"Holy Maria pray for them, as I now ask mercy in their behalf! Father, they are forgiven."
"Amen!"
The Carmelite arose and stood over the kneeling Antonio with the whole of his benevolent countenance illuminated by the moon. Stretching his arms towards the stars, he pronounced the absolution in a voice that was touched with pious fervor. The upward expectant eye, with the withered lineaments of the fisherman, and the holy calm of the monk, formed a picture of resignation and hope that angels would have loved to witness.
"Amen! amen!" exclaimed Antonio, as he arose crossing himself; "St. Anthony and the Virgin aid me to keep these resolutions!"
"I will not forget thee, my son, in the offices of holy church. Receive my benediction, that I may depart."
Antonio again bowed his knee while the Carmelite firmly pronounced the words of peace. When this last office was performed, and a decent interval of mutual but silent prayer had passed, a signal was given to summon the gondola of the state. It came rowing down with great force, and was instantly at their side. Two men passed into the boat of Antonio, and with officious zeal assisted the monk to resume his place in that of the Republic.
"Is the penitent shrived?" half whispered one, seemingly the superior of the two.
"Here is an error. He thou seek'st has escaped. This aged man is a fisherman named Antonio, and one who cannot have gravely offended St. Mark. The Bravo hath passed towards the island of San Giorgio, and must be sought elsewhere."
The officer released the person of the monk, who passed quickly beneath the canopy, and he turned to cast a hasty glance at the features of the fisherman. The rubbing of a rope was audible, and the anchor of Antonio was lifted by a sudden jerk. A heavy plashing of the water followed, and the two boats shot away together, obedient to a violent effort of the crew. The gondola of the state exhibited its usual number of gondoliers, bending to their toil, with its dark and hearse-like canopy, but that of the fisherman was empty!
The sweep of the oars and the plunge of the body of Antonio had been blended in a common wash of the surge. When the fisherman came to the surface after his fall, he was alone in the centre of the vast but tranquil sheet of water. There might have been a glimmering of hope as he arose from the darkness of the sea to the bright beauty of that moonlit night. But the sleeping domes were too far for human strength, and the gondolas were sweeping madly towards the town. He turned, and swimming feebly, for hunger and previous exertion had undermined his strength, he bent his eye on the dark spot which he had constantly recognised as the boat of the Bravo.