At length we were off Naples by our reckoning, but a thick fog veiled its beauties from our sight. We stood on under easy sail, with the lead going, feeling our way in; very deep water I remember. Suddenly the mist lifted, as a curtain rises in a theatre, or as a scene is made to roll away that another may appear beyond, and before our eyes appeared a landscape such as I have never seen surpassed in beauty. Before us the deep blue sea, sprinkled over with the snowy canvas of innumerable vessels and boats gliding here and there, of various rigs, the graceful latine far outnumbering the others. On the one side was the rock-crowned isle of Ischia, on the other the green and vine-clad Capri. Before us Naples, its citadel and palaces glittering in sunshine, the white houses of Portici stretching round the bay, and Vesuvius rising on the right, with its slopes covered with bright green, Pompeii at its base, and capped just then with a cloud of smoke, betokening the raging fire within. But I confess that I do not believe my friends thought anything of the scene. Their glasses were directed round the bay in search of the schooner yacht we had so long chased, or turned towards the Mole, within which they hoped to see her. The breeze was far too gentle for their impatience. We ran in till we got near enough to bring up, and then all three of us pulled in towards the harbour. Among the crowd of masts we hoped to distinguish those of the Medora. Sir Griffith and Willoughby stood up, eagerly glancing here and there, but in vain. Neither of the schooners we looked for were to be seen.

We landed, and inquired our way to the office of the consul. He was away, but the vice-consul would be forthcoming, we were told, if sent for. We begged that he might be summoned. He came. When we spoke of Colonel Danvers he put on a long face, and said that strange stories had been current about him. Among others, that he was supposed to have come with revolutionary projects, that persons known to be disaffected to the government, that of the most paternal one of the good King Bomba, who at that period afforded the Neapolitans the happiness of reigning over them, had visited his vessel. Certain it was that he was one day set on when on shore, in the company of two ladies, by an armed band, who would probably have killed him had it not been for the active interference of an Irish gentleman who had come in another yacht, and who with his boat's crew rescued him and got him and the ladies safely off on board. Colonel Danvers had demanded justice, but as that was an article rather difficult to obtain just then in Naples, he was at length persuaded to solve all difficulties by going away.

"The scoundrel!" cried Sir Griffith, when he had heard thus far of the consul's narrative. "I feel sure that he invented the stories, and set them about himself; and I have no doubt that he bribed some fellows to attack him and the ladies, that he might gain the honour of rescuing them."

"Honour! a term not particularly applicable in connexion with such a rascal," I could not help saying. "I have no doubt that you are right in your surmises, Edgell."

"An extraordinary way of speaking of a gentleman of wealth and ancient lineage," observed the vice-consul. "Why, I advanced him

five hundred pounds, which he required to pay his crew, and other trifling expenses. He had borrowed a few hundreds besides from some other merchants before he found out that I could help him, or he would have honoured me with the whole sum."

"That is more than he will do with regard to the bill he drew, when it becomes due," I observed, drawing the vice-consul aside. "I should advise you to try and prove a case of swindling against him, and you may catch him before he gets through the Straits."

The poor gentleman was now as ready to abuse Colonel O'Carroll as he was before to praise him, and to give me all the information we required. The Medora was bound for Athens, and of course the Phantom would pursue her there, that her owner might carry on the same tricks he had played at Naples.

Once more we were on board, and standing out of the lovely bay to which we had paid so limited a visit, though what was the most enchanting scenery just then to the two lovers! We prayed that we might have a favourable breeze and clear weather, that we might carry on night and day till we could overtake the Medora.

We had a fair breeze and fine weather till we had left Cape Spartivento astern, and then our former ill luck returned, and for nearly four hours of wind, and then not much of it, we had twenty of calm. What little wind there was generally came from the eastward, and in our teeth. Consequently, when there at length came a breeze, Willoughby ordered all sail to be made, and vowed that he would crack on as long as a stick would stand to carry canvas. So we did, and the beautiful Wave went staggering on across the mouth of the blue Adriatic in a way which would have astonished Pater Æneas, and many other nautical heroes of even later date. Then again came a calm-such a calm as is not often found in northern climes: the air and water had both, it seemed, gone to sleep, and the only element awake and in full power was fire, or rather the sun, which beat down with fury on our heads, blistered the paint, and made the pitch, where any was to be found, hiss and bubble as if it were boiling. This continued for some time. We were not the only vessels within the circle of the calm, for in the far distance two sail had been seen since daybreak, both with very white canvas, but so far off that we could not make out what they were to a certainty, though the general opinion was that they were schooners. Of course Edgell and Willoughby insisted that one of them was the Medora, but as there are numerous vessels of that rig in those seas, I was not so convinced of the fact as they were. Though becalmed, we had every stitch of canvas set, in the hopes that a breath of air might come and enable us to get up near enough to the strangers to ascertain what they were. My friends were forward, with their glasses, endeavouring to make out the rig of the vessels to the eastward.

"Mr. Frothyton, sir," said Willis, coming up to me, "you know these seas as well as I do; but you'll excuse me, sir, Mr. Willoughby and Sir Griffith want to keep all this canvas aloft, when it ought to be safely stowed. There was just such a sky as this when the Algerine brig-of-war was lost. I was a lad then, aboard the old Revenge, when we was hove on our beam-ends, and pretty well-nigh lost

too."

"They are schooners, and one of them must be her," cried Sir Griffith, he and Willoughby exchanging congratulatory looks.

"Whether it is her or not, if we don't be sharp and shorten sail we shan't be in no condition to help her or ourselves, gentlemen," cried Willis, unusually excited. "All hands shorten sail!"

I seconded him in spite of the expostulations of my friends. The crew flew to their stations, and rapidly every stitch of canvas was lowered, and the topmast struck and housed. Scarcely was the last rope belayed, than Sir Griffith, whose eye had never been off the schooners, with a groan of horror cried out that one of them had disappeared, and the words were scarcely out of his lips than a loud roar, or rather a shriek and a hissing, was heard, and then the spoondrift came flying over us, and down on her beam-ends went the Wave as if never to rise again; but quickly righting, and feeling the helm, off she flew before the gale.

Stop her! stop her!" cried Sir Griffith. "Why can't you stop the yacht? I am certain I saw some dark object where one of the

vessels was."

Under other circumstances we might have laughed at his vehement exclamation. Happily the squall soon passed over, and we beat back to where we had seen the schooner. Sure enough there floated a vessel dismasted. We neared her. Even Willis acknowledged that she might be the Medora, shorn of her beauty. Two female forms stood on her deck watching our approach. I might have said three, only two were more prominent, and there was an old gentleman.

"Thank Heaven they have escaped!" exclaimed the baronet and Willoughby.

"Polly's all right. Well, I am glad!" said Willis to himself. The skipper, who was a bachelor, spoke of the lady's-maid.

We were soon on board. I need scarcely describe the reception my two friends met with; indeed, I was so busy shaking hands with the colonel that I did not at the moment observe them. He told me that his daughter and niece had acted like heroines throughout the squall, and that although there appeared every probability of the Medora being lost, they had not for a moment given way to fear.

"But we saw two schooners," I remarked. "What was the other?"

"The Phantom," answered the colonel. "She was about two miles off when the squall struck us, and after it had cleared off she was nowhere to be seen. When you first hove in sight, in truth, we fancied that she was returning, having run off before the gale, and it was a great relief to my mind when we recognised the Wave. The fact is, that Colonel O'Carroll has rendered us so many essential services, that though I could never get over my prejudice against him, I could scarcely prohibit him from visiting on board, though he almost persecuted us with his attentions."

I of course then told the colonel of all I knew of the man, and of what we had heard at Naples.

"I am not surprised at what you tell me," he answered. "And, though you have come to our aid at a most important moment, the action would have been more dramatic had the villain of the piece been on the point of marrying my niece or my daughter, or both of them." And the old colonel laughed heartily at his conceit, little thinking at the moment of the real state of the case.

The ladies, with their attendant, Polly, and the colonel, now came on board the Wave, which took the schooner in tow, while our united crews set to work to get up jury-masts and put her in order. Meantime, while I stood at the helm, I could not help hearing a conversation which took place.

"My sweet Julia, I have been utterly miserable for the last two months. I had just got my mother's sanction to offer you my hand and heart, when you so unaccountably disappeared," whispered Willoughby. "I love you for yourself alone, and the large fortune you are said to possess weighs not a feather in the balance. Had you not a sixpence I should be as eager to win your affections-I shall be miserable without you."

"If that is the case, my hand shall be yours, as my heart, I assure you, is," answered the heiress, smiling sweetly. "But there is still a mystery which I cannot clear up."

Meantime, Sir Griffith had taken Fanny Avening aside, and told her of the wretched anxiety he had gone through, confessed his poverty, and talked of the selfishness which induced him to speak, and which only his ardent love would excuse, but vowed that his life should be devoted to her if she would consent to enjoy love in a cottage. The sparkling gentle expression of her eye showed that she had no potent objection to offer.

"Only," she added, "there is a mystery which I must clear up. My cousin Julia and I have, at my earnest wish, changed places, and I think, as it has turned out, to our mutual advantage. She has won a man who loves her, I feel sure, for herself, and has an ample fortune for her support; I, too, have won a man who loves me for myself, of that I am sure" (and she tenderly pressed Sir Griffith's hand), "and would be, I am equally sure, willing to share it with me in a cottage; but, though love in a cottage may be a very romantic and pleasant style of existence, I hope that he has no insuperable objection to the enjoyment of a fine yacht in summer, a country-house in winter, and a town one in spring; for the fact of the case is, my dear Sir Griffith, that while you thought that you were running after a penniless girl, for whose support you were nobly ready to exert yourself, you were, in reality, chasing what you have gallantly won-an heiress!"

My tale must at length terminate. The villain of the piece was never again seen. We heard when at Athens that a boat was shortly afterwards picked up by a man-of-war at sea with the remnant of the Phantom's crew, that schooner, with her owner and the rest of her people on board, having gone down in the squall which so nearly proved fatal to the Medora. Thus, not only the unfortunate builder, but the Jew at Portsmouth lost his money.

364

ECLIPSES: CELESTIAL AND TERRESTRIAL.

At this moment, when Florence is rejoicing in the presence of her constitutional king, and has become the seat of government of a warlike, enlightened, and free people, let us look back some thirty years and think how things stood then, in the time of the good old Grand-Duke Leopold II. He at that period was expecting an addition to his family by his second wife, the handsome, haughty, and regal-looking sister of Ferdinand, King of Naples. Every day was the great event looked for, and the birth of a prince anxiously anticipated by the party attached to the Austrian dynasty; for, by the grand-duke's first marriage with the Princess Mary of Saxony, he had only three delicate daughters, which rendered the appearance of a boy of infinite importance both domestically and politically.

The

It was on the 10th of June, 1835, one of those lovely evenings only to be seen in Italy before the season advances towards the great heat of summer, that most of the élite of Florence, both English and foreign, directed their course in full evening dress to the beautiful villa Capponi, situated on one of the heights near the Bologna road. Its high-born and hospitable occupants threw open their doors to receive a distinguished circle every month at the full of the moon, during the fine season. villa was large and elegant, and from its elevated position commanded an extensive panoramic view of the magnificently picturesque town in the rich valley below, so exquisitely relieved by the lovely heights of Bellosguardo and Fiesole on either side. The short twilight was passed, and the balconies, terraces, and verandahs became filled with groups of gay and fashionable people, who inhaled the soft breeze with delight as it came gently breathing over them, deliciously scented with the perfume of the many rich flowers peculiar to the season. It was an enchanting scene! one never to be forgotten by those present, some of whom are yet spared to look back with blended feelings of pain and pleasure, through the vista of so many years-during whose course have vanished most of the stars among the bright crowd assembled on that eventful night at the beautiful villa Capponi! A set of idlers, of whom the writer of this article was one, occupied sofas round the centre window of the large drawing-room, enjoying the fresh air and exquisite landscape, now lighted up by the full moon sailing along majestically in the ultramarine blue of the cloudless sky. Perhaps among the ten or twelve persons who composed this group, and who for the moment were silent, there might be some whose thoughts wandered from the enchanting view before them, to the bold rocky mountains and cold cloudy skies of a ruder country far away, where manners were more chilly, and hearts when warm were not demonstrative of those softer shades of feeling, which flow out so naturally under the influence of the Southern sun. Without doubt many different thoughts filled the minds of those who now appeared absorbed by the moonlit scene before them; but an end was suddenly put to all reveries by the sound of cannon booming from the town to announce the accouchement of the grand-duchess.

It had been understood that, if a son were born, the cannon would be