Pippo turned suddenly, following the direction of the other's eye, and
cast a glance at the self-styled Il Maledetto. This individual, of all
the common herd, had alone forborne to join the gaping and amused crowd
near the juggler. His forbearance, or want of curiosity, had left him in
the quiet possession of the little platform that was made by the stowage
of the boxes, and he now stood on the summit of the pile, conspicuous by
his situation and mein, the latter being remarkable for its unmoved
calmness, heightened by the understanding manner that is so peculiar to a
seaman when afloat."

"Wilt thou have the history of thy coming perils, friend mariner?" cried
the mercurial mountebank: "A journal of thy future risks and tempests to
amuse you in this calm? Such a picture of sea-monsters and of coral that
grows in the ocean's caverns, where mariners sleep, that shall give thee
the night-mare for months, and cause thee to dream of wrecks and bleached
bones for the rest of thy life? Thou hast only to wish it, to have the
adventures of thy next voyage laid before thee, like a map."

"Thou would'st gain more credit with me, as one cunning in thy art, by
giving the history of the last."

"The request is reasonable, and thou shalt have it: for I love the bold
adventurer that trusts himself hardily upon the great deep;" answered the
unabashed Pippo. "My first lessons in necromancy were received on the mole
of Napoli, amid burly Inglesi, straight-nosed Greeks, swarthy Sicilians,
and Maltese with spirits as fine as the gold of their own chains. This was
the school in which I learned to know my art, and an apt scholar I proved
in all that touches the philosophy and humanity of my craft. Signore, thy
palm?"