gone two or three hundred feet and reached the point where the smaller waterway opened into the Grand Canal, when Beppina was appalled to see the dim outline of another boat a little distance behind them. “They’re following!” she gasped. “Oh, Beppo, hurry!”
Beppo bent to his oars and the boat fairly shot through the water! On and on they sped, past the great palaces now dark and grim in starlight, past the market-place, round the great curve of the canal, and soon to their great relief the black boat was no longer following.
“Do you suppose it was Luigi?” gasped Beppina.
“No,” said Beppo, “he couldn’t possibly have got after us so quickly, because I untied Mario’s gondola too. It would drift away far enough so Luigi would have to swim to get it, and he couldn’t do it in this time, I know. Maybe it was a police boat, or maybe it was some one going home late. Anyway, he wasn’t after us, so I don’t care who he was.”
“Oh, Beppo, tell me your plan. Where are we going?” begged Beppina.
“Keep still,” growled Beppo; “the less noise we make the more chance there is of our getting away.”
Beppina crumpled up in the bottom and said no more, while Beppo made the boat skim on over the dark waters. At last he turned the prow toward shore and touched at a dock where many boats were already moored. There was no sign of life about the place, as they disembarked. There was only the soft lapping of the water to break the silence.
“Stoop down,” whispered Beppo. “These are the boats that cross over to Mestre on the mainland before daylight to bring fruit and vegetables back to market, and it may be that some of the men sleep in the boats. We might wake them.”
For a few moments they listened, crouching down on the dock, and then, as they heard no sound, Beppo gave the sándalo a shove away from shore, and let go the rope.
“Oh,” whispered Beppina, “why did you do that?”