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    Chapter 32

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    Home, again! For the first time, in many weeks, the ship's entire family
    met and shook hands on the quarter-deck. They had gathered from many
    points of the compass and from many lands, but not one was missing; there
    was no tale of sickness or death among the flock to dampen the pleasure
    of the reunion. Once more there was a full audience on deck to listen to
    the sailors' chorus as they got the anchor up, and to wave an adieu to
    the land as we sped away from Naples. The seats were full at dinner
    again, the domino parties were complete, and the life and bustle on the
    upper deck in the fine moonlight at night was like old times--old times
    that had been gone weeks only, but yet they were weeks so crowded with
    incident, adventure and excitement, that they seemed almost like years.
    There was no lack of cheerfulness on board the Quaker City. For once,
    her title was a misnomer.

    At seven in the evening, with the western horizon all golden from the
    sunken sun, and specked with distant ships, the full moon sailing high
    over head, the dark blue of the sea under foot, and a strange sort of
    twilight affected by all these different lights and colors around us and
    about us, we sighted superb Stromboli. With what majesty the monarch
    held his lonely state above the level sea! Distance clothed him in a
    purple gloom, and added a veil of shimmering mist that so softened his
    rugged features that we seemed to see him through a web of silver gauze.
    His torch was out; his fires were smoldering; a tall column of smoke that
    rose up and lost itself in the growing moonlight was all the sign he gave
    that he was a living Autocrat of the Sea and not the spectre of a dead
    one.

    At two in the morning we swept through the Straits of Messina, and so
    bright was the moonlight that Italy on the one hand and Sicily on the
    other seemed almost as distinctly visible as though we looked at them
    from the middle of a street we were traversing. The city of Messina,
    milk-white, and starred and spangled all over with gaslights, was a fairy
    spectacle. A great party of us were on deck smoking and making a noise,
    and waiting to see famous Scylla and Charybdis. And presently the Oracle
    stepped out with his eternal spy-glass and squared himself on the deck
    like another Colossus of Rhodes. It was a surprise to see him abroad at
    such an hour. Nobody supposed he cared anything about an old fable like

    that of Scylla and Charybdis. One of the boys said:

    "Hello, doctor, what are you doing up here at this time of night?--What
    do you want to see this place for?"

    "What do I want to see this place for? Young man, little do you know me,
    or you wouldn't ask such a question. I wish to see all the places that's
    mentioned in the Bible."
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