o go to
Fusina or to Mestre, which latter place was really our destination. When
we had traversed half the length of the canal I put my head out, and said
to the waterman on the poop,

"When do you think we shall get to Mestre?"

"But you told me to go to Fusina."

"You must be mad; I said Mestre."

The other boatman said that I was mistaken, and the fool of a monk, in
his capacity of zealous Christian and friend of truth, took care to tell
me that I was wrong. I wanted to give him a hearty kick as a punishment
for his stupidity, but reflecting that common sense comes not by wishing
for it I burst into a peal of laughter, and agreed that I might have made
a mistake, but that my real intention was to go to Mestre. To that they
answered nothing, but a minute after the master boatman said he was ready
to take me to England if I liked.

"Bravely spoken," said I, "and now for Mestre, ho!"

"We shall be there in three quarters of an hour, as the wind and tide
are in our favour."

Well pleased I looked at the canal behind us, and thought it had never
seemed so fair, especially as there was not a single boat coming our way.
It was a glorious morning, the air was clear and glowing with the first
rays of the sun, and my two young watermen rowed easily and well; and as
I thought over the night of sorrow, the dangers I had escaped, the abode
where I had been fast bound the day before, all the chances which had
been in my favour, and the liberty of which I now began to taste the
sweets, I was so moved in my heart and grateful to my God that, well nigh
choked with emotion, I burst into tears.

My nice companion who had hitherto only spoken to back up the gondoliers,
thought himself bound to offer me his consolations. He did not understand
why I was weeping, and the tone he took made me pass from sweet
affliction to a strange mirthfulness which made him go astray once more,
as he thought I had got mad. The poor monk, as I have said, was a fool,
and whatever was bad about him was the result of his folly. I had been
under the sad necessity of turning him to account, but though without
intending to do so he had almost been my ruin. It was no use trying to
make him believe that I had told the gondoliers to go to Fusina whilst I
intended to go to Mestre; he said I could not have thought of that till I
got on to the Grand Canal.

In due course we reached Mestre. There were no horses to ride post, but I
found men with coaches who