'I think the wind has just changed,' said Captain Cadurcis. 'It seems to me that we shall have a sirocco. There, it shifts again! We shall have a sirocco for certain.'
'What did you think of papa when you first saw him?' said Venetia.
'Was he the kind of person you expected to see?'
'Exactly,' said Captain Cadurcis. 'So very spiritual! Plantagenet said to me, as we went home the first night, that he looked like a golden phantom. I think him very like you, Venetia; indeed, there can be no doubt you inherited your face from your father.'
'Ah! if you had seen his portrait at Cherbury, when he was only twenty!' said Venetia. 'That was a golden phantom, or rather he looked like Hyperion. What are you staring at so, George?'
'I do not like this wind,' muttered Captain Cadurcis. 'There it goes.'
'You cannot see the wind, George?'
'Yes, I can, Venetia, and I do not like it at all. Do you see that black spot flitting like a shade over the sea? It is like the reflection of a cloud on the water; but there is no cloud. Well, that is the wind, Venetia, and a very wicked wind too.'
'How strange! Is that indeed the wind?'
'We had better return home,' said Captain Cadurcis I wish they had not gone to Lavenza.'
'But there is no danger?' said Venetia.