CHAPTER VI.
PORTUGUESE TOWNS AND HEROES.
The fog had delayed them some hours, but when the girls awoke, late thenext morning, there was not a vestige of it left, save an extrabrilliance in the clear air, while the engines were pounding away in abrave effort to bring them into Lisbon by the schedule. As noonapproached, and the pale tan of the coast line grew upon them, all wasanimation on board, for any landing when voyaging by sea, is an event,and especially so when the stay is to be of several hours duration.
Our twins dragged out their flat steamer trunks from under their beds,and pulled out their prettiest street costumes, glad to discard theuseful ulster for a light jacket and hat. They were told the weatherwould be mild on shore, though it was November, and they were delightedto feel themselves really "dressed up" again, as Hope remarked.
"Do you know," put in her sister ruminantly, "there's ever so muchdifference between being dressed up and well dressed. Now there's Mrs.Vanderhoff; she never is really dressed up, but I have not yet seen herwhen she was not well dressed for the occasion."
"Faith, if you get to moralizing I shall go distracted! Where _did_ weput our jeweled hat pins? I've looked and looked, and--oh, there theyare right under my nose. Goodness! is that a rap?--Ah, is it you, MissBess? Come right in. How fine you look in your shore clothes!"
"Shore clothes? That's good! Country people talk about store clothesat home, but I never heard of shore clothes, before."
"Well, it's my invention--an inspiration of the moment. I'll make youa present of it. Do you know, Faith, we'll have to buy some newhandkerchiefs, or have ours laundered in some way. I never used somany in my life."
"You might do as the Carrollton girls, from Chicago, did when they wereabroad, last year," remarked Bess with a laugh. "There were so many ofthem that the laundry bills were dreadful, so they concluded to washout their own handkerchiefs. Of course they had no way of ironingthem, so, while they were still very wet, they would plaster them upagainst the window-panes in the sun, to dry. They said the embroideredones would come out beautifully, just as if nicely pressed on the wrongside. It got so they would look at the window panes the first thing,when they reached a hotel, or pension, to see if they were large enoughfor drying-boards. And when they visited the Tuileries, as they allstood in silence, gazing at the great fountain, the lovely flowers, andthe lawn of velvet, Minnie suddenly broke out, 'What a beautiful placeto dry our handkerchiefs, girls!'"
"How ridiculous!" cried Faith. "I hope no such practical thought willmar the romance of our visit to Lisbon, to-day."
"Oh, nothing could take your romance away," said Hope. "A little morepracticality wouldn't hurt you. But come, I'm ready. Let's go up andsee the blessed land, even if it is only Portuguese soil."
Thus talking and laughing they hastened deckwards, and many eyes turnedupon them with pleasure as they appeared, so bright and rosy, andunconscious of anything but the enjoyment in hand. Even Lady Moreham'sface relaxed, and her eyes followed them with a wistful expression, asshe remarked, _sotto voce_, "How sweetly they look!"
"Sweet, you mean," hinted Mrs. Poinsett at her elbow, with adeferential air, yet decided tone.
The other turned with a quick, impatient sigh, and half-resentfulmanner, but in a moment moved closer and said humbly,
"Thank you for the correction! Do not let my smallest errors escapeyou."
Mrs. Poinsett bent her dignified head.
"I obey you, my lady, though it is hard for both of us."
"Yes, everything is hard, but no matter."
And now all eyes were gazing shorewards, for Lisbon presents abeautiful appearance when approached from the water, rising, as shedoes, in terraces which overlook the noble Tagus, and are in turnoverlooked by the Sierras, ending in the Peak of Lisbon, at its mouth.Arriving thus, one does not see the filth and squalor, the tumble-downbuildings, unpaved streets, or many poor mean houses tucked in amongthe grander ones. Lisbon has sometimes been called "The Sultana of theWest," and the comparison is apt enough, for like many a sultana herfirst appearance is conspicuously beautiful, but she will not bear tooclose inspection. Her jewels are often mere colored glass, herembroideries tawdry, and her garments not over clean.
But in the brilliant sunshine of this glowing noon Portugal's capitalsat throned in majesty, and the passengers were enthusiastic in theirpraises.
"Come!" cried Dwight, appearing like a bombshell in their midst. "Areyou ready, girls? We're going ashore together, and while the captainruns about on his affairs, uncle and mother are going to trot us aroundwherever we want to go. Then, by and by, we're to meet him in thePlace of Commerce, and go for dinner at the Braganza. He and unclehave fixed it all up. Hip, hooray! Won't it be jolly to be on landagain?"
But it proved slow work making their way in, for the river's mouth,which broadens into a noble harbor, was choked with the shipping ofmany lands, which had doubtless been detained by the fog of last night.As the young people leaned over the guard rail, it was great fun towatch the crowd of clumsy little native boats, laden with fruit andwine, which were hovering about the steamer, and getting in the way ofeverybody, while crying their wares. Many of these boatmen seemed asdark in complexion as any East Indian on board, and nearly all woreear-rings, generally of silver, in the dingy lobes of their ears. Theyseemed noisy and quarrelsome, and often shrieked what seemed liketerrible imprecations at each other, shaking their fists and scowlingdarkly, only to be laughing carelessly the next minute, as if nothingmattered. Dwight was about motioning one man to fling him up a bunchof figs, in exchange for the silver coin in his fingers, when his unclecalled them to the other side of the deck, which was just as well, forit would have had to be a splendid toss and catch had he secured them.
Mr. Lawrence wanted to point out the difference between a clumsy coastlugger just putting out to sea, and a clean little clipper-builtEnglish yacht coming in. He said,
"It is a difference that you will see in almost everything here. ThePortuguese do not know the meaning of the word thrift, as we understandit, and if cleanliness is not next to godliness with them, it certainlyis next to royalty, for it never descends to the common people."
When, at last, they went on shore and left the wharves behind, most ofthe bustle died away, and they could see that Mr. Lawrence had onlytold the truth, in the easy way in which all business seemed to bemanaged.
But they found much to admire and enjoy in the odd costumes and peoplethey were constantly meeting; more, as Hope rather contemptuouslyremarked, than in the buildings, which were "just like houses anywhere."
She was right enough, for this is largely true on the seaward side ofLisbon. Her quaintness, and squalor also, lie further inland, wherethe old quarters are to be found.
"So you don't think Lisbon has many novelties, Miss Hosmer?" laughedMr. Lawrence, who thought there was more fun in the young people thanin scenes that were not new to him. "Just wait a bit! We are comingto something now."
He led the way into a pleasant enclosure, or placa, as they call itthere, saying carelessly, "Let's cross to the other side."
They started briskly enough, but in a minute Hope flung out a hand asif for support.
"Oh, I can't stand up another minute!" she cried. "It makes meseasick."
But Dwight caught her arm and laughingly urged her on, stumbling andprotesting, for this is known as Rolling Motion Square, and is paved ingray-blue stone to represent billows in motion. So complete is theeffect that those who are still giddy from ocean travel find it a trialto walk across it.
"Dwight," called his mother admonishingly, "you will weary the patienceof these young ladies. Come and help your mother a minute, can't you?"
"Of course I can, mommy, provided Miss Hope will release me, but she isclinging awfully tight just now!"
Amid the laughter his uncle sent him forward with a push, and offeredhis own arm.
"Get out, you rascal! We're nearly across, Miss Hosmer, and I'm verygl
ad of an opportunity to monopolize you for a little. I see you arenot greatly impressed with Portugal; you don't like it so wellas--well, Lynn, for instance?"
"Now you are laughing at me, but indeed I do not! Do you know, Mr.Lawrence, I have always wished we girls were Americans in realearnest--to live there, you understand. I love England, too, but whileI was with Uncle Albert at Lynn, he used to talk to me a great dealabout that grand United States and it seems to me a wonderful land.Faith was not so strong as I, and used to stay in more--you see, unclewas not really in the busy part, but well out where it was more likethe country--and she did not go about with him as I did. Once he tookme to Plymouth, and when he showed me that rock with the railing aroundit, and told me about those Pilgrim fathers braving the sea andsavages, just to worship God as they thought was right, it seemed to meas if my whole soul bowed down in reverence! From that minute I was anAmerican girl--a New England girl--and I have kept true to my father'scountry ever since."
"I think," said Mr. Lawrence, thoughtfully, "that there is something inthe foundation of our New England which gives it an interest beyondthat of almost any region known, and it certainly appeals to any naturewhich has an enthusiasm for the heroic and noble. Many countries havebeen acquired through bloodshed, by conquest and because of greed andglory, but a country whose foundations were laid in the rights ofconscience only, whose progenitors took God alone for their Leader, andhis rules and service for their code--who came in peace and poverty,demanding nothing but the right to live and die true men--ah! no wonderNew England is proud of her forefathers."
"What Portuguese hero are you lecturing about now, uncle?" called backDwight, saucily, but was at once suppressed by his mother. Hopeanswered lightly,
"We have found better heroes than those old Portuguese fighters, wethink; haven't we, Mr. Lawrence?"
"Yes. Still, there is one man whom I greatly admire, of this nation,and I think we will visit his statue next. What do you know about Luizde Camoes, or, as we write it, Camoens, Dwight?"
"Gracious! Nothing at all; never heard of him. Was he a fighter?"
"Hardly. At any rate he did his fighting in a noble way--rather likeheaping coals of fire I should say. He was a writer."
"Oh, tell us about him, uncle."
"What! A lecture? But that is not admissible in polite society."
"Now, don't tease. You know we are all dying to hear about him.Proceed!"
"Dying?" put in Mrs. Vanderhoff. "How extravagantly you talk, my son."
"Well, crazy, then."
She laughed hopelessly.
"Go on, pray," she said to her brother. "He simply leaps from thefrying-pan into the fire."
"De Camoens," he said, "was by no means without faults, but he wasgifted, generous, forgiving, and brave. He was foolish enough to lovea lady too near the throne, and on that account was banished, andendured many hardships for years. Yet he did not let this dampen hislove of country, and his loyalty to the government. Though an exile,he wrote a romantic epic extolling the deeds of his countrymen in allages, which has become a great classic, and has made both them andhimself immortal. I call that a generous deed! He died poor andunnoticed, but now his people make an idol of him, and his statue isone of the sights of Lisbon."
"Did he live here?" asked Faith. "That is, when he was not in exile?"
"Yes, this was his home."
"And his poem was the Lusiad," added Mrs. Vanderhoff.
"Why, I've heard of that!" cried Dwight. "We had something about it inour Rhetoric."
"And here," said Mr. Lawrence, pointing down a street into which theyhad turned, "you catch your first glimpse of his statue. Poor fellow!I wonder if he knows of the tardy recognition, wherever he is now?"
They stood some time before this monument to an unfortunate genius,then started on a lively exploration of the streets and shops, whichwas perhaps more interesting to the ladies than to their escort. Atany rate it was with something like a sigh of relief that he at lengthglanced at his watch, and declared it was time to meet the captain inthe Place of Commerce, close by.
This is a conspicuous square in Lisbon, and they had already visitedsome of its arcaded shops, but without taking special note of itsattractions. Now they had leisure to stroll about and admire the finepublic buildings, and the exquisite flowers and foliage. Quitesuddenly they came upon the captain who was, to the great astonishmentof his daughters, walking leisurely about in company with Lady Morehamand Mrs. Poinsett. They all stopped to exchange greetings, and finallywandered over to the open side of the square, where is a fine view ofthe Tagus, with its varied shipping and busy shores. As they wereturning to make their way to the hotel for dinner, Faith found herselfbeside the English lady, who said in a gentle voice, which seemed oddlyout of place with her reserved, almost haughty, manner,
"Have you enjoyed the afternoon, my child?"
"Very much, thank you," said Faith. "There are so many queer-lookingpeople, and it is diverting to visit all these open booths, and try tounderstand their jargon and make them understand ours. I feel in adream sometimes."
"Then you have not traveled largely?"
"Very little, my lady."
"I heard you and your sister speak of being in the United States sometime, did I not?"
"Oh yes, a year. Our father was born there."
"And you were in Boston?"
"Yes, many times."
"Did you ever go to any of the suburbs--Brookline, for instance?"
"I was there twice. We had friends living there. Isn't it a charmingplace? It made me think of some of our prettiest English towns."
"Oh, it is better--that is, I have heard it spoken of as a littleparadise. Did you go about considerable?"
Faith glanced at her, surprised by several things. First, there was awistful note in her voice which seemed singular when speaking of a townnever visited; second, with all her precise use of language, once in awhile this woman of the highest aristocracy made an odd slip in agrammatical way. She was a somewhat puzzling compound. Faith answered,
"A little. We rode up on Corey's Hill, of course, and around by thereservoir, and out towards Jamaica Pond--but you do not know, perhaps--"
"Go on, pray! I like to hear it." The woman's manner was almostbreathless with eagerness, and Faith, wondering still more, continued."I enjoyed as much as anything just wandering around alone, and lookingat the lovely homes. I never was quite sure when I was in a realstreet, or in a private way, till I saw the signs up, and I used towonder why these beautiful little lanes were labeled, 'Dangerous,' tilluncle told me it was because they were private property, and the townwould not be responsible for accidents that might happen there. Myfriend lived in a park, with several houses set down at random, andpretty drives through it, and another little girl I visited lived wellup the hill, and when she wanted to come down town in winter she justtucked herself up on a little sled, and coasted all the way. I thoughtthat must be great fun!"
Lady Moreham's eyes were all alight.
"I love to hear you tell about it!" she said. "Some other time we willtalk some more. Your father is beckoning you to hurry, now, and thereis my friend waiting for me impatiently. But did you ever hear ofHale's story, The Man Without a Country? Hale is an American writer."
"I have heard of him, but have not read that story," returned the girl.
"It is a sad one--a very sad one! Good-by. Thank you for a pleasantstroll. I will see you again."
She passed swiftly ahead, to join Mrs. Poinsett, and Faith turned asideto her own party, but when they joked her on making a conquest of thetitled lady she only smiled dreamily, and saw an eager face, filledwith almost girlish life, begging for childish particulars about amodest place in far-away New England.
It was after sunset when, their excellent dinner over, they returned onboard the dear old steamer, which seemed really like home as Joeysmiled a welcome, Mr. Malcolm called a greeting down from the guards,and two or three of the bab
ies ran from their ayahs' sides, along thedeck, to meet them. Even the Bengali boy grinned, as he cleared awaysome paper bags and fruit skins, and a little Mohammedan, who had beenmaking a perch to which Texas could be chained when on deck, came withdeep salaams to beg that they would step and see if it weresatisfactory. They expressed themselves much pleased, but Faithpointed to the long chain attached, and said.
"I don't like that! It makes me think of dungeons and criminals."
"But we'd lose him without it," urged Hope.
"I suppose so. I'm glad, though, my pet is a cat, and does not needchains or cages, I'm going to tell the babies a story in the littlesaloon, Hope, if you want me. They like it before they have to go tobed."
An hour or so later the girls were resting idly in their own stateroom,when Faith asked, suddenly. "What do you think of my lady? Do youlike her any better?"
"You mean Lady Moreham? Yes, I think I do. What was she saying toyou, anyhow, in the placa?"
"Not much. Simply asking questions. I did the talking."
"I thought at first she was horrid--proud and cross, youknow,"--continued Hope, who was lolling indolently on thedimity-covered seat, in a loose gown, "but I'm not so certain of it,now. There's something about her--I wonder if father ever knew herbefore? He seems friendly with her, don't you think?"
"Oh, he's friendly with everybody; it's his business to be. And, ofcourse, she is an important personage. But she kept me talking aboutBrookline, to-day--you remember the pretty place just out from Bostondon't you?--and it seemed odd she should care about it. And did younotice, yesterday, whenever we spoke of--"
"Yes, I did. You can't mention America but she wakes up. Other timesshe doesn't even seem to hear. Perhaps she has been there, after all."
"Possibly. I wonder what she is going out to India for?"
"Oh, to join her husband, probably. That's what all the ladies go for,isn't it?"
A tap at the door and their father's voice.
"Asleep, girlies?"
"Oh no, papa," cried Hope, throwing the door open. "We are up yet, andas wide awake as hawks."
"All right! Get into your ulsters, and come up to the pilot-house.There's a fresh breeze springing up from N.N.E. that will send usspinning on our way, when we can catch it. As soon as we get a goodoffing, you'll see as pretty a sight as you need ever expect to--theold 'International' under full canvas making her eighteen knots an hourfor Gibraltar--lively now!"
In a moment they were beside him, hastening to the elevated turret,with its outlook in every direction, and presently the girls wereenchanted to watch the lively rattling of ropes and shrouds, the rapidunfurling of the great sails, that snapped to place as if clappinggiant hands in joy. When these caught the breeze and braced themselvesto duty, there was a sort of thrill along the good ship, as if she hadresponded with one quick heart-beat. Then, fair, still, magnificent,she glided away, leaving the twinkling lights of city and harbor tofade out in distance--first those low on the water, then the streetlights on the terraces, and lastly one lone gleam in a distant towerthat, like a friendly eye, still gazed after them when, far out in theopen, they sailed smoothly on, the fires banked, and Steam gracefullyyielding place to his older brother, Wind.
All Aboard: A Story for Girls Page 6
