"Who art thou?" hoarsely demanded he who took upon himself the authority of a leader.
"A Carmelite, and a servant of God!"
"Dost thou serve St. Mark? Hast thou been to the Canale Orfano to shrive a wretch?"
"I am here in attendance on a young and noble lady, who has need of my counsel and prayers. The happy and the miserable, the free and the captive, are equally my care!"
"Ha! Thou art not above thy office? Thou wilt say the prayers for the dead in behalf of a poor man's soul?"
"My son, I know no difference, in this respect, between the Doge and the poorest fisherman. Still I would not willingly desert the females."
"The ladies shall receive no harm. Come into my boat, for there is need of thy holy office."
Father Anselmo—the reader will readily anticipate that it was he—entered the canopy, said a few words in explanation to his trembling companions, and complied. He was rowed to the leading gondola, and, by a sign, directed to the dead body.
"Thou see'st that corpse, father?" continued his conductor. "It is the face of one who was an upright and pious Christian!"
"He was."