t see the lugger--among a hundred ships, there is no sign of
yours?"

"The Bay of Napoli is large, Ghita," returned Raoul, laughing; "and le
Feu-Follet takes but little room. See-yonder vaisseaux-de-ligne appear
trifling among these noble mountains and on this wide gulf; you cannot
expect my little lugger to make much show. We are small, Ghita mia, if
not insignificant!"

"Still, where there are so many vigilant eyes, there is always danger,
Raoul! Besides, a lugger is an unusual rig, as you have owned to me
yourself."

"Not here, among all these eastern craft. I have always found, if I
wished to be unnoticed, it was best to get into a crowd; whereas he who
lives in a village lives in open daylight. But we will talk of these
things when alone, Ghita--yonder fisherman is getting ready to
receive us."

By this time the skiff was near the shore, where a little yawl was
anchored, containing a solitary fisherman. This man was examining them
as they approached; and, recognizing Raoul, he was gathering in his
lines and preparing to raise his grapnel. In a few minutes the two craft
lay side by side; and then, though not without difficulty, owing to a
very elaborate disguise, Ghita recognized Ithuel Bolt. A very few words
sufficed to let the American into all that it was necessary he should
know, when the whole party made its arrangements to depart. The skiff
which Raoul, having found it lying on the beach, had made free with
without leave, he anchored, in the full expectation that its right owner
might find it some day or other; while its cargo was transferred to the
yawl, which was one of the lugger's own attendants. The latter was a
light, swift-pulling little boat, admirably constructed and fit to live
in a sea-way; requiring, moreover, but two good oars, one of which Raoul
undertook to pull himself, while Ithuel managed the other. In five
minutes after the junction was made the party was moving again from the
land in a straight line across the bay, steering in the direction of its
southern cape, and proceeding with the steady, swift movement of men
accustomed to the toil.

There are few portions of the sea in which a single ship or boat is an
object of so little notice as the Bay of Naples. This is true of all
times and seasons; the magnificent scale on which nature has created her
panorama rendering ordinary objects of comparative insignificance; while
the constant movement, the fruit of a million of souls thronging