er, "that we're just as well out of that."

"I agree with you, Jack; but it's also my opinion that we should be just
as well out of this, for the wind blows through one. Suppose we go a
little farther inland, where we may find some shelter till the morning."

"It's rather dark to find anything," rejoined our hero; "but, however, a
westerly gale on the top of a mountain with wet clothes in the middle of
the night with nothing to eat or drink, is not the most comfortable
position in the world, and we may change for the better."

They proceed over a flat of a hundred yards, and then descended--the
change in the atmosphere was immediate. As they continued their march
inland, they came to a high-road, which appeared to run along the shore,
and they turned into it; for, as Jack said very truly, a road must lead
to something. After a quarter of an hour's walk, they again heard the
rolling of the surf, and perceived the white walls of houses.

"Here we are at last," said Jack. "I wonder if any one will turn out to
take us in, or shall we stow away for the night in one of those vessels
hauled up on the beach?"

"Recollect this time, Easy," said Gascoigne, "not to show your money;
that is, show only a dollar, and say you have no more, or promise to pay
when we arrive at Palermo; and if they will neither trust us, nor give
to us, we must make it out as we can."

"How the cursed dogs bark! I think we shall do very well this time,
Gascoigne: we do not look as if we were worth robbing, at all events,
and we have the pistols to defend ourselves with if we are attacked.
Depend upon it I will show no more gold. And now let us make our
arrangements. Take you one pistol, and take half the gold--I have it
all in my right-hand pocket--my dollars and pistarenes in my left. You
shall take half of them too. We have silver enough to go on with till
we are in a safe place."

Jack then divided the money in the dark, and also gave Gascoigne a
pistol.

"Now then, shall we knock for admittance?--Let's first walk through the
village, and see if there's anything like an inn. Those yelping curs
will soon be at our heels; they come nearer and nearer every time.
There's a cart, and it's full of straw--suppose we go to bed till
to-morrow morning--we shall be warm, at all events."

"Yes," replied Gascoigne, "and sleep much better than in any of the
cottages. I have been in Sicily before, and you have no idea how the
fleas bite."

Our