The bridal of the earth and sky,
The dew shall weep thy fall to-night
For thou must die."
And so the land vanished from view, and we were alone on the deck on one of those calm and beautiful nights which naturally dispose the mind to meditation. The stars, sparkling like gems of silver on the brow of night, were reflected in the transparent waters of the Mediterranean, where they flashed like jewels in the dark tresses of an Eastern maiden. Lines of phosphoric light marked our course as the prow of the ship cut through the sapphire sea, and were reflected, as it were, in the depths of the heavenly ocean above by the broad opal zone of the milky way, which gleamed with inconceivable lustre.
This is all very fine when the weather is fair and the sea calm; but it is very difficult to be romantic when suffering from sea-sickness, and there was no knowing how painfully prosy we might become ere the two hundred miles of sea, which we had to traverse before we could reach our destination, were passed. At the outset of this little voyage, we could well imagine "the exemplary youth" in the story books asking all sorts of appropriate questions, thus:—
"And so, sir, this is the Mediterranean?" the young Arthur might be supposed to say to his aged tutor.
"Yes, my boy," that learned man might reply, with tears in his eyes at the thought that all his care and solicitude for his pupil should at last be so well repaid by this instance of precocious intelligence, showing that the seed he had sown had borne ample fruit. "Yes, my boy, this indeed is that tideless and lovely sea which has ever presented a problem to the man of science, and a subject for the poet's verse."
But in about four hours after our departure, neither the exemplary youth nor the aged tutor would have been in any very eager mood for edifying question and instructive answer. A howling gale came on, and people, becoming perfectly green in the face, arose one by one from the supper table in a manner they had assumed as remarkably easy and graceful, assuring everybody that they never felt better in their lives, and then disappeared entirely from the vision of their fellow-travellers, and in most cases fellow-sufferers. One old lady, indeed, looked as if she were going to say every moment,—
"I think, captain, as the ship is so very unsteady I would rather get out."