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Page 72
Thus he lived on from day to day, remembering and yearning and
dreaming,--the ocean yawning between him and his love. Concealed in
the depths of his soul, there was, however, a hope fondly cherished,
and a purpose half formed.
A few weeks after the reception of Mr. Norton's letter, the Count de
Rossillon died. Sitting, as usual, in his great purple-cushioned
arm-chair, taking his afternoon nap, he expired so gently that Mrs.
Dubois, who was reading by the window, did not know, or even suspect,
when the parting between spirit and body occurred. Kindly, genial, and
peaceful had been his last years, and his life went out calmly as the
light of day goes out amid the mellow tints of a pleasant autumn
sunset.
When Mrs. Dubois went to arouse him from what seemed an unusually long
slumber, she found a volume of F�n�lon spread open upon his knee, and
turning it, her eye ran over passages full of lofty and devout
aspiration. These, probably expressed the latest thoughts and desires
of the good chevalier, for as she looked from the pages to his face,
turned upward toward the ceiling, a smile of assent and satisfaction
was still lingering there, although his breath had departed and his
pulse was still.
Mrs. Dubois stooped to kiss the forehead of her uncle, but started
back with a sudden thrill of fear. She gazed searchingly at him for a
moment, and then she knew that Death, the conqueror, stood there with
her, looking upon his completed work.
After the first shock of surprise was over, she remained gazing upon
the spectacle in perfect silence. A truly devout Catholic, in her
grief she leaned with all a woman's trust and confidingness upon the
love and power of Christ, and something of the divine calmness which
we associate with the character of the mother of our Lord, and which
has been so wonderfully depicted to the eye by some of the older
painters, pervaded her spirit.
As she thus stood, spellbound, entranced, her eyes fixed upon the
noble features irradiated with a smile of content and peace, the long
silvery locks parted away from the forehead and flowing around the
head, like a halo, she thought it the countenance of a saint, and her
poetic fancy created at once a vision of the Saviour, with an aspect
grand, glorious, yet gracious and benign, placing with His right hand
a golden jewelled crown upon her uncle's head. A cloud swept up over
the gorgeous earthliness of the great Rubens picture, and from out its
folds shone sweet and smiling angel faces, looking down upon the
scene.
Mrs. Dubois never knew how long she remained thus absorbed. She was
first aroused by hearing a voice saying, in tones of fervor, "How
blessed it is to die!" And Ad�le, who had entered the room a little
time before, and had uttered these words, stepped forward and
imprinted a kiss upon the pale uplifted brow of the sleeper.
CHAPTER XXVI.
POMPEII.
About this period, Mrs. Lansdowne, whose health had been declining for
nearly a year, was urgently advised by her physician to seek a milder
climate. John immediately offered himself as her _compagnon de
voyage_, and manifested great alacrity in the preparations for their
departure for Italy.
After a favorable sea passage, they landed at Civita Vecchia, and,
with brief delays at Rome and Naples, went to Sorrento, intending to
remain there several months.
This place combines the most striking peculiarities of Italian
scenery. It stands on a wide and beautiful plain, shut in by the
mountains and the sea. The fertile soil produces oranges, lemons,
grapes, and figs of the richest quality and in great abundance. The
coast line, a wall of volcanic rock, is broken into varied forms, by
the constant action of the waters. Here, they spent day after day,
rambling about the old town, making excursions into the neighboring
mountains, or crossing the bay to different points of interest. They
delighted particularly in sailing under the shadow of the cliffs,
watching the varying colors, blue, purple, and green, presented by the
glassy surface, peering into the arched caverns, worn into the rock
by the waves, and looking upward at the gay profusion of wild flowers,
which, growing in every crevice, adorned its face with beauty. From
the balcony of the house they occupied, they looked upon gardens,
invisible from the street, so closely were they walled in from the
view of the passer by, and beheld orange and lemon trees, with rounded
tops of dark green foliage, golden fruit, and snowy blossoms. The soft
air permitted them to sit during the evenings and listen to the
whisper of the sea on the beach, to watch the sails of the fishing
vessels gleaming in the moonlight, and gaze at the dark form of
Vesuvius, with his lighted torch, brooding at a distance, over the
scene.
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