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Updated: June 11, 2025
'I saw Captain Gordon at Portsmouth this morning, and he tells me he is to go out in the Clio to the Pacific station, and would apply for me as his first lieutenant, if I liked to look up the islands again. So, if you have any commissions for Norman, I'm your man. 'And how soon?
These were twice its numbers, with four or five thousand reserves some days behind. Generalship was given the go-by on both sides, the cul-de-sac of San Jacinto being closed at both ends. Thirty minutes of noise and smoke, and the empire of Cortez and Montezuma was split in two. Clio nibbed another quill, steel pens not having then been invented.
Their mutual embrace tightened and her low voice thrilled brokenly as she went on: "Conway, dearest.... I can't say a thing, but you know.... Oh, Conway!" After a time Clio drew a long and tremulous, but supremely happy breath as the realities of their predicament once more obtruded themselves upon her consciousness. She released herself gently from Costigan's arms.
Yet I would lay my story confidently before you, my reader, trusting in the justice of my case and in your judicial discernment, but for one other thing. What will the Goddess Clio say, or the well-deserving knight, if I offend History? She has stated her case, Sir Bartimeus has written it, and then so late in the day I come with a different story, a truer but different story. What will they do?
When the sail was up, he jumped into the boat, and prepared to get under way. But Uncle Jimmy's assistant had hold of the "painter," or rope, by which the Clio had been fastened to the wharf. "Avast there!" he said. "Mr. Redwood don't let his boats go out that way." "What do you mean?" demanded the stranger with the bandaged head. "He won't let you go out alone.
Lips upon eager lips, blue eyes to gray, motionless they stood clasped in ecstasy; thinking nothing of the dreadful past, nothing of the fearful future, conscious only of the glorious, the wonderful present. "Clio mine ... darling ... girl, girl, how I love you!" Costigan's deep voice was husky with emotion. "I haven't kissed you for seven thousand years!
Dancing Terpsichore tried to take him by the mane, but the white wings flashed in her face and the wonderful steed was gone before she had touched him. Urania, the Muse who loved the heavens, believed that he was from some star world. Clio, the Muse of History, knew that no such creature had ever lived on earth before. They all watched for his return.
Unenviable fate of those who aspire to be teachers of mankind, that they themselves should be studied with a kind of antiquarian interest, stimulating thought not otherwise than as warning examples! Clio has fallen from her pedestal. That radiant creature, in identifying her interests with those of theocracy, has become the hand-maiden of a withered and petulant mistress, a mercenary slut.
When England did enjoy her Halsion dayes, Her noble Sidney wore the Crown of Bayes; As well an honour to our British Land, As she that swayed the Scepter with her hand; Mars and Minerva did in one agree, Of Arms and Arts he should a pattern be, Calliope with Terpsichore did sing, Of poesie, and of musick, he was King; His Rhetorick struck Polimina dead, His Eloquence made Mercury wax red; His Logick from Euterpe won the Crown, More worth was his then Clio could set down.
I'd say make a break back for our own Solarian system. We know the direction, from our own observation, and we'll have plenty of power." "But good Heavens, Conway, it's so far!" exclaimed Clio. "How about food, water, and air would we ever get there?" "You know as much about that as I do. I think so, but of course anything might happen.
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