THE DISCOVERY OF THE NEW WORLD.-No. I.

It was mid-day; a certain bustle was visible among all the inhabitants of the Castle of Cogoreo, from the saloon, in which sat an old and a young man, down to the kitchen, where were two old servants, a man and a woman, preparing the dinner; even the little boy Bartholomew seemed to be more lively than usual, and curiosity was painted on every feature.

"Oh, uncle," said he to an old man who, notwithstanding his worn-out coat and tarnished epaulettes, was evidently a naval officer of high rank, "what is the matter with papa, he seems quite put out to-day?"

"Don't disturb me, Bartholomew," replied the admiral, "but

go out and look on the Genoa road, and see if any one you know is coming.'

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Dominique," added the old sailor, addressing a middle-aged man, who seemed to be deciphering an extraordinarily folded letter with great difficulty, for the letters were of all forms and sizes, "finish reading me that letter of Christopher's, for the beginning of it gives one plenty of matter for reflection, I can assure you."

"Ah! is there a letter from Christopher?" cried Bartholomew, clapping his hands; "I must go and tell Margaret and Peter to come and listen to it. Thus saying, the child ran away, and Dominique, pushing his chair close to the admiral, whose one leg kept him rooted to the spot, thus began :—

"Pavia, August 10, 1448. "DEAR PAPA, AND YOU TOO UNCLE,-I write this to tell you I am quite well, and that my masters say I am making great progress in my geography and geometry; I cannot say the same as to my writing, which makes me fear you will not be able to read this, but if you cannot you must wait till I come home on Monday or Tuesday at the latest, when I will read it to you myself."

"And this is Wednesday," interrupted the admiral, with an anxious air.

"Yes, uncle," replied Dominique; "but there is nothing very astonishing in his not having arrived yet, for Christopher is on foot, and Peter, who brought the letter, was on horseback,—but I had better go on reading :

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Papa, and you especially, dear uncle, for it is on your support I am relying, I have something most important on which to ask your opinion. First, I must tell you, I have no taste for trade, rather the contrary, for I quite dislike it, nor have I much for science; perhaps in time I might acquire a taste for this, but there is one vocation for which I have a great longing, that is the navy; I want to be an admiral! I shall not be the first in the family, and as there is one, there may be a second. They say our family was once the most illustrious in Placentia, which must be the case, as the château we live in was given to us by the Emperor Otho. Our ancestors lost all their fortune in the Lombardy wars, and we have only lived lately by trade, but now, I mean to raise the family again! I have a name to support, and even had I not, and I were the first of my race, I would make it illustrious whatever it were, for do I not worship the same God that made a king of the shepherd David? Dear papa, I am fifteen now, pray do let me enter the navy. It is that you may grant me this favour, that I am leaving college, and coming home."

"The rest is illegible," said Dominique; "it is very odd that Christopher has not followed Peter when he was to set off so immediately after him.”

"We will call Peter," said the admiral, ringing a small handbell, "he may perhaps be able to give us some information respecting Christopher's sudden movement."

The bell had scarcely ceased ringing when the door opened, and the old sailor appeared; just over his shoulder might also have been seen the wrinkled face of an old maid-servant, whose hair was fastened up in the Genoese fashion at the top of her head by a large copper pin. "Come in, Peter; come in," cried the old admiral sharply; "what did Christopher say to you when he gave you that letter?"

"Nothing, admiral," replied the sailor, uncovering his bald head, on which were scattered a few white hairs.

Nothing! why did he not mention his intention of coming home ?"

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Yes, admiral, but not when he gave me the letter."

"What does it matter when he told you, if he said it at all? Now tell me all about it at once."

"Now, sir, this is what happened," said Peter, making a strong emphasis on his words, as if he were about to relate the tragical tale of a naval combat; "you know, perhaps, that I went to Pavia, mounted on the mare Minetta, who has the roughest trot I ever felt! I would rather a thousand times go from Spain to Portugal in the worst little boat than go back to Pavia on Minetta's back. Well, to go back to my story: the wind being fair, I embarked—at least, I got the beast off in a trot.—When I got to Pavia, I was in an uncomfortable state enough, owing to the creature's rough motion; for you know, sir, that-beg your pardon, sir, that-in short I have often been to sea, but I have never been in this condition before."

Repressing a smile, Dominique said, "A truce to your reflections, Peter, and go on with your account."

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Beg pardon, sir," replied the sailor, "but it is my log-book; I must not forget anything, and I must speak the truth."

"I could take half the ports in Spain, Peter," interrupted the admiral, "while you are talking."

"Well, well, sir, I will proceed to my arrival at the college. Good morning, Peter,' said master Christopher, when I entered the playground, where there were about two thousand children-what am I saying? five or six hundred I mean, who were making such a noise. How are they all at home,' he inquired. They are all well,' I replied, 'except that your uncle the admiral has the gout in his remaining foot; your father has his usual headaches; little

Bartholomew has the indigestion, from eating too many chestnuts; the dog Jeremy is dead, poor creature--but every one has his turn, to-day it is him, to-morrow me, perhaps; and the day after, perhaps, you-who knows?" "

"What an old fool you are!" muttered the old maid-servant in Peter's ear.

"Much obliged, Mrs. Margaret," replied Peter; "I told Master Christopher that you would not suffer any more from your mouth, as, fortunately for you and us, you had lost your last remaining tooth since he left home for Pavia."

"What amount of patience do you think we possess?" interrupted Dominique; "reply once for all to my question; did Christopher tell you he was going to leave college?"

"Yes, sir, that was exactly what I was about to tell you and the admiral. One of the first things my young master said was, 'Peter, will you take me back to the castle with you?'

"And pray why did you not bring him?" asked Dominique, quickly.

"Yes! why did not you bring him, you old fool?" whispered Miss Margaret in his ear. Peter gave her a look of thunder; then, bowing with the most profound respect before Signor Dominique, he replied, "Because I had received no orders to do so, sir." "Right," said the admiral.

Christopher's father, however, paid no attention to this remark, and only said anxiously, "I know my son; he told you he would come alone."

"He did, sir," replied Peter, composedly; "but my orders were to take the mare, to get on her, and go to Pavia to take the packet to Christopher, and to return immediately; these orders I executed to the letter."

"But one could not foresee that the child would want to come home with you."

"With all due respect to Signor Dominique," said the old sailor, "I think this proves the advantage the sea has over the land, for at sea one provides for all emergencies."

No answer was made to this observation of the old sailor's, for at this moment cries of joy were heard in the court-yard.

"There is Christopher! there is Christopher!" cried Bartholomew's happy voice, and at the same moment in rushed a young boy, tall, thin, of a bright complexion, red hair, and with clothes

covered with dust.

"How do you do, uncle?" said he, kissing the admiral's hand;

"how do you do, father?" added he, throwing himself into his father's arms. "Well, Peter, is Minetta rested? Are you quite well, Margaret?"

"Good morning, sir; how are you? Why did you leave school?"

"Ah, it was not Minetta that was the most tired, I can assure you, Master Christopher."

All these replies to his salutations, were uttered at once.

"Have you read my letter, papa?" was Christopher's next question. "The beginning I have, but as for the end of it, it was impossible, my dear."

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Very likely, for my pen was so old, that it had only one nib left. But I hope, dear father, you are not angry with me." "Ah, Christopher, you take advantage of my affection for you,' said Signor Dominique, while the admiral, drawing his little nephew close to him, said in a tone which was evidently one of pleasure, notwithstanding all his endeavours to make it serious

"Well, little fellow, so you want to be an admiral ?”

"And why should not I be one?" replied Christopher, naïvely; "you are one."

"Dear Christopher," said the little Bartholomew, standing on tiptoe to whisper into his brother's ear, "when you are an admiral you will make me something, won't you?"

"What! do you want to be a sailor, too?" said the admiral, giving a friendly tap to Bartholomew's round ruddy cheeks.

"I will be whatever my brother is," said the child, in a determined tone.

"And you are right, young gentlemen!" cried the old sailor Peter, not being able to contain his enthusiasm any longer. "The sea, you see, is the finest of all the elements; when she is calm, she is fine; when she is rough, she is fine; and when there is a storm, ah, it is magnificent then! . . . . . No, the land is not to be compared to the sea-is it, admiral ?"

"Uncle, when we are alone, I have a question to ask you," whispered Christopher to his uncle.

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Why not say it at once?" replied he.

"No," said Christopher, "it is too serious to be said before everybody; besides, other people would laugh at me, perhaps, but you"

A sign of intelligence passed between the uncle and the nephew, and, the sound of the great bell announcing dinner, all conversation ceased.