If success gives force and increases the physical and moral energies,
there is a fearful and certain reaction in defeat. The follower of Don
Camillo was no exception to the general law, and when the masked
competitor passed him the boat of Antonio followed as if it were
impelled by the same strokes. The distance between the two leading
gondolas even now seemed to lessen, and there was a moment of breathless
interest when all there expected to see the fisherman, in despite of his
years and boat, shooting past his rival.
But expectation was deceived. He of the mask, notwithstanding his
previous efforts, seemed to sport with the toil, so ready was the sweep
of his oar, so sure its stroke, and so vigorous the arm by which it was
impelled. Nor was Antonio an antagonist to despise. If there was less of
the grace of a practised gondolier of the canals in his attitudes than
in those of his companion, there was no relaxation in the force of his
sinews. They sustained him to the last with that enduring power which
had been begotten by threescore years of unremitting labor, and while
his still athletic form was exerted to the utmost there appeared no
failing of its energies.
A few moments sent the leading gondolas several lengths ahead of their
nearest followers. The dark beak of the fisherman's boat hung upon the
quarter of the more showy bark of his antagonist, but it could do no
more. The port was open before them, and they glanced by church, palace,
barge, mystick, and felucca, without the slightest inequality in their
relative speed.
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