came alone to the play.' 'My dear friend,'
said I to Arami, 'if you would have me believe you, you must grant
me a favor.' 'What is it?' said he. 'It is, that you do not leave me
during the evening, so that I may be sure you give no instructions to
your friend, and when we join him, that you ask him to repeat aloud
what he said to you by signs.' 'That I will,' said Arami. The curtain
then rose; the second act of Norma was played; the curtain falling,
and the actors being recalled, as usual, we went to the side-room,
where we met the traveler. 'My dear friend,' said Arami, 'I did not
perfectly comprehend what you wanted to tell me; be so good as to
repeat it.' The traveler repeated the story word for word, and without
varying a syllable from the translation, which Arami had made of his
signs; it was marvelous indeed.

"Six weeks after this, I saw a second example of this faculty of mute
communication. This was at Naples. I was walking with a young man
of Syracuse. We passed by a sentinel. The soldier and my companion
exchanged two or three grimaces, which at another time I should not
even have noticed, but the instances I had before seen led me to give
attention. 'Poor fellow,' sighed my companion. 'What did he say to
you?' I asked. 'Well,' said he, 'I thought that I recognized him as
a Sicilian, and I learned from him, as we passed, from what place he
came; he said he was from Syracuse, and that he knew me well. Then
I asked him how he liked the Neapolitan service; he said he did not
like it at all, and if his officers did not treat him better he should
certainly finish by deserting. I then signified to him that if he ever
should be reduced to that extremity, he might rely upon me, and that
I would aid him all in my power. The poor fellow thanked me with all
his heart, and I have no doubt that one day or other I shall see him
come.' Three days after, I was at the quarters of my Syracusan friend,
when he was told that a man asked to see him who would not give his
name; he went out and left me nearly ten minutes. 'Well,' said he,
on returning, 'just as I said.' 'What?' said I. 'That the poor fellow
would desert.'"

After this there is an excuse for believing the tradition that the
revolt called "the Sicilian Vespers," in 1282, was arranged throughout
the island without the use of a syllable, and even the day and hour
for the massacre of the obnoxious foreigners fixed upon by signs only.
Indeed, the popular story goes s