Part 46 (1/2)
”You are right,” said the lieutenant, as the mids.h.i.+pman came on deck.
”She is little more than half way between us. All hands make sail! We must do our best to overhaul her first; for, though I have slight hopes on the subject, she may have some of our friends in her, trying to escape.”
Every st.i.tch of canvas the brig could carry on a wind was now set; but the mistico stood boldly on, and it became a matter of great doubt whether or not she would have time to get hold of her prey, and escape back to port before the _Ione_ could come up with her.
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.
The triumph of Zappa at recovering Miss Garden was great, in proportion to his anger against those whom he suspected to have a.s.sisted at her escape; but once having got her again in his power, and safe inside his well-fortified harbour, he felt as a cat does towards the unfortunate mouse it has caught and killed--that he might leave and return to her when he pleased, without a chance of her again running away: he therefore hurried off to the fort, at the summit of the cliffs, to superintend the destruction of the English flotilla, which he believed had been sent against him; for he could not have supposed that so small a force as was really there would have thus boldly followed him to the very mouth of his den.
On his arrival at the fort, he found old Vlacco busily engaged in pointing the guns to bear down on the British boats; and on his sounding his well-known bugle, a large number of his followers collected with their fire-arms, to a.s.sist in the defence of the post. While they all were occupied in firing at the enemy, Vlacco sent into the tower to bring a supply of powder for the guns, from some casks, which, with the usual carelessness of the Greeks, had been left there without the slightest precaution against accident. A cask was broached, and much of the powder scattered about. After the boats had disappeared, the pirates were retiring from the fort, when Tompion's gallant attack on the mistico called them back, and it was at this time that a spark from the lantern of a man, sent for a further supply of powder, fell among the scattered grains, and produced the conflagration I have before spoken of. As the flames burst forth, and burnt with terrific energy, Zappa flew towards the building, in vain endeavouring to find means of entrance. Wherever he attempted it at the door or window, the fire drove him back. In vain he called on the name of Nina. She neither answered nor did she appear at either of the cas.e.m.e.nts. His usual calm demeanour had completely deserted him, and he seemed like a madman as he rushed round the building, urging his followers to bring ladders to enable him to mount to the story, where he expected to find her. Two were at last found, but they were far too short to be of use, and he was soon warned to retire to a distance by the explosion of another cask of powder, which shook the old walls to their foundation, and he had scarcely got to a secure position, when the remainder igniting, the whole edifice came tumbling down at once, and lay a heap of smoking ruins on the ground. Some of the burning embers had fallen on the roof of the adjoining building, and that now blazed up, and being very dry and rotten, burnt with equal fury, so that in a very short time it was reduced to a heap of ashes: the old walls of the castle, against which it was built, alone standing. It was thus that all traces of the means by which the prisoners had made their escape were obliterated. The islanders could do nothing to stop the progress of the flames, for the only water procurable was from a deep well, whence only a small quant.i.ty could be drawn up at a time, and there were no means at hand to get it from the sea, over the cliffs.
The conflagration had the effect of attracting the population, far and near, to the spot--the fishermen and other inhabitants of the neighbouring village, the seamen from the vessels, and indeed everybody in the bay, came rus.h.i.+ng up the ravine to see what was taking place.
Zappa stood at a distance, contemplating the scene of havoc. He thought of Nina in all her youth and beauty, of her fond affection, her deep devotion, of all the sacrifices she had made for him--and callous and bad as was his heart, a transient pang of bitter regret visited it, for the cruel return he had made her.
”This, then, Nina Montifalcone, is the fate I have reserved for you. An agonising death the only reward I can give you for that love which still endured after I had torn aside the bright veil with which your fervid imagination had clothed me, and showed myself to you in my real colours--that love which I verily believed would have endured after you knew that my heart had been captivated by one still younger, still more beautiful, than yourself.”
As he gave vent aloud to these feelings, so strange to his bosom, which now agitated him, he suddenly stood like one transfixed, his breath came thick, his eye dilated, for there before him, with the full glare of the fire falling on her, stood the figure of Nina. Her countenance was pale as death, and she neither spoke nor approached him.
”Who are you?” he exclaimed at length, in a voice trembling with emotion; ”speak, if you would not drive me to distraction. Tell me whence you come, and why you now come to seek me.”
”I am Nina Montifalcone,--some time your wife, whom you oft have told you loved,” she replied, in a tone of deep dejection. ”What I soon shall be, the greedy worm may best tell.”
Her voice recalled him to his senses, though her words seemed strange.
”Nina,” he exclaimed, ”you overheard my vain ravings when I thought you had fallen a victim to yon devouring flames; but think no more of them, and tell me by what miracle you escaped from the tower, before the flames burst forth--for afterwards, no power could have saved you.”
”I had gone to comfort and succour the unfortunate, those whom your injustice has made prisoners in this island, and I sought you even now to plead for them,” she answered boldly; the tone of meek sorrow with which she had before spoken being no longer discernible.
”You take me unawares, and would work on me at a weak moment, Nina,” he replied. ”But know you, girl, that the persons of whom you speak are spies, come here in disguise to work my destruction? Ah! you look surprised, incredulous! Yes, these men--these pretended Maltese--are no other than Englishmen, belonging to a s.h.i.+p of war lying at no great distance from this island, for the express purpose of capturing my vessel, my gallant _Sea Hawk_, if they can fall in with her; and I have not told you all--their leader is the captain himself, the very man to whom that fair English girl, of whom you are so foolishly jealous, is betrothed. I knew this, I say, from the first; but I pretended ignorance, for I wished to discover who were their accomplices among those I trusted. He even now lies dead or dying in the bay below, and I left the fair girl with him, that she might know I did not kill him; but I tell you, Nina, if he were to recover, he should not live to escape, and to bring destruction on me. If he dies now, it is through his own folly, and no one can accuse me of having slain him; so, except you would wish to make his blood rest on my head, do not pray for his recovery.”
”Oh! you would not do so black a deed--you would not slay an innocent man because he came to regain the bride of whom you had deprived him!
for I feel a.s.sured that for no other object did he visit this island; and that should he recover, were you to give her to him, and allow him and those who came with him to depart, he would promise never to molest you, or to take advantage in any way of the knowledge he has obtained by his visit to this island.”
Nina spoke with firmness and energy, as she said this, for she fancied that her arguments were so good, she could not fail to gain her object.
”Ah! have you been consulting with the English signora and her lover, that you plead their cause so well?” he exclaimed, with the bitter tone in which he often spoke. ”Well, I will see to it, and now come to the fair lady's palace, she will afford us lodging there, since ours is burnt down; which, Nina, it appears, troubles you but little. Know you not, girl, that I have there lost property to the value of many thousand piastres? That is alone enough to sour a man's temper, till he can replace them, which, were I to follow your wishes, it would be long enough before I could do.”
”My mind was too much occupied with the object I have spoken to you about, to think of the loss, even though everything I possessed was destroyed,” she replied, quietly. ”But I still felt thankful that I was preserved from the dreadful fate which would have been mine had I remained in the building; and if you also feel grat.i.tude to Heaven for this, show it by granting life and liberty to the English captain and his friends. You accuse me of being influenced by them to plead their cause; but it is not they who influence me,--it is honour, justice, right, and oh! my husband, remember that their fate may soon be yours, and that if you show not mercy to them, you can expect none in return.”
”I know that, Nina, I expect none,” he answered, fiercely. ”Were I to fall into the power of my enemies, they would tear me limb from limb, and mock my dying agonies with their laughter, ere they showed me mercy or gave me liberty. I do, Nina, as I expect to be done by; I hope for nothing else. But why do I stand prating here? My house is burnt to the ground, and my property destroyed, so we must go and crave shelter of the Signora Ada, for you and I have many things to do before I again close my eyes in sleep.”
When they arrived at the Stranger's Tower, as the Greeks had called the building inhabited by Ada, they found that she and Marianna had already arrived there, and returned to their former quarters, according to Nina's advice, as if nothing had happened to disturb them. She had, indeed, seen them safe lodged there before she sought her husband; and she now returned to them by his directions, to take some rest, which she much required, while he occupied the lower and still unfurnished chamber as a sort of council-hall, where he summoned Vlacco and some of his chief officers to consult what, under the present circ.u.mstances, it would be necessary for them to do.
As soon as old Vlacco and one or two others had arrived, he sent to have all the prisoners brought before him, that he might examine them respecting their object in venturing on his island, and their motive for leaving it. His visit to the _Ione_ must be remembered, and that he there only learned that her captain had gone on a secret expedition, and he naturally concluded that he was accompanied by his own crew. His surprise was, therefore, very great, when Captain Va.s.silato, Bowse, and the Maltese, Pietro, were dragged rudely into his presence.
”What!” he muttered, as he saw the honest skipper. ”Have my people again done their work so clumsily, that another vessel has floated to bear evidence against me? It must be he, and yet he looks so unconscious of having seen me before, that I must be deceived. There were five prisoners,” he remarked, aloud. ”Where are the other two?”
”We cannot find them, chief,” was the answer. ”We have looked in every direction, we have inquired of all, but no one has seen them or heard of them.”