CHAPTER II.
SIGNOR DEODATI.
On that day the Scheldt presented at Antwerp a striking spectacle.

Many ships which had been detained in the North Sea by the east wind were approaching the city, with their various colored flags floating on the breeze, while, far as the eye could reach, the broad expanse of water was covered with sails, and still, in the dim horizon, mast after mast seemed to arise from the waves as harbingers of an immense flotilla.
The sailors displayed gigantic strength in casting anchor and manoeuvring their vessels so as to obtain an advantageous position.

The crews of the different ships vied with each other, and exerted themselves so energetically that the heavily laden crafts trembled under the strained cables.

From each arose a song wild and harsh as the sharp creaking of the capstan, but joyous as the triumphant shout of a victorious army.

These chants, sung in every tongue of the commercial world by robust sailors, seemed, as they were wafted over the river to the city, like the long, loud acclamations of a vast multitude.
The only sounds which could be heard in the midst of these confused cries were the voices of the captains speaking through the trumpets; and when a Portuguese gallion, coming from the West Indies, appeared before the city, a salvo of cannon rose like the rolling of thunder above all other sounds.
The sun shone brightly upon this animated scene of human activity, and broke and sparkled in colored light up in the rippling waves of the broad river.
Hundreds of flags floated in the air; gondolas and longboats furrowed the waters; from boat and wharf joyous greetings of friends mingled with the song of the sailors.