BOOK I

YEARS OF YOUTH


CHAPTER 1

THE SEA.


Beautiful is the sea when it lies at rest in its sublimity, its
murmuring waves gently rippling upon the beach, the sky above
reflected with a soft light upon its dark bosom.

Beautiful is the sea when it bears upon its surface the stately
ships, as though they were rose-leaves caressingly tossed by one
wave to another. Beautiful is the sea when the light barks with
their red sails are borne slowly onward by the gentle breeze, the
careless fishermen casting nets from the decks of their frail craft
into the deep, to draw thence, for the nourishment or pleasure of
man, its silent inhabitants. Beautiful it is when in the darkness of
the night, relieved only by the light of the stars, and the moon
just rising above the horizon, the pirates venture forth in their
boats from their lairs on the coast, and glide stealthily along
within the shadow of the overhanging cliffs, awaiting an opportunity
to rob the fishermen of their harvest; or, united in larger numbers,