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Crawford, F. Marion (Francis Marion), 1854-1909

"Marietta A Maid of Venice"

"
"Perhaps!" repeated Aristarchi, still hanging by his hands. "Do you
think I shall wait all day?"
"I do not know. That is your affair."
"Precisely. And I do not mean to wait."
"Then go away."
But the Greek had come on an exploring expedition in which he had
nothing to lose. Hauling himself up a little higher, till his mouth was
close to the grating, he hailed the house as he would have hailed a ship
at sea, in a voice of thunder.
"Ahoy there! Is any one within? Ahoy! Ahoy!"
This was more than the porter's equanimity could bear. He looked about
for a weapon with which to attack the Greek's face through the bars,
heaping, upon him a torrent of abuse in the meantime.
"Son of dogs and mules!" he cried in a rising growl. "Ill befall the
foul souls of thy dead and of their dead before them."
"Ahoy--oh! Ahoy!" bellowed the Greek, who now thoroughly enjoyed the
situation.
The boatman, anxious for drink money, and convinced that his huge
employer would get the better of the porter, had obligingly gone down
upon his hands and knees, thrusting his broad back under the captain's
feet, so that Aristarchi stood upon him and was now prepared to prolong
the interview without any further effort. His terrific shouts rang
through the corridor to the garden.


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