pulled past the
tower into the sheltered bay beyond.

Then a vessel loomed up suddenly under the great cliffs, and a moment
later he was under her side, tapping softly against the planking. The
boys held their breath and watched him. Presently a dark head appeared
above the bulwarks and remained stationary for a while. Antonino stood
up in his boat so as to lessen the distance and make himself more easily
recognisable. Then a hand appeared beside the head and made a gesture,
then dived down and came up again with the end of a rope, lowering it
down into the boat. Antonino gave the line to Ruggiero and then stepped
off upon the great hook on the martingane's side to which the chain
links for beaching, got hold of the after shroud and swung himself on
board.

Now it may be as well to say here what a martingane is. She is a
good-sized, decked vessel, generally between five-and-twenty and a
hundred tons, with good beam and full bows, narrow at the stern and
rather high out of water unless very heavily laden. She has one stout
mast, cross-trees, and a light topmast. She has an enormous yard, much
longer than herself, on which is bent the high peaked mainsail. She
carries a gaff-top-sail, fore-staysail, jib and flying-jib, and can rig
out all sorts of light sails when she is before the wind. She is a good
sea boat, but slow and clumsy, and needs a strong crew to handle her.

The two boys who sat in the fishing boat alongside the martingane on
that dark night had no idea that all sea-going vessels were not called
ships; but there was something mysteriously attractive to them in the
black hull, the high tapering yard, and the shadowy rigging. They were
certainly not imaginative boys, but they could not help wondering where
the great dark thing had been and whither she might be going. They did
not know what going to sea meant, nor what real deep-sea vessels were
like, and they even fancied that this one might have been to America.
But they understood well enough that they were to make no noise, and
they kept their reflections to themselves, silently holding on to the
end of the rope as they sat in their places.

They did not wait very long. In a few minutes Antonino and the other man
came to the side, carrying an odd-looking black bundle, sewn up in what
Ruggiero felt was oiled canvas as he steadied it down into the stern of
the little boat, and neatly hitched round from end to end with
spun-yarn, so as to be about the shap