150 RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT. 



tion into the Palazzo garden, and had only to step at once 

 upon the terrace walk, which lay in the bright moonlight, 

 clear and unoccupied. The maiden advanced a few paces, 

 looked for a moment towards the villa, which was brilliantly 

 illuminated, and as the light streamed through the Piazza 

 could discern figures moving beneath it. But what, to her, 

 was that abode of luxury, its picture-laden galleries, its 

 gilded halls ? what now even one amidst the motley throng 

 which filled them ? She turned away, and looked towards 

 the sea and the illumined city. To her, little were now its 

 gorgeous palaces, its humble dwellings, its glare, its bustle, 

 its numerous inhabitants, few of whom she had ever known, 

 and of these not one was she likely to see again. 



In all that wide expanse, teeming with life, and now, both 

 on land and sea, more than usually alive, the whole of interest 

 not dead to her, lay centred in the galley intended to convey 

 her on the morrow to another shore. It and its fellow vessels 

 she could plainly discern at anchor in the harbour, the sea- 

 men, in honour of St. John, having hoisted their lamps in aid 

 of the general illumination, while the few left on board up- 

 lifted their hoarse voices in alternate hymns and strains less 

 sacred. Bianca, as she looked and listened, was, in fancy, 

 already, with her father, of their company, ploughing the deep 

 blue sea, away, away from the receding shores of Genoa. 



"Bianca my Bianca!" whispered a well-known voice, and 

 Marco, wearing a Spanish dress and masked, but to her in no 



