The Genoese made a hasty movement towards the patron, with an earnestness
of eye and air that betrayed a sudden and singular interest in what he
heard.

"Did'st thou say de Willading?" he exclaimed, eager as one of much fewer
years would have been at the unexpected announcement of some pleasurable
event. "Melchior, too, of that honorable name?"

"Signore, the same. None other bears the title now, for the old line, they
say, is drawing to an end. I remember this same baron, when he was as
ready to launch his boat into a troubled lake, as any in Switzerland--"

"Fortune hath truly favored me, good Marcelli!" interrupted the other,
grasping the hand of his companion, with strong feeling. "Go thou to the
bark, master patron, and advise thy passenger that--what shall we say to
Melchior? Shall we tell him at once, who waits him here, or shall we
practise a little on his failing memory? By San Francesco! we will do
this, Enrico, that we may try his powers! 'Twill be pleasant to see him
wonder and guess--my life on it, however, that he knows me at a glance. I
am truly little changed for one that hath seen so much."

The Signor Marcelli lowered his eyes respectfully at this opinion of his
friend, but he did not see fit to discourage a belief which was merely a
sudden ebullition, produced by the recollection of younger days. Baptiste
was instantly dispatched with a request that the baron would do a stranger
of rank the favor to come to the water-gate.

"Tell him 'tis a traveller disappointed in the wish to be of his company,"
repeated the Genoese. "That will suffice. I know him courteous, and he is
not my Melchior, honest Marcelli, if he delay an instant:--thou seest! he