It is time to return to Clelia, and see how it fares with her and her
companions, Silvia and Orazio. As night approached, Orazio made a large
fire, which he had been directed to do by Julia, in order that the smoke
might be a guide to her vessel. He then looked out for a boat to hire,
in which to convey the women to the yacht; but as the storm rose, he
felt there would be no chance of embarking that night, and cast about
for a place of shelter until the morning.
He found a ruined tower--such towers abound on the coasts of the
Mediterranean, and are the remains of places which were erected by the
mediaeval pirates, who used them chiefly to signal to their vessels when
it would be safe to approach the shore. Here, after making his charges
as comfortable as circumstances permitted, he left them, and paced up
and down the beach, straining his eyes for a glimpse of the _Seagull_,
which, he feared, could scarcely live in such a tempest. Half blinded by
the spray, he continued his watch, dreading most of all to see the signs
of a wreck. It was after many hours he perceived a dark object tossing
about in the water, nearing and then receding, and finally stranded on
the beach. Orazio ran towards it, and was horrified to discover that it
was a human body, apparently lifeless, but still clinging to a rope
and buoy. He snatched it up in his sturdy arms, and carried it into the
tower, where he found Silvia and Clelia sitting by the fire which he had
kindled for them. The lad whom Orazio had rescued was no other than the
young English sailor washed overboard from the _Seagull_.
Silvia, aided by her daughter, stripped the inanimate lad, laid him
before the fire, and chafed him with their hands for a very long while,
until, to their great delight, he slowly returned to consciousness. Then
they wrapped him in some of their own dry garments, and hung his wet
ones before the fire, Orazio supplying them with fresh fuel. Some of
his native "grog" was wanting for poor John, but none was to be had.
Fortunately, Orazio had a flask of Orvieto, which he had given to the
travellers to warm their chilled bodies during the bitter night; and
Silvia wisely administered a liberal dose to the exhausted mariner, who,
with a stone for a pillow, and his feet towards the friendly fire, fell
by-and-by into a sound sleep--yacht, tempest, shipwreck, and angelic
nurses all forgotten together. His slumber could not have been more
profound had he been stretched upon a bed of down. The youthful Clelia,
also wearied with the fatigue of the past day, soon followed his
example, and with her head in her mother's lap, slept the sleep of the
innocent.
Orazio returned to his lonely post, and after pacing up and down the
shore in the fear of seeing some other sign of disaster, returned at
dawn to the tower to dry his dripping clothes, and refresh himself after
his dreary vigil.
Silvia alone could not sleep all that night, but only dozed
occasionally, as she thought over the misfortunes that had befallen
them. Her delicate and graceful frame had been much shaken by the
terrible occurrences of the past few days. Affectionate mother! Though
weary, she bore the weight of her precious Clelia, and though her
position was a constrained one, remained immovable lest she should
awake her. She was tormented with fear, too, for the life of her beloved
Manlio, who had escaped the fury of the priests only to be exposed to
the merciless waves; and then, as if struck with remorse for thinking
only of him, she murmured, in bitter accents, "Ah, my poor Aurelia,
to what a fete has your generous kindness brought you also!" Muttering
which reflections she then fell into another troubled doze.
The Roman outlaw slept not, even after daybreak. He felt he was too near
the cunning priests of Porto d'Anzo to be very safe. Seating himself
upon a stone which he placed near the fire, he fed it from time to time
with the wood he had previously gathered, and dried his garments one
by one, with the exception of his cloak, which he had politely insisted
upon wrapping around the ladies in the early part of the evening, as
they were but-indifferently protected from the cold. Orazio was gayly
dressed in a dark velvet suit, ornamented with silver buttons; gaiters
buckling at the knee covered a comparatively small and well-shaped
foot, and displayed his well-formed leg to advantage; a black cravat was
knotted round his handsome throat, and a red satin handkerchief, loosely
tied, fell upon his wide shoulders; a black hat, resembling in shape
those worn by the Calabrians, nattily inclined a little to the right,
crowned his head; a leathern powder-bag, embroidered with silk and
silver, slung round his waist, in the band of which were placed two
revolvers and a broad-bladed dagger, which served both as a weapon of
defense and hunting-knife, gave him a well-prepared air; not to speak
of his trusty carbine, which he has taken the precaution to reload, and
which he always rests upon his left arm. As the flickering light of the
fire fell upon him and lit up his bronzed features, an artist would have
given much to have depicted what was truly a type of strength, courage,
and manly beauty; while now and then, awakening from her uneasy slumber,
Silvia regarded him with admiring eye, and forgot for a moment her
anxieties while guarded by that faithful sentinel. It is to be regretted
that our hero, Orazio, was a "brigand;" but then he was one of the
better sort, and only from the force of circumstances, his sin being
that, like all brave and loyal men, he wished Italy to be united, and
Rome freed forever from priestly despotism.
Towards dawn Orazio approached Silvia, saying respectfully, "Signora,
we must not remain here till broad day; as soon as there is sufficient
light to show us the path to take we must depart. We are too near our
mutual enemies here to be out of danger."
"And Manlio, Julia, Aurelia, where are they?" "Probably far out at sea,"
he replied; "and let us only hope it, for so they will be safe; but it
would be well before we strike out into the woods once more to examine
the beach. God grant we may not find any more bodies there."
"God grant they may not have been cast upon the coast during this
fearful storm," ejaculated Silvia, with clasped hands and raised eyes.
A mournful silence fell upon them, broken at last by Orazio, who had
been looking out for the first streak of light in the leaden sky.
"Signora, it is time we were off."
Silvia shook her daughter gently to arouse her, and Clelia got up,
feeling greatly restored by her peaceful slumber, while Orazio, touching
John with the butt-end of his carbine, awoke him.
Then, for the first time, the sailor-boy was able to tell how he was
washed overboard, and his account gave hopes to the listeners that the
_Seagull_ was safe.
Our bandit, going first, led his party in the direction of the coast;
but, although the rain had ceased, the wind had not subsided, and the
women made their way with difficulty along the rough, uneven pathway,
the spray from the sea beating in their faces. Orazio and John, who was
now nearly recovered, searched for the tokens of a wreck, but, happily,
none were found, and they returned to Silvia and Clelia, whom they
had left in a sheltered place, with relieved countenances and cheerful
voices, saying, "Our friends are out of danger." Orazio added, "And now,
ladies, we will begin our own journey," turning at the same time to the
right, and taking a narrow footpath through the wood well known to him.
His charges, attended by John the English boy, followed in silence.