CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

When the first glimmerings of consciousness revisited the mind of Ada

Garden, she felt that some dreadful calamity had befallen her, without

being able to comprehend its nature or extent. An undefined terror, an

insupportable oppression at the heart made her feel that death must soon

release her from her sufferings. She had neither the power nor the will

to stir a limb, or to open her eyes to discover her real state. The

noise of the engagement and the thunder of the guns, the shrieks and

cries of the combatants, still rung with fearful clearness in her ears,

yet without enabling her to remember the causes which had produced them.

She felt that she had been deprived of her only guardian--that she was

alone in the world without friends to protect or counsel her; but how

her uncle had died she could not comprehend. Then she thought she saw

him sinking down into the deep blue sea, and his countenance was turned

towards her with the smile it wore when he was pleased, and down, down

he sunk till he reached the yellow sand at the bottom, where, through

the clear water, she could see him resting, and beckoning her to raise

him up; and then there seemed to pass a vessel full of strange, fierce

forms, shrieking and mocking her; and whenever she stooped down to aid

the old man, it would come between them and conceal him from her.

At last a deep-drawn sigh gave notice that she was returning to a

consciousness of the dreadful reality. She opened her eyes with

difficulty, and for an instant gazed round her, and then again closed

them. That glance had revealed to her that she was no longer in her own

cabin, though she still felt that she was at sea. For some time after

this she remained with her eyes closed, trying to collect her scattered

thoughts, till at last she remembered the fight with the _Sea Hawk_, and

the appearance of Zappa at the door of her cabin.

The thoughts of what had occurred were almost sufficient to drive back

her mind to a state of insensibility, if not to madness itself; but she

felt that all the courage and energy she could muster were requisite for

her guidance, and by a strenuous exertion of the intellect, she

conquered the feeling which was so nearly overpowering her. Once more

she opened her eyes, and tried to raise herself, that she might discover

where she was.

The movement she made attracted the attention of some one who appeared

to be occupied at a little distance from her, and who instantly flew to

her side.

"Oh, my dear mistress, the saints have heard my prayers, and you have

come to life again!" exclaimed the voice of Marianna, who immediately

presented herself before her, with a countenance in which pleasure

overcame every other feeling.

"Oh, tell me, where am I? What has happened?" exclaimed Ada, eagerly;

but the exertion or excitement caused her again almost to faint.

"Hush, hush, my dear mistress," whispered Marianna. "Do not be alarmed.

You are not in a condition to ask questions, nor to listen to my

answers, so I shall say nothing. You have been very ill with a fever,

and you are to take this medicine, which will do you much good."

As she spoke, she presented a glass, filled with a cooling beverage,

which, as Ada felt very thirsty, and her mouth dreadfully parched, she

gratefully drank off and lay back on her pillows.

She saw that she was in a large cabin, furnished and ornamented with

much taste; and through the open stern-ports, from which a light pure

breeze blew in and cooled her fevered brow, she saw the calm blue sea

glittering in the sunshine, and in the far distance the land rising in

picturesque hillocks from out of the water. While she was gazing at

this calm and soothing scene, and meditating on the meaning of

Marianna's words, she fell into a quiet slumber.

The Maltese girl watched her mistress till she saw that she slept, and

then busied herself in putting the cabin in order, and in dusting the

furniture, as if she were in a room on shore.

The cabin was, as has been described, in the after part of the vessel,

and occupied its entire width. It was fitted up with bird's-eye maple,

and the mouldings were gilt.

There were two large sofas, or standing bed-places, on either side, with

brass bars overhead, by which a curtain could be drawn round them.

The space between the two ports was occupied by a rack, on which were

arranged with much taste, a number of richly-embossed arms, pistols,

swords, and daggers--and against the bulkhead was another stand, filled

with muskets and cutlasses, brightly polished.

On the couch farthest from the door, on the starboard side, lay Ada;

with her feet towards the stern, and her head supported by pillows; so

that the full force of such air as could find its way through the ports

should blow on her face. As she slept, a fresh bloom slowly crept over

her cheek, which had hitherto been of a deathlike paleness, and as her

faithful attendant watched its appearance, she hailed it as a sign of

returning health.

In the centre of the cabin was a table on which now stood a large vase,

filled with sweet-scented flowers, which spoke of the shore and

civilisation. There was, indeed, in the arrangement of the cabin

generally, a mixture of elegant luxury and warlike preparation, which

gave it the appearance of the cabin of a yacht fitted for a voyage among

savage or treacherous people. Whatever she was, Marianna seemed

perfectly at home. Her work-basket was on the table, and various things

belonging to it were scattered about; as were several articles of female

apparel, which showed also that she considered the cabin sacred to her

mistress and herself. When she had arranged everything to her

satisfaction, she again sat down composedly to her work, and amused

herself, as she plied her needle, by singing a song of her native

island, in a tone, however, too low to run any risk of disturbing her

mistress. After some time she got tired of singing, and then as some

people are apt to do, who are fond of keeping their tongues going when

they have nobody else to speak to, she began to talk to herself. She

did not raise her voice, it is true, above a whisper, but still it was

sufficient to give exercise to that little fidgety occupant of the

mouth.

"Well, this is all very nice, and very pleasant, and very agreeable; and

the gentlemen are very civil, and very respectful, and very kind; but I

wonder when we shall ever reach the shore," she said; and then she went

on singing again, and then once more began to talk as follows:--"I

suppose, as they say, we shall at last reach the shore, and everything

will be as it should be, and my mistress will be happy and contented

after all her troubles--poor dear, sweet, young lady--I'm sure she ought

to be. Well, it does puzzle me, exceedingly--that it does--I cannot

make it out, no more, I am sure, would wiser heads than mine. But there

is one thing I am very sure of, that Signor Paolo is one of the wisest

and most amiable young gentlemen I ever saw. So melancholy, too, he

seems--something very dreadful weighs on his spirits, I am sure. I

don't think he is in love--I thought so at first; but when I hinted that

he was, he gave the nearest approach to a smile of which he is capable,

which I'm sure he would not have done, if he was a victim of the tender

passion. One thing is certain, however--he saved the life of my sweet

young mistress. If it had not been for his knowing how to doctor, I'm

sure she would have died--dear, dear, how sad it would have been--what

would have become of me, too! Well, when she recovers, and I tell her

all that has happened, I am sure she'll think the same of him that I do.

When she does begin, she will be asking me so many questions--I wish

that I could answer one half of them--first, she'll want to know what

has become of the poor old gentleman, her uncle. Well, he certainly was

a passionate, grumpy, sour old man as ever lived. Yet he had his good

points--he had a kind heart, which made him do many a kind thing in his

own rough way. He was generous, too, when he thought people deserving,

and then he dotingly loved my young mistress, and intended to leave her

all his money. What shall I tell her has become of him? I can tell her

nothing; for I know no more than she does; or what has become of the

brave Captain Bowse, or his polite mates, or even of that stupid

long-legged fellow, Mitchell. I'm afraid, after the dreadful noise I

heard, they must all long ago have gone to the other world. But to

believe so would make my young lady sad, and would agitate her, and

Signor Paolo says she must be kept quiet, so I will tell her I know

nothing. Ah! that will be the safest plan."

While she was running on in this way, a gentle knock was heard at the

door--she sprang up, and went to it cautiously.

"Who is there?" she asked.

"It is I, Paolo--may I enter?" answered a voice from without.

"Oh yes, indeed you may, Signor Paolo," she whispered through the

keyhole, and at the same time withdrew the bolts from the door. As she

did so she fancied she heard a bolt drawn slowly back outside. When the

door opened, a young man entered, habited in the Greek costume, though

his features were more like those of one born in Italy, as was the

language he spoke.

"Has the lady yet awoke, and have you given her the potion I left for

her?" he asked in a cautious tone.

"_Si, signor_, she not only awoke, and drank up the draught, but she

began to talk, and has now gone to sleep again," replied Marianna. "See

how sweetly she sleeps."

The young man stepped across the cabin so that he might be able to see

Ada's countenance.

He observed the slight roseate tinge which had visited her cheek, and

her calm, quiet breathing.

"The lady does well," he whispered. "I will send you another draught to

give her when she awakes, which she will not however do until towards

the evening; and then, when she speaks, try to tranquillise her mind,

and induce her again to sleep. The slightest agitation might be fatal

to her."

"Oh, then, signor, I will tell her anything you advise," answered

Marianna. "But I am much puzzled what to say; and I want you to tell

me, among many other things, where we are going; because I know that

will be one of the first questions she will ask me, and I'm sure I can't

answer it."

The young man hesitated before he spoke.

"Tell her," he said, at last, "that we are going to a place where she

will be kindly and honourably treated; but that you know not the name of

it. I am not the commander of this vessel, nor can I direct her course;

and I am not allowed to say more than I have."

"Oh, but you have great influence with him who is commander; and you can

make him do what you like, I am sure," urged the Maltese girl.

"Indeed, I cannot," answered the young man, mournfully. "My influence

extends but a short way, and can be but rarely exerted in the cause of

right. Were I to attempt too much, I should become altogether

powerless."

He stopped, as if he had said too much, and seemed about to leave the

cabin. He again, however, went up to Marianna, and whispered--"It may

be better for your mistress and yourself that she remain as if overcome

with illness till the conclusion of the voyage. Urge her not to rise,

or to attempt to go on deck; and tell her that the leech who has

attended her, has prescribed perfect silence and calmness. You

understand me?"

"I do, signor--though I cannot comprehend your reasons," returned

Marianna. "But, at all events, you can tell me when the voyage is to be

brought to a conclusion. It has lasted already a long time. I did not

think the Mediterranean sea was so large."

"Even there I cannot satisfy you," returned he who was called by

Marianna Signor Paolo. "Certainly not for many days; it may be even for

some weeks. You observe, that we do not always continue sailing. We

visit the shore occasionally, and, sometimes, remain hours together at

anchor."

"I cannot say exactly that I discovered that," answered the girl. "I

thought sometimes the ship appeared to sail very slowly, and that we

were very near the shore; but I knew not that we were altogether at

rest. Yet I cannot understand why you should not tell me where we are

going to."

"Perhaps I myself do not know," returned Paolo evasively. "The

commander of this ship does not always say where he will next steer."

"There again--who is your commander?" asked the girl. "It is strange

you should not have told me his name."

"You are much too curious, Marianna," answered Signor Paolo. "I must

again warn you to prevent your mistress from asking questions, which you

cannot answer; and now I must leave you, for the present; for I dare not

remain long at a time here."

Saying this, to the great disappointment of Marianna, who had made up

her mind to enjoy a long chat, he took his departure; and she bolted and

locked the door behind him--saying, as she did so, "I will do as he

tells me, at all events; and, as I may not go out, no one else shall

come in without my leave."

The bright rays of the sun were streaming through the stern-ports, and

glittering on the arms and the gilt mouldings of the bulkheads, when Ada

Garden again awoke. Her eyes were dazzled by the bright refulgence

which they encountered, and almost blinded, she closed them, till

Marianna bethought of drawing the curtain across the foot of her couch.

In so doing she saw that her mistress was awake.

Now, although the glare of the sunlight had disturbed Ada's slumbers, it

had had the beneficial effect of imparting somewhat of its brightness to

her spirits; and instead of the gloomy oppression which she had before

experienced, she now felt a glow of hope circling round her heart; and

she was fully prepared to credit the favourable account of the state of

affairs which Marianna was about to give her as soon as she was

questioned.

"Where am I--what has happened?" she asked, endeavouring to sit up.

"You must take another draught before I am at liberty to tell you

anything, my dear signora," answered Marianna, bringing her the goblet

which Paolo had sent. She drank the cooling mixture, and it served

still further to revive her. "Now let me arrange your pillows, and I

will tell you all you want to know," said the faithful girl, arranging

her couch. "There, now you are comfortable! Well, first, we are with

very kind, considerate people, who do everything I wish; and we are as

safe as we can be on board ship--though I wish ships had never been

invented; then we are going to a very beautiful place--though, when we

are to get there depends on the wind and other circumstances, which I am

not clever enough to explain."

She was running on in this style, when Ada cut her short by abruptly

asking--

"Where is my uncle? Is he on board? Why does he not come to me?"

"Ah! there are some little mysteries which I cannot explain just now,

and that is one of them," promptly returned Marianna. "The signor

colonel is not on board the ship, nor is the good Captain Bowse--they

all went away in the other one; and we--that we might be much safer--we

came on board this one. Here we are, and here we must remain, till you,

my dear signora, can get well enough to go on shore; but there is no

hurry, for we could not be better off than we are now. So, as you have

asked a great many questions, which your doctor said that if you did I

was not to answer, yet I have done so, you must try and go fast asleep

again, and forget all about it."

Ada was still too weak, she discovered, to talk; and her mind had not

either sufficiently recovered its clearness to perceive the glaring

evasiveness of her servant's replies; so, satisfied that her

apprehensions of danger were groundless, she amused herself by examining

the fittings of the cabin, and by watching through the open ports the

magnificent effect of the setting sun, which now just dipping in the

water, seemed to convert the whole ocean into a sheet of liquid gold.

She thus discovered that the ship was steering an easterly course, from

which she concluded that she was still on her voyage to Cephalonia.

Two more days passed away, and served to restore to Ada Garden her

strength both of mind and body, though the uncertainty of the past and

present, and painful anticipations for the future, much retarded her

complete recovery.

In vain she questioned Marianna. Her lively attendant knew but little--

and even that, she had been taught, it would be beneficial to her

mistress to conceal. The young Italian had once entered the cabin while

she was awake, and had felt her pulse, in order to be better able to

prescribe for her, but had remained not a moment longer than was

absolutely necessary in her presence. She resolved, however, the next

time he came to detain and question him; for the description given of

him by Marianna, already made her place confidence in him. She had not

long to wait for an opportunity; for that evening, just before sunset,

his knock was heard at the cabin doors, and with the usual caution he

entered.

"How is your mistress?" he asked of Marianna. "Does she feel stronger?"

"She is awake to answer for herself," returned the Maltese girl, "and

will gladly speak to you."

The young man started--he had so generally found her unconscious, that

he seemed not to have expected to find her able to question him. He,

however, crossed the cabin and stood with his arms folded, leaning

against the bulkhead, where she could not observe his countenance. Ada

was the first to speak.

"I am glad you have come, signor," she said, in a low tone; "for I am

anxious to express my gratitude to you for the attention with which, as

my maid tells me, you have treated me during my illness, and to which I

feel sensible I am much indebted for my recovery."

"Lady, I have but performed the duty in obedience to the order of

another," he replied, in a tone so calm that it sounded almost cold to

her ear. "I found you suffering, and I have employed what knowledge I

possess of the healing art to restore you to health. I rejoice to find

that my efforts have not been totally unavailing."

"To you, at all events, my gratitude is due," returned Ada. "And I

would lay myself under a still further obligation, by asking you to tell

me what ship I am on board, how I came here, and to where I am being

conveyed?"

The Italian hesitated, as if he was framing an answer, which Ada

remarked to herself. At last he replied,--"Lady, your first question I

may answer. You are on board a man-of-war belonging to the patriot

Greeks, who are struggling for their liberty against the infidel Turks;

and you are in possession of the commander's cabin. How you came here I

am less able to inform you, and thus much only, further, I know, that we

are sailing for one of the islands of the Grecian Archipelago, where you

will be landed, and placed with those who will tend you carefully.

Lady, I regret that I cannot tell you more."

The suspicions of Ada were much increased on hearing these words.

"I believe that you, signor, would not willingly deceive me," she

observed. "The very tone of your voice forbids the supposition. But

tell me, as the Greek patriots are on friendly terms with the English,

should I desire to be placed on board a British ship-of-war, of which I

believe there are several in these seas, would not your commander comply

with my wishes?"

"The commander of this ship is anxious to do all he can to gratify you,

lady; but to do as you wish may not be in his power."

"Signor," said Ada, glancing at his features. "I have heard that voice

before. You speak Italian well; but so do many Greeks. Tell me, are

you the commander of this ship?"

"Lady, I am not," returned the young man emphatically. "I am but acting

as the surgeon of the ship, to soothe the anguish of those who are

wounded. I have no authority on board."

"Then why does not the commander visit me?" said Ada, "I would see him

and urge my request to be placed under the protection of the British

flag. Surely he would not refuse to do so."

"Oh, lady, do not ask to see him," exclaimed the Italian, forgetting his

cold reserve and previous caution. "You know not what misfortune you

may bring on yourself by so doing. He believes that you are now sick,

almost to death, and that your only chance of restoration to health is

rest and quiet on shore."

"You speak in enigmas," said Ada, quickly taking alarm. "Surely the

commander of a man-of-war would not detain an English lady against her

will; and my having recovered would make him still more anxious to

enable me to return to my friends."

The Italian stood for some minutes lost in thought.

"You know not lady how you came to be on board this vessel," he said.

"You now compel me to tell you. Your attendant informs me that the ship

in which you sailed from Malta was attacked by a corsair, and captured;

but that you and she were the only persons conveyed on board the pirate

vessel; and that you, having fainted during the engagement, were

unconscious of all that took place. It appears that for a short time

only you remained on board the pirate, still in a happy state of

unconsciousness of the misfortune which had befallen you, when we caught

sight of the ship, chased, and captured her. You and your attendant

were found on board, respectfully treated, and in possession of the

chief cabin. This was a suspicious circumstance, for who could tell

that you were not willingly on board."

"Ah!" exclaimed Ada, almost smiling at the atrocious supposition.

"Surely no one could believe that I was acting in consort with pirates?"

"Lady, I do not; but all may not so readily believe the truth," returned

the Italian.

"But am I and my innocent attendant then to be punished as pirates,"

asked Ada, with a hysterical laugh.

"Scarcely so, lady; but you may be required to give evidence against

them," returned the Italian.

"I can give no evidence against them," said Ada; "for, as you have been

informed, I have been deprived of consciousness since I was found on

board the English brig."

"The observation you make, lady, is much in your favour," remarked the

Italian in a low tone.

"Then I am to understand," continued Ada, not noticing it, "that I am,

with an attendant, a prisoner in this cabin."

"So I am compelled to confess, with much regret, is the case," replied

the surgeon.

"Then I understand it all," she ejaculated, compressing her lips, and

fixing her eyes upon the young man, who had advanced a few paces to the

after part of the cabin. "From man I can expect no aid,--Heaven will

not desert me."

"Lady, God never deserts those who trust in him," he replied, about to

quit the cabin.

"Stay," exclaimed Ada. "Those features, too, I have beheld before.

Tell me where it was I saw you?"

"Lady, fancy often strangely deceives us," returned the surgeon, in his

former cold tone, and before she had time to ask another question, he

had quitted the cabin.

She, as Marianna had before observed, heard a bolt drawn across it.

On board what vessel they were there might be a doubt; but there was

none that they were prisoners.

The Pirate of the Mediterranean: A Tale of the Sea · 第 16 / 46 题