artist's imagination, again displaying the yellow and wrinkled skin,
and the deep-set glittering eyes, which now seemed fixed upon him with
an expression of love and gratitude that froze his blood. With a
shuddering sensation he retreated to the stern of the boat, where
Jacopo stood pale and trembling, crossing himself without a moment's
intermission.

"Are you mad, Signore," whispered the gondolier, "to risk your life in
behalf of such a frightful witch? Never did I see you so ready with
your rapier, flashing it in people's eyes as though it had been one of
your painting brushes."

"By Heaven, Jacopo," answered Antonio, "that was not I"--

"The saints protect us!" interrupted the gondolier. "You are assuredly
bewitched, or have lost your senses, Signore. To think of your thus
denying your own noble daring! Do, for the blessed virgin's sake, let
us jump out upon the next landing-place, and leave the gondola to the
sorceress who has bewitched you. Holy mother! she is coming this way!"

A prey to the strangest and most contradictory emotions, Antonio
hastily advanced to meet the mysterious being, whom he could not help
regarding with superstitious awe, though he at the same time felt
himself drawn towards her by a fascination, against which he found it
was in vain to contend. The features of the unknown were again
shrouded carefully in her veil, but her black and brilliant eyes
glittered through it like nebulous stars.

"To the house of the Capitano of Fiume," whispered she to Antonio, and
then retreated, as if anxious to avoid further conversation, into the
interior of the gondola.

In the district of Castello, through which Antonio and his strange
companion were now passing, the canals and quays were deserted, and
not a sound was heard except the distant hum of the multitude
assembled in the quarter of St Mark's. Without exciting suspicion or
attracting observation, they reached the Rialto and the grand canal,
and the gondola stopped at a landing-place opposite the church of San
Moyses.

As the young painter assisted his mysterious charge out of the boat, a
gentle pressure from the warm soft hand which for a moment rested upon
his, quickened every pulse in his frame; and long after the
enigmatical being had disappeared behind the angle of a palace, he
stood gazing, like one entranced, at the spot where he had last seen
her imposing and graceful figure. The approach of Jacopo, still
crossing himself, and callin