terrible time. Turning their sight from earth, they
raised their eyes and looked into the heaven of love which had opened
to them. The old woman advised flight to Chiozza. Antonio wished to
gain the mainland, and thence reach his own country. Friend Pietro
found him a boat, and it was waiting for them at the bridge behind the
Palace. When it was night, Annunziata, deeply cloaked, crept down the
steps with her lover and old Margareta, whose cloak was filled with
jewel cases. They got on board; Antonio took the oars and away they
fled, at a rapid, vigorous rate. Before them upon the waters the bright
moonlight danced, like a gladsome herald of Love.

"'When they reached the open sea a strange hissing and whistling began
to make itself heard in the air overhead; dark shadows gathered and
came over the bright face of the moon, hanging like gloomy shrouds. The
dancing shimmer the gleaming herald of Love--sank down into the dark
depths, pregnant with hollow thunders. A storm arose, and, in angry
rage, drove dark clouds before it. The boat laboured violently, and
plunged up and down.

"'"Help! Oh Lord of Heaven!" the old woman screamed. Antonio, unable to
work the oars, clasped Annunziata to his heart. Animated by his burning
kisses, she pressed him to her heart in the most blissful rapture. "Oh,
my Antonio!" "Oh, my Annunziata!" they cried, heedless of the raging
tempest. Then the sea the jealous widow of beheaded Falieri--lifted up
her foaming billows, like great, gigantic arms, grasped the lovers, and
dragged them, with the old woman, down, down, to the fathomless abyss.'

"When the man in the cloak had thus ended his tale, he rose quickly,
and left the room with strong, rapid steps. The friends looked after
him in speechless amazement, and then went back again to examine the
picture. The Doge still chuckled at them, in silly ostentation, and
senile vanity. But when they looked closely into the face of the
beautiful Annunziata, they saw that the shadow of a sorrow--unknown as
yet, merely in the form of a presentiment--was upon her lily brow; that
longing love-dreams shone under her dark eyelashes, and hovered about
her beautiful lips. From the distant sea a hostile power seemed to
threaten destruction and death; and from the misty clouds which lay
over San Marco, and partly concealed it, the deeper meaning of the
picture slowly dawned upon them, whilst all the sorrow of the love-tale
of Antonio and Annunziata filled thei