or in a quicksand, as there seemed some reason
to fear, but in a spacious and elegant station, brilliantly lighted with
gas, and reminding one, from its sudden apparition and its strange site,
of the fabled palace of the Sicilian Fairy Queen, only not built, like
hers, of sunshine and sea-mist. We were marched in file past, first the
tribunal of the searchers, and next the tribunal of the passport
officials; and then an Austrian gendarme opening to each, as he passed
this ordeal, the door of the station-house, I stepped out, to have my
first sight, as I hoped, of the Queen of the Adriatic.

I found myself in the midst of the sea, standing on a little platform of
land, with a cloudy mass floating before me, resembling, in the
uncertain light, the towers and domes of a spectral city. It was now for
the first time that I realized the peculiar position of Venice. I had
often read of the city whose streets were canals and whose chariots were
gondolas; but I had failed to lay hold of it as a reality, and had
unconsciously placed Venice in the region of fable. There was no missing
the fact now. I was hemmed in on all sides by the ocean, and could not
move a step without the certainty of being drowned. What was I to do? In
answer to my inquiries, I was told that I must proceed to my hotel in
an omnibus. This sounded of the earth, and I looked eagerly round to see
the desired vehicle; but horses, carriage, wheels, I could see none. I
could no more conceive of an omnibus that could swim on the sea, than
the Venetians could of a gondola that could move on the dry land. I was
shown a large gondola, to which the name of omnibus was given, which lay
at the bottom of the stairs waiting for passengers. I descended into it,
and was followed by some thirty more. We were men of various nations and
various tongues, and we took our seats in silence. We pushed off, and
were soon gliding along on the Grand Canal. Not a word was spoken.
Although we had been a storming party sent to surprise an enemy's fort
by night, we could not have conducted our proceedings in profounder
quiet. There reigned as unbroken a stillness around us, as if, instead
of the midst of a city, we had been in the solitude of the high seas. No
foot-fall re-echoed through that strange abode. Sound of chariot-wheel
there was none. Nothing was audible but the soft dip of the oar, and the
startled shout of an occasional gondolier, who feared, perhaps, that our
heavier craft mig