“That is better,” Maria said.  “We should have a pretty quarrel with papa if he had let you go away altogether, after what you have done for us—­

“Shouldn’t we, Giulia?”

But Giulia had walked away to the window, and did not seem to hear the question.

“That will be very pleasant,” Maria went on; “for you will be back every two or three months, and I shall take good care that papa does not send the ship off in a hurry again.  It will be almost as good as having a brother; and I look upon you almost as a brother now, Francisco—­and a very good brother, too.  I don’t think that man will molest us any more.  If I thought there was any chance of it, I should ask papa to keep you for a time, because I should feel confident that you would manage to protect us somehow.”

“I do not think there is the slightest chance of more trouble from him,” Francis said.  “He is sure of a long term of imprisonment for carrying you off.”

“That is the least they can do to him, I should think,” Maria said indignantly.  “I certainly shall not feel comfortable while he is at large.”

After half an hour’s talk Francis and his friend took their leave.

“You certainly were born with a silver spoon in your mouth,” Matteo said as they took their seats in the gondola, “and my cousin does well to get you out of Venice at once, for I can tell you there are scores of young fellows who would feel jealous at your position with my cousins.”

“Nonsense!” Francis said, colouring.  “How can you talk so absurdly, Matteo?  I am only a boy, and it will be years before I could think of marriage.  Besides, your cousins are said to be the richest heiresses in Venice; and it is not because I have been able to be of some slight service to them, that I should venture to think of either of them in that way.”

“We shall see,” Matteo laughed.  “Maria is a little too old for you, I grant, but Giulia will do very well; and as you have already come, as Maria says, to be looked upon by them as a brother and protector, there is no saying as to how she may regard you in another two or three years.”

“The thing is absurd, Matteo,” Francis said impatiently.  “Do not talk such nonsense any more.”

Matteo lay back in his seat and whistled.

“I will say no more about it at present, Francisco,” he said, after a pause; “but I must own that I should be well content to stand as high in the good graces of my pretty cousins as you do.”

The next morning Francis spent some time with his father talking over future arrangements.