When Don Camillo Monforte entered the gondola, he did not take his seat
in the pavilion. With an arm leaning on the top of the canopy, and his
cloak thrown loosely over one shoulder, the young noble stood, in a
musing attitude, until his dexterous servitors had extricated the boat
from the little fleet which crowded the quay, and had urged it into open
water. This duty performed, Gino touched his scarlet cap, and looked at
his master as if to inquire the direction in which they were to proceed.
He was answered by a silent gesture that indicated the route of the
great canal.
"Thou hast an ambition, Gino, to show thy skill in the regatta?" Don
Camillo observed, when they had made a little progress. "The motive
merits success. Thou wast speaking to a stranger when I summoned thee to
the gondola?"
"I was asking the news of our Calabrian hills from one who has come into
port with his felucca, though the man took the name of San Gennaro to
witness that his former luckless voyage should be the last."
"How does he call his felucca, and what is the name of the padrone?"
"La Bella Sorrentina, commanded by a certain Stefano Milano, son of an
ancient servant of Sant' Agata. The bark is none of the worst for speed,
and it has some reputation for beauty. It ought to be of happy fortune,
too, for the good curato recommended it, with many a devout prayer, to
the Virgin and to San Francesco.
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