‘You arrived here to day, Lord Cadurcis?’ said Herbert.  ‘From whence?’

‘Immediately from Naples, where we last touched,’ replied his lordship; ‘but I have been residing at Athens.’

‘I envy you,’ said Herbert.

‘It would be a fit residence for you,’ said Lord Cadurcis.  ’You were, however, in some degree, my companion, for a volume of your poems was one of the few books I had with me.  I parted with all the rest, but I retained that.  It is in my cabin, and full of my scribblement.  If you would condescend to accept it, I would offer it to you.’

Mr. Herbert and Lord Cadurcis maintained the conversation along the terrace.  Venetia, by whose side her old companion walked, was quite silent.  Once her eyes met those of Cadurcis; his expression of mingled archness and astonishment was irresistible.  His cousin and Lady Annabel carried on a more suppressed conversation, but on ordinary topics.  When they had reached the olive-grove Herbert said, ’Here lies our way homeward, my lord.  If you and your cousin will accompany us, it will delight Lady Annabel and myself.’

‘Nothing, I am sure, will give George and myself greater pleasure,’ he replied.  ’We had, indeed, no purpose when you met us but to enjoy our escape from imprisonment, little dreaming we should meet our kindest and oldest friends,’ he added.

‘Kindest and oldest friends!’ thought Herbert to himself.  ’Well, this is strange indeed.’

‘It is but a slight distance,’ said Lady Annabel, who thought it necessary to enforce the invitation.  ’We live in the valley, of which yonder hill forms a part.’

‘And there we have passed our winter and our spring,’ added Venetia, ‘almost as delightfully as you could have done at Athens.’

‘Well,’ thought Cadurcis to himself, ’I have seen many of the world’s marvels, but this day is a miracle.’

When they had proceeded through the olive-wood, and mounted the acclivity, they arrived at a path which permitted the ascent of only one person at a time.  Cadurcis was last, and followed Venetia.  Unable any longer to endure the suspense, he was rather irritated that she kept so close to her father; he himself loitered a few paces behind, and, breaking off a branch of laurel, he tossed it at her.  She looked round and smiled; he beckoned to her to fall back.  ‘Tell me, Venetia,’ he said, ‘what does all this mean?’

‘It means that we are at last all very happy,’ she replied.  ’Do you not see my father?’

’Yes; and I am very glad to see him; but this company is the very last in which I expected to have that pleasure.’

‘It is too long a story to tell now; you must imagine it.’

‘But are you glad to see me?’

‘Very.’

‘I don’t think you care for me the least.’

‘Silly Lord Cadurcis!’ she said, smiling.

’If you call me Lord Cadurcis, I shall immediately go back to the brig, and set sail this night for Athens.’