All the rest of that day, and for many days after, the children followed
Carlotta through the maze of streets, dancing and singing in the piazzas
and the market-place, or anywhere else where crowds were gathered.
Giovanni, having nothing else to do, went with them much of the time,
and added his talents to the exhibition. He could turn "cart-wheels"
until he looked like a real whirling wheel with only four spokes, and he
could walk on his hands. He was glad to display these accomplishments,
for he liked being away from home, he liked Carina, and best of all he
liked the Twins. The three became quite friendly, and Carlotta, seeing
this, smiled her sly smile, and winked knowingly at Giovanni's mother,
as though to say: "You see, they are getting used to their new way of
living. Soon they will forget their old home, and I shall have no more
trouble with them."
Little by little the children came to know Venice better than they had
known Florence, which is not saying much, since in Florence they had so
completely lost themselves. They could go from Giovanni's house to the
Rialto, the largest of the three bridges which span the Grand Canal, and
find their way through the maze of streets to the beautiful Piazza of
San Marco. They liked best to go there, not only because it is the most
beautiful spot in Venice, not even because it is said to be the finest
piazza in the world, but also because the flocks of pigeons flying about
in clouds, and lighting upon their shoulders, made them think of their
own little garden in Florence.
Carlotta liked the piazza because it was the best place in Venice to
gather in the soldi. There were always tourists in the square, walking
about with guide-books in their hands, and reading passages about its
history aloud to one another. Indeed, there was no end to the wonderful
things in that famous square. There was the Church of San Marco itself,
with its beautiful mosaics and the four splendid bronze horses over the
entrance. There was the magnificent Ducal Palace, packed full of
thrilling stories of past splendour; and, back of it, spanning the
canal, the "Bridge of Sighs," which led from the palace to a dark prison
on the other side. On the day she first saw that, Beppina shed tears,
thinking of all the unhappy prisoners who had passed over the bridge
never to return. She knew how prisoners felt.
Giovanni tried to comfort her. "Don't you fret about them," he said.
"They're as dead as they can be, all of 'em, and in purgatory or a worse
place, and you can't get 'em out no matter how hard you pray. Come on;
let's go look at the clock."
Beppina knew that Carlotta would be angry if they lingered, but still
she crossed herself and murmured a hurried "Our Father" for the poor
prisoners, on the chance of its helping them, before she ran back to
Beppo and Giovanni. She found them standing before the great
clock-tower which rose above a high gateway over the street. It was
almost noon, and a crowd had gathered to see the clock strike the hour.
There was always a group waiting there on the hour, for this was no
ordinary clock. The children watched with breathless interest as two
bronze giants on the platform high above their heads suddenly lifted
their arms and struck a huge bell twelve times, then relapsed into
bronze statues again. Giovanni told the Twins that at Christmas-time
the Three Wise Men came out of the clock and bowed before the Madonna
and Child. The Twins thought this could be nothing else than a miracle,
but Giovanni, who was wise beyond his years, said it was just works in
the clock's insides. "It's no more a miracle than a stomach-ache inside
of you," he explained.
There was no time for further revelations on the day this happened, for
at that moment Carlotta called them. She was afraid the crowd would
disperse before she had coaxed money from their pockets. Every moment
that they were not dancing or singing, the children wandered about this
magic place, where in every direction they looked there were wonderful
stories in bronze, marble, or mosaic. One could stay there a year and
not begin to know them all. If it rained, they took refuge under the
arcade of the Ducal Palace or in the quiet interior of the Church of San
Marco itself. Sometimes they could even step in and pray before the
altar. Their prayers were always the same, that the Holy Virgin and
Saint Anthony, the special guide of those who were lost, would take care
of them and bring them safely again to their Babbo and Mammina and their
lovely home.
Many days passed in this way, and it was the middle of May before the
children ever rode in a boat, for though Giovanni's father had a
gondola, it was his business to take passengers about Venice just like a
cab-driver in our own cities, and he did not use it for pleasure rides
for Giovanni and his friends.
Then one afternoon when they returned from singing in the piazza, they
found Luigi waiting to show Carlotta the boat which he had bought with
the money he received for the donkeys and the van. It was not a
gondola, but a _sandalo_, a large row-boat, with a pair of oars, suited
to carry either passengers or freight.
"The weather is warm now," said Luigi to Carlotta; "the tourists are
already lingering on the canals for pleasure in the evenings, and I
believe we should do well to let the children go about with me in the
boat to sing."
Though they were weary from dancing and singing all day in the streets,
it would be far pleasanter to drift about on the canal in the evening
than to spend it tossing about on the husk mattresses in Giovanni's
squalid house, and the children listened with eager attention to
Carlotta's reply.
"As you like," she said, shrugging her shoulders; and that very evening
the plan was carried out. Luigi rowed the boat slowly about on the
Grand Canal, and the sweet voices of the children, floating out over the
still waters, attracted the gondolas about them, and many soldi were
flung to the singers.
As the weather grew warmer, the evenings on the canal grew longer and
longer. Sometimes the gondolas would join together in long chains and
float about in the moonlight with every one joining in the singing. On
festival nights there were Chinese lanterns in every prow, and the
boats, flitting about over the water, looked like giant fireflies at
play.
In this way three weeks drifted by, and at last it was June, and still
the children had made no progress toward freedom.