wo or three times over his face, making with her hands a
motion, as though sprinkling a fluid over him. As she did so, the
youth's lips slightly opened, and something like a faint smile seemed to
settle on his features. Bending down she laid her ear close to his lips,
like one listening: she waited a few seconds, and then, in a voice that
slightly trembled, with a thrill of joyous emotion, she whispered out--

'You have not, then, forgotten, _Gherardi mio_; those happy hours still
live within your memory.'

The sleeper's mouth moved without a sound, but she seemed to gather the
meaning of the motion: as, after a brief pause, she said: 'And the well
under the old myrtle-tree at San Domino: hast forgotten _that_? True
enough,' added she, as if replying; 'it seems like an age since we
walked that mountain road together; but we will stroll there again, dear
brother: nay, start not, thou knowest well why I call thee so. And
we will wander along the little stream under the old walls of Massa,
beneath the orange-trees; and listen to the cicala in the hot noon, and
catch glimpses of the blue sea through the olives. Happier days! that
they were. No, no, child,' cried she eagerly; 'thou art not of a mould
for such an enterprise; besides, they would but entrap thee--there is no
honesty in these men. He that we have lost--he that has left us--might
have guided you in this difficult path; but there is not another like
him. There are plants that only flower once in a whole century, and so
with humanity; great genius only visits the earth after long intervals
of years. What is it?' broke she in hurriedly; 'thou seest something;
tell me of it?' With an intense eagerness she now seemed to drink in
something that his silent lips revealed, a sort of impatient anxiety
urging her, as she said, 'And then, and then; yes! a wild dreary waste
without a tree; but thou knowest not where--and a light in an old tower
high up--yes! watching for thee; they have expected thee; go on. Ah!
thou hast arrived there at last; with what honour they receive thee;
they fill the hall. No, no, do not let him kneel; thou art right, he is
an old, old man. That was a mild cheer, and see how the tears run down
his cheeks; they are, indeed, glad to see thee, then. What now,' cried
she hurriedly; 'thou wilt not go on, and why? Tell me, then, why,
_Gherardi mio_ cried she, in an accent of deep feeling; _is it that
peril scares thee? Thou a Prince, and not willing to pa