f them
sullenly and slowly enough, but none venturing to dispute the
injunction laid upon them. The old woman waited till the scene of
tumult and revel was abandoned by all but Marcello and his son, and
then hurrying after the pirates, led the way to the burning town. In a
few minutes the two Venetians beheld, from the castle windows, the
dark forms of the freebooters moving about in the firelight, as they
busied themselves to extinguish the conflagration. Here and there the
white robe of the mysterious old woman was discernible as she flitted
from one group to another, directing their efforts, and urging them to
greater exertions.

"Strange!" said the Proveditore musingly, "that so hideous and
repulsive an old creature should exercise such commanding influence
over these bandits."

He looked round to his son as he spoke; but Antonio, worn out by the
fatigues and agitation of the day, had stretched himself upon a bench
and was already in a deep sleep. The Proveditore gazed at him for a
brief space, with an expression of mingled pity, regret, and paternal
affection upon his countenance.

"As weak of body as infirm of purpose," he murmured. "Alas! that a
name derived from old Roman ancestors should be borne by one so little
qualified to do it honour! Had it pleased Heaven to preserve to me the
child stolen in his infancy by the Moslem, how different would have
been my position! That masculine and noble boy, so full of life and
promise, would have proved a prop to my old age, and an ornament to
his country. But now, alas!"--

He continued for a while to indulge in vain regrets that the course of
events had not been otherwise; then turning to the window, he watched
the efforts made by the pirates to extinguish the flames, until a
dense cloud of smoke that overhung the town was the only sign
remaining of the conflagration.

For some time the Proveditore paced up and down the hall in anxious
thought upon his critical position, and the strange circumstances that
had led to it. In vain did he endeavour to reconcile, with what now
seemed more than ever inexplicable, the vindictive rage of Dansowich
in the dungeon, and the evidence before him that the pirate's wife was
still in existence. It was a riddle which he was unable to solve; and
at last, despairing of success, he abandoned the attempt, and sought
in slumber a temporary oblivion of the perils that surrounded him.

CHAPTER IV.

THE RECOGNITION.

Upon a di