d seen them at that moment could not well have said which of the
two was dead and which was living--Elena or her husband. Meantime the
captain of the oarsmen, fearing lest the watch (set by the Masters of
the Night to keep the peace of Venice) might arrive, was calling on
Gerardo to come back. Gerardo heeded him no whit. But at the last,
compelled by his entreaties, and as it were astonied, he arose,
bearing his wife's corpse in his arms, and carried her clasped against
his bosom to the boat, and laid her therein, and sat down by her
side and kissed her frequently, and suffered not his friend's
remonstrances. Force was for the captain, having brought himself into
this scrape, that he should now seek refuge by the nearest way from
justice. Therefore he hoved gently from the bank, and plied his oar,
and brought the gondola apace into the open waters. Gerardo still
clasped Elena, dying husband by dead wife. But the sea-breeze
freshened towards daybreak; and the captain, looking down upon that
pair, and bringing to their faces the light of his boat's lantern,
judged their case not desperate at all. On Elena's cheek there was a
flush of life less deadly even than the pallor of Gerardo's forehead.
Thereupon the good man called aloud, and Gerardo started from his
grief; and both together they chafed the hands and feet of Elena; and,
the sea-breeze aiding with its saltness, they awoke in her the spark
of life.

Dimly burned the spark. But Gerardo, being aware of it, became a man
again. Then, having taken counsel with the captain, both resolved
to bear her to that brave man's mother's house. A bed was soon made
ready, and food was brought; and after due time, she lifted up her
face and knew Gerardo. The peril of the grave was past, but thought
had now to be taken for the future. Therefore Gerardo, leaving his
wife to the captain's mother, rowed back to the galley and prepared to
meet his father. With good store of merchandise and with great gains
from his traffic, he arrived in that old palace on the Grand Canal.
Then having opened to Messer Paolo the matters of his journey, and
shown him how he had fared, and set before him tables of disbursements
and receipts, he seized the moment of his father's gladness. 'Father,'
he said, and as he spoke he knelt upon his knees, 'Father, I bring you
not good store of merchandise and bags of gold alone; I bring you also
a wedded wife, whom I have saved this night from death.' And when
the o