Two more hours passed, and then there was a startling transformation.  The clouds broke suddenly and cleared off, as if by magic, and the sun streamed brightly out.  The wind was blowing as strong as ever, but the change in the hue of sky and sea would at once have raised the spirits of the tired crew, had not a long line of land been seen stretching ahead of them at a distance of four or five miles.

“Just as I thought,” the captain exclaimed as he saw it.  “That is Mitylene, sure enough, and the entrance to the harbour I spoke of lies away there on that beam.”

The oars were at once got out, the sail braced up a little, and the Bonito made for the point indicated by the captain, who himself took the helm.

Another half hour and they were close to land.  Francis could see no sign of a port, but in a few minutes the Bonito rounded the end of a low island, and a passage opened before her.  She passed through this and found herself in still water, in a harbour large enough to hold the fleet of Venice.  The anchor was speedily let drop.

“It seems almost bewildering,” Francis said, “the hush and quiet here after the turmoil of the storm outside.  To whom does Mitylene belong?”

“The Genoese have a trading station and a castle at the other side of the island, but it belongs to Constantinople.  The other side of the island is rich and fertile, but this, as you see, is mountainous and barren.  The people have not a very good reputation, and if we had been wrecked we should have been plundered, if not murdered.

“You see those two vessels lying close to the shore, near the village?  They are pirates when they get a chance, you may be quite sure.  In fact, these islands swarm with them.  Venice does all she can to keep them down, but the Genoese, and the Hungarians, and the rest of them, keep her so busy that she has no time to take the matter properly in hand, and make a clean sweep of them.”

Chapter 8:  An Attack By Pirates.

A boat was lowered, and the captain went ashore with a strong crew, all armed to the teeth.  Francis accompanied him.  The natives were sullen in their manner, but expressed a willingness to trade, and to exchange hides and wine for cloth.

“We may as well do a little barter,” the captain said, as they rowed back towards the ship.  “The port is not often visited, and the road across the island is hilly and rough, so they ought to be willing to sell their goods cheaply.”

“They did not seem pleased to see us, nevertheless,” Francis said.