Chapter Twenty.

Chapter Twenty.We left Ada Garden virtually a prisoner on board a vessel which she believed a Greek man-of-war. Day after day the voyage continued without the anchor being dropped. Sometimes the vessel was steered in one direction, sometimes in another; but, as she judged by the appearance of the sun, as it was seen from the cabin windows at sunset, they were verging towards the east and north. Fortunately the weather continued fine, and they were able to have the ports open the whole of the day, which in a slight degree made her amends for being deprived of the free air of the deck. Generally, also, the wind was fair, when it came in cool and refreshing through the ports; but some days it blew more ahead, and then Ada could feel the vessel heel over as the canvas felt its force; and, at times, she judged that they were beating along some coast, or through a narrow passage, as the continuation of the same land was seen on every alternate tack.Signor Paolo had visited the cabin every day; but he was silent and reserved as at first, and she failed to obtain any information from him—though, latterly, she thought he appeared as if he would have spoken more; but, each time he was about to do so, fear seemed to make him hesitate, and he said nothing.Her health, under his judicious treatment, had gradually improved till she had recovered as much of her accustomed strength as she could expect to do, without the benefit of more air and exercise than she could enjoy in the cabin. But her spirits remained much depressed at the uncertainty of her own future fate, of that of her uncle, and with the thoughts of the anguish she knew Fleetwood would endure at her loss.“Could I but let him know,” she thought, “that I am alive, and am suffering no great inconvenience, oh, how it would relieve my heart!”She little thought that at that very time her lover was scouring the seas on board his ship in search of her.At last the vessel was once more before the wind, slowly gliding through the water. There seemed to her more bustle and animation than usual on deck. The faint sound of a gun came off from the shore—it was answered by a loud report from on board, accompanied by a wild cheer from those on deck; and, a short time afterwards she felt that the anchor was let go; strange voices were heard alongside—and looking out of the stern-ports, high cliffs arose before her eyes. She and Marianna continued gazing out of their prison at the strange scent before them, and at the number of boats filled with uncouth, savage-looking beings pulling in boats round the ship. Among others, one appeared to leave the vessel and take a direct course towards the shore.“Oh! signora, look there—look there!” cried Marianna. “There is Signor Paolo going to leave us.”Ada did look, but her eye scarcely rested on Paolo, for it caught sight of one who sat next to him in the boat. She grasped her attendant’s arm as she whispered, “My worst fears are realised. There goes the pirate Zappa, and we are his prisoners.”“Oh! don’t say such a thing, signora,” cried Marianna, trembling; “I shall die of fright. Yet, surely he could not have had any command on board such a quiet, well-ordered vessel as this has been?”“I fear that I am not mistaken in his identity—and his appearance explains everything,” said Ada. “What can he intend now by leaving the vessel? Try the doors and see if we are still prisoners in the cabin.”Marianna found the door closed as before, and she and her mistress sat down more alarmed than they had been hitherto; Ada feeling that her last hope of escape had vanished.They remained thus for some time, till they were startled by the abrupt entrance of Paolo into the cabin. He apologised, on seeing Ada’s look of surprise.“Pardon me, signora; I have been sent by the captain of the ship to express his regret that your apartments on shore are not arranged, and to regret that you will have to remain some time longer on board.”“Excuses are superfluous, when no choice is allowed me but to obey,” returned Ada, with more haughtiness in her manner than usual; for, having seen Paolo in company with the pirate, she could no longer regard him in the same light she had before done.The young man seemed at once to observe and feel the change.“I deeply regret, signora, that you should have cause to complain,” he exclaimed, in a voice in which sorrow mingled with passion; “but, oh! believe me, that I am not more free than you, and act under the orders of one who has the power to compel were I to prove disobedient.”“I believe you,” said Ada; “and now tell me, who is this person who ventures to hold me a prisoner?”“You will know too soon, lady, but my lips must not inform you,” returned Paolo. “However, if it can afford you any satisfaction to know it, be assured that I will watch carefully over you, and that my directions are, not to quit the vessel except to accompany you on shore.”“It must be a satisfaction to those in distress to know that they have a friend who interests himself in their welfare,” replied Ada, in a softened tone, as Paolo, with an inclination of his head, withdrew.For two whole days did Ada Garden and her attendant remain inmates of the vessel. On the third Paolo made his appearance to announce that accommodation was prepared for them on shore, and that a boat was waiting alongside the vessel to convey them there. For the first time Ada stepped on the deck of the vessel, and, after having been shut up so long below, the full, bright glare of the sun almost dazzled her eyes, and prevented her seeing objects clearly. As she recovered her sight, she observed that the vessel, on board which she had spent so long a time, was a brig, that she was in beautiful order, and had eight guns run out on either side. A few seamen in Greek costume were employed in the fore part of the vessel in repairing the rigging, but none of them took the slightest notice of her, as Paolo handed her to the gangway, followed by Marianna. At his summons two men came aft, and brought up her boxes from below, which were lowered into the boat alongside, into which he then assisted her and her attendant. He then gave the signal to shove off, and a few strokes of the oars carried the boat to the shore. Ada looked round her with surprise at the wild beauty and perfect tranquillity of the scene. In the centre of the bay lay the brig at anchor, her hull and tall masts, and the tracery of her spars and rigging reflected in the calm clear water. Her sails were closely furled, and no one appeared above the bulwarks to show that she was tenanted by human beings. The two misticoes lay inside of her, without sign of any one being on board them, and the boats belonging to the cove were drawn up on the beach, but the fishermen had deserted their nets, and not a person appeared in any direction. She gazed up at the lofty cliffs, and at the picturesque ravine towards which Paolo pointed, as they landed, to indicate their path, at the same time expressing his regret that there were no means of conveying her up it except by a litter borne by men.The perfect calmness of the whole scene, its unusual beauty, and the freshness of the air served to reassure her, and she began to experience an elasticity of spirits she had not for a long time felt. Paolo led her up the path I have before described, to the platform on the summit of the cliffs on which the ruined castle stood.“This is a wild spot, lady, but not wanting in beauty; and the tower you see before you is to be your abode while you remain on the island,” said Paolo, pointing to a tower which was nearer the causeway, and had not so extensive a view as the one I have described, but yet it overlooked the sea, and more of the interior of the island. Paolo knocked at a door at the base, and it was opened by the young Greek girl Mila, who saluted the strangers with a smile of welcome, and then led them away up a flight of steps to an upper story, where, throwing open another door, she ushered them into a chamber, at the appearance of which Ada could not help uttering an exclamation of surprise; and Marianna, who had completely lost all her fears in company with Signor Paolo, clapped her hands with delight. The time had, indeed, been well employed, which had, since their arrival, converted that ruined tower into so magnificent an abode.The pirate must have ransacked all his stores of silks and satins to fit up the room.“The roof has probably been formed some time, but all else has been accomplished during the last three days,” said Paolo, as they entered. “That was the reason, lady, of your not landing before.”The style was very similar to that of the other tower; but the hangings were, perhaps, richer, and the carpets more valuable; attention had been paid to what might be supposed English taste. There were a greater number of tables and chairs, and there was even a book-case fastened against the wall, though the books it contained were few, and not of a very select description.There were two guitars and a music-book on one of the tables, and the walls were adorned with pictures, and a magnificent silver lamp hung from the centre; and, indeed, everything had been done to give the room a cheerful and habitable appearance. On either side were curtains across a corner of the room; and, on drawing them, Ada perceived that there were couches arranged, and furnished with the finest linen, showing that the chamber was intended for their exclusive residence, perhaps also, their prison. Mila busied herself in showing the arrangements of the room, and Paolo explained that she was anxious to serve the stranger in the best way she could. Ada intimated that she could not but be satisfied with the care taken for her comfort, and Paolo, suspecting that she would prefer being left alone, called Mila, and took his departure.Paolo had been gone some time, when a knock at the door was heard, and Marianna ran to open it. As she did so, she started back with a cry of surprise, for there stood before her the pirate Zappa.Ada rose as she saw him, for she felt that, from the first, it would be necessary to assume a dignity and fearlessness of manner, in order to gain any influence over him.“The Prince Argiri Caramitzo, I believe I have the honour of seeing,” she said, bowing.“The same, signora, who has the happiness of welcoming you to Greece, and has had that of rescuing you from a great danger,” replied Zappa, in his most courteous tone, advancing a step only into the chamber. “He now comes to express a hope that you are satisfied with the arrangements made for you, and will be contented to remain an inhabitant of this island till communications can be opened with your friends, in order to restore you to them.”“I need not tell you, prince, that I am most anxious to communicate with my friends, and must beg you to tell me by what means I can do so,” said Ada.“The opportunity will, doubtless, soon occur,” replied the pirate. “But, in the mean time, I have to assure you that I have taken measures to let your friends know of your safety—though, for reasons which I may hereafter explain to you, not the place of your abode.”“I understand you, signor; and I beg now to thank you for the courtesy and delicacy with which you have treated me,” said Ada. “And I will ask you as a farther favour, to tell me what has become of the relative who left Malta with me. Is he still living?”As she spoke her voice trembled, and a tear started in her eye.“Indeed, lady, I would gladly answer your question if I could. I know nothing of your relative,” replied Zappa. “But I am wearying you with my presence. I came but to ascertain that you were satisfied with such humble accommodation as I could afford you, and will no longer intrude myself on your presence. Lady, farewell; and should any suspicions enter your mind about me, I entreat you to banish them; and to believe that, however much appearances are against me, I am not guilty.”It would be difficult to describe the tone with which those words were uttered, or the polished bow Zappa gave as he quitted the room, fully believing that he had made a great stride in winning over the feelings of his prisoner, to look on him with regard.A whole day passed away without the appearance of Paolo, or any person except little Mila. The young Greek girl was her only attendant, besides Marianna; but as she could not make herself understood, she seldom remained long together in the room. Had she even not felt herself a prisoner, the day would have passed wearily away with so few means of amusing herself at her disposal. She examined the books which had been placed on the shelves: they were mostly Italian, though she recognised a few as having been on board theZodiac. In vain, however, she tried to give her attention to them, for whenever she did so her thoughts wandered away till they were lost in the painful reflection which her position naturally suggested. Among her luggage were the means of employing herself in such fancy-work as was the fashion in those days, but she soon threw it down in despair, as rather increasing than relieving her anxiety.Such was not the case with Marianna, who quickly recovered her spirits, and plied her needle with her usual diligence, and laughed and sang, as if nothing out of the way had occurred. One of her great sources of pleasure was, in the intervals of her work, to look through a telescope which Paolo had placed in the room; it was on a brass stand, and had been, probably, among the cargo of some vessel plundered by Zappa or his associates. The view, as I have said, from the window, extended over a wide range of sea, along the greater part of the east side of the island and into the interior; and a glimpse could just be caught of the mouth of the harbour, though the vessels lying there were not visible. It was in the afternoon of the second day after their arrival that Marianna was amusing herself with looking through the glass, when she uttered an exclamation of delight.“Oh, signora, signora—do come, and look!” she cried. “There is a vessel coming to the island; for I see her white sails just rising out of the water. She is coming to take us home—I know she is.”Ada flew to the telescope—her heart beating with agitation at the very mention of release, though her hopes were not so sanguine as those of her damsel. She looked earnestly for some time at the sail which Marianna had observed; but, as she withdrew her eye from the tube, she shook her head with a look of disappointment.“The sail looks very small,” she said. “So I fear, Marianna, it cannot be a ship of war, and no other can afford us assistance.”“Oh, but it is yet a long way off, signora,” urged the Maltese girl. “When it comes nearer it will appear much bigger, as I have often observed from the windows of your uncle’s house in Valetta a little sail no bigger than a pocket-handkerchief, which has grown larger, and larger, and larger, till it has become a mighty ship with a hundred great guns looking out of her sides. Who knows but what this may turn out a big ship sent out by the King of England, with Signor Fleetwood as captain, to look after you? My heart tells me that she is a friend.”Ada smiled mournfully at her young attendant’s over sanguine prognostications, in which she could so little participate.“I fear you are wrong in this case, my good Marianna,” she answered. “You observe that the vessel we see is small, but we can already distinguish three distinct sails, and soon the hull itself will rise out of the water, and then we shall be better able to judge of its proper dimensions. I can already see her without the glass. Tell me if the bulwarks are not in sight.”“Yes, signora, I can distinguish the dark mark of the body of the vessel, and she seems to come on quickly towards us,” answered the Maltese girl, who was bending down upon a table drawn towards the window, with her eye to the glass.The vessel they were looking at was rather to the west of the island, towards which she was standing close-hauled beating up against an easterly wind, bound probably up the Dardanelles. The sea was calm, and glittering in the sunbeams, which gave it the appearance of a plain of molten silver sprinkled with diamonds—for to nothing else can I compare its dazzling lustre. The breeze had been uncertain all the morning, now so light as not to disturb the mirror-like surface of the sea, now freshening up again so as to send the vessel along rapidly through the water. It had, however, lately, in shore, given signs of dying away altogether. The stranger stood on till she fetched up, almost looking into the mouth of the concealed cove, either totally unconscious of the danger of her proceeding, or indifferent to the consequences.The latter could scarcely be the case; for, as Ada again looked at her through the telescope, she observed that she was a vessel apparently of little more than a hundred-and-twenty or thirty tons burden. Her rig was that of a brigantine—the foremast having the top and spars of a brig, the mainmast carrying fore-and-aft sails like a schooner. When she had stood in within a quarter of a mile of the shore she tacked, either fearing to get becalmed should she approach nearer, or being, uncertain of the depth of water. If it was to avoid the former inconvenience, it was too late, for, scarcely had she gone about than her sails flapped idly against the masts, and she lay unable to make any way at all.Ada was now convinced that she was a stranger—a merchantman, probably, as she judged by the cut of the sails, the short yards, and the few men who appeared on her decks. She had two guns, it is true, but they were of little weight of metal, and could have been of slight use in repelling a really determined attack.Ada trembled for her fate, when she recollected her suspicions of the lawless character of the inhabitants of the island. As she was watching the persons on the deck of the vessel, she saw that there was suddenly some confusion among them; several persons hurried from below, and some appeared to be surveying the mouth of the harbour with their telescopes. The cause was soon apparent, for as she looked in that direction, a long low dark object was seen to steal out from behind the rocks, like a snake from the grass, and dart towards them.It was one of the misticoes, with her yards and sails stowed along the deck, and impelled by twenty long oars, pulled by twice that number of men, while as many more stood in the after part, and at the bows, with their matchlocks in their hands ready for use. In the bow, also, was a long brass gun on a swivel, pointed towards the doomed vessel.The stranger was, however, manned by no cowardly hearts. As soon as they saw the nature of their enemy, they cast loose their two guns, loaded them, and ran them both out on the port side, which was the one then bearing on the shore. They knew that escape was impossible, and that they had little hope of mercy, so they lost no time in firing, on the chance of striking the enemy between wind and water, and compelling him to return. Unhappily, neither shot told with much useful effect. One struck the water just ahead of her, the other hit her gunnel and killed two of the people, which only exasperated the others, and made them pull the harder to get on board before receiving any other similar visitors.“Oh! Jesu Maria,” exclaimed Marianna, hiding her eyes in her hands. “What can be the reason that the vessel there should fire at the boat?”“I am afraid we shall be witnesses of a dreadful scene,” said Ada; “and yet I cannot withdraw my eyes from it. Oh! what will become of the poor people on board the vessel if those wretches in the mistico get near her? See! they are my countrymen, too, for there flies the red ensign of England.”The ensign had been hoisted as the brigantine fired; but while watching the Greek vessel she had not observed it. The English, undaunted, set up a loud cheer, as they again run out their guns; but the pirates, taught by experience, pulled round under her stern, where her guns could not reach them, and let fly their own long pieces at them. As they were much lower than she was, the shot injured no one on deck; but flew through the fore-topsail. They did not again attempt to fire; but trusting to their vast superiority of numbers, they dashed boldly alongside, with the object of carrying her by boarding. The English had time to get one of their guns over to the starboard side, on which the mistico boarded them, and to fire directly down into her, before the pirates were able to leap up their side.It was too late, however, to save them. The Greeks swarmed over the bows and quarters, and up the side, their swords in their teeth, and though the English seamen fought in a manner worthy of their name, Ada saw, with anguish, that they were quickly cut down or overpowered, pressed upon by overwhelming numbers, and in three minutes the islanders had full possession of the vessel. It made her heart sick as she beheld the catastrophe, which she had hoped against probability, might have been averted. Intensely interested as she was to learn the fate of her countrymen, her agitation prevented her from seeing more, and obliged her to withdraw her eyes from the painful sight. Marianna, however, took her place at the telescope.“Oh, signora!” she exclaimed, “the saints protect us! But those cruel wretches are throwing the bodies of the poor English they have murdered overboard, before even their hearts can have ceased to throb. Wicked villains! I hope they won’t treat the living in the same way.”“I’m afraid none remained alive,” said Ada, shuddering. “But what are they doing now?”“They seem engaged in making their own vessel fast to the other, to prevent her from sinking, I suppose. I wish they may both go down to the bottom together. It would serve the wretches right.”“God will punish them in His own good time, or the power of civilised nations will be exerted to perform His will,” replied Ada. “Our religion teaches us, remember, not to wish evil even to our worst enemies. But, ah, there comes out the other mistico to the assistance of their friends.”In a short time the last-named vessel had reached the brigantine, and as soon as she was lashed alongside, all hands were busily engaged in transferring the cargo to their own craft, for they had managed to stop the shot-hole in the side of the one which had been engaged. The brigantine’s anchor had been dropped, and her sails clewed up; and as soon as the two misticoes were laden, they returned to the harbour. In another hour or so, they were again alongside the prize, and engaged in their work of plunder. They laboured hard till they had transferred everything of value from her hold, and they then commenced stripping her masts of the sails and rigging; and in collecting other things from her deck and cabin which might be useful—not forgetting her guns, and her small store of powder and shot. By the time they had completed their work the sun had set, and loaded with plunder they returned to port. As they left the side of the unfortunate vessel, a shout of exultation escaped them; and soon after, Ada perceived through the gloom a thick smoke ascending from the hatchways, followed quickly by forked flames, which leaped upwards, and rapidly enveloped the masts and lower, rigging. The whole hull was rapidly in a blaze, which lighted up with a lurid glare the two misticoes; the grim visages of their fierce crew, their red caps, and varied-coloured costume being clearly visible at that distance through the telescope. The fiery tinge falling also on the rocky cliffs, and the towers and walls of the castle, and converting the tranquil surface of the ocean into, seemingly, a sea of blood.The brigantine burned fiercely—there must have been some inflammable substance which had formed part of her cargo remaining in her hold. From the two small stern-ports, which had been left open, the flames burst forth in jets of fire, as also from every hatchway, fore and aft, till the decks fell in, and the masts, like two pillars of fire, came rushing down, and hissing into the water. At length the empty hull sunk beneath the surface, and all was again dark.“I fear, signora, we are in a complete nest of pirates,” said Marianna, breaking the silence which she had maintained after the catastrophe.“I fear so, too,” replied Ada; “but that burning vessel may prove a beacon to light our friends to our rescue.”

We left Ada Garden virtually a prisoner on board a vessel which she believed a Greek man-of-war. Day after day the voyage continued without the anchor being dropped. Sometimes the vessel was steered in one direction, sometimes in another; but, as she judged by the appearance of the sun, as it was seen from the cabin windows at sunset, they were verging towards the east and north. Fortunately the weather continued fine, and they were able to have the ports open the whole of the day, which in a slight degree made her amends for being deprived of the free air of the deck. Generally, also, the wind was fair, when it came in cool and refreshing through the ports; but some days it blew more ahead, and then Ada could feel the vessel heel over as the canvas felt its force; and, at times, she judged that they were beating along some coast, or through a narrow passage, as the continuation of the same land was seen on every alternate tack.

Signor Paolo had visited the cabin every day; but he was silent and reserved as at first, and she failed to obtain any information from him—though, latterly, she thought he appeared as if he would have spoken more; but, each time he was about to do so, fear seemed to make him hesitate, and he said nothing.

Her health, under his judicious treatment, had gradually improved till she had recovered as much of her accustomed strength as she could expect to do, without the benefit of more air and exercise than she could enjoy in the cabin. But her spirits remained much depressed at the uncertainty of her own future fate, of that of her uncle, and with the thoughts of the anguish she knew Fleetwood would endure at her loss.

“Could I but let him know,” she thought, “that I am alive, and am suffering no great inconvenience, oh, how it would relieve my heart!”

She little thought that at that very time her lover was scouring the seas on board his ship in search of her.

At last the vessel was once more before the wind, slowly gliding through the water. There seemed to her more bustle and animation than usual on deck. The faint sound of a gun came off from the shore—it was answered by a loud report from on board, accompanied by a wild cheer from those on deck; and, a short time afterwards she felt that the anchor was let go; strange voices were heard alongside—and looking out of the stern-ports, high cliffs arose before her eyes. She and Marianna continued gazing out of their prison at the strange scent before them, and at the number of boats filled with uncouth, savage-looking beings pulling in boats round the ship. Among others, one appeared to leave the vessel and take a direct course towards the shore.

“Oh! signora, look there—look there!” cried Marianna. “There is Signor Paolo going to leave us.”

Ada did look, but her eye scarcely rested on Paolo, for it caught sight of one who sat next to him in the boat. She grasped her attendant’s arm as she whispered, “My worst fears are realised. There goes the pirate Zappa, and we are his prisoners.”

“Oh! don’t say such a thing, signora,” cried Marianna, trembling; “I shall die of fright. Yet, surely he could not have had any command on board such a quiet, well-ordered vessel as this has been?”

“I fear that I am not mistaken in his identity—and his appearance explains everything,” said Ada. “What can he intend now by leaving the vessel? Try the doors and see if we are still prisoners in the cabin.”

Marianna found the door closed as before, and she and her mistress sat down more alarmed than they had been hitherto; Ada feeling that her last hope of escape had vanished.

They remained thus for some time, till they were startled by the abrupt entrance of Paolo into the cabin. He apologised, on seeing Ada’s look of surprise.

“Pardon me, signora; I have been sent by the captain of the ship to express his regret that your apartments on shore are not arranged, and to regret that you will have to remain some time longer on board.”

“Excuses are superfluous, when no choice is allowed me but to obey,” returned Ada, with more haughtiness in her manner than usual; for, having seen Paolo in company with the pirate, she could no longer regard him in the same light she had before done.

The young man seemed at once to observe and feel the change.

“I deeply regret, signora, that you should have cause to complain,” he exclaimed, in a voice in which sorrow mingled with passion; “but, oh! believe me, that I am not more free than you, and act under the orders of one who has the power to compel were I to prove disobedient.”

“I believe you,” said Ada; “and now tell me, who is this person who ventures to hold me a prisoner?”

“You will know too soon, lady, but my lips must not inform you,” returned Paolo. “However, if it can afford you any satisfaction to know it, be assured that I will watch carefully over you, and that my directions are, not to quit the vessel except to accompany you on shore.”

“It must be a satisfaction to those in distress to know that they have a friend who interests himself in their welfare,” replied Ada, in a softened tone, as Paolo, with an inclination of his head, withdrew.

For two whole days did Ada Garden and her attendant remain inmates of the vessel. On the third Paolo made his appearance to announce that accommodation was prepared for them on shore, and that a boat was waiting alongside the vessel to convey them there. For the first time Ada stepped on the deck of the vessel, and, after having been shut up so long below, the full, bright glare of the sun almost dazzled her eyes, and prevented her seeing objects clearly. As she recovered her sight, she observed that the vessel, on board which she had spent so long a time, was a brig, that she was in beautiful order, and had eight guns run out on either side. A few seamen in Greek costume were employed in the fore part of the vessel in repairing the rigging, but none of them took the slightest notice of her, as Paolo handed her to the gangway, followed by Marianna. At his summons two men came aft, and brought up her boxes from below, which were lowered into the boat alongside, into which he then assisted her and her attendant. He then gave the signal to shove off, and a few strokes of the oars carried the boat to the shore. Ada looked round her with surprise at the wild beauty and perfect tranquillity of the scene. In the centre of the bay lay the brig at anchor, her hull and tall masts, and the tracery of her spars and rigging reflected in the calm clear water. Her sails were closely furled, and no one appeared above the bulwarks to show that she was tenanted by human beings. The two misticoes lay inside of her, without sign of any one being on board them, and the boats belonging to the cove were drawn up on the beach, but the fishermen had deserted their nets, and not a person appeared in any direction. She gazed up at the lofty cliffs, and at the picturesque ravine towards which Paolo pointed, as they landed, to indicate their path, at the same time expressing his regret that there were no means of conveying her up it except by a litter borne by men.

The perfect calmness of the whole scene, its unusual beauty, and the freshness of the air served to reassure her, and she began to experience an elasticity of spirits she had not for a long time felt. Paolo led her up the path I have before described, to the platform on the summit of the cliffs on which the ruined castle stood.

“This is a wild spot, lady, but not wanting in beauty; and the tower you see before you is to be your abode while you remain on the island,” said Paolo, pointing to a tower which was nearer the causeway, and had not so extensive a view as the one I have described, but yet it overlooked the sea, and more of the interior of the island. Paolo knocked at a door at the base, and it was opened by the young Greek girl Mila, who saluted the strangers with a smile of welcome, and then led them away up a flight of steps to an upper story, where, throwing open another door, she ushered them into a chamber, at the appearance of which Ada could not help uttering an exclamation of surprise; and Marianna, who had completely lost all her fears in company with Signor Paolo, clapped her hands with delight. The time had, indeed, been well employed, which had, since their arrival, converted that ruined tower into so magnificent an abode.

The pirate must have ransacked all his stores of silks and satins to fit up the room.

“The roof has probably been formed some time, but all else has been accomplished during the last three days,” said Paolo, as they entered. “That was the reason, lady, of your not landing before.”

The style was very similar to that of the other tower; but the hangings were, perhaps, richer, and the carpets more valuable; attention had been paid to what might be supposed English taste. There were a greater number of tables and chairs, and there was even a book-case fastened against the wall, though the books it contained were few, and not of a very select description.

There were two guitars and a music-book on one of the tables, and the walls were adorned with pictures, and a magnificent silver lamp hung from the centre; and, indeed, everything had been done to give the room a cheerful and habitable appearance. On either side were curtains across a corner of the room; and, on drawing them, Ada perceived that there were couches arranged, and furnished with the finest linen, showing that the chamber was intended for their exclusive residence, perhaps also, their prison. Mila busied herself in showing the arrangements of the room, and Paolo explained that she was anxious to serve the stranger in the best way she could. Ada intimated that she could not but be satisfied with the care taken for her comfort, and Paolo, suspecting that she would prefer being left alone, called Mila, and took his departure.

Paolo had been gone some time, when a knock at the door was heard, and Marianna ran to open it. As she did so, she started back with a cry of surprise, for there stood before her the pirate Zappa.

Ada rose as she saw him, for she felt that, from the first, it would be necessary to assume a dignity and fearlessness of manner, in order to gain any influence over him.

“The Prince Argiri Caramitzo, I believe I have the honour of seeing,” she said, bowing.

“The same, signora, who has the happiness of welcoming you to Greece, and has had that of rescuing you from a great danger,” replied Zappa, in his most courteous tone, advancing a step only into the chamber. “He now comes to express a hope that you are satisfied with the arrangements made for you, and will be contented to remain an inhabitant of this island till communications can be opened with your friends, in order to restore you to them.”

“I need not tell you, prince, that I am most anxious to communicate with my friends, and must beg you to tell me by what means I can do so,” said Ada.

“The opportunity will, doubtless, soon occur,” replied the pirate. “But, in the mean time, I have to assure you that I have taken measures to let your friends know of your safety—though, for reasons which I may hereafter explain to you, not the place of your abode.”

“I understand you, signor; and I beg now to thank you for the courtesy and delicacy with which you have treated me,” said Ada. “And I will ask you as a farther favour, to tell me what has become of the relative who left Malta with me. Is he still living?”

As she spoke her voice trembled, and a tear started in her eye.

“Indeed, lady, I would gladly answer your question if I could. I know nothing of your relative,” replied Zappa. “But I am wearying you with my presence. I came but to ascertain that you were satisfied with such humble accommodation as I could afford you, and will no longer intrude myself on your presence. Lady, farewell; and should any suspicions enter your mind about me, I entreat you to banish them; and to believe that, however much appearances are against me, I am not guilty.”

It would be difficult to describe the tone with which those words were uttered, or the polished bow Zappa gave as he quitted the room, fully believing that he had made a great stride in winning over the feelings of his prisoner, to look on him with regard.

A whole day passed away without the appearance of Paolo, or any person except little Mila. The young Greek girl was her only attendant, besides Marianna; but as she could not make herself understood, she seldom remained long together in the room. Had she even not felt herself a prisoner, the day would have passed wearily away with so few means of amusing herself at her disposal. She examined the books which had been placed on the shelves: they were mostly Italian, though she recognised a few as having been on board theZodiac. In vain, however, she tried to give her attention to them, for whenever she did so her thoughts wandered away till they were lost in the painful reflection which her position naturally suggested. Among her luggage were the means of employing herself in such fancy-work as was the fashion in those days, but she soon threw it down in despair, as rather increasing than relieving her anxiety.

Such was not the case with Marianna, who quickly recovered her spirits, and plied her needle with her usual diligence, and laughed and sang, as if nothing out of the way had occurred. One of her great sources of pleasure was, in the intervals of her work, to look through a telescope which Paolo had placed in the room; it was on a brass stand, and had been, probably, among the cargo of some vessel plundered by Zappa or his associates. The view, as I have said, from the window, extended over a wide range of sea, along the greater part of the east side of the island and into the interior; and a glimpse could just be caught of the mouth of the harbour, though the vessels lying there were not visible. It was in the afternoon of the second day after their arrival that Marianna was amusing herself with looking through the glass, when she uttered an exclamation of delight.

“Oh, signora, signora—do come, and look!” she cried. “There is a vessel coming to the island; for I see her white sails just rising out of the water. She is coming to take us home—I know she is.”

Ada flew to the telescope—her heart beating with agitation at the very mention of release, though her hopes were not so sanguine as those of her damsel. She looked earnestly for some time at the sail which Marianna had observed; but, as she withdrew her eye from the tube, she shook her head with a look of disappointment.

“The sail looks very small,” she said. “So I fear, Marianna, it cannot be a ship of war, and no other can afford us assistance.”

“Oh, but it is yet a long way off, signora,” urged the Maltese girl. “When it comes nearer it will appear much bigger, as I have often observed from the windows of your uncle’s house in Valetta a little sail no bigger than a pocket-handkerchief, which has grown larger, and larger, and larger, till it has become a mighty ship with a hundred great guns looking out of her sides. Who knows but what this may turn out a big ship sent out by the King of England, with Signor Fleetwood as captain, to look after you? My heart tells me that she is a friend.”

Ada smiled mournfully at her young attendant’s over sanguine prognostications, in which she could so little participate.

“I fear you are wrong in this case, my good Marianna,” she answered. “You observe that the vessel we see is small, but we can already distinguish three distinct sails, and soon the hull itself will rise out of the water, and then we shall be better able to judge of its proper dimensions. I can already see her without the glass. Tell me if the bulwarks are not in sight.”

“Yes, signora, I can distinguish the dark mark of the body of the vessel, and she seems to come on quickly towards us,” answered the Maltese girl, who was bending down upon a table drawn towards the window, with her eye to the glass.

The vessel they were looking at was rather to the west of the island, towards which she was standing close-hauled beating up against an easterly wind, bound probably up the Dardanelles. The sea was calm, and glittering in the sunbeams, which gave it the appearance of a plain of molten silver sprinkled with diamonds—for to nothing else can I compare its dazzling lustre. The breeze had been uncertain all the morning, now so light as not to disturb the mirror-like surface of the sea, now freshening up again so as to send the vessel along rapidly through the water. It had, however, lately, in shore, given signs of dying away altogether. The stranger stood on till she fetched up, almost looking into the mouth of the concealed cove, either totally unconscious of the danger of her proceeding, or indifferent to the consequences.

The latter could scarcely be the case; for, as Ada again looked at her through the telescope, she observed that she was a vessel apparently of little more than a hundred-and-twenty or thirty tons burden. Her rig was that of a brigantine—the foremast having the top and spars of a brig, the mainmast carrying fore-and-aft sails like a schooner. When she had stood in within a quarter of a mile of the shore she tacked, either fearing to get becalmed should she approach nearer, or being, uncertain of the depth of water. If it was to avoid the former inconvenience, it was too late, for, scarcely had she gone about than her sails flapped idly against the masts, and she lay unable to make any way at all.

Ada was now convinced that she was a stranger—a merchantman, probably, as she judged by the cut of the sails, the short yards, and the few men who appeared on her decks. She had two guns, it is true, but they were of little weight of metal, and could have been of slight use in repelling a really determined attack.

Ada trembled for her fate, when she recollected her suspicions of the lawless character of the inhabitants of the island. As she was watching the persons on the deck of the vessel, she saw that there was suddenly some confusion among them; several persons hurried from below, and some appeared to be surveying the mouth of the harbour with their telescopes. The cause was soon apparent, for as she looked in that direction, a long low dark object was seen to steal out from behind the rocks, like a snake from the grass, and dart towards them.

It was one of the misticoes, with her yards and sails stowed along the deck, and impelled by twenty long oars, pulled by twice that number of men, while as many more stood in the after part, and at the bows, with their matchlocks in their hands ready for use. In the bow, also, was a long brass gun on a swivel, pointed towards the doomed vessel.

The stranger was, however, manned by no cowardly hearts. As soon as they saw the nature of their enemy, they cast loose their two guns, loaded them, and ran them both out on the port side, which was the one then bearing on the shore. They knew that escape was impossible, and that they had little hope of mercy, so they lost no time in firing, on the chance of striking the enemy between wind and water, and compelling him to return. Unhappily, neither shot told with much useful effect. One struck the water just ahead of her, the other hit her gunnel and killed two of the people, which only exasperated the others, and made them pull the harder to get on board before receiving any other similar visitors.

“Oh! Jesu Maria,” exclaimed Marianna, hiding her eyes in her hands. “What can be the reason that the vessel there should fire at the boat?”

“I am afraid we shall be witnesses of a dreadful scene,” said Ada; “and yet I cannot withdraw my eyes from it. Oh! what will become of the poor people on board the vessel if those wretches in the mistico get near her? See! they are my countrymen, too, for there flies the red ensign of England.”

The ensign had been hoisted as the brigantine fired; but while watching the Greek vessel she had not observed it. The English, undaunted, set up a loud cheer, as they again run out their guns; but the pirates, taught by experience, pulled round under her stern, where her guns could not reach them, and let fly their own long pieces at them. As they were much lower than she was, the shot injured no one on deck; but flew through the fore-topsail. They did not again attempt to fire; but trusting to their vast superiority of numbers, they dashed boldly alongside, with the object of carrying her by boarding. The English had time to get one of their guns over to the starboard side, on which the mistico boarded them, and to fire directly down into her, before the pirates were able to leap up their side.

It was too late, however, to save them. The Greeks swarmed over the bows and quarters, and up the side, their swords in their teeth, and though the English seamen fought in a manner worthy of their name, Ada saw, with anguish, that they were quickly cut down or overpowered, pressed upon by overwhelming numbers, and in three minutes the islanders had full possession of the vessel. It made her heart sick as she beheld the catastrophe, which she had hoped against probability, might have been averted. Intensely interested as she was to learn the fate of her countrymen, her agitation prevented her from seeing more, and obliged her to withdraw her eyes from the painful sight. Marianna, however, took her place at the telescope.

“Oh, signora!” she exclaimed, “the saints protect us! But those cruel wretches are throwing the bodies of the poor English they have murdered overboard, before even their hearts can have ceased to throb. Wicked villains! I hope they won’t treat the living in the same way.”

“I’m afraid none remained alive,” said Ada, shuddering. “But what are they doing now?”

“They seem engaged in making their own vessel fast to the other, to prevent her from sinking, I suppose. I wish they may both go down to the bottom together. It would serve the wretches right.”

“God will punish them in His own good time, or the power of civilised nations will be exerted to perform His will,” replied Ada. “Our religion teaches us, remember, not to wish evil even to our worst enemies. But, ah, there comes out the other mistico to the assistance of their friends.”

In a short time the last-named vessel had reached the brigantine, and as soon as she was lashed alongside, all hands were busily engaged in transferring the cargo to their own craft, for they had managed to stop the shot-hole in the side of the one which had been engaged. The brigantine’s anchor had been dropped, and her sails clewed up; and as soon as the two misticoes were laden, they returned to the harbour. In another hour or so, they were again alongside the prize, and engaged in their work of plunder. They laboured hard till they had transferred everything of value from her hold, and they then commenced stripping her masts of the sails and rigging; and in collecting other things from her deck and cabin which might be useful—not forgetting her guns, and her small store of powder and shot. By the time they had completed their work the sun had set, and loaded with plunder they returned to port. As they left the side of the unfortunate vessel, a shout of exultation escaped them; and soon after, Ada perceived through the gloom a thick smoke ascending from the hatchways, followed quickly by forked flames, which leaped upwards, and rapidly enveloped the masts and lower, rigging. The whole hull was rapidly in a blaze, which lighted up with a lurid glare the two misticoes; the grim visages of their fierce crew, their red caps, and varied-coloured costume being clearly visible at that distance through the telescope. The fiery tinge falling also on the rocky cliffs, and the towers and walls of the castle, and converting the tranquil surface of the ocean into, seemingly, a sea of blood.

The brigantine burned fiercely—there must have been some inflammable substance which had formed part of her cargo remaining in her hold. From the two small stern-ports, which had been left open, the flames burst forth in jets of fire, as also from every hatchway, fore and aft, till the decks fell in, and the masts, like two pillars of fire, came rushing down, and hissing into the water. At length the empty hull sunk beneath the surface, and all was again dark.

“I fear, signora, we are in a complete nest of pirates,” said Marianna, breaking the silence which she had maintained after the catastrophe.

“I fear so, too,” replied Ada; “but that burning vessel may prove a beacon to light our friends to our rescue.”

Chapter Twenty One.Ada Garden sat in the chamber of the tower which had been awarded to her as her prison. Her Maltese attendant had accompanied young Mila to a short distance from the castle—but she was not alone. A figure knelt at her feet in the attitude of the deepest devotion; his head was bowed down to the ground, and sobs burst from his bosom:—it was the young Italian, whom we have known under the name of Paolo.“Oh, hear me, lady!” he exclaimed passionately,—“oh, hear me, before you dismiss me for ever from your presence. I cannot unsay what I have said—I have dared to tell you that I love you with the fondest, the deepest devotion—I have done so from the first moment I saw you; but hear my excuses. I felt myself alone and desolate in the world; I beheld you, bright, innocent, and beautiful, exposed, I knew, to the most dreadful danger, and I determined to save you at all risks. I knew not then that it was love—I thought it was compassion for one so fair. I saw you brought on board the pirate vessel, the accursedSea Hawk, unconscious of your state. My medical knowledge would, I knew, be of service: I suggested that your life hung on a thread, that the slightest agitation might destroy you, and I so worked on the fears of the miscreant chief, that I persuaded him to confide you entirely into my charge. I ventured even to administer a narcotic, to render you insensible when Zappa wished to see you, and to frighten him still more into the belief that you were on the point of death. Day after day I saw you, I felt that your safety depended on me, that I might even yet be the means of rescuing you from the thraldom under which you are placed, and day after day my love increased—I have fed upon it till it has become a part of my very existence, and can end but with my life. Then tell me, lady—tell me, how could you expect me to do otherwise than confess the love which is consuming me? I do not ask yet for a return of my devotion—I do not expect it till I have accomplished far more than I yet have done to deserve it; but yet, I do say, when my task is fulfilled—when I have placed you in safety, and can surround you with the luxuries to which you are accustomed—when I can restore you to your proper station in life, that must be my reward, or I will place a dagger in your hand, and bid you strike home to my heart; for that would be the only other boon I would ask of you—the only other happiness I could enjoy.”Ada looked at the unhappy young man with compassion, and her bosom heaved with emotion; for she saw the sincerity of his passion, and it grieved her heart to wound his feelings; but yet, she could not deceive him.“Signor, I cannot blame you. I do not complain of your addressing me in words of love, however much I am grieved to hear them. I am grateful for all you have done for me—I would endeavour to prove to you, had I the power, how grateful I am, and for all you purpose doing for me. I feel that to you I owe my preservation from dangers too dreadful to contemplate. I venture to entreat you still to exert your generous efforts to aid me, and to enable me to return to my friends; and yet I tell you that I cannot give you more than my deep, my everlasting gratitude. My love, signor, were it a worthy recompense for your exertions, I have not to give—my heart as well as my troth belongs to another.”The fierce passions which rest in the bosoms of the inhabitants of those southern climes, have far more powerful effects than any similar emotions on the less sensitively constituted frames of the northern nations. Scarcely had Ada uttered these words, than, casting a glance at her features, as if to ascertain that he heard aright, and was not in some frightful dream, the young Italian fell prostrate on his face before her. Horrified and trembling, she gazed at him without moving, for she thought he was dead; but at length as she stepped over him, his heavy breathing assured her that he still lived, and she exerted all her strength to raise him, as she was afraid, for his sake, to call any one to her assistance. A jar of water was in the room, and she dashed some of its contents over his face, and placed him so that the air from the window might come in and revive him. It was now her turn to act the part of guardian angel; and Captain Fleetwood would have pardoned her, as she bent over him, had she felt as a sister for the pale and unhappy youth before her. At last her efforts were crowned with success. He opened his eyes and gazed at her with a look to which intelligence soon returned. As he did so, he endeavoured to rise; but the agitation of his feelings had been too violent to allow him so quickly to recover, and he again sank down on the ground, where he remained for some minutes, endeavouring to regain his scattered thoughts.“Where am I? What dreadful event has occurred?” he at length muttered. “Methought some demon came with lightning in his hand to blast the lovely prospect which an angel had opened to my view.”He was silent—the sound of his own voice had the effect of restoring him to his senses. He rose, though with difficulty, and stood before her, supporting himself by a chair.“Pardon me, lady,” he said, his voice still faltering as he spoke; “I have been weak, and have acted wrongly, madly, I own it. The words I have uttered I should not have spoken till you were free, and had no longer more to expect from me; but oh, forget them—learn to look upon me as before I committed that fatal error. I ask no recompense for what I have done, I ask none for what I may do. All I entreat you is, to allow me to serve you faithfully—to obey your behests, whatever they may be, even though to do so break my very heart-strings. Lady, for your sake I would preserve my rival, even though the next instant I were to see you clasped in his arms.”Ada was moved, and she held out her hand to the young man; for though to English ears his language might appear overstrained, and his sentiments exaggerated and unnatural, for an Italian she knew it was composed and rational, and it gave her confidence in the sincerity of his professions.“I trust you, signor,” she answered, struggling to keep down her own emotion. “Believe me, you have my sincerest regard, and I were, indeed, base not to feel the deepest gratitude. Remember, then, that I rely on you to serve me whenever I may ask you, and place my safety and hope of ultimate escape in your hands.”“And it shall not be misplaced,” answered Paolo. “But, lady, I have longed to banish from your mind the prejudice you must naturally entertain against me, at seeing me in this island, with such company; but believe me that it is sorely against my will. I am here by compulsion, a prisoner like yourself, though with more apparent liberty. To comprehend it I must tell you my unhappy history, which I would long ago have done, had I had the opportunity; but I feared to do so in presence of your attendant, on whose discretion I knew not if I could rely; and I have also, lately, been so closely watched by my oppressor, Zappa, that I have been unable to visit you when I thought you might be alone. If you will now, lady, listen to me, it will serve to calm my spirits, and will contribute towards placing me in the position I would enjoy in your estimation.”Ada assured him that even when her suspicions as to the character of theSea Hawkhad been excited, she could not suppose that he was as guilty as those with whom she found him associated, although she had not believed him altogether as blameless as she should be rejoiced to find that he in reality was.“Thanks, lady, thanks, you already relieve my heart of a great weight, by saying so,” he exclaimed, checking the passionate expression which was stealing into his tone and manner. “To convince you further that you did me but justice, I will give you a brief outline of my history:—“You see before you the last remnant of an old, and noble, and once powerful family. My fathers were lords of a broad domain in the neighbourhood of Brindisi, among the wild and rugged mountains which form the eastern spur of the Appenines, and abut on the shores of the Adriatic. They first rose and flourished in the days when the sword of the strong hand could win lands and power, and when, whatever was lost by the extravagance or folly of one, was easily replaced by the bravery and daring of his successor. But in later years, although the former means of repairing their damaged property no longer existed, yet, still with rather frequent succession, a Lord of Montifalcone would assume the family honours, who failed not to squander away property which he had no means of replacing. Estate after estate was sold for several generations, till, at last, my father found himself the heir to a half-ruined castle on the borders of the ocean, and a few thousand acres of unproductive land in the same neighbourhood. My mother, who is now a saint in heaven, was as much so as a mortal can be when on earth; and although my noble father inherited much of the true pride of ancient ancestry, he was free from the folly and vice of his predecessors, and he resolved to exert all his energies in repairing his broken fortunes, and to hand down a fair estate to his progeny.“By prudence and economy, he in a great manner, succeeded in doing so; and as he considered that idleness had been the cause of the ruin his ancestors had wrought on the family, he determined to give all his own children professions, which should afford them employment, and the means of support, despising the spirit which considered any employment besides that of arms beneath the dignity of a noble.“My eldest brother was, accordingly, educated to the profession of the law, while I studied that of medicine. I had three sisters, all equally lovely, and endued, apparently, with the same amiable qualities. The eldest married young, and went to live in the neighbourhood of Naples; the second died; and the history of the third is closely interwoven with mine. By husbanding his resources, and carefully attending to the nature of the soil, my father had so improved the farms on his estate, that their produce was increased threefold; and as he spent the greater part of the income arising from it in still further improving it, devoting only what was absolutely necessary for the education of his sons, the produce went on increasing, to the surprise of all his neighbours.“The castle had been put in sufficient repair, to make a suitable residence for the family, and thither, during the time my brother and I could escape from our professional studies, we eagerly hastened to spend it in the society of those to whom we were ardently attached. Our greatest favourite, if we loved one more than the other, was our sister Nina, for she was the youngest. She was the most fascinating and lovely, though we confessed that if she had a fault, her disposition was too yielding and confiding—guileless herself, she could not credit that guile existed in others. Hers was one of those characters which, from its very innocence, would be held more sacred in the eyes of an upright, honourable man, though it exposes its possessor to be made the dupe of the designing villain. One might have supposed that our remote and quiet home would have been free from the accursed presence of such a one. Never was a family more united or more happy. Our father was in the enjoyment of vigorous health, and proud of his family, and the success of his laudable projects. Our sainted mother rejoiced when he did, and their children had a contented present, and could look forward with confidence to the future. I have not described the castle in which we lived. It was one of great antiquity, though, as it had been added to, in subsequent years, the walls were mostly sound, and in good repair. It stood on the summit of a rocky cliff, overlooking the sea, though of no great height, so that the waves, during a wintry storm, could dash up to the very base, and send showers of the sparkling spray over the walls. There was a deep moat surrounding it, with a drawbridge over it; and, besides the main part, which was of great extent, there were walls with passages through them, and strong towers at each angle with which they communicated. So numerous and intricate were the passages, and so dark and dangerous, from their ruined condition, that even I, a son of the house, had never entirely explored them.“Inland of the castle was an extensive and now highly-cultivated plain, the property of my father, who could thus from the summit of his tower survey the greater portion of his estates. Beyond the plain rose range above range of lofty and almost inaccessible mountains which gave a character of peculiar wildness to the scenery. Indeed, during the winter, I have never seen a spot partaking more of savage grandeur than my paternal castle; with the stormy ocean roaring on one side, and the cloud-capped Appenines towering to the skies on the other.“It was my delight as a boy, with my gun in my hand, to hunt the wild chamois among the remote recesses and rugged precipices of the one, or to bound in my light boat over the dancing waves of the other.“Among such scenes was I born, and I believe they gave a tone to my mind, which subsequent intercourse with the world did not altogether wear out; and such as may be supposed had a still more powerful effect on the mind of my sisters, who enjoyed less means of having their effect counteracted.“One night during the middle of winter, when all the members of the family were assembled in the great hall, sitting round the large dish of burning embers, to keep ourselves warm, chilled as we should otherwise have been from the effects of a furious gale, which blew across the Adriatic from the snowy mountains of Albania, a report was brought in by one of the farm servants, that a vessel was driving towards a dangerous reef of rocks, which ran out to sea, at a short distance from the southward of the castle. My brother and I seized our hats and cloaks, and bidding the rest of the family not to be alarmed for our safety, we rushed out to see what assistance we might render to the hapless crew of the vessel, should any of them escape alive. She was still at some little distance, and apparently not aware of the imminence of her danger, for she was firing guns of distress to call those on the shore to her assistance, as if, in the situation she was placed, any human aid could be afforded her. The sea was running to a prodigious height, and dashing with the wildest fury on the rocky shore, and not a boat we had ever seen could have lived in it an instant. The wind too blew in awful gusts, so that we frequently could scarcely stand, and it sent the foam flying over us in showers, till we were drenched with it to the skin, as we passed along to the edge of the cliff; on our way to the spot near which we judged the hapless vessel would strike the rocks. We had collected as many of our people as we could find, and were supplied with ropes and spars to enable us to save the lives of any, should they be washed on shore from the wreck.“Now, mark me, lady, we believed that we were performing a truly Christian and virtuous act, and yet it was the cause of all the subsequent misery! and those I loved far better than myself endured. We were hastening to preserve from destruction the accursed viper who was to sting us to death. Thus, Heaven ordained it should be, and its ways are dark and intricate, beyond my comprehension, for surely it is against all the rules one can conceive of justice that a virtuous action should be thus rewarded. Perhaps you will say that His ways are inscrutable, and, that as we have neither the power, nor have we the right to attempt to read them, so we should not venture to cavil at His ordinances, but humbly believe that the ultimate result will be for our benefit. I believe it is so, lady; or it may be for a punishment; but it is bitter, very bitter, oftentimes to bear. But I am wandering from my story. We could watch the progress of the fated vessel by the occasional flashes of her guns, and the still more vivid ones of the lightning which darted from the dark clouds, and we could see that she still had some sail set, with which she was endeavouring to haul off the shore. On she flew, plunging madly into the foaming waves, when, just as we reached the beach, she was lifted on the summit of a sea, and crashed downward on the reef. We fancied that we could hear the despairing shriek of the hapless mariners above the loud roar of the waters as the wild waves dashed over them, and their barque parted beneath their feet. A second flash revealed to us the masts falling by the board, and every timber and plank upheaving amid the foam—another came, and not a vestige of the vessel remained. We were about to leave the spot, from feeling how hopeless was the prospect of saving the lives of any of those who had the misfortune to be on board, for we believed that not one could have survived an instant after the vessel had struck, when the men who were with us asserted that they saw some of the wreck drifting towards us; and directly afterwards a chest and some planks were cast within their reach, and hauled on shore.“This encouraged us to remain; and some other chests and boxes, bales of silk, and parts of the wreck, quickly followed. My brother and I had been endeavouring to pierce the darkness with our eyes, to discover if any of our fellow-creatures were floating among the remnants of their late home, when we perceived a spar driving along the shore, to which it gradually drew near; and as a more vivid flash of lightning than usual darted through the air, we were convinced that we saw the figure of a man clinging to it. Calling the men to our assistance, we hurried on to the spot where we judged he would come on shore. The spar, with its occupant, approached us, again to be carried off. We saw that the man was unable to help himself. My brother and I, fastening ropes round our waists, rushed into the water, and striking out against the waves, almost overpowered with their force, we seized the now nearly insensible body, just as his grasp had loosened from the spar, and dragged him ashore. So completely exhausted was he that, at first, we believed our exertions had been in vain, and that he was dead; but, on feeling his heart, we found that he still breathed; and, after looking in vain for the appearance of any of his late shipmates—though we left some men to watch, should any come on shore—we bore him to the castle. My brother and I were almost chilled to death with the cold wind, which blew through our wet clothes—for we had wrapped up the stranger in our cloaks—yet, on our reaching home, before we would attend to ourselves, we saw him stripped of his wet garments, and placed him between blankets in my bed.“We then hurried off to change our own dripping clothes, leaving him in charge of our mother, who was engaged in pouring some warm liquid down his throat. When we returned we found that he had much revived, and was able to speak a little,—though with pain—for he confessed that he had received some severe blows from the pieces of the wreck, and was much bruised, and otherwise injured.“I ought to have stated that, on entering the castle, we found that he was habited in the Greek costume; and that his dress was rich and costly, as were the ornaments on a dagger and brace of pistols which still were fixed in his sash. We were not, therefore, a little astonished to hear him speak Italian with a pure accent, the reason of which he soon explained, by stating that he had been educated in our country, which he had, indeed, only lately left. At first it had struck me that he seemed restless and uneasy when he heard that our men were still out for the purpose of assisting those who might come on shore.“He made minute and constant inquiries whether any of his shipmates had been saved; and when he was informed that the men had returned, and reported their belief that he was the only survivor of the whole ship’s company, though he at first gave way to expressions of great grief, he very soon recovered his composure, nor did he show further that he felt any regret at their loss.“As he was very much hurt, I was afraid of fever setting in, which might have proved fatal; and I therefore forbade him to engage in conversation, and gave him such remedies as I thought would prove effectual in allaying it. It did not, however, do so entirely; and for some days he suffered severely.“I sat by his side, and watched over him with the greatest care—in which work I was aided by my sisters—who were in constant attendance on him when I was called away. When he had slightly recovered, he told us, without our questioning him on the subject, that the vessel which had been lost belonged to the Greek patriot navy, which was just then forming, from those ports which had succeeded in throwing off the Turkish yoke, and that he was simply a junior officer on board, as he had not, indeed, had any great length of experience on the sea—though that, with regard to rank and family, he was equal to any in his native land.“He then told us that he had been educated at the university of Pisa; and when he mentioned the name of Argiri Caramitzo, my elder brother, who had been there, recollected fully hearing much of him, though it struck him that he bore the character of a wild and thoughtless youth. His ultimate recovery was slow, for the injuries he had received were very severe. As, in our economical system of housekeeping, we had few personal attendants, my mother and sisters were more constantly at the side of the sick stranger’s couch than would otherwise, probably, have been the case; at the same time that it would have been contrary to our notions of hospitality to leave him much to the care of menials. Indeed, his conversation was so sparkling and lively—so full of anecdote of his varied intercourse with the world—and his manners were so courteous—and his expressions were so full of gratitude, that they felt themselves amply recompensed for their attendance by the gratification they experienced in his society—especially my younger sister, to whom the great world he painted was new, and strange, and wonderful.“My brother and I were not so much captivated by the attractions of the handsome stranger as were the rest of the family; at the same time I confess that, by his cordiality and evident anxiety to win me over, and to show his sense of the obligation he was under to me for the preservation of his life, he managed to gain my regard, if not my affection—indeed, I could not place that perfect confidence in him which I should have desired; as I frequently, in his less guarded moments, heard him express sentiments which were totally at variance with those he led my family to suppose he possessed. I had, however, no doubt of the account he gave of himself—as it was corroborated in one point by the numbers of bodies washed on shore habited in the Greek costume. To return to the night of the wreck, or rather the morning succeeding it. When he heard that none of his shipmates had escaped, he entreated us to exert ourselves in preserving from plunder such chests and boxes as came on shore, as he said he trusted that, as Providence had saved him, it had preserved his property also, and that he should hope to find his own chest among the rest; and he promised, after having examined them, to give the remainder up to those who had found them. This wish, of course, seemed very natural, and several boxes which were discovered were conveyed to the castle. It was more difficult to account for a number of bales, and pieces of silk and cloth, which drove on shore entangled with the seaweed; but when he heard of it, he stated that they had fallen in just before with a foundering merchantman, and that this was probably some of her cargo.“His first care on recovering was to examine the chests, which he took an opportunity of doing without any witnesses. One he claimed as his own, and he showed us that it contained several rich Greek dresses, which he begged might be cleaned and dried. The remainder of the boxes had been thoroughly ransacked for the purpose, as I since have reason to know, of destroying any papers which might betray the character of his ship; and also to remove some bags of treasure which he knew they contained. He thus became possessed of considerable wealth, and the surest means of accomplishing any object he might have in view. As he partially recovered his strength, he would wander out with my mother or sisters to the sheltered garden within the walls of the castle, and afterwards to one which was situated on the outer side of the moat, and which contained orange and apple, and other productive trees. The time was approaching when my brother would be compelled to return to his practice, and I to my studies at the university. Before, however, we went, our guest was able to accompany me on a short excursion into the mountains. He seemed to enjoy it, though he was much too fatigued, he said, again to attempt so long an expedition. This observation led me to suppose that he had no present intention of quitting the castle. He expressed his regret at my intended departure, and assured me that he hoped to return again at some future period to thank me more than he had hitherto done for the service I had rendered him. A day or two afterwards, thinking the change would benefit him, I invited him to accompany me on the water; the sea was calm, the sun shone bright, and the air was almost as balmy as in summer. I mention the circumstance for the purpose of introducing the conversation which ensued, as we sat at the stern of the boat rowed by two sturdy fishermen.“‘So, Signor Paolo,’ he said, ‘I understand that you are studying the science of medicine—a very important one, though but little understood in my country.’“My answers are immaterial, so I will not repeat them.“‘A somewhat dull life, though, you are destined to lead, if you are to be shut up in one of the smaller cities of Italy, and employed in tending old dowagers and sick babies. I should have thought that such an occupation were somewhat derogatory to one with the noble blood which flows through your veins. Each man to his fancy, Signor Paolo. Now, were I to recommend, I should advise you to claim your patrimony from your father, and to wander forth and see the world. Instead of returning to your college, accompany me to Greece, where I must soon go; and I will show you some of the glorious sport of war, and introduce you to the land where the arts and sciences flourished when Italy was but a desert. When you grow weary you can return to your studies; but I promise you that you will find by far too much excitement and interest in the life you will lead to make you wish to go back to the dull routine from which I shall have emancipated you.’“Such was the tenor of his conversation; and though I declined accepting his offer, it made an impression which I should not at the time have supposed possible.“I had for some time past observed that he seemed to pay more attention to my youngest sister, Nina, than to the other members of the family, and she used to listen to his words, and to watch his looks with an eagerness which ought to have warned those about her of the too probable result.“I, at length, the day before I left home, informed my mother of my fears that the stranger was becoming attached to my sister, and entreated her to be on her guard. She assured me that my alarm was groundless; that she had not remarked anything particular in Signor Caramitzo’s manner; and that at all events Nina was far too well brought up to give her affections to one of whom she knew so little. We left our beloved and happy home—my brother, alas! never to return. We were the only two of the family the stranger feared; for he saw that we did not thoroughly trust him.“Our parents treated him with all the courtesy due to an honoured guest; and it was against all their notions of hospitality to hint to him that as his strength was re-established, he should take his departure. He now began his accursed employment of winning and enslaving the pure affections of my young sister, in order to allure her from her father’s home. He found the task of making her love him, not very difficult, for she knew nothing of the perfidy of man; but when he first proposed her flying with him, she was startled and horrified, and would have betrayed him, had he not assured her that he had mentioned the subject merely to try her, and that it was far from his intention to make her do anything of which she might repent.“He still continued urging his suit in secret, and winding himself deeper and deeper into her affections, till she no longer lived or breathed, except for his sake. He at last really and truly loved her as much as his nature was capable of; and I believe that if any compunction ever visited his mind, it was at what had been his intention with regard to that sweet girl.“Two weeks after I left the castle a letter reached me, with the information that the stranger had taken his departure on board a vessel which put into the neighbouring port, and what seriously alarmed me was, that my sister Nina had been seized with a dangerous illness. I would have flown home, but my father forbade me; and the next account spoke of her recovery—though she remained in a low and melancholy state most unusual for her. It was at this time my eldest sister married a nobleman of high character, greatly to our parents’ satisfaction; and soon afterwards the first misfortune which had yet happened to our hitherto prosperous family occurred. Our second sister was seized with a mortal malady, which terminated her existence.“The shock was so great to our mother, worn out as she already was with watching over Nina, that she could not rally; and she herself fell a victim to the same fatal disease.“I returned home to find my father prostrate by the double blow. For months I anxiously watched over him, and at length, to my great joy, he partially recovered his health and strength. Nina’s spirits appeared to me to have been much restored, her eye brightened, and often her lips wore the same smile as of yore. I never ventured to mention the name of Argiri Caramitzo to her, nor did she herself ever allude to the circumstance of his shipwreck and stay at our castle; and I trusted that she had banished him from her mind. Such happiness as the world can give was about, I hoped, to revisit the remnant of our family. Alas! how fallacious were my expectations.”

Ada Garden sat in the chamber of the tower which had been awarded to her as her prison. Her Maltese attendant had accompanied young Mila to a short distance from the castle—but she was not alone. A figure knelt at her feet in the attitude of the deepest devotion; his head was bowed down to the ground, and sobs burst from his bosom:—it was the young Italian, whom we have known under the name of Paolo.

“Oh, hear me, lady!” he exclaimed passionately,—“oh, hear me, before you dismiss me for ever from your presence. I cannot unsay what I have said—I have dared to tell you that I love you with the fondest, the deepest devotion—I have done so from the first moment I saw you; but hear my excuses. I felt myself alone and desolate in the world; I beheld you, bright, innocent, and beautiful, exposed, I knew, to the most dreadful danger, and I determined to save you at all risks. I knew not then that it was love—I thought it was compassion for one so fair. I saw you brought on board the pirate vessel, the accursedSea Hawk, unconscious of your state. My medical knowledge would, I knew, be of service: I suggested that your life hung on a thread, that the slightest agitation might destroy you, and I so worked on the fears of the miscreant chief, that I persuaded him to confide you entirely into my charge. I ventured even to administer a narcotic, to render you insensible when Zappa wished to see you, and to frighten him still more into the belief that you were on the point of death. Day after day I saw you, I felt that your safety depended on me, that I might even yet be the means of rescuing you from the thraldom under which you are placed, and day after day my love increased—I have fed upon it till it has become a part of my very existence, and can end but with my life. Then tell me, lady—tell me, how could you expect me to do otherwise than confess the love which is consuming me? I do not ask yet for a return of my devotion—I do not expect it till I have accomplished far more than I yet have done to deserve it; but yet, I do say, when my task is fulfilled—when I have placed you in safety, and can surround you with the luxuries to which you are accustomed—when I can restore you to your proper station in life, that must be my reward, or I will place a dagger in your hand, and bid you strike home to my heart; for that would be the only other boon I would ask of you—the only other happiness I could enjoy.”

Ada looked at the unhappy young man with compassion, and her bosom heaved with emotion; for she saw the sincerity of his passion, and it grieved her heart to wound his feelings; but yet, she could not deceive him.

“Signor, I cannot blame you. I do not complain of your addressing me in words of love, however much I am grieved to hear them. I am grateful for all you have done for me—I would endeavour to prove to you, had I the power, how grateful I am, and for all you purpose doing for me. I feel that to you I owe my preservation from dangers too dreadful to contemplate. I venture to entreat you still to exert your generous efforts to aid me, and to enable me to return to my friends; and yet I tell you that I cannot give you more than my deep, my everlasting gratitude. My love, signor, were it a worthy recompense for your exertions, I have not to give—my heart as well as my troth belongs to another.”

The fierce passions which rest in the bosoms of the inhabitants of those southern climes, have far more powerful effects than any similar emotions on the less sensitively constituted frames of the northern nations. Scarcely had Ada uttered these words, than, casting a glance at her features, as if to ascertain that he heard aright, and was not in some frightful dream, the young Italian fell prostrate on his face before her. Horrified and trembling, she gazed at him without moving, for she thought he was dead; but at length as she stepped over him, his heavy breathing assured her that he still lived, and she exerted all her strength to raise him, as she was afraid, for his sake, to call any one to her assistance. A jar of water was in the room, and she dashed some of its contents over his face, and placed him so that the air from the window might come in and revive him. It was now her turn to act the part of guardian angel; and Captain Fleetwood would have pardoned her, as she bent over him, had she felt as a sister for the pale and unhappy youth before her. At last her efforts were crowned with success. He opened his eyes and gazed at her with a look to which intelligence soon returned. As he did so, he endeavoured to rise; but the agitation of his feelings had been too violent to allow him so quickly to recover, and he again sank down on the ground, where he remained for some minutes, endeavouring to regain his scattered thoughts.

“Where am I? What dreadful event has occurred?” he at length muttered. “Methought some demon came with lightning in his hand to blast the lovely prospect which an angel had opened to my view.”

He was silent—the sound of his own voice had the effect of restoring him to his senses. He rose, though with difficulty, and stood before her, supporting himself by a chair.

“Pardon me, lady,” he said, his voice still faltering as he spoke; “I have been weak, and have acted wrongly, madly, I own it. The words I have uttered I should not have spoken till you were free, and had no longer more to expect from me; but oh, forget them—learn to look upon me as before I committed that fatal error. I ask no recompense for what I have done, I ask none for what I may do. All I entreat you is, to allow me to serve you faithfully—to obey your behests, whatever they may be, even though to do so break my very heart-strings. Lady, for your sake I would preserve my rival, even though the next instant I were to see you clasped in his arms.”

Ada was moved, and she held out her hand to the young man; for though to English ears his language might appear overstrained, and his sentiments exaggerated and unnatural, for an Italian she knew it was composed and rational, and it gave her confidence in the sincerity of his professions.

“I trust you, signor,” she answered, struggling to keep down her own emotion. “Believe me, you have my sincerest regard, and I were, indeed, base not to feel the deepest gratitude. Remember, then, that I rely on you to serve me whenever I may ask you, and place my safety and hope of ultimate escape in your hands.”

“And it shall not be misplaced,” answered Paolo. “But, lady, I have longed to banish from your mind the prejudice you must naturally entertain against me, at seeing me in this island, with such company; but believe me that it is sorely against my will. I am here by compulsion, a prisoner like yourself, though with more apparent liberty. To comprehend it I must tell you my unhappy history, which I would long ago have done, had I had the opportunity; but I feared to do so in presence of your attendant, on whose discretion I knew not if I could rely; and I have also, lately, been so closely watched by my oppressor, Zappa, that I have been unable to visit you when I thought you might be alone. If you will now, lady, listen to me, it will serve to calm my spirits, and will contribute towards placing me in the position I would enjoy in your estimation.”

Ada assured him that even when her suspicions as to the character of theSea Hawkhad been excited, she could not suppose that he was as guilty as those with whom she found him associated, although she had not believed him altogether as blameless as she should be rejoiced to find that he in reality was.

“Thanks, lady, thanks, you already relieve my heart of a great weight, by saying so,” he exclaimed, checking the passionate expression which was stealing into his tone and manner. “To convince you further that you did me but justice, I will give you a brief outline of my history:—

“You see before you the last remnant of an old, and noble, and once powerful family. My fathers were lords of a broad domain in the neighbourhood of Brindisi, among the wild and rugged mountains which form the eastern spur of the Appenines, and abut on the shores of the Adriatic. They first rose and flourished in the days when the sword of the strong hand could win lands and power, and when, whatever was lost by the extravagance or folly of one, was easily replaced by the bravery and daring of his successor. But in later years, although the former means of repairing their damaged property no longer existed, yet, still with rather frequent succession, a Lord of Montifalcone would assume the family honours, who failed not to squander away property which he had no means of replacing. Estate after estate was sold for several generations, till, at last, my father found himself the heir to a half-ruined castle on the borders of the ocean, and a few thousand acres of unproductive land in the same neighbourhood. My mother, who is now a saint in heaven, was as much so as a mortal can be when on earth; and although my noble father inherited much of the true pride of ancient ancestry, he was free from the folly and vice of his predecessors, and he resolved to exert all his energies in repairing his broken fortunes, and to hand down a fair estate to his progeny.

“By prudence and economy, he in a great manner, succeeded in doing so; and as he considered that idleness had been the cause of the ruin his ancestors had wrought on the family, he determined to give all his own children professions, which should afford them employment, and the means of support, despising the spirit which considered any employment besides that of arms beneath the dignity of a noble.

“My eldest brother was, accordingly, educated to the profession of the law, while I studied that of medicine. I had three sisters, all equally lovely, and endued, apparently, with the same amiable qualities. The eldest married young, and went to live in the neighbourhood of Naples; the second died; and the history of the third is closely interwoven with mine. By husbanding his resources, and carefully attending to the nature of the soil, my father had so improved the farms on his estate, that their produce was increased threefold; and as he spent the greater part of the income arising from it in still further improving it, devoting only what was absolutely necessary for the education of his sons, the produce went on increasing, to the surprise of all his neighbours.

“The castle had been put in sufficient repair, to make a suitable residence for the family, and thither, during the time my brother and I could escape from our professional studies, we eagerly hastened to spend it in the society of those to whom we were ardently attached. Our greatest favourite, if we loved one more than the other, was our sister Nina, for she was the youngest. She was the most fascinating and lovely, though we confessed that if she had a fault, her disposition was too yielding and confiding—guileless herself, she could not credit that guile existed in others. Hers was one of those characters which, from its very innocence, would be held more sacred in the eyes of an upright, honourable man, though it exposes its possessor to be made the dupe of the designing villain. One might have supposed that our remote and quiet home would have been free from the accursed presence of such a one. Never was a family more united or more happy. Our father was in the enjoyment of vigorous health, and proud of his family, and the success of his laudable projects. Our sainted mother rejoiced when he did, and their children had a contented present, and could look forward with confidence to the future. I have not described the castle in which we lived. It was one of great antiquity, though, as it had been added to, in subsequent years, the walls were mostly sound, and in good repair. It stood on the summit of a rocky cliff, overlooking the sea, though of no great height, so that the waves, during a wintry storm, could dash up to the very base, and send showers of the sparkling spray over the walls. There was a deep moat surrounding it, with a drawbridge over it; and, besides the main part, which was of great extent, there were walls with passages through them, and strong towers at each angle with which they communicated. So numerous and intricate were the passages, and so dark and dangerous, from their ruined condition, that even I, a son of the house, had never entirely explored them.

“Inland of the castle was an extensive and now highly-cultivated plain, the property of my father, who could thus from the summit of his tower survey the greater portion of his estates. Beyond the plain rose range above range of lofty and almost inaccessible mountains which gave a character of peculiar wildness to the scenery. Indeed, during the winter, I have never seen a spot partaking more of savage grandeur than my paternal castle; with the stormy ocean roaring on one side, and the cloud-capped Appenines towering to the skies on the other.

“It was my delight as a boy, with my gun in my hand, to hunt the wild chamois among the remote recesses and rugged precipices of the one, or to bound in my light boat over the dancing waves of the other.

“Among such scenes was I born, and I believe they gave a tone to my mind, which subsequent intercourse with the world did not altogether wear out; and such as may be supposed had a still more powerful effect on the mind of my sisters, who enjoyed less means of having their effect counteracted.

“One night during the middle of winter, when all the members of the family were assembled in the great hall, sitting round the large dish of burning embers, to keep ourselves warm, chilled as we should otherwise have been from the effects of a furious gale, which blew across the Adriatic from the snowy mountains of Albania, a report was brought in by one of the farm servants, that a vessel was driving towards a dangerous reef of rocks, which ran out to sea, at a short distance from the southward of the castle. My brother and I seized our hats and cloaks, and bidding the rest of the family not to be alarmed for our safety, we rushed out to see what assistance we might render to the hapless crew of the vessel, should any of them escape alive. She was still at some little distance, and apparently not aware of the imminence of her danger, for she was firing guns of distress to call those on the shore to her assistance, as if, in the situation she was placed, any human aid could be afforded her. The sea was running to a prodigious height, and dashing with the wildest fury on the rocky shore, and not a boat we had ever seen could have lived in it an instant. The wind too blew in awful gusts, so that we frequently could scarcely stand, and it sent the foam flying over us in showers, till we were drenched with it to the skin, as we passed along to the edge of the cliff; on our way to the spot near which we judged the hapless vessel would strike the rocks. We had collected as many of our people as we could find, and were supplied with ropes and spars to enable us to save the lives of any, should they be washed on shore from the wreck.

“Now, mark me, lady, we believed that we were performing a truly Christian and virtuous act, and yet it was the cause of all the subsequent misery! and those I loved far better than myself endured. We were hastening to preserve from destruction the accursed viper who was to sting us to death. Thus, Heaven ordained it should be, and its ways are dark and intricate, beyond my comprehension, for surely it is against all the rules one can conceive of justice that a virtuous action should be thus rewarded. Perhaps you will say that His ways are inscrutable, and, that as we have neither the power, nor have we the right to attempt to read them, so we should not venture to cavil at His ordinances, but humbly believe that the ultimate result will be for our benefit. I believe it is so, lady; or it may be for a punishment; but it is bitter, very bitter, oftentimes to bear. But I am wandering from my story. We could watch the progress of the fated vessel by the occasional flashes of her guns, and the still more vivid ones of the lightning which darted from the dark clouds, and we could see that she still had some sail set, with which she was endeavouring to haul off the shore. On she flew, plunging madly into the foaming waves, when, just as we reached the beach, she was lifted on the summit of a sea, and crashed downward on the reef. We fancied that we could hear the despairing shriek of the hapless mariners above the loud roar of the waters as the wild waves dashed over them, and their barque parted beneath their feet. A second flash revealed to us the masts falling by the board, and every timber and plank upheaving amid the foam—another came, and not a vestige of the vessel remained. We were about to leave the spot, from feeling how hopeless was the prospect of saving the lives of any of those who had the misfortune to be on board, for we believed that not one could have survived an instant after the vessel had struck, when the men who were with us asserted that they saw some of the wreck drifting towards us; and directly afterwards a chest and some planks were cast within their reach, and hauled on shore.

“This encouraged us to remain; and some other chests and boxes, bales of silk, and parts of the wreck, quickly followed. My brother and I had been endeavouring to pierce the darkness with our eyes, to discover if any of our fellow-creatures were floating among the remnants of their late home, when we perceived a spar driving along the shore, to which it gradually drew near; and as a more vivid flash of lightning than usual darted through the air, we were convinced that we saw the figure of a man clinging to it. Calling the men to our assistance, we hurried on to the spot where we judged he would come on shore. The spar, with its occupant, approached us, again to be carried off. We saw that the man was unable to help himself. My brother and I, fastening ropes round our waists, rushed into the water, and striking out against the waves, almost overpowered with their force, we seized the now nearly insensible body, just as his grasp had loosened from the spar, and dragged him ashore. So completely exhausted was he that, at first, we believed our exertions had been in vain, and that he was dead; but, on feeling his heart, we found that he still breathed; and, after looking in vain for the appearance of any of his late shipmates—though we left some men to watch, should any come on shore—we bore him to the castle. My brother and I were almost chilled to death with the cold wind, which blew through our wet clothes—for we had wrapped up the stranger in our cloaks—yet, on our reaching home, before we would attend to ourselves, we saw him stripped of his wet garments, and placed him between blankets in my bed.

“We then hurried off to change our own dripping clothes, leaving him in charge of our mother, who was engaged in pouring some warm liquid down his throat. When we returned we found that he had much revived, and was able to speak a little,—though with pain—for he confessed that he had received some severe blows from the pieces of the wreck, and was much bruised, and otherwise injured.

“I ought to have stated that, on entering the castle, we found that he was habited in the Greek costume; and that his dress was rich and costly, as were the ornaments on a dagger and brace of pistols which still were fixed in his sash. We were not, therefore, a little astonished to hear him speak Italian with a pure accent, the reason of which he soon explained, by stating that he had been educated in our country, which he had, indeed, only lately left. At first it had struck me that he seemed restless and uneasy when he heard that our men were still out for the purpose of assisting those who might come on shore.

“He made minute and constant inquiries whether any of his shipmates had been saved; and when he was informed that the men had returned, and reported their belief that he was the only survivor of the whole ship’s company, though he at first gave way to expressions of great grief, he very soon recovered his composure, nor did he show further that he felt any regret at their loss.

“As he was very much hurt, I was afraid of fever setting in, which might have proved fatal; and I therefore forbade him to engage in conversation, and gave him such remedies as I thought would prove effectual in allaying it. It did not, however, do so entirely; and for some days he suffered severely.

“I sat by his side, and watched over him with the greatest care—in which work I was aided by my sisters—who were in constant attendance on him when I was called away. When he had slightly recovered, he told us, without our questioning him on the subject, that the vessel which had been lost belonged to the Greek patriot navy, which was just then forming, from those ports which had succeeded in throwing off the Turkish yoke, and that he was simply a junior officer on board, as he had not, indeed, had any great length of experience on the sea—though that, with regard to rank and family, he was equal to any in his native land.

“He then told us that he had been educated at the university of Pisa; and when he mentioned the name of Argiri Caramitzo, my elder brother, who had been there, recollected fully hearing much of him, though it struck him that he bore the character of a wild and thoughtless youth. His ultimate recovery was slow, for the injuries he had received were very severe. As, in our economical system of housekeeping, we had few personal attendants, my mother and sisters were more constantly at the side of the sick stranger’s couch than would otherwise, probably, have been the case; at the same time that it would have been contrary to our notions of hospitality to leave him much to the care of menials. Indeed, his conversation was so sparkling and lively—so full of anecdote of his varied intercourse with the world—and his manners were so courteous—and his expressions were so full of gratitude, that they felt themselves amply recompensed for their attendance by the gratification they experienced in his society—especially my younger sister, to whom the great world he painted was new, and strange, and wonderful.

“My brother and I were not so much captivated by the attractions of the handsome stranger as were the rest of the family; at the same time I confess that, by his cordiality and evident anxiety to win me over, and to show his sense of the obligation he was under to me for the preservation of his life, he managed to gain my regard, if not my affection—indeed, I could not place that perfect confidence in him which I should have desired; as I frequently, in his less guarded moments, heard him express sentiments which were totally at variance with those he led my family to suppose he possessed. I had, however, no doubt of the account he gave of himself—as it was corroborated in one point by the numbers of bodies washed on shore habited in the Greek costume. To return to the night of the wreck, or rather the morning succeeding it. When he heard that none of his shipmates had escaped, he entreated us to exert ourselves in preserving from plunder such chests and boxes as came on shore, as he said he trusted that, as Providence had saved him, it had preserved his property also, and that he should hope to find his own chest among the rest; and he promised, after having examined them, to give the remainder up to those who had found them. This wish, of course, seemed very natural, and several boxes which were discovered were conveyed to the castle. It was more difficult to account for a number of bales, and pieces of silk and cloth, which drove on shore entangled with the seaweed; but when he heard of it, he stated that they had fallen in just before with a foundering merchantman, and that this was probably some of her cargo.

“His first care on recovering was to examine the chests, which he took an opportunity of doing without any witnesses. One he claimed as his own, and he showed us that it contained several rich Greek dresses, which he begged might be cleaned and dried. The remainder of the boxes had been thoroughly ransacked for the purpose, as I since have reason to know, of destroying any papers which might betray the character of his ship; and also to remove some bags of treasure which he knew they contained. He thus became possessed of considerable wealth, and the surest means of accomplishing any object he might have in view. As he partially recovered his strength, he would wander out with my mother or sisters to the sheltered garden within the walls of the castle, and afterwards to one which was situated on the outer side of the moat, and which contained orange and apple, and other productive trees. The time was approaching when my brother would be compelled to return to his practice, and I to my studies at the university. Before, however, we went, our guest was able to accompany me on a short excursion into the mountains. He seemed to enjoy it, though he was much too fatigued, he said, again to attempt so long an expedition. This observation led me to suppose that he had no present intention of quitting the castle. He expressed his regret at my intended departure, and assured me that he hoped to return again at some future period to thank me more than he had hitherto done for the service I had rendered him. A day or two afterwards, thinking the change would benefit him, I invited him to accompany me on the water; the sea was calm, the sun shone bright, and the air was almost as balmy as in summer. I mention the circumstance for the purpose of introducing the conversation which ensued, as we sat at the stern of the boat rowed by two sturdy fishermen.

“‘So, Signor Paolo,’ he said, ‘I understand that you are studying the science of medicine—a very important one, though but little understood in my country.’

“My answers are immaterial, so I will not repeat them.

“‘A somewhat dull life, though, you are destined to lead, if you are to be shut up in one of the smaller cities of Italy, and employed in tending old dowagers and sick babies. I should have thought that such an occupation were somewhat derogatory to one with the noble blood which flows through your veins. Each man to his fancy, Signor Paolo. Now, were I to recommend, I should advise you to claim your patrimony from your father, and to wander forth and see the world. Instead of returning to your college, accompany me to Greece, where I must soon go; and I will show you some of the glorious sport of war, and introduce you to the land where the arts and sciences flourished when Italy was but a desert. When you grow weary you can return to your studies; but I promise you that you will find by far too much excitement and interest in the life you will lead to make you wish to go back to the dull routine from which I shall have emancipated you.’

“Such was the tenor of his conversation; and though I declined accepting his offer, it made an impression which I should not at the time have supposed possible.

“I had for some time past observed that he seemed to pay more attention to my youngest sister, Nina, than to the other members of the family, and she used to listen to his words, and to watch his looks with an eagerness which ought to have warned those about her of the too probable result.

“I, at length, the day before I left home, informed my mother of my fears that the stranger was becoming attached to my sister, and entreated her to be on her guard. She assured me that my alarm was groundless; that she had not remarked anything particular in Signor Caramitzo’s manner; and that at all events Nina was far too well brought up to give her affections to one of whom she knew so little. We left our beloved and happy home—my brother, alas! never to return. We were the only two of the family the stranger feared; for he saw that we did not thoroughly trust him.

“Our parents treated him with all the courtesy due to an honoured guest; and it was against all their notions of hospitality to hint to him that as his strength was re-established, he should take his departure. He now began his accursed employment of winning and enslaving the pure affections of my young sister, in order to allure her from her father’s home. He found the task of making her love him, not very difficult, for she knew nothing of the perfidy of man; but when he first proposed her flying with him, she was startled and horrified, and would have betrayed him, had he not assured her that he had mentioned the subject merely to try her, and that it was far from his intention to make her do anything of which she might repent.

“He still continued urging his suit in secret, and winding himself deeper and deeper into her affections, till she no longer lived or breathed, except for his sake. He at last really and truly loved her as much as his nature was capable of; and I believe that if any compunction ever visited his mind, it was at what had been his intention with regard to that sweet girl.

“Two weeks after I left the castle a letter reached me, with the information that the stranger had taken his departure on board a vessel which put into the neighbouring port, and what seriously alarmed me was, that my sister Nina had been seized with a dangerous illness. I would have flown home, but my father forbade me; and the next account spoke of her recovery—though she remained in a low and melancholy state most unusual for her. It was at this time my eldest sister married a nobleman of high character, greatly to our parents’ satisfaction; and soon afterwards the first misfortune which had yet happened to our hitherto prosperous family occurred. Our second sister was seized with a mortal malady, which terminated her existence.

“The shock was so great to our mother, worn out as she already was with watching over Nina, that she could not rally; and she herself fell a victim to the same fatal disease.

“I returned home to find my father prostrate by the double blow. For months I anxiously watched over him, and at length, to my great joy, he partially recovered his health and strength. Nina’s spirits appeared to me to have been much restored, her eye brightened, and often her lips wore the same smile as of yore. I never ventured to mention the name of Argiri Caramitzo to her, nor did she herself ever allude to the circumstance of his shipwreck and stay at our castle; and I trusted that she had banished him from her mind. Such happiness as the world can give was about, I hoped, to revisit the remnant of our family. Alas! how fallacious were my expectations.”

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