a little apart from the general crowd, there were but a few yards
between the spot where it stood and that occupied by 'Maso; so that,
when the latter spoke, an attentive listener among the former might hear
his words. This was an office that Tonti did not choose to undertake,
however, until he was questioned by the podestà, Vito Viti, who now
appeared on the hill in person, puffing like a whale that rises to
breathe, from the vigor of his ascent.

"What dost thou make of her, good 'Maso?" demanded the magistrate, after
he had examined the stranger himself some time in silence, feeling
authorized, in virtue of his office, to question whom he pleased.

"Signore, it is a lugger," was the brief, and certainly the accurate
reply.

"Aye, a lugger; we all understand that, neighbor Tonti; but what sort of
a lugger? There are felucca-luggers, and polacre-luggers, and
bombarda-luggers, and all sorts of luggers; which sort of lugger
is this?"

"Signor Podestà, this is not the language of the port. We call a
felucca, a felucca; a bombarda, a bombarda; a polacre, a polacre; and a
lugger, a lugger. This is therefore a lugger."

'Maso spoke authoritatively, for he felt that he was now not out of his
depth, and it was grateful to him to let the public know how much better
he understood all these matters than a magistrate. On the other hand,
the podestà was nettled, and disappointed into the bargain, for he
really imagined he was drawing nice distinctions, much as it was his
wont to do in legal proceedings; and it was his ambition to be thought