第62章

Every one, I suppose, is subject to a trick of mind which often puzzles me.I am reading or thinking, and at a moment, without any association or suggestion that I can discover, there rises before me the vision of a place I know.Impossible to explain why that particular spot should show itself to my mind's eye; the cerebral impulse is so subtle that no search may trace its origin.If I am reading, doubtless a thought, a phrase, possibly a mere word, on the page before me serves to awaken memory.If I am otherwise occupied, it must be an object seen, an odour, a touch; perhaps even a posture of the body suffices to recall something in the past.Sometimes the vision passes, and there an end; sometimes, however, it has successors, the memory working quite independently of my will, and no link appearing between one scene and the next.

Ten minutes ago I was talking with my gardener.Our topic was the nature of the soil, whether or not it would suit a certain kind of vegetable.Of a sudden I found myself gazing at--the Bay of Avlona.

Quite certainly my thoughts had not strayed in that direction.The picture that came before me caused me a shock of surprise, and I am still vainly trying to discover how I came to behold it.

A happy chance that I ever saw Avlona.I was on my way from Corfu to Brindisi.The steamer sailed late in the afternoon; there was a little wind, and as the December night became chilly, I soon turned in.With the first daylight I was on deck, expecting to find that we were near the Italian port; to my surprise, I saw a mountainous shore, towards which the ship was making at full speed.On inquiry, I learnt that this was the coast of Albania; our vessel not being very seaworthy, and the wind still blowing a little (though not enough to make any passenger uncomfortable), the captain had turned back when nearly half across the Adriatic, and was seeking a haven in the shelter of the snow-topped hills.Presently we steamed into a great bay, in the narrow mouth of which lay an island.My map showed me where we were, and with no small interest I discovered that the long line of heights guarding the bay on its southern side formed the Acroceraunian Promontory.A little town visible high up on the inner shore was the ancient Aulon.

Here we anchored, and lay all day long.Provisions running short, a boat had to be sent to land, and the sailors purchased, among other things, some peculiarly detestable bread--according to them, cotto al sole.There was not a cloud in the sky; till evening, the wind whistled above our heads, but the sea about us was blue and smooth.

I sat in hot sunshine, feasting my eyes on the beautiful cliffs and valleys of the thickly-wooded shore.Then came a noble sunset; then night crept gently into the hollows of the hills, which now were coloured the deepest, richest green.A little lighthouse began to shine.In the perfect calm that had fallen, I heard breakers murmuring softly upon the beach.

At sunrise we entered the port of Brindisi.