OLFE^BEF^G 
 
 William ©laeK
 
 L I B RAHY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 U N IVE.R.SITY 
 
 OF ILLI NOIS 
 
 v.l
 
 WOLFENBERG 
 
 • ."
 
 Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/wolfenbergnovel01blac
 
 WOLFENBERG 
 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM BLACK 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. L 
 
 LONDON: 
 SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON & COMPANY 
 
 LIMITED, 
 
 Fetter Lane, Fleet Street, E.C. 
 1892. 
 
 [All rights reserved ]
 
 LONDON : 
 
 FEINTED BT WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, 
 
 STAMFORD STttEET AND CHARING CROSS.
 
 < 
 « 
 
 v.l 
 
 [' Of Poseidon, the mighty God, I begin my Jay, Poseidon 
 who shakes the earth and the sea unharvested, God of 
 the deep, who possesses Helicon and wide Aegae. A 
 double honour have the Gods given thee, oh Earthshaker, 
 to be at once the tamer of steeds and the saviour of ships. 
 Then hail, Poseidon, the girdler of the world, the dark- 
 haired' deity ; and do thou, oh Blessed one, keep a 
 kindly heart, and succour seafaring men.' — A.L.] 
 
 I 1 
 
 4
 
 CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. Fortuitous Atoms ... ... ... 1 
 
 II. Two Discoveries ... ... 27 
 
 III. A Deviation ... ... ... 51 
 
 IV. An Introduction ... ... 77 
 
 V. A Horoscope ... ... ... 103 
 
 VI. " Vix e Conspectu Sicul^e Telluris" 131 
 
 VII. The Ear of Dionysius ... ... 158 
 
 VIII. " To Athens shall the Lovers wend " 187 
 
 IX. Facing Contingencies ... ... 216
 
 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 CHAPTEK L 
 
 FORTUITOUS ATOMS. 
 
 What is the space, then, that lies between 
 comedy and tragedy ? In this instance, it 
 was merely the breadth of a table in the 
 saloon of the Orient s.s. Orotania. For here 
 were we, the most careless and irresponsible 
 set of creatures that ever were shaken into 
 seats by the dice-box of Fate (the Purser) ; 
 
 and there were they But let us begin 
 
 at the beginning. 
 
 We first noticed them as they were crossing 
 the pier at Tilbury, on their way to the tender. 
 There was an elderly lady, sallow of face, 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 '/
 
 2 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 with silver-white hair beautifully braided. 
 There was her daughter, a young woman of 
 about five-and-twenty, of a pale and clear 
 complexion, with dark and lustrous eyes, 
 highly-arched black eyebrows, and magnifi- 
 cently-massed black hair. Then there was 
 a man apparently about forty-five, of middle 
 height or something thereunder, with a long 
 brown moustache, a clipped brown beard, and 
 a firm and decided mouth that seemed some- 
 how out of keeping with his large, grey, 
 dreamy eyes. Indeed, he wore something of 
 an absent look ; it was his two companions 
 who were most alert and interested, especially 
 the younger lady, who was talking and 
 laughing with a gay vivacity. 
 
 " Peggy," observed a certain small creature 
 who keeps her own and certain other house- 
 holds in meek subjection — though now she 
 spoke with bated breath — " those two are 
 countrywomen of yours." 
 
 " I think you forget which is my country,"
 
 FORTUITOUS ATOMS. 3 
 
 replied Lady Cameron of Inverfask, a little 
 proudly. "But they are Americans, if that 
 is what you mean." 
 
 The next moment — the new arrivals were 
 now coming along the gangway — a startling- 
 thing occurred. The man's face appeared to 
 undergo a gradual and yet swift transforma- 
 tion. Or was it not rather that this definite 
 and actual, this living and breathing, physi- 
 ognomy summoned up all sorts of ghosts — 
 outlined portraits in the illustrated papers — 
 perhaps, even, some likeness in oil in this 
 or that exhibition ? One had certainly seen 
 those features before — in books, or magazines, 
 or weekly journals. Then a hasty and furtive 
 appeal to the printed list of passengers, and 
 the mystery was solved at once : this was 
 no other than Wolfenberg, the great American 
 artist — the most imaginative painter that 
 America has yet produced — the painter of 
 dreams and visions, of phantasms and 
 mysteries — the painter of " The Return of
 
 4 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 Undine/' of "Two Lovers in a Valley. in the 
 Moon," of "The Goddess Athene Entering 
 the Chamber of Nausicaa." Our souls rejoiced 
 over the discovery ; it was something even 
 to be sailing in the same vessel with this 
 master of the magic wand, this compeller 
 of clouds and tempests, this traveller who 
 had been through the spirit-worlds, whose 
 eyes had beheld strange things. 
 
 And when our good fortune (or the Purser) 
 so arranged affairs that we found ourselves 
 seated opposite these three in the saloon of 
 the great steamer, an acquaintanceship was 
 struck up at once ; that is easily managed 
 on board ship ; the passing of a salt-cellar 
 will suffice. Of course it was the young 
 lady who at the outset demanded most 
 attention, and seemed to expect it, and got 
 it. For one thing, there was no unnecessary 
 shyness about her ; she was eagerly interested 
 in everything around her ; she chatted freely, 
 smiling and showing pretty teeth, sometimes
 
 FORTUITOUS ATOMS. 5 
 
 laughing merrily with her lustrous black eyes. 
 Moreover, she was pleasant to look at. If 
 she was not strictly beautiful, there was at 
 least something curiously seductive in her 
 appearance — something striking, too, in the 
 contrast between the magnificent black hair 
 and the pale skin and red lips. Perhaps that 
 unusually bright crimson owed a little to 
 artifice, or was it merely accentuated by the 
 prevailing pallor of her complexion ? At all 
 events, her pallor was not the pallor of an 
 invalid. There was not much of the invalid 
 about Amelie Dumaresq, as we subsequently 
 discovered her name to be. To us, who were 
 no further away from her than the breadth 
 of the table, she seemed literally to thrill to 
 the finger-tips with life, and with the delight 
 of life. It would have been an almost aggres- 
 sive vitality had it not been modified by the 
 young lady's evident and placid expectation 
 that she should be listened to, and petted, 
 and made much of. And how patiently her
 
 6 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 two companions bore with her wilfulness, 
 and her blunt, frank speeches, and her 
 petulant paradoxes. Sometimes, it is true, 
 a cloud came over Wolfenberg's thoughtful 
 and rather tired-looking face : it was as if 
 he would have said, 'Amelie, have a little 
 moderation, before strangers.' But ever and 
 always he skilfully interposed, apologising for 
 her, defending her, explaining that, after all, 
 there was something in what she maintained. 
 His devotion to her, his gentle government 
 of her, his pride in her even when she was 
 most audacious, were all beautiful to witness. 
 So that we congratulated ourselves on this 
 our setting out. There was one table, at 
 least, in the big saloon that promised to be 
 anything but dull. 
 
 We lost sight of them after luncheon, for 
 each and all of us went our several ways to 
 arrange cabins, and open trunks, and make 
 preparations for the long seven weeks' voyage. 
 When we saw them again on deck, the day
 
 FORTUITOUS ATOMS. 7 
 
 was dying out in crimson flame, with Dover 
 Castle looming large and high and dark 
 against the west ; while along the south-eastern 
 horizon lay one massive cloud, vast, portentous, 
 suffused with a sultry light, and dwarfing into 
 insignificance the pale golden- white line of 
 the French coast immediately underneath it. 
 Then by and by the tinkle of the steward's 
 bell was heard all over the ship ; and presently 
 we were once more seated opposite our 
 newly-found acquaintances — down here in 
 the saloon, that was now all bravely aglow 
 with the electric lamps. 
 
 She took away the breath from us in about 
 the very first second. 
 
 " I have got one detestable duty done with 
 this afternoon," said she, addressing herself 
 mostly to the two ladies opposite her. " I 
 thought, as we were going to Greece, I ought 
 to read the Iliad ; and I've been struggling 
 with it for days ; and, thank goodness, I've 
 finished it at last ! "
 
 8 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 " Yes ? " said our Mrs. Threepenny-bit, with 
 kind inquiry. 
 
 "You want to know what I think of it?" 
 said this young person, the contour of whose 
 satin-soft cheek and the liquid splendour of 
 whose dark eyes would not have led one to 
 anticipate the ruthless iconoclasm of her mind. 
 "I think it is absolute trash. I always sus- 
 pected that Homer was rubbish, and now I 
 know it. And I'll tell you how I suspected 
 it : it was because whenever you found any 
 one writing about Homer and his knowledge 
 of human nature, the one thing that was 
 always dragged in was the parting of Hector 
 and Andromache ; and I formed a kind of 
 notion that it was the only bit of human 
 nature in the whole book — the only sample 
 they could show. The Iliad ? — it seems to me 
 nothing but the doings and sayings of a lot 
 of great, brawling, boasting prizefighters. The 
 only human beings in it are the immortals — 
 and they are a parcel of big babies."
 
 FORTUITOUS ATOMS. 9 
 
 And so she went on ; but one of us seemed 
 to hear no more — seemed rather to be recalling 
 a picture that appeared in the Salon some ten 
 or a dozen years ago. The title of it was, 
 1 Achilles invoking the aid of Thetis ; ' the 
 subject was the grief- laden hero down by the 
 seashore, stretching out his hands, and im- 
 ploring his goddess-mother beneath the waves 
 to hear him. This is the passage, according 
 to a recent version : e So spake he weeping, 
 and his lady mother heard him as she sate 
 in the sea-depths beside her aged sire. With 
 speed arose she from the grey sea, like a mist, 
 and sate her before the face of her weeping 
 son, and stroked him with her hand, and 
 spake and called on his name/ Now that 
 picture was signed ' Ernest Wolfenberg ; ' and 
 all the artistic circles of Europe were talking 
 of the young American painter who had so 
 boldly carried modern methods, and the dreams 
 of his own high-strung imagination, into the 
 region of classic myth. And did this girl —
 
 io WOLFENBERG. 
 
 whom he seemed absolutely to worship — did 
 she alone forget ? Or did she consider (which 
 is a more charitable view) that his position as 
 a painter was so assured, and his choice of 
 subject so unerring and indisputable, that 
 anything she might say about either Art or 
 Literature was not of much consequence, so 
 far as their personal relations were concerned ? 
 None the less did he now come to her aid ; 
 tried to show that there was something to be 
 said for her opinion ; and urged the unavoid- 
 able poverty of translations. It was pathetic 
 in its way. One wondered if it were possible 
 that she had never even heard of ' Achilles 
 invoking the aid of Thetis.' 
 
 That night we went placidly down Channel, 
 trying at times to identify the distant streaks 
 of dull yellow fire with one or other of the 
 Sussex watering-places. It was a moonlight 
 night, calm and still ; a broad band of silver 
 quivered on the smoothly-undulating sea ; the 
 throbbing of the engines became a pleasant,
 
 FORTUITOUS ATOMS, n 
 
 monotonous, drowsy murmur in the silence. 
 At intervals, it is true, we had music on 
 deck ; but some of us may have preferred the 
 spaces of quiet ; at all events, Peggy — that is 
 to say, Lady Cameron of Inverfask^and her 
 two friends had sought out for themselves a 
 secluded corner aft of the wheel-box ; and 
 there whosoever chose could discourse of their 
 shipmates freely. It was of the painter 
 Wolfenberg and of Amelie Dumaresq that 
 one had now to hear. 
 
 "Why," said Peggy, after some random 
 observations, " she cannot be more than four 
 or five-and-twenty ; and he is getting quite 
 grey ! " 
 
 "These," responded Mrs. Threepenny-bit, 
 with decision, "are the matches that turn out 
 best — if it is lasting kindness and care that 
 the girl wants." 
 
 " She does not seem as devoted to him as 
 he is devoted to her," Peggy went on, in the 
 absent way that is induced when one has a
 
 12 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 great waste of moonlit water to rest one's eyes 
 on. "But of course she could not show it, 
 especially before strangers. She calls him 
 Ernest, however, and he calls her Amelie, so 
 that it is no ordinary friendship. I wonder, 
 now, if she will marry him for his reputation, 
 his position ? Mind you, she has a pretty fair 
 notion of her own importance ; don't you 
 think so ? She has her own individuality. 
 I doubt whether she would easily take a 
 subordinate place. . . . What exquisite hands 
 she has ! " 
 
 "And she is aware of it," answered the 
 other, calmly. 
 
 "And a very pretty smile — very winning, 
 I think. And a merry laugh, too. Why, she 
 laughs with the laugh of a child ! " 
 
 " And yet she is an absolute virago in her 
 opinions ! " exclaimed the smaller woman, with 
 a touch of amazement. " She is a regular 
 down- with -e very thingist, wherever tradition, 
 or custom, or conventionality is concerned."
 
 FORTUITOUS ATOMS. 13 
 
 "At all events," Peggy put in, "she 
 respects convention quite sufficiently in her 
 costume. Both she and her mother are 
 perfectly dressed." 
 
 " Peggy, my dear child, anarchical women 
 are never anarchical in their dress — unless 
 through lack of means. And Miss Dumaresq 
 and her mother have just come over from 
 Paris. Didn't you hear ? She has been 
 studying in the Atelier Didron, so Mr. 
 Wolfenberg says." 
 
 " The girl, you mean ? " 
 
 " Yes ; and she has brought a lot of un- 
 finished work with her. Perhaps, when we 
 become better friends, she may let us have 
 a peep. I confess I am curious — for more 
 than one reason." 
 
 And so they talked, and further talked, and 
 speculated, over a subject that seemed to have 
 some mysterious attraction for them ; until it 
 was time for us to say good-night and go 
 away to our respective cabins, with one final
 
 i 4 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 glance round at the magic world of dark 
 blue-grey and silver-shimmering sea. 
 
 Next morning we had a look in at Plymouth ; 
 and, just before starting again, Peggy happened 
 to be leaning idly with her arms on the rail, 
 gazing across the green waters of the harbour 
 towards the fair-shining town and its heights 
 and fortifications, when our miniature Admiral - 
 in-Chief cameup, her air and manner betokening 
 serious matters. 
 
 " Peggy," said she, " in a few minutes we 
 shall be off for Morocco." 
 
 " I hope we shan't be bound there," says 
 the young lady, under her breath, to her other 
 companion. 
 
 " You are bound there," is the natural reply. 
 
 "What are you two whispering about? 
 But I wish to say something to you, and 
 you must pay attention, you American girl," 
 that small mite goes on, undaunted. " I wish 
 to say this. We are now leaving England on 
 a long voyage. You must not pretend to
 
 FORTUITOUS ATOMS. 15 
 
 forget that your husband distinctly placed 
 you under my charge when he went to India, 
 and gave me authority over you. And it is 
 my duty to see that you behave yourself, and 
 show yourself worthy of the name you bear 
 and of the country you have adopted. And, 
 mind you, I know what a grass-widow is. I 
 know why she is called a grass-widow : it is 
 because she is a creature that goes about 
 gobbling up all green things — especially young 
 men. Now, there is to be nothing of the kind 
 on this ship. I will not have it. I am re- 
 sponsible for you. And look at the risk I run. 
 Listen to this notice." She opened a paper 
 she held in her hand, and proceeded : " ' Any 
 passenger who may take on board any article 
 of explosive, inflammable, dangerous, or 
 damaging nature, is liable to prosecution 
 and to the penalties imposed by Statute, 
 and also for all damages resulting from the 
 shipment of such articles.' Clearly that clause 
 refers to you ; and yet here are we rendering
 
 16 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 ourselves liable unless you will pledge yourself 
 to good behaviour." 
 
 "Aren't you going to say something for 
 me ? " murmurs Peggy, aside. " I always 
 stick up for you when I get a chance." 
 
 To which this is the answer : — 
 
 " I have already and frequently pointed out 
 to you that there are only two absolutely 
 perfect human beings in the world. Now, 
 perfection provokes envy. And envy is the 
 mother of suspicion and malice. But when 
 these two beings, mutually rejoicing in the 
 consciousness of their exalted innocence, and 
 strong in the bonds of an understanding and 
 a sympathy that time, and fate, and traitorous 
 tongues seem unable to destroy " 
 
 " And particularly in this case," says Peggy, 
 with a deeply-injured air, "when my sister 
 Emily is going to join us at Palermo ! Oh, 
 much fun I shall have after Emily has come 
 on board ! You have never seen my sister ; 
 you don't know. I tell you we shall all have
 
 FORTUITOUS ATOMS. 17 
 
 to live up to very solemn and lofty ideals 
 when she comes along. You needn't be afraid, 
 Missis. There won't be any skylarking, either 
 with young men or old. Why, I used to be 
 mortally afraid of her when she came home 
 from school. I knew I was a frivolous person ; 
 but I did what I could to earn her approval 
 — at least, by concealing things — a little 
 hypocrisy — oh, Emily believes in me " 
 
 "Very well, then," says Mrs. Threepenny- 
 bit, apparently only half convinced by these 
 protestations. " We shall see. I will keep 
 an eye on you, my super-innocent young 
 friend. I've seen grass-widows before, and 
 their ways, especially on moonlight nights in 
 the Mediterranean " 
 
 But here the Microscopic Calumniator had 
 to cease, for the men were about to haul up 
 the accommodation-ladder, and she found it 
 necessary to move further aft. 
 
 This was a Sunday ; so that our amusements 
 
 and occupations were of a subdued and sober 
 vol. 1. c
 
 18 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 character. It was not until the following day, 
 when we were well into the Bay of Biscay, 
 that we all of us seemed to settle down into 
 the ordinary swing of life on board ship. 
 And it must be said that the dreaded Bay 
 treated our apprehensive women-folk in the 
 civillest fashion. All day long there were only 
 these familiar features : a cloudless sky, a 
 horizon of milky white, a circle of lapping, 
 dark-blue water, with a blinding, bewildering 
 shiver of diamonds towards the sun. In the 
 afternoon, amid the other games going forward, 
 cricket was proposed ; and when the netting 
 had been fixed up all round, and sides chosen, 
 there speedily came together a little crowd of 
 fair spectators, who, perched high on one of 
 the after skylights, and forming a gallery, as 
 it were, could award applause or laughter as 
 the case demanded. You may be sure that 
 Peggy was in that group, a conspicuous figure. 
 And one marked and beautiful thing was this : 
 under the widespread awning she was of course
 
 FORTUITOUS ATOMS. 19 
 
 in shadow, so that all the light that shone 
 on her features was reflected upward from the 
 flashing and glancing sea, and that made a 
 sort of glory of her face. When one looked 
 at her — at the braided golden-brown hair, the 
 wholesome, countrified complexion, the shining 
 eyes, the smiling mouth, the bland and yet 
 quick interest of her expression — what did 
 one care about this mad game except to see 
 whether she laughed or clapped her hands in 
 approval ? These poor flannelled wretches 
 toiling in the hot afternoon sun — with their 
 < Played, sir!' < Well caught!' < How's that?' 
 — they were doing their best, no doubt ; and 
 the scrimmage had its varying fortunes ; but 
 here, overlooking all, was this radiant creature, 
 complaisant, serene, beatific, the Queen of 
 the Tournament. And already she seemed 
 to have made friends with everybody round 
 about her. 
 
 After dinner that night an impromptu dance 
 was got up, when the deck-chairs had been
 
 20 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 cleared away. It was sorneliow a strange 
 kind of spectacle ; and yet picturesque in its 
 bizarre fashion : the dull glow of the lamps 
 around the red-jacketed bandsmen — the 
 electric globes further aft revealing the awning 
 overhead — the swift-revolving figures, the 
 young women in light silks and cashmeres, 
 here and there an officer in uniform — and 
 then beyond all that the great world of waves, 
 blue-black, smooth-heaving, with the broad 
 pathway of the moon trembling in vivid silver. 
 This also was curious : in an ordinary ball- 
 room, when there is a pause in the music — a 
 dotted note, for example, in a waltz — that 
 momentary space of quiet is filled with the 
 rustle of silk and muslin and slippers ; but 
 here, in these slight intervals, one caught 
 another sound — the continuous swish of the 
 water along the side of the ship. Wolfenberg 
 was standing with us, looking on in his usual 
 preoccupied, contemplative fashion. 
 
 " Isn't it very monstrous and abominable, "
 
 FORTUITOUS ATOMS. 21 
 
 said Mrs. Threepenny-bit to him, " that those 
 people should destroy such a beautiful night 
 with their scamperings ? But, after all, there 
 were wild revels in l a wood near Athens/ 
 And it is rather pretty, don't you think so ? — 
 the different lights — the figures — the sea : 
 what do you say, Mr. Wolfenberg, could, an 
 Impressionist make something out of it ? " 
 
 " Oh, there is a subject in it," he answered 
 her, " for any one audacious enough. I could 
 not manage it. But Miss Dumaresq might." 
 
 She was startled, and no wonder, to hear 
 this master of his art talk so about a girl who 
 had just been a pupil in the Atelier Didron. 
 But he proceeded — for whenever he spoke of 
 Amelie Dumaresq he seemed to rouse himself 
 from his reveries : "You must see her work. 
 You will be surprised, I think. She has the 
 courage of a man, and the strength of a man. 
 It is the truth she aims at, the truth without 
 compromise. You cannot understand her 
 until you have seen her work. You have met
 
 22 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 her only in frivolous moments — and no doubt 
 she likes to be petted." 
 
 At this moment the music ceased, and the 
 dance came to an end. 
 
 " Miss Dumaresq is in the saloon at present, 
 writing letters," said he, with a sudden in- 
 spiration. " Suppose we go down now, and I 
 will ask her to bring you some of her things ? " 
 
 Well, we were nothing loth ; for by and by 
 the music would be resumed ; and there 
 seemed something a little too incongruous 
 between the silences of the great deep all 
 around us and these strains of cornet and 
 violin and violoncello. Besides, one naturally 
 wished to see studies that had won commenda- 
 tion from so high an authority. So the four 
 of us went along and passed down the com- 
 panion-way : Miss Dumaresq we found at one 
 of the tables, while her mother was seated at 
 no great distance, reading. 
 
 " Amelie," said he, very gently, " may I 
 disturb you ? "
 
 FORTUITOUS ATOMS. 23 
 
 "I am delighted," said she ; and at once 
 she shut her writing-desk. 
 
 " Will you do me a favour ? " he asked — 
 and the soft black eyes answered him with a 
 glance of obvious pleasure. " I have been 
 talking about your work, and I want to justify 
 myself. I want you to go and bring some 
 of your drawings to show to our friends 
 here." 
 
 But at this she drew back, in affected alarm. 
 
 " Oh ! no, no, no ! " she exclaimed. " No, 
 I cannot, Ernest — some other time, perhaps — 
 in daylight." 
 
 " I mean only the black and white," he 
 pleaded. 
 
 "Oh no," said she. "No — I could not — 
 you have taken me by surprise — I am 
 frightened." 
 
 " Come, be yourself, Amelie ! " he said, with 
 a touch of reproach in his tone, for clearly her 
 dismay was in a large measure simulated. 
 
 But she would not yield. She obstinately
 
 24 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 maintained that she was terrified out of her 
 wits ; she wanted time to prepare herself for 
 such an ordeal ; perhaps next day she would 
 have mustered up courage. And of course 
 Mrs. Threepenny-bit — not minding whether 
 this excessive shyness were genuine or not — 
 took the girl's part, and declared that she 
 must be left free to choose her own time, and 
 apologized for the suggestion having been 
 made. But Amelie Dumaresqs eyes were 
 fixed on Wolfenberof. 
 
 "Ah, I see I have offended you, Ernest," 
 she said. " Oh yes, yes, I can see — you 
 need not protest. What can I do ? I 
 know/' 
 
 She went quickly to the piano, sat down, 
 and let her fingers run through a little prelude. 
 She turned and looked at him, and smiled. 
 Then she began to sing — well, it could hardly 
 be called singing, for she had next to nothing 
 of a voice ; but she had a pretty and 
 coquettish grace of expression. The air was
 
 FORTUITOUS ATOMS. 25 
 
 unknown to us ; the words, as we afterwards 
 learned, were a translation from the Spanish. 
 
 * Cupid, drop, oh drop that dart t 
 Do not aim, it at my heart ; 
 For Tm hut a little maid, 
 
 And of you Tm so afraid ! ' 
 
 Yes, it was pretty and fascinating enough, 
 if it was no great vocal triumph ; and at least 
 we could hear distinctly what she had to say. 
 So she went on — 
 
 * I've heard how your pranks of yore 
 Kept Olympus in uproar ; 
 
 And how all the goddesses 
 Yielded to your sweet decrees ; 
 Since celestials thus you sway, 
 Is it any wonder, pray, 
 That of you Tm so afraid, 
 I, a little mortal maid f 
 
 Tm too young, of that Tm sure, 
 And too simple, to endure 
 Tour enchantments and your errors, 
 Tour deceptions and your terrors, 
 Tour soft languishing desires, 
 Tour consuming passion fires. 
 Out of reach and sight of man 
 I will keep me (if I can /) 
 For Tm but a little maid, 
 And of love Tm so afraid I '
 
 26 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 She came away from the piano with a laugh. 
 "Well, Mr. Gloomy-Brows, am I for- 
 
 given ? " 
 
 "Amelie," said he, quite goodnaturedly, 
 " how long are you going to remain a child ? 
 You forget that you are a great artist."
 
 ( 2 7 ) 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 TWO DISCOVERIES. 
 
 Again has the mother of dawn, rosy-fingered 
 morning, aroused the sleeping world ; and over 
 there are the phantom hills of Spain — mere 
 films along the eastern horizon. Yet of all 
 the passengers on board this big steamer only 
 two have so far appeared on deck ; and these 
 have perched themselves high on the wheel- 
 box, to be out of the way of the hose. One 
 of these is a tall American young lady ; and 
 her eyes, which at all times are eloquent and 
 expressive enough, are at this moment full of 
 an eager interest. 
 
 "I am so glad of the chance," she says, 
 "for I have a tremendous secret to tell you. 
 Oh, you would never guess — not if you were 
 to work at it for a month. Do you know who
 
 28 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 is on board this ship ? Why, the great, the 
 immortal ' Sappho ! ' " 
 
 " Oh, stuff and nonsense ! " 
 
 " I tell you she is," Peggy insists. " She 
 herself revealed to me the awful mystery last 
 night. After you left I went back to the 
 saloon, to get a book ; and she came up and 
 introduced herself — she's only Miss Penguin 
 in the list of passengers, you know ; but we 
 sat down and had a nice long talk, and then 
 she told me. Believe it or not as you like, 
 1 Sappho ' is on board this steamer." 
 
 It was a startling announcement — nay, it 
 was almost incredible. Talk of the responsi- 
 bility of the ship that bore Virgil away to 
 Athens ! Here were we carrying with us the 
 perfervid poetess, the JEolia ypuella, the 
 modern and much-wailing Sappho, with her 
 distractions and agonies and cries. But in the 
 midst of one's astonishment Peggy begins to 
 giggle. 
 
 " I think she is horribly disappointed that
 
 TWO DISCOVERIES. 29 
 
 no one on board has found out who she is. 
 But how could we ? I never saw a single 
 photograph of her in any shop. And she says 
 her incognito is necessary because her sym- 
 pathies with the Armenians are well known, 
 and she is afraid the Turkish authorities might 
 make trouble " 
 
 " But which is she ? — which one of them 
 is it ? " 
 
 " Why, you must have noticed her — the lady 
 who goes about leading a dog." 
 
 " What ! — the dowdily-dressed woman who 
 spends the whole of the day nursing that 
 hideous little beast ? " 
 
 " Oh, for shame ! Why, that is Phaon. 
 And isn't it too cruel, too ignominious, that 
 Phaon has to be handed over every night to 
 the charge of the butcher ? Nobody but that 
 unfeeling, hard-hearted Purser could have made 
 such a stipulation." 
 
 At this point Peggy suddenly alters her 
 tone, and becomes very confidential.
 
 3o WOLFENBERG. 
 
 " I say, do you think I might show you a 
 little poem ? It was entrusted to me last 
 night, in great secrecy ; but I rather think she 
 would like it to be discreetly shown about. 
 You see, it is her idea of the kind of thing 
 that poetry should aim at. The poets of the 
 present day, she says, have no passion " 
 
 " What does an elderly spinster know about 
 passion ? " 
 
 " I'm not good at conundrums ; I merely 
 tell you what she says. And here are the 
 verses — I'll chance it ; read them and give 
 them back to me before any one comes up." 
 
 There was no difficulty about reading them ; 
 the handwriting was punctiliously neat. 
 
 He plucked the last long golden hair 
 
 From off his velvet coat : 
 1 Adieu, my Ever-fairest Fair ! ' 
 
 My lean hands seized his throat ! 
 
 He groaned and gurgled to the ground, 
 
 His white lips moaned c Farewell! ' 
 High Heaven heard the awful sound — 
 
 A shudder ran through Hell I
 
 TWO DISCOVERIES. 31 
 
 The whinnering whirlwind flared and fleered ; 
 
 The oak trees coiled and curled ; 
 The gasping earth-fires glimmered weird ; 
 
 Blue lightnings shook the world. 
 
 Sis arms were round me in a mist ; 
 
 A simoom ivas his breath : 
 A crimson stain — ah, God, I kissed 
 
 The Panther-Kiss of Death ! 
 
 " Well ? " says Peggy. 
 
 " Why, it is just splendid ! " 
 
 "Oh, that doesn't mean anything," she 
 retorts, with impatience. " Invent a good lie 
 for me — do ! I must say something to her." 
 
 " Tell her that it is simply impossible for 
 you to express your admiration." 
 
 "Hm — yes — that might answer," says 
 Peggy, doubtfully — but at this juncture our 
 morning conference is broken in upon, for 
 there appears on the scene a certain Mrs. 
 Spiteful, whose small jibes and sarcasms and 
 enigmatic references to Magna Charta Island 
 it is unnecessary to set down here. 
 
 A shining blue day followed — a day without
 
 32 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 incident. Next morning found us opposite 
 the cliffs of Cape Koca, with the ghostly hills 
 of Cintra rising pale and cloud-like beyond 
 that silver blaze of sea. And again a perfect 
 day; indeed, we seemed to have got all the 
 winds of iEolus tied up and packed securely 
 away in the Purser's office. But all this time 
 we were getting to know more and more about 
 our companions, and also on occasion making 
 one or two new acquaintances. Amongst the 
 latter was a delightful old gentleman, 
 generally spoken of as 'the Major' — a short, 
 plump, roseate, cheerful, smartly-dressed per- 
 son of sixty-five or so, who, from an early 
 part of the voyage, had clearly marked out 
 our Peggy for his own. But the Major had 
 one unfortunate failing. Ordinarily the very 
 soul of good nature, he nevertheless was easily 
 put out, just for a moment, by small trifles ; 
 and on these occasions, and no matter who 
 his companion might be, he was in the habit 
 of using very strong language, which he
 
 TWO DISCOVERIES. 33 
 
 fondly imagined he uttered under his breath. 
 Now, the Major detested Phaon, and for some 
 reason or another detested Phaon's mistress 
 as well ; and whenever the Passionate 
 Spinster approached Peggy, while the latter 
 and the testy old warrior were talking 
 together, he would mutter the most frightful 
 anathemas, and forthwith betake himself to 
 some other part of the ship. Indeed, Peggy 
 was forced to complain. 
 
 " You really must speak to the Major," said 
 she. " I never heard such profanity. Tell 
 him he may think it, but he mustn't say it. 
 And it's all about nothing. What has poor 
 Phaon ever done to him ? Sometimes Phaon 
 gets his leading-string round your ankles, and 
 trips you up ; but it isn't intentional. You 
 must tell the Major he is mistaken in 
 supposing that people cannot overhear him. 
 Words like 'nurse' and 'jam' are perfectly 
 innocent, of course ; but I object to the words 
 that rhyme to them. And what harm has 
 
 vol. 1. D
 
 34 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 Sappho done to him % She never showed 
 him any poetry. Once, indeed, she was 
 repeating to us some verses from ' The Isles 
 of Greece,' and when she came to ' Place me 
 on Sunium's marbled steep,' he said, quite 
 aloud, ' I wish to heavens I could — and leave 
 you there ! ' So that if anybody has the right 
 to be offended it is she — if she heard him — 
 and not he." 
 
 But we did not feel called upon to remon- 
 strate with the Major. Human beings have 
 their ways ; and we were well content to take 
 him as he was. 
 
 It was on this afternoon that Ernest 
 "Wolfenberg came to us and said if we would 
 walk along to the fore saloon we should have 
 an opportunity of looking at some of Miss 
 Dumaresq's work. It was an ordeal that at 
 least one of us would rather not have faced. 
 For this was not a question of a vain and 
 half-cracked creature submitting her spas- 
 modic verses for private scrutiny. Here was
 
 TWO DISCOVERIES. 35 
 
 a man, himself a great artist, who believed 
 in the woman who was his constant companion 
 and friend ; he seemed to think far more of 
 her fame and future position than of anything 
 pertaining to himself; and there had even 
 been some serious discussion about the best 
 method of placing a number of her water- 
 colour drawings before the British public, 
 Well, as it turned out, there was no call for 
 any alarm. The very first glimpse we had 
 of the contents of the great portfolio showed 
 that here was virile stuff. Blunt it might be, 
 and uncompromising, even brutal, in its direct- 
 ness ; but about its strength, its vividness, its 
 originality there could be no doubt whatever. 
 And Amelie Dumaresq was no longer the 
 petted child ; she had thrown aside that 
 affectation ; she stood before these things 
 silent, not breathlessly concerned about any 
 judgment, nor professing to be so. And 
 we, ignorant as we were, surely we knew 
 that work of this kind, however incomplete
 
 36 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 and immature it might be in certain ways, 
 had not been produced without pain and 
 struggle and searching of heart ? There was 
 no fear of any critic or any school of critics 
 visible here. She had seen certain things 
 with the vision of an artist ; she had aimed 
 at them by such methods as were known to 
 her ; and even where a false note seemed to 
 have been struck, that doubtless was also 
 intentional. For example, there was one 
 drawing that represented a number of fashion- 
 able people promenading on a lawn — some 
 sea-side Sunday-morning ceremony most likely : 
 the women in summer costumes, white, pink, 
 mauve, jet-black — sunshades cream-coloured, 
 crimson, pure scarlet — everything clear, literal, 
 and distinct ; but not only that ; where she 
 had come to a gown of false green against the 
 true green of the grass, there it was likewise. 
 French, no doubt, all this was ; but it had 
 precision and individuality ; and it was an 
 individuality without impertinence.
 
 TWO DISCOVERIES. 37 
 
 "No, it was not she, it was he, who seemed 
 a trifle nervous and anxious ; and when she 
 had gone away with the big portfolio, and 
 when he returned with us to the after-part 
 of the deck, his eager talk was still about her 
 and her pictures, defending, explaining, be- 
 lauding, and all the while assuming, or 
 appearing to assume (this was the most 
 curious part of it) that he, the master, the 
 assured and accomplished artist, and she, the 
 audacious amateur, were on one and the same 
 plane. 
 
 " What, now, do you think your Academi- 
 cians would say ? " he went on. " Are there 
 very bigoted cliques among them ? Would 
 they denounce her for realism ? And yet it 
 seems to me that whoever sees nothing but 
 realism in Miss Dumaresq's work sees nothing. 
 There is Art — Art speaking in one of its many 
 tongues, and perhaps not easily to be under- 
 stood by the multitude. You are not likely 
 to find one gifted with her perceptions aiming
 
 38 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 at mere fidelity, or carried away by any bald 
 theory about truth. She understands as well 
 as any one that Art is conventional, and must 
 be conventional. 'Art is Art because it is 
 not Nature.' Whoever talked as Shakespeare's 
 characters talk ? What girl ever spoke of 
 cutting her lover into little stars so as to make 
 the heavens shine ? These men and women 
 in Shakespeare's plays speak as no men or 
 women ever spoke ; and yet they are more 
 human than any men or women whom we 
 know or are ever likely to know. It is simply 
 Art talking in one of its conventional lan- 
 guages ; you value it because of what it brings. 
 Look at our dialect stories, as they are called," 
 he continued, leaning back in his deck-chair 
 with his hands behind his head. " No doubt 
 certain peculiarities of diction are faithfully 
 reproduced. But what is the value of that ? 
 If the human nature it reveals is poor and 
 mean and contemptible, what is gained by 
 this affectation of truth ? For 'it is not the
 
 TWO DISCOVERIES. 39 
 
 truth. If you were to report a man's con- 
 versation as he speaks it, you would have a 
 story a life-time long. It is the business of 
 Art to select and condense, to pick out the 
 salient points of character, and speech, and 
 circumstance ; and I don't care how con- 
 ventional the language may be so long as the 
 human beings live and interest me. Accuracy 
 is the aim of pedants and fools. When I see 
 Rosalind come down the stage, resplendent 
 in her white satin and lace veil, I don't stop 
 to ask where she got her weddiug-dress in the 
 middle of the Forest of Arden. And so I 
 hope you have not formed any prejudice 
 against Miss Dumaresq's work because at first 
 sight it appears a literal transcript. I think 
 the more you study it you will perceive that 
 it is more than that — that it is true Art — Art 
 making use of a series of symbols — aiming at 
 just and necessary compromise — and also 
 
 expressing the individuality of the artist " 
 
 Well, it was not for us to protest or assent ;
 
 40 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 it was for him to lay down the law, and 
 welcome. But there was something almost 
 pathetic in the whole situation. It was as 
 clear as daylight that he had thought out all 
 these things to form a defence of Amelie 
 Dumaresq, in case any one should object to 
 the "realism'' of her work. We had made 
 no such objection ; nay, in the case of out- 
 siders like ourselves, what was demanded of 
 us, and freely accorded, was appreciation, 
 not criticism ; but all the same he appeared 
 anxious to guard against what might be the 
 conclusions of unspoken prejudice. It was 
 a strange kind of undertaking for one in his 
 position. For we could not but remember 
 what his own work was. And although 
 scarlet sunshades against a green lawn might 
 command one's admiration for the moment, 
 there was something other and finer than that 
 dwelling in our memory — there w T as the 
 mystic figure of the goddess, clad in vaporous 
 veils of rain, dim, awful, and yet benignant
 
 TWO DISCOVERIES. 41 
 
 as a pitying mother come up from the green 
 deeps to comfort her son weeping apart from 
 his comrades by the shores of the grey sea. 
 And we wondered whether Amelie Dumaresq 
 quite knew what manner of man this was who 
 thus stooped from his high estate to plead for 
 her and defend her, even to the belittling of 
 his own achievements. 
 
 But in the midst of this talk, which was 
 sufficiently interesting to us for several reasons, 
 there was a sudden and fierce ringing of the 
 bell — the fire-alarm ! In an instant the whole 
 ship was in commotion. Fore and aft there 
 was swift but ordered movement ; certain 
 hands sprang to the davits to stand by the 
 boats — others came hurrying along with 
 bundles of blankets — others ran to the 
 hydrants. In an incredibly short space of time 
 every man was at his post ; then there was a 
 pause of inspection ; and then, this rapid and 
 unforeseen piece of drill being over, the men 
 gradually returned to their ordinary duties.
 
 42 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 It was altogether admirably done ; and we 
 saw no reason to doubt that in actual case of 
 fire this complicated manoeuvre would be gone 
 through with equal promptitude and accuracy. 
 That evening found us off Cape St. Vincent. 
 There was a certain solemnity of appearance 
 about those high and solitary cliffs that were 
 sombrely lit up by the after-glow streaming 
 over from the west ; and then from time to 
 time the tall lighthouse would send forth its 
 silent signal — a shaft of golden flame coming 
 out of the mystic grey of the eastern sky. 
 But at dinner there was not much solemnity. 
 For Amelie Dumaresq had ceased to be the 
 artist who stood serene, and simple, and self- 
 possessed while we looked at the contents of 
 the big portfolio ; she was again the spoiled 
 and petted child ; she was teasing this one 
 and laughing towards that ; an atmosphere 
 of enjoyment, of merriment, of delight in the 
 mere fact of living, seemed to surround her ; 
 while one could hardly avoid the suspicion
 
 TWO DISCOVERIES. 43 
 
 that she was well aware of the notice she was 
 attracting — of the covert glances that admired, 
 or envied her, the soft clear pallor of her com- 
 plexion, her long-lashed dark eyes, her cherry- 
 red mouth, her heavily-massed black hair, 
 with its solitary diamond star. Poor Wolfen- 
 berg was entirely neglected. It was the 
 women she was determined to fascinate. And 
 so, while she bedazzled them with her laughing 
 black eyes, or charmed them with her pretty 
 and wilful ways, or shocked them with her 
 iconoclastic paradoxes, he was fain to turn 
 to the only other serious person at table, and 
 to beg for some information about the accord 
 granted to strangers by the Royal Academy. 
 For even while she ignored him, he remained 
 solicitous about her interests. It was with 
 regard to the water-colour room at Burlington 
 House he now wanted to know. 
 
 But, as it chanced, we were on this evening 
 to learn something more, and something sur- 
 prising enough, concerning these two. For a
 
 44 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 considerable time we had lost sight of Lady 
 Cameron, and vaguely supposed she was 
 writing letters in the saloon, hoping to post 
 them at Tangier. But when she did rejoin 
 us, she had a very different tale to tell. She 
 crept down into our snug little corner aft of 
 the wheel-box. and began to speak in a hushed 
 and rather eager voice ; and it soon became 
 apparent that this was no mere discovery of 
 a sham Sappho that she had now to com- 
 municate. 
 
 " I have had a long talk with Miss 
 Dumaresq," she said, " and I cannot tell you 
 how she startled me. It is the saddest story 
 — one part of it ; and then the other part of it 
 very beautiful, I think. And I was quite 
 surprised by her manner while she was telling 
 it. There wasn't a trace of those airs and 
 graces ; she spoke with great feeling ; I could 
 hardly have imagined her showing such 
 sympathy " 
 
 "Yes, but what is it all about, Peggy ?"
 
 TWO DISCOVERIES. 45 
 
 put in Mrs. Threepenny-bit, to check this 
 incoherent utterance. 
 
 " You will be quite as much astonished as I 
 was," was the rejoinder, in those low and 
 hurried tones. "And yet there is no secret 
 about it. It is simply that Mr. Wolfenberg is 
 already married " 
 
 " Married ! " said Mrs. Threepenny-bit, in 
 dismay ; but it was only her own imaginings 
 that had been at fault. 
 
 " Oh, and to a dreadful woman ! " Peggy 
 went on. " It is the most terrible story, that 
 side of it. A man of his refined and imagi- 
 native temperament tied to a horrid creature, 
 a coarse, vulgar, shameless " 
 
 " Peggy," interposed her friend, with a little 
 coldness, " when a young lady takes a marked 
 and exceptional interest in a married man, I 
 wouldn't altogether trust what that young- 
 lady might say about the married man's wife." 
 
 " But listen to this — listen to facts," Peggy 
 persisted. " Fancy a woman who doesn't
 
 46 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 drink, but who used to pretend to drink in 
 order to shame him before his friends ! Fancy 
 a woman who, knowing he has a particularly 
 sensitive ear, used to take pathetic airs and 
 bang them out on the piano as waltzes and 
 polkas, simply to drive him from his work ! 
 Fancy a woman whose extravagance is not due 
 to any liking for luxury, but merely because 
 she knows it is his money she is throwing 
 away right and left ! That is a nice kind of 
 creature for a man like Wolfenberg to be tied 
 to!" 
 
 "Well, if it be so, it is all very sad and 
 wretched," said the smaller woman, absently. 
 " But it is a good thing for him he has a 
 dream-world to take refuge in." 
 
 " Wait a moment," said Peggy. " That is 
 only half the story. Now I come to the part 
 of it that seems to me beautiful. Only I wish 
 I could tell it to you as Miss Dumaresq told it 
 to me. She spoke in quite a proud way ; and 
 then again the startling things she says don't
 
 TWO DISCOVERIES. 47 
 
 sound so startling as coming from her, for 
 you get used to her habit of knocking over 
 accepted beliefs and traditions as if they were 
 ninepins. What she practically said was this : 
 ' The wrong that one woman has done him 
 another woman must atone for ; and I mean 
 to try. He shall not be left quite alone. I 
 cannot marry him, it is true ; but if he were 
 free to-morrow morning, I would not marry 
 him. For one thing, marriage is the great 
 disillusion iser. If a man and a woman have 
 a perfect regard and esteem and affection for 
 each other, and if they wish to preserve these, 
 then let them remain friends, firm and fast 
 friends, and nothing more. An exalted and 
 devoted friendship between two people of 
 kindred tastes and sympathies, who 
 thoroughly understand each other, who 
 have absolute confidence in each other, and 
 who have a constant delight in each other's 
 society, is a far more durable and desirable 
 thing than marriage with its hot-headed
 
 48 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 jealousies and wrangles and, after a little 
 while, its waning fires, followed by cold 
 indifference.' Oh, I tell you," Peggy went 
 on, " there is no beating about the bush with 
 Amelie Dumaresq. She says the conjugal 
 bond is the destroyer of all true comradeship 
 between a man and a woman. For her own 
 part, and quite outside these present circum- 
 stances, she says she wants to remain 
 independent, and to have her companionship 
 sought for as a favour and yielded voluntarily, 
 not demanded as a right. She wants to 
 follow out her own career, and has no mind 
 to sink into the position of a housekeeper for 
 any one else — looking after the dinner and 
 the nursery. She says that if you wish the 
 desire to meet each other, the delight in each 
 other's society, as between a man and a 
 woman, to be prolonged indefinitely, then do 
 not barter away freedom and bring in the 
 marriage pledge. Well, that is merely as 
 regards her own position. But, really, when
 
 TWO DISCOVERIES. 49 
 
 she began to describe Wolfenberg's broken 
 life, his banishment from his own country, 
 his loneliness, the very piteousness of the 
 gratitude he shows her for her romantic 
 association with him, she gave evidence of 
 a sympathy I should not have expected of 
 her. To tell you the truth, I thought she was 
 nothing but a pert, conceited, little chatterbox, 
 fond of saying alarming things simply to 
 attract attention. But she is more than that, 
 Missis. I wish you heard her talk of Wolf en - 
 berg — of his simplicity of character, his 
 unselfishness, his sensitive honour, his noble 
 humility, his freedom from anything in the 
 shape of envy, his generous recognition of 
 work far inferior to his own, and I don't 
 know what besides. Yes, I think there is 
 something fine in her determination to stand 
 by this man, who otherwise seems so solitary. 
 I did not think the little Georgian, or 
 Virginian, or whatever she is, was capable of 
 rising to such a situation." 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 It was getting late ; the two women had 
 to go. But already it had become abundantly 
 clear that they regarded this discovery from 
 very different points of view. 
 
 " It seems to me quite a beautiful relation- 
 ship," said Peggy, with a touch of enthusiasm, 
 as they were bidding each other good-night. 
 
 But the elder woman shook her head, 
 rather sadly. 
 
 "Do you think so?" she said. "Well, 
 I hope it may prove to be so. But I am 
 afraid. And wouldn't it be a terrible thing, 
 Peggy, if the second part of your story were 
 to turn out even more tragic than the first ? "
 
 ( Si ) 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 A DEVIATION. 
 
 Axd again comes another resplendent morning ; 
 but now we find that a brisk breeze has sprung 
 up ; the rolling and heaving blue -black waves 
 are flashing silver crests to the sun ; and far 
 away beyond the restless plain rise the pale 
 hills of Africa, terminating in the lofty and 
 precipitous Cape Spartel. The two early 
 risers are on deck, and alone. 
 
 "Listen to me," says Peggy, perching 
 herself high and comfortably on the wheel - 
 box — so high indeed that the light reflected 
 upward from the sea removes the ordinary 
 shadows from her face, and you would think 
 there was a supernatural radiance shining 
 there. " Do you know what the man said 
 
 LIBRARt 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF MJN09
 
 52 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 after he had read aloud the Ten Command- 
 ments ? " 
 
 " There never was any such man ! " one 
 answers her, impatiently; for Peggy's ways 
 are known. 
 
 " He said : l And now to turn to something 
 really serious.' And so I want you to tell me 
 honestly — as honestly as you can — whether 
 it is true we are not going in to Tangier 
 after all?" 
 
 "Well, the officers seem to say this is a 
 bad wind for landing ; there will be a heavy 
 surf." 
 
 " Where are we going, then ? " 
 
 " Who knows ? We may turn in to Gib. 
 Or make for Algiers ; or Tunis. We have 
 no cargo to deliver or take up, so we have 
 all the world to choose from." 
 
 " And you consider that amusing ? I do 
 not in the least. For look here." She pro- 
 duces the table of conditions under which we 
 took our berths. " Did you notice this clause ?
 
 A DEVIATION. 53 
 
 — ' The ship may deviate for any purpose 
 and to any extent.' What do you think of 
 that ? What does that mean ? Perhaps you 
 rather like a deviating ship. I don't, I can 
 tell you. Suppose it should deviate us against 
 an unknown island ? " 
 
 " It would please me to see you and the 
 Major shipwrecked on a desert coast. You 
 would make a romantic couple. At present 
 it must be painful for you to know that there 
 are about fifteen cameras on board, and that 
 at any moment one of them may be snapping 
 you from behind your back. Why, the uni- 
 versal amateur photographer must have as 
 wholesome a constraint over you as your 
 sister Emily." 
 
 " At all events," she retorts, " it is a good 
 thing there is one person on board who treats 
 me with respect. He wouldn't say spiteful 
 things. He wouldn't be rude to a poor lone 
 widow. He is always gallant, and courteous, 
 and anxious to please. He fetches my chair
 
 54 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 for me ; and sees that the cushion is right ; 
 and gives me a castle when I play chess with 
 him — he would give me a queen if I'd take it, 
 and be delighted to be beaten every time. 
 And just wait until we get into port : you'll 
 see who will have the prettiest bouquets of all 
 the women on this ship — and I know who will 
 bring them to her." Then of a sudden she 
 changes her tone. "I say — about Emily. I 
 suppose there's no doubt about our deviating 
 towards Palermo ? A fine thing it would be 
 if the Baby were left stranded all by herself in 
 a hotel ! " 
 
 "Oh, we shall get to Palermo all right. 
 But why do you still call her the Baby ? She 
 must be nearly eighteen by now." 
 
 "She is eighteen ; and she is as tall as I 
 am ; and weighs five pounds more." 
 
 " A very promising Baby, indeed ! " 
 
 And so as the morning went by we bored 
 our way into the Straits, against a hot east 
 wind and a heavily -running sea ; and passed
 
 A DEVIATION. 55 
 
 the yellow and grey scarred rock of Gib., with 
 Ceuta over there in the south ; and ploughed 
 onwards and onwards into the ever- widening 
 Mediterranean. Algiers, it was now known, 
 was our destination, and there was no murmur ; 
 some of us, indeed, would have been content 
 to leave land untouched for the next three 
 months if only the provisions were likely to 
 last. For the more we got to know of these 
 excellent Orotanians, the more we esteemed 
 them and their prevailing good humour and 
 kindness and courtesy ; and there were plenty 
 of amusements and occupations to pass those 
 long sunlit hours withal, even if we had not 
 had enough of other interests both within and 
 without our own small circle. For personal 
 relationships develop rapidly at sea ; and in 
 these combinations it seemed to us as though 
 every side of human nature was being dis- 
 played to us. 
 
 That evening Wolfenberg brought Amelie 
 Dumaresq along to our accustomed retreat,
 
 56 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 with some little apology for the very welcome 
 intrusion. It was a beautiful night : the sea 
 had gone down considerably ; there was a 
 cloudless sky ; a few pale stars were visible, 
 with one golden planet shining full and clear 
 in the deep violet vault. 
 
 " I want Miss Dumaresq to hear for herself/' 
 said he, as we made room for them, "what 
 you think about her first coming before the 
 British public — the best way, I mean. You 
 say the water-colour room at the Academy is 
 not much frequented ? " 
 
 " On the contrary, it is exceedingly popu- 
 lar — as a rendezvous for people going to 
 lunch." 
 
 " You would prefer a room in Bond Street — 
 a little exhibition all to herself ? " he continued. 
 " I was only a short time in London, and got 
 to know very few people — I was too busy with 
 the picture-galleries; but if this project came 
 off, I could have plenty of introductions from 
 the other side, and we might secure two or
 
 A DEVIATION, 57 
 
 three influential people who would get the 
 little collection talked of. The Academicians 
 wouldn't frown, would they, at this apparent 
 independence ? " 
 
 " Of course not. They would be more 
 likely to come to the Private View, if you 
 asked them." 
 
 "Not that I would have her neglect the 
 Academy — not at all," said he, with some 
 solicitude. " The fact is, although she has 
 been working in oils, she is not quite so 
 familiar with that medium yet ; but later on 
 I would have her send in a picture in oils to 
 the Academy." 
 
 " Lady Cameron," said Miss Dumaresq, with 
 a rueful little smile, "how would you like 
 to be in my position ? How would you like to 
 know yourself a very small person, and find 
 an artist like Mr. AVolfenberg bothering about 
 you, and treating you as if you were of im- 
 portance % Talk of my appealing to the British 
 public ! " she went on in another strain. " I
 
 58 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 know who ought to appeal, and who would 
 appeal with some effect, and that is Mr. 
 Wolfenberg himself. I think it is a shame he 
 should be known in England only by his 
 reputation. But buyers are so selfish. If they 
 weren't so selfish I tell you what I should like. 
 I should like a loan exhibition in our own 
 country of all Mr. Wolfenberg s paintings — a 
 complete collection. For people are so apt to 
 forget what a range of subjects a painter may 
 have covered, and they judge him by the 
 
 picture of the moment " 
 
 " There I don't agree with you, Anielie," 
 he said, with gentleness. " The critics may. 
 But the public are more generous. The public 
 judge of a man by his best work, and give 
 him his reputation from his best work. When 
 an artist has painted a great picture, the 
 public give him his position ; they put him 
 on a pedestal ; and they don't call on him 
 to come down if his subsequent work, however 
 sincere, should be unequal. The world does
 
 A DEVIATION. 59 
 
 not bother about striking averages ; that is 
 left to the critic. The world marks the 
 highest rung of the ladder a man has reached, 
 and writes his name on the wall there, to 
 remain." 
 
 " Well, Ernest, you, at least, have no right 
 to complain of the critics ; they have always 
 been most kind to you," Miss Dumaresq 
 interposed, pleasantly. 
 
 " The critic," he said, in an absent kind of 
 way, "so seldom remembers that it may be 
 himself — his own capacity or incapacity — he 
 is revealing to the public. When Carlyle 
 wrote his article on Scott, he was not giving 
 us the measure of Walter Scott, he was giving 
 us the measure of Thomas Carlyle." 
 
 But there was no indifferentism, either of 
 manner or speech, about him when — Mrs. 
 Dumaresq having come to call her daughter 
 away for some purpose or another — he was 
 left free to speak on a subject that more nearly 
 concerned him.
 
 60 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 "I confess," he said, ' ; I am looking forward 
 with a little disquiet to this visit of Miss 
 Dumaresq's to the East. It was I who urged 
 her mother and herself to go. I thought it 
 would be a kind of education for Amelie ; 
 and with the future she has before her, all 
 the best possible influences should be brought 
 to bear on her. And yet I don't quite know 
 that she will understand the ' brooding East' — 
 the Mother of Dreams and Mysteries. Amelie 
 comes of the 'impious youuger world.' You 
 must have noticed what a terribly candid 
 mind she has," he said, rather addressing 
 himself to Mrs. Threepenny-bit. 
 
 " Yes, indeed," said that person, frankly. 
 
 "But not hard and literal — not unreceptive," 
 he interposed, hastily. " She has really a fine 
 sympathy for fine things ; only, as I say, the 
 things must be fine. And she has the most 
 profound contempt for the ordinary funny 
 American ; you need fear nothing on that 
 score I think you said you would allow
 
 A DEVIATION. 6r 
 
 her to go about with you a little when you 
 went ashore anywhere ? — you see, her mother 
 is something of an invalid, and is not likely 
 to leave the ship much. And you need not 
 be afraid of any of that affected irreverence 
 — any of that continuous and feeble flippancy 
 that becomes so distressing. " 
 
 "Oh no, no, no, Mr. Wolfenberg ! " the 
 small woman says. " We shall be delighted 
 to have Miss Dumaresq with us. If we have 
 to fear any irreverence or mischief- making, 
 it is from this American-Highlander here." 
 
 " Oh, listen to her ! " exclaims Peggy, with 
 awe-stricken eyes. " Me ? You accuse me 
 of such a thing ! And you," she goes on, 
 turning to her other neighbour, "what have 
 you to say to such a charge ? Have you not 
 a word in my defence ? " 
 
 " ' The noblest answer unto such Is perfect 
 stillness when they brawl/ " 
 
 But yet again Peggy speaks up on her own 
 behalf — and speaks up boldly too.
 
 62 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 " Why, as for that," she says, " don't you 
 imagine you are going to turn me into a 
 regulation tourist. I will not be instructed 
 on any pretence whatever. I will not follow 
 a guide about. I will not read up history." 
 
 "Not a little English history?" puts in 
 the small woman, with her usual ignoble 
 sarcasm. 
 
 "And I like the notion," continues Peggy, 
 "of you two talking to me about my serious 
 duties! — you two, who are the most obstinately 
 indolent, the very worst sight-seers I ever 
 beheld ! But do as you please. Swallow all 
 the churches and mosques if you like. But 
 not for me, thank you. Why, the only idea 
 of an Englishman that exists in the French 
 imagination is that he is a tall man with a 
 red book. Well, I don't wish to be ticketed 
 off in that way. I am a free-born American, 
 I am. Sacramento was my dwelling-place, 
 and Scotland is my nation " 
 
 " What your salvation is likely to be,"
 
 A DEVIATION. 63 
 
 says Mrs. Threepenny-bit (for she, too, has 
 heard of the old rhyme), " it would be hard 
 to say — unless you keep a more civil tongue 
 in your head." 
 
 Next morning we were nearing the end 
 of the first stage of our voyage. And yet 
 it cannot be said that these familiar features 
 around us had grown in any way monotonous ; 
 nay, they had been constantly beautiful — 
 the long decks ablaze in the sunshine ; the 
 gently-moving shadows of the ropes and 
 spars ; the soft twilight under the awnings ; 
 outside the great circle of blue sea — that 
 deep, opaque, fierce Mediterranean blue that 
 is like nothing else in heaven or earth ; and 
 overhead the pale sky of the south — a faint 
 rose-purple, fading to white at the horizon. 
 But all the same, as we slowly streamed into 
 the vivid green waters of the harbour of 
 Algiers, there was something in change ; and 
 the eye rather welcomed those brilliantly- 
 coloured boats, with their swarthy boatmen.
 
 64 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 And then, instead of sea and sky meeting 
 featureless all around the horizon, here was 
 a great shining city — a perfect blaze of yellow- 
 white buildings on the face of a long ridge 
 of hill that was crowned by far-extending 
 masses of olive -green foliage. Picturesque 
 enough in its way : the shimmering, trans- 
 lucent water, with its parti- coloured craft ; 
 then the long extent of arched stores and 
 wharves ; then the tall, French-looking 
 terraces ; then the mass of flat-roofed Moorish 
 houses, with here and there the rounded dome 
 of a mosque. Not so impressive, naturally, 
 as a wholly Eastern city; but nevertheless 
 something novel to look upon — after those 
 long days of blue-and-silver glancing seas. 
 
 Of course there was some little excitement 
 about going ashore : parties being hastily 
 formed, and the eager ones getting early away 
 in the ship's boats. Our own little group, 
 including Wolfenberg and Miss Dumaresq, 
 lingered for long irresolute, hardly knowing
 
 A DEVIATION. 65 
 
 whether it was worth while in view of our 
 leaving again in the afternoon ; but finally we 
 decided upon going in the very last boat, 
 which happened to be the steam-launch. And 
 yet it was not we who were responsible for 
 any delay ; it was the Passionate Poetess ; for 
 just as we had all got comfortably settled in 
 the launch, and the engineer was about to set 
 the screw revolving, she appealed to the 
 Purser. 
 
 " One moment, Mr. Purser, please ! I 
 really cannot leave my little dog ! I am so 
 afraid of those men ! I will not detain you 
 a minute." 
 
 Black grew the Purser's brows ; but he did 
 not utter a word ; while Sappho hurriedly got 
 out, and began to ascend the accommodation- 
 ladder with such speed as was possible in the 
 circumstances. To us it mattered little, but 
 she certainly was a long time away ; then we 
 beheld her coming down again, her precious 
 charge borne in one arm. Would that that 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 66 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 had been all ! But at the foot of the ladder a 
 dreadful accident occurred. Her foot slipped 
 somehow ; she clung to the iron stanchion 
 with one hand ; inevitably she swung round ; 
 and alas ! in saving herself from being pitched 
 headforemost into the sea, she was forced for 
 a moment to abandon Phaon, who inconti- 
 nently tumbled down on to the grating and 
 next into the water. Immediately there was 
 a mighty commotion : it was as if a baby had 
 to be saved. Arms were stretched out — and 
 stretched out in vain ; Sappho, who had 
 sprung on board the launch, called frantically 
 on Phaon ; while the fat little grey pug, with 
 his black snout and wrinkled forehead well 
 out of water, was splashing away with his 
 fore-paws, and swimming, as much as he could 
 swim, in the wrong direction. And then the 
 man at the bow, seizing a boat-hook, made a 
 dash at him. Sappho shrieked. 
 
 " Don't !— don t !— you'll kill him ! " she 
 called, piteously ; for she evidently thought
 
 A DEVIATION. 67 
 
 the man wanted to gaff the animal, as one 
 would gaff a salmon. 
 
 But what he really meant to do was to 
 hook up the silken string attached to Phaon's 
 collar ; and in this he succeeded ; the dog was 
 led down aft, and hauled on board, and 
 delivered to his mistress ; and she, exhausted 
 by these wild emotions, and overjoyed to get 
 her beloved into the very midst of us, made 
 him finally secure by depositing him, stream- 
 ing, and shaking himself, and winking his 
 beady eyes, right on to the Majors polished 
 boots. 
 
 What our respected friend said upon this 
 occasion can never now be known ; for there 
 was a sudden rattle of the engine, and a whirr 
 of the screw ; but, as he tried to withdraw his 
 feet from under this sprawling encumbrance, 
 there was a look on his face that was too awful 
 to contemplate without apprehension. And 
 what must she do but heap insult upon injury ? 
 
 " Major, would you mind holding this for
 
 68 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 a moment ? " she said, handing him the blue 
 si] ken string. " Phaon is so impulsive — so 
 imretuous " 
 
 " Nurse and jam the confounded little 
 beast ! " said the Major — or rather it was 
 something resembling these sounds that 
 escaped from between his set teeth ; but 
 probably she did not hear, for there was such 
 a spluttering noise from the engine. At all 
 events, he was forced to hold the string for 
 her ; while she proceeded to open her hand- 
 bag, and from thence she took a small brush, 
 and with that she began to smooth down 
 Phaon's dripping coat, while in vain did the 
 Major try to get his feet away from the 
 prancing and dancing of those four restless 
 legs. We began to fear that Phaon would 
 not see the end of this voyage. 
 
 Meanwhile we got ashore, and climbed the 
 stifling hot steps, and crossed the blinding 
 white Boulevard, and were glad to escape 
 from the glare of the sunlight into the cool
 
 A DEVIATION. 69 
 
 shadows of the Jardin Marengo, with its 
 branching palms, and bamboos, and tall 
 tamarinds. But Mrs. Threepenny-bit, mind- 
 ful of former days on the Nile, and anxious 
 to renew her acquaiutance with those Arabs 
 whose dignity of deportment she had always 
 so much admired, was soon ready to be off 
 again. Had she not under her wing this 
 young American, whose nascent artist-mincl 
 was hungering after new impressions ? 
 
 And as we went wandering idly through 
 the town, choosing the more shaded thorough- 
 fares, one could not but admire the delicate 
 way in which Wolfenberg recognized that 
 Amelie Dumaresq had been confided to the 
 elder lady's charge. He claimed no right of 
 association ; he was just as the others ; nay, 
 he rather kept away from her. But at times, 
 of course, he had to call her attention to this 
 thing or that ; and then he would do so in a 
 curiously respectful way. For example, in the 
 Rue Bab Azoun we came upon an oddly
 
 70 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 incongruous sight — a shabby-looking little 
 French omnibus filled with grave and stately 
 and silent Arabs, in their turbans and flowing 
 white robes. 
 
 "Amelie," he said, stepping up to her, 
 " there is a subject for you." 
 
 She glanced in the direction indicated. 
 
 " It is too bizarre," she answered him. 
 
 "It is Algiers," he said, and then he fell 
 back again into the order of our procession. 
 
 For we were going two and two, and even 
 then we did not escape remark. The Major 
 and Lady Cameron led the way; and no doubt 
 they were conspicuously foreigners ; the Major 
 being plump, and fresh-coloured, and cheerful- 
 looking, while Peggy was tall, and fair-com- 
 plexioned, and handsome. And now it was 
 that Mrs. Threepenny-bit grew wroth. For 
 while the Arabs, calm, serious, impassive of 
 demeanour, went by without appearing to take 
 the slightest notice of us, the low- class French 
 pojDulation turned to stare at the strangers,
 
 A DEVIATION. 71 
 
 grinning, chattering, and nudging each other. 
 Nay, one yellow-skinned little wretch of a boy 
 had the audacity to look up at our Peggy, and 
 say " Ole raight ! " This it was that set the 
 smaller woman's soul ablaze. 
 
 " Miss Dumaresq," said she, " has it ever 
 occurred to you that it is only the northern 
 nations of Europe that have the faculty of 
 laughing ? The French never laugh. They 
 haven't the physique. They can only snigger." 
 Here, indeed, was a stupendous generalization ; 
 and all because an impudent little Algerian 
 gamin had mocked at our tall young friend 
 from Inverfask. 
 
 There was, of course, nothing of this kind 
 when we had got away up into the Arab 
 quarter of the city. As we were slowly per- 
 ambulating the steep and narrow thorough- 
 fares, and admiring the endless variety and 
 picturesqueness of costume and colour, Miss 
 Dumaresq turned to her temporary guardian. 
 
 " When we came ashore at first," said she, "I
 
 72 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 thought we had made a mistake. I thought we 
 had got into nothing but a second-rate French 
 town. But now I should like to spend six 
 months in Algiers — or three or four times that." 
 
 " You are beginning too soon," said her 
 companion, with a smile. " At least, if you 
 go on in the same way, by the time we have 
 finished this voyage you will have formed 
 plans for two lifetimes." 
 
 When at last we made away back again for 
 the Boulevard, and came in sight of the Hotel 
 de l'Europe, we descried various groups of our 
 fellow- Orotanians, just as you are sure to find 
 English people hanging about Shepheard's 
 Hotel in Cairo. The first person we en- 
 countered inside was the Passionate Spinster, 
 who was in dire distress, for she could get 
 nobody to attend to her. So she threw 
 herself upon us. She besought the Major to 
 find a safe corner in the saloon, where Phaon 
 might be tied up. She asked if she might 
 have a seat at our table. And when, after
 
 A DEVIATION. 73 
 
 lunch, it was suggested that, instead of sending 
 for two carriages, we ought simply to charter 
 one of those small omnibuses with the open 
 windows and curtains, which would be so 
 much cooler, and would accommodate the 
 whole of us, she eagerly embraced that 
 proposition, counting herself in. And thus 
 it was that she who claimed kinship with 
 c the Lesbian woman of immortal fame' 
 bestowed her society on us during our drive 
 out to Mustafa Inferieur. Why not ? After 
 all, human beings are of different kinds, and 
 the world is wide. 
 
 " Yes, but an Algerian omnibus is narrow," 
 said the Major, subsequently ; and the mere 
 recollection of his sufferings once more aroused 
 in him a furious wrath. " By heavens, I will 
 strangle that little beast if it ever comes near 
 my legs or feet again ! " 
 
 Before we got under weigh that afternoon 
 an apparently trifling incident occurred which 
 we had occasion afterwards to recall. A
 
 74 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 French Colonel and his wife, with their little 
 girl, had come out to look over the ship ; and 
 while the former were talking to the captain, 
 the latter was being made much of by a 
 number of the young ladies on board. But 
 this small creature of seven or eight remained 
 proof against all their blandishments. She 
 was absolutely imperturbable, regarding them, 
 it is true, but not responding in any way 
 whatever. They tried her with various kinds 
 of French, including that of Ollendorff and 
 that of Stratford- atte-Bo we — Aimez-vous 
 VAfrique f . . . Vas-tu promener partout 
 d voir le vaisseau? . . . Allons, descendons 
 au salon et je te donnerai des sucres. . . . 
 Petite, serrez les mains chez moi. . . . 
 Travaillez-vous a vos lecons, mademoiselle ? 
 . . . N'avez vous pas une seule parole pour 
 nous f . . . As-tu regarde le capitaine de la 
 shippe ? . . . Such were the rags and tags of 
 this ingenuous and one-sided conversation that 
 came floating towards us. But no ; they could
 
 A DEVIATION. 75 
 
 win no response. She remained quite im- 
 passive and silent. 
 
 Now it was at this moment that a young 
 Eussian who had not gone ashore — indeed, he 
 had hitherto mixed but little with his fellow- 
 passengers — came along, took up the book he 
 had left in his deck-chair, and, sitting down, 
 began to read. He was quite near to this 
 small child, but he did not pay any attention 
 to her ; she, on the contrary, regarded him 
 attentively for a moment or two, and then, 
 as if drawn by curiosity or by some more 
 occult attraction, went close up to his chair. 
 He became aware of her approach, and raised 
 his eyes from his book. Very beautiful eyes 
 they were, if it is not absurd to call a man's 
 eyes beautiful — blue-grey, dark-lashed, and 
 full of light ; and when they were bent on this 
 small, inquisitive stranger, she, who had hither- 
 to seemed so entirely abstracted and indifferent, 
 smiled in response. Nay, she held out her 
 tiny hand. "Bonjour, monsieur!" she said.
 
 76 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 And of course he accepted that timid proffer 
 of comradeship at once ; he spoke to her ; she 
 replied to him, in her pretty and childish way ; 
 and so, in the most simple and easy fashion in 
 the world, these two had become friends. 
 
 " Did you notice that ? — isn't that remark- 
 able ? " said Amelie Duniaresq, in a quick 
 undertone, to Wolfenberg. "Tell me, Ernest, 
 who is he ? — he hardly ever speaks to any one." 
 
 " He is a Eussian — Hitrovo — Paul Hitrovo," 
 was the answer, also uttered guardedly. 
 
 " Do you know him ? Have you talked 
 with him ? " 
 
 " A little." 
 
 "Will you introduce him to me — some 
 other time ? " 
 
 Wolfenberg looked surprised, almost startled. 
 
 " Oh yes, if you wish it — oh yes, certainly," 
 he said — while the fascinated small French 
 girl was still standing by Paul Hitrovo's chair, 
 listening to him, and looking up into his 
 smiling eyes.
 
 ( 77 ) 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 AN INTRODUCTION. 
 
 And again the gods have given us a gracious 
 morning ; the heavens cloudless and serene ; 
 the far-stretching circle of the sea rolling its 
 blue-black waves and lapping and flashing in 
 the sun ; an unstable world save for the long 
 and mountainous rampart down there in the 
 south — the grey-scarred and sterile-looking 
 cliffs of the African coast. And here, under 
 the welcome shade of the awning, one comes 
 upon two of the passengers who appear to be 
 in close and earnest confabulation. It is of 
 Wolfenberg and Amelie Dumaresq they are 
 talking. 
 
 " Well, Missis," says the Lady of Inverfask, 
 addressing her friend by the last invented of
 
 78 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 all her innumerable sobriquets, " I cannot 
 understand wiry you should be so apprehensive. 
 You yourself admit that such a relationship 
 would be beautiful, if only it could be made 
 permanent. What is to hinder its beiDg 
 permanent ? Miss Dumaresq would tell you 
 that it is all the more likely to last because 
 there is no bond, because it is voluntary, 
 because each knows that the other could 
 break away. What she says is simply this : 
 ' Husbands and wives lead a far happier life, 
 a far more eauable and contented life, when 
 they have ceased to be lovers, and have 
 become good friends. Why, then, should not 
 Mr. Wolfenberg and I take up the latter half 
 of this relationship, since the former is im- 
 possible ? ' You know her frank way of speak- 
 ing. And her ideas are as clear as her speech. 
 She is no school-girl, with her head full of 
 sentiment and dreams. She has seen the 
 world. She has had experience of men — and 
 not a very fortunate one, I imagine : you see
 
 AN INTRODUCTION. 79 
 
 the family are rich ; and I rather fancy, from 
 one or two things she said, that she has made 
 unpleasant discoveries — or, at least, had un- 
 pleasant suspicions — with regard to certain of 
 the young men who came about her. But 
 here is a man whom she can absolutely trust ; 
 whom she admires and respects beyond 
 measure ; with whom she is in sympathy on 
 every point ; and why should not their close 
 and constant association together be as 
 permanent as any marriage-bond ? According 
 to her, it is the conjugal relationship that dis- 
 enchants ; here there can be no disenchantment ; 
 they remain to each other just as they are. 
 And look at their comradeship in art : another 
 tie. She must perceive that he has all the 
 qualities that she lacks : another reason for 
 sympathy. And then his solitary position ; 
 she pities him ; she is resolved to stand by 
 him — oh, I don't see that you should be so 
 apprehensive ! " 
 
 For a second or two the smaller woman was
 
 So WOLFENBERG. 
 
 silent— looking absently across the flashing 
 waters to the pale line of mountainous coast. 
 At last she said — 
 
 " Well, Peggy, if I were Mr. Wolfenberg, I 
 would go ashore at the very first port we come 
 to, and I would make my way back to 
 America." 
 
 " To be met at New York by that woman, 
 with a troop of her drunken companions ? " 
 
 The conversation could not be continued 
 further ; for at this moment Miss Dumaresq 
 herself appeared, coming quickly along the 
 deck, her head raised and careless, her arms 
 swinging a little with the mere exuberance of 
 life. The small and graceful figure looked neat 
 in its Sunday-morning costume of black silk 
 and white frills ; and when she came up it was 
 apparent that she had paid particular heed to 
 her toilet — the high- arched, dark eyebrows had 
 been touched, perhaps also the pretty mouth. 
 But it was not of that she was thinking. 
 
 "I have some news for you," said she, with
 
 AN INTRODUCTION. * 81 
 
 great animation, and her brilliant black eyes 
 were full of pleasure and eagerness, ''but it 
 must not be spoken of ; you must not mention 
 it to any one ; and especially not to Mr. 
 AVolfenberg. He has just been telling me ; 
 and what a surprise it is ! For we quite 
 understood that he was going to take the full 
 seven weeks' holiday ; but with an artist like 
 him a sudden inspiration takes possession ; 
 and it is no use his trying to put it aside and 
 turn to it later on. What do you think, then, 
 of the subject Mr. Wolfenberg is considering ? 
 — the Fountain of Callirrhoe ! " She was quite 
 breathless with the joy of this discovery ; but 
 she had to speak in tones of subdued excite- 
 ment, for there were other people now coming 
 along. " Can you not imagine what he will 
 make of it — the deserted Greek girl killing 
 herself by the side of the water — or, perhaps, 
 the dead girl disappearing — I don't know, but 
 this I do know, that it will be something to 
 make one's fingers tremble and make one's 
 yol. r. g
 
 82 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 eyes fill. It will be splendid — splendid ! 
 And no one must speak to him about it, or he 
 will be anxious and discontented, and perhaps 
 throw the subject aside altogether; no, it must 
 be allowed to grow up of itself in his mind, 
 quite in silence, and then — then some day you 
 will see! And just think of this: he has 
 asked my advice ! — my advice ! — as if I and 
 my wooden dolls could be of any use to him ! 
 Prospero, the master of spirits, come to ask 
 the advice of Caliban carving sticks ! " 
 
 " At least it was a great honour," said 
 
 " And now he will dream about that all the 
 way until we get to Athens," she went on — 
 and really this exhilaration of interest added 
 quite a new charm to the pretty face and the 
 lustrous dark eyes ; " and it does not matter 
 whether the real fountain, if there is one, lends 
 itself well or not : the picture will be already 
 complete in his mind. I am delighted ! You 
 know I was rather afraid that mother and I
 
 AN INTRODUCTION. 83 
 
 had forced this idleness on him — he is so ready 
 to sacrifice himself ; and I feared, too, he 
 might be bored by the society of two women. 
 But now I am quite at ease. Now he will 
 never want for companionship and for occu- 
 pation so long as he has his picture to think 
 about ; and when you notice him walking up 
 and down by himself, and not speaking to 
 any one, you need not imagine he is idle. Ah, 
 I tell you, you will see something when you 
 see the Fountain of Callirrhoe ! " 
 
 Welcome news ; but perhaps we were even 
 better pleased, and more interested, in observ- 
 ing the genuine enthusiasm with which this 
 girl spoke of AVolfenberg's work. That was 
 at least one bond the more between these two 
 oddly situated persons. 
 
 This was a Sunday morning ; there was 
 service on deck, under the awning ; the young- 
 women's voices sounded sweet and clear above 
 the monotonous swish of the waves along the 
 vessel's side.
 
 8 4 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 In the afternoon the Passionate Spinster 
 bore clown upon us, bringing with her a whole 
 armful of translations — and Lempriere. There 
 was no escape ; she had skilfully cut off 
 retreat ; and soon the tale of her unnumbered 
 woes was unfolded. It turned out that she 
 had heard from one of the officers that on the 
 following morning we should be within sight 
 of the shores of Sicily, the song-haunted 
 island ; and with a generous ardour she had 
 set to work to prepare herself, first of all by 
 tracing out the wanderings of Ulysses. But 
 there were riddles and disappointments in the 
 way ; and now, as she spoke, the sandy-haired 
 woman with the cold grey eyes seemed to be 
 in a bit of a temper. 
 
 "It really is too bad!" she said, fretfully. 
 "You cant trust one of these books. You 
 would think that since they have been labour- 
 ing away at their mechanical tasks through 
 so many generations, there might be a little 
 agreement among them. But why does one
 
 AN INTRODUCTION. 85 
 
 say, ' mother of dawn, the rosy-fingered 
 morning,' while another says, ' daughter of 
 dawn, the rosy-fingered morning ; ' and why 
 do they write Aias when they mean Ajax ; 
 and what on earth is the use of saying 
 Peleides instead of Achilles, and Atreides 
 instead of Agamemnon ? " 
 
 Now these were amazing questions to come 
 from the perfervid Sappho, who continually 
 adorns her pages with copious quotations from 
 the Greek and Latin — inaccurate for the most 
 part, no doubt, but of excellent intention. 
 
 " However, it is the geography that is most 
 irritating," she continues, with more than a 
 "snap" of anger in her voice. "Look at the 
 confusion caused by having Phseacia, Scheria, 
 Corcyra, Corfu — four names — all for the same 
 place ! And one writer tells you that 
 Calypso's island is Gozo, which is close by 
 Malta, and another declares that it is Ogygia, 
 supposed to be opposite Lacinium ! " 
 
 At this point, unhappily, the volume of
 
 86 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 Lempriere fell upon Pliaon ; and the lament- 
 able howl that the poor little beast set up 
 awoke the Major, who was asleep in a 
 neighbouring chair. The Major turned round, 
 glared, muttered something, doubtless of an 
 unholy character, to himself — and then, 
 struggling to his feet, made his way to the 
 grating surrounding the wheel-box, where he 
 again sought soft slumber, though in a far 
 more uncomfortable position. 
 
 " You see they will not call anything by 
 a simple name ! " exclaimed our poetess, with 
 a savage wrath which we were sorry to see 
 agitating so celestial a mind. " When Ulysses, 
 after leaving iEolia, is ship-wrecked, he is 
 thrown upon the coasts of the Lasstrygones ; 
 but the coasts of the Lasstrygones are simply 
 Sicily ! — and it is Sicily that he has quite 
 recently left, after having escaped from the 
 giant Polyphemus " 
 
 "Miss Penguin, why should you bother 
 with boys' stories ! " interposed Amelie
 
 AN INTRODUCTION, 87 
 
 Dumaresq, with a touch of disdain. " Sicily 
 for me will be the land of Hermione, and 
 Perdita, and the good Camillo, and the statue 
 that becomes a woman before the eyes of the 
 King. That is something worth thinking 
 about ! " 
 
 " And I," puts in our Peggy, " am going 
 to find out from which port Antigonus and 
 Hermione's child could have sailed when they 
 were blown on the shores of Bohemia." 
 
 "The shores of Bohemia?" is the in- 
 credulous cry. 
 
 " Yes," she says, calmly. " Didn't you 
 know that the dukes of Bohemia had 
 possessions and seaports on the Adriatic 
 coast 1 ?" For Peggy is always flourishing 
 this profound piece of erudition before us — 
 though some of us may have dark doubts as 
 to its authenticity. 
 
 Meanwhile, what had become of the young 
 Eussian whose beautiful eyes had thawed the 
 frigidity of the little French girl ; and what
 
 88 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 had become of the introduction that Amelie 
 Dumaresq had asked for? Well, for one 
 thing, M. Paul Hitrovo was rather a 
 mysterious and enigmatical young man. 
 Beyond the fact that he generally passed the 
 morning in the deck smoking-room, whiling 
 away the time with cigarettes, no one could 
 say precisely how or where he spent the 
 remainder of the day, He rarely mixed with 
 his fellow-passengers ; he never joined in any 
 of the games going forward ; he came late to 
 meals, and remained after the others had left. 
 Then, again, a formal introduction is an un- 
 usual, and a marked, thing on board ship : we 
 could understand Wolfenberg's embarrassment 
 over her blunt request. On board ship people 
 make each other's acquaintance through a 
 variety of little accidents, or through some 
 chance talking to a common friend. But as 
 for going to a young man and saying that a 
 certain young lady wished that he should be 
 introduced to her — how was such a thinsr to
 
 AN INTRODUCTION. 89 
 
 be done, especially when the go-between was 
 so proud and sensitive a person as Ernest 
 Wolfenberg ? He of all men would be the 
 first to shrink from anything that seemed to 
 compromise, in the remotest degree, this 
 young lady who had made so unexpected a 
 demand. 
 
 And, indeed, it was in an entirely hap- 
 hazard fashion that their coming together was 
 accomplished, on this same Sunday afternoon. 
 The Dumaresqs and several others had gone 
 below to have tea, and they had just taken 
 their places when Hitrovo came into the 
 saloon, looking around him in his customary 
 indolent, good-natured way. 
 
 " Won't you come to our table ? " said 
 Wolfenberg. 
 
 " If I may," he answered, smiling ; and 
 forthwith he installed himself in one of the 
 chairs, opposite Miss Dumaresq and her 
 mother. 
 
 There was no set introduction. After a
 
 90 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 second or two he quite naturally and simply 
 joined in the general talk, speaking excellent 
 English, with hardly a trace of accent. He 
 was singularly good-looking ; he had pleasant 
 manners ; so far from trying to impress or 
 shine, he seemed in a measure indifferent ; 
 and those clear blue-grey eyes of his, when 
 they lighted on a woman, bespoke favour for 
 him. But the curious thing was that his 
 coming to this table appeared to have frozen 
 up Amelie Dumaresq. Ordinarily eager and 
 animated, thrilling with life and loquacious, 
 she was now constrained and embarrassed ; 
 she did not glance his way at all ; she kept 
 her eyes downcast or averted ; she was silent. 
 Her mother might join in this random con- 
 versation about the ship and our prospects : 
 she had not one word. For the first time 
 since we had made her acquaintance she 
 seemed to have lost her self-possession ; and 
 on that account it was all the more marked. 
 But Hitrovo did not appear to notice ; he had
 
 AN INTRODUCTION. 91 
 
 enough to do in talking to these other ladies, 
 who were all more or less strangers to him. 
 And when at length he went away, it was 
 clear that he had impressed them most 
 favourably. 
 
 " Well, Amelie, I brought him to you," 
 Wolfenberg said, with a smile. 
 
 " Yes, Ernest," she answered, with some 
 touch of confusion. " I — I did want to find 
 out something about him — after the incident 
 with the little French girl. That struck me. 
 But I hardly wonder at it. He has extra- 
 ordinary eyes." 
 
 So she had glanced at him, after all ? 
 
 " That French child," said Mrs. Dumaresq, 
 " has began early to find out that gentlemen's 
 eyes may be attractive." 
 
 "There was more than that, mamma. She 
 went up to him while he was still reading," 
 the daughter made reply ; but she was clearly 
 not inclined to enter into any discussion about 
 this young man, or his looks, or ways, or
 
 92 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 manners. Presently she rose and left the 
 table, and went up on deck, taking her 
 book with her, and choosing a chair where 
 she could be by herself. 
 
 Towards evening we could make out the 
 sharp peaks of Galita island, far away ahead 
 of us in the mystic grey of the east ; and as 
 night closed round us there was the golden 
 ray of the lighthouse streaming out from time 
 to time. 
 
 The morning found us among the iEgadean 
 Isles, off the west coast of Sicily — those lonely 
 and voiceless rocks, lofty, and arid, and scarred 
 — their ruddy cliffs set in a perfect calm of 
 blue sea. Sappho was running all about the 
 ship imploring people to tell her whether 
 it was on the mainland or on one of those 
 islands that Ulysses encountered the Cyclops ; 
 Peggy was delighted to discover that we 
 should reach Palermo early in the afternoon, 
 for she wanted to snatch away the Baby from 
 all possibility of brigands ; Mrs. Threepenny-
 
 AN INTRODUCTION. 93 
 
 bit was expecting letters, to learn how many 
 more teeth her precious boys had had knocked 
 out at football ; and the Major was secretly 
 disclosing to one or two friends a plan he had 
 formed for enticing Phaon away from his 
 mistress in the streets of Palermo, and intro- 
 ducing him to a sausage-maker. In short, 
 there was quite a stir with the beginning 
 of the new week and our nearing another 
 halting-place. Even Paul Hitrovo came on 
 deck, and talked a little with Mrs. Dumaresq, 
 her daughter standing by, looking on and 
 listening. 
 
 But it was with Wolfenberg that Amelie 
 Dumaresq spent most of the morning and 
 noon, for no doubt the two artists had much 
 to observe and talk of in common, as we 
 steamed on by Cape St. Yito, and across 
 the Gulf of Castellamare, and past the evil- 
 named Punta deH'Uomo Morto, making on- 
 wards for Cape Gallo. This northern coast 
 of Sicily is magnificently picturesque : vast
 
 94 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 and precipitous cliffs of a sombre red, here 
 and there rising into darker peaks, about 
 as sharp as the Aiguilles overlooking the 
 Mer de Glace, here and there dipping down 
 into a spacious valley, with groves of orange 
 and citron sweltering in the heat. A lonely 
 coast it seemed, too : it was at long intervals 
 that a little grey powder, as it were — a thin, 
 insignificant line at the foot of those giant 
 cliffs — revealed a village down by the shore. 
 In times of storm and louring skies, these 
 bold headlands, and the long spurs terminating 
 in a solitary lighthouse, must look grand 
 indeed ; but now, as we saw them across 
 the trembling and shimmering blue sea, they 
 had grown visionary and spectral in the haze 
 of settled fine weather. The intervening air 
 seemed to be dense with sunlight. 
 
 And what did those two think of Palermo 
 — Palermo the Superb — as we slowly steamed 
 into the pellucid green water ? To the non- 
 professional eye the more striking features were
 
 AN INTRODUCTION. 95 
 
 obvious enough : a noble bay, far extending, 
 with long moles and promenades ; white 
 terraces just above the sea ; public gardens, 
 with foliage of freshest verdure ; then the 
 gradually-ascending town, with its countless 
 domes and spires ; and behind all that a 
 mighty semicircle of mountains, twisted and 
 torn and thrown about as if by the hand of 
 some scene-painter gone out of his senses. 
 Indeed, one began to ask one's-self if all 
 this were quite real — if it were solid, in fact. 
 Was there not some strange suggestion of a 
 huo;e wooden frame, with a breadth of 
 shivering canvas stretched over it ? Those 
 white terraces, and green gardens, and domes 
 and spires, and wildly-twisted mountain - 
 peaks : were they permeable to a draught 
 of air coming from over the stalls ? And 
 if one were to whistle suddenly, would not 
 a number of dusky and shabby men imme- 
 diately rush out and run the whole panoramic 
 thing away on wheels ?
 
 96 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 If this was what Amelie Dumaresq was 
 thinking of the imposing city before her, 
 she was speedily startled out of her reverie. 
 All at once, and just as we were about getting 
 to our anchorage, but while there was still 
 considerable way on the vessel, it was 
 discovered that the steam steering-gear had 
 got out of order. The swiftness with which 
 this mishap was rectified was admirable. 
 Before any of the passengers quite understood 
 what had happened, the first officer and 
 four or five of the hands had hurried aft 
 to the wheel, unshipped the case, got the 
 mechanism into working-trim, and the next 
 minute the ship was answering her helm 
 just as if nothing had occurred. And 
 presently we heard the sonorous call, "Let 
 go the anchor ! " — followed by a roar and a 
 plunge that must have made that canvas city 
 quake. 
 
 Then the various boats that had come out 
 from the harbour — heavily built craft, most
 
 AN INTRODUCTION. 97 
 
 of them, and gay of colour — began to make 
 for the steamer ; while on board there was 
 a good deal of bustle among those preparing 
 to go ashore. But we were never among 
 the first of these ; and so it chanced that 
 Mrs. Threepenny-bit was idly gazing over 
 the side, when her eye caught sight of 
 something. 
 
 "Peggy/' she called, "here are some visitors 
 in one of the boats — is this your sister ? " 
 
 Peggy came running. 
 
 " Oh, good gracious, it's the Baby ! " she 
 cried, in wild delight. " And these are the 
 Vincents with her — how kind of them ! — they 
 have brought her over from Naples." And 
 with that she waved her handkerchief franti- 
 cally, and succeeded in arresting their atten- 
 tion, for there was an answering signal ; and 
 then she went quickly to the top of the ac- 
 commodation-ladder ; and probably she would 
 even have descended the steps to meet them — 
 disarranging all the traffic — but that the third 
 
 YOL. I. H
 
 98 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 officer, who was busily engaged in getting his 
 boat-loads away, sternly refused to allow her. 
 Well, not very sternly, perhaps. The fact is, 
 it seemed to us that this young man never 
 missed an opportunity of conversing with 
 Peggy ; and even now, while he was occupied 
 in packing off the passengers, he found quite 
 enough time to chat with her. No, not at all 
 sternly ; for more than one waltz had she 
 given him on those marvellous moonlit nights 
 off the coast of Portugal, and many another 
 he might reasonably hope to secure before we 
 saw English land again. In truth it was 
 simply to talk to her that he detained her 
 at the top of the ladder. 
 
 At last the way was clear ; and here was 
 the Baby — blushing furiously at the amount 
 of attention bestowed on her — ascending the 
 steps. And it was not until the two sisters 
 had got through a considerable amount of 
 hugging, and kissing, and laughing, and 
 questioning, that we had a chance of seeing
 
 AN INTRODUCTION. 99 
 
 what " my sister Emily " was like. She was 
 brought forward to us — and her friends ac- 
 companied her. Well, she was no rival to 
 our peerless and incomparable Peggy ; that 
 was not to be expected ; but she was a 
 good-looking lass none the less — ingenuous 
 of aspect, and grave — timid also, though that 
 may have been because of her suddenly 
 finding herself among strangers. She was 
 not so fair as Peggy ; nor so slender either ; 
 she promised to be of the Amazon type ; but 
 yet there was something very winning about 
 her shy ways, and her self-consciousness, and 
 her modest desire to please. As for Peggy, 
 she made no concealment as to the alteration 
 in her own life likely to be caused by the 
 arrival of this serious-eyed young maid ; with 
 a sigh of regret she relinquished her past 
 privileges and freedom from restraint ; there 
 would be no more fun for her now, she said, 
 since the Baby had come on board. 
 
 Well, we lazy folk did not care to go ashore
 
 ioo » WOLFENBERG. 
 
 this afternoon ; Amelie Dumaresq had for once 
 persuaded her mother to bestir herself; and 
 those two and Wolfenberg — the faithful 
 Wolfenberg — went away by themselves. The 
 good friends with whom the Baby had been 
 travelling were much interested in the ship ; 
 they spent a considerable time in exploring 
 it ; and in the end they were easily persuaded 
 to stay to dinner. And on this evening 
 it must be admitted that Palermo retrieved 
 itself; it cast aside that look of a sad and 
 bad and mad chromo-lithograph ; it assumed 
 dignity when the arid hills grew dark and 
 solemn against the westering glow, and the 
 lighthouses began to send their steady rays 
 through the gathering dusk. Mystery — 
 sentiment — the subtle, elusive, imaginative 
 quality in landscape that is unapproachable 
 by inferior or mechanical art — was now in 
 the air, as " the sun sank, and all the ways 
 were overshadowed/' Then minute points of 
 fire began to appear here and there in the
 
 AN INTRODUCTION. 101 
 
 town like goldeu glowworms. And these 
 again, as the night fell, were outshone by 
 others of a very different colour, the blue- 
 white radiant stars of the electric lamps along 
 the esplanade, that sent long, quivering reflec- 
 tions down on the smooth-heaving black water 
 between us and the shore. Palermo was now 
 brilliantly illuminated — a blaze of splendour ; 
 for there was a public festa in the gardens 
 of the Villa Giulia, and that also helped. 
 The whole dark surface of the sea was 
 dancing and glittering with those w r ill-o'-the- 
 wisps of imaged lights. 
 
 Our new friends stayed late, chatting on 
 deck ; but when at length they decided to go, 
 we took them along to the top of the ac- 
 commodation-ladder, so that they should have 
 the first chance of a boat returning to the 
 shore. And just as we reached the gangway, 
 who should appear but the Dumaresqs, mother 
 and daughter, Amelie Dumaresq being in a 
 very gay and laughing and vivacious mood.
 
 102 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 But it was not Wolfenberg alone who was 
 their escort : the dull, orange-hued glow of 
 the lamp showed us that there were two 
 gentlemen following them upwards from that 
 black gulf of water. And the fourth member 
 of the party turned out to be Paul Hitrovo : 
 we learned that he had been so kind as to 
 accompany the two ladies, along with Wolfen- 
 berg, to the festival in the gardens of the 
 Villa Giulia.
 
 ( io 3 ) 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 A HOROSCOPE. 
 
 As we make for the shore on this fair-shining 
 morning there is a heavy ground-swell running 
 in : long, smooth, unbroken, oily-green waves 
 that lift the steam-launch high in air and 
 seem to leave it suspended for a time, until 
 it glides down again, spluttering and snorting 
 and rolling, into the next great ocean- valley. 
 The boat is filled with our good Orotanians ; 
 and there is quite a blaze of white costumes ; 
 for the sun promises to be fierce. Some, whom 
 we hardly envy, are about to ride away up to 
 the top of Monte Pellegrino — the vast brovfn 
 slope beyond the bay is already shimmering 
 in the heat ; others, of more modest ambition, 
 mean simply to wander about the shady
 
 104 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 thoroughfares of the city, studying the remains 
 of Moorish architecture ; as for our small party, 
 we are bent on a pious pilgrimage to the 
 distant Monreale among the hills. And who 
 so proud as the Major on this auspicious 
 morning — the Major, to whom we have handed 
 over Lady Cameron and her sister ? For 
 what with the advent of the Baby, and what 
 with Mrs. Duniaresq having again consigned 
 her daughter to our care, it is obvious that 
 we shall have to separate into two carriages 
 as soon as we reach the shore ; and who so 
 competent to take command of one of these 
 as our gallant if elderly soldier ? Joyful, 
 indeed, is the Major, and assiduous ; Peggy 
 looks demure, taking care not to meet the 
 grave glances of her friends ; while the Baby, 
 serious, unconscious, regards in an impressed 
 kind of way the great panoramic town and 
 its background of mountains. Mrs. Three- 
 penny*bit has declared herself quite charmed 
 with the Baby, Her ingenuousness, she
 
 A HOROSCOPE. 105 
 
 affirms, is as sweet and fresh and wholesome 
 as the flowers in a cottage garden. There 
 are no underhand ways about her. Her eyes 
 never say two things at once. She wouldn't 
 sit in corners, and speak low, and ignore a 
 whole room-full of people for the sake of one. 
 And so forth. It is curious to notice how 
 envy crops up on the most unexpected 
 occasions. 
 
 But, as it chanced, a sad fate befell the 
 Major after all. On landing at the mole, we 
 found ourselves surrounded by a wildly- 
 gesticulatory crowd of drivers and would-be 
 guides ; there was nothing for it but to push 
 through these, unheeding, and take forcible 
 possession of the nearest vehicle, Miss Dumaresq 
 being pulled in by Mrs. Threepenny-bit with 
 much adroitness. Then we turned to see how 
 the Major and his charges were getting on. 
 Well, he had secured a carriage ; and he had 
 got the two ladies safely deposited therein ; 
 and doubtless he was about to join them,
 
 106 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 when at this very moment the Passionate 
 Poetess came up, carrying Phaon in her arms. 
 The clamour of this crowd of unwashed 
 Sicilians prevented our hearing what she said ; 
 but what took place was clear enough. Sappho 
 was appealing to Lady Cameron to let her 
 have the vacant seat in the carriage ; and 
 at once Peggy — who is the soul of good 
 nature — smilingly assented ; while the Baby 
 politely changed over to the other side. Then 
 we saw the Major compelled to assist his 
 deadly enemy to her place, and not only that, 
 but he had to shove Phaon along before he 
 could himself follow. Avanti ! And when 
 Amelie Dumaresq's face appeared again from 
 behind her sunshade, she was wiping away the 
 tears from her eyes. She had been outrageously, 
 and wickedly, and cruelly laughing. 
 
 And very merry and light-hearted was she 
 as we drove away through the town and out 
 into the open and ever-ascending country. 
 Wolfenberg smiled in a calmly tolerant fashion.
 
 A HOROSCOPE. 107 
 
 It was no business of his to play the part of 
 tutor ; nay, he was always glad when he saw 
 her amused or amusing others. And yet it 
 must be said for this young lady that, however 
 careless she might seem of her surroundings, 
 there was very little escaped her sharp and 
 observant eyes. She might be laughing and 
 telling stories of her fellow- students at the 
 Atelier Didron; but her glance took note of 
 one object after another — a Moorish-looking 
 building, a gaily-decorated cart, a horse 
 staggering along under an enormous load, 
 and suffering from hideous sores (though 
 nobody is likely to miss that familiar feature 
 of a Sicilian highway). And at last she said : 
 
 " Ernest, when my little exhibition is opened 
 in London, T must send an invitation to Papa 
 Didron. Do you think he will ccme over ? 
 Well, I fear not ; he is too busy. But he 
 must know of my great importance." 
 
 " I will take care of that, Amelie," said 
 Wolfenberg, who not only invariably talked
 
 io8 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 as though this constant companionship between 
 herself and him was to last through all the 
 years of their life, but also, in this particular 
 instance, as though he were going to act the 
 part of showman for her. " I will make sure 
 of that. For one thing, I must get to know 
 the London correspondents of the Paris papers ; 
 they may be interested • they ought to notice 
 the pictures. Why, it is a piece of news. 
 And then you are a daughter of France as 
 far as art is concerned." 
 
 " Oh, listen to him ! " she said to Mrs. 
 Threepenny-bit, in simulated horror. 
 
 " I don't mean as regards landscape," he 
 interposed, good-naturedly. " I know your 
 heretical opinion of French landscape " 
 
 " French landscape!" she said, in open 
 disdain. " French landscape is landscape seen 
 by limelight ; all very effective, no doubt, in 
 spinach green, and cold grey, and black ; but 
 where is the luminosity, where is the sunlight, 
 where is the throbbing air? And yet how
 
 A HOROSCOPE. 109 
 
 can you wonder ? " she went on, apparently 
 for the mere amusement of the thing — for her 
 vehemence seemed a little bit assumed. 
 " What are the poor men to do ? God 
 made the world out of nothing ; but French 
 artists are not quite so clever — they can't 
 make landscapes out of those monotonous and 
 treeless wastes ; and so they construct effective 
 studies of light and shade — limelight and false 
 shade. And England is just as bad in the 
 opposite direction. England is too con- 
 ventionally picturesque. The mist gives you 
 the atmospheric values all ready-made to hand. 
 The clouds are low down, and come easily into 
 the picture ; distances are arranged for you ; 
 and then the country is all broken up with 
 hedges, and coppices, and small fields, and 
 farms — everything you could wish. Now, at 
 home — in America, I mean — you have to 
 wrestle with your subject — you have got to 
 face it — the light is clear and hard — there is 
 no compromise."
 
 no WOLFENBERG. 
 
 " There never is any compromise about you, 
 Amelie," Wolfenberg said, laughing. " But if 
 you wish to see throbbing air and luminosity, 
 just you get up in the carriage and look back." 
 
 For by this time the patient horses had 
 dragged us away up towards La Eocca ; and 
 when we rose to regard the landscape that 
 now stretched out far below us, we beheld the 
 famous Conca d'Oro, that immense and fertile 
 valley filled with the fresh deep green of 
 orange groves and lemon groves, with the 
 dusty heights of Monte Grifone rising on 
 the right, while in front, and away beyond 
 the partly-hidden city, the vast breadth of 
 pale blue sea trembled through the heat, 
 
 " I must get down," she said ; " there is 
 more freedom to look about when you are 
 walking." 
 
 And indeed our slim-built and energetic 
 Peggy had already descended from the other 
 vehicle ; and so had the Baby ; and so had 
 their gallant escort ; Sappho and the pug
 
 A HOROSCOPE. in 
 
 remaining in sole possession of the carriage. 
 And thus the re-united party went forward 
 together, leisurely climbing the white and 
 dusty road ; our goal, the Fiesole-like Mon- 
 reale, perched high on a hill, being now within 
 view. Hot it was. The Major began to 
 murmur hints about a trattore, and about a 
 bottle of something combined with seltzer. 
 The arid rock by the wayside had been hewn 
 into small terraces by the cactus-growers ; and 
 the prickly pears had borrowed a charming 
 tinore of colour from the sun : but the one or 
 two we tried afforded us no kind of satisfaction. 
 The only cool thing visible was the fresh green 
 of the great valley : it was pleasant to let the 
 eyes wander down towards those far- stretching, 
 dense, luxuriant orange groves. 
 
 "When at length we had toiled up to the 
 queer, deserted-looking little town, we made 
 straight for the Duomo, which, in truth, was 
 the only thing we had come to see. But on 
 entering the square, we perceived that we were
 
 ii2 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 not the first of the Orotanians : Paul Hitrovo 
 and a companion, whose acquaintance- he had 
 made on board, were standing on the pave- 
 ment just outside the Cathedral, the former 
 smoking a cigarette. 
 
 " Well, that is a surprise ! — I wonder if he 
 has sat up all night ? " said Mrs. Threepenny- 
 bit, who had never been too favourably disposed 
 towards this young man, despite his achieve- 
 ment of fascinating the small Algerian. 
 " Major," she continued in an undertone, 
 " everybody gets to hear everything about 
 everybody else on board ship. Who is that 
 Mr. Hitrovo \ " 
 
 " Gad, I don't know," said the Major, con- 
 tentedly. " You'd better ask the young 
 ladies : they seem mostly interested in him." 
 
 "The common gossip," put in Wolfenberg, 
 with a certain quiet indifference, " is that he 
 is of a very good Eussian family. Lives in 
 Vienna, mostly; and belongs to the sporting 
 circles there. He told me himself that he
 
 A HOROSCOPE. 113 
 
 had won the Prix cle Consolation at Monte 
 Carlo last year — pigeon-shooting." 
 
 "But what could have induced him to take 
 a voyage like this — without knowing a single 
 soul on board, apparently ? " she demanded 
 
 again. 
 
 "That I cannot say," he made answer. 
 " Sheer idleness comes as a relief sometimes — 
 but not often to one of his age." 
 
 As they spoke, Amelie Dumaresq had 
 glanced from the one to the other, quickly and 
 furtively ,* but she said no word ; indeed she 
 could not ; for now we were approaching the 
 great doors of the Cathedral, and here were 
 Hitrovo and his fellow Orotanian raising their 
 hats as the ladies went by. The next moment 
 we were in a still and hushed twilight, with 
 a soft sound of shuffling footsteps audible in 
 the motionless air. 
 
 And presently we also were prowling about 
 in this stealthy and silent fashion, regarding 
 the massive columns and porphyry pillars, the 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 H4 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 bronze doors, the arabesques, the Biblical 
 stories writ large in mosaic, the dull golden 
 glow of the roof. But in walking about in 
 this fashion, little groups get separated, com- 
 mingle, separate again, so that the presence or 
 absence of any one person is hardly noticed. 
 Thus it was that when we came to leave the 
 building, we discovered that Amelie Dumaresq 
 was not with us : even Wolfenberg had not 
 observed her withdrawal — he had been so 
 much interested in this architectural treasure- 
 house. 
 
 But almost directly we discovered whither 
 she had gone. She was standing just outside 
 the door of the Cathedral, sketch-book in hand, 
 making a study, or pretending to do so, of a 
 withered little old man who was sweeping the 
 pavement. She was not alone. Paul Hitrovo 
 was standing by her, not overlooking her work, 
 but talking to her, while there was some 
 amusement visible in her face. They formed 
 quite a charming group, those two young
 
 A HOROSCOPE. 115 
 
 people : he, slender and elegant, with a certain 
 careless grace of attitude and manner, perhaps 
 a little conscious of his good looks — of his soft 
 and silken brown hair, his small and neatly- 
 w r axed moustache, and his extraordinary blue- 
 grey eyes ; she, of a more southern type, the 
 long black lashes downcast as her glance came 
 back from her model to her book, her manner 
 almost shy, the exquisitely-formed lips smiling 
 a little, her ungloved hands, small and plump 
 and warm and white, looking somehow as if, 
 were you to touch them, there would be a 
 sudden shock, so full of vitality they seemed. 
 She was not working very industriously ; she 
 was listening, rather ; and she was pleased and 
 amused. A very pretty group indeed they 
 formed — in the cool shadow of the Cathedral, 
 with the sunlit square beyond. 
 
 Wolfenberg hung back, as though he would 
 rather not interrupt her ; but the rattling 
 forward of our carriage attracted her attention, 
 and at the same time she became aware that
 
 n6 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 we were awaiting her good pleasure. She 
 snapped the book to at once. 
 
 "Well," said she, brightly, as she took 
 her place in the carriage, " have you all of 
 you worshipped sufficiently at the shrine of 
 St. Gew-Gaw ? " 
 
 " I feared you would not be impressed, 
 Amelie," Wolfenberg said, as we drove away : 
 the young Eussian stood looking after us for 
 a moment or two, then he turned to his 
 companion : they seemed in no hurry to leave 
 this little town on the top of the hill. 
 
 " Impressed ? " Miss Dumaresq said, almost 
 petulantly. " I was glad to get out into the 
 honest daylight. I cannot understand making 
 a place of worship a show-house, and imposing 
 on you with sham decoration. Now when 
 you go into a Gothic cathedral like Strassburg 
 or Cologne, you feel at once that there is 
 something about it noble, and simple, and 
 solemn, and reticent ; but all that rococo 
 Byzantine splendour — and the tawdry magni-
 
 A HOROSCOPE, 117 
 
 ficence of the Eenaissance churches — is to 
 me insufferably sickening. Then if you come 
 to those crude, stupid pictures in mosaic : I 
 dare say they may be historically interesting ; 
 but you know very well, Ernest, that as 
 Art they are mere monstrosities. But, above 
 all, I hate to be treated like a child — I hate 
 
 to be cheated " 
 
 Wolfenberg (who seemed to have been a 
 little serious as we came away from the 
 Cathedral) now turned to the small woman 
 who was in charge of us all ; and there was 
 a grave and good-humoured smile on his 
 face. 
 
 "Won't you interpose ? " he said. "There 
 is one point on which Amelie and I never 
 agree : and I can see she is coming to it. 
 I think St. Mark's at Venice the most 
 beautiful thing in the world. She thinks — 
 what do you think, Amelie ? " 
 
 Well, Miss Iconoclast had the courage of 
 her convictions.
 
 irS WOLFENBERG. 
 
 " St. Mark's in Venice/' said she, calmly. 
 4 'Mr. Wolfenberg knows what I think of it. 
 It seems to me nothing but an enormous 
 sham — a pretence — pretty enough no doubt, 
 but a gigantic mass of deception. There is 
 not an ounce of solid reverent work in the 
 whole place ; it is all veneer ; it pretends to 
 be a marble building, whereas it is in reality 
 a brick building faced with marble ; and now 
 that the thin slices are beginning to crack 
 and fall off, the truth is being revealed. 
 Trickery," she went on, more vehemently, 
 " is bad enough everywhere ; but in a temple 
 it is particularly out of place. I don't wonder 
 there are winking Virgins when the church 
 is turned into a theatre to deceive people." 
 But here she suddenly stopped, with a very 
 pretty, and childish, and shamefaced little 
 laugh. "Ernest," she said, affecting to be 
 angry, "why did you lead me on to speak 
 of St, Mark's at Venice \ " 
 
 "Why?" he answered her, with his usual
 
 A HOROSCOPE. 119 
 
 gentleness and indulgence. " Because our 
 friends here must have learned by this time 
 that ordinarily and almost always you have 
 a singularly accurate and unbiassed mind, 
 with clear perception, and frank judgment ; 
 and I wished them to see that all the same 
 you could be as wildly unreasonable and 
 prejudiced as any woman that ever breathed. 
 I wanted to show that you were human, 
 Amelia" 
 
 " Ah, you say that because you cannot 
 defend veneer," she retorted, but she was 
 laughing now, and in a fine good humour, 
 and happy with herself and her surround ings. 
 " That is your only answer. Well, we must 
 agree to differ. And as St. Mark's is all 
 tumbling into the mud, it's of very little 
 consequence." 
 
 Then we drove away down into the valley, 
 and through abundant orange groves, until 
 we reached the gates leading to the Villa 
 Tasca ; and there, leaving both carriages
 
 i2o WOLFENBERG. 
 
 without, we entered the spacious grounds 
 that, in the absence of the beneficent pro- 
 prietor, are thrown open to the public. And 
 here, amid all the luxuriance of tropical 
 foliage, amid the bewildering masses of 
 colour, and the statues, and miniature lakes 
 and fountains, it was quite delightful to see 
 how the nature of this child of the south 
 seemed to expand, as she drank in the hot, 
 spice-perfumed air. She was talking to every 
 one at once ; she was trying to catch the swift- 
 darting lizards ; she uttered little exclamations 
 of joyous surprise when opening vistas revealed 
 still further splendours of deep rose-red or 
 flaming scarlet. Peggy, on the other hand, 
 walked sedate and observant, listening civilly 
 and sweetly to the ever-attentive Major. The 
 tall, Juno-eyed Baby looked so grave and 
 majestic that we were almost ashamed of 
 ourselves for heeding these idle things of 
 the hour. There appeared to be no other 
 visitors in these beautiful gardens. Sappho
 
 A HOROSCOPE. 121 
 
 and her pug had stayed iri the carriage ; 
 she preferred to await us there ; and we 
 had only to recall the derivation of the word 
 cynosure to determine what occupied her un- 
 divided and admiring regard. 
 
 When we got back to the town, it seemed 
 to be the universal wish of the women-folk 
 to remain loitering about the sultry streets, 
 for the reason that it would be some time 
 before they got another opportunity of shop- 
 ping ; so — being of no manner of use to them, 
 but rather in the way, indeed — we left them, 
 under charge of the Major ; and returned 
 to the ship, and to the welcome shade of 
 the awning. And thus it was that one 
 happened to obtain a fuller knowledge of 
 the peculiar relations that existed between 
 Wolfenberg and Amelie Dumaresq ; for here, 
 on the deck of the deserted vessel, there was 
 silence and privacy ; and then, so careful 
 was he of the smallest things that might 
 affect her in the estimation of others, he
 
 122 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 seemed to fancy that some kind of apology 
 was needful for her harsh treatment of St. 
 Mark's. 
 
 " Downright honesty is her constant aim," 
 he said, in his absent way, as if he were 
 contemplating some creature of his imagina- 
 tion, before actually fixing it down with 
 strokes of carbon. " She scorns pretence of 
 any kind ; and she has the courage to say 
 what she thinks. ... I suppose some people 
 might find her character repellent. To me 
 it is most attractive. But even if they found 
 her repellent, they could not say she was 
 'tin interesting. She is too much of a living 
 and breathing human being for that ; she 
 shows you too much of her personality ; she 
 may startle you and offend you, but at least 
 you must be interested in her. . . ." 
 
 There was no response. Perhaps he did 
 not expect any. At all events, he continued 
 in the same preoccupied way, almost as if he 
 were talking to himself :
 
 A HOROSCOPE, 123 
 
 " Her mind is downright, accurate, uncom- . 
 promising ; she cannot tolerate illusions. And 
 that is why I sometimes think it is impossible 
 she can ever become possessed by the greatest 
 and most terrible of all illusions — the idealism 
 of love. I do not think that will ever happen 
 to her. She sees too clearly. . . . She would 
 probably despise that idealisation and treat it 
 as mere sentiment. . . . And there again she 
 would be wrong. It is a tremendous force ; 
 the most powerful thing in the world — and 
 the most destructive. The delirium of love : 
 it is as intangible as frost ; but it can do 
 more than merely split up rocks and cliffs : 
 it has split up empires — and ruined millions 
 of men's lives. . . . Some people seem even 
 to doubt its existence. . . . Exists ? You 
 may be sure that Mother Nature takes care 
 that it exists. She is cunning enough for 
 that. Why does she give a crimson tinge 
 to the rose-petal ? Why does she fill a young 
 man's head with ideals of maidenly beauty
 
 124 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 and perfection, and persuade him that a 
 rather commonplace young woman entirely 
 corresponds to these, or even exceeds, them ? 
 ... Of course he finds out in time. The 
 wonderful angel is revealed to him as an 
 ordinary creature of clay. But meanwhile 
 Mother Nature has got her part done ; she 
 has succeeded in her aim : the race is 
 perpetuated. Whatever tragedy of dis- 
 enchantment or repulsion may follow is no 
 business of hers." 
 
 And here again one could say nothing, 
 knowing the dark background there was to 
 this man's life. 
 
 " No," he continued, " I do not think that 
 Amelie Dumaresq could ever become the 
 slave of a great passion. Her intelligence 
 is too penetrating. Her mind is acute, 
 accurate, observant " 
 
 " She is a woman." 
 
 " She is an artist. That way lies her 
 ambition. Her interests are centred there.
 
 A HOROSCOPE. 125 
 
 Her plans of life have already been formed, 
 and not without sufficient and earnest study. 
 . . . Sometimes, indeed, I think you do not 
 understand her yet. Probably you do not ; it 
 is hardly to be expected. You see her merry, 
 laughing, childish, pleased with trifles. And 
 that is all honest, mind you, absolutely 
 honest : it is simply that she so completely 
 and wholly enjoys every moment of living : 
 to breathe the air — to look at a flower — to 
 listen to a waltz — everything has a fascination 
 for her. But that is only on the surface. 
 Her nature is deeper and stronger than that. 
 She is an artist ; she has serious aims ; this 
 butterfly existence is pretty enough — and I 
 for one am delighted to look on when she 
 is in her gayest and most frivolous moods ; 
 but that is not Amelie Dumaresq. Her 
 mother could tell you differently. Her 
 mother could tell you of this girl sitting up 
 till four in the morning, in the dead of 
 winter, in front of a fire that had o;one out
 
 126 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 dreaming and thinking of her work, her 
 fingers almost frozen to the crayon, and yet 
 hardly more than a suggestion or two put 
 down on paper. For you must understand 
 this : she is capable of idealisation ; only it 
 is not the idealisation that would bewilder 
 her senses and blind her in her choice of a 
 husband, should such a thing ever happen, as 
 I think it will not ; it is the idealisation that 
 lends charm to the commonest objects she 
 finds suited to her art. And it comes back 
 to that : she has chosen her path in life, 
 and nature has given her the means to follow 
 it. Amelie Dumaresq is an artist — au bout 
 des ongles!' 
 
 This he said, and a great deal more to the 
 same effect, as he paced up and down the 
 deck, sometimes looking across the water to 
 the great bulk of Monte Pellegrino, that was 
 now growing sombre in the warm evening 
 light. And one could not avoid the suspicion 
 that in these disjointed sentences — more dis-
 
 A HOROSCOPE. 127 
 
 jointed than they are set down here — he was 
 covertly seeking to persuade himself. His 
 study of this girl's nature and character was, 
 no doubt, the result of long observation ; and 
 he had got the outlines firm enough ; only he 
 seemed anxious to convince you — or to con- 
 vince himself — that there could be nothing 
 beyond and behind, that there were no other 
 contingencies to be reckoned with. She was 
 heart and soul an artist. She had with 
 deliberation and foresight chosen her way 
 of life. Her clear intellect, her uncompro- 
 mising quest of truth, her scorn of unreality, 
 were all safeguards against the illusions which 
 might come in to disturb or destroy a woman's 
 existence. He had forced himself to mention 
 the possibility of her marriage, but only to 
 dismiss it as unworthy of consideration. 
 Amelie Dumaresq's position was defined ; he 
 knew her, and could answer for her inmost 
 thoughts ; her future he and she had planned 
 together.
 
 128 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 The evening waned, and still these women 
 did not return. The vast amphitheatre of 
 hills grew to be of a soft, deep rose-purple 
 under the pale lemon-hued sky ; and in the 
 cool, grey twilight of the town one or two 
 golden points had appeared just above the 
 darkening sea. What had come over them ? 
 Mrs. Dumaresq was restless, and perturbed, 
 and fretful. Not that she was apprehensive 
 about her daughter's safety, but that it was 
 close on the dinner-hour, and Amelie would 
 not have time to change her dress. 
 
 " Come, let us go ashore and discover what 
 has happened," Wolfe nberg said. 
 
 But even as he spoke the steam-launch was 
 seen to come round the point of the distant 
 breakwater ; and presently we could make out, 
 even in this gathering dusk, that there were 
 light-hued costumes on board. Nay, before 
 the boat came alongside, it looked as though 
 these people had armed themselves for some 
 Bataille des Fleurs on the morrow, such a
 
 A HOROSCOPE. 129 
 
 profusion of bouquets and baskets of flowers 
 had they amongst them. Nor were they 
 without abundant escort ; for, besides the 
 Major, they appeared to have picked up Paul 
 Hitrovo and his companion ; and the three 
 gentlemen were all equally zealous in handing 
 and carrying parcels and packages, while the 
 women-folk managed their enormous bouquets 
 as best they could. 
 
 Amelie Dumaresq was the first to arrive at 
 the top of the gangway — breathless, laughing, 
 her lips parted, her black eyes bright with 
 excitement and pleasure. 
 
 " Oh, Ernest, how lazy of you ! " she ex- 
 claimed. " Why, we have been everywhere, 
 and seen everything ! " Then she turned to 
 her neighbour, who was the young Russian. 
 " Here, Mr. Hitrovo, will you please take these 
 flowers down to the saloon, and ask a steward 
 to get some water for them, and put them on 
 our table ? Oh, thank you ! " 
 
 She took from him the parcels he had been 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 holding for her ; and the dinner bell had 
 already begun to tinkle in the forward part 
 of the ship when she hurried away to make 
 some hasty alterations in her attire.
 
 ( i3i ) 
 
 CHAPTEK VI. 
 
 "VIX E CONSPECTU SICUL^E TELLURIS." 
 
 The new day has not yet come ; nevertheless 
 we seem to have emerged from the night — it 
 lies behind us low and sullen along the west ; 
 while the great ship labouring onwards through 
 this mysterious twilight has over its foretop- 
 mast the silver crescent of the moon, as if we 
 were bearing with us, into the East, the symbol 
 of the East. In the north are the iEolian 
 islands, Volcano, Lipari, and their lonely neigh- 
 bours ; but they also are dark and over- 
 shadowed ; Vulcan and his Cyclopes have not 
 yet lit their forges ; from those distant 
 conical peaks arises no wavering tongue of 
 pink, no column of lurid smoke. But all the 
 same light is coming : the never-failing, never-
 
 132 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 familiar wonders of the dawn are near. As 
 one regards this livid and slaty-black sea, here 
 and there a liquid crest is touched with a dull 
 saffron ; ahead of us the dim coast-line — a 
 mere film of land along the horizon — gradually 
 becomes of a transparent olive-green ; and 
 above that again the sky is a glow of ruddy 
 gold that is rendered all the more intense by 
 one long, far- stretching cloud of the deepest 
 and softest violet, its warm, rich tones of an in- 
 describable beauty. The over-arching heavens 
 are now of a lambent, tremulous silver-grey : 
 the sickle of the moon still reigns placidly 
 there. Swiftly and silently the morning 
 splendour spreads and grows ; the great violet 
 cloud has turned to an exquisite rose-purple, 
 with fringes of crimson fire ; then, of a sudden, 
 over the rim of the land, appears the blinding 
 edge of the sun ; a shiver of light seems to 
 spring through the sleeping world ; and as one 
 turns to see what bewildering miracle has been 
 wrought, behold ! far away over there in the
 
 " VIX E CONS PEC TU SICULM TELLURIS" 133 
 
 south the pale snows of Etna have already- 
 answered to the flame. 
 
 And here, up at the bow of the vessel, a group 
 
 of early risers have clustered together, some 
 
 idly chattering, others gazing abroad on the 
 
 new world of sea and sky and ever-approaching 
 
 land. Wolfenberg stands somewhat apart, 
 
 silent and alone, apparently plunged in a 
 
 profound reverie. Amelie Dumaresq, with 
 
 her laughing and lustrous black eyes full of 
 
 interest, is listening to the tall young Russian, 
 
 who, in his turn, seems trying, lazily and 
 
 smilingly, to amuse her. The rotund and 
 
 roseate Major has got hold of a plateful of 
 
 biscuits, and is bustling about with these, 
 
 perhaps unconsciously selecting the prettiest 
 
 of the young women for his favours. But 
 
 who is it who forms the principal, the most 
 
 attractive feature of this miscellaneous throng 
 
 — who but our shining- eyed, and peerless, and 
 
 radiant Peggy ? As usual, Peggy has climbed 
 
 to a commanding post ; her outstretched right
 
 134 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 arm, holding on to the foretopmast-stay, reveals 
 to fine advantage her slender and elegant 
 figure ; the simple, tight-fitting grey dress 
 looks well against the pale blue of the sky ; 
 she has no covering on her head, so that the 
 sunlight makes a wonder of her neatly-plaited, 
 light-brown hair. And as for her face ? — well, 
 she appears to be entirely happy and content 
 with herself, as if she were ready to smile if 
 her regard met any one ; but she is not heeding 
 those around her ; she is looking away across 
 the flashing and surging waves to the trans- 
 parent line of coast. Many and many a ship, 
 in all ages of the world, has sailed these well- 
 known waters, but never one of them with 
 such a glorified figure at the prow. 
 
 And was not this a grand and notable day 
 for the Passionate Poetess ? She was so 
 breathlessly excited, so busy with her dog's- 
 eared translations and her Lempriere, that she 
 had not yet found time to pay her morning 
 call on the butcher, to fetch her beloved
 
 " VIX E CONSPECTU SICUL/E TELLURIS" 135 
 
 Phaon. For were not these now receding 
 peaks the mysterious abode of the Ruler of the 
 Winds? She had got hold of the hie vasto 
 rex, JEolus antra passage ; and as she marched 
 up and down the deck, we could hear her 
 repeating to herself some high-sounding line — 
 
 Luctantes ventos, tempestatesque sonoras, 
 or 
 
 Illi indignantes magno cum murmure montis, 
 
 or the like. And was she not following in 
 the wake of her favourite Ulysses ? Ahead 
 of us were Scylla and Charybdis, and Cape 
 Pelorum, and the famous Straits along which 
 every hamlet and town and river recalls 
 some old-world legend or some tragic historical 
 event. At the same time it was not all joy 
 for Sappho. The discrepancies she found in 
 those various authors, even in such minor 
 matters as spelling, chafed her spirit ; and 
 her indignant protests, accompanied even by 
 a little show of ill-temper, were addressed 
 indiscriminately to any one who would listen
 
 136 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 — even to the Major, poor man, who solemnly- 
 assured her that he had not construed a 
 single verse of Greek or Latin since he left 
 school. 
 
 " It's their horrible inconsistencies ! " she 
 exclaimed ; and at times she appeared almost 
 ready to take refuge in tears. " One book 
 tells you that the Cyclopes lived on the 
 coast of Libya, and another says the west 
 of Sicily, and another under Mount Etna. 
 As for the island of the Sirens, they seem 
 to put it just wherever they like ; but I 
 suppose it really must have been over by 
 Cape Pelorus, since Ulysses, after getting 
 past it, came immediately on Scylla and 
 Charubdis. Scylla and Charybdis ! " she 
 went on, bitterly, for here was another 
 grievance. " Oh, no, not at all — not at all ! 
 Skulle and Charubdis ! Skulle ! what is the 
 use of such tomfoolery ! And Kirke, and 
 Kalupso, and the Kuklopes ! And I'd like 
 to know how they ever got Odysseus changed
 
 " VI X E CONSPECTU SICULAL TELLURIS? 137 
 
 into Ulysses ; and more than that, when they 
 had got it changed, and accepted by all the 
 world, what good is there in going back, 
 not to Odysseus, but to Odusseus ? It is 
 such preposterous folly ! " 
 
 Yet worse, far worse, remained behind : 
 something calculated to strike dismay into 
 the stoutest heart. For at this moment the 
 Baby came up, carrying a binocular glass in 
 her hand ; and, with shy good-nature, she 
 said 
 
 " Would you like my glass, Miss Penguin ? 
 They say that rock over there is Scylla." 
 
 " Scylla ? " said Sappho, with something 
 of a start — for indeed the tall grey rock was 
 visible to the naked eye. " That Scylla ? 
 There must be some mistake ! For in the 
 Odyssey it says that the rock reaches to the 
 heavens, and has perpetual clouds on the top 
 of it. And— and Charybdis ? " 
 
 Instinctively she turned to look at ' the 
 other shore — perhaps with a dreadful doubt
 
 138 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 possessing her. Well, what she saw was 
 simply this : a breadth of calm blue sea, 
 shimmering in the sunlight, with the slightest 
 of ripples ; and beyond that a very pleasant 
 and smiling coast-line, with strips of yellow- 
 grey villages, and over these a series of 
 vineyard- terraced hills. But as for Scylla 
 the awful monster ? — and divine Charybdis 
 sucking in black water thrice a day, and 
 sending it out again, and defying even the 
 dread might of Poseidon ? Sappho was 
 silent : she would not confess to the terrible 
 fear that she had been beguiled. And when 
 one pointed out to her that in stormy weather 
 the narrow entrance into these Straits of 
 Messina might be quite dangerous enough 
 for any small sailing vessel, she still remained 
 silent. And then she went away to ask for 
 Phaon. 
 
 However, any doubts about the literal 
 trustworthiness of Homer that might have 
 clouded her mind for a moment would seem
 
 " VIX E CONSPECTU SICUL^E TELLURIS" 139 
 
 to have been soon forgotten ; for some little 
 time thereafter Peggy came along in a very 
 secret and solemn manner, and intimated 
 that she had a matter of importance to 
 communicate. 
 
 " It's a poem," said Peggy. 
 
 " What about ? " 
 
 " Ulysses passing the island of the Sirens. 
 Oh, I assure you it is tremendous. Do you 
 know what Sappho herself says ? — she says 
 ' Fling a few burning words into the air : 
 they are more than all the philosophies : 
 they will sound in the hearts of men through 
 the ages/ " 
 
 " Has she flung them ? " 
 
 " I have them in my pocket." 
 
 " Let me see them ! " 
 
 But here Peggy hesitates, and looks round. 
 
 "The Baby is over there," she says, with 
 an uneasy glance, " and she always insists 
 that it is very wrong to have secrets. It is 
 undignified. If she saw me handing you
 
 Ho WOLFENBERG. 
 
 this paper, and waiting for you to read it, 
 she would be shocked. That's what it is 
 to have a severe and superior being for a 
 sister — even though she's not long out of 
 school " 
 
 " Oh, nonsense " 
 
 " I'll tell you what I will do ; I will get 
 an envelope, and enclose the poem, and leave 
 it for you in the Purser's office : then you 
 can go for it and read the verses at your 
 leisure." 
 
 " Sweet simplicity — that would be a pretty 
 stratagem for the Baby to discover ! What ? 
 — is your guilty soul so sensitive that you 
 cannot take a bit of poetry out of your pocket 
 and show it in open daylight ! What have 
 you been doing ? Have you been bewildering 
 the Major?" 
 
 "Oh, let the Major alone — as I do ! " she 
 says. " Suppose we go and sit down by the 
 wheel-box: then you need not be interrupted." 
 
 And thus it is that one becomes possessed,
 
 " VIX E CONSPECTU S/CULsE TELLURIS." \\\ 
 
 temporarily, of the following burning words 
 — which are hereby flung into the air. 
 Whether they will sound through the ages 
 it is obviously not for the present transitory 
 race of men to determine/ — 
 
 Brothers, I hear the Siren sing, 
 
 Where by Pelorus the white waves spring : 
 
 My pulses raven, my senses swirl — 
 
 could I clutch thee, goddess or girl ! 
 
 Unbind me, ye fools, that made me fast, 
 Ere with my sinews I break the mast ! 
 Astarte, Astarte, grant me breath ! 
 Astarte, Astarte, help or death ! 
 
 Slaves and dotards, why stand ye there t 
 The music swims through the shivering air : 
 Curses vpon ye, unbind these arms/ 
 What knoiv ye of love' s fierce hurts and harms ! 
 
 Pale Penelope, fare you well — 
 
 We meet no more upon this side Hell : 
 
 Farewell to the shining Cyclades — 
 
 1 end my life in the Sirens' seas. 
 
 Nay, loose me, ye fools, that bound me fast, 
 Ere with my sinews I break the mast ! 
 Astarte, Astarte, grant me breath ! — 
 Astarte, Astarte, love or death ! 
 
 "Well?" says Peggy.
 
 i 4 2 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 " Her geography seems a little shaky : does 
 she imagine that Ithaca is among the shining 
 Cyclades ? " 
 
 "Oh, how mean ! Now that is just like a 
 critic ! You take exception to a quite un- 
 important detail, and miss all the fiery spirit 
 of the piece itself ! " 
 
 " There is plenty of fiery spirit, no doubt : 
 double-distilled fusel-oil is a fool to it. What 
 are you going to do with the trash ? " 
 
 "Yes, I always did think men were more 
 envious than women," Peggy says, rather 
 sadly, as she takes the shred of MS., and 
 folds it up, and returns it to her pocket. 
 " Because you can't do a certain thing yourself 
 you needn't belittle it when it is done by some 
 one else. And, after all, she is only acting up 
 to her own contention — that there should be 
 more passion in modern poetry. . . . Well, 
 now, I can get away without the Baby 
 suspecting any secret confabulation. Good- 
 bye for the present."
 
 " VIX E CONSPECTU SICUL/E TELLURIS." 143 
 
 This was a pleasant morning we had for our 
 leisurely sail along the eastern coast of Sicily : 
 a Ehine-looking country, with ruddy-grey hills 
 sprinkled with green ; here and there a yellow- 
 white village extending along the shore ; an 
 occasional ruined tower perched high on a 
 pinnacle of rock, overlooking the glassy water. 
 Then as we got further to the south the vast 
 domain of Etna began to declare itself; the 
 great mountain visible from sea-base to summit ; 
 on the lower slopes innumerable houses like 
 grains of sand shining among the dark foliage 
 of the orange groves ; the higher slopes ruddy 
 and scarred ; the far-receding cone sprinkled 
 with snow. Almost too majestic a background, 
 perhaps, for the trivial human interests that 
 were being interwoven on board this ship ? 
 Yet these had to be considered ; in fact, they 
 were thrust upon us. 
 
 For, first of all, Mrs. Dumaresq, seiziug a 
 favourable opportunity, came and sat down by 
 the side of our Mrs. Threepenny-bit; and
 
 U4 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 after a little anxious beating about the bush, 
 began to speak about M. Paul Hitrovo, and 
 to ask us what we knew of him. Well, we 
 knew nothing of him, or next to nothing. 
 But this elderly woman, with the sallow face, 
 sad eyes, and braided silver- white hair, seemed 
 concerned and perturbed ; she said that every 
 one must have observed the marked attention 
 the young Russian was now paying to her 
 daughter ; and she lamented that Amelie was 
 so wilful and self-confident that it was of no 
 use to speak to her or to caution her. 
 
 " The only one she might heed would be 
 Mr. Wolfenberg," said the distressed mother. 
 " But how is it possible to speak to him about 
 so delicate a matter ? Of course he has noticed. 
 I have seen him look at them. But then he 
 is very proud ; he would not claim anything 
 on account of the great friendship that has 
 existed for so long between Amelie and himself ; 
 he would rather stand aside, and leave her to 
 do as she pleases. Of course I say nothing
 
 " VIX E CONSPECTU SICULsE TELLURIS? 145 
 
 against Mr. Hitrovo, for I know nothing ; and 
 — and they say he is very well connected ; but 
 it would be dreadful if Amelie were to get 
 herself seriously entangled, and then we were 
 to find out something against him. I don't 
 know what to do. Ernest "Wolfenberg has 
 always advised us ; but in this matter, 
 somehow, I cannot go to him — I cannot. 
 And I dare not warn Amelie ; she would 
 demand to know what ground I have for any 
 suspicions. And I have none." 
 
 " Supposing," one ventures to suggest to 
 her, " that when we get to Constantinople 
 some one could be found who might good- 
 naturedly make inquiries at the Russian 
 Embassy, would you consider that indis- 
 creet ? " 
 
 " But I am an American ; and I do not 
 know that there is an American Minister at 
 Constantinople," she said. 
 
 " In any case it might be managed through 
 the British Embassy, with a little diplomacy." 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 " I am so unwilling to do anything without 
 consulting Mr. Wolfenberg," said this poor 
 mother, who seemed to feel her own helpless- 
 ness acutely. " And yet, as I say, it is im- 
 possible to speak to him. And if Amelie knew 
 that I have even mentioned such a matter to 
 any one, she would be most indignant and 
 angry. She would say I was compromising 
 her — insulting her. Then she is so headstrong. 
 Most likely any interference would only drive 
 her in the opposite direction. Yet who can 
 avoid remarking it ? There is not a word now 
 about her painting. She seems to have for- 
 gotten entirely what she came away for. 
 Formerly, Mr. Wolfenberg and she had sub- 
 jects to speak of all clay long ; he was always 
 showing her something, teaching her something ; 
 and her great ambition when she came away 
 on this vessel was to get on with oil-colours 
 as a change from the water. But now there 
 is not a syllable about that. The Kussia.n 
 follows her like her shadow ; and I think at
 
 " VIX E CONSPECTU SICUL/E TELLURIS." 147 
 
 the same time he tantalises her with a kind of 
 indifference that she is not used to. He rather 
 patronises her in that smiling way of his, and 
 almost expects her to amuse him. Amelie 
 does not understand it ; it piques her and 
 pleases her ; it is a new sensation. So you 
 think you may find out something about him 
 at Constantinople ? " 
 
 " It is at least possible." 
 
 " Oh, thank you, thank you ! " she said, very, 
 gratefully — and she rose to go away, as if 
 fearing that the subject of this conversation 
 might be guessed at by some passer-by. 
 " And not a word to Mr. Wolfenberg, please t " 
 she added, in an earnest undertone. " It 
 would only pain him unnecessarily, and he 
 is so sensitive, especially where Amelie is 
 concerned. Well, I had hoped for other things 
 from this voyage." And the poor woman left 
 with a sigh — stealing away guiltily, as it were ; 
 though it was only a nervous apprehension and 
 anxiety about her daughter's happiness that
 
 148 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 had driven her to this timid confession and 
 appeal. 
 
 Our next experience on this eventful morn- 
 ing was of a more cheerful cast. We dis- 
 covered that we had got a stranger on board. 
 Now, when we left Tilbury the great majority 
 of the Orotanians were entirely unacquainted 
 with each other ; but this constant association, 
 day after day, had so familiarised us with each 
 other's appearance that the sudden advent of 
 an unknown person seemed a startling thing. 
 Not that there was anything alarming or 
 forbidding about the newcomer ; on the 
 contrary, his air and manner were most 
 prepossessing ; and if his costume struck us 
 as strange — it was clearly a land-travelling 
 costume — perhaps that was merely because 
 he had not yet had time to open his sea-kit. 
 He was a young fellow of about two-and- 
 twenty, quite boyish in look, fresh-com- 
 plexioned, with hardly the semblance of a 
 moustache, and with such an expression of
 
 " VIX E CONSPECTU SICUL.E TELLURIS." 149 
 
 modest ingenuousness as at once bespoke 
 favour. We first noticed him at breakfast- 
 time. Now on board the Orotania it was 
 only at dinner that fixed places were kept ; 
 at breakfast and lunch any one coming into 
 the saloon took any seat that happened to be 
 vacant, just as is done at a club. "When this 
 English-looking lad appeared at the door of 
 the saloon, he glanced round with quite a 
 pretty shyness. There did chance to be one 
 vacant chair at our table ; and it was near 
 him ; he made a faltering step towards it — 
 hesitated — seemed to be overcome with diffi- 
 dence and embarrassment — and then went on 
 in vague quest of an empty corner. The odd 
 thing was that this momentary hesitation on 
 his part seemed to have had an instant and 
 curious effect on the Baby — our serious and 
 solemn-eyed and self-possessed Baby — who 
 was now blushing furiously ; she even looked 
 frightened. Bat supposing he had actually 
 sat down at the table, what cataclysm could
 
 150 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 possibly have ensued ? On board our excellent 
 Orotania ham and eggs are free to all : to 
 each man his share, no one grudging. Nor 
 could the Baby have complained of being 
 taken unawares by a stranger ; for as to the 
 smallest details of her toilet she was always 
 and invariably diligent and scrupulous at the 
 earliest hour ; on this particular morning, long 
 before we had come to terrible Scylla and the 
 divine Charybdis, she had come up on deck 
 dressed as if for an afternoon drive. 
 - Thereafter, as we sailed along the Sicilian 
 shores, the modest youth rather kept himself 
 out of the way, though his ' landward ' costume 
 made him more or less conspicuous. He did 
 not venture to speak to any of the passengers. 
 Nor did he seem to care much about the coast 
 we were passing ; though surely such names 
 as Taormina, Aci Eeale, Catania, Mount 
 Hybla, and Megara were calculated to awaken 
 visions and dreams. And at length one or 
 two of our more curious brethren made bold
 
 " VIX E CONSPECTU SICULJE TELLURIS" 151 
 
 to go to the Purser, to demand information 
 about the mysterious newcomer. His name ? 
 That, at least, "could be ascertained — Julian 
 Verrinder. What ? — of the Verrinders of 
 Devon ? Mr. Purser was unable to say : all 
 he knew was that the young man had tele- 
 graphed from Naples to the London Office of 
 the Company to see if he could have a cabin, 
 and that he came on board the previous 
 evening, at Palermo. What further ? Why, 
 nothing. Moreover, the young man, in hold- 
 ing aloof, kept away forward by the engines, 
 walking up and down there, and seemingly 
 not disposed to enter into conversation with 
 any one. It is true that once or twice, when 
 our attention happened to be withdrawn from 
 that absorbingly interesting coast-line, it 
 seemed to one of us that the young stranger 
 sometimes threw a furtive and timid glance 
 in our direction ; but that may have been 
 mere fancy ; anyway, there was enough now 
 ahead of us to occupy our eyes.
 
 152 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 For here was a long spur of land coming 
 out into the blue sea, covered with a white, 
 flat-roofed, Eastern-looking town, and ending 
 in a battleniented fort. This was Syracuse ; 
 rather, this was Ortygia ; and the sheet of 
 smooth green water opening oat before us 
 was the Great Harbour in which Athens met 
 her doom. Now, callous as any one may be 
 about the woes of Hecuba, it is surely im- 
 possible to sail into the Bay of Syracuse 
 without recalling, with actual and vivid 
 compassion and pity, the tremendous tragedy 
 that was here enacted. Ordinary battlefields 
 are rarely impressive — are rarely intelligible. 
 Their distinctive features are soon obliterated. 
 The present writer, at all events, has never 
 been able to make even a guess at what has 
 happened on such and such a modern battle- 
 field, unless, indeed, it chanced that certain 
 heaps of dead bodies lying about, of men 
 and horses, appeared to show where a stand 
 had been made against a charge of cavalry.
 
 " VI X E CONSPECTU SICULjE TELLURIS? 153 
 
 But in the case of Syracuse and its wide 
 harbour, all the necessary points are easy of 
 identification: nay, it seems as if it might 
 have been only the other day that Etna, 
 looking down from the north, beheld the over- 
 whelming rout and slaughter of the environed 
 Greeks, and heard the wild weeping and 
 piteous exclamations of their companions 
 along the shore, who knew that for them also 
 remained nothing but the agony of a hopeless 
 flight, and capture, and death. Yonder, at 
 the other extremity of the horseshoe bay, 
 Cape Plemmyrium ; here, at this nearer point, 
 Ortygia ; stretching away upward, the heights 
 of Epipobe, where, on that ghostly moonlight 
 night, Demosthenes had almost recovered the 
 desperate fortunes of his countrymen, when 
 the very Gods seemed to intervene to drive 
 them back to destruction ; and finally, in front 
 of us, between us and the shore, the placid 
 sheet of shining green water — the scene of a 
 still more awful fig;ht — the last effort of the
 
 154 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 Athenian ships to break out of the chained 
 and stockaded bay — the death-struggle that 
 ended in the most tragic defeat, and the most 
 cruel tale of prolonged and merciless sufferiDg, 
 known to history. The tears of Hecuba were 
 shed loug ago, and do not much concern us 
 now ; but not even the most trivial and care- 
 less of travellers can sail into the harbour of 
 Syracuse without being in a measure overawed 
 by the recollection of the stupendous over- 
 throw r of the great Athenian armaments. That 
 which broke the power of Athens and ulti- 
 mately wrought her ruin cannot easily be 
 forgotten by the civilised world. 
 
 But all the same we were glad to find our 
 good, dear, impetuous Sappho in a most eager 
 and buoyant humour. She had got upon the 
 track of Ulysses at last ; indeed, she had 
 pinned him into a corner ; there was no 
 further escape for him now. Hitherto the 
 wanderings of the much-enduring hero had 
 caused her infinite perplexity, nay, had even
 
 " VIX E CONSPECTU SICUL/E TELLURIS." 155 
 
 ruffled her temper in a way we were pained 
 to witness ; while the glosses and guesses of 
 translators had only driven her to still direr 
 distraction. But now she had narrowed the 
 issues to a point ; she had Ulysses by the 
 throat, as it were. 
 
 "Look at this," said she, triumphantly, as 
 she produced one of those volumes of Bohn that 
 get so rapidly shabby on board ship. " When 
 Ulysses escapes from Scylla and Charybdis, 
 he sails along the coast of the island until 
 his companions persuade him to land ; and 
 then he says, ' "We stationed the well-made 
 ship in the hollow port, near the sweet water.' 
 Xow, that must have been Syracuse — this 
 very bay ; and as for the sweet water, ob- 
 viously it is the Fountain of Arethusa, over 
 there behind the trees. Could anything be 
 more accurate, more interesting ? Isn't it 
 strange that Homer should have known 
 about that fountain of sweet water ? " Indeed, 
 she was overjoyed by this discovery ; and
 
 1 5 6 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 went about proclaiming it ; and we were quite 
 pleased to see the venerable goddess so de- 
 lighted. 
 
 But the mention of a fountain had fallen 
 on Amelie Dumaresq's ear. She, like the rest 
 of us, was in the forward part of the vessel, 
 looking at those yellow houses and the green 
 palms and oleanders, and waiting for the roar 
 of the anchor. And she had been talking 
 to Paul Hitrovo. But on hearing something 
 said about a fountain, she turned suddenly 
 to Wolfenberg, who was standing by, a little 
 way apart. 
 
 " Ernest," said she, in accents of gay re- 
 proach, as she went over to him, " it has just 
 occurred to me : why have you told me 
 nothing further about your picture ? Have 
 you forgotten it % Have you abandoned it ? 
 All these days, and not a word ! You do 
 not mean to say that we are to have no 
 Fountain of Callirrhoe % " 
 
 The man with the pale, worn face, and the
 
 " VIX E CONSPECTU SICUL& TELLURIS." 157 
 
 pensive and absent eyes, flushed a little : 
 perhaps he did not care to have his work 
 spoken of before strangers. 
 
 " These last few days ? — I have not been 
 thinking of it," he made answer, in the gentle 
 tone he invariably adopted towards her ; but 
 at the same time he seemed rather to move 
 away somewhat ; and she, after a moment's 
 surprise, returned to her Russian friend.
 
 i 5 8 JVOLFEXBERG. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE EAR OF DIONYSIUS. 
 
 Of a sudden all this was changed. Just as 
 we were a,bout to set out for the shore, Amelie 
 Dumaresq was again consigned to our care ; 
 and as that necessitated the choice of a fourth 
 to make up our driving-party, Mrs. Three- 
 penny-bit promptly invited Wolfenberg to 
 accompany us : she would have no Russian 
 hanging about, with dangerous complications 
 in the background. And so far from Amelie 
 Dumaresq resenting this arrangement, she 
 seemed to welcome it ; and no sooner had we 
 landed from the steam-launch, and got our- 
 selves into the ramshackle vehicle that was 
 to drive us round the environs of Syracuse, 
 than it became obvious she was bent on
 
 THE EAR OF DIONYSIUS. 159 
 
 pleasing and captivating all her companions, 
 but especially Ernest Wolfenberg. Perhaps 
 she was secretly conscious that she had of 
 late neglected him ; perhaps she had noticed 
 him standing about the deck very much by 
 himself; perhaps she had remarked that his 
 stern, grave face appeared to be graver, his 
 dreamy eyes more absent and wistful than 
 was their wont. At all events, it looked as 
 though she was now determined to make 
 ample atonement. As we drove away from 
 this sweltering harbour she was in the gayest 
 and friendliest of good-humours. Her own 
 content and gladness seemed to radiate from 
 her ; the clear Sicilian atmosphere lent ani- 
 mation to the pale olive hue of her satin -soft 
 cheek ; her liquid black eyes (as black as 
 her magnificent blue-black hair) danced in 
 audacious merriment ; when that rosebud 
 of a mouth smiled, even in wicked satire, it 
 was difficult to deny sympathetic acquiescence. 
 Moreover, she was merciful to us on this
 
 160 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 occasion. She did not frighten us out of 
 our wits with startling paradoxes or ruthless 
 iconoclasm. For her, she was quite moder- 
 ately wilful, and petulant, and self-assertive. 
 And when she spoke to Wolfenberg it was 
 with a gentleness, and consideration, and 
 even a subtle and insidious flattery that 
 entirely merited approval. 
 
 And as for him ? Well, it was in its way 
 pathetic to see this man — so immeasurably her 
 superior in intellectual and artistic endow- 
 ments ; so immeasurably her superior, also, 
 in qualities of character — it was almost 
 pathetic to see how grateful he was to her 
 for this kindness and attention to him. Not 
 that he betrayed his gratitude in any senti- 
 mental fashion ; on the contrary, he kept 
 laughing at her perversities and vagaries, 
 and kept interposing here and v there to make 
 little explanations or apologies for her. Some- 
 times, indeed, a certain callousness on her 
 part appeared to grate against his finer sense ;
 
 THE EAR OF DIONYSIUS. 161 
 
 but all the same he would defend her, or 
 perhaps remonstrate with her in the most 
 delicate fashion. For example, she was mak- 
 ing merry, making rather maliciously merry, 
 over our good, dear Sappho — over her appear- 
 ance, her dress, her pug, her passionate poetry, 
 her Lempriere erudition, and what not ; and 
 she went on to declare that on this very 
 morning she had heard Miss Penguin express 
 the wish that she might get back from the 
 fort of Eury'alus in time to take a boat 
 and go up the An'apus in order to get some 
 leaves of the pap'yrus. All through this 
 Wolfenberg had looked rather uncomfortable. 
 For if a woman has sandy hair, how can she 
 help it? And a heavy and lethargic face 
 may accompany a brilliant and penetrative 
 mind. A dowdy dress does not necessarily 
 indicate a cruel or envious disposition. As 
 for errors in accentuation — 
 
 "Don't you think, Amelie," said Wolfenberg 
 in his timidly suggestive way, " that where 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 there is no pretence, the blunders of ignorance 
 are very venial things ? — don't you think 
 they rather call for sympathy and silence ? 
 Eury'alus is a quite natural mistake." 
 
 "Look here, Ernest," said she, abruptly 
 breaking away from the subject, for she did 
 not like being reproved, even by him, " why 
 don't you paint a portrait of Lady Cameron ? 
 — she is the beauty of the ship." 
 
 " Why don't you do it yourself, Amelie ? " 
 he suggested. 
 
 " Oh, I ? " she said with a frank laugh. 
 "I brutalise everything I touch. You would 
 make a dream of it. This morning, at sunrise, 
 when we were coming near to the Straits of 
 Messina, did you notice her up at the bow 
 — perched away above the rest of us as usual ; 
 and when the light came over from the east, 
 her face seemed to me quite mystically 
 beautiful. It was a vision ; it was something 
 for you, Ernest, I tell you. Of course that 
 is a trick of hers, getting up high : she knows
 
 THE EAR OF DIONYSIUS. 163 
 
 she has a fine figure. And swinging her 
 Tarn o' Shanter in her hand is another; she 
 likes to be bare-headed, because her hair 
 shows well in the sunlight. But I am not 
 jealous ; I don't bear malice ; I love beautiful 
 things, whether they are alive or merely 
 marble. Only, what I say is, you ought 
 not to lose the opportunity. If you don't 
 wish to paint her portrait, at least make 
 studies of her head : you will rarely meet 
 with such a model. Why, you have not 
 done a stroke of work since you left England!" 
 
 " Have you ? " said he, with a smile. 
 
 " You must not talk like that," said she, 
 a little proudly. "Your work and mine are 
 not quite on the same plane — no, not quite ! 
 My manufacture I can turn out at any 
 moment ; and if I have been idle, it has 
 been because there was too much to look at, 
 too much to interest. But I should not 
 have expostulated with you, Ernest. I 
 know how your work comes to you better
 
 164 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 than you do yourself. It is exactly what 
 Shelley says about poetry : ' Poetry is the 
 record of the best and happiest moments of 
 the best and happiest minds ' . . . ' evanescent 
 visitations of thought and feeling . . . 
 * arising unforeseen and departing unbidden.' 
 Your work is inspiration ; my daubs are 
 mechanical " 
 
 " Amelie ! " said he — but whether he was 
 protesting against her skilful flattery or against 
 her self-depreciation we could not quite make 
 out. 
 
 "Oh, do you think I don't know?" she 
 exclaimed. " I tell you I understand how 
 your work comes to you ; it is a sudden 
 fancy, and if you do not seize it and hold 
 it, it is off again, and you care no more 
 about it. Ernest, have you let the Fountain 
 of Callirrhoe slip away like that ? " 
 
 " I hardly know," he said, rather uneasily. 
 " How can one tell ? It was, as you say, a 
 passing fancy; and when one is thinking of
 
 THE EAR OF DIONYSIUS. 165 
 
 other tilings one forgets." He shifted the 
 subject : he turned to our Mrs. Threepenny- 
 bit (who would have been quite content to 
 hear those two go on talking, with her own 
 speculations making an inward commentary). 
 "Do you notice how delicious a colour green 
 is, after we have come through long days 
 of blinding blue and silver ? " (For this 
 dusty roadway we were driving along was 
 bordered by an abundance of fresh vegetation 
 — bananas, lemons, pomegranates, the last 
 showing their waxen fruit taking a tinge of 
 crimson on their sunward side). "It is a 
 kind of feast for the eyes: I did not know 
 one's sight had grown so hungry. Yet blue 
 and silver — Mediterranean blue and brilliant 
 sunlight — are welcome enough at the time." 
 
 She did not answer him; for at this moment 
 the driver drew up in front of a gate ; and 
 we were expected to descend. We discovered 
 that this was the entrance to the waste land 
 surrounding the ruins of the Eoman Amphi-
 
 166 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 theatre ; and here we found one or two of 
 our excellent Orotanians wandering about, 
 picking up flowers, or gazing down at the 
 remains of the ancient building and its 
 adjuncts — the terraced stone seats, the 
 alligator tanks, the massive cages for the 
 wild beasts, all of which seemed as though 
 they had been used but yesterday, so perfect 
 were they. And this was not a gloomy 
 spectacle like the Coliseum at Eome ; this 
 was set amid fair lemon groves and verdant 
 vineyards, all smiling in the warm afternoon 
 sun. 
 
 Paul Hitrovo was here, along with his 
 Monreale friend. He observed Miss Duma- 
 resq come into these grounds, but made no 
 motion of approach ; she also threw a glance 
 — one might almost say a furtive glance — 
 in his direction, but affected to be entirely 
 absorbed in conversation with her companion. 
 Indeed, she was arm-in-arm with Mrs. Three- 
 penny-bit ; and was very affectionate ; and
 
 THE EAR OF DIONYSIUS. 167 
 
 was apologising for having taken the place 
 of Lady Cameron on these our landward 
 excursions. And when we came away again 
 she still clung in this familiar fashion to 
 her chaperon, and had no eyes for any one 
 else, save when she turned to address a 
 friendly word to Wolfenberg from time to 
 time ; and in this manner, having ordered 
 the carriage to follow, we went forward on 
 foot towards our next objective point — the 
 so-called Ear of Dionysius. 
 
 We left the road, and went along a deep- 
 descending wooded dell ; we found in front 
 of us a lofty mass of rock, thick-hanging 
 with ivy ; we entered by a wooden door in 
 a low stone wall ; and then the mysterious 
 twilight told us we were in a vast cave, the 
 further recesses of which, as well as the vault 
 overhead, were invisible in the impenetrable 
 gloom. And what was this strange " swish ! 
 — swish ! " we heard all around, and above, 
 and far beyond ? — what but our own foot-
 
 168 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 steps ! We discovered that the faintest sound 
 we could make — the light snapping of one's 
 fingers, the rustling of a piece of paper — 
 was carried away from us, and repeated again 
 and again in the distant and obscure un- 
 known ; while the door behind us, when it 
 was slammed to by the military custodian, 
 sent thundering reverberations that seemed 
 to plunge howling and rolling into the very 
 bowels of the earth. And who were these 
 who now approached us, coming out of the 
 opaque darkness into the trembling, uncertain 
 light ? The roseate and beaming Major — our 
 gracious and smiling Lady of Inverfask — the 
 tall, grave, goddess-eyed Baby : it was a 
 welcome meeting. 
 
 " This place seems full of ghosts," said 
 Peggy, in an awe-stricken way. " If you 
 speak to any one, they whisper all round you." 
 
 " Gad," said the Major, " I should not like 
 to have been one of the prisoners shut up here 
 by that old tyrant. Precious little sleep for
 
 THE EAR OF DIONYSIUS. 169 
 
 them, I should think. Now let us go out- 
 side and get away up to the gallery where 
 he used to sit and listen and discover their 
 secrets." 
 
 But we late- comers did not mean to lose so 
 invaluable a guide ; for the Major had been in 
 Sicily and in Syracuse oftentimes before ; so 
 we attached our party to his, and together 
 we passed out into the warmer air. On our 
 way up to the road again, Wolfenberg 
 gathered a few fronds of maidenhair fern, 
 and offered them to Amelie Dumaresq. She 
 accepted them, and looked pleased. The old 
 comradeship seemed to be re-established 
 between those two. 
 
 Now, to reach the little gallery and 
 chamber which legend maintains Dionysius 
 had constructed so that, by the curious 
 acoustic properties of this immense cavern, 
 he might overhear his prisoners talking, you 
 have to climb away up to the top of the 
 Greek Theatre — an imposing ruin, of far
 
 170 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 greater extent than the Koman Amphi- 
 theatre. And when we came in sight of 
 that far-stretching, far-rising, yellow-grey pile 
 of horse-shoe terraced stone seats, about the 
 first thing we noticed was two figures making 
 for the summit. Very small they looked in 
 that great space ; but by their white costumes 
 and puggarees we knew them to be Oro- 
 tanians ; and the next moment we had recog- 
 nised them — they were the young Russian 
 and his companion. Well, why not ? Had 
 they not as much right to go sight-seeing as 
 anybody ? Nay, had they not even seemed to 
 avoid us, by coming past the cave without 
 seeking to enter ? 
 
 But when we had clambered up these 
 century-worn tiers, and crossed a space of 
 gritty ground and spiky weeds, and come to 
 an opening cut into the rock leading to the 
 higher end of the cavern, we found that M. 
 Hitrovo had not the least wish to avoid us. 
 On the contrary, he rather left his companion,
 
 THE EAR OF DIONYSIUS. 171 
 
 and came forward, and spoke pleasantly and 
 carelessly to this one and that, eventually, 
 however, addressing himself exclusively to 
 Amelie Dumaresq. And, oddly enough, he 
 invariably seemed to have the power of 
 drawing her away from her friends — if only 
 for a yard or so — so that he and she could 
 speak together. Yet there was no affectation 
 of secresy ; not at all. She appeared to find 
 him amusing. She would look at him with 
 her eyes full of smiles. As for him, he did 
 not seem to take too much trouble about her. 
 He rather patronised her. But he had a 
 pretty laugh ; and his eyes — yes, it could not 
 be denied that those blue-grey eyes were 
 singularly clear, that they were full of light, 
 and that they might possibly have a bewilder- 
 ing effect on a young woman become curious 
 and interested. 
 
 At this moment Peggy came back from the 
 opening into the rock. 
 
 " What we should have done," said she,
 
 172 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 " was for one of us to have remained in the 
 cavern. Here we can talk into the roof of 
 the place, but there is no one to answer us 
 from below." 
 
 " Oh, I will go down if you like," said Paul 
 Hitrovo at once. " What do you say, Miss 
 Dumaresq ? Shall we go down and listen to 
 them and answer them ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, yes, by all means," said she, 
 cheerfully ; and the next moment those two 
 were making their way down the successive 
 stone ridges of this great theatre, in the 
 direction of the distant road, and the aque- 
 duct, and chasm leading to the echoing cave. 
 It was all the work of an instant. How 
 was any one to interfere ? Or was Amelie 
 Dumaresq the kind of person to brook inter- 
 ference ? 
 
 But Mrs. Threepenny-bit, whose attention 
 had been drawn away at the moment, was 
 most angry and indignant when she discovered 
 what had happened. Those two retreating
 
 THE EAR OF DIONYSIUS. 173 
 
 figures had now reached the aqueduct ; 
 another second, and they had disappeared 
 from sight. 
 
 "It is really too bad," she said, with frown- 
 ing brows. " She is under my charge. She 
 has no right to make off like that. If she has 
 had her head turned " 
 
 She stopped. Wolfenberg was standing by. 
 But indeed he was not listening. There was 
 a strange look on his features. His eyes were 
 pre-occupied and thoughtful, but the eyebrows 
 were drawn down somewhat ; and the firm 
 mouth that gave character to an otherwise 
 wistful and pensive countenance betokened 
 determination. Was he nerving himself to 
 face something he had not hitherto contem- 
 plated ? Or was he merely resolved to pay 
 no heed to this little incident that had just 
 occurred ? Apparently, he was not looking 
 after the fugitives — though he must have seen 
 them disappear ; his gaze, at once absent and 
 inscrutable, was fixed on that fertile cham-
 
 i 7 4 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 paign country with its luxuriant lemon groves, 
 and on the yellow-grey city perched on the 
 point, with the fair blue-belt of sea beyond. 
 He did not seem to wish to speak to any 
 one. He was alone with himself — and we left 
 him so. 
 
 What echo-borne conversation ensued be- 
 tween the little group in this small and lofty 
 gallery and the two unseen people in the 
 profound abyss below, we did not care to hear : 
 for one thing, there was a cold wind coming 
 whistling through that aperture sufficiently 
 dangerous for folk who had been all day baked 
 and boiled and blistered under a Sicilian sun. 
 The remarkable circumstance was that Hitrovo 
 and Amelie Dumaresq did not reappear — even 
 after this experiment was long over. The 
 carriages were in sight down by the aqueduct ; 
 but those two made no sign. 
 
 " We'd better go down," said Mrs. Three- 
 penny-bit, concealing her vexation very well 
 indeed. " Most likely they are waiting for
 
 THE EAR OF DIONYSIUS. 175 
 
 us, or perhaps they may have set out on foot 
 for Syracuse without saying anything — young 
 people are so inconsiderate." 
 
 However, when we had descended those 
 massive steps, and when we had got into the 
 road, and round by the aqueduct, we thought 
 we might as well have a look at the winding 
 chasm leading to the cave ; and here, indeed, 
 we found the two truants, strolling about, 
 and apparently quite unconcerned. Amelie 
 Dumaresq was carrying a nosegay of various 
 wild flowers. No doubt they had been 
 gathered for her by her companion. And 
 the modest little tribute of maiden-hair fern 
 that Wolfenberg had presented her with ? 
 That was gone. Well, ferns wither soon ; 
 perhaps she had thrown them away. But 
 an odd thing happened with regard to this 
 new and more florid bouquet. The soldier in 
 charge of the Orecchio di Dionisio had come 
 along to bid us good-bye (perhaps with some 
 ulterior views) and the moment he caught
 
 176 WOLFENDERG. 
 
 sight of the nosegay he said to her in his 
 mangled and guttural French : 
 
 " Mademoiselle, you have there some poison- 
 ous flowers ; they will do injury to your hands. 
 See, I will show you the bad ones." 
 
 For a second she did not quite catch his 
 meaning ; but when she did she saved him all 
 the trouble of separation ; she instantly flung 
 the whole lot away with a gesture as if she 
 had already been stung. For Miss Dumaresq, 
 as we had noticed before now, had a pretty 
 good idea of taking care of .herself. As we 
 drove away back to Syracuse, she repeatedly 
 looked at the palm and fingers of her little 
 plump white hand. And she had abundant 
 opportunities of doing so ; for Wolfenberg was 
 unusually silent ; when he spoke, it was mostly 
 to Mrs. Threepenny- bit, as we sometimes call 
 her. 
 
 That night, after dinner, Amelie Dumaresq 
 was entirely in her element. There was music 
 on the Marina ; the town was all illuminated ;
 
 THE EAR OF DIONYSIUS. 177 
 
 from the deck of the ship you could see the 
 electric light shining on the tall white houses ; 
 there were the black masses of the acacia-trees 
 along the promenade ; then there were the 
 long lines of silver reflections quivering on the 
 glassy water. The music was gay waltz - 
 music ; it was all pretty, modern, French, 
 light-hearted ; she, lying back in her chair, 
 and looking towards the shore, might have 
 fancied herself at Biarritz, at Nice, at Monte 
 Carlo. She was chattering away vivaciously. 
 Would it not make an excellent Impressionist 
 subject — the spectral houses, the dark masses 
 of the trees, the blue-white globes, the quiverino- 
 of the reflected lights down through the black 
 deeps ? She would like to try it herself — in 
 oils, when she had grown more familiar with 
 that medium. 
 
 "What do you say, Ernest?" she asked, 
 looking round, for Wolfenberg was stand- 
 ing by. 
 
 " Whatever you see your way to doiDo-, 
 vol. 1. ir
 
 178 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 Amelie," he made answer, " will have cha- 
 racter and quality in it — and life." 
 
 Only one other occurrence remains to be 
 chronicled of this evening ; but that was of a 
 wholly cataclysmic nature. The humble re- 
 porter of these various doings and proceedings, 
 having been sent down to the saloon to order 
 some " cold sodas " for the women-folk, was 
 returning to his place, when he chanced to run 
 against a young lady who was standing in the 
 dusky shadow outside the top of the companion- 
 way. And with every wish to be discreet, and 
 blind, and non-existent, he could not but per- 
 ceive that the young lady had just received, 
 and was now quickly thrusting into her pocket, 
 some scrap of paper that had been handed 
 her by a young gentleman who was making 
 off in another direction. The young man, 
 clearly enough, was Julian Verrinder, who had 
 come on board at Palermo in that curiously 
 unaccountable fashion, apparently without any 
 pre-arranged purpose, and professing to know
 
 THE EAR OF DIONYSIUS. 179 
 
 no human creature in the ship. The young 
 
 woman oh, Baby, Baby ! 
 
 ***** 
 Next morning was devoted to busy idleness. 
 Some went off on an exploration of the older 
 portions of Ortygia — though that was rather a 
 difficult undertaking, many of the thoroughfares 
 being so narrow that when you met a drove of 
 donkeys they had to be turned into the houses 
 and the cellar-like wineshops to let you go by ; 
 others got a boat and made away for the Eiver 
 Anapus ; while one or two of us thought we 
 would stroll along to the Fountain of Arethusa 
 — chiefly to fall in with the burning impetuosity 
 and entreaties of our good Sappho. And as 
 Lady Cameron went with us, so, you may 
 be sure, did the ever-faithful Major. And 
 here, too, was the Baby- — the serious, the 
 reserved, Juno-eyed maiden, whose very 
 manner was a standing reproach to her more 
 sprightly, sister. As for the young man who 
 had mysteriously sprung himself upon us after
 
 180 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 leaving Palermo But he was nowhere to 
 
 be seen. 
 
 And it must be owned that on this occasion 
 the Major behaved himself in a most shocking 
 fashion ; for irreverence is not becoming to 
 advanced years. He seemed to resent the 
 quite genuine enthusiasm of our tumultuous 
 poetess. 
 
 " Arethusa arose, from her couch of snows, 
 In the Acroceraunian mountains," 
 
 she was repeating to herself in a proud way. 
 as she regarded the confined little lake, and 
 the tall reeds, and the overhanging acacias. 
 
 " I don't see any mountains," he observed, 
 pettishly. 
 
 " Of course not," she made answer, staring 
 at him. " Acroceraunia is away over in 
 Greece — in Epirus. Don't you know the 
 story ? " 
 
 His silence confessed his ignorance ; and 
 right eagerly — for it was a tale after her 
 own heart — did she pour into his unwilling
 
 THE EAR OF DIONYSIUS. 181 
 
 ear the legend of the passionate river-god 
 and the flying maiden. But the Major was 
 lying in wait for his revenge. 
 
 "She came all the way under the sea, and 
 made her appearance here ? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes, indeed," said the delighted Sappho. 
 "They say that if you throw anything into 
 the Eiver Alpheus " 
 
 "She was a goddess, I presume ? " he asked 
 again. 
 
 " Oh, yes ; Arethusa was a daughter of 
 Oceanus." 
 
 " I thought as much : if she came all the 
 way under the Ionian Sea, she must have 
 been an excellent Diva." And the wicked 
 old man giggled and gurgled with laughter 
 until he was purple in the face ; and not 
 only that, but he treasured up his wretched 
 schoolboy witticism, so that every one on 
 board the ship had heard of it before the 
 evening. As for Sappho, she would pay no 
 heed to such ribaldry. She gave Phaon's
 
 132 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 leading-string a twitch, and turned haughtily 
 aside. 
 
 We weighed anchor about mid-day, and 
 steamed slowly out of the harbour; and in 
 due course of time we had lost sight of land 
 again — nothing visible anywhere save that 
 wide circle of trembling and shining blue, with 
 a few motionless yellow-white clouds along 
 the southern horizon. But although there 
 was an abundance of leisure for everybody all 
 the afternoon, it was not until the evening, 
 in fact it was not until night fell, that Mrs. 
 Threepenny-bit and her friend Peggy found 
 an opportunity of talking over what had 
 taken place on shore at Syracuse. They 
 came right aft, to their accustomed corner 
 behind the wheel-box, where there was little 
 danger of their being overheard. And it 
 soon became apparent that the elder woman 
 had been much impressed by one or two 
 circumstances that had come under her 
 observation during the last day or two.
 
 THE EAR OF DIONYSIUS. 183 
 
 " I don't know what is going to happen," 
 said she, rather sadly. " I have such a 
 respect and liking for Mr. Wolfenberg — such 
 an admiration for the simplicity and refine- 
 ment of his character — yes, and such a 
 sympathy for his lonely position " 
 
 " And so have I," says Peggy, breaking 
 in. " But when a married man allows him- 
 self to fall in love with an unmarried young 
 woman he must take the consequences." 
 
 " Peggy ! " the elder woman exclaims, 
 indignantly. " That is not the situation at 
 all. He is not in love with her, as a 
 younger man might be. He has a great 
 affection for her, no doubt, a most un- 
 selfish affection and care for her, every one 
 can see that ; and a deep interest in her and 
 her future. I have told you all along that 
 I considered the relationship existing between 
 those two as a most beautiful thing— and I 
 take her own description of it ; but the 
 difficulty is as to how any such relationship
 
 1 84 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 can be made permanent. That is where the 
 danger comes in. He thinks, or he tries to 
 persuade himself, that her mind is too down- 
 right, her brain too clear, for her to give 
 way to the illusions of love ; she will never 
 marry ; her career is art ; she is an artist 
 through and through. So he seems to think. 
 But if she is an artist, she is also a woman." 
 " And very much of a woman," puts in 
 
 " Have you noticed how thoughtful and 
 careworn he has looked during the last day 
 or two ? " her companion goes on. " Do you 
 think he is beginning to see there is a possi- 
 bility of Amelie Dumaresq falling away from 
 that compact — a possibility of his being left 
 alone ? Did you notice the expression of his 
 face yesterday, when he was standing by 
 himself away up there on the Greek Theatre, 
 and when she and the Eussian had disappeared 
 below ? " 
 
 " A man cannot suffer the tortures of
 
 THE EAR OF DIONYSIUS. 185 
 
 jealousy unless he is in love," says Peggy, 
 in her frank way. 
 
 " It was something far wider and deeper 
 than that," says the other, absently. "It 
 appeared to me as if he were contemplating 
 the possible ruin — the second and final ruin 
 — of his life. All the schemes and hopes he 
 had been counting on for the future — all the 
 companionship and compensation he had been 
 promised — tumbling away from beneath his 
 feet: himself left betrayed by the very one 
 who had made a show of coming to his 
 rescue." 
 
 " Oh, no, no, Missis," says Peggy, with 
 some effort at cheerfulness ; " it isn't so tragic 
 as all that — not yet, at all events. She has 
 been flirting with the Russian, no doubt ; 
 and she may have had her head a little bit 
 turned. But you know the remarkably blunt 
 and plain things she says about marriage : 
 she is not likely to be entrapped. All this 
 will blow over ; the Russian and his beautiful
 
 1 86 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 eyes will disappear at the end of the voyage ; 
 and she will return to her loyal allegiance 
 — to her art and her friend. Why, she is 
 bound in honour ! How often has she declared 
 her determination to make up to him for what 
 that other woman has done ? " 
 
 Mrs. Threepenny-bit was silent for a long 
 time. 
 
 " It seems such a piteous thing," she said 
 at length, with a bit of a sigh, " that a man 
 of his fine and sensitive character should be 
 at the mercy of the caprice of any woman. 
 But perhaps you are right, Peggy. Perhaps, 
 after all, Amelie Dumaresq will recover her 
 senses, and will remember what she undertook. 
 "We shall see — and that very soon, if I am not 
 mistaken."
 
 ( i8 7 ) 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 TO ATHENS SHALL THE LOVERS WEND." 
 
 We are somewhere in the Ionian Sea. It 
 is early morning, shining and calm. One 
 happens to be alone on deck when a young 
 man makes his appearance, and approaches. 
 He is a youth of a diffident and ingenuous 
 aspect — English-looking, with just enough of 
 a moustache to lend excuse for a touch of 
 pomatum. But when, after a great deal of 
 apology, and blushing, and shy appealing 
 of eyes, he blurts out what he wants, one 
 finds his demand is not nearly so modest as 
 his manner : he would like an introduction 
 to Lady Cameron of Inverfask ! 
 
 " The fact is," he goes on, in this nervous, 
 embarrassed fashion, " I — I made the ac-
 
 188 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 qaaintance of her sister Emily in Milan — 
 and — 1 don't want to have anything under- 
 hand about it " 
 
 " Of course not ; quite right. Why don't 
 you go straight to Lady Cameron, and tell 
 her you got to know her sister in Milan ? " 
 
 " It isn't as easy as all that," he answers, 
 rather ruefully. "She might begin to question 
 Emily — Miss Eosslyn, I mean. And — and — 
 there was a kind of informality, don't you 
 know. I suppose you heard of the lady Miss 
 Eosslyn was travelling with being taken so 
 seriously ill ; and her husband, Mr. Vincent, 
 would not leave her for a moment almost ; 
 and so — so, you see — Emily was pretty well 
 alone. And I was staying in the same hotel. 
 And — and she used to go every morning to 
 the Cathedral — and then I used to meet her 
 — and — and the Public Gardens are not far 
 off. Well, perhaps I'd better tell you the 
 downright truth at once. We are engaged 
 to be married."
 
 '' TO A THENS SHALL THE LOVERS WEND." 189 
 
 " The mischief you are ! " 
 
 "At least, there is an understanding that 
 is quite as good/' he says ; and then he goes 
 on, with a little becoming hesitation : ic And 
 I don't see how any one can object. I am 
 my own master now. I can make a settlement 
 on Emily that I think will satisfy her family, 
 however rich they may be " 
 
 " They are not rich ; they are poor — for 
 Americans. But why on earth didn't you 
 go to Lady Cameron the very moment you 
 came on board at Palermo, and tell her the 
 whole story ? " 
 
 " It isn't as easy as you seem to think," 
 he makes answer, almost in tones of reproach. 
 "I'm in a kind of way under orders — from 
 her. I've got to do as I'm bid. But she 
 couldn't object to my writing home to my 
 mother and sister : they are not in a position 
 to ask questions. And, you see, if you would 
 be so awfully kind as to introduce me to 
 Lady Cameron, then through her I could
 
 i 9 o WOLFENBERG. 
 
 make Emily's acquaintance all fair and square 
 and above-board, in a proper and regular 
 manner. That's how I am instructed, as 
 the lawyers say," adds this poor young man, 
 with a dolorous attempt at a smile. 
 
 " Very well ; come down early to lunch ; 
 blunder into a seat at our table ; and then 
 we'll see." 
 
 That, to our small circle, was the event 
 of the day. Sharp at one the young man 
 appeared at the door of the saloon ; he looked 
 round with a pretty humility ; and at length 
 came and gently subsided into the vacant 
 seat opposite the Baby. A word or two 
 introduced him to Lady Cameron, who was 
 also on the other side of the table. And 
 that was all he had bargained for ; indeed, 
 formal introductions are rarely needed on 
 board ship ; but how could one resist the 
 temptation of confronting those two young 
 wretches now that they were brought face to 
 face ?
 
 " TO ATHENS SHALL THE LOVERS WEND." 191 
 
 " Miss Emily, may I introduce to you Mr. 
 Julian Verrinder ? " 
 
 The two abandoned hypocrites bowed 
 gravely : he, with downcast eyes, showing 
 some little confusion ; she, with her statu- 
 esque face grown pseony-like, not daring to 
 look up. Yet perhaps their embarrassment 
 remained unnoticed ; for just at that moment 
 Peggy, as a young house-mistress, was giving 
 us her experiences of Highland servants as 
 contrasted with the American (or sub-Irish) 
 variety ; and of course that was a most 
 interesting topic for the other manager who 
 rules over us all. But it seemed to one of 
 us sitting there that a great and glorious 
 nation like the Americans — a progressive 
 nation — a nation clamorously calling atten- 
 tion to its gigantic strides — it seemed to 
 one of us that such a nation should not 
 stop short at the abolition of slavery ; it 
 should go a step further, and abolish domestic 
 service altogether as degrading and inhuman.
 
 192 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 " And who is to find work for all those 
 people, then ? " said Mrs. Threepenny-bit. 
 " Who is to support them ? " 
 
 "The State, of course; State compensation." 
 
 "They are to be brought up in pampered 
 idleness ? " 
 
 "Why, certainly!" 
 
 " Then shall the valets rejoice and the 
 maidservants skip like the young rams," 
 observed Peggy, demurely — and fortunately 
 she was but half-heard. 
 
 This was a hot and sultry and languorous 
 afternoon, ^eggy said she wished she had 
 brought a few begging-letters with her, to 
 hang up in her cabin ; their coolness, she 
 imagined, would turn any place into a re- 
 frigerator. Laziness was the order of the 
 day on deck : books, chess, dominoes, draughts, 
 surreptitious snoring. But of a sudden, just 
 after sunset, a rumour ran like wild-fire 
 through the ship that the coast of Greece 
 was in sight ; there was a quick abandonment
 
 " TO A THENS SHALL THE LOVERS WEND." 193 
 
 of these various occupations, and a rush to 
 the rail ; and there, sure enough, far away 
 in the north-east, beyond the dark indigo 
 sea, and half-hidden in a crimson-tinted mist 
 that caught its colour from the fading western 
 skies, rose one or two mountainous peaks, 
 pale and shadowy, in the neighbourhood of 
 Cape Matapan. At once our enthusiastic 
 Sappho was in a state of tremulous excite- 
 ment. What was the ancient name of the 
 Cape ? What ? — Tsenarium, where Hercules 
 slew the serpent? And Cape Malea was the 
 next point? And Cerigo — Cythera — was right 
 ahead of us? These other women — poor, vain, 
 soulless creatures — were now all going away 
 to their state-rooms to dress for dinner ; but 
 not so Sappho ; was it likely, when we 
 should soon be approaching the island where 
 Aphrodite sprang glorious from the white sea- 
 foam ? The dusk fell. The sultry day had 
 been storing up electricity; blue lightning- 
 flashes began to play along the northern 
 
 VOL. 1.
 
 r94 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 horizon. But at length we also were forced 
 to leave our good Sappho, her arms pensive 
 on the rail ; we guessed we should find some 
 fruits of this rapt contemplation later on. 
 
 Now what vengeful god or goddess, what 
 unholy witch or wizard, threw a spell of 
 incantation over our ship on this succeeding 
 night, so that during the dark hours we were 
 whisked away some thousands of miles from 
 our proper whereabouts ? The next morning 
 found us in the Sound of Sleat ! There could 
 be no doubt about it. A single glance out 
 of the port-hole revealed the strangely familiar 
 features — the calm, glassy blue sea ; the bare,- 
 and lonely, and apparently tenantless islands ; 
 the first rays of the sun, streaming over from 
 the east, lighting up those solitary shores. 
 But — but — if this is the coast of Skye, where 
 are the mighty Coolins with their black and 
 jagged peaks piercing the heavens? And 
 those islands, in their soft and beautiful rose- 
 grey : are they not something warmer in
 
 " TO ATHENS SHALL THE LOVERS WEND?' 195 
 
 tone than the wind-swept Hebrides ? And 
 then again, when one collects one's scattered 
 senses, ought we not by rights to be some- 
 where in the neighbourhood of Argolis, with 
 Hydra on the one hand, and Agio Giorgio 
 on the other, and before us the spacious Gulf 
 of iEgina ? It is time to get on deck, to 
 clear up these bewildering doubts. 
 
 And here is Peggy, luckily all by her- 
 self. 
 
 " Do you know," she says, with something 
 of a rueful smile, " that when I got up this 
 morning and looked out, I thought I was 
 at home again ! " — and when this tall young 
 lady talks about home, it is not Kentucky 
 she has in her mind, though 'twas there she 
 was born. 
 
 Suddenly she alters her tone. 
 
 " Now that we have a minute together," 
 says she, rather indignantly, " perhaps you 
 will tell me when I am to get back to my 
 own friends, I came away with you. I did
 
 196 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 not bargain to go about with an inspired 
 maniac of a poetess and a swearing old Major 
 making bad jokes " 
 
 " Oh, oh ! For you to say anything against 
 the Major — considering his devotion to you — 
 and the way you have been openly carrying- 
 on with him " 
 
 " Carrying on ! " she says. "Much chance 
 of carrying on with anybody — while the 
 Baby's great eyes are staring at you all 
 the time ! " 
 
 "Perhaps the Baby might as well look to 
 herself/' one ventures to say. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " Oh, nothing. But here is some information 
 for you. You know it was merely because 
 we had Amelie Dumaresq thrown on our 
 hands that you and we got separated when 
 we went on shore. But this time, while 
 we are at Athens, the Dumaresqs are going 
 to stay at an hotel, to save the trouble of 
 coming back each night to the steamer. And
 
 " TO A THENS SHALL THE LOVERS WEND." 197 
 
 you may be sure that the Major will dine 
 at an hotel, for the sake of variety — yes, and 
 Sappho, too, if anybody will ask her " 
 
 "And we shall be together again and by 
 ourselves ! " says Peggy, with a quick delight 
 shining in her eyes. " That will be something 
 to make up ! And I'll tell you what we 
 must do. After dinner the Missis and you 
 must come into my cabin ; and I'll get out 
 my banjo ; and we'll have one of the real 
 old evenings ! I think we'll give old Father 
 Time what for; we'll make things hum a 
 little ! " But here her face falls. " There's 
 the Baby — I forgot her." 
 
 " Is she so very austere ? " 
 
 " Oh, she is too solemn for anything ! " says 
 Peggy, with a certain impatience, though she 
 is fond enough of the serious-minded Emily 
 all the same. " She ought to go into some 
 religious retreat — some sisterhood : that will 
 be the end of it all, I know. And here she 
 is coming now. Didn't I tell you ? I never
 
 198 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 can get a word with anybody, without finding 
 her big eyes staring at me ! " 
 
 And so we steamed on through the luminous 
 and glancing azure, on the one hand the 
 ruddy island of iEgina, on the other the 
 mountainous coast that leads away down 
 to " Sunium's marbled steep." It was a 
 delightful, idle, dreamy kind of morning — 
 not the kind of morning on which one wanted 
 to be startled or even surprised ; so that when 
 a very gentle-voiced and gentle-eyed lady 
 came up to our Mrs. Threepenny-bit, and 
 held out her binocular glass, and said 
 quietly — 
 
 "Wouldn't you like to look at the Acro- 
 polis ? " — the smaller woman could only 
 stammer out, in a frightened sort of way : 
 
 " The— the Acropolis of Athens ? " 
 
 The next instant she was on her feet, 
 staring eagerly and goggle-eyed. For yonder, 
 unmistakably, were the distant and lofty 
 heights, with a glimmer of grey columns, and
 
 " TO ATHENS SHALL THE LOVERS WEND" 199 
 
 with a strip of grey town far below; and 
 yonder, too, were the scarred and shaggy 
 slopes of Mount Hymettus ; while down by 
 the blue sea was the bold scimitar-sweep of 
 the shores of Salamis. The first impression 
 we received was one of extreme loneliness 
 and lifelessness, despite the presence of that 
 powdered grey city. There was not a boat 
 moving anywhere on these shining clear 
 waters ; the coast-line seemed strangely un- 
 inhabited. For one thing, we were not going 
 round into the Peirasus, on account of certain 
 rumours of fever that had reached us at 
 Syracuse ; we were making in for the solitary 
 little Bay of Phalerum ; and that we took 
 possession of, and had all to ourselves. 
 
 " Peggy," said Mrs. Threepenny-bit, some 
 little time thereafter, when we had got ready 
 to go ashore for a preliminary look round — 
 and she spoke in a low voice — " have you 
 heard ? Mr. Hitrovo is going to stay at the 
 same hotel with the Dumaresqs."
 
 200 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 Peggy said nothing, but looked much. 
 
 " And they have asked us to lunch with 
 them to-morrow," her friend continued ; " and 
 I have accepted, for all of us.'' 
 
 " Will the Russian be there ? " asked Peggy. 
 
 "That depends on whether Amelie Dunia- 
 resq wants him to be there. It is all her 
 arrangement. If she wishes him to be there 
 he will be there. She has a way of getting 
 everything she wants — even if it were the 
 moon, I should think." 
 
 " And Wolfenberg ? " 
 
 " Peggy," said the smaller woman, " Mr. 
 Wolfenberg is in charge of them ! Do you 
 mean to say there might be a possibility of the 
 Russian being present as their guest — making 
 up a family party, almost — and Wolfenberg 
 absent ? That would be too — too — much ! " 
 
 " Yet such things have happened," observed 
 Peggy, calmly, as she watched the men bring- 
 ing the boats round to take us in to the land. 
 
 Truly it is an ignominious thing that you
 
 "TO ATHENS SHALL THE LOVERS WEND." 201 
 
 have to approach Athens by either rail or 
 tramway ; but travellers must be content ; and 
 when we got ashore we took our tickets in the 
 empty little station of Phaleruru, j ust as if we 
 > had been going to Greenwich. And when the 
 train came in, our party of four got possession 
 of a compartment in the most ordinary way : 
 there positively would have been no enthu- 
 siasm, no excitement, no recalling of ancient 
 deeds and ancient glories, had not our dear 
 Sappho skipped in also, followed by the 
 Major in pursuit of Peggy. And in vain 
 did Sappho strive to conceal her exaltation. 
 As we moved out into the arid and dusty 
 plain, she was all eagerness to catch a glimpse 
 of the Paver Cephissus — the Cephissus in 
 which the youthful Theseus had bathed before 
 going to the palace of King iEgeus to claim 
 his rights. Alas ! there was no Cephissus. 
 It had all gone away. We saw one or two 
 channels in the limy soil that might at one 
 time or another have been a river-bed ; but
 
 202 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 were now more likely to be frequented by 
 lizards than by fish. And there would be no 
 Ilissus either, then ? she demanded. And no 
 Fountain of Callirrhoe ? 
 
 " The whole place is burned up," said the 
 Major, who seemed secretly to rejoice in her 
 disappointment. " And shan't we be roasted 
 alive in this blessed town ! I tell you, about 
 the only cool thing we are likely to find in 
 Athens is the frieze of the Parthenon." 
 
 He o-iQ-rfed : but no one else did. This 
 brutality seemed to set the seal on our 
 degradation. It was only fit that we should 
 arrive in Athens carrying railway-tickets in 
 our hands. 
 
 But on reaching the terminus we managed 
 to throw off those two : our party of four just 
 filled a carriage ; and, as we drove away, we 
 caught sight of the Major having perforce, 
 and probably with a very ill grace, to offer 
 a seat in his vehicle to his forlorn companion. 
 We saw no more of Sappho for a long time
 
 " TO A THENS SHALL THE LOVERS WEND." 203 
 
 thereafter — not, indeed, until we found her 
 in front of the little Temple of Nike Apteros, 
 absorbed and awe-stricken, and no doubt 
 dreaming of the black -sailed ships coming 
 back from Crete, far out on yonder blue 
 plain of sea. 
 
 We made direct away for the Acropolis, of 
 course ; our first stage in the ever-ascending 
 route being the Temple of Theseus, where we 
 found the Dumaresqs and Wolfenberg — the 
 Russian being unexpectedly absent. Amelie 
 Dumaresq — who was somehow always the 
 central figure of any such chance-formed 
 group, and whose opinions seemed to demand 
 attention — did not appear to have been im- 
 pressed by the Theseum. It was smaller than 
 she had anticipated. It had been copied so 
 often that itself looked like a copy. Roofed 
 over, it had the appearance of a museum. It 
 was too complete. There was not enough 
 ruin about it. If the Venetians, in besieging 
 the Acropolis, had thrown a few bombs into
 
 204 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 this building, and knocked, it about a bit, 
 it would have been infinitely improved. It 
 wanted the letting in of daylight — and a 
 background of blue sky for the pillars. And 
 so forth. Wolfenberg listened. 
 
 "Amelie," said he, with a smile, " come 
 with me. I will show you something that 
 will interest you." 
 
 He took her to the end of the building 
 where, out of range of the sunlight, there were 
 several swarthy- complexioned figures lying in 
 various attitudes prone on the steps, either 
 asleep or merely basking in luxurious idleness. 
 It was all very picturesque and fine in colour : 
 the diverse costumes, the warm tones of the 
 shadowed marble, the palpitating, hot air 
 beyond, the aerial tints of the distant hills. 
 And here, also, walking about in very brave 
 array, were a couple of Cretans — a couple of 
 unmistakable cut-throats, if physiognomy ever 
 spoke a word of truth. They stared at her ; 
 she stared at them ; it was not her eyes —
 
 " TO ATHENS SHALL THE LOVERS WEND? 205 
 
 those bold, lustrous black eyes — that were 
 first abashed. 
 
 But then again, when our panting horses 
 had dragged us away up the stony hill, and 
 when on foot we had ascended the worn and 
 steep steps of the Propylsea, and when at 
 length, after toiling across a wilderness of 
 broken pillars, pedestals, architraves, cornices, 
 and the like, the marble fragments lying 
 tumbled about among parched weeds and 
 thistles — when at length we came in front 
 of the Parthenon, there was no disposition to 
 criticise, nor even to speak, manifested by 
 this young woman. Such artist-soul as she 
 possessed seemed entirely entranced by the 
 simplicity and grandeur of this spectacle ; and 
 not only that, but by the actual beauty of 
 the colour — those lonely and lofty columns, 
 golden-white and saffron-stained, shining calm 
 and fair against the dark, deep, pellucid-blue 
 of a perfectly cloudless sky. No picture or 
 any other representation of the Parthenon,
 
 206 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 can give any one the faintest idea of this 
 rich and vivid and exquisite colour ; nor can 
 all the photographs that ever were manu- 
 factured convey the least impression of the 
 vastness of the ruin, or of its height, and 
 remoteness from the rest of the surrounding 
 world. You forget that there is a populous 
 city with its swarms of houses lying scattered 
 about somewhere down in the valley. You 
 forget the long centuries of wrong and rapine 
 and outrage that have swept by like so many 
 tempests, destroying much, but not destroy- 
 ing all. These columns, broken and defaced 
 as they are, seem to rise above such transitory 
 things — to be somehow dissociated from the 
 earth ; voiceless, they appear to be holding 
 communion with the still heavens ; and to 
 have become immortal through their imperish- 
 able beauty. For already we had begun to 
 yield to the strange fascination that, while 
 you are in Athens, seems to draw you 
 involuntarily away up to this grand, lonely,
 
 " TO A THENS SHALL THE LOVERS WEND." 207 
 
 beautiful thing, and to leave you pretty well 
 indifferent to aught else. 
 
 Not but that there were plenty of other 
 objects of intensest interest, up here on the 
 Acropolis. Each oue of our scattered party 
 seemed to go his own way, wandering about, 
 finding out for himself or herself, and not 
 anxious for any companionship. Groups 
 formed by accident ; then separated again ; 
 one amateur explorer would be chiefly inte- 
 rested in the traces left by Turk and Christian 
 on the Greek walls ; another would go about 
 examining the ornamentation of fallen pedi- 
 ments and capitals ; a third might have his 
 eyes attracted by the great panorama of sea, 
 and plain, and mountain, with the marble 
 quarries of Pentelicus gleaming white on the 
 far hill-side. And so it was without any 
 surprise that one came across Ernest Wolfen- 
 berg, standing quite by himself, in front of 
 the little Temple of the Caryatides. 
 
 " Isn't it strange," he began to say, in his
 
 208 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 thoughtful and dispassionate manner, " how 
 difficult it is for the official mind — and for 
 some other minds as well — to draw the line 
 between preservation and restoration ? They 
 cannot for the life of them leave things alone ; 
 they must of necessity bring in the modern 
 mechanic to tinker and beautify. And there's 
 another thing they can't resist doing : when 
 they find anything detachable they can't help 
 rushing off with it at once to a museum, and 
 putting it in a glass case if that is possible. 
 And yet half the value of memorials of ancient 
 life and art lies in their being allowed to 
 remain in situ. Just imagine how im- 
 measurably interesting it would be if the 
 excavators would leave a house in Pompeii 
 precisely as they found it : every object — 
 every knitting-needle, and lamp, and dish, 
 and wine-glass — in its place, just as it was 
 when the ashes began to fall. But they 
 couldn't bring themselves to do that. They 
 must snatch up every article, and away with
 
 " TO ATHENS SHALL THE LOVERS WEND:' 209 
 
 it to the Naples Museum, where there are 
 dozens and hundreds of them already. And 
 the restorers are infinitely worse. Look at 
 this beautiful little building that has been 
 talked about for ages and ages. 1 suppose 
 putting in that wedge of entablature may be 
 forgiven — perhaps it was necessary ; but, you 
 see, they couldn't stop there ; they had to add 
 a brand new Caryatid. The Temple of the 
 Six Virgins ought to have six figures ; they 
 couldn't leave it with five ; so they added a 
 new one. And then, naturally, you begin 
 to consider everything suspect. These bits 
 of egg-and-dart decoration lying about : how 
 do you know that the modern mechanic's 
 chisel has not been tinkering at them ? And 
 yet," he went on presently, " I must try to 
 believe that the scroll-work inside the 
 Erectheum has been left untouched : it is 
 so indescribably beautiful. Did you notice 
 it particularly in the inner temple and over 
 the doorway ? It is well sheltered there ; 
 
 VOL. 1. p
 
 210 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 perhaps that accounts for its perfect state. 
 Come, shall we go round and have another 
 look ? " 
 
 Well, a second visit, although the afternoon 
 was drawing on, was no great hardship ; for 
 the Erectheum is far and away the most grace- 
 ful of all the Acropolis monuments. Moreover, 
 the entrance was only a few yards distant. 
 But we were suddenly to be recalled from 
 these architectural questions to more living- 
 interests. We were just about to pass round 
 by the steps leading up to the tall and elegant 
 Ionic pillars, when we perceived two figures 
 there, at the base of the columns, and perhaps 
 half a yard or so within. They were Paul 
 Hitrovo and Amelie Dumaresq. It could not 
 be said that there was any effort at concealment 
 on their part ; still, their appearance here was 
 in a measure startling ; for the Russian had 
 not hitherto been visible during the day. 
 Another thing : ordinarily, in talking to 
 Hitrovo, Amelie regarded him with frank and
 
 " TO ATHENS SHALL THE LOVERS WEND" 211 
 
 upturned and smiling eyes ; but now her head 
 was downcast ; her face was concerned and 
 grave ; she was vaguely scoring the dust with 
 the point of her sunshade. He, on the other 
 hand, had his eyes intently fixed on her — so 
 that neither noticed the approach of strangers. 
 Wolfenberg turned quickly aside — perhaps 
 pretending to have seen nothing. 
 
 " Some other time — any time — " he said, 
 hurriedly, and yet with some affectation of 
 calm indifference. " The fact is, a preliminary 
 glance round is quite enough for to-day ; now 
 we know where to come for closer study. And 
 — and we must not let the women-folk get 
 tired, especially Mrs. Dumaresq, who is not 
 very strong. Have you seen her of late ? I 
 suppose she is sitting down somewhere, talking 
 to some one. I must go and try to find her 
 anyway. There are your people coming round 
 yonder by the Parthenon." And so he went 
 away ; and those two, whatever they were 
 talking about, were left undisturbed.
 
 212 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 It was drawing towards dusk when we got 
 back to the little wooden jetty at Phalerum ; 
 and twilight had fallen by the time the ship's 
 boat had carried us out to the Orotania. 
 This evening, at dinner, we had a new 
 experience : the vacant spaces at our table 
 were conspicuous. And we should hardly 
 have imagined that we should so have felt 
 the absence of three people who, not so very 
 long ago, had been entirely strangers to us. 
 But there was this about Amelie Dumaresq 
 in particular — that whether she attracted or 
 repelled you, you could not but be impressed 
 by her presence. She was there, very much 
 in evidence ; of strong and assertive vitality ; 
 full-pulsating, as it were, with gaiety and the 
 enjoyment of life; and perfectly well aware of all 
 her wilfulness, her charm, her intrepid opinions, 
 and (not least) the power of the laughing blaze 
 of her black eyes. Wolfenberg, too, in his 
 more retiring way, had grown to interest us 
 deeply ; we seemed to miss the fine, thought-
 
 "TO ATHENS SHALL THE LOVERS WEND." 213 
 
 ful, ascetic face, the sympathetic grey eyes, 
 even the quietly humorous fashion in which 
 he was wont to apologise for the young lady's 
 audacities. As for the sad -faced mother — 
 But she was content to remain mostly in the 
 background, a not unconcerned spectator of 
 what was going on. 
 
 However, we were not wholly deserted ; for 
 Julian Verrinder, seeing these uuoccupied 
 places, made bold to come and take one of 
 them, with many and modest excuses. And 
 nothing could exceed the courteous and 
 pleasant manner in which he tried to in- 
 gratiate himself with Lady Cameron and with 
 our Mrs. Threepenny-bit, offering them all 
 kinds of things they didn't want, asking them 
 shy questions about their day's doings, and 
 meekly listening, and never obtruding a 
 word about himself. And he agreed with all 
 their opinions, before they had got them half 
 uttered ; until they could not but have been 
 convinced that he was a most intelligent
 
 2 , 4 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 young man. On the surface he did not pay 
 much attention to Emily Eosslyn ; but he 
 had the ineffable pleasure of tendering her the 
 cruet-stand, in the temporary absence of the 
 steward, or he would venture to recommend 
 the fresh salad, or the olives, or the caviare. 
 As for her, the young wretch affected to treat 
 him as almost an absolute stranger ; she would 
 hardly even vouchsafe him a timid "No, 
 thank you ! " Perhaps she was in trembling 
 terror lest some incautious word or sign might 
 betray the amazing truth. 
 
 It was a beautiful night on deck, the stars 
 and planets lambent in the deep violet vault. 
 There was a perfect silence : the famous city 
 was far enough away to send us no sound, 
 while we guessed that now there would not 
 be much of tumult up there on the solitary 
 heights of the Acropolis, near to the throbbing 
 and yet benign and tranquil skies. If there 
 could be anything anywhere out of consonance 
 with the prevailing calm in which the w T orld
 
 "TO ATHENS SHALL THE LOVERS WEND." 215 
 
 was shrouded, it could only be, perhaps, in 
 some solitary and aching heart, questioning 
 itself, or nerving itself for the future ; and 
 such things are kept hidden away and un- 
 revealed. 
 
 "Did you speak to Mr. Wolfenberg to- 
 day ? " asked Peggy of her friend, as they 
 were leaning on the rail, and looking across 
 the black water to the dim, uncertain lights. 
 
 " Oh yes." 
 
 " And he is to be of the party at the hotel 
 to-morrow ? " 
 
 " I understand so." 
 
 " I am glad of that," she says ; and then 
 she adds, slowly : " Because — because — other- 
 wise, I don't think I should have gone."
 
 216 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 FACING CONTINGENCIES. 
 
 The gods were good to Sappho on the following 
 day : they called the lost Ilissus back to life 
 again : Cephissus, also, they summoned from 
 his subterranean lair. We had been driving 
 about hither and thither during the mornino; 
 — to a number of places it is needless to 
 enumerate here ; and all the while we had 
 been conscious of an ever-increasing darkness 
 overhead. Indeed it was welcome ; for we 
 had become tired of that long j)eriod f blue 
 skies, blue seas, and glaring sunlight ; and 
 were quite glad to think of the coolness of a 
 shower of rain. But there was more coming 
 than we bargained for. The surrounding 
 mountains had grown more and more sombre ;
 
 FACING CONTINGENCIES. 217 
 
 they seemed to draw strangely near, as if they 
 would hem in the doomed town ; the air was 
 stifling ; the impending darkness deepened, 
 and still further deepened ; what wan light 
 there was came in horizontally, and touched 
 the fronts of the houses in a spectral fashion. 
 Then, as we watched and waited in this 
 ominous silence, of a sudden, out of the black 
 bosom of the hills, there leapt a red flash of 
 flame ; it struck down ; it appeared to splinter 
 itself on the ground, and to spread itself out 
 again in swift and trembling filaments of fire. 
 There was a low premonitory growl — answered 
 somewhere else. Another blaze of flame leapt 
 out of the black : this time there was a sharper 
 rattle, that echoed all around. And now the 
 fun grew fast and furious ; the other portions 
 of the heavens joined in ; sometimes there was 
 a continuous and blinding dazzle of crimson — 
 a chain of fire, as it were ; while the noise grew 
 deafening — Corydallus, Pentelicus, Hymettus 
 calling to each other across the awe-stricken
 
 218 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 valleys. Then the accumulated black masses 
 immediately over us must needs take part ; 
 there were one or two knife-like gleams of pink ; 
 and at the same moment an ear-splitting roar 
 and clamour that seemed to say that all the 
 buildings of the Acropolis — the Parthenon, the 
 Propylsea, the Erectheum — were coming hurling 
 headlong down on the top of the devoted city. 
 And meanwhile the rain had been descending 
 in sheets — a deluge that appeared to consist of 
 ten thousand waterspouts ; insomuch that in 
 an incredibly short space of time Athens had 
 become completely transfigured, her dry and 
 dusty thoroughfares changed into tawny canals, 
 with a flood in them so deep and opaque that 
 the unaccustomed horses refused to go forward. 
 As for ourselves, we fled for refuge into the 
 nearest public building, which chanced to be 
 the museum in which the Schliemann relics 
 (from Mycenae) are treasured ; but even here 
 we had to face cascades of water that came 
 surging along the open stone galleries and
 
 FACING CONTINGENCIES. 219 
 
 down the wide staircases. But what did we 
 care for all this terrific commotion — and also 
 for having to wade a foot deep in passing from 
 one room to the other — when we could calculate 
 on this amazing storm having roused the two 
 slumbering rivers, and, when we thought of 
 the joy and rapture of our beloved Sappho? 
 For we knew that, as we went back to 
 Phalerum in the afternoon, we should find 
 the Cephissus a whirling and riotous torrent, 
 sweeping before it mud, and gravel, and 
 branches onwards to the sea, and also that 
 the wide plain which had always seemed to 
 us so parched and burnt-up would now show 
 silver-glancing pools and lakes, between the 
 rows of olive and vine. Perhaps, moreover, 
 in some happy moment, we might discover 
 the elusive Fountain of Callirrhoe, that 
 hitherto had been for us invisible. 
 
 But in the meantime we had to keep our 
 appointment with the Dumaresqs ; and when, 
 at length, after about two hours' imprisonment
 
 220 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 in this building, a pale, tremulous, lemon-hued 
 light told us that the storm-clouds were lifting 
 themselves away from the deluged city, we 
 ventured out, and drove away down through 
 those yellow canals to the hotel. And here, 
 in the long, bare, shaded, foreign-looking 
 apartment, it was from the outset obvious 
 that it was Amelie Dumaresq, not her mother, 
 who was our hostess. She managed every- 
 thing — arranged everything — consulted with 
 the landlord — directed the waiters. She was 
 in high spirits ; this little diversion from the 
 routine life on board ship seemed to please 
 her. She was looking her best, too ; and was 
 very prettily and neatly attired, with but 
 little ornament ; a dagger of rose-red coral 
 was effective in the splendid masses of her 
 black hair. 
 
 She took the head of the table as a matter 
 of course — to save her mother trouble. Wol- 
 fenberg she asked to preside at the other end. 
 To Paul Hitrovo she did not give the place of
 
 FACING CONTINGENCIES. 221 
 
 honour on her right ; his presence there was 
 significant enough without that ; and, in truth, 
 she affected to take but scant notice of him. 
 As for him, he remained carelessly quiet 
 throughout the little banquet ; he did not 
 seek to interfere in the conversation ; when 
 he did speak at all, it was generally some 
 mere bit of comment — of a half- cynical and 
 not unamusingr kind. He was next to the 
 Baby. " The two young people must sit 
 together," Amelie Dumaresq had said, be- 
 nignly — playing the part of matron and 
 house-mistress. 
 
 And now that everything was set going, 
 the young hostess proceeded with right good 
 will to entertain her guests, which for her was 
 easy enough. Laughing, chattering, ap- 
 pealing to this one and that, revealing the 
 results of a rather malicious observation of 
 her fellow-passengers, she kept the ball of 
 conversation rolling briskly enough and with- 
 out effort, so alert, independent, many-sided
 
 222 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 did she show herself. And again on this 
 occasion she was merciful to us. She did 
 not hack and hew at the pedestals of accepted 
 tradition ; she did not tear down veils to 
 exhibit shattered idols ; she even let Homer 
 alone — and was entirely good-natured. If 
 there was any one whose speeches did not 
 seem to meet with the full approval of our 
 miniature Censor of Morals it was M. Paul 
 Hitrovo ; and yet such chance things as we 
 heard were surely harmless enough. 
 
 " Isn't it sad," he said, in a kind of under 
 tone, to the Baby, apropos of something or 
 another, "isn't it very sad to think of the 
 vast number of people who are slaves to duty ? 
 It seems such a strange superstition." 
 
 Well, that was nothing. But on one 
 occasion he did manage to provoke our Mrs. 
 Threepenny-bit into a little mild interfer- 
 ence. 
 
 " After all," he happened to say to that 
 ingenuous young neighbour of his, "human
 
 FACING CONTINGENCIES. 223 
 
 nature is a good deal stronger than the Ten 
 Commandments. " 
 
 "You mean that sometimes the Ten Com- 
 mandments get broken ? " the small woman 
 opposite him put in. 
 
 " Why not say frequently ? " he suggested, 
 with a smile. 
 
 " Perhaps," she answered him. " But at 
 the same time, if there never had been any 
 Mount Sinai at all, human nature would have 
 had to invent the Ten Commandments for its 
 ow T n preservation." 
 
 It was hardly a rebuke ; yet Amelie 
 Dumaresq looked quickly from the one to the 
 other ; perhaps she was anxious to see what 
 impression this young man, in these more 
 intimate circumstances, produced on her 
 friends. 
 
 To outward appearance she was far more 
 attentive to Wolfenberg. She paid him all 
 kinds of little flatteries — sometimes disguised 
 as reproach.
 
 224 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 "Ernest," she called to him, " don't you 
 see that the very heavens are interposing to 
 befriend you ? This miracle of a flood has all 
 come about to show you the Fountain of 
 Callirrhoe. You can have no further excuse 
 for neglecting your picture. Why, I want 
 those people on board the ship who have never 
 seen any of your work just to understand a 
 little who it is to whom they say ' Good 
 morning ! ' when they come up on deck." 
 
 " I'm afraid, Amelie," he said, in his quiet 
 way, " the Fountain of Callirrhoe has all gone 
 away — vanished — as far as I am concerned. 
 I have not thought of it of late. It was only 
 a passing suggestion." 
 
 " Well, if you have lost interest in it, why 
 not begin something else ? " she demanded, in 
 her downright fashion. ". Why not the Dance 
 of the Cobras ? Do you know," she said, 
 turning to her other guests, " that cobras have 
 the strangest habit, on moonlight nights, of 
 keeping their head erect, and swaying them-
 
 FACING CONTINGENCIES. 225 
 
 selves from side to side, and watching their 
 shadows on the ground ? They seem to enjoy 
 it ; the sinuous movement pleases them. 
 Don't you think that Mr. Wolfenberg could 
 make something very mysterious and imagi- 
 native out of such a subject ? And they are 
 said to be curiously susceptible to musical 
 sound, too. Couldn't that be brought in ? — 
 a verandah — some one playing inside — the 
 beasts charmed out from their hiding-places 
 into the moonlight " 
 
 " It makes one's flesh creep to think of it ! " 
 said Mrs. Threepenny-bit, with an involuntary 
 shudder. 
 
 " Oh, I like looking into the snake-cases 
 in the Zoological Gardens," said Amelie 
 Dumaresq, cheerfully enough. " But what I 
 confess I cannot do is to look into the monkey- 
 house. That is quite different. Any other beast 
 I can stare in the face — but a monkey — no — 
 I somehow feel ashamed. It seems as if I 
 were guilty of impertinence — as if I had shut 
 
 YOL. I. Q
 
 226 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 up a poor relation in there — and might at 
 least pass on and pretend not to see. Don't 
 his eyes reproach you ? He appears to ask 
 why he should be so treated — why he should 
 be put behind bars, just like an ordinary wild 
 beast ; while you are walking about at liberty, 
 in splendid silks and satins. But Ernest — 
 come, now — what about the cobras in moon- 
 light ? I really cannot have those people 
 talking to you as if you were one of them- 
 selves ; they must know who you are ; I must 
 have something to show them " 
 
 "My dear Amelie," he said, quite good- 
 naturedly, " what is the use of painting now- 
 adays ? Picture-buying is a lost art " 
 
 " Oh, for you to say that ! " she exclaimed, 
 in reproachful tones. 
 
 " The fact is," he said, " I am going to take 
 to another way of earning my living alto- 
 gether. Shall I tell you? Very well. I 
 don't know whether you are aware that only 
 sixty-seven eggs of the great auk are known
 
 FACING CONTINGENCIES. 227 
 
 to exist. Of course they are extremely 
 valuable. One of them was recently sold 
 for three hundred pounds. Now I propose 
 to introduce on the scene an ancient and 
 simple sea-captain — a whaler or sealer from 
 Baffin's Bay, or some such remote place ; and 
 he must have a circumstantial story of a 
 discovered island, where he found a heap of 
 big eggs, which he brought home out of mere 
 curiosity. He doesn't know that they are 
 the great auk's eggs ; of course not ; but still, 
 the simple mariner won't accept the first bid 
 for them " 
 
 " But where can he have got them, if they 
 are so rare ? " she interposed. 
 
 " I am going to make them for him," he 
 replied, calmly. " An imitation that will defy 
 detection — far more easy than you think. 
 Besides, the honest tar's story would ward off 
 suspicion. No doubt the price of auk's eggs 
 will come down somewhat ; but even at 150/. 
 a piece, or even at 100/. a piece, a good steady
 
 228 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 supply — from the inexhaustible stores of the 
 sealer's cabin — ought to make one's fortune." 
 
 "Well, well, Ernest!" she said. "And 
 you are not ashamed to sit there and confess, 
 before English people, that the tradition of 
 wooden nutmegs still lingers in the American 
 national character ? " 
 
 But all the same his fantastic fancy of the 
 moment had served its end: it had drawn 
 away the talk from the question of his 
 painting ; and we had noticed ere now that 
 he was curiously shy about having his work 
 spoken of before strangers. Amelie Duniaresq 
 did not seem to understand, or at least to 
 pay much heed to, this sensitiveness ; and 
 in the present case it was of slight conse- 
 quence ; for directly she was off and away 
 to some other topic, with her usual happy- 
 go-lucky impetuosity. It was a merry little 
 occasion, free and unrestrained, as one might 
 have thought, with nothing serious at all about 
 it. But women's eyes are always observant.
 
 FACING CONTINGENCIES. 229 
 
 That same night, when Peggy and her 
 friend had secured a snug corner for them- 
 selves on deck — the heavens were all clear 
 again, and the stars were throbbing luminously 
 over the dark spaces of the sea — you may be 
 sure it was to that midday festivity that their 
 conversation turned. 
 
 " I tell you, Missis, I am convinced of it/ 
 says Peggy, with as much decision as she 
 dare put into her necessarily low tones. " I 
 tell you that man is in love with her, wholly, 
 entirely, desperately in love with her — 
 whether he himself knows it or not." 
 
 "What, the Kussian ? " 
 
 "Not at all! The Eussian is only 
 playing with her. He is too much in 
 love with himself to be in love with 
 anybody else. He thinks he has only got 
 to look at you with his beautiful eyes, and 
 you must succumb. He does not take the 
 trouble to make himself agreeable ; he 
 expects you to amuse him ; and then he
 
 230 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 smiles — and you are rewarded ! No — it is 
 Wolf enb erg 
 
 "You are speaking of a married man, 
 Peggy ! " the other observes, severely. 
 
 " Worse luck," says Peggy, with a bit of 
 a sigh. "But whether he himself knows it 
 or not, that man is in love with Amelie 
 Dumaresq ; and this understanding of theirs 
 — this compact — this exalted friendship — is 
 with him only some desperate clinging on to 
 what he feels must one day slip away from 
 him. In love with her ? Didn't you see how 
 his eyes followed her wherever she went — as 
 if it was a constant delight to him to let them 
 rest even on the folds of her dress, or the 
 coils of her hair, or the outline of her neck 
 and arms. He speaks to her as he speaks 
 to no one else. His voice changes when he 
 turns to her — it is so gentle, so intimate, so 
 suggestive of an understanding that is hidden 
 from outsiders. Perhaps she doesn't quite 
 perceive it either. She is a little blunt —
 
 FACING CONTINGENCIES. 231 
 
 don't you think? — not exactly thick-skinned 
 — but — but pretty well wrapped up in herself, 
 and her own enjoyment of minute to minute ? 
 Of course, she has an immense admiration for 
 him ; but it seems to me as if it were more 
 the artist she admired ; she is proud of his 
 position, and his advice, and his care of her, 
 as well she might be." 
 
 " But what is to come of it all ! " the elder 
 woman exclaims — and this is no new cry of 
 hers. " Oh, I cannot believe it ! The position 
 those two hold to each other is far too clearly 
 defined for any such possibility ; in her mind, 
 at all events, it is defined clearly and 
 absolutely ; hasn't she talked about it with 
 sufficient frankness ? No ; really I thought 
 there was something almost noble about her 
 w T hen she first spoke to me about it ; she 
 seemed to see what was demanded of her ; 
 she seemed to rise to something finer than 
 the gratification of her own immediate whims, 
 and the flattery of every one who comes near
 
 232 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 her. And why shouldn't he take her at her 
 word ? He declares that her intellect is 
 downright and uncompromising ; she scorns 
 illusions ; this exalted companionship of theirs, 
 when she grants it to him, is granted with 
 full and accurate knowledge ; there are no 
 hazy possibilities of perilous sentiment hang- 
 ing about in the background. Do you think 
 he does not understand all that ? " 
 
 " I can see what his eyes say," Peggy makes 
 answer, stubbornly. " Until to-day I might 
 have doubted — now I cannot." 
 
 But the elder woman shakes her head. 
 
 " No, no ; the whole situation is dangerous 
 enough without that. And it is about 
 Wolfenberg that I am concerned : I think the 
 young woman can take care of herself. And 
 yet again if it should turn out that we have 
 been speculating, and alarming ourselves 
 without cause — or if something were to 
 happen " 
 
 " I know what would happen in a book or
 
 FACING CONTINGENCIES. 233 
 
 a play,"' says Peggy. " That dreadful woman 
 over there in America would die. But in 
 actual life the objectionable people are a long 
 time in dying ; and in the meanwhile the 
 other people, who may have been waiting, 
 have growm old." 
 
 " You have no right to look forward and 
 count on anyone's death ! " says Mrs. Three- 
 penny-bit, with a touch of asperity. " It is 
 inhuman — unnatural — no matter what has 
 happened." And then, after a bit, she adds : 
 " Don't you think, Peggy, that it would be a 
 little more just to both Wolfenberg and Amelie 
 Dumaresq if we accepted their own account of 
 the relationship that exists between them — 
 which is the only relationship that can exist 
 between them ? " 
 
 " But even then ? " says Peggy. " Again 
 and again you yourself have put the question : 
 what guarantee is there that such a relation- 
 ship should last ? What is the bond between 
 them ? It is an ideal situation, no doubt ;
 
 234 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 demanding self-sacrifice and constancy ; and 
 it may look beautiful at the moment ; but 
 what safeguard is there against all the tempta- 
 tions and incomprehensible vagaries of human 
 nature ? " 
 
 (i Poor Wolfe nberg ! " said the elder woman, 
 absently ; the future seemed dark and enig- 
 matical enough to her, so far as those two 
 were concerned. 
 
 Now the morning of our last day at Athens 
 was particularly bright, and busy, and cheer- 
 ful. " Phaleron's wave " is clear : looking over 
 the side into those green deeps, we could 
 vaguely make out objects at the bottom, though 
 we w T ere anchored in six fathoms of water ; 
 while farther off the glassy surface, in the full 
 glare of the sun, reflected the long lateen sails 
 and the white-painted feluccas with a vividness 
 bewildering to the eyes. And here was our 
 indefatigable Sappho, bustling about with a 
 great sheet of paper in her hand, and eagerly 
 begging for signatures. It appeared that her
 
 FACING CONTINGENCIES. 235 
 
 soul had been fairly riven within her by the 
 thought that English hands had harried the 
 shrines of ancient Greece ; and nothing would 
 do but a passionate appeal, on the part of us 
 Orotanians, to the British Government, praying 
 that the Elgin marbles should forthwith be 
 restored. It was an eloquent and tempestu- 
 ously-worded document, with plenty of in- 
 coherent indignation surging through it ; and 
 at the head of the sheet was the following 
 quotation : 
 
 1 Cold is the heart, fair Greece ! that looks on thee, 
 Nor feels as lovers o'er the dust they loved ; 
 Dull is the eye that will not weep to see 
 Thy walls defaced, thy mouldering shrines removed 
 By British hands, which it had best behoved 
 To guard those relics ne'er to be restored. 
 Curst be the hour when from their isle they roved, 
 And once again thy hapless bosom gored, 
 And snatch'd thy shrinking Gods to northern climes 
 abhorr'd ! ' 
 
 "Somethinged sentimental rubbish!" growled 
 the angry Major, when she had gone — and we 
 hardly knew whether he was audaciously re-
 
 236 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 f erring to the passage from Childe Harold or 
 merely expressing his opinion of Miss Penguin's 
 proposal. " Do you think the English Govern- 
 ment would listen to a handful of irresponsible 
 and impertinent busybodies ? And if these 
 mongrel modern Greeks got back the Elgin 
 Marbles, what would they do with 'em ? Why, 
 sell 'em to some Yankee hotel proprietor, 
 to stick about his staircases, alongside the 
 cuspidors ! " 
 
 By the way, we never learned what number 
 of signatures Sappho obtained for her petition ; 
 nor did we ever subsequently hear of its having 
 appeared in the newspapers. Perhaps, indeed, 
 at some odd moment, Phaon may have eaten 
 it, so inscrutable are the decrees of fate and 
 the moods of a dog's appetite. 
 
 Our last day at Athens. Of course, we 
 made our way back again to the Acropolis. 
 And as we were toiling up the steep hill we 
 chanced to notice the solitary figure of a man 
 who was coming down from the scarred and
 
 FACING CONTINGENCIES. 237 
 
 bouldered heights of Areopagus. No doubt he 
 had wandered up thither to have a look at the 
 wide-scattered city lying far below, with its 
 red-tiled roofs and cypress-gardens. 
 
 " It is Wolfenberg ! " said Mrs. Threepenny- 
 bit, with some surprise. " And alone ! Why 
 — surely, the others cannot have gone any- 
 where without him." And when she spoke of 
 " the others " we knew she was thinking of 
 three. 
 
 " Oh, no, impossible ! " said Peggy, in an 
 undertone, for now he was drawing near. 
 
 But when he came up, we found he had no 
 tragic tale of desertion to tell. He seemed in 
 fairly good spirits. Mrs. Dumaresq had pre- 
 ferred to remain indoors this morning ; she 
 feared the heat ; and she wanted a little rest. 
 Nor did Amelie care to stir out. She had 
 been making some purchases of millinery ; and 
 wished to get her things put in order before 
 returning to the boat. So he had come 
 wandering away by himself, counting on find-
 
 238 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 ing us somewhere about the Acropolis. Ac- 
 cordingly, we went on together. 
 
 But when we had got up to that lofty and 
 spacious plateau, to have a farewell look at the 
 hills and the vales, the distant sea grown pale 
 in the sunlight, and here, close at hand, the 
 splendour of the tall pillars against the lumi- 
 nous blue of the sky, it very soon became 
 obvious that Wolfenberg wished to take this 
 opportunity to say something in confidence to 
 the elder woman of our little group. They 
 strolled away by themselves, and Peggy in- 
 stinctively hung back. We saw them go 
 slowly and still more slowly, apparently en- 
 gaged in earnest conversation, until they 
 stopped together — the two small figures out 
 yonder on the plain of tumbled fragments and 
 dusty weeds. Peggy was silent for a second 
 or two ; then she said — 
 
 " I think he means to speak to her about 
 the Eussian. And I am glad of it. He ought 
 to have some confidante. Don't you think he
 
 FACING CONTINGENCIES. 239 
 
 is in the strangest and saddest position ? Mrs. 
 Dumaresq is frightened to say anything to him 
 about what has happened recently : do wonder. 
 She is quite useless and helpless with an 
 absolute and self-willed girl like that ; and she 
 is mortally afraid of doing or saying anything 
 that may offend either Wolfenberg or her 
 daughter." She glanced round her musingly. 
 " Isn't it curious to think what various things 
 have happened to individual human beings, up 
 here on this hill, through all the centuries 
 since those stones were carved ? And now we 
 have come to the very latest — the two people 
 over yonder, in modern European dress, stand- 
 ing talking to each other. It seems common- 
 place, doesn't it ; and yet it might turn out 
 
 to be something tragic enough " She 
 
 suddenly broke off, and changed her tone. 
 " No, no, I'm going to shut my eyes, and 
 become optimist. I'm going to look forward 
 to Amelie Dumaresq herself dispersing away 
 all these doubts and fears. That is what she
 
 2+o WOLFENBERG. 
 
 is going to do. The opportunity is before her. 
 She is going to astonish us, and charm us, and 
 make us all ashamed of ourselves, by showing 
 herself nothing less than a thorough heroine ! " 
 
 Meanwhile, whatever problem of human 
 destiny or human character those two were 
 discussing together, they were a long time 
 engaged in it ; so that the rest of us — in- 
 cluding the Baby and Julian Verrinder, whose 
 acquaintance with each other seemed to have 
 developed with some rapidity — had abundant 
 leisure for our final look round ; and at length, 
 when we all of us prepared to leave, Peggy's 
 last word — as she glanced back to the beauti- 
 ful temples all shattered and ruined — was 
 this — 
 
 " Well, Athens did much for the Gods ; but 
 the Gods never seem to have done much for 
 Athens." 
 
 Now hardly had the Orotania got under 
 weigh again when two of us received a 
 summons to go to Mrs. Threepenny-bit's
 
 FACING CONTINGENCIES. 241 
 
 cabin. The little woman appeared to be 
 rather nervous and excited : it was clear she 
 had something of importance to communicate. 
 " We had a long talk up there," she said 
 (and well we knew of whom she was speaking), 
 "and never shall I forget it as long as I live. 
 I had some admiration for that man before ; 
 but now — now that he has quite revealed him- 
 self — I dare hardly say what I think of him. 
 And there is no secret about it ; he spoke 
 quite frankly ; he told me, in his simple and 
 direct way, that we must all of us have seen 
 the favour that Amelie was showing to this 
 young Russian ; and he hoped it would turn 
 out for the best. It was but natural, he said. 
 She was a young woman, with a fresh and 
 eager and impulsive enjoyment of the world 
 and all its interests : who could wonder if the 
 passion of love came in to play its part, and 
 lead on to marriage, and a happy settlement 
 of her life? And when I interposed, and 
 spoke of himself, I wish you could have heard 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 what he answered. Not that I forget a single 
 word ; but that there was something so noble, 
 so simple, so unreserved in the very manner 
 in which he put himself out of the question 
 altogether. He was not to be thought of. 
 His was a broken life altogether, he said. If 
 this new interest that appeared to have come 
 into her existence was likely to secure her 
 happiness, that was everything.'' 
 
 The person who was telling us these things 
 is not of a very emotional nature ; but, all the 
 same, her lashes grew moist ; and she furtively 
 drew a finger- tip across her eyes. 
 
 " I thought his careworn face looked really 
 beautiful as he was speaking," she went on, 
 with an intensity of sympathy that caused her 
 own voice to vibrate at times. " There seemed 
 to me a kind of sanctity of renunciation in it ; 
 and a calmness, too, as though he had been 
 contemplating this possibility not for the first 
 time. He would hardly refer to himself at all. 
 I had to do that. I confess I am a good deal
 
 FACING CONTINGENCIES. 243 
 
 more concerned about him than about her. 
 But what he said was this : ' I put myself 
 aside altogether. I had indulged a foolish 
 dream : it must go, if there is need for it to 
 go. "Why not ? What man has borne, man 
 can bear ; a sharp pang or two, and life grown 
 a little greyer ; but the years will go by all 
 the same/ And again he said — but I wish 
 you could have seen the strange expression of 
 his face, in its calm heroism of resignation : 
 he said — 'What right had I to think that a 
 beautiful young creature like that, full of life 
 and the enjoyment of life, should check the 
 natural current of her existence — even for the 
 sake of her art ? I was wrong even there. 
 If she must give up her work ; if marriage is 
 the one thing to secure her happiness — so be 
 it. But at all events do not think that she has 
 broken any understanding, or betrayed any- 
 body, or done anything but what is perfectly 
 right and straightforward and honest. She 
 knows what I care most for — it is to see her
 
 244 WOLFENBERG. 
 
 perfectly happy : that being secured, my small 
 affairs can shift for themselves.' " 
 
 "And about Hitrovo ? " Peggy asked. 
 
 " Yes, that was his chief anxiety, his sole 
 anxiety," her friend continued. " And I told 
 him frankly that Mrs. Dumaresq had spoken 
 to us ; and that she was very much concerned ; 
 and that we had promised to make inquiries 
 at Constantinople. But do not imagine it was 
 to provoke suspicion, or to ask me to caution 
 Amelie, that Wolfenberg came to me. Quite 
 the reverse. He had nothing but commenda- 
 tion for the young Eussian. He said it was 
 so natural that Amelie should be attracted by 
 him — his singularly good looks — his pleasant 
 manner — his desire to please " 
 
 " Oh, if he takes it in that way, I am so 
 glad," Peggy exclaimed, quite effusively. " I 
 had been fearing such terrible things. I pitied 
 him so ! " 
 
 " Peggy," said the smaller woman, " Ernest 
 Wolfenberg has not got that firm mouth for
 
 FACING CONTINGENCIES. 245 
 
 nothing. Do you think lie cannot bring him- 
 self to face the inevitable — if it should turn 
 out to be the inevitable ? And of one thing 
 you may be sure : Amelie Dumaresq will never 
 know, she will never be allowed to know, what 
 is going on in that man's heart, so long as he 
 sees her happy, and beloved, and content." 
 She paused for a moment or two ; then she 
 said — " Well, that poor woman, Mrs. Dumaresq, 
 has made a direct appeal to us. Perhaps we 
 may hear something in Constantinople." 
 
 And so, as the evening came along, we made 
 our way down towards Cape Colonna ; and 
 then the dusk fell ; and the dark ; and there- 
 after we went thundering onwards through 
 the night. 
 
 END of vol. 1. 
 
 LONDON : PRINTED BY "WILLIAM CLOTVES AND SONS, LIMITED, 
 STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS.
 
 ^ir^g£
 
 Talks in a Library. Putnam* 
 
 JO ANDERSON, MARY ANDER50N, AND WILLIAM BLACK.