Then there is some bustle and confusion, as Luigione brings the papers ashore and friends crowd around the felucca in boats, asking for news and all talking at once.
"We have been in your town, Ruggiero," said one of the men, looking down into the little boat.
"I hope you gave a message from me to Don Pietro Casale," answered
Ruggiero.
"Health to us, Don Pietro is dead," said the man, "and his wife is not likely to live long either."
"Dead, eh?" cried Bastianello. "He is gone to show the saints the nose we gave him when we were boys."
"We can go back to Verbicaro when we please," observed Ruggiero with a smile.
"Lend a hand on board, will you?" said the sailor.
So Ruggiero made the boat fast with the painter and both brothers scrambled over the side of the felucca. They did not renew their conversation concerning Teresina, and an hour or two later they went up to the hotel to be in readiness for their masters, should the latter wish to go out. Ruggiero sat down on a bench in the garden, but Bastianello went into the house.
In the corridor outside the Marchesa's rooms he met Teresina, who stopped and spoke to him as she always did when she met him, for though she admired both the brothers, she liked Bastianello better than she knew—perhaps because he talked more and seemed to have a gentler temper.
"Good-day, Bastianello," she said, with a bright smile.