Chapter 19: The Siege Of Chioggia.

Late in the afternoon, Francis embarked in his gondola, and in an hour

and a half landed at Pelestrina. He was well known, to those posted

there, as the bearer of Pisani's orders, and as soon as it became dark,

Rufino Giustiniani, who was in command, ordered a dozen men to carry

the light gondola across the island to the Malamocco channel. While

this was being done, Francis went to Rufino's tent, and informed him of

what was going on in Venice, and that the whole fleet would set sail on

the morrow.

"We heard rumours, from the men who brought our rations, that it was to

be so," Rufino said; "but we have heard the same story a dozen times.

So, now, it is really true! But what can the admiral be thinking of!

Sure he can't intend to attack Doria with this newly-manned fleet and

rabble army. He could not hope for victory against such odds!"

"The admiral's intentions are kept a profound secret," Francis said,

"and are only known to the doge and the Council of Ten."

"And to yourself," Rufino said laughing.

"The admiral is good enough to honour me with his fullest confidence,"

Francis said; "and in this matter, it is so important that the nature

of the design should be kept wholly secret, that I cannot tell it even

to you!"

"You are quite right, Francisco; nor do I wish to know it, though I

would wager that Maria, and her pretty sister, have some inkling of

what is going on."

Francis laughed.

"The signoras are good enough to treat me as a brother," he said, "and

I will not affirm that they have not obtained some slight information."

"I will warrant they have!" Rufino said. "When my wife has made up her

mind to get to the bottom of a matter, she will tease and coax till she

succeeds.

"Ah, here is Matteo! he has been out posting the sentries for the

night."

The two friends had not indulged in a talk for some weeks, though they

had occasionally met when Francis paid one of his flying visits to the

island.

"I have just seen your boat being carried along," Matteo said, as he

entered the tent. "I could not think what it was till I got close; but

of course, when I saw Giuseppi, I knew all about it. What are you going

to do--scout among the Genoese?"

"I am going to find out as much as I can," Francis said.

"It's a capital idea your bringing the boat across the island," Matteo

said. "You are always full of good ideas, Francis. I can't make it out.

They never seem to occur to me, and at the present time, especially,

the only ideas that come into my mind are as to the comfortable meals I

will eat, when this business is over. I never thought I cared much for

eating before, but since I have had nothing but bread--and not enough

of that--and an occasional fish, I have discovered that I am really

fond of good living. My bones ache perpetually with lying on the bare

ground, and if I escape from this, without being a cripple for life

from rheumatism, I shall consider myself lucky, indeed. You are a

fortunate fellow, Francisco; spending your time in the admiral's

comfortable palace, or flying about in a smooth-rowing gondola!"

"That is one side of the question certainly," Francis said, laughing;

"but there is a good deal of hard work, too, in the way of writing."

"I should not like that," Matteo said. "Still, I think you have the

best of it. If the Genoese would come sometimes, and try and drive us

off the island, there would be some excitement. But, except when the

admiral wishes a reconnaissance, or Barberigo's galleys come down and

stir them up, there is really nothing doing here."

"That ought to suit you exactly, Matteo, for never but once did I hear

you say you wanted to do anything."

"When was that?" Rufino asked, laughing.

"Matteo conceived a violent desire to climb Mount Etna," Francis said,

"and it needed all my arguments to prevent his leaving the ship at

Girgenti, while she was loading, and starting to make the ascent."

"He would have repented before he had gone a quarter of the way up,"

Rufino said.

"I might have repented," Matteo replied stoutly, "but I would have done

it, if I had begun. You don't know me yet, Rufino. I have a large store

of energy, only at present I have had no opportunity of showing what I

am made of.

"And now, how do you intend to proceed, Francisco? Have you any plan?"

"None at all," Francis replied. "I simply want to assure myself that

the galleys are all in their usual places, and that the Genoese are

making no special preparations against our coming."

"I have seen no unusual stir," Rufino said. "Their ships, as far as one

can see their masts, seem all in their usual position. I fancy that,

since Barberigo carried off two of them, they have put booms across the

channels to prevent sudden attacks. I saw a lot of rowboats busy about

something, but I could not make out exactly what they were doing; but

still, I fancy they were constructing a boom. Their galleys keep a

sharp lookout at night, and you certainly would not have succeeded in

passing them, had you not hit upon this plan of carrying your boat

over.

"Your greatest danger will be at first. When once you have fairly

entered the inner canals, you are not likely to be suspected of being

an enemy. They will take you for Chioggian fishermen late. We often

make out their returning boats near the town. No doubt Doria is fond of

fresh fish. Otherwise you would be detected, for the Genoese boats are,

of course, quite different to ours, and even in the dark they would

make out that you belonged to the lagoons.

"Ah, here is supper! It is not often that I should have anything to

offer you, but one of my men managed to catch three or four fish today,

and sold them to me at about their weight in silver. However, I have

some good wine from my own cellars, and a man who has good wine, fish,

and bread can do royally, whatever this grumbling brother of mine may

say."

Half an hour later, a soldier brought the news that the gondola was in

the water, and Francis bade adieu to his friends, and started at once.

"Row slowly and quietly," he said, as he took his seat. "Do not let

your oars make the slightest splash in the water, until we are well

across to the opposite shore. They may have a guard boat lying in the

channel."

The light craft made her way noiselessly across the water. Once or

twice they heard the sound of oars, as some Genoese galley passed up or

down, but none came near enough to perceive them, and they crossed the

main channel, and entered one of the numerous passages practicable only

for boats of very light draught, without being once hailed. A broad

shallow tract of water was now crossed, passable only by craft drawing

but a few inches of water; then again they were in a deeper channel,

and the lights of Chioggia rose but a short distance ahead.

They paused and listened, now, for they were nearing the ship channel,

and here the enemy would, if anywhere, be on the alert. Coming across

the water they could hear the sound of voices, and the dull noise made

by the movement of men in a boat.

"Those are the galleys watching the boom, I expect," Francis said.

"Now, Philippo, we can move on. I suppose there is plenty of water,

across the flats, for us to get into the channel without going near the

boom."

"Plenty for us, signor; but if the boom goes right across the channel,

heavy rowboats would not be able to pass. There are few shallower

places in the lagoons than just about here. It may be that in one or

two places even we might touch, but if we do, the bottom is firm enough

for us to get out and float the boat over."

But they did not touch any shoal sufficiently shallow to necessitate

this. Several times Francis could feel, by the dragging pace, that she

was touching the oozy bottom; but each time she passed over without

coming to a standstill. At last Philippo said:

"We are in the deep channel now, signor. The boom is right astern of

us. The town is only a few hundred yards ahead."

"Then we shall be passing the Genoese galleys, directly," Francis said.

"Row slowly as we go, and splash sometimes with the oars. If we go

quickly and noiselessly past, they might possibly suspect something,

but if we row without an attempt at concealment, they will take us for

a fisherman's boat."

Soon the dark mass of Genoese ships, with their forests of masts, rose

before them. There were lights in the cabins, and a buzz of talking,

laughing, and singing among the crews on board.

"What luck today?" a sailor asked them as they rowed past, twenty or

thirty yards from the side of one of the ships.

"Very poor," Giuseppi replied. "I think your ships, and the boats lying

about, and the firing, have frightened the fish away from this end of

the lagoons."

It was half a mile before they passed the last of the crowd of vessels.

"Would you like me to land here, signor?" Philippo said. "There would

be no danger in my doing so. I can make my way, through the streets, to

the house of some of my relatives, and find out from them whether there

are any fresh movements among the Genoese. I will not enter any house;

for aught I know there are soldiers quartered everywhere; but I am sure

not to go many yards before I run against someone I know."

"I think it will be a very good plan, Philippo. We will lie under the

bank here, and wait your return."

It was not more than twenty minutes before the gondolier was back.

"I have spoken to three men I know, signor. They are agreed that there

are no movements among the enemy, and no one seems to have an idea that

the Venetians are about to put to sea. Of course, I was cautious not to

let drop a word on the subject, and only said we had managed to get

through the enemy's cordon to learn the latest news, and I expected to

earn a ducat or two by my night's work."

"That is excellent," Francis said. "Now, we will row out to the sea

mouths of the channels, to assure ourselves that no ships are lying on

guard there, for some are going in or out every day to cruise along the

coast. A few may have taken up their station there, without attracting

notice among the townspeople."

The opening of the passage known as the Canal of Lombardy was first

visited. To gain this, they had to retrace their steps for some

distance, and to row through the town of Chioggia, passing several

boats and galleys, but without attracting notice. They found the mouth

of the canal entirely unguarded, and then returned and rowed out to the

mouth of the Brondolo passage. Some blazing fires on the shore showed

that there were parties of soldiers here, but no ships were lying

anywhere in the channel.

After some consultation they determined that, as no watch seemed to be

kept, it would be shorter to row on outside the islands, and to enter

by the third passage to be examined, that between Pelestrina and

Brondolo. Here, however, the Genoese were more on the alert, as the

Pelestrina shore was held by the Venetians. Scarcely had they entered

the channel, when a large rowboat shot out from the shadow of the shore

and hailed them.

"Stop rowing in that boat! Who are you that are entering so late?"

"Fishermen," Philippo shouted back, but without stopping rowing.

"Stop!" shouted the officer, "till we examine you! It is forbidden to

enter the channel after dark."

But the gondoliers rowed steadily on, until ahead of the boat coming

out. This fell into their wake, and its angry officer shouted threats

against the fugitives, and exhorted his men to row their hardest.

"There are two more boats ahead, signor. They are lying on their oars

to cut us off. One is a good deal further out than the other, and I

don't think we shall gain Pelestrina."

"Then make for the Brondolo shore till we have passed them," Francis

said.

The boat whirled off her course, and made towards the shore. The

Genoese galleys ahead at once made towards them; but in spite of the

numerous oars they pulled, the craft could not keep up with the racing

gondola, and it crossed ahead of them. In another five minutes' rowing,

the three galleys were well astern, and the gondola again made out from

the shore, her head pointing obliquely towards Pelestrina. The galleys

were now fifty yards behind, and although their crews rowed their

hardest, the gondola gradually gained upon them, and crossing their

bows made over towards Pelestrina.

"We are out of the channel now," Philippo said, "and there will not be

water enough for them to follow us much further."

A minute or two later a sudden shout proclaimed that the nearest of

their pursuers had touched the ground.

"We can take it easy now," Giuseppi said, "and I am not sorry, for we

could not have rowed harder if we had been racing."

A few minutes later, the light craft touched the mud a few yards

distant from the shore.

"Is that you, Francisco?" a voice, which Francis recognized as

Matteo's, asked.

"All right, Matteo!" he replied. "No one hurt this time."

"I have been on the lookout for you the last hour. I have got a body of

my men here, in case you were chased. We heard the shouting and guessed

it was you."

"If you have got some men there, Matteo, there is a chance for you to

take a prize. A galley rowing twelve or fourteen oars is in the mud, a

few hundred yards out. She was chasing us, and ran aground when at full

speed, and I imagine they will have some trouble in getting her off. I

suppose she draws a couple of feet of water. There! Don't you hear the

hubbub they are making?"

"I hear them," Matteo said.

"Come along, lads. The night is cold, and I don't suppose the water is

any warmer, but a skirmish will heat our blood."

Matteo, followed by a company of some forty men, at once entered the

water, and made in the direction of the sounds. Five minutes later,

Francis heard shouts and a clashing of weapons suddenly break out. It

lasted but a short time. Matteo and his band soon returned with the

prisoners.

"What! Have you waited, Francisco? I thought you would be on the other

side of the island by this time."

"I was in no particular hurry, Matteo; and besides, I want my boat; and

although two men can lift her easily enough, she would be a heavy

weight to carry so far."

"You shall have a dozen, Francisco. It is owing to you we have taken

these prisoners, and that I have had my first bit of excitement since I

came out here.

"Sergeant, here are a couple of ducats. When you have given the

prisoners into safe custody, spend the money in wine for the company.

"The water is bitterly cold, I can tell you, Francisco; but otherwise I

am warm enough, for one's feet stick to the mud, and it seems, each

step, as if one had fifty pounds of lead on one's shoes. But come along

to my brother's tent at once. Your feet must be cold, too, though the

water was only a few inches deep where you got out of your boat. A

glass of hot wine will do us both good; and it will be an hour before

your boat is in the water again. Indeed, I don't see the use of your

starting before daybreak."

"Nor do I, Matteo; but I must go, nevertheless. Pisani knows how long

it will take me to get to Chioggia and return. He will allow an hour or

two for me to reconnoitre, and will then be expecting me back. As it

is, I shall be two hours after the time when he will be expecting me,

for he knows nothing about the boat being carried across this island,

and will make no allowance for that. Moreover, Polani and his daughters

will be anxious about me."

"Oh, you flatter yourself they will be lying awake for you," Matteo

said, laughing. "Thinking over your dangers! Well, there's nothing like

having a good idea of one's self."

Francis joined in the laugh.

"It does sound rather conceited, Matteo; but I know they will be

anxious. They took up the idea it was a dangerous service I was going

on, and I have no doubt they fidgeted over it. Women are always

fancying things, you know."

"I don't know anyone who fidgets about me," Matteo said; "but then, you

see, I am not a rescuer of damsels in distress, nor have I received the

thanks of the republic for gallant actions."

"Well, you ought to have done," Francis replied. "You had just as much

to do with that fight on board Pisani's galley as I had, only it

happened I was in command.

"Oh, there is your brother's tent! I see there is a light burning, so I

suppose he has not gone to bed yet."

"All the better," Matteo said. "We shall get our hot wine all the

quicker. My teeth are chattering so, I hardly dare speak for fear of

biting my tongue."

Francis was warmly welcomed by Rufino Giustiniani.

"I need hardly ask you if you have succeeded in reconnoitring their

positions, for I know you would not come back before morning had you

not carried out your orders.

"Why, Matteo, what have you been doing--wading in the mud, apparently?

Why, you are wet up to the waist."

"We have captured an officer, and fourteen men, Rufino. They will be

here in a few minutes. Their boat got stuck fast while it was chasing

Francisco; so we waded out and took them. They made some resistance,

but beyond a few slashes, and two or three thumps from their oars, no

harm was done."

"That is right, Matteo. I am glad you have had a skirmish with them at

last. Now go in and change your things. I shall have you on my hands

with rheumatism."

"I will do that at once, and I hope you will have some hot spiced wine

ready, by the time I have changed, for I am nearly frozen."

The embers of a fire, outside the tent, were soon stirred together, and

in a few minutes the wine was prepared. In the meantime, Francis had

been telling Rufino the incidents of his trip. In half an hour, the

message came that the gondola was again in the water, and Francis was

soon on his way back to the city.

"I was beginning to be anxious about you," was Pisani's greeting, as,

upon being informed of his return, he sprang from the couch, on which

he had thrown himself for an hour's sleep, and hurried downstairs. "I

reckoned that you might have been back an hour before this, and began

to think that you must have got into some scrape. Well, what have you

discovered?"

"The Genoese have no idea that you are going to put to sea. Their ships

and galleys are, as usual, moored off the quays of Chioggia. The

entrance to the Canal of Lombardy, and the Brondolo passage, are both

quite open, and there appear to be no troops anywhere near; but between

Pelestrina and Brondolo they have rowboats watching the entrance, but

no craft of any size. There are a few troops there, but, so far as I

could judge by the number of fires, not more than two hundred men or

so."

"Your news is excellent, Francisco. I will not ask you more, now. It is

three o'clock already, and at five I must be up and doing; so get off

to bed as soon as you can. You can give me the details in the morning."

The gondola was still waiting at the steps, and in a few minutes

Francis arrived at the Palazzo Polani. A servant was sleeping on a

bench in the hall. He started up as Francis entered.

"I have orders to let my master know, as soon as you return, signor."

"You can tell him, at the same time, that I have returned without hurt,

and pray him not to disturb himself, as I can tell him what has taken

place in the morning."

Polani, however, at once came to Francis' room.

"Thank Heaven you have returned safe to us, my boy!" he said. "I have

just knocked at the girls' doors, to tell them of your return, and, by

the quickness with which they answered, I am sure that they, like

myself, have had no sleep. Have you succeeded in your mission?"

"Perfectly, signor. I have been to Chioggia itself, and to the

entrances of the three passages, and have discovered that none of them

are guarded by any force that could resist us."

"But how did you manage to pass through their galleys?"

"I landed on this side of Pelestrina, and had the gondola carried

across, and launched in the channel inside their cordon; and it was not

until we entered the last passage--that by Brondolo--that we were

noticed. Then there was a sharp chase for a bit, but we outstripped

them, and got safely across to Pelestrina. One of the galleys, in the

excitement of the chase, ran fast into the mud; and Matteo, with some

of his men, waded out and captured the officer and crew. So there is

every prospect of our succeeding tomorrow."

"All that is good," Polani said; "but to me, just at present, I own

that the principal thing is that you have got safely back. Now I will

not keep you from your bed, for I suppose that you will not be able to

lie late in the morning."

Francis certainly did not intend to do so, but the sun was high before

he woke. He hurriedly dressed, and went downstairs.

"I have seen the admiral," Polani said as he entered, "and told him

that you were sound asleep, and I did not intend to wake you, for that

you were looking worn and knocked up. He said: 'Quite right! The lad is

so willing and active, that I forget sometimes that he is not an old

sea dog like myself, accustomed to sleep with one eye open, and to go

without sleep altogether for days if necessary.' So you need not hurry

over your breakfast. The girls are dying to hear your adventures."

As he took his breakfast, Francis gave the girls an account of his

expedition.

"And so, you saw Rufino!" Maria said. "Did he inquire after me? You

told him, I hope, that I was fading away rapidly from grief at his

absence."

"I did not venture upon so flagrant an untruth as that," Francis

replied.

"Is he very uncomfortable?"

"Not very, signora. He has a good tent, some excellent wine, an

allowance of bread, which might be larger, and occasionally fish. As he

has also the gift of excellent spirits, I do not think he is greatly to

be pitied--except, of course, for his absence from you."

"That, of course," Maria said. "When he does come here, he always tells

me a moving tale of his privations, in hopes of exciting pity; but,

unfortunately, I cannot help laughing at his tales of hardship. But we

were really anxious about you last night, Francisco, and very thankful

when we heard you had returned.

"Weren't we, Giulia?"

Giulia nodded.

"Giulia hasn't much to say when you are here, Francisco, but she can

chatter about you fast enough when we are alone."

"How can you say so, Maria?" Giulia said reproachfully.

"Well, my dear, there is no harm in that. For aught he knows, you may

be saying the most unkind things about him, all the time."

"I am sure he knows that I should not do that," Giulia said

indignantly.

"By the way, do you know, Francisco, that all Venice is in a state of

excitement! A proclamation has been issued by the doge, this morning,

that all should be in their galleys and at their posts at noon, under

pain of death. So everyone knows that something is about to be done, at

last."

"Then it is time for me to be off," Francis said, rising hastily, "for

it is ten o'clock already."

"Take your time, my lad," the merchant said. "There is no hurry, for

Pisani told me, privately, that they should not sail until after dark."

It was not, indeed, until nearly eight o'clock in the evening, that the

expedition started. At the hour of vespers, the doge, Pisani, and the

other leaders of the expedition, attended mass in the church of Saint

Mark, and then proceeded to their galleys, where all was now in

readiness.

Pisani led the first division, which consisted of fourteen galleys. The

doge, assisted by Cavalli, commanded in the centre; and Corbaro brought

up the rear, with ten large ships. The night was beautifully bright and

calm, a light and favourable breeze was blowing, and all Venice

assembled to see the departure of the fleet.

Just after it passed through the passage of the Lido, a thick mist came

on. Pisani stamped up and down the deck impatiently.

"If this goes on, it will ruin us," he said. "Instead of arriving in

proper order at the mouth of the passages, and occupying them before

the Genoese wake up to a sense of their danger, we shall get there one

by one, they will take the alarm, and we shall have their whole fleet

to deal with. It will be simply ruin to our scheme."

Fortunately, however, the fog speedily lifted. The vessels closed up

together, and, in two hours after starting, arrived off the entrances

to the channels. Pisani anchored until daylight appeared, and nearly

five thousand men were then landed on the Brondolo's shore, easily

driving back the small detachment placed there. But the alarm was soon

given, and the Genoese poured out in such overwhelming force that the

Venetians were driven in disorder to their boats, leaving behind them

six hundred killed, drowned, or prisoners.

But Pisani had not supposed that he would be able to hold his position

in front of the whole Genoese force, and he had succeeded in his main

object. While the fighting had been going on on shore, a party of

sailors had managed to moor a great ship, laden with stones, across the

channel. As soon as the Genoese had driven the Venetians to their

boats, they took possession of this vessel, and, finding that she was

aground, they set her on fire, thus unconsciously aiding Pisani's

object, for when she had burned to the water's edge she sank.

Barberigo, with his light galleys, now arrived upon the spot, and

emptied their loads of stone into the passage around the wreck. The

Genoese kept up a heavy fire with their artillery, many of the galleys

were sunk, and numbers of the Venetians drowned, or killed by the shot.

Nevertheless, they worked on unflinchingly. As soon as the pile of

stones had risen sufficiently for the men to stand upon them, waist

deep, they took their places upon it, and packed in order the stones

that their comrades handed them, and fixed heavy chains binding the

whole together.

The work was terribly severe. The cold was bitter. The men were badly

fed, and most of them altogether unaccustomed to hardships. In addition

to the fire from the enemy's guns, they were exposed to a rain of

arrows, and at the end of two days and nights they were utterly worn

out and exhausted, and protested that they could do no more. Pisani,

who had himself laboured among them in the thickest of the danger,

strove to keep up their spirits by pointing out the importance of their

work, and requested the doge to swear on his sword that, old as he was,

he would never return to Venice unless Chioggia was conquered.

The doge took the oath, and for the moment the murmuring ceased; and,

on the night of the 24th, the channel of Chioggia was entirely choked

from shore to shore. On that day, Corbaro succeeded in sinking two

hulks in the passage of Brondolo. Doria, who had hitherto believed that

the Venetians would attempt nothing serious, now perceived for the

first time the object of Pisani, and despatched fourteen great galleys

to crush Corbaro, who had with him but four vessels. Pisani at once

sailed to his assistance, with ten more ships, and the passage was now

so narrow that the Genoese did not venture to attack, and Corbaro

completed the operation of blocking up the Brondolo passage. The next

day the Canal of Lombardy was similarly blocked; and thus, on the

fourth day after leaving Venice, Pisani had accomplished his object,

and had shut out the Genoese galleys from the sea.

But the work had been terrible, and the losses great. The soldiers were

on half rations. The cold was piercing. They were engaged night and day

with the enemy, and were continually wet through, and the labour was

tremendous.

A fort had already been begun on the southern shore of the port of

Brondolo, facing the convent, which Doria had transformed into a

citadel. The new work was christened the Lova, and the heaviest guns in

the Venetian arsenal were planted there. One of these, named the

Trevisan, discharged stones of a hundred and ninety-five pounds in

weight, and the Victory was little smaller. But the science of

artillery was then in its youth, and these guns could only be

discharged once in twenty-four hours.

But, on the 29th, the Venetians could do no more, and officers,

soldiers, and sailors united in the demand that they should return to

Venice. Even Pisani felt that the enterprise was beyond him, and that

his men, exhausted by cold, hunger, and their incessant exertions,

could no longer resist the overwhelming odds brought against him.

Still, he maintained a brave front, and once again his cheery words,

and unfeigned good temper, and the example set them by the aged doge,

had their effect; but the soldiers required a pledge that, if Zeno

should not be signalled in sight by New Year's Day, he would raise the

siege. If Pisani and the doge would pledge themselves to this, the

people agreed to maintain the struggle for the intervening forty-eight

hours.

The pledge was given, and the fight continued. Thus, the fate of Venice

hung in the balance. If Zeno arrived, not only would she be saved, but

she had it in her power to inflict upon Genoa a terrible blow. Should

Zeno still tarry, not only would the siege be raised, and the Genoese

be at liberty to remove the dams which the Venetians had placed, at

such a cost of suffering and blood; but there would be nothing left for

Venice but to accept the terms, however onerous, her triumphant foes

might dictate, terms which would certainly strip her of all her

possessions, and probably involve even her independence.

Never, from her first foundation, had Venice been in such terrible

risk. Her very existence trembled in the balance. The 30th passed as

the days preceding it. There was but little fighting, for the Genoese

knew how terrible were the straits to which Venice was reduced, and

learned, from the prisoners they had taken, that in a few days, at the

outside, the army besieging them would cease to exist.

At daybreak, on the 31st, men ascended the masts of the ships, and

gazed over the sea, in hopes of making out the long-expected sails. But

the sea was bare. It was terrible to see the faces of the Venetians,

gaunt with famine, broken down by cold and fatigue. Even the most

enduring began to despair.

Men spoke no more of Zeno. He had been away for months. Was it likely

that he would come just at this moment? They talked rather of their

homes. The next day they would return. If they must die, they would die

with those they loved, in Venice. They should not mind that. And so the

day went on, and as they lay down at night, hungry and cold, they

thanked God that it was their last day. Whatever might come would be

better than this.

Men were at the mastheads again, before daylight, on the 1st of

January. Then, as the first streak of dawn broke, the cry went from

masthead to masthead:

"There are ships out at sea!"

The cry was heard on shore. Pisani jumped into a boat with Francis,

rowed out to his ship, and climbed the mast.

"Yes, there are ships!" he said. And then, after a pause: "Fifteen of

them! Who are they? God grant it be Zeno!"

This was the question everyone on ship and on shore was asking himself,

for it was known that the Genoese, too, were expecting reinforcements.

"The wind is scarce strong enough to move them through the water,"

Pisani said. "Let some light boats go off to reconnoitre. Let us know

the best or the worst. If it be Zeno, Venice is saved! If it be the

Genoese, I, and those who agree with me that it is better to die

fighting, than to perish of hunger, will go out and attack them."

In a few minutes, several fast galleys started for the fleet, which was

still so far away that the vessels could scarcely be made out, still

less their rig and nationality. It would be some time before the boats

would return with the news, and Pisani went ashore, and, with the doge,

moved among the men, exhorting them to be steadfast, above all things

not to give way to panic, should the newcomers prove to be enemies.

"If all is done in order," he said, "they cannot interfere with our

retreat to Venice. They do not know how weak we are, and will not

venture to attack so large a fleet. Therefore, when the signal is made

that they are Genoese, we will fall back in good order to our boats,

and take to our ships, and then either return to Venice, or sail out

and give battle, as it may be decided."

The boats, before starting, had been told to hoist white flags should

the galleys be Venetian, but to show no signal if they were Genoese.

The boats were watched, from the mastheads, until they became specks in

the distance. An hour afterwards, the lookout signalled to those on

shore that they were returning.

"Go off again, Francisco. I must remain here to keep up the men's

hearts, if the news be bad. Take your stand on the poop of my ship, and

the moment the lookouts can say, with certainty, whether the boats

carry a white flag or not, hoist the Lion of Saint Mark to the

masthead, if it be Zeno. If not, run up a blue flag!"

The Lion of Saint Mark: A Story of Venice in the Fourteenth Century · 第 19 / 20 章