THE AUTHOR. BOSTON, September, 1874. PART I. CHAPTER I. BEFORE DAWN. About thirty miles from the sea, on the River Loire, in France, stands the quaint, sleepy old town of Nantes. The Erdre and the Sevre, two smaller streams unite with the Loire just here and the town is spread out in an irregular fashion over the islands, the little capes between the rivers, and the hills that stand round about. The old part of the town is on the hill-side and occupies the two islands called Freydean and Gloriette, the more modern city has spread over the surrounding country among the groves of chestnut, and the vineyards that fill every available spot where the grapes can get a good look at the sun all through the long sunny days. The river runs swift and bright through the town and flashes under the handsome bridges with their long rows of stone arches. In the river are boats, ships, and steamers, for the good people there spend much of their time in commerce and in catching and curing the silver-white pilchards that swim in such great schools in the neighboring sea. The broad quays that skirt the river are planted with trees, making a most delightful walk, and near the eastern end of the town one of the quays ends at what remains of an old chateau or palace. The houses are mostly of stone, with slated roofs. There are some fine stores in the Place Royal that are quite as grand as those in Paris. There are also some old, old churches black with age, dim and vast inside, with statuary on the outer walls, and splendid gothic towers that seem to blossom all over with stone flowers as they climb so far up into the sky above the quaint old town. Round about the town are gardens and summer houses, pleasant walks and drives, vineyards, groves and all the things that go to make a charming rural scene. In the Place Graslin is a fine theatre and a handsome Town Hall. Of these buildings more presently when we come to see what happened within them. In this old French town in June 1846 there lived a very little girl just four years old. Her home was on the first floor of a small house on a narrow street not far from the Place de la Monnaie, an open square that led into one of the principal streets known as the Rue Voltaire. The house was built in the usual French fashion with a large arch-way under the house that led into a court-yard in the centre. The front door opened into the shady arch-way, and the window balconies were filled with flowering plants in pots. Her name was Camilla. Her father Monsieur Salvatore Urso played the flute in the orchestra at the theatre, or opera house, and on Sundays played the organ at the Church of the Holy Cross that stood facing a little square not far from the river.