Ruggiero was sitting alone on one of the stone pillars on the little pier, gazing at the sea, or rather, at a vessel far away towards Ischia, running down the bay with every stitch of canvas set from her jibs to her royals.  He looked round as Bastianello came up to him.

“Ruggiero,” said the latter in a quiet tone.  “If you want to kill me, you may, for I have betrayed you.”

Ruggiero stared at him, to see whether he were in earnest or joking.

“Betrayed me?  I do not understand what you say.  How could you betray me?”

“As you shall know.  Now listen.  We were talking about Teresina to-day, you and I. Then I said to myself, ’I love Teresina and Ruggiero loves her, but Ruggiero is first.  I will go to Teresina and ask her if she will marry him, and if she will, it is well.  But if she will not, I will ask Ruggiero if I may court her for myself.’  And so I did.  And she will tell you the truth, and I spoke well for you.  But she said she never loved you.  And then, I do not know how it was, but we found out that we loved each other and we said so.  And that is the truth.  So you had better get a pig of iron from the ballast and knock me on the head, for I have betrayed my brother and I do not want to live any more, and I shall say nothing.”

Then Ruggiero who had not laughed much for some time, felt that his mouth was twitching raider his yellow beard, and presently his great shoulders began to move, and his chest heaved, and his handsome head went back, and at last it came out, a mighty peal of Homeric laughter that echoed and rolled down the pier and rang clear and full, up to the Marchesa’s terrace.  And it chanced that Beatrice was there, and she looked down and saw that it was Ruggiero.  Then she sighed and drew back.

But Bastianello did not understand, and when the laugh subsided at last, he said so.

“I laughed—­yes.  I could not help it.  But you are a good brother, and very honest, and when you want to marry Teresina, you may have my savings, and I do not care to be paid back.”

“But I do not understand,” repeated Bastianello, in the greatest bewilderment.  “You loved her so—­”

“Teresina?  No.  I never loved Teresina, but I never knew you did, or I would not have let you believe it.  It is much more I who have cheated you, Bastianello, and when you and Teresina are married I will give you half my earnings, just as I now put them in the bank.”

“God be blessed!” exclaimed Bastianello, touching his cap, and staring at the same vessel that had attracted Ruggiero’s attention.

“She carries royal studding-sails,” observed Ruggiero.  “You do not often see that in our part of the world.”

“That is true,” said Bastianello.  “But I was not thinking of her, when I looked.  And I thank you for what you say, Ruggiero, and with my heart.  And that is enough, because it seems that we know each other.”

“We have been in the same crew once or twice,” said Ruggiero.