"At last there came a day when, from a goatherd who brought us meat and wine from the next _paese_, we learned that a body of armed men, Corsicans, had pushed up to Olmeta, near by Nonza, to press the Genoese garrison there. Sir John, sick of waiting idle, proposed that we should travel back and help them, if only to fill up the time. It would be on our way, at any rate, to send word to the ketch, which was near-about due. So we travelled back to Olmeta; and behold, we tumbled upon the Princess and her men who had first taken us prisoners; and the Princess's brother with her--and be dashed if I like his looks! So Sir John told his tale, and the Princess sent me along with Master Prosper's letter of release. And here's a funny thing now!" wound up Billy, glancing at me. "The Prince was willing enough your release should be sent, and even chose out that fellow Stephanu to come along with me. But something in his eye--I can't azackly describe it--warned me he had a sort of reason for thinking that 'twouldn't do you much good. There was a priest, too: I took a notion that _he_ didn't much expect to see you again, sir. And this kept me in a sweat every mile of the journey, so that when you pointed your gun at me yesterday, as natural as life, you might have knocked me down with a feather." "Then it is settled," decided my uncle, as Billy came to a full stop. "Sir John has gone north again, you say, and will be expecting us off the island? There's naught to prevent our starting this evening?" "Nothing at all," agreed Captain Pomery, to whom by a glance he had appealed. "Leastways and supposing I can get my hawsers out of curl-papers." "That suits you, Prosper?" asked my uncle. I looked across the fire at Marc'antonio, who sat with his eyes lowered upon the gun across his knees. "Marc'antonio," said I, "my friends here are proposing to sail northward to Cape Corso to-night. They require me to sail with them. Am I free, think you?" "Beyond doubt you are free, cavalier," answered Marc'antonio, still without lifting his eyes. "Now, for my part," I said, "I am not so sure. Suppose--look at me please, my friend--suppose that you and I were to go first to the Princess together and ask her leave?" My uncle gazed up at Marc'antonio, who had sprung to his feet; and-- after a long look at his face--from Marc'antonio to me. "Prosper," he said quietly, "we shall sail to-night. If we sail without you, will your father forgive us? That is all I ask." "Dear uncle," said I, "for the life of me I cannot tell you; but that in my place he would do the like, I am sure." CHAPTER XXII. THE GREAT ADVENTURE.