"I will do this willingly," replied the Italian, "although I fear that none will give their belief to them, so many, so new, and so extraordinary are they." "Our own adventures and the strange things we have seen, have taught and disposed us to believe anything we may be told, even if it should lean more to the improbable than the probable," answered Periander. "Let us then," said the Italian, "come here alongside of the boat where the ladies are; perhaps the sound of my voice may lull some of them to sleep, and perchance some one from whose eyelids sleep is banished, may show compassion. It is a consolation to feel in relating a history of misfortunes, that others can weep with one." "At least for my part," cried Ricla from the boat, "in spite of sleep, I have tears to offer, and sympathy to give, to your hard fate and the long period of your sorrows." Auristella said the same; so all the party assembled round the boat, and lent an attentive ear to what the seeming barbarian was about to say. He commenced his narrative in the following words. [Illustration] CHAPTER VIII. _In which Rutilio gives an account of his Life._ "My name is Rutilio, my native place Sienna, one of the most famous of Italian cities, my profession that of a dancing-master: I excelled in this, and if I had pleased I might have been fortunate in it. There lived in Sienna a rich gentleman, to whom Heaven had given a daughter, more beautiful than discreet. Her father intended her to marry a Florentine gentleman, and that she might be adorned with every accomplishment that could be acquired, since the gifts of the understanding were wanting, he wished that I should teach her to dance, as grace and elegance of motion is more displayed in modest dances than in anything, and is indispensable for all ladies of quality. I began by teaching her how to move the body, but ended in also moving her heart. She having, as I said before, but little discretion, gave hers to me, and destiny, which then began the long current of my misfortunes, so willed it that I carried her off from her father's house, and we set out intending to go to Rome, that we might enjoy one another's company. But as love does not bestow his favours cheaply, and crimes ever bring punishment in their train (which should always be kept in mind), we were overtaken on the road by her father, so great was the diligence he made to seek for us. Her defence and mine, which was simply that I was carrying off my wife, and her's, that she was going with her husband, was only an aggravation of my crime, which moved and disposed the judge to sentence me to death. I was thrown into prison with those condemned for other crimes more dishonourable than mine. In the prison I was visited by a woman who was accused of "fatucherie," which would in the Castilian tongue be called witchcraft. She had been taken out