“The Lido will go down to Sicily, and fill up there with corn.  You will have to use care before entering port, for with war now certain, both parties will begin to snap up prizes when they get the chance.  So you must keep a sharp lookout for Genoese galleys.  If you find the coast is too closely watched, you will go to the Moorish ports.  We are friends with them at present, though doubtless, as soon as Genoa and ourselves get to blows, they will be resuming their piratical work.  Thus you will, this time, take in a much smaller amount of cargo, as you will have to pay for the most part in gold.”

It mattered little to Francis where he voyaged; but Matteo, who had been greatly delighted at the thought of sailing with his friend, was much disappointed when he heard that they were only going to fetch grain from Sicily.

“Why, it is nothing to call a voyage,” he said in tones of disgust, when Francis told him the destination of the Lido.  “I had hoped we were going to make a long voyage, and touch at all sorts of places, just as you did last time.”

“I do not see that it matters much, Matteo; and we shall learn navigation just as well from one course as another.  The voyage will not be a long one, unless we meet with unfavourable winds; but there’s no saying what may happen, and you may meet with adventure, even on a voyage to Sicily and back.”

The trip down to Sicily was quickly made.  Francis had worked hard on his first voyage, and was now able to make daily calculations as to the run made, the course steered, and the position of the ship, and found that these tallied closely with those of the captain.  Matteo and he shared a large and handsome cabin, and the time passed pleasantly as the vessel ran down the coast of Italy.  Once out of the Adriatic a sharp lookout was kept, but the coast of Sicily was made without seeing any sails of a suspicious character.

The lads were struck with surprise and admiration when, on coming on deck in the morning, they saw the great cone of Etna lying ahead of them.  Neither of them had ever seen a mountain of any size, and their interest in the scene was heightened by a slight wreath of smoke, which curled up from the summit of the hill.

“It is well worth a voyage, if it were only to see that mountain,” Francis said.  “What an immense height it is, and how regular in its shape!”

“And yet,” Matteo said, “those who have journeyed from Italy into France tell me that there are mountains there beside which Etna is as nothing.  These mountains are a continuation of the range of hills which we can see from Venice.  Their tops are always covered with snow, and cannot be ascended by man; whereas it is easy, they say, to reach the top of Etna.”

“Yes, that looks easy enough,” Francis agreed.  “It seems such a regular slope, that one could almost ride up; but I dare say, when you are close you would find all sorts of difficult places.”