"Love that is a cruel martyrdom!" he interposed.
"True!" and her eyes shone with a strange brilliancy--"But love--as the world knows it--is never anything else! There, do not frown, my friend! You will never wear its crown of thorns! And you are glad I am going away?"
"Yes!--glad that you will have a change"--he said--"Your constant care and anxiety for these people whom we rescued from death must have tired you out unconsciously. You will enjoy a free flight through space,--and the ship is in perfect condition; she will carry you like an angel in the air!"
She smiled and gave him her hand.
"Good Giulio!--you are quite a romancist!--you talk of angels without believing in them!"
"I believe in them when I look at YOU!" he said, with all an Italian's impulsive gallantry.
"Very pretty of you!" and she withdrew her hand from his too fervent clasp,--"I feel sorry for myself that I cannot rightly appreciate so charming a compliment!"
"It is not a compliment"--he declared, vehemently; "It is a truth!"
Her eyes dwelt on him with a wistful kindness.
"You are what some people call 'a good fellow,' Giulio!" she said--"And you deserve to be very happy. I hope you will be so! I want you to prosper so that you may restore your grand old villa to its former beauty,--I also want you to marry--and bring up a big family"--here she laughed a little--"A family of sons and daughters who will be grateful to you, and not waste every penny you give them--though that is the modern way of sons and daughters."
She paused, smiling at his moody expression. "And you say everything is ready?--the 'White Eagle' is prepared for flight?"
"She will leave the shed at a moment's touch"--he answered--"when YOU supply the motive power!"
She nodded comprehensively, and thought a moment. "Come to me the day after to-morrow"--she said--"You will then have your orders."
"Is it to be a long flight this time?" he asked.
"Not so long as to California!" she answered--"But long enough!"
With that she left him. And he betook himself to the air-shed where the superb "White Eagle" rested all a-quiver for departure, palpitating, or so it seemed to him, with a strange eagerness for movement which struck him as unusual and "uncanny" in a mere piece of mechanism.