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Page 8
The next morning was a momentous one. In the early sunshine the ship
entered the Bay of Gibraltar and anchored for several hours. Boats took
the passengers to visit the town, and to Barbara and Bettina the supreme
moment of travel in a foreign country had arrived; that in which they
found another land and first touched it with their feet; and entering
the streets found strange people and listened to a foreign tongue.
They drove through the queer, narrow, crooked streets, out upon the
"neutral ground," and up to the gardens; bought an English newspaper;
then, going back to the ship, looked up at the frowning rock threaded by
those English galleries, which, upon occasion, can pour forth from their
windows such a deadly hail.
Leaving the harbor, the ship passed slowly along between the "Pillars of
Hercules," for so many centuries the western limit of the Old World, and
entered the blue Mediterranean. And was this low dark line on the right
really Africa, the Dark Continent, which until then had seemed only a
dream--a far-away dream? What a sure reality it would ever be after
this!
Mrs. Douglas had chosen happily when she decided to land at Genoa
instead of at one of the northern ports; for aside from the fact that
the whole Atlantic passage was calmer than it otherwise could have been,
the beauty and interest of the days on the Mediterranean are almost
without parallel in ocean travel.
The magnificent snow-capped mountains of the Spanish shore; the rugged
northern coasts of the Balearic Islands; the knowledge that out just
beyond sight lies Corsica, where was born the little island boy, so
proud, ambitious, and unscrupulous as emperor, so sad and disappointed
in his banishment and death; and then the long beautiful Riviera coast,
which the steamships for Genoa really skirt, permitting their
passengers to look into Nice, Bordighera, Monaco, San Remo, etc., and to
realize all the picturesque beauty of their mountain background--all
this gave three enchanting days to our little party before the ship
sailed into the harbor of Genoa, _La Superba_, a well-merited title.
The city seemed now like a jewel in green setting, as its softly colored
palaces, rising terrace above terrace, surrounded by rich tropical
foliage, glowed in the rays of the setting sun.
Here Mrs. Douglas was to meet her brother; and she, Malcom, and Margery
were full of eager excitement. It was hard to wait until the little
crowd of people collected on the wharf should separate into distinct
individuals.
"There he is! there is Uncle Robert! I see him!" cried Malcom. "He is
waving his handkerchief from the top of his cane!"
While Mrs. Douglas and Margery pressed forward to send some token of
recognition across the rapidly diminishing breadth of waters, Barbara
and Bettina sought with vivid interest the figure and face of one whom
they remembered but slightly, but of whom they had heard much. Robert
Sumner was a name often mentioned in their home for, as a boy, and young
man, he had been particularly dear to Dr. Burnett and had been held up
as a model of all excellence before his own boys.
Some six years before the time of our story he was to marry a beautiful
girl, who died almost on the eve of what was to have been their
marriage-day. Stunned by the affliction, the young artist bade good-by
to home and friends and went to Italy, feeling that he could bear his
loss only under new conditions; and, ever since, that country had been
his home. He had travelled widely, yet had always returned to Italy.
"Next year I will go back to America," he had often thought; but there
was still a shrinking from the coming into contact with painful
associations. Only his sister and her children were left of the home
circle and it were happier if they would come to him; so he had stayed
on, a voluntary exile.
Not yet thirty years of age, he looked even younger as with shining eyes
he watched the little group on the deck of the big approaching
steamship. Of the strength of his affections no one could be doubtful
who witnessed his warm, passionate embraces when, after long delay, the
ship and shore were at last bound together.
"And can these be the little Barbara and Betty who used to sit on my
knees?" he asked in wonder, as Mrs. Douglas drew forward the tall girls
that they might share in his greeting.
"I thought I knew you, but am afraid we shall have to get acquainted
all over again."
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