The night was as enchanting as only a night of the spring on the shores of Italy can be. Overhead, in the deep blue vault, numberless stars seemed to hang like golden cressets, raining their large lustre over that unequalled scene. Beneath the rhythmic strokes of the rowers the sea flashed into brighter phosphorescence in the shadow of the boat, and the waves rolled away in molten gold. From the near coast, as they steered northwards, the air seemed to come laden with the perfume of flowers from the gardens and blossoming trees. Countless spectators watched the gilded barque, and their torches glimmered along the crowded sands, and the music of their gay songs and serenades came to the happy voyagers. The balm and peacefulness and beauty of the night seemed to set its seal on the reunion of hearts too long divided, and for that hour of blessedness it almost seemed worth while to have lived. Acerronia, bending over the feet of the Empress as she reclined on the couch, was congratulating her with all her heart on the warmth with which she had been received, and was indulging in a hundred flattering auguries of the future. Surely Agrippina would now be restored to her full honours as Augusta! Once more she would have her home in the Palace of the Cæsars, and ride in a carriage to the capital, and be surrounded by her tall and glittering body-guard! ‘He kissed your _eyes_, Augusta,’ said Acerronia, ‘as though he would embrace your very soul.’[72] To Agrippina also at that moment ‘Hope enchanted smiled, and waved her golden hair.’ Crepereius stood near them, only joining in the conversation by an occasional word of congratulation, but enjoying with the two ladies the happy events of the day and the splendour of the balmy night.