It might reasonably be expected, from his youth, and his gallant appearance, which one could hardly separate from ideas of manliness, that Don Rafaele could not hear the martial rolling of the drum without feeling some of those animating impulses which it was so eminently calculated to excite. But, however reasonable such an expectation might be, the issue no way bore it out. Far from inspiring him with courage, the stirring alarum, with the various and conflicting noises that ensued, struck him with a panic; and he felt more inclined to cover himself with the bedclothes, than eager for action. His excitement was so intense, that it pervaded his whole frame; and, as the din on deck continued, he trembled in every limb. He grew more composed after a while; but whether from fear, or that the excitement he sustained had affected his nerves, and so was beyond his control, he was still excessively agitated. Nevertheless, he no longer seemed disposed to remain in his berth. As the restored silence was prolonged, he planted his two hands firmly on his bed, and made an effort to rise. Just as he had raised himself up, the roar of artillery burst on his ear; and the ship, which had been sailing pretty steadily a moment previous, reeled under the shock of a dozen cannon. CHAPTER VI. How uncertain is our tenure of any one possession! We stand in the midst of accidents, their top and vane. Constantly looking forward, we yet hardly enjoy what is actually passing, and the substantial advantages which we see in perspective, and conceive ourselves almost certain to attain, often present to the grasp only unmeaning shadows. What prospect can be so distinctly apparent that we may calculate on its fulfilment with unmingled confidence? However certain it may appear at the passing moment, a few brief hours, stealing silently and unheeded by, may render it one of the most unlikely things imaginable. In that short interval, the auxiliaries on which we rely, and from which our expectations mainly spring, may be subjected to influences that will entirely change their relations, or, should they themselves remain unchanged, they may fail in their resources, or the onward progress of Providence may have operated in a hundred other ways to bring us disappointment. On the morning after Evaline de Neville had met Sir Walter Raleigh in Greenwich Park, she arose from her bed with a confident expectation that, by bringing her case under the notice of the Queen, Sir Walter would speedily release her from her present distress, and effect the liberation of her father. From what Sir Walter had said the previous night, this expectation, on the whole, was far from being unreasonable, and, though depending on various provisos, offered itself to view with the assurance of certainty. Nevertheless, one short hour had hardly elapsed ere it fell utterly to the ground.