 | CHAPTER I. The wing-and-wing, or, Le Feu-follet |  |
1. CHAPTER I.
Comes down upon the waters; all its hues,
From the rich sunset to the rising star,
Their magical variety diffuse:
And now they change; a paler shadow strews
Its mantle o'er the mountains; parting day
Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues
With a new colour as it gasps away,
The last still loveliest, till — 'tis gone — and all is grey.”
Childe Harold.
The charms of the Tyrrhenian Sea have been sung since
the days of Homer. That the Mediterranean, generally,
and its beautiful boundaries of Alps and Apennines, with its
deeply indented and irregular shores, forms the most delightful
region of the known earth, in all that relates to climate,
productions, and physical formation, will be readily enough
conceded by the traveller. The countries that border on
this midland water, with their promontories buttressing a
mimic ocean—their mountain-sides teeming with the picturesque
of human life — their heights crowned with watch-towers—their
rocky shelves consecrated by hermitages, and
their unrivalled sheet dotted with sails, rigged, as it might be,
expressly to produce effect in a picture, form a sort of world
apart, that is replete with delights to all who have the happy
fortune to feel charms, which not only fascinate the beholder,
but which linger in the memories of the absent like visions
of a glorious past.
Our present business is with this fragment of a creation
that is so eminently beautiful, even in its worst aspects, but
While all admit how much nature has done for the Mediterranean,
none will deny that, until quite recently, it has been
the scene of more ruthless violence, and of deeper personal
wrongs, perhaps, than any other portion of the globe. With
different races, more widely separated by destinies, than even
by origin, habits and religion, occupying its northern and
southern shores, the outwork, as it might be, of Christianity
and Mohammedanism, and of an antiquity that defies history,
the bosom of this blue expanse has mirrored more violence,
has witnessed more scenes of slaughter, and heard more
shouts of victory, between the days of Agamemnon and
Nelson, than all the rest of the dominions of Neptune together.
Nature and the passions have united to render it like the
human countenance, which conceals by its smiles and godlike
expression, the furnace that so often glows within the
heart, and the volcano that consumes our happiness. For
centuries, the Turk and the Moor rendered it unsafe for the
European to navigate these smiling coasts; and when the
barbarian's power temporarily ceased, it was merely to give
place to the struggles of those who drove him from the
arena by their larger resources.
The circumstances which rendered the period that occurred
between the years 1790 and 1815, the most eventful of
modern times, are familiar to all; though the incidents which
chequered that memorable quarter of a century, have already
passed into history. All the elements of strife that then
agitated the world, appear now to have subsided as completely
as if they owed their existence to a remote age; and
living men recall the events of their youth, as they regard
the recorded incidents of other centuries. Then, each month
brought its defeat, or its victory; its account of a government
overturned, or of a province conquered. The world
was agitated like men in a tumult. On that epoch the timid
look back with wonder; the young, with doubt; and the
restless, with envy.
The years 1798 and 1799 were two of the most memorable
of this ever-memorable period; and to that stirring and
teeming season we must carry the mind of the reader, in
order to place it in the midst of the scenes it is our object to
portray.
Towards the close of a fine day in the month of August,
a light fairy-like craft was fanning her way, before a gentle
westerly air, into what is called the Canal of Piombino,
steering easterly. The rigs of the Mediterranean are proverbial
for their picturesque beauty and quaintness, embracing
the xebeque, the felucca, the polacre, and the
bombarda, or ketch; all unknown, or nearly so, to our own
seas; and occasionally the lugger. The latter, a species of
craft, however, much less common in the waters of Italy,
than in the Bay of Biscay and the British Channel, was the
construction of the vessel in question; a circumstance that
the mariners who eyed her from the shores of Elba, deemed
indicative of mischief. A three-masted lugger, that spread
a wide breadth of canvass, with a low, dark hull, relieved
by a single and almost imperceptible line of red beneath her
channels, and a waist so deep that nothing was visible above
it but the hat of some mariner, taller than common, was
considered a suspicious vessel, and not even a fisherman
would have ventured out within reach of a shot, so long as
her character was unknown. Privateers, or corsairs, as it
was the fashion to term them, (and the name, with even its
English signification, was often merited by their acts,) not
unfrequently glided down that coast; and it was sometimes
dangerous for those who belonged to friendly nations to
meet them, in moments when the plunder that a relic of
barbarism still legalizes, had failed.
The lugger was actually of about one hundred and fifty
tons admeasurement; but her dark paint, and low hull, gave
her an appearance of being much smaller than she really
was; still, the spread of her canvass, as she came down
before the wind wing-and-wing, as seamen term it, or with
a sail fanning like the heavy pinions of a sea-fowl, on each
side, betrayed her pursuits; and, as has been intimated, the
mariners on the shore, who watched her movements, shook
their heads in distrust, as they communed among themselves,
in very indifferent Italian, concerning her destination and
object. This observation, with its accompanying discourse,
occurred on the rocky bluff above the town of Porto Ferrajo,
in the Island of Elba, a spot that has since become so renowned
as the capital of the mimic dominion of Napoleon.
Indeed, the very dwelling which was subsequently used by
of the speakers, looking out towards the entrance of the
canal, and the mountains of Tuscany; or rather, of the
little principality of Piombino, the system of merging the
smaller in the larger states of Europe not having yet been
brought into extensive operation. This house, a building
of the size of a better sort of country residence of our own,
was then, as now, occupied by the Florentine governor of
the Tuscan portion of the island. It stands on the extremity
of a low rocky promontory that forms the western ramparts
of the deep extensive bay, on the side of which, ensconced
behind a very convenient curvature of the rocks, which here
incline westward in the form of a hook, lies the small port,
completely concealed from the sea, as if in dread of visits
like those which might be expected from craft resembling
the suspicious stranger. This little port, not as large in
itself as a modern dock in places like London or Liverpool,
was sufficiently protected against any probable dangers, by
suitable batteries; and as for the elements, a vessel laid upon
a shelf in a closet would be scarcely more secure. In this
domestic little basin, which, with the exception of a narrow
entrance was completely surrounded by buildings, lay a
few feluccas, that traded between the island and the adjacent
main, and a solitary Austrian ship, which had come
from the head of the Adriatic, in quest of iron, as it was
pretended, but as much to assume the appearance of trade
with the Italian dependency, as with any other purpose.
At the moment of which we are writing, however, but a
dozen living beings were visible in or about all these craft.
The intelligence that a strange lugger, resembling the one
described, was in the offing, had drawn nearly all the mariners
ashore; and most of the habitués of the port had followed
them up the broad steps of the crooked streets which
led to the heights behind the town; or to the rocky elevation
that overlooks the sea from north-east to west. The
approach of the lugger had produced some such effect on the
mariners of this unsophisticated and little-frequented port,
as that of the hawk is known to excite among the timid
tenants of the barn-yard. The rig of the stranger, in itself
a suspicious circumstance, had been noted two hours before,
by one or two old coasters, who habitually passed their idle
and indulging in gossip; and their conjectures had drawn to
the Porto Ferrajo mall some twenty men, who fancied themselves,
or who actually were, cognoscenti in matters of the
sea. When, however, the low, long, dark hull, which
upheld such wide sheets of canvass, became fairly visible,
the omens thickened, rumours spread, and hundreds collected
on the spot, which, in Manhattanese parlance, would probably
have been called a battery. Nor would the name have
been altogether inappropriate, as a small battery was established
there, and that, too, in a position which would easily
throw a shot two-thirds of a league, into the offing; or about
the distance that the stranger was now from the shore.
Tommaso Tonti was the oldest mariner of Elba, and,
luckily, being a sober, and usually a discreet man, he was
the oracle of the island, in most things that related to the
sea. As each citizen, wine-dealer, grocer, innkeeper, or
worker in iron, came upon the height, he incontinently inquired
for Tonti, or 'Maso, as he was generally called; and
getting the bearings and distance of the grey-headed old
seaman, he invariably made his way to his side, until a
group of some two hundred men, women and children, had
clustered near the person of the pilota, as the faithful
gather about a favourite expounder of the law, in moments
of religious excitement. It was worthy of remark, too, with
how much consideration this little crowd of gentle Italians
treated their aged seaman, on this occasion; none bawling
out their questions, and all using the greatest care not to get
in front of his person, lest they might intercept his means
of observation. Five or six old sailors, like himself, were
close at his side: these, it is true, did not hesitate to speak
as became their experience. But Tonti had obtained no
small part of his reputation by exercising great moderation
in delivering his oracles, and, perhaps, by seeming to know
more than he actually revealed. He was reserved, therefore;
and while his brethren of the sea ventured on sundry conflicting
opinions concerning the character of the stranger,
and a hundred idle conjectures had flown from mouth to
mouth, among the landsmen and females, not a syllable that
could commit the old man, had escaped his lips. He let the
others talk at will; as for himself, it suited his habits, and
portentous silence.
We have spoken of females: as a matter of course, an
event like this, in a town of some three or four thousand
souls, would be likely to draw a due proportion of the gentler
sex to the heights. Most of them contrived to get as near
as possible to the aged seaman, in order to obtain the first
intelligence, that it might be the sooner circulated; but, it
would seem, that among the younger of these, there was
also a sort of oracle of their own, about whose person
gathered a dozen of the prettiest girls; either anxious to hear
what Ghita might have to say in the premises, or, perhaps,
influenced by the pride and modesty of their sex and condition,
which taught them to maintain a little more reserve
than was necessary to the less refined portion of their companions.
In speaking of condition, however, the word must
be understood with an exceedingly limited meaning. Porto
Ferrajo had but two classes of society, the trades-people and
the labourers; although there were, perhaps, a dozen exceptions,
in the persons of a few humble functionaries of the
government, an avvacato, a medico, and a few priests. The
governor of the island was a Tuscan of rank, but he seldom
honoured the place with his presence, and his deputy was a
professional man, a native of the town, whose original
position was too well known to allow him to give himself airs
on the spot where he was born. Ghita's companions, then,
were daughters of shopkeepers, and persons of that class,
who, having been taught to read, and occasionally going to
Leghorn, beside being admitted by the deputy to the presence
of his housekeeper, had got to regard themselves as a little
elevated above the more vulgar curiosity of the less cultivated
girls of the port. Ghita herself, however, owed her
ascendency to her qualities, rather than to the adventitious
advantage of being a grocer's or an inkeeper's daughter, her
origin being unknown to most of those around her, as indeed
was her family name. She had been landed six weeks
before, and left by one who passed for her father, at the inn
of Cristoforo Dovi, as a boarder, and had acquired all her
influence, as so many reach notoriety in our own simple
society, by the distinction of having travelled; aided, somewhat,
by her strong sense, great decision of character, perfect
was singularly graceful and feminine, and a face, that, while
it could scarcely be called beautiful, was, in the highest
degree, winning and attractive. No one thought of asking
her family name; and she never appeared to deem it necessary
to mention it. Ghita was sufficient; it was familiar to every
one; and, although there were two or three others of the
same appellation, in Porto Ferrajo, this, by common consent,
got to be the Ghita, within a week after she had landed.
Ghita, it was known, had travelled, for she had publicly
reached Elba in a felucca, coming, as was said, from the
Neapolitan states. If this were true, she was probably the
only person of her sex in the town, who had ever seen Vesuvius,
or planted her eyes on the wonders of a part of Italy
that has a reputation second only to that of Rome. Of course,
if any girl in Porto Ferrajo could imagine the character of
the stranger, it must be Ghita; and it was on this supposition
that she had unwittingly, and, if the truth must be owned,
unwillingly, collected around her a clientelle of at least a
dozen girls of her own age, and apparently of her own class.
The latter, however, felt no necessity for the reserve maintained
by the curious who pressed near 'Maso; for, while
they respected their guest and friend, and would rather listen
to her surmises than those of any other person, they had
such a prompting desire to hear their own voices, that not a
minute escaped without a question, or a conjecture, both
volubly and quite audibly expressed. The interjections, too,
were somewhat numerous, as the guesses were crude and
absurd. One said it was a vessel with despatches from
Livorno, possibly with “His Eccellenza” on board; but she
was reminded that Leghorn lay to the north, and not to
the west. Another thought it was a cargo of priests, going
from Corsica to Rome; but she was told that priests were
not in sufficient favour, just then, in France, to get a vessel
so obviously superior to the ordinary craft of the Mediterranean,
to carry them about. While a third, more imaginative
than either, ventured to doubt whether it was a vessel
at all; deceptive appearances of this sort not being of rare
occurrence, and usually taking the aspect of something out
of the ordinary way.
“Si,” said Annina, “but that would be a miracle, Maria;
of the holidays are past? I believe it is a real vessel.”
The others laughed, and, after a good deal of eager chattering
on the subject, it was quite generally admitted that
the stranger was a bonâ fide craft, of some species or another,
though all agreed she was not a felucca, a bombarda,
or a sparanara. All this time Ghita was thoughtful and
silent; quite as much so, indeed, as Tommaso himself, though
from a very different motive. Notwithstanding all the gossip,
and the many ludicrous opinions of her companions, her
eyes scarcely turned an instant from the lugger, on which
they seemed to be riveted by a sort of fascination. Had
there been one, there, sufficiently unoccupied to observe this
interesting girl, he might have been struck with the varying
expression of a countenance that was teeming with sensibility,
and which too often reflected the passing emotions of its
mistress's mind. Now an expression of anxiety, and even
of alarm, would have been detected by such an observer, if
acute enough to separate these emotions, in the liveliness of
sentiment, from the more vulgar feelings of her companions;
and now, something like gleamings of delight and happiness
flashed across her eloquent countenance. The colour came
and went often; and there was an instant, during which the
lugger varied her course, hauling to the wind, and then falling
off again, like a dolphin at its sports, when the radiance
of the pleasure that glowed about her soft blue eyes, rendered
the girl perfectly beautiful. But none of these passing
expressions were noted by the garrulous group around the
stranger female, who was left very much to the indulgence
of the impulses that gave them birth, unquestioned, and
altogether unsuspected.
Although the cluster of girls had, with feminine sensitiveness,
gathered a little apart from the general crowd, there
were but a few yards between the spot where it stood, and
that occupied by 'Maso; so that when the latter spoke, an
attentive listener among the former might hear his words.
This was an office that Tonti did not choose to undertake,
however, until he was questioned by the podestâ, Vito Viti,
who now appeared on the hill in person, puffing like a whale
that rises to breathe, from the vigour of his ascent.
“What dost thou make of her, good 'Maso?” demanded
some time in silence, feeling authorized, in virtue of his
office, to question whom he pleased.
“Signore, it is a lugger;” was the brief, and, certainly, the
accurate reply.
“Ay, a lugger; we all understand that, neighbour Tonti;
but what sort of a lugger? There are felucca-luggers, and
polacre-luggers, and bombarda-luggers, and all sorts of luggers;
which sort of lugger is this?”
“Signor Podestâ, this is not the language of the port.
We call a felucca, a felucca; a bombarda, a bombarda; a
polacre, a polacre; and a lugger, a lugger. This is, therefore,
a lugger.”
'Maso spoke authoritatively, for he felt that he was now
not out of his depth, and it was grateful to him to let the
public know how much better he understood all these matters
than a magistrate. On the other hand, the podestâ was
nettled, and disappointed into the bargain, for he really
imagined he was drawing nice distinctions, much as it was
his wont to do in legal proceedings; and it was his ambition
to be thought to know something of every thing.
“Well, Tonti,” answered Signor Viti, in a protecting
manner, and with an affable smile, “as this is not an affair
that is likely to go to the higher courts at Florence, your
explanations may be taken as sufficient, and I have no wish
to disturb them—a lugger, is a lugger.”
“Si, Signore; that is just what we say in the port. A
lugger, is a lugger.”
“And yonder strange craft, you maintain, and at need
are ready to swear, is a lugger?”
Now 'Maso seeing no necessity for any oath in the affair,
and being always somewhat conscientious in such matters,
whenever the custom-house officers did not hold the book,
was a little startled at this suggestion, and he took another,
and a long look at the stranger, before he answered.
“Si, Signore,” he replied, after satisfying his mind once
more, through his eyes, “I will swear that the stranger,
yonder, is a lugger.”
“And canst thou add, honest Tonti, of what nation? The
nation is of as much moment, in these troubled times, as the
rig.”
“You say truly, Signor Podestâ; for if an Algerine, or a
Moor, or even a Frenchman, he will be an unwelcome visiter
in the Canal of Elba. There are many different signs about
him, that sometimes make me think he belongs to one people,
and then to another; and I crave your pardon, if I ask a
little leisure, to let him draw nearer, before I give a positive
opinion.”
As this request was reasonable, no objection was raised.
The podestâ turned aside, and observing Ghita, who had
visited his niece, and of whose intelligence he entertained
a favourable opinion, he drew nearer to the girl, determined
to lose a moment in dignified trifling.
“Honest 'Maso, poor fellow, is sadly puzzled,” he observed,
smiling benevolently, as if in pity for the pilot's embarrassment;
“he wishes to persuade us that the strange craft
yonder is a lugger, though he cannot, himself, say to what
country she belongs!”
“It is a lugger, Signore,” returned the girl, drawing a long
breath, as if relieved by hearing the sound of her own voice.
“How! dost thou pretend to be so skilled in vessels, as
to distinguish these particulars at the distance of a league?”
“I do not think it a league, Signore—not more than half
a league; and the distance lessens fast, though the wind is
so light. As for knowing a lugger from a felucca, it is as
easy as to know a house from a church; or one of the
reverend padri, in the streets, from a mariner.”
“Ay, so I would have told 'Maso on the spot, had the
obstinate old fellow been inclined to hear me. The distance
is just about what you say; and nothing is easier than
to see that the stranger is a lugger. As to the nation?—”
“That may not be so easily told, Signore, unless the vessel
show us her flag.”
“By San Antonio! thou art right, child; and it is fitting
she should show us her flag. Nothing has a right to approach
so near the port of his Imperial and Royal Highness,
that does not show its flag, thereby declaring its honest
purpose, and its nation. My friends, are the guns in the
battery loaded, as usual?”
The answer being in the affirmative, there was a hurried
consultation among some of the principal men in the crowd,
and then the podestâ walked towards the government-house
in the batteries, and preparations were made for levelling an
eighteen-pounder in the direction of the stranger. Most of
the females turned aside, and stopped their ears, the battery
being within a hundred yards of the spot where they stood;
but Ghita, with a face that was pale, certainly, though with
an eye that was steady, and without the least indications of
fear, as respected herself, intensely watched every movement.
When it was evident the artillerists were about to
fire, anxiety induced her to break silence.
“They surely will not aim at the lugger!” she exclaimed.
“That cannot be necessary, Signor Podestâ, to make the
stranger hoist his flag. Never have I seen that done in the
south.”
“You are unacquainted with our Tuscan bombardiers,
Signorina,” answered the magistrate, with a bland smile,
and an exulting gesture. “It is well for Europe that the
grand duchy is so small, since such troops might prove even
more troublesome than the French!”
Ghita, however, paid no attention to this touch of provincial
pride, but pressing her hands on her heart, she stood
like a statue of suspense, while the men in the battery executed
their duty. In a minute the match was applied, and
the gun was discharged. Though all her companions
uttered invocations to the saints, and other exclamations, and
some even crouched to the earth in terror, Ghita, the most
delicate of any, in appearance, and with more real sensibility
than all united expressed in her face, stood firm and erect.
The flash and the explosion evidently had no effect on her;
not an artillerist among them was less unmoved in frame, at
the report, than this slight girl. She even imitated the
manner of the soldiers, by turning to watch the flight of the
shot, though she clasped her hands as she did so, and appeared
to await the result with trembling. The few seconds
of suspense were soon past, when the ball was seen to strike
the water fully a quarter of a mile astern of the lugger, and
to skip along the placid sea for twice that distance further,
when it sunk to the bottom by its own gravity.
“Santa Maria be praised!” murmured the girl, a smile
half pleasure, half irony, lighting her face, as unconsciously
marksmen!”
“That was most dexterously done, bella Ghita!” exclaimed
the magistrate, removing his two hands from his
ears; “that was amazingly well aimed! Another such
shot as far ahead, with a third fairly between the two, and
the stranger will learn to respect the rights of Tuscany.
What say'st thou now, honest 'Maso — will this lugger tell
us her country, or will she further brave our power?”
“If wise, she will hoist her ensign; and yet I see no signs
of preparation for such an act.”
Sure enough, the stranger, though quite within effective
range of shot from the heights, showed no disposition to
gratify the curiosity, or to appease the apprehensions of
those in the town. Two or three of her people were visible
in her rigging, but even these did not hasten their work, or
in any manner seem deranged at the salutation they had
just received. After a few minutes, however, the lugger
jibed her mainsail, and then hauled up a little, so as to look
more towards the head-land, as if disposed to steer for the
bay, by doubling the promontory. This movement caused
the artillerists to suspend their own, and the lugger had fairly
come within a mile of the cliffs, ere she lazily turned aside
again, and shaped her course once more in the direction of
the entrance of the Canal. This drew another shot, which
effectually justified the magistrate's eulogy, for it certainly
flew as much ahead of the stranger, as the first had flown
astern.
“There, Signore,” cried Ghita eagerly, as she turned to
the magistrate, “they are about to hoist their ensign, for
now they know your wishes. The soldiers surely will not
fire again!”
“That would be in the teeth of the law of nations, Signorina,
and a blot on Tuscan civilization. Ah! you perceive
the artillerists are aware of what you say, and are putting
aside their tools. Cospetto! 'tis a thousand pities, too, they
couldn't fire the third shot, that you might see it strike the
lugger; as yet, you have only beheld their preparations.”
“It is enough, Signor Podestâ,” returned Ghita, smiling,
for she could smile now that she saw the soldiers intended
no furthermischief; “we have all heard of your Elba gunners,
when there is occasion. Look, Signore! the lugger is about
to satisfy our curiosity.”
Sure enough, the stranger saw fit to comply with the
usages of nations. It has been said, already, that the lugger
was coming down before the wind wing-and-wing, or
with a sail expanded to the air on each side of her hull, a
disposition of the canvass that gives to the felucca, and to
the lugger in particular, the most picturesque of all their
graceful attitudes. Unlike the narrow-headed sails that a
want of hands has introduced among ourselves, these foreign,
we might almost say classical mariners, send forth their
long pointed yards aloft, confining the width below by the
necessary limits of the sheet, making up for the difference
in elevation, by the greater breadth of their canvass. The
idea of the felucca's sails, in particular, would seem to have
been literally taken from the wing of the large sea-fowl, the
shape so nearly corresponding, that, with the canvass spread
in the manner just mentioned, one of those light craft has a
very close resemblance to the gull or the hawk, as it poises
itself in the air, or is swooping down upon its prey. The
lugger has less of the beauty that adorns a picture, perhaps,
than the strictly latine rig; but it approaches so near it as
to be always pleasing to the eye, and, in the particular evolution
described, is scarcely less attractive. To the seaman,
however, it brings with it an air of greater service, being a
mode of carrying canvass that will buffet with the heaviest
gales, or the roughest seas, while it appears so pleasant to
the eye in the blandest airs, and smoothest water.
The lugger that was now beneath the heights of Elba had
three masts, though sails were spread only on the two that
were forward. The third mast was stepped on the taffrail;
it was small, and carried a little sail, that, in English, is
termed a jigger, its principal use being to press the bows of
the craft up to the wind, when close hauled, and render her
what is termed weatherly. On the present occasion, there
could scarcely be said to be anything deserving the name of
wind, though Ghita felt her cheek, which was warmed with
the rich blood of her country, fanned by an air so gentle,
that occasionally it blew aside tresses, that seemed to vie
with the floss silk of her native land. Had the natural
the sea air could scarcely have disturbed them. But the
lugger had her lightest duck spread — reserving the heavier
canvass for the storms — and it opened like the folds of a
balloon, even before these gentle impulses; occasionally collapsing,
it is true, as the ground-swell swung the yards to
and fro, but, on the whole, standing out and receiving the
air, as if guided more by volition than any mechanical power.
The effect on the hull was almost magical; for, notwithstanding
the nearly imperceptible force of the propelling
power, owing to the lightness and exquisite mould of the
craft, it served to urge her through the water at the rate of
some three or four knots in the hour; or quite as fast as an
ordinarily active man is apt to walk. Her motion was
nearly unobservable to all on board, and might rather be
termed gliding than sailing, the ripple under her cut-water
not much exceeding that which is made by the finger, as it
is moved swiftly through the element; still the slightest
variation of the helm changed her course, and this so easily
and gracefully, as to render her deviations and inclinations
like those of the duck. In her present situation, too, the
jigger, which was brailed, and hung festooned from its light
yard, ready for use, should occasion suddenly demand it,
added singularly to the smart air which everything wore
about this craft, giving her, in the seaman's eyes, that particularly
knowing and suspicious look, which had awakened
'Maso's distrust.
The preparations to show the ensign, which had caught
the quick and understanding glance of Ghita, and which had
not escaped even the duller vision of the artillerists, were
made at the outer end of this jigger-yard. A boy had
appeared on the taffrail, and he was evidently clearing the
ensign-halyards for that purpose. In half a minute, however,
he disappeared, and then a flag rose steadily, and by
a continued pull, to its station. At first the bunting hung
suspended in a line, so as to evade all examination; but, as
if everything on board this light craft were on a scale as
airy and buoyant as herself, the folds soon expanded, showing
a white field, traversed at right angles with a red cross,
and having a union of the same tint in its upper and inner
corner.
“Inglese!” exclaimed 'Maso, infinitely aided in this conjecture
by the sight of the stranger's ensign — “Si, Signore;
it is an Englishman; I thought so, from the first, but as the
lugger is not a common rig for vessels of that nation, I did
not like to risk anything, by saying it.”
“Well, honest Tommaso, it is a happiness to have a mariner
as skilful as yourself, in these troublesome times, at one's
elbow! I do not know how else we should ever have found
out the stranger's country. An Inglese! Corpo di Bacco!
Who would have thought that a nation so maritime, and
which lies so far off, would send so small a craft this vast
distance! Why, Ghita, it is a voyage from Elba to Livorno,
and yet, I dare say, England is twenty times farther.”
“Signore, I know little of England, but I have heard that
it lies beyond our own sea. This is the flag of the country,
however; for that have I often beheld. Many ships of that
nation come upon the coast, further south.”
“Yes, it is a great country for mariners; though they
tell me it has neither wine nor oil. They are allies of the
emperor, too, and deadly enemies of the French, who have
done so much harm in upper Italy. That is something,
Ghita, and every Italian should honour the flag. I fear this
stranger does not intend to enter our harbour!”
“He steers as if he did not, certainly, Signor Podestâ,”
said Ghita, sighing so gently that the respiration was audible
only to herself. “Perhaps he is in search of some of the
French, of which they say so many were seen, last year,
going east.”
“Ay, that was truly an enterprise!” answered the magistrate,
gesticulating on a large scale, and opening his eyes
by way of accompaniments. “General Bonaparte, he who
had been playing the devil in the Milanese, and the states
of the Pope, for the last two years, sailed, they sent us word,
with two or three hundred ships, the saints, at first, knew
whither. Some said, it was to destroy the holy sepulchre;
some, to overturn the Grand Turk; and some thought, to
seize the islands. There was a craft in here, the same
week, which said he had got possession of the Island of
Malta; in which case we might look out for trouble in Elba.
I had my suspicions, from the first!”
“All this I heard, at the time, Signore, and my uncle probably
could tell you more—how we all felt at the tidings!”
“Well, that is all over now, and the French are in Egypt.
Your uncle, Ghita, has gone upon the main, I hear?” this
was said inquiringly, and it was intended to be said carelessly;
but the podestâ could not prevent a glance of suspicion
from accompanying the question.
“Signore, I believe he has; but I know little of his affairs.
The time has come, however, when I ought to expect him.
See, Eccellenza,” a title that never failed to mollify the
magistrate, and turn his attention from others entirely to
himself, “the lugger really appears disposed to look into
your bay, if not actually to enter it!”
This sufficed to change the discourse. Nor was it said
altogether without reason; the lugger, which by this time
had passed the western promontory, actually appearing disposed
to do as Ghita conjectured. She had jibed her mainsail
— brought both sheets of canvass on her larboard side,
and luffed a little, so as to cause her head to look towards
the opposite side of the bay, instead of standing in, as before,
in the direction of the canal. This change in the lugger's
course produced a general movement in the crowd, which
began to quit the heights, hastening to descend the terraced
streets, in order to reach the haven. 'Maso and the podestâ
led the van, in this descent; and the girls, with Ghita in their
midst, followed with equal curiosity, but with eager steps.
By the time the throng was assembled on the quays, in the
streets, on the decks of feluccas, or at other points that
commanded the view, the stranger was seen gliding past, in
the centre of the wide and deep bay, with his jigger hauled
out, and his sheets aft, looking up nearly into the wind's eye,
if that could be called wind, which was still little more than
the sighing of the classical zephyr. His motion was necessarily
slow, but it continued light, easy, and graceful. After
passing the entrance of the port a mile or more, he tacked
and looked up towards the haven. By this time, however,
he had got so near in to the western cliffs, that their lee deprived
him of all air; and after keeping his canvass open
half an hour in the little roads, it was all suddenly drawn to
the yards, and the lugger anchored.
| CHAPTER I. The wing-and-wing, or, Le Feu-follet | |