me; and had they been otherwise, his large,
flashing, dark eye would have challenged observation. His age was
probably about two or three-and-thirty--he might have been younger--and
he was certainly a very remarkable person. Those who saw him even but
for a moment, went away fancying that they had been long acquainted with
his features. His costume at once betrayed his nation; for he wore the
red fez, the embroidered jacket and full white kilt, and richly-worked
leggings and slippers of the Greek, and the cast of his countenance made
one also conclude that he belonged to that nation. The only other
person on board dressed in the Greek costume, was evidently some years
younger, and was neither so tall nor so strongly built as his companion.
His countenance was decidedly handsome, and what would be called
aristocratic. It was very grave, and, indeed, melancholy in the
extreme; and an accurate observer of character might have divined, from
the form of his mouth and expression of his eyes, that he was sadly in
want of firmness and decision in his actions, which idea, probably,
would not have been very far from the truth. His dress, though the
materials were good, was as plain as the costume he wore would allow;
but it could not be otherwise than elegant and handsome, and it sat well
upon his graceful figure.

Those two persons were earnestly engaged in conversation with another,
who appeared to be the master of the vessel, and they were standing
leaning over the side, away from the rest of the people on board.

"Remember, now," observed the principal Greek to the master, "you are to
be ready to weigh and make sail at a moment's notice; it may be
to-night, even--it may be tomorrow or on the following day--I cannot
say, but you must be prepared."

"_Signor, si_," answered the master in a tone of deep respect. "I will
take care to obey your commands to the letter; but I am afraid there may
be some difficulty with the authorities at the custom-house. They once
suspected me of smuggling, though I was as innocent as the babe unborn,
and they may detain me."

"You know the consequences," returned the Greek, with a fierce look; "I
will listen to no excuse if anything miscarries, so look to it!"

"It is a dangerous expedition you go on, signore," observed the Sicilian
master.

"Dangerous!" exclaimed the Greek, in a tone of contempt. "Danger is the
food we live on, the air we breathe; without it life would lose half it