What castles in the air I built as I stood rejoicing in the morning light and my newly acquired liberty--what dreams of perfect happiness flitted radiantly before my fancy! Nina and I would love each other more fondly than before, I thought--our separation had been brief, but terrible--and the idea of what it might have been would endear us to one another with tenfold fervor. And little Stella! Why--this very evening I would swing her again under the orange boughs and listen to her sweet shrill laughter! This very evening I would clasp Guido's hand in a gladness too great for words! This very night my wife's fair head would lie pillowed on my breast in an ecstatic silence broken only by the music of kisses. Ah! my brain grew dizzy with the joyful visions that crowded thickly and dazzlingly upon me! The sun had risen--his long straight beams, like golden spears, touched the tops of the green trees, and roused little flashes as of red and blue fire on the shining surface of the bay. I heard the rippling of water and the measured soft dash of oars; and somewhere from a distant boat the mellifluous voice of a sailor sung a verse of the popular ritornello-"Sciore d'amenta Sta parolella mia tieul' ammento Zompa llari llira! Sciore limone! Le voglio fa mori de passione Zompa llari llira!" [Footnote: Neapolitan dialect] I smiled--"Mori de passione!" Nina and I would know the meaning of those sweet words when the moon rose and the nightingales sung their love-songs to the dreaming flowers! Full of these happy fancies, I inhaled the pure morning air for some minutes, and then re-entered the vault.