“Ah! your honour, it was a bad job. I ought to have pitched those two lubbers overboard at first;” and growling and lamenting, Bill followed his officer along the base of the cliff, where we must leave them, and retrace our narrative many years in our next chapter.
CHAPTER XV.
A few pages respecting the family of the De Bracys will here be necessary for the clear understanding of our story.
Early in life Sir Oscar De Bracy and his sister, Anne, were left orphans. On attaining his twenty-first year Sir Oscar, then a lieutenant in the navy, came into possession of the family property. His sister had gone abroad with her aunt, a Mrs. Webb, the widow of a Colonel Webb, who dying, had left his wife a very handsome fortune. Being in delicate health, Mrs. Webb was advised to try a warm climate; so, taking her niece, at that time only seventeen, they proceeded to the Continent, and settled for some time in Naples.
The Court of Naples, at this period, was accounted one of the most corrupt in Europe; but Mrs. Webb, being of a retiring disposition, lived in comparative seclusion, in a villa, situated on the River Chiaga, then the favourite drive of the pleasure-seeking Neapolitans.
Anne De Bracy was charmed with the lovely scenery and the delicious climate. At night she would sit for hours at her window, enjoying the air, so refreshing after the heat of the day; as the moon stood high in the heavens, silvering with its soft light the columns of smoke from Vesuvius, as they rose upwards in curling wreaths towards heaven; then the countless fishing skiffs, with their lights flashing in the waters from their sterns, to attract the lobsters and large fish, which rise at once to the light, and are caught. To Anne De Bracy, the tall, dark figures on which the bright flames glanced, amid the calm stillness of the moon-lit scene, appeared almost demon-like. Almost close beside the handsome villas and mansions along the river, are to be seen the strange dwellings of the poor fishermen, which are scooped out like caves from the hard rock; many of them without any kind of window, receiving the light and air needed from the open door.
Anne De Bracy, with her aunt, who rarely stirred abroad till evening, used often to walk along the front of these primitive dwellings, lighted within by the oil lamp, revealing to view the careless and life-loving family within; the girls gaily singing and chatting at times, the men mending nets, and making bark-woven baskets.
One evening, a rather sultry one, Mrs. Webb and her niece were walking along the beach, when the former complained of a sudden faintness, and before they could even reach one of the cottages, or rather caves, she fainted in the frightened girl’s arms. Miss De Bracy uttered a cry of alarm; and as she did so, a young man, in a fisherman’s costume, rushed from behind a jutting rock, and ran forward in time to catch Mrs. Webb in his arms.
“She has only fainted, lady,” said the stranger, as he bore the insensible Mrs. Webb towards the rock, from which ran a rill of pure water, with which he gently bathed her face. “Do not be frightened, she will soon revive.”