“Here is a boat close to our gangway,” said the officer of the deck, who had kindly interested himself in behalf of so interesting a girl, “with a single man in it; a few grani would induce him to put you ashore.”

The fellow in the boat was of the class of the lazzaroni, wearing a clean cotton shirt, a Phrygian cap, and cotton trousers that terminated at the knees, leaving his muscular arms and legs entirely bare; models for the statuary, in their neatness, vigor, and proportions.  The feet alone formed an exception to the ordinary attire, for they were cased in a pair of quaint canvas shoes that were ornamented a little like the moccasins of the American Indian.  Carlo caught the eye of this man, who appeared to be eagerly watching the frigate’s gangway for a fare, and holding up a small piece of silver, in a moment the light boat was at the foot of the accommodation-ladder.  Ghita now descended; and as soon as her uncle and she were seated, the skiff, for it was little more, whirled away from the ship’s side, though two or three more, who had also been left by recreant boatmen for better fares, called out to him to receive them also.

“We had best go alone, even though it cost us a heavier price,” quietly observed Carlo to his niece as he noted this occurrence.  “Pull us a short distance from the ship, friend;—­here, where there are fewer boats, and thou shalt meet with a fair reward.  We have an interest in this solemn scene, and could wish not to be observed.”

“I know that well, Signor Carlo,” answered the boatman; “and will see that you are not molested.”

Ghita uttered a faint exclamation, and, looking up, first saw that the feigned lazzarone was no other than Raoul Yvard.  As her uncle was too unobservant in general to detect his disguise, he made a sign for her to command herself, and continued rowing as if nothing had occurred.

“Be at ease, Ghita,” said Carlo; “it is not yet the time, and we have twenty good minutes for our aves.”

Ghita, however, was far from being at ease.  She felt all the risks that the young man now ran, and she felt that it was on her account solely that he incurred them.  Even the solemn feeling of the hour and the occasion was disturbed by his presence, and she wished he were away on more accounts than one.  Here he was, nevertheless, and in the midst of enemies; and it would not have been in nature for one of her tender years and sex, and, most of all, of her feelings, not to indulge in a sentiment of tender gratitude toward him who had, as it were, thrust his head into the very lion’s mouth to do her a service.  Between Raoul and Ghita there had been no reserves on the subject of parentage, and the former understood why his mistress was here, as well as the motive that brought her.  As for the last, she glanced timidly around her, fearful that the lugger, too, had been brought into the throng of ships that crowded the anchorage.  For this, however, Raoul was much too wary, nothing resembling his little craft being visible.