“I begin to know the sounds of that voice, though they come from a masked face,” said the fisherman.  “Friend, I owe my success to-day to thy kindness, and though it has not had the end for which I had both hoped and prayed, I ought not to thank thee less.  Thou hast thyself been borne hard upon by the world, or thou would’st not have bethought thee of an old and despised man, when the shouts of triumph were ringing in thy ear, and when thy own young blood was stirred with the feelings of pride and victory.”

“Nature gives thee strong language, fisherman.  I have not passed the hours, truly, in the games and levities of my years.  Life has been no festa to me—­but no matter.  The senate was not pleased to hear of lessening the number of the galleys’ crew, and thou wilt bethink thee of some other reward.  I have here the chain and golden oar in the hope that it will still be welcome.”

Antonio looked amazed, but, yielding to a natural curiosity, he gazed a moment with a longing at the prize.  Then recoiling with a shudder, he uttered moodily, and with the tones of one whose determination was made:  “I should think the bauble coined of my grandchild’s blood!  Keep it; they have trusted it to thee, for it is thine of right, and now that they refuse to hear my prayer, it will be useless to all but to him who fairly earned it.”

“Thou makest no allowance, fisherman, for difference of years and for sinews that are in their vigor.  Methinks that in adjudging such a prize, thought should be had to these matters, and then wouldest thou be found outstripping us all.  Holy St. Theodore!  I passed my childhood with the oar in hand, and never before have I met one in Venice who has driven my gondola so hard!  Thou touchest the water with the delicacy of a lady fingering her harp, and yet with the force of the wave rolling on the Lido!”

“I have seen the hour, Jacopo, when even thy young arm would have tired in such a strife between us.  That was before the birth of my eldest son, who died in battle with the Ottoman, when the dear boy he left me was but an infant in arms.  Thou never sawest the comely lad, good Jacopo?”

“I was not so happy, old man; but if he resembled thee, well mayest thou mourn his loss.  Body of Diana!  I have little cause to boast of the small advantage youth and strength gave me.”

“There was a force within that bore me and the boat on, but of what use hath it been?  Thy kindness and the pain given to an old frame, that hath been long racked by hardship and poverty, are both thrown away on the rocky hearts of the nobles.”

“We know not yet, Antonio.  The good saints will hear our prayers, when we least think they are listening.  Come with me, for I am sent to seek thee.”