"The
greatest wish of my life is to see Portugal once more, to show our
country to our children," bending to kiss her tiny daughter's face.
"Then it will be granted. Prepare to start as soon as possible. Now, I
am determined to leave here. Something seems to urge me to go at
once."
Only too anxious, Lianor began her arrangements.
Savitre, who had never cared to leave her friend before, even to
become Panteleone's bride, entered into the preparations with
unconcealed eagerness.
She had faithfully promised her lover that, once in Portugal, she
would, with his father's approval, marry him.
Lianor felt no regret at leaving India, except for a loved grave--her
father's--which she had so carefully tended.
Not many days after, Manuel Tonza, his wife, children, Panteleone, and
Savitre, accompanied by several faithful servants, including Lalli and
Tolla, embarked in a fine stately ship, which was to bear them in
safety to their home.
Tonza seemed full of joy as he saw the last lines of the Indian coast
disappear. He had rarely appeared so happy since his marriage with
Lianor five years before.
For several days the good ship went steadily on her way, until one
night a terrific storm arose, and the vessel, heedless of the human
cargo it was bearing, drifted onward at the mercy of the tempest.
Pages:
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255