Dickens, Charles – Pictures from Italy

new cargo, for nearly twelve months longer. This wool of ours, had

come originally from some place in the East. It was recognised as

Eastern produce, the moment we entered the harbour. Accordingly,

the gay little Sunday boats, full of holiday people, which had come

off to greet us, were warned away by the authorities; we were

declared in quarantine; and a great flag was solemnly run up to the

mast-head on the wharf, to make it known to all the town.

It was a very hot day indeed. We were unshaved, unwashed,

undressed, unfed, and could hardly enjoy the absurdity of lying

blistering in a lazy harbour, with the town looking on from a

respectful distance, all manner of whiskered men in cocked hats

discussing our fate at a remote guard-house, with gestures (we

looked very hard at them through telescopes) expressive of a week’s

detention at least: and nothing whatever the matter all the time.

But even in this crisis the brave Courier achieved a triumph. He

telegraphed somebody (I saw nobody) either naturally connected with

the hotel, or put EN RAPPORT with the establishment for that

occasion only. The telegraph was answered, and in half an hour or

less, there came a loud shout from the guard-house. The captain

was wanted. Everybody helped the captain into his boat. Everybody

got his luggage, and said we were going. The captain rowed away,

and disappeared behind a little jutting corner of the Galleyslaves’

Prison: and presently came back with something, very

sulkily. The brave Courier met him at the side, and received the

something as its rightful owner. It was a wicker basket, folded in

a linen cloth; and in it were two great bottles of wine, a roast

fowl, some salt fish chopped with garlic, a great loaf of bread, a

dozen or so of peaches, and a few other trifles. When we had

selected our own breakfast, the brave Courier invited a chosen

party to partake of these refreshments, and assured them that they

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Dickens, Charles – Pictures From Italy

need not be deterred by motives of delicacy, as he would order a

second basket to be furnished at their expense. Which he did – no

one knew how – and by-and-by, the captain being again summoned,

again sulkily returned with another something; over which my

popular attendant presided as before: carving with a clasp-knife,

his own personal property, something smaller than a Roman sword.

The whole party on board were made merry by these unexpected

supplies; but none more so than a loquacious little Frenchman, who

got drunk in five minutes, and a sturdy Cappuccino Friar, who had

taken everybody’s fancy mightily, and was one of the best friars in

the world, I verily believe.

He had a free, open countenance; and a rich brown, flowing beard;

and was a remarkably handsome man, of about fifty. He had come up

to us, early in the morning, and inquired whether we were sure to

be at Nice by eleven; saying that he particularly wanted to know,

because if we reached it by that time he would have to perform

Mass, and must deal with the consecrated wafer, fasting; whereas,

if there were no chance of his being in time, he would immediately

breakfast. He made this communication, under the idea that the

brave Courier was the captain; and indeed he looked much more like

it than anybody else on board. Being assured that we should arrive

in good time, he fasted, and talked, fasting, to everybody, with

the most charming good humour; answering jokes at the expense of

friars, with other jokes at the expense of laymen, and saying that,

friar as he was, he would engage to take up the two strongest men

on board, one after the other, with his teeth, and carry them along

the deck. Nobody gave him the opportunity, but I dare say he could

have done it; for he was a gallant, noble figure of a man, even in

the Cappuccino dress, which is the ugliest and most ungainly that

can well be.

All this had given great delight to the loquacious Frenchman, who

gradually patronised the Friar very much, and seemed to commiserate

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