Well did the sturdy gondolier answer to their
wishes, for palace after palace was left behind, and no further change
was made in the relative positions of the boats. But, like his
predecessor, the leader redoubled his efforts with a diminished effect,
and Venice had the mortification of seeing a stranger leading one of the
most brilliant of her regattas. Bartolomeo no sooner lost place, than
Gino, the masker, and the despised Antonio, in turn, shot by, leaving
him who had so lately been first in the race, the last. He did not,
however, relinquish the strife, but continued to struggle with the
energy of one who merited a better fortune.
When this unexpected and entirely new character was given to the
contest, there still remained a broad sheet of water between the
advancing gondolas and the goal. Gino led, and with many favorable
symptoms of his being able to maintain his advantage. He was encouraged
by the shouts of the multitude, who now forgot his Calabrian origin in
his success, while many of the serving-men of his master cheered him on
by name. All would not do. The masked waterman, for the first time,
threw the grandeur of his skill and force into the oar. The ashen
instrument bent to the power of an arm whose strength appeared to
increase at will, and the movements of his body became rapid as the
leaps of the greyhound. The pliant gondola obeyed, and amid a shout
which passed from the Piazzetta to the Rialto, it glided ahead.
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