Chapter 30

"How beautiful is sorrow, when 'tis drest
By virgin innocence! It makes
Felicity in others, seem deformed."

DAVENANT.

We must return to the rocks, and the melancholy scene they offered. Our
purposes will be answered, however, by advancing the time into the
evening, omitting many things that the reader can imagine without our
relating them.

It is scarcely necessary to say that Andrea Barrofaldi and Vito Viti
took no part in the bloody transactions we have related. When all was
over, however, they drew near to the rocks, and, sitting in their boat,
contemplating the sad spectacle presented within the narrow compass of
the islet of the ruins, the following short dialogue occurred
between them;

"Vice-governatore," demanded the podestà, pointing to the place where
Sir Frederick lay, a motionless corpse, Raoul bleeding, and others were
writhing under their wounds--"do you call this reality, or is it a part
of that damnable doctrine which is enough to set the whole earth by the
ears, and to turn men into tigers and hawks?"

"I fear, neighbor Vito, this will only prove too true. I see the bodies
of Sir Dashwood and Sir Smees; and God knows how many more have this day
departed for the world of spirits."

"Leaving behind them only a world of shadows," muttered Vito Viti, even
that melancholy spectacle failing to draw his thoughts altogether from a
discussion that had now lasted near four-and-twenty hours. But the
moment was not propitious to argument, and the two Italians landed. This
was within half an hour after the struggle had ceased; and our
intentions are to advance the time to the moment mentioned in the
opening of this chapter.

We must give here, however, a rapid sketch of the proceedings that
narrowed down the view to that we intend shortly to lay before the
reader. As soon as there was leisure, Winchester made a survey of the
field of battle. He found many of his own men slain, and more wounded.
Of the French on the islet, quite half were hurt; but the mortal wound
received by their leader was the blow that all lamented. The surgeon
soon pronounced Raoul's case to be hopeless; and this declaration was
heard with regret even by generous enemies. The defence had been
desperate; it would have succeeded, had it been within the scope of
possibility for so few courageous men to repel double their numbers of
those who were equally brave. Both sides had fought for honor; and, when
this is the case, victory generally awaits the strongest.

As soon as it was perceived that all the ships were likely to be led
far to leeward in chase, the English officers felt the necessity of
acting for themselves. The medical