If this were
true, she was probably the only person of her sex in the town who had
ever seen Vesuvius, or planted her eyes on the wonders of a part of
Italy that has a reputation second only to that of Rome. Of course, if
any girl in Porto Ferrajo could imagine the character of the stranger it
must be Ghita; and it was on this supposition that she had unwittingly,
and, if the truth must be owned, unwillingly, collected around her a
_clientelle_ of at least a dozen girls of her own age, and apparently of
her own class. The latter, however, felt no necessity for the reserve
maintained by the curious who pressed near 'Maso; for, while they
respected their guest and friend, and would rather listen to her
surmises than to those of any other person, they had such a prompting
desire to hear their own voices that not a minute escaped without a
question, or a conjecture, both volubly and quite audibly expressed. The
interjections, too, were somewhat numerous, as the guesses were crude
and absurd. One said it was a vessel with despatches from Livorno,
possibly with "His Eccellenza" on board; but she was reminded that
Leghorn lay to the north, and not to the west. Another thought it was a
cargo of priests, going from Corsica to Rome; but she was told that
priests were not in sufficient favor just then in France, to get a
vessel so obviously superior to the ordinary craft of the Mediterranean,
to carry them about. While a third, more imaginative than either,
ventured to doubt whether it was a vessel at all; deceptive appearances
of this sort not being of rare occurrence, and usually taking the aspect
of something out of the ordinary way.
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