Fools' Gold Read Online Free PDF Page B

big house stood behind high stone walls, so that the travellers could just see the tops of the leafless wintry trees and hear the birdsong from the gardens.
    ‘This is the Grand Canal now,’ the boatman said as the boat went slowly up the wide, sinuous stretch of water. ‘Like the main road, like the biggest high street of the city. The biggest high street in the world.’
    The bigger houses were built directly onto the canal, some of them with great front doors that opened straight onto the water, some of them had a gate at the front of the house to allow a boat to float directly into the house as if the river were a welcome guest.
    As Isolde watched, one of these water doors opened and a gondola came out, sleek as a black fish, with the brightly dressed gondolier standing in the stern and rowing with his single oar as the gentleman sat in the middle of the boat, a black cape around his shoulders and an embroidered hat on his head, his face hidden by a beautifully decorated mask which revealed only his smiling mouth.
    ‘Oh! Look!’ she exclaimed. ‘What a beautiful little boat, and see how it came out of the house?’
    ‘Called a gondola,’ the boatman explained. ‘The Venetians have them like land dwellers have a litter or a cart to get about. Every big house has a watergate so that their gondola can come and go.’
    Isolde could not take her eyes from the beautiful craft, and the gentleman nodded his head and raised a gloved hand to her as he swept by.
    ‘Carnival,’ Brother Peter said quietly as he saw the magnificently coloured waistcoat under the gentleman’s dark cape and the brilliantly coloured mask that covered his face. ‘We could not have come to the city at a worse time.’
    ‘What’s so bad about the carnival?’ Ishraq asked curiously, looking after the black gondola and the handsome masked man.
    ‘It is twenty days of indulgence and sin before Lent,’ Brother Peter replied. ‘ Carnevale as they call it, is a byword for the worst behaviour. If we were enquiring into sin we would have nothing to do but to point at every passer-by. The city is famous for vice. We will have to stay indoors as much as possible, and avoid the endless drinking and promenading and dancing. And worse.’
    ‘But what a grand house!’ Isolde exclaimed. ‘Like a palace! Did you see inside? The stone stairs coming down to his own private quay? And the torches inside the building?’
    ‘Look!’ Ishraq pointed ahead of them. There were more houses directly on the water’s edge, most of them standing on little islands completely surrounded by water, the islands connected with thin, arching wooden bridges. On the left side the travellers could see the spires of churches beyond the waterfront houses, and at every second or third house they could see a narrow dark canal winding its way deeper into the heart of the city, and smaller canals branching from it, each one crowded with gondolas and working boats, every quay busy with people, half of them dressed in fantastic costumes, the women tottering on impossibly high shoes, some of them so tall that they had a maidservant to walk beside them for support.
    ‘What are they wearing on their feet? They’re like stilts!’ Ishraq exclaimed.
    ‘They are called chopines,’ Brother Peter said. ‘They keep the ladies’ gowns and feet clear of the water when the streets are flooded.’ He looked consideringly at the women, who could not stand unsupported but looked magnificent, tall as giantesses, in their beautiful billowing long gowns. ‘The Holy Church approves of them,’ he said.
    ‘I would have thought you would have called them a ridiculous vanity?’ Ishraq asked curiously.
    ‘Since they prevent dancing, and women cannot walk about on their own while wearing them, they are a great discouragement to sin,’ Brother Peter replied. ‘That’s a great advantage.’
    ‘It is as everyone said, the city is built on the water,’ Isolde said wonderingly. ‘The houses