Standing on the height among the ruins of Tiberius’s palace, the patriarch had looked out over the waters, and predicted for the morrow the finest weather that had ever been known in that region; but in spite of this prophecy the day dawned stormily, and at breakfast time we looked out doubtfully on waves lashed by driving rain.  The entrance to the Blue Grotto, to visit which we had come to Capri, is by a semicircular opening, some three feet in width and two feet in height, and just large enough to admit a small boat.  One lies flat in the bottom of this, waits for the impulse of a beneficent wave, and is carried through the mouth of the cavern, and rescued from it in like manner by some receding billow.  When the wind is in the wrong quarter, it is impossible to enter the grot at all; and we waited till nine o’clock for the storm to abate before we ventured forth.  In the mean time one of the Danish gentlemen, who—­after assisting his companion to compel the boatmen to justice the night before—­had stayed at Capri, and had risen early to see the grotto, returned from it, and we besieged him with a hundred questions concerning it.  But he preserved the wise silence of the boy who goes in to see the six-legged calf, and comes out impervious to the curiosity of all the boys who are doubtful whether the monster is worth their money.  Our Dane would merely say that it was now possible to visit the Blue Grotto; that he had seen it; that he was glad he had seen it.  As to its blueness, Messieurs—­yes, it is blue. C’est i dire....

The ladies had been amusing themselves with a perusal of the hotel register, and the notes of admiration or disgust with which the different sojourners at the inn had filled it.  As a rule, the English people found fault with the poor little hostelry and the French people praised it.  Commander Joshing and Lieutenant Prattent, R.N., of the former nation, “were cheated by the donkey women, and thought themselves extremely fortunate to have escaped with their lives from the effects of Capri vintage.  The landlord was an old Cossack.”  On the other hand, we read, “J.  Cruttard, homme de lettres, a passe quinze jours ici, et n’a eu que des felicites du patron de cet hotel et de sa famille.”  Cheerful man of letters!  His good-natured record will keep green a name little known to literature.  Who are G. Bradshaw, Duke of New York, and Signori Jones and Andrews, Hereditary Princes of the United States?  Their patrician names followed the titles of several English nobles in the register.  But that which most interested the ladies in this record was the warning of a terrified British matron against any visit to the Blue Grotto except in the very calmest weather.  The British matron penned her caution after an all but fatal experience.  The ladies read it aloud to us, and announced that for themselves they would be contented with pictures of the Blue Grotto and our account of its marvels.