Francis was a well built lad of nearly sixteen.  He had, until he left London when about twelve years old, taken his full share in the rough sports which formed so good a training for the youths of England, and in which the citizens of London were in no way behind the rest of the kingdom.  He had practised shooting with a light bow and arrows, in company with boys of his own age, in the fields outside the city walls; had engaged in many a rough tussle with light clubs and quarterstaffs; and his whole time—­except for an hour or two daily which he had, as the son of a well to do citizen, spent in learning to read and write—­had been occupied in games and exercises of one kind or other.

Since his arrival in Venice he had not altogether discontinued his former habits.  At his earnest solicitation, his father had permitted him to attend the School of Arms, where the sons of patricians and well-to-do merchants learned the use of sword and dagger, to hurl the javelin, and wield the mace and battleaxe; and was, besides, a frequenter of some of the schools where old soldiers gave private lessons in arms to such as could afford it; and the skill and strength of the English lad excited no slight envy among the young Venetian nobles.  Often, too, he would go out to one of the sandy islets, and there setting up a mark, practise with the bow.  His muscles too, had gained strength and hardness by rowing.  It was his constant habit of an evening, when well away from the crowded canals in the gondola, with Giuseppi, the son and assistant of his father’s gondolier, to take an oar, for he had thoroughly mastered the difficult accomplishment of rowing well in a gondola; but he only did this when far out from the city, or when the darkness of evening would prevent his figure from being recognized by any of his acquaintances, for no Venetian of good family would demean himself by handling an oar.  Francis, however, accustomed to row upon the Thames, could see no reason why he should not do the same in a gondola, and in time he and his companion could send the boat dancing over the water, at a rate which enabled them to overtake and distance most pair-oared boats.

After breakfast next morning he went down to the steps, where Beppo and Giuseppi, in their black cloth suits with red sashes round their waists, were waiting with the gondola in which Mr. Hammond was going out to Malamocco, to examine a cargo which had the day before arrived from Azoph.  Giuseppi jumped ashore.

“I have heard of just the gondola to suit you, Messer Francisco, and you can get her a bargain.”

“What is she like, Giuseppi?”

“She belongs to a man out at Lido.  She was built for the race two years ago, but her owner fell sick and was unable to start.  He has not got strong again, and wants to sell his boat, which is far too light for ordinary work.  They say she is almost like an eggshell, and you and I will be able to send her along grandly.  She cost four ducats, but he will sell her for two.”