oyage! alas for crew! alas for company! alas for the friends of
Margaret! The fever proved to be confluent small-pox, in the most
malignant form. The good commander had received his release from
earthly duty. The _Elizabeth_ must lose her guardian. With calm
con-[Transcriber's note: A word appears to be missing here.]
authorities refused permission for any one to land, and directed that
the burial should be made at sea. As the news spread through the port,
the ships dropped their flags half-mast, and at sunset, towed by the
boat of a neighboring frigate, the crew of the _Elizabeth_ bore the
body of their late chief, wrapped in the flag of his nation, to its
rest in deep water. Golden twilight flooded the western sky, and
shadows of high-piled clouds lay purple on the broad Atlantic. In that
calm, summer sunset funeral, what eye foresaw the morning of horror,
of which it was the sad forerunner?

At Gibraltar, they were detained a week by adverse winds, but, on the
9th of June, set sail again. The second day after, Angelino sickened
with the dreadful malady, and soon became so ill, that his life was
despaired of. His eyes were closed, his head and face swollen out of
shape, his body covered with eruption. Though inexperienced in the
disease, the parents wisely treated their boy with cooling drinks, and
wet applications to the skin; under their incessant care, the fever
abated, and, to their unspeakable joy, he rapidly recovered. Sobered
and saddened, they could again hope, and enjoy the beauty of the calm
sky and sea. Once more Nino laughs, as he splashes in his morning
bath, and playfully prolongs the meal, which the careful father has
prepared with his own hand, or, if he has been angered, rests his head
upon his mother's breast, while his palm is pressed against her cheek,
as, bending down, she sings to him; once more, he sits among his toys,
or fondles and plays with the white-haired goat, or walks up and down
in the arms of the steward, who has a boy of just his age, at home,
now waiting to embrace him; or among the sailors, with whom he is a
universal favorite, prattles in baby dialect as he tries to imitate
their cry, to work the pumps, and pull the ropes. Ossoli and Sumner,
meanwhile, exchange alternate lessons in Italian and English. And
Margaret, among her papers, gives the last touches to her book on
Italy, or with words of hope and love comforts like a mother the
heart-broken widow. Slowly, yet peacefully, pas