“Thou knowest that to be forgiven, thou must forgive.  Dost thou, at peace with all of earth, forget this wrong, and can’st thou, in charity with thy fellows, pray to Him who died for the race, in behalf of those who have injured thee?”

Antonio bowed his head on his naked breast, and he seemed to commune with his soul.

“Father,” he said, in a rebuked tone, “I hope I do.”

“Thou must not trifle with thyself to thine own perdition.  There is an eye in yon vault above us which pervades space, and which looks into the inmost secrets of the heart.  Can’st thou pardon the error of the patricians in a contrite spirit for thine own sins?”

“Holy Maria pray for them, as I now ask mercy in their behalf!  Father, they are forgiven.”

“Amen!”

The Carmelite arose and stood over the kneeling Antonio with the whole of his benevolent countenance illuminated by the moon.  Stretching his arms towards the stars, he pronounced the absolution in a voice that was touched with pious fervor.  The upward expectant eye, with the withered lineaments of the fisherman, and the holy calm of the monk, formed a picture of resignation and hope that angels would have loved to witness.

“Amen! amen!” exclaimed Antonio, as he arose crossing himself; “St. Anthony and the Virgin aid me to keep these resolutions!”

“I will not forget thee, my son, in the offices of holy church.  Receive my benediction, that I may depart.”

Antonio again bowed his knee while the Carmelite firmly pronounced the words of peace.  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!