"I have no charter from Yakoob," he said. "I return home to Salicudi—to await the sponge-fishing season. I need a holiday; this contraband running frets the nerves, do you see? I wish to forget the need of having eyes—and a telescope—at the back of one's head."
For a moment Muhammed was silent, debating, as it seemed, something in which memory or experience gave him no assistance.
"Salicudi?" he questioned.
"In the Lipari group," said the other, laconically. "My home."
"An island?" said the Moor. "And your home? What is it? A house—a hut—a castle? Give me particulars. My chiefest need would be privacy. Can you guarantee it?"
The Italian pondered.
"You flee from—what?" he demanded.
"From a curiosity which still seems to dog my footsteps," said the Moor, drily. "Let it be sufficient for you to know that with three friends I desire to vanish from Melilla to-night. We might find it convenient to remain temporarily on Salicudi. It depends on your neighbors' thirst for information and your capabilities of defeating it."
Signor Luigi gave an expressive and contemptuous wave of the hand.
"On Salicudi are six families—cousins of mine, all of them. I and my brother Sandro alone possess boats or money. The others work for us and are fed. We do not encourage them to think; they do not tire their magnificent brains except under our direction."