THE MIRACLE
was soon threading its way among the craft in the lagoon. There was a soft, warm breeze, and the moving, glittering water was spangled with golden sun-flecks. The gondola neared the water-front, and drifted slowly past the Piazzetta, whose marble steps were washed by the ever-present sea. There a whole flotilla of gondolas was moored, while others flashed about the bay and disappeared into the openings of countless canals.
Fen did not know on which side to look. Following the sweep of Siddereticus' arm, he saw the Ducal Palace, with its serried rows of beautiful arches, and before it the winged Lion of St. Mark's, looking down from his towering pedestal upon the crowded Piazzetta. Behind, there was a glimpse of San Marco itself—a bewildering ecstasy of carven porches and gleaming pillars, with statued saints
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