Drying her
eyes, she curtsied to the vice-governatore and the podesta and then
answered the question.
"Signori," she said, "it is a relief to meet countrymen and old
acquaintances on board this strange ship; and I look to you for
protection. I do not call it strange or evil company for an orphan niece
to be on the water with her uncle and one that has ever been a father
to her."
"Ah--sure enough, vice-governatore, this is Carlo Giuntotardi, the
uncle; and the man who dwells so much with the saints, even on earth,
that he seldom speaks to a sinner. But thou knowest, little Ghita, that
one of thy watermen is no less a person that Raoul Yvard, the wickedest
corsair that sails out of France, and the pest and persecution of the
whole Italian coast? Did the church condescend to notice such an
unbelieving republican, it would be to command all its faithful to unite
in their prayers for his destruction."
"Raoul Yvard!" repeated Ghita, with sufficient astonishment in her
manner to satisfy any reasonable amount of wonder on the part of the
other. "Are you certain, Signor Podesta, of the truth of what you say?"
"As certain as the confession of the party himself can make us."
"Confession, Signore!"
"Si, bella Ghita; confession--your boatman--your man of Capri--your
lazzarone confesses himself to be neither more nor less than the
commander of that worker of iniquity, le Feu-Follet."
"Does le Feu-Follet do more than other cruisers of the enemy?"--but
Ghita felt she was getting to be indiscreet, and she ceased.
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