eak.

"Whether it would suit your friend I know not," he said at last, laying
his hand confidentially on my arm, "but there is a stout brig leaving
here for Civita Vecchia on Friday morning next--"

"The day after Giovedi Grasso?" I queried, with a smile he did not
understand. He nodded.

"Exactly so. She carries a cargo of Lacrima Cristi, and she is a swift
sailer. I know her captain--he is a good soul; but," and Andrea laughed
lightly, "he is like the rest of us--he loves money. You do not count
the francs--no, they are nothing to you--but we look to the soldi. Now,
if it please you I will make him a certain offer of passage money, as
large as you shall choose, also I will tell him when to expect his one
passenger, and I can almost promise you that he will not say no!"

This proposal fitted in so excellently with my plans that I accepted
it, and at once named an exceptionally munificent sum for the passage
required. Andrea's eyes glistened as he heard.

"It is a little fortune!" he cried, enthusiastically. "Would that I
could earn as much in twenty voyages! But one should not be
churlish--such luck cannot fall in all men's way."

I smiled.

"And do you think, amico, I will suffer you to go unrewarded?" I said.
And placing two twenty-franc pieces in his brown palm I added, "As you
rightly said, francs are nothing to me. Arrange this little matter
without difficulty, and you shall not be forgotten. You can call at my
hotel to-morrow or the next day, when you have settled everything--here
is the address," and I penciled it on my card and gave it to him; "but
remember, this is a secret matter, and I rely upon you to explain it as
such to your friend who commands the brig going to Civita Vecchia. He
must ask no questions of his passenger--the more silence the more
discretion--and when once he has landed him at his destination he will
do well to straightway forget all about him. You understand?"

Andrea nodded briskly.

"Si, si, signer. He has a bad memory as it is--it shall grow worse at
your command! Believe it!"

I laughed, shook hands, and parted with the friendly little fellow, he
returning to the Molo, and I slowly walking homeward by way of the
Villa Reale. An open carriage coming swiftly toward me attracted my
attention; as it drew nearer I recognized the prancing steeds and the
familiar liveries. A fair woman clad in olive velvets and Russian
sables looked out smiling, and waved her hand.

It was my w