answered in a way to satisfy all scruples for the moment. The "From
whence came ye?" asked, however, in an Italian idiom, had been answered
by "Inghilterra, touching at Lisbon and Gibraltar," all regions beyond
distrust, as to the plague, and all happening, at that moment, to give
clean bills of health. But the name of the craft herself had been given
in a way to puzzle all the proficients in Saxon English that Porto
Ferrajo could produce. It had been distinctly enough pronounced by some
one on board, and, at the request of the quarantine department, had been
three times slowly repeated, very much after the following form; viz.:

"_Come chiamate il vostro bastimento?_"

"The Wing-and-Wing."

"_Come!_"

"The Wing-and-Wing."

A long pause, during which the officials put their heads together, first
to compare the sounds of each with those of his companions' ears, and
then to inquire of one who professed to understand English, but whose
knowledge was such as is generally met with in a linguist of a
little-frequented port, the meaning of the term.

"Ving-y-ving!" growled this functionary, not a little puzzled "what ze
devil sort of name is zat! Ask zem again."

"_Come si chiama la vostra barca, Signori Inglesi?_" repeated he who
hailed.