moon was floating behind her in the sky. And before us from east to west stretched the many-tinted sea all dotted with sailing-boats.
"To the eastward, of course, these boats were grey and very minute and clear, but to the westward they were little boats of gold—shining gold—almost like flames. And just below us was a rock with an arch worn through it. The blue sea-water broke to green and foam all round the rock, and a galley came gliding out of the arch."
"I know that rock," I said. "I was nearly drowned there. It is called the Faraglioni."
"Faraglioni? Yes, she called it that," answered the man with the white face. "There was some story—but that———"
He put his hand to his forehead again. "No," he said, "I forget that story.
"Well, that is the first thing I remember, the first dream I had, that shaded room and the beautiful air and sky and that dear lady of mine, with her shining arms and her graceful robe, and how we sat and talked in half whispers to one another. We talked in whispers, not because there was any one to hear, but because there was still such a freshness of mind between us that our thoughts were a little frightened, I think, to find themselves at last in words. And so they went softly.
"Presently we were hungry, and we went from our apartment, going by a strange passage with a moving floor, until we came to the great breakfast-room—there was a fountain and music. A pleasant and joyful place it was, with its sunlight and splashing, and
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