lustration: "The gondola is the centre of everything;
it is Venice and a living creature besides"]

The Colonel had not observed that one of the shadowy barks had glided
close in under the wall at his feet.

"Why, Nanni!" he exclaimed; and reaching down over the railing he
clasped a strong brown hand.

The man was standing at the stern of the gondola, steadying the oar with
one hand. He had flung his hat to the floor of the boat, and as he stood
there, bare-headed, the garden lights shining full upon his upturned
face, he made a striking picture. His hair was absolutely black, and his
face was of the pure Italian type, very dark, and cast in noble lines.
About the mouth and eyes, a touch of austere melancholy was discernible,
even now, in the animation of the moment. He was like his brother, though
his face lacked the sunlit quality which was his brother's chief charm of
countenance. On the other hand, the intelligence of his brother's face
was here developed into something higher and more serious,--higher and
sadder, the Colonel thought, in the moment's pause that followed. He had
not seen this protege of his for ten years, and the years had left their
impress upon him.

"Vittorio has met with a slight accident," Nanni was saying. "He has
twisted his wrist, and if he rows this evening it will get worse. Will
the Signore permit me to act as substitute?"

The Signore looked disturbed.

"I don't know, Nanni, how that would work," he said. "My nieces, you
know. I'm afraid they would find you out."

"No fear of that, Signore. I'm as good a gondolier as ever I was, and I
can hold my tongue."

The Colonel looked at him critically. To the initiated, there was a good
deal both in the man's speech and bearing to rouse suspicion. A subtle
difference that would hardly be defined as superiority; was it not
rather something contradictory, not quite homogeneous, and in so far
disadvantageous? The Colonel was not addicted to careful analysis of his
impressions, and he felt himself cornered.

"I hope you won't misunderstand me, Nanni," he said, apologetically.
"I'm immensely proud of you;--it isn't that. But,--well, it's not my
way to talk about things. I suppose it's crochety, but somehow, I like
to keep things separate, you know. If you talk about a thing it usually
spoils it."

It did not once occur to the Colonel that the man of education, and
presumably of some social standing, would feel any aversion to a
temporary r