My bones ache perpetually with lying on the bare ground, and if I escape from this, without being a cripple for life from rheumatism, I shall consider myself lucky, indeed.

You are a fortunate fellow, Francisco; spending your time in the admiral's comfortable palace, or flying about in a smooth-rowing gondola!" "That is one side of the question certainly," Francis said, laughing; "but there is a good deal of hard work, too, in the way of writing." "I should not like that," Matteo said.

"Still, I think you have the best of it.

If the Genoese would come sometimes, and try and drive us off the island, there would be some excitement.

But, except when the admiral wishes a reconnaissance, or Barberigo's galleys come down and stir them up, there is really nothing doing here." "That ought to suit you exactly, Matteo, for never but once did I hear you say you wanted to do anything." "When was that ?" Rufino asked, laughing.
"Matteo conceived a violent desire to climb Mount Etna," Francis said, "and it needed all my arguments to prevent his leaving the ship at Girgenti, while she was loading, and starting to make the ascent." "He would have repented before he had gone a quarter of the way up," Rufino said.
"I might have repented," Matteo replied stoutly, "but I would have done it, if I had begun.