"And do they not confirm every syllable the Signor Smees has said?"
"So far from it, that I do not even find the name. It is true, several distinguished orators of that nation are styled English Ciceroes; but then all people do this, by way of commendation."
"I do not know that, Signore--I do not know that--it may happen in our Italy; but would it come to pass, think you, among remote and so lately barbarous nations as England, Germany, and France?"
"Thou forgettest, friend Vito," returned the vice-governatore, smiling now, in pity of his companion's ignorance and prejudices, as just before he had smiled in kindness, "that we Italians took the pains to civilize these people a thousand years ago, and that they have not gone backward all this time. But there can be no doubt that 'ze Ving-y-Ving' means to enter our bay again, and there stands the 'Signor Smees' examining us with a glass, as if he, too, contemplated another interview."
"It strikes me, Vice-governatore, that it would be a sin next to heresy to doubt the character of those who so loyally put their trust in us. No republican would dare to anchor in the bay of Porto Ferrajo a second time. Once it might possibly be done; but twice?--no, never, never."
"I do not know but you are right, Vito, and I am sure I hope so. Will you descend to the port and see that the forms are complied with? Then glean such useful circumstances as you can."
The crowd was now in motion toward the lower part of the town to meet the lugger; and at this suggestion the podestà hurried down in the throng, to be in readiness to receive the "Signor Smees" as soon as he should land. It was thought more dignified and proper for the vice-governatore to remain, and await to hear the report of the supposed English officer where he was. Ghita was one of the few also who remained on the heights, her heart now beating with renewed apprehensions of the dangers that her lover had again braved on her account, and now nearly overflowing with tenderness, as she admitted the agreeable conviction that, had she not been in Porto Ferrajo, Raoul Yvard would never have incurred such risks.
Ghita delle Torri, or Ghita of the Towers, as the girl was ordinarily termed by those who knew her, from a circumstance in her situation that will appear as we advance in the tale, or Ghita Caraccioli, as was her real name, had been an orphan from infancy. She had imbibed a strength of character and a self-reliance from her condition, that might otherwise have been wanting in one so young, and of a native disposition so truly gentle. An aunt had impressed on her mind the lessons of female decorum; and her uncle, who had abandoned the world on account of a strong religious sentiment, had aided in making her deeply devout and keenly conscientious. The truth of her character rendered her indisposed to the deception which Raoul was practising, while feminine weakness inclined her to forgive the offence in the motive. She had shuddered again and again, as she remembered how deeply the young sailor was becoming involved in frauds,--and frauds, too, that might so easily terminate in violence and bloodshed; and then she had trembled under the influence of a gentler emotion as she remembered that all these risks were run for her. Her reason had long since admonished her that Raoul Yvard and Ghita Caraccioli ought to be strangers to each other; but her heart told a different story. The present was an occasion suited to keeping these conflicting feelings keenly alive, and, as has been said, when most of the others hastened down toward the port to be present when the Wing-and-Wing came in, she remained on the hill, brooding over her own thoughts, much of the time bathed in tears.
But Raoul had no intention of trusting his Jack-o'-Lantern where it might so readily be extinguished by the hand of man. Instead of taking shelter against any new roving republican who might come along behind the buildings of the port, as had been expected, he shot past the end of the quay and anchored within a few fathoms of the very spot he had quitted that morning, merely dropping his kedge under foot as before. Then he stepped confidently into his boat and pulled for the landing.
"Eh, Signor Capitano," cried Vito Viti, as he met his new protégé with an air of cordiality as soon as the foot of the latter touched the shore, "we looked for the pleasure of receiving you into our bosom, as it were, here in the haven. How ingeniously you led off that sans culotte this morning! Ah, the Inglese are the great nation of the ocean, Colombo notwithstanding! The vice-governatore told me all about your illustrious female admiral, Elisabetta, and the Spanish armada; and there was Nelsoni; and now we have Smees!"