the English having terminated three or four years earlier; and Raoul felt certain of a welcome anywhere in the island, and of protection wherever it could be offered. Such was the state of things, when, just as the lugger was preparing to enter among the shoals, the Proserpine unexpectedly tacked, and seemed to bestow all her attention on the coasters, of which three or four were so near that two fell into her hands almost without an effort to escape.

It appeared to Raoul, and those with him in his little craft, that the English seized these insignificant vessels solely with a wish for vengeance, since it was not usual for ships of the force of the Proserpine to turn aside to molest the poor fishermen and coasters. A few execrations followed, quite as a matter of course; but the intricacy of the channel and the necessity of having all his eyes about him, soon drove every other thought from the mind of the dashing privateersman, but such as were connected with the care and safety of his own vessel.

Just as the sun set Le Feu-Follet anchored. She had chosen a berth sufficiently within the shallow water to be safe from the guns of the frigate, though scarcely within the river. The latter the depth of the stream hardly permitted, though there was all the shelter that the season and weather required. The Proserpine manifested no intention to give up her pursuit; for she, too, came off the outlet, and brought up with one of her bowers, about two miles to seaward of the lugger. She seemed to have changed her mind as to the coasters, having let both proceed, after a short detention; though, it falling calm, neither was enabled to get any material distance from her, until the land-breeze should rise. In these positions, the belligerents prepared to pass the night, each party taking the customary precautions as to his ground tackle, and each clearing up the decks and going through the common routine of duty, as regularly as if he lay in a friendly port.

It is unnecessary to dwell on the glories of the Mediterranean. They are familiar to every traveller, and books have again and again laid them before the imaginations of readers of all countries and ages. Still there are lights and shades peculiar to every picture, and this of ours has some of its own which merit a passing notice. A sunset in midsummer can add to the graces of almost any scene. Such was the hour when Raoul anchored; and Ghita, who had come on deck now that the chase was over and the danger was thought to be past, fancied she had never seen her own Italy, or the blue Mediterranean, more lovely.

The shadows of the mountains were cast far upon the sea long ere the sun had actually gone down, throwing the witchery of eventide over the whole of the eastern coast some time before it came to grace its western. Corsica and Sardinia resemble vast fragments of the Alps which have fallen into the sea by some accident of nature, where they stand in sight of their native beds, resembling. as it might be, out-posts to those great walls of Europe. Their mountains have the same formations, the same white peaks,

for no small portion of the year at least, - and their sides the same mysterious and riven aspect. In addition, however, to their other charms, they have one which is wanting in most of Switzerland, though traces of it are to be found in Savoy and on the southern side of the Alps; they have that strange admixture of the soft and the severe, of the sublime and beautiful, that so peculiarly characterizes the witchery of Italian nature. Such was now the aspect of all visible from the deck of Le Feu-Follet. The sea, with its dark blue tint, was losing every trace of the western wind, and was becoming glassy and tranquil; the mountains on the other side were solemn and grand, just showing their ragged outlines along a sky glowing with "the pomp that shuts the day;" while the nearer valleys and narrow plains were mysterious, yet soft, under the deep shadows they cast. Pianosa lay nearly opposite, distant some twenty miles, rising out of the water like a beacon; Elba was visible to the north-east, a gloomy confused pile of mountain at that hour; and Ghita once or twice thought she could trace on the coast of the main the dim outline of her own hill, Monte Argentaro; though the distance, some sixty or seventy miles, rendered this improbable. Outside, too, lay the frigate, riding on the glassy surface of the sea; her sails furled, her yards squared, everything about her cared for and in its place, until she formed a faultless picture of nautical symmetry and naval propriety. There are all sorts of men in a marine, as well as in civil life; these taking things as they come, content to perform their duties in the most quiet manner, while others, again, have some such liking for their vessels as the dandy has for his own person, and are never happy unless embellishing them. The truth in this, as in most other matters, lies in a medium; the officer who thinks too much of the appearance of his vessel, seldom having mind enough to bestow due attention on the great objects for which she was constructed and is sailed; while, on the other hand, he who is altogether indifferent to these appearances, is usually thinking of things foreign to his duty and his profession; if, indeed, he thinks at all. Cuffe was near the just medium, inclining a little too much, perhaps, to the naval dandy. The Proserpine, thanks to the builders of Toulon, was thought to be the handsomest model then afloat in the Mediterranean, and, like an established beauty, all who belonged to her were fond of decorating her, and of showing her fine proportions to advantage. As she now lay at single anchor, just out of gun-shot from his own berth, Raoul could not avoid gazing at her with envy, and a bitter feeling passed through his mind when he recalled the chances of fortune and of birth, which deprived him of the hope of ever rising to the command of such a frigate, but which doomed him, seemingly, to the fate of a privateersman for life.

Nature had intended Raoul Yvard for a much higher destiny than that which apparently awaited his career. He had come into active life with none of the advantages that accompany the accidents of birth, and, at a moment, in the history of his great nation, when its morals and its religious sentiments had become unsettled by the violent reaction which was throwing off the abuses of centuries. They who imagine, however, that France, as a whole, was guilty of the gross excesses that disfigured her struggles for liberty, know little of the great mass of moral feeling which endured through all the abominations of the times; and mistake the crimes of a few desperate leaders, and the exaggerations of misguided impulses, for a radical and universal depravity. The France of the Reign of Terror, even, has little more to answer for than the compliance which makes bodies of men the instruments of the enthusiastic, the designing, and the active America often tolerating error, which differs only in the degree, under the same blind submission to combinations and impulses; this very degree, too, depending more on the accidents of history and natural causes, than any agencies which are to be imputed to the one party, as a fault, or, to the other, as a merit. It was with Raoul, as it had been with his country - each was the creature of circumstances; and if the man had some of the faults, he had also most of the merits of his nation and his age. The looseness on the subject of religion, which was his principal defect in the eyes of Ghita, but which could scarcely fail to be a material one with a girl educated and disposed as was the case with our heroine, was the error of the day, and with Raoul it was at least sincere; a circumstance which rendered him, with one so truly pious as the gentle being he loved, the subject of a holy interest, which, in itself, almost rivalled the natural tenderness of her sex, in behalf of the object of her affections.

While the short engagement with the boats lasted, and during the few minutes he was under the fire of the frigate, Raoul had been himself; the excitement of actual war always nerving him to deeds worthy of his command, and the high name he had acquired; but throughout the remainder of the day he had felt little disposed to strife. The chase, once assured that his spars were likely to stand, gave him little concern; and now that he was at anchor within the shallow water, he felt much as the traveller who has found a comfortable inn after the fatigue of a hard day's ride. When Ithuel suggested the possibility of a night-attack in boats, he laughingly reminded the American that "the burnt child dreads the fire," and gave himself no great concern in the matter. Still, no proper precaution was neglected. Raoul was in the habit of exacting much of his men in moments of necessity; but, at all other times, he was as indulgent as a kind father among obedient and respectful children. This quality, and the never-varying constancy and coolness which he displayed in danger, were the secret of his great influence with them; every seaman under his orders feeling certain, that no severe duty was required at his hands without a corresponding necessity for it.

On the present occasion, when the people of Le Feu-Follet had supped, they were indulged in their customary dance; and the romantic songs of Provence were heard on the forecastle. A lighthearted gaiety prevailed, which wanted only the presence of woman to make the scene resemble the evening amusement of some hamlet on the coast. Nor was the sex absent in the sentiment of the hour, or wholly so in person. The songs were full of chivalrous gallantry, and Ghita listened, equally touched and amused. She sat on the traffrail, with her uncle standing at her side, while Raoul paced the quarterdeck, stopping in his turn to utter some thought or wish to ears which were always attentive. At length the song and the dance ended, and all but the few who were ordered to remain on watch descended to their hammocks. The change was as sudden as it was striking. The solemn, breathing stillness of a star-lit night succeeded to the light laugh, melodious song, and spirited merriment of a set of men, whose constitutional gaiety seemed to be restrained by a species of native refinement unknown to the mariners of other regions, and who, unnurtured as they might be deemed in some respects, seldom or never offended against the proprieties; as is so common with the mariners of the Anglo-Saxon race. By this time the cool air from