if I could keep my soldiers in their ranks, I should teach the friends of Florence to mistrust her, and confirm her enemies in their harshness. And how sad she will be when she finds out, as one day she must, that my heart was hers. I will not let my friends who made pictures of me, and sang songs about my battles, suffer for the sake of those old fools in the Council. There is my own sun sinking out of the sky. He has blessed our Florence, and all her hills, fields, gardens, olive-grounds, and vineyards. Yet methought he gave Pisa more advantage than us. He does not burn the earth in anger for not understanding him. No, he drops quietly out of the sky when his task is done. The new sun will be welcomed to-morrow. So shall some new Luria be praised and I forgotten.'

He draws from his breast a phial-all he brought from his own native land. He meant to use it only when defeated hopelessly; but now he drinks from it what must close his day of triumph. As he will not let the enemies of Florence shelter him against her, there seems to be no way for him to escape death, and he is determined to save her the disgrace of inflicting it. He has mounted a pinnacle of selfsacrifice above which he cannot rise, and below which he will not fall.

Puccio assures him that the city has gone too far to stop short of his ruin, for she must distrust his

magnanimity even more than she did his innocence. But Luria unfolds all his plans for making her the queen of the country to the astonished Florentine, who asks him if he really expects that Pisa will shelter him after this, or that even this will disarm Florence. Luria, however, says he has one allpowerful friend who is waiting for him, and shows such eagerness to have the whole credit of completing this great work go to Puccio, that this officer finally says:—

'Not for fifty hundred Florences would I accept any other post than my rightful one-here at your feet. Alas! that I should have had so much trouble in finding out my true place! Now I wish only to be a tool in your right hand, that your glorious heart may make mine beat doubly fast. I have no more fear of Florence. Half-a-dozen words, such as I can speak now, will show her how she has erred, or, at the worst, I will follow you to exile and death!'

At this Luria assures Puccio that he hopes still to help him to work for Florence, and to praise each happy blow he strikes for her. The Moor's last task is to gain from Jacopo the promise that he will do his utmost to clear the fame of Domizia's father and brothers.

It is nearly midnight when Braccio returns, and with him comes Tiburzio, who has not gone to the

Lucchese army, as was permitted by his conqueror, but straight to Florence.

'I have taken the best way to serve Pisa,' he explains to Luria. A people is but the attempt of many to rise up into one complete life, and the models are of more value than the mass.

You are

such a man that your fate is of more importance to Pisa than her own apparent welfare. If we can keep our model safe new men will arise, and other days show how great a good it was that Luria lived. I might have joined Lucca's army, as you bade me, and taken advantage of your disgrace to repair our loss; but where, then, would be Luria for our sons to see? No, I look further. I have declared my submission to your arms and testified to your full success, making your probity plain to Florence, as no one else could. I spoke and all was clear.'

'Ah! till Braccio spoke,' answers Luria.

'Till Braccio himself told his great error. He knows you now, Luria. Nay, it is I and not you, who should droop the head. Yet I do not, for I feel sure of your pardon. So let night end and sunrise come. Speak, Luria! Here begins your true career. Now the glory and grandeur of all your dreams will be fulfilled, and every prophecy except one. You said that you would punish Florence.'

Then Braccio sees that this is done, for Luria is dead.

56

THE ADVENTURES OF

BALAUSTION.

THE

HE first of these was in 413 B.C., when the great expedition of Athens against the Syracusans failed, her whole army was captured, and the news of her defeat tempted many of her allies to revolt.

My native city of Cameirus, in Rhodes,' says our heroine, 'was among the rebels against the home of Sophocles and Euripides-the light and life of all the world. Some of my kindred and friends were moved by my entreaties to flee with me to Caunus, in Caria, where we took a ship for Athens. All the way I kept reciting from the great Attic poets, especially from Euripides. Sometimes it was a whole play, and sometimes a drop of honey from a chorus. If a star rose, or a cloud surprised us, I told how star and cloud were sung by the meteor-like poet of air and sea, of the mind of man, and all that's made to soar. The sailors gave me a new name, and called me "Wildpomegranate-flower Balaustion," for they said I was like that bountiful tree, whose ruddy bloom surpasses

that of even the rose in Rhodes -the very isle of roses; promising not only beauty and fragrance, but food, drink, means of healing, and the nightingale's song.

'Before we had reached my heart's true haven, a contrary wind drove us so far out of our course that when it ceased we knew not where we were. Suddenly we saw a pirate close behind us, and began to row for the nearest land, which the pilot thought was Crete. The pursuer gained on us; but I sprang upon the altar by the mast, and sang the great song with which Æschylus made immortal the victory of Athens at Salamis. Now the oars churned the black water white, the pirate was left far behind, and soon we gained a full view of the sea-port. Alas! it was Syracuse. We were running from the wolf upon the lion. Before we could take counsel, a galley dashed out of the harbour, and we were asked if we were friends or foes to Sparta. Our captain answered that we were Rhodians from Caunus, and reminded them that this city had followed Rhodes into the great league against Athens.'

""Ay! but we heard all Athens in one ode," answered the Syracusans. "Your passengers are Athenians, though your ship may be from Caunus. For the sake of Caunus you may take them to that city if you will; but for the sake of Athens you must leave this harbour. No matter how many pirates