“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, miserably, 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 not 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 know, a vessel has already carried tidings thither of the depredation of a Moorish cruiser, 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 that 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 depends 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 be 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.