I am only rarely subject to these kinds of superstition. I do not give way to them, and the proof that I can resist them is that I said nothing to you about it. But the same vague anxiety about an unknown danger, or imminent misfortune for you or me, has pursued me until this hour. I thought I saw familiar ghosts move over those waves, who beckoned to me to go back. In the wake of the boat the golden reflections of the dying sun assumed the shape of my mother, then the features of Lucie … The spirits of my lost loves stood obstinately between us and the shore. I do not feel ill, I mistrust my imagination … and yet I am not at ease; it is not natural.”

Salvator was about to prove that this anxiety was an entirely nervous phenomenon resulting from the agitations of the journey, when a strong vibrant voice coming from behind the cottage, said “Where is he, where is he, Biffi?”

Salvator uttered a cry of joy, sprang forward on to the terrace and Karol saw him welcome in his arms a woman who effusively returned his embrace in a most sisterly manner.

They spoke to each other and questioned and answered one another with animation in a Lombard dialect which Karol could not grasp as quickly as pure Italian. The result of this exchange of rapid, contracted words was that Madame Floriani turned to the prince, held out her hand to him and without realising that he was not exactly accepting it with a good grace, pressed his cordially, telling him that he was welcome and it would give her great pleasure to receive him.

“I beg your pardon, my good Salvator,” said she, laughing, “for leaving you to cool your heels in the manor of my ancestors; but I am exposed here to the curiosity of idlers and as I always have some great plan of work in mind, I am obliged to shut myself up like a nun.”

“But the fact is that people do say that you almost took the veil as well as your vows some time ago,” said Salvator, repeatedly kissing the hand which she allowed him to retain. “It was only with fear and trembling that I dared to disturb you in your hermitage.”

“Very well, very well,” she continued “You are pleased to mock me and my beautiful plans. It is because I do not wish to receive bad counsel that I have fled from all my friends and am living in hiding. But because fortune brings you to me I have not sufficient strength yet to send you away. Come, and bring your friend with you. I shall at least have the pleasure of offering you lodgings more comfortable than the locanda at Iseo. But I see that you have not yet kissed my son. Don’t you recognise him?”

“Indeed no. I dared not recognise him,” said Salvator, turning towards a handsome boy of twelve who was frisking about and playing with a hunting dog. “How tall he has grown and how handsome he is!” And he embraced the child who did not remember his name. “And what of the other?” added Salvator, “the little girl?”

“You will see her presently, as well as her little sister and my youngest boy.”

“Four children!” cried Salvator.

“Yes, four beautiful children and all with me, in spite of anything people say. You met my father, while I was being sent for, didn’t you? You see, he watches over me here. Nobody enters without his permission Good evening, for the second time, father. Are you coming to lunch with us to-morrow?”

“I can’t say, I can’t say,” said the old man “You will have plenty of people without me.”

Madame Floriani insisted, but her father would promise nothing, and he drew her aside to ask her if she needed any fish. As she knew it was his obsession to sell her all the fish he caught and even to charge her high prices, she gave him a handsome order and left him delighted. Salvator was watching them secretly. He saw that Madame Floriani resigned herself to the old man’s oddities very philosophically and even gaily.

Night had fallen and neither Karol nor his friend (who was however quite familiar with Madame Floriani’s features) could see her face clearly. To the prince she appeared neither as majestic in figure nor elegant in her manners as could have been expected from a woman who had acted the part of great ladies and queens so well. She was rather small and inclined to be plump. Her voice was rather resonant, but it was too vibrant for the prince’s ears. If a woman had spoken in this way in a drawing room all eyes would have turned in her direction with distaste at this breach of good manners.

They crossed the park and the garden with Biffi who carried the portmanteau and they entered a large room, simple and noble in style, supported by Doric columns, and walls of white stucco. There were many lights and flowers in the four corners of the room from which sprang brilliant, slender jets of water brought from the neighbouring lake at little expense.

“Perhaps you are surprised to see so much useless light?” said Madame Floriani, observing the pleasant surprise on Salvator’s face at the sight of this beautiful drawing room. “But it is the only whim which I have retained from my days on the stage. When in solitude I like space and brilliant lights.