gth assumed the position of a betrothed lover, so
that no one was surprised when, at the expiration of the appointed
time, the marriage took place. Many wondered indeed why, since
Giustiniani had disappeared, and was probably dead, any regard was
paid to the extorted promise; whilst all augured well of the union
which was preceded by so signal an instance of good faith. The
observant, indeed, noticed that throughout the ceremony Bartuccio was
absent and uneasy--looking round anxiously over the crowd assembled
from time to time. 'He is afraid to see the ghost of Giustiniani,'
whispered an imprudent bystander. The bridegroom caught the last word,
and starting as if he had received a stab, cried: 'Where, where?' No
one answered; and the ceremony proceeded in ominous gloom.

Next day, Bartuccio and his young wife, accompanied by M. Brivard,
left Santa Maddalena without saying whither they were going; and the
good people of the town made many strange surmises on the subject. In
a week or so, however, a vessel being wrecked in the Straits,
furnished fresh matter of conversation; and all these circumstances
became utterly forgotten, except by a few. 'But this drama was as yet
crowned by no catastrophe,' said the officer, 'and all laws of harmony
would be violated if it ended here.' 'Are you, then, inventing?'
inquired I. 'Not at all,' he replied; 'but destiny is a greater
tragedian than Shakspeare, and prepares _denouements_ with superior
skill.' I listened with increased interest.

The day after the departure of the married couple, a small boat with a
shoulder-of-mutton sail left the little harbour of Santa Maddalena a
couple of hours before sunset, and with a smart breeze on its quarter,
went bravely out across the Straits. Some folks who were accustomed to
see this manoeuvre had, it is true, shouted out to the only man on
board, warning him that rough weather was promised; but he paid no
heed, and continued on his way. If I were writing a romance, if,
indeed, I had any reasonable space, I would keep up the excitement of
curiosity for some time, describe a variety of terrific adventures
unknown to seamen, and wonderful escapes comprehensible only by
landsmen, and thus make a subordinate hero of the bold navigator. But
I must be content to inform the reader, that he was Paolo, a servant
of Giustiniani's mother, who had lived in perfect retirement since her
son's disappearance, professing to have no news of him. In reality,