In vain she questioned Marianna. Her lively attendant knew but little—and even that, she had been taught, it would be beneficial to her mistress to conceal. The young Italian had once entered the cabin while she was awake, and had felt her pulse, in order to be better able to prescribe for her, but had remained not a moment longer than was absolutely necessary in her presence. She resolved, however, the next time he came to detain and question him; for the description given of him by Marianna, already made her place confidence in him. She had not long to wait for an opportunity; for that evening, just before sunset, his knock was heard at the cabin doors, and with the usual caution he entered.
“How is your mistress?” he asked of Marianna. “Does she feel stronger?”
“She is awake to answer for herself,” returned the Maltese girl, “and will gladly speak to you.”
The young man started—he had so generally found her unconscious, that he seemed not to have expected to find her able to question him. He, however, crossed the cabin and stood with his arms folded, leaning against the bulkhead, where she could not observe his countenance. Ada was the first to speak.
“I am glad you have come, signor,” she said, in a low tone; “for I am anxious to express my gratitude to you for the attention with which, as my maid tells me, you have treated me during my illness, and to which I feel sensible I am much indebted for my recovery.”
“Lady, I have but performed the duty in obedience to the order of another,” he replied, in a tone so calm that it sounded almost cold to her ear. “I found you suffering, and I have employed what knowledge I possess of the healing art to restore you to health. I rejoice to find that my efforts have not been totally unavailing.”
“To you, at all events, my gratitude is due,” returned Ada. “And I would lay myself under a still further obligation, by asking you to tell me what ship I am on board, how I came here, and to where I am being conveyed?”
The Italian hesitated, as if he was framing an answer, which Ada remarked to herself. At last he replied,—“Lady, your first question I may answer. You are on board a man-of-war belonging to the patriot Greeks, who are struggling for their liberty against the infidel Turks; and you are in possession of the commander’s cabin. How you came here I am less able to inform you, and thus much only, further, I know, that we are sailing for one of the islands of the Grecian Archipelago, where you will be landed, and placed with those who will tend you carefully. Lady, I regret that I cannot tell you more.”
The suspicions of Ada were much increased on hearing these words.
“I believe that you, signor, would not willingly deceive me,” she observed. “The very tone of your voice forbids the supposition. But tell me, as the Greek patriots are on friendly terms with the English, should I desire to be placed on board a British ship-of-war, of which I believe there are several in these seas, would not your commander comply with my wishes?”