The Sicilian looked puzzled. He puffed meditatively at his cigar and remained silent.
"He is not pursued by the law," I continued, noting his hesitation. "He is simply involved in a cruel difficulty brought upon him by his own family--he seeks to escape from unjust persecution."
Andrea's brow cleared.
"Oh, if that is the case, eccellenza, I am at your service. But where does your friend desire to go?"
I paused for a moment and considered.
"To Civita Vecchia," I said at last, "from that port he can obtain a ship to take him to his further destination."
The captain's expressive face fell--he looked very dubious.
"To Civita Vecchia is a long way, a very long way," he said, regretfully; "and it is the bad season, and there are cross currents and contrary winds. With all the wish in the world to please you, eccellenza, I dare not run the 'Laura' so far; but there is another means--"
And interrupting himself he considered awhile in silence. I waited patiently for him to speak.
"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?"