and he did not stir until, an hour and a half after the return of
Francis, the latter heard the fall of footsteps approaching the
gondola.

"Wake up, Giuseppi, here comes our fare!"

Francis stood up and stretched himself as the stranger came alongside,
as if he too had been fast asleep.

"Take me back to the spot where I hailed you," the fare said briefly,
as he stepped into the boat and threw himself back on the cushions, and
without a word the lads dipped their oars in the water and the gondola
glided away towards Venice.

Just as they reached the mouth of the Grand Canal, and were about to
turn into it, a six-oared gondola shot out from under the point, and a
voice called out:

"Stop, in the name of the republic, and give an account of yourselves!"

"Row on," the passenger exclaimed, starting up. "Ten ducats if you can
set me safely on shore."

Had the lads been real gondoliers, it is probable that even this
tempting offer would not have induced them to disregard the order from
the galley, for they would have run no slight risk in so doing. But
Francis had no desire to be caught, and perhaps imprisoned for a
considerable time, until he was able to convince the council that his
share of the night's work had been merely the result of a boyish freak.
With two strokes of his oar, therefore, he swept the boat's head round,