The singing ceased. The gondolas swung near the music barge, from which white, phantom hands were outstretched. Into those hands fell silver coins, and the gondolas swept away.
Dick spoke a word of command to Reggio, who quickly sent them close to the boat of the singers. Merriwell added his contribution to the collection the musicians were taking up.
“There’s still music in Venice,” said Dick, as they drifted away.
“But now,” said Professor Gunn, “the musicians are professionals, who take that way of making a living.”
“Then,” spoke Dick, “in a certain sense it is true that—
“‘In Venice Tasso’s echoes are no more,
And silent rows the songless gondolier:
Her palaces are crumbling to the shore,
And music meets not always now the ear;
Those days are gone—but beauty still is here.’”