s
zest. I'll tell you what, my friend, he is but a base-born slave who
knows not how to live, and fears to die. Give me a life of activity and
excitement, and when that ceases death will be welcome."

"You, signore, are the best judge of your own taste," answered the
Sicilian; "for my part, I am content to make an honest livelihood by
trading between my native city of Syracuse and yonder good port of
Valetta, where, please the holy saints, we shall drop our anchor in the
course of ten minutes."

"And anything else by which you may turn a colonna," muttered the Greek.

The speronara continued in her course, and as she came off Fort
Ricasoli, the other person habited as a Greek, who had not hitherto
spoken, observed the four figures suspended on the southern bastion.

"Holy Virgin, what are those?" he exclaimed in Italian.

"Those, signore," answered the padrone, as the master of the speronara
was called, with particular emphasis, "are pirates."

"Pirates!" ejaculated the young man, while a shudder ran through his
frame.

"_Si, signore, pirates_," answered the padrone, with a significant look.
"They had a short life of it after they had committed the acts for
which they were condemned. They had reached Smyrna with their booty,
when they were captured by the British and brought back here."

"An awful lesson to others to be more careful how they manage affairs,"
observed the principal Greek, laughing. "Now, I dare say, if the truth
was known, those fellows blundered terribly. It's always the case when
people get into the clutches of the law."

The other Greek shuddered and turned his head aside. "It is not a
pleasant sight," he observed.

"Oh! those English are terrible fellows for punishing those engaged in
any little transaction of that sort," said the padrone. "They are good
people, though."

"They are remarkably conceited," said the Greek, twirling his
moustache--"they believe that they can make the whole world obey them;
but it is time that we should look about us. Ah! steer near that
merchant-brig there, in the mouth of the harbour, I should like to have
a look at her that I might know her again."

The man at the helm put it so much to port, that the end of one of the
long tapering yards of the speronara nearly got foul of the _Zodiac's_
fore-yard.

"What the deuce are you lubbers about, that you cannot keep yourself
clear of your neighbours?" sung out Bowse's mate, from the main rigging.
"I'l