“I will not oblige you to use force, captain,” Francis said, smiling, “and will do as you wish me.”

In five minutes the men were all—­save four, whom the captain had selected—­in the boat, and rowing towards shore.  Matteo was awaiting them when they landed.

“That is right, Francisco.  I was half afraid you would stay on board.  I know how obstinate you are whenever you take a thing into your head.”

“The captain was more obstinate still, Matteo, and said that unless I came away he would send me on shore by force; but I don’t like deserting the ship.”

“That is nonsense, Francisco.  If the Genoese take her, they take her, and your remaining on board could not do any good.  What are you going to do now?”

“We will at once leave the place with the men, Matteo, and retire into the country behind.  It is not likely the Genoese would land and seize us here, but they might do so, or the inhabitants, to please Genoa, might seize us and send us on board.  At any rate, we shall be safer in the country.”

The men had, by the captain’s orders, brought their arms ashore on leaving the ship.  This was the suggestion of Francis, who said that, were they unarmed, the people might seize them and hand them over to the Genoese.  At the head of this party, which was about fifty strong, Francis marched up through the little town and out into the country.  He had really but little fear, either that the Genoese would arrest them on shore, or that the people would interfere with them, for they would not care to risk the anger of Venice by interfering in such a matter.  He thought it probable, however, that if his men remained in the town, broils would arise between them and any of the Genoese sailors who might land.

As soon as the Genoese galleys came up to the head of the bay, a boat was lowered and rowed to the Lido, at whose masthead the Venetian flag was flying.  An officer, followed by six men, climbed up on to the deck.

“Are you the captain of this ship?” the officer asked as the captain approached him.

“I am,” the captain said.

“What ship is it?”

“It is the Lido, the property of Messer Polani, a merchant of Venice, and laden with a cargo of wheat.”

“Then you are my prisoner,” the Genoese said.  “I seize this vessel as lawful prize.”

“There is peace between the republics,” the captain said.  “I protest against the seizure of this ship, as an act of piracy.”

“We have news that several of our ships have been seized by the Venetians,” the officer said; “and we therefore capture this vessel in reprisal.  Where are your crew?”

“There are only four on board,” the captain said.  “We have filled up our cargo, and were going to sail tomorrow, and therefore the rest of the crew were allowed to go on shore; and I do not think it is likely that they will return now,” for one of the Genoese sailors had hauled down the flag of Venice, and had replaced it with that of Genoa.