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Updated: May 19, 2025


There he was a minute or two since, seated by that cannon, apparently an attentive and much edified auditor of a discussion we were holding on the celebrated theory of a certain bishop of your own country; which theory, rightly considered mind, I say rightly considered neighbor Vito; for the view you have taken of this matter is " "Enough of this, for the present, Signori" added Griffin.

Then, if the theory be true, there is no prisoner at all or, at the most, an imaginary one and it can do Sir Smees no harm to wait; while, on the other hand, I shall not have a moment's peace until I learn whether there is such a man as Vito Viti or not, and whether I am he."

What a rascally philosophy is this! Why, both of us are as bad as this Sir Smees, if what you say be true, vice-governatore or make-believe vice-governatore." "Not an impostor, friend Vito; for there is no real being of thy name, if thou art not he."

"Calm yourself, daughter, and listen to me. I have kept nothing from you a day longer than necessary. The facts that exonerate the Duke of Hereward came to me last of all. Hear me. From Father Garbennetti, the new cure of San Vito, I learned the truth of that miscalled elopement of the late Duchess of Hereward. I learned that in the words of your own charming poet

Vito Viti muttered an answer; for by this time he had discovered that he was a very different personage on board the Proserpine from what the other had appeared to consider him while in his native island.

"And that Elba is not a real island, or Porto Ferrajo a real town; and that even all our iron, of which we seem to send so much about the world, in good, wholesome ships, is only a sort of ghost of solid, substantial metal!" "St, si that everything which appears to be material is, in fact, imaginary; iron, gold, or flesh." "And then I am not Vito Viti, but an impostor?

Vito was five years older than Antonio, and his word had always been law to the younger brother, so although he was sick at heart at the thought of being left behind, he said nothing against the project, but tried to make it easy for Vito with their mother.

Andrea Barrofaldi and Vito Viti remained on board the frigate, inmates of the cabin, and gradually becoming more accustomed to their novel situation. They did not escape the jokes of a man-of-war, but, on the whole, they were well treated, and were tolerably satisfied; more especially as the hope of capturing le Feu-Follet began to revive.

"Who are you?" "I am Vito Torsielli," had answered the stranger. Then the two had rushed into each other's arms. "And what did you do?" inquired Petrosini, as Strollo naïvely concluded this extraordinary story. "Me?" answered Strollo innocently. "Why, there was nothing for me to do, so I went back to New York." Petrosini said nothing, but bided his time.

A little fellow on the back seat saves the day. Up goes his brown fist. "Well, Vito, who is he?" "McKinley!" pipes the lad, who remembers the election just past; and the school adjourns for ice-cream. It is a sight to see them eat it.

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