The next morning Kit settled himself in his father’s armchair by the window, with a big volume in his hands.
“It’s a good thing father bought this set of cyclopædias,” he said, “for I think it will give me just the information I want. Our next voyage is to be to Marseilles (did I tell you last evening?), and I want to find out something about the place. You’ve no idea what a help it is in going to a new city to read everything you can find about it beforehand. All the way over to London, when I had any spare time, I read the Captain’s books about it and studied the maps, and by the time I got there I knew a great deal about it.”
“Harry Leonard must have been a great help to you there,” Vieve suggested slyly; “he says he showed you around so much.”
“Does he?” Kit laughed. “That’s just like Harry! He makes a very good cabin boy, but he hasn’t quite got over his boasting habit yet. The only visit he made to London was when I got leave for him one day and took him for a trip on the underground railway. We took the wrong train, too, by the way, and went about fifteen miles round to get a mile across town. But let’s see about this place in France. M-a-r; here we are—‘Marseilles, the third city of France, population about four hundred and fifty thousand. Well situated in a valley on the shore of the Mediterranean. Chief city of the Department of Bouches-du-Rhone. Marseilles is one of the oldest cities in Europe, having been founded about 600 B.C.’
“Think of that, mother! This place I am going to was founded six hundred years before the time of our Saviour!
“‘The first settlement,’” he continued to read, “‘is usually ascribed to the Phœnicians. Lazarus is said to have been one of the early bishops of Marseilles, and a skull purporting to be his is still preserved in a portion of the original church in which Lazarus preached. Aside from this, the most remarkable building in Marseilles is the church of Notre-Dame-de-la-Garde, which, standing on the summit of a high hill, is church and fort combined, and is reached by hydraulic elevators. Marseilles is the scene of the principal part of Alexander Dumas’ remarkable story of the “Count of Monte Cristo.” The Castle d’If, in which Monte Cristo was confined in a dungeon for fourteen years, stands on a rocky islet in the harbor, and is still in a good state of preservation. The chief articles of commerce are olive-oil, figs, dates, almonds, and wine. Marseilles is one of the principal ports of the Mediterranean, from thirty to fifty vessels entering or leaving daily. The Peninsular and Oriental steamers call here on their way to and from India and Australia.’
“I tell you there’s going to be something to see, in a place like that!” Kit exclaimed, as he closed the book. “Six hundred years before those things happened that we read about in the New Testament! A fellow can hardly get that into his head. I hope I’ll have a chance to see that church on the hill, that’s both church and fort. And Lazarus! That’s going it a little strong, it seems to me; I don’t remember reading anything in the Bible about Lazarus being a bishop. But I should like to see that old church.”
“Oh, I wish they had ‘cabin girls’ on ships!” Vieve declared; “I’d like to go and see these queer places the way you do. Girls never have a chance to see anything.”
“They’re a very lucky lot,” Kit answered. “They only have to stay at home and be comfortable, while their fathers and brothers go away to work for them.”
“Now, children, I’ll have to punish you both if you begin to quarrel,” Mrs. Silburn laughed. “The most important thing is when you will be back from this next voyage, Kit; and that you haven’t told us yet.”