He soon roused himself from his pleasant reverie, and drawing his chair closer to mine, assumed an air of mystery.

"And for your friend who is in trouble," he said, in a confidential tone, then paused and looked at me as though waiting permission to proceed.

I nodded.

"Go on, amico. What have you arranged?"

"Everything!" he announced, with an air of triumph. "All is smooth sailing. At six o'clock on Friday morning the 'Rondinella,' that is the brig I told you of, eccellenza, will weigh anchor for Civita Vecchia. Her captain, old Antonio Bardi, will wait ten minutes or even a quarter of an hour if necessary for the--the--"

"Passenger," I supplemented. "Very amiable of him, but he will not need to delay his departure for a single instant beyond the appointed hour. Is he satisfied with the passage money?"

"Satisfied!" and Andrea swore a good-natured oath and laughed aloud. "By San Pietro! if he were not, he would deserve to drown like a dog on the voyage! Though truly, it is always difficult to please him, he being old and cross and crusty. Yes; he is one of those men who have seen so much of life that they are tired of it. Believe it! even the stormiest sea is a tame fish-pond to old Bardi. But he is satisfied this time, eccellenza, and his tongue and eyes are so tied up that I should not wonder if your friend found him to be both dumb and blind when he steps on board."