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 that was natural.

Ten minutes had not certainly elapsed after the rumor reached the lower
part of the town ere 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 wing-and-wing, and
glancing along the glittering sea like the duck sailing toward 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 that 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