rtain, until she should tire of it
and us.

The rest (I say) we left to chance, which at first served us
smoothly. The breeze, though it continued fair, fell light soon
after daybreak, and noon was well past before we sighted the Ligurian
coast. We dowsed sail and pulled towards it leisurably, waiting for
the hour when the fishing-boats should put out from Porto Fino: which
they did towards sunset, running out by ones and two's before the
breeze which then began to draw off the land, and making a pretty
moving picture against the evening glow. When night had fallen we
hoisted our lateen again and worked up towards them.

These fishermen (as I reasoned, from our own Cornish practice) would
shoot their nets soon after nightfall and before the moon's rising--
to haul them, perhaps, two hours later, and await the approach of
morning for their second cast. Towards midnight, then, we sailed
boldly up to the outermost boat and spoke her through Marc'antonio,
who (_fas est ab hoste doceri_) had in old campaigns picked up enough
of the Genoese patois to mimic it very passably. He announced us as
sent by certain Genoese fishmongers--a new and enterprising firm
whose name he invented on the spur of the moment--to trade for the
first catch of fish and carry them early to market, where their
freshness would command good prices. The fishermen, at first
suspicious, gave way at sight of the Genoese money in his hand, and
accepted an offer which not only saved them a journey but (as we
calculated) put from three to four extra livres in their pockets.
Within twenty minutes they had transferred two thousand fish to our
boat, and we sailed off into the darkness, ostensibly to trade with
the others. Doubtless they wished us good night for a set of fools.

We did not trouble their fellows. Two thousand fish, artfully spread
to look like thrice the number, ought to pass us under the eyes of
all Genoa: so for Genoa we headed forthwith, hauling up on the
starboard tack and heeling to our gunwale under the breeze which
freshened and blew steadily off the shore.

Sunrise found us almost abreast of the harbour: and the clocks from
the city churches were striking seven as we rounded up under the
great mole on the eastern side of the entrance and floated into the
calm basin within. I confess that my heart sank as Genoa opened in
panorama before us, spreading in a vast semicircle with its dockyards
and warehouses, its palaces, its roofs