Smees, and Ving-y-Ving, Guernsey names?"

"They are not particularly so," returned the sailor, with difficulty
refraining from laughing in the vice-governatore's face; "Jaques Smeet'
being so English, that we are the largest family, perhaps, in all
Inghilterra. Half the nobles of the island are called Smeet', and not a
few are named Jaques. But little Guernsey was conquered; and our
ancestors who performed that office brought their names with them,
Signore. As for Ving-and-Ving, it is _capital_ English."

"I do not see, Vito, but this is reasonable. If the capitano, now, only
had his commission with him, you and I might go to bed in peace, and
sleep till morning."

"Here, then, Signore, are your sleeping potions," continued the laughing
sailor, drawing from his pocket several papers. "These are my orders
from the admiral; and, as they are not secret, you can cast your eyes
over them. This is my commission, Signor Vice-governatore--this is the
signature of the English minister of marine--and here is my own, 'Jaques
Smeet'' as you see, and here is the order to me, as a lieutenant, to
take command of the Ving-and-Ving."

All the orders and names were there, certainly, written in a clear, fair
hand, and in perfectly good English. The only thing that one who
understood the language would have been apt to advert to, was the
circumstance that the words which the sailor pronounced "Jaques Smeet'"
were written, plainly enough, "Jack Smith"--an innovation on the common
practice, which, to own the truth, had proceeded from his own obstinacy,
and had been done in the very teeth of the objections of the scribe who
forged the papers. But Andrea was still too little of an English scholar