when it comes to knowing men and thingspoor Gino is but a gondolier! The lad hath a most excellent heart, and is never backward to serve a friend. I love him, but thou wouldst not have me say more than the truth will warrant."

"Well, keep thy feluca in readiness, for we know not the moment it may be needed."

"Thou hast only to bring thy freight, Signore, to have the bargain fulfilled."

"Adieu.-I would recommend to thee, to keep apart from all other trades, and to see that the revelries of to-morrow do not debauch thy people."

"God speed thee, Signor Roderigo.-Nought shall be wanting."

The Bravo stepped into his gondolier, which glided from the feluca's side with a facility which shewed, that an arm, skilled in its use, held the oar. He waved his hand, in adieu to Stefano, and then the boat disappeared among the hulls that crowded the port.

For a few minutes the padrone of the Bella Sorrentina continued to pace her decks, snuffing the fresh breeze that came in over the Lido, and then he sought his rest. By this time, the dark, silent gondolas, which had been floating by hundreds, through the basin, were all gone. The sound of music was heard no longer on the canals, and Venice, at all times noiseless and peculiar, seemed to sleep the sleep of the dead.

CHAPTER VIII.

The fisher came

From his green islet, bringing o'er the waves
His wife and little one; the husbandman
From the firm land, with many a friar and nun,
And village maiden, her first flight from home,
Crowding the common ferry.

ROGERS.

A BRIGHTER day than that which succeeded the night last mentioned, never dawned upon the massive domes, the gorgeous palaces, and the glittering canals of Venice. The sun had not been long above the level of the Lido, before

A

the strains of horns and trumpets arose from the square of St. Mark. They were answered, in full echoes, from the distant arsenal. thousand gondolas glided from the canals, stealing in every direction across the port, the Guidecca, and the various outer channels of the place, while the well-known routes, from Fusina and the neighbouring isles, were dotted with endless lines of boats, urging their way towards the capital.

The citizens began to assemble early, in their holiday attire, while thousands of contadini landed at the different bridges, clad in the gay costumes of the main. Before the day had far advanced, all the avenues of the great square were again thronged, and by the time the bells of the venerable cathedral had finished a peal of high rejoicing, St. Mark's again teemed with its gay multitude. Few appeared in masks, but pleasure seemed to lighten every eye, while the frank and unconcealed countenance willingly courted the observation and sympathy of its

neighbours. In short, Venice and her people were seen, in all the gaiety and carelessness of a favourite Italian festa. The banners of the conquered nations flapped heavily on the triumphal masts, each church-tower hung out its image of the winged lion, and every palace was rich in its hangings of tapestry and silk, floating from balcony and window.

In the midst of this exhilarating and bright spectacle was heard the din of a hundred thousand voices. Above the constant hum, there arose, from time to time, the blasts of trumpets and the symphonies of rich music. Here the improvisatore, secretly employed by a politic and mysterious government, recounted, with a rapid utterance, and in language suited to the popular ear, at the foot of the spars which upheld the conquered banners of Candia, Crete, and the Morea, the ancient triumphs of the republic; while, there, a ballad-singer chaunted, to the greedy crowd, the glory and justice of San Marco. Shouts of approbation succeeded