“Yes, I will be like a brother to you,” cried Giovanni.
“All right,” said Rob unpoetically; and then the skipper turned to Shadrach, and grumbled out something in Italian.
“Toe be sure,” growled the man in English. “’Course I will. You know me, cap’en.”
“Si!” replied the skipper laconically; and then, asking Rob to accompany him, the Italian lad made for his little cabin to begin the few preparations he had to make.
The result was that a canvas bag like a short bolster was handed down into the boat, and then the boy followed with a light, useful-looking rifle, belt and long keen sheath-knife, which he hung up under the canvas to be clear of the night dew or rain.
It was still grey the next morning when the boatmen sat ready with their oars, and Captain Ossolo stood in the dinghy beside Brazier’s boat, which swung astern of the Tessa, down into whose hold scores of light-footed women were passing basketfuls of oranges.
They paused in their work for a few minutes as the captain shook hands with all in turn.
“A revederla!” he cried, taking off his Panama hat. “I see you when you come back, ole boy; goo’-bye; take yourself care of you.”
The next minute he was waving his soft hat from the dinghy, while Brazier’s boat was gliding up stream, and the two boys stood up and gave him a hearty cheer.
“Now, youngsters,” said Shaddy, as he cleared the little mast lying under the thwarts, “we shall catch the wind as soon as we’re round the next bend; so we may as well let Natur’ do the work when she will.”