"Haven't the least idea," replied Angus, whose historical knowledge was of the vaguest description. "Napoleon, you know, I think he upset the apple-cart--turned them out, I mean. You see, Miss Sheldon, I'm like your verger--I know a stereotyped story, but if you ask me anything beyond I'm up a tree."
"You're a very honest guide, at all events," said Victoria with a smile. "What is that tower on the hill?"
"Oh, the castle of Baradello."
"And who was he?"
"Some ancient Johnnie, I believe," returned the young man carelessly, "a duke or a pirate, or a picture gallery, I forget which."
"Your information is most accurate," said Miss Sheldon gravely, putting up a large red sunshade, which cast a rosy reflection on her piquant face, "you must study Baedeker very closely."
Macjean laughed.
"How severe you are," he replied lightly, "but I've got such a beastly memory. It's like a sieve--but, I say, hadn't we better wake up Mrs. Trubbles? Here's Como--dirty place, isn't it?"
"Rather dingy," assented Victoria, surveying the untidy-looking town with its picturesque red roofs, above which arose the great Duomo like a great bubble. "What do you think, Mrs. Trubbles?"
"Eh? what, my dear?" said that lady, whom the stoppage of the steamer had aroused from a very comfortable slumber. "Very nice indeed. Like a picture I've got over the sideboard in the dining-room--but, dear me, how dirty the streets are! I'm afraid they haven't got a Board of Works. What does this man say?--Bill something--who is he talking to?"