The Bella Sorrentina
still lay in the port, with a yard on deck, while the crew repaired its
sails in the lazy manner of mariners who work without excitement.
The Lagunes were dotted with the boats of fishermen, and travellers
arrived and departed from the city by the well known channels of Fusina
and Mestre. Here, some adventurer from the north quitted the canals on
his return towards the Alps, carrying with him a pleasing picture of the
ceremonies he had witnessed, mingled with some crude conjectures of that
power which predominated in the suspected state; and there, a countryman
of the Main sought his little farm, satisfied with the pageants and
regatta of the previous day. In short, all seemed as usual, and the
events we have related remained a secret with the actors, and that
mysterious council which had so large a share in their existence.
As the day advanced, many a sail was spread for the pillars of Hercules
or the genial Levant, and feluccas, mystics, and golettas, went and came
as the land or sea-breeze prevailed. Still the mariner of Calabria
lounged beneath the awning which sheltered his deck, or took his siesta
on a pile of old sails, which were ragged with the force of many a hot
sirocco. As the sun fell, the gondolas of the great and idle began to
glide over the water; and when the two squares were cooled by the air of
the Adriatic, the Broglio began to fill with those privileged to pace
its vaulted passage.
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