night, and the fool of a captain seemed to add to our peril by every
order he gave."

"You are alone, then?"

"I have a friend with me," was the answer.

"And how many of the crew are there?"

"Sixteen, all told."

"English, I suppose?"

"Not all. I find French and Italians are more sober than English, and
better behaved in port."

I examined him critically as he sat facing me, and the mere fact of his
desire to send thanks to the authorities convinced me that he was a
well-bred gentleman. He was about forty-five, with a merry round,
good-natured face, red with the southern sun, blue eyes, and a short
fair beard. His countenance was essentially that of a man devoted to
open-air sport, for it was slightly furrowed and weather-beaten as a
true yachtsman's should be. His speech was refined and cultivated, and
as we chatted he gave me the impression that as an enthusiastic lover of
the sea, he had cruised the Mediterranean many times from Gibraltar up
to Smyrna. He had, however, never before put into Leghorn.

After we had arranged that his captain should come to me in the
afternoon and make a formal report of the accident, we went out together
across the white sunny piazza to Nasi's, the well-known pastry-cook's,