68 The Convent of Catania. [Juxy, 
On the last night of their meeting, which her forebodings had pro- 
tracted beyond the usual hour, Montalto had returned by the customary 
road to the house of his lodging. In a solitary place, he was suddenly 
surprised by the appearance of disguised men, who, rushing from their 
concealment, deprived him of the means of defence, pinioned, and 
blindfolded him. He was raised into a sort of litter, to which he was 
fastened, and thus conveyed along until he heard the roar of the sea 
waves, and found himself deposited in an open boat. Here one of 
the party, after giving some orders, left his companions, and, in the 
feigned tones, he could recognize the hated voice of his enemy—the 
young Alessi. They presently made sail, and having restored to him 
the use of his limbs and relieved him from the bandage thrown over his 
eyes, he was enabled to discover that they were coasting in a northerly 
direction, though for what purpose he could not gather. The crew 
consisted of six men, rough and hard-featured mariners, who replied to 
his interrogations with sullen brevity, and seemed to be acting under 
the orders of one whose mien might, indeed, be distinguished from that 
of his companions ; but was, nevertheless, such as could only belong to 
a person of subordinate rank. During the night they kept close into 
shore ; but with the first beams of morning, pushed farther out to sea 
without materially verging from their former course. The next night 
they glided through the straights of Messina, and made for the island 
of Stromboli. It was a placid and delicious scene ; the wind just verging 
onward the little bark without motion or irregularity : Montalto lay on 
the deck, but uncertainty of his fate prevented slumber ; around him 
were grouped the forms of the lusty mariners, perfecting the allotted 
sleep which yet remained to them before the more active season of day- 
light ;—only the helmsman continued at his ordinary work, and the one 
seamen, to whom the direction of the vessel was entrusted. The deep 
meditations of Montalto were arrested by the approach of this officer. 
He came near, and without noise, requested him to move to the fore 
part of the deck, as he had something of importance to communicate. 
His injunction was obeyed. In a moment they were to be seen in the 
glorious light of that Southern Morn, side by side, as if in conversation. 
The sea-captain, in a quick low tone, might be heard recounting his 
secrets, and the breathless interest of his hearer might prove that it was 
no common subject of confidence. Ever and anon the eyes of the nar- 
rator turned anxiously around to catch the first movements of a dis- 
turbed sleeper, or prevent the curiosity of the steersman at his post. 
The tale he teld was strange. He had been the chosen servant of the 
young Alessi for some years; he had aided him in his enterprizes, he 
had shared in his counsels. At Catania, he had learnt the story of 
Montalto, and—he knew not why, his pity had been moved. From the 
first threat of danger, whispered by his master, he had resolved to 
betriend the destined victim. His intimation to Rosina, at her prayers, 
had failed; and the evil which could not be prevented, he had now 
determined to remedy. To him was entrusted the guidance of the 
present scheme. None else knew the object or system of his measures. 
His orders were to despatch or get rid of their prisoner in any way 
that might be most convenient ; but he defied the wicked:command, and 
was resolved to save him. They could not return to Sicily, for his re- 
appearance would be the signal for the most atrocious acts of barbarous 
revenge. Neither could they long be absent, for already had sufficient 
