illiantly shown. The
historical portion of the story is drawn from Hazlitt's History of the
Republic of Venice, and with it I have woven the adventures of an
English boy, endowed with a full share of that energy and pluck which,
more than any other qualities, have made the British empire the
greatest the world has ever seen.

G. A. Henty.

Chapter 1: Venice.

"I suppose you never have such nights as these in that misty island of
yours, Francisco?"

"Yes, we have," the other said stoutly. "I have seen just as bright
nights on the Thames. I have stood down by Paul's Stairs and watched
the reflection of the moon on the water, and the lights of the houses
on the bridge, and the passing boats, just as we are doing now.

"But," he added honestly, "I must confess that we do not have such
still, bright nights very often, while with you they are the rule,
though sometimes even here a mist rises up and dims the water, just as
it does with us."

"But I have heard you say that the stars are not so bright as we have
them here."

"No, I do not think they are, Matteo. I do not remember now, but I do
know, when I first came here, I was struck with the brightness of the
stars, so I suppose there must have been a difference."

"But you like this better than England? You are glad that your father
came out here?"

Francis Hammond did not answer at once.

"I am glad he came out," he said after a pause, "because I have seen
many things I should never have seen if I had stayed at home, and I
have learned to speak your tongue. But I do not know that I like it
better than home. Things are different, you see. There was more fun at
home. My father had two or three apprentices, whom I used to play with
when the shop was closed, and there were often what you would call
tumults, but which were not serious. Sometimes there would be a fight
between the apprentices of one ward and another. A shout would be
raised of 'Clubs!' and all the 'prentices would catch up their sticks
and pour out of the shops, and then there would be a fight till the
city guard turned out and separated them. Then there used to be the
shooting at the butts, and the shows, and the Mayday revels, and all
sorts of things. The people were more merry than you are here, and much
more free. You see, the barons, who are the same to us that your great
families are to you, had no influence in the city. You are a nation of
traders, and so are we; but in London the trade