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He had, however, never before put into Leghorn.
After we had arranged that his captain should come to me in the
afternoon and make a formal report of the accident, we went out together
across the white sunny piazza to Nasi's, the well-known pastry-cook's,
where it is the habit of the Livornese to take their ante-luncheon
vermouth.
The more I saw of Hornby, the more I liked him. He was chatty and witty,
and treated his accident as a huge joke.
"We shall be here quite a week, I suppose," he said as we were taking
our vermouth. "We're on our way down to the Greek Islands, as my friend
Chater wants to see them. The engineer says there's something strained
that we must get mended. But, by the way," he added, "why don't you dine
with us on board to-night? Do. We can give you a few English things that
may be a change to you."
This invitation I gladly accepted for two reasons. One was because the
suspicions of the Captain of the Port had aroused my curiosity, and the
other was because I had, honestly speaking, taken a great fancy to
Hornby.


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