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THE LION OF ST. MARK.

^^^fflpc^^

< rCMOH. POLA.NI ACCOMPANIES FRANCIS TO THE STEPS.

THE LION OF ST. MAKE

A STORY OP VENICE
IN THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY.

G. A. HENTY,

Author of "Bonnie Prince Charlie;" " For the Temple;" " By Sheer Pluckt"
"With cure in India;" *o.

WITH EIGHT FULL-PAGE ILLVSTRATIONa
BY GORDON BROWNS.

GLASGOW:
BLACKIE & SON, Limitbd.

TORONTO:
WILLIAM BRIGGS, 29-33 Richmond St. West.
Thb OOPP, CLARK COMPANY, Limited, 9 Front St. Wiro.

£mTS G^

'L5

Emtbmd Moordingr to Act of the PMrliunent of Canada, in the year one
thousand eight hundred and ninety-aeven, by BLAOKn k Son, Limited, at the
Department of Agrioulture.

PEEFACE.

Of all the chapters of history there are few more in-
teresting or wonderful than that which tells the story of the
rise and progress of Vynice. Built upon a few sandy islands in
a shallow lagoon, and originally founded by fugitives from the
mainland, Venice became one of the greatest and most respected
powers of Europe. She was mistress of the sea; conquered
and ruled over a considerable territory bordering on the Adri-
atic; checked the rising power of the Turks; conquered Con-
stantinople; successfully defied all the attacks of her jealous
rivals to shake her power; and carried on a trade relatively
as great as that of England in the present day. I have laid
my story in the time not of the triumphs of Venice, but of her
hardest struggle for existence — when she defended herself
successfully against the coalition of Hungary, Padua, and
Genoa — for never at any time were the virtues of Venice, her
steadfastness, her patriotism, and her willingness to make all
sacrifice for her independence more brilliantly shown. The
historical portion of the story is drawn from Hazlitt's History
of the Republic of Venice, and with it I have woven the adven-
tures of an English boy endowed with a full share of that energy
and pluck which, more than any other qualities, have made
the British empire the greatest the world has ever seeiL

a A. HENTY.

CONTENTS.

Chap. '•age

T. Venice, 11

n. A Conspiracy, 27

III. On the GiiANi) Canal 46

IV. Carried ofk 64

V. Finding a Clue 83

VI. The Hut on San Nicolo 102

VII. On Board a Trader 121

VIII. An Attack by Pirates, 140

IX. The Capture op the "Lido," 159

X. Recaptured ^ 179

XL The Battle op Antium 198

XII. In Mocenigo's Power 218

XIII. The Pirates' Raid, 236

XIV. The End of the Per8?;cutor, 254

XV. The Battle op Pola, 272

XVI. The Recapture of the "Pluto," ........ 290

XVII. An Ungrateful Republic 310

XVIII. The Release of Pisani 328

XIX. The Siege of Chioggia, 349

XX. The Tbiumfh of Venice, 370

ILLUSTRATIONS.

Page

SiGNOR POLAKI ACCOMPANIES FbaNCIS TO THB StBPS, . Frmtis. 54
ThB CrbTW op THB "BONITO" 8HELTEBIN0 FROM THB PiRATES'

Arrows, 148

The "Lido" recaptured bt Francis and Mattbo, ... . 170
Francis in the Power of the Pirate Ruggiero, .... 226

Francis brought befobe his savage Captob, 238

Philippo the Jaileb mastered by his P'^sonbb, . . . . 241

Death of the Pibate Ruggiero Mocenigo,

260

Francis tells Signob Polani what he wishes for, , . .880

■.■;.'.uf^n^sMtifti>tlr»:ilt ■■

THE LION OF ST. MARK.

CHAPTER I.

VENICE.

SUPPOSE you never have such nights as these in
that misty island of yours, Francisco?"

"Yes, we have," the other said stoutly. "I
have seen just as bright nights on the Thames.
I have stood down by Paul's Stairs and watched the reflection
of the moon on the water, and the lights of the houses on the
bridge, and the passing boats, just as we are doing now. But,"
he added honestly, " I must confess that we do not have such
still bright nights very often, while with you they are the rule,
though sometimes even here a mist rises up and dims the water
just as it does with us."

" But I have heard you say that the stars are not so bright
as we have them here."

" No, I do not think they are, Matteo. I do not remember
now, but I do know when I first came here I was struck with
the brightness of the stars, so I suppose there must have been
a difference."

"But you like this better than England? You are glad that
your father came out here?"

OLD MEMORISa

Francis Hammond did not answer at once.

"I am glad I-e uame out," he said after a pause, "because I
have seen many things I should never have seen if I had stayed
at home, and I have learned to speak your tongue. But I do
not know that I like it better than home. Things are different,
you see. There was more fun at home. My father had two
or three apprentices whom I used to play with when the shop
was closed, and there were often what you would call tumults,
but which were not serious. Sometimes there would be a fight
between the apprentices of one ward and another, a shout would
be raised of 'Clubs!' and all the 'prentices would catch up their
sticks and pour out of the shops, and then there would be
a fight till the city guard turned out and separated them.
Then there used to be the shooting at the butts, and the
shows, and the Mayday revels, and all sorts of things. The
people were more merry than you are here, and much more
free. You see, the barons, who are the same to us that your
great families are to you, had no influence in the city. You
are a nation of traders, and so are we; but in London the
traders have the power, and are absolute masters inside their
own walls, caring nothing for the barons, and not much for
the king. If anyone did wrong he got an open and fair trial.
There was no fear of secret accusations. Everyone thought
and said as he pleased. There was no Lion's Mouth, and no
Council of Ten."

" Hush ! hush ! Francisco," the other said, grasping his arm.
" Do not say a word against the council. There is no saying
who may be listening." And he looked nervously round to see
if anyone was within earshot

" There it is, you see," his companion said. " So long as we
have a safe conscience in London we are frightened at nothing,
whereas he»re no one can say with certainty that he may not
before to-morrow morning be lying ip the duDgec^ of St

6N THB PIAZ2A.

Mark without the sh'ghtest idea in the world as to what his
crime has been."

"There, there, Francisco," Matteo said uneasily; "do talk
about other things. Your notions may do very well in Eng-
land, but are not safe to discuss here. Of course there are
plenty here who would gladly see a change in some matters,
but one cannot have everything; and, after all, when one has
so much to be proud of, one need not grumble because every-
thing is not just as one would like."

" Yes, you have much to be proud of," Francis Hammond
agreed. " It is marvellous that the people of these scattered
islets should be masters of the sea, that their alliance should
be coveted by every power in Europe, that they should be the
greatest trading community in the world. If I were not
English I should like to be Venetian."

The speakers were standing at the edge of the water in front
of the Palace of St. Mark. In the piazza behind them a throng
of people were walking to and fro, gossiping over the latest
news from Constantinople, the last rumour as to the doings of
the hated rival of Venice, Genoa, or the purport of the letter
which had, as everyone knew, been brought by the Bishop of
Treviso from the pope to the seignory.

The moon was shining brightly overhead, and glittering in
the waters of the lagoon, which were broken into innumerable
little wavelets by the continual crossing and recrossing of the
gondolas dotting its surface. There was a constant arrival and
departure of boats from the steps, fifty yards to the right of the
spot where the speakers were standing; but where they had
stationed themselves, about half-way between the landing-steps
and the canal running down by the side of the ducal palace,
there were but few people about.

Francis Hammond was a lad between fifteen and sixteen
^enxs did. His father was a merchant of London; He was

AN ENGLISH MERCHANT.

a man of great enterprise and energy, and had four years
before determined to leave his junior partner in charge of the
business in London, and to come out himself for a time to
Venice so as to buy the Eastern stuffs in which he dealt at the
head-quarters of the trade instead of paying such prices as the
agents of the Venetian traders might demand in London. Ho
had succeeded beyond his expectations. In Venice there were
constantly bargains to be purchased from ships returning laden
with the spoils of some captured Genoese merchantman or
taken in the sack of some Eastern seaport. The prices too
asked by the traders with the towns of Syria or the Black
Sea were but a fraction of those charged when these goods
arrived in London.

It was true that occasionally some of his cargoes were lost
on the homeward voyage, captured either by the Genoese or
the Moorish pirates; but even allowing for this, the profits of
the trade were excellent. The English merchant occupied a
good position in Venice. The promptness of his payments and
the integrity of his dealings made him generally respected, and
the fact that he was engaged in trade was no drawback to his
social position in a city in which, of all others, trade was con-
sidered honourable, and where members of even the most
aristocratic families were, with scarcely an exception, engaged
in commerce.

There were many foreign merchants settled in Venice, for
from the first the republic had encouraged strangers to take
up their residence there, and had granted them several privi-
leges and advantages. Between Venice and England there
had always been good feeling. Although jealous of foreigners,
England had granted the Venetians liberty to trade in London,
Southampton, and some other towns as far back as the year
1304, and their relations had always been cordial, as there
were no grounds for jealousy or rivalry between the two

THE RISE OF VBNICB.

peoples; whereas the interference of France, Germany, Austria,
and Hungary in the affairs of Italy had frequently caused
uneasiness to Venice, and had on several occasions embroiled
her with one or other of the three last-named powers.

France had as yet taken a very minor part in the continual
wars which were waged between the rival cities of Italy, and
during the Crusades there had been a close alliance between
her and Venice, the troops of the two nations fighting together
at the siege of Constantinople, and causing the temporary over-
throw of the Greek Empire of the East.

The rise of Venice had been rapid, and she owed her advance-
ment to a combination of circumstances. In the first place, her
insular position rendered her almost impervious to attack, and
she had therefore no occasion to keep on foot any army, and was
able to throw all her strength on to the sea, where Genoa was
her only formidable rival.

In the second place, her mercantile spirit and her extensive
trade with the East brought in a steady influx of wealth, and
her gold enabled her to purchase allies, to maintain lengthy
struggles without faltering, and to emerge unscathed from
wars which exhausted the resources and crippled the powers of
her rivals. The third source of her success lay in the spirit of
her populatioa Like Kome in her early days, she was never
cast down by reverses. Misfortune only nerved her to further
exertions, and after each defeat she rose stronger than before.
But the cause which more than all contributed to give to Venice
her ascendency among the cities of Italy was her form of
government.

Democratic at first, as among all communities, it had gradu-
ally assumed the character of a close oligarchy, and although
nominally ruled by a council containing a large number of
members, her destinies were actually in the hands of the Doge,
elected for life, and the Council of Ten, chosen from the great

A WKLL-GOVl&RNED STATIL

body of the council Thus she had ft ^m the first been free
from bhose factions which were the bane of Genoa and
Florence. Some of the great families had from time to time
come more prominently to the front than others, but none had
attained predominant political power, and beyond a few street
tumults of slight importance Venice had not suffered from the
popular tumults and uprisings which played so prominent a
part in the history of her rivals.

Thus, undisturbed by discord at home, Venice had been able
to give all her attention and all her care to her interests
abroad, and her affairs, conducted as they were by her wisest
citizens, with a single eye to the benefit of the state, had been
distinguished by a rare sagacity. Her object had been single
and uniform, to protect her own interests and to prevent
any one city on the mainland attaining such a preponderance
as would render her a dangerous neighbour. Hence she
was always ready to ally herself with the weaker against the
stronger, and to aid with money and men any state struggling
against an ambitious neighbour.

Acting on this principle she by turns assisted Padua against
Verona and Verona against Padua, or either of them when
threatened by the growing power of Milan, and at the end of a
war she generally came out with an increased territory and
added importance. It is probable that no community was ever
governed for hundreds of years with such uniform wisdom and
sagacity as was Venice; but the advantage was not without
drawbacks. The vigilance of the Council of Ten in repressing
plots, not unfrequently set on foot by the enemies of the
republic, resulted in the adoption of a hateful system of
espionage. The city was pervaded with spies, and even secret
denunciations were attended to, and the slightest expression of
discontent agcinst the ruling authorities was severely punished.

On the other hand comparatively slight attention was paid

THA square OV ST. HARK.

to private crime. Assassinations were of frequent occurrence,
and unless the victim happened to be very powerfully con-
nected no notice was taken when a man was found to be
missing from his usual place, and his corpse was discovered
floating in the lagoon. Consequently crimes of this kind were
in the great majority of cases committed with impunity, and
even when traced the authors, ii possessed of powerful pro-
tectors, seldom sutfere'' any greater punishment than temporary
banishment.

After standing for some time on the Piazzetta the two lads
turned, and entering the square of St Mark mingled with the
crowd. It was a motley one. Nobles in silks and satins
jostled with fishermen of the lagoons. Natives of all the coasts
and islands which owned the sway of Venice, Greeks from
Constantinople, Tartar merchants from the Crimea, Tyrians,
and inhabitants of the islands of the ^gean, were present in
considerable numbers; while among the crowd vendors of fruit
and flowers from the mainland, and of fresh water or cooling
drinks, sold their wares. The English lad's companion —
Matteo Giustiniani — belonged to one of the leading families of
Venice, and was able to name to Francis most of the nobles
and persons of importance whom they passed.

"There is Pisani," he said; "of courp-^ vqu know him; what
a jolly, good-tempered looking fellow ht ; The sailors would
do anything for him, and they say he will have command of
the next fleet that puts to sea. I wish I was going with him,
there is sure to be a fierce fight when he comes across the
Genoese; his father was one of our greatest admirals. That
noble just behind him is Fiofio Dandolo: what a grand family
they have been, what a number of great men they have given
to the republic ! I should like to have seen the grand old
Doge who stormed the walls of Constantinople, and divided
the Eastern empire among the crusading barons. He was a

(458) B

A GRAVE ACCUSATION.

hero indeed. No; I don't know who that young noble in the
green velvet cap and plum-coloured dress is. yes, I do,
though; it is Ruggiero Mocenigo; he has been away for the
last two years at Constantinople; he was banished for having
killed Polo Morosini — he declared it was in fair tight, but no
one believed him. They had quarrelled a few days before over
some question of the precedence of their families, and JMorosini
was found dead at the top of the steps close to the church of St
Paolo. Some people heard a cry and ran up just as Mocenigo
leapt into his gondola, but as it rowed off their shouts called the
attention of one of the city guard boats which happened to be
passing, and it was stopped. As his sword was still wet with
blood he could not deny that he was the author of the deed,
but, as I said, he declared it was in fair fight. The Morosinis
asserted that Polo's sword was undrawn, but the Mocenigo
family brought forward a man who swore that he was one of
the first to arrive and pick up the sword and place it in its
scabbard to prevent its being lost. No doubt he lied ; but as
Mocenigo's influence in the council was greater than tiiat of the
Morosini, the story was accepted; however, the public feeling
was so strong that they could not do less than sentence Ruggiero
to two years' banishment. I suppose that has just expired, and
he has returned from Constantinople; he had a bad reputation
before this affair took place, but as his connections are so power-
ful, I suppose he will be received as if nothing had happened.
There are plenty of others as bad as he is."

" It's a scandalous thing," Francis Hammond said indig-
nantly, "that, just because they have got powerful connections,
men should be allowed to do, almost with impunity, things for
which an ordinary man would be hung; there ought to be
one law for the rich as well as the poor."

" So there is as far as the state is concerned," his companion
replied; '^' a noble who plots against the state is as certain of

lARLT HOURS.

the

do,

the
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indig-
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It to be

ipanion
attain of

A place in the lowest dungeons as a fisherman who has done
the same; but in other respects there is naturally some differ*
ence."

" Why naturally t " Francis retorted. " You belong to a
powerful family, Giustiniani, and my father is only a trader,
but I don't see that naturally you have any more right to get
me stabbed in the back, than I have to get you put out of
the way."

" Naturally perhaps not," Matteo laughed ; " but you see it
has become a second nature to us here in Venice. But seriously
I admit that the present state of things has grown to be a
scandal, and that the doings of some of our class ought to be
put down with a strong hand."

"Well, I shall say good-night now," the English boy said;
" my father doesn't like my being out after ten ; he keeps up
his English habits of shutting up early, and has not learned to
turn night into day as you do here in Venice."

" The bell has just tolled the hour, Francis," his father said
as he entered.

" I didn't think it was quite so late, father; the Piazza is
crowded. I really do not think there is one person in Venice
who goes to bed so early as we do. It is so pleasant in the
moonlight after the heat of the day."

" That is true enough, Francis, but men are meant to sleep
at night and to work in the day. I think our fathers carried
this too far when they rang the curfew at eight; but ten is
quite late enough for any honest man to be about in the streets,
and the hours of the early morning are just as pleasant and
far more healthy than those of the evening, especially in a
place like this where the mists rise from the water, to say
nothing of the chance of meeting a band of wild gallants on
their way homewards heated with wine, or of getting a stab in
the back from some midnight assassin. However, I do not

A ynW FROM A WINDOW.

blame Venice for enjoying herself while she can; she will have
more serious matters to attend to ooon."

" But she is at peace with every one at present, father. I
thought when she signed the treaty with Austria after a; year's
fighting, she was going to have rest for a tima"

" That was only the beginning of the trouble, Francis, and
the council knew it well ; that was why they madp such terms
with Austria as they did. They knew that Austria was only
acting in accord with Hungary, and Padua, and Genoa; the
others were not ready to begin, so Austria came on her own
account to get what booty and plunder she could; but the
storm is gathering, and will burst before long. But do not let
us stand talking here any longer, it is high time for you to be
in bed."

But though Francis retired to his room it was more than an
hour before he got into bed. His window looked down upon one
of the canals running into the Grand Canal. Gondolas lighted
by lanterns, or by torches held by servitors, passed constantly
backwards and forwards beneath his window, and by leaning
out he could see the passing lights of those on the Grand
Canal. Snatches of song and laughter came up to him, and
sometimes the note of a musical instrument. The air was
soft and balmy, and he felt no inclination for sleep.

Francis thought over what his father had said of the
probability of war as he sat at his window, and wished that
he were a couple of years older and could take part in the
struggle. The Venetian fleet had performed such marvels of
valour, that, in the days when military service was almost the
sole avenue to distinction and fortune, the desire to take part
in a naval expedition which promised unusual opportunities
of gaining credit and renown was the most natural thing
possible for a boy of spirit.

Francis was a well-built lad of nearly sixteen; he had, until

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AN ENOUSH boy's TRAINING.

he left London when about twelve years old, taken his full
share in the rough sports which formed so good a training for
the youths of England, and in which the citizens of London
were in no way behind the rest of the kingdom. He had
practised shooting with a light bow and arrows in company
with boys of his own age in the fields outside the city walls;
had engaged in many a rough tussle with light clubs and
quarter-statfs ; and his whole time — except for an hour or two
daily which he had, as the son of a well-to-do citizen, spent in
learning to read and write — had been occupied in games and
exercises of one kind or other.

Since his arrival in Venice ho had not altogether discon-
tinued his former habits. At his earnest solicitation his
father had permitted him to attend the School of Arms, where
the sons of patricians and well-to-do merchants learned the use
of sword and dagger, to hurl the javelin, and wield the mace
and battle-axe; and was, besides, a frequenter of some of the
schools where old soldiers gave private lessons in arms to such
as could afford it; and the skill and strength of the English
lad excited no slight envy among the young Venetian nobles.
Often too he would go out to one of the sandy islets, and
there setting up a mark, practise with the bow; his muscles,
too, had gained strength and hardness by rowing.

It was his constant habit of an evening when well away from
the crowded canals in the gondola, with Giuseppi, the son and
assistant of his father's gondolier, to take an oar, for he had
thoroughly mastered the difficult accomplishment of rowing
well in a gondola ; but he only did this when far out from the
city, or when the darkness of evening would prevent his figure
from being recognized by any of his acquaintances, for no
Venetian of good family would demean himself by handling an
oar. Francis, however, accustomed to row upon the Thames,
could see no reason why he should not do the same in a gondola,

A NEW GONDOLA.

and in time he and his companion could send the boat dancing
over the water at a rate which enabled them to overtake and
distance most pair-oared boats.

After breakfast next morning he went down to the steps
where Beppo and Giuseppi, in their black cloth suits with red
sashes round their waists, were waiting with the gondola in
which Mr. Hammond was going out to Malamocco to examine
a cargo which had the day before arrived from Azoph.
Giuseppi jumped ashore.

"I have heard of just the gondola to suit you, Messer
Francisco, and you can get her a bargain."

"What is she like, Giuseppil"

" She belongs to a man out at Lido. She was built for the
race two years ago, but her owner fell sick and was unable to
start; he has not got strong again, and wants to sell his boat,
which is far too light for ordinary work; they say she is almost
like an egg-shell, and you and I will be able to send her along
grandly. She cost four ducats, but he will sell her for two."

" That is capital, Giuseppi ; this gondola is all well enough
for my father, but she is very heaw. This evening we will
row over to Lido and look at her."

A few minutes later Mr. Hammond came down, Beppo and
his son took off their jackets, and in their snow-white shirts
and black trousers, set off by the red scarf and a red ribbon
round their broad hats, took their places on the bow and stern.
Mr. Hammond sat down on the cushions in the middle of the
boat, and with an easy noiseleKs motion the gondola glided away
from the stairs. Francis, with a little sigh, turned away and
strolled off for a couple of hours' work with the preceptor with
whom he had continued his studies since he came to Venice.

This work consisted chiefly of learning various languages, for
in those days there was little else to learn. Latin was almost
uniTersally spoken by educated men in southern Europe, and

5
-^

.^^ftMeaiiJM

MATTEO'S OPINION.

Greeks, Italians, Spaniards, and Frenchmen were able to converse
in this common medium. French, Francis understood, for it was
the language in use in the court and among the upper classes in
England. Italian he picked up naturally during his residence,
and spoke it with the facility of a native. He could now converse
freely in Latin, and had some knowledge of German. At the
same school were many lads of good Venetian families, and it
was here that he had first made ^he acquaintance of Matteo
Giustiniani, who was now his most intimate friend. Matteo,
like all the young nobles of Venice^ was anxious to excel in
military exercises, but he had none of the ardour for really hard
work which distinguished his friend. He admired the latter's
strength and activity, but could not bring himself to imitate
him in the exercises by which that strength was attained, and
had often remonstrated with him upon his fondness for rowing.

" It is not seemly, Francisco, for a gentleman to be labouring
like a common gondolier; these men are paid for doing it; but
what pleasure there can be in standing up working that oar till
you are drenched with perspiration I cannot understand. I
don't mind getting hot in the School of Arms, because one can-
not learn to use the sword and dagger without it, but that's
quite another thing from tugging at an oar."

" But I like it, Matteo; and see how strong it has made my
muscles, not of the arm only, but the leg and back. You often
say you envy me my strength, but you might be just as strong
if you chose to work as I do ; besides it is delightful, when you
are accustomed to it, to feel the gondola flying away under
your stroke."

" I prefer feeling it fly away under some one else's stroke,
Francisco. That is pleasant enough, I grant ; but the very
thought of working as you do throws me into a perspiration.
I should like to be as strong as you are, but to work as a
gondolier is too high a price to pay for it"

A RACING CRATT.

That evening Francis crossed the lagoon in the gondola with
Giuseppi to inspect the boat he had heard of. It was just
what he wanted. In appearance it differed in no way from an
ordinary gondola, but it was a mere shell. The timbers and
planking were extremely light, and the weight of the boat
was little more than a third of that of other craft. She had
been built like a working gondola, instead of in the form of
those mostly used for racing, because her owner had intended,
after the race was over, to plank her inside and strengthen her for
everyday work; but the race had never come off, and the boat
lay just as she had come from the hands of her builder, except
that she had been painted black, like other gondolas, to prevent
her planks from opening. When her owner had determined
to part with her he had given her a fresh coat of paint, and
had put her in the water that her seams might close up.

"I don't like parting with her," the young fisherman to
whom she belonged said. " I tried her once or twice and she
went like the wind, but I got fever in my bones and I am
unlikely to race again, and the times are hard, and I must part
with her."

Francis and Giuseppi gave her a trial, and were delighted
with the speed and ease with which she flew through the water.
On their return Francis at once paid the price asked for her
His father made him a handsome allowance in order that he
might be able to mix without discomfort with the lads of good
family whom he met at his preceptor's and at the schools of
arms. But Francis did not care for strolling in the Piazza, or
sitting for hours sipping liquors; still less did he care for dress
or finery; consequently he had always plenty of money to in-
dulge in his own special fancies. As soon as the bargain was
completed Giuseppi took his place in the old gondola, while
Francis took the oar in his new acquisition, and found to his
satisfaction that with scarcely an effort he could dart ahead of

.^vAtMuiJWMlMUlai''*

"YOUNG PEOPLE ALWAYS WANT TO GO FAST."

his companion and leave him far behind. By nightfall the two
gondolas were fastened side by side behind the gaily-paintdd
posts which, in almost all Venetian houses, are driven into the
canal close to the steps, and behind which the gondolas
belonging to the house lie safe from injury by passing craft.

"I have bought another gondola, father," Francis said the
next morning. " She is a very light, fast craft, and I got her
cheap."

" I don't see what you wanted another gondola for, Francis.
I do not use mine very much, and you are always welcome to
take it when I do not want it."

" Yes, father, but you often use it in the evening, and that
is just the time when one wants to go out. You very often
only take Beppo with you when you do not go on business, and
I often want a boat that I could take with Giuseppi; besides,
your gondola is a very solid one, and I like passing people."

" Young people always want to go fast," Mr. Hammond said,
"why, I can't make out. However, Francis, I am not sorry that
you have got a boat of your own, for it has happened several
times lately that when in the evening I have gone down intend-
ing to row round to the Piazetta I have found the boat gone, and
have had to walk. Now I shall be able to rely on finding Beppo
asleep in the boat at the steps. In future, since you have a
boat of your own, I shall not be so particular as to your being
in at ten. I do not so much mind your being out on the water,
only you must promise me that you will not be in the streets
after that hour. There are frequent broils as the evening gets
on, not to mention the danger of cut-throats in unfrequented
lanes; but if you .will promise me that you will never be about
the streets after half-past nine I will give you leave to stay out on
the water till a later hour ; but when you come in late be careful
always to close and bar the door, and do not make more noise
than you can help in coming up to your room."

A CONCESSION.

Francis was much pleased with this concession, for the
obligation to return at ten o'clock, just when the temperature
was most delightful and the Grand Canal at its gayest, had been
very irksome* to him. As to the prohibition against being in the
streets of Venice after half-past nine he felt that no hardship
whatever, as he found no amusement in strolling in the crowded
Piazza*

',^*^v.l.-»fa-.«<tat/*

ire

jen

the

hip

ded

1^^^^

^^©^

^^^^^

CHAPTER IL

A CONSPIRACY.

HO are those ladies, Matteo?" Francis asked his
friend one evening, as the latter, who was sitting
with him in his gondoia while Giuseppi rowed
them along the Grand Canal, half rose and
saluted two girls in a passing gondola.

"They are distant cousins of mine, Maria and Giulia
Polani; they only returned a short time since from Corfu.
Their father is one of the richest merchants of our city, he has
for the last three years been living in Corfu, which is the head-
quarters of his trade. The family is an old one, and has given
doges to Venice. They are two of our richest heiresses, for
they have no brothers. Their mother died soon after the birth
of Giulia."

" They both look very young," Francis said.

" Maria is about sixteen, her sister two years younger.
There will be no lack of suitors for their hands, for although
the family is not politically powerful, as it used to be, their
wealth would cause them to be gladly received in our very first
families."

" Who was the middle-aged lady sitting between themi"

" She is only their duenna," Matteo said carelessly. " She
has been with them since they were children, and their father
places great confidence in her. And he had need to, for Maria

aaaaamm

iii

28 "IT IS ALWAYS USEFUL TO HAVE A FAST BOAT."

will ere long be receiving bouquets and perfumed notes from
many a young gallant."

"I can quite fancy that," Francis said, "for she is very pretty
as well as very rich, and, as far as I have observed, the two
things do not go very often together. However, no doubt by
this time her father has pretty well arranged in his mind whom
she is to marry."

" I expect so," agreed Matteo.

"That is the worst of being bom of good family; you have got
to marry some one of your father's choice, not your own, and that
choice is determined simply by the desire to add to the political
influence of the family, to strengthen distant ties, or to obtain
powerful connections. I suppose it is the same everywhere,
Matteo, but I do think that a man or woman ought to have
some voice in a matter of such importance to them."

" I think so too at the present time," Matteo laughed; "but
I don't suppose that I shall be of that opinion when I have
a family of sons and daughters to marry. This gondola of
yours must be a fast one indeed, Francisco, for with only one
rower sho keeps up with almost all the pair-oared boats, and
your boy is not exerting himself to the utmost either."

" She can fly along, I can tell you, Matteo. You shall come
out in her some evening when Giuseppi and I both take oars.
I have had her ten days now, and we have not come across
anything that can hold her for a moment."

" It is always useful," Matteo said, " to have a fast boat.
It is invaluable in case you have been getting into a scrape
and have one of the boats of the city watch in chase of you."

" I hope I sha'n't want it for any purpose of that sort,"
Francis answered, laughing. " I do not think 1 am likely to
give cause to the city watch to chase me."

"I don't think you are, Francisco, but there is never any
Baying."

"but

come

oars.

across

boat,
scrape
you."

sort,"
kely to

A FARB.

'*At anyrate it is always useful to be able to go fast if
necessary, and if we did want to get away I do not think there
are many pair-oared gondolas afloat that would overtake us,
though a good four-oar might do so. Giuseppi and I are so
accustomed to each other's stroke now that though in a heavy
boat we might not be a match for two men, in a light craft
like this, where weight does not count for so much, we would not
mind entering her for a race against the two best gondoliers
on the canals in an ordinary boat."

A few evenings later Francis was returning homewards at
about half-past ten, when, in passing along a quiet canal, the
boat was hailed from the shore.

" Shall we take him, Messer Francisco 1" Giuseppi asked in a
low voice; for more than once they had late in the evening
taken a fare.

Francis rowed, like Giuseppi, in his shirt, and in the dark-
ness they were often taken for a pair-oared gondola on the
look-out for a fare. Francis had sometimes accepted the ofier,
because it was an amusement to see where the passenger
wished to go — to guess whether he was a lover hastening to
keep an appointment, a gambler on a visit to some quiet
locality where high play went on unknown to the authorities,
or simply one who had by some error missed his own gondola
and was anxious to return home. It made no difference to him
which way he rowed; it was always possible that some adven-
ture was to be met with, and the fare paid was a not unwel-
come addition to Giuseppi's funds. ■>

"Yes, we may as well take hiin," he replied to Giuseppi's
question.

"You are in no hurry to get to bed, I suppose?" the man
who had hailed them said as the boat drew up against the wall
of the canal.

" It does not make much difference to us if we are well paid

...

I il

A LONG ROWr

to keep awake," Giuseppi said. Upon such occasions he was
always the spokesman.

"You knoM San Nicolol"

"Yes, I know it," Giuseppi said; "but it is a long row —
six miles, if it's a foot."

"You will have to wait there for an hour or two, but I will
give you half a ducat for your night's work."

"What do you say, paitiierl" Giuseppi asked Francis.

"We may as well go," the lad replied after a moment's pause.

The row was certainly a long one, but the night was delight-
ful, and the half ducat was a prize for Giuseppi; but what
influenced Francis principally in accepting was curiosity. San
Nicolo was a little sandy islet lying quite on the outside of the
group of islands. It was inhabited only by a few fishermen;
and Francis wondered that a man, evidently by his voice and
manner of address belonging to the upper class, should want to
go to such a place as this at this hour of the night. Certainly
no ordinary motives could actuate him. As the stranger took
his place in the boat Francis saw by the light of the stars that
he was masked; but there was nothing very unusual in this, as
masks were not unfrequently worn at night by young gallants
when engaged on any frolic in which they wished their identity
to be unrecognized. Still it added to the interest of the trip;
and dipping his oar in the water he set out at a slow, steady
stroke well within his power. He adopted this partly in view
of the length of the row before them, partly because the idea
struck him that it might be as well that their passenger should
not suspect that the boat was other than an ordinary gondola.
The passenger, however, was well satisfied with the speed, for
they passed two or three other gondolas before issuing from the
narrow canals and starting across the broad stretch of the
lagoon. Not a word was spoken until the gondola neared its
destination. Then the passenger said :

AT SAN NIOOLO.

e trip;
Isteady
view
le idea
Ishould
»ndola.
|ed, for
>in the
»f the
•ed its

"You row welL If you like the job I may employ you
again."

"We are always ready to earn money," Francis said, speak-
ing in a gruflF voice quite unlike his own.

"Very well I will let you know, as we return, what night
I shall want you again. I suppose you can keep your mouths
shut on occasion, and can go without gossiping to your fellows
as to any job on which you are employed?"

"We can do that," Francis said. " It's no matter to us where
our customers want to go if they are willing to pay for it;
and as to gossiping, there is a saying, 'A silver gag is the best
for keeping the mouth closed.'"

A few minutes later the bow of the gondola ran up on the
sandy shore of San Nicolo. The stranger made his way for-
ward and leapt out, and with the words, "It may be two hours
before I am back," walked rapidly away.

"Why, Messer Francisco," Giuseppi said when their passen-
ger was well out of hearing, "what on earth possessed you to
accept a fare to such a place as this] Of course, for myself, I
am glad enough to earn half a ducat, which will buy me a new
jacket with silver buttons for the next festa; but to make such
a journey as this was too much, and it will be very late before
we are back. If the padrone knew it he would be very
angry."

" I didn't do it to enable you to earn half a ducat, Giuseppi,
although I am glad enough you should do so; but I did it
because it seemed to promise the chance of an adventure.
There must be somethiiii' in this. A noble — for I have

doubt he is one — would never be coming out to San Nicolo at
this time of night without some very strong motive. There
can be no rich heiress whom he might want to carry off living
here, so that can't be what he has come for. I think there
must be some secret meeting, for as we came across the lagoon

I I

II i

iii

M A FOOUSB DETERMINATION.

I saw one or two boats in the distance heading in this direction.
Anyhow, I mean to try and find out what it all means."

"You had better not, sir," Giusep])i said earnestly. "If
there is any plot on foot we had best not get mixed up in
it. No one is too high or too low to escape the vengeance of
the council if found plotting against the state ; and before now
gondolas staved in and empty have been found drifting on the
lagoons, and the men who rowed them have never been heard
of again. Once in the dungeons of St. Mark it would be of
no use to plead that you had entered into the affair simply for
the amusement. The fact that you were not a regular boatman
would make the matter all the worse, and the maxim that
'dead men tell no tales' is largely acted upon in Venice. I
think, sir, the best plan will be to row straight back, and leave
our fare to find his way home as best he may."

" I mean to find something out about it if I can, Giuseppi.
A state secret may be dangerous, but it may be valuable. Any-
how there can be no great risk in it. On the water I think we
can show our heels to anyone who chases us; and once in
Venice, we are absolutely safe, for no one would suspect a gon-
dola of Mr. Hammond, the English merchant, of having any
connection with a hired craft with its two gondoliers."

"That is true enough, sir; but I don't like it for all that.
However, if you have made up your mind to it there is nothing
more to be said."

"Very well. You stay here, and I will go and look round.
You had better get the gondola afloat and be ready to start at
the instant, so that, if I should have to run for it, I can jump
on board and be off in a moment."

Francis made his way quietly up to the little group of huts
inhabited by the fishermen, but in none of them could he see
any signs of life — no lights were visible, nor could he hear the
murmur of voices. There were, he knew, other buildings scat-

A USELESS SEARCH.

stion.

"If

up in
tice of
e now
)n the
heard
be of

[)ly for
»atman
n that
ice. I
d leave

luseppi.
. Any-
link we
)nce in
a gon-
ng any

1 that,
nothing

round,
start at
in jump

of huts
1 he see
hear the

gs scat-

tered about on the island; but he had only the light of the stars
to guide him, and, not knowing anything of the exact position
of the houses, he thought it better to return to tlie boat.

" I can find no signs of them, Giuseppi."

"All the better, Messer Francisco. There are some sorts of
game which it is well for the safety of the hunter not to dis-
cover. I was very glad, I can tell you, when I heard your
whistle and made out your figure returning at a walk. Now
you are back I will take an hour's nap, and I should advise
you to do the same."

But Francis had no thought of sleep, and sat down at his
end of the gondola wondering over the adventure, and con-
sidering whether or not it would be worth while to follow it up
another night. That it was a plot of some sort he had little
doubt There were always in Venice two parties, equally
anxious perhaps for the prosperity of the republic, but differ-
ing widely as to the means by which that prosperity would be
best achieved, and as to the alliances which would in the long
run prove most beneficial to her. There were also needy and
desperate men ready enough to take bribes from any who
might offer them, and to intrigue in the interest of Padua or
Ferrara, Verona, Milan, or Genoa — whichever might for the
time be their paymasters. Francis was English, but he had
been long enough in Venice to feel a pride in the island city,
and to be almost as keenly interested in her fortunes as were his
companions and friends; and a certain sense of duty, mingled
with his natural love of adventure, decided him to follow up
the chance which had befallen him, and to endeavour to ascer-
tain the nature of the plot which was, he had little doubt, being
hatched at San Nicolo.

In a very few minutes the regular breathing of Giuseppi,
who had curled himself up in the bottom of the boat, showed
that he had gone to sleep; and he did not stir until, an hour

(468)

Ii I

iJ'

\ 1

1 . j

■

i '

'
j

H "STOP, IN THE NAME OP THE REPUBLIC 1"

and a half after the return of Francis, the latter heard the fall
of footsteps approaching the gondola.

"Wake up, Giuseppi, here comes our fare 1"

Francis stood up and stretched himself as the stranger came
alongside, as if he too had been fast asleep.

" Take me back to the spot where I hailed you," the fare
said briefly as he stepped into the boat and threw himself
back on the cushions, and without a word the lads dipped
their oars in the water and the gondola glided away towards
Venice. Just as they reached the mouth of the Grand Canal,
and were about to turn into it, a six-oared gondola shot out
from under the point, and a voice called out:

" Stop, in the name of the republic, and give an account of
yourselves!"

"Eow on," the passenger exclaimed, starting up; "ten ducats
if you can set me safely on shore."

Had the lads been real gondoliers it is probable that even
this tempting offer would not have induced them to disregard
the order from the galley, for they would have run no slight
risk in so doing.

But Francis had no desire to be caught, and perhaps im-
prisoned for a considerable time until he was able to convince
the council that his share of the night vork had been merely
the result of a boyish freak. With two strokes of his oar,
therefore, he swept the boat's head round, thereby throwing
their pursuers directly astern of them ; then he and Giuseppi
threw their whole weight into the stroke, and the boat danced
over the water at a pace very different to that at which it had
hitherto proceeded. But, fast as they went, the galley travelled
somewhat faster, the rowers doing their utmost in obedience to
the angry orders of their officer, and had the race been continued
on a broad stretch of water it would sooner or later have
overhauled the gondola. But Francis was perfectly aware of

ns oar,
irowing
Jiuseppi

danced
it had

ravelled
lience to
intinued

IV have

iW9xe of

OHASKD. W

this, and edged the boat away towards the end of the Piazzetta,
and then, shooting her head round, dashed at full speed along
the canal by the side of the ducal palace, the galley being at the
time some forty yards behind.

"The first to the right," Francis said, and with scarce a
pause in their speed they turned off at right angles up the first
canal they came to. Again and again thuy turned and twisted,
regardless of the direction in which the canals took them, their
only object being to gain on their pursuers, who lost consider-
ably at each turn, being obliged always to check their speed
before arriving at each angle, to allow the boat to go round.
In ten minutes she was far behind, and they then abated their
speed, and turned the boat's head in the diiectiou in which
they wished to go.

"By San Paolo," the stranger said, "that was well done!
You are masters of your craft, and sent your boat along at a pace
which must have astonished those fellows in that lumbering
galley. I had no rear^on to fear them, but I do not care to be
interfered with and questioned by these jacks-in-ofilice of the
republic."

A few minutes later they reached the place where he em-
barked, and as he got out he handed the money he had
promised to Giuseppi.

"Next Thursday night," he said, "at half-past ten."

"It seems a dangerous sort of service, signer," Giuseppi
said hesitatingly. "It is no joke to disobey the oflScers of the
republic, and next time we may not be so fortunate."

" It's worth taking a little risk when you are well paid," the
other said, turning away, "and it is not likely we shall run
against one of the state galleys another night."

"Home, now, Giuseppi, Francis said, "we can talk about
it to-morrow; it's the best night's work you ever did in your life,
and as I have had a grand excitement we are both contented."

, , ■

A PIECE OF NEWS.

During the next few days Francis debated seriously with
himself whether to follow up the adventure; but he finally de-
cided on doing so, feeling convinced that there could be no real
danger, even were the boat seized by one of the state galleys,
as his story, that he had gone into the matter simply to dis-
cover whether any plot was intended against the republic,
would finally be believed, as it would be beyond the bounds of
probability that a lad of his age could himself have been con-
cerned in such a conspiracy.

As to Giuseppi, he offered no remonstrance when Francis
told him that he intended to go out to San Nicolo on the fol-
lowing Thursday, for the ten ducats he had received were a sum
larger than he could have saved in a couple of years' steady
work, and were indeed quite a fortune in his eyes. Another
such a sum, and he would be able, when the time came, to buy
a gondola of his own, to marry, and set up housekeeping in
grand style. As for the danger, if Francis was willing to run it
he could do the same; for after all, a few months* imprisonment
was the worst that could befall him for his share in the
business.

Before the day came Matteo Giustiniani told Francis a piece
of news which interested him. "^

"You remember my cousin Maria Polani, whom we met the
other evening on the Grand Canal 1"

"Of course I do, Matteo. What of her?"

"Well, what do you think ! Euggiero Mocenigo, whom I
pointed out to you on the Piazza — the man who had been
banished for two years — has asked for her hand in marriage."

" He is not going to have it, I hope," Francis said indig-
nantly. " It would be a shame, indeed, to give her to such a
man as that."

"That is just what her father thought, Francisco, and here-
fused Ruggiero pretty curtly, and told him, I believe, he would

AN ARGUMENT.

lage.
indig-
such a

he re-
would

rather see her in her grave than married to him ; and I hear
there was a regular scene, and Ruggiero went away swearing
Polani should regret his lefusal."

"I suppose your cousin does not care much a^^out his threats,"
Francis said.

"I don't suppose he cares much about them," Matteo replied;
"but Euggiero is very powerfully connected, and may do him
damage, not to speak of the chance of his hiring a bravo to stab
him on the first opportunity. I know my father advi'ied Polani
to be very cautious where he went at night for a time. This
fellow, Ruggiero, is a dangerous enemy. If he were to get
Polani stabbed, it would be next to impossible to prove that it
was his doing, however strong the suspicion might be ; for mere
suspicion goes for nothing against a man with his influence and
connections. He has two near relations on the council, and if
he were to burn down Poiani's mansion, and to carry off Maria,
the chances are against his be;ng punished if he did but keep
out of the way for a few months.''

As in England powerful baro: s were in the habit of v^aging
private wars with each other, and the carrying off a bride by
force was no very rare event, this state of thirgs did not appear
to Francis as outrageous as it would do to an English lad of the
present day, but he shook hia head. "

"Of course one understands, Matteo, that everywhere
powerful nobles do things which would be regarded as crimes
if done by others; but, elsewhere, people can fortify their houses,
and call out and arm their retainers, and stand on their guard.
But that here, in a city like this, private feuds should be carried
on, and men stabbed when unconscious of danger, seems to me
detestable."

"Of course it isn't right," Matteo said carelessly, "but I
don't know how you are going to put a stop to it; and after
all, our quarrels here only involve a life or two, while in other

1 1

TWO SIDES OF A QUESTION.

countries nobles go to war with each other, and hundreds of
lives of people who have nothing to do with the quarrel may be
sacrificed."

This was a light in which Francis had hardly looked upon
the matter before, and he was obliged to own that even private
assfissination, detestable as it was, yet caused much less suffering
than feudal war; still, he was not disposed entirely to give in
to his friend's opinion.

" That is true, Matteo ; but at the same time, in a vicj' it is
fair fighting, while a stab in the back is a cowardly business."

" It is not always fair fighting," Matteo replied. "You hear
of castles being surprised and the people massacred without a
chance of resistance ; of villages being burned, and the people
butchered ur.resistingly. I don't think there is so much more
fairness one way than the other. Polani knows he will have
to be careful, and if he likes he can hire bravos to put Ruggiero
out of tii? way, just as Ruggiero can do to remove him. There's
a good deal to be said for both sides of the question."

Francis felt this was so, and that although he had an abhor-
rence of the Venetian method of settling quarrels he saw that
as far as the public were concerned, it was really preferable to
the feudal method of both parties calling out their retainers
and going to war with each other, especially as assassinations
played no inconsiderable part in the feudal struggles of the
time.

On the Thursd \y night the gondola was in waiting at the
agreed spot. Francis had thought it probable that the stranger
luight this time ask some questions as to where they lived and
their usual place of plying for hire, and would endeavour to find
out as much as he could about them, as they could not but
suspect that he was engaged in some very unu&ual enterprise.
He had therefore warned Giuseppi to be very careful in hip
replies. lie knew that it was not necessary to say more, for

QUESTIONED.

Giuseppi had plenty of shrewdness, and would, he was sure,
invent some plausible story without the least difficulty, posses-
sing aa he did plenty of the easy mendacity so general among
ti;.e lower classes of the races inhabiting countries bordering on
the Mediterranean. Their fare came down to the gondola a few
minutes after the clock had tolled the half-hour.

" I see you are punctual," he said, "which is more than most
of you men are."

Francis was rowing the bow-oar, and therefore stood with
his back to the passenger, and was not likely to be addressed
by him, as he would naturally turn to Giuseppi, who stood
close behind him. As Francis had expected, as soon as they
were out on the lagoon the passenger turned to his companion
and began to question him.

" I cannot see your faces," he said; " but by your figures you
are both young, are you not?"

" I am but twent/two," Giuseppi said, " and my brother is
a year younger."

"And what are your names?"

" Giovanni and Beppo Morani."

"And is this boat your own?"

" It is, signer. Our father died three years ago, leaving us
his boat."

"And where do you usually plyl"

"Anywhere, s:gnor, just as the fancy seizes us. Sometimes
one place is good, sometimes another."

"And where do you live?"

" We don't live anywhere signor. When night comes, and
business is over, we tie up the boat to a post, wrap ourselves
up, and go to sleep at the bottom. It costs nothing, and we
are just as comfortable there as we should be on 8tra«f in a
room."

"Then you must be saving money?" .. ^

j; ;

"THE BOAT IS LIKE OTHERS."

■':|1

!;' i

"Yes; we are laying money by. Some day, I suppose, we
shall marry, and our wives must have homes. Besides, some-
times we are lazy and don't work. One must have some
pleasure, you know."

" Would you like to enter service?"

"No, signor. We prefer being our own masters; to take
a fare or leave it as we please."

" Your boat is a very fast one. You went at a tremendous
rate when the galley was after us the other night."

"The boat is like others," Giuseppi said carelessly; "but
most men can row fast when the alternative is ten ducats one
way or a prison the other."

" Then there would be no place where I could always find you
in the daytime if I wanted youl"

"No, signor; there would be no saying where we might be.
We have sometimes regular customers, and it would not pay us
to disappoint them, even if you paid us five times the ordinary
fare; but we could always meet you at night anywhere, when
you choose to appoint."

" But how can I appoint," the passenger said irritably, " if
I don't know where to find you?"

Giuseppi was silent for a stroke or two.

" If your excellency would write in figures half-past ten or
eleven, or whatever time we should meet you, just at the base
of the column of the palace— the corner one on the Piazzetta —
we should be sure to be there sometime or other during the
day, and would look for it."

" You can read and write, theni" the passenger asked.

"I cannot do that, signor/' Giuseppi said, "but I can make
out figures. That is necessary to us as how else could we
keep time with our customers? We can read the sun-dials, as
everyone else can ; but as to reading and writing, that is not
for poor lads like us."

FRANCIS FOLLOWS HIS FARE.

not

The stranger was satisfied. Certainly every one could read
the sun-dials; and the gondoliers would, as they said, under-
stand his figures if he wrote them. "'

"Very well," he said; "it is probable I shall generally know,
each time I discharge you, when I shall want you again ; but
should there be any change, I will make the figures on the base
of the column at the corner of the Piazzetta, and that will
mean the hour at which you are to meet me that night at the
usual place."

Nothing more was said until the gondola arrived at the same
spot at which it had landed the passenger on the previous
occasion.

" I shall be back in about the same time as before," the fare
said when he alighted.

As he strode away into the darkness Francis followed him.
He was shoeless, for at that time the lower class seldom wore
any protection to the feet, unless when going a journey over
rough ground. Among the gondoliers shoes were unknown;
and Francis himself generally took his off, for coolness and
comfort, when out for the evening in his boat. He kept some
distance behind the man he was following, for as there were
no hedges or inclosures, he could make out his figure against
the sky at a considerable distance.

As Francis had expected, he did not make towards the vil-
lage, but kept along the island at a short distance from the
edge of the water. Presently Francis heard the dip of oars,
and a gondola ran up on the sands half-way between himself
and tho man he was following. He threw himself down on
the ground. Tvro men alighted, and went in the same direc-
tion as the one who had gone aliead. Francis made a detour,
so as to avoid being noticed by the gondoliers, and then again
followed.

After keeping more than a quarter of a mile near the water,

1 1

THE PLACE OF MEETING.

the two figures ahead struck inshore. Francis followed them,
and in a few minutes they stopped at a black mass rising above
the sand. He heard them knock, and then a low murmur, as
if they were answering some question from within. Then they
entered, and a door closed.

He moved up to the building; it was a hut of some size,
but had a deserted appearance. It stood between two ridges
of low sand-hills, and the sand had drifted till it was half-way
up the walls. There was no garden or inclosure round it, and
any passer-by would have concluded that it was uninhabited.
The shutters v.ere closed, and no gleam of light showed from
within. After stepping carefully round it Francis took his
post round the angle close to the door, and waited.

Presently he heard footsteps approaching — three knocks were
given on the door, and a voice within asked, "Who is there?"
The reply was, "One who is in distress." The question came,
"What ails you 1" and the answer, "All is wrong within."
Then there was a sound of bars being withdrawn, and the door
opened and closed again.

There were four other arrivals. The same questions were
asked and answered each time. Then some minutes elapsed
without any fresh comers, and Francis thought that the number
was probably complete. He lay down on the sand, and with
his dagger began to make a hole through the wood, which was
old and rotten, and gave him no difficulty in piercing it. He
applied his eye to the orifice, and saw that there were some
twelve men seated round a table.

Of those facing him he knew three or four by sight; all were
men of good family. Two of them belonged to the council,
but not to the inner Council of Ten. One sitting at the top
of the table was speaking; but although Francis applied his
ear to the hole he had made he could hear but a confused mur-
mur, and could not catch the words. He now rose cautiously,

Tfrttr-"

WATCHING THE CONSPIRATORS.

scooped up the sand so as to cover the hole in the wall, and
swept a little down over the spot vhere he had been lying,
although he had no doubt that the breeze which would spring
up before morning would soon drift the light shifting sand
over it and obliterate the mark of his recumbent figure. Then
he went round to the other side of the hut and bored another
hole, so as to obtain a view of the faces of those whose backs
had before been towards him.

One of these was Ruggiero Mocenigo. Another was a stranger
to Francis, and some difference in the fashion of his garments
indicated that he was not a Venetian, but, Francis thought, a
Hungarian. The other three were not nobles. One of them
Francis recognized as being a man of much influence among
the fishermen and sailors. The other two were unknown to
him.

As upwards of an hour had been spent in making the two
holes and taking observations, Francis thought it better now
to make his way back to his boat, especially as it was evident
that he would gain nothing by remaining longer. Therefore,
after taking the same precautions as before to conceal all signs
of his presence, he made his way across the sands back to his
gondola.

"Heaven be praised you are back again!" Giuseppi said
when he heard his low whistle as he came down to the boat.
" I have been in a fever ever since I lost sight of you. Have
you succeeded?"

" I have found out that there is certainly a plot of some sort
being got up, and I know some of tliose concerned in it, but I
could hear nothing that went on. Still I have succeeded better
than I expected, and I am well satisfied with the night's work."

" I hope you won't come again, Messer Francisco. In the first
place, you may not always have the fortune to get away un-
seen. In the next place, it is a dangerous matter- to have to

PROS AND CONa

do with conspiracies, whichever side you are on. The way to
live long in Venice is to make no enemies."

"Yes, I know that, Giuseppi, and I haven't decided yet
what to do in the matter."

A quarter of an hour later their fare returned to the boat.
This time they took a long detour, and, entering Venice by one
of the many canals, reached the landing-place without adven-
ture. The stranger handed Giuseppi a ducat

"I do not know when I shall want you again; but I will mark
the hour, as agreed, on the pillar. Do not fail to go there
every afternoon; and even if you don't tee it, you might as
well come round here at half-past ten of a night I may want
you suddenly."

Before going to sleep that night Francis thought the matter
over seriously, and finally concluded that he would have no
more to do with it No doubt, by crossing over to San Nicolo
in the daytime he might be able to loosen a plank at the
back of the hut, or to cut so large an opening that he could
hear as well as see what was going on within; but supposing
he discovered that a plot was on hand in favour of the enemies
of Venice, such as Padua or Hungary, what was he to do next 1
At the best, if he denounced it, and the ofHcers of the republic
surrounded the hut when the conspirators were gathered there,
arrested them, and found upon them, or in their houses, proofs
sufficient to condemn them, his own position would not be
enviable. He would gain, indeed, the gratitude of the re-
public; but as for rewards, he had no need of them. On the
other hand, he would draw upon himself the enmity of some
eight or ten important families and all their connections and
followers, and his life would be placed in imminent danger.
They would be all the more bitter against him, inasmuch as the
discovery would not have been made by accident, but by an act
of deliberate prying into matters which concerned him in no

!!■

A WISE DECISION.

way, he not being a citizen of the repubh'c. So far his action
in the matter had been a mere boyish freak; and now that he
saw it was likely to become an affair of grave importance,
involving the lives of many persons, he determined to have
nothing luith'^r to do with it.

*=m=^'

II 1 1

CHAPTER m

ON THE GRAND CANAI*

TUSEPPI next morning heard the announcement of
the determination of Francis to interfere no fur-
ther in the matter of the conspiracy at San Nicolo
with immense satisfaction. For the last few
nights he had scarcely slept, and whenever he dozed off,
dreamed either of being tortured in dungeons, or of being
murdered in his gondola; and no money could make up
for the constant terrors which assailed him. In his waking
moments he was more anxious for his employer than for him-
self, for it was upon him that the vengeance of the conspira-
tors would fall, rather than upon a young gondolier, who was
only obeying the orders of his master. It was then with
unbounded relief that he heard Francis had decided to go no
more out to San Nicolo.

During the next few days Francis went more frequently
than usual to the Piazza of St. Mark, and had no difficulty in
recognizing there the various persons he had seen in the hut,
and in ascertaining their names and families. One of the
citizens he had failed to recognize was a large contractor in
the salt-works on the mainland; the other was the largest
importer of beasts for the supply of meat to the markets of
the city. Francis was well satisfied with the knowledge he
had gained; it might never be of any use to him, but it might,

A BfBASURE OF PRECAUTION.

on the other hand, he of importance when least expected. As
a matter of precaution he drew up an exact account of the
proceedings of the two nights on the lagoons, giving an account
of the meeting, and the names of the persons present, and
placed it in a drawer in his room. He told Giuseppi what he
had done.

'' " I do not think there is the least chance of our ever being

^recognized, Giuseppi; there was not enough light for the

''' man to have made out our features. Still there is nothing like

{ tak'ng precautions, and if — I don't think it is likely, mind — but

/ if tnything should ever happen to me — if I should be missing,

io* example, and not return by the following morning — you

I tace that paper out of my drawer and drop it into the Lion's

\ Muth. Then, if you are questioned, tell the whole story."

(^ " But they will never believe me, Messer Francisco," Giuseppi

said in alarm.

" They will believe you, because it will be a confirmation of
my story; but I don't think that there is the least chance of
our ever hearing anything further about it."

" Why not denounce them at once without putting your
name to it," Giuseppi said; '* then they could pounce upon them
over there, and find out all about it for themselves 1"

'* I have thought about it, Giuseppi, but there is something
treacherous in secret denunciations; these men have done me
no harm, and as a foreigner their political schemes do not
greatly concern me. I should not like to think I had sent
twelve men to the dungeons and perhaps to death."

"I think it's a pity you ever went there at all, Messer
Francisco."

"Well, perhaps it is, Giuseppi; but I never thought it
would turn out a serious affair like this; however, I do wish I
hadn't gone now ; not that I think it really matters, or that
we shall ever hear anything more of it We may, perhaps,

< 1

INQUIRIES SET ON FOOT.

some day see the result of tliis conspiracy, that is, if its objects
are such as I guess th^m to be, nurnuly, to form a party opposed
to war with Hungary, Padua, or Genoa."

For some days after this Francis abstained from late excur-
sions in the gondola. It was improbable that he or Giuseppi
wouM be recognized did their lute passenger meet them>
still it was possible that they mi<^ht be so; and whcm he went
out he sat quietly among the cushions while Giuseppi rowed.*
as it would be a pair-oared gondola the stranger would be
looking for. He was sure that the consjnrator would feel un-
easy when the boat did not come to the rendezvous, especi&lly
when they found that on three successive days figures wee
marked as had been arranged on the column at the corner (f
the Piazzetta. •'

Giuseppi learned indeed a week later that inquiries had bee
made among the gondoliers for a boat rowed by two brothers,
Giovanni and Beppo; and the inquirer, who was dressed as a
retainer of a noble family, had ofiered five ducats reward for
information concerning it. No snch names, however, were
down upon the register of gondoliers licensed to ply for hire.
Giuseppi learned that the search had been conducted quietly
but vigorously, and tiiat several young gondoliers who rowed
together had been seen and questioned. The general opinion
among the boatmen was that some lady must have been
carried off, and that her friends were seeking for a clue as to
the spot to which she had been taken.

One evening Francis had been strolling on the Piazza with
Matteo, and had remained out later than he had done since
the night of his last visit to San Nicolo. He took his seat in
the gondola, and when Giuseppi asked him if he would go
home, said he would first take a turn or two on the Grand
Canal as the night was close and sultry. There was no moon
now, and most of the gondolas carried torches. Giuseppi was

fflUNOlS TO THE RKSOU&

go
nd

paddling qnietly, when a pair-oared gondola shot past them,
and by the light of the torch it carried Francis recognized the
ladies sitting in it to be Maria and Giulia Polani with their
duenna; two armed retainers sat behind them. They were,
Francik.< supposed, returning from spending the evening at the
house of some of their friends. There were but few boats now
passing along the canal. Polani's gondola was a considerable
distance ahead, when Francis heard a sudden shout of, " Mind
where you are going ! " Then there was a crash of two gondolas
striking each other followed by an outburst of shouts and cries
of alarm, with, Francis thought, the clash of swords.

*'Row, Giuseppil" he exclaimed, leaping from his seat and
catching up the other oar; and with swift and powerful strokes
the two lads drove the gondola towards the scene of what was
either an accident or an attempt at crime. They had no
doubt which it was when they arrived at the spot. A four-oared
gondola lay alongside that of the Polanis, and the gondoliers
with their oars, and the two retainers with their swords, had
offered a stout resistance to an armed party who were trying
to board her from the other craft, but their resistance was
well-nigh over by the time Francis brought his gondola along-
afde.

One of the retainers had fallen with a sword thrust through
his body, and a gondolier had been knocked overboard by a
blow from an oar. The two girls were standing up screaming,
and the surviving retainer was being borne backwards by
three or four armed men who were slashing furiously at him.

" Quick, ladies, jump into my boat ! " Francis exclaimed as
he came alongside, and, leaning over, he dragged them one after
the other into his boat just as their last defender fell

With a fierce oath the leader of the assailants was about to
spring into the gondola, when Francis, snatching up his oar,
smote him with all his strength on the head as he was in the

(468) D

"TO THB PALAZZO POLANI."

act of springing, and he fell with a heavy splash into the
water between the boats.

A shout of alarm and rage rose from his followers, but the
gondolas were now separated, and in another moment that of
Francis was flying along the canal ai the top of its speed.

" Calm yourselves, ladies," Francis said; " there is no fear
of pursuit, they will stop to pick up the man I knocked into
the canal, and by the time they get him on board we shall be
out of their reach."

" What will become of the signora? " the eldest girl asked
when they recovered a little from their agitation.

" No harm will befall her, you may be sure," Francis said;
" it was evideritly an attempt to carry you ofij and now that
you have escaped they will care nothing for your duenna.
She seemed to have lost her head altogether, for as I lifted
you into the boat she clung so fast to your garments that I
fancy a portion of them were left in hftr grasp."

"Do you know where to take us? I see you are going in
the righb direction!" the girl asked.

" To the Palazzo Polani," Francis said. " I have the honour
of being a friend of your cousin, Matteo Giustiniani, and being
with him one day when you ^)assed in your gondola he named
you to me."

"A fiiend of Mattoo!" the girl repeated in surprise.
"Pardon me, signer, I thought you were two passing gondo-
liers; it was so dark that I could not recognize you; and, you
see, it is so unusual to see a gentleman rowing."

" I am English, signora, and we are fond of strong exercise,
and so after nightfall, when it cannot shock my friends, I
often take an oar myself."

" I thank you, sir, with all my heart, for my sister and my-
self, for the service you have rendered us. I can hardly under-
stand what has passed, even now it seems like a dream. We

"WE HAVE BEEN ATTACKED, FATHER.

were going quietly along home when a large dark gondola
dashed out from one of the side canals and nearly ran us
down. Our gondolier shcuted to warn them, but they ran
alongside, and then some .nen jumped on board, and there was
a terrible fight, and e\ ery moment I expected that the gondola
would have been upset; Beppo was knocked overboard, and
I saw old Nicolini fall; and then, just as it seemed all over,
you appeared suddenly by our side and dragged us on board
this boat before I had time to think."

" I am afraid I was rather rough, signora, but there was no
time to stand on ceremony, Here is the palazzo."

The boat was brought up by the side of the steps. Francis
leapt ashore and rang the bell, and then assisted the girls to
land. In a minute the door was thrown open, and two servi-
tors with torches appeared. There was an exclamation of
astonishment as they saw the young ladies alone with a strange
attendant.

" I will do myself the honour of calling to-morrow to inquire
if you fie any the worse for your adventure, signora."

"No, indeed," the eldest girl said; "you must come up with
us and see our father. We must tell him what has happened;
.'.nd he will be angry indeed did we suffer our rescuer to depart
without his having an opportunity of thanking him."

Francis bowed and followed the girls upstairs. They entered
a large, very handsomely-furnished apartment where a tall man
was sitting reading.

"Why, girls," he exclaimed as he rose, "what has happened?
you look strangely excited; where is your duenna 1 and who is
this young gentleman who accompanies you?"

" We have been attacked, father, on our way home," both the
girls exclaimed.

" Attacked 1" Signer Polani repeated. "Who has dared to
vfjnture on such an oatrage?"

i •

ill

'*IT IS A SCANDALOUS OUTRAGE."

" We don't know, father," Maria said ; " it was a four-oared
gondola that ran suddenly into us. We thought it was an
accident till a number of men, with their swords drawn, leaped
on board. Then Nicolini and Francia drew their swords and
tried to defend us, and Beppo and Jacopo both fought bravely
too with their oars; but Beppo was knocked overboard, and
I am afraid Nicolini and Francia are killed, and in another
moment they would have got at us, when this young gentleman
came alongside in his gondola and dragged us on board, for we
were too bewildered and frightened to do anything. One of them
— he seemed the leader of the party — tried to jump on board,
but our protector struck him a terrible blow with his oar
and he fell into the water, and then tiie gondola made off, and,
so far as we could see, they did not chase us."

" It is a scandalous outrage, and I will demand justice at the
hands of the council. Young sir, you have laid me under an
obligation I shall never forget. You have saved my daughter
from the worst calamity that could befall her. Who is it to
whom I am thus indebted?"

"My name is Francis Hammond; my father is an English
merchant who has for the last four years established himself
hare."

"I know him well by repute," Polani said; "I trust I shall
know more ot him in the future. But where is your duenna,
girlsf

"She remained behind in the gondola, father; she seemed
too frightened to move."

" The lady seemed to have lost her head altogether," Francis
said. " As I was lifting your daughters into my gondola in a
very hasty and unceremonious way — for tho resistance of your
servitors was all but overcome, and there Tvas no time to be
lost — she held so tightly to their robes tiat they were rent in
her hands."

1l"

AND WELL YOU DID IT.*

Signor Polani struck a gong.

" Let a gondola be manned instantly," he said, " and let six
of you take arms and go in search of our boat; let another
man at once summon a leech, for some of those on board are, I
fear, grievously wounded, if not killed."

But there was no occasion to carry out the order concerning
the boat, for before it was ready to start the missing gondola
arrived at the steps, rowed by the remaining gondolier. The
duenna, was lifted out sobbing hysterically, and the bodies of
the two retainers were then landed. One was dead j the other
expire(| a few minutes after being brought ashore.

" You did not observe anything particular about the gondola,
Maria, or you, Giulia?"

" No, father, I saw no mark or escutcheon upon it, though
they might have been there without my noticing them. I was
too frightened to sue anything; it came so suddenly upon us."

" It was, as far as I noticed, a plain black gondola," Francis
said. " The men concerned in the affair were all dressed in
dark clothes, without any distinguishing badges."

" How was it you came to interfere in the fray, young gentle-
man) Few of our people would have done so, holding it to
be a dangerous thing for a man to mix himself up in a quarrel
in which he had no concern."

" I should probably have mixed mj'^self up in it in any case
when I heard the cry of women," Francis replied; "but, in
truth, I recognized the signoras as their gondola passed mine,
and knew them to be cousins of my friend Matteo Giustiniani,
therefore when I heard the outcry ahead I naturally hastened
up to do what I could in the matter."

" And well you did it," Polani said heartily. " I trust that
the man you felled into the water is he who is the author
of this outrage. I do not think I need seek far for him. My
suspicions point very strongly in one direction, and to-morrow

^ \\

-"^"^14

"WE SEEM FATED TO HAVE ADVENTURES."

I will lay the matter before the council and demand repara
tion."

"And now, signor, if you will permit me I will take my
leave," Francis said; "the hour is late, and the signoras will
require rest after their fright and emotion."

" I will see you to-morrow, sir. I shall do myself the honour
of calling early upon your father to thank him for the great
service you have rendered me."

Signor Polani accompanied Francis to the steps, while two
servancs held torches while he took his seat in the gondola,
and remained standing there until the barque had shq| away
beyond the circle of light.

"We seem fated to ii a ve adventures, Giuseppi."

"We do indeed, Messer Francisco, and this is more to my
liking than the last. We arrived just at the nick of time;
another half-minute and those young ladies would have been
carried off. That was a rare blow you dealt their leader. I
fancy he never came up again, and that that is why we got away
without being chased."

* I am of that opinion myself, Giuseppi."

"If that is the case we shall not have heard the last of it,
Messer Francisco. Only some one of a powerful family would
venture upon so bold a deed as to try to carry off" ladies of birth
on the Grrand Canal, and you may find that this adventure
has created for you enemies not to be despised."

"I can't help it if it has," Francis said carelessly. "On the
other hand, it will gain for me an influential friend in Signor
Polani^ who is not only one of the richest merchants of Venice,
but closely related to a number of the best families of the city."

"His influence will not protect you against the point of a
dagger," Giuseppi said. " Your share in this business cannot
but become public, and I think that it would be wise to give
up our evening excursions at present."

]

f,»r£awss:a!Taf '

FRANCIS TELLS HIS STORT.

" I don't agree with you, Giuseppi. We don't go about with
torches burning, so no one wlio meets us is hkely to recognize
u& One gondola in the dark is pretty much like another, and
however many enemies I had I should not be afraid of travers-
ing the canals."

The next morning at breakfast-time Francis related to his
father his adventure of the previous evening.

" It is a mistake, my son, to mix yourself up in broils which
do not concern youj but in the present instance it maybe that
your adventure will turn out to be advantageous to your pros-
pects. Signor Polani is one of the most illustrious merchants
of Venice; his name is known everywhere in the East, and
there is not a port in the Levant where his galleys do not
trade; the friendship of such a man cannot but be most useful
to me. Upon the other hand, you will probably make some
enemies by your interference with the plans of some unscrupu-
lous young noble, and Venice is not a healthy city for those
who have powerful enemies; still I think that the advantages
will more than balance the risk.

" However, Francis, you must curb your spirit of adventure.
You are not the son of a baron or count, and the winning of
honour and glory by deeds of arms neither befits you nor would
be of advantage to you in any way. A trader of the city
of London should be distinguished for his probity and his
attention to business; and meihinks that ere long it will be
well to send you home to take your place in the counting-house
under the eye of my partner, John Pearson. Hitherto I
have not checked your love for arms or your intercourse with
youths of far higher rank than your own ; but I have been for
some time doubting the wisdom of my course in bringing you
out here with me, and have regretted that I did not leave
you in good hands at home. The events of last night show
that the time is fast approaching when you can no longer be

(

IHIIil!

'■ 7 ■tT

▲ merchant's ufe.

considered a boy, and it will' be better for you to turn at on<^e
into the groove in which you are to travel than to continue a
mode of life which will unfit you for the career of a city trader."

Francis knew too well his duty towards his father to make
any reply, but his heart sank at the prospect of settling down
in the establishment in London. His life there had not
been an unpleasant one, but he knew that he should find it
terribly dull after the freedom and liberty he had enjoyed in
Venice. He had never, however, even to himself, indulged the
idea that any other career save that of his father could be his,
and had regarded it as a matter of course that some day he
would take his place in the shop in Cheapside.

Now that it was suddenly presented to him as something
which would shortly take place, a feeling of repugnance towards
the life came over him. Not that he dreamt for a moment of
trying to induce his father to allow him to seek some other calling.
He had been always taught to consider the position of a trader
of good standing of the city of London as one of the most
desirable possible. The line between the noble and the citizen
was so strongly marked that no one thought of overstepping it.

The citizens of London were as proud of their position
and as tenacious of their rights as were the nobles themselves.
They were ready enough to take up arms to defend their
privileges and to resist oppression, whether it came from king
or noble; but few indeed, even of the wilder spirits of the city,
ever thought of taking to arms as a profession. It was true
that honour and rank were to be gained by those who rode in
the train of great nobles to the wars, but the nobles drew their
following from their own estates, and not from among the
dwellers in the cities; and, although the bodies of men-at-arms
and archers furnished by the city to the king in his wars always
did their duty stoutly in the field, they had no opportunity of
distinguishing themselves singly. The deeds which i^ttracted

it I' ll>'ll

A VISITOR.

attention and led to honour and rank were performed by the
esquires and candidates for the rank of knighthood, who rode
behind the barons into the thick of the French chivalry.

Thd'efore Francis Hammond had never thought of taking to
the profession of arms in his own country; though, when the
news arrived in Venice of desperate fighting at sea with the
Genoese, he had thought to himself that the most glorious thing
in life must be to command a we:^-manned galley as she ad-
vanced to the encounter of an enemy superior in numbers. He
had never dreanied that such an aspiration could ever be satisfied
— it was merely one of the fancies in which lads so often indulge.
Still, the thought that he was soon to return and take his place
in the shop in Chepo was exceedingly unpleasant to him.

Soon after breakfast the bell at the water-gate rang loudly,
and a minute later the servant entered with the news that
Sfgnor Polani was below, and begged an interview. Mr.
H:4mmond at once went down to the steps to receive his visitor,
whom he saluted with all ceremony, and conducted upstairs.

" I am known to you by name, no doubt. Signer Hammond,
as you are to me," the Venetian said when the first formal
greetings were over. " I am not a man of ceremony, nor, I
judge, are you ; but even if I were, the present is not an occa-
sion for it Your son has doubtless told you of the inestimable
service which he rendered to me last night, by saving my
daughters, or rather my eldest daughter — for it was doubtless
she whom the villains sought — from being borne off by one of
the worst and most disreputable of the many bad and disrepu-
table young men of this city."

" I am indeed glad, Signor Polani, that my son was able to
be of service to you. I have somewhat blamed myself that I
have let him have his own way so much, and permitted him to
give himself up to exercises of arms, more befitting the son of a
warlike noble than of a peaceful trader ; but the quickness and

< \\

'■ill

liill

"I I

((

A MASTERY OF ARMS IS ALWAYS USEFUL.

boldness which the mastery of arms gives was yesterday of ser-
vice, and I no longer regret the time he has spent, since it has
enabled him to be of aid to the daughters of Signer Polani."

"A mastery of arms is always useful, whether a man be a peace-
loving citizen or one who would carve his way to fame by means
of his weapons. We merchants of the Mediterranean might
give up Oiir trade if we were not prepared to defend our ships
against the corsairs of Barbary and the pirates who haunt every
inlet and islet of the Levant now, as they have ever done since
the days of Rome. Desides, it is the duty of every citizen to
defend his native city when attacked. And lastly, there are the
private enemies, that every man who rises but in the smallest
degree above his fellows is sure to create for himself. Moreover,
a ♦^-raining in arms, as you say, gives readiness and quickness, it
enables the mind to remain '-ilm and steadfast amidst dangers
of all sorts, and, methinks, it adds not a little to a man's dignity
and self-respect to know that he is equal, man to man, to any with
whom he may come in contact. Here in Venice we are all soldiers
and sailors, and your son will make no worse merchant, but rather
the better, for being able to wield sword and dagger. Even
now," he said with a smile, " he has proved the advantage of
his training; for, though I say it not boastfully, Nicholas Polani
has it in his power to be of some use to his friends, and fore-
most among them he will henceforward count your brave son,
and; if you will permit him, yourself. But you will, I trust,
excuse my paying you but » short visit this morning, for I am
on my way to lay a complaint before the council. I have already
been round to several of my friends, and Fhillipo Giustiniani
and some six others, near';.Sv /elated to me, w:ll go with me,
being all aggrieved at ihis outrage to a family nearly connected.
I crave you to permit me to take your son with me, in
order that he may be at hand if called upon to saj what he
knows of the affair.'

"HOW OLD ARE YOUl"

"Assuredly it is his duty to go with you if you desire it ;
although I oTvn I am not sorry that he coald see, as he tells me,
no badge or jognizance which would enable him to say aught
which can lead to the identification of those who would have
abducted your daughter. It is but too well known r^ fact that
it is dangerous to make enemies in Veiiice, for even the most
powerful protection does not avail against the stab of a
dagger."

" That is true enough," the merchant said. " The frequency
of assassinations is a disgrace to our city; nor will it ever be
put down until some men of high rank are executed, and the
seignory show that they are as jealous of the lives of private
citizens as they are of the honour and well-being of the
republic."

Francis gladly threw aside his books when he was told that
Signor Polani desired him to accompany him, and was soon
seated by the side of the merchant in his gondola.

"How old are you, my iriend?" the merchant asked him, as
the boat threaded the mazes of the canals.

" I am just sixteen, signor."

"No more!" the merchant said in surprise. "I had taken
you for well-nigh two years older. I have but just come from
the Palazzo Giustiniani, and my young kinsman ' itteo, tells
me that in the School of Arms there are none jur young
nobles who are your match with rapier or battle-axe."

" I fear, sir," Francis said modestly, " that I have given up
more time to the study of arms than befits the son of a sober
trader."

" Not at all," the Venetian replied. " We traders have to
defend our rights and our liberties, our goods a: id our ships,
just as much as the nobles have to defend their privileges and
their castles. Here in Venice there are no such distinctions of
rank as there are elsewhere. Certain families distinguished

.< v»

f^r

■I

"THE IDEA IS A FOOUSH ONE."

among the rest by their long standing, wealth, influence, or the
services they have rendered to the state, are of senatorial rank,
and constitute our nobility ; but there are no titles among us.
We are all citizens of the republic, with our rights and privileges,
which cannot be infringed even by the most powerful ; and the
poorest citizen has an equal right to make himself a proficient
in the arms which he may be called upon to wield in defence
of the state as the Doge himself. In your country also, I
believe, all men are obliged to learn the use of arms, to practise
shooting at the butts, and to make themselves efficient, if called
upon to take part in the wars of the country. And I have
heard that at the jousts the champions of the city of London
have ere now held their own against those of the court."

"They have done so," Francis said; "and yet, I know not
why, it is considered unseemly for the sons of well-to-do citizens
to be too fond of military exercises."

" The idea is a foolish one," the Venetian said hotly. " I
myself have a score of times defended my ships against corsairs
and pirates, Genoese, and other enemies. I have fought against
the Greeks, and been forced to busy myself in more than one
serious fray in the streets of Constantinople, Alexandria, and
other ports, and have served in the galleys of the state. All
men who live by trade must be in favour of peace; but they
must also be prepared to defend their goods, and the better
able they are to do it the more the honour to them. But
here we are at the Piazzetta."

A group of nobles were standing near the landing-place,
and Signor Polani at once went up to them and introduced
Francis to them as the gentleman who had done his daughter
and their kinswoman such good service. Francis was warmly
thanked and congratulated by them all.

"Will you wait near the entrance?" Signor Polani said. "I
see that my young cousin, Matteo, has accompanied his father,

MATTEO'S 00N0RATULATION8.

and you will, no doubt, find enough to say to each other while
we are with the council."

The gentlemen entered the palace, and Matteo, who had re-
mained respectfully at a short distance from the seniors, at once
joined his friend.

" Well, Francis, I congratulate you heartily, though I feel
quite jealous of you. It was splendid to think of your dashing
up in your gondola, and carrying off my pretty cousins from
the clutches of that villain, Ruggiero Mocenigo, just as he was
about to lay his hands on them."

"Are you sure it was Ruggiero, Matteo 1"

" Oh, there can't be any doubt about it. You know, he had
asked for Maria's hand, and when Polani refused him, had
gone off muttering threats. You know what his character is,
he is capable of any evil action; besides, they say that he has
dissipated his patrimony in gaming and other extravagancies
at Constantinople, and is deep in the hands of the Jews If he
could have succeeded in carrying off Maria it would more than
have mended his fortunes, for she and her sister are acknow-
ledged to be the richest heiresses in Venice. Oh, there is not
a shadow of doubt that it's he. You won't hear me saying
anything against your love of prowling about in that gondola
of yours, since it has brought you such a piece of good fortune
— for it is a piece of good fortune, Francis, to have rendered
such a service to Polani, to say nothing of all the rest of us who
are connected with his family. I can tell you that there are
scores of young men of good birth in Venice who would give
their right hand to have done what you did."

"I should have considered myself fortunate to have been
of service to any girls threatened by violence, though they
had only been fishermen's daughters," Francis said; "but I
am specially pleased because they are relatives of yours,
Matteo."

^ \

"IT WOULD NOT TROUBLE ME AT ALU"

" To say nothing to thoir being two of the prettiest girls in
Venice," Matteo added slyly.

"That counts for somotliing too, no doubt," Francis said
laughing, " though I didn't think of it. I wonder," he went on
gravely, "whether that was Kuggiero whom I struck down,
and whether he came up again to the surface. He has very
powerful connections, you know, Matteo; and if I have
gained friends, I shall also have gained enemies by the night's
work."

" That is so," Matteo agreed. " For your sake I own that I
hope that Ruggiero is at present at the bottom of the canal. He
was certainly no credit to his friends; and although they would
of course have stood by him, I do not think they will feel at
heart in any way displeased to know that he will trouble them
no longer. But if his men got him out again, I should say you
had best be careful, for Ruggiero is about the last man in Venice
I should care to have as an enemy. However, we won't look at
the unpleasant side of the matter, and will hope that his career
has been brought to a close."

" I don't know which way to hope." Francis said gravely.
" He will certainly be a dangerous enemy if he is alive; and
yet the thought of having killed a man troubles me much."

" It would not trouble me at all if I were in your place,"
Matteo said. "If you had not killed him, you may be very sure
that he would have killed you, and that the deed would have
caused him no compunction whatever. It was a fair fight, just
as if it had been a hostile galley in mid-sea; and I don't see
why the thought of having rid Venice of one of her worst citi-
zens need trouble you in any way."

"You see I have been brought up with rather dififerent ideas
to yours, Matteo. My father, as a trader, is adverse to fighting
of all kinds — save, of course, in defence of one's country; and
although he has not blamed me in any way for the part I took,

t
t
1

tl-

"OH, I HOPE NOT I"

1 can see that he is much disquieted, and indeed speaks of
sending me back to England at once."

"Oh, I hope not!" Matteo said earnestly. "Hitherto you
and I have been great friends, Francis, but we shall be more in
future. All Polani's friends will regard you as one of them-
selves; and I was even thinking, on my way here, that perhaps
you and I might enter the service of the state together and
get appointed to a war galley in a few years."

"My father's hair would stand up at the thought, Matteo;
though, for myself, I should like nothing so well. However,
that could never have been. Still I am sorry, indeed, at the
thought of leaving Venice. I have been very happy here, and
I have made friends, and there is always something to do or
talk about; and the life in London would be so dull in com-
parison. But here comes one of the ushers from the palace."

The official came up to them and asked if either of them was
Messer Francisco Hammond, and, finding that he had come to
the right person, requested Francis to follow him.

•i\

IV »

- s^

«,

CHAPTER IV.

CARRIED OFF.

T was with a feeling of considerable discomfort and
some awe that Francis Hammond followed his
conductor to the chamber of the Council, It was a
large and stately apartment. The decorations were
magnificent, and large pictures representing events in the wars
of Venice hung round the walls; the ceiling was also superbly
painted. The cornices were heavily gilded, curtains of worked
tapestry hung by the windows and fell behind him as he entered
the door.

At a table of horse-shoe shape eleven councillors, clad in the
long scarlet robes trimmed with ermine which were the dis-
tinguishing dress of Venetian senators, were seated — the doge
himself acting as president On their heads they wore black
velvet caps, flat at the top and in shape somewhat resembling
the flat Scotch bonnet. S'gnor Polani and his companions
were seated in chairs facing the table. "When Francis entered
the gondolier was giving evidence as to the attack upon his
boat. Several questions were asked him when he had finished,
and he was then told to retire. The usher then brought Francis
forward.

" This is Ivlesser Francisco Hammond," he said.
* Tell your story your own way," the doge said.

fistoits tH^ OOtTKOlL

Fraiicis riekted the story of the attack on the gondola and
the escape of the ladies in his boat.

" How came you, a foreigner and a youth, to interfere in a
fray of this kind?" one of the councillors asked.

" I did not stop to think of my being a stranger or a youth,"
Francis replied quietly. " I heard the screams of women in
distress, and felt naturally bound to render them what aid I
could."

"Did you know who the ladies were?"

" I knew them only by sight. My friend Matteo Giustiniani
had pointed them out to me on one occasion as being the
daughters of Signer Polani and connections of his. When
their gondola had passed mine, a few minutes previously,
I recognized their faces by the light of the torches in their
boat."

"Were the torches burning brightly?" another of the council
asked; "because it may be that this attack was not intended
against them, but against some others."

" The light was bright enough for me to recognize their faces
at a glance," Francis said, "and also the yellow and white
sashes of their gondoliers."

" Did you see any badge or cognizance either on the gondola
or on the persons of the assailants?"

"I did not," Francis said; "they certainly wore none. One
of the torches in the Polani gondola had been extinguished in
the fray, but the other was still burning, and, had the gon-
doliers worn coloured sashes or other distinguishing marks, I
should have noticed them."

" Should you recognize, were you to see them again, any of
the assailants?"

" I should not," Francis said ; " they were all masked."

" You say you struck down the one who appeared to be their
leader with an oar as he was about to leap into your boat.

(453) 8

fk^

^ ■.»

■1

i '■';■■'

"let him enter."

How was it the oax was in your hand instead of that of your
gondolier 1"

" I was myself rowing," Francis said. " In London rowing
is an amusement of which boys of all classes are fon'% and
since I have been out here with my father I have learned to
row a gondola; and sometimes when I am out of an evening I
take an oar as well as my gondolier, enjoying the exercise and
the speed at which the boat goes along. I was not rov/ing
whcju the signora's boat passed me, but upon hearing the
screams I stood up and took the second oar to arrive as quickly
as possible at the spot. That was how it was that 1 had it in
my hand when the man was about to leap into the boat."

" Then there is nothing at all, so far as you know, to direct
your suspicion against anyone as the author of this attack?"

" There was nothing," Francis said, " either in the gondola
itself or in the attire or persons of those concerned in the fray,
which could give me the slightest clue as to their identity."

"At anyrate, young gentleman," the doge said, " you appear
to have behaved with a promptness, presence of mind, and
courage — for it needs courage to interfere in a fray of this
sort — beyond your years; and in the name of the republic I
thank you for having prevented the commission of a grievous
crime. You will please to remain here for the present. It may
be that when the person accused of this crime appears before
us you may be able to recognize his figure."

It was with mixed feelings that Francis heard, a minute or
two later, the usher announce that Signor Ruggiero Mocenigo
was without awaiting the pleasure of their excellencies.

" Let him enter," the doge said.

The curtains fell back and Ruggiero Mocenigo entered with
a haughty air. He uowed to the council and stood as if ex-
pecting to be questioned.
^ "You are charged, Ruggiero Mocenigo," the doge said, "with

THE ACCUSED.

be or
bnigo

with
U ez-

'with

being concerned in an attempt to carry off the daughters of
Signor Polani, and of taking part in the killing of three servi-
tors of that gentleman."

"On what grounds am I accused?" Ruggiero said haughtily.

"On the ground that you are a rejected suitor for the elder
lady's hand, and that you had uttered threats against her
father, who, so far as he knows, has no other enemies."

" This seems somewhat scanty ground for an accusation of
such gravity," Ruggiero said sneeringly. "If every suitor who
grumbles when his offer is refused is to be held responsible for
every accident which may take place in the lady's family,
methinks that the time of this reverend and illustrious council
will be largely occupied."

- "You will remember," the doge said sternly, "that your
previous conduct gives good ground for suspicion against you.
You have already been banished from the state for two years
foT* assassination, and such reports as reached us of your con-
duct in Constantinople during your exile were the reverse of
satisfactory. Had it not been so, the prayers of your friends
that your term of banishment might be shortened would doubt-
less have produced their effect."

"At auyrate," Ruggiero said, "I can with little difficulty
prove that I had no hand in any attempt upon Signor Polani's
daughters last night, seeing ^ .at I had friends spending the
evening with me, and that we indulged in play until three
o'clock this morning — an hour at which, I should imagine, the
Signoras Polani would scarcely be abroad."

"At what time did your friends assemble?"

"At nine o'c'ock," Ruggiero said. "We met by agreement
in the Piazza somewhat before that hour and proceeded to-
gether on foot to my house."

"Who were your companions'!"

Ruggiero gave the names of six young men, all connections

^ \\

I ji I v.

■fi

PROVING AN ALIBI.

of his family, and summonses were immediately sent for them
to attend before the council.

" In the meantime, Messer Francisco Hammond, you can tell
U8 whether you recognize in the accused one of the assailants
last night.''

" I cannot recognize him, your excellency," Francis said; "but
I can say certainly that he was not the leader of the party whom
I struck with my oar. The blow fell on the temple, and as-
suredly there would be marks of such a blow remaining to-day."

As Francis was speaking Ruggiero looked at him with a
cold piercing glance which expressed the reverse of gratitude
for the evidence which he was giving in his favour, and some-
thing hke a chill ran through him as he resumed his seat
behind Signor Polani and his friends.

There was silence for a quarter of an hour. Occasionally the
members of the council s})oke in low tones to each other, but
no word was spoken aloud until the appearance of the first of
the young men who had been summoned. One after another
they gave their evidence, and all were unanimous in declaring
that they had spent the evening with Euggiero Mocenigo, and
that he did not leave the room from the moment of his arrival
there soon after nine o'clock, until they left him at two in the
morning.

" You have heard my witnesses," Euggiero said when the
last had given his testimony; " and I now ask your excellencies
whether it is right that a gentleman of good family should be
exposed to a villainous accusation of this kind on the barest
grounds of suspicion?"

" You have heard the evidence which has been given, Signor
Polani," the doge said; "do you withdraw your accusation
against Signor Mocenigo?"

" I acknowledge, your excellency," Signor Polani said, rising,
" that Euggiero Mocenigo has proved that he took no personal

W"VifJll.l'

22L.

the

I FEAR THAT HE WILL GO FREE.

part in the affair, but I will submit to you that this in no v.^ay
proves that he is not the author of the attempt He woulO
know that my first suspicion would fall upon him, and would
therefore naturally leave the matter to be carried out by others,
and would take precautions to enable him to prove, as he has
done, that he was not present. I still maintain that the
circumstances of the case, his threats to me, and the fact that
my daughter will naturally inherit a portion of what wealth I
might possess, and that, as I know and can prove, Euggiero
Mocenigo has been lately reduced to borrowing money of the
Jews, all point to his being the author of this attempt, which
would at once satisfy his anger against me for having declined
the honour of his alliance, and repair his damaged fortunes."

There were a few words of whispered consultation between
the councillors, and the doge then said:

"All present will now retire while the council deliberates.
Our decision will be made known to the parties concerned in
due time."

On leaving the palace Signer Polani and his friends walked
together across the Piazza, discussing the turn of events.

" He will escape," Polani said j " he has two near relations on
the council, and however strong our suspicions may be there is
really no proof against him. I fear that he will go free. I
feel as certain as ever that he is the contriver of the attempt;
but the precautions he has taken seem to render it impossible
to bring the crime home to him. However, it is no use talking
about it any more at present. You will, I hope, accompany me
home, Signer Francisco, and allow me to present you formally
to my daughters. They were too much agitated last night to
be able to thank you fully for th«» service you had rendered
them. Matteo, do you come with us."

Three days passed and no decision of the council had been
announced, when, early in the morning, one of the state

* \

IN THE STATE PRISON.

1^' ;

meniMngers brought an order that Francis should be in readi-
vieas at nine o'clock to accompany him. At that hour a gondola
drew up at the steps. It was a covered gondola, with hangings,
which prevented any from seeing who were within. Francis
took his seat by the side of the official, and the gondola started
at once.

"It looks very much as if I was being taken as a prisoner,"
Francis said to himself; "however, that can hardly be, for even if
Kuggiero convinced the council that he was wholly innocent of
this affair, no blame could fall on me, for I neither accused nor
identified him. However, it is certainly towards the prisons we
are going."

The boat indeed was passing the Piazzetta without stopping,
and turned down the canal behind to the prisons in rear of the
palace. They stopped at the water-gate close to the Bridge of
Sighs, and Francis and his conductor entered. They proceeded
along two or three passages until they came to a door where an
official was standing ; a word was spoken, and they passed in.

The chamber they entered was bare and vaulted, and contained
no furniture whatever, but at one end was a low stone slab
upon which something was lying covered with a cloak. Four
of the members of the council were standing in a group talking
when Francis entered. Signor Polani, with two of his friends,
stood apart at one side of the chamber. Ruggiero Mocenigo
also, with two of his companions, stood on the other side.
Francis thought that the demeanour of Ruggiero was somewhat
altered from that which he had assumed at the previous inves-
tigation, and that he looked sullen and anxious.

" We have sent for you, Francisco Hammond, in order that
you may, if you can, identify a body which was found last
night floating in the Grand Canal."

One of the officials stepped forward and removed the cloak,
showing on the stone slab the body of a young man. On the

THE BRUISE ON THE TEMPLE.

left temple there was an extensive bruise, and the skin was
broken.

" Do you recognize that bodyl"

" I do not recognize the face," Francis said, " and do not
know that I ever saw it before."

" The wound upon the temple which you see, is it such as
you would suppose would be caused by the blow you struck
an unknown person while he was engaged in attacking the
gondola of Signer Polanif

" I cannot say whether it is such a wound as would be caused
by a blow with an oar," Francis said; "but it is certainly as
nearly as possible on the spot where I struck the man, just as
he was leaping, sword in hand, into my gondola."

" You stated at your examination the other day that it was
on the left temple you struck the blow."

" I did so. I said at once that Signer Ruggiero Mocenigo
could not have been the man who led the assailants, because
had he been so he would assuredly have borne a mark from the
blow on the left temple."

"Look at the clothes. Do you see anything there which
could lead you to identify him with your assailant?"

" My assailant was dressed in dark clothes as this one was.
There was but one distinguishing mark that I noticed, and this
is wanting here. The light of the torch fell upon the handle
of a dagger in his girdle. I saw it biit for a moment, but I
caught the gleam of gems; it was only a passing impression, but
I could swear that he carried a small gold or yellow metal handled
dagger, and I believe that it was set with gems, but to this I
should not like to swear."

" Produce the dagger found upon the dead man," one of the
council said to an official.

And the officer produced a small dagger with a fine steel
blade and gold handle, thickly encrusted with gems.

■1« 1.

>.\

*l I!

FOUND GUILTY.

" I« this the dagger?" the senator asked Francia.

"I cannot say that it is tlie dagger," Francis replied; "but it
closely resembles it if it is not the same."

" You have no doubt, I suppose, seeing that wound on the
temple, tlie dagger found in the girdle, and the fact that the
body has evidently only been a few days in the water, that this
is the man whom yen s-ruck down in the fray on the canal !"

"Nn, ngn- ', I A) ^ i doub* whate.er that it is the same
person.'*

"That Will ?^-;' th*« council said, "you can retire; and we
thank you, in the name o' justice, for the evidence you have
given."

Francis was led back to the gondola and conveyed to his
father's house. An hour later Signer Polani arrived.

" The matter is finished," he said, " I cannot say satisfac-
torily to me, for the punishment is wholly inadequate to the
offence, but at anyrate he has not got off altogether unpunished.
After you left we passed from the prison into the palace, and
then the whole council assembled as before, in the council
chamber. I may tell you that the body which was found was
that of a cousin and intimate of Ruggiero Mocenigo; the two
have been constantly together since the return of the latter
from Constantinople. It was found by inquiry at the house
of the young man's father that he left home on the evening
upon which the attack was committed, saying that he was going
to the mainland and might not be expected to return for some
days.

" The council took it for granted from the wound in his
head, and the fact that a leech has testified that the body had
probably been in the water about three days, that he was the
man that was stunned by your blow and drowned in the canal,
Euggiero urged that the discovery in no way affected him; and
that his cousin had no doubt attempted to carry off my daugh-

THE SENTENCE.

ter on his own account. There was eventually a division among
the council on this point, but Maria was sent for, and on being
questioned testified that the young man had never spoken to
her, and that indee' she did not know him even by sight; and
the majority thereupon came to the conclusion that he could
only have been acting as an instrument of Kuggiero's.

We were not in the apartment while the deliberation was
going on, but when we returned the president announced that
although there was no absolute proof of Ruggiero's complicity in
the affair, yet that, considering his application for my daughter's
hand, his threats on my refusal to his rp-^uest, his previous
character, and his intimacy with his cousiu, tL i^ouncil had no
doubt that the attempt had been made • hi ^ stigation, and
therefore sentenced him to banishmerr frcnm Venice and the
islands for three years."

" I should be better pleased if the had sent him back to
Constantinople, or one of the islands Oi s^Le Levant," Mr. Ham-
mond said. " If he is allowed to take up his abode on the
mainland he may be only two or three miles away, which, in
the case of a man of his description, is much too near to be
pleasant for those who have incurred his enmity."

" That is true," Signor Polani agreed, " and I myself and my
friends are indignant that he should not have been banished to
a distance, where he at least would have been powerless for
fresh mischief. On the other hand, his friends will doubtless
consider that he has been hardly treated. However, as far as
my daughters are concerned, I will take good care that he shall
have no opportunity of repeating his attempt; for I have
ordered them, on no account whatever to be absent from the
palazzo after the shades of evening begin to fall, unless I my-
self am with them, and I shall increase the number of armed
retainers in the house by bringing some of my men on shore
from a ship which arrived last night in port I cannot believe

^ \

«^

FRANCIS AND THE MERCHANT'S FAMILY.

that even Euggiero would have the insolence to attempt to
carry them oflF from the house by force; but when one has to
deal with a man like this, one cannot take too great precautions."

" I have already ordered my son, on no account to be out
after nightfall in the streets. In his gondola I do not mind,
for unless the gondoliers wear badges, it is impossible to tell
one boat from another after dark. Besides, as he tells me, his
boat is so fast that he has no fear whatever of being overtaken,
even if recognized and chased. But I shall not feel comfortable
so long as he is here, and shall send him back to England on
the very first occasion that oflers."

" I trust that no such occasion may occur just yet, Signor
Hammond. I should be sorry, indeed, for your son to be
separated so soon from us. We must talk the matter over
together, and perhaps between us we may hit on some plan
by which, while he may be out of the reach of the peril he has
incurred on behalf of my family, he may yet be neither wasting
his time, nor altogether separated from us."

For the next fortnight Francis spent most of his time at the
Palazzo Polani. The merchant was evidently sincere in his
invitation to him to make his house his home; and if a day
passed without the lad paying a visit, would chide him gently
for deserting them. He himself was frequently present in the
balcony, where the four young people — for Matteo Giustiniani
was generally of the party — sat and chatted together, the
gouvernante sitting austerely by, with at times a strong expres-
sion of disapproval on her countenance at their laughter and
merriment, although — as her charges' father approved of the
intimacy of the girls with their young cousin and this English
lad — she could offer no open objections.

In the afternoon the party generally went for a long row in
a four-oared gondola, always returning home upon the approach
of evening. - ... • ..

THX DX^&NN^

To Francis this time was delightful. He had had no sister
of his own; and although he had made the acquaintance of a
number of lads in Venice, and had accompanied his father to
formal entertainments at the houses of his friends, he had never
before been intimate in any of their families. The gaiety and
high spirits of the two girls when they were in the house
amused and pleased him, especially as it was in contrast to the
somewhat stiff and dignified demeanour which they assumed
when passing through the frequented canals in the gondola.

" I do not like that woman Castaldi," Francis said one even-
ing as, after leaving the palazzo, Giuseppi rowed them towards
the Palazzo Giustiniani, where Matteo was to be landed.

" Gouvemantes are not popular as a class with young men/'
Matteo laughed.

"But seriously, Matteo, I don't like her; and I am quite
sure, that for some reason or other, she does not like me. I
have seen her watching me as a cat would watch a mouse she is
going to spring on."

" Perhaps she has not forgiven you, Francisco, for saving her
two chargea, and leaving her to the mercy of their assailants."

" I don't know, Matteo. Her conduct appeared to me at the
time to be very strange. Of course she might have been par-
alysed with fright, but it was certainly curious the way she
clung to their dresses, and tried to prevent them from leaving
the boat."

" You don't really think, Francis, that she wanted them to
be captured?"

" I don't know whether I should be justified in sajring as
much as that, Matteo, and I certainly should not say so to
anyone else, but I can't help thinking that such was the case.
I don't like her face, and I don't like the woman; she strikes
me as being deceitful She certainly did try to prevent my
carrying the girls off, and had not their dresses given way in

< »

SUSPIOIONS.

her hands she would have done so. Anyhow it strikes me that
Ruggiero must have had some accomplice in the house. How
else could he have known of the exact time at which they would
be passing along the Grand Canal ? for that the gondola was in
waiting to dash out and surprise thorn there is no doubt.

" I was asking Signora Giulia, the other day, how it was
fchey were so late, for she says that her father never liked their
being out after dusk in Venice, though at Corfu he did not care
how late they were upon the water. She replied that she did
not quite know how it happened. Her sister had said, some time
before, that she thought it was time to be going, but the
gouvernante — who was generally very particular — had said that
there was no occasion to hurry, as their father knew where they
were and would not be uneasy. She thought the woman must
have mistaken the time, and did not know how late it was. Of
course this proves nothing. Still I own that, putting all the
things together, I have my suspicions."

"It is certainly curious, Francisco, though I can hardly
believe it possible that the woman could be treacherous. She
has been for some years in the service of the family, and my
cousin has every confidence in her."

"That may be, Matteo; but Ruggiefo may have promised so
highly that he may have persuaded her to aid him. He could
have afforded to be generous if he had been successful."

" There is another thing, by the bye, Francisco, which did not
strike me at the time; but now you speak of it, maybe another
link in the chain. I was laughing at Maria about their
screaming, and saying what a noise the three of them must have
made, and she said, * Oh, no 1 there were only two of us — Giulia
and I screamed for aid at the top of our voices; but the signora
was as quiet and brave as possible, and did not utter a sound.'"

" That doesn't agree, Matteo, with her being so frightened
as to hold the girls tightly and almost prevent their escape, or

'*«'^'W«!"V

'('TOU BAYS MADE ME VERY UNCOMFORTABLE." 77

with the row she made, sobbing ar.d crying, when she came
back. Of course there is not enough to go ^ipon; and I
could hardly venture to speak of it to Signor Polani, or
to accuse a woman in whom he has perfect confidence of such
frightful treachery on such vague grounds of suspicion. Still
I do suspect her; and I hope when I go away from Venice you
will, as far as you can, keep an eye upon her."

"I do not know how to do that," Matteo said, laughing;
" but I will tell my cousins that we don't like her, and advise
them in future not on any account to stay out after dusk, even
if she gives them permission to do so; and if I learn anything
more to justify our suspicions, I will tell my cousin what you
and I think, though it won't be a pleasant thing to do. How-
ever, Ruggiero is gone now, and I hope we sha'u't hear any-
thing more about him."

'* I hope not, Matteo; but I am sure he is not the man to
give up the plan he has once formed easily, any more than he is
to forgive an injury. However, here we are at your steps. We
will talk the other matter over another time. Anyhow I am
glad I have told you what I thought, for it has been worrying
me. Now that I find you don't think my ideas about her
are altogether absurd, I will keep my eyes more open than ever
in future. I am convinced she is a bad one, and I only hope
we may be able to prove it."

" You have made me very uncomfortable, Francisco," Mat-
teo said as he stepped ashore; "but we will talk about it again
to-morrow."

" We shall meet at your cousin's in the evening. Before
tha time we had better both think over whether we ought to
tell anyone our suspicions, and we can hold a council in the
gondol'i on the way back."

Francis did think the matter over that night. lie ieh that
the fact told him by Giulia, that the gou vernante had herself been

^■M

> I

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Ik f
I

FRANCIS RELATES HIS SUSPICTJNS.

the means of their staying out later than usual on the evening
of the attack, added great weight to the vague suspicions he
had previously entertained; and he determined to let the matter
rest no longer, but that the next day he would speak to Signor
Polani, even at the risk of offending him by his suspicions of a
person whr> had been for some years in his confidence. Accor-
dingly he went in the morning to the palazzo, but found that
Signor Polani was absent, and would not be in until two or
three o'clock in the afternoon. He did not see the girls, who,
he knew, were going out to spend the day with some friends.
At three o'clock, he returned, and found that Polani had just
come ia

" Why, Francisco," the merchant said when he entered, "have
you forgotten that my daughters will be out all day?"

" No, signor, I have not forgotten that, but I wish to speak
to you. I dare say you will laugh at me, but I hope you will
not think me meddlesome or impertinent for touching upon a
subject which concerns you nearly."

"I am sure you will not be meddlesome or impertinent,
Francisco," Signor Polani said reassuringly, for he saw that the
lad was nervous and anxious. " Tell me what you have to say,
and I can promise you beforehand that whether I agree with
you or not in what you may have to say, I shall be in no way
vexed, for I shall know you have said it with the best
intentions."

" What I have to say, sir, concerns the Signora Castaldi,
your daughters' gouvernante. I know, sir, that you repose im.
plicit confidence in her; and your judgment, formed after years
of intimate knowledge, is hardly likely to be shaken by what
I have to tel) you. I spoke to Matteo about it, and, as he is
somewhat of my opinion, I have decided that it is at least my
duty to tell you all the circumstances, and you can then fom
your own conclusions "

f 'iii

,..i;<s^3Witli<l!UBH>lt>

POLANI'S VIEW OF THE MATTER.

Francis then related the facts known to him. First, that the
assail&nts of the gondola must have had accurate information as
to the hour at which they would come along; secondly, that it
was at the gouvernant*5's suggestion that the return had
been delayed much later than usual; lastly, that when the
attack took place the gouvernante did not raise her voice to
cry for assistance, and that she had at the last moment so
firmly seize "^ their dresses that it was only by tearing the girls
from her grasp thai he had been enabled to get them into the
boat.

"There may be nothing in all this," he said when he
had concluded. "But at least, sir, I thought that it was right
you should know it; and you will believe me that it is only
anxiety as to the safety of your daughters that has led me
to speak to you."

"Of that I am quite sure," Signer Polani said cordially, "and
you were perfectly right in speaking to me. I own, however,
that I do not for a moment think that the circumstances are
more than mere coincidences. Signora Castaldi has been with
me for upwards of ten years ; she has instructed and trained my
daughters entirely to my satisfaction. I do not say that she is
everything that one could wish, but, then, no one is perfect, and
I have every confidence in her fidelity and trustworthiness. I
own *,hat the chain you have put together is a strong one, and
had she but lately entered my service, and were she a person
of whom I knew but little, I should attach great weight to the
facts, although taken in themselves they do not amount to
much. Doubtless she saw that my daughters were enjoying
themselves in the society of my friends, and in her kindness of
heart erred, as she certainly did err, in allowing them to stay
longer than she should have done.

"Then, as to her not crying out when attacked, women
behave differently in cases of danger. Some scream loudly,

^1'

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■*1

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i:ii

f :

ill

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!i:

ill

'1^

80 "I SHALL OBRTAtNLT NOt NfiGLEOT tHB WARNING.'*

others are silent, as if paralysed by fear. This would seem to
have been her case. Doubtless she instinctively grasped the
girls for their protection. »»^d in her fright did not even perceive
that a boat had come alongside, or know that you were a friend
trying to save them. That someone informed their assailants
of the whereabouts of my daughters, and the time they were
coming home, is clear; but they might have been seen going to
the house, and a swift gondola have been placed on the watch.
Had this boat started as soon as they took their seat in the
gondola on their return, and hastened by the narrow canals to
the spot where their accomplices were waiting, they could have
warned them in ample time of the approach of the gondola
with my daughters.

" I have, as you may believe, thought the matter deeply over,
for it was evident to me that the news of my daughters' coming
must have reached their assailants beforehand. I was most
unwilling to suspect treachery on the part of any of my house-
hold, and came to the conclusion that the warning was given
in the way I have suggested. At the same time, Francisco, I
thank you deeply for having mentioned to me the suspicions
you hav«^ formed, and although I think that you are wholly
mistaken, I certainly shall not neglect the warning, but shall
watch very closely the conduct of my daughters' gouvernante,
and shall take every precaution to put it out of hei- power
to play me false, even while I cannot for a moment believe
she would be so base and treacherous as to attempt to
do so."

" In that case, signer, I shall feel that my mission 'has not
been unsuccessful, however mistaken I may be, and I trust
sincerely that I am wholly wrong. I thank you much for the
kind way in which you have heard me express suspicions of
a person in your confidence."

The gravity with which the merchant had heard Francis'

"MY COUSINS HAVE DISAPPEARED!"

he
of

story vanished immediately he left the room, and a smile came
over his face.

"Boys are boys all tha world over," he said to himself, "and
though my young friend has almost the stature ot a man, as
well as the quickness and courage of one, and has plenty of
sense in other matters, he has at once the prejudices and the
romantic ideas of a boy. Had Signora Castaldi been young and
pretty, no idea that she was treacherous would have ever
entered his mind; but what young fellow yet ever liked a
gouvemante, who sits by and works at her tambour frame with
a disapproving expression on her face, while he is laughing and
talking with a girl of his ow:i age. I should have felt the
same when I was a boy; still to picture the poor signora as a
traitoress in the pay of that villain Mocenigo is too absurd. I
had the greatest dilEculty in keeping my gravity when he was
unfolding his story; but he is an excellent lad nevertheless, a
true, honest, brave lad, witL a little of the blulfness that they
say all his nation possess, but with a heart of gold, unless I
am greatly mistaken."

At seven o'clock, Francis was just getting into his gondola
to go round again to Signer Polani's, when another gondola
came along the canal at the top of its speed, und he recognized
at once the badge of the Giustiniani. It stopped suddenly as it
came abreast of his own boat, and Matteo, in a state of the highest
excitement, jumped from his own boat into that of Francis.

"What is the matter, Matteo? What has happened?"

"I have terrible news, Francisco. My cousins have both
disappeared."

" Disappeared 1*' Francis repeated in astonishment "How
have they disappeared?"

" Their father has just been round to see mine ; he is half
mad with grief and anger. You know they had gonv» to spend
the day at the Persanis' "

(458) f

I ,i

TREACHERY.

!' >-

f 1 ■

"Yes, yes," Francis exclaimed; "but do go on, Matteo. Tell
me all about it quickly."

"Well, it seems that Polani, for some reason or other, thought
he would go and fetch them himself, and at five o'clock he
arrived there in his gondola, only to find that they had left two
hours before. You were right, Francisco, it was that beldam
Castaldi ; she went with them there in the morning and left
them there, and was to have come in the gondola for them
at six. At three o'clock she arrived saying that their father
had met with a serious accident, having fallen down the steps
of one of the bridges and broken his leg, and that he had sent
her to fetch them at once.

" Of course they left with her instantly. Polani questioned
the lackeys, who had aided them to embark. They said that
the gondola was not one of his boais, but was apparently a hired
gondola, with a closed cabin. The girls had stopped in surprise
as they came down the steps, and Mari? said, * Why, this is not
our gondola!' Castaldi replied, *Nc, no; our own gondolas
had both gone off to find and bring a leech, and as your father
was urgently wanting you, I hailed the first passing boat.
Make haste, dears, your father is 'onging for you.' So they
got on board at once, and the gondola rowed swiftly away.
That is all I know about it, except that the story was a lie,
that their father never sent for them, and that up to a quarter
of an hour ago they had not reached home."

.a«MibSMUR'^

CHAPTER V.

FINDING A CLUB.

HIS is awful, Matteo./' Francis said, when his
friend had finished his story. "What is to he
done?"

"That is just the thing, Francisco; what is to
be done? My cousin has been already to the city magistrates
to tell them what has taken place, and to request their aid in
discovering where the girls have been carried to. I believe that
he is going to put up a proclamation, announcing that he will
give a thonsand ducats to whomsoever will bring information
which will enable him to recover the girls. That will set every
gondolier on the canals on the alert, and some of them must
surely have noticed a closed gondola rowed by two men, for at
this time of year very few gondolas have their covers on. It
seems to be terrible not to be able to d anything, so I came
straight off to tell you."

" You had better send your gondola ome, Matteo, it may
be wanted. We will paddle out to the lagoon and talk it over;
surely there must be something to be one, if we could but
think of it. This is terrible, indeed, Matteo," he repeated, after
they had sat without speaking for so le minutes. "One feels
quite helpless and bewildered. To think that only yesterday
evening we were laughing and chatting with them, and that
now they are lost and in the power of that villain Mocenigo, who

< \'

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■'i h y,

V^' )

V I J,

WHAT IS TO BB DONBt

you may be sure is at the bottom of it By the way," he said
suddenly, "do you know vrhere he has taken up his abode 1"

" I heard that he was at Botonda near Chioggia a week ago,
but whether he is there still I have not the least idea."

" It seems to me that the thing to do is to find him, and keep
him in sight. He will probably have them hidden away some-
where, and will not go near them for some time, for he will
knoTf that he will be suspected and perhaps watched."

"But why should he not force Maria to marry him at oncel"
Matteo said. "You see when he has once made her his wife
he will be safe, for my cousin would be driven then to make
terms with him for her sake."

"He may try that," Francis said; "but he mast know that
Maria has plenty of spirit, and may refuse to marry him,
threaten her as he will. He may think that after she has been
kept confined for some time and finds that there is no hope of
escape, except by consenting to be his wife, she may give way.
But in any case, it seems to me that the thing to be done is to
find Ruggiero, and to watch his movements."

"I have no doubt my cousin has already taken steps in that
direction," Matteo said, "and I feel sure that in this case he
will receive the support of every influential man in Venice
outside the Mocenigo family and their connections. The carry-
ing oflFof ladies in broad daylight will be regarded as a personal
injury in every family. The last attempt was different ; I do
not say, it was not bad enough, but it is not like decoying
girls from home by a false message. No one could feel safe if
such a deed as this were not severely punished."

" Let us go back again, Matteo. It is no use our thinking
of anything until we know what has really been done, and you
are sure to be able to learn at home what steps have been
taken."

On reaching home Matteo learned that Polani, accompanied

• A ' i^^^g ;

ENERQETIC MEASURES.

by two members of the council, had already started in one of
the swiftest of the state galleys for the mainland. A council
had been hastily summoned, and upon hearing Polani's narra-
tive had despatched two of their number, with an ofl&cial of
the republic, to Botonda. If Ruggiero was found to be still
there, he was to be kept a prisoner in the house in which he
was staying under the strictest watch; if he had left, orders
were to be sent to every town in the Venetian dominions
on the mainland for his arrest when discovered, and in that
case he was to be sent a prisoner, strongly guarded, to Venice.

Other galleys had been simultaneously despatched to the
various ports, ordering a strict search of every boat arriving or
leaving, and directing a minute investigation to be made as to
the occupants of every boat that had arrived during the evening
or night. The fact that a thousand ducats were offered for
information which would lead to the recovery of the girls,
was also to be published far and w'^e.

The news of the abduction haa j^n^ad, and the greatest indig-
nation was excited in the city. The sailors from the port of
Malamocco came over in great numbers. They regarded this
outrage on the family of the great merchant as almost a personal
insult. Stones were thrown at the windows of the Palazzo
Mocenigo, and an attack would have been made upon it had
not the authorities sent down strong guards to protect it
Persons belonging to that house, and the families connected
with it, were assaulted in the streets, and all Venice was in an
uproar.

" There is one comfort," Giuseppi said, when he heard from
Francis what had taken place; "just at present Mocenigo
will have enough to think about his own affairs without
troubling about yoa I have been in a tremble ever since
that day, and have dreamed bad dreams every night."

" You are more nervous for me than I am for myself, Giu-

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;,' |ij'

A CHANGE or PLANS.

■■ •ii^

Bcppi; but I have been careful too, for although Ruggiero
himself was away his friends are here, and active too, as you
see by this successful attempt; but I think that at present
they are likely to let matters sleep. Public opinion is jireatly
excited over the afl'air, and as, if 1 were foun<.l with a stab in
my back, it would, after what has passed, be put down to them,
I think they will leave me alone."

" I do hope, father," Francis said at breakfast the next
morning, "that there may be no opportunity of sending me
back to England until something is heard of the Polanis."

"I have somewhat changed my mind, Francis, as to that
matter. After what ttignor Po!ani said the other day, I feel
that it wnMli be foolish forme to adhere to that plan; with his
immense trade and business connections he can do almost
anything for you, and such an introduction into business is so
vastly better than your entering my shop in the city, that
it is best in every v/ay that you should stay here for the
present. Of course for th^^ time he will be able to think of
nothing but his missing daughters; but at any rate you can
remain here until he has leisure to pursue the subject, and to
state fu/i;her than he did the other day what he proposes for
you. My '>wn business is a good one for a London trader,
but it is nothing by the side of the transactions of the mer-
chant princes at Venice, among the very first of whom Signor
Polani is reckoned."

Francis was greatly pleased at his father's words. He
had, ever since Polani had spoken to him, btgn pondering
the matter in his mind; he knew that to eiter business
under his protection would be one of the best o^ienings that
even Venice could afford; but his father was slow to change
his plans, and Francis greatly feared that he would adhere to
his original plan.

" I was hoping, father, that you would think favourably of

iJ i i ' i Si^

"YOUR WARNING MADE ME UNEASY."

what Signor Polani said, although, of course, I kept silence,
knowing ihat you would do what was best for me. And now
I would ask you if you will, until this matter is cleared up,
excuse me from my tasks. I should learn nothing did I
continue at them, for my mind would be ever running upon
Signor Polani's daughters, and I should be altogether too rest-
less to apply myself. It seems to me, too, that I might, as I
row here and there in my gondola, obtain some clue as to their
place of o.oncealment."

"I do not see how you could do that, Francis, when so
many others, far better qualified than yourself, will be on the
look-out. Still, as I agree with you that you are not likely to
apply your mind diligently to your tasks, and as indeed you
will shortly be giving them up altogether, I grant your
request"

Polani returned in the evening to Venice. Ruggiero Mocenigo
had been found. He professed great irdignation at the accusa-
tion brought against him of being concerned in the abduction
of the ladies, and protested furiously v hen he heard that, until
they were found, he was to consider himself a prisoner.

Signor Polani considered that his indignation was feigned,
but he had no doubt as to the reality of his anger at finding
that he was to be confined to his house under a guard. Imme-
diately after his return, Polani sent his gondola for Francis; he
was pacing up and down the room when the lad arrived.

" Your suspicions have turned out correct, as you see, Francis ;
would to Heaven I had acted upon them at once, and then this
would not have happened. It seemed to me altogether absurd
when you spoke to me, that the woman I have for years treated
as a friend should thus betray me; and yet your warning made
me uneasy, so much so, that I set off myself to fetch them
home at five o'clock, only to find that I was too late. I
scarcely Know why I have sent for you, Francis, except that as

< \

"THAT IS WHAT I CALCULATED."

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I have found to my cost that you were more clear-sighted in
this matter than I, I want to know what you think now, and
whether any plan offering even a chance of success has occurred
to you. That they have been carried off by the friends of
Mocenigo I have no doubt whatever."

" I fear, signor," Francis said, " that there is little hope of
my thinking of anything that has not already occurred to you.
It seems to me hardly likely that they can be in the city,
although, of course, they may be confined in the house of
Mocenigo's agents. Still they would be sure that you would
offer large rewards for their discovery, and would be more
likely to take them right away; besides, I should think that it
was Mocenigo's intention to join them, wherever they may be,
as soon as he learned that they were in the hands of his accom-
plices. Your fortunate discovery that they had gone, so soon
after they had been carried off, and your going straight to him
armed with the order of the council, probably upset his calcu-
lations, for it is likely enough that his agents had not arrived
at the house, and that he learned from you for the first time
that his plans had succeeded. Had you arrived two or three
hours later you might have found him gone."

" That is what I calculated, Francisco. His agents had but four
hours' start of me, they would no doubt carry the girls to the
place of concealment chosen, and would then bear the news to
him; whereas I, going direct in one of the state gondolas, might
reach him before they did, and I feel assured that I did so. It
was nigh midnight when I arrived, but he was still up, and I
doubt not awaiting the arrival of the villains he had employed.
My first step was to set a watch round the house, with the order
to arrest any who might come and inquire for him. No one
however came.

"The news indeed of the sudden arrival of a state galley
at that hour had caused some excitement in the place, and his

THE PROCLAMATIONS.

agents might well have heard of it upon their arrival. 1 agree
with you in thinking tliey are not in the town, but this makes
the search all the more difTicult ; the question is, what ought we
to do next?"

" The reward that you have oflFered will certainly bring you
news, signor, if any, save those absolutely concerned, have
observed anything suspicious; but I should send to all the
fishing villages on the islets and on the mainland, to publish
the news of the reward you have offered; beyond that I do
not see that anything can be done ; and I too have thought of
nothing else since Matteo brought me the news of their being
carried off. It will be of no use that I can see going among
the fishermen and questioning them, because with such a
reward in view it is certain that anyone who has anything to
tell will come of his own accord to do so."

" I know that is the case already, Francisco; the authorities
have been busy all day with the matter, and a score of reports
as to closed gondolas being seen have reached them ; but so far
nothing has come of it. Many of these gondolas have been
traced to their destinations, but in no case was there anything
to justify suspicion. Happily as long as Mocenigo »o in con-
finement I feel that no actual harm will happen to the girls;
but the villain is as crafty as a fox, and may elude the vigi-
lance of the officer in charge of him. I am going to the council
presently to urge that he should be brought here as a prisoner;
but from what I hear there is little chance of the request being
complied with; his friends are already declaiming on the injus-
tice of a man being treated as a criminal when there is no
shadow of proof forthcoming againe-t him; and the disturbances
last night have angered many who have no great friendship
for him, but who are indignant at the attack of the populace
upon the houF oi a noble. So you see that there is but faint
chance that they would bring him hither a prisoner."

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"I WILL DO MY BEST."

" I think, sir, that were I in your case I should put some
trusty men to watch round the house where he is confined; so
that in case he should escape the vigilance of his guards they
might seize upon him. Everything depends, as you say, upon
his being kept in durance."

" I will do so, Francisco, at once. I will send to two of my
officers at the port, and tell them to pick out a dozen men on
whom they can rely, to proceed to Botonda and to watch
closely every one who enters or leaves the house, without at
the same time making themselves conspicuous. At any rate
they will be handy there in case Mocenigo's friends attempt
to rescue him by force, which might be done with success,
for the house he occupies stands at a short distance out of the
town, and the official in charge of Mocenigo has only eight men
with him

" Yes, your advice is excellent, and I will follow it at once.
Should any other idea occur to 3'^ou pray let me know it
immediately. You saved my daughters once, and although
I know there is no reason why it should be so, still I feel
a sort of belief that you may somehow be instrumental in their
again being brought back to me."

" I will do my best, sir, you may depend upon it," Francis
said earnestly- " Were they my own sisters I could not feel
more strongly interested in their behalf."

Francis spent the next week almost entirely in his gondola.
Starting soon after daybreak with Giuseppi, he would row
across to the villages on the mainland and make inquiries of
all sorts there, or would visit the little groups of fishermen's
huts built here and there on posts among the shallows. He
would scan every house as he passed it, with the vague hope
that a face might appear at the window or a hand be waved
for assistance. But during all that time he had found
nothing which seemed to offer the slightest clue, nor were the

THE DUENNA.

inquiries set on foot by Signor Polani more successful. Every
piece of information which seemed to bear in the slightest
degree upon the affair was investigated, but in no case was it
found of the slightest utility.

One evening he was returning late, tired by the long day's
work, and discouraged with his utter want of success, when,
just as he had passed under the Ponto Maggiore, the lights on
the bridge fell on the faces of the sitters in a gondola coming
the other way. They were a' man and a woman. The latter
was closely veiled. But the night was close and oppressive,
and just at the moment when Francis' eyes fell upon her she
lifted her veil for air. Francis recognized her instantly. For
a moment he stopped rowing, and then dipped his oar in as
before. Directly the other gondola passed through the bridge
behind him, and his own had got beyond the circle of light, he
swept it suddenly round. Giuseppi gave an exclamation of
surprise.

" Giuseppi, we have luck at last. Did you notice that gon-
dola we met just now ? The woman sitting in it is Castaldi,
the woman who betrayed the signoras."

"What shall we do, Messer Francisco?" Giuseppi, who had
become almost as interested in the search as his master, asked.
" There v/as only a single gondolier and one other man. If we
take them by surprise we can master them."

" That will not do, Giuseppi. The woman would refuse to
speak, and though they could force her to do so in the
dungeons, the girls would be sure to be removed the moment
it was known she was captured. We must follow them and
see where they go to. Let us get well behind them so that we
can just make them out in the distance. If they have a suspi-
cion that they are being followed they will land her at the first
steps and slip away from us."

" They are landing now, signor," Giuseppi exclaimed directly

"KEEP YOUR BYE UPON IT."

afterwards "Shall we push on and overtake them on
shore?"

"It is too late, Giuseppi They are a hundred and dfty
yards away, and would have mixed in the crowd and be lost
long before we should get ashore and follow them. Row on
fast, but not over towards that side. If the gondola moves
off we will make straight for the steps and try to follow
them, though our chance of hitting upon them in the narrow
lanes and turnings is slight indeed. But if, as I hope, the
gondola stops at the steps, most likely they will return to it in
time. So we will row in to the bank a hundred yards farther
up the canal and wait."

The persons who had been seen in the gondola had disap-
peared when they came abreast of it, and the gondolier had
seated himself in the boat with the evident intention of waiting.
Francis steered his gondola at a distance of a few yards from
it as he shot past, but did not abate his speed, and continued
to row till they were three or four hundred yards farther up
the canal. Then he turned the gondola and paddled noiselessly
back until he could see the outline of the boat he was watching.
An hour elapsed before any movement was visible. Then
Francis heard the sound of footsteps, and could just make out
the figures' of persons descending the steps and entering, the
gondola. Then the boat moved out into the middle of the
canal, where a few boats were still passing to and fro.
Francis kept his gondola close by the bank so as to be in the
deep shade of the houses. The boat they were following again
passed under the Ponto Maggiore, and for some distance fol-
lowed the line of the Grand Canal

" Keep your eye upon it, Giuseppi. It is sure to turn off one
way or the other soon, and if it is too far ahead of us when it
does so then it may give us the slip altogether."

But the gondola continued its course the whole length of the

Mk^f

A NARROW E3GAFB.

canal, and then straight on until, nearly opposite St Mark's,
it passed close to a larger gondola with four rowers coming
slowly in the other direction, and it seemed to Francis that the
two boats paused when opposite each other, and that a few
words were exchanged. Then the boat they were watching
turned out straight into the lagoon. It was rather lighter
here than in the canal bordered on each side by houses, and
Francis did not turn the head of his gondola for a minute or
two.

"It will be very difficult to keep them in sight out here
without their making us out," Giuseppi said.

" Yes, and it is likely enough that they are only going out
there in order that they may be quite sure that they are not
followed before striking off to the place they want to go to.
They may possibly have made us out, and guess that we are
tracking them. They would be sure to keep their eyes and
ears open."

" I can oily just make them out now, Messer Francisco, and
as we shall have the buildings behind us they will not be able
to see us as well as we can see them. I think we can go

now.

" We will risk it at any rate, Giuseppi. I have lost sight
of them already, and it will never do to let them give us the
slip."

They dipped their oars in the water, and the gondola darted
out from the shore. They had not gone fifty strokes when
they heard the sound of oars close at hand.

"To the right, Giuseppi, hardl" Francis cried as he glanced
over his shoulder.

A sweep with both oars brought the gondola's head in a
moment almost at right angles to the course that she had been
pursuing, and the next sent her dancing on a new line just as
a four-oared gondola swept down upon them, missing their stem

BAFFLED.

I- !

by only three or four feet. Had they been less quick in turn-
ing the iron prow would have cut right through their light
boat

Giuseppi burst into a torrent of vituperation at the careless-
ness of the gondoliers who had so nearly run into them, but
Francis silenced him at once.

" Eow, Giuseppi, it was done on purpose. It is the gondola
the other spoke to."

Their assailant was turning also, and in a few seconds was
in pursuit Francis understood it now. The gondola they had
been following had noticed them, and had informed their friends
waiting off St Mark's of the fact Intent upon watching the
receding boat, he had paid no further attention to the four-
oared craft, which had made a turn, and lay waiting in readi-
ness to run them down should they follow in the track of the
other boat

Francis soon saw that the craft behind them was a fast one,
and rowed by men who were first-rate gondoliers. Fast as his
own boat was flying through the water, the other gained upon
them steadily. He was heading now for the entrance to the
Grand Canal, for their pursuer, in the wider sweep he had
made in turning, was nearer to the Piazza than they were, and
cut off their flight in that direction.

"Keep cool, Giuseppi," he said, "they will be up to us in a
minute or two. When their bow is within a yard or two of us,
and I say, 'Now!* sweep her head straight round towards the
lagoon. We can turn quicker than they can. Then let them
gain upon us and we will then turn again."

The gondola in pursuit came up hand over hand. Francis
kept looking over his shoulder, and when he saw its bow gliding
up within a few feet of her stern he exclaimed "Nowl" and
with a sudden turn the gondola again swept out seaward.

Their pursuer rushed on for a length or two before she could

SAFK ON SHORE.

■weep round, while a volley of imprecations and threats burst
from three men who were standing up in her with drawn
swords. Francis and Giuseppi were now rowing less strongly
and gaining breath for their next effort. When the gondola
again came up to them they swept round to the left, and as
their pursuers followed they headed for the Grand Canal.

"Make for the steps of Santa Maria church. We will
jump out there and trust to our feet."

The two lads put out all their strength now. They were
some three boats' lengths ahead before their pursuers were
fairly on their track. They were now rowing for life, for they
knew that they could hardly succeed in doubling again, and
that the gondola behind them was so well handled that the}*
could not gain on it at the turnings were they to venture into
the narrow channels. It was a question of speed alone, and so
hard did they row that the gondola in pursuit gained but slowly
on them, and they were still two lengths ahead when they
dashed up to the steps of the church.

Simultaneously they sprang on shore, leaped up the steps, and
dashed off at the top of their speed, hearing, as they did so, a
crash as the gondola ran into their light craft. There was a
moment's delay, as the men had to step across their boat to
gain the shore, and they were fifty yards ahead before they
heard the sound of their pursuers' feet on the stone steps; but
they were lightly clad and shoeless, and carried nothing to
impede their movements, and they had therefore little fear of
being overtaken. After racing on at the top of their speed for
a few minutes they stopped and listened. The sound of their
pursuers' footsteps died away in the distance; and, after taking
a few turns to put them off their track, they pursued their way
at a more leisurely pace.

" They have smashed the gondola," Giuseppi said with a sob,
for he was very proud of the light craft

ON THE TRAOK AT LAST.

i :

" Never mind the gondola^" Francis said cheerfully; " if they
had smashed a hundred it would not matter."

" But the woman has got away and we have learned nothing/'
Giuseppi said, surprised at his master's cheerfulness.

"I think we have learned something, Giuseppi; I think we
have learned everything. I have no doubt the girls are confined
in that hut on San Nicolo. I wonder I never thought of it
before; but I made so sure that they would be taken somewhere
close to where Mocenigo was staying that it never occurred to
me that they might hide them out there. I ought to have known
that that was just the thing they would do, for while the search
would be keen among the islets near the land, and the villages
there, no one would think of looking for them on the seaward
islands. I have no doubt they are there now. That woman
came ashore to report to his friends, and that four-oared boat
which has chased us was in waiting off St. Mark's to attack
any boat that might be following them. We will go to Signor
Polani at once and tell him what has happened. I suppose it
is about one o'clock now, but I have not noticed the hour; it
was past eleven before we first met the gondola, and we must
have been a good deal more than an hour lying there waiting
for them."

A quarter of an hour's walking took them to the palazzo of
Polani. They rang twice at the bell at the land entrance before
a face appeared at the little window of the door and asked who
was there.

" I wish to see Signor Polani at once," Francis said.

" The signor retired to rest an hour ago," the man said.

" Never mind that," Francis replied. " I am Francis Ham-
mond, and I have important news to give him."

As soon as the servitor recognized Francis' voice he unbarred
the door.

" Have you news of the ladies?" he asked eagerly.

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" I have news which will, I hope, lead to something," Francis
replied.

A moment later the voice of Polani himself, who, although
he had retired to his room, had not yet gone to sleep, was
heard at the top of the grand stairs inquiring who it was who
had come so late; for although men had been arriving all day
with reports from the various islands and villages, he thought
that no one would come at this hour unless his news were
important Francis at once answered :

"It is I, Signor Polani, Francis Hammond. I have news
which I think may be of importance, although I may be mis-
taken; still, it is certainly news that may lead to some-
thing."

The merchant hurried down.

"What is it, Francisco? What have you learned?"

"I have seen the woman Castaldi, and have followed her.
I do not know for certain where she was going, for we have
been chased by a large gondola and have narrowly escaped
with our lives; still I have a clue to their whereabouts."

Francis then related the events of the evening.

" But why did you not run into the boat and give the alarm
at once, Francisco? Any gondolas passing would have given
their assistance when you declared who she was, for the affair
is the talk of the city. If that woman were in our power we
should soon find means to make her speak."

" Yes, signor; but the moment she was known to be in your
power you may be sure that they would remove your daughters
from the place where they have been hiding them. I thought,
therefore, the best plan would be to track them. No doubt
we should have succeeded in doing so had it not been for the
attack upon us by another gondola."

" You are right, no doubt, Francisco. Still, it is unfortunate,
for I do not see that we are now any nearer than we were

< \

(468)

SAN NIOOLO.

before, except that we know that this woman is in the habit of
coming into the city."

"I think we are nearer, sir, for I had an adventure some
time ago that may afford a clue to their hiding-place."

He then told the merchant how he had one evening taken a
man out to San Nicolo, and had discovered that a hut in that
island was used as a meeting- place by various persons, among
whom was Ruggiero Mocenigo.

"I might have thought of the place before, signor; but, in
fact, it never entered my mind. From the first we considered
it so certain that the men who carried off your daughters would
take them to some hiding-place where Mocenigo could speedily
join them that San Nicolo never entered my mind. I own
that it was very stupid, for it seems now to me that the
natural thing for them to do would be to take them in the
very opposite direction to that in which the search for them
would be made."

The story had been frequently interrupted by exclamations
of surprise by Polani. At its conclusion he laid his hand on
Francis' shoulder.

" My dear boy," he said, " how can I thank you I You seem
to me to be born to be the preserver of my daughters. I
cannot doubt that your suspicion is correct, and that they are
confined in this hut at San Nicolo. How fortunate that you
did not denounce this conspiracy — for conspiracy no doubt it
is — that you discovered, for, had you done so, some other place
would have been selected for the girls' prison."

*' I would not be too sanguine, sir. The girls may not be in
this hut, still we may come on some clue there which may lead
us to them; if not, we will search the islands on that side as
closely as we have done those on the mainland."

"Now, shall I send for the gondoliers and set out at once?
There are ten or twelve men in the house, and it is hardly

FRANCIS SKETOHBS A PLAN.

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" I do not think I would do anything to-night, sir," Francis
said; "the gondola that chased us will be on the alert Thoy
cannot, of courae, suspect in tlie slightest that we have any clue
to the hiding-place of your daughters, still they might think
that if we were really pursuing the other gondola and had
recognized the woman Castaldi, we might bring the news to
you, and that a stir might be made; they may therefore be
watching to see if anything comes of it; and if they saw a
bustle and gondolas setting out taking the direction of the
island, they might set off and get there first, for it is a very
fast craft, and remove your daughters before we reach the hut

"I should say wait till morning. They may be watching
your house now, and if in an hour or two they see all is quiet
they will no doubt retire with the belief that all danger is at
an end. Then, in the morning, I would embark the men in
two or three gondolas, but I would not start from your own
steps, for no doubt your house is watched. Let the men go out
singly and embark at a distance from here, and not at the same
place. Once out upon the lagoon, they should row quietly
towards San Nicolo, keeping a considerable distance apart, the
men lying down in the bottom as the boats approach the
island, so that if anyone is on watch he will have no suspicion.

" As I am the only one that knows the position of the hut
I will be with you in the first gondola. We will not land near
the hut, but pass by and land at the other end of the island;
the other gondolas will slowly follow us and land at the same
spot; then three or four men can go along by the sea face,
with orders to watch any boats hauled up upon the shore there
and stop any party making down towards them. The rest of us
will walk straight to the hut, and, as it lies among sand-hills,

'■n

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100

"AN EXCELLENT PRECAUTION/

I hope we shall be able to get quite close to it before oiir
approach is discovered."

"An excellent plan, Francisco, though I am so impatient
that the night will seem endless to me ; but certainly your plan
is the best. Even if the house is watched and you wore seen
to enter, if all remains perfectly quiet they will naturally sup-
pose that the news you brought was not considered of sufficient
importance to lead to any action. You will, of course, remain
here till morning?"

" I cannot do that, sir, though I will return the first thing.
There is lying on my table a paper with the particulars and
names of the persons I saw meet in this hut, and a request to
my father that if I do not return in the morning he will at
once lay this before the council. I place it there every day
when I go out, in order that, if I should be seized and carried
ofif by Mocenigo's people, I should have some means of forcing
them to let me go. Although I know absolutely nothing of
the nature of the conspiracy, they will not know how much
I am aware of, or what particulars I may have given in the
document; and as I could name to them those present, and
among them is the envoy of the King of Hungary now in the
city, they would hardly dare harm me, when they knew that if
they did so this affair would be brought before the council."

" It was an excellent precaution, Francisco. Why, you are
as prudent and thoughtful as you are courageous!"

"It was not likely to be of much use, sir," Francis said
modestly. " I was very much more likely to get a stab in the
back than to be carried off. Still, it was just possible that
Mocenigo might himself like to see his vengeance carried out,
and it was therefore worth my while guarding against it; but,
as you see, it will be necessary for me to be back sometime
before morning."

"At any rate, Francisco, you had better wait here until

until

"WE WILL START AT SEVEN. "

101

morning breaks. Your rooia is not likely to be entered for
some hours after that; so while I am preparing for our expe-
dition, you can go out and make your way to the Grand Canal,
hail an early gondola, and be put down at your own steps,
when, as you have told me, you can enter the house without
disturbing anyone; then you can remove that paper and return
here in the gondola. We will start at seven; there will be
plenty of boats about by that time, and the lagoon will be
dotted by the fishermen's craft, so that our gondolas will
attract no attention."

"Perhaps that will be the best plan, signor; and, indeed, I
should not be sorry for a few hours' sleep, for Giuseppi and T
have been in our boat since a very early hour in the morning,
and were pretty well tired out before this last adventure began."

-^^^^

CHAPTER VL

THE HUT ON SAN NICOLO.

T seven o'clock all was in readiness for a start. Signer
Polani set out alone in his gondola, and picked up
Francis and four men at a secluded spot some dis-
tance from the house. A messenger had heen sent
two hours before to the captain of one of the merchant ships
lying in the port He at once put ten men into a iarge boat
and rowed down to within half a mile of the island. Here a
grapnel was throMTi overboard, most of the men lay down in
the bottom, and the captain, according to his instructions, kept
a sharp look-out to see that no boat left San Nicolo — his instruc-
tions being to overhaul any boat coming out, and to see that no
one was concealed on board it. There he remained until Polani's
gondola rowed past him. After it had gone a few hundred yards
the grapnel was got up, the men took to their oars and followed
the gondola, keeping so far behind that it would not seem there
was any connection between them.

Franpis made for the narrow channel which separated San
Nicolo from the next island, and then directed the gondola to
be run ashore, where a low sand-hill close by hid them from
the sight of any one on the look-out. A few minutes later the
ship's boat arrived. Francis now led the way direct for the
hut, accompanied by Polani and six men, while four sailors

THE HUT ENTERED.

103

advanced at a distance of a hundred yards on either flank to
cut oflF any one making for the water.

" We may as well go fast," he said, "for we can scarcely get
there without being seen by a look-out should there be one on
the sand-hills, and the distance is so short that there will be
no possibility of their carrying your daughters off before we get
there."

" The faster the better," the merchant said. " This suspense
is terrible."

Accordingly, the party started at a brisk run. Francis kept
his eyes on the spot where he believed the hut lay.

" I see no one anywhere near there," he said, as they came
over one of the sand ridges. " Had there been any one on the
watch I think we should see him now."

On they ran, until, passing over one of the sand-hills, Francis
came to a stand-still. The hut lay in the hollow below them.

"There is the house, signer; now we shall soon know."

They dashed down the short slope and gathered round the
door.

"Within there, open!" the merchant shouted, hammering
with the hilt of his sword on the door.

All was silent within.

"Break it down!" he said; and two c? the sailors, who had
brought axes with them, began to hew away at the door. A
few blows an(I it suddenly opened, and two men dressed as
fishermen appeared in the doorway.

"What means this attack upon the house of quiet people!"
they demanded.

" Bind them securely," Polani said, as he rushed in, followed
closely by Francis, while those who followed seized the men.
Polani paused as he crossed the threshold, with a cry of disap-
pointment — the hut was empty. Francis was almost equally
disappointed.

i ^ . W

:¥

y \\

104

A OLUB DISCOVERED.

, •■ M

" If they are not here, they are near by," Francis said to PoIanL
" Do not give up hope. I am convinced they are not far oflF.
and if we search we may find a clue. Better keep your men
outside; we can search more thoroughly by ourselves."

The merchant told his men, who had seized and were binding
the two occupants of the hut, to remain outside. The inside
of the hut differed in no way from the ordinary dwelling of
fishermen, except that a large table stood in the middle of it,
and there were some benches against the walls. Some oars
stood in one corner, and some nets were piled close to them.
A fire burned in the open hearth, and a pot hung over it and
two others stood on the hearth.

" Let us see what they have got here," Francis said, while
the merchant leaned against the table with an air of profound
depression, paying no attention to what he was doing.

" A soup," Francis said, lifting the lid from the pot over the
fire, "and, by the smell, a good one." Then he Ufted the other
pots simmering among the burning brands. " A ragout of kid
and a boiled fish. Signor Polani, this is no fisherman's meal;
either these men expect visitors of a much higher degree than
themselves, or your daughters are somewhere close. Oh ! there
is a door."

" It can lead nowhere," Polani said. " The sand is piled up
to the roof on that side of the house."

"It is," Francis agreed; "but there maybe a lower room
there completely covered with the sand; at any rate we will see."

He pushed against the door, but it did not give in the slightest-

" It may be the sand," he said, "it may be bolts."

He went to the outside door and called in the sailors with the
hatchets.

" Break open that door," he said. " There is a space behind,"
he exclaimed, as the first blow was givea " It is hollow, I
swear; it would be a different sound altogether if sand was

^2e:' . . ...

FOUND 1

105

piled up against it" A dozen blows and the fastenings gave,
and, sword in hand, the merchant and Francis rushed through

Both gave a shout of delight They were in a room built
out at the back of the hut It was richly furnished, and hang-
ings of Eastern stuffs covered the walls. A burning lamp hung
from the ceiling. Two men stood irresolute with drawn swords,
having apparently turned round just as the door gave way, for
as it did so two figures struggled to their feet from a couch
behind them, for some shawls had been wrapped round their
heads, and with a cry of delight rushed forward to meet their
rescuers. Seated at the end of the couch, with bowed-down
head, was another female figure.

"Maria — Giulia!" the merchant exclaimed, as, dropping his
sword, he clasped his daughters in his arms.

Francis, followed by the two sailors with hatchets, advanced
towards the men.

" Drop your swords and surrender," he said. " Eesistance is
useless; there are a dozen men outside."
; The men threw their swords down on the ground.

"Lead them outside and bind them securely," Francis said.

For the next minute or two few words were spoken. The
girls sobbed with delight on their father's breast, while he him-
self was too moved to do more than murmur words of love and
thankfulness. Francis went quietly out and spoke to the captain,
who went in to the inner room, touched the sitting figure on the
shoulder, and, taking her by the arm, led her outside.

"Come in, Francis," Polani called a minute later. "My
dears, it is not me you must thank for your rescue, it is your
English friend here who has again restored you to me. It is
to him we owe our happiness, and that you, my child, are saved
from the dreadful fate of being forced to be the wife of that
villain Mocenigo. Embrace him, my dears, as a brother, for

V'A-

106

MARIA'S STORY.

II!

'« *

he has done more than a brother for you. And now tell me
all that has happened since I last saw you."

" You know, father, the message that was brought us, that
you had beeu hurt and wanted us home 1 "

" Yes, my dears, that I learned soon afterwards. I went at
five o'clock to fetch you home, and found that you had gone,
and why."

" Well, father, directly we had taken our seats in the cabin
of the gondola our gouvernante closed the doors, and soon
afterwards she slid to the two shutters before the windows.
We cried out in surprise at finding ourselves in the dark, but
she bade us be quiet in a tone quite different to any in which
she had ever spoken to us before. We were both frightened,
and tried to push back the shutters and open the door, but they
were fastened firmly. I suppose there was some spring which
held them. Then we screamed; but I could feel that the inside
was all thickly padded. I suppose our voices could not be heard
outside. I thought so, because once I thought I heard the
gondoliers singing, but it was so faint that I could not be sure.
Then the air seemed stiflingly close, and I fainted; and when I
came to myself one of the windows was open, and Giulia said
she had promised we would not scream, but I think we were
beyond the canals then, for I could see nothing but the sky as we
passed along. When I was better the windows were almost
shut again, so that we could not see out, though a little air
could get in; then the gondola went on for a long time. At
last it stopped, and she said we must be blindfolded. We said
we would not submit to it, and she told us unless we let her do
it the men would do it. So we submitted, and she wrapped
shawls closely over our heads. Then we were helped ashore,
and walked some distance. At last the shawls were taken off
our heads and we found ourselves here, and here we have been
ever since." .

"WHERE ARE WBI"

107

** You have not been ill-treated in any way, my children?"
the merchant asked anxiously.

"Not at all, father; until to-day, nobody has been into this
i:oom besides ourselves and that woman. The door was generally
left a little open for air, for you see there are no windows here.
She used to go into the next room and come back with our food.
We could see men moving about in there, but they were very
quiet, and all spoke in low tones. You may think how we up-
braided our gouvernante for her treachery, and threatened her
with your anger. She told us we should never be found, and
that I might as well make up my mind to marry Ruggiero
Mocenigo, for if I did not consent quietly means would be found
to compel me to do so. I said I would die first, but she used to
laugh a cruel laugh and say he would soon be here with the
priest, and that it mattered not whether I said yes or no, the
ceremony would be performed, and then Ruggiero would sail
away with me to the East, and I should be glad enough then
to make peace between him and you; but he never came. I
think she became anxious, for she went away twice for three
or four hours, and locked us in here when she went. That,
father, is all we know about it. Where are wel"

"You are at San Nicolo."

" On the island 1 " Maria exclaimed in surprise. " She told
us we were on the mainland. And now, how did you find us ? "

" I will tell you as we go home, Maria."

"Yes, that will be better, father. Giulia and I long for a
breath of fresh air and the sight of the blue sky."

" Giulia has not had so much to frighten her as you have,"
her father said.

"Yes, I have, father; for she said I was to go across the seas

* with Maria, and that Ruggiero would soon find a husband for

me among his friends. I told her she was a wicked woman

over and over again, and we told her that we were sure you

108

"SHALL WB PUT A TORCH TO THIS PLAOBI"

would forgive and even reward her if she would take us back
again to you. When she was away we thought we would
try to make our escape behind, and we made a little hole in
the boards; but the sand came pouring in, and we found we
were underground, though how we got there we didn't know,
for we had not come down any steps. So we had to give up
the idea of escape."

"You are partly underground," her father said, "for, as you
will see when you get out, the sand has drifted up at the back
of the hut to the roof, and has altogether hidden this part of
the hut; so that we did not know that there was more than
one room, and I should never have thought of breaking into
that door had it not been for Francisco. And now come along,
my dears; let us wait here no longer."

The sailors and servitors broke into a cheer as the girls came
out of the hut.

" Shall we put a torch to this place?" Francis asked Polani

"No, Francisco; it must be searched thoroughly first ,Cap-
tain Lontano, do you order four of your men to remain here
until some of the officials of the state arrive. If anyone comes
before that, they must seize them and detain them as prisoners.
The state will investigate the matter to the bottom."

Now that they were in the open air the merchant could see
chat the close confinement and anxiety had told greatly upon
his daughters; both were pale and hollow-eyed, and looked as
if they had suffered a long illness. Seeing how shaken they
were he ordered one of the retainers to go to the gondola, and
tell the men to row it round to the nearest point to the hut;
the party then walked along down to the shore.

In a few minutes the gondola arrived; Polani, his two daugh-
ters, and Francis took their places in it; the four men, bound
hand and foot, were laid in the bottom of the ship's boat; the
gouvemante was made to take her place there also, and the

i i i » j i i ». ii. li| i ^j ii ;; i in. .iti I ' '' "i.lUfc ..

"WB SHALL LOVE HIM ALL OUR LIVES."

109

) US back
76 would
) hole in
found we
I't know,
> give up

)r, as you
the back
is part of
lore than
king into
me along,

Tirls came

i Polani
rst .Cap-
aain here
)ne comes
prisoners.

could see
atly upon
looked as
iken they
idola, and
> the hut;

wo daugh-
en, bound
boat; the
, and the

*:i

sailors were told to follow closely behind the gondola, which
was rowed at a very slow pace. On the way Polani told his
daughters of the manner in which Francis had discovered the
place of concealment.

" Had it not been for him, my dears, we should certainly not
have found you, and that villain would have carried out his
plans sooner or later. He would either have given his guards
the slip, or, when no evidence was forthcoming against him,
they would have been removed. He would then have gone
outside the jurisdiction of the republic, obtained a ship with a
crew of desperadoes, sailed round to the seaward side of San
Nicolo, and carried you off. Nothing could have saved you,
and your resistance would, as that woman told you, have been
futile."

"We shall be grateful to you all our lives, Francisco," Maria
said. "We shall pray for you always, night and morning, shall
we not, Giulia?"

"Yes, indeed," the young girl said simply; "we shall love
him all our lives."

"Answer for yourself, Giulia," Maria said with a laugh, her
spirits returning in the bright sunshine and i'resh air. "When
Francisco asks for my love, it will be quite soon enough to
say what I think about it."

"I should never have courage enough to do that, signora.
I know what you would say too well."

"What should I say?" Maria asked.

"You would say I was an impudent boy."

Maria laughed.

" I cannot think of you as a boy any longer, Francisco," she
said more gravely. " I have, perhaps, regarded you as a boy
till now, though you did save us so bravely before; but you
see you are only my own age, and a girl always looks upon a
boy of her own age as ever so much younger than she is herself.

il'il

■ill

I ! i

■'ii;ll

■ill

110

THE merchant's PLANa

Besides, too, you have none of the airs of being a man, which
some of my cousins have ; and never pay compliments or say
pretty things, but seem altoget' er like a younger brother.
But I shall think you a boy no more. I know you better now."

"But I am a boy," Francis said, "and I don't want to be
thought anything else. In England we keep young longer than
tliey do here, and a boy of my age would not tliink of speaking
to his elders unless he was first addressed. What are you going
to do with your prisoners, signorl"

"I shall take them direct to my house, and then go and report
the recovery of my daughters and their capture. Officials
will at once be sent with a gondola to take them off to the
prison. There can be no question now as to the part Mocenigo
has played in this business, and no doubt he will be brought
here a prisoner at once. Even his nearest connections will not
dare to defend conduct so outrageous, especially when public
indignation has been so excited. You do not know, girls, what
a stir has been caused in the city on your account. If it had
not been for the citizen guard I believe the Mocenigo Palace
would have been burned down, and Ruggiero's connections
have scarcely dared to show their faces in the streets since you
have been missing. You see every father of a family felt per-
sonally grieved, for if the nobles were permitted with impunity
to carry off the daughters of citizens, who could feel safel
When this is all over I shall take you for a time back to our
home in Corfu. It is not good for girls to be the subject of
public talk and attention."

"I shall be very glad, father," Giulia said. "I love our home
at Corfu, with its gardens and flowers, far better than the palazzo
here. The air is always soft and balmy, while here it is so hot
sometimes by day and so damp and foggy in the evening. I
shall be glad to go back again."

"And you, Maria?" '

A JOYFUL RECEPTION.

Ill

, which
t or say
brother.
If now."
it to be
rer than
peaking
)u going

i report
Officials
f to the
[ocenigo
brought
will not
1 public
pis, what
I it had
) Palace
oections
ince you
felt per-
mpunity
el safet
i to our
ibject of

[ir home
I palazzo
s so hot
ling. I

" I shall be very happy there, father, but I like Venice best."

"You arc getting to an age to enjoy gaiety, Maria; and it is
natural you should do so. However, it will not be necessary
fur you to be long absent. In a city like Venice there are
always fresh subjects for talk, and the most exciting piece of
scandal is but a three days' wonder. A few weeks at Corfu
will restore your nerves, which cannot but have been shaken
by what you have gone tli rough, and you will come back here
more disposed than ever to appreciate the gaieties of Venice."

"As long as it ip for only a few weeks, father, I shall not
care; for you know I am very fond, too, of our beautiful home
there. Still I do like Venice."

They had now reached the steps of the Palazzo Polani.
They had not proceeded by way of the Grand Canal, as the
merchant was anxious that his daughters should reach their
home unrecognized, as, had they be^n noticed, it would have
given rise to no little excitement, and they had had more than
enough of this, and needed quiet and repose. Besides, until
the prisoners were in the safe custody of the officials of the
state it was in every way desirable that the events of the
morning should remain unknown.

Their return home created quite a tumult of joy in the
house. The preparations that had been made had been kept
a profound secret, as the merchant could not be sure but that
some other member of his househoi^^ was in the pay of Mo-
cenigo. Thus until the girls alighte c the steps none in the
house were aware that any clue had been obtained as to their
hiding-place. The women ran down with cries of joy; the
men would have shouted and cheered, had not Polani held up
his hand.

" The signoras have had more than enough excitement," he
said. " They are grateful to you for your good- will and affec-
tion, but for the present they need quiet. They may have

ii^

113

THE FATE OF THE OOMDOLA.

through to-day. I

that no word as to

iHi;!

their return be said outside the house. I would not that the
news were whispered in the city till the seignory decide what
is to be done in the matter."

As soon as the girls had gone upstairs to their rooms the
ship's boat came alongside and the prisoners were carried into
the house, glances of indignation and anger being cast at the
gouvernante, who had, as soon as she was placed on board the
boat, closely veiled herself; and some of the women broke out
into threats and imprecations.

" Captain Lontano, the servants will show you a room where
your men can guard the prisoners. You had better remain
with them yourself. Let no one except your own men enter
the room."

Giuseppi was on the steps, and Francis stepped up to him
and eagerly asked, "What news of the gondola?"

"I found her stove in and full of water behind the piles
close to the steps. Someone must have pushed her there to be
out of the way of the traffic. She has several holes in her
bottom, besides being stove in at the gunwale where the other
boat struck her. They must have thrust the ends of their oars
through her planks out of sheer spite when they found that we
had escaped them. Father and I have towed her round to
your steps, but I doubt whether she is worth repairing."

"Well, we can't help it, Giuseppi. She has done her work;
and if every two ducats I lay out were to bring in as good a
harvest I should have no reason to complain."

Having seen the prisoners safely placed, the merchant re-
turned.

" I think, Francisco, you must go with me. They will be
sure to want to question you."

"I shall have to say what were my reasons for thinking
your daughters were hid in that hut, signer," Francis said as

/•

as to

A the
; vhat

ns the
d into
at the
ird the
)ke out

1 where

remain

)ji enter

to him

he piles .
5re to he

in her
he other
heir oars

that we
ound to .

er work;
good a

:hant re-

wiU he

[thinking
said as

**I AM Not GOING tO tBLL A LIB ABOUT IT." Hi

th^ gdtidola rowed towards St. Mark's; "and I can only do
that hy telling of that secret meeting. I do not want to de-
nounce a number of people besides Kuggiero. I have no evi-
dence against them, and do not know what they were plotting,
nor have I any wish to create for myself more enemies. It is
quite enough to have incurred the enmity of all the connections
of the house of Mocerigo."

" That is true enough, Francisco, but I do not see how it is
to be avoided; unfortunately you did recognize others besides
Ruggiero."

" Quite so, signor, and I am not going to tell a lie about
it, whatever the consequences may be; still I wish I could get
oat of it."

" I wish you could, Francis, but I do not see any escape fox
it, especially as you say you did not recognize Ruggiero as the
passenger you carried."

"No, signor, I did not; it might have been he, but I can-
not say; he was wrapped in a cloak, and I did not see his
features."

" It is a pity, Francisco, for had you known him the state-
ment that, moved by curiosity, you followed him and saw him
into that hut, would have been sufficient without your entering
into the other matter. Most of my countrymen would not
hesitate about tellings a lie to avoid mixing themselves up
further in such a matter, for the dangers of making enemies
are thoroughly appreciated here; but you are perfectly right,
and I like your steady love of the truth whatever the conse-
quences to yourself; but certainly as soon as the matter is
concluded, it will be better for you to quit Venice for a time."

" Are you going to the council direct, signor 1"

"No; I am going first to the magistrates to tell them that
I have in my hands five persons who have been engaged in
cKtTjmg off my daughters, and beg them to send at once to

(4W) H

POLANI KEEPS THE SECREt.

iiiifi

I ;

take them into their custody; then I shall go before the
council and demand justice upon Mocenigo, against whom we
have now conchisive evidence. You will not be wanted at the
magistracy; my own evidence that I found tliem keeping guard
over my daughters will be quite sufKciont fur the present, and
after that the girls' evidence will be sufficient to convict them
without your name appearing in the aflair at all. I will try
whether I cannot keep your name from appearing before the
council also. Yes, I think I might do that; and as a first step
I give you my promise not to name you unless I find it
absolutely necessary. You may as well remain here in the
gondola until I return."

It was upwards of an hour before Signor Polani came back
to the boat.

" I have succeeded," he said, ** in keeping your name out of
it. I first of all told my daughters' story, and then said that,
having obtained information that Ruggiero, before he was
banished from Venice, was in the habit of going sometimes at
night to a hut on San Nicole, I proceeded thither, and found
my daughters concealed in the hut whose position had been
described to me. Of course they inquired where I had obtained
the infoiTOation; but I rei)lied that, as they knew, I had offered
a large reward which would lead to my danjrhfors' discovery,
and that this reward had attracted one i; the secret of
Mocenigo, but that for the man's own safety I had been com-
pelled to promise that I would not divulge his name.

"Some of the council were inclined to insist, but others
pointed out that for the ends of justice it mattered in no
way how I obtained the information. I had at any rate
gone to the island and found my daughters there; and their
evidence, if it was in accordance with what I had stated,
was amply sufficient to bring the guilt of the abduction of my
daughters home to Ruggiero, against whom other circumstances

"I HAVE MUCH TO SAY tO HIM.**

116

I the
m we
it the
guard
t, and

them
ill try
re the
•st step
find it

in the

back

le out of
aid that,
he was
times at
id found
lad been
obtained
,d offered
iscovery,
secret of
leen com-

;it others
3d in no
any rate
etnd their
Jd stated,
f on of my
limstances

had already excited suspicion. A galley has already started
for th<) mainland with orders to bring him back a prisoneri
and the girls are to appear to give evidence tomorrow; the
woman Castaldi is to be interrogated by the council this after-
noon, and I have no doubt she will make a full confession,
seeing that my daughters' evidence is in itself sufliciont to
prove her guilt, and that it can be proved from other sources
that it was she who inveigled them away by a false message
from me."

" I am glad indeed, signer, that I am not to be called, and
that this affair of the conspiracy is not to be brought up. I
would with your permission now return home. Giuseppi took
a message to my father from me the first thing explaining my
absence, and I told him when we left your house to go at once
to tell him that your daughters had been recovered, and that
I should return before long. Still he will want to hear from
me as to the events of the night."

"Will you also tell him, Francisco, that I will call upon
him this afternoon. I have much to say to him."

" I am glad Signer Polani is coming," Mr. Hammond said
when his son gave him the message. " I am quite resolved that
you shall quit Venice at once. I do not wish to blame you
for what you have done, which, indeed, is likely to have a
favourable effect upon your fortunes; but that at your age you
have mixed yourself up in adventures of this kind, taken
part in the affairs of great houses, and drawn upon yourself
the enmity of one of the most powerful families of Venice, is
altogether strange and improper for a lad of your years and
belonging to the family of a quiet trader. I have been think-
ing about it all this morning, and am quite resolved that the
sooner you are out of Venice the better; if I saw any way of
sending you off before nightfall I would do so.

"Signer Polani has, you say, so far concealed from the

< >

MR. HAMMOND IS ALARMED.

council the fact that you have been mixed up in this business;
but there is no saying how soon it may come out. You know
that Venice swarms with spies, and these are Hkely before
many hours to learn the fact of your midnight arrival at
Polani's house; and as no orders were given for the prepara-
tion of this expedition to the island before that time, it will
not need much penetration to conclude that you were the
bearer of the news that led to the discovery of the maidens;
besides which, you accoinnanied the expedition and acted as
its guide to the hut. Part of this they will learn from the
servants of the house, part of it they may get out from the
sailors, who, over their wine-cups, are not given to reticence.
The council may not have pressed Polani on this point, but,
take my word for it, some of them at least will endeavour to
get to the bottom of it, especially Mocenigo's connections, who
will naturally be alarmed at the thought that there is some-
where a traitor among their own ranks.

" The affair has become very serious, Francis, and far beyond
the compass of a boyish scrape, and no time must be lost in
getting you out of Venice. I have no doubt Polani will see
the matter in the same light, for o knows the ways of his
countrymen even better than I do."

The interview between the two traders was a long one; at
its conclusion Francis was sent for.

" Francis," his father said, " Signor Polani has had the
kindness to make me offers of a most generous nature."

"Not at all, Messer Hammond," the Ven'.tian interrupted;
" let there be no mistake upon that score. Your son has ren-
dered me services im])ossible for me ever to repay adequately.
He has laid me under an obligation greater than I can ever
discharge. At the same time, fortunately, I am in a position
to be able to further his interests in life. I have proposed,
Franeisco, that you shall enter my house at once. You will, of

A QENEROUS OFFER.

117

iness;
know
before

val a>t
:eparar
it will
)re the
aidens ;
cted as
om the
•om the
5ticence.
int, but,
avour to
ons, who
is some-

beyond

lost in

will see

rs of his

one; at

had the

[errupted;

has ren-
lequately.

can ever
la position
1 proposed,
)u will, of

course, for some years learn the business, but you will do so iu
the position which a son of mine would occupy, and when you
come of age you will take your place as a partner with me.

" Your father will return to England. He informs me that
he is now longing to return to his own country, and has for
some time been thinking of doing so. I have proposed to him
that he shall act as my agent there. Hitherto I have not
traded direct with England; in future I shall do so largely.
Your father has explained to me somewhat of his transactions,
and I see there is good profit to be made on trade with
London by a merchant who has the advantage of the advice
and assistance of one, like your father, thoroughly conversant in
the trade. Thus I hope that the arrangement will be largely
to our mutual advantage. As to yourself, you will probably be
reluctant to establish yourself for life in this country ; but there
is no reason why in time, when your father wishes to retire
from business, you should not establish yourself in London
in charge of the English branch of our house."

" I am most grateful to you for your oifer, signer, which
is vastly beyond anything that my ambition could ever have
aspired to. I can only say that I will try my best to do
justice to your kindness to me."

" I have no fear as to that, Francisco," the merchant said ;
" you have shown so much thoughtf ulness in this business that
I shall have no fear of intrusting even weighty affairs of busi-
ness in your hands; and you must remember always that I
shall still consider myself your debtor. I thoroughly agree
with your father's views as to the necessity for your leaving
Venice as soon as possible. In a few months this matter will
have blown over, the angry feelings excited will calm down,
and you will then be able to come and go in safety; but at
present you were best out of the town, and I have therefore
arranged with your father that you shall embark to-ni^t

< »

I , ' 'I

118

A GREAT FUTURE.

on board the BonitOy which sails to-morrow. You will have
much to say to your father now, but I hope you will find
time to come round and say good-bye to my daughters this
evening."

" Your adventures, Francis," Mr. Hammond said when the
merchant had left them, " have turned out fortunate indeed.
You have an opening now beyond anything we could have
hoped for. Signer Polani has expressed himself most warmly.
He told me that I need concern myself no further with your
future, for that would now be his affair. The arrangement
that he has made with me will enable me to hold my
head as high as any in the City, for it will give me almost
a monopoly of the Venetian trade ; and although he said that
he had long been thinking of entering into trade direct with
England, there is no doubt that it is his feeling towards you
which has influenced him now in the matter

"My business here has more than answered my expecta-
tions in one respect, but has fallen short in another. I have
bought cheaply, and the business should have been a very
profitable one; but my partner in London is either not acting
fairly by me, or he is mismanaging matters altogether. This
offer, then, of Signor Polani is in every respect acceptable. I
shall give up my own business and start anew, and selling, as I
shall, on commission shall run no risk, while the profits will be
far larger than I could myself make, for Polani will carry it on
on a great scale. As for you, you will soon learn the ways
of trade, and will be able to come home and join me, and
eventually succeed me in the business.

" No fairer prospect could well open to a young man, and if
you show yourself as keen in business as you have been ener-
getic in the pursuits you have adopted, assuredly a great future
is open to you, and you may look to be one of the greatest
merchants in the city of London. I know not yet what offers

JHaNtMmWMP"

GIUSEPPI'S GRIEF.

119

lave
find
this

I the

deed.

have

tnnly.
your
Binent
d my
almost
d that
ct with
:ds you

xpecta-
I have
a very
, acting
, This
Ible. I
ng, as I

will be
Ty it on

e ways
e, and

and if

ken ener-

it future

greatest

lat offers

Polani may make you here, but I hope that you will not settle
in Venice permanently, but will always remember that you are
an Englishman and the son of a London citizen, and that you
will never lose your love for your native land. And yet do not
hurry home for my sake. Your two brothers will soon have
finished their schooling, and will, of course, be apprenticed to
me as soon as I return; and if, as I hope, they turn out steady
and industrious they will, by the time they come to man's
estate, be of great assistance to me in the business. And now,
you will be wanting to say good-bye to your friends. Be careful
this last evening, for it is just when you are thinking most of
other matters that sudden misfortune is likely to come upon
you."

Delighted with his good fortune — rather because it opened
up a life of activity instead of the confinement to business that
he had dreaded, than for the pecuniary advantages it offered —
Francis ran down-stairs, and leaping into his father's gondola
told Beppo to take him to the Palazzo Giustiniani. On the
waj he told Beppo and his son that the next day he was
leaving Venice, and was going to enter the service of Signor
Polani. Giuseppi ceased rowing, and, throwing himself down
at the bottom of the gondola, began to sob violently, with the
abandonment to his emotions common to his race; then he
suddenly sat up.

" If you are going, I will go too, Messer Francisco. You will
want a servant who will be faithful to you. I will ask the
padrone to let me go with you. You will let me go, will you not,
father? I cannot leave our young master, and should pine
away were I obliged to stop here to work a gondola, while he
may be wanting my help, for Messer Francisco is sure to get into
adventures and dangers. Has he not done it here in Venice?
and is he not sure to do it at sea, where there are Genoese and
pirates, and perils of all kinds? You will take me with you,

lLi.U

h 'i

GIUSEPPl'S REQUEST GRANTED. .

will you not, Messer Francisco 1 You will never be so hard-
hearted as to go away and leave me beliindl"

" I shall be very glad to have you with me, Giuseppi, if your
father will give you leave to go. I am quite sure that Signor
Polani will make no objection. In the first place, he would do
it to oblige me, and in the second, I know that it is his intention
to do something to your advantage. He has spoken to me
about it several times, for you hal your share of the Qanger
when we first rescued his daughters, and again when we were
chased by that four-oared gondola. He has been too busy with
the search for his daughters to give the matter his attention,
but I know that he is conscious of his obligation to you, and
that he intends to reward you largely; therefore I am sure
that he will offer no objection to your accompanying me. What
do you say, Beppol'

" I do not like to stand in the way of the lad's wishes, Messer
Francisco, but, you see, he is of an age now to be very useful
to me. If Giuseppi leaves me I shall have to hire another hand
for the gondola, or to take a partner."

" Well, we will talk it over presently," Francis said. " Here
we are at the steps of the palazzo, and here comes Matteo
himself. It is lucky I was not five minutes later, or I should
have missed him."

"=3^

mwi\fi'ijmwX^m^H>;*,>:^

CHAPTER VIL

ON BOARD A TRADER.

AVE you heard the news, Francisco 1 My cousins
are rescued! I have been out this morning and
have only just heard it, and I was on the point of
starting to tell you."

" Your news is old, Matteo. I knew it hours ago."

" And I hear," Matteo went on, " that Polani found them in
a hut on San Nicolo. My father cannot think how he came
to hear of their hiding-place; he says Polani would not say
how he learned the news. My father supposes he heard it from
some member of Ruggiero's household."

Francis hesitated for a moment. He had at first been on
the point of telling Matteo of the share he had had in the
recovery of the girls; but he thought that although his friend
could be trusted not to repeat the news wilfully, he might
accidentally say something which would lead to the fact being
known, and that as Polani had strongly enjoined the necessity
of keeping the secret, and had himself declined to mention,
even to the council, the source from which he obtained his
information, he would look upon him as a babbler and un-
worthy of trust did he find that Matteo had been let into
the secret.

" It does not much matter who it is Polani learned the news
from. The great point is he has found his daughters safe from

< \

" I

122

I CONGRATULATE YOU, FRANCISCO.'

MkriiM

i'l

all injury, and I hear has brought back with him the woman
who betrayed them. It is fortunate indeed that he took such
prompt measures with Ruggioro, and thus prevented his escaping
from the mainland and making off with the girls, as of course
he intended to Jo."

" My father tells me," Matteo said, " that a state gondola has
already been despatched to bring Ruggiero a prisoner here, and
that even his powerful connections will not save him from
severe punishment, for public indignation is so great at the
attempt that his friends will not venture to plead on his behalf."

"And now I have my bit of news to tell you, Matteo. Signor
Polani has most generously offered me a position in his house,
and I am to sail to-morrow in one of his ships for the East."

"I congratulate you, Francisco, for I know from what you
have often said that you would like this much better than
going back to England. But it seems very sudden, you did
not know anything about it yesterday, and now you are going
to start at once. Why, when can it have been settled 1 Polani
has been absent since daybreak, engaged in this matter of the
girls, and has been occupied over since with the council."

" I have seen him since he returned," Francis replied ; " and
though it was only absolutely settled this morning, he has had
several interviews with my father on the subject. I believe
he and my father thought that it was better to get me away
as soon as possible, as Ruggiero's friends may put down the
disgrace which has befallen him to my interference in his first
attempt to carry off the girls."

" Well, I think you are a lucky fellow anyhow, Francisco,
and I hope that I may be soon doing something also. I shall
speak to my father about it, and ask him to get Polani to let me
take some voyages in his vessels, so that I may be fit to become
an officer in one of the state galleys as soon as I am of age.
Where are you going now?" . -

and

had

elieve

away

the

s first

"YOU ARE THE HEROINES OP THE DAY."

123

" I am going round to the School of Arms to say good-bye to
our comrades; after that I am going to Signer Polani's to pay
my respects to the signoras; tlien I shall be at home with my
father till it is time to go on board. He will have left here
before I return from my voyage, as he is going to wind up his
affairs at once and return to England."

"Well, I will accompany you to the school and to my
cousin's," Matteo said. " I shall miss you terribly here, and shall
certainly do all I can to follow your example and get afloat.
You may have all sorts of adventures, for we shall certainly be
at war with Genoa before many weeks are over, and you will
have to keep a sharp look-out for their war galleys. Polani's
ships are prizes worth taking, and you may have the chance of
seeing the inside of a Genoese prison before you return."

After a visit to the School of Arms the two friends were
rowed to Signor Polani's. The merchant himself was out, but
they were at once shown up to the room where the girls were
sitting.

"My dear cousins," Matteo said as he entered, "I am
delighted to see you back safe and well. All Venice is talking
of your return. You are the heroines of the day. You do
not know what an excitement there has been over your
adventure."

" The sooner people get to talk about something else the
better, Matteo," Maria said, " for we shall have to be prisoners
all day till something else occupies their attention. We have
not the least desire to be pointed at, whenever we go out, as the
maidens who were carried away. If the Venetians were so in-
terested in us, they had much better have set about discovering
where we were hidden away before."

"But everyone did try, I can assure you, Maria. Every
place has been ransacked, high and low. Every gondolier has
been questioned and cross-questioned as to his doings on that

' ill

' 1

"FRANCISCO IS DIFFERENT."

'i i-

111

day. Every fishing village has been visited. Never was such
a search, I do believe. But who could have thought of your
being hidden away all the time at San Nicolo! As for me, I
have spent most of my time in a gondola, going out and staring
up at every house I passed, in hopes of seeing a handkerchief
waved from a casement. And so has Francisco; he has been
just as busy in the search as anyone, I can assure you."

" Francisco is different," Maria said, not observing the signs
Francis was making for her to be silent. " Francisco has got
eyes in his head and a brain in his skull, which is more, it
seems, than any of the Venetians have; and had he not brought
father to our hiding-place, there we should have remained until
Ruggiero Mocenigo came and carried us away."

"Francisco brought your father the news!"Matteo exclaimed
in astonishment. " Why, was it he who found you out, after
all?"

" Did you not know that, Matteo? Of course it was Fran-
cisco! As I told you, he has got brains; and if it had not been
for him we should certainly never have been rescued. Giulia
and I owe him everything — don't we, Giulia?"

" Forgive me for not telling you, Matteo," Francis said to his
astonished friend; "but Signoi: Polani and my father both
impressed upon me so strongly that I should keep silent as to
my share in the business, that I thought it better not even to
mention it to you at present. It was purely the result of an
accident."

"It was nothing of the sort," Maria said; "it was the result
of your keeping your eyes open and knowing how to put two
and two together. I did not know, Francisco, that it was a
secret. We have not seen our father since we have returned,
and I suppose he thought we should see nobody until he saw
us again, and so did not tell us that we were not to mention
your name in the affair; but we will be careful in future."

f '' ■; 1

!l M

"what! ark YOtJ GOING AWAYI**

126

"But hove was it, Francisco?" Matteo a»ked. " Now I know
so much as thi», I suppose I can be told the rest I can under-
stand well enough why it was to be kept a secret, and why my
cousin is anxious to get you out of Venice at once."

Francis related the manner in which he first became
acquainted with the existence of the hut on the island and
the fact of its being frequented by Ruggiero Mocenigo, and
how, on catching sight of the gouveniante in a gondola, and
seeing her make out across the lagoons, the idea struck him
that the girls were confined in the hut.

" It is all very simple, you 3ee, Matteo," he concluded.

" I will never say anything against learning to row a gon-
dola in future," Matteo said, " for it seems to lead to all sorts
of adventures; and unless you could have rowed well, you
would never have got back to tell the story. But it is certain
that it is a good thing you are leaving Venice for a time, for
Ruggiero's friends may find out the share you had in it from
some of my cousin's servants. You may be sure that they
will do their best to discover how he came to be informed
of the hiding-place, and he is quite right to send you off at

once.

"What! are you going away, Francisco?" the two girls ex-
claimed together.

"I am sailing to-morrow in one of your father's ships,

signoras.

"And you are not coming back again?" Maria exclaimed.

" I hope to have the pleasure of seeing you again before very
long, signora. I am entering your father's service for good,
and shall be backwards and forwards to Venice as the ship comes
and goes. My father is returning to England, and Signor
Polani has most kindly re(] nested me to make my home with
him whenever I am in port."

"That is better," Maria said. "We should have a pretty

' m

II h

ill

126

THAT WILL BE VSRY PLEASANT.

quarrel with papa if he had let you go away altogether, after
what you have done for us — shouldn't we, Giulia?"

But Giulia had walked away to the window, and did not
seem to hear the question.

"That vdll be very pleasant," Maria went on; "for you will
be back every two or three months, and I shall take good care
that papa does not send the ship off in a hurry again. It will
be almost as good as having a brother; and I look upon you
almost as a brother now, Francisco — and a very good brother
too. I don't think that man will molest us any more. If I
thought there was any chance of it, I should ask papa to keep
you for a time, because I should feel confident that you would
manage to protect us somehow."

" I do not think there is the slightest chance of more trouble
from him," Francis said. " He is sure of a long term of im-
prisonment for carrying you off."

" That is the least they can do to him, I should think,"
Maria said indignantly. " I certainly shall not feel comfortable
while he is at large."

After half an hour's talk Francis and his friend took their
leave.

"You certainly were born with a silver spoon in your
mouth," Matteo said as they took their seats in the gondola,
" and my cousin does well to get you out of Venice at once,
for I can tell you there are scores of young fellows who would
feel jealous at your position with my cousins."

"Nonsense!" Francis said, colouring. "How can you talk
so absurdly, Matteo ? I am only a boy, and it will be years
before I could think of marriage. Besides, your cousins are
said to be the richest heiresses in Venice; and it is not because
I have been able to be of some slight service to them that I
should venture to think of either of them in that way."

"We shall see," Matteo laughed. "Maria is a little too

if I

le too

"the thing is absurd."

12T

old for you, I grant, but Giulia will do very well ; and as you
have already come, as Maria says, to be looked upon by them
as a brother and protector, there is no saying as to how she
may regard you in ' ' her two or three years."

"The thing is absurd, Matteo," Francis said impatiently;
" do not talk such nonsense any more."

3Iatteo lay back in his seat and whistled.

" I will say no more about it at present, Francisco," he said,
after a pause ; " but I must own that I should be well content
to stand as high in the good graces of my pretty cousins as
you do." •

The next morning Francis spent come time with his father
talking over future arrangements.

*' I have no doubt that I sliall see you sometimes, Francis;
for Polani will be sure to give you an opportunity of making a
trip to England from time to time, in one of his ships trading
thither. Unless anything unexpected happens, your future
appears assured. Polani tells me he shall always regard you
in the light of a son; and I have no fear of your doing
anything to cause him to forfeit his good opinion of you. Do
not be over adventurous, for even in a merchant ship there are
many perils to be met with. Pirates swarm in the Mediter-
ranean, in spite of the efforts of Venice to suppress them; and
when war is going on, both Venice and Genoa send outnumbers
of ships whose doings savour strongly of piracy. Remember
that the first duty of the captain of a merchant ship is to save
his vessel and cargo, and that he should not think of fighting
unless he sees no other method of escape open to him.

" It is possible that, after a time, I may send one of your
brothers out here, but that will depend upon what I find of
their disposition when I get home; for it will be worse than
useless to send a lad of a headstrong disposition out to the care
of one but a few years older than himself. But this we can talk

I - I

9^1

128

<*VENIOB HAS HARE VlRTUia**

about when you come over to England, and we see what poii-
tion you are occupying here. I fear that Venice is about to
enter upon a period of great difficulty and danger. There can
be little doubt that Genoa, Padua, and Hungary are leagued
against her; and powerful as she is, and great as are her re-
sources, they will be taxed to the utmost to carry her through
the dangers that threaten her. However, I have faith in her
future, and believe that she will weather the storm, as she has
done many that have preceded it

"Venice has the rare virtue of endurance — the greatest
dangers, the most disastrous defeats, fail to shake her courage,
and only arouse her to greater efforts. In this respect she is
in the greatest contrast to her rival, Genoa, who always loses
heart the moment the tide turns against her. No doubt this is
due, in no slight extent, to her oligarchic form of government.
The people see the nobles, who rule them, calm and self-pos-
sessed, however great the danger, and remain confident and
tranquil ; while in Genoa each misfortune is the signal for a
struggle between contending factions. The occasion is seized
to throw blame and contumely upon those in power, and the
people give way to alternate outbursts of rage and depres-
sion.

" I do not say there are no faul' ■ 'n the government of
Venice, but taking her altogether there is no government in
Europe to compare with it. During the last three hundred
years the history of every other city in Italy, I may say of
every other nation in Europe, is one long record of intestine
struggle and bloodshed, while in Venice there has not been
a single popular tumult worthy of the name. It is to the
strength, the firmness, and the moderation of her government
that Venice owes her advancement, the respect in which she is
held among nations, as much as to the commercial industry of
her people.

THE "BONITO."

129

t posi-
out to
)Te can
eagued
her re-
hrough
in her
she haB

greatest

courage,

jt she is

tys loses

bt this is

srnment.

seU-pos-

lent and

nal for a
is seized
and the

i depres-

iment of
iment in

hundred
|iy say of

intestine
I not been
lis to the
Ivernment
^ich she is

idustry of

" She alone among nations could for years have withstood
the interdict of the pope, or the misfortunes tliat l:ave some-
times befallen her. She alone has never felt tlio foot of the
invader, or bent her neck beneath a foreign yoke to preserve
her existence. Here, save only in matters of government, all
opinions are free, strangers of all nationalities are welcome.
It is a grand city and a grand people, Francis, and though I
shall be glad to return to England I cannot but feel regret at
leaving it And now, my boy, it is time to be going off to your
ship. Polani said she would sail at ten o'clock. It is now
nine, and it will take you half an hour to get there. I am glad
to hear that Giuseppi is going with you; the lad is faithful
and attached to you, and may be of service. Your trunk has
already been sent on board, so let us be going.''

On arriving at the ship, which was lying in the port of
Malamocco they found that she was just ready for sailing, the
last bales of goods were being hoisted on board, and the sailors
were preparing to loosen the sails.

The Bonito was a large vessel, built for stowage rather than
speed. She carried two masts with large square sails, and
before the wind would probably proceed at a fair rate ; but the
art of sailing close-hauled was then unknown, and in the event
of the wind being unfavourable she would be forced either to
anchor or to depend upon her oars, of which she rowed fifteen
on either side. As they mounted on to the deck they were
greeted by Polani himself.

"I have come off to see the last of your son, M'>«»ser
Hammond, and to make sure that my orders for his comfort
have been carried out. Captain Corpadio, this is the young
gentleman of whom I have spoken to you, and who is to be
treated in all respects as if he were my son. You will instruct
him In all matters connected with the navigation of the ship,
as well as in the mercantile portion of the business, the best

(«8) I

i>ii|i|

■ :

ij.t'

■Jili

130

BAD NEWS.

methods of buying and selling, the prices of goods and the
methods of payment. This is your cabin, Francisco."

He opened the door of a roomy cabin in the poop of the
ship. It was fitted up with every luxury.

" Thank you very much indeed. Signer Polani," Francis said.
" The only fault is that it is too comfortable. I would as lief
have roughed it as other aspirants have to do."

" There was no occasion, Francisco. When there is rough
work to be done you will, I have no doubt, do it; but as you
are going to be a trader, and not a sailor, there is no occasion
that you should do so more than is necessary. You will learn
to command a ship just as well as if you began by dipping your
hands in tar. And it is well that you should learn to do this,
for unless a man can sail a vessel himself he is not well qualified
to judge of the merits of men he appoints to be captains; but
you must remember that you are going as a representative of
my house, and must, therefore, travel in accordance with that
condition. You will be sorry to hear that bad news has just
been received from the mainland. The state galley sent to
fetch Ruggiero Mocenigo has arrived with the news that on
the previous night a strong party of men who are believed to
have come from Padua, fell upon the guard and carried off
Ruggiero. My sailors came up and fought stoutly, but they
were overpowered, and several of them were killed; so Rug-
giero is again at large.

" This is a great disappointment to me. Though the villain
is not likely to show his face in the Venetian territory again,
I shall be anxious until Maria is safely married, and shall
lose no time in choosing a husband for her. Unless I am mis-
taken her liking is turned in the direction of Rufino, brother
of your friend Matteo Giustiniani, and as I like none better
among the suitors for her hand, methinks that by the time you
return you will find that they are betrothed. And now I hear

ON BOARD.

131

id the

of the

is said,
as lief

3 rough
as you
>ccasion
ill learn
ng your
do this,
^uaUfied
ins; but
tative of
'ith that
has just
sent to
that on
ieved to
ried off
ut they
Iso Rug-

le villain
|y again,
id shall
lam mis-
brother
le better
[ime you
I hear

the sailors are heaving the anchor, and therefore, Messer Ham-
mond, it is time we took to our boats.''

There was a parting embrace between Francis and his father.
Then the merchants descended into their goi dolas, and lay
waiting alongside until the anchor was up, the great sails
shaken out, and the Bunito began to move slowly through the
water towards the entrance of the port; tlien, with a final wave
of the hand, the gondolas rowed off, and Francis turned to look
at his surroundings. The first object that met his eye was
Giuseppi, who was standing near him waving his cap to his father.

"Well, Giuseppi, what do you tbmk of this?"

" I don't know what to think yet, Messer Francisco; it all
seems so big and solid one does not feel as if one was on the
water, it's more like living in a house. It does not seem as if
anything could move her."

" You will find the waves can move her about when we get
fairly to sea, Giuseppi, and the liime will come wheii you will
think our fast gondola was a steady craft in comparison. How
long have you been on board?"

"I came oflf three hours ago, signer, with the boat that
brought the furniture for your cabin. I have been putting
that to rights since. A supply of the best witlq has been
sent off, and extra stores of all sorts, so you need not be afrai«^
of being starved on the voyage."

"I wish he hadn't sent so much," Francis said; "it makes
one feel like a milksop. Whose cabin is it I have got?"

" I believe that it is the cabin usually used by the supercargo
who is in charge of the goods and does the trading, but the
men say the captain of this ship has been a great many years
in Polani's employment, and often sails without a supercargo,
being able to manage the trading perfectly well jy himself ; but
the usual cabin is only half the size of yours, and two have been
thrown into one to make it light and airy."

132

**SHB IS LIVELY ENOUGH IN A STORM."

:■ m

"And where do you sleep, Giuseppi?"

" I am going to sleep in the passage outside your door,
Messer Francisco."

"Oh, but I eha'n't like thatl" Francis said; "you ought to
have a bet^er place than that"

Giuseppi laughed.

"Why, Messer Francisco, considering that half my time I
slept in the gondola, and the other half on some straw in our
kitchen, I shall do capitally. Of course I could sleep in the
fo'castle with the crew if I liked, but I should find it hot and
stifling there. I chose the place myself, and asked the captain
if I could sleep there, and he has given me leave."

In an hour the Bonito had passed through the Malamocco
Channel aad was out on the broad sea. The wind was very
light, and but just sufficient to keep the great sails bellied out.
The -ailors were all at work, coiling down ropes, washing the
decks, and making everything clean and tidy.

" This is a good start, Messer Hammond," the captain said,
coming up to him ; "if this wind holds we shall be able to
make our course round the southern point of Greece and then
on to Candia, which is our first port. I always like a light
breeze when I first go out of port, it gives time for everyone
to get at home and have things ship-shape before we begin to
get lively."

" She does not look as if she would ever get lively," Francis
said, looking at the heavy vessel. -

" She is lively enough in a storm, I can tell you," the captain
said, laughing; "when she once begins to roll she does it in
earnest, but she is a fine sea boat, and I have no fear of gales.
I wish I could say as much of pirates ; however, she has
always been fortunate, and as we carry a stout crew she could
givi a good account of herself against any of the small piratical
vessels that swarm among the i.slands, although, of course, if

r door,
ught to

time I
T in our
? in the
hot and
I captain

damocco
vas very
ilied out
hing the

lain said,
able to
and then
e a light
everyone
begin to

" Francis

le captain

does it in

r of gales.

she has

she could
11 piratical

course, if

ADVENTURES WITH PIRATES.

133

she fell in with two or three of them together it would be
awkward."

" Kow many men do you carry altogether, captain V*

" Just seventy. You see she rows thirty oars, and in case of
need we put two men to each oar, and though she doesn't
look fast she can get along at a fine rate when the oars are
double-banked. We have shown them our heels many a time,
for our orders are strict, we are never to fight if we can get
away by running."

** But I suppose you have to fight sometimes?" Francis asked.

"Yes, I have been in some tough fights several times, though
not in the Bonito^ which was only built last year. Once in the
Lion we were attacked by three piiates. We were at anchor
in a bay, and the wind was blowing on the shore, when they
suddenly came round the headland, so there was no chance of
running, and we had to fight it out. We fought for five hours
before they sheered off pretty well crippled, and one of them
in flames, for we carried C4reek fire.

" Three or four times they nearly got a footing on deck, but
we managed to beat them off somehow. We lost a third of
our crew. I don't think there was a man escaped without a
wound. I was laid up for three months after I got home with
a slash on the shoulder, which pretty nigh took off my left arm.
However, we saved the ship and the cargo, which was a valuable
one, and Messer Polani saw that no one was the worse for his
share in the business. There's no more liberal hearted man
in the trade than he is, and whatever may be the scarcity of
hands in the port there is never any difficulty in getting a
good crew together for his vessels.

. "Of course there are the roughs with the smooths. Some
years ago I was In. prison for six months with all my crew
in Azoff. It was the work of those rascally Genoese, who
are always doing us a bad turn when they have the chance,

ii^

i'"

13.4

ANTAGONISM.

li'wi i

¥'■

I . ■'

even when we are at peace with them. They set the miiid
of the native khan — that is the prince of the country —
against us by some lying stories that we had been engaged
in smuggling goods in at another port. And suddenly, in the
middle of the night, in marched his soldiers on beard my ship
and two other Venetian craft lying in the harbour, and took
I)ossession of them, and shut us all up in prison. There we
were till Messer Polani got news and sent out another ship to
pay the fine demanded. That was no joke, I can tell you, for
the prison was so hot and crowded, and the food so bad, that
we got fever, and pretty near half of us died before our ransom
came. Then at Constantinople the Genoese stirred the people
up against us once or tw'ce, and all the sailors ashore had to fight
for their lives. Those Genoese are always doing us mischief."

"But I suppose you do them mischief sometimes, captain?
I imagine it isn't all one sidel "

" Of course we pay them out when we get a chance," the
captain replied. " It isn't likely we are going to stand being
always put upon, and not take our chance when it comes. We
only want fair trade and no favour, while those rascals want it
all to themselves. They know they have no chance with us
when it comes to fair trading."

" You know, captain, that the Genoese say just the same things
about the Venetians that the Venetians do about them. So I
expect that there are faults on both sides."

The captain laughed.

" I suppose each want to have matters their own way, Messer
Hammond, but I don't consider the Genoese have any right to
come interfering with us to tho eastward of Italy. They
have got France and Spain to trade with, and all the western
parts of Italy. Why don't they keep there 1 Besides, I look
upon them as landsmen. Why, we can always lick them at sea
in a fair fight"

things
Sol

lesser
thtto
?hey
stern
[look
it sea

"I HAVE NEVER BEEN TO ENGLAND."

135

"Generally, captain; I admit you generally thrash them;
still, you know they have sometimes got the better of you, even
when the force was equal."

The captain grunted. He could not deny the fact.

"Sometimes our captains don't do their duty," he said.
" They put a lot of young patricians in command of the gal-
leys, men that don't know one end of a ship from the other, and
then, of course, we get the worst of it. But I maintain that,
properly fought, a Venetian ship is always more than a match
for a Genoese."

" I think she generally is, captain, and I hope it will always
prove so in the future. You see, though I am English I have
lived long enough in Venice to feel like a Venetian."

" I have never been to England," the captain said, " though
a good many Venetian ships go there every year. They tell
me it's an island, like Venice, only a deal bigger than any
we have got in the Mediterranean. Those who have been
there say the sea is mighty stormy, and that sailing up from
Spain you get tremendous tempests sometimes, with the waves
ever so much bigger than we have here, and longer and more
regular, but not so trying to the ships as the short sharp gales
of these seas."

" I believe that is so, captain, though I don't know anything
about it myself. It is some years since I came out, and our
voyage was a very calm one."

Three days of quiet sailing and the Bonito rounded the
headlands of the Morea, and shaped her course to Candia. The
voyage was a very pleasant one to Francis. Each day the
captain brought out the list of cargo and instructed him in the
prices of each description of goods, told him of the various
descriptions of merchandise which they would be likely to pur-
chase at the different ports at which they were to touch, and
the prices which they would probably have to pay for them.

'•'li

136

A STORM.

A certain time, too, was devoted each day to the examination
of the charts of the various ports and islands, the captain point-
ing out the marks which we^'e to be observed on entering and
leaving the harbours, the best places for anchorage, and the points
where shelter could be obtained should high winds come on.

After losing sight of the Morea the weather changed, clouds
banked up rapidly in the south-west, aud the captain ordered
the great sails to be furled.

" We are going to have a serious gale," he said to Francis,
" which is unusual at this period of the year. I have thought
for the last two days we were going to have a change, but I
hoped to have reached Candia before the gale burst upon us.
I fear that this will drive us off our course."

By evening it was blowing hard, and the sea got up rapidly.
The ship speedily justified the remarks of the captain on her
power of rolling, and the oars, at which the men had been
labouring since the sails were furled, were laid in.

" It is impossible to keep our course," the captain said, " and
we must run up among the islands, and anchor under the lee of
one of them. I should recommend you to get into your bed as
soon as possible, you have not learned to keep your legs in a
storm. I see that lad of yours is very ill already, but as you
show no signs of suffering thus far you will probably escape."

It was some time, however, before Francis went below. The
scene was novel to him, and he was astonished at the sight of the
waves, and at the manner in which they tossed the great ship
about, as if she were an egg-shell; but when it became quite
dark, and he could see nothing but the white crests of the waves
and the foarn that flew high in the air every time the bluff bows
of the ship plunged down into a hollow, he took the captain's
advice and retired to his cabin. He was on deck again
early. A gray mist overhung the water; the sea was of a
leaden colour, crested with white heads; the waves were far

AMONG TUE ISLANDS.

naination
in point-
ring and
lie points
[ne on.
d, clouds
I ordered

Francis,
I thought
ge, but I

upon us.

3 rapidly,
in on her
had been

aid, "and
le lee of
ur bed as
egs in a
it as you
escape."
DW. The
;ht of the
reat ship
,me quite
he waves
luff bows
captain's
;k again
ivas of a
were far

higher than they had been on the previous evening, and as they
came racing along behind the Boiiito each crest seemed as if
it would rise over her stern and overwiielm her; but this ap-
prehension was soon dispelled, as he saw how lightly the vessel
rose each time. Although showing but a very small breadth of
sail, she was running along at a great rate, leaving a white streak
of foam behind her. The captain was standing near the helm,
and Francis made his way to him.

" Well, captain, and how are you getting on, and where are
wel" he asked, cheerfully.

" We are getting on well enough, Messer Francisco, as you can
see for yourself. The Bonito is as good a sea boat as ever
floated, and would not care for the wind were it twice as
strong as it is. It is not the storm I am thinking about, but
the islands. If we were down in the Mediterranean I could
turn into my cot and sleep soundly; but here it is another matter.
We are somewhere up among the islands, but where no man can
say. The wind has shifted a bit two or three times during the
night, and, as we are obliged to run straight before it, there is no
calculating to within a few miles where we are. I have tried
to edge out to the westward as much as I could, but with this
wind blowing and the height of the ship out of water, we sag
away to leeward so fast that nothing is gained by it.

" According to my calculation we cannot be very far from
the west coast of Mitylene. If the clouds would but lift and
give us a look round for two minutes we should know all about
it, as I know the outline of every island in the -^gean; and as
over on this side you are always in sight of two or three of
them, I should know all about it if I could get a view of the
land. Now, for aught we know, we may be running straight
down upon some rocky coast." . ,

The idea was not a pleasant one, and Francis strained his
eyes, gazing through the mist.

[ ■ \

138

IN PORT.

|:, ^

"What should we do if we saw land, captain 1" he asked
presently.

" Get out the oars, row her head round, and try to work either
to the right or left, whichever point of land seemed easiest
to weather. Of course if it was the mainland we were being
driven on there would be no use, and we should try and row
into the teeth of the gale, so as to keep her off land as long as
possible, in the hope of the wind dropping. When we got into
shallow water we should drop our anchors and still keep on row-
ing to lessen the strain upon them. If they gave, there would
be an end to the Bonito. But if, as I think, we are driving
towards Mitylene, there is a safe harbour on this side of the
island, and 1 shall certainly run into it It is well sheltered
and landlocked."

Two more hours passed, and then there was a startling trans-
formation. The clouds broke suddenly and cleared off, as if by
magic, and the sun streamed brightly out. The wind was
blowing as strong as ever, but the change in the hue of sky
and sea would at once have raised the spirits of the tired crew
had not a long line of land been seen stretching ahead of them
at a distance of four or five miles.

" Just as I thought," the captain exclaimed as he saw it.
" That is Mitylene sure enough, and the entrance to the har-
bour I spoke of lies away there on that beam."

The oars were at once got out, the sail braced up a little, and
the Bonito made for the point indicated by the captain, who
himself took the helm. Another half-hour and they were close
to land. Francis could see no sign of a port, but in a few
minutes the Bonito rounded the end of a low island and a
passage opened before her. She passed through this and found
herself in still water, in a harbour large enough to hold the fleet
of Venice. The anchor was speedily let drop.

" It seems almost bewildering," Francis said, " the hush and

•a

imUliiir'il

SUSPICIOUS CRAFT.

139

he asked

)rk either
;d easiest
ere being

and row
Eis long as
e got into
jp on row-
ere would
•e driving
ide of the

sheltered

ling trans-
ff, as if by
wind was
ue of sky
ired crew
of them

le saw it.
the har-

ittle, and

ain, who

urere close

in a few

d and a
,nd found

the fleet

quiet here after the turmoil of the storm outside. To whom does
Mitylene belong?"

" The Genoese have a trading station and a castle at the other
side of the island, but it belongs to Constantinople. The other
side of the islr'^d is rich and fertile, but this, as you see, is
mountainous and barren. The people have not a very good
reputation, and if we had been wrecked we should have been
plundered, if not murdered. You see those two vessels lying
close to the shore, near the village? They are pirates when
they get a chance, you may be quite sure; in fact, these
islands swarm with them. Venice does all she can to keep
them down, but the Genoese and the Hungarians and the
rest of them keep her so busy that she has no time to take
the matter properly in hand, and make a clean sweep of
them."

*^^**

l|ti

hush and

i I

lit

CHAPTER Via

AN ATTACK BY PIRATEa,

BOAT was lowered, and the captain went ashore

with a strong crew, all armed to the teeth. Francis

accompanied him. The natives were sullen in

their manner, but expressed a willingness to trade,

and to exchange hides and wine for cloth.

"We may as well do a little barter," the captain said, as they
rowed back towards the ship. "The port is not often visited,
and the road across the island is hilly and rough, so they ought
to be willing to sell their goods cheaply."

" They did not seem pleased to see us, nevertheless," Francis
said.

"No; you see the Genoese have got a footing in the island,
and cf course they represent us to the natives as being rob-
bers, who would take their island if we got the chance. All
round these coasts and islands the people are partisans either
of Venice or Genoa; they care very little for Constantinople,
although they form part of the empire. Constantinople taxes
tliem heavily, and is too weak to afford them protectioa Of
course they are Greeks, but the Greeks of the islands have
very little in common, beyond their language, with the Greeks
of Constantinople. They see, too, that the Turks are increasing
in power, and they know that if they are to be saved from
falling into the bands of the Moslem, it is Venice or Genoa

' ' .' '

A MEASURE OF PRECAUTION.

141

nt ashore

. Francis

sullen in

( to trade,

id, as they

^n visited,

ley ought

," Francis

16 island,
(oing rob-
nce. All
ins either
mtinople,
pie taxes
ion. Of
ds have
e Greeks
icreasing
red from
)r Genoa

who will protect them, and not Constantinople, who will have
enough to do to defend herself. As to themselves, they would
naturally prefer Venice, because Venice is a far better mistress
than Genoa; but of course, when the Genoese get a footing
they spread lies as to our tyranny and greed, and so it comes
that the people of the islands are divided in their wishes, and
that while we are gladly received in some of them, we are re-
garded with hate and ?»uspicion in others."

Trade at once began, and continued until evening.

" How long do you expect to stay here, captain ?" Francis
asked.

. " That must depend upon the wind ; it may go down to-
morrow, it may continue to blow strong for days, and it is no
use our attempting to work down to Candia until it changes its
direction. I should hope, however, that in a day or two we
may be oflF; we are doing little more than wasting our time
here."

A strong watch was placed on deck at nightfall.

"Why, surely, captain, there is no fear of an attack! War
has not yet been proclaimed with' Genoa, although there is little
doubt it will be so in a few weeks, or perhaps a few days."

" There is never a real peace between Venice and Genoa in
these seas," the captain said, " and as war is now imminent, one
cannot be too watchful. State galleys would not be attacked,
but merchant vessels are different. Who is to inquire about
a merchant ship! Why, if we were attacked and plundered
here, who would be any the wiser! We should either have
our throats cut or be sent to rot in the dungeons of Genoa.
And not till there was an exchaxige of prisoners, perhaps years
hence, would any in Venice know what had befallen us. When
weeks passed, and no news came to Venice of our having
reached Candia, it would be supposed that we had been lost
in the storm.

Ill-

A VESSEL MISSINa

■ ' ,11

:!'.„

.^1

" Signer Polani would run his pen through the name of the
BoiatOy and })ut her down as a total loss, and there would l^
an end of it till those of us who were alive, when the prison
doors were opened, made their way back to Vtnice. No, no,
Messer Francisco; in these eastern waters one miis*. always act
as if the republic were at war. Why, did not Antonio Doria,
in a time of profound peace, attack and seize eight Venetian
siiips laden with ijoods, killing two of the merchants Oin board,
and putting the ships at a ransom. As to single vessels miscing,
and never heard of, their number is innumerable. It is all put
down to pirates; but trust me, the Genoese are often at the
bottom of it. They are robbers, the Genoese. In fair trade
we can always beat them, and they know it, and so they are
always seeking a pretext for a quarrel with us."

Francis smiled quietly at the bigoted hatred which the
captain bore the Genoese, but thought it useless to argue with
him. The next morning he came up on deck soon after day-
break.

"I see one of those vessels has taken her departure," he said,
as he glanced towards the spot where they had been lying.

"So she has," the captain said. "I had not noticed that
before. I wonder what that fellow has gone fori No good,
you may be sure. Why, it is blowing hard outside still, as yon
may see by the rate those light clouds travel. He would never
have put to sea without having a motive, and he must ha\ v
had a strong crew on board to row out in the teeth of the
gale far enough to make off the land; that fellow is up to
mischief of some sort."

A few minutes later the captain ordered a boat to be
lowered and rowed out to the rocky islet at the mouth of the
harbour, and landing, climbed up the rocks and looked out to
sea. In half an hour he returned to the ship. "It is no use,"
he said to Francis; "the wind is blowing straight into the

livJ.

te said,

fng-
)d that

good,
as yo'i

never
ha\('
lof the

up to

I to be
)f the
)ut to

THE CAPTAINS SUSPICIONS.

143

passage, and we could not row tlie Ihnito out a,ii;ainst it It
was different with that craft thiit went otit y enter* lay evening,
for I have no doubt she started as soon us it bccainc dark. She
was low in the water, and would not hold the wind ; besides,
no doubt they lowered the masts, and witli a strong crew
inij^dit well have swept her out. But with the Honito, with her
high sides and heavy tonnage, it couUl not be done."

"What do you think she went out for, captain?"

" It is likely enough that she may have gone to one of the
other islands, and may return with a dozen other craft, pirates
like herself. The news that a Venetian merchant ship, without
consorts, is weather-bound here, would bring them upon us
like bees. It is a dangerous thing, this sailing alone. I have
talked it over several times with the master. Other merchants
generally send their ships in companies of eight or ton, and
they are then strong enough to beat off any attack of pirates.
Messor Polani always sends his vessels out singly. What he
says is this: *A single ship always travels faster than a convoy,
because these must go at the rate of the slowest among them;
then the captain is free to go where he will, without consulting
others, according as he gets news where trade is be done, and
when he gets there he can drive his own bargains without the
competition of other ships.'

"So you see there are advantages both ways. The padrone's
ships run greater risks, but if they get through them safely
they bring home mucli larger profits than do those of others.
As a rule, I prefer sailing singly; but just at the present time
1 should be well pleased to see half a dozen coisorts lying
alongside."

Three times during the day the captain paid a visit to the
rocky island. On his return for the last time before nightfall.
he said to Francis : '

"The wind is certainly falling; I hope that to-morrow

i I

144

OMINOUS SIGNS.

I 1

[^iif!^

s< '

morning we shall be able to geo out of this trap. I am con-
vinced that there is danger."

" You see nothing else, do you, captain, beyond the departure
of that craft, to make you think that there is danger 1"

" Yes, I have seen two things," the captain said. "In the first
place, the demeanour of the people has changed; they do not
seem more unfriendly than they were befoie, but as I moved
about the place to-day it seemed to me tliafc there was a sup-
pressed excitement — people gathered together and talked
earnestly, and separated if any of our creM' happened to go
near them ; even laughed when they thought that none of us
were looking, and looked serious and sullen if we turned
round. I am convinced that they are expecting something to
happen.

" I have another reason for suspecting it. I have kept a
sharp watch on that high hill behind the village; they tell me
there is nothing at the top except some curious stones, that
look as if they had once been trees, so there is nothing they can
want tj go up for. Several times to-daj'' I have made out the
figures of men climbing that hill; when they got to the top
they stood for some time as if they were looking out over the
sea, and then came down again without doing anything. Now,
men do not climb such a hill as that merely for exercise. They
went up because they expected to see something, and that
something could only be a fleet of pirate boats from the other
islands. I would give a year's pay if we could get out of this
place this evening, but it cannot be done, and we must wait
till to-morrow morning; I will try then, even though I risk
being driven on the rocks. However, if they do come to-night
they will not catch us asleep."

Orders were issued that the whole crew were to remain in
readiness for attack, and that those whose watch was below
were to sleep with their arms beside them. The lower ports

1 I

,V>

m con-
parture

ihe first

do not
moved

s a sup-
talked

d to go

le of us
turned

thing to

I kept a
tell me
les, that
they can
out the
the top
over the
Now,
They
,nd that
he other
of this
lust wait
I risk
to-night

3main in
IS below
|er ports

"WHAT SORT OF SOUNDS?"

145

were all closed, a strong watch was kept on deck, and it was
certain that, whatever happened, the Bonito would not be taken
by surprise. Being assured by the captain that it was not
probable that any attack would be made before morning, as the
pirates, not knowing thoir exact position, would wait until the
first gleam of daylight enabled them to make out where she
was lying, and to advance in order against her, Francis lay
down on his couch, leaving orders that, if asleep, he was ^^o be
called two hours before daybreak. He slept but little, how-
ever, getting up frequently and going out to ascertain if any
sounds indicated the presence of an enemy. Upon one of these
occasions he found that the person leaning next to him against
the bulwark, and gazing towards the mouth of the harbour,
was G;'.useppi.

"Kave you been here long, Giuseppi?"

" Since you were out last, Messer Francisco. I thought I
would wait a bit and listen."

"And hfiv** you heard anything 1"

" I have heard sound-j several times."

"What sort of sounds, Giuseppi?"

"S^7ch a sound as is made when the sails and yards are
lowered. I have heard it over and over again when out at
night on the lagoons near the port ; there is no mistake in the
creaking of the blocks as the halyards run through them. I am
sure, that since I have been here several vessels have brought
up inside the mouth of the harbour. Some of the sailors have
heard the same noises, so there cannot be any mistake about
it. If the captain likes, I v^ill take a small boat and row out,
and find out all about them."

" I will ask the captain, Giuseppi"

The captain, however, said that there would be no use in
this beiig done. " Whether there'are few or whether there are
many of them, we must wait till morning before we go out

(463) . 9

l«

146

tHE PIRATE FLEM.

;K '

There will be no working out that channel in the dark, even
if we were unopposed."

" But they must have managed to come in," Francis said.

" No doubt some of their comrades in the other barque, or
people from the village, show a light out there to guide them
in; beside?, the wind is favourable to them and against us. No,
young sir, there is nothing to do but to wait. In the morning,
if there are but few of them, we will try to break through
and gain the sea; if there are many we will fight here, as then
all hands will be available for the combat, while if we were
rowing, half of them would be occupied with the oars. If your
lad were to go as he proposes he might fall into the hands of
the enemy, and as the information he could gather would be in
an}' case of no use it is best he should remain where he is."

The hours seemed long until the first tinge of daylight
appeared in the sky. All hands were on deck now, for the
news that vessels had been arriving in the port had convinced
all that danger really threatened them. It was not until half
an hour later that they were able to make out some dark
objects lying in under the shadow of the islet across the mouth
of the harbour.

"There they are, Messer Francisco," the captain said.
"Ten of them, as far as I can make out; but there may be
more, for likely enough some of them are lying side by side.
There may, too, be some round a corner, where we cannot see
them. Another half hour we shall know all about it."

Francis was half surprised that the captain did not order the
oars to be put out and lashed in that position, for it was a
recognized plan for preventing a ship from being boarded by
an enemy, who could thus only approach her at the lofty poop
and forecastle.

"Are 3TOU not going to get out the oars to keep them oflF?"

*'No, Messer Francisco. In the first place, our sides are so high

■■ii

sis^ r

even

id.

lie, or
them
, No,
rning, .
rough
3 then
3 were
i your
mds of
d be in
is."

aylight
for the
ivinced
Ail half
le dark
mouth

said,
may be
y side,
not see

Irder the

It was a

rded by

fty poop

off?"
so high

READY FOR THE FIGHT.

147

out of water that the pirates will have a diiHculty in boarding us
in any case. In the second place, if we get the oars out and
they row full at them, sooner or later they will break them off,
and it is all-important that we should be able to row. I have
been thinking the matter over, and my idea is, as soon as they
advance, to got three or four oars at work on either side so as
to move her gradually through the water towards the harbour
mouth. The rowers will be charged to let their oars swing
alongside whenever any of their craft dash at them. We shall
want every oar as well as our sails to get away when we are
once outside. I do not think we have much chance of finally
beating them off if we stop and fight here. But if we can do so
for a time and can manage to creep out of the harbour, all may
be well."

When daylight fairly broke they were able to make out their
enemy. The vessels were of all sizes, from long, low craft,
carrying great sails and long banks of oars, down to boats of a
few tons burden. All seemed crowded with men.

" None of them are anything like as high out of the water as
the Bonito" the captain said, " and they will find it very difficult
to climb up our sides. Still the odds against us are serious,
but we shall give them a warmer reception than they expect.
They will hardly calculate either on our being so strong-handed
or so well prepared for them."

Everything was indeed ready for the combat. Two or three
barrels of the compound known as Greek fire had been brought
up from the hold, and the cooks had heated cauldrons full of
pitch. Thirty men with bows and arrows were on the poop,
and the rest, with spears, axes, and swords, stood along the
bulwarks.

" We may as well get as near the entrance as we can before
the fight begins," ♦he captain said. " Get up the anchor, and
as soon as it ic apeak get out four oars on each side."

'hi

148

ATTACKED.

' ('

* i

The anchor had already been hove short, and was soon in its
place. Then the oars dii)i)ed into the water, and slowly the
Bonito moved towards the mouth of the harbour. Scarcely had
the oars touched the water than a bustle was perceived on
board the piratical ships. Oars were put out, and in two or
three minutes the pirates were under way, advancing at a rapid
pace towards the Bonito.

The crew made no reply to the shouts and yells of the
pirates, but, in accordance with the orders of the captain,
remained in a stooping position, so that the figure of the cap-
tain, as he hauled up the Hag with the lion of Venice to the
mast-head, was alone visible to the pirates. As these ap-
proached volleys of arrows were shot at the Bonito, but not a
shot replied until they were within fifty yards of the ship.
Then the captain gave the word. The archers sprang to their
feet, and from their eminence poured their arrows thick and
fast on to the crowded decks of the pirates. The captain gave
the word to the rowers, and they relinquished their oars, which
swung in by the side of the vessel.

A moment . later two of the largest craft of the pirates
dashed alongside. The instant they did so they were saluted
with showers of boiling pitch, while pots full of Greek fire
were thrown down upon them. Those who tried to climb up
the side of the Bonito were speared with lances or cut down
with battle-axes. The combat was of short duration. Many
of those on whom the boiling pitch had fallen jumped overboard
ill their agony, while others did the same to escape the Greek
fire which they in vain endeavoured to extinguish.

The fire quickly spread to the woodwork, and in five minutes
after th'3 beginning of the fight the two craft dropped astern
from the Bonito with the flames already rising fiercely from them.
In the meantime the other vessels had not been idle, and a
storm of missiles was poured upon the Bonito. The fate whicL

on in its
►wly the
cely had
lived on
I two or
b a rapid

3 of the

captain,
the cap-
:e to the
hese ap-
)ut not a
;he ship,
to their
hick and
:ain gave
rs, which

e pirates
e saluted
reek fire
climb up
:ut down
I. Many
)verboard
he Greek

Q minutes
ed astern
■om them,
[le, and a
ate which

■■ s

I I

• S 'v

s t

to
Q

RAMMING THE "BONITO."

befell their comrades, however, showed them how formidable
was the vessel they had regarded as an easy prey, and when
the first assailants of the Bonito dropped astern none of the
others cared to take their places.

"Man the oars aga:n!" the captain ordered, and the Bonito
again moved forw^id, her crew stooping behind the bulwarks,
while the archers r^nly rose from time I ^ time to discharge their
shafts.

" The thing I am most afraid of," the captain said to Francis,
who was standing beside him, " is, that they will ram us with
their prows. The Bonito is strongly built, but the chances are
that they would knock a hole in her."

" I should think, captain, that if we were to get up some of
those bales of cloth and fasten ropes to them we might lower
them over the side and so break the shock."

"It is worth trying anyhow," the captain said. And a score
of the sailors were at once sent down to fetch up the bales.
Eopes were fastened round tbcoe, and they were laid along by
the bulwarks in readiness foi" being lowered instantly. Ten
bales were placed on each sidb, and three men told off to each
bale.

By this time they were half-way to the mouth of the har-
bour, and the preparations were completed just in time, for
the small boats suddenly drew aside, and two of the largest of
the pirates' craft, each rowed by twenty-four oars, dashed at
her, one on each side. The captain shouted the order, and the
men all sprang to their feet. It was seen at once that the
vessels would both strike about midships. Three bales on
either side were raised to the bulwarks and lowered down with
the ropes until close to the water's edge and closely touching
each other. Francis sprang on to the bulwark and superintended
the operations on one side, while the captain did the same on
the other.

I I

' f

^^A

160

BEATEN OFF.

" A few feet more astern, lads. That is right Now, keep
the bales touching. You are just in the line."

An instant later the Bonito reeled from the shock of two
tremendous blows. The bows of the pirates were stove in,
but the thick bales enabled the Bonito to withstand the shock,
although her sides creaked, the seams started, and the water
flowed in freely. But of this the crew thought little. They
were occupied in hurling darts, arrows, and combustibles into
the pirates as these backed off in an already sinking con-
dition.

" Now I think we can go," the captain said, and ordered the
Wiiole of the oars to be manned.

They were speedily got out, and the Bonito made her way
out through the mouth of the harboar. The pirates, in their
lighter boats, rowed round and round her, shooting clouds of
arrows, but not venturing to come to close quarters after the
fate which had befallen the four largest vessels of their fleet
As soon as they ^vere clear of the islet the sails were hoisted.
The wind had fallen much during the night, and had worked
round to the east, and under sails and oars the Bonito left the
island, none of the pirates venturing to follow in pursuit

The oars were soon laid in, and the men, with mallets and
chisels, set to work to caulk the seams through which the water
was making its way. The casualties were now inquired into,
and it was found that six men had been shot dead, and that
nine-and-twenty had received wounds more or less severe from
the arrows of the pi^-ates. Trancis had been twice wounded
while superintending the placing of the bales. One arrov had
gone through his right leg, another had struck him in tne side
and glanced cff" a rib.

"This won't do, Messer Francisco," the captain said as he
assisted Giuseppi to bandage the wounds. "Sip;nc7 Polani
phvced you on board to learn something of seamanship and

fAi

mi^

COMPARING NOTES.

151

commerce, not to make yourself a target for the arrows of
pirates. However, we have to thank you for the saving of the
BonitOf for aiisuredly she would have beon stove in had not the
happy thouglit of hanging those bales overboard struck you.
It would be of no use against war-galleys, whose beaks are often
below the water-line, but against crait like these pirates it
acts splendidly, and there is no doubt that you saved the ship
from destruction and us from death, for after the burning of
the two first vessels that attacked us you may be sure they
would have shown but little mercy. I can't think how you
came to think of it"

" Why, I have read in books, cajitain, of defenders of walls
hanging over trusses of straw to break the blows of battering-
rams and machines of the besiegers. Directly you said they
were going to ram us it struck me we might do the same, and
then I thought that bales of cloth similar to those you got
up on deck to trade with the islanders would be just the
thing."

" It was a close shave," the captain said. " I was leaning
over, and saw the whole side of the ship bend beneath the blow,
and expected to hear the ribs crack beneatli me. Fortunately
the Bonito was stronger built than her assailants, and their bows
crumpled in before her side gave; but my hear' as in my
mouth for a time, I can tell you."

"So was mine, captain. I hardly felt these two arrows
strike me; they must have been shot from one of the other
boats. Then I could not help laughing to see the way in which
the men at the oars tumbled backwards at the moment when
their vessel struck us; it was as if an invisible giant had swept
them all off their seats together."

. The wind continued favourable until they arrived at Candia,
where the captain reported to the commander of a Venetian
war galley lying in the port the attack that had been made

I .%

153

ORUISINO.

i>'-'A

m:}

upon him, and the galley at once started for the scene of the
action to destroy any pirates slie might find there or among
the neigliboiiring islands, or in the various inlets and bays of
the mainland. Having delivered their letters and landed a
portion of their cargo for the use of Polani's agents in the
islands, the Bonito proceeded to Cyprus. For some weeks
she cruised along the coast of Syria, trading ii< the various
Turkish ports, for Venice, although she had shared in some of
the crusades, was now, as she had often been before, on friendly
terms with the Turks. Her interests all lay in that direction;
she carried on a large trade with them; and in the days when
she lay under the interdict of the pope, and all Europe stood
aloof from her, she drew her stores of provisions from the
Moslem ports, and was thus enabled successfully to resist the
pressure which she suffered from the interdict.

She foresaw, too, the growing power of the Turks, and per-
ceived that in the future they would triumph over the de-
generate Greek empire at Constantinople. She had spent her
blood and treasure freely in maintaining that empire; but the
weakness and profligacy of its emperors, the intestine quarrels
and disturbances which were for ever going on, and the in-
gratitude with which she had always treated Venice, had
completely alienated the Venetians from her; Genoa had, in-
deed, for many years exercised a far more preponderating
influence at Constantinople than Venice had done.

Having completed the tour of the Syrian ports the Bonito
sailed north, with the intention of passing the Dardanelles and
Bosphorus and proceeding to Azoj)!!. When she reached the
little island of Tenedos, a few miles from the entrance to the
strait, she heard news which comptlled the cai)tain to alter his
intentions. A revolution had broken out in Constantinople,
aided by the Genoese of Pera. The cruel tyrant Calojohannes V.
had been deposed, and his heir Andronicus, whom he had

liii

A REVOLUTION.

153

deprived of sight and thrown into a dungeon, released and
placed on the throne. As a reward for tlie services she had
rendered him, Andronicus issued a decree conferring Tenedoa
upon Genoa.

The news had just arrivod when the Bonito entered the port,
and the town was in a ferment. There were two or three
Venetian war-ships in the harbour; but the Venetian admiral,
being without orders from home as to what part to take in
such an emergency, remained neutral. The matter was, how-
ever, an important one, for the possession of Tenedos gave its
owners the command of the Dardanelles, and a fleet lying there
could effect lally block the passage.

The people thronged up to the governor's house with shouts
of "Down with Genoa!" The governor being unsupported by
any Greek or Genoese troops, bowed to the popular will,
and declared that he did not recognize the revolution that had
taken place in Constantinople, and refused to submit to the
decree of Andronicus. Donato Trono, a Venetian m' rchant
resident in the island, and other Venetians, harangued the
people, and pointed out to them that alone they could not hope
to resist the united forces of Greece and Genoa, and that their
only hope of safety lay in placing themselves under the protec-
tion of Venice. The people, seeing the justice of the arguments
of the Venetians, and preferring the Venetian rule to that of
Genoa, agreed to the propof^al. The l)anner of St. Mark was
raised amid great enthusiasm, and the island declared subject
to Venice. *

A Genoese galley in port immediately set sail and quickly
carried the news to Constantinople, where the emperor at once
threw the wiiole of the Venetian residents into prison. As soon
as the news of this readied Tenedos the captain of the Bonito
held a consultation with Francis.

"It is evident, Messer Francisco, that we cannot proceed

->■*

164

RETURN TO VENICE.

upon our northward voyage. We should be captured and held
at Constantinople; and, even did wo succeed in passing at night,
we should fall into the hands of the Genoese — who are far
stronger in the Black Sea than we are — for if Venice accepts
the offer of the people of this place and takes possession of the
island, Genoa is sure to declare war. I think, then, that we
had better make our way ba(k to Venice with what cargo wo
have on board, and there got fresh orders frotn the padrone.
We have not done badly so far, and it is better to make sure
of what we have got than to risk its loss, for at any day we
may fall in with the Genoese fleet sailing hither."

Francis quite agreed with the captain's opinion, and the
Bonito sailed for the south. They t uched, on their way, at
several islands, and the news that an early outbreak of hostilities
between Genoa and Venice was probable — in which case there
would be an almost complete cessation of trade — produced so
strong a desire on the part of the islanders to lay in a store of
goods, that the captain was able to dispose of the rest of his
cargo on good terms, and to fill up his ship with the produce
of the islands.

Thus the Bonito was deep in the wator when she re-entered
the port of Venice after an absence of about three months. As
soon as the anchor was dropped the captain, accompanied by
Francis, hired a gondola, and rowed into the city to give an
account to Signer Polani of the success of his voyage, and to
lay before him a list of the iargo with which the Bunito was
laden. The merchant received them with great cordiality, and
embraced Francis with the affection of a father.

"Do you go at once into the salon, Francisco; you will find
my daughters expecting you there, for the news came an hour
ago that the Bonito was entering port. Of course we heard from
the letters from Candia of your adventures with the pirates,
and the gallant way in which the Bonito defeated them. You

A HEARTY OREETINO.

165

nd held
X night,
are far
accepts
n of the
that we
iargo wo
padrone,
ake sure
r day we

and the
' way, at
lostilities
aso there
iduced so
Et store of
!st of his
produce

e-entered
ths. As
allied by
give an
e, and to
3unito was
ality, and

will find
e an hour
eard from
le pirates,
em. You

will find, captain, that I have ordered an extra month's pay to
be given to all on board.

"The captain did full justice, Francisco, in his account of
the matter, to your quickness in suggesting a method by which
the effort of the ramming of the enemy was neutralized, and
for the courage you showed in carrying out your idea; but
we will talk of that afterwards. He and I have business to
transact which will occupy us for some time, so the sooner you
go the better."

Francis at once took himself off and joined the girls, who
received him with the heartiest greeting.

"We were glad indeed, Francis," Maria said, "when our
father told us that the Bonito was signalled as entering the
port. No letters have come for some time, and we feared that
you must have entered the Dardanelles and reached Constanti-
nople before the news arrived there of that affair at Tenedos,
in which case you would no doubt have been seized and thrown
into the dungeons."

" We were at Tenedos when the affair took place," Francis
said, " and have had no opportunity since of sending a letter
by any :hip likely to be here before us. The outbreak made
us alter our plans, for, of course, it would not have been safe
to have sailed farther when the emperor was so enraged against
Venice. I need hardly tell you I was not sorry when we
turned our faces again towards Venice. I have enjoyed the
voyage very much, and have had plenty to occupy me; still,
three months at a time is long enough, and I was beginning to
long for a sight of Venice."

" For a sight of Venice and — " Maria repeated, holding up
her finger reprc singly.

" And of you both," Francis said smiling. " I did not think
it necessary to put that in, because you must know that you
are Venice to me." -

166

"WB DO NOT WANT FLATTERY.*

"That is much better," Maria said approvingly. "I think
you have improved siTice you have been away. Do you not
think so, Giulia?"

"I don't think that sort of nonsense is an improvement,"
Giulia said gravely. *'^Any of the young Venetian gallants
can say that sort of ching. We do not w^ant flattery from
Francisco."

" You should say you do not want it, Giulia," Maria said
laughing. "I like it, I own, even from Francisco. It may
not ro*ian anything, but it is pleasant nevertheless; besides, one
likes to think that there is just a little truth in it, not much,
perhaps, but just a little in what Francisco said, for instance.
Of course we are not all Venice to him, still, just as we are
pleased to see him, he is pleased to see us; and why shouldn't
he say so in a pretty wayl It's all very well for you to set
up as being above flattery, Giulia, but you are young yet;
I have no doubt you will like it when you get as old as I am."

Giulia shook her head decidedly.

" I always think," she said, " when I hear a man sayiag
flattering things to a girl, that it is the least complementary
thing he can do, for it is treating her as if he considers that
she is a fool, otherwise he would never say such outrageous
nonsense to her."

" There, Francisco," Maria laughed, " you are fairly warned
now; beware how you venture to pay any compliment to
Giulia in future. It would be a dull wor]d if every one were
to think as you do, Giulia, and to say exactly as they meant.
Fancy a young man saying to you : ' I think you are a nice
sort of girl, no prettier than the rest, but good-tempered and
pleasant, and to be desired because your father is rich I ' A
nice sort of way that would be to be made love to!"

"There is no occasion for them to say anything at all,"
Giulia said indignantly; "we don't go about saying to themi

[ think
foxji not

Biuent,"
gallants
:y from

ria said
It may

des, one
)t much,
nstance.
I we are
houldn't
u to set
ing yet;
bs I am."

1 saying
mentary
lers that
trageous

warned
ment to
)ne were
Y meant,
'e a nice
red and
Ihl' A

at all,"
;o them.

"WE ARE DYING TO HEAll YOUR ADVENTURES." 157

•I think you are good looking, and well-mannered, and witty;'
or, *I like you because they say you are a brave soldier and a
good swordsman.' Why should they say such things to usi
I suppose we can tell if anyone likes us without all that
nonsense." „

"Perhaps so," the elder girl assented; "and yet I maintain
it's pleasant, and at any rate it's the custom, and as it's the
custom, we must put up with it. What do you say, Fran-
ciscol"

"I don't know anything about it," Francis said; "certainly
some of the compliments I have heard paid were barefaced false-
hoods, and I havp v/ondered how men could make them, and
how women could even afl'ect to believe in them; but, on the
other hand, I suppose that wlien people are in love, they really
do think the person they are in love with is prettier and more
charming, or braver and more handsome, than anyone else in
the world, and that though it may be flattery, it is really true
in the opinion of the person who utters it."

"And now let us leave the matter alone for the present,
Francisco; we are dying to hear all about your adventures,
and especially that fight with the pirates. The captain in his
letter meicly said that you were attacked and beat the pirates
off, and that you would have been sunk if it hadn't been that
at your suggestion thsy lowered bales of cloth over to break
the shock, and that so many men were killed and so many
wounded, and that you were hit twice by arrows, but the
wounds were healing. That's all he said, for papa read that
portion of his letter out to us; now we want a full and par-
ticular account of the affair."

Francis gave a full account of the fight, and then related the
ether incidents of the voyage. .

" We know many of the ports you touched at," Maria said
when he had finished, "for when we were little girls papa

1 1

I?-'
li

168

A ROW PROPOSED.

took US sometimes for voyages in his ships when the times
were peaceful and there was no danger. Now let us order a
gondola, and go for a rowj papa is sure to be occupied for ever
so long with your captain."

arassEia::! ;> -.

CHAPTER IX

THE CAPTURE OF THE "LIDO*

IGNOR POLANI told Francis that evening that
he was much pleased with the report that the
captain had given of his eagerness to acquire infor-
mation both in mercantile and nautical matters,
and of the manner in which he had kept the ship's books, and
the entries of the sales, and purchases of goods.

" Many young fellows at your age, Francis, when there was
no compulsion for them to have taken theie matters into their
charge, would have thought only of amusement and gaiety
when they were in port, and I am glad to see that you have a
real interest in them. Whatever the line in life a young man
takes up, he will never excel in it unless he goes into it with
all his heart, and I am ven' glad to see that you have
thrown yourself so heartily into your new profession. The Bonito
made a most satisfactory voyage, far more so than I antici-
pated when I found that she would not be able to carry out
the programme I had laid down for her; but the rise in tl;ie
prices in the latter part of your voyage have more than made
up for the loss of the trade in the Black Sea; and you have
done as much in the three months you were absent as I should
have expected had you been, as I anticipated, six months
away.

lit

II' w

160

War iMMiNfiNt.

" You will be some little time before you start again, as I
wish to see how matters are going before I send the Bonito out
upon another adventure. At present nothing is settled here;
that there will be war with Genoa before long is certain, but
we would rather postpone it as long as possible, and the
senate has not yet arrived at the decision to accept the oflfer
of Tenedos. Negotiations are going on with Genoa and Con-
stantinople, but I have little hope that anything will come of
them.

"It is getting late in the season now, and the war will
hardly break out until next spring; but I have no doubt the
struggle will then begin, and preparations are going on with
all speed in the dockyards. We are endeavouring to obtain
allies, but the combination is so strong against Venice that we
are meeting with little success, and Ferrara is really the only
friend on whom we can rely, and she is not in a position to
aid us materially in such a struggle as this will be. I am glad
to tell you that the affair in which you were concerned before
you sailed has now completely dropped; nothing has been
heard of Mocenigo since he made his escape.

" A decree of banishment was passed against him, but where
he is we know not. That wretched woman was sentenced to
four years' imprisonment, but upon my petition she will be
released at the end of six months, on her promise that she will
not again set foot in the territory of the republic. As
Mocenigo has not been brought to trial, there will be no
further official inquiry into the matter, and I have not been
further questioned as to the source from which I obtained my
information as to the girls' hiding-place. Your share in the
matter is therefore altogether unsuspected, and I do not think
that there is any further danger to you from Mocenigo's
partisans."

" I should be glad enough to remain in Yenice a fortnight

"l WILL AtlRANGB IT SO.'*

161

where
Iced to
ill be
le will
As
be Eo
been
id my
in the
think
fnigo's

knight

or so, sir," Francis said, " but if at the end of that time you
have any vessel going out, I shall prefer to go in her. Now
that my studies are over, I shall very soon get tired of doing
nothing. Perhaps in a few years I may care more for the
gaieties of Venice, but certainly at present I have no interest
in them, and would rather be at sea. Matteo tells me that
you have promised lie shall make a few voyages in your
ships, and that you have told him he shall go in one of them
shortly; if so, it would be very pleasant to us both if we can
Bid\ together."

" I will arrange it so, Francisco. It would be for the benefit
of my cousin — who is a good kJ, but hare-brained, and without
ballast — for you to go with him. I should indeed have pro-
posed it, but the vessel in which x have decided he shall sail
will be ready for sea in another ten days or so, and I thought
that you would prefer a longer stay in Venice before you again
set sail. If, however, it is your wish to be off again so soon, I
will arrange for you both to sail together. This time you will
go officially as my supercargo, since you now understand the
duties. The captain of the vessel in which you will sail is a
good sailor and a brave man, but he has no aptitude for trade,
and I must have sent a supercargo with him. Your decision
to go relieves me of this, for which I am not sorry, for men
who are at once good supercargos and honest men are difficult
to get."

The fortnight passed rapidly, and Francis enjoyed his stay
at the merchant's greatly, but he was not sorry when, at the
end of ten days, Polani told him that the lading of the
vessel would begin the next day, and that he had best go
on board early and see the cargo shipned, so that he might
check off the bales and casks as they were sent on board, and
see where each description of goods was stowed away.

" I think, papa, it is too bad of you sending Francisco away

(468) , L

162

"OUR FAULT 1**

80 soon," Maria said, when at their evening meal she learned
the news of his early departure.

" It is his own doing," her father said ; " it is he who wants
to go, not I who send him. I consider that it is entirely your
fault."

" Our fault! " the two girls repeated in surprise.

" Certainly. If you had made Venice sufficiently pleasant to
him he would not wish to leave. I am too busy to see about
such things, and I left it to you to entertain him. As he is in
such a hurry to get away again, it is evident that you have
not succeeded in doing so." »

" Indeed, Signor Polani, your daughters have been every-
thing that is kind, but I have no taste for assemblies and
entertainments. I feel out of place there amid all the gaily-
dressed nobles and ladies, and no sooner do I get there than
I begin to wonder how anyone can prefer the heated rooms
and clatter of tongues, to the quiet pleasure of a walk back-
wards and forwards on the deck of a good ship; besides, I
want to learn my profession, and there is so much to learn in
it that I feel I have no time to lose."

" I am right glad to see your eagerness in that direction,
Francisco, and I did but jest with my daughters. You have
not yet asked me what is the destination of the IMoy for that
is the name of your new vessel. This time you are going
quite in a new direction. In the spring we are certain to
have war with Genoa, and as Parma and Hungary will probably
both take side against us, we may find ourselves cut oflf
from the mainland, and, in case of a disaster happening to
our fleet, in sore straits for food. I am, therefore, going to
gather into my warehouses as much grain as they will hold;
this will both be a benefit to the state, and will bring me
good profit, for the price of wheat will be high in the city if
we are leaguered on the land side.

Mned

wants
yyour

isant to
e about
he is in
ou have

jn every-

blies and

the gaily-

liere than

ted rooms

voW back-
besides, 1
o learn in

direction,
You have
io, for that

are going

certain to

ill probably

es cut off

T,ppening to

re, going *®
L will hold;

1 bring rae

the city ii

TO SIOILT FOR GRAIN.

163

"The Lido will go down to Sicily, and fill up there with
com. You will have to use care before entering port, for with
war now certain both parties will begin to snap up prizes when
they get the chance. So you must keep a sharp look-out for
Genoese galleys. If you find the coast is too closely watched,
you will go to the Moorish ports. We are friends with them at
present, though doubtless, as soon as Genoa and ourselves get
to blows, they will be resuming their piratical work Thus
you will, this time, take in a much smaller amount of cargo, as
you will have to pay for the most part in gold."

It mattered little to Francis where he voyaged; but Matteo,
who had been greatly delighted at the thought of sailing with
his friend, was much disappointed when he heard that they
were only going to fetch grain from Sicily.

" Why, it is nothing to call a voyage," he said in tones of
disgust, when Francis told him the destination of the Lido.
" I had hoped we were going to make a long voyage, and touch
at all sorts of places, just as you did last time."

" I do not see that it matters much, Matteo; and we shall
learn navigation just as well from one course as another. The
voyage will not be a long one, unless we meet with unfavour-
able winds ; but there's no saying what may happen, and you
may meet with adventure even on a voyage to Sicily and
back"

The trip down to Sicily was quickly made. Francis had
worked hard on his first voyage, and was now able to make daily
calculations as to the run made, the course steered, and the posi-
tion of the ship, and found that these tallied closely with those
of the captain. Matteo and he shared a large and handsome
cabin, and the time passed pleasantly as the vessel ran down
the coast of Italy. Once out of the Adriatic a sharp look-out
was kept, but the coast of Sicily was made without seeing any
sails: of a ^uspicioua character. The lads were struck with

J II

( 'i

164

KTNA.

3 .

iBh

yi'

surprise and admiration when, on coming on deck in the mor
ning, they saw the great cone of Etna lying ahead of them.

Neither of them had ever seen a mountain of any size, and
their interest in the scene was heightened by a slight wreath
of smoke which curled up fiom the summit of the hill

" It is well worth a voyage, if it were only to see that moun-
tain," Francis said. " Wh^t an immense height it is, and how
regular in ^ts si p^!"

" Anti yet," ;'«!;ittea "".id, "those who have journeyed from
Italy into Frujce Uili vl»c that there are mountains there beside
which Etna is as nothing. These mountains are a continuation
of the range of hills which we can see from Venice. Their tops
are always covered with snow, and cannot be ascended by man ;
whereas it is easy, they say, to reach the top of Etna."

" Yes, that looks easy enough," Francis agreed. " It seems
such a regular slope, that one could almost ride up ; but I dare
say, when you are close you would find all sorts of difficult
places."

" I should like to try," Matteo said. " What a grand view
there would be from the top 1 Is the port we are going to try
first, captain, anywhere near the foot of the mountain?"

"No, I am going round the southern part of the island. On
thie side the ground is less fertile, and we should have difficulty
in obtaining a cargo. But even were we to put iuJo a port on
this side, you would not be able to climb Mount Etna.

" Sicily has been an unfortunate country. Its great natural
wealth has rendered it an object of desire to all its neighbours.
It was the battle-ground of the Eomans and Carthaginians.
Pisa, Genoa, and Naples have all contended for its possession ;
and the Moors frequently make descents upon its coasts. It
has seldom enjoyed a peaceful and settled government. The
consequence is that general lawlessness prevails in the districts
remote from the towns; while in the forests that clothe the side of

lOT

and
Bath

Loun-
hovr

from
»eside
lation
r tops
^man;

I seems
I dare
Ufficult

id view
to try

Id. On
ifficulty
(port on

I natural
Ihbours.
Iginians.
session ;
Lsts. It
(t. The
listricts
le side of

MATTEO'S ASPIRATION.

165

Mount Etna there are numerous hordes of bandits who set the
authorities at defiance, levy blackmail throughout the surround-
irg villages, and carry otf wealthy inhabitants, and put them
to i'ansom. No one in his senses would think of ascending
that mountain, unless he had something like an army with
him."

" T should like to try it all the same," Matteo asserted. " If
there are woods all over it, it is not likely one would happen
to mefet with any of these people. I should like, above all
things, to get to the top of that hill."

" It would be harder work than you think f <>ung sir," the
captain said. " You have no idea from this cititf e what the
height is, or what a long journey it is to i "c.nc io the top.
I have been told that it is a hundred anr v-eiy miles round
its foot."

"I don't think you would like it. Matt if you were to try
it," Francis said laughing. " You know you are as lazy as you
can be, and hate exerting yourself. I am sure that before you
got a quarter the distance up that mountain you would have
only one wish, and that would be to be at the bottom again."

" I don't know," Matteo said. " I hate exerting myself
uselessly — wasting my strength, as you do, in rowing at an oar,
or anything of that sort; but to do anything great, I would
not mind exertion, and would go on until I dropped."

"That is all very well, Matteo; but to do anything great
you have got to do small things first. You could never wield a
sword for five minutes unless you had practised with it; and
you will never succeed in accomplishing any feats requir-
ing great strength and endurance, if you do not practise your
muscles on every occasion. You used to grumble at the height
when you came up to my room in the old house, and I sup-
pose Etna is something like two hundred times as high."

"That does sound a serious undertaking," Matteo said

•1

"GENOESE GALLEYS ARE ENTERING THE BAY."

laughing; " and I am afraid that I shall never see the view from
the top of Etna. Certainly I shall not, if it will be necessary
beforehand to be always exercising my muscles by running up
the stairs of high houses."

The next day they were off Girgenti, the port at which they
hoped to obtain a cargo. They steered in until they encoun-
tered a Bshing-ljoat, and learned from those on board that there
was no Genoese vessel in port, nor, as far as the men knew, any
state galleys anywhere in the neighbourhood. Obtaining this
news, they sailed boldly into the port and dropped anchor.
Francis, who had received before starting a list of houses with
whom Signor Polani was in the habit of doing business, at
once rowed ashore, Matteo and Giuseppi accompanying him.
His business arrangements were soon completed; the harvest
had been a good one, and there was an abundance of com to
be had at a cheap rate.

In half an hour he arranged for as large a quantity as the
Lido would carry. The work of loading soon commenced, and
in four days the ship was full up to the hatches.

Francis went on shore to settle the various accounts, and was
just making the last payment when Matteo ran into the office.

"Four Genoese galleys are entering the bayl"

Francis ran out, and saw four Genoese galleys rowing in.

" It is too late to escapa Even were we empty we could
not get away; but laden as the Lido is, they could row three
feet to her one."

"What shall we do, Francisco?"

Francis stood for half a minute thinking.

" You had better stay here, Matteo. I will row out to the
ship and send most of the men on shore. If they seize the
ship, they may not take those on board prisoners; but if they
do, there is no reason why they should take us all"

"You had better come on shore too, Francisco, and leave

I«

I WILL NOT SUFFER IT.'

167

the captain in charge. You can do no good by staying there ;
and Polani would be more concerned at your capture than he
would at the loss of a dozen ships. If you could do any good,
it would be different ; but as it is, it would be foolish to risk
capture."

"I will see," Francis said; " at any rate do you stop here."

Jumping into a boat, he rowed towards the Lido, which was
lying but a cable's-length from the shore. As he neared her,
he shouted to the men to lower the boats.

" Captain," he said, ** I do not know whether there is any
danger of being captured by the Genoese. But it is useless
to run any unnecessary risk ; therefore send all the crew but
three or four men on shore. If the Genoese board us, we have
our papers as peaceful traders buying wheat; but if, in spite of
that, they capture us, we must take our chance."

" Surely you are not thinking of stopping, Messer Francisco.
The padrone would be terribly vexed if you were taken. He
specially ordered me, before we started, to see that no unneces-
sary risk was run, and to prevent you from thrusting yourself
into danger. Therefore, as captain of the ship, I must insist
that you go on shore."

" I think I ought to stay here," Francis said.

" I do not think so," the captain said firmly, " and I will
not suffer it. I have to answer for your safety to the padrone;
and if you do not go by yourself, I shall order the men
to put you into one of the boats by force. I mean no dis-
respect; but I know my duty, and that is to prevent you from
falling into the hands of the Genoese."

" I will not oblige you to use force, captain," Francis said
smiling, "and will do as you wish me."

In five minutes the men were all— save four, whom the cap-
tain had selected — in the boat, and rowing towards shore.
Matteo was awaiting them when they landed.

\ I

168

•*1 KNOW HOW OBSTINATE YOU AREi'*

** That is right, Francisco. I was half afraid you would stay
on board. I know how obstinate you are whenever you take a
thing into your head."

" The captain was more obstinate still, Matteo, and said that
unless I came away he would send me on shore by force; but
I don't like deserting the ship."

" That is nonsense, Francisco. If the Genoese take her, they
take her, and your remaining on board could not do any good.
What are you going to do now?"

'* ./e will at once leave the place with the men, Matteo, and
retire into the country behind. It is not likely the Genoese
would land and seize us here, but they might do so, or the
inhabitants, to please Genoa, might seize us and send us on
board. At any rate We shall be safer in the country."

The men had, by the captain's orders, brought their arms
ashore on leaving the ship. This was the suggestion of Francis,
who said that were they unarmed the people might seize them
and hand them over to the Genoese.

At the head of this party, which was about fifty strong,
Francis marched up through the little town and out into the
country. He had really but little fear either that the Genoese
would arrest them on shore, or that the people would interfere
with them, for they would not care to risk the anger of Venice
by interfering in such a matter. He thought it probable,
however, that if his men remained in the town, broils would
arise between them and any of the Genoese sailors who might
land.

As soon as the Genoese galleys came up to the head of the
bay a boat was lowered and rowed to the Lido, at whose mast-
head the Venetian flag was flying. An officer, followed by six
men, climbed up on to the deck.

"Are you the captain of this ship?" the o£Scer asked as the
captain approached him.

M?il

"YOU ARE MY PRISONER."

169

I stay
ake &

ithat
)', but

•, they
good.

>o, and

enoese

or the

us on

r arms
''rancis,
;e them

strong,
nto the
Genoese
aterfere
Venice
robable,
would

might

1 of the
36 mast-
i by six

1 as the

" I am," the captain said.

"What ship is it?"

" It is the Lido, the property of Mosser Polani, a Tocrchant
of Venice, and laden with a cargo of wheat."

"Then you are my prisoner," the Genoese said. "I seize
this vessel as lawful {)rize."

"There is peace between the republics," the captain said.
"I protest against the seizure of this ship as an act of piracy."

"We have news that several of our ships have been seized
by the Venetians," the officer said ; " and we therefore capture
this vessel in reprisal. Wliere are your crewl"

" There are only four on board," the captain said. "We have
filled up our cargo and were going to sail to-morrow, and there-
fore the rest of the crew were allowed to go on shore ; and I
do not think it is likely that they will return now," for one of
the Genoese sailors had hauled down the flag of Venice and
had replaced it with that of Genoa.

The Genoese officer briefly examined the vessel.

"Whom have you here on board with you?" he asked, struck
with the furniture and fittings of Francis' cabin.

" This is the cabin of Matteo Giustiniani, a young noble of
Venice, who is making his first voyage in order to fit himself
for entering the service of the state, and of Francisco Hammond,
who stands high in the affections of my patron."

The Genoese uttered an angry exclamation. The name of
Polani was well known in Genoa as one of the chief merchants
of Venice and as belonging to a ducal house, while the family of
Giustiniani was even more illustrious; and had these passen-
gers fallen into his hands, a ransom might have been obtained
greatly exceeding the value of the Lido and her cargo.

Leaving four of his men on board he went ofif to the galley
of the officer commanding the fiieet, and presently returned
with a large boat full of sailors. .^: . /...

: 1

■l,\

170

THE BIVOUAa

"You an^ your men can go ashore," he said to the captain.
" The admiral does not deem you worth the trouble of carrying
to Genoa; but be quick, or you will have to swim to shore."

As the Lido's boats had all gone ashore the captain hailed a
fishing-boat which was passing, and with the four sailors was
i'owed to shore, well content that he had escaped the dungeons
of Genoa. He rightly imagined that he and his men were
released solely on account of the paucity of their numbers.
Had tl-e whole crew been captured they would have been
carried tc Genoa; but the admiral did not care to bring in five
prisoners only, and preferred taking the ship alone.

Francis with his party followed the line of the coast, ascend-
ing; the hills which rose steeply from the edge of the sea at a
short distance from the town. He had brought with him from
the town a supply of food sufficient for four or five days, and
encamped in a little wood near the edge of the cliff. From
this they had a view of the port and could watch the doinga
of the Genoese galleys. Fires were lit and meat cooked over
them; and just as the meal was prepared the captain and the
four sailors joined them amid a hearty cheer from the crew.

" I have made vay protest," the captain said as he took his
seat by the side of Francis, "and the padrone can make a com-
plaint before the council if he thinks fit to do 550; but there is
small chance that he will ever recover the Lido or the value of
her cargo." ^ %

"I don't like losing the ship," Francis said. "Of course it
is only a stroke of bad fortune, and we could neither fly nor
defend ourselves. Still one hatviS arriving home with the story
that one has lost the ship."

"Yes," the captain agreed. "Messer Polani is a just man, yet
no one cares to employ men who are unlucky; and the worst
of it is that the last ship I commanded was wrecked. Many
men would not have employed me again, although it wasn't

▲ WALK ALONG THE CLIFFS.

171

mf fault. But after this second affair in a few months* time I
shall get the name of being an unlucky man, and no one in
his senses would employ a man who is always losing his
ships."

"Do you think that there is any chance of our recapturing it,
captain 1"

" Not the least in the world," the captain replied. "Even sup-
posing that we could get on board and overpower the Genoese
without being heard, and get her out of the port without being
seen, we should not get away. Laden as she is with grain, she
will sail very slowly, and the Genoese would overtake her in a
few hours; and I needn't tell you that then there would be
very little mercy shown to any on board."

" That is true enough," Francis said. " Still I do not like
the idea of losing the Lido"

After the meal was over Francis rose and asked Matteo to
accompany him on a stroll along the cliffs, Giuseppi as usual
following them. They walked along until they rounded the
head of the bay and were able to look along the coast for some
distance. It was steep and rocky and worn into a number of
slight indentations. In one of these rose a ledge of rocks at a
very short distance from the shore.

"How much further are we going, Francis 1" Matteo said
when they had walked a couple of miles.

"About a quarter of a mile, Matteo. I want to examine
that ledge of rocks we saw from the first point."

"What on earth do you want to look at them for, Francis 1
You certainly are the most curious fellow I ever met. You
scofifed at me when I said I should like to go up Mount Etna,
and now here you are dragging me along this cliff just to look
at some rocks of no possible interest to any one."

" That is the point to be inquired into, Mattea I think it's
possible they may prove very interesting^"

^ A

172

MATTEO IS PUZZLED.

ifiM'

Matteo shrugged his shoulders, as he often did when he felt
too lazy to combat the eccentric ideas of his English friend.

" There we are," Frar :Is said at last, standing on the edge
of the cliflF and looking down. "Nothing could be better."

" I am glad you think so, Francisco," Matteo said, seating
himself on the grass. " I hope you intend to stay some little
time to admire them, for I own that I should like a rest before
I go back*."

Francis stood looking at the rocks. The bay was a shallow
one and was but five or six hundred yards from point to point,
the rocks rising nearly in a line between the points and show-
ing for about two hundred yards above water, and at about
the same distance -from the cliffs behind them.

"What height do you think those rocks are above the water,
Giuseppi]"

"It is difficult to judge, signer, we are so high above them; but
I should think in the middle they must be ten or twelve feet"

" I should think it likely they were more than double that,
Giuseppi; but we shall see better when we get down to the
bottom. I daresay we shall find a place where we can clamber
down somewhere."

"±Aj d>ar Francisco," Matteo said earnestly, "is anything
the matter with you? I begin to have doubts of your sanity.
What on earth do these rocks matter to you one way or the
other? or what can you care whether they are thirty inches or
thirty feet above the water? They do not differ from other
rocks, as far as I can see. They are very rugged and very
rough, and would be very awkward if they lay out at sea
instead of in this little bay, where they are in nobody's way.
Is it not enough that you have tramped two miles to have a
look at them, which means four miles, as we have got to return
flomehow ? and now you talk about climbing down that break-
neck cliff to have a look at them close!" : ^

MATTEO PROTESTa

173

he felt
end.
16 edge
,er."
seating
ae little
b before

shallow
;o point,
id show-
it about

le water,

hem; but
Ive feet"
ible that,
m to the
clamber

anything
ur sanity,
ay or the

inches or
com other

and very
>ut at sea
ody's way.

to have a

to return
hat break-

But Francis paid no attention to Matteo's words. He wls
gazing down into the clear smooth water, which was so trans-
parent that every stone and pebble at t-he bottom could be seen.

"The "ater looks extremely shallow, Giuseppi. What do
you think?"

" It seems to me, signer, that there is not a foot of water
between the rocks and the shore."

"It does look so, Giuseppi; but it is possible that the trans-
parency of the water deceives us, and that there may be ten or
twelve feet of water there. However, that is what we must
go down and find out. Now the first thing is to look about and
find some point at which we can get down the beach."

"Well, I will lie down and take a nap till you come back,"
Matteo said in a tone of resignation. "I have no interest
either in these rocks or in the water; and as far as I can pro-
test I do so against the whole proceeding, which to me savours
of madness."

"Don't you understand, you silly fellow, what I am thinking
about?" Francis said impatiently.

•' "Not in the smallest degree, Francisco; but do not trouble
to tell me — it makes no matter. You have some idea in your
head, carry it out by all means; only don't ask me to cut my
hands, tear my clothes, and put myself into a perspiration by
climb'' ng down that cliff."

• " My idea is this, Matteo. There is no chance of carrying
off the Lido by speed from the Genoese; but if we could get
her out of the bay we might bring her round here and lay her
behind those rocks, and the Genoese would pass by without
dreaming she was there. Half a mile out those rocks would
look as if they form part of the cliff, and none would suspect
there was a passage behind them."

"That is something like ad idea!" Matteo said, jumping to
his feet. " Why did you not tell me of it before ? You hav©

ill

-•<VM^ifrffi*tJlSi''v^f^r:'ii'

■■.■a...>-fMU..,..-».. -.-..^ j

« i;

: i:

i!l

'(9

174

"GIUSBPPI CAN WADB OUT.'*

quite alarmed me. Seriously I began to think that you had
become a little mad, and was wondering whether I had not
better go back and fetch the captain and some of his men to
look after you. Now let us look at your rocks again. Why,
man, there is not water enough to float a boat between them
and the shore, much less the Lido^ which draws nine foot of
water now she is loaded."

"I don't know, Matteo. Looking down on water from a
height is very deceiving; if it is clear and transparent there is
nothing to enable you to judge its depth. At any rate it is
worth trying. Before we go down we will cut some long stiff
rods with which we can measure the depth. But we have first
to find a place where we can get down to the water."

After a quarter of an hour's search they found a point where
the descent seemed practicable. A little stream had worn a
deep fissure in the face of the rock, shrubs and bushes had
grown up in the crevices and afforded a hold for the hands, and
there appeared no great difficulty in getting down. Before
starting they cut three stiff slender rods t- cive feet in length.
They then set to work to make the descent. It was by no
means difficult, and in a few minutes they stood by the edge
of the water.

" It is a great advantage, the path being so easy," Francis
said, " for in case they did discover the ship we could land and
climb to the top before they had time to come to shore, and
cnce there we could keep the whole force in those galleys at
bay. Now for the main point, the depth of the water."

Matteo shook his head.

" It is useless to take the trouble to undress, Francis," he
said, as the latter threw off his jacket. " Giuseppi can wade
out to the rocks without wetting his knees."

" Giuseppi can try if he likes," Francis said, " but I will
wager he will not get far."

i:|

)AiA-*''

**I SHALL BELIEVB YOU IN FUTURE.'

176

Giuseppi, as convinced as Matteo of the shallowness of the
water, stepped into it, but was surprised to find that before he
had gone many paces the water was up to his waist.

"Well, I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it,"
Matteo said wl.\en he returned, "but I think he must have got
into a deep hole among the rocks; however, we shall soon see,"
and he too began to undress.

In a few minutes the three lads were swimming out towards
the rocks which, as Francis had anticipated, rose from twenty
to thirty feet above the level of the sea. The water deepened
fast, and for the last thirty or forty yards they were unable to
touch the bottom, even when thrusting down their rod'' to the
fullest depth. They then tried the depth in the passages at the
end of the rocks and found that there was ample water for the
Lido. When they ascertained this to their satisfaction they
swam back to the shore.

" I shall believe you in future, Francis, even if you assert
that the moon is made of cheese. I could have taken an oath
that there was not a foot of water between those rocks and the
shore."

"I hardly ven cured to hope that it was as deep as it is,"
Francis said, " but I know how deceiving clear water is when
you look down upon it from a height. However, that point is
settled."

" But they would see our n;asts above the rocks, Francisco ;
they are sure to keep a sharp look-out as they g< along."

" We must take the masts out of her," Francis d. "• I don't
know how it is to be done, but the captain w know, and if
that can't be managed we must cut them down There is no
difficulty about that. Now we will make oui ay back again,
it will be dark in a coui)le of hours' time. Everything depends
upon whether they have towed the Lido ou and anchored her
among their galleys. If they have I fear the scheme is

1 .

ii i

'"'mmmm

176

GIUSEPPI'S INSTRUCTIONS.

i: i;

impracticable, but if they let her remain where she is lying we
miglit get her out without being noticed, for there is no
moon."

As they began to ascend the cliff Francis stopped sud-
denly.

" We should never be able to find this place in the dark,"
he said. "Giuseppi, you must stay here. Do you collect a
quantity of dried sticks, and lay them in readiness at that
point opposite the ledge; we will show a light as we come along,
that is if we succeed in getting the Lido out, and directly you
see it set fire to the sticks; the fire will be a guide to us as to
the position of the rocks."

"Perhaps I had better take the sticks oflf to the ledge,
Messer Francisco, and light my fire on the rock at the end.
The water is deep a few yards out, as we found, so you could
sail close to the fire and then round behind the rocks without
danger."

" That will be the best way, Giuseppi; but how will you get
the sticks off without wetting them?"

" I will make a bundle three or four times as big as I want,"
Giuseppi said, " and then half of them will be dry. I can put
my clothes on them and the tinder. I will answer for the fire,
but I would rather have been with you in your adventure."

" There will be no danger there, Giuseppi, so you need not
be anxious about us; it has to be done quietly and secretly,
and there will be no fighting. These Genoese are too strong to
think of that; and if we are discovered in the attempt, or as we
make off, we shall take to our boats again and row straight on
shore. Keep a sharp look-out for us, we will hoist two lights,
one above the other, to prevent your mistaking any fishing-boat
which may be coming along for us. Now, Matteo, for a climb ;
we have no time to lose."

The two lads climbed to the top of the cliff, and then started

\ 11

"WB HAVE SETtLED IT, CAPTAIN.*'

177

at a brisk pace along the top, and in half an hour reached the
wood.

" We were beginning to wonder what had become of you,"
the captain said as they joined hint

" We have been settling how to carry ofi' the Lido" Fruncis
said, "and have arranged everything."

The captain laughed. .

" If we could fly with her through the air you might get her
away, but I see no other way. I have been thinking it over
since you left. With luck we might get her safely out of the
bay, but the galleys row four feet to our one, and as they
would be sure to send some one way and some the other along
the coast, they would pick us up again in two or three hours
after daylight."

" Nevertheless we have settled it, captain. We have found a
place where we can hide her, and the Genoese might search the
coast fof a month without finding her." $

"If that be so it is possible," the cap^ lin r aid eagerly, " and
you may be sure you will not find us b tuKward in doing our
best."

Francis described the nature and position of the rock which
would afford a shelter, and the means by which they had ascer-
tained that there was plenty of water for the Lido behind it.

"It seems plausible," the captain said when he had con-
cluded, " and I am quite ready to make the attempt if, in your
opinion, it can be done. You are Messer Polani's representa-
tive, and for my own sake as well as his I would do anything
which promises a chance of recapturing the ship; besides, as
you say, there is little danger in it, for we can take to the boats
and make for the shore if discovered. The Lido is stili lying
where we anchored her. They can have no fear of a recapture,
for they would know that they could overtake us easily enough.
I daresay they intend to sail to-morrow morning, and did not

(468) M

F ^3E»

'. f

ill ■
11 ;

'Hi- ':

IRii'

178

SETTINO OUT ON THE ADVENTURB,

think it worth the trouble to get up the anchor and tow her
out to where they are l3ang "

The details of the expedition were now discussed and
arranged, and the men told off to their various duties, and at
eleven o'clock at night, when all in the town were fast asleep,
the party quitted the bivouac and marched down again to the
port

mf-

ini

tow her

sed and

I, and at
t asleep,
a to the

[1 ^1 'H

' i 'r

. r'.'

■ 1 ;j| '■'

it;'

. ':

1 !'

I'.

SH.

•ii''

if I

^■m

,1,, I

■i:

^^J

5)/"^ ^^S'^

h^H

M^^

CHAPTER X.

RECAPTURED.

one was astir in the streets as the band inarched
through, and they reached the port without
encountering a single person. A small boat was
chosen, and in this the captain, Francis, Mattco,
and two of the strongest and most powerful of the sailors
embarked. It was thought unlik* .y that, lying, as the Lido did,
within a couple of hundred yards of the Genoese galleys, any
very vigilant watch would be kept, and not more than two sailors
would probably be on deck.

The dark mass of the ship could just be made out from the
shore, and when all was ready the two sailors with their oars
pushed her off with all their strength, and then stood perfectly
quiet. The impetus was sufficient. The boat moved so slowly
through the water, indeed, before they reached the ship that
Francis thought it would be i.'^cessary for the men to row a
stroke or two, but the boat still moved on until at last it touched
the side of the ship. All had removed th'ir boots before start-
ing, and they now clambered up the sides without making the
slightest noise.

Once on deck they stood perfectly quiet, listening. Presently
they heard a murmui of voices on the other side of the vessel.
Very quietly they crept towards the sound, and at length

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23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580

(716) 872-4503

i'i ♦

180

A SURPRISE

made out two figures leaning over the bulwarks talking. Each
man's work had been settled, and there was no confusion. One
of the sailors and Francis stole towards one of the men, while
tlv9 other and Matteo approached the second. The captain
stood with his sword bared in readiness to cut down any other
man who might be on deck. The Genoese did not look round.

Francis gave the word, " Now," and in a moment the two
sailors seized them from behind with a grasp of iron, while the
lads at the same moment passed bandages tightly round their
mouths, and before the Genoese were quite aware of what had
happened they were lying bound hand and foot gagged upon
the deck. The party now made a search, but found no one else
about. They then secured and fastened down the hatch of the
forecastle by coiling ropes upon it, quietly opened the door
leading to the poop cabins, and entering, seized and bound two
officers sleeping there without the slightest noise or resistance.
Then they took a light from the cabin and showed it towards
the shore.

At the signal the sailors, who had already taken their places
in the boats, at once rowed out to the vessel. When all were
on board, the boats were fastened alongside in case it should
be necessary to abandon the ship again. The cable was then
cut One of the sailors had already ascended the shrouds and
poured oil over the blocks through which the halyards ran so
that the sails should ascend noiselessly. The wind was very
light, scarcely enough to belly out the sails, but it was fortu-
nately in the right direction, and the Lido began to steal through
the water. Not a word had been spoken since they first started,
but Francis now whispered to the captain, "I think I can make
out the Genoese ships."

" So can I," the captain said, " but they cannot see us ; they
are against the sky-line, while we are in the shadow of the
shore; so far all is perfectly safe, and if this breath ol wind vrill

i'T.

FAIRLT AWAT.

181

Bach
One

Bvhile
ptain
other
ound.
e two
le the
their
at had
1 upon
ne else
. of the
te door
ind two
istance.
lowards

r places
all were
t should
(ras then
)uds and
Is ran so
NHS very
as fortu-
through
started,
can make

us; they
)W oi the
wind will

'. i

but carry us far enough out to be able to use our oars without
their hearing us we shall certainly get away."

The progress of the Lido was so slow that it was nearly an
hour before the captain said that he thought they were now
fairly round the point of the bay and could use their oars.
"We had better tow," he said; "the sweeps make a noise that
can be heard miles away on a calm night like this, whereas, if
they are careful, men in a boat can row almost noiselessly."

Ten of the men accordingly took their places in one of the
large boats in which they had come on board, and a rope being
passed down to them they began rowing at the head of the
ship.

" We may as well lower the sails," the captain said, "they are
doing no good now. Indeed I think it is a current rather than
the wind that has helped us so far."

" I will put two lanterns over the side," Francis said. " We
may have gone farther than we think, and it would never do to
pass our hiding-place."

The men in the boat rowed vigorously, but it was slow work
towing the deeply laden vessel. At last, however, a light burst
suddenly up from the shore.

" There is Giuseppi," Francis exclaimed. " We are further
out than we thought we were. He must be fully a mile and a
half away."

The men in the boat were told to row direct for the light,
and some of the sweeps were got out and helped the vessel
through the water.

As they drew near they could make out Giuseppi throwing
fresh wood on the fire.

" You can steer within ten yards of where he is standing,
captain, and directly you are abreast of him put your helm hard
to port You had better get the sweeps in now, the less way
she has on her the better."

182

IN THE HIDING-PLACHL

; V:

I !

"All well?" Giuseppi hailed, as they came within fifty yards
of it

"All well, Giuseppi! There has been no fighting, so you
have lost nothing. Put all your wood on the fire, we want as
much light as we can to get in."

The flames shot up high, and the captain had no difficulty in
rounding the corner of the rocks and bringing up his vessel
behind them. A kedge was dropped, and the men in the boat
rowed to the end of the rocks and brought oflf Giuseppi

" I was beginning to be anxious," the lad said, as he joined
them on deck, "and when I first saw your signal I took you for
a fishing-boat; you were so far ofi" that the two lights looked
like one, but by dint of gazing I made them out at last, and
then lit the fire."

"Now, captain," Francis said, "we have a good deal to do
before morning, for I take it it will be no easy matter to get
out the masts."

" There would be no difficulty in getting the masts out," the
captain answered. " I have only to knock out the wedges and
loosen the stays, and get up a tripod made of three spars to lift
them out; but I don't see how they are to be got in again."

"How is that, captain 1 1 should have thought it no more
difficult to get a mast in than to take it out."

"Nor would it be so under ordinary circumstances," the
captain replied; "but you see our hold is full of grain, and as
the mast comes out the hole it leaves will fill up and there
will be no getting it down again to step it on the keel without
discharging the cargo."

"Yes, I see that, captain. Then you think we had better
cut down the masts; but in that case how are we to raise
them again 1"

" We will cut them off about six feet above the deck, Messer
Francisco; then when we want to set sail again we have only to

THE PRISONERS.

183

arda

you
nt as

Ity in
vessel
9 boat

ioined
rou for ■
looked
,st, and

a to do
• to get

ut " the
[ges and
rs

^ain.
no more

to lift

ces," the
D, and as
nd there
I without

ad better
) to raise

;k, Messer
i,ve only to

rear the masts up by the side of the stumps, and lash them
securely. Of course they will be six feet shorter than before,
but that is of little consequence."
.; " Then so let it be," Francis said, " the sooner we begin the
better." •

Just at this moment there was a violent knocking against the
hatch of the forecastle.

"I had forgotten all about the sailors," the captain said,
laughing. " I suppose the men who were to relieve the watch
have woke up, and finding they could not get out have aroused
their comrades."

"Shall we 4eave them there, or take them out and bind
theml" Matteo asked.

" We had better have them up," the captain said. " I don't
suppose there are more than twenty of them, and it would be
best to bind them and i)ut them down in the hold with the corn,
otherwise they may manage to break out when we are not ex-
pecting it, and might give us some trouble."
• Accordingly, the sailors gathered round the hatch, the ropes
were then removed and the hatch taken off.

"What fooling are you up to?" one of the Genoese exclaimed,
angrily, as they rushed up on deck. " You have nearly stifled
us down below putting on the hatch and fastening it." He
stopped abruptly as, on gaining the deck, he saw a crowd of
armed figures round him, for a lantern had been placed so as to
throw a light upon the spot.

" You are prisoners," the captain said. " It is useless to at-
tempt resistance." " •

"Help, help, treachery 1" one of the Genoese shouted at the
top of his voice. -

" It is useless for you to shout," the captain said, " you are
miles away from your fleet. Now, do you surrender, or are we
to attack you! " . ■-

'^i

184

AWAITINO THE PURSUBRS.

II v,I

I ' ' f

I.:

Taken by surprise and unarmed, the Genoese who had gained
the deck sullenly replied that they surrendered. They were
bound and led away, and the others ordered to come up on deck.
There were found to be four-and-twenty in all, and these were
soon laid side by side on the grain in the hold, the hatch being
left off to give them air. The masts were then cut through,
and were with some trouble lowered to the deck.

" There is nothing more to be done now," the captain said,
" and I think we can all safely turn in till morning." He then
ordered the under officer to place two men on watch on the
rocks and two men on deck, two men to stand as sentinels over
the prisoners, and the rest to lie down. He directed that he
should be roused at the earliest streak of daylight. The lads
were soon fast asleep, and could hardly believe that the night
was over when Giuseppi awakened them with the news that
day was breaking. They were soon on deck, and found that
the crew were already astir. The sentinels on the rock were at
once ordered to lie down, so that they could command a view
of the sea without exposing themselves to sight. The boats
were drawn up alongside, and everything put in readiness for
instant debarkation, and then the party waited for the appear-
ance of the Genoese galleys.

" They will be along in less than an hour," the captain said.
" It is light enough now for the watch to have discovered that
the Lido is missing, and it will not be many minutes before they
are under way. They will calculate that we can have but five
or six hours' start at the utmost, and that three hours' rowing
will bring them up to us."

" I have no fear whatever of their discovering us as they go
along," Francis said. " The only fear is that after rowing for
three or four hours and seeing no sign of us they will guess
that we are hidden somewhere under the cliffs, and will come
back along the shore, searching every bay."

dned

were
deck,
were
being
'ough,

1 said,
e then
on the
Is over
ihat he
he lads
le night
ws that
nd that
1 were at
I a view
le boats
ness for
appear-

ain said.

$red that
ore they
but five
rowing

they go

^wing for

rill guess

come

A WATOH ALONG THE OLDT.

186

' '* There is a chance of that," the captain agreed, " but I should
think only a chance. When the party who come this way find
they do not overtake us they will suppose that we have sailed
to the west, and that on their return they will find us in the
hands of their comrades, and when these also come back empty
handed they will conclude that we have sailed straight out to
sea. Of course they may have sent a galley southward also, but
will conclude that that has somehow missed us when it returns
without news. I hardly think that the idea that we may be
hidden so close to them will enter their minds, and the only
fear I entertain is that some peasant may happen to come
to the edge of the cliff and see us lying here, and may take the
news back to Girgenti."

" Yes, there is certainly a danger of that," Francis said. " I
think, captain, it would be the best plan to land twenty men
at once. Giuseppi will show them the way up the cliff, and then
they must take their station at short distances apart along the
edge of the cliff, from point to point of this little bay, with
orders to seize any one who may approach and bring him down
here. They must, of course, be told to lie down, as a line of
sentries along the top of the cliff might attract the attention of
somebody on the galleys, and lead to a search."

" Yes, I think that will be a wise precaution," the captain
agreed. " Thomaso, do you take twenty men and post them
as you hear Messer Francisco say. Tell them to lie in the
bushes and keep out of sight, and on no account to show them-
selves unless some one comes along sufficiently near to look over
the edge of the cliff."

" Giuseppi," Francis said, " do you act as guide to the party.
You will have plenty of time to get to the top and to return
before the galleys come along."

A quarter of an hour later the captain with Matteo and
Francis landed on the ledge and took the place of the sentries,

186

THE GENOESE OALLET.

ii > .

and in twenty minutes a simultaneous exclamation burst from
them, as a Genoese galley was seen rowing rapidly along. '^t

" They have sent only one galle}^" Francis said. " Of course
they would know that it was sufficiently strong to overpower us
without difficulty. I suppose one has gone west and the others
have put out to sea in different directions; that certainly
was the best course they could have adopted, and it is very
lucky that we did not attempt to escape seaward, for they would
assuredly have had us. I suppose, captain, you intend to sail
to-night"

" Certainly," the captain replied. " We will get everything
in readiness for hoisting the masts as soon as the galley has
passed us on its way back. There is no fear of their coming
along again later on, for the men will have had an eight hours'
row of it, the first part, at any rate, at full speed ; besides, they
will not know until all the galleys return that we have not been
found, so I think it will be quite safe to get up the masts as
soon as they have passed. Then directly it is dark we will
man our oars and row to the south-west We shall be far away
before morning, even if they look further for us, which they are
hardly likely to do."

"How about the prisoners, captain 1"

"We have no choice but to take them with us, Messer
Francisco. I am sure I do not want to be bothered with
them, but we cannot land them before we leave, or they would
carry the news to Girgenti in an hour, and we should be caught
the first thing in the morning."

It was late in the afternoon before the galley was seen
returning, rowing slowly and heavily. "^ > '

' "I expect," the captain said, "they kept up the racing pace
at which they started for some four hours; by that time they
must have been completely worn out, and no doubt they
anchored and waited for some hours for the men to feed and

from

sourae
veruB •
others
•tainly
[8 very

would

to sail

rything
lley has
coming
it hours'
.es, they
not been
masts as
we will
far away
they are

,1' L

Messer
red with
jy would
^e caught

ras seen

sing pace

^me they

ibt they

I feed and

THE BAFFLED OALLET.

187

rest themselves, for from the hurry with which they started
you may be sure that they did not wait to break their fast.
I would give a month's pay to be in that harbour this evening.
What tempers they must be in when they find, after all their
toil, that we have slipped through their fingers; how they will
talk the matter over, and discuss which way we went; how the
men in each ship will say that the others cannot have used
their eyes or exerted themselves, else we must have been over-
taken. Messer Francisco, I am indebted to you, not only for
having saved the ship, but for giving me a joke, which I shall
laugh over whenever I think of it It will be a grand story to
tell over the wine-cups, how we cheated a whole Genoese fleet,
and carried off the Lido from under their noses. What a tale
it will be to relate to a Genoese, when we meet in some port after
the war is over; it will be enough to inake him dance with
rage.

" Now, lads," he went on, turning to the men,* "stand to your
tackle; the moment that galley gets out of sight round the
point, up with the mast."

Ten minutes later the masts were up, stout ropes were lashed
round them and the stumps, and wedges driven in to tighten
the cords to the utmost. The rigging was of the simplest
description, and before dark everything was in readiness for
hoisting the sails.

"I don't think they can make us out now," the captain
said.

"I don't think they could," Francis agreed; "but we had
better wait another quarter of an hour; it would be absurd to
run any risk after everything has turned out so well; but the
men can get into the boats and tow us out through the channel,
then we can hoist the boats on board, and by that time it
should be nearly dark enougL"

" I think there will be a breeze presently/' the captain said,

188

HOMB AGAIN.

i'(g f

"and from the right directioa However, the men won't mind
working hard for a bit, they have had an easy time for the last
two days."

The oars were all manned, and the men set to work with
hearty good-will. They were delighted at their escape from
the island, for they might have been there some time before they
got a passage back, and still more pleased at having tricked the
Genoese ; and the Lido^ heavy laden as she was, moved at a
steady pace through the water, under the impulsion of the
oars.

For an hour they rowed parallel with the shore, as, had they
made out to sea they might possibly have been seen by one
of the galleys returning late from the search for them. At
the end of that time the captain turned her head from shore.
As soon as they got well out from under the shelter of the
land the breeze made itself felt, and the sails were hoisted.
For a time the men kept on rowing, but the breeze increased
rapidly, and the captain ordered the oars to be laid in. A double
allowance of wine was served out, and an hour or two spent in
song and hilarity; then the watch below was sent down, and
Francis and Matteo turned into their cots.

In the morning the breeze was blowing strong; the sails had
been taken off the main-mast, but that on the fore mast was
dragging the Lido through the water at a good rate of speed,
and before night they were off Cape Spartivento. The wind
held till next morning, when they were abreast of the Gulf of
Taranto. Then came a long spell of calms or baffling winds,
and it was a fortnight before the campaniles of Venice were seen
rising apparently from the water.

" I have been anxious about you," Signer Polani said when
Francis arrived. "One of our galleys brought the report that
a Genoese fleet was cruising on the coast of Sicily, and as,
although war had not yet been openly declared, both parties

,t --

"IT Was just a happy idea.'*

189

were making prizes, I was afraid that they might have snapped
you up."

" They did snap us up," Francis said smiling. " They caught
us in the port of Girgenti, and the standard of Genoa waved
over the Lido."

"But how can that be," Polani said, "when you have returned
in herl for she was signalled as approaching the port hours
ago. You could hardly have persuaded the Genoese by fair
words to release a prize that they had once taken. Eh, cap-
tain?"

"No, that is not the Genoese way, nor ours either," the
captain said. "We did better than that, signer; we recaptured
her, and carried her off from under their noses."

"You are joking," Polani said, "for they signalled the Lido
as returning laden, and a laden ship could never get away from
state galleys, however long her start. A fat pig might as soon
try to escape from a hunting dog."

"That is so, Messer Polani, and we did not trust to our
speed; we tricked them famously, sir. At least, when I say we
did, Messer Francisco here did, for the credit is due solely to
him. If it had not been for this young gentleman I and the
crew would now have been camping out in the forests of Sicily,
without the slightest prospect of being able to make our way
home, and the Lido would now be moored in the port of
Genoa."

"That is so. Cousin Polani," Matteo said. "It is to Francisco
that we owe our escape, and you owe the safety of the Lido and
her cargo."

" It was just a happy idea that occurred to me," Francis
said, " as it would assuredly have occurred to Captain Pesoro,
if he had been with us, or to anyone else, and after I had first
suggested it the captain carried out all the arrangements."

" Not at ail, Messer Francisco," the captain said obstinately.

190

THE STORY TOLD.

.11

" I had no part or hand in the business beyond doing what yon
suggested, and you would have got the Lido off just as well if
I hadn't been there."

"Well, I will judge for myself when I hear," Polani said.
" But, as it must be an interesting story, my daughters would
like to hear it also; so, come into the next room and tell the
tale, and I will order up a flagon of Cyprus wine to moisten
your throats."

" First of all," the captain began, after the girls had greeted
Francis, and all had taken their seats, " I must tell how the
lAdo was captured." And he then related how the Genoese fleet
had suddenly appeared before them, and how, seeing the im-
possibility of escape, he had sent all on shore with the exception
of four sailors, and how he had with them been released and
sent on shore.

" That's the Genoese all over," Polani said. " If they could
have sent forty prisoners home they would have done so; but
the fact that there were only five on board when they took the
vessel would seem to them to detract from the credit of the
capture." ^

The captain then told how, fearing that the people of Girgenti
might give them all up to the Genoese, or that fights might
ensue among the Genoese sailors who landed, he had marched
the crew away out of the town.

" Now, captain," Matteo broke in, " I will tell the next bit,
because I was with Francis when he found a hiding-place."

He then related how Francis had seen the ledge of rocks in
the distance, and had dragged him along the cliff two miles to
observe them more closely ; and how he had come to the con-
clusion that his companion had lost his senses; then he
described the exact position and the clearness of the water,
and how he had been convinced that there was not depth to
float a row-boat inside the rocks; and how they had gone

WAR WITH GENOA.

191

it you
veil if

[ said,
would
9II the
loisten

preeted
yw the
ise fleet
the im-
ception
led and

y could

so; but

00k the

of the

irgenti
might
larched

3xt bit,
;e.»

ocks in
lies to
e con-
en he
water,
;h to
gone

down, swum out, fathomed the woter, and then returned to
the wood.

The captain then took up the tale again, and completed it to
the end.

"There is no doubt you were right, captain," Polani said,
"and that it is entirely Francisco's quickness of observation,
readiness of plan, and determination to see if his ideas
could be carried into ofTect, which saved the Lido. That he
posisessed these qualities is not new to me, for I have already
greatly benefited by them. If he had not been bom a peace-
ful trader he would have made a great captain some day; but
the qualities which would distinguish a man in war are also
useful in peace, and I think it fully as honourable to be a suc-
cessful merchant, as a successful soldier. Henceforth, Francisco,
I shall no longer consider you as in leading strings, and shall
feel that I can confide important business to you, young as you
are."

The next voyage that Francis made was to Jaffa, and this
was accomplished without adventure. On his return he found
that Venice was in a state of excitement — war had at last been
declared, and every effort was being made to fit out a fleet
which could cope with that of Genoa. The command was
intrusted to Vettore Pisani, who was invested in the church of
St. Mark with the supreme command of the fleet by the doge
himself, who handed to the admiral the great banner of
Venice, with the words :

" You are destined by God to defend with your valour this
republic, and to retaliate upon those who have dared to insult
her and to rob her of that security which she owes to the virtue
of her ancestors; wherefore, we confide to you this victorious
and great standard, which it will be your duty to restore to us
unsullied and triumphant."

Carlo Zeno, a noble, who had gained a high reputation in

«:

Mr I

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1 h

■i

1 j

u .

;

: i

I t

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19)

virrroRB pisanl

varions capacities, was appointed commissioner and eaptain-
general of Negropont. The three first divisions of those inscribed
in the register, as liable to serve in the navy, were called out,
and on the 24 th of April Pisani sailed from Venice with four-
teen war galleys.

Pisani enjoyed the highest popularity among the people of
Venice, his manner was that of a bluff hearty sailor, he was
always ready to share in the hardships of his men, and to set
them an example of good temper and cheerfulness, as well as
of bravery. He was quick-tempered, and when in a passion
cared nothing whom he struck ; when governor of Candia, he
had got into a serious scrape, by striking Pietro Cornaro, an
ofticer of the republic, from whom he happened to differ on
some point of routine.

He was a relative of the Doge Andrea Contarini, and had
been employed not only as an officer in the navy, but as a
military engineer and as a diplomatist, and in each capacity
had shown equal talent. He was connected with the Polani
family, and was at their house several times before he sailed.
Here he heard from his kinsman an account of the manner in
which Francisco had saved the Bonito from being rammed by
the pirates, and how he had succeeded in getting the Lido out
of the hands of the Genoese; and he was so much pleased that
he offered to take him with him in his galley, but Polani
advised Francis not to accept the offer.

" It is quite true," he said, " that most of our noble families
are, like myself, engaged in commerce, and that one day they
are trading as merchants and the next fighting under the state;
but at present, if you take my advice you will stick to the
peaceful side of the profession, especially as, being an English-
man, you are in no way called upon to serve the state. In
another five or six years, if we are then at war, it will be
different I have frequently offered galleys for the service of the

POLAnVs ADVIOIL

193

states and you can then take the command of one, and will, I
have no doubt, distinguish yourself; but were you to enter
now, you might remain in the service of the state for some
years, and would be losing your time as a merchant. There
are countries in which when a man once takes up the profession
of arms he remains a soldier all his life, and may not only
achieve honour but wealth and wide possessions. It is not so
in Venice; here we are all citizens as well as all soldiers if need
be. We fight for the state while a war lasts, and then return
to our peaceful avocations. Even my kinsman, Pisani, may be
admiral of the fleet to-day, and a week hence may be a private
citizen. Therefore, my lad, I think it would be very foolish of
you to give up commerce at present to take military ser-
vice.

"I quite agree with you, signor," Francis said, although,
in truth, for a moment he had felt a strong mind to accept the
offer of Pisani. " I am just beginning to learn a little of trade,
and desire nothing better than to be a successful merchant;
though I confess that I should like to take part in such a
glorious sea-fight as that which is likely to take place soon."

"Yes, and perhaps be killed in the first engagement,
Francis, for neither skill nor bravery avail agairst a bolt from
a Genoese cross-bow. No, my lad, be content with trade, espe-
cially since you have seen already that even the life of a trader
has plenty of incident and excitement. What with storms,
what with pirates, what with the enemies of the state and
the treachery of the native peoples with whom we trade, there
is no lack of adventure in the life of a Venetian merchant."

Francis felt that this was true, and that he had in the past
six months had fully his share in adventures. His stay
on shore this time extended over a month, and it was not

until three weeks after Pisani
The notice was a short one.

(468)

sailtid that
I'olani had

he again set out
been sent for to

i 4

194

A FKESH VOYAGE.

;

attend the council early in the morning, and on his return he
said to Francis :

" You must go down to the port at once, Francis. News has
been received from Pisani that he has sailed almost into the
port of Genoa, without finding the fleet of Fieschi. The
Genoese have been in a terrible state of panic. The Lord
of Fiesole, who is our ally, is menacing the city by land, the
Stella Company of Condottieri, which is in our pay, is also march-
ing against them ; and the news that Pisani was close at hand
seems to have frightened them out of their senses. Their first
step as usual has been to depose their doge and choose another.
However that is not the point. Pisani has written asking that
some ships with provisions and stores shall be sent out to him.
They are to go through the Straits of Messina and up the
coast of Italy until he meets them. His force is far too small
for him to think of making an attack upon Genoa. He will wait
in the neighbourhood of the city for a short time in hopes of
Fieschi's fleet returning; if it does not do so he will come
down the coast searching for it, and as he does not wish to
put in port, he desires the stores mentioned to be sent out to
him.

"I have placed the Bonito at their service, and have pro-
mised that she shall be ready to sail to-morrow morning, if
they will send the stores on board to-day. Three other
merchants placed ships at their disposal, but these may not
sail for a day or two. They are particularly anxious that the
Bonito shall start at once, as, in addition to provisions, she will
carry a store of javelins, arrows, and other missiles of which there
was not a sufiiciency in the arsenal when Pisani sailed. You
will have a strong party on board, as speed is required, and
the oars must be kept going until you join the fleet; therefore
I shall place the crew of the Lido on board as well as the
Bmitds own complement, and this will bring the number up to

▲ BUSY night's work.

196

return lie

S^ews has
b into the
chi. The
The Lord

land, the
Iso march-
56 at hand
Their first
se another,
isking that
)ut to him.
,nd up the
,r too small
le will wait
|in hopes of

will come
ot wish to

tent out to

have pro-
norning, if
tree other
|e may not
s that the
,s, she will
hich there
led. You
uired, and
therefore
ell aa the
iber up to

a hundred men. The captain has had an accident, and will not
be able to go in charge, therefore the Lidds captain will com-
mand. This time I shall appoint you specifically second in
command, as well as my representative. Now get off on board
as quickly as you can, for there is enough to keep you at work
till to-morrow morning to get everything in readiness for a
start. You had best run in and say good-bye to my daughters,
as it may be that you will not find time to return before sail-
ing. You can send your boy ashore for what things you
require. Matteo will accompany you."

A few minutes later Francis was on his way to the port^
leaving Giuseppi to charter a gondola and follow with his
trunks. As Polani had said, he was occupied without inter-
mission until the time for sailing next morning. The barges
of the state kept coming alongside with stores and provisions
from the arsenal; while other boats brought out the ship's
stores; and Francis had to take a note of all that came on
board. The captain superintended the setting up of the rig-
ging, and the getting of the ship into working order; while
the under officers saw to the hoisting in and storing of the
cargo. Gangs of men were at work tarring the sides of the
ship, for she had only two days before returned from a trip to
Spain; and a number of sailors were unloading the cargo from
one hatchway, while her fresh freight was being taken in at the
other. It seemed well-nigh impossible that she could be ready
to sail at the hour named, but every one worked with a will,
and by daybreak things were almost in order.

Polani himself came down to the port as soon as it was light,
and expressed satisfa'^tion at the work which had been done;
and half an hour afterwards the anchor was weighed. Just as
the sails had been hoisted, Matteo arrived.

"You are only just in time, Matteo," Polani said; "why
did you not come off yesterday and help? "

1151

!.■

.-4

196

BIATTEO IS REPRIMANDED.

Uit

" I was out," Matteo said, " when your message came, and
only returned just in time to go to the entertainment at the
ducal palace; I knew I could he of no use on board while
they were only getting in the cargo."

" You will never be of any use on board, Matteo, if you go
to entertainments when there's work to be done. You could
have taken the marks on the bales as they came on board just
as well as another. I suppose you thought that the dirt and
dust wouldn't suit a fine gentleman like you? Another time,
unless you come on board when sent for, and make yourself as
useful as you can while the ship is fitting out and loading, you
will not sail in her. One part of the duty is just as important
as the other, and seamanship does not consist solely in strolling
up and down the deck, and watching a vessel sail for her
destination." • > ^

"Matteo was abashed at the reproach, but soon recovered
his usual spirits after Polani had left when the vessel was
under way. - ,

"My cousin was rather in a sharp mood this morning," he
said with a laugh to Francis; "but really I did not think I
could be of any good, and the entertainment was a grand one.
Every one was there, and I should have been very sorry to
have missed it."

" Every one to his taste, Matteo. For my part I would very
much rather have been at work here all night watching the
cargo got in and checking it off, than have been standing
about doing nothing in the palace."

"Doing nothing!" Matteo repeated indignantly. "Why, I
was talking to some one the whole time I was there."

"Talking about what, Matteo]"

"The heat, and the music, and the costumes, and the last
bit of scandal at the Piazza."

" I don't call that talk, I call it chatter. And now, Matteo,

ime, and
t at the
rd while

f you go
ou could
Dard just
dirt and
[ler time,
»ursel{ as
ling, you
nportant
strolling
for her

ecovered
issel was

ling," he

think I

and one.

sorry to

aid very
ing the
tanding

Why, I

1 I

SEARCHING FOR PISANI.

197

I shall leave you to your own devices, for I am going to turn
in and get a sleep for a few hours."

**You look as if you wanted it," Matteo said; "but I
think that you stand in even more need of a wash. You
are grimy with dust. It is just as well that my cousin Giulia
did not come on board with her father this morning, for the
sight of your face would have given her quite a shock, and
would have dissipated any illusions she may have had that
you were a good-looking fellow."

Francis went off to his cabin with a laugh, and took Matteo's
advice as to the wash before he turned in. In a few minutes
he was asleep, and did not wake until Giuseppi came to say
that the mid-day meal was just ready.

The Bonito made a rapid voyage. The winds were light,
and for the most part favourable, and the twenty-four oars
were kept going night and day, the men relieving each other
every two hours, so that they had six hours' rest between the
spells of rowing. When they rounded the southern point of
Italy a sharp look-out was kept for the fleet of Fieschi, but they
passed through the straits without catching sight of a single
vessel carrying the Genoese flag. The most vigilant watch was
now kept for Pisani's galleys, and they always anchored at the
close of day, lest they should pass him in the dark. Occasionally
they overhauled a fishing-boat, and endeavoured to obtain news
of the two squadrons; but beyond the fact that Fieschi had been
seen steering north some days before, and that no signs had
been seen of Pisani's returning- fleet, they could learn nothing.

)he last

[atteo,

'^^^^aniMMHtM

CHAPTER XL

THE BATTLE OP ANTIUlt

1 «

n-'

E are running very far north," the captain said on
the 29th of May. " We are near Antium now, and
are getting into what we may call Genoese waters.
If anything has occurred to prevent Pisani carry-
ing out his intention of sailing back along this coast, or if he
has passed us on the way up, our position would be a hazardous
one, for as soon as he has rowed away the fJenoese galleys will
be on the move again, and even if we do not fall in with Fieschi
we may be snapped up by one of their cruiseis."

" It is rather risky, captain," Francis agreed ; " but our orders
are distinct. We were to sail north till we met Pisani, and we
must do so till we are within sight of the walls of Genoa. If
we then see he is not lying off the port we shall put about and
make our way back again."

" Yes, if they give us the chance, Messer Francisco; but long
before we are sufficiently near to Genoa to make out whether
Pisani is lying off the port they will see us from the hills, and
will send off a galley to bring us in. However, we must take
our chance, and if we get into a scrape I shall look to you con-
fidently to get us out again."

" I should advise you not to count on that," Francis said,
laughing. " It is not always one gets such a lucky combination
of circumstances as we did at GirgentL"

! I

NEWS OF THE GENOESE.

199

n said on
I now, and
!se waters,
sani carry-
b, or if he
hazardous
alleys will
th Fieschi

our orders
ni, and we
renoa. If
about and

but long
t whether

hills, and
must take
) you con-

tncis said,
mbination

At last they obtained news from a fishing-boat that Fieschi's
fleet had passed, going northward, on the previous day, and
was now lying in the bay of Antium. As Antium lay but a few
miles north they held a consultation as to the best method to
pursue. If they sailed on there was a risk of capture; but that
risk did not appear to be very great. The Genoese admiral
would not expect to find a Venetian merchant ship so near to
Genoa, and they might be able to pass without being inter-
fered with. On the other hand, news might possibly have come
of the departure of store-ships from Venice for Pisani's fleet,
and in that case a strict look-out would certainly be kept, and
it would be necessary to keep so far to sea as to be out of sight
of the Genoese; but in that case there would be a risk of their
missing Pisani's fleet on the way down.

" I think," the captain said after a long debate, " that we
had better anchor here close under the shore to-night. If I am
not mistaken we shall have a gale in the morning. I do not
like the look of the sky. To-morrow we shall see how the
weather is, and can then come to a decision."

By morning, as the captain had predicted, the wind was blow-
ing strongly and a heavy sea was running, and it was agreed
to keep along under the lee of the sliore until tliey could obtain
a view of the Bay of Antium, and see if the fleet of Fieschi was
still there; if so, they would tack and run back some distance
and make straight out to sea, so as to pass along four or five
miles from the shore, as it would be unlikely in the extreme
that the Genoese admiral would send a galley out to overhaul
a passin^? ship in such weather.

They sailed along till they neared the slight depression known
as the hii.y of Antium, and then bore farther out to sea.

Suddenly a fleet was seen running down the coast at some
distance away.

" 'Bout ship," the captain cried. " The Genoese have been

111

200

THE RIVAL FLEETS.

cruising further north, and are coming down the coast. In such
weather as tliis the Bonito ouglit to be able to get away from
them."

" It may be Pisani's fleet," Francis said, as the ship was put
round.

"It is possible," the captain agreed; "but we cannot run the
risk of stojjping until we make inquiries."

" No, captain ; but, at least, if we run a mile or so cut to sea
we should be able to see round the point and discover whether
Fieschi's galleys are there."

The captain assented. The vessel's head was turned from
the land. In ten minutes there was a joyous shout on board
the Bonito, for the Genoese fleet was seen lying in the bay.
The distant fleet must then form that of Pisani.

"See!" Francis exclaimed; "the Genoese have just caught
sight of them, aiii are hoisting sail. They are either going to
meet them or to run away. Our vessels are the most numerous;
but no, there is not much difference. Pisani has fourteen ships,
but some must be lagging behind, or have been lost. How
many do you make them out to be, captain 1 "

"I think there are only nine," the captain answered, "and
that is just the number of the Genoese."

"Then Fieschi will fight if he is not a coward," Matteo said;
"but, in that case, why are they making out to seal"

" Fieschi may not care to be attacked at anchor," the captain
replied; "that would give all the advantage to us; besides, if
they were beaten there would be but little chance of any of
them escaping. No, he is right to make out to sea, but blow-
ing as it is it will be next to impossible for him to fight there.
Two vessels could hardly get alongside to board in such a sea
as this. I expect Fieschi thinks that we shall never attack
him in such a storm; but Pisani would fight if it were a
Jiurricane;"

>ast. In such
it away from

ship was put

mot Pirn the

(0 cut to sea
ver whether

urned from
it on board
in the bay.

I'ust caught
er going to
numerous;
rteen ships,
ost. How

jred, "and

itteo said;

he captain
besides, if
of any of
but blow-
?ht there,
uch a sea
er attack
k were a

"CANNOT WE EDGE DOWN TOWARDS THEMI" 201

It did indeed seem almost impossible to fight in such a sea.
The Bonito was rolling, gunwale under. Her sail had been
reduced to its smallest proportions, and yet, when the squalls
struck her she was laid completely over on her side. But the
rival admirals were too anxious to fight to be deterred by the
difficulty, and both were bent upon bringing on an action at once.

" I would give anything to be on board one of our galleys,"
Matteo said. "It is horrible standing here doing nothing,
when such a fight as this is going to btgin."

"Cannot we edge dowu towards them, captain 1" Francis
asked. " I do not mean that we should take part in the fight,
for we have but a hundred men, and the galleys must each
carry at least three times as many; still we might be near enough
to see something, and perhaps to give succour to any disabled
ship that drops out of the fight"

" I will do so if you like, Messer Francisco," the captain said,
"if you will take the responsibility; but if our side gets the
worst of it, you must remember that the Bonito may be cap-
tured."

" I don't think there's much chance of Pisani being beaten
by an enemy no stronger than himself," Francis said; "and even
if they should be victorious, the Genoese will certainly have
enough on their hands with repairing damages and securing
prisoners to think of setting off in chase of a ship like ours."

" That is true enough," the captain agree or he was indeed
as anxious as Francis and Matteo to witness the struggle.

The vessels on both sides were under canvas, for it was im-
possible to row in such a sea. As soon as they approached each
other both fleets broke up, and the vessels each singling an
opponent out, the combat began. It was a singular one, and
differed widely from ordinary sea-fights of the time, in which
the combatants always tried to grapple with their enemies and
carry them by boarding. This w^ almost impossible now, for

202

A SEA-FIGHT.

i\ '

it seemed that the vessels would be dashed in pieces like egg-
shells were they to strike each other. Clouds of missiles were
poured from one to the other; the archers plied their bows;
great machines hurled javelins and big stones, and the crash
of the blows of the latter against the sides of the ships sounded
even above the noise of the wind and waves and the shouting
of the combatants. As for the cannon with which all the
galleys were armed, they were far too cumbrous and unmanage-
able to be worked in such weather.

Sometimes one vessel, lifted on the crest of a wave while its
opponent lay in a hollow, swept its decks with terrible effect;
while a few seconds later the advantage was on the other
side.

For a long time neither party seemed to gain any advantage.
Great numbers were killed on both sides, but victory did not in-
cline either way, until the mast of one of the Venetian galleys was
struck by a heavy stone and went over the side. She at once
fell out of the line of the battle, her opponent keeping close to
her, pouring in volumes of missiles, while the sea, taking her
on the broad side, washed numbers of her crew overboard. Her
opponent, seeing that she was altogether helpless, left her to be
taken possession of afterwards, and made for Pisani's galley,
which was distinguished by its flag at the masthead, and was
maintaining a desperate conflict with the galley of Fieschi.

The admiral's ship was now swept with missiles from both
sides, and when his adversaries saw that his crew was greatly
weakened they prepared to close, in spite of the state of the
sea. If Pisani himself could be captured there would remain
but seven Venetian ships to the nine Genoese, and victory was
certain.

The captain of the Bonito had lashed together some heavy
spars and thrown them overboard, having fastened a strong
rope to them, and was riding head to the waves by means

■nil-=

38 like egg-
issiles were
heir bows;
i the crash
ps sounded
10 shouting
ich all the
unmanage-

'e while its

•ible effect;

the other

advantage.

did not in-

galleys was

>he at once

ig close to

taking her

oard. Her

t her to be

li's galley,

1, and was

ieschi.

from both

as greatly

ate of the

Id remain

:ctory was

me heavy

a strong

by means

THE "BONITO" TO THE RESCUE I

203

of this sea anchor, at a distance of about half a mile from the
conflict. A cry of grief and rage had arisen when the crew saw
that one of their galleys was disabled, and their excitement be-
came intense when they saw the unequal struggle which Pisani
was maintaining.

" They are preparing to board, captain," Francis said. "We
must go to the admiral's aid^ if his ship is captured the battle
is lost."

" I am ready, Messer Francisco, if you authorize me."

" Certainly I do," Francis said. " The loss or capture of the
Bonito is as nothing in comparison to the importance of saving
Pisani"

The captain gave the order for the hawser to be cut and the
sail hoisted. A cheer broke from the crew as they saw what
was to be done. Their arms had been served out at the begin-
ning of the contest, and they now seized them and gathered in
readiness to take part in the fight .

The two Genoese galleys had thrown their grapnels and
made fast, one on each side of Pisani's galley. The bulwarks
were stove in and splintered as the vessels rolled, and the rigging
of the three ships became entangled. The Genoese sprang on
to the deck of Pisani's galley, with shouts of triumph, but they
were met by the admiral himself, wielding a mighty battle-axe,
and the survivors of his crew.

The combat was still raging when the Bonito sailed swiftly
up. Her sails were lowered as she came alongside, and she was
lashed to one of the galleys. But this manoeuvre was not per-
formed without loss. As she approached with the Venetian
flag flying at her masthead, the Genoese archers on the poop of
the galley, who had hitherto been pouring their missiles among
Pisani's men, turned round and opened fire upon this new foe.
Their arrows did far more execution here than they had done
among the armour-clad soldiers of the state. The captain fell

204

A HAND-TO-HAND COMBAT.

dead with an arrow which struck him full in the throat, and
ten or twelve of the sailors fell on the deck beside him.

" Pour in one volley," Francis shouted ; " then throw down
your bows, and take to your axes and follow me."

The instant the vessel was lashed Francis sprang on to the
deck of the galley. Matteo was by his side, Giuseppi just
behind, and the whole crew followed. Climbing first upon the
poop, they fell upon the archers, who, after a short struggle,
were cut down; then, descending again to the waist of the
galley, they leaped on to the deck of Pisani's ship, and fell upon
the rear of the Genoese. These were taken completely by sur-
prise. Absorbed in the struggle in which they were engaged,
they had noticed neither the approach of the BonitOy nor the
struggle on board their own galley, and supposed that another
of the Venetian war-ships had come up to the assistance of
their admiral.

Taken then by surprise, and finding themselves thus between
two bands of foes, they fought irresolutely, and the crew of
the Bonito, with their heavy axes, cut down numbers of them,
and fighting their way through the mass, joined the diminished
force of Pisani.

The admiral shouted the battle-cry of "St. Mark!" his fol-
lowers, who had begun to give way to despair, rallied at the
arrival of this unlooked-for reinforcement, and the whole fell
upon the Genoese with fury.

The latter fought stoutly and steadily now, animated by the
voice and example of Fieschi himself; but their assurance of
victory was gone, and they were gradually beaten back to the
deck of their admiral's ship. Here they made desperate efforts
to cut the lashings and free the vessel; but the yards had got
interlocked and the rigging entangled, and the Venetians sprang
on to the deck of the ship, and renewed the conflict there.
For some time the struggle was doubtful; the Genoese had

' )"

16 throat) «nd

e him.

I throw down

ing OQ to the
^iueeppi just
irst upon the
lort struggle,
waist of the
md fell upon
etely by sur-
ere engaged,
litOy nor the
hat another
ssistance of

lus between
he crew of
'8 of them,
diminished

I" his foi-
led at the
whole fell

ed by the
iurance of
ck to the
ite efforts
3 had got
as sprang
ct there.
}ese had

ViCTORt.

300

still the advantage in numbers, but they wore disheartened at
the success, \«.iich they had deemed certain, having been go
suddenly and unexpectedly snatched from their grasp.

The presence of Pisani in itself doubled the strength of the
Venetians. He was the most popular of their commanders,
and each strove to imitate the example which he set them.
After ten minutes* hard fighting the result was no longer
doubtful. Many of the Genoese ran below; others threw down
their arms ; and their admiral at last, seeing further resistance
was hopeless, lowered his sword and surrendered.

No sooner had resistance ceased than Pisani turned to
Francis, who had been fighting by his side:

" I thank you, in the name of myself and the republic," he
said. " Where you have sprung from, or how you came here,
I know not. You seemed to me to have fallen from heaven to
our assistance just at the moment when all was lost. Who
are you? I seem to know your face, though I cannot recall
where I have seen it."

" I am Francis Hammond, Messer Pisani. I had the honour
of seeing you at the house of my i)atron, Signer Polani, and
you were good enough to otter to take me with you to sea."

"Oh, I remember now!" Pisani said. "But how came you
here?"

"I came in the Bnitito, one of Polani's ships. She is
lying outside the farther of the Venetian galleys. We bring
from Venice some of the stores for which you sent. We were
lying off watching the battle, until we saw that you were
sore beset and in need of help, and could then no longer
remain inactive. Our captain was killed by an arrow as we
ranged up alongside of the galley, and I am now in command.
This is my friend, Matteo Giustiniani, a volunteer on board
ihe Boiiito."

"I remember you, Master Matteo," Pisani said, as he shook

Ir-

206
,^^°» by the hand, "j u,

you tightmg braveiv P.,* ^ account of von f^
^'ards. W« »« ^ «veiy. -out we will fnii,^ "' you, for

>"^ton to the 1S» ^ f ''• ''"'«'• to pieces Th ^'' "^ "«
riac !! T ^"'^y *'■»»«' over Th ,""" ^ ">« battle

tains of the galievs fn "' ^^^^^^^ a signal I T '''"

^^d he had afforded hi^ 1 ?i "'"^' ^^ ^^^« ^^pubhc T'
^«fc been for that aid ^ '' ^'^^ ^^^'^^'^aj momenT Jf.^"

»'iust have «n. l\ ^ acknowJed-ed th.th ^ ^^^^ ^^
"ave succumbed, and fh^ • . ^^ "e and his Pr«,„

ralJen to tha n^ ^ ^'^^ victorv wnnjj ^^^^

^ '^^eCrenoese. ^ ^^"^a assuredJjr have

PISANI'S OFFBR.

207

your father's
'* of you, for
of this after-
alleys, or we
fien we must

'^. and the
^d free the

the re-
3d Genoese
the battle.
9 Venetian

the other
'heir ships

the other
own their

'ght hun-
captured.
Anzo.
it was
prizes,

3d went
)wn for
le cap-
ncehe
or the

ad it

crew

have

After the meeting was over he took Francis into his cabin,
and again offered him a post in his own ship.

" Were your merit properly rewarded," he said, " I would
appoint you at once to the commend of a galley; but to do so
would do you no service, for it would excite against you the
jealousy of all the young nobles in the fleet. Besides, you are
so young, that although the council at home cannot but acknow-
ledge the vastness of the service you have rendered, they might
make your age an excuse for refusing to confirm the appoint-
ment; but if you like to come as my third officer, I can promise
you that you shall have rapid promotion, and speedily be in
command of a galley. We Venetians have no prejudice against
foreigners. They hold very high commands, and, indeed, our
armies in the field are frequently commanded by foreign
captains."

Francis thanked the admiral heartily for his offer, but said
that his father's wishes and his own led him to adopt the life
of a merchant, and that, under the patronage of Messer Polani,
his prospects were so good that he would not exchange them
even for a command under the state of Venice."

" You are quite right, lad," the admiral said. " All govern-
ments are ungrateful, and republics most of all. Where all are
supposed to be equal, there is ever envy and jealousy against
one who rises above the rest. The multitude is fickle and easily
led; and the first change of fortune, however slight, is seized
upon by enemies as a cause of complaint, and the popular hero
of to-day may be an exile to-morrow. Like enough I shall see
the inside of a Venetian prison some day."

"Impossible, signor!" Francis exclaimed; "the people would
tear to pieces anyone who ventured to malign you."

" Just at present, my lad ; just at present. But I know my
countrymen. They are not as light-hearted and fickle as those
of Genoa; but they.are easily led, and will shout 'A basso!' as

' 1

I '

1 1

I !

206^

ll'll

■Jin

*'■ '

*HE wmmN.

Wng defeated t<.dayanr" ''""'• ^ ''^ ^■«'« » «, of
come to my rescue nlnZl''\y °°' •"• «'°^« »' '-'d ^
■ "To-morrow moving Twill t r" *° '"^'""^
fores, and distribute them as T /''''" '° S^' ""t Jonr
hundred prisoners in yo^ho d »T ' *'"' '"'" P'"" fo"
Venice with my despatfheTato^; ^ T '''*'' "■^'■J' «>em to
four hundred Genoese rshalTsend /"".^ '''"'^- ^ie other
""•'ted yesterday to Candia .o ^ " * ®*^ '•"*' ^'^ <«»- "
^end Pme crews home i" the lltZT"'^ "-^^^ ^ «M
soon as they are refitted and mrnnTd . ' ""P'"^''' »<» »
■n search of Doria and his S "^f ™h nT" ""•' ^ ^■■=»" ""^
Adnafc, in ease he may ha^e ' J ' ''^ «™-« "p the
Venice, and I can the more eZLT ■ *' "*^ '» ''"■eaten
-may have been prepared foTml """" ''"'' -»for.ement,

went down to Jli: X ZS' t '' ^» ^'s"' «-g»or Polani
fallen in with the fleet, for there ' '""''"''° "*«''•« «he had
- no news had been r^ iSrl^r • T™'^ " ^-"^
days. The vessel had just nZd^r ?"' ^°'" °»''« *» tea
the islands when thegoCoS T""^^ *' '"'^"""^ between
»g. Francis went I the X.Jrr"' T- "^"PP™-''-
, Why, what has hapnenLT ^ "*"'* '"'»•
"oat neared the side Tthe 1^"" ^o'^' ->^ed, as the
™d away, and the whole side of the ,? ^"^ "'"''""'' " «"-
She looks as if she had been rl, '' " ""^P'^ »»<» 'cored

" Not quite so bad a7^h Tt'"^ "S"'"^' » «*•"
^nd-ng gainst a alrSw ^^ ^<>'- She has h^en

Against a Genoese eallev I" L i

go'ieyi the merchant repeated in TO^

1 an ace of
at hand to

JS.

jt out your
place four
ry them to
The other
it was dis-
e. I shall
ed; and as
I shall sail
ise up the
) threaten
'orcements

sel. This
then put
and the

)r Polani
3 she had
1 Venice,
than ten
between
proach-

as the

is car-

I scored.

b'^en

"THIS IS INDEED GREAT NEWS.**

209

prise, stopping in his passage up the rope-ladder, which had boen
lowered for him. " Why, how is that? But never mind that
now; first tell me what is the news from the fleet?"

" There is great news," Francis replied. " The admiral fell in
with Fieschi off Antium. There were nine ships on each side,
and the battle took place in a storm. We were victorious, and
captured four of the Genoese galleys, with Fieschi himself and
eight hundred prisoners; the rest fled. Fieschi is now in my
cabin and four hundred prisoners in the hold."

" This is indeed great news," the merchant said, " and will
be an immense relief to Venice. We were getting very anxious,
for had Pisani been defeated there was nothing to prevent the
Genoese ravaging our coasts, and even assailing Venice itself.
But where is the captain?"

"I regret to say, sir, that he has been killed, as well as
twenty-seven of the sailors, and many of the others are more
or less severely wounded. I am the bearer of despatches from
the admiral to the council."

" Then get into my gondola and come along at once," Polani
said. "I deeply regret the death of the captain and sailors;
you shall tell me all about it as we come along; we must not
delay a moment in carrying this great news ashore. Have you
got the despatches?"

" Yes, signor. I put them into my doublet when I saw you
approaching, thinking that you would probably wish me to
take them on shore at once."

" And now tell me all about the battle," the merchant said
as soon as they had taken their seats in the gondola. " You
say there were nine ships on either side. Pisani sailed away
with fourteen; has he lost the remainder?"

"They came up next day," Francis replied. "The fleet was
in a port north of Antium when the news came that Fieschi's
fleet was there. Five of the galleys had been dismantled and

(463)

ilk i)

\i'i

\h-

!■

310

THE STOBT OF THE FIGHT.

weigh anchor and elcIneTf I 7T **"' ''«' ^'o^hi miZ

*at the Genoese h7il*:£'rfH 7'°"^ ««'--<<
h-mself this number read/fo^l f ?' '"^ "^ "•« ^ad
weather was stormy and th„ ** ""'"<' »' ""ee. The

within sight of S FiesThr','?' "''«" "« Reared
h"- The battle lasted all 2 „t ^"'"'^ -' '<> -eet
to board; but in the end Ll''% T "'^' *« '"P^^^'^'e
""dered and the rest fled T l' '"" <^^'"«>^« g»"ey3 sur-

seemed at ever^ moment r^f the Z ' ^'^i""' ^«'"; ^^ ''

""ending to sail well out to a Ld 1 '"T"^ ^^ '"" »"»-
we,« not likely in such weather to n . *"? '^' ^''"'"^'' ^^o
Passmg in the distance; but ^ L /^' T '» 'i»«'^«on a sail
P-ani's fleet approaching noras^t f '™"' '""^ ^' ^'^
^aw that the battle was Tmminent l! *""' '° '"' »'' '^^

do but to lie to and wait 7or h e ba tTe r.'""'""^ '"^ "^ '»

but thought "aLtuthXel *' r"""'"'"^ o' t'>'"^ «gnor
would be too b„sV wi?h tSXtr '^" " *'"^'''>°'

-PPMtopur.eus,andwe^reXrSrr::t::

1»'«g--^

^hem to be
schi might
He learned
as he had
)nce. The
B appeared
it to meet
impossiDle
;alleys sur-
jht; for it
the vessels
its; but in

Had you

ing before
jrefore we
" put out,
oese, who
ion a sail
we saw
and we
or us to
efore we
'^ould be

erchant
ably be

signor,

they

lot too

feather

"THAT WAS WELL DONB INDEED."

211

the Bonito would be able to sail quite as fast as any of the
Genoesa" .

"And now tell me about your affairs, Francisco. Where
was it you fell in with the Genoese galley, and by what miracle
did you get off?"

" It was in the battle, sir. One of the Venetian galleys had
dropped out of the fight disabled, and its opponent went to the
assistance of their admiral's ship, which was engaged with
Pisani. They attempted to board him on both sides, and, seeing
th$tt he was in great peril, and that if his ship was taken the
battle would be as bad as lost, we thought that you yourself
would approve of our going to his assistance. This we did, and
engaged one of their galleys; and, as her crew were occupied
with the admiral, we took them by surprise, and created such
a diversion that he succeeded, with what assistance we could
give him, in capturing both his opponents."

" That was well done indeed," Polani said warmlv. " It was
a risky matter indeed for you, with sailors unprotected by
armour, to enter into a combat with the iron-clad soldiers of
Genoa. And so the captain and twenty-seven of the men were
killed! You must have had some brisk fighting!"

" The captain and many of the men were shot by the Genoese
archers as we ranged up alongside their vessel; the others were
killed in hand-to-hand fighting."

"And my cousin Matteo, what has become of himi" Polani
asked suddenly. "I trust he is not among the killed!"

" He is unharmed," Francis replied. " He fought gallantly,
and the admiral the next day offered to take him on board his
own ship, many of the volunteers serving on board having been
killed. Matteo of course accepted the offer."

" He would have done better to have stayed on board my
ship for another two years," Polani said, "and learned his busi-
nesa He would have made a far better sailor than he can

^ I''

T K

21S

SFBKADINO THE NKW81

\^i

i«

ever become on board a state galley ; but I never expected him
to stick to it. He has no earnestness of purpose,. and is too
particular about his dress to care about the rough life of a real
seaman."

" He has plenty of courage, sir, and I have always found him
a staunch friend." . ,

- " No doubt he has courage," the merchant said. " He comes
of good blood and could hardly be a coward. I think he is a
good-hearted lad too, and will, I have no doubt, make a brave
commander of a galley ; but more than that Matteo is never
likely to become."

"Your daughters are well, I hope?" Francis asked.

"Quite well; but you will not find them at home — they
sailed three days ago in the Lido for Corfu. They are going
to stay for a time at my villa there. That affair of last year
shook them both, and I thought it better that they should go
away for a change — the hot months here are trying, and often
unhealthy. I will go over myself next week to be with them."

They were now approaching the Piazzetta, and Polani shouted
out to various acquaintances he met in passing gondolas the
news that Pisani had gained a great victory, and had captured
the Genoese admiral with four of his galleys. The gondolas at
once changed their course, and accompanied them to gather
further details of the fight. The news was shouted to other
passing boats, and by the time they reached the steps of the
Piazzetta a throng was round them. Those on shore shouted
out the news, and it spread rapidly from mouth to mouth; the
shopkeepers left their stores and the loungers on the Piazzetta
ran up, and it was with difficulty that Polani and Francis could
make their way through the shouting and excited crowd to
the entrance of the ducal palace.

Polani at once led Francis to the doge, to whom he gave an
account of the action. Messengers were immediately despatched

:«^ i

.imwiliir I «».~.

)ected him
md is too
e of a real

found him

He comes
tik he is a
:e a brave
> is never

me — they
ire going
last year
hould go
-nd often
h them."
shouted
olas the
aptured
dolas at
gather
'0 other
of the
ihouted
ihj the
jazzetta
could
wd to

ive an
itched

BEFORE THE COUNCIL.

213

to some of the members of the council, for it was to them that
the despatches had to be delivered. As soon as a sufficient
number to transact the business had arrived at the palace the
doge himself led Francis to the council chamber.

" Is the news that we heard shouted in the streets as we
came thither true, your highness?" one of the councillors asked
as they entered, " that our fleet has gained a victory over the
Genoese?"

"I am happy to say that it is quite true; but this young
gentleman is the bearer of despatches from the admiral, and
these will doubtless give us all particulars."

"Admiral Pisani has chosen a strange messenger for so
important a despatch," one of the party hostile to the admiral
said. " It is usual to send despatches of this kind by a trusted
officer, and I do not think it respectful either to the council or
the republic to send home the news of a victory by a lad like
this."

"The admiral apparently chose this young gentleman because,
owing to the death of his captain, he was in command of the
ship which Messer Polani placed at the service of the republic,
and which was present at the fight. The admiral intended, as
I hear, to set out at once in search of the fleet of Doria, and
doubtless did not wish to weaken himself by despatching a
state galley with the news; but perhaps he may explain the
matter in his despatches."

Several other councillors had by this time arrived, and the
despatches were opened. The admiral's account of the engage-
ment was brief, for he was fonder of the sword than the pen.
He stated that having obtained news that Fieschi's fleet was at
anchor under the promontory of Antium he sailed thither with
nine ships, these being all that were at the moment fit to take
to sea; that Fieschi had sailed out to meet him, and that an
engagement had taken place in the storm, which prevented the

THE DESPATCHBS.

Ni:t';i

H 4 ■< "

i^'^:

ships from pursuing their usual tactics and compelled them to
fight with missiles at a distance. Tlie despatch then went on :

" We fought all day, and the upshot of it was we captured
four of their galleys, the admiral himself, and eight hundred
prisoners. Fortunately it is unnecessary for me to give your
seignory the details of the fighting, as these can be furnished
you by Messer Francisco Hammond, who will hand you these
despatches. He was a witness of the action on the BonitOf
which had that morning arrived at Antium with some of the
stores you despatched me. I have selected this young gentle-
man as the bearer of these despatches because it is to him I
entirely owe it that I am not at the present moment a prisoner
in Genoa, and to him the republic owes that we yesterday won
a victory. -

" I was attacked by Fieschi and by another galley, and in
spite of the weather they cast grapnels on to my ship and
boarded me. I had already lost half of my crew by their
missiles, and things were going very badly with us, when the
Bonito came up to our assistance and grappled with one of the
galleys. Her captain was killed, but Messer Hammond —
of whom Polani has so high an opinion that he had ap-
pointed him second in command — led his men to my rescue.
They boarded the galley and slew those who remained on
board, and then, crossing on to my ship, fell upon the rear of
the Genoese who were pressing us backwards. His sailors,
undefended as they were by armour, fought like demons with
their axes, and, led by Messer Hammond, cut their way through
the enemy and joined me.

"This reinforcement gave fresh strength and spirit to my men,
who had a minute before thought that all was lost. Together
we fell upon the Genoese before they could recover from their
surprise, beat them back into their admiral's ship, and following
them there forced them to surrender. McBser Hammond

THE doge's approval.

216

Bd them to
n went on :
'e captured
it hundred
give your
5 furnished
you these
ihe BonitOy
•me of the
ing gentle-
to him I
a prisoner
erday won

>y, and in

ship and

by their
when the
ne of the
imond —

had ap-
Y rescue.

ined on
rear of

sailors,

ns with

irough

ly men,
)gether
1 their
owing
imond

fought by my side, and although but a lad in years he showed
himself a sturdy man-at-arms, and behaved with a coolness and
bravery beyond praise. I licreby recommend him to your
gracious consideration, for assuredly to him it is due that it is
I, and not Fieschi, who is writing to announce a victory."

A murmur of surprise from the councillors greeted the read-
ing of this portion of the letter. When it was concluded the
doge was the first to speak.

"You have indeed deserved well of the republic, Messer
Hammond, for we know that Admiral Pisani is not one to
give undue praise or to exaggerate in aught. This is news to
me, signors, as well as to you, for in his narrative to me of the
events of the fight, he passed over his own share in it, though
Messer Polani, who accompanied him, did say that his ship
had taken some part in the fight, and that the captain and
twenty-seven men had been killed. Now, young sir, as the
admiral has referred us to you for a detailed narrative of the
battle, we will thank you to tell us all you witnessed, omitting
no detail of the occurrences."

Francis accordingly gave a full account of the action, and
gave great praise to his crew for the valour with which they
had fought against the heavy-armed Genoese. When he had
concluded the doge said :

" We thank you for your narrative, Messer Hammond, as
well as for the great service you have rendered the state.
Will you now leave us, as we have much to debate on regard-
ing this and other matters, and to arrange for the reinforce-
ments for which I see by his letter the admiral asks. Will
you ask Messer Polani to remain in attendance for a while, as
we wish to consult with him as to ships and other matters? As
to yourself, we shall ask you to come before us again shortly."

After Francis had left, the council first voted that five
ducats should be given to every man of the crew of the Bonito^

216

REWARDS FOR MERIT.

■> ■'

fl\V,

and that the widows of those who had been slain should be
provided for at the expense of the state. They deferred the
question as to the honours which should be conferred upon
Francis until they had consulted PolanL State barges were at
once sent off to bnng in the prisoners from the ship, and prepara-
tions made for their accommodation, for Venice always treated
prisoners taken in war with the greatest kindness, an example
which Genoa was very far from following. Then Polani was sent
for, and the question of stores and ships gone into. Orders
were issued for redoubled activity in the arsenal, and it was
arranged that several ships belonging to Polani and others
should be at once purchased for the service of the state. Then
they asked him for his opinion as to the reward which should
be given to Francis. Upon the merchant expressing his igno-
rance of any special service his young friend had rendered, the
passage from Pisani's letter relating to him was read out.

" The lad is as modest as he is brave," the merchant said,
"for although of course he told me that the ship had taken
some part in the fight, and had done what it could to assist the
admiral, in which service the captain and twenty-seven men
had lost uheir lives, I had no idea of the real nature of the
encounter. I feel very proud of the service he has rendered
the state, for he has rendered me as a private individual
no less important service, and I regard him as my adopted son
and my future partner in my business. Such being the case,
signers, he needs no gift of money from the state."

" He has not, of course, being still a minor, taken up his
papers of naturalization as a citizen f the doge said.

" No, your highness, nor is it his intention to do so. I spoke
to him on the subject once, and he said that although he
regarded Venice with affection, and would at all times do every-
thing in his power for the state, he could not renounce his
birthplace, as an Englishman, by taking an oath of allegiance

-/ \

' i'

ilain should be
y deferred the
onferred upon
barges were at
p, and prepara-
ilways treated
s, an example
'olani was sent
into. Orders
1, and it was
i and others
state. Then
which should
3ing his igno-
[•endered, the
ad out.
erchant said,
P had taken
to assist the •
^^-seven men
ature of the
as rendered
9 individual
adopted son
»g the case,

ken up his

>• I spoke
'though he
3 do every-
tiounce his
allegiance

AN EXCEPTIONAL HONOUR.

217

to another state, and that probably he should after a time
return to his native country. I pointed out to him tiiat altliough
foreigners were given every facility for trade in Venice it would
be a grievous disadvantage to him in the islands, and especially
with countries such as Egypt, the Turks, and the Eastern empire,
with whom we had treaties, as, unless he were a Venetian, he
would be unable to trade with them.

" He fully saw the force of my argument, but persisted in
his determination. If you ask my opinion, therefore, signers,
and you do not think the honour too great, I would suu'gest
that the highest and most acceptable honour that could be
bestowed upon him would be that which you have at various
times conferred upon foreign personages of distinction, namely,
to grant him the freedom of Venice, and inscribe his name
upon the list of her citizens, without requiring of him the
renunciation of his own country or the taking the oath of
allegiance."

"The honour is assuredly a great and exceptional one," the
doge said, "but so is the service that he has rendered. He has
converted what would have been a defeat into a victory, and
has saved Venice from a grave peril. Will you retire for a
few minutes, signor, and we will then announce to you the
result of our deliberations on the matter."

•*?^i*

[111

CHAPTER XIL

IN MOCENIGO S POWER.

{ -y

E^l

'i^

T was fully an hour before Polani was recalled to the
council chamber. He saw at once by the flushed
and anjGjry faces of some of the council that the
debate had been a hot one. At this he was not
surprised, for he knew tliat* the friends and connections of
Ruggiero Mocenigo would vehemently oppose the suggestion
he had made. The doge announced the decision.

"The council thank you for your suggestion, Signor Polani^
and have resolved by a majority to confer upon Messer
Francisco Hammond the high honour of placing his name upon
the list of the citizens of Venice without requiring from him the
oaths of allegiance to the state. As such an honour has never
before been conferred, save upon personages of the highest
rank, it will be a proof of the gratitude ^'-^uch Venice fe^ls
towards one who has done her such distinguished service.
The decree to that effect will be published to-morrow."

The merchant retired Mghly gratified. The honour was a
great and signal one, and the material advantages considerable.
The fact that Francis was a foreigner had been the sole obstacle
which had presented itself to him in associating him with his
business, for it would prevent Francis from trading personally
with any of the countries in which Venetian citizens enjoyed
special advantages. Francis was immensely gratified when he

ecalled to the
y the flushed
ncil that the
J he was not
•nnections of
e suggestion

?nor Polani,
tion Messer

name upon
om him the 4
r has never
he highest

enice feels
ed service.

our was a
isiderable.

e obstacle
1 with his
personally
s enjoyed

when he

THE JOY OF VENICE.

219

heard from the merchant of the honour to be conferred upon
him; it was of all others the reward he would have selected had
a free choice been given him, but it was so gi'cat and unusual
an honour that he could indeed scarcely credit it when the
merchant told him the result of his interviews with the council

Tlie difficulty which his being a foreigner would throw in
the way of his career as a merchant in Eastern waters had been
frequently in his mind, and would, he foresaw, greatly lessen
his usefulness, but that he should be able to obtain naturaliza-
tion wiLhout renouncing his allegiance to England he had never
even hoped.

" It is a very high honour, doubtless," Polani said, " but no
whit higher than you deserve ; besides, after all it costs Venice
nothing, and money is scarce at present. At any rate I can
congratulate myself as well as you, for I foresaw many difficul-
ties in our way. Although the ships carrying the Venetian flag
could enter the ports of all countries trading with us, you would
personally be liable to arrest at any time on being denounced
as not being a native of Venice, which you assuredly would be
by my rivals in trade."

The next day a bulletin was published, giving the substance of
Pisani's despatch, and announcing that in token of the gratitude
of the republic for the great service he had rendered, Messer
Hammond would be at once granted the freedom of Venice,
and his name inserted on the list of her citizens.

During these two days the delight of Venice at the news of
the victory had been extreme. The houses had been decorated
with flags, and the bells of all the churches had peeled out joy-
ously. Crowds assembled round the Polani Palace, and insisted
upon Francis making his appearance, when they greeted him
with tremendous shouts of applause. Upon the evening of
the second day he said to Polani :

" Have you any ship fit for sea, signor, because if so I pray

/ -

220

"' ""^ ««*«"« A nsamo-BOAT.'

h I

S'-n- the decree wLVuM.^he h ""'^ ■' ""■"" ''»<> *»
-""■"enfa peace, and itV „„ attd T'"r^ ' ''''^^ ■">' had ^
»ny s,„„ „„ ^^^^^ >o absurd when I did no more than

"a heartily ,or:y I ever int?;fer"d n L" 1? V"""'" ^^'^ -o"
The merchant smiled "'"'" "' 'h* admiral"

pened." '"»« something fresh will have W

"I can send von nff ,v

thing to-morroJmorning''°i am? ""V'' ^™<'«». the fi„t

» message to my agenfin C^rff ^*?'""« * ^"'»" «>^t ^"h

daughters; they wi! be delSd T "'"' '*'"^- '» »'

ha be ,^ to k„„, that ;„=te JTth'tt ^""' ""' ''«'«^<' '

"P several affai.« which I have ThZ} T' """' ^ «»•> 'vind

r:£g^-^----he:;ca-£-;^eu

heat, except that she ZlZlZ'^'l """ "^ » eP»
hemg formed aft for the cal ! T"" '"'^' » ™»J1 eabm
™f t be on board, while th'^T; T Tr^-ge™ the^
I'ttle forecastle. "^*'' stowed themselves in the

When the boat was half „
i-a and the captain recognSlr " ""^ ""^ ^^«" W^ach-

"In that case," PrancfsaM < w^ "'"' "' ''»''"■■'» '"''els.

— topasathemwith^a^Sa^lcr^r;:

>AT."

annot stand this.
I have not had a
[id no more than
should very soon
the admiral"

to the reception
ozen requests of
next."

will charter a
for a fortnight;
^11 have hap-

icisco, the first
Mall craft with
5tters for my
and indeed I
itil I can wind
them myself,
id-forty hours

he next mor-

sail or row.
fteen sweeps
vas an open
small cabin
"gers there
ives in the

1 approach-
's vessels,
direct our
Vhen you

A MYSTERIOUS VESSEL.

221

approach them hoist the Polani flag, and signal to them to
lay to."

This was done, and the two cr.-'ft brou^lit up within thirty
yards of each other. The captain appeared at the side of the
vessel, and doffed his cap when he recognized Francis.

" Have you any news from the Eastl" the latter asked.

" But little, signor. A few Genoese pirates are among the
islands, and are reported to have made some captures, but
I have seen none. There is nothing new from Constantinople;
no fresh attempt has been made by the emperoi to recapture
Tenedos."

" Did you touch at Corfu on your way back 1"

"I left there yesterday, signor. A strange craft has been
reported as having been seen on the coast. She carries no flag,
but from her appearance she is judged to be a Moor."

" But we are at peace with the Moors," Francis said, *' and
it is years since they ventured on any depredations excepting
on their own waters." -

" That is so, signor, and I only tell yor. what was the report
at Corfu. She appeared to be a swif', craft, rowing a great
many oars. Her movements certainly seem mysterious, as she
has several times appeared off the coast. Two vessels which
sailed from Cyprus, and were to have touched at Corfu, hpd
not arrived there when I left, and they say that several others
are overdue. I do not say that has anything to do with the
strange galley, but it is the general opinion in Corfu that it has
something to do with it, and I am the bearer of letters from the
governor to the seignory, praying that two or three war ships
may at once be sent down to the island."

"It looks strange, certainly," Francis ,aid; "but I cannot
believe that any Moorish pirates would be so daring as to come
up into Venetian waters."

" I should not have thought so either, signor; but it may be

i \

-^--s.'

222

;t;l

hv-

iiit

9 1>r»w 1

">« Stats gaJwV"^*'- '>e6«'eeB V •

• "^'"'•"'e.^o^drf ."''''^^-^yt;?"'^^^ P'-'-^'e than
^O'y many ' ' '" ''««^'>e ve.4 wh '^ '^'^'^ "^'ered t? ■

"»«" a c^fr " ''»'•<"}' lihelv : "'* »''" give 7. ''*

of ti.t ""J"*'" said ?,?"'<' ^"'ch m„„e, ,

THE PIRATE.

223

^enoa, and that
'eing scattered
inking onjy of
•d opportunity

'^'' "but thejr
reclcon with

°'' any losses

^^ not detain
"let us, and

reach Corfu

3 captain of
tlieir oars
-^- on the

te than a
Bred their
em. It IS

i enough
ever, we

we see
' a wide

'ith so
|uW be

the

[thing j

fainst !

, I

pum-

fhat
on

the water, he hurried out from the little cabin. Day had just
broken, the sky was aglow with ruddy light in the east.

"LocV there, signer!" the captain said, pointing to the south.
"The watch made them out a quarter of an hour since, but,
thinking nothing of it, they did not call me. What do you
think of that?"

Two vessels were lying in close proximity to each other at a
distance of about two miles from tlie boat. One of them was a
large trader, the other was a long galley rigged quite differently
to those of either Venice or Genoa,

" That is the craft they were speaking of," the captain said.
' There is no mistaking her. She may be an Egyptian or a
Moor, but certainly she comes from the African coast."

" Or is got up in African fashion," Francis said. " She may
be, as we agreed yesterday, a Genoese masquerading in that
fashion in order to be able to approach our traders without
their suspicions being aroused. She looks as if she has made
a captive of that vessel. I imaj^ine she must have come up to
her late yesterday evening, and has been at work all night
stripping her. I hope she is too busy to attend to us."

Tho sail had been lowered the instant the captain caught
sight of the vessels, for there was scarcely enough wind to fill
it, and the men were now rowing steadily.

" I do not think she could have taken much of her carg(\
out; she is very deep in the water."

"Very deep," Francis agreed. "She seems to me to be
deeper than she did three minutes ago."

" She is a great deal deei)er than when we first caught sight
of her," one of the sailors said. "She stood much higher in
the water than the galley did, and now, if an} thing, the galley
stands highest."

"Seel" the captain ex'Iaimed suddenly, "the galley is row
ing her oars on the port bow and bringing her head round.

■-■¥

22i

f I >

III

OHASEU

She has noticed ua an/l ;« •

q«est,c,n between death and s fverv / ^^ T"^^' ■" *» » «

A sudden exclamation from one of T" "°"'^"
'am to glance round again a^th. n "'" """''^ ">" «ap-
on _the water-the tradt: W /^f '^^ '"« ~^ ^»- --

■ ^^i cr: ::tt:.^'"' "^"'" ''•<' »p'ai„ .«, ..an hands

-at-- The galley wal now roJi^t : , 7"'' '*'' "''""S'' '^e
™'t For a quarter of an hourTot i 7*'' "'"' » '«" P""
n>an on board was d„i„. his utl«f I "^ ""^ ^P""^^"- «ver.
wards several time, and at the end of""" '"' ^""'-'^ ""*
could see that the distance be Ce„ th! TT f "" ''»" ''o
had distinctly lessened. ^* •"*' "'•^ her pursuer

^he IS gaining " Fnnnic • i . *= *^® oarsmen,

steadily, m'y lad? anrdtt dr'"' "t""«" ^Pi^'y. Eow
^'owly they gain they mty ^ e tpThe h '" "'^^ "■"* "ow
'vorth the trouble. ^ P ""^ "''ase and think us not

bo;tT who'r^/Va: :l""" r"" ^- --"S - the
«0". "do you lay in your oaf a'7 '^'T'^" '"" 'h« «-«-
place." ^ w «ar and come aft I will take your

quarter o^rmikatay"" ""' ^*^ ''"^ '■«'« "'ore than a

"We had better stnn » *i,
o'.,f «i„g away. ITL ,1^:',^^ .7' ''^ "° «"-

^-"—uld. TC.^:::S^--redone.

ftUGOIERO MOCENTGO.

225

^e have seen too
;rtake us it is a
Moors."
caused the cap-
was alone now

aid, "all hands

d beneath the
st through the
md in full pur-
spoken, every
I glanced back-
of an hour he
id her pursuer

r the cabin in
smen.

fapidly. Row

hey find how

think us not

>wing in the
>ni the exer-
1 take your

lore than a

e no chance
urious they

'^e done all

The oars fell motionless in the water, and a few minutes
later the long galley came rushing up by their side.

"A fine row you have given us, you dogs!" a man shouted
angrily as she came alongside. " If you haven't something on
board that will pay us for the chase we have had it will be the
worse for you. What boat is that?"

"It is the Naxos, and belongs to Messer Polani of Venice.
We are bound to Corfu, and bear letters from the padrone to
his agent there. We have no cargo on board."

"The letters perhaps may be worth more than any cargo
such a' boat would carry. So come on board and let us see
what the excellent Polani says to his agent. Now, make haste
all of you, or it will be the worse for you."

It was useless hesitating. The captain, Francis, and the crew
stepped on board the galley.

"Just look round her," the captain said to one of his sailors.
" If there is anything worth taking take it, and then knock a
hole in her bottom with your axe."

Francis, as he stepped on board the galley, looked round at
the crew. They were not Genoese, as he had expected, but a
mixture of ruffians from all the ports in the Mediterranean,
as he saw at once by their costumes. Some were Greeks from
the islands, some Smyrniots, Moors, and Spaniards; but the
Moors predominated, nearly half the crew belonging to that
race. Then he looked at the captain, who v/as eagerly perusing
the documents the captain had handed him. As his eye fell
upon him Francis started, for he recognized at once the man
whose designs he had twice thwarted, Ruggiero Mocenigo,
and felt that he was in deadly peril.

After reading the merchant's communication to his agent,
Ruggiero opened the letter addressed to Maria. He had read
but a few lines when he suddenly looked up, and then, with an
expression of savage pleasure in his face, stepped up to Francis.

(468) ^

■;;■ )

mv:

PiU

226 "YOtJ SHALL SUFFER A THOUSAND TORMENTS."

" So, Messer Hammond, the good Polani sends you to stay
for a while with his daughters ! Truly, when I sot out in chase
this morning of that wretched row-boat, I little deemed that
she carried a prize that I valued more than a loaded caravel!
It is to you I owe it that I am an exile instead of being the
honoured son-in-law of the wealthy Polani ; it was your ac-
cursed interference that brought all my mibfortunes upon me;
but thank Heaven my vengeance has come at last ! Take them
all below," he said, turning to his men. "Put the heaviest
irons you have got on this fellow, and fasten them with staples
into the deck. You thought I was going to hang you or throw
you overboard," he went on, turning to Francis. "Do not flatter
yours'felf that your death will be so easy a one — you shall suffer
a thousand torments before you die!"

Francis had not spoken a word since Euggiero first turned
to him, but hud stood with a tranquil and almost contemptu-
ous expression upon his face; but every nerve and muscle of
his body were strained and in readiness to spring into action.
He had expected that liuggiero would at once attack him, and
was determined to leap upon him and to sell his life as dearly
as possible.

The sailors seized Francis and his companions and thrust
them down into the hold, which was already crowded with
upwards of a hundred captives. He was chained with heavy
manacles. In obedience to Ruggiero's orders staples were
driven through the links of his chain deep into the deck, so
that he was forced to remain in a sitting or lying posture. The
captain of the Naxos came and sat beside him.

"Who is this pirate captain, Messer Francisco, who thus
knows and has an enmity against you? By his speech he is
surely a Venetian. And yet, how comes a Venetian in command
of a pirate?"

That man is Euggiero Mocenigo — the same who twice

((>

v.Vufi-'Urf.-S-v^,^

you to stay
out in chase
Jeemed that
^etl caravel!
I'eing tlie
IS your ac-
's upon me;
Take them
le heaviest
'3th staples
u or tJirow
not flatter
3liail sufl^er

[•St turned
ontemptu-
inuscJe of
to action,
^im, and
as dearly

fl thrust
led with
h heavy
3s were
ieck, so
e. The

io thus
^ he is
nmand

twice

11-!^

"TELL IT IN VENICE."

227

attempted to carry off Messer Polani's daughters. The second
time he succeeded, and would have been tried for the offence
by the state had he not, aided by a band of Paduans, escaped
from the keeping of his guard."

" Of course I heard of it, signor. I was away at sea at the
time, but i h^sard how you came up at the moment when
the padrone's gondoliers had been overcome, and rescued his
daughters. And this is that villain Mocenigo, a disgrace to his
name and family 1"

*' Remember the name, captain, and tell it to each of your
men, so that if they ever escape from this slavery into which,
no doubt, he intends to sell you, they may tell it in Venice that
Ruggiero Mocenigo is a pirate and an ally of the Moors. As
for me, there is, I think, but small chance of escape; but at any
rate, if you ever reach Venice you will be able to tell the
padrone how it was that we never arrived at Corfu, and how I
fell into the hands of his old enemy. Still, I do not despair
that I may carry the message myself; there is many a slip
between the cup and the lip, and Mocenigo may have cause yet
to regret that he did not make an end of me as soon as he got
me into his hands."

"It may be so," the captain said, "and indeed I cannot
think that so brave a young gentleman is destined to die miser-
ably at the hands of such a scoundrel as this man has shown
himself to be. As for death, did it come but speedily and
sharply, I would far sooner die than live a Moorish slave.
Santa Maria, how they will wonder at home when the days go
on and the Naxos does i lot return, and how at last they will
give up all hope, thinking that she has gone down in a sudden
squall, and never dreaming that we are sold as slaves to the
Moors by a countryman!"

"Keep up your heart, captain; be sure that when the war
with Genoa is over Venice will take the matter in hand. As you

228

"HE WILL DO HIS BEST."

!;,; . :,

I'! If.;

mi-

-Vi-

know, a vessel has already carriod tidings thither of the depre-
dation of a Moorish miser, and she will take vengeance on the
Moors, and may even force them to liberate the captives they
have taken; and besides, you may be sure, that the padrone,
when he hears of the Moorish galley, and finds we never
reached Corfu although the weather continued fine, will guess
tliat we have fallen into her hands, and will never rest
till he finds where we have been taken, and will ransom those
who survive at whatever price they may put upon them.*'

*' He will do his best, I know, he is a good master to serve;
but once a prisoner among the Moors, the hope of one's ever
being heard of again is slight. Sometimes, of course, men have
been ransomed; but most, as I have heard, can never be found
by their friends, however ready they may be to pay any ransom
that might be asked. It just <lepends whether they are sold
to a Moor living in a seaport or not; if they are, there would be
no great difficulty in hearing of them, but if they are sold into
the interior, no inquiries are ever likely to discover them."

" You must hope for the best," Francis said. "Chances of
escape may occur, and I have heard that Christian captives who
have been released, say that the Moors are for the most part
kind masters." ..

"I have heard so, too," the captain said; "and anyhow, I
would rather bo a Moorish slave than lie in a Genoese dungeon.
The Genoese are not like us. When we take prisoners we treat
them fairly and honourably, while they treat their prisoners
worse than dogs. I wish I could do something for you, Messer
Francisco; your case is a deal worse than ours. Listen, they
are quarrelling up on deck!"

There was indeed a sound of men in hot dispute, a trampling
of feet, a clash of steel, and the sound of bodies falling.

" It is not possible that one of our cruisers can have come
up and is boarding the pirate," the captain said, '^for no sail was

UTTERLY DISPIRITED.

229

in sight when we were brought here ; I looker! round the last
thing before I left the deck. What can they be fighting
about?"

" Likely enough as to their course. They have probably, from
what we heard, taken and sunk several ships, and some may
be in favour of returning to dispose of their booty, while others
may be for cruising longer. I only hope that scoundrel liuggiero
is among those we hoard fall. They are quiet now, and one
party or the other has evidently got the best of it. There,
they are taking to the oars again."

Several days passed; sometimes the oars were heard going,
but generally the galley was under sail. The milors brought
down food and water morning and evening, but paid no other
attention to the captives. Francis discussed with some of the
other prisoners the chances of making a sudden rush on to the
deck and overpowering the crew; but all their arms had been
taken from them, and the galley, they calculated, contained
fully a hundred and fifty men; they noticed too, when the
sailors brought down the food, a party armed and in readiness
were assembled round the hatchway.

At all other times the hatchway was nearly closed, being
only left sufficiently open to allow a certain amount of air to
pass down into the hold, and by the steady tramp of steps up
and down they knew that two sentries were also on guard
above. Most of the prisoners were so overcome with the mis-
fortune which had befallen them and the prospect of a life in
hopeless slavery, that they had no spirit to attempt any enter-
prise whatever, and there was nothing to do but to wait the
termination of the voyage.

At the end of six days there was a bustle on deck, and the
chain of the anchor was heard to run out. Two or three hours
afterwards the hatchway was taken off". When the rest had
ascended, two men came below with hammers, and drew the

J-

230

A PRISONER IN GHAINa

'Vf' f

in- '

Staples which fastened Francis to the deck. On going up he
was at first so blinded with the glare of the sunshine — after six
days iu almost total darkness — that he could scarce see where
he was.

The ship was lying at anchor in a bay; the shores were
low, and a group of houses stood abreast of where the ship
was anchored. By their appearance Francis saw at once that
he was on the coast of Africa, or of some island near it. The
prisoners were ordered to descend into the boats which lay
alongside, some sailors taking their places with them. Rug-
giero was not at first to be seen, but just as Francis was pre-
paring to take his place in the boat he came out from the cabin.
One of his arms was in a sling and his head bandaged.

"Take special care of that [nisoner," he said to the men.
" Do not take ofll' his chains, and place a sentinel at the door
of the place of his confinement. I would rather lose my share
of all the spoil we have taken than he should escape me!"

The shackles had been removed from the rest of the captives,
and on landing they wore driven into some huts which stood
a little apart from the village.

Francis was thrust into a small chamber with five or six com-
panions. The next morning the other prisoners were called
out, and Francis was left alone by himself all day. On their
return in the evening they told him that all the prisoners
had been employed in assisting to get out the cargo with
which the vessel was crammed, and in carrying it to a large
storehouse in the village.

" They must have taken a rich booty indeed," said one of
the prisoners, who had already told Francis that he was the
captain of the vessel they had seen founder. "I could tell
pretty well what all the bales contain by the manner of pack-
ing, and I should say that there were the pick of the cargoes of
a dozen ships there. All of us here belong to three ships, except

SEPARATED.

231

going up he
ne — after six
ce see where

shores were
ere the ship
at ouce that
lear it. The
8 which lay
ihem. Rug-
cis was pre-
m the cabin.

the men.
at the door
56 my share
8 mel"
le

captives,
stood

hich

or six com-
i^ere called
On their
prisoners
argo with
to a large

id one of
B was the
could tell
' of pack-
sargoes of
)8, except

.■7

/ ,^

those taken with yon; but from the talk of the sailors, T heard
that they had already sent off two batches of captives by
another ship which was cruising in company of thoni. 1 also
learned that the quarrel which took phico just after you were
captured arose from the fact tiiat the captain wished a party
to land, to carry off two women from somewhere in the island of
Corfu; but the crew insisted on first returninj.; with the booty,
urging, that if surprised by a Venetian galley they might lose
all the result of their toil. This was the opinion of the majority,
although a few sided with the captain, being induced to do so
by the fact that ho offered to give up all his share of the booty
if they would do so.

" The captain lost his temper and drew his sword, but he and
his party were quickly overpowered. Ho has kept to his cabin
ever since, suffering, they i^iiy, more from rage than from his
wounds. However, it seems that as soon as we and the cargo
have been sold they are to start for Corfu to carry out the
enterprise. We are on an island not very far from Tunis, and
a fast rowing boat started early this morning to the mer-
chants with whom they deal, for it seems that a certain
amount of secrecy is observed, in order that if any complaints
are made by Venice, the Moorish authorities may* disclaim all
k^jowledge of the matter."

Two days later the prisoners captured were again led out,
their guards telling them that the merchants who had been
expected had arrived. Giuseppi, who had hitherto borne up
bravely, was in an agony of grief at being separated from
Francis. He threw himself upon the ground, wept, tore his
hair, and besought the guards to let him share his master's fate,
whatever that might be. He declared that he would kill him-
self were they separated; and the guards would have been
obliged to use force had not Francis begged Giuseppi not to
struggle against fate, but to go quietly, promising again and

. ~ ' ti

4a^l

If'**

m I i

I • 232

I ««"■•'' ".at. if he M ,;'"'"'' ^^°~^

""'dded n ?h ."'' "■*' ^t'oy were V? '"" """^ of the
''"'Si* o h7/,rT,°'""'' ^^ have l^r "".'"""^ "^ '^^^Pe I

, ?" - 1 :ft:?'<' -''--"^p -rt'"*' -■-'^-'C

*'•""•« four 1 o :,r''''«- The botS /^ ^^'^ »ove-

•na he thou-ht f,^ *^"""'- Prisoner aimnff , ^ "^"'8 ''e

';^°-"Mbettt\?''°-^-ett .t.ttr '"•'»•
»' danger, „„w 3„"?^'"«''^'r qm-et country reL!,f.°'.'''« g-A

"0 ;o cut throu<rh ,t. "^ only nos^Ii.u P** of free ng

be roquirej. ""^ ""^ "^o' or oha.^.T^d t T"' """' --"W
.i.'"''^'-^-«ea .truck b- " ""^ f'^' -"«

-''— de^tiyofallSt,:

^ould not rest
s ^ad yielded,
»ken state by
'^e hut, and
himself from

^eiy possible
^ars of the
'^ and em-
>f escape in
window the

feet six
to the left
ws he Was
'^^ move-
low came
tiding on
' he Was
news he
'd him,
'e girJs,
•orance
and of

A RUSE.

233

We to
had
%as
seing
ouJd
ould

po-

f-' 1

sition, for he had several times entered into conversation with
the captives. In addition to a long kr.ife he carried a small
stiletto in his girdle, and Francis thought that if he could
obtain this he might possibly rree himself. Accordingly, at
the hour when he expectefl his guard to enter Francis placed
himself at his window, with his face against the bars. When
he heard the guard come in, and, as usual, close the door behind
him, he turned round and said:

"Who is that damsel there 1 She is very beautiful, and she
passes here frequently. There she is, just going among those
trees."

The guard moved to the window and looked out

" Do 3'ou see her just going round that corner there 1 Ah 1
she is gone."

The guard was pressing his face against the bars to look in
the direction indicated, and Francis, who was already standing
on his left leg, with the right raised so as to give freedom to
the hand next to the man, had no difficulty in drawing the
stiletto from its sheath and slipping it into his trousers.

"You were just too late," he said, "but no doubt you often
see her."

" 1 don't see any beautiful damsels about in this wretched
place," the man replied. " I suppose she is the daughter of the
head man in the village. They say he has some good-looking
ones, but he takes pretty good care that they are not about
when we are here. I suppose she thought she wouldn't be
seen along that path. I will keep a good look-out for her in
future."

" Don't frighten her away," Francis said laughing; " she is
the one pleasant thing I have in the day to look at."

After some more talk the man retired, and Francis examined
his prize. It was a, thin blade of fine steel, and he at once liid
it in '^he earth which formed the floor of the hut An hour

P' (

il\ i

•f i

I I

234

"' «*''« MOPPED MV DAGGER"

1i-

kt«r h , DAGGER."

^ater he guard opened tJi« ^

Wt .hint ho. it In of" ""^""'«^<' 'ha mn replied

„ Jhen d,d you see it last,"

J>'ot since dinner time T 7, , •

P«,bly I .„,.g,, , ™- I kno. I had U then. I thon.ht

t-liamed as I am," Fran.,= m ^ '" P"soners."
^^«e .eapon in'4lS;!"'' "" ''a^.er would not be . i
■^^o, the man agreed «n ,

7''-i»'o:7ad'°lt7o:?*todoeventHa.» .!

--a^:rLr?fhf:V'-'^'~^^^^^^^^^

P^oner, .„d .anted to make d A'f ^"* ^'^''"'' » Z^"" ^ /
--Pe, it would be all Zun^ Zt f'' '"^^ -"'<'-
With one man alwav<? «f f i "°"S^' ^"t for a Jad J,lr«

;m a lion „„,t- wh^t :^ r- •>-/: :

g««« back and Th ^' '" '"""^ ^f'^' Jou ni ,,"' ^^'-g
kno.. •»! '^^ -. be three .eeLV'! r-;^:

se cue captam can reJy upon us." ^^ are chosen

(^as now dusk, f Jl \

his comrade
examined the

is asked,
man replied. *

I thought .
er is not the

iJd not be a.
you unless

that."

what the
^ it does

up as if
^eno as a
I'ouJd not
hke you f

arred so

to keep
going ;'

captain ('

'h, who /

•e

e other
chosen

TRYING THE RIVET.

235

" He can rely upon anyone," Philippo retorted, " who knows
that he will get his throat cut if he fails in his duty."

" Well, come along," the other said, " I don't want to be
staying here all night. Your dagger isn't here, that's certain,
and as I am off guard at present I want to be going."

As soon as he was left alone Francis unearthed the dagger,
feeling sure that no fresh visit would be made him that evening.
As he had hoped, his first attempt showed him that the
iron of the rivet was soft, and the keen dagger at once notched
ofif a small piece of the burred end. Again and again he tried,
and each time a small piece of metal flew off. After each
cut he examined the edge of the dagger, but it was well
tempered, and seemed entirely unaffected. He now felt certain
that with patience he should be able to cut off" the projecting
edges of the rivets and so be able to free his hands.

He therefore now examined the fastenings at the ankles.
There were more heavy, and on trying them the iron of the
rivet appeared to be much harder than that which kept
the manacles together. It was, however, now too dark to see
what he was doing, and concealing the dagger again he lay
down with a lighter heart than he had from the moment of his
capture. Even if he found that the lower fastenings of the
chain defied all his eff'orts-, he could cut the rivets at the wrists,
and so free one end of each chain, he could then tie the chains
round his legs, and their weight would not be sufficient to pre-
vent his walking.

'i it

<.4..x

THE PIRATES' RAID.

fS soon as it was dayJiffhfc n«^f

"P and at work, ffis Ln. ""'"^ ^^^^^ ^
' before were at on "^Pf "°»«nts of the evening
"cie at once confirro<«l tu ®

hours' work would en»w! i^" ^'"'®* <»^ four

but he could make no impreslunn .. *"• '° '^*' '"^ ^^t'.
After a few trials he gave mTlTy. , "'"'" *' •"'' «»««»•
>f ho continued he would bunuL^''/'^ ^°' ^^ ''^ '^^'d

For an hour he sat st II fl . '''S' "' ""e dagger.
tohin,. Iron CO rbe"nd^»^ ^

ha could not cut off thfbu^'^^ ™'"'-S/' ""»" ^'one, and «
Mght perhaps be able to w7ar it 1"'"! ^"^ "•" "^SS"' he
'tone. He at once turned tTtL 7". ""^ "''"'''''g ^t with a
"ot built of the unbai::' lyT^-^. "'^ <=f These were
the poorer class in Northern eI* t!u'!'^ ^"^ houses of
constructed either as a prion ^^l""" ""f ^"•'^■'^ been
room where some merchant kept vafu '''"''"'''^ "^ » ='™»g

It was therefore constltToftt^":''"

»eer,,ed to Francis that th s 1 . "^ ''"^ 'tone. It

-juoh-ty he sat down in the "^ ^^f^'^''^. »d to test i"

-ght before placed hi! 1 ^^0?;" f ' ^""'' "'"' '"e

•noxstened a portion of the^U then h ?."''"• ^''^^^ he

^-»d -bed for some tir^L^rrr,:?;^ his

(

Dg Francis was
of the evening
Three or four
ree his wrists,
at his ankles.
f he was afraid
agger,
idea occurred

stone, and if
Jie dagger he
|ing it with a

These were
[or houses of.
pdently been

as a strong

stone. It
to test its
|rd had the
First he
[link of his
last, to his

SLOW WORK.

237

satisfaction, a bright patch showed that the stone was capable
of wearing away iron. ' .

But in vain did he try to twist his legs so as to rub the rivet
against the wall, and he gave up the attempt as impossible.
It was clear then that he must have a bit of the stone to rub
with. He at once began to dig with the dagger in the earth at
the foot of the wall to see if he could find any such pieces.
For a long time he came across no chips, even of the smallest
size. As he worked he was most careful to stamp down the
earth which he had moved, scattering over it the sand, of which
there was an abundance in the corners of the room, to obli-
terate all traces of his work.

When breakfast time approached he ceased for a while, but
after the meal had been taken he recommenced the task.
He met with little success till he reached the door, but here he
was more fortunate. A short distance below the surface were
a number of pieces of stone of various sizes, which he had no
doubt had been cut from the blocks to allow for the fixing of
the lintel and door-post. He chose half a dozen pieces of the
handiest sizes, each having a flat surface. Then replacing the
earth carefully, he took one of the pieces in his hand, and
moistening it with water, set to work.

He made little progress. Still the stone did wear the iron,
and he felt sure that by perseverance he should succeed in
wearing off the burrs. All day he worked without intermission,
holding a rag wrapped round the stone to deaden the sound.
He worked till his fingers ached so that he could no longer
hold it, then rested for an hour or two, and resumed his
work. When his guard brought his dinner he asked him when
the galley was to sail again.

" It was to have gone to-day," the man said, " but the captain
has been laid up with fever. He has a leech from Tunis attend-
ing him, and, weak as he is, he is so bent on going, that he

*T^

! K

! t

r.',

l!*r

:. ii

ih!

*, !

■'~i''

238

AN INTERVIEW.

would have had himself carried on board the ship had not the
leech said that in tliat case he would not answer for his life, as
in the state his blood is in his wounds would assuredly mortify
did he not remain perfectly quiet. So he has agreed to delay
for three days."

Francis was unable to work with the stone at night, for
in the stillness the sound might be heard ; but for some hours
he hacked away with the dagger at the rivets on his manacles.
The next morning he was at work as soon as the chirrup of the
cicadae began, as these, he knew, would completely deaden any
sound he might make. By night-time the rivet ends on the
irons round his ankles were worn so thin that he felt sure that
another hour's work would bring them level wjth the iron, and
before he went to sleep the rivets on the wrist were in the
same condition.

He learned from his guard next morning that the captain was
better, that he was to be taken on board in the cool of the even-
ing, and that the vessel would start as soon as the breeze sprang
up in the morning. In the afternoon his two guards entered,
and bade liijn follow them. He was conducted to the principal
house in tne village, and into a room where Ruggiero Mocenigo
was lying on a couch.

" I have sent for you," Ruggiero said, " to tell you that I have
not forgotten you. My vengeance has been delayed from no
fault of mine, but it will be all the sweeter when it comes. I am
going to fetch Polani's daughters. I have heard that since you
thrust yourself between me and them you have been a familiar
in the house, that Polani treats you as a member of the family,
and that you are in high favour with his daughters. I have
kept myself informed of what happened in Venice, and I have
noted each of these things down in the account of what I owe
you. I am going to fetch Polani's daughters here, and to make
Maria my wife, and then I will show her how I treat those who

p had not the
for his life, as
iredly mortify
;reed to delay

at night, for
or some hours

his manacles,
chirrup of the
jly deaden any
t ends on the
J felt sure that
ti the iron, and
5t were in the

:he captain was
pol of the even-
breeze sprang
uards entered,
the principal
;iero Mocenigo

ou that I have

^ayed from no

comes. I am

[that since you

leen a familiar

of the family,

iters. I have

pe, and I have

)f what I owe

and to make

sat those who

v\^

i ,

TZI1___.

Wf0^. , -..• »' vr

▲ VILLAINOUS SCHEME.

239

cross my path. It will bo a lesson to her as well as for you.
You shall wish yourself dead a thousand times before death
comes to you."

" I always knew t lat you were a villain, Ruggiero Mocenigo,"
Francis said quietly, "although I hardly thought, that a man
who had once the honour of being a noble of Venice would
sink to become a pirate and renegade. You may carry Maria
Polani off, but you will never succeed through her in obtaining
a portion of her father's fortune, for I know that the first
moment her hands are free she will stab herself to the heart,
rather than remain in the power of such a wretch."

Ruggiero snatched up a dagger from a table by his couch as
Francis was speaking, but dropped it again.

" Fool," he said. " Am I not going to carry off the two girls,
and do you not see that it will tame Maria's spirit effectually
when she knows that if she lays hands on herself she will but
shift the honour of being my wife from herself to her sister?"

As the laugh of anticipated triumph rang in Francis's ears
the latter in his fury made a spring forward to throw himself
upon the villain, but he had forgotten his chains, and fell head-
long on to the floor.

" Guards," Ruggiero shouted, " take this fellow away, and I
charge you watch over him securely, and remember that your
lives shall answer for his escape."

" There is no need for threats, signor," Philippo said. i ou
can rely on our vigilance, though, as far as I see, if he had
but a child to watch him he would be safe in that cell of his,
fettered as he is."

Ruggiero waved his hand impatiently, and the two men with-
drew with their prisoner.

" If it were not that I have not touched my share of the booty
of our last trip," Philippo said as they left the house, " I would
not serve him another day. As it is, as soon as the galley re-

i i I ;!l

240

**THE CREW ARE ALL ON BOARD.'*

. , *t

turns anc^ we get our shares of the money and of tlie sum he
has promised if this expedition of his is successful, I will be off.
I have had enough of this. It is bad enough to be consorting
with Moors, without being abused and threatened as if one was
a dog."

As soon as he was alone again Francis set to ^ork, and by
the afternoon the ends of the four rivets were worn Jown level
with the iron, and it needed but a pressure to make the rings
spring open. Then he waited for the evening before freeing
himself, as by some chance he miglit again be visited, and even
if free before nightfall he could not leave the house.

Philippo was later than usual in bringing him his meal, and
Francis heard angry words passing between him and his com-
rade because he had not returned to relieve him sooner.

"Is everything ready for the start?" Francis asked the man
as he entered.

" Yes, the crew are all on board. The boat is to be on shore
for the captain at nine o'clock, and as there is a little breeze
blowing I expect they will get up sail and start at once."

After a few minutes' talk the man left, and Francis waited
until it became almost dark, then he inserted the dagger between
the irons at the point of junction. At the first wrench they
flew apart, and his left hand was free. A few minutes* more
work and the chains lay on the ground. Taking them up he
rattled them together loudly. In a minute he heard the guard
outside move and come to the door, then the key was inserted
in the lock and the door opened.

"What on earth are you doing now?" Philippo asked as he
entered.

Francis was standing close to the door, so that as his guard
entered he had his back to him, and before the question was
finished he sprang upon him, throwing him headlong to the
ground with the shock, and before the astonished man could

I tlie sum he
I will be off.
)e consorting
as if one was

^ork, and by

1 down level

ke the rings

ifore freeing

idf and even

is meal, and

nd his com-

oner.

:ed the man

be on shore
ittle breeze
)nce."

ncis waited
;er between
reneh they
autes' more
;hem up he
1 the guard
as inserted

sked as he

his guard
estion was
)ng to the
man could

:^-

I DO NOT WANT TO KILL YOU.'

241

<£

>
PQ

(A
M

8peak he was kneeling upon him, with the point of the dagger
at his throat.

" If you make a sound, or utter a cry," he exclaimed, " I will
drive this dagger into your throat."

Philippo could feel the point of the dagger against his skin,
and remained perfectly quiet.

** I do not want to kill you, Philippo. You have not been
harsh to me, and I would spare your life if I could. Hold your
hands back above your head and put your wrists together that
I may fasten them, then I will let you get up."

Philippo held up his hands as requested, and Francis bound
them tightly together with a strip of twisted cloth. He then
allowed him to rise.

"Now, Philippo, I must gag you, then I will fasten your
hands to a bar well above your head so that you can't get at
the rope with your teeth; I will leave you here till your comrade
comes in the morning."

"I would rather that you killed me at once, signor," the
man said. "Thomaso will be furious at your having made
your escape, for he will certainly come in for a share of the
fury of the captain. There are three or four of the crew
remaining behind, and no doubt they will keep me locked up
till the ship returns, and in that case the captain will be as good
as his word. You had better kill me at once."

"But what am I to do, Philippo 1 I must ensure my own
safety. If you will suggest any way by which I can do that,
I will."

" I would swear any oath you like, signor, that I will not
give the alarm. I will make straight across the island and get
hold of a boat there so as to be well away before your escape
is known in the morning."

" Well, look here, Philippo. I believe you are sincere, and
you shall take the oath you hold most sacred."

(463) Q

' i

242

I WILL XRUfcyT YOU ALTOGETHER.

"You can accompany me, signor, if you will. Keep my hands
tied till we are on the 0( her side of the island, and stab me if I
give the alarm." ,

" I will not do that, Philippo. I will trust you altogether;
but first take the oath you spoke of."

PhiJippo swore a terrible oath that he would abstain from
giving the alarm, and v^ould cross the island and make straight
for the mainland. Francis at once cut the bonds.

"You will lose your share of the plunder, Philippo, and
you will have to keep out of the way to avoid the captain's
rage; therefore I advise you, when you get to Tunis, to em-
bark in the first ship that sails. If you come to Venice, ask
for me, and I will make up to you for your loss of booty, and
put you in the way of leading an honest life again ; but before
going you must first change clothes with me. You can sell
mine at Tunis for enough to buy you a dozen suits like yours;
but you must divide with me what money you now have in
your possession, for I cannot start penniless."

"I thank you for your kindness," the man said; "you had
it in your power with a thrust of the dagger to make yourself
safe^ and you abstained; even were it not for my oath, I
should be a treacherous dog indeed were I to betray you. I
do not know what your plans are, signor, but I pray you to
follow my example and get away from this place before day-
light. The people here will all aid in the search for you, and
as the island is not large, you will assuredly be discovered.
It has for many years been a rendezvous of pirates, a place to
which they bring their booty to sell to the traders who come
over from the mainland."

" Thank you for your advice, Philippo, and be assured I
shall be off the isiand before daybreak, but I nave some work
to do first and fuunot therefore accompany you."

" May all the saints bless you. signor, and aid you to get

PHILIPPO'S OFFER.

243

safe away ! Assuredly if I live I will ere long present myself
to you at Venice — not for the money which you so generously
promised me, but that I may vith your aid earn an honest
living among Christians."

By this time the exchange of clothes was effected. The six
ducats in Philippo's purse — the result of a little private plun-
dering on one of the captured vessels — divided; and then they
left the prison room, and Philippo locked the door after them.

"Is there any chance of Thomaso returning speedily]"
Francis asked ; " because if so he might notice your absence,
and so give the alarm before the ship sets sail, in which case
we should have the -.iiole crew on our tracks."

" I do not think that he will. He will be likely to be drink-
ing in the wine-shop for an hour or two before he returns.
But I tell you what I will do, signor. I will resume my place
here on guard until he has returned. He will relieve me at
midnight, und in the darkness will not notice the change of
clothes. There will still be plenty of time for me to cross th«
island and get out of sight in the boat before the alarm is
given, which will not be until six o'clock, when I ought t«
relieve him again. As you say, if the alarm were to be given
before the vessel sails, they might start at once to cut us off
before we reach the mainland, for they would make sure that
we should try to escape in that direction."

" That will be the best plan, Philippo; and now good-bye."

Francis walked down to the shore. There were no boats
lying there of a size he could launch unaided, but presently he
heard the sound of oars, and a small fishing-boat rowed by two
men approached.

" Look here, lads," he said; " I want to be put on board the
ship. I ought to have been on board three hours ago, but
took too much wine, and lay down for an hour or two and
overslept myself. Do you think you can row quietly up along-

244

ON BOARD THB PIRATE.

side so that I can slip on board unnoticed ? If so I will give
you a ducat for your trouble."

"We can do that," the fishermen said; " we have just come
from the ship now, and have sold them our catch of to-day.
There were half-a-dozen other boats lying beside her bargain-
ing for their fish; besides they are taking on board firewood
and other stores that have been left till the last moment; so
jump in and we will soon get you there."

In a few minutes they approached the side of the ship.

" I see you have got half-a-dozen fish left in your boat now,"
Francis said.

" They are of no account," one of the men said; " they are
good enough for our eating, but not such as they buy on board
a ship where money is plentiful. You are heartily welcome to
them if you have a fancy for them."

"Thank you," Francis said; "I will take two or three of
them if you can spare them. I want to play a trick with a
comrade."

As the fishermen said, there were several boats lying near
the vessel, and the men were leaning over the sides bargaining
for fish. Handing the fishermen their promised reward, Fran-
cis sprang up the ladder «to the deck.

He was unnoticed, for other men had gone down into the
boats for fish. Mingling with the sailors he gradually made
his way to the hatchway leading into the hold, descended
the ladder, and stowed himself away among a quantity of
casks, some filled with wine and some with water, at the
farther end of the hold, and as he lay there devoutly thanked
God that his enterprise had been so far successful.

Men came down from time to time with lanterns to stow
away the lately-arrived store?, but none came near the place
where Francis was hidden. The time seemed long before he
heard the clank of the capstan, and knew the vessel was being

IN HIDING.

245

hove up to her anchors. Then after a while he heard the
creaking of cordage, and much trampling of feet on the deck
above, and knew tliat she was under way. Then he made
himself as comfortable i\s he could in his cramped position, and
went off to sleep.

When he woke in the morning the light was streaming
down the hatch, which was only closed in rough weather, as
it was necessary frequently to go down into it for water and
stores. Francis had brought the fish with him as a means of
subsistence during the voyage in case he should be unable to
obtain provisions, but for this there was no occasion, as there
was an abundance of fruit hanging from the beams, while
piles of bread were stowed in a partition at one end of the
hold. During the day, however, he did not venture to move,
and was heartily glad when it again became dark and he could
venture to get out and stretch himself. He appropriated a
loaf and some bunches of grapes, took a long drink from a
pail placed under the tap of a water-butt, and made his way
back to his corner. After a hearty meal he went out again for
another drink, and then turned in to sleep.

So passed six days. By the rush of water against the outside
planks he could always judge whether the vessel was making
brisk way or whether she was lying becalmed. Once or twice
after nightfall he ventured up on dbv.k, feeling certain that in
the darkness there was no fear of his being detected. From con-
versation he overheard on the seventh evening he learned that
Corfu had been sighted that day. For some hours the vessel's
sails had been lowered, and she had remained motionless; but
she was now again making for the land, and in the course of
another two hours a landing was to be made.

The boats had all been got in readiness, and the men were
to muster fully armed. Although, as they understood, the
carrying o£f of two girls was their special object, it was intended

246

CORFU.

that tlicy should gather as much plunder as could be obtained.
The island was rich, for many wealthy Venetians had residences
there. Therefore, with the exception of a few men left on
board to take care of the galley, the whole were to land.

A picked boat's crew were to accompany the captain, who
was now comjiletely convalescent; the rest were to divide in
bands and scatter over the country, pillaging as they went, and
setting fire to the houses. It was considered that such conster-
nation would be caused that nothing like resistance could be
offered for some time, and by daybreak all hands were to gather
at the landing-place. How far this spot was from the town
Francis had no means of learning.

There was a store of spare arms in the hold, and Francis,
furnishing himself with a sword and large dagger, waited until
he heard a great movement overhead, and then went upon deck
and joined a gang of men employed in lowering one of the boats.

The boat was a large one, rowing sixteen oars and carrying
some twenty men seated in the stern; here Francis took his
place with the others, the boat pushed off and waited until four
others were launched and filled, then the order was given, and
the boats rowed in a body towards the shore. The men landed
and formed under their respective officers, one man remaining
in each boat to keep it afloat.

Francis leaped ashore, and while the men were forming up,
found no difficulty in slipping away unnoticed. As he did
not know where the path was, and was afraid of making a
noise, he lay down among the rocks until he heard the word
of command to start given; then he cautiously crept out, and,
keeping far enough in the rear to be unseen, followed the sound
of their footsteps. By the short time which had elapsed between
the landing and the start he had no doubt they were guided by
some persons perfectly acquainted with the locality, probably
by some natives of the island among the mixed crew.

f-.

SEEKING A GUIDE.

247

Francis had, during his voyage, thought over the course he
should pursue on landing, and saw that, ignorant as he was of
the country, his only hope was in obtaining a guide who would
conduct him to Polani's villa before the arrival of Mocenigo and
his band. The fact that the crew were divided into five parties
which were to proceed in different directions, and that he did
not know which of them was commanded by the captain, added
to the difficulty. Had they kept together he might, after seeing
the direction in which they were going, make a detour and get
ahead of them. But he might now follow a party going in an
entirely wrong direction, and before he could obtain a guide
Mocenigo's band might have gone so far that they could not be
overtaken before they reached the villa.

There was nothing to do but to get anead of all the parties
in the hope of coming upon a habitation before going far. As
soon, therefore, as the last band had disappeared he started at
a run. The country was open, with few walls or fences; there-
f "re on leaving the road he was able to run rapidly forwards, and
in a few minutes knew that he must be ahead of the pira^^es, then
he again changed his course so as to strike the road he had left.

After running for about a mile he saw a light ahead of him,
and soon arrived at a cottage. He knocked at the door, and
then entered. The occupants of the room — a man and woman,
a lad, and several children — rose to their feet at the sudden
entrance of the stranger.

"Good people," Francis said, "I have just landed from a
ship and am the bearer of important messages to the Signoras
Polani. I have lost my way, and it is necessary that I should
go on without a moment's delay. Can you tell me how far the
villa of Polani is distant?"

" It is about three miles from here," the man said.

" I will give a ducat to your son if he will run on with me
at once."

248

A RACE.

The man looked doubtful. The apparel and general appear-
ance of Francis were not prepossessing; he had been six days a
prisoner in the hold without means of washing.

" See," he said, producing a ducat, " here is the money. I
will give it you at once if you will order your son to go with
me and to hurry at the top of his speed."

" It's a bargain," the man said. " Here, Rufo ! start at once
with the signor."

"Come along, signor," the boy said; and without another
word to the parents Francis followed him out, and both set
off at a run along the road.

Francis had said nothing about pirates to the peasants, for
he knew that did he do so such alarm would be caused that they
would think of nothing but flight, and he should not be able
to obtain a guide. It was improbable that they would be
molested. The pirates were bent upon pillaging the villas of
the wealthy, and would not risk the raising of an alarm by
entering cottages where there was no chance of plunder. After
proceeding a few hundred yards the lad struck off by a by-road
at right angles to that which they had been following, and by
the direction he took Francis felt that he must at first have
gone far out of his way, and that the party going direct to the
villa must have had a considerable start; still he reckoned that
as he was running at the rate of three feet to every one they
would march, he might hope to arrive at the house well before
them.

Not a word was spoken as they ran along. The lad was
wondering in his mind as to what could be the urgent business
that could necessitate its being carried at such speed, while
Francis felt that every breath was needed for the work he had
to do. Only once or twice he spoke, to ask how much further
it was to their destination. The last answer was cheering:
" A few hundred paces farther."

SIGNOR POLANI WARNED.

24d

"There are the lights, signor; they have not gone to bed;
this is the door."

Francis knocked Avith the pommel of his sword, keeping up
a loud continuous knocking. A minute or two passed, and then
a face appeared at the window above.

"Who is it that knocks so loudly at this time of nightl"

" It is Francisco Hammond. Open instantly; danger threatens
the signoras. Quick, for your life!"

The servant recognized the voice and ran down without
hesitation and unbarred the fastening; but for a moment he
though^, he must have been mistaken as Francis ran into the
lighted hall.

"Where are the ladies?" he asked. "Lead me to them
instantly."

But as he spoke a door standing by was opened, and Signor
Polani himself with the two girls appeared. They had been on
the point of retiring to rest when the knocking began, and the
merchant with his drawn sword was standing at the door when
he recognized Francis' voice. They were about to utter an
exclamation of pleasure at seeing him, and of astonishment,
not only at his sudden arrival, but at his appearance, when
Francis burst out :

" There is no time for a word, you must fly instantly. Rug-
giero Mocenigo is close at my heels with a band of twenty
pirates."

The girls uttered a cry of alarm, and the merchant exclaimed :

" Can we not defend the house, Francisco 1 I have eight men
here, and we can hold it till assistance comes."

"Ruggiero has a hundred," Francis said, "and all can be
brought up in a short time — you must fly. For God's sake, do
not delay, signor. They may be here at any moment."

"Come, girls," Polani said; "and you too," he went on,
turning to the servants, whom the knocking had caused to

I' i

I I

250

JUST IN TIME.

assemble, " do you follow us ; resistance would only cost you
your lives. Here, Maria, take my hand. Francisco, do you
see to Giulia. Close the door after the last of you, and bolt it.
It will give us a few minutes before they break in and dis-
cover that we have all gone. Which way are the scoundrels
comingi "

Francis pointed in the direction from which he had come,
and the whole p"rty sta teci at a fast pace in thu other direc-
tion. T^"T hofi lot IvNui "une five minutes when a loud and
sudden knockirg broke ' the silence of the night.

"It was a close ll* ig in 1 •>d, Francisco," the merchant said
as they ran along close to each other. " At present I feel as if
I was in a dream; but you shall tell us all i)resently."

They were by this time outside the grounds of the villa, and
some of the servants who knew the country now took the lead.
In a few minutes the merchant slackened his pace.

" We are out of danger now," he said. " They will not know
in which direction to search for us; and if they scatter in pur-
suit we could make very short work of any that might come
up with us."

" I do not know that you are out of danger," Francis said.
"A hundred men landed; Mocenigo with twenty took the line
to your house, but the rest have scattered over the country in
smaller bands, bent on murder and pillage. Therefore v^e had
best keep on as fast as we can, until well beyond the circle they
are likely to sweep — that is, unless the ladies are tired."

"Tired!" Maria repeated. "Why, Giulia and I go for long
walks every day, and could run for an hour if necessar/-."

"Then come on, my dears," the merchant said. "I am
burning to know what this all means; and I am sure you are
equally curious; but nothing can be said till you are in safety."

Accordingly the party again broke into a run. A few minutes
later one of the servants, looking back, exclaimed :

froi
ij

" Tl

IN SAFETY.

251

pes

" They have fired the house, signer. There are flames issuing
from one of the lov er windows."

"I expected that, ' the merchant said, without looking^ back.
"That scoundrel would, in any case, light it in his fury at find-
ing thai we have escaped; biit he has probably done so now in
ho|.es that the light wiU enable him to discover us. It is well
that we are S'^ far ahead, for the blaze will light up the country
for a long way round."

" There is a wood a little way ahead, signor," the servant
said. " Once through that we shall be hidden from sight, how-
ever great the light."

Arrived at the wood they again broke into a walk. A >w
hundred yards beyond the wood was some rising gro- id, . m
which they could see far over the country.

"Let us stop here," the mercliant said; "we are siTj i^ow.
We have placed two miles between ourselves and th' ^ villains."

The villa was now a mass of flames. ExclamatKiit. of fury
broke from the men-servants, while the women cried with anger
at the sight of the destruction.

" Do not concern yourselves," the merchant said, " the house
can be rebuilt, and I will see that none of you are the poorer
for the loss of your belongings. Now, girls, let us sit down
here and hear from Francisco how it is that he has once again
been your saviour."

" Before I begin, signer, tell me whether there are any ships
of war in the port, and how far that is distant from us?"

"It is not above six miles on the other side of the island;
that is to say, we have been going towards it since we left the
villa. See," he broke off, " there are flames rising in three or
four directions; the rest of those villains are at their work."

"But are there any war galleys in the port?" Francis
interrupted.

"Yes; three ships were sent here on the report that a Moorish

1::

252

"PRANOISOO'S STORY WILL KEEP.'

pirate had been cruising in these waters, and that several vessels
were missing. When the story first came I did not credit it.
The captain of the ship who brought the news told me he had
met you about half-way across, and had told you about the
supposed pirate. A vessel arrived four days later, and brought
letters from my agent, but he said no word about your boat
having arrived. Then I became uneasy; and when later news
came, and still no word of you, I felt sure that something must
have befallen you; that possibly the report was true, and that
you had fallen into the hands of the pirates. So I at once started
in one of the galleys which the council were despatching in
answer to the request of the governor here."

" In that case, signer, there is not a moment to lose. The
governor should be informed that the pirate is lying on the
opposite coast, and that his crew have landed, and are burning
and pillaging. If orders are issued at once, the galleys could
get round before morning, and so cut off the retreat of these
miscreants."

"You are quite right," Polani said, rising at once. "We
will go on without a moment's delay! The girls can follow
slowly under the escort of the servants."

"Oh, papa," Maria exclaimed, "you are not going to take
Francisco away till we have heard his story ! Can you not send
forward the servants with a message to the governor?"

"No, my dear. The governor will have gone to bed, and
the servants might not be able to obtain admittance to him.
I must go myself. It is for your sakes, as well as for my own.
We shall never feel a moment's safety as long as this villain is
at large. Francisco's story will keep till to-morrow. As to your
gratitude and mine, that needs no telling. He cannot but know
what we are feeling at the thought of the almost miraculous
escape you have had from falling into the hands of your perse-
cutor. Now come along, Francisco. One of you men who

POLANl'S INSTKUOTIONS.

2.^)3

knows the road had better come with us. Do the rest of you all
keep together. Two miles further, girls, as you know, is a villa
of Carlo Maffene. If you feel tired, you had best stop and ask
for shelter there. There is no fear that the pirates will extend
their ravages so far. They will keep on the side of the island
where they landed, so as to be able to return with their booty
before daybreak to the ship.

^io^^^

take
send

CHAPTER XIV

THE END OF THE PERSECUTOR.

TGNOR POLANI was so well known that upon
his arrival at the governor's house the domestics,
upon being aroused, did not hesitate to awaken
the governor at once. The latter, as soon as he
heard that the pirates had landed and were devastating the
other side of the island, and that their ship was lying close
in to the coast under the charge of a few sailors only, at once
despatched a messenger to the commander of the galleys, order-
ing them to arouse the crews and make ready to put out to sea
instantly. He added that he himself should follow his mes-
senger on board in a few minutes and should accompany them ;
he then issued orders that the bell should toll to summon the
inhabitants to arms; and directed an officer to take the com-
mand, and to start with them at once across the island and to
fall upon the pirates while engaged in their work of pillage.
They were to take a party with them with litters to carry
Polani's daughters to the town, and an apartment was to be
assigned to them in his palace until his return.

While he was issuing this order refreshments had been placed
upon the table, and he pressed Polani and his companions to
partake of these before starting. Francis needed no second
invitation. He had been too excited at the news he had heard
on board the ship to think of eating, and he now remembered

[laced
Ins to

kond
leard
}ered

ON BOARD A STATE GALLEY.

255

that it was a good many hours since he had taken his last r.ieal;
he was but a few minutes, however, in satisfying his hunger.

By the time he had finished, the governor had seen that his
orders had been carried out. Two hundred armed citizens had
already mustered in companies and were now on the point of
setting out, burning with indignation at what they had heard
of the depredations which the pirates had committed. After
seeing his preparations complete the governor, accompanied by
Polani and Francis, made his way down to the port and was
rowed out to the galleys. Here he found all on the alert. The
sails were ready for hoisting, and the men were seated at the
benches ready to aid with oars the light wind which was blow-
ing.

The governor now informed the commander of the vessels the
reason of the sudden orders for sailing. The news was passed
to the captains of the other two vessels, and in a very few
minutes the anchors were weighed and the vessels started on
their way. Francis was closely questioned as to the spot at
which the pirate vessel was lying, but could only reply that,
beyond the fact that it was some four miles from Polani's
villa, he had no idea of the locality.

"But can you not describe to us the nature of the coast?"
the commander said.

"That I cannot," Francis replied; "for I was hidden away
in the hold of the vessel and did not come on deck until after
it was dark, at which time the land abreast of us was only a
dark mass."

"Signor Polani has informed me," the governor said, "that
although your attire does not l)etoken it you are a dear friend
of his; but he i is not yet informed me how it comes that you
were upon this pirate ship."

"He has been telling me as we came along," Polani replie<' ,
"and a strange story it is. He was on his voyage hither in tlie

1 1

I t

!^'

256

POLANI EXPLAINS MATTERS.

NaxoSy which, as you doubtless remember, was a little craft of
mine, v hich should have arrived here a month since. As we
supposed, it was captured by the pirates, the leader of whom is
Ruggiero Mocenigo, who, as of course you know, made his escape
from the custody of the officers of the state, they being over-
pcivered by a party of Paduans. The sentence of banishment
for life has been passed against him, and, until I heard from
my friend here that he was captain of the pirate which has
been seen oflf this island, I knew not what had become of him.

" l.'hose on board the Naxos were taken prisoners and con-
fined in the pirate's hold, which they found already filled with
captives taken from other ships. The pirate at once f»?.iled for
Africa, where all the prisoners were sold as slaves to the
Moors, my friend here alone excepted, Mocenigo having an old
feud with him and a design to keep him in his hands. Learn-
ing that P raid was intended upon Corfu with the special
design of carrying off my daughters, whom Mocenigo had
twice previously tried to abduct, Francisco managed to get on
board the vessel and conceal himself in her hold in order that
he might frustrate the design. He managed in the dark to
mingle with the landing party, and then, separating from them,
made his way on ahead, and fortunately was able to obtain a
guide to my house, which he reached five minutes only before
the arrival of the pirates there."

"Admirable, indeed! and we are all vastly indebted to him,
for had it not been for him we should not have known of the
doings of these scoundrels until too late to cut off their retreat;
and, once away in their ship again, they might long have preyed
upon our commerce before one of our cruisers happened to fall
in with them. As for Ruggiero Mocenigo, he is a disgrace to
the name of a Venetian ; and it ii sad to think that one of our
most noble families should have to bear the brand of being
connected with a man so base and villainous. However, I

>il!

THE PLAN OF ATTACK.

26r

trust that his power of ill-doing has come to an end. Is the
vessel a fast one, signor?"

"I cannot say whether she sails fast," Francis replies; "but
she certainly rows fast."

" I trust that we shall catch her before she gets under way,"
the commander of the galleys said. "Our vessels are not made
for rowing, although we get out oars to help them along in
calm weather."

"What course do you propose to take?" the merchant asked.

"When we approach the spot where she is likely to be lying
I shall order the captains of the other two ships to lie off the
coast a couple of miles distant and as far from each other, so
that they can cut her off as she makes out to sea. We will
follow the coast line, keeping in as close as the water will
permit, and in this way we shall most likely come upon her.
If we should miss her I shall at the first dawn of morning join
the others in the offing, and keep watch till she appears from
under the shadow of the land."

It was now three o'clock in the morning, and an hour later
the three vessels parted company, and the galley with the
governor and commander of the squadron rowed for the shore.
When they came close to the land the captain ordered the oars
to be laid in.

"The breeze is very light," he said; "but it is favourable,
and will enable us to creep along the shore. If we continue
rowing those in charge of the ship may hear us coming and
may cut their cables, get up sail, and make out from the land
without our seeing them. On a still night like this the sound
of the sweeps can be heard a very long distance."

Quietly the vessel made her way along the shore. Over the
land the sky was red with the reflection of numerous fires, but
this only made the darkness more intense under its shadow,
and the lead was kept going in order to prevent them from

(468) B

" ^"1 i »i i T' la fciiaitMiMi

25d

THE PIRATE AT ANCHOR.

I Hi!

sailing into shallow water. By the captain's orders strict
silence was observed or board the ship, and every eye was
strained ahead on the look-out for the pirate vessel. Presently
all became aware of a confused noise apparently coming from
the land, but at some distance ahead. As they got further on
distant shouts and cries were heard.

"I fancy," the governor said to the captain, "the band from
the town have met the pirates, and the latter are retreating to
their ship."

" Then the ship can't be far off," the captain said. " Day-
light is beginning to break in the east, and we shall soon be
able to make her out against the sky — that is, if she is still
lying at anchor."

On getting round the next point the vessel was distinctly
visible. The shouting on the shore was now plainly heard,
and there could be no doubt that a desperate fight was going
on there.

It seemed to be close to the water's edge.

" There is a boat rowing off to the ship," one of the sailors
said.

"Then xet out your oars again; she is not more than half a
mile away, and she can hardly get under way before we reach
her. Besides, judging from the sound of the fight, the pirates
must have lost a good many men and will not be able to man
all the oars even if they gain their ship."

The men sat down to their oars with alacrity. Every sailor
on board felt it almost as a personal insult that pirates should
dare to enter the Venetian waters and carry on their depreda-
tions there. The glare of the burning houses, too, had fired
their indignation to the utmost, and all were eager for the fight.
Three boats were now seen rowing towards the ship.

"Stretch to your oars, men," the captain said; "we must be
alongside them if we can before they can take to their sweeps."

"TRAITOR AND VILLAIN.**

259

half a

reach

)irates

to man

sailor
should
Ipreda-
fired
fight.

lust be
feeps."

? The pirates had now seen them; and Francis, standing at the
bow eagerly watching the vessiel, cc:iid hear orders shouted to
the boats. These pulled rapidly alongside, and he could see
the men clambering up in the greatest haste. There was a din
of voices; some men tried to get up the sails, others got out
oars, and the utmost confusion evidently prevailed. In obe-
dience to the shouts of the officers the sails were lowered again
and all betook themselves to the oars, but scarce a stroke had
been pulled before the Venetian galley ran up alongside.
Grapnels were thrown, and the crew, seizing their weapons,
sprang on to the deck of the pirate.

The crew of the latter knew tha(i they had no mercy to
expect, and although weakened by the loss of nearly a third of
their number in the fighting on shore, sprang from their benches
and rushed to oppose their assailants, with the desperation of
despair. They were led by Ruggiero Mocenigo, who, furious at
the failure of his schemes, and pi ef erring death to the shame of
being carried to Venice as a pirate and a traitor, rushed upon the
Venetians with a fury which at first carried all before it. Sup-
ported by his Moors and renegades he drove back the boarders,
and almost succeeded in clearing the deck of his vessel.

He himself engaged hand-to-hand with the commander of the
Venetian galley, and at the third thrust ran him through the
throat; but the Venetians, although they had yielded to the
first onslaught, again poured over the bulwarks of the galley.
Polani, burning to punish the man who had so repeatedly tried to
injure him, accompanied them, Francis keeping close beside him.

"Ruggiero Mocenigo, traitor and villain, your time has
come!"

Ruggiero started at hearing his name thus proclaimed, for
on board his own ship he was simply known as the captain;
but in the dim light he recognized Polani, and at once crossed
swords with him. . , . . . .

/'-- n

260

"HOW ABOUT YOUR VENGEANCE NOW?"

"Be not so sure, Polani; perhaps it is your time that has
come." .

The two engaged with fury. Polani was still strong and
vigorous, his opponent had the advantage of youth and activity.
But Polani's weight and strength told, and he was forcing his
opponent back when his foot slipped on the blood-stained deck.
He fell forward; and in another moment Ruggiero would have
run him through the body had not the weapon been knocked
up by Francis, who, watching every movement of the fight,
sprang forward when he saw the merchant slip.

" This time, Ruggiero, my hands are free. How about your
vengeance now?"

Ruggiero gave a cry of astonishment at seeing the lad whom
he believed to be lying in chains five hundred miles away, facing
him. For a moment he recoiled, and then with the cry,

"I will take it now," sprang forward; but this time he had
met an opponent as active and as capable as him'^f.lf.

For a mirmte or two they fought on even i^erms, and then
Ruggiero fell suddenly backwards, a cross-bow bolt from one
of the Venetians on the poop of the vessel having struck him
full in the forehead.

Without their leader the spirit of the pirates had fled. They
still fought, steadily and desperately, but it was only to sell
their lives as dearly as possible; and in five minutes after the fall
of Ruggerio the last man was cut down, for no quarter was given
to pirates.

Just as the combat concluded the sound of oars was heard,
and the other two galleys came up to the assistance of their
consort. They arrived too late to take part in the conflict, but
cheered lustily when they heard that the pirate captain and all
his crew had been killed. Upon learning that the commander
of thi r^Liley was killed, the captain next in seniority assumed
the J camaixd. In a few minutes the bodies of the pirates

III

i\V

\\ II

453

DEATH OF THE PIRATE RUGGIERO MOCENIGO.

"THANKS TO YOU, FRANCISCO."

211^

were thrown overboard, the wounded were carried below to
havo their wounds attended to, while the bodies of those who
had fallen — thirteen in number — were laid together on the
deck, for burial on shore.

" Thanks to you, Francisco, that I am not lying there beside
them," the merchant said. " I did not know that you were so
close at hand, and as I slipped I felt that my end had come."

"You were getting the better of him up to that point,"
Francis said. " I was close at hand in readiness to strike in
should I see that my aid was wanted, but up to the moment
you slipped I believed that you would have avenged your
wrongs yourself."

" It is well that he fell as he did. It would have been dreadful,
indeed, had he been carried to Venice to bring shame and dis-
grace upon a noble family. Thank God, his power for mischief
is at an end! I have had no peace of mind smce the day when
you first thwarted his attempt to carry off ho ■ , rls; nor should I
have ever had until I obtained sure tidings that he was dead.
The perseverance with which he has followed his resolve to make
my daughter his wife is almost beyond belief. Had his mind
been turned to other matters he was capable of attaining great-
ness, for no obstacle would have barred his way. It almost
seems as if it were a duel between him and you to the death
— his aim to injure me, and yours to defend us; and now it
has ended. Maria will breathe more freely when she hears the
news, for, gay and light-hearted as she is, the dread of that man
has weighed heavily upon her."

The governor, who from the poop of the vessel had watched
the conflict, now came up and warmly congratulated Francis
upon his bravery.

" I saw you rush forward just as my friend Polani fell and
engage his assailant. At first I thought you lost, for the villain
was counted one of the best swordsmen in Venice, and you are

262

THE RETURN TO THE FORT.

Still but a lad; but I ^aw you did not give way an inch, but held
your own against him ; and I believe you would have slain him
unaided, for you were fighting with greater coolness than he
was; still I was relieved when I saw him fall, for even then the
combat was doubtful, and his men, to do them justice, fought
like demons. How comes it that one so young as you should
be so skilled with your weapon?"

" This is not the first time that my young friend has done
good service to the state," Polani said; " for it was he who led
a crew of one of my ships to the aid of Pisani when his galley
was boarded by the Genoese, at the battle of Antium."

"Is this he?" the governor said in surprise. "I heardj of
course, by the account of those who came from Venice a month
since, how Pisani was aided, when hard pressed, by the crew of
one of your ships, headed by a young Englishman, upon whom
the state had conferred the rights of citizenship as a recognition
of his services; but I did not dream that the Englishman was
but a lad. What is your age, young sir?"

"I am just eighteen," Francis replied. "Our people are all
fond of stiong exercise, and thus it was that I became more
skilled perhaps *:han many of my age in the use of arms." ■

At nine o'c\)ck the squadron arrived in the port, bringing
with them tho captured galley. As soon as they were seen
approaching, the chiuxh bells rang, flags were hung out from
the houses, and the whole population assembled at the quay to
welcome the victors and to hear the news.

"Do you go on at once directly we land, Francisco, &rA set
the girls' minds at ease. I must come on with the governor,
and he is sure to be detained and will havj much to say betore
he can make his way through the crowd. '

Francis was, on his arrival at the governor's, recognized by
the domestics, and at once shown into the room where the girls
were awaiting him. The fact that the pirate galley had been

"ST. MARK BE PRAISED I **

263

captured was alrer/iy known to them, the news having been
brought some hours before by a horseman from the other side
of the island. - ,.

"Where is our father?" Maria exclaimed as Francis entered
alone.

" He is well, and sent me on to relieve your minds."

" St. Mark be praised ! " Maria said. We have been sorely
anxious about you both. A messenger who brought the news
said that it could be seen from the shore that there was a
desperate fight on board the pirate ship, which was attacked by
one galley only. We felt sure that it would l)e the ship that the
governor was in, and we knew you were with him; and our
father was so enraged at what had happeuod that we felt sure
he would take part in the fight."

" He did so," Francis said, "and himself engaged hand-to-hand
with Mocenigo, and would probably have killed him had not
his foot slipped on the deck. I was, of course, by his side, and
occupied the villain until a cross-bolt pierced bis brain. So
there is an end to all your '.rouble with him."

" Is he really dead ?" Maria said. "Oh, Francis(;o, how thank-
ful I am! he seemed so determined that I began to think he
was sure some day to succeed in carrying me off. Not that I
would ever have become his wife, for I had vowed to kill myself
before that came about. I should have thought he might have
known that he could never have forced me to be his wife."

"I told him the same thing," Francis said, "and he replied
that he was not afraid of that, for that he should have your
sister in his power also, and that he should warn you that if you
laid hands on yourself he should make her his wife instead of
you."

The girls both gave an exclamation of horror.

" I never thought of that," Maria said; "but he would indeed
have disarmed me with such a threat. It would have been

264 "YOU HAVE HEARD ALL THE NEWS, I SUPPOSE 1"

horrible for me to have been the wife of such a man; but I think
I could have boriio it rather than have consigned Giulia to such
a fate. Oh, here is father!"

" I have got away sooner than I expected," Polani said as he
entered. " The governor was good enough to beg me to come
on at once to you. You have heard all the news, I suppose, and
know that our enemy will persecute you no morel"

"We have heard, papa, and also th. t you yourself fought
with him, which was very wrong and very rash of you."

" And did he tell you that had it not been for him I should
not be here alive now, girls?"

"No, father; he said that when you slipped he occupied
Ruggiero's attention until the cross-bolt struck him."

"That is what he did, my dear; but had he not occupied his
attention I should have been a dead man. The thrust was
aimed at me as I fell, and would have pierced me had he not
sprung forward and turned it aside, and then engaged in single
combat with Mocenigo, who, with all his faults, was brave and
a skilful swordsman; and yet, as the governor himself said,
probably Francisco would have slain him, even had not the
combat ended as it did. And now we must have his story in
full. I have not heard much about it yet, and you have heard
nothing ; and I want to know how he managed to get out of the
hands of that man when he had once fallen into them."

"That is what we want to know too, father. We know
what a sharp watch was kept upon us, and I am sure they
must have been much more severe with him."

"They were certainly more severe." Francis said smiling,
" for my right hand was chained to my left ankle and the left
hand to the right ankle — not tightly, you know, but the chain
was so short that I could not stand upright; but, on the other
hand, I do not think my guards were as vigilant as yours.
However, I will tell you the whole story."

1
a
a
a

w
of
h(
th
til

ia,;''«

"WHAT ARE WE TO DO FOR HIM?"

26S

liling,

the left

chain

other

I yours.

The girls listened with rapt attention to the story of the
capture, the escape, and of his hiding in the hold of the pirate
in order to be able to give them a warning in time.

" Your escape was fortunate indeed," the merchant said when
he had finished. "Fortunate both for you and for us, for I
have no doubt that Mocenigo had intended to put you to a
lingering death on his return. As for the girls, nothing could
have saved them from the fate he designed for them save the
method which you took of arriving here before him."

"What are we to do for him, father?" Maria exclaimed.
" We are not tired of thanking him, but he hates being thanked.
If he would only get into some terrible scrape Giulia and I
would set out to rescue him at once ; but you see he gets out
of his scrapes before we hear of them. It is quite disheartening
not to be able to do anything."

Francis laughed merrily.

"It is terrible, is it not, signora? But if I manage to get
into any scrape, and have time to summon you to my assist-
ance, be sure I will do so. But, you see, one cannot get into
a scrape when one chooses, and I must be content while I am
away in knowing that I have the good wishes of you and youi*
sister."

"Do not trouble yourself, Maria," her father said; "some
day an opportunity may come for our paying our debts, and
in the meantime Francis is content that we should be his
debtors."

"And now, what are you going to do, papa?"

"I shall sail with you for Venice to-morro^^. The governor
will be sending one of the galleys with the news of the capture
of the pirate, and doubtless he will give us all a passage in
her. I shall order steps to be taken at once for rebuilding
the villa, and will get it completed by the spring, before which
time you will be oflf my hands, young lady; and I shall not be

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266

"IT HAS NOT BEEN MY FAULT."

altogether sorry, for you have been a very troublesome child
lately."

" It has not been my fault," Maria pouted.

" Not at all, my dear. It has been your misfortune, and 1
am not blaming you at all."

"But the trouble is now over, father!"

"So much the better for Kufino," the merchant said. " It will
be good news to him that you are freed from the persecution
of Ruggiero. And now, I must leave you, for I have arranged
to ride over with the governor to the other side of the island.
He has to investigate the damage which took place last evening.
I hear that upwards of a score of villas were sacked and de-
stroyed, and that many persons were killed, and while he is
doing that I shall see what has to be done at our place. I don't
know whether the walls are standing or whether it will have to
be entirely rebuilt, and I must arrange with some builder to
to go over from here with me and take my instructions as to
what must be done."

On the following day the party set sail for Venice, where
they arrived without adventure. Preparations were at once
begun for the marriage of Maria with Rufino Giustiniani, and
six weeks later the wedding ceremony took place. Francis did
not go to sea until this was over, for when he spoke of a fresh
voyage a short timeJ after their return Maria declared that she
would not be married unless he remained to be present.

"You have got me out of all my scrapes hitherto, Fran-
cisco, and you must see me safely through this." '

As Signor Polani also declared that it was not to be thought
of that Francis should leave until after the marriage, he was
obliged to remain for it. He was glad, however, when it
was over, for he found the time on shore more tedious than
usual. The girls were taken up with the preparations for the
ceremony, and visitors were constantly coming and going, and

child ^^^

uid 1

[twill -^^
cution
anged
island,
ening.
nd de-
I he is
[ don't
lave to
der to
3 as to

where
t once
li, and
cis did
fresh
at she

Fran-

lought
le was
len it
than
tor the
Ig, and

A WELCOME PROPOSAL.

267

the house was not like itself. But even when the marriage
was over he was forced to remain some time longer in Venice.
The Genoese fleets were keeping the sea, and Pisani had not,
since the battle of Antium, succeeded in coming up with them;
the consequence was that commerce was at a stand-still, for the
risk of capture was so great that the merchants ceased to send
their ships to sea.

" The profit would not repay us for the risk, Francisco," the
merchant said one day when they were talking over it. " If
only one cargo in ten fell into their hands the profit off the
other nine would be swept away; but as I see that you are
longing to be afloat again, you can, if you like, join one of the
state galleys which start next week to reinforce Pisani's fleet.
The last time Pisani wrote to me he said how glad he should
be to have you with him; and after your service at Antium I
have no doubt whatever that I could procure for you a post as
second in command in one of the ships. What do you say?"

"I should certainly like it, signer, greatly; but, as you said
before, it would be a mere waste of time for me to take service
with the state when I am determined upon the vocation of a
merchant."

"I did say that, Francis, and meant it at the time; but at
present trade is, as you see, at a stand-still, so you would not
be losing time, and, in the next place, it is always an advantage
even to a trader to stand well with the state. Here in Venice
all the great merchants are of noble family, and trade is no bar
to occupying the highest offices of the state. Many of our
doges have been merchants; while merchants are often soldiers,
diplomatists, or governors as the state requires their services.
You have already, you see, obtained considerable benefit by the
'action at Antium. I do not say that you would derive any
direct benefit even were you to distinguish yourself again as
highly as on that occasion, still it is always well to gain the

i I

If' I.

268

*<I AM QUITE JEALOUS."

consideration of your fellows and to be popular with the people.
Therefore if you would like to take service with the state
until this affair is decided with Genoa and the seas are again
open to our ships, I think it will be advantageous to you rather
than not."

" Then, with your permission I will cei'tainly do so, signor,"
Francis said. " Of course I should prefer to go as an officer on
board one of the ships; but if not^ I will go as a volun-
teer."

" You need not fear about that, Francis. With my influence
and that of the Giustiniani, and the repute you have gained for
yourself, you may be sure of an appointment. Rufino would
have commanded one of the ships had it not been for his mar-
riage."

Rufino Giustiniani had indeed been most warm in his ex-
pressions of gratitude to Francis, to whom the whole family
had shown the greatest attention, giving him many presents as
a proof of their good-will and gratitude.

" I am quite jealous of your English friend," Rufino had said
one day to Maria. " I do believe, Maria, that you care for
him more than you do for me; it is lucky for me that he is not
two or three years older." ^

Maria laughed.

"I do care for him dearly; and if he had been, as you say,
older and had fallen in love with me, I can't say how it would
have been. You must acknowledge it would be very hard to
say no to a man who keeps on saving you from frightful peril;
but then, you see, a girl can't fall in love with a man who does
not fall in love with her. Francisco is so different from us
Venetians; he always says just whut he thinks, and never pays
anyone even the least bit of a compliment. How can you fall
in love with a man like that ? Of course you can love him like
a brother — and I do love Francisco as if he were my brother —

\?.]^

"I SHALL Have TO PUT UP WITH IT."

269

;he people,
the state
are again

yoM rather

0, signer,"
1 officer on
; a volun-

y influence
gained for
fino would
>r his mar-
in his ex-
lole family
bresents as

lo had said
care for
he is not

& you say,
y it would
•y hard to
tful peril;
who does
, from us
lever pays
,n you fall
him like
brother —

btit I don't think we should have got further than that if he had
been ever so old."

"And does Francis never pay you compliments, Giulia?"

"Never!" Giulia said decidedly. "It would be hateful of
him if he did."

"But Maria doesn't object to compliments, Giulia. She
looks for them as if they were her daily bread; don't you,
Maria? You will have to learn to put up with them soon,
Giulia, for you will be out in society now, and the young men
will crowd round your chair just as they have done round that
of this little flirt your sister."

"I shall have to put up with it, I suppose," Giulia said
quietly, "just as one puts up with other annoyances ; but I should
certainly never get to care for anyone who thinks so little of
me as to believe that I could be pleased by being addressed in
such terms."

" From which I gather," Giustiniani said smiling, " that this
English lad's bluntness of speech pleases you more than it does
Maria?"

" It pleases Maria too," Giulia said, " though she may choose
to say that it doesn't. And I don't think it quite right to
discuss him at all when we all owe him as much as we do."

Giustiniani glanced at Maria and gave a little significant
nod.

" I do not think Giulia regards Francisco in quite the bro-
therly way that you do, Maria," he whispered presently to her.

" Perhaps not," Maria answered. " You see she had not fallen
in love with you before she met him. But I do not know;
Giulia seldom speaks of him when we are alone, and if she did,
you don't suppose I should tell you my sister's secrets, sir?"

The day after his conversation with Francis, Polani handed
him his nomination as second in command of the Pluto, which
he had obtained that morning from the seignory.

270

*■ *'^'«'« «>R iHB cAwma

»WKi r ^^ "6^e to so with r.^ T , " *"^* poor

"0 y; he wa, a most faithS a^d drvld M,"" "'" "''"'«'-
■I have already senf «.^ aevoted follower."

"» pains in dW^rft ^wTo '".^ "«<'"' '» ^-^ '» spare

a'Jha same time, as it wil, mareTs""" T"^ ''-«' -"
t>ace our men. Those purcS ' T*" ""^ *«™It to
'ian their first name^ and 31? """ '"""^ *» ^"^^ "ore
find out those, but rniy gL 1" ,r^ '^'' "«' "•<"""« to

"asters of the whole of th! . ^"'^ ""' "'''o are now the
and then to pursue his i„tZr "" '' '"« »"■« «»«
denfty of the men fce is ooltf ''""' n""' ""^ "'■^'-^^ "he
I "."promise you there «^,t„!;-, °"'=t '''''" '"""^ this
to make the best bargain in lalt u^' ^ '"'^« "-^ored him

;;ate he is to buy evefy one ^1?' ." ™"' ••"' "«" at any
^;« -nt him the pe'^onal de'ern^r'^^-'- "' >»ay cost. "^J
boats crew, as given to me by the"? 7' "^^ "''" "^ the
as this will be an assistance i^ uT T' "'"' '''''''"ves here
hears of a Christian slave nlmed''^"'-. "' '"' '^^ance, le ^
some hundreds of miw '„"? f '"'Wi living with a ma^tt
« "iddle-aged wiU^it at t 'TrT' '"" '^''^^ th~ /
age 20, of whom be is i^st^T T h "' ""^ ""' '"« «™-Pp"
upon him in my letter th»rr "*"'' P^^'^'arly impress^' i
-cue Of ehecTptairaSC;-- . 1

ret ^ ""* ""■« ^°» ^ctur^ from t?" ™*PP'' ^ ^ ^ope

to .»S :LTZ^ '''^' '"'» »« "-d that he was going '

I would rather that we had hof. v '

« had both been vol«nteei^»j^ .

*««—

NEW SHIPMATES.

271

mt Matteo
3 wedding,
that poor
i him ter-

s to spare
axos were
were sold
lifficult to
low more
rouble to
bion that
now the
ne time,
vers the
und this
sred him

at any-

ost. I

of the
•s here,

ce, he

laster

s man

seppi,

e^sed

T the

hope

Ihave

said; "it seems absurd my being appointed second officer,
while you as yet have no oificial position."

" I am not in the least bit in the world jealous, Francisco.
With the exception of taking part in the fight at Antium, I
have had no experience whatever, while you have been going
through all sorts of adventures for the last two years and
always have come out of them marvellously well."

An hour after Matteo left him a retainer of the family brought
Francis a letter from Signor Giustiniani, inviting him to come
to his house that evening, as many of Matteo's comrades on
board the Pluto would be present.

On Francis going to the palace he found assembled not only
the young men who would be Matteo's comrades as volunteers,
but also the captain and other officers of the ship, and to them
Signor Giustiniani personally presented Francis, while Rufino
and Matteo did all they could to ensure the heartiest welcome
for him by telling everyone how greatly they were indebted
to him, and how gallantly he had behaved on several occasions.
Many of the young men he already knew as Matteo's friends,
and by them he was received with the greatest cordiality; but
his reception by the captain, and one or two of the other officers,
was much more cool. The captain, whose name was Cai'lo
Bottini, was a distant connection of the Mocenigo family, and
was therefore already prejudiced against Francis. The coolness
of the other officers was due to the fact that Francis, a foreigner
and several years junior to themselves, had been placed in
command over their heads." , ,

1 ; !iH

' 'ill
1 , . !

:' ' ' '/

}

i »)i

■' I

CHAPTER XV.

THE BATTLE OF POLA.

[HE squadron, consisting of four galleys, sailed for
Cyprus, where Pisani had just endeavoured with-
out success to expel the Genoese from Famagosta.
It was towards the end of August that they
effected a junction with his fleet. Pisani received Francis
with great warmth, and in the presence of many officers
remarked that he was glad to see that the republic was at last
appointing men for their merits, and not, as heretofore, allow-
ing family connection and influence to be the chief passport to
their favour.

For two months the fleet sailed among the islands of the
Levant and along the shores of Greece, Istria, and Dalmatia,
hoping to find the Genoese fleet, but altogether without success.
In November, when they were on the coast of Istria, winter
set in with extraordinary severity, and the frost was intense.
Pisani wrote to his government asking permission to bring the
fleet into Venice until the spring. The seignory, however,
refused his request, for they feared that were it known that
their fleet had come into port for the winter the Genoese would
take advantage of its absence to seize upon some of the islands
belonging to Venice, and to induce the inhabitants of the cities
of Istria and Dalmatia, always ready for revolt^ to declare
against her.

rever,
that
rould
lands
:ities
Iclare

A TERRIBLE WINTER.

278

The first indications of the winter were more than verified.
The cold was altogether extraordinary ; and out of the nineteen
galleys of Pisani only six were fit to take the sea with their full
complement of men when the spring of 13Y9 began. Many of
the vessels had been disabled by storms; numbers of the men
had died, more had been sent home invalided, and it was only
by transferring the men from the other vessels to the six in
the best condition that the crews of the latter were made up to
their full strength.

As soon as the terrible frost broke, Pisani received a rein-
forcement of twelve ships from Venice, these being, for the
most part, built and equipped at the cost of his personal friends,
Polani having contributed two of the number. With the
eighteen sail Pisani put to sea to prosecute a fresh search for
the Genoese admiral, Doria, and his fleet. The Pluto was one
of the six vessels which remained in good condition at the
end of the winter, thanks in no small degree to the energy
and care which Francis had bestowed in looking after the
welfare of the crew. In the most bitter weather he had
himself landed with the boats to see that firewood was cut and
brought off in abundance, not only for the officers' cabins, but
to warm that portion of the ship inhabited by the men.
Knowing that Polani would not grudge any sum which might
be required, he obtained from his agents ample supplies of
warm clothing and bedding for the men, occupying himself in-
cessantly for their welfare, while the captain and other officers
passed their time in their warm and comfortable cabins.

Francis induced Matteo and several of his comrades to brave
the weather as he did, and to exert themselves for the benefit of
the men; and the consequence was, that while but few of the
other ships retained enough men to raise their sails in case of
emergency, the strength of the crew of the Pluto was scarcely
impaired at the termination of the winter. The admiral, on

(463) s

!lll

274

PRAISE MISPLACED.

paying a visit of inspection to the ship, was greatly struck with
♦"he contrast which the appearance of the crew atforded to that
of the other galleys, and warmly complimented the commander
on the condition of his men.

The captain received the praise as if it was entirely due to
himself, and said not a single word of the share which Francis
had had in bringing it about. Matteo was most indignant at
this injustice towards his friend, and managed that through a
relative serving in the admiral's own ship, a true report of
the case should come to Pisani's ears. Francis was in no way
troubled at the captain's appropriation of the praise due to
himself. There had not, from the time he sailed, been any
cordiality between Francis and the other officers. These had
been selected for the position solely from family influence, and
none of them were acquainted with the working of a ship.

In those days, not only in Venice but in other countries,
naval battles were fought by soldiers rather than sailors.
Nobles and knights, with their retainers, embarked on board
a ship for the purpose of fighting, and of fighting only, the
management of the vessel being carried on entirely by sailors
under their own officers. Thus, neither the commander of the
force on board the galley, nor any of his officers, with the
exception of Francis, knew anything whatever about the
management of the ship, nor were capable of giving orders to
the crew. Among the latter were some who had sailed with
Francis in his first two voyages, and these gave so excellent a
report of him to the rest that they were from the first ready to
obey his orders as promptly as those of their own sub-officer.

Francis concerned himself but little with the ill-will that
was shown him by the officers. He knew that it arose from
jealousy, not only of the promotion he, a foreigner and a
junior in years, had received over them, but of the fact that
he had already received the thanks of the republic for the

ck with

to tbat

imander

y due to
I Francis
iguant at
,hrougb a
report of
in no way
ae due to
been any
These had
luence, and

a ship.
r countries,
han sailors.
,c\ on board
ig only, the
y by sailors
uder of the
,^ with the
about the
ig orders to
sailed with
excellent a
irst ready to
sub-officer,
ill-will that
L arose from
ligner and a
the fact that
ublic for the

A COUNCIL OF WAR.

275

services he had rendered, and stood high in the favour of the
admiral, who never lost an opportunity of showing the interest
he had in him. Had the hostility shown itself in any offensive
degree Francis would at once have resented it; but Matteo and
some of those on board who had been his comrades in the
fencing-rooms had given such reports of his powers with his
weapons that even those most opposed to him thought it pru-
dent to observe a demeanour of outward politeness towards him.

For three months the search for the Genoese fleet was in-
effectual. A trip had been made along the coast of Apulia, and
the fleet had returned to Pola with a large convoy of merchant
ships loaded with grain, when on the 7th of May Doria appeared
off the port with twenty-five sail.

But Pisani was now by no means anxious to fight. Zeno
was away with a portion uf the fleet, and although he had
received reinforcements he numbered but twenty-one vessels,
and a number of his men were laid up with sickness. The
admiral, however, was not free to follow out the dictates of
his own opinions. The Venetians had a mischievous habit,
which was afterwards adopted by the French republic, of
fettering their commanders by sea and land by appointing
civilian commissioners, or, as they were termed in Venice,
proveditors, who had power to overrule the nominal com-
mander. When, therefore, Pisani assembled a council of war,
and informed them of his reasons for wishing to remain on
the defensive until the return of Zeno, he was ovemiled by
the proveditors, who not only announced themselves unani-
mously in favour of battle, but sneered at Pisani's prudence as
being the result of cowardice. Pisani in his indignation drew
his sword and would have attacked the proveditors on the spot
had he not been restrained by his captains.

However, the council decided upon instant battle, and Pisani
was forced, by the rules of the service, at once to carry their

276

A HAND-TO-HAND OONFLICfT.

decision into effect Ascending the poop of his galley, he ad-
dressed in a loud voice the crews of the ships gathered around
him.

"Remember, my brethren, that those who will now face
you are the same whom you vanquished with so much glory
on the Boman shore. Do not let the name of Luciano Doria
terrify you; it is not the names of commanders that will decide
the conflict, but Venetian hearts and Venetian hands. Let
him that loves St. Mark follow me."

The men received the address with a shout, and as soon as
the commanders had regained their galleys the fleet moved out
to attack the enemy. The fight was a furious one, each vessel
singling out an opponent and engaging her hand to hand. Carlo
Bottini was killed early in the flght, and Francis succeeded to
the command. His galley had grappled with one of the largest
of the Genoese vessels, and a desperate conflict went on. Some-
times the Venetians gained a footing on the deck of the
Genoese, sometimes they were diiven back and the Genoese in
turn poured on board, but no decisive advantage was gained on
either side after an hour's fighting.

The Genoese crew was numerically much stronger than that
of the PlutOf and although Francis with Matteo and his com-
rades headed their men and cheered them on, they could make no
impression on the ranks of the enemy. Suddenly the Genoese
threw off the grapnels that attached the two ships, and hoisting
their sails, sheered off. Francis looked round to see the cause
of this sudden manoeuvre, and perceived for the first time that
the Genoese vessels were all in flight, with the Venetians press-
ing closely upon them.

Sails were at once hoisted, and the Pluto joined in the chase.
But the flight was a feigned one, and it was only designed to
throw the Venetian rank into confusion. After sailing for
two miles the Genoese suddenly turned aud fell upon their

(

I '

DEFEAT.

277

e ad-
ound

' face
glory
Doria
decide
, Let

joon as
zed out
1 vessel
.. Carlo
eded to
) largest
. Some-
; of the
inoese in
ained on

ban that
his com-
make no
Genoese
hoisting
the cause
time that
,ns press-

pursuers as they came up in straggling order. The result was
decisive. Many of the Venetian ships were captured before the
rest came up to take part in the battle ; others were hemmed
in by numerous foes. Pisani, after fighting until he saw that
all was lost, made the signal for the ships to withdraw from the
conflict, and he himself, with six galleys, succeeded in fighting
his way through the enemy's fleet, and gained a refuge in the
port of Parenzo.

All the rest were taken. From seven to eight hundred
Venetians perished in the fight, two thousand four hundred
were taken prisoners, twelve commanders were killed, and
jSve captured. The Genoese losses were also severe, and Doria
himself was among the slain, having been killed by a spear
thrust by Donato Zeno, commander of one of the galleys, almost
at the moment of victory.

The Pluto had defended herself for a long time against the
attacks of three of the Genoese galleys, and had repeatedly
endeavoured to force her way out of the throng, but the
Genoese held her fast with their grapnels, and at last the greater
part of her crew were driven down below, and Francis, seeing
the uselessness of further resistance, ordered the little group,
who were now completely pent in by the Genoese, to lower
their weapons. All were more or less severely wounded, and
were bleeding from sword cuts and thrusts.

"This is an evil day for Venice," Matteo said, as, having
been deprived of their weapons, the prisoners were thrust below.
"I heard the Genoese say that only six of our galleys have
escaped, all the rest have been taken. We were the last ship to
surrender, that's a comfort anyhow."

"Now, Matteo, before you do anything else let me. bind up
your wounds; you are bleeding in two or three places."

" And you are bleeding from something like a dozen, Fran-
cisco, so you had better let me play the doctor first."

liiii

278

PRISONERS.

"The captain is always served last, so do as you are told, and
strip off your doublet. Now, gentlemen," he said, turning to
the other officers, " let each of us do what we can to dress the
wounds of others; we can expect no care from the Genoese
leeches, who will have their hands full for a long time to come
with their own men. There are some among us who will
soon bleed to death unless their wounds are staunched. Let
us, therefore, take the most serious cases first, and so on in
. itaJon until all have been attended to."

It was fortunate for them that in the hold in which they
were confined there were some casks of water; for, for hours
the Genoese paid no attention whatever to their prisoners, and
the wounded were beginning to suffer agonies of thirst when
the barrels were fortunately discovered. The head of one
was knocked in, and some shallow tubs used for serving the
water to the crew filled, and the men knelt down and drank
by turns from these. Many were too enfeebled by their wounds
to rise, and their thirst was assuaged by dipping articles of
clothing into the water, and letting the fluid from these run
into their mouths.

It was not until next morning that the prisoners were ordered
to come on deck. Many had died during the night, others
were too weak to obey the summons. The names of the rest
were taken, and not a little surprise was expressed by the
Genoese officers at the extreme youth of the officer in command
of the Pluto.

"I was only the second in command," Francis said in answer
to their questions. "Carlo Bottini was in command of the
ship, but he was killed at the commencement of the fight."

" But how is it that one so young came to be second 7 You
must belong to some great family to have been thus pushed
forward above men so much your senior."

" It was a wise choice nevertheless," the commaiider of one

"YOU ARE NOT A MERCENARY?'

279

of the galleys which had been engaged with the Pluto said, "for
it is but justice to own that no ship was better handled or
fought in the Venetian fleet. They were engaged with us first,
and for over an hour they fought us on fair terms, yielding no
foot of ground, although we had far more men than they
carried I noticed this youth fighting always in the front line
with the Venetians, and marvelled at the strength and dexterity
with which he used his weapons, and afterwards, when there
were three of us around him, he fought like a boar surrounded
by hounds. I am sure he is a brave youth, and well worthy
the position he held, to whatsoever he owed it."

"I belong to no noble family of Venice," Francis said. "My
name is Francis Hammond, and my parents are English."

"You are not a mercenary, I trust?" the Genoese captain
asked earnestly.

" I am not," Francis replied. "I am a citizen of Venice,
and my name is inscribed in her books, as my comrades will
vouch."

"Right glad am I that it is so," the Genoese said, "for Pietro
Doria, who is now, by the death of his brother, in chief com-
mand, has ordered that every mercenary found among the
prisoners shall to-day be slain."

" It is a brutal order," Francis said fearlessly, " whosoever
may have given it! A mercenary taken in fair fight has as
much right to be held for ransom or fair exchange as any
other prisoner; and if your admiral thus breaks the laws of
war, there is not a free-lance from one end of Italy to the other
but will take it up as a personal quarrel."

The Genoese frowned at the boldness with which Francis
spoke, but at heart agreed in the sentiments he expressed; for
among the Genoese officers generally there was a feeling that
this brutal execution in cold blood was an impolitic as well as
a disgraceful deed.

280

"THE CHANCES ARE IN OUR FAVOUR."

The oflScers were now placed in the forehold of the ship,
the crew being confined in the after-hold. Soon afterwards
they knew by the motion of the vessel that sail had been put
on her.

"So we are on our way to a Genoese prison, Francisco,"
Matteo said; "we had a narrow escape of it before, 'but this
time I suppose it is our fate."

" There is certainly no hope of rescue, Matteo; it is too early
as yet to say whether there is any hope of escape. The prospect
looked darker when I was in the hands of Euggiero, but I
managed to get away; then I was alone and closely guarded,
now we have in the ship well-nigh two hundred friends, pris-
oners like ourselves, it is true, but still to be counted on. Then,
too, the Genoese are no doubt so elated with their triumph
that they are hardly likely to keep a very vigilant guard over
us. Altogether, I should say that the chances are in our
favour. Were I sure that the Fluto is sailing alone I should
be very confident that we might retake her, but probably the
fifteen captured ships are sailing in company, and would at
once come to the aid of their comrades here, directly they saw
any signs of a conflict going on, and we could hardly hope to
recapture the ship without making some noise over it."

" I should think not," Matteo agreed.

"Then again, Matteo, even if we find it impossible to get
at the crew, and with them to recapture the ship, some chance
may occur by which you and I may manage to make our escape."

" If you say so, Francisco, I at once believe it. You got us all
out of the scrape down at Girgonti. You got Polani's daughters
out of a worse scrape when they were captives on San Nicolo ;
and got yourself out of the worst scrape of all when you
escaped from the grip of Ruggiero Mocenigo. Therefore,
when you say that there is a fair chance of escape out of this
business, I look upon it as almost as good as done."

e ship,
irwards
sen put

ncisco,"
»ut this

DO early
)rospect
), but I
;uarded,
ds, pris-
. Then,
triumph
ard over
I in our
i should
ably the
v^ould at
ley saw
hope to

e to get
e chance
escape."
rot us all
aughters
Nicolo;
hen you
herefore,
t 01 this

"MY WOUNDS SMART AMAZINGLY."

281

" It is a long way from that, Matteo," Francis laughed; " still
I hope we may manage it somehow. I have the greatest
horror of a Genoese prison, for it is notorious that they treat
their prisoners of war shamefully, and I certainly do not mean
to enter one if there is the slightest chance of avoiding it;
but for to-day, Matteo, I shall not even begin to think about
it. Ill the first place my head aches with the various thumps
it has had; in the second, I feel weak from loss of blood;
and in the third, my wounds smart most amazingly."

"So do mine," Matteo agreed; "in addition I am hungry,
for the bread they gave us this morning was not fit for dogs,
although I had to eat it, as it was that or nothing."

" And now, Matteo, I shall try to get a few hours* sleep. I
did not close my eyes last night from the pain of my wounds,
but I think I might manage to drop off now."

The motion of the vessel aided the effect of the bodily
weakness that Francis was feeling, and in spite of the pain of
his wounds he soon went off into a sound sleep. Once or
twice he woke, but hearing no voices or movement, he. sup-
posed his companions were all asleep, and again went off,
until a stream of light coming in from the opening of the
hatchway thoroughly roused him. Matteo, who was lying
by his side, also woke and stretched himself, and there was
a general movement among the ten young men who were their
comrades in misfortune.

" Here is your breakfast," a voice from above the hatchway
said, and a basket containing bread and a bucket of water
was lowered by ropes.

"Breakfast!" Matteo said; "why, it is not two hours since
we breakfasted last."

"I suspect it is twenty-two, Matteo; we have had a very
long sleep, and I feel all the better of it. Now let us divide
the liberal breakfast our captors have given us; fortunately

r<fl

'f!

-282

«(

I AM YOUR CAPTAIN NO LONGER.

there is just enough light coining down from those scuttles to
enable us to do so fairlv "

There was a general laugh from his comrades at the cheerful
way in which Francis spoke. Only one of them had been an
officer on the Pluto; the rest were, like Matteo, volunteers of
good families. There was a good deal of light-hearted jesting
over their meal. When it was over Francis said:

" Now let us hold a council of war." -

" You are better off than Pisani was anyhow," one of the
young men said, " for you are not hampered with proveditors,
and anything that your captaincy may suggest will, you may
be sure, receive our assent."

"I am your captain no longer," Francis replied; "we are all
prisoners now and equal, and each one has a free voice and a
free vote."

"Then I give my voice and vote at once, Francisco,**
Matteo said, "to the proposal that you remain our captain,
and that we obey you as cheerfully and willingly as we should
if you were on the poop of the Pluto instead of being in the
hold. In the first place, at Carlo's death you became our cap-
tain by right so long as we remain together; and in the
second place you have more experience than all of us put
together, and a very much better head than most of us, my-
self included. Therefore, comrades, I vote that Messer Fran-
cisco Hammond be still regarded as our captain, and obeyed as
such."

There was a general chorus of assent, for the energy which
Francis had displayed throughout the trying winter, and the
manner in which he had led the crew during the desperate
fighting, had won for him the regard and the respect of them all.

"Very well, then," Francis said; "if you wish it so I will
remain yo'ir leader, but we will nevertheless hold our council
of yraa:. The question which I shall first present to your con-

A COUNCIL OF WAR.

283

which
|nd the

jperate
|em all.

I will

jouncil
con-

sideration is, which is the best way to set about retaking the
Plutoi"

There was a burst of laughter among the young men. The
matter-of-fact way in which Francis proposed what seemed to
them an impossibility amused them immensely.

" I am quite in earnest," Francis went on when the laughter
had subsided ; " if it is possibly to be done I mean to retake the
PlutOy and I have very little doubt that it is possible if we set
about it in the right way. In the first place, we may take it
as absolutely certain that we very considerably outnumber the
Genoese on board. They must have suffered in the battle
almost as much as we did, and have had nearly as many killed
and wounded. In the second place, if Doria intends to profit
by his victory he must have retained a fair amount of fighting
men on board each of his galleys, and, weakened as his force
was by the losses of the action, he can spare but a comparatively
small force on board each of the fifteen captured galleys. I
should think it probable that there are not more than fifty
men in charge of the Pluto, and we number fully three times
that force. The mere fact that they let down our food to us
by ropes instead of bringing it down, showed a consciousness
of weakness."

"What you say is quite true," Paolo Parucchi, the other
officer of the Pluto, said; "but they are fifty well-armed men,
and we are a hundred and fifty without arms and shut down
in the hold, to which must be added the fact that we are cut
off from our men, and our men from us. They are, as it
were, without a head to plan, while we are without arms to
strike." . .

A murmur of approval was heard among some of the young
men. ,..

" I do not suppose that there are no difficulties in our way,"
Francis said quietly; "or that we have only, next time the

Ail

284

THE FIRST STEP.

hatch is opened, to say to those above, Gentlemen of Genoa,
we are more numerous than you are, and we therefore request
you to change places with us immediately. All I have
asserted so far is that we are sufficiently strong to retake the
ship if we get the opportunity. What we have now to settle
is how that opportunity is to come about. To begin with, has
any one a dagger or knife which has escaped the eye of our
searchers?"

No one replied.

" I was afraid that nothing had escaped the vigilance of those
who appropriated our belongings. As, however, we have no
weapons or tools, the next thing is to see what there is in the
hold which can be turned to account. It is fortunate we are
on board the Pluto instead of being transferred to another ship,
as we already know all about her. There are some iron bolts
driven in along a beam at the farther end; they have been
used, I suppose, at some time or other for hanging the carcasses
of animals from. Let us see whether there is any chance of
getting some of them out."

The iron pegs, however, were so firmly driven into the beam
that all their efforts failed to move them in the slightest.

"We will give that up for the present," Francis said, "and
look round for soniething more available."

But with the exception of the water-casks, the closest search
failed to find anything in the hold.

" I do not know whether the iron hoops of a cask would be
of any use," Matteo said.

"Certainly they would be of use if we get them off,
Matteo."

" There is no difiiculty about that," one of the others said,
examining the casks closely. " This is an empty one, and the
hoops seem quite loose."

In a few minutes four iron hoops were taken off the cask.

1 of Genoa,
fore request
A.11 I have
) retake the
low to settle
;in with, has
eye of our

kuce of those
we have no
ere is in the
mate we are
mother ship,
le iron bolts
/ have been
;he carcasses
ly chance of

to the beam
itest.
said, "and

osest search

k would be

them off,

>thers said,
le, and the

"^he cask.

"WHAT NEXT, CAPTAIN?"

285

"After all," Matteo said, "they cannot be of much use; the
iron is rust-eaten, and they would break in our hands before
going into any one."

" They would certainly be useless as daggers, Matteo, but I
think that with care they .will act as saws. Break off a length
of about a foot, now straighten it, and tear a piece off your
doublet and wrap it round and round one end, so that you can
hold it. Now just try it on the edge of a beam."

" It certainly cuts," Matteo announced after a trial, "but not
very fast."

" So that it cuts at all we may be very well content," Francis
said cheerfully; "we have got a week at least to work in, and
if the wind is not favourable we may have a month. Let us
therefore break the hoops up into pieces of the right length.
We must use them carefully, for we may expect to have many
breakages." •

" What next, captain ? "

" Our object will, of course, be to cut through into the main
hold which separates us from the crew. There we shall probably
find plenty of weapons; but to use our saws we must first find
a hole in the bulkhead. First of all then let there be a strict
search made for a knot-hole, or any other hole through the
bulkhead."

It was too dark for eyes to be of much use, but hands were
run all over the bulkhead, but no hole however small was
discovered.

" It is clear, then," Francis said, " that the first thing to do
is to cut out some of those iron bolts. Pick out those that
are nearest to the lower side of the beam, say three of them.
There are twelve of uj, that will give four to each bolt, and
we can relieve each other every few minutes. Remember, it
is patience that is required and not strength."

The work was at once begun. The young men had by this

'My

286

THE FIRST SUCCESS.

time fully entered into the spirit of the attempt. The quiet
and business-like way in which their leader set about it con-
vinced them that he at least had a firm belief that tho work
was possible; and there was a hope, even if but a remote one,
of avoiding the dreaded dungeons of Genoa.

The work was slow, and two or three of the strips of iron
were at first broken by the too great eagerness of their holders;
but when it was found that by using them lightly the edges
gradually cut their way into the wood, the work went on regu-
larly. The Pluto had been hurriedly constructed, and any
timbers that were available in the emergency were utilized.
Consequently much soft wood that at other times would never
have been found in the state dockyards was put into her. The
beam at which they wc^e working was of soft timber, and a
fine dust fell steadily as the rough iron was sawed backward
and forward upon it.

Two cuts were made under each bolt, wide at the base and
converging towards it. The saws were kept going the whole
day, and although the progress was slow it was fast enough to
encourage them; and just as the light that came through the
scuttle faded away three of the young men hung their weight
upon One of the bolts, and the wood beneath it, already almost
severed, gave, and a suppressed cry of satisfaction announced
that one bolt was free.

The pieces of iron were two feet long and were intended for
some other purpose, but had been driven in when, on loading
the ship, some strong pegs on which to hang carcasses were
required. They were driven about three inches into the beam,
and could have been cut out with an ordinary saw in two or
three minutes.

" Try the others," Francis said. " As many of you get hold
of them as can put your hands on."

The effort was made and the other two bolts were got out

ARRANGEMENT OF THE WORK.

287

The quiet
bout it con-
it tho work
remote one,

:rips of iron
leir holders;
ly the edges
ent on regu-
sd, and any
ere utilized,
would never
to her. The
mber, and a
id backward

he base and
g the whole
5t enough to
through the
heir weight
eady almost
announced

They had been roughly sharpened at the end and were fully
an inch across.

"They do not make bad weapons," Matteo said.

" It is not as weapons that we want them, Matteo. They will
be more useful to us than any weapons, except, indeed, a good
axe. We shall want at least three more. Therefore I propose
that we continue our work at once. We will divide into
watches now. It will be twelve hourr before we get our allow-
ance of bread again, therefore that will give three hours' work
and nine hours' sleep to each. They will be just setting the
first watch on deck, and, as we shall hear them changed, it will
give us a good idea how the time is passing."

" I am ready to work all night myself," Matteo said. "At
first I had not much faith in what we were doing; but now
that we have got three of these irons out, I am ready to go on
working until I drop."

"You Mnll find, Matteo, that your arms will ache so that you
cannot hold them up before the end of the three hours. Sawing
like that, with your arms above your head, is most fatiguing;
and even the short spells of work we have been having made
my arms ache. However, each must do as much as he can in
his three hours; and as we are working in the dark we must
work slowly and carefully, or we shall break our tools.'*

"Fortunately we can get more hoops off now if we iV^ant
them," Matteo said; "with these irons we can wrench them
oflF the sound casks if necessary."

"Yes; I did not think of that, Matteo. You see we are
already getting a stock of tools. Another thing is, with the
point of the irons we have got ofll' we can wrench the wood out
as fast as we saw it, and the saws will not work so stiffly as
they did before. But we must not do that till the morning,
for any sound like the breaking of wood might be heard by the
watch when everything is quiet."

I i

288

BREAKFAST.

Although all worked their best they made but slight pro-
gress in the dark, and each worker was forced to take frequent
rests, for the fatigue of working with their arms above their
heads was excessive. As soon, however, as the light began to
steal down and the movement above head told them that the
crew wore at work washing the decks, the points of the irons
were used to wrench away the wood between the saw-cuts;
and the work then proceeded briskly, as they relieved each
other every few minutes. At last, to their intense satisfaction,
three more irons were got out.

"If anyone had told me," one of the party said, "that a
man's arms could hurt as much as mine do from working a few
hours, I should have disbelieved him."

There was a chorus of assent, for none were accustomed to
hard manual labour, and the pain in their arms was excessive.

" Let us have half an hour's rest, Francis, before you issue
your next orders. I shall want that at least before I feel that
I have any power in my arms at all."

"We will have an hour's rest, Matteo, if you like. Before
that time they will be sending us down our food, and after we
have breakfasted we can set to work again."

" Breakfast!" one of the young men groaned. " I cannot call
that black bread and water breakfast. When I think of the
breakfasts I have eaten, when I think of the dishes I have
refused to eat because they were not cooked to perfection, I
groan over my folly in those days, and my enormous stupidity
in ever volunteering to come to sea."

"I should recommend you all," Francis said, "to spend the
next hour in rubbing and squeezing the muscles of your neigh-
bours* arms and shoulders. It is the best way for taking out
stiffness, and Giuseppi used to give me relief that way when I
was stitf with fencing."

The idea was adopted; and while the rest were at work in

-];

▲ VAVOVRABLE llEt>ORt.

289

5 but slight pro-
to take frequent
irms above their
he light began to
Id them that the
)int8 of the irons
sen the saw-cuts;
ley relieved each
tense satisfaction,

rty said, "that a
ora working a few

jre accustomed to
[ns was excessive.
, before you issue
before I feel that

ou like. Before
[ood, and after we

Id. " I cannot call
m I think of the

|he dishes I have
to perfection, I
lormous stupidity

|d, " to spend the
^es of your neigh-
|iy for taking out
I that way when I

were at work in

the manner he suggested, Francis, taking one of the irons, went
to the bulkhead. One by one he tried the planks from the
floor boards to the beams above.

I "Well, captain, what is your report?" Matteo asked as he
Joined the rest.

" My report is a most favourable one," Francis said. " By
great good luck the planks are nailed from the other side
Igainst the beams both above and below."

r"What difference does that make, Francisco?"
"All the difference in the world. Had they been nailed on
this side, there would have been nothing for it but to carry out
our original plan — that is, to make holes through the planks
with these irons large enough for the saws to go through, and
then to saw the wood out from hole to hole. As it is, I believe
that with five minutes' work we could wrench a plank away.
I We have only to push the points of the irons up between the
beams and the planks and use them as levers. The nails will
be strong indeed if those irons, with two of us at each, would

(I not wrench them out."
1 The young men all leapt to their feet, pains and aches quite
Worgotten in the excitement of this unexpected news, and six
Jbf them seized hold of the irons.

"Gently! " Francis said. "You must remember there may be
people going down there at present getting up stores. Before
we venture to disturb a plank we must make the hole sufficiently

V\jarge for us to spy through. This will be a very easy affair in
pibmparison with making a hole large enough for a saw to go*
through. Still you will find it will take some time. However,
we had better wait, as we agreed, till we have had our food."

(468)

II <

CHAPTER XVL

THE RECAPTURE OF THE "PLUTO."

S soon as the hatch had been removed and the bread
and water lowered down and they heard heavy
weights again laid on the hatch, two of the party
took one of the irons and began to bore a hole, while
the others proceeded to eat their food. Several times the workers
had to be relieved. The iron penetrated comparatively easily for
a short distance, but beyond that the difficulty greatly increased ;
and it was fully four hours before one of the workers, applying
his eye to the hole, said that he could see a gleam of light
through. In another quarter of an hour the orifice was suffi-
ciently enlarged to enable a view to be obtained of the central
hold. It was comparatively light there, for the hatch was off,
and they could see two men at work opening a cask for some
stores that were required.

" We must wait till it gets dark now," Francis said. " I do
not think that we shall make much noise, for the nails will be
likely to draw quietly; but we had better choose the time be-
tween nightfall and the hour for the crew to turn in, as there
will be a trampling of feet on deck and talking and singing,
which would prevent any slight noise we might make being
heard."

tweei
Matt(
"I
"The
think
enoug
Aft(
operat
could 1
until i
showec
of the 1
down u
"No
Paolo I
Matteo
the foot
and put
irons; b
got a wc
them."

It too]

tween th

"Are

AsFra

nails yiel

" It hai

keep you]

I have go

'«U'

THB PLANK YIELDS.

291

" The difficulty will be to force the ends of the iron down be-
tween the beams and the planks, so as to give us a purchase,"
Matteo said.

" I think we shall be able to manage that," Francis replied.
" The beams are put in in the rough, and if we hunt carefully I
think we shall find a plank where we can get the irons in far
enough between it and the beam to give us a hold."

After a careful examination they fixed upon a plank to
operate upon, and, leaving one of the irons there so that they
could find it in the dark, they lay down to sleep, or sat talking
until it was dark. Before this, a glance through the peep-hole
showed them that the hatch had been placed over the hatchway
of the next hold, so that there was little fear of anyone coming
down unless something special was required.

" Now I think we can begin," Francis said at last. "Do you,
Paolo Parucchi, take one of the irons, I will take another,
Matteo a third. We cannot possibly work more than three at
the foot of a plank, though perhaps when we have fixed them
and put on the strain, two or three more hands may get at the
irons; but first we will try with three, and, unless the nails have
got a wonderfully firm hold, we shall certainly be able to draw
them."

It took some time to fix the irons to the best advantage be-
tween the planks and the beam.

"Are you both ready?" Francis asked at last; "then pull."

As Francis had anticipated, the levers did their work, and the
nails yielded a little.

" It has sprung half an inch," Francis said, feeling. "Now you
keep your irons as they are, while I thrust mine down farther.
I have got a fresh hold; do you shift yours."

■■ '\ ii

292

AN ENTRANCE EFTECTED.

Again the effort was made, and this time the nails drew fully
two inches. Another effort, and the plank was comph)tely free
at the lower end.

" Now do you push against it as hard as you can," Francis
said, " while I get my iron in between it and the beam above."

The upper nails yielded even more easily than those below.

"No farther," Francis said when they had fairly started
them, " or the plank will be falling with a crash. We must
push from the bottom now until it gives sufficiently far for you
to get an iron down each side, to prevent its closing again." ■

"Now," he said, "push the irons higher up; that is right.
Now I will loosen a bit farther at the top, and then you will be
able to get your hands in at the bottom to steady it and prevent
its falling when the nails are quite drawn."

Another effort and the plank was free, and, being drawn in,
was laid down. The delight of those who were standing in the
dark, and could only judge how matters were going on from
Francis's low-spoken orders, was extreme.

" Can we get through ? " - ^,

" No," Francis replied ; " it will be necessary to remove
another plank first, but perhaps one of the slighter among you
might manage to squeeze through and hold the plank at the
back; we shall be able to work with more freedom if we know
that there is no danger of its falling." -r

In a few minutes the second plank was laid beside the first.

" What is to be done next? " Matteo asked.

" We must establish a communication with the sailors. I will
take a working party of four; Paolo Parucchi with four others
will relieve me; you, Matteo, will with the rest take the last,
spell. When we have entered the next eompartment we wi!!

C0MM17NICATI0N OPENED.

292

Francis
above." ,
below,
started
re must
for you
;ain."
is rigbt.
u will be
[ prevent

irawn in,

ng in tbe

on from

remove
long you
ik at tbe
I we know

Itbe first.

Irs. I will
|)ur otbers
tbe last.
kt we wilA

put vqp the planks again and press the nails in tightly enough
to prevent their falling. Should, by some chance, any one
descend into the hold while we are working, we shall be hidden
from their view; at the other end there are a number of sacks
piled up, and we shall be working behind them."

Francis and the men he had chosen made their way co the pile
of arms they had observed through their peep-hole, moving with
great precaution so as to avoid falling over anything. Here
with some trouble they succeeded in finding a dagger among the
heap, and they then felt their way on until they reached the pile
of sacks; these were packed to within a foot of the deck-beams,
and there was but just room for them to crawl in at the top.

"Whatever you do, do not bump against the beams," Francis
said. " Any noise of that sort from below would at once excite
attention. Now do you be quiet while I find a spot to begin
upon."

Commencing at a junction of two planks, Francis began with
the dagger to cut a hole of some three or four inches across, but
tapering rapidly as it went in. After waiting for some ten
minutes he touched the man lying next to him, placed his hand
on the hole he had begun, and then moved aside to allow him
to continue the work. In an hour a hole was made in a two-
inch plank, and this was soon enlarged until it was an inch in
diameter. Lying along the side of the bulkhead so as to get his
ear to the hole, Francis listened, but could hear no sound within;
then he put his mouth to the orifice and asked :

" Are you all asleep there ? " Then he listened again. Some
of the men were speaking, and asking each other who it was that
had suddenly spoken.

No one replied; and some of them gave vent to angry threats

1?
U i

294

ORDERS TO THE CREW.

against whoever it might be who had just disturbed them from
going off to sleep. Directly the voices ceased again Francis said:

" Let us have silence in there. Where is Einaldo, the boat-
swain?"

"I am here," a voice replied; "but who is speaking? It
sounds like the voice of Messer Hammond."

" It is my voice, Rinaldo. We have worked through from
the hold at the other end of the ship, having removed some of
the planks of the bulkhead; now it is for you to do the same.
We will pass you some daggers through when we have made
this hole a bit larger. You must choose one of the planks in the
corner, as this will be less likely to be observed."

"They will not observe us, Messer Hammond; they never
come down here at all, but pass our food down in buckets."

" Nevertheless, begin at the plank next to the side," Francis
said; "possibly some one may come down before you have
finished. You will have to remove two planks to get through.
I will pass a javelin through; you can set to work with it
and bore holes through the plank close to the floor, and then
with the dagger cut away the wood between them. When you
have done them set to at the top, close to the beams, and cut the
two planks through there. There are sacks of grain piled up
against them on this side, so that there is no fear of your being
observed from here. The work must be carried on perfectly
noiselessly, the men relieving each other every few minutes.

"When the planks are cut through replace them in their
former positions and wedge some small pieces of wood in, bO
that there shall be no chance of their falhng. You ought to
finish the work by to-morrow. When you have done it take no
farther step until you get orders from me. It would not do to

"WHAT DID I TELL YOUl"

295

a from
is said:
e boat-

ngl It

rb from
some of
le same,
^e made
ks in the

ey never

ikets."

" Francis

^ou have
through,
with it

land then
hen you
id cut the
piled up

|our being
perfectly
Minutes.

in their

^od in, i.0

ought to

tt take no

Inot do to

rise now, for we may be surrounded by other ships, and if we
overpowered the crew we should at once be attacked and re-
captured by them. You will therefore remain quiet until you
have orders, whether it be one day or ten. All the arms they
have taken from us are lying piled here, and when the time
comes we shall have no difficulty in overpowering the Genoese,
and shall, I hope, bring the Pluto safely to anchor in the port
of Venice before long." . ,

There was a murmur of delight among the sailors, pent up in
their close quarters. Francis listened a moment and heard one
of the men say: - :

" What did I tell you? Didn't I tell you that Messer Ham-
mond got us all out of a scrape before, when our ship was
captured by the Genoese, and that I would be bound he would
do the same again if he had but the shadow of a chance."

"You did, Pietro, and you have turned out right; that is the
sort of fellow to have for a captain. He is not like one of those
dainty young nobles who don't know one rope's end from
another, and who turn up their noses at the thought of dirty-
ing their hands. See how he looked after us through the
winter. I wish we could give a cheer for him, but that would
never do; but when we are out of this I will give him the
loudest shout I ever gave yet. Now then, Rinaldo, let us set
to work without a moment's delav. There's a chance we aren't
going to rot in the dungeons of Genoa after all."

Convinced that the work would be carried on in accordance
with his orders, Francis withdrew his ear from the hole, and,
crawling over the sacks again, made his way to the pile of arms,
felt about until he found two javelins, and taking these back
passed them one after the other through the hole. \ ; .^

> V: •■

396

MATTEO'S SURPRISE.

" We have done our share now," he said to hie comrades.
" Paolo and his party will find it a comparatively easy task to
enlarge the hole sufficiently to pass the daggers through."

The party returned to the other end of the hold, removed
the planks, and joined their friends. The next watch had
arranged to lie down close to the planks, so that they could be
aroused without waking the others.

They were soon on their feet. Francis explained to Pa-
rucchi the progress they had made and the orders that had
been given to the sailors as to what they were to do. "When
the hole is large enough pass these five daggers in to the crew,
and then come back again. I will guide you to the spot, and
on my return will pick out half-a-dozen more daggers in case
we want them for further work."

When daylight made its way into the hold Matteo and his
watch woke, and were astonished to find that all their comrades
were quietly asleep, and that they had not been awakened.
Matteo could not restrain his curiosity, but woke Francis:

"Has anything gone wrong, Francis? It is daylight, and
Parucchi's party as well as yours are all asleep, while we have
not been roused ! "

" Everything is going on well, Matteo, and we did not wake
you because there was nothing for you to do. We have
already passed in knives and javelins to the sailors, and they
aie at work cutting through two planks in their bulkhead;
after which we shall be able to meet in the next hold, arm our-
selves, and fall upon the Genoese when the opportunity offers."

"That is excellent indeed, Francis; but I wish you had let
us do our share of the work."

" It did not take us more than two hours, Matteo, to make

>mradeiS.
task to
h."

-emoved
tch had
jould be

to Pa-
hat had

"When
he crew,
pot, and
} in case

and his
omrades
^akened.
cis:

5ht, and
ve have

at wake
'e have
ad they
Ikhead;
rm our-
offers."
ad let

make

"THAT WILL DEPEND, MATTEO."

297

a hole big enough to pass the javelins through, and I should
say Parucchi's party enlarged it sufficiently to hand in the
daggers in another hour; so you see it would have been useless
to have aroused you, and the less movement we make after
they get quiet at night the better."
9 " And how long will the sailors be cutting it through, do

you think?"

" I should say they would be ready by this time, Matteo, but
certainly they will be finished some time to-day."

" Then we shall soon be free ! " Matteo exclaimed joyfully.

"That will depend, Matteo. We must wait till there is a
good opportunity, so that we can recapture the ship without
an alarm being given to the other vessels which are no doubt
I sailing in company with us. And now, if you have nothing to
say, I will go oflf to sleep again, for there is time for another
i hour or two. I feel as if I had not quite finished my night's
rest, and the days pa,is so slowly here that it is as well for us
to sleep when we feel the least inclination.

"By the way, Matteo, put something into that peep-hole
we made. It is possible that they might see the light through
it, and come to examine what it is; it is better to run no risk."

That day the captives were far more restless than they had
been since they were taken prisoners. At first there had been
a feeling of depression, too great to admit even of conversation
with each other. The defeat of their fleet, the danger that
threatened Venice, and the prospect of imprisonment in the
gloomy dungeons of Genoa combined to depress them on the
first day of their imprisonment. On the second their success
in getting out the bolts had cheered them, and they had some-
thing to look forward to and talk about; but still, few of theva.

3 fi

lili

298

"WHAT ARE WE TO DOT

thought that there was any real prospect of their obtaining
their freedom. Now, however, that success seemed to lie
ready to hand, now that they could that very evening remove
the sacks, effect a junction with their crew, arm themselves
with the weapons lying in sight, and rush up and overpower
the Genoese, it seemed hard to remain longer in confinement.

Several of them urged Francis to make the attempt that
night, but he refused.

" You reckon only on the foe you see," he said ; " the danger
lies not from them, but from the foes we cannot see. We must
wait for an opportunity."

" But no opportunity may occur," one of them urged.

"That is quite possible," Francis agreed; "but should no
special opportunity occur, we shall be none the worse for
having waited, for it will always be as open to us to make
the attempt as it is to-night. It might succeed — possibly
we could overpower the guard on deck before they could give
the alarm — but the risk is too great to be run until we are cer-
tain that no other way is open to us. In the daylight the hatch
is open; but even could we free our comrades and unite for a
rush unobserved — which we could hardly hope to do — we
should find the whole of the Genoese on deck, and could not
possibly overpower them before they had time to give the
alarm to other vessels. At night, when we can unite, we
cannot gain the deck, for the hatch is not only closed, but
would almost certainly be fastened, so that men should not
get down to pilfer among the stores."

" But if we cannot attack in the daytime, Messer Hammond,
without giving the alarm, and cannot attack at all at night,
what are we to do?"

THE NEXT STEP TOWARDS FREEDOM.

299

" That is the next point to be seen to," Francis replied. " Wo
must cut, either from this hold or from the other, a way up to
the deck above. It may take us some days to do this, but
that matters little, we have plenty of time for the work before
reaching Genoa. The difficulty is not in the work itself, but
in doing it unobserved."

"That is difficult indeed," Matteo said, "seeing that the
Genoese sailors are quartered in the forecastle above the fore-
hold, while the officers will be in the cabins in the poop over us."

" That is so, Matteo, and for that reason it is clear that it is
we, not the sailors, who must cut through the planks above.
There are no divisions in the forecastle, and it will be therefore
absolutely impossible to cut through into it without being
perceived long before a hole is made of a sufficient size to
enable us to get out. Here we may succeed better, for fortu-
nately we know the exact plan of the cabins above us, and can
choose a spot where we should not be likely to be noticed."

" That is so," Matteo agreed, " and as they will not have as
many officers as we had — that is, including the volunteers —
some of the cabins will not be occupied. Perhaps by listening
to the footsteps above we might find out which are vacant."

"I thought of that, Matteo, but I doubt whether it would
be well to rely upon that. Many on board ship wear soft
shoes which make but little noise, and it would be fatal to us
were we to make a mistake. After thinking it over I have
decided that we had best try to cut a way up into the captain's
cabin."

"But that is sure to be occupied, Messer Hammond," Pa-
rucchi said.

"Yes, it will be certainly be occupied; but it affords a good

! !l

.IL--J

300

"WE CJLS BEGIN AT ONCE."

opportunity of success. As you know, Parucchi, Carlo Bottini
had been a long time at Constantinople and the Eastern ports,
and had a somewhat luxurious taste. Do you not remember
that against the stern windows he had caused to be erected a
low wide seat running across the cabin; this he called a divan,
and spent no small proportion of his time lolling upon it. If
I am right, its height was from ten inches to a foot above the
deck, and it was fully four feet wide. It would therefore be
quite possible to cut through the two planks at the back
without its being observed by anyone in the cabin."

There was a chorus of assent.

"Of course we must work most cautiously," Francis went
on. "The wood must be cut out with clean cuts with the
daggers, there must be no sawing or scraping; the beams are
two feet apart, and we must cut through two planks close to
them. In that way there will be no nails to remove. Of
course we shall not cut quite through until the time arrives
for us to make the attempt, but just leave enough to hold the
planks together; half an hour's work will get through that;
for if we were to cut through it at once, not only would there
be risk of the hole being discovered by anyone sweeping the
cabin, but wc should be obliged to remain absolutely silent, or
we should be heard immediately."

"We can begin at once, can we not?" Matteo asked. "Any-
thing is better than sitting quietly here."

"Certainly, Matteo, if you wish. Two can work at once,
one on each line. Choose the two sharpest -edged of the
daggers, and be sure to cut clean and not to make a scraping
noise or to try to break out pieces of wood. The work must
be done in absolute quiet; indeed, however careful you are it

THE OPPORTUNITY ARRIVSS.

SOI

Bottini
1 ports,
aember
acted a
, divan,
it. If
Dve the
fore be
le back

is went
ith the
a,ms are
close to
ve. Of

arrives
old the

1 that;
d there
ing the

ent, or

"Any-

it once,
of the
craping
:k must
are it

is possible that some slight sound may be heard above, but, if
noticed, it will probably be taken for the rats."

Matteo and another of the young men at once fell to work;
but it was not until the evening of the following day that cuts
were made as deep as was considered prudent. The depth of
wood remaining was tested by thrusting the point of a dagger
through, and it was decided that little more than a quarter of
an inch remained.

Upon the following day the ship anchored and remained for
two days in some port; provisions were brought on board and
carried down into the hold, and the prisoners had no doubt
that they were in harbour on the coast of either Sicily or the
south of Italy. They had not set sail many hours when the
motion of the ship told them that the wind was getting up,
and by night the vessel was rolling heavily, the noise made by
the dashing of the water against her planks being so great that
those below could scarcely hear each other speak. Their spirits
had risen with the increase of the motion, for the opportunity for
which they had been waiting was now at hand; in a gale the
vessels would keep well apart from each other to prevent the
danger of a collision, and any outcry would be drowned by the
noise of the wind and water.

Each night Francis had paid a visit to the sailors forward, to
enjoin patience until he should give them the order for making
the attempt. They had long since cut through the planks,
which were only retained in their place by the pressure of the
sacks behind them. He had bade them be in readiness on the
first occasion on which rough weather might set in, and knew
that they would now be expecting the signal.

As soon then as it became dark, and the hatch over the

I III

iifpf

' !l

THE ATTEMPT.
302 emoved and rrancis

middle hold ^ cloBed. *« P;;J; ""^^^ ,,„ks in the comer
and his party »et to work sh tog ^^^^ ^^^„ „p

there the sailor, had cut the v^^^ ^^^^^^ ,,, ,ughtest
,„d placed against the p le to^h« ^^ .^ ^^^ „

noise, nntil at la«t all -je -"» ^^,, ,,,ried out mto *e
the planks being taken down^ ^^^^^ ^^ ^j^^^y been

hold. Francis entered the gap^ ^^_^^ .^ey were to

Wormed that the occas>onW com. , .

remain perfectly n^f-^^'^te entered. "BinaWo. do you
.. All is prepared." he sa d a^h ^ ^^^^ ^^„,, t

see that the men come »»' J"; J ^„d ^e will he then led
, weapon will be placed ^-^l^;^^^^ ;, t.ee horn encrun-
to the starboard side of the hoW, ^^.^^^ ^^^^^^ ^ „„,«

teance. and will *'"'^Vt"t, lightest noise must be made.

further. Remember that n^ he sh^ ^^^ ^^^^ ^^,

for if any stumbled and fell and ^^ ^j^. j^^^ j,„^

might be thought that some of the ^ ^^^^^

their places, and men would be se ^.^^^^

thi alarm would be given. -^ a hgh^ ^^^.^^„,, After
thl other ships before we co^d ove^o ^^^^ ^„ ,^^,

to remain there i"'

arrangements." , „ere all armed and ready for actron

As soon a« the sadors «'« ''^ j^^^^^o and another had

F«.cis entered the a^-hold; "^^« ^^^.y y^

Ln engaged in »"'"^ ^^^t Id them, and had quiet^
j^t completed the task when her ^^.^ ^^ .^eady given

'removed the two pieces of P^"''^ ^„,^ the order m

. his orders to his compam^s. and ^^^ ,^

which ihey were to ascend. A

/' 11

THE captain's CABIN.

303

r
P

oi
be
>en
to

you

out

lied

iciun-
move
made,
pibove,
from

them;
shown
Aiter
have
ete our

r action
blier bad
'bey had
d quietly
idy given
order iu
ted down

from the hole. Two of his comrades lifted Francis so that
his head was above the level of the hole, and he was enabled
to see into the cabin. So far as he could tell it was untenanted,
but it was possible that the commander might be on the divan
above him. This was not, however, likely, as in the gale that
was now blowing he would probably be on deck directing the
working of the ship.

Francis now gave the signal, and the others raised him still
further, until he was able to get his weight upon the deck
above, and he then crawled along underneath the divan, and
lay there quiet until Parucchi and Matteo had both reached
the deck; then he gave the word and all three rolled out and
leaped to their feet, with their daggers in their hands in readi-
ness to fall upon the captain should he be on the divan. As
they had hoped and expected, the cabin was untenanted. The
other volunteers now joined them, the last giving the word to
Kinaldo, who soon passed up followed by the crew, until the
cabin was as full as it could contain. There were now as-
sembled some fifty men closely packed together.

" That is ample," Francis said, " as they will be unarmed
and unprepared. We can issue out singly until the alarm is
given, and then those that remain must rush out in a body.
Simply knock them down with the hilts of your swords. There
is no occasion to shed blood unless in the case of armed resis-
tance; but remember they will have their knives in their
girdles, and do not let any one take you by surprise."

Opening the door Francis walked along a passage, and then
through an outer door into the waist of the ship. The wind
was blowing fiercely, but the gale was not so violent as it had
appeared to them when confined below. The night was dark,

i ;!

;(

304

tHB SURPRI8&

but after a week's confinement below his eyes were able easily
to make out almost every object on deck. There were but
few sailors in the waist ; the officers would be on the poop, and
such of the crew as were not required on duty in the fore-
castle. Man after man joined him until some thirty were
gathered near the bulwarks. An officer on the poop caught sight
of them by the light of the lantern which was suspended there
as a signal to the other vessels.

" What are all you men doing down there?" he challenged.
" There is no occasion for you to keep on deck until you are
summoned."

"Do you move forward with the men here, Parucchi; knook
down the fellows on deck, and rush into the fore-castle and
overpower them there before they can get up their arms. I will
summon the rest in a body and we will overpower the officers."

He ran back to the cabin door and bade the men follow him.
As they poured out there was a scuffle on the deck forward,
and the officer shouted out again :

" What is going on there 1 What does all this mean 1 "

Francis sprang up the ladder to the poop, followed by his
men, and before the officer standing there undorBtood the
meaning of this sudden rush of men, or had time to draw his
sword, he was knocked down. The captain and three other
officers who were standing by the helm drew their swords and
rushed forward, thinking there was a mutiny among their crew;
but Francis shouted out:

" Throw down your weapons all of you. We have retaken
the ship, and resistance is useless and will only cost you your
Uves."

The officers stood stupefied with astonishment; and then i

'*THERE AKE SIXTEEN LIGHTS.*

300

iken
lyour

ing that fully twenty armed men were opposed to them, they
threw down their owords. Francis ordered four of the sailors
to conduct them to the captain's cabin, and remain in guard
over them; then with the rest he hurried forward to assist
Parucchi's party. But the work was already done ; the Genoese,
taken completely by surprise, had at once surrendered as the
armed party rushed in the forecastle, and the ship was already
theirs. As soon as the prisoners were secured, the after-hatch
was thrown off, and those whose turn to crawl up through the
hole had not yet arrived came up on deck.

" Rinaldo," Francis said, as soon as the crew had fallen into
their places, "send a man aloft and let him suddenly knock
out the light in the lantern."

" But we can lower it down, captain, from the deck."

" Of course we can, Rinaldo, but I don't want it lowered
down, I want it put suddenly out."

Rinaldo at once sent a man up, and a minute later the light
suddenly disappeared.

" If we were seen to lower it down," Francis said to Matteo,
" the suspicions of those who noticed it would be at once
aroused, for the only motive for doing so would be conceal-
ment, whereas now if it is missed it will be supposed that the
wind has blown it out. Now we have only to lower our sails
and we can drop unobserved out of the fleet."

" There are sixteen lights, I have just been counting them,"
Matteo said.

" These are probably the fourteen galleys captured with us,
and two galleys as guards in case on their way they should
fall in with any of our ships. Parucchi, will you at once
muster the men, and see that all are armed and in readiness

(46S) u

306 "I AM GOING TO LAY THE SHIP ALONGSIDE."

for fighting. Matteo, do you and some of your friends assist
the lieutenant."

In a few minutes Parucchi reported that the men were all
ready for action.

" Rinaldo, brail up the sails so that we may drop into the
rear of the squadron ; watch the lights of the vessels behind,
and steer so that they shall pass us as widely as possible."

This was the order the men were expecting to receive, but
they were surprised when, just as the last light was abreast of
them, Francis gave the order for the brails to be loosed again.

" Signor Parucchi, do you tell off fifty men. I am going to
lay the ship alongside that vessel and recapture her; they will
not see us until we are close on board, and will suppose it is
an accident when we run alongside. No doubt they, like the
Fluto, have only a complement of fifty men, and we shall over-
power them before they are prepared to offer any resistance.
No doubt they have prisoners below. Immediately wo have
recaptured her I shall return on board with the rest, leaving
you with your fifty men in charge of her. As soon as you have
secui'ed the Genoese, free any prisoners there may be in the
ht' J. I shall keep close to you, and you can hear me, and
tel. me how many there are."

The Fluto was now edged away till she was close to the
other ship. The crew, exulting in having turned the tables on
the Genoese fe-nd at the prospect of recovering another of the
jost galleys, clustered in the! waist grasping their arms. The
i^hip was not perceived until she was within her own length of
the other, then there was a sudden hail:

" Where are you coming to? Keep away, or you will be into
us. Why don't you show your light?"

•1

A SUCCESSFUL SURPRISIL

307

assist
re all

to the
ehind,

re, but

east of

again.

oing to

tey will

»se it is

like the

ill over-

iistance.
e have
leaving

|ou have
in the
le, and

to the

ihles on

of the

The

^ngth of

be into

Francis shouted back some indistinct answei. Binaldo
pushed down the helm, and a minute later the Pluto ran along-
side the other vessel. Half a dozen hands told off for the
work sprang into her rigging, and lashed the vessels together,
while Francis, followed by the crew, climbed the bulwarks and
sprang on to the deck of the enemy.

Scarce a blow was struck. The Genoese, astonished at this
sudden apparition of armed men on their deck, and being en-
tirely unarmed and unprepared, either ran down below or
shouted they surrendered, and in two minutes the Venetians
were masters of the vessel.

"Back to the Pluto" Francis shouted; "the vessels will tear
their sides out!"

Almost as suddenly as they had invaded tho decks of the
galley the Venetians regained their own vessel, leaving the
lieutenant with his fifty men on board the prize. Ihe lashings
were cut, the Pluto's helm put up, and she sheered away from
her prize. Her bulwarks were broken and splintered where
she had ground against the other vessel in the sea, and Rinaldo
soon reported that some of the seams had opened and the
water was coming in.

"Set the carpenter and some of the hands to work to
caulk the seams as well as they can from the inside, and set a
gang to work at the pumps at once. It is unfortunate that it
is blowing so hard. If the wind had gone down instead of
rising, we would have recaptured the whole fleet one by one."

The Pluto was kept within a short distance of the captured
vessel, and Parucchi presently shouted out that he had freed
two hundred prisoners.

"Arm. them at oucel" Francis shouted bacV "Extinguish

i r

308

DISMASTED.

your light and board the vessel ■r'^hose light you see on your
starboard bow; I will take the one to port. When you have
captured her, lower tho sails of both vessels; I will do the
same. You wiU keep a little head sail set, so as to keep them
before the wind; but do not show more than you can help. I
wish the rest of the fleet to outrun us as soon as possible."

The Pluto sheered off from the prize and directed her course
towards the vessel nearest to her, which she captured as easily
as she had done the preceding; but this time not only were her
bulwarks stove in, but the chain-plates were carried away; and
the main-mast, no longer supported by its shrouds, fell over the
ifeide with a crash.

This vessel had but a hundred prisoners on board. They were
wild with astoT ishment and delight when they found that their
vessel had been lecaptured. Francis told them to keep by him
through the night, as possibly he might need their assistance.

For some hours the gale increased ; the Pluto lay head to it,
her mast serving as a floating anchor. As soon as the lights
of the Genoese squadron disappeared in the distance Francis
hoisted a lantern on his main-mast, as a signal to the other
vessels to keep near him.

As soon as day broke, the galley they had last recaptured
was seen half a mile away while the two others could be made
out some six miles to leeward. The gale died out soon after
daybreak, and Francis at once set his crew to work to get the
mast on board, and to ship 't hy its stump.

It was a difficult undertaking, for the vessel was rolling
heavily. It was first got alongside, two ropes were passed
over it, and it was parbucjvled on board. Shears were made
of two spars, and the end was placed against the stump, which

THE FOUK (J ALLEYS.

309

on your
^ou have
. do the
)ep them
help. I
ble."
er course
as easily
were her
vay; and
. over the

projected six feet . bo"'e the deck. By the aid of the shears it
was hoisted erect and lashed to the stump, wedges were driven
in to tighten the lashings, and it was then firmly stayed; and
by the afternoon it was in readiness for sail to be hoisted again.
By this time Parucchi, with the vessel he had captured, was
alongside. The Lion of St. Mark was hoisted to the main-
mast of the PlutOf and threa similar banners were run up by
the other vessels, the crews shouting and cheering with wild
enthusiasm.

["hey were
that their
ep by him
isistance.
icad to it,
the lights
,e Francis
the other

•*c

eci

aptured
be made

soon

after

get the

'r?.- V .»,

rolling

rere

made
which

CHAPTER XVn.

AN UNGRATEFUL REPUBLia

T is glorious, Francis," Matteo said, "to think tktt
we should have recaptured four of our ships!"

"It is very good as far as it goes," Francis
replied, "but it might have been a great deal
better. If it hadn't been for the storm we might have picked
them all up one by one. Each vessel we took the stronger we
became, and I had calculated upon our capturing the greater
number; but in such a sea I don't think we could possibly
capture more than we did."

"I should thirk not," Matteo said. "I had never dreamt of
doing more than recovering the Pluto^ and when you first talked
about that it seemed almost like madness. I don't think one
of us had the slightest belief in the possibility of the thing
when you first proposed it."

" I thought it was to be managed somehow," Francis said.
"It would have been a shame indeed if a hundred and fifty
men were to be kept prisoners for a fortnight o»* three weeks
by a third of their number."

" Well, certainly no one would have thought of making the
attempt if you had not proposed it, Francis. I believe even
if you were to propose our sailing north and capturing Genoa,

dl
hj

n(
tol

HOMEWARD BOUND.

811

nk tWt

ps!"
Francis

eat deal
e picked
)nger we
3 greater
possibly

Hreamt of
pst talked
ihink one
the thing

Lncis said.

land fifty

ree weeks

[aking the
lieve even ^
ig Genoa,

there is not a man on board but would follow you willingly,
with the firm conviction that you would succeed."

" In that case, Matteo," Francis said, laughing, " it is very
lucky for you that I am not at all out of my mind. Signal now
to Parucchi to lower his boats and come on board with our
men. We may fall in yet with another Genoese squadron, and
may as well have our full complement on board, especially as
Parucchi has found two hundred men already on board the
vessel we captured."

Parucchi and his men soon transferred themselves to the
Pluto, and the four vessels hoisted their sails and made for the
south. They had learned from their captives that the squadron
had already passed through the Straits of Messina, and that
it was at Messina they had stopped and taken in provision
two days before. Indeed, when, late in the afternoon, the sky
cleared and the sun shone out, they saw the mountains of
Calabria on their left. Learning from the captives that no
Genoese vessels had been seen in the straits as they passed
through, Francis did not hesitate to order the course to be
shaped for the straits instead of sailing round Sicily, as he would
have done had there been any chance of falling in with a hos-
tile squadron in passing between the islands and the mainland.

" I should like to have seen the face of the commander of
the Genoese squadron this morning," Matteo said, "when he
discovered that four of his vessels w«?re missing. He can hardly
have supposed that they were lost, for although the wind was
strong it blew nearly dead aft, and there was nothing of a gale
to endanger well-handled ships. I almost wonder that he did
not send back the two fully manned galleys he had with him
to search for us." _. .- -

!i*

li^

il-:

IpI

-4

312

A RAFTUBOUS RECEPTION.

■'I'

"Perhaps he did," Francis said; "but he would have been
a hundred miles further north by daybreak, and it would have
taken him a couple of days to get back to where we were
lying."

No hostile sail was seen during the voyage back to Venice.
Francis remained in com tp and of the little squadron, for the
captains and many of the superior officers had been transferred
to the galley of the officer in command of the squadron, and
Francis happened to be the only second officer on board any of
the four ships.

Great care was observed when they, approached Venice, as,
for aught they knew, Doria's squadron might be blockading the
port. The Genoese fleet, however, was stiU cruising on the
coast of Dalmatia, capturing port after port of the Venetian pos-
sessions there. The four vessels passed through the channel of
the Lido with their colours flying.

When first observed from the watch-tower of Venice they were
supposed to form part of the squadron of Zeno, but as soon as
they cast anchor, and the news spread that they were four of
Pisani's galleys which had been recaptured from the Genoese
the delight of the population was immense. The ships were
speedily surrounded by a fleet of boats, containing relatives
and friends of those taken prisoners at the battle of Polo,
and the decks were crowded with persons inquiring after
their friends, or embracing with delight those whom they had
an hour before believed to be either dead or immured in the
dungeons of Genoa. / - - - •

One of the first to appear was Polani, who had early
lecei^'ed the news by a swift boat from one of his ships in the
port that the Fluto was one of the vessels entering the harbour.

"HOW DID IT ALL COME ABOUT 1"

313

a been
id have
e were

Venice,
for the
isferred
'on, and
i any ot

mice, as,
,ding the
r on the
jtian pos-
lannel of

hey were
Is soon as
■e four of
Genoese
lips were
relatives
of Polo,
ing after
they had
sd in the

lad early

^ps in the

harbour.

"What miracle is this, Francis?" he asked, as he warmly
embraced bis young friend.

" Not a miracle at all, Messer Polani. The Genoese fancied
that a guard of fifty men was amply sufficient to keep a
hundred and fifty Venetians captives, and we taught them
their mistake."

" It wasn't we," Matteo put in, as he shook hands with his
kinsman. " We had no more idea of escaping than we had of
flying; the whole thing was entirely the work of Francisco here."

" I might have been sure the Genoese would not keep you
long, Francisco," Polani said; "and the girls and I might have
spared ourselves the pain of fretting for you. But how did it
all come about?"

" If you will take me to the Piazza in your gondola I will
tell you all about on the way," Francis replied; "for, absurd
as it seems, I am the senior officer of the squadron, and must,
1 suppose, report to the council what has happened."

"Take me too, kinsman," Matteo said; "I know Francisco
30 well that I am quite sure that of himself he will never tell
the facts of this affair, and will simply say that we broke out,
avoiding all mention of his share in it, and how it was that
under his orders we recaptured the other ships."

"I think that a very good plan, Matteo; so do you come
with us, and you shall tell me all about it instead of my hearing
it from Francis, and I will take care the council know the
truth of the matter."

" The admiral got safely back, I hope ?" Francis asked. "We
saw that his galley, with five others, broke through the Genoese
fleet and got safely away, but of couise we knew not whether
the brave admiral was hiiQsell hurti" •, .

314

PISANI IMPRISIONED.

"He arrived here safely," Polani replied; "but knowing
the Venetians as you do you will be scarcely surprised to hear
that he has been sentenced to six months' imprisonment for
losing the battle."

"But that is shameful," Francis exclaimed indignantly. "I
heard from our captain, who was present at the council, that
Pisani was opposed to fighting, and that he was only overruled
by the proveditors. It is shameful. I will go on shore and
make my report, and then I will come back to you, for I swear
that not another blow will I strike on behalf of the republic as
long as Pisani is in prison."

" It is a bad business, my lad," Polani said ; " but you know
that Pisani, popular as he is with the people, has few friends
among the nobles. They are jealous of his fame and popu-
larity, and, to say the truth, he has often irritated them by his
bluntness and his disregard for their opinion and rank, conse-
quently they seized upon his defeat as an occasion for accusing
him, and it was even a question in the council of taking his life,
and he may be considered fortunate in getting off with the
sentence of six months' imprisonment. I do not think he will
have to remain very long in confinement. We may expect the
Genoese fleet here in a few days, for the Paduan army is
already moving, as we heard last night; no doubt it is going to
co-operate with the fleet. Once the danger presses, the populace
will demand Pisani's release. There have already been demon-
strations, and shouts of 'Viva Pisani!' have been raised in the
Piazza. At any rate, Francis, let me advise you most strongly
not to suffer any expression of your feelings concerning him
to escape you before the council. I need scarcely say it
would do no good to the admiral, and would set the whole of

BEFORE THE GOUNOlU

516

knowing
i to hear
ment for

itly. "I
ncil, that
overruled
jhore and
T I swear
epublic as

yon know
w friends
md popu-
em by his
nk, conse-
r accusing
ig his life,
with the
ik he will
sxpect the
. army is
3 going to
5 populace
5n demon-
sed in the
strongly
ning him
y say it
whole of

his enemies against you. It is no affair of yours if the gover-
nors of Venice behave ungratefully to one who deserves well
at their hands, and you have made more than enough enemies
by mingling in my affairs without drawing upon yourself more
foes by your championship of Pisani."

"I will, of course, follow your counsel," Francis said; "but
I will certainly serve the state no more until Pisani is freed."

Several of the councillors were already assembled on hearing
the strange news that four of the ships which had been captured
by the Genoese had entered port. Francis, on announcing his
errand, was at once shown in to them. Polani accompanied
him, explaining his presence to the council by saying :

" I have ventured, signors, to accompany my young friend

■ here in order that I may give you a much further detail of the

affair in which he has been engaged than you are likely to

hear from his own lips. I have just come on shore from his

ship, the Pluio, and have heard the story from my kinsman,

i Matteo Giustiniani."

" We have surely seen this young gentleman before, Messer
Polani?" one of the council said.

" You have, signor," Polani replied. " You may remember
hat he greatly distinguished himself at the fight of Antium,
was sent home by the admiral with his despatches, and had
the honour of receiving from you the thanks of the republic
and the gift of citizenship."

"I remember now," the councillor said; and a murmur of
assent from the others showed that they also recalled the
circumstance. " Is he again the bearer of despatches from the
officer in command of the little squadron which, as it seems,
has just, by some miracle, entered the port; and how is it

i \

316

FRANrTS TELLS HIS STORY.

that the ofScer did not present himself in person before
usl"

" The officer has presented himself," Polani said. " Messer
Hammond is in command of the four ships which have just
arrived. Not only is he in command by virtue of senior rank, but
it is to him that their recapture from the Genoese is entirely due."

There was a murmur of incredulity from the circle of coun-
cillors, but Polani went on quietly.

" It may seem well-nigh impossible to you, signors, but what
I say is strictly true. If Messer Hammond will first relate to
you the broad facts of the recapture of the ships I will furnish
you with such details as he may omit."

Francis then briefly related the events which had led to the
capture of the four galleys. He explained that by the death of
the captain he, as second officer, succeeded to the command of
the PlutOy and that afterwards being captured by the Genoese,
Signor Parucchi, the sole other surviving officer, and ten gen-
tlemen belonging to noble families and serving as volunteers
on board the Pluto, were confined in one hold of that ship on
her voyage as a pnze to Genoa, the crew being shut up in the
other; that by working at night they had effected a junction
with the crew, and choosing a stormy night when any noise
that might be made would not be heard on board the ship,
they made their way up to the deck above through a hole they
had cut in the planks, and overpowered the Genoese almost
without resistance; that they had then in the darkness ran
alongside another of the ships and captured her with equal
ease, and Parucchi, with a portion of the crew of the Pluto and
the Venetian prisoners on board that ship had retaken a third,
while the Pluto had captured a fourth. v .' ^■■''

POLANI FILLS UP THE DETAILS.

317

n before

led to the
le death of
mmand of
Genoese,
ten gen-
jrolunteers
at ship on
up in the
junction
any noise
the ship,
hole they
ise almost
kness ran
ith equal
FMo and
n a third,

• " It may seem to you, signers," Francis concluded, " that we
might in the same way have recaptured the rest of our ships,
and it was a bitter disappointment to me that we failed to do
so; but the storm was so high and the sea so rough that it was
only with the greatest danger and difficulty that ships could
lie alongside each other. The bulwarks of all four vessels were
greatly damaged, and the Fluto lost her foremast while along-
side the last ship we captured, and as the storm was increasing
rather than abating we were, to our great chagrin, obliged to let
the rest escape, since in striving for more we might have lost
not only our lives but the vessels we had taken."

"This is indeed a most notable achievement, Messer Hammond,
and the restoration of four ships and their crews at the present
moment is of great importance to the republic, threatened as she
is with invasion by land and sea. Now, Messer Polani, if you will
give us the full details of which you spoke we shall be glad."

Polani then related to the council the full story of the means
by which the crew of the Fluto had gained their liberty, show-
ing how the recapture was entirely due to the initiative of
Francis, and to the ingenuity with which he overcame all diffi-
culties. He ended by saying :

" My kinsman, Matteo, said that should you doubt whether
this account is not tinged ])y his friendship and partiality for
Messer Hammond, Signor Parucchi and all the gentlemen who
were confined with them in the hold can substantiate the
account that he has given. He said that Parucchi's evidence
would be all the more valuable since he and the other officers
were in the first place much prejudiced against Messer Ham-
mond, deeming it an indignity that one so young, and a
foreigner by birth, should be appointed to the command over

318

FRANCIS REFUSES COMMAND.

the heads of others, Vonotian born, of good family, and his
seniors in age. The circumstances which I have related to
you have, however, completely altered his opinion, and he is
as enthusiastic with respect to Messer Hammond's conduct ab
are my kinsman and all on board the ship."

" I remember now," one of the council said, " that we had a
letter from the admiral in the spring, and that when describing
how terribly the crews had been diminished and weakened by
the severity of the winter, he said that the sole exception was
the Pluto, whose crew was kept up to their full strength and in
excellent health, owing entirely to the care and attention that
Messer Hammond, the officer second in command, had bestowed
upon them."

" Thanks, Messer Polani," the president of the council said,
"for the light you have thrown on this matter. Messer Ham-
mond, it is difficult to over-estimate the servicCii that you have
rendered to the state. We shall at an early day decide in
what manner most fitly to reward them, and in the meantime
you will remain in command of the squadron you have
brought in."

Francis returned thanks for the promise of the president,
but expressed his desire to resign the command of the squadron
at once.

"I am in business," he said, "with Messer Polani, and
although for a short time I abandoned commerce in order to
sail under Admiral Pisani, I now, from various reasons, desire,
as soon as my successor is appointed, to return to my work
with Signor Polani. I desire to recommend warmly to your
excellencies Signor Parucchi, who is, except myself, the sole
r9iT>'::^mng officer of the Pluto. He seconded me most admirably

AMONG FRIENDa

919

Knd his
iated to
id he is
iduct ab

re had a
iscribing
ened by
bion was
ih and in
ion that
lestowed

icil said,
er Ham-
ou have
ecide in
eantime
u have

Resident,
luadron

in our enterprise, and himself commanded at the recapture
of one of the ships. The gontlcmon vohiiiteors also worked
with the greatest energy and spirit. Matteo Giustiniani has
been acting as third ofliicer, and to him also the thanks
of the repuhlio are due."

. On leaving the ship Messer Polatii had despatched a boat to
carry to his house the news that Francis had returned, and
when they came back from the palace they found Giulia
anxiously expecting them, and a few minutes latei Matteo
arrived with his brother Rufino, and Maria. The latter was
far more effusive in her greeting of Francis than Giulia had
been.

" Matteo hap. been telling us all about it, Francis, and that
he and everyone else owed their es( ipe from the dungeons of
Genoa entirely to your cleverness."

" Not so much to his cleverness, Maria," Matteo corrected,
"although he is wonderful in inventing things, but to his
energy, determination, and steadfastness. There was not
one of us but regai led a visit to the dungeons of Genoa as a
foregone conclusion, and when Francis spoke of our recaptur-
ing the Phito p.d if it were the easiest and most natural thing in
the world, ii was as much as we could do not to laugh in his face.
However, he set about it as quietly and calmly as if he were
carrying on the regular work of a ship. We gradually caught
some of his spirit, and when we began to see that there was a
method in his madness did our best to carry out his orders."

"It is wonderful," Maria said; "and do you know, Francisco,
that when we first knew yon, after you had rescued us from
the attack on the canal, I a))sulutely thought that though you
were brave and straightforwai'd and honourable, yet that by

Hmywfrf II-3S

ill

320

FHANCIS EXPLAINS.

the side of our own people of your age you were rather stupid;
and ever since then I have been learning how mistaken I was."

Francis laughed. " I think your estimate of me was correct
enough," he said. "You see people are often f:tupid one way
and sharp another. Matteo will tell you I was far behind most
of those in the seminary in learning lessons, and certainly when
i^. came to talking and bandying jokes I had no chance at all.
i. suppose that every lady I have ever spoksn to when I
have been with you at entertainments has thought me excep-
tionally stupid; and I am sure I am in most things, only I
suppose I have got a fair share of common sense and a habit
of thinking for myself. There was no cleverness at all in any-
thing that Matteo is telling you of. It was just the same here
rs it was when I was i:n* that cell near Tunis. I wanted to get
oat. I supposed there mufit be some way out if I could but
discover it, and so I sat down to thinl; how it was to bt done;
and of course, after trying in my mind every possible scheme,
I hit upon the right one. There certainly was nothing clever
m that."

"But I have heard nothing about it yet," Giulia caid; "and
everyone else seeniS to know how it was done."

" Matteo, do you tell Giulia," Maria ordered. " I have lots
of questions to ask Francis."

"By the way, Francis," Messer Polani said, "you will be
glad to hear that I have succeeded in getting home your man
Giuseppi. He returned two days ago, and I have no doubt is
somewhere beiow waiting to see you."

" I will go and see him at once/' Francis said, hurrying away.
" I am indeed glad to know that you have rescued him."

Maria laughed as the door closed behind Francis. " There,

"HE IS QUITE RIGHT, MARIA.**

321

her stupid;
ken I was."
was correct
id one way
lehlnd most
tainly when
lance at all.
to when I
b me excep-
ngs, only I
a,nd a habit
b all in any-
e same here
rnted to get
I could but
to bto done;
L le scheme,
hing clever

caid; "and

1 1 have lots

^^ou will be

your man

10 doubt is

[ying away,
'lim."
"There,

Rufino," she said, turning to him, " you pret )nd sometimes to
be jealous of Francisco Hammond; and i-nere you see, just
when I have said I have lots of questiciis to ask him, and five
minutes ifter my arrival here to greet him, he races away
without a word directly he hears that his man Giusoppi has
returned."

"And he is quite right, Maria," Matteo said indignantly.
" Giuseppi would give his life for Francisco, and the two have
been together every day for the last six or seven years. I don't
doubt the faithful fellow is crying with joy now. Francisco is
quite right not to keep him waiting for a minute."

" Perhaps I cried for joy too. Master Matteo," Maria said.

"I believe I did see tears in your eyes, Maria; but I put
them down to my own account. You would naturally be
delighted to know that your brother-in-law was safe and sound,
to say noth>ng of the fa'jt that the fanily would be spared the
expense of sending a thousand ducats or so to ransom him."

"A thousand ducrts, Matteo! A thousand soldi would more
nearly represent your value, if the Genoese did but know it.
Jut why don't you tell Giulia your adventures, as I ordered
ronV

"Because Giulia would very much rather hear them from
I'rancisco's lips, and I have no doubt he will be equally glad to
tell her himself, though certainly he is a bad hand at recount-
ing his own doings. However, he shall have the pleasure of
telling her of it, and I can fill up the details for her afterwards."

Two days later a decree was published by the council stating
that, in consideration of the very great service rendered to the
state by Francisco Hammond, a citizen of Venice, in recaptur-
ing four galleys from the Genoese, the council decreed the
(<M) »

>•:

322

A PENSION.

settlement upon him for life of a pension of three hundred
ducats a year.

" You will not want it, Francisco," Messer Polani said as he
brought in the news, "for I intend at the end of these troubles
to take you as a partner in my business. I told your father
that I should do so; and you have not only proved yourself
earnest in business, quick at learning, and full of resources,
but you have vastly added to the debt of gratitude which first
caused me to make the jiroposition, by again saving my daugh-
ters from falling into the hands of their enemy. I told your
father that I should regard you in the light of a son, and I
do so regard you, and as a son of whom I have every reason
to be proud.

" I need no thanks, my lad. I am still, and shall always
remain, your debtor. You have very much more than fulfilled
my expectations, and I shall be glad to place ^ome of the
burden of my business upon your shoulders. There is another
matter which I have long had in my mind, but of which I will
not speak just at present. Thus, then, the three hundred
ducats which you will receive each year from the state may
not be needed by you. Still you arc to be congratulated upon
the grant, because being the recipient of a pension for distin-
guished services will add to your weight and influence in the
city; and so long as you do not need it — and no man can say
what may occur in the course of years to hinder the trade of
Venice — you can bestow the sum annually upon the poor of
the city, and thus increase your poj)ulanty."

"I shall be happy to do that, signor," Francis said, "al-
though it seems to me that popularity is of little value in
Venice. It has not saved the man whom a short time since

liu.

POPULARITY.

323

e hundred

i said as he
jse troubles
your father
cd yourself
f resources,
J which first
y my daugh-
I told your
a son, and I
every reason

shall always
|than fulfilled
,ome of the
ire is another
which I will
|ree hundred
te state may
itulated upon
>n for distin-
uence in the
man can say
the trade of
the poor of

iis said, "al-

ttle value in

time since

the people hailed as their father from unmerited disgrace and
imprisonment."

" It has not, Francisco, hut it has saved his life. You may
take my word for it that the proposal absolutely made in the
council for the execution of Pisani would have been voted had
it not been for fear of the people ; and it may be that jou will
yet see that the voice of the people will bring Pisani from his
prison long before the expiration of his term of imprisonment.
Popularity is not to be despised, for it is a great power. That
power may be abused, as when one, having gained the ear of
the people, leads them astray for his own base ends, and uses
the popularity he has gained to attack and hurl from power
men less eloquent and less gifted in t!ie arts of cajoling the
people, but more worthy than himself. But, used rightly,
the power of swaying artd influencing the people is a great
one, and especially valuable in a city like Venice, where private
enmities and pri-* ate feuds are carried to so great an extent.
Already your name is in every mouth. Your rescue of Pisani
[when sorely beset by the enemy has been the theme of talk in
jvery house; and this feat, which retrieves to some extent
[ho misfortune of Pola, will make your name a household word
(n Venice."

Immediately after the battle of Pola the Venetians had
entered into negotiations with Hungary to endeavour to detach
that power from the league against them. But the demands of
King Louis were too extravagant to be accepted. He demanded
the cession of Trieste, the recognition of the suzerainty of
his crown on the part of the present doge and all his successors,
an annual tribute of one hundred thousand ducats, and half a
millicn of ready money. This demand was so excessive that

324

THE GENOESE FLEET.

even in their distress the Venetians refused to accept it, and
hastened on their preparations for a struggle for life or death.

Fortunately the Genoese continued for three months after
their success at Pola to capture the outlying possessions of
Venice instead of striking at the capital. Towards the end of
July seventeen Genoese vessels appeared off Pelestrina, burned
a merchant ship lying there, and spent the day in reconnoitring
positions and in taking soundings of the shallows and canals off
Brondolo. They then sailed away for Dalmatia.

In lejis than a week six galleys again hove in sight; and
Admiral Giustiniani, who w^as in supreme command of the
forces, issued out from the Lido with an equal number of ships
to give them battle. On his way, however, a black object was
seen in the water. As they neared it this was seen to be the
head of a swimmer. He was soon picked up, and was found
to be a Venetian citizen named Savadia who had been captured
by the enemy but had managed to escape, and was swimming
towards \anC. to warn his countrymen that the whole Genoese
fleet of forty-seven sail, under Pietro Doria, was close at hand,
and that the six ships in the offing were simply a decoy to
tempt the Venetians to come out and give battle.

Giustiniani at once returned to port, and scarcely had he
done so than the whole Genoese fleet made its appearance.
They approached the passage of the Lido; but the respite that
had been afforded them had enabled the Venetians to make
their preparations, and the Genoese found, to their disappoint-
ment, that the channels of the Lido and Malamocco were
completely closed up with sunken vessels, palisades, and chains;
and they sailed away to seek another entry through which
they could strike at Venice.

THE BRONDOLO CHANNEL.

325

ccept it, and
ife or death,
months after
(ossessions of
ds the end of
jtrina, burned
reconnoitring
and canals off

in sight; and
nmand of the
umber of ships
lack object was
I seen to be the
and was found
been captured
was swimming
whole Genoese
,s close at ha.nd,
^ply a decoy to

tie.

scarcely had he
its appearance,
the respite that
letians to make

|their disappoint-
ialamocco were
,des, and chains;
through which

Had the same precautions that had proved so efTective at
the Lido and Malamocco passages been taken at all the other
channels Venice could have defied all the efforts of Doria's
fleet. The city is situated on a group of small islands rising in
the midst of a shallow basin twenty-five miles long and five
wide, and separated from the sea by a long sand-bank formed
by the sediment brought down by the rivers Piave and
Adige.

Through this sand-bank the sea had pierced several channels.
Treporti, the northern of these channels, contained water only
for the smallest craft. The next opening was known as the
port of Lido, and separated the island of San Nicolo from
Malamocco. Five miles farther on is the passage of Malamocco,
between that island and Pelestrina. South-west of Pelestrina
lay Brondolo, behind which stood Chioggia, twenty miles distant
from Venice. The southern point of Brondolo was only separ-
ated by a small channel — called the Cai^il of Lombardy — ^from
the mainland.

Unfortunately at Brondolo the channel had not been closed.
All preparations had been made for doing so, but the work had
been postponed until the last moment in order that trading
vessels might enter and leave the harbour, the Chioggians
believing that there was sure to be sufiicient warning of the
approach of an enemy to enable them to close the entrance in
time. The sudden appearance of Doria's fleet before Brondolo
upset all these calculations, and the Genoese easily carried the
position. Little Chioggia, the portion of the town separated
from the rest by the Canal of Santa Caterina, was captured
without difficulty; but the bridge across the canal was strongly
defended by bastions and redoubts, and here Pietro Emo made

326

THE SIEGE OF CHIOQOIA.

a brave stand with his garrison of three thousand five hundred
men.

The enemy at once erected his batteries, and on the 12th of
August the Genoese opened fire. The Venetians replied stoutly,
and for three days a heavy cannonade was kept up on both sides.
Reinforcements had reached the garrison from Venice, and hour
by hour swift boats brought the news to the city of the pro-
gress of the fight. So far all seemed going on well; the Genoese
had sufiered heavily, and made no impression upon the batteries
at the head of the bridge. The days passed in Venice in a state
of restless disquietude. It was hoped and believed that Chiog-
gia could successfully defend itself; but if it fell the consequence
weald be terrible.

Already the Hungarians had ov3rrun the Venetian possessions
on the mainland, the Lord of Padua was in the field with his
army, and communication was cut with Feriara, their sole ally.
Should Chioggia fall, the Genoese fleet would enter the lagoons
and would sail by the great channel through the flats from
Chioggia to Venice, and their light galleys could overrun the
whole of the lagoons and cut off" all communication with the
mainland, and starvation would rapidly stare the city in the face.

Polatii made all preparation! for the worst. Many of his
valuables were hidden away in recesses beneath the floors,
others were taken on board one of his ships in the port, and
this was held in readiness to convey Giulia and Maria, whose
husband had willingly accepted Polani's offer to endeavour
to carry her off" by sea with Giulia in case the Genoese should
enter the city. The merchant made an excursion to Chioggia
with Francis to see for himself how things were going, and re-
turned somewhat reassured.

Fra

ships,

that t]

siege 1

longer

presen

judgmi

admira

until \\i

"Gil

done ir

should

tried m

see Ven

aggress(

made; 1

what wi

place w

from pa;

enter V<

"Do
Pisani w
sailors ii
urge ev(
release a

STIRRING UP THE SAILORS.

327

)ors,

land

lose

rour

)uld

re-

Francis spent much of his time at the port visiting Polani's
ships, talking to the sailors, and expressing to them his opinion
that the Genoese and Padiians would never have dared to lay
siege to Chioggia had they not knov/n that Pisani was no
longer in command of the Venetian forces. "I regard the
present state of affairs," he saiti over and over again, "as a
judgment upon the city for its base ingratitude to the brave
admiral, and I am convinced that things will never come right
until we have him again in command of our fleet.

"Giustiniani is no doubt an able man; but what has he ever
done in comparison to what Pisani has accomplished? Why
should we place our only hope of safety in the hands of an un-
tried man. I warrant if Pisani was out and about you would
see Venice as active s-s a swarm of bees, pouring out against our
aggressors. What is being done now ? Preparations are being
made; but of what kind? Ships are sunk in the channel; but
what will be the use of this if Chioggia falls. The canals to that
place will be blocked, but that will not prevent the Genoese
from passing in their light boats from island to island until they
enter Venice itself.

"Do you think all these ships would be lying idly here if
Pisani were in command 1 Talk to your comrades, talk to the
sailors in the port, talk to those on shore when you land, and
urge everywhere thit the cry should be raised for Pisani's
release and restoration to command."

CHAPTER XVm.

THE RELEASE OP ?ISANL

N tbi morning of the 17th the party were sitting at
breakfast, when Giulia suddenly sprang to her feet.
"Listen ! " she exclairned. Her lather andFrancis
looked at her in surprise^ but instinctively listened
for whatever sound she Cauld have heard; then a deep, solemn
so.und boomed through the air.

" It is the bell of the r'ampanile tolling," the merchant ex-
claimed. -' It is the signal for all citizens to take up arms. Some
terrible news has arrived."

Hastily putting on his armour, the merchant started to St.
Mark's, accompanied by Francis, who put on a steel cap, which
he preferred to the heavy helmet, and a breast-plate. A crowd
of citizens were pursuing the same direction. The numbers
thickened as they approached the Piazza, which they found
on their arrival to be already throng'^r; with people, who were
densely packed in front of the palace, awaiting an explanation
of the summons.

There was a look of d^ep anxiety on every face, for a^ felt
that the news must be bad indeed which could have necessitated
such a call. Presently the doge, accompanied by the coun,;il,
appeared in the balcony. A complete silenoe fell upon the

.i'r

"CHIOGGIA HAS FALLEN I"

329

Itting at
her feet.
1 Francis
listened
>, solemn

hant ex-
ts. Some

jd to St.
ip, which
|A crowd
numbers
sy found
ho were
>lanation

Ir all felt
iessitated
counjil,
ipon the

multitude, the bell ceased tolling, and not the slightest sound
disturbed the stillness. One of the councillors s^^^epped to the
front, for the doge Contarini was now seventy-two years old,
and his voice could hardly have been heard over so wide an
area.

" Citizens of the republic, gather, I pray you, all your forti-
tude and constancy to hear the news which I have to tell. It
is bad news; but there is no reason for repining, still less for
despair. If Venice has but confidence in herself, such as she has
throughout her history shown when danger seemed imminent,
be assured that we shall weather this storm as we have done all
that have preceded it. Chioggia has fallen! "

An exclamation of pain and grief went up from the crowd.
The speaker held up his hand for silence.

"Chioggia, conti'ary to our hopes and expectations, has
fallen; but we are proud to say it has fallen from no lack of
bravery on the part of its defenders. As you know, for six days
the brave podesta, Emo, and his troops have repulsed every
attack; but yesterday an unforeseen accident occurred. While
oiu" Soldiers were holding their own, as usual, a Genoese fire-
ship exploded in the canal behind them. The idea unfortu-
nately seized the troops that the bridge was on fire. The
Genoese shouted 'The bridge is in flames!' and pressed onward,
and our soldiers fell back in some confusion towards the bridge.
Here Emo with four brave companions made a noble stand, and
for a time checked the advance of the foe; but he was driven
back. There was no time to destroy the communication behind
him; the enemy pressed on, and mingled with our retreating
solditsrs entered the town. And so Chioggia was taKen. Our
loss in killed is said to be eight hundred and sixty men; while

330

VENICE OPEN TO ATTACK.

the rest of the garrison — four thousand in number — were taken
prisoners."

A loud cry of anguish burst from the crowd. Numbers of
those present had relatives and friends among the ganison of
Chioggia; and to all the news of this terrible disaster was a •:)T0-
found blow. Venice was open now to invasion. In a few hours
the enemy might appear in her canals. The council and the
nobles endeavoured to dispel the feeling of despair; while some
hamngued the people from the balconies, others went down and
mingled with the crowd, assuring them that all was not yet lost,
that already messengers had been despatched to Doria and the
Lord of Padua, asking for terms of peace; and even should these
be refused Venice might yet defend herself until Zeno arrived
with his fleet to their rescue.

The doge himself received deputations of the citizens, and, by
his calmness and serenity, did much to allay the first feeling of
terror and dismay; and in a few hours the city recovered its
wonted aspect of tranquillity. The next morning the answer to
the overtures was received. The Lord of Padua, who was doubt-
less beginning to feel some misgiving as to the final issue of the
struggle, declared that he himself was not unwilling to treat
upon certain terms, but that the decision must rest in the hands
of his colleague. Doria, believing that Venice was now in his
grasp, rejected the idea of terms with scorn.

"By God's faith, my lords of Venice," he cried, "ye shall
have no peace from the Lord of Padua, nor from our commune
of Genoa, until I have put a bit in the mouths of the horses of
your evangelist of St. Mark; when they have been bridled you
shall then, in sooth, have a good peace; and this is our purpose
and that of our commune ! As for these captives, my brethren,"

RESISTANCE TO THE LAST.

331

shall
imune
ses of
d you
irpose
hren,"

he said, pointing to some Genoese prisoners of rank whom the
Venetians had sent with their embassy in hopes of conciliating
the Genoese, "take them back; I want them not; for in a few
days I am coming to release from your prisons them and the
rest."

As soon as the message was received the bell summoned the
popular assembly together, and, in the name of the doge, Pietro
Mocenigo described to them the terrible nature of the peril that
threatened them, told them that after the insolent reply of
Doria there was now no hope save in their own exertions, and
invited all to rally round the national standard for the pro-
tection of their hearths and homes. The reply of the assembly
was unanimous; and shouts were raised, "Let us arm ourselves;
let us equip and man what galleys are in the arsenal; let us
sally out to the combat; it is better to die in the defence of our
country than to perish here from want."

A universal conscription was at once ordered, new taxes
were imposed, and the salaries of the magistrates and civil
functionaries suspended. All business came to a stand-still, and
property fell to a fourth of its former value. The imposts were
not found adequate to produce the sums required, and a new
loan at five per cent was decreed. All subscribed to the utmost
of their ability, raising the enormous sum of 6,294,040 lire. A
new captain-general was elected, and the government nominated
Taddeo Giustiniani to the post.

The fortification of the city with earthworks was commenced.
Lines of defence were drawn from Lido to San Spirito, and two
wooden towers constructed at the former point to guard the pass
of San Nicolo. Events succeeded each other with the greatest
rapidity, and all these matters were settled within thirty-six

! <\

^-^^— >4<iii^iUMaJ

332

TIIE PEOPLE DEMAND PISANL

hours of the fall of Chioggia. In all respocts the people at first
yielded implicit obedience to the order of the council; tHey en-
rolled themselves for service, they subscribed to the loan, they
laboured at the outworks; but from the moment the appoint-
ment of Taddeo Giustiniani was announced they grew sullen.
It was not that they objected to the new captain-general, who
was a popular nobleman, but every man felt that something more
than this was required in such an emergency, and that the best
man that Venice could produce should be at the helm.

The sailors of the port were the first to move in the matter,
and shouts for Vettore Pisani were heard in the streets. Others
took up the cry, and soon a large multitude assembled in the
Piazza, and with menacing shouts demanded that Pisani should
be freed and appointed. So serious did the tumult become
that the council were summoned in haste. Pisani — so popular
with the lower class that they called him their father— was
viewed with corresponding dislike and distnist by the nobles,
who were at once jealous of his fame and superiority, and were
alarmed at a popularity which could have made him, had he
chosen it, the master of the state.

It was not, therefore, until after some hours of stormy debate
that they decided to give in to the wishes of the crowd, which
was continually growing larger and more threatening, and it
was late in the evening before the senators deputed by the
council, followed by the exulting populace, hurried to the prison
to apprise Pisani that he was free, and that the doge and senate
were expecting him.

Pisani heard the message without emotion, and placidly
replied that he should prefer to pass the night where he was
in reflection, and would wait on the seignory in the morning.

PISANI'S TRIUMPH.

333

mate
was

At daybreak on Friday, the 19th of August, the senatorial
delegates and the people, accompanied by the other officers
who had been involved in the disgrace of Pisani, and who had
now been freed, reap[)earod at the gates of the prison. These
were immediately opened, and Pisani appeared with his usual
expression of cheerfulness and good-huh our on his face. He
was at once lifted on to the shoulders of 3ume sailors and borne
in triumph to the palace amid the deafening cheers of the
populace. On the staircase he was met by the doge and sena-
tors, who saluted him cordially. Mass was heard in the chapel,
and Pisani and the council then set to business, and were for
some time closeted together.

The crowd waited outside the building continuing to shout,
and when Pisani issued out from tha palace he was seized and
carried in triumph to his house in San Fantino. As he was
passing the Campanile of St. Mark, his old pilot, Marino
Corbaro, a remarkably able seaman, but a perpetual grumbler
against those in authority, met him, and elbowing his way
through the crowd, drew close to him, loudly shouting at the
same time:

"Now is the time, admiral, for revenging yourself by
seizing the dictatorship of this city; behold all are at your
service. All are willing at this very instant to proclaim you
prince if you choose."

The loyalty of Pisani's nature was so affronted by this offer,
that, in a fury of rage, he leaned forward and struck Corbaro a
heavy blow with his fist, and then raising his voice shouted to
those about him :

"Let none who wish me well say, 'Viva Pisani!' but, 'Viva
SanMarcol'"

334

WE ARE YOURS.

And the populace then shouted, "Viva San Marco and our
Father Pisani!"

No sooner had Pisani reached his house than the news was
bruited about that the admiral had been merel, appointed
governor of Lido, and that Giustiniani remained in command of
the navy. The people were furious; and a deputation of 600
waited upon Pisani and said :

" We are yo"rs. Command us as you will."

Pisani told them that it was for the republic and not for
him to command their services. The deputation then went
to the council, and declared in the name of fifty thousand
Venetians, that not a man would embark oii the galleys until
Pisani received his command as captain-general of all the
forces of the republic by land and sea. The Council of Ten,
finding it impossible to resist the popular demand, and terrified
at the idea of the tumult that a refusal would arouse, at last
agreed to their request.

Fortunately for the republic, the four days which elapsed
between the fall of Chioggia and the appointment of Pisani to
the supreme command had not been utilized by the enemy.
Carrara and Doria had always been at variance as to their
plans of operations, and as usual they differed now. The
Lord of Padua urged the necessity for following up their suc-
cess by an instant attack upon Venice, while Doria insisted
upon carrying out his original plan and trusting as much to
starvation as to military operations. He, hovvever, gradually
pushed forward two outposts at Poreja and Malamo^co, and on
the latter island, at a. distance of three miles from Venice, he
erected a battery many of whose shot fell at San Spirito.

Francis had borne his share in the events which had led to

«i

"I WAS A TRUE PROPHET."

335

sani to

[nemy.

their

The

lir suc-
isisted
ich to

[dually

tnd on

lice, he

led to

the installation of Pisani in the supreme command. He had
at first instigated the sailors of Polani to raise a cry in the
streets for the restoration of the admiral, and had gone about
with two or three of his friends mingling with knots of persons,
and urging that the only hope of the republic lay in the energy
and talent of Pisani. Even Matteo had joined him, although
Taddeo Giustiniani was his own uncle; but, as the lad said,
"what matters it about relationship now? what will become of
relationship, if the Genoese and Paduans land here, rase the
city to the ground, and scatts" as over the face of the earth ?
No. When it comes to a question of ordinary command, of
1^ course I should go with my family; but when Venice is in
danger, and only one man can save her, I should vote for him
whoever the other may be."

Polani had also exerted the great influence he possessed
among the commercial classes, and had aided the efforts of
Francis by giving leave to the sailors of all his ships in port to
go on shore. A few hours after Pisani's release the merchant,
accompanied by Frauuic, called upon hiru.

" Welcome, my friends," he said heartily. " Well, you see,
Messer Hammond, that I was 8. true prophet, and that I have
had my share of the dungeon. However, we need not talk of
that now, I am up to my eyes in business."

"I have no doubt of that, admiral," Polani said; "I have
called to oflFer every ship I have in the harbour for the defence
of the city. I myself will continue to pay their crews as at
present. Use the vessels as you like. Make fire-ships of them
if you will, I can aff'ord the loss."

"Thanks, my friend," the admiral said; "we shall find a
use for them, never fear. As for you, Messer Hammond, even

mmmmm

^^^^'"ii't.'iC

336

<*HB IS A QRtTMfiLINO OLD SOOtmDRBL.**

i !

i ; •»

in my prison I heard of your gallant feat in recapturing the
Pluto and three other ships from the Genoese, and thus retriev-
ing to some extent the losses of Pola. I hope to wipe off the
rest of the score before long. I shall find a command for you
in a day or two. Age and rank go for nothing now. I am
going to put the best men in the best position. I have just
appointed that old rascal, Corbaro, vice-admiral of the Lido.
He is a grumbling old scoundrel, and would have had me get
up a revolution to-day, for which I had to knock him down;
but he is one of the best sailors Venice ever turned out, and
just the man for the place."

" I would rather act as a general aide-de-camp to you, admiral,
than have a separate command, if you will allow me," Francis
said. "I am still too young to command, and should be
thwarted by rivalry and jealousies. I would thertiore far
rather act under your immediate orders, if you will allow
me.

" So be it then, lad. Come to me to-morrow, and I have no
doubt I shall have plenty for you to do. At present I cannot
say what course I may adopt, for in truth I don't know what
position I shall hold. The people do not seem content with my
having only the government of Lido; but for myself I care
nothing whether I hold that command or that of captain-
general, it is all one to me so that I can serve the republic.
And Giustiniani is an able man, and will no doubt do his
business well. You do not think so, young man?" he broke
off when Francis shook his head.

" I do not, indeed, sir. He lias erected two wooden towers
at the mouth of the Lido, which the first stone from a Genoese
ballista would knock to splinters; and has put up a fence to

EARNEST WOR^

337

5 tlio
triev-
ff the
»r you

I am
e just

Lido.

ne get
down;
at, and

dmiral,
Francis
)uld be
[ore far
[\ allow

have no
cannot
(W what
ith my
I care
Icaptain-
[epublic.
do his
le broke

towers

renoese

tence to

San Spirito which a Genoese soldier in full armour could jump

over.

Well, we shall see, Messer Hammond," the admiral said
smiling. " I fear you have one bad quality among your many
good ones, and that is that you are a partisan; but go along
now, I have no more time to spare to you."

No sooner had Pisani obtained the supreme command than
he set to work in earnest to provide for the safety of the city,
the reorganization of the navy, and the conversion of the new
levies into soldiers and sailors. The hulls of forty galleys
which were lying in the arsenals were taken in hand, and two-
thirds of them were equipped and ready for sea in three days.
The population was full of ardour and enthusiasm, and crowded
to the offices to register their names for service; the women
brought their jewels to be melted down into money; and all
vied with each other in zeal.

Pisani's first task after seeing the galleys put in hand was

to examine the defences Giustiniani had erected. He at once

pronounced the two wooden towers — of which Francis had

spoken so disrespectfully — to be utterly useless, and ordered

two tall towers of solid masonry to be erected iii their stead.

Giustiniani was indignant at this condemnation of his work;

and he and h^s friends so worked upon the minds of those who

were to car.y out the work that they laid down their tools

and refused to embark upon such useless operations. The

news was brought to Pisani by one of his friends, and, starting

I in his gondola, he was soon upon the spot. He wasted no

(time in remonstrating with the workmen on their conduct, but

Iseizing a trowel lifted a heavy stone into its place, shouting:

'^Let him who loves St. Mark follow my example!"

(4M) ■ . ' f

t i

; i i

1 1

338

IN READINESS FOR THE ATTACK.

The success of the appeal was instantaneous. The workmen
grasped their tools; a host of volunteers seized the stones and
carried them to their places. When they were exhausted
fresh workmen took their places, and in the incredibly short
time of four days the two castles were finished. The work-
men were next set to level the paling and earthwork from
Lido to San Spirito, and in the course of a fortnight the lofty
and massive stone walls were erected.

By this time something like a fleet was at Pisani's disposal.
In spite of the conduct of Taddeo Giustiniani, Pisani, with his
usual magnanimity, gave him the command of three large ships
mounting the heaviest guns in the arsenal. The light boats
were under the command of Giovanni Barberigo, Federigo Cor-
nai'o was stationed with a force of galleys at San Spirito,
Nicholo Gallieano was charged with the defence of the Laza-
retto, San Clemente, Sant' Elena, and the neighbouihood, while
on the strand between Lido and Malamocco, behind the main
wall, were the mercenaries, eight thousand strong, under
Jacopo Cavalli. Heavy booms were placed across all the
canals by which it was likely that the enemy's fleet might
advance.

Francis found his office under the energetic admiral

sineciu'e. He was kept constantly moving from one point to
the other to see that all was going on well, and to report the
progress made. The work never ceased night or day, and for/
the first week neither Francis nor his commander ever went tc
bed, contenting themselves with such chance sleep as thej
could snatch.

Having wasted eight precious days the «nemy on the 24t^
of August advanced to the attack. A Genoese force unde

1
r
U

FAMINE^

339

nneti
3 and
,u8ted
short
work-
c from
e lofty

lisposal.

with his

[•ge ships

•ht boats

irigo Cor-

i Spirito.

the Laza-

lood, while
the main
ng, under
ss all the
teet migl^^

[admiral no
[le point to

report the
[ay, and fort

^^er went tc
|ep as the:

5n the 24t
[force unde

Doria's brother landed upon San Nicolo, while the Paduans
attacked San Spirito and Santa Marta.

They found the besieged in readiness. Directly the alarm
was given the Venetians flocked to the threatened points, and
repulsed the enemy with slaughter; the latter then attempted
to make a junction of their forces, but Cornaro with his galleys
occupied the canal, drove back the boats in which they intended
to cross, and defeated the attempt.

Doria had felt certain that the movement, which was at-
teiapted under cover of night, would succeed, and his disap-
pointment was extreme.

The Lord of Padua was so disgusted that he withdrew his
troops to the mainland. Doria remained before Venice until
the early part of October, but without making another attack,
indeed the defences had long before become so formidable that
attack Mas well-nigh hopeless. At the end of that time he
destroyed all his works and fell back upon Chioggia, and deter-
mined to wait there until Venice was starved into surrender.

The suffering in the city was intense. It was cut off from
all access to the mainland behind, but occasionally a ship laden
with provisions from Egypt or Syria managed to evade the
Genoese galleys; these precarious supplies, however, availed
but little for the wants of the starving city, eked out though
they were by the exertions of the sailors, who occasionally
sailed across the lagoon, landed on the mainland, and cut off
[the supplies sent from Padua and elsewhere to the (renoese
[camp. .

The price of provisions was so enormous that the bulk of the

)eople were famishing, and even in the houses of the wealthy

le pressure was great. The nobility, however, did their

340

DESPERATE PROPOSALS.

utmost for their starving countrymen, and the words of Pietro
Mocenigo, speaking in the name of the doge to the popular
assembly, were literally carried into effect.

"Let all," he said, "who are pressed by hunger, go to the
dwellings of the patricians, there you will find friends and
brothers who will divide with you their last crust."

So desperate indeed did the position become that a motion
was made by some members of the council for emigrating from
the lagoons and founding a new home in Candia or Negropont;
but this proposal was at once negatived, and the Venetians
declared that sooner than abandon their city they would bury
themselves under her ruins.

So October and November passed. Carlo Zeno had not yet
arrived, but by some letters which had been captured with a
convoy of provisions it was learned that he had been achieving
the most triumphant success, had swept the seas from Genoa
to Constantinople, had captured a Genoese galleon valued at
three hundred thousand ducats, and was at Candia.

This intelligence revived the hopes of Venice, and on the
16th of November Luigi Moroceni was despatched to order him,
in the name of the government, peremptorily to hasten to the
rescue of Venice. Almost at the same time Giovanni Barberigo
with his light craft surprised and captured three of the enemy's
vessels, killing many of the sailors and taking a hundred and
fifty prisoners. The success was not in itself important, but
it raised the hopes of the Venetians as being the first time they
had taken the offensive.

Pisani himself had endeavoured to reconnoitre the position
of the enemy, but had each time been sharply repulsed, losing
ten boats and thirty men upon one occasion, when the doge's

(

"^^

-c

I li

AN APPEAL TO THE PEOPLE.

341

>ietro
ipular

bo the
18 and

□action
g from
ropont;
metians

id bury

not yet j
1 with a j
,chieving
tn Genoa
alued at

i on the
:der him,
sn to the
larberigo
enemy's
[dred and
'tant, but
lime they

le position
]ed, losing
the doge's

nephew, Antonio Gradenigo, was also killed by the enemy;
but in spite of this he advised government to make a great
effort to recover Chioggia. He admitted that the chances of
failure were great; still he maintained that success was pos-
sible, and it was better that the Venetians should die fighting
than by hunger.

As the result of his expeditions he had found that Doria had
at least thirty thousand men, fifty great ships, and from seven
to eight hundred light craft. Moreover his troops were in high
spirits, well fed, and well cared for, and should therefore be,
man to man, more than a match for the starving soldiers of
Venice. Nevertheless there was a possibility of success, as
Zouo would doubtless arrive by the time the siege had fairly
commenced. After much debate the council determined that
the undertaking should be attempted.

To stir the people to the utmost exertion the senate, on the
Ist of December, published a decree that the thirty plebeians
who should most liberally meet the urgent necessities of the
state by the proffer of their persons or estates should, after peace
was made, be raised to the rank of nobility and summoned to
the great council; that thirty-five thousand ducats of gold should
be distributed annually among those who were not elected and
their heirs for ever; that any foreign merchant who should
display peculiar zeal for the cause of the republic should be
admitted to the full privileges of citizenship; and that, on the
other hand, such Venetians as might endeavour to elude a
participation in the common burdens and hardships should be
held by so doing to have forfeited all their civil rights.

Seventy-five candidates came forward: some offered money,
some personal service or the service of their sons and relatives ;

^"^Bsmmm

342

AN IMPROVISED FLEET.

1 1

some presented galleys and offered to pay their crews. Im-
mense efforts were made, and by the 21st of December sixty
ships, four hundred boats of all sizes, and thirty-four war
galleys were equipped. The doge, although just seventy -three
years old, signified his wish to assume the supreme command of
the expedition, Pisar : actinc as his lieutenant and admiral.

During the 'lo .g >'.' i:?* i.-b ^l%d continued Fr. Jicis saw little
of the Polanis, his '^lun<»3 k taring him constantly near Pisani,
with whom he took such meah ^ the time would afford, sleep-
ing in his house in readiness for lastant service. Maria had
returned to her father's house, for her husband was in com-
mand of the outpost nearest to the enemy and was therefore
constantly away from home.

Maria's spirits were higher than ever. She made light of
the hardships in the way of food, bantered Francis when he
came on his business engagements, and affected to treat him
with extreme respect as the trusted lieutenant of Pisani.
Giulia, too, kept up her spirits, and no one would have thought,
listening to the lively talk of the two girls with their father
and Francis, that Venice was besieged by an overwhelming
force and reduced to the direst straits by hunger. The j^jreater
part of Polani's ships were now in the service of the state;
those which remained were constantly engaged in running
across to the Dalmatian coast and bringing in c<*rgoes of pro-
visions through the cordon of the Genoese galleys.

The light gondola which, after being repaired, had been lying
for two years under cover in Messer Polani's yard had again been
made useful. Giuseppi had returned to his old work, and he
and another powerful oarsman made the light boat fly through
the water as Francis carried the orders of the admiral to the

1 ' !

AN IMPORTANT COMMISSION.

343

1 1

Im-

Bixty
war
three
md of
al.

J little
Pisani,
, sleep-
ria bad
in coni-
lerefore

light of
ftrhen he
:eat him

Pisani.
thought,
ir father
rlielniiTig
Ic ^jreater

te state;

running

ss of pro-

leen lying
[gain been

(C, and he
through

tal to the

■■^

yarious posts. He had aUo been in it upon several of the
rec' • (loitring expeditions in the canals leading to Chioggia,
and dtLough hotly chased he had o< each occasion left his
pur:.:er8 behind. The evening before the expedition was to
star ■ Pisani said to him:
; "I think yon ha.o brought me more news with that fast

little craft of yours than I have been able to obtain even at the
I cost of some hard fighting and a good many lives. I wish

I that you would make an excursion for me to-night and find

I * out, if you can, whether the enemy have moved their positioti
since the last time I reconnoitred them. I particularly wi";^;'
to learn if they have strong forces near the outlets of ^/^
channels of Chioggia and Brondolo and the Canal of Lombai dy.
V You know my plans, and with such a host of recruits as I v 11
\ ha 8 with me it is all important that there should be no failure

1 ^ at first; veterans can stand defeat, but a reverse is fatal to
young troops. Heaven knows, they will have enough to bear
with wet, cold, exposure, and hunger, and success will be neces-
sary to keep up their spirits. Do not push your adventure too
far; run no risk if you can help it. I would not for much that
1^ harm befell you."

Francis at once accepted the commission and left the admiral
in order to make his preparations.

"Giuseppi," he said, as he took his place in the boat, "I
want you to find for me for service to-night a gondolier who is
a native of Chioggia, and who knows every foot of the country
round and every winding of the canals. He must be intelligent
and brave, for the risk will be no slight one."

"I think I know such a man, Messer Francisco; but if he
ppens to be away there will be no difficulty in finding

■i

•.'i,l!''JKl!

|fT=?^

344

OtJRlOSITV.

another, for there are many fishermen here who escaped belora
the Genoese captured Chioggia."

"When will you see him 1" ' \

"As soon as you have landed me at Messer Polani's.**

" Go and fetch him, Giuseppi ; and if you can find one or two
old fishermen of Chioggia, bring them also with you; I want
to gain as much information as possible regarding the country."

" Is it true that the fleet starts to-morrow, Francisco?" Maria
asked as he entered; "everyone says so."

" It is quite true; there will be no further change; the orders
have been all issued, and you may rely upon it that we are
going to sea."

"And when will you return?"

"That's another matter altogether," Francis laughed. "It
may be a week, it may be three months."

" But I thought we were going to fight the Genoese galleys;
it does not seem to me that a week is wanted to do that. A
day to go to Chioggia, a day to fight, and a day to return.
What can you want more than that for?"

"I do not think that we are going to fight the Genoese
galleys," Francis answered. "Certainly we shall not do so if
we can help it; they are vastly stronger than we are; but I do
not know that we need fear them for all that."

" What do you mean, Francisco ? You do not mean to fight
— they are vastly stronger than you are — and yet you do not
fear them. You are not given to speak in riddles; but you
have puzzled me this time."

"Well, I will explain myself a little," Francis said; "but you
must remember that it is a secret, and not to be whispered to
anyone."

;.*i
'^

"DO NOT TRIFLE WITH US, SIR."

346

I before

e or two
; I want
ountry."
1" Maria

he orders
,t we are

bed. "I*

je galleys;
that. A
[to return.

Genoese

)t do so if ' I
I; but I do

m to figbt
ro\x do not

|; but you

[, "but you
lispered to

" That is right," Maria said. " I love a secret, especially a
state secret. Giulia, como and sit quite close, so that he can
whisper it into our ears, and even the walls shall not hear it.
Now, sir, explain yourself!"

" I will explain it without telling you," Francis said. " Have
you not gone to see African lions, who were very much stronger
and fiercer than yourself, and yet you did not fear them'?"

"Because they have been in cages," Maria said. "But what
has that to do with it?"

"It explains the whole matter," Francis said. "We do not
mean to fight the Genoese fleet if we can help it; but we are
going to try to put them in a cage, and then we shall not be
afraid of them."

" Do not trifle with us, sir," Maria said sternly. " How can
you put Genoese galleys in a cage?"

" We cannot put them in a cage, but we can cage them up,"
Francis said. " Pisani's intention is, if possible, to close all the
entrances to the canals round Chioggia; thus not only will the
Genoese galleys be unable to sally out to attack us, but the
whole of the Genoese army will be couped up, and we shall
then do to them what they have been doing to us, namely,
starve them out!"

"Capital, capital!" Maria said, clapping her hands; "your
Pisani is a grand man, Francisco. And if he can do this for us,
there is nothing which we would not do to show oui' gratitude;
but you won't find it easy; besides, in the game of starving
out are we likely to win? The contest will not be even, for
they start on it full men and strong, while our people are half-
starved already."

"I do not regard success as certain/' Francis replied; "and

346

"YOU SHOULD TELL HIM NOT TO GO.**

Pisani himself acknowledges the chances are very great against
U8. Still, it is possible; and as nothing else seems possible we
are going to attempt it."

Polani looked grave when he heard of the mission which
Francis was going to undertake; Giulia's bright colour fled at
once, and Maria said angrily:

"You have no right to be always running into danger,
Francisuo. You are not a Venetian, and there is no reason why
you should be always running risivs greater than those which
most Venetians are likely to encounter; you ought to think of
us who care for you, if you don't clioose to think of your-
self."

" I did not volunteer for the service," Francis said. " I was
asked by the admiral to undertake it, and even had I wished
it I could hardly have refused. The admiral selected me, not
from any merit on my part, but because he knows that my boat
is one of the fastest on the lagoons, and that I can easily run
away from any of the Genoese row-boats. He particularly
ordered me to run no unnecessary risks."

"That is all very well," Maria said; "but you know very
well that you will run risks and put yourself in the way of
danger if there is a chance of doing so. You should tell him
not to go, father!"

"I cannot do that, Maria; for the service he has undertaken
is a very important one to Venice. Everything depends upon
the success of Pisani 's attempt, and undertaken, as it is, against
great odds, it is of the utmost importance that there should be
no mistake as to the position of the enemy.. Whether Francis ^
was wise or not in accepting Pisani's offer that he should act ^
fts his aide-de-camp, may be doubted; but now that he has un-

STUDYING THE COUNTRT.

347

Etgainat
ible we

I "which
- fled at

danger,

,son why

ge which

think of

of your-

«« I was
I wished
id me, not
,t my hoat
easily run
irticularly

:now very
[he way of
tell him

Indertaken
lends upon
1 is, against
should be
ler Francis ^
[should act
Ihe has un-

dertakon it he must carry out his orders, especially as it is now
too late to make other arrangements did he draw back.

** If you will come into my room, Francisco, I will give you
a chart of the passages around Chioggia; you can study that,
and you will then the better understand the information you
may receive from the men you are expecting."

Half an hour later Giuseppi arrived with the gondolier he
had spoken of and two old fishermen, and from their explana-
tions and a study of the map Francis gained an exact idea of
the localities. From his previous expeditions he had learned
where the Genoese were generally posted, and something of
the strength of the forces at the various points.
I In truth, they kept but a careless watch. Feeling convinced
ih^that the Venetians possessed no forces capable of attacking
him, and that their surrender must now be a matter of a
ew days only, Doria took no precautions; his troops were
1 quartered in the houses of Chioggia, his galleys moored
ongside its quays, and the utmost he did was to post small
iodies of men with row-boats at the entrances to the passages
om the sea and up the lagoons, to give warning of any sudden
tempt on the part of Barberigo, with his light flotilla, to make
dash at the galleys and endeavour to burn them.
Having obtained all the information he could from the old
ishermen, Francis dismissed them.
"It is evident," he said to Giuseppi, "that we can hardly hope
succeed in passing th^ boats at the entrance to the canal sea-
ard or by going up the higoon; the only plan that I can see
for us to land on the island of Pelestrina, which is held by
to carry the boat across it, and to embark in the Malamocco
<i|&mieL In this way we should be within their cordon of

mmeam^itiaamm

348

LIGHTENING THE BOAT.

boats, and can row fearlessly either out to the entrances or to
Chioggia itself; we are not likely tc. be detected, and if we are,
we must make a race of it to Pelestrina."

The gondolier agreed that the scheme was practicable, and
Francis ordered Giuseppi and him to remove the burdens and
every bit of wood that could be dispensed with from the
gondola, so as to facilitate its transport

i III

•«i35v^

!i I'll

i '!

'I I i

CHAPTER XIX.

THE SIEGE OF CHIOGOIA.

ATE in the afternoon Francis embarked in his
gondola, and in an hour and a half landed at
Pelestrina. He was well known to those posted
there as the bearer of Pisani's orders, iind as soon
as it became dark Rufino Giustiniani, who was in command,
ordered a dozen men to carry the light gondola across the
island to the Malamocco channel. While this was being done
Francis went to Rufino's tent and informed him of what was
going on in Venice, and that the whole fleet would set sail
on the morrow.

" We heard rumours from the men who brought our rations
that it was to be so," Rufino said; "but we have heard the
same story a dozen times. So, now, it is really true ! But what
can the admiral be thinking of! Sure he can't intend to attack
Doria with this newly-manned fleet and rahl)le army. He
could not hope for victory against such odds?"

"The pdmiral's intentions are kept a profound secret," Francis
said, " and are ouiy known to the doge and the Council of Ten!"

"And to yourself," Rufino said laughing.

" The admiral is good enough to honour me with his fullest
confidence," Francis said; "and in this matter it is so important

tiisaK'

mMB

350

"I WILL WARRANT THEY HAVE."

! I.

■ilN

that the nature of the design should be kept wholly secret
that I cannot tell it even to you!"

"You are quite right, Francisco; nor do I wish to know it,
though I would wager that Maria and her pretty sister have
some inkling of what is going on."

Francis laughed.

" The signoras are good enough to treat me as a brother," Le
said, " and I will not affirm that they have not obtained some
slight information."

"I will warrant they have!" Rufino said. ''When my wife
has made up her mind to get to the bottom of a matter she
will tease and coax till she succeeds. Ah, here is Matteo! he
has been out posting the sentries for the night."

The two friends had not indulged in a talk for some weeks,
though they had occasionally met when Francis paid one of his
flying visits to the island.

" I 4iave just seen your boat being carried along," Matteo
said, as he entered the tent. " I could not think what it was
till I got close , but of course when I saw Giuseppi I knew all
about it. What are you going to do — scout among the
Genoese?"

" I am going to find out as much as I can," Francis said.

" It's a capital idea your bringing the boat across the island,"
Matteo said. "You are always full of good ideas, Francis; I
can't make it out; they never seem to occiu* to me, and at the
present time especially the only ideas that come into my mind
are as to the comfortable meals I will eat when this business is
over. I never thought I cared much for eating before, but
since I ha,ve had nothing but bread — and not enough of that —
and an occasional fish, I have discovered that I am really fond

MATTEO'S OPINION.

361

my wife
,tter she
bteo! he

e weeks,
ne of his

said,
island,"
rancis; I
d at the
ny mind
isiness is
ore, but
jf that —
dly fond

of good living. My bones ache perpetually with lying on the
bare ground, and if I escape from this without h?Lig a cripple
for life from rheumatism I shall consider :nyself lucky indeed.
You are a fortunate fellow, Francisco; spending your time in the
admiral's comfortable palace or flying about in a smooth-rowing
gondola!"

" That is one side of the question certainly," Francis said,
laughing; "but there is a good deal of hard work too in the way
of writing."

"I should not like that," Matteo said. "Still, I think you
have the best of it. If the Genoese would come sometimes
and try and drive us off the island there would be some excite-
ment. But except when the admiral wishes a reconnaissance, or
Barberigo's galleys come down and stir them up, there is really
nothing doing here."

" That ought to suit you exactly, Matteo^ for never but once
did I hear you say you wanted to do anythiiig."

"When was that?" Rufino asked laughing.

" Matteo conceived a violent desire to climb Mount Etna,"
Francis said, " and it needed all my arguments to prevent his
leaving the ship at Girgenti, while she was loading, and starting
to make the ascent." .

" He would have repented before he had gone a quarter of
the way up," Rufino said.

"I might have repented," Matteo replied stoutly, "but I
would Lave done it if I had begun. You do:i't know me yet,
Rufino; I have a large store of ener«i,y, only at present I have
had no opportunity of showing what I am made of. And now
how do you intend to proceed, Francisco? Have you any
planl"

ys.^'

'|i

. .pi ■

ri. !"

Ml'

itiii' ii

mi i

M) !

i'!i

■M;

352

A GOOD SUPPER.

" None at all," Francis replied. " I simply want to assure
myself that the galleys are all in their usual places, and that
the Genoese are making no special preparations against our
coming."

" I have seen no unusual stir," Rufino said. " Their ships, as
far as one can see their masts, seem all in their usual position.
I fancy that since Barberigo carried off two of them they ha/e
put booms across the channels to prevent sudden attacks.
I saw a lot of row-boats busy about something, but I could
not make out exactly what they were doing ; but still I fancy
they were constructing a boom. Their galleys keiep a sharp
look-out at night, and you certainly would not have succeeded
in passing them had you not hit upon this plan of carrying
your boat over.

"Your greatest danger will be at first. When once you have
fairly entered the inner canals you are not like\ to be sus-
pected of being an enemy. They will take you for Chioggian
fishermen returning late. We often make out their fishing-
boats near the town. No doubt Doria is fond of fresh fish.
Otherwise you would be detected, for the Genoese boats are of
course quite different to ours, and even in the dark they would
make out that you belonged to the lagoons. Ah, here is
supper ;' It is not often that I should have anything to ofier
you, but one of my men managed to catch three or four fish
to-day, and sold them to me at abouu their weight in silver.
However, I have some good wine from my own cellars, and a
man who has good wine, fish, and bread can do royally what-
ever this grumbling brother of mine may say."

Half an hour later a soldier brought the news that the
gor-:d2^a r/as ;n the water, and Francis bade adieu to his friends

)it(. I!

ACttOSS THE SHALLOWS.

353

assure
d that
Lst our

iips, as
Qsition.
>y has'^e
attacks.
I could
I fancy
a sharp
tcceeded
jarrying

rou have
be sus-

hioggian
fishing-

3sh fish.

ts are of
sy would
here is
to offer
our fish
ti silver.
s, and a
ly what-

Ihat the
friends

and started at tmce. ""Row slowly and quietly," he said as he
took his seat. " Do not let your oars make the slightest splash
in the water until we are well across to the opposite shore;
they may have a guard-boat lying in the cliannel."

The light craft made her way noiselessly across the water.
Once or twice they heard the sound of oars as some Genoese
galley passed up or down, but none came near enough to per-
ceive them, and they crossed the main channel and entered one
of the numerous passages practicable only for boats of very
light draught, without being once hailed. A broad shallow
tract of water was now crossed, passable only by craft draw-
ing but a few inches of water ; then again they v/ere in a
deeper channel, and the lights of Chioggia rose but a short
distance ahead. They paused and listened now, for they were
nearing the ship channel, and here the enemy would, if any-
where, be on the alert. Coming across the water they could
hear the sound of voices and the dull noise made by the move-
ment of men in a boat.

" Those are tho galleys watching the boom, I expect," Francis
said. " Now, Philippo, we can move on ; I suppose there is
plenty of water acioss the flats for us to get into the channel
without going near the boom."

"Plenty for us, signor; but if the boom goes right across
the channel heavy row-boats would not be able to pass. There
are few shallower places in the lagoons than just about here,
it may be that in one or two places even we might touch, T 'it
if we do the bottom is firm enough for us to get out and float
the boat over."

But they did not touch any shoal sufficiently shallow to
necessitate this. Several times Francis could feel by the

(458)

Hggyi

liisuiia

atel

354

AT OHIOOOIA.

dragging pace that she was touching the oozy bottom; but
each time she passed over without coming to a stand-still. At
last Philippe said :

" We are in the deep channel now, signor; the boom is right
astern of us. The town is only a few hundred yards ahead."

"Then we shall be passing the Genoese galleys directly,"
Francis said; "row slowly as we go and splash sometimes with
the oars ; if we go quickly and noiselessly past they might pos-
sibly suspect something, but if we row without an attempt at
concealment they will take us for a fisherman's boat."
• Soon the dark mass of Genoese ships, with their forests of
masts, rose before them. There were lights in the cabins, and
a buzz of talking, laughing, and singing among the crews on
board.

" What luck to-day 1" a sailor asked them as they rowed past
twenty or thirty yards from the side of one of the ships.

" Very poor," Giuseppi replied. " I think your ships and
the boats lying about, and the firing, have frightened the fish
away from this end of the lagoons."

It was half a mile before they passed the last of the crowd
of vessels. "Would you like me to land here, signor?"
Philippo said. " There would be no danger in my doing so. I
can make my way through th^ streets to the house of some of
my relatives and find out froi.i them whether there are any
fresh movements among the Genoese. I will not enter any
house; for aught I know there a-e soldiers quartered every-
where; but I am sure not to go mai y yards before I run against
some one I know."

"I think it will be a very good plan, Philippo; we will lie
under the bank here and wait your return."

lii;

SCOUTIMO.

355

i; but
11. At

is rigbt
head."
irectly,"
^es with
ight pos-
tempt at

forests of
.bins, and
crews on

owed past
lips,
hips and
the fish

the crowd
signer ■?"
)ing so. 1
of some of
e are any
enter anj
•ed every-
m against

wiUlie

It was not more than twenty minutes before the gondolier
was back.

"I have spoken to three men I know, signor; they are
agreed that there are no movements among the enemy, and no
one seems to have an idea that the Venetians are about to put
to sea. Of course I was cautious not to let drop a word on the
subject, and only said we had managed to get through the
enemy's cordon to learn the latest news, and I expected to earn
a ducat or two by my night's work."

" That is excellent," Francis said. " Now we will row out
to the sea mouths of the channels to assure ourselves that no
ships are lying on guard there, for some are going in or out
every day to cruise along the coast. A few may have taken
up their station there without attracting notice among the
townspeople."

The opening of the passage known as the Canal of Lombardy
was first visited. To gain this they had to retrace their steps
for some distance and to row through the town of Chioggia,
passing several boats and galleys, but without attracting notice.
They found the mouth of the canal entirely unguarded, and
then returned and rowed out to the mouth of the Brondolo
passage.

Some blazing fires on the shore showed that there were
parties of soldiers here, but no ships were lying anywhere
in the channel. After some consultation they determined that
as no watch seemed to be kept, it would be shorter to row on
outside the islands, and to enter by the third passage to
be examined, that between Pelestrina and Brondolo. Here,
however^ the Genoese were more on the alert, as the Pelestrina
shore was held by the Venetians. Scarcely had they entered

lip^WiT

ill!!!:

356

CHASED.

1*1 i

ill !

the channel when a large row-boat shot out from the shadow
of the shore and hailed them.

" Stop rowing in that boat! Who are you that are entering
so late V"

" Fishermen," Philippo shouted back, but without stopping
rowing.

"Stop!" shouted the officer, "till we examine you I it is
forbidden to enter the channel after dark."

But the gondoliers rowed steadily on until ahead of the
boat coming out. This fell into their wake, and its angry
, officer shouted threats against the fugutives, and exhorted his
men to row their hardest.

" There are two more boats ahead, signor ; they are lying
on their oars to cut us off. One is a good deal further out
than the other, and I don't think we shall gain Pelestrina."

"Then make for the Brondolo shore till we have passed
them," Francis said.

The boat whirled off her course and made towards the shore.
The Genoese galleys ahead at once made towards them; but in
spite of the 'iiinerous oars they pulled the craft could not keep
up with the racing gondola, and it crossed ahead of them. In
another five minutes' rowing the three galleys were well astern,
and the gondola again made out from the shore, her head
pointing obliquely towards Pelestrina. The galleys were no-w
fifty yards behind, and although their crews rowed their
hardest the gotidola gradually gained upon them, and crossing
their bows made over towards Pelestrina.

"We are out of the channel now," Philippo said, "and
there will not be water enough for them to follow us mucli
further."

go
th(

i for

oar

MATTEO HAS AN OPPORTUNITY.

Zfff

stopping
)ul it is

td of the
its angry
lorted his

are lying
irther out
strina."
,ve passed

he shore.

in ; but ill

not keep

hem. In

yell astern,

her head

were no'w

wed their

id crossing

aid, "and
w us mucb

-if.

A minute or two later a sudden shout proclaimed that the
nearest of their pursuers had touched the ground.

" We can take it easy now," Giuseppi said, " and I am not
sorry, for we could not have rowed harder if we had been
racing."

A few minutes later the light craft touched the mud a few
yards distant from the shore.

"Is that you, Francisco?" a voice which Francis recognized
as Matteo's asked.

" All right, Matteo ! " he replied. " No one hurt this time."

" I have been on the look-out for you the last hour. I have
got a body of my men here in case you were chased. We heard
the shouting and guessed it was you."

" If you have got some men there, Matteo, there is a chance
for you to take a prize. A galley rowing twelve or fourteen
oars is in the mud a few hundred yards out. She was chasing
us and ran aground when at full speed, and I imagine they
will have some trouble in getting her off. I suppose she draws
a couple of feet of water. There! don't you hear the hubbub
they are making?"

" I hear them," Matteo said. "Come along, lads. The night
is cold, and I don't suppose the water is any warmer, but a
skirmish will heat our blood." ,

Matteo, followed by a company of some forty men, at once
entered the water and made in the direction of the sounds.
Five minutes later Francis heard shouts and a clashing of wea-
pons suddenly break out. It lasted but a short time. Matteo
and his band soon returned with the prisoners.

"What! have you waited, Francisco? I thought you would
be on the other aide of the island by this time."

I'l

368

"I MUST GO NEVERTHELESS."

"I was in no particular hurry, Matteo; and besides, I want
my boat; and although two men can lift her easily enough she
would be a heavy weight to carry so far."

"You shall have a dozen, Francisco. It is owing to you we
have taken these prisoners and that I have had my first bit of
excitement since I came out here. Sergeant, here are a couple
of ducats. When you have given the prisoners into safe cus-
tody spend the money in wine for the company. The water
is bitterly cold, I can tell you, Francisco; but otherwise I am
warm enough, for one's feet stick to the mud, and it seems
each step as if one had fifty pounds of lead on one's shoes.
But come along to my brother's tent at once. Your feet must
be cold too, though the water was only a few inches deep
where you got out of your boat. A glass of hot wine will do
us both good; and it will be an hour before your boat is in
the water again. Indeed, I don't see the use of your starting
before daybreak."

"Nor do I, Matteo; but I must go nevertheless. Pisani
knows how long it will take me to get to Chioggia and return.
He will allow an hour or two for me to reconnoitre, and will
then be expecting me back. As it is I shall be two hours after
the time when he will be expecting me, for he knows nothing
about the boat being carried across this island, and will make
no allowance for that. Moreover, Polani and his daughters
will be anxious about me."

"Oh, you flatter yourself they will be lying awake for you,"
Matteo said laughing, "thinking over your dangers! Well,
there's nothing like having a good idea of one's self."

Francis joined in the laugh. "It does sound rather con-
ceited, Matteo; but I know they Mali be anxious. They took

"WHY, YOU ARE WET."

359

up the idea it was a dangerous service I was going on, and I
have no doubt they fidgeted over it. Women are always
fancying things, you know."

" I don't know anyone who fidgnts about me," Matteo said;
" but then you see I am not a rescuer of damsels in distress,
nor have I received the thanks of the republic for gallant
actions."

"Well, you ought to have done," Francis replied. "You had
just as much to do with that fight on board Pisani's galley as
I had, only it happened I was in command. Oh, there is your
brother's tent! I see there is a light burning, so I suppose he
has not gone to bed yet."

"All the better," Matteo said; "we shall get our hot wine
all the quicker. My teeth are chattering so I hardly dare
speak for fear of ))iting my tongue."

Francis was warmly welcomed by Rufino Giustiniani.

"I need hardly ask you if you have succeeded in recon-
noitring their positions, for I know you would not come back
before morning had you not carried out your orders. Why,
Matteo, what have you been doing — wading in the mud,
apparently? Why, you are wet up to the waist."

"We have captured an officer and fourteen men, Rufino.
They will be hei e in a few minutes. Their ])oat got stuck fast
while it was chasing Francisco; so we waded out and took
them. They made some resistance, but beyond a few slashes
and two or three thumps from their oars no haini was done."

"That is right, Matteo. I am glad you have had a skirmish
with them at last. Now go in and change your things. I shall
have you on my hands with rheum:* ,m." ,

" I will do that at once, and I hope you will have some hot

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33 WIST MAIN STRUT

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580

(716)872-4903

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360

"YOUR NEV/S IS EXCELLENT.'

spiced wine ready by the time I have changed, for I am nearlj^
frozen."

The embers of a fire outside the tent were soon stirred to-
gether, and in a few minutes the wine was prepared. In the
meantime Francis had been telling Kufino the incidents of his
trip.

In half an hour the message came that the gondola was
again in the water, and Francis was soon on his way back to
the city.

" I was beginning to be anxious about you," was Pisani's
greeting as, upon being informed of his return, he sprang from the
couch on which he had thrown himself for an hour's sleep and
hurried down-stairs. " I reckoned that you might have been
back an hour before this, and began to think that you must
have got into some scrape. Well, what have you discovered?"

" The Genoese have no idea that you are going to put to sea.
Their ships and galleys are, as usual, moored off the quays of
Chioggia. The entrance to the Canal of Lombardy and the
Brondolo passage are both quite open, and there appear to be
no troops anywhere near; but between Pelestrina and Brondolo
they have row-boats watching the entrance, but no craft of any
size. There are a few troops there, but, so far as I could judge
by the number of fires, not more than two hundred men
or so."

"Your news is excellent, Francisco. I will not ask you more
now. It is three o'clock already, and at five I must be up and
doing; so get off to bed as soon as you can. You can give me
the details in the morning."

The gondola was still waiting at the steps, and in a few
minutes Francis arrived at the Palazzo Polani A servant was

"THANK HEAVEN YOU HAVE RETURNED SAFE.

361

sleeping on a bench in the hall; he started up as Francis
entered.

" I have orders to let my master know as soon as you return,
signor."

"You can tell him at the same time that I have returned
without hurt, and pray him not t(T disturb himself, as I can tell
him what has taken place in the morning."
' Polani, however, at once came to Francis' room.

"Thank Heaven you have returned safe to us, my boy!" he
said. "I have just knocked at the girls'doors to tell them of your
return, and, by the quickness with which they answered, I am
sure that they, like myself, have had no sleep. Have you
succeeded in your mission?"

"Perfectly, signor. I have been to Chioggia itself and to
the entrances of the three passages, and have discovered that
none of them are guarded by any force that could resist us."

"But how did you manage to pass through their galleys?"

"I landed on this side of Pelestrina and had the gondola
carried across and launched in the channel inside their cordon;
and it was not until we entered the last passage — that by
Brondolo — that we were noticed. Then there was a sharp
chase for a bit, but we out-stripped them and got safely across to
Pelestrina. One of the galleys, in the excitement of the chase,
ran fast into the mud; and Matteo, with some of his men,
waded out and captured the officer and crew. So there is
every prospect of our succeeding to-morrow."

"All that is good," Polani said ; " but to me just at present
I own that the principal thing is that you have got safely back.
Now I will not keep you from your bed, for I suppose that
you will not be able to lie late in the morning."

"IS HE VERY UNCOMFORTABLEl"

' Francis certainly did not intend to do so, but the sun was high
before he woke. He hurriedly dressed and went down-stairs.

"I have seen the admiral," Polani said as he entered, "and
told him that you were sound asleep, and I did not intend to
wake you, for that you were looking worn and knocked up.
He said: 'Quite right! The lad is so willing and active that
I forget sometimes that he is not an old sea-dog like myself,
accustomed to sleep with one eye open, and to go without
sleep altogether for days if necessary.' So you need not hurry
over your breakfast. The girls are dying to hear your adven-
tures."

As he took his breakfast Francis gave the girls an account
of his expedition.

"And so you saw Rufino!" Maria said. "Did he inquire
after me 1 You told him, I hope, that I, was fading away rapidly
from grief at his absence."

"I did not venture upon so flagrant an untruth as that,"
Francis replied. "

"Is he very uncomfortable?"

"Not very, signora. He has a good tent, some excellent
wine, an allowance of bread which might be larger, and
occasionally fish. As he has also the gift of excellent spirits,
I do not think he is greatly to be pitied — except, of course, for
his absence from you."

" That, of course," Maria said. "When he does come here
he always tells me a moving talc of his privations, in hopes of
exciting pity ; but unfortunately I cannot help laughing at his
tales of hardship. But we were really anxious about you last
night, Francisco, and very thankful when we heard you had
returned; weren't we, Giulia?"

hi i; II 1

THE EXPEDITION STARTS.

363

IS higb
stairs.
, "and
,end to
led up.
sre that
myself,
without
)t hurry
r adven-

account

! inquire
y rapidly

as that,

excellent
^er, and
it spirits,
3urse, for

orae here
hopes of

ing at his
you last
you had

Giulia nodded.

"Giulia hasn't much to say when you are here, Francisco,
but she can chatter about you fast enough when we are alone."

"How can you say so, Maria?" Giulia said reproachfully.

"Well, my dear, there is no harm in that. For aught he
knows you may be saying the most unkind things about him
all the time." ^

" I am sure he knows that I should not do that," Giulia said
indignantly. ,

"By the way, do you know, Francisco, that all Venice is in
a state of excitement! A proclamation has been issued by the
doge this morning that all should be in their galleys and at their
posts at noon, under pain of death. So everyone knows that
something is about to be done at last."

"Then it is time for me to be off," Francis said, rising
hastily, "for it is ten o'clock already."

" Take your time, my lad," the merchant said. " There is
no hurry, for Pisani told me privately that they should not
sail until after dark."

It was not indeed until nearly eight o'clock in the evening
that the expedition started. At the hour of vespers the doge,
Pisani, and the other leaders of the expedition, attended mass
in the church of St. Mark, and then proceeded to their galleys,
where all was now in readiness.

Pisani led the first division, which consisted of fourteen
galleys; the doge, assisted by Cavalli, commanded in the
centre; and Corbaro brought up the rear with ten large ships.
The night was beautifully bright and calm, a light and favour-
able breeze was blowing, and all Venice assembled to see
the departure of the fleet. Just after it passed through the

■H

A FIRST SUCCES&

passage of the Lido a thick mist came on. Fisani stamped up
and down the deck impatiently.

" If this goes on it will ruin us," he said. " Instead of arriv-
ing in proper 0T(*9r at the mouth of the passages, and occupy-
ing them before the Genoese wake up to a sense of their dan-
ger, we shall get there one by one, they will take the alarm,
and we shall have their whole fleet to deal with. It will be
simply ruin to our scheme."

Fortunately, however, the fog speedily lifted, the vessels
closed up together, and in two hours after starting arrived off
the entrances to the channels. Pisani anchored until daylight
appeared, and nearly five thousand men were then landed on
the Brondolo's shore, easily driving back the small detachment
placed there.

But the alarm was soon given, and the Genoese poured out
in such overwhelming force that the Venetians were driven in
disorder to their boats, leaving behind them six hundred killed,
drowned, or prisoners. But Pisani had not supposed that he
would be able to hold his position in front of the whole
Genoese force, and he had succeeded in his main object.
While the fighting had been going on on shore a party of sailors
had managed to moor a great ship laden with stones across the
channel. As soon as the Genoese had driven the Venetians
to their boats they took possession of this vessel, and finding
that she was aground they set her on fire, thus unconsciously
aiding Pisani's object, for when she had burned to the water's
edge she sank.

Barberigo with his light galleys now arrived upon the spot,
and emptied their loads of stone into the passage around the
wreck. The Genoese kept up a heavy fire with their artillery.

A TERRIBLE TASK.

365

aped up

of arriv-
occupy-
[leir dan-
le alarm,
i will be

e vessels
rrived oflf
daylight
anded on
itachment

oured out
driven in
•ed killed,
d that he
;he whole
in object,
of sailors
across the
Venetians
id finding
onsciously
he water's

the spot,
round the
artillery,

many of the galleys were sunk, and numbers of the Venetians
drowned or killed by the shot. Nevertheless they worked
oh unflinchingly. As soon as the pile of stones had risen
sufficiently for the men to stand upon them waist deep they
took their places upon it and packed in order the stones that
their comrades handed them, and fixed heavy chains binding
the whole together.

The work was terribly severe. The cold was bitter. The men
were badly fed, and most of them altogether unaccustomed to
hardships. In addition to the fii'e from the enemy's guns they
were exposed to a rain of arrows, and at the end of two days
and nights they were utterly worn out and exhausted, and pro-
tested that they could do no more.

Pisani, who had himself laboured among them in the thick-
est of the danger, strove to keep up their spirits by pointing
out the importance of their work, and requested the doge to
swear on his sword that, old as he was, he would never return
to Venice unless Chioggia was conquered. The doge took the
oath, and for the moment the murmuring ceased; and on the
night of the 24th the channel of Chioggia was entirely choked
from shore to shore. On that day Corbaro succeeded in sinking
two hulks in the passage of Brondolo.

Doria, who had hitherto believed that the Venetians would
attempt nothing serious, now perceived for the first time the
object of Pisani, and despatched fourteen great galleys to
crush Corbaro, who had with him but four vessels. Pisani at
once sailed to his assistance with ten more ships, and the pas-
sage was now so narrow that the Genoese did not venture to
attack, and Corbaro completed the operation of blocking up the
Ofoondolo passage. The next day the Canal of I ambardy was

366

WORN out AND KXHAUSTED.

similarly blocked; and thus, on the fourth day after leaving
Venice Pisani had accomplished his object, and had shut out
the Genoese galleys from the sea.

But the work had been terrible and the losses great. The
soldiers were on half rations. The cold was piercing. They
were engaged night and day with the enemy, and were con-
tinually wet through, and the labour was tremendous. A fort
had already been begun on the southern shore of the port of
Brondolo facing the convent, which Doria had transformed into
a citadel. The new work was christened the Lova, and the
heaviest guns in the Venetian arsenal were planted there.
One of these, named the Trevisan, discharged stones of a hun-
dred and ninety-five pounds in weight, and the Victory was
little smaller. But the science of artillery was then in its
youth, and these guns could only be discharged once in twenty-
four hours.

But on the 29th the Venetians could do no more, and
officers, soldiers, and sailors united in the demand that they
should return to Venice. Even Pisani felt that the enterprise
was beyond him, and that his men, exhausted by cold, hunger,
and their incessant exertions, could no longer resist the over-
whelming odds brought against him. Still he maintained a
brave front, and once again his cheery words and unfeigned
good temper, and the example set them by the aged doge,
had their effect; but the soldiers required a pledge that if Zeno
should not be signalled in sight by New Year's Day he would
raise the siege. If Pisani and the doge would pledge them-
selves to this, the people agreed to maintain the struggle for
the intervening forty-eight hours.

The pledge was given, and the fight continued. Thus the

':!

'^.

DESPAIKINO.

367

r leaving
shut out

jat. The
g. They
wrere con-
j. A fort
le port of
rmed into
I, and the
bed there,
i of a hun-
ictory was
hen in its
in twenty-
more, and
that they
enterprise
d, hunger,
the over-
intained a
unfeigned
iged doge,
lat if Zeno
he would
dge them-
aniggle for

Thus the

fate of Venice hung in the balance. If Zeno arrived not only
would she be saved, but she had it in her power to inflict upon
Genoa a terrible blow. Should Zeno stil] tarry, not only would
the siege be raised and the Genoese be at liberty to remove
the dams which the Venetians had placed at such a cost of
suffering and blood; but there would be nothing left for
Venice but to accept the terms, however onerous, her trium-
phant foes might dictate, terms which would certainly strip
her of all her possessions, and probably involve even her
independence.

Never from her first foundation had Venice been in such
terrible risk; her very existence trembled in the balance. The
30th passed as the days preceding it. There was but little
fighting, for the Genoese knew how terrible were the straits to
which Venice was reduced, and learned from the prisoners they
had taken that in a few days at the outside the army besieging
them would cease to exist. At daybreak on the 31st men
ascended the masts of the ships and gazed over the sea in hopes
of making out the long-expected sails. But the sea was bare.
It was terrible to see the faces of the Venetians, gaunt with
famine, broken down by cold and fatigue. Even the most
enduring began to despair. Men spoke no more of Zeno. He
had been away for months; was it likely that he would come
just at this moment? They talked rather of their homes; the
next day they would return. If they must die, they would
die with those they loved in Venice. They should not mind
that. And so the day went on, and as they lay down at night
hungry and cold they thanked God that it was their last day.
Whatever might come would be better than this.

Men were at the mast-heads again before daylight on the

368

'*THBRE AR£ SHIPS OtTt AT SEAl'*

1st of J'anuary. Then as the first streak of dawn broke, the
cry went from mast-head to mast-head: . .

" There are ships out at sea!"

The cry was hoard on shore. Pisani jumped into a boat
with Francis, rowed out to his ship, and climbed the mast.

"Yes, there are ships!" he said. And then after a pause:
"Fifteen of them! Who are they? God grant it be Zeno!"

This was the question every one on ship and on shore was
asking himself, for it was known that the Genoese too were
expecting reinforcements.

"The wind is scarce strong enough to move them through
the water," Pisani said; "let some light boats go off to recon-
noitre. Let us know the best or the worst. If it be Zeno,
Venice is saved ! If it be the Genoese, I and those who agree
with me that it is better to die fighting than to perish of
hunger, will go out and attack them."

In a few minutes several fast galleys started for the fleet,
which was still so far away that the vessels could scarcely be
made out, still less their rig and nationality. It would be
some time before the boats would return with the news, and
Pisani went Sishore, and with the doge moved among the men,
exhorting them to be steadfast, above all things not to give
way to panic should the new-comers prove to be enemies.

"If all is done in order," he said, "they cannot interfere
with our retreat to Venice. They do not know how weak we
are, and will not venture to attack so large a fleet. Therefore
when the signal is made that they are Genoese we will fall
back in good order to our boats and take to our ships, and
then either return to Venice or sail out and give battle, as it
may be decided." -

SUBTENSE.

369

broke, the

ito a boat
I mast,
r a pause:
e Zenol"
shore "was

> too were

in through
!" to recon-
b be Zeno,
who agree

> perish of

The boats before starting had been told to hoist white flags
should the galleys be Venetian, but to show no nignal if they
were Genoese. The boats were watched from the mast-heads
until they became specks in the distance. An hour afterwards
the look-out signalled to those on shore that they were return-
ing.

" Go off again, Francisco, I must remain here to keep up the
men's hearts if the news be bad. Take your stand on the
poop of my ship, and the moment the look-outs can say with
certainty whether the boats carry a white flag or not, hoist
the Lion of St. Mark to the mast-head if it be Zeno; if not, run
up a blue flag!"

'^=^^

(451)

li '' I

CHAPTER XX.

THE TRIUMPH OF VENICE. -

RANCIS rowed off to the ship, got the flags in
readiness for hoisting, and stood with the lines in
his hand. . . .; ; .. ,.

"Can you make them out yet?" he hailed the
men at the mast-heads.

" They are mere specks yet, signor," the man at the fore-
mast said; the other did not reply at once, but presently he
shouted down: "Far as they are away, signor, I am almost
sure that one or two of them at least have something white
flying."

There was a murmur of joy from the men on the deck, for
Jacopo Zippo was famous for his keenness of sight.

"Silence, men!" Francis said. "Do not let a man shout or
wave his cap till we are absolutely certain. Remember the
agony with which those on shore are watching us, and the
awful disappointment it would be were their hopes raised only
to be crushed afterwards."

Another ten minutes and Jacopo slid rapidly down by the
stays and stood on the deck with bared head.

" God be praised, signor ! I have no longer a doubt. I can
tell you for certain that white flags are flying from these boats.'

"IT IS ZENO'S fleet!"

371

le flags in
he lines in

hailed the

at the fore-

reseiitly he

am almost

thing white

[he deck, for

lan shout or
Imember the

us, and the
Is raised only

lovm

by the

ioubt. lean
these boats.

"God be praised 1" Francis replied. "Now up with the
Lion!"

The flag was bent to the halyards and Francis hoisted it.
As it rose above the bulwark Pisani, who was standing on a
hillock of sand, shouted out at the top of his voice:

"ItisZeno'sfleet!"

A shout of joy broke from the troops. Cheer after cheer
rent the air from ship and shore, and then the wildest excite-
ment reigned. Some fell on their knees to thank God for the res-
cue thus sent when all seemed lost; others stood with clasped
hands and streaming eyes looking towards heaven. Some
danced and shouted; some wept with joy; men fell on to each
other's necks and embraced; some threw up their caps. All
were wild with joy and pent-up excitement. Zeno, who, in
ignorance of the terrible straits to which his countrymen were
reduced, was making with his fleet direct to Venice, was inter-
cepted by one of the galleys, and at once bore up for Brondolo,
and presently dropped anchor near the shore. As he did so
a boat was lowered and he rowed to the strand, where the
Venetians crowded down to greet him.

With difficulty he made his way through the shouting mul-
titude to the spot a little distance away where the doge was
awaiting him. Zeno was of medium height, square shouldered
and broad chested, his head was manly and handsome, his nose
aquiline, his eyes large, dark, and piercingly bright, and shaded
by strongly-marked eyebrows. His air was grave and thought-
ful, and in strong contrast to that of the merry and buoyant
Pisani; his temper was more equable, but his character was as
impulsive as that of the admiral. He was now forty-five years
of age — ten years the junior of Pisani.

Ill

• '<!' i ll

\,/r.

ii!

372

CARLO ZENa

Zeno was intended for the church, and was presented by the
pope with the reversion of a rich prebendal stall at Patras. On
his way to Padua to complete his studies at the university he
was attacked by robbers, who left him for dead. He recovered,
however, and went to Padua. He became an accomplished
scholar; but was so fond of gambling that he lost every penny,
and was obliged to escape from his creditors by flight. For
five years he wandered over Italy, taking part in all sorts of
ad\ ^nt'""res, and then suddenly returned to Venice, and was
persuaded by his friends to proceed to Patras, where his stall
was now vacant.

When he arrived there he found the city besieged by the
Turks. In spite of his clerical dignity he placed himself in the
front rank of its defenders and distinguished himself by extreme
bravery. He was desperately wounded, and was again believed
to be dead, he was even placed in his 'coffin ; but just as it was
being nailed down he showed signs of returning life. He did
not stay long at Patras, but travelled in Germany, France, and
England. Soon after he returned to Patras he fought a duel,
and thereby forfeited his stall. He now renounced the clerical
profession and married a wealthy heiress; she died shortly
afterwards, and he married the daughter of the Admiral Marco
Giustiniani. —

He now entered upon political life, and soon showed brilliant
talents. He was then appointed to the military command of
the district of Treviso, which the Paduans were then invading.
Here he very greatly distinguished himself, and in numberless
engagements was always successful, so that he became known
as Zeno the unconquered.

When Pisani was appointed captain-general in April, 1378,

■I

THE VENETIANS TAKE THE OFFENSIVE.

373

ted by the
*atras. On
iversity he
recovered,
complished
ery penny,
light. For
all sorts of
e, and was
3re his stall

ged by the
ottself in the
by extreme
lin believed
st as it was
fe. He did
France, and
ight a duel,
;he clerical
led shortly
niral Marco

ed brilliant
ommand of
n invading,
numberless
ame known

he was appointed governor of Negropont, and soon afterwards
received a separate naval command. He had been lost sight
of for many months prior to his appearance so opportunely
before Brondolo, and he now confirmed to the doge the news
that had been received shortly before. He had captured nearly
seventy Genoese vessels of various sizes, had cruised for some
time in sight of Genoa, stnick a heavy blow at her commerce,
and prevented the despatch of the reinforcements promised
to Doria. Among the vessels taken was one which was carrpng
three hundred thousand ducats from Genoa. He reported him-
self ready with his men to take up the brunt of the siege
forthwith, and selecting Brondolo as the most dangerous posi-
tion at once landed his crews. The stores on board ship were
also brought ashore, and proved ample for the present necessities
of the army.

In a few days he sailed with his galleys and recaptured
Loredo, driving out the Paduan garrison there. This conquest
was all-important to Venice, for it opened their communication
with Ferrara, and vast stores of provisions were at once sent by
their ally to Venice, and the pressure of starvation immediately
ceased. The siege of Brondolo was now pushed on, and on the
22d of January the great bombard, the Victory, so battered the
wall opposite to it that it fell suddenly, crushing beneath its
ruins the Genoese commander Doria.

The change which three weeks had made in the appearance
of the Venetian forces was marvellous; ample food, firing, and
shelter had restored their wasted frames, and assurance of
victory had taken the place of the courage of despair. A
month of toil, hardship, and fighting had converted a mob of
recruits into disciplined soldiers, and Zeno and Pisani seemed

Illliil!

874

A NARROW ESGAPa

to have filled all with their own energy and courage; Zeno,
indeed, was so rash and fearless that he had innumerable
escapes from death.

One evening after dusk his own vessel, having been acci-
dentally torn from its anchorage near the Lova Fort by the
force of the wind and currents, was driven across the passage
against the enemy's forts, M'hence showers of missiles were
poured into it. One anow pierced his throat. Dragging it out
he continued to issue his orders for getting the galley off the
shore — bade a seaman swim with a line to the moorings, and
angrily rebuked those who, believing destruction to be inevi-
table, entreated him to strike his flag. The sailor reached the
moorings, and with a line he had taken made fast a strong rope
to it, and the vessel was then hauled off into a place of safety.
As Zeno hurried along the deck superintending the operation
he tumbled down an open hatchway, and fell on his back almost
unconscious.

In a few moments he would have been suffocated by the
blood from the wound in his throat, but with a final effort he
managed to roll over on to his face, the wound was thus per-
mitted to bleed freely and he soon recovered. On the 28th of
February he was appointed general-in-chief of the land forces,
and the next day drove the Genoese from all their positions on
the islands of Brondolo and Little Chioggia, and on the follow-
ing morning established his head-quarters under the ramparts
of Chioggia and directed a destructive fire upon the citadel. As
the Genoese fell back across the bridge over the Canal of Santa
Gaterina the structure gave way under their weight, and great
numbers were drowned.

The retreat of the Genoese was indeed so hurried and

GENOESE REINFORCEMENTS.

376

•age; Zeno,
[inumerable

been acci-
^ort by the
the passage
issiles were
gging it out
lley off the
)oriiigs, and
10 be inevi-
reached the
strong rope
3e of safety,
le operation
back almost

ted by the

al effort he

IS thus per-

the 28th of

and forces,

positions on

the foUow-

le ramparts

csitadel. As

lal of Santa

>, and great

lirried and

•^

'.--'j^'"

confused, and they left behind them an immense quantity of
arms, accoutrements, and war material, so much so that suits
of mail were selling for a few shillings in the Venetian camp.

So completely were the Genoese disheartened by the change
in their position that many thought that the Venetians could at
once have taken Chioggia by assault; but the leaders were deter-
mined to risk no failure, and knew that the enemy must yield
to hunger. They therefore contented themselves with a rigorous
blockade, cutting off all the supplies which the Lord of Padua
endeavoured to throw into the city. The Venetians, however,
allowed the besieged to send away their women and children,
who were taken to Venice and kindly treated there. The army
of Venice had now been vastly increased by the arrival of the
Star Company of Milan and the Condottieri commanded by
Sir John Hawkwood. The dikes erected across the channels
with so much labour were removed, and the fleet took their
part in the siege.

On the 14th of May there was joy in Chioggia similar to
that which the Venetians had felt at the sight of Zeno's fleet,
for on that morning the squadron which Genoa had sent to
their assistance under the command of Matteo Maruffo appeared
in sight. This admiral had wasted much valuable time on the
way, but had fallen in with and captured, after a most gallant
resistance, five Venetian galleys under Giustiniani, who had
been despatched to Apulia to fetch grain.

The Genoese fleet drew up in order of battle and challenged
Pisani to come out to engage them. But impetuous as was the
disposition of the admiral, and greatly as he longed to avenge
his defeat at Pola, he refused to stir. He knew that Chioggia
must ere long fall, and he would not risk all the advantages

1! •■i.£*fcrf»«WJ.y. , ^**iU«Mrf«,rfva-.*£d

ill;

; £

376

A COWABXtLT BETBEAT.

gained by so many months of toil and effort upon the hazard
of a battle. Day after day MaruflFo repeated his challenge,
accompanied by such insol'»'^t taunts that the blood of the
Venetian sailors was so stirred that Pisani could no longer
restrain them.

After obtaining leave from the doge to go out and give battle
he sailed into the roadstead on the 25th. The two fleets drew
up in line of battle, facing each other. Just as the combat was
about to commence a strange panic seized the Genoese, and,
without exchanging a blow or firing a shot, they fled hastily.
Pisani pursued them for some miles and then returned to his
old station. The grief and despair of the garrison of Chioggia
at the sight of the retreat of their fleet was in proportion to the
joy with which they had hailed its approach. Their supply of
fresh water was all but exhausted; their rations had become so
scanty that from sheer weakness they were unable, after the first
week in June, to work their guns.

Genoa, in despair at the position of her troops, laboured un-
ceasingly to relieve them. Emissaries were sent to tamper
with the free companies, and succeeded so far that these would
have marched away had they not been appeased by the promise
of a three days' sack of Chioggia, and a month's extra pay at
the end of the war. Attempts were made to assassinate Zeno,
but these also failed. The Genoese then induced the pope to
intercede on their behalf; but the council remembered that
when Venice was at the edge of destruction on the 31st of
December no power had come forward to save her, and refused
now to be robbed of the well-earned triumph.

On the ir»th of July Maruffo, who had received reinforce-
ments, again made his appearance; but Pisani this time refused

OHIOGGIA SURRENDERS.

377

the hazard
challenge,

5od of the
no longer

give battle
fleets drew
combat was
inoese, and,
led hastily.
Lined to his
of Chioggia
►rtion to the
ir supply of
1 become so
Eter the first

Eiboured un-
to tamper
these would
the promise
xtra pay at
iinate Zeno,
the pope to
ibered that
the 31st of
and refused

d reinforce-
ime refused

to be tempted out. On the 21st a deputation was sent out
from Chioggia to ask for terms, and though on being told that

':%. an unconditional surrender alone would be accepted, they
returned to the city, yet the following day the Genoese flag
was hauled down from the battlements.

vM On the 24th the doge, accompanied by Pisani and Zeno,
",* made his fonnal entry into Chioggia. The booty was enor-
mous; and the companies received the promised bounty, and
were allowed to pillage for three days. So large was the

I plunder collected in this time by the adventurers that the
share of one of them amounted to five hundred ducats. The
republic, however, did not come off altogether without spoil —
they obtained nineteen sea-worthy galleys, foui* thousand four
hundred and forty prisoners, and a vast amount of valualjle
stores, the salt alone being computed as worth ninety thousand
crowns.

Not even when the triumphant fleet returned after the con-
quest of Constantinople was Venice so wild with delight as
when the doge, accompanied by Pisani and Zeno, entered the
city in triumph after the capture of Chioggia. From the danger,
more imminent than any that had threatened Venice from her
first foundation, they had emerged with a success which would
cripple the strength and lower the pride of Genoa for years.
Each citizen felt that he had some share in the triumph, for each
had taken his share in the sufferings, the sacrifices, and the
eflForts of the struggle. There had been no unmanly giving way
to despair, no pitiful entreaty for aid in their peril. Venice had
relied upon herself, and had come out triumphant.

From every house hung flags and banners, every balcony was
hung with tapestry and drapery. The Grand Canal was closely

378

A TRIUMPHAL ENTRY.

packed with gondolas, which for once disregarded the sump-
tuary law that enforced black as their only hue, and shone in a
mass of colour ; gaily dressed ladies sat beneath canopies of silk
and velvet; flags floated from every boat, and the rowers were
dressed in the bright liveries of their employers; the church
bells rang out with a deafening clang, and from roof and bal-
cony, from wharf and river, rang out a mighty shout of welcome
and triumph from the crowded mass, as the great state gondola,
bearing the doge and the two commanders, made its way slowly
and with difficulty along the centre of the canal.

Francis was on board one of the gondolas that followed in
the wake of that of the doge, and as soon as the grand service
in St. Mark's was over he slipped off and made his way back
to the Palazzo Polani. The merchant and Giulia had both
been present at the ceremony, and had just returned when
he arrived.

" I guessed you would be off at once, Francisco, directly the
ceremony war, jver. I own that I myself would have stayed for
a time to see the grand doings in the Piazza, but this child
would not hear of our doing so; she said it would be a, shame
indeed if you should arrive home and find no one to greet
you."

"So it would have been," Giulia said. "I am sure I should not
have liked when I have been away, even on a visit of pleasure to
Corfu, to return and find the house empty; and after the terrible
dangers and hardships you have gone through, Francisco, it
would have been unkind indeed had we not been here. You
still look thin and worn."

"I think that is fancy on your part, Giulia; to my eyes he looks
as stout as ever I saw him. But certainly he looked as lean and

'^'V

'l!!|||||ii^

PEACE ASSURED.

379

the sump-
shone in a
pies of silk
>wers were
bhe church
)f and bal-
of welcome
te gondola,
way slowly

oUowed in
md service
} way back
, had both
rned when

lirectly the

stayed for

this child

be a shame

le to greet

should not
pleasure to
he terrible
ancisco, it
Here. You

es he looks
as lean and

famished as a wolf when I paid that visit to the canip the day
before Zeno's arrival; his clothes hung loose about him, his
cheeks were hollow, and his eyes sunken ; he would have been
a sight for men to stare at had not every one else been in an
equally bad case. Well, I thank God there is an end of it now !
•■:^ Genoa will be glad to make peace on any terms, and the sea will
once more be open to our ships. So now, Francisco, you have
done with fighting, and will be able to turn your attention to
the humbler occupation of a merchant."

" That will I right gladly," Francis said. " I used to think
once I should like to be a man-at-arms; but I have seen enough
of it, and hope never will draw my sword again, unless it be in
conflict with some Moorish rover. I have had many letters from
my father, chiding me for mingling in frays in which I have no
concern, and shall be able to gladden his heart by writing to
assure him that I have done with fighting."

" It has done you no harm, Francisco, or rather it has done
you much good. It has given you the citizenship of Venice, in
itself no slight advantage to you as a trader here; it has given
you three hundred ducats a year, which, as a mark of honour,
is not to be despised; it has won for you a name throughout the
republic, and has given you a fame and popularity such as few,
if any, citizens of Venice ever attained at your age. Lastly, it
has made a man of you; it has given you confidence and self-
possession; you have acquired the habit of commanding men;
you have been placed in positions which have called for the exer-
cise of rare judgment, prudence, and courage; and you have come
well through it all. It is but four years since your father left
you a lad in my keeping ; now you are a man, whom the highest
noble in Venice might be proud of calling his son. You have

I '

380

"1 LOVE YOUR DAUGHTER.'

no reason to regret, therefore, that you have for a year taken
up soldiering instead of trading, especially as our business was
all stopped by the war, and you must have passed your time in
inactivity."

In the evening when the merchant and Francis were alone
together the former said :

" I told you last autumn, Francis, when I informed you that
henceforth you would enter into my house as a partner in the
business when we again* recommenced trade, that I had some-
thing else in my mind, but the time to speak of it had not then
arrived. I think it has now come. Tell me, my boy, frankly,
if there is anything that you would wish to ask of me."

Francis was silent for a moment ; then he said :

" You have done so much, Si^nor Polani ; you have heaped
kindness upon me altogether beyond anything I could have
hoped for, that even did I wish for more I could not ask it."

" Then L'.iere is something more you would like, Francisco.
Remember that I have told you that I regard you as a son,
and therefore I wish you to speak to me as frankly as if I was
really your father."

" I fear, signor, that you will think me audacious, but since
you thus urge upon me to speak all that is in my mind 1
cannot but tell you the truth. I love your daughter, Giulia,
and have done so ever since the first day that my eyes fell on
her. It has seemed to me too much even to hope that she
can ever be mine, and I have been careful in letting no
word expressive of my feelings pass my lips. It still seems to
me beyond the bounds of possibility that I could successfully
aspire to the hand of the daughter of one of the noblest families
in Venice."

7#i^;l

rear taken
.siness was
rtir time in

v^ere alone

id you that
bner in the
had some-
d not then
y, frankly,
ae.

ave heaped
could have
t ask it."

Francisco,
as a son,

as if I was

i, but since
ny mind 1
ter, Giulia,
3yes fell on
>e that she
letting no
11 seems to
uccessfully
9st families

I I

i '

£-,.ri„,.,,.. ,:. .■^..•";^^M^u^^,-..i^^

"ALL DIFFICULTIES ARE AT AN END."

381

" I am glad you have spoken frankly, dear lad," the merchant

id. " Ever since you rescued my daughters from the hands
Mocenigo it has been on my mind that some day perhaps

u would be my son-in-law as well as my son by adoption.

have watched with approval that as Giulia grew from a child
^to a young woman her liking for you seemed to ripen into
iiSection. This afternoon I have spoken to her, and she has
l^eknowledged that she would obey my commands to regard

u as her future husband with gladness.

" I could not, however, offer my daughter's hand to one who

ght reject it, or who, if he accepted it, would only do so
because he considered the match to be a desirable one from a
business point of view. Now that you have told me you love
her, all difficulties are at an end. I am not one of those fathers
who would force a marriage upon their daughters regardless of
their feelings. I gave to Maria free choice among her various
suitors, and so I would give it to Giulia. Her choice is in
accordance with my own secret hopes, and I therefore freely
and gladly bestow her upon you. You must promise only that
you do not carry her away altogether to England so long as I
live. You can, if you like, pay long visits with her from time
to time to your native country, but make Venice your head-
quarters.

"I need say nothing to you about her dowry. I intended
that as my partner you should take a fourth share of the profits
of the business, but as Giulia's husband I shall now propose
that you have a third; this will give you an income equal to
that of all but the wealthiest of the nobles of Venice. At my
death my fortune will be divided between my girls."

Francis expressed in a few words his joy and gratitude at the

382

00 IN TO HER NOW.

,W' il

merchant's offer. Giulia had inspired him four years before
with a boyish love, atid it had steadily increased until he
felt that, however great his success in life as Messer Polani's
partner, his hui)pincss would be incomplete unless shared by
(jiiulia

Polani cut short his words by saying :

" My dear boy, I am as pleased that this should be so as you
are; I now feel that I have indeed gained a son and secured
the happiness of my daughter. Go in to her now; you will find
her in the embroidery room. I told her that I should speak
to you this evening, and she is doubtless in a tremble as to
the result, for she told me frankly that although she loved you
she feared you only regarded her with the affection of a brother,
and she implored me above all not to give you a hint of her
feelings towards you until I was convinced that you really
loved her."

Two months later the marriage of Francis Hammond and
Giulia Polani took place. There were great festivities, and
the merchant spent a considerable sum in giving a feast on the
occasion to all the poor of Venice.

Maria told Francis in confidence that she had always made
up her mind that he would marry Giulia.

" The child was silly enough to fall in love with you from the
first, Francisco, and I was sure that you in your dull English
fashion cared for her. My father confided to me long since
that he hoped it would come about."

Francis Hammond lived for many years with his wife in
Venice, paying occasional visits to England. He was joined
soon after his marriage by his brother, who, after serving for
spme years in the business, entered it as a partner, when Messer

A LONDON MEROHANT.

383

Polani's increasing years rendered it necessary for him to retire
from an actrvo participation i i it.

Some months after his maniiigo Francis was saddened by the
death of Admiral Pisani, who never recovered from the fatigue
and hardships he suffered during the siege of Chioggia. He
had, with the fleet, recovered most of the places that the
Genoese had captured, and after chasing a Genoese fleet to
Zara had a partial engagement with them there. In this,
Corbaro, now holding the commission of admiral of the squad-
ron, was killed, and Pisani himself wounded. He was already
suffering from fever, and the loss of Corbaro and the check
that the fleet had suffered increased his malady, and he expired
three days later.

Venice made peace with Genoa, but the grudge which she
bore to Padua was not wiped out until some years later, when,
in 1404, that city was besieged by the Venetians and forced
by famine to surrender in the autumn of the following year;
after which Zeno, having been proved to have kept up secret
communications with the Lord of Padua, was deprived of his
honours and sentenced to a year's imprisonment. Thus in turn
the two great Venetian commanders suffered disgrace and im-
prisonment. As she had been patient and steadfast in her
time of distress Venice was clement in her hour of triumph,
and granted far more favourable terms to Padua than that city
deserved.

At the death of Messer Polani Francis returned with his
wife and family to England and established himself in London,
where he at once took rank as one of the leading merchants.
His fortune, however, was so large that he had no occasion to
continue in commerce, and he did so only to afford him a

i iaUl><

384

BETWEEN TWO CITIES.

certain amount of occupation. His brother carried on the
business in Venice and became one of the leading citizens there,
in partnership with Matteo Giustiniani. Every two or three
years Francis made a voyage with his wife to Venice and spent
some months there, and to the end of his life never broke off
his close connection with the City of the Waters.

THE ENIX

•tir *■

Tied on the
itizeiis there,
two or three
ice and spent
ver broke off

■mm