Then he laid the oar into the notch at his left hand, and, standing in the stern of the boat, steered and rowed at the same time--a graceful and picturesque movement, and a right Germanic ferryman's custom. Camilla sat upon a _diphros_, or Grecian folding-stool, in the bow of the boat, and looked into Athalaric's noble face. His dark hair was ruffled by the breeze, and it was pleasant to watch the lithe and graceful motions of his agile form. Both were silent. Like an arrow the light bark shot through the smooth water. Flecked and rosy cloudlets passed slowly across the sky, the faint breeze was laden with clouds of perfume from the blossoming almond-trees upon the shore, and all around was peace and harmony. At last the King broke the silence, while giving the boat a strong impulse, so that it obediently shot forwards. "Do you know of what I am thinking? How splendid it would be to steer a nation--thousands of well-loved lives--securely forward through waves and wind, to happiness and glory! But what were you thinking about, Camilla? You looked so kind, you must have had pleasant thoughts." She blushed and looked aside into the water. "Oh, speak! Be frank in this happy hour." "I was thinking," she said, her pretty head still averted, "how delightful it must be to be steered through the heaving flood of life by a faithful and beloved hand, to whose guidance one could implicitly trust." "Oh, Camilla, even a barbarian may be trusted--" "You are no barbarian! Whoever feels so tenderly, thinks so nobly, so generously controls himself, and rewards great ingratitude with kindness, is no barbarian! He is as noble a man as ever Scipio was." The King ceased to row in his delight; the boat remained motionless. "Camilla, am I dreaming? Did _you_ say that? and to me V 9 "More still, Athalaric! I beseech you to forgive that I have repulsed you so cruelly. Ah! it was from shame and fear." "Camilla, pearl of my soul----" Camilla, who had her face turned towards the shore, suddenly cried out: "What is that? They follow us. The court! the women! my mother!" It was so. Rusticiana, aroused by the Prefect's terrible warning, had sought for her daughter in the garden. She could not find her. She hurried to the Temple of Venus. In vain. Looking around, she suddenly caught sight of the two--her child, alone with Athalaric--in the boat, far out upon the sea. Greatly angered, she rushed to the marble table, where the slaves were just preparing the King's evening draught, sent them down the steps to unloose the gondola, won in this way an unobserved moment near the table, and directly afterwards descended the steps with Daphnidion--whom her angry cry had awakened--to the boat. At this moment the Prefect and his friends, whose walk had also led them to this place, approached from a thick taxus-path. Cethegus followed Rusticiana down the steps and gave her his hand to help her into the gondola.