It was now two o'clock, or an hour or two before the
appearance of light, and the breeze off the adjoining continent was
sufficiently strong to force a good sailing vessel, whose canvas had
been thickened by the damps of night, some four knots through the water;
and as Capraya was less than thirty miles from Porto Ferrajo, abundant
time had been give to the Proserpine to gain her offing; that ship
having come from behind her cover, as soon as the sun had set, and the
haze of evening settled upon the sea.
Ithuel, usually so loquacious and gossiping in his moments of leisure,
was silent and observant when he had anything serious on hand. His eye
was still on the window in which the lamp was visible, the pure olive
oil that was burning in it throwing out a clear, strong flame; when
suddenly a blue-light flashed beneath the place, and he got a momentary
glimpse of the body of the man who held it, as he leaned forward from
another window. The motion which now turned his head seaward was
instinctive; it was just in time to let him detect a light descending
apparently into the water like a falling star; but which, in fact, was
merely a signal lantern of the Proserpine coming rapidly down from the
end of her gaff.
"Ah! d--n you," said Ithuel, grating his teeth and shaking his fist in
the direction of the spot where this transient gleam of brightness had
disappeared--"I know you, and your old tricks with your lanterns and
night-signals. Here goes the answer.
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