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This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 389 pages of information about Sir John Constantine.

“Say no more,” said I, as gently as might be.  “I understand.”

“Ah, that is kind of you!” She caught at the admission eagerly. 
“It is not that I doubted; I see now that some men are not vile. 
But until I can feel it, what use is being convinced?”
She paused, “Moreover, to-night I go on a journey.”

“And I, too,” said I, meeting her eyes firmly.  “To Genoa, is it not?”

“You guessed it? . . .  But you have no right—­” she faltered.

I laughed.  “But excuse me, my wife, I have all the right in the world.  At what hour will Marc’antonio be ready with the boat?”

CHAPTER XXVIII.

GENOA.

Gobbo.  Master young gentleman, I pray you, which is the
way to Master Jew’s?

Launcelot.  Turn up on the right hand at the next turning,
but at the very next turning of all, on your
left:  marry at the very next turning, turn of no
hand, but turn down indirectly to the Jew’s
house.

Gobbo.  By God’s sonties, ’twill be a hard way to hit.”
The Merchant of Venice.

At eleven o’clock that night we four—­the Princess, Marc’antonio, Stephanu, and I—­hoisted sail and stood away from the north shore of Giraglia, carrying a fair wind with us.  Our boat had been very cunningly chosen for us by Marc’antonio out of the small flotilla which my father had hired at Cape Corso for the assault.  She was undecked, measured some eighteen feet over-all, and carried a fair-sized lateen sail; but her great merit for our purpose, lay in her looks.  The inhabitants of Cape Corso (as the reader knows) have neither the patriotism nor the prejudices of their fellow-islanders; and this (however her owner had come by her) was a boat of Genoese build.  So Marc’antonio had assured me; and my own observation confirmed it next day, as we neared the coast off Porto Fino.

We had laid this course of set purpose, intending to work up to the great harbour coastwise from the southward and enter it boldly, passing ourselves off for a crew from Porto Fino with a catch of fish for market.  The others had discarded all that was Corsican in their dress, and the Princess had ransacked the quarters of the late garrison on Giraglia to rig us out in odds and ends of Genoese costume.  For the rest we trusted to fortune; but an hour before starting I had sought out my Uncle Gervase and made him privy to the plot.  He protested, to be sure; but acquiesced in the end with a wry face when I told him that the Princess and I were determined.

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