David shook his head.
At this the brigand frowned, and once more relapsed into silence for some time. At length he made a further effort.
"Russo?" he asked, in an interrogative tone, elevating his eyebrows.
David shook his head.
"Turco?" asked the brigand again, in the same tone and manner.
Again David shook his head, wondering why the brigand should for one moment imagine it possible that he could be a Russian or a Turk.
"Greco?" asked the brigand, in a tone of voice which seemed as though he was about to give it up as a hopeless conundrum.
When David shook his head at this, the brigand turned away in disgust, and stood for a few moments meditating. David felt his fate to be hanging in the balance, and stood in deep suspense, watching with anxious eyes the face of his captor. But the heavy beard and mustache, and the slouched felt hat, concealed all expression; nor could David see anything there which could at all lessen his anxiety. He thought, however, that if he could only communicate in some way his mournful story, and let his captor see that he had come here unintentionally, and only wanted to get back to his friends, he might excite his compassion, if indeed there was any compassion in the stern soul of this awful being. It was David's only chance, however; and so, putting his hand timidly on the brigand's arm, he pointed towards the shore, and waved his arm towards Naples.
At this the brigand stared; but seeing that David persistently pointed in that direction, he walked off through the grove for a few paces, till he reached the top of the bank, where the beach appeared before him, and the boat drawn up on it. David followed him, and as they came in sight of the boat he pointed towards it, and then touched his breast, meaning by that to show that the boat was his. This the brigand at once understood, and after once more staring hard at David, as though anxious to ascertain whether he was speaking the truth or not, he bounded down the bank, and strode towards the boat, which he examined narrowly, inside and out. Daring this time he paid no attention to David; but to the poor lost lad this indifference gave no hope. He knew that there was no escape for him. He felt that on this island the brigand was supreme, and any effort to fly would only be worse than useless. So, instead of trying to fly, he followed the brigand, and came up to where he was standing beside the boat.
The brigand examined it very narrowly outside and inside. He inspected the bow, the stern, and the rudder. He knelt down and looked underneath. He stepped inside and examined David's clumsy fastenings of the sail. These excited much interest, apparently, and caused prolonged study on his part. To David all this appeared perfectly intelligible, and very natural. The brigand was evidently examining his plunder, to see what it was worth. David felt an additional pang of grief at the thought that he had sequestrated the property of some innocent Castellamare fisherman, and diverted it into the possession of brigands; but he consoled himself by the thought that if he ever escaped he could hunt up the owner and make good the loss. Escape for himself was the first thing, and he tried to hope that the boat might prove a prize sufficiently valuable to mollify the mind of the brigand, and dispose him to mercy and compassion. So, as the brigand inspected the boat, David stood watching the brigand, and looking earnestly to see whether there were any signs of a relenting disposition. But the face of the brigand preserved an unchanged expression; and after he had examined the boat to his satisfaction, he once more confronted David, and the poor, forlorn, despairing lad saw that his aspect was as malign, as ferocious, and as truculent as ever.