round the fire arose and approached the landing-place, their eyes fixed on the boat, evidently seeking to know who the newcomers were and what were their intentions. They soon appeared satisfied and returned (with the exception of one, who remained at the shore) to their fire, at which the carcass of a goat was roasting. When the boat was within twenty paces of the shore, the man on the beach, who carried a carbine, presented arms after the manner of a sentinel, and cried, “Who comes there?” in Sardinian.
Franz coolly cocked both barrels. Gaetano then exchanged a few words with this man which the traveller did not understand, but which evidently concerned him.
“Will your excellency give your name, or remain incognito?” asked the captain.
“My name must rest unknown,” replied Franz; “merely say I am a Frenchman