Chapter 25

"And chiefly thou, O spirit, that dust prefer,
Before all temples, the upright heart and pure,
Instruct me; for thou know'st!"

MILTON

The spot in which Carlo Giuntotardi had taken refuge is well known on
the Sorrentine shore, as the water-cavern at the ruins of Queen Joan's
country-house. Cavern it is not, though the entrance is beneath a low,
natural arch--the basin within being open to the heavens, and the place
resembling an artificial excavation made to shelter boats. Let the
origin of this little haven be what it may, art could not have devised a
more convenient or a more perfect refuge than it afforded to our
fugitives. Once through the arch, they would have been effectually
concealed from their pursuers under a noonday sun; nor would any, who
were unacquainted with the peculiarities of the entrance, dream of a
boat's lying, as it might be, buried in the rocks of the little
promontory. Neither Ghita nor her uncle any longer felt concern; but the
former announced her intention to land here, assuring Raoul that she
could easily find her way into the bridle-path which leads to St. Agata.

The desperate character of the recent chase, aided by his late almost
miraculous escape from death, joined to the necessity of parting from
his mistress, rendered our hero melancholy, if not moody. He could not
ask Ghita to share his dangers any longer; yet he felt, if he permitted
her now to quit him, the separation might be for ever. Still he made no
objection; but, leaving Ithuel in charge of the boat, he assisted Ghita
up the funnel-like side of the basin, and prepared to accompany her on
her way to the road. Carlo preceded the pair, telling his niece that she
would find him at a cottage on the way that was well known to both.

The obscurity was not so great as to render the walking very difficult,
and Raoul and Ghita pursued their course slowly along the rocks, each
oppressed with the same sensation of regret at parting, though
influenced by nearly opposing views for the future. The girl took the
young man's arm without hesitation; and there was a tenderness in the
tones of her voice, as well as in her general manner, that betrayed how
nearly her heart was interested in what was passing. Still, principle
was ever uppermost in her thoughts, and she determined now to speak
plainly, and to the purpose.

"Raoul," she said, after listening to some one of those fervent
declarations of love that were peculiarly agreeable to one of her
affectionate and sincere nature, even when she most felt the necessity
of repelling the insinuating suit; "there must be an end of this. I can
never go through again the scenes I have lately witnessed, nor allow you
to run such fearful risks.