scribed.

"Giustizia!" exclaimed fifty excited voices, as the grim visage of the
fisherman was held towards the light of the moon; "Giustizia in Palazzo
e paue in Piazza!"

"Ask it of the Senate!" returned Jacopo, not attempting to conceal the
derision of his tones.

"Thinkest thou our fellow has suffered for his boldness yesterday?"

"Stranger things have happened in Venice!"

"They forbid us to cast our nets in the Canale Orfano, lest the secrets
of justice should be known, and yet they have grown bold enough to drown
one of our own people in the midst of our gondolas!"

"Justice, justice!" shouted numberless hoarse throats.

"Away to St. Mark's! Lay the body at the feet of the Doge! Away,
brethren, Antonio's blood is on their souls!"

Bent on a wild and undigested scheme of asserting their wrongs, the
fishermen again plied their oars, and the whole fleet swept away, as if
it was composed of a single mass.

The meeting, though so short, was accompanied by cries, menaces, and all
those accustomed signs of rage which mark a popular tumult among those
excitable people, and it had produced a sensible effect on the nerves of
Annina. Don Camillo profited by her evident terror to press his
questions, for the hour no longer admitted of trifling.

The result was, that while the agitated mob swept into the mouth of the
Great Canal, raising hoarse shouts, the gondola of Don Camillo Monforte
glided away across the wide and tranquil surface of the Lagunes.

CHAPTER XXII.

"A Clifford, a Clifford! we'll follow the king and Clifford."
HENRY VI.

The tranquillity of the best ordered society may be disturbed, at any
time, by a sudden outbreaking of the malcontents. Against such a
disaster there is no more guarding than against the commission of more
vulgar crimes; but when a government trembles for its existence, before
the turbulence of popular commotion, it is reasonable to infer some
radical defect in its organization. Men will rally around their
institutions, as freely as they rally around any other cherished
interest, when they merit their care, and there can be no surer sign of
their hollowness than when the rulers seriously apprehend the breath of
the mob. No nation ever exhibited more of this symptomatic terror, on
all occasions of internal disturbance, than the pretending Republic of
Venice. There was a never-ceasing and a natural tendency to dissolution,
in he