“Francisco is different,” Maria said, not observing the signs Francis was making for her to be silent.  “Francisco has got eyes in his head, and a brain in his skull, which is more, it seems, than any of the Venetians have; and had he not brought father to our hiding place, there we should have remained until Ruggiero Mocenigo came and carried us away.”

“Francisco brought your father the news!” Matteo exclaimed in astonishment.  “Why, was it he who found you out, after all?”

“Did you not know that, Matteo?  Of course it was Francisco!  As I told you, he has got brains; and if it had not been for him, we should certainly never have been rescued.  Giulia and I owe him everything—­don’t we, Giulia?”

“Forgive me for not telling you, Matteo,” Francis said to his astonished friend; “but Signor Polani, and my father, both impressed upon me so strongly that I should keep silent as to my share in the business, that I thought it better not even to mention it to you at present.  It was purely the result of an accident.”

“It was nothing of the sort,” Maria said.  “It was the result of your keeping your eyes open and knowing how to put two and two together.  I did not know, Francisco, that it was a secret.  We have not seen our father since we have returned, and I suppose he thought we should see nobody until he saw us again, and so did not tell us that we were not to mention your name in the affair; but we will be careful in future.”

“But how was it, Francisco?” Matteo asked.  “Now I know so much as this, I suppose I can be told the rest.  I can understand well enough why it was to be kept a secret, and why my cousin is anxious to get you out of Venice at once.”

Francis related the manner in which he first became acquainted with the existence of the hut on the island, and the fact of its being frequented by Ruggiero Mocenigo; and how, on catching sight of the gouvernante in a gondola, and seeing her make out across the lagoons, the idea struck him that the girls were confined in the hut.

“It is all very simple, you see, Matteo,” he concluded.

“I will never say anything against learning to row a gondola in future,” Matteo said, “for it seems to lead to all sorts of adventures; and unless you could have rowed well, you would never have got back to tell the story.  But it is certain that it is a good thing you are leaving Venice for a time, for Ruggiero’s friends may find out the share you had in it from some of my cousin’s servants.  You may be sure that they will do their best to discover how he came to be informed of the hiding place, and he is quite right to send you off at once.”

“What! are you going away, Francisco?” the two girls exclaimed together.

“I am sailing tomorrow in one of your father’s ships, signoras.”

“And you are not coming back again?” Maria exclaimed.

“I hope to have the pleasure of seeing you again before very long, signora.  I am entering your father’s service for good, and shall be backwards and forwards to Venice as the ship comes and goes.  My father is returning to England, and Signor Polani has most kindly requested me to make my home with him whenever I am in port.”