ain of
profound meditation--a touch on my shoulder startled me. I looked up,
the captain of the brig stood beside me. He smiled and held out a
cigarette.

"The signor will smoke?" he said courteously.

I accepted the little roll of fragrant Havanna half mechanically.

"Why do you call me signor?" I inquired brusquely. "I am a
coral-fisher."

The little man shrugged his shoulders and bowed deferentially, yet with
the smile still dancing gayly in his eyes and dimpling his olive cheeks.

"Oh, certainly! As the signor pleases--ma--" And he ended with another
expressive shrug and bow.

I looked at him fixedly. "What do you mean?" I asked with some
sternness.

With that birdlike lightness and swiftness which were part of his
manner, the Sicilian skipper bent forward and laid a brown finger on my
wrist.

"Scusa, vi prego! But the hands are not those of a fisher of coral."

I glanced down at them. True enough, their smoothness and pliant shape
betrayed my disguise--the gay little captain was sharp-witted enough to
note the contrast between them and the rough garb I wore, though no one
else with whom I had come in contact had been as keen of observation as
he. At first I was slightly embarrassed by his remark--but after a
moment's pause I met his gaze frankly, and lighting my cigarette I
said, carelessly:

"Ebbene! And what then, my friend?"

He made a deprecatory gesture with his hands.

"Nay, nay, nothing--but only this. The signor must understand he is
perfectly safe with me. My tongue is discreet--I talk of things only
that concern myself. The signor has good reasons for what he does--of
that I am sure. He has suffered; it is enough to look in his face to
see that. Ah, Dio if there are so many sorrows in life; there is love,"
he enumerated rapidly on his fingers--"there is revenge--there are
quarrels--there is loss of money; any of these will drive a man from
place to place at all hours and in all weathers. Yes; it is so,
indeed--I know it! The signor has trusted himself in my boat--I desire
to assure him of my best services."

And he raised his red cap with so charming a candor that in my lonely
and morose condition I was touched to the heart. Silently I extended my
hand--he caught it with an air in which respect, sympathy, and entire
friendliness were mingled. And yet he overcharged me for my passage,
you exclaim! Ay--but he would not have made me the object of
impertinent curiosity for twenty times the m