By the Ionian Sea | Page 6

George Gissing
of Capri
showed but a faint glimmer; over it towered mighty crags, an awful
blackness, a void amid constellations. From my seat near the stern of
the vessel I could discern no human form; it was as though I voyaged
quite alone in the silence of this magic sea. Silence so all-possessing
that the sound of the ship's engine could not reach my ear, but was
blended with the water-splash into a lulling murmur. The stillness of a
dead world laid its spell on all that lived. To-day seemed an unreality,
an idle impertinence; the real was that long-buried past which gave its
meaning to all around me, touching the night with infinite pathos. Best
of all, one's own being became lost to consciousness; the mind knew
only the phantasmal forms it shaped, and was at peace in vision.

CHAPTER II
PAOLA

I slept little, and was very early on deck, scanning by the light of dawn
a mountainous coast. At sunrise I learnt that we were in sight of Paola;

as day spread gloriously over earth and sky, the vessel hove to and
prepared to land cargo. There, indeed, was the yellowish little town
which I had so long pictured; it stood at a considerable height above the
shore; harbour there was none at all, only a broad beach of shingle on
which waves were breaking, and where a cluster of men, women and
children stood gazing at the steamer. It gave me pleasure to find the
place so small and primitive. In no hurry to land, I watched the
unloading of merchandise (with a great deal of shouting and
gesticulation) into boats which had rowed out for the purpose;
speculated on the resources of Paola in the matter of food (for I was
hungry); and at moments cast an eye towards the mountain barrier
which it was probable I should cross to-day.
At last my portmanteau was dropped down on to the laden boat; I, as
best I could, managed to follow it; and on the top of a pile of rope and
empty flour-sacks we rolled landward. The surf was high; it cost much
yelling, leaping, and splashing to gain the dry beach. Meanwhile, not
without apprehension, I had eyed the group awaiting our arrival; that
they had their eyes on me was obvious, and I knew enough of southern
Italians to foresee my reception. I sprang into the midst of a clamorous
conflict; half a dozen men were quarreling for possession of me. No
sooner was my luggage on shore than they flung themselves upon it.
By what force of authority I know not, one of the fellows triumphed; he
turned to me with a satisfied smile, and--presented his wife.
"_Mia sposa, signore_!"
Wondering, and trying to look pleased, I saw the woman seize the
portmanteau (a frightful weight), fling it on to her head, and march
away at a good speed. The crowd and I followed to the dogana, close
by, where as vigorous a search was made as I have ever had to undergo.
I puzzled the people; my arrival was an unwonted thing, and they felt
sure I was a trader of some sort. Dismissed under suspicion, I allowed
the lady to whom I had been introduced to guide me townwards. Again
she bore the portmanteau on her head, and evidently thought it a trifle,
but as the climbing road lengthened, and as I myself began to perspire
in the warm sunshine, I looked at my attendant with uncomfortable
feelings. It was a long and winding way, but the woman continued to
talk and laugh so cheerfully that I tried to forget her toil. At length we
reached a cabin where the dazio (town dues) officer presented himself,

and this conscientious person insisted on making a fresh examination of
my baggage; again I explained myself, again I was eyed suspiciously;
but he released me, and on we went. I had bidden my guide take me to
the best inn; it was the Leone, a little place which looked from the
outside like an ill-kept stable, but was decent enough within. The room
into which they showed me had a delightful prospect. Deep beneath the
window lay a wild, leafy garden, and lower on the hillside a lemon
orchard shining with yellow fruit; beyond, the broad pebbly beach, far
seen to north and south, with its white foam edging the blue expanse of
sea. There I descried the steamer from which I had landed, just under
way for Sicily. The beauty of this view, and the calm splendour of the
early morning, put me into happiest mood. After little delay a tolerable
breakfast was set before me, with a good rough wine; I ate and drank
by the window, exulting in what I saw
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