et.

How good it felt to be free! The very street itself seemed like an old
friend, welcoming him with open arms. On and on he ran until he came to
the city gates of San Frediano, there to wait until he could slip
through unnoticed when the gates were opened at the dawn of day. Then
on again until Florence and the convent were left behind and the whole
world lay before him.

There was no difficulty about living, for the people gave him food and
money, and good-natured countrymen would stop their carts and offer him
a lift along the straight white dusty roads. So by and by he reached
Ancona and saw for the first time the sea.

Filippo gazed and gazed, forgetting everything else as he drank in the
beauty of that great stretch of quivering blue, while in his ears
sounded words which he had almost forgotten--words which had fallen on
heedless ears at matins or vespers--and which never had held any
meaning for him before: 'And before the throne was a sea of glass, like
unto crystal.'

He stood still for a few minutes and then the heavenly vision faded,
and like any other boy he forgot all about beauty and colour, and only
longed to be out in a boat enjoying the strange new delight.

Very lucky he thought himself when he reached the shore to find a boat
just putting of, and to hear himself invited to jump in by the boys who
were going for a sail.

Away they went, further and further from the shore, laughing and
talking. The boys were so busy telling wonderful sea-tales to the young
stranger that they did not notice how far they had gone. Then suddenly
they looked ahead and sat speechless with fear.

A great Moorish galley was bearing down upon them, its rows of oars
flashed in the sunlight, and its great painted sails towered above
their heads. It was no use trying to escape. Those strong rowers easily
overtook them, and in a few minutes Filippo and his companions were
hoisted up on board the galley.

It was all so sudden that it seemed like a dream. But the chains were
very real that were fastened round their wrists and ankles, and the
dark cruel faces of the Moors as they looked on smiling at their misery
were certainly no dream.

Then followed long days of misery when the new slaves toiled at the
oars under the blazing sun, and nights of cold and weariness. Many a
time did Filippo long for the quiet convent, the kindly brothers, and
the long peaceful days. Many a time did he long to hear the bells
calling him t