threshold. It was now too late to prevent the intrusion, and a little
surprise at the appearance of the new-comer held all mute and observant
for a minute.

The person who had followed his ears, and thus reached the sanctum
sanctorum of Benedetta, was no other than Ithuel Bolt, the American
seaman, already named in the earlier part of this chapter. He was backed
by a Genoese, who had come in the double capacity of interpreter and
boon companion. That the reader may the better understand the character
he has to deal with, however, it may be necessary to digress, by giving
a short account of the history, appearance, and peculiarities of the
former individual.

Ithuel Bolt was a native of what, in this great Union, is called the
Granite State, Notwithstanding he was not absolutely made of the stone
in question, there was an absence of the ordinary symptoms of natural
feeling about him, that had induced many of his French acquaintances in
particular to affirm that there was a good deal more of marble in his
moral temperament, at least, than usually fell to the lot of human
beings. He had the outline of a good frame, but it was miserably
deficient in the filling up. The bone predominated; the sinews came next
in consideration, nor was the man without a proper share of muscle; but
this last was so disposed of as to present nothing but angles, whichever
way he was viewed. Even his thumbs and fingers were nearer square than
round; and his very neck, which was bare, though a black silk kerchief
was tied loosely round the throat, had a sort of pentagon look about it,
that defied all symmetry or grace. His stature was just six feet and an
inch, when he straightened himself; as he did from time to time,
seemingly with a desire to relieve a very inveterate stoop in his
shoulders; though it was an inch or two less in the position he most