From every house hung flags and banners, every balcony was hung with tapestry and drapery.  The Grand Canal was closely packed with gondolas, which, for once, disregarded the sumptuary law that enforced black as their only hue, and shone in a mass of colour.  Gaily dressed ladies sat beneath canopies of silk and velvet; flags floated from every boat, and the rowers were dressed in the bright liveries of their employers.  The church bells rang out with a deafening clang, and from roof and balcony, from wharf and river, rang out a mighty shout of welcome and triumph from the crowded mass, as the great state gondola, bearing the doge and the two commanders, made its way, slowly and with difficulty, along the centre of the canal.

Francis was on board one of the gondolas that followed in the wake of that of the doge, and as soon as the grand service in Saint Mark’s was over, he slipped off and made his way back to the Palazzo Polani.  The merchant and Giulia had both been present at the ceremony, and had just returned when he arrived.

“I guessed you would be off at once, Francisco, directly the ceremony was over.  I own that I, myself, would have stayed for a time to see the grand doings in the Piazza, but this child would not hear of our doing so.  She said it would be a shame, indeed, if you should arrive home and find no one to greet you.”

“So it would have been,” Giulia said.  “I am sure I should not have liked, when I have been away, even on a visit of pleasure to Corfu, to return and find the house empty; and after the terrible dangers and hardships you have gone through, Francisco, it would have been unkind, indeed, had we not been here.  You still look thin and worn.”

“I think that is fancy on your part, Giulia.  To my eyes he looks as stout as ever I saw him.  But certainly he looked as lean and famished as a wolf, when I paid that visit to the camp the day before Zeno’s arrival.  His clothes hung loose about him, his cheeks were hollow, and his eyes sunken.  He would have been a sight for men to stare at, had not every one else been in an equally bad case.

“Well, I thank God there is an end of it, now!  Genoa will be glad to make peace on any terms, and the sea will once more be open to our ships.  So now, Francisco, you have done with fighting, and will be able to turn your attention to the humbler occupation of a merchant.”

“That will I right gladly,” Francis said.  “I used to think, once, I should like to be a man-at-arms; but I have seen enough of it, and hope I never will draw my sword again, unless it be in conflict with some Moorish rover.  I have had many letters from my father, chiding me for mingling in frays in which I have no concern, and shall be able to gladden his heart, by writing to assure him that I have done with fighting.”