School was over, the children scattered; the captain sent a lad for the schoolhouse key. “Her Majesty sent all the books and [Illustration: ZIA MADDALENA AND HER FAMILY. _Page 303._] [Illustration: CAPTAIN BIGNAMI AND HIS STAFF. _Page 310._] [Illustration: MESSINA. GASPERONE AND WATER BOYS IN HOTEL COURTYARD. _Page 289._] [Illustration: MESSINA. ROAD-MAKING IN THE AMERICAN VILLAGE. _Page 305._] furniture from Rome. See the nice little desks, the little chairs. Here are the copy-books. This belongs to the son of that woman you talked with, a fair hand for a nine-year-old, _non è vero_?” He showed me the text-books, the maps, the teacher’s records, the sum in subtraction on the blackboard, the prancing horse a clever scholar had drawn below it. “It’s one of the best equipped village schools I ever saw,” I exclaimed. He glowed with pleasure--he loved the Villaggio as a man only loves the thing he has created. From the wall behind the teacher’s desk, the grave kind face of the young Queen looked down upon her school. We found J. still discussing the site of the American quarter with his officer. “With respect, sir,” said J., “it’s my opinion that this is the best site--the view is incomparable.” “Unquestionably true, but the ground slopes; to level it will cost immense trouble and fatigue. This other land behind here--“ “The trouble will not be counted, sir; for a hospital the higher ground, the better air, the prospect, surely are important. Her Majesty would, I feel sure, prefer the site that the Comandante Belknap finds most desirable--“ Both were earnest, polite, adamantine; but I knew that Captain Belknap’s site would carry the day! * * * * * I did not learn till later that my officer was Captain Bignami, an heroic figure in the drama of Messina. From first to last he was the staunch friend of the Americans. His name, like Captain Cagni’s at Reggio, is one that Italy will hear more of; it was never spoken in our camp without some word of praise. It seems a poetical justice that sailors should have done so much for Messina, for it has always been a hospitable port for the ships of all nations, since the first Phoenician trader crept timidly along the African coast, made a dash across the straits, and felt his way into the harbor. It was one of the trysting places for the ships of the world. The sailors heard of its destruction with a shiver of regret; with a haunting memory of its lovely shores, splendid with pomegranates, golden oranges, dark glossy carob trees, silver olives; where the joyous notes of the tarantella echoed by day, the languid music of the serenade by night; where the air was cool with the kiss of snowy Etna; sweet with the perfume of many orange groves. XI TAORMINA