Chapter 26

"My limbs are bowed, though not with toil,
But rusted with a vile repose,
For they have been a dungeon's spoil,
And mine hath been the fate of those
To whom the goodly earth and air
Are banned, and barred--forbidden fare."
PRISONER OF CHILLON.

When the day dawned on the following morning the square of St. Mark was
empty. The priests still chanted their prayers for the dead near the
body of old Antonio, and a few fishermen still lingered in and near the
cathedral, but half persuaded of the manner in which their companion had
come to his end. But as was usual at that hour of the day the city
appeared tranquil, for though a slight alarm had passed through the
canals at the movement of the rioters, it had subsided in that specious
and distrustful quiet, which is more or less the unavoidable consequence
of a system that is not substantially based on the willing support of
the mass.

Jacopo was again in the attic of the Doge's palace, accompanied by the
gentle Gelsomina. As they threaded the windings of the building, he
recounted to the eager ear of his companion all the details connected
with the escape of the lovers; omitting, as a matter of prudence, the
attempt of Giacomo Gradenigo on the life of Don Camillo. The unpractised
and single-hearted girl heard him in breathless attention, the color of
her cheek and the changeful eye betraying the force of her sympathies at
each turn in their hazardous adventure.

"And dost thou think they can yet escape from those up above?" murmured
Gelsomina, for few in Venice would trust their voices, by putting such a
question aloud. "Thou knowest the Republic hath at all times its galleys
in the Adriatic!"

"We have had thought of that, and the Calabrian is advised to steer for
the mole of Ancona. Once within the States of the Church the influence
of Don Camillo and the rights of his noble wife will protect them. Is
there a place here whence we can look out upon the sea?"

Gelsomina led the Bravo into an empty room of the attic which commanded
a view of the port, the Lido, and the waste of water beyond. The breeze
came in strong currents over the roofs of the town, and causing the
masts of the port to rock, it lighted on the Lagunes, without the tiers
of the shipping. From this point to the barrier of sand, it was apparent
by the stooping sails and the struggles of the gondoliers who pulled
towards the quay, that the air was swift. Without the Lido itself, the
element was shadowed and fitful, while further in the distance the
troubled waters, with their crests of foam, sufficiently proved its
power.

"Santa Maria be praised!" exclaimed Jacopo, when his understanding eye
had run over