now remained had, in its turn, been erected
upon the remnants of the Palace of Lucullus, who had located the center
of his celebrated gardens in this little island, then called _Megaris_.

The cornets of the _bersaglieri_ rejoiced the captain like the
announcement of a triumphal entry. "She's going to come! She's going to
come at any moment!..." And he would look across the double mountain of
the island of Capri, black in the distance, closing the gulf like a
promontory, and the coast of Sorrento as rectilinear as a wall. "There
she is...." Then he would lovingly follow the course of the little
steamboats plowing across the immense blue surface, opening a triangle
of foam. In some of these Freya must be coming.

The first day was golden and full of hope. The sun was sparkling in a
cloudless sky, and the gulf was foaming with bubbles of light under an
atmosphere so calm that not the slightest zephyr was rippling its
surface. The smoke plume of Vesuvius was upright and slender, expanding
upon the horizon like a pine tree of white vapor. At the foot of the
balcony the strolling musicians kept succeeding each other from time to
time, singing voluptuous barcarolles and love serenades.... And--she
did not come!

The second day was silvery and desperate. There was fog on the gulf;
the sun was no more than a reddish disk such as one sees in the
northern countries; the mountains were clothed with lead; the clouds
were hiding the cone of the volcano; the sea appeared to be made of
tin, and a chilly wind was distending sails, skirts, and overcoats,
making the people scurry along the promenade and the shore. The
musicians continued their singing but with melancholy sighs in the
shelter of a corner, to keep out of the furious blasts from the sea.
"To die.... To die for thee!" a baritone voice groaned between the
harps and violins. And--she came!

Upon learning from the waiter that the _signora_ Talberg was in her
room on the floor below, Ulysses thrilled with restlessness. What would
she say upon finding him installed in her hotel?...

The luncheon hour was at hand, and he impatiently awaited the usual
signals before going down to the dining room. First an explosion would
be heard behind the _albergo_ making the walls and roofs tremble,
swelling out into the immensity of the gulf. That was the midday
cannonade from the high castle of S. Elmo. Then cornets from the
_Castello dell' Ovo_ would respond with their joyous call to the