e was bathed for a
moment in a sea of purple light,--every line of it, and the huge rock
which it crowned, standing out with peculiar vividness against the
empty background. But it was a brief glory. Even while Paul was
gazing, the colouring faded away, and it resumed its former aspect.
Fair weather ahead! Every moment, as memories of his former visit to
the place thronged in upon him, Paul doubted it the more.

He was close to the entrance of the harbour now, and all his thoughts
and energies were required to pilot his yacht safely. In a few moments
the brief line was passed, and the islanders waiting about upon the
beach saw the English vessel ride smoothly into harbourage under
shadow of the huge castle rock. Presently she dropped an anchor, and
swung gracefully round. A boat was lowered, and made for the shore.

There were plenty of hands willing to help pull her in. Paul stepped
out on to the beach, and looked around for some one to whom he could
make himself understood.

They were all islanders of the rudest class; but seeing no one else,
Paul lifted his hand to the castle, and asked them the way in Italian.
They understood him, and pointed along the beach to a point where a
rude road curved inland, and reappeared a little higher up in zigzag
fashion behind the rocks. But no one offered to go a step with him. On
the contrary, directly the question had left his lips, they all shrunk
away, whispering and exclaiming amongst themselves.

"It is the son of the Englishman!" cried Antonio. "He is going into
the lion's mouth! Do not let us be seen with him. The Count may be
watching."

"I wonder if he knows his danger?" Guiseppe said thoughtfully. "He is
young and brave looking. It would be a good action to warn him."

"I would not risk it!" cried Antonio.

"Nor I!" echoed Ferdinand.

"Nor I!" chorused the others.

Guiseppe glanced at them in contempt. Then he stepped forward and laid
his hand upon Paul's shoulder--a strange, picturesque-looking object,
in his bright scarlet shirt, and trousers turned up to his knees. He
had been in Italy once, and he tried to speak the language of that
country as well as he could.

"Illustrious Englishman!" he said, "go not to that castle, the home of
the Count of Cruta. Danger lurks there for you--danger and death. It
is our lord who lives there; we are his vassals, and we are dumb. But
he is wild and fierce, and your countrymen are like devils to him.
Strange things have h