"O, Captain Dundas, don't leave me, sir!" cried an imploring voice: it
was the little bugler of the 62nd. A score of wounded men were crying
the same thing: it was impossible to attend to them all: but snatching
up the boy, I bore him off, and leaped into the launch of the _Electra_;
in the stern sheets of which sat Bianca, rolled up in my regimental
cloak, to protect her from the chill morning air and damp sea
atmosphere. She sobbed convulsively with terror and joy. Santugo was
in one of the gun-boats; Macnesia sat beside him--Lloyd, Lascelles, and
the soldiers, were crowded into other craft, and the whole gave a
reckless cheer of defiance.
"Shove off!" cried the captain of the _Electra_, through his speaking
trumpet; "give way lads--cheerily now!" and the oars dipped in the
water, as the sails were trimmed, and the sterns were turned to Scylla.
The whole embarkation had been effected with matchless rapidity and
order; notwithstanding that the cannon-shot, the bursting shells, the
grenades, and musketry, lashed and tore the water into foam around us:
the sea all the while, roaring and rolling in mighty mountains of froth
against the cliffs; where it boiled as if in impotent wrath--recoiling
from the slippery and frowning bluff, to run its waves in quick
succession into the vast and gloomy Dragara: which has often been
compared to the mouth of some wondrous monster essaying to engulf all
ocean. One seaman was killed, and ten dangerously wounded: but these
casualties were deemed trifling, under so heavy a fire; and when the sea
was heaving and breaking beneath us, threatening every instant to swamp
the boats, to dash them against each other, or on these inhospitable
rocks, which nearly proved so fatal to the "sacred argo" of old.
With three hearty cheers we moved off. Scarcely had we done so, when the
tricolor waved over Scylla, and the tall red plumes and glancing
bayonets of the 101st appeared among the ruined walls; while a party of
the 23rd rushed shouting down the staircase, with such impetuosity that
many fell headlong into the seething sea.
We had done our duty. Though by force of numbers they had beaten us out
of the last stronghold of Ferdinand IV. and the British in Calabria,
they had gained only a pile of shapeless ruin; and at the dear price of
many a gallant fellow. We were now on the open ocean--three minutes
before, we were manning the frightful breach!
The storm died away, and the bright Ausonian sun arose in his glory: the
shores of Sicily, studded with towns and castles, the green woods, the
sparkling sandy beach, the bright Neptunian hills, and the red tower of
the Lantern, were all radiant with light. The shore we had left, and
the blood-stained Scylla, diminished in the distance, as our sailors
bent to their flashing oars, and the bellying canvass swelled on the
morning wind, which blew from the pine-clad Apennines.
"Courage, Bianca!" I exclaimed, and threw my arm around her; "we are
beyond range even of cannon, now."
"Anima mia," she whispered, as she laid her head on my shoulder, "you
are safe and I am happy!"
And thus ended MY CAMPAIGN IN THE CALABRIAS.