some conqueror. All feeling of contempt was lost in the
influence of his triumph. The fishermen of the Lagunes, who so lately
had loaded their aged companion with contumely, shouted for his glory
with a zeal that manifested the violence of the transition from
mortification to pride; and, as has ever been and ever will be the meed
of success, he who was thought least likely to obtain it was most
greeted with praise and adulation when it was found that the end had
disappointed expectation. Ten thousand voices were lifted in proclaiming
his skill and victory, and young and old, the fair, the gay, the noble,
the winner of sequins and he who lost, struggled alike to catch a
glimpse of the humble old man, who had so unexpectedly wrought this
change of sentiment in the feelings of a multitude.

Antonio bore his triumph meekly. When his gondola had reached the goal
he checked its course, and, without discovering any of the usual signs
of exhaustion, he remained standing, though the deep heaving of his
broad and tawny chest proved that his powers had been taxed to their
utmost. He smiled as the shouts arose on his ear, for praise is grateful
even to the meek; still he seemed oppressed with an emotion of a
character deeper than pride. Age had somewhat dimmed his eye, but it was
now full of hope. His features worked, and a single burning drop fell
on each rugged cheek. The fisherman then breathed more freely.

Like his successful antagonist, the waterman of the mask betrayed none
of the debility which usually succeeds great bodily exertion. His knees
were motionless, his hands still grasped the oar firmly, and he too
kept his feet with a steadiness that showed the physical perfection of
his frame. On the other hand, both Gino and Bartolomeo sank in their
respective boats as they gained the goal in succession; and so exhausted
was each of these renowned gondoliers, that several moments elapsed
before either had breath for speech. It was during this momentary pause
that the multitude proclaimed its sympathy with the victor by their
longest and loudest shouts. The noise had scarcely died away, however,
before a herald summoned Antonio of the Lagunes, the masked waterman of
the Blessed St. John of the Wilderness, and Gino the Calabrian, to the
presence of the Doge, whose princely hand was to bestow the promised
prizes of the regatta.

CHAPTER X.

"We shall not spend a large expense of time,
Before we reckon with your sev