whining!' cried Gambardella angrily.
'You will drive me to commit a crime!'

'One more will make no difference,' returned Trombin, with great
coolness. 'After the first, which sullied the virgin lustre of your
spotless soul, my dear friend, it is of no use to count the others, till
you come to the last--and may you enjoy many long years of health,
activity, and happiness before that is reached!'

'The same to you!' answered the melancholic man morosely, for he was
hungry, and in no humour for banter.

They stopped where a wooden bridge spanned the narrow canal, for all
bridges in Venice were not yet built of stone in the year 1670.

They had only one thought, and Trombin had already expressed it twice
with longing and regret. So far as mere hunger and thirst went, they
could satisfy themselves with bread, salt fish and cheese, and a draught
of water. They were not such imprudent gentlemen as to risk absolute
starvation in their native city, where they could get no credit, and
though they often lived riotously for months together, they invariably
set aside a sum which would furnish them with the merest necessities for
a considerable time. There was a system in their way of living, and they
stuck to it with a laudable determination which would have done honour
to better men. Enough was not as good as a feast, and since their income
was always uncertain, the only way to get any real enjoyment out of life
was to feast recklessly while they could, though only for a few days,
and then to pay for extravagance with the strictest asceticism, till a
rain of gold once more gladdened the garret to which they had retired to
fast.

They stood by the end of the bridge in silence a long time while it grew
dark, Gambardella gazing sadly at the dark water of the still canal at
his feet, while Trombin, who was of a more hopeful disposition, looked
at the evening star, just visible in the darkening west, between the
long lines of tall houses on each side of the canal. The reason why
they stopped just then with one accord was that to cross the bridge
meant to go home to their wretched lodging, though it was still so
early; and the prospect was not attractive. But they knew their
weakness, and long ago had bound themselves together by promises they
would not break. If they turned away from the bridge and followed the
narrow street, they would come in time to Saint Mark's Square, and they
would breathe the intoxicating air of pleasure t