Suddenly Geronimo rose and pointed in the distance, exclaiming, joyously,
"See, the Il Salvatore!"
Mary, glancing around, eagerly asked: "Where? Is it the vessel bearing a red cross on its flag?"
"No, Mary, it is behind the ships of war; it is that large vessel with three masts—on its flag is a picture of the Saviour: Il Salvatore."
While the gondola rapidly sped on its way, the eyes of all were fixed upon the galley, in order, if possible, to distinguish the features of those who stood on deck.
Suddenly Geronimo clapped his hands, exclaiming, "God be praised! I see my uncle."
"Which is he?" inquired Mr. Van de Werve.
The young man replied, joyously: "Do you not see standing on the forecastle five or six passengers who wear parti-colored dresses, with plumed hats? In the midst of them is a man of lofty stature, completely enveloped in a brown cloak. He has long white hair, and his silvery beard looks like snow-flakes resting on his dark mantle. That is my old uncle, Signor Deodati."
"What a superb-looking old man!" exclaimed Mary, in admiration.
"In truth," said Mr. Van de Werve, "as well as I can judge at this distance, his appearance is very striking."
"My uncle inspires respect wherever he goes," said the young man, enthusiastically. "His sixty-five years appear on his brow as an aureola of experience and wisdom; he is learned, good, and generous."