essions of
fifty Christians. Now, if your eccellenza should see fit to give me
authority to question him in your name, the deuce is in't if between
respect for his lord, and good management, we could not draw something
more than a false bill of lading from him."

"Thou wilt take thy choice of my gondolas for the regatta, Gino,"
observed the Duke of Sant' Agata, entering the pavilion, and throwing
himself on the glossy black leathern cushions, without adverting to the
suggestion of his servant.

The gondola continued its noiseless course, with the sprite-like
movement peculiar to that description of boat. Gino, who, as superior
over his fellow, stood perched on the little arched deck in the stern,
pushed his oar with accustomed readiness and skill, now causing the
light vessel to sheer to the right, and now to the left, as it glided
among the multitude of craft, of all sizes and uses, which it met in
its passage. Palace after palace had been passed, and more than one of
the principal canals, which diverged towards the different spectacles,
or the other places of resort frequented by his master, was left behind,
without Don Camillo giving any new direction. At length the boat arrived
opposite to a building which seemed to excite more than common
expectation. Giorgio worked his oar with a single hand, looking over his
shoulder at Gino, and Gino permitted his blade fairly to trail on the
water. Both seemed to await new orders, manifesting something like that
species of instinctive sympathy with him they served, which a long
practised horse is apt to show when he draws near a gate that is seldom
passed unvisited by his driver.

The edifice which caused this hesitation in the two gondoliers was one
of those residences at Venice, which are quite as remarkable for their
external riches and ornaments as for their singular situation amid the
waters. A massive rustic basement of marble was seated as solidly in the
element as if it grew from a living rock, while story was seemingly
raised on story, in the wanton observance of the most capricious rules
of meretricious architecture, until the pile reached an altitude that is
little known, except in the dwellings of princes. Colonnades,
medallions, and massive cornices overhung the canal, as if the art of
man had taken pride in loading the superstructure in a manner to mock
the unstable element which concealed its base. A flight of steps, on
which each gentle undulation produced by