The rites had begun, and the brides were on the point of being handed over to their future husbands, when the doors were flung open and the Church was filled with armed and yelling men, who dragged the girls from the altars, flung them into their boats, and sped away for Trieste. The Doge was the first to grapple with the situation and rushed out, accompanied by the maddened bridegrooms, and called every one within hearing distance to arms. Some boats belonging to the Trunk Makers of Santa Maria Formosa being near by, the Doge and his companions jumped in, seized the oars, and pulled with frenzied energy for the lagoon of Caorla, where the rapers still were. Thanks to their knowledge of their own waterways, they caught their enemies in a creek, now called the Porto delle Donzelle (the gate of the damsels) and, with ferocious delight, set upon them. The fight was a prolonged and bloody affair, but the outraged lovers avenged themselves very completely, by all accounts, for hardly a corsair escaped, and the girls were carried back to Olivolo, when the interrupted rites were completed and the tide of enjoyment allowed to rise to unusual heights in the feasting that followed. In later years, to commemorate the incident, twelve young girls used to pay a visit in the company of the Doge to the Trunk Makers of Santa Maria Formosa on that date. It is said that the custom was originated by the Trunk Makers themselves, who requested the Doge to make the visit and even went so far as to offer the latter a new hat, in case of rain, which often resulted in another custom, that of supplying the Prince on these occasions with two hats and two bottles of wine. There are several legends of St. Mark extant, but perhaps the most interesting of them is one dating from a flood to which Venice was subjected, owing to a gigantic tidal disturbance in 1340. It was on the 15th of February that the storm was at its worst, and by nightfall the dry land was almost submerged beneath the raging waters. A solitary sailor, hugging his cloak to himself, was standing in the windy downpour, as evening fell, on the Piazzetta of St. Mark’s, when he heard himself addressed by name and, turning, saw beside him a tall and venerable person, who spake in a tone of calm authority: “I am St. Mark the Evangelist. Take me over to San Giorgio!” The man hardly dared to move, but awe getting the better of fear, he obeyed, and ferried the saint to San Giorgio, where, waiting for them apparently, stood a stout looking personage, whom the terrified ferryman presently learnt to be St. George. As soon as the latter was on board, the Evangelist directed the sailor to proceed to the Lido, where a third traveller was added to the party, in the person of St. Nicholas.