“An awful lesson to others to be more careful how they manage affairs,” observed the principal Greek, laughing. “Now, I dare say, if the truth was known, those fellows blundered terribly. It’s always the case when people get into the clutches of the law.”
The other Greek shuddered and turned his head aside. “It is not a pleasant sight,” he observed.
“Oh! those English are terrible fellows for punishing those engaged in any little transaction of that sort,” said the padrone. “They are good people, though.”
“They are remarkably conceited,” said the Greek, twirling his moustache – “they believe that they can make the whole world obey them; but it is time that we should look about us. Ah! steer near that merchant-brig there, in the mouth of the harbour, I should like to have a look at her that I might know her again.”
The man at the helm put it so much to port, that the end of one of the long tapering yards of the speronara nearly got foul of the Zodiac’s fore-yard.
“What the deuce are you lubbers about, that you cannot keep yourself clear of your neighbours?” sung out Bowse’s mate, from the main rigging. “I’ll teach you better manners if I catch you at sea, that’s all.”
“The Englishman seems angry,” said the Greek, laughing. “That brig, though, looks as if she had a valuable cargo on board. I must learn more about her.”
Conversation was now put a stop to, in consequence of the caution necessary for steering into a thickly-crowded harbour, and the hurry of bringing up.
She dropped her anchor among a number of similarly-rigged craft, close inshore, where she lay exciting little or no observation, except that a few boatmen saw her, and were calculating their prospects of having to transport her passengers or merchandise to the landing-place.
As soon as her sails were stowed, which was speedily done, the health-boat came alongside, and as it appeared she had come from Sicily, pratique was immediately given her. She was next visited by the custom-house boat. The officer, for some reason or other, seemed to consider that there was something suspicious about her, for he examined her papers very minutely, and read them over more than once, but was at last obliged to pass them as correct. The vessel next underwent a strict search, but nothing contraband was found on board her, and at last he took his departure, even then casting back a look of doubt at her, as if he was not thoroughly convinced that all was right.
During these proceedings the Greek sat in the after part of the vessel, maintaining a perfect silence, while he played with the handle of a short poniard which he wore in his sash.
“You appear to be suspected, my friend,” he observed to the master, as soon as the officers had gone.
“So it seems, signore,” he answered. “The fact is, once upon a time, I had a few bales of goods on board, which I contrived to land without paying the duties, and I have ever since been watched as if I were a smuggler.”
“It was clumsy in you to be discovered,” observed the Greek. “In the present instance I might find it inconvenient.”
A man in a small boat, who had been paddling quietly at a little distance from the speronara, as soon as the government officials had left her, darted alongside.
“Ah! Signor Sandro, welcome back to Malta,” he exclaimed, addressing the master of the little vessel. “I have not seen you here for a long time.”
“Not the less welcome I hope, Manuel,” said the master.
“Few are who remember their friends and pay well,” said the boatman. “How can I best serve you, signore?”
“By landing my passengers, and giving them all the information they may require,” said the master. “Hark you, Manuel – put your head nearer – my boy’s life is answerable for their safety – so, as you love me, take care that they get into no trouble. They seek a passage to some part of their own country on board a merchantman, and have come here to look for one to suit them.”
“I understand clearly, signor,” said the boatman, significantly. “But who are they? What is their calling, or occupation?”
“Oh! mother of Heaven, don’t ask me!” answered the padrone, with a terrified look. “They may overhear you. It is not my business to put questions to them. It is enough that they pay well, and do not wish to be known. Besides, they would not scruple to cut my throat if they were offended – and most assuredly their friends would string up my poor boy, if anything went wrong with them. Even now, look at the captain – I mean the best dressed of the two. How he is playing with the hilt of his dagger there. He is meditating sticking it into my ribs because I am talking so long to you. I tell you, you must watch over their safety; and, in the name of the saints, aid them to get away as fast as possible – for, till they are out of the place, I shall not feel my head secure on my shoulders.”
“Oh! I understand. They are political offenders disguised as Greeks, who do not wish their movements to be known;” said the sharp-witted boatman, jumping at a conclusion. “I’ll undertake to serve you and them – not forgetting myself – and, I trust, that they will make it worth my while.”
“No fear of that,” the padrone was saying, when the Greek’s voice summoned him aft.
“What were you saying to the boatman?” he asked in an angry tone.
“I was making arrangements with him to take you on shore, signor, and do your bidding,” was the answer.
“Well, he may land me at once,” said the Greek. “Paolo, do you remain on board till I send for you, and let not a man quit the vessel on any excuse,” he whispered. “Such provisions as they require, the boatman can bring off for them, and I will manage to make him faithful.”
The Greek, without further remarks, swung himself over the side of the vessel and took his seat in Manuel’s boat.
“Hist, Manuel,” he said, in the lingua Franca, well understood by the Maltese boatmen; “you are debating in your mind whether you will inform the authorities that a suspicious character has landed on the island, and 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