“Say not so, Raoul; be prudent for the sake of your country—­”

“But not for thine, Ghita?”

“Yes, Raoul, and for mine also.  I wish not to conceal how much happier I shall be in hearing of your welfare and peace of mind.  I fear, though an enemy, it will ever give me pleasure to learn that thou art victorious.  But here is the road, yonder the cottage where my uncle waits for me, and we must part.  Heaven bless thee,—­Raoul; my prayers will be full of thee.  Do not—­do not risk more to see me; but, if—­” The heart of the girl was so full, that emotion choked her.  Raoul listened intently for the next word, but he listened in vain.

“If what, dear Ghita?  Thou wert about to utter something that I feel is encouraging.”

“Oh! how I hope it may be so, my poor Raoul!  I was going to add, if God ever touches thy heart, and thou would’st stand before his altar, a believer, with one at thy side who is ready and anxious to devote all to thee but her love of the Being who created her, and her treasures of future happiness, seek Ghita; thou will find her thou would’st have.”

Raoul stretched forth his arms, to clasp the tender girl to his bosom; but, fearful of herself, she avoided him, and fled along the path, like one terrified with the apprehension of pursuit.  The young man paused a moment, half inclined to follow; then prudence regained its influence, and he bethought him of the necessity of getting to a place of safety while it was yet night.  The future was still before him, in hope, and that hope led him to look forward to other occasions to press his suit.

Little, however, did Raoul Yvard, much as he prized her, know Ghita Caraccioli.  Her nature was full of womanly sensibilities, it is true, and her heart replete with tenderness for him in particular; but the adoration she paid to God was of that lasting character which endures to the end.  In all she said and felt, she was truth itself; and while no false shame interposed to cause her to conceal her attachment, there was a moral armor thrown about her purposes that rendered them impregnable to the assaults of the world.

Our hero found Ithuel sleeping in the boat, in perfect security.  The Granite man thoroughly understood his situation, and foreseeing a long row before him, he had quietly lain down in the stern-sheet of the yawl, and was taking his rest as tranquilly as he had ever done in his berth on board le Feu-Follet.  He was even aroused with difficulty, and he resumed the oar with reluctance.  Before descending the funnel, Raoul had taken a survey of the water from the rocks above.  He listened intently, to catch any sounds that might arise from the English boats.  But nothing was visible in the obscurity, while distance or caution prevented anything from being audible.  Satisfied that all was safe outside, he determined to row out into the bay, and, making a circuit to avoid his enemies, push to the westward, in the expectation of finding his lugger in the offing.  As there was now a considerable land-breeze, and the yawl was lightened of so much of her freight, there was little doubt of his being able to effect his purpose, so far as getting out of sight was concerned, at least, long ere the return of light.