f his apostacy, was now
leading a life of privation and misery.

Deep and fervent were now the monk's prayers to heaven; he implored
forgiveness for his brother, and offered penance for him. Poor man! he
thought if he could but see him and talk to him, he would redeem him
from his apostacy; but, alas! his duty was in Hurdwar, he was bound
there and could not move. One day (it was during the fair) he had
wandered at a distance from the river, that he might not witness the
delusions of Paganism, and his mind was intensely absorbed in prayer.
Anon, unusual sounds broke on his ears; sounds well known, sounds
reminding him of his country, of his beautiful Italy. They came from a
little bower ten steps before him; and as past scenes rushed to his
memory, his heart beat tremulously in his bosom; the monk recognised a
barcarole which he had often sung in his younger days; but although the
air was lively, the voice which sung it was mournful and sad. Stepping
noiselessly, he stood at the entrance of the bower. The stranger
started and arose! Their separation had been a long one, but neither
the furrowed cheeks and sallow complexion of the one, nor the turbaned
head of the other, could deceive them; and the two brothers fell in each
other's arms.

On its return, the Persian caravan had one driver the less, for the
apostate was on his death-bed in the humble dwelling of his brother.
Once more a Christian, again reconciled to his God, he calmly awaited
his summons to a better world. For two weeks he lingered on, repenting
his error and praying for mercy. He died, and in the little jessamine
bower where he had met with the Mussulman, the monk buried the
Christian; he placed a cross upon his grave and mourned him long; but a
heavy load had been removed from his breast, and since that time he had
felt happy, having no weight on his mind to disturb him in the execution
of his sacred ministry.

Having narrated this passage in his history, the Padre Marini bid me
good night, and we prepared to sleep. I went to the boat, where,
stretching myself at the bottom, with my face turned towards the
glittering canopy above, I remained pensive and reflecting upon the
narrative of the monk, until at last I slept.

CHAPTER SIX.

I felt chilly, and I awoke. It was daylight. I stood on my feet and
looked around me. I found myself floating on the deep sea, far from the
shore, the outline of which was tinged with the golden hues of