Blanche heard not her mother’s reply, for a loud blast of wind, shaking the walls of the fishing lodge, made her start up and hurry to the window. The stars were disappearing under volumes of clouds, which this sudden wind had driven up from the horizon; extreme darkness was succeeding to light and beauty:--gloom was favourable to the views of the adventurers, and Blanche blest the darkness, even while trembling at the storm. Kara Aziek and the Duchess continued so long and so earnest in conversation, that they did not notice the watchful looks of her about whom they were talking: by degrees the wind fell, and although the stars were but faintly discernible at intervals, there was still enough light to guide experienced manners on their road over the waves. Blanche stole back to her former station, and knelt down by her mother’s couch, listening to her discourse. She had scarcely placed herself, when the sound of distant oars grew on the stillness of night. At first, her limbs lost their power, and she could not rise from her kneeling posture, but quickly recovering again, she started abruptly up, and complaining of the sensation of suffocation, opened a door leading down a slope which terminated on the sands. Having bounded away with bird-like swiftness, she turned aside among some rocks which formed a creek for the shelter of small vessels; by the dim light, she fancied that she perceived a boat afar off: her eyes remained fixed on the object--the night grew clearer, she saw more distinctly, and at length became certain that a single boat was approaching, rowed by two men. But where was the third? where was her father? it might be, that he was concealed at the bottom of the little vessel, or that Hyppolito had failed. The rowers frequently looked behind them, as if afraid of pursuit, but they made no signal to her. Blanche leaped upon a high point, and waved her handkerchief; the boatmen answered only by redoubling their exertions to make the land. They approached--they moved swifter as they advanced nearer; and the agitated girl hastening from the cliffs to the sands, eagerly rushed into the very waves; for now she beheld by the star-light, a human figure lying at the bottom of the boat. The voice of Hyppolito warned her of her danger, and the next instant some one plunged into the water, and springing to shore caught her in his arms: it was Sebastian himself. By the same impulse, both father and daughter sunk on their knees in each other’s embrace; their hearts gushed out at their eyes in silent gratitude. Don Christopher hurried to break the joyful news to her, whose patient suffering had quickened their exertions; and Hyppolito mooring his bark, flew to share in the happiness he had bestowed.