Those who watched her, sailors such as ever linger about harbours seeking their bread from the waters, though among these were mingled people from the town who had come to this open place to escape the heat, began to talk together affrightedly, but always in the dread whisper that was the voice of this fearful knight.  Yes, even the hoarse-throated sailormen whispered like a dying woman.

“She’s no ship,” said one, “she’s the wraith of a ship.  When I was a lad I saw such a craft in the Indian seas, and afterward we foundered, and I and the cook’s mate alone were saved.”

“Pshaw!” answered another, “she’s a ship right enough.  Look at the weed and barnacles on her sides when she heaves.  Only where in Christ’s name are her crew?”

“Yes,” said a third, “and how could she win through all the secret channels without a pilot?”

“What use would be a pilot,” said a fourth, “if there are none to work the rudder and shift the sails?  Do I not know, who am of the trade?”

“At least she is coming straight to the quay,” exclaimed a fifth, “though what sends her Satan alone knows, for the tide is slack and this wind would scarce move a sponge boat.  Stand by with the hawser, or she’ll swing round and stave herself against the pier.”

So they talked, and all the while the great galley drifted onward with a slow, majestic motion, her decks hid in shadow, for a sail cut off the light of the low moon from them.  Presently, too, even this was gone, for the veil of cloud crept again over the moon’s face, obscuring everything.

Then of a sudden a meteor blazed out in the sky, such a meteor as no living man had ever seen in Venice, for the size of it was that of the sun.  It seemed to rise out of the ocean to the east and to travel very slowly across the whole arc of the firmament till at last it burst with a terrible noise over the city and vanished.  While it shone, the light it gave was that of mid-day, only pale blue in colour, turning all it touched to a livid and unnatural white.

It showed the placid sea and fish leaping on its silver face half-a-mile or more away.  It showed the distant land with every rock and house and bush.  It showed the wharf and the watchers on it; among them Hugh noted a man embracing his sweetheart, as he thought under cover of the cloud.  But most of all it showed that galley down to her last rope and even the lines of caulking on her deck.  Oh, and now they saw the rowers, for they lay in heaps about the oars.  Some of them even hung over these limply, moving to and fro as they swung, while others were stretched upon the benches as though they slept.  They were dead—­all dead; the wind following the meteor and blowing straight on shore told them that they were certainly all dead.  Three hundred men and more upon that great ship, and all dead!

Nay, not all, for now on the high poop stood a single figure who seemed to wear a strange red head-dress, and about his shoulders a black robe.  Straight and silent he stood, a very fearful figure, and in his hand a coil of rope.  The sight of him sent those watchers mad.  They ceased from their whisperings, they raved aloud.