“Santa Maria be praised!” murmured the girl, a smile half pleasure, half irony, lighting her face, as unconsciously to herself she spoke, “these Tuscan artillerists are no fatal 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 preparations 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 toward the headland, 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 Podesta,” returned Ghita, smiling, for she could smile now that she saw the soldiers intended no further mischief; “we have all heard of your Elba gunners, and what I have seen convinces me of what they can do, 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 canvas 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