poor girl was little in a
condition to render her any aid; as, overcome with her fears, and the
continued excitement in which she had been kept, she had gone off in a
fainting fit, from which she was only just recovering. She heard the
voice of her mistress, and it served to revive her, and raising her
head, she dragged herself towards her.

"Oh, holy Mary, and is the brave captain killed!" she exclaimed, as she
saw Fleetwood's rigid, death-like appearance, though the dark colour
with which his skin was tinged concealed the ghastly pallor of his
countenance. "Oh, holy mother, is he dead?"

Ada grasped Marianna's arm, to make her keep silent, as she
whispered--"He is your countryman, a seaman of Malta. You must attend
to him." And she trusted that Zappa had not overheard her maid's
indiscreet exclamation. Whether he had or not, his attention was again
attracted towards them.

"You appear to take great interest in that wounded man, signora," he
observed, in a less angry tone than before.

"I do, signor," she replied, in a firm voice, without waiting for his
saying any thing further. "I perform but a woman's part towards a
wounded man, in endeavouring to alleviate his suffering. I do as I
would towards any one in a like situation; and as I would towards you,
were a shot, from the guns of my countrymen, this instant to lay you
low, and were I again carried into captivity by your orders. We are
taught by our religion, signor, not to distinguish our enemies from our
friends, when they are in affliction." Ada made this last observation
as the genuine feeling of her heart, without any hypocrisy, however
excusable some might think it, under the circumstances, and,
doubtlessly, would have staunched the wounds of her greatest enemy, to
the best of her power, had she been called on to do so; though the
anxiety and tenderness which animated her, as she watched over
Fleetwood, would have, of necessity, been wanting.

"Well, well, signora," returned Zappa. "You and your attendant are
welcome to do your best to prevent the man from dying, though he
deserves nothing at my hands; but whatever men may say of me, they shall
not justly accuse me of being a murderer in cold blood. Your countrymen
do not appear to be in a fighting mood. Perhaps they are afraid of
firing, lest they should hurt you. Is it not so, lady? I know more of
their plans than you suspect. The expedition is led by the captain of
the _Ione_, in perso