get a reward from them, or whether you will take the chance of
pocketing what my generosity may induce me to bestow. Now, mark me, my
honest friend. In the first place, I could get you hung for a little
transaction, of which you know."

The boatman started, and looked round with a suspicious glance.

"_Que diavolo_, who can this be?" he muttered.

"In the second, remember the English do not detain a man on bare
suspicions, and but shabbily reward an informer. On the other hand,
twenty colonati are yours, if you do my bidding. I do not want an
answer--you are not a fool. Now row on shore as fast as you can."

The Greek was a judge of character; and he seemed not to be altogether
unacquainted with Manuel, the boatman. The boat ran into the public
landing-place, and he stepped on shore with an independent and fearless
air, where he mingled among the busy and motley throng who crowded the
quay. The boatman, Manuel, sat in his boat a little distance from the
shore, watching him, and ready, apparently, to obey his orders when he
should be required.

The Greek proceeded onward through the lower parts of the town, eyeing
those he passed with a quick keen glance, which seemed to read their
very thoughts. People were too much accustomed to see the varied
costumes of the East to regard him with unusual curiosity, or to
incommode him in his progress by stopping to stare at him; at the same
time that many remarked him as he slowly sauntered on and wondered
whence he had come. He seemed to have nothing more to do than to amuse
himself by viewing the city, though he had certainly not selected the
most interesting or cleanest quarter. He apparently was a stranger to
the place, by the way in which he hesitated at each crossing, which
turning he should take, till he had carefully deciphered the name on the
wall. Now he stopped to look into a shop, then to gaze up at the
windows of a house as if he expected to see some one there, and then to
throw a copper to some importunate beggar. He walked with an air of so
much independence and nonchalance, indeed, at times, almost of
haughtiness, that it was difficult to suppose he had the slightest
apprehension of danger. Not a person, however, who, passed him, escaped
his scrutiny; and even when he appeared to stop carelessly, or for the
sake of considering the way he was to take, he cast a hurried glance
behind him to satisfy himself that no one was acting the spy on his
movemen