It occurred to Will’s practical mind that this was some jest of the feather-brained court, and that the captain of our ship was not a good mark for jests. But he felt the pressure of her hand, and could not resist the eager, lovely face, and promised to deliver it. “Am I to go now?” he asked, rather ruefully.
“You need not; but you must be back on shore by nightfall.”
“Will anybody tell me anything? You seem determined to keep me in the dark, Rusidda.”
“Oh, I will tell you something when your captain gives you what he gives you. Wait until nightfall and then come on shore. Do you know near the Immacolata a little old church with a green and yellow dome? You will go in there, taking with you what you bring from the ship; there you will have something fresh given you—and with it you will come to the Church of S. Ferdinando, opposite one of the Palace gates. There you will wait until a priest comes out bearing a cross jewelled with purple stones. You will follow him, and do what he tells you. Will you do this for me, W-Will?” she asked, with a soft personal pleading which went straight to his heart; and she liked him none the less for the steady reservation with which he insisted on making the promise.
We took our time about making the circuit of the Castel Nuovo, and on to the steps where our boats lay, though this may not have been wise in the rather disturbed state of the city consequent on the rumours about His Sicilian Majesty’s army at Castellana and Fermi. But in truth Will was in no hurry to present the paper which he had sworn to put in the hands of the captain. Naval discipline was no light matter in our day. I believe he would sooner have presented it to General Championnet, and much sooner to the devil. But disagreeable things come to what they call in logick a climax, just as good things come to an end; and, finding the captain on deck, and in a good humour over the futile attempts of our Portuguese allies to warp one of the jury-rigged Neapolitan ships of the line out of the Mole, he made bold to salute him and present the paper.
“Your men will be ready, Mr. Hardres. And, before you leave, inspect them, and see that there are no pistols in the party. A stray pistol-shot might bring down the Guard,” and he added with a laugh—“though Heaven knows why it should, considering what goes on in the city every night.”
The Captain did not volunteer any explanation, and Will was far too strict a disciplinarian to ask questions. But he did ask, “May Trinder go, sir?”
“Mr. Trinder may volunteer.”
It was still quite early in the afternoon when Will presented the momentous document, but we could not go on shore again, for we had had our leave. Now, the Bay of Naples is admittedly one of the most beautiful in the world; but lieutenants of less than a year’s standing are not the most devoted admirers of scenery at the best of times, and I do not think that I have ever felt so weary of anything as I did that afternoon of the Bay of Naples, Capri, St. Angelo, Vesuvio, St. Elmo, and the other two castles, the Thuilleries and Pausilippo. I have heard people descant on their beauties by the hour, but I would willingly have seen an earthquake swallow them all that afternoon if it had not interfered with our expedition. As we paced up and down the deck, they stared at us and stared at us till they almost seemed to be moving towards us. I can now quite appreciate the feeling of Vesuvio, if mountains have feelings. We were of course dying to know how many men we were going to have and what we were going to have them for; and Will loved the chance of a brush with anything—and I—I felt that we had had a precious slow time lately. The men who had conquered a whole French fleet on the 1st of August, had been compelled not four months afterwards to watch, with arms folded, a lot of wretched Neapolitans playing skittles with war at Leghorn.
Well, when night did at last fall, thirty picked men stepped up to us on the middle deck; and going round them with a lantern, Will questioned each man if he had a pistol. None had. They were as fine men as any we had in the ship, and looked forward to cutlass work, which was always popular with our sailors. A boat was ready to take us ashore. The Captain had satisfied himself as to Will’s instructions, and so far everything was plain sailing. When we opened the church door, it was a fortunate thing that Will went first. For a terrible sight rose up before him—two huge ghostly black figures, which seemed, by the light of a dim little oil lamp in front of a saint in a side chapel, to have eyes and mouth, but no nose. Fortunately Will had, from childhood, schooled himself to intrepidity, to prefer death to fear, and so never learnt what fear meant. His hand did not even seek his sword; he stood up square and fearless to await the development.