ised
nations on your head, as instruments of the God whom you have offended."

"My resolution is fixed, signora. What I do depends on the result of
this night's business," said the pirate, in the same stern voice; and,
without paying her any further apparent attention, he urged on his
people to renewed exertions at their oars.

This conversation took place exactly as the British boats were first
discovered through the darkness, coming up astern; and as they happened
to be just there in line, and looming large in the gloom, Zappa could
not tell what force was now being brought against him; and it was the
belief that he was about to be attacked by overwhelming numbers, before,
perhaps, he could get within shelter of the harbour, and make
arrangements for his defence, which had stirred up all the devil within
him. One of his remarks gave Ada some gleam of comfort, for it made her
fancy that the pirate did not suspect that the wounded man at his feet
was Captain Fleetwood, the enemy from whom he had most to dread, and she
hoped that he still believed him to be simply the Maltese sailor he
appeared. Hope, however slight, will, as the light branch keeps a
drowning man above the surface of the treacherous waters, support a
person amid present distress and difficulty, who would otherwise sink
overwhelmed beneath them; and this idea, which had happily occurred to
Ada, prevented her giving way to the wretchedness she felt at the
failure of her lover's gallant attempt to rescue her, and the too
probable destruction he had brought on himself and those associated with
him. The pirate every now and then turned his head to watch the
advancing boats, expecting them each instant to fire on him; but seeing
that they did not do so, he grew calmer as he approached the harbour,
knowing that he should soon be in safety within it.

Though trembling lest her care should evince her interest in Fleetwood,
Ada, as soon as Zappa's attention had been withdrawn from her, again
employed herself in endeavouring to staunch the blood which flowed from
his wound. As she bent over him she found he breathed; and as she held
his hand in hers, she felt that his pulse was still beating, though slow
and faint. It had at last occurred to her, that it would be wiser to
call Marianna to her assistance, though, with the natural jealousy of
love, she was unwilling that any one but herself should tend, while she
was able, the object of her affection, but the