half running,
and when I got there not a boat was to be seen--the three barcas and my
gondola were gone.

I thought I could see them, out through the mist, a quarter of a mile
away. I called aloud, but no answer came back but the hissing wind. I
was in despair--they were stealing my boat, and if they did not steal
it, it would surely be wrecked--my all, my precious boat!

I cried and wrung my hands. I prayed! And the howling winds only ran
shrieking and laughing around the corners of the building.

I saw a glimmering light down the beach at a little landing. I ran to
it, hoping some gondolier might be found who would row me over to the
city. There was one boat at the landing and in it a hunchback, sound
asleep, covered with a canvas. It was Gian Bellini's boat. I shook the
hunchback into wakefulness and begged him to row me across to the
city. I yelled into his deaf ears, but he pretended not to understand
me. Then I showed him the silver coin--the double fare--and tried to
place it in his hand. But no, he only shook his head.

I ran up the beach, still looking for a boat.

An hour had passed.

-------------------------------------

I got back to the landing just as Gian came down to his boat.

I approached him and explained that I was a poor worker in the
glass-factory, who had to work all day and half the night, and as I
lived over in the city and my wife was dying, I must get home. Would
he allow me to ride with His Highness? "Certainly--with pleasure, with
pleasure!" he answered, and then pulling something from under his sash
he said, "Is this your cap, Signor?" I took my cap, but my tongue was
paralyzed for the moment so I could not thank him.

The wind had died down, the rain had ceased, and from between the
blue-black clouds the moon shone out. Gian rowed with a strong, fine
stroke, singing a "Te Deum Laudamus" softly to himself the while.

I lay there and wept, thinking of my boat, my all, my precious boat!

We reached the landing--and there was my boat, safely tied up, not a
cushion nor a cord missing.

Gian Bellini? He may be a rogue as Pascale Salvini says--God knows! How
can I tell--I am only a poor gondolier!

-------------------------------------

So here then endeth the Volume entitled "The Mintage," the same
being Ten Stories and One More written by Elbert Hubbard. The
whole done into a printed book by The Roycrofters at their Shop,
which is in the Village of