A Siren

linare i

nothing at all to cause remark in his thus retiring before the evening. He never danced;-he happened not to be playing cards on that even

s face with his hand, yet not so as to prevent him from seeing every movement of the persons, and every expression of the faces of the couple he was watching. There was a raging hell in his

and walk steadily. Presently, however, when Ludovico and Bianca had again quitted the ball-room together

nother servant, as soon as he was gone, that he would bet tha

t ready. Her maid came down to the door with all sorts of apologies, and assurances that her mistress would be ready in a few minutes. The few minutes, however, became half an h

e of the very extraordinary and unique series of mosaics which exist in the old imperial city. She had brought with her a letter of introduction from her employer to the Marchese Lamberto,-a circumstance which had led to a degree of intimacy between the Marchesino Ludovico

iously and successfully completed the greater portion of her task in the churches within the city, she had determined to make her first visit to the strange old Basilica of St. Apollinare in Classe, on that same Ash Wednesday morning.

lso had calculated that on such a morning she should be little likely to meet anybody. It was just about six o'clock when Paolina started on her proposed walk

rs-mainly the Po-have brought from distant mountains, and deposited in the bed of the Adriatic since the old church was built "in Classe,"-where the fleet once used to be moored. The building thus stands nearly at the edge of the forest, hardly more than a stone's throw from the furthest advanced sentinels of the wood. The road coming out from the c

g touches to the charming morning toilette which replaced the gorgeous Venetian costume she had taken off, the bagarino which carried her and Ludovico would infal

was utterly empty, and she took courage. The first human beings she saw on her way were the octroi officers at the gate. They sat apparently half asl

equally deserted; and Paolina, braced by the morning a

es cease, and there are no more hedge-rows. Large flat fields, imperfectly covered with coarse rank grass, and divided by the numerous branches of streams, all more or less diked to save the land from complete inundation, succeed. The road is a causeway raised above

imple, too bad even to be turned into rice grounds,-or rather simply swamps impure; for a stench at most times of the year comes from them, like a warning of their pestilential nature, and their unfitness for the sojourn of man. A few sh

ld, though a bleak wind was blowing across the marshes. She was warmed by walking; but the aspe

n the horizon to the left. The road quickly draws nearer to it; and the large, heavy, velvet-like masses of dark verdure become visible. In a forest such as the famous Pineta, consisting of the maritime pine only, the lines

onely structure heaving its huge long back against the low horizon, like some monster antidiluvian sa

ep through the crisp morning air, no little awed by the dreary, voiceless d

he year; and when she stood before the western door of the ancient church, in front of which the road passes, Ludov

e at the huge doorway of the Basilica of St. Apollinare in Classe is so. The general character of the country around it has been described. But the church itself is the most dreary and melancholy feature in the landscape. No desolation resulting solely from the operations of Nature, even in her least kindly mood, can ever suffice to speak to the imagination as the change and decay of the works of man's hand speak. To produce the effect of de

y are too far gone in ruin and decay to speak with so living a voice of sadness as does this old Byzantine church. The human element is at Paestum too far away,-too utterly dead and forgotten. In St. Apollinare

ent to that of the Basilica. They are nearly ruinous, but are still-or were till within a few years-inhabited by one Capucin friar, and one la

old friars, to whom the keeping of the building is committed, to move them. But a poor and mean low gate of iron rails has been fitted to the colossal marble door-posts, which suffices to prevent the wandering cattle of the

looked into the church, but could see no human being. Within, as without, all was utter death-like silence. She shivered, and drew her cloak more closely round her, as she stood at the gate; for the healthy blood was runn

ed at the utter solitude, and awed by the vast gloomy grandeur of