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"A very little," replied Renzo, and he continued to row with a

vigour and skill beyond that of a mere amateur in the art. With

all his efforts, however, the bark moved slowly; the current,

setting strong against it, drove it continually from the line of

its direction, and impeded the rapidity of its course. New

perplexities presented themselves to the mind of Renzo; now that

the Adda was almost passed, he began to fear that it might not,

at this place, serve for the boundary between the states, and

that, this obstacle surmounted, there would yet be others

remaining. He spoke to the fisherman, and pointing to the white

spot he had noticed the night before, and which was now much more

distinct, "Is that Bergamo?" said he.

"The city of Bergamo," replied the fisherman.

"And the other shore, does it belong to Bergamo?"

"It is the territory of St. Mark."

"Long live St. Mark!" cried Renzo. The fisherman made no reply.