On came the stranger till her hull rose out of the water, and the report of one of her guns was the first intimation the crew had of her vicinity. They all looked round with astonishment, not unmixed with terror; but the calm bearing of their chief reassured them.
“Bow on, my comrades,” he said. “That ship will not fire at us, and in another short hour we may be among our friends on shore.”
The stranger was, as she drew near, seen to be a brig of war, and the ensign which blew out from her peak showed her to be British.
“I know her,” he muttered in Romaic. “She is no other than the accursed Ione, which has already wrought me so much injury. To escape from her is hopeless, and naught remains for me but to execute my last resolve. Paolo, come here.” He now spoke in Italian. “You know well how to steer, so take the helm and keep the raft for yonder headland.”
Paolo came aft and took the pirate’s place at the helm, who, putting his hand on his arm, continued in a whisper, “Now show your manhood, for to you I commit the charge of those men. Save their lives, if you can; and you yourself, with the testimony your sister and yon fair girl can give, will run no hazard. Say that Zappa refused to fall alive into the hands of his enemies, and bravely met the fate he had awarded to so many. Farewell.”
Whether the act of giving up the helm to Paolo, or the expression of the pirate’s countenance, made Nina suspect his intentions, she herself could scarcely tell, but her eye was upon him, while her limbs shook with dread, and, just as he was about to take the fatal leap from the raft, she sprung up, and grasped him convulsively by the arm, while her brother seized him on the other side, so that, without running the risk of upsetting the raft, or dragging them both into the water, he could not execute his dreadful purpose.
“You shall not—you shall not!” exclaimed Nina, trembling in an agony of fear, and scarcely able to utter the words she wished to speak. “Commit not so dire a crime, or fill the cup to the brim, and drag me with you. In destroying yourself, you slay me likewise.”
As the unhappy girl said this she clung to him, endeavouring to draw him to the centre of the raft.
Ada had been afraid of leaving her seat, for she saw the risk to which all were exposed by the struggle, and that the weight of another person thrown on the spot might complete the catastrophe, though her agitation was scarcely inferior to that exhibited by Nina.
“Stay, stay, signor,” she exclaimed—“before you commit the impious deed you threaten, listen to me. You would seek a certain death, and certain punishment in another world, to avoid the risk you run of meeting it at the hands of my countrymen in this—now listen to me. I have already promised Nina to intercede in your behalf, and I now solemnly vow to you to employ every means in my power to preserve your life, and I feel almost certain of success. A petition made by me under the circumstances of the case will, I am confident, be attended to, and you may yet enjoy many years of happiness with one who is so well able to afford it you.”