Raoul gladly seized upon this promise as a hint to depart, and he took his leave with suitable acknowledgments of gratitude and delight.  When he got out of the palazzo, however, he gave a long, low whistle, like a man who felt he had escaped from a scene in which persecution had been a little lightened by the ridiculous, and uttered a few curses on the nations of the north, for being so inconsiderate as to have histories so much longer and more elaborate than he conceived to be at all necessary.  All this passed as he hastened along the promenade, which he found deserted, every human being having apparently left it.  At length he thought he perceived a female form some distance ahead of him and in a part of the walk that was never much frequented.  Hastening toward it, his quick eye discerned the person of her he sought, evidently waiting for his approach.

“Raoul,” exclaimed Ghita, reproachfully, “in what will these often repeated risks finally end?  When so fairly and cleverly out of the harbor of Porto Ferrajo, why did you not possess the prudence to remain there?”

“Thou know’st the reason, Ghita, and why ask this question?  San Nettuno! was it not handsomely done; and is not this brave vice-governatore rarely mystified!—­I sometimes think, Ghita, I have mistaken my vocation, which should have been that of a diplomate.”

“And why a diplomate in particular, Raoul—­thou art too honest to deceive long, whatever thou may’st do on an occasion like this, and in a pressing emergency.”

“Why?—­but no matter.  This Andrea Barrofaldi and this Vito Viti will one day know why.  And now to our business, Ghita, since le Feu-Follet cannot always decorate the bay of Porto Ferrajo.”

“True,” interrupted the girl, “and I have come for no other purpose than to say as much myself.  My dear uncle has arrived, and he intends to sail for the Torri with the first felucca.”

“There!—­this has done more to make me believe in a Providence than all the preaching of all the padri of Italy!  Here is the lugger to take the place of the felucca, and we can sail this very night.  My cabin shall be yours entirely, and with your uncle for a protector no one can raise an evil tongue against the step.”

Ghita, to own the truth, expected this very offer, which, agreeable as it was, her sense of propriety would certainly have prevented her from accepting, but for one consideration:  it might be made the means of getting Raoul out of an enemy’s port and, in so much, out of harm’s way.  This, with one of her affectionate heart, was an object to which she would have sacrificed appearances of even a graver character.  We do not wish the reader, however, to get a false impression of this girl’s habits and education.  Although the latter, in many particulars, was superior to that received by most young women of her class in life, the former were simple, and suited to her station, as well as to the usages of her country.  She had not been