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are no more than so
many small natural branches of the sea. On the margin of these passages,
the walls of the dwellings arise literally from out of the water, since
economy of room has caused their owners to extend their possessions to
the very verge of the channel, in the manner that quays and wharfs are
pushed into the streams in our own country. In many instances the
islands themselves were no more than banks, which were periodically
bare, and on all, the use of piles has been necessary to support the
superincumbent loads of palaces, churches, and public monuments, under
which, in the course of ages, the humble spits of sand have been made
to groan.
    The great frequency of the canals, and perhaps some attention to economy
of labor, has given to by far the greater part of the buildings the
facility of an approach by water. But, while nearly every dwelling has
one of its fronts on a canal, there are always communications by the
rear with the interior passages of the town. It is a fault in most
descriptions, that while the stranger hears so much of the canals of
Venice, but little is said of her streets: still, narrow, paved,
commodious, and noiseless passages of this description, intersect all
the islands, which communicate with each other by means of a countless
number of bridges. Though the hoof of a horse or the rumbling of a wheel
is never heard in these strait avenues, they are of great resort for all
the purposes of ordinary intercourse.
    Gino issued into one of these thoroughfares when he quitted the private
passage which communicated with the palace of his master. He threaded
the throng by which it was crowded, with a dexterity that resembled the
windings of an eel among the weeds of the Lagunes. To the numerous
greetings of his fellows, he replied only by nods; nor did he once
arrest his footsteps, until they had led him through the door of a low
and dark dwelling that stood in a quarter of the place which was
inhabited by people of an inferior condition. Groping his way among
casks, cordage, and rubbish of all descriptions, the gondolier succeeded
in finding an inner and retired door that opened into a small room,
whose only light came from a species of well that descended between the
walls of the adjacent houses and that in which he was.
    "Blessed St. Anne! Is it thou, Gino Monaldi!" exclaimed a smart Venetian
grisette, whose tone and manner betrayed as much of coquetry as of
surprise. "On foot, and by the secret door! Is this an hour to come on
any of thy errands?"
    "Truly, Annina, it is not the season for affairs with thy father, and
it is something early for a visit to thee. But there is less time for
words than for action, just now. For the sake of San Teodoro, and that
of a constant and silly young man, who, if not thy slave, is at least
thy dog, bring forth the jacket I wore when we went together to see the
merry-making at Fusina."
    "I know nothing of thy errand, Gino, nor of thy reason for wishing to
change thy master's livery for the dress of a common boatman. Thou art
far more comely with those silken flowers than in this faded velveteen;
and if I have ever said aught in commendation of its appearance, it was
because we were bent on merry-making, and being one of the party, it
would have been churlish to have withheld a word of praise to a
companion, who, as thou knowest, does not dislike a civil speech in his
own praise."
    "Zitto, zitto! here is no merry-making and companions, but a matter of
gravity, and one that must be performed offhand. The jacket, if thou
lovest me!"
    Annina, who had not neglected essentials while she moralized on motives,
threw the garment on a stool that stood within reach of the gondolier's
hand, as he made this strong appeal in a way to show that she was not to
be surprised out of a confession of this sort, even in the most
unguarded moment.
    "If I love thee, truly! Thou hast the jacket, Gino, and thou mayest
search in its pockets for an answer to thy letter, which I do not