A Love Story Part 18

"No, no! you do not know how strong I am; and I intend sleeping on George's shoulder all the way--and we are all in such high spirits--and these improvised excursions you yourself granted were always best--and besides, you know we must always start at this hour, if we expect to see the sunrise from the mountain. What do _you_ say, Giorgio?"

The discussion ended, by the driver taking the direction of the hotel; whence, after making arrangements as to provisions and change of dress, the party started for the mountain.

The warm cheek of Acme was reposing on that of her husband; and the wanton night air was disporting with her wavy tresses, as the loud halloo of the driver, warned them that they were in Portici, and in the act of arousing Salvador, the guide to the mountain. After some short delay, they procured mules. Each brother armed himself with a long staff, and leaving the carriage, they wended their way towards the Hermitage.

It was a clear night. The moon was majestically gliding on her path, va.s.salled by myriads of stars.

There was something in the hour--and the scene--and the novelty of the excursion--that enjoined silence.

Arrived at the Hermitage, the party dismounted. Acme clung to the strap, fastened round their guide, and they commenced the ascent. In a short time, they had manifest proofs of their vicinity to the volcano. The ashy lava gave way at each footstep, and it was only by taking short and quick steps, and perseveringly toiling on, that they were enabled to make any progress.

More than once, was Acme inclined to stop, and take breath, but the guide a.s.sured them they were already late, and that they would only just be in time for the sunrise.

As the last of the party reached the summit, the sun became perceptible--and rose in glory indescribable. The scene afar how gorgeous!

around them how grand!

Panting from their exertions, they sat on a cloak of Salvador's, and gazed with astonishment at the novelties bursting on the eye.

Each succeeding moment, gusts of flame issued forth from the crater.

They looked down on the bason, above which they were. From a conical pyramid of lava, were emitted volumes of smoke, which rolled up to heaven in rounded and fantastic shapes of beauty. Below, a deep azure--above, of a clear amber hue--the clouds wreathed and ascended majestically, as if in time to the rumbling thunder--the accompaniments of nature's subterraneous throes.

Their fatigues were amply repaid. Sir Henry's curiosity was aroused, and he descended with the guide to the crater. George and Acme, delighted with the excursion, remained on the summit, partaking of Salvador's provisions.

The descent they found easy and rapid; the lava now a.s.sisting, as much as it had formerly impeded them.

At Portici, Salvador introduced them to his apartment, embellished with specimens of lava. They purchased some memorials of their visit--partook of some fruit--and, after rewarding the guide, they returned to Naples.

Another of their excursions, and it is one than which there are few more interesting, was to that city--which, like the fabulous one of the eastern tale, rears its temples, but there are none to worship; its theatres, but there are none to applaud; its marble statues, where are the eyes that should dwell on them with pride? Its mansions are many--its walls and tesselated pavements, show colours of vivid hue, and describe tales familiar from our boyhood. The priest is at his altar--the soldiers in their guard-room--the citizen in his bath. It is indeed difficult, as our step re-echoes through the silent streets, to divest ourselves of the impression, that we are wandering where the enchanter's wand has been all powerful, that he has waved it, and lo! the city sleeps for a season, until some event shall have been fulfilled.

Our party were in the Via Appia of Pompeii, when Acme turned aside, to remark one tomb more particularly. It was an extensive one, surrounded with a species of iron net work, through which might be seen ranges of red earthen vases. Acme turned to the custode, and asked if this was the burial place of some n.o.ble family.

"No! Signora! this is where the ashes of the gladiators are preserved."

From the Appian Way, they entered through the public gate; and pa.s.sing many shops, whose signs yet draw notice, if they no longer attract custom, they came to the private houses, and entered one--that called Sall.u.s.t's--for the purpose of a more minute inspection.

"Nothing appears to be more strange," said George, "on looking at these frescoed paintings, and on such mosaics as we have yet seen; than the extraordinary familiarity of their subjects.

"There are many depicted on these walls, and I do not think, Henry, _we_ are first rate cla.s.sics;--and yet it would be difficult to puzzle us, in naming the story whence these frescoes have their birth. Look at this Latona--and Leda--and the Ariadne abbandonata--and this must certainly be the blooming Hebe. Ah! and look at this little niche! This grinning little deity--the facsimile of an Indian idol--must express their idea of the Penates. Strange! is it not?"

"But are you not," rejoined Sir Henry, "somewhat disappointed in the dwelling-houses? This seems one of the most extensive, and yet, how diminutive the rooms! and how little of attraction in the whole arrangement, if we except this cla.s.sic fountain.

"This I think is a proof, that the ancient Romans must have chiefly pa.s.sed their day abroad--in the temples--the forum--or the baths--and have left as home tenants none but women, and those unadorned with the toga virilis.

"These habits may have tended to engender a manlier independence; and to impart to their designs a loftier spirit of enterprise. What say you, Acme?"

"I might perhaps answer," replied Acme, "that the happiness gained, is well worth the glory lost. But I must not fail to remind you, that--grand as this nation must have been--my poor fallen one was its precursor--its tutor--and its model."

Hence they wandered to the theatre--the forum--the pantheon--and amphitheatre:--which last, from their converse in the earlier part of the day--fancy failed not to fill with daring combatants. As the guide pointed out the dens for the wild beasts--the pa.s.sages through which they came--and the arena for the combat--Sir Henry, like most British travellers, recalled the inimitable story of Thraso, and his lion fight.

[Footnote: In Valerius.]

The following day was devoted to the Studio, and to the inspection of the relics of Pompeii.

These relics, interesting as they are, yet convey a melancholy lesson to the contemplative mind. Each modern vanity here has its parallel--each luxury its archetype. Here may be found the cameoed ring--and the signet seal--and the bodkin--and paint for the frail one's cheek--a cuira.s.s, that a life guardsman might envy--weights--whose elegance of shape charm the eye. Not an article of modern convenience or of domestic comfort, that has not its representative. They teach us the trite French lesson.

"L'histoire se repete."

With the exception of these two excursions, and one to Poestum; our travellers pa.s.sed their mornings sight-seeing in Naples, and chiefly at the Studio, whose grand attraction is the thrilling group of the Taureau Farnese.

In the cool of the evening, until twilight's hour was past, they drove into the country, or promenaded in the gardens of the Villa Reale, to the sound of the military band.

Each night they turned their footsteps towards the Mole; where they embarked on the unruffled bay. To a young and loving heart--the heart of a bride--no pleasure can equal that, of being next the one loved best on earth--at night's still witching hour. The peculiar scenery of Naples, yet more enhances such pleasure.

Elsewhere night may boast its azure vault and its silver stars. Cynthia may ride the heavens in majesty--the water may be serene--and the heart attuned to the night's beauty:--but from the _land_, if discernible--we can rarely expect much addition to the charms of the scene, and can never expect it to form its chief attraction. At Naples it is otherwise.

Our eyes turn to the Volcano, whose flame, crowning the mountain's summit, crimsons the sky.

We watch with undiminished interest, its fitful action--now bursting out brilliantly--now fading, as if about to be extinguished for ever. Seated beside George, and thus gazing, what pleasure was Acme's! We need not say time flew swiftly. Never did happiness meet with more ardent votary than in that young bride--or find a more ready mirror, on which to reflect her beaming attributes--than on the features of that bride's husband.

Their swimming eyes would fill with tears--and their voices sink to the lowest whisper.

Sir Henry rarely interrupted their converse; but leant his head on the boat's side, and thoughtfully gazed on the placid waters, till he almost deemed he saw reflected on its surface, the face of one, in whose society _he_ felt he too might be blest.

But these fancies would not endure long. Delme would quickly arouse himself; and, warned by the lateness of the hour, and feeling the necessity that existed, for his thinking for the all-engrossed pair, would order the rowers to direct the boat's course homewards.

Returned to their hotel, it may be that orisons more heavenward, have issued from hearts more pure.

Few prayers more full of grat.i.tude, have been whispered by earthly lips, than were breathed by George and his young wife in the solitude of their chamber.

How often is such uncommon happiness as this the precursor of evil!

Chapter II.

The Doctor.

"Son port, son air de suffisance, Marquent dans son savoir sa n.o.ble confiance.

Dans les doctes debats ferme et rempli de coeur, Meme apres sa defaite il tient tete an vainqueur.

Voyez, pour gagner temps, quelles lenteurs savantes, Prolongent de ses mots les syllabes trainantes!

Tout le monde l'admire, et ne peut concevoir Que dans un cerveau seul loge tant de savoir."

It was soon after the excursion to Poestum, that a packet of letters reached the travellers from Malta. These letters had been forwarded from England, on the intelligence reaching Emily, of George's intended marriage. They had been redirected to Naples, by Colonel Vavasour, and were accompanied by a few lines from himself.

In Sir Henry's communication with his sister, he had prudently thrown a veil, over the distressing part of George's story, and had dwelt warmly, on the beauty and sweetness of temper of Acme Frascati. He could hardly hope that the proposed marriage, would meet with the entire approval of those, to whom he addressed himself.