My time being limited, I was unable to make an expedition from Sebenico, which under different circumstances I should certainly have undertaken, that is to the falls of the Kerka and the monastery above them. My friend, the Capuchin, who had travelled a good deal both in Europe and America, and had a good eye for the picturesque, told me they were well worth seeing; but like many other interesting spots down that coast, I must only hope to visit them at some future time.
At dusk we returned to the steamer, though we knew it would not leave till the following morning early, and we could have spent a most pleasant night on shore; but Sebenico shuts its gates at sunset, and then till the following sunrise no one can come in or go out, and had we attempted it we should only have lost our passage.
Having partaken of an excellent supper, I returned to the deck, where, as was my wont, I sat down beside my friend the Capuchin, who always took a cup of coffee with me though he would not consent to smoke. We chatted till very late, when he went down to his camerino, and I settled myself on deck as usual for my night's sleep. It turned out awfully hot, as the steamer remained till break of day in the harbour of Sebenico, but what must it have been in the cabin?
At the very earliest dawn we left our moorings, and steamed out of the harbour by its well guarded entrance. Just outside we passed a group of small islands, among which is established a considerable coral fishery. The coral is not however of the finest quality, mostly of the common deep red kind, and is principally sold on the spot or at the fair of Sinigaglia in the Romagna on the opposite or Italian side of the Adriatic.
The dawn was just merging into daylight, when we steamed out of that land-locked harbour. It had been stiflingly hot as long as we had lain still alongside the quay, but the moment we came out into the open sea, the
". . . . Aura messaggiera . . . .
Ad annunziar che se ne vien l'Aurora,"
came with a most refreshing breeze, so light, however, as not even to raise a "cat's paw" on the glassy waters, but still deliciously cool and invigorating.
The steward was not long manufacturing me a good cup of coffee, after which, having made myself comfortable in a capital arm-chair, I again went to sleep, not to awake until Giovanni summoned me again, "per far colazione."
In the course of the morning we reached Spalato, a beautiful and most interesting place, where an artist could with advantage spend many days. It was celebrated in ancient times for the gorgeous palace which the Emperor Diocletian built for himself after abdicating the Empire in 303 a.d., and the magnificent remains of which still form the glory of the present city. After a reign of twenty years, "Diocletian executed his memorable resolution of abdicating the Empire," and acquired the glory of giving to the world the most remarkable, if not the first, example of a resignation which has not been very frequently imitated by succeeding monarchs. Withdrawing to Salona, he passed the last nine years of his life in seclusion—the building of a palace in the neighbourhood, and the superintendence of his garden, occupying his leisure hours. The satisfaction he derived from these pursuits is sufficiently proved by his well-known answer to Maximian, when urging him to re-assume the purple, "If I could show you the cabbages I have planted with my own hands at Salona, you would no longer urge me to relinquish the enjoyment of happiness for the pursuit of power."