Chapter 20: The Triumph Of Venice. 

Francis rowed off to the ship, got the flags in readiness for hoisting, and stood with the lines in his hand. 

"Can you make them out, yet?" he hailed the men at the mastheads. 

"They are mere specks yet, signor," the man at the foremast said. 

The other did not reply at once, but presently he shouted down: 

"Far as they are away, signor, I am almost sure that one or two of them, at least, have something white flying." 

There was a murmur of joy from the men on the deck, for Jacopo Zippo was famous for his keenness of sight. 

"Silence, men!" Francis said. "Do not let a man shout, or wave his cap, till we are absolutely certain. Remember the agony with which those on shore are watching us, and the awful disappointment it would be, were their hopes raised only to be crushed, afterwards." 

Another ten minutes, and Jacopo slid rapidly down by the stays, and stood on the deck with bared head. 

"God be praised, signor! I have no longer a doubt. I can tell you, for certain, that white flags are flying from these boats." 

"God be praised!" Francis replied. 

"Now, up with the Lion!" 

The flag was bent to the halyards and Francis hoisted it. As it rose above the bulwark, Pisani, who was standing on a hillock of sand, shouted out at the top of his voice: 

"It is Zeno's fleet!" 

A shout of joy broke from the troops. Cheer after cheer rent the air, from ship and shore, and then the wildest excitement reigned. Some fell on their knees, to thank God for the rescue thus sent when all seemed lost. Others stood with clasped hands, and streaming eyes, looking towards heaven. Some danced and shouted. Some wept with joy. Men fell on to each other's necks, and embraced. Some threw up their caps. All were wild with joy, and pent-up excitement. 
What did he do?
and stood on the deck with bared head