On our arrival， we entered a church， in which there were beautiful pictures in golden frames. They were pictures of angels， fair and bright； and yet our little Anastasia looked equally beautiful， as it seemed to me. In the centre of the floor stood a coffin filled with roses. My mother told me it was the Lord Jesus Christ who was represented by these roses. Then the priest announced， “Christ is risen，” and all the people GREeted each other. Each one carried a burning taper in his hand， and one was given to me， as well as to little Anastasia. The music sounded， and the people left the church hand-in-hand， with joy and gladness. Outside， the women were roasting the paschal lamb. We were invited to partake； and as I sat by the fire， a boy， older than myself， put his arms round my neck， and kissed me， and said， “Christ is risen.” And thus it was that for the first time I met Aphtanides.

　　My mother could make fishermen's nets， for which there was a GREat demand here in the bay； and we lived a long time by the side of the sea， the beautiful sea， that had a taste like tears， and in its colors reminded me of the stag that wept red tears； for sometimes its waters were red， and sometimes green or blue. Aphtanides knew how to manage our boat， and I often sat in it， with my little Anastasia， while it glided on through the water， swift as a bird flying through the air. Then， when the sun set， how beautifully， deeply blue， would be the tint on the mountains， one rising above the other in the far distance， and the summit of mount Parnassus rising above them all like a glorious crown. Its top glittered in the evening rays like molten gold， and it seemed as if the light came from within it； for long after the sun had sunk beneath the horizon， the mountain-top would glow in the clear， blue sky. The white aquatic birds skimmed the surface of the water in their flight， and all was calm and still as amid the black rocks at Delphi. I lay on my back in the boat， Anastasia leaned against me， while the stars above us glittered more brightly than the lamps in our church. They were the same stars， and in the same position over me as when I used to sit in front of our hut at Delphi， and I had almost begun to fancy I was still there， when suddenly there was a splash in the water—Anastasia had fallen in； but in a moment Aphtanides has sprung in after her， and was now holding her up to me. We dried her clothes as well as we were able， and remained on the water till they were dry； for we did not wish it to be known what a fright we had had， nor the danger which our little adopted sister had incurred， in whose life Aphtanides had now a part.

　　the summer came， and the burning heat of the sun tinted the leaves of the trees with lines of gold. I thought of our cool mountain-home， and the fresh water that flowed near it； my mother， too， longed for if， and one evening we wandered towards home. How peaceful and silent it was as we walked on through the thick， wild thyme， still fragrant， though the sun had scorched the leaves. Not a single herdsman did we meet， not a solitary hut did we pass； everything appeared lonely and deserted—only a shooting star showed that in the heavens there was yet life. I know not whether the clear， blue atmosphere gleamed with its own light， or if the radiance came from the stars； but we could distinguish quite plainly the outline of the mountains. My mother lighted a fire， and roasted some roots she had brought with her， and I and my little sister slept among the bushes， without fear of the ugly smidraki，1 from whose throat issues fire， or of the wolf and the jackal； for my mother sat by us， and I considered her presence sufficient protection.

　　We reached our old home； but the cottage was in ruins， and we had to build a new one. With the aid of some neighbors， chiefly women， the walls were in a few days erected， and very soon covered with a roof of olive-branches. My mother obtained a living by making bottle-cases of bark and skins， and I kept the sheep belonging to the priests， who were sometimes peasants，2 while I had for my playfellows Anastasia and the turtles.

　　Once our beloved Aphtanides paid us a visit. He said he had been longing to see us so much； and he remained with us two whole happy days. A month afterwards he came again to wish us good-bye， and brought with him a large fish for my mother. He told us he was going in a ship to Corfu and Patras， and could relate a GREat many stories， not only about the fishermen who lived near the gulf of Lepanto， but also of kings and heroes who had once possessed Greece， just as the Turks possess it now.

　　I have seen a bud on a rose-bush gradually， in the course of a few weeks， unfold its leaves till it became a rose in all its beauty； and， before I was aware of it， I beheld it blooming in rosy loveliness. The same thing had happened to Anastasia. Unnoticed by me， she had gradually become a beautiful maiden， and I was now also a stout， strong youth. The wolf-skins that covered the bed in which my mother and Anastasia slept， had been taken from wolves which I had myself shot.