Phaeton said he knew the outlines of her history, Jimmy said he knew about the Bucentaur and the brass horses, but Ned and I confessed total ignorance.
"I've just been reading it," said Holman, "and that's where I got my idea. You must know that when Venice was a rich republic, the Doge—who was the same as a president or mayor—used to go out once a year in a big row-boat called the Bucentaur, with banners and streamers, and a brass band, and a lot of jolly fellows, and marry the Adriatic Sea, as they called it. That is, he threw a splendid wedding-ring into the water, and then I suppose they all gave three cheers, and fired a salute, and had some lemonade, and perhaps made speeches that were a little tedious, like those we have to listen to at school on examination-day. At any rate, he threw in the ring, and that's the important thing."
"What was all that for?" said Ned.
"Jack-in-the-Box told me," said Holman, "it was because the Venetians were a sea-going people, and all their wealth came from commerce, and so this ceremony signified their devotion to the sea. But, as I was saying, this was done regularly every year for six hundred and twenty years; and what makes it lucky for us is, that it was always done at the same spot—the Porto di Lido, a channel through that long, narrow island that lies a little off shore."
"I don't see where the luck for us comes in," said I. "If the Doges had been our grandfathers, and bequeathed us the rings instead of throwing them away, there might be some luck in that."
"Wait till you see what I'm coming to," said Holman. "The Adriatic is a shallow sea,—I've looked up all the facts,—and my idea is, that we might as well have those rings as for them to lie there doing nobody any good."
"How much are they worth?" said Ned.
"You can calculate it for yourself," said Holman. "As I said before, the ceremony was repeated every year for six hundred and twenty years. Of course, we might not get quite all of them—throw off the twenty; there are six hundred rings. They must have been splendid ones, and were probably worth at least a hundred dollars apiece. There's sixty thousand dollars, all in a huddle in that one spot."
"But don't you suppose," said Ned, "that after a while those cunning old Doges would stop throwing in solid gold rings with real diamonds on them, and use brass ones washed with gold, and paste diamonds?"
"I think not," said Holman; "for they didn't have to pay for them—the bill was footed by the Common Council. And they couldn't try that without getting caught. For of course the ring would be on exhibition a week or so in the window of some fashionable jewelry store, and the newspapers would tell that it was furnished by the celebrated establishment of So-and-So."