At noon, when at length I roused myself, we were no longer upon the sea. We swept on tranquilly between banks more picturesque, more glorious, more laden with spells for me, than any haven I had fortified with Spanish castles. Castles there were too, or what I took for castles,--silvery gray amidst leafless trees, and sometimes softest pine woods with their clinging mist. Then came shining country, where the sky met the sun-bright slopes, and then a quiet sail at rest in the tiny harbor. But an hour or two brought me to the idea of cities, though even they were as cities in a dream. And yet this was not the Rhine; but I made sure it was so, having forgotten Clo's geography lessons, and that there could be any other river in Germany,--so that when Santonio told me its real name I was very angry at it. After I had wearied myself with gazing, he drew me back to my seat, and began to speak more consecutively than he had done yet. "Now, sir," said he, "do you see that castle?" pointing to something in the prospect which may or may not have been a castle, but which I immediately realized as one. "You are to be shut up there. Really and seriously, you have more faith than any one I ever had the honor of introducing yet, under any circumstances whatever. Pray don't you feel any curiosity about your destination?" "Yes, sir, plenty; but I forgot what I was going for." "And where you were going to?" "Sir, I did not know where. I thought you would tell me when you liked." "I don't know myself, but I daresay we shall fall in with your favorite 'Chevalier.'" "My favorite who, sir?" "The gentleman who enslaved you at the performance of the 'Messiah,' in your part of the world." "Oh, sir! what can I ever say to you? I cannot bear it." "Cannot bear what? Nay, you must not expect too much of him now you know who he is. He is merely a very clever composer." "Oh, sir! how did you ever find out?" "By writing to Milans-André,--another idol for you, by the way." "Oh! I know all about Milans-André." "Indeed! and pray what is all about him?" "I know he plays wonderfully, and fills a large theatre with one pianoforte. Stop! He has a handsome face and long arms,--rather too long for his body. He is very--let me see--something, but not something else; very famous, but not beloved." "Who told you that? A most coherent description, as it happens." "Miss Lawrence." "Miss Lawrence is a blab. So you have no curiosity to learn your fate?" "I know _that_; but I should like to know where I am going." "To an old gentleman in a hollow cave." "I wish I were, and then perhaps he would teach me to make gold." "That is like a Jew, fie! But the fiddle has made gold." "Why like a Jew? Because they are rich,--Jews, I mean?" "Richer generally than most folks, but not all either." "Oh, sir! I did not mean money." But as I looked at him, I felt he would not, could not, understand what I meant, so I returned to the former charge.