In an incredibly short space of time the boat was
ready, the Marchesa was lifted in her chair and carried to it, and all
the party were aboard. The second boat, with its crew, was left to
bring home the paraphernalia, and Ruggiero cast off the mooring and
jumped upon the stern, as the men forward dipped their oars and began to
pull out of the little sheltered bay.
There he sat again, perched in his old place behind his master, the
latter's head close to his knee, holding the brass tiller in his hand.
It would be hard to say what he felt, but it was not what he had felt
before. It was all a dream, now, the past, the present and the future.
He had told Beatrice--Donna Beatrice Granmichele, the fine lady--that he
loved her, and she had not laughed in his face, nor insulted him, nor
cried out for help. She had told him that he was brave and strong. Yet
he knew that he had put forth all his strength and summoned all his
courage in the great effort to be silent, and had failed. But that
mattered little. He had got a hundred, a thousand times more kindness
than he would have dared to hope for, if he had ever dared to think of
saying what he had really said.
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