et invisible.
When a wide reach of water lay between him and the town, however, he
permitted his oar to rest, and he lent all his faculties to a keen and
anxious search.

A small dark spot was discovered on the water still nearer to the sea.
The oar of the gondolier dashed the element behind him, and his boat
again glided away, so far altering its course as to show that all
indecision was now ended. The darker spot was shortly beheld quivering
in the rays of the moon, and it soon assumed the form and dimensions of
a boat at anchor. Again the gondolier ceased his efforts, and he leaned
forward, gazing intently at this undefined object, as if he would aid
his powers of sight by the sympathy of his other faculties. Just then
the notes of music came softly across the Lagunes. The voice was feeble
even to trembling, but it had the sweetness of tone and the accuracy of
execution which belong so peculiarly to Venice. It was the solitary man,
in the distant boat, indulging in the song of a fisherman. The strains
were sweet, and the intonations plaintive to melancholy. The air was
common to all who plied the oar in the canals, and familiar to the ear
of the listener. He waited until the close of a verse had died away, and
then he answered with a strain of his own. The alternate parts were thus
maintained until the music ceased, by the two singing a final verse in
chorus.

When the song was ended, the oar of the gondolier stirred the water
again, and he was quickly by the other's side.

"Thou art busy with thy hook betimes, Antonio," said he who had just
arrived, as he stepped into the boat of the old fisherman already so
well known to the reader. "There are men, that an interview with the
Council of Three would have sent to their prayers and a sleepless bed."

"There is not a chapel in Venice, Jacopo, in which a sinner may so well
lay bare his soul as in this. I have been here on the empty Lagunes,
alone with God, having the gates of Paradise open before my eyes."

"One like thee hath no need of images to quicken his devotion."

"I see the image of my Saviour, Jacopo, in those bright stars, that
moon, the blue heavens, the misty bank of mountain, the waters on which
we float, aye, even in my own sinking form, as in all which has come
from his wisdom and power. I have prayed much since the moon has risen."

"And is habit so strong in thee that thou thinkest of God and thy sins
while thou anglest?"

"The poor must toil an