of their
peculiar character, Ghita had expressed her reluctance to trust her fate
with one whose God was not her God, with a distinctness and force that
left no doubt of the seriousness of her views or of her ability to
sustain them in acts. What rendered her resolution more impressive was
the ingenuous manner with which she never hesitated to admit Raoul's
power over her affections, leaving no pretext for the commonplace
supposition that the girl was acting. The conversation of that night
weighed heavily on the heart of the lover, and he could not summon
sufficient resolution to part--perhaps for months--with such an apparent
breach between him and his hopes.

As soon as it was known, therefore, that the lugger was far enough at
sea to be out of sight from the boat of Clinch, she came by the wind on
the larboard tack again, heading up toward the celebrated ruins of
Paestum, on the eastern shore of the Bay of Salerno. To one accustomed
to the sea, there would not have seemed sufficient wind to urge even
that light craft along at the rate with which she glided through the
water. But the land breeze was charged with the damps of midnight; the
canvas was thickened from the same cause; and the propelling power had
nearly double its apparent force. In an hour after hauling up, le
Feu-Follet tacked, quite eight miles distant from the spot where she
altered her direction, and far enough to windward to lay her course in
directly for the cliffs beneath the village of St. Agata, or the present
residence of Ghita. In proceeding thus, Raoul had a double intention
before him. English ships were constantly passing between Sicily, Malta,
and Naples; and, as those bound north would naturally draw in with the
land at this point, his position might enable him to strike a sudden
blow, with the return of day, should any suitable vessel be in the
offing next morning. Then he hoped for a signal from Ghita at least--and
such things were very dear to his heart; or, possibly, anxiety and
affection might bring her down to the water-side, when another interview
would be possible. This was the weakness of passion; and Raoul submitted
to its power, like feebler-minded and less resolute men, the hero
becoming little better than the vulgar herd under its influence.

The two or three last days and nights had been hours of extreme anxiety
and care to the officers and crew of the lugger, as well as to their
commander, and all on board began to feel the