“That bark, struggling for anchorage, is like your life, dear lady; now it rises, now falls amid the waters; the sails gathered in, the pilot endeavoring to gain a position of safety; presently she will rest quietly, securely anchored on the bosom of the bay; so will it be, I predicate, of thee.”
“God grant it may,” I murmured.
As he said, after many tacks and manœuvres, the little bark succeeded in gaining safe anchorage, where riding tranquilly it rested. The birds of the ocean surrounded it, flapping their wings, and making the air resound with their mournful cries.
A road wound along the shore, bordered by a footpath: on this we wandered at random, stooping sometimes to pick the flowers strewing the way. The count philosophized on nature in his sweet voice, and nature smiled upon us wearing her fairest dress; at last, after we had gone some distance, he looked at his watch.
“The hour has come, dear lady, I must go: the carriage will be at the house to bear me away, and your forebodings will be relieved when I shall arrive at Naples and write you.”
Seeing that he was really bent on going, we retraced our steps to the house; the barouche which brought us was already there; he did not enter the dwelling, but pressing my hand with earnest fervor, stepped into it and drove away.
A week of quiet daily routine, and intense mental anxiety, succeeded the count’s departure; the days sped slowly in monotonous regularity; the nights were lonely, and would have been terrible had it not been for my child and faithful servant.
The evening of the sixth day after he went to Naples, I was sitting at the window of my room abstractedly gazing on vacancy, when I saw a man rapidly approaching on horseback, urging his spurs into the animal’s sides, and moving his arms in such a ridiculous manner, that, had my mind been at ease, I should have laughed at his absurd gestures; but in my grief they were unnoticed; suddenly reining in his horse at the door, he handed a letter to the peasant, who was taking his siesta before the door, and rode away as rapidly as he had come; the man brought it to me, and I eagerly, yet tremblingly, opened it and devoured the contents; it was from my husband, superscribed in the count’s handwriting, and as follows: