“Eccellenza, I am old, and though unused to be thus questioned by illustrious senators, I had seen enough of the manner in which St. Mark governs, to believe a few unarmed fishermen and gondoliers would not be listened to with—­”

“Ha!  Did the gondoliers become of thy party?  I should have believed them jealous, and displeased with the triumph of one who was not of their body.”

“A gondolier is a man, and though they had the feelings of human nature on being beaten, they had also the feelings of human nature when they heard that a father was robbed of his son—­Signore,” continued Antonio, with great earnestness and a singular simplicity, “there will be great discontent on the canals, if the galleys sail with the boy aboard them!”

“Such is thy opinion; were the gondoliers on the Lido numerous?”

“When the sports ended, eccellenza, they came over by hundreds, and I will do the generous fellows the justice to say, that they had forgotten their want of luck in the love of justice.  Diamine! these gondoliers are not so bad a class as some pretend, but they are men like ourselves, and can feel for a Christian as well as another.”

The secretary paused, for his task was done; and a deep silence pervaded the gloomy apartment.  After a short pause one of the three resumed—­

“Antonio Vecchio,” he said, “thou hast served thyself in these said galleys, to which thou now seemest so averse—­and served bravely, as I learn?”

“Signore, I have done my duty by St. Mark.  I played my part against the infidel, but it was after my beard was grown, and at an age when I had learnt to know good from evil.  There is no duty more cheerfully performed by us all, than to defend the islands and the Lagunes against the enemy.”

“And all the Republic’s dominions.—­Thou canst make no distinctions between any of the rights of the state.”

“There is wisdom granted to the great, which God has denied the poor and the weak, Signore.  To me it does not seem clear that Venice, a city built on a few islands, hath any more right to carry her rule into Crete or Candia, than the Turk hath to come here.”

“How!  Dost thou dare on the Lido to question the claim of the Republic to her conquests? or do the irreverent fishermen dare thus to speak lightly of her glory?”

“Eccellenza, I know little of rights that come by violence.  God hath given us the Lagunes, but I know not that he has given us more.  This glory of which you speak may sit lightly on the shoulder of a senator, but it weighs heavily on a fisherman’s heart.”

“Thou speakest, bold man, of that which thou dost not comprehend.”

“It is unfortunate, Signore, that the power to understand hath not been given to those who have so much power to suffer.”

An anxious pause succeeded this reply.

“Thou mayest withdraw, Antonio,” said he, who apparently presided in the dread councils of the Three.  “Thou wilt not speak of what has happened, and thou wilt await the inevitable justice of St. Mark in full confidence of its execution.”