On the day appointed, an hour before sunset, I betook myself to St. Francis de la Vigne, where I kept my boat, and having set it in order and dressed myself as a boatman, I got upon the poop and held a straight course for the little door, which opened the moment I arrived.  M——­ M——­ came out wrapped in a cloak, and someone shutting the door after her she got on board my frail bark, and in a quarter of an hour we were at the casino.  M——­ M——­ made haste to go in, but I stayed to belay my boat with a lock and chain against thieves, who pass the night pleasantly by stealing whatever they can lay hands on.

Though I had rowed easily enough, I was in a bath of perspiration, which, however, by no means hindered my charming mistress from falling on my neck; the pleasure of meeting seemed to challenge her love, and, proud of what I had done, I enjoyed her transports.

Not dreaming that I should have any occasion for a change of linen, I had brought none with me, but she soon found a cure for this defect; for after having undressed me she dried me lovingly, gave me one of her smocks, and I found myself dressed to admiration.

We had been too long deprived of our amorous pleasures to think of taking supper before we had offered a plenteous sacrifice to love.  We spent two hours in the sweetest of intoxications, our bliss seeming more acute than at our first meeting.  In spite of the fire which consumed me, in spite of the ardour of my mistress, I was sufficiently master of myself to disappoint her at the critical moment, for the picture which our friend had drawn was always before my eyes.  M——­ M——­, joyous and wanton, having me for the first time in the character of boatman, augmented our delights by her amorous caprices, but it was useless for her to try to add fuel to my flame, since I loved her better than myself.

The night was short, for she was obliged to return at three in the morning, and it struck one as we sat down to table.  As the climax of ill luck a storm came on whilst we were at supper.  Our hair stood on end; our only hope was founded in the nature of these squalls, which seldom last more than an hour.  We were in hopes, also, that it would not leave behind it too strong a wind, as is sometimes the case, for though I was strong and sturdy I was far from having the skill or experience of a professional boatman.

In less than half an hour the storm became violent, one flash of lightning followed another, the thunder roared, and the wind grew to a gale.  Yet after a heavy rain, in less than an hour, the sky cleared, but there was no moon, it being the day after the Ascension.  Two o’clock stuck.  I put my head out at the window, but perceive that a contrary gale is blowing.

   ‘Ma tiranno del mar Libecchio resta.’

This Libecchio which Ariosto calls—­and with good reason—­the tyrant of the sea, is the southwesterly wind, which is commonly called ‘Garbin’ at Venice.  I said nothing, but I was frightened.  I told my sweetheart that we must needs sacrifice an hour of pleasure, since prudence would have it so.