"I loved her from my boyhood; she to me Was as a fairy city of the heart, Rising like water-columns from the sea, Of joy the sojourn and of wealth the mart."
One by one, moreover, there came before me still more convincing evidence that this casual analogy had in it a deeper significance, that here the Queen of the Adriatic was indeed resuscitated and the Venetian Republic born to a sublimer destiny. Surely the same indomitable spirit, the same high courage, that had reared that wondrous city out of the sea, was here before me, piling story upon story, pinnacle beyond pinnacle, till our old-world hearts sickened and our unaccustomed brains grew dizzy at the sight.
For a time--I know not how long--I stood with my hand on the rail, looking out upon that vision from the Kills. I heard Mr. Carville's voice behind me, and I turned.
"What do you think, sir?" he said, and waved his hand.
"You are right," I replied in a low tone. "You are certainly right. As for your _San Giorgio_," I smiled, "I'm afraid, Mr. Carville, you are a cleverer man than I thought you!"
"Come down and have a smoke," he said. "I've some letters to see to."
We descended the companion-way and crossed a large cabin with berths all round. Mr. Carville selected a Yale key from his bunch and opened his door. A young man in a soiled serge suit came out of the next room with some letters.
"Ah!" said Mr. Carville, hanging up his Derby hat. "How's things, mister?" and he took the letters.
The young man addressed as mister made several incoherent remarks of a technical nature, and with a glance in my direction withdrew.
"Sit down," said Mr. Carville, shutting the door. "You'll excuse me for a minute?"
I sat down on a red plush settee while my host settled into a wicker easy chair by a small desk. The room by our computation would be small, yet I perceived that Mr. Carville had within reach of his hand almost every convenience of civilization. At his elbow were a telephone and a speaking tube; just above him an electric fan. Electric lights were placed all over the room. His bed lay below the port-holes and a wash-basin of polished mahogany was folded up beside the bed. On the table were cigars and whisky. And between the bed and the wardrobe, on four shelves, were ranged some two hundred volumes; even for a landsman a respectable library.