When this last office was performed, and a decent
interval of mutual but silent prayer had passed, a signal was given to
summon the gondola of the state. It came rowing down with great force,
and was instantly at their side. Two men passed into the boat of
Antonio, and with officious zeal assisted the monk to resume his place
in that of the Republic.
"Is the penitent shrived?" half whispered one, seemingly the superior of
the two.
"Here is an error. He thou seek'st has escaped. This aged man is a
fisherman named Antonio, and one who cannot have gravely offended St.
Mark. The Bravo hath passed towards the island of San Giorgio, and must
be sought elsewhere."
The officer released the person of the monk, who passed quickly beneath
the canopy, and he turned to cast a hasty glance at the features of the
fisherman. The rubbing of a rope was audible, and the anchor of Antonio
was lifted by a sudden jerk. A heavy plashing of the water followed, and
the two boats shot away together, obedient to a violent effort of the
crew. The gondola of the state exhibited its usual number of gondoliers,
bending to their toil, with its dark and hearse-like canopy, but that of
the fisherman was empty!
The sweep of the oars and the plunge of the body of Antonio had been
blended in a common wash of the surge. When the fisherman came to the
surface after his fall, he was alone in the centre of the vast but
tranquil sheet of water.
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