dangerous to keep it, I changed it for that of Pane. I remained some months unoccupied at Marseilles, availing myself of the hospitality offered me by one of my friends, named Joseph Paris. At length I succeeded in finding employment as second on board the Union, Captain Gazar.

On the following Sunday, about five o'clock, standing near a back window, with the captain, I followed with my eyes, on the quay St. Ann, a collegian out on holiday, who was amusing himself with jumping from bark to bark, when all at once his foot slipped, he uttered a loud cry, and fell into the water.

I was dressed quite in my best; but at the sight of the accident, hearing the cry of the boy, and seeing him disappear, I sprang out, dressed and booted as I was, into the basin of the port. I dived twice in vain ; the third time I was fortunate enough to seize my collegian under the arm, and bring him to the surface of the water. When once there, I had not much trouble in pushing him to the quay; an immense crowd was already assembled there, and hailed me with applauses and bravos. He was a youth of about fourteen, named Joseph Rambaud. The tears of joy and the benedictions of his mother paid me amply for the bath I had taken. As I saved his life under the name of Joseph Pane, it is probable, if he still lives, he has never known the true name of his preserver.

I made my third voyage to Odessa, on board the Union; then, on my return, I embarked on board a frigate of the bey of Tunis. I left it in the port of the Gouletta, and came back in a Turkish brig. On my return, I found Marseilles in nearly the same state as M. de Belzunee saw it in during the black plague of 1720. The cholera was just breaking out fearfully. Everybody except the physicians and the Sisters of Charity had deserted Marseilles. Every one was at his bastide (a small country house); the city bore the aspect of a vast cemetery.

The physicians demanded bénévoles-it is known

that that is the name given in hospitals to voluntary assistants. I offered myself, at the same time with a young Triestain who came from Tunis with me. We took our places in the hospital, and watched by turns. This service lasted a fortnight.

At the end of that period, as the intensity of the cholera began to diminish, finding I had an opportunity for placing myself, and by placing myself of seeing fresh countries, I engaged as second on board the brig Nautonnier of Nantes, Captain Beauregard, just setting sail for Rio Janeiro.

Many of my friends have told me that I am more a poet than anything else. If one can only be a poet upon the condition of having written the Iliad, la Divina Comedia, the Meditations of de Lamartine, or the Orientales of Victor Hugo, I am no poet; but if it be a poet to pass hours in seeking in the azure depths of the waters the mysteries of submarine vegetations; if it be a poet to remain in an ecstasy before the bay of Rio Janeiro, of Naples, or of Constantinople; if it be a poet to dream of filial tenderness, childish remembrances, or early love, amidst balls and bullets, without thinking that your dream may terminate by having your head broken or an arm carried away-then, I am a poet.

I remember perfectly well that one day in the last war, worn out with fatigue, not having slept for two nights, having scarcely been off my horse's back for two days, watching Urban and his twelve thousand men with my forty Bersaglieri, my forty horse, and a thousand men, armed in all ways, following a little path on the other side of Mont Orfano, with Colonel Turr and five or six men, I stopped all on a sudden, forgetting fear and danger, to listen to the song of a nightingale. It was night, moonlight, and splendid weather. The bird shook out upon the wind his chaplet of harmonious notes, and it appeared to me as I listened to this little friend of my early days, that I felt a beneficent and regenerative dew shower down upon me. They who surrounded me believed that I hesitated as to the road

we should follow, that I was listening if there were not the grumbling noise of distant cannon, or thought I heard the steps of horses resounding on the high road. No, I was listening to the song of the nightingale, which Í had not heard for perhaps ten years, and the ecstasy lasted not only till those who were with me had repeated "General, there is the enemy!" but until the enemy himself having said :-"Here am I," by firing upon us, had put the nocturnal charmer to flight.

And then, again, when, after having passed along the granite rocks which so well conceal the port from all eyes that the Indians in their expressive language have called it Nelhuo hy, that is to say, hidden water—when, after having cleared the pass which leads into its bay, calm as a lake-when, upon the western shore of this bay, I saw the city rise, dominated by the Pao d'Anuear, an immense conic rock which serves not as a pharos, but as a signal-shaft for the navigator-when I saw springing around me that luxuriant vegetation of which neither Africa nor Asia had given me but a weak idea, I remained truly astonished at the spectacle which unfolded itself before me.

On entering the port of Rio Janeiro, it was my good fortune soon to meet with the rarest thing in the world, a friend. And I had not the trouble to seek him; we stood in no need of studying each other to become acquainted; we passed accidentally, we exchanged a look, and all was said; after one smile, after one pressure of the hand, Rossetti and I were brothers for life.

Hereafter I shall have occasion to show what this noble spirit was; and yet I his friend, I his brother, I, for so long his inseparable companion, shall die perhaps without having the joy of planting a cross upon the unknown spot of American earth where the bones of this generous and valiant man repose.

After Rossetti and I had passed a few months in idleness-for I call it idleness to carry on a commerce for which neither of us was born-chance led us to place ourselves in relation with Zambecani, the secre

D

tary of Bento-Gonzales, president of the republic of Rio-Grande, at war with Brazil. Both were prisoners of war at St. Creag, a fortress which rises on the right of the entrance to the port, and from which ships are hailed. Zambecarri, who, it may be told in passing, was son of the famous aeronaut lost in a voyage to Syria, and of whom nothing has since been heard, introduced me to the President, who gave letters of marque to cruise against Brazil. Some time after, Bento-Gonzales and Zambecarri escaped by swimming, and fortunately regained Rio-Grande.

CHAPTER VIII.

A CORSAIR.

WE armed for war the Mazzini, a small vessel of about thirty tons, in which we commenced coasting; we launched our boat into the sea with sixteen companions in adventure. We were at length free, we were navigating beneath a republican flag, and were consequently corsairs. With a crew of sixteen men, and a barke of thirty tons, we declared war against an empire.

On leaving the port, I steered straight for the isles Marica, situated about five or six miles from the mouth of the road, bearing to our left; our arms and ammunitions were concealed under meat cured with manioi,

the sole food of negroes. I advanced towards the largest of these islands, which possessed an anchorage; I there cast anchor, jumped ashore, and scrambled up to the most elevated point. Then I stretched forth my arms with a feeling of happiness and pride, and I uttered a cry similar to that of an eagle hovering at his highest flight. The ocean was mine, and I took possession of my empire. I had not to wait long for an opportunity of exercising my power.

Whilst I was, like a sea-bird, perched on the top of my observatory, I perceived a goëlette sailing under

Brazilian colours. I made a signal for putting again to sea, and descended to the beach. We steered straight towards the goëlette, which could have no idea of being in such danger within two or three miles of the Channel of Rio Janeiro. On hailing her, we made ourselves known, and summoned her to surrender. I must do her the justice to say she made no resistance. We boarded and took possession of her.

A poor devil of a Portuguese passenger came crouching towards me with a casket in his hand. He opened it; it was full of diamonds; and he offered it to me as a ransom for his life. I closed the box, and returned it to him, assuring him that his life was in no danger; therefore he might keep his diamonds for a more urgent occasion.

1

We, however, had no time to lose; we were, in a manner, under the fire of the batteries of the port. We transported the arms and provisions of the Mazzini on board the goëlette, and scuttled the Mazzini, which, my readers may see, as a corsair, had had a glorious but short existence.

The goëlette belonged to a rich Austrian, an inhabitant of the Island Grande, situated on the right, leaving the port about fifteen miles from the mainland. She was laden with coffee, and bound for Europe. This ship, then, was for me doubly a good prize, since it belonged to an Austrian, against whom I had made war in Europe, and to a merchant domiciled in Brazil, against which I was making war in America.

I gave the goëlette the name of Scano pilla, derived from Fanapas, people in rags-a name which the Empire of Brazil gave to the inhabitants of the young Republics of South America, as Philip II. gave that of beggars of land and sea to the revolted people of the Netherlands. Till then the goëlette had been called La Louisa. This name, moreover, suited us very well. All my companions were not Rossettis; and I must confess that the appearance of many among them was not very encouraging, which explains the