dren, he
says, and Mrs. Campbell is to close up the rear of his section, while
mother follows with ours. They've been laughing about it over there.
Ah, there's Bess beckoning! Be sure and join us, girls."

"Yes, when father comes. Goody! here he is. We're all ready, papa."

"So am I, but you'll have to wait till I've attended to my papers--but
it won't take long. Just follow on."

The passengers were soon streaming shorewards over the long pier, and
sniffing with delight the fresh odor of flowers that filled the air,
which, to Hope, was a continual wonder, for she could not yet accept
the fact of lovely English gardens on this gray old rock.

A walk through the paved streets, with their home-like dwellings,
stores, churches, and official buildings only increased this wonder,
and her stock of adjectives was soon exhausted. Mr. Malcolm,
naturally, led them first to the market, where business called him, and
here the girls were specially interested in the flowers, some of the
booths being fancifully arranged with a bewildering display.

The people they met seemed of every complexion and country, from groups
of tourists in the latest fashion to a couple of long-robed Parsees,
with their funny little caps perched above their black polls. Bess
indicated another passer-by, and said in a low tone, "What an old maid
of a man!" and certainly, with his straight gown, and a high comb stuck
up in his back hair which was coiled into a tight knot, the
dark-skinned fellow did strongly suggest a typical spinster.

Even Hope looked pleased, and Faith's eyes glittered as a small company
of British soldiery, from the barracks, in red coats and white helmets,
and with fresh young faces, came clattering down the street, and
returned the greetings of the gentlemen, and smiles of the ladies, with
their military salute, and a second glance in the direction of their
pretty young countrywomen.

Some of the party, who were not good climbers, had been accommodated
with donkeys at the hotel, before starting for the galleries, but many
walked, and it was a long and somewhat straggling procession.

The galleries mentioned are long passageways, cut through the solid
rock, and pierced with portholes at regular intervals, so that the
gun-muzzles, which peer through them, can command town, bay, and
neutral ground. Faith, whose reverence for this old citadel grew every
minute, felt that the clatter of the donkey's heels, the gay calling
ba