antique?" said he, with a smile; "they are as common as pebbles on this
road."

"No," replied Zicci; "it was but one of those antiques that have their
date, indeed, from the beginning of the world, but which Nature
eternally withers and renews." So saying, he showed Glyndon a small
herb with a pale blue flower, and then placed it carefully in his bosom.

"You are an herbalist?"

"I am."

"It is, I am told, a study full of interest."

"To those who understand it, doubtless. But," continued Zicci, looking
up with a slight and cold smile, "why do you linger on your way to
converse with me on matters in which you neither have knowledge nor
desire to obtain it? I read your heart, young Englishman: your
curiosity is excited; you wish to know me, and not this humble herb.
Pass on; your desire never can be satisfied."

"You have not the politeness of your countrymen," said Glyndon, somewhat
discomposed. "Suppose I were desirous to cultivate your acquaintance,
why should you reject my advances?"

"I reject no man's advances," answered Zicci. "I must know them, if
they so desire; but me, in return, they can never comprehend. If you
ask my acquaintance, it is yours; but I would warn you to shun me."

"And why are you then so dangerous?"