easily prove who I am, still, as you know I might find the detention
inconvenient, I shall therefore sail early in the speronara.  Your
letters may be addressed to me as before, but bear in mind that your
information is generally too stale.  Now I will get a little rest, if
you will show me where I am to sleep."

"Wonderful man," muttered the Jew, as he quitted his guest, who had
thrown himself on a couch, and was already asleep.  "He has no fear of
treachery."

The Greek knew that the Jew was a wise man, and would not kill his
golden goose.  The Jew had procured some ordinary morning dresses for
the Greek and his companion, and habited in them, with Italian cloaks
thrown round them, they next morning fearlessly took their way to the
quays.

Manuel was in attendance, and Paolo immediately embarked, and went on
board the speronara, while the Greek returned once more into the city.
Had any one watched the movements of the two strangers, they would have
observed that the Greek never for an instant allowed the Italian to
leave his side while they were on shore, and that the latter regarded
him with a look much more of fear than of affection, somewhat as an
ill-used dog does his master, though he still follows his footsteps.

As the Greek walked along, he made observations on several vessels which
had been mentioned to him by the beggar, and afterwards looked into the
police-office, where his accusers had not arrived.  Again, therefore,
returning to the quay, he summoned the boatman, Manuel, who had returned
for him, and directed him to pull on board the speronara, to which he
had previously sent an order by Paolo to get under weigh, and heave to
till he should come on board.

"Let draw," he exclaimed, as soon as he stepped on board, "we will try
the quality of your craft, Master Alessandro, steer as if we were bound
for Syracuse, and afterwards we will run off shore.  In case any vessel
should be sent in chase, I wish to mislead them as to the course we have
taken."

"_Capisco_--I understand, signor," said the Sicilian.  "We have a good
breeze, and shall reach the _Sea Hawk_, if she is at her post, long
before dark."

"Did you ever know her miss her rendezvous?" said the Greek.  "And now,
my good Paolo, let me ask how it has fared with you since yesterday?"

"As it may with a man weary of the world," returned the youth, sighing
deeply.

"You will yet do bravely, Paolo," said Caramitzo.  "How like you now the
life of a sailor?  We have variety and excitement enough to please you?"

"Too much--I should prefer less change, and a more tranquil existence,"
returned the youth.  "But I am willing to undergo all to please you."

"The very words your sister would have spoken.  Come, come, Paolo, you
must rouse yourself, and learn to enjoy the pleasures of life, instead
of moping and weeping as she does."

As the Greek spoke, the youth's eyes flashed angrily; but as if with an
effort, he controlled himself, and his countenance directly assumed its
usual dejected look.

The speronara, as has been described, kept first to the northward; and
after standing in that direction for six or seven miles, she eased off
her sheets, and ran off to the eastward.  After three hours a large
polacca brig was seen from her deck a couple of points on her larboard
bow.  On this a small flag was run up to the end of her main-yard, which
was immediately answered by the brig.  The speronara then hauled her
wind on the starboard tack which brought her head looking almost into
Valetta harbour, while the brig hove to on the same tack.

The Greek had for some time been looking through a spy-glass towards
Malta, which lay like a line of blue hillocks rising from the sea.

"Here Paolo," he said, at length.  "Do you take the glass, and tell me,
what vessels you see, which appear to have come out of the port we left
this morning."

For some time Paolo made no answer.  He was examining the intervening
space between them and the shore.

The Greek, meantime, reclined on a seat to rest, for he was weary with
his exertions.

Paolo at last addressed him.

"I make out a square-rigged vessel of some sort, steering this way.  She
looms large."

The Greek sprang to his feet, and took the glass.

"She is the one we are in search of," he exclaimed.  "Up with the helm
and let draw the head sheets."

The orders were obeyed, and the speronara ran off again before the wind
towards the brig, with which she had communicated, and the head of whose
topsails were just seen above the horizon.  It took a couple of hours
before the speronara hove to close to her, by which time the day was
almost over.

The brig was a remarkably fine looking vessel, with a long low hull,
painted black, with sharp bows, a clean run and a raking counter.  She
was what is denominated polacca-rigged; a name given to designate those
vessels which have their lower masts and topmast in one piece; thus
evading the necessity of tops and caps, and much top-weight.  Her yards
were very square; her masts, which were polished, raked somewhat; her
rigging was well set up, and very neat; and her canvas looked white and
new.  She was in truth a very rakish-looking and beautiful craft.  As
the speronara drew near, a boat was lowered from the brig and manned,
and now came alongside.

As soon as the boat, which was full of armed men in the picturesque
costume of Greek sailors, came alongside, Caramitzo turned to the
padrone of the speronara:--

"Alessandro," he said, "your personal services to me are over, for the
present; but I have occasion for the use of your vessel for a few hours
longer.  Do you and your people go quietly on board the brig, and remain
till my return.  Some few of my followers will man the speronara in the
mean time."

The padrone of the speronara would have expostulated, but the Greek cut
him short, and intimated that, as just then his will was law, if he did
not consent with a good grace, he would be compelled to do so--pointing
at the same time to the boatload of desperadoes alongside.  Seeing
therefore that resistance was useless, the padrone and his crew were
transferred to the brig, and thirty Greek seamen took their place.  The
exchange was made very rapidly, as their chief, for such he was whom we
have known as Argiri Caramitzo, appeared in a hurry.

An officer, who seemed to have charge of the brig, came off in a smaller
boat at the summons of the captain.

"Understand," he said, "you are, if possible, to keep the English brig,
you see to the westward, just in sight; at, indeed, about the same
distance we are now from her.  Steer east-northeast, which is her
course, and look out for the speronara.  I am about to visit the brig,
and may perhaps be able to render you a good account of her."

The officer bowed.

"I understand your orders clearly," he said.  "We would rather, however,
see you returning in the brig, than in the speronara."

"I will not forget your wishes," the chief answered laughing, as the
boat shoved off.

"Now my men let draw the foresheet--now she has way on her--haul it well
aft, and see if she will lay up for the brig yonder.  Ah, she does it
bravely--call me when we near her."

And wrapping himself in his cloak he lay down to sleep, or, it might
have been, to meditate on the daring plans and projects working in his
active brain.  The speronara flew over the waves like a sea-bird on the
wing.  She soon neared the brig which Paolo at once recognised as the
English merchantman they had passed in Valetta harbour.  He had heard
from the chief who were the passengers on board, and the _ruse_ to be
practised had also been confided to him.  He had been endeavouring to
beguile, to him, the weary hours of the voyage with reading, while the
chief slept, for sleep refused to visit his eyelids.  A thought seemed
to strike him.  He wrote hastily in the book, and tearing out the leaf,
placed it in his bosom.  He then roused his companion from his slumber.
The Greek started up and eyed the approaching brig.

"It is she," he exclaimed.  "That vessel, my men, is to be your prize;
but much caution will be required to take her.  She is armed, that is to
say, she has four real guns and two wooden ones; but from what I saw of
her captain and crew, I think they are likely to fight.  They are very
different sort of characters, are those English, to the Italians we are
accustomed to deal with, who call on their saints to help them, and from
the Turks, who make up their minds it is their fate to be taken and
thrown overboard.  The difficulty, on the contrary, with these English,
is ever to persuade them that they are beaten; and, as they don't care
for the Saints, and don't fear the devil--heretics that they are--they
trust to their own right arm, their cutlasses, and big guns; and by
Achilles, if you do manage to throw them overboard, they will swim about
in the hopes of getting a cut at you.  Now, where we cannot succeed by
force, we must employ stratagem; and I intend to go on board and to
inform them that the _Sea Hawk_ is an Austrian ship-of-war, anxious to
protect merchantmen from the attacks of the corsair Zappa, and to
revenge herself on him for his capture of one of their brigs of war, of
which they will have heard.  If I find them unprepared and unsuspicious
of us, we will at once run alongside and take possession; and, as I am
anxious not to be under the necessity of throwing the crew overboard, we
will stow them all away in the hold of the vessel, and make the padrone
carry them with him to Sicily.  If he murder them on the voyage that
will be no fault of ours; and if he lands them, they can be no evidence
against us at any time, for they have not seen our brig, and Signor
Sandro will not dare to give any correct information, though, of course,
he will tell a number of lies to exonerate himself; but for that we are
not to blame.  Now we will heave to, to windward of our friend, and see
the boat clear for launching, to carry me and Paolo on board her."

Having concluded his observations, the chief and Paolo went below, and
soon returned so completely disguised in the costume of Sicilian
boatmen, as I have described, that the Greeks at first scarcely knew
them.

As they passed the brig, they hailed her, and then hove to.  The pirate,
for there is little use concealing the character of the pretended
prince, with his young companion, whom he had instructed how to act,
stepped into the boat, manned by two stout hands, and pulled alongside
the brig.  He was somewhat startled and disappointed on discovering the
preparations which were made to receive him, should he appear as an
enemy; and, seeing Colonel Gauntlett at the gangway, with whom he had
held so much conversation on the previous day, it occurred to him at
once that it might be dangerous to trust his own voice, and he therefore
resolved to make Paolo the spokesman.  His greatest trial, however, was
to come, when, in the presence of Ada Garden, his countenance was
exposed to the bright light of the cabin lamp.  The admiration he had
felt for her at the ball was increased when he beheld her again; but it
was not so great as to make him forget that now was not the time to show
it, and it was with some feeling of relief that he found himself once
more in his boat, fully convinced that, even with his thirty men, it
would be a work of considerable danger to attempt the capture of the
_Zodiac_ by means of the speronara.  He accordingly determined to return
on board the brig, dismiss the speronara, and keep a bright look out
after the merchantman, till he should find a favourable opportunity to
take her unawares.  As the speronara sailed almost two feet to one of
the _Zodiac_, he was soon able to pass her and to reach the polacca brig
before she was discernible through the darkness.  As the Greek stepped
on the deck of the brig, the crew received him with a shout of welcome.

"Long life to our captain," they exclaimed.  "Long life to Zappa."

The Prince Caramitzo or the pirate Zappa, for under either of those
names that worthy person may in future be recognised, assured his
followers of the satisfaction their affection afforded him, and then
ordered them to tumble the Sicilians into their speronara, and to make
all sail without delay.

The _Sea Hawk_ was kept before the wind, and next morning, at daybreak,
they found themselves still a long way ahead of the English brig.  The
pirates, who had on board a number of Austrian uniforms, and seamen's
dresses, and flags, indeed every means of disguising the ship to appear
like a man-of-war of that nation, now, by their chief's orders, set to
work on the necessary preparations to make her assume that character,
while Zappa himself appeared in the uniform of an Austrian captain.

His purpose was to dodge on, under easy sail, till the _Zodiac_ came up
with him; and then, under pretext of friendly converse, to run her
alongside, and to pour his men on her decks before her crew should have
time to make any resistance.  The gale of wind, which so suddenly sprang
up, prevented the execution of this plan, and preserved the _Zodiac_.

When Zappa observed her bearing down on him, he was in hopes that his
ruse had succeeded, and that his vessel was taken for what he wished her
to appear; but when he saw, on his following her, that the English brig
made more sail in the very height of the gale, and at last carried on in
a way that seemed even greatly to hazard her safety, he began to fear
that he was suspected.  He, however, was determined not to lose sight of
her again, and accordingly made sail in chase, with the hopes of finding
a favourable opportunity to execute his purpose at the termination of
the gale.  At length it fell calm, and his vessel lay about four miles
from her.

We have seen that he was a man of extraordinary nerve, and he bethought
him that he would try once more to blind the master and crew of the
_Zodiac_, and, ordering a boat to be manned, he pulled boldly on board
her.  Had not Bowse been forewarned, there can be little doubt but that
he would have triumphantly succeeded, and there can be no reflection on
his want of talent either in planning or executing that he did not do
so.  Had he known as much as does the reader, he would probably have had
nothing to do with the speronara, which was suspected, but would at once
have run alongside the _Zodiac_ in his own vessel which was unknown.
When he found himself, on his second visit to the _Zodiac_, so nearly
caught in his own net, he pulled back to the _Sea Hawk_, vowing that he
would not again be foiled.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

The master of the _Zodiac_, as he laboured without ceasing at the
important work of getting his ship once more in sailing trim, every now
and then glanced at the pretended Austrian with feelings in which the
undaunted courage of the British seaman were fearfully mingled in his
bosom with dark forebodings as to the result of an engagement with an
enemy in every respect so much his superior.  His eye would also, ever
and anon, range round the horizon in anticipation of those rising signs
of the coming breeze, which he prayed Heaven might yet be long delayed
till the work was completed, and then that it might come from the
eastward, as it would thus give him the weather gage, and enable him to
manoeuvre to better advantage in the coming fight; for he had already
seen most convincing proof of the superior sailing qualities of the _Sea
Hawk_; that he had no expectations of being able to avoid it, even
should he be able to make sail before the arrival of the breeze.  With
voice and example, he cheered on his crew to the work; the topmast had
been got up, and the rigging fitted over its head; but the topsail-yard
was not yet across, and much remained to be done to make their previous
labours of any avail.  Bowse himself had taken his meals on deck, as had
his mates; and the men had snatched but a minute to satisfy their
hunger.  He had just before sent them below to their dinners, when, as
he was taking a look at the enemy, to see what she was about, he
observed beyond her a dark blue line on the horizon.

"Ah," he muttered; "there's no doubt what is coming now, and long before
the canvas is spread, we shall have the breeze blowing strong, and the
brig coming down on us.  Well, we've done our best, and men can do no
more.  I'll let the poor fellows have this meal in quiet; it will be the
last many of them will eat, I fear.  Ah!  Heaven only knows if any on
board here will ever taste another, if those cursed villains get hold of
us--and nothing but a miracle can save us, that I see--yet, we'll make
them pay dear for victory, at all events."

He took two or three turns on the deck, watching his antagonist, and the
coming wind; and from his cool and calm exterior, no one would have
supposed how fully he felt the dangerous position in which his ship was
placed.  Broader and broader grew the line, till, at last, the wind
filled the loftier canvas of the corsair, which was spread to catch it.
The time, he saw, was, come to prepare for the final struggle.  He
summoned the mate from below.

"Turn the hands up," he cried out, in a firm, sharp tone, to be heard
throughout the ship.  "We shall have work before long to warm them up a
bit."

The men sprang on deck with alacrity, casting an eye at the stranger as
they went to the work in hand.

The topsail-yard was ready fitted, and all hands now joined in swaying
away on it.  Meantime, the wind, though still light, had filled the
pirate's sails, and she was stealing through the water towards them,
before they even felt the wind.  At last a few catspaws, the
_avant-couriers_ of the stronger breeze, began to play round them.  The
foresail and the fore-staysail were the only sails they could yet get to
pay the brig's head off before the wind.  These were now set; but the so
doing delayed the work of bending the topsail, and the _Sea Hawk_ was
now coming fast up with them.  As soon as the _Zodiac_ was got dead
before the wind, the main-topsail and topgallant-sails were hoisted; the
studdensail-booms were run out, and studdensails set, which much made
amends for the loss of the headsails, as long as they desired only to
keep before the wind.  Notwithstanding, however, all the canvas the
_Zodiac_ could set, the corsair still came up with her hand over hand.
Bowse watched till he thought she had come within range of his guns, and
he then ordered one to be brought up, and pointed at her over the
taffrail.

As soon as Colonel Gauntlett, who was on deck, heard the order given, he
exclaimed that he and Mitchell would assist in working the guns, while
the crew continued bending the sails.

The gun was accordingly trained aft, but part of the taffrail had to be
cut away to work it.

"Try to knock away some of his spars, sir," cried Bowse, as the colonel
prepared to fire.  "Everything depends on that."

The colonel fired, but the shot fell short.  The gun was instantly again
loaded, but before they had time to fire, the pirate yawed and let fly a
bow chaser, the shot from which flew through the main-topsail, though
without doing further damage.  The colonel again fired, but again the
shot fell short, to his no slight rage.

"I see how it is, sir," observed Bowse, "that fellow has a long nine in
his bows, while our gun is only a carronade.  He will be doing us
mischief, I am afraid."

"Let him get a little nearer though, and we will give him two to one,"
returned the colonel.

Scarcely had he spoken, when another shot came, which cut away the
topmast starboard shrouds.  Hands were immediately sent aloft to secure
the rigging, but this again delayed the progress of the work on the
foremast.  Notwithstanding the occasional yaw the pirate was obliged to
make in order to fire, he still gained on the _Zodiac_.  At last he got
within range of her carronades, to the great satisfaction of Colonel
Gauntlett, who forthwith commenced firing his gun as fast as Mitchell
could sponge and load it.  The shot, however, told with little or no
effect; a few holes were made through his head-sails, but no ropes of
importance were cut away on board the _Sea Hawk_.  The countenances of
the pirates could now clearly be seen.  They had exchanged the Austrian
uniforms for their proper Greek dresses, which added considerably to the
ferocity of their appearance.

Finding that the carronade frequently sent its shot on board, they
hauled up a point, so as to bring their vessel on the starboard quarter
of the _Zodiac_, and at the same time to keep beyond the range of her
guns, while they could still send the shot from their long bow chaser on
board her.

The brave master groaned when he saw the manoeuvre, for he felt how
completely he was at the mercy of the enemy.  The colonel,
notwithstanding, still continued working his gun, till with rage he saw
that his shot again fell short of the enemy.  The _Zodiac_, it must be
understood, bearing chiefly after sail, could not venture to haul up so
much as to bring the enemy again astern, or he would have tried to do
so.  His gun was worked quickly, and with great precision; shot after
shot told with fearful effect on the spars and rigging.  The men had
perseveringly laboured the whole time in spite of the shot flying about
them, but just as they had bent the fore-topsail, and were swaying away
on the yard, a shot struck the fore-yard, and cut it completely in two.
The men saw that their efforts were all in vain, and letting go the
halyards, rushed of their own accord to the guns.

"It's no use running, sir," they exclaimed, with one voice.  "Let's
fight it out while we can."

The pirate's shot continued their work of destruction.  The main topmast
next received a wound, and in a minute afterwards, the breeze
freshening, down it came on board, hampering up the deck.

"Clear away the wreck of the topmast, my lads," exclaimed the master.
"And then I hope those scoundrels will give us a a chance of punishing
them."

The order was obeyed, and the gun, which had been trained aft, was
replaced, and the other two guns were got over to the starboard side.
The brave crew then gave forth a cheer of defiance at the enemy,
expecting that they were about to run them on board; the pirates were
waiting, though, till their guns had produced more effect; a shot at
last came, and carried away the peak halyards, and deprived her of all
power of manoeuvring.  The _Zodiac_ was now at their mercy; and they
bore down upon her; but instead of running her aboard on the starboard
side, they luffed up when just under her stern, and poured in the whole
of their starboard guns; then, keeping away again, they hauled up on the
other tack joining their larboard battery, and then once more, as if
content with their work, they kept away, and ran her on board on the
starboard side.

Three of the _Zodiac's_ crew had been disabled, and Bowse himself was
badly wounded; but the remainder fought their guns to the last.  The
pirates, as the sides of the two vessels ground together, threw their
grapnels on board, and crowded the rigging to leap on the deck of the
_Zodiac_.

The master, and Colonel Gauntlett, led on the English crew to oppose the
enemy--never did men fight better, but numbers bore them down--the
struggle was in vain, the colonel was first struck down, and the master
directly after, and though the two mates continued fighting some time
afterwards, one being killed and the other wounded, the survivors gave
way, and were either driven down below or overboard.

The tall figure of the pirate leader was the most conspicuous in the
fight.

"The brig is ours!" he exclaimed, as he took up his post at the top of
the companion steps.  "But she is too slow a sailer to be of any use to
us; we will therefore take the most valuable part of her cargo on board,
and desert her.  We have no time to lose; for all this firing may have
been heard by some British cruiser, who will be down upon us before
long--Now, Paolo, follow me."

The pirate crew instantly got the hatches off, and set to work to select
what they considered most valuable, and to transfer it to their own
vessel.

Ada Garden had often read of tempests at sea, of shipwrecks, and
battles; but it had never occurred to her that she might some day
witness their horrors, or suffer from their dreadful effects.  Now the
reality of the scenes she had before pictured to herself, as events
passed by, and unlikely again to happen, was palpably displayed before
her.  She had scarcely recovered from the terrors of the the storm when
her uncle came below, and, with unusual tenderness in his manner urged
her not to be alarmed at the noise of the guns which were about to be
fired; at the same time speaking with confidence of their ultimate
success.  Though she trembled with anxiety at what she heard, she
promised not to give way to fear, and entreated to be allowed to come on
deck.  To this he of course would on no consideration consent, and after
much argument, and by showing her the useless danger she would run, he
made her promise that nothing should induce her to leave the cabin till
he himself came down to summon her.  She again had recourse to her
Bible, and, with Marianna sitting at her feet, she endeavoured to calm
her mind, and to banish her terror as she had done during the gale.
Except from the occasional discharge of the guns there was now, perhaps,
much less to cause her alarm, if she could have helped thinking of the
possible result; but this, notwithstanding her uncle's assurances, she
could not do; for she understood too well the great superiority of the
pirate vessel; and though she knew that her countrymen would struggle to
the last, yet she felt that they might be overcome; and she scarcely
dared to contemplate what her fate might be.  The alarm of her young
attendant was almost beyond control.

"Oh, Holy Mary!" she shrieked out, as the first shot was fired; "the
dreadful battle has begun, and we shall be killed.  Oh, why did we leave
our dear Valetta, to come on the stormy sea, when one moment we are
about to be drowned and the next murdered--ah me, ah me!" and the poor
girl burst into tears.  Another shot was heard, and she started and
trembled afresh.

Ada tried to console her.  "Listen now, Marianna," she said, "those
shots are fired from this vessel, and, therefore, they cannot hurt us,
though they may our enemies.  It is only those which are sent from the
other ship can injure us; as yet, none seem to have been discharged."

"May the saints prevent the wretches from sending any!" exclaimed
Marianna through her tears.  "Perhaps they will not fire on a British
ship."

"Heaven grant it may be so," said Ada, "but I fear not.  That sounds as
if our ship had been struck."

It was the sharp sound of a spar being wounded, which, like an electric
shock, reverberated through the vessel.  Another and another followed.

"Oh, the enemy must be close to us!  My dear, dear mistress, what is
going to happen?" shrieked the poor Maltese girl.

"Put your trust in Heaven, Marianna; and, though we are unable to
discern it, the means may at the last moment be found for our
preservation," said Ada solemnly.  "I would that I were allowed to
venture on deck, to learn that my uncle has not suffered in this
dreadful fire."

"Oh, do not leave me, my mistress," exclaimed Marianna, clinging to her
dress.  "You will be killed, to a certainty, if you go up among all the
fighting.  No, you shall not go!"

Ada did not attempt to disengage herself, for she remembered her promise
to Colonel Gauntlett, and she felt how worse than useless she would
there be.  Still louder and more frequent became the roar of the enemy's
guns, and the crashes, as the spars and rigging came falling down on
deck.  Then came other frightful noises in quick succession, as the
pirate poured in her two broadsides, and lastly the loud, grating sound,
as she finally ran alongside, and the two vessels ground together as
they lay locked in their deadly embrace.  At the same instant arose the
shouts of defiance raised by the British seamen, mingled with the
shrieks of their wounded, and answered by the fierce cries of the
pirates, as they threw themselves on the _Zodiac's_ deck--next was heard
above their heads the loud trampling of the feet of those engaged in
mortal struggle.  Sometimes Ada fancied that her friends were
victorious, and that the pirates were driven back; then again, by the
more frequent sound of the stamping of feet, and the cries and
exclamations in a strange language, she felt too sure that the enemy had
poured still greater numbers on board.  For a few moments the noise of
feet increased; there were next some heavy, dull sounds, as of persons
falling, and then arose the loud triumphant shout of victory; but the
sounds were strange--it was that of the enemy; all, then, for a time was
silent--what had become of her uncle and the brave crew?  With her heart
palpitating, and her mind in a chaos of confusion, she could not resolve
what to do.  She could just discern the footsteps of persons descending
the companion-ladder--they entered the main cabin.  The door of the one
in which she with Marianna sat was violently opened, and she beheld the
countenance of the pirate Zappa.  Too truly all then was lost.  The
excess of her horror and alarm overcame her and she fainted.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

When the first glimmerings of consciousness revisited the mind of Ada
Garden, she felt that some dreadful calamity had befallen her, without
being able to comprehend its nature or extent.  An undefined terror, an
insupportable oppression at the heart made her feel that death must soon
release her from her sufferings.  She had neither the power nor the will
to stir a limb, or to open her eyes to discover her real state.  The
noise of the engagement and the thunder of the guns, the shrieks and
cries of the combatants, still rung with fearful clearness in her ears,
yet without enabling her to remember the causes which had produced them.
She felt that she had been deprived of her only guardian--that she was
alone in the world without friends to protect or counsel her; but how
her uncle had died she could not comprehend.  Then she thought she saw
him sinking down into the deep blue sea, and his countenance was turned
towards her with the smile it wore when he was pleased, and down, down
he sunk till he reached the yellow sand at the bottom, where, through
the clear water, she could see him resting, and beckoning her to raise
him up; and then there seemed to pass a vessel full of strange, fierce
forms, shrieking and mocking her; and whenever she stooped down to aid
the old man, it would come between them and conceal him from her.

At last a deep-drawn sigh gave notice that she was returning to a
consciousness of the dreadful reality.  She opened her eyes with
difficulty, and for an instant gazed round her, and then again closed
them.  That glance had revealed to her that she was no longer in her own
cabin, though she still felt that she was at sea.  For some time after
this she remained with her eyes closed, trying to collect her scattered
thoughts, till at last she remembered the fight with the _Sea Hawk_, and
the appearance of Zappa at the door of her cabin.

The thoughts of what had occurred were almost sufficient to drive back
her mind to a state of insensibility, if not to madness itself; but she
felt that all the courage and energy she could muster were requisite for
her guidance, and by a strenuous exertion of the intellect, she
conquered the feeling which was so nearly overpowering her.  Once more
she opened her eyes, and tried to raise herself, that she might discover
where she was.

The movement she made attracted the attention of some one who appeared
to be occupied at a little distance from her, and who instantly flew to
her side.

"Oh, my dear mistress, the saints have heard my prayers, and you have
come to life again!" exclaimed the voice of Marianna, who immediately
presented herself before her, with a countenance in which pleasure
overcame every other feeling.

"Oh, tell me, where am I?  What has happened?" exclaimed Ada, eagerly;
but the exertion or excitement caused her again almost to faint.

"Hush, hush, my dear mistress," whispered Marianna.  "Do not be alarmed.
You are not in a condition to ask questions, nor to listen to my
answers, so I shall say nothing.  You have been very ill with a fever,
and you are to take this medicine, which will do you much good."

As she spoke, she presented a glass, filled with a cooling beverage,
which, as Ada felt very thirsty, and her mouth dreadfully parched, she
gratefully drank off and lay back on her pillows.

She saw that she was in a large cabin, furnished and ornamented with
much taste; and through the open stern-ports, from which a light pure
breeze blew in and cooled her fevered brow, she saw the calm blue sea
glittering in the sunshine, and in the far distance the land rising in
picturesque hillocks from out of the water.  While she was gazing at
this calm and soothing scene, and meditating on the meaning of
Marianna's words, she fell into a quiet slumber.

The Maltese girl watched her mistress till she saw that she slept, and
then busied herself in putting the cabin in order, and in dusting the
furniture, as if she were in a room on shore.

The cabin was, as has been described, in the after part of the vessel,
and occupied its entire width.  It was fitted up with bird's-eye maple,
and the mouldings were gilt.

There were two large sofas, or standing bed-places, on either side, with
brass bars overhead, by which a curtain could be drawn round them.

The space between the two ports was occupied by a rack, on which were
arranged with much taste, a number of richly-embossed arms, pistols,
swords, and daggers--and against the bulkhead was another stand, filled
with muskets and cutlasses, brightly polished.

On the couch farthest from the door, on the starboard side, lay Ada;
with her feet towards the stern, and her head supported by pillows; so
that the full force of such air as could find its way through the ports
should blow on her face.  As she slept, a fresh bloom slowly crept over
her cheek, which had hitherto been of a deathlike paleness, and as her
faithful attendant watched its appearance, she hailed it as a sign of
returning health.

In the centre of the cabin was a table on which now stood a large vase,
filled with sweet-scented flowers, which spoke of the shore and
civilisation.  There was, indeed, in the arrangement of the cabin
generally, a mixture of elegant luxury and warlike preparation, which
gave it the appearance of the cabin of a yacht fitted for a voyage among
savage or treacherous people.  Whatever she was, Marianna seemed
perfectly at home.  Her work-basket was on the table, and various things
belonging to it were scattered about; as were several articles of female
apparel, which showed also that she considered the cabin sacred to her
mistress and herself.  When she had arranged everything to her
satisfaction, she again sat down composedly to her work, and amused
herself, as she plied her needle, by singing a song of her native
island, in a tone, however, too low to run any risk of disturbing her
mistress.  After some time she got tired of singing, and then as some
people are apt to do, who are fond of keeping their tongues going when
they have nobody else to speak to, she began to talk to herself.  She
did not raise her voice, it is true, above a whisper, but still it was
sufficient to give exercise to that little fidgety occupant of the
mouth.

"Well, this is all very nice, and very pleasant, and very agreeable; and
the gentlemen are very civil, and very respectful, and very kind; but I
wonder when we shall ever reach the shore," she said; and then she went
on singing again, and then once more began to talk as follows:--"I
suppose, as they say, we shall at last reach the shore, and everything
will be as it should be, and my mistress will be happy and contented
after all her troubles--poor dear, sweet, young lady--I'm sure she ought
to be.  Well, it does puzzle me, exceedingly--that it does--I cannot
make it out, no more, I am sure, would wiser heads than mine.  But there
is one thing I am very sure of, that Signor Paolo is one of the wisest
and most amiable young gentlemen I ever saw.  So melancholy, too, he
seems--something very dreadful weighs on his spirits, I am sure.  I
don't think he is in love--I thought so at first; but when I hinted that
he was, he gave the nearest approach to a smile of which he is capable,
which I'm sure he would not have done, if he was a victim of the tender
passion.  One thing is certain, however--he saved the life of my sweet
young mistress.  If it had not been for his knowing how to doctor, I'm
sure she would have died--dear, dear, how sad it would have been--what
would have become of me, too!  Well, when she recovers, and I tell her
all that has happened, I am sure she'll think the same of him that I do.
When she does begin, she will be asking me so many questions--I wish
that I could answer one half of them--first, she'll want to know what
has become of the poor old gentleman, her uncle.  Well, he certainly was
a passionate, grumpy, sour old man as ever lived.  Yet he had his good
points--he had a kind heart, which made him do many a kind thing in his
own rough way.  He was generous, too, when he thought people deserving,
and then he dotingly loved my young mistress, and intended to leave her
all his money.  What shall I tell her has become of him?  I can tell her
nothing; for I know no more than she does; or what has become of the
brave Captain Bowse, or his polite mates, or even of that stupid
long-legged fellow, Mitchell.  I'm afraid, after the dreadful noise I
heard, they must all long ago have gone to the other world.  But to
believe so would make my young lady sad, and would agitate her, and
Signor Paolo says she must be kept quiet, so I will tell her I know
nothing.  Ah! that will be the safest plan."

While she was running on in this way, a gentle knock was heard at the
door--she sprang up, and went to it cautiously.

"Who is there?" she asked.

"It is I, Paolo--may I enter?" answered a voice from without.

"Oh yes, indeed you may, Signor Paolo," she whispered through the
keyhole, and at the same time withdrew the bolts from the door.  As she
did so she fancied she heard a bolt drawn slowly back outside.  When the
door opened, a young man entered, habited in the Greek costume, though
his features were more like those of one born in Italy, as was the
language he spoke.

"Has the lady yet awoke, and have you given her the potion I left for
her?" he asked in a cautious tone.

"_Si, signor_, she not only awoke, and drank up the draught, but she
began to talk, and has now gone to sleep again," replied Marianna.  "See
how sweetly she sleeps."

The young man stepped across the cabin so that he might be able to see
Ada's countenance.

He observed the slight roseate tinge which had visited her cheek, and
her calm, quiet breathing.

"The lady does well," he whispered.  "I will send you another draught to
give her when she awakes, which she will not however do until towards
the evening; and then, when she speaks, try to tranquillise her mind,
and induce her again to sleep.  The slightest agitation might be fatal
to her."

"Oh, then, signor, I will tell her anything you advise," answered
Marianna.  "But I am much puzzled what to say; and I want you to tell
me, among many other things, where we are going; because I know that
will be one of the first questions she will ask me, and I'm sure I can't
answer it."

The young man hesitated before he spoke.

"Tell her," he said, at last, "that we are going to a place where she
will be kindly and honourably treated; but that you know not the name of
it.  I am not the commander of this vessel, nor can I direct her course;
and I am not allowed to say more than I have."

"Oh, but you have great influence with him who is commander; and you can
make him do what you like, I am sure," urged the Maltese girl.

"Indeed, I cannot," answered the young man, mournfully.  "My influence
extends but a short way, and can be but rarely exerted in the cause of
right.  Were I to attempt too much, I should become altogether
powerless."

He stopped, as if he had said too much, and seemed about to leave the
cabin.  He again, however, went up to Marianna, and whispered--"It may
be better for your mistress and yourself that she remain as if overcome
with illness till the conclusion of the voyage.  Urge her not to rise,
or to attempt to go on deck; and tell her that the leech who has
attended her, has prescribed perfect silence and calmness.  You
understand me?"

"I do, signor--though I cannot comprehend your reasons," returned
Marianna.  "But, at all events, you can tell me when the voyage is to be
brought to a conclusion.  It has lasted already a long time.  I did not
think the Mediterranean sea was so large."

"Even there I cannot satisfy you," returned he who was called by
Marianna Signor Paolo.  "Certainly not for many days; it may be even for
some weeks.  You observe, that we do not always continue sailing.  We
visit the shore occasionally, and, sometimes, remain hours together at
anchor."

"I cannot say exactly that I discovered that," answered the girl.  "I
thought sometimes the ship appeared to sail very slowly, and that we
were very near the shore; but I knew not that we were altogether at
rest.  Yet I cannot understand why you should not tell me where we are
going to."

"Perhaps I myself do not know," returned Paolo evasively.  "The
commander of this ship does not always say where he will next steer."

"There again--who is your commander?" asked the girl.  "It is strange
you should not have told me his name."

"You are much too curious, Marianna," answered Signor Paolo.  "I must
again warn you to prevent your mistress from asking questions, which you
cannot answer; and now I must leave you, for the present; for I dare not
remain long at a time here."

Saying this, to the great disappointment of Marianna, who had made up
her mind to enjoy a long chat, he took his departure; and she bolted and
locked the door behind him--saying, as she did so, "I will do as he
tells me, at all events; and, as I may not go out, no one else shall
come in without my leave."

The bright rays of the sun were streaming through the stern-ports, and
glittering on the arms and the gilt mouldings of the bulkheads, when Ada
Garden again awoke.  Her eyes were dazzled by the bright refulgence
which they encountered, and almost blinded, she closed them, till
Marianna bethought of drawing the curtain across the foot of her couch.
In so doing she saw that her mistress was awake.

Now, although the glare of the sunlight had disturbed Ada's slumbers, it
had had the beneficial effect of imparting somewhat of its brightness to
her spirits; and instead of the gloomy oppression which she had before
experienced, she now felt a glow of hope circling round her heart; and
she was fully prepared to credit the favourable account of the state of
affairs which Marianna was about to give her as soon as she was
questioned.

"Where am I--what has happened?" she asked, endeavouring to sit up.

"You must take another draught before I am at liberty to tell you
anything, my dear signora," answered Marianna, bringing her the goblet
which Paolo had sent.  She drank the cooling mixture, and it served
still further to revive her.  "Now let me arrange your pillows, and I
will tell you all you want to know," said the faithful girl, arranging
her couch.  "There, now you are comfortable!  Well, first, we are with
very kind, considerate people, who do everything I wish; and we are as
safe as we can be on board ship--though I wish ships had never been
invented; then we are going to a very beautiful place--though, when we
are to get there depends on the wind and other circumstances, which I am
not clever enough to explain."

She was running on in this style, when Ada cut her short by abruptly
asking--

"Where is my uncle?  Is he on board?  Why does he not come to me?"

"Ah! there are some little mysteries which I cannot explain just now,
and that is one of them," promptly returned Marianna.  "The signor
colonel is not on board the ship, nor is the good Captain Bowse--they
all went away in the other one; and we--that we might be much safer--we
came on board this one.  Here we are, and here we must remain, till you,
my dear signora, can get well enough to go on shore; but there is no
hurry, for we could not be better off than we are now.  So, as you have
asked a great many questions, which your doctor said that if you did I
was not to answer, yet I have done so, you must try and go fast asleep
again, and forget all about it."

Ada was still too weak, she discovered, to talk; and her mind had not
either sufficiently recovered its clearness to perceive the glaring
evasiveness of her servant's replies; so, satisfied that her
apprehensions of danger were groundless, she amused herself by examining
the fittings of the cabin, and by watching through the open ports the
magnificent effect of the setting sun, which now just dipping in the
water, seemed to convert the whole ocean into a sheet of liquid gold.
She thus discovered that the ship was steering an easterly course, from
which she concluded that she was still on her voyage to Cephalonia.

Two more days passed away, and served to restore to Ada Garden her
strength both of mind and body, though the uncertainty of the past and
present, and painful anticipations for the future, much retarded her
complete recovery.

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?"

"The commander of this ship is anxious to do all he can to gratify you,
lady; but to do as you wish may not be in his power."

"Signor," said Ada, glancing at his features.  "I have heard that voice
before.  You speak Italian well; but so do many Greeks.  Tell me, are
you the commander of this ship?"

"Lady, I am not," returned the young man emphatically.  "I am but acting
as the surgeon of the ship, to soothe the anguish of those who are
wounded.  I have no authority on board."

"Then why does not the commander visit me?" said Ada, "I would see him
and urge my request to be placed under the protection of the British
flag.  Surely he would not refuse to do so."

"Oh, lady, do not ask to see him," exclaimed the Italian, forgetting his
cold reserve and previous caution.  "You know not what misfortune you
may bring on yourself by so doing.  He believes that you are now sick,
almost to death, and that your only chance of restoration to health is
rest and quiet on shore."

"You speak in enigmas," said Ada, quickly taking alarm.  "Surely the
commander of a man-of-war would not detain an English lady against her
will; and my having recovered would make him still more anxious to
enable me to return to my friends."

The Italian stood for some minutes lost in thought.

"You know not lady how you came to be on board this vessel," he said.
"You now compel me to tell you.  Your attendant informs me that the ship
in which you sailed from Malta was attacked by a corsair, and captured;
but that you and she were the only persons conveyed on board the pirate
vessel; and that you, having fainted during the engagement, were
unconscious of all that took place.  It appears that for a short time
only you remained on board the pirate, still in a happy state of
unconsciousness of the misfortune which had befallen you, when we caught
sight of the ship, chased, and captured her.  You and your attendant
were found on board, respectfully treated, and in possession of the
chief cabin.  This was a suspicious circumstance, for who could tell
that you were not willingly on board."

"Ah!" exclaimed Ada, almost smiling at the atrocious supposition.
"Surely no one could believe that I was acting in consort with pirates?"

"Lady, I do not; but all may not so readily believe the truth," returned
the Italian.

"But am I and my innocent attendant then to be punished as pirates,"
asked Ada, with a hysterical laugh.

"Scarcely so, lady; but you may be required to give evidence against
them," returned the Italian.

"I can give no evidence against them," said Ada; "for, as you have been
informed, I have been deprived of consciousness since I was found on
board the English brig."

"The observation you make, lady, is much in your favour," remarked the
Italian in a low tone.

"Then I am to understand," continued Ada, not noticing it, "that I am,
with an attendant, a prisoner in this cabin."

"So I am compelled to confess, with much regret, is the case," replied
the surgeon.

"Then I understand it all," she ejaculated, compressing her lips, and
fixing her eyes upon the young man, who had advanced a few paces to the
after part of the cabin.  "From man I can expect no aid,--Heaven will
not desert me."

"Lady, God never deserts those who trust in him," he replied, about to
quit the cabin.

"Stay," exclaimed Ada.  "Those features, too, I have beheld before.
Tell me where it was I saw you?"

"Lady, fancy often strangely deceives us," returned the surgeon, in his
former cold tone, and before she had time to ask another question, he
had quitted the cabin.

She, as Marianna had before observed, heard a bolt drawn across it.

On board what vessel they were there might be a doubt; but there was
none that they were prisoners.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

Malta lay basking on the calm blue ocean, in the full radiance of a
mid-day sun, hot, white, and dazzling, when Her Majesty's brig _Ione_
made her number in the offing, approaching the port from the northward.
It was observed at the signal station at the top of Government House,
and from thence telegraphed to the guard-ship.  At the same time another
sail appeared from the eastward.  She soon was made out to be a
merchantman.  Both had a fair wind.  The brig of war stood in for the
harbour on a bowline, her yards braced up on the larboard tack; and a
very beautiful object she appeared, with all her canvas to her royals
set to a nicety, as she rounded Fort Saint Elmo, and then kept away a
little and run to her former anchorage, when, at a wave of her
commander's hand, as if by magic, the whole crowd of canvas was in an
instant clewed up and furled, and she brought up off Fort Saint Angelo.
The merchant brig, which had the yellow flag flying, ran towards Port
Marsa Musceit, and deliberately furling one sail after another, she
dropped her anchor at the quarantine station, for she had come from the
land of the plague, and many a day must pass before she could get
_pratique_.  Captain Fleetwood ordered his gig and hastened on shore, in
order to report himself and to deliver his despatches to the governor.
He had just returned from a trip to Naples, where he had been sent to
convey despatches and also to bring back a few casks of light wines for
the governor's table.  He was cordially received by the old veteran,
with whom he was a favourite.  He was just taking his departure when he
was called back.

"It may be for your satisfaction to learn, Captain Fleetwood, as I know
that you are in a hurry to reach England, that you are to be sent home
immediately with despatches and the mails," said the governor kindly.
"I dare say we shall see you out here again before long, from what I
hear, eh?"  Charles Fleetwood actually blushed.

"I shall certainly come back to the Mediterranean, with or without a
ship, as soon as I can," he answered; "and I hope I shall find you well,
sir."

"I shall be glad to see you, my lad, and I wish ye every success," said
the old governor kindly, as Fleetwood took his final leave.  On his way
back to the ship he called at the post-office, for he was anxious to
ascertain, without delay, if there were any letters for him.  He hoped
to receive one from Cephalonia.  He felt sure Ada would have contrived
to write to him; and as he made the inquiry his heart beat much faster
than usual.  He had a packet of letters delivered to him; he ran his eye
hurriedly over the addresses.  Her handwriting was not to be seen.  They
were all from England.  He then made every inquiry in his power from the
shipping agents and others about the _Zodiac_; but nothing had been
heard of her.  It was supposed she must long ago have arrived at her
destination.  None of Colonel Gauntlett's friends had heard of him.
Disappointed and out of spirits, he at last returned on board.  He was
afraid that he should be obliged to leave Malta without hearing of her
safe arrival; and then how many months might pass away before he might
receive a line from her.  He did not, however, forget that others would
be glad to hear that they were to revisit their homes, and as he passed
Mr Saltwell, the first lieutenant, who was superintending the business
of sending the governor's casks of wine on shore, he told him to prepare
for sailing to England in a day or two.  Before the captain had thrown
himself on the sofa in his cabin, which he did as soon as he reached it,
the joyous news had flown through the ship.  Jemmy Duff was the first to
carry the news into the midshipmen's berth.

"Huzza, my lads!" he exclaimed, whisking round his cap, and letting it
come down over the eyes of Togle, another youngster of his own standing,
who was reeling after the fatigue of furling sails, and eating his
dinner,--"Old England for ever!  Who'll bet that we shan't be kissing
our sweethearts at home this day six weeks?"

"Why, what do you mean?" cried several, looking up.

"Who'll take my bet?" replied Duff.

"Why, I will," answered Togle, who did not like being disturbed,
clearing his head at the same time from the cap.  "I will, because I
don't think such an ugly-looking chap as you are can have a sweetheart
to kiss."

Whereon he got the cap pressed down harder than before, with his nose in
a slop of rum-and-water on the table.

"But what makes you sing out in that way?" asked Tompion, the second
mate.  "You don't mean to say that we are homeward-bound, youngster?"

"I do, though; and the skipper has just come on board to say so,"
replied Duff; and thereon there was a general shout of congratulation,
for though all hands were very happy together, the thought of change was
exciting, and that of home was dear to most of them.

"Well, the hope of the Duffs will be once more pressed to the maternal
bosom.  I congratulate you, Jemmy," said Togle, who was trying to get
his own nose in order, after its flattening in more senses than one, by
putting that of his antagonist out of joint a little.

"Well, now we've had our cheer, and have all been flattering ourselves
with the thoughts of home, I'm ready to take any bet Duff likes to make
that we shall not be in England this day six weeks, or two months, if he
likes, for I believe, after all, it's a hum of his; and I propose we cob
him as a punishment for deceiving his Majesty's liege subjects and
gallant officers as he has done."

"I can prove, though, that I speak the truth," exclaimed Jemmy, who saw
the day turning against him.  "Any one of you go and ask Mr Saltwell.
He heard it from the captain, I tell you."

"No, no," put in Togle.  "Punishment first and proof afterwards.  That's
the way the Turks manage, and they are sensible people.  You can take
the cobbing first, and then go and ask Mr Saltwell, or the skipper
himself, if you like."

"You go and be damned, Togle," retorted Duff.  "You know well enough
that I'm speaking the truth; and mind, old chap, I shall keep you to
your bet,--two months, you said."

"I made no bet," answered Togle.  "You offered to bet yourself, but you
didn't propose what it should be,--a dinner at the Star, or--"

Just then a personage appeared at the door of the berth, who was
immediately appealed to.

"Oh! come in here, Muhajiar; you'll know all about it," cried Jack Raby.
"Take a glass.  We haven't seen you for some time.  Have you heard
whether we are going home?"

"So the purser's steward told me, gentlemen, and it is generally
believed throughout the ship," returned the individual addressed, who
entered with such a bow as he could contrive to find room to make, and
took his seat at the table, where with much gusto he drank off the
porter offered to him.  He was a stout, tallish man, with a good
expression of countenance, and most of those who remember Malta in those
and even later days, will recollect him as one of the most respectable
tailors in the place.  He had been, I believe, in the marines; but
getting his discharge, set up for himself as a builder of garments, and
soon managed to establish a very thriving business.  He was always on
the watch, and the moment a ship dropped her anchor he would come on
board to take orders.  He knew everybody and everything that was going
forward, and was, consequently, a great authority.

"Huzza! it is true, for Paolo Muhajiar has heard it," exclaimed Togle,
looking hard at Duff.  "Well, Jemmy, I'll let you off your bet--but you
will see that I am right."

Signor Paolo Muhajiar took his leave, for he was not likely to get any
orders, at all events, to be paid, if he executed them; and the berth
was soon cleared of its rightful occupants--some to go on shore, others
to their duties, and the rest to see what was going forward in the
harbour.

The scene there was amusing.  There were boats of all sorts and
descriptions alongside; but there is one peculiarity of which Valetta
may boast, to the disadvantage of nearly all other ports.  The boats
intended for the conveyance of passengers are kept in good order, and
beautifully clean; and the boatmen belonging to them are also very
careful to dress neatly--their linen always looking as white as snow.
Some of the boats alongside had goats on board, and the aquatic
goat-herds were offering to milk them to supply milk for the officers'
tea.  It is not a bad way to secure pure milk.

The three mids of the _Ione_--Jack Raby, Duff, and Togle--were on the
poop leaning over the quarter-rail, and amusing themselves by discussing
affairs in general, and watching the panorama round them, when a boat
with two thin, slight lads pulled out of the dockyard creek.

"He for dive, signor," sung out one of them, looking up at our mids.

"He says he'll bet you he'll dive to the bottom and be back again sooner
than you will, Togle.  So overboard with you, and show him he's wrong,"
said Duff, trying to heave over his messmate.

"He says he'll bring up a shilling if you heave it overboard," answered
Togle, retaliating by seizing the first coin he could lay hands on out
of Master Jemmy's waistcoat pocket--it was fortunately only
half-a-crown.  "There, Smaitch, it's too much for one of you though, so
both of you be after it."

And holding it up to show, before Duff could snatch at it, it was
glancing through the clear water of the harbour.  Over went both the
lads after it, eager to appropriate so rich a prize, and it is to be
feared, had they had knives, they would have fought for it under the
waves, and have neither of them returned.  Luckily Duff, as he could not
save his own coin, had managed to seize a shilling from Togle, which
served to attract the attention of the one who was furthest from the
great prize, and both of them came up to the surface an instant
afterwards, with the pieces of money in their hands.

"Me for dive, signor--me for dive," they both again sung out, hoping to
get another coin from Raby.

"No, no more me for dive, you blackguards," he answered, shaking his
head.  "You've had quite enough from these two Master Greens already."

And the lads, after singing out a few more times, pulled on ahead, still
crying, "Me for dive, signor; me for dive;" though little, beyond a few
pence, did they get from the crew of an old Mediterranean cruiser like
the _Ione_.

"Now suppose there were sharks here as they have in the West Indies, it
would not be quite so easy to go overboard as it is," observed Duff, who
quickly recovered his temper, which he had lost with his half-crown.

"Oh, these fellows would laugh at a shark," answered Raby.  "Why even
the blackies don't fear them, and will attack and kill the largest.  By
the by, did you ever hear of the big fellow they keep in Port Royal
harbour to do the duty of guard-boat?  Not a man dares swim on shore
when big Tom is on duty, and he never takes a snooze they say."

"You don't mean to say so," said Togle, "but how do they manage to keep
him there?"

"Oh, the Government promised him a superannuated pension when he's no
longer fit for work; but, as he finds he must go on shore to receive it,
he is obliged to keep afloat; though he's been so many years at it that
no one remembers when he first came on the station."

"He must be a rum old joker," observed Duff.  "Hillo, here comes old
Monsieur Collet with his cargo of ginger-beer.  Let's go and get some;
for I'm very thirsty."

And away they all three scrambled to the gangway, to which a boat had
come with a little wizened old man in her, and laden with bottles of
ginger-beer, and other refreshing drinks.

"Hand us up ginger-beer there," sung out Jemmy Duff.  "But, I say,
Monsieur Collet, remember, no pop--no pay."

"Oh, no, signor.  All my ginger-beer pop very much."

And, to prove the truth of his assertion, off went half a dozen of his
bottles fizzing away together; some, however, remained, and the old
Frenchman insisted on himself cutting the lashings of the corks to give
full effect of the pop.  He would then put a far from clean thumb over
the mouth to prevent the liquid from escaping; but still the froth would
fiz and fume round it.

"Thank ye, Monsieur Collet, none of your digitalis for me," remarked the
assistant surgeon, who observed the operation, which, however, few
others seemed to care for.

The attention of the idlers was soon drawn off from old Collet, and his
refreshing draughts, towards a boat which pulled alongside, filled with
musicians, who if they produced sounds not especially harmonious, took
care that they should be loud enough to be heard far and wide.

"Huzza for the Banjee," sung out some of the men forward.  "Come,
Smaitch, tip us a tune there--Go ahead, Banjee!" and on this requisition
the performers in the Banjee boat began to exert their talents to the
great delight of their hearers, who rewarded them with showers of pence.
Not, however, of this character are the principal Banjee boats; which
really contain very good musicians, who enliven the harbour with their
sweet harmony, and are often some of the best performers from the Opera
House.  Valetta harbour is in truth as lively and animated, as
interesting and picturesque a sheet of water as is to be found in any
part of the world.  On the north side of where the ship lay were the
dazzling white walls of the city towering towards the blue sky, with the
Marina below them, and numerous vessels moored along the quays; on the
other side the frowning batteries of Fort Saint Angelo, and the Venetian
looking canal, called Dockyard Creek; many of the houses having doors
cut through the rock opening down to the water, the whole wearing an
aspect more Oriental than European.  Then the boats, darting about in
every direction, mostly painted bright green and yellow, with upright
sterns rising high above the gunnel, and great big eyes painted on the
bows--very often having the name of some ship or other on them in
addition.

And the boatmen, with their long red or blue caps, the tassel reaching
to their waists, their gay waistcoats, their shirt-sleeves rolled up
above their elbows exhibiting their brawny arms, their red sashes, their
blue overall trousers, and their nankeen ones below, are not unworthy of
remembrance.  But the most picturesque objects are the lateen sails with
their long tapering yards either wing and wing when skimming along
before the wind, or heeling over when close-hauled upon it.

Such in part was the scene viewed from the deck of the _Ione_.

Captain Fleetwood sat meditating in his cabin.  He had read all his
letters from home.  They contained nothing that was not satisfactory,
and yet his thoughts were far from cheerful.  He was out of spirits at
not hearing from Ada; from being unable to gain any information about
her.  He, however, had received no positive orders for sailing, and he
trusted that tomorrow or the following day some vessel from Cephalonia
might arrive, and bring a letter for him; still his heart would sink
with forebodings of ill, when he recollected the suspicions he had
entertained, and the warnings he had given to Bowse respecting the
speronara and her crew.  A man who is in love, when he is absent from
the object of his affections, is certainly very much to be pitied, if he
has the slightest particle of imagination; for he is sure to employ it
in conceiving that all sorts of misfortunes and miseries, and disasters,
are befalling her.

He was aroused from his meditations by a message from the governor,
requesting to see him immediately, on urgent business.  He sprang up,
put on his cocked hat, buckled to his sword-belt, and ordering his gig
to be manned, pulled on shore as fast as he could, and toiled upwards,
by steps innumerable, to the governor's palace.

"Ye will be surprised, doubtless, Captain Fleetwood, at my sending for
ye again to-day," said the governor, in a kind tone, as he entered.
"But sit down, mon, sit down and rest yourself, for I have a very
extraordinary communication to make to ye, which I cannot fail to think
will agitate ye; and I therefore considered it advisable to speak to ye
on the subject myself."

"For Heaven's sake tell me what it is, sir," exclaimed Fleetwood, who,
on first entering, had seen that something was wrong; and his fears
having already pointed all round the compass, he had settled that it was
in some way connected with Ada Garden.

"Ye must be calm and tranquil, mon, in a case like this; for ye will
require all your judgment and discretion to discover the means of
accomplishing your object;" continued the governor, not noticing the
interruption.  "And as I considered ye a mon in every way calculated for
the purpose I have in view, and, moreover, particularly suited, from
other reasons, which ye yourself will allow, I instantly made
application to employ you on it."  Fleetwood almost groaned.  He could
not again venture to interrupt the governor, though he was bursting with
impatience to have his fears relieved or confirmed.  "Well, I see ye
wish to be informed on the subject, which is very natural, Captain
Fleetwood; and, therefore, I must premise that I have this day received
notice of the arrival of a brig, a merchantman from Smyrna, and that she
is now performing quarantine in Port Marsa Musceit.  Her master has
written a statement which has been forwarded to me; and which, if
correct, and I see no reason to doubt it, proves that further efforts
are required to put down piracy and robbery and murder in these seas;
and by God they shall not be wanting as long as I'm ruler here."

"Well, sir; well, sir," ejaculated Fleetwood.

"But ay, the statement.  It is to the effect that the brig _Mary Jane_,
William Jones master, on her voyage from Smyrna to Malta, did in
latitude ... degrees north, longitude ... degrees east, sight the hull
of a vessel dismasted.  That not lying much out of her course, she
hauled up for her; and on a nearer approach she appeared to be
water-logged, by her lowness in the water, and the heavy way in which
she rolled; that on getting close to her, the _Mary Jane_ was hove to,
and a boat lowered into the water, into which the first mate and a
boat's crew got, and pulled on board her.  It appears that the mate,
when he first got alongside, thought that she had been brought into her
present condition by a storm, from the appearance her shattered bulwarks
presented; but that, climbing up her side, she found a number of
shot-holes, and round-shot sticking in them, and her spars and rigging
lying about the decks, evidently destroyed by shot.  He therefore came
to the conclusion that she had been hotly engaged with an enemy of very
superior force, as she herself only carried four guns; and it would
require a large number, or else very rapid firing, for a long time, to
send so many into her as he observed.  He soon discovered that there was
no human being alive on board her; but on more minute examination, he
was of opinion, from the state of the decks, that there had been some
severe fighting, and a number of people killed on them.  All the bodies,
however, had been thrown overboard.  The hold of the ship had been
ransacked, was almost empty, as were the cabins, which had evidently
been fitted up for passengers, and there were a few articles of female
gear scattered about, which made him suppose that there had been ladies
on board."

"Great Heaven!" ejaculated Captain Fleetwood, starting up.  "The name,
sir--the name?"

"The name is just what the mate had considerable difficulty himself in
discovering; for, you see, the master had a fancy to have it painted so
low under the counter, that it could not be seen, sunk deep in the water
as the ship now was.  At last, however, one of the men who accompanied
him, found a book with the name of Bowse in it, which he concluded to be
that of the master."

"The same," groaned poor Fleetwood.  "It was the _Zodiac_.  She is
lost--lost to me for ever.  Oh, Ada, Ada!"

And again he groaned, as if death could alone relieve his heart from his
load of misery.

"Hoot, mon, hoot! ne'er say die while there's life!" exclaimed the bluff
old governor.  "Ye have no positive proof that any one ye care for is
dead or lost to ye.  I tell ye, the mate of the _Mary Jane_ found no one
dead on board the vessel; and, as she had no boats remaining, it is just
a plausible supposition that the survivors of the crew and the
passengers may have escaped from the ship they thought was sinking in
one of them; and we may hear of your friends turning up somewhere or
other; for I do not pretend to deny that, when I first received notice
of the outrage, I felt convinced that my friend, Colonel Gauntlett and
his bonnie niece were among the sufferers."

"Too true, they were, sir," replied Fleetwood, by a great effort,
endeavouring to collect his thoughts for active service.

"It was that supposition, and not ignorant also of your attachment to
the young leddie, which made me resolve to apply, instanter, that the
_Ione_ might be sent in the first place to search for the crew and
passengers of the late brig the _Zodiac_; for I ought to say, she sank
while the _Mary Jane_ was yet close to her; and then, it will be
gratifying and soothing to your feelings, under the circumstances, to
chastise the miscreants who have perpetrated this atrocity--and I do not
suppose, Captain Fleetwood, that ye will be disposed to spare them more
than I should."

And the grim old soldier gave a look which indicated no inclination to
be lenient.

"We will hang every mother's son of them; and teach other villains that
these seas can no longer be made the field for the exercise of their
marauding disposition.  Ye understand, Captain Fleetwood--ye may take
them alive if ye can; but ye may sink, burn, and destroy them all,
sooner than let one escape."

"I comprehend, sir, clearly," answered Fleetwood.  "When can I sail?"

"I am expecting your orders every instant," replied the governor.  "It
is a considerate change of destination, to be sure; but I knew the duty
would be gratifying to you; and, fortunately, your brig is the only
vessel on the station fit to be sent on it, while the despatches can go
home by the _Racehorse_ as well.  Sit quiet a few minutes till the
orders arrive; and I will in the mean time glance my eye over a paper I
have to read."

Captain Fleetwood threw himself back in his seat, and covered his eyes
with his hands.  The old governor, who had purposely been more
circumvolute even than usual, in order not too suddenly to shock his
feelings, looked up at him with a kind expression, which showed that he
truly entered into his wretchedness.

"I have been considering, sir," said Fleetwood, suddenly looking up,
"what clue can be found of the pirates' places of retreat; for, if they
did not destroy those on board the _Zodiac_, I feel sure that they will
have carried them off."

"Ah! that is the proper spirit with which to meet a misfortune,"
exclaimed the governor, rising and placing his hand on Fleetwood's
shoulder.  "Look it in the face, and think how you can best overcome it.
You deserve to succeed--and you will succeed, mon, I am sure.  Well, as
to the clue, that is an important consideration, which must be thought
of."

Captain Fleetwood remained some time longer in consultation with the
governor.  His orders, which had been sent up to the palace, were handed
to him, and with them in his pocket he hurried on board.

"Mr Saltwell," he said, as he ascended the side, "hoist the blue-peter,
and take every means of getting all hands on board.  We sail to-night
for the Levant.  I shall be happy to see you as soon as convenient in
the cabin."

"Ay, ay, sir," mechanically answered the first lieutenant, who, as he
looked at his commander, at first thought that he had gone out of his
mind; but he soon saw that something extraordinary had happened to cause
this sudden change in their destination, and without stopping further to
consider what it was, he took the necessary steps to obey the orders he
had received.  The announcement, as might have been expected, created,
at first, no little dissatisfaction and disappointment throughout the
ship, but that was before any one was aware of the reasons of the
change.  Mr Togle was the first of the midshipmen to hear the news, and
down he rushed into the berth, where most of his messmates were
collected.

"You've lost your bet, Jemmy," he exclaimed, giving Duff a slap on the
shoulder.  "Instead of going to England we're bound for the Levant, old
fellow; so fork out.  You betted a dinner at the Star, didn't you?"

"Well, suppose I believed your humbug," answered Duff, "I'm ready to
give you a dinner at the Star; but if we don't go to England, I'm sure I
don't know how you are to eat it; so I've done you, old fellow!"

Thereon the discussion grew warm, as to how a bet under such
circumstances should be settled, no one believing Mr Togle's assertion
of their change of destiny.  It was interrupted by the shrill pipe of
the boatswain's whistle, and the hoarse cry of--

"All hands, unmoor ship," which echoed along the decks.

"There's something in the wind, any how," exclaimed Jack Raby, as they
all jumped up to hurry to their stations.

"I told you so," said Togle.  "We shall have plenty of adventures before
we again see old England, depend on it."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

There is in the northern portion of the Grecian Archipelago--and, from
being out of the usual track of vessels, little known even to the modern
voyager, and in the days of which I write still less so--a small island
called by the mariners of those regions the Island of Lissa, though I am
not aware under what name it appears in the English charts.  In extent
it is five or six miles long, and from two to three broad; its lofty
sides rise in most places as rocky precipices from out of the blue
ocean, and only on the southern side can anchorage-ground be found.  It
appears, on sailing round it at a short distance off, to be a barren,
inaccessible rock--a fit abode only for the wild sea-fowl which may be
seen hovering round it.  Its aspect, on approaching nearer, alters, and
here and there a pathway, cut in zig-zag down the rock, may be
discerned; and at one spot on the north, which appears at first to be a
mere crevice in the rock, to the seaman who steers boldly towards it, an
opening is revealed between the lofty cliffs, so narrow that the yards
of a ship might touch either side, yet with the water so deep that one
of large tonnage may enter, and find herself in a beautiful basin
surrounded with a fringe of yellow sand--lofty rocks, of many hues,
rising on every side, with a deep ravine running up into the interior,
its sides also equally rugged and precipitous.  Neither tree nor shrub
can be seen in this wild but picturesque spot: rock, water, sand, and
sky, are the only component parts of the landscape.  At the time I speak
of a few small light boats were drawn up on the beach, and two crafts of
considerably larger size lay moored in the basin or cove.  They were
long, low vessels, entirely decked over, and fitted to pull some twenty
oars; they had thick stumpy masts, and long tapering yards, for lateen
sails, now stowed fore and aft in the boats.  The sails were bent, the
oars being placed along the thwarts, and they wore an air which showed
they would be ready for sea at a moment's notice.

There was somewhat a wicked look about them, at the same time they might
belong to peaceable fishermen; for there were several nets hung up on
poles along the shore, and at times a few old men might be seen mending
them or cleaning the boats.  The chief communication between the cove or
basin I have described and the interior of the island was by a narrow
pathway, which ran along near the bottom of the ravine for some
distance, and then, turning to the right with many a zig-zag, led along
the edge of deep precipices till it reached the summit of the cliffs.
At the very bottom of the ravine leaped and sparkled a bright, clear
rivulet, the only stream in the island.  It might be seen far up,
indeed, at what might be called the head of the ravine, rushing forth
from between two cliffs, and bounding down a fall of two or three
hundred feet in a mass of glittering foam.

One of the wildest and most inaccessible spots in the island was in that
portion to the right, or east of the cove--the point of land, indeed,
formed by it and the sea, and bounded on the north by the ravine.  The
only access to it from the rest of the island was from the north-east by
a narrow neck of land, with the sea-cliffs on one side and those of the
ravine on the other.

This wild and rugged spot had been selected centuries ago, when the then
powerful republic of Venice held sway over considerable territories in
those seas, for the erection of a stronghold; and certainly no place
could have been better adapted, by its position and nature, for defying
the attacks of an enemy from without, or for guarding any rich argosies
taking shelter in the bay below.  It was of course for the purpose of
protecting their commerce that this rock had been seized on and
fortified.  It had probably also at some other period been increased and
strengthened on the land side, and occupied for less laudable objects
than the mere protection of commerce.  Whatever might have been the
original intention of its erection and its subsequent use, the massive
towers and turreted walls had long since been disused, and had fallen
into the decay of years, unheeded and unknown, except by a few families
of fishermen who had from generation to generation followed the same
occupation.  I call them fishermen, because such was the designation
they would have given themselves, had they been questioned on the
subject, and very properly so, for that was the occupation they and
their fathers had followed from time immemorial--when they happened to
have no other more lucrative or interesting employment.  Another change
had, however, of late years come over the ancient ruins, and though it
could not be said that they had assumed much of their pristine
appearance, some of the least dilapidated portions, at all events, gave
signs of being the habitations of human beings.  One tower especially
had been roofed in, as had a building attached to it, and smoke had been
seen to ascend from its hearth; and faces, hitherto strangers to the
island, had appeared at its windows.  The village in which most of the
old inhabitants of the island resided was on the opposite side of the
ravine, in a spot almost as inaccessible as that on which the castle
stood, but somewhat more convenient for a congregation of persons; and
as it was in a manner fortified by art, in addition to what nature had
done, they never found the Turks anxious to attempt the no easy task of
dispossessing them.  Although the exterior of the island was so rugged
and unprepossessing, and so destitute of verdure and cultivation, there
were spots in the interior where the orange, the citron, the pear, the
apple, and the vine flourished in rich luxuriance; the sides of the
hills were clothed with olive-trees, and the more even portions with
fields of waving corn, amply sufficient for the simple wants of the
population; and though cattle might be rare, thriving herds of goats
found herbage among the rocks, and on the narrow ledges of the rugged
cliffs.  In fact, everything which the mere unsophisticated wants of man
could require, the island itself supplied, except clothing and weapons;
and for the purpose of collecting these the misticoes in the cove were
found extremely useful,--no spot, indeed, could be more calculated for
the abode of peace, innocence, and rural simplicity--a complete island
Arcadia; and so it would possibly have become, had the inhabitants been
less addicted to maritime adventure; but then they would have had to go
about in the state in which were our first parents, before the fall, or
to have dressed in goats' skins; and at all events they would have had
no arms to defend themselves against the Turks; so that their frequent
naval expeditions might have been prompted by the excess of their
patriotism, and would, therefore, to say no more about them, have been
most laudable.

But the part of the island with which we are most interested is that to
the east of the bay, where the ruined castle was situated.  The tower
which I have described as having been rendered somewhat habitable, stood
in a position by which it commanded an extensive view to the southward
and eastward, as also of the bay or cove below.  Yet, although placed
apparently in so exposed a situation, so completely surrounded was it by
rocks of the same hue as the stone of which it was constructed, that at
a short distance off only, on the sea, it could in no way be
distinguished from them.

I must introduce the reader to an apartment in the upper part of the
said tower, which possessed two windows, one looking to the south, the
other into the cove.

The room presented an appearance which could not at all have been
expected from the condition of the outside.  It was furnished, not only
completely, but most richly and luxuriously, yet in a way which showed
that the hand of a professional artist had not been employed.  The floor
was covered with a Turkey carpet of the most valuable description, and
round the room, in Oriental style, were arranged couches, with the
softest cushions, and carved with thick silks of varied patterns.  The
walls were lined with damask hangings, of a light blue, and the ceiling
was arranged in the form of a tent, composed of cottons, which had
probably been fabricated in the looms of England.  There were tables in
the room, and seats scattered about around them.

Besides the hangings on the walls, they were ornamented with pictures of
much value, and racks of arms, richly chased, and arranged so as to form
many fanciful devices.

The whole appearance of the apartment showed that it had been hurriedly
fitted up, with lavish disregard of expense, and with materials which
might have been most conveniently at hand, but were not originally
intended for the purpose to which they were devoted.  The arrangements,
also, were such as a seaman might be supposed to have made, more,
probably, than any other person.  The room had an occupant--a young and
very beautiful girl.  Her beauty was of the pensive cast.  She had large
black, gazelle eyes, a clear olive complexion--clear as purity itself,--
and a figure slight and graceful, with a cast of feature of the most
classic mould.  As she sat at the window, gazing out on the blue sea,
ever and anon a slight roseate tinge would appear in her soft cheek, and
vanish rapidly as the thoughts which made it rise.  Her costume was
rather fanciful, than either Grecian or of any other people, and though
elegant and becoming, she appeared to have formed it from a profuse
supply of costly materials placed at her disposal.  It partook, however,
of the character of the dress of the East, though European taste might
have been detected in it.

She seemed very sad; for, though she held a book in her hand, with which
she was apparently endeavouring to divert her attention from melancholy
thoughts, her eyes would constantly wander over the wide blue sea, the
only object visible from the window, and a pearly drop from her dark eye
would steal down her cheek, and fall unheeded on the page before her,
while an unconscious sigh would burst from her heaving bosom.

There was evidently a weight on her young heart, a grief which was
wearing out the elasticity of her spirits, withering her glorious
beauty, and making her aged before her time.  Perchance she mourned the
absence of one she loved, and was wearied with anxiety for his return;
perhaps the canker-worm of remorse was at work within her, for a fault
committed and irretrievable; perhaps she was the victim of lawless
outrage, a captive against her will; perhaps she had been severed from
all she loved on earth, and the bright hopes of life had been blasted
for ever.  At last she closed her book with a smile; but it was one of
pain and bitterness at the hopelessness of her attempt to divert her
mind from the contemplation of the present.  A guitar, such as is
generally used in Italy, lay on the divan near her; she took it up, and
ran her fingers over the strings.  For a few minutes she struck a
plaintive air, in consonance with her feelings, and then, almost
unconsciously, she added her voice to the strain in a rich flow of
melody.  Her words, too, were sad, and the language was that of Italy.

  Nina's Song.

  The earth is all as lovely here,
  The sky as bright and fair,
  And flowers of every hue and shade
  Perfume the southern air.
  The sparkling sea lies at my feet,
  So clear, it seems a lake,
  And tiny waves, with snowy crest,
  Alone the silence break;
  And yet I weep from day to day
  For that loved home, now far away!

  I almost wish 'twere not so like
  My loved Italian land,
  Its southern flowers, its gorgeous skies,
  Blue sea, and golden sand.
  For while I gaze, a whispering voice
  Steals sadly through my brain,
  And tells me, I must never hope
  To see that spot again.
  And I must weep, from day to day
  For that loved home, now far away!

  I close my eyes, and fancy paints
  So vividly and clear,
  Each lovely spot, each well-known sound.
  To mem'ry ever dear;
  I hear again the vesper-bell,
  Chiming to evening prayer;
  While the cheerful song of the Gondolier,
  Floats through the balmy air.
  And thus I dream till dawn of day,
  Of that fair home, now far away!

  And yet the chain which binds me hero
  Is dearer far to me,
  Than the beauties of my palace land,
  Girt by the glorious sea.
  For his dear love, I left them all,
  And while that love is mine,
  If dreary wastes were now my home,
  Think not I would repine.
  Yet still one thought, from day to day,
  Tells of my home, now far away!

  But if his love should ever fade,
  Like twilight o'er this shore,
  And whisper'd words of tenderness,
  Now mine, be heard no more!
  Then no reproach shall meet his ear,
  No weeping meet his eye;
  I'd leave him ere he form'd the wish,
  And leave him but to die;
  For I would seek, ere close of day,
  Death, in that home now far away.

As she ceased, a tap was heard at the door; and she, bidding whoever was
without to enter, a young girl appeared, and closing the door,
approached her.  She wore the red embroidered Greek cap, with her hair
hanging in two long plaits behind, full trousers, and a silk waistcoat,
reaching to the knees.  Her age might have been about fourteen, and she
was very pretty, with black, flashing eyes, and a figure rather full
than slight, and somewhat below the common height, and a countenance to
which health and spirits gave an animated expression, which would have
made features far inferior to hers appear to advantage.

She seated herself on a cushion at the feet of the young lady with an
affectionate familiarity, and looking up in her face, said, in the soft
tongue of modern Greece--

"Oh, do continue those sweet strains, lady.  Though they made me sad, I
came up on purpose to listen to them, and to make my heart lighten the
grief of yours by sharing it with you."

"Thanks, my good Mila.  You are ever kind," answered the lady; and
though she spoke Romaic, she had difficulty in expressing herself.  "I
value your love the more that I possess that of no other."

"Your sweet temper and your sweet voice have won you more friends than
you suppose, lady," answered the Greek girl.  "My young brother would
die for you, I know, and my old grandfather, Vlacco, has his heart
softened towards you, I am sure."

"Does Vlacco feel pity for me?  Then would he, do you think, allow us to
wander forth to explore this rocky island?  I am weary of remaining shut
up in so small a compass for so long a time."

"I will try and persuade him, lady; and if it is not contrary to his
orders I think he will allow us to go together," returned the girl.
"But you know, lady, since the futile attempt of Signor Paolo, your
brother, to carry you off, you have constantly been watched."

"I know it, and therein is my misery.  He knows I would not quit him if
I could; and how can a weak girl escape from this rock-bound prison
except--" she paused and looked at the deep blue sea which lay at their
feet--"except it were to seek that rest which can be found, by one like
me, only beneath the calm bosom of yonder ocean."

"Oh, lady, let not such dreadful thoughts enter into your mind!"
exclaimed the young Greek, looking up at her with a face in which pity
blended with alarm.  "Come, we will wander forth, as you wish it, far
into the country; the change of scene, the fresh air, and exercise will
cheer your spirits, and I am sure my grandfather will not deny our
request to be allowed a little freedom."

A silk scarf and such boots as the Turkish women wear when they venture
abroad, completed the Italian lady's walking costume, and following the
young Greek, they descended from her lofty tower.  The flight of the
steps which led to the ground was steep and narrow, and were the same
which had been used in former days, repaired in places where the stones
had given way, bywood work slightly run up.  This, a few strokes of an
axe would serve to destroy, and the summit of the tower would be
immediately rendered inaccessible.  The story immediately beneath the
one inhabited by the lady was fitted up as a residence, though with much
less attention to comfort and elegance.  There were several couches for
sleeping, and a few seats and tables; but in the corners of the room
furthest from the windows were piled up in one, chests and bales of
goods, silks, cottons, and woollen cloths; in another, a collection of
arms, muskets, and cutlasses, and boarding-pikes.  There were a few
small brass guns, some mounted on carriages and others on swivels, such
as are carried on the gunnels of ships, or on the bows of boats; and
there were shot and cases which looked as if they contained powder.
Indeed, there was altogether a large collection of valuable goods, and
arms and ammunition sufficient to protect, it if the men were found to
use them.  In the recesses for the windows, which were very narrow, were
fitted platforms, which were evidently intended to place the
gun-carriages on, as there were ring-bolts to which to make breechings
fast, in order to prevent their running too far back at the recoil.  The
windows, as in the story above, looked down on the harbour, and seaward,
but there was another on the land side which commanded a view of the
narrow neck of land which led to the platform on which the castle stood.
The lower part of the tower was much in the same state in which it had
been left centuries before.  The first story, as it were, had
disappeared, so that there was an empty space for what may be called the
height of two stories; and, as there were no windows of any description,
it appeared dark and dreary in the extreme.  A steep path led round it
several times till it reached the gateway, which looked towards the sea
and the most inaccessible part of the cliff.  Any person, on entering
this lower division, would not have supposed, from what he could
observe, that the upper part would have afforded so great a contrast by
the richness and luxury displayed there.  On a more minute examination,
however, of the basement floor, it would have been discovered that a
stage had been raised from the earth, on which were placed a number of
large jars of wine, casks of olives, cases of figs, and sacks of corn
and other grain, indeed, provision sufficient to support a body of men
for a considerable time.  There were also some heavier guns than those
seen above, and spars, and cordage, and other munitions for fitting out
a ship.

The bottom of the flight of steps by which the two young girls had
descended led to the side of this chamber farthest from the door, and
they had some little difficulty, after leaving the bright light reigning
through the upper regions, in finding their way across it.  The Greek
then, with her little hand, struck the door as hard as she was able, to
call the attention of some one without to open it; but the noise she
made was insufficient for the purpose.  At last she was obliged to try
the effect of her voice.

"It is I, your grandchild, Mila.  Open the door, I say; open the door,
Vlacco!" she exclaimed; but no one answered to her call.  "So he thought
I was going to remain some time with you, lady, and I verily believe he
has gone off his post.  Now, if we could but have managed to get the
doors open, we might have gone out without his leave, and when he comes
back, he would find the birds flown."

"It is useless wishing that," said the Italian.  "The door is too
strongly fastened, and it shows me that I am a prisoner, and no longer
trusted; let us return up-stairs."

The Greek girl thought a little, as if unwilling to give up their
object.

"We will do as you propose, lady," she said at last; "but we will not
let him know that we came down, and are aware that he leaves his post;
so, another day he may not fasten the gate, and we may get out, and
wander where we like, without asking his leave."

They were about returning, when little Mila exclaimed--

"Stay, I think I hear him coming, and we won't tell him we have been
waiting; but, after he has been here a little, I will ask to be let
out."

They waited accordingly for some time, during which some person was
heard moving slowly about outside, when little Mila again exclaimed, as
loud as she could call, "Vlacco, Vlacco! let me out, I say, grandfather;
you have bolted the door, as if a storm was blowing to burst it open."

At last the bolt was withdrawn, and the door opening, an old Greek, with
white locks escaping from under his red cap, and a thick, grey
moustache, stood before them.  He had a rough, weatherbeaten
countenance, and dark eyes, deeply sunk in his head, with a very stern
expression.  His appearance was altogether forbidding, and his
countenance was one which it would make any person very uncomfortable to
look at, who knew that his life depended on the amount of mercy and pity
to be found in his bosom.  He must have been a powerful, active man in
his youth; but a weight of years had sadly pulled down his strength, and
palsied his once unfaltering hand.

"What a noise you make, little one.  You seem to be in a great hurry to
get out of the gilded cage," he exclaimed, not seeing the Italian who
stood in the shade.  When, however, she stepped forward, he altered his
tone, which became as courteous as his gruff nature would allow.
"Pardon, lady," he said, "I was not aware of your presence.  What is it
you wish?"

"Why, we wish to wander forth, and explore the island, grandfather,"
answered the young girl, speaking for the Italian, who had difficulty
both in comprehending old Vlacco's way of speaking, and in answering him
in Romaic.  "Now, I will not hear any excuses; I am going with the lady,
who is ill, and will pine to death if she is kept shut up in this way;
and, if you do not think we are able to take care of ourselves, you can
come too.  It is a pity we have not got wings, and then you might clip
them as they do those of the wild sea-fowl, to prevent their flying
away."

The old Greek offered a number of objections to the project; among
others, that if anything happened to the lady, his life would pay the
forfeit; but they were all overruled by his grandchild, who laughed at
his fears, and at length she and the Italian set out on their
expedition.  They took the way along the neck of land of which I have
spoken, among rocks which towered up in many fantastic shapes, without a
sign of vegetation on their weatherworn summits, and overlooking
precipices which descended many hundred feet of perpendicular height
into the sea below.  At last they emerged from this wilder tract, and
descending a gentle slope covered with many a sweet-scented shrub, on
which the bees delight to rest, they looked down into the centre of the
island.  Here a scene of a nature totally different to what they had
left met their view.  Every spot of ground was cultivated to the utmost
extent.  Below their feet was an orange grove, the trees of which were
laden with the ripening fruit; the side of a neighbouring hill was
covered with vines wide spreading along trellises gracefully arranged.
Several orchards of apple and pear trees were seen in the distance.
Beyond were fields of Indian corn waving in the breeze, and on the
higher ground millet and barley were seen growing.

"We may boast, lady, that our island is not altogether the barren rock
those might suppose who have looked forth only from the windows of the
castle," said Mila.  "And from yonder hill to the north let us enjoy the
view over the whole of it, if you will venture so far."

The Italian expressed her readiness to go there; for though, as she
said, she had before visited it, a long time since then had passed away.

As the two young girls passed through the fields, several husbandmen,
employed in them, gazed at them with a somewhat furious look; but they
all knew the granddaughter of old Vlacco, and quickly concluded who her
companion was.  The view from the summit of the hill, which was the
highest part of the island, extended, as Mila had said, not only over
the whole of the island, but embraced a wide circle of the surrounding
sea, and of many a neighbouring isle and islet, which appeared in every
direction, rising from the bosom of the deep, some with their outlines
clear and defined, others of various shades of blue, the most distant
seeming like faint clouds floating in the horizon.  They had enjoyed for
some time, from this rocky post, the breeze which in that elevated
position came cool and refreshing, when the quick eye of little Mila
discerned a white sail, a mere speck, upon the blue sea.  It skimmed
rapidly along, and approached the island.  They watched the vessel with
breathless attention.

"She has two masts; she is a brig of some size," cried the island girl,
who was well accustomed to distinguish the different rigs of vessels.

"It is, it must be his bark," exclaimed the Italian.  "Oh! let us hurry
to meet him, or he may come and find me absent."

"The brig cannot arrive till long after we shall reach the tower,"
answered the Greek girl, following, however, the wishes of her
companion.

On reaching the tower they saw the shores of the bay below crowded with
people, all bustle and animation, in expectation of the approaching
sail; but neither of the girls could determine, from the great distance
at which she still was, whether she were indeed the looked-for brig or a
stranger.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

A bright moon was floating in the pure ether of that lovely clime, as
the _Ione_, under all sail, glided out from the calm waters of the
harbour of Valetta on to the open sea.  No sooner had she got beyond the
shelter of Saint Elmo than she heeled over to the force of a brisk
north-westerly breeze, which sent her through the water at the rate of
some seven or eight knots an hour, to the no small satisfaction of all
on board.  No time had been lost in getting ready for sea.  The purser
had got off his stores with unusual despatch; the first lieutenant had
received what he required from the dockyard; the officers, who were on
shore, had been sent for and collected; sea stock had been laid in by
the caterers of the gun-room and midshipmen's mess, and Signor Michael,
from Nix Mangiare Stairs, had not neglected to send the groceries which
were ordered; little was forgotten, and no one was left behind.  The
commander had been the most busy, and those who saw the calm and
composed way in which he went about the business in which he was
occupied, could scarcely have supposed the anguish which had so lately
rent his mind.  After he had spoken to his first lieutenant, he had
again gone on shore, and tried to find out the three Greeks who had
deposed to having been robbed by pirates; but as they had quitted Malta,
he looked over the copies of their depositions, and he there found it
stated that the vessel which had attacked theirs was a large polacca
brig, supposed to be the _Sea Hawk_, and there was further a full
description of her and her commander.  The boatman, Manuel, was
examined, but little could be gleaned from him but a description of the
person he had put on board the speronara, which answered to that given
by the Greeks; and the conclusion arrived at was the correct one, that
he was no other than Zappa himself, and that he had employed the
speronara merely to bring him to Malta and to carry him on board his own
vessel, which must have remained all the time in the offing.  It might
be supposed that Captain Fleetwood would first have gone in search of
the speronara, but he considered that by so doing he should lose much
valuable time without a prospect of gaining any adequate information;
and he therefore resolved at once to sail to the eastward, touching at
Cephalonia, on the chance of learning something to guide his future
course.

The moment the object of the voyage was known, there was not a man or
boy on board who did not zealously enter into it; and many became almost
as eager to fall in with the _Sea Hawk_, and to recover the prisoners,
if any were still alive, as could have been the commander himself.  It
was the universal subject of conversation, morning, noon, and night, in
the gun-room, the midshipmen's berth, and at the messes of the petty
officers and men.  Many a midnight watch was made to pass rapidly away
by discussions as to the probabilities of their success, and with yarns
of length interminable, about pirates and robberies on the high seas.
Far too sacred were held the feelings of the commander to allow any one
to allude even to the subject to him; and though he doubtlessly thought
more than any one else about it, he endeavoured to maintain his usual
tranquil exterior.  It was sad, however, to perceive that anxiety was
rapidly thinning his cheek and dimming the lustre of his eye, though it
could not quench the fire which would urge him to continue the search as
long as life endured.  He remained much in his cabin, poring over charts
of the Greek Archipelago, and studying all the books he possessed,
describing the islands.  When he came on deck, it was to glean
information from those who had visited that part of the Mediterranean,
or to discuss with Saltwell the plan of operations he had commenced
arranging, but in the details of which he purposed to be guided by the
accounts he should receive wherever they touched.

Every sail they sighted was overhauled, provided she did not lead them
much out of their course, in the hopes of gaining tidings either of the
survivors of the _Zodiac's_ crew or of the pirate brig, and also to urge
those bound in the same direction to aid in the search.

Every one on board the _Ione_ prayed for a fair wind, and plenty of it,
to carry them along rapidly to the scene of their operations.  The
officers, who could but sympathise with their captain from having known
Ada Garden, were, of course, the most eager, and never, perhaps, were a
set of men collected better able to aid in accomplishing the same
object.

Mr Saltwell, the first lieutenant, was a first-rate officer.  He had
been constantly before at sea as a first lieutenant; for though his good
qualities were known in the service, he had very little interest.
Whatever was the work in hand, he contrived to get it done in the best
possible way without noise or trouble, so that he was always liked by
the men, and the ships in which he served were kept in excellent order.
In appearance he was slight and dark, for his countenance was well
bronzed by tropical suns, and he was too active to grow fat.  His
manners were gentlemanly, though he had a remarkably small amount of
soft-sawder about him; and all sincerity himself, he could not believe
that people were speaking falsely to him, and was at times rather apt to
come out roundly with the truth, to the astonishment of those who heard
him; so that he was clearly not fitted to be a courtier.  Captain
Fleetwood had a great respect and regard for him, as he knew him well,
for they had before served together.

The second lieutenant, Henry Linton, was a young man of good family and
considerable interest, he had been made a lieutenant as soon as he had
served his time, and he expected shortly to receive his commander's
commission.  He was a very gentlemanly, amiable fellow; and as he had
good sense and much observation, and had always attended to his duty, he
was a very fair seaman and a good officer.  In his heart of hearts he
rather pitied, not to say despised, Saltwell, for his want of the polish
he possessed and his indifference to the elegancies of life, though he
was not unable to appreciate his messmate's frankness of manner and
truthfulness of character.  His foible was his admiration for the poets,
and his belief that he could write poetry and was a first-rate critic.

The purser, Mr Jones, was an honest, painstaking man, with a large
family, and he came to sea for their benefit, after having nearly given
up the service.

Than the master, no one in the service was a better navigator.  He was a
self-taught genius, for he had gone to sea originally before the mast,
and even in that capacity had found time to gain instructions in
navigation, geography, history, and many other sciences.  He was for
some time rated as a schoolmaster of a frigate, and afterwards entered
as a master's assistant, and was soon promoted to the rank of master.
Mr Norton was, notwithstanding his early associates, a man of pleasing,
gentlemanly manners, and a real favourite with all hands, and his vast
fund of information and anecdote made him a great acquisition to a mess.

The surgeon, Mr Viall, was, for a wonder, an Englishman.  He was
supposed to be able to amputate limbs with great accuracy, and was a
very respectable man.  Though he had been some years at sea, he had
never contrived to learn anything about nautical affairs; and one day,
in Malta harbour, he went on board a large merchantman, which happened
to be brought up at no great distance from his ship, and was going below
before he discovered that he had got into the wrong box.

The assistant-surgeon, O'Farrall, was an Irishman, and much more of a
character.  He had, shortly before the time of which I speak, come to
sea for the first time.  A day or two after he had joined the _Ione_,
one of the marines insulted him by quizzing his Irish brogue, so he
forthwith lodged his complaint with Mr Saltwell.  The first lieutenant
desired him to point out the man.

"Faith, I don't remember exactly the cut of his mug," said he; "but I
made sure of knowing the spalpeen again by that same, that his name is
Tower."

"How do you know that his name is Tower?  I think he must have deceived
you.  We havn't a man of that name on board."

"Oh! by--, he couldn't decave me, lieutenant, darlin', then; for though
he didn't recollect it, I'll be sworn, or he'd a kept a more dacent
tongue in his mouth, I saw his name of Tower graven on his musket."

Most of the other members of the midshipmen's berth I have already
described.

There was a mate of the name of Grummit, who had been for some years
waiting for his promotion, but was of so hopeful a disposition, that he
always expected his commission out by the following packet; and there
was a master's assistant, called Samuel Spike, who considered himself
capable of commanding the allied fleets of Europe; and a clerk, named
Smith, who intended, when he had made his fortune and retired from the
Service, to become First Lord of the Treasury; but as these delusions
did not prevent them from attending to their duties, and they certainly
appeared to contribute very much to the happiness of the young men who
entertained them, nobody interfered with them.  I ought not to forget to
mention among the officers, the boatswain, gunner, and carpenter.  The
most remarkable circumstance connected with them was, that their names
were respectively Brown, Black, and White.  They were all good seamen,
and properly impressed with the importance of their offices.  If Brown
had, like his superiors, a weakness, it was in the belief that not a
boatswain in the service could pipe better, or had a louder voice than
himself, as also that he deserved a much higher rating than he
possessed.

"A sail on the larboard bow," hailed the look-out from the mast-head.

"What does she look like?" inquired Mr Saltwell, who was on deck.

"A large brig, sir, close hauled on the larboard tack," was the answer.

The wind at the time was about north-west.

The first lieutenant, with his glass slung across his shoulder,
instantly went aloft.  He could see about half way down her topsails,
and there was something in the look of them which made him think it was
worth while overhauling her.  He came down, and went into the cabin to
report her to Captain Fleetwood.

On his return the yards were braced up a little, and the course altered
three points more to the northward.  Captain Fleetwood soon came on
deck, and went aloft to examine the chase.  As the _Ione_ was already
carrying as much canvas as could possibly be set, little more could be
done to make her sail faster.

Of course, bound as they were on what might prove a long and arduous
cruise, it would not have done to start the water, or lighten the ship
in any way; and, in a smooth sea, the common expedient of slinging the
hammocks, and making the watch below turn in with round shot in their
arms, would have been of no avail.  The breeze, however, favoured them;
for while the _Ione_ was heeling over with it almost to her bearings,
the chase lay nearly becalmed.  She had no royals set, and her foresail
was hauled up, so that they neared her rapidly.

"I suspect our friend there keeps a bad look-out; for I don't think he
has seen us yet," observed Mr Saltwell to the master.

"If that is the case, he is not the fellow we are in search of,"
answered Mr Norton.  "A pirate would have his eyes about him."

"Perhaps, as he is becalmed and cannot get away, he hopes, by apparent
indifference to our approach, to deceive us as to his character,"
suggested Linton; "or he may have mistaken us for a merchantman, and
expects to make a prize of us."

"He'll find he's caught a Tartar," said Saltwell; "but he must be blind
not to see by the cut of our canvas what we are, even at this distance."

"Perhaps, he trusts to a fleet pair of heels, and we shall have him
showing them to us before long," said Linton.  "I do not think there is
anything yet to prove that he is not the pirate we are looking for.
That fellow Zappa is a bold and crafty scoundrel, as his late visit to
Malta and his successful attack on the Austrian brig sufficiently
proves.  He may have a mind to engage us, perhaps."

"You don't know the Greeks, if you think so," said Saltwell.  "Why, you
must have pictured him to yourself like one of the heroes in the
romances you are so fond of, who fight alone for love and glory, and
whose greatest delight is to lay their ships alongside an enemy of
greater force, in order to prove how superior knaves are to honest men.
Depend upon it, Signor Zappa will keep clear of us, if he can."

"Well, but what do you say to his attacking an Austrian man-of-war, and
capturing her?" urged Linton.  "That looks something like the chivalry
of piracy."

"As to that, in the first place, he discovered, by some means or other,
that she had specie on board; and she was also of much less force than
his vessel.  He carries, it is said, sixteen guns, and she had but
eight," answered Saltwell.  "So he followed her for some time, till he
surprised her one dark night, and captured her before her crew had time
to go to quarters.  It did not say much for Austrian naval discipline,
though it was not an enterprise Zappa had any great reason to boast of,
either."

"If the account I heard is true, he acted, however, the part of a
magnanimous conqueror; for, after he had rifled the brig, and taken
everything he wanted out of her, he allowed her and her officers and
crew to go free, without murdering a soul of them, which, at all events,
speaks in his favour," said Linton.

"Well, if that is his vessel, we shall soon know more about him and
her," observed Saltwell.  "We are nearing her fast.  I shall go aloft,
and try if I can make out what her hull is like."

They drew nearer and nearer the stranger, who still continued her course
to the northward under the same easy sail.

At last, her hull was visible from the deck.

Mr Saltwell had his glass fixed on her, as had Captain Fleetwood.

"What do you make her out to be, Mr Saltwell?" said the captain.

"She is polacca rigged, with raking masts, and has a long, low, dark
hull," answered the first lieutenant.

"The very description of the _Sea Hawk_," exclaimed Linton.  "I hope to
goodness it may be her."

"I trust it may," said Captain Fleetwood, drawing in his breath, and
compressing his lips, to conceal his agitation.

The excitement on board now increased, as there appeared a greater
probability of the stranger proving to be the pirate.

Anxiously beat the heart of Captain Fleetwood.  What might be the
consequence, supposing the prisoners were on board, and his Ada among
them?  Would the pirate hold them as hostages?  Zappa, he was aware,
well knew, from what he had learned at the ball at Malta, how dear Ada
Garden was to him, and what, in consequence, might be the pirate's
conduct?

His orders were to burn, sink, or destroy the rover, wherever he should
find him; and he resolved to do his duty.

As he walked the deck in silence, he glanced his eye aloft more
frequently than usual to see how the sails stood.  They were never
better set.  Every brace and bowline was taut to a nicety.  Then he
would look over the bulwarks to judge of the rate at which they were
slipping through the water, by the appearance of the sparkling bubbles,
as they darted off from the side, and circled in eddies under the
counter, and many an earnest gaze did he cast at the chase to assure
himself that he was still coming up with her.  It is a saying, that when
a hare runs, the dogs will follow--it is equally true at sea, even when
the order is reversed, if a vessel makes sail in chase, the chase will
generally run away.  Hitherto the officers of the _Ione_ had found the
vessel in sight offering an exception to the rule.

"Let her see our colours, Mr Saltwell.  It may induce her to show hers
in return."

The British ensign flew out to the breeze at the peak of the _Ione_;
but, for some time, no attention was paid to it by the stranger--
perhaps, it might not have been observed--at all events, no answer was
made.

"Ah, the rascal is ashamed of his nation, or is puzzled to know what
bunting to show us," said the master.  "No, by Jove; there flies the new
flag of independence, and a pennant to boot.  He wishes to make us
suppose he is a Greek man-of-war."

"He may try to do so, but he will not deceive us," said Linton.
"There's a most piratical cut about the fellow, which is enough to
condemn him anywhere."

"We shall soon get her within range of our long guns, and we shall then
see what she is made of," observed Saltwell, eyeing her.  "Shall we get
the gun ready, sir?" he asked of Captain Fleetwood.

"You may, Mr Saltwell; but as long as she does not show any intention
of avoiding us, on no account fire," was the answer.

"He seems in no hurry to move, at all events," observed the first
lieutenant.  He had scarcely spoken, however, before the breeze which
the _Ione_ had brought up with her reached the stranger, and, as if to
make amends for her former inactivity, the heavy folds of the foresail
were let fall, the royals were sent aloft, her head fell off from the
wind, studdensail after studdensail was set, and away she flew, before
the freshening breeze, like a sea-fowl darting from its slumber on the
wave, at a rate which those on board the British ship felt it would take
their utmost speed to compete with.

"Up with the helm--square away the yards, Mr Saltwell," exclaimed
Captain Fleetwood, as soon as he saw what she was about to do.

"Ay, ay, sir.  All hands make sail," cried Saltwell.

"All hands make sail," was echoed along the decks.

The men sprang on deck.  The order to set the studden-sails was given.
The hands flew aloft, and before the Greek had got all his canvas up,
the _Ione_ had every stitch she could carry packed on her.  This gave
her an advantage, but the stranger was still far beyond the range of her
long guns.

A stern chase is so proverbially a long chase, especially when the
leading vessel happens to be the fastest, as there soon appeared reason
to believe was the case in the present instance, that I will not weary
the reader by describing it, but, for the present, will leave His
Majesty's ship _Ione_ running under all sail, in chase of a suspicious
craft, towards the island-studded shores of Greece.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

Never did the _Ione_ go along at greater speed under the same canvas
than she was doing in chase of the Greek brig; but fast as she went, she
gained little, if anything, on the vessel she pursued.  No two crafts
could have been better matched.  The chances were all, therefore, in
favour of the escape of the latter.  She was four miles ahead, and she
kept that distance.  She might carry away a mast or spar, and thus the
_Ione_ might come up with her; or it might fall calm, and she might be
overhauled by the boats, but the pursuer was just as likely to receive
some damage, and thus she had most to fear a calm.  If she could manage
to hold her own till night came on, she would be able to haul her wind
on either tack with very little danger of being discovered.  The
officers walked the deck with impatient steps.  It was provoking to have
a vessel just ahead of them, and which they all felt almost sure was the
one they were in search of, and yet be unable to come up with her.

"If we could but get her within range of our guns, there would be some
satisfaction in peppering at her," said Jemmy Duff, who, with several of
his messmates had gone on the forecastle to have a better view of the
chase.  "I'd give a month's pay to have only one slap at her."

"That's not any overwhelming sum, Jemmy, though," observed Togle,
laughing.  "I'd give the whole of my half-pay for a year, and all the
fortune you're ever likely to leave me, to have her within range of our
guns for ten minutes."

"Mighty generous you are, indeed," said Jack Raby.  "By that way of
reckoning, whoever got the half-pay would be sadly out of pocket, as a
midshipman's half-pay is nothing, and find himself; if he accepted the
one, he would have to pay for your grub, and whoever gets Jemmy's
fortune won't have much duty to pay, I'll bet."

"No; I must consider my rank in the service my fortune, whenever I have
to propose to a young lady," answered Duff, putting his hand on his
heart, with a sentimental look.  "But, I say, can't we do something to
get hold of that fellow ahead of us?"

"Why, I suppose he'll fetch the land one of these days, and then, if he
can't sail over it, like the Yankee flat-bottomed crafts, which draw so
little water that they can go across the country, when the dew is on the
grass in the morning, we shall come up with him," replied Togle, with
great gravity.

"I wonder you can joke about it, Togle," said Duff.  "For my part, I
hate the sort of work, it makes one feel all nohow, and sadly injures
the appetite; I could scarcely eat my dinner to-day."

"One wouldn't have supposed so by the manner you stowed away the grub,"
answered Togle.  "For my part, I don't feel so anxious, because I've
made up my mind that we shall catch her some time or other.  Let's see,
it has just gone seven bells, so we've more than three hours of
day-light, and much may happen in that time."

The men were, meantime, discussing the subject of the chase in their own
fashion; nor did the three warrant officers, Brown, Black, and White,
fail to express their opinions on the matter.

"My opinion is," said Mr Brown, "that them Grecian chaps know how to
build crafts suited for going along in their own waters, as all must
allow is the case in most parts; but just let us catch any one of them--
that fellow ahead, for example--outside the straits, wouldn't we just
come alongside him in a quarter less time."

"As it is, he'll lead us a pretty chase, I fear," observed Mr Black.
"It will be like one I heard of in the war time, when a Jersey privateer
chased a French schooner from off the Start right round the Cape, and
never caught her till she ran into the Hoorly."

"Ah! but there was a longer chase than that which I have heard talk of,
when the _Mary Dunn_, of Dover, during the Dutch war, followed a
Dutchman right round the world, and never caught her at all," said Mr
White, who piqued himself on being facetious.  "Now, I'm thinking this
present affair will be, somehow, like that, unless as how we manage to
go faster than we now goes along, which ain't very likely, or she goes
slower, which she don't seem to have a mind to do."

During the day, Captain Fleetwood scarcely quitted the deck.  Up and
down he paced, with his glass under his arm, now and then stopping and
taking an anxious look at the chase, again to continue his walk, or else
he would stand loaning against the bulwarks for a length of time
together, without moving, unconscious of its lapse; his thoughts
evidently fixed on the vessel ahead, and penetrating, in fancy, her
interior.  Indeed, none of the officers remained below longer than was
necessary to take their meals, and every glass was in requisition to
watch the chase.

Towards the evening, the wind, although keeping steady in the same
quarter, gave indications of falling light, and there seemed every
probability of what most on board had prognosticated would not take
place--a calm.

"The wind has dropped very much, sir," said Mr Saltwell to the captain.

"It has," replied Captain Fleetwood.  "I know what you would say--Get
the boats ready for hoisting out.  We'll overhaul her in them, if it
falls calm, as I trust it will.  As yet, she goes faster ahead than we
should pull.  I will go with them, and you, Saltwell, must take charge
of the ship."

The first lieutenant signified his comprehension of his commander's
orders, and immediately set about carrying them into execution.

The prospect of a calm was seen by all on board, and the news that the
chase was to be attacked with the boats, should such happen, gave the
greatest satisfaction, every one being anxious to go in them.
Notwithstanding the dangers and hardships of boat service, it is one
Jack likes excessively, on account of its excitement and variety.  The
commander intended to lead in the first gig.  Linton was to command the
cutter, and Tompion, one of the mates, the second gig, which were the
only boats to be employed.

The arrangements had scarcely been concluded, when a loud flap of the
canvas against the masts gave indication of the cessation of the breeze.
Still, however, the brig had considerable way through the water.
Linton was looking through his glass at the vessel ahead.

"She still seems to have the breeze," he observed to Saltwell.  "I hope