"Ah, your countrymen never confess to a defeat. But tell me, is not England a triangle in shape?"
"It is true."
"So I have been told. Now how long is it since she has been of that form?"
Not being able to give any reply to this difficult query, he enlightened my ignorance.
"I have been told that when Buonaparte made an alliance with the Russians and the Italians, he beat England, and each of the three powers took from her a slice—thus leaving her triangular in shape. Is it not so?"
While he spoke he drew an imaginary diagram in the air with his sabre, illustrative of this unfortunate episode in our history. Our friend was utterly unaware that England was surrounded by the seas. His idea was that our empire consisted of an extensive region bordering on Russia, of which India was a province.
He was very anxious to learn if there were Sclavs in England; whether Queen Victoria was a Sclav; whether the English did not assume a blackish-brown complexion in the winter, in consequence of the perpetual fog. I tried to enlighten him on some of these matters, but I do not think he placed any credence in a word I said, though he was too polite to exhibit his incredulity.
With the assistance of the donkey-engine we brought up alongside the quay of Sebenico, and there remained for about half-an-hour. I find in my diary this one note: "Sebenico does not smell nice." This was a first impression.
On my return journey I visited this town, and well worthy of a visit it is.
It is built on the slope of a steep mountain, and rises from the water's edge in an amphitheatre of quaint old buildings, a colossal Venetian fortress dominating all. The approach to it from the sea is remarkable. A labyrinth of narrow channels between rocky islands affords a difficult access to the shipping.