Chapter 29

"Art thou not guilty! No, indeed, I am not."
ROGERS.

The following morning brought the funeral of Antonio. The agents of the
police took the precaution to circulate in the city, that the Senate
permitted this honor to the memory of the old fisherman, on account of
his success in the regatta, and as some atonement for his unmerited and
mysterious death. All the men of the Lagunes were assembled in the
square at the appointed hour, in decent guise, flattered with the notice
that their craft received, and more than half disposed to forget their
former anger in the present favor. Thus easy is it for those who are
elevated above their fellow-creatures by the accident of birth, or by
the opinions of a factitious social organization, to repair the wrongs
they do in deeds, by small concessions of their conventional
superiority.

Masses were still chanted for the soul of old Antonio before the altar
of St. Mark. Foremost among the priests was the good Carmelite, who had
scarce known hunger or fatigue, in his pious desire to do the offices of
the church in behalf of one whose fate he might be said to have
witnessed. His zeal, however, in that moment of excitement passed
unnoticed by all, but those whose business it was to suffer no unusual
display of character, nor any unwonted circumstance to have place,
without attracting their suspicion. As the Carmelite finally withdrew
from the altar, previously to the removal of the body, he felt the
sleeve of his robe slightly drawn aside, and yielding to the impulse,
he quickly found himself among the columns of that gloomy church, alone
with a stranger.

"Father, thou hast shrived many a parting soul!" observed, rather than
asked, the other.

"It is the duty of my holy office, son."

"The state will note thy services; there will be need of thee when the
body of this fisherman is committed to the earth."

The monk shuddered, but making the sign of the cross, he bowed his pale
face, in signification of his readiness to discharge the duty. At that
moment the bearers lifted the body, and the procession issued upon the
great square. First marched the usual lay underlings of the cathedral,
who were followed by those who chanted the offices of the occasion.
Among the latter the Carmelite hastened to take his station. Next came
the corpse, without a coffin, for that is a luxury of the grave even now
unknown to the Italians of old Antonio's degree. The body was clad in
the holiday vestments of a fisherman, the hands and feet being naked. A
cross lay on the breast; the grey hairs were blowing about in the air,
and, in frightful adornment of the ghastliness of death, a bouquet of
flowers was placed upon the