ction, that brings a more sober tranquillity, when the fit is
over. Your northern phlegm may render the analogy less apparent, but it is
to be found as well among the cooler temperaments of the Teutonic stock,
as among us of warmer blood. Do not this placid hill-side, yon lake, and
the starry heavens, look as if they regretted their late unseemly
violence, and wished to cheat the beholder into forgetfulness of their
attack on our safety, as an impetuous but generous nature would repent it
of the blow given in anger, or of the cutting speech that had escaped in a
moment of spleen? What hast thou to say to my opinion, Signor Sigismund,
for none know better than thou the quality of the tempest we have
encountered?"

"Signore," answered the young soldier, modestly, "you forget this brave
mariner, without whose coolness and forethought all would have been lost.
He has come up to Blonay, at our own request, but, until now, he has been
overlooked."

Maso came forward at a signal from Sigismund, and stood before the party
to whom he had rendered so signal aid, with a composure that was not
easily disturbed.

"I have come up to the castle, Signore, at your commands," he said,
addressing the Genoese; "but, having my own affairs on hand, must now beg
to know your pleasure?"

"We have, in sooth, been negligent of thy merit. On landing, my first
thought was of thee, as thou knowest: but other things had caused me to
forget thee. Thou art, like myself, an Italian?"

"Signore, I am."

"Of what country?"

"Of your own, Signore; a Genoese, as I have said before."

The other remembered the circumstance, though it did not seem to please
him. He looked around, as if to detect what others thought, and then
continued his questions.

"A Genoese!" he repeated, slowly: "if this be so, we should know something
of each other. Hast ever heard of me, in thy frequent visits to the port?"

Maso smiled; at first, he appeared disposed to be facetious; but a dark
cloud passed over his swarthy lineaments, and he lost his pleasantry, in
an air of thoughtfulness that struck his interrogator as singular.

"Signore," he said, after a pause, "most that follow my manner of life
know something of your eccellenza; if it is only to be questioned of this
that I am here, I pray leave to be permitted to go my way."

"No, by San Francesco! thou quittest us not so unceremoniously. I am
wrong to assume the manner of a superior with one to whom I owe my li