No longer did the canals echo the laughter of gay tourists, and desolately the pigeons flew about St. Mark's Square, which was almost a deserted place save for the workmen to whom had been assigned the task of protecting the church by placing sandbags on the roofs and iron girders at the windows: mournfully lapped the waters of the Adriatic.
The bronze horses were transferred to Rome for safety; even the pictures by the great masters were taken from their places and hidden, lest they fall into the hands of the enemy.
Old Paolo, who, for a year past had been decrepit, died, broken-hearted, when the first news came of Austrian victories. He was sadly missed in his accustomed haunts. A younger man succeeded him as caretaker of St. Mark's, and Andrea, not old enough to be drafted for service at the front, was appointed chief guard of the church by night.
Sacrifice was the watchword of the hour. Men gave up the savings of years, women brought their trinkets to be sold or melted down for the use of the Government.
And Andrea—what had he to give?
One night, as he paced back and forth on his beat, listening for the possible roar of an aeroplane or the sudden bursting of a bomb, there flashed into his mind the story of services rendered Venice in the olden time by homing pigeons. He seemed a child again, sitting close to old Paolo's side and listening to his tales of happenings in the long ago.
True, now there was wireless at the front, besides telephones and telegraphs, and yet, even with all modern inventions, he wondered if the War Department might not be able to find some use for a trusty pigeon.
Though the boy's heart grew faint at the thought of the sacrifice, his resolution was immediately taken, and as soon as he was released from duty in the morning he made his way directly round the church to the bird's nest. He was tall now and had no need of the box Paolo had placed so long ago for use as a step: thrusting his hand through the aperture, he firmly grasped Chico who happened at that time to be taking his turn with the eggs while his mate enjoyed a much-needed constitutional.
Naturally he resented the interruption and made futile efforts to free himself. But Andrea was resolved on no delay, and without more ado bore off the struggling bird, just as Pepita fluttered into the aperture, with an apology for being late, and ready to assume her wifely duties.
"Chico! Chico!" the boy exclaimed, gently smoothing the rumpled feathers, "you mustn't mind, old fellow. I'm sorry to take you away, but you and I have a duty to our country and we mustn't shirk!"