Next morning, Fernando rose early and, after breakfast, went out alone
to look about the village. It was located in a picturesque and beautiful
spot. On the East was the broad bay and sea. On the West were undulating
hills covered with umbrageous forests. To the South were some
promontories and romantic headlands, against which the restless waters
lashed themselves into foam. On a hill about a fourth of a mile from the
village, was a large, elegant mansion built of granite, looking like a
fairy castle in the distance. A broad carriage-drive, leading through an
avenue of chestnuts, led up to the great front gate. The mansion was
almost strong enough for a fort and was surrounded by a stone wall five
feet high, with an iron picket fence on top of this.

"Who lives in the great house on the hill?" Fernando asked a man.

"Old Captain Lane."

"Captain Lane. I have heard of him. Has he a daughter?"

"Yes, Morgianna."

"It's the same," he thought, as he wandered away to the beach. "What
strange providence has brought me here?" Fernando's regrets were in a
moment changed to rejoicing. He was glad he had quarrelled with the
lieutenant and had been driven away to Mariana.

He went to the tavern and informed Sukey of his discovery and said:

"I am going to contrive in some way to speak with her again."

"Well, don't take that plaguey Irishman in the game, Fernando," said