They passed that night on the sea instead of at the hotel at Salerno. But they did not have much sleep. Their wonderful adventure formed the theme of discussion all night long. And at last the only conclusion which they could come to was this, that the red-shirted strangers had been mistaken for Garibaldini; that Obed Chute had been accepted as Garibaldi himself; and, finally, that the subjects of the king of Naples, and his soldiers also, were in a fearful state of disaffection. Not long after, when Garibaldi himself passed through this very town, the result confirmed the conjectures of these Americans. CHAPTER XLII. ANOTHER REVELATION. Time passed on, and Zillah once more regained something like her old spring and elasticity; yet the sadness of her situation was no way relaxed. In addition to the griefs of the past, there now arose the problem of the future. What was she to do? Was she to go on thus forever with these kind friends? or was she to leave them? The subject was a painful and a perplexing one, and always brought before her the utter loneliness of her position with the most distressing distinctness. Generally she fought against such feelings, and tried to dismiss such thoughts, but it was difficult to drive them from her mind. At length it happened that all her funds were exhausted, and she felt the need of a fresh supply. So she conferred with Obed Chute, and told him the name of her London bankers, after which he drew out a check for her for a hundred pounds, which she signed. The draft was then forwarded. A fortnight passed away. It was during this interval that Obed had his famous Salerno expedition, which he narrated to Zillah on his return, to her immense delight. Never in his life had Obed taken such pleasure in telling a story as on this occasion. Zillah's eager interest, her animated face, her sparkling eyes, all encouraged him to hope that there was yet some spirit left in her in spite of her sorrows; and at length, at the narration of the reception of the Neapolitan's order to surrender, Zillah burst into a fit of laughter that was childish in its abandon and heartiness. About a week or ten days after this, Obed came home one day with a very serious face. Zillah noticed it at once, and asked him anxiously if any thing had happened. "My poor child," said he, "I'm afraid that there is more trouble in store for you. I feared as much some time ago, but I had to wait to see if my fears were true." Zillah regarded him fearfully, not knowing what to think of such an ominous beginning. Her heart told her that it had some reference to Hilda. Had he found out any thing about her? Was she ill? Was she dying? These were her thoughts, but she dared not put them into words.