ning
filled the Eastern sky, and all honest men, but poor belated
gondoliers, had hied them home.

I refused to go.

Had I not seen Gian the painter go not half an hour before? Well, if
he could go, others could too.

I refused to go--except for double fare.

He accepted and placed the double fare in silver in my palm. Then he
gave a whistle and from behind the corners came trooping enough
swashbuckler students to swamp my gondola. I let in just enough to
fill the seats and pushed off, leaving several standing on the stone
steps cursing me and everything and everybody.

As my boat slid away in the fog and headed on our course, I glanced
back and saw the three barca-loads following in my wake.

There was much muffled talk, and orders from some one in charge to
keep silence. But there was passing of strong drink, and then talk,
and from it I gathered that these were all students from Pascale's,
out on one of those student carousals, intent on heaven knows what! It
was none of my business.

We shipped considerable water, and some of the students were down on
their knees praying and bailing, bailing and praying.

At last we reached the Murano landing. All got out, the barcas tied
up, and I tied up, too, determined to see what was doing. The strong
drink was passed, and a low, heavy-set fellow who seemed to be captain
charged all not to speak, but to follow him and do as he did.

We took a side street where there was little travel and followed
through the dark and dripping way, fully a half-mile, down there in
that end of the island called the sailors' broglio, where they say no
man's life is safe if he has a silver coin or two. There was much
music in the wine-shops and shouts of mirth and dancing feet on stone
floors, but the rain had driven every one from the streets.

We came to a long, low, stone building that used to be a theater, but
was now a dance-hall upstairs and a warehouse below. There were lights
upstairs and sounds of music. The stairway was dark, but we felt our
way up and on tiptoe advanced to the big double door, from under which
the light streamed.

We had received our orders, and when we got to the landing we stood
there just an instant. "Now we have him--Gian the hypocrite!" whispered
the stout man in a hoarse breath. We burst in the doors with a whoop
and a bang. The change from the dark to the light sort of blinded us
at first. We all supposed that there was a dance in progress of
course