The Italian looked conscience-stricken and miserable. He could not meet the glance of the pirate’s eye; he dared not confess what he had done; and yet he knew it must be instantly discovered.
“Could I leave my sister?” he asked. “Could I leave one whom I love dearer than life itself to perish amid the raging fight, when my arm might save her? Do you suppose that my eye is so dull, my heart so callous, that I could behold the rare beauty which almost won your affections from her who had sacrificed all to you, and yet feel no impression? Know, that he whom you have treated as a tyrant does his slave, whom you have scorned and deceived, has a heart capable of burning with a passion far more intense, far brighter, far purer, and more enduring than the flickering flame which yours can alone nourish.”
“What is this rhapsody about?” exclaimed Zappa, thinking that Paolo had gone mad.
“When you go below, you will discover,” answered the Italian, and walked to the other side of the deck.
When Ada Garden came to her senses, she found herself in the cabin of the Sea Hawk, and Nina bending over her, and applying such restoratives as she had at command. She was soon sufficiently recovered to explain to her astonished friend the means by which she had come there.
“And Paolo could have done this. He who professed to be ready to die for you, to tear you from the very arms of your friends, when they were on the point of recovering you. Alas! my unhappy brother—his mind must have forsaken him.”
“Whatever the cause, I have sorely suffered, and I have no one to trust to now but you, Nina. Through you alone can I now hope to be restored to my friends.”
As Ada was speaking, the pirate chief entered the cabin. He started back, on seeing her, and an angry frown came over his brow. “What! and my suspicions are true,” he exclaimed, in a voice of passion. “And that mad youth has ventured to bring you on board. You, lady, who have been the cause of the disaster we have suffered, who have already so nearly proved my destruction.”
He ground his teeth as he spoke, and the two defenceless girls saw that he was working himself up to the same awful pitch of fury to which he had given way when he so barbarously wounded Nina.
“But where is this wretched youth?” he continued. “Here, Momolo—Balbo,” calling to some of his officers, “seize Signor Paolo, and drag him here. Take care that he does not leap overboard to avoid you. He has performed an act, by which he has well merited death, and he knows his guilt is discovered.”