"Only for the sake of our country, Princess. Her patriotism takes the form of gratitude to me, who have been fortunate enough to be intimately connected with the salvation of her country before her eyes. I am not to her a mere man, but the saviour of England, and the Sicilies, from the wicked murderous French. Nelson the man is nothing to her. He is, as you see, a little one-eyed, one-armed being, obliged to brush his hair over his forehead to hide an untidy scar. If she thought of the man at all she would think of a big fine man like Captain Troubridge; and if she is a bit motherly to me, why, so she is to my mids, and it's all because I'm such a poor little thing playing hide-and-seek with fever." "Yes; Miladi has the mother's heart," she said slowly, as if the words were extorted from her; "but the mother's heart it is a woman's heart, and what woman, not of the enemy, would not find her heart--graz-ee-us is it you say?" "Certainly, gracious--that is what she is, a woman of women. There is no one like her--so generous, so enthusiastic, so truly noble." "She is very _lov-ly_; and how are other women to show that they have such hearts to the liberator of their country?" "By attending to the comforts of my officers and sailors. We brought many badly wounded with us, who need the attention of women to give them back their full manhood." "_Hélas!_ it is not possible. Our women have not such hearts; they could not give tenderness without also their love. But the English, they are not so. To us friendship between man and woman is like fire: we may warm the tips of our fingers at a--I do not know your word--_scaldino_, but we cannot have your English open fires, for we have not the chimneys." "Eccellenza!" called the Queen. "Coming, Your Majesty," answered the Admiral, hopping off. They were very great friends, the Queen and the Admiral, and mingled playfulness with the most solemn and important business. Very likely Her Majesty had diplomatic reasons. It is quite easy to give the numbers of an army to a man who is playing ball with you, or trying to take off a _pulcinello_. Donna Rusidda turned round to Will, who was still very grim and hurt, and looked as though he would give his whole prospects to hide himself in the little Saracen building which the Queen had erected as a kind of summer-house, and which was the last piece of shelter before the Palace, that rose with the splendour and solitariness of a temple half a mile away. "Oh W-Will," she said, returning with great relief to Italian, "I am sorry. Go in there, and I will tell you what I will do for you." The house stood in a little thicket of laurels, from which only its flat terraced roof and turret were visible at the Palace. He did not move.