where he had risen to be one of the _bancali_ or governors, his
qualities of force and daring making him useful in this age when
lawlessness was on the increase. He was beginning to feel a sense of
satisfaction, not all barbaric, in the position he had won among men who
had some views of order, and to perceive that there might be a lawful
use, almost as pleasant, for those very attributes which had rendered
him so formidable a foe outside the pale of traghetto civilization.

"_Ecco_!" he announced, with a slow, sullen emphasis which declared his
unwilling surrender, while he plied his oar with quick, wrathful
strokes. "It will take more than aves to make a saint of thee! And thou
mayst hold thy head too high, looking for better than wheaten bread! But
I'm not the man to wear a curb, nor to put up with thorns where I looked
for roses! Thou hast no right to mind what chances to me--yet thou hast
made me give up the old life."

"Because I knew thou couldst do better. See where thou standest to-day!
It is not a little thing to be a governor of the Nicolotti!"

"It is a truth," Piero confessed, "upside down, and not to boast of,
for whoever tries it would wish it less. The bancali are 'like asses who
carry wine and drink water,' for the good of the clouts, in days like
these."

"I heard them talking to-day, Piero. The _barcarioli tosi_ are worse
than Turks; one must pay, to suit their whim, in the middle of the Canal
Grande, or one may wait long for the landing! And there was a scandal
about a friar of San Zanipolo, of whom they had asked a fare for the
crossing; I know not the truth of it! And at Santa Sofia the great cross
with the beautiful golden lustre is gone, and one says it is the