announced its entrance into a narrower canal. With shortened oars the
men still urged the boat ahead, now turning short into some new channel,
now glancing beneath a low bridge, and now uttering, in the sweet shrill
tones of the country and their craft, the well known warning to those
who were darting in an opposite direction. A backstroke of Gino's oar,
however, soon brought the side of the arrested boat to a flight of
steps.

"Thou wilt follow me," said Don Camillo, as he placed his foot, with the
customary caution, on the moist stone, and laid a hand on the shoulder
of Gino; "I have need of thee."

Neither the vestibule, nor the entrance, nor the other visible
accessories of the dwelling were so indicative of luxury and wealth as
that of the palace on the great canal. Still they were all such as
denoted the residence of a noble of consideration.

"Thou wilt do wisely, Gino, to trust thy fortunes to the new gondola,"
said the master, as he mounted the heavy stone stairs to an upper floor,
pointing, as he spoke, to a new and beautiful boat, which lay in a
corner of the large vestibule, as carriages are seen standing in the
courts of houses built on more solid ground. "He who would find favor
with Jupiter must put his own shoulder to the wheel, thou knowest, my
friend."

The eye of Gino brightened, and he was voluble in his expression of
thanks. They had ascended to the first floor, and were already deep in a
suite of gloomy apartments, before the gratitude and professional pride
of the gondolier were exhausted.