As soon as he had finished, the captain said:
"We, too, have a story like that, and, on the whole, ours is a much prettier one; for it was the man who swam across the Straits of the Dardanelles to meet the girl he loved, and, on a stormy night, he was drowned."
"Only ours is a true story; you yourself have seen, just now, the hard-hearted brothers rowing in the dark."
"Ours is also true."
"And when did it happen?"
"More than a thousand years ago, when we Greeks were the masters of all the world."
The Spera in Dio, having met with contrary winds and a storm in the rough sea of the Quarnero, had been obliged to cruise about and shift her sails every now and then, thus losing a great deal of time, and she only reached Trieste after a week's delay. The caique instead had a steady, strong wind, and less than twenty-four hours after they left Ragusa they cast their anchor in front of the white walls of Zara.
To the pobratim's regret the boat was only to remain there two or three days at most, just time enough to take some bales of hides, and then set sail for Trieste; so, although they were so near Nona, it was impossible for them to go and pay a visit to Ivanka. The two young sailors had, however, no need of going to Nona to see their friends, for no sooner had the ship dropped her anchor than Giulianic himself came on board, for he was the Sciot merchant about whom Captain Panajotti had often spoken to them, and who was to give them the extra cargo.
"What! you here?" said Giulianic, opening his eyes with astonishment. "Well, this is an unexpected pleasure; but I thought you were in Trieste." Then, turning to Milenko, he added: "I had a letter from your father only a few days ago informing me that your ship would be there now. You have not been shipwrecked, I hope?"
"No, no," replied Uros, at once; "we were detained at Ragusa; but we are on our way to Trieste, aren't we, captain?"