t which masses were still saying for the soul of
Antonio.

"This is one of thy fellows?" he asked of a fisherman, whose dark eye
glittered in that light, like the organ of a basilisk.

"Signore, he was--a more honest or a more just man did not cast his net
in the gulf."

"He has fallen a victim to his craft?"

"Cospetto di Bacco! none know in what manner he came by his end. Some
say St. Mark was impatient to see him in paradise, and some pretend he
has fallen by the hand of a common Bravo, named Jacopo Frontoni."

"Why should a Bravo take the life of one like this?"

"By having the goodness to answer your own question, Signore, you will
spare me some trouble. Why should he, sure enough? They say Jacopo is
revengeful, and that shame and anger at his defeat in the late regatta,
by one old as this, was the reason."

"Is he so jealous of his honor with the oar?"

"Diamine! I have seen the time when Jacopo would sooner die than lose a
race; but that was before he carried a stiletto. Had he kept to his oar
the thing might have happened, but once known for the hired blow, it
seems unreasonable he should set his heart so strongly on the prizes of
the canals."

"May not the man have fallen into the Lagunes by accident?"

"No doubt, Signore. This happens to some of us daily; but then we think
it wiser to swim to the boat than to sink. Old Antonio had an arm in
youth to carry him from the quay to the Lido."

"But he may have been struck in falling, and rendered unable to do
himself this good office."

"There would be marks to show this, were it true, Signore!"

"Would not Jacopo have used the stiletto?"

"Perhaps not on one like Antonio. The gondola of the old man was found
in the mouth of the Grand Canal, half a league from the body and against
the wind! We note these things, Signore, for they are within our
knowledge."

"A happy night to thee, fisherman."

"A most happy night, eccellenza," said the laborer of the Lagunes,
gratified with having so long occupied the attention of one he rightly
believed so much his superior. The disguised senator passed on. He had
no difficulty in quitting the cathedral unobserved, and he had his
private means of entering the palace, without attracting any impertinent
eye to his movements. Here he quickly joined his colleagues of the
fearful tribunal.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

"_There_ the prisoners rest together;
they hear not the voice of the oppressor."