He was to be pitied; and from his soul did Delmé pity him. He had been one of promise and of talent; but _now_ his lot is cast on the die of apathy;--and it is to be feared--without a miracle intervene--and should his life be spared--that when the wavy locks of youth are changed to the silver hairs of age--that he will then be that thing of all others to be scoffed at--the hoary sensualist. Let us hope not! Let us hope that she who hath brought him to this, may rest her head on the bosom of her right lord, and forget the one, whose hand used to be locked in her own, for hours--hours which flew quick as summer's evening shadows! Let us trust that remorse may be absent from her; that she may never know that worst of reflections--the having injured one who had loved her, irremediably; that she may gaze on her fair-haired children, and her cheek blanch not as she recals another form than the father's; that her life may be irreproachable, her end calm and dignified; that dutiful children may attend the inanimate clay to its resting place; that filial tears may bedew her grave; and, when the immortal stands appalled before its Judge, that the destruction of that soul may not be laid to her charge. Chapter XIV. The Spitfire. "And I have loved thee! Ocean! and my joy Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be Borne like thy bubbles onward." * * * * * "Pull away! yo ho! boys!" Delmé continued to reside with his brother, whose health seemed to amend daily. George generally managed to accompany him in his sight-seeing, from which Henry derived great gratification. He mused over the antique tombs of some of the departed knights; and admired the rich mosaics in that splendid church, dedicated to Saint John; than which the traveller may voyage long, and meet nothing worthier his notice. He visited the ancient armoury--dined at the palace, and at the different messes--inspected the laborious travailings of the silkworm at the boschetto--conversed with the original of Byron's Leila--a sweet creature she is!--looked with wondering eye on the ostrich of Fort Manuel--and heard the then commandant's wife relate her tale thereanent. He went to Gozzo too--shot rabbits--and crossed in a basket to the fungus rock. He saw a festa in the town, and a festa in the country--rode to St. Antonio, and St. Paul's Bay--and was told he had seen the lions. Nor must we pass over that most interesting of spectacles; viz., some figures enveloped in monkish cowl, and placed in convenient niches; but beneath the close hood, the blood mounts not with devotion's glow, nor do eyes glare from sockets shrunk by abstinence. Skeletons alone are there! These, curious reader, are the bodies of saintly Capuchins; thus exhibited--dried and baked--to excite beholders to a life of virtue!