"About ten years, I should think," said Julius gravely. It seemed an endless time.
"Is it not strange?—and then, that I should dream it all again—it is so funny. Why should you have dropped me? It would have been so easy to carry me into the boat, and yet you seemed to stumble on purpose, and we both fell in and were drowned. Is it not very odd?"
She seemed to have settled herself now, for the remainder of the journey; the sun had risen quickly over the land while they were talking, and she put up a parasol which lay on the opposite seat. She did it unconsciously, not realising that she had not brought one with her, but when she held it up, she looked at the handle and saw that it was not one of her own. Then she remembered.
"Did you get it for me?" she asked, smiling.
"Yes," said Julius; "I knew you would want it, so I sent out for it last night."
"A puggia!" shouted one of the men from behind the sail.
Julius put the helm up accordingly, and, as the boat fell off a little, a big fishing smack ran across her bows.
A dozen rough fellows were lounging about in their woollen caps and dirty shirts. They laughed gayly at the crazy foreigners as they went by, and some of them waved their caps.
"Buon viaggio, eccellenza!" they shouted. Julius waved his hand in answer to the greeting. Leonora was pleased.
"At all events," said she, "some one has wished us a pleasant journey. It was sweet of you to get the parasol, dear."