Genoa. By degrees the coast of Sestri rose like a sweet creation of
enchantment from the silver bosom of the deep. I behold the line of
villages and palaces studding its borders. My eye reverted to a
well-known point, and at length, from the confusion of distant objects,
it singled out the villa which contained Bianca. It was a mere speck in
the landscape, but glimmering from afar, the polar star of my heart.

Again I gazed at it for a livelong summer's day; but oh how different
the emotions between departure and return. It now kept growing and
growing, instead of lessening on my sight. My heart seemed to dilate
with it. I looked at it through a telescope. I gradually defined one
feature after another. The balconies of the central saloon where first
I met Bianca beneath its roof; the terrace where we so often had passed
the delightful summer evenings; the awning that shaded her chamber
window--I almost fancied I saw her form beneath it. Could she but know
her lover was in the bark whose white sail now gleamed on the sunny
bosom of the sea! My fond impatience increased as we neared the coast.
The ship seemed to lag lazily over the billows; I could almost have
sprung into the sea and swam to the desired shore.

The shadows of evening gradually shrouded the scene, but the moon arose
in all her fullness and beauty and shed the tender light so dear to
lovers, over the romantic coast of Sestri. My whole soul was bathed in
unutterable tenderness. I anticipated the heavenly evenings I should
pass in wandering with Bianca by the light of that blessed moon.

It was late at night before we entered the harbor. As early next
morning as I could get released from the formalities of landing I threw
myself on horseback and hastened to the villa. As I galloped round the
rocky promontory on which stands the Faro, and saw the coast of Sestri