"'He stared into her pale yellow face, where the wrinkles were all twitching and working in a strange, gruesome fashion; and, as she went on clapping her withered, "bony hands, and gabbling out, in a whining tone, accompanied with her odd, repulsive chuckling,
"'"Keep away from the Fontego!"
"'Antonio cried,
"'"Will nothing induce you to cease your idiotic nonsense, and behave like a reasonable being, you old witch?"
"'But the instant he uttered this, the old woman rolled from the top to the bottom of the flight of lofty marble steps where she was sitting, as if struck by a flash of lightning. Antonio darted up to her and caught her in his arms, breaking her heavy fall.
"'"Oh, little son! what a terrible word you used!" cried the old woman, in a faint, tearful voice. "Oh! kill me rather than say that terrible word again! Ah! you do not know how dreadfully you hurt me!--me, who bear you so faithfully in my heart. Ah! you do not know----"
"'She broke off suddenly, covered her head with the corner of her old cloak, and sighed and whimpered as in the deepest sorrow. Antonio was strangely moved: he took her in his arms, and carried her up the steps to the portico of the church, where he set her down on a marble bench.
"'"You were very kind to me," he said, releasing her head from the folds of the cloak. "You were very kind to me. It is you whom I have to thank for my good fortune. For if you had not helped me in my dire necessity I should have been at the bottom of the sea at this moment. I should never have rescued the Doge; I should never have got the zecchini. But even if you never had done anything for me, I feel that I must always have a strange, strong liking for you all my days, though that extraordinary cackle of yours and your senseless style of behaviour often make me feel plenty of inward gruesomeness with regard to you. The fact is, old woman, that in the days when I was gaining a mere livelihood by portering and rowing I always felt that I must work harder than I otherwise should have had to do, just that I might have a spare quattrino now and then to give to you."
"'"Oh, my Tonino! my golden little son!" she cried, lifting her hands to heaven, so that her staff fell clattering down the marble steps, and rolled far away; "oh, my Tonino! I know that, whatever you think, you must always be devoted to me with your whole heart, because----silence--silence--silence!"
"'She bent stiffly down, in search of her staff; Antonio fetched it; she leant her sharp chin upon it, and, fixing her eyes on the ground, said, in a subdued, hollow voice: