s of the sea. When, however, the low, long,
dark hull, which upheld such wide sheets of canvas, became fairly
visible, the omens thickened, rumors spread, and hundreds collected on
the spot, which, in Manhattanese parlance, would probably have been
called a battery. Nor would the name have been altogether inappropriate,
as a small battery was established there, and that, too, in a position
which would easily throw a shot two-thirds of a league into the offing;
or about the distance that the stranger was now from the shore.

Tommaso Tonti was the oldest mariner of Elba, and luckily, being a
sober, and usually a discreet man, he was the oracle of the island in
most things that related to the sea. As each citizen, wine-dealer,
grocer, innkeeper, or worker in iron, came up on the height, he
incontinently inquired for Tonti, or 'Maso, as he was generally called;
and getting the bearings and distance of the gray-headed old seaman, he
invariably made his way to his side, until a group of some two hundred
men, women, and children had clustered near the person of the _pilota_,
as the faithful gather about a favorite expounder of the law, in moments
of religious excitement. It was worthy of remark, too, with how much
consideration this little crowd of gentle Italians treated their aged
seaman, on this occasion; none bawling out their questions, and all
using the greatest care not to get in front of his person, lest they
might intercept his means of observation. Five or six old sailors, like
himself, were close at his side; these, it is true, did not hesitate to
speak as became their experience. But Tonti had obtained no small part
of his reputation by exercising great moderation in delivering his
oracles, and perhaps by seeming to know more than he actually revealed.
He was reserved, therefore; and while his brethren of the sea ventured
on sundry conflicting opinions concerning the character of the stranger,
and a hundred idle conjectures had flown from mouth to mouth, among the
landsmen and females, not a syllable that could commit the old man
escaped his lips. He let the others talk at will; as for himself, it
suited his habits, and possibly his doubts, to maintain a grave and
portentous silence.

We have spoken of females; as a matter of course, an event like this, in
a town of some three or four thousand souls, would be likely to draw a
due proportion of the gentler sex to the heights. Most of them contrived
to get as near a