ough for them to follow us much further."

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 lookout 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 weapons 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
side of the island by this time."

"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 custody, 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