The Wing-and-Wing Part 43

At length Ithuel, who felt the necessity of saying something, if he would not bring the stranger close alongside of them, answered in the customary manner of the Italians.

Clinch, for it was he, scouring the sh.o.r.e in quest of the lugger, on his way back to the Proserpine, gave a growl when he found that he must speak in a foreign tongue, if he would continue the discourse; then he mustered all the Italian of which he was master for the occasion. Having cruised long on the station, this was sufficient, however, for his present purpose.

"Is that a boat from Ma.s.sa or from Capri?" he inquired.

"Neither, S'nore," answered Raoul, afraid to trust Carlo's conscience with the management of such a dialogue. "We come round the cape, from St. Agata, and carry figs to Napoli."

"St. Agata, aye, that is the village on the heights; I pa.s.sed a night there myself, in the house of one Maria Giuntotardi--"

"Who can this be?" murmured Ghita--"my aunt knows no forestieri!"

"An Inglese, by his thick speech and accent. I hope he will not ask for figs for his supper!"

Clinch was thinking of other things at that moment; and when he continued, it was to follow the train of his own thoughts.

"Have you seen anything of a barone-looking lugger," he asked, "French-rigged, and French-manned, skulking anywhere about this coast?"

"_Si_--she went north, into the Gulf of Gaeta, just as the sun was setting, and is, no doubt, gone to anchor under the cannon of her countrymen."

"If she has, she'll find herself in hot water," answered Clinch, in English. "We've craft enough up there, to hoist her in and dub her down to a jolly-boat's size, in a single watch. Did you see anything of a frigate this evening, near the Point of Campanella? An Inglese, I mean; a tight six-and-thirty, with three new topsails."

"_Si_--the light you see here, just in a range with Capri, is at her gaff; we have seen her the whole afternoon and evening. In fact, she towed us kindly round the cape, until we got fairly into this Bay."

"Then you are the people for me? Was there a man hanged on board her or not, about sunset?"

This question was put with so much interest, that Raoul cursed his interrogator in his heart; imagining that he was burning with the wish to learn his own execution. He was also now aware that this was he boat which had left the Proserpine about noon.

"I can tell you there was not, s'nore--if that will gladden your heart.

A man was all _ready_ to be hanged, when Captain Cuffe was pleased to order him taken down."

"Just as three heavy guns were fired up at town--was it not so?" Clinch eagerly inquired.

"_Diable!_ this man may have been my preserver, after all! You say true, s'nore; it _was_ just as three guns were fired up at Naples; though I did not know those guns had anything to do with the intended execution.

Can you tell me if they had?"

"If they had! Why I touched them off with my own hands, they were signals made by the admiral to spare poor Raoul Yvard, for a few days at, least. I am rejoiced to hear that all my great efforts to teach the fleet were not in vain. I don't like this hanging, Mr. Italian."

"S'nore, you show a kind heart, and will one day reap the reward of such generous feelings. I wish I knew the name of so humane a gentleman, that I might mention him in my prayers."

"They'll never fancy that Captain Rule said _that_," muttered Ithuel, grinning.

"As for my name, friend, it's no great matter. They call me Clinch, which is a good fast word to sail under, too; but it has no handle to it, other than of a poor devil of a master's-mate; and that, too, at an age when some men carry broad pennants."

This was said bitterly, and in English; when uttered, the supposed Italian was wished a "_buona sera_" and the gig proceeded.

"That is _un brave_" said Raoul, with emphasis, as they departed. "If ever I meet with Monsieur Cleench, he will learn that I do not forget his good wishes. _Peste!_ if there were a hundred such men in the British marine, Etooelle, we might love it."

"They're fiery serpents, Captain Rule, and not to be trusted, any on 'em. As for fine words, I might have fancied myself a cousin of the king's, if I'd only put my name to their s.h.i.+pping articles. This Mr.

Clinch is well enough in the main; being his own worst inimy, in the way of the grog pitcher."

"Boat, ahoy!" shouted Clinch again, now about a hundred yards distant, having pa.s.sed toward the cape. Raoul and Ithuel mechanically ceased rowing, under the impression that the master's-mate had still something to communicate.

"Boat, ahoy! Answer at once, or you'll hear from me," repeated Clinch.

"Aye, aye," answered another voice, which, in fact, was Yelverton's; "Clinch, is that you?"

"Aye, aye, sir--Mr. Yelverton, is it not? I think I know the voice, sir."

"You are quite right; but make less noise--who was that you hailed a minute or two since?"

Clinch began to answer; but, as the two gigs were approaching each other all the time, they were soon so near as to render it unnecessary to speak loud enough to be heard at any distance. All this time, Raoul and Ithuel lay on their oars, almost afraid to stir the water, and listening with an attention that was nearly breathless. They were satisfied that the oars of the English were now m.u.f.fled; a sign that they were in earnest in the pursuit, and bent on making a thorough search. The two gigs could not be more than a hundred yards from the yawl, and Ithuel knew that they were the two fastest-rowing boats of the English fleet--so fast, indeed, that Cuffe and his lieutenants had made several successful matches with them, against the officers of different vessels.

"Hist!" said Ghita, whose heart was in her mouth. "Oh! Raoul, they come!"

Coming, indeed,--were they; and that with vast velocity. So careful, however, was the stroke, that they were within two hundred feet of the yawl before Raoul and his companion took the alarm, and plunged their own oars again into the water. Then, indeed, the gigs might be dimly seen; though the shadows of the land deepened the obscurity of night so far, as to render objects at even a less distance quite indistinct. The suddenness and imminency of the danger appeared to arouse all there was of life in Carlo Giuntotardi. He steered, and steered well, being accustomed to the office, by living so long on the coast; and he sheered in for the rocks, with the double view of landing, if necessary, and of getting still deeper within the shadows. It was soon evident the English gained. Four oars against two were fearful odds; and it was plainly apparent the yawl must be overtaken.

"Oh, uncle! toward the arch and water-cavern of the point," whispered Ghita, whose hands were clasped on her breast as if to keep down her emotions. "_That_ may yet save him!"

The yawl was in the act of whirling round the rocks which form the deep cove on which the Marina Grande of Sorrento lies. Carlo caught his niece's idea, and he kept his tiller hard a-port, telling Raoul and Ithuel, at the same time, to take in their oars as quick as possible.

The men obeyed, supposing it was the intention to land and take to the heights for shelter. But just as they supposed the boat was about to strike against some perpendicular rocks, and Raoul was muttering his surprise that such a spot should be chosen to land at, it glided through a low, natural arch, and entered a little basin as noiselessly as a bubble floating in a current. The next minute, the two gigs came whirling round the rocks; one following the sh.o.r.e close in, to prevent the fugitives from landing, and the other steering more obliquely athwart the bay. In still another minute, they had pa.s.sed a hundred yards ahead, and the sound of their movements was lost.

Chapter XXV.

"And chiefly thou, O spirit, that dust prefer, Before all temples, the upright heart and pure, Instruct me; for thou know'st!"

MILTON

The spot in which Carlo Giuntotardi had taken refuge is well known on the Sorrentine sh.o.r.e, as the water-cavern at the ruins of Queen Joan's country-house. Cavern it is not, though the entrance is beneath a low, natural arch--the basin within being open to the heavens, and the place resembling an artificial excavation made to shelter boats. Let the origin of this little haven be what it may, art could not have devised a more convenient or a more perfect refuge than it afforded to our fugitives. Once through the arch, they would have been effectually concealed from their pursuers under a noonday sun; nor would any, who were unacquainted with the peculiarities of the entrance, dream of a boat's lying, as it might be, buried in the rocks of the little promontory. Neither Ghita nor her uncle any longer felt concern; but the former announced her intention to land here, a.s.suring Raoul that she could easily find her way into the bridle-path which leads to St. Agata.

The desperate character of the recent chase, aided by his late almost miraculous escape from death, joined to the necessity of parting from his mistress, rendered our hero melancholy, if not moody. He could not ask Ghita to share his dangers any longer; yet he felt, if he permitted her now to quit him, the separation might be for ever. Still he made no objection; but, leaving Ithuel in charge of the boat, he a.s.sisted Ghita up the funnel-like side of the basin, and prepared to accompany her on her way to the road. Carlo preceded the pair, telling his niece that she would find him at a cottage on the way that was well known to both.

The obscurity was not so great as to render the walking very difficult, and Raoul and Ghita pursued their course slowly along the rocks, each oppressed with the same sensation of regret at parting, though influenced by nearly opposing views for the future. The girl took the young man's arm without hesitation; and there was a tenderness in the tones of her voice, as well as in her general manner, that betrayed how nearly her heart was interested in what was pa.s.sing. Still, principle was ever uppermost in her thoughts, and she determined now to speak plainly, and to the purpose.

"Raoul," she said, after listening to some one of those fervent declarations of love that were peculiarly agreeable to one of her affectionate and sincere nature, even when she most felt the necessity of repelling the insinuating suit; "there must be an end of this. I can never go through again the scenes I have lately witnessed, nor allow you to run such fearful risks. The sooner we understand each other, and, I may say, the sooner we part, it will be the wiser, and the better for the interests of both. I blame myself for suffering the intimacy to last so long, and for proceeding so far."

"And this is said by a fervent-souled Italian girl! One of eighteen years;--who comes of a region in which it is the boast that the heart is even warmer than the sun; of a race, among whom it is hard to find _one--oui,_ even a poor _one_--who is not ready to sacrifice home, country, hopes, fortune, nay, life itself, to give happiness to the man who has chosen her from all the rest of her s.e.x."

"It _would_ seem to _me_ easy to do all this, Raoul. _Si_--I think I could sacrifice everything you have named, to make _you_ happy! Home I have not, unless the Prince's Towers can thus be called; country, since the sad event of this week, I feel as if I had altogether lost; of hopes, I have few in this world, with which your image has not been connected; but those which were once so precious to me are now, I fear, lost; you know I have no fortune, to tempt me to stay, or you to follow; as for my life, I fear it will soon be very valueless--an sure it will be miserable."

"Then why not decide at once, dearest Ghita, to throw the weight of your sorrows on the shoulders of one strong enough to bear them? You care not for dress or gay appearances, and can take a bridegroom even with the miserable aspect of a lazzarone, when you know the heart is right. You will not despise me because I am not decked as I might be for the bridal. Nothing is easier than to find an altar and a priest among these monasteries; and the hour for saying ma.s.s is not very distant. Give me a right to claim you, and I will appoint a place of rendezvous, bring in the lugger to-morrow night, and carry you off in triumph to our gay Provence; where you will find hearts gentle as your own, to welcome you with joy, and call you sister."

Raoul was earnest in his manner, and it was not possible to doubt his sincerity. Though an air of self-satisfaction gleamed in his face, when he alluded to his present personal appearance, for he well knew all his advantages in that way, in spite of the dress of a lazzarone.

"Urge me not, dear Raoul," Ghita answered, though, unconsciously to herself, she pressed closer to his side, and both sadness and love were in the very tones of her voice; "urge me not, dear Raoul; this can never be. I have already told you the gulf that lies between us; you _will_ not cross it, to join _me_, and I _cannot_ cross it, to join _you_.

Nothing but _that_ could separate us; but that, to my eyes, grows broader and deeper every hour."