arrest his footsteps, until they had led him through the door of a low
and dark dwelling that stood in a quarter of the place which was
inhabited by people of an inferior condition. Groping his way among
casks, cordage, and rubbish of all descriptions, the gondolier succeeded
in finding an inner and retired door that opened into a small room,
whose only light came from a species of well that descended between the
walls of the adjacent houses and that in which he was.

"Blessed St. Anne! Is it thou, Gino Monaldi!" exclaimed a smart Venetian
grisette, whose tone and manner betrayed as much of coquetry as of
surprise. "On foot, and by the secret door! Is this an hour to come on
any of thy errands?"

"Truly, Annina, it is not the season for affairs with thy father, and
it is something early for a visit to thee. But there is less time for
words than for action, just now. For the sake of San Teodoro, and that
of a constant and silly young man, who, if not thy slave, is at least
thy dog, bring forth the jacket I wore when we went together to see the
merry-making at Fusina."

"I know nothing of thy errand, Gino, nor of thy reason for wishing to
change thy master's livery for the dress of a common boatman. Thou art
far more comely with those silken flowers than in this faded velveteen;
and if I have ever said aught in commendation of its appearance, it was
because we were bent on merry-making, and being one of the party, it
would have been churlish to have withheld a word of praise to a
companion, who, as thou knowest, does not dislike a civil speech in his
own praise."

"Zitto, zitto! here is no merry-making and companions, but a matter of