This afternoon at four the injured lady departed on a tour in Miss Palett's gondola. Miss Palett is a water-colourist who has lived in Venice for five years and speaks the language "like a native."
(You are familiar with the phrase, and perhaps familiar, too, with the native like whom they speak.)
Returning after tea, Salemina was observed to radiate a kind of subdued triumph, which proved on investigation to be due to the fact that she had met the comandante of the offending ship and that he had gallantly promised to remove it without delay. I cannot help feeling that the proper time for departure had come; but this destroys the story and robs the comandante of his reputation for chivalry.
As Miss Palett's gondola neared the grain-ship, Salemina, it seems, spied the commanding officer pacing the deck.
"See," she said to her companion, "there is a gang-plank from the side of the ship to that small flat-boat. We could perfectly well step from our gondola to the flat-boat and then go up and ask politely if we may be allowed to examine the interesting grain-ship. While you are interviewing the first officer about the foreign countries he has seen, I will ask the comandante if he will kindly tie his boat a little farther down on the island. No, that won't do, for he may not speak English; we should have an awkward scene, and I should defeat my own purposes. You are so fluent in Italian, suppose you call upon him with my card and let me stay in the gondola."
"What shall I say to the man?" objected Miss Palett.
"Oh, there's plenty to say," returned Salemina. "Tell him that Penelope and I came over from the hotel on the Grand Canal only that we might have perfect quiet. Tell him that if I had not unpacked my largest trunk, I should not stay an instant longer.