"Basta! and all this took place but two nights ago?" exclaimed Castelermo.
"But the worst remains to be told. Not Dante's self could describe the fierce longing for reprisals—the wrath, the horror of our people at daybreak. They beat their breasts and tore their hair: they raved like maniacs: they called on the chiefs to lead them against the foe: the air was laden with their shout—it was 'Vengianza!'
"Anon, there rose a universal cry of treason! and every man looked with dark scrutiny in the face of his comrade. In the midst of this, whilst seated with Luisa in my tent, I was surprised by seeing a hand raise the canvass wall and throw in a piece of paper; on which was written:—
"'If you value the lives of yourself and daughter, fly! A letter from the son of General Regnier, and addressed to the Signora Luisa, was last night found in your tent, and is now lying before the chiefs in council. They are at this moment deliberating on the mode of her death, whether by the cord or bullet: she is supposed to have acquainted the French with the projected assault of last night—there is not a moment to be lost—away! A Friend to the Major Gismondo.'
"I felt crushed and broken to the earth: for a time my mind was a chaos; then it was wrung with the bitterest anguish, while my cheek glowed with indignation and shame. Had I been alone, to have rushed to our nobles and repelled with scorn the insinuation would have been the thought and deed of a moment; but my child made a coward of me: the wild shouts of our lawless soldiery were ringing around us, and our stern chiefs were sitting in council, deciding upon the death of my daughter—my poor innocent Luisa.
"We stole from the camp, procured horses, and fled; but not unperceived: we have been pursued fiercely and hotly, and have passed through innumerable toils and horrors. Our only chance of safety lay in getting on board the British fleet; or under your friendly flag, Signor Dundas. Thank Heaven! it waves over Monteleone; and I trust our pursuers will respect it: but deadly, indeed, must be the purpose of those who have followed us so rapidly, and so far, without drawing bridle."
CHAPTER IX.
POOR LUISA!
Dusk had set in ere his relation concluded, and the exhausted girl had fallen into a deep slumber on his breast. Just as the waiter—who, probably, had heard the whole story through the keyhole—brought in lights, a party of armed horsemen galloped through the Porto Nuovo, and halted.
"Which way, said you?" asked one.