His hands, too, were quite cold, though it was a warm day.  He noticed the fact as he passed his thumb for the hundredth time round his neck where the hard wool scratched him.  To tell the truth he was somewhat alarmed.  He had never been ill a day in his life, had never had as much as a headache, a bad cold or a touch of fever, and he began to think that something must be wrong.  He said to himself that if such a thing happened to him again he would go to the chemist and ask for some medicine.  His strength was the chief of his few possessions, he thought, and it would be better to spend a franc at the chemist’s than to let it be endangered.  It was a serious matter.  Suppose that the young lady, instead of speaking to him about a boat, had told him to pick up the box on which he was sitting—­one of those big boxes these foreigners travel with—­and to carry it upstairs, he would have cut a poor figure just at that moment, when his heart was thumping like a flat-fish in the bottom of a boat, and his hands were trembling with cold.  If it chanced again, he would certainly go to Don Ciccio the chemist and buy a dose of something with a strong bad taste, the stronger and the worse flavoured the better, of course, as everyone knew.  Very alarming, these symptoms!

Then he fell to thinking of the young lady herself, and she seemed to rise before him, just as he had seen her a few moments earlier.  The signs of his new malady immediately grew worse again, and when it somehow struck him that he might serve her, and let Sebastiano be boatman to the Count, the pounding at his ribs became positively terrifying, and he jumped up and began to walk about.  Just then the door opened suddenly and San Miniato put out his head.

“Are you the sailor who is to get me a boat?” he asked.

“Yes, Eccellenza,” answered Ruggiero turning quickly, cap in hand.  Strange to say, at the sound of the man’s voice the alarming symptoms totally disappeared and Ruggiero was quite himself again.

He remembered also that he had been engaged for the Count, through the people of the hotel, on condition of approval, and that it would be contrary to boatman’s honour to draw back.  After all, too, women in a boat were always a nuisance at the best, and he liked the Count’s face, and decided that he was not of the type of landsmen who are frightened.  The interview did not last long.

“I shall wish to make excursions in all directions,” said San Miniato.  “I do not know anything about the sea, but I dislike people who make difficulties and talk to me of bad weather when I mean to go anywhere.  Do you understand?”

“We will try to content your excellency,” answered Ruggiero quietly.

“Good.  We shall see.”