nd 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 are at work cutting through two
planks in their bulkhead; after which we shall be able to meet in the
next hold, arm ourselves, 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 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."

"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 today."

"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 sailing in company with
us. And now, if you have nothing to say, I will go off to sleep again,
for there is time for another hour or two. I feel as if I had not quite
finished my night's rest, and the days pass 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 peephole 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 ha