WHO IS HE?
From a state of dreamy apathy—a delirium between sleeping and waking: the very fever of desperation—the increased roar of ocean aroused me. Through the sullen gloom I discerned, a-head, a mighty barrier of rocks, against which the sea was running with incredible fury, casting the foam of its breakers to the clouds, and hurrying the wreck onwards to total destruction. I heard my heart beat: the critical moment was come, for safety or destruction. I drew off my boots, buttoned up the despatches in the breast of my coat, and casting another glance at that frowning, sable, and appalling barrier of rock, felt my heart sink within me: yet that heart had never quailed in the breach, or on the battle-field.
An exclamation of sincere piety escaped my lips, and suppliantly my hands were raised to Heaven. Next moment there was a frightful crash! the parting wreck sank beneath me, the deck split under my feet, and I was struggling breathlessly in the dark water amid the dashing breakers; which were covered with froth and foam, and fragments of spare masts, yards, ribs, cargo, planks, &c.: from these I received more than one severe blow; while blinded with spray, sick at heart, and trembling in every nerve, I swam towards this black and terrible shore. Thrice my hand touched the slippery rocks, and thrice the greedy waves sucked me back into their whirling vortex: but one flung me headlong forward on a ledge, and I grasped, convulsively, the strong tough sea-weed which grew on its beetling face.
Fervently thanking Heaven for my escape, I clambered up the slippery cliffs beyond the reach of the breakers; whose bitter and heavy spray beat over me incessantly. After stopping for a few minutes to recover breath and recall my scattered energies, I ascended to the summit: the level country spread before me, and a few lights sparkling at a distance, announced a neighbouring town. A distant bell tolled the eleventh hour as I walked forward along a road bordered by trees: but my knees bent tremulously at every step; for I felt still the roll of the ship and the dull boom of the ocean, and the hiss of its salt frothy breakers yet rang in my ears.
As if its object had been accomplished in the destruction of the little schooner, the storm, which had raged so long, now began to die away: the trees became less agitated; the veil of dark clouds, which had obscured the face of heaven, withdrew; and the silver stars were seen sparkling in the blue dome above.
Though rejoicing in my safety, and pitying the poor fellows who had perished, I moved on in dread and doubt, shivering with cold and misery. My uniform was drenched with salt water, and stuck close to me, and my head and feet were without covering. I longed to learn whether Fate had thrown me on the Calabrian shore, or on that of Otranto: if on the latter, I felt certain of becoming a prisoner to the French; whose commanders often displayed, at that time, more of the savage spirit of the Revolutionists, than of that chivalry which distinguished the brave soldiers of the empire. When I thought on the many years of captivity which might elapse ere I again beheld Bianca or my home, I almost regretted that the ocean had not swallowed me up; immediate death appearing preferable to the sickening future I anticipated: hope deferred for years, promotion stopped, and prospects blighted, perhaps, for ever.
As I walked slowly forward, my feet were soon cut by the hard flinty road; which I pursued towards the town. But the appearance of a handsome little villa, in the centre of a lawn, standing by the wayside, changed my intentions: I did not hesitate to approach the house; deeming it safer to acquaint an Italian gentleman with my condition, than to proceed, with the chance of being captured by the quarter-guard of a French camp or cantonment.
Passing through an ornamental wicket, I approached the villa, which was surrounded by a paved terrace, enclosed by a stone balustrade: every window was dark, save one on the ground floor, which appeared made to open like a folding door. In front of this a flight of marble steps descended from the terrace, between two pedestals, on each of which reposed a sculptured lion. I stood before the window, between the crimson curtains of which the interior was revealed; and its decorations and furniture were more splendid than the general aspect of the villa led me to expect.
An aged man, of a venerable, benign, and truly noble aspect, sat near an ebony table, on which he leant, intently reading by the light proceeding from the globe of a silver lamp. He wore a baretta of crimson velvet, adorned in front with a gold cross, and a cape and stockings of scarlet peeped out from under an ample dressing-gown of faded brocade, which enveloped his person. A few thin silvery hairs escaped from beneath his cap, and they glittered in the lamplight; his forehead was high and commanding, the curve of his lip was majestic, and there was an indescribable dignity in his whole aspect. His cheek and brow were pale; yet, at times, his eyes sparkled as brightly as those of an Italian girl, as he conned over an old and discoloured piece of parchment, to which various seals and coloured ribbons were attached.
I know not what it was that agitated me at that moment, but there was something in the presence of that venerable stranger which, as it were, drew me insensibly towards him; and all dread of acquainting him with my situation, and entrusting him with my liberty and safety, vanished. Once more, ere essaying, I looked steadily at him. He was replacing the charter in an iron safe, and had drawn forth another, to which a seal, like a pancake, was appended. The light flashed more fully on his features than it had done before; and, strange to say, they appeared to me like those of an old friend, or of one whom I had a dim recollection of having seen before: but where, I endeavoured in vain to recollect.