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I really found only two lines worthy of a great poet in all the Thebais. They are these. What do you think of my taste? "Clamorem, bello qualis supremus apertis Urbibus, aut pelago jam descendente carina." I am now busy with Quintilian and Lucan, both excellent writers. The dream of Pompey in the seventh book of the Pharsalia is a very noble piece of writing.
"I have told you no, man, and I must put a stop to this stupid idolatry, which will ruin my child, and do you no good. Give her back to me, I say, at once." The pastor held out his hand to receive Carina, who stared at him with large pleading eyes out of the grizzly wolf-skin coat. "Be good to him, papa," she begged. "Only this once." "No, child; no parleying now; come instantly."
This name, which was given them by the first navigators, is retained throughout all Spanish America. The French and the Germans have transformed it, I know not why, into Caraibes. The people call themselves Carina, Calina, and Callinago.
"Carina, I have news for thee, for the time hath been momentous for us in Venice. Di Gioiosa hath gone forward, these many days, with terms from Venice; and soon, it is thought, there will be peace." Terms from Venice to Rome! but the words did not move her from her resolve to let no shadow of their difference mar the beauty of this night. She looked at him wearily.
The Albanian shortly afterwards disappeared, and we proceeded with our packing. About eight o'clock we left Carina, and had rather an unique experience in riding across several large snow fields which were quite hard, though the horses decidedly disliked the experiment. About an hour's ride brought us to a tiny church, solidly built of stone and standing on a ridge overlooking the whole country.
"Carina," he said, in his old affectionate way, "papa wants to see you. Come here and let me talk a little with you." But could he trust his eyes? Carina, who formerly had run so eagerly into his arms, stood hesitating, as if she hoped to be excused. "Well, my little girl," he asked, in a tone of apprehension, "don't you want to talk with papa?"
Something in her attitude pained him, for he sprung forward and caught her hand, covering it with kisses. "Forgive me, carina mia" he cried, repentantly. "I did not mean to reproach you. You cannot help being beautiful it is the fault of God or the devil that you are so, and that your beauty maddens me! You are the heart of my heart, the soul of my soul!
Venice is more faithful in that which she commands, and we, carina, may not longer disregard her will without suspicion of disloyalty. Since Fra Francesco is no longer here, I will apply for some new ministrant. Hast thou a wish in this choice of a priest for the service of our oratory?"
Atle had just disentangled Carina from her wrappings, and was about to descend the stairs to the water when a heavy hand seized him by the shoulder, and a panting voice shouted in his ear: "Give me back my child." He paused, and turned his pathetically bewildered face toward the pastor. "You wouldn't take him from me, parson," he stammered, helplessly; "no, you wouldn't.
"Halvor, my son he is the only one God gave me he is sick; he is going to die, miss, unless you take pity on him." "Where is he?" asked Carina. "He's down in the boat, miss, at the pier. But I'll carry him up to you, if you like. We have been rowing half the night in the cold, and he is very low."
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