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to Catania before. It seemed, at least from the sea, to be a huge bustling place, its waterfront crammed with elegant buildings and the harbour filled with ships, their masts forming a maze of towering timber and ropes. Behind the town, the great volcano Etna simmered and steamed.
    Around us, dozens of slender boats scudded from shore to ship, piled to overflowing with baskets of fruit and wine-casks. A launch crowded with rowdy women drew up alongside a frigate, and the women shouted up at the bosun, pleading to be let on board.
    â€˜Let me see my husband!’ one cried.
    â€˜If you won’t allow my son ashore, at least let me kiss him farewell,’ said another.
    The bosun shook his massive head.
    â€˜Get away with you, hags,’ he snarled. ‘I won’t have a woman on board my ship.’
    â€˜He is afraid of them,’ said Carlo. ‘Imagine if he knew that over here, on this ship, a girl is part of the crew!’
    â€˜They can’t do him any harm, surely,’ I said.
    â€˜If he lets his crew see their womenfolk, not one ofthem will want to sail away from home tomorrow.’
    â€˜Can’t say I blame them,’ I admitted. ‘Why would anyone exchange a Sicilian mother’s home cooking for months of salt pork, hard biscuit, and stale beer?’
    â€˜But think of the adventures they would miss if they stayed home,’ said Carlo.
    â€˜Is that why you’re here?’
    â€˜I am escaping,’ Carlo said.
    â€˜You fought against the French?’ I asked.
    â€˜No,’ he said, his face troubled. ‘I am escaping my tutor.’
    I tried really hard not to smile. ‘But …?’
    â€˜It’s not funny, Cygno.’
    â€˜I’m sorry,’ I began.
    â€˜General Bonaparte declared that boys of noble Maltese families must go to France to school.’
    â€˜You mean you would have had to leave your family?’
    â€˜Yes,’ he said. ‘My mother wept for two days.’
    â€˜And your father?’
    â€˜My father wanted to send me away out of danger, anywhere but France. So here I am. They put me on a packet to Sicily with my tutor, but he is so stupid I ran away from him on the first day. I have been hiding aboard Corfu waiting to be smuggled back into Malta.’
    He grinned. ‘Now I find that my old friends are here too.’
    Jem passed by on his way to the boats.
    â€˜Hey,’ I called to him. ‘We have to smuggle Carlo back home again.’
    â€˜Not bloomin’ likely,’ Jem growled. ‘It nearly killed me last time.’
    â€˜Perhaps it is fate that we were brought back together,’ Carlo announced. ‘Perhaps I am not destined to return to Malta. I shall stay aboard the Mermaid for good.’
    Jem simply snorted and kept walking.
    â€˜I will be your captain,’ Carlo shouted after him.
    â€˜I’m not sure that’s the right thing to say,’ I whispered. ‘Jem is our captain.’
    â€˜Don’t be silly, Cygno,’ said Carlo. ‘I am a natural leader of men.’
    â€˜But you don’t know anything about sailing.’
    â€˜I will learn as I go.’
    â€˜Caruana!’ Jem hollered over to the Corfu . ‘Get this dolt off my ship.’
    Carlo looked around to see who Jem meant.
    I stood up. ‘I’d better help with the loading. You get back aboard Corfu . We’ll rendezvous tomorrow.’
    We shook hands, and I grinned to myself as he leaped over the rails and onto the scow.
    But the next morning, just after dawn, the peace of the harbour was broken by shots from the cannon on the headland.
    I scrambled on deck as fast as I could. There seemed to be no sign of danger, yet the harbour was alive with boats weaving between the moored ships, and the sounds of excited shouts echoed across the water.
    â€˜What is it?’ Jem shouted to Caruana, who stood on his foredeck in shirt and breeches.
    â€˜I cannot tell. I’ll send a