But they were to find
themselves mistaken. It proved to be, indeed, an English chapel, but
it was still more--a memorial to all English-speaking people who once
suffered martyrdom in this city, when it boasted its thousands of
Christian slaves brought from doomed vessels by the dreaded Corsairs;
also of those who have died more happily, as free men, in later years.
As they strolled quietly about the interesting building, beneath the
stained-glass windows, reading these various records, which are
inscribed on precious marbles in high colors, that make a dado around
the walls, Hope gave a little cry and eagerly beckoned Dwight, who had
fallen behind. He came at once, and both read with intense
satisfaction a glowing tribute to a certain American consul from our
own United States, who once "rendered eminent services to the British
nation"--so read the inscription--by friendly help to the British
Consul, who was held in chains by the Dey, and his family expelled to
lonely and terrified isolation far in the interior. A grateful nation
had erected the tablet.
"Good!" whispered Dwight, then as if to relieve their excited feelings,
the two gravely shook hands.
"What means this ceremony?" asked Mr. Lawrence with amusement, as he
looked on surprisedly, and Dwight, pointing to the mural tablet,
answered with dignity,
"We were just showing our pride in our two countries, uncle," and in
spite of the disarray caused by his little unpleasantness with the
monkey, Dwight at that moment looked so noble that his uncle could not
help a quick, "Bless you, my boy!" as he laid a hand lovingly upon the
lad's shoulder.
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