The other was Prince Paul Fregoso, the most celebrated descendant of that illustrious line, whose doughty deeds are inscribed in the golden book of Genoa's foreign wars, and, alas! in the book of brass devoted to her civil conflicts. The Prince owed his Christian name, Paul, an hereditary one in the family, to the legendary souvenirs of the famous Cardinal Fregoso, who was driven from the city, and ruled the seas for a long time as pirate. This grandnephew of the curious hero was a veritable giant. His features were massive, and his eyes intensely bright. His feet and hands were distorted by gout. In spite of his faded, sordid costume, in spite of the fact that he was almost bent in two and leaned upon his stick, of which the point was protected from slipping by an india-rubber shield, Prince Paul looked every inch a descendant of the doges by his haughty mien. He spoke with a deep, voluminous, cavernous voice, that indicated great vigor even at his advanced time of life, for he was about seventy-nine years of age. "Ladies," he said, "I beg you to excuse me for not having descended this diabolical staircase in order to greet you as I ought to have done. Please do not believe the epigram that our Tuscan enemies have made about us: 'At Genoa there are no birds in the air, the sea has no fish, the mountains are woodless, and the men without politeness.'--You see my birds," and he pointed through the window to the gulls that soared above the port in search of food. "I hope, if you do me the honor of lunching with me, that you will find my mullets are as good as those you get at Leghorn.--And, with your permission, we will go at once into another salon, where there is a fireplace. In that fireplace you will see plenty of wood that comes from my estates outside the Roman gate. With such a north wind we need plenty of warmth in these big halls, which in our fathers' time required only a scaldino.--The first greeting is that due to the health of our guests! Madame la baronne! Madame la marquise! Miss Marsh!"--And he bowed to each of the three ladies, although he did not know either of them, with an indescribable air of easy grace and ceremonious courtesy.--"The abbé will lead the way.--I can only follow you like an unfortunate _gancio di mare_--the deformed, miserable creature you call a crab," he added, addressing Corancez and Hautefeuille. He made them go on before him, and then dragged himself along in their wake with his poor, feeble steps, to a rather smaller salon.