‘All the dreams of my life have come to pass,’ said Venetia.  ’I remember when I was at Weymouth, ill and not very happy, I used to roam about the sands, thinking of papa, and how I wished Plantagenet was like him, a great man, a great poet, whom all the world admired.  Little did I think that, before a year had passed, Plantagenet, my unknown Plantagenet, would be the admiration of England; little did I think another year would pass, and I should be living with my father and Plantagenet together, and they should be bosom friends.  You see, George, we must never despair.’

‘Under this bright sun,’ said Captain Cadurcis, ’one is naturally sanguine, but think of me alone and in gloomy England.’

‘It is indeed a bright sun,’ said Venetia; ’how wonderful to wake every morning, and be sure of meeting its beam.’

Captain Cadurcis looked around him with a sailor’s eye.  Over the Apennines, towards Genoa, there was a ridge of dark clouds piled up with such compactness, that they might have been mistaken in a hasty survey for part of the mountains themselves.

‘Bright as is the sun,’ said Captain Cadurcis, ’we may have yet a squall before night.’

‘I was delighted with Venice,’ said his companion, not noticing his observation; ’I think of all places in the world it is one which Plantagenet would most admire.  I cannot believe but that even his delicious Athens would yield to it.’

‘He did lead the oddest life at Athens you can conceive,’ said Captain Cadurcis.  ’The people did not know what to make of him.  He lived in the Latin convent, a fine building which he had almost to himself, for there are not half a dozen monks.  He used to pace up and down the terrace which he had turned into a garden, and on which he kept all sorts of strange animals.  He wrote continually there.  Indeed he did nothing but write.  His only relaxation was a daily ride to Piraeus, about five miles over the plain; he told me it was the only time in his life he was ever contented with himself except when he was at Cherbury.  He always spoke of London with disgust.’

‘Plantagenet loves retirement and a quiet life,’ said Venetia; ’but he must not be marred with vulgar sights and common-place duties.  That is the secret with him.’

‘I think the wind has just changed,’ said Captain Cadurcis.  ’It seems to me that we shall have a sirocco.  There, it shifts again!  We shall have a sirocco for certain.’

‘What did you think of papa when you first saw him?’ said Venetia.  ‘Was he the kind of person you expected to see?’

‘Exactly,’ said Captain Cadurcis.  ’So very spiritual!  Plantagenet said to me, as we went home the first night, that he looked like a golden phantom.  I think him very like you, Venetia; indeed, there can be no doubt you inherited your face from your father.’

’Ah! if you had seen his portrait at Cherbury, when he was only twenty!’ said Venetia.  ’That was a golden phantom, or rather he looked like Hyperion.  What are you staring at so, George?’