"Yes," Pasquale answered. "A roasted fish on bread with a little oil is very savoury. As for passing the time, I suppose that you are looking for a ship."
"Of course," the man replied. "If we had a ship we should not be here fishing! It is a bad time of the year, you must know, for most of the Venetian vessels are at sea, and we do not care to ship with any Neapolitan captain who chances to have starved some of his crew to death!"
"I have heard of a rich Greek merchant captain who has been in Venice some time," observed Pasquale carelessly. "He will be looking out for a crew before long."
"Is Captain Aristarchi going to sea at last?" asked the man who had not spoken yet. "Or do you mean some other captain?"
"That is the name, I believe," said Pasquale. "It was an outlandish name like that. Do you ever see him about the docks? I saw him once, a piece of man, I tell you, with bones like a bull and a face like a bear."
"He is not often seen," answered the man who had spoken last. "That is his ship; over there, between the 'trabacolo' and the dismasted hulk."
"I see her," returned Pasquale at once. "A thorough Greek she is, too, by her looks, but well kept enough if she is only, waiting for a cargo, with two or three hands on board."
The men laughed a little at Pasquale's ignorance concerning the vessel.
"She has a full crew," said one. "She is always ready for sea at any moment, with provisions and water. No one can understand what the captain means, nor why he is here, nor why he is willing to pay twenty men for doing nothing."
"Does the captain live on board of her?" inquired Pasquale indifferently.