So far from being his "inferior," woman was appointed the instructress of man, and designed by the Creator to mould and educate his moral nature.
We have said our fair travellers gazed with admiration at the fine person of the brigand—for "brigand" we must unwillingly confess their deliverer to be—and as they gazed, the younger members of the party, it may be acknowledged, imported into their glance a little more gratitude than the absent lovers, Attilio and Muzio, would perhaps have wished. But admiration gave place to surprise, when the brigand, taking Silvia's hand, kissed it, with tears, saying-
"You do not remember me, Signora? Look at my left eye: had it not been for your maternal care, the accident to it would have cost me my life."
"Orazio! Orazio!" cried the matron, embracing him. "Yes, it is indeed the son of my old friend."
"Yes, I am Orazio, whom you received in a dying condition, and nursed back to life; the poor orphan whom you nourished and fed when left in absolute need," he replied, as he returned her embrace tenderly.
After exchanging these words of recognition, and receiving others of ardent gratitude from the party, Orazio explained how he had been hunting in the neighborhood, when he saw the attack, and came to do what he could for the ladies. He advised Manlio to put them into the carriage again, and depart with all speed; "for," said he, "two of these bandits have escaped, and may possibly return with several of their band." Then, ascertaining the name of the port from which they intended sailing, he offered to become their charioteer, and, mounting the box, drove off rapidly in the direction of Porto d'Anzo.
Arrived there without further adventure, the freshness of the sea air seemed to put new life and spirits into our jaded travellers, and the effect upon the beautiful Julia in particular was perfectly marvellous. A daughter of the Queen of the Ocean, she, like almost all her children, was enamored of the sea, and pined for it when at a distance.
The sons of Britain scent the salt air wherever they live; they are islanders with the ocean always near. They can understand the feeling of Xenophon's 1000 Greeks, when they again beheld the ocean after their long and dangerous Anabasis, and how they fell upon their knees, with joyful shouts of "Thalassa! Thalassa!" and saluted the green and silver Amphitrite as their mother, friend, and tutelary divinity.