"
Our heroine looked as directed, and saw a vessel
moving with tolerable rapidity up the river, within a
short distance from them. On its deck were a
travelling carriage and a pair of horses, and by the
latter stood a man who, by the whip in his head,
was evidently the driver. His stature was tall and
athletic; his complexion dark to near blackness; his
face was buried in whiskers; and his employer had
spoken the truth when he said he had as good an
eye as any men in America--it was large, black, and
might be piercing. But then he had but one--at
least the place where the other ought to be, was
covered by an enormous patch of green silk. This
then was Antonio. It is true, he did not resemble
Apollo, but his disguise altered him so that it was
difficult to determine. As they Moved slowly by the
vessel, the driver recognised Charles, having had an
interview with him the day before, and saluted him
with a low bow--his salutation was noticed by the
young man, who slightly touched his hat, and gave
him a familiar nod in return--Julia, unconsciously,
bent her body, and felt her cheeks glow with
confusion as she rose again. She could not muster
resolution to raise her eyes towards the sloop, but
by a kind of instinctive coquetry dragged her
companion to the other side of the boat. As soon
as she was able to recover her composure, Julia
revolved in her mind the scene which had just
occurred.
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