“This is Messer Francisco Hammond,” he said.

“Tell your story your own way,” the doge said.

Francis related the story of the attack on the gondola, and the escape of the ladies in his boat.

“How came you, a foreigner and a youth, to interfere in a fray of this kind?” one of the councillors asked.

“I did not stop to think of my being a stranger, or a youth,” Francis replied quietly.  “I heard the screams of women in distress, and felt naturally bound to render them what aid I could.”

“Did you know who the ladies were?”

“I knew them only by sight.  My friend Matteo Giustiniani had pointed them out to me, on one occasion, as being the daughters of Signor Polani, and connections of his.  When their gondola had passed mine, a few minutes previously, I recognized their faces by the light of the torches in their boat.”

“Were the torches burning brightly?” another of the council asked; “because it may be that this attack was not intended against them, but against some others.”

“The light was bright enough for me to recognize their faces at a glance,” Francis said, “and also the yellow and white sashes of their gondoliers.”

“Did you see any badge or cognizance, either on the gondola or on the persons of the assailants?”

“I did not,” Francis said.  “They certainly wore none.  One of the torches in the Polani gondola had been extinguished in the fray, but the other was still burning, and, had the gondoliers worn coloured sashes or other distinguishing marks, I should have noticed them.”

“Should you recognize, were you to see them again, any of the assailants?”

“I should not,” Francis said.  “They were all masked.”

“You say you struck down the one who appeared to be their leader with an oar, as he was about to leap into your boat.  How was it the oar was in your hand instead of that of your gondolier?”

“I was myself rowing,” Francis said.  “In London, rowing is an amusement of which boys of all classes are fond, and since I have been out here with my father I have learned to row a gondola; and sometimes, when I am out of an evening, I take an oar as well as my gondolier, enjoying the exercise and the speed at which the boat goes along.  I was not rowing when the signora’s boat passed me, but upon hearing the screams, I stood up and took the second oar, to arrive as quickly as possible at the spot.  That was how it was that I had it in my hand, when the man was about to leap into the boat.”

“Then there is nothing at all, so far as you know, to direct your suspicion against anyone as the author of this attack?”

“There was nothing,” Francis said, “either in the gondola itself, or in the attire or persons of those concerned in the fray, which could give me the slightest clue as to their identity.”

“At any rate, young gentleman,” the doge said, “you appear to have behaved with a promptness, presence of mind, and courage—­for it needs courage to interfere in a fray of this sort—­beyond your years; and, in the name of the republic, I thank you for having prevented the commission of a grievous crime.  You will please to remain here for the present.  It may be that, when the person accused of this crime appears before us, you may be able to recognize his figure.”