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Authors: John Bellairs
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grinning, bare-chested sailor who was just in the act of raising his sword again to split Johnny in two. But at that second an arrow from a crossbow struck the man's neck, and he crumpled to the deck, dead.
The professor was struggling to load a flare into the flare gun. At last he was ready. He raised the gun and fired, and with a skyrockety whoosh the flare rose. It burst over the ship with a blinding white glare, and the soldiers on both sides threw themselves down on the deck and covered their eyes with their hands. With a triumphant yell the professor leaped onto the mast's stump and shouted, "Surrender in the name of Venice!" He didn't really know that the other ship was Venetian. He was just guessing. But sure enough, when the smoke from the flare's explosion had cleared, Johnny saw a soldier standing on the deck with a torch in one hand and a flag in the other. The flag was purple, and on it was embroidered the picture of a golden lion with wings, who was holding in his upraised front paw the tablets on which the Ten Commandments were written. The lion was the symbol of Saint Mark, the saint who watched over Venice. The Venetians had arrived, and the three travelers were saved... at least they hoped that they were.
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CHAPTER EIGHT
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Pale and shaken, Johnny clutched his injured arm. Near him Fergie and the professor stood dead still and waited to see what would happen. The Venetian galley's ram had smashed into the Turkish ship at an angle, and the two ships drifted on the water, locked together, while the acrid smoke of the flare still hung over them like a mantle of fog. The soldier with the purple banner hopped nimbly onto the deck of the Turkish ship and strode forward purposefully. He wore a shiny metal helmet that looked like an upside-down salad bowl, and his breastplate had an odd sort of metal skirt on the bottom. Behind him walked a short man with a well-trimmed beard. His face was sunburned and leathery, and his eyes were set in deep dark hollows. He wore a long red cape and a puffy velvet hat that looked like an oversized beret, and his battle armor was gilded and covered with fancy engraved decorations. In his hand he carried a glittering sword. The bearded man looked grim, and he stopped in front of the professor, looking him over from head to toe. For a long time he stared at the flare gun the professor held in his right hand. Thenâto everyone's surpriseâhe smiled slyly, as if he had a secret.
The professor was very relieved. He bowed and began to speak, while Brewster hovered overhead and translated.
"Greetings, my lord!" the professor said. "I am a monk of the Franciscan order, and these are my companions. This weapon that I hold was invented by clever men in a far-off land. It frightens, but it's harmless."
The bearded man looked around at the Turkish soldiers and sailors who were still cowering on the deck with their hands over their eyes. "I see," he said. With a grand flourish he sheathed his sword and folded his arms. "You are under the protection of the Republic of Venice," he went on. "We have come to help the people of Constantinople, who are besieged, as you probably know. I am Admiral Piero Mocenigo, and I will aid you if I can."
"It seems like everybody's an admiral around this place," Fergie muttered to Johnny.
In a flash the man turned to stare at him. Again he smiled as if he knew a joke that he wouldn't tell to anyone. "I beg your pardon," he said, "but I don't think I heard what you said."
Fergie's face turned red. "It wasn't important," he mumbled.
The Admiral laughed and turned quickly to the soldier who held the flag. He gave a quick series of orders: The Turkish prisoners were to be bound and the galley slaves were to be set free. A surgeon would be brought to bind up Johnny's wound, and after that was done, the old man and the two boys were to be treated with every courtesy. Soon they would have dinner with the Admiral in his
The professor was struggling to load a flare into the flare gun. At last he was ready. He raised the gun and fired, and with a skyrockety whoosh the flare rose. It burst over the ship with a blinding white glare, and the soldiers on both sides threw themselves down on the deck and covered their eyes with their hands. With a triumphant yell the professor leaped onto the mast's stump and shouted, "Surrender in the name of Venice!" He didn't really know that the other ship was Venetian. He was just guessing. But sure enough, when the smoke from the flare's explosion had cleared, Johnny saw a soldier standing on the deck with a torch in one hand and a flag in the other. The flag was purple, and on it was embroidered the picture of a golden lion with wings, who was holding in his upraised front paw the tablets on which the Ten Commandments were written. The lion was the symbol of Saint Mark, the saint who watched over Venice. The Venetians had arrived, and the three travelers were saved... at least they hoped that they were.
Â
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CHAPTER EIGHT
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Pale and shaken, Johnny clutched his injured arm. Near him Fergie and the professor stood dead still and waited to see what would happen. The Venetian galley's ram had smashed into the Turkish ship at an angle, and the two ships drifted on the water, locked together, while the acrid smoke of the flare still hung over them like a mantle of fog. The soldier with the purple banner hopped nimbly onto the deck of the Turkish ship and strode forward purposefully. He wore a shiny metal helmet that looked like an upside-down salad bowl, and his breastplate had an odd sort of metal skirt on the bottom. Behind him walked a short man with a well-trimmed beard. His face was sunburned and leathery, and his eyes were set in deep dark hollows. He wore a long red cape and a puffy velvet hat that looked like an oversized beret, and his battle armor was gilded and covered with fancy engraved decorations. In his hand he carried a glittering sword. The bearded man looked grim, and he stopped in front of the professor, looking him over from head to toe. For a long time he stared at the flare gun the professor held in his right hand. Thenâto everyone's surpriseâhe smiled slyly, as if he had a secret.
The professor was very relieved. He bowed and began to speak, while Brewster hovered overhead and translated.
"Greetings, my lord!" the professor said. "I am a monk of the Franciscan order, and these are my companions. This weapon that I hold was invented by clever men in a far-off land. It frightens, but it's harmless."
The bearded man looked around at the Turkish soldiers and sailors who were still cowering on the deck with their hands over their eyes. "I see," he said. With a grand flourish he sheathed his sword and folded his arms. "You are under the protection of the Republic of Venice," he went on. "We have come to help the people of Constantinople, who are besieged, as you probably know. I am Admiral Piero Mocenigo, and I will aid you if I can."
"It seems like everybody's an admiral around this place," Fergie muttered to Johnny.
In a flash the man turned to stare at him. Again he smiled as if he knew a joke that he wouldn't tell to anyone. "I beg your pardon," he said, "but I don't think I heard what you said."
Fergie's face turned red. "It wasn't important," he mumbled.
The Admiral laughed and turned quickly to the soldier who held the flag. He gave a quick series of orders: The Turkish prisoners were to be bound and the galley slaves were to be set free. A surgeon would be brought to bind up Johnny's wound, and after that was done, the old man and the two boys were to be treated with every courtesy. Soon they would have dinner with the Admiral in his
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