Jul i vis (Chambers THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES GIFT OF Carleton Shay The Destiny of Doris BOOKS BY MR. CHAMBERS On A MARGIN: A NOVEL OF W ll Street. (11TH Edition J A It AD WORLD AND ITS PEOPLE (reprint OF LO >idon Edition. ) LOV ERS FOUR AND Ma DENS Fl VE. (26TH T.HOU9 AND.) In SARGASSO: A ROM ANCE - THE MlD- Atlan TIC. Th! RASCAL CL JB; OR THE BOYS OF G.RAFF E. (2D EDIT ON. Tm DESTINY OF DO R.S. ( 10TH Thou- SAND. BEN JAMIN NORTH OF NORTF Valley; a Study IN HEREDITY. ( N PRESS .) e? (Yergaf) *0) <&^-j^ >^o *v^*X v^ fcXC>u_. FROM A PHOTOGRAPH BY DAVIS & SANFORD The Destiny of Doris A Travel-Story of Three Continents By JULIUS CHAMBERS Illustrated 1 90 1 CONTINENTAL PUBLISHING CO. 24 Murray Street, New York Copyright, 1901, by Continental Publishing Co. « THE PEQUOD PRESS NEW YORK V CL- Contents Chapter Page I. Reversing a Rule 9 II. Flying the Blue Hawk 21 I II. The "Gib" and the "Med." 29 IV. A Reawakened People $7 V. The Arab at His Best 44 VI. The Arab in His Wane 63 VII. True to Prophecy 78 VIII. A False Oracle 93 IX. Disappointments of a Mummy 110 X. Master of His Fate 125 XI. On the Sacred Isle 148 XII. In a Temple Bazaar 159 XIII. Under the Southern Cross 174 XIV. Under the Holy Cross 193 XV La Bella Napoli 215 XVI. Ambition Dead and Buried 231 XVII. Our Debt to Paganism 244 XVIII. A City ok Palaces 26 r XIX. The World of Chance 274 XX. Home of the Lombard Kinds 291 XXI. The Winged Lion 303 XXII. Older than RoxMe 313 XXIII. A Quatrain of Destiny 324 XQ PONTA DELGADA, THE PRETTY CAPITAL OF ST. MICHAEL Chapter One Reversing a Rule ST. MICHAEL, prettiest of the Azores group, lay half a mile away ; and though but a dot of green amid the ocean blue, this volcanic isle made glad my heart as if it had been a continent, harboring a hundred cities. I was leaving sullen January skies at New York, for the sun-lands of the Mediterranean. The voyage had begun auspiciously : for I had found on board ship a friend long lost to me. Our surprise was mutual. We had parted in anger ; but time had weakened my resent- ment, and widowhood had lessened her indifference. The formalities of reviving a dead friendship had been soon overcome, and Mrs. Wentworth and I had passed many hours together on deck. We had known each other since the early seventies: our parents had been neighbors on Murray Hill, our fathers fast friends. A common danger in trade had 9 io The Destiny of Doris cemented a brotherhood between them like that of Athos and Porthos. Their Sunday mornings had been passed together; while our mothers attended church, they smoked each other's cigars, and drank each other's whis- key. Alas ! they went to the same heaven, I hope ; for two truer men of their time and generation never lived. Louise Post had been the only girl among my acquaint- ances who had preferred to take a husband from the foreign nobility rather than to marry a fellow-country- man ; and her decision had fallen heavily upon me. Af- ter twenty years in England, as the wife of Lord John Wentworth, youngest son of the Duke of Gaster, she had returned to her native land — four years prior to this unexpected meeting — a widow, with a daughter of six- teen. Louise's father left several millions ; mine a member- ship in the Stock Exchange. As his only heir, I bid in the seat, secured an election, took a capitalist for part- ner, and, in a few years, grew rich. All my thoughts had been devoted to money-making. I had had no time or inclination to attempt a second wooing. That Mrs. "Jack" Wentworth, as she was generally known (contrary to conventionality), was still beautiful did not admit of dispute ; and never were her charms more emphasized than when the tall, young girl, Doris, stood beside her. Mature beauty did not suffer by com- parison with that of youth. Only this morning had Mrs. Wentworth become con- fidential, as we sat on deck. "There is no mystery in the Wentworth family," she began. "After I married Jack and went to England, H i 1 ■**» '': 1 ■*■ i ■ .' ■Mi : MM* 31; : r J 1 "' 1 flfi£c^ HORTA. ON THE ISLAND OF FAYAL, WHICH IS IN CLOSE COMMERCIAL TOUCH WITH NEW YORK, BY CABLE AND STEAMER 12 The Destiny of Doris I liked the title of 'Lady John,' I was flattered by the social prestige of his family name, — little realizing how small a factor I was in its future. I never could be- come reconciled to the law of primogeniture ! Jack's blue blood was his chief earthly possession. The fam- ily was very noble, but deplorably poor. We — rather I — bought an old country-seat, much gone to decay, upon which I spent most of my heritage. Myerling Hall was ancient as the Norman domination, and, possessing the prettiest site in Kent, we transformed it into one of the most attractive country homes in England, — not preten- tious, you understand, but vast, roomy, and comfortable. Dear Jack had considerable taste, and he spent our money to advantage ; but during those twenty years my personal income maintained the family home." Her words recalled facts far from comforting to me, but I listened in silence. "One morning poor Jack was killed on the hunting field," continued the beautiful woman at my side, "and I found myself alone in this world, with Doris. When I say 'alone,' the word never was better used. After the funeral, I was made to feel that I wasn't of the slight- est consequence to the Wentworth family. I saved the Hall only because it was mine!" How different this woman from the girl who had made me so wretchedly unhappy! But she was more com- panionable than in the past. Our positions in life were reversed — while she had been dissipating her fortune I had earned one. "Doris was as keenly conscious of our changed posi- tion as I," continued Mrs. Wentworth, "though she gave Reversing a Rule 13 no verbal sign. I knew that in her life and mine a crisis of the gravest character had been reached ; but I deliberated long and seriously." "She who hesitates — " I began, merely to rind my voice. " — is generally saved." my companion interjected. "I haven't any sympathy with the phrase-maker who'd First Sight of Land in the Azores, Showing Feleira sacrifice a fact for the sake of an epigram. But, seri- ously, I saw that Doris' position was more unfortunate than mine. I had bought twenty years of self-adnlation, which, after all, is worth a price! In so doing, [ had impoverished my child. By her father's death, she was 1 4 The Destiny of Doris crowded out of the place that would have been hers and mine; and I had squandered the money that alone could have rehabilitated her social position. Without wealth, England had no future for her ! Only too well did I know the high esteem in which impoverished noblemen held American heiresses ! Among my ac- quaintances were many splendid English girls of good blood and superior education, wholly overlooked by the sons of noble families in their search for American money." "And you decided to transplant your family tree?" "Exactly ! I vowed to reverse the existing order of things and to find for this English girl an American husband ! The old Hall was let to an expatriated Rus- sian prince, seeking a respite from the surveillance of the secret police. I disposed of my personal property and dropped the complimentary title of 'Lady.' We returned to the home of my girlhood, where I didn't require let- ters of introduction, but only had to renew the acquain- tances of my family to secure prompt social recogni- tion. My position in Xew York was infinitely more satisfactory than clinging to the skirts of an effete aris- tocracy in London and relying upon the fast-waning memory of a dead husband for my status. The disci- pline of experience falls more heavily on woman than man," — Mrs. Wentworth was saying, when the Azores had suddenly appeared out of the haze. She didn't have to tell me the rest of this tale of a pretty woman's disillusionment. And, though we had not met up to this time. I knew Mrs. Wentworth had taken a small but comfortable house in the ultra-fash- MRS. WENTWORTH, DORIS, AND MR. NORTH, ON DECK, PLANNING THEIR TRIP THROUGH THE MEDITERRANEAN 1 6 The Destiny of Doris ionable section of New York, just off Fifth Avenue. At the expiration of her year of mourning, — carefully utilized in adding to her daughter's education, — Mrs. Went worth gave a few small dinners to which old and new friends were asked. The second winter, she and Mrs. Piney- Woods occupied a box at the opera on alternate nights. Doris went only once, during her Christmas vacation. The following summer the girl had her first look at Newport, Bar Harbor, and Lenox ; but her bow to society occurred that winter at a dinner-dance given by Mrs. Piney-Woods to her own daughter. There Doris met and took mental account of her young associates, — girls, I fancy, for she hadn't begun seriously to study men. A girl is never too young to form opinions of her own sex, nor to express them! The year that followed, Doris gave to her books. Many good schools for girls exist in the United States ; but the one she attended has no rival in what it accom- plishes for the physical and mental development of wom- en. Her mother had studied in a different school. She had married Lord John with the hope of "blazing out" a political path for her husband. In those days she be- lieved that under the magic of her inspiration he could attain any height — even the Prime Minister's bench — ; and she abandoned her hopes only when she found that Lord John had no head for politics, or for anything be- yond a horse and a good dinner. From that hour the ambition of the American wife grudgingly yielded to the lamentable indifference and mental sluggishness of her husband. Knowing the woman well, I understood her disenchantment. AZOREAN WOMEN DRAWING WATER FROM WELL IN PUBLIC SQUARE: THE WALLS ARE MADE OF LAVA-CONCRETE 18 The Destiny of Doris "Has your daughter begun her social career?" I ven- tured to ask, when the silence lengthened. "During last winter I quietly recalled Doris from school, that she might attend her first public ball, — the Patriarchs'. I venture nothing in declaring that her rugged beauty and charming manners scored a triumph. Next day she was the most talked-of girl in New York. A rivalry developed between several of my friends who hadn't daughters to exploit, to entertain the Anglo-American debutante. I accepted as her patroness the most dashing young matron in the metropolis — one whose beauty was so generally conceded that she'd never contemplate jealousy of Doris. Best of all, this choice gave no offence to the elder matrons." What a study she was ! Perhaps I was looking into her heart ; but I wasn't sure. A clever woman at forty is always a delight. What this one had described to me as "the discipline of experience" makes her tactful as the wiliest diplomatist. Instinctively, she is distrusted by a man of the world. What I hadn't divined, Louise Wentworth had vol- untarily told me. In vain I tried to solve the mystery of her sudden departure for Europe. As we rose and walked to the side of the ship, I looked into her face, and asked, "What takes you abroad?" Then I hesitated between apology and the further impudence of pressing the ques- tion. "The Czar!" exclaimed Mrs. Wentworth, with a show of mvstery, accompanied by a laugh that dispelled all fear of having given offence. "His Imperial Majesty Reversing a Rule 19 pardoned Prince Wanoffski ; the latter gave up his lease of Myerling Hall, and the income from that source sud- denly vanished. It is more economical to travel than to remain in New York and keep open house, and this is a cheerful life in which we are awakened by music and called to meals by bugle." Landing Place at Ponta Delgada •'Miss Wentworth was glad to return abroad, T sup- pose ?" "Yes; and, again, no," was the reply. "There was a man in the case, you see. Doris didn't tell me that, in so many words; but 1 have eyes. When there's a man, be wary! And yet, the way to know if a man cares for a girl is to take her away from him. Tf he be in ear- nest, we shall hear from him. Don't you think so . J " 20 The Destiny of Doris Whatever I may have intended to say was lost for want of opportunity to express it. Never had Louise Wentworth looked so charming as when standing with me by the davits of the cutter, wholly given up to the new excitement roused by the "Flying Islanders" of to-day. AZOREAN WOMEN ON THE STREET IN THEIR CAPOTES Flying the Blue Hawk Chapter Tzuo DORIS WENTWORTH, glass in hand, was surveying the beautiful landscape before her. She was a picture of the best type of mod- ern woman. Snug as a sailor lad, in a dark-blue yachting suit, the outdoor life she had led was reflected in every feature of her ruddy face. Her lips were full and ripe, her eyes lustrous brown, and a wealth of golden hair crowned her head. She was as pretty as I had thought her mother at her age. While I watched her, she was using the binoculars like a navi- gating officer, and, when I stepped to her side, she said with the vivacity of girlhood, "Surf is breaking on a pretty, white beach, at the base of a cliff— the only bit of sand in sight. Xearby are the huts of fisher-folk, their bright green boats drawn far out the water." A picture of entrancing beauty lay before us! The 21 22 The Destiny of Doris precipitous shore resembled the Palisades of our be- loved Hudson. On a high plateau, amid an exuberant wealth of Nature's green, lying between the cliff's edge and the bases of towering mountains behind, were houses of pink and white. Resplendent verdure everywhere effaced all memory of leafless trees we had left at home. Windmills swung their arms as if in welcome. So close came we to shore that the Azoreans were seen moving about the village streets, watching the strangers from across the sea. Feleira, a wee hamlet, clung like a pink and white acaleph to the verge of the precipice. What uncon- scious use of color! The greens, browns, and blues were supplied by Nature; the Azoreans affected only the brighter shades in dress and household decorations. Every garden was a flower-bed. Doris had traveled much, but this part of the globe was new. What she saw only heightened anticipations of Spain, Morocco, Italy, Egypt, and Palestine. Ponta Delgada nestled in a cove under the shadow of mountains a mile high. "I suppose the arrival of a ship is a sensational event in the Azores," suggested Doris to Philip Norton, a fellow-passenger who had lived among' the Islanders. "The Azoreans are like children who never tire of watching the sea," was his reply. "They will drop their work or leave their churches to see a passing ship. Merchants close their shops, grocers cease weighing sugar or counting eggs, and the routine of barter and sale stops. Sometimes a bell is rung at the town-hall. But I found life in this city quite enjoyable. The BOTANICAL GARDEN AT ST. MICHAEL, WHERE THE AZOREANS FIND SHELTER DURING THE HEAT OF THE AFTERNOON 24 The Destiny of Doris Azoreans are not pirates, but they capture many a stray ship on its way to the Sargasso Sea. This is the near- est port to that mysterious region." "A sea in the mid-Atlantic !" exclaimed Doris. "Just as there is 'a river in the ocean,' " rejoined Mr. Norton. "I came out here to gather salvage from that fairy-kral where all lost or forgotten ships are 'rounded up.' We hunted derelicts like game ; for, by the law of the sea, abandoned craft or cargo belongs to the finder !" "Where is this harbor of missing ships?" asked Mrs. Wentworth, turning incredulously to me. It was a happy moment, because this was a subject on which I was quite informed. For many years this un- explored expanse of calms, large in area as the State of Texas, had been my study. I had organized and financed the syndicate that had sent Mr. Norton on his highly profitable voyage. "The Sargasso Sea is the mid-Atlantic swirl, south of the Azores," I replied with confidence. "It is formed by the Gulf Stream moving eastward along its northern border and the African equatorial current surging west- ward along its southern edge. What did you find, Mr. Norton ?" "Plenty of salvage," said he. "W r e returned laden with ships' chronometers, silver-ware, and other valu- ables. The winter's work realized a net profit of more than one hundred thousand dollars." "What a weirdly interesting place !" commented Doris. "So it proved to be : in every grassy lane was a ro- mance, in every reedy cove a tragedy, and in every float- ing hulk a secret of the sea." THE OCEAN PALACE. UPON WHICH OLD FRIENDSHIPS ARE RENEWED 26 The Destiny of Doris "How many abandoned ships did you find?" was the next question. "Less than two hundred ; but the Chief of the Bureau of Navigation at Washington declares in his last report that the number of derelicts in the Sargasso Sea exceeds one thousand ! The Azoreans have a superstitious dread of the region. Their sailing vessels are small and they fear to venture far southward, lest they get inside the circle of calm, from which there is no escape except under steam." "Have the Azoreans any form of government?" "Theirs is an autonomy, acknowledging the sover- eignty of the King of Portugal," replied Mr. Norton ; "but they have their own flag, — a blue hawk on a white field." "Yes, the ensign is floating at the landing-stage, but through the glass the bird looks like one of Mother Cary's chickens," remarked Doris, still scanning the sea- port. "I must have one of those flags." Then she added : — "Why ! I can read the time o'day on the clock- tower ashore — exactly twenty minutes after one !" "Were you very lonely?" asked Mrs. Wentworth, ad- dressing "the man who'd been there." "On the contrary," was his reply. "There are good cafes, a jolly theatre, and an opera house. St. Michael doesn't seem out of the world since a cable has been laid from Lisbon." "What makes life most interesting in the Azores?" "Money!" was the prompt rejoinder. "It is a source of constant merriment — being scarce and much debased. An American eagle equals 13,480 reis ; but a Flying the Blue Hawk 27 native family will live a month on ten thousand reis! I could take a thousand dollars in American gold to Horta or Ponta Delgada, and. by judiciously lending it, live on the income." "That's a fine rock off Villa Franca!" exclaimed Dm-is, An Azorean Donkey- driver at Ponta Delgada .who, after a long survey through the glass, had con- sulted a chart on deck. "It is memorahle — a fragment of the overhanging mountains, torn away by a sudden convulsion of nature," explained our authority. "Though in dee]) water, its precipitous >ides rise a hundred feet above high tide." I recalled several rocks of similar character in the 28 The Destiny of Doris Mediterranean — at Cape Spartivento, Sardinia ; at Strom- boli, near the Strait of Messina, and a lonely islet off the southern coast of Crete, with its lighthouse 1,100 feet above water. "If I lived at Villa Franca I'd suffer constant fear that the rock might slide into its old place and blot out the city forever," mused Doris. "Your anxiety would not be unfounded in this part of the globe, where islands rise out the sea and disappear before their shores are cool enough to bear the feet of man." The vine-clad terraces of St. Michael unrolled like a panorama during that afternoon. A wagon-road clung to the monntain-side, half a mile high, and, at one place, a stone bridge of a single arch carried it across a yawn- ing chasm. Village succeeded village, and mountain followed mountain, until a rocky cliff a thousand feet high marked the land's end. We sat watching that headland until it sank into the water, much as the Azores fishermen describe the disap- pearance of the mysterious volcanic isle near Santa Maria, once charted, but not to be found to-day at sixty fathoms' depth. The Azores went to rest in their ocean-bed at early candle-light. WATER BATTERY AT GIBRALTAR, UNDER THE LION S PAW Chapter Three The " Gib" and the "Med" THE landing facilities at Gibraltar are excellent. A snug steam-launch came alongside the Trave after breakfast, and we went ashore with no more trouble than one has in cross- ing the North River on a ferry-boat. . Our tickets for Naples were stamped for a week's "stop over" at The Rock. We were under the protection of the English flag. Gibraltar, town and fortress, can be seen in the three to five hours' shore-leave that the steamers give their through passengers, but we had planned to utilize the week in visiting Andalusia and the City of Tan- gier. The village-carts are pretty, comfortable, well horsed, and cheap. Hotels are numerous, and one is ex- cellent. Shops are few and confined to one long street. "Here one gets the first sight of the Moor," says every book I have read on Gibraltar. As we shall hunt him 29 30 The -Destiny of Doris to his lair at Tangier, and study him in his days of great- ness at Granada and Cairo, we need not dwell upon him here. The Moor is a psychological paradox, — cleanly of heart, but filthy of mind ; a marvel of piety, and a para- gon of greed. Partnership in trade is unknown to him, because he lacks faith in his fellow-man. He has turned his sword into a steelyards that weighs light ! People who know him, never trust him ; those who trust him, soon know him too well. These truths apply to the in- dividual Aloor, whether you meet him in Gibraltar, at Fez, Constantine, Tunis, Cairo, Mecca, Jerusalem, Da- mascus, Smyrna, or Constantinople. Once the master of the Mediterranean, afloat and ashore, he is a vaga- bond to-day, having nothing left of his vast possessions but a patch of sand under the frowning heights of Gibel Muza, at the Gate of Hercules. Mrs. Wentworth ensconced herself at a hotel on the main street, while her daughter and I drove about the city. At the steamship office we found a cablegram ad- dressed to Mrs. Wentworth ; but after a moment's hesi- tation, Doris opened the envelope and I knew from her face that its contents pleased her. She frankly told me that Mr. Vernon Blake had sailed for Gibraltar and would arrive in a week ! What a high priestess of prophecy was Mrs. Went- worth ! She had said, "He will come !" and "he" was now on the way. I knew Blake, and his suit deserved to have Mrs. Went worth's sanction. He was a young man of wealth and untarnished name — two facts that do not always go THE GREAT ROCK FROM THE SEA; SAID TO RESEMBLE A CROUCHING LION, GUARDIAN OF BRITISH SUPREMACY 32 The Destiny of Doris together. Member of a dozen clubs, his reputation was not that of a roysterer ; heir to a fortune, he devoted nine months of every year to active work. A subsequent conversation, introduced here, will make the situation clearer. "Two men were at the wharf to say 'good-bye' to Doris," explained Mrs. Wentworth. "Mr. Blake con- trived to get a few words alone with her, and confessed he wanted to make a similar trip, but hesitated lest she might not care to see him abroad. This was Doris' answer: 'Indeed, Mr. Blake, I couldn't prevent you from going anywhere you like. Please don't consider me.' Wasn't she clever? From her words, he couldn't guess whether or not she wanted him to come. Her tact couldn't have been better." She's her mother's daughter, was my thought. Doris and I reached the entrance of the fortress, where w T e left the carriage. A very young Scotch Highlander was assigned to conduct us through the fort. "He must miss his mother, poor boy," commented Doris. The Rock was punctured with cannon, much as is a Westphalian ham with cloves. The end of each gal- lery was a bower of shrubbery ; but behind the oleanders and rhododendrons were muzzles of Whitworth and Armstrong guns, hidden like scorpions in a colored rug. We walked several miles on the sunlighted terraces or amid the shadows of rocky galleries, and finally entered a dark casemate, the only tenant of which was a breach- loading cannon, swathed in an oiled-cloth wrapper. Here was one of a series of "secret" chambers that over- OFFICIAL QUARTER OF GIBRALTAR, SHOW- ING BARRACKS AND HILL-TOP, WHERE 1 00- TON GUNS ARE MOUNTED 34 The Destiny of Doris look the Neutral Ground, across which an attack by foot- soldiers must come. Returning to town, I paid a visit to the Governor, who kindly granted permission for our party to ascend by a wire trolley to the signal station. The view from the pinnacle of the Rock was unqualifiedly grand! The Gate of Hercules stood very wide ajar! Sea- ward, lay the battle-bay of Trafalgar, where Nelson won the monument round which modern London revolves. Across the Strait was the prison-pen of Ceuta, over which will always hover the wraiths of Cuban prisoners who died therein for the cause of liberty. Westward were the waters of Gibraltar Bay ; and on its farther shore, Algeciras, with its dainty English hotel and its large bull-ring. To the north was the stretch of sand that makes a peninsula of The Rock — "No Alan's Land," while England owns these frowning battlements. Be- yond "the dead line," the wretched town of Linea — as full of smugglers as is a trnst company's office of widows. To the northeast rose the peaks of the Sierra Nevada, wearing the white fez of eternal snow, and hiding from our sight the dream-town of Granada, with its Arabian palace. At their feet, on the shore, was Malaga, the seaport of grape-land. Stretching eastward, as far as Phoenicia, spread the dimpled blue Sea of All Antiquity, every square mile of its waters having a place in the chronology of man — ■ keeper of more secrets than all the oceans ! "The Mediterranean is the greatest spectacle at Gib- raltar!" said I. The "Gib" and the "Med" 35 "And the dizzy height on which we stand, is the point from which to take a survey of the midwater that di- vided the ancient world." retorted Doris. A military estimate of Gibraltar's value should be made with entire regard for truth, rather than sentiment. Encouraged to frankness by a recent reading of I_ord View of the Rock of Gibraltar, from the Eastward Milner's "England in Egypt," I admit, as a spectacle, that the Rock is sublimely wonderful, but deny that it is a menace to anybody. Impregnable as any fortress in these days of dynamite shells it may be ; but who would want to capture it? Spain? Ah! yes; she has a senti- mental longing to repossess Gibraltar, just as she has to 36 The Destiny of Doris regain her countless lost possessions. Nobody else in Europe would take it as a gift. Gibraltar is a show place — where is enacted a constant kriegspiel — where the band plays on the Alameda every afternoon and where antiquated guns are fired at dawn and dusk to mark the coming and parting day- The brandy-and-soda is good, and the distribution of the King's coin for breakwaters, dry docks, and bull pups is enormous. Geb-el-Tarik is the greatest "bluff" in all creation ! FIRST SIGHT OF THE CAMEL, ON THE SANDY SHORE AT ALGECIRAS Chapter Four A Reawakened People SPAIN is Living- Spain once more! Thrown upon her own resources as never before, she is a nation with a purpose. The loss of her colonial possessions has aroused her peo- ple. Spain stood still two hundred years, while the rest of the world marched past. But now she has caught the step of the new century. Achievement is supplanting deterrent pride. Adversity has taught her people the necessity of individual effort. They no longer stand against the walls and cry. They have faced about. Granada, the wonder-spot of Spain, has been brought to the door of New York by direct steamship- and rail- wax-communication. Gibraltar, not Irun, has become the Xew World's gateway to the Iberian peninsula! '"There is a new hotel across the hay at Algeciras," said Mrs. Wentworth, the moment Doris and 1 reap- 37 38 The Destiny of Doris peared, "and I suggest that we go over there this after- noon, so that we shall not have to make so early a start." "If we stay in Gibraltar, we must rise before daylight," I admitted. "The idea is excellent. Let us go, by all means." Leaving our heavy baggage, we crossed the bay about 4 o'clock and were driven to one of the prettiest hotels we saw on the Mediterranean. It was like a summer resort on the New England coast. We then drove to the bull-ring. It has seating capac- ity for 10,000 people. The custodian of the place showed the arena with evident pride, and finally sold us some barbs as souvenirs. Railway management is alike in all parts of Spain. Trains always start at sun-rise, and they trifle away all the day reaching a destination. The same conditions used to exist in Cuba. Although this new road from Algeciras to Bobadilla is owned by English capitalists, the law requires that only Spanish engineers and stokers shall be employed. The line climbs the mountains through a succession of Andalusian landscapes. Ronda was in sight an hour before its station was reached. In that ancient city, the newest feature is a fifteenth-century arch across a gaping ravine in the heart of the town. Although Ronda has an elevation of half a mile, it is in a valley, amid towering mountain-heights. Here is the true home of the olive tree in Spain. Bobadilla boasts a modern restaurant, at which we were well served. After luncheon, the eastern ride to- ward "the heavenly plain of Granada" began. The rails follow the highway over which Columbus went to the A Reawakened People 39 capital of Ferdinand and Isabella, and its condition is still sufficient to delight the eye of an enthusiastic bicyclist. Antiquera, site of a long siege, clings to a stony crag, a mile from the railway. In the days of the conquest, it was a walled town. There the Christian hosts pre- pared for their advance upon the Moorish stronghold at Across the Bay is Algeciras, where A Bull-fight Every Sunday Granada. The ruins of a cathedral and a few remnants of its walls are all that remain of the ancient town. Doris watched for the Lover's Rock, and we kept it in sight for several hour*. In shape, it recalls the Maid- en's Rock in Lake Pepin, on the Upper Mississippi. When the Genii Valley was entered, the I '.ridge of 4-0 The Destiny of Doris Penas, where Columbus was overtaken by the messenger of Isabella, became the first object of interest. Disap- pointed and morose, the Italian was leaving the Spanish court, bound to England for a final argument with Henry VII. "The momentous misfortune of that meeting — por- trayed in oil on the Senate stairway of our Capitol at Washington — is beyond dispute," I commented. "I'm sorry Columbus didn't get away," was Doris' rejoinder. "England's king had already lost one opportunity to find the New World, just as nearly three hundred years later a successor of his threw away the best part of the continent that Columbus had discovered," I suggested. "True enough," admitted Doris, "but had Columbus reached London and convinced England's chuckle- headed king, the American continents would have begun their careers under English auspices instead of Spanish, and their peoples would be a hundred years ahead of where they are to-day. South America would be pros- perous and progressive, as is the northern half of the hemisphere, and all the New World would be different." The single arch of that bridge isn't much to see ; but it is a pivotal spot of modern history ! Compared with it, the bridge at Lodi, and that one on which Motley leaves his German hero, dwindles into insignificance. "The Alhambra !" exclaimed Doris, as the train swung round a curve. I had taken the precaution to seat her on the right- hand side of the car, that she might get the first glimpse of the fortress. She had guessed aright! Hovering in THE VIEW THAT ATTRACTED DORIS' ATTENTION FROM THE CAR-WINDOW — THE VERMILION TOWER 42 The Destiny of Doris mid-air, between the sparkling skyline and the dark green verdure of the plain, were the brown towers of the Al- ii am bra ! This view once seen is never forgotten. There is none like it on earth. Its harmony of color is unchangeable, because the olive and cypress are ever-faithfully green and the snowy whiteness of the mountain-tops is eternal. "The Spanish colors are floating over a large tower on the hill-side," said Doris, standing at the car-window, studying the scene. "Yes, that is the Vermillion Tower, used as a garrison for a small body of troops," I explained. "You will re- member the place as the prison of the three beautiful princesses, beloved by the three Christian knights." "To-day adds another to my collection of flags — the United States, German, Azorean, English, and Spanish," said Doris, a few minutes later. "Quite a pretty and patriotic fad, don't you think so?" "The flags of all the countries you visit will serve as an interesting souvenir of your trip." "I was here on my wedding tour," Mrs. Wentworth declared ; "but we have come to see the Alhambra, and must go to the hotel on the heights, in the garden of the fortress." Thither we drove, along avenues of towering elms and cypresses, up that haunted hill to the best hotel in Spain, sheltered amid embowering jasmines, oleanders, and lemon trees. ALONG THIS AVENUE WE DROVE TO THE HOTEL, AMID EMBOWERINC JASMINES, OLEANDERS, AND LEMON-TREES THE ALHAMBRA-HILL AND THE CATHEDRAL IN GRANADA Chapter Five The Arab at His Best WHEN the Arab felt himself secure in Spain, he folded his tent in the valley and began building castles in the air. He thought the dominion of the sword would en- dure forever ; and his belief was well founded. Toledo was a Gibraltar in its day ; Ronda was a mountain Que- bec. The Alhambra rose as a fortified place, inside which was a fairy palace. The mosques at Cordova and Se- ville, being places of worship, were builded on the plain, and the Arab encamped round about, guarding them, just as for centuries he had watched the Holy Sepulchre in Palestine ; for had not Saladin preserved the City of the Christians against the hand of Richard I. ! Washington Irving, who made the Alhambra the show- place of Europe, wrote history in his day, just as Mark Twain writes it in ours. He never failed to account for a 44 The Arab at His Best 45 fact. Given a ruin or a battle-field, he'd fit the history into one or marshal the warriors round the other. He was the kind of historian I like. He ennobled a trifling war into a great episode of history. Many years ago, I spent some time at the Alhambra, and passed whole days on top the Watch Tower, from The Gate of Justice, and the Tablet of Charles V. which nearly every battle-field can be seen, reading ''The Conquest of Granada." It is the Arab version of that war, and, in a future reincarnation, Mahomet may in- corporate much of that book in the Koran, excising chap- ters of the Arabic bible that do not rise to the level of Johnny's composition about "The Cow." Aloft on that same tower, a bell is rung at night to tell the people of 46 The Destiny of Doris Granada that the Moors have not come back to claim their own. Events less probable than the reconquest of Spain by the Moors, have occurred. Could the forces of Islam unite, the blood-red standard might again float over the Alhambra, and prophecy be fulfilled. The Moors of Granada hear in every blast that stirs the never-despair- ing cypresses, a wail — "Yerga!" ("We'll come back!") The Alhambra crowns a spur of the Sierra Nevada, which leaves the sterile foot-hills and plunges into a lux- uriantly verdant plain. Embracing this rocky crag — much as the Ottoman crescent clutches its star — is the city of Granada, half -Moorish, half-Iberian. A strong wall originally surmounted the crest of this mountain, serving as a primary defence for the stronger citadel, which held the palace as a jewel in its case; but many of the twenty towers and most of the walls are gone. The Vermillion bastion, far apart from the main work, is the most imposing evidence of former strength and grand- uer. The inner fortress, or alcazar, which we have come to see, crowns the northeast side of a ravine that cleaves the hill in twain. It had its own system of walls, towers, and bastions. Several gates originally pierced its sides, of which that called Justice alone remains. During the eighteenth century vandal-hands cut a car- riage roadway through the sandstone battlemented- walls. The Arab boldly built his citadels without or- namentation, but when he undertook to rear a mosque or palace, he became a toymaker in archi- tecture. Ruin though it was, when first studied, HEIGHTS BEHIND THE ALHAMBRA. WITH SIERRA NEVADAS, SHOWING RELATIVE POSITION OF THE SUMMER PALACE, THE GENERALIFE 48 The Destiny of Doris the Alhambra is the acknowledged inspiration of a distinct school of architectural art. With all outdoors to draw from, the Arab builder needed little space for the sensuous luxury of his habitation. He con- secrated its interior to the indulgences of the flesh, but dedicated the exterior to the glory of Allah. Heartless in war, the Arab thought himself tender in love. It is quite possible to gain a general idea of the Al- hambra in a single visit. Subsequently, each court and garden may be studied in detail. Nobody knows what kind of an entrance the palace originally had, because it was destroyed by the vandalism of Charles V., to make room for his monstrous bull-ring house. That it was small and unimposing, may be assumed from the stealth of the Arab nature. Through a portal narrow as the vision of an odalisk, Mrs. Wentworth, Doris, and I left Gothic Spain behind and passed into a dreamland of Saracenic art. The series of visions that followed may be poorly set to words : The Court of Myrtles, with its transparent tank, served as a corridor to the Hall of the Ambassadors, to- ward which we advanced slowly and in awed wonder- ment, as many others had done before. Upon the lintel of its doorway, in graceful Arabic script, were the words : "I take refuge in the God of Dawn." A few steps, and we stood upon the blue-tiled center-piece of the Audience Chamber. Everywhere the silence of death ! But those walls had resounded to the echoes of violent human speech. Here was uttered the defiance of Muley-Hassan, which proved to be the first incident of Moorish downfall. On this spot, at a later day, Boabdil agreed to surrender The Arab at His Best 49 Granada, amid the taunts and jeers of his counselors. Columbus stood upon these same pale-blue tiles while making his final, earnest plea to Isabella and Ferdinand, — enthroned before him, — c raving the privilege of m akin g their names immortal ! Standing in the em- brasure of the central window, we gazed out and downward at the noisy Darro ; then in and upward at the stal- actite-ceiling, curious as the roof of a mosque. Leaving the Audi- ence Hall, we retrav- ersed the myrtle-em- bowered pathway, and a door that once held a silken curtain ushered us into the Court of Lions, a true parallelo- gram of two squares, containing the finest handiwork of the race of Hagar. Never was beauty better idealized. All the cupolas of its stalactite-canopied galleries differ in ornamentation; and yet the symmetry of the whole is perfect. So iden- tified with romance was this court, that the sleepy mon- A Gipsey Prince, who was Fortuny's Model. 50 The Destiny of Doris grel lion-cubs, huddling tail to tail under the marble bowl in its center, did not evoke a smile. Ascending two steps, our feet trod the spot where the gallant Abencerrages lost their heads — one by one, as they passed beyond heavy draperies, which stifled their death-gurgles. "It was a pretty place in which to die — one of the choicest in the castle," I commented, as we passed to the Hall of Justice. "This was a very small court room," said Mrs, Went- worth. "Justice was dangerous to seek, and was dispensed with a promptitude that chilled the enthusiasm of liti- gants," I explained. In the Court of the Captive was found the absolutely idyllic. It was the entrance to the harem, and it still breathed of love and tragedy. Its crenelated windows gave upon a dainty garden, green and yellow with bearing lemon trees. Here was wantonness spiritualized, — made divine. The interior of this small apartment is like a white orchid. Here stood the great vase of the Alhambra, now removed. It held a hundred gallons of ottar of roses ! The passage leading to the apartments occupied by Washington Irving is known as the Nest of Lindaraxa. Its skylights are the finest in the palace. Here is always twilight, tempered by the glow of stained-glass rays, showered upon a black-and-white mosaic floor. I sat down upon a window ledge ; and the memory of those minutes of silent meditation will go with me to another world. COURT OF THE CAPTIVE ; ITS CRENE- LATED WINDOWS LOOK UPON THE GARDEN OF LINDARAXA 52 The Destiny of Doris Looking toward its fountain, which has ceased to play, or studying the greens and yellows of its thriving trees, was an ecstatic dream of sensuous life, — all ours for the time, because not a disturbing sound was heard. "Some people write books to show how learned they are," said Doris, as we left the palace in the same stealthy manner we had entered it. "If you want to assume a wisdom you don't possess, give a few hours to Doctor Contreras' monograph on 'The Arabic Monuments of Granada, Seville, and Cor- dova,' or 'Conde's History of the Arabs in Spain,' and you can mouthe with the learned gravity of an archaeol- ogist," I replied, leading the way to the Watch Tower to inspect the Bell of the Bridal Wish. When Granada's fortress was occupied by the Chris- tian troops of Ferdinand, a fear existed that the Moor would suddenly reappear. Signal-stations were built on every mountain-top between the Great Sea and the Genile Valley, so that the landing of the Infidel would be promptly announced. An alarm-bell was raised on the foremost outpost of the fortress, and was tolled during the darkness, to reassure the trembling Spaniards in the city below. No doubt it would have been violently rung had unfavorable news arrived ; but silence the Christian conquerors could not endure. A custom thus begun continued for three hundred years. In the last cen- tury, the uselessness of tolling the bell after nightfall be- came manifest to the custodian of the tower, and, fearing she'd lose her job, she ascribed to the bell a miraculous power for providing husbands to maidens who rang it with their knuckles. The idea developed into a domestic TOWER OF THE SULTANA : BALCONY ON RIGHT BELONGED TO SUITE OCCUPIED BY WASHINGTON IRVING 54 The Destiny of Doris superstition. Every girl in Andalusia believed the bell in- fallible, and the custodian was kept busy conducting credulous young women to the tower-top. As a notice of continued possession, the bell lapsed into desuetude; but as a match-maker, its fame and popularity increased prodigiously. The oracle hangs nine feet above the tiled roof. A ladder is necessary to reach it. and ladders cost money in Spain — as elsewhere. Hence an income of 5,000 pesetas per year to the custodian of the Vela Tower! What had been the poorest post of duty in the castle be- came the most remunerative. When we reached the roof of the tower, I noticed glances of recognition exchanged between Doris and the woman who guided us up the stairs. — Doris had in- voked the oracle before her mother was awake ! When Mrs. Wentworth learned the fact, she was speechless with surprise. Her daughter took up a small ladder, left on the roof since her earlier visit, placed it against the cross-beam, and, bounding up the rounds, struck the bell with her knuckles loudly enough to startle the devotees in the convent across the Darro. Mrs. Wentworth didn't approve of the freak, but when she began to chide her daughter in my presence, Doris treated the matter lightly. "Don't be unreasonable, mother," she said. "I am not a believer in charms : but if this bell works a miracle in my case, I shall be converted." "I'm astonished!" exclaimed the matron. "Such be- havior isn't like you, Doris." "Perhaps I was a trifle too anxious to test the potency VISTA FROM THE GATE OF THE CENERALIFE, ACROSS ITS BEAUTIFUL GARDEN, TO PIC- TURE GALLERY BEYOND 56 The Destiny of Doris of this bell. Indeed, mother, you might take a chance yourself." "That will do, Doris I" said Mrs. Wentworth, abruptly ; but the girl rattled on, obviously to forestall comment upon her own conduct. "You are right, mamma; this bell is not for widows." Turning to me, she added, "I wonder if bachelors, as well as maidens, may appeal to it? Shall I ask the old woman, Mr. North?" Divining the motive for her bantering manner, I en- couraged her. "It might be well for me to inquire," I said, with af- fected seriousness. "Opportunities like this do not occur every day." Doris turned to the ancient Spanish dame, who re- garded the scene with folded arms, and tried her best class-room Castillian. The Andalusian matron shook her head gravely and said : "Alas! the charm is not for men, and never provided a second husband." "Have you tried it yourself?" asked Doris, audaciously. "Yes, little lady." replied the woman, courtesying, as her face developed a flush like mahogany when rubbed with an oiled rag; "and it failed." To address a heroically built girl like Doris as "seno- rita" seemed a weakness of the language, but, in the mer- riment of the moment, we let it pass, paid our fee, and went to the hotel for luncheon. An hour later, we walked up the road to a pretty Moorish villa on a mountain-spur outside the fortifica- tions. Irving is responsible for designating the Gener- ONE OF THE BEAUTIFUL COURTS OF THE ALHAMBRA. WITH ITS BLOSSOMING PLANTS AND FOUNTAIN 58 The Destiny of Doris alife as a summer residence of the Sultan. It is prob- ably a more recent structure. The approach is through an elm-bordered road — similar to that by which we sub- sequently entered the beautiful villa of the Generalife's owner, Marquis di Pallavicini, at Pegli, on the Mediter- ranean. The gurgle of running water was always in our ears. Boxwood and orchids ornamented the dainty garden inside the gate, and the view of Granada from its balconies was the best found anywhere. Of course we were shown the "Tree of the Sultana," under which Irving declares one of the Moorish kings surprised a faithless spouse in the arms of a slave. It is a giant cypress and upon its trunk many silly people had cut their names. Descending the hill to the town, we sought out the Cathedral and entered the crypt, where, side by side, are the veritable coffins of Ferdinand and Isabella. There, too, reposed the demented Juana and her husband, Philip ; but the family-tie hardly justified their intrusion in such a presence. What a sarcasm of fate that the bones of Juana and Philip should have been preserved, and the grave of Co- lumbus be in doubt! The grateful people of Granada have given Columbus a fine monument on the Alameda, though Isabella dominates the group. An early start was made next morning for Seville, and a day of sunshine was passed in the City of the Guad- alquivir, before whose Tower of Gold Julius Ca?sar an- chored his ships. The Moors made Seville beautiful. The Arabic Alcazar does not suffer by comparison with the Gothic Cathedral, which has its only rival at Milan. STREET SCENE IN SEVILLE, SHOWING A GRANDEE OF SPAIN GOING FOR A DRIVE ALONG THE GOLDEN RIVER 60 The Destiny of Doris The Giralda Tower is the best part of the Cathedral — it was a Moorish Minaret. But when the bigoted Isa- bella drove out the Arabs, the City of Delight became the City of Superstition. Seville is twice the size of Granada, and, as a dwelling place, is as ideal as its title of "Most Noble, Loyal, Heroic, and Unconquerable Seville." The true Andalusian hails from the banks of the Guadalquivir. The race that em- bellished Seville, engrafted upon its language all the Oriental hyperbole of its own tongue. Sky, sunshine, flowers, painting, music, and religion are of the same family as Seville. Whatever were the accomplishments of the past, beg- ging is the fine art of the present. Nowhere in all Eu- rope does mendicity flourish as there. Life sits lightly upon the soberest shoulders. Men, women, and girls are purveyors of gossip, and Seville of to-day is as full of jealousy and scandal as was Florence in the days of Boccaccio. Nowhere on the peninsula do the women wear the mantilla so gracefully, and the viva- cious olive-skinned beauties have eyes that would lead a saint to perdition. One must go to Seville to under- stand Carmen. We saw many Carmens at the cigar- ette factory, and felt as if Merimee had preceded us only a single day. The Cathedral is the glory of Christian Spain ; its sacristy is made heaven-like by canvasses of the incom- parable Murillo. In its nave is the memorial to Ferdi- nand Columbus, son of the discoverer, whereon we read the familiar words : "A Castilla y a Leon Nuevo Mundo dio Colon." But we liked best of any single object in The Arab at His Best 61 Seville the Arab muezzin-minaret in gold and gray, — the Giralda Tower. It cannot be likened to anything on earth, except its poor imitation in New York. ( )nc might ride a horse nearly to its top, as at the campanile of St. Mark's in Venice. The figure of Faith, turning with every change of wind, gives it name— the Tower of the Weather-cock. The Alcazar is the grandest remaining specimen of Arabic art in Spain, because the character of the superb mosque at Cordova has been destroyed by its. alteration into a Christian church. It lacks wholly the delicate and melancholy beauty of the Alhambra. Upon its walls, Moorish ornamentation ran mad ; in its courts was the wildest of architectural extravagance. Its Hall of Ambassadors leaves a memory of glistening columns and dainty arches. Walking through the Alcazar, I found no difficulty in realizing that Seville was once a depend- ency of Damascus. Most intimately associated with the Alcazar in the native mind is Don Pedro — but if we had had a surfeit of Ferdinand and Isabella at Granada, in Seville we had a deal too much of this bogie-man of Spanish history.. We saw libraries, museums, and galleries, all wonder- ful of their kind ; but were we not bound for Naples, Alexandria, Cairo, Rome, and Florence, where the wild- est craving for books, antiquities, sculptury, and paint- ing could be gratified ! A night-train carried us to Cadiz. MAIN STREET IN TANGIER, NEAR THE POST OFFICE, SHOWING THE MUEZZIN TOWER OF A MOSOUE THE WHITE CITY OF TANGIER, RISING OUT THE SEA, IN THE MORNING SUN Chapter Six The Arab in His Wane NOW we shall observe the Arab in his utter despondency," was my thought, as our steamer passed out Cadiz harbor, headed across the open sea for Tangier. We were outside the gateway of the ancient world ! The history of the Arabs is that of a nation that was mighty for eight centuries but died without leaving be- hind a legitimate name or country. Old "Charles of the Hammer" checked the triumphal progress of the Arab on the plain of Tours. Frank and Iberian then crowded him southward for seven hundred years until they drove him back to the shores of Africa. A peaceful invasion of Morocco occurs every time a steamer reaches Gibraltar from New York or South- ampton. A comfortable boat plies every other day be- tween Gibraltar and Cadiz, calling at Tangier, and the visitor must time his travels so as to connect at one or other end of the route. The most Moorish city on the 63 64 The Destiny of Doris Mediterranean is thus rendered accessible. In good weather, the three hours' trip is very enjoyable. "Tangier the beautiful," lies at the back of a pretty bay, surrounded by terraced hills. It rises out the water, white and shining in the mid-day sun, nearly op- posite the Spanish pirate stronghold of Tarifa. A land- ing was made in small boats at the English pier. An ex- cellent hotel was found near the wharf, at which the cooking was French, though the attendants were Moors, in their native garb. Mules were waiting after lunch- eon, and we started to see the town. Tangier's narrow streets are so badly paved and disgustingly dirty, that the burro is the only safe and cleanly means of travel. Once in the saddle, the riding was easy and comfortable — a preparation for Egypt, where the mule is a national institution. Led by the guide and attended by two drivers, Mrs. Wentworth, Doris, and I ascended a steep hill through the chief commercial artery from which diverges all the streets of Tangier. It was as crooked as the bed of a mountain torrent. Several mosques were passed ; though Christians are not allowed to enter. "When we visit Egypt, you will contrast the obse- quious attention of the Arabs of Cairo with the arrogant indifference and undisguised contempt shown toward us by the Arabs of Tangier," remarked Mrs. Wentworth. "Here they want nothing of us but our money." A visit of courtesy to the Mayor of Tangier, at his post of duty in a courtway eight feet square, disclosed a handsome but gravely solemn man of sixty years, seated on grass matting, robed in rich silks and wearing a CROUP OF MOORS OUTSIDE THE WALLS, NEAR THE ENGLISH CHURCH : FOREIGN CONSULATES SHOWN IN BACKGROUND, AT LEFT 66 The Destiny of Doris white cotton turban. His black beard was carefully trimmed, and his large, lustrous eyes regarded his visitors with the condescension always shown by the older toward members of the younger races. The street was lined with booths in which all trades were represented. A tobacconist was separated from a tailor by a thin partition of rushes; a law office adjoined a blacksmith shop. Doris took a snapshot of a profes- sional letter-writer, seen preparing all sorts of papers — from the tender billets-doux to contracts for the transfer of property. The city market was atop the hill, inside the wall, and its booths were crowded with wrangling fishmongers and blood-stained butchers. Flowers, fruits, and decaying vegetables; meats, fowl, and fish were inextricably mingled. Men and women, old and young, were cry- ing their bargains in hideous jargon. The famous Soko, or "market of the desert," was in progress on a sloping hillside overlooking the town, out- side the ogival gateway. There we saw specimens of all the North African races — but not a negro. The scene exhibited the activity of an ant hill. We saw caravans that had reached the coast after weeks of travel from oases in the Sahara. The traders had come to exchange their wares for the gold of Europe. Thither the mer- chants of Spain and Italy had voyaged for goods that they could not buy elsewhere. In most cases, when the bargaining was over, the Arabs had revenged them- selves upon the European descendants of their despoilers ! A nabob of the desert, gay in his red and yellow caftan, looking as if he had ridden from a Gerome or For- THESE SNAKE CHARMERS WERE DOINC BUSINESS IN THE SOKO, OR CREAT FAIR OF THE DESERT 68 The Destiny of Doris tuny canvas, sat his Arabian horse, — motionless on a saddle of scarlet leather with velvet pummel and mas- sive, brazen stirrups. What were his thoughts? Was he dreaming of a black-eyed beauty far away and hid- den behind a mushrebiyeh lattice? Or was he await- ing the cry of "Yergal" Here, also, were many kinds of fakirs. Snake charm- ers from Fez, jugglers from Tetuan, and wandering hermit minstrels from lone oases vied with one another in attracting attention and extorting copper coins from strangers. A hideous old Bedouin approached us. He was fantastically be- decked with brass or- naments, and uttered a monotonous wail, w h i c h he accompa- nied on a one-stringed fiddle. He danced so furiously that a por- trait of him could not be taken. Doris want- ed his picture, and, finding an interpre- ter, she asked the man from the desert, "Can you keep still long enough to be photographed?" "Impossible, good lady," answered the Bedouin, waving his hand deprecatingly. V A Hermit Bedouin Dancing Dervish, of the Desert. The Arab in His Wane 69 "Bakshish for you!" the interpreter was told to say. He received in reply : "I am a good Mussulman, and the Koran forbids the making of images; but, really, (with a shrug of his shoul- ders) I need money, and Allah — 'There is nobody greater than Allah!' — Allah will forgive." The American la- dies attracted little curiosity, aside from their hats and gar- ments ; they evoked less comment than would the presence of two travelers from Morocco in a western American village. The A rah aristo- crats completely enveloped their figures in long, cotton cloaks, and their feet were encased in sandals, except in the mosques and coffee-houses; hut Moors of low degree wore only a sack-like garment of bagging, having holes for head and arms, and a sash about their loins. Begging was not more common than in the Spanish cities. Ascending the hill to the English church, — a white- building prominently shown in all general views of Tangier, — we set out on the highway of the country lead- The Orange-grove Keeper, A Modest Mussulman. 70 The Destiny of Doris ing to Fez. It was a muddy foot-path, punctured with hoof-marks, but without a carriage track. It skirted the crest of the hill until the handsome modern buildings of the British, American, and Belgian legations were passed. Far below were the minarets of the city mosques, and be- yond shimmered the ocean. Descending into a valley, our way became a crooked path along the bed of a stream. We halted at an orange orchard, wherein were thou- sands of trees loaded with luscious fruit, and were re- ceived by one of the most picturesque natives met any- where on our travels. After much persuasion, Doris induced him to stand for his picture. Beyond the grove all semblance of a road disappeared, and the trampled path broadened to half a mile. Our mules were turned into a wet meadow, and an hour's ride brought us to the seashore bordering the harbor. The beach was of hard sand, and afforded better footing than the swamps of the up-lands. The castle is a wreck of the past, without any vestige of departed grandeur. Tangier, from its battlements, is picturesque and comprehensive. In all directions good Arabs were seen emerging upon their roofs in antic- ipation of the call to evening prayers. "There is no conqueror but God," the Moor has con- tinued to proclaim from every wall, but he apparently stands in poor favor with the Almighty. Facing an open square, outside the castle wall, are the prison, the Imperial Treasury and the house of the Gov- ernor of the province. Across the plaza is the Hall of Justice — a vaulted room, open to the street, where we found a turbaned judge sitting upon the floor and decid- The Arab in His Wane 7i ing without the help of a jury all civil cases brought be- fore him. Court being in session, Doris and her mother were anxious to attend. An interesting case, involving the ownership of ten square metres of land, was called. The plaintiff was an aged Moorish woman, clad in a On the Citadel-heights. Court of Justice. Governor's Harem. Imperial Treasury. single garment of sackcloth, and accompanied by her husband, who was covered with rags and patches. The defendant was a man of middle age, not so poorly dressed. All were barelegged and unshod. The defendant, on approaching the seat of justice, kissed the tips of the fingers on his right hand, and touched the turban of the magistrate, after which he seated himself to hear the evidence. 72 The Destiny of Doris Without being sworn, the plaintiff stated her case with volubility, and the guide thus interpreted as she pro- gressed : "I sold to this man Safira ten square metres of land on the Tetuan road for fifty pesetas. ( Aside. — The land came to me from my father.) This Safira took posses- sion, raised crops and sold them, but never paid me a millieme. I want my land back and payment for the crop this man has raised." This testimony was corroborated by her husband, who appeared duly humble, owing to the wealth possessed by his wife. In that Tangier household, woman did not occupy an abject position! The defendant alleged that he had made certain pay- ments, that the land was not as fertile as represented, and the crops had been meagre. Therefore, he had been un- able to meet his obligations. His manner was calm, contrasting with the prosecutor who had pitched her voice in a shrill key. He was too deferential toward the judge but that may have been due to his respect for the law. He declared that he had a witness to the payment of ten pesetas, and was given half an hour to produce him, — a water-carrier in the Street of the Caliph. A prison for condemned murderers adjoined the Im- perial Treasury. The men and boys occupied a large room with a mud floor. An opening in the wall barely large enough to allow a prisoner to crawl through was its only door. A swarthy keeper stood guard outside with a drawn scimiter. We inspected the interior through the small aperture. The men were shackled at the ankles. A boy of fourteen who had killed three A MOORISH WOMAN POURING CONFIDENCES INTO THE EARS OF THE LETTER-WRITER, CAUSING HIM TO HESITATE FOR WORDS 74 The Destiny of Doris people was pointed out. His last appeal had been heard and denied, so he would be taken to the City of Morocco for decapitation in a few days. In a serene frame of mind, he was busily engaged in making straw baskets, one of which Mrs. Wentworth purchased. Both ladies were deeply touched, but moderated their grief when the guard taxed them a franc for looking at the prisoners. Since his retirement from public life, a former Gover- nor of the Khanate has added to his income by permit- ting his four wives to receive calls from foreign ladies. His dwelling stood at the back of the Treasury, its small wicket guarded by a black slave. Imbued with the same curiosity that has enticed other strangers, Doris and her mother entered the marble courtyard. After half an hour's absence, they reappeared at the outer door, where the guide and I awaited them. "Whether it be a real harem or not, I certainly have seen two very beautiful young girls," exclaimed Mrs. Wentworth. "Their large dark eyes, fine olive complex- ions, and painted lips made them pictures of Oriental loveliness. They were elaborately dressed in bright-col- ored silken robes, with a profusion of jewels, and reclined on sumptuous divans. Older women waited on the two young favorites, and I was highly interested in listening to their halting French. Doris, however, became fright- ened by the importunities of the serving-wOmen for money." "You do not realize, madame," hastily interposed our guide, "that 'money' is probably the only English word they know." "At all events," said Mrs. Wentworth, "ladies who en- The Arab in His Wane 75 ter the place expecting to behold groups of languid-eyed, jewel-bedecked women surrounded by slaves, resting amid perfumed vapors and listening to music or accom- panying the lute in soft monotones, will be disappointed. However, the visit has given us a correct impression of the interior of a Moorish home of some wealth, the na- tional dress of the women, and their domestic life." The descent from the citadel-hill is very steep. Mrs. Wentworth, who never met a fence that she couldn't take, trusted her mule implicitly. Doris was not to be outdone, and kept her seat ; but she conceded the good sense of any woman who dismounted and walked. Broken bones in Tangier would be serious, because there is no hospital, and surgeons are unknown. After dinner and a brief rest, we went with a native guide to a Moorish coffee-house. The large apartment was crowded with patrons, all seated on the floor. An orchestra of eight musicians, curled up on mats, made hideous noises at one end of the room. The players drank tea, in which mint-leaves were crushed. An Arab who sat near pointed out to us a young musician strum- ming a mandolin, who rolled his eyes and uttered a low plaintive chant. He was a Tangier nabob, leading an improvisation about the Alhambra, which he closed with a prophecy that the Crescent would supplant the Cross in Southern Europe. The music was saved from mono- tone only by wild outbursts from members of the or- chestra, which suggested the czardis of the Hungarians. The singer's words stirred the musicians to fever-heat, and each verse closed with shouts of "Yerga!" "Who is he?" Mrs. Wentworth asked our dragoman. 76 The Destiny of Doris "Him not play for money," the turbaned native pro- tested. "He mother, she work; she ver' reech ; keep big" shop — work ver' hard. Him no work ; him sleep ail day and play a' night. Him poet, great musician — write many songs." He was the envy of every youngster in Tangier who hadn't a mother to support him in idleness. The coffee- house is the Arab's club, and, when the music is still, the guests exchange gossip and scandal as do the most civilized men and women. In all Mohammedan coun- tries, however, woman has no place in conversation among men : she is considered of too slight importance. Several schools for small children were visited next morning, where scores of boys were seen and heard re- peating in dreariest monotones, the Arabic : "Allah ! Al- lah is great ; nobody is greater than Allah," accompanied by a constant swaying of the body. From seven to twelve and from one to five o'clock this constituted their onlv lesson. "We shall see the Arab again in Egypt, whence he set out to subdue Western Europe ; having wrested from the Romans the Key to the World," said Mrs. Went- worth to Doris, as we stood on deck next day while the vessel steamed out of port. "As found here, he is less attractive, but certainly very curious." Belief is common along the African coast that Eng- land will reassert her claim to Morocco, based on its gift to Charles IT., as the dower of Catherine of Bra- ganza, though the British abandoned it in 1684. Eng- lishmen and Americans are securing large tracts of land near Tangier, and await a turn of the political card. A BOY'S SCHOOL, WHERE THE CROW- ING ARAB MIND IS FED ON THE KORAN MANY HOURS DAILY PROCESSION OF WATER-CARRIERS, UNDER THE ACACIA TREES AT ISMAILIYA. Chapter Seven True to Prophecy THE Barbary pirates of Tarifa, who levied toll on all ships that passed the Strait, are dead. Their descendants still exact a liv- ing from the sea ; but the fisher's trade makes old age surer, since piracy has fallen into dis- favor. We returned in safety, therefore, to that frown- ing Rock, beyond which Herodotus placed the region of eternal night. Dinner and the steamer from New York were simul- taneously announced that evening. The ship was to take coal, and would not sail for Naples until noon next day. Having letters to answer, I had regretfully declined Mrs. Went worth's invitation to join her at table, and had gone to my hotel. I learned, however, that Mr. Blake came ashore promptly and found his friends without difficulty. He engaged a box at the opera and the three heard "La Traviata," sung by an Italian company. Miss Went- worth's animation during the evening delighted her 78 A GROUP OF ARAB REFORMERS ATTEMPTING TO INTRODUCE AT GIBRALTAR A SUBSTITUTE FOR BRANDY-AND-SODA 8o The Destiny of Doris mother. The girlish face was a picture of happiness in the presence of Mr. Blake. The young people were too busy contemplating each other to give much attention to the music; still, judging from what I heard when I dropped in at the end of the second act, they missed nothing ; for the tenor's notes were as false as those of "Jim the Penman." I saw Doris for the first time in evening dress. She looked charming, in a gown of shimmering white satin, covered with filmy lace. After the opera, we walked with the ladies to their hotel, where young Blake learned that the gates of the city are always closed at eleven o'clock. After the first shock, lie was glad to remain ashore, that he might assist the ladies in embarking. I put Mr. Blake up at my hotel, but he rose early, and, I learned afterward, sent a large basket of flowers aboard ship to await the object of his affections. When I contemplated my feelings, I was amazed at the change two weeks had wrought in me. I found my- self unexpectedly associated with a wooing of a highly romantic character, in which the position of an old ac- quaintance of the mother was rapidly changing to that of a father-confessor to the daughter. I realized that before another week closed, the young people would be coming to me for advice. A senti- mental element had become associated with my trip, I had intended to leave the ship at Naples and hasten to Rome ; but I experienced indescribable joy when Mrs. Went worth expressed regret that I was not going with them to Egypt. She could not have asked me in any more delicate way to remain one of the party. One night, True to Prophecy 81 as we were watching the lights on the coast of Sardinia, I suddenly called her "Louise," as in the old days. Ev- ery hour after leaving Gibraltar, my interest in the woman I had loved as a girl became more definite, until T felt her absence if I did not see her frequently. Al- Charybdis, on the Sicily Shore. ready had she cast over me the spell of sympathy, so closely akin to love; but 1 have no intention of recount- ing the emotions of a warmed-over affection. We made a happy party in the dining-room of the steamship, having an end of a table to ourselves. That trip to Naples, through the smooth waters of the Medi- terranean, did not contain a dull moment. While Mrs. WentWOrth never relaxed the cbuperonage of her daugh- 82 The Destiny of Doris ter, she manifested less and less anxiety to have Doris by her side when we were together. By the time Mount Vesuvius rose out the sea, I would have followed her to the end of the earth. The companionship of the young people attracted little of my attention. Together they studied guide books and histories ; in the dull part of every afternoon, they'd go to the grand salon, where Doris would play and sing. Though light in volume, her voice had been thoroughly cultivated, and it possessed rare sweetness. Naples was sighted late in the afternoon of the fourth day. Every window on the hillside behind the city was aflame in the sunlight. We had seen the purple smoke from Vesuvius for several hours ; but not until Capri was passed did we behold the volcano itself. The for- tress of St. Elmo, on the sky line, admirably assisted the composition of this wonderful picture. It was the sub- lime view of Naples and her glorious bay that photo- graphs and prints have made so familiar! Our boat for Port Said was due from Genoa the fol- lowing afternoon, and we landed without serious trouble at the custom-house. Tobacco, salt, liquors, and fire- arms were contraband. We had none. For a stay of only one night, our party chose a hotel near the wharf in preference to the better establish- ments on the Corso Vittorio Emanuele, a noble terraced avenue that follows the sides of the hills, as does the Via di Circomvallazione a Monte at Genoa. We heard "Rigoletto" at the San Carlo, which disputes with La Scala, at Milan, possession of the largest auditorium in the world, and afterward took coffee in the Galleria Um- CITY OF MESSINA; TAKEN FROM THE HEIGHTS OF SICILY, SHOWING WIDTH OF THE STRAIT; ITALY IN THE BACKGROUND 84 The Destiny of Doris berto, a lofty glass-covered passage, shaped like a Greek cross. Its site was a pest hole when the cholera ravaged Naples in 1884. Deaths averaged nine hundred a day in the houses that have since been razed to create this at- tractive feature of the new city. Its only rival in Europe is the Galleria Yittorio Emanuele at Milan. Leaving all sight-seeing until our return from Egypt, we drove westward next day along the Posilipo road to Pozzuoli and the promontory beyond. We were really glad to get back aboard ship that evening, and as the steamer was filled with passengers bound for the Far East, Mr. Blake shared with me the stateroom he had secured by wire from Gibraltar. After- taking possession of our quarters, we assembled on deck to watch the lights of the city. In no other way is the immensity of Naples so appreciated. It stretches along the coast from the site of buried Pompeii to the western headland, which abruptly ends the picture, — a length of twenty miles. "We now begin the most interesting part of our trip," exclaimed Mrs. Wentworth, with an enthusiasm that was contagious. "This steamer carries us to the east- ern extremity of the Mediterranean: the Suez Canal, Cairo, and all Egypt will be ours to enjoy. We shall ascend the Nile to Nubia, climb the Pyramid of Cheops at Gizeh ; descend into the tombs of the Sacred Bulls at Memphis. We shall revel in antiquity!" "Let us include Palestine," added Doris. "We may never be so near Jerusalem again — " "That is agreed," interrupted Blake. "You have 'The New Jerusalem' in mind, I suppose," mm "au rev01ri"-a favorite wife leaving home to shop :n the muski, always accompanied by a boy-child, if she have one 86 The Destiny of Doris retorted Doris. "If so, kindly speak for yourself, Mr. Blake." "Stop quarreling, children," said Mrs. Wentworth, with affected seriousness. "Is it agreed we go to Pales- tine? Your vote is necessary, Mr. North," she added, turning to me. "That's one place along the Mediterranean, I haven't visited; let's go!" I promptly replied. "Its cheapness appeals to me," added Mrs. Went- worth, frankly. "The expenses from Cairo to Jerusalem going and returning, are twenty-five dollars !" "That's true, the dearest item is the guide book to Palestine," was my comment. Thus did we add another link to the chain of our des- tinies. Morning found the Preussen in sight of the slumbering volcano of Stromboli, which rises out the sea in solitary grandeur. A small town, without pier or breakwater, lay at its eastern base. In the absence of information in books, we appealed to the captain. "Stromboli is the safety valve of Vesuvius," said he. "When one mountain is at work, the other rests. As the cone is much lower on the western side, the lava flows out there, and the safety of the town is thus assured. At night, a red glow hovers intermittently on the summit, and Stromboli is known as 'the lighthouse of the Medi- terranean.' It is no longer out of the world, as it has a cable to Sicily, — the mountains of which you will soon see." From this gigantic heap of cinders and masses of IN THE SUEZ CANAL, AMID THE DESO- LATION OF THE DESERT; A STEAMER BOUND FOR CHINA 88 The Destiny of Doris slag, towering to a height of three thousand feet, our course lay direct for the Strait of Messina. A sand bar, extending a mile into the sea and bearing a beacon, marked Charybdis. On the eastern shore was the white city of Scvlla, with its noble castle, built 476 B. C. "Ulysses found the sirens over there" — I began, in- dicating the mainland. "They don't live at Scylla now," interjected Mrs. Wentworth. "Their probable address is Naples." "Perhaps you're right; but they were there in Ulys- ses' day." "I don't see our courageous captain lashing himself to the mast, or filling the ears of his men with oakum," she retorted saucily. "He's passed here often, and ought to know." "Nothing dangerous about that water," commented Blake. "I once swam Hell Gate, and two years ago, I crossed the Hellespont at Abydos in much worse cur- rents. How about sharks?" "They are the real sirens of to-day," answered the second officer. "But sharks never eat live human be- ings ; that is an exploded idea." "I'm afraid of them. I say, weren't Homer and Virgil terrible exaggerators ? You couldn't blame 'the old man' so much ; he was blind and never had been here. But Virgil must have known this place well, and deliberately made a Munchausen of himself." Doris appeared with a copy of Pope's Homer, which she had discovered in the ship's library. She read : True to Prophecy 89 " 'The swiftest racer of the azure sea Here fills her sails, and spreads her oars a-lee ; Fell Scylla rises, in her fury roars, At once six mouths expands, at once six men devours.' " L ! /^Av.-.v Fresh-water Canal, Along the Salty Suez Waterway. "Pope had more courage than Ulysses," commented Doris; "he rhymed 'devours' to 'roars.' lint listen to the next few lines : " 'Close by, a rock of less enormous height Breaks the wild waves, and forms a dangerous strait; Beneath, Charybdis holds her boisterous 1vh.n1 Midst roaring whirlpools, and absorbs the main ; 90 The Destiny of Doris Thrice in her gulfs the boiling seas subside, Thrice, 'mid dire thunders, she refunds the tide. ********** Ah ! shun the horred gulf ! By Scylla fly, 'Tis better six to lose, than all to die.' " I recalled Virgil's exaggerated description in the third book of the /Eneid, though I didn't attempt to quote it, but I pointed out the place where in 1783 a part of Monte Baci, the adjacent headland, slid into the sea and raised a wave that engulfed four thousand people. Now fairly in the Strait, the pretty city of Messina, stretching for several miles along the shore, was stud- ied through a glass. Behind, rose the mountains of Sicily, — a terraced vineyard. "Without Sicily, Italy is nothing," wrote Goethe. Hare says "it is not a beauti- ful island, but a very ugly island with a few exquisitely beautiful spots." Slightly smaller than Sardinia, Sicily has finer cities and more miles of railway. "The Strada Etnae of Catania is the handsomest street in Italy," says Hare. Sicily is the flower-garden of Europe. Between us and the setting sun, a gigantic snow- crowned peak, smoking more violently than had Vesu- vius, stood apart from cloud-land. When night fell, its top could be seen for hours, made luminous by a sulphur- ous glow. It was iEtna ! We said good night to Europe. The Mediterranean was as smooth as a pond ; its warm breezes were as the breath of summer. On the fourth day, Africa was descried at the Damietta mouth of the Nile. A glass showed a group of warehouses and a fleet CAIRO, FROM THE HEIGHTS OF MOKKATAN, SHOWING MOSQUE OF MAHOMET ALI AND THE CITADEL, WHERE THE MAMELUKES WERE KILLED 92 The Destiny of Doris of sailing craft. The pilot for Port Said soon came aboard, and by noon we were abreast the long pier that marks the entrance to the artificial harbor. The channel into the canal was buoyed. Every man of us lifted his hat to the gigantic statue of De Lesseps at the shore-end of the pier. Its admirable pose and the welcome ex- tended by the right hand are memorable. A small boat bore us ashore in Africa; the custom- house officials accepted our statements that we were tourists, and we drove to a hotel to await the afternoon train for the capital. We made the usual tour through the Arab quarter, equaling Tangier in strange scenes and foul odors, but lacking the picturesque surround- ings. A narrow-gauge railway followed the bank of the Suez Canal fifty miles to Ismailiya, where we entered a dining-car- and rolled into the new station at Cairo three hours later. THE NILE AT CAIRO, NEAR THE PALACE OF THE KHEDIVE S MOTHER. Chapter Eight A False Oracle THE traveler to El Kahira, or Cairo, passes two bloody battle-fields on which the destiny of the vassal kingdom of Egypt was decided The first is Tell-el-Kebir, where per- ished the last hope of Egyptian release from the fast- tightening grip of England, when, in 1882, Arabi Bey, propagandist of Democracy, was crushingly defeated by Sir Garnet Wolseley. The second is the broad plain on which Xapoleon overthrew the Mamelukes in the Battle of the Pyramids (1798), and where he said: "If I could unite the Mameluke horsemen to the French in- fantry, I'd count myself master of the world." Well might he have said to his troops, "Forty centuries look down upon you ;" for the Pyramids of Gizeh, Abusir, and Sakkara are clearly in sight. Egypt is no longer "a dead nation in a dying land," as Kingsley described her, but is on the road of progress. The Soudan has been reconquered by Kitchener, and the 93 94 The Destiny of Doris Egyptian flag fles over Khartum. Practically, the cul- tivable part of Egypt, barely exceeding 11,000 square miles, ends at Assouan. The Nile Valley above the Delta is a mere strip of arable land bordered on either side by a desert and varying in width from four miles at Cairo to a few hundred yards at Assouan. A map shows the valley to have the form of a great snake, tapering to a slender tail. Cairo, Egypt's capital, is a modern city and one of the finest in the Eastern hemisphere, abounding in broad, well-shaded, admirably-paved and electrically-lighted boulevards. Where were formerly dilapidated rooker- ies, are now handsome business- and dwelling-houses. Its hotels equal those of London and Paris in comfort and cuisine. Electric trams take you to all its suburbs, even to the Pyramids at Gizeh ; and its two-horse victorias are better than those of the French capital. Ismail Pasha, wiho created New Cairo, had passed much of his early life at Paris, and in his enthusiastic desire to rival the Gay Capital he financially wrecked his country. He found Egypt with a small debt and ex- cellent credit, on which he borrowed and squandered $500,000,000 — chiefly obtained from Germany, England, and France. Then came a day of reckoning, resulting in his deposition, the intrusion of an English "advisor" in the person of a Consul-General, and, at a later day, of British soldiery under the title of "The Army of Occupa- tion." England no longer disguises her intention to main- tain her troops in Egypt. Nevertheless, the Ismailian quarter is the glory of NEW CAIRO; VIEW OF SHEPHEARD'S HOTEL AND SHOPPING STREET IN THE MODERN CITY 96 The Destiny of Doris Cairo. The starting-point of these improvements is the Ezbekiyeh Gardens, twenty acres of verdure in the heart of the town. This park contains specimens of all the rare trees and shrubs of Africa. The acacia, the white- and date-palm, the banana, the large red-flowered erbus- cus, and the purple, vine-covered bougainvillier are there. On its southern side is the famous opera house, for the opening of which Verdi was engaged to write "A'ida." It was only one of Ismail's extravagances. A heroic bronze equestrian statue of Ibrahim Pasha, father of Ismail, stands in the plaza near by. From the Ezbe- kiyeh Gardens diverge, west and north, the broad streets of Ismailian Cairo, crowded with fine hotels and resi- dences — the latter beautified by harem-windows of mouchrebiyeh wood-work. As a constant reminder of Egypt's present servile po- sition, the headquarters of "The Army of Occupation" is on one of the best of the new avenues, Sharia Kasr- en-Nil ; the British Consul-General, who is the actual ruler of Egypt, dwells there, and six thousand foreign troops occupy the barracks at the Ismailian-end of the Nile Bridge. After the opening of the Suez Canal, Cairo felt a strong French influence ; but when the Eng- lish Occupation became an assured permanency, the Greek, Italian, and French capitalists were prompt to recognize the new guarantee of stability, and began to invest their money in fine hotels and other property. Outside the bazaars, the shops are few and confined chiefly to the Sharia Kamel Pasha, on which are Shep- heard's and the Continental Hotels. The streets present a cosmopolitan appearance, with the equipages, automo- TOMB OF THE MASSACRED MAMELUKES, BEHIND THE CITADEL: HAVINC SLAUGHTERED THEM, THE KHEDIVE BURIED THEM IN SPLENDOR 98 The Destiny of Doris biles, camel caravans, and donkeys inextricably mixed. The native ladies always drive, preceded by one or two fleet runners, gaily jacketed. The women are gen- erally dressed in white, with white gauze face-coverings ; but on the popular thoroughfares many European and American ladies are seen with uncovered faces. We made a general round-up of Cairo the day after our arrival. The mosques were disposed of first. We drove to the citadel, built by Saladin (1166 A. D.), and desecrated by the massacre of 480 Mamelukes (1811) at the order of Mohammed Ali. Stains on the marble floor of the adjacent mosque of Sultan Hassan, indicate that the Mamelukes who escaped from the citadel, where they had been trapped like rats, were pursued into this house of worship and hacked to pieces on their knees before the kaba. Those dark-brown spots caused the same shud- der felt in the death-chamber of the Abencerrages, ad- jacent to the Lion Court of the Alhambra. Mahomet the Prophet had inculcated treachery by procuring the assassination of the Mecca pilgrims ; and Mohammed Ali felt justified in annihilating the Mamelukes — already humbled by Napoleon. He made a clean job, because only one Mameluke, Amin Bey, escaped, — by jumping from the parapet of the castle, sixty feet high into the moat. The victims were given handsome tombs, within sight of the citadel in which they had been slaughtered ; and there they sleep without a name or mark to dis- tinguish chief from subaltern. Those tombs were to me the most melancholy mod- ern objects in Egypt! When firmly" established, — by means of a dastardly and ENTRANCE TO THE MUSKI, THE BROADWAY OF THE ARAB QUARTER, WHERE ARE THE BAZAARS AND NATIVE SHOPS ioo The Destiny of Doris bloody crime, — Mohammed AH erected inside the citadel a beautiful, alabaster-lined mosque, with two slender min- arets, which forms a part of every picture of the Egyptian capital. Thither the present Khedive, Abbas II. Hilmi, great-grandson of Ibrahim Pasha (who was an adopted son of Mohammed Ali), goes in October of each year to pass a night in prayer, taking 3,000 troops as a body- guard ; but while in the mosque he is as humble as the poorest Arab, resting on a carpet and praying in a niche, prepared for his devotions. The Mosque of Sultan Hassan ( 1356) is a much finer specimen of Byzantine architecture. Its splendid arched gateway has been imitated throughout the Moslem world. The bazaars are the wonder-places of old Cairo. A day among them gave the first keen impression of Eastern life. Every group and shop-front was a pic- ture, gay in color or sombre in shade. At each street- corner was a surprise, and along each narrow lane, kept muddy by constant sprinkling, was a kaleidescopic pic- ture of figures, strange and curious. Every race of the Eastern world was represented. A crowded thorough- fare called the Muski — the Broadway of old Cairo — penetrated the heart of the bazaar section. Pale-faced Greek merchants, black Nubians, shifty-eyed Persians, bare-legged Egyptian porters, copper-colored Bedouins, and red-faced Englishmen jostled one another in the human tide that ebbed and flowed. In front of each single-roomed shop sat the merchant ; some were eager for barter, with more varieties of prices than a Baxter street "puller in;" others were silently trusting in Allah IN THE BAZAARS OF THE MUSKI; CROUP OF ARAB MERCHANTS AND ASSISTANTS: EACH EOOTH A SHOP 102 The Destiny of Doris to bring them customers, but keen and ready when a victim arrived. Crossing and recrossing the Muski, every branch of Eastern art was met. Competition seemed to be the soul of trade; for each class of mer- chandise or artisan had its separate quarter. A noisy colony of brass-workers was succeeded by silent leather- sewers or curtain-makers. Turning a corner, we saw ahead many rods of red or yellow slippers, each pair thrown over a wire and swaying in the wind, like two antagonistic cats suspended by their tails. The sharp- pointed, red Egyptian slippers could be bought as low as a shilling a pair, but the yellow Tunisian shoes com- manded higher prices. Carpet- and rug-shops were ev- erywhere. Among this babel of trade constantly passed the water- vender and the coffee-maker. At a signal, the latter would stop and light his lamp, mix the sugar and dust- like coffee in a small copper pot, heat and serve it, re- ceive his pay, and move on. The annoyances to visitors have been exaggerated. "How shall we go to the Pyramids, to-morrow ?" I inquired, as we sat at dinner that evening. "Let us ride there on camels," answered Doris. "That would add a touch of real romance to the first visit." "The electric tram suits me," volunteered Mrs. Went- worth. "Why not take a carriage all the way?" suggested Blake. I proposed a combination that embodied the three sug- gestions. "We shall have to drive across the Nile Bridge, be- A False Oracle 103 cause the sun is too warm to walk. There let us take the electric tram to the Mena House, where we can hire camels, and ride to the Sphinx. Returning to the Great Pyramid, we shall climb it and — come back to town." That programme was followed, and the camel-ride was quite long enough to satisfy the wildest curiosity. Every preconceived idea of the Pyramids was con- GREAT FVRAMID, FROM MENA HOUSE, END OF TRAMWAY firmed, except their color; for the tawny-tan limestone was unlike anything seen elsewhere. This hue had not been imparted by a stain, similar to that upon the fillet across the brow of the Sphinx. The vast mass of stone disappointed Miss Wentworth and Blake until they un- dertook to climb it. 104 The Destiny of Doris The Sphinx lay wallowing in a sandy hollow to the eastward of the Great Pyramid. Small in size, it embodies the largest unsolved mystery of the Past. On the fillet, across the brow of the Sphinx, Mr. Blake found and transcribed an Arabic inscription. To our surprise, when deciphered by a Professor at the Uni- versity of Cairo, the word was "Yerga !" A Mameluke chieftain, fleeing southward after the defeat by Napo- leon on July 2 1 st, 1798, had climbed to the head of the sleepless Monster of the Desert and painted there his de- fiance and his prophecy. He was a Wizard of the Nile. The Mamelukes did indeed return, — to be slaughtered like dogs by Mohammed Ali ; and the Arabs regained their country from the French only to give it to the Eng- lish ! Only a small part of the hybrid animal is exposed — the back, head, breast, and forepaw. Nothing indicates that it was a figure of stupendous size or importance. The body appears to be composed of concrete. The mange of time has effaced any evidence of a hide. A terrible wound, as with a mighty scimiter, divided the back, near the haunches. The assertion that the Sqhinx was cut from a solid block of limestone does not bear in- vestigation ; the head is composed of two separate blocks, differing in hardness, the neck is of a coarse, sea-pebble concrete, and small slabs of marble are used to form the legs and paws. A keen regret is felt that this monster should be allowed to suffocate in the dust. "Cannot a man be found, somewhere, who will have the Sphinx completely uncovered, and build a fence that will keep out the sand?" exclaimed Doris. GENERAL VIEW FROM EASTWARD OF THE SPHINX AND THREE PYRAMIDS, AT CIZEH, SHOWING THEIR RELATIVE POSITIONS io6 The Destiny of Doris "It would be the straightest route to fame ever trav- eled," I added, "and need not cost $10,000." "Any American railroad contractor will undertake to build a wind-break to deflect the sand in another direc- tion," commented Blake. "A fence of steel plates, be- tween the first and second Pyramids, would probably ac- complish the result." As early as the XVIIIth Dynasty (1500 B. C), Thut- mosis IV. partly-dug out the Sphinx, but it was first com- pletely excavated by Caviglia, at a cost of $2,200. A few thousand dollars more would have kept it clear of sand forever. The ascent and descent of the Great Pyramid was an hour's hard work. All that has been written about the ease attending its accomplishment goes for nothing after you have finished the task. The Bedouins of Gizeh are a privileged class, They have rights at the Pyramid that nobody can successfully dispute. It was a case of "Pay, Pay, Pay!" from start to finish. "Fine lady," suggested the Bedouin who was pulling me up the slope, as he nodded toward Mrs. Wentworth. "Indeed she is," I replied, with emphasis. "She good wife, me sure," added the son of the Sheik, who held the other hand. "Very good," I gasped, short of breath, joining the endorsement with a hope near my heart. "You daughter pretty, like mother," said the first Bed- ouin, as he dislocated my shoulder by a powerful jerk. "Yes," I wheezed, hardly caring whether or not the falsehood about Doris' parentage was separated from the truth about her beautv. LABORIOUS TO CLIMB IS THE BIG PYRAMID, AS THIS PHOTOGRAPH SHOWS, BECAUSE THE STONE-COURSES VARY IN HEIGHT io8 The Destiny of Doris "He love pretty girl," added the Sheik's son, pointing to Blake, and smiling his approval as he nodded toward Doris. "Her brother," I replied, deliberately, to test a sus- picion that I was being cross-examined. There the subject rested until we reached the well- known resting-place, about three-quarters up the Pyra- mid. Then the fortune-teller appeared, drew a circle in some sand, quartered it and made twelve dots around it for the signs of the Zodiac. He then asked the ladies to place coins in the magic horoscope ; and after my Bed- ouin had concluded a chant in Arabic, the soothsayer began : "You husband love you very much; you both children proud of mother ; daughter, she marry, have two boys ; son not want marry, but have sweetheart in America. You husband he give big present." "My husband?" asked Mrs. Wentworth, annoyed. "Look at he kind face,'' said the fortune-teller, glanc- ing upward at me. "See how he smile with joy." Everybody gazed in my direction. Convulsed with laughter, I explained how I had been interrogated during the ascent. Then we compared ex- periences, and found that each of us had been on the witness-stand. Later, we ascertained that our dragoman had made inquiries at the hotel on his own account, with a view, no doubt, to telling our fortunes for his personal profit if we did not ascend the Pyramid and get into the grasp of the Bedouins. It is needless to say that he was de- lighted at the discomfiture of the Sons of the Desert, A False Oracle 109 and told a merry tale in the coffee-houses of Cairo that night. Escape from the Bedouins of Gizeh is not easy, under the most favorable circumstances. A tariff is fixed by the Egyptian Government for the services rendered ; but at the top of the Pyramid money was extorted, and after the descent a horde of candidates for bakshish appeared who had not been seen before. At this crisis, our drago- man was worth every piastre we paid him. He displayed considerable courage, and rescued us from a crowd of jabbering natives that threatened to take the clothes off our backs. Especially had we been warned against an old scamp who called himself "Doctor Marketa Twain;" but I found him at another visit, and the acquaintance cost me ten shillings. The top of the Great Pyramid is not a level platform ; a few remaining blocks of a tier that had been partly removed, made excellent seats. The Second Pyramid with its smooth-surfaced top, seemed quite near at hand. Unlike the view from a mountain-top, the face of the Pyramid was so nearly the visual line of sight when we stood erect, that the effect was as if we gazed over a precipice. The sandy desert lay directly at our feet, on all sides ! From no other vantage-point can be gained a correct idea of the way in which this grandest grave- yard on earth was planned. Cairo, with its glittering domes and its fairy mosque, was an unavoidable part of the picture, but quite out of keeping. To the south, perfect harmony of color reigned. In a wavy line, through the creamy yellow of the desert, was embroidered a silver thread that shimmered in the sun, — the Nile! ALL- THAT IS LEFT OF ONCE-MIGHTY AND POPULOUS MEMPHIS Chapter Nine Disappointments of a Mummy WHEN you take a plunge into antiquity and want to dive deeply, go to Memphis and its Campo-Santo, Sakkara. Nearly everything else in Egypt is young by comparison. At a bound, we crossed a gulf that separates the days of Cheops from those of Unas — a chasm of a thousand years ! Like the philosopher who went into the desert to study the moods of nature, we descended into the grave and wrung therefrom its secrets. Memphis is so near Cairo that, had we not been prop- erly instructed, we should have deferred our visit until we had gone up the Nile — a serious mistake. An early morning-train from the new station car- ried us and a well-filled luncheon basket to Bedrashen, where we met the Sheik and engaged a donkey and driver at ten piastres (50 cents) for each member of the party. Mounting at once, we rode through planted fields no Disappointments of a Mummy 1 1 1 to a village of 200 inhabitants on the site of ancient Memphis, — now only a series of narrow and dirty streets between mud walls. As late as the twelfth century, the thoroughfares of Memphis extended from Gizeh on the north, twelve miles to the Pyramids of Dashur on the south, and its population of 1,000,000 people occupied every foot of space between the Nile and the Lybian Desert. Two mammoth statues of Rameses II. were recumbent amid a clump of palm trees, — one of granite, 25 feet in length, and the other of limestone, originally 42 feet tall. After traversing a series of palm groves, we reached the open country, and a mile across ploughed fields brought us to the sandy foothills of Sakkara. My mule had such an equable temper that I called him "Socrates." The ladies were particularly delighted with this don- key-ride, — the little animals were so gentle and tractable. "If the camel be the ship of the desert," said Mrs. Wentworth, stroking the neck of the faithful beast that carried her, "you are the cat-boat of this sandy waste." We spent that memorable day in underground graves. We rode and walked for hours through sand strewn with bits of alabaster, scales of blue-and-white glazed earthen- ware, and fragments of human skeletons. Everything that the broiling sun's heat could not destroy, had en- ured— for rain hasn't fallen since the first stone of Memphis was put in place! "I get you a skull?" asked one of the donkey-driv- ers. "Good remembrance of Sakkara." ii2 The Destiny of Doris "No, indeed, my man," I replied, already feeling like a body-snatcher, as I trod upon the desecrated graves. We entered the elaborate tomb of Meri, containing thirty-one rooms. Its marble walls are covered with hieroglyphics, that recount the history and domestic life of the owner who was one of the independent kings of Memphis during the civil strife between Northern and Southern Egypt, before the end of the Vlth Dynasty (2000 B. C). The engravers' work is not equal to that found in the tomb of Ti, but the pictures are more numerous and of greater importance. Nothing more interesting than the tombs of this vast charnel-house exists in Egypt ; for the colors look fresh and the pictures are resplendent with gilding. Especial- ly is this true of the mausoleum of Taki Tib, exhumed only a few days before our arrival. We entered the tombs of the Sacred Bulls, as every- body does : they are two minutes' walk from Mariettas house, — our halting-place for luncheon,— and consist of a series of twenty-four large chambers, excavated in the natural rock to the right and left of a wide passage-way, 1,200 feet long. Each of these alcoves contains a sar- cophagus of polished black granite ( thirteen feet in length, seven in width, and eleven in height), weighing sixty-five tons. Every coffin-lid has been raised ; for these tombs have been known a thousand years. All are in place except one, left with its story, amid the darkness of the corridor. Why was that stone coffin never put in place? Did a mutiny occur? — a revolt against the deification of Bulls? — was there a protest against a disgusting religious cere- BEDRASHEN, THE ARAB VILLACE ON THE NILE, WHENCE THE TRIP TO MEMPHIS AND SAKKARA STARTS ii4 The Destiny of Doris monial ? To me that abandoned stone-box possessed sol- emn significance. Possibly Rameses II., who created the tombs, became ashamed of bull-worship — adoration of a God that could die! Doris lighted magnesium wire, with which she bril- liantly illuminated the last hall, and secured a photograph of the chamber containing the most highly-embellished sarcophagus. The nine Pyramids of the Sakkara group, though smaller than Cheops, are large enough to give any other country than Egypt an archaeological history. Egypt- ologists agree that the Step Pyramid is the oldest monu- ment in the world. It was finished seven hundred years before the Pyramids of Gizeh were begun. We rode to it through the bone-strewn wilderness, and descended a low, sloping, marble passage to its sepulchral chamber. Its picture-adorned walls are an open book to the arch- aeologist. The colors on them are bright and beautiful. Our candles disclosed on the ceiling an azure sky — a heaven in which stars of gold, cut as with a die and even- ly placed, ceaselessly passed the zenith of eternal night. As we gazed in silent, solemn wonderment, the long line of figures on the walls started into life and moved off to the same pace as the twinkling stars above ! Pliny knew what he was talking about when he spoke of "the dreadful silence of the desert." Worn out, dusty, and with minds overwhelmed with the weight of a dead world, we repassed the village on the site of ancient Memphis. There dwelt my donkey- driver, and, at his request, we made a detour to visit his DWELLING-HOUSES OF WEALTHY ARABS IN TOULON STREET, CAIRO; THE HAREM WIN- DOWS ARE OF CARVED WOODWORK 1 1 6 The Destiny of Doris home. Mrs. Wentworth and Doris were especially anx- ious to see the family of our attendant. We were taken to a windowless mud-hut in the small court of a nar- row, filthy lane. Two wives and four children consti- tuted our man's share of earthly blessings. One of the women had just returned from a funeral. She was dressed in habiliments of deepest woe and her eyes were red with weeping. The Sheik of the village was dead! Nothing could exceed the squalor of that hut. Its floor was of clay ; a fire of nameless fuel smoldered in a corner, and the four copper-hued children, nearly naked, were playing in a heap of sand near the door. "Here my home," said the donkey-driver with pride, as he motioned us to enter. We all manifested a hesi- tancy which he noticed ; and, with a touch of pathos, he added : "I know America and France; was at Chicago six months, donkey-driver at World's Fair, made much money; at Paris for Exposition, made much money; this not like your home : but this my country. I happy here and not want go America or France — Egypt, for me, is best." His love of native land was sublime. We were sorry not to have had clothing to give the children, instead of money. The lower part of the women's faces was covered, but their dark eyes were bright and young, and the devotion shown to the head of the family was marked. We rode back to the station in moody contemplation of woman's condition in Egypt. As we neared the rail- way a freight train passed, and when the locomotive Disappointments of a Mummy 1 1 7 whistled, my donkey began braying as if he'd met a rival worthy of his best efforts. Next day was given to the Gizeh Museum, where the se- crets of the graves we had seen at Sakkara and were to behold on the Upper Nile were on parade. There were assembled hundreds of mummies and de- spoiled sarcophagi. We stood cheek by jowl with Rameses IT., mightiest of Egyptian kings, who dug the first Suez Canal ! A feeling of indescrib- able humiliation seized me as I gazed upon the features of this diplomatist, warrior, and des- pot. How he would have scorned the sympathy I felt for him in his present plight. Look at his solemn face ! Though a much older man than Caesar, the resemblance to the Naples bust of the great Roman is re- markable. I recalled the stela in the British Museum, found at Dekkeh, in Nubia, upon which is set down the valorous deeds of Rameses II.; also the famous papyrus of Pentaour, upon which is immortal- ized his single-handed fight against overwhelming odds Mummy of King Rameses II. n8 The Destiny of Doris in sight of his army and that of his foe under the walls of Kades. As he has declared at Karnak, this born master of men "fixed his frontiers where he pleased." He carried fire and sword into Central Asia and Syria, taking by storm the strongholds of Ascalon and Jerusalem, if the pylon at Thebes be correctly read. "What profanation to stare at his shriveled face," said Mrs. Wentworth with a shiver, as we stood in the imme- diate presence of the great ruler. "Hope of immortality was the cause of his embalm- ing," I explained. "Like Christians and Moslems, Ram- eses believed his soul would return, after long transmigra- tions, to his mummy-case, when, arising as from sleep, he'd take up his sceptre and be king again !" "Alas ! when this sleeper awakes, his halo of earthly glory will be hard to find," was the reply. "Even a mummy may have his disappointments." "But we must remember that 'Rameses, King of Men,' has waited only three thousand years for a realization of his religious dream," interposed Blake. "His belief has not been discredited ; for what are thirty centuries in the span of eternity?" As we left that repository of dead ambition, Doris said, with a sigh : "I missed poor Cleopatra most of all." "The splendid bronze image at the head of the main stairway, is believed to be hers," answered Mrs. Went- worth. "I couldn't confirm that," was Doris' reply. "I asked one of the savants of the Museum, who was taking GREAT MONOLITH AT HELIOPOLIS. ABOUT 25 FEET IN THE GROUND, A WELL AND STAIR- WAY DESCENDS TO ITS BASE 120 The Destiny of Doris luncheon with a mummy. He listened with authority, but observed a discreet silence." "Possibly he may have feared to disturb his compan- ion," rejoined her mother. Every man we met wore the fez. It is the great lev- eler, and reduces all ranks to democratic equality. The Khedive and the humblest official, the merchant and the street-vendor, the prince and the pauper alike wear the same head covering in sunshine and in rain. Perfunctory sight-seeing included a drive to Heliopolis and its mammoth obelisk. The monolith ought to be transported to the capital and set up in a public plaza ; because it is the largest known obelisk. Its base and twenty feet of the shaft are below the surface of the ground. Valuable records are probably concealed under that monument. What is called "the Virgin's Tree" was visited on the way back to Cairo. It is a gnarled and semi-decayed sycamore, cut and broken by tourists. According to tradition, this tree stands exactly on the site of the shade that sheltered Mary and the infant Saviour during a halt in the flight from Herod. Doris' photograph shows its present condition. Nearby is a well at which the Holy Family drank. The dervishes devote Friday to worship. At the Mos- que of the Dancing Dervishes we saw twelve fanatic priests go through their laborious service. All were fair- complexioned men and spotlessly clean in their long flow- ing white cotton robes and tall brown sugar-loaf hats. The holy dozen were seated on the floor of a circular en- closure. Service began with the chanting of a passage Disappointments of a Mummy 1 2 1 from the Koran, intoned by an aged priest in a gallery. When this was finished, the worshipers rose and walked slowly round the circular arena, bowing to one another as they passed the kaba, or prayer niche. At a signal, young and old began to whirl, and continued the motion until thev fell from exhaustion. These men seemed to be Virgin's Tree, Where the Holy Family Rested earnest, pious devotees. The same could hardly be said of the Howling Dervishes, — lower types of Mohamme- dans. Their devotions were treated with derision by many Arabs present. Services were held in a court- yard, where fifteen priests, squatting on dirty sheep-skins placed upon a platform, uttered howls and grunts simi- lar to those of over-fed swine. After a time, they stood 122 The Destiny of Doris up, and, led by one of their number noted for his endur- ance, threw their bodies forward until the fingers of their outstretched hands touched the floor, asthmatically wheezing the word -Hit!" ("He, i. c, God). The word soon loses all sem- blance of its original sound. The course of study at the Univer- sity of Cairo would have many attractions for American college boys who dislike the drudgery of recita- tions and class-room discipline. An Arab student presents him- self with a copy of the Koran, a blanket, and a loaf of bread. A vacant place is assigned him on the floor-matting which becomes his dormitory while he stays. He studies when he pleases, then he sleeps or eats, after which he resumes the quest for learning. This is probably the oldest Uni- versity in the world. It was founded in 988 A. D. and was a thriving institution before Oxford opened its doors. We matriculated, by removing our shoes, and found Near Shepheard's Hotel, Cairo Disappointments of a Mummy 123 nearly 5,000 students, singly or in groups, engaged in study or meditation. "No warfare between Science and Religion exists here," whispered Doris to me. "I've been watching this man. He is pouring over a map of the United States, muttering meanwhile 'Allah ! Allah ! Nobody is greater than Allah!"' The Gay, but Short-lived Runners "Original research is unknown to the Arab," I ex- plained. "They are the mere recipients of knowledge that was antiquated when America was discovered. Their minds are thus occupied with utterly dead themes. Religion is the basis of all knowledge, and ;i year or two must be given to the Koran. The student then pro- 1 24 The Destiny of Doris ceeds to study law, which is understood to be 'a com- prehension of the precepts of God in relation to the ac- tions of men, some of which it is our duty to perform, while others are permitted or peremptorily forbidden.' 1 am quoting the definition of jurisprudence by the great- est of Arabic thinkers." "Let us find how much geography this man knows," and without further ado, Doris seated herself beside the student. When addressed, he replied courteously in French that he hailed from Mokhah, an Arabian city near the mouth of the Red Sea, and had been two years in the University. At our request, he located several of the large cities of North America; but he was unacquainted with the history of his own people, and he lacked the en- thusiasm of a real student. "I have become attached to Egypt," said Doris, as we drove back to the hotel. "The land and the climate are delightful," commented her mother; "but I cannot fall in love with the Arab, His vanity consumes him, — makes him morbid. Not content with putting women out of Heaven, he thinks earth was made for him alone, — lucky man !" FAMOUS STATUE OF FATHER NILE, WITH CROCODILE AND ICHNEUMON Chapter Ten Master of His Fate EGYPT is the Nile; and the Nile is Egypt— it is a river of gold. "Of course we shall ascend the Nile," said Mrs. Wentworth, firmly. "To come to Egypt, and not get a correct idea of the wonderful river that gives the land its life-blood would be a journey without a purpose." "It is as easy to travel from here to Khartum as from New York to Denver," was Mr. Blake's comment. "I have been making inquiries and studying the time-tables. Trains now run daily to Assouan, over six hundred miles south, — the first-class, round-trip fare being only $25, sleeping-car, $4 additional. A military road takes you round the First Cataract to Shellal. Two days on a stern-wheel boat, with plenty to eat and comfortable staterooms, land you at Wadi Haifa. A train-de-lux, with sleeping- and dining-cars, conveys you in thirty hours to Khartum, at the junction of the Blue and i?5 1 26 The Destiny of Doris White Niles. The entire distance can be covered in five days." "Our plan should be to go up the river as far as Phila?, opposite Shellal ; spend a day there, two at Assouan and Elephantine, and three at Luxor, Thebes, and Karnak," insisted Mrs. Wentworth. Preparations were soon completed. Nimble fingers prepared two traveling-suits of khaki for the ladies ; we men bought ours ready-made, and the second evening after the trip was planned our party occupied places on the train for Upper Egypt. One of the two staterooms had been secured for Mrs. Wentworth and her daughter. After night came on, I went into the smoking com- partment to enjoy a final cigar. I was soon followed by Mr. Blake. There was a constraint in his manner T had not noticed before. Though he lighted a cigar, he could not keep it afire, so preoccupied was he with his thoughts. Finally, he threw himself upon my gener- osity by saying : "My dear Mr. North, can you give me any hint of Mrs. Wentworth' s feelings toward me ?" We looked into each other's eyes for a moment and I fear there was a slight chill in my voice, as I replied, "You mean Miss Wentworth's sentiments, I presume?" "I do not!" he rejoined, curtly. "That is her affair — and mine. But her mother is quite reserved toward me. This is a matter of such vital importance that I have ventured to ask you, not because I ought to, I suppose, but — well, I must know, that's all." "Yes, I understand the situation, and don't object to your inquiry," said I, hastening to relieve the young A CALM ON THE NILE, AT MINYEH ; BOATS LADEN WITH FRUIT, TIED UP ON WESTERN BANK. AT A PALM GROVE 128 The Destiny of Doris man's embarrassment. "I would help you, but I am not in the lady's confidence sufficiently to give you a posi- tive opinion. Why don't you go to Mrs. Wentworth directly?" "1 knew you'd sav that, and I dislike to admit that I tried to have a serious talk with her, but failed. "Surely you can make an occasion?" "Apparently not; she avoids the subject, cleverly, — talks with a volubility quite unlike her at other times." "Why don't you break right into the conversation as with an axe ?" I blurted out, hardly comprehending what I was saying. '"You have a right to know." In my own mind, I pardoned the abruptness of this lan- guage. Hadn't I lost the one woman who could have brightened my life, — thrown away my happiness, mere- ly by allowing the empty prestige of a family-name to in- tervene between us? Had I shown courage and deter- mination at the proper moment, Louise would have been mine. I knew that Doris was in love with Blake, and that settled the matter in my opinion. I was so antag- onistic to any policy of evasion that kept these two young people apart that I almost felt like counseling an elope- ment. But, in an effort to dissemble, I asked : "What do you expect Mrs. Wentworth to do? She cannot offer her daughter to a man who hasn't courage enough to demand her." "I tell you, she will not allow me to ask." "I assume you are assured of Miss Wentworth's feel- ings?" "That is another matter: and it concerns me — princi- pally." There was rebellion in his voice. Master of His Fate 129 ''But, my dear sir, you have asked me to counsel you, and what is the use of going to a lawyer if you don't state your full case? However, I will say that I believe your assumption to be correct — though the young lady has not come to me for advice." A Caravan Crossing the Nile at Sobaz (Early Morning) I regretted my words after they were spoken. Man- fully did Blake resent the implication that he had vio- lated a confidence. "You are grossly unjust, sir," he almost shouted, amid the noise of the train. ''I thought you could help me, but you take advantage of my position to rebuke me. You are wrong. My purpose in making the inquiry ought to have been obvious. Look at the facts: I am 130 The Destiny of Doris a member of Mrs. Wentworth's party, by mere courtesy. If by sufferance only, I have no right to continue the com- panionship : if my presence is undesired, I would like to feel sure of the fact. Isn't that justification enough for my appeal to you?" By Osiris ! How my heart warmed toward that youngster ! He was the right sort. While he knew that his special plea did not deceive me in the slightest degree, he made it sturdily, as if he expected me to believe him. A man is taught more by failure than by success in af- fairs of love. I had weighed every reason for the loss of my cause with Louise, and traced it positively to one occasion in which I had tried to kiss her. I had not persisted. Instead of taking her by storm, as I should have done, I had affected an indifference that she assumed to be real. She never was the same thereafter, and finally ceased to care for me. While I was reviewing all these incidents of my life, Blake was talking. He employed more force than logic, and, by the impetuosity of his words, laid bare his hopes and ambitions in life. Although Doris' name was not mentioned, he admitted his determination to marry, with a confidence that could not be misunderstood. Tact- fully, he intimated that he had aimed to secure my respect because of a sincere hope that our relations might some- day become more closely identified. I affected not to un- derstand this suggestion that I marry Doris' mother. He had probably read love for Louise in my eyes, just as I had seen in his the ardor of his passion for Doris. The night-air grew cold, and we closed the shutters ATTITUDE OF SILENT PRAYER, IN THE MOSQUE, INTERRUPTED AT INTERVALS BY BOWING THE FOREHEAD TO THE FLOOR 132 The Destiny of Doris and windows, to exclude the sand and the chill ; but the impalpable dust, so intimately associated with the Afri- can desert, would find its way into a burglar-proof safe. It occasioned the only discomfort of an otherwise charm- ing trip. Blake's conversation awakened so many memories, that I did not reckon time. Sleep doesn't come when two men have a theme of mutual interest upon which they delight to hear themselves talk. My position as advisor to a youngster just half my age was novel and interesting. It was the first oppor- tunity I had ever enjoyed to impart, under the guise of generalities, my views of life, revised by keen experience and thoughtful observation. Here was a young man, with an assured fortune which he had only to safeguard. Marriage was a natural and desirable condition. I braced him up in every possible way. "The moment you are sure of the love of the woman you want to make your wife, marry," was my advice. "Don't temporize. Remember, 'La Donna e mobile' " — and I sang the first line of the aria. "Assuming that I am thus assured, how far should a prospective mother-in-law be allowed to affect the nat- ural course of events?" "The fifth commandment probably applies to mothers- in-law, actual or prospective. The mantle of charity enshrouds them. They should be honored ; but when mutual love has declared itself between a man and a w t o- man, entitled to wed, no power on earth should keep them apart. Wooing is not for laggards. It should be fierce and impetuous. A woman respects boldness in a man in Master of His Fate 133 the court of love. She who has to be won by a protracted seige is generally fickle, — at least uncertain of her own mind. It is dangerous to wed a girl who thinks she is the only woman in the world ! She rates her charms so highly that she is ever-watchful for new students of the rare in beauty. Such a woman nearly always ends bv taking pity on some other man than her hus- band, who tells her that the begetting of angels is a mystery of the skies and that she is a divine creation. The Same Plough Their Ancestors Used She falls into the trap that her own vanity sets for her — rather, I should say, walks into it knowingly." "Surely, you would not have woman without vanity?" queried Blake. "No, indeed; nor man. Vanity alone saves mankind from hopeless despair. Think of a whole race rising every morning and contemplating itself with entire serenity. Looking into a mirror does away with care. The wise man will encourage true vanity in his wife — a desire to look better than any other woman, because 134 The Destiny ot Doris there is competition. It is not an easy task. He will dress her to the limit of his means. In no way can he better show his pride in her. He will never omit an op- portunity of displaying the delight he feels in her sweet companionship. Happy homes are not all made by wives." "Your enthusiasm imparts itself to me," exclaimed Blake. "Why did you never marry ?" It was my turn to throw up my hood, cobra-like ; but looking at Blake, I saw he meant to square accounts for what he fancied had been an impertinence on my part. Therefore, I retorted, "Because I was a fool. As the blind reckon back to the day they lost their sight, so do I date my return to reason from the hour my eyes were opened. I have had plenty of time to recognize the fact that instead of de- voting the best years of my life to building up my club, I might have created a home and been of use to other people. Now it may be too late for me, so I wave the danger-signal to you." "The Bard has said 'There is Yet in the word Here- after.' " "There's more sentiment than philosophy, more beauty than truth, in that bit of phrasing. Who can restore me the years that are gone? A practical philosophy de- clares that we have 'only one life to live ;' despite its tautology, that dictum contains the kernel of my theory of human existence." Rising to lower the shutters, I added, "Is the moon up?" "No, 'tis morning!" exclaimed Blake. A flood of daylight entered the car. Far eastward, THE PULPIT AND PRAYER NICHE IN THE CREAT MOSQUE, WHERE THE KHEDIVE COMES IN OCTOBER AND PERFORMS HIS DEVOTIONS 136 The Destiny of Doris the glorious sun, as only seen in Africa, was bristling like a golden porcupine over the tops of the Arabian Mountains. When I went into the small sitting-room at the end of the car, I found Miss Wentworth studying the vast pan- orama spread out before her on the western side of the train. "The people of this region were busy before daylight," she began. "I dressed and slipped in here to see the sun rise, and was well rewarded for my trouble. But I found the farmers ahead of me ; camels, oxen, men, and women were hard at work. Flocks of sheep and herds of cattle were browsing in the fields ; the buffalo cows, with their inverted horns, small heads, and double- humped shoulders, were busy at the pumps. Artificial irrigation, planned on a stupendous scale, indicates the control that this thrifty race tries to exercise over the precious Nile-water." "It has been a problem with the Egyptian for five thousand years," was my comment, "but the English will solve it when they complete the series of dams on the UpperNile, now contemplated." Miss Wentworth looked more charming than usual in a sage-green khaki traveling gown. She was what Her- rick would have called "beauty. in disorder," but pretty as one of Greuze's maidens, grown from a precocious co- quetry into the full possession of wit and sense. She was of that age in which a girl is always attractive. Ex- cusing myself, I returned to the compartment where I had left Blake. I found him intently watching the land- scape. Master of His Fate 137 "The place for you to study the beautiful in nature, is at the other end of this car," said I. "If I were you, I'd go there." Blake divined my meaning and disappeared. I stretched myself on the cushions and forgot the past and present. View of Girgeh, on the Nile, Where Much Foreign Capital is Invested In the next hundred miles, the course of the Nile, as it wandered aimlessly to and fro across the luxuriant valley, was marked by clumps of bananas and palms. Cliffs a thousand feet high defined the Arabian Moun- tains, and their water-worn sides indicated the majesty of the river in a geologic period antedating the oldest monuments of Egypt. Every inch of this valley, which 138 The Destiny of Doris varies in width from two miles to ten, is a continuous village during seeding time and harvest. The first planting occurs as soon as the river subsides, leaving the flats coated with the reddish-brown sediment, which so enriches the soil, though its smell is sicken- ing to European nostrils. Farmers leave their homes on the sterile hill-sides and hurry into the damp valley to sow rye, wheat, and barley. Their families follow as soon as shelter from the sun by day and the cold winds by night can be prepared. There they remain until the crops are gathered; then artificial irrigation begins and a second harvest occurs early in April. The small hand- sickle is the only implement used in the Nile Valley, though progressive farmers on the Delta now employ planting, cultivating, harvesting, and threshing machines. By May, the land is seamed with cracks made by the heat ; the air is hot as a furnace, and existence becomes intolerable. When the Nile rises, in the middle of June, all the mud huts and straw shelters melt into the sur- rounding plain. It is a country where the trees are leafless in summer and abloom in winter. During the afternoon's ride from Luxor to Assouan, a panorama of temples passed before us. At Esneh and Edfu were ruins that would be worth going to Egypt to see, did not those at Thebes, Luxor, Karnak, and Philae exist. At some points, the Arabian Mountains ap- proached the stream closely, entailing serious difficulties in the construction of the railway. The path had been blasted through the pinkish limestone, and thousands of tons of overhanging cliffs, which threatened to over- ARMED GUARD AT THE HAREM DOOR OF A WEALTHY ARAB'S DWELLING IN THE TOULON QUARTER OF THE EGYPTIAN CAPITAL i/j-O The Destiny of Doris whelm the roadway, had been blown into the river with dynamite. Gorges were crossed on iron bridges, the rails clinging to the cliffs' sides directly over the Nile. At Nag Kaguk the steel line forsook the river-bank and struck boldly eastward, across nine miles of desert. A bad half hour! Despite the heat, windows had to be closed, because the sand was flying in clouds. Assouan, on the Nubian frontier, is a town of 5,000 inhabitants, representing every African and European race. The modern section is hardly six years old, but it contains three large hotels and a fine Government building. Direct telegraphic communication exists with Cairo. The Arab quarter is behind a row of shops that overlook the river, and its narrow streets are roofed against the sun — for rain hasn't fallen there since the memory of man. Its bazaars are filled with wares from the farthest Soudan. The ethnological feature of this frontier-outpost is a camp of Bischareens, where those untamable children of the desert are kept under an un- suspected surveillance. Never saw I such contrasting facial hideousness and physical beauty. Many of the younger men might have served as models for the best ex- amples of Greek sculpture. This was the remnant of a large tribe, the other members of which had to be killed, much to the regret of the British commanders, because they would not surrender. The long narrow island of Elephantine, once the cap- ital of all Egypt, faces Assouan. After dinner, an English military-band played in a kiosk on the alameda, high above the Nile. The two young people walked on the esplanade under the stars. A LADY OF THE "SMART SET" IN CAIRO'S " 150" TAKING TEA IN HER BOUDOIR 142 The Destiny of Doris Their increased interest in each other was unmistak- able. "What a glorious night!" exclaimed Doris. "Every hut and tree on Elephantine stands in bold relief against the sky.'' "It is bright enough to read by starlight." "Did you notice how the sun lingered over that ruined temple at the southern end of the island?" she asked. "Indeed, I did; it disappeared regretfully, — " " — but suddenly," interrupted Miss Wentworth, "Twilight is brief here, for the Tropic of Cancer crosses the river only a few miles up-stream. Listen ! We are having a serenade from the river." "Yes, the frogs of Assouan are rendering the chorus from the comedy of Aristophanes : he was an Egyptian by adoption, you know," replied Blake, intending to fol- low with the college shout from "The Frogs" ; but Doris, quicker than he, gave it faultlessly : " 'Brekekekex ! Coax, Coax ! Brekekekex ! Coax, Coax !' " "Alas! only the noisy frogs remain in what was once true elephant-land," she continued. "Here the pachy- derm was hunted for his skin and ivory. These frogs are 'descended from royal amphibian ancestry,' but they do not replace the artful crocodile and the guileless ele- phant." "I suppose the crocodiles have been killed and made up into wallets," said Blake. "I wonder who buys them?" said Doris. "I don't any more, because they always crawl out my pocket and lose themselves." A WARM DAY AT ASSOUAN, NEAR THE FIRST CATARACT (A STUDY IN WHITE LIGHTS) 144 The Destiny of Doris "I sadly miss the saurian of the Nile," said Blake. "I expected to find him here. We have the alligator in Flor- ida. The crocodile and his enemy, the ichneumon, are associated with this river. Another myth, I suppose!" "The island is real enough to check disillusionment," commented Doris. "Here was the key to Nubia, — a city of a million people. The roar of the First Cataract rang in the ears of countless warriors who guarded this defile. Every one of the sixty centuries in its history had its temples and its altars — " "I say, Miss Wentworth, don't you think we've had a deal too much of antiquity during the past week?" Blake began, courageously. But when Doris turned to look at him, he stammered, "The present is so satisfactory, I mean, that we might at least consider it." "In Egypt the past is always the present," replied Doris, after the manner of an oracle. "I shall like Nu- bia, because it is the land that kept its secret longest." "Yes, I understand ; and I am thoroughly in sym- pathy with your fancies, but I'd like to sit down and talk to you about — about ourselves, for instance." Blake had profited by my advice. "I haven't the faintest idea what I could say about myself," added Doris, with provoking naivete, "except that I shouldn't care to study Egyptology here in sum- mer, pleasant as the weather is now." She seated herself on a bench overlooking the mysteri- ous, silent river. "I wouldn't mind the season, if we studied it under the same conditions," said Blake. "I haven't been able A TURKISH DANCING GIRL, IN A MUSIC HALL AT ASSOUAN. SHE IS FINISHING THE PRE- LUDE TO THE COUCHI-COUCHI 146 The Destiny of Doris to concentrate my thoughts on anything but you, since — " "How curious!" she mused, half-banteringly and with a hearty laugh ; but finding that Blake, seating himself beside her, attempted to place his arm round her waist, Doris affected coyness and rose precipitately, as if to re- turn to the hotel. Vernon Blake had become a man of definite purpose. He was sure of his own heart, and he felt the moment had come to learn his fate. Therefore he slipped his arm resolutely in hers and led her back to where they had been seated, saying abruptly, "Oh, Doris, you must listen ! Don't you know, can't vou see, that to travel in this strange land with you makes me infinitely happy?" "Perhaps it's the romantic surroundings, Mr. Blake? This place is so weirdly beautiful." They were in the pretty parklet on the banks of the Nile. Palm trees cast broad shadows over them. "Not at all ; you have inspired this joy in my heart — a sweet tender dream, from which I never want to awaken. Doris, I love you !" "I have had a suspicion of the fact, Mr. Blake," she replied, with an assumed calmness, as she turned her girlish face toward his, telling him her love with her eyes in language more fervent than speech. Blake seized her trembling hands : "I have come six thousand miles, Doris, to ask you to be my wife." In another instant, shielded chiefly by the impetuous ardor of his act, Vernon Blake had taken her in his Master of His Fate 147 arms and kissed her! And she, though endowed with the strength of an athlete, gloried in the tradi-. tional weakness of her sex which excused acquiescence. The stars alone saw ; and if any ears heard, the words that were uttered conveyed no meaning. Croup of Dancing Dervishes at Cairo Doris fled precipitately across the alameda into the hotel and to her room. There Mrs. Went worth found her in an ecstacy of joy. Blake's address that night was Elysium. MR. NORTH AND TWO SOUDANESE ON A TRAM-CAR, AT THE GREAT DAM Chapter Eleven On the Sacred Isle I MSHI! Gladstone!" "Basta!. McKinley !" Donkey-boys and dragomen congregated in front of the hotel as soon as the sun was up, and engaged in a general row. They waited with impa- tience for us to breakfast; afterward, wearing our cork helmets, we mounted and took a temporary leave of Egypt. The broad road to the First Cataract leads through a series of graveyards. Hundreds of natives were met, hurrying from their huts among the hills to Assouan, where they found employment at honest labor or beg- ging. The scene recalled Gibraltar and the drove of Spanish workmen crossing the Neutral Ground. Above the First Cataract is the great Nile dam, a mile and a quarter long, which places a wall ioo feet high be- tween the lower river and its vast Central African wa- tershed. A reservoir will be created of a hundred On the Sacred Isle 149 square miles, wherein will be retained the water for use as needed in the valley between Assouan and Cairo. Heretofore, the Nile ran atlood for three months. All the resources of the watershed were exhausted, and the arable land was saved from utter drought only by artificial irrigation, — the water pumped from the river. The barrage is constructed of the red Assouan granite, taken from two hundred quarries. Eighty sluices enable the engineers to regulate the flow of the Nile to the nicety of a gallon. "Water and prosperity go hand in hand," is an Egyptian maxim. This great undertaking furnished work for 15,000 natives for four years, and its final c o s t will ex- ceed $10,000,000; but the money will have b e e n w e 1 1 s p e n t, because a very large "flood- crop area" in Up- per Egypt will be endowed with per- ennial water, and a third crop will be added to most of the Nile Yalh_\ ! Lord Milner esti- mates the d i r e c t gain in increased land-tax a1 $1,900,000 a year, and that the value of reclaimed Government lands will be An Egyptian Beauty, Seeing Life on the Nubian Frontier 150 The Destiny oi Doris augmented by $5,000,000. Not only will the entire agricultural system of Egypt be revolutionized, but the use of machinery will become imperative if three crops are to be planted, grown, and harvested an- nually. The forked-stick plow and the hand-sickle must give way to the most improved modern imple- ments. The scheme has been financed in such a man- ner that the Egyptian Government has thirty years in which to pay for the work. England will do for Egypt more than she has done for Tndia ! Another dam will be constructed above the Second Cataract, at Wadi Haifa,, creating an additional storage-reservoir. Not a gallon of Nile water will es- cape without rendering service to Egypt ! After we had watched the native boys diving and swimming the rapids, we compared opinions. "What do you think of the Cataract?" Mrs. Went- worth was asked. "Reminds me of the Mohawk at Little Falls," she an- swered. "Lucian, the Greek Gulliver, misled posterity by de- scribing this rapid as an area of awe-inspiring whirlpools and cataracts," volunteered Mr. Blake. "He was an apt pupil of Homer." Doris took some photographs. Afterward, we set out, in the torrid heat, for Phite. The road soon passed into a weird and spooky region. Great white boulders, piled in cairns twenty to forty feet high, were stained black in spots as by the hands of man. The ladies suffered dur- ing that brief journey over the burning-hot sands. The muie-drivers were barefoot. On the Sacred Isle 151 "I'm sorry for my poor donkey-boy," said Doris, sym- pathetically. "That he business," rejoined the dragoman, curtly. The boy trotted on. panting like a howling dervish, un- conscious of his gentle mistress' solicitude. The Arab is kind to animals, because so enjoined by the Koran. His fellow-man he cares nothing about. Western Channel of the First Cataract, Above the Great Barrage After a stay in Africa, one could write a book on the donkey and his driver. They are the real workers in the land. Shellal is a nest of mud huts, huddled in the sand un- der a clump of palms. It was a busy place that day, because two boats had arrived from Wadi 1 lalfa. Across 152 The Destiny of Doris the narrow arm of the river, the Sacred Isle was plainly visible. Philse is the pearl of the Nile! Not so large as a city block, the island contains more of the history of Egypt than can be found elsewhere between the Medi- terranean and the Victoria Lake. Every age, beginning with the IVth Dynasty (3000 B. C), and ending with the Roman Occupation, has left its stamp. The ancient Egyptian who wished to take an oath that would bind him and his soul for eternity, always swore "By Him who sleeps in Philae!" The modern Arabs attach in- terest to the island as the scene of a famous tale in "The Thousand and One Nights," — extending from the 371st to the 380th nights, the Burton Edition. Therein is recounted the gratitude of a crocodile and a dove for the kindness shown the animal kingdom by the lover of a princess immured in this Temple of Isis. We hired a boat and crossed the rapid stream to the Sacred Isle. Doris and I climbed a flight of steps from the riverside to the Kiosk, — the chief decorative feature of the island, though its lily-shaped capitals date only from Trajan's day. " 'This is the most perfect structure we shall see on the Nile," I read aloud to Doris from the guide book, "and stands to-day just as it was left, uncompleted. Here the Romans took their tea.' " When Mrs. Wentworth and Blake joined us, we fol- lowed a path through the gate of Philadelphus and emerged before the first pylon of the Temple of Isis, familiar to every student of antiquity. This sacred build- ing antedated the introduction of the arch; its massive SACRED ISLE OF PHIL^E; ITS RUINS SUMMARIZE THE HISTORY OF EGYPT. TEMPLE OF ISIS IN THE FORE- GROUND, THE KIOSK ON THE RIGHT 154 The Destiny of Doris square doors have no rivals, except at Karnak. Enter- ing the fore-court, we passed up a slight ascent to the door of the second pylon and into the Hypostyle Hall, the most perfectly preserved ruin in Egypt. Here the clock of time has stopped! The paint on the decorated ceiling is as fresh as if penciled yesterday. The lotus- shaped capitals of its columns, which we seem to have known since childhood, are aglow with the brightest pigments. A clever hand wrought these wonders of stonework. By exaggerating the length of the capitals and giving the columns excessive girth, the wily architect deceived the eye as to the height of the apartment. Without these artifices, the room would have appeared crowded with these huge columns, and the ceiling, formed of immense slabs of cut stone, would have made the air heavy with its weight. "How does this temple impress you?" I asked, turn- ing to the ladies of our party. "I am overcome with the grandeur of this hall," Mrs. Wentworth found voice to say. "How sad that the name of the Michael Angelo of Philse should have been lost to posterity !" "The tender half-tones of the Alhambra. which aroused so much enthusiasm in me, must be forgotten when looking at the coral-pinks, Nile-greens, and turquois-blues I find here," said Doris, a tone of regret in her voice. "These walls contain hundreds of square yards of hieroglyphic inscriptions, colored pictures, and bas re- liefs," said Mr. Blake, who had been exploring the re- cesses of the temple on his own account. "Here the chronology of a dead religion and an absolutely extinct On the Sacred Isle 155 civilization ! Like the Rosetta Stone, found near Alex- andria, here is the key to the cuneiform and hieroglyphic inscriptions of Egypt. This temple is a diary of the past twenty-five centuries, for the hieroglyphics are sup- plemented by Greek and Roman inscriptions. The French add a record of the visit of a portion of Marshal Shellal, as Seen from Philae ; a Wretched Arab Village, Ter- minus of the Military Railway, and Starting-point by Boat for Wadi Halfa Desaix's army, — the immortal Desaix, killed at Marengo after he regained a battle that was lost." Where nobody comes to-day to worship, the altars of Isis stood ready for service at an appointed hour. We assembled in the inner sanctuary, about the sacrificial stone, that, in the half-darkness, looked moist with the blood of victims. 156 The Destiny of Doris "When Egypt was Christianized (400 A. D.), the edict of Theodosius of Constantinople was ignored at Philae," began Doris, who had informed herself upon the history of the place. "Though forbidden, under the pain of death, to perform the sacred rites, priests of Isis and Osiris walked these stately halls and offered their sacri- fices until the hand of the conqueror smote them. Many died around this altar ; others were thrown to the croco- diles, with which the river then swarmed ; temples were plundered, statues and obelisks were destroyed, and pic- tures on these walls were often wantonly defaced. The same spirit of intolerance was shown that we shall see in Rome. For centuries Philae was overrun by all classes of religious fanatics; beautiful structures of an- tiquity were demolished to make room for adobe sanc- tuaries. A mud chapel was actually erected on the roof of this very temple! Philae ceased to be Christian dur- ing the Middle Ages, and despoilment ended." "Mahomet has supplanted the ancient gods," I said, when we had returned to the Hypostyle Hall; for the Arab custodian of the temple that moment piously pros- trated himself, facing the northeast (the direction of Mecca), and bent his forehead in humility to the pave- ment. His was a prayer to the God of Moses and Ma- homet. By that act, he repudiated the worship of beasts and stone ! "Great is Allah !" murmured our dragoman, with the utmost reverence. From the stone roof of the Temple of Isis, Doris took a photograph of the village of Shellal, across the Nile. We strolled through an avenue of columns to an obe- MR. NORTH AT THE GATEWAY OF THE FIRST PYLON, TEMPLE OF ISIS, ATTENDED BY HIS DRAGOMAN AND THE ARAB GUARDIAN OF PHILyt i58 The Destiny of Doris lisk, at the southern end of the island, and looked up the river toward Wadi Haifa. The Arab guardian of Philse, white-robed, as his re- ligion commanded, bade us adieu at the temple-gate, received his fee, and sought his solitary abode under a corner of the sanctuary. At night, he is the only living creature on the island. There he has spent thirty years, — a good Mohammedan, and in contemptuous ignorance of the ancient Egyptian religions. "Memory is the food of life," said Mrs. Wentworth, Second Pylon, Temfle of Isis, Philab as our boat pushed off from the shore. "I shall live upon this day's recollections for months." " 'By Him who sleeps in Philse ;' so shall I." GRANDEST GROUP OF RUINS ON EARTH i THE TEMPLE AT LUXOR Chapter Twelve In a Temple Bazaar AT Assouan, we missed the flowers and the ver- dure that make Lower Egypt a land of de- light to the eye. Not a blossoming plant exists. The air is too dry, and the heat of the day too torrid. Dates are the only fruit ; oranges are brought from the orchards in the Delta. A surprising change of temperature occurs after dark ; the intolerable heat of the ride to Philae was succeeded after our return by a fall in the thermometer of 22 de- grees. I slept under double blankets. Awakened by the shouts of water-carriers filling their pigskins in the river, Doris opened her window and gazed across the placid Nile to the. sun-lighted shores of Elephantine. With her camera, she preserved the scene. Seven o'clock had struck, the orb of day was ablaze, and the town was astir with human life. After breakfast, a boat carried us to the Elephant Isl- and, once the treasure-house where was hoarded the 159 160 The Destiny of Doris ivory brought from the Upper Nile. Here was the metropolis of Egypt during the Vlth Dynasty. Its pots- herds gave to Egyptologists the details of the Greek and Roman Occupations. Its tablets have served as glos- saries for all the languages of Upper Egypt. A roll containing parts of Book XVIII of the Iliad, discov- ered on this island, is in the Louvre at Paris, and the British Museum has been enriched by its treasures. Two wretched villages, in which only the languages of Nubia are spoken, remain of what was once a great city. Across the main branch of the Nile the eternal sands of the Lybian Desert come to the water's edge. Leaving Elephantine at a quay built by the Romans, we hurried to Assouan, caught a train for Luxor, and in six hours were comfortably installed at the real temple- bazaar of Egypt. Our minds were still busy with the wonders of Philae ; but Luxor, Karnak, and Thebes all in a group never can suffer by comparison with any other ruins. "How incredible that we are actually here," mused Mrs. Wentworth, as we sat taking our coffee next morning under a bower of orchids, hedged by a row of palms. "The railway has made Luxor quite accessible to New York. This place has always seemed so far away — so much imagination and so little fact — that I have even doubted the photographs of these stupendous temples." "The camera has not exaggerated," commented Mr. Blake. "I rose early and walked to the Temple of Luxor, less than half a mile from where we sit. I as- sure you, your wildest expectations will be realized." ISLAND OF ELEPHANTINE. ONCE SITE OF A MIOHTY CITY. TAKEN BY DORIS FROM HER HOTEL WINDOW AT EARLY MORNING 1 62 The Destiny of Doris Whole libraries have been written on the grandeur of the Egyptian remains in this part of the Nile Valley. All the ruins within donkey-ride of Luxor can be seen in two or three days ; but to have explored old Thebes must have required as much time as would be needed to examine modern London. Like the British capital, Thebes was built on two sides of a river. The circum- ference of its walls must have exceeded fifty miles. Homer thus refers to its size : "The hundred-gated Thebes, where twice ten score in martial state Of valiant men with steeds and cars march through each massy gate." Thebes had half a million dwelling-houses and vast public squares about its palaces. Long vistas of mam- moth sphinxes formed the approaches of its temples, Whether Thebes was Karnak or Karnak Thebes, or whether these names were given to the same great city at different stages of its history, is unimportant when you visit them. Thebes represents the resplendent mid- dle-period of Egyptian art. Everything antedating its transcendant supremacy led up to Thebes, and its de- cadence marked the decline of all Egypt, under count- less ''occupations," until the recent hour in which Eng- land undertook the task of its redemption. "Thebes" is a word that represents the culmination of everything Egyptian — a satisfaction-piece for the mortgage that the Pyramids issue upon the credulity of the visitor to Egypt. Its art, unlike any other; its architecture, gigan- GRANDEST ARCHITECTURAL WONDER OF THE WORL-D-THE KARNAK GATEWAY; WITH ITS RECORDS OF HUMAN ACHIEVEMENT 1 64 The Destiny of Doris tic to the verge of a nightmare, and at variance with every rule of Greece and Rome ; reaches its sublimity at Thebes, — speaking of Karnak as part of Thebes, whether historically correct or not. We study art by the mile at Versailles. At Thebes, we delve into architecture of such mammoth proportions as to overcome the senses and cause a human atom to sigh for the thousand eyes of those prehistoric creatures provided with visual or- gans far in excess of their opportunities. Only Egypt- ologists have full license to describe this sacred grove where deity was enthroned as nowhere else — where many gods did walk ! Writers who essay this theme should be men who have consecrated their lives to a study of every phase of the human heart — lost am- bition, dead hope, patience that endured, courage that never wavered, hardship that chilled the blood, cruelty indescribable, and religion attaining the sublimest ideals of fanatic beauty. To understand the lay of the land, Luxor must be regarded as a composite whole, which includes Karnak and Thebes. Luxor is the name of the modern town, and a radius of three miles, struck from its principal hotel, in- cludes all places of interest on both sides of the Nile. Inscribe a circle and draw a waved line through it, slightly to the left of the center, to represent the Nile. Then locate the monuments. On the right bank looms the Temple of Luxor, and to the north are the stupend- ous ruins called Karnak. Between and far beyond these monuments once stretched the streets of ancient Thebes. On the west bank are the mortuary temples and the Ne- cropolis, or rock-hewn Campo-Santo. On the moun- In a Temple Bazaar l6 = tain-side are the despoiled Tombs of the Kings, and in the valley sit the lonely Colossi of Memnon. Nothing that the human hand has ever fashioned ex- actly equals the Great Hall at Karnak. Examples might be cited that are more finitely ex- quisite, — such as the Taj at Agra, the Par- thenon at A t h e n s, Notre Dame de Paris ; the Cathedral at .Milan, the Alhani- bra at Granada or the Pantheon at Rome ; but the Hall of Pil- lars is more imposing than any or all of these. Tested as to its immensity ; the bold lines in which it was cast ; the courage with w h i c h it was conceived, and the vastness of detail with which its plans were executed, the Pyramids, Colosseum, and St. Peters are dwarfed into in- significance ! The doorway, still standing, is the first wonder of the ancient world — no matter who nanus the other six. Who raised its lintel-stone? What system of physics enabled the builder to set those capitals? A Married Woman of Luxor ; Met Among the Shops 1 66 The Destiny of Doris famous Egyptologist truly said, in speaking of his emo- tions on entering that corridor of majestic columns: — "I have shrunk to the feebleness of a fly !" We gave the second day to the western bank of the river and its three groups of ruins, — Goornah, opposite Karnak ; the Rameseum, almost facing Luxor, and Medi- net-Haboo, a mile south of the Colossi, which Herodotus so accurately described ! Then we climbed the base of the Lybian hills to the Theban Necropolis, and, behind a spur of sandstone cliff, sought out the Tombs of the Kings. The best guide book for that jaunt is Ebers' "Uarda," the author having lived in one of those tombs ! Taking our luncheon in the shadow of the towering Colossi, the conversation assumed a thoroughly modern vein. "This is the scarabaei market of Egypt," I remarked. "Who has bought any?" "Not I," answered Mrs. Wentworth, promptly. "I prefer to get mine at the Gizeh Museum, even if they are more costly." "I have secured a rare specimen for my old friend Colonel Corkins, of Ohio," was my confession. "He divides his time between Congressional duty and ento- mology. When I send him this stone beetle with four eyes and six ridges down its back, he will be happy for a week classifying it. He is a monomaniac on beetles! A rival once defeated a pet bill of his by asking him to leave the House at a critical moment to see a bug with two tails." "Who is this Colonel Corkins?" asked Mrs. Went- THE COLOSSI: FIGURES FOR THE PYLON OF A MAMMOTH TEMPLE; ROCK-HEWN TOMBS ON THE FACE OF THE CLIFFS; SCENE OF EBERS' "UARDA" 1 68 The Destiny of Doris worth in all seriousness. "I don't seem to recall his name." "There is but one like him anywhere," I replied; "he is an example of the oddities to be found only at Wash- ington." "Speaking of scarabaei, the neatest things I have seen are the beetle paper-weights," said Blake. "I have se- cured an assortment. They are the only decorative trophies I have found." "Exactly my experience," commented Doris. "Isn't it strange that Luxor doesn't produce something that visitors can take home ?" "Not at all," explained her mother. "The present Luxorians have fifty centuries of a Past to which they can 'point with pride' — and that's considerable capital. Those old temples bring more profits into town than all the sugar refineries and silk mills along the Nile. These people couldn't have had a better advance-agent than Rameses II." "We hear of a few other kings, it is true," said Blake, "but Rameses II. still has the call. He is the central fig- ure of Egyptian history. As Sesostris, all the brave deeds of three centuries of other heroes were ascribed to him." We were all silent, our imaginations busy with the mental picture of Rameses trying to fit halos on his brow. "I am sure that wasn't his fault," urged Doris, coming to the defense of the King of Kings, "for we saw the story of his life from childhood to the grave portrayed on the towers of Luxor. Can you ever forget the pag- In a Temple Bazaar 169 eantry of that triumphal return after a glorious vic- tory?" "The pictures were a panorama of death," commented Mrs. Went- worth. "Carnage on all sides ; the foe always flee- ing, w i t h o u t hope of q u a r t e r, — for the 'Be- loved of Amnion' w a s above human laws and knew not mercy." "Were I Khedive of Egypt," exclaimed Blake, with enthusiasm, "I'd give old Rameses II. the loftiest monument the world has ever known. Instead of exposing h i s grinning cadaver to pub- lic gaze, I'd swing the Pyramids into a square and build them higher than the clouds of heaven, to do honor to his name." Our stay at Luxor lengthened into four days, every hour of which will always be memorable, eral times and to the river's bank, whence we could study Daughter of the Shiek of Modern Memphis; Sakkara in Back- ground We went to the temple sev- 170 The Destiny of Doris the plain on the other shore, so admirably shown in my view of the marvelous Colossi. At the hotel, we break- fasted under the trees, and, excepting on the day of the Thebes-trip, rested in-doors during the noon-time heat. "I couldn't get into my Gladstone bag this morning," said Doris. "I had forgotten the combination." "What are you talking about?" queried her mother. "I didn't take my keys on the long donkey ride to the Tombs of the Kings yesterday," was the reply. "I locked the bag, put the key in a bureau drawer, locked the bu- reau and hid its key on the top shelf of the wardrobe ; locked the wardrobe and put its key where I cannot find it. If I could remember, I'd be all right. Can it be that this African sun is affecting my head?" "What is that key on the string of Bisharin beads about your neck?" asked Blake. "Ah ! It's the key to the combination," said Doris, laughing. While in Cairo, I had applied to the Egyptian Govern- ment for permission to traverse the recently completed Military Railway across the Nubian Desert, from Wadi Haifa to the neighborhood of Khartum. Many days passed, however, and the formalities were unsettled when the hour arrived for our departure on the Nile-journey. I could not consent to delay, but directed that my mail be forwarded to Luxor. To my joy, the fourth day's post brought me the cov- eted permit for the Soudan-journey. I was aware that the document might not be demanded, but other travelers had been turned back at Wadi Haifa, and I did not care THE AVENUE OF COLUMNS AT KARNAK. SHOW- ING FALLING PILLAR. WHICH WEALTHY AR- CHAEOLOGIST WILL REPLACE IT? 172 The Destiny of Doris to lose time. The fare exacted is sufficiently prohibitive to prevent triflers from going to Khartum. I had less than an hour to catch the train for Assouan, but I took it. Acting on my advice, Mrs. Wentworth, her daughter, and Mr. Blake engaged passage to Cairo on a Nile-steamer, leaving next day. It would proceed leisurely, stopping en route at several places of interest. Thus we separated for ten days. The ladies were traveling light. Heavy luggage had been left at Cairo during the Nubian invasion. When Mrs. Wentworth entered a carriage to drive to the Nile- boat, a young man approached. He bowed officiously, and said, "Bon voyage, Madame!" She thanked the stranger, though there was a tone in his voice that annoyed her. "What does this fellow want?" she asked Doris, as her daughter appeared. Unabashed, the attendant repeated his good wishes, and when Doris stared at him, he added, "I had the honor of preparing madame's bill." Immunity from further annoyance was purchased with a few piastres. Though the stay had been brief, the candidates for "tips" were many. The chambe.rmaid, hall-boy, cook, table-waiter, head waiter, interpreter, a porter who had carried the luggage up-stairs, another who brought it down, and a third who placed it in the carriage expected and received small amounts. " 'It is more blessed to give than to receive,' and I am only heeding the precept," said Doris, in answer to her mother's protests. GROUP OF DANCING GIRLS THAT ENTERTAINED THE WENTWORTH PARTY IN THE HOTEL AT LUXOR; THEY KNEW THE ENGLISH WORD "MONEY" GLIMPSE OF THE KIOSK AT PHIL^, FROM A NILE-BOAT AT SHELLAL Chapter Thirteen Under the Southern Cross THE reconquest of the Soudan by the Sirdar, Sir Herbert (now Lord) Kitchener, was rendered possible by the firm hold main- tained by the Egyptians on Wadi Haifa, — a military station on the Nile at the Second Cataract. The Italians precipitated that conflict. Hard pressed by the Abysinnians, and the dervishes having be- gun an agitation at Kassala which seriously threatened their line of communication with the Red Sea at Mas- sawa, Italy, in this dilemma, appealed to the British Government to make a demonstration south of Haifa to relieve this menace. The movement, at once under- taken, soon developed into a project for the reoccupa- tion of Dongola by the Anglo-Egyptian forces. Before many months, the conflict was seen to involve the recon- quest of Khartum. A two-years' campaign — necessarily in the hot season, because the Nile is then in flood, and involving terrible hardships on the native as well as on the British troops, i74 Under the Southern Cross 175 who finally had to be brought into the conflict— re- sulted in regaining all the ground in the Soudan that had been lost to Egypt by the series of disasters beginning with the obliteration of Hicks Pasha's army, and the death of Gordon. The occupation of Dongola, the capture of Abu Hamed and of Berber, and the great battle near the mouth of the Atbara (April 7, 1898) are occur- rences too recent to need further reference. As the troops advanced, the railway was laid behind them, and Two Tired Companions, Who Made the Trip From Assouan to Shellal with Mr. North gunboats were hauled through the rapids. Civilization and conquest went hand in hand. The terrible Nubian desert between Wadi Haifa and Abu I lamed— recalled 176 The Destiny of Doris by persons familiar with the map as the point at which the river makes a long detour to the westward — was finally crossed by 227 miles of steel rails, which had been laid upon iron ties — placed in the sand — and bolted to- gether in such a way as to provide for expansion in daylight and for contraction at night. Thence the road was pushed south, mile by mile, until its terminus came in sight of the Mahdi's capital, at the confluence of the Blue and White Niles. When informed that a permit had been granted to me to travel on the Military Railway across the Nubian Des- ert, I took hasty leave of my friends at Luxor, promis- ing to rejoin them at Cairo. Doubling on my track to Assouan, I reached there at dark, and ascertained that a steamer sailed for Wadi Haifa the following morning. I was, accordingly, in the saddle at daybreak, and rode seven miles round the First Cataract to Shellal before the heat became excessive, boarded the boat, and se- cured a comfortable stateroom. I never had expected to see Philae again ; but, seated on deck awaiting the hour of departure, I once more beheld, across the narrow arm of the river, the beautiful kiosk, and the sombre pylon of the Temple of Isis ! Steaming past the Island of Philse, we soon entered the main stream of the river, about the width of the Con- necticut at Middletown. The cliffs were of granite, but the scenery soon grew less wild, and verdure appeared along the banks. Massive ruins rose from time to time on both sides of the Nile, but I had little desire to see anything more of that character until Abu Simble. A fine temple rose back of the town of Debot, on the DERR IS THE SITE OF A ROCK-HEWN TEMPLE; A BUSY MARKET FOR MANY VARIETIES OF NUBIAN MANUFACTURED ARTICLES 178 The Destiny of Doris west bank; and at Kertassi, 15 miles farther, was a dainty little edifice that recalled the pretty kiosk at Phils. The sandstone cliffs of that region were the quarries for half the temples between that point and Luxor. Walls of rock encroach upon the river, creating the imposing and gloomy gorge called Bab el-Kalabsheh. Navigation at this point is difficult, owing to the tortu- ous course of the stream, but when we emerged from the canon, as from a tunnel, a massive temple appeared on our right. We had crossed the Tropic of Cancer dur- ing the passage of the watery defile, as I discovered by consulting a map. The Temple of Kalabsheh would have been well worth a visit to any Egyptian traveler who had not supped and dined on ruins for days. As the afternoon wore away, we steamed slowly past Dendur, and near six o'clock we stopped at Dakkeh to make repairs to the boat's machinery. A few travelers, like myself, took advantage of the halt to visit the well- preserved temple, — comparatively modern, and the hiero- glyphics in excellent condition. Above this point the river widens into a kind of Tap- pan Zee, and is shallow and difficult of navigation by night; but before darkness fell we had passed round a broad bend to the westward and tied up at Sebua, the site of a Temple of Ammon, built by our friend Rameses II., where the king was worshiped as a god. The approach to the temple — as we found it early next morning — was through an avenue of Sphinxes, representing the king as a lion with a human head. The great hall, hewn out of rock, was too full of sand for comfortable exploration. An indescribable dread of open wells or trap-doors in Under the Southern Cross 179 the floor attended my brief tramp through the quiver- ing, always yielding, sand. We did not stop at Korusko, — quite a busy place ap- The Morning Sun Penetrates to the Inner Chamber ok the Temple at Abu Simble parcntlv,- — or at the Rock Temple of Dcrr, but pushed on to Abu Simble. Near Dcrr, I saw my first Nile crocodile! As it lay motionless in the water, the saurian resembled a cypress i So The Destiny of Doris Facade of the Rock-hewn Temfle at Abu Simble, Showing the Four Colossi log. The color effect was greenish-chestnut. A preju- dice exists among the natives against shooting them, — probably an evolution of ancient saurian-worship along the Nile. On the right bank was Toski, where Wad el Nejumi — the most heroic figure among all the Arab chieftains of the Soudan war, and the destroyer of Hicks Pasha's army — was defeated by Colonel Wodehouse, on August Under the Southern Cross 1S1 3rd, 1888. He was bent on an invasion of Egypt, bin wa"s killed and his army destroyed. Part of the afternoon was spent at Abu Simble. No- thing seen in Africa produces the same impression of ancient Egyptian energy as that rock-hewn Temple of Rameses II. It is entirely excavated, and extends into the solid cliff-side 200 feet. Not a trace of cement or mortar is visible. Ascending the magnificent, though isr-*- 1 ^' - - ■ £*•"* ^0k Second Cataract, at Wadi Halfa, Where the Nile Tumbles Over Masses of Volcanic Rock sand-covered, flight of steps, the imposing facade rose before me in the style of a pylon, coo feel high. In thai loft) fore court sil four colossi of Rameses [I., each figure 1 82 The Destiny of Doris 65 feet high, — taller than the colossi of Memnon at Thebes, which had seemed so stupendous on the plain of Thebes ! The head and shoulders of the statue at the left of the entrance has fallen to the floor, but the other three are intact. Having prepared ourselves with magnesium tape, we entered the Great Vestibule, walked slowly through the Small Hypostyle Hall and into the Sanctuary, exactly 180 feet from the first doorway. Every square yard of the walls is covered with inscriptions and pictures. Weeks would be necessary for a minute examination. Behind the sacrificial altar, in the Sanctuary, are seated Ptah, Ammon-Re, the deified Rameses, and the hawk- headed Re-Harmkhis, — the four deities worshiped there. The temple was built facing the east, so that at sunrise the rays of the glorious orb of day penetrate the in- nermost sanctuary and render luminous the whole in- terior. Like the Arabs of Granada, 3,000 years later, the Egyptians at Abu Simble had invoked the God of Dawn ! We had no time or inclination to visit the smaller temples : we were intent on reaching Haifa that night. Every mile of the river's bank has its ruined fort- ress, temple, or city. We finally tied up at the village of Ankish. A few lights at Wadi Haifa could be seen a mile to the southward. Sending our baggage to the hotel, most of the passengers rode thither on donkeys, attended in usual fashion by wheezing drivers. The ride soon developed into a race for the best rooms at the hotel. That night I saw the splendid constellation of the A WADI-HALFA WATER-CARRIER ON THE UPPER NILE; THE PIGSKIN SUPPLANTS THE CLASS JAR SEEN IN CAIRO 1S4 The Destiny of Doris Southern Cross; the grand group of suns looked just as I had seen it in the West Indies. Wadi Haifa consists of several communities. It is on the edge of the Bisharin's own country, and a few war- riors, who have not been killed by British rifles, are seen wandering about the dusty streets, unhappy and restless. Here the very black Ethiopians are encountered, also many Abysinnians. The Arab has disappeared outside the bazaars. There the crafty merchant is found with the same restless eyes and the silken moustache that we have seen in Cairo. To the Arab-trader a moustache seems as necessary as to a ventriloquist ! The train on the Military Railway did not leave for Khartum till 8 o'clock in the evening; so the day was utilized by crossing to the west bank and climbing the rocky heights of Abusir. From it every yard of the five miles of the Second Cataract can be seen. The river engages in a constant struggle with sharp, stony snags, that tear the water into ribbons, or huge boulders against which it beats itself into foam. My donkey-boy sudden- ly offered me a knife, to cut my name into the soft stone, and when I shook my head, he led me to a peak I had not noticed, and showed me, deeply graven in the rock, the word "GORDON." Wadi Halfans declare that the general sat for several hours at that lofty view-point the day before he set out for Khartum, gazing toward the Soudan. Then he graved his name, they say, and left the spot forever. The name is there, beyond a doubt. The night-ride in a sleeping-car across the desert, in which two Anglo-Egyptian armies were decimated by Under the Southern Cross 185 thirst, sun-stroke, and fatigue, would have been one of real comfort had the sand been less persistent in en- tering the cars. The temperature fell toward midnight to such a degree that a thin blanket was welcome. Be- fore Lord Kitchener built the line that now renders it so easy of accomplishment, this journey required seven Village of Omdurman, Opposite Khartum, Where the Mahdi Had His Headquarters During the Siege of General Cordon's Forces days on camel-back. We were at Abu I lamed by break- fast-time, and, a restaurant-car having been attached, we enjoyed our morning repast rolling along the rapidly-nar- rowing and island-bespangled Nile. The neighborhood of the Fifth Cataract was passed two hours before we came to Berber, where General 1 86 The Destiny of Doris Gordon's line of communication was finally cut and his doom rendered certain. The last Dervish Occupation was the ruin of this once-prosperous center of caravan trade. It is in the same condition — on a small scale — as Alexandria, — the once-mighty trade-mart of the world. Toward nightfall we crossed the famous Atbara Bridge, erected by American contractors in a space of time so brief as to astonish the scientific men of all na- tions. The width of the river-bed — then nearly dry — indicated that when in flood the Atbara is the size of the Ohio at Wheeling. Now I understood how the steel superstructure was brought so expeditiously from the seacoast ! The con- tractors shipped the materials from Alexandria to Shellal, loaded them there into light-draft steamers, and trans- ferred them to cars at Wadi Haifa for their destina- tion. After a cool night's journey, — without discomfort from sand, — through Sagadi, Shendi, and — after day- light — Halfiyeh, the train drew up at its last station, near the mouth of the Blue Nile. I was especially disappointed at the shallowness of this Abysinnian affluent of the great river. Back-water from the White Nile gave it an imposing appearance at the junction of the two streams ; but on the following day I found that the Blue Nile was fordable a few miles south of the city. The White Nile is the perennial stream ; but the Blue Nile, which almost runs dry in May, is the irrigator of Egypt, and supplies the torrent that overflows the Nile Valley for 1,800 miles. From the end of the railway, passengers were conveyed by small boats TWO ARAB FRUIT WOMEN: THE SUGAR-CANE VENDOR IS MARRIED, AS HER FACE COVERING INDICATES ; THE ORANGE-GIRL DOESN T COVET MATRIMONY 188 The Destiny of Doris to Khartum, which stands about 400 meters south of the junction of the Blue and White Niles. On the western bank of the river was the Kordofan town of Omdurman, where the Mahdi established his capital before Gordon was killed and Khartum taken. It was Saturday morning, and four days had elapsed since I had left Assouan. As the crow flies, I was with- in 350 miles of Fashoda! Three interesting days were passed at the Anglo- Egyptian seat of government in the Soudan. The names of Sir Samuel Baker and General Gordon render the quaint town exceedingly interesting to a traveler of the Caucasian race. The population of Khartum would be hard to fix, as no two authorities agree. I should say, it did not exceed 1,500 inhabitants, exclusive of the English and Egyptian troops in barracks and hospital. The Government buildings are of white stone and stucco. Direct telegraphic communication exists with Cairo, and mail arrives once or twice a week. The bazaars are the most interesting seen in Africa. They are filled with wares brought from Darfur, by caravan or floated down the White Nile from the re- gions of the Great Lakes, Albert and Victoria. Shrouded in mystery as is the final catastrophe of the Gordon regime, the accredited scene of his death at the head of the stairway in the palace is just such a place at a bizarre character like Gordon would choose in which to meet his end. During the trip, by boat and rail from Shellal, I had carefully read his six Diaries, sent from Khartum between September 30th and Decem- ber 15th, 1884, and I had formed an idea of General Under the Southern Cross 189 Gordon's character, which had not changed by anything subsequently seen or heard. He would appear to have been a religious crank!' His disposition had evidently soured toward his native country. His Diaries are flip- pant, when they ought to have been serious. Gordon brought his troubles upon himself : he was sent away A Soudanese Warrior at Khartum, Captured in the Fashoda Campaign, Posing on a Camel ; the Only Thing that Ren- ders Him Dangerous is His Fearlessness of Death from London on a definite mission, with instructions to reach Khartum by way of Suakin, the Egyptian port on the Red Sea. Obviously, this was to prevent him from entering into any entangling alliance with the Khedive. Instead of proceeding t<> Port Said and di rectly down the Red Sea, Gordon went to Cairo and SQUARE OF MAHOMET ALI, IN THE CENTRE OF NEW ALEXANDRIA. A STATUE OF THE CREAT KHEDIVE GIVES NAME TO THE PLACE The Destiny of Doris 191 secured an appointment as Governor-General of the Soudan ! His only excuse for this remarkably presump- tuous act was that he could not expect obedience from the Egyptian officers and men, and could not exercise proper authority unless he held office under the Khedive ! I never have been able to find that the Gladstone Gov- ernment intended that he should "wield any authority over the troops of the Khedive." In this particular, Gordon was a meddler; when he got himself into an awkward position, by assuming unexpected responsibili- ties, he became a winner. His bravery, his conscientious sense of duty to the gar- risons he had taken over, and his fidelity unto death to the Arabs who stood by him is beyond question. His size was that of a regimental, or brigade, commander. He was not equal to the government of a province. 1 lis Chinese-record as a commander, who struck promptly and with awe-inspiring severity, was nullified by his year's shilly-shallying at Khartum. As I stood on the top of the Serail, — where he had stood so often during those long and agonizing months of suspense, — and gazed over the surrounding country for miles, 1 could only marvel that Gordon had held out against the Mahdi as long as he had. The possibilities of defending the promontory from artillery-fire are meagre. I understood perfectly what Lord Milner meant by describing the im- practicable Arab chieftain, Wad el Xejumi, who tried to lead an army across the Nubian Desert into Egypt, as "the Gordon of Mahdiism." The train to connect with the boat at Wadi Haifa lefl on Tuesdav night, and the fifth morning I was in Cairo. GARDEN OF GETHSEMANE, MOUNT OF OLIVES, SCENE OF THE SAVIOUR'S AGONY ; AS IT IS TO-DAY *,-. &£# mm- THE JORDAN, WHERE CHRIST WAS BAPTIZED AND THE ISRAELITES CROSSED Chapter Fourteen Under the Holy Cross WHEN I returned to Cairo, my friends had completed their leisurely trip down the Nile from Luxor on one of the Cook-boats, stopping at the Temple of Denderah ; at Abydos, with its curious temples of Sethi and Rame- ses II.; at Assiout, where a slave-market secretly ex- isted long after the trade had been abolished in other parts of Egypt, and, finally, at Heni-Hassan and its interesting tombs. Four days, thus, had been pleasantly occupied, while I had been sweltering on the road to Khartum. They had made a hurried visit to Alexandria, "tin- City of a Thousand Lights," — for many centuries the greatest seaport in the world. She became the seat of poetry, science, and art ; was the abode of Apelles, Euclid; Strabo, Aristophanes, Apollodorus, and Theocritus. The lighted windows of her myriad houses shone far across the sea. The discovery of the route to India by the Cape of Gk)0(j 193 194 The Destiny of Doris Hope, dealt the first of a series of blows to Alexandria that, in the aggregate, have mined her trade and de- stroyed her architectural beauties. The opening of the Suez Canal ended forever her importance on the Med- iterranean, and English shells laid low her battlemented walls. Mrs. Wentworth and her companions found a blighted modern city, bearing the scar of civilizing vandalism. They searched in vain for traces of Csesar and Mark An- tony, but saw only some baths that bore the name of Cleopatra. I am permitted to make the following ex- tract from Miss Wentworth's diary : "The four hours' ride from Cairo was through the garden of Egypt, — the Delta. Amid an exuberance of verdure, we forgot the parched wastes of Arabia and Lybia. The approach to the town, cooled by the glisten- ing waters of Mareotis and the Mediterranean, was thrilling to travelers returned from the desert. The lux- uriance of the surrounding country contrasted sadly with the general decadence still in progress in Alexandria. I felt as if contemplating a human creature stricken with death. 1 knew that we were yet in Egypt ! "We drove to Pompey's Pillar, but it was a dismal trip, recalling the ride from Cairo to Heliopolis and its single obelisk. We found it behind an Arab cemetery. The column of red Assouan granite, sixty-five feet high, and nine feet in diameter, is nobility in stone. An artifi- cial eminence renders the monolith visible from every part of the harbor. "Our intention had been to remain over night at Alex- andria; but we learned that a train with a dining-car A MUSSULMAN OF ALEXANDRIA PREPARING TO SET OUT ON THE MECCA PILGRIMAGE ; HE WILL TRAVEL AND SLEEP IN THE PALANQUIN 196 The Destiny of Doris left at six o'clock for the capital, so we took it. We dined well, and the time passed so pleasantly that the House of a True Believer, Who Had Made the Pilgrimage to Mecca, and Wanted Everybody to Know lights of Cairo showed through the car-window before we realized that the journey was ended." But an event of the highest importance — not set down by Miss Wentworth — had happened at the old seaport. One of the first things I observed on meeting Doris was a fine diamond ring on her left hand ; — its possession in- volved a pretty story : "The young people rambled about the shops in Alex- andria, and returned to our hotel in high spirits," Mrs. Wentworth explained to me. " 'Quite like London,' chattered Doris. 'Street scenes same as Cairo,' Vernon Under the Holy Cross 197 chimed in. 'Water peddled about in cans. Doris dis- covered a house covered with crude pictures. It be- longed to a good Mohammedan who had made the pil- grimage to Mecca. She made a picture of the wall. It was the most interesting thing we saw.' 'What a terri- ble fib !' whispered Doris to me. holding up her hand that I might see a diamond upon it ; then she added, aloud, 'This ring is far more interesting to me, mamma.' I took the dear srirl in my arms and kissed her. I could Last Sight of the Pyramids of Cizeh, from the Train have wept for joy. Feeling that he must say something, Vernon stammered 'Oh, yes! We also saw a ring in a window, and I put it on Doris' finger. 5 I was quite pre pared for the appearance of an engagemenl ring, because 198 The Destiny of Doris Vernon haunted my steps every hour on the Nile boat until he caught me alone one afternoon, when Doris was napping in her cabin, and he went at the subject of his marriage to my daughter in such a resolute way as to leave no doubt of his determination to have a hearing. His manner was wholly changed. He had attempted, timidly, to bring up the subject on board the Hohen- zollern, between Gibraltar and Naples, and I had put him off; but on the Nile he had the courage of his convic- tions. He won my heart completely. I didn't want to refuse him. He is a gallant fellow, and I believe he will make Doris happy." Hardly had Mrs. Wentworth finished before Blake came to where we were sitting on the broad hotel-porch, overlooking the Ezbekiyeh. "You ought to be a very happy man," I hastened to say, extending my hand. "I sincerely congratulate you." My face surely reflected the gladness I felt ; for this engagement meant much to me. "I thank you, Mr. North," he replied, — adding in a low voice : "You have been a good friend and a wise advisor." "She is worthy of the best man living," said I. "She's the sweetest girl on earth !" Blake would have hugged me could he have loosened my hand-grasp. We said farewell to Cairo with regret. Our month in Egypt had been thirty days of enjoyment without a single disturbing incident. We recalled our wonderful experiences as the rapid morning-express carried us A HOTEL ON THE SUEZ CANAL, AMID ITS LUX- URIANT WEALTH OF TROPICAL VEGETATION AND DAZZLING SUNLIGHT 206 The Destiny of Doris through the Delta to the Desert on the way to Port Said. We were detained a couple of hours by the change of cars at Ismailiya, but occupied the time delightfully by driving to a hotel on the lake and having a bath. The water was delightful, and we entered the cars greatly re- freshed for the trip along the bank of the Suez Canal. Boarding the steamer from the Port Said station, we dined and sailed for Jaffa at dusk. The Mediterranean was as mild as a mill-pond, and we awoke to find the ship at anchor off the Syrian port, the mountains of Judea in the background. Quite a level stretch of country intervened between the shore and the hills, the southern part of which was the historic Plain of Phil- istia. To the north stretched the Plain of Sharon. As at Tangier, we landed in small boats, at a flight of steps on the sea-wall. Simon's tan-yard was along- side the steps ; and the water from its vats discolored the Mediterranean. "Peter had a dream there, and saw things, you remem- ber," began Blake. The train didn't start until the middle of the after- noon, so we took luncheon at a hotel. "Change cars for Jerusalem!" is no longer an idle joke. The ascent of 3,000 feet, and ride of 90 miles, from the coast to the Holy City is accomplished in four hours and a half. The cars are comfortable, but most of the region traversed is very gloomy. The line leads first to Ramleh, through meadows aglow with the red anemone, known in all parts of the world Under the Holy Cross 201 as The Rose of Sharon. At the top of a steep grade is a fine panorama of the field of Ajalon, where "the sun stood still until the people had avenged themselves upon their enemies." Ascent then begins in earnest, and ends ^aHfc****^ Port of Jaffa, One of the Most Dangerous on the Med House of Simon the Tanner at the Right at the station outside- the Jaffa Gate. So general is the wish of believers in the Christian faith to enter the city on foot, as did the Saviour, that most of the carriages await the approaching throng of travelers inside the 202 The Destiny of Doris walls. We were driven to the hotel through narrow, filthy streets, flagrantly malodorous. The best authorities declare that the aspect of the Holy City within the walls is unchanged, and that whatever is new in Jerusalem has grown outside. Blake and I made a half-hearted attempt at a walk that night, but the streets were unsuited for any such adven- ture, and we returned without being able to find even a place of refreshment. Our first pilgrimage was to the Mosque of Omar, on the site of Solomon's Temple. The high wall surrounding this Arab church separates it from the rest of the city. The enclosure equals a square quarter-mile — the area of the old temple. Into this dearest place on earth to the Jew, he may not enter; but he has bought the right to lean against the outside of the wall, and bewail the de- struction of his city and temple. As it was Friday, almost every foot of the narrow cul de sac was occu- pied by native Hebrews, busy with their lamentations. The sight was painful, because the mental agony of the despairing men was genuine. For eighteen hundred years it has continued. We walked and rode to the Mount of Olives, to see the sun set. "Where are the trees that give this hill its name?" asked Doris. No one could answer. "The ground is miserably poor and stony; but the olive will grow in any soil," said the dragoman. "The surface is cut by so many mud walls that the localities SITE OF THE TEMPLE OF SOLOMON: WALLS SHOWING ITS AREA AND THE MOSQUE OF OMAR ; TO IT CHRIS- TIANS ARE NOW ADMITTED ; JEWS NEVER 264 The Destiny of Doris identified with the life of Christ can no longer be identi- fied." The Mount is beyond the Kedron, and the climb was about as steep as the side of the Great Pyramid. We halted a short time at the Garden of Gethsemane, enclosed bv a stone-wall and guarded by the Latin and Greek- churches. Reaching the summit of the Mount, we looked southward to the point that was "over against the temple." It was a pitiful scene of desolation. The Mosque of Omar was in full view, from base to dome. We probably stood where the Saviour wept over the city and predicted its destruction. Climbing to the top of a minaret nearby, we were able to look over a ridge into the Valley of Jehoshaphat. To our amazement, the Jordan was in plain sight, and the broad blue expanse of the Dead Sea twen- ty miles away, with the mountains of Moab behind it ! The mosque wherein we stood is believed to cover the place of the Ascension, and is held in equal rever- ence by Mohammedan and Christian. The Arab believes in three dispensations : — The first by Moses, the second by Christ, and the third by Mahomet. Christians gener- ally do not understand that the followers of Islam ac- cept Christ as the second of God's representatives on earth. The Mohammedan believes in one God, repu- diating the Trinity. He promulgates a code of morals virtually the same as that given to Moses on Sinai. His psalms closely resemble those of David ; he admits the miraculous birth and unique character of Jesus Christ, and, instead of repentance and salvation by grace, he con- tents himself with sublime confidence in God's mercy. Under the Holy Cross 205 His conscience is put at ease after any namable sin by prompt confession ; his belief in God's merciful forgive- ness is boundless. The orb of day finally sank behind the hills of Judea with a resplendent glory, little in keeping with the deso- lation on every hand. In the twilight we strolled back Well Inside the Area of the Old Temple. Arabs Drawing Water for Their Ablutions Before Entering Mosque of Omar to the city-gate, much impressed by the solemnity of the hour and place. The following morning we went to Bethlehem, — not a severe tax upon our strength, because we hired a carriage. 206 The Destiny of Doris After leaving the rocky eminence of the Holy City, we passed farms, olive groves, and grain fields under culti- vation. The village actually looked prosperous, and the houses better than any we saw in Palestine. It is a Christian community, very few Mohammedans or Jews dwelling there. We went direct to the old basilica, built on the site of the traditional cave in which Christ was born. "St. Jerome's belief that the place of the Nativity was a grotto in the side of a cliff, was accepted by the build- ers of this memorial," I explained. "Wallace, in 'Ben Hur,' takes the same tradition," add- ed Doris. "The caves along the side of this hill recall those we saw in Italy, between Naples and Rome, and up the Nile." We entered the basilica, and stood before the niche in which Christ was born. A silver star, above which sixteen lamps are always aglow, marks the exact spot! I o- aZ ed at this bit of white metal with interest other than religious. "This is the silver star," I said, thoughtfully, "that Kinglake, in the remarkable preface to his History of the Crimean War, declares to be the key to the entire Eastern Question — a dispute that has bankrupted half the nations of Europe ; that compels the maintenance of millions of armed soldiery; that sustains the Empire of 'The Unspeakable Turk' as neutral ground, and defeats Russia's hope of occupying Constantinople; that contin- ues the retrogression of Syria and Asia Minor, and com- pels England's occupation of Egypt as a defensive meas- WAILING PLACE, WHERE THE JEWS CO EVERY FRIDAY TO LAMENT THEIR MISFORTUNES: THE IMMENSE BLOCKS WERE PART OF THE ORIGINAL TEMPLE 208 The Destiny of Doris ure ! Surely nothing else in all Palestine possesses equal potentiality affecting the destiny of the human race." St. Jerome's tomb occupies a recess in this church ; here he passed several years. The present Church of the Nativity dates from the fourth century, and is simple, though massive, in design. Shabby now, its ex- terior was originally decorated with mosaics and inlaid work. "The business of Bethlehem consists chiefly in making and selling relics to believers," commented Mrs. Went- worth, after inspecting shops and factories, wherein the workmen were using the most primitive tools and were accomplishing but very meagre results. We then drove to the oldest town in Palestine, — He- bron, — where is the oak under which Sheik Abraham pitched his tent 4,000 years before. His tomb and that of Isaac is as real as anything in Egypt — the tomb bazaar of the world ; but a mosque stands over the Cave of Macpe- lah; and it cost us an Egyptian pound and bakshish for slippers to enter. And we were not permitted to see any- thing but the door of the tomb. A halt was made at the Pool of Hebron, on one side of which was a structure re- sembling an old mill, the water very clear, and the number of unwashed Turks lounging about its curb large. A modern building with a plastered dome covers the grave of Rachel, which, like Abraham's resting-place, is revered equally by Moslem and Christian. The pretty, green farms surrounding Bethlehem, were the most luxuriant bits of vegetation we had met RACHEL'S TOMB, EQUALLY REVERED BY CHRISTIAN AND MOSLEM ; DISTANT VIEW OF BETHLEHEM ON THE HILLSIDE AT THE RIGHT 210 The Destiny of Doris since leaving the Delta of the Nile. A last view of the village was had from the crest of a hill. A trip to the Dead Sea, though but a matter of twenty miles, is magnified into an arduous undertaking by drag- omen and tourist-managers. They always travel with tents and camp-equipage, and make a two or three days' pilgrimage. Securing good saddle-horses, in preference to carriages, we made the journey without serious dis- comfort between dawn and darkness. Leaving the Jaffa Gate as the sun rose behind us, we made a half-circuit of Jerusalem, descending, as we did so, into the Valley of Jehoshaphat, crossing the Kedron, and skirting the southern base of the Mount of Olives, through Bethany toward Jericho, like "a certain man who went down" before us. "This is the rockiest road in all creation," said Blake, as we picked our way tediously among large boulders that encumbered the path. "A week's work, properly di- rected, would clear away these rocks. I'd like to be road- commissioner for a month." "It's dangerous to be a reformer in the Sultan's do- minions," said I, as I turned aside for a boulder the size of a large dry-goods box. "A 50 horse-power motor would be necessary to drive a tram-car up this grade ; but an electric trolley is the remedy needed here," was Blake's reply. We rode down the steep hill, which Christ ascended on his last journey to Jerusalem from Jericho, — where he had healed the two blind men. The "Inn of the Good Samaritan" is a wretched little khan where we couldn't THE STREET OF SORROWS, ALONC WHICH CHRIST BORE THE CROSS : NEAR THE FIFTH STATION AND AT THE ARCH WHERE THE WORDS WERE UTTERED: •'BEHOLD THE MAN I ' 212 The Destiny of Doris find anything to drink, so we pushed on to the Fountain of Elisha, eight miles from our destination. The Dead Sea lies 1,300 feet below sea-level, or 4,300 feet below Jerusalem, and the descent is principally in the last sixteen miles. We made a detour to get a glimpse of the River Jordan. "1 am disappointed at its size," said Blake, when we sat our horses on the brow of a hill overlooking the sacred stream. "It isn't much over a hundred feet wide, though it is running like a mill-race." The "stormy banks" of Jordan were rugged, rocky hills, with abundant verdure at the water's edge. We found a party of tourists filling bottles from the sacred stream. An hour's ride brought us to the beach of the Dead Sea. Blake and I hurried to the shore. Both of us having brought a bathing suit, we found shelter, and were soon arrayed as if at Cape May or Newport. "Jupiter ! How cold the water is !" exclaimed Blake. "Yes," I answered, shivering ; "but we can't drown, if we do get the cramp. There is something in that." "Ugh ! Don't swallow this water," gasped my compan- ion, sputtering. "You'll never recover from the thirst." It was not a pleasant bath. A peculiar stinging sensa- tion was felt over our entire bodies. Water dripping from our hair left white streaks down our cheeks. Our bathing-suits dried as rough as sackcloth. On the return-journey, we were besieged by several lepers, just outside the city-gate. They had left their miserable huts to importune us for alms. The ladies were horrified at the awful appearance of these unfortu- JERUSALEM FROM THE NORTH, SHOWING THE CHARACTER OF THE HOUSES, AND THE SPIRES OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCHES 214 The Destiny of Doris nate creatures, and we hastened to bestow all the small money we had with us. They were still persistent, and our dragoman then drove them away with stones : the natives waste little sympathy on these stricken outcasts. We reached our hotel at dark, tired and dusty after our long ride, but well-pleased. Dinner tasted good that night. "After dinner I always feel better," murmured Blake. "It sounds carnal to a degree, and gluttonous to an abase- ment ; but it's the truth." Having still two days before our return to Jaffa, we went to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, identified with those misguided destroyers of human life known as the Crusaders. Taking the New Testament for a guide (open at the nth chapter of St. John), we strolled about Bethany, called at the humble dwelling of Mar- tha and Mary, and walked thence to the tomb of Lazarus. The inclination to write of the view of Jerusalem from the Mount of Olives, as seen on the return-ride from Bethany, is well-nigh irresistible. The Holy City lay at our feet ; we could gaze into the courts of the Mosque of Omar, and count the people walking there ! How glad we were to leave Jerusalem and its dirty streets! An Austrian boat carried us from Jaffa down the coast to Port Said, where we caught a North German Lloyd steamer from China and Japan. After four de- lightful days on the Mediterranean, repassing the Strait of Messina and smoking Stromboli, we again reached Naples. Quite unlike iEneas, "we came to Italy and the Lavin- ian shores." THE BEAUTIFUL BAY OF NAPLES, WITH VESUVIUS IN THE DISTANCE Chapter Fifteen La Bella Napoli uu w ATCH your lug-gage at Naples !" ought to be inscribed over the landing-stage. The fiercest, greediest gang of fac chi- nos found anywhere on the Mediter- ranean coast stands ready to seize your traps. If you are not watchful, a porter will have to be paid for handling each package, however small. Mrs. Went worth's hat-box weighed two pounds, but a man insisted on payment for carrying it ashore. The dugano gave no trouble, and to avoid worry from the cab-drivers, we took a stage to our hotel. The sun was warm as May, though the month was March. Neapolitans live in the streets, and the Toledo was overflowing with a freshet of human life. This fine thoroughfare ends at the Piazza, around which is grouped the Royal Palace, the San Carlo theatre, and the Galleria Umberto. There is also the prettiesl church in Naples, San Francesco di Paola, — another imitation of the 215 216 The Destiny of Doris "heathen" Pantheon, decorated with the peristyle-ap- proach to St. Peter's. The Toledo is the gayest street in Europe, outside of Paris and its Boulevards. "Apartments are to let in nearly every house," said Blake. "When I tell you that the port of Genoa does seven times the business of Naples, though the city has hardly more than a third of its population, you can understand how great must be the suffering here, due to the scarcity of work," I replied. The best restaurants of the new city are German, in which Wiener schnitzel and Frankfurter sausage are better served than raviuoli or spaghetti ; to find Italian cooking, one must seek the old town, lying between the Toledo and the bay. "Shopping in Naples is a delight," said Mrs. Went- worth at dinner that evening. "I am working off the meanness in my nature. I must have had a bartering ancestor." "I feared my grandmother had been a bum-boat wom- an when I heard you offer forty lira for a hat quoted at ninety," said Doris, petulantly. "Egypt prepared me for an encounter with these pi- rates." "I should think so; you hardened my heart," rejoined Doris. "But did you get the hat?" "It wasn't much of an affair, — only fit to travel in," answered her mother; "but it is in my room. When I left that shop, I wrote my hotel address on a card and named forty-five lira as my final offer. The hat reached here before I did." TOLEDO STREET, THE GREAT TRADE ARTERY OF NAPLES, WHERE EVERYBODY WALKS IN THE COOL OF THE EVENING 218 The Destiny of Doris ''I wish you'd teach me how to buy sweet chocolate at the same rate," said Doris. "For the first time in my life, I feel that it is an expensive luxury." "So it is, in Italy, where the necessities of life, not the luxuries, are taxed. Imagine a duty on salt!" "The Neapolitans are born smugglers, and they can't be blamed," was my contention. "Masaniello's wife was caught bringing flour into Naples in her stockings, and the city dugano has been suspicious of fish- women to this day. Neapolitans of Masaniello's time felt the tyranny of Spain, just as did the Cubans. Our hearts went out to the latter, and we must justify the revolt led by the young fisherman against the persecutions of his fellow-countrymen." "He was king for eight days, — then the headsman," said Mr. Blake. "Yes ; but, like John of Leyden, he was immortalized in an opera," retorted Doris. "Speaking of opera, 'Masaniello' will be sung to- night at the San Carlo," I resumed. "The advertise- ments say that 'real fishermen and women from Portici will be added to the chorus for pictorial effect.' ,: "How delightful !" exclaimed the matron of our party. "I once heard 'Carmen' at Madrid with the veritable cspada of Grenada and his attendant chulos, banderil- leros.and picadores in the parade that opens the last act. We must go to-night." "You will use my cabs," said Blake. "I have hired two while we stay in town, at twelve lira a day ! The men are in livery, and the horses are 'good-lookers.' Did you ever hear of anything so cheap?" TYPICAL TENEMENTS, FACING THE MARINA OR LANDING STAGE, IN NAPLES (CALLED THE ARCHES OF ACTEOJ 220 The Destiny of Doris "How did you put in the afternoon?" asked Doris, addressing Blake. "While you ladies were shopping, I drove out the Po- silipo road, visiting Virgil's tomb en route," he replied. "Can you imagine the grave of the author of the ^Eneid in the fruit-garden of a Frenchman ? It was a lucky hour for the present owner of the ground when Virgil directed that, after death, his ashes be taken from Brun- dusium to Naples. The poet assured him an income of twenty to thirty liras per day. The garden has grown rank, but the tomb is a paying property." "That recalls the ostrich farm at Heliopolis," inter- jected Mrs. Wentworth. "The managers of that indus- try probably make more money by charging admission than by selling feathers." "I entered the small vaulted chamber," continued Blake, "and while trying to feel proper reverence for my surroundings, a keeper in a blue blouse attempted to sell me some Roman coins 'found on the spot.' Had I known the oath with which Boccaccio foreswore trade for poetry, at that identical place, I'd have used it vigor- ously. The laurel planted by Petrarch died long ago, and the urn containing Virgil's ashes has been mislaid ; but the tomb is a shrine. I emerged, covered with dust, but saturated with reverence." "Howells likens Virgil's tomb to 'a spring-house on an Ohio farm,' I remember," was my comment. "Virgil was a farmer-boy. His best verse deals with country life." "If we are going to the opera," said Blake, giving the conversation a new turn, "I'll drive round for a box." A QUAINT OLD STREET IN NAPLES. THE VIA DI CHIAIA, INTO WHICH THE SUNLIGHT PENE- TRATES ONLY AT HIGH NOON 222 The Destiny of Doris "No, no," protested Mrs. Wentworth. "Get stalls. You remember how excellent the eight-lira seats are. Doris and I haven't time or inclination to dress for a box." The Portici fisher-people were on the stage, — as prom- ised, — but the subdued colors of their costumes gave a somber, rather than gay, tone to scenes that are usually so bright with reds and yellows. The Neapolitan costume of the stage and of modern pictorial art is not the real thing. Another disillusionment ! but one that was satis- factory rather than otherwise. The hour was late when we drove home, for the tro- vatori were moving along the streets, like fire-flies, hunt- ing with swinging lanterns for cigar-ends and lost ar- ticles. The Neapolitans are the most interesting study in Naples. Donning a golf suit, Doris roamed, camera in hand, through the old part of the town during the days that followed. She found a characteristic street, the Via di Chiaia, back of the Piazza die Martiri, and made a picture of the busy terrace-way when the sun was at the zenith. One afternoon we drove to the Peoples' Garden, where an audience of rag-pickers and trovatori, resting before their night's toil, listened enraptured to public readers declaiming Tasso and Dante. This enjoyment and edu- cation cost them a soldo each, which they paid willingly. A funeral procession was encountered on the way back; but the corpse had been buried the preceding day in the public pit. What we saw was a revel, headed by friends ^ri '^nH ■SLvB^Sv '~'~ * ♦ ^Bv» 3?T tf' - . w* 1 1 m *3 g|y^ _»< " «2; Will I 1 § n "m* i ^■[v'.M Kb'jr fi«* "-v^ Klii W.U f ■ ' ' ^ SORRENTO STANDS ON A HIGH BLUFF. WITH MOUNTAINS FOR A BACKGROUND. AND IS A BOWER OF ILEX AND LEMON TREES 224 The Destiny of Doris of the dead in fantastic masks. The bier, with its bright- ly embroidered pall, was rented for the carouse. Packing our hand-bags, we took train for Castellam- mare, whence we drove along a high road of unusual excellence and beauty ten miles to Sorrento. We en- tered the home of Tasso through avenues of ilex, after having crossed a deep ravine. Its hotels are as good as those of Naples. Its houses are gay with flowering vines and painted frescoes. Mr. Blake and the ladies took donkeys late in the afternoon, and traveled two miles by the Massa Road and a steep path on its left to the Vigna Sersale, once the home of Tasso's sister. Here they gained a glorious view of Capri and the trembling sea between, — "tremo- lar della marina' of Dante. The dainty saloon-steamer "Nixie" came over from Naples next morning, as it comes every day, on its way to Capri. We descended from the high bluff to the landing by a "lift," entered a dingy on the beach, and were soon aboard the "Nixie." The run to the Blue Grotto, on the north side of Capri, occupied less than an hour's time. Small boats, carrying two passengers each, conveyed us to a low entrance in the face of the precipitous cliff. "Lie down!" commanded our bare-footed oarsman, from his meager stock of English. We hurriedly knelt in the bottom of the boat, as we were carried on the crest of a wave into the mystic cavern. When we arose inside, our eyes were dazzled by the opalescent-blue glow that enveloped us. We were in a dome-shaped grotto, its walls glittering with alabaster- THE TOWN OF CAPRI CLINGS TO THE CR1 ROCKY SADDLE. UNITING TWO TOWERING HILLS: HERE THE NARROW STREETS ARE SHOWN 226 The Destiny of Doris like incrustations, and its roof studded with stalactites of crystal. "I feel as if I were gorged with indigo," said Blake. "Never mind," laughed Doris. "We'll be patricians of the bluest blood when we escape." Seeing a boy prepared for a plunge into the pellucid depths, I tossed him a lira and he immediately dived into the water. The effect was weirdly beautiful. "His body resembles a sparkling sapphire !" exclaimed Mrs. Wentworth, as we watched the swimmer far under the surface. Landing at the Marina, we drove to a dream-land hotel on the dizzy heights of Capri. The town is a bazaar, clinging to a narrow ridge, or "saddle," that con- nects two mountain-peaks. Art is the patron divinity. Studios crowd each other in every narrow lane, and models loiter in the dainty piazza seeking engagement. The landscapes of Capri exceed the most fanciful dreams : painters need only reproduce the scenes before their eyes. Capri is the most interesting suburb of Xaples, after Pompeii. It lies 17 miles south of that city, and is in the path of steamers entering the bay. Its population is 6.000, about equally divided between the two towns — Capri and Anacapri. The first is 500 feet above the sea, and the second, 1,000 feet. Harassed for centuries by the Saracens, its people retain many of the traits of that race. Under Bourbon rule, during the 18th cen- tury, the British held it from 1806 to 1808. Its English governor was Colonel (afterward Sir Hudson) Lowe, the custodian of Napoleon at St. Helena. The humiliation hNTRANCE TO THE BLUE GROTTO IS THE LOW OPENING AT THE LEFT CORNER: THE CLIFF SIDE OF CAPRI IS HERE PORTRAYED 228 The Destiny of Doris of a prisoner, helpless in his hands, would appear to have been the real measure of Lowe's ability ; for he was a failure at Capri. His Palazzo Inglese is still shown, but the people of Capri have little respect for his name. Memories of Napoleon exist everywhere along this coast, — we shall see Elba and Corsica on our way to Genoa. The Caprians are very hospitable to strangers. Like country folk in the United States, they always speak in passing — men raise their hats, women smile or cour- tesy. Crime is exceptional, and drunkenness unknown. Doors are never locked. Any lost articles are readily recovered through the parish priest. If there ever were any beggars on the island, they have emigrated to Naples. Capri is a delightful place to rest for a winter; the cneapness of house-rent and food is phenomenal. \\ e were shown pretty villas, surrounded by fig and orange trees, to be rented, furnished, for $25 a month ! The island has a different ramble for each day in the year. Less than an hour's walk from the dainty hotel where we dined, are the Natural Arch, the Grotto Mi- cromania, — formerly a Temple of Mithras. — the Grotto of Castiglione, studded with stalactites, the Peak of Bar- barossa, i.fxx) feet above the sea, the Fern Grotto, occu- pied during the Stone Age, or Porcello, famous for its thrilling view of Ischia. While the ladies rested at the hotel. Blake and I climbed to the Villa of Tiberius, interesting as the hid- ing place of the crafty emperor, where he spent weeks at a time devising new cruelties and debaucheries. Here La Bella Napoli 229 the old tyrant dwelt the last ten years of liis miserable life. When the boat left Capri, we intended to return direct to Naples, but we disembarked at Sorrento, and drove across the terraced peninsula to Amain. 'Phis is the quaintest town in Italy, with its cathedral of the eleventh century in the Lombard-Norman style, and its Capuchin monastery, now used as a hotel. Many of the old struc- tures literally hang to the face of the rocky slopes. Ev- erybody we met pointed out the landslide of a few years before. It will become an ever-pertinent topic, like the disaster in the Crawford Notch of the White Moun- tains. From Amalfi. we went by carriage to La Cava, over the most wonderful diligence-road in Europe, hewn in the cliff-side nearly the whole way. and 100 feet above the sea. A train carried us back to Naples in less tban three hours. GENERAL VIEW OF POMPEII, WITH VESUVIUS IN THE DISTANCE: WE ARE LOOKING DOWN THE STREET OF FORTUNE, FROM THE FORUM AMPHITHEATRE WHERE GLAUCUS STOOD WHEN THE ERUPTION OF VESUVIUS BEGAN Chap ley Sixteen Ambition Dead and Buried POMPEII is more interesting than Naples; ev- ery store there has its special lesson. With a realism that approaches cruelty, the daily life and social habits of the Pompeians of the first century are laid bare as with the sur- geon's scalpel. The little city filled no place in hi>- tory. Its insignificance was so marked that the people of the neighboring towns overlooked its destruction, and an indifferent world waited seventeen hundred years be- fore beginning its exhumation. Three-quarters of the town are still underground. The best way to visit Pompeii is to drive along the Marinella to Portici, beyond which stood Herculaneum. It is a paved road the entire distance; decorated with macaroni hung out to dry. Three honrs in the buried city are ample. It stands upon a hill-side, three hundred feet above the sea, and you enter through an avenue made beautiful by plants and shrubbery. -Mi 232 The Destiny of Doris We started early, and at the gate to Pompeii bought our tickets, at two lira each ; quite like taking places for a morning theatrical performance. We ascended a wind- ing slope, which might have led to an orange grove, but actually took us from the twentieth century directly into the first. Narrow alleys, similar to the older streets of Naples, on the stones of which were seen the deep im- prints of chariot wheels, conducted us past the Museum to the Forum, from which our walk over Pompeii began. Like Rome, this suburb of Naples had its open square, where its orators spoke, and its people met to discuss pol- itics and domestic life. How natural ! Hasn't every country-town in America or England its Common and its town pump, where the villagers assemble? The an- cients required a Forum. Around this one, the Oscans built Pompeii, and the fierce Samnites who conquered it didn't interfere with the Temple of Justice or the churches, because they knew no justice but that of the sword, and no protecting divinity save their strong right arms. Pompeii was probably of Greek origin, because it possessed a temple to Hercules, undoubtedly Hellenic, and certainly built 650 B. C, — limiting the history of Pompeii to seven hundred years. During that time, it was besieged, sacked, and finally gathered under the pro- tecting wing of the Romans, who restored it (after the earthquakes of 63 A. D.) in time for its utter destruction, sixteen years later, when the ashes of Vesuvius, moist with scalding rain, sealed and preserved it. Ruin everywhere, but the ground-plans of the houses are always obvious. The dwellings were generally small, mostly of concrete or brick, without exterior STREET OF ABBONDANZA, SHOWING WELL AT LEFT, THAT LED TO ANCIENT AQUEDUCT, IN WHICH WATER IS STILL FLOWING 234 The Destiny of Doris adornment, windowless and devoid of modern comforts. The arrangement of the rooms was much alike : — a recep- tion hall, at the street door ; beyond, a salon that gave upon the mosaic-paved open court with its fountain and flowers ; at one side of this court the dining-hall, the kitchen in a corner, behind a screen, and mere niches for sleeping purposes (rarely protected from intrusion by doors ). Like the thrifty Italian of to-day, the Pompeians often leased the ground floors of his dwelling for shops. The marble counters, across which the wares were sold, stand there to this hour. Street signs were rare, but political notices were common. Blank walls faced the thoroughfares in the poorer quarter, but such windows as opened on the streets were barred with iron, as in the continental cities of our time. The Pompeians have been maligned because several houses of evil repute existed in their town. These are always pointed out as characteristic of the people. The injustice of this need not be dwelt upon. New York is not to be judged by the "Tenderloin," or London by the Haymarket district ! Entering the Street of Fortune, we had a fine view of the volcano that destroyed Pompeii. There, too, stood many pedestals for the reception of statues never erected. On one side, was the Temple of Mercury, with its fine altar; on the other, the curia, or town hall, a Temple of Augustus, and a triumphal arch from which the marble coating has been removed. Crossing the Forum, we ascended a few steps to the Temple of Ju- piter, and after contemplating its splendid propor- Ambition Dead and Buried J3 tions, no other public places of Pompeii particularly im- pressed us. '"I am especially anxious to see the House of Glau- cus with which Bulwer has made us so familiar," said Mills for Grinding Maize, and Bake-oven in Which a Sucking Pig was Roasting at the Time of the Catastrophe Doris; "though 1 am sure nothing else can be so real as these ruts in the streets, left by the heavy wheels of tin- chariots." "More real by far was the cast of that i r woman's body we saw in the Museum," replied Mrs. Wentworth. "I heard her cry of agony; I almost gasped for breath myself as 1 stood beside her." A short walk brought us to the House of the Tragic 236 The Destiny of Doris Poet, better known as the "House of Glaucus," having on the Moor of its vestibule a copy of the famous black- and-white-mosaic watch-dog, and the words "Cave Ca- nem!" The original has been removed to the Naples Museum. This house abounds in mural paintings, hav- ing the Homeric poems for their subjects. Nearby stands the House of Pansa. Visitors to Saratoga are familiar with an exact copy of it. Its floors have been restored to their original condition in the days of the owner, and its gardens filled with flowering plants. In the near neighborhood, is the House of Sallust, still containing frescoes of Greek and Roman divinities. Next door is a bakery, but not the oven, where the loaves of bread were found in the oven. On the same side of the street is "the Custom House," so-called because it contained scales and weights, and "the Surgeon's Office" (wherein were scalpels), probably one of the oldest structures of the city ; for its facade was of massive stones, set without mortar. Returning toward the center of the town, we called at the home of Meleager, exceptional in its decoration be- cause the Pompeian red is nowhere visible, but an inner colonnade is painted in two shades of brown and yellow. Not far away is a wine-shop ready for business, just as if its proprietor were absent at luncheon. The House of the Faun has always been regarded as the show-place of Pompeii, and must have been the home of a wealthy man ; for. when found, it contained exquisite art-treasures. Tt occupied an entire block and had a large garden. The owner's wine-jars had been filled just prior to the overwhelming calamity ; and these en- HOUSE OF VETTI ; THE LATEST EXCAVATED (19011 CONTAINING SOME BEAUTIFUL STATUARY AND MURAL PAINTINGS. THE ROOF IS NEW 238 The Destiny of Doris abled savants to fix the date of the destruction of Pom- peii. "The dead past" is a trite phrase, but at Pompeii it gets a new meaning. There the voice of the Past is heard as nowhere else, — not even at Phike or Karnak. At the Temple of Isis, on the Sacred Isle, I could see the priests moving about, and smell the burning flesh upon the sacrificial altar ; but at Pompeii I could hear voices, just around the corner, driving bargains in ses- terces. I was part of the real work-a-day existence of eighteen hundred years a-gone ! "I am bewitched, — covered with a spell," whispered Doris to me. "The aristocracy of Pompeii let their basements for oil- and wine-shops, just as do the Dukes and Marquises of Rome at present. Fancy the Vanderbilt palace in New York with a bake shop in its basement !" chuckled Mr. Blake, as we walked across a muddy field to see the am- phitheatre where Glaucus was on the morning of the eruption. My thoughts were occupied by a curiosity to know what kind of houses we were treading upon. We listened for an echo of the past, which did not come. The National Museum at Naples is a supplement to Pompeii ; to be studied after the City of Death ; never be- fore. After luncheon, at a hotel outside the gate of Pompeii, we drove toward Naples as far as Resina, which occu- pies the site of Herculaneum. Its excavated ruins con- sist chiefly of a theatre, reached by a descent of 100 dark FORUM OF POMPEII, FROM THE TEMPLE OF JUPITER: HERE THE PEOPLE MET TO TALK POLITICS AND TO GOSSIP 240 The Destiny of Doris steps into a vast, dismal, cellar-like auditorium,— the gloomiest of catacombs. Two three-horse carriages were engaged at Resina for the ascent of Vesuvius to the Hermitage, as the meter- ological observatory is called. Intent upon a serious con- versation with Mrs. Wentworth, I arranged that Mr. Blake and Doris should occupy a conveyance to them- selves. The incidents of that ride cannot be recounted in detail. To hint at their importance to me, I feel would be almost craven. For the first time in more than a month Lou- ise Wentworth and I were alone together. During our stay in Egypt I never had been able to have a private talk with her. She was always courteous, but persistently evasive. Had not Blake's infatuation obscured his vision, he might have given me some of my own advice about creating opportunity. As the team slowly climbed the mountain, I made the most of my advantages. With the ardor of youth I urged my cause, but without success. "Doris occupies the first place in my heart at this mo- ment," Louise finally said. "Until she is married, I can- not even promise to return your affection, Mr. North." "But your daughter is engaged to marry Blake," I answered, almost desperately. "She is; and I thoroughly approve the match. But the unforeseen often happens. When Doris is Mrs. Ver- non Blake, you may renew this conversation, if you like. Let us change the subject?" Though admirably built, the Government road is tor- STREET OF THE SEPUU : POMPEII, ALMOST A REPLICA OF THE APPIAN WAY, OUTSIDE THE WALLS OF I 242 The Destiny of Doris tuous, and an hour was consumed before we reached its end, 1200 feet beyond the Hermitage, where additional tickets had to be bought, to proceed over a private way to the base of the cable line. During that carriage ride, we passed the vineyards of the "Lacrima Christi." The view of the sea from the mountain-side was nearly as fine as at Gibraltar. Entering the cars of the funicolari, we ascended 1,300 feet in half a mile, across iridescent lava-streams. Guides took possession of us at the end of this road, much as do the Bedouins at the Pyramid of Cheops. The final climb, through the cinders and slag, was ac- complished in fifteen minutes ; but it was "a bad quarter- hour" for Blake and me. The ladies were carried up in chairs. A strong sea-breeze blew the sulphurous fumes eastward, and made safe our journey almost to the cra- ter's edge. A few extra lira induced two guides to take us men where we could look into the bowl of the vol- cano. Its bottom was crusted over except at two vividly red spots, whence issued vaporous flames like those from the top of a blast furnace. From the Hermitage we drove to Resina in one car- riage, and no opportunity occurred in which to renew my conversation with Louise. Badly as I felt then, a careful review of the situation, during a long walk that night, in the moonlight and alone, restored my peace of mind. Born of contemplation was a plan to hasten the wed- ding of Doris. I'd suggest to Blake, at the first oppor- tunitv, that he insist on a wedding in Northern Italy. VESUVIUS, FkOM THE HERMITAGE; SHOWING THE NEW ROAD THAT FOLLOWS THE CREST OF A RIDCE TO THE CABLE RAILWAY (ERUPTION OF 1895) st. peter's and trajan's tomb, from the tiber Chapter Seventeen Our Debt to Paganism WHEN we reached Rome, it was to visit two cities at the same time, — pagan and Christian. After beholding the vandalism of the Christians, we ceased to shudder at the brutalities of the Romans. Indeed, we experienced a sincere regret that Rome had not been sealed like Pom- peii, to preserve its ancient splendor for modern eyes. Only a meager idea can be formed of the real streets or the social customs of its people. The Colosseum, Arch of Titus, Baths of Caracalla, the Pantheon, and the Forum are practically all that remain of ancient Rome. A fast train, leaving Naples shortly after noon, reaches the Eternal City at dinner-time, traversing a desolate and generally uninteresting country, if we may except the monastery of Monte Cassino, perched on a rocky crag where only the shadow of the Church can fall upon it. We landed at the new station with its fine fountain. 244 Our Debt to Paganism 245 The ladies had secured a suite of apartments in an old palace in the Piazza Poli. Mr-. Blake and I taking rooms at a neat little hotel nearby. Our agreement was to dine together even- night at a restaurant in the Piazza, after' which we were to take coffee at the popular Cafe of Rome on the Corso. More central habitations would have been impossible to find. For a long stay in Rome, lodgings are indispensable. Every house in Rome, excepting the palaces of the King, and those of the other members of the royal family, and that of the Pope and of the cardinals, if not a hotel, has its lodgers. Princes who drive four-in-hands, and whose wives are women-in-wait- ing at the court, have no compunctions to take whole families under their roofs. The splendid palaces of Borghese, Doria, and Barberini, with their magnifi- cent statuary and priceless galleries of pictures, have each of them tenants who actually pay rent to the noble landlords. Story, the American sculptor and poet, lived for years in the Barberini Palace. The Bonapartes at Rome, following the example of the natives, let lodgings at their villa, and at their city house, in which the mother of Xapoleon I. died in 1836. The long street called the Via del Corso. extending from the Piazza del Popolo to'the Piazza Yenczia. is largely occupied by lodgers, the ground floors given up to shops. We prepared for a month's stay, including Holy Week. "Rome is one of the cities in which the services of a guide are indispensable," said Mrs. Wentworth. "Strangers do well to follow Baedeker's advice t.> spend the first day in a carriage along a route that he sug- 246 The Destiny of Doris gests. They thus gain a general idea of the city and its seven hills. After that, an intelligent guide should be engaged, and a week or more given to work. All this must be preliminary to subsequent examination in de- tail. Rome has 400 churches ! Let us examine a score of the most interesting and famous. Suppose we study the life and habits of the ancient Romans before we take up the moderns. Let us live as long as possible in the atmosphere of ancient Rome, not attempting to sep- arate the fabulous from the actual." "It isn't worth while," said I. "One kind of history is as good as another at Athens and Rome. The bar- barians who went about destroying records added to the scope of future historians. What the Gauls did for Rome 360 years after it was founded, Roman interfer- ence in the affairs of Egypt, 48 B. C, did for Alexan- dria." History is filled with battles that never were fought. In his preface to "The Lays of Ancient Rome," Mac- auley sums up the early history of the Eternal City, in a series of mental pictures : "Incidents that suggest themselves are the loves of the Vestal and the God of War, the cradle laid among the reeds of the Tiber, the fig tree, the she-wolf, the shep- herd's cabin, the recognition, the fratricide, the rape of the Sabines, the death of Tarpeia, the fall of Hostius Hos- tilius, the struggle of Mettius Curtins through the march, the women rushing with torn raiment and disheveled hair between their fathers and their husbands, the night- ly meetings of Numa and the Nymph by the well in the sacred grove, the fight of the three Romans and the three ANCIENT CITY OF AMALFI ; SCENE OF A RECENT LANDSLIDE. ONE OF THE QUAINTEST PLACES IN A LAND OF ROMANCE 248 The Destiny of Doris Albans, the purchase of the Sibylline books, the crime of Tullia, the simulated madness of Brutus, the ambigu- ous reply of the Delphian oracle to the Tarquins, the wrongs of Lucretia, the heroic actions of Horatius Codes, of Scsevola and of Clolia, the battle of Regulus, the de- fence of Cremera, the touching story of Coriolanus, the still more pathetic tale of Virginia, the draining of the Alban Lake, the combat between Valerius Corvus and the gigantic Gaul." Like the Biblical history of man, the story of ancient Rome began with the murder of Remus by his brother Romulus, and every page of its subsequent existence bears the blot of assassination and treachery. The Palatine, near the Colosseum, was the "west end" of the ancient city, where dwelt the aristocrats who made a fad of every vice, but trembled when the sacred chick- ens refused to eat. Under the Republic, as under the Empire, slaves were tortured to death. Senators were condemned to obliteration by the rulers, and the chiefs of State themselves were killed in cold blood whenever the people ceased to understand them. To be a Senator under Augustus was as dangerous as being a Congress- man of the United States during the days of Oakes Ames. As a mere pastime, Augustus one day sacrificed three hundred Senators. Escape from Rome was impossible, when the death of a statesman had been decreed. Had the railroad system and the fast steamboats of this age existed, things might have been different. Petronius of to-day, if ordered to open his veins, would probably take the first train for Paris,— that chosen place of refuge for the expatriated. CASTLE OF ST. ANCELO, THE TOMB OF TRAJAN: ONE OK THE GLORIES OF THE ANCIENT CITY, THAT HAS BEEN PRESERVED IN ITS ORIGINAL STATE 250 The Destiny of Doris The Romans builded high and builded well. The few monuments that have "endured the flight of time and wasting storms" and Christian vandalism are worthy of sublimest admiration. They atone in some measure for the despicable characters of the Roman emperors, and, in the presence of the Arch of Titus and the Pan- theon, we cannot forget the picture of Caligula whisper- ing in the ear of Jupiter Capitolinus or recounting in his simpering idiocy the tale of his liaison with the moon. The most luxurious places of ancient Rome were the baths, if we may judge from the massive ruins of Titus and Caraealla, which give the most correct idea of the stupendous character of the architecture of the time. Rome had its Forum : for exactly the same reason as Pompeii. Love of country was the chief part of the pagan religion and oratory, by which patriotism was ex- ploited, and was so essential an art that even Augustus felt justified in an apology for a prepared address. The Romans had no home-life. Young men destined for pub- lic careers spent their time in the Forum listening to the harangues of orators. From earliest hours, the boys were taught to dispute among one another. Any time or place was fitting for a speech. In the social life of ancient Rome, woman had no place, her condition being much the same as that in which we found her at Tangier or Cairo. Slavery was the great blot on Rome, beside which all the maxims of Mar- cus Aurelius and Cato go for nothing, — because they saw no harm in it. The lives of the common people were in constant danger, and. as we have said, the same was * l < '?&i u rJrr'-& » m ' ALL THAT IS LEFT OF THE ROMAN FORUM ; ONCE SUR- ROUNDED BY THE CAPITOL AND OTHER PUBLIC BUILD- INGS OF THE REPUBLIC AND THE EMPIRE 252 The Destiny of Doris true of the most distinguished participants in public life. s Modern Koine is a modern city in spots. Unlike Cairo, where the line between the old and the new is drawn as with a scimiter, the Eternal City has been rebuilt at random. Hundreds of acres of devastated antiquity still await the rejuvenating" hand of an Italian Haussmann. When we remember that Xew Italy is little more than thirty years of age, and that since that time Rome has been made the modern city she is, we must admit that much has been accomplished. The State is indebted to the Church for the protection of the priceless works of art that give Rome its chief attraction, but greatness never endured in a nation or a city dominated by religi- ous fanaticism. Architecturally, Rome has not advanced since the days of Michael Angelo. Its new public build- ings, of recent construction, cannot compare with those in other cities of Europe. Italy is poor, and her people are overtaxed ; outside Milan and Genoa, private capital does not seek investment in splendid structures. Rome possesses several fine avenues belonging to the new era, but her shops are not on a par with other cities of the kingdom. We passed a busy and interesting period in the Ital- ian capital. Mr. Blake was perhaps the most enthusias- tic member of the party, having been a classical student in college, but Doris was no less familiar than he with the Golden Age of Rome. The city was not new to Mrs. Wentworth or me, so the young people did much sight- seeing together. Mrs. Wentworth and I made a visit to Tivoli. We GRECIAN TEMPLE ON THE LAKE IN THE GARDENS OF THE VILLA BORGHESE : IN THIS PARK A CREA^ SCENE IN "THE MARBLE FAUN" OCCURS 254 The Destiny of Doris went on a morning-train from the Porta San Lorenzo, and visited Adrian's Villa and the supposed country seats of Maecenas and his protege Horace. On the site of Maecenas' Villa stood an electric-light plant, and the Villa of Horace was a shabby place, in a site that the poet would never have endured for an hour. While we were seated under the trees of the Villa d'Este, I ventured to take Mrs. Wentworth's hand and to renew the assurances of my devotion. She listened with patience, but said : "You know my situation in life to the utmost detail, Mr. North. I have kept nothing from you, and you also understand that for the present I have entirely subordi- nated my happiness in this world to that of my child — " "But her future is assured," I hastened to interpose. "Mr. Blake ie worthy of her in every respect ; he is a man of fortune and good sense." "When they are married, as I hope, possibly we may renew this subject, but for the present I again beg that it be dropped," and, to give' an abrupt turn to the conver- sation, she drew from her pocket a translation of Hor- ace's Ode to M.ecenas, made by Doris in what she de- scribed as "the Boston dialect of the American language." I took it from her hand, and, after reading, made this brief extract to indicate the new rendering : Ad Maecknatkm. Scion from royal lineage sprung My guide, my friend when I was young : ;!; ;!; •',: * * * * * ROMAN YOUTH, DESCENDED FROM PATRICIAN ANCESTRY. WHO PAYS A DAILY VISIT TO THE MONUMENT OF RIENZI, LAST OF THE TRIBUNES, ON THE PINCIAN HILL 256 The Destiny of Doris The war of creeds, affairs of State, Better man than I must wait : As for me, though I be poor I am going in for Literatoor. "This is what Doris declares Horace meant to say in his first £)de," remarked Mrs. Wentworth. **\Ye have a lot of people in the United States who are hugging themselves with the idea that they are descended from royal ancestry," I suggested. "They 'go in for lit'rature' to the extent of supporting a magazine and publishing collections of pedigrees more complicated than those to be found in Lodge or Burke." "Yes, I have met some of those Americans who hanker after remote royal progenitors, but they always impress me as very ignorant people. How anybody with an un- tainted family history could claim to be descended from William the Conqueror, I fail to understand. There was a skeleton in his family before he was born, and a bar- sinister on his escutcheon afterward !" After a visit to the waterfalls in the Temple of the Sibyl, we drove four miles to the Villa of Hadrian, near Osteria, where we passed a pleasant hour and then took the tram back to town. Of Rome's many churches, the Pantheon is by far the most interesting. It was an ancient Roman temple, ded- icated to any and all gods, but its architecture was so sublime that Michael Angelo literally placed a copy of it under the dome of St. Peter's. Naples and Genoa have replicas of it, and Paris has built upon its lines a struc- ture as beautiful as the original. THE BEAUTIFUL FOUNTAIN OF TREVI, NEAR PIAZZA POLI, THF WATERS OF WHICH WERE MUSIC IN THE EARS OF MRS. WENTWORTH AND HER DAUGHTER, EVERY NIGHT 258 The Destiny of Doris So grand in its proportions is St. Peter's, that many visits are necessary for its appreciation. In lengthening the edifice, Michael Angelo destroyed the view of its graceful dome from the piazza in front of the cathedral. The church is best appreciated exteriorily at a distance, where it can be seen in its entirety. The Sistine Chapel, with its marvelous ceiling, is reached by a long stairway, the steps of which are easy as the flight of time. And the Vatican Galleries ! — what words of worthy comment can be written at this late day in praise of the Apollo, the Laocoon, the Dying Gaul, and the paintings by Ra- phael, Guido, and Michael Angelo? Holy Week brought thousands of non-Catholics to Rome. Vast crowds attended church daily, not only at the basilicas of St. Peter, St. John di Laterano and Santa Maria Maggiore. but also at the lesser churches of the Jesuits and the Augustinians. We heard the Tenebrae sung at St. John di Laterano. Under the lofty dome of St. Peter's, mass was simultaneously celebrated daily in half a dozen chapels. Multitudes of people walked through the cathedral meanwhile, and conversed on all subjects ; but the edifice is so huge that no interruption of services occurred. Religion leveled all ranks ; princes and paupers, soldiers and civilians, clergy and laity jostled each other. The celebration of Pontifical High Mass on Easter morning was witnessed by Mrs. Wentworth and her daughter, from seats secured through the aid of a long- while resident in Rome. The celebrant was the Cardinal- Archbishop of the Diocese. The congregation stood be- fore the main altar, in front of the tomb of St. Peter. THE COLISSEUM AND THE ARCH OF TITUS; THE LATTER IS THE MOST PERFECT AN- CIENT MONUMENT IN ROME 260 The Destiny of Doris The mass was introduced by a flute-obligato solo from Weber's "Romanza," low and plaintive as a sorrowing soul. As the organ took up the theme and the air of the church became alive with harmony and sympathy, the celebrant and his attendant ascended the altar. Remov- ing' his miter the Cardinal made a profound inclina- tion, and signed himself with the Cross. The choir broke forth into the Kyrie Elision, which on that occa- sion was Beethoven's Mass in C ; the succeeding Gloria was also sung to Beethoven's music. Facing the vast audience, the celebrant intoned the words, "Gloria In Excelsis Deo" and the choir filled the cathedral with a shout of praise. The Collect was then read ; next the Epistle, by one of the deacons. The Gradual was chanted by a special choir of priests, in Gregorian manner; after which Adam's "Noel" was sung. The air, now heavy with perfume from a swinging censer, pulsated with the rythm of heavenly music. The Gospel was read by one of the deacons, very briefly; then the Credo, — the Cardinal advancing as he chanted, ■ — "Credo in Unum Deum." For the Absolution, attendant deacons brought a golden ewer and a towel of lace. Descending from the altar, the officiating Cardinal washed his hands ; then, reas- cending, he began to chant in a clear and penetrating voice, "Promnia Saecula Saeculorum." All the bishops, priests, and acolytes responded. After the Canon was read, the Consecration followed, while the choir sang the "Agnes Dei." Three strokes of a bell, far away, told that the service was at an end. VILLA PALLAVICINI, AT PEGLI, ON THE WESTERN RIVIERA, NEAR GENOA A City of Palaces Chapter Eighteen WE shall make Genoa our headquarters, from which we can visit the cities of the Riv- iera and Northern Italy," said Mrs. Went- worth, as our steamer left the Bay of Naples for the brief but delightful voyage that would end next day at the Ligurian seaport. "Milan, Lakes Como and Maggiori, Verona, Venice, Bologna, Flor- ence, Pisa, Mentone, and Monte Carlo are in easy reach." "Isn't this better than going up by rail?" asked Doris. "Much pleasanter," replied her mother. "We shall ar- range a circular tour from Genoa." "We haven't had a dull moment," was my comment. "I shall always be grateful that you suggested my going to Egypt, and in return 1 now invite you to be my guests for a trip to Monte Carlo. Will you all accept ?" "I don't think that question need he put to a vote," an- swered .Mrs. Went worth. "We shall take you at your word. Do I speak for you, Mr. Blake?" 261 262 The Destiny of Doris "Yes, indeed," was his prompt reply. "I never have been at Monte Carlo, though I have seen 'the wheel go round' a few times at Long Branch and Saratoga." "We are not going there to gamble, but to study human nature," seemed the best way to dispose of his reference to the notorious occupation of most of the visitors to the Principality of Monaco. "Years have passed since I've been there, but, I assure you, the Casino and its grounds occupy the prettiest site on the Mediterranean." We enjoyed dinner on board ship after the long stay ashore. The night was quiet as a trip to Fall River. Blake and I occupied a stateroom together, had our coffee early, and were on deck to see the Island of Monte Cristo. Its desolate cliffs were interspersed with a few spots of green, but it was exactly such a place as the won- derful Dumas would have chosen for the treasure-cave of his hero Edmund Dantes. "Before the day is over, we shall cease to draw upon the realm of fiction,'' said I. "The romance of actual life will have far overshadowed the wildest imagination." "You refer to the Island of Elba, I suppose?" replied Blake. "Yes, we shall run close to Elba, and shall see the site of the toy 'palace' in which the puppet court of the de- throned monarch was held." Three hours later we stood at the port-rail, studying the petty dominion that the Powers had mockingly con- ferred upon Napoleon after his abdication. The sight was disposed to render us very thoughtful. "How easy to understand the Emperor's return to A City of Palaces 263 France and 'The Hundred Days,' after surveying that wretched, rocky isle!" exclaimed Mrs. Wentworth. "Look !" cried Doris, pointing to the mainland, then in plain view. "There is Italy ! Napoleon had named its kings ! Resignation to such a fate as Elba was not to be expected of any man !" Picturesque Castle on an Islet of Ischia, Now Used as a Prison "I wonder if the Great Commander was not put there for humiliation rather than punishment?" suggested Mrs. Wentworth. "It would have been worthy the brain of a Metternich or a Talleyrand to have subjected Xapoleon to the same test as the Maid of Orleans. You remember how her armor was placed within reach, and how the technical violation of her oath was made the pretext for 264 The Destiny of Doris the stake and fagot? Elba was a forethought of St. Helena!" "There stands the marble monument we expected to find," said Blake. "The building wherein Napoleon lived has disappeared." "Corsica, with its towering mountains, looms to the westward," said I. "In an eye-stroke, we have before us the Story of Napoleon, from birth to banishment. There's nothing in the whole range of fiction that paral- lels his career." The Gulf of Genoa, on a bright afternoon, creates a mental picture that abides forever. The first sight of the City of Palaces is more impressive than that of Naples or Gibraltar. "This is a favorite place of mine," said Mrs. Went- worth, "and I suggest a famous old hotel that was once a convent. Its rooms are of mammoth proportions and its site is one of the best in Genoa. We shall be very comfortable, and the proprietor will take care of our heavy baggage while we are making the trips we pro- pose." Our first dinner was taken at a restaurant on the Heights of Castellaccio, reached by a funicolari from the center of the city. "From no other view-point can so clear a conception of the city and harbor be obtained," said Mrs. Went- worth, as she led us out on the broad veranda of the eyrie cafe. At our feet lay the busiest seaport of Italy. Far off to the right, amid a cluster of cypresses on the edge of a precipitous bluff, was the grave of James Smithson, GENOA, FROM THE RHICI, WHERE THE MER- RY TRAVELLERS DINED AMONG THE BIRDS AND CLOUDS, AND GAZED SEAWARD 266 The Destiny of Doris endeared to every American by the endowment of the Institute at Washington bearing his name. Seaward, was the breakwater that has made Genoa one of the saf- est harbors in the world, — a gift of her citizen, the Duchess of Galliera, costing twenty million francs. To the east were the terraces of San Francesco d'Albaro. Our table was so placed that we could study the beauti- ful city of stately white houses, interspersed with parks, fountains, and broad avenues. "I say, Vernon," began Doris, turning to Blake, "you might charter a trolley car while you are here. I fear I shall want to spend most of my time on the Via Cir- comvallazione, which follows the crest of the hills." This produced a general smile. "I've already engaged an automobile, warranted to climb the side of a house," was Blake's quick reply. "But, of course, you can have the car if you prefer it." "Telemachus might have said of Genoa, as he did of Ithaca: 'It isn't much of a place for horses,'" I chimed in, knowing Blake's fondness for the classics. "He didn't know what he was talking about," retorted Blake. "I was at Ithaca myself four years, and kept a horse during my sophomore and junior years." "Oh ! you mean a 'college-pony !' " exclaimed Doris. "Tell us all about it." "It's a sad story," was the reply, with affected gravity. "He was a noble animal : I imported him myself. We sophomores had been cantering easily across the green meadows of Xenophon's 'Memorabilia,' when the Master of the Hunt, who pretended to be Professor of Greek, thought our pace too gentle, and suddenly swerved into CASTLE ON THE HEICHTS BEHIND CENOA : AN ELECTRICAL ROAD FOLLOWS THE CREST OF THESE HILLS 268 The Destiny of Doris another field called 'iEschines on the Crown.' I couldn't go that any better than the rest of my class- mates. New York was searched in vain, but the particu- " lar kind of horse needed for the rocky syntax couldn't be bought. I cabled to London, and in ten days my pet, my prince of horse-flesh, arrived! For six months I rode him every morning across the barbed-wire fences of the ablative-absolute and the sloughs of irregular verbs. Though he never bucked, we sometimes fell to- gether, but he'd always wait for me to regain my pres- ence of mind." "How very pathetic!"' commented Doris. "What be- came of him ?" "I refused to sell him, but gave him to a loving master in the class below me. I preferred that he have a trusty keeper. My old college-pony is still alive, — my noble ^Eschines !" "It was 'a horse' on the Greek professor, sure enough," said I. The dinner was delightful in every detail, and we de- scended from the dizzy height, as we might have taken a toboggan slide in Kansas City. "The guide books treat Genoa very unfairly," said Blake, when we assembled for dejeuner next day. "A great deal can be said about it. Like Florence, it was a stronghold before Romulus and Remus ascended the Tiber. It contains one of the quaintest little churches of Italy, built by the Crusaders." "Doris and I went to the Cathedral of San Lorenzo this morning," said Mrs. Wentworth. "It is a long, narrow edifice, with a fine fac,ade of twisted columns, and, WEALTHY GENOESE TAKE A CHEERFUL VIEW OF DEATH AT THEIR CAMPO SANTO. KEY IN HAND THIS SCULP- TURED FICURE IS ENTERING HER OWN TOMB 270 The Destiny of Doris unlike most Gothic churches, is without a nave to give it the form of a cross. Its alternating - layers of black and white marble recall the Duomo in Florence." We passed the afternoon at the Campo Santo, unques- tionably the most interesting' cemetery in the world. Nearly every monument is a work of art, and vast sums of money have been expended on the enormous structure that contains the vaults. Only the poor are buried in the ground. The tomb of Mazzini, on an eminence, is simple though massive in proportions. "I was living in Genoa when this woman died," began Mrs. Wentworth, as she stopped before the statue of a peasant woman surmounting a grave in one of the most costly parts of the cemetery. "The event occasioned much talk. A fruit-seller, she had risen from very humble birth to considerable wealth. She owned houses and lands, but continued her avocation. One day she was stricken with what was believed to be fatal illness. Her relatives assembled at her bedside, and, supposing her already dead, quarreled over the division of her property. She had heard everything ; and, regaining her faculties, she drove them from the house. Her first act, after leaving her bed, was to come here and select this site for a tomb. She then engaged one of the best sculptors in Liguria, and gave him sittings for this statue, especially enjoin- ing him to preserve her peasant-garb. She wished to humble the vanity of her relatives and to spend every lira she possessed ! The monument was set up before her death, and she often came to admire it. The vault cost her forty thousand lira, and the statue as much more!" GENOA, FROM THE CUSTOM HOUSE, SHOWING THE ESPLANADE AND LEVEE : HEIGHT OF HILLS BEHIND AVERACES 1,200 FEET 272 The Destiny of Doris "She certainly carried her revenge to the verge of the grave," added Doris. "Although there are several monuments here embody- ing artistic thoughts, there is nothing so horribly realistic as that famous monument in St. Paul's, London, where the figure of death is dragging the body of the deceased into a tomb," said Mrs. Wentworth. "Let's go and dine at the Righi again ! Didn't we have enough of tombs and ghastly sepulchres in the Nile Valley?" persisted Blake. In half an hour we were seated at the lofty perch overlooking, what Blake, in his admiration, denominated, "The Hunki-Doria City." The generosity of her citizens has provided Genoa with two highly interesting art-collections, found in the Palaces Rosso and Bianco. In the former, are exquisite Van Dycks, especially his portrait of the founders of the Brignoli-Sale family, whose descendants gave these two buildings and their contents. In the Rosso is the handsomest mirror in Italy. Several private galleries are well worth seeing, notably those in the Doria. Du- razzo-Pallavicini and Balbi-Senarega Palaces. Many fine examples of Rubens, Van Dyck, Guido, Titian, and Paulo Veronese are on those walls. Houses in which Byron lived and Daniel O'Connell died are marked with tablets. Blake and I ran down to Pisa one morning to see the leaning tower. We snapped this view from the train, showing the Cathedral, baptistry, and leaning bell-tower. Excursions were made to Pegli on the west shore, and Nervi on the east. The splendid gardens of the Mar- A City of Palaces 273 quis di Pallavicini, at the former suburb, contain spec- imens of every tree that grows in Europe, and an artifi- cial grotto, embellished with stalactites and stalagmites brought from caves of Spain and Austria. Xervi is a replica of Capri or Amalfi, done in the modern villa- style. The palm tree (Fcrncx sylvestrix) thrives at Pegli, Cathedral, Baptistry, and Leaning-tower at Pisa: the Tower is of Carrara Marble,— a Jewel of Architecture where its branches take the color of the waves of the sea. I was assured by the owner of a beautiful garden filled with them, that the palm needed no cultivation there, and would endure snow after the fifth year. It will live where the cold docs not exceed 10" Centigrade. Why are there no palms at Old Point Comfort? GENERAL VIEW OF THE PRINCE OF MONACO S DOMAIN Chapter Nineteen The World of Chance THE journey into the sunshine at Monte Carlo is almost subterranean. There are thirty tunnels between Genoa and Ventimiglia ! Hungry for daylight, we stopped over a train at this frontier town, and enjoyed the famous view of the Mediterranean from its terrace at the citadel ; then we proceeded to Mentone, and drove about that bower of roses for a couple of hours. The beautiful town nestles in a cove, that protects it from the blasts of winter, but renders it very warm in summer. Monte Carlo is only ten minutes' ride from Mentone, and before eight o'clock we sat down to dinner in the most frivolous and picturesque of all cities of Europe. Our hotel was on the esplanade, near the Casino, where we could study the rapid life that moved about us. The Principality owes everything it possesses to the gambling corporation, which maintains the Casino and gardens. Every extravagance and luxury that money can provide, 274 The World of Chance 275 is ir evidence. Under the Casino-roof is an opera house, dainty as a jewel-case, and perfect in its acoustic properties. The foyer to the play-rooms is rendered im- posing by a fine row of columns. From it a door admits the public to the salons. Crowds of forty or fifty persons surround each of the tables. Many visitors are merely spectators: their faces evince only curiosity. Some of the players are indiffer- ent to loss or gain ; but worse specimens of greedy hu- manity do not exist. Handsomely gowned women from all parts of Europe are elbowing one another for seats. The spectacle is not attractive. Even less pleasant is it to comprehend that respectable women come to study and imitate their sisters of another world. We joined the throng about one of the fascinating wheels, and were present when a well-known New York speculator, known by the frigid title of "The Ice King," made an attack upon the roulette table, a fact widely chronicled by the French and American press. Being unacquainted with the language, he requested that a croupier be assigned to him who spoke English. This was easy, as several British and American employees are attached to the establishment. He secured a seat from a woman for a few Napoleons, and, with "Dr. Jack- Martingale, of Saratoga," at his side, he changed a bundle of bank-notes into gold. He was methodical as an ac- countant ; cold as the staple that he monopolized in his own land. "What's the last number out ?" he asked. "Fifteen," replied Martingale. "Has anybody kept a tab?" was the next inquiry. 276 The Destiny of Doris A pale-visaged man across the table evidently under- stood his words ; for he held up a sheet of paper contain- ing figures. "Ask him what he wants for it," said the Ice King to Martingale. "One louis," the stranger answered for himself, in English. Tossing a gold piece across the board, the American took up the sheet. Here is a copy of the "tab," showing the action of the machine, reading downward on each column : 18 20 8 -31 3 30 2 33 2 3 7 33 13 3 1 5 24 30 34 7 20 35 10 29 11 23 26 1 11 30 19 15 28 17 3i 28 !9 27 15 6 7 4 36 26 36 19 32 11 36 30 6 34 34 7 22 1 17 30 36 24 2 22 7 17 1 28 12 2 17 5 27 7 17 36 34 17 7 36 23 6 36 30 3i 6 34 J 5 27 7 24 3 18 9 14 6 23 19 25 22 36 4 19 1 4 21 22 32 9 4 16 36 36 26 32 12 19 13 10 Studying the tabulated score, the New Yorker thus self- commented : — "One hundred and seventeen rolls, — scarce- ly enough to give me a line on the wheel ; but sixes and sevens are 'running'; 17, 31, 7, 1, and 19 have 'repeated.' Seven has won thrice in succession, — that's enough for THE THEATRE AND CASINO AT MONTE CARLO, SURROUNDED BY ONE OF THE MOST BEAU- TIFUL GARDENS IN EUROPE 278 The Destiny of Doris big money. And it has appeared eight times, or once in every fourteen plays. That's quite often. The 'neigh- bors' don't appear to be in favor. Number One succeeds 36, and 36 follows 1. And, by Jupiter! the same thing occurs in the third column. Then the wheel goes on a racket into another series. But, notice the sixth column ! The ball runs into the third dozen six out of thirteen times. The last column is significant of nothing except the transcendent run of 7; the multiples of it do not appear, nor can we divide any of the other numbers by the magic digit. What has just rolled? Oh! you've been keeping the numbers, Martingale? I see — 24, 14, 3, 22, 34, 3,—" "Thirty-four, and red," whispers Martingale, as the ball falls' "If that series will continue for five minutes, I'll make this wheel tired," and Martingale is instructed to place the wager thus : "Four louis each on 22, 24, 15 and 3 ; 'star' the 5 ; 'split' 17 and 20 for five louis ; play 34, to repeat for what you like." The perverse wheel shies the ball into an entirely new field. "Six," is the laconic remark of the croupier. Before the Ice King had received the seventeen golden louis won a chcval 5-6, he examined the "tab" to see what 6 had previously done. Four had followed it once ; 36, 14 and 24 at other times. "Number 4 ought to be good. Thirty-six is in the 34- 35-36 row. Now for it! Play the 4-5-6 and 34-35-36 rows for a thousand francs each; a 500-franc note on INTERIOR OF THE GRAND SALON IN THE CASINO, SHOWING THE ROULETTE TABLES 280 The Destiny of Doris 14 and another on 24. If the wheel will run kindly! It does ! 'The house loses and the gentleman wins' — " "Twenty-four!" exclaimed Martingale, adding in a low voice, "You win seventeen thousand five hundred francs." The Ice King didn't have to be told. He could have "paid" as well as any croupier at that table. "Yes ; I lose 2,500 francs, — 15,000 net winning. Now, Martingale, I want to get every louis they will let me wager on 36 and 3. The o is worth a hundred, as a saver." "They'll let you play 1,000 francs flat, 2,000 a chcval, 3,000 on a row, 5,000 on the third column and 10,000 on the color." "Not on the color, that isn't roulette. A thousand, flat, on 3 and 36 ; 2,000 on the line between 33-36 and the same on 35-36; 3,000 on row 34-35-36. Make it 500 on the zero. Leave my bet on 24. It may repeat. Thunder, I can still play the last dozen for a thousand. If — " "Thirty-six ! You win again." Not a muscle of the American's face changes. He takes up a card and begins to calculate : — "On 36, I win 35,000 francs, plus 34,000 a cheval and on the last dozen 5,000, total 74,000 francs, nearly $15,000." It was the greatest coup of the season. • Instead of stopping, the Ice King determines that the table shall suspend for the day — an invariable rule fol- lowed whenever 200,000 francs are lost by one set of croupiers. He actually believes he can do it! The American is fully $10,000 ahead, deducting all his losses. But he cannot quit. Therein lies the real percentage in MONTE CARLO. LOOKING TOWARD MENTONE, FROM THE GARDENS OF THE CASINO. THE CORNICE ROAD IS AT THE BASE OF THE CLIFFS 282 The Destiny of Doris favor of the bank. Several of the other tables are de- serted by players who come scurrying across the waxed floor to watch "the plunger,*' and to get a bet down on one of his lucky squares. The Ice King is a changed ; man. He is feeding on success. Many of the bills be- fore him are crisp and bright as the new money one gets in Washington. He places them on the table, fearlessly. "Thirteen in the black," said Martingale, from force of American habit. The French croupier never mentions the color. He will bar the zero if you want to play the red and black only. "Nobody wins !" exclaims a bystander, as the croupiers rake and push the notes and gold from all parts of the table. The Ice King has lost 5.000 francs. "Thirteen has only appeared three times in a hundred and fifty rolls, — a slow and unlucky number," he mut- ters. Again, with Martingale's assistance, he scatters his money about the table. It seems impossible that he can have overlooked the winning number. Finally, he tosses 500 francs on each of the threes, 3, 23, 33, having already an equal amount upon 13, in the hope that it will "repeat." "Seventeen wins." Nothing for the big player. What a run of black! Were the Ice King content with' even money, he might be winning, not losing; but thirty-five to one is the odds he demands. He is now wagering 5,000 francs on every turn of the wheel, and has lost more than half his winnings. Seventeen is one of the banner-numbers of the night. It has "repeated," and his code of supersti- tion leads the plunger to believe it may do so 'again. DRIVEWAY, UNDER THE BATTLEMENTED WALLS OF OLD MONACO ; PALACE OF THE PRINCE UPON THE HEIGHTS 284 The Destiny of Doris The 17-20 looks like an admiral's flag! It is "starred" and "buttoned" and "braced on the row;" it is played "flat" for 1,000 francs, and its "neighbors" on the wheel are protected. The dealer is a trifle nervous and drops one ball on the floor. Another is supplied. Tr-r-r-r-r-r — the ball is rolling. Everybody at the table awaits the decision with breathless anxiety. Now, the ball is tumbling, — rat-tat- tat-snap-rat-tat — "Seventeen in the — white!" Martingale is flurried for the first time in all his career. But the player is as cold as his own ice. "Umph! Exactly 63,500 francs," is his comment. He had figured it out before the ball fell. A look of blank amazement is on the faces of the croup- iers at this table. They care nothing about the money, but they are alarmed to see that so old a knight of the gaming-table as "Doc Martingale has lost his nerve. "Seventeen is never in the white," they mutter, and the old croupier slips out of the Casino, across to the Restaurant de Paris to brace up on cognac. The Ice King has regained his losses by one bold dash. Will he stop now? Never! It is so easy to win, he thinks for the moment. Some louis d'or are knocked off the table. The money-mad man doesn't even look for them. He says in English, after he has placed his money, "I'm fixed; you can't beat me!" "Numero trois!" calls a new croupier, mechanically. The Ice King doesn't understand the French, but he sees the ball go into 3. Nothing for him ! Every franc he had wagered is lost ! The ball is perverse as a balky VIEW OF THE CASINO GARDENS, SHOWINC THE CELEBRATED DOUBLE ROW OF PALMS AND THE BEAUTIFUL FLOWERS 286 The Destiny of Doris mule. He can't guess its decision. The voice of the dealer has taken on the timbre of retribution. It names all numbers but the right one. "Why doesn't he stop?" whispers Mrs. Wentworth, almost agonized. "Stop! How little you know about the passion of gambling,'' I replied. "No; he must go on ! Tell a man in the Niagara rapids to come ashore, but never expect a roulette player who has made a heavy loss to quit. He cannot !" Having exhausted all the gold and bank-notes in front of him, the American reaches deeply in his pockets for more money. He knows he is sure of a heavy loss ; but he cannot quit. He has forgotten the "tab" he prized. Cool as he looks, the man is in another existence — in hell, if found on earth. The cynicism of his smile is that of Satan himself ! The loss of money doesn't cause it, but chagrin at defeat, at failure. Cold beads of perspiration are on the Ice King's brow. No "system," no "neighbors" or "multiples" for him. He chases the wheel, and it outstrips him. The ball rolls slowly, but dodges his numbers. Again, and yet again, the table is cleared of the debris of gold coin and French bank-notes : a few louis are won occasionally on the line or on the row ; but to place a wager success- fully seems impossible. The American holds up his hand for delay. He makes another "plunge." He throws money on the "lay out" until he hears the words, "Nothing more goes!" Then he waits, and the ball falls — into zero. He has overlooked the o ! He has now lost $20,000, in addition to all his winnings. SAN REMO. A BOWER OF FLOWERS AND ORCHIDS ; ONE OF THE PRETTIEST PLACES ON THE RIVIERA 288 The Destiny of Doris We followed the dethroned king to the moonlighted terrace. His mistake had been in playing the numbers as they are arranged on the wheel in America. The or- der at Monte Carlo is wholly different. Had he wagered on the "neighbors" as there found, he could have won instead of lost. He knew the American wheel too well. At Monte Carlo the thirty-six numbers are in this or- der, to the right of zero: — 32, 15, 19, 4, 21, 2, 25, 17, 34, 6, 27, 13, 36, 11, 30, 8, 2^, 10, 5, 24, 16, 33, 1, 20, 14, 31, 9, 22, 18, 29, 7, 28, 12, 35, 3, 26. "Gaze upon that fairy palace," said I ; "behold these sparkling fountains, these flowering plants, this reckless extravagance that surrounds us, and answer me, 'How could he win?' " Next morning the subsidized Paris newspapers con- tained pretty tales by wire, entitled : "The American Ice King breaks the Bank at Monte Carlo." Such is the game of roulette, and such is the fate of its devotees. To win is not so difficult ; but to resist the wild impulse to ruin the establishment is impossible. Across a gorge from the Casino rises a solitary rock known as "Old Monaco," where is the palace of the Prince, guarded by a squad of soldiers that constitute his army. The Principality is hardly larger than the flag that floats from the palace-roof. The Cornice road, half-way up the mountain-side, marks the landward limit of the dominion. "Monte Carlo resembles one of those toy towns that were my delight in childhood," said Mrs. Wentworth, as we ascended bv a cable road to a mountain-height OLD MONACO, ON ITS ROCKY HEIGHT: THE WHITE PALACE IS IN THE CENTRE, AND THE CAMBLING CASINO IS SEEN FAR THROUGH THE TREES 290 The Destiny of Doris on the north. "Its yellow block-houses, with their pink tile roofs, and trees that might be made of curled shav- ings stained with green wax, sustain the illusion." "Yes, but here is the blue Mediterranean," answered Doris. "You never found that in any box of toys. To me it is the most beautiful thing here." "The scenery is very rugged at Monte Carlo," mused Mrs. Wentworth. "So it is, — in the salons of the Casino," replied Blake. As the moth goes back to the flame, so returned we to the gambling-rooms next day. By mutual agreement, we limited ourselves to a loss of one hundred francs. Mr. Blake had some luck. He won several coups by playing Miss Wentworth's age. A well-groomed American bowed to him across the table: "Hello, Vernon!" "Hello, Tracy! Any luck?" "None whatever," was the reply. "Poor Tailback," commented Blake, as we left the salon. "He's been up against a worse game than this for years." "What can that be?" we all asked, in the same breath. "Paying alimony," retorted Blake. MILAN S CATHEDRAL IS THE DOMINATING FEATURE Chapter Twenty Home of the Lombard Kings WONDERFUL Milan!" is the phrase. The Lombard kings of to-day are the masters of trade in Italy! Milan is growing in population and wealth at a rate that rivals Chicago. Shaded avenues extend for miles along the edge of its mediaeval moat. Its city-wall and massive gateway are the only reminders of antiquity. Although slightly smaller in population than Naples and Rome, its thrift is indicated on every hand. The focus of commercial and public life in Milan is the Piazza del Duomo, where stands the Cathedral, one of the wonders of the world. "Mother and I came up from Genoa underground," said Doris, when I rejoined the Wentworth party at Milan. "The first twenty-five miles were through tun- nels one nine kilometers in length; but Milan is worth the trouble. Its Cathedral is lace-work in stone. I felt the same kind of an awe-invoked shiver that I experi- 291 292 The Destiny of Doris enced at Karnak, but there the comparison ended. The beautiful Duomo is living art ; the Egyptian temples be- long to a dead and buried school." "Did you climb to the top of the Cathedral?" was my first question. "Ask mamma!" was the reply. "She protested at ev- ery landing, and, afraid I'd get lost among the spires on the roof, she followed, red of face and breathing hard, but vigilant. Finally, we arrived at the roof. I confess I went to see Napoleon's statue as a Greek hero. It is atop the sixth pinnacle from the front, midway up the west side of the roof, not at the eaves. It is Napo- leon's face, especially his nose and chin, but the body is that of an athlete, which Napoleon was not. He was called 'Puss in Boots' by ladies who didn't like him. When 1 pointed out the statue to my mother, she gazed at it intently for a few minutes. 'Quite modest!' was her comment. Assuming she referred to the statue it- self, I explained that the draperies were held about the body by the Greek athletes until entering a contest of strength or valor, when they were cast aside. 'Oh ! I didn't mean that,' she rejoined. 'I was surprised Napo- leon hadn't assigned himself to the top of the central pinnacle.' " "What most impressed you about the Duomo?" I in- quired. "Religiously, the absence of the Cross," was Doris' prompt rejoinder. "Except the emblem in the right hand of the Christ, atop the central tower, I did not observe a cross anywhere on the outside of the Cathe- dral." NAPOLEON'S STATUE, AS A CREEK HERO. ATOP THE MILAN CATHEDRAL: A BIT OF MODEST SELF-GLORIFICATION 294 The Destiny of Doris We went to the refectory of Santa Maria della Gra- zie, and studied "The Last Supper" of Leonardo da Vinci. The suppressed monastery is now a cavalry bar- rack, though the long room containing this immortal work is preserved in all its original gloominess. "The Last Supper" occupies the end wall of the apartment farthest from the door, and is in a deplorable condition. No living artist can restore it. Despite the ravages of time, the emotions that the master intended to express are still apparent upon the faces of the Saviour and his Disciples. The idealized portrait of Christ is sympa- thetic and forgiving to the highest degree, though the artist has chosen the moment in which He exclaimed, — "And yet, one of you shall betray me !" Protestations almost can be heard issuing from the lips of the Apos- tles. John is the calmest man at the table. Judas "doth 'protest too much." Peter, probably under suspicion be- cause of previous repudiations, displays excellent tact. He makes only one firm denial. In this marvelous pic- ture, the development of Italian art attained its per- fection. The exquisite equilibrium of the whole compo- sition is not disturbed by the completeness of the indi- vidual groups. The spectator's eye focuses itself natur- ally upon the central figure, and his mind absorbs the thrill of indignant surprise so clearly agitating the Apos- tles. Music is inhaled with the air in Lombardy. If Leonardo failed to make Milan a center of Art dur- ing the Rennaisance, Verdi recently established Music there so firmly that it cannot be dethroned. La Scala was the scene of his greatest triumphs. His gaunt fig- INTERIOR OF ROOM IN CAVALRY BARRACKS. REFRECTORY OF SANTA MARIA DELLE CRA2IA, SHOWING THE POSITION OF LEONARDO'S IMMORTAL PICTURE 296 The Destiny of Doris ure, surmounted by its slouch hat, was known to every street urchin of the Lombard capital. Before his death, he built and endowed a home for aged musicians, after the plan of the Forrest Home, near Philadelphia. This red-brick structure is outside the city-walls, near the gate of Magenta. It surrounds an open court in which are a fountain and plants. Verdi's body rests there, but the place is not open to visitors, who would be glad to lay a flower upon his tomb. In a direct line across the city from the Verdi Home, is the white marble Arch of Peace, begun for the Foro Bonaparte, in 1806, and completed under the Austrian domination, in 1838. Its use to-day seems to be com- memorative of the triumph of the allied armies of Na- poleon III. and Victor Emanuele over the Austrians. The conflicting inscriptions are amusing. The Arena, erected in 1805 by Napoleon, is one of the most commodious grounds for athletic games in Europe. Like the amphitheatre at Verona, it is fashioned after the Roman Colosseum, and will readily seat twenty thou- sand people. The "Italian lakes," two of which are largely Swiss, are the villa-sites of the Milanese aristocracy. Lake Como is only an hour and a quarter distant, and can be reached almost any time of the day. Therefore, leaving their hotel early, Mrs. Wentworth and her daughter ran up to the Town of Como, where they took a steamer on the lake to Bellagio, a beautiful little hamlet of 800 in- habitants at the top of a wooded promontory that separates the Lake of Como from the Lake of Lecco. THE WONDER OF THE MODERN WORLD, THE DUOMO AT MILAN: THE SPLENDID ARCADE OF VICTOR EMANUELE IS SEEN ON THE LEFT 298 The Destiny of Doris Como is identical in shape with Lake Itasca, in Minne- sota. During the afternoon, the ladies made the ascent of the Monte San Primo (5,550 feet) with a guide, passing a series of villas unequaled anywhere except along the Posilipo road at Naples or at Paradiso on the heights above Lake Lugano. Next day they crossed the lake to Menaggio, where a train was waiting to take them eight miles to Porlezza, on the Lake of Lugano, crowded with scenery of grander but more somber char- acter. Taking passage down the lake, they had luncheon on the steamer, and in an hour entered Switzerland at Oria. The remainder of the short voyage was amid heroically beautiful scenery. Lugano was reached at 4 o'clock ; a cable road carried the ladies up the mountain- side a mile to the St. Gothard railway, whence an express returned them in three hours to the Central Station in Milan. "Two days of an exhilarating outing," said Mrs. Went- worth. "And another gonfalon in my collection, the Flag of 'Peace and Good Will to Man,' — the Flag of Switzer- land," added Doris, with fervor. This did not exhaust the possible excursions from Milan. While the ladies were at the lakes, Mr. Blake and I went to Lodi, 20 miles down the railway toward Bologna. We walked across the bridge that spans the Adda, the scene of Napoleon's personal bravery on May ioth, 1796. The bridge is not the same, stone for stone, but the spot is identical, and the emotions aroused are thrilling. Home of the Lombard Kings 299 ''I once had a conversation at a public dinner with a poet regarding the comparative merits of prose and poetry," said Mr. Blake, as we stood leaning against the parapet. "I had ventured the rather broad and bold as- sertion that nothing had ever been said in verse that The Jolly Wine-cart Driver of Lombardy couldn't have been better said in prose, when a stranger at the dinner-table took issue and exclaimed : "'What nonsense! How would you say, 'On, Stan- ley, on! Charge, Chester, charge?'" "I was nearly 'knocked out,' but Abbott's 'Napoleon,' my delight as a boy, saved me. 'I wouldn't say it,' was my retort. 'I'd work up to a situation like that of Na- poleon on the Bridge at Lodi, and use his words, 'Follow 300 The Destiny of Doris Me !' Can you imagine a halt in the face of an enemy while the commander orders a cavalry charge in poetry?' Of course he couldn't ; and I silenced him, though he was not convinced." "You didn't beg the question, Mr. Blake. You changed the proposition," was my comment. "I know that ; and my opponent doubtless realized it after he reached home, but I apparently won. I don't know what Napoleon said on the spot where we stand, but he did the right thing. He took this bridge !" A steam tram gave us a charming ride to Pavia, where we rambled through its beautiful Cathedral, containing Bonino's sumptuous Area di Sant' Agbstino, adorned with 290 sculptured figures of saints. We returned to Milan in time to attend a special performance at La Scala, rarely opened now-a-days. The old opera house lost its prestige when the monument of Leonardo da Vinci was erected in its small plaza. "That is a great statue," commented Blake, as we strolled past it into the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele to get coffee before going to our hotel. "A pretty idea, — to group around old Leonardo his most famous pupils." Mr. Blake said he had business in Paris. He went by the St. Gothard, across Switzerland, taking the new and delightful Lloyd Express, that leaves Genoa at noon, reaches Milan late in the afternoon, is at Basle (the rail- road clearing-house, or Clapham Junction of Europe) at midnight, and Bremen at 1 o'clock next day — crossing the continent in 25 hours! This "flyer" makes direct connection for Paris and Cherbourg, and is the fastest train from Northern Italy. STATUE OF LEONARDO DA VINCI, WITH FOUR OF HIS GREATEST PUPILS, FRONT- ING LA SCALA THEATRE A FRUIT GROWER IN LOMBARDY, SURROUNDED BY THE PRODUCTS OF A WONDERFULLY PRODUCTIVE BUT ARTIFICIAL AGRICULTURAL LAND LION OF ST. MARK, DOGE S PALACE Chapter Twenty-One The Winged Lion THANK heaven, we came to Venice across this hand-made country of Northern Italy in the open, and not under ground like moles !" said Doris, remembering the smoky tunnels of the Riviera and of Liguria, as she stepped into a gon- dola at the railway terminus on the Grand Canal. Her mother smiled from her seat in the boat : she well knew that the line from Bologna to Florence is quite as sub- terranean as any Doris had encountered. Small steamboats now ply the entire length of the Grand Canal, some going as far as the Lido, or bathing beach, outside the Lagoons; but this watery thorough- fare is so tortuous that it doubles on itself twice in the four miles between the railway station and the Piazza San Marco. A passenger by gondola reaches his desti- nation much quicker because the boatman knows the "short cuts," and takes advantage of them. With the instinct of an oarsman, Miss Wentworth watched the 303 304 The Destiny of Doris man at the back of their gondola, marveled at the ef- fectiveness of the short, awkward stroke, and was espec- ially impressed with the control the gondolier had over his craft. She discovered later that the Venitian boat is like a flattened crescent, and that its contact with the water is comparatively slight. "When about to turn a corner, I notice that the gon- dolier utters a low but sharp call, and the right of way is yielded to him who shouts first," said Doris. "They are 'all in the same business,' like the donkey- drivers at Cairo," explained her mother. "You remem- ber how they'd fight with each other for a customer ; but when you had decided on your mule, the other boys would assist in tightening the girth or lowering the stir- rups for their successful rival." Mrs. Went worth and her daughter were soon installed in a hotel on the Grand Canal, facing the picturesque Gothic pile known as the Church of Santa Maria delle Salute. "Never stay too long at a time in Venice," remarked Mrs. Wentworth. "It is much wiser to leave before the glamour of the life wears off. The moment Venice ceases to be a dream its charm is gone forever. You then smell odors from the canals, and miss the horses and carriages." Venice has a Public Garden at the extreme eastern end of the city that is almost as pretty as the one at Milan. The great place of rendezvous is the Piazza San Marco. Everybody goes there after sundown, and an excellent band plays every night in some part of the square. Dur- THE BEAUTIFUL CHURCH OF SANTA MARIA DELLE SALUTE, AT THE HEAD OF THE GRAND CANAL, NEAR THE CUSTOM HOUSE 306 The Destiny of Doris ing the moonlight season it is the gayest promenade in Europe, and is thronged until midnight. "If I were asked what picture of any in the world I most admired, my choice would be Titian's Assump- tion, that is here in Venice," said Mrs. Wentworth, after an afternoon at the Accademia di Belle Arti. "I say this after seeing every gallery in Europe, and inspecting every picture of importance therein. The magnificence of its coloring excels them all. In its composition, per- spective science is applied equally to lines, figures, and atmosphere. Radiance and gloom are distributed by the highest intuitive art. The joyful innocence of the heav- enly company is beyond realization by our finite minds. It is a glorious, a divine, picture!" "The Academy is very rich in Titian and Tintoretto," I added. "Paolo Veronese is also seen at his best in the remarkable picture, — 'Jesus at the House of Simon the Levite.' Its composition is audacious. He seized upon the Biblical incident to portray a group of his contempora- ries 'in the unfettered enjoyment of existence.' The din- ner is served al fresco at the top of a grand stairway. All his fellow-painters are at the feast, seated at both sides of the board, by which the artist avoids the table d'hote character of Leonardo's 'Last Supper.' The ar- chitecture is Roman, and hardly what would be expected in the dwelling of an assistant to the Jewish priesthood. However, that is a slight matter. Cagliari there paint- ed his own portrait. In a group, at the right, is a face like Napoleon's ; the figure is under-size, and the right hand is thrust into the front of the coat in a manner TITIAN'S "ASSUMPTION OF THE VIRGIN," DE- CLARED TO BE THE MOST WONDERFUL STUDY IN COLOR IN THE WORLD 308 The Destiny of Doris affected by the 'Little Corporal.' The fact that the pic- ture was painted in 1573 renders this likeness curious." The Ghetto is filled with bad odors, but it deserves a forenoon. When the Venetian noblemen became ex- travagant, they borrowed money of the wealthy Jews until they reached a point where they couldn't pay. Then they repudiated their debts and treated their benefactors with harshness. The Jews were forced to live by them- selves in one section of the city, and keepers were set over them. Here their descendants are to-day. Restrictive laws have been abolished, but they cling to their old haunts as barnacles cherish their native rocks. "Now that we are going to the Ghetto," said Doris, who had been reading Mr. Howells, "I want to see Sior Antonio Rioba, the practical joke of Venice; rus- tics are sent with packages to him like American printer- boys for type-grinders." Sior Antonio was discovered after a deal of inquiry and some guiding. He is a rough-hewn statue, set in the corner of a grocer's shop near the Ghetto. He had a pack on his back, and was dishonored by having mud thrown in his face while we stood in his presence. It is fortunate that he is inanimate ; for he leads a harsh life. On the way back to the Piazza San Marco afoot, Doris gave a beggar some money. "Why did you do that, Doris ?" demanded her mother. "Because, the poor fellow had only one arm. How can he make his wants known? No one-armed Italian can speak this language ; he needs both hands." We never grew tired of Saint Mark's, owing to the Oriental magnificence of its decorations. It is a jewel HOUSE OF DESDEMONA, ON THE GRAND CANAL, RECENT- LY OCCUPIED BY SIGNORA DUSE : STRAWBERRY-CREAM IN COLOR: A FINE BIT OF VENETIAN ARCHITECTURE 3io The Destiny of Doris of a church. Mr. Ruskin has gone into the subject so thoroughly that little more can be said. The charm of the interior consists in the noble perspectives and the splendor of the decorations. The four bronze horses that probably adorned the triumphal arch of Nero at Rome but are now over the entrance to the church, need repairing. Two of them appear to have been in the bull-ring and to have been severely gored. Those horses have been great travelers. Constantine sent them to Constantinople, and Napoleon took them to Paris. A climb to the top of the isolated bell-tower, by a winding inclined plain of 38 bends, was easy. "How small and compact this city is !" exclaimed Doris, when we stood in the lofty gallery. "But notice how the red-tiled roofs are relieved by the verdure of small gardens everywhere," I pointed out. "One wouldn't think so many green places possible." "Those must be the Alps to the northward. And I ac- tually believe I can see land on the other side of the Adri- atic," said Doris. "Yes, those are the Istrian Mountains that rise out the sea," I explained. "That's a very different country from Italy over there." "The sight of those mountains impresses me as did the wild, rocky coast of Crete, where dwells a strange people, indifferent to the rest of the world," said Doris. The ladies were voluble in their comments upon the Palace of the Doges. Its curiosities are : a map that Columbus carried on his first voyage (or one just as good), the collection of Cameos, and the dungeons un- der the palace. FACADE OF ST. MARC'S AND DOGE'S PALACE : WINCED LION ATOP THE COLUMN AT THE LANDINC: BRONZE HORSES OVER CHURCH DOORWAY 312 The Destiny of Doris "Here is a chance for a discussion of the question of environment," said Mrs. Wentworth, as we entered the cell in which Lord Byron had passed a night while com- posing his Venetian tragedy under the belief that Mari- ano Faliero had been immured there before his beheading. But modern investigation has utterly disproved the pres- ence in this prison of any distinguished malefactors : it was for thieves and murderers. Now, the question is, Did the poet have true emotions when he was at the wrong place ? The cell is as Byron left it. He had a platform of heavy boards upon which to rest, but he was without any light, and he made what notes he wanted in the dark. He must have passed a gloomy night. ■a - fcHK . B^; TvB E£ ■ ^ yi «w f. -' -?• ■"**" ■"'~T ''Jp^sSjwBtrfTj iT^ja ■ BQQ5 ^ — ■ — ^ *> ■T |> . y| gitai| ^ r^B^ THE CITY OF " ROMOLA " ; TOWER OF THE PALAZZO VECCHIO, IN THE CENTER Chapter Twenty-two Older than Rome THE first thing to do when you reach Florence, if it be yet day, is to take a tram-car to the heights of San Miniato and study "the glorious capital of Tuscany," spread at your feet. It differs from the view of Genoa that we enjoyed so much, and the never-to-be-forgotten Monaco, with its blue sea, and its wealth of roses, and wilderness of rocks. Florence is in a deeper basin than Paris, and the river that divides it runs a straighter course. The surround- ing mountain-sides are given color by the countless houses of yellow and pink that peep from the verdure every- where. We haven't seen anything just like that view. Beyond the first range of hills at Rome, lies a wilderness ; the charming plain of Granada is a tract of farming-land ; Naples plunges down the mountain-side into the sea; outside the walls of Milan are vineyards and swampy rice-fields ; the only view of Venice is from the campan- ile of St. Mark, at which vantage-point oven the canals —the glory of the city— disappear. 3i3 314 The Destiny of Doris At Florence, from any fine prospect, you enjoy a farandole of Nature. She is aglee, and little imagination is required to see nymphs dancing under the trees. From San Miniato you can single out the ancient terraces of Fiesole, the first Florence, which was old before Romulus ploughed the furrow in which his walls were to rise. When you look up that valley to the little town at its head, it is easy to remember that architects went from there to build Rome, and statesmen to frame her laws. Don't forget, also, this same Fiesole and Rome were bit- ter rivals 500 years before Christ ! Then come down to the thirteenth century, and as you single out what is left of the Via dei Bardi, the Ponte alle Grazie, the Piazza Santa Trinita, — where still stands the Buondelmonte Palace (whose owner began the two hundred years' war of the Guelphs and Ghibellines), — the Piazzas Santa Feli- cita and Dei Mozzi, and the Vias della Morte and dei Cerchi, imagine them peopled with the sturdy burghers, who knew how to hate as well as to make love ; who were rare artists in wood, bronze, and silver, but could handle a sword with the same ease as the sharp tools of their guilds. Peering down into these narrow streets, the fluttering bits of color you see are like those caused by the passage of mounted cavaliers en route to a tourna- ment. Cast your eyes in the direction of the new center of town, the Piazza Vittorio Emanuele, and you behold acres of the old palaces coming down to make room for the Florence of the twentieth century. This is the good work that Ouida so unjustly condemns in "A Winter City." The beautiful arch and facade facing this square FLORENCE FROM THE HEIGHTS OF SAN MINIATO. SHOWING ALL THE FAMILIAR OBJECTS, INCLUDING THE OLD COVERED BRIDGE CONNECTING THE UFIZZI AND PITTI PALACES 3 16 The Destiny of Doris was dedicated in 1895, but the broad streets that enter the piazza are an earnest of what will follow. The square nearby with the Ufizzi and Vecchio Palaces at one corner, and that shiver-provoking red-copper tablet to mark the place where Savanarola was burned, and the recently scrubbed Duomo in another open space not far away, have not yet felt the throb of new life. But it is more difficult to transport the mind into the past in Flor- ence than at Rome, because so much that is new confronts you everywhere. The objects that most stimulate mem- ory are gathered in galleries and shown at a price. The expense that history has entailed upon the Florentine shopkeepers must be enormous, and nobody can blame them for asking a living from the visitors that come here to write diaries that are as gorged with emotions as school girls' pen-wipers. Every traveler in Italy should find stamped on his ticket, in language that he could read, "If you cannot stop a week in Florence, don't get off the train." Such was the opinion of the Wentworths. "We made a sturdy effort to master the twin-galler- ies of the Pitti and Ufizzi Palaces," said Mrs.Wentworth. "Doris and I gave a week's hard work to them and the monastery of San Marco, where dear Fra Angelico spread his heart upon the walls of his own cell and those of his Dominican brothers. I wondered why the good friar, with artistic tastes, had always placed his divine frescoes in the darkest corner of each cell; but I com- prehended when a guide brought a reflector, by means of which the light could be thrown from the window upon the picture. Of course, this cost a lira, but what TWO ROMAN BOYS SINGING IN THE STREETS OF FLORENCE: THEIR CLASSIC FACES MARK THEM AS STRANGERS IN TUSCANY 318 The Destiny of Doris is base money compared to the pleasure those pictures gave me. They were to me as comforting as prayer itself." "If I remember San Marco's cloister," I ventured to say, "it was a rather cheerful place. I think I could have made myself quite comfortable there. The garden upon which the windows of the cells look is pretty and has a fine cedar in its center; indeed, the flowers out- side and the pictures within quite suffice to please the eye and occupy the mind. The retreat of the Cardinal di Medici did not possess, to me, the atmosphere of sanctity that I found in the cell of poor Savonarola." "His death at the stake was one of the great crimes of history, like the burning of the little Maid of Or- leans," added Mrs. Wentworth, with a sigh that had clung to her throat ever since a day in Rouen, when she had visited the scene of that shepherdess' death. "At the Florentine hotels, I notice the head-waiter gravely tastes the wine in our presence before he offers it to us," said Doris. "A remarkable instance of the survival of a custom that once possessed much significance," answered Mrs. Wentworth. "In the clays of the Cerchi-and-Donati- feud, and throughout the long war of the Guelphs and Ghibellines that followed, the household butler always took the first drink out of every flagon of wine served, and then passed it to his master. There was a lot of very dangerous grape-juice in the market at that time: poisoning the wine was a favorite method of getting rid of enemies. A remark by the head of the House of Cerchi to his brother-in-law, Corso Donati, was the cause WONDERFUL BYZANTINE CHURCH AT PADUA; QUAINTLY GRACEFUL. BUT LACKINC THE EM- BELLISHMENTS OF ST. MARC'S VENICE 320 The Destiny of Doris of their feud. Donati was suspected of having- poisoned his wife, a sister of Vieri Cerchi. One day, the latter was supping with the former, and the butler, according to custom, tasted the wine before serving it. 'You didn't take that precaution when you gave my sister her wine,' muttered Vieri to Corso ; and, from that moment, mortal hatred began. Corso was like people I know ; he could- n't take a joke." "That may explain why the waiters taste the wine be- fore serving,'' replied Doris ; "but it doesn't account for the water that gets into our bottles when we leave an unfinished flagon. If they are sure our wine is all right, why do they drink so much of it between meals and sup- ply the deficiency with water?" Two incidents of the trip from Venice to Florence are not to be overlooked. One was a half day's stop at Padua, the other, the crossing of the mighty river Po. That stream occupies so small a place on the map that one ex- periences genuine surprise at its breadth and volume. At Padua is the Byzantine Church of Santa Giustina ; its por- tal of black, red and white marbles, its square pilasters, its projecting entablatures, its Roman capitals and, over all, its bulging Arabic domes, give it quaintness and pom- posity. It is impossible to gaze at that edifice without smiling. It is an architectural monstrosity, but not an offence to the eye. The interior is aglow with color. Veronese left a host of baby angels hovering round the patron saint of the church. Imitators of Bernini did the other decorations and did them badly. We saw the nar- row cell in which the Saint passed five years, and from which she passed to heaven by a blessed martyrdom. FAMOUS STAIRWAY OF THE PODESTA. EVERY STEP HAS RUN WITH BLOOD; ITS TRIUMPHAL ARCH IS ONE OF THE BEAUTIES AND ECCENTRICITIES OF ITALIAN ART 322 The Destiny of Doris The coffin of St. Luke is there, and it looked as genuine as had those of Ferdinand and Isabella at Granada. The horror of horrors of all Italy exists at Padua, known as the torture-rooms of the demoniacal monster Ecelino, a thirteenth century ruler of Verona, Vicenza, Padua and Brescia. His cruelties finally became unen- durable, and the Church proclaimed a crusade against him. The peasants rose and a farmer killed him with a scythe. In a dreary dungeon we saw an upright box in which was the skeleton of a victim. Two apertures enabled the condemned to see a table, just out of reach, filled with food and drink — to-day it is stage food and the wine is colored water, but the realism is intense. The climax of shudders was reached when we came to a block in the centre of a square apartment. Nailed to the wood and severed midway between the wrist and elbow, lay the dainty hand of a woman, just as it had been chopped from the living arm ! The cell resounded with the shrieks of the terrified woman, and though the hand we saw was of wax, the feelings it produced were the most dreadful of the day. Where were the Portias of Ecelino's day? They were needed in Padua. A social organization exists in Florence composed of remote descendants of the noblemen created by Charle- magne. Its members assemble once a year in the Court of the Palazzo Pretorio, attired in the costumes of their ancestors, and, ascending the historic stairway to the Hall of the Podesta, they renew their oaths of personal loyalty. Our picture shows such a group, gathered un- der the triumphal arch, half-way up the staircase. "The building now occupied by the National Museum Older than Rome 323 is one of the most interesting in Florentine history," said Mrs. Wentworth. "It was the seat of the Podesta, an official who embellishes all Florentine tales of the time of the Repub- lic. He was mayor and court of last re- sort, a 1 w a y s ap- pointed from a dis- tant part of the country, so that he would not have any alliances to w a r p his judgment. He lived in the Bar- gello, or State prison, probably for his own safety. When he presided, a page in b 1 u e. holding a drawn sword, stood be- hind his chair. The stairway leading to the court-room was often the scene of bloody contests between citizens dissatisfied with the decisions." And don't forget that Florence is the city of David, — Michael Angelo's inspired creation. Monks PICTURESQUE ISLET IN LAKE MAGGIORE Chapter Tiuenty-three A Quatrain of Destiny WE enjoyed every moment of our fifteenth- century existence at the Tuscany capital. When the morning arrived on which we were to have returned to Genoa, Mrs. Went worth informed me significantly of a change in her plans ; she and Doris had decided to return to Milan, instead of Genoa ! I was perplexed, and was about to say that I would proceed to Genoa and complete the ar- rangements for our departure to New York, when I was invited to form one of the party to Milan. My face evinced hesitation and surprise. Seeing this, Mrs. Wentworth said, "I want you to be present at the marriage of my daughter to Mr. Blake, to-morrow. It is sooner than I would have wished, but Vernon is impatient. He can extend his vacation now, but would not be able to ab- sent himself later in the year." 324 A Quatrain of Destiny 325 "I am delighted!" I exclaimed. '"Why should they wait? Of course I'll go." Mrs. Went worth then told me that a hurry-order had been given for the trousseau on the first visit to Milan. The young people were to start immediately after the ceremony to Bellagio, on Lake Como, where Mr. Blake had leased a pretty villa. Although overjoyed, because the event brought me nearer to my happiness, I was unprepared for so sudden a termination of this love match. " 'Happy is the wooing that's not long doing,' " said I, quoting an adage of the North Country. "Marriage is her destiny," answered the mother, with a sigh. "I must have lost her, ultimately." After leaving Bologna, the trip in the train de luxe between Florence and the Lombardy capital was delight- ful. Under one pretext or another, I left the two ladies together as much as possible, seeking the smoking-com- partment as often as I could summon sufficient courage to consume an Italian cigar. Miss Wentworth was preoccupied, and had lost much of her characteristic vivacity. She was in a more thoughtful mood than I had yet observed. Neither the latest novels nor the scenery of the garden-part of Italy interested her. The Alhambra-bell had fulfilled its mission. It had brought the maid a man ! Our wanderings had not contained a dull moment, and the approaching termination filled me with an overpow- ering sense of regret. Dr. Johnson called attention to this phase of the human mind in the last of his "Idler" 326 The Destiny of Doris papers. Exactly as he laid clown his pen with reluctance, did I contemplate the end of this delightful companion- ship. Recalling our wanderings in Spain, in Africa, in Syria, and in Italy, Mrs. Wentworth and I agreed that no place of supreme importance had been overlooked. "What a common thing for people who have never traveled to dismiss so interesting a trip as ours with the impudent comment that we 'have hurried over the ground too rapidly,' " said Mrs. Wentworth, thoughtfully, as we sat together in a corner of the compartment. "The ca- pacity to enjoy what we see when traveling depends so largely on mental preparation for the journey that one person is not competent to judge whether or not an- other has made the most of his or her opportunities — has seen much or little. For example, the stranger who goes to Rome unacquainted with the tragedies and comedies of its history, with its art, literature, and religion, has much to learn before he can begin properly to esteem what he sees. He is unprepared for the journey." "Yours is a complete answer to that class of critics who dawdle away their time in a city like Paris, or who go abroad to study what they should have learned during their school-days. Some travelers don't know the dif- ference between the four voyages of Columbus and the seven voyages of Sinbad the Sailor! The person who insists that Rome cannot be comprehensively studied in a month, would probably need a year's kindergarten in- struction in the history of the city, the Republic, and the Empire." "My Biblical knowledge was of the greatest use to me during our stay in Palestine," added Mrs. Wentworth. SCENE IN THE "HAND-MADE" LANDS OF NORTHERN ITALY, NEAR VERONA; BRICK COLUMNS, TO SUPPORT A TRELLIS, ARE COVERED WITH STUCCO 328 The Destiny of Doris "I instinctively sought places mentioned in the Book. Indeed, I almost felt that I'd been to Jerusalem before." "Preparation for a trip like ours should precede, not accompany, it," was my comment. "Exactly what I mean. A visit to Egypt should be anticipated by six months' reading of Rawlinson, Erman, Lane, Ebers, Wiedemann, Wilkinson, Muir, Maspero, Curtis, Edwards, Stuart, Wilson, Kingsley, and Milner, not to omit 'The Thousand Nights and One Night.' It is difficult to believe before leaving home how much intelligent enjoyment can be compressed into a four months' trip like ours. We have traveled when we pleased ; have seen exactly what we wanted to see. We haven't wasted our time, but have combined pleasure with mental development. Another feature that has ap- pealed to me, is the moderate expense at which all this enjoyment has been secured." "Very true," I replied. "A rough estimate of my expenses is within a thousand dollars. Omitting my trip into Nubia, eight hundred dollars would have been ample. Tell me where, in the whole range of human ex- perience, so much intelligent pleasure can be found for, so little money ? Of course, I include in this my pro- spective ten days' delightful sea-voyage from Genoa or Naples to New York. Seeking a phrase that might best describe our holiday, I'd say, 'The Trip of a Thousand, for a Thousand !' " "That's a practical and an inviting view," said Mrs. Wentworth. "I couldn't have kept my house going with the amount that Doris and I have spent since we left home." TYPE OF THE SOUDANESE WOMAN SEEN AT WADI- HALFA : THE FACE WAS SLASHED IN CHILDHOOD, BY THE MOTHER, TO WARD OFF THE EVIL EYE 330 The Destiny of Doris "You haven't been a recluse, by any means," I re- joined, "but have lived in the sunshine of history, and reviewed the majesty of mankind. What a charming fad that is of Doris' to secure a small silk flag in each country she visits !" "The ensign of a nation is the prettiest trophy you can bring home from it," replied Mrs. Wentworth. "I have interested a shop-keeper on the eastern side of the Gal- leria Vittorio Emanuele at Milan in the hobby, and he will hereafter keep in stock the colors of all European nations." "Let me think? How many flags will Doris have when she gets home?" "Eleven," was the reply. "Leaving New York under the black, white, and red flag of Germany, she passed under the white emblem of the Azores ; then the Union Tack at Gibraltar, the red and yellow standard of Spain at Granada, the blood-red symbol of Morocco at Tangier, the beautiful green, white, and red emblem of United Italy at Naples, Egypt's magenta standard, with its three crescents, at Cairo, the red burgee crescent and star of Turkey at Jerusalem, the "tricolor" of France at Mentone, the device of the Prince of Monaco at Monte Carlo, and now the cross of Switzerland." "Have you noticed passports were not needed where we have traveled?" I asked. "The nations of the earth are no longer suspicious of one another." When we stepped off the train at Milan, Blake was there to meet us. We formed a very jolly party at the Cavour that afternoon and evening. BELLAGIO, LAKE COMO, WHERE VERNON AND DORIS PASSED THEIR HONEYMOON: A VISION LIKE THOSE SEEN IN DREAMS: UNLIKE ANY VILLAGE ON EARTH 332 The Destiny of Doris Next day, at ten o'clock, we were driven to the Eng- lish Church of All Saints, on the Via Solferino, where the simple but impressive service of the Church of Eng- land was performed. A dainty wedding-breakfast followed, after which we drove with Mr. and Mrs. Blake to the train that was to take them to Como, where a steam yacht that Blake had hired, would carry them to Bellagio. Mrs. Wentworth and I drove back to her hotel. A feeling of embarrassment, unknown till that moment, overcame us. We realized that the situation had been changed by the departure of Doris, and that we could no longer be fellow-travelers. Mrs. Wentworth, with ad- mirable tact, announced that she would leave for Genoa in the afternoon. The drive to the railway station was far too brief ; but before it was finished I had determined to persuade Louise to marry me then and there. I believe she read my mind, because she was almost precipitate in taking her ticket and hurrying her luggage into the train. Af- ter seeing her comfortably placed, I wired the interpreter of her hotel to meet her. The night that followed was one of the most memor- able in my existence. Most of it was spent afoot, ramb- ling aimlessly about the old city, in solitary communion with my thoughts. Like a restless wraith, I hovered about the crowded Galleria Vittorio Emanuele and the deserted piazza fronting the Cathedral. Before seeking my hotel, I resolved to take the earliest morning train to Genoa. Noon had struck when I reached the Ligurian capital. A CROUP OF FISHER-PEOPLE AT BOR- DIGHERA: THIS RESORT IS THE SCENE OF "DR. ANTONIO" 334 The Destiny of Doris My impatience made the journey tedious. Seeking a small hotel facing the station, I hurried a commission- aire with a note to Mrs. Wentworth, inviting her to lunch- eon at the Righi. Choosing a carriage at the Columbus statue, I drove to her hotel and thence to the Piazza Zecca, where a funicolari bore us to the Heights of Castellaccio, 1,250 feet above the sea. On the broad veranda and across the luncheon table, we decided our destiny. "I do not have to tell you, dear, the wish nearest my heart," I began. "You can read in my eyes the love I feel for you. We have known each other since childhood and although I passed out of your, life for a while, the last four months have brought us nearer together than ever before. Have I not regained my place in your heart? Why shouldn't we be married at once?" "Don't you think it would be in better taste to return to America, where, if you still feel inclined, we might consider our marriage?" "No," I replied, with emphasis. "We have temporized long enough. I didn't find fault with your maternal solicitude for your daughter's future ; that was natural and proper ; but she is now a happy wife, and no excuse exists for delaying our union." "Frankly, I have no wish to delay it," she replied, her eyes beaming with affection. "Glorious! We shall be married this afternoon at the American Consulate," I insisted. "We can pass our honeymoon on the Riviera or at sea, whichever you pre- fer. I will secure a cottage at Bar Harbor by cable, to- LAKE FRONT, BELLAGIO, WITH THE ITAL- IAN HILLS IN THE BACKGROUND: LOOKING SOUTHWARD TOWARD COMO 336 The Destiny of Doris day, where Vernon and Doris can join us at the end of their stay at Bellagio." "I favor the homeward flight," said she. "So do I. 'Yerga!' We shall return !" "The beauties of the Mediterranean and the southern route across the Atlantic through the Azores appeal to me," she temporized. "Rather let us go to our American home, at once," I persisted. "We can take the Lloyd Express to-morrow noon, by way of the St. Gothard ; I'll call Vernon and Doris on the telephone and ask them to meet us at Como station to say an revoir. We shall be in Paris Saturday night, and shall catch the Kronprinz Wilhelm at Cher- bourg the next day." "But what will our children think?" she laughingly rejoined. "Oh, hang the children ! Happiness wasn't made for them alone. Take pity on me !" "You poor neglected fellow, I'll have to humor you." And so we were married g?> UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. Form L9-50m-7, '54(5990)444 DSU8 Chambers - C3pd The destiny of Doris DSU8 C35d UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY AA 000 745 785 6 >?•-'