"Silly thing!" returned the granny. "Priests they have in plenty--and the most beautiful of churches, and a hermit too, which is more than we have. But there lives a great signora, who once lived here; she was so very ill! Many's the time our padre had to go and take the Most Holy to her, when they thought she could not live the night. But with the Blessed Virgin's help she got strong and well, and was able to bathe every day in the sea. When she went away, she left a fine heap of ducats behind her for our church, and for the poor; and she would not go, they say, until our padre promised to go and see her over there, that she might confess to him as before. It is quite wonderful, the store she lays by him! Indeed, and we have cause to bless ourselves for having a curato who has gifts enough for an archbishop, and is in such request with all the great folks. The Madonna be with him!" she cried, and waved her hand again, as the boat was about to put from shore. "Are we to have fair weather, my son?" inquired the little priest, with an anxious look toward Naples. "The sun is not yet up," the young man answered; "when he comes, he will easily do for that small trifle of mist." "Off with you, then! that we may arrive before the heat." Antonio was just reaching for his long oar to shove away the boat, when suddenly he paused, and fixed his eyes upon the summit of the steep path that leads down from Sorrento to the water. A tall and slender girlish figure had become visible upon the heights, and was now hastily stepping down the stones, waving her handkerchief She had a small bundle under her arm, and her dress was mean and poor. Yet she had a distinguished if somewhat savage way of throwing back her head, and the dark tress wreathed around it was like a diadem. "What have we to wait for?" inquired the curato. "There is some one coming who wants to go to Capri--with your permission, padre. We shall not go a whit the slower. It is a slight young thing, but just eighteen." At that moment the young girl appeared from behind the wall that bounds the winding path. "Laurella!" cried the priest; "and what has she to do in Capri?" Antonio shrugged his shoulders. She came up with hasty steps, her eyes fixed straight before her. "Ha! l'Arrabiata! good-morning!" shouted one or two of the young boatmen. But for the curato's presence, they might have added more; the look of mute defiance with which the young girl received their welcome appeared to tempt the more mischievous among them. "Good-day, Laurella!" now said the priest; "how are you? Are you coming with us to Capri?" "If I may, padre." "Ask Antonio there; the boat is his. Every man is master of his own, I say, as God is master of us all." "There is half a carlino, if I may go for that?" said Laurella, without looking at the young boatman.