"Have you seen these often, Zamori?"
"No!" said he, shuddering and crossing himself; "but such sights never bode good. We shall have the French in Lower Calabria soon. 'Tis Fata Morgana," he added, whispering; "she dwells in the straits of Messina: I have seen her palace of coral and crystal rise above the waves. She is a mermaid of potent power: God send that we have no breeze before morning!"
Cape St. James was in sight when the sun arose from the ocean, revealing all the glories of the beautiful coast and sparkling sea. After the stout Calabrians had knelt and prayed to a rudely-carved Madonna nailed above the horse-shoe on the mast, I partook of their humble breakfast; which consisted of olives, salt-fish, maccaroni, and sour wine: the signora was too much indisposed to join us.
I looked forward with pleasure to assuming my important command at Scylla; but other prospects made me happier still: I welcomed the freshening breeze, as the little bark rushed through the surging sea which boiled over her gunnels, and roared like a cascade under her counter; while the ruin-crowned or foliaged headlands, and the countless peaks which towered above them, changed their aspect every moment as we flew on. I thought of my smiling Bianca, and hailed with joy the hills of Maida. We beheld the evening sun gilding the Syla, and at night were off Crotona, and saw the lights glimmering in its narrow streets and gloomy citadel, where Macleod was stationed with his Highlanders. Anchored close under its ramparts, lay the Amphion, and brave Hanfield's sloop of war, the Delight. The sky was dark and lowering, the sea black as ink: everything portended a rough night, and I was well pleased that our voyage was over.
My despatch for Captain Hoste required him to bring round the Ross-shire Buffs without delay to Messina; and the order was forthwith given to heave short, to cast loose the sails, and lower away all the boats.
My old friend Castagno, with a party of the Free Corps, formed the guard at the citadel gate; I was immediately recognized, and consigning the happy Francesca to his care, beat up the quarters of Macleod: I found him comfortably carousing with Drumlugas and some of his officers, who were passing a portly jar of gioja round the table with great celerity. When the curiosity and laughter occasioned by my attire had subsided, and when the general's order had been read, I related my adventures; passing over the visits to the vaults, and the discovery of Francesca D'Alfieri.
An hour before gun-fire the Buffs were all on board the frigate: her ample canvas was spread to the breezes of the Adriatic, and by sunrise we saw her vanish round the promontory of Lacinium. The Cavaliere Benedetto, with four hundred rank and file of the Free Corps, was left to hold Crotona; while, by Macleod's order, I took command of a company of those troops which the Amphion could not accommodate: that evening, bidding adieu to brave Castagno (whom I never saw again), we marched en route for St. Eufemio, where I was to see them safely embarked for Messina.
Thanks to Macleod and his officers, my attire had now become a little more professional: one gave me a regimental jacket, another a tartan forage-cap, a third a sash, and Drumlugas presented me with a very handsome sabre; of which he had deprived the Swiss colonel whom he vanquished at Maida. In this motley uniform, I rode at the head of the Free Company; which formed a very respectable escort for Francesca and her sister, who accompanied us: both were mounted on fiery-eyed Calabrian horses, a breed famous for their strength and endurance. While so many bayonets glittered around them, the ladies had no fear of banditti; Ortensia laughing merrily, made her horse curvet and prance, and lent her soft melodious voice to the jovial chorus with which the Italian soldiers lightened the toil of their morning march. But Francesca was reserved; and beneath her veil I often saw tears suffusing her mild and melancholy eyes.
"Dear Francesca, why are you so sad?" asked her sister; "O, now is the time for joy! See how brightly the sun shines on the distant sea, and how merrily the green woods are waving in the breeze. Most unkind, Francesca! for your sake, I have left my poor Benedetto in that gloomy castle of Crotona. Laugh and be joyous. Think on the happiness awaiting us at home, and the embrace of our dear little Bianca, when she throws her arms around you."
"And Luigi," added Francesca, unable to restrain her tears.