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Updated: June 11, 2025


Yielding allegiance to the axiom that "the proper study of mankind is man," and recognizing the fact that history faithfully epitomizes the magnificent triumphs and stupendous failures, the grand capacities and innate frailties of the races, he fostered and stimulated his pupil's fondness for historic investigation; while in impressing upon her memory the chronologic sequence of events he not only grouped into great epochs the principal dramas, over which Clio holds august critical tribunal, but so carefully selected her miscellaneous reading, that poetry, novels, biography, and essays reflected light upon the actors of the particular epoch which she was studying; and thus through the subtle but imperishable links of association of ideas, chained them in her mind.

"Oh, it's wonderful that you got away, Conway!" the girl exclaimed. "But hadn't you better get Captain Bradley first? Then, if anything should happen, he would be of some use, while I...." "I'll knock him into an outside loop if he does!" the captain snorted, and Costigan went on: "You won't need to. You come first, Clio, of course.

They embodied a people; and Clio, pondering, opened the long scrolls of time. All biography has been said to be eulogistic in its nature. This is well enough.

Such knowledge is perhaps altogether unattainable in any history; it is most surely so here, where city is built on city, monument upon monument, road upon road, from the heart of the soil upwards the hardened lava left by many eruptions of life; where the tablets of Clio have been shattered again and again, where fire has eaten, and sword has hacked, and hammer has bruised ages of records out of existence, where even the race and type of humanity have changed and have been forgotten twice and three times over.

Napoleon and Marie Louise passed slowly along a water-walk, where hidden music issued from a subterranean grotto, to a vine-clad arbor adorned with mirrors, monograms, flowers, and wreaths, and listened to a concert of vocal and instrumental music, French and German; then they went further into the garden, stopping before a Temple of Glory, where were four handsome women representing Victory, the muse Clio, and Renown; then trumpets sounded, triumphal songs were sung, and perfumes were burning on golden tripods.

"You did it, Conway; you did it!" Clio exulted. "Oh, Conway, you're just simply wonderful!" "I haven't done it yet," Costigan cautioned her. "The worst is yet to come. Nerado. He's why they wanted to hold us back, and why I was in such a hurry to get away. That boat of his is bad medicine, girl, and we want to put plenty of kilometers behind us before he gets started."

Dick, thus delegated to the duty of skipper, rolled down the float with the gait of an old sailor, and got aboard the Clio. The stranger with the sore head grumbled, but he could not help himself. He insisted, however, on taking the helm as the Clio moved out from the float. She was scarcely a hundred yards away when a young man, panting with haste, rushed down the stairs from the boat-house.

The three wanderers sat tense, hardly daring to breathe, staring into the plates Clio and Bradley pushing at metal levers and stepping down hard upon metal brakes in unconscious efforts to help Costigan dodge the beams and rods of death flashing so appallingly close upon all sides.

Costigan trained his key-tube upon the doorway of Clio's cell, then tossed it aside. "Different combinations over here!" he barked. "Got to cut you out lie down in that far corner!" His hands flashed over the panel, and as Clio fell prone without hesitation or question a heavy beam literally blasted away a large portion of the roof of the structure.

That the poet's opinion of her remained unchanged by Mrs. Haywood's vituperation may be inferred from some lines in her praise in a satire called "The Authors of the Town," printed soon after the publication of "Memoirs of a Certain Island." "Clio, descending Angels sweep thy Lyre, Prompt thy soft Lays, and breathe Seraphic Fire.

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