“Oh! sweeping home, where dark, in the north, See, keeping watch, San Marco looms forth, With its gray ruined towers in the red sunset glow, Mounting guard o’er the tide as it ebbs to and fro; We hear the evening gun as we reach the sea-wall, But soft on our ears the water-murmurs fall, Voices of the river, calling ‘Stay! stay! stay! Children of the Northland, why flee so soon away?’ Though we go, dear river, Thou art ours forever.” After I had fallen asleep, haunted by the marching time of Sara’s verse, I dreamed that there was a hand tapping at my chamber door, and, half roused, I said to myself that it was only dreams, and nothing more. But it kept on, and finally, wide awake, I recognized the touch of mortal fingers, and withdrew the bolt. Aunt Diana rushed in, pale and disheveled in the moonlight. “What _is_ the matter?” I exclaimed. “Niece Martha,” replied Aunt Di, sinking into a chair, “Iris has disappeared!” Grand tableau, in which Sara took part from the majestic bed. “She went to her room an hour ago,” pursued Aunt Di; “it is next to mine, you know, and I went in there just now for some camphor, and found her gone!” “Dear, dear! Where can the child have gone to?” “An elopement,” said Aunt Di, in a sepulchral tone. “Not Mokes?” “No. If it had been Mokes, I should not have--that is to say, it would have been highly reprehensible in Iris, but--However, it is _not_ Mokes; he is sound asleep in his room; I sent there to see.” And Aunt Diana betook herself to her handkerchief. “Can it be John Hoffman?” I mused, half to myself. “Mr. Hoffman went up to his room some time ago,” said Sara. “And pray how do _you_ know, Miss St. John?” asked Aunt Di, coming out stiffly from behind her handkerchief. “Mr. Hoffman would have been very glad to--and, as it happens, he is _not_ in his room at all.” “Then of course--Oh, irretrievable folly!” I exclaimed, in dismay. “But it isn’t John Hoffman, I tell you,” said Aunt Diana, relapsing into dejection again. “He has gone out sailing with the Van Andens; I heard them asking him--a moonlight excursion.” Then the three of us united: MYSELF (_doubtfully_). “Can it be-- } } SARA (_decidedly_). “It must be-- } the Captain!” } AUNT DI (_dejectedly_). “Yes, it is-- } } THE ANCIENT CITY. IN TWO PARTS.--PART II. “The tide comes in; the birds fly low, As if to catch our speech: Ah, Destiny! why must we ever go Away from the Florida Beach?”