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 crumbling wall, flowering vines festooned themselves, reaching their bright blossoms toward the dark waters.

All afternoon the gondola glided almost noiselessly through the tortuous windings of obscure canals, under silent bridges, and between forgotten palaces that had long ago outlived their glory.

Fen lay very still, his hand in that of Siddereticus. He said little, but now and then he looked up for an instant into the face above him, and they understood each other, without words.

The sunset light began to reach through every opening in the canal and to lay ruddy fingers here and there upon the waters. The gondola had reached a spot where the canal widened a little and a tall mooring-post rose slanting from the water. At a word from Siddereticus the gondolier brought his boat up beside the post and made it fast. Fen looked rather