She was quiet and even childish. Never did she utter any threats against Lord Maltravers. She loved him in a sweet, innocent way that was very affecting. In a locket, which she wore around her neck, she had a faded photograph of the handsome, bad man, who had made her the plaything of an idle hour and ruined her young life. This she would take from her bosom where she concealed it and kiss with the greatest rapture, pressing her lips to it and murmuring words of purest affection and despairing love. It was a sight to make the hardest heart feel, and bring tears to the eyes of the most callous man of the world. Even Bambino, wretch that he was, had known what it was to love, and he sighed for her misery. At length the wished-for sail hove in sight, and the Italian contrived to attract the attention of the crew, who lowered a boat to come to their rescue. He went below and roused Adéle, who was bending over the photograph of the loved one, very much as a little child plays with a pretty toy. "Come, _mio caro_," he exclaimed, "we are going on board another ship, which will take us to a great city. Put that thing away." Adéle held up the picture, while a smile overspread her countenance. "Isn't he lovely?" she asked. Bambino set his lips firmly together, while the dark eyes--peculiar to the Latin race--flashed forth their fire. "I can't say anything against him," he replied, "for I owe him much; but, _cospetto_! you and he will go to different places when you die." "I am dead. You know that," said the simple-minded girl. "But will he not come to me in time and ask my pardon? Will he not fold me in his arms as of old and call me his darling?" "Possibly." "Oh, yes," said she, as her eyes rolled in an ecstasy of unbounded affection. "It must be so. There _must_ be some recompense for the pure in heart, hereafter." Bambino was touched. He patted her beautiful hair with the air of an affectionate brother. "Would to God, my child," he said, "that I had won your love instead of the woman's who--but no matter; my hand is red with her blood." Adéle looked at him in dread surprise. "Did you kill her?" she asked. Bambino laughed, in a harsh, metallic tone. "She is dead," he replied. "Ay, and--_Corpo di Baccho_! the man is in the grave, too." "Man! what man?" inquired Adéle. "Ask me no more questions, unless you want to madden me," cried Bambino. "I thought the wound was cicatrized, but you, with your childish questions, set my blood on fire. I loved that woman." "Maltravers loved me once, yet I did not kill him when he deserted me and afterward drove me from him, when I laid my heart at his feet. How can you kill those you love?" Bambino could say no more. He led Adéle gently but firmly up the companion-ladder, and in a few minutes the boat from the steamer was alongside. They were taken off the ship. He told his story and excited much sympathy, especially when he reached the vessel, which was bound to New York.