It was not easy for Ferris to remind his host of the malefactors; but
he brought himself to this ungraciousness. The commissary begged
pardon, and asked him to accompany him below, where he confronted the
accused and the accusers. The tragedy was acted over again with blood-
curdling effectiveness by the Chiozzotti; the gondoliers maintaining
the calm of conscious innocence.

Ferris felt outraged by the trumped-up charge against them.

"Listen, you others the prisoners," said the commissary. "Your padrone
is anxious to return to Venice, and I wish to inflict no further
displeasures upon him. Restore their rope to these honest men, and go
about your business."

The injured gondoliers spoke in low tones together; then one of them
shrugged his shoulders and went out. He came back in a moment and laid
a rope before the commissary.

"Is that the rope?" he asked. "We found it floating down the canal, and
picked it up that we might give it to the rightful owner. But now I
wish to heaven we had let it sink to the bottom of the sea."

"Oh, a beautiful story!" wailed the Chiozzoti. They flung themselves
upon the rope, and lugged it off to their boat; and the gondoliers went
out, too.

The commissary turned to Ferris with an amiable smile. "I am sorry that
those rogues should escape," said the American.