Saint Mark's, Saint Theodore climbed to the top of his column, where his
crocodile was grumbling with ill-humour, and Saint George went to squat
in the depths of his columned niche in the great window of the Ducal
Palace.

The gondolier, rather astonished, and he had reason enough, would have
believed that he had been dreaming after drinking during that evening
several glasses too many of the wine of Samos, if the large and heavy
golden ring studded with precious stones which he held in his hand had
not prevented his doubting the reality of the events of the night.

Therefore, he went to find the Doge, who was presiding over the Senate
in his cap of office, and, respectfully kneeling before him, he related
the story of the battle between the devils and the patron saints of
Venice. At first this story seemed incredible; but the return of the
ring, which was in very sooth that of Saint Mark, and the absence of
which from the church treasury was established, proved the gondolier's
veracity. This ring, locked up under triple keys in a carefully-guarded
treasury, the bolts of which showed no trace of disturbance, could only
have been removed by supernatural means. They filled the gondolier's cap
with gold and celebrated a mass of thanksgiving for the peril they had
escaped. This did not prevent the Venetians from continuing their
dissolute course of life, from spending their nights in the haunts of
play, at gay suppers, and in love-making; in masking for intrigues, and
in prolonging the long orgy of their carnival for six months in the
year. The Venetians counted upon the protection of Saint Mark to go to
paradise and they took no other care of their salvation. That was Saint
Mark's affair; they had built him a fine church for that, and the Saint
was still under obligations to them.