houses, believing themselves in safety, espoused different sides, and
threw stones and bricks at each other, and at those standing below. In
an incredibly short time houses were entirely unroofed, and a perfect
storm of tiles rained upon the quays and streets. Those who had first
fled, when they attained what appeared a safe distance, halted to look
on, and thus prevented others from getting away. Antonio was amongst
the number whose escape was thus impeded. His gondolier lay at the
bottom of the boat, stunned by a blow from a stone; he himself was
bruised and wounded by the missiles that fell in all directions.

The tumult was at its height when suddenly a sound was heard that had
a truly magical effect upon the rioters, for such they might now be
termed. The alarm-bell of St Mark's rang out its awful peal. In an
instant the yells of defiance were hushed; the arm that was already
drawn back to deal a blow fell harmless by its owner's side, the storm
of missiles ceased, the contending factions parted, and left the
combat undecided. The habit of obedience and the intimation of some
danger to the city, stilled in an instant the rage of party feeling,
and combatants and spectators alike hurried away in the direction of
St Mark's place, the usual point of rendezvous on such occasions.

Jacopo had now recovered his senses, and Antonio's gondola was one of
the first which reached the square in front of the cathedral. Thence
the young painter at once discovered the cause of the alarm. Smoke and
flame were issuing from some buildings on the opposite island of San
Giorgio Maggiore, where the greater part of the merchants' warehouses
were situated. Thither the crowd of gondolas now steered, and Antonio
found himself carried along with the stream. But although the fire was
already beginning to subside before the prompt measures taken to
subdue it, the alarm-bell kept clanging on; and Antonio soon perceived