Muhammed nodded appreciatively.
"The priest?" he suggested.
"Father Sigismondi serves six islands besides mine," said the smuggler. "He visits us by favor of my boat, when Christian offices are in special demand. It is a matter I regulate myself."
"Carabineers, tax collectors?"
"Of the former, none; we have leave to cut our own throats. Of the latter, one yearly. He is due in about eight months' time."
"Food?"
"Polenta—fish—beans; at times of festa a risotto of kid. We have goats, and therefore milk."
The Moor nodded.
"I am empowered to offer you for your hospitality for myself and friends twenty lire per head per week during our stay on your boat or island," he said slowly.
Luigi scratched his head.