again succeeded, at night, by a breeze directly from the land. Weeks at a time have we known this order of things to be uninterrupted; and when the changes did occasionally occur, it was only in the slight episodes of showers and thunder-storms; of which, however, Italy has far fewer than the coast of America.

Such, then, was the state of Porto Ferrajo, towards the evening that succeeded this day of bustle and excitement. The zephyr again prevailed, the idle once more issued forth for their sun-set walk, and the gossips were collecting to renew their conjectures, and to start some new point in their already exhausted discussions, when a rumour spread through the place, like fire communicated to a train, that "ze Ving-y-Ving" was once more coming down on the weather-side of the island, precisely as she had approached on the previous evening; with the confidence of a friend and the celerity of a bird. Years had passed since such a tumult was awakened in the capital of Elba. Men, women and children poured from the houses, and were seen climbing the streets, all hastening to the promenade, as if to satisfy themselves, with their own eyes, of the existence of some miracle. In vain did the infirm and aged call on the vigorous and more youthful for the customary assistance; they were avoided like the cases of plague, and were left to hobble up the terraced street as best they might. Even mothers, after dragging them at their own sides till fearful of being too late, abandoned their young in the highway, certain of finding them rolled to the foot of the declivity, should they fail of scrambling to its summit. In short, it was a scene of confusion in which there was much to laugh at, something to awaken wonder, and not a little which was natural.

Ten minutes had not certainly elapsed, after the rumour reached the lower part of the town, before two thousand persons were on the hill, including nearly all the principal personages of the place, 'Maso, Tonti, Ghita, and the different characters known to the reader. So nearly did the scene of this evening resemble that of the past, - the numbers of the throng on the hill and the greater interest excepted, - that one who had been present at the former might readily have fancied the latter merely its continuation. There, indeed, was the lugger, under her foresail and mainsail, with the jigger brailed, coming down wingand-wing, and gliding along the glittering sea like the duck sailing towards her nest. This time, however, the English ensign was flying at the end of the jigger-yard, as if in triumph, and the little craft held her way nearer to the rocks, like one acquainted with the coast, and fearing no danger. There was a manner of established confidence in the way in which she trusted herself under the muzzles of guns which might have destroyed her in a very few minutes, and no one who saw her approach could very well believe that she was anything but a known as well as a confirmed friend.

"Would any of the republican rascals, think you, Signor Andrea," asked Vito Viti, in triumph, "dare to come into Porto Ferrajo in this style, - knowing, too, as does this 'Sir Smees,' the sort of people he will have to deal with? Remember, vice-governatore, that the man has actually been ashore among us, and would not be likely to run his head into the lion's mouth."

"Thou hast changed thine opinion greatly, neighbour Vito," answered the vice-governor, somewhat drily, for he was far from being satisfied on the subject of Sir Cicero, and on those of certain other circumstances in English history and politics; "it better becomes magistrates to be cautious and wary."

"Well, if there be a more cautious and circumspect man in Elba than the poor podestà of Porto Ferrajo, let him stand forth, i' God's name! and prove his deeds. I do not esteem myself, Signor vice-governatore, as the idlest or as the most ignorant man in the Grand Duke's territories. There may be wiser, among whom I place your eccellenza; but there is not a more loyal subject, or a more zealous friend of truth."

"I believe it, good Vito," returned Andrea, smiling kindly on his old associate, “and have ever so considered thy advice and services. Still, I wish I knew something of this Sir Cicero; for, to be frank with thee, I have even foregone my siesta in searching the books in quest of such a man."

"And do they not confirm every syllable the Signor Smees has said?"

"So far from it that I do not even find the name. It is true, several distinguished orators of that nation are styled English Ciceroes; but then all people do this by way of commendation."

"I do not know that, Signore, - I do not know that: it may happen in our Italy, but would it come to pass, think you, among remote and so lately barbarous nations as England, Germany, and France?"

"Thou forgettest, friend Viti," returned the vice-governor, smiling now in pity at his companion's ignorance and prejudices, as just before he had smiled in kindness, "that we Italians took the pains to civilize these people a thousand years ago, and that they have not gone backward all this time. But there can be no doubt that 'ze Ving-y-Ving' means to enter our bay again; and there stands the 'Signor Smees' examining us with a glass, as if he, too, contemplated another interview."

"It strikes me, Vice-governatore, that it would be a sin next to heresy to doubt the character of those who so loyally put their trust in us. No republican would dare to anchor in the bay of Porto Ferrajo a second time. Once, it might possibly be done; but twice? - no, never, never!"

"I do not know but you are right, Vito, and I am sure I hope so. Will you descend to the port and see that the forms are complied with? Then glean such useful circumstances as you can."

The crowd was now in motion towards the lower part of the town to meet the lugger; and at this suggestion the podestà hurried down in the throng to be in readiness to receive the "Signor Smees" as soon as he should land. It was thought more dignified and proper for the vice-governor to remain, and await to hear the report of the supposed English officer where he was. Ghita was one of the few also who remained on the heights: her heart now beating with renewed apprehensions of the dangers which her lover had again braved on her account, and now nearly overflowing with tenderness as she admitted the agreeable conviction that, had she not been in Porto Ferrajo, Raoul Yvard would never have incurred such risks.

Ghita delle Torri, or Ghita of the Towers, as the girl was ordinarily termed by those who knew her, from a circumstance in her situation which will appear as we advance in the tale, or Ghita Caraccioli, as was her real name, had been an orphan from infancy. She had imbibed a strength of character and a selfreliance, from her condition, which might otherwise have been wanting in one so young, and of a native disposition so truly gentle. An aunt had impressed on her mind the lessons of female decorum; and her uncle, who had abandoned the world on account of a strong religious sentiment, had aided in making her deeply devout, and keenly conscientious. The truth of her character rendered her indisposed to the deception which Raoul was practising, while feminine weakness inclined her to forgive the offence, for the motive. She had shuddered again and again as she remembered how deeply the young sailor was becoming involved in frauds

and frauds, too, which might so easily terminate in violence and bloodshed; and then she had trembled under the influence of a gentler emotion, as she remembered that all these risks were run for her. Her reason had long since admonished her that Raoul Yvard and Ghita Caraccioli ought to be strangers to each other; but her heart told a different story. The present was an occasion suited to keep these conflicting feelings keenly alive, and as has been said, when most of the others hastened down towards the port, to be present when the Wing-and-Wing came in, she remained on the hill, brooding over her own thoughts, much of the time bathed in tears.

But Raoul had no intention of trusting his Jack o' Lantern where it might so readily be extinguished by the hand of man. Instead of taking shelter against any new roving republican who might come along behind the buildings of the port, as had been expected, he shot past the end of the quay, and anchored within a few fathoms of the very spot he had quitted that morning, merely dropping his kedge under foot, as before. Then he stepped confidently into his boat, and pulled for the landing.

"Eh, Signor Capitano," cried Vito Viti, as he met his new protégé, with an air of cordiality, as soon as the foot of the latter touched the shore, "we looked for the pleasure of receiving you into our bosom, as it were, here in the haven. How ingeniously you led off that sans culotte this morning! Ah, the Inglese are the great nation of the ocean, Colombo notwithstanding! The vice-governor told me all about your illustrious female admiral, Elisabetta, and the Spanish armada; and there was Nelsoni; and now we have Smees!"

Raoul accepted these compliments, both national and personal, in a very gracious manner, squeezing the hand of the podestà with suitable cordiality and condescension, acting the great man as if accustomed to this sort of incense from infancy. As became his public situation, as well as his character, he proposed paying his duty immediately to the superior authorities of the island.

"King George, my master," continued Raoul, as he and Vito Viti walked from the quay towards the residence of Andrea Barrofaldi, "is particularly pointed on this subject, with us all, in his personal orders. Never enter a port of one of my allies, Smeet,' said he, the very last time I took leave of him, without immediately hastening with your duty to the commandant of the place. You never lose anything by being liberal of politeness; and England is too polished a country to be outdone in these things by even the Italians, the parents of modern civilization."

"You are happy in having such a sovrano, and still more so in being allowed to approach his sacred person."

"Oh! as to the last, the navy is his pet; he considers us captains, in particular, as his children. 'Never enter London, my dear Smeet,' he said to me, 'without coming to the palace, where you will always find a father' you know he has one son among us who was lately a captain, as well as myself."

"San Stephano! and he the child of a great king! I did not know that I confess, Signore."

"Why, it is a law, in England, that the king shall give at least one son to the marine. 'Yes,' said his Majesty, 'always be prompt in calling on the superior authorities, and remember me benevolently and affectionately to them, one and all, even down to the subordinate magistrates, who live in their intimacy."

Raoul delighted in playing the part he was now performing, but he was a little addicted to over-acting it. Like all exceedingly bold and decided geniuses, he was constantly striding across that step which separates the sublime from the ridiculous, and consequently The Jack O'Lantern,

7