“You have not to go far to perform my directions; but I want faithfulness in the discharge of the duty I shall impose on you,” said the Greek, sternly. “And, mark me, Giacomo—if you play me false, as you have done others, I will find you out, and finish your worthless life with as little compunction as I would that of a rabid dog.”
“Si, signor capitan, I very well know that you are not a man to be trifled with,” answered the beggar, bowing his head.
“Tell me what you want, and by the Holy Virgin and all the saints in heaven I will perform the work faithfully.”
“Your oath is superfluous, as you would break it for a copper-piece, so don’t insult me with it,” replied the Greek, scornfully. “But, listen: there is a certain Jew—Aaron Bannech by name—his office—his den—the place where he cheats, and robs, and lies, is beneath the Albergo—in the Strada. Do you hear?”
“Si, signor, si,—I know the place—I know the man,” said the beggar, hastily.
“You know him; it is well that you should—you are an admirable pair. He would sell his soul for a dollar, and would then try to cheat the devil out of it. You are a meaner knave. Half that sum would buy you. You both are useful to me, though. Hasten to him, and tell him that I am here. Say that he must clear out his den of visitors, clerks, or other prying knaves, and that I will be with him in half an hour. When you have done this, go down to the port, and learn what vessels are about to sail, shortly, for the eastward, with all particulars about them—their cargoes—armed force—and number of men—also what ships are expected to arrive shortly from the same quarter. Having gleaned this information, which you well know how to do, come up with it to the residence of the Jew. Listen, also, if anything is said about the Speronara Volante, from Syracuse, by which I arrived. Alessandro is her master—or, if any remarks are made respecting me. I am, probably, unnoticed; but it is as well to be cautious.”
“I will strictly obey your directions, signor,” said the beggar. “Have you further orders?”
“No—you may go. I have been talking to you too long already, and may have been observed.”
“Rest assured of my fidelity,” said the beggar, hobbling off up the street on his crutches, at a far more rapid rate than he was generally wont to move.
No sooner, however, had he got out of sight of the Greek, than he slackened his pace.