eastern coast of the Adriatic."

"Blessed Maria! Signor Duca, and my honored master; they say that the
very images of stone in Venice have ears, and that the horses of bronze
will kick, if an evil word is spoken against those up above."

"Is it not enough, varlet, to draw curses from the meek Job, to rob him
of a wife? Hast thou no feeling for thy mistres?'

"I did not dream, eccellenza, that you were so happy as to have the one,
or that I was so honored as to have the other."

"Thou remindest me of my folly, good Gino. In aiding me on this
occasion, thou wilt have thy own fortune in view, as thy efforts, like
those of thy fellows, will be made in behalf of the lady to whom I have
just plighted a husband's vows."

"San Theodoro help us all, and hint what is to be done! The lady is most
happy, Signor Don Camillo, and if I only knew by what name to mention
her she should never be forgotten in any prayer that so humble a sinner
might dare to offer."

"Thou hast not forgotten the beautiful lady I drew from the Giudecca?"

"Corpo di Bacco! Your eceellenza floated like a swan, and swam faster
than a gull. Forgotten! Signore, no,--I think of it every time I hear a
plash in the canals, and every time I think of it I curse the Ancona-man
in my heart. St. Theodore forgive me if it be unlike a Christian to do
so. But, though we all tell marvels of what our Lord did in the
Giudecca, the dip of its waters is not the marriage ceremony, nor can we
speak with much certainty of beauty that was seen to so great
disadvantage."

"Thou art right, Gino. But that lady, the illustrious Donna Violetta
Tiepolo, the daughter and heiress of a famed senator, is now thy
mistress. It remains for us to establish her in the Castle of Sant'
Agata, where I shall defy Venice and its agents."

Gino bowed his head in submission, though he cast a look behind to make
sure that none of those agents, whom his master set so openly at
defiance, were within ear-shot.

In the meantime the gondola proceeded, for the dialogue in no manner
interrupted the exertions of Gino, still holding the direction of the
Lido. As the land-breeze freshened, the different vessels in sight
glided away, and by the time Don Camillo reached the barrier of sand
which separates the Lagunes from the Adriatic, most of them had glided
through the passages, and were now shaping their courses, according to
their different destinations, across the open gulf. The young noble had
perm