obeyed descended into it and told the oarsman to pull him around the building that was indicated on the charts as the custom-house and then into the head of the Grand Canal.
“If there's anything worth looking at, that ought to be the beginning of it,” he ruminated as he stared upward at the gilded God of Fortune that held shining sail aloft and waited for a breeze to swing it from apparent rigidity to weather-vane activity.
When the boat swung round the point the Grand Canal opened up its winding vista and evoked from Captain Jimmy a burst of admiration. Gondolas moved here and there with the gondoliers swaying their bodies in that rythmic stroke that is neither rowing nor sculling, and the lights of the Regina Palace Hotel and its brilliant palm-bordered terrace shone before him in splendor like a beacon of amusement. In front of it a big boat with swaying Japanese lanterns suspended from two stubby masts held a band of peregrinating troubadours who sang one of the old boat songs, that, though hackneyed, took on new fervor from surroundings.
“We'll stop at that landing over there where the lights are,” the captain said, gesturing with his hand, and the sailor made his way slowly across and into the stream until nearly abreast the hotel, when he suggested that perhaps they had better make the gondola landing alongside where a score of the Venetian craft awaited trade.
“You can come back here for me at No!—can't tell how long I'll be. You can go back to the ship and I'll take one of these gondolas when I come off,” said the captain and had turned away before the man's “Aye, aye, sir,” had reached his ears.
He hesitated for a moment, and under the landing light looked down at his clothing as if uncertain whether it were befitting a visit to the hotel terrace, mentally decided that inasmuch as it was not a uniform and was in fair condition it might do, peered around the corner to discover if any of the loungers were in negligee garb, saw that they were, and sauntered slowly toward the narrow terrace entrance that was railed off from the water with a marble balustrade. He made his way unobtrusively to a table somewhat in the rear, seated himself and ordered one of the long, iced drinks and found time to eye those around him. For the most part they appeared to be of the more fortunate class of travelers rather than of the “tourist” type, persons with sufficient means to move leisurely from place to place, with neither need nor desire for ostentation by which to attract attention to themselves, and neither too boisterous nor too silent. A well-bred, well-to-do crowd, the captain decided, and one of which it was pleasant to be a part. Behind him he heard the musical chattering of an Italian party and, having well mastered that tongue himself, was somewhat amused by their comments upon the song just concluded. An English clergyman was gravely discussing something, and at a near-by table, alone, sat an attractive young woman of the unmistakable American type, who now and then glanced at her tiny wrist watch and frowned as if impatient because some expected one was late.
Captain Jimmy's attention was distracted by the voice of one of the hotel concierges insisting upon the serenaders' boat pulling ahead to make room at the clean, white-marble landing for an arrival. The man was punctuating his remarks with certain Italian expressions that betokened much impatience. These evoked able, prompt, and vociferous retorts from the boatman, much to Captain Jimmy's amusement, and then he peered around one of the potted palms and could well understand why this arrival, at least, should command attention. Out in the canal an exquisite motor boat, perfectly fitted and electric lighted, was impatiently making its way inward. A girl, white clad, and as immaculate as her boat, stood swaying to the slight motion as if accustomed to progress by sea and almost before the boat had been caught by the waiting boat hooks leaped gracefully to the steps and tripped upward. The captain gasped with inward delight and felt that he was not alone in admiration. He mentally pictured a very modern sea nymph, alive and glowing with health coming to a beach; a nymph with hair that was of a striking auburn; blue-gray eyes with long lashes; a finely modeled face, and lips that, smiling, displayed even teeth, and with a figure that suggested the perfection attained only by the very modern young American girl who is given to athletic sports. She swept the terrace with a glance of perfect composure and seemed heedless of the looks of admiration which her presence had caused, quite as if she were entirely inured to being stared at; then moved forward to enter the hotel by
