"Thou art a Genoese of the name of Thomaso Santi?" he asked, consulting his notes.
"By this name, Signore, am I generally known."
"Thou art a mariner, and it is said one of courage and skill. Why hast thou given thyself the ungracious appellation of Il Maledetto?"
"Men call me thus. It is a misfortune, but not a crime, to be accursed."
"He that is so ready to abuse his own fortunes should not be surprised if others are led to think he merits his fate. We have some accounts of thee in Valais; 'tis said thou art a free-trader?"
"The fact can little concern Valais or her government, since all come and go unquestioned in this free land."
"It is true, we do not imitate our neighbors in all their policy; neither do we like to see so often those who set at naught the laws of friendly states. Why art thou journeying on this road?"
"Signore, if I am what you say, the reason of my being here is sufficiently plain. It is probably because the Lombard and Piedmontese are more exacting of the stranger than you of the mountains."
"Your effects have been examined, and they offer nothing to support the suspicion. By all appearances, Maso, thou hast not much of the goods of life to boast of; but, in spite of this, thy reputation clings to thee."
"Ay, Signore, this is much after the world's humor. Let it fancy any quality in a man, and he is sure to get more than his share of the same, whether it be for or against his interest. The rich man's florin is quickly coined into a sequin by vulgar tongues, while the poor man is lucky if he can get the change of a silver mark for an ounce of the better metal. Even poor Nettuno finds it difficult to get a living here at the convent, because some difference in coat and instinct has given him a bad name among the dogs of St. Bernard!"