The Rising Storm

the sailings of ships, wind and weather. So, when the

27th arrived, he was much relieved by the thought that they would soon be on their way again.

Quetzal had spent most of his time in Marseilles exploring the city with Hernando, and had thoroughly enjoyed himself; but the memories of the length, discomfort and squalor of his Atlantic crossing three years earlier now made him most averse to going aboard a ship. However, Isabella gently overcame his fears and they slept aboard the barque that night; then early on the morning of the 28th she stood out from the harbour towards the famous prison island of Chateau d'If. Their passage proved uneventful; the sea was kind and the winds fairly favourable, so they dropped anchor under the picturesque Fortezza Vecchia, in the harbour of Leghorn, on the afternoon of the 30th.

Neither Roger nor Isabella had ever before visited Italy, and on landing they were immediately struck by the strong contrast made by both the buildings and the people with those of the port from which they had sailed. Marseilles boasted few ancient monuments or examples of fine architecture, having grown up higgledy-piggledy; whereas Leghorn owed its expansion into a city very largely to the wealth and admirable taste of the Medici, so many of its mansions and churches possessed the serene elegance of the great Florentine builders. And, where the great majority of the inhabitants of the French port had been slatternly, ill-clad and depressed-looking, those of the Tuscan were far cleaner, better clothed and going about their business with an air of cheerful contentment. -

Roger took rooms for the party at a hostelry near the cathedral, the. fine facade of which had been designed by Inigo Jones, while he was studying architecture in Italy before using his genius to incorporate many elegancies of the Florentine style into the innumerable buildings with which he later beautified England. As the lovers were anxious to see something of the city, but could not linger more than a night there, they left Maria and Pedro to unpack, and hired a carozza with a French-speaking cicerone to take them and Quetzal for a drive.

The old town was pentagonal in shape, being entirely surrounded by broad canals, and set in a fertile tract of land that rose gradually to a range of hills dotted with white villas and farmhouses. In the gentle light of the summer evening it provided a scene of peace and prosperity; again in strong contrast to the barren poverty-ridden country outside Marseilles.

Roger remarked that many of the people they passed had a more oriental type of countenance than he had expected to find in Italians, and their guide told them the reason for this. In the sixteenth century Ferdinand de Medici had invited men of all nations to settle and trade in the city, and in addition to immigrants from all parts of Europe considerable numbers of Moorish, Hebrew, Turkish, Armenian and

Persian families had established themselves there. Moreover, as for just on a century Leghorn had been a Free City, with its neutrality guaranteed by the leading European powers, these little minorities had never been oppressed but encouraged to intermarry. He also told them with pride that all citizens of Leghorn enjoyed complete religious toleration; then took them to see the two-hundred-year-old Jewish synagogue and the big Protestant cemetery, in which Tobias Smollett had been buried eighteen years earlier.

That night, while still breathing the perfume from Isabella's last warm embrace, and with the knowledge that an English church and clergyman were within a stone's throw of his bedroom, Roger was sorely tempted to take advantage of her willingness for them to get married immediately. But it was that day only a fortnight since the Senora Poeblar's death, and with the memory of the old lady's plea that Isabella should be given time for the possible cooling of her ardour he determined to restrain his impatience.

Nevertheless, he was up by dawn next morning and, soon after, down at the docks making enquiries about a ship to England. A British vessel was sailing in three days' time, but he knew that it would be impossible for him to get to Florence, execute his mission and return in less than five days at the least. No other ship was sailing direct till the middle of the month, but a Genoese merchantman was leaving for India on the 7th, and would be calling at Gibraltar, from which it would be easy to pick up another ship en route for London; so he booked passages in her and hurried back to tell Isabella.

When he had done so he added: 'Loath as I should be to leave you even for an hour, do you not think it would be wisest if I proceeded to Florence on my own ?'

'Why so ?' she cried, her big eyes opening wide with sudden alarm.

'On account of your aunt, the Contessa Frescobaldi,' he replied. 'You will recall, my love, that the day of bur betrothal you spoke of her, and said that should she learn of your presence in Florence'

'Why should she learn of it?' Isabella interrupted. 'We disposed of that possibility by agreeing that I should change my name; and I can trust my servants not to give away that I have done so.'

'All the same,' Roger argued, 'the very thought that you might be torn from me fills my heart with such sick dread that I am opposed to taking the smallest risk of it.'

She laughed, threw an arm round his neck and kissed him on the cheek. 'Then you must love me very much. How wonderful! And how fortunate I am! But have no fear. I will remain within doors all the time we are in Firenze, or wear a mask when I go out. Such precautions will make my discovery next to impossible.'

He still looked dubious, and persisted. 'I agree that the measures you propose should afford you full security, yet all the same I would be happier in my mind if you remained here. I could not have brought myself to leave you in a place so prone to disturbances as Marseilles, but here in Leghorn all is quiet and orderly. Besides, I should not be absent long. Alone I could ride to Florence and back in two days, whereas by coach it would take us four. The Genoese ship sails on the 7th, so we have only seven clear days, and should I find difficulty in gaining access to His Highness's presence, those two days saved might make the difference between our getting our ship and missing it.'

'Ah!' she exclaimed. 'You contradict yourself, my love. First you say you would not be absent long, then that you may be detained in Florence some days before you can deliver the letter. No! No! If need be we will get a later ship; but I cannot bear to be separated from you. I insist that you take me with you.'

'Then I will do so gladly,' Roger smiled; but, although he gave in gracefully, he was still troubled by lingering doubts as to the wisdom of the decision.

Nine o'clock saw Isabella's coach upon the road again; and, as the mountains behind Leghorn denied the port any direct route inland, it was carrying them north-west towards Pisa. They ate 'their midday meal in the ancient University city, under the vine-covered pergola of a little restaurant hard by the famous leaning tower; then in the after­noon drove on to Pontailera, where they spent the night.

The inn in this little market town proved as primitive as many that they had lodged at in France; but it had a far more cheerful atmosphere, and they were served with willingness and despatch. Roger had noticed, too, throughout the day, that die country-folk seemed not only of a different race but an altogether higher type than the French peasant. In France the round-shouldered, ageless creatures who worked in the fields were scarcely to be dignified by the name of women; but the olive-skinned Tuscans were sturdy, full-bosomed wenches wearing gaily coloured scarves, many of them having lustrous, thick black hair, fine eyes and strong white teeth which gave them a Junoesque beauty.

Had it not been for his eagerness to get home as soon as possible in order to marry Isabella, he would have been greatly tempted to prolong his visit to Italy. His love of travel was bound up with the fascination that history and art had always held for him, and he knew that Italy had more to offer in that way than any other country in Europe. Already, merely passing through two ancient cities had whetted his appetite for more and, added to that, he found the blue skies, smiling landscapes and cheerful people all most congenial to his sunny nature.

Next day they continued on their way through the plain of Tuscany. The roads in many places were avenues of pollarded trees, up which vines had been trained and gracefully festooned in garlands from one to another. Beyond them lay big plantations of olive trees, between which, strange as it seemed to English eyes, wheat was growing; while along other stretches girls in large, floppy straw hats were tending flocks of sheep for the woollen industry that had made Tuscany rich long before fine cloth was woven in England.

Late that afternoon they entered Florence, and struck as Roger had been by the architectural gems of Leghorn and Pisa he marvelled far more at those of the city on the Arno. Even on the outskirts hardly a new building was to be seen and most of the larger ones were from three to four hundred years old. On both sides of the river stood scores of noble mansions, their poems in carved stone vying with one another, and each possessed of an individual dignity; while a glance down every side street they passed provided a glimpse of new beauties in towers, churches and palazzos.

At length they came to the Ponta della Santa Trinita, said to be the loveliest bridge