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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Marietta, by F. Marion Crawford
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Marietta
+       A Maid of Venice
+
+
+Author: F. Marion Crawford
+
+
+
+Release Date: June 21, 2005  [eBook #16100]
+[Most recently updated: December 22, 2005]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARIETTA***
+
+
+E-text prepared by John Hagerson, Kevin Handy, Chuck Greif, and the
+Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+(https://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+The Novels of F. Marion Crawford
+In Twenty-five Volumes--Authorized Edition
+
+MARIETTA
+
+A Maid of Venice
+
+by
+
+F. MARION CRAWFORD
+
+With Frontispiece
+
+P. F. Collier & Son
+New York
+
+1901
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "I AM NOT ASLEEP."--_Marietta: A Maid of Venice_.]
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+Very little was known about George, the Dalmatian, and the servants in
+the house of Angelo Beroviero, as well as the workmen of the latter's
+glass furnace, called him Zorzi, distrusted him, suggested that he was
+probably a heretic, and did not hide their suspicion that he was in love
+with the master's only daughter, Marietta. All these matters were
+against him, and people wondered why old Angelo kept the waif in his
+service, since he would have engaged any one out of a hundred young
+fellows of Murano, all belonging to the almost noble caste of the
+glass-workers, all good Christians, all trustworthy, and all ready to
+promise that the lovely Marietta should never make the slightest
+impression upon their respectfully petrified hearts. But Angelo had not
+been accustomed to consider what his neighbours might think of him or
+his doings, and most of his neighbours and friends abstained with
+singular unanimity from thrusting their opinions upon him. For this,
+there were three reasons: he was very rich, he was the greatest living
+artist in working glass, and he was of a choleric temper. He confessed
+the latter fault with great humility to the curate of San Piero each
+year in Lent, but he would never admit it to any one else. Indeed, if
+any of his family ever suggested that he was somewhat hasty, he flew
+into such an ungovernable rage in proving the contrary that it was
+scarcely wise to stay in the house while the fit lasted. Marietta alone
+was safe. As for her brothers, though the elder was nearly forty years
+old, it was not long since his father had given him a box on the ears
+which made him see simultaneously all the colours of all the glasses
+ever made in Murano before or since. It is true that Giovanni had
+timidly asked to be told one of the secrets for making fine red glass
+which old Angelo had learned long ago from old Paolo Godi of Pergola,
+the famous chemist; and these secrets were all carefully written out in
+the elaborate character of the late fifteenth century, and Angelo kept
+the manuscript in an iron box, under his own bed, and wore the key on a
+small silver chain at his neck.
+
+He was a big old man, with fiery brown eyes, large features, and a very
+pale skin. His thick hair and short beard had once been red, and streaks
+of the strong colour still ran through the faded locks. His hands were
+large, but very skilful, and the long straight fingers were discoloured
+by contact with the substances he used in his experiments.
+
+He was jealous by nature, rather than suspicious. He had been jealous of
+his wife while she had lived, though a more devoted woman never fell to
+the lot of a lucky husband. Often, for weeks together, he had locked
+the door upon her and taken the key with him every morning when he left
+the house, though his furnaces were almost exactly opposite, on the
+other side of the narrow canal, so that by coming to the door he could
+have spoken with her at her window. But instead of doing this he used to
+look through a little grated opening which he had caused to be made in
+the wall of the glass-house; and when his wife was seated at her window,
+at her embroidery, he could watch her unseen, for she was beautiful and
+he loved her. One day he saw a stranger standing by the water's edge,
+gazing at her, and he went out and threw the man into the canal. When
+she died, he said little, but he would not allow his own children to
+speak of her before him. After that, he became almost as jealous of his
+daughter, and though he did not lock her up like her mother, he used to
+take her with him to the glass-house when the weather was not too hot,
+so that she should not be out of his sight all day.
+
+Moreover, because he needed a man to help him, and because he was afraid
+lest one of his own caste should fall in love with Marietta, he took
+Zorzi, the Dalmatian waif, into his service; and the three were often
+together all day in the room where Angelo had set up a little furnace
+for making experiments. In the year 1470 it was not lawful in Murano to
+teach any foreign person the art of glass-making; for the glass-blowers
+were a sort of nobility, and nearly a hundred years had passed since the
+Council had declared that patricians of Venice might marry the
+daughters of glass-workers without affecting their own rank or that of
+their children. But old Beroviero declared that he was not teaching
+Zorzi anything, that the young fellow was his servant and not his
+apprentice, and did nothing but keep up the fire in the furnace, and
+fetch and carry, grind materials, and sweep the floor. It was quite true
+that Zorzi did all these things, and he did them with a silent
+regularity that made him indispensable to his master, who scarcely
+noticed the growing skill with which the young man helped him at every
+turn, till he could be entrusted to perform the most delicate operations
+in glass-working without any especial instructions. Intent upon artistic
+matters, the old man was hardly aware, either, that Marietta had learned
+much of his art; or if he realised the fact he felt a sort of jealous
+satisfaction in the thought that she liked to be shut up with him for
+hours at a time, quite out of sight of the world and altogether out of
+harm's way. He fancied that she grew more like him from day to day, and
+he flattered himself that he understood her. She and Zorzi were the only
+beings in his world who never irritated him, now that he had them always
+under his eye and command. It was natural that he should suppose himself
+to be profoundly acquainted with their two natures, though he had never
+taken the smallest pains to test this imaginary knowledge. Possibly, in
+their different ways, they knew him better than he knew them.
+
+The glass-house was guarded from outsiders as carefully as a nunnery,
+and somewhat resembled a convent in having no windows so situated that
+curious persons might see from without what went on inside. The place
+was entered by a low door from the narrow paved path that ran along the
+canal. In a little vestibule, ill-lighted by one small grated window,
+sat the porter, an uncouth old man who rarely answered questions, and
+never opened the door until he had assured himself by a deliberate
+inspection through the grating that the person who knocked had a right
+to come in. Marietta remembered him in his den when she had been a
+little child, and she vaguely supposed that he had always been there. He
+had been old then, he was not visibly older now, he would probably never
+die of old age, and if any mortal ill should carry him off, he would
+surely be replaced by some one exactly like him, who would sleep in the
+same box bed, sit all day in the same black chair, and eat bread,
+shellfish and garlic off the same worm-eaten table. There was no other
+entrance to the glass-house, and there could be no other porter to guard
+it.
+
+Beyond the vestibule a dark corridor led to a small garden that formed
+the court of the building, and on one side of which were the large
+windows that lighted the main furnace room, while the other side
+contained the laboratory of the master. But the main furnace was entered
+from the corridor, so that the workmen never passed through the garden.
+There were a few shrubs in it, two or three rose-bushes and a small
+plane-tree. Zorzi, who had been born and brought up in the country, had
+made a couple of flower-beds, edged with refuse fragments of coloured
+and iridescent slag, and he had planted such common flowers as he could
+make grow in such a place, watering them from a disused rain-water
+cistern that was supposed to have been poisoned long ago. Here Marietta
+often sat in the shade, when the laboratory was too close and hot, and
+when the time was at hand during which even the men would not be able to
+work on account of the heat, and the furnace would be put out and
+repaired, and every one would be set to making the delicate clay pots in
+which the glass was to be melted. Marietta could sit silent and
+motionless in her seat under the plane-tree for a long time when she was
+thinking, and she never told any one her thoughts.
+
+
+She was not unlike her father in looks, and that was doubtless the
+reason why he assumed that she must be like him in character. No one
+would have said that she was handsome, but sometimes, when she smiled,
+those who saw that rare expression in her face thought she was
+beautiful. When it was gone, they said she was cold. Fortunately, her
+hair was not red, as her father's had been or she might sometimes have
+seemed positively ugly; it was of that deep ruddy, golden brown that one
+may often see in Venice still, and there was an abundance of it, though
+it was drawn straight back from her white forehead and braided into the
+smallest possible space, in the fashion of that time. There was often a
+little colour in her face, though never much, and it was faint, yet
+very fresh, like the tint within certain delicate shells; her lips were
+of the same hue, but stronger and brighter, and they were very well
+shaped and generally closed, like her father's. But her eyes were not
+like his, and the lids and lashes shaded them in such a way that it was
+hard to guess their colour, and they had an inscrutable, reserved look
+that was hard to meet for many seconds. Zorzi believed that they were
+grey, but when he saw them in his dreams they were violet; and one day
+she opened them wide for an instant, at something old Beroviero said to
+her, and then Zorzi fancied that they were like sapphires, but before he
+could be sure, the lids and lashes shaded them again, and he only knew
+that they were there, and longed to see them, for her father had spoken
+of her marriage, and she had not answered a single word.
+
+When they were alone together for a moment, while the old man was
+searching for more materials in the next room, she spoke to Zorzi.
+
+"My father did not mean you to hear that," she said.
+
+"Nevertheless, I heard," answered Zorzi, pushing a small piece of beech
+wood into the fire through a narrow slit on one side of the brick
+furnace. "It was not my fault."
+
+"Forget that you heard it," said Marietta quietly, and as her father
+entered the room again she passed him and went out into the garden.
+
+But Zorzi did not even try to forget the name of the man whom Beroviero
+appeared to have chosen for his daughter. He tried instead, to
+understand why Marietta wished him not to remember that the name was
+Jacopo Contarini. He glanced sideways at the girl's figure as she
+disappeared through the door, and he thoughtfully pushed another piece
+of wood into the fire. Some day, perhaps before long, she would marry
+this man who had been mentioned, and then Zorzi would be alone with old
+Beroviero in the laboratory. He set his teeth, and poked the fire with,
+an iron rod.
+
+It happened now and then that Marietta did not come to the glass-house.
+Those days were long, and when night came Zorzi felt as if his heart
+were turning into a hot stone in his breast, and his sight was dull, and
+he ached from his work and felt scorched by the heat of the furnace. For
+he was not very strong of limb, though he was quick with his hands and
+of a very tenacious nature, able to endure pain as well as weariness
+when he was determined to finish what he had begun. But while Marietta
+was in the laboratory, nothing could tire him nor hurt him, nor make him
+wish that the hours were less long. He thought therefore of what must
+happen to him if Jacopo Contarini took Marietta away from Murano to live
+in a palace in Venice, and he determined at least to find out what sort
+of man this might be who was to receive for his own the only woman in
+the world for whose sake it would be perfect happiness to be burned with
+slow fire. He did not mean to do Contarini any harm. Perhaps Marietta
+already loved the man, and was glad she was to marry him. No one could
+have told what she felt, even from that one flashing look she had given
+her father. Zorzi did not try to understand her yet; he only loved her,
+and she was his master's daughter, and if his master found out his
+secret it would be a very evil day for him. So he poked the fire with
+his iron rod, and set his teeth, and said nothing, while old Beroviero
+moved about the room.
+
+"Zorzi," said the master presently, "I meant you to hear what I said to
+my daughter."
+
+"I heard, sir," answered the young man, rising respectfully, and waiting
+for more.
+
+"Remember the name you heard," said Beroviero.
+
+If the matter had been any other in the world, Zorzi would have smiled
+at the master's words, because they bade him do just what Marietta had
+forbidden. The one said "forget," the other "remember." For the first
+time in his life Zorzi found it easier to obey his lady's father than
+herself. He bent his head respectfully.
+
+"I trust you, Zorzi," continued Beroviero, slowly mixing some materials
+in a little wooden trough on the table. "I trust you, because I must
+trust some one in order to have a safe means of communicating with Casa
+Contarini."
+
+Again Zorzi bent his head, but still he said nothing.
+
+"These five years you have worked with me in private," the old man went
+on, "and I know that you have not told what you have seen me do, though
+there are many who would pay you good money to know what I have been
+about."
+
+"That is true," answered Zorzi.
+
+"Yes. I therefore judge that you are one of those unusual beings whom
+God has sent into the world to be of use to their fellow-creatures
+instead of a hindrance. For you possess the power of holding your
+tongue, which I had almost believed to be extinct in the human race. I
+am going to send you on an errand to Venice, to Jacopo Cantarini. If I
+sent any one from my house, all Murano would know it to-morrow morning,
+but I wish no one here to guess where you have been."
+
+"No one shall see me," answered Zorzi. "Tell me only where I am to go."
+
+"You know Venice well by this time. You must have often passed the house
+of the Agnus Dei."
+
+"By the Baker's Bridge?"
+
+"Yes. Go there alone, to-night and ask for Messer Jacopo; and if the
+porter inquires your business, say that you have a message and a token
+from a certain Angelo. When you are admitted and are alone with Messer
+Jacopo, tell him from me to go and stand by the second pillar on the
+left in Saint Mark's, on Sunday next, an hour before noon, until he sees
+me; and within a week after that, he shall have the answer; and bid him
+be silent, if he would succeed."
+
+"Is that all, sir?"
+
+"That is all. If he gives you any message in answer, deliver it to me
+to-morrow, when my daughter is not here."
+
+"And the token?" inquired Zorzi.
+
+"This glass seal, of which he already has an impression in wax, in case
+he should doubt you."
+
+Zorzi took the little leathern bag which contained the seal. He tied a
+piece of string to it, and hung it round his neck, so that it was hidden
+in his doublet like a charm or a scapulary. Beroviero watched him and
+nodded in approval.
+
+"Do not start before it is quite dark," he said. "Take the little skiff.
+The water will be high two hours before midnight, so you will have no
+trouble in getting across. When you come back, come here, and tell the
+porter that I have ordered you to see that my fire is properly kept up.
+Then go to sleep in the coolest place you can find."
+
+After Beroviero had given him these orders, Zorzi had plenty of time for
+reflection, for his master said nothing more, and became absorbed in his
+work, weighing out portions of different ingredients and slowly mixing
+each with the coloured earths and chemicals that were already in the
+wooden trough. There was nothing to do but to tend the fire, and Zorzi
+pushed in the pieces of Istrian beech wood with his usual industrious
+regularity. It was the only part of his work which he hated, and when he
+was obliged to do nothing else, he usually sought consolation in
+dreaming of a time when he himself should be a master glass-blower and
+artist whom it would be almost an honour for a young man to serve, even
+in such a humble way. He did not know how that was to happen, since
+there were strict laws against teaching the art to foreigners, and also
+against allowing any foreign person to establish a furnace at Murano;
+and the glass works had long been altogether banished from Venice on
+account of the danger of fire, at a time when two-thirds of the houses
+were of wood. But meanwhile Zorzi had learned the art, in spite of the
+law, and he hoped in time to overcome the other obstacles that opposed
+him.
+
+There was strength of purpose in every line of his keen young face,
+strength to endure, to forego, to suffer in silence for an end ardently
+desired. The dark brown hair grew somewhat far back from the pale
+forehead, the features were youthfully sharp and clearly drawn, and deep
+neutral shadows gave a look of almost passionate sadness to the black
+eyes. There was quick perception, imagination, love of art for its own
+sake in the upper part of the face; its strength lay in the well-built
+jaw and firm lips, and a little in the graceful and assured poise of the
+head. Zorzi was not tall, but he was shapely, and moved without effort.
+
+His eyes were sadder than usual just now, as he tended the fire in the
+silence that was broken only by the low roar of the flames within the
+brick furnace, and the irregular sound of the master's wooden instrument
+as he crushed and stirred the materials together. Zorzi had longed to
+see Contarini as soon as he had heard his name; and having unexpectedly
+obtained the certainty of seeing him that very night, he wished that
+the moment could be put off, he felt cold and hot, he wondered how he
+should behave, and whether after all he might not be tempted to do his
+enemy some bodily harm.
+
+For in a few minutes the aspect of his world had changed, and
+Contarini's unknown figure filled the future. Until to-day, he had never
+seriously thought of Marietta's marriage, nor of what would happen to
+him afterwards; but now, he was to be one of the instruments for
+bringing the marriage about. He knew well enough what the appointment in
+Saint Mark's meant: Marietta was to have an opportunity of seeing
+Contarini before accepting him. Even that was something of a concession
+in those times, but Beroviero fancied that he loved his child too much
+to marry her against her will. This was probably a great match for the
+glass-worker's daughter, however, and she would not refuse it. Contarini
+had never seen her either; he might have heard that she was a pretty
+girl, but there were famous beauties in Venice, and if he wanted
+Marietta Beroviero it could only be for her dowry. The marriage was
+therefore a mere bargain between the two men, in which a name was
+bartered for a fortune and a fortune for a name. Zorzi saw how absurd it
+was to suppose that Marietta could care for a man whom she had never
+even seen; and worse than that, he guessed in a flash of loving
+intuition how wretchedly unhappy she might be with him, and he hated and
+despised the errand he was to perform. The future seemed to reveal
+itself to him with the long martyrdom of the woman he loved, and he felt
+an almost irresistible desire to go to her and implore her to refuse to
+be sold.
+
+Nine-tenths of the marriages he had ever heard of in Murano or Venice
+had been made in this way, and in a moment's reflection he realised the
+folly of appealing even to the girl herself, who doubtless looked upon
+the whole proceeding as perfectly natural. She had of course expected
+such an event ever since she had been a child, she was prepared to
+accept it, and she only hoped that her husband might turn out to be
+young, handsome and noble, since she did not want money. A moment later,
+Zorzi included all marriageable young women in one sweeping
+condemnation: they were all hard-hearted, mercenary, vain,
+deceitful--anything that suggested itself to his headlong resentment.
+Art was the only thing worth living and dying for; the world was full of
+women, and they were all alike, old, young, ugly, handsome--all a pack
+of heartless jades; but art was one, beautiful, true, deathless and
+unchanging.
+
+He looked up from the furnace door, and he felt the blood rush to his
+face. Marietta was standing near and watching him with her strangely
+veiled eyes.
+
+"Poor Zorzi!" she exclaimed in a soft voice. "How hot you look!"
+
+He did not remember that he had ever cared a straw whether any one
+noticed that he was hot or not, until that moment; but for some
+complicated reason connected with his own thoughts the remark stung him
+like an insult, and fully confirmed his recent verdict concerning women
+in general and their total lack of all human kindness where men were
+concerned. He rose to his feet suddenly and turned away without a word.
+
+"Come out into the garden," said Marietta. "Do you need Zorzi just now?"
+she asked, turning to her father, who only shook his head by way of
+answer, for he was very busy.
+
+"But I assure you that I am not too hot," answered Zorzi. "Why should I
+go out?"
+
+"Because I want you to fasten up one of the branches of the red rose. It
+catches in my skirt every time I pass. You will need a hammer and a
+little nail."
+
+She had not been thinking of his comfort after all, thought Zorzi as he
+got the hammer. She had only wanted something done for herself. He might
+have known it. But for the rose that caught in her skirt, he might have
+roasted alive at the furnace before she would have noticed that he was
+hot. He followed her out. She led him to the end of the walk farthest
+from the door of the laboratory; the sun was low and all the little
+garden was in deep shade. A branch of the rose-bush lay across the path,
+and Zorzi thought it looked very much as if it had been pulled down on
+purpose. She pointed to it, and as he carefully lifted it from the
+ground she spoke quickly, in a low tone.
+
+"What was my father saying to you a while ago?" she asked.
+
+Zorzi held up the branch in his hand, ready to fasten it against the
+wall, and looked at her. He saw at a glance that she had brought him out
+to ask the question.
+
+"The master was giving me certain orders," he said.
+
+"He rarely makes such long speeches when he gives orders," observed the
+girl.
+
+"His instructions were very particular."
+
+"Will you not tell me what they were?"
+
+Zorzi turned slowly from her and let the long branch rest on the bush
+while he began to drive a nail into the wall. Marietta watched him.
+
+"Why do you not answer me?" she asked.
+
+"Because I cannot," he said briefly.
+
+"Because you will not, you mean."
+
+"As you choose." Zorzi went on striking the nail.
+
+"I am sorry," answered the young girl. "I really wish to know very much.
+Besides, if you will tell me, I will give you something."
+
+Zorzi turned upon her suddenly with angry eyes.
+
+"If money could buy your father's secrets from me, I should be a rich
+man by this time."
+
+"I think I know as much of my father's secrets as you do," answered
+Marietta more coldly, "and I did not mean to offer you money."
+
+"What then?" But as he asked the question Zorzi turned away again and
+began to fasten the branch.
+
+Marietta did not answer at once, but she idly picked a rose from the
+bush and put it to her lips to breathe in its freshness.
+
+"Why should you think that I meant to insult you?" she asked gently.
+
+"I am only a servant, after all," answered Zorzi, with unnecessary
+bitterness. "Why should you not insult your servants, if you please? It
+would be quite natural."
+
+"Would it? Even if you were really a servant?"
+
+"It seems quite natural to you that I should betray your father's
+confidence. I do not see much difference between taking it for granted
+that a man is a traitor and offering him money to act as one."
+
+"No," said Marietta, smelling the rose from time to time as she spoke,
+"there is not much difference. But I did not mean to hurt your
+feelings."
+
+"You did not realise that I could have any, I fancy," retorted Zorzi,
+still angry.
+
+"Perhaps I did not understand that you would consider what my father was
+telling you in the same light as a secret of the art," said Marietta
+slowly, "nor that you would look upon what I meant to offer you as a
+bribe. The matter concerned me, did it not?"
+
+"Your name was not spoken. I have fastened the branch. Is there anything
+else for me to do?"
+
+"Have you no curiosity to know what I would have given you?" asked
+Marietta.
+
+"I should be ashamed to want anything at such a price," returned Zorzi
+proudly.
+
+"You hold your honour high, even in trifles."
+
+"It is all I have--my honour and my art."
+
+"You care for nothing else? Nothing else in the whole world?"
+
+"Nothing," said Zorzi.
+
+"You must be very lonely in your thoughts," she said, and turned away.
+
+As she went slowly along the path her hand hung by her side, and the
+rose she held fell from her fingers. Following her at a short distance,
+on his way back to the laboratory, Zorzi stooped and picked up the
+flower, not thinking that she would turn her head. But at that moment
+she had reached the door, and she looked back and saw what he had done.
+She stood still and held out her hand, expecting him to come up with
+her.
+
+"My rose!" she exclaimed, as if surprised. "Give it back to me."
+
+Zorzi gave it to her, and the colour came to his face a second time. She
+fastened it in her bodice, looking down at it as she did so.
+
+"I am so fond of roses," she said, smiling a little. "Are you?"
+
+"I planted all those you have here," he answered.
+
+"Yes--I know."
+
+She looked up as she spoke, and met his eyes, and all at once she
+laughed, not unkindly, nor as if at him, nor at what he had said, but
+quietly and happily, as women do when they have got what they want.
+Zorzi did not understand.
+
+"You are gay," he said coldly.
+
+"Do you wonder?" she asked. "If you knew what I know, you would
+understand."
+
+"But I do not."
+
+Zorzi went back to his furnace, Marietta exchanged a few words with her
+father and left the room again to go home.
+
+In the garden she paused a moment by the rose-bush, where she had talked
+with Zorzi, but there was not even the shadow of a smile in her face
+now. She went down the dark corridor and called the porter, who roused
+himself, opened the door and hailed the house opposite. A woman looked
+out in the evening light, nodded and disappeared. A few seconds later
+she came out of the house, a quiet little middle-aged creature in brown,
+with intelligent eyes, and she crossed the shaky wooden bridge over the
+canal to come and bring Marietta home. It would have been a scandalous
+thing if the daughter of Angelo Beroviero had been seen by the
+neighbours to walk a score of paces in the street without an attendant.
+She had thrown a hood of dark green cloth over her head, and the folds
+hung below her shoulders, half hiding her graceful figure. Her step was
+smooth and deliberate, while the little brown serving-woman trotted
+beside her across the wooden bridge.
+
+The house of Angelo Beroviero hung over the paved way, above the edge of
+the water, the upper story being supported by six stone columns and
+massive wooden beams, forming a sort of portico which was at the same
+time a public thoroughfare; but as the house was not far from the end
+of the canal of San Piero which opens towards Venice, few people passed
+that way.
+
+Marietta paused a moment while the woman held the door open for her. The
+sun had just set and the salt freshness that comes with the rising tide
+was already in the air.
+
+"I wish I were in Venice this evening," she said, almost to herself.
+
+The serving-woman looked at her suspiciously.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+The June night was dark and warm as Zorzi pushed off from the steps
+before his master's house and guided his skiff through the canal,
+scarcely moving the single oar, as the rising tide took his boat
+silently along. It was not until he had passed the last of the
+glass-houses on his right, and was already in the lagoon that separates
+Murano from Venice, that he began to row, gently at first, for fear of
+being heard by some one ashore, and then more quickly, swinging his oar
+in the curved crutch with that skilful, serpentine stroke which is
+neither rowing nor sculling, but which has all the advantages of both,
+for it is swift and silent, and needs scarcely to be slackened even in a
+channel so narrow that the boat itself can barely pass.
+
+Now that he was away from the houses, the stars came out and he felt the
+pleasant land breeze in his face, meeting the rising tide. Not a boat
+was out upon the shallow lagoon but his own, not a sound came from the
+town behind him; but as the flat bow of the skiff gently slapped the
+water, it plashed and purled with every stroke of the oar, and a faint
+murmur of voices in song was borne to him on the wind from the still
+waking city.
+
+He stood upright on the high stern of the shadowy craft, himself but a
+moving shadow in the starlight, thrown forward now, and now once more
+erect, in changing motion; and as he moved the same thought came back
+and back again in a sort of halting and painful rhythm. He was out that
+night on a bad errand, it said, helping to sell the life of the woman he
+loved, and what he was doing could never be undone. Again and again the
+words said themselves, the far-off voices said them, the lapping water
+took them up and repeated them, the breeze whispered them quickly as it
+passed, the oar pronounced them as it creaked softly in the crutch
+rowlock, the stars spelled out the sentences in the sky, the lights of
+Venice wrote them in the water in broken reflections. He was not alone
+any more, for everything in heaven and earth was crying to him to go
+back.
+
+That was folly, and he knew it. The master who had trusted him would
+drive him out of his house, and out of Venetian land and water, too, if
+he chose, and he should never see Marietta again; and she would be
+married to Contarini just as if Zorzi had taken the message. Besides, it
+was the custom of the world everywhere, so far as he knew, that marriage
+and money should be spoken of in the same breath, and there was no
+reason why his master should make an exception and be different from
+other men.
+
+He could put some hindrance in the way, of course, if he chose to
+interfere, for he could deliver the message wrong, and Contarini would
+go to the church in the afternoon instead of in the morning. He smiled
+grimly in the dark as he thought of the young nobleman waiting for an
+hour or two beside the pillar, to be looked at by some one who never
+came, then catching sight at last of some ugly old maid of forty,
+protected by her servant, ogling him, while she said her prayers and
+filling him with horror at the thought that she must be Marietta
+Beroviero. All that might happen, but it must inevitably be found out,
+the misunderstanding would be cleared away and the marriage would be
+arranged after all.
+
+He had rested on his oar to think, and now he struck it deep into the
+black water and the skiff shot ahead. He would have a far better chance
+of serving Marietta in the future if he obeyed his master and delivered
+his message exactly; for he should see Contarini himself and judge of
+him, in the first place, and that alone was worth much, and afterwards
+there would be time enough for desperate resolutions. He hastened his
+stroke, and when he ran under the shadow of the overhanging houses his
+mood changed and he grew hopeful, as many young men do, out of sheer
+curiosity as to what was before him, and out of the wish to meet
+something or somebody that should put his own strength to the test.
+
+It was not far now. With infinite caution he threaded the dark canals,
+thanking fortune for the faint starlight that showed him the turnings.
+Here and there a small oil lamp burned before the image of a saint; from
+a narrow lane on one side, the light streamed across the water, and with
+it came sounds of ringing glasses, and the tinkling of a lute, and
+laughing voices; then it was dark again as his skiff shot by, and he
+made haste, for he wished not to be seen.
+
+Presently, and somewhat to his surprise, he saw a gondola before him in
+a narrow place, rowed slowly by a man who seemed to be in black like
+himself. He did not try to pass it, but kept a little astern, trying not
+to attract attention and hoping that it would turn aside into another
+canal. But it went steadily on before him, turning wherever he must
+turn, till it stopped where he was to stop, at the water-gate of the
+house of the Agnus Dei. Instantly he brought to in the shadow, with the
+instinctive caution of every one who is used to the water. Gondolas were
+few in those days and belonged only to the rich, who had just begun to
+use them as a means of getting about quickly, much more convenient than
+horses or mules; for when riding a man often had to go far out of his
+way to reach a bridge, and there were many canals that had no bridle
+path at all and where the wooden houses were built straight down into
+the water as the stone ones are to-day. Zorzi peered through the
+darkness and listened. The occupant of the gondola might be Contarini
+himself, coming home. Whoever it was tapped softly upon the door, which
+was instantly opened, but to Zorzi's surprise no light shone from the
+entrance. All the house above was still and dark, and he could barely
+make out by the starlight the piece of white marble bearing the
+sculptured Agnus Dei whence the house takes its name. He knew that above
+the high balcony there were graceful columns bearing pointed stone
+arches, between which are the symbols of the four Evangelists; but he
+could see nothing of them. Only on the balcony, he fancied he saw
+something less dark than the wall or the sky, and which might be a
+woman's dress.
+
+Some one got out of the gondola and went in after speaking a few words
+in a low tone, and the door was then shut without noise. The gondola
+glided on, under the Baker's Bridge, but Zorzi could not see whether it
+went further or not; he thought he heard the sound of the oar, as if it
+were going away. Coming alongside the step, he knocked gently as the
+last comer had done, and the door opened again. He had already made his
+skiff fast to the step.
+
+"Your business here?" asked a muffled voice out of the dark.
+
+Zorzi felt that a number of persons were in the hall immediately behind
+the speaker.
+
+"For the Lord Jacopo Contarini," he answered. "I have a message and a
+token to deliver."
+
+"From whom?"
+
+"I will tell that to his lordship," replied Zorzi.
+
+"I am Contarini," replied the voice, and the speaker felt for Zorzi's
+face in the darkness, and brought it near his ear.
+
+"From Angelo," whispered Zorzi, so softly that Contarini only heard the
+last word.
+
+The door was now shut as noiselessly as before, but not by Contarini
+himself. He still kept his hold on Zorzi's arm.
+
+"The token," he whispered impatiently.
+
+Zorzi pulled the little leathern bag out of his doublet, slipped the
+string over his head and thrust the token into Contarini's hand. The
+latter uttered a low exclamation of surprise.
+
+"What is this?" he asked.
+
+"The token," answered Zorzi.
+
+He had scarcely spoken when he felt Contarini's arms round him, holding
+him fast. He was wise enough to make no attempt to escape from them.
+
+"Friends," said Contarini quickly, "the man who just came in is a spy. I
+am holding him. Help me!"
+
+It seemed to Zorzi that a hundred hands seized him in the dark; by the
+arms, by the legs, by the body, by the head. He knew that resistance was
+worse than useless. There were hands at his throat, too.
+
+"Let us do nothing hastily," said Contarini's voice, close beside him.
+"We must find out what he knows first. We can make him speak, I
+daresay."
+
+"We are not hangmen to torture a prisoner till he confesses," observed
+some one in a quiet and rather indolent tone. "Strangle him quickly and
+throw him into the canal. It is late already."
+
+"No," answered Contarini. "Let us at least see his face. We may know
+him. If you cry out," he said to Zorzi, "you will be killed instantly."
+
+"Jacopo is right," said some one who had not spoken yet.
+
+Almost at the same instant a door was opened and a broad bar of light
+shot across the hall from an inner room. Zorzi was roughly dragged
+towards it, and he saw that he was surrounded by about twenty masked
+men. His face was held to the light, and Contarini's hold on his throat
+relaxed.
+
+"Not even a mask!" exclaimed Jacopo. "A fool, or a madman. Speak, man I
+Who are you? Who sent you here?"
+
+"My name is Zorzi," answered the glass-blower with difficulty, for he
+had been almost choked. "My business is with the Lord Jacopo alone. It
+is very private."
+
+"I have no secrets from my friends," said Contarini. "Speak as if we
+were alone."
+
+"I have promised my master to deliver the message in secret. I will not
+speak here."
+
+"Strangle him and throw him out," suggested the man with the indolent
+voice. "His master is the devil, I have no doubt. He can take the
+message back with him."
+
+Two or three laughed.
+
+"These spies seldom hunt alone," remarked another. "While we are wasting
+time a dozen more may be guarding the entrance to the house."
+
+"I am no spy," said Zorzi.
+
+"What are you, then?"
+
+"A glass-worker of Murano."
+
+Contarini's hands relaxed altogether, now, and he bent his ear to
+Zorzi's lips.
+
+"Whisper your message," he said quickly.
+
+Zorzi obeyed.
+
+"Angelo Beroviero bids you wait by the second pillar on the left in
+Saint Mark's church, next Sunday morning, at one hour before noon, till
+you shall see him, and in a week from that time you shall have an
+answer; and be silent, if you would succeed."
+
+"Very well," answered Contarini. "Friends," he said, standing erect, "it
+is a message I have expected. The name of the man who sends it is
+'Angelo'--you understand. It is not this fellow's fault that he came
+here this evening."
+
+"I suppose there is a woman in the case," said the indolent man. "We
+will respect your secret. Put the poor devil out of his misery and let
+us come to our business."
+
+"Kill an innocent man!" exclaimed Contarini.
+
+"Yes, since a word from him can send us all to die between the two red
+columns."
+
+"His master is powerful and rich," said Jacopo. "If the fellow does not
+go back to-night, there will be trouble to-morrow, and since he was sent
+to my house, the inquiry will begin here."
+
+"That is true," said more than one voice, in a tone of hesitation.
+
+Zorzi was very pale, but he held his head high, facing the light of the
+tall wax candles on the table around which his captors were standing. He
+was hopelessly at their mercy, for they were twenty to one; the door had
+been shut and barred and the only window in the room was high above the
+floor and covered by a thick curtain. He understood perfectly that, by
+the accident of Angelo's name, "Angel" being the password of the
+company, he had been accidentally admitted to the meeting of some secret
+society, and from what had been said, he guessed that its object was a
+conspiracy against the Republic. It was clear that in self-defence they
+would most probably kill him, since they could not reasonably run the
+risk of trusting their lives in his hands. They looked at each other, as
+if silently debating what they should do.
+
+"At first you suggested that we should torture him," sneered the
+indolent man, "and now you tremble like a girl at the idea of killing
+him! Listen to me, Jacopo; if you think that I will leave this house
+while this fellow is alive, you are most egregiously mistaken."
+
+He had drawn his dagger while he was speaking, and before he had
+finished it was dangerously near Zorzi's throat. Contarini retired a
+step as if not daring to defend the prisoner, whose assailant, in spite
+of his careless and almost womanish tone, was clearly a man of action.
+Zorzi looked fearlessly into the eyes that peered at him through the
+holes in the mask.
+
+"It is curious," observed the other. "He does not seem to be afraid. I
+am sorry for you, my man, for you appear to be a fine fellow, and I like
+your face, but we cannot possibly let you go out of the house alive."
+
+"If you choose to trust me," said Zorzi calmly, "I will not betray you.
+But of course it must seem safer for you to kill me. I quite
+understand."
+
+"If anything, he is cooler than Venier," observed one of the company.
+
+"He does not believe that we are in earnest," said Contarini.
+
+"I am," answered Venier. "Now, my man," he said, addressing Zorzi again,
+"if there is anything I can do for you or your family after your death,
+without risking my neck, I will do it with pleasure."
+
+"I have no family, but I thank you for your offer. In return for your
+courtesy, I warn you that my master's skiff is fast to the step of the
+house. It might be recognised. When you have killed me, you had better
+cast it off--it will drift away with the tide."
+
+Venier, who had let the point of his long dagger rest against Zorzi's
+collar, suddenly dropped it.
+
+"Contarini," he said, "I take back what I said. It would be an
+abominable shame to murder a man as brave as he is."
+
+A murmur of approval came from all the company; but Contarini, whose
+vacillating nature showed itself at every turn, was now inclined to take
+the other side.
+
+"He may ruin us all," he said. "One word--"
+
+"It seems to me," interrupted a big man who had not yet spoken, and
+whose beard was as black as his mask, "that we could make use of just
+such a man as this, and of more like him if they are to be found."
+
+"You are right," said Venier. "If he will take the oath, and bear the
+tests, let him be one of us. My friend," he said to Zorzi, "you see how
+it is. You have proved yourself a brave man, and if you are willing to
+join our company we shall be glad to receive you among us. Do you
+agree?"
+
+"I must know what the purpose of your society is," answered Zorzi as
+calmly as before.
+
+"That is well said, my friend, and I like you the better for it. Now
+listen to me. We are a brotherhood of gentlemen of Venice sworn together
+to restore the original freedom of our city. That is our main purpose.
+What Tiepolo and Faliero failed to do, we hope to accomplish. Are you
+with us in that?"
+
+"Sirs," answered Zorzi, "I am a Dalmatian by birth, and not a Venetian.
+The Republic forbids me to learn the art of glass-working. I have
+learned it. The Republic forbids me to set up a furnace of my own. I
+hope to do so. I owe Venice neither allegiance nor gratitude. If your
+revolution is to give freedom to art as well as to men, I am with you."
+
+"We shall have freedom for all," said Venier. "We take, moreover, an
+oath of fellowship which binds us to help each other in all
+circumstances, to the utmost of our ability and fortune, within the
+bounds of reason, to risk life and limb for each other's safety, and
+most especially to respect the wives, the daughters and the betrothed
+brides of all who belong to our fellowship. These are promises which
+every true and honest man can make to his friends, and we agree that
+whoso breaks any one of them, shall die by the hands of the company. And
+by God in heaven, it were better that you should lose your life now,
+before taking the oath, than that you should be false to it."
+
+"I will take that oath, and keep it," said Zorzi.
+
+"That is well. We have few signs and no ceremonies, but our promises
+are binding, and the forfeit is a painful death--so painful that even
+you might flinch before it. Indeed, we usually make some test of a man's
+courage before receiving him among us, though most of us have known each
+other since we were children. But you have shown us that you are
+fearless and honourable, and we ask nothing more of you, except to take
+the oath and then to keep it."
+
+He turned to the company, still speaking in his languid way.
+
+"If any man here knows good reason why this new companion should not be
+one of us, let him show it now."
+
+Then all were silent, and uncovered their heads, but they still kept
+their masks on their faces. Zorzi stood out before them, and Venier was
+close beside him.
+
+"Make the sign of the Cross," said Venier in a solemn tone, quite
+different from his ordinary voice, "and repeat the words after me."
+
+And Zorzi repeated them steadily and precisely, holding his hand
+stretched out before him.
+
+"In the name of the Holy Trinity, I promise and swear to give life and
+fortune in the good cause of restoring the original liberty of the
+people of Venice, obeying to that end the decisions of this honourable
+society, and to bear all sufferings rather than betray it, or any of its
+members. And I promise to help each one of my companions also in the
+ordinary affairs of life, to the best of my ability and fortune, within
+the bounds of reason, risking life and limb for the safety of each and
+all. And I promise most especially to honour and respect the wives, the
+daughters and the betrothed brides of all who belong to this fellowship,
+and to defend them from harm and insult, even as my own mother. And if I
+break any promise of this oath, may my flesh be torn from my limbs and
+my limbs from my body, one by one, to be burned with fire and the ashes
+thereof scattered abroad. Amen."
+
+When Zorzi had said the last word, Venier grasped his hand, at the same
+time taking off the mask he wore, and he looked into the young man's
+face.
+
+"I am Zuan Venier," he said, his indolent manner returning as he spoke.
+
+"I am Jacopo Contarini," said the master of the house, offering his hand
+next.
+
+Zorzi looked first at one, and then at the other; the first was a very
+pale young man, with bright blue eyes and delicate features that were
+prematurely weary and even worn; Contarini was called the handsomest
+Venetian of his day. Yet of the two, most men and women would have been
+more attracted to Venier at first sight. For Contarini's silken beard
+hardly concealed a weak and feminine mouth, with lips too red and too
+curving for a man, and his soft brown eyes had an unmanly tendency to
+look away while he was speaking. He was tall, broad shouldered, and well
+proportioned, with beautiful hands and shapely feet, yet he did not give
+an impression of strength, whereas Venier's languid manner, assumed as
+it doubtless was, could not hide the restless energy that lay in his
+lean frame.
+
+One by one the other companions came up to Zorzi, took off their masks
+and grasped his hand, and he heard their lips pronounce names famous in
+Venetian history, Loredan, Mocenigo, Foscari and many others. But he saw
+that not one of them all was over five-and-twenty years of age, and with
+the keenness of the waif who had fought his own way in the world he
+judged that these were not men who could overturn the great Republic and
+build up a new government. Whatever they might prove to be in danger and
+revolution, however, he had saved his life by casting his lot with
+theirs, and he was profoundly grateful to them for having accepted him
+as one of themselves. But for their generosity, his weighted body would
+have been already lying at the bottom of the canal, and he was not just
+now inclined to criticise the mental gifts of those would-be
+conspirators who had so unexpectedly forgiven him for discovering their
+secret meeting.
+
+"Sirs," he said, when he had grasped the hand of each, "I hope that in
+return for my life, for which I thank you, I may be of some service to
+the cause of liberty, and to each of you in singular, though I have but
+little hope of this, seeing that I am but an artist and you are all
+patricians. I pray you, inform me by what sign I may know you if we
+chance to meet outside this house, and how I may make myself known."
+
+"We have little need of signs," answered Contarini, "for we meet often,
+and we know each other well. But our password is 'the Angel'--meaning
+the Angel that freed Saint Peter from his bonds, as we hope to free
+Venice from hers, and the token we give is the grip of the hand we have
+each given you."
+
+Being thus instructed, Zorzi held his peace, for he felt that he was in
+the presence of men far above him in station, in whose conversation it
+would not be easy for him to join, and of whose daily lives he knew
+nothing, except that most of them lived in palaces and many were the
+sons of Councillors of the Ten, and of Senators, and Procurators and of
+others high in office, whereat he wondered much. But presently, as the
+excitement of what had happened wore off, and they sat about the table,
+they began to speak of the news of the day, and especially of the unjust
+and cruel acts of the Ten, each contributing some detail learned in his
+own home or among intimate friends. Zorzi sat silent in his place,
+listening, and he soon understood that as yet they had no definite plan
+for bringing on a revolution, and that they knew nothing of the populace
+upon whose support they reckoned, and of whom Zorzi knew much by
+experience. Yet, though they told each other things which seemed foolish
+to him, he said nothing on that first night, and all the time he watched
+Contarini very closely, and listened with especial attention to what he
+said, trying to discern his character and judge his understanding.
+
+The splendid young Venetian was not displeased by Zorzi's attitude
+towards him, and presently came and sat beside him.
+
+"I should have explained to you," he said, "that as it would be
+impossible for us to meet here without the knowledge of my servants, we
+come together on pretence of playing games of chance. My father lives in
+our palace near Saint Mark's, and I live here alone."
+
+At this Foscari, the tall man with the black beard, looked at Contarini
+and laughed a little. Contarini glanced at him and smiled with some
+constraint.
+
+"On such evenings," he continued, "I admit my guests myself, and they
+wear masks when they come, for though my servants are dismissed to their
+quarters, and would certainly not betray me for a dice-player, they
+might let drop the names of my friends if they saw them from an upper
+window."
+
+At this juncture Zorzi heard the rattling of dice, and looking down the
+table he saw that two of the company were already throwing against each
+other. In a few minutes he found himself sitting alone near Zuan Venier,
+all the others having either begun to play themselves, or being engaged
+in wagering on the play of others.
+
+"And you, sir?" inquired Zorzi of his neighbour.
+
+"I am tired of games of chance," answered the pale nobleman wearily.
+
+"But our host says it is a mere pretence, to hide the purpose of these
+meetings."
+
+"It is more than that," said Venier with a contemptuous smile. "Do you
+play?"
+
+"I am a poor artist, sir. I cannot."
+
+"Ah, I had forgotten. That is very interesting. But pray do not call me
+'sir' nor use any formality, unless we meet in public. At the 'Sign of
+the Angel' we are all brothers. Yes--yes--of course! You are a poor
+artist. When I expected to be obliged to cut your throat awhile ago, I
+really hoped that I might be able to fulfil some last wish of yours."
+
+"I appreciated your goodness." Zorzi laughed a little nervously, now
+that the danger was over.
+
+"I meant it, my friend, I do assure you. And I mean it now. One
+advantage of the fellowship is that one may offer to help a brother in
+any way without insulting him. I am not as rich as I was--I was too fond
+of those things once"--he pointed to the dice--"but if my purse can
+serve you, such as it is, I hope you will use it rather than that of
+another."
+
+It was impossible to be offended, sensitive though Zorzi was.
+
+"I thank you heartily," he answered.
+
+"It would be a curiosity to see money do good for once," said Venier,
+languidly looking towards the players. "Contarini is losing again," he
+remarked.
+
+"Does he generally lose much at play?" Zorzi asked, trying to seem
+indifferent.
+
+Venier laughed softly.
+
+"It is proverbial, 'to lose like Jacopo Contarini'!" he answered.
+
+"Tell me, I beg of you, are all the meetings of the brotherhood like
+this one?"
+
+"In what way?" asked Venier indifferently.
+
+"Do you merely tell each other the news of the day, and then play at
+dice all night?"
+
+"Some play cards." Venier laughed scornfully. "This is only the third of
+our secret sittings, I believe, but many of us meet elsewhere, during
+the day."
+
+"Our host said that the society made a pretence of play in order to
+conspire against the State," said Zorzi. "It seems to me that this is
+making a pretence of conspiracy, with the chance of death on the
+scaffold, for the sake of dice-playing."
+
+"To tell the truth, I think so too," answered the patrician, leaning
+back in his chair and looking thoughtfully at the young glass-blower.
+"It is more interesting to break a law when you may lose your head for
+it than if you only risk a fine or a year's banishment. I daresay that
+seems complicated to you."
+
+Zorzi laughed.
+
+"If it is only for the sake of the danger," he said, "why not go and
+fight the Turks?"
+
+"I have tried to do my share of that," replied Venier quietly. "So have
+some of the others."
+
+"Contarini?" asked Zorzi.
+
+"No. I believe he has never seen any fighting."
+
+While the two were talking the play had proceeded steadily, and almost
+in silence. Contarini had lost heavily at first and had then won back
+his losses and twice as much more.
+
+"That does not happen often," he said, pushing away the dice and leaning
+back.
+
+Zorzi watched him. The yellow light of the wax candles fell softly upon
+his silky beard and too perfect features, and made splendid shadows in
+the scarlet silk of his coat, and flashed in the precious ruby of the
+ring he wore on his white hand. He seemed a true incarnation of his
+magnificent city, a century before the rest of all Italy in luxury, in
+extravagance, in the art of wasteful trifling with great things which is
+a rich man's way of loving art itself; and there were many others of the
+company who were of the same stamp as he, but whose faces had no
+interest for Zorzi compared with Contarini's. Beside him they were but
+ordinary men in the presence of a young god.
+
+No woman could resist such a man as that, thought the poor waif. It
+would be enough that Marietta's eyes should rest on him one moment, next
+Sunday, when he should be standing by the great pillar in the church,
+and her fate would be sealed then and there, irrevocably. It was not
+because she was only a glass-maker's daughter, brought up in Murano.
+What girl who was human would hesitate to accept such a husband?
+Contarini might choose his wife as he pleased, among the noblest and
+most beautiful in Italy. One or both of two reasons would explain why
+his choice had fallen upon Marietta. It was possible that he had seen
+her, and Zorzi firmly believed that no man could see her without loving
+her; and Angelo Beroviero might have offered such an immense dowry for
+the alliance as to tempt Jacopo's father. No one knew how rich old
+Angelo was since he had returned from Florence and Naples, and many said
+that he possessed the secret of making gold; but Zorzi knew better than
+that.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+It was past midnight when Jacopo Contarini barred the door of his house
+and was alone. He took one of the candles from the inner room, put out
+all the others and was already in the hall, when he remembered that he
+had left his winnings on the table. Going back he opened the embroidered
+wallet he wore at his belt and swept the heap of heavy yellow coins into
+it. As the last disappeared into the bag and rang upon the others he
+distinctly heard a sound in the room. He started and looked about him.
+
+It was not exactly the sound of a soft footfall, nor of breathing, but
+it might have been either. It was short and distinct, such a slight
+noise as might be made by drawing the palm of the hand quickly over a
+piece of stuff, or by a short breath checked almost instantly, or by a
+shoeless foot slipping a few inches on a thick carpet. Contarini stood
+still and listened, for though he had heard it distinctly he had no
+impression of the direction whence it had come. It was not repeated, and
+he began to search the room carefully.
+
+He could find nothing. The single window, high above the floor, was
+carefully closed and covered by a heavy curtain which could not
+possibly have moved in the stillness. The tapestry was smoothly drawn
+and fastened upon the four walls. There was no furniture in the room but
+a big table and the benches and chairs. Above the tapestries the bare
+walls were painted, up to the carved ceiling. There was nothing to
+account for the noise. Contarini looked nervously over his shoulder as
+he left the room, and more than once again as he went up the marble
+staircase, candle in hand. There is probably nothing more disturbing to
+people of ordinary nerves than a sound heard in a lonely place and for
+which it is impossible to find a reason.
+
+When he reached the broad landing he smiled at himself and looked back a
+last time, shading the candle with his hand, so as to throw the light
+down the staircase. Then he entered the apartment and locked himself in.
+Having passed through the large square vestibule and through a small
+room that led from it, he raised the latch of the next door very
+cautiously, shaded the candle again and looked in. A cool breeze almost
+put out the light.
+
+"I am not asleep," said a sweet young voice. "I am here by the window."
+
+He smiled happily at the words. The candle-light fell upon a woman's
+face, as he went forward--such a face as men may see in dreams, but
+rarely in waking life.
+
+Half sitting, half lying, she rested in Eastern fashion among the silken
+cushions of a low divan. The open windows of the balcony overlooked the
+low houses opposite, and the night breeze played with the little
+ringlets of her glorious hair. Her soft eyes looked up to her lover's
+face with infinite trustfulness, and their violet depths were like clear
+crystal and as tender as the twilight of a perfect day. She looked at
+him, her head thrown back, one ivory arm between it and the cushion, the
+other hand stretched out to welcome his. Her mouth was like a southern
+rose when there is dew on the smooth red leaves. In a maze of creamy
+shadows, the fine web of her garment followed the lines of her resting
+limbs in delicate folds, and one small white foot was quite uncovered.
+Her fan of ostrich feathers lay idle on the Persian carpet.
+
+"Come, my beloved," she said. "I have waited long."
+
+Contarini knelt down, and first he kissed the arching instep, and then
+her hand, that felt like a young dove just stirring under his touch, and
+his lips caressed the satin of her arm, and at last, with a fierce
+little choking cry, they found her own that waited for them, and there
+was no more room for words. In the silence of the June night one kiss
+answered another, and breath mingled with breath, and sigh with sigh.
+
+At last the young man's head rested against her shoulder among the
+cushions. Then the Georgian woman opened her eyes slowly and glanced
+down at his face, while her hand stroked and smoothed his hair, and he
+could not see the strange smile on her wonderful lips. For she knew that
+he could not see it, and she let it come and go as it would, half in
+pity and half in scorn.
+
+"I knew you would come," she said, bending her head a little nearer to
+his.
+
+"When I do not, you will know that I am dead," he answered almost
+faintly, and he sighed.
+
+"And then I shall go to you," she said, but as she spoke, she smiled
+again to herself. "I have heard that in old times, when the lords of the
+earth died, their most favourite slaves were killed upon the funeral
+pile, that their souls might wait upon their master's in the world
+beyond."
+
+"Yes. It is true."
+
+"And so I will be your slave there, as I am here, and the night that
+lasts for ever shall seem no longer than this summer night, that is too
+short for us."
+
+"You must not call yourself a slave, Arisa," answered Jacopo.
+
+"What am I, then? You bought me with your good gold from Aristarchi the
+Greek captain, in the slave market. Your steward has the receipt for the
+money among his accounts! And there is the Greek's written guarantee,
+too, I am sure, promising to take me back and return the money if I was
+not all he told you I was. Those are my documents of nobility, my
+patents of rank, preserved in your archives with your own!"
+
+She spoke playfully, smiling to herself as she stroked his hair. But he
+caught her hand tenderly and brought it to his lips, holding it there.
+
+"You are more free than I," he said. "Which of us two is the slave? You
+who hold me, or I who am held? This little hand will never let me go."
+
+"I think you would come back to me," she answered. "But if I ran away,
+would you follow me?"
+
+"You will not run away." He spoke quietly and confidently, still holding
+her hand, as if he were talking to it, while he felt the breath of her
+winds upon his forehead.
+
+"No," she said, and there was a little silence.
+
+"I have but one fear," he began, at last. "If I were ruined, what would
+become of you?"
+
+"Have you lost at play again to-night?" she asked, and in her tone there
+was a note of anxiety.
+
+Contarini laughed low, and felt for the wallet at his aide. He held it
+up to show how heavy it was with the gold, and made her take it. She
+only kept it a moment, but while it was in her hand her eyelids were
+half closed as if she were guessing at the weight, for he could not see
+her face.
+
+"I won all that," he said. "To-morrow you shall have the pearls."
+
+"How good you are to me! But should you not keep the money? You may need
+it. Why do you talk of ruin?"
+
+She knew that he would give her all he had, she almost guessed that he
+would commit a crime rather than lack gold to give her.
+
+"You do not know my father!" he answered. "When he is displeased he
+threatens to let me starve. He will cut me off some day, and I shall
+have to turn soldier for a living. Would that not be ruin? You know his
+last scheme--he wishes me to marry the daughter of a rich glass-maker."
+
+"I know." Arisa laughed contemptuously, "Great joy may your bride have
+of you! Is she really rich?"
+
+"Yes. But you know that I will not marry her."
+
+"Why not?" asked Arisa quite simply.
+
+Contarini started and looked up at her face in the dim light. She was
+bending down to him with a very loving look.
+
+"Why should you not marry?" she asked again. "Why do you start and look
+at me so strangely? Do you think I should care? Or that I am afraid of
+another woman for you?"
+
+"Yes. I should have thought that you would be jealous." He still gazed
+at her in astonishment.
+
+"Jealous!" she cried, and as she laughed she shook her beautiful head,
+and the gold of her hair glittered in the flickering candle-light.
+"Jealous? I? Look at me! Is she younger than I? I was eighteen years old
+the other day. If she is younger than I, she is a child--shall I be
+jealous of children? Is she taller, straighter, handsomer than I am?
+Show her to me, and I will laugh in her face! Can she sing to you, as I
+sing, in the summer nights, the songs you like and those I learned by
+the Kura in the shadow of Kasbek? Is her hair brighter than mine, is her
+hand softer, is her step lighter? Jealous? Not I! Will your rich wife be
+your slave? Will she wake for you, sing for you, dance for you, rise up
+and lie down at your bidding, work for you, live for you, die for you,
+as I will? Will she love you as I can love, caress you to sleep, or wake
+you with kisses at your dear will?"
+
+"No--ah no! There is no woman in the world but you."
+
+"Then I am not jealous of the rest, least of all, of your young bride. I
+will wager with myself against all her gold for your life, and I shall
+win--I have won already! Am I not trying to persuade you that you should
+marry?"
+
+"I have not even seen her. Her father sent me a message to-night,
+bidding me go to church on Sunday and stand beside a certain pillar."
+
+"To see and be seen," laughed Arisa. "It is not a fair exchange! She
+will look at the handsomest man in the world--hush! That is the truth.
+And you will see a little, pale, red-haired girl with silly blue eyes,
+staring at you, her wide mouth open and her clumsy hands hanging down.
+She will look like the wooden dolls they dress in the latest Venetian
+fashion to send to Paris every year, that the French courtiers may know
+what to wear! And her father will hurry her along, for fear that you
+should look too long at her and refuse to marry such a thing, even for
+Marco Polo's millions!"
+
+Contarini laughed carelessly at the description.
+
+"Give me some wine," he said. "We will drink her health."
+
+Arisa rose with the grace of a young goddess, her hair tumbling over her
+bare shoulders in a splendid golden confusion. Contarini watched her
+with possessive eyes, as she went and came back, bringing him the drink.
+She brought him yellow wine of Chios in a glass calix of Murano, blown
+air-thin upon a slender stem and just touched here and there with drops
+of tender blue.
+
+"A health to the bride of Jacopo Contarini!" she said, with a ringing
+little laugh.
+
+Then she set the wine to her lips, so that they were wet with it, and
+gave him the glass; and as she stooped to give it, her hair fell forward
+and almost hid her from him.
+
+"A health to the shower of gold!" he said, and he drank.
+
+She sat down beside him, crossing her feet like an Eastern woman, and he
+set the empty glass carelessly upon the marble floor, as though it had
+been a thing of no price.
+
+"That glass was made at her father's furnace," he said.
+
+"A pity he could not have made his daughter of glass too," answered
+Arisa.
+
+"Graceful and silent?"
+
+"And easily destroyed! But if I say that, you will think me jealous, and
+I am not. She will bring you wealth. I wish her a long life, long enough
+to understand that she has been sold to you for your good name, like a
+slave, as I was sold, but that you gave gold for me because you wanted
+me for myself, whereas you want nothing of her but her gold."
+
+"But for that--" Contarini seemed to be hesitating. "I never meant to
+marry her," he added.
+
+"And but for that, you would not! But for that! But for the only thing
+which I have not to give you! I wish the world were mine, with all the
+rich secret things in it, the myriads of millions of diamonds in the
+earth, the thousand rivers of gold that lie deep in the mountain rocks,
+and all mankind, and all that mankind has, from end to end of it! Then
+you should have it all for your own, and you would not need to marry the
+little red-haired girl with the fish's mouth!"
+
+Contarini laughed again.
+
+"Have you seen her, that you can describe her so well? She may have
+black hair. Who knows?"
+
+"Yes. Perhaps it is black, thin and coarse like the hair on a mule's
+tail; and she has black eyes, like ripe olives set in the white of a
+hard-boiled egg; and she has a dark skin like Spanish leather which
+shines when she is hot and is grey when she is cold; and a black down on
+her upper lip; and teeth like a young horse. I hate those dark women!"
+
+"But you have never seen her! She may be very pretty."
+
+"Pretty, then! She shall be as you choose. She shall have a round face,
+round eyes, a round nose and a round mouth! Her face shall be pink and
+white, her eyes shall be of blue glass and her hair shall be as smooth
+and yellow as fresh butter. She shall have little fat white hands like a
+healthy baby, a double chin and a short waist. Then she will be what
+people call pretty."
+
+"Yes," assented Jacopo. "That is very amusing. But just suppose, for the
+sake of discussion--it is impossible, of course, but suppose it--that
+instead of there being only one perfectly beautiful woman in the world,
+whose name is Arisa, there should be two, and that the name of the other
+chanced to be Marietta Beroviero."
+
+Arisa raised her eyes and gazed steadily at Jacopo.
+
+"You have seen her," she said in a tone of conviction. "She is
+beautiful."
+
+"No. I give you my word that I have not seen her. I only wanted to know
+what you would do then."
+
+"I do not believe that any woman is as beautiful as I am," answered the
+Georgian, with the quiet simplicity of a savage.
+
+"But if there were one, and you saw her?" insisted the man, to see what
+she would say.
+
+"We could not both live. One of us would kill the other."
+
+"I believe you would," said Jacopo, watching her face.
+
+She had forgotten his presence while she spoke; a fierce hardness had
+come into her eyes, and her upper lip was a little raised, in a cruel
+expression, just showing her teeth. He was surprised.
+
+"I never saw you like that," he said.
+
+"You should not make me think of killing," she answered, suddenly
+leaving her seat and kneeling beside him on the divan. "It is not good
+to think too much of killing--it makes one wish to do it."
+
+"Then try and kill me with kisses," he said, looking into her eyes, that
+were growing tender again.
+
+"You would not know you were dying," she whispered, her lips quite close
+to his.
+
+As she kissed him, she loosened the collar from his white throat, and
+smoothed his thick hair back from his forehead upon the pillow, and she
+saw how pale he was, under her touch.
+
+But by and by he fell asleep, and then she very softly drew her arm from
+beneath his tired head, and slipped from his side, and stood up, with a
+little sigh of relief. The candle had burned to the socket; she blew it
+out.
+
+It was still an hour before dawn when she left the room, lifting the
+heavy curtain that hung before the door of her inner chamber. There, a
+faint light was burning before a shrine in a silver cup filled with oil.
+As she fastened the door noiselessly behind her, a man caught her in his
+arms, lifting her off her feet like a child.
+
+Shaggy black hair grew low upon his bossy forehead, his dark eyes were
+fierce and bloodshot, a rough beard only half concealed the huge jaw and
+iron lips. He was half clad, in shirt and hose, and the muscles of his
+neck and arms stood out like brown ropes as he pressed the beautiful
+creature to his broad chest.
+
+"I thought he would never sleep to-night," she whispered.
+
+Her eyelids drooped, and her cheeks grew deadly white, and the strong
+man felt the furious beating of her heart against his own breast. He was
+Aristarchi, the Greek captain who had sold her for a slave, and she
+loved him.
+
+In the wild days of sea-fighting among the Greek islands he had taken a
+small trading galley that had been driven out of her course. He left not
+a man of her crew alive to tell whether she had been Turkish or
+Christian, and he took all that was worth taking of her poor cargo. The
+only prize of any price was the captive Georgian girl who was being
+brought westward to be sold, like thousands of others in those days,
+with little concealment and no mystery, in one of the slave markets of
+northern Italy. Aristarchi claimed her for himself, as his share of the
+booty, but his men knew her value. Standing shoulder to shoulder between
+him and her, they drew their knives and threatened to cut her to pieces,
+if he would not promise to sell her as she was, when they should come to
+land, and share the price with them. They judged that she must be worth
+a thousand or fifteen hundred pieces of gold, for she was more beautiful
+than any woman they had ever seen, and they had already heard her
+singing most sweetly to herself, as if she were quite sure that she was
+in no danger, because she knew her own value. So Aristarchi was forced
+to consent, cursing them; and night and day they guarded her door
+against him, till they had brought her safe to Venice, and delivered her
+to the slave-dealers.
+
+Then Aristarchi sold all that he had, except his ship, and it all
+brought far too little to buy such a slave. She would have gone with
+him, for she had seen that he was stronger than other men and feared
+neither God nor man, but she was well guarded, and he was only allowed
+to talk with her through a grated window, like those at convent gates.
+
+She was not long in the dealers' house, for word was brought to all the
+young patricians of Venice, and many of them bid against each other for
+her, in the dealers' inner room, till Contarini outbid them all, saying
+that he could not live without her, though the price should ruin him,
+and because he had not enough gold he gave the dealers, besides money, a
+marvellous sword with a jewelled hilt, which one of his forefathers had
+taken at the siege of Constantinople, and which some said had belonged
+to the Emperor Justinian himself, nine hundred years ago.
+
+Then Aristarchi and his men paid the dealers their commission and took
+the money and the sword. But before he went from the house, the Greek
+captain begged leave to see Arisa once more at the grating, and he told
+her that come what might he should steal her away. She bade him not to
+be in too great haste, and she promised that if he would wait, he should
+have with her more gold than her new master had given for her, for she
+would take all he had from him, little by little; and when they had
+enough they would leave Venice secretly, and live in a grand manner in
+Florence, or in Rome, or in Sicily. For she never doubted but that he
+would find some way of coming to her, though she were guarded more
+closely than in the slave-dealers' house, where the windows were grated
+and armed men slept before the door, and one of the dealers watched all
+night.
+
+More than a year had passed since then; the strong Greek knew every
+corner of the house of the Agnus Dei, and every foothold under Arisa's
+windows, from the water to the stone sill, by which he could help
+himself a little as he went up hand over hand by the knotted silk rope
+that would have cut to the bone any hands but his. She kept it hidden in
+a cushioned footstool in her inner room. Many a risk he had run, and
+more than once in winter he had slipped down the rope with haste to let
+himself gently into the icy water, and he had swum far down the dark
+canal to a landing-place. For he was a man of iron.
+
+So it came about that Jacopo Contarini lived in a fool's paradise, in
+which he was not only the chief fool himself, but was moreover in bodily
+danger more often than he knew. For though Aristarchi had hitherto
+managed to escape being seen, he would have killed Jacopo with his naked
+hands if the latter had ever caught him, as easily as a boy wrings a
+bird's neck, and with as little scruple of conscience.
+
+The Georgian loved him for his hirsute strength, for his fearlessness,
+even his violence and dangerous temper. He dominated her as naturally as
+she controlled her master, whose vacillating nature and love of idle
+ease filled her with contempt. It was for the sake of gold that she
+acted her part daily and nightly, with a wisdom and unwavering skill
+that were almost superhuman; and the Greek ruffian agreed to the
+bargain, and had been in no haste to carry her off, as he might have
+done at any time. She hoarded the money she got from Jacopo, to give it
+by stealth to Aristarchi, who hid their growing wealth in a safe place
+where it was always ready; but she kept her jewels always together, in
+case of an unexpected flight, since she dared not sell them nor give
+them to the Greek, lest they should be missed.
+
+Of late it had seemed to them both that the time for their final action
+was at hand, for it had been clear to Arisa that Jacopo was near the end
+of his resources, and that his father was resolved to force him to
+change his life. There were days when he was reduced to borrowing money
+for his actual needs, and though an occasional stroke of good fortune at
+play temporarily relieved him, Arisa was sure that he was constantly
+sinking deeper into debt. But within the week, the aspect of his affairs
+had changed. The marriage with Marietta had been proposed, and Arisa had
+made a discovery. She told Aristarchi everything, as naturally as she
+would have concealed everything from Contarini.
+
+"We shall be rich," she said, twining her white arms round his swarthy
+neck and looking up into his murderous eyes with something like genuine
+adoration. "We shall get the wife's dowry for ourselves, by degrees,
+every farthing of it, and it shall be the dower of Aristarchi's bride
+instead. I shall not be portionless. You shall not be ashamed of me when
+you meet your old friends."
+
+"Ashamed!" His arm pressed her to him till she longed to cry out for
+pain, yet she would not have had him less rough.
+
+"You are so strong!" she gasped in a broken whisper. "Yes--a little
+looser--so! I can speak now. You must go to Murano to-morrow and find
+out all about this Angelo Beroviero and his daughter. Try to see her,
+and tell me whether she is pretty, but most of all learn whether she is
+really rich."
+
+"That is easy enough. I will go to the furnace and offer to buy a cargo
+of glass for Sicily."
+
+"But you will not take it?" asked Arisa in sudden anxiety lest he should
+leave her to make the voyage.
+
+"No, no! I will make inquiries. I will ask for a sort of glass that does
+not exist."
+
+"Yes," she said, reassured. "Do that. I must know if the girl is rich
+before I marry him to her."
+
+"But can you make him marry her at all?" asked Aristarchi.
+
+"I can make him do anything I please. We drank to the health of the
+bride to-night, in a goblet made by her father! The wine was strong, and
+I put a little syrup of poppies into it. He will not wake for hours.
+What is the matter?"
+
+She felt the rough man shaking beside her, as if he were in an ague.
+
+"I was laughing," he said, when he could speak. "It is a good jest. But
+is there no danger in all this? Is it quite impossible that he should
+take a liking for his wife?"
+
+"And leave me?" Arisa's whisper was hot with indignation at the mere
+thought. "Then I suppose you would leave me for the first pretty girl
+with a fortune who wanted to marry you!"
+
+"This Contarini is such a fool!" answered Aristarchi contemptuously, by
+way of explanation and apology.
+
+Arisa was instantly pacified.
+
+"If he should be foolish enough for that, I have means that will keep
+him," she answered.
+
+"I do not see how you can force him to do anything except by his passion
+for you."
+
+"I can. I was not going to tell you yet--you always make me tell you
+everything, like a child."
+
+"What is it?" asked the Greek. "Have you found out anything new about
+him? Of course you must tell me."
+
+"We hold his life in our hands," she said quietly, and Aristarchi knew
+that she was not exaggerating the truth.
+
+She began to tell him how this was the third time that a number of
+masked men had come to the house an hour after dark, and had stayed till
+midnight or later, and how Contarini had told her that they came to play
+at dice where they were safe from interruption, and that on these nights
+the servants were sent to their quarters at sunset on pain of dismissal
+if Jacopo found them about the house, but that they also received
+generous presents of money to keep them silent.
+
+"The man is a fool!" said Aristarchi again. "He puts himself in their
+power."
+
+"He is much more completely in ours," answered Arisa. "The servants
+believe that his friends come to play dice. And so they do. But they
+come for something more serious."
+
+Aristarchi moved his massive head suddenly to an attitude of profound
+attention.
+
+"They are plotting against the Republic," whispered Arisa. "I can hear
+all they say."
+
+"Are you sure?"
+
+"I tell you I can hear every word. I can almost see them. Look here.
+Come with me."
+
+She rose and he followed her to the corner of the room where the small
+silver lamp burned steadily before an image of Saint Mark, and above a
+heavy kneeling-stool.
+
+"The foot moves," she said, and she was already on her knees on the
+floor, pushing the step.
+
+It slid back with the soft sound Contarini had heard before he came
+upstairs. The upper part of the woodwork was built into the wall.
+
+"They meet in the place below this," Arisa said. "When they are there, I
+can see a glimmer of light. I cannot get my head in. It is too narrow,
+but I hear as if I were with them."
+
+"How did you find this out?" asked Aristarchi on the floor beside her,
+and reaching down into the dark space to explore it with his hand. "It
+is deep," he continued, without waiting for an answer. "There may be
+some passage by which one can get down."
+
+"Only a child could pass. You see how narrow it is. But one can hear
+every sound. They said enough to-night to send them all to the
+scaffold."
+
+"Better they than we if we ever have to make the choice," said the Greek
+ominously.
+
+He had withdrawn his arm and was planted upon his hands and knees, his
+shaggy head hanging over the dark aperture. He was like some rough wild
+beast that has tracked its quarry to earth and crouches before the hole,
+waiting for a victim.
+
+"How did you find this out?" he asked again, looking up.
+
+She was standing by the corner of the stool, now, all her marvellous
+beauty showing in the light of the little lamp and against the wall
+behind her.
+
+"I was saying my prayers here, the first night they met," she said, as
+if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I heard voices, as it
+seemed, under my feet. I tried to push away the stool, and the foot
+moved. That is all."
+
+Aristarchi's jaw dropped a little as he looked up at her.
+
+"Do you say prayers every night?" he asked in wonder.
+
+"Of course I do. Do you never say a prayer?"
+
+"No." He was still staring at her.
+
+"That is very wrong," she said, in the earnest tone a mother might use
+to her little child. "Some harm will befall us, if you do not say your
+prayers."
+
+A slow smile crossed the ruffian's face as he realised that this evil
+woman who was ready to commit the most atrocious deeds out of love for
+him, was still half a child.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+Marietta awoke before sunrise, with a smile on her lips, and as she
+opened her eyes, the world seemed suddenly gladder than ever before, and
+her heart beat in time with it. She threw back the shutters wide to let
+in the June morning as if it were a beautiful living thing; and it
+breathed upon her face and caressed her, and took her in its spirit
+arms, and filled her with itself.
+
+Not a sound broke the stillness, as she looked out, and the glassy
+waters of the canal reflected delicate tints from the sky, palest green
+and faintest violet and amber with all the lovely changing colours of
+the dawn. By the footway a black barge was moored, piled high with round
+uncovered baskets of beads, white, blue, deep red and black, waiting to
+be taken over to Venice where they would be threaded for the East, and
+the colours stood out in strong contrast with the grey stones, the faint
+reflections in the water and the tender sky above. There were flowers on
+the window-sill, a young rose with opening buds, growing in a red
+earthen jar, and a pot of lavender just bursting into flower, with a
+sweet geranium beside it and some rosemary. Zorzi had planted them all
+for her, and her serving-woman had helped her to fasten the pots in the
+window, because it would have been out of the question that any man
+except her father should enter her room, even when she was not there.
+But they were Zorzi's flowers, and she bent down and smelt their
+fragrance. On a table behind her a single rose hung over the edge of a
+tall glass with a slender stem, almost the counterpart of the one in
+which Contarini had drunk her health at midnight. Her father had given
+it to her as it came from the annealing oven, still warm after long
+hours of cooling with many others like it. She loved it for its grace
+and lightness, and as for the rose, it was the one she had made Zorzi
+give back to her yesterday. She meant to keep it in water till it faded,
+and then she would press it between the first page and the binding of
+her parchment missal. It would keep some of its faint scent, perhaps,
+and if any one saw it, no one would ever guess whence it came.
+
+It meant a great thing to her, for it had told her Zorzi's secret, which
+he had kept so well. He should know hers some day, but not yet, and her
+drooping lids could hide it if it ever came into her eyes. It was too
+soon to let him know that she loved him. That was one reason for hiding
+it, but she had another. If her father guessed that she loved the waif,
+it would fare ill with him. She fancied she could see the old man's
+fiery brown eyes and hear his angry voice. Poor Zorzi would be driven
+from Murano and Venice, never to set foot again within the boundaries of
+the Republic; for Beroviero was a man of weight and influence, of whom
+Venice was proud.
+
+Youth would be very sad if it counted time and labour as it is reckoned
+and valued by mature age. Some day Zorzi would be no longer a mere paid
+helper, calling himself a servant when his humour was bitter, tending a
+fire on his knees and grinding coloured earths and salts in a mortar. He
+had the understanding of the glorious art, and the true love of it, with
+the magic touch; he would make a name for himself in spite of the harsh
+Venetian law, and some day his master would be proud to call him son.
+There would not be many months to wait. Months or years, what mattered,
+since she loved him and was at last quite sure that he loved her?
+To-day, that was enough. She would go over to the glass-house and sit in
+the garden, by the rose he had planted, and now and then she would go
+into the close furnace room where he worked with her father, or Zorzi
+would come out for something; she should be near him, she should see his
+face and hear his quiet voice, and she would say to herself: He loves
+me, he loves me--as often as she chose, knowing that it was true.
+
+Since she knew it, she was sure that she should see it in his face, that
+had hidden it from her so long. There would be glances when he thought
+she was not watching him, his colour would come and go, as yesterday,
+and he would do her some little service, now and then, in which the
+sweet truth, against his will, should tell itself to her again and
+again. It would be a delicious and ever-remembered day, each minute a
+pearl, each hour a chaplet of jewels, from golden sunrise to golden
+sunset, all perfect through and through.
+
+There were so many little things she could watch in him, now that she
+knew the truth, things that had long meant nothing and would mean
+volumes to-day. She would watch him, and then call him suddenly and see
+him try to hide the little gladness he would feel as he turned to her;
+and when they were alone a moment, she would ask him whether he had
+remembered to forget Jacopo Contarini's name; and some day, but not for
+a long time yet, she would drop a rose again, and she would turn as he
+picked it up, but she would not make him give it back to her, and in
+that way he should know that she loved him. She must not think of that,
+for it was too soon, yet she could almost see his face as it would be
+when he knew.
+
+Yesterday her father had talked again of her marriage. A whole month had
+passed since he had even alluded to it, but this time he had spoken of
+it as a certainty; and she had opened her eyes wide in surprise. She did
+not believe that it was to be. How could she marry a man she did not
+love? How could she love any man but Zorzi? They might show her twenty
+Venetian patricians, that she might choose among them. Meanwhile she
+would show her indifference. Nothing was easier than to put on an
+inscrutable expression which betrayed nothing, but which, as she knew,
+sometimes irritated her father beyond endurance.
+
+He had always promised that she should not be married against her will,
+as many girls were. Then why should she marry Contarini, any more than
+any other man except the one she had chosen? She need only say that
+Contarini did not please her, and her father would certainly not try to
+use force. There was therefore nothing to fear, and since her first
+surprise was over, she felt sure of appearing quite indifferent. She
+would put the thought out of her mind and begin the day with the perfect
+certainty that the marriage was altogether impossible.
+
+She looked out over her flowers. The door of the glass-house was open
+now, and the burly porter was sweeping; she could hear the cypress broom
+on the flagstones inside, and presently it appeared in sight while the
+porter was still invisible, and it whisked out a mixture of black dust
+and bread crumbs and bits of green salad leaves, and the old man came
+out and swept everything across the footway into the canal. As he turned
+to go back, the workmen came trooping across the bridge to the
+furnaces--pale men with intent faces, very different from ordinary
+working people. For each called himself an artist, and was one; and each
+knew that so far as the law was concerned the proudest noble in Venice
+could marry his daughter without the least derogation from patrician
+dignity. The workmen differed from her own father not in station, but
+only in the degree of their prosperity.
+
+If Zorzi could ever have been one of them the rest would have been
+simple enough. But he could not, any more than a black man could turn
+white at will. There was no evasion of law by which a man not born a
+Venetian could ever be a glass-blower, or could ever acquire the
+privileges possessed from birth by one of those shabby, pale young men
+who were crowding past the porter to go to their hard day's work. Yet
+dexterous as they were, there was not one that had his skill, there was
+not one that could compare with him as an artist, as a workman, as a
+man. No Indian caste, no ancient nobility, no mystic priesthood ever set
+up a barrier so impassable between itself and the outer world as that
+which defended the glass-blowers of Murano for centuries against all who
+wished to be initiated. Even the boys who fed the fires all night were
+of the calling, and by and by would become workmen, and perhaps masters,
+legally almost the equals of the splendid nobles who sat in the Grand
+Council over there in Venice.
+
+Zorzi's very existence was an anomaly. He had no social right to be what
+he was, and he knew it when he called himself a servant, for the cruel
+law would not allow him to be anything else so long as he helped Angelo
+Beroviero.
+
+Suddenly, while Marietta watched the men, Zorzi was there among them,
+coming out as they went in. He must have risen early, she thought, for
+she did not know that he had slept in the laboratory. He looked pale and
+thin as he flattened himself against the door-post to let a workman
+pass, and then slipped out himself. No one greeted him, even by a nod.
+Marietta knew that they hated him because he was in her father's
+confidence; and somehow, instead of pitying him, she was glad.
+
+It seemed natural that he should not be one of them, that he should pass
+them with quiet indifference and that they should feel for him the
+instinctive dislike which most inferiors feel for those above them.
+Doubtless, they looked down upon him, or told themselves that they did;
+but in their hearts they knew that a man with such a face was born to be
+their teacher and their master, and the girl was proud of him. He
+treated them with more civility than they bestowed on him, but it was
+the courtesy of a superior who would not assert himself, who would scorn
+to thrust himself forward or in any way to claim what was his by right,
+if it were not freely offered. Marietta drew back a little, so that she
+could just see him between the flowers, without being seen.
+
+He stood still, looking down at the canal till the last of the men had
+passed in. Then, before he went on, he raised his eyes slowly to
+Marietta's window, not guessing that her own were answering his from
+behind the rosemary and the geranium. His pale face was very sad and
+thoughtful as he looked up. She had never seen him look so tired. The
+porter had shut the door, which he never allowed to remain open one
+moment longer than was absolutely necessary, and Zorzi stood quite alone
+on the footway. As he looked, his face softened and grew so tender that
+the girl who watched him unseen stretched out her arms towards him with
+unconscious yearning, and her heart beat very fast, so that she felt the
+pulses in her throat almost choking her; yet her face was pale and her
+soft lips were dry and cold. For it was not all happiness that she
+felt; there was a sweet mysterious pain with it, which was nowhere, and
+yet all through her, that was weakness and yet might turn to strength, a
+hunger of longing for something dear and unknown and divine, without
+which all else was an empty shadow. Then her eyes opened to him, as he
+had never seen them, blue as the depth of sapphires and dewy with love
+mists of youth's early spring; it was impossible that he should stand
+there, just beyond the narrow water, and not feel that she saw him and
+loved him, and that her heart was crying out the true words he never
+hoped to hear.
+
+But he did not know. And all at once his eyes fell, and she could almost
+see that he sighed as he turned wearily away and walked with bent head
+towards the wooden bridge. She would have given anything to look out and
+see him cross and come nearer, but she remembered that she was not yet
+dressed, and she blushed as she drew further back into the room,
+gathering the thin white linen up to her throat, and frightened at the
+mere thought that he should catch sight of her. She would not call her
+serving-woman yet, she would be alone a little while longer. She threw
+back her russet hair, and bent down to smell the rose in the tall glass.
+The sun was risen now and the first slanting beams shot sideways through
+her window from the right. The day that was to be so sweet had begun
+most sweetly. She had seen him already, far earlier than usual; she
+would see him many times before the little brown maid crossed the canal
+to bring her home in the evening.
+
+The thought put an end to her meditations, and she was suddenly in haste
+to be dressed, to be out of the house, to be sitting in the little
+garden of the glass-house where Zorzi must soon pass again. She called
+and clapped her hands, and her serving-woman entered from the outer room
+in which she slept. She brought a great painted earthenware dish, on
+which fruit was arranged, half of a small yellow melon fresh from the
+cool storeroom, a little heap of dark red cherries and a handful of ripe
+plums. There was white wheaten bread, too, and honey from Aquileia, in a
+little glass jar, and there was a goblet of cold water. The maid set the
+big dish on the table, beside the glass that held Zorzi's rose, and
+began to make ready her mistress's clothes.
+
+Marietta tasted the melon, and it was cool and aromatic, and she stood
+eating a slice of it, just where she could look through the flowers on
+the window-sill at the door of the glass-house, so that if Zorzi passed
+again she should see him. He did not come, and she was a little
+disappointed; but the melon was very good, and afterwards she ate a few
+cherries and spread a spoonful of honey on a piece of bread, and nibbled
+at it; and she drank some of the water, looking out of the window over
+the glass.
+
+"Was it always so beautiful?" she asked, speaking to herself, in a sort
+of wonder at what she felt, as she set the glass upon the table.
+
+Nella, the maid, turned quickly to her with a look of inquiry.
+
+"What?" she asked. "What is beautiful? The weather? It is summer! Of
+course it is fine. Did you expect the north wind to-day, or rain from
+the southwest?"
+
+Marietta laughed, sweet and low. The little maid always amused her.
+There was something cheerful in the queer little scolding sentences,
+spoken with a rising inflection on almost every word, musical and yet
+always seeming to protest gently against anything Marietta said.
+
+"I know of something much more beautiful than the weather," Nella added,
+seeing that she got no answer except a laugh. "Do you wish to know what
+is more beautiful than a summer's day?"
+
+"Oh, I know the answer to that!" cried Marietta. "You used to catch me
+in that way when I was a small girl."
+
+"Well, my little lady, what is the answer? I have said nothing."
+
+"What is more beautiful than a summer's day? Why, two summer's days, of
+course! I was always dreadfully disappointed when you gave me that
+answer, for I expected something wonderful."
+
+Nella shook her head as she unfolded the fine linen things, and uttered
+a sort of little clucking sound, meant to show her disapproval of such
+childish jests.
+
+"Tut, tut, tut! We are grown up now! Are we children? No, we are a young
+lady, beautiful and serious! Tut, tut, tut! That you should remember
+the nonsense I used to talk to make you stop crying for your mother,
+blessed soul! And I myself was so full of tears that a drop of water
+would have drowned me! But all passes, praise be to God!"
+
+"I hope not," said Marietta, but so low that the woman did not hear.
+
+"I will ask you a riddle," continued Nella presently.
+
+"Oh no!" laughed Marietta. "I could no more guess a riddle to-day than I
+could give a dissertation on theology. Riddles are for rainy days in
+winter, when we sit by the fire in the evening wishing it were morning
+again. I know the great riddle at last--I have found it out. It is the
+most beautiful thing in the world."
+
+"Then it is true," observed Nella, looking at her with satisfaction.
+
+"What?" asked the young girl carelessly.
+
+"That you are to be married."
+
+"I hope so," answered Marietta. "Some day, but there is time
+yet--perhaps a very long time."
+
+"As long as it will take to make a wedding gown embroidered with gold
+and pearls. Not a day longer than that." Nella looked very wise and
+watched her mistress's face.
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"The master has ordered just such a gown. That is what I mean. Do you
+think I would talk of such a beautiful thing, just to make you unhappy,
+if you were not to have one? But you will not forget poor Nella, my
+little lady? You will take me with you to Venice?"
+
+"Then you think I am to marry some one from the city? What is his name?"
+
+"The master knows. That is enough. But it must be the Doge's son, or at
+least the son of the Admiral of Venice. It will take two months to
+embroider the gown. That means that you are to be married in August, of
+course."
+
+"Do you think so?" asked Marietta indifferently.
+
+"I know it." And Nella gave a discontented little snort, for she did not
+like to have her conclusions questioned. "Am I half-witted? Am I in my
+dotage? Am I an imbecile? The gown is ordered, and that is the truth. Do
+you think the master has ordered a wedding gown embroidered with gold
+and pearls for himself?"
+
+Marietta tossed her hair back and shook it down her shoulders, laughing
+gaily at the idea.
+
+"Ah!" cried Nella indignantly. "Now you are mocking me! You are making a
+laughing-stock of your poor Nella! It is too bad! But you will be sorry
+that you laughed at me, when I am not here to bring you melons and
+cherries and tell you the news in the morning! You will say: 'Poor
+Nella! She was not such an ignorant person after all!' That is what you
+will say. I tell you that if your father orders a wedding gown, you are
+the only person in the house who can wear it, and he would not order it
+just to see how beautiful you would be as a bride! He is a serious man,
+the master, he is grave, he is wise! He does nothing without much
+reflection, and what he does is well done. He says, 'My daughter is to
+be married, therefore I will order a splendid dress for her.' That is
+what he says, and he orders it."
+
+"That has an air of reason," said Marietta gravely. "I did not mean to
+laugh at you."
+
+"Oh, very well! If you thought your father unreasonable, what should I
+say? He does not say one thing and do another, your father. And I will
+tell you something. They will make the gown even handsomer than he
+ordered it, because he is very rich, and he will grumble and scold, but
+in the end he will pay, for the honour of the house. Then you will wear
+the gown, and all Venice will see you in it on your wedding day."
+
+"That will be a great thing for the Venetians," observed the young girl,
+trying not to smile.
+
+"They will see that there are rich men in Murano, too. It will be a
+lesson for their intolerable vanity."
+
+"Are the Venetians so very vain?"
+
+"Well! Was not my husband a Venetian, blessed soul? It seems to me that
+I should know. Have I forgotten how he would fasten a cock's feather in
+his cap, almost like a gentleman, and hang his cloak over one shoulder,
+and pull up his hose till they almost cracked, so as to show off his
+leg? Ah, he had handsome legs, my poor Vito, and he never would use
+anything but pure beeswax to stiffen his mustaches. No, he never would
+use tallow. He was almost like a gentleman!"
+
+Nella's little brown eyes were moist as she recalled her husband's small
+vanities; his dislike of tallow as a cosmetic seemed to affect her
+particularly.
+
+"That is why I say that it will be a lesson to the pride of those
+Venetians to see your marriage," she resumed, after drying her eyes with
+the back of her hand. "And the people of Murano will be there, and all
+the glass-blowers in their guild, since the master is the head of it. I
+suppose Zorzi will manage to be there, too."
+
+Nella spoke the last words in a tone of disapproval.
+
+"Why should Zorzi not be at my wedding?" asked Marietta carelessly.
+
+"Why should he?" asked the serving-woman with unusual bluntness. "But I
+daresay the master will find something for him to do. He is clever
+enough at doing anything."
+
+"Yes--he is clever," assented the young girl. "Why do you not like him?
+Give me some more water--you are always afraid that I shall use too
+much!"
+
+"I have a conscience," grumbled Nella. "The water is brought from far,
+it is paid for, it costs money, we must not use too much of it. Every
+day the boats come with it, and the row of earthen jars in the court is
+filled, and your father pays--he always pays, and pays, and pays, till I
+wonder where the money all comes from. They say he makes gold, over
+there in the furnace."
+
+"He makes glass," answered Marietta. "And if he orders gowns for me
+with pearls and gold, he will not grudge me a jug of water. Why do you
+dislike Zorzi?"
+
+"He is as proud as a marble lion, and as obstinate as a Lombardy mule,"
+explained Nella, with fine imagery. "If that is not enough to make one
+dislike a young man, you shall tell me so! But one of those days he will
+fall. There is trouble for the proud."
+
+"How does his great pride show itself?" asked Marietta. "I have not
+noticed it."
+
+"That would indeed be the end of everything, if he showed his pride to
+you!" Nella was much displeased by the mere suggestion. "But with us it
+is different. He never speaks to the other workmen."
+
+"They never speak to him."
+
+"And quite right, too, since he holds his head so high, with no reason
+at all! But it will not last for ever! I wonder what the master would
+think, for instance, if he knew that Zorzi takes the skiff in the
+evening, and rows himself over to Venice, all alone, and comes back long
+after midnight, and sleeps in the glass-house across the way because he
+cannot get into the house. Zorzi! Zorzi! The master cannot move without
+Zorzi! And where is Zorzi at night? At home and in bed, like a decent
+young man? No. Zorzi is away in Venice, heaven knows where, doing heaven
+knows what! Do you wonder that he is so pale and tired in the morning?
+It seems to me quite natural. Eh? What do you think, my pretty lady?"
+
+Marietta was silent for a moment. It was only a servant's spiteful
+gossip, but it hurt her.
+
+"Are you sure that he goes to Venice alone at night?" she asked, after a
+little pause.
+
+"Am I sure that I live, that I belong to you, and that my name is Nella?
+Is not the boat moored under my window? Did I not hear the chain
+rattling softly last night? I got up and looked out, and I saw Zorzi, as
+I see you, taking the padlock off. I am not blind--praise be to heaven,
+I see. He turned the boat to the left, so he must have been going to
+Venice, and it was at least an hour after the midnight bells when I
+heard the chain again, and I looked out, and there he was. But he did
+not come into the house. And this morning I saw him coming out of the
+glass-house, just as the men went in. He was as pale as a boiled
+chicken."
+
+Marietta had seen him, too, and the coincidence gave colour to the rest
+of the woman's tale, as would have happened if the whole story had been
+an invention instead of being quite true. Nella was combing the girl's
+thick hair, an operation peculiarly conducive to a maid's chattering,
+for she has the certainty that her mistress cannot get away, and must
+therefore listen patiently.
+
+A shadow had fallen on the brightness of Marietta's morning. She was
+paler, too, but she said nothing.
+
+"Of course he was tired," continued Nella. "Did you suppose that he
+would come back with pink cheeks and bright eyes, like a baby from
+baptism, after being out half the night?"
+
+"He is always pale," said Marietta.
+
+"Because he goes to Venice every night," retorted Nella viciously. "That
+is the good reason! Oh, I am sure of it! And besides, I shall watch him,
+now that I know. I shall see him whenever he takes the boat."
+
+"It is none of your business where he goes," answered Marietta. "It does
+not concern any one but himself."
+
+"Oh, indeed!" sneered Nella. "Then the honour of the house does not
+matter! It is no concern of ours! And your father need never know that
+his trusty servant, his clever assistant, his faithful confidant, who
+shares all his secrets, is a good-for-nothing fellow who spends his
+nights in gambling, or drinking, or perhaps in making love to some
+Venetian girl as honourable and well behaved as himself!"
+
+Marietta had grown steadily more angry while Nella was talking. She had
+her father's temper, though she could control it better than he.
+
+"I will find out whether this story is true," she said coldly. "If it is
+not, it will be the worse for you. You shall not serve me any longer,
+unless you can be more careful in what you say."
+
+Nella's jaw dropped and her hands stood still and trembled, the one
+holding the comb upraised, the other gathering a quantity of her
+mistress's hair. Marietta had never spoken to her like this in her life.
+
+"Send me away?" faltered the woman in utter amazement. "Send me away!"
+she repeated, still quite dazed. "But it is impossible--" her voice
+began to break, as if some one were shaking her violently by the
+shoulders. "Oh no, no! You w-ill n-ot--no-o-o!"
+
+The sound grew more piercing as she went on, and the words were soon
+lost, as she broke into a violent fit of hysterical crying.
+
+Marietta's anger subsided as her pity for the poor creature increased.
+She had made a great effort to speak quietly and not to say more than
+she meant, and she had certainly not expected to produce such a
+tremendous commotion. Nella tore her hair, drew her nails down her
+cheeks, as if she would tear them with scratches, rocked herself
+forwards and backwards and from side to side, the tears poured down her
+brown cheeks, she screamed and blubbered and whimpered in quick
+alternation, and in a few moments tumbled into the corner of a big
+chair, a sobbing and convulsed little heap of womanhood.
+
+Marietta tried to quiet her, and was so sorry for her that she could
+almost have cried too, until she remembered the detestable things which
+Nella had said about Zorzi, and which the woman's screams had driven out
+of her memory for an instant. Then she longed to beat her for saying
+them, and still Nella alternately moaned and howled, and twisted herself
+in the corner of the big chair. Marietta wondered whether her servant
+were going mad, and whether this might not be a judgment of heaven for
+telling such atrocious lies about poor Zorzi. In that case it was of
+course deserved, thought she, watching Nella's contortions; but it was
+very sudden.
+
+She made up her mind to call the other women, and turned to go to the
+door. As she did so her skirt caught a comb that lay on the edge of the
+table and swept it off, so that it fell upon the pavement with a dry
+rap. Instantly Nella sat up straight and rubbed her eyes, looking about
+for the cause of the sound. When she saw the comb, the serving-woman's
+instinct returned, and with it her normal condition of mind. She picked
+up the comb with a quick movement, shook her head and began combing
+Marietta's hair again before the girl could sit down.
+
+Peace was restored, for she did not speak again, as she helped her
+mistress to finish dressing; but though Marietta tried to look kindly at
+her once or twice, Nella quite refused to see it, and did her duty
+without ever raising her eyes.
+
+It was soon finished, for the pleasure the young girl had taken in
+making much of the first details of the day that was to be so happy was
+all gone. She did not believe her woman, but there was a cloud over
+everything and she was in haste to get an answer to the question which
+it would not be easy to ask. She must know if Zorzi had been to Venice
+during the night, for until she knew that, all hope of peace was at an
+end. Nella had meant no harm, but she had played the fatal little part
+in which destiny loves to go masking through life's endless play.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+Zorzi had slept but little after he had at last lain down upon the long
+bench in the laboratory, for the scene in which he had been the chief
+actor that night had made a profound impression upon him. There are some
+men who would not make good soldiers but who can face sudden and
+desperate danger with a calmness which few soldiers really possess, and
+which is generally accompanied by some marked superiority of mind; but
+such exceptional natures feel the reaction that follows the perilous
+moment far more than the average fighting man. They are those who
+sometimes stem the rush of panic and turn back whole armies from ruin to
+victorious battle; they are those who spring forward from the crowd to
+save life when some terrible accident has happened, as if they were
+risking nothing, and who generally succeed in what they attempt; but
+they are not men who learn to fight every day as carelessly and
+naturally as they eat, drink or sleep. Their chance of action may come
+but once or twice in a lifetime; yet when it comes it finds them far
+more ready and cool than the average good soldier could ever be. Like
+strength in some men, their courage seems to depend on quality and very
+little on quantity, training or experience.
+
+Zorzi knew very well that although the young gentlemen who were playing
+at conspiracy in Jacopo's house did not constitute a serious danger to
+the Republic, they were fully aware of their own peril, and would not
+have hesitated to take his life if it had not occurred to them that he
+might be useful. His intrepid manner had saved him, but now that the
+night was over he felt such a weariness and lassitude as he had never
+known before.
+
+The adventure had its amusing side, of course. To Zorzi, who knew the
+people well, it was very laughable to think that a score of dissolute
+young patricians should first fancy themselves able to raise a
+revolution against the most firmly established government in Europe, and
+should then squander the privacy which they had bought at a frightful
+risk in mere gambling and dice-playing. But there was nothing humorous
+about the oath he had taken. In the first place, it had been sworn in
+solemn earnest, and was therefore binding upon him; secondly, if he
+broke it, his life would not be worth a day's purchase. He was brave
+enough to have scorned the second consideration, but he was far too
+honourable to try and escape the first. He had made the promises to save
+his life, it was true, and under great pressure, but he would have
+despised himself as a coward if he had not meant to keep them.
+
+And he had solemnly bound himself to respect "the betrothed brides" of
+all the brethren of the company. Marietta was not betrothed to Jacopo
+Contarini yet, but there was no doubt that she would be before many
+days; to "respect" undoubtedly meant that he must not try to win her
+away from her affianced husband; if he had ever dreamt that in some
+fair, fantastically improbable future, Marietta could be his wife, he
+had parted with the right to dream the like again. Therefore, when he
+had stood awhile looking up at her window that morning, he sighed
+heavily and went away.
+
+He had never had any hope that she would love him, much less that he
+could ever marry her, yet he felt that he was parting with the only
+thing in life which he held higher than his art, and that the parting
+was final. For months, perhaps for years, he had never closed his eyes
+to sleep without calling up her face and repeating her name, he had
+never got up in the morning without looking forward to seeing her and
+hearing her voice before he should lie down again. A man more like
+others would have said to himself that no promise could bind him to
+anything more than the performance of an action, or the abstention from
+one, and that the right of dreaming was his own for ever. But Zorzi
+judged differently. He had a sensitiveness that was rather manly than
+masculine; he had scruples of which he was not ashamed, but which most
+men would laugh at; he had delicacies of conscience in his most private
+thoughts such as would have been more natural in a cloistered nun,
+living in ignorance of the world, than in a waif who had faced it at its
+worst, and almost from childhood. Innocent as his dream had been, he
+resolved to part with it, and never to dream it again. He was glad that
+Marietta had taken back the rose he had picked up yesterday; if she had
+not, he would have forced himself to throw it away, and that would have
+hurt him.
+
+So he began his day in a melancholy mood, as having buried out of sight
+for ever something that was very dear to him. In time, his love of his
+art would fill the place of the other love, but on this first day he
+went about in silence, with hungry eyes and tightened lips, like a man
+who is starving and is too proud to ask a charity.
+
+He waited for Beroviero at the door of his house, as he did every
+morning, to attend him to the laboratory. The old man looked at him
+inquiringly, and Zorzi bent his head a little to explain that he had
+done what had been required of him, and he followed his master across
+the wooden bridge. When they were alone in the laboratory, he told as
+much of his story as was necessary.
+
+He had found the lord Jacopo Contarini at his house with a party of
+friends, he said, and he added at once that they were all men. Contarini
+had bidden him speak before them all, but he had whispered his message
+so that only Contarini should hear it. After a time he had been allowed
+to come away. No--Contarini had given no direct answer, he had sent no
+reply; he had only said aloud to his friends that the message he
+received was expected. That was all. The friends who were there? Zorzi
+answered with perfect truth that he did not remember to have seen, any
+of them before.
+
+Beroviero was silent for a while, considering the story.
+
+"He would have thought it discourteous to leave his friends," he said at
+last, "or to whisper an answer to a messenger in their presence. He said
+that he had expected the message, he will therefore come."
+
+To this Zorzi answered nothing, for he was glad not to be questioned
+further about what had happened. Presently Beroviero settled to his work
+with his usual concentration. For many months he had been experimenting
+in the making of fine red glass of a certain tone, of which he had
+brought home a small fragment from one of his journeys. Hitherto he had
+failed in every attempt. He had tried one mixture after another, and had
+produced a score of different specimens, but not one of them had that
+marvellous light in it, like sunshine striking through bright blood,
+which he was striving to obtain. It was nearly three weeks since his
+small furnace had been allowed to go out, and by this time he alone knew
+what the glowing pots contained, for he wrote down very carefully what
+he did and in characters which he believed no one could understand but
+himself.
+
+As usual every morning, he proceeded to make trial of the materials
+fused in the night. The furnace, though not large, held three crucibles,
+before each of which was the opening, still called by the Italian name
+'bocca,' through which the materials are put into the pots to melt into
+glass, and by which the melted glass is taken out on the end of the
+blow-pipe, or in a copper ladle, when it is to be tested by casting it.
+The furnace was arched from end to end, and about the height of a tall
+man; the working end was like a round oven with three glowing openings;
+the straight part, some twenty feet long, contained the annealing oven
+through which the finished pieces were made to move slowly, on iron
+lier-pans, during many hours, till the glass had passed from extreme
+heat almost to the temperature of the air. The most delicate vessels
+ever produced in Murano have all been made in single furnaces, the
+materials being melted, converted into glass and finally annealed, by
+one fire. At least one old furnace is standing and still in use, which
+has existed for centuries, and those made nowadays are substantially
+like it in every important respect.
+
+Zorzi stood holding a long-handled copper ladle, ready to take out a
+specimen of the glass containing the ingredients most lately added. A
+few steps from the furnace a thick and smooth plate of iron was placed
+on a heavy wooden table, and upon this the liquid glass was to be poured
+out to cool.
+
+"It must be time," said Beroviero, "unless the boys forgot to turn the
+sand-glass at one of the watches. The hour is all but run out, and it
+must be the twelfth since I put in the materials."
+
+"I turned it myself, an hour after midnight," said Zorzi, "and also the
+next time, when it was dawn. It runs three hours. Judging by the time of
+sunrise it is running right."
+
+"Then make the trial."
+
+Beroviero stood opposite Zorzi, his face pale with heat and excitement,
+his fiery eyes reflecting the fierce light from the 'bocca' as he bent
+down to watch the copper ladle go in. Zorzi had wrapped a cloth round
+his right hand, against the heat, and he thrust the great spoon through
+the round orifice. Though it was the hundredth time of testing, the old
+man watched his movements with intensest interest.
+
+"Quickly, quickly!" he cried, quite unconscious that he was speaking.
+
+There was no need of hurrying Zorzi. In two steps he had reached the
+table, and the white hot stuff spread out over the iron plate, instantly
+turning to a greenish yellow, then to a pale rose-colour, then to a deep
+and glowing red, as it felt the cool metal. The two men stood watching
+it closely, for it was thin and would soon cool. Zorzi was too wise to
+say anything. Beroviero's look of interest gradually turned into an
+expression of disappointment.
+
+"Another failure," he said, with a resignation which no one would have
+expected in such a man.
+
+His practised eyes had guessed the exact hue of the glass, while it
+still lay on the iron, half cooled and far too hot to touch. Zorzi took
+a short rod and pushed the round sheet till a part of it was over the
+edge of the table.
+
+"It is the best we have had yet," he observed, looking at it.
+
+"Is it?" asked Beroviero with little interest, and without giving the
+glass another glance. "It is not what I am trying to get. It is the
+colour of wine, not of blood. Make something, Zorzi, while I write down
+the result of the experiment."
+
+He took big pen and the sheet of rough paper on which he had already
+noted the proportions of the materials, and he began to write, sitting
+at the large table before the open window. Zorzi took the long iron
+blow-pipe, cleaned it with a cloth and pushed the end through the
+orifice from which he had taken the specimen. He drew it back with a
+little lump of melted glass sticking to it.
+
+Holding the blow-pipe to his lips, he blew a little, and the lump
+swelled, and he swung the pipe sharply in a circle, so that the glass
+lengthened to the shape of a pear, and he blew again and it grew. At the
+'bocca' of the furnace he heated it, for it was cooling quickly; and he
+had his iron pontil ready, as there was no one to help him, and he
+easily performed the feat of taking a little hot glass on it from the
+pot and attaching it to the further end of the fast-cooling pear. If
+Beroviero had been watching him he would have been astonished at the
+skill with which the young man accomplished what it requires two persons
+to do; but Zorzi had tricks of his own, and the pontil supported itself
+on a board while he cracked the pear from the blow-pipe with a wet iron,
+as well as if a boy had held it in place for him; and then heating and
+reheating the piece, he fashioned it and cut it with tongs and shears,
+rolling the pontil on the flat arms of his stool with his left hand,
+and modelling the glass with his right, till at last he let it cool to
+its natural colour, holding it straight downward, and then swinging it
+slowly, so that it should fan itself in the air. It was a graceful calix
+now, of a deep wine red, clear and transparent as claret.
+
+Zorzi turned to the window to show it to his master, not for the sake of
+the workmanship but of the colour. The old man's head was bent over his
+writing; Marietta was standing outside, and her eyes met Zorzi's. He did
+not blush as he had blushed yesterday, when he looked up from the fire
+and saw her; he merely inclined his head respectfully, to acknowledge
+her presence, and then he stood by the table waiting for the master to
+notice him, and not bestowing another glance on the young girl.
+
+Beroviero turned to him at last. He was so used to Marietta's presence
+that he paid no attention to her.
+
+"What is that thing?" he asked contemptuously.
+
+"A specimen of the glass we tried," answered the young man. "I have
+blown it thin to show the colour."
+
+"A man who can have such execrable taste as to make a drinking-cup of
+coloured glass does not deserve to know as much as you do."
+
+"But it is very pretty," said Marietta through the window, and bending
+forward she rested her white hands on the table, among the little heaps
+of chemicals. "Anneal it, and give it to me," she added.
+
+"Keep such a thing in my house?" asked Beroviero scornfully. "Break up
+that rubbish!" he added roughly, speaking to Zorzi.
+
+Without a word Zorzi smashed the calix off the iron into an old earthen
+jar already half full of broken glass. Then he put the pontil in its
+place and went to tend the fire. Marietta left the window and entered
+the room.
+
+"Am I disturbing you?" she asked gently, as she stood by her father.
+
+"No. I have finished writing." He laid down his pen.
+
+"Another failure?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Perhaps I do not bring you good luck with your experiments," suggested
+the girl, leaning down and looking over his shoulder at the crabbed
+writing, so that her cheek almost touched his. "Is that why you wish to
+send me away?"
+
+Beroviero turned in his chair, raised his heavy brows and looked up into
+her face, but said nothing.
+
+"Nella has just told me that you have ordered my wedding gown,"
+continued Marietta.
+
+"We are not alone," said her father in a low voice.
+
+"Zorzi probably knows what is the gossip of the house, and what I have
+been the last to hear," answered the young girl. "Besides, you trust him
+with all your secrets."
+
+"Yes, I trust him," assented Beroviero. "But these are private
+matters."
+
+"So private, that my serving-woman knows more of them than I do."
+
+"You encourage her to talk."
+
+Marietta laughed, for she was determined to be good-humoured, in spite
+of what she said.
+
+"If I did, that would not teach her things which I do not know myself!
+Is it true that you have ordered the gown to be embroidered with
+pearls?"
+
+"You like pearls, do you not?" asked Beroviero with a little anxiety.
+
+"You see!" cried Marietta triumphantly. "Nella knows all about it."
+
+"I was going to tell you this morning," said her father in a tone of
+annoyance. "By my faith, one can keep nothing secret! One cannot even
+give you a surprise."
+
+"Nella knows everything," returned the girl, sitting on the corner of
+the table and looking from her father to Zorzi. "That must be why you
+chose her for my serving-woman when I was a little girl. She knows all
+that happens in the house by day and night, so that I sometimes think
+she never sleeps."
+
+Zorzi looked furtively towards the table, for he could not help hearing
+all that was said.
+
+"For instance," continued Marietta, watching him, "she knows that last
+night some one unlocked the chain that moors the skiff, and rowed away
+towards Venice."
+
+To her surprise Zorzi showed no embarrassment. He had made up the fire
+and now sat down at a little distance, on one of the flat arms of the
+glass-blower's working-stool. His face was pale and quiet, and his eyes
+did not avoid hers.
+
+"If I caught any one using my boat without my leave, I would make him
+pay dear," said Beroviero, but without anger, as if he were stating a
+general truth.
+
+"Whoever it was who took the boat brought it back an hour after
+midnight, locked the padlock again and went away," said Marietta.
+
+"Tell Nella that I am much indebted to her for her watchfulness. She is
+as good as a house-dog. Tell her to come and wake me if she sees any one
+taking the boat again."
+
+"She says she knows who took it last night," observed Marietta, who was
+puzzled by the attitude of the two men; she had now decided that it had
+not been Zorzi who had used the boat, but on the other hand the story
+did not rouse her father's anger as she had expected.
+
+"Did she tell you the man's name?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Who was it?"
+
+"She said it was Zorzi." Marietta laughed incredulously as she spoke,
+and Zorzi smiled quietly.
+
+Beroviero was silent for a moment and looked out of the window.
+
+"Listen to me," he said at last. "Tell your graceless gossip of a
+serving-woman that I will answer for Zorzi, and that the next time she
+hears any one taking the boat at night she had better come and call me,
+and open her eyes a little wider. Tell her also that I entertain proper
+persons to take care of my property without any help from her. Tell her
+furthermore that she talks too much. You should not listen to a
+servant's miserable chatter."
+
+"I will tell her," replied Marietta meekly. "Did you say that the gown
+was to be embroidered with pearls and silver, father, or with pearls and
+gold?"
+
+"I believe I said gold," answered the old man discontentedly.
+
+"And when will it be ready? In about two months?"
+
+"I daresay."
+
+"So you mean to marry me in two months," concluded Marietta. "That is
+not a long time."
+
+"Should you prefer two years?" inquired Beroviero with increasing
+annoyance. Marietta slipped from the table to her feet.
+
+"It depends on the bridegroom," she answered. "Perhaps I may prefer to
+wait a lifetime!" She moved towards the door.
+
+"Oh, you shall be satisfied with the bridegroom! I promise you that."
+The old man looked after her. At the door she turned her head, smiling.
+
+"I may be hard to please," she said quietly, and she went out into the
+garden.
+
+When she was gone Beroviero shut the window carefully, and though the
+round bull's-eye panes let in the light plentifully, they effectually
+prevented any one from seeing into the room. The door was already
+closed.
+
+"You should have been more careful," he said to Zorzi in a tone of
+reproach. "You should not have let any one see you, when you took the
+boat."
+
+"If the woman spent half the night looking out of her window, sir, I do
+not understand how I could have taken the boat without being seen by
+her."
+
+"Well, well, there is no harm done, and you could not help it, I
+daresay. I have something else to say. You saw the lord Jacopo last
+night; what do you think of him? He is a fine-looking young man. Should
+not any girl be glad to get such a handsome husband? What do you think?
+And his name, too! one of the best in the Great Council. They say he has
+a few debts, but his father is very rich, and has promised me that he
+will pay everything if only his son can be brought to marry and lead a
+graver life. What do you think?"
+
+"He is a very handsome young man," said Zorzi loyally. "What should I
+think? It is a most honourable marriage for your house."
+
+"I hear no great harm of Jacopo," continued Beroviero more familiarly.
+"His father is miserly. We have spent much time in the preliminary
+arrangements, without the knowledge of the son, and the old man is very
+grasping! He would take all my fortune for the dowry if he could. But he
+has to do with a glass-blower!"
+
+Beroviero smiled thoughtfully. Zorzi was silent, for he was suffering.
+
+"You may wonder why I sent that message last night," began the master
+again, "since matters are already so far settled with Jacopo's father.
+You would suppose that nothing more remained but to marry the couple in
+the presence of both families, should you not?"
+
+"I know little of such affairs, sir," answered Zorzi.
+
+"That would be the usual way," continued Beroviero. "But I will not
+marry Marietta against her will. I have always told her so. She shall
+see her future husband before she is betrothed, and persuade herself
+with her own eyes that she is not being deceived into marrying a
+hunchback."
+
+"But supposing that after all the lord Jacopo should not be to her
+taste," suggested Zorzi, "would you break off the match?"
+
+"Break off the match?" cried Beroviero indignantly. "Never! Not to her
+taste? The handsomest man in Venice, with a great name and a fortune to
+come? It would not be my fault if the girl went mad and refused! I would
+make her like him if she dared to hesitate a moment!"
+
+"Even against her will?"
+
+"She has no will in the matter," retorted Beroviero angrily.
+
+"But you have always told her that you would not marry her against her
+will--"
+
+"Do not anger me, Zorzi! Do not try your specious logic with me! Invent
+no absurd arguments, man! Against her will, indeed? How should she know
+any will but mine in the matter? I shall certainly not marry her
+against her will! She shall will what I please, neither more nor less."
+
+"If that is your point of view," said Zorzi, "there is no room for
+argument."
+
+"Of course not. Any reasonable person would laugh at the idea that a
+girl in her senses should not be glad to marry Jacopo Contarini,
+especially after having seen him. If she were not glad, she would not be
+in her senses, in other words she would not be sane, and should be
+treated as a lunatic, for her own good. Would you let a lunatic do as he
+liked, if he tried to jump out of the window? The mere thought is
+absurd."
+
+"Quite," said Zorzi.
+
+Sad as he was, he could almost have laughed at the old man's
+inconsequent speeches.
+
+"I am glad that you so heartily agree with me," answered Beroviero in
+perfect sincerity. "I do not mean to say that I would ask your opinion
+about my daughter's marriage. You would not expect that. But I know that
+I can trust you, for we have worked together a long time, and I am used
+to hearing what you have to say."
+
+"You have always been very good to me," replied Zorzi gratefully.
+
+"You have always been faithful to me," said the old man, laying his hand
+gently on Zorzi's shoulder. "I know what that means in this world."
+
+As soon as there was no question of opposing his despotic will, his
+kindly nature asserted itself, for he was a man subject to quick
+changes of humour, but in reality affectionate.
+
+"I am going to trust you much more than hitherto," he continued. "My
+sons are grown men, independent of me, but willing to get from me all
+they can. If they were true artists, if I could trust their taste, they
+should have had my secrets long ago. But they are mere money-makers, and
+it is better that they should enrich themselves with the tasteless
+rubbish they make in their furnaces, than degrade our art by cheapening
+what should be rare and costly. Am I right?"
+
+"Indeed you are!" Zorzi now spoke in a tone of real conviction.
+
+"If I thought you were really capable of making coloured drinking-cups
+like that abominable object you made this morning, with the idea that
+they could ever be used, you should not stay on Venetian soil a day,"
+resumed the old man energetically. "You would be as bad as my sons, or
+worse. Even they have enough sense to know that half the beauty of a
+cup, when it is used, lies in the colour of the wine itself, which must
+be seen through it. But I forgive you, because you were only anxious to
+blow the glass thin, in order to show me the tint. You know better. That
+is why I mean to trust you in a very grave matter."
+
+Zorzi bent his head respectfully, but said nothing.
+
+"I am obliged to make a journey before my daughter's marriage takes
+place," continued Beroviero. "I shall entrust to you the manuscript
+secrets I possess. They are in a sealed package so that you cannot read
+them, but they will be in your care. If I leave them with any one else,
+my sons will try to get possession of them while I am away. During my
+last journey I carried them with me, but I am growing old, life is
+uncertain, especially when a man is travelling, and I would rather leave
+the packet with you. It will be safer."
+
+"It shall be altogether safe," said Zorzi. "No one shall guess that I
+have it."
+
+"No one must know. I would take you with me on this journey, but I wish
+you to go on with the experiments I have been making. We shall save
+time, if you try some of the mixtures while I am away. When it is too
+hot, let the furnace go out."
+
+"But who will take charge of your daughter, sir?" asked Zorzi. "You
+cannot leave her alone in the house."
+
+"My son Giovanni and his wife will live in my house while I am away. I
+have thought of everything. If you choose, you may bring your belongings
+here, and sleep and eat in the glass-house."
+
+"I should prefer it."
+
+"So should I. I do not want my sons to pry into what we are doing. You
+can hide the packet here, where they will not think of looking for it.
+When you go out, lock the door. When you are in, Giovanni will not come.
+You will have the place to yourself, and the boys who feed the fire at
+night will not disturb you. Of course my daughter will never come here
+while I am away. You will be quite alone."
+
+"When do you go?" asked Zorzi.
+
+"On Monday morning. On Sunday I shall take Marietta to Saint Mark's.
+When she has seen her husband the betrothal can take place at once."
+
+Zorzi was silent, for the future looked black enough. He already saw
+himself shut up in the glass-house for two long months, or not much
+less, as effectually separated from Marietta by the narrow canal as if
+an ocean were between them. She would never cross over and spend an hour
+in the little garden then, and she would be under the care of Giovanni
+Beroviero, who hated him, as he well knew.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+Aristarchi rose early, though it had been broad dawn when he had entered
+his home. He lived not far from the house of the Agnus Dei, on the
+opposite side of the same canal but beyond the Baker's Bridge. His house
+was small and unpretentious, a little wooden building in two stories,
+with a small door opening to the water and another at the back, giving
+access to a patch of dilapidated and overgrown garden, whence a second
+door opened upon a dismal and unsavoury alley. One faithful man, who had
+followed him through many adventures, rendered him such services as he
+needed, prepared the food he liked and guarded the house in his absence.
+The fellow was far too much in awe of his terrible master to play the
+spy or to ask inopportune questions.
+
+The Greek put on the rich dress of a merchant captain of his own people,
+the black coat, thickly embroidered with gold, the breeches of dark blue
+cloth, the almost transparent linen shirt, open at the throat. A large
+blue cap of silk and cloth was set far back on his head, showing all the
+bony forehead, and his coal-black beard and shaggy hair had been combed
+as smooth as their shaggy nature would allow. He wore a magnificent
+belt fully two hands wide, in which were stuck three knives of
+formidable length and breadth, in finely chased silver sheaths. His
+muscular legs were encased in leathern gaiters, ornamented with gold and
+silver, and on his feet he wore broad turned-up slippers from
+Constantinople. The dress was much the same as that which the Turks had
+found there a few years earlier, and which they soon amalgamated with
+their own. It set off the captain's vast breadth of shoulder and massive
+limbs, and as he stepped into his hired boat the idlers at the
+water-stairs gazed upon him with an admiration of which he was well
+aware, for besides being very splendidly dressed he looked as if he
+could have swept them all into the canal with a turn of his hand.
+
+Without saying whither he was bound he directed the oarsman through the
+narrow channels until he reached the shallow lagoon. The boatman asked
+whither he should go.
+
+"To Murano," answered the Greek. "And keep over by Saint Michael's, for
+the tide is low."
+
+The boatman had already understood that his passenger knew Venice almost
+as well as he. The boat shot forward at a good rate under the bending
+oar, and in twenty minutes Aristarchi was at the entrance to the canal
+of San Piero and within sight of Beroviero's house.
+
+"Easy there," said the Greek, holding up his hand. "Do you know Murano
+well, my man?"
+
+"As well as Venice, sir."
+
+"Whose house is that, which has the upper story built on columns over
+the footway?"
+
+"It belongs to Messer Angelo Beroviero. His glass-house takes up all the
+left aide of the canal as far as the bridge."
+
+"And beyond the bridge I can see two new houses, on the same side. Whose
+are they?"
+
+"They belong to the two sons of Messer Angelo Beroviero, who have
+furnaces of their own, all the way to the corner of the Grand Canal."
+
+"Is there a Grand Canal in Murano?" asked Aristarchi.
+
+"They call it so," answered the boatman with some contempt. "The
+Beroviero have several houses on it, too."
+
+"It seems to me that Beroviero owns most of Murano," observed the Greek.
+"He must be very rich."
+
+"He is by far the richest. But there is Alvise Trevisan, a rich man,
+too, and there are two or three others. The island and all the
+glass-works are theirs, amongst them."
+
+"I have business with Messer Angelo," said Aristarchi. "But if he is
+such a great man he will hardly be in the glass-house."
+
+"I will ask," answered the boatman.
+
+In a few minutes he made his boat fast to the steps before the
+glass-house, went ashore and knocked at the door. Aristarchi leaned back
+in his seat, chewing pistachio nuts, which he carried in an embroidered
+leathern bag at his belt. His right hand played mechanically with the
+short string of thick amber beads which he used for counting. The June
+sun blazed down upon his swarthy face.
+
+At the grating beside the door the porter's head appeared, partially
+visible behind the bars.
+
+"Is Messer Angelo Beroviero within?" inquired the boatman civilly.
+
+"What is your business?" asked the porter in a tone of surly contempt,
+instead of answering the question.
+
+"There is a rich foreign gentleman here, who desires to speak with him,"
+answered the boatman.
+
+"Is he the Pope?" asked the porter, with fine irony.
+
+"No, sir," said the other, intimidated by the fellow's manner. "He is a
+rich--"
+
+"Tell him to wait, then." And the surly head disappeared.
+
+The boatman supposed that the man was gone to speak with his master, and
+waited patiently by the door. Aristarchi chewed his pistachio nut till
+there was nothing left, at which time he reached the end of his
+patience. He argued that it was a good sign if Angelo Beroviero kept
+rich strangers waiting at his gate, for it showed that he had no need of
+their custom. On the other hand the Greek's dignity was offended now
+that he had been made to wait too long, for he was hasty by nature.
+Once, in a fit of irritation with a Candiot who stammered out of sheer
+fright, the captain had ordered him to be hanged. Having finished his
+nut, he stood up in the boat and stepped ashore.
+
+"Knock again," he said to the boatman, who obeyed.
+
+There was no answer this time.
+
+"I can hear the fellow inside," said the boatman.
+
+The grating was too high for a man to look through it from outside.
+Aristarchi laid his knotty hands on the stone sill and pulled himself up
+till his face was against the grating. He now looked in and saw the
+porter sitting in his chair.
+
+"Have you taken my message to your master?" inquired the Greek.
+
+The porter looked up in surprise, which increased when he caught sight
+of the ferocious face of the speaker. But he was not to be intimidated
+so easily.
+
+"Messer Angelo is not to be disturbed at his studies," he said. "If you
+wait till noon, perhaps he will come out to go to dinner."
+
+"Perhaps!" repeated Aristarchi, still hanging by his hands. "Do you
+think I shall wait all day?"
+
+"I do not know. That is your affair."
+
+"Precisely. And I do not mean to wait."
+
+"Then go away."
+
+But the Greek had come on an exploring expedition in which he had
+nothing to lose. Hauling himself up a little higher, till his mouth was
+close to the grating, he hailed the house as he would have hailed a ship
+at sea, in a voice of thunder.
+
+"Ahoy there! Is any one within? Ahoy! Ahoy!"
+
+This was more than the porter's equanimity could bear. He looked about
+for a weapon with which to attack the Greek's face through the bars,
+heaping, upon him a torrent of abuse in the meantime.
+
+"Son of dogs and mules!" he cried in a rising growl. "Ill befall the
+foul souls of thy dead and of their dead before them."
+
+"Ahoy--oh! Ahoy!" bellowed the Greek, who now thoroughly enjoyed the
+situation.
+
+The boatman, anxious for drink money, and convinced that his huge
+employer would get the better of the porter, had obligingly gone down
+upon his hands and knees, thrusting his broad back under the captain's
+feet, so that Aristarchi stood upon him and was now prepared to prolong
+the interview without any further effort. His terrific shouts rang
+through the corridor to the garden.
+
+The first person to enter the little lodge was Marietta herself, and the
+Greek broke off short in the middle of another tremendous yell as soon
+as he saw her. She turned her face up to him, quite fearlessly, and was
+very much inclined to laugh as she saw the sudden change in his
+expression.
+
+"Madam," he said with great politeness, "I beg you to forgive my manner
+of announcing myself. If your porter were more obliging, I should have
+been admitted in the ordinary way."
+
+"What is this atrocious disturbance?" asked Zorzi, entering before
+Marietta could answer. "Pray leave the fellow to me," he added, speaking
+to Marietta, who cast one more glance at Aristarchi and went out.
+
+"Sir," said the captain blandly, "I admit that my behaviour may give you
+some right to call me 'fellow,' but I trust that my apology will make
+you consider me a gentleman like yourself. Your porter altogether
+refused to take a message to Messer Angelo Beroviero. May I ask whether
+you are his son, sir?"
+
+"No, sir. You say that you wish to speak with the master. I can take a
+message to him, but I am not sure that he will see any one to-day."
+
+Aristarchi imagined that Beroviero made himself inaccessible, in order
+to increase the general idea of his wealth and importance. He resolved
+to convey a strong impression of his own standing.
+
+"I am the chief partner in a great house of Greek merchants settled in
+Palermo," he said. "My name is Charalambos Aristarchi, and I desire the
+honour of speaking with Messer Angelo about the purchase of several
+cargoes of glass for the King of Sicily."
+
+"I will deliver your message, sir," said Zorzi. "Pray wait a minute, I
+will open the door."
+
+Aristarchi's big head disappeared at last.
+
+"Yes!" growled the porter to Zorzi. "Open the door yourself, and take
+the blame. The man has the face of a Turkish pirate, and his voice is
+like the bellowing of several bulls."
+
+Zorzi unbarred the door, which opened inward, and Aristarchi turned a
+little sideways in order to enter, for his shoulders would have touched
+the two door-posts. The slight and gracefully built Dalmatian looked at
+him with some curiosity, standing aside to let him pass, before barring
+the door again. Aristarchi, though not much taller than himself, was the
+biggest man he had ever seen. He thanked Zorzi, who pushed forward the
+porter's only chair for him to sit on while he waited.
+
+"I will bring you an answer immediately," said Zorzi, and disappeared
+down the corridor.
+
+Aristarchi sat down, crossed one leg over the other, and took a
+pistachio nut from his pouch.
+
+"Master porter," he began in a friendly tone, "can you tell me who that
+beautiful lady is, who came here a moment ago?"
+
+"There is no reason why I should," snarled the porter, beginning to
+strip the outer leaves from a large onion which he pulled from a string
+of them hanging by the wall.
+
+Aristarchi said nothing for a few moments, but watched the man with an
+air of interest.
+
+"Were you ever a pirate?" he inquired presently.
+
+"No, I never served in your crew."
+
+The porter was not often at a loss for a surly answer. The Greek laughed
+outright, in genuine amusement.
+
+"I like your company, my friend," he said. "I should like to spend the
+day here."
+
+"As the devil said to Saint Anthony," concluded the porter.
+
+Aristarchi laughed again. It was long since he had enjoyed such amusing
+conversation, and there was a certain novelty in not being feared. He
+repeated his first question, however, remembering that he had not come
+in search of diversion, but to gather information.
+
+"Who was the beautiful lady?" he asked. "She is Messer Angelo's
+daughter, is she not?"
+
+"A man who asks a question when he knows the answer is either a fool or
+a knave. Choose as you please."
+
+"Thanks, friend," answered Aristarchi, still grinning and showing his
+jagged teeth. "I leave the first choice to you. Whichever you take, I
+will take the other. For if you call me a knave, I shall call you a
+fool, but if you think me a fool, I am quite satisfied that you should
+be the knave."
+
+The porter snarled, vaguely feeling that the Greek had the better of
+him. At that moment Zorzi returned, and his coming put an end to the
+exchange of amenities.
+
+"My master has no long leisure," he said, "but he begs you to come in."
+
+They left the lodge together, and the porter watched them as they went
+down the dark corridor, muttering unholy things about the visitor who
+had disturbed him, and bestowing a few curses on Zorzi. Then he went
+back to peeling his onions.
+
+As Aristarchi went through the garden, he saw Marietta sitting under the
+plane-tree, making a little net of coloured beads. Her face was turned
+from him and bent down, but when he had passed she glanced furtively
+after him, wondering at his size. But her eyes followed Zorzi, till the
+two reached the door and went in. A moment later Zorzi came out again,
+leaving his master and the Greek together. Marietta looked down at
+once, lest her eyes should betray her gladness, for she knew that Zorzi
+would not go back and could not leave the glass-house, so that site
+should necessarily be alone with him while the interview in the
+laboratory lasted.
+
+He came a little way down the path, then stopped, took a short knife
+from his wallet and began to trim away a few withered sprigs from a
+rose-bush. She waited a moment, but he showed no signs of coming nearer,
+so she spoke to him.
+
+"Will you come here?" she asked softly, looking towards him with
+half-closed eyes.
+
+He slipped the knife back into his pouch and walked quickly to her side.
+She looked down again, threading the coloured beads that half filled a
+small basket in her lap.
+
+"May I ask you a question?" Her voice had a little persuasive hesitation
+in it, as if she wished him to understand that the answer would be a
+favour of which she was anything but certain.
+
+"Anything you will," said Zorzi.
+
+"Provided I do not ask about my father's secret!" A little laughter
+trembled in the words. "You were so severe yesterday, you know. I am
+almost afraid ever to ask you anything again."
+
+"I will answer as well as I can."
+
+"Well--tell me this. Did you really take the boat and go to Venice last
+night?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Marietta's hand moved with the needle among the beads, but she did not
+thread one. Nella had been right, after all.
+
+"Why did you go, Zorzi?" The question came in a lower tone that was full
+of regret.
+
+"The master sent me," answered Zorzi, looking down at her hair, and
+wishing that he could see her face.
+
+His wish was almost instantly fulfilled. After the slightest pause she
+looked up at him with a lovely smile; yet when he saw that rare look in
+her face, his heart sank suddenly, instead of swelling and standing
+still with happiness, and when she saw how sad he was, she was grave
+with the instant longing to feel whatever he felt of pain or sorrow.
+That is one of the truest signs of love, but Zorzi had not learned much
+of love's sign-language yet, and did not understand.
+
+"What is it?" she asked almost tenderly.
+
+He turned his eyes from her and rested one hand against the trunk of the
+plane-tree.
+
+"I do not understand," he said slowly.
+
+"Why are you so sad? What is it that is always making you suffer?"
+
+"How could I tell you?" The words were spoken almost under his breath.
+
+"It would be very easy to tell me," she said. "Perhaps I could help
+you--"
+
+"Oh no, no, no!" he cried with an accent of real pain. "You could not
+help me!"
+
+"Who knows? Perhaps I am the best friend you have in the world, Zorzi."
+
+"Indeed I believe you are! No one has ever been so good to me."
+
+"And you have not many friends," continued Marietta. "The workmen are
+jealous of you, because you are always with my father. My brothers do
+not like you, for the same reason, and they think that you will get my
+father's secret from him some day, and outdo them all. No--you have not
+many friends."
+
+"I have none, but you and the master. The men would kill me if they
+dared."
+
+Marietta started a little, remembering how the workmen had looked at him
+in the morning, when he came out.
+
+"You need not be afraid," he added, seeing her movement. "They will not
+touch me."
+
+"Does my father know what your trouble is?" asked Marietta suddenly.
+
+"No! That is--I have no trouble, I assure you. I am of a melancholy
+nature."
+
+"I am glad it has nothing to do with the secrets," said the young girl,
+quietly ignoring the last part of his speech. "If it had, I could not
+help you at all. Could I?"
+
+That morning it had seemed an easy thing to wait even two years before
+giving him a sign, before dropping in his path the rose which she would
+not ask of him again. The minutes seemed years now. For she knew well
+enough what his trouble was, since yesterday; he loved her, and he
+thought it infinitely impossible, in his modesty, that she should ever
+stoop to him. After she had spoken, she looked at him with half-closed
+eyes for a while, but he stared stonily at the trunk of the tree beside
+his hand. Gradually, as she gazed, her lids opened wider, and the
+morning sunlight sparkled in the deep blue, and her fresh lips parted.
+Before she was aware of it he was looking at her with a strange
+expression she had never seen. Then she faintly blushed and looked down
+at her beads once more. She felt as if she had told him that she loved
+him. But he had not understood. He had only seen the transfiguration of
+her face, and it had been for a moment as he had never seen it before.
+Again his heart sank suddenly, and he uttered a little sound that was
+more than a sigh and less than a groan.
+
+"There are remedies for almost every kind of pain," said Marietta
+wisely, as she threaded several beads.
+
+"Give me one for mine," he cried almost bitterly. "Bid that which is to
+cease from being, and that to be which is not earthly possible! Turn the
+world back, and undo truth, and make it all a dream! Then I shall find
+the remedy and forget that it was needed."
+
+"There are magicians who pretend to do such things," she answered
+softly.
+
+"I would there were!" he sighed.
+
+"But those who come to them for help tell all, else the magician has no
+power. Would you call a physician, if you were ill, and tell him that
+the pain you felt was in your head, if it was really--in your heart?"
+
+She had paused an instant before speaking the last words, and they came
+with a little effort.
+
+"How could the physician cure you, if you would not tell him the truth?"
+she asked, as he said nothing. "How can the wizard work miracles for
+you, unless he knows what miracle you ask? How can your best friend help
+you if--if she does not know what help you need?"
+
+Still he was silent, leaning against the tree, with bent head. The pain
+was growing worse, and harder to bear. She spoke so softly and kindly
+that it would have been easy to tell her the truth, he thought, for
+though she could never love him, she would understand, and would forgive
+him. He had not dreamed that friendship could be so kind.
+
+"Am I right?" she asked, after a pause.
+
+"Yes," he answered. "When I cannot bear it any longer, I will tell you,
+and you will help me."
+
+"Why not now?"
+
+The little question might have been ruinous to all his resolution, if
+Zorzi had not been almost like a child in his simplicity--or like a
+saint in his determination to be loyal. For he thought it loyalty to be
+silent, not only for the sake of the promise he had given in return for
+his life, but in respect of his master also, who put such great trust in
+him.
+
+"Pray do not press me with the question," he said. "You tempt me very
+much, and I do not wish to speak of what I feel. Be my friend in real
+truth, if you can, and do not ask me to say what I shall ever after wish
+unsaid. That will be the best friendship."
+
+Marietta looked across the garden thoughtfully, and suddenly a chilling
+doubt fell upon her heart. She could not have been mistaken yesterday,
+she could not be deceived in him now; and yet, if he loved her as she
+believed, she had said all that a maiden could to show him that she
+would listen willingly. She had said too much, and she felt ashamed and
+hurt, almost resentful. He was not a boy. If he loved her, he could find
+words to tell her so, and should have found them, for she had helped him
+to her utmost. Suddenly, she almost hated him, for what his silence made
+her feel, and she told herself that she was glad he had not dared to
+speak, for she did not love him at all. It was all a sickening mistake,
+it was all a miserable little dream; she wished that he would go away
+and leave her to herself. Not that she should shed a single tear! She
+was far too angry for that, but his presence, so near her, reminded her
+of what she had done. He must have seen, all through their talk, that
+she was trying to make him tell his love, and there was nothing to tell.
+Of course he would despise her. That was natural, but she had a right to
+hate him for it, and she would, with all her heart! Her thoughts all
+came together in a tumult of disgust and resentment. If Zorzi did not go
+away presently, she would go away herself. She was almost resolved to
+get up and leave the garden, when the door opened.
+
+"Zorzi!" It was Beroviero's voice.
+
+Aristarchi already stood in the doorway taking leave of Beroviero with,
+many oily protestations of satisfaction in having made his
+acquaintance. Zorzi went forward to accompany the Greek to the door.
+
+"I shall never forget that I have had the honour of being received by
+the great artist himself," said Aristarchi, who held his big cap in his
+hand and was bowing low on the threshold.
+
+"The pleasure has been all on my side," returned Beroviero courteously.
+
+"On the contrary, quite on the contrary," protested his guest, backing
+away and then turning to go.
+
+Zorzi walked beside him, on his left. As they reached the entrance to
+the corridor Aristarchi turned once more, and made an elaborate bow,
+sweeping the ground with his cap, for Beroviero had remained at the door
+till he should be out of sight. He bent his head, making a gracious
+gesture with his hand, and went in as the Greek disappeared. Zorzi
+followed the latter, showing him out.
+
+Marietta saw the door close after her father, and she knew that Zorzi
+must come back through the garden in a few moments. She bent her head
+over her beads as she heard his step, and pretended not to see him. When
+he came near her he stood still a moment, but she would not look up, and
+between annoyance and disappointment and confusion she felt that she was
+blushing, which she would not have had Zorzi see for anything. She
+wondered why he did not go on.
+
+"Have I offended you?" he asked, in a low voice.
+
+Oddly enough, her embarrassment disappeared as soon as he spoke, and the
+blush faded away.
+
+"No," she answered, coldly enough. "I am not angry--I am only sorry."
+
+"But I am glad that I would not answer your question," returned Zorzi.
+
+"I doubt whether you had any answer to give," retorted Marietta with a
+touch of scorn.
+
+Zorzi's brows contracted sharply and he made a movement to go on. So her
+proffered friendship was worth no more than that, he thought. She was
+angry and scornful because her curiosity was disappointed. She could not
+have guessed his secret, he was sure, though that might account for her
+temper, for she would of course be angry if she knew that he loved her.
+And she was angry now because he had refused to tell her so. That was a
+woman's logic, he thought, quite regardless of the defect in his own. It
+was just like a woman! He sincerely wished that he might tell her so.
+
+In the presence of Marietta the man who had confronted sudden death less
+than twenty-four hours ago, with a coolness that had seemed imposing to
+other men, was little better than a girl himself. He turned to go on,
+without saying more. But she stopped him.
+
+"I am sorry that you do not care for my friendship," she said, in a hurt
+tone. She could not have said anything which he would have found it
+harder to answer just then.
+
+"What makes you think that?" he asked, hoping to gain time.
+
+"Many things. It is quite true, so it does not matter what makes me
+think it!"
+
+She tried to laugh scornfully, but there was a quaver in her voice which
+she herself had not expected and was very far from understanding. Why
+should she suddenly feel that she was going to cry? It had seemed so
+ridiculous in poor Nella that morning. Yet there was a most unmistakable
+something in her throat, which frightened her. It would be dreadful if
+she should burst into tears over her beads before Zorzi's eyes. She
+tried to gulp the something: down, and suddenly, as she bent over the
+basket, she saw the beautiful, hateful drops falling fast upon the
+little dry glass things; and even then, in her shame at being seen, she
+wondered why the beads looked, bigger through the glistening tears--she
+remembered afterwards how they looked, so she must have noticed them at
+the time.
+
+Zorzi knew too little of women to have any idea of what he ought to do
+under the circumstances. He did not know whether to turn his back or to
+go away, so he stood still and looked at her, which was the very worst
+thing he could have done. Worse still, he tried to reason with her.
+
+"I assure you that you are mistaken," he said in a soothing tone. "I
+wish for your friendship with all my heart! Only, when you ask me--"
+
+"Oh, go away! For heaven's sake go away!" cried Marietta, almost
+choking, and turning her face quite away, so that he could only see the
+back of her head.
+
+At the same time, she tapped the ground impatiently with her foot, and
+to make matters worse, the little basket of beads began to slip off her
+knees at the same moment. She caught at it desperately, trying not to
+look round and half blinded by her tears, but she missed it, and but for
+Zorzi it would have fallen. He put it into her hands very gently, but
+she was not in the least grateful.
+
+"Oh, please go away!" she repeated. "Can you not understand?"
+
+He did not understand, but he obeyed her and turned away, very grave,
+very much puzzled by this new development of affairs, and sincerely
+wishing that some wise familiar spirit would whisper the explanation in
+his ear, since he could not possibly consult any living person.
+
+She heard him go and she listened for the shutting of the laboratory
+door. Then she knew that she was quite alone in the garden, and she let
+the tears flow as they would, bending her head till it touched the trunk
+of the tree, and they wet the smooth bark and ran down to the dry earth.
+
+Zorzi went in, and began to tend the fire as usual, until it should
+please the master to give him other orders. Old Beroviero was sitting in
+the big chair in which he sometimes rested himself, his elbow on one of
+its arms, and his hand grasping his beard below his chin.
+
+"Zorzi," he said at last, "I have seen that man before."
+
+Zorzi looked at him, expecting more, but for some time Beroviero said
+nothing. The young man selected his pieces of beech wood, laying them
+ready before the little opening just above the floor.
+
+"It is very strange," said Beroviero at last. "He seems to be a rich
+merchant now, but I am almost quite sure that I saw him in Naples."
+
+"Did you know him there, sir?" asked Zorzi.
+
+"No," answered his master thoughtfully. "I saw him in a cart with his
+hands tied behind him, on his way to be hanged."
+
+"He looks as if one hanging would not be enough for him," observed
+Zorzi.
+
+Beroviero was silent for a moment. Then he laughed, and he laughed very
+rarely.
+
+"Yes," he said. "It is not a face one could forget easily," he added.
+
+Then he rose and went back to his table.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+The sun was high over Venice, gleaming on the blue lagoons that lightly
+rippled under a southerly breeze, filling the vast square of Saint
+Mark's with blinding light, casting deep shadows behind the church and
+in the narrow alleys and canals to northward, about the Merceria. The
+morning haze had long since blown away, and the outlines of the old
+church and monastery on Saint George's island, and of the buildings on
+the Guidecca, and on the low-lying Lido, were hard and clear against the
+cloudless sky, mere designs cut out in rich colours, as if with a sharp
+knife, and reared up against a background of violent light. In Venice
+only the melancholy drenching rain of a winter's day brings rest to the
+eye, when water meets water and sky is washed into sea and the city lies
+soaking and dripping between two floods. But soon the wind shifts to the
+northeast, out breaks the sun again, and all Venice is instantly in a
+glare of light and colour and startling distinctness, like the sails and
+rigging of a ship at sea on a clear day.
+
+It was Sunday morning and high mass was over in Saint Mark's. The crowd
+had streamed out of the central door, spreading like a bright fan over
+the square, the men in gay costumes, red, green, blue, yellow, purple,
+brown, and white, their legs particoloured in halves and quarters, so
+that when looking at a group it was mere guesswork to match the pair
+that belonged to one man; women in dresses of one tone, mostly rich and
+dark, and often heavily embroidered, for no sumptuary laws could
+effectually limit outward display, and the insolent vanity of an age
+still almost mediaeval made it natural that the rich should attire
+themselves as richly as they could, and that the poor should be despised
+for wearing poor clothes.
+
+Angelo Beroviero had a true Venetian's taste for splendour, but he was
+also deeply imbued with the Venetian love of secrecy in all matters that
+concerned his private life. When he bade Marietta accompany him to
+Venice on that Sunday morning, he was equally anxious that she should be
+as finely dressed as was becoming for the daughter of a wealthy citizen,
+and that she should be in ignorance of the object of the trip. She was
+not to know that Jacopo Contarini would be standing beside the second
+column on the left, watching her with lazily critical eyes; she was
+merely told that she and her father were to dine in the house of a
+certain Messer Luigi Foscarini, Procurator of Saint Mark, who was an old
+and valued friend, though a near connection of Alvise Trevisan, a rival
+glass-maker of Murano. All this had been carefully planned in order that
+during their absence Beroviero's house might be suitably prepared for
+the solemn family meeting which was to take place late in the afternoon,
+and at which her betrothal was to be announced, but of which Marietta
+knew nothing. Her father counted upon surprising her and perhaps
+dazzling her, so as to avoid all discussion and all possibility of
+resistance on her part. She should see Contarini in the church, and
+while still under the first impression of his beauty and magnificence,
+she should be told before her assembled family that she was solemnly
+bound to marry him in two months' time.
+
+Beroviero never expected opposition in anything he wished to do, but he
+had always heard that young girls could find a thousand reasons for not
+marrying the man their parents chose for them, and he believed that he
+could make all argument and hesitation impossible. Marietta doubtless
+expected to have a week in which to make up her mind. She should have
+five hours, and even that was too much, thought Beroviero. He would have
+preferred to march her to the altar without any preliminaries and marry
+her to Contarini without giving her a chance of seeing him before the
+ceremony. After all, that was the custom of the day.
+
+The fortunes of love were in his favour, for Marietta had spent three
+miserably unhappy days and nights since she had last talked with Zorzi
+in the garden. From that time he had avoided her moat carefully, never
+coming out of the laboratory when she was under the tree with her work,
+never raising his eyes to look at her when she came in and talked with
+her father. When she entered the big room, he made a solemn bow and
+occupied himself in the farthest corner so long as she remained. There
+is a stage in which even the truest and purest love of boy and maiden
+feeds on misunderstandings. In a burst of tears, and ashamed that she
+should be seen crying, Marietta had bidden him go away; in the folly of
+his young heart he took her at her word, and avoided her consistently.
+He had been hurt by the words, but by a kind of unconscious selfishness
+his pain helped him to do what he believed to be his duty.
+
+And Marietta forgot that he had picked up the rose dropped by her in the
+path, she forgot that she had seen him stand gazing up at her window,
+with a look that could mean only love, she forgot how tenderly and
+softly he had answered her in the garden; she only remembered that she
+had done her utmost, and too much, to make him tell her that he loved
+her, and in vain. She could not forgive him that, for even after three
+days her cheeks burned fiercely whenever she thought of it. After that,
+it mattered nothing what became of her, whether she were betrothed, or
+whether she were married, or whether she went mad, or even whether she
+died--that would be the best of all.
+
+In this mood Marietta entered the gondola and seated herself by her
+father on Sunday morning. She wore an embroidered gown of olive green, a
+little open at her dazzling throat, and a silk mantle of a darker tone
+hung from her shoulders, to protect her from the sun rather than from
+the air. Her russet hair was plaited in a thick flat braid, and brought
+round her head like a broad coronet of red gold, and a point lace veil,
+pinned upon it with stoat gold pins, hang down behind and was brought
+forward carelessly upon one shoulder.
+
+Beside her, Angelo Beroviero was splendid in dark red cloth and purple
+silk. He was proud of his daughter, who was betrothed to the heir of a
+great Venetian house, he was proud of his own achievements, of his
+wealth, of the richly furnished gondola, of his two big young oarsmen in
+quartered yellow and blue hose and snowy shirts, and of his liveried man
+in blue and gold, who sat outside the low 'felse' on a little stool,
+staff in hand, ready to attend upon his master and young mistress
+whenever they should please to go on foot.
+
+Marietta had got into the gondola without so much as glancing across the
+canal to see whether Zorzi were standing there to see them push off, as
+he often did when she and her father went out together. If he were
+there, she meant to show him that she could be more indifferent than he;
+if he were not, she would show herself that she did not care enough even
+to look for him. But when the gondola was out of sight of the house she
+wished she knew whether he had looked out or not.
+
+Her father had told her that they were going to dine with the Procurator
+Foscarini and his wife. The pair had one daughter, of Marietta's age,
+and she was a cripple from birth. Marietta was fond of her, and it was a
+relief to get away from Murano, even for half a day. The visit
+explained well enough why her father had desired her to put on her best
+gown and most valuable lace. She really had not the slightest idea that
+anything more important was on foot.
+
+Beroviero looked at her in silence as they sped along with the gently
+rocking motion of the gondola, which is not exactly like any other
+movement in the world. He had already noticed that she was paler than
+usual, but the extraordinary whiteness of her skin made her pallor
+becoming to her, and it was set off by the colour of her hair, as ivory
+by rough gold. He wondered whether she had guessed whither he was taking
+her.
+
+"It is a long time since we were in Saint Mark's together," he said at
+last.
+
+"It must be more than a year," answered Marietta. "We pass it often, but
+we hardly ever go in."
+
+"It is early," observed Beroviero, speaking as indifferently as he
+could. "When we left home it lacked an hour and a half of noon by the
+dial. Shall we go into the church for a while?"
+
+"If you like," replied Marietta mechanically.
+
+Nothing made much difference that morning, but she knew that the high
+mass would be over and that the church would be quiet and cool. It was
+not at that time the cathedral of Venice, though it had always been the
+church in which the doges worshipped in state.
+
+They landed at the low steps in the Rio del Palazzo, and the servant
+held out his bent elbow for Marietta to steady herself, though he knew
+that she would not touch it, for she was light and sure-footed as a
+fawn; but Beroviero leaned heavily on his man's arm. They came round
+the Patriarch's palace into the open square, whence the crowd had nearly
+all disappeared, dispersing in different directions. Just as they were
+within sight of the great doors of the church, Beroviero saw a very tall
+man in a purple silk mantle going in alone. It was Contarini, and
+Beroviero drew a little sigh of relief. The intended bridegroom was
+punctual, but Beroviero thought that he might have shown such anxiety to
+see his bride as should have brought him to the door a few minutes
+before the time.
+
+Marietta had drawn her veil across her face, leaving only her eyes
+uncovered, according to custom.
+
+"It is hot," she complained.
+
+"It will be cool in the church," answered her father. "Throw your veil
+back, my dear--there is no one to see you."
+
+"There is the sun," she said, for she had been taught that one of a
+Venetian lady's chief beauties is her complexion.
+
+"Well, well--there will be no sun in the church." And the old man
+hurried her in, without bestowing a glance upon the bronze horses over
+the door, to admire which he generally stopped a few moments in passing.
+
+They entered the great church, and the servant went before them, dipped
+his fingers in the basin and offered them holy water. They crossed
+themselves, and Marietta bent one knee, looking towards the high altar.
+A score of people were scattered about, kneeling and standing in the
+nave.
+
+Contarini was leaning against the second pillar on the left, and had
+been watching the door when Marietta and her father entered. Beroviero
+saw him at once, but led his daughter up the opposite side of the nave,
+knelt down beside her a moment at the screen, then crossed and came down
+the aisle, and at last turned into the nave again by the second pillar,
+so as to come upon Contarini as it were unawares. This all seemed
+necessary to him in order that Marietta should receive a very strong and
+sudden impression, which should leave no doubt in her mind. Contarini
+himself was too thoroughly Venetian not to understand what Beroviero was
+doing, and when the two came upon him, he was drawn up to his full
+height, one gloved hand holding his cap and resting on his hip; the
+other, gloveless, and white as a woman's, was twisting his silky
+mustache. Beroviero had manoeuvred so cleverly that Marietta almost
+jostled the young patrician as she turned the pillar.
+
+Contarini drew back with quick grace and a slight inclination of his
+body, and then pretended the utmost surprise on seeing his valued friend
+Messer Angelo Beroviero.
+
+"My most dear sir!" he exclaimed. "This is indeed good fortune!"
+
+"Mine, Messer Jacopo!" returned Beroviero with equally well-feigned
+astonishment.
+
+Marietta had looked Contarini full in the face before she had time to
+draw her veil across her own. She stepped back and placed herself behind
+her father, protected as it were by their serving-man, who stood beside
+her with his staff. She understood instantly that the magnificent
+patrician was the man of whom her father had spoken as her future
+husband. Seen, as she had seen him, in the glowing church, in the most
+splendid surroundings that could be imagined, he was certainly a man at
+whom any woman would look twice, even out of curiosity, and through her
+veil Marietta looked again, till she saw his soft brown eyes
+scrutinising her appearance; then she turned quickly away, for she had
+looked long enough. She saw that a woman in black was kneeling by the
+next pillar, watching her intently with a sort of cold stare that almost
+made her shudder. Yet the woman was exceedingly beautiful. It was easy
+to see that, though the dark veil hid half her face and its folds
+concealed most of her figure. The mysterious, almond-shaped eyes were
+those of another race, the marble cheek was more perfectly modelled and
+turned than an Italian's, the curling golden hair was more glorious than
+any Venetian's. Arisa had come to see her master's bride, and he knew
+that she was there looking on. Why should he care? It was a bargain, and
+he was not going to give up Arisa and the house of the Agnus Dei because
+he meant to marry the rich glass-blower's daughter.
+
+Marietta imagined no connection between the woman and the man, who thus
+insolently came to the same place to look at her, pretending not to know
+one another; and when she looked back at Contarini she felt a miserable
+little thrill of vanity as she noticed that he was looking fixedly at
+her, and that his eyes did not wander to the face of that other woman,
+who was so much more beautiful than herself. Perhaps, after all, he
+would really prefer her to that matchless creature close beside her!
+Nothing mattered, of course, since Zorzi did not love her, but after all
+it was flattering to be admired by Jacopo Contarini, who could choose
+his wife where he pleased, through the whole world.
+
+It all happened in a few seconds. The two men exchanged a few words, to
+which she paid no attention, and took leave of each other with great
+ceremony and much bowing on both sides. When her father turned at last,
+Marietta was already walking towards the door, the servant by her left
+side. Beroviero had scarcely joined her when she started a little, and
+laid her hand upon his arm.
+
+"The Greek merchant!" she whispered.
+
+Beroviero looked where she was looking. By the first pillar, gazing
+intently at Arisa's kneeling figure, stood Aristarchi, his hands folded
+over his broad chest, his shaggy head bent forward, his sturdy legs a
+little apart. He, too, had come to see the promised bride, and to be a
+witness of the bargain whereby he also was to be enriched.
+
+As Marietta came out of the church, she covered her face closely and
+drew her silk mantle quite round her, bending her head a little. The
+servant walked a few paces in front.
+
+"You have seen your future husband, my child," said Beroviero.
+
+"I suppose that the young noble was Messer Jacopo Contarini," answered
+Marietta coldly.
+
+"You are hard to please, if you are not satisfied with my choice for
+you," observed her father.
+
+To this Marietta said nothing. She only bent her head a little lower,
+looking down as she trod delicately over the hot and dusty ground.
+
+"And you are a most ungrateful daughter," continued Beroviero, "if you
+do not appreciate my kindness and liberality of mind in allowing you to
+see him before you are formally betrothed."
+
+"Perhaps he is even more pleased by your liberality of mind than I could
+possibly be," retorted the young girl with unbending coldness. "He has
+probably not seen many Venetian girls of our class face to face and
+unveiled. He is to be congratulated on his good fortune!"
+
+"By my faith!" exclaimed Beroviero, "it is hard to satisfy you!"
+
+"I have asked nothing."
+
+"Do you mean to say that you have any objections to allege against such
+a marriage?"
+
+"Have I said that I should oppose it? One may obey without enthusiasm."
+She laughed coldly.
+
+"Like the unprofitable servant! I had expected something more of you, my
+child. I have been at infinite pains and I am making great sacrifices to
+procure you a suitable husband, and there are scores of noble girls in
+Venice who would give ten years of their lives to marry Jacopo
+Contarini! And you say that you obey my commands without enthusiasm!
+You are an ungrateful--"
+
+"No, I am not!" interrupted Marietta firmly. "I would rather not marry
+at all--"
+
+"Not marry!" repeated Beroviero, interrupting her in a tone of profound
+stupefaction, and standing still in the sun as he spoke. "Why--what is
+the matter?"
+
+"Is it so strange that I should be contented with my girl's life?" asked
+Marietta. "Should I not be ungrateful indeed, if I wished to leave you
+and become the wife of a man I have just seen for the first time?"
+
+"You use most extraordinary arguments, my dear," replied Beroviero,
+quite at a loss for a suitable retort. "Of course, I have done my best
+to make you happy."
+
+He paused, for she had placed him in the awkward position of being angry
+because she did not wish to leave him.
+
+"I really do not know what to say," he added, after a moment's
+reflection.
+
+"Perhaps there is nothing to be said," answered Marietta, in a tone of
+irritating superiority, for she certainly had the best of the
+discussion.
+
+They had reached the gondola by this time, and as the servant sat within
+hearing at the open door of the 'felse,' they could not continue talking
+about such a matter. Beroviero was glad of it, for he regarded the
+affair as settled, and considered that it should be hastened to its
+conclusion without any further reasoning about it. If he had sent word
+to young Contarini that the answer should be given him in a week, that
+was merely an imaginary formality invented to cover his own dignity,
+since he had so far derogated from it as to allow the young man to see
+Marietta. In reality the marriage had been determined and settled
+between Beroviero and Contarini's father before anything had been said
+to either of the young people. The meeting in the church might have been
+dispensed with, if the patrician had been able to answer with certainty
+for his wild son's conduct. Jacopo had demanded it, and his father was
+so anxious for the marriage that he had communicated the request to
+Beroviero. The latter, always for his dignity's sake, had pretended to
+refuse, and had then secretly arranged the matter for Jacopo, as has
+been seen, without old Contarini's knowledge.
+
+Marietta leaned back under the cool, dark 'felse,' and her hands lay
+idly in her lap. She felt that she was helpless, because she was
+indifferent, and that she could even now have changed the course of her
+destiny if she had cared to make the effort. There was no reason for
+making any. She did not believe that she had really loved Zorzi after
+all, and if she had, it seemed to-day quite impossible that she should
+ever have married him. He was nothing but a waif, a half-nameless
+servant, a stranger predestined to a poor and obscure life. As she
+inwardly repeated some of these considerations, she felt a little thrust
+of remorse for trying to look down on him as impossibly far below her
+own station, and a small voice told her that he was an artist, and that
+if he had chanced to be born in Venice he would have been as good as her
+brothers.
+
+The future stretched out before her in a sort of dull magnificence that
+did not in the least appeal to her simple nature. She could not tell why
+she had despised Jacopo Contarini from the moment she looked into his
+beautiful eyes. Happily women are not expected to explain why they
+sometimes judge rightly at first sight, when a wise man is absurdly
+deceived. Marietta did not understand Jacopo, and she easily fancied
+that because her own character was the stronger she should rule him as
+easily as she managed Nella. It did not occur to her that he was already
+under the domination of another woman, who might prove to be quite as
+strong as she. What she saw was the weakness in his eyes and mouth. With
+such a man, she thought, there was little to fear; but there was nothing
+to love. If she asked, he would give, if she opposed him, he would
+surrender, if she lost her temper and commanded, he would obey with
+petulant docility. She should be obliged to take refuge in vanity in
+order to get any satisfaction out of her life, and she was not naturally
+vain. The luxuries of those days were familiar to her from her
+childhood. Though she had not lived in a palace, she had been brought up
+in a house that was not unlike one, she ate off silver plates and drank
+from glasses that were masterpieces of her father's art, she had coffers
+full of silks and satins, and fine linen embroidered with gold thread,
+there was always gold and silver in her little wallet-purse when she
+wanted anything or wished to give to the poor, she was waited on by a
+maid of her own like any fine lady of Venice, and there were a score of
+idle servants in a house where there were only two masters--there was
+nothing which Contarini could give her that would be more than a little
+useless exaggeration of what she had already. She had no particular
+desire to show herself unveiled to the world, as married women did, and
+she was not especially attracted by the idea of becoming one of them.
+She had been brought up alone, she had acquired tastes which other women
+had not, and which would no longer be satisfied in her married life, she
+loved the glass-house, she delighted in taking a blow-pipe herself and
+making small objects which she decorated as she pleased, she felt a
+lively interest in her father's experiments, she enjoyed the atmosphere
+of his wisdom though it was occasionally disturbed by the foolish little
+storms of his hot temper. And until now, she had liked to be often with
+Zorzi.
+
+That was past, of course, but the rest remained, and it was much to
+sacrifice for the sake of becoming a Contarini, and living on the Grand
+Canal with a man she should always despise.
+
+It was clearly not the idea of marriage that surprised or repelled her,
+not even of a marriage with a man she did not know and had seen but
+once. Girls were brought up to regard marriage as the greatest thing in
+life, as the natural goal to which all their girlhood should tend, and
+at the same time they were taught from childhood that it was all to be
+arranged for them, and that they would in due course grow fond of the
+man their parents chose for them. Until Marietta had begun to love
+Zorzi, she had accepted all these things quite naturally, as a part of
+every woman's life, and it would have seemed as absurd, and perhaps as
+impossible, to rebel against them as to repudiate the religion in which
+she had been born. Such beliefs turn into prejudices, and assert
+themselves as soon as whatever momentarily retards them is removed. By
+the time the gondola drew alongside of the steps of the Foscarini
+palace, Marietta was convinced that there was nothing for her but to
+submit to her fate.
+
+"Then I am to be married in two months?" she said, in a tone of
+interrogation, and regardless of the servant.
+
+Beroviero bent his head in answer and smiled kindly; for after all, he
+was grateful to her for accepting his decision so quietly. But Marietta
+was very pale after she had spoken, for the audible words somehow made
+it all seem dreadfully real, and out of the shadows of the great
+entrance hall that opened upon the canal she could fancy Zorzi's face
+looking at her sadly and reproachfully. The bargain was made, and the
+woman he loved was sold for life. For one moment, instinctive womanhood
+felt the accursed humiliation, and the flushing blood rose in the girl's
+cool cheeks.
+
+She would have blushed deeper had she guessed who had been witnesses of
+her first meeting with Contarini, and old Beroviero's temper would have
+broken out furiously if he could have imagined that the Greek pirate who
+had somehow miraculously escaped the hangman in Naples had been
+contemplating with satisfaction the progress of the marriage
+negotiations, sure that he himself should before long be enjoying the
+better part of Marietta's rich dowry. If the old man could have had
+vision of Jacopo's life, and could have suddenly known what the
+beautiful woman in black was to the patrician, Contarini's chance of
+going home alive that day would have been small indeed, for Beroviero
+might have strangled him where he stood, and perhaps Aristarchi would
+have discreetly turned his back while he was doing it. For a few minutes
+they had all been very near together, the deceivers and the deceived,
+and it was not likely that they should ever all be so near again.
+
+Contarini had never seen the Greek, and Arisa was not aware that he was
+in the church. When Beroviero and Marietta were gone, Jacopo turned his
+back on the slave for a moment as if he meant to walk further up the
+church. Aristarchi watched them both, for in spite of all he did not
+quite trust the Georgian woman, and he had never seen her alone with
+Jacopo when she was unaware of his own presence. Yet he was afraid to go
+nearer, now, lest Arisa should accidentally see him and betray by her
+manner that she knew him.
+
+Jacopo turned suddenly, when he judged that he could leave the church
+without overtaking Beroviero, and he walked quietly down the nave. He
+passed close to Arisa, and Aristarchi guessed that their eyes met for a
+moment. He almost fancied that Contarini's lips moved, and he was sure
+that he smiled. But that was all, and Arisa remained on her knees, not
+even turning her head a little as her lover went by.
+
+"Not so ugly after all," Contarini had said, under his breath, and the
+careless smile went with the words.
+
+Arisa's lip curled contemptuously as she heard. She had drawn back her
+veil, her face was raised, as if she were sending up a prayer to heaven,
+and the light fell full upon the magnificent whiteness of her throat,
+that showed in strong relief against the black velvet and lace. She
+needed no other answer to what he said, but in the scorn of her curving
+mouth, which seemed all meant for Marietta, there was contempt for him,
+too, that would have cut him to the quick of his vanity.
+
+Aristarchi walked deliberately by the pillar to the aisle, as he passed,
+and listened for the flapping of the heavy leathern curtain at the door.
+Then he stole nearer to the place where Arisa was still kneeling, and
+came noiselessly behind her and leaned against the column, and watched
+her, not caring if he surprised her now.
+
+But she did not turn round. Listening intently, Aristarchi heard a soft
+quick whispering, and he saw that it was punctuated by a very slight
+occasional movement of her head.
+
+He had not believed her when she had told him that she said her prayers
+at night, but she was undoubtedly praying now, and Aristarchi watched
+her with interest, as he might have looked at some rare foreign animal
+whose habits he did not understand. She was very intently bent on what
+she was saying, for he stayed there some time, scarcely breathing,
+before he turned away and disappeared in the shadows with noiseless
+steps.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+All through the long Sunday afternoon Zorzi sat in the laboratory alone.
+From time to time, he tended the fire, which must not be allowed to go
+down lest the quality of the glass should be injured, or at least
+changed. Then he went back to the master's great chair, and allowed
+himself to think of what was happening in the house opposite.
+
+In those days there was no formal betrothal before marriage, at which
+the intended bride and bridegroom joined hands or exchanged the rings
+which were to be again exchanged at the wedding. When a marriage had
+been arranged, the parents or guardians of the young couple signed the
+contract before a notary, a strictly commercial and legal formality, and
+the two families then announced the match to their respective relatives
+who were invited for the purpose, and were hospitably entertained. The
+announcement was final, and to break off a marriage after it had been
+announced was a deadly offence and was generally an irreparable injury
+to the bride.
+
+In Beroviero's house the richest carpets were taken from the storerooms
+and spread upon the pavement and the stairs, tapestries of great worth
+and beauty were hung upon the walls, the servants were arrayed in their
+high-day liveries and spoke in whispers when they spoke at all, the
+silver dishes were piled with sweetmeats and early fruits, and the
+silver plates had been not only scoured, but had been polished with
+leather, which was not done every day. In all the rooms that were
+opened, silken curtains had been hung before the windows, in place of
+those used at other times. In a word, the house had been prepared in a
+few hours for a great family festivity, and when Marietta got out of the
+gondola, she set her foot upon a thick carpet that covered the steps and
+was even allowed to hang down and dip itself in the water of the canal
+by way of showing what little value was set upon it by the rich man.
+
+Zorzi had known that the preparations were going forward, and he knew
+what they meant. He would rather see nothing of them, and when the
+guests were gone, old Beroviero would come over and give him some final
+instructions before beginning his journey; until then he could be alone
+in the laboratory, where only the low roar of the fire in the furnace
+broke the silence.
+
+Marietta's head was aching and she felt as if the hard, hot fingers of
+some evil demon were pressing her eyeballs down into their sockets. She
+sat in an inner chamber, to which only women were admitted. There she
+sat, in a sort of state, a circlet of gold set upon her loosened hair,
+her dress all of embroidered white silk, her shoulders covered with a
+wide mantle of green and gold brocade that fell in heavy folds to the
+floor. She wore many jewels, too, such as she would not have worn in
+public before her marriage. They had belonged to her mother, like the
+mantle, and were now brought out for the first time. It was very hot,
+but the windows were shut lest the sound of the good ladies' voices
+should be heard without; for the news that Marietta was to be married
+had suddenly gone abroad through Murano, and all the idlers, and the men
+from the furnaces, where no work was done on Sunday, as well as all the
+poor, were assembled on the footway and the bridge, and in the narrow
+alleys round the house. They all pushed and jostled each other to see
+Beroviero's friends and relations, as they emerged from beneath the
+black 'felse' of their gondolas to enter the house. In the hall the
+guests divided, and the men gathered in a large lower chamber, while the
+women went upstairs to offer their congratulations to Marietta, with
+many set compliments upon her beauty, her clothes and her jewels, and
+even with occasional flattering allusions to the vast dowry her husband
+was to receive with her.
+
+She listened wearily, and her head ached more and more, so that she
+longed for the coolness of her own room and for Nella's soothing
+chatter, to which she was so much accustomed that she missed it if the
+little brown woman chanced to be silent.
+
+The sun went down and wax candles were brought, instead of the tall oil
+lamps that were used on ordinary days. It grew hotter and hotter, the
+compliments of the ladies seemed more and more dull and stale, her
+mantle was heavy and even the gold circlet on her hair was a burden.
+Worse than all, she knew that every minute was carrying her further and
+further into the dominion of the irrevocable whence she could never
+return.
+
+She had looked at the palaces she had passed in Venice that morning,
+some in shadow, some in sunlight, some with gay faces and some grave,
+but all so different from the big old house in Murano, that she did not
+wish to live in them at all. It would have been much easier to submit if
+she had been betrothed to a foreigner, a Roman, or a Florentine. She had
+been told that Romans were all wicked and gloomy, and that Florentines
+were all wicked and gay. That was what Nella had heard. But in a sense
+they were free, for they probably did what was good in their own eyes,
+as wicked people often do. Life in Venice was to be lived by rule, and
+everything that tasted of freedom was repressed by law. If it pleased
+women to wear long trains the Council forbade them; if they took refuge
+in long sleeves, thrown back over their shoulders, a law was passed
+which set a measure and a pattern for all sleeves that might ever be
+worn. If a few rich men indulged their fancy in the decoration of their
+gondolas, now that riding was out of fashion, the Council immediately
+determined that gondolas should be black and that they should only be
+gilt and adorned inside. As for freedom, if any one talked of it he was
+immediately tortured until he retracted all his errors, and was then
+promptly beheaded for fear that he should fall again into the same
+mistake. Nella said so, and told hideous tales of the things that had
+been done to innocent men in the little room behind the Council chamber
+in the Palace. Besides, if one talked of justice, there was Zorzi's case
+to prove that there was no justice at all in Venetian law. Marietta
+suddenly wished that she were wicked, like the Romans and the
+Florentines; and even when she reflected that it was a sin to wish that
+one were bad, she was not properly repentant, because she had a very
+vague notion of what wickedness really was. Righteousness seemed just
+now to consist in being smothered in heavy clothes, in a horribly hot
+room, while respectable women of all ages, fat, thin, fair, red-haired,
+dark, ugly and handsome, all chattered at her and overwhelmed her with
+nauseous flattery.
+
+She thought of that morning in the garden, three days ago, when
+something she did not understand had been so near, just before
+disappearing for ever. Then her throat tightened and she saw
+indistinctly, and her lips were suddenly dry. After that, she remembered
+little of what happened on that evening, and by and by she was alone in
+her own room without a light, standing at the open window with bare feet
+on the cold pavement, and the night breeze stirred her hair and brought
+her the scent of the rosemary and lavender, while she tried to listen to
+the stars, as if they were speaking to her, and lost herself in her
+thoughts for a few moments before going to sleep.
+
+Zorzi was still sitting in the big chair against the wall when he heard
+a footstep in the garden, and as he rose to look out Beroviero entered.
+The master was wrapped in a long cloak that covered something which he
+was carrying. There was no lamp in the laboratory, but the three fierce
+eyes of the furnace shed a low red glare in different directions.
+Beroviero had given orders that the night boys should not come until he
+sent for them.
+
+"I thought it wiser to bring this over at night," he said, setting a
+small iron box on the table.
+
+It contained the secrets of Paolo Godi, which were worth a great fortune
+in those times.
+
+"Of all my possessions," said the old man, laying his hands upon the
+casket, "these are the most valuable. I will not hide them alone, as I
+might, because if any harm befell me they would be lost, and might be
+found by some unworthy person."
+
+"Could you not leave them with some one else, sir?" asked Zorzi.
+
+"No. I trust no one else. Let us hide them together to-night, for
+to-morrow I must leave Venice. Take up one of the large flagstones
+behind the annealing oven, and dig a hole underneath it in the ground.
+The place will be quite dry, from the heat of the oven."
+
+Zorzi lit a lamp with a splinter of wood which he thrust into the
+'bocca' of the furnace; he took a small crowbar from the corner and set
+to work. The laboratory contained all sorts of builder's tools, used
+when the furnace needed repairing. He raised one of the slabs with
+difficulty, turned it over, propped it with a billet of beech wood, and
+began to scoop out a hole in the hard earth, using a mason's trowel.
+Beroviero watched him, holding the box in his hands.
+
+"The lock is not very good," he said, "but I thought the box might keep
+the packet from dampness."
+
+"Is the packet properly sealed?" asked Zorzi, looking up.
+
+"You shall see," answered the master, and he set down the box beside the
+lamp, on the broad stone at the mouth of the annealing oven. "It is
+better that you should see for yourself."
+
+He unlocked the box and took out what seemed to be a small book,
+carefully tied up in a sheet of parchment. The ends of the silk cord
+below the knot were pinched in a broad red seal. Zorzi examined the wax.
+
+"You sealed it with a glass seal," he observed. "It would not be hard to
+make another."
+
+"Do you think it would be so easy?" asked Beroviero, who had made the
+seal himself many years ago.
+
+Zorzi held the impression nearer to the lamp and scrutinised it closely.
+
+"No one will have a chance to try," he said, with a slight gesture of
+indifference. "It might not be so easy."
+
+The old man looked at him a moment, as if hesitating, and then put the
+packet back into the box and locked the latter with the key that hung
+from his neck by a small silver chain.
+
+"I trust you," he said, and he gave the box to Zorzi, to be deposited in
+the hole.
+
+Zorzi stood up, and taking a little tow from the supply used for
+cleaning the blow-pipes, he dipped it into the oil of the lamp and
+proceeded to grease the box carefully before hiding it.
+
+"It would rust," he explained.
+
+He laid the box in the hole and covered it with earth before placing the
+stone over it.
+
+"Be careful to make the stone lie quite flat," said Angelo, bending down
+and gathering his gown off the floor in a bunch at his knees. "If it
+does not lie flat, the stone will move when the boys tread on it, and
+they may think of taking it up."
+
+"It is very heavy," answered the young man. "It was as much as I could
+do to heave it up. You need not be afraid of the boys."
+
+"It is not a very safe place, I fear, after all," returned Beroviero
+doubtfully. "Be sure to leave no marks of the crowbar, and no loose
+earth near it."
+
+The heavy slab slipped into its bed with a soft thud. Zorzi took the
+lamp and examined the edges. One of them was a little chipped by the
+crowbar, and he rubbed it with the greasy tow and scattered dust over
+it. Then he got a cypress broom and swept the earth carefully away into
+a heap. Beroviero himself brought the shovel and held it close to the
+stones while Zorzi pushed the loose earth upon it.
+
+"Carry it out and scatter it in the garden," said the old man.
+
+It was the first time that he had allowed his affection for Zorzi to
+express itself so strongly, for he was generally a very cautious person.
+He took the young man's hand and held it a moment, pressing it kindly.
+
+"It was not I who made the law against strangers, and it was not meant
+for men like you," he added.
+
+Zorzi knew how much this meant from such a master and he would have
+found words for thanks, had he been able; but when he tried, they would
+not come.
+
+"You may trust me," was all he could say.
+
+Beroviero left him, and went down the dark corridor with the firm step
+of a man who knows his way without light.
+
+In the morning, when he left the house to begin his journey, Zorzi stood
+by the steps with the servant to steady the gondola for him. His horses
+were to be in waiting in Venice, whence he was to go over to the
+mainland. He nodded to the young man carelessly, but said nothing, and
+no one would have guessed how kindly he had spoken to him on the
+previous night. Giovanni Beroviero took ceremonious leave of his father,
+his cap in his hand, bending low, a lean man, twenty years older than
+Marietta, with an insignificant brow and clean-shaven, pointed jaw and
+greedy lips. Marietta stood within the shadow of the doorway, very pale.
+Nella was beside her, and Giovanni's wife, and further in, at a
+respectful distance, the serving-people, for the master's departure was
+an event of importance.
+
+The gondola pushed off when Beroviero had disappeared under the 'felse'
+with a final wave of the hand. Zorzi stood still, looking after his
+master, and Marietta came forward to the doorstep and pretended to watch
+the gondola also. Zorzi was the first to turn, and their eyes met. He
+had not expected to see her still there, and he started a little.
+Giovanni looked at him coldly.
+
+"You had better go to your work," he said in a sour tone. "I suppose my
+father has told you what to do."
+
+The young artist flushed, but answered quietly enough.
+
+"I am going to my work," he said. "I need no urging."
+
+Before he put on his cap, he bent his head to Marietta; then he passed
+on towards the bridge.
+
+"That fellow is growing insolent," said Giovanni to his sister, but he
+was careful that Zorzi should not hear the words. "I think I shall
+advise our father to turn him out."
+
+Marietta looked at her brother with something like contempt.
+
+"Since when has our father consulted you, or taken your advice?" she
+asked.
+
+"I presume he takes yours," retorted Giovanni, regretting that he could
+not instantly find a sharper answer, for he was not quick-witted though
+he was suspicious.
+
+"He needs neither yours nor mine," said Marietta, "and he trusts whom he
+pleases."
+
+"You seem inclined to defend his servants when they are insolent,"
+answered Giovanni.
+
+"For that matter, Zorzi is quite able to defend himself!" She turned her
+back on her brother and went towards the stairs, taking Nella with her.
+
+Giovanni glanced at her with annoyance and walked along the footway in
+the direction of his own glass-house, glad to go back to a place where
+he was absolute despot. But he had been really surprised that Marietta
+should boldly take the Dalmatian's side against him, and his narrow
+brain brooded upon the unexpected circumstance. Besides the dislike he
+felt for the young artist, his small pride resented the thought that his
+sister, who was to marry a Contarini, should condescend to the defence
+of a servant.
+
+Zorzi went his way calmly and spent the day in the laboratory. He was in
+a frame of mind in which such speeches as Giovanni's could make but
+little impression upon him, sensitive though he naturally was. Really
+great sorrows, or great joys or great emotions, make smaller ones almost
+impossible for the time. Men of vast ambition, whose deeds are already
+moving the world and making history, are sometimes as easily annoyed by
+trifles as a nervous woman; but he who knows that what is dearest to him
+is slipping from his hold, or has just been taken, is half paralysed in
+his sense of outward things. His own mind alone has power to give him a
+momentary relief.
+
+Herein lies one of the strongest problems of human nature. We say with
+assurance that the mind rules the body, we feel that the spirit in some
+way overshadows and includes the mind. Yet if this were really true the
+spirit--that is, the will--should have power against bodily pain, but
+not against moral suffering except with some help from a higher source.
+But it is otherwise. If the will of ordinary human beings could
+hypnotise the body against material sensation, the credit due to those
+brave believers in all ages who have suffered cruel torments for their
+faith would be singularly diminished. If the mind could dominate matter
+by ordinary concentration of thought, a bad toothache should have no
+effect upon the delicate imagination of the poet, and Napoleon would not
+have lost the decisive battle of his life by a fit of indigestion, as
+has been asserted.
+
+On the other hand, there was never yet a man of genius, or even of great
+talent, who was not aware that the most acute moral anguish can be
+momentarily forgotten, as if it did not exist for the time, by
+concentrating the mind upon its accustomed and favourite kind of work.
+Johnson wrote _Rasselas_ to pay for the funeral of his yet unburied
+mother, and Johnson was a man of heart if ever one lived; he could not
+have written the book if he had had a headache. Saints and ascetics
+without end and of many persuasions have resorted to bodily pain as a
+means of deadening the imagination and exalting the will or spirit. Some
+great thinkers have been invalids, but in every case their food, work
+has been done when they were temporarily free from pain. Perhaps the
+truth is on the side of those mystics who say that although the mind is
+of a higher nature than matter, it is so closely involved with it that
+neither can get away from the other, and that both together tend to shut
+out the spirit and to forget its existence, which is a perpetual
+reproach to them; and any ordinary intellectual effort being produced by
+the joint activity of mind and the matter through which the mind acts,
+the condition of the spirit at the time has little or no effect upon
+them, nor upon what they are doing. And if one would carry the little
+theory further, one might find that the greatest works of genius have
+been produced when the effort of mind and matter has taken place under
+the inspiration of the spirit, so that all three were momentarily
+involved together. But such thoughts lead far, and it may be that they
+profit little. The best which a man means to do is generally better than
+the best he does, and it is perhaps the best he is capable of doing.
+
+Be these things as they may, Zorzi worked hard in the laboratory,
+minutely carrying out the instructions he had received, but reasoning
+upon them with a freshness and keenness of thought of which his master
+was no longer capable. When he had made the trials and had added the new
+ingredients for future ones, he began to think out methods of his own
+which had suggested themselves to him of late, but which he had never
+been able to try. But though he had the furnace to himself, to use as
+long as he could endure the heat of the advancing summer, he was face
+to face with a difficulty that seemed insuperable.
+
+The furnace had but three crucibles, each of which contained one of the
+mixtures by means of which he and Beroviero were trying to produce the
+famous red glass. In order to begin to make glass in his own way, it was
+necessary that one of the three should be emptied, but unless he
+disobeyed his orders this was out of the question. In his train of
+thought and longing to try what he felt sure must succeed, he had
+forgotten the obstacle. The check brought him back to himself, and he
+walked disconsolately up and down the long room by the side of the
+furnace.
+
+Everything was against him, said the melancholy little demon that
+torments genius on dark days. It was not enough that he should be forced
+by every consideration of honour and wisdom to hide his love for his
+master's daughter; when he took refuge in his art and tried to throw his
+whole life into it, he was stopped at the outset by the most impassable
+barriers of impossibility. The furious desire to create, which is the
+strength as well as the essence of genius, surged up and dashed itself
+to futile spray upon the face of the solid rock.
+
+He stood still before the hanging shelves on which he had placed the
+objects he had occasionally made, and which his master allowed him to
+keep there--light, air-thin vessels of graceful shapes: an ampulla of
+exquisite outline with a long curved spout that bent upwards and then
+outwards and over like the stalk of a lily of the valley; a large
+drinking-glass set on a stem so slender that one would doubt its
+strength to carry the weight of a full measure, yet so strong that the
+cup might have been filled with lead without breaking it; a broad dish
+that was nothing but a shadow against the light, but in the shadow was a
+fair design of flowers, drawn free with a diamond point; there were a
+dozen of such things on the shelves, not the best that Zorzi had made,
+for those Beroviero took to his own house and used on great occasions,
+while these were the results of experiments unheard of in those days,
+and which not long afterwards made a school.
+
+In his present frame of mind Zorzi felt a foolish impulse to take them
+down and smash them one by one in the big jar into which the failures
+were thrown, to be melted again in the main furnace, for in a
+glass-house nothing is thrown away. He knew it was foolish, and he held
+his hands behind him as he looked at the things, wishing that he had
+never made them, that he had never learned the art he was forbidden by
+law to practise, that he had never left Dalmatia as a little boy long
+ago, that he had never been born.
+
+The door opened suddenly and Giovanni entered. Zorzi turned and looked
+at him in silence. He was surprised, but he supposed that the master's
+son had a right to come if he chose, though he never showed himself in
+the glass-house when his father was in Murano.
+
+"Are you alone here?" asked Giovanni, looking about him. "Do none of the
+workmen come here?"
+
+"The master has left me in charge of his work," answered Zorzi. "I need
+no help."
+
+Giovanni seated himself in his father's chair and looked at the table
+before the window.
+
+"It is not very hard work, I fancy," he observed, crossing one leg over
+the other and pulling up his black hose to make it fit his lean calf
+better.
+
+Zorzi suspected at once that he had come in search of information, and
+paused before answering.
+
+"The work needs careful attention," he said at last.
+
+"Most glass-work does," observed Giovanni, with a harsh little laugh.
+"Are you very attentive, then? Do you remember to do all that my father
+told you?"
+
+"The master only left this morning. So far, I have obeyed his orders."
+
+"I do not understand how a man who is not a glass-blower can know enough
+to be left alone in charge of a furnace," said Giovanni, looking at
+Zorzi's profile.
+
+This time Zorzi was silent. He did not think it necessary to tell how
+much he knew.
+
+"I suppose my father knows what he is about," continued Giovanni, in a
+tone of disapproval.
+
+Zorzi thought so too, and no reply seemed necessary. He stood still,
+looking out of the window, and wishing that his visitor would go away.
+But Giovanni had no such intention.
+
+"What are you making?" he asked presently.
+
+"A certain kind of glass," Zorzi answered.
+
+"A new colour?"
+
+"A certain colour. That is all I can tell you."
+
+"You can tell me what colour it is," said Giovanni. "Why are you so
+secret? Even if my father had ordered you to be silent with me about his
+work, which I do not believe, you would not be betraying anything by
+telling me that. What colour is he trying to make?"
+
+"I am to say nothing about it, not even to you. I obey my orders."
+
+Giovanni was a glass-maker himself. He rose with an air of annoyance and
+crossed the laboratory to the jar in which the broken glass was kept,
+took out a piece and held it up against the light. Zorzi had made a
+movement as if to hinder him, but he realised at once that he could not
+lay hands on his master's son. Giovanni laughed contemptuously and threw
+the fragment back into the jar.
+
+"Is that all? I can do better than that myself!" he said, and he sat
+down again in the big chair.
+
+His eyes fell on the shelves upon which Zorzi's specimens of work were
+arranged. He looked at them with interest, at once understanding their
+commercial value.
+
+"My father can make good things when he is not wasting time over
+discoveries," he remarked, and rising again he went nearer and began to
+examine the little objects.
+
+Zorzi said nothing, and after looking at them a long time Giovanni
+turned away and stood before the furnace. The copper ladle with which
+the specimens were taken from the pots lay on the brick ledge near one
+of the 'boccas.' Giovanni took it, looked round to see where the iron
+plate for testing was placed, and thrust the ladle into the aperture,
+holding it lightly lest the heat should hurt his hand.
+
+"You shall not do that!" cried Zorzi, who was already beside him.
+
+Before Giovanni knew what was happening Zorzi had struck the ladle from
+his hand, and it disappeared through the 'bocca' into the white-hot
+glass within.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+With an oath Giovanni raised his hand to strike Zorzi in the face, but
+the quick Dalmatian snatched up his heavy blow-pipe in both hands and
+stood in an attitude of defence.
+
+"If you try to strike me, I shall defend myself," he said quietly.
+
+Giovanni's sour face turned grey with fright, and then as his impotent
+anger rose, the grey took an almost greenish hue that was bad to see. He
+smiled in a sickly fashion. Zorzi set the blow-pipe upright against the
+furnace and watched him, for he saw that the man was afraid of him and
+might act treacherously.
+
+"You need not be so violent," said Giovanni, and his voice trembled a
+little, as he recovered himself. "After all, my father would not have
+made any objection to my trying the glass. If I had, I could not have
+guessed how it was made."
+
+Zorzi did not answer, for he had discovered that silence was his best
+weapon. Giovanni continued, in the peevish tone of a man who has been
+badly frightened and is ashamed of it.
+
+"It only shows how ignorant you are of glass-making, if you suppose that
+my father would care." As he still got no reply beyond a shrug of the
+shoulders, he changed the subject. "Did you see my father make any of
+those things?" he asked, pointing to the shelves.
+
+"No," answered Zorzi.
+
+"But he made them all here, did he not?" insisted Giovanni. "And you are
+always with him."
+
+"He did not make any of them."
+
+Giovanni opened his eyes in astonishment. In his estimation there was no
+man living, except his father, who could have done such work. Zorzi
+smiled, for he knew what the other's astonishment meant.
+
+"I made them all," he said, unable to resist the temptation to take the
+credit that was justly his.
+
+"You made those things?" repeated Giovanni incredulously.
+
+But Zorzi was not in the least offended by his disbelief. The more
+sceptical Giovanni was, the greater the honour in having produced
+anything so rarely beautiful.
+
+"I made those, and many others which the master keeps in his house," he
+said.
+
+Giovanni would have liked to give him the lie, but he dared not just
+then.
+
+"If you made them, you could make something of the kind again," he said.
+"I should like to see that. Take your blow-pipe and try. Then I shall
+believe you."
+
+"There is no white glass in the furnace," answered Zorzi. "If there
+were, I would show you what I can do."
+
+Giovanni laughed sourly.
+
+"I thought you would find some good excuse," he said.
+
+"The master saw me do the work," answered Zorzi unconcernedly. "Ask him
+about it when he comes back."
+
+"There are other furnaces in the glass-house," suggested Giovanni. "Why
+not bring your blow-pipe with you and show the workmen as well as me
+what you can do?"
+
+Zorzi hesitated. It suddenly occurred to him that this might be a
+decisive moment in his life, in which the future would depend on the
+decision he made. In all the years since he had been with Beroviero he
+had never worked at one of the great furnaces among the other men.
+
+"I daresay your sense of responsibility is so great that you do not like
+to leave the laboratory, even for half an hour," said Giovanni
+scornfully. "But you have to go home at night."
+
+"I sleep here," answered Zorzi.
+
+"Indeed?" Giovanni was surprised. "I see that your objections are
+insuperable," he added with a laugh.
+
+Zorzi was in one of those moods in which a man feels that he has nothing
+to lose. There might, however, be something to gain by exhibiting his
+skill before Giovanni and the men. His reputation as a glass-maker would
+be made in half an hour.
+
+"Since you do not believe me, come," he said at last. "You shall see for
+yourself."
+
+He took his blow-pipe and thrust it through one of the 'boccas' to melt
+off the little red glass that adhered to it. Then he cooled it in water,
+and carefully removed the small particles that stuck to the iron here
+and there like spots of glazing.
+
+"I am ready," he said, when he had finished.
+
+Giovanni rose and led the way, without a word. Zorzi followed him, shut
+the door, turned the key twice and thrust it into the bosom of his
+doublet. Giovanni turned and watched him.
+
+"You are really very cautions," he said. "Do you always lock the door
+when you go out?"
+
+"Always," answered Zorzi, shouldering his blow-pipe.
+
+They crossed the little garden and entered the passage that led to the
+main furnace rooms. In the first they entered, eight or ten men and
+youths, masters and apprentices, were at work. The place was higher and
+far more spacious than the laboratory, the furnace was broader and
+taller and had four mouths instead of three. The sunlight streamed
+through a window high above the floor and fell upon the arched back of
+the annealing oven, the window being so placed that the sun could never
+shine upon the working end and dazzle the workmen.
+
+When Giovanni and Zorzi entered, the men were working in silence. The
+low and steady roar of the flames was varied by the occasional sharp
+click of iron or the soft sound of hot glass rolling on the marver, or
+by the hiss of a metal instrument plunged into water to cool it. Every
+man had an apprentice to help him, and two boys tended the fire. The
+foreman sat at a table, busy with an account, a small man, even paler
+than the others and dressed in shabby brown hose and a loose brown coat.
+The workmen wore only hose and shirts.
+
+Without desisting from their occupations they cast surprised glances at
+Giovanni and his companion, whom they all hated as a favoured person.
+One of them was finishing a drinking-glass, rolling the pontil on the
+arms of the working-stool; another, a beetle-browed fellow, swung his
+long blow-pipe with its lump of glowing glass in a full circle, high in
+air and almost to touch the ground; another was at a 'bocca' in the low
+glare; all were busy, and the air was very hot and close. The men looked
+grim and ill-tempered.
+
+Giovanni explained the object of his coming in a way intended to
+conciliate them to himself at Zorzi's expense. Their presence gave him
+courage.
+
+"This is Zorzi, the man without a name," he said, "who is come from
+Dalmatia to give us a lesson in glass-blowing."
+
+One of the men laughed, and the apprentices tittered. The others looked
+as if they did not understand. Zorzi had known well enough what humour
+he should find among them, but he would not let the taunt go unanswered.
+
+"Sirs," he said, for they all claimed the nobility of the glass-blowers'
+caste, "I come not to teach you, but to prove to the master's son that I
+can make some trifle in the manner of your art."
+
+No one spoke. The workmen in the elder Beroviero's house knew well
+enough that Zorzi was a better artist than they, and they had no mind to
+let him outdo them at their own furnace.
+
+"Will any one of you gentlemen allow me to use his place?" asked Zorzi
+civilly.
+
+Not a man answered. In the sullen silence the busy hands moved with
+quick skill, the furnace roared, the glowing glass grew in ever-changing
+shapes.
+
+"One of you must give Zorzi his place," said Giovanni, in a tone of
+authority.
+
+The little foreman turned quite round in his chair and looked on. There
+was no reply. The pale men went on with their work as if Giovanni were
+not there, and Zorzi leaned calmly on his blow-pipe. Giovanni moved a
+step forward and spoke directly to one of the men who had just dropped a
+finished glass into the bed of soft wood ashes, to be taken to the
+annealing oven.
+
+"Stop working for a while," he said. "Let Zorzi have your place."
+
+"The foreman gives orders here, not you," answered the man coolly, and
+he prepared to begin another piece.
+
+Giovanni was very angry, but there were too many of the workmen, and he
+did not say what rose to his lips, but crossed over to the foreman.
+Zorzi kept his place, waiting to see what might happen.
+
+"Will you be so good as to order one of the men to give up his place?"
+Giovanni asked.
+
+The old foreman smiled at this humble acknowledgment of his authority,
+but he argued the point before acceding.
+
+"The men know well enough what Zorzi can do," he answered in a low
+voice. "They dislike him, because he is not one of us. I advise you to
+take him to your own glass-house, sir, if you wish to see him work. You
+will only make trouble here."
+
+"I am not afraid of any trouble, I tell you," replied Giovanni. "Please
+do what I ask."
+
+"Very well. I will, but I take no responsibility before the master if
+there is a disturbance. The men are in a bad humour and the weather is
+hot."
+
+"I will be responsible to my father," said Giovanni.
+
+"Very well," repeated the old man. "You are a glass-maker yourself, like
+the rest of us. You know how we look upon foreigners who steal their
+knowledge of our art."
+
+"I wish to make sure that he has really stolen something of it."
+
+The foreman laughed outright.
+
+"You will be convinced soon enough!" he said. "Give your place to the
+foreigner, Piero," he added, speaking to the man who had refused to move
+at Giovanni's bidding.
+
+Piero at once chilled the fresh lump of glass he had begun to fashion
+and smashed it off the tube into the refuse jar. Without a word Zorzi
+took his place. While he warmed the end of his blow-pipe at the 'bocca'
+he looked to right and left to see where the working-stool and marver
+were placed, and to be sure that the few tools he needed were at hand,
+the pontil, the 'procello,'--that is, the small elastic tongs for
+modelling--and the shears. Piero's apprentice had retired to a distance,
+as he had received no special orders, and the workmen hoped that Zorzi
+would find himself in difficulty at the moment when he would turn in the
+expectation of finding the assistant at his elbow. But Zorzi was used to
+helping himself. He pushed his blow-pipe into the melted glass and drew
+it out, let it cool a moment and then thrust it in again to take up more
+of the stuff.
+
+The men went on with their work, seeming to pay no attention to him, and
+Piero turned his back and talked to the foreman in low tones. Only
+Giovanni watched, standing far enough back to be out of reach of the
+long blow-pipe if Zorzi should unexpectedly swing it to its full length.
+Zorzi was confident and unconcerned, though he was fully aware that the
+men were watching every movement he made, while pretending not to see.
+He knew also that owing to his being partly self-taught he did certain
+things in ways of his own. They should see that his ways were as good as
+theirs, and what was more, that he needed no help, while none of them
+could do anything without an apprentice.
+
+The glass grew and swelled, lengthened and contracted with his breath
+and under his touch, and the men, furtively watching him, were amazed to
+see how much he could do while the piece was still on the blow-pipe.
+But when he could do no more they thought that he would have trouble. He
+did not even turn his head to see whether any one was near to help him.
+At the exact moment when the work was cool enough to stand he attached
+the pontil with its drop of liquid glass to the lower end, as he had
+done many a time in the laboratory, and before those who looked on could
+fully understand how he had done it without assistance, the long and
+heavy blow-pipe lay on the floor and Zorzi held his piece on the lighter
+pontil, heating it again at the fire.
+
+The men did not stop working, but they glanced at each other and nodded,
+when Zorzi could not see them. Giovanni uttered a low exclamation of
+surprise. The foreman alone now watched Zorzi with genuine admiration;
+there was no mistaking the jealous attitude of the others. It was not
+the mean envy of the inferior artist, either, for they were men who, in
+their way, loved art as Beroviero himself did, and if Zorzi had been a
+new companion recently promoted from the state of apprenticeship in the
+guild, they would have looked on in wonder and delight, even if, at the
+very beginning, he outdid them all. What they felt was quite different.
+It was the deep, fierce hatred of the mediaeval guildsman for the
+stranger who had stolen knowledge without apprenticeship and without
+citizenship, and it was made more intense because the glass-blowers were
+the only guild that excluded every foreign-born man, without any
+exception. It was a shame to them to be outdone by one who had not
+their blood, nor their teaching, nor their high acknowledged rights.
+
+They were peaceable men in their way, not given to quarrelling, nor
+vicious; yet, excepting the mild old foreman, there was not one of them
+who would not gladly have brought his iron blow-pipe down on Zorzi's
+head with a two-handed swing, to strike the life out of the intruder.
+
+Zorzi's deft hands made the large piece he was forming spin on itself
+and take new shape at every turn, until it had the perfect curve of
+those slim-necked Eastern vessels for pouring water upon the hands,
+which have not even now quite degenerated from their early grace of
+form. While it was still very hot, he took a sharp pointed knife from
+his belt and with a turn of his hand cut a small round hole, low down on
+one side. The mouth was widened and then turned in and out like the leaf
+of a carnation. He left the cooling piece on the pontil, lying across
+the arms of the stool, and took his blow-pipe again.
+
+"Has the fellow not finished his tricks yet?" asked Piero
+discontentedly.
+
+It would have given him pleasure to smash the beautiful thing to atoms
+where it lay, almost within his reach. Zorzi began to make the spout,
+for it was a large ampulla that he was fashioning. He drew the glass
+out, widened it, narrowed it, cut it, bent it and finished off the
+nozzle before he touched it with wet iron and made it drop into the
+ashes. A moment later he had heated the thick end of it again and was
+welding it over the hole he had made in the body of the vessel.
+
+"The man has three hands!" exclaimed the foreman.
+
+"And two of them are for stealing," added Piero.
+
+"Or all three," put in the beetle-browed man who was working next to
+Zorzi.
+
+Zorzi looked at him coldly a moment, but said nothing. They did not mean
+that he was a thief, except in the sense that he had stolen his
+knowledge of their art. He went on to make the handle of the ampulla, an
+easy matter compared with making the spout. But the highest part of
+glass-blowing lies in shaping graceful curves, and it is often in the
+smallest differences of measurement that the pieces made by Beroviero
+and Zorzi--preserved intact to this day--differ from similar things made
+by lesser artists. Yet in those little variations lies all the great
+secret that divides grace from awkwardness. Zorzi now had the whole
+vessel, with its spout and handle, on the pontil. It was finished, but
+he could still ornament it. His own instinct was to let it alone,
+leaving its perfect shape and airy lightness to be its only beauty, and
+he turned it thoughtfully as he looked at it, hesitating whether he
+should detach it from the iron, or do more.
+
+"If you have finished your nonsense, let me come back to my work," said
+Piero behind him.
+
+Zorzi did not turn to answer, for he had decided to add some delicate
+ornaments, merely to show Giovanni that he was a full master of the art.
+The dark-browed man had just collected a heavy lump of glass on the end
+of his blow-pipe, and was blowing into it before giving it the first
+swing that would lengthen it out. He and Piero exchanged glances,
+unnoticed by Zorzi, who had become almost unconscious of their hostile
+presence. He began to take little drops of glass from the furnace on the
+end of a thin iron, and he drew them out into thick threads and heated
+them again and laid them on the body of the ampulla, twisting and
+turning each bit till he had no more, and forming a regular raised
+design on the surface. His neighbour seemed to get no further with what
+he was doing, though he busily heated and reheated his lump of glass and
+again and again swung his blow-pipe round his head, and backward and
+forward. The foreman was too much interested in Zorzi to notice what the
+others were doing.
+
+Zorzi was putting the last touches to his work. In a moment it would be
+finished and ready to go to the annealing oven, though he was even then
+reflecting that the workmen would certainly break it up as soon as the
+foreman turned his back. The man next to him swung his blow-pipe again,
+loaded with red-hot glass.
+
+It slipped from his hand, and the hot mass, with the full weight of the
+heavy iron behind it, landed on Zorzi's right foot, three paces away,
+with frightful force. He uttered a sharp cry of surprise and pain. The
+lovely vessel he had made flew from his hands and broke into a thousand
+tiny fragments. In excruciating agony he lifted the injured foot from
+the ground and stood upon the other. Not a hand was stretched out to
+help him, and he felt that he was growing dizzy. He made a frantic
+effort to hop on one leg towards the furnace, so as to lean against the
+brickwork. Piero laughed.
+
+"He is a dancer!" he cried. "He is a 'ballarino'!" The others all
+laughed, too, and the name remained his as long as he lived--he was
+Zorzi Ballarin.
+
+The old foreman came to help him, seeing that he was really injured, for
+no one had quite realised it at first. Savagely as they hated him, the
+workmen would not have tortured him, though they might have killed him
+outright if they had dared. Excepting Piero and the man who had hurt
+him, the workmen all went on with their work.
+
+He was ghastly pale, and great drops of sweat rolled down his forehead
+as he reached the foreman's chair and sat down: but after the first cry
+he had uttered, he made no sound. The foreman could hear how his teeth
+ground upon each other as he mastered the frightful suffering. Giovanni
+came, and stood looking at the helpless foot, smashed by the weight that
+had fallen upon it and burned to the bone in an instant by the molten
+glass.
+
+"I cannot walk," he said at last to the foreman. "Will you help me?"
+
+His voice was steady but weak. The foreman and Giovanni helped him to
+stand on his left foot, and putting his arms round their necks he swung
+himself along as he could. The dark man had picked up his blow-pipe and
+was at work again.
+
+"You will pay for that when the master comes back," Piero said to him as
+Zorzi passed. "You will starve if you are not careful."
+
+Zorzi turned his head and looked the dark man full in the eyes.
+
+"It was an accident," he said faintly. "You did not mean to do it."
+
+The man looked away shamefacedly, for he knew that even if he had not
+meant to injure Zorzi for life, he had meant to hurt him if he could.
+
+As for Giovanni, he was puzzled by all that had happened so
+unexpectedly, for he was a dull man, though very keen for gain, and he
+did not understand human nature. He disliked Zorzi, but during the
+morning he had become convinced that the gifted young artist was a
+valuable piece of property, and not, as he had supposed, a clever
+flatterer who had wormed himself into old Beroviero's confidence. A man
+who could make such things was worth much money to his master. There
+were kings and princes, from the Pope to the Emperor, who would have
+given a round sum in gold for the beautiful ampulla of which only a heap
+of tiny fragments were now left to be swept away.
+
+The two men brought Zorzi across the garden to the door of the
+laboratory. Leaning heavily on the foreman he got the key out, and
+Giovanni turned it in the lock. They would have taken him to the small
+inner room, to lay him on his pallet bed, but he would not go.
+
+"The bench," he managed to say, indicating it with a nod of his head.
+
+There was an old leathern pillow in the big chair. The foreman took it
+and placed it under Zorzi's head.
+
+"We must get a surgeon to dress his wound," said the foreman.
+
+"I will send for one," answered Giovanni. "Is there anything you want
+now?" he asked, with an attempt to speak kindly to the valuable piece of
+property that lay helpless before him.
+
+"Water," said Zorzi very faintly. "And feed the fire--it must be time."
+
+The foreman dipped a cupful of water from an earthen jar, held up his
+head and helped him to drink. Giovanni pushed some wood into the
+furnace.
+
+"I will send for a surgeon," he repeated, and went out.
+
+Zorzi closed his eyes, and the foreman stood looking at him.
+
+"Do not stay here," Zorzi said. "You can do nothing for me, and the
+surgeon will come presently."
+
+Then the foreman also left him, and he was alone. It was not in his
+nature to give way to bodily pain, but he was glad the men were gone,
+for he could not have borne much more in silence. He turned his head to
+the wall and bit the edge of the leathern cushion. Now and then his
+whole body shook convulsively.
+
+He did not hear the door open again, for the torturing pain that shot
+through him dulled all his other senses. He wished that he might faint
+away, even for a moment, but his nerves were too sound for that. He was
+recalled to outer things by feeling a hand laid gently on his leg, and
+immediately afterwards he heard a man's voice, in a quietly gruff tone
+that scarcely rose or fell, reciting a whole litany of the most
+appalling blasphemies that ever fell from human lips. For an instant, in
+his suffering, Zorzi fancied that he had died and was in the clutches of
+Satan himself.
+
+He turned his head on the cushion and saw the ugly face of the old
+porter, who was bending down and examining the wounded foot while he
+steadily cursed everything in heaven and earth, with an earnestness that
+would have been grotesque had his language been less frightful. For a
+few moments Zorzi almost forgot that he was hurt, as he listened. Not a
+saint in the calendar seemed likely to escape the porter's fury, and he
+even went to the length of cursing the relatives, male and female, of
+half-legendary martyrs and other good persons about whose families he
+could not possibly know anything.
+
+"For heaven's sake, Pasquale!" cried Zorzi. "You will certainly be
+struck by lightning!"
+
+He had always supposed that the porter hated him, as every one else did,
+and he could not understand. By this time he was far more helpless than
+he had been just after he had been hurt, and when he tried to move the
+injured foot to a more comfortable position it felt like a lump of
+scorching lead.
+
+The porter entered upon a final malediction, which might be supposed to
+have gathered destructive force by collecting into itself all those that
+had gone before, and he directed the whole complex anathema upon the
+soul of the coward who had done the foul deed, and upon his mother, his
+sisters and his daughters if he had any, and upon the souls of all his
+dead relations, men, women and children, and all of his relations that
+should ever be born, to the end of time. He had been a sailor in his
+youth.
+
+"Who did that to you?" he asked, when he had thus devoted the unknown
+offender to everlasting perdition.
+
+"Give me some water, please," said Zorzi, instead of answering the
+question.
+
+"Water! Oh yes!" Pasquale went to the earthen jar. "Water! Every devil
+in hell, old and young, will jump and laugh for joy when that man asks
+for water and has to drink flames!"
+
+Zorzi drank eagerly, though the water was tepid.
+
+"Drink, my son," said Pasquale, holding his head up very tenderly with
+one of his rough hands. "I will put more within reach for you to drink,
+while I go and get help."
+
+"They have sent for a surgeon," answered Zorzi.
+
+"A surgeon? No surgeon shall come here. A surgeon will divide you into
+lengths, fore and aft, and kill you by inches, a length each day, and
+for every day he takes to kill you, he will ask a piece of silver of the
+master! If a surgeon comes here I will throw him out into the canal.
+This is a burn, and it needs an old woman to dress it. Women are evil
+beings, a chastisement sent upon us for our sins. But an old woman can
+dress a burn. I go. There is the water."
+
+Zorzi called him back when he was already at the door.
+
+"The fire! It must not go down. Put a little wood in, Pasquale!"
+
+The old porter grumbled. It was unnatural that a man so badly hurt
+should think of his duties, but in his heart he admired Zorzi all the
+more for it. He took some wood, and when Zorzi looked, he was trying to
+poke it through the 'bocca.'
+
+"Not there!" cried Zorzi desperately. "The small opening on the side,
+near the floor."
+
+Pasquale uttered several maledictions.
+
+"How should I know?" he asked when he had found the right place. "Am I a
+night boy? Have I ever tended fires for two pence a night and my supper?
+There! I go!"
+
+Zorzi could hear his voice still, as he went out.
+
+"A surgeon!" he grumbled. "I should like to see the nose of that surgeon
+at the door!"
+
+Zorzi cared little who came, so that he got some relief. His head was
+hot now, and the blood beat in his temples like little fiery hammers,
+that made a sort of screaming noise in his brain. He saw queer lights in
+circles, and the beams of the ceiling came down very near, and then
+suddenly went very far away, so that the room seemed a hundred feet
+high. The pain filled all his right side, and he even thought he could
+feel it in his arm.
+
+All at once he started, and as he lay on his back his hands tried to
+grip the flat wood of the bench, and his eyes were wide open and fixed
+in a sort of frightened stare.
+
+What if he should go mad with pain? Who would remember the fire in the
+master's furnace? Worse than that, what safety was there that in his
+delirium he should not speak of the book that was hidden under the
+stone, the third from the oven and the fourth from the corner?
+
+His brain whirled but he would not go mad, nor lose consciousness, so
+long as he had the shadow of free will left. Rather than lie there on
+his back, he would get off his bench, cost what it might, and drag
+himself to the mouth of the furnace. There was a supply of wood there,
+piled up by the night boys for use during the day. He could get to it,
+even if he had to roll himself over and over on the floor. If he could
+do that, he could keep his hold upon his consciousness, the touch of the
+billets would remind him, the heat and the roar of the fire would keep
+him awake and in his right mind.
+
+He raised himself slowly and put his uninjured foot to the floor. Then,
+with both hands he lifted the other leg off the bench. He was conscious
+of an increase of pain, which had seemed impossible. It shot through and
+through his whole body; and he saw flames. There was only one way to do
+it, he must get down upon his hands and his left knee and drag himself
+to the furnace in that way. It was a thing of infinite difficulty and
+suffering, but he did it. Inch by inch, he got nearer.
+
+As his right hand grasped a billet of wood from the little pile,
+something seemed to break in his head. His strength collapsed, he fell
+forward from his knee to his full length in the ashes and dust, and he
+felt nothing more.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+The porter unbarred the door and looked out. It was nearly noon and the
+southerly breeze was blowing. The footway was almost deserted. On the
+other side of the canal, in the shadow of the Beroviero house, an old
+man who sold melons in slices had gone to sleep under a bit of ragged
+awning, and the flies had their will of him and his wares. A small boy
+simply dressed in a shirt, and nothing else, stood at a little distance,
+looking at the fruit and listening attentively to the voice of the
+tempter that bade him help himself.
+
+Pasquale looked at the house opposite. Everything was quiet, and the
+shutters were drawn together, but not quite closed. The flowers outside
+Marietta's window waved in the light breeze.
+
+"Nella!" cried Pasquale, just as he was accustomed to call the maid when
+Marietta wanted her.
+
+At the sound of his voice the little boy, who was about to deal
+effectually with his temptation by yielding to it at once, took to his
+heels and ran away. But no one looked out from the house. Pasquale
+called again, somewhat louder. The shutters of Marietta's window were
+slowly opened inward and Marietta herself appeared, all in white and
+pale, looking over the flowers.
+
+"What is it?" she asked. "Why do you want Nella?"
+
+The canal was narrow, so that one could talk across it almost in an
+ordinary tone.
+
+"Your pardon, lady," answered Pasquale. "I did not mean to disturb you.
+There has been a little accident here, saving your grace."
+
+This he added to avert possible ill fortune. Marietta instantly thought
+of Zorzi. She leaned forward upon the window-sill above the flowers and
+spoke anxiously.
+
+"What has happened? Tell me quickly!"
+
+"A man has had his foot badly burned--it must be dressed at once."
+
+"Who is it?"
+
+"Zorzi."
+
+Pasquale saw that Marietta started a little and drew back. Then she
+leaned forward again.
+
+"Wait there a minute," she said, and disappeared quickly.
+
+The porter heard her calling Nella from an inner room, and then he heard
+Nella's voice indistinctly. He waited before the open door.
+
+Nella was a born chatterer, but she had her good qualities, and in an
+emergency she was silent and skilful.
+
+"Leave it to me," she said. "He will need no surgeon."
+
+In her room she had a small store of simple remedies, sweet oil, a pot
+of balsam, old linen carefully rolled up in little bundles, a precious
+ointment made from the fat of vipers, which was a marvellous cure for
+rheumatism in the joints, some syrup of poppies in a stumpy phial, a box
+of powdered iris root, and another of saffron. She took the sweet oil,
+the balsam, and some linen. She also took a small pair of scissors which
+were among her most precious possessions. She threw her large black
+kerchief over her head and pinned it together under her chin.
+
+When she came back to Marietta's room, her mistress was wrapped in a
+dark mantle that covered hear thin white dress entirely, and one corner
+of it was drawn up over her head so as to hide her hair and almost all
+her face. She was waiting by the door.
+
+"I am going with you," she said, and her voice was not very steady.
+
+"But you will be seen--" began Nella.
+
+"By the porter."
+
+"Your brother may see you--"
+
+"He is welcome. Come, we are losing time." She opened the door and went
+out quickly.
+
+"I shall certainly be sent away for letting you come!" protested Nella,
+hurrying after her.
+
+Marietta did not even answer this, which Nella thought very unkind of
+her. From the main staircase Marietta turned off at the first landing,
+and went down a short corridor to the back stairs of the house, which
+led to the narrow lane beside the building. Nella snorted softly in
+approval, for she had feared that her mistress would boldly pass through
+the hall where there were always one or two idle men-servants in
+waiting. The front door was closed against the heat, they had met no one
+and they reached the door of the glass-house without being seen.
+
+Pasquale looked at Marietta but said nothing until all three were
+inside. Then he took hold of Marietta's mantle at her elbow, and held
+her back. She turned and looked at him in amazement.
+
+"You must not go in, lady," he said. "It is an ugly wound to see."
+
+Marietta pushed him aside quietly, and led the way. Nella followed her
+as fast as she could, and Pasquale came last. He knew that the two women
+would need help.
+
+Zorzi lay quite still where he had fallen, with one hand on the billet
+of beech wood, the other arm doubled under him, his cheek on the dusty
+stone. With a sharp cry Marietta ran forward and knelt beside his head,
+dropping her long mantle as she crossed the room. Pasquale uttered an
+uncompromising exclamation of surprise.
+
+"O, most holy Mary!" cried Nella, holding up her hands with the things
+she carried.
+
+Marietta believed that Zorzi was dead, for he was very white and he lay
+quite still. At first she opened her eyes wide in horror, but in a
+moment she sank down, covering her face. Pasquale knelt opposite her on
+one knee, and began to turn Zorzi on his back. Nella was at his feet,
+and she helped, with great gentleness.
+
+"Do not be frightened, lady," said Pasquale reassuringly. "He has only
+fainted. I left him on the bench, but you see he must have tried to get
+up to feed the fire."
+
+While he spoke he was lifting Zorzi as well as he could. Marietta
+dropped her hands and slowly opened her eyes, and she knew that Zorzi
+was alive when she saw his face, though it was ghastly and smeared with
+grey ashes. But in those few moments she had felt what she could never
+forget. It had been as if a vast sword-stroke had severed her body at
+the waist, and yet left her heart alive.
+
+"Can you help a little?" asked Pasquale. "If I could get him into my
+arms, I could carry him alone."
+
+Marietta sprang to her feet, all her energy and strength returning in a
+moment. The three carried the unconscious man easily enough to the bench
+and laid him down, as he had lain before, with his head on the leathern
+cushion. Then Nella set to work quickly and skilfully, for she hoped to
+dress the wound while he was still insensible. Marietta helped her,
+instinctively doing what was right. It was a hideous wound.
+
+"It will heal more quickly than you think," said Nella, confidently.
+"The burning has cauterised it."
+
+Marietta, delicately reared and unused to such sights, would have felt
+faint if the man had not been Zorzi. As it was she only felt sharp pain,
+each time that Nella touched the foot. Pasquale looked on, helpless but
+approving.
+
+Zorzi groaned, then opened his eyes and moved one hand. Nella had almost
+finished.
+
+"If only he can be kept quiet a few moments longer," she said, "it will
+be well done."
+
+Zorzi writhed in pain, only half conscious yet. Marietta left Nella to
+put on the last bandages, and came and looked down into his face, taking
+one of his hands in hers. He recognised her, and stared in wild
+surprise.
+
+"You must try and not move," she said softly. "Nella has almost
+finished."
+
+He forgot what he suffered, and the agonised contraction of his brows
+and mouth relaxed. Marietta wiped away the ashes from his forehead and
+cheeks, and smoothed back his thick hair. No woman's hand had touched
+him thus since his mother's when he had been a little child. He was too
+weak to question what was happening to him, but a soft light came into
+his eyes, and he unconsciously pressed Marietta's hand.
+
+She blushed at the pressure, without knowing why, and first the maiden
+instinct was to draw away her hand, but then she pitied him and let it
+stay. She thought, too, that her touch helped to keep him quiet, and
+indeed it did.
+
+"How did you know?" he asked at length, for in his half consciousness it
+had seemed natural that she should have come to him when she heard that
+he was hurt.
+
+"Pasquale called Nella," she answered simply, "and I came too. Is the
+pain still very great?"
+
+"It is much less. How can I thank you?"
+
+She looked into his eyes and smiled as he had seen her smile once or
+twice before in his life. His memory all came back now. He knew that
+she ought not to have been there, since her father was away. His
+expression changed suddenly.
+
+"What is the matter?" asked Marietta. "Does it hurt very much?"
+
+"No," he said. "I was thinking--" He checked himself, and glanced at the
+porter.
+
+A distant knocking was heard at the outer door, Pasquale shuffled off to
+see who was there.
+
+"I will wager that it is the surgeon!" he grumbled. "Evil befall his
+soul! We do not want him."
+
+"What were you going to say?" asked Marietta, bending down. "There is
+only Nella here now."
+
+"Nella should not have let you come," said Zorzi. "If it is known, your
+father will be very angry."
+
+"Ah, do you see?" cried Nella, rising, for she had finished. "Did I not
+tell you so, my pretty lady? And if your brother finds out that you have
+been here he will go into a fury like a wild beast! I told you so! And
+as for your help, indeed, I could have brought another woman, and there
+was Pasquale, too. I suppose he has hands. Oh, there will be a beautiful
+revolution in the house when this is known!"
+
+But Marietta did not mean to acknowledge that she had done anything but
+what was perfectly right and natural under the circumstances; to admit
+that would have been to confess that she had not come merely out of pity
+and human kindness.
+
+"It is absurd," she said with a little indignation. "I shall tell my
+brother myself that Zorzi was hurt, and that I helped you to dress his
+wound. And what is more, Nella, you will have to come; again, and I
+shall come with you as often as I please. All Murano may know it for
+anything I care."
+
+"And Venice too?" asked Nella, shaking her head in disapproval. "What
+will they say in Casa Contarini when they hear that you have actually
+gone out of the house to help a wounded young man in your father's
+glass-house?"
+
+"If they are human, they will say that I was quite right," answered
+Marietta promptly. "If they are not, why should I care what they say?"
+
+Zorzi smiled. At that moment Pasquale passed the window, and then came
+in by the open door, growling. His ugly face was transfigured by rage,
+until it had a sort of grotesque grandeur, and he clenched his fist as
+he began to speak.
+
+"Animals! Beasts! Brutes! Worse than savages! He was almost incoherent.
+
+"Well? What has happened now?" asked. Nella. "You talk like a mad dog.
+Remember the young lady!"
+
+"It would make a leaden statue speak!" answered Pasquale. "The Signor
+Giovanni sends a boy to say that the Surgeon was not at home, because he
+had gone to shave the arch-priest of San Piero!"
+
+In spite of the great pain he still suffered, Zorzi laughed, a little.
+
+"You said that you would throw, him into the canal if he came at all,"
+he said.
+
+"Yes, and so I meant to do!" cried Pasquale. "But that is no reason why
+the inhuman monster should be shaving the arch-priest when a man might
+be dying for need of him! Oh, let him come here! Oh, I advise him to
+come! The miserable, cowardly, bloodletting, soap-sudding, shaving
+little beast of a barber!"
+
+Pasquale drew a long breath after this, and unclenched his fist, but his
+lips still moved, as he said things to himself which would have shocked
+Marietta if she could have had the least idea of what they meant.
+
+"You cannot stay here," she said, turning to Zorzi again. "You cannot
+lie on this bench all day."
+
+"I shall soon be able to stand," answered Zorzi confidently. "I am much
+better."
+
+"You will not stand on that foot for many a day," said Nella, shaking
+her head.
+
+"Then Pasquale must get me a pair of crutches," replied Zorzi. "I cannot
+lie on my back because I have hurt one foot. I must tend the furnace, I
+must go on with my work, I must make the tests, I must--"
+
+He stopped short and bit his lip, turning white again as a spasm of
+excruciating pain shot along his right side, from his foot upwards.
+Marietta bent over him, full of anxiety.
+
+"You are suffering!" she said tenderly. "You must not try to move."
+
+"It is nothing," he answered through his closed teeth. "It will pass, I
+daresay."
+
+"It will not pass to-day," said Nella. "But I will bring you some syrup
+of poppies. That will make you sleep."
+
+Marietta seemed to feel the pain herself. She smoothed the leathern
+cushion under his head as well as she could, and softly touched his
+forehead. It was hot and dry now.
+
+"He is feverish," she said to Nella anxiously.
+
+"I will bring him barley water with the syrup of poppies. What do you
+expect? Do you think that such a wound and such a burn are cooling to
+the blood, and refreshing to the brain? The man is badly hurt. Of course
+he is feverish. He ought to be in his bed, like a decent Christian."
+
+"Some one must help me with the work," said Zorzi faintly.
+
+"There is no one but me," answered Marietta after a moment's pause.
+
+"You?" cried Nella, greatly scandalised.
+
+Even Pasquale stared at Marietta in silent astonishment.
+
+"Yes," she said quietly. "There is no one else who knows enough about my
+father's work."
+
+"That is true," said Zorzi. "But you cannot come here and work with me."
+
+Marietta turned away and walked to the window. In her thin dress she
+stood there a few minutes, like a slender lily, all white and gold in
+the summer light.
+
+"It is out of the question!" protested Nella. "Her brother will never
+allow her to come. He will lock her up in her own room for safety, till
+the master comes home."
+
+"I think I shall always do just what I think right," said Marietta
+quietly, as if to herself.
+
+"Lord!" cried Nella. "The young lady is going mad!"
+
+Nella was gathering together the remains of the things she had brought.
+Exhausted by the pain he had suffered, and by the efforts he had made to
+hide it, Zorzi lay on his back, looking with half-closed eyes at the
+graceful outline of the girl's figure, and vaguely wishing that she
+would never move, and that he might be allowed to die while quietly
+gazing at her.
+
+"Lady," said Pasquale at last, and rather timidly, "I will take good
+care of him. I will get him crutches to-morrow. I will come in the
+daytime and keep the fire burning for him."
+
+"It would be far better to let it go out," observed Nella, with much
+sense.
+
+"But the experiments!" cried Zorzi, suddenly coming back from his dream.
+"I have promised the master to carry them out."
+
+"You see what comes of your glass-working," retorted Nella, pointing to
+his bandaged foot.
+
+"How did it happen?" asked Marietta suddenly. "How did you do it?"
+
+"It was done for him," said Pasquale, "and may the Last Judgment come a
+hundred times over for him who did it!"
+
+His intention was clearer than his words.
+
+"Do you mean that it was done on purpose, out of spite?" asked Marietta,
+looking from Pasquale to Zorzi.
+
+"It was an accident," said the latter. "I was in the main furnace room
+with your brother. The blow-pipe with the hot glass slipped from a man's
+hand. Your brother saw it--he will tell you."
+
+"I have been porter here for five-and-twenty years," retorted Pasquale,
+"and there have been several accidents in that time. But I never heard
+of one like that."
+
+"It was nothing else," said Zorzi.
+
+His voice was weak. Nella had finished collecting her belongings.
+Marietta saw that she could not stay any longer at present, and she went
+once more to Zorzi's side.
+
+"Let Pasquale take care of you to-day," she said. "I will come and see
+how you are to-morrow morning."
+
+"I thank you," he answered. "I thank you with all my heart. I have no
+words to tell you how much."
+
+"You need none," said she quietly. "I have done nothing. It is Nella who
+has helped you."
+
+"Nella knows that I am very grateful."
+
+"Of course, of course!" answered the woman kindly. "You have made him
+talk too much," she added, speaking to Marietta. "Let us go away. I must
+prepare the barley water. It takes a long time."
+
+"Is he to have nothing but barley water?" asked Pasquale.
+
+"I will send him what he is to have," answered Nella, with an air of
+superiority.
+
+Marietta looked back at Zorzi from the door, and his eyes were following
+her. She bent her head gravely and went out, followed by the others, and
+he was alone again. But it was very different now. The spasms of pain
+came back now and then, but there was rest between them, for there was a
+potent anodyne in the balsam with which Nella had soaked the first
+dressing. Of all possible hurts, the pain from burning is the most acute
+and lasting, and the wise little woman, who sometimes seemed so foolish,
+had done all that science could have done for Zorzi, even at a much
+later day. He could think connectedly now, he had been able to talk; had
+it been possible for him to stand, he might even have gone on for a time
+with the preparations for the next experiment. Yet he felt an
+instinctive certainty that he was to be lame for life.
+
+He was not thinking of the experiments just then; he could think of
+nothing but Marietta. Four or five days had passed since he had talked
+with her in the garden, and she was now formally promised to Jacopo
+Contarini. He wondered why she had come with Nella, and he remembered
+her earnest offer of friendship. She meant to show him that she was
+still in earnest, he supposed. It had been perfect happiness to feel her
+cool young hand on his forehead, to press it in his own. No one could
+take that from him, as long as he lived. He remembered it through the
+horrible pain it had soothed, and it was better than the touch of an
+angel, for it was the touch of a loving woman. But he did not know that,
+and be fancied that if she had ever guessed that he loved her, she
+would not have come to him now. She would feel that the mere thought in
+his heart was an offence. And besides, she was to marry Contarini, and
+she was not of the kind that would promise to marry one man and yet
+encourage love in another. It was well, thought Zorzi, that she had
+never suspected the truth.
+
+When Marietta reached her room again she listened patiently to Nella's
+scolding and warning, for she did not hear a word the good woman said to
+her. Nella brushed the dust from the silk mantle and from Marietta's
+white skirt very industriously, lest it should betray the secret to
+Giovanni or any other member of the household. For they had escaped
+being seen, even when they came back.
+
+Nella scolded on in a little sing-song voice, with many rising
+inflections. In her whole life, she said, she had never connived at
+anything more utterly shameless than this! She was humble, indeed, and
+of no account in the world, but if she had run out in the middle of the
+day to visit a young man when she was betrothed to her poor Vito,
+blessed soul, and the Lord remember him, her poor Vito would have gone
+to her father, might the Lord refresh his soul, and would have said,
+"What ways are these? Do you think I will marry a girl who runs about in
+this fashion?" That was what Vito would have said. And he would have
+said, "Give me back the gold things I gave your daughter, and let me go
+and find a wife who does not run about the city." And it would have
+been well said. Did Marietta suppose that an educated person like the
+lord Jacopo Contarini would be less particular about his bride's manners
+than that good soul Vito? Not that Vito had been ignorant. Nella should
+have liked any one to dare to say that she had married an ignorant man!
+And so forth. And so on.
+
+Marietta heard the voice without listening to the words, and the gentle,
+half-complaining, half-reproving tone was rather soothing than
+otherwise. She sat by the half-closed window with her bead work, while
+Nella talked, and brushed, and moved about the room, making imaginary
+small tasks in order to talk the more. But Marietta threaded the red and
+blue beads and fastened them in patterns upon the piece of stuff she was
+ornamenting, and when Nella looked at her every now and then, she seemed
+quite calm and indifferent. There had always been something inscrutable
+about her.
+
+She was wondering why she had submitted to be betrothed to Contarini,
+when she loved Zorzi; and the answer did not come. She could not
+understand why it was that although she loved Zorzi with all her heart
+she had been convinced that she hated him, during four long, miserable
+days. Then, too, it was very strange that she should feel happy, that
+she should know that she was really happy, her heart brimming over with
+sunshine and joy, while Zorzi, whom she loved, was lying on that
+uncomfortable bench in dreadful pain. It was true that when she thought
+of his wound, the pain ran through her own limbs and made her move in
+her seat. But the next moment she was perfectly happy again, and yet was
+displeased with herself for it, as if it were not quite right.
+
+Nella stood still at last, close to her, and spoke to her so directly
+that she could not help hearing.
+
+"My little lady," said the woman, "do not forget that the women are
+coming early to-morrow morning to show you the stuffs which your father
+has chosen for your wedding gown."
+
+"Yes. I remember."
+
+Marietta laid down her work in the little basket of beads and looked
+away towards the window. Between the shutters she could just see one of
+the scarlet flowers of the sweet geranium, waving in the sunlight. It
+was true. The women were coming in the morning to begin the work. They
+would measure her, and cut out patterns in buckram and fit them on her,
+making her stand a long time. They would spread out silks and satins on
+the bed and on the table, they would hold them up and make long
+draperies with them, and make the light flash in the deep folds, and
+they would tell her how beautiful she would be as a bride, and that her
+skin was whiter than lilies and milk and snow, and her hair finer than
+silk and richer than ropes of spun red gold. While they were saying
+those things she would look very grave and indifferent, and nothing they
+could show her would make her open her eyes wide; but her heart would
+laugh long and sweetly, for she should be infinitely happy, though no
+one would know it. She would give no opinion about the gown, no matter
+how they pressed her with questions.
+
+After that the pieces that were to be embroidered would be very
+carefully weighed, the silk and the satin, and the weights of the pieces
+would be written down. Also, each of the hired women who were to make
+the embroidery would receive a certain amount of silver and gold thread,
+of which the weight would be written down under that of the stuff, and
+the two figures added together would mean just what the finished piece
+of embroidery ought to weigh. For if this were not done, the women would
+of course steal the gold and silver thread, a little every day, and take
+it away in their mouths, because the housekeeper would always search
+them every evening, in spite of the weighing. But they were well paid
+for the work and did not object to being suspected, for it was part of
+their business.
+
+In time, Marietta would go to see the work they were doing, in the great
+cool loft where they would sit all day, where the linen presses stood
+side by side, and the great chests which held the hangings and curtains
+and carpets that were used on great occasions. The housekeeper had her
+little room up there, and could watch the sewing-women at their work and
+scold them if they were idle, noting how much should be taken from their
+pay. The women would sing long songs, answering each other for an hour
+at a time, but no one would hear them below, because the house was so
+big.
+
+By and by the work would be almost finished, and then it would be quite
+done, and the wedding day would be very near. There Marietta's vision
+of the future suddenly came to a climax, as she tried to imagine what
+would happen when she should boldly declare that neither her father, nor
+the Council of Ten, nor the Doge himself, nor even His Holiness Pope
+Paul, who was a Venetian too, could ever make her marry Jacopo
+Contarini. There would be such a convulsion of the family as had never
+taken place since she was born. In her imagination she fancied all
+Murano taking sides for her or against her; even Venice itself would be
+amazed at the temerity of a girl who dared to refuse the husband her
+father had chosen for her. It would be an outrage on all authority, a
+scandal never to be forgotten, an unheard-of rebellion against the
+natural law by which unmarried children were held in bondage as slaves
+to their parents. But Marietta was not frightened by the tremendous
+consequences her fancy deduced from her refusal to marry. She was happy.
+Some day, the man she loved would know that she had faced the world for
+him, rather than be bound to any one else, and he would love her all the
+more dearly for having risked so much. She had never been so happy
+before. Only, now and then, when she thought of Zorzi's hurt, she felt a
+sharp thrill of pain run through her.
+
+All day the tide of joy was high in her heart. Towards evening, she sent
+Nella over to the glass-house to see how Zorzi was doing, and as soon as
+the woman was gone she stood at the open window, behind her flowers, to
+watch her go in, Pasquale would look out, the door would be open for a
+moment, she would be a little nearer.
+
+Even in that small anticipation she was not disappointed. It was a new
+joy to be able to look from her window into the dark entry that led to
+the place where Zorzi was. To-morrow, or the next day, he would perhaps
+come to the door, helped by Pasquale, but to-morrow morning she would go
+and see him, come what might. She was not afraid of her brother
+Giovanni, and it might be long before her father came back. Till then,
+at all events, she would do what she thought right, no matter how Nella
+might be scandalised.
+
+Nella came back, and said that Zorzi was better, that he had slept all
+the afternoon and now had very little pain, and he was not in any
+anxiety about the furnace, for Pasquale had kept the fire burning
+properly all day. Zorzi had begged Nella to deliver a message of thanks.
+
+"Try and remember just what he told you," said Marietta.
+
+"There was nothing especial," answered Nella with exasperating
+indifference. "He said that I was to thank you very much. Something like
+that--nothing else."
+
+"I am sure that those were not his words. Why did you forget them?"
+
+"If it had been an account of money spent, I should remember it
+exactly," answered Nella. "A pennyworth of thread, beeswax a farthing,
+so much for needles; I should forget nothing. But when a man says 'I
+thank you,' what is there to remember? But you are never satisfied!
+Nella may work her hands to the bone for you, Nella may run errands for
+you till she is lame, you are never pleased with what Nella does! It is
+always the same."
+
+She tossed her brown head to show that she was offended. But Marietta
+laughed softly and patted the little woman's cheek affectionately.
+
+"You are a dear little old angel," she said.
+
+Nella was pacified.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+The porter kept his word, and took good care of Zorzi. When the night
+boys had come, he carried him into the inner room and put him to bed
+like a child. Zorzi asked him to tell the boys to wake him at the
+watches, as they had done on the previous night, and Pasquale humoured
+him, but when he went away he wisely forgot to give the message, and the
+lads, who knew that he had been hurt, supposed that he was not to be
+disturbed. It was broad daylight when he awoke and saw Pasquale standing
+beside him.
+
+"Are the boys gone already?" he asked, almost as he opened his eyes.
+
+"No, they are all asleep in a corner," answered the porter.
+
+"Asleep!" cried Zorzi, in sudden anxiety. "Wake them, Pasquale, and see
+whether the sand-glass has been turned and is running, and whether the
+fire is burning. The young good-for-nothings!"
+
+"I will wake them," answered Pasquale. "I supposed that they were
+allowed to sleep after daylight."
+
+A moment later Zorzi heard him apostrophising the three lads with his
+usual vigour of language. Judging from the sounds that accompanied the
+words he was encouraging their movements by other means also. Presently
+one of the three set up a howl.
+
+"Oh, you sons of snails and codfish, I will teach you!" growled
+Pasquale; and he proceeded to teach them, till they were all three
+howling at once.
+
+Zorzi knew that they deserved a beating, but he was naturally
+tender-hearted.
+
+"Pasquale!" he called out. "Let them alone! Let them make up the fire!"
+
+Pasquale came back, and the yells subsided.
+
+"I have knocked their empty heads together," he observed. "They will not
+sleep for a week. Yes, the sand-glass has run out, but the fire is not
+very low. I will bring you water, and when you are dressed I will carry
+you out into the laboratory."
+
+The boys did not dare to go away till they had made up the fire. Then
+they took themselves off, and as Pasquale let them out he treated them
+to a final expression of his opinion. The tallest of the three was
+bleeding from his nose, which had been brought into violent conjunction
+with the skull of one of his companions. When the door was shut, and
+they had gone a few steps along the footway, he stopped the others.
+
+"We are glass-blowers' sons," he said, "and we have been beaten by that
+swine of a porter. Let us be revenged on him. Even Zorzi would not have
+dared to touch us, because he is a foreigner."
+
+"We can do nothing," answered the smallest boy disconsolately. "If I
+tell my father that we went to sleep, he will say that the porter
+served us right, and I shall get another beating."
+
+"You are cowards," said the first speaker. "But I am wounded," he
+continued proudly, pointing to his nose. "I will go to the master and
+ask redress. I will sit down before the door and wait for him."
+
+"Do what you please," returned the others. "We will go home."
+
+"You have no spirit of honour in you," said the tall boy contemptuously.
+
+He turned his back on them in disdain, crossed the bridge and sat down
+under the covered way in front of Beroviero's house. He smeared the
+blood over his face till he really looked as if he might be badly hurt,
+and he kept up a low, tremulous moaning. His nose really hurt him, and
+as he was extremely sorry for himself some real tears came into his eyes
+now and then. He waited a long time. The front door was opened and two
+men came out with brooms and began to sweep. When they saw him they were
+for making him go away, but he cried out that he was waiting for the
+Signor Giovanni, to show him how a free glass-blower's son had been
+treated by a dog of a foreigner and a swine of a porter over there in
+the glass-house. Then the servants let him stay, for they feared the
+porter and hated Zorzi for being a Dalmatian.
+
+At last Giovanni came out, and the boy at once uttered a particularly
+effective moan. Giovanni stopped and looked at him, and he gulped and
+sobbed vigorously.
+
+"Get up and go away at once!" said Giovanni, much disgusted by the sight
+of the blood.
+
+"I will not go till you hear me, sir," answered the boy dramatically. "I
+am a free glass-blower's son and I have been beaten like this by the
+porter of the glass-house! This is the way we are treated, though we
+work to learn the art as our fathers worked before us."
+
+"You probably went to sleep, you little wretch," observed Giovanni. "Get
+out of my way, and go home!"
+
+"Justice, sir! Justice!" moaned the boy, dropping himself on his knees.
+
+"Nonsense! Go away!" Giovanni pushed him aside, and began to walk on.
+
+The boy sprang up and followed him, and running beside him as Giovanni
+tried to get away, touched the skirt of his coat respectfully, and then
+kissed the back of his own hand.
+
+"If you will listen to me, sir," he said in a low voice, "I will tell
+you something you wish to know."
+
+Giovanni stopped short and looked at him with curiosity.
+
+"I will tell you of something the master did on the Sunday night before
+he went on his journey," continued the lad. "I am one of the night boys
+in the laboratory, and I saw with my eyes while the others were asleep,
+for we had been told to wait till we were called."
+
+Giovanni looked about, to see whether any one was within hearing. They
+were still in the covered footway above which the first story of the
+house was built, but were near the end, and the shutters of the lower
+windows were closed.
+
+"Tell me what you saw," said Giovanni, "but do not speak loud."
+
+At this moment the other two boys came running up with noisy
+lamentations. With the wisdom of their kind they had patiently watched
+to see whether their companion would get a hearing of the master, and
+judging that he had been successful at last, they came to enjoy the
+fruit of his efforts.
+
+"We also have been beaten!" they wailed, but they bore no outward and
+visible signs of ill-treatment on them.
+
+The elder boy turned upon them with righteous fury, and to their
+unspeakable surprise began to drive them away with kicks and blows. They
+could not stand against him, and after a brief resistance, they turned
+and ran at full speed. The victor came back to Giovanni's side.
+
+"They are cowardly fellows," he said, with disdain. "They are ignorant
+boys. What do you expect? But they will not come back."
+
+"Go on with your story," said Giovanni impatiently, "but speak low."
+
+"It was on Sunday night, sir. The master came to talk with Zorzi in the
+laboratory. I was in the garden, at the entrance of the other passage.
+When the door opened there was not much light, and the master was
+wrapped in his cloak, and he turned a little, and went in sideways, so
+I knew that he had something under his arm, for the door is narrow."
+
+"He was probably bringing over some valuable materials," said Giovanni.
+
+"I believe he was bringing the great book," said the boy confidently,
+but almost in a whisper.
+
+"What great book?"
+
+The lad looked at Giovanni with an expression of cunning on his face, as
+much as to say that he was not to be deceived by such a transparent
+pretence of ignorance.
+
+"He was afraid to leave it in his house," he said, "lest you should find
+it and learn how to make the gold as he does. So he took it over to the
+laboratory at night."
+
+Giovanni began to understand, though it was the first time he had heard
+that the boys, like the common people, suspected Angelo Beroviero of
+being an alchemist. It was clear that the boy meant the book that
+contained the priceless secrets for glass-making which Giovanni and his
+brother had so long coveted. His interest increased.
+
+"After all," he said, "you saw nothing distinctly. My father went in and
+shut the door, I suppose."
+
+"Yes," answered the boy. "But after a long time the door opened again."
+
+He stopped, resolved to be questioned, in order that his information
+should seem more valuable. The instinct of small boys is often as
+diabolically keen as that of a grown woman.
+
+"Go on!" said Giovanni, more and more interested. "The door opened
+again, you say? Then my father came out--"
+
+"No, sir. Zorzi came out into the light that fell from the door. The
+master was inside."
+
+"Well, what did Zorzi do? Be quick!"
+
+"He brought out a shovel full of earth, sir, and he carefully scattered
+it about over the flower-bed, and then he went back, and presently he
+came out with the shovel again, and more earth; and so three times. They
+had buried the great book somewhere in the laboratory."
+
+"But the laboratory is paved," objected Giovanni, to gain time, for he
+was thinking.
+
+"There is earth under the stones, sir. I remember seeing it last year
+when the masons put down several new slabs. The great book is somewhere
+under the floor of the laboratory. I must have stepped over it in
+feeding the fire last night, and that is why the devils that guard it
+inspired the porter to beat me this morning. It was the devils that sent
+us to sleep, for fear that we should find it."
+
+"I daresay," said Giovanni with much gravity, for he thought it better
+that the boy should be kept in awe of an object that possessed such
+immense value. "You should be careful in future, or ill may befall you."
+
+"Is it true, sir, that I have told you something you wished to know?"
+
+"I am glad to know that the great book is safe," answered Giovanni
+ambiguously.
+
+"Zorzi knows where it is," suggested, the boy in a tone meant to convey
+the suspicion that Zorzi might use his knowledge.
+
+"Yes--yes," repeated Giovanni thoughtfully, "and he is ill. He ought to
+be brought over to the house until he is better."
+
+"Then the furnace could be allowed to get out, sir, could it not?"
+
+"Yes. The weather is growing warm, as it is. Yes--the furnace may be put
+out now." Giovanni hardly knew that he was speaking aloud. "Zorzi will
+get well much sooner if he is in a good room in the house. I will see to
+it."
+
+The boy stood still beside him, waiting patiently for some reward.
+
+"Are we to come as usual to-night, sir, or will there be no fire?" he
+asked.
+
+"Go and ask at the usual time. I have not decided yet. There--you are a
+good boy. If you hold your tongue there will be more."
+
+Giovanni offered the lad a piece of money, but he would not take it.
+
+"We are glass-blowers' sons, sir, we are not poor people," he said with
+theatrical pride, for he would have taken the coin without remark if he
+had not felt that he possessed a secret of great value, which might
+place Giovanni in his power before long.
+
+Giovanni was surprised.
+
+"What do you want, then?" he asked.
+
+"I am old enough to be an apprentice, sir."
+
+"Very well," answered Giovanni. "You shall be an apprentice. But hold
+your tongue about what you saw. You told me everything, did you?"
+
+"Yes, sir. And I thank you for your kindness, sir. If I can help you,
+sir--" he stopped.
+
+"Help me!" exclaimed Giovanni. "I do not work at the furnaces! Wash your
+face and come by and by to my glass-house, and you shall have an
+apprentice's place."
+
+"I shall serve you well, sir. You shall see that I am grateful,"
+answered the boy.
+
+He touched Giovanni's sleeve and kissed his own hand, and ran back to
+the steps before the front door. There he knelt down, leaning over the
+water, and washed his face in the canal, well pleased with the price he
+had got for his bruising.
+
+Giovanni did not look at him, but turned to go on, past the corner of
+the house, in deep thought. From the narrow line into which the back
+door opened, Marietta and Nella emerged at the same moment. Nella had
+made sure that Giovanni had gone out, but she could not foresee that he
+would stop a long time to talk with the boy in the covered footway. She
+ran against him, as he passed the corner, for she was walking on
+Marietta's left side. The young girl's face was covered, but she knew
+that Giovanni must recognise her instantly, by her cloak, and because
+Nella was with her.
+
+"Where are you going?" he asked sharply.
+
+"To church, sir, to church," answered Nella in great perturbation. "The
+young lady is going to confession."
+
+"Ah, very good, very good!" exclaimed Giovanni, who was very attentive
+to religious forms. "By all means go to confession, my sister. You
+cannot be too conscientious in the performance of your duties."
+
+But Marietta laughed a little under her veil.
+
+"I had not the least intention of going to confession this morning," she
+said. "Nella said so because you frightened her."
+
+"What? What is this?" Giovanni looked from one to the other. "Then where
+are you going?"
+
+"To the glass-house," answered Marietta with perfect coolness.
+
+"You are not going to the laboratory? Zorzi is living there alone. You
+cannot go there."
+
+"I am not afraid of Zorzi. In the first place, I wish to know how he is.
+Secondly, this is the hour for making the tests, and as he cannot stand
+he cannot try the glass alone."
+
+Giovanni was amazed at her assurance, and immediately assumed a grave
+and authoritative manner befitting the eldest brother who represented
+the head of the house.
+
+"I cannot allow you to go," he said. "It is most unbecoming. Our father
+would be shocked. Go back at once, and never think of going to the
+laboratory while Zorzi is there. Do you hear?"
+
+"Yes. Come, Nella," she added, taking her serving-woman by the arm.
+
+Before Giovanni realised what she was going to do, she was walking
+quickly across the wooden bridge towards the glass-house, holding
+Nella's sleeve, to keep her from lagging, and Nella trotted beside her
+mistress like a frightened lamb, led by a string. Giovanni did not
+attempt to follow at first, for he was utterly nonplussed by his
+sister's behaviour. He rarely knew what to do when any one openly defied
+him. He stood still, staring after the two, and saw Marietta tap upon
+the door of the glass-house. It opened almost immediately and they
+disappeared within.
+
+As soon as they were out of sight, his anger broke out, and he made a
+few quick steps on the bridge. Then he stopped, for he was afraid to
+make a scandal. That at least was what he said to himself, but the fact
+was that he was afraid to face his sister, who was infinitely braver and
+cooler than he. Besides, he reflected that he could not now prevent her
+from going to the laboratory, since she was already there, and that it
+would be very undignified to make a scene before Zorzi, who was only a
+servant after all. This last consideration consoled him greatly. In the
+eyes of the law, and therefore in Giovanni's, Zorzi was a hired servant.
+Now, socially speaking, a servant was not a man; and since Zorzi was not
+a man, and Marietta was therefore gone with one servant to a place,
+belonging to her father, where there was another servant, to go thither
+and forcibly bring her back would either be absurd, or else it would
+mean that Zorzi had acquired a new social rank, which was absurd also.
+There is no such consolation to a born coward as a logical reason for
+not doing what he is afraid to do.
+
+But Giovanni promised himself that he would make his sister pay dearly
+for having defied him, and as he had also made up his mind to have Zorzi
+removed to the house, on pretence of curing his hurt, but in reality in
+order to search for the precious manuscripts, it would be impossible for
+Marietta to commit the same piece of folly a second time. But she should
+pay for the affront she had put upon him.
+
+He accordingly came back to the footway and walked along toward his own
+glass-house; and the boy, who had finished washing his face, smoothed
+his hair with his wet fingers and followed him, having seen and
+understood all that had happened.
+
+Marietta sent Pasquale on, to tell Zorzi that she was coming, and when
+she reached the laboratory he was sitting in the master's big chair,
+with his foot on a stool before him. His face was pale and drawn from
+the suffering of the past twenty-four hours, and from time to time he
+was still in great pain. As Marietta entered, he looked up with a
+grateful smile.
+
+"You seem glad to see us after all," she said. "Yet you protested that I
+should not come to-day!"
+
+"I cannot help it," he answered.
+
+"Ah, but if you had been with us just now!" Nella began, still
+frightened.
+
+But Marietta would not let her go on.
+
+"Hold your tongue, Nella," she said, with a little laugh. "You should
+know better than to trouble a sick man's fancy with such stories."
+
+Nella understood that Zorzi was not to know, and she began examining
+the foot, to make sure that the bandages had not been displaced during
+the night.
+
+"To-morrow I will change them," she said. "It is not like a scald. The
+glass has burned you like red-hot iron, and the wound will heal
+quickly."
+
+"If you will tell me which crucible to try," said Marietta, "I will make
+the tests for you. Then we can move the table to your side and you can
+prepare the new ingredients according to the writing."
+
+Pasquale had left them, seeing that he was not wanted.
+
+"I fear it is of little use," answered Zorzi, despondently. "Of course,
+the master is very wise, but it seems to me that he has added so much,
+from time to time, to the original mixture, and so much has been taken
+away, as to make it all very uncertain."
+
+"I daresay," assented Marietta. "For some time I have thought so. But we
+must carry out his wishes to the letter, else he will always believe
+that the experiments might have succeeded if he had stayed here."
+
+"Of course," said Zorzi. "We should make tests of all three crucibles
+to-day, if it is only to make more room for the things that are to be
+put in."
+
+"Where is the copper ladle?" asked Marietta. "I do not see it in its
+place."
+
+"I have none--I had forgotten. Your brother came here yesterday morning,
+and wanted to try the glass himself in spite of me. I knocked the ladle
+out of his hand and it fell through into the crucible."
+
+"That was like you," said Marietta. "I am glad you did it."
+
+"Heaven knows what has happened to the thing," Zorzi answered. "It has
+been there since yesterday morning. For all I know, it may have melted
+by this time. It may affect the glass, too."
+
+"Where can I get another?" asked Marietta, anxious to begin.
+
+Zorzi made an instinctive motion to rise. It hurt him badly and he bit
+his lip.
+
+"I forgot," he said. "Pasquale can get another ladle from the main
+glass-house."
+
+"Go and call Pasquale, Nella," said Marietta at once. "Ask him to get a
+copper ladle."
+
+Nella went out into the garden, leaving the two together. Marietta was
+standing between the chair and the furnace, two or three steps from
+Zorzi. It was very hot in the big room, for the window was still shut.
+
+"Tell me how you really feel," Marietta said, almost at once.
+
+Every woman who loves a man and is anxious about him is sure that if she
+can be alone with him for a moment, he will tell her the truth about his
+condition. The experience of thousands of years has not taught women
+that if there is one person in the world from whom a man will try to
+conceal his ills and aches, it is the woman he loves, because he would
+rather suffer everything than give her pain.
+
+"I feel perfectly well," said Zorzi.
+
+"Indeed you are not!" answered Marietta, energetically. "If you were
+perfectly well you would be on your feet, doing your work yourself. Why
+will you not tell me?"
+
+"I mean, I have no pain," said Zorzi.
+
+"You had great pain just now, when you tried to move," retorted
+Marietta. "You know it. Why do you try to deceive me? Do you think I
+cannot see it in your face?"
+
+"It is nothing. It comes now and then, and goes away again almost at
+once."
+
+Marietta had come close to him while she was speaking. One hand hung by
+her side within his reach. He longed to take it, with such a longing as
+he had never felt for anything in his life; he resisted with all the
+strength he had left. But he remembered that he had held her hand in his
+yesterday, and the memory was a force in itself, outside of him, drawing
+him in spite of himself, lifting his arm when he commanded it to lie
+still. His eyes could not take themselves from the beautiful white
+fingers, so delicately curved as they hung down, so softly shaded to
+pale rose colour at their tapering tips. She stood quite still, looking
+down at his bent head.
+
+"You would not refuse my friendship, now," she said, in a low voice, so
+low that when she had spoken she doubted whether he could have
+understood.
+
+He took her hand then, for he had no resistance left, and she let him
+take it, and did not blush. He held it in both his own and silently drew
+it to him, till he was pressing it to his heart as he had never hoped to
+do.
+
+"You are too good to me," he said, scarcely knowing that he pronounced
+the words.
+
+Nella passed the window, coming back from her errand. Instantly Marietta
+drew her hand away, and when the serving-woman entered she was speaking
+to Zorzi in the most natural tone in the world.
+
+"Is the testing plate quite clean?" she asked, and she was already
+beside it.
+
+Zorzi looked at her with amazement. She had almost been seen with her
+hand in his, a catastrophe which he supposed would have entailed the
+most serious consequences; yet there she was, perfectly unconcerned and
+not even faintly blushing, and she had at once pretended that they had
+been talking about the glass.
+
+"Yes--I believe it is clean," he answered, almost hesitating. "I cleaned
+it yesterday morning."
+
+Nella had brought the copper ladle. There were always several in the
+glass-works for making tests. Marietta took it and went to the furnace,
+while Nella watched her, in great fear lest she should burn herself. But
+the young girl was in no danger, for she had spent half her life in the
+laboratory and the garden, watching her father. She wrapped the wet
+cloth round her hand and held the ladle by the end.
+
+"We will begin with the one on the right," she said, thrusting the
+instrument through the aperture.
+
+Bringing it out with some glass in it, she supported it with both hands
+as she went quickly to the iron table, and she instantly poured out the
+stuff and began to watch it.
+
+"It is just what you had the other day," she said, as the glass rapidly
+cooled.
+
+Zorzi was seated high enough to look over the table.
+
+"Another failure," he said. "It is always the same. We have scarcely had
+any variation in the tint in the last week."
+
+"That is not your fault," answered Marietta. "We will try the next."
+
+As if she had been at the work all her life, she chilled the ladle and
+chipped off the small adhering bits of glass from it, and slipped the
+last test from the table, carrying it to the refuse jar with tongs. Once
+more she wrapped the damp cloth round her hand and went to the furnace.
+The middle crucible was to be tried next. Nella, looking on with nervous
+anxiety, was in a profuse perspiration.
+
+"I believe that is the one into which the ladle fell," said Zorzi. "Yes,
+I am quite sure of it."
+
+Marietta took the specimen and poured it out, set down the ladle on the
+brick work, and watched the cooling glass, expecting to see what she had
+often seen before. But her face changed, in a look of wonder and
+delight.
+
+"Zorzi!" she exclaimed. "Look! Look! See what a colour!"
+
+"I cannot see well," he answered, straining his neck. "Wait a minute!"
+he cried, as Marietta took the tongs. "I see now! We have got it! I
+believe we have got it! Oh, if I could only walk!"
+
+"Patience--you shall see it. It is almost cool. It is quite stiff now."
+
+She took the little flat cake up with the tongs, very carefully, and
+held it before his eyes. The light fell through it from the window, and
+her head was close to his, as they both looked at it together.
+
+"I never dreamed of such a colour," said Zorzi, his face flushing with
+excitement.
+
+"There never was such a colour before," answered Marietta. "It is like
+the juice of a ripe pomegranate that has just been cut, only there is
+more light in it."
+
+"It is like a great ruby--the rubies that the jewellers call 'pigeon's
+blood.'"
+
+"My father always said it should be blood-red," said Marietta. "But I
+thought he meant something different, something more scarlet."
+
+"I thought so, too. What they call pigeon's blood is not the colour of
+blood at all. It is more like pomegranates, as you said at first. But
+this is a marvellous thing. The master will be pleased."
+
+Nella came and looked too, convinced that the glass had in some way
+turned out more beautiful by the magic of her mistress's touch.
+
+"It is a miracle!" cried the woman of the people. "Some saint must have
+made this."
+
+The glass glowed like a gem and seemed to give out light of its own. As
+Zorzi and Marietta looked, its rich glow spread over their faces. It was
+that rare glass which, from old cathedral windows, casts such a deep
+stain upon the pavement that one would believe the marble itself must be
+dyed with unchanging color.
+
+"We have found it together," said Marietta.
+
+Zorzi looked from the glass to her face, close by his, and their eyes
+met for a moment in the strange glow and it was as if they knew each
+other in another world.
+
+"Do not let the red light fall on your faces," said Nella, crossing
+herself. "It is too much like blood--good health to you," she added
+quickly for fear of evil.
+
+Marietta lowered her hand and turned the piece of glass sideways, to see
+how it would look.
+
+"What shall we do with it?" she asked. "It must not be left any longer
+in the crucible."
+
+"No. It ought to be taken out at once. Such a colour must be kept for
+church windows. If I were able to stand, I would make most of it into
+cylinders and cut them while hot. There are men who can do it, in the
+glass-house. But the master does not want them here."
+
+"We had better let the fires go out," said Marietta. "It will cool in
+the crucible as it is."
+
+"I would give anything to have that crucible empty, or an empty one in
+the place," answered Zorzi. "This is a great discovery, but it is not
+exactly what the master expected. I have an idea of my own, which I
+should like to try."
+
+"Then we must empty the crucible. There is no other way. The glass will
+keep its colour, whatever shape we give it. Is there much of it?"
+
+"There may be twenty or thirty pounds' weight," answered Zorzi. "No one
+can tell."
+
+Nell listened in mute surprise. She had never seen Marietta with old
+Beroviero, and she was amazed to hear her young mistress talking about
+the processes of glass-making, about crucibles and cylinders and
+ingredients as familiarly as of domestic things. She suddenly began to
+imagine that old Beroviero, who was probably a magician and an
+alchemist, had taught his daughter the same dangerous knowledge, and she
+felt a sort of awe before the two young people who knew such a vast deal
+which she herself could never know.
+
+She asked herself what was to become of this wonderful girl, half woman
+and half enchantress, who brought the colour of the saints' blood out of
+the white flames, and understood as much as men did of the art which was
+almost all made up of secrets. What would happen when she was the wife
+of Jacopo Contarini, shut up in a splendid Venetian palace where there
+were no glass furnaces to amuse her? At first she would grow pale,
+thought Nella, but by and by would weave spells in her chamber which
+would bring all Venice to her will, and turn it all to gold and precious
+stones and red glass, and the people to fairies subject to her will, her
+husband, the Council of Ten, even the Doge himself.
+
+Nella roused herself, and passed her hand over her eyes, as if she were
+waking from a dream. And indeed she had been dreaming, for she had
+looked too long into the wonderful depths of the new colour, and it had
+dazed her wits.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+On that day Marietta felt once more the full belief that Zorzi loved
+her; but the certainty did not fill her with happiness as on that first
+afternoon when she had seen him stoop to pick up the rose she had
+dropped. The time that had seemed so very distant had come indeed;
+instead of years, a week had scarcely passed, and it was not by letting
+a flower fall in his path that she had told him her love, as she had
+meant to do. She had done much more. She had let him take her hand and
+press it to his heart, and she would have left it there if Nella had not
+passed the window; she had wished him to take it, she had let it hang by
+her side in the hope that he would be bold enough to do so, and she had
+thrilled with delight at his touch; she had drawn back her hand when the
+woman came, and she had put on a look of innocent indifference that
+would have deceived one of the Council's own spies. Could any language
+have been more plain?
+
+It was very strange, she thought, that she should all at once have gone
+so far, that she should have felt such undreamt joy at the moment and
+then, when it was hers, a part of her life which nothing could ever undo
+nor take from her, it was stranger still that the remembrance of this
+wonderful joy should make her suddenly sad and thoughtful, that she
+should lie awake at night, wishing that it had never been, and
+tormenting herself with the idea that she had done an almost
+irretrievable wrong. At the very moment when the coming day was breaking
+upon her heart's twilight, a wall of darkness arose between her and the
+future.
+
+Much that is very good and true in the world is built upon the fanciful
+fears of evil that warn girls' hearts of harm. There are dangers that
+cannot be exaggerated, because the value of what they threaten cannot be
+reckoned too great, so long as human goodness rests on the dangerous
+quicksands of human nature.
+
+Marietta had not realised what it meant to be betrothed to Jacopo
+Contarini, until she had let her hand linger in Zorzi's. But after that,
+one hour had not passed before she felt that she was living between two
+alternatives that seemed almost equally terrible, and of which she must
+choose the one or the other within two months. She must either marry
+Contarini and never see Zorzi again, or she must refuse to be married
+and face the tremendous consequences of her unheard-of wilfulness, her
+father's anger, the just resentment of all the Contarini family, the
+humiliation which her brothers would heap upon her, because, in the code
+of those days, she would have brought shame on them and theirs. In those
+times such results were very real and inevitable when a girl's formal
+promise of marriage was broken, though she herself might never have been
+consulted.
+
+It was no wonder that Marietta was sleepless at night, and spent long
+hours of the day sitting listless by her window without so much as
+threading a score of beads from the little basket that stood beside her.
+Nella came and went often, looked at her, and shook her head with a wise
+smile.
+
+"It is the thought of marriage," said the woman of the people to
+herself. "She pines and grows pale now, because she is thinking that she
+must leave her father's house so soon, and she is afraid to go among
+strangers. But she will be happy by and by, like the swallows in
+spring."
+
+Nella remembered how frightened she herself had been when she was
+betrothed to her departed Vito, and she was thereby much comforted as to
+Marietta's condition. But she said nothing, after Marietta had coldly
+repelled her first attempt to talk of the marriage, though she forgave
+her mistress's frigid order to be silent, telling herself that no
+right-minded young girl could possibly be natural and sweet tempered
+under the circumstances. She was more than compensated for what might
+have seemed harshness, by something that looked very much like a
+concession. Marietta had not gone back to the laboratory since the
+discovery of the new glass, and a week had passed since then.
+
+Nella went every other day and did all that was necessary for Zorzi's
+recovery. Each time she came he asked her about Marietta, in a rather
+formal tone, as was becoming when he spoke of his master's daughter,
+but hoping that Nella might have some message to deliver, and he was
+more and more disappointed as he realised that Marietta did not mean to
+send him any. She had gone away on that morning with a sort of
+intimation that she would come back every day, but Nella did not so much
+as hint that she ever meant to come back at all.
+
+Zorzi went about on crutches, swinging his helpless foot as he walked,
+for it still hurt him when he put it to the ground. He was pale and
+thin, both from pain and from living shut up almost all day in the close
+atmosphere of the laboratory. For a change, he began to come out into
+the little garden, sometimes walking up and down on his crutches for a
+few minutes, and then sitting down to rest on the bench under the
+plane-tree, where Marietta had so often sat. Pasquale came and talked
+with him sometimes, but Zorzi never went to the porter's lodge.
+
+He felt that if he got as far as that he should inevitably open the door
+and look up at Marietta's window, and he would not do it, for he was
+hurt by her apparent indifference, after having allowed him to hold her
+hand in his. She had not even asked through Nella what had become of the
+beautiful glass. What he pretended to say to himself was that it would
+be very wrong to go and stand outside the glass-house, where the porter
+would certainly see him, and where he might be seen by any one else,
+staring at the window of his master's daughter's room on the other side
+of the canal. But what he really felt was that Marietta had treated him
+capriciously and that if he had a particle of self-respect he must show
+her that he did not care. For if Marietta was very like other carefully
+brought up girls of her age, Zorzi was nothing more than a boy where
+love was concerned, and like many boys who have struggled for existence
+in a more or less corrupt world, he had heard much more of the
+faithlessness and caprices of women in general than of the sensitiveness
+and delicate timidity of innocent young girls.
+
+Marietta was his perfect ideal, the most exquisite, the most beautiful
+and the most lovable creature ever endowed with form and sent into the
+world by the powers of good. He believed all this in his heart, with the
+certainty of absolute knowledge. But he was quite incapable of
+discerning the motives of her conduct towards him, and when he tried to
+understand them, it was not his heart that felt, but his reason that
+argued, having very little knowledge and no experience at all to help
+it; and since his erring reason demonstrated something that offended his
+self-esteem, his heart was hurt and nursed a foolish, small resentment
+against what he truly loved better than life itself. At one time or
+another most very young men in love have found themselves in that
+condition, and have tormented themselves to the verge of fever and
+distraction over imaginary hurts and wrongs. Was there ever a true lyric
+poet who did not at least once in his early days believe himself the
+victim of a heartless woman? And though long afterwards fate may have
+brought him face to face with the tragedy of unhappy love, fierce with
+passion and terrible with violent death, can he ever quite forget the
+fancied sufferings of first youth, the stab of a thoughtless girl's
+first unkind word, the sickening chill he felt under her first cold
+look? And what would first love be, if young men and maidens came to it
+with all the reason and cool self-judgment that long living brings?
+
+Zorzi sought consolation in his art, and as soon as he could stand and
+move about with his crutches he threw his whole pent-up energy into his
+work. The accidental discovery of the red glass had unexpectedly given
+him an empty crucible with which to make an experiment of his own, and
+while the materials were fusing he attempted to obtain the new colour in
+the other two, by dropping pieces of copper into each regardless of the
+master's instructions. To his inexpressible disappointment he completely
+failed in this, and the glass he produced was of the commonest tint.
+
+Then he grew reckless; he removed the two crucibles that had contained
+what had been made according to Beroviero's theories until he had added
+the copper, and he began afresh according to his own belief.
+
+On that very morning Giovanni Beroviero made a second visit to the
+laboratory. He came, he said, to make sure that Zorzi was recovering
+from his hurt, and Zorzi knew from Nella that Giovanni had made
+inquiries about him. He put on an air of sympathy when he saw the
+crutches.
+
+"You will soon throw them aside," he said, "but I am sorry that you
+should have to use them at all."
+
+When he entered, Zorzi was introducing a new mixture, carefully
+powdered, into one of the glass-pots with a small iron shovel. It was
+clear that he must put it all in at once, and he excused himself for
+going on with his work. Giovanni looked at the large quantity of the
+mixed ingredients with an experienced eye, and at once made up his mind
+that the crucible must have been quite empty. Zorzi was therefore
+beginning to make some kind of glass on his own account. It followed
+almost logically, according to Giovanni's view of men, fairly founded on
+a knowledge of himself, that Zorzi was experimenting with the secrets of
+Paolo Godi, which he and old Beroviero had buried together somewhere in
+that very room. Now, ever since the boy had told his story, Giovanni had
+been revolving plans for getting the manuscript into his possession
+during a few days, in order to copy it. A new scheme now suggested
+itself, and it looked so attractive that he at once attempted to carry
+it out.
+
+"It seems a pity," he said, "that a great artist like yourself should
+spend time on fruitless experiments. You might be making very beautiful
+things, which would sell for a high price."
+
+Without desisting from his occupation Zorzi glanced at his visitor,
+whose manner towards him had so entirely changed within a little more
+than a week. With a waif's quick instinct he guessed that Giovanni
+wanted something of him, but the generous instinct of the brave man
+towards the coward made him accept what seemed to be meant for an
+advance after a quarrel. It had never occurred to Zorzi to blame
+Giovanni for the accident in the glass-house, and it would have been
+very unjust to do so.
+
+"I can blow glass tolerably, sir," Zorzi answered. "But none of you
+great furnace owners would dare to employ me, in the face of the law.
+Besides, I am your father's man. I owe everything I know to his
+kindness."
+
+"I do not see what that has to do with it," returned Giovanni; "it does
+not diminish your merit, nor affect the truth of what I was saying. You
+might be doing better things. Any one can weigh out sand and kelp-ashes,
+and shovel them into a crucible!"
+
+"Do you mean that the master might employ me for other work?" asked
+Zorzi, smiling at the disdainful description of what he was doing.
+
+"My father--or some one else," answered Giovanni. "And besides your
+astonishing skill, I fancy that you possess much valuable knowledge of
+glass-making. You cannot have worked for my father so many years without
+learning some of the things he has taken great pains to hide from his
+own sons."
+
+He spoke the last words in a somewhat bitter tone, quite willing to let
+Zorzi know that he felt himself injured.
+
+"If I have learned anything of that sort by looking on and helping, when
+I have been trusted, it is not mine to use elsewhere," said Zorzi,
+rather proudly.
+
+"That is a fine moral sentiment, my dear young friend, and does you
+credit," replied Giovanni sententiously. "It is impossible not to
+respect a man who carries a fortune in his head and refuses to profit by
+it out of a delicate sense of honour."
+
+"I should have very little respect for a man who betrayed his master's
+secrets," said Zorzi.
+
+"You know them then?" inquired the other with unusual blandness.
+
+"I did not say so." Zorzi looked at him coldly.
+
+"Oh no! Even to admit it might not be discreet. But apart from Paolo
+Godi's secrets, which my father has left sealed in my care--"
+
+At this astounding falsehood Zorzi started and looked at Giovanni in
+unfeigned surprise.
+
+"--but which nothing would induce me to examine," continued Giovanni
+with perfect coolness, "there must be many others of my father's own,
+which you have learned by watching him. I respect you for your
+discretion. Why did you start and look at me when I said that the
+manuscript was in my keeping?"
+
+The question was well put, suddenly and without warning, and Zorzi was
+momentarily embarrassed to find an answer. Giovanni judged that his
+surprise proved the truth of the boy's story, and his embarrassment now
+added certainty to the proof. But Zorzi rarely lost his self-possession
+when he had a secret to keep.
+
+"If I seemed astonished," he said, "it may have been because you had
+just given me the impression that the master did not trust you, and I
+know how careful he is of the manuscript."
+
+"You know more than that, my friend," said Giovanni in a playful tone.
+
+Zorzi had now filled the crucible and was replacing the clay rings which
+narrow the aperture of the 'bocca.' He plastered more wet clay upon
+them, and it pleased Giovanni to see how well he knew every detail of
+the art, from the simplest to the most difficult operations.
+
+"Would anything you can think of induce you to leave my father?"
+Giovanni asked, as he had received no answer to his last remark. "Of
+course, I do not mean to speak of mere money, though few people quite
+despise it."
+
+"That may be understood in more than one way," answered Zorzi
+cautiously. "In the first place, do you mean that if I left the master,
+it would be to go to another master, or to set up as a master myself?"
+
+"Let us say that you might go to another glass-house for a fixed time,
+with the promise of then having a furnace of your own. How does that
+strike you?"
+
+"No one can give such a promise and keep it," said Zorzi, scraping the
+wet clay from his hands with a blunt knife.
+
+"But suppose that some one could," insisted Giovanni.
+
+"What is the use of supposing the impossible?" Zorzi shrugged his
+shoulders and went on scraping.
+
+"Nothing is impossible in the Republic, except what the Ten are resolved
+to hinder. And that is really impossible."
+
+"The Ten will not make new laws nor repeal old ones for the benefit of
+an unknown Dalmatian."
+
+"Perhaps not," answered Giovanni. "But on the other hand there is no
+very great penalty if you set up a furnace of your own. If you are
+discovered, your furnace will be put out, and you may have to pay a
+fine. It is no great matter. It is a civil offence, not a criminal one."
+
+"What is it that you wish of me?" asked Zorzi with sudden directness.
+"You are a busy man. You have not come here to pass a morning in idle
+conversation with your father's assistant. You want something of me,
+sir. Speak out plainly. If I can do what you wish, I will do it. If I
+cannot, I will tell you so, frankly."
+
+Giovanni was a little disconcerted by this speech. Excepting where money
+was concerned directly, his intelligence was of the sort that easily
+wastes its energy in futile cunning. He had not meant to reach the point
+for a long time, if he had expected to reach it at all at a first
+attempt.
+
+"I like your straightforwardness," he said evasively. "But I do not
+think your conversation idle. On the contrary, I find it highly
+instructive."
+
+"Indeed?" Zorzi laughed. "You do me much honour, sir! What have you
+learned from me this morning?"
+
+"What I wished to know," answered Giovanni with a change of tone, and
+looking at him keenly.
+
+Zorzi returned the glance, and the two men faced each other in silence
+for a moment. Zorzi knew what Giovanni meant, as soon as the other had
+spoken. The quick movement of surprise, which was the only indiscretion
+of which Zorzi had been guilty, would have betrayed to any one that he
+knew where the manuscript was, even if it were not in his immediate
+keeping. His instinct was to take the offensive and accuse his visitor
+of having laid a trap for him, but his caution prevailed.
+
+"Whatever you may think that you have learned from me," he said,
+"remember that I have told you nothing."
+
+"Is it here, in this room?" asked Giovanni, not heeding his last speech,
+and hoping to surprise him again.
+
+But he was prepared now, and his face did not change as he replied.
+
+"I cannot answer any questions," he said.
+
+"You and my father hid it together," returned Giovanni. "When you had
+buried it under the stones in this room, you carried the earth out with
+a shovel and scattered it about on a flower-bed. You took out three
+shovelfuls of earth in that way. You see, I know everything. What is the
+use of trying to hide your secret from me?"
+
+Zorzi was now convinced that Giovanni himself had been lurking in the
+garden.
+
+"Sir," he said, with ill-concealed contempt for a man capable of such
+spy's work, "if you have more to say of the same nature, pray say it to
+your father, when he comes back."
+
+"You misunderstand me," returned Giovanni with sudden mildness. "I had
+no intention of offending you. I only meant to warn you that you were
+watched on that night. The person who informed me has no doubt told many
+others also. It would have been very ill for you, if my father had
+returned to find that his secret was public property, and if you had
+been unable to explain that you had not betrayed him. I have given you a
+weapon of defence. You may call upon me to repeat what I have said, when
+you speak with him."
+
+"I am obliged to you, sir," said Zorzi coldly. "I shall not need to
+disturb you."
+
+"You are not wise," returned Giovanni gravely. "If I were
+curious--fortunately for you I am not!--I would send for a mason and
+have some of the stones of the pavement turned over before me. A mason
+would soon find the one you moved by trying them all with his hammer."
+
+"Yes," said Zorzi. "If this were a room in your own glass-house, you
+could do that. But it is not."
+
+"I am in charge of all that belongs to my father, during his absence,"
+answered Giovanni.
+
+"Yes," said Zorzi again. "Including Paolo Godi's manuscript, as you told
+me," he added.
+
+"You understand very well why I said that," Giovanni answered, with
+visible annoyance.
+
+"I only know that you said it," was the retort. "And as I cannot suppose
+that you did not know what you were saying, still less that you
+intentionally told an untruth, I really cannot see why you should
+suggest bringing a mason here to search for what must be in your own
+keeping."
+
+Zorzi spoke with a quiet smile, for he felt that he had the best of it.
+Be was surprised when Giovanni broke into a peal of rather affected
+laughter.
+
+"You are hard to catch!" he cried, and laughed again. "You did not
+really suppose that I was in earnest? Why, every one knows that you have
+the manuscript here."
+
+"Then I suppose you spoke ironically," suggested Zorzi.
+
+"Of course, of course! A mere jest! If I had known that you would take
+it so literally--" he stopped short.
+
+"Pray excuse me, sir. It is the first time I have ever heard you say
+anything playful."
+
+"Indeed! The fact is, my dear Zorzi, I never knew you well enough to
+jest with you, till to-day. Paolo Godi's secrets in my keeping? I wish
+they were! Oh, not that anything would induce me to break the seals. I
+told you that. But I wish they were in my possession. I tell you, I
+would pay down half my fortune to have them, for they would bring me
+back four times as much within the year. Half my fortune! And I am not
+poor, Zorzi."
+
+"Half your fortune?" repeated Zorzi. "That is a large sum, I imagine.
+Pray, sir, how much might half your fortune be, in round numbers? Ten
+thousand silver lires?"
+
+"Silver!" sneered Giovanni contemptuously.
+
+"Gold, then?" suggested Zorzi, drawing him on.
+
+"Gold? Well--possibly," admitted Giovanni with caution. "But of course I
+was exaggerating. Ten thousand gold pounds would be too much, of course.
+Say, five thousand."
+
+"I thought you were richer than that," said Zorzi coolly.
+
+"Do you mean that five thousand would not be enough to pay for the
+manuscript?" asked Giovanni.
+
+"The profits of glass-making are very large when one possesses a
+valuable secret," said Zorzi. "Five thousand--" He paused, as though in
+doubt, or as if making a mental calculation. Giovanni fell into the
+trap.
+
+"I would give six," he said, lowering his voice to a still more
+confidential tone, and watching his companion eagerly.
+
+"For six thousand gold lires," said Zorzi, smiling, "I am quite sure
+that you could hire a ruffian to break in and cut the throat of the man
+who has charge of the manuscript."
+
+Giovanni's face fell, but he quickly assumed an expression of righteous
+indignation.
+
+"How can you dare to suggest that I would employ such means to rob my
+father?" he cried.
+
+"If it were your intention to rob your father, sir, I cannot see that it
+would matter greatly what means you employed. But I was only jesting, as
+you were when you said that you had the manuscript. I did not expect
+that you would take literally what I said."
+
+"I see, I see," answered Giovanni, accepting the means of escape Zorzi
+offered him. "You were paying me back in my own coin! Well, well! It
+served me right, after all. You have a ready wit."
+
+"I thought that if my conversation were not as instructive as you had
+hoped, I could at least try to make it amusing--light, gay, witty! I
+trust you will not take it ill."
+
+"Not I!" Giovanni tried to laugh. "But what a wonderful thing is this
+human imagination of ours! Now, as I talked of the secrets, I forgot
+that they were my father's, they seemed almost within my grasp, I was
+ready to count out the gold, to count out six thousand gold lires. Think
+of that!"
+
+"They are worth it," said Zorzi quietly.
+
+"You should know best," answered the other. "There is no such glass as
+my father's for lightness and strength. If he had a dozen workmen like
+you, my brother and I should be ruined in trying to compete with him. I
+watched you very closely the other day, and I watched the others, too.
+By the bye, my friend, was that really an accident, or does the man owe
+you some grudge? I never saw such a thing happen before!"
+
+"It was an accident, of course," replied Zorzi without hesitation.
+
+"If you knew that the man had injured you intentionally, you should have
+justice at once," said Giovanni. "As it is, I have no doubt that my
+father will turn him out without mercy."
+
+"I hope not." Zorzi would say nothing more.
+
+Giovanni rose to go away. He stood still a moment in thought, and then
+smiled suddenly as if recollecting himself.
+
+"The imagination is an extraordinary thing!" he said, going back to the
+past conversation. "At this very moment I was thinking again that I was
+actually paying out the money--six thousand lires in gold! I must be
+mad!"
+
+"No," said Zorzi. "I think not."
+
+Giovanni turned away, shaking his head and still smiling. To tell the
+truth, though he knew Zorzi's character, he had not believed that any
+one could refuse such a bribe, and he was trying to account for the
+Dalmatian's integrity by reckoning up the expectations the young man
+must have, to set against such a large sum of ready money. He could only
+find one solution to the problem: Zorzi was already in full possession
+of the secrets, and would therefore not sell them at any price, because
+he hoped before long to set up for himself and make his own fortune by
+them. If this were true, and he could not see how it could be otherwise,
+he and his brother would be cheated of their heritage when their father
+died.
+
+It was clear that something must be done to hinder Zorzi from carrying
+out his scheme. After all, Zorzi's own jesting proposal, that a ruffian
+should be employed to cut his throat, was not to be rejected. It was a
+simple plan, direct and conclusive. It might not be possible to find
+the manuscript after all, but the only man who knew its contents would
+be removed, and Beroviero's sons would inherit what should come to them
+by right. Against this project there was the danger that the murderer
+might some day betray the truth, under torture, or might come back again
+and again, and demand more money; but the killing of a man who was not
+even a Venetian, who was an interloper, who could be proved to have
+abused his master's confidence, when he should be no longer alive to
+defend himself, did not strike Giovanni as a very serious matter, and as
+for any one ever forcing him to pay money which he did not wish to pay,
+he knew that to be a feat beyond the ability of an ordinary person.
+
+One other course suggested itself at once. He could forestall Zorzi by
+writing to his father and telling him what he sincerely believed to be
+the truth. He knew the old man well, and was sure that if once persuaded
+that Zorzi had betrayed him by using the manuscript, he would be
+merciless. The difficulty would lie in making Beroviero believe anything
+against his favourite. Yet in Giovanni's estimation the proofs were
+overwhelming. Besides, he had another weapon with which to rouse his
+father's anger against the Dalmatian. Since Marietta had defied him and
+had gone to see Zorzi in the laboratory, he had not found what he
+considered a convenient opportunity of speaking to her on the subject;
+that is to say, he had lacked the moral courage to do so at all. But it
+would need no courage to complain of her conduct to their father, and
+though Beroviero's anger might fall chiefly upon Marietta, a portion of
+it would take effect against Zorzi. It would be one more force acting in
+the direction of his ruin.
+
+Giovanni went away to his own glass-house, meditating all manner of evil
+to his enemy, and as he reckoned up the chances of success, he began to
+wonder how he could have been so weak as to offer Zorzi an enormous
+bribe, instead of proceeding at once to his destruction.
+
+Unconscious of his growing danger, Zorzi fed the fire of the furnace,
+and then sat down at the table before the window, laid his crutches
+beside him, and began to write out the details of his own experiments,
+as the master had done for years. He wrote the rather elaborate
+characters of the fifteenth century in a small but clear hand, very
+unlike old Beroviero's. The window was open, and the light breeze blew
+in, fanning his heated forehead; for the weather was growing hotter and
+hotter, and the order had been given to let the main furnaces cool after
+the following Saturday, as the workmen could not bear the heat many days
+longer. After that, they would set to work in a shed at the back of the
+glass-house to knead the clay for making new crucibles, and the night
+boys would enjoy their annual holiday, which consisted in helping the
+workmen by treading the stiff clay in water for several hours every day.
+
+A man's shadow darkened the window while Zorzi was writing, and he
+looked up. Pasquale was standing outside.
+
+"There is a pestering fellow at the door," he said, "who will not be
+satisfied till he has spoken with you. He says he has a message for you
+from some one in Venice, which he must deliver himself."
+
+"For me?" Zorzi rose in surprise.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+Zorzi swung himself along the dark corridor on his crutches after
+Pasquale, who opened the outer door with his usual deliberation. A
+little man stood outside in grey hose and a servant's dark coat,
+gathered in at the waist by a leathern belt. He was clean shaven and his
+hair was cropped close to his head, which was bare, for he held his
+black hat in his hand. Zorzi did not like his face. He waited for Zorzi
+to speak first.
+
+"Have you a message for me?" asked the Dalmatian. "I am Zorzi."
+
+"That is the name, sir," answered the man respectfully. "My master begs
+the honour and pleasure of your company this evening, as usual."
+
+"Where?" asked Zorzi.
+
+"My master said that you would know the place, sir, having been there
+before."
+
+"What is your master's name?"
+
+"The Angel," answered the man promptly, keeping his eyes on Zorzi's
+face.
+
+The latter nodded, and the servant at once made an awkward obeisance
+preparatory to going away.
+
+"Tell your master," said Zorzi, "that I have hurt my foot and am walking
+on crutches, so that I cannot come this evening, but that I thank him
+for his invitation, and send greeting to him and to the other guests."
+
+The man repeated some of the words in a tone hardly audible, evidently
+committing the message to memory.
+
+"Signor Zorzi--hurt his foot--crutches--thanks--greeting," he mumbled.
+"Yes, sir," he added in his ordinary voice, "I will say all that. Your
+servant, sir."
+
+With another awkward bow, he turned away to the right and walked very
+quickly along the footway. He had left his boat at the entrance to the
+canal, not knowing exactly where the glass-house was. Zorzi looked after
+him a moment, then turned himself on his sound foot and set his crutches
+before him to go in. Pasquale was there, and must have heard what had
+passed. He shut the door and followed Zorzi back a little way.
+
+"It is no concern of mine," he said roughly. "You may amuse yourself as
+you please, for you are young, and your host may be the Archangel
+Michael himself, or the holy Saint Mark, and the house to which you are
+bidden may be a paradise full of other angels! But I would as soon sit
+down before the grating and look at the hooded brother, while the
+executioner slipped the noose over my head to strangle me, as to go to
+any place on a bidding delivered by a fellow with such a jail-bird's
+head. It is as round as a bullet and as yellow as cheese. He has eyes
+like a turtle's and teeth like those of a young shark."
+
+"I am quite of your opinion," said Zorzi, halting at the entrance to the
+garden.
+
+"Then why did you not kick him into the canal?" inquired the porter,
+with admirable logic.
+
+"Do I look as if I could kick anything?" asked Zorzi, laughing and
+glancing at his lame foot.
+
+"And where should I have been?" inquired Pasquale indignantly. "Asleep,
+perhaps? If you had said 'kick,' I would have kicked. Perhaps I am a
+statue!"
+
+Zorzi pointed out that it was not usual to answer invitations in that
+way, even when declining them.
+
+"And who knows what sort of invitation it was?" retorted the old porter
+discontentedly. "Since when have you friends in Venice who bid you come
+to their houses at night, like a thief? Honest men, who are friends, say
+'Come and eat with me at noon, for to-day we have this, or this'--say, a
+roast sucking pig, or tripe with garlic. And perhaps you go; and when
+you have eaten and drunk and it is the cool of the afternoon, you come
+home. That is what Christians do. Who are they that meet at night? They
+are thieves, or conspirators, or dice-players, or all three."
+
+Pasquale happened to have been right in two guesses out of three, and
+Zorzi thought it better to say nothing. There was no fear that the surly
+old man would tell any one of the message; he had proved himself too
+good a friend to Zorzi to do anything which could possibly bring him
+into trouble, and Zorzi was willing to let him think what he pleased,
+rather than run the smallest risk of betraying the society of which he
+had been obliged to become a member. But he was curious to know why
+Contarini kept such a singularly unprepossessing servant, and why, if he
+chose to keep him, he made use of him to deliver invitations. The fellow
+had the look of a born criminal; he was just such a man as Zorzi had
+thought of when he had jestingly proposed to Giovanni to hire a
+murderer. Indeed, the more Zorzi thought of his face, the more he was
+inclined to doubt that the man came from Contarini at all.
+
+But in this he was mistaken. The message was genuine, and moreover, so
+far as Contarini and the society were concerned, the man was perfectly
+trustworthy. Possibly there were reasons why Contarini chose to employ
+him, and also why the servant was so consistently faithful to his
+master. After all, Zorzi reflected, he was certainly ignorant of the
+fact that the noble young idlers who met at the house of the Agnus Dei
+were playing at conspiracy and revolution.
+
+But that night, when Contarini's friends were assembled and had counted
+their members, some one asked what had become of the Murano
+glass-blower, and whether he was not going to attend their meetings in
+future; and Contarini answered that Zorzi had hurt his foot and was on
+crutches, and sent a greeting to the guests. Most of them were glad that
+he was not there, for he was not of their own order, and his presence
+caused a certain restraint in their talk. Besides, he was poor, and did
+not play at dice.
+
+"He works with Angelo Beroviero, does he not?" asked Zuan Venier in a
+tone of weary indifference.
+
+"Yes," answered Contarini with a laugh. "He is in the service of my
+future father-in-law."
+
+"To whom may heaven accord a speedy, painless and Christian death!"
+laughed Foscari in his black beard.
+
+"Not till I am one of his heirs, if you please," returned Contarini. "As
+soon after the wedding day as you like, for besides her rich dowry, the
+lady is to have a share of his inheritance."
+
+"Is she very ugly?" asked Loredan. "Poor Jacopo! You have the sympathy
+of the brethren."
+
+"How does he know?" sneered Mocenigo. "He has never seen her. Besides,
+why should he care, since she is rich?"
+
+"You are mistaken, for I have seen her," said Contarini, looking down
+the table. "She is not at all ill-looking, I assure you. The old man was
+so much afraid that I would not agree to the match that he took her to
+church so that I might look at her."
+
+"And you did?" asked Mocenigo. "I should never have had the courage. She
+might have been hideous, and in that case I should have preferred not to
+find it out till I was married."
+
+"I looked at her with some interest," said Contarini, smiling in a
+self-satisfied way. "I am bound to say, with all modesty, that she also
+looked at me," he added, passing his white hand over his thick hair.
+
+"Of course," put in Foscari gravely. "Any woman would, I should think."
+
+"I suppose so," answered Contarini complacently. "It is not my fault if
+they do."
+
+"Nor your misfortune," added Fosoari, with as much gravity as before.
+
+Zuan Venier had not joined in the banter, which seemed to him to be of
+the most atrocious taste. He had liked Zorzi and had just made up his
+mind to go to Murano the next day and find him out.
+
+On that evening there was not so much as a mention of what was supposed
+to bring them together. Before they had talked a quarter of an hour,
+some one began to throw dice on the table, playing with his right hand
+against his left, and in a few moments the real play had begun.
+
+High up in Arisa's room the Georgian woman and Aristarchi heard all that
+was said, crouching together upon the floor beside the opening the slave
+had discovered. When the voices were no longer heard except at rare
+intervals, in short exclamations of satisfaction or disappointment, and
+only the regular rattling and falling of the dice broke the silence, the
+pair drew back from the praying-stool.
+
+"They will say nothing more to-night," whispered Arisa. "They will play
+for hours."
+
+"They had not said a word that could put their necks in danger,"
+answered Aristarchi discontentedly. "Who is this fellow from the
+glass-house, of whom they were speaking?"
+
+Arisa led him away to a small divan between the open windows. She sat
+down against the cushions at the back, but he stretched his bulk upon
+the floor, resting his head against her knee. She softly rubbed his
+rough hair with the palm of her hand, as she might have caressed a cat,
+or a tame wild animal. It gave her a pleasant sensation that had a
+thrill of danger in it, for she always expected that he would turn and
+set his teeth into her fingers.
+
+She told him the story of the last meeting, and how Zorzi had been made
+one of the society in order that they might not feel obliged to kill him
+for their own safety.
+
+"What fools they are!" exclaimed Aristarchi with a low laugh, and
+turning his head under her hand.
+
+"You would have killed him, of course," said Arisa, "if you had been in
+their place. I suppose you have killed many people," she added
+thoughtfully.
+
+"No," he answered, for though he loved her savagely, he did not trust
+her. "I never killed any one except in fair fight."
+
+Arisa laughed low, for she remembered.
+
+"When I first saw you," she said, "your hands were covered with blood. I
+think the reason why I liked you was that you seemed so much more
+terrible than all the others who looked in at my cabin door."
+
+"I am as mild as milk and almonds," said Aristarchi. "I am as timid as a
+rabbit."
+
+His deep voice was like the purring of a huge cat. Arisa looked down at
+his head. Then her hands suddenly clasped his throat and she tried to
+make her fingers meet round it as if she would have strangled him, but
+it was too big for them. He drew in his chin a little, the iron muscles
+stiffened themselves, the cords stood out, and though she pressed with
+all her might she could not hurt him, even a little; but she loved to
+try.
+
+"I am sure I could strangle Contarini," she said quietly. "He has a
+throat like a woman's."
+
+"What a murderous creature you are!" purred the Greek, against hex knee.
+"You are always talking of killing."
+
+"I should like to see you fighting for your life," she answered, "or for
+me."
+
+"It is the same thing," he said.
+
+"I should like to see it. It would be a splendid sight."
+
+"What if I got the worst of it?" asked Aristarchi, his vast mouth
+grinning at the idea.
+
+"You?" Arisa laughed contemptuously. "The man is not born who could kill
+you. I am sure of it."
+
+"One very nearly succeeded, once upon a time," said Aristarchi.
+
+"One man? I do not believe it!"
+
+"He chanced to be an executioner," answered the Greek calmly, "and I had
+my hands tied behind me."
+
+"Tell me about it."
+
+Arisa bent down eagerly, for she loved to hear of his adventures, though
+he had his own way of narrating them which always made him out innocent
+of any evil intention.
+
+"There is nothing to tell. It was in Naples. A woman betrayed me and
+they bound me in my sleep. In the morning I was condemned to death,
+thrown into a cart and dragged off to be hanged. I thought it was all
+over, for the cords were new, so that I could not break them. I tried
+hard enough! But even if I had broken loose, I could never have fought
+my way through the crowd alone. The noose was around my neck."
+
+He stopped, as if he had told everything.
+
+"Go on!" said Arisa. "How did you escape? What an adventure!"
+
+"One of my men saved me. He had a little learning, and could pass for a
+monk when he could get a cowl. He went out before it was daylight that
+morning, and exchanged clothes with a burly friar whom he met in a quiet
+place."
+
+"But how did the friar agree to that?" asked Arisa in surprise.
+
+"He had nothing to say. He was dead," answered Aristarchi.
+
+"Do you mean to say that he chanced to find a dead friar lying in the
+road?" asked the Georgian.
+
+"How should I know? I daresay the monk was alive when he met my man, and
+happened to die a few minutes afterwards--by mere chance. It was very
+fortunate, was it not?"
+
+"Yes!" Arisa laughed softly. "But what did he do? Why did he take the
+trouble to dress the monk in his clothes?"
+
+"In order to receive his dying confession, of course. I thought you
+would understand! And his dying confession was that he, Michael Pandos,
+a Greek robber, had killed the man for whose murder I was being hanged
+that morning. My man came just in time, for as the friar's head was half
+shaved, as monks' heads are, he had to shave the rest, as they do for
+coolness in the south, and he had only his knife with which to do it.
+But no one found that out, for he had been a barber, as he had been a
+monk and most other things. He looked very well in a cowl, and spoke
+Neapolitan. I did not know him when he came to the foot of the gallows,
+howling out that I was innocent."
+
+"Were you?" asked Arisa.
+
+"Of course I was," answered Aristarchi with conviction.
+
+"Who was the man that had been killed?"
+
+"I forget his name," said the Greek. "He was a Neapolitan gentleman of
+great family, I believe. I forget the name. He had red hair."
+
+Arisa laughed and stroked Aristarchi's big head. She thought she had
+made him betray himself.
+
+"You had seen him then?" she said, with a question. "I suppose you
+happened to see him just before he died, as your man saw the monk."
+
+"Oh no!" answered Aristarchi, who was not to be so easily caught. "It
+was part of the dying confession. It was necessary to identify the
+murdered person. How should Michael Parados, the Greek robber, know the
+name of the gentleman he had killed? He gave a minute description of
+him. He said he had red hair."
+
+"You are not a Greek for nothing," laughed Arisa.
+
+"Did you ever hear of Odysseus?" asked Aristarchi.
+
+"No. What should I know of your Greek gods? If you were a good
+Christian, you would not speak of them."
+
+"Odysseus was not a god," answered Aristarchi, with a grin. "He was a
+good Christian. I have often thought that he must have been very like
+me. He was a great traveller and a tolerable sailor."
+
+"A pirate?" inquired Arisa.
+
+"Oh no! He was a man of the most noble and upright character, incapable
+of deception! In fact he was very like me, and had nearly as many
+adventures. If you understood Greek, I would repeat some verses I know
+about him."
+
+"Should you love me more, if I understood Greek?" asked Arisa softly.
+"If I thought so, I would learn it."
+
+Aristarchi laughed roughly, so that she was almost afraid lest he should
+be heard far down in the house.
+
+"Learn Greek? You? To make me like you better? You would be just as
+beautiful if you were altogether dumb! A man does not love a woman for
+what she can say to him, in any language."
+
+He turned up his face, and his rough hands drew her splendid head down
+to him, till he could kiss her. Then there was silence for a few
+minutes.
+
+He shook his great shoulders at last.
+
+"Everything else is a waste of time," he said, as if speaking to
+himself.
+
+Her head lay on the cushions now, and she watched him with half-closed
+eyes in the soft light, and now and then the thin embroideries that
+covered her neck and bosom rose and fell with a long, satisfied sigh. He
+rose to his feet and slowly paced the marble floor, up and down before
+her, as he would have paced the little poop-deck of his vessel.
+
+"I am glad you told me about that glass-blower," he said suddenly. "I
+have met him and talked with him, and I may meet him again. He is old
+Beroviero's chief assistant. I fancy he is in love with the daughter."
+
+"In love with the girl whom Contarini is to marry?" asked Arisa,
+suddenly opening her eyes.
+
+"Yes. I told you what I said to the old man in his private room--it was
+more like a brick-kiln than a rich man's counting-house! While I was
+inside, the young man was talking to the girl under a tree. I saw them
+through a low window as I sat discussing business with Beroviero."
+
+"You could not hear what they said, I suppose."
+
+"No. But I could see what they looked." Aristarchi laughed at his own
+conceit. "The girl was doing some kind of work. The young man stood
+beside her, resting one hand against the tree. I could not see his face
+all the time, but I saw hers. She is in love with him. They were talking
+earnestly and she said something that had a strong effect upon him, for
+I saw that he stood a long time looking at the trunk of the tree, and
+saying nothing. What can you make of that, except that they are in love
+with each other?"
+
+"That is strange," said Arisa, "for it was he that brought the message
+to Contarini, bidding him go and see her in Saint Mark's. That was how
+he chanced upon them, downstairs, at their last meeting."
+
+"How do you know it was that message, and not some other?"
+
+"Contarini told me."
+
+"But if the boy loves her, as I am sure he does, why should he have
+delivered the message?" asked; the cunning Greek. "It would have been
+very easy for him to have named another hour, and Contarini would never
+have seen her. Besides, he had a fine chance then to send the future
+husband to Paradise! He needed only to name a quiet street, instead of
+the Church, and to appoint the hour at dusk. One, two and three in the
+back, the body to the canal, and the marriage would have been broken
+off."
+
+"Perhaps he does not wish it broken off," suggested Arisa, taking an
+equally amiable but somewhat different point of view. "He cannot marry
+the girl, of course--but if she is once married and out of her father's
+house, it will be different."
+
+"That is an idea," assented Aristarchi. "Look at us two. It is very much
+the same position, and Contarini will be indifferent about her, which he
+is not, where you are concerned. Between the glass-blower and me, and
+his wife and you, he will not be a man to be envied. That is another
+reason for helping the marriage as much as we can."
+
+"What if the glass-blower makes her give him money?" asked the Georgian
+woman. "If she loves him she will give him everything she has, and he
+will take all he can get, of course."
+
+"Of course, if she had anything to give," said Aristarchi. "But she will
+only have what you allow Contarini to give her. The young man knows well
+enough that her dowry will all be paid to her husband on the day of the
+marriage. It does not matter, for if he is in love he will not care much
+about the money."
+
+"I hope he will be careful. Any one else may see him with her, as you
+did, and may warn old Contarini that his intended daughter-in-law is in
+love with a boy belonging to the glass-house. The marriage would be
+broken off at once if that happened."
+
+"That is true."
+
+So they talked together, judging Zorzi and Marietta according to their
+views of human nature, which they deduced chiefly from their experience
+of themselves. From time to time Arisa went and listened at the hole in
+the floor, and when she heard the guests beginning to take their leave
+she hid Aristarchi in the embrasure of a disused window that was
+concealed by a tapestry, and she went into the larger room and lay down
+among the cushions by the balcony. When Contarini came, a few minutes
+later, she seemed to have fallen asleep like a child, weary of waiting
+for him.
+
+So far both she and Aristarchi looked upon Zorzi, who did not know of
+their existence, with a friendly eye, but their knowledge of his love
+for Marietta was in reality one more danger in his path. If at any
+future moment he seemed about to endanger the success of their plans,
+the strong Greek would soon find an opportunity of sending him to
+another world, as he had sent many another innocent enemy before. They
+themselves were safe enough for the present, and it was not likely that
+they would commit any indiscretion that might endanger their future
+flight. They had long ago determined what to do if Contarini should
+accidentally find Aristarchi in the house. Long before his body was
+found, they would both be on the high seas; few persons knew of Arisa's
+existence, no one connected the Greek merchant captain in any way with
+Contarini, and no one guessed the sailing qualities of the unobtrusive
+vessel that lay in the Giudecca waiting for a cargo, but ballasted to do
+her best, and well stocked with provisions and water. The crew knew
+nothing, when other sailors asked when they were to sail; the men could
+only say that their captain was the owner of the vessel and was very
+hard to please in the matter of a cargo.
+
+In one way or another the two were sure of gaining their end, as soon as
+they should have amassed a sufficient fortune to live in luxury
+somewhere in the far south.
+
+A change in the situation was brought about by the appearance of Zuan
+Venier at the glass-house on the following morning. Indolent, tired of
+his existence, sick of what amused and interested his companions, but
+generous, true and kind-hearted, he had been sorry to hear that Zorzi
+had suffered by an accident, and he felt impelled to go and see whether
+the young fellow needed help. Venier did not remember that he had ever
+resisted an impulse in his life, though he took the greatest pains to
+hide the fact that he ever felt any. He perhaps did not realise that
+although he had done many foolish things, and some that a confessor
+would not have approved, he had never wished to do anything that was
+mean, or unkind, or that might give him an unfair advantage over others.
+
+He fancied Zorzi alone, uncared for, perhaps obliged to work in spite of
+his lameness, and it occurred to him that he might help him in some way,
+though it was by no means clear what direction his help should take. He
+did not know that Beroviero was absent, and he intended to call for the
+old glass-maker. It would be easy to say that he was an old friend of
+Jacopo Contarini and wished to make the acquaintance of Marietta's
+father before the wedding. He would probably have an opportunity of
+speaking to Zorzi without showing that he already knew him, and he
+trusted to Zorzi's discretion to conceal the fact, for he was a good
+judge of men.
+
+It turned out to be much easier to carry out his plan than he had
+expected.
+
+"My name is Zuan Venier," he said, in answer to Pasquale's gruff
+inquiry.
+
+Pasquale eyed him a moment through the bars, and immediately understood
+that he was not a person to be kicked into the canal or received with
+other similar amenities. The great name alone would have awed the old
+porter to something like civility, but he had seen the visitor's face,
+and being quite as good a judge of humanity as Venier himself, he opened
+the door at once.
+
+Venier explained that he wished to pay his respects to Messer Angelo
+Beroviero, being an old friend of Messer Jacopo Contarini. Learning that
+the master was absent on a journey, he asked whether there were any one
+within to whom he could deliver a message. He had heard, he said, that
+the master had a trusted assistant, a certain Zorzi. Pasquale answered
+that Zorzi was in the laboratory, and led the way.
+
+Zorzi was greatly surprised, but as Venier had anticipated, he said
+nothing before Pasquale which could show that he had met his visitor
+before. Venier made a courteous inclination of the head, and the porter
+disappeared immediately.
+
+"I heard that you had been hurt," said Venier, when they were alone. "I
+came to see whether I could do anything for you. Can I?"
+
+Zorzi was touched by the kind words, spoken so quietly and sincerely,
+for it was only lately that any one except Marietta had shown him a
+little consideration. He had not forgotten how his master had taken
+leave of him, and the unexpected friendliness of old Pasquale after his
+accident had made a difference in his life; but of all men he had ever
+met, Venier was the one whom he had instinctively desired for a friend.
+
+"Have you come over from Venice on purpose to see me?" he asked, in
+something like wonder.
+
+"Yes," answered Venier with a smile. "Why are you surprised?"
+
+"Because it is so good of you."
+
+"You have solemnly sworn to do as much for me, and for all the
+companions of our society," returned Venier, still smiling. "We are to
+help each other under all circumstances, as far as we can, you know. You
+are standing, and it must tire you, with those crutches. Shall we sit
+down? Tell me quite frankly, is there anything I can do for you?"
+
+"Nothing you could ever do could make me more grateful than I am to you
+for coming," answered Zorzi sincerely.
+
+Venier took the crutches from his hands and helped him to sit on the
+bench.
+
+"You are very kind," Zorzi said.
+
+Venier sat down beside him and asked him all manner of questions about
+his accident, and how it had happened. Zorzi had no reason for
+concealing the truth from him.
+
+"They all hate me here," he said. "It happened like an accident, but the
+man made it happen. I do not think that he intended to maim me for life,
+but he meant to hurt me badly, and he did. There was not a man or a boy
+in the furnace room who did not understand, for no workman ever yet let
+his blow-pipe slip from his hand in swinging a piece. But I do not wish
+to make matters worse, and I have said that I believed it was an
+accident."
+
+"I should like to come across the man who did it," said Venier, his eyes
+growing hard and steely.
+
+"When I tried to hop to the furnace on one leg to save myself from
+falling, one of the men cried out that I was a dancer, and laughed. I
+hear that the name has stuck to me among the workmen. I am called the
+'Ballarin.'"
+
+The ignoble meanness of Zorzi's tormentors roused Venier's generous
+blood.
+
+"You will yet be their master," he said. "You will some day have a
+furnace of your own, and they will fawn to you. Your nickname will be
+better than their names in a few years!"
+
+"I hope so," answered Zorzi.
+
+"I know it," said the other, with an energy that would have surprised
+those who only knew the listless young nobleman whom nothing could amuse
+or interest.
+
+He did not stay very long, and when he went away he said nothing about
+coming again. Zorzi went with him to the door. He had asked the
+Dalmatian to tell old Beroviero of his visit. Pasquale, who had never
+done such a thing in his life, actually went out upon the footway to the
+steps and steadied the gondola by the gunwale while Venier got in.
+
+Giovanni Beroviero saw Venier come out, for it was near noon, and he had
+just come back from his own glass-house and was standing in the shadow
+of his father's doorway, slowly fanning himself with his large cap
+before he went upstairs, for it had been very hot in the sun. He did not
+know Zuan Venier by sight, but there was no mistaking the Venetian's
+high station, and he was surprised to see that the nobleman was
+evidently on good terns with Zorzi.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+Zorzi had not left the glass-house since he had been hurt, but he
+foresaw that he might be obliged to leave the laboratory for an hour or
+more, now that he was better. He could walk, with one crutch and a
+stick, resting a little on the injured foot, and he felt sure that in a
+few days he should be able to walk with the stick alone. He had the
+certainty that he was lame for life, and now and then, when it was dusk
+and he sat under the plane-tree, meditating upon the uncertain future,
+he felt a keen pang at the thought that he might never again walk
+without limping; for he had been light and agile, and very swift of foot
+as a boy.
+
+He fancied that Marietta would pity him, but not as she had pitied him
+at first. There would be a little feeling of repulsion for the cripple,
+mixed with her compassion for the man. It was true that, as matters were
+going now, he might not see her often again, and he was quite sure that
+he had no right to think of loving her. Zuan Venier's visit had recalled
+very clearly the obligations by which he had solemnly bound himself, and
+which he honestly meant to fulfil; and apart from them, when he tried to
+reason about his love, he could make it seem absurd enough that he
+should dream of winning Marietta for his wife.
+
+But love itself does not argue. At first it is seen far off, like a
+beautiful bird of rare plumage, among flowers, on a morning in spring;
+it comes nearer, it is timid, it advances, it recedes, it poises on
+swiftly beating wings, it soars out of sight, but suddenly it is nearer
+than before; it changes shapes, and grows vast and terrible, till its
+flight is like the rushing of the whirlwind; then all is calm again, and
+in the stillness a sweet voice sings the chant of peace or the
+melancholy dirge of an endless regret; it is no longer the dove, nor the
+eagle, nor the storm that leaves ruin in its track--it is everything, it
+is life, it is the world itself, for ever and time without end, for good
+or evil, for such happiness as may pass all understanding, if God will,
+and if not, for undying sorrow.
+
+Zorzi had forgotten his small resentment against Marietta, for not
+having given him a sign nor sent one word of greeting. He knew only that
+he loved her with all his heart and would give every hope he had for the
+pressure of her hand in his and the sound of her answering voice; and he
+dreaded lest she should pity him, as one pities a hurt creature that one
+would rather not touch.
+
+It would not be in the hope of seeing her that he might leave the
+laboratory before long. He felt quite sure that Giovanni would make some
+further attempt to get possession of the little book that meant fortune
+to him who should possess it; and Giovanni evidently knew where it was.
+It would he easy for him to send Zorzi on an errand of importance, as
+soon as he should be so far recovered as to walk a little. The great
+glass-houses had dealings with the banks in Venice and with merchants of
+all countries, and Beroviero had more than once sent Zorzi to Venice on
+business of moment. Giovanni would come in some morning and declare that
+he could trust no one but Zorzi to collect certain sums of money in the
+city, and he would take care that the matter should keep him absent
+several hours. That would be ample time in which to try the flagstones
+with a hammer and to turn over the right one. Zorzi had convinced
+himself that it gave a hollow sound when he tapped it and that Giovanni
+could find it easily enough.
+
+It was therefore folly to leave the box in its present place any longer,
+and he cast about in his mind for some safer spot in which to hide it.
+In the meantime, fearing lest Giovanni might think of sending him out at
+any moment, he waited till Pasquale had brought him water in the
+morning, and then raised the stone, as he had done before, took the box
+out of the earth and hid it in the cool end of the annealing oven, while
+he replaced the slab. The effort it cost him to move the latter told him
+plainly enough that his injury had weakened him almost as an illness
+might have done, but he succeeded in getting the stone into its bed at
+last. He tapped it with the end of his crutch as he knelt on the floor,
+and the sound it gave was even more hollow than before. He smiled as he
+thought how easily Giovanni would find the place, and how grievously
+disappointed he would be when he realised that it was empty.
+
+It occurred at once to Zorzi that Giovanni's first impression would
+naturally be that Zorzi had taken the book himself in order to use it
+during the master's absence; and this thought perplexed him for a time,
+until he reflected that Giovanni could not accuse him of the deed
+without accusing himself of having searched for the box, a proceeding
+which his father would never forgive. Zorzi did not intend to tell the
+master of his conversation with Giovanni, nor of his suspicions. He
+would only say that the hiding-place had not seemed safe enough, because
+the stone gave a hollow sound which even the boys would notice if
+anything fell upon it.
+
+But for Nella, it would be safest to give the box into Marietta's
+keeping, since no one could possibly suspect that it could have found
+its way to her room. At the mere thought, his heart beat fast. It would
+be a reason for seeing her alone, if he could, and for talking with her.
+He planned how he would send her a message by Nella, begging that he
+might speak to her on some urgent business of her father's, and she
+would come as she had come before; they would talk in the garden, under
+the plane-tree, where Pasquale and Nella could see them, and he would
+explain what he wanted. Then he would give her the box. He thought of it
+with calm delight, as he saw it all in a beautiful vision.
+
+But there was Nella, and there was Pasquale, the former indiscreet, the
+latter silent but keen-sighted, and quick-witted in spite of his slow
+and surly ways. Every one knew that the book existed somewhere, and the
+porter and the serving-woman would guess the truth at once. At present
+no one but himself knew positively where the thing was. If he carried
+out his plan, three other persons would possess the knowledge. It was
+not to be thought of.
+
+He looked about the laboratory. There were the beams and crossbeams, and
+the box would probably just fit into one of the shadowy interstices
+between two of the latter. But they were twenty feet from the ground, he
+had no ladder, and if there had been one at hand he could not have
+mounted it yet. His eye fell on the big earthen jar, more than half a
+man's height and as big round as a hogshead, half full of broken glass
+from the experiments. No one would think of it as a place for hiding
+anything, and it would not be emptied till it was quite full, several
+months hence. Besides, no one would dare to empty it without Beroviero's
+orders, as it contained nothing but fine red glass, which was valuable
+and only needed melting to be used at once.
+
+It was not an easy matter to take out half the contents, and he was in
+constant danger of interruption. At night it would have been impossible
+owing to the presence of the boys. If Pasquale appeared and saw a heap
+of broken glass on the floor, he would surely suspect something. Zorzi
+calculated that it would take two hours to remove the fragments with the
+care necessary to avoid cutting his hands badly, and to put them back
+again, for the shape of the jar would not admit of his employing even
+one of the small iron shovels used for filling the crucibles.
+
+With considerable difficulty he moved a large chest, that contained
+sifted white sand, out of the dark corner in which it stood and placed
+it diagonally so as to leave a triangular space behind it. To guard
+against the sound of the broken glass being heard from without, he shut
+the window, in spite of the heat, and having arranged in the corner one
+of the sacks used for bringing the cakes of kelp-ashes from Egypt, he
+began to fill it with the broken glass he brought from the jar in a
+bucket. When he judged that he had taken out more than half the
+contents, he took the iron box from the annealing oven. It was hard to
+carry it under the arm by which he walked with a stick, the other hand
+being necessary to move the crutch, and as he reached the jar he felt
+that it was slipping. He bent forward and it fell with a crash, bedding
+itself in the smashed glass. Zorzi drew a long breath of satisfaction,
+for the hardest part of the work was done.
+
+He tried to heave up the sack from the corner, but it was far too heavy,
+and he was obliged to bring back more than half of what it held by
+bucketfuls, before he was able to bring the rest, dragging it after him
+across the floor. It was finished at last, he had shaken out the sack
+carefully over the jar's mouth, and he had moved the sand-chest back to
+its original position. No one would have imagined that the broken glass
+had been removed and put back again. The box was safely hidden now.
+
+He was utterly exhausted when he dropped into the big chair, after
+washing the dust and blood from his hands--for it had been impossible to
+do what he had done without getting a few scratches, though none of them
+could have been called a cut. He sat quite still and closed his eyes.
+The box was safe now. It was not to be imagined that any one should ever
+suspect where it was, and on that point he was well satisfied. His only
+possible cause of anxiety now might be that if anything should happen to
+him, the master would be in ignorance of what he had done. But he saw no
+reason to expect anything so serious and his mind was at rest about a
+matter which had much disturbed him ever since Giovanni's visit.
+
+The plan which he had attributed to the latter was not, however, the one
+which suggested itself to the younger Beroviero's mind. It would have
+been easy to carry out, and was very simple, and for that very reason
+Giovanni did not think of it. Besides, in his estimation it would be
+better to act in such a way as to get rid of Zorzi for ever, if that
+were possible.
+
+On the Saturday night after Zorzi had hidden the box in the jar, the
+workmen cleared away the litter in the main furnace rooms and the order
+was given to let the fires go out. Zorzi sent word to the night boys who
+tended the fire in the laboratory that they were to come as usual. They
+appeared punctually, and to his surprise made no objection to working,
+though he had expected that they would complain of the heat and allege
+that their fathers would not let them go on any longer. On Sunday,
+according to the old rule of the house, no work was done, and Zorzi kept
+up the fire himself, spending most of the long day in the garden. On
+Sunday night the boys came again and went to work without a word, and in
+the morning they left the usual supply of chopped billets piled up and
+ready for use. Zorzi had rested himself thoroughly and went back to his
+experiments on that Monday with fresh energy.
+
+The very first test he took of the glass that had been fusing since
+Saturday night was successful beyond his highest expectations. He had
+grown reckless after having spoiled the original mixtures by adding the
+copper in the hope of getting more of the wonderful red, and carried
+away by the love of the art and by the certainty of ultimate success
+which every man of genius feels almost from boyhood, he had deliberately
+attempted to produce the white glass for which Beroviero was famous. He
+followed a theory of his own in doing so, for although he was tolerably
+sure of the nature of the ingredients, as was every workman in the
+house, neither he nor they knew anything of the proportions in which
+Beroviero mixed the substances, and every glass-maker knows by
+experience that those proportions constitute by far the most important
+element of success.
+
+Zorzi had not poured out the specimen on the table as he had done when
+the glass was coloured; on the contrary he had taken some on the
+blow-pipe and had begun to work with it at once, for the three great
+requisites were transparency, ductility, and lightness. In a few minutes
+he had convinced himself that his glass possessed all these qualities in
+an even higher degree than the master's own, and that was immeasurably
+superior to anything which the latter's own sons or any other
+glass-maker could produce. Zorzi had taken very little at first, and he
+made of it a thin phial of graceful shape, turned the mouth outward, and
+dropped the little vessel into the bed of ashes. He would have set it in
+the annealing oven, but he wished to try the weight of it, and he let it
+cool. Taking it up when he could touch it safely, it felt in his hand
+like a thing of air. On the shelf was another nearly like it in size,
+which he had made long ago with Beroviero's glass. There were scales on
+the table; he laid one phial in each, and the old one was by far the
+heavier. He had to put a number of pennyweights into the scale with his
+own before the two were balanced.
+
+His heart almost stood still, and he could not believe his good fortune.
+He took the sheet of rough paper on which he had written down the
+precise contents of the three crucibles, and he carefully went over the
+proportions of the ingredients in the one from which he had just taken
+his specimen. He made a strong effort of memory, trying to recall
+whether he had been careless and inexact in weighing any of the
+materials, but he knew that he had been most precise. He had also noted
+the hour at which he had put the mixture into the crucible on Saturday,
+and he now glanced at the sand-glass and made another note. But he did
+not lay the paper upon the table, where it had been lying for two days,
+kept in place by a little glass weight. It had become his most precious
+possession; what was written on it meant a fortune as soon as he could
+get a furnace to himself; it was his own, and not the master's; it was
+wealth, it might even be fame. Beroviero might call him to account for
+misusing the furnace, but that was no capital offence after all, and it
+was more than paid for by the single crucible of magnificent red glass.
+Zorzi was attempting to reproduce that too, for he had the master's
+notes of what the pot had contained, and it was almost ready to be
+tried; he even had the piece of copper carefully weighed to be equal in
+bulk with the ladle that had been melted. If he succeeded there also,
+that was a new secret for Beroviero, but the other was for himself.
+
+All that morning he revelled in the delight of working with the new
+glass. A marvellous dish with upturned edge and ornamented foot was the
+next thing he made, and he placed it at once in the annealing oven. Then
+he made a tall drinking glass such as he had never made before, and
+then, in contrast, a tiny ampulla, so small that he could almost hide it
+in his hand, with its spout, yet decorated with all the perfection of a
+larger piece. He worked on, careless of the time, his genius all alive,
+the rest a distant dream.
+
+He was putting the finishing touches to a beaker of a new shape when
+the door opened, and Giovanni entered the laboratory. Zorzi was seated
+on the working stool, the pontil in one hand, the 'porcello' in the
+other. He glanced at Giovanni absently and went on, for it was the last
+touch and the glass was cooling quickly.
+
+"Still working, in this heat?" asked Giovanni, fanning himself with his
+cap as was his custom.
+
+There was a moment's silence. Then a sharp clicking sound and the beaker
+fell finished into the soft ashes.
+
+"Yes, I am still at work, as you see," answered Zorzi, not realising
+that Giovanni would particularly notice what he was doing.
+
+He rose with some difficulty and got his crutch under one arm. With a
+forked stick he took the beaker from the ashes and placed it in the
+annealing oven. Giovanni watched him, and when the broad iron door was
+open, he saw the other pieces already standing inside on the iron tray.
+
+"Admirable!" cried Giovanni. "You are a great artist, my dear Zorzi!
+There is no one like you!"
+
+"I do what I can," answered Zorzi, closing the door quickly, lest the
+hot end of the oven should cool at all.
+
+"I should say that you do what no one else can," returned Giovanni. "But
+how lame you are! I had expected to find you walking as well as ever by
+this time."
+
+"I shall never walk again without limping."
+
+"Oh, take courage!" said Giovanni, who seemed determined to be both
+cheerful and flattering. "You will soon be as light on your feet as
+ever. But it was a shocking accident."
+
+He sat down in the big chair and Zorzi took the small one by the table,
+wishing that he would go away.
+
+"It is a pity that you had no white glass in the furnace on that
+particular day," Giovanni continued. "You said you had none, if I
+remember. How is it that you have it now? Have you changed one of the
+crucibles?"
+
+"Yes. One of the experiments succeeded so well that it seemed better to
+take out all the glass."
+
+"May I see a piece of it?" inquired Giovanni, as if he were asking a
+great favour.
+
+It was one thing to let him test the glass himself, it was quite another
+to show him a piece of it. He would see it sooner or later, and he could
+guess nothing of its composition.
+
+"The specimen is there, on the table," Zorzi answered.
+
+Giovanni rose at once and took the piece from the paper on which it lay,
+and held it up against the light. He was amazed at the richness of the
+colour, and gave vent to all sorts of exclamations.
+
+"Did you make this?" he asked at last.
+
+"It is the result of the master's experiments."
+
+"It is marvellous! He has made another fortune."
+
+Giovanni replaced the specimen where it had lain, and as he did so, his
+eye fell on the phial Zorzi had made that morning. Zorzi had not put it
+into the annealing oven because it had been allowed to get quite cold,
+so that the annealing would have been imperfect. Giovanni took it up,
+and uttered a low exclamation of surprise at its lightness. He held it
+up and looked through it, and then he took it by the neck and tapped it
+sharply with his finger-nail.
+
+"Take care," said Zorzi; "it is not annealed. It may fly."
+
+"Oh!" exclaimed Giovanni. "Have you just made it?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"It is the finest glass I ever saw. It is much better than what they had
+in the main furnaces the day you were hurt. Did you not find it so
+yourself, in working with it?"
+
+Zorzi began to feel anxious as to the result of so much questioning.
+Whatever happened he must hide from Giovanni the fact that he had
+discovered a new glass of his own.
+
+"Yes," he answered, with affected indifference. "I thought it was
+unusually good. I daresay there may be some slight difference in the
+proportions."
+
+"Do you mean to say that my father does not follow any exact rule?"
+
+"Oh yes. But he is always making experiments."
+
+"He mixes all the materials for the main furnaces himself, does he not?"
+inquired Giovanni.
+
+"Yes. He does it alone, in the room that is kept locked. When he has
+finished, the men come and carry out the barrows. The materials are
+stirred and mixed together outside."
+
+"Yes. I do it in the same way myself. Have you ever helped my father in
+that work?"
+
+"No, certainly not. If I had helped him once, I should know the secret."
+Zorzi smiled.
+
+"But if you do not know the secret," said Giovanni unexpectedly, "how
+did you make this glass?"
+
+He held up the phial.
+
+"Why do you suppose that I made it?" Zorzi felt himself growing pale.
+"The master has supplies of everything here in the laboratory and in the
+little room where I sleep."
+
+"Is there white glass here too?"
+
+"Of course!" answered Zorzi readily. "There is half a jar of it in my
+room. We keep it there so that the night boys may not steal it a little
+at a time."
+
+"I see," answered Giovanni. "That is very sensible."
+
+He was firmly convinced that if he asked Zorzi any more direct question,
+the answer would be a falsehood, and he applauded himself for stopping
+at the point he had reached in his inquiries. For he was an experienced
+glass-maker and was perfectly sure that the phial was not made from
+Beroviero's ordinary glass. It followed that Zorzi had used the precious
+book, and Giovanni inferred that the rest was a lucky accident.
+
+"Will you sell me one of those beautiful things you have in the oven?"
+Giovanni asked, in an insinuating tone.
+
+Zorzi hesitated. The master had often paid him a fair price for objects
+he had made, and which were used in Beroviero's house, as has been told.
+Zorzi did not wish to irritate Giovanni by refusing, and after all,
+there was no great difference between being paid by old Beroviero or by
+his son. The fact that he worked in glass, which had been an open secret
+among the workmen for a long time, was now no secret at all. The
+question was rather as to his right, being Beroviero's trusted
+assistant, to sell anything out of the house.
+
+"Will you?" asked Giovanni, after waiting a few moments for an answer.
+
+"I would rather wait until the master comes back," said Zorzi
+doubtfully. "I am not quite sure about it."
+
+"I will take all the responsibility," Giovanni answered cheerfully. "Am
+I not free to come to my father's glass-house and buy a beaker or a dish
+for myself, if I please? Of course I am. But there is no real difference
+between buying from you, on one side of the garden, or from the furnace
+on the other. Is there?"
+
+"The difference is that in the one case you buy from the master and pay
+him, but now you are offering to pay me, who am already well paid by him
+for any work I may do."
+
+"You are very scrupulous," said Giovanni in a disappointed tone. "Tell
+me, does my father never give you anything for the things you make, and
+which you say are in the house?"
+
+"Oh yes," answered Zorzi promptly. "He always pays me for them."
+
+"But that shows that he does not consider them as part of the work you
+are regularly paid to do, does it not?"
+
+"I suppose so," Zorzi said, turning over the question in his mind.
+
+Giovanni took a small piece of gold from the purse he carried at his
+belt, and he laid it on the flat arm of the chair beside him, and put
+down one of his crooked forefingers upon it.
+
+"I cannot see what objection you can have, in that case. You know very
+well that young painters who work for masters help them, but are always
+allowed to sell anything they can paint in their leisure time."
+
+"Yes. That is true. I will take the money, sir, and you may choose any
+of the pieces you like. When the master comes, I will tell him, and if I
+have no right to the price he shall keep it himself."
+
+"Do you really suppose that my father would be mean enough to take the
+money?" asked Giovanni, who would certainly have taken it himself under
+the circumstances.
+
+"No. He is very generous. Nevertheless, I shall certainly tell him the
+whole story."
+
+"That is your affair. I have nothing to say about it. Here is the money,
+for which I will take the beaker I saw you finishing when I came in. Is
+it enough? Is it a fair price?"
+
+"It is a very good price," Zorzi answered. "But there may be a piece
+among those in the oven which you will like better. Will you not come
+to-morrow, when they are all annealed, and make your choice?"
+
+"No. I have fallen in love with the piece I saw you making."
+
+"Very well. You shall have it, and many thanks."
+
+"Here is the money, and thanks to you," said Giovanni, holding out the
+little piece of gold.
+
+"You shall pay me when you take the beaker," objected Zorzi. "It may
+fly, or turn out badly."
+
+"No, no!" answered Giovanni, rising, and putting the money into Zorzi's
+hand. "If anything happens to it, I will take another. I am afraid that
+you may change your mind, you see, and I am very anxious to have such a
+beautiful thing."
+
+He laughed cheerfully, nodded to Zorzi and went out at once, almost
+before the latter had time to rise from his seat and get his crutch
+under his arm.
+
+When he was alone, Zorzi looked at the coin and laid it on the table. He
+was much puzzled by Giovanni's conduct, but at the same time his
+artist's vanity was flattered by what had happened. Giovanni's
+admiration of the glass was genuine; there could be no doubt of that,
+and he was a good judge. As for the work, Zorzi knew quite well that
+there was not a glass-blower in Murano who could approach him either in
+taste or skill. Old Beroviero had told him so within the last few
+months, and he felt that it was true.
+
+He would have been neither a natural man nor a born artist if he had
+refused to sell the beaker, out of an exaggerated scruple. But the
+transaction had shown him that his only chance of success for the future
+lay in frankly telling old Beroviero what he had done in his absence,
+while reserving his secret for himself. The master was proud of him as
+his pupil, and sincerely attached to him as a man, and would certainly
+not try to force him into explaining how the glass was made. Besides,
+the glass itself was there, easily distinguished from any other, and
+Zorzi could neither hide it nor throw it away.
+
+Giovanni went out upon the footway, and as he passed, Pasquale thought
+he had never seen him so cheerful. The sour look had gone out of his
+face, and he was actually smiling to himself. With such a man it would
+hardly have been possible to attribute his pleased expression to the
+satisfaction he felt in having bought Zorzi's beaker. He had never
+before, in his whole life, parted with a piece of gold without a little
+pang of regret; but he had felt the most keen and genuine pleasure just
+now, when Zorzi had at last accepted the coin.
+
+Pasquale watched him cross the wooden bridge and go into his father's
+house opposite. Then the old porter shut the door and went back to the
+laboratory, walking slowly with his ugly head bent a little, as if in
+deep thought. Zorzi had already resumed his occupation and had a lump of
+hot glass swinging on his blow-pipe, his crutch being under his right
+arm.
+
+"Half a rainbow to windward," observed the old sailor. "There will be a
+squall before long."
+
+"What do you mean?" asked Zorzi.
+
+"If you had seen the Signor Giovanni smile, as he went out, you would
+know what I mean," answered Pasquale. "In our seas, when we see the
+stump of a rainbow low down in the clouds, we say it is the eye of the
+wind, looking out for us, and I can tell you that the wind is never long
+in coming!"
+
+"Did you say anything to make him smile?" asked Zorzi, going on with his
+work.
+
+"I am not a mountebank," growled the porter. "I am not a strolling
+player at the door of his booth at a fair, cracking jokes with those who
+pass! But perhaps it was you who said something amusing to him, just
+before he left? Who knows? I always took you for a grave young man. It
+seems that I was mistaken. You make jokes. You cause a serious person
+like the Signor Giovanni to die of laughing."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+Giovanni sat in his father's own room at home, with shut doors, and he
+was writing. He had received as good an education as any young nobleman
+or rich merchant's son in Venice, but writing was always irksome to him,
+and he generally employed a scribe rather than take the pen himself.
+To-day he preferred to dispense with help, instead of trusting the
+discretion of a secretary; and this is what he was setting down.
+
+"I, Giovanni Beroviero, the son of Angelo, of Murano, the glass-maker,
+being in my father's absence and in his stead the Master of our
+honourable Guild of Glass-makers, do entreat your Magnificence to
+interfere and act for the preservation of our ancient rights and
+privileges and for the maintenance of the just laws of Venice, and for
+the honour of the Republic, and for the public good of Murano. There is
+a certain Zorzi, called the Ballarin, who was a servant of the aforesaid
+Angelo Beroviero, a Dalmatian and a foreigner and a fellow of no worth,
+who formerly swept the floor of the said Angelo's furnace room, which
+the said Angelo keeps for his private use. This fellow therefore, this
+foreigner, the said Angelo being absent on a long journey, was left by
+him to watch the fire in the said room, there being certain new glass
+in the crucibles of the said furnace, which the said Zorzi, called the
+Ballarin, was to keep hot a certain number of days. And now in the
+torrid heat of summer, the canicular days being at hand, the furnaces in
+the glass-house of the said Angelo have been extinguished. But this
+Zorzi, called the Ballarin, although he has removed from the furnace of
+the said Angelo the glass which was to be kept hot, does insolently and
+defiantly refuse to put out the fire in the said furnace, and forces the
+boys to make the fire all night, to the great injury of their health,
+because the canicular days are approaching. But the said Zorzi, called
+the Ballarin, like a raging devil come upon earth from his master Satan,
+heeds no heat. And he has no respect of laws, nor of persons, nor of the
+honourable Guild, nor of the Republic, working day and night at the
+glass-blower's art, just as if he were not a Dalmatian, and a foreigner,
+and a low fellow of no worth. Moreover, he has made glass himself, which
+it is forbidden for any foreigner to make throughout the dominions of
+the Republic. Moreover, it is a good white glass, which he could not
+have made if he had not wickedly, secretly and feloniously stolen a book
+which is the property of the aforesaid Angelo, and which contains many
+things concerning the making of glass. Moreover, this Zorzi, called the
+Ballarin, is a liar, a thief and an assassin, for of the good white
+glass which he has melted by means of the said Angelo's secrets, he
+makes vessels, such as phials, ampullas and dishes, which it is not
+lawful for any foreigner to make. Moreover, in the vile wickedness of
+his shameless heart, the said Zorzi, called the Ballarin, has the
+presumption and effrontery to sell the said vessels, openly admitting
+that he has made them. And they are well made, with diabolical skill,
+and the sale of the said vessels is a great injury to the glass-blowers
+of Murano, and to the honourable Guild, besides being an affront to the
+Republic. I, the aforesaid Giovanni, was indeed unable to believe that
+such monstrous wickedness could exist. I therefore went into the furnace
+room myself, and there I found the said Zorzi, called the Ballarin,
+working alone and making a certain piece in the form of a beaker. And
+though he knows me, that I am the son of his master, he is so lost to
+all shame, that he continued to work before me, as if he were a
+glass-blower, and though I fanned myself in order not to die of heat, he
+worked before the fire, and felt nothing, raging like a devil. I
+therefore offered to buy the beaker he was making and I put down a piece
+of money, and the said Zorzi, called the Ballarin, a liar, a thief and
+an assassin, took the said piece of money, and set the said beaker
+within the annealing oven of the said furnace, wherein I saw many other
+pieces of fine workmanship, and he said that I should have the said
+beaker when it was annealed. Wherefore I, being for the time the Master
+of the honourable Guild in the stead of the said Angelo, entreat your
+Magnificence on behalf of the said Guild to interfere and act for the
+preservation of our ancient rights and privileges, and for the honour of
+the Republic. Moreover, I entreat your Magnificence to send a force by
+night, in order that there may be no scandal, to take the said Zorzi,
+called the Ballarin, and to bind him, and carry him to Venice, that he
+may be tried for his monstrous crimes, and be questioned, even with
+torture, as to others which he has certainly committed, and be exiled
+from all the dominions of the Republic for ever on pain of being hanged,
+that in this way our laws may be maintained and our privileges
+preserved. Moreover, I will give any further information of the same
+kind which your Magnificence may desire. At Murano, in the house of
+Angelo Beroviero, my father, this third day of July, in the year of the
+Salvation of the World fourteen hundred and seventy, Giovanni Beroviero,
+the glass-maker."
+
+Giovanni had taken a long time in the composition of this remarkable
+document. He sat in his linen shirt and black hose, but he had paused
+often to fan himself with a sheet of paper, and to wipe the perspiration
+from his forehead, for although he was a lean man he suffered much from
+the heat, owing to a weakness of his heart.
+
+He folded the two sheets of his letter and tied them with a silk string,
+of which he squeezed the knot into pasty red wax, which he worked with
+his fingers, and upon this he pressed the iron seal of the guild, using
+both his hands and standing up in order to add his weight to the
+pressure. The missive was destined for the Podestà of Murano, which is
+to say, for the Governor, who was a patrician of Venice and a most high
+and mighty personage. Giovanni did not mean to trust to any messenger.
+That very afternoon, when he had slept after dinner, and the sun was
+low, he would have himself rowed to the Governor's house, and he would
+deliver the letter himself, or if possible he would see the dignitary
+and explain even more fully that Zorzi, called the Ballarin, was a liar,
+a thief and an assassin. He felt a good deal of pride in what he had
+written so carefully, and he was sure that his case was strong. In
+another day or two, Zorzi would be gone for ever from Murano, Giovanni
+would have the precious manuscript in his possession, and when old
+Beroviero returned Giovanni would use the book as a weapon against his
+father, who would be furiously angry to find his favourite assistant
+gone. It was all very well planned, he thought, and was sure to succeed.
+He would even take possession of the beautiful red glass, and of the
+still more wonderful white glass which Zorzi had made for himself. By
+the help of the book, he should soon be able to produce the same in his
+own furnaces. The vision of a golden future opened before him. He would
+outdo all the other glass-makers in every market, from Paris to Palermo,
+from distant England to Egyptian Alexandria, wheresoever the vast trade
+of Venice carried those huge bales of delicate glass, carefully packed
+in the dried seaweed of the lagoons. Gold would follow gold, and his
+wealth would increase, till it became greater than that of any patrician
+in Venice. Who could tell but that, in time, the great exception might
+be made for him, and he might be admitted to sit in the Grand Council,
+he and his heirs for ever, just as if he had been born a real patrician
+and not merely a member of the half-noble caste of glass-blowers? Such
+things were surely possible.
+
+In the cooler hours of the afternoon he got into his father's gondola,
+for he was far too economical to keep one of his own, and he had himself
+rowed to the house of the Governor, on the Grand Canal of Murano. But at
+the door he was told that the official was in Venice and would not
+return till the following day. The liveried porter was not sure where he
+might be found, but he often went to the palace of the Contarini, who
+were his near relations. The Signor Giovanni, to whom the porter was
+monstrously civil, might give himself the fatigue of being taken there
+in his gondola. In any case it would be easy to find the Governor. He
+would perhaps be on the Grand Canal in Venice at the hour when all the
+patricians were taking the air. It was very probable indeed.
+
+The porter bowed low as the gondola pushed off, and Giovanni leaned back
+in the comfortable seat, to repeat again and again in his mind what he
+meant to say if he succeeded in speaking with the Governor. He had his
+letter of complaint safe in his wallet, and he could remember every word
+he had written. In order to go to Venice, the nearest way was to return
+from the Grand Canal of Murano by the canal of San Piero, and to pass
+the glass-house. The door was shut as usual, and Giovanni smiled as he
+thought of how the city archers would go in, perhaps that very night,
+to take Zorzi away. He would not be with them, but when they were gone,
+he would go and find the book under one of the stones. When he had got
+it, his father might come home, for all Giovanni cared.
+
+Before long the gondola was winding its way through the narrow canals,
+now shooting swiftly along a short straight stretch, between a monastery
+and a palace, now brought to by a turn of the hand at a corner, as the
+man at the oar shouted out a direction meant for whoever might be
+coming, by the right or left, as one should say "starboard helm" or
+"port helm," and both doing the same, two vessels pass clear of one
+another; and to this day the gondoliers of Venice use the old words, and
+tell long-winded stories of their derivation and first meaning, which
+seem quite unnecessary. But in Beroviero's time, the gondola had only
+lately come into fashion, and every one adopted it quickly because it
+was much cheaper than keeping horses, and it was far more pleasant to be
+taken quickly by water, by shorter ways, than to ride in the narrow
+streets, in the mud in winter and in the dust in summer, jostling those
+who walked, and sometimes quarrelling with those who rode, because the
+way was too narrow for one horse to pass another, when both had riders
+on their backs. Moreover, it was law that after nine o'clock in the
+morning no man who had reached the fig-tree that grew in the open space
+before San Salvatore, should ride to Saint Mark's by the Merceria, so
+that people had to walk the rest of the way, leaving their horses to
+grooms. The gondola was therefore a great convenience, besides being a
+notable economy, and old Francesco Sansovino says that in his day, which
+was within a lifetime of Angelo Beroviero's, there were nine or ten
+thousand gondolas in Venice. But at first they had not the high peaked
+stem of iron, and stem and stern were made almost alike, as in the
+Venetian boats and skiffs of our own time.
+
+Giovanni got out at the steps of the Contarini palace, which, of the
+many that even then belonged to different branches of that great house,
+was distinguished above all others by its marvellous outer winding
+staircase, which still stands in all its beauty and slender grace. But
+near the great palace there were little wooden houses of two stories,
+some new and straight and gaily painted, but some old and crooked,
+hanging over the canals so that they seemed ready to topple down, with
+crazy outer balconies half closed in by lattices behind which the women
+sat for coolness, and sometimes even slept in the hot months. For the
+great city of stone and brick was not half built yet, and the space
+before Saint Mark's was much larger than it is now, for the Procuratie
+did not yet exist, nor the clock, but the great bell-tower stood almost
+in the middle of an open square, and there were little wooden booths at
+its base, in which all sorts of cheap trinkets were sold. There were
+also such booths and small shops at the base of the two columns. Also,
+the bridge of Rialto was a broad bridge of boats, on which shops were
+built on each side of the way, and the middle of the bridge could be
+drawn out, for the great Bucentoro to pass through, when the Doge went
+out in state to wed the sea.
+
+Giovanni Beroviero was well known to Contarini's household, for all knew
+of the approaching marriage, and the servants were not surprised when he
+inquired for the Governor of Murano, saying that his business was
+urgent. But the Governor was not there, nor the master of the house.
+They were gone to the Grand Canal. Would the Signor Giovanni like to
+speak with Messer Jacopo, who chanced to be in the palace and alone? It
+was still early, and Giovanni thought that the opportunity was a good
+one for ingratiating himself with his future brother-in-law. He would go
+in, if he should not disturb Messer Jacopo. He was announced and ushered
+respectfully into the great hall, and thence up the broad staircase to
+the hall of reception above. And below, his gondoliers gossiped with the
+servants, talking about the coming marriage, and many indiscreet things
+were said, which it was better that their masters should not hear; as
+for instance that Jacopo was really living in the house of the Agnus
+Dei, where he kept a beautiful Georgian slave in unheard-of luxury, and
+that this was a great grief to his father, who was therefore very
+desirous of hastening the marriage with Marietta. The porter winked one
+eye solemnly at the head gondolier, as who should imply that the
+establishment at the Agnus Dei would not be given up for twenty
+marriages; but the gondolier said boldly that if Jacopo did not change
+his life after he had married Marietta, something would happen to him.
+Upon this the porter inquired superciliously what, in the name of a
+great many beings, celestial and infernal, could possibly happen to any
+Contarini who chose to do as he pleased. The gondolier answered that
+there were laws, the porter retorted that the laws were made for
+glass-blowers but not for patricians, and the two might have come to
+blows if they had not just then heard their masters' voices from the
+landing of the great staircase; and of coarse it was far more important
+to overhear all they could of the conversation than to quarrel about a
+point of law.
+
+Giovanni was too full of his plan for Zorzi's destruction to resist the
+temptation of laying the whole case before Contarini, who was so soon to
+be a member of the family, and as Jacopo, who was himself going out,
+accompanied his guest downstairs, Giovanni continued to talk of the
+matter earnestly, and Contarini answered him by occasional monosyllables
+and short sentences, much interested by the whole affair, but wishing
+that Giovanni would go away, now that he had told all. He was in
+constant fear lest Zorzi should say something which might betray the
+meetings at the house of the Agnus Dei, and had often regretted that he
+had not been put quietly out of the way, instead of being admitted to
+the society. Now after hearing what Giovanni had to say, he had not the
+slightest doubt but that Zorzi had really broken the laws, and it seemed
+an admirable solution of the whole affair that the Dalmatian should be
+exiled from the Republic for life. That being settled, he wished to get
+rid of his visitor, as Arisa was waiting for him.
+
+"I assure you," Giovanni said, "that this miserable Zorzi is a liar, a
+thief and an assassin."
+
+"Yes," assented Contarini carelessly, "I have no doubt of it."
+
+"The best thing is to arrest him at once, this very night, if possible,
+and have him brought before the Council."
+
+"Yes."
+
+Contarini had agreed with Giovanni on this point already, and made a
+movement to descend, but Giovanni loved to stand still in order to talk,
+and he would not move. Contarini waited for him.
+
+"It is important that some member of the Council should be informed of
+the truth beforehand," he continued. "Will you speak to your father
+about it, Messer Jacopo?"
+
+"Yes," answered Contarini, and he spoke the word intentionally with
+great emphasis, in the hope that Giovanni would be finally satisfied and
+go away.
+
+"You will be conferring a benefit on the city of Murano," said Giovanni
+in a tone of gratitude, and this time he began to come down the steps.
+
+The gondolier had heard every word that had been said, as well as the
+servants in the lower hall; but to them the conversation had no especial
+meaning, as they knew nothing of Zorzi. To the gondolier, on the other
+hand, who was devoted to his master and detested his master's son, it
+meant much, though his stolid, face did not betray the slightest
+intelligence.
+
+Giovanni took leave of Contarini with much ceremony, a little too much,
+Jacopo thought.
+
+"To the Grand Canal," said Giovanni as the gondolier helped him to get
+in, and he backed under the 'felse.' "Try and find the Governor of
+Murano, and if you see him, take me alongside his gondola."
+
+The sun was now low, and as the light craft shot out at last upon the
+Grand Canal, the breeze came up from the land, cool and refreshing.
+Scores of gondolas were moving up and down, some with the black 'felse,'
+some without, and in the latter there were beautiful women, whose
+sun-dyed hair shone resplendent under the thin embroidered veils that
+loosely covered it. They wore silk and satin of rich hues, and jewels,
+and some were clad in well-fitting bodices that were nets of thin gold
+cord drawn close over velvet, with lawn sleeves gathered to the fore-arm
+and the upper-arm by netting of seed pearls. Beside some of them sat
+their husbands or their fathers, in robes and mantles of satin and silk,
+or in wide coats of rich stuff, open at the neck; bearded men,
+straight-featured, and often very pale, wearing great puffed caps set
+far back on their smooth hair, their white hands playing with their
+gloves, their dark eyes searching out from afar the faces of famous
+beauties, or, if they were grey-haired men, fixed thoughtfully before
+them.
+
+Overall the evening light descended like a mist of gold, reflected from
+the sculptured walls of palaces, where marble columns and light
+traceries of stone were dyed red and orange and almost purple by the
+setting sun, and nestling among the carved beams and far-projecting
+balconies of wooden houses that overhung the canal, gilding the water
+itself where the broad-bladed oars struck deep and churned it, and swept
+aft, and steered with a poising, feathering backstroke, or where tiny
+waves were dashed up by a gondola's bright iron stem. Slowly the water
+turned to wine below, the clear outlines of the palaces stood out less
+sharply against the paling sky, the golden cloudlets, floating behind
+the great tower of Saint Mark's presently faded to wreaths of delicate
+mist. The bells rung out from church and monastery, far and near, till
+the air was filled with a deep music, telling all Venice that the day
+was done.
+
+Then the many voices that had echoed in greeting and in laughter, from
+boat to boat, were hushed a moment, and almost every man took off his
+hat or cap, the robed Councillor and the gondolier behind him; and also
+a good number of the great ladies made the sign of the cross and were
+silent a while. It was the hour when Venice puts forth her stealing
+charm, when the terrible distinctness of her splendour grows gentle and
+almost human, and the little mystery of each young life rises from the
+heart to hold converse with the sweet, mysterious all. Through the long
+day the palaces look down consciously at themselves, mirrored in the
+calm water where they stand, and each seems to say "I am finer than
+you," or "My master is still richer than yours," or "You are going to
+ruin faster than I am," or "I was built by a Lombardo," or "I by
+Sansovino," and the violent light is ever there to bear witness of the
+truth of what each says. Within, without, in hall and church and
+gallery, there is perpetual brightness and perpetual silence. But at the
+evening hour, now, as in old times, a spirit takes Venice and folds it
+in loving arms, whispering words that are not even guessed by day.
+
+The Ave Maria had not ceased ringing when Giovanni's gondolier came up
+with the Governor of Murano. He was alone, and at his invitation
+Giovanni left his own craft and sat down beside the patrician, whose
+gondola was uncovered for coolness. Giovanni talked earnestly in low
+tones, holding his sealed letter in his hand, while his own oarsman
+watched him closely in the advancing dusk, but was too wise to try to
+overhear what was said. He knew well enough now what Giovanni wanted of
+the Governor, and what he obtained.
+
+"Not to-night," the Governor said audibly, as Giovanni returned to his
+own gondola. "To-morrow."
+
+Giovanni turned before getting under the 'felse,' bowed low as he stood
+up and said a few words of thanks, which the Governor could hardly have
+heard as his boat shot ahead, though he made one more gracious gesture
+with his hand. The shadows descended quickly now, and everywhere the
+little lights came out, from latticed balconies and palace windows left
+open to let in the cool air, and from the silently gliding gondolas
+that each carried a small lamp; and here and there between tall houses
+the young summer moon fell across the black water, rippling under the
+freshening breeze, and it was like a shower of silver falling into a
+widow's lap.
+
+But Giovanni saw none of these things, and if he had looked out of the
+small windows of the 'felse,' he would not have cared to see them, for
+beauty did not appeal to him in nature any more than in art, except that
+in the latter it was a cause of value in things. Besides, as he suffered
+from the heat all day, he was afraid of being chilled at evening; so he
+sat inside the 'felse,' gloating over the success of his trip. The
+Governor, who knew nothing of Zorzi but was well aware of Giovanni's
+importance in Murano, had readily consented to arrest the poor Dalmatian
+who was represented as such a dangerous person, besides being a liar and
+other things, and Giovanni had particularly requested that the force
+sent should be sufficient to overpower the "raging devil" at once and
+without scandal. He judged that ten men would suffice for this, he said.
+The fact was that he feared some resistance on the part of Pasquale,
+whom he knew to be a friend to Zorzi. He had carefully abstained from
+alluding to Zorzi's lameness, lest the mere mention of it should excite
+some compassion in his hearer. He had in fact done everything to assure
+the success of his scheme, except the one thing which was the most
+necessary of all. He had allowed himself to speak of it in the hearing
+of the gondolier who hated him, and who lost no time in making use of
+the information.
+
+It was nearly supper-time when he deposited Giovanni at the steps of the
+house and took the gondola round to the narrow canal in which the boats
+lay, and which was under Nella's window. The shutters were wide open,
+and there was a light within. He called the serving-woman by name, and
+she looked out, and asked what he wanted. Then, as now, gondoliers
+worked indoors like the servants when not busy with the boats, and slept
+in the house. The man was on friendly terms with Nella, who liked him
+because he thought her mistress the most perfect creature in the world.
+
+"I have ripped the arm of my doublet," he said. "Can you mend it for me
+this evening?"
+
+"Bring it up to me now," answered Nella. "There is time before supper.
+You can wait outside my room while I do it. My mistress is already gone
+downstairs."
+
+"You are an angel," observed the gondolier from below. "The only thing
+you need is a husband."
+
+"You have guessed wrong," answered Nella with a little laugh. "That is
+the only thing I do not need."
+
+She disappeared, and the gondolier went round by the back of the house
+to the side door, in order to go upstairs. In a quarter of an hour,
+while she stood in her doorway, and he in the passage without, he had
+told her all he knew of Giovanni's evil intentions against Zorzi,
+including the few words which the Governor had spoken audibly. The torn
+sleeve was an invention.
+
+Giovanni was visibly elated at supper, a circumstance which pleased his
+wife but inspired Marietta with some distrust. She had never felt any
+sympathy for the brother who was so much older than herself, and who
+took a view of things which seemed to her sordid, and she did not like
+to see him sitting in her father's place, often talking of the house as
+if it were already his, and dictating to her upon matters of conduct as
+well as upon questions of taste. Everything he said jarred on her, but
+as yet she had no idea that he had any plans against Zorzi, and being of
+a reserved character she often took no trouble to answer what he said,
+except to bend her head a little to acknowledge that he had said it.
+When she was alone with her father, she loved to sit with him after
+supper in the big room, working by the clear light of the olive oil
+lamp, while he sat in his great chair and talked to her of his work. He
+had told her far more than he realised of his secret processes as well
+as of his experiments, and she had remembered it, for she alone of his
+children had inherited his true love and understanding of the noble art
+of glass-making.
+
+But now that he was away, Giovanni generally spent the evening in
+instructing his wife how to save money, and she listened meekly enough
+to what he told her, for she was a modest little woman, of colourless
+character, brought up to have no great opinion of herself, though her
+father was a rich merchant; and she looked upon her husband as belonging
+to a superior class. Marietta found the conversation intolerable and
+she generally left the couple together a quarter of an hour after
+supper was over and went to her own room, where she worked a little and
+listened to Nella's prattle, and sometimes answered her. She was living
+in a state of half-suspended thought, and was glad to let the time pass
+as it would, provided it passed at all.
+
+This evening, as usual, she bade her brother and his wife good night,
+and went upstairs. Nella had learned to expect her and was waiting for
+her. To her surprise, Nella shut the window as soon as she entered.
+
+"Leave it open," she said. "It is hot this evening. Why did you shut it?
+You never do."
+
+"A window is an ear," answered Nella mysteriously. "The nights are still
+and voices carry far."
+
+"What great secret are you going to talk of?" inquired Marietta, with a
+careless smile, as she drew the long pins from her hair and let the
+heavy braids fall behind her.
+
+"Bad news, bad news!" Nella repeated. "The young master is doing things
+which he ought not to do, because they are very unjust and spiteful. I
+am only a poor serving-woman, but I would bite off my fingers, like
+this"--and she bit them sharply and shook them--"before I would let them
+do such things!"
+
+"What do you mean, Nella?" asked Marietta. "You must not speak of my
+brother in that way."
+
+"Your brother! Eh, your brother!" cried Nella in a low and angry voice,
+quite unlike her own. "Do you know what your brother has done? He has
+been to Messer Jacopo Contarini, your betrothed husband, and he has
+told him that Zorzi is a liar, a thief and an assassin, and that he will
+have him arrested to-night, if he can, and Messer Jacopo promised that
+his father, who is of the Council, shall have Zorzi condemned! And your
+brother has seen the Governor of Murano in Venice, and has given him a
+great letter, and the Governor said that it should not be to-night, but
+to-morrow. That is the sort of man your brother is."
+
+Marietta was standing. She had turned slowly pale while Nella was
+speaking, and grasped the back of a chair with both hands. She thought
+she was going to faint.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+Marrietta's heart stood still, as she bent over the back of the chair
+holding it with both her hands, but feeling that she was falling. She
+had expected anything but this, when Nella had begun to speak. The blow
+was sudden and heavy, and she herself had never known how much she could
+be hurt, until that moment.
+
+Nella looked at her in astonishment. The serving-woman had changed her
+mind about Zorzi of late, and had grown fond of him in taking care of
+him. But her anger against Giovanni was roused rather because what he
+was about to do was an affront to his father, her master, than out of
+mere sympathy for the intended victim. She was far from understanding
+what could have so deeply moved Marietta.
+
+"You see," she said triumphantly, "what sort of a brother you have!"
+
+The sound of her voice recalled the young girl just when she felt that
+she was losing consciousness. Her first instinct was to go to Zorzi and
+warn him. He must escape at once. The Governor had said that it should
+be to-morrow, but he might change his mind and send his men to-night.
+There was no time to be lost, she must go instantly. As she stood
+upright she could see the porter's light shining through the small
+grated window, for Pasquale was still awake, but in a few minutes the
+light would go out. She had often been at her own window at that hour,
+and had watched it, wondering whether Zorzi would work far into the
+night, and whether he was thinking of her.
+
+It would be easy to slip out by the side door and run across. No one
+would know, except Nella and Pasquale, but she would have preferred that
+only the latter should be in the secret. She was still dressed, though
+her hair was undone, and the hood of a thin silk mantle would hide that.
+Her mind reasoned by instantaneous flashes now, and she had full control
+of herself again. She would tell Nella that she was going downstairs
+again for a little while, and she would also tell her to make an
+infusion of lime flowers and to bring it in half an hour and wait for
+her. Down the main staircase to the landing, down the narrow stairs in
+the dark, out into the street--it would not take long, and she would tap
+very softly at the door of the glass-house.
+
+When she said that she would go down again, Nella suspected nothing. On
+the contrary she thought her mistress was wise.
+
+"You will lead on the Signor Giovanni to talk of Zorzi," she said. "You
+will learn something."
+
+"And make me a drink of lime flowers," continued Marietta. "The
+housekeeper has plenty."
+
+"I know, I know," answered Nella. "Shall you come up again soon?"
+
+"Be here in half an hour with the drink, and wait for me. You had
+better go for the lime flowers before the housekeeper is asleep. I will
+twist my hair up again before I go down."
+
+Nella nodded and disappeared, for the housekeeper generally went to bed
+very early. As soon as she was out of the room Marietta took her silk
+cloak and wrapped herself in it, drawing the end over her head, so as to
+hide her hair and shade her face. She was pale still, but her lips were
+tightly closed and her eyelids a little drawn together, as she left the
+room. She met no one on the stairs. In the dark, when she reached the
+door, she could feel the oak bar that was set across it at night, and
+she slipped it back into its hole in the wall, without making much
+noise. She lifted the latch and went out.
+
+The night was still and clear, and the young moon was setting. If any
+one had been looking out she must have been seen as she crossed the
+wooden bridge, and she glanced nervously back at the open windows. There
+were lights in the big room, and she heard Giovanni's monotonous voice,
+as he talked to his wife. But there was shadow under the glass-house,
+and a moment later she was tapping softly at the door. Pasquale looked
+down from the grating, and was about to say something uncomplimentary
+when he recognised her, for he could see very well when there was little
+light, like most sailors. He opened the door at once, and stood aside to
+let Marietta enter.
+
+"Shut the door quickly," she whispered, "and do not open it for anybody,
+till I come out."
+
+Pasquale obeyed in silence. He knew as well as she did that Giovanni was
+sitting in the big room, with open windows, within easy hearing of
+ordinary sounds. A feeble light came through the open door of the
+porter's lodge.
+
+"Is Zorzi awake?" Marietta asked in a low tone, when both had gone a few
+steps down the corridor.
+
+"Yes. He will sleep little to-night, for the boys have not come, and he
+must tend the fire himself."
+
+Marietta guessed that her brother had given the order, so that Zorzi
+might be left quite alone.
+
+"Pasquale," she said, "I can trust you, I am sure. You are a good friend
+to Zorzi."
+
+The porter growled something incoherent, but she understood what he
+meant.
+
+"Yes," she continued, "I trust you, and you must trust me. It is
+absolutely necessary that I should speak with Zorzi alone to-night. No
+one knows that I have left the house, and no one must know that I have
+been here."
+
+The old sailor had seen much in his day, but he was profoundly
+astonished at Marietta's audacity.
+
+"You are the mistress," he said in a grave and quiet voice that Marietta
+had never heard before. "But I am an old man, and I cannot help telling
+you that it is not seemly for a young girl to be alone at night with a
+young man, in the place where he lives. You will forgive me for saying
+so, because I have served your father a long time."
+
+"You are quite right," answered Marietta. "But in matters of life and
+death there is nothing seemly or unseemly. I have not time to explain
+all this. Zorzi is in great danger. For my father's sake I must warn
+him, and I cannot stay out long. Not even Nella must know that I am
+here. Be ready to let me out."
+
+She almost ran down the corridor to the garden. The moon was already too
+low to shine upon the walk, but the beams silvered the higher leaves of
+the plane-tree, and all was clear and distinct. Even in her haste, she
+glanced at the place where she had so often sat, before her life had
+began to change.
+
+There was a strong light in the laboratory and the window was open. She
+looked in and saw Zorzi sitting in the great chair, his head leaning
+back and his eyes closed. He was so pale and worn that, she felt a sharp
+pain as her eyes fell on his face. His crutch was beside him, and he
+seemed to be asleep. It was a pity to wake him, she thought, yet she
+could not lose time; she had lost too much already in talking with
+Pasquale.
+
+"Zorzi!" She called him softly.
+
+He started in his sleep, opened his eyes wide, and tried to spring up
+without his crutch, for he fancied himself in a dream. She had thrown
+back the drapery that covered her head and the bright light fell upon
+her face. It hurt her again to see how he staggered and put out his hand
+for his accustomed support.
+
+"I am coming in," she said quietly. "Do not move, unless the door is
+locked."
+
+She met him before he was half across the room. Instinctively she put
+out her hand to help him back to his chair. Then she understood that he
+did not need it, for he was much better now. She saw that he looked to
+the window, expecting to see Nella, and she smiled.
+
+"I am alone," she said. "You see how I trust you. Only Pasquale knows
+that I am here. You must sit down, and I will sit beside you, for I have
+much to say."
+
+He looked at her in silent wonder for a moment, happy beyond words to be
+with her, but very anxious as to the reasons which could have brought
+her to him at such an hour and quite alone. Her manner was so quiet and
+decided that it did not even occur to him to protest against her coming,
+and he sat down as she bade him, but on the bench, and she seated
+herself in the chair, turning in it so that she could see his face. They
+were near enough to speak in low tones.
+
+"My brother Giovanni hates you," she began. "He means to ruin you, if he
+can, before my father comes home."
+
+"I am not afraid of him," said Zorzi, speaking for the first time since
+she had entered. "Let him do his worst."
+
+"You do not know what his worst is," answered Marietta, "and he has got
+Messer Jacopo Contarini to help him. You are surprised? Yes. My
+betrothed husband has promised to speak with his father against you, at
+once. You know that he is of the Council."
+
+Zorzi's face expressed the utmost astonishment.
+
+"Are you quite sure that it is Jacopo Contarini?" he asked, as if unable
+to believe what she said.
+
+"Is it likely that I should be mistaken? My brother was with him this
+afternoon at the palace, our gondolier heard them talking on the stairs
+as they came down. He told Nella, and she has just told me. Giovanni
+heaped all sorts of abuse on you, and Messer Jacopo agreed with all he
+said. Then they spoke of arresting you and bringing you to justice, and
+they talked of the Council. After that Giovanni met the Governor of
+Murano and got into his gondola, and they talked in a low tone. My
+brother gave him a sealed document, and the Governor said that it should
+not be to-night, but to-morrow. That is all I know, but it is enough."
+
+Zorzi half closed his eyes for a moment, in deep thought; and in a flash
+he understood that Contarini wished him out of the way, and was taking
+the first means that offered to get rid of him. To keep faith with such
+a man would be as foolish as to expect any faithfulness from him. Zorzi
+opened his eyes again, and looked at the face of the woman he loved. His
+oath to the society had stood between him and her, and he knew that it
+was no longer binding on him, since Jacopo Contarini was helping to send
+him to destruction. Yet now that it was gone, he saw also that it had
+been the least of the obstacles that made up the barrier.
+
+"Of what do they accuse me?" he asked, after a moment's silence. "What
+can they prove against me?"
+
+"I cannot tell. It matters very little. Do you understand? To-morrow, if
+not to-night, the Governor's men will come here to arrest you, and if
+you have not escaped, you will be imprisoned and taken before the
+Council. They may accuse you of being involved in a conspiracy--they may
+torture you."
+
+She shivered at the thought, and looked into his dark eyes with fear and
+pity. His lip curled a little disdainfully.
+
+"Do you think that I shall run away?" he asked.
+
+"You will not stay here, and let them arrest you!" cried Marietta
+anxiously.
+
+"Your father left me here to take care of what belongs to him, and there
+is much that is valuable. I thank you very much for warning me, but I
+know what your brother means to do, and I shall not go away of my own
+accord. If he can have me taken off by force, he will come here alone
+and search the place. If he searches long enough, he may find what he
+wants."
+
+"Is Paolo Godi's manuscript in this room?" asked Marietta quietly.
+
+Zorzi stared at her in surprise.
+
+"How did you know that your father left it with me?" he asked.
+
+"He would not have entrusted it to any one else. That is natural. My
+brother wants it. Is that the reason why you will not escape? Or is
+there any other?"
+
+"That is the principal reason," answered Zorzi. "Another is that there
+is valuable glass here, which your brother would take."
+
+"Which he would steal," said Marietta bitterly. "But Pasquale can bury
+it in the garden after you are gone. The principal thing is the book.
+Give it to me. I will take care of it till my father comes back. Until
+then you must hide somewhere, for it is madness to stay here. Give me
+the book, and let me take it away at once."
+
+"I cannot give it to you," Zorzi said, with a puzzled expression which
+Marietta did not understand.
+
+"You do not trust me," she answered sadly.
+
+He did not reply at once, for the words made no impression on him when
+he heard them. He trusted her altogether, but there was a material
+difficulty in the way. He remembered how long it had taken to hide the
+iron box under broken glass, and he knew how long it would take to get
+it out again. Marietta could not stay in the laboratory, late into the
+night, and yet if she did not take the box with her now, she might not
+be able to take it at all, since neither she nor Nella could have
+carried it to the house by day, without being seen.
+
+Marietta rested her elbow on the arm of the big chair, and her hand
+supported her chin, in an attitude of thought, as she looked steadily at
+Zorzi's face, and her own was grave and sad.
+
+"You never trusted me," she said presently. "Yet I have been a good
+friend to you, have I not?"
+
+"A friend? Oh, much more than that!" Zorzi turned his eyes from her. "I
+trust you with all my heart."
+
+She shook her head incredulously.
+
+"If you trusted me, you would do what I ask," she said. "I have risked
+something to help you--perhaps to save your life--who knows? Do you know
+what would happen if my brother found me here alone with you? I should
+end my life in a convent. But if you will not save yourself, I might as
+well not have come."
+
+"I would give you the book if I could," answered Zorzi. "But I cannot.
+It is hidden in such a way that it would take a long time to get it out.
+That is the simple truth. Your father and I had buried it here under the
+stones, but somehow your brother suspected that, and I have changed the
+hiding-place. It took a whole morning to do it."
+
+Still Marietta did not quite believe that he could not give it to her if
+he chose. It seemed as if there must always be a shadow between them,
+when they were together, always the beginning of a misunderstanding.
+
+"Where is it?" she asked, after a moment's hesitation. "If you are in
+earnest you will tell me."
+
+"It is better that you should know, in case anything happens to me,"
+answered Zorzi. "It is buried in that big jar, in some three feet of
+broken glass. I had to take the glass out bit by bit, and put it all
+back again."
+
+As Marietta looked at the jar, a little colour rose in her face again.
+
+"Thank you," she said. "I know you trust me, now."
+
+"I always have," he answered softly, "and I always shall, even when you
+are married to Jacopo Contarini."
+
+"That is still far off. Let us not talk of it. You must get ready to
+leave this place before morning. You must take the skiff and get away to
+the mainland, if you can, for till my father comes you will not be safe
+in Venice."
+
+"I shall not go away," said Zorzi firmly. "They may not try to arrest me
+after all."
+
+"But they will, I know they will!" All her anxiety for him came back in
+a moment. "You must go at once! Zorzi, to please me--for my sake--leave
+to-night!"
+
+"For your sake? There is nothing I would not do for your sake, except be
+a coward."
+
+"But it is not cowardly!" pleaded Marietta. "There is nothing else to be
+done, and if my father could know what you risk by staying, he would
+tell you to go, as I do. Please, please, please--"
+
+"I cannot," he answered stubbornly.
+
+"Oh, Zorzi, if you have the least friendship for me, do what I ask! Do
+you not see that I am half mad with anxiety? I entreat you, I beg you, I
+implore you--"
+
+Their eyes met, and hers were wide with fear for him, and earnestness,
+and they were not quite dry.
+
+"Do you care so much?" asked Zorzi, hardly knowing what he said. "Does
+it matter so much to you what becomes of me?"
+
+He moved nearer on the bench. Leaning towards her, where he sat, he
+could rest his elbow on the broad arm of the low chair, and so look into
+her face. She covered her eyes, and shook a little, and her mantle
+slipped from her shoulders and trembled as it settled down into the
+chair. He leaned farther, till he was close to her, and he tried to
+uncover her eyes, very gently, but she resisted. His heart beat slowly
+and hard, like strokes of a hammer, and his hands were shaking, when he
+drew her nearer. Presently he himself sat upon the arm of the chair,
+holding her close to him, and she let him press her head to his breast,
+for she could not think any more; and all at once her hands slipped down
+and she was resting in the hollow of his arm, looking up to his face.
+
+It seemed a long time, as long as whole years, since she had meant to
+drop another rose in his path, or even since she had suffered him to
+press her hand for a moment. The whole tale was told now, in one touch,
+in one look, with little resistance and less fear.
+
+"I love you," he said slowly and earnestly, and the words were strange
+to his own ears.
+
+For he had never said them before, nor had she ever heard them, and when
+they are spoken in that way they are the most wonderful words in the
+world, both to speak and to hear.
+
+The look he had so rarely seen was there now, and there was no care to
+hide what was in her eyes, for she had told him all, without a word, as
+women can.
+
+"I have loved you very long," he said again, and with one hand he
+pressed back her hair and smoothed it.
+
+"I know it," she answered, gazing at him with lips just parted. "But I
+have loved you longer still."
+
+"How could I guess it?" he asked. "It seems so wonderful, so very
+strange!"
+
+"I could not say it first." She smiled. "And yet I tried to tell you
+without words."
+
+"Did you?"
+
+She nodded as her head lay in his arm, and closed her smiling lips
+tightly, and nodded again.
+
+"You would not understand," she said. "You always made it hard for me."
+
+"Oh, if I had only known!"
+
+She lay quietly on his arm for a few seconds, and neither spoke. Only
+the low roar of the furnace was heard in the hot stillness. Marietta
+looked up steadily into his face, with unwinking eyes.
+
+"How you look at me!" he said, with a happy smile.
+
+"I have often wanted to look at you like this," she answered gravely.
+"But until you had told me, how could I?"
+
+He bent down rather timidly, but drawn to her by a power he could not
+resist. His first kiss touched her forehead lightly, with a sort of
+boyish reverence, while a thrill ran through every nerve and fibre of
+his body. But she turned in his arms and threw her own suddenly round
+his neck, and in an instant their lips met.
+
+Zorzi was in a dream, where Marietta alone was real. All thought and
+recollection of danger vanished, the very room was not the laboratory
+where he had so long lived and worked, and thought and suffered. The
+walls were gold, the stone pavement was a silken carpet, the shadowy
+smoke-stained beams were the carved ceiling of a palace, he was himself
+the king and master of the whole world, and he held all his kingdom in
+his arms.
+
+"You understand now," Marietta said at last, holding his face before her
+with her hands.
+
+"No," he answered lovingly. "I do not understand, I will not even try.
+If I do, I shall open my eyes, and it will suddenly be daylight, and I
+shall put out my hands and find nothing! I shall be alone, in my room,
+just awake and aching with a horrible longing for the impossible. You do
+not know what it is to dream of you, and wake in the grey dawn! You
+cannot guess what the emptiness is, the loneliness!"
+
+"I know it well," said Marietta. "I have been perfectly happy, talking
+to you under the plane-tree, your hand in mine, and mine in yours, our
+eyes in each other's eyes, our hearts one heart! And then, all at once,
+there was Nella, standing at the foot of my bed with a big dish in her
+hands, laughing at me because I had been sleeping so soundly! Oh,
+sometimes I could kill her for waking me!"
+
+She drew his face to hers, with a little laugh that broke off short. For
+a kiss is a grave matter.
+
+"How much time we have wasted in all these months!" she said presently.
+"Why would you never understand?"
+
+"How could I guess that you could ever love me?" Zorzi asked.
+
+"I guessed that you loved me," objected Marietta. "At least," she added,
+correcting herself, "I was quite sure of it for a little while. Then I
+did not believe it all. If I had believed it quite, they should never
+have betrothed me to Jacopo Contarini!"
+
+The name recalled all realities to Zorzi, though she spoke it very
+carelessly, almost with scorn. Zorzi sighed and looked up at last, and
+stared at the wall opposite.
+
+"What is it?" asked Marietta quickly. "Why do you sigh?"
+
+"There is reason enough. Are you not betrothed to him, as you say?"
+
+Marietta straightened herself suddenly, and made him look at her. A
+quick light was in her eyes, as she spoke.
+
+"Do you know what you are saying? Do you think that if I meant to marry
+Messer Jacopo, I should be here now, that I should let you hold me in
+your arms, that I would kiss you? Do you really believe that?"
+
+"I could not believe it," Zorzi answered. "And yet--"
+
+"And yet you almost do!" she cried. "What more do you need, to know that
+I love you, with all my heart and soul and will, and that I mean to be
+your wife, come what may?"
+
+"How is it possible?" asked Zorzi almost disconsolately. "How could you
+ever marry me? What am I, after all, compared with you? I am not even a
+Venetian! I am a stranger, a waif, a man with neither name nor fortune!
+And I am half a cripple, lame for life! How can you marry me? At the
+first word of such a thing your father will join his son against me, I
+shall be thrown into prison on some false charge and shall never come
+out again, unless it be to be hanged for some crime I never committed."
+
+"There is a very simple way of preventing all those dreadful things,"
+answered Marietta.
+
+"I wish I could find it."
+
+"Take me with you," she said calmly.
+
+Zorzi looked at her in dumb surprise, for she could not have said
+anything which he had expected less.
+
+"Listen to me," she continued. "You cannot stay here--or rather, you
+shall not, for I will not let you. No, you need not smile and shake your
+head, for I will find some means of making you go."
+
+"You will find that hard, dear love, for that is the only thing I will
+not do for you."
+
+"Is it? We shall see. You are very brave, and you are very, very
+obstinate, but you are not very sensible, for you are only a man, after
+all. In the first place, do you imagine that even if Giovanni were to
+spend a whole week in this room, he would think of looking for the box
+amongst the broken glass?"
+
+"No, I do not think he would," answered Zorzi. "That was sensible of me,
+at all events." She laughed.
+
+"Oh, you are clever enough! I never said that you were not that. I only
+said that you had no sense. As for instance, since you are sure that my
+brother cannot find the box, why do you wish to stay here?"
+
+"I promised your father that I would. I will keep my promise, at all
+costs."
+
+"In which of two ways shall you be of more use to my father? If you hide
+in a safe place till he comes home, and if you then come back to him and
+help him as before? Or if you allow yourself to be thrown into prison,
+and tried, and perhaps hanged or banished, for something you never did?
+And if any harm comes to you, what do you think would become of me? Do
+you see? I told you that you had no common sense. Now you will believe
+me. But if all this is not enough to make you go, I have another plan,
+which you cannot possibly oppose."
+
+"What is that?" asked Zorzi.
+
+"I will go alone. I will cross the bridge, and take the skiff, and row
+myself over to Venice and from Venice I will get to the mainland."
+
+"You could not row the skiff," objected Zorzi, amused at the idea. "You
+would fall off, or upset her."
+
+"Then I should drown," returned Marietta philosophically. "And you would
+be sorry, whether you thought it was your fault or not. Is that true?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Very well. If you will not promise me faithfully to escape to the
+mainland to-night, I swear to you by all that you and I believe in, and
+most of all by our love for each other, that I will do what I said, and
+run away from my father's house, to-night. But you will not let me go
+alone, will you?"
+
+"No!"
+
+"There! You see! Of course you would not let me go alone, me, a poor
+weak girl, who have never taken a step alone in my life, until to-night!
+And they say that the world is so wicked! What would become of me if you
+let me go away alone?"
+
+"If I thought you meant to do that!"
+
+He laughed again, and drew her to him, and would have kissed her; but
+she held him back and looked at him earnestly.
+
+"I mean it," she said. "That is what I will do. I swear that I will.
+Yes--now you may."
+
+And she kissed him of her own accord, but quickly withdrew herself from
+his arms again.
+
+"You have your choice," she said, "and you must choose quickly, for I
+have been here too long--it must be nearly half an hour since I left my
+room, and Nella is waiting for me, thinking that I am with my brother
+and his wife. Promise me to do what I ask, and I will go back, and when
+my father comes home I will tell him the whole troth. That is the wisest
+thing, after all. Or, I will go with you, if you will take me as I am."
+
+"No," he answered, with an effort. "I will not take you with me."
+
+It cost him a hard struggle to refuse. There she was, resting against
+his arm, in the blush and wealth of unspent love, asking to go with him,
+who loved her better than his life. But in a quick vision he saw her
+with him, she who was delicately nurtured and used from childhood to all
+that care and money could give, he saw her with him, sharing his misery,
+his hunger and his wandering, suffering silently for love's sake, but
+suffering much, and he could not bear the fancied sight.
+
+"I should be in your way," she said. "Besides, they would send all over
+Italy to find me."
+
+"It is not that," he answered. "You might starve."
+
+She looked up anxiously to his face.
+
+"And you?" she asked. "Have you no money?"
+
+"No. How should I have money? I believe I have one piece of gold and a
+little silver. It will be enough to keep me from starvation till I can
+get work somewhere. I can live on bread and water, as I have many a
+time."
+
+"If I had only thought!" exclaimed Marietta. "I have so much! My father
+left me a little purse of gold that I shall never need."
+
+"I would not take your father's money," answered Zorzi. "But have no
+fear. If I go at all, I shall do well enough. Besides, there is a man in
+Venice--" He stopped short, not wishing to speak of Zuan Venier.
+
+"You must not make any condition," she answered, not heeding the
+unfinished sentence. "You must go at once."
+
+She rose as she spoke.
+
+"Every minute I stay here makes it more dangerous for me to go back,"
+she said. "I know that you will keep your promise. We must say
+good-bye."
+
+He had risen, too, and stood facing her, his crutch under his arm. In
+all her anxiety for his safety she had half forgotten that his wound was
+barely healed, and that he still walked with great difficulty. And now,
+at the thought of leaving him she forgot everything else. They had been
+so cruelly short, those few minutes of perfect happiness between the
+long misunderstanding that had kept them apart and the parting again
+that was to separate them, perhaps for months. As they looked at each
+other, they both grew pale, and in an instant Zorzi's young face looked
+haggard and his eyes seemed to grow hollow, while Marietta's filled with
+tears.
+
+"Good-bye!" she cried in a broken voice. "God keep you, my dear love!"
+
+Then her face was buried in the hollow of his shoulder and her tears
+flowed fast and burning hot.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+
+It was over at last, and Zorzi stood alone by the table, for Marietta
+would not let him go with her to the door. She could not trust herself
+before Pasquale, even in the gloom. He stood by the table, leaning on it
+heavily with one hand, and trying to realise all that had come into his
+lonely life within the half hour, and all that might happen to him
+before morning. The glorious and triumphant certainty which first love
+brings to every man when it is first returned, still swelled his heart
+and filled the air he breathed, so that while breathing deep, he could
+not breathe enough. In such a mood all dangers dwindled, all obstacles
+sank out of sight as shadows sink at dawn. And yet the parting had hurt
+him, as if his body had been wrenched in the middle by some resistless
+force.
+
+Women feel parting differently. Shall we men ever understand them? To a
+man, first love is a victory, to a girl it is a sweet wonder, and a joy,
+and a tender longing, all in one. And when partings come, as come they
+must in life until death brings the last, it is always the man who
+leaves, and the woman who is left, even though in plain fact it be the
+man that stays behind; and we men feel a little contemptuous pity for
+one who seems to cry out after the woman he loves, asking why she has
+left him, and beseeching her to come back to him, but our compassion for
+the woman in like case is always sincere. In such small things there are
+the great mysteries of that prime difference, which neither man nor
+woman can ever fully understand, but which, if not understood a little,
+is the cause of much miserable misunderstanding in life.
+
+Zorzi had to face the future at once, for it was upon him, and the old
+life was over, perhaps never to come again. He stood still, where he
+was, for any useless movement was an effort, and he tried to collect his
+thoughts and determine just what he should do, and how it was to be
+done. His eye fell on the piece of gold Giovanni had paid for the
+beaker. In the morning, if he drew the iron tray further down the
+annealing oven, the glass would be ready to be taken out, and Giovanni
+could take it if he pleased, for he knew whose it was. But starvation
+itself could not have induced Zorzi to take the money now. He turned
+from it with contempt. All he needed was enough to buy bread for a week,
+and mere bread cost little. That little he had, and it must suffice.
+Besides that he would make a bundle small enough to be easily carried.
+His chief difficulty would be in rowing the skiff. To use the single oar
+at all it was almost indispensable to stand, and to stand chiefly on the
+right foot, since the single rowlock, as in every Venetian boat, was on
+the starboard side and could not be shifted to port. He fancied that in
+some way he could manage to sit on the thwart, and use the oar as a
+paddle. In any case he must get away, since flight was the wisest
+course, and since he had promised Marietta that he would go. His
+reflections had occupied scarce half a minute.
+
+He began to walk towards the small room where he slept, and where he
+kept his few possessions. He had taken two steps from the table, when he
+stopped short, turned round and listened.
+
+He heard the sound of light footsteps, running along the path and coming
+nearer. In another moment Marietta was at the window, her face deadly
+white, her eyes wide with fear.
+
+"They are there!" she cried wildly. "They have come to-night! Hide
+yourself quickly! Pasquale will keep them out as long as he can."
+
+She had found Pasquale stoutly refusing to open the door. Outside stood
+a lieutenant of the archers with half-a-dozen men, demanding admittance
+in the name of the Governor. Pasquale answered that they might get in by
+force if they could, but that he had no orders to open the door to them.
+The lieutenant was in doubt whether his warrant authorised him to break
+in or not.
+
+Zorzi knew that Marietta was in even more danger than he. The situation
+was desperate and the time short. She was still at the window, looking
+in.
+
+"You know your way to the main furnace rooms," Zorzi said quickly, but
+with great coolness. "Run in there, and stand still in the dark till
+everything is quiet. Then slip out and get home as quickly as
+possible."
+
+"But you? What will become of you?" asked Marietta in an agony of
+anxiety.
+
+"If they do not take me at once, they will search all the buildings and
+will find you," answered Zorzi. "I will go and meet them, while you are
+hiding."
+
+He opened the door beside the window and put his crutch forward upon the
+path. At the same moment the sound of a tremendous blow echoed down the
+dark corridor. The moon was low but had not set and there was still
+light in the garden.
+
+"Quickly!" Zorzi exclaimed. "They are breaking down the door."
+
+But Marietta clung to him almost savagely, when he tried to push her in
+the direction of the main furnace rooms on the other side of the garden.
+
+"I will not leave you," she cried. "They shall take me with you,
+wherever you are going!"
+
+She grasped his hand with both her hands, and then, as he moved, she
+slipped her arm round him. At the street door the pounding blows
+succeeded each other in quick succession, but apparently without effect.
+
+Zorzi saw that he must make her understand her extreme danger. He took
+hold of her wrist with a quiet strength that recalled her to herself,
+and there was a tone of command in his voice when he spoke.
+
+"Go at once," he said. "It will be worse for both of us if you are found
+here. They will hang me for stealing the master's daughter as well as
+his secrets. Go, dear love, go! Good-bye!"
+
+He kissed her once, and then gently pushed her from him. She understood
+that she must obey, and that if he spoke of his own danger it was for
+the sake of her good name. With a gesture of despair she turned and left
+him, crossed the patch of light without looking back, and disappeared
+into the shadows beyond. She was safe now, for he would go and meet the
+archers, opening the door to give himself up. Using his crutch he swung
+himself along into the dark corridor without another moment's
+hesitation.
+
+But matters did not turn out as he expected. When the force came down
+the footway from the dilution of San Piero, Giovanni was still talking
+to his wife about household economies and censuring what he called the
+reckless extravagance of his father's housekeeping. As he talked, he
+heard the even tread of a number of marching men. He sprang to his feet
+and went to the window, for he guessed who was coming, though he could
+not imagine why the Governor had not waited till the next day, as had
+been agreed. He could not know that on leaving him Jacopo Contarini had
+seen his father and had told him of Zorzi's misdeeds; and that the
+Governor had supped with old Contarini, who was an uncompromising
+champion of the law, besides being one of the Ten and therefore the
+Governor's superior in office; and that Contarini had advised that Zorzi
+should be taken on that same night, as he might be warned of his danger
+and find means to escape. Moreover, Contarini offered a trusty and swift
+oarsman to take the order to Murano, and the Governor wrote it on the
+supper table, between two draughts of Greek wine, which he drank from a
+goblet made by Angelo Beroviero himself in the days when he still worked
+at the art.
+
+In half an hour the warrant was in the hands of the officer, who
+immediately called out half-a-dozen of his men and marched them down to
+the glass-house.
+
+Giovanni saw them stop and knock at the door, and he heard Pasquale's
+gruff inquiry.
+
+"In the Governor's name, open at once!" said the officer.
+
+"Any one can say that," answered the porter. "In the devil's name go
+home and go to bed! Is this carnival time, to go masquerading by the
+light of the moon and waking up honest people?"
+
+"Silence!" roared the lieutenant. "Open the door, or it will be the
+worse for you."
+
+"It will be the worse for you, if the Signor Giovanni hears this
+disturbance," answered Pasquale, who could see Giovanni at the window
+opposite in the moonlight. "Either get orders from him, or go home and
+leave me in holy peace, you band of braying jackasses, you mob of
+blobber-lipped Barbary apes, you pack of doltish, droiling, doddered
+joltheads! Be off!"
+
+This eloquence, combined with Pasquale's assured manner, caused the
+lieutenant to hesitate before breaking down the door, an operation for
+which he had not been prepared, and for which he had brought no engines
+of battery.
+
+"Can you get in?" he inquired of his men, without deigning to answer the
+porter's invectives. "If not, let one of you go for a sledge hammer.
+Try it with the butts of your halberds against the lock, one, two, three
+and all at once."
+
+"Oh, break down the door!" cried Pasquale derisively. "It is of oak and
+iron, and it cost good money, and you shall pay for it, you lubberly
+ours."
+
+But the men pounded away with a good will.
+
+"Open the door!" cried Giovanni from the opposite window, at the top of
+his lungs.
+
+The sight of the destruction of property for which he might have to
+account to his father was very painful to him. But he could not make
+himself heard in the terrific din, or else Pasquale suspected the truth
+and pretended that he could not hear. The porter had seen Marietta a
+moment in the gloom, and he knew that she had gone back to warn Zorzi.
+He hoped to give them both time to hide themselves, and he now retired
+from the grating and began to strengthen the door, first by putting two
+more heavy oak bars in their places across it near the top and bottom,
+and further by bringing the scanty furniture from his lodge and piling
+it up against the panels.
+
+Meanwhile the pounding continued at a great rate, and Giovanni thought
+it better to go down and interfere in person, since he could not make
+himself heard. The servants were all roused by this time, and many heads
+were looking out of upper windows, not only from Beroviero's house, but
+from the houses higher up, beyond the wooden bridge. Two men who were
+walking up the footway from the opposite direction stopped at a little
+distance and looked on, their hoods drawn over their eyes.
+
+Giovanni came out hurriedly and crossed the bridge. He laid his hand on
+the lieutenant's shoulder anxiously and spoke close to his ear, for the
+pounding was deafening. The six men had strapped their halberds firmly
+together in a solid bundle with their belts, and standing three on each
+side they swung the whole mass of wood and iron like a battering ram, in
+regular time.
+
+"Stop them, sir! Stop them, pray!" cried Giovanni. "I will have the door
+opened for you."
+
+Suddenly there was silence as the officer caught one of his men by the
+arm and bade them all wait.
+
+"Who are you, sir?" he inquired.
+
+"I am Giovanni Beroviero," answered Giovanni, sure that his name would
+inspire respect.
+
+The officer took off his cap politely and then replaced it. The two men
+who were looking on nudged each other.
+
+"I have a warrant to arrest a certain Zorzi," began the lieutenant.
+
+"I know! It is quite right, and he is within," answered Giovanni.
+"Pasquale!" he called, standing on tiptoe under the grating. "Pasquale!
+Open the door at once for these gentlemen."
+
+"Gentlemen!" echoed one of the men softly, with a low laugh and digging
+his elbow into his companion's side.
+
+No one else spoke for a moment. Then Pasquale looked through the
+grating.
+
+"What did you say?" he asked.
+
+"I said open the door at once!" answered Giovanni. "Can you not
+recognise the officers of the law when you see them?"
+
+"No," grunted Pasquale, "I have never seen much of them. Did you say I
+was to open the door?"
+
+"Yes!" cried Giovanni angrily, for he wished to show his zeal before the
+officer. "Blockhead!" he added with emphasis, as Pasquale disappeared
+again and was presumably out of hearing.
+
+They all heard him dragging the furniture away again, the box-bed and
+the table and the old chair.
+
+Zorzi came up as Pasquale was clearing the stuff away.
+
+"They want you," said the old sailor, seeing him and hearing him at the
+same time. "What have you been doing now? Where is the young lady?"
+
+"In the main furnace room," whispered Zorzi. "Do not let them go there
+whatever they do."
+
+Pasquale gave vent to his feelings in a low voice, as he dragged the
+last things back and began to unbar the door. Zorzi leaned against the
+wall, for his lameness prevented him from helping. At last the door was
+opened, and he saw the figures of the men outside against the light. He
+went forward as quickly as he could, pushing past Pasquale to get out.
+He stood on the threshold, leaning on his crutch.
+
+"I am Zorzi," he said quietly.
+
+"Zorzi the Dalmatian, called the Ballarin?" asked the lieutenant.
+
+"Yes, yes!" cried Giovanni, anxious to hasten matters, "They call him
+the dancer because he is lame. This is that foreign liar, that thief,
+that assassin! Take him quickly!"
+
+The archers, who in the changes of time had become halberdiers, had
+dropped the bundle of spears they had made for a battering-ram. Two of
+them took Zorzi by the arms roughly, and prepared to drag him along with
+them. He made no resistance, but objected quietly.
+
+"I can walk better, if you do not hold me," he said. "I cannot run away,
+as you see."
+
+"Let him walk between you," ordered the officer. "Good night, sir," he
+said to Giovanni.
+
+Two of the men lifted the bundle of halberds and began to carry it
+between them, trying to undo the straps as they walked, for they could
+not stay behind. Giovanni saluted the officer and stood aside for the
+party to pass. The two men who had looked on had separated, and one had
+already gone forward and disappeared beyond the bridge. The other
+lingered, apparently still interested in the proceedings. Pasquale, dumb
+with rage at last, stood in the doorway.
+
+"Let me pass," said Giovanni, as soon as the archers had gone on a few
+steps, surrounding Zorzi.
+
+With a growl, Pasquale came out and stood on the pavement a moment, and
+Giovanni went in. Instantly, the man who had lingered made a step
+towards the porter, whispered something in his ear, and then made off as
+fast as he could in the direction taken by the archers. Pasquale looked
+after him in surprise, only half understanding the meaning of what he
+had said. Then he went in, but left the door ajar. The people who had
+been looking out of the windows of Beroviero's house had disappeared,
+when they had seen that Giovanni was on the footway. All was silent now;
+only, far off, the tramp of the archers could still be heard.
+
+They could not go very fast, with Zorzi in their midst, but the two men
+who were busy unfastening the bundle of halberds lagged in the rear,
+talking in a low voice. They did not notice quick footsteps behind them,
+but they heard a low whistle, answered instantly by another, just as the
+main party was nearing the corner by the church of San Piero. That was
+the last the two loiterers remembered, for at the next instant they lay
+in a heap upon the halberds, which had fallen upon the pavement with a
+tremendous clatter. A couple of well-delivered blows with a stout stick
+had thoroughly stunned them almost at the same instant. It would be some
+time before they recovered their senses.
+
+While the man who had whispered to Pasquale was doing effectual work in
+the rear, his companion was boldly attacking the main party in front. As
+the lieutenant stopped short and turned his head when the halberds
+dropped, a blow under the jaw from a fist like a sledge hammer almost
+lifted him off his feet and sent him reeling till he fell senseless,
+half-a-dozen paces away. Before the two archers who were guarding Zorzi
+could defend themselves, unarmed as they were, another blow had felled
+one of them. The second, springing forward, was caught up like a child
+by his terrible assailant and whirled through the air, to fall with a
+noisy splash into the shallow waters of the canal. The other companion
+attacked the remaining two from behind with his club and knocked one of
+them down. The last sprang to one side and ran on a few steps as fast as
+he could. But swifter feet followed him, and in an instant iron fingers
+were clutching his throat and squeezing his breath out. He struggled a
+moment, and then sank down. His captor deliberately knocked him on the
+head with his fist, and he rolled over like a stone.
+
+Utterly bewildered, Zorzi stood still, where he had stopped. Never in
+his life had he dreamed that two men could dispose of seven, in
+something like half a minute, with nothing but a stick for a weapon
+between them. But he had seen it with his eyes, and he was not surprised
+when he felt himself lifted from his feet, with his crutch beside him,
+and carried along the footway at a sharp run, in the direction of the
+glass-house. His reason told him that he had been rescued and was being
+quickly conveyed to a place of safety, but he could not help distrusting
+the means that accomplished the end, for he had unconsciously watched
+the two men in what could hardly be called a fight, though he could not
+see their faces, and a more murderous pair of ruffians he had never
+seen. Men not well used to such deeds could not have done them at all,
+thought Zorzi, as he was borne along, his breath almost shaken out of
+him by the strong man's movements.
+
+All was quiet, as they passed the glass-house, and no one was looking
+out, for Giovanni's wife feared him far too much to seem to be spying
+upon his doings, and the servants were discreet. Only Nella, hiding
+behind the flowers in Marietta's window, and supposing that Marietta was
+with her sister-in-law, was watching the door of the glass-house to see
+when Giovanni would come out. She now heard the steps of the two men,
+running down the footway. The rescue had taken place too far away for
+her to hear anything but a splash in the canal. She saw that one of the
+men was carrying what seemed to be the body of a man. She instinctively
+crossed herself, as they ran on towards the end of the canal, and when
+she could see them no longer in the shadow, she drew back into the room,
+momentarily forgetting Giovanni, and already running over in her head
+the wonderful conversation she was going to have with her mistress as
+soon as the young girl came back to her room.
+
+Pasquale, meanwhile, withdrew his feet from the old leathern slippers he
+wore, and noiselessly stole down the corridor and along the garden path,
+to find out what Giovanni was doing. When he came to the laboratory, he
+saw that the window was now shut, as well as the door, and that Giovanni
+had set the lamp on the floor behind the further end of the annealing
+oven. Its bright light shot upwards to the dark ceiling, leaving the
+front of the laboratory almost in the dark. Pasquale listened and he
+heard the sharp tapping of a hammer on stone. He understood at once that
+Giovanni had shut himself in to search for something, and would
+therefore be busy some time.
+
+Without noise he crossed the garden to the entrance of the main furnace
+room and went into the passage.
+
+"Come out quickly!" he whispered, as his seaman's eyes made out
+Marietta's figure in a gloom that would have been total darkness to a
+landsman; and he took hold of the girl's arm to lead her away.
+
+"Your brother is in the laboratory, and will not come out," he
+whispered. "By this time Zorzi may be safe."
+
+"Safe!" She spoke the word aloud, in her relief.
+
+"Hush, for heaven's sake. The door is open. You can get home now without
+being seen. Make no noise."
+
+She followed him quickly. They had to cross the patch of dim light in
+the garden, and she glanced at the closed window of the laboratory. It
+had all happened as Zorzi had foreseen, and Giovanni was already
+searching for the manuscript. The only thing she could not understand
+was that Zorzi should have escaped the archers. Even as she crossed the
+garden, the two man were passing the door, bearing Zorzi he knew not
+where, but away from the nearest danger. A moment later she was on the
+footway, hurrying towards the bridge. Pasquale stood watching her, to be
+sure that she was safe, and he glanced up at the windows, too, fearing
+lest some one might still be looking out.
+
+But chance had saved Marietta this time. She carefully barred the side
+door after she had gone in, and groped her way up the dark stairs. On
+the landing there was light from below, and she paused for breath, her
+bosom heaving as she leaned a moment on the balustrade. She passed one
+hand over her brows, as if to bring herself back to present
+consciousness, and then went quickly on.
+
+"Safe," she repeated under her breath as she went, "safe, safe, safe!"
+
+It was to give herself courage, for she could hardly believe it, though
+she knew that Pasquale would not deceive her and must have some strong
+good reason for what he said. There had not been time to question him.
+
+All he knew himself was that a man whose face he could not see had
+whispered to him that Zorzi was in no danger. But he had recognised the
+other man who had gone up the footway first, in spite of his short cloak
+and hood, and he felt well assured that Charalambos Aristarchi could
+throw the officer and his six men into the canal without anybody's help,
+if he chose, though why the Greek ruffian was suddenly inspired to
+interfere on Zorzi's behalf was a mystery past his comprehension.
+
+Marietta entered her room, and Nella, who had been revelling in the
+coming conversation, was suddenly very busy, stirring the drink of lime
+flowers which Marietta had ordered. She was so sure that her mistress
+had been all the time in the house, and so anxious not to have it
+thought that she could possibly have been idle, even for a moment, that
+she looked intently into the cup and stirred the contents in a most
+conscientious manner. Marietta turned from her almost immediately and
+began to undo the braids of hair, that Nella might comb it out and plait
+it again for the night. Nella immediately began to talk, and to tell all
+that she had seen from the window, with many other things which she had
+not seen.
+
+"But of course you were looking out, too," she said presently. "They
+were all at the windows for some time."
+
+"No," Marietta answered. "I was not looking out."
+
+"Well, it was to-night, and not to-morrow, you see. Do you think the
+Governor is stupid? If he had waited till to-morrow, we should have told
+Zorzi. Poor Zorzi! I saw them taking him away, loaded with chains."
+
+"In chains!" cried Marietta, starting painfully.
+
+"I could not see the chains," continued Nella apologetically, "but I am
+sure they were there. It was too dark to see. Poor Zorzi! Poor Zorzi! By
+this time he is in the prison under the Governor's house, and he wishes
+that he had never been born. A little straw, a little water! That is all
+he has."
+
+Marietta moved in her chair, as if something hurt her, but she knew that
+it would be unwise to stop the woman's talk. Besides, Nella was
+evidently sorry for Zorzi, though she thought his arrest very
+interesting. She went on for a long time, combing more and more slowly,
+after the manner of talkative maids, when they fear that their work may
+be finished before their story. But for Pasquale's reassuring words,
+Marietta felt that she must have gone mad. Zorzi was safe, somewhere,
+and he was not in the Governor's prison, on the straw. She told herself
+so again and again as Nella went on.
+
+"There is one thing I did not tell you," said the latter, with a sudden
+increase of vigour at the thought.
+
+"I think you have told me enough, Nella," said Marietta wearily. "I am
+very tired."
+
+"You cannot go to bed till I have plaited your hair," answered Nella
+mercilessly, but at the same time laying down the comb. "Just before you
+came in, I was looking out of the window. It was just an accident, for I
+was very busy with your things, of course. Well, as I was saying, in
+passing I happened to glance out of the window, and I saw--guess what I
+saw, my pretty lady!"
+
+Marietta trembled, thinking that Nella had seen her, and perhaps
+recognised her, and was about to bring her garrulous tale to a dramatic
+climax by telling her so.
+
+"Perhaps you saw a woman," she suggested desperately.
+
+"A woman indeed!" cried Nella. "That must be a nice woman who would be
+seen in the street at such a time of night, and the Governor's archers
+there, too! Woman? I would not look at such a woman, I tell you! No.
+What I saw was this, since you cannot guess. There came two big men,
+running fast, and they were carrying a dead body between them! Eh! They
+were at no good, I tell you. One could see that."
+
+Marietta could bear no more, now. She bent her head and bit her finger
+to keep herself from crying out.
+
+"If you will not be still, how in the world am I to plait your hair?"
+asked Nella querulously.
+
+"Do it quickly, please," Marietta succeeded in saying. "I am so very
+tired to-night."
+
+Her head bent still further forward.
+
+"Indeed," said Nella, much annoyed that her tale should not have been
+received with more interest, "you seem to be half asleep already."
+
+But Nella was much too truly attached to her mistress not to feel some
+anxiety when she saw her white face and noticed how uncertainly she
+walked. Nella had her in bed at last, however, and gave her more of the
+soothing drink, smoothed the cool pillow under her head, looked round
+the room to see that all was in order before going away, then took the
+lamp and at last went out.
+
+"Good night, my pretty lady," said Nella cheerfully from the door, "good
+rest and pleasant dreams!"
+
+She was gone at last, and she would not come back before morning.
+
+Marietta sat up in bed in the dark and pressed her hands to her temples
+in utter despair.
+
+"I shall go mad! I shall go mad!" she whispered to herself.
+
+She remembered that she had left her light silk mantle in the
+laboratory, on the great chair.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+
+Aristarchi's interference to rescue Zorzi had not been disinterested,
+and so far as justice was concerned he was quite ready to believe that
+the Dalmatian had done all the things of which he was accused. The fact
+was not of the slightest importance in the situation. It was much more
+to the point that in the complicated and dangerous plan which the Greek
+captain and Arisa were carrying out, Zorzi could be of use to them,
+without his own knowledge. As has been told, the two had decided that he
+was in love with Marietta, and she with him. The rest followed
+naturally.
+
+After meeting his father and telling him Giovanni's story, Jacopo
+Contarini had gone to the house of the Agnus Dei for an hour, and during
+that time he had told Arisa everything, according to his wont. No sooner
+was he gone than Arisa made the accustomed signal and Aristarchi
+appeared at her window, for it was then already night. He judged rightly
+that there was no time to be lost, and having stopped at his house to
+take his trusted man, the two rowed themselves over to Murano, and were
+watching the glass-house from, a distance, fully half an hour before the
+archers appeared.
+
+The officer and his men came to their senses, one by one, bruised and
+terrified. The man who had been thrown into the shallow canal got upon
+his feet, standing up to his waist in the water, sputtering and coughing
+from the ducking. Before he tried to gain the shore, he crossed himself
+three times and repeated all the prayers he could remember, in a great
+hurry, for he was of opinion that Satan must still be in the
+neighbourhood. It was not possible that any earthly being should have
+picked him up like a puppy and flung him fully ten feet from the spot
+where he had been standing. He struggled to the bank, his feet sinking
+at each step in the slimy bottom; and after that he was forced to wade
+some thirty yards to the stairs in front of San Piero before he could
+get out of the water, a miserable object, drenched from head to foot and
+coated with black mud from his knees down. Yet he was in a better case
+than his companions.
+
+They came to themselves slowly, the officer last of all, for
+Aristarchi's blow under the jaw had nearly killed him, whereas the other
+five men had only received stunning blows on different parts of their
+thick skulls. In half an hour they were all on their feet, though some
+of them were very unsteady, and in a forlorn train they made the best of
+their way back to the Governor's palace. Their discomfiture had been so
+sudden and complete that none of them had any idea as to the number of
+their assailants; but most of them agreed that as they came within sight
+of the church, Zorzi had slackened his pace, and that an unholy fire
+had issued from his eyes, his mouth and his nostrils, while he made
+strange signs in the air with his crutch, and suddenly grew to a
+gigantic stature. The devils who were his companions had immediately
+appeared in great numbers, and though the archers had fought against
+their supernatural adversaries with the courage of heroes, they had been
+struck down senseless where they stood; and when they had recovered
+their sight and their other understanding, Zorzi had long since vanished
+to the kingdom of darkness which was his natural abode.
+
+Those things the officer told the Governor on the next day, and the men
+solemnly swore to them, and they were all written down by the official
+scribe. But the Governor raised one eyebrow a little, and the corners of
+his mouth twitched strangely, though he made no remark upon what had
+been said. He remembered, however, that Giovanni had advised him to send
+a very strong force to arrest the lame young man, from which he argued
+that Zorzi had powerful friends, and that Giovanni knew it. He then
+visited the scene of the fight, and saw that there were drops of blood
+on dry stones, which was not astonishing and which gave no clue whatever
+to the identity of the rescuers. He pointed out quietly to his guide,
+the man who had only received a ducking, that there were no signs of
+fire on the pavement nor on the walls of the houses, which was a strong
+argument against any theory of diabolical intervention; and this the man
+was reluctantly obliged to admit. The strangest thing, however, was
+that the people who lived near by seemed to have heard no noise, though
+one old man, who slept badly, believed that he had heard the clatter of
+wood and iron falling together, and then a splashing in the canal; and
+indeed those were almost the only sounds that had disturbed the night.
+The whole affair was shrouded in mystery, and the Governor, who knew
+that his men were to be trusted as far as their limited intelligence
+could go, resolved to refer the matter to the Council of Ten without
+delay. He therefore bade the archers hold their tongues and refuse to
+talk of their misadventure.
+
+On that night Giovanni had suffered the greatest disappointment he
+remembered in his whole life. He had found without much trouble the
+stone that rang hollow, but it had cost him great pains to lift it, and
+the sweat ran down from his forehead and dropped upon the slab as he
+slowly got it up. His heart beat so that he fancied he could hear it,
+both from the effort he made, and from his intense excitement, now that
+the thing he had most desired in the world was within his grasp. At last
+the big stone was raised upright, and the light of the lamp that stood
+on the floor fell slanting across the dark hole. Giovanni brought the
+lamp to the edge and looked in. He could not see the box, but a quantity
+of loose earth lay there, under which it was doubtless buried. He knelt
+down and began to scoop the earth out, using his two hands together.
+Then he thrust one hand in, and felt about for the box. There was
+nothing there. He cleared out the cavity thoroughly, and tried to loosen
+the soil at the bottom, tearing his nails in his excitement. It must be
+there, he was sure.
+
+But it was not. When he realised that he had been tricked, he collapsed,
+kneeling as he was, and sat upon his heels, and his crooked hands all
+dark with the dusty earth clutched at the stones beside him. He remained
+thus a long time, staring at the empty hole. Then caution, which was
+even stronger in his nature than greed, brought him to himself. His thin
+face was grey and haggard as he carefully swept the earth back to its
+place, removing all traces of what he had done. Then he knew how foolish
+he had been to let Zorzi know what he had partly heard and partly
+guessed.
+
+Of course, as soon as Zorzi understood that Giovanni had found out where
+the book was, he had taken it out and put it away in a safer place, to
+which Giovanni had no clue at all. Zorzi was diabolically clever, and
+would not have been so foolish as to hide the treasure again in the same
+room or in the same way. It was probably in the garden now, but it would
+take a strong man a day or two to dig up all the earth there to the
+depth at which the book must have been buried. Zorzi must have done the
+work at night, after the furnaces were out, and when there were no night
+boys to watch him. But then, the boys had been feeding the fires in the
+laboratory until the previous night, and it followed that he must have
+bailed the box this very evening.
+
+Giovanni got the slab back into its place without injuring it, and he
+rubbed the edges with dust, and swept the place with a broom, as Zorzi
+had done twice already. Then he took the lamp and set it on the table
+before the window. The light fell on the gold piece that lay there. He
+took it, examined it carefully, and slipped it into his wallet with a
+sort of mechanical chuckle. He glanced at the furnace next, and
+recollected that the precious pieces Zorzi had made were in the
+annealing oven. But that did not matter, for the fires would now go out
+and the whole furnace would slowly cool, so that the annealing would be
+very perfect. No one but he could enter the laboratory, now that Zorzi
+was gone, and he could take the pieces to his own house at his leisure.
+They were substantial proofs of Zorzi's wickedness in breaking the laws
+of Venice, however, and it would perhaps be wiser to leave them where
+they were, until the Governor should take cognizance of their existence.
+
+His first disappointment turned to redoubled hatred of the man who had
+caused it, and whom it was safer to hate now than formerly, since he was
+in the clutches of the law; moreover, the defeat of Giovanni's hopes was
+by no means final, after the first shock was over. He could make an
+excuse for having the garden dug over, on pretence of improving it
+during his father's absence; the more easily, as he had learned that the
+garden had always been under Zorzi's care, and must now be cultivated
+by some one else. Giovanni did not believe it possible that the precious
+box had been taken away altogether. It was therefore near, and he could
+find it, and there would be plenty of time before his father's return.
+Nevertheless, he looked about the laboratory and went into the small
+room where Zorzi had slept. There was water there, and Spanish soap, and
+he washed his hands carefully, and brushed the dust from his coat and
+from the knees of his fine black hose. He knew that his patient wife
+would be waiting for him when he went back to the house.
+
+He searched Zorzi's room carefully, but could find nothing. An earthen
+jar containing broken white glass stood in one corner. The narrow
+truckle-bed, with its single thin mattress and flattened pillow, all
+neat and trim, could not have hidden anything. On a line stretched
+across from wall to wall a few clothes were hanging--a pair of
+disconsolate brown hose, the waistband on the one side of the line
+hanging down to meet the feet on the other, two clean shirts, and a
+Sunday doublet. On the wall a cap with a black eagle's feather hung by a
+nail. Here and there on the white plaster, Zorzi had roughly sketched
+with a bit of charcoal some pieces of glass which he had thought of
+making. That was all. The floor was paved with bricks, and a short
+examination showed that none of them had been moved.
+
+Giovanni turned back into the laboratory, stood a moment looking
+disconsolately at the big stone which it had cost him so much fruitless
+labour to move, and then passed round by the other side of the furnace,
+along the wall against which the bench and the easy chair were placed.
+His eye fell on Marietta's silk mantle, which lay as when it had slipped
+down from her shoulders, the skirts of it trailing on the floor. His
+brows contracted suddenly. He came nearer, felt the stuff, and was sure
+that he recognised it. Then he looked at it, as it lay. It had the
+unmistakable appearance of having been left, as it had been, by the
+person who had last sat in the chair.
+
+Two explanations of the presence of the mantle in the laboratory
+suggested themselves to him at once, but the idea that Marietta could
+herself have been seated in the chair not long ago was so absurd that he
+at once adopted the other. Zorzi had stolen the mantle, and used it for
+himself in the evening, confident that no one would see him. To-night he
+had been surprised and had left it in the chair, another and perhaps a
+crowning proof of his atrocious crimes. Was he not a thief, as well as a
+liar and an assassin? Giovanni knew well enough that the law would
+distinguish between stealing the art of glass-making, which was merely a
+civil offence, though a grave one, and stealing a mantle of silk which
+he estimated to be worth at least two or three pieces of gold. That was
+theft, and it was criminal, and it was one of many crimes which Zorzi
+had undoubtedly committed. The hangman would twist the rest out of him
+with the rack and the iron boot, thought Giovanni gleefully. The
+Governor should see the mantle with his own eyes.
+
+Before he went away, he was careful to fasten the window securely
+inside, and he locked the door after him, taking the key. He carried the
+brass lamp with him, for the corridor was very dark and the night was
+quite still.
+
+Pasquale was seated on the edge of his box-bed in his little lodge when
+Giovanni came to the door. He was more like a big and very ugly
+watch-dog crouching in his kennel than anything else.
+
+"Let no one try to go into the laboratory," said Giovanni, setting down
+the lamp. "I have locked it myself."
+
+Pasquale snarled something incomprehensible, by way of reply, and rose
+to let Giovanni out. He noticed that the latter had brought nothing but
+the lamp with him. When the door was open Pasquale looked across at the
+house, and saw that although there was still light in some of the other
+windows, Marietta's window was now dark. She was safe in bed, for
+Giovanni's search had occupied more than an hour.
+
+Marietta might have breathed somewhat more freely if she had known that
+her brother did not even suspect her of having been to the laboratory,
+but the knowledge would have been more than balanced by a still greater
+anxiety if she had been told that Zorzi could be accused of a common
+theft.
+
+She sat up in the dark and pressed her throbbing temples with her hands.
+She thought, if she thought at all, of getting up again and going back
+to the glass-house. Pasquale would let her in, of course, and she could
+get the mantle back. But there was Nella, in the next room, and Nella
+seemed to be always awake, and would hear her stirring and come in to
+know if she wanted anything. Besides, she was in the dark. The night
+light burned always in Nella's room, a tiny wick supported by a bit of
+split cork in an earthen cup of oil, most carefully tended, for if it
+went out, it could only be lighted by going down to the hall where a
+large lamp burned all night.
+
+Marietta laid her head upon the pillow and tried to sleep, repeating
+over and over again to herself that Zorzi was safe. But for a long time
+the thought of the mantle haunted her. Giovanni had found it, of course,
+and had brought it back with him. In the morning he would send for her
+and demand an explanation, and she would have none to give. She would
+have to admit that she had been in the laboratory--it mattered little
+when--and that she had forgotten her mantle there. It would be useless
+to deny it.
+
+Then all at once she looked the future in the face, and she saw a little
+light. She would refuse to answer Giovanni's questions, and when her
+father came back she would tell him everything. She would tell him
+bravely that nothing could make her marry Contarini, that she loved
+Zorzi and would marry him, or no one. The mantle would probably be
+forgotten in the angry discussion that would follow. She hoped so, for
+even her father would never forgive her for having gone alone at night
+to find Zorzi. If he ever found it out, he would make her spend the rest
+of her life in a convent, and it would break his heart that she should
+have thus cast all shame to the winds and brought disgrace on his old
+age. It never occurred to her that he could look upon it in any other
+way.
+
+She dreaded to think of the weeks that might pass before he returned. He
+had spoken of making a long journey and she knew that he had gone
+southward to Rimini to please the great Sigismondo Malatesta, who had
+heard of Beroviero's stained glass windows and mosaics in Florence and
+Naples, and would not be outdone in the possession of beautiful things.
+But no one knew more than that. She was only sure that he would come
+back some time before her intended marriage, and there would still be
+time to break it off. The thought gave her some comfort, and toward
+morning she fell into an uneasy sleep. Of all who had played a part in
+that eventful night she slept the least, for she had the most at stake;
+her fair name, Zorzi's safety, her whole future life were in the
+balance, and she was sure that Giovanni would send for her in the
+morning.
+
+She awoke weary and unrefreshed when the sun was already high. She
+scarcely had energy to clap her hands for Nella, and after the window
+was open she still lay listlessly on her pillow. The little woman looked
+at her rather anxiously but said nothing at first, setting the big dish
+with fruit and water on the table as usual, and busying herself with her
+mistress's clothes. She opened the great carved wardrobe, and she hung
+up some things and took out others, in a methodical way.
+
+"Where is your silk mantle?" she asked suddenly, as she missed the
+garment from its accustomed place.
+
+"I do not know," answered Marietta quite naturally, for she had expected
+the question.
+
+Her reply was literally true, since she had every reason for believing
+that Giovanni had brought it back with him in the night, but could have
+no idea as to where he had put it. Nella began to search anxiously,
+turning over everything in the wardrobe and the few things that hung
+over the chairs.
+
+"You could not have put it into the chest, could you?" she asked,
+pausing at the foot of the bed and looking at Marietta.
+
+"No. I am sure I did not," answered the girl. "I never do."
+
+"Then it has been stolen," said Nella, and her face darkened wrathfully.
+
+"How is such a thing possible?" asked Marietta carelessly. "It must be
+somewhere."
+
+This appeared to be certain, but Nella denied it with energy, her eyes
+fixed on Marietta almost as angrily as if she suspected her of having
+stolen her own mantle from herself.
+
+"I tell you it is not," she replied. "I have looked everywhere. It has
+been stolen."
+
+"Have you looked in your own room?" inquired Marietta indifferently, and
+turning her head on her pillow, as if she were tired of meeting Nella's
+eyes, as indeed she was.
+
+"My own room indeed!" cried the maid indignantly. "As if I did not know
+what is in my own room! As if your new silk mantle could hide itself
+amongst my four rags!"
+
+Why Nella and her kind, to this day, use the number four in contempt,
+rather than three or five, is a mystery of what one might call the
+psychical side of the Italian language. Marietta did not answer.
+
+"It has been stolen," Nella repeated, with gloomy emphasis. "I trust no
+one in this house, since your brother and his wife have been here, with
+their servants."
+
+"My sister-in-law was obliged to bring one of her women," objected
+Marietta.
+
+"She need not have brought that sour-faced shrew, who walks about the
+house all day repeating the rosary and poking her long nose into what
+does not belong to her. But I am not afraid of the Signor Giovanni. I
+will tell the housekeeper that your mantle has been stolen, and all the
+women's belongings shall be searched before dinner, and we shall find
+the mantle in that evil person's box."
+
+"You must do nothing of the sort," answered Marietta in a tone of
+authority.
+
+She sat up in bed at last, and threw the thick braid of hair behind her,
+as every woman does when her hair is down, if she means to assert
+herself.
+
+"Ah," cried Nella mockingly, "I see that you are content to lose your
+best things without looking for them! Then let us throw everything out
+of the window at once! We shall make a fine figure!"
+
+"I will speak to my brother about it myself," said Marietta.
+
+Indeed she thought it extremely likely that Giovanni would oblige her to
+speak of it within an hour.
+
+"You will only make trouble among the servants," she added.
+
+"Oh, as you please!" snorted Nella discontentedly. "I only tell you that
+I know who took it. That is all. Please to remember that I said so, when
+it is too late. And as for trouble, there is not one of us in the house
+who would not like to be searched for the sake of sending your
+sister-in-law's maid to prison, where she belongs!"
+
+"Nella," said Marietta, "I do not care a straw about the mantle. I want
+you to do something very important. I am sure that Zorzi has been
+arrested unjustly, and I do not believe that the Governor will keep him
+in prison. Can you not get your friend the gondolier to go to the
+Governor's palace before mid-day, and ask whether Zorzi is to be let
+out?"
+
+"Of course I can. By and by I will call him. He is busy cleaning the
+gondola now."
+
+Marietta had spoken quite quietly, though she had expected that her
+voice would shake, and she had been almost sure that she was going to
+blush. But nothing so dreadful happened, though she had prepared for it
+by turning her back on Nella. She sat on the edge of the bed, slowly
+feeling her way into her little yellow leathern slippers. It was a
+relief to know that even now she could speak of Zorzi without giving any
+outward sign of emotion, and she felt a little encouraged, as she began
+the dreaded day.
+
+She took a long time in dressing, for she expected at every moment that
+her sister-in-law's maid would knock at the door with a message from
+Giovanni, bidding her come to him before he went out. But no one came,
+though it was already past the hour at which he usually left the house.
+All at once she heard his unmistakable voice through the open window,
+and on looking out through the flowers she saw him standing at the open
+door of the glass-house, talking with the porter, or rather, giving
+instructions about the garden which Pasquale received in surly silence.
+
+Marietta listened in surprise. It seemed impossible that Giovanni should
+not take her to task at once if he had found the mantle. He was not the
+kind of man to put off accusing any one when he had proof of guilt and
+was sure that the law was on his side, and Marietta felt sure that the
+evidence against her was overwhelming, for she had yet to learn what
+amazing things can be done with impunity by people who have the
+reputation of perfect innocence.
+
+Giovanni was telling Pasquale, in a tone which every one might hear,
+that he had sent for a gardener, who would soon come with a lad to help
+him, that the two must be admitted at once, and that he himself would
+be within to receive them; but that no one else was to be allowed to go
+in, as he should be extremely busy all the morning. Having said these
+things three or four times over, in order to impress them on Pasquale's
+mind, he went in. The porter looked up at Marietta's window a moment,
+and then followed him and shut the door. It was clear that Giovanni had
+no intention of speaking to his sister before the mid-day meal. She
+breathed more freely, since she was to have a respite of several hours.
+
+When she was dressed, Nella called the gondolier from her own window,
+and met him in the passage when he came up. He at once promised to make
+inquiries about Zorzi and went off to the palace to find his friend and
+crony, the Governor's head boatman. The latter, it is needless to say,
+knew every detail of the supernatural rescue from the archers, who could
+talk of nothing else in spite of the Governor's prohibition. They sat in
+a row on the stone bench within the main entrance, a rueful crew, their
+heads bound up with a pleasing variety of bandages. In an hour the
+gondolier returned, laden with the wonderful story which Nella was the
+first, but not the last, to hear from him. Her brown eyes seemed to be
+starting from her head when she came back to tell it to her mistress.
+
+Marietta listened with a beating heart, though Nella began at once by
+saying that Zorzi had mysteriously disappeared, and was certainly not in
+prison. When all was told, she drew a long breath, and wished that she
+could be alone to think over what she had heard; but Nella's imagination
+was roused, and she was prepared to discuss the affair all the morning.
+The details of it had become more and more numerous and circumstantial,
+as the men with the bandaged heads recalled what they had seen and
+heard. The devils that had delivered Zorzi all had blue noses, brass
+teeth and fiery tails. A peculiarity of theirs was that they had six
+fingers with six iron claws on each hand, and that all their hoofs were
+red-hot. As to their numbers, they might be roughly estimated at a
+thousand or so, and their roaring was like the howling of the south wind
+and the breaking of the sea on the Lido in a winter storm. It was
+horrible to hear, and would alone have put all the armies of the
+Republic to ignominious flight. Nella thought these things very
+interesting. She wished that she might talk with one of the men who had
+seen a real devil.
+
+"I do not believe a word of all that nonsense," said Marietta. "The most
+important thing is that Zorzi got away from them and is not in prison."
+
+"If he escaped by selling his soul to the fiends," said Nella, shaking
+her head, "it is a very evil thing."
+
+Her mistress's disbelief in the blue noses and fiery tails was
+disconcerting, and had a chilling effect on Nella's talkative mood. The
+gondolier had crossed the bridge, to tell his story to Pasquale, whose
+view of the case seemed to differ from Nella's. He listened with
+approving interest, but without comment, until the gondolier had
+finished.
+
+"I could tell you many such stories," he said. "Things of this kind
+often happen at sea."
+
+"Really!" exclaimed the gondolier, who was only a boatman and regarded
+real sailors with a sort of professional reverence.
+
+"Yes," answered Pasquale. "Especially on Sundays. You must know that
+when the priests are all saying mass, and the people are all praying,
+the devils cannot bear it, and are driven out to sea for the day. Very
+strange things happen then, I assure you. Some day I will tell you how
+the boatswain of a ship I once sailed in rove the end of the devil's
+tail through a link of the chain, made a Flemish knot at the end to stop
+it, and let go the anchor. So the devil went to the bottom by the run.
+We unshackled the chain and wore the ship to the wind, and after that we
+had fair weather to the end of the voyage. It happened on a Sunday."
+
+"Marvellous!" cried the gondolier. "I should like to hear the whole
+story! But if you will allow me, I will go in and tell the Signor
+Giovanni what has happened, for he does not know yet."
+
+Pasquale grinned as he stood in the doorway.
+
+"He has given strict orders that no one is to be admitted this morning,
+as he is very busy."
+
+"But this is a very important matter," argued the gondolier, who wished
+to have the pleasure of telling the tale.
+
+"I cannot help it," answered Pasquale. "Those are his orders, and I must
+obey them. You know what his temper is, when he is not pleased."
+
+Just then a skiff came up the canal at a great rate, so that the quick
+strokes of the oar attracted the men's attention. They saw that the boat
+was one of those that could be hired everywhere in Venice. The oarsman
+backed water with a strong stroke and brought to at the steps before the
+glass-house.
+
+"Are you not Messer Angelo Beroviero's gondolier?" he inquired civilly.
+
+"Yes," answered the man addressed, "I am the head gondolier, at your
+service."
+
+"Thank you," replied the boatman. "I am to tell you that Messer Angelo
+has just arrived in Venice by sea, from Rimini, on board the _Santa
+Lucia_, a Neapolitan galliot now at anchor in the Giudecca. He desires
+you to bring his gondola at once to fetch him, and I am to bring over
+his baggage in my skiff."
+
+The gondolier uttered an exclamation of surprise, and then turned to
+Pasquale.
+
+"I go," he said. "Will you tell the Signor Giovanni that his father is
+coming home?"
+
+Pasquale grinned again. He was rarely in such a pleasant humour.
+
+"Certainly not," he answered. "The Signor Giovanni is very busy, and has
+given strict orders that he is not to be disturbed on any account."
+
+"That is your affair," said the gondolier, hurrying away.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+
+A little more than an hour later, the gondola came back and stopped
+alongside the steps of the house. The gondolier had made such haste to
+obey the summons that he had not thought of going into the house to give
+the servants warning, and as most of the shutters were already drawn
+together against the heat, no one had been looking out when he went
+away. He had asked Pasquale to tell the young master, and that was all
+that could be expected of him. There was therefore great surprise in the
+household when Angelo Beroviero went up the steps of his house, and his
+own astonishment that no one should be there to receive him was almost
+as great. The gondolier explained, and told him what Pasquale had said.
+
+It was enough to rouse the old man's suspicions at once. He had left
+Zorzi in charge of the laboratory, enjoining upon him not to encourage
+Giovanni to go there; but now Giovanni was shut up there, presumably
+with Zorzi, and had given orders that he was not to be disturbed. The
+gondolier had not dared to say anything about the Dalmatian's arrest,
+and Beroviero was quite ignorant of all that had happened. He was not a
+man who hesitated when his suspicions or his temper were at work, and
+now he turned, without even entering his home, and crossed the bridge
+to the glass-house. Pasquale was looking through the grating and saw him
+coming, and was ready to receive him at the open door. For the third
+time on that morning, he grinned from ear to ear. Beroviero was pleased
+by the silent welcome of his old and trusted servant.
+
+"You seem glad to see me again," he said, laying his hand kindly on the
+old porter's arm as he passed in.
+
+"Others will be glad, too," was the answer.
+
+As he went down the corridor Beroviero heard the sound of spades
+striking into the earth and shovelling it away. The gardener and his lad
+had been at work nearly two hours, and had turned up most of the earth
+in the little flower-beds to a depth of two or three feet during that
+time, while Giovanni sat motionless under the plane-tree, watching every
+movement of their spades. He rose nervously when he heard footsteps in
+the corridor, for he did not wish any one to find him seated there,
+apparently watching a most commonplace operation with profound interest.
+He had made a step towards the door of the laboratory, when he saw his
+father emerge from the dark passage. He was a coward, and he trembled
+from head to foot, his teeth chattered in his head, and the cold sweat
+moistened his forehead in an instant. The old man stood still four or
+five paces from him and looked from him to the men who had been digging.
+On seeing the master they stopped working and pulled off their knitted
+caps. As a further sign of respect they wiped their dripping faces with
+their shirt sleeves.
+
+"What are you doing here?" asked Beroviero in a tone of displeasure.
+"The garden was very well as it was."
+
+"I--I thought," stammered Giovanni, "that it would--that it might be
+better to dig it--"
+
+"It would not be better," answered the old man. "You may go," he added,
+speaking to the men, who were glad enough to be dismissed.
+
+Beroviero passed his son without further words and tried the door of the
+laboratory, but found it locked.
+
+"What is this?" he asked angrily. "Where is Zorzi? I told him not to
+leave you here alone."
+
+"You had great confidence in him," answered Giovanni, recovering himself
+a little. "He is in prison."
+
+He took the key from his wallet and thrust it into the lock as he spoke.
+
+"In prison!" cried Beroviero in a loud voice. "What do you mean?"
+
+Giovanni held the door open for him.
+
+"I will tell you all about Zorzi, if you will come in," he said.
+
+Beroviero entered, stood still a moment and looked about. Everything was
+as Zorzi had left it, but the glass-maker's ear missed the low roar of
+the furnace. Instinctively he made a step towards the latter, extending
+his hand to see whether it was already cold, but at that moment he
+caught sight of the silk mantle in the chair. He glanced quickly at his
+son.
+
+"Has Marietta been here with you this morning?" he asked sharply.
+
+"Oh no!" answered Giovanni contemptuously. "Zorzi stole that thing and
+had not time to hide it when they arrested him last night. I left it
+just where it was, that the Governor might see it."
+
+Beroviero's face changed slowly. His fiery brown eyes began to show a
+dangerous light and he stroked his long beard quickly, twisting it a
+little each time.
+
+"If you say that Zorzi stole Marietta's silk mantle," he said slowly,
+"you are either a fool or a liar."
+
+"You are my father," answered Giovanni in some perturbation. "I cannot
+answer you."
+
+Beroviero was silent for a long time. He took the mantle from the chair,
+examined it and assured himself that it was Marietta's own and no other.
+Then he carefully folded it up and laid it on the bench. His brows were
+contracted as if he were in great pain, and his face was pale, but his
+eyes were still angry.
+
+Giovanni knew the signs of his father's wrath and dared not speak to him
+yet..
+
+"Is this the evidence on which you have had my man arrested?" asked
+Beroviero, sitting down in the big chair and fixing his gaze on his son.
+
+"By no means," answered Giovanni, with all the coolness he could
+command. "If it pleases you to hear my story from the beginning I will
+tell you all. If you do not hear all, you cannot possibly understand."
+
+"I am listening," said old Beroviero, leaning back and laying his hands
+on the broad wooden arms of the chair.
+
+"I shall tell you everything, exactly as it happened," said Giovanni,
+"and I swear that it is all true."
+
+Beroviero reflected that in his experience this was usually the way in
+which liars introduced their accounts of events. For truth is like a
+work of genius: it carries conviction with it at once, and therefore
+needs no recommendation, nor other artificial support.
+
+"After you left," Giovanni continued, "I came here one morning, out of
+pure friendliness to Zorzi, and as we talked I chanced to look at those
+things on the shelf. When I admired them, he admitted rather reluctantly
+that he had made them, and other things which you have in your house."
+
+Beroviero gravely nodded his assent to the statement.
+
+"I asked him to make me something," Giovanni went on to say, "but he
+told me that he had no white glass in the furnace, and that what was
+there was the result of your experiments."
+
+Again Beroviero bent his head.
+
+"So I asked him to bring his blow-pipe to the main furnace room, where
+they were still working at that time, and we went there together. He at
+once made a very beautiful piece, and was just finishing it when a bad
+accident happened to him. Another man let his blow-pipe fly from his
+hand and it fell upon Zorzi's foot with a large lump of hot glass."
+
+Beroviero looked keenly at Giovanni.
+
+"You know as well as I that it could not have been an accident," he
+said. "It was done out of spite."
+
+"That may be," replied Giovanni, "for the men do not like him, as you
+know. But Zorzi accepted it as being an accident, and said so. He was
+badly hurt, and is still lame. Nella dressed the wound, and then
+Marietta came with her."
+
+"Are you sure Marietta came here?" asked Beroviero, growing paler.
+
+"Quite sure. They were on their way here together early in the morning
+when I stopped them, and asked Marietta where she was going, and she
+boldly said she was going to see Zorzi. I could not prevent her, and I
+saw them both go in."
+
+"Do you mean to say that although Zorzi was so badly hurt you did not
+have him brought to the house?"
+
+"Of course I proposed that at once," Giovanni answered. "But he said
+that he would not leave the furnace."
+
+"That was like him," said old Beroviero.
+
+"He knew what he was doing. It was on that same day that a night boy
+told me how he had seen you and Zorzi burying something in the
+laboratory the night before you left."
+
+Beroviero started and leaned forward. Giovanni smiled thoughtfully, for
+he saw how his father was moved, and he knew that the strongest part of
+his story was yet untold.
+
+"It would have been better to leave Paolo Godi's manuscript with me," he
+said, in a tone of sympathy. "I grew anxious for its safety as soon as I
+knew that Zorzi had charge of it. Yesterday morning I came in again.
+Zorzi was sitting on the working-stool, finishing a beautiful beaker of
+white glass."
+
+"White glass?" repeated Beroviero in evident surprise. "White glass?
+Here?"
+
+"Yes," answered Giovanni, enjoying his triumph. "I pointed out that when
+I had last come, there had been no white glass in the furnace. He
+answered that as one of the experiments had produced a beautiful red
+colour which he thought must be valuable, he had removed the crucible.
+He also showed me a specimen of it."
+
+"Is it here?" asked Beroviero anxiously. "Where is it?"
+
+Giovanni took the specimen from the table, for Zorzi had left it lying
+there, and he handed it to his father. The latter took it, held it up to
+the light, and uttered an exclamation of astonishment and anger.
+
+"There is only one way of making that," he said, without hesitation.
+
+"Yes," Giovanni answered coolly. "I supposed it was made according to
+one of your secrets."
+
+A quick look was the only reply to this speech. Giovanni continued.
+
+"I asked him to sell me the piece of glass he had been making when he
+came in, and at first he pretended that he was not sure whether you
+would allow it, but at last he took a piece of gold for it, and I was to
+have it as soon as it was annealed. When you see it, you will understand
+why I was so anxious to get it."
+
+"Where is it?" asked the old man. "Show it to me."
+
+Giovanni went to the other end of the annealing oven, and came back a
+moment later carrying the iron tray on which stood the pieces Zorzi had
+made on the previous morning. Beroviero looked at them critically, tried
+their weight, and noticed their transparency.
+
+"That is not my glass," he said in a tone of decision.
+
+"No," said Giovanni, "I saw that it was not your ordinary glass. It
+seems much better. Now Zorzi must have made it in a new crucible, and if
+he did, he made it with some secret of yours, for it is impossible that
+he should have discovered it himself. I said to myself that if he had
+made it, and the red glass there, he must have opened the book which you
+had buried together in this room, and that there was only one way of
+hindering him from learning everything in it, and ruining you and us by
+setting up a furnace of his own."
+
+Beroviero was looking hard at Giovanni, but he was now thoroughly
+alarmed for the safety of his treasured manuscript, and listened with
+attention and without any hostility. The proofs seemed at first sight
+very strong, and after all Zorzi was only a Dalmatian and a foreigner,
+who might have yielded to temptation.
+
+"What did you do?" asked Beroviero.
+
+Giovanni told him the truth, how he had written a letter to the
+Governor, and had seen him in person, as well as Jacopo Contarini.
+
+"Of course," Giovanni concluded, "you know best. If you find the book
+as you and he hid it together, he must have learned your secrets in some
+other way."
+
+"We can easily see," answered old Beroviero, rising quickly. "Come here.
+Get the crowbar from the corner, and help me to lift the stone."
+
+Giovanni took pains to look for the crowbar exactly where it was not,
+for he thought that this would divert any lingering suspicion from
+himself, but Beroviero was only annoyed.
+
+"There, there!" he cried, pointing. "It is in that corner. Quickly!"
+
+"It would be like the clever scoundrel to have copied what he wanted and
+then to have put the book back into the hiding-place," said Giovanni,
+pausing.
+
+"Do not waste words, my son!" cried Beroviero in the greatest anxiety.
+"Here! This is the stone. Get the crowbar in at this side. So. Now we
+will both heave. There! Wedge the stone up with that bit of wood. That
+will do. Now let us both get our hands under it, and lift it up."
+
+It was done, while he was speaking. A moment later Giovanni had scooped
+out the loose earth, and Beroviero was staring down into the empty hole,
+just as Giovanni had done on the previous night. Giovanni was almost
+consoled for his own disappointment when he saw his father's face.
+
+"It is certainly gone," he said. "You did not bury it deeper, did you?
+The soil is hard below."
+
+"No, no! It is gone!" answered the old man in a dull voice. "Zorzi has
+got it."
+
+"You see," said Giovanni mercilessly, "when I saw the red and white
+glass which he had made himself I was so sure of the truth that I acted
+quickly. I saw him arrested, and I do not think he could have had
+anything like a book with him, for he was in his doublet and hose. And
+as he is safe in prison now, he can be made to tell where he has put the
+thing. How big was it?"
+
+"It was in an iron box. It was heavy." Beroviero spoke in low tones,
+overcome by his loss, and by the apparent certainty that Zorzi had
+betrayed him.
+
+"You see why I should naturally suspect him of having stolen the
+mantle," observed Giovanni. "A man who would betray your confidence in
+such a way would do anything."
+
+"Yes, yes," answered the old master vaguely. "Yes--I must go and see him
+in prison. I was kind to him, and perhaps he may confess everything to
+me."
+
+"We might ask Marietta when she first missed her mantle," suggested
+Giovanni. "She must have noticed that it was gone."
+
+"She will not remember," answered Beroviero. "Let us go to the
+Governor's house at once. There is just time before mid-day. We can
+speak to Marietta at dinner."
+
+"But you must be tired, after your journey," objected Giovanni, with
+unusual concern for his father's comfort.
+
+"No. I slept well on the ship. I have done nothing to tire me. The
+gondola may be still there. Tell Pasquale to call it over, and we will
+go directly. Go on! I will follow you."
+
+Giovanni went forward, and Beroviero stayed a moment to look again at
+the beautiful objects of white glass, examining them carefully, one by
+one. The workmanship was marvellous, and he could not help admiring it,
+but it was the glass itself that disturbed him. It was like his own, but
+it was better, and the knowledge of its composition and treatment was a
+fortune. Then, too, the secret of dropping a piece of copper into a
+certain mixture in order to produce a particularly beautiful red colour
+was in the book, and the colour could not be mistaken and was not the
+one which Beroviero had been trying to produce. He shook his head sadly
+as he went out and locked the door behind him, convinced against his
+will that he had been betrayed by the man whom he had most trusted in
+the world.
+
+Pasquale watched the two, father and son, as they got into the gondola.
+Old Beroviero had not even looked at him as he came out, and it was not
+the porter's business to volunteer information, nor the gondolier's
+either. But when the latter was ordered to row to the Governor's house
+as fast as possible, he turned his head and looked at Pasquale, who
+slowly nodded his ugly head before going in again.
+
+On reaching their destination they were received at once, and the
+Governor told them what had happened, in as few words as possible.
+Nothing could exceed old Beroviero's consternation, and his son's
+disappointment. Zorzi had been rescued at the corner of San Piero's
+church by men who had knocked senseless the officer and the six archers.
+No one knew who these men were, nor their numbers, but they were clearly
+friends of Zorzi's who had known that he was to be arrested.
+
+"Accomplices," suggested Giovanni. "He has stolen a valuable book of my
+father's, containing secrets for making the finest glass. By this time
+he is on his way to Milan, or Florence."
+
+"I daresay," said the Governor. "These foreigners are capable of
+anything."
+
+"I had trusted him so confidently," said Beroviero, too much overcome to
+be angry.
+
+"Exactly," answered the Governor. "You trusted him too much."
+
+"I always thought so," put in Giovanni wisely.
+
+"There is nothing to be said," resumed Beroviero. "I do not wish to
+believe it of him, but I cannot deny the evidence of my own senses."
+
+"I have already sent a report to the Council of Ten," said the Governor.
+"The most careful search will be made in Venice for Zorzi and his
+companions, and if they are found, they will suffer for what they have
+done."
+
+"I hope so!" replied Giovanni heartily.
+
+"I remember that you recommended me to send a strong force," observed
+the Governor. "Perhaps you knew that a rescue was intended. Or you were
+aware that the fellow had daring accomplices."
+
+"I only suspected it," Giovanni answered. "I knew nothing. He was always
+alone."
+
+"He has hardly been out of my sight for five years," said old Beroviero
+sadly.
+
+He and his son took their leave, the Governor promising to keep them
+informed as to the progress of the search. At present nothing more could
+be done, for Zorzi has disappeared altogether, and old Beroviero was
+much inclined to share his son's opinion that the fugitive was already
+on his way to Milan, or Florence, where the possession of the secrets
+would insure him a large fortune, very greatly to the injury of
+Beroviero and all the glass-workers of Murano. The two men returned to
+the house in silence, for the elder was too much absorbed by his own
+thoughts to speak, and Giovanni was too wise to interrupt reflections
+which undoubtedly tended to Zorzi's destruction.
+
+Marietta was awaiting her father's return with much anxiety, for every
+one knew that the master had gone first to the laboratory and then to
+the Governor's palace, with Giovanni, so that the two must have been
+talking together a long time. Marietta waited with her sister-in-law in
+the lower hall, slowly walking up and down.
+
+When her father came up the low steps at last, she went forward to meet
+him, and a glance told her that he was in the most extreme anxiety. She
+took his hand and kissed it, in the customary manner, and he bent a
+little and touched her forehead with his lips. Then, to her surprise, he
+put one hand under her chin, and laid the other on the top of her head,
+and with gentle force made her look at him. Giovanni's wife was there,
+and most of the servants were standing near the foot of the staircase to
+welcome their master.
+
+Beroviero said nothing as he gazed into his daughter's eyes. They met
+his own fearlessly enough, and she opened them wide, as she rarely did,
+as if to show that she had nothing to conceal; but while he looked at
+her the blood rose blushing in her cheeks, telling that there was
+something to hide after all, and as she would not turn her eyes from
+his, they sparkled a little with vexation. Beroviero did not speak, but
+he let her go and went on towards the stairs, bending his head
+graciously to the other persons who were assembled to greet him.
+
+He was a man of strong character and of much natural dignity, far too
+proud to break down under a great loss or a bitter disappointment, and
+at dinner he sat at the head of the table and spoke affably of the
+journey he had made, explaining his unexpectedly early return by the
+fact that the Lord of Rimini had at once approved his designs and
+accepted his terms. Occasionally Giovanni asked a respectful question,
+but neither his wife nor Marietta said much during the meal. Zorzi was
+not mentioned.
+
+"You are welcome at my house, my son," Beroviero said, when they had
+finished, "but I suppose that you will go back to your own this
+evening."
+
+This was of course a command, and Marietta thought it a good omen. She
+had felt sure, when her father made her look at him, that Giovanni had
+spoken to him of the mantle, but in what way she could not tell.
+Perhaps, though it seemed incredible, he would not make such a serious
+case of it as she had expected.
+
+He said nothing, when he withdrew to rest during the hot hours of the
+afternoon, and she went to her own room as every one did at that time.
+Little as she had slept that night, she felt that it would be
+intolerable to lie down; so she took her little basket of beads and
+tried to work. Nella was dozing in the next room. From time to time the
+young girl leaned back in her chair with half-closed eyes, and a look of
+pain came over her face; then with an effort she took her needle once
+more, and picked out the beads, threading them one by one in a regular
+succession of colours.
+
+She was sure that if Zorzi were near he would have already found some
+means of informing her that he was really in safety. He must have
+friends of whom she knew nothing, and who had rescued him at great risk.
+He would surely trust one of them to take a message, or to make a signal
+which she could understand. She sat near the window, and the shutters
+were half closed so as to leave a space through which she could look
+out. From time to time she glanced at the white line of the footway
+opposite, over which the shadow of the glass-house was beginning to
+creep as the sun moved westward. But no one appeared. When it was cool
+Pasquale would probably come out and look three times up and down the
+canal as he always did. Giovanni would not go to the laboratory again.
+Perhaps her father would go, when, he was rested. Then, if she chose,
+she could take Nella and join him, and since there was to be an
+explanation with him, she would rather have it in the laboratory, where
+they would be quite alone.
+
+She had fully made up her mind to tell him at the very first interview
+that she would not marry Jacopo Contarini under any circumstances, but
+she had not decided whether she would add that she loved Zorzi. She
+hated anything like cowardice, and it would be cowardly to put off
+telling the truth any longer; but what concerned Zorzi was her secret,
+and she had a right to choose the most favourable moment for making a
+revelation on which her whole life, and Zorzi's also, must immediately
+depend. She felt weak and tired, for she had eaten little and hardly
+slept at all, but her determination was strong and she would act upon
+it.
+
+Occasionally she rose and moved wearily about the room, looked out
+between the shutters and then sat down again. She was in one of those
+moments of life in which all existence seems drawn out to an endless
+quivering thread, a single throbbing nerve stretched to its utmost point
+of strain.
+
+The silence was broken by a man's footstep in the passage, coming
+towards her door. A moment later she heard her father's voice, asking if
+he might come in. Almost at the same time she opened and Beroviero stood
+on the threshold. Nella had heard him speaking, too, and she started up,
+wide awake in an instant, and came in, to see if she were needed.
+
+"Will you go with me to the laboratory, my dear?" asked the old man
+quietly.
+
+She answered gravely that she would. There was no gladness in her tone,
+but no reluctance. She was facing the most difficult situation she had
+ever known, and perhaps the most dangerous.
+
+"Very well," said her father. "Let Nella give you your silk mantle and
+we will go at once."
+
+Before Marietta could have answered, even if she had known what to say,
+Nella had begun her tale of woe. The mantle was stolen, the sour-faced
+shrew of a maid who belonged to the Signor Giovanni's wife had stolen
+it, the house ought to be searched at once, and so much more to the same
+effect that Nella was obliged to pause for breath.
+
+"When did you miss it?" asked Beroviero, looking hard at the
+serving-woman.
+
+"This morning, sir. It was here last night, I am quite sure."
+
+The truthful little brown eyes did not waver.
+
+"And it cannot have been any one else," continued Nella. "This is a very
+evil person, sir, and she sometimes comes here with a message, or making
+believe that she is helping me. As if I needed help, indeed!"
+
+"Do not accuse people of stealing when you have no evidence against
+them," answered Beroviero somewhat sternly. "Give your mistress
+something else to throw over her."
+
+"Give me the green silk cloak," said Marietta, who was anxious not to be
+questioned about the mantle.
+
+"It has a spot in one corner," Nella answered discontentedly, as she
+went to the wardrobe.
+
+The spot turned out to be no bigger than the head of a pin. A moment
+later Marietta and her father were going downstairs. At the door of the
+glass-house Pasquale eyed them with approbation, and Marietta smiled and
+said a word to him as she passed. It seemed strange that she should have
+trusted the ugly old man with a secret which she dared not tell her own
+father.
+
+Beroviero did not speak as she followed him down the path and stood
+waiting while he unlocked the door. Then they both entered, and he laid
+his cap upon the table.
+
+"There is your mantle, my dear," he said quietly, and he pointed to it,
+neatly folded and lying on the bench.
+
+Marietta started, for she was taken unawares. While in her own room, her
+father had spoken so naturally as to make it seem quite possible that
+Giovanni had said nothing about it to him, yet he had known exactly
+where it was. He was facing her now, as he spoke.
+
+"It was found here last night, after Zorzi had been arrested," said
+Beroviero. "Do you understand?"
+
+"Yes," Marietta answered, gathering all her courage. "We will talk about
+it by and by. First, I have something to say to you which is much more
+important than anything concerning the mantle. Will you sit down,
+father, and hear me as patiently as you can?"
+
+"I am learning patience to-day," said Beroviero, sitting down in his
+chair. "I am learning also the meaning of such words as ingratitude,
+betrayal and treachery, which were never before spoken in my house."
+
+He sighed and leaned back, looking at the wall. Marietta dropped her
+cloak beside the mantle on the bench and began to walk up and down
+before him, trying to begin her speech. But she could not find any
+words.
+
+"Speak, child," said her father. "What has happened? It seems to me that
+I could bear almost anything now."
+
+She stood still a moment before him, still hesitating. She now saw that
+he had suffered more than she had suspected, doubtless owing to Zorzi's
+arrest and disappearance, and she knew that what she meant to tell him
+would hurt him much more.
+
+"Father," she began at last, with a great effort, "I know that what I am
+going to say will displease you very, very much. I am sorry--I wish it
+were not--"
+
+Suddenly her set speech broke down. She fell on her knees and took his
+hands, looking up beseechingly to his face.
+
+"Forgive me!" she cried. "Oh, for God's sake forgive me! I cannot marry
+Jacopo Contarini!"
+
+Beroviero had not expected that. He sat upright in the chair, in his
+amazement, and instinctively tried to draw his hands out of hers, but
+she held them fast, gazing earnestly up to him. His look was not angry,
+nor cold, nor did he even seem hurt. He was simply astonished beyond
+all measure by the enormous audacity of what she said. As yet he did not
+connect it with anything else.
+
+"I think you must be mad!"
+
+That was all he could find to say.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+
+Marietta shook her head. She still knelt at her father's feet, holding
+his hands.
+
+"I am not mad," she said. "I am in earnest. I cannot marry him. It is
+impossible."
+
+"You must marry him," answered Beroviero. "You are betrothed to him, and
+it would be an insult to his family to break off the marriage now.
+Besides, you have no reason to give, not the shadow of a reason."
+
+Marietta dropped his hands and rose to her feet lightly. She had
+expected a terrific outburst of anger, which would gradually subside,
+after which she hoped to find words with which to influence him. But
+like many hot-tempered men, he was sometimes unexpectedly calm at
+critical moments, as if he were really able to control his nature when
+he chose. She now almost wished that he would break out in a rage, as
+women sometimes hope we may, for they know it is far easier to deal with
+an angry man than with a determined one.
+
+"I will not marry him," she said at last, with strong emphasis, and
+almost defiantly.
+
+"My child," Beroviero answered gravely, "you do not know what you are
+saying."
+
+"I do!" cried Marietta with some indignation. "I have thought of it a
+long time. I was very wrong not to make up my mind from the beginning,
+and I ask your forgiveness. In my heart I always knew that I could not
+do it in the end, and I should have said so at once. It was a great
+mistake."
+
+"There is no question of your consent," replied Beroviero with
+conviction. "If girls were consulted as to the men they were to marry,
+the world would soon come to an end. This is only a passing madness, of
+which you should be heartily ashamed. Say no more about it. On the
+appointed day, the wedding will take place."
+
+"It will not," said Marietta firmly; "and you will do better to let it
+be known at once. It is of no use to take heaven to witness, and to make
+a solemn oath. I merely say that I will not marry Jacopo Contarini. You
+may carry me to the church, you may drag me before the altar, but I will
+resist. I will scream out that I will not, and the priest himself will
+protect me. That will be a much greater scandal than if you go to the
+Contarini family and tell them that your daughter is mad--if you really
+think I am."
+
+"You are undoubtedly beside yourself at the present moment," Beroviero
+answered. "But it will pass, I hope."
+
+"Not while I am alive, and I shall certainly resist to the end. It would
+be much wiser of you to send me to a convent at once, than to count on
+forcing me to go through the marriage ceremony."
+
+Beroviero stared at her, and stroked his beard. He began to believe that
+she might possibly be in earnest. Since she talked so quietly of going
+to a convent, a fate which most girls considered the most terrible that
+could be imagined. He bent his brows in thought, but watched her
+steadily.
+
+"You have not yet given me a single reason for all this wild talk," he
+said after a pause. "It is absurd to think that without some good cause
+you are suddenly filled with repulsion for marriage, or for Jacopo
+Contarini. I have heard of young women who were betrothed, but who felt
+a religious vocation, and refused to marry for that reason. It never
+seemed a very satisfactory one to me, for if there is any condition in
+which a woman needs religion, it is the marriage state."
+
+He paused in his speech, pleased with his own idea, in spite of all his
+troubles. Marietta had moved a few steps away from him and stood beside
+the table, looking down at the things on it, without seeing them.
+
+"But you do not even make religion a pretext," pursued her father. "Have
+you no reason to give? I do not expect a good one, for none can have any
+weight. But I should like to hear the best you have."
+
+"It is a very convincing one to me," Marietta replied, still looking
+down at the table. "But I think I had better not tell it to you to-day,"
+she added. "It would make you angry."
+
+"No," said Beroviero. "One cannot be angry with people who are really
+out of their senses."
+
+"I am not so mad as you think," answered the girl. "I have told you of
+my decision, because it was cowardly of me not to tell you what I felt
+before you went away. But it might be a mistake to tell you more to-day.
+You have had enough to harass you already, since you came back."
+
+"You are suddenly very considerate."
+
+"No, I have not been considerate. I could not be, without acting a lie
+to you, by letting you believe that I meant to marry Messer Jacopo, and
+I will not do that any longer, since I know that it is a lie. But I
+cannot see the use of saying anything more."
+
+"You had better tell me the whole truth, rather than let me think
+something that may be much worse," answered Beroviero, changing his
+attitude.
+
+"There is nothing in the truth of which I am ashamed," said Marietta,
+holding up her head proudly. "I have done nothing which I did not
+believe to be right, however strange it may seem to you."
+
+Once more their eyes met and they gazed steadily at each other; and
+again the blush spread over her cheeks. Beroviero put out his hand and
+touched the folded mantle.
+
+"Marietta," he said, "Zorzi has stolen my precious book of secrets, and
+has disappeared with it. They tell me that he also stole this mantle,
+for it was found here just after he was arrested last night. Is it true,
+or has he stolen my daughter instead?"
+
+Marietta's face had darkened when he began to accuse the absent man. At
+the question that followed she started a little, and drew herself up.
+
+"Zorzi is neither a thief nor a traitor," she answered. "If you mean to
+ask me whether I love him--is that what you mean?" She paused, with
+flashing eyes.
+
+"Yes," answered her father, and his voice shook.
+
+"Then yes! I love him with all my heart, and I have loved him long. That
+is why I will not marry Jacopo Contarini. You know my secret now."
+
+Beroviero groaned aloud, and his head sank as he grasped the arms of the
+chair. His daughter loved the man who had cheated him, betrayed him and
+robbed him. It was almost too much to bear. He had nothing to say, for
+no words could tell what he felt then, and he silently bowed his head.
+
+"As for the accusations you bring against him," Marietta said after a
+moment, "they are false, from first to last, and I can prove to you that
+every one of them is an abominable lie."
+
+"You cannot make that untrue which I have seen with my eyes."
+
+"I can, though Zorzi has the right to prove his innocence himself. I may
+say too much, for I am not as generous as he is. Do you know that when
+they tried to kill him in the furnace room, and lamed him for life, he
+told every one, even me, that it was an accident? He is so brave and
+noble that when he comes here again, he will not tell you that it was
+your own son who tried to rob you, who did everything in his power to
+get Zorzi away from this room, in order to search for your manuscript,
+and who at last, as everything else failed, persuaded the Governor to
+arrest him. He will not tell you that, and he does not know that before
+they had taken him twenty paces from the door, Giovanni was already
+here, locked in and trying the stones with a hammer to find out which
+one covered the precious book. Did Giovanni tell you that this morning?
+No. Zorzi would not tell you all the truth, and I know some of it even
+better than he. But Zorzi was always generous and brave."
+
+Beroviero had lifted his head now and was looking hard at her.
+
+"And your mantle? How came it here?" he asked.
+
+There was nothing to be done now, but to speak the truth.
+
+"It is here," said Marietta, growing paler, "because I came here,
+unknown to any one except Pasquale who let me in, because I came alone
+last night to warn the man I love that Giovanni had planned his
+destruction, and to save him if I could. In my haste I left the mantle
+in that chair of yours, in which I had been sitting. It slipped from my
+shoulders as I sat, and there Giovanni must have found it. If you had
+seen it there you would know that what I say is true."
+
+"I did see it," said Beroviero. "Giovanni left it where it was, and I
+folded it myself this morning. Zorzi did not steal the mantle. I take
+back that accusation."
+
+"Nor has he stolen your secrets. Take that back, too, if you are just.
+You always were, till now."
+
+"I have searched the place where he and I put the book, and it is not
+there."
+
+"Giovanni searched it twelve hours earlier, and it was already gone.
+Zorzi saved it from your son, and then, in his rage, I suppose that
+Giovanni accused him of stealing it. He may even have believed it, for I
+can be just, too. But it is not true. The book is safe."
+
+"Zorzi took it with him," said Beroviero.
+
+"You are mistaken. Before he was arrested, he said that I ought to know
+where it was, in case anything happened to him, in order to tell you."
+
+Beroviero rose slowly, staring at her, and speaking with an effort.
+
+"You know where it is? He told you? He has not taken it away?"
+
+Marietta smiled, in perfect certainty of victory.
+
+"I know where it is," she said.
+
+"Where is it?" he asked in extreme anxiety, for he could hardly believe
+what he heard.
+
+"I will not tell you yet," was the unexpected answer Marietta gave him.
+"And you cannot possibly find it unless I do."
+
+The veins stood out on the old man's temples in an instant, and the old
+angry fire came back to his eyes.
+
+"Do you dare to tell me that you will not show me the place where the
+book is, on the very instant?" he cried.
+
+"Oh yes," answered Marietta. "I dare that, and much more. I am not a
+coward like my brother, you know. I will not tell you the secret till
+you promise me something."
+
+"You are trying to sell me what is my own!" he answered angrily. "You
+are in league with Zorzi against me, to break off your marriage. But I
+will not do it--you shall tell me where the book is--if you refuse, you
+shall repent it as long as you live--I will--"
+
+He stopped short in his speech as he met her disdainful look.
+
+"You never threatened me before," she said. "Why do you think that you
+can frighten me?"
+
+"Give me what is mine," said the old man angrily. "That is all I demand.
+I am not threatening."
+
+"Set me free from Messer Jacopo, and you shall have it," answered
+Marietta.
+
+"No. You shall marry him."
+
+"I will not. But I will keep your book until you change your mind, or
+else--but no! If I gave it to Zorzi, he is so honourable that he would
+bring it back to you without so much as looking into it. I will keep it
+for myself. Or I will burn it!"
+
+She felt that if she had been a man, she could not have taken such an
+unfair advantage of him; but she was a defenceless girl, fighting for
+the liberty of her whole life. That might excuse much, she thought. By
+this time Beroviero was very angry; he stalked up and down beside the
+furnace, trailing his thin silk gown behind him, stroking his beard with
+a quick, impatient movement, and easting fierce glances at Marietta from
+time to time.
+
+He was not used to being at the mercy of circumstances, still less to
+having his mind made up for him by his son and his daughter. Giovanni
+had made him believe that Zorzi had turned traitor and thief, after five
+years of faithful service, and the conviction had cut him to the quick;
+and now Marietta had demonstrated Zorzi's innocence almost beyond doubt,
+but had made matters worse in other ways, and was taking the high hand
+with him. He did not realise that from the moment when she had boldly
+confessed what she had done and had declared her love for Zorzi, his
+confidence in her had returned by quick degrees, and that the atrocious
+crime of having come secretly at night to the laboratory had become in
+his eyes, and perhaps against his will, a mere pardonable piece of
+rashness; since if Zorzi was innocent, anything which could save him
+from unjust imprisonment might well be forgiven. He had borne what
+seemed to him very great misfortunes with fortitude and dignity; but his
+greatest treasures were safe, his daughter and Paolo Godi's manuscript,
+and he became furiously angry with Marietta, because she had him in her
+power.
+
+If a man is seated, a woman who intends to get the better of him
+generally stands; but if he loses his temper and begins to walk about,
+she immediately seats herself and assumes an exasperating calmness of
+manner. Accordingly Marietta sat down on a small chair near the table
+and watched her father in silence, persuaded that he would be obliged to
+yield in the end.
+
+"No one has ever dared to browbeat me in this way, in my whole life!"
+cried the old man fiercely, and his voice shook with rage.
+
+"Will you listen to me?" asked Marietta with sudden meekness.
+
+"Listen to you?" he repeated instantly. "Have I not been listening to
+you for hours?"
+
+"I do not know how long it may have been," answered the girl, "but I
+have much more to say. You are so angry that you will not hear me."
+
+"Angry? I? Are you telling me that I am so beside myself with rage, that
+I cannot understand reason?"
+
+"I did not say that."
+
+"You meant it, then! What did you say? You have forgotten what you said
+already! Just like a girl! And you pretend to argue with me, with your
+own father! It is beyond belief! Silence, I say! Do not answer me!"
+
+Marietta sat quite still, and began to look at her nails, which were
+very pink and well shaped. After a short silence Beroviero stopped
+before her.
+
+"Well!" he cried. "Why do you not speak?" His eyes blazed and he tapped
+the pavement with his foot. She raised her eyebrows, smiled a little
+wearily and sighed.
+
+"I misunderstood you," she said, with exasperating patience. "I thought
+you told me to be silent."
+
+"You always misunderstand me," he answered angrily and walking off
+again. "You always did, and you always will! I believe you do it on
+purpose. But I will make you understand! You shall know what I mean!"
+
+"I should be so glad," said Marietta. "Pray tell me what you mean."
+
+This was too much. He turned sharply in his walk.
+
+"I mean you to marry Contarini," he cried out, with a stamp of the foot.
+
+"And you mean never to see Paolo Godi's manuscript again," suggested
+Marietta quietly.
+
+"Perdition take the accursed thing!" roared the old man. "If I only knew
+where you have put it--"
+
+"It is where you can never, never find it," Marietta answered. "So it is
+of no use to be angry with me, is it? The more angry you are, the less
+likely it is that I shall tell you. But I will tell you something else,
+father--something you never understood before. My marriage was to have
+been a bargain, a great name for a fortune, half your fortune for a
+great name and an alliance with the Contarini. Perhaps one was worth the
+other. I know very little of such things. But it chances that I can have
+a word to say about the bargain, too. Would any one say that I was doing
+very wrong if I gave that book to my brother, for instance? Giovanni
+would not give it back to you, as Zorzi would, I am quite sure."
+
+"What abominable scheme is this?" Beroviero fairly trembled in his fury.
+
+"I offer you a simple bargain," Marietta answered, unmoved. "I will give
+you your manuscript for my freedom. Will you take it, father? Or will
+you insist upon trying to marry me by force, and let me give the book to
+Giovanni? Yes, that is what I will do. Then I will marry Zorzi, and go
+away."
+
+"Silence, child! You! Marry a stranger, a Dalmatian--a servant!"
+
+"But I love him. You may call him a servant, if you choose. It would
+make no difference to me if it were true. He would not be less brave,
+less loyal or less worthy if he were forced to clean your shoes in order
+to live, instead of sharing your art with you. Did he ever lie to you?"
+
+"No!" cried the old man. "I would have broken his bones!"
+
+"Did he ever betray a secret, since you know that the book is safe?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Have you trusted him far more than your own sons, for many years?"
+
+"Yes--of course--"
+
+"Then call him your servant if you like, and call your sons what you
+please," concluded Marietta, "but do not tell me that such a man is not
+good enough to be the husband of a glass-blower's daughter, who does not
+want a great name, nor a palace, nor a husband who sits in the Grand
+Council. Do not say that, father, for it would not be true--and you
+never told a lie in your life."
+
+"I tell you that marriage has nothing to do with all this!" He began
+walking again, to keep his temper hot, for he was dimly conscious that
+he was getting the worst of the encounter, and that her arguments were
+good.
+
+"And I tell you that a marriage that has nothing to do with love, and
+with honour, and with trust, is no marriage at all!" answered the girl.
+"Say what you please of customs, and traditions, and of station, and all
+that! God never meant that an innocent girl should be bought and sold
+like a slave, or a horse, for a name, nor for money, nor for any
+imaginary advantage to herself or to her father! I know what our
+privilege is, that the patricians may marry us and not lose their rank.
+I would rather keep my own, and marry a glass-worker, even if I were to
+be sold! Do you know what your money would buy for me in Venice? The
+privilege of being despised and slighted by patricians and great ladies.
+You know as well as I that it would all end there, in spite of all you
+may give. They want your money, you want their name, because you are
+rich and you have always been taught to think that the chief use of
+money is to rise in the world."
+
+"Will you teach me what I am to think?" asked old Beroviero, amazed by
+her sudden flow of words.
+
+"Yes," she answered, before he could say more. "I will teach you what
+you should think, what you should have always thought--a man as brave
+and upright and honest in everything as you are! You should think, you
+should know, that your daughter has a right to live, a right to be free,
+and a right to love, like every living creature God ever made!"
+
+"This is the most abominable rebellion!" retorted Beroviero. "I cannot
+imagine where you learned--"
+
+"Rebellion?" she cried, interrupting him in ringing tones. "Yes, it is
+rank rebellion, sedition and revolt against slavery, for life and love
+and freedom! You wonder where I have learned to turn and face this
+oppression of the world, instead of yielding to it, one more unhappy
+woman among the thousands that are bought and sold into wifehood every
+year! I have learned nothing, my heart needed no teaching for that! It
+is enough that I love an honest man truly--I know that it is wrong to
+promise my faith to another, and that it is a worse wrong in you to try
+to get that promise from me by force. A vow that could be nothing but a
+solemn lie! Would the ring on my finger be a charm to make me forget?
+Would the priest's words and blessing be a spell to root out of my heart
+what is the best part of my life? Better go to a nunnery, and weep for
+the truth, than to hope for peace in such a lie as that--better a
+thousand, thousand times!"
+
+She had risen now, and was almost eloquent, facing her father with
+flashing eyes.
+
+"Oh, you have always been kind to me, good to me, dear to me," she went
+on quickly. "It is only in this that you will not understand. Would it
+not hurt you a little to feel that you had sent me to a sort of living
+death from which I could never come back to life? That I was imprisoned
+for ever among people who looked down upon me and only tolerated me for
+my fortune's sake? Yet that would be the very least part of it all! I
+could bear all that, if it were for any good. But to become the
+creature, the possession, the plaything of a man I do not love, when I
+love another with all my heart--oh, no, no, no! You cannot ask me that!"
+
+His anger had slowly subsided, and he was listening now, not because she
+had him in her power, but because what she said was true. For he was a
+just and honourable man.
+
+"I wish that you might have loved any man but Zorzi," he said, almost as
+if speaking to himself.
+
+"And why another?" she asked, following up her advantage instantly. "You
+would have had me marry a Trevisan, perhaps, or the son of any of the
+other great glass-makers? Is there one of them who can compare with
+Zorzi as an artist, let alone as a man? Look at those things he has
+made, there, on the table! Is there a man living who could make one of
+them? Not you, yourself; you know it better than I do!"
+
+"No," answered Beroviero. "That is true. Nor is there any one who could
+make the glass he used for them without the secrets that are in the
+book--and more too, for it is better than my own."
+
+Marietta looked at him in surprise. This was something she had not
+known.
+
+"Is it not your glass?" she asked.
+
+"It is better. He must have added something to the composition set down
+in the book."
+
+"You believe that although the book itself is safe, he has made use of
+it."
+
+"Yes. I cannot see how it could be otherwise."
+
+"Was the book sealed?"
+
+"Yes, and looked in an iron box. Here is the key. I always wear it."
+
+He drew out the small iron key, and showed it to her.
+
+"If you find the box locked, and the seals untouched, will you believe
+that Zorzi has not opened the manuscript?" asked Marietta.
+
+"Yes," answered Beroviero after a moment's thought. "I showed him the
+seal, and I remember that he said a man might make one like it. But I
+should know by the wax. I am sure I could tell whether it had been
+tampered with. Yes, I should believe he had not opened the book, if I
+found it as I left it."
+
+"Then you will be convinced that Zorzi is altogether innocent of all the
+charges Giovanni made against him. Is that true?"
+
+"Yes. If he has learnt the art in spite of the law, that is my fault,
+not his. He was unwise in selling the beaker to Giovanni. But what is
+that, after all?"
+
+"Promise me then," said Marietta, laying her hand upon her father's arm,
+"promise me that if Zorzi comes back, he shall be safe, and that you
+will trust him as you always have."
+
+"Though he dares to be in love with you?"
+
+"Though I dare to love him--or apart from that. Say that if it were not
+for that, you would treat him just as before you went away."
+
+"Yes, I would," answered Beroviero thoughtfully.
+
+"The book is there," said Marietta.
+
+She pointed to the big earthen jar that contained the broken glass, and
+her father's eyes followed her land.
+
+"It is for Zorzi's sake that I tell you," she continued. "The book is
+buried deep down amongst the broken bits. It will take a long time to
+get it out. Shall I call Pasquale to help us?"
+
+"No," answered her father.
+
+He went to the other end of the room and brought back the crowbar. Then
+he placed himself in a good position for striking, and raised the iron
+high in air with both his hands.
+
+"Stand back!" he cried as Marietta came nearer.
+
+The first blow knocked a large piece of earthenware from the side of the
+strong jar, and a quantity of broken red glass poured out, as red as
+blood from a wound, and fell with little crashes upon the stone floor.
+Beroviero raised the crowbar again and again and brought it down with
+all his might. At the fourth stroke the whole jar went to pieces,
+leaving nothing but a red heap of smashed glass, round about which lay
+the big fragments of the jar. In the middle of the heap, the corner of
+the iron box appeared, sticking up like a black stone.
+
+"At last!" exclaimed the old man, flushed with satisfaction. "Giovanni
+had not thought of this."
+
+He cleared away the shivers and gently pushed the box out of its bed
+with the crowbar. He soon got it out on the floor, and with some
+precaution, lest any stray splinter should cut his fingers, he set it
+upon the table. Then he took the key from his neck and opened it.
+
+Marietta's belief in Zorzi had never wavered, from the first, but
+Beroviero was more than half sure that the book had been opened. He took
+it up with care, turned it over and over in his hands, scrutinised the
+seal, the strings, the knots, and saw that they were all his own.
+
+"It is impossible that this should have been undone and tied up again,"
+he said confidently.
+
+"Any one could see that at once," Marietta answered. "Do you believe
+that Zorzi is innocent?"
+
+"I cannot help believing. But I do not understand. There is the red
+glass, made by dropping the piece of copper into it. That is in the
+book, I am sure."
+
+"It was an accident," said Marietta. "The copper ladle fell into the
+glass. Zorzi told me about it."
+
+"Are you sure? That is possible. The very same thing happened to Paolo
+Godi, and that was how he discovered the colour. But there is the white
+glass, which is so like mine, though it is better. That may have been an
+accident too. Or the boy may have tried an experiment upon mine by
+adding something to it."
+
+"It is at least sure that the book has not been touched, and that is the
+main thing. You admit that he is quite innocent, do you not? Quite,
+quite innocent?"
+
+"Yes, I do. It would be very unjust not to admit it."
+
+Marietta drew a long breath of relief, for she had scarcely hoped to
+accomplish so much in so short a time. The rest would follow, she felt
+sure.
+
+"I would give a great deal to see Zorzi at once," said her father, at
+last, as he replaced the manuscript in the box and shut the lid.
+
+"Not half as much as I would!" Marietta almost laughed, as she spoke.
+"Father," she added gently, and resting one hand upon his shoulder, "I
+have given you back your book, I have given you back the innocent man
+you trusted, instead of the villain invented by my brother. What will
+you give me?"
+
+She smiled and rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. He shook his head
+a little, and would not answer.
+
+"Would it be so hard to say that you ask another year's time before the
+marriage? And then, you know, you could ask it again, and they would
+soon be tired of waiting and would break it off themselves."
+
+"Do not suggest such woman's tricks to me," answered her father; but he
+could not help smiling.
+
+"Oh, you may find a better way," Marietta said. "But that would be so
+easy, would it not? Your daughter is so young--her health is somewhat
+delicate--"
+
+She was interrupted by a knock at the door, and Pasquale entered.
+
+"The Signor Giovanni is without, sir," said the porter. "He desires to
+take leave of you, as he is returning to his own house to-day."
+
+"Let him come in," said Beroviero, his face darkening all at once.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+
+Giovanni entered the laboratory confidently, not even knowing that
+Marietta was with her father, and not suspecting that he could have
+anything to fear from her.
+
+"I have come to take my leave of you, sir," he began, going towards his
+father at once.
+
+He did not see the broken jar, which was at some distance from the door.
+
+"Before you go," said Beroviero coldly, "pray look at this."
+
+Giovanni saw the box on the table, but did not understand, as he had
+never seen it before. His father again took the key from his neck and
+opened the casket.
+
+"This is Paolo Godi's manuscript," he said, without changing his tone.
+"You see, here is the book. The seal is unbroken. It is exactly as I
+left it when Zorzi and I buried it together. You suspected him of having
+opened it, and I confess that you made me suspect him, too. For the sake
+of justice, convince yourself."
+
+Giovanni's face was drawn with lines of vexation and anxiety.
+
+"It was hidden in the jar of broken glass," Beroviero explained. "You
+did not think of looking there."
+
+"No--nor you, sir."
+
+"I mean that you did not look there when you searched for it alone,
+immediately after Zorzi was arrested."
+
+Giovanni was pale now, but he raised both hands and turned up his eyes
+as if calling upon heaven to witness his innocence.
+
+"I swear to you," he began, "on the body of the blessed Saint Donatus--"
+
+Beroviero interrupted him.
+
+"I did not ask you to swear by anything," he said. "I know the truth.
+The less you say of what has happened, the better it will be for you in
+the end."
+
+"I suppose my sister has been poisoning your mind against me as usual.
+Can she explain how her mantle came here?"
+
+"It does not concern you to know how it came here," answered Beroviero.
+"By your wholly unjustifiable haste, to say nothing worse, you have
+caused an innocent man to be arrested, and his rescue and disappearance
+have made matters much worse. I do not care to ask what your object has
+been. Keep it to yourself, pray, and do not remind me of this affair
+when we meet, for after all, you are my son. You came to take your
+leave, I think. Go home, then, by all means."
+
+Without a word, Giovanni went out, biting his thin lip and reflecting
+mournfully upon the change in his position since he had talked with his
+father in the morning. While they had been speaking Marietta had gone to
+a little distance, affecting to unfold the mantle and fold it again
+according to feminine rules. As she heard the door shut again she
+glanced at her father's face, and saw that he was looking at her.
+
+"I told you that I was learning patience to-day," he said. "I longed to
+lay my hands on him."
+
+"You frightened him much more by what you said," answered Marietta.
+
+"Perhaps. Never mind! He is gone. The question is how to find Zorzi.
+That is the first thing, and then we must undo the mischief Giovanni has
+done."
+
+"I think Pasquale must have some clue by which we may find Zorzi,"
+suggested Marietta.
+
+Pasquale was called at once. He stood with his legs bowed, holding his
+old cap in both hands, his small bloodshot eyes fixed on his master's
+face with a look of inquiry. He was more than ever like a savage old
+watch-dog.
+
+"Yes, sir," he said in answer to Beroviero's question, "I can tell you
+something. Two men were looking on last night when the Signor Giovanni
+made me open the door to the Governor's soldiers. They wore hoods over
+their eyes, but I am certain that one of them was that Greek captain who
+came here one morning before you went away. When Zorzi came out, the
+Greek walked off, up the footway and past the bridge. The other waited
+till they were all gone and till Signor Giovanni had come in. He
+whispered quickly in my ear, 'Zorzi is safe.' Then he went after the
+others. I could see that he had a short staff hidden under his cloak,
+and that he was a man with bones like an ox. But he was not so big a
+man as the captain. Then I knew that two such men, who were seamen
+accustomed to using their hands, quick on their feet and seeing well in
+the dark, as we all do, could pitch the officer over the tower of San
+Piero, if they chose, with all his sleazy crew of lubberly, dressed-up
+boobies, armed with overgrown boat-hooks. This I thought, and so it
+happened. That is what I know."
+
+"But why should Captain Aristarchi care whether Zorzi were arrested or
+not?" asked Beroviero.
+
+"This the saints may know in paradise," answered Pasquale, "but not I."
+
+"Has the captain been here again?" asked Beroviero, completely puzzled.
+
+"No, sir. But I should have told you that one morning there came a
+patrician of Venice, Messer Zuan Venier, who wished to see you, being a
+friend of Messer Jacopo Contarini, and when he heard that you were away
+he desired to see Zorzi, and stayed some time."
+
+"I know him by name," said Beroviero, nodding. "But there can be no
+connection between him and this Greek."
+
+Pasquale snarled and showed his teeth at the mere idea, for his instinct
+told him that Aristarchi was a pirate, or had been one, and he was by no
+means sure that the Greek had carried off Zorzi for any good purpose.
+
+"Pasquale," said Beroviero, "it is long since you have had a holiday.
+Take the skiff to-morrow morning, and go over to Venice. You are a
+seaman and you can easily find out from the sailors about the Giudecca
+who this Aristarchi really is, and where he lives. Then try to see him
+and tell him that Zorzi is innocent of all the charges against him, and
+that if he will come back I will protect him. Can you do that?"
+
+Pasquale gave signs of great satisfaction, by growling and grinning at
+the same time, and his lids drew themselves into a hundred wrinkles till
+his eyes seemed no bigger than two red Murano beads.
+
+Then Beroviero and Marietta went back to the house, and the young girl
+carried the folded mantle under her cloak. Before going to her own room
+she opened it out, as if it had been worn, and dropped it behind a
+bench-box in the large room, as if it had fallen from her shoulders
+while she had been sitting there; and in due time it was found by one of
+the men-servants, who brought it back to Nella.
+
+"You are so careless, my pretty lady!" cried the serving-woman, holding
+up her hands.
+
+"Yes," answered Marietta, "I know it."
+
+"So careless!" repeated Nella. "Nothing has any value for you! Some day
+you will forget your face in the mirror and go away without it, and then
+they will say it is Nella's fault!"
+
+Marietta laughed lightly, for she was happy. It was clear that
+everything was to end well, though it might be long before her father
+would consent to let her marry Zorzi. She felt quite sure that he was
+safe, though he might lie far away by this time.
+
+Beroviero returned at once to the Governor's house, and did his best to
+undo the mischief. But to his unspeakable disappointment he found that
+the Governor's report had already gone to the Council of Ten, so that
+the matter had passed altogether out of his hands. The Council would
+certainly find Zorzi, if he were in Venice, and within two or three
+days, at the utmost, if not within a few hours; for the Signors of the
+Night were very vigilant and their men knew every hiding-place in
+Venice. Zorzi, said the Governor, would certainly be taken into custody
+unless he had escaped to the mainland. Beroviero could have wrung his
+hands for sheer despair, and when he told Marietta the result of his
+second visit to the Governor, her heart sank, for Zorzi's danger was
+greater than ever before, and it was not likely that a man who had been
+so mysteriously rescued, to the manifest injury and disgrace of those
+who were taking him to prison, could escape torture. He would certainly
+be suspected of connivance with secret enemies of the Republic.
+
+Beroviero bethought him of the friends he had in Venice, to whom he
+might apply for help in his difficulty. In the first place there was
+Messer Luigi Foscarini, a Procurator of Saint Mark; but he had not been
+long in office, and he would probably not wish to be concerned in any
+matter which tended to oppose authority. And there was old Contarini,
+who was himself one of the Ten; Beroviero knew his character well and
+judged that he would not be lenient towards any one who had been
+forcibly rescued, no matter how innocent he might be. Moreover the law
+against foreigners who attempted to work in glass was in force, and very
+stringent. Contarini, like many over-wise men who have no control
+whatever over their own children, was always for excessive severity in
+all processes of the law. Beroviero thought of some others, but against
+each one he found some real objection.
+
+Sitting in his chair after supper, he talked earnestly of the matter
+with Marietta, who sat opposite him with her work, by the large brass
+lamp. For the present he had almost forgotten the question of her
+marriage, for all his former affection for Zorzi had returned, with the
+conviction of his innocence, and the case was very urgent. That very
+night Zorzi might be found, and on the next morning he might be brought
+before the Ten to be examined. Marietta thought with terror of the awful
+tales Nella had told her about the little torture chamber behind the
+hall of the Council.
+
+"Who is that Messer Zuan Venier, who came to see Zorzi?" asked Marietta
+suddenly.
+
+"A young man who fought very bravely in the East, I believe," answered
+Beroviero. "His father was the Admiral of the Republic for some time."
+
+"He has talked with Zorzi," said Marietta. "Pasquale said so. He must
+have liked him, of course; and none of the other patricians you have
+mentioned have ever seen him. Messer Zuan is not in office, and has
+nothing to lose. Perhaps he will be willing to use his influence with
+his father. If only the Ten could know the whole truth before Zorzi is
+brought before them, it would be very different."
+
+Beroviero saw that there was some wisdom in applying to a younger man,
+like Zuan Venier, who had nothing at stake, and since Venier had come to
+visit him, there could be nothing strange in his returning the courtesy
+as soon as he conveniently could.
+
+On the following morning therefore the master betook himself to Venice
+in his gondola. Pasquale was already gone in the skiff, on the errand
+entrusted to him. He had judged it best not to put on his Sunday
+clothes, nor his clean shirt, nor to waste time in improving his
+appearance at the barber's, for he had been shaved on Saturday night as
+usual and the week was not yet half over. Hidden in the bow of the
+little boat there lay his provision for the day, half a loaf of bread, a
+thick slice of cheese and two onions, with an earthen bottle of water.
+With these supplies the old sailor knew that he could roam the canals of
+Venice for twenty-four hours if he chose, and he also had some money in
+case it should seem wise to ply an acquaintance with a little strong
+wine in order to promote conversation.
+
+The morning was sultry and a light haze hung over the islands at
+sunrise, which is by no means usual. Pasquale sniffed the air as he
+rowed himself through the narrow canals. There was a mingled smell of
+stagnant salt water, cabbage stalks, water-melons and wood smoke long
+unfamiliar to him, and reminding him pleasantly of his childhood.
+Wherever a bit of stone pier ran along by an open space, scores of
+olive-skinned boys were bathing, and as he passed they yelled at him and
+splashed him. Many a time he had done the same, long ago, and had
+sometimes got a sharp knock from the blade of an oar for his pains.
+
+The high walls made brown shadows, that struck across the greenish
+water, shivering away to long streaks of broken light and shade, and
+trying to dance and rock themselves together for a moment before a
+passing boat disturbed them again. In the shade boats were moored, laden
+with fresh vegetables, and with jars of milk brought in from the islands
+and the mainland before dawn. From open windows, here and there,
+red-haired women with dark eyes looked down idly, and breathed the
+morning air for a few minutes before beginning their household work. The
+bells of Saint John and Saint Paul were ringing to low mass, and a few
+old women with black shawls over their heads, and wooden clogs on their
+feet, made a faint clattering as they straggled to the door.
+
+It was long since Pasquale had been in Venice. He could not remember
+exactly how many years had passed, but the city had changed little, and
+still after many centuries there is but little and slow change. The ways
+and turnings were as familiar to him as ever, and would have been
+unforgotten if he had never taken the trouble to cross the lagoon again,
+to his dying day. The soft sounds, the violent colours, the splendid
+gloom of deep-arched halls that went straight from the great open door
+at the water's edge to the shadowy heart of the palace within; the
+boatmen polishing the metal work of their gondolas with brick dust and
+olive oil; the servants, still in rough working clothes, sweeping the
+steps, and trimming off the charred hemp-wicks of torches that had been
+used in the night; the single woman's voice far overhead that broke the
+silence of some narrow way, singing its song for sheer gladness of an
+idle heart; it was all as it used to be, and Pasquale had a dim
+consciousness that he loved it better than his dreary little den in
+Murano, and better than his Sunday walk as far as San Donato, when all
+the handsome women and pretty girls of the smaller people were laughing
+away the cool hours and showing off their little fineries. It was but a
+vague suggestion of a sentiment with him, and no more. He knew that he
+should starve if he came back to Venice, and what was the pleasant smell
+of the cabbage stalks and water-melons that it should compare with the
+security of daily bread and lodging, with some money to spare, and two
+suits of clothes every year, which his master gave him in return for
+keeping a single door shut?
+
+He pushed out upon the Grand Canal, where as yet there were few boats
+and no gondolas at all, and soon he turned the corner of the Salute and
+rowed out slowly upon the Giudecca, where the merchant vessels lay at
+anchor, large and small, galliots and feluccas and many a broad
+'trabacolo' from the Istrian coast, with huge spreading bows, and hawse
+ports painted scarlet like great red eyes. The old sailor's heart was
+gladdened by the sight of them, and as he rested on his single oar, he
+gently cursed the land, and all landlocked places, and rivers and fresh
+water, and all lakes and inland canals, and wished himself once more on
+the high seas with a stout vessel, a lazy captain, a dozen hard-fisted
+shipmates and a quarter of a century less to his account of years.
+
+He had been dreaming a little, and now he bent to the oar again and sent
+the skiff quietly along by the pier, looking out for any idle seamen who
+might be led into conversation. Before long he spied a couple, sitting
+on the edge of the stones near some steps and fishing with long canes.
+He passed them, of course, without looking at them, lest they should
+suspect that he had come their way purposely, and he made the skiff fast
+by the stair, after which he sat down on a thwart and stared vacantly at
+things in general, being careful not to bestow a glance on the two men.
+Presently one of them caught a small fish, and Pasquale judged that the
+moment for scraping an acquaintance had begun. He turned his head and
+watched how the man unhooked the fish and dropped it flapping into a
+basket made of half-dried rushes.
+
+"There are no whales in the canal," he observed. "There are not even
+tunny fish. But what there is, it seems that you know how to catch."
+
+"I do what I can, according to my little skill," answered the man. "It
+passes the time, and then it is always something to eat with the
+bread."
+
+"Yes," Pasquale answered. "A roasted fish on bread with a little oil is
+very savoury. As for passing the time, I suppose that you are looking
+for a ship."
+
+"Of course," the man replied. "If we had a ship we should not be here
+fishing! It is a bad time of the year, you must know, for most of the
+Venetian vessels are at sea, and we do not care to ship with any
+Neapolitan captain who chances to have starved some of his crew to
+death!"
+
+"I have heard of a rich Greek merchant captain who has been in Venice
+some time," observed Pasquale carelessly. "He will be looking out for a
+crew before long."
+
+"Is Captain Aristarchi going to sea at last?" asked the man who had not
+spoken yet. "Or do you mean some other captain?"
+
+"That is the name, I believe," said Pasquale. "It was an outlandish name
+like that. Do you ever see him about the docks? I saw him once, a piece
+of man, I tell you, with bones like a bull and a face like a bear."
+
+"He is not often seen," answered the man who had spoken last. "That is
+his ship; over there, between the 'trabacolo' and the dismasted hulk."
+
+"I see her," returned Pasquale at once. "A thorough Greek she is, too,
+by her looks, but well kept enough if she is only, waiting for a cargo,
+with two or three hands on board."
+
+The men laughed a little at Pasquale's ignorance concerning the vessel.
+
+"She has a full crew," said one. "She is always ready for sea at any
+moment, with provisions and water. No one can understand what the
+captain means, nor why he is here, nor why he is willing to pay twenty
+men for doing nothing."
+
+"Does the captain live on board of her?" inquired Pasquale
+indifferently.
+
+"Not he! He is amusing himself in Venice. He has hired a house by the
+month, not far from the Baker's Bridge, and there he has been living for
+a long time."
+
+"He must be very rich," observed Pasquale, who had found out what he
+wished to know, but was too wise to let the conversation drop too
+abruptly. "From what you say, however, he needs no more hands on his
+vessel," he added.
+
+"It is not for us," answered the man. "We will ship with a captain we
+know, and with shipmates from our own country, who are Christians and
+understand the compass."
+
+This he said because all sea-going vessels did not carry a compass in
+those days.
+
+"And until we can pick up a ship we like," added the other man, "we will
+live on bread and water, and if we can catch a fish now and then in the
+canal, so much the better."
+
+Pasquale cast off the bit of line that moored his skiff, shipped his
+single oar, and with a parting word to the men, he pushed off.
+
+"You are quite right!" he said. "Eh! A roast fish is a savoury thing."
+
+They nodded to him and again became intent on their pastime. Pasquale
+rowed faster than before, and he passed close under the stern of the
+Greek vessel. The mate was leaning over the taffrail under the poop
+awning. He was dressed in baggy garments of spotless white, his big blue
+cap was stuck far back on his head, and his strong brown arms were bare
+to the elbow. He looked as broad as he was long.
+
+"Is the captain on board, sir?" asked Pasquale, at a venture, but
+looking at the mate with interest.
+
+He expected that he would answer the question in the negative, by
+sticking out his jaw and throwing his head a little backward. To his
+surprise the mate returned his gaze a moment, and then stood upright.
+
+"Keep under the counter," he said in fairly good Italian. "I will go and
+see if the captain is in his cabin."
+
+Pasquale waited, and in a few moments the mate returned, dropped a
+Jacob's ladder over the taffrail and made it fast on board. Pasquale
+hitched the painter of the skiff to the end that hung down, and went up
+easily enough in spite of his age and stiffened joints. He climbed over
+the rail and stood beside the mate. The instant his feet touched the
+white deck he wished he had put on his Sunday hose and his clean shirt.
+He touched his cap, as he assuredly would not have done ashore, to any
+one but his master.
+
+"You seem to have been a sailor," said the Greek mate, in an approving
+tone.
+
+"Yes, sir," answered Pasquale. "Is Zorzi still safe?"
+
+"The captain will tell you about Zorzi," was the mate's answer, as he
+led the way.
+
+Aristarchi was seated with one leg under him on a inroad transom over
+which was spread a priceless Persian silk carpet, such as the richest
+patrician in Venice would have hung on the wall like a tapestry of great
+value. He looked at Pasquale, and the latter heard the door shut behind
+him. At the same instant a well-known voice greeted him by name, as
+Zorzi himself appeared from the inner cabin.
+
+"I did not expect to find you so soon," said the porter with a growl of
+satisfaction.
+
+"I wish you had found him sooner," laughed Aristarchi carelessly. "And
+since you are here, I hope you will carry him off with you and never let
+me see his face again, till all this disturbance is over! I would rather
+have carried off the Doge himself, with his precious velvet night-cap on
+his head, than have taken this fellow the other night. All Venice is
+after him. I was just going to drown him, to get rid of him."
+
+There was a sort of savage good-nature in the Greek's tone which was
+reassuring, in spite of his ferocious looks and words.
+
+"You would have been hanged if you had," observed Pasquale in answer to
+the last words.
+
+Zorzi was evidently none the worse for what had happened to him since
+his arrest and unexpected liberation. He was not of the sort that suffer
+by the imagination when there is real danger, for he had plenty of good
+sense. Pasquale told him that the master had returned.
+
+"We knew it yesterday," Zorzi answered. "The captain seems to know
+everything."
+
+"Listen to me, friend porter," Aristarchi said. "If you will take this
+young fellow with you I shall be obliged to you. I took him from the
+Governor's men out of mere kindness of heart, because I liked him the
+first time I saw him, but the Ten are determined to get him into their
+hands, and I have no fancy to go with him and answer for the half-dozen
+crowns my mate and I broke in that frolic at Murano."
+
+Pasquale's small eyes twinkled at the thought of the discomfited
+archers.
+
+"We have changed our lodgings three times since yesterday afternoon,"
+continued Aristarchi, "and I am tired of carrying this lame
+bottle-blower up and down rope ladders, when the Signors of the Night
+are at the door. So drop him over the rail into your boat and let me
+lead a peaceful life."
+
+"Like an honest merchant captain as you are," added Pasquale with a
+grin. "We have been anxious for you," he added, looking at Zorzi. "The
+master is in Venice this morning, to see his friends on your behalf, I
+think."
+
+"If we go back openly," said Zorzi, "we may both be taken at any
+moment."
+
+"If they catch me," answered Pasquale, "they will heave me overboard. I
+am not worth salting. But they need not catch either of us. Once in the
+laboratory at Murano, they will never find you. That is the one place
+where they will not look for you."
+
+The mate put his head down through the small hatch overhead.
+
+"I do not like the look of a boat that has just put off from Saint
+George's," he said.
+
+Aristarchi sprang to his feet.
+
+"Pick him up and drop him into the porter's skiff," he said. "I am sick
+of dancing with the fellow in my arms."
+
+With incredible ease Aristarchi took Zorzi round the waist, mounted the
+cabin table and passed him up through the hatch to the mate, who had
+already brought him to the Jacob's ladder at the stern before Pasquale
+could get there by the ordinary way.
+
+"Quick, man!" said the mate, as the old sailor climbed over the rail.
+
+At the same time he slipped the bight of short rope round Zorzi's body
+under his arms and got a turn round the rail with both parts, so as to
+lower him easily. Zorzi helped himself as well as he could, and in a few
+moments he was lying in the bottom of the skiff, covered with a piece of
+sacking which the mate threw down, the rope ladder was hauled up and
+disappeared, and when Pasquale glanced back as he rowed slowly away, the
+mate was leaning over the taffrail in an attitude of easy unconcern.
+
+The old porter had smuggled more than one bale of rich goods ashore in
+his young days, for a captain who had a dislike of the customs, and he
+knew that his chance of safety lay not in speed, but in showing a cool
+indifference. He might have dropped down the Giudecca at a good rate,
+for the tide was fair, but he preferred a direction that would take him
+right across the course of the boat which the mate had seen coming, as
+if he were on his way to the Lido.
+
+The officer of the Ten, with four men in plain brown coats and leathern
+belts, sat in the stern of the eight-oared launch that swept swiftly
+past the skiff towards the vessels at anchor. Pasquale rested on his oar
+a moment and turned to look, with an air of interest that would have
+disarmed any suspicions the officer might have entertained. But he had
+none, and did not bestow a second glance on the little craft with its
+shabby oarsman. Then Pasquale began to row again, with a long even
+stroke that had no air of haste about it, but which kept the skiff at a
+good speed. When he saw that he was out of hearing of other boats, and
+heading for the Lido, he began to tell what he intended to do next, in a
+low monotonous tone, glancing down now and then at Zorzi's face that
+cautiously peered at him out from the folds of the sackcloth.
+
+"I will tell you when to cover yourself," he said, speaking at the
+horizon. "We shall have to spend the day under one of the islands. I
+have some bread and cheese and water, and there are onions. When it is
+night I will just slip into our canal at Murano, and you can sleep in
+the laboratory, as if you had never left it."
+
+"If they find me there, they cannot say that I am hiding," said Zorzi
+with a low laugh.
+
+"Lie low," said Pasquale softly. "There is a boat coming."
+
+For ten minutes neither spoke, and Zorzi lay quite still, covering his
+face. When the danger was past Pasquale began to talk again, and told
+him all he himself knew of what had happened, which was not much, but
+which included the assurance that the master was for him, and had turned
+against Giovanni.
+
+"As for me," said Zorzi, by and by, when they were moored to a stake,
+far out in the lagoon, "I was whirled from place to place by those two
+men, till I did not know where I was. When they first carried me off,
+they made me lie in the bottom of their boat as I am lying now, and they
+took me to a house somewhere near the Baker's Bridge. Do you know the
+house of the Agnus Dei?"
+
+Pasquale grunted.
+
+"It was not far from that," Zorzi continued. "Aristarchi lives there.
+The mate went back to the ship, I suppose, and Aristarchi's servant gave
+us supper. Then we slept quietly till morning and I stayed there all
+day, but Aristarchi thought it would not be safe to keep me in his house
+the next night--that was last night. He said he feared that a certain
+lady had guessed where I was. He is a mysterious individual, this Greek!
+So I was taken somewhere else in the bottom of a boat, after dark. I do
+not know where it was, but I think it must have been the garret of some
+tavern where they play dice. After midnight I heard a great commotion
+below me, and presently Aristarchi appeared at the window with a rope.
+He always seems to have a coil of rope within reach! He tied me to
+him--it was like being tied to a wild horse--and he got us safely down
+from the window to the boat again, and the mate was in it, and they took
+me to the ship faster than I was ever rowed in my life. You know the
+rest."
+
+All through the long July day they lay in the fierce sun, shading
+themselves with the sacking as best they could. But when it was dark at
+last, Pasquale cast off and headed the skiff for Murano.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+
+Jacopo Contarini's luck at dice had changed of late, and his friends no
+longer spoke of losing like him, but of winning as he did, on almost
+every throw.
+
+"Nevertheless," said the big Foscari to Zuan Venier, "his love affairs
+seem to prosper! The Georgian is as beautiful as ever, and he is going
+to marry a rich wife."
+
+It was the afternoon of the day on which Zorzi had left Aristarchi's
+ship, and the two patricians were lounging in the shady Merceria, where
+the overhanging balconies of the wooden houses almost met above, and the
+merchants sat below in the windows of their deep shops, on the little
+platforms which were at once counters and window-sills. The street smelt
+of Eastern silks and Spanish leather, and of the Egyptian pastils which
+the merchants of perfumery continually burnt in order to attract custom.
+
+"I am not qualmish," answered Venier languidly, "yet it sickens me to
+think of the life Jacopo means to lead. I am sorry for the glass-maker's
+daughter."
+
+Foscari laughed carelessly. The idea that a woman should be looked upon
+as anything more than a slave or an object of prey had never occurred to
+him. But Venier did not smile.
+
+"Since we speak of glass-makers," he said, "Jacopo is doing his best to
+get that unlucky Dalmatian imprisoned and banished. Old Beroviero came
+to see me this morning and told me a long story about it, which I cannot
+possibly remember; but it seems to me--you understand!"
+
+He spoke in low tones, for the Merceria was crowded. Foscari, who was
+one of those who took most seriously the ceremonial of the secret
+society, while not caring a straw for its political side, looked very
+grave.
+
+"It is of no use to say that the poor fellow is only a glass-blower,"
+Venier continued. "There are men besides patricians in the world, and
+good men, too. I mean to tell Contarini what I think of it to-night."
+
+"I will, too," said Foscari at once.
+
+"And I intend to use all the influence my family has, to obtain a fair
+hearing for the Dalmatian. I hope you will help me. Amongst us we can
+reach every one of the Council of Ten, except old Contarini, who has the
+soul of a school-master and the intelligence of a crab. If I did not
+like the fellow, I suppose I should let him be hanged several times
+rather than take so much trouble. Sins of omission are my strongest
+point. I have always surprised my confessor at Easter by the
+extraordinary number of things I have left undone."
+
+"I daresay," laughed Foscari, "but I remember that you were not too
+lazy to save me from drowning when I fell into the Grand Canal in
+carnival."
+
+"I forgot that the water was so cold," said Venier. "If I had guessed
+how chilly it was, I should certainly not have pulled you out. There is
+old Hossein at his window. Let us go in and drink sherbet."
+
+"We shall find Mocenigo and Loredan there," answered Foscari. "They
+shall promise to help the glass-blower, too."
+
+They nodded to the Persian merchant, who saluted them by extending his
+hand towards the ground as if to take up dust, and then bringing it to
+his forehead. He was very fat, and his pear-shaped face might have been
+carved out of white cheese. The two young men went in by a small door at
+the side of the window-counter and disappeared into the interior. At the
+back of the shop there was a private room with a latticed window that
+looked out upon a narrow canal. It was one of many places where the
+young Venetians met in the afternoon to play at dice undisturbed, on
+pretence of examining Hossein's splendid carpets and Oriental silks.
+Moreover Hossein's wife, always invisible but ever near, had a
+marvellous gift for making fruit sherbets, cooled with the snow that was
+brought down daily from the mountains on the mainland in dripping bales
+covered with straw matting.
+
+Loredan and Mocenigo were already there, as Foscari had anticipated,
+eating pistachio nuts and sipping sherbet through rice straws out of
+tall glasses from Murano. It was a very safe place, for Hossein's
+knowledge of the Italian language was of a purely commercial character,
+embracing every numeral and fraction, common or uncommon, and the names
+of all the hundreds of foreign coins that passed current in Venice,
+together with half-a-dozen necessary phrases; and his invisible but
+occasionally audible wife understood no Italian at all. Also, Hossein
+was always willing to lend any young patrician money with which to pay
+his losses, at the modest rate of seven ducats to be paid every week for
+the use of each hundred; which one of the youths, who had a turn for
+arithmetic, had discovered to be only about 364 per cent yearly, whereas
+Casadio, the Hebrew, had a method of his own by which he managed to get
+about 580. It was therefore a real economy to frequent Hossein's shop.
+
+In spite of his pretended forgetfulness, Venier remembered every word
+that Beroviero had told him, and indolently as he talked, his whole
+nature was roused to defend Zorzi. In his heart he despised Contarini,
+and hoped that his marriage might never take place, for he was sincerely
+sorry for Marietta; but it was Jacopo's behaviour towards Zorzi that
+called forth his wrath, it was the man's disdainful assumption that
+because Zorzi was not a patrician, the oath to defend every companion of
+the society was not binding where he was concerned; it was the insolent
+certainty that the others should all be glad to be rid of the poor
+Dalmatian, who after all had not troubled them over-much with his
+company. On that very evening they were to meet at the house of the
+Agnus Dei, and Venier was determined to speak his mind. When he chose
+to exert himself, his influence over his companions was very great, if
+not supreme.
+
+He soon brought Mocenigo and Loredan to share his opinion and to promise
+the support of all their many relations in Zorzi's favour, and the four
+began to play, for lack of anything better to do. Before long others of
+the society came in, and as each arrived Venier, who only played in
+order not to seem as unsociable as he generally felt, set down the dice
+box to gain over a new ally. An hour had passed when Contarini himself
+appeared, even more magnificent than usual, his beautiful waving beard
+most carefully trimmed and combed as if to show it to its greatest
+advantage against the purple silk of a surcoat cut in a new fashion and
+which he was wearing for the first time. His white hands were splendid
+with jewelled rings, and he wore at his belt a large wallet-purse
+embroidered in Constantinople before the coming of the Turks and adorned
+with three enamelled images of saints. Hossein himself ushered him in,
+as if he were the guest of honour, as the Persian merchant indeed
+considered him, for none of the others had ever paid him half so many
+seven weekly ducats for money borrowed in all their lives, as Jacopo had
+often paid in a single year.
+
+There are men whom no one respects very highly, who are not sincerely
+trusted, whose honour is not spotless and whose ways are far from
+straight, but who nevertheless hold a certain ascendancy over others, by
+mere show and assurance. When Contarini entered a place where many were
+gathered together, there was almost always a little hush in the talk,
+followed by a murmur that was pleasant in his ear. No one paused to look
+at Zuan Venier when he came into a room, though there was not one of his
+friends who would not have gone to him in danger or difficulty, without
+so much as thinking of Contarini as a possible helper in trouble. But it
+was almost impossible not to feel a sort of artistic surprise at
+Jacopo's extraordinary beauty of face and figure, if not at the splendid
+garments in which he delighted to array himself.
+
+It was with a slight condescension that he greeted the group of players,
+some of whom at once made a place for him at the table. They had been
+ready enough to stand by Venier against him in Zorzi's defence, but
+unless Venier led the way, there was not one of them who would think of
+opposing him, or taking him to task for what was very like a betrayal.
+Venier returned his greeting with some coldness, which Contarini hardly
+noticed, as his reception by the others had been sufficiently
+flattering. Then they began to play.
+
+Jacopo won from the first. Foscari bent his heavy eyebrows and tugged at
+his beard angrily, as he lost one throw after another; the cold sweat
+stood on Mocenigo's forehead in beads, as he risked more and more, and
+Loredan's hand trembled when it was his turn to take up the dice box
+against Contarini; for they played a game in which each threw against
+all the rest in succession.
+
+"You cannot say that the dice are loaded," laughed Contarini at last,
+"for they are your own!"
+
+"The delicacy of the thought is only exceeded by the good taste that
+expresses it," observed Venier.
+
+"You are sarcastic, my friend," answered Jacopo, shaking the dice. "It
+is your turn with me."
+
+Jacopo threw first. Venier followed him and lost.
+
+"That is my last throw," he said, as he pushed the remains of his small
+heap of gold across to Contarini. "I have no more money to-day, nor
+shall I have to-morrow."
+
+"Hossein has plenty," suggested Foscari, who hoped that Contarini's luck
+would desert him before long.
+
+"At this rate you will need all he has," returned Venier with a careless
+laugh.
+
+Before long more than one of the players was obliged to call in the
+ever-complacent Persian merchant, and the heap of gold grew in front of
+Jacopo, till he could hardly keep it together.
+
+"It is true that you have been losing for years," said Mocenigo, trying
+to laugh, "but we did not think you would win back all your losses in a
+day."
+
+"You shall have your revenge to-night," answered Contarini, rising. "I
+am expected at a friend's house at this hour."
+
+His large wallet was so full of gold that he could hardly draw the
+strong silken strings together and tie them.
+
+"A friend's house!" laughed Loredan, who had lost somewhat less than the
+others. "It would give us much delight to know the colour of the lady's
+hair!"
+
+To this Contarini answered only by a smile, which was not devoid of
+satisfaction.
+
+"Take care!" said Foscari, gloomily contemplating the bare table before
+him, over which so much of his good gold had slipped away. "Take care!
+Luck at play, mischance in love, says the proverb."
+
+"Oh! In that case I congratulate you, my dear friend!" returned
+Contarini gaily.
+
+The others laughed at the retort, and the party broke up, though all did
+not go at once. Venier went out alone, while two or three walked with
+Contarini to his gondola. The rest stayed behind in the shop and made
+old Hossein unroll his choicest carpets and show them his most precious
+embroideries, though he protested that it was already much too dark to
+appreciate such choice things. But they did not wish to be seen coming
+away in a body, for such playing was very strictly forbidden, and the
+spies of the Ten were everywhere.
+
+Contarini dismissed his gondola at the house of the Agnus Dei, and was
+admitted by the trusted servant who had once taken a message to Zorzi.
+He found Arisa waiting for him in her favourite place by the open
+window, and the glow of the setting sun made little fires in her golden
+hair. She could tell by his face that he had been fortunate at play, and
+her smile was very soft and winning. As he sank down beside her in the
+luxurious silence of satisfaction, her fingers were stealthily trying
+the weight of his laden wallet. She could not lift it with one hand. She
+smiled again, as she thought how easily Aristarchi would carry the money
+in his teeth, well tied and knotted in a kerchief, when he slipped down
+the silk rope from her window, though it would be much wiser to exchange
+it for pearls and diamonds which Contarini might see and admire, and
+which she could easily take with her in her final flight.
+
+He trusted her, too, in his careless way, and that night, when he was
+ready to go down and admit his companions, he would empty most of the
+gold into a little coffer in which he often left the key, taking but
+just enough to play with, and almost sure of winning more.
+
+She was very gentle on that evening, when the sun had gone down, and
+they sat in the deepening dusk, and she spoke sadly of not seeing him
+for several hours. It would be so lonely, she said, and since he could
+play in the daytime, why should he give up half of one precious night to
+those tiresome dice? He laughed indolently, pleased that she should not
+even suspect the real object of the meetings.
+
+By and by, when it was an hour after dark, and they had eaten of
+delicate things which a silent old woman brought them on small silver
+platters, Contarini went down to let in his guests, and Arisa was alone,
+as usual on such evenings. For a long time she lay quite still among the
+cushions, in the dark, for Jacopo had taken the light with him. She
+loved to be in darkness, as she always told him, and for very good
+reasons, and she had so accustomed herself to it as to see almost as
+well as Aristarchi himself, for whom she was waiting.
+
+At last she heard the expected signal of his coming, the soft and
+repeated splashing of an oar in the water just below the window. In a
+moment she was in the inner room, to receive him in her straining arms,
+longing to be half crushed to death in his. But to-night, even as he
+held her in the first embrace of meeting, she felt that something had
+happened, and that there was a change in him. She drew him to the little
+light that burned in her chamber before the image, and looked into his
+face, terrified at the thought of what she might see there. He smiled at
+her and raised his shaggy eyebrows as if to ask if she really distrusted
+him.
+
+"Yes," he said, nodding his big head slowly, "something has happened.
+You are quick at guessing. We are going to-night. There is moonlight and
+the tide will serve in two or three hours. Get ready what you need and
+put together the jewels and the money."
+
+"To-night!" cried Arisa, very much surprised. "To-night? Do you really
+mean it?"
+
+"Yes. I am in earnest. Michael has emptied my house of all my belongings
+to-day and has taken the keys back to the owner. We have plenty of time,
+for I suppose those overgrown boys are playing at dice downstairs, and I
+think I shall take leave of Contarini in person."
+
+"You are capable of anything!" laughed Arisa. "I should like to see you
+tear him into little strips, so that every shred should keep alive to be
+tortured!"
+
+"How amiable! What gentle thoughts you have! Indeed, you women are sweet
+creatures!"
+
+With her small white hand she jestingly pretended to box his huge ears.
+
+"You would be well paid if I refused to go with you," she said with a
+low laugh. "But I should like to know why you have decided so suddenly.
+What is the matter? What is to become of all our plans, and of
+Contarini's marriage? Tell me quickly!"
+
+"I have had a visit from an officer of the Ten to-day," he said. "The
+Ten send me greeting, as it were, and their service, and kindly invite
+me to leave Venice within twenty-four hours. As the Ten are the only
+persons in Venice for whom I have the smallest respect, I shall show it
+by accepting their invitation."
+
+"But why? What have you done?"
+
+"Of course it is not a serious matter to give a sound beating to an
+officer of justice and six of his men," answered Aristarchi, "but it is
+not the custom here, and they suspect me of having done it. To tell the
+truth, I think I am hardly treated. I have sent Zorzi back to Murano,
+and if the Ten have the sense to look for him where he has been living
+for five years, they will find him at once, at work in that stifling
+furnace-room. But I fancy that is too simple for them."
+
+He told her how Pasquale had come in the morning, and how the officer
+who had been in pursuit of him had searched the ship for Zorzi in vain.
+The order to leave Venice had come an hour later. The anchors were now
+up, and the vessel was riding to a kedge by a light hawser, well out in
+the channel. As soon as Arisa could be brought on board Aristarchi meant
+to make sail, for the strong offshore breeze would blow all night.
+
+"We may as well leave nothing behind," said Aristarchi coolly. "Michael
+will wait for us below, in one of the ship's boats. There is room for
+all Contarini's possessions, if we could only get at them."
+
+"Would it not be better to be content with what we have already, and to
+go at once?" asked Arisa rather timidly.
+
+"No," replied Aristarchi. "I am going to say good-bye to your old friend
+in my own way."
+
+"Do you mean to kill him?" asked Arisa in a whisper, though it was quite
+safe for them to talk in natural tones. "I could go behind him and throw
+something over his head."
+
+Aristarchi grinned, and pressed her beautiful head to his breast,
+caressing her with his rough hands.
+
+"You are as bloodthirsty as a little tigress," he said. "No. I do not
+even mean to hurt him."
+
+"Oh, I hoped you would," answered the Georgian woman. "I have hated him
+so long. Will you not kill him, just to please me? We could wind him in
+a sheet with a weight, you know, and drop him into the canal, and no one
+would ever know. I have often thought of it."
+
+"Have you, my gentle little sweetheart?" Aristarchi chuckled with
+delight as he stroked her hair. "I am sorry," he continued. "The fact
+is, I am not a Georgian like you. I have been brought up among people of
+civilisation, and I have scruples about killing any one. Besides, sweet
+dove, if we were to kill the son of one of the Council of Ten, the
+Council would pursue us wherever we went, for Venice is very powerful.
+But the Ten will not lift a hand to revenge a good-for-nothing young
+gamester whose slave has run away with her first love! Every one will
+laugh at Contarini if he tries to get redress. It is better to laugh
+than to be laughed at, it is better to be laughed at than to cry, it is
+better to cry one's eyes blind than to be hanged."
+
+Having delivered himself of these opinions Aristarchi began to look
+about him for whatever might be worth the trouble of carrying off, and
+Arisa collected all her jewels from the caskets in which they were kept,
+and little bags of gold coins which she had hidden in different places.
+She also lit a candle and brought Aristarchi to the small coffer in
+which Contarini kept ready gold for play, and which was now more than
+half full.
+
+"The dowry of the glass-maker's daughter!" observed the Greek as he
+carried it off.
+
+There were small objects of gold and silver on the tables in the large
+room, there was a dagger with a jewelled hilt, an illuminated mass book
+in a chased silver case.
+
+"You will need it on Sundays at sea," said Aristarchi.
+
+"I cannot read," said the Georgian slave regretfully. "But it will be a
+consolation to have the missal."
+
+Aristarchi smiled and tossed the book upon the heap of things.
+
+"It would be amusing to pay a visit to those young fools downstairs, and
+to take all their money and leave them locked up for the night," he
+said, as if a thought had struck him.
+
+"There are too many of them," answered Arisa, laying her hand anxiously
+upon his arm. "And they are all armed. Please do nothing so foolish."
+
+"If they are all like Contarini, I do not mind twenty of them or so,"
+laughed Aristarchi. "They must have more than a thousand gold ducats
+amongst them. That would be worth taking."
+
+"They are not all like Contarini," said Arisa. "There is Zuan Venier,
+for instance."
+
+"Zuan Venier? Is he one of them? I have heard of him. I should like to
+see whether he could be frightened, for they say it is impossible."
+
+Aristarchi scratched his head, pushing his shaggy hair forward over his
+forehead, as he tried to think of an effectual scheme for producing the
+desired result.
+
+"The Ten might pursue us for that, as well as for a murder," said Arisa.
+
+Meanwhile the friends assembled in the room downstairs had been occupied
+for a long time in hearing what Zuan Venier had to say to Jacopo
+Contarini, concerning the latter's treatment of Zorzi. For Venier had
+kept his word, and as soon as all were present he had boldly spoken his
+mind, in a tone which his friends were not accustomed to hear. At first
+Contarini had answered with offended surprise, asking what concern it
+could be of Venier's whether a miserable glass-blower were exiled or
+not, and he appealed to the others, asking whether it would not be far
+better for them all that such an outsider as Zorzi should be banished
+from Venice. But Venier retorted that the Dalmatian had taken the same
+oath as the rest of the company, that he was an honest man, besides
+being a great artist as his master asseverated, and that he had the same
+right to the protection of each and all of them as Contarini himself. To
+the latter's astonishment this speech was received with unanimous
+approbation, and every man present, except Contarini, promised his help
+and that of his family, so far as he might obtain it.
+
+"I have advised Beroviero," Venier then continued, "if he can find the
+young artist, to make him go before the Council of Ten of his own free
+will, taking some of his works with him. And now that this question is
+settled, I propose to you all that our society cease to have any
+political or revolutionary aim whatever, for I am of opinion that we are
+risking our necks for a game at dice and for nothing else, which is
+childish. The only liberty we are vindicating, so far as I can see, is
+that of gaming as much as we please, and if we do that, and nothing
+more, we shall certainly not go between the red columns for it. A fine
+or a few months of banishment to the mainland would be the worst that
+could happen. As things are now, we are not only in danger of losing
+our heads at any moment, which is an affair of merely relative
+importance, but we may be tempted to make light of a solemn promise,
+which seems to me a very grave matter."
+
+Thereupon Venier looked round the table, and almost all the men were of
+his opinion. Contarini flushed angrily, but he knew himself to be in the
+wrong and though he was no coward, he had not the sort of temper that
+faces opposition for its own sake. He therefore began to rattle the dice
+in the box as a hint to all that the discussion was at an end.
+
+But his good fortune seemed gone, and instead of winning at almost every
+throw, as he had won in the afternoon, he soon found that he had almost
+exhausted the heap of gold he had laid on the table, and which he had
+thought more than enough. He staked the remainder with Foscari, who won
+it at a cast, and laughed.
+
+"You offered us our revenge," said the big man. "We mean to take it!"
+
+But though Contarini was not a good fighter, he was a good gamester, and
+never allowed himself to be disturbed by ill-luck. He joined in the
+laugh and rose from the table.
+
+"You must forgive me," he said, "if I leave you for a moment. I must
+fill my purse before I play again."
+
+"Do not stay too long!" laughed Loredan. "If you do, we shall come and
+get you, and then we shall know the colour of the lady's hair."
+
+Contarini laughed as he went to the door, opened it and stealthily set
+the key in the lock on the outside.
+
+"I shall lock you in while I am gone!" he cried. "You are far too
+inquisitive!"
+
+Laughing gaily he turned the key on the whole company, and he heard
+their answering laughter as he went away, for they accepted the jest,
+and continued playing.
+
+He entered the large room upstairs, just as Aristarchi had finished
+tying up the heavy bundle in the inner chamber. Arisa heard the
+well-known footstep, and placed one hand over Aristarchi's mouth, lest
+he should speak, while the other pointed to the curtained door. The
+Greek held his breath.
+
+"Arisa! Arisa!" Contarini called out. "Bring me a light, sweetest!"
+
+Without hesitation Arisa took the lighted candle, and making a gesture
+of warning to Aristarchi went quickly to the other room. The Greek crept
+towards the door, the big veins standing out like knots on his rugged
+temples, his great hands opened wide, with the tips of the fingers a
+little turned in. He was like a wrestler ready to get his hold with a
+spring.
+
+"I want some more money," Contarini was saying, in explanation. "They
+said they would follow me if I stayed too long, so I have locked them
+in! I think I shall keep them waiting a while. What do you say, love?"
+
+He laughed again, aloud, and on the other side of the curtain Aristarchi
+grinned from ear to ear and noiselessly loosened the black sash he wore
+round his waist. For once in his life, as Zorzi would have said, he had
+not a coil of rope at hand when he needed it, but the sash was strong
+and would serve the purpose. He pushed the curtain aside, a very little,
+in order to see before springing.
+
+Contarini stood half turned away from the door, clasping Arisa to his
+breast and kissing her hair. The next moment he was sprawling on the
+floor, face downwards, and Arisa was pressing one of the soft cushions
+from the divan upon his head to smother his cries, while Aristarchi
+bound his hands firmly together behind him with one end of the long
+sash, and in spite of his desperate struggle got a turn with the rest
+round both his feet, drew them back as far as he could and hitched the
+end twice. Jacopo was now perfectly helpless, but he was not yet dumb.
+Aristarchi had brought his tools with him, in the bosom of his doublet.
+
+Kneeling on Contarini's shoulders he took out a small iron instrument,
+shaped exactly like a pear, but which by a screw, placed where the stem
+would be, could be made to open out in four parts that spread like the
+petals of a flower. Arisa looked on with savage interest, for she
+believed that it was some horrible instrument of torture; and indeed it
+was the iron gag, the 'pear of anguish,' which the torturers used in
+those days, to silence those whom they called their patients.
+
+Holding the instrument closed, Aristarchi pushed his hand under the
+cushion. He knew that Contarini's mouth would be open, as he must be
+half suffocated and gasping for breath. In an instant the iron pear had
+slipped between his teeth and had opened its relentless leaves, obedient
+to the screw.
+
+"Take the pillow away," said Aristarchi quietly. "We can say good-bye to
+your old acquaintance now, but he will have to content himself with
+nodding his head in a friendly way."
+
+He turned the helpless man upon his side, for owing to the position of
+his heels and hands Contarini could not lie on his back. Then Aristarchi
+set the candle on the floor near his face and looked at him and indulged
+himself in a low laugh. Contarini's face was deep red with rage and
+suffocation, and his beautiful brown eyes were starting from their
+sockets with a terror which increased when he saw far the first time the
+man with whom he had to deal, or rather who was about to deal with him,
+and most probably without mercy. Then he caught sight of Arisa, smiling
+at him, but not as she had been wont to smile. Aristarchi spoke at last,
+in an easy, reassuring tone.
+
+"My friend," he said, "I am not going to hurt you any more. You may
+think it strange, but I really shall not kill you. Arisa and I have
+loved each other for a long time, and since she has lived here, I have
+come to her almost every night. I know your house almost as well as you
+do, and you have kindly told me that your friends are all looked in. We
+shall therefore not have the trouble of leaving by the window, since we
+can go out by the front door, where my boat will be waiting for us. You
+will never see us again."
+
+Contarini's eyes rolled wildly, and still Arisa smiled.
+
+"You have made him suffer," she said. "He loved me."
+
+"Before we go," continued the Greek, folding his arms and looking down
+upon his miserable enemy, "I think it fair to warn you that under the
+praying-stool in Arisa's room there is an air shaft through which we
+have heard all your conversation, during these secret meetings of yours.
+If you try to pursue us, I shall send information to the Ten, which will
+cut off most of your heads. As they are so empty it might seem to be
+scarcely worth while to take them, but the Ten know best. I can rely on
+your discretion. If I were not sure of it I would accede to this dear
+lady's urgent request and cut you up into small pieces."
+
+Contarini writhed and sputtered, but could make no sound.
+
+"I promised not to hurt you any more, my friend, and I am a man of my
+word. But I have long admired your hair and beard. You see I was in
+Saint Mark's when you went there to meet the glass-maker's daughter, and
+I have seen you at other times. I should be sorry never to see such a
+beautiful beard again, so I mean to take it with me, and if you will
+keep quiet, I shall really not hurt you."
+
+Thereupon he produced from his doublet a bright pair of shears, and
+knelt down by the wretched man's head. Contarini twisted himself as be
+might and tried instinctively to draw his head away.
+
+"I have heard that pirates sometimes accidentally cut off a prisoner's
+ear," said Aristarchi. "If you will not move, I am quite sure that I
+shall not be so awkward as to do that."
+
+Contarini now lay motionless, and Aristarchi went to work. With the
+utmost neatness he cropped off the silky hair, so close to Jacopo's
+skull that it almost looked as if it had been shaved with a razor. In
+the same way he clipped the splendid beard away, and even the brown
+eyebrows, till there was not a hair left on Contarini's head or face.
+Then he contemplated his work, and laughed at the weak jaw and the
+womanish mouth.
+
+"You look like an ugly woman in man's clothes," he said, by way of
+consoling his victim.
+
+He rose now, for he feared lest Contarini's friends might break open the
+door downstairs. He shouldered the heavy bundle with ease, set his blue
+cap on the back of his head and bade Arisa go with him. She had her
+mantle ready, but she could not resist casting delighted glances at her
+late owner's face. Before going, she knelt down one moment by his side,
+and inclined her face to his, with a very loving gaze. Lower and lower
+she bent, as if she would give him a parting kiss, till Aristarchi
+uttered an exclamation. Then she laughed cruelly, and with the back of
+her hand struck the lips that had so often touched her own.
+
+A few moments later Aristarchi had placed her in his boat, the heavy
+bundle of spoils lay at her feet, and the craft shot swiftly from the
+door of the house of the Agnus Dei. For Michael Pandos, the mate, had
+been waiting under the window, and a stroke of the oars brought him to
+the steps.
+
+In the closed room where the friends were playing dice, there began to
+be some astonishment at the time needed by Jacopo to replenish his
+purse. When more than half an hour had passed one pair stopped playing,
+and then another, until they were all listening for some sound in the
+silent house. The perfect stillness had something alarming in it, and
+none of them fully trusted Contarini.
+
+"I think," said Venier with all his habitual indolence, "that it is time
+to ascertain the colour of the lady's hair. Can you break the lock?"
+
+He spoke to Foscari, who nodded and went to the door with two or three
+others. In a few seconds it flew open before their combined attack, and
+they almost lost their balance as they staggered out into the dark hall.
+The rest brought lights and they all began to go up the stairs together.
+The first to enter the room was Foscari. Venier, always indifferent, was
+among the last.
+
+Foscari started at the extraordinary sight of a man in magnificent
+clothes, lying on one shoulder, with his heels tied up to his hands and
+his shorn head and face moving slowly from side to side in the bright
+light of the wax candle that stood on the floor. The other men crowded
+into the room, but at first no one recognised the master of the house.
+Then all at once Foscari saw the rings on his fingers.
+
+"It is Contarini," he cried, "and somebody has shaved his head!"
+
+He burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter, in which the others
+joined, till the house rang again, and the banished servants came
+running down to see what was the matter.
+
+Only Zuan Venier, a compassionate smile on his face, knelt beside
+Contarini and carefully withdrew the iron gag from his mouth.
+
+At the same instant Aristarchi's hatchet chopped through the hawser by
+which his vessel was riding, and he took the helm himself to steer her
+out through the narrow channel before the wind.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+
+When Pasquale had let Zorzi in, he crossed the canal again, moored the
+skiff with lock and chain, and came back by the wooden bridge. Zorzi
+went on through the corridor and came out into the moonlit garden. It
+was hard to believe that only forty-eight hours had passed since he had
+left it, but the freshly dug earth told him of Giovanni's search, about
+which Pasquale had told him, and there was the pleasant certainty that
+the master had come home and could probably protect him, even against
+the Ten. Besides this, he felt stronger and more able to move than since
+he had been injured, and he was sure that he could now walk with only a
+stick to help him, though he was always to be lame. He had looked up at
+Marietta's window before leaving the boat, but it was dark, for Pasquale
+had wished to be sure that no one should see Zorzi and it was long past
+the young girl's bedtime.
+
+Pasquale came back, and produced some more bread and cheese from his
+lodge, for both men were hungry. They sat down on the bench under the
+plane-tree and ate their meagre supper together in silence, for they had
+talked much during the long day. Then Pasquale bade Zorzi good night and
+went away, and Zorzi went into the laboratory, where all was dark. But
+he knew every brick of the furnace and every stone of the pavement under
+his feet, and in a few minutes he was fast asleep in his own bed,
+feeling as safe as if the Ten had never existed and as though the
+Signors of the Night were not searching every purlieu of Venice to take
+him into custody. And early in the morning he got up, and Pasquale
+brought him water as of old, and as his hose and doublet had suffered
+considerably during his adventures, he put on the Sunday ones and came
+out into the garden to breathe the morning air. Pasquale had no
+intention of going over to the house to announce Zorzi's return, for he
+was firmly convinced that the most simple way of keeping a secret was
+not to tell it, and before long the master would probably come over
+himself to ask for news.
+
+Beroviero brought Marietta with him, as he often did, and when they were
+within he naturally stopped to question Pasquale about his search, while
+Marietta went on to the garden. The porter took a long time to shut the
+door, and instead of answering Beroviero, shook his ugly head
+discontentedly, and muttered imprecations on all makers of locks,
+latches, bolts, bars and other fastenings, living, dead and yet unborn.
+So it came to pass that Marietta came upon Zorzi suddenly and alone,
+when she least expected to meet him.
+
+He was standing by the well-remembered rose-bush, leaning on his stick
+with one hand and lifting up a trailing branch with the other. But when
+he heard Marietta's step he let the branch drop again and stood waiting
+for her with happy eyes. She uttered a little cry, that was almost of
+fear, and stopped short in her walk, for in the first instant she could
+have believed that she saw a vision; then she ran forward with
+outstretched hands, and fell into his arms as he dropped his stick to
+catch her. As her head touched his shoulder, her heart stopped beating
+for a moment, she gasped a little, and seemed to choke, and then the
+tears of joy flowed from her eyes, her pulses stirred again, and all was
+well. He felt a tremor in his hands and could not speak aloud, but as he
+held her he bent down and whispered something in her ear; and she smiled
+through the shower of her happy tears, though he could not see it, for
+her face was hidden.
+
+Just then Beroviero entered from the corridor, followed by Pasquale, and
+the two old men stood still together gazing at the young lovers. It was
+on that very spot that the master, when going upon his journey, had told
+Zorzi how he wished he were his son. But now he forgot that he had said
+it, and the angry blood rushed to his forehead.
+
+"How dare you?" he cried, as he made a step to go on towards the pair.
+
+They heard his voice and separated hastily. Marietta's fresh cheek
+blushed like red roses, and she looked down, as shamefacedly as any
+country maid, but Zorzi turned white as he stooped to pick up his stick,
+then stood quite upright and met her father's eyes.
+
+"How dare you, I say?" repeated the old man fiercely.
+
+"I love her, sir," Zorzi answered without fear for himself, but with
+much apprehension for Marietta.
+
+"And have you forgotten that I love him, father?" asked Marietta,
+looking up but still blushing. "You know, I told you all the truth, and
+you were not angry then. At least, you were not so very angry," she
+added, shyly correcting herself.
+
+"If she has told you, sir," Zorzi began, "let me--"
+
+"You can tell me nothing I do not know," cried Beroviero, "and nothing I
+wish to hear! Be off! Go to the laboratory and begin work. I will speak
+with my daughter."
+
+Then Pasquale's voice was heard.
+
+"A furnace without a fire is like a ship without a wind," he said. "It
+might as well be anything else."
+
+Beroviero looked towards the old porter indignantly, but Pasquale had
+already begun to move and was returning to his lodge, uttering strange
+and unearthly sounds as he went, for he was so happy that he was really
+trying to hum a tune. The master turned to the lovers again. Zorzi had
+withdrawn a step or two, but showed no signs of going further.
+
+"If you are going to tell me that I must change my mind," said Marietta,
+"and that it is a shame to love a penniless glass-blower--"
+
+"Silence!" cried the old man, stroking his beard fiercely. "How can you
+presume to guess what I may or may not say about your shameless conduct?
+Did I not see him kissing you?"
+
+"I daresay, for he did," answered Marietta, raising her eyebrows and
+looking down in a resigned way. "And it is not the first time, either,"
+she added, shaking her head and almost laughing.
+
+"The insolence!" cried Beroviero. "The atrocious boldness!"
+
+"Sir," said Zorzi, coming nearer, "there is only one remedy for it. Give
+me your daughter for my wife--"
+
+"Upon my faith, this is too much! You know that Marietta is betrothed to
+Messer Jacopo Contarini--"
+
+"I have told you that I will not marry him," said Marietta quietly, "so
+it is just as if I had never been betrothed to him."
+
+"That is no reason for marrying Zorzi," retorted Beroviero. "A pretty
+match for you! Angelo Beroviero's daughter and a penniless foreigner who
+cannot even be allowed to work openly at his art!"
+
+"If I go away," Zorzi answered quietly, "I may soon be as rich as you,
+sir."
+
+At this unexpected statement Beroviero opened his eyes in real
+astonishment, while Zorzi continued.
+
+"You have your secrets, sir, and I have kept them safe for you. But I
+have one of my own which is as valuable as any of yours. Did you find
+some pieces of my work in the annealing oven? I see that they are on the
+table now. Did you notice that the glass is like yours, but finer and
+lighter?"
+
+"Well, if it is, what then?" asked Beroviero. "It was an accident. You
+mixed something with some of my glass--"
+
+"No," answered Zorzi, "it is altogether a composition of my own. I do
+not know how you mix your materials. How should I?"
+
+"I believe you do," said Beroviero. "I believe you have found it out in
+some way--"
+
+Zorzi had produced a piece of folded paper from his doublet, and now
+held it up in his hand.
+
+"I am not bargaining with you, sir, for you are a man of honour. Angelo
+Beroviero will not rob me, after having been kind to me for so many
+years. This is my secret, which I discovered alone, with no one's help.
+The quantities are written out very exactly, and I am sure of them.
+Read what is written there. By an accident, I may have made something
+like your glass, but I do not believe it."
+
+He held out the paper. Beroviero's manner changed.
+
+"You were always an honourable fellow, Zorzi. I thank you."
+
+He opened the paper and looked attentively at the contents. Marietta saw
+his surprise and interest and took the opportunity of smiling at Zorzi.
+
+"It is altogether different from mine," said Beroviero, looking up and
+handing back the document.
+
+"Is there fortune in that, sir, or not?" asked Zorzi, confident of the
+reply. "But you know that there is, and that whenever I go, if I can get
+a furnace, I shall soon be a rich man by the glass alone, without even
+counting on such skill as I have with my hands."
+
+"It is true," answered the master, nodding his head thoughtfully. "There
+are many princes who would willingly give you the little you need in
+order to make your fortune."
+
+"The little that Venice refuses me!" said Zorzi with some bitterness.
+"Am I presuming so much, then, when I ask you for your daughter's hand?
+Is it not in my power, or will it not be very soon, to go to some other
+city, to Milan, or Florence--"
+
+"No, no!" cried Beroviero. "You shall not take her away--"
+
+He stopped short, realising that he had betrayed what had been in his
+mind, since he had seen the two standing there, clasped in one another's
+arms, namely, that in spite of him, or with his blessing, his daughter
+would before long be married to the man she loved.
+
+"Come, come!" he said testily. "This is sheer nonsense!"
+
+He made a step forward as if to break off the situation by going away.
+
+"If you would rather that I should not leave you, sir," said Zorzi, "I
+will stay here and make my glass in your furnace, and you shall sell it
+as if it were your own."
+
+"Yes, father, say yes!" cried Marietta, clasping her hands upon the old
+man's shoulder. "You see how generous Zorzi is!"
+
+"Generous!" Beroviero shook his head. "He is trying to bribe me, for
+there is a fortune in his glass, as he says. He is offering me a
+fortune, I tell you, to let him marry you!"
+
+"The fortune which Messer Jacopo had made you promise to pay him for
+condescending to be my husband!" retorted Marietta triumphantly. "It
+seems to me that of the two, Zorzi is the better match!"
+
+Beroviero stared at her a moment, bewildered. Then, in half-comic
+despair he clapped both his hands upon his ears and shook himself gently
+free from her.
+
+"Was there ever a woman yet who could not make black seem white?" he
+cried. "It is nonsense, I tell you! It is all arrant nonsense! You are
+driving me out of my senses!"
+
+And thereupon he went off down the garden path to the laboratory,
+apparently forgetting that his presence alone could prevent a repetition
+of that very offence which had at first roused his anger. The door
+closed sharply after him, with energetic emphasis.
+
+At the same moment Marietta, who had been gazing into Zorzi's eyes, felt
+that her own sparkled with amusement, and her father might almost have
+heard her sweet low laugh through the open window at the other end of
+the garden.
+
+"That was well done," she said. "Between us we have almost persuaded
+him."
+
+Zorzi took her willing hand and drew her to him, and she was almost as
+near to him as before, when she straightened herself with quick and
+elastic grace, and laughed again.
+
+"No, no!" she said. "If he were to look out and see us again, it would
+be too ridiculous! Come and sit under the plane-tree in the old place.
+Do you remember how you stared at the trunk and would not answer me when
+I tried to make you speak, ever so long ago? Do you know, it was because
+you would not say--what I wanted you to say--that I let myself think
+that I could marry Messer Jacopo. If you had only known what you were
+doing!"
+
+"If I had only known!" Zorzi echoed, as they reached the place and
+Marietta sat down.
+
+They were within sight of the window, but Beroviero did not heed them.
+He was seated in his own chair, in deep thought, his elbows resting on
+the wooden arms, his fingers pressing his temples on each side, thinking
+of his daughter, and perhaps not quite unaware that she was talking to
+the only man he had ever really trusted.
+
+"I must tell you something, Zorzi," she was saying, as she looked up
+into the face she loved. "My father told me last night what he had done
+yesterday. He saw Messer Zuan Venier--"
+
+Zorzi showed his surprise.
+
+"Pasquale told my father that he had been here to see you. Very well,
+this Messer Zuan advised that if you could be found, you should be
+persuaded to go before the tribunal of the Ten of your own free will, to
+tell your story. And he promised to use all his influence and that of
+all his friends in your favour."
+
+"They will not change the law for me," Zorzi replied, in a hopeless
+way.
+
+"If they could hear you, they would make a special decree," said
+Marietta. "You could tell them your story, you could even show them some
+of the beautiful things you have made. They would understand that you
+are a great artist. After all, my father says that one of their most
+especial duties is to deal with everything that concerns Murano and the
+glass-works. Do you think that they will banish you, now that you have a
+secret of your own, and can injure us all by setting up a furnace
+somewhere else? There is no sense in that! And if you go of your own
+free will, they will hear you kindly, I think. But if you stay here,
+they will find you in the end, and they will be very angry then, because
+you will have been hiding from them."
+
+"You are wise," Zorzi answered. "You are very wise."
+
+"No, I love you."
+
+She spoke softly and glanced at the open window, and then at his face.
+
+"Truly?"
+
+He smiled happily as he whispered his question in one word, and he was
+resting a hand on the trunk of the tree, just as he had been standing on
+the day she remembered so well.
+
+"Ah, you know it now!" she answered, with bright and trusting eyes.
+
+"One may know a song well, and yet long to hear it again and again."
+
+"But one cannot be always singing it oneself," she said.
+
+"I could never make it ring as sweetly as you," Zorzi answered.
+
+"Try it! I am tired of hearing my voice--"
+
+"But I am not! There is no voice like it in the world. I shall never
+care to hear another, as long as I live, nor any other song, nor any
+other words. And when you are weary of saying them, I shall just say
+them over in my heart, 'She loves me, she loves me,'--all day long."
+
+"Which is better," Marietta asked, "to love, or to know that you are
+loved?"
+
+"The two thoughts are like soul and body," Zorzi answered. "You must not
+part them."
+
+"I never have, since I have known the truth, and never shall again."
+
+Then they were silent for a while, but they hardly knew it, for the
+world was full of the sweetest music they had ever heard, and they
+listened together.
+
+"Zorzi!"
+
+The master was at the window, calling him. He started a little as if
+awaking and obeyed the summons as quickly as his lameness would allow.
+Marietta looked after him, watching his halting gait, and the little
+effort he made with his stick at each step. For some secret reason the
+injury had made him more dear to her, and she liked to remember how
+brave he had been.
+
+He found Beroviero busy with his papers, and the results of the year's
+experiments, and the old man at once spoke to him as if nothing unusual
+had happened, telling him what to do from time to time, so that all
+might be put in order against the time when the fires should be lighted
+again in September. By and by two men came carrying a new earthen jar
+for broken glass, and all fragments in which the box had lain were
+shovelled into it, and the pieces of the old one were taken away. The
+furnace was not quite cool even yet, and the crucibles might remain
+where they were for a few days; but there was much to be done, and Zorzi
+was kept at work all the morning, while Marietta sat in the shade with
+her work, often looking towards the window and sometimes catching sight
+of Zorzi as he moved about within.
+
+Meanwhile the story of Contarini's mishap had spread in Venice like
+wildfire, and before noon there was hardly one of all his many relations
+and friends who had not heard it. The tale ran through the town, told by
+high and low, by Jacopo's own trusted servant, and the old woman who had
+waited on Arisa, and it had reached the market-place at an early hour,
+so that the ballad-makers were busy with it. For many had known of the
+existence of the beautiful Georgian slave and the subject was a good one
+for a song--how she had caressed him to sleep and fostered his foolish
+security while he loved her blindly, and how she and her mysterious
+lover had bound him and shaved his head and face and made him a
+laughing-stock, so that he must hide himself from the world for months,
+and moreover how they had carried away by night all the precious gifts
+he had heaped upon the woman since he had bought her in the
+slave-market.
+
+Last of all, his father heard it when he came home about an hour before
+noon from the sitting of the Council of Ten, of which he was a member
+for that year. He found Zuan Venier waiting in the hall of his house,
+and the two remained closeted together for some time. For the young man
+had promised Jacopo to tell old Contarini, though it was an ungrateful
+errand, and one which, the latter might remember against him. But it was
+a kind action, and Venier performed it as well as he could, telling the
+story truthfully, but leaving out all such useless details as might
+increase the father's anger.
+
+At first indeed the old man brought his hand down heavily upon the
+table, and swore that he would never see his son again, that he would
+propose to the Ten to banish him from Venice, that he would disinherit
+him and let him starve as he deserved, and much more to the same effect.
+But Venier entreated him, for his own dignity's sake, to do none of
+these things, but to send Jacopo to his villa on the Brenta river, where
+he might devote himself in seclusion to growing his hair and beard
+again; and Zuan represented that if he reappeared in Venice after many
+months, not very greatly changed, the adventure would be so far
+forgotten that his life among his friends would be at least bearable, in
+spite of the ridicule to which he would now and then be exposed for the
+rest of his life, whenever any one chose out of spite to mention
+barbers, shears, razors, specifies for causing the hair to grow, or
+Georgians, in his presence. Further, Venier ventured to suggest to
+Contarini that he should at once break off the marriage arranged with
+Beroviero, rather than expose himself to the inevitable indignity of
+letting the step be taken by the glass-maker, who, said Venier, would as
+soon think of giving his daughter to a Turk as to Jacopo, since the
+latter's graceless doings had been suddenly held up to the light as the
+laughing-stock of all Venice.
+
+In making this suggestion Venier had followed the suggestion of his own
+good sense and good feeling, and Contarini not only accepted the
+proposal but was in the utmost haste to act upon it, fearing lest at any
+moment a messenger might come over from Murano with the news that
+Beroviero withdrew his consent to the marriage. Venier almost dictated
+the letter which Contarini wrote with a trembling hand, and he promised
+to deliver it himself, and if necessary to act as ambassador.
+
+Beroviero had already called to Marietta that it was time to go home,
+though the mid-day bells had not yet rung out the hour, when Pasquale
+appeared in the garden and announced that Venier was waiting in his
+gondola and desired an immediate interview on a matter of importance.
+
+He would have come on Contarini's behalf, if for no other reason, but he
+had spent much time that morning in laying Zorzi's case before his
+friends and all the members of the Grand Council who could have any
+special influence with the Ten, or with the aged Doge, who, although in
+his eightieth year, frequently assisted in person at their meetings, and
+whose Counsellors were always present. He was now almost sure of
+obtaining a favourable hearing for Zorzi, and wished to see Beroviero,
+for he was still in ignorance of Zorzi's return to the glass-house
+during the night.
+
+Marietta was told to go into the deserted building, containing the main
+furnaces, now extinguished, for it was not fitting that she should be
+seen by a patrician whom she did not know, sitting in the garden as if
+she were a mere serving-woman whose face needed no veil. She ran away
+laughing and hid herself in the passage where she had spent moments of
+anguish on the night of Zorzi's arrest, and she waved a kiss to him,
+when her father was not watching.
+
+Zorzi waited at the door of the laboratory, while Beroviero waited
+within, standing by the table to receive his honourable visitor. When
+Zorzi saw Venier's expression of astonishment on seeing him, he smiled
+quietly, but offered no audible greeting, for he did not know what was
+expected of him. But Venier took his hand frankly and held it a moment.
+
+"I am glad to find you here," he said, less indolently than he usually
+spoke. "I have good news for you, if you will take my advice."
+
+"The master has already told me what it is," Zorzi answered. "I am ready
+to give myself up whenever you think best. I have not words to thank
+you."
+
+"I do not like many words," answered Venier. "But if there is anything I
+dislike more, it is thanks. I have some private business with Messer
+Angelo first. Afterwards we can all three talk together."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+
+Zorzi sat on a low bench, blackened with age, against the whitewashed
+wall of a small and dimly lighted room, which was little more than a
+cell, but was in reality the place where prisoners waited immediately
+before being taken into the presence of the Ten. It was not far from the
+dreaded chamber in which the three Chiefs sometimes heard evidence given
+under torture, the door was closed and two guards paced the narrow
+corridor outside with regular and heavy steps, to which Zorzi listened
+with a beating heart. He was not afraid, for he was not easily
+frightened, but he knew that his whole future life was in the balance,
+and he longed for the decisive moment to come. He had surrendered on the
+previous day, and Beroviero had given a large bond for his appearance.
+
+There were witnesses of all that had happened. There was the lieutenant
+of the archers, with his six men, some of whom still showed traces of
+their misadventure. There was Giovanni, whom the Governor had forced to
+appear, much against his will, as the principal accuser by the letter
+which had led to Zorzi's arrest, and the letter itself was in the hands
+of the Council's secretary. But there was also Pasquale, who had seen
+Zorzi go away quietly with the soldiers, and who could speak for his
+character; and Angelo Beroviero was there to tell the truth as far as he
+knew it.
+
+But Zorzi was not to be confronted with any of these witnesses: neither
+with the soldiers who would tell the Council strange stories of devils
+with blue noses and fiery tails, nor with Giovanni, whose letter called
+him a liar, a thief and an assassin, nor with Beroviero nor Pasquale.
+The Council never allowed the accused man and the witnesses for or
+against him to be before them at the same time, nor to hold any
+communication while the trial lasted. That was a rule of their
+procedure, but they were not by any means the mysterious body of malign
+monsters which they have too often been represented to be, in an age
+when no criminal trials could take place without torture.
+
+Zorzi waited on his bench, listening to the tread of the guards. As many
+trials occupied more than one day, his case would come up last of all,
+and the witnesses would all be examined before he himself was called to
+make his defence. He was nervous and anxious. Even while he was sitting
+there, Giovanni might be finding out some new accusation against him or
+the officer of archers might be accusing him of witchcraft and of having
+a compact with the devil himself. He was innocent, but he had broken the
+law, and no doubt many an innocent man had sat on that same bench before
+him, who had never again returned to his home. It was not strange that
+his lips should be parched, and that his heart should be beating like a
+fuller's hammer.
+
+At last the footsteps ceased, the key ground and creaked as it turned,
+and the door was opened. Two tall guards stood looking at him, and one
+of them motioned to him to come. He could never afterwards remember the
+place through which he was made to pass, for the blood was throbbing in
+his temples so that he could hardly see. A door was opened and closed
+after him, and he was suddenly standing alone in the presence of the
+Ten, feeling that he could not find a word to say if he were called upon
+to speak.
+
+A kindly voice broke the silence that seemed to have lasted many
+minutes.
+
+"Is this the person whom we are told is in league with Satan?"
+
+It was the Doge himself who spoke, nodding his hoary head, as very old
+men do, and looking at Zorzi's face with gentle eyes, almost colourless
+from extreme age.
+
+"This is the accused, your Highness," replied the secretary from his
+desk, already holding in his hand Giovanni's letter.
+
+Zorzi saw that the Council of Ten was much more numerous than its name
+implied. The Councillors were between twenty and thirty, sitting in a
+semicircle, against a carved wooden wainscot, on each side of the aged
+Doge, Cristoforo Moro, who had yet one more year to live. There were
+other persons present also, of whom one was the secretary, the rest
+being apparently there to listen to the proceedings and to give advice
+when they were called upon to do so.
+
+In spite of the time of year, the Councillors were all splendidly robed
+in the red velvet mantles, edged with ermine, and the velvet caps which
+made up the state dress of all patricians alike, and the Doge wore his
+peculiar cap and coronet of office. Zorzi had never seen such an
+assembly of imposing and venerable men, some with long grey beards, some
+close shaven, all grave, all thoughtful, all watching him with quietly
+scrutinising eyes. He stood leaning a little on his stick, and he
+breathed more freely since the dreaded moment was come at last.
+
+Some one bade the secretary read the accusation, and Zorzi listened with
+wonder and disgust to Giovanni's long epistle, mentally noting the
+points which he might answer, and realising that if the law was to be
+interpreted literally, he had undoubtedly rendered himself liable to
+some penalty.
+
+"What have you to say?" inquired the secretary, looking up from the
+paper with a pair of small and piercing grey eyes. "The Supreme Council
+will hear your defence."
+
+"I can tell the truth," said Zorzi simply, and when he had spoken the
+words he was surprised that his voice had not trembled.
+
+"That is all the Supreme Council wishes to hear," answered the
+secretary. "Speak on."
+
+"It is true that I am a Dalmatian," Zorzi said, "and by the laws of
+Venice, I should not have learned the art of glass-blowing. I came to
+Murano more than five years ago, being very poor, and Messer Angelo
+Beroviero took me in, and let me take care of his private furnace, at
+which he makes many experiments. In time, he trusted me, and when he
+wished something made, to try the nature of the glass, he let me make
+it, but not to sell such things. At first they were badly made, but I
+loved the art, and in short time I grew to be skilful at it. So I
+learnt. Sirs--I crave pardon, your Highness, and you lords of the
+Supreme Council, that is all I have to tell. I love the glass, and I can
+make light things of it in good design, because I love it, as the
+painter loves his colours and the sculptor his marble. Give me glass,
+and I will make coloured air of it, and gossamer and silk and lace. It
+is all I know, it is my art, I live in it, I feel in it, I dream in it.
+To my thoughts, and eyes and hands, it is what the love of a fair woman
+is to the heart. While I can work and shape the things I see when I
+close my eyes, the sun does, not move, the day has no time, winter no
+clouds, and summer no heat. When I am hindered I am in exile and in
+prison, and alone."
+
+The Doge nodded his head in kindly approbation.
+
+"The young man is a true artist," he said.
+
+"All this," said one of the Chiefs of the Ten, "would be well if you
+were a Venetian. But you are not, and the accusation says that you have
+sold your works to the injury of born Venetians. What have you to say?"
+
+"Sometimes my master has given me money for a beaker, or a plate, or a
+bottle," answered Zorzi, in some trepidation, for this was the main
+point. "But the things were then his own. How could that do harm to any
+one, since no one can make what I can make, for the master's own use?
+And once, the other day, as the Signor Giovanni's letter says there, he
+persuaded me to take his piece of gold for a beaker he saw in my hand,
+and I said that I would ask the master, when he came back, whether I
+might keep the money or not; and besides, I left the piece of money on
+the table in my master's laboratory, and the beaker in the annealing
+oven, when they came to arrest me. That is the only work for which I
+ever took money, except from the master himself."
+
+"Why did the Greek captain Aristarchi beat the Governor's men, and carry
+you away?" asked another of the Chiefs.
+
+Zorzi was not surprised that the name of his rescuer should be known,
+for the Ten were believed to possess universal intelligence.
+
+"I do not know," he answered quite simply. "He did not tell me, while he
+kept me with him. I had only seen him once before that night, on a day
+when he came to treat with the master for a cargo of glass which he
+never bought. I gave myself up to the archers, as I gave myself up to
+your lordships, for I thought that I should have justice the sooner if I
+sought it instead of trying to escape from it."
+
+"Your Highness," said one of the oldest Councillors, addressing the
+Doge, "is it not a pity that such a man as this, who is a good artist
+and who speaks the truth, should be driven out of Venice, by a law that
+was not meant to touch him? For indeed, the law exists and always will,
+but it is meant to hinder strangers from coming to Murano and learning
+the art in order to take it away with them, and this we can prevent. But
+we surely desire to keep here all those who know how to practise it, for
+the greater advantage of our commerce with other nations."
+
+"That is the intention of our laws," assented the Doge.
+
+"Your Highness! My lords!" cried Zorzi, who had taken courage from what
+the Councillor had said, "if this law is not made for such as I am, I
+entreat you to grant me your forgiveness if I have broken it, and make
+it impossible for me to break it again. My lords, you have the power to
+do what I ask. I beseech you that I may be permitted to work at my art
+as if I were a Venetian, and even to keep fires in a small furnace of my
+own, as other workmen may when they have saved money, that I may labour
+to the honour of all glass-makers, and for the good reputation of
+Murano. This is what I most humbly ask, imploring that it may be granted
+to me, but always according to your good pleasure."
+
+When he had spoken thus, asking all that was left for him to desire and
+amazed at his own boldness, he was silent, and the Councillors began to
+discuss the question among themselves. At a sign from the Chiefs the urn
+into which the votes were cast was brought and set before the Doge; for
+all was decided by ballot with coloured balls, and no man knew how his
+neighbour voted.
+
+"Have you anything more to say?" asked the secretary, again speaking to
+Zorzi.
+
+"I have said all, save to thank your Highness and your lordships with
+all my heart," answered the Dalmatian.
+
+"Withdraw, and await the decision of the Supreme Council."
+
+Zorzi cast one more glance at the great half circle of venerable men, at
+their velvet robes, at the carved wainscot, at the painted vault above,
+and after making a low obeisance he found his way to the door, outside
+which the guards were waiting. They took him back to a cell like the one
+where he had already sat so long, but which was reached by another
+passage, for everything in the palace was so disposed as to prevent the
+possibility of one prisoner meeting another on his way to the tribunal
+or coming from it; and for this reason the Bridge of Sighs, which was
+then not yet built, was afterwards made to contain two separate
+passages.
+
+It seemed a long time before the tread of guards ceased again and the
+door was opened, and Zorzi rose as quickly as he could when he saw that
+it was the secretary of the Ten who entered, carrying in his hand a
+document which had a seal attached to it.
+
+"Your prayer is granted," said the man with the sharp grey eyes. "By
+this patent the Supreme Council permits you to set up a glass-maker's
+furnace of your own in Murano, and confers upon you all the privileges
+of a born glass-blower, and promises you especial protection if any one
+shall attempt to interfere with your rights."
+
+Zorzi took the precious parchment eagerly, and he felt the hot blood
+rushing to his face as he tried to thank the secretary. But in a moment
+the busy personage was gone, after speaking a word to the guards, and
+Zorzi heard the rustling of his silk gown in the corridor.
+
+"You are free, sir," said one of the guards very civilly, and holding
+the door open.
+
+Zorzi went out in a dream, finding his way he knew not how, as he
+received a word of direction here and there from soldiers who guarded
+the staircases. When he was aware of outer things he was standing under
+the portico that surrounds the courtyard of the ducal palace. The broad
+parchment was unrolled in his hands and his eyes were puzzling over the
+Latin words and the unfamiliar abbreviations; on one side of him stood
+old Beroviero, reading over his shoulder with absorbed interest, and on
+the other was Zuan Venier, glancing at the document with the careless
+certainty of one who knows what to expect. Two steps away Pasquale
+stood, in his best clothes and his clean shirt, for he had been one of
+the witnesses, and he was firmly planted on his bowed legs, his long
+arms hanging down by his sides; his little red eyes were fixed on
+Zorzi's face, his ugly jaw was set like a mastiff's, and his
+extraordinary face seemed cut in two by a monstrous smile of delight.
+
+"It seems to be in order," said Venier, politely smothering with his
+gloved hand the beginning of a yawn.
+
+"I owe it to you, I am sure," answered Zorzi, turning grateful eyes to
+him.
+
+"No, I assure you," said the patrician. "But I daresay it has made us
+all change our opinion of the Ten," he added with a smile. "Good-bye.
+Let me come and see you at work at your own furnace before long. I have
+always wished to see glass blown."
+
+Without waiting for more, he walked quickly away, waving his hand after
+he had already turned.
+
+It was noon when Zorzi had folded his patent carefully and hidden it in
+his bosom, and he and Beroviero and Pasquale went out of the busy
+gateway under the outer portico. Beroviero led the way to the right, and
+they passed Saint Mark's in the blazing sun, and the Patriarch's palace,
+and came to the shady landing, the very one at which the old man and his
+daughter had got out when they had come to the church to meet Contarini.
+The gondola was waiting there, and Beroviero pushed Zorzi gently before
+him.
+
+"You are still lame," he said. "Get in first and sit down."
+
+But Zorzi drew back, for a woman's hand was suddenly thrust out of the
+little window of the 'felse,' with a quick gesture.
+
+"There is a lady inside," said Zorzi.
+
+"Marietta is in the gondola," answered Beroviero with a smile. "She
+would not stay at home. But there is room for us all. Get in, my son."
+
+
+
+
+NOTE
+
+The story of Zorzi Ballarin and Marietta Beroviero is not mere fiction,
+and is told in several ways. The most common account of the
+circumstances assumes that Zorzi actually stole the secrets which Angelo
+Beroviero had received from Paolo Godi, and thereby forced Angelo to
+give him his daughter in marriage; but the learned Comm. C.A. Levi,
+director of the museum in Murano, where many works of Beroviero and
+Ballarin are preserved, has established the latter's reputation for
+honourable dealing with regard to the precious secrets, in a pamphlet
+entitled "L'Arte del Vetro in Murano," published in Venice, in 1895, to
+which I beg to refer the curious reader. I have used a novelist's
+privilege in writing a story which does not pretend to be historical. I
+have taken eleven years from the date on which Giovanni Beroviero wrote
+his letter to the Podestà of Murano, and the letter itself, though
+similar in spirit to the original, is differently worded and covers
+somewhat different ground; I have also represented Zorzi as standing
+alone in his attempt to become an independent glass-blower, whereas
+Comm. Levi has discovered that he had two companions, who were
+Dalmatians, like himself. There is no foundation in tradition for the
+existence of Arisa the Georgian slave, but it is well known that
+beautiful Eastern slaves were bought and sold in Venice and in many
+other parts of Italy even at a much later date.
+
+
+
+
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+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" />
+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Marietta, by F. Marion Crawford</title>
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+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Marietta, by F. Marion Crawford</h1>
+<pre>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at <a href = "https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: Marietta</p>
+<p>       A Maid of Venice</p>
+<p>Author: F. Marion Crawford</p>
+<p>Release Date: June 21, 2005  [eBook #16100]<br />
+   &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;[Most recently updated: December 22, 2005]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARIETTA***</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h4>E-text prepared by John Hagerson, Kevin Handy, Chuck Greif,<br />
+    and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br />
+    (https://www.pgdp.net)</h4>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width:600px">
+<img src="images/frontis.jpg" width="600" alt="'I AM NOT ASLEEP'" />
+<p class="center">"I AM NOT ASLEEP."</p><p style="text-align:right">&mdash;<i>Marietta: A Maid of Venice.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h3>THE NOVELS OF F. MARION CRAWFORD</h3>
+
+<h3><i>In Twenty-five Volumes &mdash; Authorized Edition</i></h3>
+
+<h1>MARIETTA</h1>
+<h1>A Maid of Venice</h1>
+
+<h3>BY</h3>
+
+<h2>F. MARION CRAWFORD</h2>
+
+<h3>WITH FRONTISPIECE</h3>
+<div class="center">
+<img src="images/title.png" alt="Title page decoration" title="Title page decoration" />
+</div>
+<h4>P. F. COLLIER &amp; SON<br />
+NEW YORK</h4>
+
+<h3>1901</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<ul><li><a href="#CHAPTER_I"><b>CHAPTER I</b></a></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_II"><b>CHAPTER II</b></a></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_III"><b>CHAPTER III</b></a></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_IV"><b>CHAPTER IV</b></a></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_V"><b>CHAPTER V</b></a></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_VI"><b>CHAPTER VI</b></a></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_VII"><b>CHAPTER VII</b></a></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII"><b>CHAPTER VIII</b></a></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_IX"><b>CHAPTER IX</b></a></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_X"><b>CHAPTER X</b></a></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_XI"><b>CHAPTER XI</b></a></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_XII"><b>CHAPTER XII</b></a></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII"><b>CHAPTER XIII</b></a></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV"><b>CHAPTER XIV</b></a></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_XV"><b>CHAPTER XV</b></a></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI"><b>CHAPTER XVI</b></a></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII"><b>CHAPTER XVII</b></a></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII"><b>CHAPTER XVIII</b></a></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX"><b>CHAPTER XIX</b></a></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_XX"><b>CHAPTER XX</b></a></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI"><b>CHAPTER XXI</b></a></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII"><b>CHAPTER XXII</b></a></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII"><b>CHAPTER XXIII</b></a></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV"><b>CHAPTER XXIV</b></a></li>
+<li><a href="#NOTE"><b>NOTE</b></a></li>
+</ul>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2>
+
+
+<p>Very little was known about George, the Dalmatian, and the servants in
+the house of Angelo Beroviero, as well as the workmen of the latter's
+glass furnace, called him Zorzi, distrusted him, suggested that he was
+probably a heretic, and did not hide their suspicion that he was in love
+with the master's only daughter, Marietta. All these matters were
+against him, and people wondered why old Angelo kept the waif in his
+service, since he would have engaged any one out of a hundred young
+fellows of Murano, all belonging to the almost noble caste of the
+glass-workers, all good Christians, all trustworthy, and all ready to
+promise that the lovely Marietta should never make the slightest
+impression upon their respectfully petrified hearts. But Angelo had not
+been accustomed to consider what his neighbours might think of him or
+his doings, and most of his neighbours and friends abstained with
+singular unanimity from thrusting their opinions upon him. For this,
+there were three reasons: he was very rich, he was the greatest living
+artist in working glass, and he was of a choleric temper. He confessed
+the latter fault with great humility to the curate of San Piero each
+year in Lent, but he would never admit it to any one else. Indeed, if
+any of his family ever suggested that he was somewhat hasty, he flew
+into such an ungovernable rage in proving the contrary that it was
+scarcely wise to stay in the house while the fit lasted. Marietta alone
+was safe. As for her brothers, though the elder was nearly forty years
+old, it was not long since his father had given him a box on the ears
+which made him see simultaneously all the colours of all the glasses
+ever made in Murano before or since. It is true that Giovanni had
+timidly asked to be told one of the secrets for making fine red glass
+which old Angelo had learned long ago from old Paolo Godi of Pergola,
+the famous chemist; and these secrets were all carefully written out in
+the elaborate character of the late fifteenth century, and Angelo kept
+the manuscript in an iron box, under his own bed, and wore the key on a
+small silver chain at his neck.</p>
+
+<p>He was a big old man, with fiery brown eyes, large features, and a very
+pale skin. His thick hair and short beard had once been red, and streaks
+of the strong colour still ran through the faded locks. His hands were
+large, but very skilful, and the long straight fingers were discoloured
+by contact with the substances he used in his experiments.</p>
+
+<p>He was jealous by nature, rather than suspicious. He had been jealous of
+his wife while she had lived, though a more devoted woman never fell to
+the lot of a lucky husband. Often, for weeks together, he had locked
+the door upon her and taken the key with him every morning when he left
+the house, though his furnaces were almost exactly opposite, on the
+other side of the narrow canal, so that by coming to the door he could
+have spoken with her at her window. But instead of doing this he used to
+look through a little grated opening which he had caused to be made in
+the wall of the glass-house; and when his wife was seated at her window,
+at her embroidery, he could watch her unseen, for she was beautiful and
+he loved her. One day he saw a stranger standing by the water's edge,
+gazing at her, and he went out and threw the man into the canal. When
+she died, he said little, but he would not allow his own children to
+speak of her before him. After that, he became almost as jealous of his
+daughter, and though he did not lock her up like her mother, he used to
+take her with him to the glass-house when the weather was not too hot,
+so that she should not be out of his sight all day.</p>
+
+<p>Moreover, because he needed a man to help him, and because he was afraid
+lest one of his own caste should fall in love with Marietta, he took
+Zorzi, the Dalmatian waif, into his service; and the three were often
+together all day in the room where Angelo had set up a little furnace
+for making experiments. In the year 1470 it was not lawful in Murano to
+teach any foreign person the art of glass-making; for the glass-blowers
+were a sort of nobility, and nearly a hundred years had passed since the
+Council had declared that patricians of Venice might marry the
+daughters of glass-workers without affecting their own rank or that of
+their children. But old Beroviero declared that he was not teaching
+Zorzi anything, that the young fellow was his servant and not his
+apprentice, and did nothing but keep up the fire in the furnace, and
+fetch and carry, grind materials, and sweep the floor. It was quite true
+that Zorzi did all these things, and he did them with a silent
+regularity that made him indispensable to his master, who scarcely
+noticed the growing skill with which the young man helped him at every
+turn, till he could be entrusted to perform the most delicate operations
+in glass-working without any especial instructions. Intent upon artistic
+matters, the old man was hardly aware, either, that Marietta had learned
+much of his art; or if he realised the fact he felt a sort of jealous
+satisfaction in the thought that she liked to be shut up with him for
+hours at a time, quite out of sight of the world and altogether out of
+harm's way. He fancied that she grew more like him from day to day, and
+he flattered himself that he understood her. She and Zorzi were the only
+beings in his world who never irritated him, now that he had them always
+under his eye and command. It was natural that he should suppose himself
+to be profoundly acquainted with their two natures, though he had never
+taken the smallest pains to test this imaginary knowledge. Possibly, in
+their different ways, they knew him better than he knew them.</p>
+
+<p>The glass-house was guarded from outsiders as carefully as a nunnery,
+and somewhat resembled a convent in having no windows so situated that
+curious persons might see from without what went on inside. The place
+was entered by a low door from the narrow paved path that ran along the
+canal. In a little vestibule, ill-lighted by one small grated window,
+sat the porter, an uncouth old man who rarely answered questions, and
+never opened the door until he had assured himself by a deliberate
+inspection through the grating that the person who knocked had a right
+to come in. Marietta remembered him in his den when she had been a
+little child, and she vaguely supposed that he had always been there. He
+had been old then, he was not visibly older now, he would probably never
+die of old age, and if any mortal ill should carry him off, he would
+surely be replaced by some one exactly like him, who would sleep in the
+same box bed, sit all day in the same black chair, and eat bread,
+shellfish and garlic off the same worm-eaten table. There was no other
+entrance to the glass-house, and there could be no other porter to guard
+it.</p>
+
+<p>Beyond the vestibule a dark corridor led to a small garden that formed
+the court of the building, and on one side of which were the large
+windows that lighted the main furnace room, while the other side
+contained the laboratory of the master. But the main furnace was entered
+from the corridor, so that the workmen never passed through the garden.
+There were a few shrubs in it, two or three rose-bushes and a small
+plane-tree. Zorzi, who had been born and brought up in the country, had
+made a couple of flower-beds, edged with refuse fragments of coloured
+and iridescent slag, and he had planted such common flowers as he could
+make grow in such a place, watering them from a disused rain-water
+cistern that was supposed to have been poisoned long ago. Here Marietta
+often sat in the shade, when the laboratory was too close and hot, and
+when the time was at hand during which even the men would not be able to
+work on account of the heat, and the furnace would be put out and
+repaired, and every one would be set to making the delicate clay pots in
+which the glass was to be melted. Marietta could sit silent and
+motionless in her seat under the plane-tree for a long time when she was
+thinking, and she never told any one her thoughts.</p>
+
+
+<p>She was not unlike her father in looks, and that was doubtless the
+reason why he assumed that she must be like him in character. No one
+would have said that she was handsome, but sometimes, when she smiled,
+those who saw that rare expression in her face thought she was
+beautiful. When it was gone, they said she was cold. Fortunately, her
+hair was not red, as her father's had been or she might sometimes have
+seemed positively ugly; it was of that deep ruddy, golden brown that one
+may often see in Venice still, and there was an abundance of it, though
+it was drawn straight back from her white forehead and braided into the
+smallest possible space, in the fashion of that time. There was often a
+little colour in her face, though never much, and it was faint, yet
+very fresh, like the tint within certain delicate shells; her lips were
+of the same hue, but stronger and brighter, and they were very well
+shaped and generally closed, like her father's. But her eyes were not
+like his, and the lids and lashes shaded them in such a way that it was
+hard to guess their colour, and they had an inscrutable, reserved look
+that was hard to meet for many seconds. Zorzi believed that they were
+grey, but when he saw them in his dreams they were violet; and one day
+she opened them wide for an instant, at something old Beroviero said to
+her, and then Zorzi fancied that they were like sapphires, but before he
+could be sure, the lids and lashes shaded them again, and he only knew
+that they were there, and longed to see them, for her father had spoken
+of her marriage, and she had not answered a single word.</p>
+
+<p>When they were alone together for a moment, while the old man was
+searching for more materials in the next room, she spoke to Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>"My father did not mean you to hear that," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Nevertheless, I heard," answered Zorzi, pushing a small piece of beech
+wood into the fire through a narrow slit on one side of the brick
+furnace. "It was not my fault."</p>
+
+<p>"Forget that you heard it," said Marietta quietly, and as her father
+entered the room again she passed him and went out into the garden.</p>
+
+<p>But Zorzi did not even try to forget the name of the man whom Beroviero
+appeared to have chosen for his daughter. He tried instead, to
+understand why Marietta wished him not to remember that the name was
+Jacopo Contarini. He glanced sideways at the girl's figure as she
+disappeared through the door, and he thoughtfully pushed another piece
+of wood into the fire. Some day, perhaps before long, she would marry
+this man who had been mentioned, and then Zorzi would be alone with old
+Beroviero in the laboratory. He set his teeth, and poked the fire with,
+an iron rod.</p>
+
+<p>It happened now and then that Marietta did not come to the glass-house.
+Those days were long, and when night came Zorzi felt as if his heart
+were turning into a hot stone in his breast, and his sight was dull, and
+he ached from his work and felt scorched by the heat of the furnace. For
+he was not very strong of limb, though he was quick with his hands and
+of a very tenacious nature, able to endure pain as well as weariness
+when he was determined to finish what he had begun. But while Marietta
+was in the laboratory, nothing could tire him nor hurt him, nor make him
+wish that the hours were less long. He thought therefore of what must
+happen to him if Jacopo Contarini took Marietta away from Murano to live
+in a palace in Venice, and he determined at least to find out what sort
+of man this might be who was to receive for his own the only woman in
+the world for whose sake it would be perfect happiness to be burned with
+slow fire. He did not mean to do Contarini any harm. Perhaps Marietta
+already loved the man, and was glad she was to marry him. No one could
+have told what she felt, even from that one flashing look she had given
+her father. Zorzi did not try to understand her yet; he only loved her,
+and she was his master's daughter, and if his master found out his
+secret it would be a very evil day for him. So he poked the fire with
+his iron rod, and set his teeth, and said nothing, while old Beroviero
+moved about the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Zorzi," said the master presently, "I meant you to hear what I said to
+my daughter."</p>
+
+<p>"I heard, sir," answered the young man, rising respectfully, and waiting
+for more.</p>
+
+<p>"Remember the name you heard," said Beroviero.</p>
+
+<p>If the matter had been any other in the world, Zorzi would have smiled
+at the master's words, because they bade him do just what Marietta had
+forbidden. The one said "forget," the other "remember." For the first
+time in his life Zorzi found it easier to obey his lady's father than
+herself. He bent his head respectfully.</p>
+
+<p>"I trust you, Zorzi," continued Beroviero, slowly mixing some materials
+in a little wooden trough on the table. "I trust you, because I must
+trust some one in order to have a safe means of communicating with Casa
+Contarini."</p>
+
+<p>Again Zorzi bent his head, but still he said nothing.</p>
+
+<p>"These five years you have worked with me in private," the old man went
+on, "and I know that you have not told what you have seen me do, though
+there are many who would pay you good money to know what I have been
+about."</p>
+
+<p>"That is true," answered Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I therefore judge that you are one of those unusual beings whom
+God has sent into the world to be of use to their fellow-creatures
+instead of a hindrance. For you possess the power of holding your
+tongue, which I had almost believed to be extinct in the human race. I
+am going to send you on an errand to Venice, to Jacopo Cantarini. If I
+sent any one from my house, all Murano would know it to-morrow morning,
+but I wish no one here to guess where you have been."</p>
+
+<p>"No one shall see me," answered Zorzi. "Tell me only where I am to go."</p>
+
+<p>"You know Venice well by this time. You must have often passed the house
+of the Agnus Dei."</p>
+
+<p>"By the Baker's Bridge?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Go there alone, to-night and ask for Messer Jacopo; and if the
+porter inquires your business, say that you have a message and a token
+from a certain Angelo. When you are admitted and are alone with Messer
+Jacopo, tell him from me to go and stand by the second pillar on the
+left in Saint Mark's, on Sunday next, an hour before noon, until he sees
+me; and within a week after that, he shall have the answer; and bid him
+be silent, if he would succeed."</p>
+
+<p>"Is that all, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"That is all. If he gives you any message in answer, deliver it to me
+to-morrow, when my daughter is not here."</p>
+
+<p>"And the token?" inquired Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>"This glass seal, of which he already has an impression in wax, in case
+he should doubt you."</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi took the little leathern bag which contained the seal. He tied a
+piece of string to it, and hung it round his neck, so that it was hidden
+in his doublet like a charm or a scapulary. Beroviero watched him and
+nodded in approval.</p>
+
+<p>"Do not start before it is quite dark," he said. "Take the little skiff.
+The water will be high two hours before midnight, so you will have no
+trouble in getting across. When you come back, come here, and tell the
+porter that I have ordered you to see that my fire is properly kept up.
+Then go to sleep in the coolest place you can find."</p>
+
+<p>After Beroviero had given him these orders, Zorzi had plenty of time for
+reflection, for his master said nothing more, and became absorbed in his
+work, weighing out portions of different ingredients and slowly mixing
+each with the coloured earths and chemicals that were already in the
+wooden trough. There was nothing to do but to tend the fire, and Zorzi
+pushed in the pieces of Istrian beech wood with his usual industrious
+regularity. It was the only part of his work which he hated, and when he
+was obliged to do nothing else, he usually sought consolation in
+dreaming of a time when he himself should be a master glass-blower and
+artist whom it would be almost an honour for a young man to serve, even
+in such a humble way. He did not know how that was to happen, since
+there were strict laws against teaching the art to foreigners, and also
+against allowing any foreign person to establish a furnace at Murano;
+and the glass works had long been altogether banished from Venice on
+account of the danger of fire, at a time when two-thirds of the houses
+were of wood. But meanwhile Zorzi had learned the art, in spite of the
+law, and he hoped in time to overcome the other obstacles that opposed
+him.</p>
+
+<p>There was strength of purpose in every line of his keen young face,
+strength to endure, to forego, to suffer in silence for an end ardently
+desired. The dark brown hair grew somewhat far back from the pale
+forehead, the features were youthfully sharp and clearly drawn, and deep
+neutral shadows gave a look of almost passionate sadness to the black
+eyes. There was quick perception, imagination, love of art for its own
+sake in the upper part of the face; its strength lay in the well-built
+jaw and firm lips, and a little in the graceful and assured poise of the
+head. Zorzi was not tall, but he was shapely, and moved without effort.</p>
+
+<p>His eyes were sadder than usual just now, as he tended the fire in the
+silence that was broken only by the low roar of the flames within the
+brick furnace, and the irregular sound of the master's wooden instrument
+as he crushed and stirred the materials together. Zorzi had longed to
+see Contarini as soon as he had heard his name; and having unexpectedly
+obtained the certainty of seeing him that very night, he wished that
+the moment could be put off, he felt cold and hot, he wondered how he
+should behave, and whether after all he might not be tempted to do his
+enemy some bodily harm.</p>
+
+<p>For in a few minutes the aspect of his world had changed, and
+Contarini's unknown figure filled the future. Until to-day, he had never
+seriously thought of Marietta's marriage, nor of what would happen to
+him afterwards; but now, he was to be one of the instruments for
+bringing the marriage about. He knew well enough what the appointment in
+Saint Mark's meant: Marietta was to have an opportunity of seeing
+Contarini before accepting him. Even that was something of a concession
+in those times, but Beroviero fancied that he loved his child too much
+to marry her against her will. This was probably a great match for the
+glass-worker's daughter, however, and she would not refuse it. Contarini
+had never seen her either; he might have heard that she was a pretty
+girl, but there were famous beauties in Venice, and if he wanted
+Marietta Beroviero it could only be for her dowry. The marriage was
+therefore a mere bargain between the two men, in which a name was
+bartered for a fortune and a fortune for a name. Zorzi saw how absurd it
+was to suppose that Marietta could care for a man whom she had never
+even seen; and worse than that, he guessed in a flash of loving
+intuition how wretchedly unhappy she might be with him, and he hated and
+despised the errand he was to perform. The future seemed to reveal
+itself to him with the long martyrdom of the woman he loved, and he felt
+an almost irresistible desire to go to her and implore her to refuse to
+be sold.</p>
+
+<p>Nine-tenths of the marriages he had ever heard of in Murano or Venice
+had been made in this way, and in a moment's reflection he realised the
+folly of appealing even to the girl herself, who doubtless looked upon
+the whole proceeding as perfectly natural. She had of course expected
+such an event ever since she had been a child, she was prepared to
+accept it, and she only hoped that her husband might turn out to be
+young, handsome and noble, since she did not want money. A moment later,
+Zorzi included all marriageable young women in one sweeping
+condemnation: they were all hard-hearted, mercenary, vain,
+deceitful&mdash;anything that suggested itself to his headlong resentment.
+Art was the only thing worth living and dying for; the world was full of
+women, and they were all alike, old, young, ugly, handsome&mdash;all a pack
+of heartless jades; but art was one, beautiful, true, deathless and
+unchanging.</p>
+
+<p>He looked up from the furnace door, and he felt the blood rush to his
+face. Marietta was standing near and watching him with her strangely
+veiled eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor Zorzi!" she exclaimed in a soft voice. "How hot you look!"</p>
+
+<p>He did not remember that he had ever cared a straw whether any one
+noticed that he was hot or not, until that moment; but for some
+complicated reason connected with his own thoughts the remark stung him
+like an insult, and fully confirmed his recent verdict concerning women
+in general and their total lack of all human kindness where men were
+concerned. He rose to his feet suddenly and turned away without a word.</p>
+
+<p>"Come out into the garden," said Marietta. "Do you need Zorzi just now?"
+she asked, turning to her father, who only shook his head by way of
+answer, for he was very busy.</p>
+
+<p>"But I assure you that I am not too hot," answered Zorzi. "Why should I
+go out?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because I want you to fasten up one of the branches of the red rose. It
+catches in my skirt every time I pass. You will need a hammer and a
+little nail."</p>
+
+<p>She had not been thinking of his comfort after all, thought Zorzi as he
+got the hammer. She had only wanted something done for herself. He might
+have known it. But for the rose that caught in her skirt, he might have
+roasted alive at the furnace before she would have noticed that he was
+hot. He followed her out. She led him to the end of the walk farthest
+from the door of the laboratory; the sun was low and all the little
+garden was in deep shade. A branch of the rose-bush lay across the path,
+and Zorzi thought it looked very much as if it had been pulled down on
+purpose. She pointed to it, and as he carefully lifted it from the
+ground she spoke quickly, in a low tone.</p>
+
+<p>"What was my father saying to you a while ago?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi held up the branch in his hand, ready to fasten it against the
+wall, and looked at her. He saw at a glance that she had brought him out
+to ask the question.</p>
+
+<p>"The master was giving me certain orders," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"He rarely makes such long speeches when he gives orders," observed the
+girl.</p>
+
+<p>"His instructions were very particular."</p>
+
+<p>"Will you not tell me what they were?"</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi turned slowly from her and let the long branch rest on the bush
+while he began to drive a nail into the wall. Marietta watched him.</p>
+
+<p>"Why do you not answer me?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Because I cannot," he said briefly.</p>
+
+<p>"Because you will not, you mean."</p>
+
+<p>"As you choose." Zorzi went on striking the nail.</p>
+
+<p>"I am sorry," answered the young girl. "I really wish to know very much.
+Besides, if you will tell me, I will give you something."</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi turned upon her suddenly with angry eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"If money could buy your father's secrets from me, I should be a rich
+man by this time."</p>
+
+<p>"I think I know as much of my father's secrets as you do," answered
+Marietta more coldly, "and I did not mean to offer you money."</p>
+
+<p>"What then?" But as he asked the question Zorzi turned away again and
+began to fasten the branch.</p>
+
+<p>Marietta did not answer at once, but she idly picked a rose from the
+bush and put it to her lips to breathe in its freshness.</p>
+
+<p>"Why should you think that I meant to insult you?" she asked gently.</p>
+
+<p>"I am only a servant, after all," answered Zorzi, with unnecessary
+bitterness. "Why should you not insult your servants, if you please? It
+would be quite natural."</p>
+
+<p>"Would it? Even if you were really a servant?"</p>
+
+<p>"It seems quite natural to you that I should betray your father's
+confidence. I do not see much difference between taking it for granted
+that a man is a traitor and offering him money to act as one."</p>
+
+<p>"No," said Marietta, smelling the rose from time to time as she spoke,
+"there is not much difference. But I did not mean to hurt your
+feelings."</p>
+
+<p>"You did not realise that I could have any, I fancy," retorted Zorzi,
+still angry.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps I did not understand that you would consider what my father was
+telling you in the same light as a secret of the art," said Marietta
+slowly, "nor that you would look upon what I meant to offer you as a
+bribe. The matter concerned me, did it not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Your name was not spoken. I have fastened the branch. Is there anything
+else for me to do?"</p>
+
+<p>"Have you no curiosity to know what I would have given you?" asked
+Marietta.</p>
+
+<p>"I should be ashamed to want anything at such a price," returned Zorzi
+proudly.</p>
+
+<p>"You hold your honour high, even in trifles."</p>
+
+<p>"It is all I have&mdash;my honour and my art."</p>
+
+<p>"You care for nothing else? Nothing else in the whole world?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing," said Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>"You must be very lonely in your thoughts," she said, and turned away.</p>
+
+<p>As she went slowly along the path her hand hung by her side, and the
+rose she held fell from her fingers. Following her at a short distance,
+on his way back to the laboratory, Zorzi stooped and picked up the
+flower, not thinking that she would turn her head. But at that moment
+she had reached the door, and she looked back and saw what he had done.
+She stood still and held out her hand, expecting him to come up with
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"My rose!" she exclaimed, as if surprised. "Give it back to me."</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi gave it to her, and the colour came to his face a second time. She
+fastened it in her bodice, looking down at it as she did so.</p>
+
+<p>"I am so fond of roses," she said, smiling a little. "Are you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I planted all those you have here," he answered.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;I know."</p>
+
+<p>She looked up as she spoke, and met his eyes, and all at once she
+laughed, not unkindly, nor as if at him, nor at what he had said, but
+quietly and happily, as women do when they have got what they want.
+Zorzi did not understand.</p>
+
+<p>"You are gay," he said coldly.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you wonder?" she asked. "If you knew what I know, you would
+understand."</p>
+
+<p>"But I do not."</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi went back to his furnace, Marietta exchanged a few words with her
+father and left the room again to go home.</p>
+
+<p>In the garden she paused a moment by the rose-bush, where she had talked
+with Zorzi, but there was not even the shadow of a smile in her face
+now. She went down the dark corridor and called the porter, who roused
+himself, opened the door and hailed the house opposite. A woman looked
+out in the evening light, nodded and disappeared. A few seconds later
+she came out of the house, a quiet little middle-aged creature in brown,
+with intelligent eyes, and she crossed the shaky wooden bridge over the
+canal to come and bring Marietta home. It would have been a scandalous
+thing if the daughter of Angelo Beroviero had been seen by the
+neighbours to walk a score of paces in the street without an attendant.
+She had thrown a hood of dark green cloth over her head, and the folds
+hung below her shoulders, half hiding her graceful figure. Her step was
+smooth and deliberate, while the little brown serving-woman trotted
+beside her across the wooden bridge.</p>
+
+<p>The house of Angelo Beroviero hung over the paved way, above the edge of
+the water, the upper story being supported by six stone columns and
+massive wooden beams, forming a sort of portico which was at the same
+time a public thoroughfare; but as the house was not far from the end
+of the canal of San Piero which opens towards Venice, few people passed
+that way.</p>
+
+<p>Marietta paused a moment while the woman held the door open for her. The
+sun had just set and the salt freshness that comes with the rising tide
+was already in the air.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish I were in Venice this evening," she said, almost to herself.</p>
+
+<p>The serving-woman looked at her suspiciously.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2>
+
+
+<p>The June night was dark and warm as Zorzi pushed off from the steps
+before his master's house and guided his skiff through the canal,
+scarcely moving the single oar, as the rising tide took his boat
+silently along. It was not until he had passed the last of the
+glass-houses on his right, and was already in the lagoon that separates
+Murano from Venice, that he began to row, gently at first, for fear of
+being heard by some one ashore, and then more quickly, swinging his oar
+in the curved crutch with that skilful, serpentine stroke which is
+neither rowing nor sculling, but which has all the advantages of both,
+for it is swift and silent, and needs scarcely to be slackened even in a
+channel so narrow that the boat itself can barely pass.</p>
+
+<p>Now that he was away from the houses, the stars came out and he felt the
+pleasant land breeze in his face, meeting the rising tide. Not a boat
+was out upon the shallow lagoon but his own, not a sound came from the
+town behind him; but as the flat bow of the skiff gently slapped the
+water, it plashed and purled with every stroke of the oar, and a faint
+murmur of voices in song was borne to him on the wind from the still
+waking city.</p>
+
+<p>He stood upright on the high stern of the shadowy craft, himself but a
+moving shadow in the starlight, thrown forward now, and now once more
+erect, in changing motion; and as he moved the same thought came back
+and back again in a sort of halting and painful rhythm. He was out that
+night on a bad errand, it said, helping to sell the life of the woman he
+loved, and what he was doing could never be undone. Again and again the
+words said themselves, the far-off voices said them, the lapping water
+took them up and repeated them, the breeze whispered them quickly as it
+passed, the oar pronounced them as it creaked softly in the crutch
+rowlock, the stars spelled out the sentences in the sky, the lights of
+Venice wrote them in the water in broken reflections. He was not alone
+any more, for everything in heaven and earth was crying to him to go
+back.</p>
+
+<p>That was folly, and he knew it. The master who had trusted him would
+drive him out of his house, and out of Venetian land and water, too, if
+he chose, and he should never see Marietta again; and she would be
+married to Contarini just as if Zorzi had taken the message. Besides, it
+was the custom of the world everywhere, so far as he knew, that marriage
+and money should be spoken of in the same breath, and there was no
+reason why his master should make an exception and be different from
+other men.</p>
+
+<p>He could put some hindrance in the way, of course, if he chose to
+interfere, for he could deliver the message wrong, and Contarini would
+go to the church in the afternoon instead of in the morning. He smiled
+grimly in the dark as he thought of the young nobleman waiting for an
+hour or two beside the pillar, to be looked at by some one who never
+came, then catching sight at last of some ugly old maid of forty,
+protected by her servant, ogling him, while she said her prayers and
+filling him with horror at the thought that she must be Marietta
+Beroviero. All that might happen, but it must inevitably be found out,
+the misunderstanding would be cleared away and the marriage would be
+arranged after all.</p>
+
+<p>He had rested on his oar to think, and now he struck it deep into the
+black water and the skiff shot ahead. He would have a far better chance
+of serving Marietta in the future if he obeyed his master and delivered
+his message exactly; for he should see Contarini himself and judge of
+him, in the first place, and that alone was worth much, and afterwards
+there would be time enough for desperate resolutions. He hastened his
+stroke, and when he ran under the shadow of the overhanging houses his
+mood changed and he grew hopeful, as many young men do, out of sheer
+curiosity as to what was before him, and out of the wish to meet
+something or somebody that should put his own strength to the test.</p>
+
+<p>It was not far now. With infinite caution he threaded the dark canals,
+thanking fortune for the faint starlight that showed him the turnings.
+Here and there a small oil lamp burned before the image of a saint; from
+a narrow lane on one side, the light streamed across the water, and with
+it came sounds of ringing glasses, and the tinkling of a lute, and
+laughing voices; then it was dark again as his skiff shot by, and he
+made haste, for he wished not to be seen.</p>
+
+<p>Presently, and somewhat to his surprise, he saw a gondola before him in
+a narrow place, rowed slowly by a man who seemed to be in black like
+himself. He did not try to pass it, but kept a little astern, trying not
+to attract attention and hoping that it would turn aside into another
+canal. But it went steadily on before him, turning wherever he must
+turn, till it stopped where he was to stop, at the water-gate of the
+house of the Agnus Dei. Instantly he brought to in the shadow, with the
+instinctive caution of every one who is used to the water. Gondolas were
+few in those days and belonged only to the rich, who had just begun to
+use them as a means of getting about quickly, much more convenient than
+horses or mules; for when riding a man often had to go far out of his
+way to reach a bridge, and there were many canals that had no bridle
+path at all and where the wooden houses were built straight down into
+the water as the stone ones are to-day. Zorzi peered through the
+darkness and listened. The occupant of the gondola might be Contarini
+himself, coming home. Whoever it was tapped softly upon the door, which
+was instantly opened, but to Zorzi's surprise no light shone from the
+entrance. All the house above was still and dark, and he could barely
+make out by the starlight the piece of white marble bearing the
+sculptured Agnus Dei whence the house takes its name. He knew that above
+the high balcony there were graceful columns bearing pointed stone
+arches, between which are the symbols of the four Evangelists; but he
+could see nothing of them. Only on the balcony, he fancied he saw
+something less dark than the wall or the sky, and which might be a
+woman's dress.</p>
+
+<p>Some one got out of the gondola and went in after speaking a few words
+in a low tone, and the door was then shut without noise. The gondola
+glided on, under the Baker's Bridge, but Zorzi could not see whether it
+went further or not; he thought he heard the sound of the oar, as if it
+were going away. Coming alongside the step, he knocked gently as the
+last comer had done, and the door opened again. He had already made his
+skiff fast to the step.</p>
+
+<p>"Your business here?" asked a muffled voice out of the dark.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi felt that a number of persons were in the hall immediately behind
+the speaker.</p>
+
+<p>"For the Lord Jacopo Contarini," he answered. "I have a message and a
+token to deliver."</p>
+
+<p>"From whom?"</p>
+
+<p>"I will tell that to his lordship," replied Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>"I am Contarini," replied the voice, and the speaker felt for Zorzi's
+face in the darkness, and brought it near his ear.</p>
+
+<p>"From Angelo," whispered Zorzi, so softly that Contarini only heard the
+last word.</p>
+
+<p>The door was now shut as noiselessly as before, but not by Contarini
+himself. He still kept his hold on Zorzi's arm.</p>
+
+<p>"The token," he whispered impatiently.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi pulled the little leathern bag out of his doublet, slipped the
+string over his head and thrust the token into Contarini's hand. The
+latter uttered a low exclamation of surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"What is this?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"The token," answered Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>He had scarcely spoken when he felt Contarini's arms round him, holding
+him fast. He was wise enough to make no attempt to escape from them.</p>
+
+<p>"Friends," said Contarini quickly, "the man who just came in is a spy. I
+am holding him. Help me!"</p>
+
+<p>It seemed to Zorzi that a hundred hands seized him in the dark; by the
+arms, by the legs, by the body, by the head. He knew that resistance was
+worse than useless. There were hands at his throat, too.</p>
+
+<p>"Let us do nothing hastily," said Contarini's voice, close beside him.
+"We must find out what he knows first. We can make him speak, I
+daresay."</p>
+
+<p>"We are not hangmen to torture a prisoner till he confesses," observed
+some one in a quiet and rather indolent tone. "Strangle him quickly and
+throw him into the canal. It is late already."</p>
+
+<p>"No," answered Contarini. "Let us at least see his face. We may know
+him. If you cry out," he said to Zorzi, "you will be killed instantly."</p>
+
+<p>"Jacopo is right," said some one who had not spoken yet.</p>
+
+<p>Almost at the same instant a door was opened and a broad bar of light
+shot across the hall from an inner room. Zorzi was roughly dragged
+towards it, and he saw that he was surrounded by about twenty masked
+men. His face was held to the light, and Contarini's hold on his throat
+relaxed.</p>
+
+<p>"Not even a mask!" exclaimed Jacopo. "A fool, or a madman. Speak, man I
+Who are you? Who sent you here?"</p>
+
+<p>"My name is Zorzi," answered the glass-blower with difficulty, for he
+had been almost choked. "My business is with the Lord Jacopo alone. It
+is very private."</p>
+
+<p>"I have no secrets from my friends," said Contarini. "Speak as if we
+were alone."</p>
+
+<p>"I have promised my master to deliver the message in secret. I will not
+speak here."</p>
+
+<p>"Strangle him and throw him out," suggested the man with the indolent
+voice. "His master is the devil, I have no doubt. He can take the
+message back with him."</p>
+
+<p>Two or three laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"These spies seldom hunt alone," remarked another. "While we are wasting
+time a dozen more may be guarding the entrance to the house."</p>
+
+<p>"I am no spy," said Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you, then?"</p>
+
+<p>"A glass-worker of Murano."</p>
+
+<p>Contarini's hands relaxed altogether, now, and he bent his ear to
+Zorzi's lips.</p>
+
+<p>"Whisper your message," he said quickly.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi obeyed.</p>
+
+<p>"Angelo Beroviero bids you wait by the second pillar on the left in
+Saint Mark's church, next Sunday morning, at one hour before noon, till
+you shall see him, and in a week from that time you shall have an
+answer; and be silent, if you would succeed."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well," answered Contarini. "Friends," he said, standing erect, "it
+is a message I have expected. The name of the man who sends it is
+'Angelo'&mdash;you understand. It is not this fellow's fault that he came
+here this evening."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose there is a woman in the case," said the indolent man. "We
+will respect your secret. Put the poor devil out of his misery and let
+us come to our business."</p>
+
+<p>"Kill an innocent man!" exclaimed Contarini.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, since a word from him can send us all to die between the two red
+columns."</p>
+
+<p>"His master is powerful and rich," said Jacopo. "If the fellow does not
+go back to-night, there will be trouble to-morrow, and since he was sent
+to my house, the inquiry will begin here."</p>
+
+<p>"That is true," said more than one voice, in a tone of hesitation.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi was very pale, but he held his head high, facing the light of the
+tall wax candles on the table around which his captors were standing. He
+was hopelessly at their mercy, for they were twenty to one; the door had
+been shut and barred and the only window in the room was high above the
+floor and covered by a thick curtain. He understood perfectly that, by
+the accident of Angelo's name, "Angel" being the password of the
+company, he had been accidentally admitted to the meeting of some secret
+society, and from what had been said, he guessed that its object was a
+conspiracy against the Republic. It was clear that in self-defence they
+would most probably kill him, since they could not reasonably run the
+risk of trusting their lives in his hands. They looked at each other, as
+if silently debating what they should do.</p>
+
+<p>"At first you suggested that we should torture him," sneered the
+indolent man, "and now you tremble like a girl at the idea of killing
+him! Listen to me, Jacopo; if you think that I will leave this house
+while this fellow is alive, you are most egregiously mistaken."</p>
+
+<p>He had drawn his dagger while he was speaking, and before he had
+finished it was dangerously near Zorzi's throat. Contarini retired a
+step as if not daring to defend the prisoner, whose assailant, in spite
+of his careless and almost womanish tone, was clearly a man of action.
+Zorzi looked fearlessly into the eyes that peered at him through the
+holes in the mask.</p>
+
+<p>"It is curious," observed the other. "He does not seem to be afraid. I
+am sorry for you, my man, for you appear to be a fine fellow, and I like
+your face, but we cannot possibly let you go out of the house alive."</p>
+
+<p>"If you choose to trust me," said Zorzi calmly, "I will not betray you.
+But of course it must seem safer for you to kill me. I quite
+understand."</p>
+
+<p>"If anything, he is cooler than Venier," observed one of the company.</p>
+
+<p>"He does not believe that we are in earnest," said Contarini.</p>
+
+<p>"I am," answered Venier. "Now, my man," he said, addressing Zorzi again,
+"if there is anything I can do for you or your family after your death,
+without risking my neck, I will do it with pleasure."</p>
+
+<p>"I have no family, but I thank you for your offer. In return for your
+courtesy, I warn you that my master's skiff is fast to the step of the
+house. It might be recognised. When you have killed me, you had better
+cast it off&mdash;it will drift away with the tide."</p>
+
+<p>Venier, who had let the point of his long dagger rest against Zorzi's
+collar, suddenly dropped it.</p>
+
+<p>"Contarini," he said, "I take back what I said. It would be an
+abominable shame to murder a man as brave as he is."</p>
+
+<p>A murmur of approval came from all the company; but Contarini, whose
+vacillating nature showed itself at every turn, was now inclined to take
+the other side.</p>
+
+<p>"He may ruin us all," he said. "One word&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"It seems to me," interrupted a big man who had not yet spoken, and
+whose beard was as black as his mask, "that we could make use of just
+such a man as this, and of more like him if they are to be found."</p>
+
+<p>"You are right," said Venier. "If he will take the oath, and bear the
+tests, let him be one of us. My friend," he said to Zorzi, "you see how
+it is. You have proved yourself a brave man, and if you are willing to
+join our company we shall be glad to receive you among us. Do you
+agree?"</p>
+
+<p>"I must know what the purpose of your society is," answered Zorzi as
+calmly as before.</p>
+
+<p>"That is well said, my friend, and I like you the better for it. Now
+listen to me. We are a brotherhood of gentlemen of Venice sworn together
+to restore the original freedom of our city. That is our main purpose.
+What Tiepolo and Faliero failed to do, we hope to accomplish. Are you
+with us in that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sirs," answered Zorzi, "I am a Dalmatian by birth, and not a Venetian.
+The Republic forbids me to learn the art of glass-working. I have
+learned it. The Republic forbids me to set up a furnace of my own. I
+hope to do so. I owe Venice neither allegiance nor gratitude. If your
+revolution is to give freedom to art as well as to men, I am with you."</p>
+
+<p>"We shall have freedom for all," said Venier. "We take, moreover, an
+oath of fellowship which binds us to help each other in all
+circumstances, to the utmost of our ability and fortune, within the
+bounds of reason, to risk life and limb for each other's safety, and
+most especially to respect the wives, the daughters and the betrothed
+brides of all who belong to our fellowship. These are promises which
+every true and honest man can make to his friends, and we agree that
+whoso breaks any one of them, shall die by the hands of the company. And
+by God in heaven, it were better that you should lose your life now,
+before taking the oath, than that you should be false to it."</p>
+
+<p>"I will take that oath, and keep it," said Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>"That is well. We have few signs and no ceremonies, but our promises
+are binding, and the forfeit is a painful death&mdash;so painful that even
+you might flinch before it. Indeed, we usually make some test of a man's
+courage before receiving him among us, though most of us have known each
+other since we were children. But you have shown us that you are
+fearless and honourable, and we ask nothing more of you, except to take
+the oath and then to keep it."</p>
+
+<p>He turned to the company, still speaking in his languid way.</p>
+
+<p>"If any man here knows good reason why this new companion should not be
+one of us, let him show it now."</p>
+
+<p>Then all were silent, and uncovered their heads, but they still kept
+their masks on their faces. Zorzi stood out before them, and Venier was
+close beside him.</p>
+
+<p>"Make the sign of the Cross," said Venier in a solemn tone, quite
+different from his ordinary voice, "and repeat the words after me."</p>
+
+<p>And Zorzi repeated them steadily and precisely, holding his hand
+stretched out before him.</p>
+
+<p>"In the name of the Holy Trinity, I promise and swear to give life and
+fortune in the good cause of restoring the original liberty of the
+people of Venice, obeying to that end the decisions of this honourable
+society, and to bear all sufferings rather than betray it, or any of its
+members. And I promise to help each one of my companions also in the
+ordinary affairs of life, to the best of my ability and fortune, within
+the bounds of reason, risking life and limb for the safety of each and
+all. And I promise most especially to honour and respect the wives, the
+daughters and the betrothed brides of all who belong to this fellowship,
+and to defend them from harm and insult, even as my own mother. And if I
+break any promise of this oath, may my flesh be torn from my limbs and
+my limbs from my body, one by one, to be burned with fire and the ashes
+thereof scattered abroad. Amen."</p>
+
+<p>When Zorzi had said the last word, Venier grasped his hand, at the same
+time taking off the mask he wore, and he looked into the young man's
+face.</p>
+
+<p>"I am Zuan Venier," he said, his indolent manner returning as he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"I am Jacopo Contarini," said the master of the house, offering his hand
+next.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi looked first at one, and then at the other; the first was a very
+pale young man, with bright blue eyes and delicate features that were
+prematurely weary and even worn; Contarini was called the handsomest
+Venetian of his day. Yet of the two, most men and women would have been
+more attracted to Venier at first sight. For Contarini's silken beard
+hardly concealed a weak and feminine mouth, with lips too red and too
+curving for a man, and his soft brown eyes had an unmanly tendency to
+look away while he was speaking. He was tall, broad shouldered, and well
+proportioned, with beautiful hands and shapely feet, yet he did not give
+an impression of strength, whereas Venier's languid manner, assumed as
+it doubtless was, could not hide the restless energy that lay in his
+lean frame.</p>
+
+<p>One by one the other companions came up to Zorzi, took off their masks
+and grasped his hand, and he heard their lips pronounce names famous in
+Venetian history, Loredan, Mocenigo, Foscari and many others. But he saw
+that not one of them all was over five-and-twenty years of age, and with
+the keenness of the waif who had fought his own way in the world he
+judged that these were not men who could overturn the great Republic and
+build up a new government. Whatever they might prove to be in danger and
+revolution, however, he had saved his life by casting his lot with
+theirs, and he was profoundly grateful to them for having accepted him
+as one of themselves. But for their generosity, his weighted body would
+have been already lying at the bottom of the canal, and he was not just
+now inclined to criticise the mental gifts of those would-be
+conspirators who had so unexpectedly forgiven him for discovering their
+secret meeting.</p>
+
+<p>"Sirs," he said, when he had grasped the hand of each, "I hope that in
+return for my life, for which I thank you, I may be of some service to
+the cause of liberty, and to each of you in singular, though I have but
+little hope of this, seeing that I am but an artist and you are all
+patricians. I pray you, inform me by what sign I may know you if we
+chance to meet outside this house, and how I may make myself known."</p>
+
+<p>"We have little need of signs," answered Contarini, "for we meet often,
+and we know each other well. But our password is 'the Angel'&mdash;meaning
+the Angel that freed Saint Peter from his bonds, as we hope to free
+Venice from hers, and the token we give is the grip of the hand we have
+each given you."</p>
+
+<p>Being thus instructed, Zorzi held his peace, for he felt that he was in
+the presence of men far above him in station, in whose conversation it
+would not be easy for him to join, and of whose daily lives he knew
+nothing, except that most of them lived in palaces and many were the
+sons of Councillors of the Ten, and of Senators, and Procurators and of
+others high in office, whereat he wondered much. But presently, as the
+excitement of what had happened wore off, and they sat about the table,
+they began to speak of the news of the day, and especially of the unjust
+and cruel acts of the Ten, each contributing some detail learned in his
+own home or among intimate friends. Zorzi sat silent in his place,
+listening, and he soon understood that as yet they had no definite plan
+for bringing on a revolution, and that they knew nothing of the populace
+upon whose support they reckoned, and of whom Zorzi knew much by
+experience. Yet, though they told each other things which seemed foolish
+to him, he said nothing on that first night, and all the time he watched
+Contarini very closely, and listened with especial attention to what he
+said, trying to discern his character and judge his understanding.</p>
+
+<p>The splendid young Venetian was not displeased by Zorzi's attitude
+towards him, and presently came and sat beside him.</p>
+
+<p>"I should have explained to you," he said, "that as it would be
+impossible for us to meet here without the knowledge of my servants, we
+come together on pretence of playing games of chance. My father lives in
+our palace near Saint Mark's, and I live here alone."</p>
+
+<p>At this Foscari, the tall man with the black beard, looked at Contarini
+and laughed a little. Contarini glanced at him and smiled with some
+constraint.</p>
+
+<p>"On such evenings," he continued, "I admit my guests myself, and they
+wear masks when they come, for though my servants are dismissed to their
+quarters, and would certainly not betray me for a dice-player, they
+might let drop the names of my friends if they saw them from an upper
+window."</p>
+
+<p>At this juncture Zorzi heard the rattling of dice, and looking down the
+table he saw that two of the company were already throwing against each
+other. In a few minutes he found himself sitting alone near Zuan Venier,
+all the others having either begun to play themselves, or being engaged
+in wagering on the play of others.</p>
+
+<p>"And you, sir?" inquired Zorzi of his neighbour.</p>
+
+<p>"I am tired of games of chance," answered the pale nobleman wearily.</p>
+
+<p>"But our host says it is a mere pretence, to hide the purpose of these
+meetings."</p>
+
+<p>"It is more than that," said Venier with a contemptuous smile. "Do you
+play?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am a poor artist, sir. I cannot."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, I had forgotten. That is very interesting. But pray do not call me
+'sir' nor use any formality, unless we meet in public. At the 'Sign of
+the Angel' we are all brothers. Yes&mdash;yes&mdash;of course! You are a poor
+artist. When I expected to be obliged to cut your throat awhile ago, I
+really hoped that I might be able to fulfil some last wish of yours."</p>
+
+<p>"I appreciated your goodness." Zorzi laughed a little nervously, now
+that the danger was over.</p>
+
+<p>"I meant it, my friend, I do assure you. And I mean it now. One
+advantage of the fellowship is that one may offer to help a brother in
+any way without insulting him. I am not as rich as I was&mdash;I was too fond
+of those things once"&mdash;he pointed to the dice&mdash;"but if my purse can
+serve you, such as it is, I hope you will use it rather than that of
+another."</p>
+
+<p>It was impossible to be offended, sensitive though Zorzi was.</p>
+
+<p>"I thank you heartily," he answered.</p>
+
+<p>"It would be a curiosity to see money do good for once," said Venier,
+languidly looking towards the players. "Contarini is losing again," he
+remarked.</p>
+
+<p>"Does he generally lose much at play?" Zorzi asked, trying to seem
+indifferent.</p>
+
+<p>Venier laughed softly.</p>
+
+<p>"It is proverbial, 'to lose like Jacopo Contarini'!" he answered.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me, I beg of you, are all the meetings of the brotherhood like
+this one?"</p>
+
+<p>"In what way?" asked Venier indifferently.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you merely tell each other the news of the day, and then play at
+dice all night?"</p>
+
+<p>"Some play cards." Venier laughed scornfully. "This is only the third of
+our secret sittings, I believe, but many of us meet elsewhere, during
+the day."</p>
+
+<p>"Our host said that the society made a pretence of play in order to
+conspire against the State," said Zorzi. "It seems to me that this is
+making a pretence of conspiracy, with the chance of death on the
+scaffold, for the sake of dice-playing."</p>
+
+<p>"To tell the truth, I think so too," answered the patrician, leaning
+back in his chair and looking thoughtfully at the young glass-blower.
+"It is more interesting to break a law when you may lose your head for
+it than if you only risk a fine or a year's banishment. I daresay that
+seems complicated to you."</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"If it is only for the sake of the danger," he said, "why not go and
+fight the Turks?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have tried to do my share of that," replied Venier quietly. "So have
+some of the others."</p>
+
+<p>"Contarini?" asked Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>"No. I believe he has never seen any fighting."</p>
+
+<p>While the two were talking the play had proceeded steadily, and almost
+in silence. Contarini had lost heavily at first and had then won back
+his losses and twice as much more.</p>
+
+<p>"That does not happen often," he said, pushing away the dice and leaning
+back.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi watched him. The yellow light of the wax candles fell softly upon
+his silky beard and too perfect features, and made splendid shadows in
+the scarlet silk of his coat, and flashed in the precious ruby of the
+ring he wore on his white hand. He seemed a true incarnation of his
+magnificent city, a century before the rest of all Italy in luxury, in
+extravagance, in the art of wasteful trifling with great things which is
+a rich man's way of loving art itself; and there were many others of the
+company who were of the same stamp as he, but whose faces had no
+interest for Zorzi compared with Contarini's. Beside him they were but
+ordinary men in the presence of a young god.</p>
+
+<p>No woman could resist such a man as that, thought the poor waif. It
+would be enough that Marietta's eyes should rest on him one moment, next
+Sunday, when he should be standing by the great pillar in the church,
+and her fate would be sealed then and there, irrevocably. It was not
+because she was only a glass-maker's daughter, brought up in Murano.
+What girl who was human would hesitate to accept such a husband?
+Contarini might choose his wife as he pleased, among the noblest and
+most beautiful in Italy. One or both of two reasons would explain why
+his choice had fallen upon Marietta. It was possible that he had seen
+her, and Zorzi firmly believed that no man could see her without loving
+her; and Angelo Beroviero might have offered such an immense dowry for
+the alliance as to tempt Jacopo's father. No one knew how rich old
+Angelo was since he had returned from Florence and Naples, and many said
+that he possessed the secret of making gold; but Zorzi knew better than
+that.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2>
+
+
+<p>It was past midnight when Jacopo Contarini barred the door of his house
+and was alone. He took one of the candles from the inner room, put out
+all the others and was already in the hall, when he remembered that he
+had left his winnings on the table. Going back he opened the embroidered
+wallet he wore at his belt and swept the heap of heavy yellow coins into
+it. As the last disappeared into the bag and rang upon the others he
+distinctly heard a sound in the room. He started and looked about him.</p>
+
+<p>It was not exactly the sound of a soft footfall, nor of breathing, but
+it might have been either. It was short and distinct, such a slight
+noise as might be made by drawing the palm of the hand quickly over a
+piece of stuff, or by a short breath checked almost instantly, or by a
+shoeless foot slipping a few inches on a thick carpet. Contarini stood
+still and listened, for though he had heard it distinctly he had no
+impression of the direction whence it had come. It was not repeated, and
+he began to search the room carefully.</p>
+
+<p>He could find nothing. The single window, high above the floor, was
+carefully closed and covered by a heavy curtain which could not
+possibly have moved in the stillness. The tapestry was smoothly drawn
+and fastened upon the four walls. There was no furniture in the room but
+a big table and the benches and chairs. Above the tapestries the bare
+walls were painted, up to the carved ceiling. There was nothing to
+account for the noise. Contarini looked nervously over his shoulder as
+he left the room, and more than once again as he went up the marble
+staircase, candle in hand. There is probably nothing more disturbing to
+people of ordinary nerves than a sound heard in a lonely place and for
+which it is impossible to find a reason.</p>
+
+<p>When he reached the broad landing he smiled at himself and looked back a
+last time, shading the candle with his hand, so as to throw the light
+down the staircase. Then he entered the apartment and locked himself in.
+Having passed through the large square vestibule and through a small
+room that led from it, he raised the latch of the next door very
+cautiously, shaded the candle again and looked in. A cool breeze almost
+put out the light.</p>
+
+<p>"I am not asleep," said a sweet young voice. "I am here by the window."</p>
+
+<p>He smiled happily at the words. The candle-light fell upon a woman's
+face, as he went forward&mdash;such a face as men may see in dreams, but
+rarely in waking life.</p>
+
+<p>Half sitting, half lying, she rested in Eastern fashion among the silken
+cushions of a low divan. The open windows of the balcony overlooked the
+low houses opposite, and the night breeze played with the little
+ringlets of her glorious hair. Her soft eyes looked up to her lover's
+face with infinite trustfulness, and their violet depths were like clear
+crystal and as tender as the twilight of a perfect day. She looked at
+him, her head thrown back, one ivory arm between it and the cushion, the
+other hand stretched out to welcome his. Her mouth was like a southern
+rose when there is dew on the smooth red leaves. In a maze of creamy
+shadows, the fine web of her garment followed the lines of her resting
+limbs in delicate folds, and one small white foot was quite uncovered.
+Her fan of ostrich feathers lay idle on the Persian carpet.</p>
+
+<p>"Come, my beloved," she said. "I have waited long."</p>
+
+<p>Contarini knelt down, and first he kissed the arching instep, and then
+her hand, that felt like a young dove just stirring under his touch, and
+his lips caressed the satin of her arm, and at last, with a fierce
+little choking cry, they found her own that waited for them, and there
+was no more room for words. In the silence of the June night one kiss
+answered another, and breath mingled with breath, and sigh with sigh.</p>
+
+<p>At last the young man's head rested against her shoulder among the
+cushions. Then the Georgian woman opened her eyes slowly and glanced
+down at his face, while her hand stroked and smoothed his hair, and he
+could not see the strange smile on her wonderful lips. For she knew that
+he could not see it, and she let it come and go as it would, half in
+pity and half in scorn.</p>
+
+<p>"I knew you would come," she said, bending her head a little nearer to
+his.</p>
+
+<p>"When I do not, you will know that I am dead," he answered almost
+faintly, and he sighed.</p>
+
+<p>"And then I shall go to you," she said, but as she spoke, she smiled
+again to herself. "I have heard that in old times, when the lords of the
+earth died, their most favourite slaves were killed upon the funeral
+pile, that their souls might wait upon their master's in the world
+beyond."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. It is true."</p>
+
+<p>"And so I will be your slave there, as I am here, and the night that
+lasts for ever shall seem no longer than this summer night, that is too
+short for us."</p>
+
+<p>"You must not call yourself a slave, Arisa," answered Jacopo.</p>
+
+<p>"What am I, then? You bought me with your good gold from Aristarchi the
+Greek captain, in the slave market. Your steward has the receipt for the
+money among his accounts! And there is the Greek's written guarantee,
+too, I am sure, promising to take me back and return the money if I was
+not all he told you I was. Those are my documents of nobility, my
+patents of rank, preserved in your archives with your own!"</p>
+
+<p>She spoke playfully, smiling to herself as she stroked his hair. But he
+caught her hand tenderly and brought it to his lips, holding it there.</p>
+
+<p>"You are more free than I," he said. "Which of us two is the slave? You
+who hold me, or I who am held? This little hand will never let me go."</p>
+
+<p>"I think you would come back to me," she answered. "But if I ran away,
+would you follow me?"</p>
+
+<p>"You will not run away." He spoke quietly and confidently, still holding
+her hand, as if he were talking to it, while he felt the breath of her
+winds upon his forehead.</p>
+
+<p>"No," she said, and there was a little silence.</p>
+
+<p>"I have but one fear," he began, at last. "If I were ruined, what would
+become of you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Have you lost at play again to-night?" she asked, and in her tone there
+was a note of anxiety.</p>
+
+<p>Contarini laughed low, and felt for the wallet at his aide. He held it
+up to show how heavy it was with the gold, and made her take it. She
+only kept it a moment, but while it was in her hand her eyelids were
+half closed as if she were guessing at the weight, for he could not see
+her face.</p>
+
+<p>"I won all that," he said. "To-morrow you shall have the pearls."</p>
+
+<p>"How good you are to me! But should you not keep the money? You may need
+it. Why do you talk of ruin?"</p>
+
+<p>She knew that he would give her all he had, she almost guessed that he
+would commit a crime rather than lack gold to give her.</p>
+
+<p>"You do not know my father!" he answered. "When he is displeased he
+threatens to let me starve. He will cut me off some day, and I shall
+have to turn soldier for a living. Would that not be ruin? You know his
+last scheme&mdash;he wishes me to marry the daughter of a rich glass-maker."</p>
+
+<p>"I know." Arisa laughed contemptuously, "Great joy may your bride have
+of you! Is she really rich?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. But you know that I will not marry her."</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?" asked Arisa quite simply.</p>
+
+<p>Contarini started and looked up at her face in the dim light. She was
+bending down to him with a very loving look.</p>
+
+<p>"Why should you not marry?" she asked again. "Why do you start and look
+at me so strangely? Do you think I should care? Or that I am afraid of
+another woman for you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I should have thought that you would be jealous." He still gazed
+at her in astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>"Jealous!" she cried, and as she laughed she shook her beautiful head,
+and the gold of her hair glittered in the flickering candle-light.
+"Jealous? I? Look at me! Is she younger than I? I was eighteen years old
+the other day. If she is younger than I, she is a child&mdash;shall I be
+jealous of children? Is she taller, straighter, handsomer than I am?
+Show her to me, and I will laugh in her face! Can she sing to you, as I
+sing, in the summer nights, the songs you like and those I learned by
+the Kura in the shadow of Kasbek? Is her hair brighter than mine, is her
+hand softer, is her step lighter? Jealous? Not I! Will your rich wife be
+your slave? Will she wake for you, sing for you, dance for you, rise up
+and lie down at your bidding, work for you, live for you, die for you,
+as I will? Will she love you as I can love, caress you to sleep, or wake
+you with kisses at your dear will?"</p>
+
+<p>"No&mdash;ah no! There is no woman in the world but you."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I am not jealous of the rest, least of all, of your young bride. I
+will wager with myself against all her gold for your life, and I shall
+win&mdash;I have won already! Am I not trying to persuade you that you should
+marry?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have not even seen her. Her father sent me a message to-night,
+bidding me go to church on Sunday and stand beside a certain pillar."</p>
+
+<p>"To see and be seen," laughed Arisa. "It is not a fair exchange! She
+will look at the handsomest man in the world&mdash;hush! That is the truth.
+And you will see a little, pale, red-haired girl with silly blue eyes,
+staring at you, her wide mouth open and her clumsy hands hanging down.
+She will look like the wooden dolls they dress in the latest Venetian
+fashion to send to Paris every year, that the French courtiers may know
+what to wear! And her father will hurry her along, for fear that you
+should look too long at her and refuse to marry such a thing, even for
+Marco Polo's millions!"</p>
+
+<p>Contarini laughed carelessly at the description.</p>
+
+<p>"Give me some wine," he said. "We will drink her health."</p>
+
+<p>Arisa rose with the grace of a young goddess, her hair tumbling over her
+bare shoulders in a splendid golden confusion. Contarini watched her
+with possessive eyes, as she went and came back, bringing him the drink.
+She brought him yellow wine of Chios in a glass calix of Murano, blown
+air-thin upon a slender stem and just touched here and there with drops
+of tender blue.</p>
+
+<p>"A health to the bride of Jacopo Contarini!" she said, with a ringing
+little laugh.</p>
+
+<p>Then she set the wine to her lips, so that they were wet with it, and
+gave him the glass; and as she stooped to give it, her hair fell forward
+and almost hid her from him.</p>
+
+<p>"A health to the shower of gold!" he said, and he drank.</p>
+
+<p>She sat down beside him, crossing her feet like an Eastern woman, and he
+set the empty glass carelessly upon the marble floor, as though it had
+been a thing of no price.</p>
+
+<p>"That glass was made at her father's furnace," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"A pity he could not have made his daughter of glass too," answered
+Arisa.</p>
+
+<p>"Graceful and silent?"</p>
+
+<p>"And easily destroyed! But if I say that, you will think me jealous, and
+I am not. She will bring you wealth. I wish her a long life, long enough
+to understand that she has been sold to you for your good name, like a
+slave, as I was sold, but that you gave gold for me because you wanted
+me for myself, whereas you want nothing of her but her gold."</p>
+
+<p>"But for that&mdash;" Contarini seemed to be hesitating. "I never meant to
+marry her," he added.</p>
+
+<p>"And but for that, you would not! But for that! But for the only thing
+which I have not to give you! I wish the world were mine, with all the
+rich secret things in it, the myriads of millions of diamonds in the
+earth, the thousand rivers of gold that lie deep in the mountain rocks,
+and all mankind, and all that mankind has, from end to end of it! Then
+you should have it all for your own, and you would not need to marry the
+little red-haired girl with the fish's mouth!"</p>
+
+<p>Contarini laughed again.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you seen her, that you can describe her so well? She may have
+black hair. Who knows?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Perhaps it is black, thin and coarse like the hair on a mule's
+tail; and she has black eyes, like ripe olives set in the white of a
+hard-boiled egg; and she has a dark skin like Spanish leather which
+shines when she is hot and is grey when she is cold; and a black down on
+her upper lip; and teeth like a young horse. I hate those dark women!"</p>
+
+<p>"But you have never seen her! She may be very pretty."</p>
+
+<p>"Pretty, then! She shall be as you choose. She shall have a round face,
+round eyes, a round nose and a round mouth! Her face shall be pink and
+white, her eyes shall be of blue glass and her hair shall be as smooth
+and yellow as fresh butter. She shall have little fat white hands like a
+healthy baby, a double chin and a short waist. Then she will be what
+people call pretty."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," assented Jacopo. "That is very amusing. But just suppose, for the
+sake of discussion&mdash;it is impossible, of course, but suppose it&mdash;that
+instead of there being only one perfectly beautiful woman in the world,
+whose name is Arisa, there should be two, and that the name of the other
+chanced to be Marietta Beroviero."</p>
+
+<p>Arisa raised her eyes and gazed steadily at Jacopo.</p>
+
+<p>"You have seen her," she said in a tone of conviction. "She is
+beautiful."</p>
+
+<p>"No. I give you my word that I have not seen her. I only wanted to know
+what you would do then."</p>
+
+<p>"I do not believe that any woman is as beautiful as I am," answered the
+Georgian, with the quiet simplicity of a savage.</p>
+
+<p>"But if there were one, and you saw her?" insisted the man, to see what
+she would say.</p>
+
+<p>"We could not both live. One of us would kill the other."</p>
+
+<p>"I believe you would," said Jacopo, watching her face.</p>
+
+<p>She had forgotten his presence while she spoke; a fierce hardness had
+come into her eyes, and her upper lip was a little raised, in a cruel
+expression, just showing her teeth. He was surprised.</p>
+
+<p>"I never saw you like that," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"You should not make me think of killing," she answered, suddenly
+leaving her seat and kneeling beside him on the divan. "It is not good
+to think too much of killing&mdash;it makes one wish to do it."</p>
+
+<p>"Then try and kill me with kisses," he said, looking into her eyes, that
+were growing tender again.</p>
+
+<p>"You would not know you were dying," she whispered, her lips quite close
+to his.</p>
+
+<p>As she kissed him, she loosened the collar from his white throat, and
+smoothed his thick hair back from his forehead upon the pillow, and she
+saw how pale he was, under her touch.</p>
+
+<p>But by and by he fell asleep, and then she very softly drew her arm from
+beneath his tired head, and slipped from his side, and stood up, with a
+little sigh of relief. The candle had burned to the socket; she blew it
+out.</p>
+
+<p>It was still an hour before dawn when she left the room, lifting the
+heavy curtain that hung before the door of her inner chamber. There, a
+faint light was burning before a shrine in a silver cup filled with oil.
+As she fastened the door noiselessly behind her, a man caught her in his
+arms, lifting her off her feet like a child.</p>
+
+<p>Shaggy black hair grew low upon his bossy forehead, his dark eyes were
+fierce and bloodshot, a rough beard only half concealed the huge jaw and
+iron lips. He was half clad, in shirt and hose, and the muscles of his
+neck and arms stood out like brown ropes as he pressed the beautiful
+creature to his broad chest.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought he would never sleep to-night," she whispered.</p>
+
+<p>Her eyelids drooped, and her cheeks grew deadly white, and the strong
+man felt the furious beating of her heart against his own breast. He was
+Aristarchi, the Greek captain who had sold her for a slave, and she
+loved him.</p>
+
+<p>In the wild days of sea-fighting among the Greek islands he had taken a
+small trading galley that had been driven out of her course. He left not
+a man of her crew alive to tell whether she had been Turkish or
+Christian, and he took all that was worth taking of her poor cargo. The
+only prize of any price was the captive Georgian girl who was being
+brought westward to be sold, like thousands of others in those days,
+with little concealment and no mystery, in one of the slave markets of
+northern Italy. Aristarchi claimed her for himself, as his share of the
+booty, but his men knew her value. Standing shoulder to shoulder between
+him and her, they drew their knives and threatened to cut her to pieces,
+if he would not promise to sell her as she was, when they should come to
+land, and share the price with them. They judged that she must be worth
+a thousand or fifteen hundred pieces of gold, for she was more beautiful
+than any woman they had ever seen, and they had already heard her
+singing most sweetly to herself, as if she were quite sure that she was
+in no danger, because she knew her own value. So Aristarchi was forced
+to consent, cursing them; and night and day they guarded her door
+against him, till they had brought her safe to Venice, and delivered her
+to the slave-dealers.</p>
+
+<p>Then Aristarchi sold all that he had, except his ship, and it all
+brought far too little to buy such a slave. She would have gone with
+him, for she had seen that he was stronger than other men and feared
+neither God nor man, but she was well guarded, and he was only allowed
+to talk with her through a grated window, like those at convent gates.</p>
+
+<p>She was not long in the dealers' house, for word was brought to all the
+young patricians of Venice, and many of them bid against each other for
+her, in the dealers' inner room, till Contarini outbid them all, saying
+that he could not live without her, though the price should ruin him,
+and because he had not enough gold he gave the dealers, besides money, a
+marvellous sword with a jewelled hilt, which one of his forefathers had
+taken at the siege of Constantinople, and which some said had belonged
+to the Emperor Justinian himself, nine hundred years ago.</p>
+
+<p>Then Aristarchi and his men paid the dealers their commission and took
+the money and the sword. But before he went from the house, the Greek
+captain begged leave to see Arisa once more at the grating, and he told
+her that come what might he should steal her away. She bade him not to
+be in too great haste, and she promised that if he would wait, he should
+have with her more gold than her new master had given for her, for she
+would take all he had from him, little by little; and when they had
+enough they would leave Venice secretly, and live in a grand manner in
+Florence, or in Rome, or in Sicily. For she never doubted but that he
+would find some way of coming to her, though she were guarded more
+closely than in the slave-dealers' house, where the windows were grated
+and armed men slept before the door, and one of the dealers watched all
+night.</p>
+
+<p>More than a year had passed since then; the strong Greek knew every
+corner of the house of the Agnus Dei, and every foothold under Arisa's
+windows, from the water to the stone sill, by which he could help
+himself a little as he went up hand over hand by the knotted silk rope
+that would have cut to the bone any hands but his. She kept it hidden in
+a cushioned footstool in her inner room. Many a risk he had run, and
+more than once in winter he had slipped down the rope with haste to let
+himself gently into the icy water, and he had swum far down the dark
+canal to a landing-place. For he was a man of iron.</p>
+
+<p>So it came about that Jacopo Contarini lived in a fool's paradise, in
+which he was not only the chief fool himself, but was moreover in bodily
+danger more often than he knew. For though Aristarchi had hitherto
+managed to escape being seen, he would have killed Jacopo with his naked
+hands if the latter had ever caught him, as easily as a boy wrings a
+bird's neck, and with as little scruple of conscience.</p>
+
+<p>The Georgian loved him for his hirsute strength, for his fearlessness,
+even his violence and dangerous temper. He dominated her as naturally as
+she controlled her master, whose vacillating nature and love of idle
+ease filled her with contempt. It was for the sake of gold that she
+acted her part daily and nightly, with a wisdom and unwavering skill
+that were almost superhuman; and the Greek ruffian agreed to the
+bargain, and had been in no haste to carry her off, as he might have
+done at any time. She hoarded the money she got from Jacopo, to give it
+by stealth to Aristarchi, who hid their growing wealth in a safe place
+where it was always ready; but she kept her jewels always together, in
+case of an unexpected flight, since she dared not sell them nor give
+them to the Greek, lest they should be missed.</p>
+
+<p>Of late it had seemed to them both that the time for their final action
+was at hand, for it had been clear to Arisa that Jacopo was near the end
+of his resources, and that his father was resolved to force him to
+change his life. There were days when he was reduced to borrowing money
+for his actual needs, and though an occasional stroke of good fortune at
+play temporarily relieved him, Arisa was sure that he was constantly
+sinking deeper into debt. But within the week, the aspect of his affairs
+had changed. The marriage with Marietta had been proposed, and Arisa had
+made a discovery. She told Aristarchi everything, as naturally as she
+would have concealed everything from Contarini.</p>
+
+<p>"We shall be rich," she said, twining her white arms round his swarthy
+neck and looking up into his murderous eyes with something like genuine
+adoration. "We shall get the wife's dowry for ourselves, by degrees,
+every farthing of it, and it shall be the dower of Aristarchi's bride
+instead. I shall not be portionless. You shall not be ashamed of me when
+you meet your old friends."</p>
+
+<p>"Ashamed!" His arm pressed her to him till she longed to cry out for
+pain, yet she would not have had him less rough.</p>
+
+<p>"You are so strong!" she gasped in a broken whisper. "Yes&mdash;a little
+looser&mdash;so! I can speak now. You must go to Murano to-morrow and find
+out all about this Angelo Beroviero and his daughter. Try to see her,
+and tell me whether she is pretty, but most of all learn whether she is
+really rich."</p>
+
+<p>"That is easy enough. I will go to the furnace and offer to buy a cargo
+of glass for Sicily."</p>
+
+<p>"But you will not take it?" asked Arisa in sudden anxiety lest he should
+leave her to make the voyage.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no! I will make inquiries. I will ask for a sort of glass that does
+not exist."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she said, reassured. "Do that. I must know if the girl is rich
+before I marry him to her."</p>
+
+<p>"But can you make him marry her at all?" asked Aristarchi.</p>
+
+<p>"I can make him do anything I please. We drank to the health of the
+bride to-night, in a goblet made by her father! The wine was strong, and
+I put a little syrup of poppies into it. He will not wake for hours.
+What is the matter?"</p>
+
+<p>She felt the rough man shaking beside her, as if he were in an ague.</p>
+
+<p>"I was laughing," he said, when he could speak. "It is a good jest. But
+is there no danger in all this? Is it quite impossible that he should
+take a liking for his wife?"</p>
+
+<p>"And leave me?" Arisa's whisper was hot with indignation at the mere
+thought. "Then I suppose you would leave me for the first pretty girl
+with a fortune who wanted to marry you!"</p>
+
+<p>"This Contarini is such a fool!" answered Aristarchi contemptuously, by
+way of explanation and apology.</p>
+
+<p>Arisa was instantly pacified.</p>
+
+<p>"If he should be foolish enough for that, I have means that will keep
+him," she answered.</p>
+
+<p>"I do not see how you can force him to do anything except by his passion
+for you."</p>
+
+<p>"I can. I was not going to tell you yet&mdash;you always make me tell you
+everything, like a child."</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" asked the Greek. "Have you found out anything new about
+him? Of course you must tell me."</p>
+
+<p>"We hold his life in our hands," she said quietly, and Aristarchi knew
+that she was not exaggerating the truth.</p>
+
+<p>She began to tell him how this was the third time that a number of
+masked men had come to the house an hour after dark, and had stayed till
+midnight or later, and how Contarini had told her that they came to play
+at dice where they were safe from interruption, and that on these nights
+the servants were sent to their quarters at sunset on pain of dismissal
+if Jacopo found them about the house, but that they also received
+generous presents of money to keep them silent.</p>
+
+<p>"The man is a fool!" said Aristarchi again. "He puts himself in their
+power."</p>
+
+<p>"He is much more completely in ours," answered Arisa. "The servants
+believe that his friends come to play dice. And so they do. But they
+come for something more serious."</p>
+
+<p>Aristarchi moved his massive head suddenly to an attitude of profound
+attention.</p>
+
+<p>"They are plotting against the Republic," whispered Arisa. "I can hear
+all they say."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you sure?"</p>
+
+<p>"I tell you I can hear every word. I can almost see them. Look here.
+Come with me."</p>
+
+<p>She rose and he followed her to the corner of the room where the small
+silver lamp burned steadily before an image of Saint Mark, and above a
+heavy kneeling-stool.</p>
+
+<p>"The foot moves," she said, and she was already on her knees on the
+floor, pushing the step.</p>
+
+<p>It slid back with the soft sound Contarini had heard before he came
+upstairs. The upper part of the woodwork was built into the wall.</p>
+
+<p>"They meet in the place below this," Arisa said. "When they are there, I
+can see a glimmer of light. I cannot get my head in. It is too narrow,
+but I hear as if I were with them."</p>
+
+<p>"How did you find this out?" asked Aristarchi on the floor beside her,
+and reaching down into the dark space to explore it with his hand. "It
+is deep," he continued, without waiting for an answer. "There may be
+some passage by which one can get down."</p>
+
+<p>"Only a child could pass. You see how narrow it is. But one can hear
+every sound. They said enough to-night to send them all to the
+scaffold."</p>
+
+<p>"Better they than we if we ever have to make the choice," said the Greek
+ominously.</p>
+
+<p>He had withdrawn his arm and was planted upon his hands and knees, his
+shaggy head hanging over the dark aperture. He was like some rough wild
+beast that has tracked its quarry to earth and crouches before the hole,
+waiting for a victim.</p>
+
+<p>"How did you find this out?" he asked again, looking up.</p>
+
+<p>She was standing by the corner of the stool, now, all her marvellous
+beauty showing in the light of the little lamp and against the wall
+behind her.</p>
+
+<p>"I was saying my prayers here, the first night they met," she said, as
+if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I heard voices, as it
+seemed, under my feet. I tried to push away the stool, and the foot
+moved. That is all."</p>
+
+<p>Aristarchi's jaw dropped a little as he looked up at her.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you say prayers every night?" he asked in wonder.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I do. Do you never say a prayer?"</p>
+
+<p>"No." He was still staring at her.</p>
+
+<p>"That is very wrong," she said, in the earnest tone a mother might use
+to her little child. "Some harm will befall us, if you do not say your
+prayers."</p>
+
+<p>A slow smile crossed the ruffian's face as he realised that this evil
+woman who was ready to commit the most atrocious deeds out of love for
+him, was still half a child.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+
+
+<p>Marietta awoke before sunrise, with a smile on her lips, and as she
+opened her eyes, the world seemed suddenly gladder than ever before, and
+her heart beat in time with it. She threw back the shutters wide to let
+in the June morning as if it were a beautiful living thing; and it
+breathed upon her face and caressed her, and took her in its spirit
+arms, and filled her with itself.</p>
+
+<p>Not a sound broke the stillness, as she looked out, and the glassy
+waters of the canal reflected delicate tints from the sky, palest green
+and faintest violet and amber with all the lovely changing colours of
+the dawn. By the footway a black barge was moored, piled high with round
+uncovered baskets of beads, white, blue, deep red and black, waiting to
+be taken over to Venice where they would be threaded for the East, and
+the colours stood out in strong contrast with the grey stones, the faint
+reflections in the water and the tender sky above. There were flowers on
+the window-sill, a young rose with opening buds, growing in a red
+earthen jar, and a pot of lavender just bursting into flower, with a
+sweet geranium beside it and some rosemary. Zorzi had planted them all
+for her, and her serving-woman had helped her to fasten the pots in the
+window, because it would have been out of the question that any man
+except her father should enter her room, even when she was not there.
+But they were Zorzi's flowers, and she bent down and smelt their
+fragrance. On a table behind her a single rose hung over the edge of a
+tall glass with a slender stem, almost the counterpart of the one in
+which Contarini had drunk her health at midnight. Her father had given
+it to her as it came from the annealing oven, still warm after long
+hours of cooling with many others like it. She loved it for its grace
+and lightness, and as for the rose, it was the one she had made Zorzi
+give back to her yesterday. She meant to keep it in water till it faded,
+and then she would press it between the first page and the binding of
+her parchment missal. It would keep some of its faint scent, perhaps,
+and if any one saw it, no one would ever guess whence it came.</p>
+
+<p>It meant a great thing to her, for it had told her Zorzi's secret, which
+he had kept so well. He should know hers some day, but not yet, and her
+drooping lids could hide it if it ever came into her eyes. It was too
+soon to let him know that she loved him. That was one reason for hiding
+it, but she had another. If her father guessed that she loved the waif,
+it would fare ill with him. She fancied she could see the old man's
+fiery brown eyes and hear his angry voice. Poor Zorzi would be driven
+from Murano and Venice, never to set foot again within the boundaries of
+the Republic; for Beroviero was a man of weight and influence, of whom
+Venice was proud.</p>
+
+<p>Youth would be very sad if it counted time and labour as it is reckoned
+and valued by mature age. Some day Zorzi would be no longer a mere paid
+helper, calling himself a servant when his humour was bitter, tending a
+fire on his knees and grinding coloured earths and salts in a mortar. He
+had the understanding of the glorious art, and the true love of it, with
+the magic touch; he would make a name for himself in spite of the harsh
+Venetian law, and some day his master would be proud to call him son.
+There would not be many months to wait. Months or years, what mattered,
+since she loved him and was at last quite sure that he loved her?
+To-day, that was enough. She would go over to the glass-house and sit in
+the garden, by the rose he had planted, and now and then she would go
+into the close furnace room where he worked with her father, or Zorzi
+would come out for something; she should be near him, she should see his
+face and hear his quiet voice, and she would say to herself: He loves
+me, he loves me&mdash;as often as she chose, knowing that it was true.</p>
+
+<p>Since she knew it, she was sure that she should see it in his face, that
+had hidden it from her so long. There would be glances when he thought
+she was not watching him, his colour would come and go, as yesterday,
+and he would do her some little service, now and then, in which the
+sweet truth, against his will, should tell itself to her again and
+again. It would be a delicious and ever-remembered day, each minute a
+pearl, each hour a chaplet of jewels, from golden sunrise to golden
+sunset, all perfect through and through.</p>
+
+<p>There were so many little things she could watch in him, now that she
+knew the truth, things that had long meant nothing and would mean
+volumes to-day. She would watch him, and then call him suddenly and see
+him try to hide the little gladness he would feel as he turned to her;
+and when they were alone a moment, she would ask him whether he had
+remembered to forget Jacopo Contarini's name; and some day, but not for
+a long time yet, she would drop a rose again, and she would turn as he
+picked it up, but she would not make him give it back to her, and in
+that way he should know that she loved him. She must not think of that,
+for it was too soon, yet she could almost see his face as it would be
+when he knew.</p>
+
+<p>Yesterday her father had talked again of her marriage. A whole month had
+passed since he had even alluded to it, but this time he had spoken of
+it as a certainty; and she had opened her eyes wide in surprise. She did
+not believe that it was to be. How could she marry a man she did not
+love? How could she love any man but Zorzi? They might show her twenty
+Venetian patricians, that she might choose among them. Meanwhile she
+would show her indifference. Nothing was easier than to put on an
+inscrutable expression which betrayed nothing, but which, as she knew,
+sometimes irritated her father beyond endurance.</p>
+
+<p>He had always promised that she should not be married against her will,
+as many girls were. Then why should she marry Contarini, any more than
+any other man except the one she had chosen? She need only say that
+Contarini did not please her, and her father would certainly not try to
+use force. There was therefore nothing to fear, and since her first
+surprise was over, she felt sure of appearing quite indifferent. She
+would put the thought out of her mind and begin the day with the perfect
+certainty that the marriage was altogether impossible.</p>
+
+<p>She looked out over her flowers. The door of the glass-house was open
+now, and the burly porter was sweeping; she could hear the cypress broom
+on the flagstones inside, and presently it appeared in sight while the
+porter was still invisible, and it whisked out a mixture of black dust
+and bread crumbs and bits of green salad leaves, and the old man came
+out and swept everything across the footway into the canal. As he turned
+to go back, the workmen came trooping across the bridge to the
+furnaces&mdash;pale men with intent faces, very different from ordinary
+working people. For each called himself an artist, and was one; and each
+knew that so far as the law was concerned the proudest noble in Venice
+could marry his daughter without the least derogation from patrician
+dignity. The workmen differed from her own father not in station, but
+only in the degree of their prosperity.</p>
+
+<p>If Zorzi could ever have been one of them the rest would have been
+simple enough. But he could not, any more than a black man could turn
+white at will. There was no evasion of law by which a man not born a
+Venetian could ever be a glass-blower, or could ever acquire the
+privileges possessed from birth by one of those shabby, pale young men
+who were crowding past the porter to go to their hard day's work. Yet
+dexterous as they were, there was not one that had his skill, there was
+not one that could compare with him as an artist, as a workman, as a
+man. No Indian caste, no ancient nobility, no mystic priesthood ever set
+up a barrier so impassable between itself and the outer world as that
+which defended the glass-blowers of Murano for centuries against all who
+wished to be initiated. Even the boys who fed the fires all night were
+of the calling, and by and by would become workmen, and perhaps masters,
+legally almost the equals of the splendid nobles who sat in the Grand
+Council over there in Venice.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi's very existence was an anomaly. He had no social right to be what
+he was, and he knew it when he called himself a servant, for the cruel
+law would not allow him to be anything else so long as he helped Angelo
+Beroviero.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly, while Marietta watched the men, Zorzi was there among them,
+coming out as they went in. He must have risen early, she thought, for
+she did not know that he had slept in the laboratory. He looked pale and
+thin as he flattened himself against the door-post to let a workman
+pass, and then slipped out himself. No one greeted him, even by a nod.
+Marietta knew that they hated him because he was in her father's
+confidence; and somehow, instead of pitying him, she was glad.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed natural that he should not be one of them, that he should pass
+them with quiet indifference and that they should feel for him the
+instinctive dislike which most inferiors feel for those above them.
+Doubtless, they looked down upon him, or told themselves that they did;
+but in their hearts they knew that a man with such a face was born to be
+their teacher and their master, and the girl was proud of him. He
+treated them with more civility than they bestowed on him, but it was
+the courtesy of a superior who would not assert himself, who would scorn
+to thrust himself forward or in any way to claim what was his by right,
+if it were not freely offered. Marietta drew back a little, so that she
+could just see him between the flowers, without being seen.</p>
+
+<p>He stood still, looking down at the canal till the last of the men had
+passed in. Then, before he went on, he raised his eyes slowly to
+Marietta's window, not guessing that her own were answering his from
+behind the rosemary and the geranium. His pale face was very sad and
+thoughtful as he looked up. She had never seen him look so tired. The
+porter had shut the door, which he never allowed to remain open one
+moment longer than was absolutely necessary, and Zorzi stood quite alone
+on the footway. As he looked, his face softened and grew so tender that
+the girl who watched him unseen stretched out her arms towards him with
+unconscious yearning, and her heart beat very fast, so that she felt the
+pulses in her throat almost choking her; yet her face was pale and her
+soft lips were dry and cold. For it was not all happiness that she
+felt; there was a sweet mysterious pain with it, which was nowhere, and
+yet all through her, that was weakness and yet might turn to strength, a
+hunger of longing for something dear and unknown and divine, without
+which all else was an empty shadow. Then her eyes opened to him, as he
+had never seen them, blue as the depth of sapphires and dewy with love
+mists of youth's early spring; it was impossible that he should stand
+there, just beyond the narrow water, and not feel that she saw him and
+loved him, and that her heart was crying out the true words he never
+hoped to hear.</p>
+
+<p>But he did not know. And all at once his eyes fell, and she could almost
+see that he sighed as he turned wearily away and walked with bent head
+towards the wooden bridge. She would have given anything to look out and
+see him cross and come nearer, but she remembered that she was not yet
+dressed, and she blushed as she drew further back into the room,
+gathering the thin white linen up to her throat, and frightened at the
+mere thought that he should catch sight of her. She would not call her
+serving-woman yet, she would be alone a little while longer. She threw
+back her russet hair, and bent down to smell the rose in the tall glass.
+The sun was risen now and the first slanting beams shot sideways through
+her window from the right. The day that was to be so sweet had begun
+most sweetly. She had seen him already, far earlier than usual; she
+would see him many times before the little brown maid crossed the canal
+to bring her home in the evening.</p>
+
+<p>The thought put an end to her meditations, and she was suddenly in haste
+to be dressed, to be out of the house, to be sitting in the little
+garden of the glass-house where Zorzi must soon pass again. She called
+and clapped her hands, and her serving-woman entered from the outer room
+in which she slept. She brought a great painted earthenware dish, on
+which fruit was arranged, half of a small yellow melon fresh from the
+cool storeroom, a little heap of dark red cherries and a handful of ripe
+plums. There was white wheaten bread, too, and honey from Aquileia, in a
+little glass jar, and there was a goblet of cold water. The maid set the
+big dish on the table, beside the glass that held Zorzi's rose, and
+began to make ready her mistress's clothes.</p>
+
+<p>Marietta tasted the melon, and it was cool and aromatic, and she stood
+eating a slice of it, just where she could look through the flowers on
+the window-sill at the door of the glass-house, so that if Zorzi passed
+again she should see him. He did not come, and she was a little
+disappointed; but the melon was very good, and afterwards she ate a few
+cherries and spread a spoonful of honey on a piece of bread, and nibbled
+at it; and she drank some of the water, looking out of the window over
+the glass.</p>
+
+<p>"Was it always so beautiful?" she asked, speaking to herself, in a sort
+of wonder at what she felt, as she set the glass upon the table.</p>
+
+<p>Nella, the maid, turned quickly to her with a look of inquiry.</p>
+
+<p>"What?" she asked. "What is beautiful? The weather? It is summer! Of
+course it is fine. Did you expect the north wind to-day, or rain from
+the southwest?"</p>
+
+<p>Marietta laughed, sweet and low. The little maid always amused her.
+There was something cheerful in the queer little scolding sentences,
+spoken with a rising inflection on almost every word, musical and yet
+always seeming to protest gently against anything Marietta said.</p>
+
+<p>"I know of something much more beautiful than the weather," Nella added,
+seeing that she got no answer except a laugh. "Do you wish to know what
+is more beautiful than a summer's day?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I know the answer to that!" cried Marietta. "You used to catch me
+in that way when I was a small girl."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, my little lady, what is the answer? I have said nothing."</p>
+
+<p>"What is more beautiful than a summer's day? Why, two summer's days, of
+course! I was always dreadfully disappointed when you gave me that
+answer, for I expected something wonderful."</p>
+
+<p>Nella shook her head as she unfolded the fine linen things, and uttered
+a sort of little clucking sound, meant to show her disapproval of such
+childish jests.</p>
+
+<p>"Tut, tut, tut! We are grown up now! Are we children? No, we are a young
+lady, beautiful and serious! Tut, tut, tut! That you should remember
+the nonsense I used to talk to make you stop crying for your mother,
+blessed soul! And I myself was so full of tears that a drop of water
+would have drowned me! But all passes, praise be to God!"</p>
+
+<p>"I hope not," said Marietta, but so low that the woman did not hear.</p>
+
+<p>"I will ask you a riddle," continued Nella presently.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh no!" laughed Marietta. "I could no more guess a riddle to-day than I
+could give a dissertation on theology. Riddles are for rainy days in
+winter, when we sit by the fire in the evening wishing it were morning
+again. I know the great riddle at last&mdash;I have found it out. It is the
+most beautiful thing in the world."</p>
+
+<p>"Then it is true," observed Nella, looking at her with satisfaction.</p>
+
+<p>"What?" asked the young girl carelessly.</p>
+
+<p>"That you are to be married."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope so," answered Marietta. "Some day, but there is time
+yet&mdash;perhaps a very long time."</p>
+
+<p>"As long as it will take to make a wedding gown embroidered with gold
+and pearls. Not a day longer than that." Nella looked very wise and
+watched her mistress's face.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"The master has ordered just such a gown. That is what I mean. Do you
+think I would talk of such a beautiful thing, just to make you unhappy,
+if you were not to have one? But you will not forget poor Nella, my
+little lady? You will take me with you to Venice?"</p>
+
+<p>"Then you think I am to marry some one from the city? What is his name?"</p>
+
+<p>"The master knows. That is enough. But it must be the Doge's son, or at
+least the son of the Admiral of Venice. It will take two months to
+embroider the gown. That means that you are to be married in August, of
+course."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think so?" asked Marietta indifferently.</p>
+
+<p>"I know it." And Nella gave a discontented little snort, for she did not
+like to have her conclusions questioned. "Am I half-witted? Am I in my
+dotage? Am I an imbecile? The gown is ordered, and that is the truth. Do
+you think the master has ordered a wedding gown embroidered with gold
+and pearls for himself?"</p>
+
+<p>Marietta tossed her hair back and shook it down her shoulders, laughing
+gaily at the idea.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" cried Nella indignantly. "Now you are mocking me! You are making a
+laughing-stock of your poor Nella! It is too bad! But you will be sorry
+that you laughed at me, when I am not here to bring you melons and
+cherries and tell you the news in the morning! You will say: 'Poor
+Nella! She was not such an ignorant person after all!' That is what you
+will say. I tell you that if your father orders a wedding gown, you are
+the only person in the house who can wear it, and he would not order it
+just to see how beautiful you would be as a bride! He is a serious man,
+the master, he is grave, he is wise! He does nothing without much
+reflection, and what he does is well done. He says, 'My daughter is to
+be married, therefore I will order a splendid dress for her.' That is
+what he says, and he orders it."</p>
+
+<p>"That has an air of reason," said Marietta gravely. "I did not mean to
+laugh at you."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, very well! If you thought your father unreasonable, what should I
+say? He does not say one thing and do another, your father. And I will
+tell you something. They will make the gown even handsomer than he
+ordered it, because he is very rich, and he will grumble and scold, but
+in the end he will pay, for the honour of the house. Then you will wear
+the gown, and all Venice will see you in it on your wedding day."</p>
+
+<p>"That will be a great thing for the Venetians," observed the young girl,
+trying not to smile.</p>
+
+<p>"They will see that there are rich men in Murano, too. It will be a
+lesson for their intolerable vanity."</p>
+
+<p>"Are the Venetians so very vain?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well! Was not my husband a Venetian, blessed soul? It seems to me that
+I should know. Have I forgotten how he would fasten a cock's feather in
+his cap, almost like a gentleman, and hang his cloak over one shoulder,
+and pull up his hose till they almost cracked, so as to show off his
+leg? Ah, he had handsome legs, my poor Vito, and he never would use
+anything but pure beeswax to stiffen his mustaches. No, he never would
+use tallow. He was almost like a gentleman!"</p>
+
+<p>Nella's little brown eyes were moist as she recalled her husband's small
+vanities; his dislike of tallow as a cosmetic seemed to affect her
+particularly.</p>
+
+<p>"That is why I say that it will be a lesson to the pride of those
+Venetians to see your marriage," she resumed, after drying her eyes with
+the back of her hand. "And the people of Murano will be there, and all
+the glass-blowers in their guild, since the master is the head of it. I
+suppose Zorzi will manage to be there, too."</p>
+
+<p>Nella spoke the last words in a tone of disapproval.</p>
+
+<p>"Why should Zorzi not be at my wedding?" asked Marietta carelessly.</p>
+
+<p>"Why should he?" asked the serving-woman with unusual bluntness. "But I
+daresay the master will find something for him to do. He is clever
+enough at doing anything."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;he is clever," assented the young girl. "Why do you not like him?
+Give me some more water&mdash;you are always afraid that I shall use too
+much!"</p>
+
+<p>"I have a conscience," grumbled Nella. "The water is brought from far,
+it is paid for, it costs money, we must not use too much of it. Every
+day the boats come with it, and the row of earthen jars in the court is
+filled, and your father pays&mdash;he always pays, and pays, and pays, till I
+wonder where the money all comes from. They say he makes gold, over
+there in the furnace."</p>
+
+<p>"He makes glass," answered Marietta. "And if he orders gowns for me
+with pearls and gold, he will not grudge me a jug of water. Why do you
+dislike Zorzi?"</p>
+
+<p>"He is as proud as a marble lion, and as obstinate as a Lombardy mule,"
+explained Nella, with fine imagery. "If that is not enough to make one
+dislike a young man, you shall tell me so! But one of those days he will
+fall. There is trouble for the proud."</p>
+
+<p>"How does his great pride show itself?" asked Marietta. "I have not
+noticed it."</p>
+
+<p>"That would indeed be the end of everything, if he showed his pride to
+you!" Nella was much displeased by the mere suggestion. "But with us it
+is different. He never speaks to the other workmen."</p>
+
+<p>"They never speak to him."</p>
+
+<p>"And quite right, too, since he holds his head so high, with no reason
+at all! But it will not last for ever! I wonder what the master would
+think, for instance, if he knew that Zorzi takes the skiff in the
+evening, and rows himself over to Venice, all alone, and comes back long
+after midnight, and sleeps in the glass-house across the way because he
+cannot get into the house. Zorzi! Zorzi! The master cannot move without
+Zorzi! And where is Zorzi at night? At home and in bed, like a decent
+young man? No. Zorzi is away in Venice, heaven knows where, doing heaven
+knows what! Do you wonder that he is so pale and tired in the morning?
+It seems to me quite natural. Eh? What do you think, my pretty lady?"</p>
+
+<p>Marietta was silent for a moment. It was only a servant's spiteful
+gossip, but it hurt her.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you sure that he goes to Venice alone at night?" she asked, after a
+little pause.</p>
+
+<p>"Am I sure that I live, that I belong to you, and that my name is Nella?
+Is not the boat moored under my window? Did I not hear the chain
+rattling softly last night? I got up and looked out, and I saw Zorzi, as
+I see you, taking the padlock off. I am not blind&mdash;praise be to heaven,
+I see. He turned the boat to the left, so he must have been going to
+Venice, and it was at least an hour after the midnight bells when I
+heard the chain again, and I looked out, and there he was. But he did
+not come into the house. And this morning I saw him coming out of the
+glass-house, just as the men went in. He was as pale as a boiled
+chicken."</p>
+
+<p>Marietta had seen him, too, and the coincidence gave colour to the rest
+of the woman's tale, as would have happened if the whole story had been
+an invention instead of being quite true. Nella was combing the girl's
+thick hair, an operation peculiarly conducive to a maid's chattering,
+for she has the certainty that her mistress cannot get away, and must
+therefore listen patiently.</p>
+
+<p>A shadow had fallen on the brightness of Marietta's morning. She was
+paler, too, but she said nothing.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course he was tired," continued Nella. "Did you suppose that he
+would come back with pink cheeks and bright eyes, like a baby from
+baptism, after being out half the night?"</p>
+
+<p>"He is always pale," said Marietta.</p>
+
+<p>"Because he goes to Venice every night," retorted Nella viciously. "That
+is the good reason! Oh, I am sure of it! And besides, I shall watch him,
+now that I know. I shall see him whenever he takes the boat."</p>
+
+<p>"It is none of your business where he goes," answered Marietta. "It does
+not concern any one but himself."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, indeed!" sneered Nella. "Then the honour of the house does not
+matter! It is no concern of ours! And your father need never know that
+his trusty servant, his clever assistant, his faithful confidant, who
+shares all his secrets, is a good-for-nothing fellow who spends his
+nights in gambling, or drinking, or perhaps in making love to some
+Venetian girl as honourable and well behaved as himself!"</p>
+
+<p>Marietta had grown steadily more angry while Nella was talking. She had
+her father's temper, though she could control it better than he.</p>
+
+<p>"I will find out whether this story is true," she said coldly. "If it is
+not, it will be the worse for you. You shall not serve me any longer,
+unless you can be more careful in what you say."</p>
+
+<p>Nella's jaw dropped and her hands stood still and trembled, the one
+holding the comb upraised, the other gathering a quantity of her
+mistress's hair. Marietta had never spoken to her like this in her life.</p>
+
+<p>"Send me away?" faltered the woman in utter amazement. "Send me away!"
+she repeated, still quite dazed. "But it is impossible&mdash;" her voice
+began to break, as if some one were shaking her violently by the
+shoulders. "Oh no, no! You w-ill n-ot&mdash;no-o-o!"</p>
+
+<p>The sound grew more piercing as she went on, and the words were soon
+lost, as she broke into a violent fit of hysterical crying.</p>
+
+<p>Marietta's anger subsided as her pity for the poor creature increased.
+She had made a great effort to speak quietly and not to say more than
+she meant, and she had certainly not expected to produce such a
+tremendous commotion. Nella tore her hair, drew her nails down her
+cheeks, as if she would tear them with scratches, rocked herself
+forwards and backwards and from side to side, the tears poured down her
+brown cheeks, she screamed and blubbered and whimpered in quick
+alternation, and in a few moments tumbled into the corner of a big
+chair, a sobbing and convulsed little heap of womanhood.</p>
+
+<p>Marietta tried to quiet her, and was so sorry for her that she could
+almost have cried too, until she remembered the detestable things which
+Nella had said about Zorzi, and which the woman's screams had driven out
+of her memory for an instant. Then she longed to beat her for saying
+them, and still Nella alternately moaned and howled, and twisted herself
+in the corner of the big chair. Marietta wondered whether her servant
+were going mad, and whether this might not be a judgment of heaven for
+telling such atrocious lies about poor Zorzi. In that case it was of
+course deserved, thought she, watching Nella's contortions; but it was
+very sudden.</p>
+
+<p>She made up her mind to call the other women, and turned to go to the
+door. As she did so her skirt caught a comb that lay on the edge of the
+table and swept it off, so that it fell upon the pavement with a dry
+rap. Instantly Nella sat up straight and rubbed her eyes, looking about
+for the cause of the sound. When she saw the comb, the serving-woman's
+instinct returned, and with it her normal condition of mind. She picked
+up the comb with a quick movement, shook her head and began combing
+Marietta's hair again before the girl could sit down.</p>
+
+<p>Peace was restored, for she did not speak again, as she helped her
+mistress to finish dressing; but though Marietta tried to look kindly at
+her once or twice, Nella quite refused to see it, and did her duty
+without ever raising her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>It was soon finished, for the pleasure the young girl had taken in
+making much of the first details of the day that was to be so happy was
+all gone. She did not believe her woman, but there was a cloud over
+everything and she was in haste to get an answer to the question which
+it would not be easy to ask. She must know if Zorzi had been to Venice
+during the night, for until she knew that, all hope of peace was at an
+end. Nella had meant no harm, but she had played the fatal little part
+in which destiny loves to go masking through life's endless play.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2>
+
+
+<p>Zorzi had slept but little after he had at last lain down upon the long
+bench in the laboratory, for the scene in which he had been the chief
+actor that night had made a profound impression upon him. There are some
+men who would not make good soldiers but who can face sudden and
+desperate danger with a calmness which few soldiers really possess, and
+which is generally accompanied by some marked superiority of mind; but
+such exceptional natures feel the reaction that follows the perilous
+moment far more than the average fighting man. They are those who
+sometimes stem the rush of panic and turn back whole armies from ruin to
+victorious battle; they are those who spring forward from the crowd to
+save life when some terrible accident has happened, as if they were
+risking nothing, and who generally succeed in what they attempt; but
+they are not men who learn to fight every day as carelessly and
+naturally as they eat, drink or sleep. Their chance of action may come
+but once or twice in a lifetime; yet when it comes it finds them far
+more ready and cool than the average good soldier could ever be. Like
+strength in some men, their courage seems to depend on quality and very
+little on quantity, training or experience.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi knew very well that although the young gentlemen who were playing
+at conspiracy in Jacopo's house did not constitute a serious danger to
+the Republic, they were fully aware of their own peril, and would not
+have hesitated to take his life if it had not occurred to them that he
+might be useful. His intrepid manner had saved him, but now that the
+night was over he felt such a weariness and lassitude as he had never
+known before.</p>
+
+<p>The adventure had its amusing side, of course. To Zorzi, who knew the
+people well, it was very laughable to think that a score of dissolute
+young patricians should first fancy themselves able to raise a
+revolution against the most firmly established government in Europe, and
+should then squander the privacy which they had bought at a frightful
+risk in mere gambling and dice-playing. But there was nothing humorous
+about the oath he had taken. In the first place, it had been sworn in
+solemn earnest, and was therefore binding upon him; secondly, if he
+broke it, his life would not be worth a day's purchase. He was brave
+enough to have scorned the second consideration, but he was far too
+honourable to try and escape the first. He had made the promises to save
+his life, it was true, and under great pressure, but he would have
+despised himself as a coward if he had not meant to keep them.</p>
+
+<p>And he had solemnly bound himself to respect "the betrothed brides" of
+all the brethren of the company. Marietta was not betrothed to Jacopo
+Contarini yet, but there was no doubt that she would be before many
+days; to "respect" undoubtedly meant that he must not try to win her
+away from her affianced husband; if he had ever dreamt that in some
+fair, fantastically improbable future, Marietta could be his wife, he
+had parted with the right to dream the like again. Therefore, when he
+had stood awhile looking up at her window that morning, he sighed
+heavily and went away.</p>
+
+<p>He had never had any hope that she would love him, much less that he
+could ever marry her, yet he felt that he was parting with the only
+thing in life which he held higher than his art, and that the parting
+was final. For months, perhaps for years, he had never closed his eyes
+to sleep without calling up her face and repeating her name, he had
+never got up in the morning without looking forward to seeing her and
+hearing her voice before he should lie down again. A man more like
+others would have said to himself that no promise could bind him to
+anything more than the performance of an action, or the abstention from
+one, and that the right of dreaming was his own for ever. But Zorzi
+judged differently. He had a sensitiveness that was rather manly than
+masculine; he had scruples of which he was not ashamed, but which most
+men would laugh at; he had delicacies of conscience in his most private
+thoughts such as would have been more natural in a cloistered nun,
+living in ignorance of the world, than in a waif who had faced it at its
+worst, and almost from childhood. Innocent as his dream had been, he
+resolved to part with it, and never to dream it again. He was glad that
+Marietta had taken back the rose he had picked up yesterday; if she had
+not, he would have forced himself to throw it away, and that would have
+hurt him.</p>
+
+<p>So he began his day in a melancholy mood, as having buried out of sight
+for ever something that was very dear to him. In time, his love of his
+art would fill the place of the other love, but on this first day he
+went about in silence, with hungry eyes and tightened lips, like a man
+who is starving and is too proud to ask a charity.</p>
+
+<p>He waited for Beroviero at the door of his house, as he did every
+morning, to attend him to the laboratory. The old man looked at him
+inquiringly, and Zorzi bent his head a little to explain that he had
+done what had been required of him, and he followed his master across
+the wooden bridge. When they were alone in the laboratory, he told as
+much of his story as was necessary.</p>
+
+<p>He had found the lord Jacopo Contarini at his house with a party of
+friends, he said, and he added at once that they were all men. Contarini
+had bidden him speak before them all, but he had whispered his message
+so that only Contarini should hear it. After a time he had been allowed
+to come away. No&mdash;Contarini had given no direct answer, he had sent no
+reply; he had only said aloud to his friends that the message he
+received was expected. That was all. The friends who were there? Zorzi
+answered with perfect truth that he did not remember to have seen, any
+of them before.</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero was silent for a while, considering the story.</p>
+
+<p>"He would have thought it discourteous to leave his friends," he said at
+last, "or to whisper an answer to a messenger in their presence. He said
+that he had expected the message, he will therefore come."</p>
+
+<p>To this Zorzi answered nothing, for he was glad not to be questioned
+further about what had happened. Presently Beroviero settled to his work
+with his usual concentration. For many months he had been experimenting
+in the making of fine red glass of a certain tone, of which he had
+brought home a small fragment from one of his journeys. Hitherto he had
+failed in every attempt. He had tried one mixture after another, and had
+produced a score of different specimens, but not one of them had that
+marvellous light in it, like sunshine striking through bright blood,
+which he was striving to obtain. It was nearly three weeks since his
+small furnace had been allowed to go out, and by this time he alone knew
+what the glowing pots contained, for he wrote down very carefully what
+he did and in characters which he believed no one could understand but
+himself.</p>
+
+<p>As usual every morning, he proceeded to make trial of the materials
+fused in the night. The furnace, though not large, held three crucibles,
+before each of which was the opening, still called by the Italian name
+'bocca,' through which the materials are put into the pots to melt into
+glass, and by which the melted glass is taken out on the end of the
+blow-pipe, or in a copper ladle, when it is to be tested by casting it.
+The furnace was arched from end to end, and about the height of a tall
+man; the working end was like a round oven with three glowing openings;
+the straight part, some twenty feet long, contained the annealing oven
+through which the finished pieces were made to move slowly, on iron
+lier-pans, during many hours, till the glass had passed from extreme
+heat almost to the temperature of the air. The most delicate vessels
+ever produced in Murano have all been made in single furnaces, the
+materials being melted, converted into glass and finally annealed, by
+one fire. At least one old furnace is standing and still in use, which
+has existed for centuries, and those made nowadays are substantially
+like it in every important respect.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi stood holding a long-handled copper ladle, ready to take out a
+specimen of the glass containing the ingredients most lately added. A
+few steps from the furnace a thick and smooth plate of iron was placed
+on a heavy wooden table, and upon this the liquid glass was to be poured
+out to cool.</p>
+
+<p>"It must be time," said Beroviero, "unless the boys forgot to turn the
+sand-glass at one of the watches. The hour is all but run out, and it
+must be the twelfth since I put in the materials."</p>
+
+<p>"I turned it myself, an hour after midnight," said Zorzi, "and also the
+next time, when it was dawn. It runs three hours. Judging by the time of
+sunrise it is running right."</p>
+
+<p>"Then make the trial."</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero stood opposite Zorzi, his face pale with heat and excitement,
+his fiery eyes reflecting the fierce light from the 'bocca' as he bent
+down to watch the copper ladle go in. Zorzi had wrapped a cloth round
+his right hand, against the heat, and he thrust the great spoon through
+the round orifice. Though it was the hundredth time of testing, the old
+man watched his movements with intensest interest.</p>
+
+<p>"Quickly, quickly!" he cried, quite unconscious that he was speaking.</p>
+
+<p>There was no need of hurrying Zorzi. In two steps he had reached the
+table, and the white hot stuff spread out over the iron plate, instantly
+turning to a greenish yellow, then to a pale rose-colour, then to a deep
+and glowing red, as it felt the cool metal. The two men stood watching
+it closely, for it was thin and would soon cool. Zorzi was too wise to
+say anything. Beroviero's look of interest gradually turned into an
+expression of disappointment.</p>
+
+<p>"Another failure," he said, with a resignation which no one would have
+expected in such a man.</p>
+
+<p>His practised eyes had guessed the exact hue of the glass, while it
+still lay on the iron, half cooled and far too hot to touch. Zorzi took
+a short rod and pushed the round sheet till a part of it was over the
+edge of the table.</p>
+
+<p>"It is the best we have had yet," he observed, looking at it.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it?" asked Beroviero with little interest, and without giving the
+glass another glance. "It is not what I am trying to get. It is the
+colour of wine, not of blood. Make something, Zorzi, while I write down
+the result of the experiment."</p>
+
+<p>He took big pen and the sheet of rough paper on which he had already
+noted the proportions of the materials, and he began to write, sitting
+at the large table before the open window. Zorzi took the long iron
+blow-pipe, cleaned it with a cloth and pushed the end through the
+orifice from which he had taken the specimen. He drew it back with a
+little lump of melted glass sticking to it.</p>
+
+<p>Holding the blow-pipe to his lips, he blew a little, and the lump
+swelled, and he swung the pipe sharply in a circle, so that the glass
+lengthened to the shape of a pear, and he blew again and it grew. At the
+'bocca' of the furnace he heated it, for it was cooling quickly; and he
+had his iron pontil ready, as there was no one to help him, and he
+easily performed the feat of taking a little hot glass on it from the
+pot and attaching it to the further end of the fast-cooling pear. If
+Beroviero had been watching him he would have been astonished at the
+skill with which the young man accomplished what it requires two persons
+to do; but Zorzi had tricks of his own, and the pontil supported itself
+on a board while he cracked the pear from the blow-pipe with a wet iron,
+as well as if a boy had held it in place for him; and then heating and
+reheating the piece, he fashioned it and cut it with tongs and shears,
+rolling the pontil on the flat arms of his stool with his left hand,
+and modelling the glass with his right, till at last he let it cool to
+its natural colour, holding it straight downward, and then swinging it
+slowly, so that it should fan itself in the air. It was a graceful calix
+now, of a deep wine red, clear and transparent as claret.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi turned to the window to show it to his master, not for the sake of
+the workmanship but of the colour. The old man's head was bent over his
+writing; Marietta was standing outside, and her eyes met Zorzi's. He did
+not blush as he had blushed yesterday, when he looked up from the fire
+and saw her; he merely inclined his head respectfully, to acknowledge
+her presence, and then he stood by the table waiting for the master to
+notice him, and not bestowing another glance on the young girl.</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero turned to him at last. He was so used to Marietta's presence
+that he paid no attention to her.</p>
+
+<p>"What is that thing?" he asked contemptuously.</p>
+
+<p>"A specimen of the glass we tried," answered the young man. "I have
+blown it thin to show the colour."</p>
+
+<p>"A man who can have such execrable taste as to make a drinking-cup of
+coloured glass does not deserve to know as much as you do."</p>
+
+<p>"But it is very pretty," said Marietta through the window, and bending
+forward she rested her white hands on the table, among the little heaps
+of chemicals. "Anneal it, and give it to me," she added.</p>
+
+<p>"Keep such a thing in my house?" asked Beroviero scornfully. "Break up
+that rubbish!" he added roughly, speaking to Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>Without a word Zorzi smashed the calix off the iron into an old earthen
+jar already half full of broken glass. Then he put the pontil in its
+place and went to tend the fire. Marietta left the window and entered
+the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Am I disturbing you?" she asked gently, as she stood by her father.</p>
+
+<p>"No. I have finished writing." He laid down his pen.</p>
+
+<p>"Another failure?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps I do not bring you good luck with your experiments," suggested
+the girl, leaning down and looking over his shoulder at the crabbed
+writing, so that her cheek almost touched his. "Is that why you wish to
+send me away?"</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero turned in his chair, raised his heavy brows and looked up into
+her face, but said nothing.</p>
+
+<p>"Nella has just told me that you have ordered my wedding gown,"
+continued Marietta.</p>
+
+<p>"We are not alone," said her father in a low voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Zorzi probably knows what is the gossip of the house, and what I have
+been the last to hear," answered the young girl. "Besides, you trust him
+with all your secrets."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I trust him," assented Beroviero. "But these are private
+matters."</p>
+
+<p>"So private, that my serving-woman knows more of them than I do."</p>
+
+<p>"You encourage her to talk."</p>
+
+<p>Marietta laughed, for she was determined to be good-humoured, in spite
+of what she said.</p>
+
+<p>"If I did, that would not teach her things which I do not know myself!
+Is it true that you have ordered the gown to be embroidered with
+pearls?"</p>
+
+<p>"You like pearls, do you not?" asked Beroviero with a little anxiety.</p>
+
+<p>"You see!" cried Marietta triumphantly. "Nella knows all about it."</p>
+
+<p>"I was going to tell you this morning," said her father in a tone of
+annoyance. "By my faith, one can keep nothing secret! One cannot even
+give you a surprise."</p>
+
+<p>"Nella knows everything," returned the girl, sitting on the corner of
+the table and looking from her father to Zorzi. "That must be why you
+chose her for my serving-woman when I was a little girl. She knows all
+that happens in the house by day and night, so that I sometimes think
+she never sleeps."</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi looked furtively towards the table, for he could not help hearing
+all that was said.</p>
+
+<p>"For instance," continued Marietta, watching him, "she knows that last
+night some one unlocked the chain that moors the skiff, and rowed away
+towards Venice."</p>
+
+<p>To her surprise Zorzi showed no embarrassment. He had made up the fire
+and now sat down at a little distance, on one of the flat arms of the
+glass-blower's working-stool. His face was pale and quiet, and his eyes
+did not avoid hers.</p>
+
+<p>"If I caught any one using my boat without my leave, I would make him
+pay dear," said Beroviero, but without anger, as if he were stating a
+general truth.</p>
+
+<p>"Whoever it was who took the boat brought it back an hour after
+midnight, locked the padlock again and went away," said Marietta.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell Nella that I am much indebted to her for her watchfulness. She is
+as good as a house-dog. Tell her to come and wake me if she sees any one
+taking the boat again."</p>
+
+<p>"She says she knows who took it last night," observed Marietta, who was
+puzzled by the attitude of the two men; she had now decided that it had
+not been Zorzi who had used the boat, but on the other hand the story
+did not rouse her father's anger as she had expected.</p>
+
+<p>"Did she tell you the man's name?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Who was it?"</p>
+
+<p>"She said it was Zorzi." Marietta laughed incredulously as she spoke,
+and Zorzi smiled quietly.</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero was silent for a moment and looked out of the window.</p>
+
+<p>"Listen to me," he said at last. "Tell your graceless gossip of a
+serving-woman that I will answer for Zorzi, and that the next time she
+hears any one taking the boat at night she had better come and call me,
+and open her eyes a little wider. Tell her also that I entertain proper
+persons to take care of my property without any help from her. Tell her
+furthermore that she talks too much. You should not listen to a
+servant's miserable chatter."</p>
+
+<p>"I will tell her," replied Marietta meekly. "Did you say that the gown
+was to be embroidered with pearls and silver, father, or with pearls and
+gold?"</p>
+
+<p>"I believe I said gold," answered the old man discontentedly.</p>
+
+<p>"And when will it be ready? In about two months?"</p>
+
+<p>"I daresay."</p>
+
+<p>"So you mean to marry me in two months," concluded Marietta. "That is
+not a long time."</p>
+
+<p>"Should you prefer two years?" inquired Beroviero with increasing
+annoyance. Marietta slipped from the table to her feet.</p>
+
+<p>"It depends on the bridegroom," she answered. "Perhaps I may prefer to
+wait a lifetime!" She moved towards the door.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you shall be satisfied with the bridegroom! I promise you that."
+The old man looked after her. At the door she turned her head, smiling.</p>
+
+<p>"I may be hard to please," she said quietly, and she went out into the
+garden.</p>
+
+<p>When she was gone Beroviero shut the window carefully, and though the
+round bull's-eye panes let in the light plentifully, they effectually
+prevented any one from seeing into the room. The door was already
+closed.</p>
+
+<p>"You should have been more careful," he said to Zorzi in a tone of
+reproach. "You should not have let any one see you, when you took the
+boat."</p>
+
+<p>"If the woman spent half the night looking out of her window, sir, I do
+not understand how I could have taken the boat without being seen by
+her."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, well, there is no harm done, and you could not help it, I
+daresay. I have something else to say. You saw the lord Jacopo last
+night; what do you think of him? He is a fine-looking young man. Should
+not any girl be glad to get such a handsome husband? What do you think?
+And his name, too! one of the best in the Great Council. They say he has
+a few debts, but his father is very rich, and has promised me that he
+will pay everything if only his son can be brought to marry and lead a
+graver life. What do you think?"</p>
+
+<p>"He is a very handsome young man," said Zorzi loyally. "What should I
+think? It is a most honourable marriage for your house."</p>
+
+<p>"I hear no great harm of Jacopo," continued Beroviero more familiarly.
+"His father is miserly. We have spent much time in the preliminary
+arrangements, without the knowledge of the son, and the old man is very
+grasping! He would take all my fortune for the dowry if he could. But he
+has to do with a glass-blower!"</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero smiled thoughtfully. Zorzi was silent, for he was suffering.</p>
+
+<p>"You may wonder why I sent that message last night," began the master
+again, "since matters are already so far settled with Jacopo's father.
+You would suppose that nothing more remained but to marry the couple in
+the presence of both families, should you not?"</p>
+
+<p>"I know little of such affairs, sir," answered Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>"That would be the usual way," continued Beroviero. "But I will not
+marry Marietta against her will. I have always told her so. She shall
+see her future husband before she is betrothed, and persuade herself
+with her own eyes that she is not being deceived into marrying a
+hunchback."</p>
+
+<p>"But supposing that after all the lord Jacopo should not be to her
+taste," suggested Zorzi, "would you break off the match?"</p>
+
+<p>"Break off the match?" cried Beroviero indignantly. "Never! Not to her
+taste? The handsomest man in Venice, with a great name and a fortune to
+come? It would not be my fault if the girl went mad and refused! I would
+make her like him if she dared to hesitate a moment!"</p>
+
+<p>"Even against her will?"</p>
+
+<p>"She has no will in the matter," retorted Beroviero angrily.</p>
+
+<p>"But you have always told her that you would not marry her against her
+will&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Do not anger me, Zorzi! Do not try your specious logic with me! Invent
+no absurd arguments, man! Against her will, indeed? How should she know
+any will but mine in the matter? I shall certainly not marry her
+against her will! She shall will what I please, neither more nor less."</p>
+
+<p>"If that is your point of view," said Zorzi, "there is no room for
+argument."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course not. Any reasonable person would laugh at the idea that a
+girl in her senses should not be glad to marry Jacopo Contarini,
+especially after having seen him. If she were not glad, she would not be
+in her senses, in other words she would not be sane, and should be
+treated as a lunatic, for her own good. Would you let a lunatic do as he
+liked, if he tried to jump out of the window? The mere thought is
+absurd."</p>
+
+<p>"Quite," said Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>Sad as he was, he could almost have laughed at the old man's
+inconsequent speeches.</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad that you so heartily agree with me," answered Beroviero in
+perfect sincerity. "I do not mean to say that I would ask your opinion
+about my daughter's marriage. You would not expect that. But I know that
+I can trust you, for we have worked together a long time, and I am used
+to hearing what you have to say."</p>
+
+<p>"You have always been very good to me," replied Zorzi gratefully.</p>
+
+<p>"You have always been faithful to me," said the old man, laying his hand
+gently on Zorzi's shoulder. "I know what that means in this world."</p>
+
+<p>As soon as there was no question of opposing his despotic will, his
+kindly nature asserted itself, for he was a man subject to quick
+changes of humour, but in reality affectionate.</p>
+
+<p>"I am going to trust you much more than hitherto," he continued. "My
+sons are grown men, independent of me, but willing to get from me all
+they can. If they were true artists, if I could trust their taste, they
+should have had my secrets long ago. But they are mere money-makers, and
+it is better that they should enrich themselves with the tasteless
+rubbish they make in their furnaces, than degrade our art by cheapening
+what should be rare and costly. Am I right?"</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed you are!" Zorzi now spoke in a tone of real conviction.</p>
+
+<p>"If I thought you were really capable of making coloured drinking-cups
+like that abominable object you made this morning, with the idea that
+they could ever be used, you should not stay on Venetian soil a day,"
+resumed the old man energetically. "You would be as bad as my sons, or
+worse. Even they have enough sense to know that half the beauty of a
+cup, when it is used, lies in the colour of the wine itself, which must
+be seen through it. But I forgive you, because you were only anxious to
+blow the glass thin, in order to show me the tint. You know better. That
+is why I mean to trust you in a very grave matter."</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi bent his head respectfully, but said nothing.</p>
+
+<p>"I am obliged to make a journey before my daughter's marriage takes
+place," continued Beroviero. "I shall entrust to you the manuscript
+secrets I possess. They are in a sealed package so that you cannot read
+them, but they will be in your care. If I leave them with any one else,
+my sons will try to get possession of them while I am away. During my
+last journey I carried them with me, but I am growing old, life is
+uncertain, especially when a man is travelling, and I would rather leave
+the packet with you. It will be safer."</p>
+
+<p>"It shall be altogether safe," said Zorzi. "No one shall guess that I
+have it."</p>
+
+<p>"No one must know. I would take you with me on this journey, but I wish
+you to go on with the experiments I have been making. We shall save
+time, if you try some of the mixtures while I am away. When it is too
+hot, let the furnace go out."</p>
+
+<p>"But who will take charge of your daughter, sir?" asked Zorzi. "You
+cannot leave her alone in the house."</p>
+
+<p>"My son Giovanni and his wife will live in my house while I am away. I
+have thought of everything. If you choose, you may bring your belongings
+here, and sleep and eat in the glass-house."</p>
+
+<p>"I should prefer it."</p>
+
+<p>"So should I. I do not want my sons to pry into what we are doing. You
+can hide the packet here, where they will not think of looking for it.
+When you go out, lock the door. When you are in, Giovanni will not come.
+You will have the place to yourself, and the boys who feed the fire at
+night will not disturb you. Of course my daughter will never come here
+while I am away. You will be quite alone."</p>
+
+<p>"When do you go?" asked Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>"On Monday morning. On Sunday I shall take Marietta to Saint Mark's.
+When she has seen her husband the betrothal can take place at once."</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi was silent, for the future looked black enough. He already saw
+himself shut up in the glass-house for two long months, or not much
+less, as effectually separated from Marietta by the narrow canal as if
+an ocean were between them. She would never cross over and spend an hour
+in the little garden then, and she would be under the care of Giovanni
+Beroviero, who hated him, as he well knew.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+
+
+<p>Aristarchi rose early, though it had been broad dawn when he had entered
+his home. He lived not far from the house of the Agnus Dei, on the
+opposite side of the same canal but beyond the Baker's Bridge. His house
+was small and unpretentious, a little wooden building in two stories,
+with a small door opening to the water and another at the back, giving
+access to a patch of dilapidated and overgrown garden, whence a second
+door opened upon a dismal and unsavoury alley. One faithful man, who had
+followed him through many adventures, rendered him such services as he
+needed, prepared the food he liked and guarded the house in his absence.
+The fellow was far too much in awe of his terrible master to play the
+spy or to ask inopportune questions.</p>
+
+<p>The Greek put on the rich dress of a merchant captain of his own people,
+the black coat, thickly embroidered with gold, the breeches of dark blue
+cloth, the almost transparent linen shirt, open at the throat. A large
+blue cap of silk and cloth was set far back on his head, showing all the
+bony forehead, and his coal-black beard and shaggy hair had been combed
+as smooth as their shaggy nature would allow. He wore a magnificent
+belt fully two hands wide, in which were stuck three knives of
+formidable length and breadth, in finely chased silver sheaths. His
+muscular legs were encased in leathern gaiters, ornamented with gold and
+silver, and on his feet he wore broad turned-up slippers from
+Constantinople. The dress was much the same as that which the Turks had
+found there a few years earlier, and which they soon amalgamated with
+their own. It set off the captain's vast breadth of shoulder and massive
+limbs, and as he stepped into his hired boat the idlers at the
+water-stairs gazed upon him with an admiration of which he was well
+aware, for besides being very splendidly dressed he looked as if he
+could have swept them all into the canal with a turn of his hand.</p>
+
+<p>Without saying whither he was bound he directed the oarsman through the
+narrow channels until he reached the shallow lagoon. The boatman asked
+whither he should go.</p>
+
+<p>"To Murano," answered the Greek. "And keep over by Saint Michael's, for
+the tide is low."</p>
+
+<p>The boatman had already understood that his passenger knew Venice almost
+as well as he. The boat shot forward at a good rate under the bending
+oar, and in twenty minutes Aristarchi was at the entrance to the canal
+of San Piero and within sight of Beroviero's house.</p>
+
+<p>"Easy there," said the Greek, holding up his hand. "Do you know Murano
+well, my man?"</p>
+
+<p>"As well as Venice, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Whose house is that, which has the upper story built on columns over
+the footway?"</p>
+
+<p>"It belongs to Messer Angelo Beroviero. His glass-house takes up all the
+left aide of the canal as far as the bridge."</p>
+
+<p>"And beyond the bridge I can see two new houses, on the same side. Whose
+are they?"</p>
+
+<p>"They belong to the two sons of Messer Angelo Beroviero, who have
+furnaces of their own, all the way to the corner of the Grand Canal."</p>
+
+<p>"Is there a Grand Canal in Murano?" asked Aristarchi.</p>
+
+<p>"They call it so," answered the boatman with some contempt. "The
+Beroviero have several houses on it, too."</p>
+
+<p>"It seems to me that Beroviero owns most of Murano," observed the Greek.
+"He must be very rich."</p>
+
+<p>"He is by far the richest. But there is Alvise Trevisan, a rich man,
+too, and there are two or three others. The island and all the
+glass-works are theirs, amongst them."</p>
+
+<p>"I have business with Messer Angelo," said Aristarchi. "But if he is
+such a great man he will hardly be in the glass-house."</p>
+
+<p>"I will ask," answered the boatman.</p>
+
+<p>In a few minutes he made his boat fast to the steps before the
+glass-house, went ashore and knocked at the door. Aristarchi leaned back
+in his seat, chewing pistachio nuts, which he carried in an embroidered
+leathern bag at his belt. His right hand played mechanically with the
+short string of thick amber beads which he used for counting. The June
+sun blazed down upon his swarthy face.</p>
+
+<p>At the grating beside the door the porter's head appeared, partially
+visible behind the bars.</p>
+
+<p>"Is Messer Angelo Beroviero within?" inquired the boatman civilly.</p>
+
+<p>"What is your business?" asked the porter in a tone of surly contempt,
+instead of answering the question.</p>
+
+<p>"There is a rich foreign gentleman here, who desires to speak with him,"
+answered the boatman.</p>
+
+<p>"Is he the Pope?" asked the porter, with fine irony.</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir," said the other, intimidated by the fellow's manner. "He is a
+rich&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Tell him to wait, then." And the surly head disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>The boatman supposed that the man was gone to speak with his master, and
+waited patiently by the door. Aristarchi chewed his pistachio nut till
+there was nothing left, at which time he reached the end of his
+patience. He argued that it was a good sign if Angelo Beroviero kept
+rich strangers waiting at his gate, for it showed that he had no need of
+their custom. On the other hand the Greek's dignity was offended now
+that he had been made to wait too long, for he was hasty by nature.
+Once, in a fit of irritation with a Candiot who stammered out of sheer
+fright, the captain had ordered him to be hanged. Having finished his
+nut, he stood up in the boat and stepped ashore.</p>
+
+<p>"Knock again," he said to the boatman, who obeyed.</p>
+
+<p>There was no answer this time.</p>
+
+<p>"I can hear the fellow inside," said the boatman.</p>
+
+<p>The grating was too high for a man to look through it from outside.
+Aristarchi laid his knotty hands on the stone sill and pulled himself up
+till his face was against the grating. He now looked in and saw the
+porter sitting in his chair.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you taken my message to your master?" inquired the Greek.</p>
+
+<p>The porter looked up in surprise, which increased when he caught sight
+of the ferocious face of the speaker. But he was not to be intimidated
+so easily.</p>
+
+<p>"Messer Angelo is not to be disturbed at his studies," he said. "If you
+wait till noon, perhaps he will come out to go to dinner."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps!" repeated Aristarchi, still hanging by his hands. "Do you
+think I shall wait all day?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do not know. That is your affair."</p>
+
+<p>"Precisely. And I do not mean to wait."</p>
+
+<p>"Then go away."</p>
+
+<p>But the Greek had come on an exploring expedition in which he had
+nothing to lose. Hauling himself up a little higher, till his mouth was
+close to the grating, he hailed the house as he would have hailed a ship
+at sea, in a voice of thunder.</p>
+
+<p>"Ahoy there! Is any one within? Ahoy! Ahoy!"</p>
+
+<p>This was more than the porter's equanimity could bear. He looked about
+for a weapon with which to attack the Greek's face through the bars,
+heaping, upon him a torrent of abuse in the meantime.</p>
+
+<p>"Son of dogs and mules!" he cried in a rising growl. "Ill befall the
+foul souls of thy dead and of their dead before them."</p>
+
+<p>"Ahoy&mdash;oh! Ahoy!" bellowed the Greek, who now thoroughly enjoyed the
+situation.</p>
+
+<p>The boatman, anxious for drink money, and convinced that his huge
+employer would get the better of the porter, had obligingly gone down
+upon his hands and knees, thrusting his broad back under the captain's
+feet, so that Aristarchi stood upon him and was now prepared to prolong
+the interview without any further effort. His terrific shouts rang
+through the corridor to the garden.</p>
+
+<p>The first person to enter the little lodge was Marietta herself, and the
+Greek broke off short in the middle of another tremendous yell as soon
+as he saw her. She turned her face up to him, quite fearlessly, and was
+very much inclined to laugh as she saw the sudden change in his
+expression.</p>
+
+<p>"Madam," he said with great politeness, "I beg you to forgive my manner
+of announcing myself. If your porter were more obliging, I should have
+been admitted in the ordinary way."</p>
+
+<p>"What is this atrocious disturbance?" asked Zorzi, entering before
+Marietta could answer. "Pray leave the fellow to me," he added, speaking
+to Marietta, who cast one more glance at Aristarchi and went out.</p>
+
+<p>"Sir," said the captain blandly, "I admit that my behaviour may give you
+some right to call me 'fellow,' but I trust that my apology will make
+you consider me a gentleman like yourself. Your porter altogether
+refused to take a message to Messer Angelo Beroviero. May I ask whether
+you are his son, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir. You say that you wish to speak with the master. I can take a
+message to him, but I am not sure that he will see any one to-day."</p>
+
+<p>Aristarchi imagined that Beroviero made himself inaccessible, in order
+to increase the general idea of his wealth and importance. He resolved
+to convey a strong impression of his own standing.</p>
+
+<p>"I am the chief partner in a great house of Greek merchants settled in
+Palermo," he said. "My name is Charalambos Aristarchi, and I desire the
+honour of speaking with Messer Angelo about the purchase of several
+cargoes of glass for the King of Sicily."</p>
+
+<p>"I will deliver your message, sir," said Zorzi. "Pray wait a minute, I
+will open the door."</p>
+
+<p>Aristarchi's big head disappeared at last.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes!" growled the porter to Zorzi. "Open the door yourself, and take
+the blame. The man has the face of a Turkish pirate, and his voice is
+like the bellowing of several bulls."</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi unbarred the door, which opened inward, and Aristarchi turned a
+little sideways in order to enter, for his shoulders would have touched
+the two door-posts. The slight and gracefully built Dalmatian looked at
+him with some curiosity, standing aside to let him pass, before barring
+the door again. Aristarchi, though not much taller than himself, was the
+biggest man he had ever seen. He thanked Zorzi, who pushed forward the
+porter's only chair for him to sit on while he waited.</p>
+
+<p>"I will bring you an answer immediately," said Zorzi, and disappeared
+down the corridor.</p>
+
+<p>Aristarchi sat down, crossed one leg over the other, and took a
+pistachio nut from his pouch.</p>
+
+<p>"Master porter," he began in a friendly tone, "can you tell me who that
+beautiful lady is, who came here a moment ago?"</p>
+
+<p>"There is no reason why I should," snarled the porter, beginning to
+strip the outer leaves from a large onion which he pulled from a string
+of them hanging by the wall.</p>
+
+<p>Aristarchi said nothing for a few moments, but watched the man with an
+air of interest.</p>
+
+<p>"Were you ever a pirate?" he inquired presently.</p>
+
+<p>"No, I never served in your crew."</p>
+
+<p>The porter was not often at a loss for a surly answer. The Greek laughed
+outright, in genuine amusement.</p>
+
+<p>"I like your company, my friend," he said. "I should like to spend the
+day here."</p>
+
+<p>"As the devil said to Saint Anthony," concluded the porter.</p>
+
+<p>Aristarchi laughed again. It was long since he had enjoyed such amusing
+conversation, and there was a certain novelty in not being feared. He
+repeated his first question, however, remembering that he had not come
+in search of diversion, but to gather information.</p>
+
+<p>"Who was the beautiful lady?" he asked. "She is Messer Angelo's
+daughter, is she not?"</p>
+
+<p>"A man who asks a question when he knows the answer is either a fool or
+a knave. Choose as you please."</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks, friend," answered Aristarchi, still grinning and showing his
+jagged teeth. "I leave the first choice to you. Whichever you take, I
+will take the other. For if you call me a knave, I shall call you a
+fool, but if you think me a fool, I am quite satisfied that you should
+be the knave."</p>
+
+<p>The porter snarled, vaguely feeling that the Greek had the better of
+him. At that moment Zorzi returned, and his coming put an end to the
+exchange of amenities.</p>
+
+<p>"My master has no long leisure," he said, "but he begs you to come in."</p>
+
+<p>They left the lodge together, and the porter watched them as they went
+down the dark corridor, muttering unholy things about the visitor who
+had disturbed him, and bestowing a few curses on Zorzi. Then he went
+back to peeling his onions.</p>
+
+<p>As Aristarchi went through the garden, he saw Marietta sitting under the
+plane-tree, making a little net of coloured beads. Her face was turned
+from him and bent down, but when he had passed she glanced furtively
+after him, wondering at his size. But her eyes followed Zorzi, till the
+two reached the door and went in. A moment later Zorzi came out again,
+leaving his master and the Greek together. Marietta looked down at
+once, lest her eyes should betray her gladness, for she knew that Zorzi
+would not go back and could not leave the glass-house, so that site
+should necessarily be alone with him while the interview in the
+laboratory lasted.</p>
+
+<p>He came a little way down the path, then stopped, took a short knife
+from his wallet and began to trim away a few withered sprigs from a
+rose-bush. She waited a moment, but he showed no signs of coming nearer,
+so she spoke to him.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you come here?" she asked softly, looking towards him with
+half-closed eyes.</p>
+
+<p>He slipped the knife back into his pouch and walked quickly to her side.
+She looked down again, threading the coloured beads that half filled a
+small basket in her lap.</p>
+
+<p>"May I ask you a question?" Her voice had a little persuasive hesitation
+in it, as if she wished him to understand that the answer would be a
+favour of which she was anything but certain.</p>
+
+<p>"Anything you will," said Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>"Provided I do not ask about my father's secret!" A little laughter
+trembled in the words. "You were so severe yesterday, you know. I am
+almost afraid ever to ask you anything again."</p>
+
+<p>"I will answer as well as I can."</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;tell me this. Did you really take the boat and go to Venice last
+night?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>Marietta's hand moved with the needle among the beads, but she did not
+thread one. Nella had been right, after all.</p>
+
+<p>"Why did you go, Zorzi?" The question came in a lower tone that was full
+of regret.</p>
+
+<p>"The master sent me," answered Zorzi, looking down at her hair, and
+wishing that he could see her face.</p>
+
+<p>His wish was almost instantly fulfilled. After the slightest pause she
+looked up at him with a lovely smile; yet when he saw that rare look in
+her face, his heart sank suddenly, instead of swelling and standing
+still with happiness, and when she saw how sad he was, she was grave
+with the instant longing to feel whatever he felt of pain or sorrow.
+That is one of the truest signs of love, but Zorzi had not learned much
+of love's sign-language yet, and did not understand.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" she asked almost tenderly.</p>
+
+<p>He turned his eyes from her and rested one hand against the trunk of the
+plane-tree.</p>
+
+<p>"I do not understand," he said slowly.</p>
+
+<p>"Why are you so sad? What is it that is always making you suffer?"</p>
+
+<p>"How could I tell you?" The words were spoken almost under his breath.</p>
+
+<p>"It would be very easy to tell me," she said. "Perhaps I could help
+you&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh no, no, no!" he cried with an accent of real pain. "You could not
+help me!"</p>
+
+<p>"Who knows? Perhaps I am the best friend you have in the world, Zorzi."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed I believe you are! No one has ever been so good to me."</p>
+
+<p>"And you have not many friends," continued Marietta. "The workmen are
+jealous of you, because you are always with my father. My brothers do
+not like you, for the same reason, and they think that you will get my
+father's secret from him some day, and outdo them all. No&mdash;you have not
+many friends."</p>
+
+<p>"I have none, but you and the master. The men would kill me if they
+dared."</p>
+
+<p>Marietta started a little, remembering how the workmen had looked at him
+in the morning, when he came out.</p>
+
+<p>"You need not be afraid," he added, seeing her movement. "They will not
+touch me."</p>
+
+<p>"Does my father know what your trouble is?" asked Marietta suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>"No! That is&mdash;I have no trouble, I assure you. I am of a melancholy
+nature."</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad it has nothing to do with the secrets," said the young girl,
+quietly ignoring the last part of his speech. "If it had, I could not
+help you at all. Could I?"</p>
+
+<p>That morning it had seemed an easy thing to wait even two years before
+giving him a sign, before dropping in his path the rose which she would
+not ask of him again. The minutes seemed years now. For she knew well
+enough what his trouble was, since yesterday; he loved her, and he
+thought it infinitely impossible, in his modesty, that she should ever
+stoop to him. After she had spoken, she looked at him with half-closed
+eyes for a while, but he stared stonily at the trunk of the tree beside
+his hand. Gradually, as she gazed, her lids opened wider, and the
+morning sunlight sparkled in the deep blue, and her fresh lips parted.
+Before she was aware of it he was looking at her with a strange
+expression she had never seen. Then she faintly blushed and looked down
+at her beads once more. She felt as if she had told him that she loved
+him. But he had not understood. He had only seen the transfiguration of
+her face, and it had been for a moment as he had never seen it before.
+Again his heart sank suddenly, and he uttered a little sound that was
+more than a sigh and less than a groan.</p>
+
+<p>"There are remedies for almost every kind of pain," said Marietta
+wisely, as she threaded several beads.</p>
+
+<p>"Give me one for mine," he cried almost bitterly. "Bid that which is to
+cease from being, and that to be which is not earthly possible! Turn the
+world back, and undo truth, and make it all a dream! Then I shall find
+the remedy and forget that it was needed."</p>
+
+<p>"There are magicians who pretend to do such things," she answered
+softly.</p>
+
+<p>"I would there were!" he sighed.</p>
+
+<p>"But those who come to them for help tell all, else the magician has no
+power. Would you call a physician, if you were ill, and tell him that
+the pain you felt was in your head, if it was really&mdash;in your heart?"</p>
+
+<p>She had paused an instant before speaking the last words, and they came
+with a little effort.</p>
+
+<p>"How could the physician cure you, if you would not tell him the truth?"
+she asked, as he said nothing. "How can the wizard work miracles for
+you, unless he knows what miracle you ask? How can your best friend help
+you if&mdash;if she does not know what help you need?"</p>
+
+<p>Still he was silent, leaning against the tree, with bent head. The pain
+was growing worse, and harder to bear. She spoke so softly and kindly
+that it would have been easy to tell her the truth, he thought, for
+though she could never love him, she would understand, and would forgive
+him. He had not dreamed that friendship could be so kind.</p>
+
+<p>"Am I right?" she asked, after a pause.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," he answered. "When I cannot bear it any longer, I will tell you,
+and you will help me."</p>
+
+<p>"Why not now?"</p>
+
+<p>The little question might have been ruinous to all his resolution, if
+Zorzi had not been almost like a child in his simplicity&mdash;or like a
+saint in his determination to be loyal. For he thought it loyalty to be
+silent, not only for the sake of the promise he had given in return for
+his life, but in respect of his master also, who put such great trust in
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"Pray do not press me with the question," he said. "You tempt me very
+much, and I do not wish to speak of what I feel. Be my friend in real
+truth, if you can, and do not ask me to say what I shall ever after wish
+unsaid. That will be the best friendship."</p>
+
+<p>Marietta looked across the garden thoughtfully, and suddenly a chilling
+doubt fell upon her heart. She could not have been mistaken yesterday,
+she could not be deceived in him now; and yet, if he loved her as she
+believed, she had said all that a maiden could to show him that she
+would listen willingly. She had said too much, and she felt ashamed and
+hurt, almost resentful. He was not a boy. If he loved her, he could find
+words to tell her so, and should have found them, for she had helped him
+to her utmost. Suddenly, she almost hated him, for what his silence made
+her feel, and she told herself that she was glad he had not dared to
+speak, for she did not love him at all. It was all a sickening mistake,
+it was all a miserable little dream; she wished that he would go away
+and leave her to herself. Not that she should shed a single tear! She
+was far too angry for that, but his presence, so near her, reminded her
+of what she had done. He must have seen, all through their talk, that
+she was trying to make him tell his love, and there was nothing to tell.
+Of course he would despise her. That was natural, but she had a right to
+hate him for it, and she would, with all her heart! Her thoughts all
+came together in a tumult of disgust and resentment. If Zorzi did not go
+away presently, she would go away herself. She was almost resolved to
+get up and leave the garden, when the door opened.</p>
+
+<p>"Zorzi!" It was Beroviero's voice.</p>
+
+<p>Aristarchi already stood in the doorway taking leave of Beroviero with,
+many oily protestations of satisfaction in having made his
+acquaintance. Zorzi went forward to accompany the Greek to the door.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall never forget that I have had the honour of being received by
+the great artist himself," said Aristarchi, who held his big cap in his
+hand and was bowing low on the threshold.</p>
+
+<p>"The pleasure has been all on my side," returned Beroviero courteously.</p>
+
+<p>"On the contrary, quite on the contrary," protested his guest, backing
+away and then turning to go.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi walked beside him, on his left. As they reached the entrance to
+the corridor Aristarchi turned once more, and made an elaborate bow,
+sweeping the ground with his cap, for Beroviero had remained at the door
+till he should be out of sight. He bent his head, making a gracious
+gesture with his hand, and went in as the Greek disappeared. Zorzi
+followed the latter, showing him out.</p>
+
+<p>Marietta saw the door close after her father, and she knew that Zorzi
+must come back through the garden in a few moments. She bent her head
+over her beads as she heard his step, and pretended not to see him. When
+he came near her he stood still a moment, but she would not look up, and
+between annoyance and disappointment and confusion she felt that she was
+blushing, which she would not have had Zorzi see for anything. She
+wondered why he did not go on.</p>
+
+<p>"Have I offended you?" he asked, in a low voice.</p>
+
+<p>Oddly enough, her embarrassment disappeared as soon as he spoke, and the
+blush faded away.</p>
+
+<p>"No," she answered, coldly enough. "I am not angry&mdash;I am only sorry."</p>
+
+<p>"But I am glad that I would not answer your question," returned Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>"I doubt whether you had any answer to give," retorted Marietta with a
+touch of scorn.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi's brows contracted sharply and he made a movement to go on. So her
+proffered friendship was worth no more than that, he thought. She was
+angry and scornful because her curiosity was disappointed. She could not
+have guessed his secret, he was sure, though that might account for her
+temper, for she would of course be angry if she knew that he loved her.
+And she was angry now because he had refused to tell her so. That was a
+woman's logic, he thought, quite regardless of the defect in his own. It
+was just like a woman! He sincerely wished that he might tell her so.</p>
+
+<p>In the presence of Marietta the man who had confronted sudden death less
+than twenty-four hours ago, with a coolness that had seemed imposing to
+other men, was little better than a girl himself. He turned to go on,
+without saying more. But she stopped him.</p>
+
+<p>"I am sorry that you do not care for my friendship," she said, in a hurt
+tone. She could not have said anything which he would have found it
+harder to answer just then.</p>
+
+<p>"What makes you think that?" he asked, hoping to gain time.</p>
+
+<p>"Many things. It is quite true, so it does not matter what makes me
+think it!"</p>
+
+<p>She tried to laugh scornfully, but there was a quaver in her voice which
+she herself had not expected and was very far from understanding. Why
+should she suddenly feel that she was going to cry? It had seemed so
+ridiculous in poor Nella that morning. Yet there was a most unmistakable
+something in her throat, which frightened her. It would be dreadful if
+she should burst into tears over her beads before Zorzi's eyes. She
+tried to gulp the something: down, and suddenly, as she bent over the
+basket, she saw the beautiful, hateful drops falling fast upon the
+little dry glass things; and even then, in her shame at being seen, she
+wondered why the beads looked, bigger through the glistening tears&mdash;she
+remembered afterwards how they looked, so she must have noticed them at
+the time.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi knew too little of women to have any idea of what he ought to do
+under the circumstances. He did not know whether to turn his back or to
+go away, so he stood still and looked at her, which was the very worst
+thing he could have done. Worse still, he tried to reason with her.</p>
+
+<p>"I assure you that you are mistaken," he said in a soothing tone. "I
+wish for your friendship with all my heart! Only, when you ask me&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, go away! For heaven's sake go away!" cried Marietta, almost
+choking, and turning her face quite away, so that he could only see the
+back of her head.</p>
+
+<p>At the same time, she tapped the ground impatiently with her foot, and
+to make matters worse, the little basket of beads began to slip off her
+knees at the same moment. She caught at it desperately, trying not to
+look round and half blinded by her tears, but she missed it, and but for
+Zorzi it would have fallen. He put it into her hands very gently, but
+she was not in the least grateful.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, please go away!" she repeated. "Can you not understand?"</p>
+
+<p>He did not understand, but he obeyed her and turned away, very grave,
+very much puzzled by this new development of affairs, and sincerely
+wishing that some wise familiar spirit would whisper the explanation in
+his ear, since he could not possibly consult any living person.</p>
+
+<p>She heard him go and she listened for the shutting of the laboratory
+door. Then she knew that she was quite alone in the garden, and she let
+the tears flow as they would, bending her head till it touched the trunk
+of the tree, and they wet the smooth bark and ran down to the dry earth.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi went in, and began to tend the fire as usual, until it should
+please the master to give him other orders. Old Beroviero was sitting in
+the big chair in which he sometimes rested himself, his elbow on one of
+its arms, and his hand grasping his beard below his chin.</p>
+
+<p>"Zorzi," he said at last, "I have seen that man before."</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi looked at him, expecting more, but for some time Beroviero said
+nothing. The young man selected his pieces of beech wood, laying them
+ready before the little opening just above the floor.</p>
+
+<p>"It is very strange," said Beroviero at last. "He seems to be a rich
+merchant now, but I am almost quite sure that I saw him in Naples."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you know him there, sir?" asked Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>"No," answered his master thoughtfully. "I saw him in a cart with his
+hands tied behind him, on his way to be hanged."</p>
+
+<p>"He looks as if one hanging would not be enough for him," observed
+Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero was silent for a moment. Then he laughed, and he laughed very
+rarely.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," he said. "It is not a face one could forget easily," he added.</p>
+
+<p>Then he rose and went back to his table.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+
+
+<p>The sun was high over Venice, gleaming on the blue lagoons that lightly
+rippled under a southerly breeze, filling the vast square of Saint
+Mark's with blinding light, casting deep shadows behind the church and
+in the narrow alleys and canals to northward, about the Merceria. The
+morning haze had long since blown away, and the outlines of the old
+church and monastery on Saint George's island, and of the buildings on
+the Guidecca, and on the low-lying Lido, were hard and clear against the
+cloudless sky, mere designs cut out in rich colours, as if with a sharp
+knife, and reared up against a background of violent light. In Venice
+only the melancholy drenching rain of a winter's day brings rest to the
+eye, when water meets water and sky is washed into sea and the city lies
+soaking and dripping between two floods. But soon the wind shifts to the
+northeast, out breaks the sun again, and all Venice is instantly in a
+glare of light and colour and startling distinctness, like the sails and
+rigging of a ship at sea on a clear day.</p>
+
+<p>It was Sunday morning and high mass was over in Saint Mark's. The crowd
+had streamed out of the central door, spreading like a bright fan over
+the square, the men in gay costumes, red, green, blue, yellow, purple,
+brown, and white, their legs particoloured in halves and quarters, so
+that when looking at a group it was mere guesswork to match the pair
+that belonged to one man; women in dresses of one tone, mostly rich and
+dark, and often heavily embroidered, for no sumptuary laws could
+effectually limit outward display, and the insolent vanity of an age
+still almost mediaeval made it natural that the rich should attire
+themselves as richly as they could, and that the poor should be despised
+for wearing poor clothes.</p>
+
+<p>Angelo Beroviero had a true Venetian's taste for splendour, but he was
+also deeply imbued with the Venetian love of secrecy in all matters that
+concerned his private life. When he bade Marietta accompany him to
+Venice on that Sunday morning, he was equally anxious that she should be
+as finely dressed as was becoming for the daughter of a wealthy citizen,
+and that she should be in ignorance of the object of the trip. She was
+not to know that Jacopo Contarini would be standing beside the second
+column on the left, watching her with lazily critical eyes; she was
+merely told that she and her father were to dine in the house of a
+certain Messer Luigi Foscarini, Procurator of Saint Mark, who was an old
+and valued friend, though a near connection of Alvise Trevisan, a rival
+glass-maker of Murano. All this had been carefully planned in order that
+during their absence Beroviero's house might be suitably prepared for
+the solemn family meeting which was to take place late in the afternoon,
+and at which her betrothal was to be announced, but of which Marietta
+knew nothing. Her father counted upon surprising her and perhaps
+dazzling her, so as to avoid all discussion and all possibility of
+resistance on her part. She should see Contarini in the church, and
+while still under the first impression of his beauty and magnificence,
+she should be told before her assembled family that she was solemnly
+bound to marry him in two months' time.</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero never expected opposition in anything he wished to do, but he
+had always heard that young girls could find a thousand reasons for not
+marrying the man their parents chose for them, and he believed that he
+could make all argument and hesitation impossible. Marietta doubtless
+expected to have a week in which to make up her mind. She should have
+five hours, and even that was too much, thought Beroviero. He would have
+preferred to march her to the altar without any preliminaries and marry
+her to Contarini without giving her a chance of seeing him before the
+ceremony. After all, that was the custom of the day.</p>
+
+<p>The fortunes of love were in his favour, for Marietta had spent three
+miserably unhappy days and nights since she had last talked with Zorzi
+in the garden. From that time he had avoided her moat carefully, never
+coming out of the laboratory when she was under the tree with her work,
+never raising his eyes to look at her when she came in and talked with
+her father. When she entered the big room, he made a solemn bow and
+occupied himself in the farthest corner so long as she remained. There
+is a stage in which even the truest and purest love of boy and maiden
+feeds on misunderstandings. In a burst of tears, and ashamed that she
+should be seen crying, Marietta had bidden him go away; in the folly of
+his young heart he took her at her word, and avoided her consistently.
+He had been hurt by the words, but by a kind of unconscious selfishness
+his pain helped him to do what he believed to be his duty.</p>
+
+<p>And Marietta forgot that he had picked up the rose dropped by her in the
+path, she forgot that she had seen him stand gazing up at her window,
+with a look that could mean only love, she forgot how tenderly and
+softly he had answered her in the garden; she only remembered that she
+had done her utmost, and too much, to make him tell her that he loved
+her, and in vain. She could not forgive him that, for even after three
+days her cheeks burned fiercely whenever she thought of it. After that,
+it mattered nothing what became of her, whether she were betrothed, or
+whether she were married, or whether she went mad, or even whether she
+died&mdash;that would be the best of all.</p>
+
+<p>In this mood Marietta entered the gondola and seated herself by her
+father on Sunday morning. She wore an embroidered gown of olive green, a
+little open at her dazzling throat, and a silk mantle of a darker tone
+hung from her shoulders, to protect her from the sun rather than from
+the air. Her russet hair was plaited in a thick flat braid, and brought
+round her head like a broad coronet of red gold, and a point lace veil,
+pinned upon it with stoat gold pins, hang down behind and was brought
+forward carelessly upon one shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>Beside her, Angelo Beroviero was splendid in dark red cloth and purple
+silk. He was proud of his daughter, who was betrothed to the heir of a
+great Venetian house, he was proud of his own achievements, of his
+wealth, of the richly furnished gondola, of his two big young oarsmen in
+quartered yellow and blue hose and snowy shirts, and of his liveried man
+in blue and gold, who sat outside the low 'felse' on a little stool,
+staff in hand, ready to attend upon his master and young mistress
+whenever they should please to go on foot.</p>
+
+<p>Marietta had got into the gondola without so much as glancing across the
+canal to see whether Zorzi were standing there to see them push off, as
+he often did when she and her father went out together. If he were
+there, she meant to show him that she could be more indifferent than he;
+if he were not, she would show herself that she did not care enough even
+to look for him. But when the gondola was out of sight of the house she
+wished she knew whether he had looked out or not.</p>
+
+<p>Her father had told her that they were going to dine with the Procurator
+Foscarini and his wife. The pair had one daughter, of Marietta's age,
+and she was a cripple from birth. Marietta was fond of her, and it was a
+relief to get away from Murano, even for half a day. The visit
+explained well enough why her father had desired her to put on her best
+gown and most valuable lace. She really had not the slightest idea that
+anything more important was on foot.</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero looked at her in silence as they sped along with the gently
+rocking motion of the gondola, which is not exactly like any other
+movement in the world. He had already noticed that she was paler than
+usual, but the extraordinary whiteness of her skin made her pallor
+becoming to her, and it was set off by the colour of her hair, as ivory
+by rough gold. He wondered whether she had guessed whither he was taking
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"It is a long time since we were in Saint Mark's together," he said at
+last.</p>
+
+<p>"It must be more than a year," answered Marietta. "We pass it often, but
+we hardly ever go in."</p>
+
+<p>"It is early," observed Beroviero, speaking as indifferently as he
+could. "When we left home it lacked an hour and a half of noon by the
+dial. Shall we go into the church for a while?"</p>
+
+<p>"If you like," replied Marietta mechanically.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing made much difference that morning, but she knew that the high
+mass would be over and that the church would be quiet and cool. It was
+not at that time the cathedral of Venice, though it had always been the
+church in which the doges worshipped in state.</p>
+
+<p>They landed at the low steps in the Rio del Palazzo, and the servant
+held out his bent elbow for Marietta to steady herself, though he knew
+that she would not touch it, for she was light and sure-footed as a
+fawn; but Beroviero leaned heavily on his man's arm. They came round
+the Patriarch's palace into the open square, whence the crowd had nearly
+all disappeared, dispersing in different directions. Just as they were
+within sight of the great doors of the church, Beroviero saw a very tall
+man in a purple silk mantle going in alone. It was Contarini, and
+Beroviero drew a little sigh of relief. The intended bridegroom was
+punctual, but Beroviero thought that he might have shown such anxiety to
+see his bride as should have brought him to the door a few minutes
+before the time.</p>
+
+<p>Marietta had drawn her veil across her face, leaving only her eyes
+uncovered, according to custom.</p>
+
+<p>"It is hot," she complained.</p>
+
+<p>"It will be cool in the church," answered her father. "Throw your veil
+back, my dear&mdash;there is no one to see you."</p>
+
+<p>"There is the sun," she said, for she had been taught that one of a
+Venetian lady's chief beauties is her complexion.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, well&mdash;there will be no sun in the church." And the old man
+hurried her in, without bestowing a glance upon the bronze horses over
+the door, to admire which he generally stopped a few moments in passing.</p>
+
+<p>They entered the great church, and the servant went before them, dipped
+his fingers in the basin and offered them holy water. They crossed
+themselves, and Marietta bent one knee, looking towards the high altar.
+A score of people were scattered about, kneeling and standing in the
+nave.</p>
+
+<p>Contarini was leaning against the second pillar on the left, and had
+been watching the door when Marietta and her father entered. Beroviero
+saw him at once, but led his daughter up the opposite side of the nave,
+knelt down beside her a moment at the screen, then crossed and came down
+the aisle, and at last turned into the nave again by the second pillar,
+so as to come upon Contarini as it were unawares. This all seemed
+necessary to him in order that Marietta should receive a very strong and
+sudden impression, which should leave no doubt in her mind. Contarini
+himself was too thoroughly Venetian not to understand what Beroviero was
+doing, and when the two came upon him, he was drawn up to his full
+height, one gloved hand holding his cap and resting on his hip; the
+other, gloveless, and white as a woman's, was twisting his silky
+mustache. Beroviero had manoeuvred so cleverly that Marietta almost
+jostled the young patrician as she turned the pillar.</p>
+
+<p>Contarini drew back with quick grace and a slight inclination of his
+body, and then pretended the utmost surprise on seeing his valued friend
+Messer Angelo Beroviero.</p>
+
+<p>"My most dear sir!" he exclaimed. "This is indeed good fortune!"</p>
+
+<p>"Mine, Messer Jacopo!" returned Beroviero with equally well-feigned
+astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>Marietta had looked Contarini full in the face before she had time to
+draw her veil across her own. She stepped back and placed herself behind
+her father, protected as it were by their serving-man, who stood beside
+her with his staff. She understood instantly that the magnificent
+patrician was the man of whom her father had spoken as her future
+husband. Seen, as she had seen him, in the glowing church, in the most
+splendid surroundings that could be imagined, he was certainly a man at
+whom any woman would look twice, even out of curiosity, and through her
+veil Marietta looked again, till she saw his soft brown eyes
+scrutinising her appearance; then she turned quickly away, for she had
+looked long enough. She saw that a woman in black was kneeling by the
+next pillar, watching her intently with a sort of cold stare that almost
+made her shudder. Yet the woman was exceedingly beautiful. It was easy
+to see that, though the dark veil hid half her face and its folds
+concealed most of her figure. The mysterious, almond-shaped eyes were
+those of another race, the marble cheek was more perfectly modelled and
+turned than an Italian's, the curling golden hair was more glorious than
+any Venetian's. Arisa had come to see her master's bride, and he knew
+that she was there looking on. Why should he care? It was a bargain, and
+he was not going to give up Arisa and the house of the Agnus Dei because
+he meant to marry the rich glass-blower's daughter.</p>
+
+<p>Marietta imagined no connection between the woman and the man, who thus
+insolently came to the same place to look at her, pretending not to know
+one another; and when she looked back at Contarini she felt a miserable
+little thrill of vanity as she noticed that he was looking fixedly at
+her, and that his eyes did not wander to the face of that other woman,
+who was so much more beautiful than herself. Perhaps, after all, he
+would really prefer her to that matchless creature close beside her!
+Nothing mattered, of course, since Zorzi did not love her, but after all
+it was flattering to be admired by Jacopo Contarini, who could choose
+his wife where he pleased, through the whole world.</p>
+
+<p>It all happened in a few seconds. The two men exchanged a few words, to
+which she paid no attention, and took leave of each other with great
+ceremony and much bowing on both sides. When her father turned at last,
+Marietta was already walking towards the door, the servant by her left
+side. Beroviero had scarcely joined her when she started a little, and
+laid her hand upon his arm.</p>
+
+<p>"The Greek merchant!" she whispered.</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero looked where she was looking. By the first pillar, gazing
+intently at Arisa's kneeling figure, stood Aristarchi, his hands folded
+over his broad chest, his shaggy head bent forward, his sturdy legs a
+little apart. He, too, had come to see the promised bride, and to be a
+witness of the bargain whereby he also was to be enriched.</p>
+
+<p>As Marietta came out of the church, she covered her face closely and
+drew her silk mantle quite round her, bending her head a little. The
+servant walked a few paces in front.</p>
+
+<p>"You have seen your future husband, my child," said Beroviero.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose that the young noble was Messer Jacopo Contarini," answered
+Marietta coldly.</p>
+
+<p>"You are hard to please, if you are not satisfied with my choice for
+you," observed her father.</p>
+
+<p>To this Marietta said nothing. She only bent her head a little lower,
+looking down as she trod delicately over the hot and dusty ground.</p>
+
+<p>"And you are a most ungrateful daughter," continued Beroviero, "if you
+do not appreciate my kindness and liberality of mind in allowing you to
+see him before you are formally betrothed."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps he is even more pleased by your liberality of mind than I could
+possibly be," retorted the young girl with unbending coldness. "He has
+probably not seen many Venetian girls of our class face to face and
+unveiled. He is to be congratulated on his good fortune!"</p>
+
+<p>"By my faith!" exclaimed Beroviero, "it is hard to satisfy you!"</p>
+
+<p>"I have asked nothing."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mean to say that you have any objections to allege against such
+a marriage?"</p>
+
+<p>"Have I said that I should oppose it? One may obey without enthusiasm."
+She laughed coldly.</p>
+
+<p>"Like the unprofitable servant! I had expected something more of you, my
+child. I have been at infinite pains and I am making great sacrifices to
+procure you a suitable husband, and there are scores of noble girls in
+Venice who would give ten years of their lives to marry Jacopo
+Contarini! And you say that you obey my commands without enthusiasm!
+You are an ungrateful&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I am not!" interrupted Marietta firmly. "I would rather not marry
+at all&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Not marry!" repeated Beroviero, interrupting her in a tone of profound
+stupefaction, and standing still in the sun as he spoke. "Why&mdash;what is
+the matter?"</p>
+
+<p>"Is it so strange that I should be contented with my girl's life?" asked
+Marietta. "Should I not be ungrateful indeed, if I wished to leave you
+and become the wife of a man I have just seen for the first time?"</p>
+
+<p>"You use most extraordinary arguments, my dear," replied Beroviero,
+quite at a loss for a suitable retort. "Of course, I have done my best
+to make you happy."</p>
+
+<p>He paused, for she had placed him in the awkward position of being angry
+because she did not wish to leave him.</p>
+
+<p>"I really do not know what to say," he added, after a moment's
+reflection.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps there is nothing to be said," answered Marietta, in a tone of
+irritating superiority, for she certainly had the best of the
+discussion.</p>
+
+<p>They had reached the gondola by this time, and as the servant sat within
+hearing at the open door of the 'felse,' they could not continue talking
+about such a matter. Beroviero was glad of it, for he regarded the
+affair as settled, and considered that it should be hastened to its
+conclusion without any further reasoning about it. If he had sent word
+to young Contarini that the answer should be given him in a week, that
+was merely an imaginary formality invented to cover his own dignity,
+since he had so far derogated from it as to allow the young man to see
+Marietta. In reality the marriage had been determined and settled
+between Beroviero and Contarini's father before anything had been said
+to either of the young people. The meeting in the church might have been
+dispensed with, if the patrician had been able to answer with certainty
+for his wild son's conduct. Jacopo had demanded it, and his father was
+so anxious for the marriage that he had communicated the request to
+Beroviero. The latter, always for his dignity's sake, had pretended to
+refuse, and had then secretly arranged the matter for Jacopo, as has
+been seen, without old Contarini's knowledge.</p>
+
+<p>Marietta leaned back under the cool, dark 'felse,' and her hands lay
+idly in her lap. She felt that she was helpless, because she was
+indifferent, and that she could even now have changed the course of her
+destiny if she had cared to make the effort. There was no reason for
+making any. She did not believe that she had really loved Zorzi after
+all, and if she had, it seemed to-day quite impossible that she should
+ever have married him. He was nothing but a waif, a half-nameless
+servant, a stranger predestined to a poor and obscure life. As she
+inwardly repeated some of these considerations, she felt a little thrust
+of remorse for trying to look down on him as impossibly far below her
+own station, and a small voice told her that he was an artist, and that
+if he had chanced to be born in Venice he would have been as good as her
+brothers.</p>
+
+<p>The future stretched out before her in a sort of dull magnificence that
+did not in the least appeal to her simple nature. She could not tell why
+she had despised Jacopo Contarini from the moment she looked into his
+beautiful eyes. Happily women are not expected to explain why they
+sometimes judge rightly at first sight, when a wise man is absurdly
+deceived. Marietta did not understand Jacopo, and she easily fancied
+that because her own character was the stronger she should rule him as
+easily as she managed Nella. It did not occur to her that he was already
+under the domination of another woman, who might prove to be quite as
+strong as she. What she saw was the weakness in his eyes and mouth. With
+such a man, she thought, there was little to fear; but there was nothing
+to love. If she asked, he would give, if she opposed him, he would
+surrender, if she lost her temper and commanded, he would obey with
+petulant docility. She should be obliged to take refuge in vanity in
+order to get any satisfaction out of her life, and she was not naturally
+vain. The luxuries of those days were familiar to her from her
+childhood. Though she had not lived in a palace, she had been brought up
+in a house that was not unlike one, she ate off silver plates and drank
+from glasses that were masterpieces of her father's art, she had coffers
+full of silks and satins, and fine linen embroidered with gold thread,
+there was always gold and silver in her little wallet-purse when she
+wanted anything or wished to give to the poor, she was waited on by a
+maid of her own like any fine lady of Venice, and there were a score of
+idle servants in a house where there were only two masters&mdash;there was
+nothing which Contarini could give her that would be more than a little
+useless exaggeration of what she had already. She had no particular
+desire to show herself unveiled to the world, as married women did, and
+she was not especially attracted by the idea of becoming one of them.
+She had been brought up alone, she had acquired tastes which other women
+had not, and which would no longer be satisfied in her married life, she
+loved the glass-house, she delighted in taking a blow-pipe herself and
+making small objects which she decorated as she pleased, she felt a
+lively interest in her father's experiments, she enjoyed the atmosphere
+of his wisdom though it was occasionally disturbed by the foolish little
+storms of his hot temper. And until now, she had liked to be often with
+Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>That was past, of course, but the rest remained, and it was much to
+sacrifice for the sake of becoming a Contarini, and living on the Grand
+Canal with a man she should always despise.</p>
+
+<p>It was clearly not the idea of marriage that surprised or repelled her,
+not even of a marriage with a man she did not know and had seen but
+once. Girls were brought up to regard marriage as the greatest thing in
+life, as the natural goal to which all their girlhood should tend, and
+at the same time they were taught from childhood that it was all to be
+arranged for them, and that they would in due course grow fond of the
+man their parents chose for them. Until Marietta had begun to love
+Zorzi, she had accepted all these things quite naturally, as a part of
+every woman's life, and it would have seemed as absurd, and perhaps as
+impossible, to rebel against them as to repudiate the religion in which
+she had been born. Such beliefs turn into prejudices, and assert
+themselves as soon as whatever momentarily retards them is removed. By
+the time the gondola drew alongside of the steps of the Foscarini
+palace, Marietta was convinced that there was nothing for her but to
+submit to her fate.</p>
+
+<p>"Then I am to be married in two months?" she said, in a tone of
+interrogation, and regardless of the servant.</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero bent his head in answer and smiled kindly; for after all, he
+was grateful to her for accepting his decision so quietly. But Marietta
+was very pale after she had spoken, for the audible words somehow made
+it all seem dreadfully real, and out of the shadows of the great
+entrance hall that opened upon the canal she could fancy Zorzi's face
+looking at her sadly and reproachfully. The bargain was made, and the
+woman he loved was sold for life. For one moment, instinctive womanhood
+felt the accursed humiliation, and the flushing blood rose in the girl's
+cool cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>She would have blushed deeper had she guessed who had been witnesses of
+her first meeting with Contarini, and old Beroviero's temper would have
+broken out furiously if he could have imagined that the Greek pirate who
+had somehow miraculously escaped the hangman in Naples had been
+contemplating with satisfaction the progress of the marriage
+negotiations, sure that he himself should before long be enjoying the
+better part of Marietta's rich dowry. If the old man could have had
+vision of Jacopo's life, and could have suddenly known what the
+beautiful woman in black was to the patrician, Contarini's chance of
+going home alive that day would have been small indeed, for Beroviero
+might have strangled him where he stood, and perhaps Aristarchi would
+have discreetly turned his back while he was doing it. For a few minutes
+they had all been very near together, the deceivers and the deceived,
+and it was not likely that they should ever all be so near again.</p>
+
+<p>Contarini had never seen the Greek, and Arisa was not aware that he was
+in the church. When Beroviero and Marietta were gone, Jacopo turned his
+back on the slave for a moment as if he meant to walk further up the
+church. Aristarchi watched them both, for in spite of all he did not
+quite trust the Georgian woman, and he had never seen her alone with
+Jacopo when she was unaware of his own presence. Yet he was afraid to go
+nearer, now, lest Arisa should accidentally see him and betray by her
+manner that she knew him.</p>
+
+<p>Jacopo turned suddenly, when he judged that he could leave the church
+without overtaking Beroviero, and he walked quietly down the nave. He
+passed close to Arisa, and Aristarchi guessed that their eyes met for a
+moment. He almost fancied that Contarini's lips moved, and he was sure
+that he smiled. But that was all, and Arisa remained on her knees, not
+even turning her head a little as her lover went by.</p>
+
+<p>"Not so ugly after all," Contarini had said, under his breath, and the
+careless smile went with the words.</p>
+
+<p>Arisa's lip curled contemptuously as she heard. She had drawn back her
+veil, her face was raised, as if she were sending up a prayer to heaven,
+and the light fell full upon the magnificent whiteness of her throat,
+that showed in strong relief against the black velvet and lace. She
+needed no other answer to what he said, but in the scorn of her curving
+mouth, which seemed all meant for Marietta, there was contempt for him,
+too, that would have cut him to the quick of his vanity.</p>
+
+<p>Aristarchi walked deliberately by the pillar to the aisle, as he passed,
+and listened for the flapping of the heavy leathern curtain at the door.
+Then he stole nearer to the place where Arisa was still kneeling, and
+came noiselessly behind her and leaned against the column, and watched
+her, not caring if he surprised her now.</p>
+
+<p>But she did not turn round. Listening intently, Aristarchi heard a soft
+quick whispering, and he saw that it was punctuated by a very slight
+occasional movement of her head.</p>
+
+<p>He had not believed her when she had told him that she said her prayers
+at night, but she was undoubtedly praying now, and Aristarchi watched
+her with interest, as he might have looked at some rare foreign animal
+whose habits he did not understand. She was very intently bent on what
+she was saying, for he stayed there some time, scarcely breathing,
+before he turned away and disappeared in the shadows with noiseless
+steps.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+
+
+<p>All through the long Sunday afternoon Zorzi sat in the laboratory alone.
+From time to time, he tended the fire, which must not be allowed to go
+down lest the quality of the glass should be injured, or at least
+changed. Then he went back to the master's great chair, and allowed
+himself to think of what was happening in the house opposite.</p>
+
+<p>In those days there was no formal betrothal before marriage, at which
+the intended bride and bridegroom joined hands or exchanged the rings
+which were to be again exchanged at the wedding. When a marriage had
+been arranged, the parents or guardians of the young couple signed the
+contract before a notary, a strictly commercial and legal formality, and
+the two families then announced the match to their respective relatives
+who were invited for the purpose, and were hospitably entertained. The
+announcement was final, and to break off a marriage after it had been
+announced was a deadly offence and was generally an irreparable injury
+to the bride.</p>
+
+<p>In Beroviero's house the richest carpets were taken from the storerooms
+and spread upon the pavement and the stairs, tapestries of great worth
+and beauty were hung upon the walls, the servants were arrayed in their
+high-day liveries and spoke in whispers when they spoke at all, the
+silver dishes were piled with sweetmeats and early fruits, and the
+silver plates had been not only scoured, but had been polished with
+leather, which was not done every day. In all the rooms that were
+opened, silken curtains had been hung before the windows, in place of
+those used at other times. In a word, the house had been prepared in a
+few hours for a great family festivity, and when Marietta got out of the
+gondola, she set her foot upon a thick carpet that covered the steps and
+was even allowed to hang down and dip itself in the water of the canal
+by way of showing what little value was set upon it by the rich man.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi had known that the preparations were going forward, and he knew
+what they meant. He would rather see nothing of them, and when the
+guests were gone, old Beroviero would come over and give him some final
+instructions before beginning his journey; until then he could be alone
+in the laboratory, where only the low roar of the fire in the furnace
+broke the silence.</p>
+
+<p>Marietta's head was aching and she felt as if the hard, hot fingers of
+some evil demon were pressing her eyeballs down into their sockets. She
+sat in an inner chamber, to which only women were admitted. There she
+sat, in a sort of state, a circlet of gold set upon her loosened hair,
+her dress all of embroidered white silk, her shoulders covered with a
+wide mantle of green and gold brocade that fell in heavy folds to the
+floor. She wore many jewels, too, such as she would not have worn in
+public before her marriage. They had belonged to her mother, like the
+mantle, and were now brought out for the first time. It was very hot,
+but the windows were shut lest the sound of the good ladies' voices
+should be heard without; for the news that Marietta was to be married
+had suddenly gone abroad through Murano, and all the idlers, and the men
+from the furnaces, where no work was done on Sunday, as well as all the
+poor, were assembled on the footway and the bridge, and in the narrow
+alleys round the house. They all pushed and jostled each other to see
+Beroviero's friends and relations, as they emerged from beneath the
+black 'felse' of their gondolas to enter the house. In the hall the
+guests divided, and the men gathered in a large lower chamber, while the
+women went upstairs to offer their congratulations to Marietta, with
+many set compliments upon her beauty, her clothes and her jewels, and
+even with occasional flattering allusions to the vast dowry her husband
+was to receive with her.</p>
+
+<p>She listened wearily, and her head ached more and more, so that she
+longed for the coolness of her own room and for Nella's soothing
+chatter, to which she was so much accustomed that she missed it if the
+little brown woman chanced to be silent.</p>
+
+<p>The sun went down and wax candles were brought, instead of the tall oil
+lamps that were used on ordinary days. It grew hotter and hotter, the
+compliments of the ladies seemed more and more dull and stale, her
+mantle was heavy and even the gold circlet on her hair was a burden.
+Worse than all, she knew that every minute was carrying her further and
+further into the dominion of the irrevocable whence she could never
+return.</p>
+
+<p>She had looked at the palaces she had passed in Venice that morning,
+some in shadow, some in sunlight, some with gay faces and some grave,
+but all so different from the big old house in Murano, that she did not
+wish to live in them at all. It would have been much easier to submit if
+she had been betrothed to a foreigner, a Roman, or a Florentine. She had
+been told that Romans were all wicked and gloomy, and that Florentines
+were all wicked and gay. That was what Nella had heard. But in a sense
+they were free, for they probably did what was good in their own eyes,
+as wicked people often do. Life in Venice was to be lived by rule, and
+everything that tasted of freedom was repressed by law. If it pleased
+women to wear long trains the Council forbade them; if they took refuge
+in long sleeves, thrown back over their shoulders, a law was passed
+which set a measure and a pattern for all sleeves that might ever be
+worn. If a few rich men indulged their fancy in the decoration of their
+gondolas, now that riding was out of fashion, the Council immediately
+determined that gondolas should be black and that they should only be
+gilt and adorned inside. As for freedom, if any one talked of it he was
+immediately tortured until he retracted all his errors, and was then
+promptly beheaded for fear that he should fall again into the same
+mistake. Nella said so, and told hideous tales of the things that had
+been done to innocent men in the little room behind the Council chamber
+in the Palace. Besides, if one talked of justice, there was Zorzi's case
+to prove that there was no justice at all in Venetian law. Marietta
+suddenly wished that she were wicked, like the Romans and the
+Florentines; and even when she reflected that it was a sin to wish that
+one were bad, she was not properly repentant, because she had a very
+vague notion of what wickedness really was. Righteousness seemed just
+now to consist in being smothered in heavy clothes, in a horribly hot
+room, while respectable women of all ages, fat, thin, fair, red-haired,
+dark, ugly and handsome, all chattered at her and overwhelmed her with
+nauseous flattery.</p>
+
+<p>She thought of that morning in the garden, three days ago, when
+something she did not understand had been so near, just before
+disappearing for ever. Then her throat tightened and she saw
+indistinctly, and her lips were suddenly dry. After that, she remembered
+little of what happened on that evening, and by and by she was alone in
+her own room without a light, standing at the open window with bare feet
+on the cold pavement, and the night breeze stirred her hair and brought
+her the scent of the rosemary and lavender, while she tried to listen to
+the stars, as if they were speaking to her, and lost herself in her
+thoughts for a few moments before going to sleep.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi was still sitting in the big chair against the wall when he heard
+a footstep in the garden, and as he rose to look out Beroviero entered.
+The master was wrapped in a long cloak that covered something which he
+was carrying. There was no lamp in the laboratory, but the three fierce
+eyes of the furnace shed a low red glare in different directions.
+Beroviero had given orders that the night boys should not come until he
+sent for them.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought it wiser to bring this over at night," he said, setting a
+small iron box on the table.</p>
+
+<p>It contained the secrets of Paolo Godi, which were worth a great fortune
+in those times.</p>
+
+<p>"Of all my possessions," said the old man, laying his hands upon the
+casket, "these are the most valuable. I will not hide them alone, as I
+might, because if any harm befell me they would be lost, and might be
+found by some unworthy person."</p>
+
+<p>"Could you not leave them with some one else, sir?" asked Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>"No. I trust no one else. Let us hide them together to-night, for
+to-morrow I must leave Venice. Take up one of the large flagstones
+behind the annealing oven, and dig a hole underneath it in the ground.
+The place will be quite dry, from the heat of the oven."</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi lit a lamp with a splinter of wood which he thrust into the
+'bocca' of the furnace; he took a small crowbar from the corner and set
+to work. The laboratory contained all sorts of builder's tools, used
+when the furnace needed repairing. He raised one of the slabs with
+difficulty, turned it over, propped it with a billet of beech wood, and
+began to scoop out a hole in the hard earth, using a mason's trowel.
+Beroviero watched him, holding the box in his hands.</p>
+
+<p>"The lock is not very good," he said, "but I thought the box might keep
+the packet from dampness."</p>
+
+<p>"Is the packet properly sealed?" asked Zorzi, looking up.</p>
+
+<p>"You shall see," answered the master, and he set down the box beside the
+lamp, on the broad stone at the mouth of the annealing oven. "It is
+better that you should see for yourself."</p>
+
+<p>He unlocked the box and took out what seemed to be a small book,
+carefully tied up in a sheet of parchment. The ends of the silk cord
+below the knot were pinched in a broad red seal. Zorzi examined the wax.</p>
+
+<p>"You sealed it with a glass seal," he observed. "It would not be hard to
+make another."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think it would be so easy?" asked Beroviero, who had made the
+seal himself many years ago.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi held the impression nearer to the lamp and scrutinised it closely.</p>
+
+<p>"No one will have a chance to try," he said, with a slight gesture of
+indifference. "It might not be so easy."</p>
+
+<p>The old man looked at him a moment, as if hesitating, and then put the
+packet back into the box and locked the latter with the key that hung
+from his neck by a small silver chain.</p>
+
+<p>"I trust you," he said, and he gave the box to Zorzi, to be deposited in
+the hole.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi stood up, and taking a little tow from the supply used for
+cleaning the blow-pipes, he dipped it into the oil of the lamp and
+proceeded to grease the box carefully before hiding it.</p>
+
+<p>"It would rust," he explained.</p>
+
+<p>He laid the box in the hole and covered it with earth before placing the
+stone over it.</p>
+
+<p>"Be careful to make the stone lie quite flat," said Angelo, bending down
+and gathering his gown off the floor in a bunch at his knees. "If it
+does not lie flat, the stone will move when the boys tread on it, and
+they may think of taking it up."</p>
+
+<p>"It is very heavy," answered the young man. "It was as much as I could
+do to heave it up. You need not be afraid of the boys."</p>
+
+<p>"It is not a very safe place, I fear, after all," returned Beroviero
+doubtfully. "Be sure to leave no marks of the crowbar, and no loose
+earth near it."</p>
+
+<p>The heavy slab slipped into its bed with a soft thud. Zorzi took the
+lamp and examined the edges. One of them was a little chipped by the
+crowbar, and he rubbed it with the greasy tow and scattered dust over
+it. Then he got a cypress broom and swept the earth carefully away into
+a heap. Beroviero himself brought the shovel and held it close to the
+stones while Zorzi pushed the loose earth upon it.</p>
+
+<p>"Carry it out and scatter it in the garden," said the old man.</p>
+
+<p>It was the first time that he had allowed his affection for Zorzi to
+express itself so strongly, for he was generally a very cautious person.
+He took the young man's hand and held it a moment, pressing it kindly.</p>
+
+<p>"It was not I who made the law against strangers, and it was not meant
+for men like you," he added.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi knew how much this meant from such a master and he would have
+found words for thanks, had he been able; but when he tried, they would
+not come.</p>
+
+<p>"You may trust me," was all he could say.</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero left him, and went down the dark corridor with the firm step
+of a man who knows his way without light.</p>
+
+<p>In the morning, when he left the house to begin his journey, Zorzi stood
+by the steps with the servant to steady the gondola for him. His horses
+were to be in waiting in Venice, whence he was to go over to the
+mainland. He nodded to the young man carelessly, but said nothing, and
+no one would have guessed how kindly he had spoken to him on the
+previous night. Giovanni Beroviero took ceremonious leave of his father,
+his cap in his hand, bending low, a lean man, twenty years older than
+Marietta, with an insignificant brow and clean-shaven, pointed jaw and
+greedy lips. Marietta stood within the shadow of the doorway, very pale.
+Nella was beside her, and Giovanni's wife, and further in, at a
+respectful distance, the serving-people, for the master's departure was
+an event of importance.</p>
+
+<p>The gondola pushed off when Beroviero had disappeared under the 'felse'
+with a final wave of the hand. Zorzi stood still, looking after his
+master, and Marietta came forward to the doorstep and pretended to watch
+the gondola also. Zorzi was the first to turn, and their eyes met. He
+had not expected to see her still there, and he started a little.
+Giovanni looked at him coldly.</p>
+
+<p>"You had better go to your work," he said in a sour tone. "I suppose my
+father has told you what to do."</p>
+
+<p>The young artist flushed, but answered quietly enough.</p>
+
+<p>"I am going to my work," he said. "I need no urging."</p>
+
+<p>Before he put on his cap, he bent his head to Marietta; then he passed
+on towards the bridge.</p>
+
+<p>"That fellow is growing insolent," said Giovanni to his sister, but he
+was careful that Zorzi should not hear the words. "I think I shall
+advise our father to turn him out."</p>
+
+<p>Marietta looked at her brother with something like contempt.</p>
+
+<p>"Since when has our father consulted you, or taken your advice?" she
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I presume he takes yours," retorted Giovanni, regretting that he could
+not instantly find a sharper answer, for he was not quick-witted though
+he was suspicious.</p>
+
+<p>"He needs neither yours nor mine," said Marietta, "and he trusts whom he
+pleases."</p>
+
+<p>"You seem inclined to defend his servants when they are insolent,"
+answered Giovanni.</p>
+
+<p>"For that matter, Zorzi is quite able to defend himself!" She turned her
+back on her brother and went towards the stairs, taking Nella with her.</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni glanced at her with annoyance and walked along the footway in
+the direction of his own glass-house, glad to go back to a place where
+he was absolute despot. But he had been really surprised that Marietta
+should boldly take the Dalmatian's side against him, and his narrow
+brain brooded upon the unexpected circumstance. Besides the dislike he
+felt for the young artist, his small pride resented the thought that his
+sister, who was to marry a Contarini, should condescend to the defence
+of a servant.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi went his way calmly and spent the day in the laboratory. He was in
+a frame of mind in which such speeches as Giovanni's could make but
+little impression upon him, sensitive though he naturally was. Really
+great sorrows, or great joys or great emotions, make smaller ones almost
+impossible for the time. Men of vast ambition, whose deeds are already
+moving the world and making history, are sometimes as easily annoyed by
+trifles as a nervous woman; but he who knows that what is dearest to him
+is slipping from his hold, or has just been taken, is half paralysed in
+his sense of outward things. His own mind alone has power to give him a
+momentary relief.</p>
+
+<p>Herein lies one of the strongest problems of human nature. We say with
+assurance that the mind rules the body, we feel that the spirit in some
+way overshadows and includes the mind. Yet if this were really true the
+spirit&mdash;that is, the will&mdash;should have power against bodily pain, but
+not against moral suffering except with some help from a higher source.
+But it is otherwise. If the will of ordinary human beings could
+hypnotise the body against material sensation, the credit due to those
+brave believers in all ages who have suffered cruel torments for their
+faith would be singularly diminished. If the mind could dominate matter
+by ordinary concentration of thought, a bad toothache should have no
+effect upon the delicate imagination of the poet, and Napoleon would not
+have lost the decisive battle of his life by a fit of indigestion, as
+has been asserted.</p>
+
+<p>On the other hand, there was never yet a man of genius, or even of great
+talent, who was not aware that the most acute moral anguish can be
+momentarily forgotten, as if it did not exist for the time, by
+concentrating the mind upon its accustomed and favourite kind of work.
+Johnson wrote <i>Rasselas</i> to pay for the funeral of his yet unburied
+mother, and Johnson was a man of heart if ever one lived; he could not
+have written the book if he had had a headache. Saints and ascetics
+without end and of many persuasions have resorted to bodily pain as a
+means of deadening the imagination and exalting the will or spirit. Some
+great thinkers have been invalids, but in every case their food, work
+has been done when they were temporarily free from pain. Perhaps the
+truth is on the side of those mystics who say that although the mind is
+of a higher nature than matter, it is so closely involved with it that
+neither can get away from the other, and that both together tend to shut
+out the spirit and to forget its existence, which is a perpetual
+reproach to them; and any ordinary intellectual effort being produced by
+the joint activity of mind and the matter through which the mind acts,
+the condition of the spirit at the time has little or no effect upon
+them, nor upon what they are doing. And if one would carry the little
+theory further, one might find that the greatest works of genius have
+been produced when the effort of mind and matter has taken place under
+the inspiration of the spirit, so that all three were momentarily
+involved together. But such thoughts lead far, and it may be that they
+profit little. The best which a man means to do is generally better than
+the best he does, and it is perhaps the best he is capable of doing.</p>
+
+<p>Be these things as they may, Zorzi worked hard in the laboratory,
+minutely carrying out the instructions he had received, but reasoning
+upon them with a freshness and keenness of thought of which his master
+was no longer capable. When he had made the trials and had added the new
+ingredients for future ones, he began to think out methods of his own
+which had suggested themselves to him of late, but which he had never
+been able to try. But though he had the furnace to himself, to use as
+long as he could endure the heat of the advancing summer, he was face
+to face with a difficulty that seemed insuperable.</p>
+
+<p>The furnace had but three crucibles, each of which contained one of the
+mixtures by means of which he and Beroviero were trying to produce the
+famous red glass. In order to begin to make glass in his own way, it was
+necessary that one of the three should be emptied, but unless he
+disobeyed his orders this was out of the question. In his train of
+thought and longing to try what he felt sure must succeed, he had
+forgotten the obstacle. The check brought him back to himself, and he
+walked disconsolately up and down the long room by the side of the
+furnace.</p>
+
+<p>Everything was against him, said the melancholy little demon that
+torments genius on dark days. It was not enough that he should be forced
+by every consideration of honour and wisdom to hide his love for his
+master's daughter; when he took refuge in his art and tried to throw his
+whole life into it, he was stopped at the outset by the most impassable
+barriers of impossibility. The furious desire to create, which is the
+strength as well as the essence of genius, surged up and dashed itself
+to futile spray upon the face of the solid rock.</p>
+
+<p>He stood still before the hanging shelves on which he had placed the
+objects he had occasionally made, and which his master allowed him to
+keep there&mdash;light, air-thin vessels of graceful shapes: an ampulla of
+exquisite outline with a long curved spout that bent upwards and then
+outwards and over like the stalk of a lily of the valley; a large
+drinking-glass set on a stem so slender that one would doubt its
+strength to carry the weight of a full measure, yet so strong that the
+cup might have been filled with lead without breaking it; a broad dish
+that was nothing but a shadow against the light, but in the shadow was a
+fair design of flowers, drawn free with a diamond point; there were a
+dozen of such things on the shelves, not the best that Zorzi had made,
+for those Beroviero took to his own house and used on great occasions,
+while these were the results of experiments unheard of in those days,
+and which not long afterwards made a school.</p>
+
+<p>In his present frame of mind Zorzi felt a foolish impulse to take them
+down and smash them one by one in the big jar into which the failures
+were thrown, to be melted again in the main furnace, for in a
+glass-house nothing is thrown away. He knew it was foolish, and he held
+his hands behind him as he looked at the things, wishing that he had
+never made them, that he had never learned the art he was forbidden by
+law to practise, that he had never left Dalmatia as a little boy long
+ago, that he had never been born.</p>
+
+<p>The door opened suddenly and Giovanni entered. Zorzi turned and looked
+at him in silence. He was surprised, but he supposed that the master's
+son had a right to come if he chose, though he never showed himself in
+the glass-house when his father was in Murano.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you alone here?" asked Giovanni, looking about him. "Do none of the
+workmen come here?"</p>
+
+<p>"The master has left me in charge of his work," answered Zorzi. "I need
+no help."</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni seated himself in his father's chair and looked at the table
+before the window.</p>
+
+<p>"It is not very hard work, I fancy," he observed, crossing one leg over
+the other and pulling up his black hose to make it fit his lean calf
+better.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi suspected at once that he had come in search of information, and
+paused before answering.</p>
+
+<p>"The work needs careful attention," he said at last.</p>
+
+<p>"Most glass-work does," observed Giovanni, with a harsh little laugh.
+"Are you very attentive, then? Do you remember to do all that my father
+told you?"</p>
+
+<p>"The master only left this morning. So far, I have obeyed his orders."</p>
+
+<p>"I do not understand how a man who is not a glass-blower can know enough
+to be left alone in charge of a furnace," said Giovanni, looking at
+Zorzi's profile.</p>
+
+<p>This time Zorzi was silent. He did not think it necessary to tell how
+much he knew.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose my father knows what he is about," continued Giovanni, in a
+tone of disapproval.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi thought so too, and no reply seemed necessary. He stood still,
+looking out of the window, and wishing that his visitor would go away.
+But Giovanni had no such intention.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you making?" he asked presently.</p>
+
+<p>"A certain kind of glass," Zorzi answered.</p>
+
+<p>"A new colour?"</p>
+
+<p>"A certain colour. That is all I can tell you."</p>
+
+<p>"You can tell me what colour it is," said Giovanni. "Why are you so
+secret? Even if my father had ordered you to be silent with me about his
+work, which I do not believe, you would not be betraying anything by
+telling me that. What colour is he trying to make?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am to say nothing about it, not even to you. I obey my orders."</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni was a glass-maker himself. He rose with an air of annoyance and
+crossed the laboratory to the jar in which the broken glass was kept,
+took out a piece and held it up against the light. Zorzi had made a
+movement as if to hinder him, but he realised at once that he could not
+lay hands on his master's son. Giovanni laughed contemptuously and threw
+the fragment back into the jar.</p>
+
+<p>"Is that all? I can do better than that myself!" he said, and he sat
+down again in the big chair.</p>
+
+<p>His eyes fell on the shelves upon which Zorzi's specimens of work were
+arranged. He looked at them with interest, at once understanding their
+commercial value.</p>
+
+<p>"My father can make good things when he is not wasting time over
+discoveries," he remarked, and rising again he went nearer and began to
+examine the little objects.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi said nothing, and after looking at them a long time Giovanni
+turned away and stood before the furnace. The copper ladle with which
+the specimens were taken from the pots lay on the brick ledge near one
+of the 'boccas.' Giovanni took it, looked round to see where the iron
+plate for testing was placed, and thrust the ladle into the aperture,
+holding it lightly lest the heat should hurt his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"You shall not do that!" cried Zorzi, who was already beside him.</p>
+
+<p>Before Giovanni knew what was happening Zorzi had struck the ladle from
+his hand, and it disappeared through the 'bocca' into the white-hot
+glass within.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2>
+
+
+<p>With an oath Giovanni raised his hand to strike Zorzi in the face, but
+the quick Dalmatian snatched up his heavy blow-pipe in both hands and
+stood in an attitude of defence.</p>
+
+<p>"If you try to strike me, I shall defend myself," he said quietly.</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni's sour face turned grey with fright, and then as his impotent
+anger rose, the grey took an almost greenish hue that was bad to see. He
+smiled in a sickly fashion. Zorzi set the blow-pipe upright against the
+furnace and watched him, for he saw that the man was afraid of him and
+might act treacherously.</p>
+
+<p>"You need not be so violent," said Giovanni, and his voice trembled a
+little, as he recovered himself. "After all, my father would not have
+made any objection to my trying the glass. If I had, I could not have
+guessed how it was made."</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi did not answer, for he had discovered that silence was his best
+weapon. Giovanni continued, in the peevish tone of a man who has been
+badly frightened and is ashamed of it.</p>
+
+<p>"It only shows how ignorant you are of glass-making, if you suppose that
+my father would care." As he still got no reply beyond a shrug of the
+shoulders, he changed the subject. "Did you see my father make any of
+those things?" he asked, pointing to the shelves.</p>
+
+<p>"No," answered Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>"But he made them all here, did he not?" insisted Giovanni. "And you are
+always with him."</p>
+
+<p>"He did not make any of them."</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni opened his eyes in astonishment. In his estimation there was no
+man living, except his father, who could have done such work. Zorzi
+smiled, for he knew what the other's astonishment meant.</p>
+
+<p>"I made them all," he said, unable to resist the temptation to take the
+credit that was justly his.</p>
+
+<p>"You made those things?" repeated Giovanni incredulously.</p>
+
+<p>But Zorzi was not in the least offended by his disbelief. The more
+sceptical Giovanni was, the greater the honour in having produced
+anything so rarely beautiful.</p>
+
+<p>"I made those, and many others which the master keeps in his house," he
+said.</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni would have liked to give him the lie, but he dared not just
+then.</p>
+
+<p>"If you made them, you could make something of the kind again," he said.
+"I should like to see that. Take your blow-pipe and try. Then I shall
+believe you."</p>
+
+<p>"There is no white glass in the furnace," answered Zorzi. "If there
+were, I would show you what I can do."</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni laughed sourly.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought you would find some good excuse," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"The master saw me do the work," answered Zorzi unconcernedly. "Ask him
+about it when he comes back."</p>
+
+<p>"There are other furnaces in the glass-house," suggested Giovanni. "Why
+not bring your blow-pipe with you and show the workmen as well as me
+what you can do?"</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi hesitated. It suddenly occurred to him that this might be a
+decisive moment in his life, in which the future would depend on the
+decision he made. In all the years since he had been with Beroviero he
+had never worked at one of the great furnaces among the other men.</p>
+
+<p>"I daresay your sense of responsibility is so great that you do not like
+to leave the laboratory, even for half an hour," said Giovanni
+scornfully. "But you have to go home at night."</p>
+
+<p>"I sleep here," answered Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed?" Giovanni was surprised. "I see that your objections are
+insuperable," he added with a laugh.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi was in one of those moods in which a man feels that he has nothing
+to lose. There might, however, be something to gain by exhibiting his
+skill before Giovanni and the men. His reputation as a glass-maker would
+be made in half an hour.</p>
+
+<p>"Since you do not believe me, come," he said at last. "You shall see for
+yourself."</p>
+
+<p>He took his blow-pipe and thrust it through one of the 'boccas' to melt
+off the little red glass that adhered to it. Then he cooled it in water,
+and carefully removed the small particles that stuck to the iron here
+and there like spots of glazing.</p>
+
+<p>"I am ready," he said, when he had finished.</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni rose and led the way, without a word. Zorzi followed him, shut
+the door, turned the key twice and thrust it into the bosom of his
+doublet. Giovanni turned and watched him.</p>
+
+<p>"You are really very cautions," he said. "Do you always lock the door
+when you go out?"</p>
+
+<p>"Always," answered Zorzi, shouldering his blow-pipe.</p>
+
+<p>They crossed the little garden and entered the passage that led to the
+main furnace rooms. In the first they entered, eight or ten men and
+youths, masters and apprentices, were at work. The place was higher and
+far more spacious than the laboratory, the furnace was broader and
+taller and had four mouths instead of three. The sunlight streamed
+through a window high above the floor and fell upon the arched back of
+the annealing oven, the window being so placed that the sun could never
+shine upon the working end and dazzle the workmen.</p>
+
+<p>When Giovanni and Zorzi entered, the men were working in silence. The
+low and steady roar of the flames was varied by the occasional sharp
+click of iron or the soft sound of hot glass rolling on the marver, or
+by the hiss of a metal instrument plunged into water to cool it. Every
+man had an apprentice to help him, and two boys tended the fire. The
+foreman sat at a table, busy with an account, a small man, even paler
+than the others and dressed in shabby brown hose and a loose brown coat.
+The workmen wore only hose and shirts.</p>
+
+<p>Without desisting from their occupations they cast surprised glances at
+Giovanni and his companion, whom they all hated as a favoured person.
+One of them was finishing a drinking-glass, rolling the pontil on the
+arms of the working-stool; another, a beetle-browed fellow, swung his
+long blow-pipe with its lump of glowing glass in a full circle, high in
+air and almost to touch the ground; another was at a 'bocca' in the low
+glare; all were busy, and the air was very hot and close. The men looked
+grim and ill-tempered.</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni explained the object of his coming in a way intended to
+conciliate them to himself at Zorzi's expense. Their presence gave him
+courage.</p>
+
+<p>"This is Zorzi, the man without a name," he said, "who is come from
+Dalmatia to give us a lesson in glass-blowing."</p>
+
+<p>One of the men laughed, and the apprentices tittered. The others looked
+as if they did not understand. Zorzi had known well enough what humour
+he should find among them, but he would not let the taunt go unanswered.</p>
+
+<p>"Sirs," he said, for they all claimed the nobility of the glass-blowers'
+caste, "I come not to teach you, but to prove to the master's son that I
+can make some trifle in the manner of your art."</p>
+
+<p>No one spoke. The workmen in the elder Beroviero's house knew well
+enough that Zorzi was a better artist than they, and they had no mind to
+let him outdo them at their own furnace.</p>
+
+<p>"Will any one of you gentlemen allow me to use his place?" asked Zorzi
+civilly.</p>
+
+<p>Not a man answered. In the sullen silence the busy hands moved with
+quick skill, the furnace roared, the glowing glass grew in ever-changing
+shapes.</p>
+
+<p>"One of you must give Zorzi his place," said Giovanni, in a tone of
+authority.</p>
+
+<p>The little foreman turned quite round in his chair and looked on. There
+was no reply. The pale men went on with their work as if Giovanni were
+not there, and Zorzi leaned calmly on his blow-pipe. Giovanni moved a
+step forward and spoke directly to one of the men who had just dropped a
+finished glass into the bed of soft wood ashes, to be taken to the
+annealing oven.</p>
+
+<p>"Stop working for a while," he said. "Let Zorzi have your place."</p>
+
+<p>"The foreman gives orders here, not you," answered the man coolly, and
+he prepared to begin another piece.</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni was very angry, but there were too many of the workmen, and he
+did not say what rose to his lips, but crossed over to the foreman.
+Zorzi kept his place, waiting to see what might happen.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you be so good as to order one of the men to give up his place?"
+Giovanni asked.</p>
+
+<p>The old foreman smiled at this humble acknowledgment of his authority,
+but he argued the point before acceding.</p>
+
+<p>"The men know well enough what Zorzi can do," he answered in a low
+voice. "They dislike him, because he is not one of us. I advise you to
+take him to your own glass-house, sir, if you wish to see him work. You
+will only make trouble here."</p>
+
+<p>"I am not afraid of any trouble, I tell you," replied Giovanni. "Please
+do what I ask."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well. I will, but I take no responsibility before the master if
+there is a disturbance. The men are in a bad humour and the weather is
+hot."</p>
+
+<p>"I will be responsible to my father," said Giovanni.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well," repeated the old man. "You are a glass-maker yourself, like
+the rest of us. You know how we look upon foreigners who steal their
+knowledge of our art."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish to make sure that he has really stolen something of it."</p>
+
+<p>The foreman laughed outright.</p>
+
+<p>"You will be convinced soon enough!" he said. "Give your place to the
+foreigner, Piero," he added, speaking to the man who had refused to move
+at Giovanni's bidding.</p>
+
+<p>Piero at once chilled the fresh lump of glass he had begun to fashion
+and smashed it off the tube into the refuse jar. Without a word Zorzi
+took his place. While he warmed the end of his blow-pipe at the 'bocca'
+he looked to right and left to see where the working-stool and marver
+were placed, and to be sure that the few tools he needed were at hand,
+the pontil, the 'procello,'&mdash;that is, the small elastic tongs for
+modelling&mdash;and the shears. Piero's apprentice had retired to a distance,
+as he had received no special orders, and the workmen hoped that Zorzi
+would find himself in difficulty at the moment when he would turn in the
+expectation of finding the assistant at his elbow. But Zorzi was used to
+helping himself. He pushed his blow-pipe into the melted glass and drew
+it out, let it cool a moment and then thrust it in again to take up more
+of the stuff.</p>
+
+<p>The men went on with their work, seeming to pay no attention to him, and
+Piero turned his back and talked to the foreman in low tones. Only
+Giovanni watched, standing far enough back to be out of reach of the
+long blow-pipe if Zorzi should unexpectedly swing it to its full length.
+Zorzi was confident and unconcerned, though he was fully aware that the
+men were watching every movement he made, while pretending not to see.
+He knew also that owing to his being partly self-taught he did certain
+things in ways of his own. They should see that his ways were as good as
+theirs, and what was more, that he needed no help, while none of them
+could do anything without an apprentice.</p>
+
+<p>The glass grew and swelled, lengthened and contracted with his breath
+and under his touch, and the men, furtively watching him, were amazed to
+see how much he could do while the piece was still on the blow-pipe.
+But when he could do no more they thought that he would have trouble. He
+did not even turn his head to see whether any one was near to help him.
+At the exact moment when the work was cool enough to stand he attached
+the pontil with its drop of liquid glass to the lower end, as he had
+done many a time in the laboratory, and before those who looked on could
+fully understand how he had done it without assistance, the long and
+heavy blow-pipe lay on the floor and Zorzi held his piece on the lighter
+pontil, heating it again at the fire.</p>
+
+<p>The men did not stop working, but they glanced at each other and nodded,
+when Zorzi could not see them. Giovanni uttered a low exclamation of
+surprise. The foreman alone now watched Zorzi with genuine admiration;
+there was no mistaking the jealous attitude of the others. It was not
+the mean envy of the inferior artist, either, for they were men who, in
+their way, loved art as Beroviero himself did, and if Zorzi had been a
+new companion recently promoted from the state of apprenticeship in the
+guild, they would have looked on in wonder and delight, even if, at the
+very beginning, he outdid them all. What they felt was quite different.
+It was the deep, fierce hatred of the mediaeval guildsman for the
+stranger who had stolen knowledge without apprenticeship and without
+citizenship, and it was made more intense because the glass-blowers were
+the only guild that excluded every foreign-born man, without any
+exception. It was a shame to them to be outdone by one who had not
+their blood, nor their teaching, nor their high acknowledged rights.</p>
+
+<p>They were peaceable men in their way, not given to quarrelling, nor
+vicious; yet, excepting the mild old foreman, there was not one of them
+who would not gladly have brought his iron blow-pipe down on Zorzi's
+head with a two-handed swing, to strike the life out of the intruder.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi's deft hands made the large piece he was forming spin on itself
+and take new shape at every turn, until it had the perfect curve of
+those slim-necked Eastern vessels for pouring water upon the hands,
+which have not even now quite degenerated from their early grace of
+form. While it was still very hot, he took a sharp pointed knife from
+his belt and with a turn of his hand cut a small round hole, low down on
+one side. The mouth was widened and then turned in and out like the leaf
+of a carnation. He left the cooling piece on the pontil, lying across
+the arms of the stool, and took his blow-pipe again.</p>
+
+<p>"Has the fellow not finished his tricks yet?" asked Piero
+discontentedly.</p>
+
+<p>It would have given him pleasure to smash the beautiful thing to atoms
+where it lay, almost within his reach. Zorzi began to make the spout,
+for it was a large ampulla that he was fashioning. He drew the glass
+out, widened it, narrowed it, cut it, bent it and finished off the
+nozzle before he touched it with wet iron and made it drop into the
+ashes. A moment later he had heated the thick end of it again and was
+welding it over the hole he had made in the body of the vessel.</p>
+
+<p>"The man has three hands!" exclaimed the foreman.</p>
+
+<p>"And two of them are for stealing," added Piero.</p>
+
+<p>"Or all three," put in the beetle-browed man who was working next to
+Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi looked at him coldly a moment, but said nothing. They did not mean
+that he was a thief, except in the sense that he had stolen his
+knowledge of their art. He went on to make the handle of the ampulla, an
+easy matter compared with making the spout. But the highest part of
+glass-blowing lies in shaping graceful curves, and it is often in the
+smallest differences of measurement that the pieces made by Beroviero
+and Zorzi&mdash;preserved intact to this day&mdash;differ from similar things made
+by lesser artists. Yet in those little variations lies all the great
+secret that divides grace from awkwardness. Zorzi now had the whole
+vessel, with its spout and handle, on the pontil. It was finished, but
+he could still ornament it. His own instinct was to let it alone,
+leaving its perfect shape and airy lightness to be its only beauty, and
+he turned it thoughtfully as he looked at it, hesitating whether he
+should detach it from the iron, or do more.</p>
+
+<p>"If you have finished your nonsense, let me come back to my work," said
+Piero behind him.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi did not turn to answer, for he had decided to add some delicate
+ornaments, merely to show Giovanni that he was a full master of the art.
+The dark-browed man had just collected a heavy lump of glass on the end
+of his blow-pipe, and was blowing into it before giving it the first
+swing that would lengthen it out. He and Piero exchanged glances,
+unnoticed by Zorzi, who had become almost unconscious of their hostile
+presence. He began to take little drops of glass from the furnace on the
+end of a thin iron, and he drew them out into thick threads and heated
+them again and laid them on the body of the ampulla, twisting and
+turning each bit till he had no more, and forming a regular raised
+design on the surface. His neighbour seemed to get no further with what
+he was doing, though he busily heated and reheated his lump of glass and
+again and again swung his blow-pipe round his head, and backward and
+forward. The foreman was too much interested in Zorzi to notice what the
+others were doing.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi was putting the last touches to his work. In a moment it would be
+finished and ready to go to the annealing oven, though he was even then
+reflecting that the workmen would certainly break it up as soon as the
+foreman turned his back. The man next to him swung his blow-pipe again,
+loaded with red-hot glass.</p>
+
+<p>It slipped from his hand, and the hot mass, with the full weight of the
+heavy iron behind it, landed on Zorzi's right foot, three paces away,
+with frightful force. He uttered a sharp cry of surprise and pain. The
+lovely vessel he had made flew from his hands and broke into a thousand
+tiny fragments. In excruciating agony he lifted the injured foot from
+the ground and stood upon the other. Not a hand was stretched out to
+help him, and he felt that he was growing dizzy. He made a frantic
+effort to hop on one leg towards the furnace, so as to lean against the
+brickwork. Piero laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"He is a dancer!" he cried. "He is a 'ballarino'!" The others all
+laughed, too, and the name remained his as long as he lived&mdash;he was
+Zorzi Ballarin.</p>
+
+<p>The old foreman came to help him, seeing that he was really injured, for
+no one had quite realised it at first. Savagely as they hated him, the
+workmen would not have tortured him, though they might have killed him
+outright if they had dared. Excepting Piero and the man who had hurt
+him, the workmen all went on with their work.</p>
+
+<p>He was ghastly pale, and great drops of sweat rolled down his forehead
+as he reached the foreman's chair and sat down: but after the first cry
+he had uttered, he made no sound. The foreman could hear how his teeth
+ground upon each other as he mastered the frightful suffering. Giovanni
+came, and stood looking at the helpless foot, smashed by the weight that
+had fallen upon it and burned to the bone in an instant by the molten
+glass.</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot walk," he said at last to the foreman. "Will you help me?"</p>
+
+<p>His voice was steady but weak. The foreman and Giovanni helped him to
+stand on his left foot, and putting his arms round their necks he swung
+himself along as he could. The dark man had picked up his blow-pipe and
+was at work again.</p>
+
+<p>"You will pay for that when the master comes back," Piero said to him as
+Zorzi passed. "You will starve if you are not careful."</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi turned his head and looked the dark man full in the eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"It was an accident," he said faintly. "You did not mean to do it."</p>
+
+<p>The man looked away shamefacedly, for he knew that even if he had not
+meant to injure Zorzi for life, he had meant to hurt him if he could.</p>
+
+<p>As for Giovanni, he was puzzled by all that had happened so
+unexpectedly, for he was a dull man, though very keen for gain, and he
+did not understand human nature. He disliked Zorzi, but during the
+morning he had become convinced that the gifted young artist was a
+valuable piece of property, and not, as he had supposed, a clever
+flatterer who had wormed himself into old Beroviero's confidence. A man
+who could make such things was worth much money to his master. There
+were kings and princes, from the Pope to the Emperor, who would have
+given a round sum in gold for the beautiful ampulla of which only a heap
+of tiny fragments were now left to be swept away.</p>
+
+<p>The two men brought Zorzi across the garden to the door of the
+laboratory. Leaning heavily on the foreman he got the key out, and
+Giovanni turned it in the lock. They would have taken him to the small
+inner room, to lay him on his pallet bed, but he would not go.</p>
+
+<p>"The bench," he managed to say, indicating it with a nod of his head.</p>
+
+<p>There was an old leathern pillow in the big chair. The foreman took it
+and placed it under Zorzi's head.</p>
+
+<p>"We must get a surgeon to dress his wound," said the foreman.</p>
+
+<p>"I will send for one," answered Giovanni. "Is there anything you want
+now?" he asked, with an attempt to speak kindly to the valuable piece of
+property that lay helpless before him.</p>
+
+<p>"Water," said Zorzi very faintly. "And feed the fire&mdash;it must be time."</p>
+
+<p>The foreman dipped a cupful of water from an earthen jar, held up his
+head and helped him to drink. Giovanni pushed some wood into the
+furnace.</p>
+
+<p>"I will send for a surgeon," he repeated, and went out.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi closed his eyes, and the foreman stood looking at him.</p>
+
+<p>"Do not stay here," Zorzi said. "You can do nothing for me, and the
+surgeon will come presently."</p>
+
+<p>Then the foreman also left him, and he was alone. It was not in his
+nature to give way to bodily pain, but he was glad the men were gone,
+for he could not have borne much more in silence. He turned his head to
+the wall and bit the edge of the leathern cushion. Now and then his
+whole body shook convulsively.</p>
+
+<p>He did not hear the door open again, for the torturing pain that shot
+through him dulled all his other senses. He wished that he might faint
+away, even for a moment, but his nerves were too sound for that. He was
+recalled to outer things by feeling a hand laid gently on his leg, and
+immediately afterwards he heard a man's voice, in a quietly gruff tone
+that scarcely rose or fell, reciting a whole litany of the most
+appalling blasphemies that ever fell from human lips. For an instant, in
+his suffering, Zorzi fancied that he had died and was in the clutches of
+Satan himself.</p>
+
+<p>He turned his head on the cushion and saw the ugly face of the old
+porter, who was bending down and examining the wounded foot while he
+steadily cursed everything in heaven and earth, with an earnestness that
+would have been grotesque had his language been less frightful. For a
+few moments Zorzi almost forgot that he was hurt, as he listened. Not a
+saint in the calendar seemed likely to escape the porter's fury, and he
+even went to the length of cursing the relatives, male and female, of
+half-legendary martyrs and other good persons about whose families he
+could not possibly know anything.</p>
+
+<p>"For heaven's sake, Pasquale!" cried Zorzi. "You will certainly be
+struck by lightning!"</p>
+
+<p>He had always supposed that the porter hated him, as every one else did,
+and he could not understand. By this time he was far more helpless than
+he had been just after he had been hurt, and when he tried to move the
+injured foot to a more comfortable position it felt like a lump of
+scorching lead.</p>
+
+<p>The porter entered upon a final malediction, which might be supposed to
+have gathered destructive force by collecting into itself all those that
+had gone before, and he directed the whole complex anathema upon the
+soul of the coward who had done the foul deed, and upon his mother, his
+sisters and his daughters if he had any, and upon the souls of all his
+dead relations, men, women and children, and all of his relations that
+should ever be born, to the end of time. He had been a sailor in his
+youth.</p>
+
+<p>"Who did that to you?" he asked, when he had thus devoted the unknown
+offender to everlasting perdition.</p>
+
+<p>"Give me some water, please," said Zorzi, instead of answering the
+question.</p>
+
+<p>"Water! Oh yes!" Pasquale went to the earthen jar. "Water! Every devil
+in hell, old and young, will jump and laugh for joy when that man asks
+for water and has to drink flames!"</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi drank eagerly, though the water was tepid.</p>
+
+<p>"Drink, my son," said Pasquale, holding his head up very tenderly with
+one of his rough hands. "I will put more within reach for you to drink,
+while I go and get help."</p>
+
+<p>"They have sent for a surgeon," answered Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>"A surgeon? No surgeon shall come here. A surgeon will divide you into
+lengths, fore and aft, and kill you by inches, a length each day, and
+for every day he takes to kill you, he will ask a piece of silver of the
+master! If a surgeon comes here I will throw him out into the canal.
+This is a burn, and it needs an old woman to dress it. Women are evil
+beings, a chastisement sent upon us for our sins. But an old woman can
+dress a burn. I go. There is the water."</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi called him back when he was already at the door.</p>
+
+<p>"The fire! It must not go down. Put a little wood in, Pasquale!"</p>
+
+<p>The old porter grumbled. It was unnatural that a man so badly hurt
+should think of his duties, but in his heart he admired Zorzi all the
+more for it. He took some wood, and when Zorzi looked, he was trying to
+poke it through the 'bocca.'</p>
+
+<p>"Not there!" cried Zorzi desperately. "The small opening on the side,
+near the floor."</p>
+
+<p>Pasquale uttered several maledictions.</p>
+
+<p>"How should I know?" he asked when he had found the right place. "Am I a
+night boy? Have I ever tended fires for two pence a night and my supper?
+There! I go!"</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi could hear his voice still, as he went out.</p>
+
+<p>"A surgeon!" he grumbled. "I should like to see the nose of that surgeon
+at the door!"</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi cared little who came, so that he got some relief. His head was
+hot now, and the blood beat in his temples like little fiery hammers,
+that made a sort of screaming noise in his brain. He saw queer lights in
+circles, and the beams of the ceiling came down very near, and then
+suddenly went very far away, so that the room seemed a hundred feet
+high. The pain filled all his right side, and he even thought he could
+feel it in his arm.</p>
+
+<p>All at once he started, and as he lay on his back his hands tried to
+grip the flat wood of the bench, and his eyes were wide open and fixed
+in a sort of frightened stare.</p>
+
+<p>What if he should go mad with pain? Who would remember the fire in the
+master's furnace? Worse than that, what safety was there that in his
+delirium he should not speak of the book that was hidden under the
+stone, the third from the oven and the fourth from the corner?</p>
+
+<p>His brain whirled but he would not go mad, nor lose consciousness, so
+long as he had the shadow of free will left. Rather than lie there on
+his back, he would get off his bench, cost what it might, and drag
+himself to the mouth of the furnace. There was a supply of wood there,
+piled up by the night boys for use during the day. He could get to it,
+even if he had to roll himself over and over on the floor. If he could
+do that, he could keep his hold upon his consciousness, the touch of the
+billets would remind him, the heat and the roar of the fire would keep
+him awake and in his right mind.</p>
+
+<p>He raised himself slowly and put his uninjured foot to the floor. Then,
+with both hands he lifted the other leg off the bench. He was conscious
+of an increase of pain, which had seemed impossible. It shot through and
+through his whole body; and he saw flames. There was only one way to do
+it, he must get down upon his hands and his left knee and drag himself
+to the furnace in that way. It was a thing of infinite difficulty and
+suffering, but he did it. Inch by inch, he got nearer.</p>
+
+<p>As his right hand grasped a billet of wood from the little pile,
+something seemed to break in his head. His strength collapsed, he fell
+forward from his knee to his full length in the ashes and dust, and he
+felt nothing more.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2>
+
+
+<p>The porter unbarred the door and looked out. It was nearly noon and the
+southerly breeze was blowing. The footway was almost deserted. On the
+other side of the canal, in the shadow of the Beroviero house, an old
+man who sold melons in slices had gone to sleep under a bit of ragged
+awning, and the flies had their will of him and his wares. A small boy
+simply dressed in a shirt, and nothing else, stood at a little distance,
+looking at the fruit and listening attentively to the voice of the
+tempter that bade him help himself.</p>
+
+<p>Pasquale looked at the house opposite. Everything was quiet, and the
+shutters were drawn together, but not quite closed. The flowers outside
+Marietta's window waved in the light breeze.</p>
+
+<p>"Nella!" cried Pasquale, just as he was accustomed to call the maid when
+Marietta wanted her.</p>
+
+<p>At the sound of his voice the little boy, who was about to deal
+effectually with his temptation by yielding to it at once, took to his
+heels and ran away. But no one looked out from the house. Pasquale
+called again, somewhat louder. The shutters of Marietta's window were
+slowly opened inward and Marietta herself appeared, all in white and
+pale, looking over the flowers.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" she asked. "Why do you want Nella?"</p>
+
+<p>The canal was narrow, so that one could talk across it almost in an
+ordinary tone.</p>
+
+<p>"Your pardon, lady," answered Pasquale. "I did not mean to disturb you.
+There has been a little accident here, saving your grace."</p>
+
+<p>This he added to avert possible ill fortune. Marietta instantly thought
+of Zorzi. She leaned forward upon the window-sill above the flowers and
+spoke anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>"What has happened? Tell me quickly!"</p>
+
+<p>"A man has had his foot badly burned&mdash;it must be dressed at once."</p>
+
+<p>"Who is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Zorzi."</p>
+
+<p>Pasquale saw that Marietta started a little and drew back. Then she
+leaned forward again.</p>
+
+<p>"Wait there a minute," she said, and disappeared quickly.</p>
+
+<p>The porter heard her calling Nella from an inner room, and then he heard
+Nella's voice indistinctly. He waited before the open door.</p>
+
+<p>Nella was a born chatterer, but she had her good qualities, and in an
+emergency she was silent and skilful.</p>
+
+<p>"Leave it to me," she said. "He will need no surgeon."</p>
+
+<p>In her room she had a small store of simple remedies, sweet oil, a pot
+of balsam, old linen carefully rolled up in little bundles, a precious
+ointment made from the fat of vipers, which was a marvellous cure for
+rheumatism in the joints, some syrup of poppies in a stumpy phial, a box
+of powdered iris root, and another of saffron. She took the sweet oil,
+the balsam, and some linen. She also took a small pair of scissors which
+were among her most precious possessions. She threw her large black
+kerchief over her head and pinned it together under her chin.</p>
+
+<p>When she came back to Marietta's room, her mistress was wrapped in a
+dark mantle that covered hear thin white dress entirely, and one corner
+of it was drawn up over her head so as to hide her hair and almost all
+her face. She was waiting by the door.</p>
+
+<p>"I am going with you," she said, and her voice was not very steady.</p>
+
+<p>"But you will be seen&mdash;" began Nella.</p>
+
+<p>"By the porter."</p>
+
+<p>"Your brother may see you&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"He is welcome. Come, we are losing time." She opened the door and went
+out quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall certainly be sent away for letting you come!" protested Nella,
+hurrying after her.</p>
+
+<p>Marietta did not even answer this, which Nella thought very unkind of
+her. From the main staircase Marietta turned off at the first landing,
+and went down a short corridor to the back stairs of the house, which
+led to the narrow lane beside the building. Nella snorted softly in
+approval, for she had feared that her mistress would boldly pass through
+the hall where there were always one or two idle men-servants in
+waiting. The front door was closed against the heat, they had met no one
+and they reached the door of the glass-house without being seen.</p>
+
+<p>Pasquale looked at Marietta but said nothing until all three were
+inside. Then he took hold of Marietta's mantle at her elbow, and held
+her back. She turned and looked at him in amazement.</p>
+
+<p>"You must not go in, lady," he said. "It is an ugly wound to see."</p>
+
+<p>Marietta pushed him aside quietly, and led the way. Nella followed her
+as fast as she could, and Pasquale came last. He knew that the two women
+would need help.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi lay quite still where he had fallen, with one hand on the billet
+of beech wood, the other arm doubled under him, his cheek on the dusty
+stone. With a sharp cry Marietta ran forward and knelt beside his head,
+dropping her long mantle as she crossed the room. Pasquale uttered an
+uncompromising exclamation of surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"O, most holy Mary!" cried Nella, holding up her hands with the things
+she carried.</p>
+
+<p>Marietta believed that Zorzi was dead, for he was very white and he lay
+quite still. At first she opened her eyes wide in horror, but in a
+moment she sank down, covering her face. Pasquale knelt opposite her on
+one knee, and began to turn Zorzi on his back. Nella was at his feet,
+and she helped, with great gentleness.</p>
+
+<p>"Do not be frightened, lady," said Pasquale reassuringly. "He has only
+fainted. I left him on the bench, but you see he must have tried to get
+up to feed the fire."</p>
+
+<p>While he spoke he was lifting Zorzi as well as he could. Marietta
+dropped her hands and slowly opened her eyes, and she knew that Zorzi
+was alive when she saw his face, though it was ghastly and smeared with
+grey ashes. But in those few moments she had felt what she could never
+forget. It had been as if a vast sword-stroke had severed her body at
+the waist, and yet left her heart alive.</p>
+
+<p>"Can you help a little?" asked Pasquale. "If I could get him into my
+arms, I could carry him alone."</p>
+
+<p>Marietta sprang to her feet, all her energy and strength returning in a
+moment. The three carried the unconscious man easily enough to the bench
+and laid him down, as he had lain before, with his head on the leathern
+cushion. Then Nella set to work quickly and skilfully, for she hoped to
+dress the wound while he was still insensible. Marietta helped her,
+instinctively doing what was right. It was a hideous wound.</p>
+
+<p>"It will heal more quickly than you think," said Nella, confidently.
+"The burning has cauterised it."</p>
+
+<p>Marietta, delicately reared and unused to such sights, would have felt
+faint if the man had not been Zorzi. As it was she only felt sharp pain,
+each time that Nella touched the foot. Pasquale looked on, helpless but
+approving.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi groaned, then opened his eyes and moved one hand. Nella had almost
+finished.</p>
+
+<p>"If only he can be kept quiet a few moments longer," she said, "it will
+be well done."</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi writhed in pain, only half conscious yet. Marietta left Nella to
+put on the last bandages, and came and looked down into his face, taking
+one of his hands in hers. He recognised her, and stared in wild
+surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"You must try and not move," she said softly. "Nella has almost
+finished."</p>
+
+<p>He forgot what he suffered, and the agonised contraction of his brows
+and mouth relaxed. Marietta wiped away the ashes from his forehead and
+cheeks, and smoothed back his thick hair. No woman's hand had touched
+him thus since his mother's when he had been a little child. He was too
+weak to question what was happening to him, but a soft light came into
+his eyes, and he unconsciously pressed Marietta's hand.</p>
+
+<p>She blushed at the pressure, without knowing why, and first the maiden
+instinct was to draw away her hand, but then she pitied him and let it
+stay. She thought, too, that her touch helped to keep him quiet, and
+indeed it did.</p>
+
+<p>"How did you know?" he asked at length, for in his half consciousness it
+had seemed natural that she should have come to him when she heard that
+he was hurt.</p>
+
+<p>"Pasquale called Nella," she answered simply, "and I came too. Is the
+pain still very great?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is much less. How can I thank you?"</p>
+
+<p>She looked into his eyes and smiled as he had seen her smile once or
+twice before in his life. His memory all came back now. He knew that
+she ought not to have been there, since her father was away. His
+expression changed suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>"What is the matter?" asked Marietta. "Does it hurt very much?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," he said. "I was thinking&mdash;" He checked himself, and glanced at the
+porter.</p>
+
+<p>A distant knocking was heard at the outer door, Pasquale shuffled off to
+see who was there.</p>
+
+<p>"I will wager that it is the surgeon!" he grumbled. "Evil befall his
+soul! We do not want him."</p>
+
+<p>"What were you going to say?" asked Marietta, bending down. "There is
+only Nella here now."</p>
+
+<p>"Nella should not have let you come," said Zorzi. "If it is known, your
+father will be very angry."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, do you see?" cried Nella, rising, for she had finished. "Did I not
+tell you so, my pretty lady? And if your brother finds out that you have
+been here he will go into a fury like a wild beast! I told you so! And
+as for your help, indeed, I could have brought another woman, and there
+was Pasquale, too. I suppose he has hands. Oh, there will be a beautiful
+revolution in the house when this is known!"</p>
+
+<p>But Marietta did not mean to acknowledge that she had done anything but
+what was perfectly right and natural under the circumstances; to admit
+that would have been to confess that she had not come merely out of pity
+and human kindness.</p>
+
+<p>"It is absurd," she said with a little indignation. "I shall tell my
+brother myself that Zorzi was hurt, and that I helped you to dress his
+wound. And what is more, Nella, you will have to come; again, and I
+shall come with you as often as I please. All Murano may know it for
+anything I care."</p>
+
+<p>"And Venice too?" asked Nella, shaking her head in disapproval. "What
+will they say in Casa Contarini when they hear that you have actually
+gone out of the house to help a wounded young man in your father's
+glass-house?"</p>
+
+<p>"If they are human, they will say that I was quite right," answered
+Marietta promptly. "If they are not, why should I care what they say?"</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi smiled. At that moment Pasquale passed the window, and then came
+in by the open door, growling. His ugly face was transfigured by rage,
+until it had a sort of grotesque grandeur, and he clenched his fist as
+he began to speak.</p>
+
+<p>"Animals! Beasts! Brutes! Worse than savages! He was almost incoherent.</p>
+
+<p>"Well? What has happened now?" asked. Nella. "You talk like a mad dog.
+Remember the young lady!"</p>
+
+<p>"It would make a leaden statue speak!" answered Pasquale. "The Signor
+Giovanni sends a boy to say that the Surgeon was not at home, because he
+had gone to shave the arch-priest of San Piero!"</p>
+
+<p>In spite of the great pain he still suffered, Zorzi laughed, a little.</p>
+
+<p>"You said that you would throw, him into the canal if he came at all,"
+he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, and so I meant to do!" cried Pasquale. "But that is no reason why
+the inhuman monster should be shaving the arch-priest when a man might
+be dying for need of him! Oh, let him come here! Oh, I advise him to
+come! The miserable, cowardly, bloodletting, soap-sudding, shaving
+little beast of a barber!"</p>
+
+<p>Pasquale drew a long breath after this, and unclenched his fist, but his
+lips still moved, as he said things to himself which would have shocked
+Marietta if she could have had the least idea of what they meant.</p>
+
+<p>"You cannot stay here," she said, turning to Zorzi again. "You cannot
+lie on this bench all day."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall soon be able to stand," answered Zorzi confidently. "I am much
+better."</p>
+
+<p>"You will not stand on that foot for many a day," said Nella, shaking
+her head.</p>
+
+<p>"Then Pasquale must get me a pair of crutches," replied Zorzi. "I cannot
+lie on my back because I have hurt one foot. I must tend the furnace, I
+must go on with my work, I must make the tests, I must&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He stopped short and bit his lip, turning white again as a spasm of
+excruciating pain shot along his right side, from his foot upwards.
+Marietta bent over him, full of anxiety.</p>
+
+<p>"You are suffering!" she said tenderly. "You must not try to move."</p>
+
+<p>"It is nothing," he answered through his closed teeth. "It will pass, I
+daresay."</p>
+
+<p>"It will not pass to-day," said Nella. "But I will bring you some syrup
+of poppies. That will make you sleep."</p>
+
+<p>Marietta seemed to feel the pain herself. She smoothed the leathern
+cushion under his head as well as she could, and softly touched his
+forehead. It was hot and dry now.</p>
+
+<p>"He is feverish," she said to Nella anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>"I will bring him barley water with the syrup of poppies. What do you
+expect? Do you think that such a wound and such a burn are cooling to
+the blood, and refreshing to the brain? The man is badly hurt. Of course
+he is feverish. He ought to be in his bed, like a decent Christian."</p>
+
+<p>"Some one must help me with the work," said Zorzi faintly.</p>
+
+<p>"There is no one but me," answered Marietta after a moment's pause.</p>
+
+<p>"You?" cried Nella, greatly scandalised.</p>
+
+<p>Even Pasquale stared at Marietta in silent astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she said quietly. "There is no one else who knows enough about my
+father's work."</p>
+
+<p>"That is true," said Zorzi. "But you cannot come here and work with me."</p>
+
+<p>Marietta turned away and walked to the window. In her thin dress she
+stood there a few minutes, like a slender lily, all white and gold in
+the summer light.</p>
+
+<p>"It is out of the question!" protested Nella. "Her brother will never
+allow her to come. He will lock her up in her own room for safety, till
+the master comes home."</p>
+
+<p>"I think I shall always do just what I think right," said Marietta
+quietly, as if to herself.</p>
+
+<p>"Lord!" cried Nella. "The young lady is going mad!"</p>
+
+<p>Nella was gathering together the remains of the things she had brought.
+Exhausted by the pain he had suffered, and by the efforts he had made to
+hide it, Zorzi lay on his back, looking with half-closed eyes at the
+graceful outline of the girl's figure, and vaguely wishing that she
+would never move, and that he might be allowed to die while quietly
+gazing at her.</p>
+
+<p>"Lady," said Pasquale at last, and rather timidly, "I will take good
+care of him. I will get him crutches to-morrow. I will come in the
+daytime and keep the fire burning for him."</p>
+
+<p>"It would be far better to let it go out," observed Nella, with much
+sense.</p>
+
+<p>"But the experiments!" cried Zorzi, suddenly coming back from his dream.
+"I have promised the master to carry them out."</p>
+
+<p>"You see what comes of your glass-working," retorted Nella, pointing to
+his bandaged foot.</p>
+
+<p>"How did it happen?" asked Marietta suddenly. "How did you do it?"</p>
+
+<p>"It was done for him," said Pasquale, "and may the Last Judgment come a
+hundred times over for him who did it!"</p>
+
+<p>His intention was clearer than his words.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mean that it was done on purpose, out of spite?" asked Marietta,
+looking from Pasquale to Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>"It was an accident," said the latter. "I was in the main furnace room
+with your brother. The blow-pipe with the hot glass slipped from a man's
+hand. Your brother saw it&mdash;he will tell you."</p>
+
+<p>"I have been porter here for five-and-twenty years," retorted Pasquale,
+"and there have been several accidents in that time. But I never heard
+of one like that."</p>
+
+<p>"It was nothing else," said Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>His voice was weak. Nella had finished collecting her belongings.
+Marietta saw that she could not stay any longer at present, and she went
+once more to Zorzi's side.</p>
+
+<p>"Let Pasquale take care of you to-day," she said. "I will come and see
+how you are to-morrow morning."</p>
+
+<p>"I thank you," he answered. "I thank you with all my heart. I have no
+words to tell you how much."</p>
+
+<p>"You need none," said she quietly. "I have done nothing. It is Nella who
+has helped you."</p>
+
+<p>"Nella knows that I am very grateful."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course, of course!" answered the woman kindly. "You have made him
+talk too much," she added, speaking to Marietta. "Let us go away. I must
+prepare the barley water. It takes a long time."</p>
+
+<p>"Is he to have nothing but barley water?" asked Pasquale.</p>
+
+<p>"I will send him what he is to have," answered Nella, with an air of
+superiority.</p>
+
+<p>Marietta looked back at Zorzi from the door, and his eyes were following
+her. She bent her head gravely and went out, followed by the others, and
+he was alone again. But it was very different now. The spasms of pain
+came back now and then, but there was rest between them, for there was a
+potent anodyne in the balsam with which Nella had soaked the first
+dressing. Of all possible hurts, the pain from burning is the most acute
+and lasting, and the wise little woman, who sometimes seemed so foolish,
+had done all that science could have done for Zorzi, even at a much
+later day. He could think connectedly now, he had been able to talk; had
+it been possible for him to stand, he might even have gone on for a time
+with the preparations for the next experiment. Yet he felt an
+instinctive certainty that he was to be lame for life.</p>
+
+<p>He was not thinking of the experiments just then; he could think of
+nothing but Marietta. Four or five days had passed since he had talked
+with her in the garden, and she was now formally promised to Jacopo
+Contarini. He wondered why she had come with Nella, and he remembered
+her earnest offer of friendship. She meant to show him that she was
+still in earnest, he supposed. It had been perfect happiness to feel her
+cool young hand on his forehead, to press it in his own. No one could
+take that from him, as long as he lived. He remembered it through the
+horrible pain it had soothed, and it was better than the touch of an
+angel, for it was the touch of a loving woman. But he did not know that,
+and be fancied that if she had ever guessed that he loved her, she
+would not have come to him now. She would feel that the mere thought in
+his heart was an offence. And besides, she was to marry Contarini, and
+she was not of the kind that would promise to marry one man and yet
+encourage love in another. It was well, thought Zorzi, that she had
+never suspected the truth.</p>
+
+<p>When Marietta reached her room again she listened patiently to Nella's
+scolding and warning, for she did not hear a word the good woman said to
+her. Nella brushed the dust from the silk mantle and from Marietta's
+white skirt very industriously, lest it should betray the secret to
+Giovanni or any other member of the household. For they had escaped
+being seen, even when they came back.</p>
+
+<p>Nella scolded on in a little sing-song voice, with many rising
+inflections. In her whole life, she said, she had never connived at
+anything more utterly shameless than this! She was humble, indeed, and
+of no account in the world, but if she had run out in the middle of the
+day to visit a young man when she was betrothed to her poor Vito,
+blessed soul, and the Lord remember him, her poor Vito would have gone
+to her father, might the Lord refresh his soul, and would have said,
+"What ways are these? Do you think I will marry a girl who runs about in
+this fashion?" That was what Vito would have said. And he would have
+said, "Give me back the gold things I gave your daughter, and let me go
+and find a wife who does not run about the city." And it would have
+been well said. Did Marietta suppose that an educated person like the
+lord Jacopo Contarini would be less particular about his bride's manners
+than that good soul Vito? Not that Vito had been ignorant. Nella should
+have liked any one to dare to say that she had married an ignorant man!
+And so forth. And so on.</p>
+
+<p>Marietta heard the voice without listening to the words, and the gentle,
+half-complaining, half-reproving tone was rather soothing than
+otherwise. She sat by the half-closed window with her bead work, while
+Nella talked, and brushed, and moved about the room, making imaginary
+small tasks in order to talk the more. But Marietta threaded the red and
+blue beads and fastened them in patterns upon the piece of stuff she was
+ornamenting, and when Nella looked at her every now and then, she seemed
+quite calm and indifferent. There had always been something inscrutable
+about her.</p>
+
+<p>She was wondering why she had submitted to be betrothed to Contarini,
+when she loved Zorzi; and the answer did not come. She could not
+understand why it was that although she loved Zorzi with all her heart
+she had been convinced that she hated him, during four long, miserable
+days. Then, too, it was very strange that she should feel happy, that
+she should know that she was really happy, her heart brimming over with
+sunshine and joy, while Zorzi, whom she loved, was lying on that
+uncomfortable bench in dreadful pain. It was true that when she thought
+of his wound, the pain ran through her own limbs and made her move in
+her seat. But the next moment she was perfectly happy again, and yet was
+displeased with herself for it, as if it were not quite right.</p>
+
+<p>Nella stood still at last, close to her, and spoke to her so directly
+that she could not help hearing.</p>
+
+<p>"My little lady," said the woman, "do not forget that the women are
+coming early to-morrow morning to show you the stuffs which your father
+has chosen for your wedding gown."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I remember."</p>
+
+<p>Marietta laid down her work in the little basket of beads and looked
+away towards the window. Between the shutters she could just see one of
+the scarlet flowers of the sweet geranium, waving in the sunlight. It
+was true. The women were coming in the morning to begin the work. They
+would measure her, and cut out patterns in buckram and fit them on her,
+making her stand a long time. They would spread out silks and satins on
+the bed and on the table, they would hold them up and make long
+draperies with them, and make the light flash in the deep folds, and
+they would tell her how beautiful she would be as a bride, and that her
+skin was whiter than lilies and milk and snow, and her hair finer than
+silk and richer than ropes of spun red gold. While they were saying
+those things she would look very grave and indifferent, and nothing they
+could show her would make her open her eyes wide; but her heart would
+laugh long and sweetly, for she should be infinitely happy, though no
+one would know it. She would give no opinion about the gown, no matter
+how they pressed her with questions.</p>
+
+<p>After that the pieces that were to be embroidered would be very
+carefully weighed, the silk and the satin, and the weights of the pieces
+would be written down. Also, each of the hired women who were to make
+the embroidery would receive a certain amount of silver and gold thread,
+of which the weight would be written down under that of the stuff, and
+the two figures added together would mean just what the finished piece
+of embroidery ought to weigh. For if this were not done, the women would
+of course steal the gold and silver thread, a little every day, and take
+it away in their mouths, because the housekeeper would always search
+them every evening, in spite of the weighing. But they were well paid
+for the work and did not object to being suspected, for it was part of
+their business.</p>
+
+<p>In time, Marietta would go to see the work they were doing, in the great
+cool loft where they would sit all day, where the linen presses stood
+side by side, and the great chests which held the hangings and curtains
+and carpets that were used on great occasions. The housekeeper had her
+little room up there, and could watch the sewing-women at their work and
+scold them if they were idle, noting how much should be taken from their
+pay. The women would sing long songs, answering each other for an hour
+at a time, but no one would hear them below, because the house was so
+big.</p>
+
+<p>By and by the work would be almost finished, and then it would be quite
+done, and the wedding day would be very near. There Marietta's vision
+of the future suddenly came to a climax, as she tried to imagine what
+would happen when she should boldly declare that neither her father, nor
+the Council of Ten, nor the Doge himself, nor even His Holiness Pope
+Paul, who was a Venetian too, could ever make her marry Jacopo
+Contarini. There would be such a convulsion of the family as had never
+taken place since she was born. In her imagination she fancied all
+Murano taking sides for her or against her; even Venice itself would be
+amazed at the temerity of a girl who dared to refuse the husband her
+father had chosen for her. It would be an outrage on all authority, a
+scandal never to be forgotten, an unheard-of rebellion against the
+natural law by which unmarried children were held in bondage as slaves
+to their parents. But Marietta was not frightened by the tremendous
+consequences her fancy deduced from her refusal to marry. She was happy.
+Some day, the man she loved would know that she had faced the world for
+him, rather than be bound to any one else, and he would love her all the
+more dearly for having risked so much. She had never been so happy
+before. Only, now and then, when she thought of Zorzi's hurt, she felt a
+sharp thrill of pain run through her.</p>
+
+<p>All day the tide of joy was high in her heart. Towards evening, she sent
+Nella over to the glass-house to see how Zorzi was doing, and as soon as
+the woman was gone she stood at the open window, behind her flowers, to
+watch her go in, Pasquale would look out, the door would be open for a
+moment, she would be a little nearer.</p>
+
+<p>Even in that small anticipation she was not disappointed. It was a new
+joy to be able to look from her window into the dark entry that led to
+the place where Zorzi was. To-morrow, or the next day, he would perhaps
+come to the door, helped by Pasquale, but to-morrow morning she would go
+and see him, come what might. She was not afraid of her brother
+Giovanni, and it might be long before her father came back. Till then,
+at all events, she would do what she thought right, no matter how Nella
+might be scandalised.</p>
+
+<p>Nella came back, and said that Zorzi was better, that he had slept all
+the afternoon and now had very little pain, and he was not in any
+anxiety about the furnace, for Pasquale had kept the fire burning
+properly all day. Zorzi had begged Nella to deliver a message of thanks.</p>
+
+<p>"Try and remember just what he told you," said Marietta.</p>
+
+<p>"There was nothing especial," answered Nella with exasperating
+indifference. "He said that I was to thank you very much. Something like
+that&mdash;nothing else."</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure that those were not his words. Why did you forget them?"</p>
+
+<p>"If it had been an account of money spent, I should remember it
+exactly," answered Nella. "A pennyworth of thread, beeswax a farthing,
+so much for needles; I should forget nothing. But when a man says 'I
+thank you,' what is there to remember? But you are never satisfied!
+Nella may work her hands to the bone for you, Nella may run errands for
+you till she is lame, you are never pleased with what Nella does! It is
+always the same."</p>
+
+<p>She tossed her brown head to show that she was offended. But Marietta
+laughed softly and patted the little woman's cheek affectionately.</p>
+
+<p>"You are a dear little old angel," she said.</p>
+
+<p>Nella was pacified.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2>
+
+
+<p>The porter kept his word, and took good care of Zorzi. When the night
+boys had come, he carried him into the inner room and put him to bed
+like a child. Zorzi asked him to tell the boys to wake him at the
+watches, as they had done on the previous night, and Pasquale humoured
+him, but when he went away he wisely forgot to give the message, and the
+lads, who knew that he had been hurt, supposed that he was not to be
+disturbed. It was broad daylight when he awoke and saw Pasquale standing
+beside him.</p>
+
+<p>"Are the boys gone already?" he asked, almost as he opened his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"No, they are all asleep in a corner," answered the porter.</p>
+
+<p>"Asleep!" cried Zorzi, in sudden anxiety. "Wake them, Pasquale, and see
+whether the sand-glass has been turned and is running, and whether the
+fire is burning. The young good-for-nothings!"</p>
+
+<p>"I will wake them," answered Pasquale. "I supposed that they were
+allowed to sleep after daylight."</p>
+
+<p>A moment later Zorzi heard him apostrophising the three lads with his
+usual vigour of language. Judging from the sounds that accompanied the
+words he was encouraging their movements by other means also. Presently
+one of the three set up a howl.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you sons of snails and codfish, I will teach you!" growled
+Pasquale; and he proceeded to teach them, till they were all three
+howling at once.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi knew that they deserved a beating, but he was naturally
+tender-hearted.</p>
+
+<p>"Pasquale!" he called out. "Let them alone! Let them make up the fire!"</p>
+
+<p>Pasquale came back, and the yells subsided.</p>
+
+<p>"I have knocked their empty heads together," he observed. "They will not
+sleep for a week. Yes, the sand-glass has run out, but the fire is not
+very low. I will bring you water, and when you are dressed I will carry
+you out into the laboratory."</p>
+
+<p>The boys did not dare to go away till they had made up the fire. Then
+they took themselves off, and as Pasquale let them out he treated them
+to a final expression of his opinion. The tallest of the three was
+bleeding from his nose, which had been brought into violent conjunction
+with the skull of one of his companions. When the door was shut, and
+they had gone a few steps along the footway, he stopped the others.</p>
+
+<p>"We are glass-blowers' sons," he said, "and we have been beaten by that
+swine of a porter. Let us be revenged on him. Even Zorzi would not have
+dared to touch us, because he is a foreigner."</p>
+
+<p>"We can do nothing," answered the smallest boy disconsolately. "If I
+tell my father that we went to sleep, he will say that the porter
+served us right, and I shall get another beating."</p>
+
+<p>"You are cowards," said the first speaker. "But I am wounded," he
+continued proudly, pointing to his nose. "I will go to the master and
+ask redress. I will sit down before the door and wait for him."</p>
+
+<p>"Do what you please," returned the others. "We will go home."</p>
+
+<p>"You have no spirit of honour in you," said the tall boy contemptuously.</p>
+
+<p>He turned his back on them in disdain, crossed the bridge and sat down
+under the covered way in front of Beroviero's house. He smeared the
+blood over his face till he really looked as if he might be badly hurt,
+and he kept up a low, tremulous moaning. His nose really hurt him, and
+as he was extremely sorry for himself some real tears came into his eyes
+now and then. He waited a long time. The front door was opened and two
+men came out with brooms and began to sweep. When they saw him they were
+for making him go away, but he cried out that he was waiting for the
+Signor Giovanni, to show him how a free glass-blower's son had been
+treated by a dog of a foreigner and a swine of a porter over there in
+the glass-house. Then the servants let him stay, for they feared the
+porter and hated Zorzi for being a Dalmatian.</p>
+
+<p>At last Giovanni came out, and the boy at once uttered a particularly
+effective moan. Giovanni stopped and looked at him, and he gulped and
+sobbed vigorously.</p>
+
+<p>"Get up and go away at once!" said Giovanni, much disgusted by the sight
+of the blood.</p>
+
+<p>"I will not go till you hear me, sir," answered the boy dramatically. "I
+am a free glass-blower's son and I have been beaten like this by the
+porter of the glass-house! This is the way we are treated, though we
+work to learn the art as our fathers worked before us."</p>
+
+<p>"You probably went to sleep, you little wretch," observed Giovanni. "Get
+out of my way, and go home!"</p>
+
+<p>"Justice, sir! Justice!" moaned the boy, dropping himself on his knees.</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense! Go away!" Giovanni pushed him aside, and began to walk on.</p>
+
+<p>The boy sprang up and followed him, and running beside him as Giovanni
+tried to get away, touched the skirt of his coat respectfully, and then
+kissed the back of his own hand.</p>
+
+<p>"If you will listen to me, sir," he said in a low voice, "I will tell
+you something you wish to know."</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni stopped short and looked at him with curiosity.</p>
+
+<p>"I will tell you of something the master did on the Sunday night before
+he went on his journey," continued the lad. "I am one of the night boys
+in the laboratory, and I saw with my eyes while the others were asleep,
+for we had been told to wait till we were called."</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni looked about, to see whether any one was within hearing. They
+were still in the covered footway above which the first story of the
+house was built, but were near the end, and the shutters of the lower
+windows were closed.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me what you saw," said Giovanni, "but do not speak loud."</p>
+
+<p>At this moment the other two boys came running up with noisy
+lamentations. With the wisdom of their kind they had patiently watched
+to see whether their companion would get a hearing of the master, and
+judging that he had been successful at last, they came to enjoy the
+fruit of his efforts.</p>
+
+<p>"We also have been beaten!" they wailed, but they bore no outward and
+visible signs of ill-treatment on them.</p>
+
+<p>The elder boy turned upon them with righteous fury, and to their
+unspeakable surprise began to drive them away with kicks and blows. They
+could not stand against him, and after a brief resistance, they turned
+and ran at full speed. The victor came back to Giovanni's side.</p>
+
+<p>"They are cowardly fellows," he said, with disdain. "They are ignorant
+boys. What do you expect? But they will not come back."</p>
+
+<p>"Go on with your story," said Giovanni impatiently, "but speak low."</p>
+
+<p>"It was on Sunday night, sir. The master came to talk with Zorzi in the
+laboratory. I was in the garden, at the entrance of the other passage.
+When the door opened there was not much light, and the master was
+wrapped in his cloak, and he turned a little, and went in sideways, so
+I knew that he had something under his arm, for the door is narrow."</p>
+
+<p>"He was probably bringing over some valuable materials," said Giovanni.</p>
+
+<p>"I believe he was bringing the great book," said the boy confidently,
+but almost in a whisper.</p>
+
+<p>"What great book?"</p>
+
+<p>The lad looked at Giovanni with an expression of cunning on his face, as
+much as to say that he was not to be deceived by such a transparent
+pretence of ignorance.</p>
+
+<p>"He was afraid to leave it in his house," he said, "lest you should find
+it and learn how to make the gold as he does. So he took it over to the
+laboratory at night."</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni began to understand, though it was the first time he had heard
+that the boys, like the common people, suspected Angelo Beroviero of
+being an alchemist. It was clear that the boy meant the book that
+contained the priceless secrets for glass-making which Giovanni and his
+brother had so long coveted. His interest increased.</p>
+
+<p>"After all," he said, "you saw nothing distinctly. My father went in and
+shut the door, I suppose."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," answered the boy. "But after a long time the door opened again."</p>
+
+<p>He stopped, resolved to be questioned, in order that his information
+should seem more valuable. The instinct of small boys is often as
+diabolically keen as that of a grown woman.</p>
+
+<p>"Go on!" said Giovanni, more and more interested. "The door opened
+again, you say? Then my father came out&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir. Zorzi came out into the light that fell from the door. The
+master was inside."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what did Zorzi do? Be quick!"</p>
+
+<p>"He brought out a shovel full of earth, sir, and he carefully scattered
+it about over the flower-bed, and then he went back, and presently he
+came out with the shovel again, and more earth; and so three times. They
+had buried the great book somewhere in the laboratory."</p>
+
+<p>"But the laboratory is paved," objected Giovanni, to gain time, for he
+was thinking.</p>
+
+<p>"There is earth under the stones, sir. I remember seeing it last year
+when the masons put down several new slabs. The great book is somewhere
+under the floor of the laboratory. I must have stepped over it in
+feeding the fire last night, and that is why the devils that guard it
+inspired the porter to beat me this morning. It was the devils that sent
+us to sleep, for fear that we should find it."</p>
+
+<p>"I daresay," said Giovanni with much gravity, for he thought it better
+that the boy should be kept in awe of an object that possessed such
+immense value. "You should be careful in future, or ill may befall you."</p>
+
+<p>"Is it true, sir, that I have told you something you wished to know?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad to know that the great book is safe," answered Giovanni
+ambiguously.</p>
+
+<p>"Zorzi knows where it is," suggested, the boy in a tone meant to convey
+the suspicion that Zorzi might use his knowledge.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;yes," repeated Giovanni thoughtfully, "and he is ill. He ought to
+be brought over to the house until he is better."</p>
+
+<p>"Then the furnace could be allowed to get out, sir, could it not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. The weather is growing warm, as it is. Yes&mdash;the furnace may be put
+out now." Giovanni hardly knew that he was speaking aloud. "Zorzi will
+get well much sooner if he is in a good room in the house. I will see to
+it."</p>
+
+<p>The boy stood still beside him, waiting patiently for some reward.</p>
+
+<p>"Are we to come as usual to-night, sir, or will there be no fire?" he
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Go and ask at the usual time. I have not decided yet. There&mdash;you are a
+good boy. If you hold your tongue there will be more."</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni offered the lad a piece of money, but he would not take it.</p>
+
+<p>"We are glass-blowers' sons, sir, we are not poor people," he said with
+theatrical pride, for he would have taken the coin without remark if he
+had not felt that he possessed a secret of great value, which might
+place Giovanni in his power before long.</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni was surprised.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you want, then?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I am old enough to be an apprentice, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well," answered Giovanni. "You shall be an apprentice. But hold
+your tongue about what you saw. You told me everything, did you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir. And I thank you for your kindness, sir. If I can help you,
+sir&mdash;" he stopped.</p>
+
+<p>"Help me!" exclaimed Giovanni. "I do not work at the furnaces! Wash your
+face and come by and by to my glass-house, and you shall have an
+apprentice's place."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall serve you well, sir. You shall see that I am grateful,"
+answered the boy.</p>
+
+<p>He touched Giovanni's sleeve and kissed his own hand, and ran back to
+the steps before the front door. There he knelt down, leaning over the
+water, and washed his face in the canal, well pleased with the price he
+had got for his bruising.</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni did not look at him, but turned to go on, past the corner of
+the house, in deep thought. From the narrow line into which the back
+door opened, Marietta and Nella emerged at the same moment. Nella had
+made sure that Giovanni had gone out, but she could not foresee that he
+would stop a long time to talk with the boy in the covered footway. She
+ran against him, as he passed the corner, for she was walking on
+Marietta's left side. The young girl's face was covered, but she knew
+that Giovanni must recognise her instantly, by her cloak, and because
+Nella was with her.</p>
+
+<p>"Where are you going?" he asked sharply.</p>
+
+<p>"To church, sir, to church," answered Nella in great perturbation. "The
+young lady is going to confession."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, very good, very good!" exclaimed Giovanni, who was very attentive
+to religious forms. "By all means go to confession, my sister. You
+cannot be too conscientious in the performance of your duties."</p>
+
+<p>But Marietta laughed a little under her veil.</p>
+
+<p>"I had not the least intention of going to confession this morning," she
+said. "Nella said so because you frightened her."</p>
+
+<p>"What? What is this?" Giovanni looked from one to the other. "Then where
+are you going?"</p>
+
+<p>"To the glass-house," answered Marietta with perfect coolness.</p>
+
+<p>"You are not going to the laboratory? Zorzi is living there alone. You
+cannot go there."</p>
+
+<p>"I am not afraid of Zorzi. In the first place, I wish to know how he is.
+Secondly, this is the hour for making the tests, and as he cannot stand
+he cannot try the glass alone."</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni was amazed at her assurance, and immediately assumed a grave
+and authoritative manner befitting the eldest brother who represented
+the head of the house.</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot allow you to go," he said. "It is most unbecoming. Our father
+would be shocked. Go back at once, and never think of going to the
+laboratory while Zorzi is there. Do you hear?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Come, Nella," she added, taking her serving-woman by the arm.</p>
+
+<p>Before Giovanni realised what she was going to do, she was walking
+quickly across the wooden bridge towards the glass-house, holding
+Nella's sleeve, to keep her from lagging, and Nella trotted beside her
+mistress like a frightened lamb, led by a string. Giovanni did not
+attempt to follow at first, for he was utterly nonplussed by his
+sister's behaviour. He rarely knew what to do when any one openly defied
+him. He stood still, staring after the two, and saw Marietta tap upon
+the door of the glass-house. It opened almost immediately and they
+disappeared within.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as they were out of sight, his anger broke out, and he made a
+few quick steps on the bridge. Then he stopped, for he was afraid to
+make a scandal. That at least was what he said to himself, but the fact
+was that he was afraid to face his sister, who was infinitely braver and
+cooler than he. Besides, he reflected that he could not now prevent her
+from going to the laboratory, since she was already there, and that it
+would be very undignified to make a scene before Zorzi, who was only a
+servant after all. This last consideration consoled him greatly. In the
+eyes of the law, and therefore in Giovanni's, Zorzi was a hired servant.
+Now, socially speaking, a servant was not a man; and since Zorzi was not
+a man, and Marietta was therefore gone with one servant to a place,
+belonging to her father, where there was another servant, to go thither
+and forcibly bring her back would either be absurd, or else it would
+mean that Zorzi had acquired a new social rank, which was absurd also.
+There is no such consolation to a born coward as a logical reason for
+not doing what he is afraid to do.</p>
+
+<p>But Giovanni promised himself that he would make his sister pay dearly
+for having defied him, and as he had also made up his mind to have Zorzi
+removed to the house, on pretence of curing his hurt, but in reality in
+order to search for the precious manuscripts, it would be impossible for
+Marietta to commit the same piece of folly a second time. But she should
+pay for the affront she had put upon him.</p>
+
+<p>He accordingly came back to the footway and walked along toward his own
+glass-house; and the boy, who had finished washing his face, smoothed
+his hair with his wet fingers and followed him, having seen and
+understood all that had happened.</p>
+
+<p>Marietta sent Pasquale on, to tell Zorzi that she was coming, and when
+she reached the laboratory he was sitting in the master's big chair,
+with his foot on a stool before him. His face was pale and drawn from
+the suffering of the past twenty-four hours, and from time to time he
+was still in great pain. As Marietta entered, he looked up with a
+grateful smile.</p>
+
+<p>"You seem glad to see us after all," she said. "Yet you protested that I
+should not come to-day!"</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot help it," he answered.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, but if you had been with us just now!" Nella began, still
+frightened.</p>
+
+<p>But Marietta would not let her go on.</p>
+
+<p>"Hold your tongue, Nella," she said, with a little laugh. "You should
+know better than to trouble a sick man's fancy with such stories."</p>
+
+<p>Nella understood that Zorzi was not to know, and she began examining
+the foot, to make sure that the bandages had not been displaced during
+the night.</p>
+
+<p>"To-morrow I will change them," she said. "It is not like a scald. The
+glass has burned you like red-hot iron, and the wound will heal
+quickly."</p>
+
+<p>"If you will tell me which crucible to try," said Marietta, "I will make
+the tests for you. Then we can move the table to your side and you can
+prepare the new ingredients according to the writing."</p>
+
+<p>Pasquale had left them, seeing that he was not wanted.</p>
+
+<p>"I fear it is of little use," answered Zorzi, despondently. "Of course,
+the master is very wise, but it seems to me that he has added so much,
+from time to time, to the original mixture, and so much has been taken
+away, as to make it all very uncertain."</p>
+
+<p>"I daresay," assented Marietta. "For some time I have thought so. But we
+must carry out his wishes to the letter, else he will always believe
+that the experiments might have succeeded if he had stayed here."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," said Zorzi. "We should make tests of all three crucibles
+to-day, if it is only to make more room for the things that are to be
+put in."</p>
+
+<p>"Where is the copper ladle?" asked Marietta. "I do not see it in its
+place."</p>
+
+<p>"I have none&mdash;I had forgotten. Your brother came here yesterday morning,
+and wanted to try the glass himself in spite of me. I knocked the ladle
+out of his hand and it fell through into the crucible."</p>
+
+<p>"That was like you," said Marietta. "I am glad you did it."</p>
+
+<p>"Heaven knows what has happened to the thing," Zorzi answered. "It has
+been there since yesterday morning. For all I know, it may have melted
+by this time. It may affect the glass, too."</p>
+
+<p>"Where can I get another?" asked Marietta, anxious to begin.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi made an instinctive motion to rise. It hurt him badly and he bit
+his lip.</p>
+
+<p>"I forgot," he said. "Pasquale can get another ladle from the main
+glass-house."</p>
+
+<p>"Go and call Pasquale, Nella," said Marietta at once. "Ask him to get a
+copper ladle."</p>
+
+<p>Nella went out into the garden, leaving the two together. Marietta was
+standing between the chair and the furnace, two or three steps from
+Zorzi. It was very hot in the big room, for the window was still shut.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me how you really feel," Marietta said, almost at once.</p>
+
+<p>Every woman who loves a man and is anxious about him is sure that if she
+can be alone with him for a moment, he will tell her the truth about his
+condition. The experience of thousands of years has not taught women
+that if there is one person in the world from whom a man will try to
+conceal his ills and aches, it is the woman he loves, because he would
+rather suffer everything than give her pain.</p>
+
+<p>"I feel perfectly well," said Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed you are not!" answered Marietta, energetically. "If you were
+perfectly well you would be on your feet, doing your work yourself. Why
+will you not tell me?"</p>
+
+<p>"I mean, I have no pain," said Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>"You had great pain just now, when you tried to move," retorted
+Marietta. "You know it. Why do you try to deceive me? Do you think I
+cannot see it in your face?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is nothing. It comes now and then, and goes away again almost at
+once."</p>
+
+<p>Marietta had come close to him while she was speaking. One hand hung by
+her side within his reach. He longed to take it, with such a longing as
+he had never felt for anything in his life; he resisted with all the
+strength he had left. But he remembered that he had held her hand in his
+yesterday, and the memory was a force in itself, outside of him, drawing
+him in spite of himself, lifting his arm when he commanded it to lie
+still. His eyes could not take themselves from the beautiful white
+fingers, so delicately curved as they hung down, so softly shaded to
+pale rose colour at their tapering tips. She stood quite still, looking
+down at his bent head.</p>
+
+<p>"You would not refuse my friendship, now," she said, in a low voice, so
+low that when she had spoken she doubted whether he could have
+understood.</p>
+
+<p>He took her hand then, for he had no resistance left, and she let him
+take it, and did not blush. He held it in both his own and silently drew
+it to him, till he was pressing it to his heart as he had never hoped to
+do.</p>
+
+<p>"You are too good to me," he said, scarcely knowing that he pronounced
+the words.</p>
+
+<p>Nella passed the window, coming back from her errand. Instantly Marietta
+drew her hand away, and when the serving-woman entered she was speaking
+to Zorzi in the most natural tone in the world.</p>
+
+<p>"Is the testing plate quite clean?" she asked, and she was already
+beside it.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi looked at her with amazement. She had almost been seen with her
+hand in his, a catastrophe which he supposed would have entailed the
+most serious consequences; yet there she was, perfectly unconcerned and
+not even faintly blushing, and she had at once pretended that they had
+been talking about the glass.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;I believe it is clean," he answered, almost hesitating. "I cleaned
+it yesterday morning."</p>
+
+<p>Nella had brought the copper ladle. There were always several in the
+glass-works for making tests. Marietta took it and went to the furnace,
+while Nella watched her, in great fear lest she should burn herself. But
+the young girl was in no danger, for she had spent half her life in the
+laboratory and the garden, watching her father. She wrapped the wet
+cloth round her hand and held the ladle by the end.</p>
+
+<p>"We will begin with the one on the right," she said, thrusting the
+instrument through the aperture.</p>
+
+<p>Bringing it out with some glass in it, she supported it with both hands
+as she went quickly to the iron table, and she instantly poured out the
+stuff and began to watch it.</p>
+
+<p>"It is just what you had the other day," she said, as the glass rapidly
+cooled.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi was seated high enough to look over the table.</p>
+
+<p>"Another failure," he said. "It is always the same. We have scarcely had
+any variation in the tint in the last week."</p>
+
+<p>"That is not your fault," answered Marietta. "We will try the next."</p>
+
+<p>As if she had been at the work all her life, she chilled the ladle and
+chipped off the small adhering bits of glass from it, and slipped the
+last test from the table, carrying it to the refuse jar with tongs. Once
+more she wrapped the damp cloth round her hand and went to the furnace.
+The middle crucible was to be tried next. Nella, looking on with nervous
+anxiety, was in a profuse perspiration.</p>
+
+<p>"I believe that is the one into which the ladle fell," said Zorzi. "Yes,
+I am quite sure of it."</p>
+
+<p>Marietta took the specimen and poured it out, set down the ladle on the
+brick work, and watched the cooling glass, expecting to see what she had
+often seen before. But her face changed, in a look of wonder and
+delight.</p>
+
+<p>"Zorzi!" she exclaimed. "Look! Look! See what a colour!"</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot see well," he answered, straining his neck. "Wait a minute!"
+he cried, as Marietta took the tongs. "I see now! We have got it! I
+believe we have got it! Oh, if I could only walk!"</p>
+
+<p>"Patience&mdash;you shall see it. It is almost cool. It is quite stiff now."</p>
+
+<p>She took the little flat cake up with the tongs, very carefully, and
+held it before his eyes. The light fell through it from the window, and
+her head was close to his, as they both looked at it together.</p>
+
+<p>"I never dreamed of such a colour," said Zorzi, his face flushing with
+excitement.</p>
+
+<p>"There never was such a colour before," answered Marietta. "It is like
+the juice of a ripe pomegranate that has just been cut, only there is
+more light in it."</p>
+
+<p>"It is like a great ruby&mdash;the rubies that the jewellers call 'pigeon's
+blood.'"</p>
+
+<p>"My father always said it should be blood-red," said Marietta. "But I
+thought he meant something different, something more scarlet."</p>
+
+<p>"I thought so, too. What they call pigeon's blood is not the colour of
+blood at all. It is more like pomegranates, as you said at first. But
+this is a marvellous thing. The master will be pleased."</p>
+
+<p>Nella came and looked too, convinced that the glass had in some way
+turned out more beautiful by the magic of her mistress's touch.</p>
+
+<p>"It is a miracle!" cried the woman of the people. "Some saint must have
+made this."</p>
+
+<p>The glass glowed like a gem and seemed to give out light of its own. As
+Zorzi and Marietta looked, its rich glow spread over their faces. It was
+that rare glass which, from old cathedral windows, casts such a deep
+stain upon the pavement that one would believe the marble itself must be
+dyed with unchanging color.</p>
+
+<p>"We have found it together," said Marietta.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi looked from the glass to her face, close by his, and their eyes
+met for a moment in the strange glow and it was as if they knew each
+other in another world.</p>
+
+<p>"Do not let the red light fall on your faces," said Nella, crossing
+herself. "It is too much like blood&mdash;good health to you," she added
+quickly for fear of evil.</p>
+
+<p>Marietta lowered her hand and turned the piece of glass sideways, to see
+how it would look.</p>
+
+<p>"What shall we do with it?" she asked. "It must not be left any longer
+in the crucible."</p>
+
+<p>"No. It ought to be taken out at once. Such a colour must be kept for
+church windows. If I were able to stand, I would make most of it into
+cylinders and cut them while hot. There are men who can do it, in the
+glass-house. But the master does not want them here."</p>
+
+<p>"We had better let the fires go out," said Marietta. "It will cool in
+the crucible as it is."</p>
+
+<p>"I would give anything to have that crucible empty, or an empty one in
+the place," answered Zorzi. "This is a great discovery, but it is not
+exactly what the master expected. I have an idea of my own, which I
+should like to try."</p>
+
+<p>"Then we must empty the crucible. There is no other way. The glass will
+keep its colour, whatever shape we give it. Is there much of it?"</p>
+
+<p>"There may be twenty or thirty pounds' weight," answered Zorzi. "No one
+can tell."</p>
+
+<p>Nell listened in mute surprise. She had never seen Marietta with old
+Beroviero, and she was amazed to hear her young mistress talking about
+the processes of glass-making, about crucibles and cylinders and
+ingredients as familiarly as of domestic things. She suddenly began to
+imagine that old Beroviero, who was probably a magician and an
+alchemist, had taught his daughter the same dangerous knowledge, and she
+felt a sort of awe before the two young people who knew such a vast deal
+which she herself could never know.</p>
+
+<p>She asked herself what was to become of this wonderful girl, half woman
+and half enchantress, who brought the colour of the saints' blood out of
+the white flames, and understood as much as men did of the art which was
+almost all made up of secrets. What would happen when she was the wife
+of Jacopo Contarini, shut up in a splendid Venetian palace where there
+were no glass furnaces to amuse her? At first she would grow pale,
+thought Nella, but by and by would weave spells in her chamber which
+would bring all Venice to her will, and turn it all to gold and precious
+stones and red glass, and the people to fairies subject to her will, her
+husband, the Council of Ten, even the Doge himself.</p>
+
+<p>Nella roused herself, and passed her hand over her eyes, as if she were
+waking from a dream. And indeed she had been dreaming, for she had
+looked too long into the wonderful depths of the new colour, and it had
+dazed her wits.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2>
+
+
+<p>On that day Marietta felt once more the full belief that Zorzi loved
+her; but the certainty did not fill her with happiness as on that first
+afternoon when she had seen him stoop to pick up the rose she had
+dropped. The time that had seemed so very distant had come indeed;
+instead of years, a week had scarcely passed, and it was not by letting
+a flower fall in his path that she had told him her love, as she had
+meant to do. She had done much more. She had let him take her hand and
+press it to his heart, and she would have left it there if Nella had not
+passed the window; she had wished him to take it, she had let it hang by
+her side in the hope that he would be bold enough to do so, and she had
+thrilled with delight at his touch; she had drawn back her hand when the
+woman came, and she had put on a look of innocent indifference that
+would have deceived one of the Council's own spies. Could any language
+have been more plain?</p>
+
+<p>It was very strange, she thought, that she should all at once have gone
+so far, that she should have felt such undreamt joy at the moment and
+then, when it was hers, a part of her life which nothing could ever undo
+nor take from her, it was stranger still that the remembrance of this
+wonderful joy should make her suddenly sad and thoughtful, that she
+should lie awake at night, wishing that it had never been, and
+tormenting herself with the idea that she had done an almost
+irretrievable wrong. At the very moment when the coming day was breaking
+upon her heart's twilight, a wall of darkness arose between her and the
+future.</p>
+
+<p>Much that is very good and true in the world is built upon the fanciful
+fears of evil that warn girls' hearts of harm. There are dangers that
+cannot be exaggerated, because the value of what they threaten cannot be
+reckoned too great, so long as human goodness rests on the dangerous
+quicksands of human nature.</p>
+
+<p>Marietta had not realised what it meant to be betrothed to Jacopo
+Contarini, until she had let her hand linger in Zorzi's. But after that,
+one hour had not passed before she felt that she was living between two
+alternatives that seemed almost equally terrible, and of which she must
+choose the one or the other within two months. She must either marry
+Contarini and never see Zorzi again, or she must refuse to be married
+and face the tremendous consequences of her unheard-of wilfulness, her
+father's anger, the just resentment of all the Contarini family, the
+humiliation which her brothers would heap upon her, because, in the code
+of those days, she would have brought shame on them and theirs. In those
+times such results were very real and inevitable when a girl's formal
+promise of marriage was broken, though she herself might never have been
+consulted.</p>
+
+<p>It was no wonder that Marietta was sleepless at night, and spent long
+hours of the day sitting listless by her window without so much as
+threading a score of beads from the little basket that stood beside her.
+Nella came and went often, looked at her, and shook her head with a wise
+smile.</p>
+
+<p>"It is the thought of marriage," said the woman of the people to
+herself. "She pines and grows pale now, because she is thinking that she
+must leave her father's house so soon, and she is afraid to go among
+strangers. But she will be happy by and by, like the swallows in
+spring."</p>
+
+<p>Nella remembered how frightened she herself had been when she was
+betrothed to her departed Vito, and she was thereby much comforted as to
+Marietta's condition. But she said nothing, after Marietta had coldly
+repelled her first attempt to talk of the marriage, though she forgave
+her mistress's frigid order to be silent, telling herself that no
+right-minded young girl could possibly be natural and sweet tempered
+under the circumstances. She was more than compensated for what might
+have seemed harshness, by something that looked very much like a
+concession. Marietta had not gone back to the laboratory since the
+discovery of the new glass, and a week had passed since then.</p>
+
+<p>Nella went every other day and did all that was necessary for Zorzi's
+recovery. Each time she came he asked her about Marietta, in a rather
+formal tone, as was becoming when he spoke of his master's daughter,
+but hoping that Nella might have some message to deliver, and he was
+more and more disappointed as he realised that Marietta did not mean to
+send him any. She had gone away on that morning with a sort of
+intimation that she would come back every day, but Nella did not so much
+as hint that she ever meant to come back at all.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi went about on crutches, swinging his helpless foot as he walked,
+for it still hurt him when he put it to the ground. He was pale and
+thin, both from pain and from living shut up almost all day in the close
+atmosphere of the laboratory. For a change, he began to come out into
+the little garden, sometimes walking up and down on his crutches for a
+few minutes, and then sitting down to rest on the bench under the
+plane-tree, where Marietta had so often sat. Pasquale came and talked
+with him sometimes, but Zorzi never went to the porter's lodge.</p>
+
+<p>He felt that if he got as far as that he should inevitably open the door
+and look up at Marietta's window, and he would not do it, for he was
+hurt by her apparent indifference, after having allowed him to hold her
+hand in his. She had not even asked through Nella what had become of the
+beautiful glass. What he pretended to say to himself was that it would
+be very wrong to go and stand outside the glass-house, where the porter
+would certainly see him, and where he might be seen by any one else,
+staring at the window of his master's daughter's room on the other side
+of the canal. But what he really felt was that Marietta had treated him
+capriciously and that if he had a particle of self-respect he must show
+her that he did not care. For if Marietta was very like other carefully
+brought up girls of her age, Zorzi was nothing more than a boy where
+love was concerned, and like many boys who have struggled for existence
+in a more or less corrupt world, he had heard much more of the
+faithlessness and caprices of women in general than of the sensitiveness
+and delicate timidity of innocent young girls.</p>
+
+<p>Marietta was his perfect ideal, the most exquisite, the most beautiful
+and the most lovable creature ever endowed with form and sent into the
+world by the powers of good. He believed all this in his heart, with the
+certainty of absolute knowledge. But he was quite incapable of
+discerning the motives of her conduct towards him, and when he tried to
+understand them, it was not his heart that felt, but his reason that
+argued, having very little knowledge and no experience at all to help
+it; and since his erring reason demonstrated something that offended his
+self-esteem, his heart was hurt and nursed a foolish, small resentment
+against what he truly loved better than life itself. At one time or
+another most very young men in love have found themselves in that
+condition, and have tormented themselves to the verge of fever and
+distraction over imaginary hurts and wrongs. Was there ever a true lyric
+poet who did not at least once in his early days believe himself the
+victim of a heartless woman? And though long afterwards fate may have
+brought him face to face with the tragedy of unhappy love, fierce with
+passion and terrible with violent death, can he ever quite forget the
+fancied sufferings of first youth, the stab of a thoughtless girl's
+first unkind word, the sickening chill he felt under her first cold
+look? And what would first love be, if young men and maidens came to it
+with all the reason and cool self-judgment that long living brings?</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi sought consolation in his art, and as soon as he could stand and
+move about with his crutches he threw his whole pent-up energy into his
+work. The accidental discovery of the red glass had unexpectedly given
+him an empty crucible with which to make an experiment of his own, and
+while the materials were fusing he attempted to obtain the new colour in
+the other two, by dropping pieces of copper into each regardless of the
+master's instructions. To his inexpressible disappointment he completely
+failed in this, and the glass he produced was of the commonest tint.</p>
+
+<p>Then he grew reckless; he removed the two crucibles that had contained
+what had been made according to Beroviero's theories until he had added
+the copper, and he began afresh according to his own belief.</p>
+
+<p>On that very morning Giovanni Beroviero made a second visit to the
+laboratory. He came, he said, to make sure that Zorzi was recovering
+from his hurt, and Zorzi knew from Nella that Giovanni had made
+inquiries about him. He put on an air of sympathy when he saw the
+crutches.</p>
+
+<p>"You will soon throw them aside," he said, "but I am sorry that you
+should have to use them at all."</p>
+
+<p>When he entered, Zorzi was introducing a new mixture, carefully
+powdered, into one of the glass-pots with a small iron shovel. It was
+clear that he must put it all in at once, and he excused himself for
+going on with his work. Giovanni looked at the large quantity of the
+mixed ingredients with an experienced eye, and at once made up his mind
+that the crucible must have been quite empty. Zorzi was therefore
+beginning to make some kind of glass on his own account. It followed
+almost logically, according to Giovanni's view of men, fairly founded on
+a knowledge of himself, that Zorzi was experimenting with the secrets of
+Paolo Godi, which he and old Beroviero had buried together somewhere in
+that very room. Now, ever since the boy had told his story, Giovanni had
+been revolving plans for getting the manuscript into his possession
+during a few days, in order to copy it. A new scheme now suggested
+itself, and it looked so attractive that he at once attempted to carry
+it out.</p>
+
+<p>"It seems a pity," he said, "that a great artist like yourself should
+spend time on fruitless experiments. You might be making very beautiful
+things, which would sell for a high price."</p>
+
+<p>Without desisting from his occupation Zorzi glanced at his visitor,
+whose manner towards him had so entirely changed within a little more
+than a week. With a waif's quick instinct he guessed that Giovanni
+wanted something of him, but the generous instinct of the brave man
+towards the coward made him accept what seemed to be meant for an
+advance after a quarrel. It had never occurred to Zorzi to blame
+Giovanni for the accident in the glass-house, and it would have been
+very unjust to do so.</p>
+
+<p>"I can blow glass tolerably, sir," Zorzi answered. "But none of you
+great furnace owners would dare to employ me, in the face of the law.
+Besides, I am your father's man. I owe everything I know to his
+kindness."</p>
+
+<p>"I do not see what that has to do with it," returned Giovanni; "it does
+not diminish your merit, nor affect the truth of what I was saying. You
+might be doing better things. Any one can weigh out sand and kelp-ashes,
+and shovel them into a crucible!"</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mean that the master might employ me for other work?" asked
+Zorzi, smiling at the disdainful description of what he was doing.</p>
+
+<p>"My father&mdash;or some one else," answered Giovanni. "And besides your
+astonishing skill, I fancy that you possess much valuable knowledge of
+glass-making. You cannot have worked for my father so many years without
+learning some of the things he has taken great pains to hide from his
+own sons."</p>
+
+<p>He spoke the last words in a somewhat bitter tone, quite willing to let
+Zorzi know that he felt himself injured.</p>
+
+<p>"If I have learned anything of that sort by looking on and helping, when
+I have been trusted, it is not mine to use elsewhere," said Zorzi,
+rather proudly.</p>
+
+<p>"That is a fine moral sentiment, my dear young friend, and does you
+credit," replied Giovanni sententiously. "It is impossible not to
+respect a man who carries a fortune in his head and refuses to profit by
+it out of a delicate sense of honour."</p>
+
+<p>"I should have very little respect for a man who betrayed his master's
+secrets," said Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>"You know them then?" inquired the other with unusual blandness.</p>
+
+<p>"I did not say so." Zorzi looked at him coldly.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh no! Even to admit it might not be discreet. But apart from Paolo
+Godi's secrets, which my father has left sealed in my care&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>At this astounding falsehood Zorzi started and looked at Giovanni in
+unfeigned surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"&mdash;but which nothing would induce me to examine," continued Giovanni
+with perfect coolness, "there must be many others of my father's own,
+which you have learned by watching him. I respect you for your
+discretion. Why did you start and look at me when I said that the
+manuscript was in my keeping?"</p>
+
+<p>The question was well put, suddenly and without warning, and Zorzi was
+momentarily embarrassed to find an answer. Giovanni judged that his
+surprise proved the truth of the boy's story, and his embarrassment now
+added certainty to the proof. But Zorzi rarely lost his self-possession
+when he had a secret to keep.</p>
+
+<p>"If I seemed astonished," he said, "it may have been because you had
+just given me the impression that the master did not trust you, and I
+know how careful he is of the manuscript."</p>
+
+<p>"You know more than that, my friend," said Giovanni in a playful tone.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi had now filled the crucible and was replacing the clay rings which
+narrow the aperture of the 'bocca.' He plastered more wet clay upon
+them, and it pleased Giovanni to see how well he knew every detail of
+the art, from the simplest to the most difficult operations.</p>
+
+<p>"Would anything you can think of induce you to leave my father?"
+Giovanni asked, as he had received no answer to his last remark. "Of
+course, I do not mean to speak of mere money, though few people quite
+despise it."</p>
+
+<p>"That may be understood in more than one way," answered Zorzi
+cautiously. "In the first place, do you mean that if I left the master,
+it would be to go to another master, or to set up as a master myself?"</p>
+
+<p>"Let us say that you might go to another glass-house for a fixed time,
+with the promise of then having a furnace of your own. How does that
+strike you?"</p>
+
+<p>"No one can give such a promise and keep it," said Zorzi, scraping the
+wet clay from his hands with a blunt knife.</p>
+
+<p>"But suppose that some one could," insisted Giovanni.</p>
+
+<p>"What is the use of supposing the impossible?" Zorzi shrugged his
+shoulders and went on scraping.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing is impossible in the Republic, except what the Ten are resolved
+to hinder. And that is really impossible."</p>
+
+<p>"The Ten will not make new laws nor repeal old ones for the benefit of
+an unknown Dalmatian."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps not," answered Giovanni. "But on the other hand there is no
+very great penalty if you set up a furnace of your own. If you are
+discovered, your furnace will be put out, and you may have to pay a
+fine. It is no great matter. It is a civil offence, not a criminal one."</p>
+
+<p>"What is it that you wish of me?" asked Zorzi with sudden directness.
+"You are a busy man. You have not come here to pass a morning in idle
+conversation with your father's assistant. You want something of me,
+sir. Speak out plainly. If I can do what you wish, I will do it. If I
+cannot, I will tell you so, frankly."</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni was a little disconcerted by this speech. Excepting where money
+was concerned directly, his intelligence was of the sort that easily
+wastes its energy in futile cunning. He had not meant to reach the point
+for a long time, if he had expected to reach it at all at a first
+attempt.</p>
+
+<p>"I like your straightforwardness," he said evasively. "But I do not
+think your conversation idle. On the contrary, I find it highly
+instructive."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed?" Zorzi laughed. "You do me much honour, sir! What have you
+learned from me this morning?"</p>
+
+<p>"What I wished to know," answered Giovanni with a change of tone, and
+looking at him keenly.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi returned the glance, and the two men faced each other in silence
+for a moment. Zorzi knew what Giovanni meant, as soon as the other had
+spoken. The quick movement of surprise, which was the only indiscretion
+of which Zorzi had been guilty, would have betrayed to any one that he
+knew where the manuscript was, even if it were not in his immediate
+keeping. His instinct was to take the offensive and accuse his visitor
+of having laid a trap for him, but his caution prevailed.</p>
+
+<p>"Whatever you may think that you have learned from me," he said,
+"remember that I have told you nothing."</p>
+
+<p>"Is it here, in this room?" asked Giovanni, not heeding his last speech,
+and hoping to surprise him again.</p>
+
+<p>But he was prepared now, and his face did not change as he replied.</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot answer any questions," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"You and my father hid it together," returned Giovanni. "When you had
+buried it under the stones in this room, you carried the earth out with
+a shovel and scattered it about on a flower-bed. You took out three
+shovelfuls of earth in that way. You see, I know everything. What is the
+use of trying to hide your secret from me?"</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi was now convinced that Giovanni himself had been lurking in the
+garden.</p>
+
+<p>"Sir," he said, with ill-concealed contempt for a man capable of such
+spy's work, "if you have more to say of the same nature, pray say it to
+your father, when he comes back."</p>
+
+<p>"You misunderstand me," returned Giovanni with sudden mildness. "I had
+no intention of offending you. I only meant to warn you that you were
+watched on that night. The person who informed me has no doubt told many
+others also. It would have been very ill for you, if my father had
+returned to find that his secret was public property, and if you had
+been unable to explain that you had not betrayed him. I have given you a
+weapon of defence. You may call upon me to repeat what I have said, when
+you speak with him."</p>
+
+<p>"I am obliged to you, sir," said Zorzi coldly. "I shall not need to
+disturb you."</p>
+
+<p>"You are not wise," returned Giovanni gravely. "If I were
+curious&mdash;fortunately for you I am not!&mdash;I would send for a mason and
+have some of the stones of the pavement turned over before me. A mason
+would soon find the one you moved by trying them all with his hammer."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Zorzi. "If this were a room in your own glass-house, you
+could do that. But it is not."</p>
+
+<p>"I am in charge of all that belongs to my father, during his absence,"
+answered Giovanni.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Zorzi again. "Including Paolo Godi's manuscript, as you told
+me," he added.</p>
+
+<p>"You understand very well why I said that," Giovanni answered, with
+visible annoyance.</p>
+
+<p>"I only know that you said it," was the retort. "And as I cannot suppose
+that you did not know what you were saying, still less that you
+intentionally told an untruth, I really cannot see why you should
+suggest bringing a mason here to search for what must be in your own
+keeping."</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi spoke with a quiet smile, for he felt that he had the best of it.
+Be was surprised when Giovanni broke into a peal of rather affected
+laughter.</p>
+
+<p>"You are hard to catch!" he cried, and laughed again. "You did not
+really suppose that I was in earnest? Why, every one knows that you have
+the manuscript here."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I suppose you spoke ironically," suggested Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course, of course! A mere jest! If I had known that you would take
+it so literally&mdash;" he stopped short.</p>
+
+<p>"Pray excuse me, sir. It is the first time I have ever heard you say
+anything playful."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed! The fact is, my dear Zorzi, I never knew you well enough to
+jest with you, till to-day. Paolo Godi's secrets in my keeping? I wish
+they were! Oh, not that anything would induce me to break the seals. I
+told you that. But I wish they were in my possession. I tell you, I
+would pay down half my fortune to have them, for they would bring me
+back four times as much within the year. Half my fortune! And I am not
+poor, Zorzi."</p>
+
+<p>"Half your fortune?" repeated Zorzi. "That is a large sum, I imagine.
+Pray, sir, how much might half your fortune be, in round numbers? Ten
+thousand silver lires?"</p>
+
+<p>"Silver!" sneered Giovanni contemptuously.</p>
+
+<p>"Gold, then?" suggested Zorzi, drawing him on.</p>
+
+<p>"Gold? Well&mdash;possibly," admitted Giovanni with caution. "But of course I
+was exaggerating. Ten thousand gold pounds would be too much, of course.
+Say, five thousand."</p>
+
+<p>"I thought you were richer than that," said Zorzi coolly.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mean that five thousand would not be enough to pay for the
+manuscript?" asked Giovanni.</p>
+
+<p>"The profits of glass-making are very large when one possesses a
+valuable secret," said Zorzi. "Five thousand&mdash;" He paused, as though in
+doubt, or as if making a mental calculation. Giovanni fell into the
+trap.</p>
+
+<p>"I would give six," he said, lowering his voice to a still more
+confidential tone, and watching his companion eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>"For six thousand gold lires," said Zorzi, smiling, "I am quite sure
+that you could hire a ruffian to break in and cut the throat of the man
+who has charge of the manuscript."</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni's face fell, but he quickly assumed an expression of righteous
+indignation.</p>
+
+<p>"How can you dare to suggest that I would employ such means to rob my
+father?" he cried.</p>
+
+<p>"If it were your intention to rob your father, sir, I cannot see that it
+would matter greatly what means you employed. But I was only jesting, as
+you were when you said that you had the manuscript. I did not expect
+that you would take literally what I said."</p>
+
+<p>"I see, I see," answered Giovanni, accepting the means of escape Zorzi
+offered him. "You were paying me back in my own coin! Well, well! It
+served me right, after all. You have a ready wit."</p>
+
+<p>"I thought that if my conversation were not as instructive as you had
+hoped, I could at least try to make it amusing&mdash;light, gay, witty! I
+trust you will not take it ill."</p>
+
+<p>"Not I!" Giovanni tried to laugh. "But what a wonderful thing is this
+human imagination of ours! Now, as I talked of the secrets, I forgot
+that they were my father's, they seemed almost within my grasp, I was
+ready to count out the gold, to count out six thousand gold lires. Think
+of that!"</p>
+
+<p>"They are worth it," said Zorzi quietly.</p>
+
+<p>"You should know best," answered the other. "There is no such glass as
+my father's for lightness and strength. If he had a dozen workmen like
+you, my brother and I should be ruined in trying to compete with him. I
+watched you very closely the other day, and I watched the others, too.
+By the bye, my friend, was that really an accident, or does the man owe
+you some grudge? I never saw such a thing happen before!"</p>
+
+<p>"It was an accident, of course," replied Zorzi without hesitation.</p>
+
+<p>"If you knew that the man had injured you intentionally, you should have
+justice at once," said Giovanni. "As it is, I have no doubt that my
+father will turn him out without mercy."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope not." Zorzi would say nothing more.</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni rose to go away. He stood still a moment in thought, and then
+smiled suddenly as if recollecting himself.</p>
+
+<p>"The imagination is an extraordinary thing!" he said, going back to the
+past conversation. "At this very moment I was thinking again that I was
+actually paying out the money&mdash;six thousand lires in gold! I must be
+mad!"</p>
+
+<p>"No," said Zorzi. "I think not."</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni turned away, shaking his head and still smiling. To tell the
+truth, though he knew Zorzi's character, he had not believed that any
+one could refuse such a bribe, and he was trying to account for the
+Dalmatian's integrity by reckoning up the expectations the young man
+must have, to set against such a large sum of ready money. He could only
+find one solution to the problem: Zorzi was already in full possession
+of the secrets, and would therefore not sell them at any price, because
+he hoped before long to set up for himself and make his own fortune by
+them. If this were true, and he could not see how it could be otherwise,
+he and his brother would be cheated of their heritage when their father
+died.</p>
+
+<p>It was clear that something must be done to hinder Zorzi from carrying
+out his scheme. After all, Zorzi's own jesting proposal, that a ruffian
+should be employed to cut his throat, was not to be rejected. It was a
+simple plan, direct and conclusive. It might not be possible to find
+the manuscript after all, but the only man who knew its contents would
+be removed, and Beroviero's sons would inherit what should come to them
+by right. Against this project there was the danger that the murderer
+might some day betray the truth, under torture, or might come back again
+and again, and demand more money; but the killing of a man who was not
+even a Venetian, who was an interloper, who could be proved to have
+abused his master's confidence, when he should be no longer alive to
+defend himself, did not strike Giovanni as a very serious matter, and as
+for any one ever forcing him to pay money which he did not wish to pay,
+he knew that to be a feat beyond the ability of an ordinary person.</p>
+
+<p>One other course suggested itself at once. He could forestall Zorzi by
+writing to his father and telling him what he sincerely believed to be
+the truth. He knew the old man well, and was sure that if once persuaded
+that Zorzi had betrayed him by using the manuscript, he would be
+merciless. The difficulty would lie in making Beroviero believe anything
+against his favourite. Yet in Giovanni's estimation the proofs were
+overwhelming. Besides, he had another weapon with which to rouse his
+father's anger against the Dalmatian. Since Marietta had defied him and
+had gone to see Zorzi in the laboratory, he had not found what he
+considered a convenient opportunity of speaking to her on the subject;
+that is to say, he had lacked the moral courage to do so at all. But it
+would need no courage to complain of her conduct to their father, and
+though Beroviero's anger might fall chiefly upon Marietta, a portion of
+it would take effect against Zorzi. It would be one more force acting in
+the direction of his ruin.</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni went away to his own glass-house, meditating all manner of evil
+to his enemy, and as he reckoned up the chances of success, he began to
+wonder how he could have been so weak as to offer Zorzi an enormous
+bribe, instead of proceeding at once to his destruction.</p>
+
+<p>Unconscious of his growing danger, Zorzi fed the fire of the furnace,
+and then sat down at the table before the window, laid his crutches
+beside him, and began to write out the details of his own experiments,
+as the master had done for years. He wrote the rather elaborate
+characters of the fifteenth century in a small but clear hand, very
+unlike old Beroviero's. The window was open, and the light breeze blew
+in, fanning his heated forehead; for the weather was growing hotter and
+hotter, and the order had been given to let the main furnaces cool after
+the following Saturday, as the workmen could not bear the heat many days
+longer. After that, they would set to work in a shed at the back of the
+glass-house to knead the clay for making new crucibles, and the night
+boys would enjoy their annual holiday, which consisted in helping the
+workmen by treading the stiff clay in water for several hours every day.</p>
+
+<p>A man's shadow darkened the window while Zorzi was writing, and he
+looked up. Pasquale was standing outside.</p>
+
+<p>"There is a pestering fellow at the door," he said, "who will not be
+satisfied till he has spoken with you. He says he has a message for you
+from some one in Venice, which he must deliver himself."</p>
+
+<p>"For me?" Zorzi rose in surprise.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
+
+
+<p>Zorzi swung himself along the dark corridor on his crutches after
+Pasquale, who opened the outer door with his usual deliberation. A
+little man stood outside in grey hose and a servant's dark coat,
+gathered in at the waist by a leathern belt. He was clean shaven and his
+hair was cropped close to his head, which was bare, for he held his
+black hat in his hand. Zorzi did not like his face. He waited for Zorzi
+to speak first.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you a message for me?" asked the Dalmatian. "I am Zorzi."</p>
+
+<p>"That is the name, sir," answered the man respectfully. "My master begs
+the honour and pleasure of your company this evening, as usual."</p>
+
+<p>"Where?" asked Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>"My master said that you would know the place, sir, having been there
+before."</p>
+
+<p>"What is your master's name?"</p>
+
+<p>"The Angel," answered the man promptly, keeping his eyes on Zorzi's
+face.</p>
+
+<p>The latter nodded, and the servant at once made an awkward obeisance
+preparatory to going away.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell your master," said Zorzi, "that I have hurt my foot and am walking
+on crutches, so that I cannot come this evening, but that I thank him
+for his invitation, and send greeting to him and to the other guests."</p>
+
+<p>The man repeated some of the words in a tone hardly audible, evidently
+committing the message to memory.</p>
+
+<p>"Signor Zorzi&mdash;hurt his foot&mdash;crutches&mdash;thanks&mdash;greeting," he mumbled.
+"Yes, sir," he added in his ordinary voice, "I will say all that. Your
+servant, sir."</p>
+
+<p>With another awkward bow, he turned away to the right and walked very
+quickly along the footway. He had left his boat at the entrance to the
+canal, not knowing exactly where the glass-house was. Zorzi looked after
+him a moment, then turned himself on his sound foot and set his crutches
+before him to go in. Pasquale was there, and must have heard what had
+passed. He shut the door and followed Zorzi back a little way.</p>
+
+<p>"It is no concern of mine," he said roughly. "You may amuse yourself as
+you please, for you are young, and your host may be the Archangel
+Michael himself, or the holy Saint Mark, and the house to which you are
+bidden may be a paradise full of other angels! But I would as soon sit
+down before the grating and look at the hooded brother, while the
+executioner slipped the noose over my head to strangle me, as to go to
+any place on a bidding delivered by a fellow with such a jail-bird's
+head. It is as round as a bullet and as yellow as cheese. He has eyes
+like a turtle's and teeth like those of a young shark."</p>
+
+<p>"I am quite of your opinion," said Zorzi, halting at the entrance to the
+garden.</p>
+
+<p>"Then why did you not kick him into the canal?" inquired the porter,
+with admirable logic.</p>
+
+<p>"Do I look as if I could kick anything?" asked Zorzi, laughing and
+glancing at his lame foot.</p>
+
+<p>"And where should I have been?" inquired Pasquale indignantly. "Asleep,
+perhaps? If you had said 'kick,' I would have kicked. Perhaps I am a
+statue!"</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi pointed out that it was not usual to answer invitations in that
+way, even when declining them.</p>
+
+<p>"And who knows what sort of invitation it was?" retorted the old porter
+discontentedly. "Since when have you friends in Venice who bid you come
+to their houses at night, like a thief? Honest men, who are friends, say
+'Come and eat with me at noon, for to-day we have this, or this'&mdash;say, a
+roast sucking pig, or tripe with garlic. And perhaps you go; and when
+you have eaten and drunk and it is the cool of the afternoon, you come
+home. That is what Christians do. Who are they that meet at night? They
+are thieves, or conspirators, or dice-players, or all three."</p>
+
+<p>Pasquale happened to have been right in two guesses out of three, and
+Zorzi thought it better to say nothing. There was no fear that the surly
+old man would tell any one of the message; he had proved himself too
+good a friend to Zorzi to do anything which could possibly bring him
+into trouble, and Zorzi was willing to let him think what he pleased,
+rather than run the smallest risk of betraying the society of which he
+had been obliged to become a member. But he was curious to know why
+Contarini kept such a singularly unprepossessing servant, and why, if he
+chose to keep him, he made use of him to deliver invitations. The fellow
+had the look of a born criminal; he was just such a man as Zorzi had
+thought of when he had jestingly proposed to Giovanni to hire a
+murderer. Indeed, the more Zorzi thought of his face, the more he was
+inclined to doubt that the man came from Contarini at all.</p>
+
+<p>But in this he was mistaken. The message was genuine, and moreover, so
+far as Contarini and the society were concerned, the man was perfectly
+trustworthy. Possibly there were reasons why Contarini chose to employ
+him, and also why the servant was so consistently faithful to his
+master. After all, Zorzi reflected, he was certainly ignorant of the
+fact that the noble young idlers who met at the house of the Agnus Dei
+were playing at conspiracy and revolution.</p>
+
+<p>But that night, when Contarini's friends were assembled and had counted
+their members, some one asked what had become of the Murano
+glass-blower, and whether he was not going to attend their meetings in
+future; and Contarini answered that Zorzi had hurt his foot and was on
+crutches, and sent a greeting to the guests. Most of them were glad that
+he was not there, for he was not of their own order, and his presence
+caused a certain restraint in their talk. Besides, he was poor, and did
+not play at dice.</p>
+
+<p>"He works with Angelo Beroviero, does he not?" asked Zuan Venier in a
+tone of weary indifference.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," answered Contarini with a laugh. "He is in the service of my
+future father-in-law."</p>
+
+<p>"To whom may heaven accord a speedy, painless and Christian death!"
+laughed Foscari in his black beard.</p>
+
+<p>"Not till I am one of his heirs, if you please," returned Contarini. "As
+soon after the wedding day as you like, for besides her rich dowry, the
+lady is to have a share of his inheritance."</p>
+
+<p>"Is she very ugly?" asked Loredan. "Poor Jacopo! You have the sympathy
+of the brethren."</p>
+
+<p>"How does he know?" sneered Mocenigo. "He has never seen her. Besides,
+why should he care, since she is rich?"</p>
+
+<p>"You are mistaken, for I have seen her," said Contarini, looking down
+the table. "She is not at all ill-looking, I assure you. The old man was
+so much afraid that I would not agree to the match that he took her to
+church so that I might look at her."</p>
+
+<p>"And you did?" asked Mocenigo. "I should never have had the courage. She
+might have been hideous, and in that case I should have preferred not to
+find it out till I was married."</p>
+
+<p>"I looked at her with some interest," said Contarini, smiling in a
+self-satisfied way. "I am bound to say, with all modesty, that she also
+looked at me," he added, passing his white hand over his thick hair.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," put in Foscari gravely. "Any woman would, I should think."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose so," answered Contarini complacently. "It is not my fault if
+they do."</p>
+
+<p>"Nor your misfortune," added Fosoari, with as much gravity as before.</p>
+
+<p>Zuan Venier had not joined in the banter, which seemed to him to be of
+the most atrocious taste. He had liked Zorzi and had just made up his
+mind to go to Murano the next day and find him out.</p>
+
+<p>On that evening there was not so much as a mention of what was supposed
+to bring them together. Before they had talked a quarter of an hour,
+some one began to throw dice on the table, playing with his right hand
+against his left, and in a few moments the real play had begun.</p>
+
+<p>High up in Arisa's room the Georgian woman and Aristarchi heard all that
+was said, crouching together upon the floor beside the opening the slave
+had discovered. When the voices were no longer heard except at rare
+intervals, in short exclamations of satisfaction or disappointment, and
+only the regular rattling and falling of the dice broke the silence, the
+pair drew back from the praying-stool.</p>
+
+<p>"They will say nothing more to-night," whispered Arisa. "They will play
+for hours."</p>
+
+<p>"They had not said a word that could put their necks in danger,"
+answered Aristarchi discontentedly. "Who is this fellow from the
+glass-house, of whom they were speaking?"</p>
+
+<p>Arisa led him away to a small divan between the open windows. She sat
+down against the cushions at the back, but he stretched his bulk upon
+the floor, resting his head against her knee. She softly rubbed his
+rough hair with the palm of her hand, as she might have caressed a cat,
+or a tame wild animal. It gave her a pleasant sensation that had a
+thrill of danger in it, for she always expected that he would turn and
+set his teeth into her fingers.</p>
+
+<p>She told him the story of the last meeting, and how Zorzi had been made
+one of the society in order that they might not feel obliged to kill him
+for their own safety.</p>
+
+<p>"What fools they are!" exclaimed Aristarchi with a low laugh, and
+turning his head under her hand.</p>
+
+<p>"You would have killed him, of course," said Arisa, "if you had been in
+their place. I suppose you have killed many people," she added
+thoughtfully.</p>
+
+<p>"No," he answered, for though he loved her savagely, he did not trust
+her. "I never killed any one except in fair fight."</p>
+
+<p>Arisa laughed low, for she remembered.</p>
+
+<p>"When I first saw you," she said, "your hands were covered with blood. I
+think the reason why I liked you was that you seemed so much more
+terrible than all the others who looked in at my cabin door."</p>
+
+<p>"I am as mild as milk and almonds," said Aristarchi. "I am as timid as a
+rabbit."</p>
+
+<p>His deep voice was like the purring of a huge cat. Arisa looked down at
+his head. Then her hands suddenly clasped his throat and she tried to
+make her fingers meet round it as if she would have strangled him, but
+it was too big for them. He drew in his chin a little, the iron muscles
+stiffened themselves, the cords stood out, and though she pressed with
+all her might she could not hurt him, even a little; but she loved to
+try.</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure I could strangle Contarini," she said quietly. "He has a
+throat like a woman's."</p>
+
+<p>"What a murderous creature you are!" purred the Greek, against hex knee.
+"You are always talking of killing."</p>
+
+<p>"I should like to see you fighting for your life," she answered, "or for
+me."</p>
+
+<p>"It is the same thing," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"I should like to see it. It would be a splendid sight."</p>
+
+<p>"What if I got the worst of it?" asked Aristarchi, his vast mouth
+grinning at the idea.</p>
+
+<p>"You?" Arisa laughed contemptuously. "The man is not born who could kill
+you. I am sure of it."</p>
+
+<p>"One very nearly succeeded, once upon a time," said Aristarchi.</p>
+
+<p>"One man? I do not believe it!"</p>
+
+<p>"He chanced to be an executioner," answered the Greek calmly, "and I had
+my hands tied behind me."</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me about it."</p>
+
+<p>Arisa bent down eagerly, for she loved to hear of his adventures, though
+he had his own way of narrating them which always made him out innocent
+of any evil intention.</p>
+
+<p>"There is nothing to tell. It was in Naples. A woman betrayed me and
+they bound me in my sleep. In the morning I was condemned to death,
+thrown into a cart and dragged off to be hanged. I thought it was all
+over, for the cords were new, so that I could not break them. I tried
+hard enough! But even if I had broken loose, I could never have fought
+my way through the crowd alone. The noose was around my neck."</p>
+
+<p>He stopped, as if he had told everything.</p>
+
+<p>"Go on!" said Arisa. "How did you escape? What an adventure!"</p>
+
+<p>"One of my men saved me. He had a little learning, and could pass for a
+monk when he could get a cowl. He went out before it was daylight that
+morning, and exchanged clothes with a burly friar whom he met in a quiet
+place."</p>
+
+<p>"But how did the friar agree to that?" asked Arisa in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"He had nothing to say. He was dead," answered Aristarchi.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mean to say that he chanced to find a dead friar lying in the
+road?" asked the Georgian.</p>
+
+<p>"How should I know? I daresay the monk was alive when he met my man, and
+happened to die a few minutes afterwards&mdash;by mere chance. It was very
+fortunate, was it not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes!" Arisa laughed softly. "But what did he do? Why did he take the
+trouble to dress the monk in his clothes?"</p>
+
+<p>"In order to receive his dying confession, of course. I thought you
+would understand! And his dying confession was that he, Michael Pandos,
+a Greek robber, had killed the man for whose murder I was being hanged
+that morning. My man came just in time, for as the friar's head was half
+shaved, as monks' heads are, he had to shave the rest, as they do for
+coolness in the south, and he had only his knife with which to do it.
+But no one found that out, for he had been a barber, as he had been a
+monk and most other things. He looked very well in a cowl, and spoke
+Neapolitan. I did not know him when he came to the foot of the gallows,
+howling out that I was innocent."</p>
+
+<p>"Were you?" asked Arisa.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I was," answered Aristarchi with conviction.</p>
+
+<p>"Who was the man that had been killed?"</p>
+
+<p>"I forget his name," said the Greek. "He was a Neapolitan gentleman of
+great family, I believe. I forget the name. He had red hair."</p>
+
+<p>Arisa laughed and stroked Aristarchi's big head. She thought she had
+made him betray himself.</p>
+
+<p>"You had seen him then?" she said, with a question. "I suppose you
+happened to see him just before he died, as your man saw the monk."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh no!" answered Aristarchi, who was not to be so easily caught. "It
+was part of the dying confession. It was necessary to identify the
+murdered person. How should Michael Parados, the Greek robber, know the
+name of the gentleman he had killed? He gave a minute description of
+him. He said he had red hair."</p>
+
+<p>"You are not a Greek for nothing," laughed Arisa.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you ever hear of Odysseus?" asked Aristarchi.</p>
+
+<p>"No. What should I know of your Greek gods? If you were a good
+Christian, you would not speak of them."</p>
+
+<p>"Odysseus was not a god," answered Aristarchi, with a grin. "He was a
+good Christian. I have often thought that he must have been very like
+me. He was a great traveller and a tolerable sailor."</p>
+
+<p>"A pirate?" inquired Arisa.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh no! He was a man of the most noble and upright character, incapable
+of deception! In fact he was very like me, and had nearly as many
+adventures. If you understood Greek, I would repeat some verses I know
+about him."</p>
+
+<p>"Should you love me more, if I understood Greek?" asked Arisa softly.
+"If I thought so, I would learn it."</p>
+
+<p>Aristarchi laughed roughly, so that she was almost afraid lest he should
+be heard far down in the house.</p>
+
+<p>"Learn Greek? You? To make me like you better? You would be just as
+beautiful if you were altogether dumb! A man does not love a woman for
+what she can say to him, in any language."</p>
+
+<p>He turned up his face, and his rough hands drew her splendid head down
+to him, till he could kiss her. Then there was silence for a few
+minutes.</p>
+
+<p>He shook his great shoulders at last.</p>
+
+<p>"Everything else is a waste of time," he said, as if speaking to
+himself.</p>
+
+<p>Her head lay on the cushions now, and she watched him with half-closed
+eyes in the soft light, and now and then the thin embroideries that
+covered her neck and bosom rose and fell with a long, satisfied sigh. He
+rose to his feet and slowly paced the marble floor, up and down before
+her, as he would have paced the little poop-deck of his vessel.</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad you told me about that glass-blower," he said suddenly. "I
+have met him and talked with him, and I may meet him again. He is old
+Beroviero's chief assistant. I fancy he is in love with the daughter."</p>
+
+<p>"In love with the girl whom Contarini is to marry?" asked Arisa,
+suddenly opening her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I told you what I said to the old man in his private room&mdash;it was
+more like a brick-kiln than a rich man's counting-house! While I was
+inside, the young man was talking to the girl under a tree. I saw them
+through a low window as I sat discussing business with Beroviero."</p>
+
+<p>"You could not hear what they said, I suppose."</p>
+
+<p>"No. But I could see what they looked." Aristarchi laughed at his own
+conceit. "The girl was doing some kind of work. The young man stood
+beside her, resting one hand against the tree. I could not see his face
+all the time, but I saw hers. She is in love with him. They were talking
+earnestly and she said something that had a strong effect upon him, for
+I saw that he stood a long time looking at the trunk of the tree, and
+saying nothing. What can you make of that, except that they are in love
+with each other?"</p>
+
+<p>"That is strange," said Arisa, "for it was he that brought the message
+to Contarini, bidding him go and see her in Saint Mark's. That was how
+he chanced upon them, downstairs, at their last meeting."</p>
+
+<p>"How do you know it was that message, and not some other?"</p>
+
+<p>"Contarini told me."</p>
+
+<p>"But if the boy loves her, as I am sure he does, why should he have
+delivered the message?" asked; the cunning Greek. "It would have been
+very easy for him to have named another hour, and Contarini would never
+have seen her. Besides, he had a fine chance then to send the future
+husband to Paradise! He needed only to name a quiet street, instead of
+the Church, and to appoint the hour at dusk. One, two and three in the
+back, the body to the canal, and the marriage would have been broken
+off."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps he does not wish it broken off," suggested Arisa, taking an
+equally amiable but somewhat different point of view. "He cannot marry
+the girl, of course&mdash;but if she is once married and out of her father's
+house, it will be different."</p>
+
+<p>"That is an idea," assented Aristarchi. "Look at us two. It is very much
+the same position, and Contarini will be indifferent about her, which he
+is not, where you are concerned. Between the glass-blower and me, and
+his wife and you, he will not be a man to be envied. That is another
+reason for helping the marriage as much as we can."</p>
+
+<p>"What if the glass-blower makes her give him money?" asked the Georgian
+woman. "If she loves him she will give him everything she has, and he
+will take all he can get, of course."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course, if she had anything to give," said Aristarchi. "But she will
+only have what you allow Contarini to give her. The young man knows well
+enough that her dowry will all be paid to her husband on the day of the
+marriage. It does not matter, for if he is in love he will not care much
+about the money."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope he will be careful. Any one else may see him with her, as you
+did, and may warn old Contarini that his intended daughter-in-law is in
+love with a boy belonging to the glass-house. The marriage would be
+broken off at once if that happened."</p>
+
+<p>"That is true."</p>
+
+<p>So they talked together, judging Zorzi and Marietta according to their
+views of human nature, which they deduced chiefly from their experience
+of themselves. From time to time Arisa went and listened at the hole in
+the floor, and when she heard the guests beginning to take their leave
+she hid Aristarchi in the embrasure of a disused window that was
+concealed by a tapestry, and she went into the larger room and lay down
+among the cushions by the balcony. When Contarini came, a few minutes
+later, she seemed to have fallen asleep like a child, weary of waiting
+for him.</p>
+
+<p>So far both she and Aristarchi looked upon Zorzi, who did not know of
+their existence, with a friendly eye, but their knowledge of his love
+for Marietta was in reality one more danger in his path. If at any
+future moment he seemed about to endanger the success of their plans,
+the strong Greek would soon find an opportunity of sending him to
+another world, as he had sent many another innocent enemy before. They
+themselves were safe enough for the present, and it was not likely that
+they would commit any indiscretion that might endanger their future
+flight. They had long ago determined what to do if Contarini should
+accidentally find Aristarchi in the house. Long before his body was
+found, they would both be on the high seas; few persons knew of Arisa's
+existence, no one connected the Greek merchant captain in any way with
+Contarini, and no one guessed the sailing qualities of the unobtrusive
+vessel that lay in the Giudecca waiting for a cargo, but ballasted to do
+her best, and well stocked with provisions and water. The crew knew
+nothing, when other sailors asked when they were to sail; the men could
+only say that their captain was the owner of the vessel and was very
+hard to please in the matter of a cargo.</p>
+
+<p>In one way or another the two were sure of gaining their end, as soon as
+they should have amassed a sufficient fortune to live in luxury
+somewhere in the far south.</p>
+
+<p>A change in the situation was brought about by the appearance of Zuan
+Venier at the glass-house on the following morning. Indolent, tired of
+his existence, sick of what amused and interested his companions, but
+generous, true and kind-hearted, he had been sorry to hear that Zorzi
+had suffered by an accident, and he felt impelled to go and see whether
+the young fellow needed help. Venier did not remember that he had ever
+resisted an impulse in his life, though he took the greatest pains to
+hide the fact that he ever felt any. He perhaps did not realise that
+although he had done many foolish things, and some that a confessor
+would not have approved, he had never wished to do anything that was
+mean, or unkind, or that might give him an unfair advantage over others.</p>
+
+<p>He fancied Zorzi alone, uncared for, perhaps obliged to work in spite of
+his lameness, and it occurred to him that he might help him in some way,
+though it was by no means clear what direction his help should take. He
+did not know that Beroviero was absent, and he intended to call for the
+old glass-maker. It would be easy to say that he was an old friend of
+Jacopo Contarini and wished to make the acquaintance of Marietta's
+father before the wedding. He would probably have an opportunity of
+speaking to Zorzi without showing that he already knew him, and he
+trusted to Zorzi's discretion to conceal the fact, for he was a good
+judge of men.</p>
+
+<p>It turned out to be much easier to carry out his plan than he had
+expected.</p>
+
+<p>"My name is Zuan Venier," he said, in answer to Pasquale's gruff
+inquiry.</p>
+
+<p>Pasquale eyed him a moment through the bars, and immediately understood
+that he was not a person to be kicked into the canal or received with
+other similar amenities. The great name alone would have awed the old
+porter to something like civility, but he had seen the visitor's face,
+and being quite as good a judge of humanity as Venier himself, he opened
+the door at once.</p>
+
+<p>Venier explained that he wished to pay his respects to Messer Angelo
+Beroviero, being an old friend of Messer Jacopo Contarini. Learning that
+the master was absent on a journey, he asked whether there were any one
+within to whom he could deliver a message. He had heard, he said, that
+the master had a trusted assistant, a certain Zorzi. Pasquale answered
+that Zorzi was in the laboratory, and led the way.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi was greatly surprised, but as Venier had anticipated, he said
+nothing before Pasquale which could show that he had met his visitor
+before. Venier made a courteous inclination of the head, and the porter
+disappeared immediately.</p>
+
+<p>"I heard that you had been hurt," said Venier, when they were alone. "I
+came to see whether I could do anything for you. Can I?"</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi was touched by the kind words, spoken so quietly and sincerely,
+for it was only lately that any one except Marietta had shown him a
+little consideration. He had not forgotten how his master had taken
+leave of him, and the unexpected friendliness of old Pasquale after his
+accident had made a difference in his life; but of all men he had ever
+met, Venier was the one whom he had instinctively desired for a friend.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you come over from Venice on purpose to see me?" he asked, in
+something like wonder.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," answered Venier with a smile. "Why are you surprised?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because it is so good of you."</p>
+
+<p>"You have solemnly sworn to do as much for me, and for all the
+companions of our society," returned Venier, still smiling. "We are to
+help each other under all circumstances, as far as we can, you know. You
+are standing, and it must tire you, with those crutches. Shall we sit
+down? Tell me quite frankly, is there anything I can do for you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing you could ever do could make me more grateful than I am to you
+for coming," answered Zorzi sincerely.</p>
+
+<p>Venier took the crutches from his hands and helped him to sit on the
+bench.</p>
+
+<p>"You are very kind," Zorzi said.</p>
+
+<p>Venier sat down beside him and asked him all manner of questions about
+his accident, and how it had happened. Zorzi had no reason for
+concealing the truth from him.</p>
+
+<p>"They all hate me here," he said. "It happened like an accident, but the
+man made it happen. I do not think that he intended to maim me for life,
+but he meant to hurt me badly, and he did. There was not a man or a boy
+in the furnace room who did not understand, for no workman ever yet let
+his blow-pipe slip from his hand in swinging a piece. But I do not wish
+to make matters worse, and I have said that I believed it was an
+accident."</p>
+
+<p>"I should like to come across the man who did it," said Venier, his eyes
+growing hard and steely.</p>
+
+<p>"When I tried to hop to the furnace on one leg to save myself from
+falling, one of the men cried out that I was a dancer, and laughed. I
+hear that the name has stuck to me among the workmen. I am called the
+'Ballarin.'"</p>
+
+<p>The ignoble meanness of Zorzi's tormentors roused Venier's generous
+blood.</p>
+
+<p>"You will yet be their master," he said. "You will some day have a
+furnace of your own, and they will fawn to you. Your nickname will be
+better than their names in a few years!"</p>
+
+<p>"I hope so," answered Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>"I know it," said the other, with an energy that would have surprised
+those who only knew the listless young nobleman whom nothing could amuse
+or interest.</p>
+
+<p>He did not stay very long, and when he went away he said nothing about
+coming again. Zorzi went with him to the door. He had asked the
+Dalmatian to tell old Beroviero of his visit. Pasquale, who had never
+done such a thing in his life, actually went out upon the footway to the
+steps and steadied the gondola by the gunwale while Venier got in.</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni Beroviero saw Venier come out, for it was near noon, and he had
+just come back from his own glass-house and was standing in the shadow
+of his father's doorway, slowly fanning himself with his large cap
+before he went upstairs, for it had been very hot in the sun. He did not
+know Zuan Venier by sight, but there was no mistaking the Venetian's
+high station, and he was surprised to see that the nobleman was
+evidently on good terns with Zorzi.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
+
+
+<p>Zorzi had not left the glass-house since he had been hurt, but he
+foresaw that he might be obliged to leave the laboratory for an hour or
+more, now that he was better. He could walk, with one crutch and a
+stick, resting a little on the injured foot, and he felt sure that in a
+few days he should be able to walk with the stick alone. He had the
+certainty that he was lame for life, and now and then, when it was dusk
+and he sat under the plane-tree, meditating upon the uncertain future,
+he felt a keen pang at the thought that he might never again walk
+without limping; for he had been light and agile, and very swift of foot
+as a boy.</p>
+
+<p>He fancied that Marietta would pity him, but not as she had pitied him
+at first. There would be a little feeling of repulsion for the cripple,
+mixed with her compassion for the man. It was true that, as matters were
+going now, he might not see her often again, and he was quite sure that
+he had no right to think of loving her. Zuan Venier's visit had recalled
+very clearly the obligations by which he had solemnly bound himself, and
+which he honestly meant to fulfil; and apart from them, when he tried to
+reason about his love, he could make it seem absurd enough that he
+should dream of winning Marietta for his wife.</p>
+
+<p>But love itself does not argue. At first it is seen far off, like a
+beautiful bird of rare plumage, among flowers, on a morning in spring;
+it comes nearer, it is timid, it advances, it recedes, it poises on
+swiftly beating wings, it soars out of sight, but suddenly it is nearer
+than before; it changes shapes, and grows vast and terrible, till its
+flight is like the rushing of the whirlwind; then all is calm again, and
+in the stillness a sweet voice sings the chant of peace or the
+melancholy dirge of an endless regret; it is no longer the dove, nor the
+eagle, nor the storm that leaves ruin in its track&mdash;it is everything, it
+is life, it is the world itself, for ever and time without end, for good
+or evil, for such happiness as may pass all understanding, if God will,
+and if not, for undying sorrow.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi had forgotten his small resentment against Marietta, for not
+having given him a sign nor sent one word of greeting. He knew only that
+he loved her with all his heart and would give every hope he had for the
+pressure of her hand in his and the sound of her answering voice; and he
+dreaded lest she should pity him, as one pities a hurt creature that one
+would rather not touch.</p>
+
+<p>It would not be in the hope of seeing her that he might leave the
+laboratory before long. He felt quite sure that Giovanni would make some
+further attempt to get possession of the little book that meant fortune
+to him who should possess it; and Giovanni evidently knew where it was.
+It would he easy for him to send Zorzi on an errand of importance, as
+soon as he should be so far recovered as to walk a little. The great
+glass-houses had dealings with the banks in Venice and with merchants of
+all countries, and Beroviero had more than once sent Zorzi to Venice on
+business of moment. Giovanni would come in some morning and declare that
+he could trust no one but Zorzi to collect certain sums of money in the
+city, and he would take care that the matter should keep him absent
+several hours. That would be ample time in which to try the flagstones
+with a hammer and to turn over the right one. Zorzi had convinced
+himself that it gave a hollow sound when he tapped it and that Giovanni
+could find it easily enough.</p>
+
+<p>It was therefore folly to leave the box in its present place any longer,
+and he cast about in his mind for some safer spot in which to hide it.
+In the meantime, fearing lest Giovanni might think of sending him out at
+any moment, he waited till Pasquale had brought him water in the
+morning, and then raised the stone, as he had done before, took the box
+out of the earth and hid it in the cool end of the annealing oven, while
+he replaced the slab. The effort it cost him to move the latter told him
+plainly enough that his injury had weakened him almost as an illness
+might have done, but he succeeded in getting the stone into its bed at
+last. He tapped it with the end of his crutch as he knelt on the floor,
+and the sound it gave was even more hollow than before. He smiled as he
+thought how easily Giovanni would find the place, and how grievously
+disappointed he would be when he realised that it was empty.</p>
+
+<p>It occurred at once to Zorzi that Giovanni's first impression would
+naturally be that Zorzi had taken the book himself in order to use it
+during the master's absence; and this thought perplexed him for a time,
+until he reflected that Giovanni could not accuse him of the deed
+without accusing himself of having searched for the box, a proceeding
+which his father would never forgive. Zorzi did not intend to tell the
+master of his conversation with Giovanni, nor of his suspicions. He
+would only say that the hiding-place had not seemed safe enough, because
+the stone gave a hollow sound which even the boys would notice if
+anything fell upon it.</p>
+
+<p>But for Nella, it would be safest to give the box into Marietta's
+keeping, since no one could possibly suspect that it could have found
+its way to her room. At the mere thought, his heart beat fast. It would
+be a reason for seeing her alone, if he could, and for talking with her.
+He planned how he would send her a message by Nella, begging that he
+might speak to her on some urgent business of her father's, and she
+would come as she had come before; they would talk in the garden, under
+the plane-tree, where Pasquale and Nella could see them, and he would
+explain what he wanted. Then he would give her the box. He thought of it
+with calm delight, as he saw it all in a beautiful vision.</p>
+
+<p>But there was Nella, and there was Pasquale, the former indiscreet, the
+latter silent but keen-sighted, and quick-witted in spite of his slow
+and surly ways. Every one knew that the book existed somewhere, and the
+porter and the serving-woman would guess the truth at once. At present
+no one but himself knew positively where the thing was. If he carried
+out his plan, three other persons would possess the knowledge. It was
+not to be thought of.</p>
+
+<p>He looked about the laboratory. There were the beams and crossbeams, and
+the box would probably just fit into one of the shadowy interstices
+between two of the latter. But they were twenty feet from the ground, he
+had no ladder, and if there had been one at hand he could not have
+mounted it yet. His eye fell on the big earthen jar, more than half a
+man's height and as big round as a hogshead, half full of broken glass
+from the experiments. No one would think of it as a place for hiding
+anything, and it would not be emptied till it was quite full, several
+months hence. Besides, no one would dare to empty it without Beroviero's
+orders, as it contained nothing but fine red glass, which was valuable
+and only needed melting to be used at once.</p>
+
+<p>It was not an easy matter to take out half the contents, and he was in
+constant danger of interruption. At night it would have been impossible
+owing to the presence of the boys. If Pasquale appeared and saw a heap
+of broken glass on the floor, he would surely suspect something. Zorzi
+calculated that it would take two hours to remove the fragments with the
+care necessary to avoid cutting his hands badly, and to put them back
+again, for the shape of the jar would not admit of his employing even
+one of the small iron shovels used for filling the crucibles.</p>
+
+<p>With considerable difficulty he moved a large chest, that contained
+sifted white sand, out of the dark corner in which it stood and placed
+it diagonally so as to leave a triangular space behind it. To guard
+against the sound of the broken glass being heard from without, he shut
+the window, in spite of the heat, and having arranged in the corner one
+of the sacks used for bringing the cakes of kelp-ashes from Egypt, he
+began to fill it with the broken glass he brought from the jar in a
+bucket. When he judged that he had taken out more than half the
+contents, he took the iron box from the annealing oven. It was hard to
+carry it under the arm by which he walked with a stick, the other hand
+being necessary to move the crutch, and as he reached the jar he felt
+that it was slipping. He bent forward and it fell with a crash, bedding
+itself in the smashed glass. Zorzi drew a long breath of satisfaction,
+for the hardest part of the work was done.</p>
+
+<p>He tried to heave up the sack from the corner, but it was far too heavy,
+and he was obliged to bring back more than half of what it held by
+bucketfuls, before he was able to bring the rest, dragging it after him
+across the floor. It was finished at last, he had shaken out the sack
+carefully over the jar's mouth, and he had moved the sand-chest back to
+its original position. No one would have imagined that the broken glass
+had been removed and put back again. The box was safely hidden now.</p>
+
+<p>He was utterly exhausted when he dropped into the big chair, after
+washing the dust and blood from his hands&mdash;for it had been impossible to
+do what he had done without getting a few scratches, though none of them
+could have been called a cut. He sat quite still and closed his eyes.
+The box was safe now. It was not to be imagined that any one should ever
+suspect where it was, and on that point he was well satisfied. His only
+possible cause of anxiety now might be that if anything should happen to
+him, the master would be in ignorance of what he had done. But he saw no
+reason to expect anything so serious and his mind was at rest about a
+matter which had much disturbed him ever since Giovanni's visit.</p>
+
+<p>The plan which he had attributed to the latter was not, however, the one
+which suggested itself to the younger Beroviero's mind. It would have
+been easy to carry out, and was very simple, and for that very reason
+Giovanni did not think of it. Besides, in his estimation it would be
+better to act in such a way as to get rid of Zorzi for ever, if that
+were possible.</p>
+
+<p>On the Saturday night after Zorzi had hidden the box in the jar, the
+workmen cleared away the litter in the main furnace rooms and the order
+was given to let the fires go out. Zorzi sent word to the night boys who
+tended the fire in the laboratory that they were to come as usual. They
+appeared punctually, and to his surprise made no objection to working,
+though he had expected that they would complain of the heat and allege
+that their fathers would not let them go on any longer. On Sunday,
+according to the old rule of the house, no work was done, and Zorzi kept
+up the fire himself, spending most of the long day in the garden. On
+Sunday night the boys came again and went to work without a word, and in
+the morning they left the usual supply of chopped billets piled up and
+ready for use. Zorzi had rested himself thoroughly and went back to his
+experiments on that Monday with fresh energy.</p>
+
+<p>The very first test he took of the glass that had been fusing since
+Saturday night was successful beyond his highest expectations. He had
+grown reckless after having spoiled the original mixtures by adding the
+copper in the hope of getting more of the wonderful red, and carried
+away by the love of the art and by the certainty of ultimate success
+which every man of genius feels almost from boyhood, he had deliberately
+attempted to produce the white glass for which Beroviero was famous. He
+followed a theory of his own in doing so, for although he was tolerably
+sure of the nature of the ingredients, as was every workman in the
+house, neither he nor they knew anything of the proportions in which
+Beroviero mixed the substances, and every glass-maker knows by
+experience that those proportions constitute by far the most important
+element of success.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi had not poured out the specimen on the table as he had done when
+the glass was coloured; on the contrary he had taken some on the
+blow-pipe and had begun to work with it at once, for the three great
+requisites were transparency, ductility, and lightness. In a few minutes
+he had convinced himself that his glass possessed all these qualities in
+an even higher degree than the master's own, and that was immeasurably
+superior to anything which the latter's own sons or any other
+glass-maker could produce. Zorzi had taken very little at first, and he
+made of it a thin phial of graceful shape, turned the mouth outward, and
+dropped the little vessel into the bed of ashes. He would have set it in
+the annealing oven, but he wished to try the weight of it, and he let it
+cool. Taking it up when he could touch it safely, it felt in his hand
+like a thing of air. On the shelf was another nearly like it in size,
+which he had made long ago with Beroviero's glass. There were scales on
+the table; he laid one phial in each, and the old one was by far the
+heavier. He had to put a number of pennyweights into the scale with his
+own before the two were balanced.</p>
+
+<p>His heart almost stood still, and he could not believe his good fortune.
+He took the sheet of rough paper on which he had written down the
+precise contents of the three crucibles, and he carefully went over the
+proportions of the ingredients in the one from which he had just taken
+his specimen. He made a strong effort of memory, trying to recall
+whether he had been careless and inexact in weighing any of the
+materials, but he knew that he had been most precise. He had also noted
+the hour at which he had put the mixture into the crucible on Saturday,
+and he now glanced at the sand-glass and made another note. But he did
+not lay the paper upon the table, where it had been lying for two days,
+kept in place by a little glass weight. It had become his most precious
+possession; what was written on it meant a fortune as soon as he could
+get a furnace to himself; it was his own, and not the master's; it was
+wealth, it might even be fame. Beroviero might call him to account for
+misusing the furnace, but that was no capital offence after all, and it
+was more than paid for by the single crucible of magnificent red glass.
+Zorzi was attempting to reproduce that too, for he had the master's
+notes of what the pot had contained, and it was almost ready to be
+tried; he even had the piece of copper carefully weighed to be equal in
+bulk with the ladle that had been melted. If he succeeded there also,
+that was a new secret for Beroviero, but the other was for himself.</p>
+
+<p>All that morning he revelled in the delight of working with the new
+glass. A marvellous dish with upturned edge and ornamented foot was the
+next thing he made, and he placed it at once in the annealing oven. Then
+he made a tall drinking glass such as he had never made before, and
+then, in contrast, a tiny ampulla, so small that he could almost hide it
+in his hand, with its spout, yet decorated with all the perfection of a
+larger piece. He worked on, careless of the time, his genius all alive,
+the rest a distant dream.</p>
+
+<p>He was putting the finishing touches to a beaker of a new shape when
+the door opened, and Giovanni entered the laboratory. Zorzi was seated
+on the working stool, the pontil in one hand, the 'porcello' in the
+other. He glanced at Giovanni absently and went on, for it was the last
+touch and the glass was cooling quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"Still working, in this heat?" asked Giovanni, fanning himself with his
+cap as was his custom.</p>
+
+<p>There was a moment's silence. Then a sharp clicking sound and the beaker
+fell finished into the soft ashes.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I am still at work, as you see," answered Zorzi, not realising
+that Giovanni would particularly notice what he was doing.</p>
+
+<p>He rose with some difficulty and got his crutch under one arm. With a
+forked stick he took the beaker from the ashes and placed it in the
+annealing oven. Giovanni watched him, and when the broad iron door was
+open, he saw the other pieces already standing inside on the iron tray.</p>
+
+<p>"Admirable!" cried Giovanni. "You are a great artist, my dear Zorzi!
+There is no one like you!"</p>
+
+<p>"I do what I can," answered Zorzi, closing the door quickly, lest the
+hot end of the oven should cool at all.</p>
+
+<p>"I should say that you do what no one else can," returned Giovanni. "But
+how lame you are! I had expected to find you walking as well as ever by
+this time."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall never walk again without limping."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, take courage!" said Giovanni, who seemed determined to be both
+cheerful and flattering. "You will soon be as light on your feet as
+ever. But it was a shocking accident."</p>
+
+<p>He sat down in the big chair and Zorzi took the small one by the table,
+wishing that he would go away.</p>
+
+<p>"It is a pity that you had no white glass in the furnace on that
+particular day," Giovanni continued. "You said you had none, if I
+remember. How is it that you have it now? Have you changed one of the
+crucibles?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. One of the experiments succeeded so well that it seemed better to
+take out all the glass."</p>
+
+<p>"May I see a piece of it?" inquired Giovanni, as if he were asking a
+great favour.</p>
+
+<p>It was one thing to let him test the glass himself, it was quite another
+to show him a piece of it. He would see it sooner or later, and he could
+guess nothing of its composition.</p>
+
+<p>"The specimen is there, on the table," Zorzi answered.</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni rose at once and took the piece from the paper on which it lay,
+and held it up against the light. He was amazed at the richness of the
+colour, and gave vent to all sorts of exclamations.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you make this?" he asked at last.</p>
+
+<p>"It is the result of the master's experiments."</p>
+
+<p>"It is marvellous! He has made another fortune."</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni replaced the specimen where it had lain, and as he did so, his
+eye fell on the phial Zorzi had made that morning. Zorzi had not put it
+into the annealing oven because it had been allowed to get quite cold,
+so that the annealing would have been imperfect. Giovanni took it up,
+and uttered a low exclamation of surprise at its lightness. He held it
+up and looked through it, and then he took it by the neck and tapped it
+sharply with his finger-nail.</p>
+
+<p>"Take care," said Zorzi; "it is not annealed. It may fly."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" exclaimed Giovanni. "Have you just made it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"It is the finest glass I ever saw. It is much better than what they had
+in the main furnaces the day you were hurt. Did you not find it so
+yourself, in working with it?"</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi began to feel anxious as to the result of so much questioning.
+Whatever happened he must hide from Giovanni the fact that he had
+discovered a new glass of his own.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," he answered, with affected indifference. "I thought it was
+unusually good. I daresay there may be some slight difference in the
+proportions."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mean to say that my father does not follow any exact rule?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh yes. But he is always making experiments."</p>
+
+<p>"He mixes all the materials for the main furnaces himself, does he not?"
+inquired Giovanni.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. He does it alone, in the room that is kept locked. When he has
+finished, the men come and carry out the barrows. The materials are
+stirred and mixed together outside."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I do it in the same way myself. Have you ever helped my father in
+that work?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, certainly not. If I had helped him once, I should know the secret."
+Zorzi smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"But if you do not know the secret," said Giovanni unexpectedly, "how
+did you make this glass?"</p>
+
+<p>He held up the phial.</p>
+
+<p>"Why do you suppose that I made it?" Zorzi felt himself growing pale.
+"The master has supplies of everything here in the laboratory and in the
+little room where I sleep."</p>
+
+<p>"Is there white glass here too?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course!" answered Zorzi readily. "There is half a jar of it in my
+room. We keep it there so that the night boys may not steal it a little
+at a time."</p>
+
+<p>"I see," answered Giovanni. "That is very sensible."</p>
+
+<p>He was firmly convinced that if he asked Zorzi any more direct question,
+the answer would be a falsehood, and he applauded himself for stopping
+at the point he had reached in his inquiries. For he was an experienced
+glass-maker and was perfectly sure that the phial was not made from
+Beroviero's ordinary glass. It followed that Zorzi had used the precious
+book, and Giovanni inferred that the rest was a lucky accident.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you sell me one of those beautiful things you have in the oven?"
+Giovanni asked, in an insinuating tone.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi hesitated. The master had often paid him a fair price for objects
+he had made, and which were used in Beroviero's house, as has been told.
+Zorzi did not wish to irritate Giovanni by refusing, and after all,
+there was no great difference between being paid by old Beroviero or by
+his son. The fact that he worked in glass, which had been an open secret
+among the workmen for a long time, was now no secret at all. The
+question was rather as to his right, being Beroviero's trusted
+assistant, to sell anything out of the house.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you?" asked Giovanni, after waiting a few moments for an answer.</p>
+
+<p>"I would rather wait until the master comes back," said Zorzi
+doubtfully. "I am not quite sure about it."</p>
+
+<p>"I will take all the responsibility," Giovanni answered cheerfully. "Am
+I not free to come to my father's glass-house and buy a beaker or a dish
+for myself, if I please? Of course I am. But there is no real difference
+between buying from you, on one side of the garden, or from the furnace
+on the other. Is there?"</p>
+
+<p>"The difference is that in the one case you buy from the master and pay
+him, but now you are offering to pay me, who am already well paid by him
+for any work I may do."</p>
+
+<p>"You are very scrupulous," said Giovanni in a disappointed tone. "Tell
+me, does my father never give you anything for the things you make, and
+which you say are in the house?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh yes," answered Zorzi promptly. "He always pays me for them."</p>
+
+<p>"But that shows that he does not consider them as part of the work you
+are regularly paid to do, does it not?"</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose so," Zorzi said, turning over the question in his mind.</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni took a small piece of gold from the purse he carried at his
+belt, and he laid it on the flat arm of the chair beside him, and put
+down one of his crooked forefingers upon it.</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot see what objection you can have, in that case. You know very
+well that young painters who work for masters help them, but are always
+allowed to sell anything they can paint in their leisure time."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. That is true. I will take the money, sir, and you may choose any
+of the pieces you like. When the master comes, I will tell him, and if I
+have no right to the price he shall keep it himself."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you really suppose that my father would be mean enough to take the
+money?" asked Giovanni, who would certainly have taken it himself under
+the circumstances.</p>
+
+<p>"No. He is very generous. Nevertheless, I shall certainly tell him the
+whole story."</p>
+
+<p>"That is your affair. I have nothing to say about it. Here is the money,
+for which I will take the beaker I saw you finishing when I came in. Is
+it enough? Is it a fair price?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is a very good price," Zorzi answered. "But there may be a piece
+among those in the oven which you will like better. Will you not come
+to-morrow, when they are all annealed, and make your choice?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. I have fallen in love with the piece I saw you making."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well. You shall have it, and many thanks."</p>
+
+<p>"Here is the money, and thanks to you," said Giovanni, holding out the
+little piece of gold.</p>
+
+<p>"You shall pay me when you take the beaker," objected Zorzi. "It may
+fly, or turn out badly."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no!" answered Giovanni, rising, and putting the money into Zorzi's
+hand. "If anything happens to it, I will take another. I am afraid that
+you may change your mind, you see, and I am very anxious to have such a
+beautiful thing."</p>
+
+<p>He laughed cheerfully, nodded to Zorzi and went out at once, almost
+before the latter had time to rise from his seat and get his crutch
+under his arm.</p>
+
+<p>When he was alone, Zorzi looked at the coin and laid it on the table. He
+was much puzzled by Giovanni's conduct, but at the same time his
+artist's vanity was flattered by what had happened. Giovanni's
+admiration of the glass was genuine; there could be no doubt of that,
+and he was a good judge. As for the work, Zorzi knew quite well that
+there was not a glass-blower in Murano who could approach him either in
+taste or skill. Old Beroviero had told him so within the last few
+months, and he felt that it was true.</p>
+
+<p>He would have been neither a natural man nor a born artist if he had
+refused to sell the beaker, out of an exaggerated scruple. But the
+transaction had shown him that his only chance of success for the future
+lay in frankly telling old Beroviero what he had done in his absence,
+while reserving his secret for himself. The master was proud of him as
+his pupil, and sincerely attached to him as a man, and would certainly
+not try to force him into explaining how the glass was made. Besides,
+the glass itself was there, easily distinguished from any other, and
+Zorzi could neither hide it nor throw it away.</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni went out upon the footway, and as he passed, Pasquale thought
+he had never seen him so cheerful. The sour look had gone out of his
+face, and he was actually smiling to himself. With such a man it would
+hardly have been possible to attribute his pleased expression to the
+satisfaction he felt in having bought Zorzi's beaker. He had never
+before, in his whole life, parted with a piece of gold without a little
+pang of regret; but he had felt the most keen and genuine pleasure just
+now, when Zorzi had at last accepted the coin.</p>
+
+<p>Pasquale watched him cross the wooden bridge and go into his father's
+house opposite. Then the old porter shut the door and went back to the
+laboratory, walking slowly with his ugly head bent a little, as if in
+deep thought. Zorzi had already resumed his occupation and had a lump of
+hot glass swinging on his blow-pipe, his crutch being under his right
+arm.</p>
+
+<p>"Half a rainbow to windward," observed the old sailor. "There will be a
+squall before long."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?" asked Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>"If you had seen the Signor Giovanni smile, as he went out, you would
+know what I mean," answered Pasquale. "In our seas, when we see the
+stump of a rainbow low down in the clouds, we say it is the eye of the
+wind, looking out for us, and I can tell you that the wind is never long
+in coming!"</p>
+
+<p>"Did you say anything to make him smile?" asked Zorzi, going on with his
+work.</p>
+
+<p>"I am not a mountebank," growled the porter. "I am not a strolling
+player at the door of his booth at a fair, cracking jokes with those who
+pass! But perhaps it was you who said something amusing to him, just
+before he left? Who knows? I always took you for a grave young man. It
+seems that I was mistaken. You make jokes. You cause a serious person
+like the Signor Giovanni to die of laughing."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2>
+
+
+<p>Giovanni sat in his father's own room at home, with shut doors, and he
+was writing. He had received as good an education as any young nobleman
+or rich merchant's son in Venice, but writing was always irksome to him,
+and he generally employed a scribe rather than take the pen himself.
+To-day he preferred to dispense with help, instead of trusting the
+discretion of a secretary; and this is what he was setting down.</p>
+
+<p>"I, Giovanni Beroviero, the son of Angelo, of Murano, the glass-maker,
+being in my father's absence and in his stead the Master of our
+honourable Guild of Glass-makers, do entreat your Magnificence to
+interfere and act for the preservation of our ancient rights and
+privileges and for the maintenance of the just laws of Venice, and for
+the honour of the Republic, and for the public good of Murano. There is
+a certain Zorzi, called the Ballarin, who was a servant of the aforesaid
+Angelo Beroviero, a Dalmatian and a foreigner and a fellow of no worth,
+who formerly swept the floor of the said Angelo's furnace room, which
+the said Angelo keeps for his private use. This fellow therefore, this
+foreigner, the said Angelo being absent on a long journey, was left by
+him to watch the fire in the said room, there being certain new glass
+in the crucibles of the said furnace, which the said Zorzi, called the
+Ballarin, was to keep hot a certain number of days. And now in the
+torrid heat of summer, the canicular days being at hand, the furnaces in
+the glass-house of the said Angelo have been extinguished. But this
+Zorzi, called the Ballarin, although he has removed from the furnace of
+the said Angelo the glass which was to be kept hot, does insolently and
+defiantly refuse to put out the fire in the said furnace, and forces the
+boys to make the fire all night, to the great injury of their health,
+because the canicular days are approaching. But the said Zorzi, called
+the Ballarin, like a raging devil come upon earth from his master Satan,
+heeds no heat. And he has no respect of laws, nor of persons, nor of the
+honourable Guild, nor of the Republic, working day and night at the
+glass-blower's art, just as if he were not a Dalmatian, and a foreigner,
+and a low fellow of no worth. Moreover, he has made glass himself, which
+it is forbidden for any foreigner to make throughout the dominions of
+the Republic. Moreover, it is a good white glass, which he could not
+have made if he had not wickedly, secretly and feloniously stolen a book
+which is the property of the aforesaid Angelo, and which contains many
+things concerning the making of glass. Moreover, this Zorzi, called the
+Ballarin, is a liar, a thief and an assassin, for of the good white
+glass which he has melted by means of the said Angelo's secrets, he
+makes vessels, such as phials, ampullas and dishes, which it is not
+lawful for any foreigner to make. Moreover, in the vile wickedness of
+his shameless heart, the said Zorzi, called the Ballarin, has the
+presumption and effrontery to sell the said vessels, openly admitting
+that he has made them. And they are well made, with diabolical skill,
+and the sale of the said vessels is a great injury to the glass-blowers
+of Murano, and to the honourable Guild, besides being an affront to the
+Republic. I, the aforesaid Giovanni, was indeed unable to believe that
+such monstrous wickedness could exist. I therefore went into the furnace
+room myself, and there I found the said Zorzi, called the Ballarin,
+working alone and making a certain piece in the form of a beaker. And
+though he knows me, that I am the son of his master, he is so lost to
+all shame, that he continued to work before me, as if he were a
+glass-blower, and though I fanned myself in order not to die of heat, he
+worked before the fire, and felt nothing, raging like a devil. I
+therefore offered to buy the beaker he was making and I put down a piece
+of money, and the said Zorzi, called the Ballarin, a liar, a thief and
+an assassin, took the said piece of money, and set the said beaker
+within the annealing oven of the said furnace, wherein I saw many other
+pieces of fine workmanship, and he said that I should have the said
+beaker when it was annealed. Wherefore I, being for the time the Master
+of the honourable Guild in the stead of the said Angelo, entreat your
+Magnificence on behalf of the said Guild to interfere and act for the
+preservation of our ancient rights and privileges, and for the honour of
+the Republic. Moreover, I entreat your Magnificence to send a force by
+night, in order that there may be no scandal, to take the said Zorzi,
+called the Ballarin, and to bind him, and carry him to Venice, that he
+may be tried for his monstrous crimes, and be questioned, even with
+torture, as to others which he has certainly committed, and be exiled
+from all the dominions of the Republic for ever on pain of being hanged,
+that in this way our laws may be maintained and our privileges
+preserved. Moreover, I will give any further information of the same
+kind which your Magnificence may desire. At Murano, in the house of
+Angelo Beroviero, my father, this third day of July, in the year of the
+Salvation of the World fourteen hundred and seventy, Giovanni Beroviero,
+the glass-maker."</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni had taken a long time in the composition of this remarkable
+document. He sat in his linen shirt and black hose, but he had paused
+often to fan himself with a sheet of paper, and to wipe the perspiration
+from his forehead, for although he was a lean man he suffered much from
+the heat, owing to a weakness of his heart.</p>
+
+<p>He folded the two sheets of his letter and tied them with a silk string,
+of which he squeezed the knot into pasty red wax, which he worked with
+his fingers, and upon this he pressed the iron seal of the guild, using
+both his hands and standing up in order to add his weight to the
+pressure. The missive was destined for the Podest&agrave; of Murano, which is
+to say, for the Governor, who was a patrician of Venice and a most high
+and mighty personage. Giovanni did not mean to trust to any messenger.
+That very afternoon, when he had slept after dinner, and the sun was
+low, he would have himself rowed to the Governor's house, and he would
+deliver the letter himself, or if possible he would see the dignitary
+and explain even more fully that Zorzi, called the Ballarin, was a liar,
+a thief and an assassin. He felt a good deal of pride in what he had
+written so carefully, and he was sure that his case was strong. In
+another day or two, Zorzi would be gone for ever from Murano, Giovanni
+would have the precious manuscript in his possession, and when old
+Beroviero returned Giovanni would use the book as a weapon against his
+father, who would be furiously angry to find his favourite assistant
+gone. It was all very well planned, he thought, and was sure to succeed.
+He would even take possession of the beautiful red glass, and of the
+still more wonderful white glass which Zorzi had made for himself. By
+the help of the book, he should soon be able to produce the same in his
+own furnaces. The vision of a golden future opened before him. He would
+outdo all the other glass-makers in every market, from Paris to Palermo,
+from distant England to Egyptian Alexandria, wheresoever the vast trade
+of Venice carried those huge bales of delicate glass, carefully packed
+in the dried seaweed of the lagoons. Gold would follow gold, and his
+wealth would increase, till it became greater than that of any patrician
+in Venice. Who could tell but that, in time, the great exception might
+be made for him, and he might be admitted to sit in the Grand Council,
+he and his heirs for ever, just as if he had been born a real patrician
+and not merely a member of the half-noble caste of glass-blowers? Such
+things were surely possible.</p>
+
+<p>In the cooler hours of the afternoon he got into his father's gondola,
+for he was far too economical to keep one of his own, and he had himself
+rowed to the house of the Governor, on the Grand Canal of Murano. But at
+the door he was told that the official was in Venice and would not
+return till the following day. The liveried porter was not sure where he
+might be found, but he often went to the palace of the Contarini, who
+were his near relations. The Signor Giovanni, to whom the porter was
+monstrously civil, might give himself the fatigue of being taken there
+in his gondola. In any case it would be easy to find the Governor. He
+would perhaps be on the Grand Canal in Venice at the hour when all the
+patricians were taking the air. It was very probable indeed.</p>
+
+<p>The porter bowed low as the gondola pushed off, and Giovanni leaned back
+in the comfortable seat, to repeat again and again in his mind what he
+meant to say if he succeeded in speaking with the Governor. He had his
+letter of complaint safe in his wallet, and he could remember every word
+he had written. In order to go to Venice, the nearest way was to return
+from the Grand Canal of Murano by the canal of San Piero, and to pass
+the glass-house. The door was shut as usual, and Giovanni smiled as he
+thought of how the city archers would go in, perhaps that very night,
+to take Zorzi away. He would not be with them, but when they were gone,
+he would go and find the book under one of the stones. When he had got
+it, his father might come home, for all Giovanni cared.</p>
+
+<p>Before long the gondola was winding its way through the narrow canals,
+now shooting swiftly along a short straight stretch, between a monastery
+and a palace, now brought to by a turn of the hand at a corner, as the
+man at the oar shouted out a direction meant for whoever might be
+coming, by the right or left, as one should say "starboard helm" or
+"port helm," and both doing the same, two vessels pass clear of one
+another; and to this day the gondoliers of Venice use the old words, and
+tell long-winded stories of their derivation and first meaning, which
+seem quite unnecessary. But in Beroviero's time, the gondola had only
+lately come into fashion, and every one adopted it quickly because it
+was much cheaper than keeping horses, and it was far more pleasant to be
+taken quickly by water, by shorter ways, than to ride in the narrow
+streets, in the mud in winter and in the dust in summer, jostling those
+who walked, and sometimes quarrelling with those who rode, because the
+way was too narrow for one horse to pass another, when both had riders
+on their backs. Moreover, it was law that after nine o'clock in the
+morning no man who had reached the fig-tree that grew in the open space
+before San Salvatore, should ride to Saint Mark's by the Merceria, so
+that people had to walk the rest of the way, leaving their horses to
+grooms. The gondola was therefore a great convenience, besides being a
+notable economy, and old Francesco Sansovino says that in his day, which
+was within a lifetime of Angelo Beroviero's, there were nine or ten
+thousand gondolas in Venice. But at first they had not the high peaked
+stem of iron, and stem and stern were made almost alike, as in the
+Venetian boats and skiffs of our own time.</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni got out at the steps of the Contarini palace, which, of the
+many that even then belonged to different branches of that great house,
+was distinguished above all others by its marvellous outer winding
+staircase, which still stands in all its beauty and slender grace. But
+near the great palace there were little wooden houses of two stories,
+some new and straight and gaily painted, but some old and crooked,
+hanging over the canals so that they seemed ready to topple down, with
+crazy outer balconies half closed in by lattices behind which the women
+sat for coolness, and sometimes even slept in the hot months. For the
+great city of stone and brick was not half built yet, and the space
+before Saint Mark's was much larger than it is now, for the Procuratie
+did not yet exist, nor the clock, but the great bell-tower stood almost
+in the middle of an open square, and there were little wooden booths at
+its base, in which all sorts of cheap trinkets were sold. There were
+also such booths and small shops at the base of the two columns. Also,
+the bridge of Rialto was a broad bridge of boats, on which shops were
+built on each side of the way, and the middle of the bridge could be
+drawn out, for the great Bucentoro to pass through, when the Doge went
+out in state to wed the sea.</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni Beroviero was well known to Contarini's household, for all knew
+of the approaching marriage, and the servants were not surprised when he
+inquired for the Governor of Murano, saying that his business was
+urgent. But the Governor was not there, nor the master of the house.
+They were gone to the Grand Canal. Would the Signor Giovanni like to
+speak with Messer Jacopo, who chanced to be in the palace and alone? It
+was still early, and Giovanni thought that the opportunity was a good
+one for ingratiating himself with his future brother-in-law. He would go
+in, if he should not disturb Messer Jacopo. He was announced and ushered
+respectfully into the great hall, and thence up the broad staircase to
+the hall of reception above. And below, his gondoliers gossiped with the
+servants, talking about the coming marriage, and many indiscreet things
+were said, which it was better that their masters should not hear; as
+for instance that Jacopo was really living in the house of the Agnus
+Dei, where he kept a beautiful Georgian slave in unheard-of luxury, and
+that this was a great grief to his father, who was therefore very
+desirous of hastening the marriage with Marietta. The porter winked one
+eye solemnly at the head gondolier, as who should imply that the
+establishment at the Agnus Dei would not be given up for twenty
+marriages; but the gondolier said boldly that if Jacopo did not change
+his life after he had married Marietta, something would happen to him.
+Upon this the porter inquired superciliously what, in the name of a
+great many beings, celestial and infernal, could possibly happen to any
+Contarini who chose to do as he pleased. The gondolier answered that
+there were laws, the porter retorted that the laws were made for
+glass-blowers but not for patricians, and the two might have come to
+blows if they had not just then heard their masters' voices from the
+landing of the great staircase; and of coarse it was far more important
+to overhear all they could of the conversation than to quarrel about a
+point of law.</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni was too full of his plan for Zorzi's destruction to resist the
+temptation of laying the whole case before Contarini, who was so soon to
+be a member of the family, and as Jacopo, who was himself going out,
+accompanied his guest downstairs, Giovanni continued to talk of the
+matter earnestly, and Contarini answered him by occasional monosyllables
+and short sentences, much interested by the whole affair, but wishing
+that Giovanni would go away, now that he had told all. He was in
+constant fear lest Zorzi should say something which might betray the
+meetings at the house of the Agnus Dei, and had often regretted that he
+had not been put quietly out of the way, instead of being admitted to
+the society. Now after hearing what Giovanni had to say, he had not the
+slightest doubt but that Zorzi had really broken the laws, and it seemed
+an admirable solution of the whole affair that the Dalmatian should be
+exiled from the Republic for life. That being settled, he wished to get
+rid of his visitor, as Arisa was waiting for him.</p>
+
+<p>"I assure you," Giovanni said, "that this miserable Zorzi is a liar, a
+thief and an assassin."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," assented Contarini carelessly, "I have no doubt of it."</p>
+
+<p>"The best thing is to arrest him at once, this very night, if possible,
+and have him brought before the Council."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>Contarini had agreed with Giovanni on this point already, and made a
+movement to descend, but Giovanni loved to stand still in order to talk,
+and he would not move. Contarini waited for him.</p>
+
+<p>"It is important that some member of the Council should be informed of
+the truth beforehand," he continued. "Will you speak to your father
+about it, Messer Jacopo?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," answered Contarini, and he spoke the word intentionally with
+great emphasis, in the hope that Giovanni would be finally satisfied and
+go away.</p>
+
+<p>"You will be conferring a benefit on the city of Murano," said Giovanni
+in a tone of gratitude, and this time he began to come down the steps.</p>
+
+<p>The gondolier had heard every word that had been said, as well as the
+servants in the lower hall; but to them the conversation had no especial
+meaning, as they knew nothing of Zorzi. To the gondolier, on the other
+hand, who was devoted to his master and detested his master's son, it
+meant much, though his stolid, face did not betray the slightest
+intelligence.</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni took leave of Contarini with much ceremony, a little too much,
+Jacopo thought.</p>
+
+<p>"To the Grand Canal," said Giovanni as the gondolier helped him to get
+in, and he backed under the 'felse.' "Try and find the Governor of
+Murano, and if you see him, take me alongside his gondola."</p>
+
+<p>The sun was now low, and as the light craft shot out at last upon the
+Grand Canal, the breeze came up from the land, cool and refreshing.
+Scores of gondolas were moving up and down, some with the black 'felse,'
+some without, and in the latter there were beautiful women, whose
+sun-dyed hair shone resplendent under the thin embroidered veils that
+loosely covered it. They wore silk and satin of rich hues, and jewels,
+and some were clad in well-fitting bodices that were nets of thin gold
+cord drawn close over velvet, with lawn sleeves gathered to the fore-arm
+and the upper-arm by netting of seed pearls. Beside some of them sat
+their husbands or their fathers, in robes and mantles of satin and silk,
+or in wide coats of rich stuff, open at the neck; bearded men,
+straight-featured, and often very pale, wearing great puffed caps set
+far back on their smooth hair, their white hands playing with their
+gloves, their dark eyes searching out from afar the faces of famous
+beauties, or, if they were grey-haired men, fixed thoughtfully before
+them.</p>
+
+<p>Overall the evening light descended like a mist of gold, reflected from
+the sculptured walls of palaces, where marble columns and light
+traceries of stone were dyed red and orange and almost purple by the
+setting sun, and nestling among the carved beams and far-projecting
+balconies of wooden houses that overhung the canal, gilding the water
+itself where the broad-bladed oars struck deep and churned it, and swept
+aft, and steered with a poising, feathering backstroke, or where tiny
+waves were dashed up by a gondola's bright iron stem. Slowly the water
+turned to wine below, the clear outlines of the palaces stood out less
+sharply against the paling sky, the golden cloudlets, floating behind
+the great tower of Saint Mark's presently faded to wreaths of delicate
+mist. The bells rung out from church and monastery, far and near, till
+the air was filled with a deep music, telling all Venice that the day
+was done.</p>
+
+<p>Then the many voices that had echoed in greeting and in laughter, from
+boat to boat, were hushed a moment, and almost every man took off his
+hat or cap, the robed Councillor and the gondolier behind him; and also
+a good number of the great ladies made the sign of the cross and were
+silent a while. It was the hour when Venice puts forth her stealing
+charm, when the terrible distinctness of her splendour grows gentle and
+almost human, and the little mystery of each young life rises from the
+heart to hold converse with the sweet, mysterious all. Through the long
+day the palaces look down consciously at themselves, mirrored in the
+calm water where they stand, and each seems to say "I am finer than
+you," or "My master is still richer than yours," or "You are going to
+ruin faster than I am," or "I was built by a Lombardo," or "I by
+Sansovino," and the violent light is ever there to bear witness of the
+truth of what each says. Within, without, in hall and church and
+gallery, there is perpetual brightness and perpetual silence. But at the
+evening hour, now, as in old times, a spirit takes Venice and folds it
+in loving arms, whispering words that are not even guessed by day.</p>
+
+<p>The Ave Maria had not ceased ringing when Giovanni's gondolier came up
+with the Governor of Murano. He was alone, and at his invitation
+Giovanni left his own craft and sat down beside the patrician, whose
+gondola was uncovered for coolness. Giovanni talked earnestly in low
+tones, holding his sealed letter in his hand, while his own oarsman
+watched him closely in the advancing dusk, but was too wise to try to
+overhear what was said. He knew well enough now what Giovanni wanted of
+the Governor, and what he obtained.</p>
+
+<p>"Not to-night," the Governor said audibly, as Giovanni returned to his
+own gondola. "To-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni turned before getting under the 'felse,' bowed low as he stood
+up and said a few words of thanks, which the Governor could hardly have
+heard as his boat shot ahead, though he made one more gracious gesture
+with his hand. The shadows descended quickly now, and everywhere the
+little lights came out, from latticed balconies and palace windows left
+open to let in the cool air, and from the silently gliding gondolas
+that each carried a small lamp; and here and there between tall houses
+the young summer moon fell across the black water, rippling under the
+freshening breeze, and it was like a shower of silver falling into a
+widow's lap.</p>
+
+<p>But Giovanni saw none of these things, and if he had looked out of the
+small windows of the 'felse,' he would not have cared to see them, for
+beauty did not appeal to him in nature any more than in art, except that
+in the latter it was a cause of value in things. Besides, as he suffered
+from the heat all day, he was afraid of being chilled at evening; so he
+sat inside the 'felse,' gloating over the success of his trip. The
+Governor, who knew nothing of Zorzi but was well aware of Giovanni's
+importance in Murano, had readily consented to arrest the poor Dalmatian
+who was represented as such a dangerous person, besides being a liar and
+other things, and Giovanni had particularly requested that the force
+sent should be sufficient to overpower the "raging devil" at once and
+without scandal. He judged that ten men would suffice for this, he said.
+The fact was that he feared some resistance on the part of Pasquale,
+whom he knew to be a friend to Zorzi. He had carefully abstained from
+alluding to Zorzi's lameness, lest the mere mention of it should excite
+some compassion in his hearer. He had in fact done everything to assure
+the success of his scheme, except the one thing which was the most
+necessary of all. He had allowed himself to speak of it in the hearing
+of the gondolier who hated him, and who lost no time in making use of
+the information.</p>
+
+<p>It was nearly supper-time when he deposited Giovanni at the steps of the
+house and took the gondola round to the narrow canal in which the boats
+lay, and which was under Nella's window. The shutters were wide open,
+and there was a light within. He called the serving-woman by name, and
+she looked out, and asked what he wanted. Then, as now, gondoliers
+worked indoors like the servants when not busy with the boats, and slept
+in the house. The man was on friendly terms with Nella, who liked him
+because he thought her mistress the most perfect creature in the world.</p>
+
+<p>"I have ripped the arm of my doublet," he said. "Can you mend it for me
+this evening?"</p>
+
+<p>"Bring it up to me now," answered Nella. "There is time before supper.
+You can wait outside my room while I do it. My mistress is already gone
+downstairs."</p>
+
+<p>"You are an angel," observed the gondolier from below. "The only thing
+you need is a husband."</p>
+
+<p>"You have guessed wrong," answered Nella with a little laugh. "That is
+the only thing I do not need."</p>
+
+<p>She disappeared, and the gondolier went round by the back of the house
+to the side door, in order to go upstairs. In a quarter of an hour,
+while she stood in her doorway, and he in the passage without, he had
+told her all he knew of Giovanni's evil intentions against Zorzi,
+including the few words which the Governor had spoken audibly. The torn
+sleeve was an invention.</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni was visibly elated at supper, a circumstance which pleased his
+wife but inspired Marietta with some distrust. She had never felt any
+sympathy for the brother who was so much older than herself, and who
+took a view of things which seemed to her sordid, and she did not like
+to see him sitting in her father's place, often talking of the house as
+if it were already his, and dictating to her upon matters of conduct as
+well as upon questions of taste. Everything he said jarred on her, but
+as yet she had no idea that he had any plans against Zorzi, and being of
+a reserved character she often took no trouble to answer what he said,
+except to bend her head a little to acknowledge that he had said it.
+When she was alone with her father, she loved to sit with him after
+supper in the big room, working by the clear light of the olive oil
+lamp, while he sat in his great chair and talked to her of his work. He
+had told her far more than he realised of his secret processes as well
+as of his experiments, and she had remembered it, for she alone of his
+children had inherited his true love and understanding of the noble art
+of glass-making.</p>
+
+<p>But now that he was away, Giovanni generally spent the evening in
+instructing his wife how to save money, and she listened meekly enough
+to what he told her, for she was a modest little woman, of colourless
+character, brought up to have no great opinion of herself, though her
+father was a rich merchant; and she looked upon her husband as belonging
+to a superior class. Marietta found the conversation intolerable and
+she generally left the couple together a quarter of an hour after
+supper was over and went to her own room, where she worked a little and
+listened to Nella's prattle, and sometimes answered her. She was living
+in a state of half-suspended thought, and was glad to let the time pass
+as it would, provided it passed at all.</p>
+
+<p>This evening, as usual, she bade her brother and his wife good night,
+and went upstairs. Nella had learned to expect her and was waiting for
+her. To her surprise, Nella shut the window as soon as she entered.</p>
+
+<p>"Leave it open," she said. "It is hot this evening. Why did you shut it?
+You never do."</p>
+
+<p>"A window is an ear," answered Nella mysteriously. "The nights are still
+and voices carry far."</p>
+
+<p>"What great secret are you going to talk of?" inquired Marietta, with a
+careless smile, as she drew the long pins from her hair and let the
+heavy braids fall behind her.</p>
+
+<p>"Bad news, bad news!" Nella repeated. "The young master is doing things
+which he ought not to do, because they are very unjust and spiteful. I
+am only a poor serving-woman, but I would bite off my fingers, like
+this"&mdash;and she bit them sharply and shook them&mdash;"before I would let them
+do such things!"</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean, Nella?" asked Marietta. "You must not speak of my
+brother in that way."</p>
+
+<p>"Your brother! Eh, your brother!" cried Nella in a low and angry voice,
+quite unlike her own. "Do you know what your brother has done? He has
+been to Messer Jacopo Contarini, your betrothed husband, and he has
+told him that Zorzi is a liar, a thief and an assassin, and that he will
+have him arrested to-night, if he can, and Messer Jacopo promised that
+his father, who is of the Council, shall have Zorzi condemned! And your
+brother has seen the Governor of Murano in Venice, and has given him a
+great letter, and the Governor said that it should not be to-night, but
+to-morrow. That is the sort of man your brother is."</p>
+
+<p>Marietta was standing. She had turned slowly pale while Nella was
+speaking, and grasped the back of a chair with both hands. She thought
+she was going to faint.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2>
+
+
+<p>Marrietta's heart stood still, as she bent over the back of the chair
+holding it with both her hands, but feeling that she was falling. She
+had expected anything but this, when Nella had begun to speak. The blow
+was sudden and heavy, and she herself had never known how much she could
+be hurt, until that moment.</p>
+
+<p>Nella looked at her in astonishment. The serving-woman had changed her
+mind about Zorzi of late, and had grown fond of him in taking care of
+him. But her anger against Giovanni was roused rather because what he
+was about to do was an affront to his father, her master, than out of
+mere sympathy for the intended victim. She was far from understanding
+what could have so deeply moved Marietta.</p>
+
+<p>"You see," she said triumphantly, "what sort of a brother you have!"</p>
+
+<p>The sound of her voice recalled the young girl just when she felt that
+she was losing consciousness. Her first instinct was to go to Zorzi and
+warn him. He must escape at once. The Governor had said that it should
+be to-morrow, but he might change his mind and send his men to-night.
+There was no time to be lost, she must go instantly. As she stood
+upright she could see the porter's light shining through the small
+grated window, for Pasquale was still awake, but in a few minutes the
+light would go out. She had often been at her own window at that hour,
+and had watched it, wondering whether Zorzi would work far into the
+night, and whether he was thinking of her.</p>
+
+<p>It would be easy to slip out by the side door and run across. No one
+would know, except Nella and Pasquale, but she would have preferred that
+only the latter should be in the secret. She was still dressed, though
+her hair was undone, and the hood of a thin silk mantle would hide that.
+Her mind reasoned by instantaneous flashes now, and she had full control
+of herself again. She would tell Nella that she was going downstairs
+again for a little while, and she would also tell her to make an
+infusion of lime flowers and to bring it in half an hour and wait for
+her. Down the main staircase to the landing, down the narrow stairs in
+the dark, out into the street&mdash;it would not take long, and she would tap
+very softly at the door of the glass-house.</p>
+
+<p>When she said that she would go down again, Nella suspected nothing. On
+the contrary she thought her mistress was wise.</p>
+
+<p>"You will lead on the Signor Giovanni to talk of Zorzi," she said. "You
+will learn something."</p>
+
+<p>"And make me a drink of lime flowers," continued Marietta. "The
+housekeeper has plenty."</p>
+
+<p>"I know, I know," answered Nella. "Shall you come up again soon?"</p>
+
+<p>"Be here in half an hour with the drink, and wait for me. You had
+better go for the lime flowers before the housekeeper is asleep. I will
+twist my hair up again before I go down."</p>
+
+<p>Nella nodded and disappeared, for the housekeeper generally went to bed
+very early. As soon as she was out of the room Marietta took her silk
+cloak and wrapped herself in it, drawing the end over her head, so as to
+hide her hair and shade her face. She was pale still, but her lips were
+tightly closed and her eyelids a little drawn together, as she left the
+room. She met no one on the stairs. In the dark, when she reached the
+door, she could feel the oak bar that was set across it at night, and
+she slipped it back into its hole in the wall, without making much
+noise. She lifted the latch and went out.</p>
+
+<p>The night was still and clear, and the young moon was setting. If any
+one had been looking out she must have been seen as she crossed the
+wooden bridge, and she glanced nervously back at the open windows. There
+were lights in the big room, and she heard Giovanni's monotonous voice,
+as he talked to his wife. But there was shadow under the glass-house,
+and a moment later she was tapping softly at the door. Pasquale looked
+down from the grating, and was about to say something uncomplimentary
+when he recognised her, for he could see very well when there was little
+light, like most sailors. He opened the door at once, and stood aside to
+let Marietta enter.</p>
+
+<p>"Shut the door quickly," she whispered, "and do not open it for anybody,
+till I come out."</p>
+
+<p>Pasquale obeyed in silence. He knew as well as she did that Giovanni was
+sitting in the big room, with open windows, within easy hearing of
+ordinary sounds. A feeble light came through the open door of the
+porter's lodge.</p>
+
+<p>"Is Zorzi awake?" Marietta asked in a low tone, when both had gone a few
+steps down the corridor.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. He will sleep little to-night, for the boys have not come, and he
+must tend the fire himself."</p>
+
+<p>Marietta guessed that her brother had given the order, so that Zorzi
+might be left quite alone.</p>
+
+<p>"Pasquale," she said, "I can trust you, I am sure. You are a good friend
+to Zorzi."</p>
+
+<p>The porter growled something incoherent, but she understood what he
+meant.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she continued, "I trust you, and you must trust me. It is
+absolutely necessary that I should speak with Zorzi alone to-night. No
+one knows that I have left the house, and no one must know that I have
+been here."</p>
+
+<p>The old sailor had seen much in his day, but he was profoundly
+astonished at Marietta's audacity.</p>
+
+<p>"You are the mistress," he said in a grave and quiet voice that Marietta
+had never heard before. "But I am an old man, and I cannot help telling
+you that it is not seemly for a young girl to be alone at night with a
+young man, in the place where he lives. You will forgive me for saying
+so, because I have served your father a long time."</p>
+
+<p>"You are quite right," answered Marietta. "But in matters of life and
+death there is nothing seemly or unseemly. I have not time to explain
+all this. Zorzi is in great danger. For my father's sake I must warn
+him, and I cannot stay out long. Not even Nella must know that I am
+here. Be ready to let me out."</p>
+
+<p>She almost ran down the corridor to the garden. The moon was already too
+low to shine upon the walk, but the beams silvered the higher leaves of
+the plane-tree, and all was clear and distinct. Even in her haste, she
+glanced at the place where she had so often sat, before her life had
+began to change.</p>
+
+<p>There was a strong light in the laboratory and the window was open. She
+looked in and saw Zorzi sitting in the great chair, his head leaning
+back and his eyes closed. He was so pale and worn that, she felt a sharp
+pain as her eyes fell on his face. His crutch was beside him, and he
+seemed to be asleep. It was a pity to wake him, she thought, yet she
+could not lose time; she had lost too much already in talking with
+Pasquale.</p>
+
+<p>"Zorzi!" She called him softly.</p>
+
+<p>He started in his sleep, opened his eyes wide, and tried to spring up
+without his crutch, for he fancied himself in a dream. She had thrown
+back the drapery that covered her head and the bright light fell upon
+her face. It hurt her again to see how he staggered and put out his hand
+for his accustomed support.</p>
+
+<p>"I am coming in," she said quietly. "Do not move, unless the door is
+locked."</p>
+
+<p>She met him before he was half across the room. Instinctively she put
+out her hand to help him back to his chair. Then she understood that he
+did not need it, for he was much better now. She saw that he looked to
+the window, expecting to see Nella, and she smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"I am alone," she said. "You see how I trust you. Only Pasquale knows
+that I am here. You must sit down, and I will sit beside you, for I have
+much to say."</p>
+
+<p>He looked at her in silent wonder for a moment, happy beyond words to be
+with her, but very anxious as to the reasons which could have brought
+her to him at such an hour and quite alone. Her manner was so quiet and
+decided that it did not even occur to him to protest against her coming,
+and he sat down as she bade him, but on the bench, and she seated
+herself in the chair, turning in it so that she could see his face. They
+were near enough to speak in low tones.</p>
+
+<p>"My brother Giovanni hates you," she began. "He means to ruin you, if he
+can, before my father comes home."</p>
+
+<p>"I am not afraid of him," said Zorzi, speaking for the first time since
+she had entered. "Let him do his worst."</p>
+
+<p>"You do not know what his worst is," answered Marietta, "and he has got
+Messer Jacopo Contarini to help him. You are surprised? Yes. My
+betrothed husband has promised to speak with his father against you, at
+once. You know that he is of the Council."</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi's face expressed the utmost astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you quite sure that it is Jacopo Contarini?" he asked, as if unable
+to believe what she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it likely that I should be mistaken? My brother was with him this
+afternoon at the palace, our gondolier heard them talking on the stairs
+as they came down. He told Nella, and she has just told me. Giovanni
+heaped all sorts of abuse on you, and Messer Jacopo agreed with all he
+said. Then they spoke of arresting you and bringing you to justice, and
+they talked of the Council. After that Giovanni met the Governor of
+Murano and got into his gondola, and they talked in a low tone. My
+brother gave him a sealed document, and the Governor said that it should
+not be to-night, but to-morrow. That is all I know, but it is enough."</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi half closed his eyes for a moment, in deep thought; and in a flash
+he understood that Contarini wished him out of the way, and was taking
+the first means that offered to get rid of him. To keep faith with such
+a man would be as foolish as to expect any faithfulness from him. Zorzi
+opened his eyes again, and looked at the face of the woman he loved. His
+oath to the society had stood between him and her, and he knew that it
+was no longer binding on him, since Jacopo Contarini was helping to send
+him to destruction. Yet now that it was gone, he saw also that it had
+been the least of the obstacles that made up the barrier.</p>
+
+<p>"Of what do they accuse me?" he asked, after a moment's silence. "What
+can they prove against me?"</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot tell. It matters very little. Do you understand? To-morrow, if
+not to-night, the Governor's men will come here to arrest you, and if
+you have not escaped, you will be imprisoned and taken before the
+Council. They may accuse you of being involved in a conspiracy&mdash;they may
+torture you."</p>
+
+<p>She shivered at the thought, and looked into his dark eyes with fear and
+pity. His lip curled a little disdainfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think that I shall run away?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"You will not stay here, and let them arrest you!" cried Marietta
+anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>"Your father left me here to take care of what belongs to him, and there
+is much that is valuable. I thank you very much for warning me, but I
+know what your brother means to do, and I shall not go away of my own
+accord. If he can have me taken off by force, he will come here alone
+and search the place. If he searches long enough, he may find what he
+wants."</p>
+
+<p>"Is Paolo Godi's manuscript in this room?" asked Marietta quietly.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi stared at her in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"How did you know that your father left it with me?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"He would not have entrusted it to any one else. That is natural. My
+brother wants it. Is that the reason why you will not escape? Or is
+there any other?"</p>
+
+<p>"That is the principal reason," answered Zorzi. "Another is that there
+is valuable glass here, which your brother would take."</p>
+
+<p>"Which he would steal," said Marietta bitterly. "But Pasquale can bury
+it in the garden after you are gone. The principal thing is the book.
+Give it to me. I will take care of it till my father comes back. Until
+then you must hide somewhere, for it is madness to stay here. Give me
+the book, and let me take it away at once."</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot give it to you," Zorzi said, with a puzzled expression which
+Marietta did not understand.</p>
+
+<p>"You do not trust me," she answered sadly.</p>
+
+<p>He did not reply at once, for the words made no impression on him when
+he heard them. He trusted her altogether, but there was a material
+difficulty in the way. He remembered how long it had taken to hide the
+iron box under broken glass, and he knew how long it would take to get
+it out again. Marietta could not stay in the laboratory, late into the
+night, and yet if she did not take the box with her now, she might not
+be able to take it at all, since neither she nor Nella could have
+carried it to the house by day, without being seen.</p>
+
+<p>Marietta rested her elbow on the arm of the big chair, and her hand
+supported her chin, in an attitude of thought, as she looked steadily at
+Zorzi's face, and her own was grave and sad.</p>
+
+<p>"You never trusted me," she said presently. "Yet I have been a good
+friend to you, have I not?"</p>
+
+<p>"A friend? Oh, much more than that!" Zorzi turned his eyes from her. "I
+trust you with all my heart."</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head incredulously.</p>
+
+<p>"If you trusted me, you would do what I ask," she said. "I have risked
+something to help you&mdash;perhaps to save your life&mdash;who knows? Do you know
+what would happen if my brother found me here alone with you? I should
+end my life in a convent. But if you will not save yourself, I might as
+well not have come."</p>
+
+<p>"I would give you the book if I could," answered Zorzi. "But I cannot.
+It is hidden in such a way that it would take a long time to get it out.
+That is the simple truth. Your father and I had buried it here under the
+stones, but somehow your brother suspected that, and I have changed the
+hiding-place. It took a whole morning to do it."</p>
+
+<p>Still Marietta did not quite believe that he could not give it to her if
+he chose. It seemed as if there must always be a shadow between them,
+when they were together, always the beginning of a misunderstanding.</p>
+
+<p>"Where is it?" she asked, after a moment's hesitation. "If you are in
+earnest you will tell me."</p>
+
+<p>"It is better that you should know, in case anything happens to me,"
+answered Zorzi. "It is buried in that big jar, in some three feet of
+broken glass. I had to take the glass out bit by bit, and put it all
+back again."</p>
+
+<p>As Marietta looked at the jar, a little colour rose in her face again.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you," she said. "I know you trust me, now."</p>
+
+<p>"I always have," he answered softly, "and I always shall, even when you
+are married to Jacopo Contarini."</p>
+
+<p>"That is still far off. Let us not talk of it. You must get ready to
+leave this place before morning. You must take the skiff and get away to
+the mainland, if you can, for till my father comes you will not be safe
+in Venice."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall not go away," said Zorzi firmly. "They may not try to arrest me
+after all."</p>
+
+<p>"But they will, I know they will!" All her anxiety for him came back in
+a moment. "You must go at once! Zorzi, to please me&mdash;for my sake&mdash;leave
+to-night!"</p>
+
+<p>"For your sake? There is nothing I would not do for your sake, except be
+a coward."</p>
+
+<p>"But it is not cowardly!" pleaded Marietta. "There is nothing else to be
+done, and if my father could know what you risk by staying, he would
+tell you to go, as I do. Please, please, please&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot," he answered stubbornly.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Zorzi, if you have the least friendship for me, do what I ask! Do
+you not see that I am half mad with anxiety? I entreat you, I beg you, I
+implore you&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Their eyes met, and hers were wide with fear for him, and earnestness,
+and they were not quite dry.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you care so much?" asked Zorzi, hardly knowing what he said. "Does
+it matter so much to you what becomes of me?"</p>
+
+<p>He moved nearer on the bench. Leaning towards her, where he sat, he
+could rest his elbow on the broad arm of the low chair, and so look into
+her face. She covered her eyes, and shook a little, and her mantle
+slipped from her shoulders and trembled as it settled down into the
+chair. He leaned farther, till he was close to her, and he tried to
+uncover her eyes, very gently, but she resisted. His heart beat slowly
+and hard, like strokes of a hammer, and his hands were shaking, when he
+drew her nearer. Presently he himself sat upon the arm of the chair,
+holding her close to him, and she let him press her head to his breast,
+for she could not think any more; and all at once her hands slipped down
+and she was resting in the hollow of his arm, looking up to his face.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed a long time, as long as whole years, since she had meant to
+drop another rose in his path, or even since she had suffered him to
+press her hand for a moment. The whole tale was told now, in one touch,
+in one look, with little resistance and less fear.</p>
+
+<p>"I love you," he said slowly and earnestly, and the words were strange
+to his own ears.</p>
+
+<p>For he had never said them before, nor had she ever heard them, and when
+they are spoken in that way they are the most wonderful words in the
+world, both to speak and to hear.</p>
+
+<p>The look he had so rarely seen was there now, and there was no care to
+hide what was in her eyes, for she had told him all, without a word, as
+women can.</p>
+
+<p>"I have loved you very long," he said again, and with one hand he
+pressed back her hair and smoothed it.</p>
+
+<p>"I know it," she answered, gazing at him with lips just parted. "But I
+have loved you longer still."</p>
+
+<p>"How could I guess it?" he asked. "It seems so wonderful, so very
+strange!"</p>
+
+<p>"I could not say it first." She smiled. "And yet I tried to tell you
+without words."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you?"</p>
+
+<p>She nodded as her head lay in his arm, and closed her smiling lips
+tightly, and nodded again.</p>
+
+<p>"You would not understand," she said. "You always made it hard for me."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, if I had only known!"</p>
+
+<p>She lay quietly on his arm for a few seconds, and neither spoke. Only
+the low roar of the furnace was heard in the hot stillness. Marietta
+looked up steadily into his face, with unwinking eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"How you look at me!" he said, with a happy smile.</p>
+
+<p>"I have often wanted to look at you like this," she answered gravely.
+"But until you had told me, how could I?"</p>
+
+<p>He bent down rather timidly, but drawn to her by a power he could not
+resist. His first kiss touched her forehead lightly, with a sort of
+boyish reverence, while a thrill ran through every nerve and fibre of
+his body. But she turned in his arms and threw her own suddenly round
+his neck, and in an instant their lips met.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi was in a dream, where Marietta alone was real. All thought and
+recollection of danger vanished, the very room was not the laboratory
+where he had so long lived and worked, and thought and suffered. The
+walls were gold, the stone pavement was a silken carpet, the shadowy
+smoke-stained beams were the carved ceiling of a palace, he was himself
+the king and master of the whole world, and he held all his kingdom in
+his arms.</p>
+
+<p>"You understand now," Marietta said at last, holding his face before her
+with her hands.</p>
+
+<p>"No," he answered lovingly. "I do not understand, I will not even try.
+If I do, I shall open my eyes, and it will suddenly be daylight, and I
+shall put out my hands and find nothing! I shall be alone, in my room,
+just awake and aching with a horrible longing for the impossible. You do
+not know what it is to dream of you, and wake in the grey dawn! You
+cannot guess what the emptiness is, the loneliness!"</p>
+
+<p>"I know it well," said Marietta. "I have been perfectly happy, talking
+to you under the plane-tree, your hand in mine, and mine in yours, our
+eyes in each other's eyes, our hearts one heart! And then, all at once,
+there was Nella, standing at the foot of my bed with a big dish in her
+hands, laughing at me because I had been sleeping so soundly! Oh,
+sometimes I could kill her for waking me!"</p>
+
+<p>She drew his face to hers, with a little laugh that broke off short. For
+a kiss is a grave matter.</p>
+
+<p>"How much time we have wasted in all these months!" she said presently.
+"Why would you never understand?"</p>
+
+<p>"How could I guess that you could ever love me?" Zorzi asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I guessed that you loved me," objected Marietta. "At least," she added,
+correcting herself, "I was quite sure of it for a little while. Then I
+did not believe it all. If I had believed it quite, they should never
+have betrothed me to Jacopo Contarini!"</p>
+
+<p>The name recalled all realities to Zorzi, though she spoke it very
+carelessly, almost with scorn. Zorzi sighed and looked up at last, and
+stared at the wall opposite.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" asked Marietta quickly. "Why do you sigh?"</p>
+
+<p>"There is reason enough. Are you not betrothed to him, as you say?"</p>
+
+<p>Marietta straightened herself suddenly, and made him look at her. A
+quick light was in her eyes, as she spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know what you are saying? Do you think that if I meant to marry
+Messer Jacopo, I should be here now, that I should let you hold me in
+your arms, that I would kiss you? Do you really believe that?"</p>
+
+<p>"I could not believe it," Zorzi answered. "And yet&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"And yet you almost do!" she cried. "What more do you need, to know that
+I love you, with all my heart and soul and will, and that I mean to be
+your wife, come what may?"</p>
+
+<p>"How is it possible?" asked Zorzi almost disconsolately. "How could you
+ever marry me? What am I, after all, compared with you? I am not even a
+Venetian! I am a stranger, a waif, a man with neither name nor fortune!
+And I am half a cripple, lame for life! How can you marry me? At the
+first word of such a thing your father will join his son against me, I
+shall be thrown into prison on some false charge and shall never come
+out again, unless it be to be hanged for some crime I never committed."</p>
+
+<p>"There is a very simple way of preventing all those dreadful things,"
+answered Marietta.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish I could find it."</p>
+
+<p>"Take me with you," she said calmly.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi looked at her in dumb surprise, for she could not have said
+anything which he had expected less.</p>
+
+<p>"Listen to me," she continued. "You cannot stay here&mdash;or rather, you
+shall not, for I will not let you. No, you need not smile and shake your
+head, for I will find some means of making you go."</p>
+
+<p>"You will find that hard, dear love, for that is the only thing I will
+not do for you."</p>
+
+<p>"Is it? We shall see. You are very brave, and you are very, very
+obstinate, but you are not very sensible, for you are only a man, after
+all. In the first place, do you imagine that even if Giovanni were to
+spend a whole week in this room, he would think of looking for the box
+amongst the broken glass?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I do not think he would," answered Zorzi. "That was sensible of me,
+at all events." She laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you are clever enough! I never said that you were not that. I only
+said that you had no sense. As for instance, since you are sure that my
+brother cannot find the box, why do you wish to stay here?"</p>
+
+<p>"I promised your father that I would. I will keep my promise, at all
+costs."</p>
+
+<p>"In which of two ways shall you be of more use to my father? If you hide
+in a safe place till he comes home, and if you then come back to him and
+help him as before? Or if you allow yourself to be thrown into prison,
+and tried, and perhaps hanged or banished, for something you never did?
+And if any harm comes to you, what do you think would become of me? Do
+you see? I told you that you had no common sense. Now you will believe
+me. But if all this is not enough to make you go, I have another plan,
+which you cannot possibly oppose."</p>
+
+<p>"What is that?" asked Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>"I will go alone. I will cross the bridge, and take the skiff, and row
+myself over to Venice and from Venice I will get to the mainland."</p>
+
+<p>"You could not row the skiff," objected Zorzi, amused at the idea. "You
+would fall off, or upset her."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I should drown," returned Marietta philosophically. "And you would
+be sorry, whether you thought it was your fault or not. Is that true?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well. If you will not promise me faithfully to escape to the
+mainland to-night, I swear to you by all that you and I believe in, and
+most of all by our love for each other, that I will do what I said, and
+run away from my father's house, to-night. But you will not let me go
+alone, will you?"</p>
+
+<p>"No!"</p>
+
+<p>"There! You see! Of course you would not let me go alone, me, a poor
+weak girl, who have never taken a step alone in my life, until to-night!
+And they say that the world is so wicked! What would become of me if you
+let me go away alone?"</p>
+
+<p>"If I thought you meant to do that!"</p>
+
+<p>He laughed again, and drew her to him, and would have kissed her; but
+she held him back and looked at him earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>"I mean it," she said. "That is what I will do. I swear that I will.
+Yes&mdash;now you may."</p>
+
+<p>And she kissed him of her own accord, but quickly withdrew herself from
+his arms again.</p>
+
+<p>"You have your choice," she said, "and you must choose quickly, for I
+have been here too long&mdash;it must be nearly half an hour since I left my
+room, and Nella is waiting for me, thinking that I am with my brother
+and his wife. Promise me to do what I ask, and I will go back, and when
+my father comes home I will tell him the whole troth. That is the wisest
+thing, after all. Or, I will go with you, if you will take me as I am."</p>
+
+<p>"No," he answered, with an effort. "I will not take you with me."</p>
+
+<p>It cost him a hard struggle to refuse. There she was, resting against
+his arm, in the blush and wealth of unspent love, asking to go with him,
+who loved her better than his life. But in a quick vision he saw her
+with him, she who was delicately nurtured and used from childhood to all
+that care and money could give, he saw her with him, sharing his misery,
+his hunger and his wandering, suffering silently for love's sake, but
+suffering much, and he could not bear the fancied sight.</p>
+
+<p>"I should be in your way," she said. "Besides, they would send all over
+Italy to find me."</p>
+
+<p>"It is not that," he answered. "You might starve."</p>
+
+<p>She looked up anxiously to his face.</p>
+
+<p>"And you?" she asked. "Have you no money?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. How should I have money? I believe I have one piece of gold and a
+little silver. It will be enough to keep me from starvation till I can
+get work somewhere. I can live on bread and water, as I have many a
+time."</p>
+
+<p>"If I had only thought!" exclaimed Marietta. "I have so much! My father
+left me a little purse of gold that I shall never need."</p>
+
+<p>"I would not take your father's money," answered Zorzi. "But have no
+fear. If I go at all, I shall do well enough. Besides, there is a man in
+Venice&mdash;" He stopped short, not wishing to speak of Zuan Venier.</p>
+
+<p>"You must not make any condition," she answered, not heeding the
+unfinished sentence. "You must go at once."</p>
+
+<p>She rose as she spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"Every minute I stay here makes it more dangerous for me to go back,"
+she said. "I know that you will keep your promise. We must say
+good-bye."</p>
+
+<p>He had risen, too, and stood facing her, his crutch under his arm. In
+all her anxiety for his safety she had half forgotten that his wound was
+barely healed, and that he still walked with great difficulty. And now,
+at the thought of leaving him she forgot everything else. They had been
+so cruelly short, those few minutes of perfect happiness between the
+long misunderstanding that had kept them apart and the parting again
+that was to separate them, perhaps for months. As they looked at each
+other, they both grew pale, and in an instant Zorzi's young face looked
+haggard and his eyes seemed to grow hollow, while Marietta's filled with
+tears.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-bye!" she cried in a broken voice. "God keep you, my dear love!"</p>
+
+<p>Then her face was buried in the hollow of his shoulder and her tears
+flowed fast and burning hot.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2>
+
+
+<p>It was over at last, and Zorzi stood alone by the table, for Marietta
+would not let him go with her to the door. She could not trust herself
+before Pasquale, even in the gloom. He stood by the table, leaning on it
+heavily with one hand, and trying to realise all that had come into his
+lonely life within the half hour, and all that might happen to him
+before morning. The glorious and triumphant certainty which first love
+brings to every man when it is first returned, still swelled his heart
+and filled the air he breathed, so that while breathing deep, he could
+not breathe enough. In such a mood all dangers dwindled, all obstacles
+sank out of sight as shadows sink at dawn. And yet the parting had hurt
+him, as if his body had been wrenched in the middle by some resistless
+force.</p>
+
+<p>Women feel parting differently. Shall we men ever understand them? To a
+man, first love is a victory, to a girl it is a sweet wonder, and a joy,
+and a tender longing, all in one. And when partings come, as come they
+must in life until death brings the last, it is always the man who
+leaves, and the woman who is left, even though in plain fact it be the
+man that stays behind; and we men feel a little contemptuous pity for
+one who seems to cry out after the woman he loves, asking why she has
+left him, and beseeching her to come back to him, but our compassion for
+the woman in like case is always sincere. In such small things there are
+the great mysteries of that prime difference, which neither man nor
+woman can ever fully understand, but which, if not understood a little,
+is the cause of much miserable misunderstanding in life.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi had to face the future at once, for it was upon him, and the old
+life was over, perhaps never to come again. He stood still, where he
+was, for any useless movement was an effort, and he tried to collect his
+thoughts and determine just what he should do, and how it was to be
+done. His eye fell on the piece of gold Giovanni had paid for the
+beaker. In the morning, if he drew the iron tray further down the
+annealing oven, the glass would be ready to be taken out, and Giovanni
+could take it if he pleased, for he knew whose it was. But starvation
+itself could not have induced Zorzi to take the money now. He turned
+from it with contempt. All he needed was enough to buy bread for a week,
+and mere bread cost little. That little he had, and it must suffice.
+Besides that he would make a bundle small enough to be easily carried.
+His chief difficulty would be in rowing the skiff. To use the single oar
+at all it was almost indispensable to stand, and to stand chiefly on the
+right foot, since the single rowlock, as in every Venetian boat, was on
+the starboard side and could not be shifted to port. He fancied that in
+some way he could manage to sit on the thwart, and use the oar as a
+paddle. In any case he must get away, since flight was the wisest
+course, and since he had promised Marietta that he would go. His
+reflections had occupied scarce half a minute.</p>
+
+<p>He began to walk towards the small room where he slept, and where he
+kept his few possessions. He had taken two steps from the table, when he
+stopped short, turned round and listened.</p>
+
+<p>He heard the sound of light footsteps, running along the path and coming
+nearer. In another moment Marietta was at the window, her face deadly
+white, her eyes wide with fear.</p>
+
+<p>"They are there!" she cried wildly. "They have come to-night! Hide
+yourself quickly! Pasquale will keep them out as long as he can."</p>
+
+<p>She had found Pasquale stoutly refusing to open the door. Outside stood
+a lieutenant of the archers with half-a-dozen men, demanding admittance
+in the name of the Governor. Pasquale answered that they might get in by
+force if they could, but that he had no orders to open the door to them.
+The lieutenant was in doubt whether his warrant authorised him to break
+in or not.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi knew that Marietta was in even more danger than he. The situation
+was desperate and the time short. She was still at the window, looking
+in.</p>
+
+<p>"You know your way to the main furnace rooms," Zorzi said quickly, but
+with great coolness. "Run in there, and stand still in the dark till
+everything is quiet. Then slip out and get home as quickly as
+possible."</p>
+
+<p>"But you? What will become of you?" asked Marietta in an agony of
+anxiety.</p>
+
+<p>"If they do not take me at once, they will search all the buildings and
+will find you," answered Zorzi. "I will go and meet them, while you are
+hiding."</p>
+
+<p>He opened the door beside the window and put his crutch forward upon the
+path. At the same moment the sound of a tremendous blow echoed down the
+dark corridor. The moon was low but had not set and there was still
+light in the garden.</p>
+
+<p>"Quickly!" Zorzi exclaimed. "They are breaking down the door."</p>
+
+<p>But Marietta clung to him almost savagely, when he tried to push her in
+the direction of the main furnace rooms on the other side of the garden.</p>
+
+<p>"I will not leave you," she cried. "They shall take me with you,
+wherever you are going!"</p>
+
+<p>She grasped his hand with both her hands, and then, as he moved, she
+slipped her arm round him. At the street door the pounding blows
+succeeded each other in quick succession, but apparently without effect.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi saw that he must make her understand her extreme danger. He took
+hold of her wrist with a quiet strength that recalled her to herself,
+and there was a tone of command in his voice when he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"Go at once," he said. "It will be worse for both of us if you are found
+here. They will hang me for stealing the master's daughter as well as
+his secrets. Go, dear love, go! Good-bye!"</p>
+
+<p>He kissed her once, and then gently pushed her from him. She understood
+that she must obey, and that if he spoke of his own danger it was for
+the sake of her good name. With a gesture of despair she turned and left
+him, crossed the patch of light without looking back, and disappeared
+into the shadows beyond. She was safe now, for he would go and meet the
+archers, opening the door to give himself up. Using his crutch he swung
+himself along into the dark corridor without another moment's
+hesitation.</p>
+
+<p>But matters did not turn out as he expected. When the force came down
+the footway from the dilution of San Piero, Giovanni was still talking
+to his wife about household economies and censuring what he called the
+reckless extravagance of his father's housekeeping. As he talked, he
+heard the even tread of a number of marching men. He sprang to his feet
+and went to the window, for he guessed who was coming, though he could
+not imagine why the Governor had not waited till the next day, as had
+been agreed. He could not know that on leaving him Jacopo Contarini had
+seen his father and had told him of Zorzi's misdeeds; and that the
+Governor had supped with old Contarini, who was an uncompromising
+champion of the law, besides being one of the Ten and therefore the
+Governor's superior in office; and that Contarini had advised that Zorzi
+should be taken on that same night, as he might be warned of his danger
+and find means to escape. Moreover, Contarini offered a trusty and swift
+oarsman to take the order to Murano, and the Governor wrote it on the
+supper table, between two draughts of Greek wine, which he drank from a
+goblet made by Angelo Beroviero himself in the days when he still worked
+at the art.</p>
+
+<p>In half an hour the warrant was in the hands of the officer, who
+immediately called out half-a-dozen of his men and marched them down to
+the glass-house.</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni saw them stop and knock at the door, and he heard Pasquale's
+gruff inquiry.</p>
+
+<p>"In the Governor's name, open at once!" said the officer.</p>
+
+<p>"Any one can say that," answered the porter. "In the devil's name go
+home and go to bed! Is this carnival time, to go masquerading by the
+light of the moon and waking up honest people?"</p>
+
+<p>"Silence!" roared the lieutenant. "Open the door, or it will be the
+worse for you."</p>
+
+<p>"It will be the worse for you, if the Signor Giovanni hears this
+disturbance," answered Pasquale, who could see Giovanni at the window
+opposite in the moonlight. "Either get orders from him, or go home and
+leave me in holy peace, you band of braying jackasses, you mob of
+blobber-lipped Barbary apes, you pack of doltish, droiling, doddered
+joltheads! Be off!"</p>
+
+<p>This eloquence, combined with Pasquale's assured manner, caused the
+lieutenant to hesitate before breaking down the door, an operation for
+which he had not been prepared, and for which he had brought no engines
+of battery.</p>
+
+<p>"Can you get in?" he inquired of his men, without deigning to answer the
+porter's invectives. "If not, let one of you go for a sledge hammer.
+Try it with the butts of your halberds against the lock, one, two, three
+and all at once."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, break down the door!" cried Pasquale derisively. "It is of oak and
+iron, and it cost good money, and you shall pay for it, you lubberly
+ours."</p>
+
+<p>But the men pounded away with a good will.</p>
+
+<p>"Open the door!" cried Giovanni from the opposite window, at the top of
+his lungs.</p>
+
+<p>The sight of the destruction of property for which he might have to
+account to his father was very painful to him. But he could not make
+himself heard in the terrific din, or else Pasquale suspected the truth
+and pretended that he could not hear. The porter had seen Marietta a
+moment in the gloom, and he knew that she had gone back to warn Zorzi.
+He hoped to give them both time to hide themselves, and he now retired
+from the grating and began to strengthen the door, first by putting two
+more heavy oak bars in their places across it near the top and bottom,
+and further by bringing the scanty furniture from his lodge and piling
+it up against the panels.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile the pounding continued at a great rate, and Giovanni thought
+it better to go down and interfere in person, since he could not make
+himself heard. The servants were all roused by this time, and many heads
+were looking out of upper windows, not only from Beroviero's house, but
+from the houses higher up, beyond the wooden bridge. Two men who were
+walking up the footway from the opposite direction stopped at a little
+distance and looked on, their hoods drawn over their eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni came out hurriedly and crossed the bridge. He laid his hand on
+the lieutenant's shoulder anxiously and spoke close to his ear, for the
+pounding was deafening. The six men had strapped their halberds firmly
+together in a solid bundle with their belts, and standing three on each
+side they swung the whole mass of wood and iron like a battering ram, in
+regular time.</p>
+
+<p>"Stop them, sir! Stop them, pray!" cried Giovanni. "I will have the door
+opened for you."</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly there was silence as the officer caught one of his men by the
+arm and bade them all wait.</p>
+
+<p>"Who are you, sir?" he inquired.</p>
+
+<p>"I am Giovanni Beroviero," answered Giovanni, sure that his name would
+inspire respect.</p>
+
+<p>The officer took off his cap politely and then replaced it. The two men
+who were looking on nudged each other.</p>
+
+<p>"I have a warrant to arrest a certain Zorzi," began the lieutenant.</p>
+
+<p>"I know! It is quite right, and he is within," answered Giovanni.
+"Pasquale!" he called, standing on tiptoe under the grating. "Pasquale!
+Open the door at once for these gentlemen."</p>
+
+<p>"Gentlemen!" echoed one of the men softly, with a low laugh and digging
+his elbow into his companion's side.</p>
+
+<p>No one else spoke for a moment. Then Pasquale looked through the
+grating.</p>
+
+<p>"What did you say?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I said open the door at once!" answered Giovanni. "Can you not
+recognise the officers of the law when you see them?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," grunted Pasquale, "I have never seen much of them. Did you say I
+was to open the door?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes!" cried Giovanni angrily, for he wished to show his zeal before the
+officer. "Blockhead!" he added with emphasis, as Pasquale disappeared
+again and was presumably out of hearing.</p>
+
+<p>They all heard him dragging the furniture away again, the box-bed and
+the table and the old chair.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi came up as Pasquale was clearing the stuff away.</p>
+
+<p>"They want you," said the old sailor, seeing him and hearing him at the
+same time. "What have you been doing now? Where is the young lady?"</p>
+
+<p>"In the main furnace room," whispered Zorzi. "Do not let them go there
+whatever they do."</p>
+
+<p>Pasquale gave vent to his feelings in a low voice, as he dragged the
+last things back and began to unbar the door. Zorzi leaned against the
+wall, for his lameness prevented him from helping. At last the door was
+opened, and he saw the figures of the men outside against the light. He
+went forward as quickly as he could, pushing past Pasquale to get out.
+He stood on the threshold, leaning on his crutch.</p>
+
+<p>"I am Zorzi," he said quietly.</p>
+
+<p>"Zorzi the Dalmatian, called the Ballarin?" asked the lieutenant.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes!" cried Giovanni, anxious to hasten matters, "They call him
+the dancer because he is lame. This is that foreign liar, that thief,
+that assassin! Take him quickly!"</p>
+
+<p>The archers, who in the changes of time had become halberdiers, had
+dropped the bundle of spears they had made for a battering-ram. Two of
+them took Zorzi by the arms roughly, and prepared to drag him along with
+them. He made no resistance, but objected quietly.</p>
+
+<p>"I can walk better, if you do not hold me," he said. "I cannot run away,
+as you see."</p>
+
+<p>"Let him walk between you," ordered the officer. "Good night, sir," he
+said to Giovanni.</p>
+
+<p>Two of the men lifted the bundle of halberds and began to carry it
+between them, trying to undo the straps as they walked, for they could
+not stay behind. Giovanni saluted the officer and stood aside for the
+party to pass. The two men who had looked on had separated, and one had
+already gone forward and disappeared beyond the bridge. The other
+lingered, apparently still interested in the proceedings. Pasquale, dumb
+with rage at last, stood in the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me pass," said Giovanni, as soon as the archers had gone on a few
+steps, surrounding Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>With a growl, Pasquale came out and stood on the pavement a moment, and
+Giovanni went in. Instantly, the man who had lingered made a step
+towards the porter, whispered something in his ear, and then made off as
+fast as he could in the direction taken by the archers. Pasquale looked
+after him in surprise, only half understanding the meaning of what he
+had said. Then he went in, but left the door ajar. The people who had
+been looking out of the windows of Beroviero's house had disappeared,
+when they had seen that Giovanni was on the footway. All was silent now;
+only, far off, the tramp of the archers could still be heard.</p>
+
+<p>They could not go very fast, with Zorzi in their midst, but the two men
+who were busy unfastening the bundle of halberds lagged in the rear,
+talking in a low voice. They did not notice quick footsteps behind them,
+but they heard a low whistle, answered instantly by another, just as the
+main party was nearing the corner by the church of San Piero. That was
+the last the two loiterers remembered, for at the next instant they lay
+in a heap upon the halberds, which had fallen upon the pavement with a
+tremendous clatter. A couple of well-delivered blows with a stout stick
+had thoroughly stunned them almost at the same instant. It would be some
+time before they recovered their senses.</p>
+
+<p>While the man who had whispered to Pasquale was doing effectual work in
+the rear, his companion was boldly attacking the main party in front. As
+the lieutenant stopped short and turned his head when the halberds
+dropped, a blow under the jaw from a fist like a sledge hammer almost
+lifted him off his feet and sent him reeling till he fell senseless,
+half-a-dozen paces away. Before the two archers who were guarding Zorzi
+could defend themselves, unarmed as they were, another blow had felled
+one of them. The second, springing forward, was caught up like a child
+by his terrible assailant and whirled through the air, to fall with a
+noisy splash into the shallow waters of the canal. The other companion
+attacked the remaining two from behind with his club and knocked one of
+them down. The last sprang to one side and ran on a few steps as fast as
+he could. But swifter feet followed him, and in an instant iron fingers
+were clutching his throat and squeezing his breath out. He struggled a
+moment, and then sank down. His captor deliberately knocked him on the
+head with his fist, and he rolled over like a stone.</p>
+
+<p>Utterly bewildered, Zorzi stood still, where he had stopped. Never in
+his life had he dreamed that two men could dispose of seven, in
+something like half a minute, with nothing but a stick for a weapon
+between them. But he had seen it with his eyes, and he was not surprised
+when he felt himself lifted from his feet, with his crutch beside him,
+and carried along the footway at a sharp run, in the direction of the
+glass-house. His reason told him that he had been rescued and was being
+quickly conveyed to a place of safety, but he could not help distrusting
+the means that accomplished the end, for he had unconsciously watched
+the two men in what could hardly be called a fight, though he could not
+see their faces, and a more murderous pair of ruffians he had never
+seen. Men not well used to such deeds could not have done them at all,
+thought Zorzi, as he was borne along, his breath almost shaken out of
+him by the strong man's movements.</p>
+
+<p>All was quiet, as they passed the glass-house, and no one was looking
+out, for Giovanni's wife feared him far too much to seem to be spying
+upon his doings, and the servants were discreet. Only Nella, hiding
+behind the flowers in Marietta's window, and supposing that Marietta was
+with her sister-in-law, was watching the door of the glass-house to see
+when Giovanni would come out. She now heard the steps of the two men,
+running down the footway. The rescue had taken place too far away for
+her to hear anything but a splash in the canal. She saw that one of the
+men was carrying what seemed to be the body of a man. She instinctively
+crossed herself, as they ran on towards the end of the canal, and when
+she could see them no longer in the shadow, she drew back into the room,
+momentarily forgetting Giovanni, and already running over in her head
+the wonderful conversation she was going to have with her mistress as
+soon as the young girl came back to her room.</p>
+
+<p>Pasquale, meanwhile, withdrew his feet from the old leathern slippers he
+wore, and noiselessly stole down the corridor and along the garden path,
+to find out what Giovanni was doing. When he came to the laboratory, he
+saw that the window was now shut, as well as the door, and that Giovanni
+had set the lamp on the floor behind the further end of the annealing
+oven. Its bright light shot upwards to the dark ceiling, leaving the
+front of the laboratory almost in the dark. Pasquale listened and he
+heard the sharp tapping of a hammer on stone. He understood at once that
+Giovanni had shut himself in to search for something, and would
+therefore be busy some time.</p>
+
+<p>Without noise he crossed the garden to the entrance of the main furnace
+room and went into the passage.</p>
+
+<p>"Come out quickly!" he whispered, as his seaman's eyes made out
+Marietta's figure in a gloom that would have been total darkness to a
+landsman; and he took hold of the girl's arm to lead her away.</p>
+
+<p>"Your brother is in the laboratory, and will not come out," he
+whispered. "By this time Zorzi may be safe."</p>
+
+<p>"Safe!" She spoke the word aloud, in her relief.</p>
+
+<p>"Hush, for heaven's sake. The door is open. You can get home now without
+being seen. Make no noise."</p>
+
+<p>She followed him quickly. They had to cross the patch of dim light in
+the garden, and she glanced at the closed window of the laboratory. It
+had all happened as Zorzi had foreseen, and Giovanni was already
+searching for the manuscript. The only thing she could not understand
+was that Zorzi should have escaped the archers. Even as she crossed the
+garden, the two man were passing the door, bearing Zorzi he knew not
+where, but away from the nearest danger. A moment later she was on the
+footway, hurrying towards the bridge. Pasquale stood watching her, to be
+sure that she was safe, and he glanced up at the windows, too, fearing
+lest some one might still be looking out.</p>
+
+<p>But chance had saved Marietta this time. She carefully barred the side
+door after she had gone in, and groped her way up the dark stairs. On
+the landing there was light from below, and she paused for breath, her
+bosom heaving as she leaned a moment on the balustrade. She passed one
+hand over her brows, as if to bring herself back to present
+consciousness, and then went quickly on.</p>
+
+<p>"Safe," she repeated under her breath as she went, "safe, safe, safe!"</p>
+
+<p>It was to give herself courage, for she could hardly believe it, though
+she knew that Pasquale would not deceive her and must have some strong
+good reason for what he said. There had not been time to question him.</p>
+
+<p>All he knew himself was that a man whose face he could not see had
+whispered to him that Zorzi was in no danger. But he had recognised the
+other man who had gone up the footway first, in spite of his short cloak
+and hood, and he felt well assured that Charalambos Aristarchi could
+throw the officer and his six men into the canal without anybody's help,
+if he chose, though why the Greek ruffian was suddenly inspired to
+interfere on Zorzi's behalf was a mystery past his comprehension.</p>
+
+<p>Marietta entered her room, and Nella, who had been revelling in the
+coming conversation, was suddenly very busy, stirring the drink of lime
+flowers which Marietta had ordered. She was so sure that her mistress
+had been all the time in the house, and so anxious not to have it
+thought that she could possibly have been idle, even for a moment, that
+she looked intently into the cup and stirred the contents in a most
+conscientious manner. Marietta turned from her almost immediately and
+began to undo the braids of hair, that Nella might comb it out and plait
+it again for the night. Nella immediately began to talk, and to tell all
+that she had seen from the window, with many other things which she had
+not seen.</p>
+
+<p>"But of course you were looking out, too," she said presently. "They
+were all at the windows for some time."</p>
+
+<p>"No," Marietta answered. "I was not looking out."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it was to-night, and not to-morrow, you see. Do you think the
+Governor is stupid? If he had waited till to-morrow, we should have told
+Zorzi. Poor Zorzi! I saw them taking him away, loaded with chains."</p>
+
+<p>"In chains!" cried Marietta, starting painfully.</p>
+
+<p>"I could not see the chains," continued Nella apologetically, "but I am
+sure they were there. It was too dark to see. Poor Zorzi! Poor Zorzi! By
+this time he is in the prison under the Governor's house, and he wishes
+that he had never been born. A little straw, a little water! That is all
+he has."</p>
+
+<p>Marietta moved in her chair, as if something hurt her, but she knew that
+it would be unwise to stop the woman's talk. Besides, Nella was
+evidently sorry for Zorzi, though she thought his arrest very
+interesting. She went on for a long time, combing more and more slowly,
+after the manner of talkative maids, when they fear that their work may
+be finished before their story. But for Pasquale's reassuring words,
+Marietta felt that she must have gone mad. Zorzi was safe, somewhere,
+and he was not in the Governor's prison, on the straw. She told herself
+so again and again as Nella went on.</p>
+
+<p>"There is one thing I did not tell you," said the latter, with a sudden
+increase of vigour at the thought.</p>
+
+<p>"I think you have told me enough, Nella," said Marietta wearily. "I am
+very tired."</p>
+
+<p>"You cannot go to bed till I have plaited your hair," answered Nella
+mercilessly, but at the same time laying down the comb. "Just before you
+came in, I was looking out of the window. It was just an accident, for I
+was very busy with your things, of course. Well, as I was saying, in
+passing I happened to glance out of the window, and I saw&mdash;guess what I
+saw, my pretty lady!"</p>
+
+<p>Marietta trembled, thinking that Nella had seen her, and perhaps
+recognised her, and was about to bring her garrulous tale to a dramatic
+climax by telling her so.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps you saw a woman," she suggested desperately.</p>
+
+<p>"A woman indeed!" cried Nella. "That must be a nice woman who would be
+seen in the street at such a time of night, and the Governor's archers
+there, too! Woman? I would not look at such a woman, I tell you! No.
+What I saw was this, since you cannot guess. There came two big men,
+running fast, and they were carrying a dead body between them! Eh! They
+were at no good, I tell you. One could see that."</p>
+
+<p>Marietta could bear no more, now. She bent her head and bit her finger
+to keep herself from crying out.</p>
+
+<p>"If you will not be still, how in the world am I to plait your hair?"
+asked Nella querulously.</p>
+
+<p>"Do it quickly, please," Marietta succeeded in saying. "I am so very
+tired to-night."</p>
+
+<p>Her head bent still further forward.</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed," said Nella, much annoyed that her tale should not have been
+received with more interest, "you seem to be half asleep already."</p>
+
+<p>But Nella was much too truly attached to her mistress not to feel some
+anxiety when she saw her white face and noticed how uncertainly she
+walked. Nella had her in bed at last, however, and gave her more of the
+soothing drink, smoothed the cool pillow under her head, looked round
+the room to see that all was in order before going away, then took the
+lamp and at last went out.</p>
+
+<p>"Good night, my pretty lady," said Nella cheerfully from the door, "good
+rest and pleasant dreams!"</p>
+
+<p>She was gone at last, and she would not come back before morning.</p>
+
+<p>Marietta sat up in bed in the dark and pressed her hands to her temples
+in utter despair.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall go mad! I shall go mad!" she whispered to herself.</p>
+
+<p>She remembered that she had left her light silk mantle in the
+laboratory, on the great chair.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2>
+
+
+<p>Aristarchi's interference to rescue Zorzi had not been disinterested,
+and so far as justice was concerned he was quite ready to believe that
+the Dalmatian had done all the things of which he was accused. The fact
+was not of the slightest importance in the situation. It was much more
+to the point that in the complicated and dangerous plan which the Greek
+captain and Arisa were carrying out, Zorzi could be of use to them,
+without his own knowledge. As has been told, the two had decided that he
+was in love with Marietta, and she with him. The rest followed
+naturally.</p>
+
+<p>After meeting his father and telling him Giovanni's story, Jacopo
+Contarini had gone to the house of the Agnus Dei for an hour, and during
+that time he had told Arisa everything, according to his wont. No sooner
+was he gone than Arisa made the accustomed signal and Aristarchi
+appeared at her window, for it was then already night. He judged rightly
+that there was no time to be lost, and having stopped at his house to
+take his trusted man, the two rowed themselves over to Murano, and were
+watching the glass-house from, a distance, fully half an hour before the
+archers appeared.</p>
+
+<p>The officer and his men came to their senses, one by one, bruised and
+terrified. The man who had been thrown into the shallow canal got upon
+his feet, standing up to his waist in the water, sputtering and coughing
+from the ducking. Before he tried to gain the shore, he crossed himself
+three times and repeated all the prayers he could remember, in a great
+hurry, for he was of opinion that Satan must still be in the
+neighbourhood. It was not possible that any earthly being should have
+picked him up like a puppy and flung him fully ten feet from the spot
+where he had been standing. He struggled to the bank, his feet sinking
+at each step in the slimy bottom; and after that he was forced to wade
+some thirty yards to the stairs in front of San Piero before he could
+get out of the water, a miserable object, drenched from head to foot and
+coated with black mud from his knees down. Yet he was in a better case
+than his companions.</p>
+
+<p>They came to themselves slowly, the officer last of all, for
+Aristarchi's blow under the jaw had nearly killed him, whereas the other
+five men had only received stunning blows on different parts of their
+thick skulls. In half an hour they were all on their feet, though some
+of them were very unsteady, and in a forlorn train they made the best of
+their way back to the Governor's palace. Their discomfiture had been so
+sudden and complete that none of them had any idea as to the number of
+their assailants; but most of them agreed that as they came within sight
+of the church, Zorzi had slackened his pace, and that an unholy fire
+had issued from his eyes, his mouth and his nostrils, while he made
+strange signs in the air with his crutch, and suddenly grew to a
+gigantic stature. The devils who were his companions had immediately
+appeared in great numbers, and though the archers had fought against
+their supernatural adversaries with the courage of heroes, they had been
+struck down senseless where they stood; and when they had recovered
+their sight and their other understanding, Zorzi had long since vanished
+to the kingdom of darkness which was his natural abode.</p>
+
+<p>Those things the officer told the Governor on the next day, and the men
+solemnly swore to them, and they were all written down by the official
+scribe. But the Governor raised one eyebrow a little, and the corners of
+his mouth twitched strangely, though he made no remark upon what had
+been said. He remembered, however, that Giovanni had advised him to send
+a very strong force to arrest the lame young man, from which he argued
+that Zorzi had powerful friends, and that Giovanni knew it. He then
+visited the scene of the fight, and saw that there were drops of blood
+on dry stones, which was not astonishing and which gave no clue whatever
+to the identity of the rescuers. He pointed out quietly to his guide,
+the man who had only received a ducking, that there were no signs of
+fire on the pavement nor on the walls of the houses, which was a strong
+argument against any theory of diabolical intervention; and this the man
+was reluctantly obliged to admit. The strangest thing, however, was
+that the people who lived near by seemed to have heard no noise, though
+one old man, who slept badly, believed that he had heard the clatter of
+wood and iron falling together, and then a splashing in the canal; and
+indeed those were almost the only sounds that had disturbed the night.
+The whole affair was shrouded in mystery, and the Governor, who knew
+that his men were to be trusted as far as their limited intelligence
+could go, resolved to refer the matter to the Council of Ten without
+delay. He therefore bade the archers hold their tongues and refuse to
+talk of their misadventure.</p>
+
+<p>On that night Giovanni had suffered the greatest disappointment he
+remembered in his whole life. He had found without much trouble the
+stone that rang hollow, but it had cost him great pains to lift it, and
+the sweat ran down from his forehead and dropped upon the slab as he
+slowly got it up. His heart beat so that he fancied he could hear it,
+both from the effort he made, and from his intense excitement, now that
+the thing he had most desired in the world was within his grasp. At last
+the big stone was raised upright, and the light of the lamp that stood
+on the floor fell slanting across the dark hole. Giovanni brought the
+lamp to the edge and looked in. He could not see the box, but a quantity
+of loose earth lay there, under which it was doubtless buried. He knelt
+down and began to scoop the earth out, using his two hands together.
+Then he thrust one hand in, and felt about for the box. There was
+nothing there. He cleared out the cavity thoroughly, and tried to loosen
+the soil at the bottom, tearing his nails in his excitement. It must be
+there, he was sure.</p>
+
+<p>But it was not. When he realised that he had been tricked, he collapsed,
+kneeling as he was, and sat upon his heels, and his crooked hands all
+dark with the dusty earth clutched at the stones beside him. He remained
+thus a long time, staring at the empty hole. Then caution, which was
+even stronger in his nature than greed, brought him to himself. His thin
+face was grey and haggard as he carefully swept the earth back to its
+place, removing all traces of what he had done. Then he knew how foolish
+he had been to let Zorzi know what he had partly heard and partly
+guessed.</p>
+
+<p>Of course, as soon as Zorzi understood that Giovanni had found out where
+the book was, he had taken it out and put it away in a safer place, to
+which Giovanni had no clue at all. Zorzi was diabolically clever, and
+would not have been so foolish as to hide the treasure again in the same
+room or in the same way. It was probably in the garden now, but it would
+take a strong man a day or two to dig up all the earth there to the
+depth at which the book must have been buried. Zorzi must have done the
+work at night, after the furnaces were out, and when there were no night
+boys to watch him. But then, the boys had been feeding the fires in the
+laboratory until the previous night, and it followed that he must have
+bailed the box this very evening.</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni got the slab back into its place without injuring it, and he
+rubbed the edges with dust, and swept the place with a broom, as Zorzi
+had done twice already. Then he took the lamp and set it on the table
+before the window. The light fell on the gold piece that lay there. He
+took it, examined it carefully, and slipped it into his wallet with a
+sort of mechanical chuckle. He glanced at the furnace next, and
+recollected that the precious pieces Zorzi had made were in the
+annealing oven. But that did not matter, for the fires would now go out
+and the whole furnace would slowly cool, so that the annealing would be
+very perfect. No one but he could enter the laboratory, now that Zorzi
+was gone, and he could take the pieces to his own house at his leisure.
+They were substantial proofs of Zorzi's wickedness in breaking the laws
+of Venice, however, and it would perhaps be wiser to leave them where
+they were, until the Governor should take cognizance of their existence.</p>
+
+<p>His first disappointment turned to redoubled hatred of the man who had
+caused it, and whom it was safer to hate now than formerly, since he was
+in the clutches of the law; moreover, the defeat of Giovanni's hopes was
+by no means final, after the first shock was over. He could make an
+excuse for having the garden dug over, on pretence of improving it
+during his father's absence; the more easily, as he had learned that the
+garden had always been under Zorzi's care, and must now be cultivated
+by some one else. Giovanni did not believe it possible that the precious
+box had been taken away altogether. It was therefore near, and he could
+find it, and there would be plenty of time before his father's return.
+Nevertheless, he looked about the laboratory and went into the small
+room where Zorzi had slept. There was water there, and Spanish soap, and
+he washed his hands carefully, and brushed the dust from his coat and
+from the knees of his fine black hose. He knew that his patient wife
+would be waiting for him when he went back to the house.</p>
+
+<p>He searched Zorzi's room carefully, but could find nothing. An earthen
+jar containing broken white glass stood in one corner. The narrow
+truckle-bed, with its single thin mattress and flattened pillow, all
+neat and trim, could not have hidden anything. On a line stretched
+across from wall to wall a few clothes were hanging&mdash;a pair of
+disconsolate brown hose, the waistband on the one side of the line
+hanging down to meet the feet on the other, two clean shirts, and a
+Sunday doublet. On the wall a cap with a black eagle's feather hung by a
+nail. Here and there on the white plaster, Zorzi had roughly sketched
+with a bit of charcoal some pieces of glass which he had thought of
+making. That was all. The floor was paved with bricks, and a short
+examination showed that none of them had been moved.</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni turned back into the laboratory, stood a moment looking
+disconsolately at the big stone which it had cost him so much fruitless
+labour to move, and then passed round by the other side of the furnace,
+along the wall against which the bench and the easy chair were placed.
+His eye fell on Marietta's silk mantle, which lay as when it had slipped
+down from her shoulders, the skirts of it trailing on the floor. His
+brows contracted suddenly. He came nearer, felt the stuff, and was sure
+that he recognised it. Then he looked at it, as it lay. It had the
+unmistakable appearance of having been left, as it had been, by the
+person who had last sat in the chair.</p>
+
+<p>Two explanations of the presence of the mantle in the laboratory
+suggested themselves to him at once, but the idea that Marietta could
+herself have been seated in the chair not long ago was so absurd that he
+at once adopted the other. Zorzi had stolen the mantle, and used it for
+himself in the evening, confident that no one would see him. To-night he
+had been surprised and had left it in the chair, another and perhaps a
+crowning proof of his atrocious crimes. Was he not a thief, as well as a
+liar and an assassin? Giovanni knew well enough that the law would
+distinguish between stealing the art of glass-making, which was merely a
+civil offence, though a grave one, and stealing a mantle of silk which
+he estimated to be worth at least two or three pieces of gold. That was
+theft, and it was criminal, and it was one of many crimes which Zorzi
+had undoubtedly committed. The hangman would twist the rest out of him
+with the rack and the iron boot, thought Giovanni gleefully. The
+Governor should see the mantle with his own eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Before he went away, he was careful to fasten the window securely
+inside, and he locked the door after him, taking the key. He carried the
+brass lamp with him, for the corridor was very dark and the night was
+quite still.</p>
+
+<p>Pasquale was seated on the edge of his box-bed in his little lodge when
+Giovanni came to the door. He was more like a big and very ugly
+watch-dog crouching in his kennel than anything else.</p>
+
+<p>"Let no one try to go into the laboratory," said Giovanni, setting down
+the lamp. "I have locked it myself."</p>
+
+<p>Pasquale snarled something incomprehensible, by way of reply, and rose
+to let Giovanni out. He noticed that the latter had brought nothing but
+the lamp with him. When the door was open Pasquale looked across at the
+house, and saw that although there was still light in some of the other
+windows, Marietta's window was now dark. She was safe in bed, for
+Giovanni's search had occupied more than an hour.</p>
+
+<p>Marietta might have breathed somewhat more freely if she had known that
+her brother did not even suspect her of having been to the laboratory,
+but the knowledge would have been more than balanced by a still greater
+anxiety if she had been told that Zorzi could be accused of a common
+theft.</p>
+
+<p>She sat up in the dark and pressed her throbbing temples with her hands.
+She thought, if she thought at all, of getting up again and going back
+to the glass-house. Pasquale would let her in, of course, and she could
+get the mantle back. But there was Nella, in the next room, and Nella
+seemed to be always awake, and would hear her stirring and come in to
+know if she wanted anything. Besides, she was in the dark. The night
+light burned always in Nella's room, a tiny wick supported by a bit of
+split cork in an earthen cup of oil, most carefully tended, for if it
+went out, it could only be lighted by going down to the hall where a
+large lamp burned all night.</p>
+
+<p>Marietta laid her head upon the pillow and tried to sleep, repeating
+over and over again to herself that Zorzi was safe. But for a long time
+the thought of the mantle haunted her. Giovanni had found it, of course,
+and had brought it back with him. In the morning he would send for her
+and demand an explanation, and she would have none to give. She would
+have to admit that she had been in the laboratory&mdash;it mattered little
+when&mdash;and that she had forgotten her mantle there. It would be useless
+to deny it.</p>
+
+<p>Then all at once she looked the future in the face, and she saw a little
+light. She would refuse to answer Giovanni's questions, and when her
+father came back she would tell him everything. She would tell him
+bravely that nothing could make her marry Contarini, that she loved
+Zorzi and would marry him, or no one. The mantle would probably be
+forgotten in the angry discussion that would follow. She hoped so, for
+even her father would never forgive her for having gone alone at night
+to find Zorzi. If he ever found it out, he would make her spend the rest
+of her life in a convent, and it would break his heart that she should
+have thus cast all shame to the winds and brought disgrace on his old
+age. It never occurred to her that he could look upon it in any other
+way.</p>
+
+<p>She dreaded to think of the weeks that might pass before he returned. He
+had spoken of making a long journey and she knew that he had gone
+southward to Rimini to please the great Sigismondo Malatesta, who had
+heard of Beroviero's stained glass windows and mosaics in Florence and
+Naples, and would not be outdone in the possession of beautiful things.
+But no one knew more than that. She was only sure that he would come
+back some time before her intended marriage, and there would still be
+time to break it off. The thought gave her some comfort, and toward
+morning she fell into an uneasy sleep. Of all who had played a part in
+that eventful night she slept the least, for she had the most at stake;
+her fair name, Zorzi's safety, her whole future life were in the
+balance, and she was sure that Giovanni would send for her in the
+morning.</p>
+
+<p>She awoke weary and unrefreshed when the sun was already high. She
+scarcely had energy to clap her hands for Nella, and after the window
+was open she still lay listlessly on her pillow. The little woman looked
+at her rather anxiously but said nothing at first, setting the big dish
+with fruit and water on the table as usual, and busying herself with her
+mistress's clothes. She opened the great carved wardrobe, and she hung
+up some things and took out others, in a methodical way.</p>
+
+<p>"Where is your silk mantle?" she asked suddenly, as she missed the
+garment from its accustomed place.</p>
+
+<p>"I do not know," answered Marietta quite naturally, for she had expected
+the question.</p>
+
+<p>Her reply was literally true, since she had every reason for believing
+that Giovanni had brought it back with him in the night, but could have
+no idea as to where he had put it. Nella began to search anxiously,
+turning over everything in the wardrobe and the few things that hung
+over the chairs.</p>
+
+<p>"You could not have put it into the chest, could you?" she asked,
+pausing at the foot of the bed and looking at Marietta.</p>
+
+<p>"No. I am sure I did not," answered the girl. "I never do."</p>
+
+<p>"Then it has been stolen," said Nella, and her face darkened wrathfully.</p>
+
+<p>"How is such a thing possible?" asked Marietta carelessly. "It must be
+somewhere."</p>
+
+<p>This appeared to be certain, but Nella denied it with energy, her eyes
+fixed on Marietta almost as angrily as if she suspected her of having
+stolen her own mantle from herself.</p>
+
+<p>"I tell you it is not," she replied. "I have looked everywhere. It has
+been stolen."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you looked in your own room?" inquired Marietta indifferently, and
+turning her head on her pillow, as if she were tired of meeting Nella's
+eyes, as indeed she was.</p>
+
+<p>"My own room indeed!" cried the maid indignantly. "As if I did not know
+what is in my own room! As if your new silk mantle could hide itself
+amongst my four rags!"</p>
+
+<p>Why Nella and her kind, to this day, use the number four in contempt,
+rather than three or five, is a mystery of what one might call the
+psychical side of the Italian language. Marietta did not answer.</p>
+
+<p>"It has been stolen," Nella repeated, with gloomy emphasis. "I trust no
+one in this house, since your brother and his wife have been here, with
+their servants."</p>
+
+<p>"My sister-in-law was obliged to bring one of her women," objected
+Marietta.</p>
+
+<p>"She need not have brought that sour-faced shrew, who walks about the
+house all day repeating the rosary and poking her long nose into what
+does not belong to her. But I am not afraid of the Signor Giovanni. I
+will tell the housekeeper that your mantle has been stolen, and all the
+women's belongings shall be searched before dinner, and we shall find
+the mantle in that evil person's box."</p>
+
+<p>"You must do nothing of the sort," answered Marietta in a tone of
+authority.</p>
+
+<p>She sat up in bed at last, and threw the thick braid of hair behind her,
+as every woman does when her hair is down, if she means to assert
+herself.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah," cried Nella mockingly, "I see that you are content to lose your
+best things without looking for them! Then let us throw everything out
+of the window at once! We shall make a fine figure!"</p>
+
+<p>"I will speak to my brother about it myself," said Marietta.</p>
+
+<p>Indeed she thought it extremely likely that Giovanni would oblige her to
+speak of it within an hour.</p>
+
+<p>"You will only make trouble among the servants," she added.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, as you please!" snorted Nella discontentedly. "I only tell you that
+I know who took it. That is all. Please to remember that I said so, when
+it is too late. And as for trouble, there is not one of us in the house
+who would not like to be searched for the sake of sending your
+sister-in-law's maid to prison, where she belongs!"</p>
+
+<p>"Nella," said Marietta, "I do not care a straw about the mantle. I want
+you to do something very important. I am sure that Zorzi has been
+arrested unjustly, and I do not believe that the Governor will keep him
+in prison. Can you not get your friend the gondolier to go to the
+Governor's palace before mid-day, and ask whether Zorzi is to be let
+out?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I can. By and by I will call him. He is busy cleaning the
+gondola now."</p>
+
+<p>Marietta had spoken quite quietly, though she had expected that her
+voice would shake, and she had been almost sure that she was going to
+blush. But nothing so dreadful happened, though she had prepared for it
+by turning her back on Nella. She sat on the edge of the bed, slowly
+feeling her way into her little yellow leathern slippers. It was a
+relief to know that even now she could speak of Zorzi without giving any
+outward sign of emotion, and she felt a little encouraged, as she began
+the dreaded day.</p>
+
+<p>She took a long time in dressing, for she expected at every moment that
+her sister-in-law's maid would knock at the door with a message from
+Giovanni, bidding her come to him before he went out. But no one came,
+though it was already past the hour at which he usually left the house.
+All at once she heard his unmistakable voice through the open window,
+and on looking out through the flowers she saw him standing at the open
+door of the glass-house, talking with the porter, or rather, giving
+instructions about the garden which Pasquale received in surly silence.</p>
+
+<p>Marietta listened in surprise. It seemed impossible that Giovanni should
+not take her to task at once if he had found the mantle. He was not the
+kind of man to put off accusing any one when he had proof of guilt and
+was sure that the law was on his side, and Marietta felt sure that the
+evidence against her was overwhelming, for she had yet to learn what
+amazing things can be done with impunity by people who have the
+reputation of perfect innocence.</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni was telling Pasquale, in a tone which every one might hear,
+that he had sent for a gardener, who would soon come with a lad to help
+him, that the two must be admitted at once, and that he himself would
+be within to receive them; but that no one else was to be allowed to go
+in, as he should be extremely busy all the morning. Having said these
+things three or four times over, in order to impress them on Pasquale's
+mind, he went in. The porter looked up at Marietta's window a moment,
+and then followed him and shut the door. It was clear that Giovanni had
+no intention of speaking to his sister before the mid-day meal. She
+breathed more freely, since she was to have a respite of several hours.</p>
+
+<p>When she was dressed, Nella called the gondolier from her own window,
+and met him in the passage when he came up. He at once promised to make
+inquiries about Zorzi and went off to the palace to find his friend and
+crony, the Governor's head boatman. The latter, it is needless to say,
+knew every detail of the supernatural rescue from the archers, who could
+talk of nothing else in spite of the Governor's prohibition. They sat in
+a row on the stone bench within the main entrance, a rueful crew, their
+heads bound up with a pleasing variety of bandages. In an hour the
+gondolier returned, laden with the wonderful story which Nella was the
+first, but not the last, to hear from him. Her brown eyes seemed to be
+starting from her head when she came back to tell it to her mistress.</p>
+
+<p>Marietta listened with a beating heart, though Nella began at once by
+saying that Zorzi had mysteriously disappeared, and was certainly not in
+prison. When all was told, she drew a long breath, and wished that she
+could be alone to think over what she had heard; but Nella's imagination
+was roused, and she was prepared to discuss the affair all the morning.
+The details of it had become more and more numerous and circumstantial,
+as the men with the bandaged heads recalled what they had seen and
+heard. The devils that had delivered Zorzi all had blue noses, brass
+teeth and fiery tails. A peculiarity of theirs was that they had six
+fingers with six iron claws on each hand, and that all their hoofs were
+red-hot. As to their numbers, they might be roughly estimated at a
+thousand or so, and their roaring was like the howling of the south wind
+and the breaking of the sea on the Lido in a winter storm. It was
+horrible to hear, and would alone have put all the armies of the
+Republic to ignominious flight. Nella thought these things very
+interesting. She wished that she might talk with one of the men who had
+seen a real devil.</p>
+
+<p>"I do not believe a word of all that nonsense," said Marietta. "The most
+important thing is that Zorzi got away from them and is not in prison."</p>
+
+<p>"If he escaped by selling his soul to the fiends," said Nella, shaking
+her head, "it is a very evil thing."</p>
+
+<p>Her mistress's disbelief in the blue noses and fiery tails was
+disconcerting, and had a chilling effect on Nella's talkative mood. The
+gondolier had crossed the bridge, to tell his story to Pasquale, whose
+view of the case seemed to differ from Nella's. He listened with
+approving interest, but without comment, until the gondolier had
+finished.</p>
+
+<p>"I could tell you many such stories," he said. "Things of this kind
+often happen at sea."</p>
+
+<p>"Really!" exclaimed the gondolier, who was only a boatman and regarded
+real sailors with a sort of professional reverence.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," answered Pasquale. "Especially on Sundays. You must know that
+when the priests are all saying mass, and the people are all praying,
+the devils cannot bear it, and are driven out to sea for the day. Very
+strange things happen then, I assure you. Some day I will tell you how
+the boatswain of a ship I once sailed in rove the end of the devil's
+tail through a link of the chain, made a Flemish knot at the end to stop
+it, and let go the anchor. So the devil went to the bottom by the run.
+We unshackled the chain and wore the ship to the wind, and after that we
+had fair weather to the end of the voyage. It happened on a Sunday."</p>
+
+<p>"Marvellous!" cried the gondolier. "I should like to hear the whole
+story! But if you will allow me, I will go in and tell the Signor
+Giovanni what has happened, for he does not know yet."</p>
+
+<p>Pasquale grinned as he stood in the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>"He has given strict orders that no one is to be admitted this morning,
+as he is very busy."</p>
+
+<p>"But this is a very important matter," argued the gondolier, who wished
+to have the pleasure of telling the tale.</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot help it," answered Pasquale. "Those are his orders, and I must
+obey them. You know what his temper is, when he is not pleased."</p>
+
+<p>Just then a skiff came up the canal at a great rate, so that the quick
+strokes of the oar attracted the men's attention. They saw that the boat
+was one of those that could be hired everywhere in Venice. The oarsman
+backed water with a strong stroke and brought to at the steps before the
+glass-house.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you not Messer Angelo Beroviero's gondolier?" he inquired civilly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," answered the man addressed, "I am the head gondolier, at your
+service."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you," replied the boatman. "I am to tell you that Messer Angelo
+has just arrived in Venice by sea, from Rimini, on board the <i>Santa
+Lucia</i>, a Neapolitan galliot now at anchor in the Giudecca. He desires
+you to bring his gondola at once to fetch him, and I am to bring over
+his baggage in my skiff."</p>
+
+<p>The gondolier uttered an exclamation of surprise, and then turned to
+Pasquale.</p>
+
+<p>"I go," he said. "Will you tell the Signor Giovanni that his father is
+coming home?"</p>
+
+<p>Pasquale grinned again. He was rarely in such a pleasant humour.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly not," he answered. "The Signor Giovanni is very busy, and has
+given strict orders that he is not to be disturbed on any account."</p>
+
+<p>"That is your affair," said the gondolier, hurrying away.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2>
+
+
+<p>A little more than an hour later, the gondola came back and stopped
+alongside the steps of the house. The gondolier had made such haste to
+obey the summons that he had not thought of going into the house to give
+the servants warning, and as most of the shutters were already drawn
+together against the heat, no one had been looking out when he went
+away. He had asked Pasquale to tell the young master, and that was all
+that could be expected of him. There was therefore great surprise in the
+household when Angelo Beroviero went up the steps of his house, and his
+own astonishment that no one should be there to receive him was almost
+as great. The gondolier explained, and told him what Pasquale had said.</p>
+
+<p>It was enough to rouse the old man's suspicions at once. He had left
+Zorzi in charge of the laboratory, enjoining upon him not to encourage
+Giovanni to go there; but now Giovanni was shut up there, presumably
+with Zorzi, and had given orders that he was not to be disturbed. The
+gondolier had not dared to say anything about the Dalmatian's arrest,
+and Beroviero was quite ignorant of all that had happened. He was not a
+man who hesitated when his suspicions or his temper were at work, and
+now he turned, without even entering his home, and crossed the bridge
+to the glass-house. Pasquale was looking through the grating and saw him
+coming, and was ready to receive him at the open door. For the third
+time on that morning, he grinned from ear to ear. Beroviero was pleased
+by the silent welcome of his old and trusted servant.</p>
+
+<p>"You seem glad to see me again," he said, laying his hand kindly on the
+old porter's arm as he passed in.</p>
+
+<p>"Others will be glad, too," was the answer.</p>
+
+<p>As he went down the corridor Beroviero heard the sound of spades
+striking into the earth and shovelling it away. The gardener and his lad
+had been at work nearly two hours, and had turned up most of the earth
+in the little flower-beds to a depth of two or three feet during that
+time, while Giovanni sat motionless under the plane-tree, watching every
+movement of their spades. He rose nervously when he heard footsteps in
+the corridor, for he did not wish any one to find him seated there,
+apparently watching a most commonplace operation with profound interest.
+He had made a step towards the door of the laboratory, when he saw his
+father emerge from the dark passage. He was a coward, and he trembled
+from head to foot, his teeth chattered in his head, and the cold sweat
+moistened his forehead in an instant. The old man stood still four or
+five paces from him and looked from him to the men who had been digging.
+On seeing the master they stopped working and pulled off their knitted
+caps. As a further sign of respect they wiped their dripping faces with
+their shirt sleeves.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you doing here?" asked Beroviero in a tone of displeasure.
+"The garden was very well as it was."</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I thought," stammered Giovanni, "that it would&mdash;that it might be
+better to dig it&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"It would not be better," answered the old man. "You may go," he added,
+speaking to the men, who were glad enough to be dismissed.</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero passed his son without further words and tried the door of the
+laboratory, but found it locked.</p>
+
+<p>"What is this?" he asked angrily. "Where is Zorzi? I told him not to
+leave you here alone."</p>
+
+<p>"You had great confidence in him," answered Giovanni, recovering himself
+a little. "He is in prison."</p>
+
+<p>He took the key from his wallet and thrust it into the lock as he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"In prison!" cried Beroviero in a loud voice. "What do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni held the door open for him.</p>
+
+<p>"I will tell you all about Zorzi, if you will come in," he said.</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero entered, stood still a moment and looked about. Everything was
+as Zorzi had left it, but the glass-maker's ear missed the low roar of
+the furnace. Instinctively he made a step towards the latter, extending
+his hand to see whether it was already cold, but at that moment he
+caught sight of the silk mantle in the chair. He glanced quickly at his
+son.</p>
+
+<p>"Has Marietta been here with you this morning?" he asked sharply.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh no!" answered Giovanni contemptuously. "Zorzi stole that thing and
+had not time to hide it when they arrested him last night. I left it
+just where it was, that the Governor might see it."</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero's face changed slowly. His fiery brown eyes began to show a
+dangerous light and he stroked his long beard quickly, twisting it a
+little each time.</p>
+
+<p>"If you say that Zorzi stole Marietta's silk mantle," he said slowly,
+"you are either a fool or a liar."</p>
+
+<p>"You are my father," answered Giovanni in some perturbation. "I cannot
+answer you."</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero was silent for a long time. He took the mantle from the chair,
+examined it and assured himself that it was Marietta's own and no other.
+Then he carefully folded it up and laid it on the bench. His brows were
+contracted as if he were in great pain, and his face was pale, but his
+eyes were still angry.</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni knew the signs of his father's wrath and dared not speak to him
+yet..</p>
+
+<p>"Is this the evidence on which you have had my man arrested?" asked
+Beroviero, sitting down in the big chair and fixing his gaze on his son.</p>
+
+<p>"By no means," answered Giovanni, with all the coolness he could
+command. "If it pleases you to hear my story from the beginning I will
+tell you all. If you do not hear all, you cannot possibly understand."</p>
+
+<p>"I am listening," said old Beroviero, leaning back and laying his hands
+on the broad wooden arms of the chair.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall tell you everything, exactly as it happened," said Giovanni,
+"and I swear that it is all true."</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero reflected that in his experience this was usually the way in
+which liars introduced their accounts of events. For truth is like a
+work of genius: it carries conviction with it at once, and therefore
+needs no recommendation, nor other artificial support.</p>
+
+<p>"After you left," Giovanni continued, "I came here one morning, out of
+pure friendliness to Zorzi, and as we talked I chanced to look at those
+things on the shelf. When I admired them, he admitted rather reluctantly
+that he had made them, and other things which you have in your house."</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero gravely nodded his assent to the statement.</p>
+
+<p>"I asked him to make me something," Giovanni went on to say, "but he
+told me that he had no white glass in the furnace, and that what was
+there was the result of your experiments."</p>
+
+<p>Again Beroviero bent his head.</p>
+
+<p>"So I asked him to bring his blow-pipe to the main furnace room, where
+they were still working at that time, and we went there together. He at
+once made a very beautiful piece, and was just finishing it when a bad
+accident happened to him. Another man let his blow-pipe fly from his
+hand and it fell upon Zorzi's foot with a large lump of hot glass."</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero looked keenly at Giovanni.</p>
+
+<p>"You know as well as I that it could not have been an accident," he
+said. "It was done out of spite."</p>
+
+<p>"That may be," replied Giovanni, "for the men do not like him, as you
+know. But Zorzi accepted it as being an accident, and said so. He was
+badly hurt, and is still lame. Nella dressed the wound, and then
+Marietta came with her."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you sure Marietta came here?" asked Beroviero, growing paler.</p>
+
+<p>"Quite sure. They were on their way here together early in the morning
+when I stopped them, and asked Marietta where she was going, and she
+boldly said she was going to see Zorzi. I could not prevent her, and I
+saw them both go in."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mean to say that although Zorzi was so badly hurt you did not
+have him brought to the house?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I proposed that at once," Giovanni answered. "But he said
+that he would not leave the furnace."</p>
+
+<p>"That was like him," said old Beroviero.</p>
+
+<p>"He knew what he was doing. It was on that same day that a night boy
+told me how he had seen you and Zorzi burying something in the
+laboratory the night before you left."</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero started and leaned forward. Giovanni smiled thoughtfully, for
+he saw how his father was moved, and he knew that the strongest part of
+his story was yet untold.</p>
+
+<p>"It would have been better to leave Paolo Godi's manuscript with me," he
+said, in a tone of sympathy. "I grew anxious for its safety as soon as I
+knew that Zorzi had charge of it. Yesterday morning I came in again.
+Zorzi was sitting on the working-stool, finishing a beautiful beaker of
+white glass."</p>
+
+<p>"White glass?" repeated Beroviero in evident surprise. "White glass?
+Here?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," answered Giovanni, enjoying his triumph. "I pointed out that when
+I had last come, there had been no white glass in the furnace. He
+answered that as one of the experiments had produced a beautiful red
+colour which he thought must be valuable, he had removed the crucible.
+He also showed me a specimen of it."</p>
+
+<p>"Is it here?" asked Beroviero anxiously. "Where is it?"</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni took the specimen from the table, for Zorzi had left it lying
+there, and he handed it to his father. The latter took it, held it up to
+the light, and uttered an exclamation of astonishment and anger.</p>
+
+<p>"There is only one way of making that," he said, without hesitation.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," Giovanni answered coolly. "I supposed it was made according to
+one of your secrets."</p>
+
+<p>A quick look was the only reply to this speech. Giovanni continued.</p>
+
+<p>"I asked him to sell me the piece of glass he had been making when he
+came in, and at first he pretended that he was not sure whether you
+would allow it, but at last he took a piece of gold for it, and I was to
+have it as soon as it was annealed. When you see it, you will understand
+why I was so anxious to get it."</p>
+
+<p>"Where is it?" asked the old man. "Show it to me."</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni went to the other end of the annealing oven, and came back a
+moment later carrying the iron tray on which stood the pieces Zorzi had
+made on the previous morning. Beroviero looked at them critically, tried
+their weight, and noticed their transparency.</p>
+
+<p>"That is not my glass," he said in a tone of decision.</p>
+
+<p>"No," said Giovanni, "I saw that it was not your ordinary glass. It
+seems much better. Now Zorzi must have made it in a new crucible, and if
+he did, he made it with some secret of yours, for it is impossible that
+he should have discovered it himself. I said to myself that if he had
+made it, and the red glass there, he must have opened the book which you
+had buried together in this room, and that there was only one way of
+hindering him from learning everything in it, and ruining you and us by
+setting up a furnace of his own."</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero was looking hard at Giovanni, but he was now thoroughly
+alarmed for the safety of his treasured manuscript, and listened with
+attention and without any hostility. The proofs seemed at first sight
+very strong, and after all Zorzi was only a Dalmatian and a foreigner,
+who might have yielded to temptation.</p>
+
+<p>"What did you do?" asked Beroviero.</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni told him the truth, how he had written a letter to the
+Governor, and had seen him in person, as well as Jacopo Contarini.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," Giovanni concluded, "you know best. If you find the book
+as you and he hid it together, he must have learned your secrets in some
+other way."</p>
+
+<p>"We can easily see," answered old Beroviero, rising quickly. "Come here.
+Get the crowbar from the corner, and help me to lift the stone."</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni took pains to look for the crowbar exactly where it was not,
+for he thought that this would divert any lingering suspicion from
+himself, but Beroviero was only annoyed.</p>
+
+<p>"There, there!" he cried, pointing. "It is in that corner. Quickly!"</p>
+
+<p>"It would be like the clever scoundrel to have copied what he wanted and
+then to have put the book back into the hiding-place," said Giovanni,
+pausing.</p>
+
+<p>"Do not waste words, my son!" cried Beroviero in the greatest anxiety.
+"Here! This is the stone. Get the crowbar in at this side. So. Now we
+will both heave. There! Wedge the stone up with that bit of wood. That
+will do. Now let us both get our hands under it, and lift it up."</p>
+
+<p>It was done, while he was speaking. A moment later Giovanni had scooped
+out the loose earth, and Beroviero was staring down into the empty hole,
+just as Giovanni had done on the previous night. Giovanni was almost
+consoled for his own disappointment when he saw his father's face.</p>
+
+<p>"It is certainly gone," he said. "You did not bury it deeper, did you?
+The soil is hard below."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no! It is gone!" answered the old man in a dull voice. "Zorzi has
+got it."</p>
+
+<p>"You see," said Giovanni mercilessly, "when I saw the red and white
+glass which he had made himself I was so sure of the truth that I acted
+quickly. I saw him arrested, and I do not think he could have had
+anything like a book with him, for he was in his doublet and hose. And
+as he is safe in prison now, he can be made to tell where he has put the
+thing. How big was it?"</p>
+
+<p>"It was in an iron box. It was heavy." Beroviero spoke in low tones,
+overcome by his loss, and by the apparent certainty that Zorzi had
+betrayed him.</p>
+
+<p>"You see why I should naturally suspect him of having stolen the
+mantle," observed Giovanni. "A man who would betray your confidence in
+such a way would do anything."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes," answered the old master vaguely. "Yes&mdash;I must go and see him
+in prison. I was kind to him, and perhaps he may confess everything to
+me."</p>
+
+<p>"We might ask Marietta when she first missed her mantle," suggested
+Giovanni. "She must have noticed that it was gone."</p>
+
+<p>"She will not remember," answered Beroviero. "Let us go to the
+Governor's house at once. There is just time before mid-day. We can
+speak to Marietta at dinner."</p>
+
+<p>"But you must be tired, after your journey," objected Giovanni, with
+unusual concern for his father's comfort.</p>
+
+<p>"No. I slept well on the ship. I have done nothing to tire me. The
+gondola may be still there. Tell Pasquale to call it over, and we will
+go directly. Go on! I will follow you."</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni went forward, and Beroviero stayed a moment to look again at
+the beautiful objects of white glass, examining them carefully, one by
+one. The workmanship was marvellous, and he could not help admiring it,
+but it was the glass itself that disturbed him. It was like his own, but
+it was better, and the knowledge of its composition and treatment was a
+fortune. Then, too, the secret of dropping a piece of copper into a
+certain mixture in order to produce a particularly beautiful red colour
+was in the book, and the colour could not be mistaken and was not the
+one which Beroviero had been trying to produce. He shook his head sadly
+as he went out and locked the door behind him, convinced against his
+will that he had been betrayed by the man whom he had most trusted in
+the world.</p>
+
+<p>Pasquale watched the two, father and son, as they got into the gondola.
+Old Beroviero had not even looked at him as he came out, and it was not
+the porter's business to volunteer information, nor the gondolier's
+either. But when the latter was ordered to row to the Governor's house
+as fast as possible, he turned his head and looked at Pasquale, who
+slowly nodded his ugly head before going in again.</p>
+
+<p>On reaching their destination they were received at once, and the
+Governor told them what had happened, in as few words as possible.
+Nothing could exceed old Beroviero's consternation, and his son's
+disappointment. Zorzi had been rescued at the corner of San Piero's
+church by men who had knocked senseless the officer and the six archers.
+No one knew who these men were, nor their numbers, but they were clearly
+friends of Zorzi's who had known that he was to be arrested.</p>
+
+<p>"Accomplices," suggested Giovanni. "He has stolen a valuable book of my
+father's, containing secrets for making the finest glass. By this time
+he is on his way to Milan, or Florence."</p>
+
+<p>"I daresay," said the Governor. "These foreigners are capable of
+anything."</p>
+
+<p>"I had trusted him so confidently," said Beroviero, too much overcome to
+be angry.</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly," answered the Governor. "You trusted him too much."</p>
+
+<p>"I always thought so," put in Giovanni wisely.</p>
+
+<p>"There is nothing to be said," resumed Beroviero. "I do not wish to
+believe it of him, but I cannot deny the evidence of my own senses."</p>
+
+<p>"I have already sent a report to the Council of Ten," said the Governor.
+"The most careful search will be made in Venice for Zorzi and his
+companions, and if they are found, they will suffer for what they have
+done."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope so!" replied Giovanni heartily.</p>
+
+<p>"I remember that you recommended me to send a strong force," observed
+the Governor. "Perhaps you knew that a rescue was intended. Or you were
+aware that the fellow had daring accomplices."</p>
+
+<p>"I only suspected it," Giovanni answered. "I knew nothing. He was always
+alone."</p>
+
+<p>"He has hardly been out of my sight for five years," said old Beroviero
+sadly.</p>
+
+<p>He and his son took their leave, the Governor promising to keep them
+informed as to the progress of the search. At present nothing more could
+be done, for Zorzi has disappeared altogether, and old Beroviero was
+much inclined to share his son's opinion that the fugitive was already
+on his way to Milan, or Florence, where the possession of the secrets
+would insure him a large fortune, very greatly to the injury of
+Beroviero and all the glass-workers of Murano. The two men returned to
+the house in silence, for the elder was too much absorbed by his own
+thoughts to speak, and Giovanni was too wise to interrupt reflections
+which undoubtedly tended to Zorzi's destruction.</p>
+
+<p>Marietta was awaiting her father's return with much anxiety, for every
+one knew that the master had gone first to the laboratory and then to
+the Governor's palace, with Giovanni, so that the two must have been
+talking together a long time. Marietta waited with her sister-in-law in
+the lower hall, slowly walking up and down.</p>
+
+<p>When her father came up the low steps at last, she went forward to meet
+him, and a glance told her that he was in the most extreme anxiety. She
+took his hand and kissed it, in the customary manner, and he bent a
+little and touched her forehead with his lips. Then, to her surprise, he
+put one hand under her chin, and laid the other on the top of her head,
+and with gentle force made her look at him. Giovanni's wife was there,
+and most of the servants were standing near the foot of the staircase to
+welcome their master.</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero said nothing as he gazed into his daughter's eyes. They met
+his own fearlessly enough, and she opened them wide, as she rarely did,
+as if to show that she had nothing to conceal; but while he looked at
+her the blood rose blushing in her cheeks, telling that there was
+something to hide after all, and as she would not turn her eyes from
+his, they sparkled a little with vexation. Beroviero did not speak, but
+he let her go and went on towards the stairs, bending his head
+graciously to the other persons who were assembled to greet him.</p>
+
+<p>He was a man of strong character and of much natural dignity, far too
+proud to break down under a great loss or a bitter disappointment, and
+at dinner he sat at the head of the table and spoke affably of the
+journey he had made, explaining his unexpectedly early return by the
+fact that the Lord of Rimini had at once approved his designs and
+accepted his terms. Occasionally Giovanni asked a respectful question,
+but neither his wife nor Marietta said much during the meal. Zorzi was
+not mentioned.</p>
+
+<p>"You are welcome at my house, my son," Beroviero said, when they had
+finished, "but I suppose that you will go back to your own this
+evening."</p>
+
+<p>This was of course a command, and Marietta thought it a good omen. She
+had felt sure, when her father made her look at him, that Giovanni had
+spoken to him of the mantle, but in what way she could not tell.
+Perhaps, though it seemed incredible, he would not make such a serious
+case of it as she had expected.</p>
+
+<p>He said nothing, when he withdrew to rest during the hot hours of the
+afternoon, and she went to her own room as every one did at that time.
+Little as she had slept that night, she felt that it would be
+intolerable to lie down; so she took her little basket of beads and
+tried to work. Nella was dozing in the next room. From time to time the
+young girl leaned back in her chair with half-closed eyes, and a look of
+pain came over her face; then with an effort she took her needle once
+more, and picked out the beads, threading them one by one in a regular
+succession of colours.</p>
+
+<p>She was sure that if Zorzi were near he would have already found some
+means of informing her that he was really in safety. He must have
+friends of whom she knew nothing, and who had rescued him at great risk.
+He would surely trust one of them to take a message, or to make a signal
+which she could understand. She sat near the window, and the shutters
+were half closed so as to leave a space through which she could look
+out. From time to time she glanced at the white line of the footway
+opposite, over which the shadow of the glass-house was beginning to
+creep as the sun moved westward. But no one appeared. When it was cool
+Pasquale would probably come out and look three times up and down the
+canal as he always did. Giovanni would not go to the laboratory again.
+Perhaps her father would go, when, he was rested. Then, if she chose,
+she could take Nella and join him, and since there was to be an
+explanation with him, she would rather have it in the laboratory, where
+they would be quite alone.</p>
+
+<p>She had fully made up her mind to tell him at the very first interview
+that she would not marry Jacopo Contarini under any circumstances, but
+she had not decided whether she would add that she loved Zorzi. She
+hated anything like cowardice, and it would be cowardly to put off
+telling the truth any longer; but what concerned Zorzi was her secret,
+and she had a right to choose the most favourable moment for making a
+revelation on which her whole life, and Zorzi's also, must immediately
+depend. She felt weak and tired, for she had eaten little and hardly
+slept at all, but her determination was strong and she would act upon
+it.</p>
+
+<p>Occasionally she rose and moved wearily about the room, looked out
+between the shutters and then sat down again. She was in one of those
+moments of life in which all existence seems drawn out to an endless
+quivering thread, a single throbbing nerve stretched to its utmost point
+of strain.</p>
+
+<p>The silence was broken by a man's footstep in the passage, coming
+towards her door. A moment later she heard her father's voice, asking if
+he might come in. Almost at the same time she opened and Beroviero stood
+on the threshold. Nella had heard him speaking, too, and she started up,
+wide awake in an instant, and came in, to see if she were needed.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you go with me to the laboratory, my dear?" asked the old man
+quietly.</p>
+
+<p>She answered gravely that she would. There was no gladness in her tone,
+but no reluctance. She was facing the most difficult situation she had
+ever known, and perhaps the most dangerous.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well," said her father. "Let Nella give you your silk mantle and
+we will go at once."</p>
+
+<p>Before Marietta could have answered, even if she had known what to say,
+Nella had begun her tale of woe. The mantle was stolen, the sour-faced
+shrew of a maid who belonged to the Signor Giovanni's wife had stolen
+it, the house ought to be searched at once, and so much more to the same
+effect that Nella was obliged to pause for breath.</p>
+
+<p>"When did you miss it?" asked Beroviero, looking hard at the
+serving-woman.</p>
+
+<p>"This morning, sir. It was here last night, I am quite sure."</p>
+
+<p>The truthful little brown eyes did not waver.</p>
+
+<p>"And it cannot have been any one else," continued Nella. "This is a very
+evil person, sir, and she sometimes comes here with a message, or making
+believe that she is helping me. As if I needed help, indeed!"</p>
+
+<p>"Do not accuse people of stealing when you have no evidence against
+them," answered Beroviero somewhat sternly. "Give your mistress
+something else to throw over her."</p>
+
+<p>"Give me the green silk cloak," said Marietta, who was anxious not to be
+questioned about the mantle.</p>
+
+<p>"It has a spot in one corner," Nella answered discontentedly, as she
+went to the wardrobe.</p>
+
+<p>The spot turned out to be no bigger than the head of a pin. A moment
+later Marietta and her father were going downstairs. At the door of the
+glass-house Pasquale eyed them with approbation, and Marietta smiled and
+said a word to him as she passed. It seemed strange that she should have
+trusted the ugly old man with a secret which she dared not tell her own
+father.</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero did not speak as she followed him down the path and stood
+waiting while he unlocked the door. Then they both entered, and he laid
+his cap upon the table.</p>
+
+<p>"There is your mantle, my dear," he said quietly, and he pointed to it,
+neatly folded and lying on the bench.</p>
+
+<p>Marietta started, for she was taken unawares. While in her own room, her
+father had spoken so naturally as to make it seem quite possible that
+Giovanni had said nothing about it to him, yet he had known exactly
+where it was. He was facing her now, as he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"It was found here last night, after Zorzi had been arrested," said
+Beroviero. "Do you understand?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," Marietta answered, gathering all her courage. "We will talk about
+it by and by. First, I have something to say to you which is much more
+important than anything concerning the mantle. Will you sit down,
+father, and hear me as patiently as you can?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am learning patience to-day," said Beroviero, sitting down in his
+chair. "I am learning also the meaning of such words as ingratitude,
+betrayal and treachery, which were never before spoken in my house."</p>
+
+<p>He sighed and leaned back, looking at the wall. Marietta dropped her
+cloak beside the mantle on the bench and began to walk up and down
+before him, trying to begin her speech. But she could not find any
+words.</p>
+
+<p>"Speak, child," said her father. "What has happened? It seems to me that
+I could bear almost anything now."</p>
+
+<p>She stood still a moment before him, still hesitating. She now saw that
+he had suffered more than she had suspected, doubtless owing to Zorzi's
+arrest and disappearance, and she knew that what she meant to tell him
+would hurt him much more.</p>
+
+<p>"Father," she began at last, with a great effort, "I know that what I am
+going to say will displease you very, very much. I am sorry&mdash;I wish it
+were not&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly her set speech broke down. She fell on her knees and took his
+hands, looking up beseechingly to his face.</p>
+
+<p>"Forgive me!" she cried. "Oh, for God's sake forgive me! I cannot marry
+Jacopo Contarini!"</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero had not expected that. He sat upright in the chair, in his
+amazement, and instinctively tried to draw his hands out of hers, but
+she held them fast, gazing earnestly up to him. His look was not angry,
+nor cold, nor did he even seem hurt. He was simply astonished beyond
+all measure by the enormous audacity of what she said. As yet he did not
+connect it with anything else.</p>
+
+<p>"I think you must be mad!"</p>
+
+<p>That was all he could find to say.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2>
+
+
+<p>Marietta shook her head. She still knelt at her father's feet, holding
+his hands.</p>
+
+<p>"I am not mad," she said. "I am in earnest. I cannot marry him. It is
+impossible."</p>
+
+<p>"You must marry him," answered Beroviero. "You are betrothed to him, and
+it would be an insult to his family to break off the marriage now.
+Besides, you have no reason to give, not the shadow of a reason."</p>
+
+<p>Marietta dropped his hands and rose to her feet lightly. She had
+expected a terrific outburst of anger, which would gradually subside,
+after which she hoped to find words with which to influence him. But
+like many hot-tempered men, he was sometimes unexpectedly calm at
+critical moments, as if he were really able to control his nature when
+he chose. She now almost wished that he would break out in a rage, as
+women sometimes hope we may, for they know it is far easier to deal with
+an angry man than with a determined one.</p>
+
+<p>"I will not marry him," she said at last, with strong emphasis, and
+almost defiantly.</p>
+
+<p>"My child," Beroviero answered gravely, "you do not know what you are
+saying."</p>
+
+<p>"I do!" cried Marietta with some indignation. "I have thought of it a
+long time. I was very wrong not to make up my mind from the beginning,
+and I ask your forgiveness. In my heart I always knew that I could not
+do it in the end, and I should have said so at once. It was a great
+mistake."</p>
+
+<p>"There is no question of your consent," replied Beroviero with
+conviction. "If girls were consulted as to the men they were to marry,
+the world would soon come to an end. This is only a passing madness, of
+which you should be heartily ashamed. Say no more about it. On the
+appointed day, the wedding will take place."</p>
+
+<p>"It will not," said Marietta firmly; "and you will do better to let it
+be known at once. It is of no use to take heaven to witness, and to make
+a solemn oath. I merely say that I will not marry Jacopo Contarini. You
+may carry me to the church, you may drag me before the altar, but I will
+resist. I will scream out that I will not, and the priest himself will
+protect me. That will be a much greater scandal than if you go to the
+Contarini family and tell them that your daughter is mad&mdash;if you really
+think I am."</p>
+
+<p>"You are undoubtedly beside yourself at the present moment," Beroviero
+answered. "But it will pass, I hope."</p>
+
+<p>"Not while I am alive, and I shall certainly resist to the end. It would
+be much wiser of you to send me to a convent at once, than to count on
+forcing me to go through the marriage ceremony."</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero stared at her, and stroked his beard. He began to believe that
+she might possibly be in earnest. Since she talked so quietly of going
+to a convent, a fate which most girls considered the most terrible that
+could be imagined. He bent his brows in thought, but watched her
+steadily.</p>
+
+<p>"You have not yet given me a single reason for all this wild talk," he
+said after a pause. "It is absurd to think that without some good cause
+you are suddenly filled with repulsion for marriage, or for Jacopo
+Contarini. I have heard of young women who were betrothed, but who felt
+a religious vocation, and refused to marry for that reason. It never
+seemed a very satisfactory one to me, for if there is any condition in
+which a woman needs religion, it is the marriage state."</p>
+
+<p>He paused in his speech, pleased with his own idea, in spite of all his
+troubles. Marietta had moved a few steps away from him and stood beside
+the table, looking down at the things on it, without seeing them.</p>
+
+<p>"But you do not even make religion a pretext," pursued her father. "Have
+you no reason to give? I do not expect a good one, for none can have any
+weight. But I should like to hear the best you have."</p>
+
+<p>"It is a very convincing one to me," Marietta replied, still looking
+down at the table. "But I think I had better not tell it to you to-day,"
+she added. "It would make you angry."</p>
+
+<p>"No," said Beroviero. "One cannot be angry with people who are really
+out of their senses."</p>
+
+<p>"I am not so mad as you think," answered the girl. "I have told you of
+my decision, because it was cowardly of me not to tell you what I felt
+before you went away. But it might be a mistake to tell you more to-day.
+You have had enough to harass you already, since you came back."</p>
+
+<p>"You are suddenly very considerate."</p>
+
+<p>"No, I have not been considerate. I could not be, without acting a lie
+to you, by letting you believe that I meant to marry Messer Jacopo, and
+I will not do that any longer, since I know that it is a lie. But I
+cannot see the use of saying anything more."</p>
+
+<p>"You had better tell me the whole truth, rather than let me think
+something that may be much worse," answered Beroviero, changing his
+attitude.</p>
+
+<p>"There is nothing in the truth of which I am ashamed," said Marietta,
+holding up her head proudly. "I have done nothing which I did not
+believe to be right, however strange it may seem to you."</p>
+
+<p>Once more their eyes met and they gazed steadily at each other; and
+again the blush spread over her cheeks. Beroviero put out his hand and
+touched the folded mantle.</p>
+
+<p>"Marietta," he said, "Zorzi has stolen my precious book of secrets, and
+has disappeared with it. They tell me that he also stole this mantle,
+for it was found here just after he was arrested last night. Is it true,
+or has he stolen my daughter instead?"</p>
+
+<p>Marietta's face had darkened when he began to accuse the absent man. At
+the question that followed she started a little, and drew herself up.</p>
+
+<p>"Zorzi is neither a thief nor a traitor," she answered. "If you mean to
+ask me whether I love him&mdash;is that what you mean?" She paused, with
+flashing eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," answered her father, and his voice shook.</p>
+
+<p>"Then yes! I love him with all my heart, and I have loved him long. That
+is why I will not marry Jacopo Contarini. You know my secret now."</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero groaned aloud, and his head sank as he grasped the arms of the
+chair. His daughter loved the man who had cheated him, betrayed him and
+robbed him. It was almost too much to bear. He had nothing to say, for
+no words could tell what he felt then, and he silently bowed his head.</p>
+
+<p>"As for the accusations you bring against him," Marietta said after a
+moment, "they are false, from first to last, and I can prove to you that
+every one of them is an abominable lie."</p>
+
+<p>"You cannot make that untrue which I have seen with my eyes."</p>
+
+<p>"I can, though Zorzi has the right to prove his innocence himself. I may
+say too much, for I am not as generous as he is. Do you know that when
+they tried to kill him in the furnace room, and lamed him for life, he
+told every one, even me, that it was an accident? He is so brave and
+noble that when he comes here again, he will not tell you that it was
+your own son who tried to rob you, who did everything in his power to
+get Zorzi away from this room, in order to search for your manuscript,
+and who at last, as everything else failed, persuaded the Governor to
+arrest him. He will not tell you that, and he does not know that before
+they had taken him twenty paces from the door, Giovanni was already
+here, locked in and trying the stones with a hammer to find out which
+one covered the precious book. Did Giovanni tell you that this morning?
+No. Zorzi would not tell you all the truth, and I know some of it even
+better than he. But Zorzi was always generous and brave."</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero had lifted his head now and was looking hard at her.</p>
+
+<p>"And your mantle? How came it here?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>There was nothing to be done now, but to speak the truth.</p>
+
+<p>"It is here," said Marietta, growing paler, "because I came here,
+unknown to any one except Pasquale who let me in, because I came alone
+last night to warn the man I love that Giovanni had planned his
+destruction, and to save him if I could. In my haste I left the mantle
+in that chair of yours, in which I had been sitting. It slipped from my
+shoulders as I sat, and there Giovanni must have found it. If you had
+seen it there you would know that what I say is true."</p>
+
+<p>"I did see it," said Beroviero. "Giovanni left it where it was, and I
+folded it myself this morning. Zorzi did not steal the mantle. I take
+back that accusation."</p>
+
+<p>"Nor has he stolen your secrets. Take that back, too, if you are just.
+You always were, till now."</p>
+
+<p>"I have searched the place where he and I put the book, and it is not
+there."</p>
+
+<p>"Giovanni searched it twelve hours earlier, and it was already gone.
+Zorzi saved it from your son, and then, in his rage, I suppose that
+Giovanni accused him of stealing it. He may even have believed it, for I
+can be just, too. But it is not true. The book is safe."</p>
+
+<p>"Zorzi took it with him," said Beroviero.</p>
+
+<p>"You are mistaken. Before he was arrested, he said that I ought to know
+where it was, in case anything happened to him, in order to tell you."</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero rose slowly, staring at her, and speaking with an effort.</p>
+
+<p>"You know where it is? He told you? He has not taken it away?"</p>
+
+<p>Marietta smiled, in perfect certainty of victory.</p>
+
+<p>"I know where it is," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Where is it?" he asked in extreme anxiety, for he could hardly believe
+what he heard.</p>
+
+<p>"I will not tell you yet," was the unexpected answer Marietta gave him.
+"And you cannot possibly find it unless I do."</p>
+
+<p>The veins stood out on the old man's temples in an instant, and the old
+angry fire came back to his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you dare to tell me that you will not show me the place where the
+book is, on the very instant?" he cried.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh yes," answered Marietta. "I dare that, and much more. I am not a
+coward like my brother, you know. I will not tell you the secret till
+you promise me something."</p>
+
+<p>"You are trying to sell me what is my own!" he answered angrily. "You
+are in league with Zorzi against me, to break off your marriage. But I
+will not do it&mdash;you shall tell me where the book is&mdash;if you refuse, you
+shall repent it as long as you live&mdash;I will&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He stopped short in his speech as he met her disdainful look.</p>
+
+<p>"You never threatened me before," she said. "Why do you think that you
+can frighten me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Give me what is mine," said the old man angrily. "That is all I demand.
+I am not threatening."</p>
+
+<p>"Set me free from Messer Jacopo, and you shall have it," answered
+Marietta.</p>
+
+<p>"No. You shall marry him."</p>
+
+<p>"I will not. But I will keep your book until you change your mind, or
+else&mdash;but no! If I gave it to Zorzi, he is so honourable that he would
+bring it back to you without so much as looking into it. I will keep it
+for myself. Or I will burn it!"</p>
+
+<p>She felt that if she had been a man, she could not have taken such an
+unfair advantage of him; but she was a defenceless girl, fighting for
+the liberty of her whole life. That might excuse much, she thought. By
+this time Beroviero was very angry; he stalked up and down beside the
+furnace, trailing his thin silk gown behind him, stroking his beard with
+a quick, impatient movement, and easting fierce glances at Marietta from
+time to time.</p>
+
+<p>He was not used to being at the mercy of circumstances, still less to
+having his mind made up for him by his son and his daughter. Giovanni
+had made him believe that Zorzi had turned traitor and thief, after five
+years of faithful service, and the conviction had cut him to the quick;
+and now Marietta had demonstrated Zorzi's innocence almost beyond doubt,
+but had made matters worse in other ways, and was taking the high hand
+with him. He did not realise that from the moment when she had boldly
+confessed what she had done and had declared her love for Zorzi, his
+confidence in her had returned by quick degrees, and that the atrocious
+crime of having come secretly at night to the laboratory had become in
+his eyes, and perhaps against his will, a mere pardonable piece of
+rashness; since if Zorzi was innocent, anything which could save him
+from unjust imprisonment might well be forgiven. He had borne what
+seemed to him very great misfortunes with fortitude and dignity; but his
+greatest treasures were safe, his daughter and Paolo Godi's manuscript,
+and he became furiously angry with Marietta, because she had him in her
+power.</p>
+
+<p>If a man is seated, a woman who intends to get the better of him
+generally stands; but if he loses his temper and begins to walk about,
+she immediately seats herself and assumes an exasperating calmness of
+manner. Accordingly Marietta sat down on a small chair near the table
+and watched her father in silence, persuaded that he would be obliged to
+yield in the end.</p>
+
+<p>"No one has ever dared to browbeat me in this way, in my whole life!"
+cried the old man fiercely, and his voice shook with rage.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you listen to me?" asked Marietta with sudden meekness.</p>
+
+<p>"Listen to you?" he repeated instantly. "Have I not been listening to
+you for hours?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do not know how long it may have been," answered the girl, "but I
+have much more to say. You are so angry that you will not hear me."</p>
+
+<p>"Angry? I? Are you telling me that I am so beside myself with rage, that
+I cannot understand reason?"</p>
+
+<p>"I did not say that."</p>
+
+<p>"You meant it, then! What did you say? You have forgotten what you said
+already! Just like a girl! And you pretend to argue with me, with your
+own father! It is beyond belief! Silence, I say! Do not answer me!"</p>
+
+<p>Marietta sat quite still, and began to look at her nails, which were
+very pink and well shaped. After a short silence Beroviero stopped
+before her.</p>
+
+<p>"Well!" he cried. "Why do you not speak?" His eyes blazed and he tapped
+the pavement with his foot. She raised her eyebrows, smiled a little
+wearily and sighed.</p>
+
+<p>"I misunderstood you," she said, with exasperating patience. "I thought
+you told me to be silent."</p>
+
+<p>"You always misunderstand me," he answered angrily and walking off
+again. "You always did, and you always will! I believe you do it on
+purpose. But I will make you understand! You shall know what I mean!"</p>
+
+<p>"I should be so glad," said Marietta. "Pray tell me what you mean."</p>
+
+<p>This was too much. He turned sharply in his walk.</p>
+
+<p>"I mean you to marry Contarini," he cried out, with a stamp of the foot.</p>
+
+<p>"And you mean never to see Paolo Godi's manuscript again," suggested
+Marietta quietly.</p>
+
+<p>"Perdition take the accursed thing!" roared the old man. "If I only knew
+where you have put it&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"It is where you can never, never find it," Marietta answered. "So it is
+of no use to be angry with me, is it? The more angry you are, the less
+likely it is that I shall tell you. But I will tell you something else,
+father&mdash;something you never understood before. My marriage was to have
+been a bargain, a great name for a fortune, half your fortune for a
+great name and an alliance with the Contarini. Perhaps one was worth the
+other. I know very little of such things. But it chances that I can have
+a word to say about the bargain, too. Would any one say that I was doing
+very wrong if I gave that book to my brother, for instance? Giovanni
+would not give it back to you, as Zorzi would, I am quite sure."</p>
+
+<p>"What abominable scheme is this?" Beroviero fairly trembled in his fury.</p>
+
+<p>"I offer you a simple bargain," Marietta answered, unmoved. "I will give
+you your manuscript for my freedom. Will you take it, father? Or will
+you insist upon trying to marry me by force, and let me give the book to
+Giovanni? Yes, that is what I will do. Then I will marry Zorzi, and go
+away."</p>
+
+<p>"Silence, child! You! Marry a stranger, a Dalmatian&mdash;a servant!"</p>
+
+<p>"But I love him. You may call him a servant, if you choose. It would
+make no difference to me if it were true. He would not be less brave,
+less loyal or less worthy if he were forced to clean your shoes in order
+to live, instead of sharing your art with you. Did he ever lie to you?"</p>
+
+<p>"No!" cried the old man. "I would have broken his bones!"</p>
+
+<p>"Did he ever betray a secret, since you know that the book is safe?"</p>
+
+<p>"No."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you trusted him far more than your own sons, for many years?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;of course&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Then call him your servant if you like, and call your sons what you
+please," concluded Marietta, "but do not tell me that such a man is not
+good enough to be the husband of a glass-blower's daughter, who does not
+want a great name, nor a palace, nor a husband who sits in the Grand
+Council. Do not say that, father, for it would not be true&mdash;and you
+never told a lie in your life."</p>
+
+<p>"I tell you that marriage has nothing to do with all this!" He began
+walking again, to keep his temper hot, for he was dimly conscious that
+he was getting the worst of the encounter, and that her arguments were
+good.</p>
+
+<p>"And I tell you that a marriage that has nothing to do with love, and
+with honour, and with trust, is no marriage at all!" answered the girl.
+"Say what you please of customs, and traditions, and of station, and all
+that! God never meant that an innocent girl should be bought and sold
+like a slave, or a horse, for a name, nor for money, nor for any
+imaginary advantage to herself or to her father! I know what our
+privilege is, that the patricians may marry us and not lose their rank.
+I would rather keep my own, and marry a glass-worker, even if I were to
+be sold! Do you know what your money would buy for me in Venice? The
+privilege of being despised and slighted by patricians and great ladies.
+You know as well as I that it would all end there, in spite of all you
+may give. They want your money, you want their name, because you are
+rich and you have always been taught to think that the chief use of
+money is to rise in the world."</p>
+
+<p>"Will you teach me what I am to think?" asked old Beroviero, amazed by
+her sudden flow of words.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she answered, before he could say more. "I will teach you what
+you should think, what you should have always thought&mdash;a man as brave
+and upright and honest in everything as you are! You should think, you
+should know, that your daughter has a right to live, a right to be free,
+and a right to love, like every living creature God ever made!"</p>
+
+<p>"This is the most abominable rebellion!" retorted Beroviero. "I cannot
+imagine where you learned&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Rebellion?" she cried, interrupting him in ringing tones. "Yes, it is
+rank rebellion, sedition and revolt against slavery, for life and love
+and freedom! You wonder where I have learned to turn and face this
+oppression of the world, instead of yielding to it, one more unhappy
+woman among the thousands that are bought and sold into wifehood every
+year! I have learned nothing, my heart needed no teaching for that! It
+is enough that I love an honest man truly&mdash;I know that it is wrong to
+promise my faith to another, and that it is a worse wrong in you to try
+to get that promise from me by force. A vow that could be nothing but a
+solemn lie! Would the ring on my finger be a charm to make me forget?
+Would the priest's words and blessing be a spell to root out of my heart
+what is the best part of my life? Better go to a nunnery, and weep for
+the truth, than to hope for peace in such a lie as that&mdash;better a
+thousand, thousand times!"</p>
+
+<p>She had risen now, and was almost eloquent, facing her father with
+flashing eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you have always been kind to me, good to me, dear to me," she went
+on quickly. "It is only in this that you will not understand. Would it
+not hurt you a little to feel that you had sent me to a sort of living
+death from which I could never come back to life? That I was imprisoned
+for ever among people who looked down upon me and only tolerated me for
+my fortune's sake? Yet that would be the very least part of it all! I
+could bear all that, if it were for any good. But to become the
+creature, the possession, the plaything of a man I do not love, when I
+love another with all my heart&mdash;oh, no, no, no! You cannot ask me that!"</p>
+
+<p>His anger had slowly subsided, and he was listening now, not because she
+had him in her power, but because what she said was true. For he was a
+just and honourable man.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish that you might have loved any man but Zorzi," he said, almost as
+if speaking to himself.</p>
+
+<p>"And why another?" she asked, following up her advantage instantly. "You
+would have had me marry a Trevisan, perhaps, or the son of any of the
+other great glass-makers? Is there one of them who can compare with
+Zorzi as an artist, let alone as a man? Look at those things he has
+made, there, on the table! Is there a man living who could make one of
+them? Not you, yourself; you know it better than I do!"</p>
+
+<p>"No," answered Beroviero. "That is true. Nor is there any one who could
+make the glass he used for them without the secrets that are in the
+book&mdash;and more too, for it is better than my own."</p>
+
+<p>Marietta looked at him in surprise. This was something she had not
+known.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it not your glass?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"It is better. He must have added something to the composition set down
+in the book."</p>
+
+<p>"You believe that although the book itself is safe, he has made use of
+it."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I cannot see how it could be otherwise."</p>
+
+<p>"Was the book sealed?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, and looked in an iron box. Here is the key. I always wear it."</p>
+
+<p>He drew out the small iron key, and showed it to her.</p>
+
+<p>"If you find the box locked, and the seals untouched, will you believe
+that Zorzi has not opened the manuscript?" asked Marietta.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," answered Beroviero after a moment's thought. "I showed him the
+seal, and I remember that he said a man might make one like it. But I
+should know by the wax. I am sure I could tell whether it had been
+tampered with. Yes, I should believe he had not opened the book, if I
+found it as I left it."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you will be convinced that Zorzi is altogether innocent of all the
+charges Giovanni made against him. Is that true?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. If he has learnt the art in spite of the law, that is my fault,
+not his. He was unwise in selling the beaker to Giovanni. But what is
+that, after all?"</p>
+
+<p>"Promise me then," said Marietta, laying her hand upon her father's arm,
+"promise me that if Zorzi comes back, he shall be safe, and that you
+will trust him as you always have."</p>
+
+<p>"Though he dares to be in love with you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Though I dare to love him&mdash;or apart from that. Say that if it were not
+for that, you would treat him just as before you went away."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I would," answered Beroviero thoughtfully.</p>
+
+<p>"The book is there," said Marietta.</p>
+
+<p>She pointed to the big earthen jar that contained the broken glass, and
+her father's eyes followed her land.</p>
+
+<p>"It is for Zorzi's sake that I tell you," she continued. "The book is
+buried deep down amongst the broken bits. It will take a long time to
+get it out. Shall I call Pasquale to help us?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," answered her father.</p>
+
+<p>He went to the other end of the room and brought back the crowbar. Then
+he placed himself in a good position for striking, and raised the iron
+high in air with both his hands.</p>
+
+<p>"Stand back!" he cried as Marietta came nearer.</p>
+
+<p>The first blow knocked a large piece of earthenware from the side of the
+strong jar, and a quantity of broken red glass poured out, as red as
+blood from a wound, and fell with little crashes upon the stone floor.
+Beroviero raised the crowbar again and again and brought it down with
+all his might. At the fourth stroke the whole jar went to pieces,
+leaving nothing but a red heap of smashed glass, round about which lay
+the big fragments of the jar. In the middle of the heap, the corner of
+the iron box appeared, sticking up like a black stone.</p>
+
+<p>"At last!" exclaimed the old man, flushed with satisfaction. "Giovanni
+had not thought of this."</p>
+
+<p>He cleared away the shivers and gently pushed the box out of its bed
+with the crowbar. He soon got it out on the floor, and with some
+precaution, lest any stray splinter should cut his fingers, he set it
+upon the table. Then he took the key from his neck and opened it.</p>
+
+<p>Marietta's belief in Zorzi had never wavered, from the first, but
+Beroviero was more than half sure that the book had been opened. He took
+it up with care, turned it over and over in his hands, scrutinised the
+seal, the strings, the knots, and saw that they were all his own.</p>
+
+<p>"It is impossible that this should have been undone and tied up again,"
+he said confidently.</p>
+
+<p>"Any one could see that at once," Marietta answered. "Do you believe
+that Zorzi is innocent?"</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot help believing. But I do not understand. There is the red
+glass, made by dropping the piece of copper into it. That is in the
+book, I am sure."</p>
+
+<p>"It was an accident," said Marietta. "The copper ladle fell into the
+glass. Zorzi told me about it."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you sure? That is possible. The very same thing happened to Paolo
+Godi, and that was how he discovered the colour. But there is the white
+glass, which is so like mine, though it is better. That may have been an
+accident too. Or the boy may have tried an experiment upon mine by
+adding something to it."</p>
+
+<p>"It is at least sure that the book has not been touched, and that is the
+main thing. You admit that he is quite innocent, do you not? Quite,
+quite innocent?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I do. It would be very unjust not to admit it."</p>
+
+<p>Marietta drew a long breath of relief, for she had scarcely hoped to
+accomplish so much in so short a time. The rest would follow, she felt
+sure.</p>
+
+<p>"I would give a great deal to see Zorzi at once," said her father, at
+last, as he replaced the manuscript in the box and shut the lid.</p>
+
+<p>"Not half as much as I would!" Marietta almost laughed, as she spoke.
+"Father," she added gently, and resting one hand upon his shoulder, "I
+have given you back your book, I have given you back the innocent man
+you trusted, instead of the villain invented by my brother. What will
+you give me?"</p>
+
+<p>She smiled and rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. He shook his head
+a little, and would not answer.</p>
+
+<p>"Would it be so hard to say that you ask another year's time before the
+marriage? And then, you know, you could ask it again, and they would
+soon be tired of waiting and would break it off themselves."</p>
+
+<p>"Do not suggest such woman's tricks to me," answered her father; but he
+could not help smiling.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you may find a better way," Marietta said. "But that would be so
+easy, would it not? Your daughter is so young&mdash;her health is somewhat
+delicate&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She was interrupted by a knock at the door, and Pasquale entered.</p>
+
+<p>"The Signor Giovanni is without, sir," said the porter. "He desires to
+take leave of you, as he is returning to his own house to-day."</p>
+
+<p>"Let him come in," said Beroviero, his face darkening all at once.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2>
+
+
+<p>Giovanni entered the laboratory confidently, not even knowing that
+Marietta was with her father, and not suspecting that he could have
+anything to fear from her.</p>
+
+<p>"I have come to take my leave of you, sir," he began, going towards his
+father at once.</p>
+
+<p>He did not see the broken jar, which was at some distance from the door.</p>
+
+<p>"Before you go," said Beroviero coldly, "pray look at this."</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni saw the box on the table, but did not understand, as he had
+never seen it before. His father again took the key from his neck and
+opened the casket.</p>
+
+<p>"This is Paolo Godi's manuscript," he said, without changing his tone.
+"You see, here is the book. The seal is unbroken. It is exactly as I
+left it when Zorzi and I buried it together. You suspected him of having
+opened it, and I confess that you made me suspect him, too. For the sake
+of justice, convince yourself."</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni's face was drawn with lines of vexation and anxiety.</p>
+
+<p>"It was hidden in the jar of broken glass," Beroviero explained. "You
+did not think of looking there."</p>
+
+<p>"No&mdash;nor you, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"I mean that you did not look there when you searched for it alone,
+immediately after Zorzi was arrested."</p>
+
+<p>Giovanni was pale now, but he raised both hands and turned up his eyes
+as if calling upon heaven to witness his innocence.</p>
+
+<p>"I swear to you," he began, "on the body of the blessed Saint Donatus&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero interrupted him.</p>
+
+<p>"I did not ask you to swear by anything," he said. "I know the truth.
+The less you say of what has happened, the better it will be for you in
+the end."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose my sister has been poisoning your mind against me as usual.
+Can she explain how her mantle came here?"</p>
+
+<p>"It does not concern you to know how it came here," answered Beroviero.
+"By your wholly unjustifiable haste, to say nothing worse, you have
+caused an innocent man to be arrested, and his rescue and disappearance
+have made matters much worse. I do not care to ask what your object has
+been. Keep it to yourself, pray, and do not remind me of this affair
+when we meet, for after all, you are my son. You came to take your
+leave, I think. Go home, then, by all means."</p>
+
+<p>Without a word, Giovanni went out, biting his thin lip and reflecting
+mournfully upon the change in his position since he had talked with his
+father in the morning. While they had been speaking Marietta had gone to
+a little distance, affecting to unfold the mantle and fold it again
+according to feminine rules. As she heard the door shut again she
+glanced at her father's face, and saw that he was looking at her.</p>
+
+<p>"I told you that I was learning patience to-day," he said. "I longed to
+lay my hands on him."</p>
+
+<p>"You frightened him much more by what you said," answered Marietta.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps. Never mind! He is gone. The question is how to find Zorzi.
+That is the first thing, and then we must undo the mischief Giovanni has
+done."</p>
+
+<p>"I think Pasquale must have some clue by which we may find Zorzi,"
+suggested Marietta.</p>
+
+<p>Pasquale was called at once. He stood with his legs bowed, holding his
+old cap in both hands, his small bloodshot eyes fixed on his master's
+face with a look of inquiry. He was more than ever like a savage old
+watch-dog.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir," he said in answer to Beroviero's question, "I can tell you
+something. Two men were looking on last night when the Signor Giovanni
+made me open the door to the Governor's soldiers. They wore hoods over
+their eyes, but I am certain that one of them was that Greek captain who
+came here one morning before you went away. When Zorzi came out, the
+Greek walked off, up the footway and past the bridge. The other waited
+till they were all gone and till Signor Giovanni had come in. He
+whispered quickly in my ear, 'Zorzi is safe.' Then he went after the
+others. I could see that he had a short staff hidden under his cloak,
+and that he was a man with bones like an ox. But he was not so big a
+man as the captain. Then I knew that two such men, who were seamen
+accustomed to using their hands, quick on their feet and seeing well in
+the dark, as we all do, could pitch the officer over the tower of San
+Piero, if they chose, with all his sleazy crew of lubberly, dressed-up
+boobies, armed with overgrown boat-hooks. This I thought, and so it
+happened. That is what I know."</p>
+
+<p>"But why should Captain Aristarchi care whether Zorzi were arrested or
+not?" asked Beroviero.</p>
+
+<p>"This the saints may know in paradise," answered Pasquale, "but not I."</p>
+
+<p>"Has the captain been here again?" asked Beroviero, completely puzzled.</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir. But I should have told you that one morning there came a
+patrician of Venice, Messer Zuan Venier, who wished to see you, being a
+friend of Messer Jacopo Contarini, and when he heard that you were away
+he desired to see Zorzi, and stayed some time."</p>
+
+<p>"I know him by name," said Beroviero, nodding. "But there can be no
+connection between him and this Greek."</p>
+
+<p>Pasquale snarled and showed his teeth at the mere idea, for his instinct
+told him that Aristarchi was a pirate, or had been one, and he was by no
+means sure that the Greek had carried off Zorzi for any good purpose.</p>
+
+<p>"Pasquale," said Beroviero, "it is long since you have had a holiday.
+Take the skiff to-morrow morning, and go over to Venice. You are a
+seaman and you can easily find out from the sailors about the Giudecca
+who this Aristarchi really is, and where he lives. Then try to see him
+and tell him that Zorzi is innocent of all the charges against him, and
+that if he will come back I will protect him. Can you do that?"</p>
+
+<p>Pasquale gave signs of great satisfaction, by growling and grinning at
+the same time, and his lids drew themselves into a hundred wrinkles till
+his eyes seemed no bigger than two red Murano beads.</p>
+
+<p>Then Beroviero and Marietta went back to the house, and the young girl
+carried the folded mantle under her cloak. Before going to her own room
+she opened it out, as if it had been worn, and dropped it behind a
+bench-box in the large room, as if it had fallen from her shoulders
+while she had been sitting there; and in due time it was found by one of
+the men-servants, who brought it back to Nella.</p>
+
+<p>"You are so careless, my pretty lady!" cried the serving-woman, holding
+up her hands.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," answered Marietta, "I know it."</p>
+
+<p>"So careless!" repeated Nella. "Nothing has any value for you! Some day
+you will forget your face in the mirror and go away without it, and then
+they will say it is Nella's fault!"</p>
+
+<p>Marietta laughed lightly, for she was happy. It was clear that
+everything was to end well, though it might be long before her father
+would consent to let her marry Zorzi. She felt quite sure that he was
+safe, though he might lie far away by this time.</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero returned at once to the Governor's house, and did his best to
+undo the mischief. But to his unspeakable disappointment he found that
+the Governor's report had already gone to the Council of Ten, so that
+the matter had passed altogether out of his hands. The Council would
+certainly find Zorzi, if he were in Venice, and within two or three
+days, at the utmost, if not within a few hours; for the Signors of the
+Night were very vigilant and their men knew every hiding-place in
+Venice. Zorzi, said the Governor, would certainly be taken into custody
+unless he had escaped to the mainland. Beroviero could have wrung his
+hands for sheer despair, and when he told Marietta the result of his
+second visit to the Governor, her heart sank, for Zorzi's danger was
+greater than ever before, and it was not likely that a man who had been
+so mysteriously rescued, to the manifest injury and disgrace of those
+who were taking him to prison, could escape torture. He would certainly
+be suspected of connivance with secret enemies of the Republic.</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero bethought him of the friends he had in Venice, to whom he
+might apply for help in his difficulty. In the first place there was
+Messer Luigi Foscarini, a Procurator of Saint Mark; but he had not been
+long in office, and he would probably not wish to be concerned in any
+matter which tended to oppose authority. And there was old Contarini,
+who was himself one of the Ten; Beroviero knew his character well and
+judged that he would not be lenient towards any one who had been
+forcibly rescued, no matter how innocent he might be. Moreover the law
+against foreigners who attempted to work in glass was in force, and very
+stringent. Contarini, like many over-wise men who have no control
+whatever over their own children, was always for excessive severity in
+all processes of the law. Beroviero thought of some others, but against
+each one he found some real objection.</p>
+
+<p>Sitting in his chair after supper, he talked earnestly of the matter
+with Marietta, who sat opposite him with her work, by the large brass
+lamp. For the present he had almost forgotten the question of her
+marriage, for all his former affection for Zorzi had returned, with the
+conviction of his innocence, and the case was very urgent. That very
+night Zorzi might be found, and on the next morning he might be brought
+before the Ten to be examined. Marietta thought with terror of the awful
+tales Nella had told her about the little torture chamber behind the
+hall of the Council.</p>
+
+<p>"Who is that Messer Zuan Venier, who came to see Zorzi?" asked Marietta
+suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>"A young man who fought very bravely in the East, I believe," answered
+Beroviero. "His father was the Admiral of the Republic for some time."</p>
+
+<p>"He has talked with Zorzi," said Marietta. "Pasquale said so. He must
+have liked him, of course; and none of the other patricians you have
+mentioned have ever seen him. Messer Zuan is not in office, and has
+nothing to lose. Perhaps he will be willing to use his influence with
+his father. If only the Ten could know the whole truth before Zorzi is
+brought before them, it would be very different."</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero saw that there was some wisdom in applying to a younger man,
+like Zuan Venier, who had nothing at stake, and since Venier had come to
+visit him, there could be nothing strange in his returning the courtesy
+as soon as he conveniently could.</p>
+
+<p>On the following morning therefore the master betook himself to Venice
+in his gondola. Pasquale was already gone in the skiff, on the errand
+entrusted to him. He had judged it best not to put on his Sunday
+clothes, nor his clean shirt, nor to waste time in improving his
+appearance at the barber's, for he had been shaved on Saturday night as
+usual and the week was not yet half over. Hidden in the bow of the
+little boat there lay his provision for the day, half a loaf of bread, a
+thick slice of cheese and two onions, with an earthen bottle of water.
+With these supplies the old sailor knew that he could roam the canals of
+Venice for twenty-four hours if he chose, and he also had some money in
+case it should seem wise to ply an acquaintance with a little strong
+wine in order to promote conversation.</p>
+
+<p>The morning was sultry and a light haze hung over the islands at
+sunrise, which is by no means usual. Pasquale sniffed the air as he
+rowed himself through the narrow canals. There was a mingled smell of
+stagnant salt water, cabbage stalks, water-melons and wood smoke long
+unfamiliar to him, and reminding him pleasantly of his childhood.
+Wherever a bit of stone pier ran along by an open space, scores of
+olive-skinned boys were bathing, and as he passed they yelled at him and
+splashed him. Many a time he had done the same, long ago, and had
+sometimes got a sharp knock from the blade of an oar for his pains.</p>
+
+<p>The high walls made brown shadows, that struck across the greenish
+water, shivering away to long streaks of broken light and shade, and
+trying to dance and rock themselves together for a moment before a
+passing boat disturbed them again. In the shade boats were moored, laden
+with fresh vegetables, and with jars of milk brought in from the islands
+and the mainland before dawn. From open windows, here and there,
+red-haired women with dark eyes looked down idly, and breathed the
+morning air for a few minutes before beginning their household work. The
+bells of Saint John and Saint Paul were ringing to low mass, and a few
+old women with black shawls over their heads, and wooden clogs on their
+feet, made a faint clattering as they straggled to the door.</p>
+
+<p>It was long since Pasquale had been in Venice. He could not remember
+exactly how many years had passed, but the city had changed little, and
+still after many centuries there is but little and slow change. The ways
+and turnings were as familiar to him as ever, and would have been
+unforgotten if he had never taken the trouble to cross the lagoon again,
+to his dying day. The soft sounds, the violent colours, the splendid
+gloom of deep-arched halls that went straight from the great open door
+at the water's edge to the shadowy heart of the palace within; the
+boatmen polishing the metal work of their gondolas with brick dust and
+olive oil; the servants, still in rough working clothes, sweeping the
+steps, and trimming off the charred hemp-wicks of torches that had been
+used in the night; the single woman's voice far overhead that broke the
+silence of some narrow way, singing its song for sheer gladness of an
+idle heart; it was all as it used to be, and Pasquale had a dim
+consciousness that he loved it better than his dreary little den in
+Murano, and better than his Sunday walk as far as San Donato, when all
+the handsome women and pretty girls of the smaller people were laughing
+away the cool hours and showing off their little fineries. It was but a
+vague suggestion of a sentiment with him, and no more. He knew that he
+should starve if he came back to Venice, and what was the pleasant smell
+of the cabbage stalks and water-melons that it should compare with the
+security of daily bread and lodging, with some money to spare, and two
+suits of clothes every year, which his master gave him in return for
+keeping a single door shut?</p>
+
+<p>He pushed out upon the Grand Canal, where as yet there were few boats
+and no gondolas at all, and soon he turned the corner of the Salute and
+rowed out slowly upon the Giudecca, where the merchant vessels lay at
+anchor, large and small, galliots and feluccas and many a broad
+'trabacolo' from the Istrian coast, with huge spreading bows, and hawse
+ports painted scarlet like great red eyes. The old sailor's heart was
+gladdened by the sight of them, and as he rested on his single oar, he
+gently cursed the land, and all landlocked places, and rivers and fresh
+water, and all lakes and inland canals, and wished himself once more on
+the high seas with a stout vessel, a lazy captain, a dozen hard-fisted
+shipmates and a quarter of a century less to his account of years.</p>
+
+<p>He had been dreaming a little, and now he bent to the oar again and sent
+the skiff quietly along by the pier, looking out for any idle seamen who
+might be led into conversation. Before long he spied a couple, sitting
+on the edge of the stones near some steps and fishing with long canes.
+He passed them, of course, without looking at them, lest they should
+suspect that he had come their way purposely, and he made the skiff fast
+by the stair, after which he sat down on a thwart and stared vacantly at
+things in general, being careful not to bestow a glance on the two men.
+Presently one of them caught a small fish, and Pasquale judged that the
+moment for scraping an acquaintance had begun. He turned his head and
+watched how the man unhooked the fish and dropped it flapping into a
+basket made of half-dried rushes.</p>
+
+<p>"There are no whales in the canal," he observed. "There are not even
+tunny fish. But what there is, it seems that you know how to catch."</p>
+
+<p>"I do what I can, according to my little skill," answered the man. "It
+passes the time, and then it is always something to eat with the
+bread."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," Pasquale answered. "A roasted fish on bread with a little oil is
+very savoury. As for passing the time, I suppose that you are looking
+for a ship."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," the man replied. "If we had a ship we should not be here
+fishing! It is a bad time of the year, you must know, for most of the
+Venetian vessels are at sea, and we do not care to ship with any
+Neapolitan captain who chances to have starved some of his crew to
+death!"</p>
+
+<p>"I have heard of a rich Greek merchant captain who has been in Venice
+some time," observed Pasquale carelessly. "He will be looking out for a
+crew before long."</p>
+
+<p>"Is Captain Aristarchi going to sea at last?" asked the man who had not
+spoken yet. "Or do you mean some other captain?"</p>
+
+<p>"That is the name, I believe," said Pasquale. "It was an outlandish name
+like that. Do you ever see him about the docks? I saw him once, a piece
+of man, I tell you, with bones like a bull and a face like a bear."</p>
+
+<p>"He is not often seen," answered the man who had spoken last. "That is
+his ship; over there, between the 'trabacolo' and the dismasted hulk."</p>
+
+<p>"I see her," returned Pasquale at once. "A thorough Greek she is, too,
+by her looks, but well kept enough if she is only, waiting for a cargo,
+with two or three hands on board."</p>
+
+<p>The men laughed a little at Pasquale's ignorance concerning the vessel.</p>
+
+<p>"She has a full crew," said one. "She is always ready for sea at any
+moment, with provisions and water. No one can understand what the
+captain means, nor why he is here, nor why he is willing to pay twenty
+men for doing nothing."</p>
+
+<p>"Does the captain live on board of her?" inquired Pasquale
+indifferently.</p>
+
+<p>"Not he! He is amusing himself in Venice. He has hired a house by the
+month, not far from the Baker's Bridge, and there he has been living for
+a long time."</p>
+
+<p>"He must be very rich," observed Pasquale, who had found out what he
+wished to know, but was too wise to let the conversation drop too
+abruptly. "From what you say, however, he needs no more hands on his
+vessel," he added.</p>
+
+<p>"It is not for us," answered the man. "We will ship with a captain we
+know, and with shipmates from our own country, who are Christians and
+understand the compass."</p>
+
+<p>This he said because all sea-going vessels did not carry a compass in
+those days.</p>
+
+<p>"And until we can pick up a ship we like," added the other man, "we will
+live on bread and water, and if we can catch a fish now and then in the
+canal, so much the better."</p>
+
+<p>Pasquale cast off the bit of line that moored his skiff, shipped his
+single oar, and with a parting word to the men, he pushed off.</p>
+
+<p>"You are quite right!" he said. "Eh! A roast fish is a savoury thing."</p>
+
+<p>They nodded to him and again became intent on their pastime. Pasquale
+rowed faster than before, and he passed close under the stern of the
+Greek vessel. The mate was leaning over the taffrail under the poop
+awning. He was dressed in baggy garments of spotless white, his big blue
+cap was stuck far back on his head, and his strong brown arms were bare
+to the elbow. He looked as broad as he was long.</p>
+
+<p>"Is the captain on board, sir?" asked Pasquale, at a venture, but
+looking at the mate with interest.</p>
+
+<p>He expected that he would answer the question in the negative, by
+sticking out his jaw and throwing his head a little backward. To his
+surprise the mate returned his gaze a moment, and then stood upright.</p>
+
+<p>"Keep under the counter," he said in fairly good Italian. "I will go and
+see if the captain is in his cabin."</p>
+
+<p>Pasquale waited, and in a few moments the mate returned, dropped a
+Jacob's ladder over the taffrail and made it fast on board. Pasquale
+hitched the painter of the skiff to the end that hung down, and went up
+easily enough in spite of his age and stiffened joints. He climbed over
+the rail and stood beside the mate. The instant his feet touched the
+white deck he wished he had put on his Sunday hose and his clean shirt.
+He touched his cap, as he assuredly would not have done ashore, to any
+one but his master.</p>
+
+<p>"You seem to have been a sailor," said the Greek mate, in an approving
+tone.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir," answered Pasquale. "Is Zorzi still safe?"</p>
+
+<p>"The captain will tell you about Zorzi," was the mate's answer, as he
+led the way.</p>
+
+<p>Aristarchi was seated with one leg under him on a inroad transom over
+which was spread a priceless Persian silk carpet, such as the richest
+patrician in Venice would have hung on the wall like a tapestry of great
+value. He looked at Pasquale, and the latter heard the door shut behind
+him. At the same instant a well-known voice greeted him by name, as
+Zorzi himself appeared from the inner cabin.</p>
+
+<p>"I did not expect to find you so soon," said the porter with a growl of
+satisfaction.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you had found him sooner," laughed Aristarchi carelessly. "And
+since you are here, I hope you will carry him off with you and never let
+me see his face again, till all this disturbance is over! I would rather
+have carried off the Doge himself, with his precious velvet night-cap on
+his head, than have taken this fellow the other night. All Venice is
+after him. I was just going to drown him, to get rid of him."</p>
+
+<p>There was a sort of savage good-nature in the Greek's tone which was
+reassuring, in spite of his ferocious looks and words.</p>
+
+<p>"You would have been hanged if you had," observed Pasquale in answer to
+the last words.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi was evidently none the worse for what had happened to him since
+his arrest and unexpected liberation. He was not of the sort that suffer
+by the imagination when there is real danger, for he had plenty of good
+sense. Pasquale told him that the master had returned.</p>
+
+<p>"We knew it yesterday," Zorzi answered. "The captain seems to know
+everything."</p>
+
+<p>"Listen to me, friend porter," Aristarchi said. "If you will take this
+young fellow with you I shall be obliged to you. I took him from the
+Governor's men out of mere kindness of heart, because I liked him the
+first time I saw him, but the Ten are determined to get him into their
+hands, and I have no fancy to go with him and answer for the half-dozen
+crowns my mate and I broke in that frolic at Murano."</p>
+
+<p>Pasquale's small eyes twinkled at the thought of the discomfited
+archers.</p>
+
+<p>"We have changed our lodgings three times since yesterday afternoon,"
+continued Aristarchi, "and I am tired of carrying this lame
+bottle-blower up and down rope ladders, when the Signors of the Night
+are at the door. So drop him over the rail into your boat and let me
+lead a peaceful life."</p>
+
+<p>"Like an honest merchant captain as you are," added Pasquale with a
+grin. "We have been anxious for you," he added, looking at Zorzi. "The
+master is in Venice this morning, to see his friends on your behalf, I
+think."</p>
+
+<p>"If we go back openly," said Zorzi, "we may both be taken at any
+moment."</p>
+
+<p>"If they catch me," answered Pasquale, "they will heave me overboard. I
+am not worth salting. But they need not catch either of us. Once in the
+laboratory at Murano, they will never find you. That is the one place
+where they will not look for you."</p>
+
+<p>The mate put his head down through the small hatch overhead.</p>
+
+<p>"I do not like the look of a boat that has just put off from Saint
+George's," he said.</p>
+
+<p>Aristarchi sprang to his feet.</p>
+
+<p>"Pick him up and drop him into the porter's skiff," he said. "I am sick
+of dancing with the fellow in my arms."</p>
+
+<p>With incredible ease Aristarchi took Zorzi round the waist, mounted the
+cabin table and passed him up through the hatch to the mate, who had
+already brought him to the Jacob's ladder at the stern before Pasquale
+could get there by the ordinary way.</p>
+
+<p>"Quick, man!" said the mate, as the old sailor climbed over the rail.</p>
+
+<p>At the same time he slipped the bight of short rope round Zorzi's body
+under his arms and got a turn round the rail with both parts, so as to
+lower him easily. Zorzi helped himself as well as he could, and in a few
+moments he was lying in the bottom of the skiff, covered with a piece of
+sacking which the mate threw down, the rope ladder was hauled up and
+disappeared, and when Pasquale glanced back as he rowed slowly away, the
+mate was leaning over the taffrail in an attitude of easy unconcern.</p>
+
+<p>The old porter had smuggled more than one bale of rich goods ashore in
+his young days, for a captain who had a dislike of the customs, and he
+knew that his chance of safety lay not in speed, but in showing a cool
+indifference. He might have dropped down the Giudecca at a good rate,
+for the tide was fair, but he preferred a direction that would take him
+right across the course of the boat which the mate had seen coming, as
+if he were on his way to the Lido.</p>
+
+<p>The officer of the Ten, with four men in plain brown coats and leathern
+belts, sat in the stern of the eight-oared launch that swept swiftly
+past the skiff towards the vessels at anchor. Pasquale rested on his oar
+a moment and turned to look, with an air of interest that would have
+disarmed any suspicions the officer might have entertained. But he had
+none, and did not bestow a second glance on the little craft with its
+shabby oarsman. Then Pasquale began to row again, with a long even
+stroke that had no air of haste about it, but which kept the skiff at a
+good speed. When he saw that he was out of hearing of other boats, and
+heading for the Lido, he began to tell what he intended to do next, in a
+low monotonous tone, glancing down now and then at Zorzi's face that
+cautiously peered at him out from the folds of the sackcloth.</p>
+
+<p>"I will tell you when to cover yourself," he said, speaking at the
+horizon. "We shall have to spend the day under one of the islands. I
+have some bread and cheese and water, and there are onions. When it is
+night I will just slip into our canal at Murano, and you can sleep in
+the laboratory, as if you had never left it."</p>
+
+<p>"If they find me there, they cannot say that I am hiding," said Zorzi
+with a low laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Lie low," said Pasquale softly. "There is a boat coming."</p>
+
+<p>For ten minutes neither spoke, and Zorzi lay quite still, covering his
+face. When the danger was past Pasquale began to talk again, and told
+him all he himself knew of what had happened, which was not much, but
+which included the assurance that the master was for him, and had turned
+against Giovanni.</p>
+
+<p>"As for me," said Zorzi, by and by, when they were moored to a stake,
+far out in the lagoon, "I was whirled from place to place by those two
+men, till I did not know where I was. When they first carried me off,
+they made me lie in the bottom of their boat as I am lying now, and they
+took me to a house somewhere near the Baker's Bridge. Do you know the
+house of the Agnus Dei?"</p>
+
+<p>Pasquale grunted.</p>
+
+<p>"It was not far from that," Zorzi continued. "Aristarchi lives there.
+The mate went back to the ship, I suppose, and Aristarchi's servant gave
+us supper. Then we slept quietly till morning and I stayed there all
+day, but Aristarchi thought it would not be safe to keep me in his house
+the next night&mdash;that was last night. He said he feared that a certain
+lady had guessed where I was. He is a mysterious individual, this Greek!
+So I was taken somewhere else in the bottom of a boat, after dark. I do
+not know where it was, but I think it must have been the garret of some
+tavern where they play dice. After midnight I heard a great commotion
+below me, and presently Aristarchi appeared at the window with a rope.
+He always seems to have a coil of rope within reach! He tied me to
+him&mdash;it was like being tied to a wild horse&mdash;and he got us safely down
+from the window to the boat again, and the mate was in it, and they took
+me to the ship faster than I was ever rowed in my life. You know the
+rest."</p>
+
+<p>All through the long July day they lay in the fierce sun, shading
+themselves with the sacking as best they could. But when it was dark at
+last, Pasquale cast off and headed the skiff for Murano.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2>
+
+
+<p>Jacopo Contarini's luck at dice had changed of late, and his friends no
+longer spoke of losing like him, but of winning as he did, on almost
+every throw.</p>
+
+<p>"Nevertheless," said the big Foscari to Zuan Venier, "his love affairs
+seem to prosper! The Georgian is as beautiful as ever, and he is going
+to marry a rich wife."</p>
+
+<p>It was the afternoon of the day on which Zorzi had left Aristarchi's
+ship, and the two patricians were lounging in the shady Merceria, where
+the overhanging balconies of the wooden houses almost met above, and the
+merchants sat below in the windows of their deep shops, on the little
+platforms which were at once counters and window-sills. The street smelt
+of Eastern silks and Spanish leather, and of the Egyptian pastils which
+the merchants of perfumery continually burnt in order to attract custom.</p>
+
+<p>"I am not qualmish," answered Venier languidly, "yet it sickens me to
+think of the life Jacopo means to lead. I am sorry for the glass-maker's
+daughter."</p>
+
+<p>Foscari laughed carelessly. The idea that a woman should be looked upon
+as anything more than a slave or an object of prey had never occurred to
+him. But Venier did not smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Since we speak of glass-makers," he said, "Jacopo is doing his best to
+get that unlucky Dalmatian imprisoned and banished. Old Beroviero came
+to see me this morning and told me a long story about it, which I cannot
+possibly remember; but it seems to me&mdash;you understand!"</p>
+
+<p>He spoke in low tones, for the Merceria was crowded. Foscari, who was
+one of those who took most seriously the ceremonial of the secret
+society, while not caring a straw for its political side, looked very
+grave.</p>
+
+<p>"It is of no use to say that the poor fellow is only a glass-blower,"
+Venier continued. "There are men besides patricians in the world, and
+good men, too. I mean to tell Contarini what I think of it to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"I will, too," said Foscari at once.</p>
+
+<p>"And I intend to use all the influence my family has, to obtain a fair
+hearing for the Dalmatian. I hope you will help me. Amongst us we can
+reach every one of the Council of Ten, except old Contarini, who has the
+soul of a school-master and the intelligence of a crab. If I did not
+like the fellow, I suppose I should let him be hanged several times
+rather than take so much trouble. Sins of omission are my strongest
+point. I have always surprised my confessor at Easter by the
+extraordinary number of things I have left undone."</p>
+
+<p>"I daresay," laughed Foscari, "but I remember that you were not too
+lazy to save me from drowning when I fell into the Grand Canal in
+carnival."</p>
+
+<p>"I forgot that the water was so cold," said Venier. "If I had guessed
+how chilly it was, I should certainly not have pulled you out. There is
+old Hossein at his window. Let us go in and drink sherbet."</p>
+
+<p>"We shall find Mocenigo and Loredan there," answered Foscari. "They
+shall promise to help the glass-blower, too."</p>
+
+<p>They nodded to the Persian merchant, who saluted them by extending his
+hand towards the ground as if to take up dust, and then bringing it to
+his forehead. He was very fat, and his pear-shaped face might have been
+carved out of white cheese. The two young men went in by a small door at
+the side of the window-counter and disappeared into the interior. At the
+back of the shop there was a private room with a latticed window that
+looked out upon a narrow canal. It was one of many places where the
+young Venetians met in the afternoon to play at dice undisturbed, on
+pretence of examining Hossein's splendid carpets and Oriental silks.
+Moreover Hossein's wife, always invisible but ever near, had a
+marvellous gift for making fruit sherbets, cooled with the snow that was
+brought down daily from the mountains on the mainland in dripping bales
+covered with straw matting.</p>
+
+<p>Loredan and Mocenigo were already there, as Foscari had anticipated,
+eating pistachio nuts and sipping sherbet through rice straws out of
+tall glasses from Murano. It was a very safe place, for Hossein's
+knowledge of the Italian language was of a purely commercial character,
+embracing every numeral and fraction, common or uncommon, and the names
+of all the hundreds of foreign coins that passed current in Venice,
+together with half-a-dozen necessary phrases; and his invisible but
+occasionally audible wife understood no Italian at all. Also, Hossein
+was always willing to lend any young patrician money with which to pay
+his losses, at the modest rate of seven ducats to be paid every week for
+the use of each hundred; which one of the youths, who had a turn for
+arithmetic, had discovered to be only about 364 per cent yearly, whereas
+Casadio, the Hebrew, had a method of his own by which he managed to get
+about 580. It was therefore a real economy to frequent Hossein's shop.</p>
+
+<p>In spite of his pretended forgetfulness, Venier remembered every word
+that Beroviero had told him, and indolently as he talked, his whole
+nature was roused to defend Zorzi. In his heart he despised Contarini,
+and hoped that his marriage might never take place, for he was sincerely
+sorry for Marietta; but it was Jacopo's behaviour towards Zorzi that
+called forth his wrath, it was the man's disdainful assumption that
+because Zorzi was not a patrician, the oath to defend every companion of
+the society was not binding where he was concerned; it was the insolent
+certainty that the others should all be glad to be rid of the poor
+Dalmatian, who after all had not troubled them over-much with his
+company. On that very evening they were to meet at the house of the
+Agnus Dei, and Venier was determined to speak his mind. When he chose
+to exert himself, his influence over his companions was very great, if
+not supreme.</p>
+
+<p>He soon brought Mocenigo and Loredan to share his opinion and to promise
+the support of all their many relations in Zorzi's favour, and the four
+began to play, for lack of anything better to do. Before long others of
+the society came in, and as each arrived Venier, who only played in
+order not to seem as unsociable as he generally felt, set down the dice
+box to gain over a new ally. An hour had passed when Contarini himself
+appeared, even more magnificent than usual, his beautiful waving beard
+most carefully trimmed and combed as if to show it to its greatest
+advantage against the purple silk of a surcoat cut in a new fashion and
+which he was wearing for the first time. His white hands were splendid
+with jewelled rings, and he wore at his belt a large wallet-purse
+embroidered in Constantinople before the coming of the Turks and adorned
+with three enamelled images of saints. Hossein himself ushered him in,
+as if he were the guest of honour, as the Persian merchant indeed
+considered him, for none of the others had ever paid him half so many
+seven weekly ducats for money borrowed in all their lives, as Jacopo had
+often paid in a single year.</p>
+
+<p>There are men whom no one respects very highly, who are not sincerely
+trusted, whose honour is not spotless and whose ways are far from
+straight, but who nevertheless hold a certain ascendancy over others, by
+mere show and assurance. When Contarini entered a place where many were
+gathered together, there was almost always a little hush in the talk,
+followed by a murmur that was pleasant in his ear. No one paused to look
+at Zuan Venier when he came into a room, though there was not one of his
+friends who would not have gone to him in danger or difficulty, without
+so much as thinking of Contarini as a possible helper in trouble. But it
+was almost impossible not to feel a sort of artistic surprise at
+Jacopo's extraordinary beauty of face and figure, if not at the splendid
+garments in which he delighted to array himself.</p>
+
+<p>It was with a slight condescension that he greeted the group of players,
+some of whom at once made a place for him at the table. They had been
+ready enough to stand by Venier against him in Zorzi's defence, but
+unless Venier led the way, there was not one of them who would think of
+opposing him, or taking him to task for what was very like a betrayal.
+Venier returned his greeting with some coldness, which Contarini hardly
+noticed, as his reception by the others had been sufficiently
+flattering. Then they began to play.</p>
+
+<p>Jacopo won from the first. Foscari bent his heavy eyebrows and tugged at
+his beard angrily, as he lost one throw after another; the cold sweat
+stood on Mocenigo's forehead in beads, as he risked more and more, and
+Loredan's hand trembled when it was his turn to take up the dice box
+against Contarini; for they played a game in which each threw against
+all the rest in succession.</p>
+
+<p>"You cannot say that the dice are loaded," laughed Contarini at last,
+"for they are your own!"</p>
+
+<p>"The delicacy of the thought is only exceeded by the good taste that
+expresses it," observed Venier.</p>
+
+<p>"You are sarcastic, my friend," answered Jacopo, shaking the dice. "It
+is your turn with me."</p>
+
+<p>Jacopo threw first. Venier followed him and lost.</p>
+
+<p>"That is my last throw," he said, as he pushed the remains of his small
+heap of gold across to Contarini. "I have no more money to-day, nor
+shall I have to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>"Hossein has plenty," suggested Foscari, who hoped that Contarini's luck
+would desert him before long.</p>
+
+<p>"At this rate you will need all he has," returned Venier with a careless
+laugh.</p>
+
+<p>Before long more than one of the players was obliged to call in the
+ever-complacent Persian merchant, and the heap of gold grew in front of
+Jacopo, till he could hardly keep it together.</p>
+
+<p>"It is true that you have been losing for years," said Mocenigo, trying
+to laugh, "but we did not think you would win back all your losses in a
+day."</p>
+
+<p>"You shall have your revenge to-night," answered Contarini, rising. "I
+am expected at a friend's house at this hour."</p>
+
+<p>His large wallet was so full of gold that he could hardly draw the
+strong silken strings together and tie them.</p>
+
+<p>"A friend's house!" laughed Loredan, who had lost somewhat less than the
+others. "It would give us much delight to know the colour of the lady's
+hair!"</p>
+
+<p>To this Contarini answered only by a smile, which was not devoid of
+satisfaction.</p>
+
+<p>"Take care!" said Foscari, gloomily contemplating the bare table before
+him, over which so much of his good gold had slipped away. "Take care!
+Luck at play, mischance in love, says the proverb."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! In that case I congratulate you, my dear friend!" returned
+Contarini gaily.</p>
+
+<p>The others laughed at the retort, and the party broke up, though all did
+not go at once. Venier went out alone, while two or three walked with
+Contarini to his gondola. The rest stayed behind in the shop and made
+old Hossein unroll his choicest carpets and show them his most precious
+embroideries, though he protested that it was already much too dark to
+appreciate such choice things. But they did not wish to be seen coming
+away in a body, for such playing was very strictly forbidden, and the
+spies of the Ten were everywhere.</p>
+
+<p>Contarini dismissed his gondola at the house of the Agnus Dei, and was
+admitted by the trusted servant who had once taken a message to Zorzi.
+He found Arisa waiting for him in her favourite place by the open
+window, and the glow of the setting sun made little fires in her golden
+hair. She could tell by his face that he had been fortunate at play, and
+her smile was very soft and winning. As he sank down beside her in the
+luxurious silence of satisfaction, her fingers were stealthily trying
+the weight of his laden wallet. She could not lift it with one hand. She
+smiled again, as she thought how easily Aristarchi would carry the money
+in his teeth, well tied and knotted in a kerchief, when he slipped down
+the silk rope from her window, though it would be much wiser to exchange
+it for pearls and diamonds which Contarini might see and admire, and
+which she could easily take with her in her final flight.</p>
+
+<p>He trusted her, too, in his careless way, and that night, when he was
+ready to go down and admit his companions, he would empty most of the
+gold into a little coffer in which he often left the key, taking but
+just enough to play with, and almost sure of winning more.</p>
+
+<p>She was very gentle on that evening, when the sun had gone down, and
+they sat in the deepening dusk, and she spoke sadly of not seeing him
+for several hours. It would be so lonely, she said, and since he could
+play in the daytime, why should he give up half of one precious night to
+those tiresome dice? He laughed indolently, pleased that she should not
+even suspect the real object of the meetings.</p>
+
+<p>By and by, when it was an hour after dark, and they had eaten of
+delicate things which a silent old woman brought them on small silver
+platters, Contarini went down to let in his guests, and Arisa was alone,
+as usual on such evenings. For a long time she lay quite still among the
+cushions, in the dark, for Jacopo had taken the light with him. She
+loved to be in darkness, as she always told him, and for very good
+reasons, and she had so accustomed herself to it as to see almost as
+well as Aristarchi himself, for whom she was waiting.</p>
+
+<p>At last she heard the expected signal of his coming, the soft and
+repeated splashing of an oar in the water just below the window. In a
+moment she was in the inner room, to receive him in her straining arms,
+longing to be half crushed to death in his. But to-night, even as he
+held her in the first embrace of meeting, she felt that something had
+happened, and that there was a change in him. She drew him to the little
+light that burned in her chamber before the image, and looked into his
+face, terrified at the thought of what she might see there. He smiled at
+her and raised his shaggy eyebrows as if to ask if she really distrusted
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," he said, nodding his big head slowly, "something has happened.
+You are quick at guessing. We are going to-night. There is moonlight and
+the tide will serve in two or three hours. Get ready what you need and
+put together the jewels and the money."</p>
+
+<p>"To-night!" cried Arisa, very much surprised. "To-night? Do you really
+mean it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I am in earnest. Michael has emptied my house of all my belongings
+to-day and has taken the keys back to the owner. We have plenty of time,
+for I suppose those overgrown boys are playing at dice downstairs, and I
+think I shall take leave of Contarini in person."</p>
+
+<p>"You are capable of anything!" laughed Arisa. "I should like to see you
+tear him into little strips, so that every shred should keep alive to be
+tortured!"</p>
+
+<p>"How amiable! What gentle thoughts you have! Indeed, you women are sweet
+creatures!"</p>
+
+<p>With her small white hand she jestingly pretended to box his huge ears.</p>
+
+<p>"You would be well paid if I refused to go with you," she said with a
+low laugh. "But I should like to know why you have decided so suddenly.
+What is the matter? What is to become of all our plans, and of
+Contarini's marriage? Tell me quickly!"</p>
+
+<p>"I have had a visit from an officer of the Ten to-day," he said. "The
+Ten send me greeting, as it were, and their service, and kindly invite
+me to leave Venice within twenty-four hours. As the Ten are the only
+persons in Venice for whom I have the smallest respect, I shall show it
+by accepting their invitation."</p>
+
+<p>"But why? What have you done?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course it is not a serious matter to give a sound beating to an
+officer of justice and six of his men," answered Aristarchi, "but it is
+not the custom here, and they suspect me of having done it. To tell the
+truth, I think I am hardly treated. I have sent Zorzi back to Murano,
+and if the Ten have the sense to look for him where he has been living
+for five years, they will find him at once, at work in that stifling
+furnace-room. But I fancy that is too simple for them."</p>
+
+<p>He told her how Pasquale had come in the morning, and how the officer
+who had been in pursuit of him had searched the ship for Zorzi in vain.
+The order to leave Venice had come an hour later. The anchors were now
+up, and the vessel was riding to a kedge by a light hawser, well out in
+the channel. As soon as Arisa could be brought on board Aristarchi meant
+to make sail, for the strong offshore breeze would blow all night.</p>
+
+<p>"We may as well leave nothing behind," said Aristarchi coolly. "Michael
+will wait for us below, in one of the ship's boats. There is room for
+all Contarini's possessions, if we could only get at them."</p>
+
+<p>"Would it not be better to be content with what we have already, and to
+go at once?" asked Arisa rather timidly.</p>
+
+<p>"No," replied Aristarchi. "I am going to say good-bye to your old friend
+in my own way."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mean to kill him?" asked Arisa in a whisper, though it was quite
+safe for them to talk in natural tones. "I could go behind him and throw
+something over his head."</p>
+
+<p>Aristarchi grinned, and pressed her beautiful head to his breast,
+caressing her with his rough hands.</p>
+
+<p>"You are as bloodthirsty as a little tigress," he said. "No. I do not
+even mean to hurt him."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I hoped you would," answered the Georgian woman. "I have hated him
+so long. Will you not kill him, just to please me? We could wind him in
+a sheet with a weight, you know, and drop him into the canal, and no one
+would ever know. I have often thought of it."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you, my gentle little sweetheart?" Aristarchi chuckled with
+delight as he stroked her hair. "I am sorry," he continued. "The fact
+is, I am not a Georgian like you. I have been brought up among people of
+civilisation, and I have scruples about killing any one. Besides, sweet
+dove, if we were to kill the son of one of the Council of Ten, the
+Council would pursue us wherever we went, for Venice is very powerful.
+But the Ten will not lift a hand to revenge a good-for-nothing young
+gamester whose slave has run away with her first love! Every one will
+laugh at Contarini if he tries to get redress. It is better to laugh
+than to be laughed at, it is better to be laughed at than to cry, it is
+better to cry one's eyes blind than to be hanged."</p>
+
+<p>Having delivered himself of these opinions Aristarchi began to look
+about him for whatever might be worth the trouble of carrying off, and
+Arisa collected all her jewels from the caskets in which they were kept,
+and little bags of gold coins which she had hidden in different places.
+She also lit a candle and brought Aristarchi to the small coffer in
+which Contarini kept ready gold for play, and which was now more than
+half full.</p>
+
+<p>"The dowry of the glass-maker's daughter!" observed the Greek as he
+carried it off.</p>
+
+<p>There were small objects of gold and silver on the tables in the large
+room, there was a dagger with a jewelled hilt, an illuminated mass book
+in a chased silver case.</p>
+
+<p>"You will need it on Sundays at sea," said Aristarchi.</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot read," said the Georgian slave regretfully. "But it will be a
+consolation to have the missal."</p>
+
+<p>Aristarchi smiled and tossed the book upon the heap of things.</p>
+
+<p>"It would be amusing to pay a visit to those young fools downstairs, and
+to take all their money and leave them locked up for the night," he
+said, as if a thought had struck him.</p>
+
+<p>"There are too many of them," answered Arisa, laying her hand anxiously
+upon his arm. "And they are all armed. Please do nothing so foolish."</p>
+
+<p>"If they are all like Contarini, I do not mind twenty of them or so,"
+laughed Aristarchi. "They must have more than a thousand gold ducats
+amongst them. That would be worth taking."</p>
+
+<p>"They are not all like Contarini," said Arisa. "There is Zuan Venier,
+for instance."</p>
+
+<p>"Zuan Venier? Is he one of them? I have heard of him. I should like to
+see whether he could be frightened, for they say it is impossible."</p>
+
+<p>Aristarchi scratched his head, pushing his shaggy hair forward over his
+forehead, as he tried to think of an effectual scheme for producing the
+desired result.</p>
+
+<p>"The Ten might pursue us for that, as well as for a murder," said Arisa.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile the friends assembled in the room downstairs had been occupied
+for a long time in hearing what Zuan Venier had to say to Jacopo
+Contarini, concerning the latter's treatment of Zorzi. For Venier had
+kept his word, and as soon as all were present he had boldly spoken his
+mind, in a tone which his friends were not accustomed to hear. At first
+Contarini had answered with offended surprise, asking what concern it
+could be of Venier's whether a miserable glass-blower were exiled or
+not, and he appealed to the others, asking whether it would not be far
+better for them all that such an outsider as Zorzi should be banished
+from Venice. But Venier retorted that the Dalmatian had taken the same
+oath as the rest of the company, that he was an honest man, besides
+being a great artist as his master asseverated, and that he had the same
+right to the protection of each and all of them as Contarini himself. To
+the latter's astonishment this speech was received with unanimous
+approbation, and every man present, except Contarini, promised his help
+and that of his family, so far as he might obtain it.</p>
+
+<p>"I have advised Beroviero," Venier then continued, "if he can find the
+young artist, to make him go before the Council of Ten of his own free
+will, taking some of his works with him. And now that this question is
+settled, I propose to you all that our society cease to have any
+political or revolutionary aim whatever, for I am of opinion that we are
+risking our necks for a game at dice and for nothing else, which is
+childish. The only liberty we are vindicating, so far as I can see, is
+that of gaming as much as we please, and if we do that, and nothing
+more, we shall certainly not go between the red columns for it. A fine
+or a few months of banishment to the mainland would be the worst that
+could happen. As things are now, we are not only in danger of losing
+our heads at any moment, which is an affair of merely relative
+importance, but we may be tempted to make light of a solemn promise,
+which seems to me a very grave matter."</p>
+
+<p>Thereupon Venier looked round the table, and almost all the men were of
+his opinion. Contarini flushed angrily, but he knew himself to be in the
+wrong and though he was no coward, he had not the sort of temper that
+faces opposition for its own sake. He therefore began to rattle the dice
+in the box as a hint to all that the discussion was at an end.</p>
+
+<p>But his good fortune seemed gone, and instead of winning at almost every
+throw, as he had won in the afternoon, he soon found that he had almost
+exhausted the heap of gold he had laid on the table, and which he had
+thought more than enough. He staked the remainder with Foscari, who won
+it at a cast, and laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"You offered us our revenge," said the big man. "We mean to take it!"</p>
+
+<p>But though Contarini was not a good fighter, he was a good gamester, and
+never allowed himself to be disturbed by ill-luck. He joined in the
+laugh and rose from the table.</p>
+
+<p>"You must forgive me," he said, "if I leave you for a moment. I must
+fill my purse before I play again."</p>
+
+<p>"Do not stay too long!" laughed Loredan. "If you do, we shall come and
+get you, and then we shall know the colour of the lady's hair."</p>
+
+<p>Contarini laughed as he went to the door, opened it and stealthily set
+the key in the lock on the outside.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall lock you in while I am gone!" he cried. "You are far too
+inquisitive!"</p>
+
+<p>Laughing gaily he turned the key on the whole company, and he heard
+their answering laughter as he went away, for they accepted the jest,
+and continued playing.</p>
+
+<p>He entered the large room upstairs, just as Aristarchi had finished
+tying up the heavy bundle in the inner chamber. Arisa heard the
+well-known footstep, and placed one hand over Aristarchi's mouth, lest
+he should speak, while the other pointed to the curtained door. The
+Greek held his breath.</p>
+
+<p>"Arisa! Arisa!" Contarini called out. "Bring me a light, sweetest!"</p>
+
+<p>Without hesitation Arisa took the lighted candle, and making a gesture
+of warning to Aristarchi went quickly to the other room. The Greek crept
+towards the door, the big veins standing out like knots on his rugged
+temples, his great hands opened wide, with the tips of the fingers a
+little turned in. He was like a wrestler ready to get his hold with a
+spring.</p>
+
+<p>"I want some more money," Contarini was saying, in explanation. "They
+said they would follow me if I stayed too long, so I have locked them
+in! I think I shall keep them waiting a while. What do you say, love?"</p>
+
+<p>He laughed again, aloud, and on the other side of the curtain Aristarchi
+grinned from ear to ear and noiselessly loosened the black sash he wore
+round his waist. For once in his life, as Zorzi would have said, he had
+not a coil of rope at hand when he needed it, but the sash was strong
+and would serve the purpose. He pushed the curtain aside, a very little,
+in order to see before springing.</p>
+
+<p>Contarini stood half turned away from the door, clasping Arisa to his
+breast and kissing her hair. The next moment he was sprawling on the
+floor, face downwards, and Arisa was pressing one of the soft cushions
+from the divan upon his head to smother his cries, while Aristarchi
+bound his hands firmly together behind him with one end of the long
+sash, and in spite of his desperate struggle got a turn with the rest
+round both his feet, drew them back as far as he could and hitched the
+end twice. Jacopo was now perfectly helpless, but he was not yet dumb.
+Aristarchi had brought his tools with him, in the bosom of his doublet.</p>
+
+<p>Kneeling on Contarini's shoulders he took out a small iron instrument,
+shaped exactly like a pear, but which by a screw, placed where the stem
+would be, could be made to open out in four parts that spread like the
+petals of a flower. Arisa looked on with savage interest, for she
+believed that it was some horrible instrument of torture; and indeed it
+was the iron gag, the 'pear of anguish,' which the torturers used in
+those days, to silence those whom they called their patients.</p>
+
+<p>Holding the instrument closed, Aristarchi pushed his hand under the
+cushion. He knew that Contarini's mouth would be open, as he must be
+half suffocated and gasping for breath. In an instant the iron pear had
+slipped between his teeth and had opened its relentless leaves, obedient
+to the screw.</p>
+
+<p>"Take the pillow away," said Aristarchi quietly. "We can say good-bye to
+your old acquaintance now, but he will have to content himself with
+nodding his head in a friendly way."</p>
+
+<p>He turned the helpless man upon his side, for owing to the position of
+his heels and hands Contarini could not lie on his back. Then Aristarchi
+set the candle on the floor near his face and looked at him and indulged
+himself in a low laugh. Contarini's face was deep red with rage and
+suffocation, and his beautiful brown eyes were starting from their
+sockets with a terror which increased when he saw far the first time the
+man with whom he had to deal, or rather who was about to deal with him,
+and most probably without mercy. Then he caught sight of Arisa, smiling
+at him, but not as she had been wont to smile. Aristarchi spoke at last,
+in an easy, reassuring tone.</p>
+
+<p>"My friend," he said, "I am not going to hurt you any more. You may
+think it strange, but I really shall not kill you. Arisa and I have
+loved each other for a long time, and since she has lived here, I have
+come to her almost every night. I know your house almost as well as you
+do, and you have kindly told me that your friends are all looked in. We
+shall therefore not have the trouble of leaving by the window, since we
+can go out by the front door, where my boat will be waiting for us. You
+will never see us again."</p>
+
+<p>Contarini's eyes rolled wildly, and still Arisa smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"You have made him suffer," she said. "He loved me."</p>
+
+<p>"Before we go," continued the Greek, folding his arms and looking down
+upon his miserable enemy, "I think it fair to warn you that under the
+praying-stool in Arisa's room there is an air shaft through which we
+have heard all your conversation, during these secret meetings of yours.
+If you try to pursue us, I shall send information to the Ten, which will
+cut off most of your heads. As they are so empty it might seem to be
+scarcely worth while to take them, but the Ten know best. I can rely on
+your discretion. If I were not sure of it I would accede to this dear
+lady's urgent request and cut you up into small pieces."</p>
+
+<p>Contarini writhed and sputtered, but could make no sound.</p>
+
+<p>"I promised not to hurt you any more, my friend, and I am a man of my
+word. But I have long admired your hair and beard. You see I was in
+Saint Mark's when you went there to meet the glass-maker's daughter, and
+I have seen you at other times. I should be sorry never to see such a
+beautiful beard again, so I mean to take it with me, and if you will
+keep quiet, I shall really not hurt you."</p>
+
+<p>Thereupon he produced from his doublet a bright pair of shears, and
+knelt down by the wretched man's head. Contarini twisted himself as be
+might and tried instinctively to draw his head away.</p>
+
+<p>"I have heard that pirates sometimes accidentally cut off a prisoner's
+ear," said Aristarchi. "If you will not move, I am quite sure that I
+shall not be so awkward as to do that."</p>
+
+<p>Contarini now lay motionless, and Aristarchi went to work. With the
+utmost neatness he cropped off the silky hair, so close to Jacopo's
+skull that it almost looked as if it had been shaved with a razor. In
+the same way he clipped the splendid beard away, and even the brown
+eyebrows, till there was not a hair left on Contarini's head or face.
+Then he contemplated his work, and laughed at the weak jaw and the
+womanish mouth.</p>
+
+<p>"You look like an ugly woman in man's clothes," he said, by way of
+consoling his victim.</p>
+
+<p>He rose now, for he feared lest Contarini's friends might break open the
+door downstairs. He shouldered the heavy bundle with ease, set his blue
+cap on the back of his head and bade Arisa go with him. She had her
+mantle ready, but she could not resist casting delighted glances at her
+late owner's face. Before going, she knelt down one moment by his side,
+and inclined her face to his, with a very loving gaze. Lower and lower
+she bent, as if she would give him a parting kiss, till Aristarchi
+uttered an exclamation. Then she laughed cruelly, and with the back of
+her hand struck the lips that had so often touched her own.</p>
+
+<p>A few moments later Aristarchi had placed her in his boat, the heavy
+bundle of spoils lay at her feet, and the craft shot swiftly from the
+door of the house of the Agnus Dei. For Michael Pandos, the mate, had
+been waiting under the window, and a stroke of the oars brought him to
+the steps.</p>
+
+<p>In the closed room where the friends were playing dice, there began to
+be some astonishment at the time needed by Jacopo to replenish his
+purse. When more than half an hour had passed one pair stopped playing,
+and then another, until they were all listening for some sound in the
+silent house. The perfect stillness had something alarming in it, and
+none of them fully trusted Contarini.</p>
+
+<p>"I think," said Venier with all his habitual indolence, "that it is time
+to ascertain the colour of the lady's hair. Can you break the lock?"</p>
+
+<p>He spoke to Foscari, who nodded and went to the door with two or three
+others. In a few seconds it flew open before their combined attack, and
+they almost lost their balance as they staggered out into the dark hall.
+The rest brought lights and they all began to go up the stairs together.
+The first to enter the room was Foscari. Venier, always indifferent, was
+among the last.</p>
+
+<p>Foscari started at the extraordinary sight of a man in magnificent
+clothes, lying on one shoulder, with his heels tied up to his hands and
+his shorn head and face moving slowly from side to side in the bright
+light of the wax candle that stood on the floor. The other men crowded
+into the room, but at first no one recognised the master of the house.
+Then all at once Foscari saw the rings on his fingers.</p>
+
+<p>"It is Contarini," he cried, "and somebody has shaved his head!"</p>
+
+<p>He burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter, in which the others
+joined, till the house rang again, and the banished servants came
+running down to see what was the matter.</p>
+
+<p>Only Zuan Venier, a compassionate smile on his face, knelt beside
+Contarini and carefully withdrew the iron gag from his mouth.</p>
+
+<p>At the same instant Aristarchi's hatchet chopped through the hawser by
+which his vessel was riding, and he took the helm himself to steer her
+out through the narrow channel before the wind.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII</h2>
+
+
+<p>When Pasquale had let Zorzi in, he crossed the canal again, moored the
+skiff with lock and chain, and came back by the wooden bridge. Zorzi
+went on through the corridor and came out into the moonlit garden. It
+was hard to believe that only forty-eight hours had passed since he had
+left it, but the freshly dug earth told him of Giovanni's search, about
+which Pasquale had told him, and there was the pleasant certainty that
+the master had come home and could probably protect him, even against
+the Ten. Besides this, he felt stronger and more able to move than since
+he had been injured, and he was sure that he could now walk with only a
+stick to help him, though he was always to be lame. He had looked up at
+Marietta's window before leaving the boat, but it was dark, for Pasquale
+had wished to be sure that no one should see Zorzi and it was long past
+the young girl's bedtime.</p>
+
+<p>Pasquale came back, and produced some more bread and cheese from his
+lodge, for both men were hungry. They sat down on the bench under the
+plane-tree and ate their meagre supper together in silence, for they had
+talked much during the long day. Then Pasquale bade Zorzi good night and
+went away, and Zorzi went into the laboratory, where all was dark. But
+he knew every brick of the furnace and every stone of the pavement under
+his feet, and in a few minutes he was fast asleep in his own bed,
+feeling as safe as if the Ten had never existed and as though the
+Signors of the Night were not searching every purlieu of Venice to take
+him into custody. And early in the morning he got up, and Pasquale
+brought him water as of old, and as his hose and doublet had suffered
+considerably during his adventures, he put on the Sunday ones and came
+out into the garden to breathe the morning air. Pasquale had no
+intention of going over to the house to announce Zorzi's return, for he
+was firmly convinced that the most simple way of keeping a secret was
+not to tell it, and before long the master would probably come over
+himself to ask for news.</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero brought Marietta with him, as he often did, and when they were
+within he naturally stopped to question Pasquale about his search, while
+Marietta went on to the garden. The porter took a long time to shut the
+door, and instead of answering Beroviero, shook his ugly head
+discontentedly, and muttered imprecations on all makers of locks,
+latches, bolts, bars and other fastenings, living, dead and yet unborn.
+So it came to pass that Marietta came upon Zorzi suddenly and alone,
+when she least expected to meet him.</p>
+
+<p>He was standing by the well-remembered rose-bush, leaning on his stick
+with one hand and lifting up a trailing branch with the other. But when
+he heard Marietta's step he let the branch drop again and stood waiting
+for her with happy eyes. She uttered a little cry, that was almost of
+fear, and stopped short in her walk, for in the first instant she could
+have believed that she saw a vision; then she ran forward with
+outstretched hands, and fell into his arms as he dropped his stick to
+catch her. As her head touched his shoulder, her heart stopped beating
+for a moment, she gasped a little, and seemed to choke, and then the
+tears of joy flowed from her eyes, her pulses stirred again, and all was
+well. He felt a tremor in his hands and could not speak aloud, but as he
+held her he bent down and whispered something in her ear; and she smiled
+through the shower of her happy tears, though he could not see it, for
+her face was hidden.</p>
+
+<p>Just then Beroviero entered from the corridor, followed by Pasquale, and
+the two old men stood still together gazing at the young lovers. It was
+on that very spot that the master, when going upon his journey, had told
+Zorzi how he wished he were his son. But now he forgot that he had said
+it, and the angry blood rushed to his forehead.</p>
+
+<p>"How dare you?" he cried, as he made a step to go on towards the pair.</p>
+
+<p>They heard his voice and separated hastily. Marietta's fresh cheek
+blushed like red roses, and she looked down, as shamefacedly as any
+country maid, but Zorzi turned white as he stooped to pick up his stick,
+then stood quite upright and met her father's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"How dare you, I say?" repeated the old man fiercely.</p>
+
+<p>"I love her, sir," Zorzi answered without fear for himself, but with
+much apprehension for Marietta.</p>
+
+<p>"And have you forgotten that I love him, father?" asked Marietta,
+looking up but still blushing. "You know, I told you all the truth, and
+you were not angry then. At least, you were not so very angry," she
+added, shyly correcting herself.</p>
+
+<p>"If she has told you, sir," Zorzi began, "let me&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"You can tell me nothing I do not know," cried Beroviero, "and nothing I
+wish to hear! Be off! Go to the laboratory and begin work. I will speak
+with my daughter."</p>
+
+<p>Then Pasquale's voice was heard.</p>
+
+<p>"A furnace without a fire is like a ship without a wind," he said. "It
+might as well be anything else."</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero looked towards the old porter indignantly, but Pasquale had
+already begun to move and was returning to his lodge, uttering strange
+and unearthly sounds as he went, for he was so happy that he was really
+trying to hum a tune. The master turned to the lovers again. Zorzi had
+withdrawn a step or two, but showed no signs of going further.</p>
+
+<p>"If you are going to tell me that I must change my mind," said Marietta,
+"and that it is a shame to love a penniless glass-blower&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Silence!" cried the old man, stroking his beard fiercely. "How can you
+presume to guess what I may or may not say about your shameless conduct?
+Did I not see him kissing you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I daresay, for he did," answered Marietta, raising her eyebrows and
+looking down in a resigned way. "And it is not the first time, either,"
+she added, shaking her head and almost laughing.</p>
+
+<p>"The insolence!" cried Beroviero. "The atrocious boldness!"</p>
+
+<p>"Sir," said Zorzi, coming nearer, "there is only one remedy for it. Give
+me your daughter for my wife&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Upon my faith, this is too much! You know that Marietta is betrothed to
+Messer Jacopo Contarini&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I have told you that I will not marry him," said Marietta quietly, "so
+it is just as if I had never been betrothed to him."</p>
+
+<p>"That is no reason for marrying Zorzi," retorted Beroviero. "A pretty
+match for you! Angelo Beroviero's daughter and a penniless foreigner who
+cannot even be allowed to work openly at his art!"</p>
+
+<p>"If I go away," Zorzi answered quietly, "I may soon be as rich as you,
+sir."</p>
+
+<p>At this unexpected statement Beroviero opened his eyes in real
+astonishment, while Zorzi continued.</p>
+
+<p>"You have your secrets, sir, and I have kept them safe for you. But I
+have one of my own which is as valuable as any of yours. Did you find
+some pieces of my work in the annealing oven? I see that they are on the
+table now. Did you notice that the glass is like yours, but finer and
+lighter?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, if it is, what then?" asked Beroviero. "It was an accident. You
+mixed something with some of my glass&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"No," answered Zorzi, "it is altogether a composition of my own. I do
+not know how you mix your materials. How should I?"</p>
+
+<p>"I believe you do," said Beroviero. "I believe you have found it out in
+some way&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi had produced a piece of folded paper from his doublet, and now
+held it up in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"I am not bargaining with you, sir, for you are a man of honour. Angelo
+Beroviero will not rob me, after having been kind to me for so many
+years. This is my secret, which I discovered alone, with no one's help.
+The quantities are written out very exactly, and I am sure of them.
+Read what is written there. By an accident, I may have made something
+like your glass, but I do not believe it."</p>
+
+<p>He held out the paper. Beroviero's manner changed.</p>
+
+<p>"You were always an honourable fellow, Zorzi. I thank you."</p>
+
+<p>He opened the paper and looked attentively at the contents. Marietta saw
+his surprise and interest and took the opportunity of smiling at Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>"It is altogether different from mine," said Beroviero, looking up and
+handing back the document.</p>
+
+<p>"Is there fortune in that, sir, or not?" asked Zorzi, confident of the
+reply. "But you know that there is, and that whenever I go, if I can get
+a furnace, I shall soon be a rich man by the glass alone, without even
+counting on such skill as I have with my hands."</p>
+
+<p>"It is true," answered the master, nodding his head thoughtfully. "There
+are many princes who would willingly give you the little you need in
+order to make your fortune."</p>
+
+<p>"The little that Venice refuses me!" said Zorzi with some bitterness.
+"Am I presuming so much, then, when I ask you for your daughter's hand?
+Is it not in my power, or will it not be very soon, to go to some other
+city, to Milan, or Florence&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"No, no!" cried Beroviero. "You shall not take her away&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He stopped short, realising that he had betrayed what had been in his
+mind, since he had seen the two standing there, clasped in one another's
+arms, namely, that in spite of him, or with his blessing, his daughter
+would before long be married to the man she loved.</p>
+
+<p>"Come, come!" he said testily. "This is sheer nonsense!"</p>
+
+<p>He made a step forward as if to break off the situation by going away.</p>
+
+<p>"If you would rather that I should not leave you, sir," said Zorzi, "I
+will stay here and make my glass in your furnace, and you shall sell it
+as if it were your own."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, father, say yes!" cried Marietta, clasping her hands upon the old
+man's shoulder. "You see how generous Zorzi is!"</p>
+
+<p>"Generous!" Beroviero shook his head. "He is trying to bribe me, for
+there is a fortune in his glass, as he says. He is offering me a
+fortune, I tell you, to let him marry you!"</p>
+
+<p>"The fortune which Messer Jacopo had made you promise to pay him for
+condescending to be my husband!" retorted Marietta triumphantly. "It
+seems to me that of the two, Zorzi is the better match!"</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero stared at her a moment, bewildered. Then, in half-comic
+despair he clapped both his hands upon his ears and shook himself gently
+free from her.</p>
+
+<p>"Was there ever a woman yet who could not make black seem white?" he
+cried. "It is nonsense, I tell you! It is all arrant nonsense! You are
+driving me out of my senses!"</p>
+
+<p>And thereupon he went off down the garden path to the laboratory,
+apparently forgetting that his presence alone could prevent a repetition
+of that very offence which had at first roused his anger. The door
+closed sharply after him, with energetic emphasis.</p>
+
+<p>At the same moment Marietta, who had been gazing into Zorzi's eyes, felt
+that her own sparkled with amusement, and her father might almost have
+heard her sweet low laugh through the open window at the other end of
+the garden.</p>
+
+<p>"That was well done," she said. "Between us we have almost persuaded
+him."</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi took her willing hand and drew her to him, and she was almost as
+near to him as before, when she straightened herself with quick and
+elastic grace, and laughed again.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no!" she said. "If he were to look out and see us again, it would
+be too ridiculous! Come and sit under the plane-tree in the old place.
+Do you remember how you stared at the trunk and would not answer me when
+I tried to make you speak, ever so long ago? Do you know, it was because
+you would not say&mdash;what I wanted you to say&mdash;that I let myself think
+that I could marry Messer Jacopo. If you had only known what you were
+doing!"</p>
+
+<p>"If I had only known!" Zorzi echoed, as they reached the place and
+Marietta sat down.</p>
+
+<p>They were within sight of the window, but Beroviero did not heed them.
+He was seated in his own chair, in deep thought, his elbows resting on
+the wooden arms, his fingers pressing his temples on each side, thinking
+of his daughter, and perhaps not quite unaware that she was talking to
+the only man he had ever really trusted.</p>
+
+<p>"I must tell you something, Zorzi," she was saying, as she looked up
+into the face she loved. "My father told me last night what he had done
+yesterday. He saw Messer Zuan Venier&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi showed his surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"Pasquale told my father that he had been here to see you. Very well,
+this Messer Zuan advised that if you could be found, you should be
+persuaded to go before the tribunal of the Ten of your own free will, to
+tell your story. And he promised to use all his influence and that of
+all his friends in your favour."</p>
+
+<p>"They will not change the law for me," Zorzi replied, in a hopeless
+way.</p>
+
+<p>"If they could hear you, they would make a special decree," said
+Marietta. "You could tell them your story, you could even show them some
+of the beautiful things you have made. They would understand that you
+are a great artist. After all, my father says that one of their most
+especial duties is to deal with everything that concerns Murano and the
+glass-works. Do you think that they will banish you, now that you have a
+secret of your own, and can injure us all by setting up a furnace
+somewhere else? There is no sense in that! And if you go of your own
+free will, they will hear you kindly, I think. But if you stay here,
+they will find you in the end, and they will be very angry then, because
+you will have been hiding from them."</p>
+
+<p>"You are wise," Zorzi answered. "You are very wise."</p>
+
+<p>"No, I love you."</p>
+
+<p>She spoke softly and glanced at the open window, and then at his face.</p>
+
+<p>"Truly?"</p>
+
+<p>He smiled happily as he whispered his question in one word, and he was
+resting a hand on the trunk of the tree, just as he had been standing on
+the day she remembered so well.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, you know it now!" she answered, with bright and trusting eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"One may know a song well, and yet long to hear it again and again."</p>
+
+<p>"But one cannot be always singing it oneself," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"I could never make it ring as sweetly as you," Zorzi answered.</p>
+
+<p>"Try it! I am tired of hearing my voice&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"But I am not! There is no voice like it in the world. I shall never
+care to hear another, as long as I live, nor any other song, nor any
+other words. And when you are weary of saying them, I shall just say
+them over in my heart, 'She loves me, she loves me,'&mdash;all day long."</p>
+
+<p>"Which is better," Marietta asked, "to love, or to know that you are
+loved?"</p>
+
+<p>"The two thoughts are like soul and body," Zorzi answered. "You must not
+part them."</p>
+
+<p>"I never have, since I have known the truth, and never shall again."</p>
+
+<p>Then they were silent for a while, but they hardly knew it, for the
+world was full of the sweetest music they had ever heard, and they
+listened together.</p>
+
+<p>"Zorzi!"</p>
+
+<p>The master was at the window, calling him. He started a little as if
+awaking and obeyed the summons as quickly as his lameness would allow.
+Marietta looked after him, watching his halting gait, and the little
+effort he made with his stick at each step. For some secret reason the
+injury had made him more dear to her, and she liked to remember how
+brave he had been.</p>
+
+<p>He found Beroviero busy with his papers, and the results of the year's
+experiments, and the old man at once spoke to him as if nothing unusual
+had happened, telling him what to do from time to time, so that all
+might be put in order against the time when the fires should be lighted
+again in September. By and by two men came carrying a new earthen jar
+for broken glass, and all fragments in which the box had lain were
+shovelled into it, and the pieces of the old one were taken away. The
+furnace was not quite cool even yet, and the crucibles might remain
+where they were for a few days; but there was much to be done, and Zorzi
+was kept at work all the morning, while Marietta sat in the shade with
+her work, often looking towards the window and sometimes catching sight
+of Zorzi as he moved about within.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile the story of Contarini's mishap had spread in Venice like
+wildfire, and before noon there was hardly one of all his many relations
+and friends who had not heard it. The tale ran through the town, told by
+high and low, by Jacopo's own trusted servant, and the old woman who had
+waited on Arisa, and it had reached the market-place at an early hour,
+so that the ballad-makers were busy with it. For many had known of the
+existence of the beautiful Georgian slave and the subject was a good one
+for a song&mdash;how she had caressed him to sleep and fostered his foolish
+security while he loved her blindly, and how she and her mysterious
+lover had bound him and shaved his head and face and made him a
+laughing-stock, so that he must hide himself from the world for months,
+and moreover how they had carried away by night all the precious gifts
+he had heaped upon the woman since he had bought her in the
+slave-market.</p>
+
+<p>Last of all, his father heard it when he came home about an hour before
+noon from the sitting of the Council of Ten, of which he was a member
+for that year. He found Zuan Venier waiting in the hall of his house,
+and the two remained closeted together for some time. For the young man
+had promised Jacopo to tell old Contarini, though it was an ungrateful
+errand, and one which, the latter might remember against him. But it was
+a kind action, and Venier performed it as well as he could, telling the
+story truthfully, but leaving out all such useless details as might
+increase the father's anger.</p>
+
+<p>At first indeed the old man brought his hand down heavily upon the
+table, and swore that he would never see his son again, that he would
+propose to the Ten to banish him from Venice, that he would disinherit
+him and let him starve as he deserved, and much more to the same effect.
+But Venier entreated him, for his own dignity's sake, to do none of
+these things, but to send Jacopo to his villa on the Brenta river, where
+he might devote himself in seclusion to growing his hair and beard
+again; and Zuan represented that if he reappeared in Venice after many
+months, not very greatly changed, the adventure would be so far
+forgotten that his life among his friends would be at least bearable, in
+spite of the ridicule to which he would now and then be exposed for the
+rest of his life, whenever any one chose out of spite to mention
+barbers, shears, razors, specifies for causing the hair to grow, or
+Georgians, in his presence. Further, Venier ventured to suggest to
+Contarini that he should at once break off the marriage arranged with
+Beroviero, rather than expose himself to the inevitable indignity of
+letting the step be taken by the glass-maker, who, said Venier, would as
+soon think of giving his daughter to a Turk as to Jacopo, since the
+latter's graceless doings had been suddenly held up to the light as the
+laughing-stock of all Venice.</p>
+
+<p>In making this suggestion Venier had followed the suggestion of his own
+good sense and good feeling, and Contarini not only accepted the
+proposal but was in the utmost haste to act upon it, fearing lest at any
+moment a messenger might come over from Murano with the news that
+Beroviero withdrew his consent to the marriage. Venier almost dictated
+the letter which Contarini wrote with a trembling hand, and he promised
+to deliver it himself, and if necessary to act as ambassador.</p>
+
+<p>Beroviero had already called to Marietta that it was time to go home,
+though the mid-day bells had not yet rung out the hour, when Pasquale
+appeared in the garden and announced that Venier was waiting in his
+gondola and desired an immediate interview on a matter of importance.</p>
+
+<p>He would have come on Contarini's behalf, if for no other reason, but he
+had spent much time that morning in laying Zorzi's case before his
+friends and all the members of the Grand Council who could have any
+special influence with the Ten, or with the aged Doge, who, although in
+his eightieth year, frequently assisted in person at their meetings, and
+whose Counsellors were always present. He was now almost sure of
+obtaining a favourable hearing for Zorzi, and wished to see Beroviero,
+for he was still in ignorance of Zorzi's return to the glass-house
+during the night.</p>
+
+<p>Marietta was told to go into the deserted building, containing the main
+furnaces, now extinguished, for it was not fitting that she should be
+seen by a patrician whom she did not know, sitting in the garden as if
+she were a mere serving-woman whose face needed no veil. She ran away
+laughing and hid herself in the passage where she had spent moments of
+anguish on the night of Zorzi's arrest, and she waved a kiss to him,
+when her father was not watching.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi waited at the door of the laboratory, while Beroviero waited
+within, standing by the table to receive his honourable visitor. When
+Zorzi saw Venier's expression of astonishment on seeing him, he smiled
+quietly, but offered no audible greeting, for he did not know what was
+expected of him. But Venier took his hand frankly and held it a moment.</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad to find you here," he said, less indolently than he usually
+spoke. "I have good news for you, if you will take my advice."</p>
+
+<p>"The master has already told me what it is," Zorzi answered. "I am ready
+to give myself up whenever you think best. I have not words to thank
+you."</p>
+
+<p>"I do not like many words," answered Venier. "But if there is anything I
+dislike more, it is thanks. I have some private business with Messer
+Angelo first. Afterwards we can all three talk together."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV</h2>
+
+
+<p>Zorzi sat on a low bench, blackened with age, against the whitewashed
+wall of a small and dimly lighted room, which was little more than a
+cell, but was in reality the place where prisoners waited immediately
+before being taken into the presence of the Ten. It was not far from the
+dreaded chamber in which the three Chiefs sometimes heard evidence given
+under torture, the door was closed and two guards paced the narrow
+corridor outside with regular and heavy steps, to which Zorzi listened
+with a beating heart. He was not afraid, for he was not easily
+frightened, but he knew that his whole future life was in the balance,
+and he longed for the decisive moment to come. He had surrendered on the
+previous day, and Beroviero had given a large bond for his appearance.</p>
+
+<p>There were witnesses of all that had happened. There was the lieutenant
+of the archers, with his six men, some of whom still showed traces of
+their misadventure. There was Giovanni, whom the Governor had forced to
+appear, much against his will, as the principal accuser by the letter
+which had led to Zorzi's arrest, and the letter itself was in the hands
+of the Council's secretary. But there was also Pasquale, who had seen
+Zorzi go away quietly with the soldiers, and who could speak for his
+character; and Angelo Beroviero was there to tell the truth as far as he
+knew it.</p>
+
+<p>But Zorzi was not to be confronted with any of these witnesses: neither
+with the soldiers who would tell the Council strange stories of devils
+with blue noses and fiery tails, nor with Giovanni, whose letter called
+him a liar, a thief and an assassin, nor with Beroviero nor Pasquale.
+The Council never allowed the accused man and the witnesses for or
+against him to be before them at the same time, nor to hold any
+communication while the trial lasted. That was a rule of their
+procedure, but they were not by any means the mysterious body of malign
+monsters which they have too often been represented to be, in an age
+when no criminal trials could take place without torture.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi waited on his bench, listening to the tread of the guards. As many
+trials occupied more than one day, his case would come up last of all,
+and the witnesses would all be examined before he himself was called to
+make his defence. He was nervous and anxious. Even while he was sitting
+there, Giovanni might be finding out some new accusation against him or
+the officer of archers might be accusing him of witchcraft and of having
+a compact with the devil himself. He was innocent, but he had broken the
+law, and no doubt many an innocent man had sat on that same bench before
+him, who had never again returned to his home. It was not strange that
+his lips should be parched, and that his heart should be beating like a
+fuller's hammer.</p>
+
+<p>At last the footsteps ceased, the key ground and creaked as it turned,
+and the door was opened. Two tall guards stood looking at him, and one
+of them motioned to him to come. He could never afterwards remember the
+place through which he was made to pass, for the blood was throbbing in
+his temples so that he could hardly see. A door was opened and closed
+after him, and he was suddenly standing alone in the presence of the
+Ten, feeling that he could not find a word to say if he were called upon
+to speak.</p>
+
+<p>A kindly voice broke the silence that seemed to have lasted many
+minutes.</p>
+
+<p>"Is this the person whom we are told is in league with Satan?"</p>
+
+<p>It was the Doge himself who spoke, nodding his hoary head, as very old
+men do, and looking at Zorzi's face with gentle eyes, almost colourless
+from extreme age.</p>
+
+<p>"This is the accused, your Highness," replied the secretary from his
+desk, already holding in his hand Giovanni's letter.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi saw that the Council of Ten was much more numerous than its name
+implied. The Councillors were between twenty and thirty, sitting in a
+semicircle, against a carved wooden wainscot, on each side of the aged
+Doge, Cristoforo Moro, who had yet one more year to live. There were
+other persons present also, of whom one was the secretary, the rest
+being apparently there to listen to the proceedings and to give advice
+when they were called upon to do so.</p>
+
+<p>In spite of the time of year, the Councillors were all splendidly robed
+in the red velvet mantles, edged with ermine, and the velvet caps which
+made up the state dress of all patricians alike, and the Doge wore his
+peculiar cap and coronet of office. Zorzi had never seen such an
+assembly of imposing and venerable men, some with long grey beards, some
+close shaven, all grave, all thoughtful, all watching him with quietly
+scrutinising eyes. He stood leaning a little on his stick, and he
+breathed more freely since the dreaded moment was come at last.</p>
+
+<p>Some one bade the secretary read the accusation, and Zorzi listened with
+wonder and disgust to Giovanni's long epistle, mentally noting the
+points which he might answer, and realising that if the law was to be
+interpreted literally, he had undoubtedly rendered himself liable to
+some penalty.</p>
+
+<p>"What have you to say?" inquired the secretary, looking up from the
+paper with a pair of small and piercing grey eyes. "The Supreme Council
+will hear your defence."</p>
+
+<p>"I can tell the truth," said Zorzi simply, and when he had spoken the
+words he was surprised that his voice had not trembled.</p>
+
+<p>"That is all the Supreme Council wishes to hear," answered the
+secretary. "Speak on."</p>
+
+<p>"It is true that I am a Dalmatian," Zorzi said, "and by the laws of
+Venice, I should not have learned the art of glass-blowing. I came to
+Murano more than five years ago, being very poor, and Messer Angelo
+Beroviero took me in, and let me take care of his private furnace, at
+which he makes many experiments. In time, he trusted me, and when he
+wished something made, to try the nature of the glass, he let me make
+it, but not to sell such things. At first they were badly made, but I
+loved the art, and in short time I grew to be skilful at it. So I
+learnt. Sirs&mdash;I crave pardon, your Highness, and you lords of the
+Supreme Council, that is all I have to tell. I love the glass, and I can
+make light things of it in good design, because I love it, as the
+painter loves his colours and the sculptor his marble. Give me glass,
+and I will make coloured air of it, and gossamer and silk and lace. It
+is all I know, it is my art, I live in it, I feel in it, I dream in it.
+To my thoughts, and eyes and hands, it is what the love of a fair woman
+is to the heart. While I can work and shape the things I see when I
+close my eyes, the sun does, not move, the day has no time, winter no
+clouds, and summer no heat. When I am hindered I am in exile and in
+prison, and alone."</p>
+
+<p>The Doge nodded his head in kindly approbation.</p>
+
+<p>"The young man is a true artist," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"All this," said one of the Chiefs of the Ten, "would be well if you
+were a Venetian. But you are not, and the accusation says that you have
+sold your works to the injury of born Venetians. What have you to say?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sometimes my master has given me money for a beaker, or a plate, or a
+bottle," answered Zorzi, in some trepidation, for this was the main
+point. "But the things were then his own. How could that do harm to any
+one, since no one can make what I can make, for the master's own use?
+And once, the other day, as the Signor Giovanni's letter says there, he
+persuaded me to take his piece of gold for a beaker he saw in my hand,
+and I said that I would ask the master, when he came back, whether I
+might keep the money or not; and besides, I left the piece of money on
+the table in my master's laboratory, and the beaker in the annealing
+oven, when they came to arrest me. That is the only work for which I
+ever took money, except from the master himself."</p>
+
+<p>"Why did the Greek captain Aristarchi beat the Governor's men, and carry
+you away?" asked another of the Chiefs.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi was not surprised that the name of his rescuer should be known,
+for the Ten were believed to possess universal intelligence.</p>
+
+<p>"I do not know," he answered quite simply. "He did not tell me, while he
+kept me with him. I had only seen him once before that night, on a day
+when he came to treat with the master for a cargo of glass which he
+never bought. I gave myself up to the archers, as I gave myself up to
+your lordships, for I thought that I should have justice the sooner if I
+sought it instead of trying to escape from it."</p>
+
+<p>"Your Highness," said one of the oldest Councillors, addressing the
+Doge, "is it not a pity that such a man as this, who is a good artist
+and who speaks the truth, should be driven out of Venice, by a law that
+was not meant to touch him? For indeed, the law exists and always will,
+but it is meant to hinder strangers from coming to Murano and learning
+the art in order to take it away with them, and this we can prevent. But
+we surely desire to keep here all those who know how to practise it, for
+the greater advantage of our commerce with other nations."</p>
+
+<p>"That is the intention of our laws," assented the Doge.</p>
+
+<p>"Your Highness! My lords!" cried Zorzi, who had taken courage from what
+the Councillor had said, "if this law is not made for such as I am, I
+entreat you to grant me your forgiveness if I have broken it, and make
+it impossible for me to break it again. My lords, you have the power to
+do what I ask. I beseech you that I may be permitted to work at my art
+as if I were a Venetian, and even to keep fires in a small furnace of my
+own, as other workmen may when they have saved money, that I may labour
+to the honour of all glass-makers, and for the good reputation of
+Murano. This is what I most humbly ask, imploring that it may be granted
+to me, but always according to your good pleasure."</p>
+
+<p>When he had spoken thus, asking all that was left for him to desire and
+amazed at his own boldness, he was silent, and the Councillors began to
+discuss the question among themselves. At a sign from the Chiefs the urn
+into which the votes were cast was brought and set before the Doge; for
+all was decided by ballot with coloured balls, and no man knew how his
+neighbour voted.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you anything more to say?" asked the secretary, again speaking to
+Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>"I have said all, save to thank your Highness and your lordships with
+all my heart," answered the Dalmatian.</p>
+
+<p>"Withdraw, and await the decision of the Supreme Council."</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi cast one more glance at the great half circle of venerable men, at
+their velvet robes, at the carved wainscot, at the painted vault above,
+and after making a low obeisance he found his way to the door, outside
+which the guards were waiting. They took him back to a cell like the one
+where he had already sat so long, but which was reached by another
+passage, for everything in the palace was so disposed as to prevent the
+possibility of one prisoner meeting another on his way to the tribunal
+or coming from it; and for this reason the Bridge of Sighs, which was
+then not yet built, was afterwards made to contain two separate
+passages.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed a long time before the tread of guards ceased again and the
+door was opened, and Zorzi rose as quickly as he could when he saw that
+it was the secretary of the Ten who entered, carrying in his hand a
+document which had a seal attached to it.</p>
+
+<p>"Your prayer is granted," said the man with the sharp grey eyes. "By
+this patent the Supreme Council permits you to set up a glass-maker's
+furnace of your own in Murano, and confers upon you all the privileges
+of a born glass-blower, and promises you especial protection if any one
+shall attempt to interfere with your rights."</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi took the precious parchment eagerly, and he felt the hot blood
+rushing to his face as he tried to thank the secretary. But in a moment
+the busy personage was gone, after speaking a word to the guards, and
+Zorzi heard the rustling of his silk gown in the corridor.</p>
+
+<p>"You are free, sir," said one of the guards very civilly, and holding
+the door open.</p>
+
+<p>Zorzi went out in a dream, finding his way he knew not how, as he
+received a word of direction here and there from soldiers who guarded
+the staircases. When he was aware of outer things he was standing under
+the portico that surrounds the courtyard of the ducal palace. The broad
+parchment was unrolled in his hands and his eyes were puzzling over the
+Latin words and the unfamiliar abbreviations; on one side of him stood
+old Beroviero, reading over his shoulder with absorbed interest, and on
+the other was Zuan Venier, glancing at the document with the careless
+certainty of one who knows what to expect. Two steps away Pasquale
+stood, in his best clothes and his clean shirt, for he had been one of
+the witnesses, and he was firmly planted on his bowed legs, his long
+arms hanging down by his sides; his little red eyes were fixed on
+Zorzi's face, his ugly jaw was set like a mastiff's, and his
+extraordinary face seemed cut in two by a monstrous smile of delight.</p>
+
+<p>"It seems to be in order," said Venier, politely smothering with his
+gloved hand the beginning of a yawn.</p>
+
+<p>"I owe it to you, I am sure," answered Zorzi, turning grateful eyes to
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"No, I assure you," said the patrician. "But I daresay it has made us
+all change our opinion of the Ten," he added with a smile. "Good-bye.
+Let me come and see you at work at your own furnace before long. I have
+always wished to see glass blown."</p>
+
+<p>Without waiting for more, he walked quickly away, waving his hand after
+he had already turned.</p>
+
+<p>It was noon when Zorzi had folded his patent carefully and hidden it in
+his bosom, and he and Beroviero and Pasquale went out of the busy
+gateway under the outer portico. Beroviero led the way to the right, and
+they passed Saint Mark's in the blazing sun, and the Patriarch's palace,
+and came to the shady landing, the very one at which the old man and his
+daughter had got out when they had come to the church to meet Contarini.
+The gondola was waiting there, and Beroviero pushed Zorzi gently before
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"You are still lame," he said. "Get in first and sit down."</p>
+
+<p>But Zorzi drew back, for a woman's hand was suddenly thrust out of the
+little window of the 'felse,' with a quick gesture.</p>
+
+<p>"There is a lady inside," said Zorzi.</p>
+
+<p>"Marietta is in the gondola," answered Beroviero with a smile. "She
+would not stay at home. But there is room for us all. Get in, my son."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="NOTE" id="NOTE"></a>NOTE</h2>
+
+<p>The story of Zorzi Ballarin and Marietta Beroviero is not mere fiction,
+and is told in several ways. The most common account of the
+circumstances assumes that Zorzi actually stole the secrets which Angelo
+Beroviero had received from Paolo Godi, and thereby forced Angelo to
+give him his daughter in marriage; but the learned Comm. C.A. Levi,
+director of the museum in Murano, where many works of Beroviero and
+Ballarin are preserved, has established the latter's reputation for
+honourable dealing with regard to the precious secrets, in a pamphlet
+entitled "L'Arte del Vetro in Murano," published in Venice, in 1895, to
+which I beg to refer the curious reader. I have used a novelist's
+privilege in writing a story which does not pretend to be historical. I
+have taken eleven years from the date on which Giovanni Beroviero wrote
+his letter to the Podest&agrave; of Murano, and the letter itself, though
+similar in spirit to the original, is differently worded and covers
+somewhat different ground; I have also represented Zorzi as standing
+alone in his attempt to become an independent glass-blower, whereas
+Comm. Levi has discovered that he had two companions, who were
+Dalmatians, like himself. There is no foundation in tradition for the
+existence of Arisa the Georgian slave, but it is well known that
+beautiful Eastern slaves were bought and sold in Venice and in many
+other parts of Italy even at a much later date.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Marietta, by F. Marion Crawford
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Marietta
+       A Maid of Venice
+
+
+Author: F. Marion Crawford
+
+
+
+Release Date: June 21, 2005  [eBook #16100]
+[Most recently updated: December 22, 2005]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARIETTA***
+
+
+E-text prepared by John Hagerson, Kevin Handy, Chuck Greif, and the
+Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+(https://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+The Novels of F. Marion Crawford
+In Twenty-five Volumes--Authorized Edition
+
+MARIETTA
+
+A Maid of Venice
+
+by
+
+F. MARION CRAWFORD
+
+With Frontispiece
+
+P. F. Collier & Son
+New York
+
+1901
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "I AM NOT ASLEEP."--_Marietta: A Maid of Venice_.]
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+Very little was known about George, the Dalmatian, and the servants in
+the house of Angelo Beroviero, as well as the workmen of the latter's
+glass furnace, called him Zorzi, distrusted him, suggested that he was
+probably a heretic, and did not hide their suspicion that he was in love
+with the master's only daughter, Marietta. All these matters were
+against him, and people wondered why old Angelo kept the waif in his
+service, since he would have engaged any one out of a hundred young
+fellows of Murano, all belonging to the almost noble caste of the
+glass-workers, all good Christians, all trustworthy, and all ready to
+promise that the lovely Marietta should never make the slightest
+impression upon their respectfully petrified hearts. But Angelo had not
+been accustomed to consider what his neighbours might think of him or
+his doings, and most of his neighbours and friends abstained with
+singular unanimity from thrusting their opinions upon him. For this,
+there were three reasons: he was very rich, he was the greatest living
+artist in working glass, and he was of a choleric temper. He confessed
+the latter fault with great humility to the curate of San Piero each
+year in Lent, but he would never admit it to any one else. Indeed, if
+any of his family ever suggested that he was somewhat hasty, he flew
+into such an ungovernable rage in proving the contrary that it was
+scarcely wise to stay in the house while the fit lasted. Marietta alone
+was safe. As for her brothers, though the elder was nearly forty years
+old, it was not long since his father had given him a box on the ears
+which made him see simultaneously all the colours of all the glasses
+ever made in Murano before or since. It is true that Giovanni had
+timidly asked to be told one of the secrets for making fine red glass
+which old Angelo had learned long ago from old Paolo Godi of Pergola,
+the famous chemist; and these secrets were all carefully written out in
+the elaborate character of the late fifteenth century, and Angelo kept
+the manuscript in an iron box, under his own bed, and wore the key on a
+small silver chain at his neck.
+
+He was a big old man, with fiery brown eyes, large features, and a very
+pale skin. His thick hair and short beard had once been red, and streaks
+of the strong colour still ran through the faded locks. His hands were
+large, but very skilful, and the long straight fingers were discoloured
+by contact with the substances he used in his experiments.
+
+He was jealous by nature, rather than suspicious. He had been jealous of
+his wife while she had lived, though a more devoted woman never fell to
+the lot of a lucky husband. Often, for weeks together, he had locked
+the door upon her and taken the key with him every morning when he left
+the house, though his furnaces were almost exactly opposite, on the
+other side of the narrow canal, so that by coming to the door he could
+have spoken with her at her window. But instead of doing this he used to
+look through a little grated opening which he had caused to be made in
+the wall of the glass-house; and when his wife was seated at her window,
+at her embroidery, he could watch her unseen, for she was beautiful and
+he loved her. One day he saw a stranger standing by the water's edge,
+gazing at her, and he went out and threw the man into the canal. When
+she died, he said little, but he would not allow his own children to
+speak of her before him. After that, he became almost as jealous of his
+daughter, and though he did not lock her up like her mother, he used to
+take her with him to the glass-house when the weather was not too hot,
+so that she should not be out of his sight all day.
+
+Moreover, because he needed a man to help him, and because he was afraid
+lest one of his own caste should fall in love with Marietta, he took
+Zorzi, the Dalmatian waif, into his service; and the three were often
+together all day in the room where Angelo had set up a little furnace
+for making experiments. In the year 1470 it was not lawful in Murano to
+teach any foreign person the art of glass-making; for the glass-blowers
+were a sort of nobility, and nearly a hundred years had passed since the
+Council had declared that patricians of Venice might marry the
+daughters of glass-workers without affecting their own rank or that of
+their children. But old Beroviero declared that he was not teaching
+Zorzi anything, that the young fellow was his servant and not his
+apprentice, and did nothing but keep up the fire in the furnace, and
+fetch and carry, grind materials, and sweep the floor. It was quite true
+that Zorzi did all these things, and he did them with a silent
+regularity that made him indispensable to his master, who scarcely
+noticed the growing skill with which the young man helped him at every
+turn, till he could be entrusted to perform the most delicate operations
+in glass-working without any especial instructions. Intent upon artistic
+matters, the old man was hardly aware, either, that Marietta had learned
+much of his art; or if he realised the fact he felt a sort of jealous
+satisfaction in the thought that she liked to be shut up with him for
+hours at a time, quite out of sight of the world and altogether out of
+harm's way. He fancied that she grew more like him from day to day, and
+he flattered himself that he understood her. She and Zorzi were the only
+beings in his world who never irritated him, now that he had them always
+under his eye and command. It was natural that he should suppose himself
+to be profoundly acquainted with their two natures, though he had never
+taken the smallest pains to test this imaginary knowledge. Possibly, in
+their different ways, they knew him better than he knew them.
+
+The glass-house was guarded from outsiders as carefully as a nunnery,
+and somewhat resembled a convent in having no windows so situated that
+curious persons might see from without what went on inside. The place
+was entered by a low door from the narrow paved path that ran along the
+canal. In a little vestibule, ill-lighted by one small grated window,
+sat the porter, an uncouth old man who rarely answered questions, and
+never opened the door until he had assured himself by a deliberate
+inspection through the grating that the person who knocked had a right
+to come in. Marietta remembered him in his den when she had been a
+little child, and she vaguely supposed that he had always been there. He
+had been old then, he was not visibly older now, he would probably never
+die of old age, and if any mortal ill should carry him off, he would
+surely be replaced by some one exactly like him, who would sleep in the
+same box bed, sit all day in the same black chair, and eat bread,
+shellfish and garlic off the same worm-eaten table. There was no other
+entrance to the glass-house, and there could be no other porter to guard
+it.
+
+Beyond the vestibule a dark corridor led to a small garden that formed
+the court of the building, and on one side of which were the large
+windows that lighted the main furnace room, while the other side
+contained the laboratory of the master. But the main furnace was entered
+from the corridor, so that the workmen never passed through the garden.
+There were a few shrubs in it, two or three rose-bushes and a small
+plane-tree. Zorzi, who had been born and brought up in the country, had
+made a couple of flower-beds, edged with refuse fragments of coloured
+and iridescent slag, and he had planted such common flowers as he could
+make grow in such a place, watering them from a disused rain-water
+cistern that was supposed to have been poisoned long ago. Here Marietta
+often sat in the shade, when the laboratory was too close and hot, and
+when the time was at hand during which even the men would not be able to
+work on account of the heat, and the furnace would be put out and
+repaired, and every one would be set to making the delicate clay pots in
+which the glass was to be melted. Marietta could sit silent and
+motionless in her seat under the plane-tree for a long time when she was
+thinking, and she never told any one her thoughts.
+
+
+She was not unlike her father in looks, and that was doubtless the
+reason why he assumed that she must be like him in character. No one
+would have said that she was handsome, but sometimes, when she smiled,
+those who saw that rare expression in her face thought she was
+beautiful. When it was gone, they said she was cold. Fortunately, her
+hair was not red, as her father's had been or she might sometimes have
+seemed positively ugly; it was of that deep ruddy, golden brown that one
+may often see in Venice still, and there was an abundance of it, though
+it was drawn straight back from her white forehead and braided into the
+smallest possible space, in the fashion of that time. There was often a
+little colour in her face, though never much, and it was faint, yet
+very fresh, like the tint within certain delicate shells; her lips were
+of the same hue, but stronger and brighter, and they were very well
+shaped and generally closed, like her father's. But her eyes were not
+like his, and the lids and lashes shaded them in such a way that it was
+hard to guess their colour, and they had an inscrutable, reserved look
+that was hard to meet for many seconds. Zorzi believed that they were
+grey, but when he saw them in his dreams they were violet; and one day
+she opened them wide for an instant, at something old Beroviero said to
+her, and then Zorzi fancied that they were like sapphires, but before he
+could be sure, the lids and lashes shaded them again, and he only knew
+that they were there, and longed to see them, for her father had spoken
+of her marriage, and she had not answered a single word.
+
+When they were alone together for a moment, while the old man was
+searching for more materials in the next room, she spoke to Zorzi.
+
+"My father did not mean you to hear that," she said.
+
+"Nevertheless, I heard," answered Zorzi, pushing a small piece of beech
+wood into the fire through a narrow slit on one side of the brick
+furnace. "It was not my fault."
+
+"Forget that you heard it," said Marietta quietly, and as her father
+entered the room again she passed him and went out into the garden.
+
+But Zorzi did not even try to forget the name of the man whom Beroviero
+appeared to have chosen for his daughter. He tried instead, to
+understand why Marietta wished him not to remember that the name was
+Jacopo Contarini. He glanced sideways at the girl's figure as she
+disappeared through the door, and he thoughtfully pushed another piece
+of wood into the fire. Some day, perhaps before long, she would marry
+this man who had been mentioned, and then Zorzi would be alone with old
+Beroviero in the laboratory. He set his teeth, and poked the fire with,
+an iron rod.
+
+It happened now and then that Marietta did not come to the glass-house.
+Those days were long, and when night came Zorzi felt as if his heart
+were turning into a hot stone in his breast, and his sight was dull, and
+he ached from his work and felt scorched by the heat of the furnace. For
+he was not very strong of limb, though he was quick with his hands and
+of a very tenacious nature, able to endure pain as well as weariness
+when he was determined to finish what he had begun. But while Marietta
+was in the laboratory, nothing could tire him nor hurt him, nor make him
+wish that the hours were less long. He thought therefore of what must
+happen to him if Jacopo Contarini took Marietta away from Murano to live
+in a palace in Venice, and he determined at least to find out what sort
+of man this might be who was to receive for his own the only woman in
+the world for whose sake it would be perfect happiness to be burned with
+slow fire. He did not mean to do Contarini any harm. Perhaps Marietta
+already loved the man, and was glad she was to marry him. No one could
+have told what she felt, even from that one flashing look she had given
+her father. Zorzi did not try to understand her yet; he only loved her,
+and she was his master's daughter, and if his master found out his
+secret it would be a very evil day for him. So he poked the fire with
+his iron rod, and set his teeth, and said nothing, while old Beroviero
+moved about the room.
+
+"Zorzi," said the master presently, "I meant you to hear what I said to
+my daughter."
+
+"I heard, sir," answered the young man, rising respectfully, and waiting
+for more.
+
+"Remember the name you heard," said Beroviero.
+
+If the matter had been any other in the world, Zorzi would have smiled
+at the master's words, because they bade him do just what Marietta had
+forbidden. The one said "forget," the other "remember." For the first
+time in his life Zorzi found it easier to obey his lady's father than
+herself. He bent his head respectfully.
+
+"I trust you, Zorzi," continued Beroviero, slowly mixing some materials
+in a little wooden trough on the table. "I trust you, because I must
+trust some one in order to have a safe means of communicating with Casa
+Contarini."
+
+Again Zorzi bent his head, but still he said nothing.
+
+"These five years you have worked with me in private," the old man went
+on, "and I know that you have not told what you have seen me do, though
+there are many who would pay you good money to know what I have been
+about."
+
+"That is true," answered Zorzi.
+
+"Yes. I therefore judge that you are one of those unusual beings whom
+God has sent into the world to be of use to their fellow-creatures
+instead of a hindrance. For you possess the power of holding your
+tongue, which I had almost believed to be extinct in the human race. I
+am going to send you on an errand to Venice, to Jacopo Cantarini. If I
+sent any one from my house, all Murano would know it to-morrow morning,
+but I wish no one here to guess where you have been."
+
+"No one shall see me," answered Zorzi. "Tell me only where I am to go."
+
+"You know Venice well by this time. You must have often passed the house
+of the Agnus Dei."
+
+"By the Baker's Bridge?"
+
+"Yes. Go there alone, to-night and ask for Messer Jacopo; and if the
+porter inquires your business, say that you have a message and a token
+from a certain Angelo. When you are admitted and are alone with Messer
+Jacopo, tell him from me to go and stand by the second pillar on the
+left in Saint Mark's, on Sunday next, an hour before noon, until he sees
+me; and within a week after that, he shall have the answer; and bid him
+be silent, if he would succeed."
+
+"Is that all, sir?"
+
+"That is all. If he gives you any message in answer, deliver it to me
+to-morrow, when my daughter is not here."
+
+"And the token?" inquired Zorzi.
+
+"This glass seal, of which he already has an impression in wax, in case
+he should doubt you."
+
+Zorzi took the little leathern bag which contained the seal. He tied a
+piece of string to it, and hung it round his neck, so that it was hidden
+in his doublet like a charm or a scapulary. Beroviero watched him and
+nodded in approval.
+
+"Do not start before it is quite dark," he said. "Take the little skiff.
+The water will be high two hours before midnight, so you will have no
+trouble in getting across. When you come back, come here, and tell the
+porter that I have ordered you to see that my fire is properly kept up.
+Then go to sleep in the coolest place you can find."
+
+After Beroviero had given him these orders, Zorzi had plenty of time for
+reflection, for his master said nothing more, and became absorbed in his
+work, weighing out portions of different ingredients and slowly mixing
+each with the coloured earths and chemicals that were already in the
+wooden trough. There was nothing to do but to tend the fire, and Zorzi
+pushed in the pieces of Istrian beech wood with his usual industrious
+regularity. It was the only part of his work which he hated, and when he
+was obliged to do nothing else, he usually sought consolation in
+dreaming of a time when he himself should be a master glass-blower and
+artist whom it would be almost an honour for a young man to serve, even
+in such a humble way. He did not know how that was to happen, since
+there were strict laws against teaching the art to foreigners, and also
+against allowing any foreign person to establish a furnace at Murano;
+and the glass works had long been altogether banished from Venice on
+account of the danger of fire, at a time when two-thirds of the houses
+were of wood. But meanwhile Zorzi had learned the art, in spite of the
+law, and he hoped in time to overcome the other obstacles that opposed
+him.
+
+There was strength of purpose in every line of his keen young face,
+strength to endure, to forego, to suffer in silence for an end ardently
+desired. The dark brown hair grew somewhat far back from the pale
+forehead, the features were youthfully sharp and clearly drawn, and deep
+neutral shadows gave a look of almost passionate sadness to the black
+eyes. There was quick perception, imagination, love of art for its own
+sake in the upper part of the face; its strength lay in the well-built
+jaw and firm lips, and a little in the graceful and assured poise of the
+head. Zorzi was not tall, but he was shapely, and moved without effort.
+
+His eyes were sadder than usual just now, as he tended the fire in the
+silence that was broken only by the low roar of the flames within the
+brick furnace, and the irregular sound of the master's wooden instrument
+as he crushed and stirred the materials together. Zorzi had longed to
+see Contarini as soon as he had heard his name; and having unexpectedly
+obtained the certainty of seeing him that very night, he wished that
+the moment could be put off, he felt cold and hot, he wondered how he
+should behave, and whether after all he might not be tempted to do his
+enemy some bodily harm.
+
+For in a few minutes the aspect of his world had changed, and
+Contarini's unknown figure filled the future. Until to-day, he had never
+seriously thought of Marietta's marriage, nor of what would happen to
+him afterwards; but now, he was to be one of the instruments for
+bringing the marriage about. He knew well enough what the appointment in
+Saint Mark's meant: Marietta was to have an opportunity of seeing
+Contarini before accepting him. Even that was something of a concession
+in those times, but Beroviero fancied that he loved his child too much
+to marry her against her will. This was probably a great match for the
+glass-worker's daughter, however, and she would not refuse it. Contarini
+had never seen her either; he might have heard that she was a pretty
+girl, but there were famous beauties in Venice, and if he wanted
+Marietta Beroviero it could only be for her dowry. The marriage was
+therefore a mere bargain between the two men, in which a name was
+bartered for a fortune and a fortune for a name. Zorzi saw how absurd it
+was to suppose that Marietta could care for a man whom she had never
+even seen; and worse than that, he guessed in a flash of loving
+intuition how wretchedly unhappy she might be with him, and he hated and
+despised the errand he was to perform. The future seemed to reveal
+itself to him with the long martyrdom of the woman he loved, and he felt
+an almost irresistible desire to go to her and implore her to refuse to
+be sold.
+
+Nine-tenths of the marriages he had ever heard of in Murano or Venice
+had been made in this way, and in a moment's reflection he realised the
+folly of appealing even to the girl herself, who doubtless looked upon
+the whole proceeding as perfectly natural. She had of course expected
+such an event ever since she had been a child, she was prepared to
+accept it, and she only hoped that her husband might turn out to be
+young, handsome and noble, since she did not want money. A moment later,
+Zorzi included all marriageable young women in one sweeping
+condemnation: they were all hard-hearted, mercenary, vain,
+deceitful--anything that suggested itself to his headlong resentment.
+Art was the only thing worth living and dying for; the world was full of
+women, and they were all alike, old, young, ugly, handsome--all a pack
+of heartless jades; but art was one, beautiful, true, deathless and
+unchanging.
+
+He looked up from the furnace door, and he felt the blood rush to his
+face. Marietta was standing near and watching him with her strangely
+veiled eyes.
+
+"Poor Zorzi!" she exclaimed in a soft voice. "How hot you look!"
+
+He did not remember that he had ever cared a straw whether any one
+noticed that he was hot or not, until that moment; but for some
+complicated reason connected with his own thoughts the remark stung him
+like an insult, and fully confirmed his recent verdict concerning women
+in general and their total lack of all human kindness where men were
+concerned. He rose to his feet suddenly and turned away without a word.
+
+"Come out into the garden," said Marietta. "Do you need Zorzi just now?"
+she asked, turning to her father, who only shook his head by way of
+answer, for he was very busy.
+
+"But I assure you that I am not too hot," answered Zorzi. "Why should I
+go out?"
+
+"Because I want you to fasten up one of the branches of the red rose. It
+catches in my skirt every time I pass. You will need a hammer and a
+little nail."
+
+She had not been thinking of his comfort after all, thought Zorzi as he
+got the hammer. She had only wanted something done for herself. He might
+have known it. But for the rose that caught in her skirt, he might have
+roasted alive at the furnace before she would have noticed that he was
+hot. He followed her out. She led him to the end of the walk farthest
+from the door of the laboratory; the sun was low and all the little
+garden was in deep shade. A branch of the rose-bush lay across the path,
+and Zorzi thought it looked very much as if it had been pulled down on
+purpose. She pointed to it, and as he carefully lifted it from the
+ground she spoke quickly, in a low tone.
+
+"What was my father saying to you a while ago?" she asked.
+
+Zorzi held up the branch in his hand, ready to fasten it against the
+wall, and looked at her. He saw at a glance that she had brought him out
+to ask the question.
+
+"The master was giving me certain orders," he said.
+
+"He rarely makes such long speeches when he gives orders," observed the
+girl.
+
+"His instructions were very particular."
+
+"Will you not tell me what they were?"
+
+Zorzi turned slowly from her and let the long branch rest on the bush
+while he began to drive a nail into the wall. Marietta watched him.
+
+"Why do you not answer me?" she asked.
+
+"Because I cannot," he said briefly.
+
+"Because you will not, you mean."
+
+"As you choose." Zorzi went on striking the nail.
+
+"I am sorry," answered the young girl. "I really wish to know very much.
+Besides, if you will tell me, I will give you something."
+
+Zorzi turned upon her suddenly with angry eyes.
+
+"If money could buy your father's secrets from me, I should be a rich
+man by this time."
+
+"I think I know as much of my father's secrets as you do," answered
+Marietta more coldly, "and I did not mean to offer you money."
+
+"What then?" But as he asked the question Zorzi turned away again and
+began to fasten the branch.
+
+Marietta did not answer at once, but she idly picked a rose from the
+bush and put it to her lips to breathe in its freshness.
+
+"Why should you think that I meant to insult you?" she asked gently.
+
+"I am only a servant, after all," answered Zorzi, with unnecessary
+bitterness. "Why should you not insult your servants, if you please? It
+would be quite natural."
+
+"Would it? Even if you were really a servant?"
+
+"It seems quite natural to you that I should betray your father's
+confidence. I do not see much difference between taking it for granted
+that a man is a traitor and offering him money to act as one."
+
+"No," said Marietta, smelling the rose from time to time as she spoke,
+"there is not much difference. But I did not mean to hurt your
+feelings."
+
+"You did not realise that I could have any, I fancy," retorted Zorzi,
+still angry.
+
+"Perhaps I did not understand that you would consider what my father was
+telling you in the same light as a secret of the art," said Marietta
+slowly, "nor that you would look upon what I meant to offer you as a
+bribe. The matter concerned me, did it not?"
+
+"Your name was not spoken. I have fastened the branch. Is there anything
+else for me to do?"
+
+"Have you no curiosity to know what I would have given you?" asked
+Marietta.
+
+"I should be ashamed to want anything at such a price," returned Zorzi
+proudly.
+
+"You hold your honour high, even in trifles."
+
+"It is all I have--my honour and my art."
+
+"You care for nothing else? Nothing else in the whole world?"
+
+"Nothing," said Zorzi.
+
+"You must be very lonely in your thoughts," she said, and turned away.
+
+As she went slowly along the path her hand hung by her side, and the
+rose she held fell from her fingers. Following her at a short distance,
+on his way back to the laboratory, Zorzi stooped and picked up the
+flower, not thinking that she would turn her head. But at that moment
+she had reached the door, and she looked back and saw what he had done.
+She stood still and held out her hand, expecting him to come up with
+her.
+
+"My rose!" she exclaimed, as if surprised. "Give it back to me."
+
+Zorzi gave it to her, and the colour came to his face a second time. She
+fastened it in her bodice, looking down at it as she did so.
+
+"I am so fond of roses," she said, smiling a little. "Are you?"
+
+"I planted all those you have here," he answered.
+
+"Yes--I know."
+
+She looked up as she spoke, and met his eyes, and all at once she
+laughed, not unkindly, nor as if at him, nor at what he had said, but
+quietly and happily, as women do when they have got what they want.
+Zorzi did not understand.
+
+"You are gay," he said coldly.
+
+"Do you wonder?" she asked. "If you knew what I know, you would
+understand."
+
+"But I do not."
+
+Zorzi went back to his furnace, Marietta exchanged a few words with her
+father and left the room again to go home.
+
+In the garden she paused a moment by the rose-bush, where she had talked
+with Zorzi, but there was not even the shadow of a smile in her face
+now. She went down the dark corridor and called the porter, who roused
+himself, opened the door and hailed the house opposite. A woman looked
+out in the evening light, nodded and disappeared. A few seconds later
+she came out of the house, a quiet little middle-aged creature in brown,
+with intelligent eyes, and she crossed the shaky wooden bridge over the
+canal to come and bring Marietta home. It would have been a scandalous
+thing if the daughter of Angelo Beroviero had been seen by the
+neighbours to walk a score of paces in the street without an attendant.
+She had thrown a hood of dark green cloth over her head, and the folds
+hung below her shoulders, half hiding her graceful figure. Her step was
+smooth and deliberate, while the little brown serving-woman trotted
+beside her across the wooden bridge.
+
+The house of Angelo Beroviero hung over the paved way, above the edge of
+the water, the upper story being supported by six stone columns and
+massive wooden beams, forming a sort of portico which was at the same
+time a public thoroughfare; but as the house was not far from the end
+of the canal of San Piero which opens towards Venice, few people passed
+that way.
+
+Marietta paused a moment while the woman held the door open for her. The
+sun had just set and the salt freshness that comes with the rising tide
+was already in the air.
+
+"I wish I were in Venice this evening," she said, almost to herself.
+
+The serving-woman looked at her suspiciously.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+The June night was dark and warm as Zorzi pushed off from the steps
+before his master's house and guided his skiff through the canal,
+scarcely moving the single oar, as the rising tide took his boat
+silently along. It was not until he had passed the last of the
+glass-houses on his right, and was already in the lagoon that separates
+Murano from Venice, that he began to row, gently at first, for fear of
+being heard by some one ashore, and then more quickly, swinging his oar
+in the curved crutch with that skilful, serpentine stroke which is
+neither rowing nor sculling, but which has all the advantages of both,
+for it is swift and silent, and needs scarcely to be slackened even in a
+channel so narrow that the boat itself can barely pass.
+
+Now that he was away from the houses, the stars came out and he felt the
+pleasant land breeze in his face, meeting the rising tide. Not a boat
+was out upon the shallow lagoon but his own, not a sound came from the
+town behind him; but as the flat bow of the skiff gently slapped the
+water, it plashed and purled with every stroke of the oar, and a faint
+murmur of voices in song was borne to him on the wind from the still
+waking city.
+
+He stood upright on the high stern of the shadowy craft, himself but a
+moving shadow in the starlight, thrown forward now, and now once more
+erect, in changing motion; and as he moved the same thought came back
+and back again in a sort of halting and painful rhythm. He was out that
+night on a bad errand, it said, helping to sell the life of the woman he
+loved, and what he was doing could never be undone. Again and again the
+words said themselves, the far-off voices said them, the lapping water
+took them up and repeated them, the breeze whispered them quickly as it
+passed, the oar pronounced them as it creaked softly in the crutch
+rowlock, the stars spelled out the sentences in the sky, the lights of
+Venice wrote them in the water in broken reflections. He was not alone
+any more, for everything in heaven and earth was crying to him to go
+back.
+
+That was folly, and he knew it. The master who had trusted him would
+drive him out of his house, and out of Venetian land and water, too, if
+he chose, and he should never see Marietta again; and she would be
+married to Contarini just as if Zorzi had taken the message. Besides, it
+was the custom of the world everywhere, so far as he knew, that marriage
+and money should be spoken of in the same breath, and there was no
+reason why his master should make an exception and be different from
+other men.
+
+He could put some hindrance in the way, of course, if he chose to
+interfere, for he could deliver the message wrong, and Contarini would
+go to the church in the afternoon instead of in the morning. He smiled
+grimly in the dark as he thought of the young nobleman waiting for an
+hour or two beside the pillar, to be looked at by some one who never
+came, then catching sight at last of some ugly old maid of forty,
+protected by her servant, ogling him, while she said her prayers and
+filling him with horror at the thought that she must be Marietta
+Beroviero. All that might happen, but it must inevitably be found out,
+the misunderstanding would be cleared away and the marriage would be
+arranged after all.
+
+He had rested on his oar to think, and now he struck it deep into the
+black water and the skiff shot ahead. He would have a far better chance
+of serving Marietta in the future if he obeyed his master and delivered
+his message exactly; for he should see Contarini himself and judge of
+him, in the first place, and that alone was worth much, and afterwards
+there would be time enough for desperate resolutions. He hastened his
+stroke, and when he ran under the shadow of the overhanging houses his
+mood changed and he grew hopeful, as many young men do, out of sheer
+curiosity as to what was before him, and out of the wish to meet
+something or somebody that should put his own strength to the test.
+
+It was not far now. With infinite caution he threaded the dark canals,
+thanking fortune for the faint starlight that showed him the turnings.
+Here and there a small oil lamp burned before the image of a saint; from
+a narrow lane on one side, the light streamed across the water, and with
+it came sounds of ringing glasses, and the tinkling of a lute, and
+laughing voices; then it was dark again as his skiff shot by, and he
+made haste, for he wished not to be seen.
+
+Presently, and somewhat to his surprise, he saw a gondola before him in
+a narrow place, rowed slowly by a man who seemed to be in black like
+himself. He did not try to pass it, but kept a little astern, trying not
+to attract attention and hoping that it would turn aside into another
+canal. But it went steadily on before him, turning wherever he must
+turn, till it stopped where he was to stop, at the water-gate of the
+house of the Agnus Dei. Instantly he brought to in the shadow, with the
+instinctive caution of every one who is used to the water. Gondolas were
+few in those days and belonged only to the rich, who had just begun to
+use them as a means of getting about quickly, much more convenient than
+horses or mules; for when riding a man often had to go far out of his
+way to reach a bridge, and there were many canals that had no bridle
+path at all and where the wooden houses were built straight down into
+the water as the stone ones are to-day. Zorzi peered through the
+darkness and listened. The occupant of the gondola might be Contarini
+himself, coming home. Whoever it was tapped softly upon the door, which
+was instantly opened, but to Zorzi's surprise no light shone from the
+entrance. All the house above was still and dark, and he could barely
+make out by the starlight the piece of white marble bearing the
+sculptured Agnus Dei whence the house takes its name. He knew that above
+the high balcony there were graceful columns bearing pointed stone
+arches, between which are the symbols of the four Evangelists; but he
+could see nothing of them. Only on the balcony, he fancied he saw
+something less dark than the wall or the sky, and which might be a
+woman's dress.
+
+Some one got out of the gondola and went in after speaking a few words
+in a low tone, and the door was then shut without noise. The gondola
+glided on, under the Baker's Bridge, but Zorzi could not see whether it
+went further or not; he thought he heard the sound of the oar, as if it
+were going away. Coming alongside the step, he knocked gently as the
+last comer had done, and the door opened again. He had already made his
+skiff fast to the step.
+
+"Your business here?" asked a muffled voice out of the dark.
+
+Zorzi felt that a number of persons were in the hall immediately behind
+the speaker.
+
+"For the Lord Jacopo Contarini," he answered. "I have a message and a
+token to deliver."
+
+"From whom?"
+
+"I will tell that to his lordship," replied Zorzi.
+
+"I am Contarini," replied the voice, and the speaker felt for Zorzi's
+face in the darkness, and brought it near his ear.
+
+"From Angelo," whispered Zorzi, so softly that Contarini only heard the
+last word.
+
+The door was now shut as noiselessly as before, but not by Contarini
+himself. He still kept his hold on Zorzi's arm.
+
+"The token," he whispered impatiently.
+
+Zorzi pulled the little leathern bag out of his doublet, slipped the
+string over his head and thrust the token into Contarini's hand. The
+latter uttered a low exclamation of surprise.
+
+"What is this?" he asked.
+
+"The token," answered Zorzi.
+
+He had scarcely spoken when he felt Contarini's arms round him, holding
+him fast. He was wise enough to make no attempt to escape from them.
+
+"Friends," said Contarini quickly, "the man who just came in is a spy. I
+am holding him. Help me!"
+
+It seemed to Zorzi that a hundred hands seized him in the dark; by the
+arms, by the legs, by the body, by the head. He knew that resistance was
+worse than useless. There were hands at his throat, too.
+
+"Let us do nothing hastily," said Contarini's voice, close beside him.
+"We must find out what he knows first. We can make him speak, I
+daresay."
+
+"We are not hangmen to torture a prisoner till he confesses," observed
+some one in a quiet and rather indolent tone. "Strangle him quickly and
+throw him into the canal. It is late already."
+
+"No," answered Contarini. "Let us at least see his face. We may know
+him. If you cry out," he said to Zorzi, "you will be killed instantly."
+
+"Jacopo is right," said some one who had not spoken yet.
+
+Almost at the same instant a door was opened and a broad bar of light
+shot across the hall from an inner room. Zorzi was roughly dragged
+towards it, and he saw that he was surrounded by about twenty masked
+men. His face was held to the light, and Contarini's hold on his throat
+relaxed.
+
+"Not even a mask!" exclaimed Jacopo. "A fool, or a madman. Speak, man I
+Who are you? Who sent you here?"
+
+"My name is Zorzi," answered the glass-blower with difficulty, for he
+had been almost choked. "My business is with the Lord Jacopo alone. It
+is very private."
+
+"I have no secrets from my friends," said Contarini. "Speak as if we
+were alone."
+
+"I have promised my master to deliver the message in secret. I will not
+speak here."
+
+"Strangle him and throw him out," suggested the man with the indolent
+voice. "His master is the devil, I have no doubt. He can take the
+message back with him."
+
+Two or three laughed.
+
+"These spies seldom hunt alone," remarked another. "While we are wasting
+time a dozen more may be guarding the entrance to the house."
+
+"I am no spy," said Zorzi.
+
+"What are you, then?"
+
+"A glass-worker of Murano."
+
+Contarini's hands relaxed altogether, now, and he bent his ear to
+Zorzi's lips.
+
+"Whisper your message," he said quickly.
+
+Zorzi obeyed.
+
+"Angelo Beroviero bids you wait by the second pillar on the left in
+Saint Mark's church, next Sunday morning, at one hour before noon, till
+you shall see him, and in a week from that time you shall have an
+answer; and be silent, if you would succeed."
+
+"Very well," answered Contarini. "Friends," he said, standing erect, "it
+is a message I have expected. The name of the man who sends it is
+'Angelo'--you understand. It is not this fellow's fault that he came
+here this evening."
+
+"I suppose there is a woman in the case," said the indolent man. "We
+will respect your secret. Put the poor devil out of his misery and let
+us come to our business."
+
+"Kill an innocent man!" exclaimed Contarini.
+
+"Yes, since a word from him can send us all to die between the two red
+columns."
+
+"His master is powerful and rich," said Jacopo. "If the fellow does not
+go back to-night, there will be trouble to-morrow, and since he was sent
+to my house, the inquiry will begin here."
+
+"That is true," said more than one voice, in a tone of hesitation.
+
+Zorzi was very pale, but he held his head high, facing the light of the
+tall wax candles on the table around which his captors were standing. He
+was hopelessly at their mercy, for they were twenty to one; the door had
+been shut and barred and the only window in the room was high above the
+floor and covered by a thick curtain. He understood perfectly that, by
+the accident of Angelo's name, "Angel" being the password of the
+company, he had been accidentally admitted to the meeting of some secret
+society, and from what had been said, he guessed that its object was a
+conspiracy against the Republic. It was clear that in self-defence they
+would most probably kill him, since they could not reasonably run the
+risk of trusting their lives in his hands. They looked at each other, as
+if silently debating what they should do.
+
+"At first you suggested that we should torture him," sneered the
+indolent man, "and now you tremble like a girl at the idea of killing
+him! Listen to me, Jacopo; if you think that I will leave this house
+while this fellow is alive, you are most egregiously mistaken."
+
+He had drawn his dagger while he was speaking, and before he had
+finished it was dangerously near Zorzi's throat. Contarini retired a
+step as if not daring to defend the prisoner, whose assailant, in spite
+of his careless and almost womanish tone, was clearly a man of action.
+Zorzi looked fearlessly into the eyes that peered at him through the
+holes in the mask.
+
+"It is curious," observed the other. "He does not seem to be afraid. I
+am sorry for you, my man, for you appear to be a fine fellow, and I like
+your face, but we cannot possibly let you go out of the house alive."
+
+"If you choose to trust me," said Zorzi calmly, "I will not betray you.
+But of course it must seem safer for you to kill me. I quite
+understand."
+
+"If anything, he is cooler than Venier," observed one of the company.
+
+"He does not believe that we are in earnest," said Contarini.
+
+"I am," answered Venier. "Now, my man," he said, addressing Zorzi again,
+"if there is anything I can do for you or your family after your death,
+without risking my neck, I will do it with pleasure."
+
+"I have no family, but I thank you for your offer. In return for your
+courtesy, I warn you that my master's skiff is fast to the step of the
+house. It might be recognised. When you have killed me, you had better
+cast it off--it will drift away with the tide."
+
+Venier, who had let the point of his long dagger rest against Zorzi's
+collar, suddenly dropped it.
+
+"Contarini," he said, "I take back what I said. It would be an
+abominable shame to murder a man as brave as he is."
+
+A murmur of approval came from all the company; but Contarini, whose
+vacillating nature showed itself at every turn, was now inclined to take
+the other side.
+
+"He may ruin us all," he said. "One word--"
+
+"It seems to me," interrupted a big man who had not yet spoken, and
+whose beard was as black as his mask, "that we could make use of just
+such a man as this, and of more like him if they are to be found."
+
+"You are right," said Venier. "If he will take the oath, and bear the
+tests, let him be one of us. My friend," he said to Zorzi, "you see how
+it is. You have proved yourself a brave man, and if you are willing to
+join our company we shall be glad to receive you among us. Do you
+agree?"
+
+"I must know what the purpose of your society is," answered Zorzi as
+calmly as before.
+
+"That is well said, my friend, and I like you the better for it. Now
+listen to me. We are a brotherhood of gentlemen of Venice sworn together
+to restore the original freedom of our city. That is our main purpose.
+What Tiepolo and Faliero failed to do, we hope to accomplish. Are you
+with us in that?"
+
+"Sirs," answered Zorzi, "I am a Dalmatian by birth, and not a Venetian.
+The Republic forbids me to learn the art of glass-working. I have
+learned it. The Republic forbids me to set up a furnace of my own. I
+hope to do so. I owe Venice neither allegiance nor gratitude. If your
+revolution is to give freedom to art as well as to men, I am with you."
+
+"We shall have freedom for all," said Venier. "We take, moreover, an
+oath of fellowship which binds us to help each other in all
+circumstances, to the utmost of our ability and fortune, within the
+bounds of reason, to risk life and limb for each other's safety, and
+most especially to respect the wives, the daughters and the betrothed
+brides of all who belong to our fellowship. These are promises which
+every true and honest man can make to his friends, and we agree that
+whoso breaks any one of them, shall die by the hands of the company. And
+by God in heaven, it were better that you should lose your life now,
+before taking the oath, than that you should be false to it."
+
+"I will take that oath, and keep it," said Zorzi.
+
+"That is well. We have few signs and no ceremonies, but our promises
+are binding, and the forfeit is a painful death--so painful that even
+you might flinch before it. Indeed, we usually make some test of a man's
+courage before receiving him among us, though most of us have known each
+other since we were children. But you have shown us that you are
+fearless and honourable, and we ask nothing more of you, except to take
+the oath and then to keep it."
+
+He turned to the company, still speaking in his languid way.
+
+"If any man here knows good reason why this new companion should not be
+one of us, let him show it now."
+
+Then all were silent, and uncovered their heads, but they still kept
+their masks on their faces. Zorzi stood out before them, and Venier was
+close beside him.
+
+"Make the sign of the Cross," said Venier in a solemn tone, quite
+different from his ordinary voice, "and repeat the words after me."
+
+And Zorzi repeated them steadily and precisely, holding his hand
+stretched out before him.
+
+"In the name of the Holy Trinity, I promise and swear to give life and
+fortune in the good cause of restoring the original liberty of the
+people of Venice, obeying to that end the decisions of this honourable
+society, and to bear all sufferings rather than betray it, or any of its
+members. And I promise to help each one of my companions also in the
+ordinary affairs of life, to the best of my ability and fortune, within
+the bounds of reason, risking life and limb for the safety of each and
+all. And I promise most especially to honour and respect the wives, the
+daughters and the betrothed brides of all who belong to this fellowship,
+and to defend them from harm and insult, even as my own mother. And if I
+break any promise of this oath, may my flesh be torn from my limbs and
+my limbs from my body, one by one, to be burned with fire and the ashes
+thereof scattered abroad. Amen."
+
+When Zorzi had said the last word, Venier grasped his hand, at the same
+time taking off the mask he wore, and he looked into the young man's
+face.
+
+"I am Zuan Venier," he said, his indolent manner returning as he spoke.
+
+"I am Jacopo Contarini," said the master of the house, offering his hand
+next.
+
+Zorzi looked first at one, and then at the other; the first was a very
+pale young man, with bright blue eyes and delicate features that were
+prematurely weary and even worn; Contarini was called the handsomest
+Venetian of his day. Yet of the two, most men and women would have been
+more attracted to Venier at first sight. For Contarini's silken beard
+hardly concealed a weak and feminine mouth, with lips too red and too
+curving for a man, and his soft brown eyes had an unmanly tendency to
+look away while he was speaking. He was tall, broad shouldered, and well
+proportioned, with beautiful hands and shapely feet, yet he did not give
+an impression of strength, whereas Venier's languid manner, assumed as
+it doubtless was, could not hide the restless energy that lay in his
+lean frame.
+
+One by one the other companions came up to Zorzi, took off their masks
+and grasped his hand, and he heard their lips pronounce names famous in
+Venetian history, Loredan, Mocenigo, Foscari and many others. But he saw
+that not one of them all was over five-and-twenty years of age, and with
+the keenness of the waif who had fought his own way in the world he
+judged that these were not men who could overturn the great Republic and
+build up a new government. Whatever they might prove to be in danger and
+revolution, however, he had saved his life by casting his lot with
+theirs, and he was profoundly grateful to them for having accepted him
+as one of themselves. But for their generosity, his weighted body would
+have been already lying at the bottom of the canal, and he was not just
+now inclined to criticise the mental gifts of those would-be
+conspirators who had so unexpectedly forgiven him for discovering their
+secret meeting.
+
+"Sirs," he said, when he had grasped the hand of each, "I hope that in
+return for my life, for which I thank you, I may be of some service to
+the cause of liberty, and to each of you in singular, though I have but
+little hope of this, seeing that I am but an artist and you are all
+patricians. I pray you, inform me by what sign I may know you if we
+chance to meet outside this house, and how I may make myself known."
+
+"We have little need of signs," answered Contarini, "for we meet often,
+and we know each other well. But our password is 'the Angel'--meaning
+the Angel that freed Saint Peter from his bonds, as we hope to free
+Venice from hers, and the token we give is the grip of the hand we have
+each given you."
+
+Being thus instructed, Zorzi held his peace, for he felt that he was in
+the presence of men far above him in station, in whose conversation it
+would not be easy for him to join, and of whose daily lives he knew
+nothing, except that most of them lived in palaces and many were the
+sons of Councillors of the Ten, and of Senators, and Procurators and of
+others high in office, whereat he wondered much. But presently, as the
+excitement of what had happened wore off, and they sat about the table,
+they began to speak of the news of the day, and especially of the unjust
+and cruel acts of the Ten, each contributing some detail learned in his
+own home or among intimate friends. Zorzi sat silent in his place,
+listening, and he soon understood that as yet they had no definite plan
+for bringing on a revolution, and that they knew nothing of the populace
+upon whose support they reckoned, and of whom Zorzi knew much by
+experience. Yet, though they told each other things which seemed foolish
+to him, he said nothing on that first night, and all the time he watched
+Contarini very closely, and listened with especial attention to what he
+said, trying to discern his character and judge his understanding.
+
+The splendid young Venetian was not displeased by Zorzi's attitude
+towards him, and presently came and sat beside him.
+
+"I should have explained to you," he said, "that as it would be
+impossible for us to meet here without the knowledge of my servants, we
+come together on pretence of playing games of chance. My father lives in
+our palace near Saint Mark's, and I live here alone."
+
+At this Foscari, the tall man with the black beard, looked at Contarini
+and laughed a little. Contarini glanced at him and smiled with some
+constraint.
+
+"On such evenings," he continued, "I admit my guests myself, and they
+wear masks when they come, for though my servants are dismissed to their
+quarters, and would certainly not betray me for a dice-player, they
+might let drop the names of my friends if they saw them from an upper
+window."
+
+At this juncture Zorzi heard the rattling of dice, and looking down the
+table he saw that two of the company were already throwing against each
+other. In a few minutes he found himself sitting alone near Zuan Venier,
+all the others having either begun to play themselves, or being engaged
+in wagering on the play of others.
+
+"And you, sir?" inquired Zorzi of his neighbour.
+
+"I am tired of games of chance," answered the pale nobleman wearily.
+
+"But our host says it is a mere pretence, to hide the purpose of these
+meetings."
+
+"It is more than that," said Venier with a contemptuous smile. "Do you
+play?"
+
+"I am a poor artist, sir. I cannot."
+
+"Ah, I had forgotten. That is very interesting. But pray do not call me
+'sir' nor use any formality, unless we meet in public. At the 'Sign of
+the Angel' we are all brothers. Yes--yes--of course! You are a poor
+artist. When I expected to be obliged to cut your throat awhile ago, I
+really hoped that I might be able to fulfil some last wish of yours."
+
+"I appreciated your goodness." Zorzi laughed a little nervously, now
+that the danger was over.
+
+"I meant it, my friend, I do assure you. And I mean it now. One
+advantage of the fellowship is that one may offer to help a brother in
+any way without insulting him. I am not as rich as I was--I was too fond
+of those things once"--he pointed to the dice--"but if my purse can
+serve you, such as it is, I hope you will use it rather than that of
+another."
+
+It was impossible to be offended, sensitive though Zorzi was.
+
+"I thank you heartily," he answered.
+
+"It would be a curiosity to see money do good for once," said Venier,
+languidly looking towards the players. "Contarini is losing again," he
+remarked.
+
+"Does he generally lose much at play?" Zorzi asked, trying to seem
+indifferent.
+
+Venier laughed softly.
+
+"It is proverbial, 'to lose like Jacopo Contarini'!" he answered.
+
+"Tell me, I beg of you, are all the meetings of the brotherhood like
+this one?"
+
+"In what way?" asked Venier indifferently.
+
+"Do you merely tell each other the news of the day, and then play at
+dice all night?"
+
+"Some play cards." Venier laughed scornfully. "This is only the third of
+our secret sittings, I believe, but many of us meet elsewhere, during
+the day."
+
+"Our host said that the society made a pretence of play in order to
+conspire against the State," said Zorzi. "It seems to me that this is
+making a pretence of conspiracy, with the chance of death on the
+scaffold, for the sake of dice-playing."
+
+"To tell the truth, I think so too," answered the patrician, leaning
+back in his chair and looking thoughtfully at the young glass-blower.
+"It is more interesting to break a law when you may lose your head for
+it than if you only risk a fine or a year's banishment. I daresay that
+seems complicated to you."
+
+Zorzi laughed.
+
+"If it is only for the sake of the danger," he said, "why not go and
+fight the Turks?"
+
+"I have tried to do my share of that," replied Venier quietly. "So have
+some of the others."
+
+"Contarini?" asked Zorzi.
+
+"No. I believe he has never seen any fighting."
+
+While the two were talking the play had proceeded steadily, and almost
+in silence. Contarini had lost heavily at first and had then won back
+his losses and twice as much more.
+
+"That does not happen often," he said, pushing away the dice and leaning
+back.
+
+Zorzi watched him. The yellow light of the wax candles fell softly upon
+his silky beard and too perfect features, and made splendid shadows in
+the scarlet silk of his coat, and flashed in the precious ruby of the
+ring he wore on his white hand. He seemed a true incarnation of his
+magnificent city, a century before the rest of all Italy in luxury, in
+extravagance, in the art of wasteful trifling with great things which is
+a rich man's way of loving art itself; and there were many others of the
+company who were of the same stamp as he, but whose faces had no
+interest for Zorzi compared with Contarini's. Beside him they were but
+ordinary men in the presence of a young god.
+
+No woman could resist such a man as that, thought the poor waif. It
+would be enough that Marietta's eyes should rest on him one moment, next
+Sunday, when he should be standing by the great pillar in the church,
+and her fate would be sealed then and there, irrevocably. It was not
+because she was only a glass-maker's daughter, brought up in Murano.
+What girl who was human would hesitate to accept such a husband?
+Contarini might choose his wife as he pleased, among the noblest and
+most beautiful in Italy. One or both of two reasons would explain why
+his choice had fallen upon Marietta. It was possible that he had seen
+her, and Zorzi firmly believed that no man could see her without loving
+her; and Angelo Beroviero might have offered such an immense dowry for
+the alliance as to tempt Jacopo's father. No one knew how rich old
+Angelo was since he had returned from Florence and Naples, and many said
+that he possessed the secret of making gold; but Zorzi knew better than
+that.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+It was past midnight when Jacopo Contarini barred the door of his house
+and was alone. He took one of the candles from the inner room, put out
+all the others and was already in the hall, when he remembered that he
+had left his winnings on the table. Going back he opened the embroidered
+wallet he wore at his belt and swept the heap of heavy yellow coins into
+it. As the last disappeared into the bag and rang upon the others he
+distinctly heard a sound in the room. He started and looked about him.
+
+It was not exactly the sound of a soft footfall, nor of breathing, but
+it might have been either. It was short and distinct, such a slight
+noise as might be made by drawing the palm of the hand quickly over a
+piece of stuff, or by a short breath checked almost instantly, or by a
+shoeless foot slipping a few inches on a thick carpet. Contarini stood
+still and listened, for though he had heard it distinctly he had no
+impression of the direction whence it had come. It was not repeated, and
+he began to search the room carefully.
+
+He could find nothing. The single window, high above the floor, was
+carefully closed and covered by a heavy curtain which could not
+possibly have moved in the stillness. The tapestry was smoothly drawn
+and fastened upon the four walls. There was no furniture in the room but
+a big table and the benches and chairs. Above the tapestries the bare
+walls were painted, up to the carved ceiling. There was nothing to
+account for the noise. Contarini looked nervously over his shoulder as
+he left the room, and more than once again as he went up the marble
+staircase, candle in hand. There is probably nothing more disturbing to
+people of ordinary nerves than a sound heard in a lonely place and for
+which it is impossible to find a reason.
+
+When he reached the broad landing he smiled at himself and looked back a
+last time, shading the candle with his hand, so as to throw the light
+down the staircase. Then he entered the apartment and locked himself in.
+Having passed through the large square vestibule and through a small
+room that led from it, he raised the latch of the next door very
+cautiously, shaded the candle again and looked in. A cool breeze almost
+put out the light.
+
+"I am not asleep," said a sweet young voice. "I am here by the window."
+
+He smiled happily at the words. The candle-light fell upon a woman's
+face, as he went forward--such a face as men may see in dreams, but
+rarely in waking life.
+
+Half sitting, half lying, she rested in Eastern fashion among the silken
+cushions of a low divan. The open windows of the balcony overlooked the
+low houses opposite, and the night breeze played with the little
+ringlets of her glorious hair. Her soft eyes looked up to her lover's
+face with infinite trustfulness, and their violet depths were like clear
+crystal and as tender as the twilight of a perfect day. She looked at
+him, her head thrown back, one ivory arm between it and the cushion, the
+other hand stretched out to welcome his. Her mouth was like a southern
+rose when there is dew on the smooth red leaves. In a maze of creamy
+shadows, the fine web of her garment followed the lines of her resting
+limbs in delicate folds, and one small white foot was quite uncovered.
+Her fan of ostrich feathers lay idle on the Persian carpet.
+
+"Come, my beloved," she said. "I have waited long."
+
+Contarini knelt down, and first he kissed the arching instep, and then
+her hand, that felt like a young dove just stirring under his touch, and
+his lips caressed the satin of her arm, and at last, with a fierce
+little choking cry, they found her own that waited for them, and there
+was no more room for words. In the silence of the June night one kiss
+answered another, and breath mingled with breath, and sigh with sigh.
+
+At last the young man's head rested against her shoulder among the
+cushions. Then the Georgian woman opened her eyes slowly and glanced
+down at his face, while her hand stroked and smoothed his hair, and he
+could not see the strange smile on her wonderful lips. For she knew that
+he could not see it, and she let it come and go as it would, half in
+pity and half in scorn.
+
+"I knew you would come," she said, bending her head a little nearer to
+his.
+
+"When I do not, you will know that I am dead," he answered almost
+faintly, and he sighed.
+
+"And then I shall go to you," she said, but as she spoke, she smiled
+again to herself. "I have heard that in old times, when the lords of the
+earth died, their most favourite slaves were killed upon the funeral
+pile, that their souls might wait upon their master's in the world
+beyond."
+
+"Yes. It is true."
+
+"And so I will be your slave there, as I am here, and the night that
+lasts for ever shall seem no longer than this summer night, that is too
+short for us."
+
+"You must not call yourself a slave, Arisa," answered Jacopo.
+
+"What am I, then? You bought me with your good gold from Aristarchi the
+Greek captain, in the slave market. Your steward has the receipt for the
+money among his accounts! And there is the Greek's written guarantee,
+too, I am sure, promising to take me back and return the money if I was
+not all he told you I was. Those are my documents of nobility, my
+patents of rank, preserved in your archives with your own!"
+
+She spoke playfully, smiling to herself as she stroked his hair. But he
+caught her hand tenderly and brought it to his lips, holding it there.
+
+"You are more free than I," he said. "Which of us two is the slave? You
+who hold me, or I who am held? This little hand will never let me go."
+
+"I think you would come back to me," she answered. "But if I ran away,
+would you follow me?"
+
+"You will not run away." He spoke quietly and confidently, still holding
+her hand, as if he were talking to it, while he felt the breath of her
+winds upon his forehead.
+
+"No," she said, and there was a little silence.
+
+"I have but one fear," he began, at last. "If I were ruined, what would
+become of you?"
+
+"Have you lost at play again to-night?" she asked, and in her tone there
+was a note of anxiety.
+
+Contarini laughed low, and felt for the wallet at his aide. He held it
+up to show how heavy it was with the gold, and made her take it. She
+only kept it a moment, but while it was in her hand her eyelids were
+half closed as if she were guessing at the weight, for he could not see
+her face.
+
+"I won all that," he said. "To-morrow you shall have the pearls."
+
+"How good you are to me! But should you not keep the money? You may need
+it. Why do you talk of ruin?"
+
+She knew that he would give her all he had, she almost guessed that he
+would commit a crime rather than lack gold to give her.
+
+"You do not know my father!" he answered. "When he is displeased he
+threatens to let me starve. He will cut me off some day, and I shall
+have to turn soldier for a living. Would that not be ruin? You know his
+last scheme--he wishes me to marry the daughter of a rich glass-maker."
+
+"I know." Arisa laughed contemptuously, "Great joy may your bride have
+of you! Is she really rich?"
+
+"Yes. But you know that I will not marry her."
+
+"Why not?" asked Arisa quite simply.
+
+Contarini started and looked up at her face in the dim light. She was
+bending down to him with a very loving look.
+
+"Why should you not marry?" she asked again. "Why do you start and look
+at me so strangely? Do you think I should care? Or that I am afraid of
+another woman for you?"
+
+"Yes. I should have thought that you would be jealous." He still gazed
+at her in astonishment.
+
+"Jealous!" she cried, and as she laughed she shook her beautiful head,
+and the gold of her hair glittered in the flickering candle-light.
+"Jealous? I? Look at me! Is she younger than I? I was eighteen years old
+the other day. If she is younger than I, she is a child--shall I be
+jealous of children? Is she taller, straighter, handsomer than I am?
+Show her to me, and I will laugh in her face! Can she sing to you, as I
+sing, in the summer nights, the songs you like and those I learned by
+the Kura in the shadow of Kasbek? Is her hair brighter than mine, is her
+hand softer, is her step lighter? Jealous? Not I! Will your rich wife be
+your slave? Will she wake for you, sing for you, dance for you, rise up
+and lie down at your bidding, work for you, live for you, die for you,
+as I will? Will she love you as I can love, caress you to sleep, or wake
+you with kisses at your dear will?"
+
+"No--ah no! There is no woman in the world but you."
+
+"Then I am not jealous of the rest, least of all, of your young bride. I
+will wager with myself against all her gold for your life, and I shall
+win--I have won already! Am I not trying to persuade you that you should
+marry?"
+
+"I have not even seen her. Her father sent me a message to-night,
+bidding me go to church on Sunday and stand beside a certain pillar."
+
+"To see and be seen," laughed Arisa. "It is not a fair exchange! She
+will look at the handsomest man in the world--hush! That is the truth.
+And you will see a little, pale, red-haired girl with silly blue eyes,
+staring at you, her wide mouth open and her clumsy hands hanging down.
+She will look like the wooden dolls they dress in the latest Venetian
+fashion to send to Paris every year, that the French courtiers may know
+what to wear! And her father will hurry her along, for fear that you
+should look too long at her and refuse to marry such a thing, even for
+Marco Polo's millions!"
+
+Contarini laughed carelessly at the description.
+
+"Give me some wine," he said. "We will drink her health."
+
+Arisa rose with the grace of a young goddess, her hair tumbling over her
+bare shoulders in a splendid golden confusion. Contarini watched her
+with possessive eyes, as she went and came back, bringing him the drink.
+She brought him yellow wine of Chios in a glass calix of Murano, blown
+air-thin upon a slender stem and just touched here and there with drops
+of tender blue.
+
+"A health to the bride of Jacopo Contarini!" she said, with a ringing
+little laugh.
+
+Then she set the wine to her lips, so that they were wet with it, and
+gave him the glass; and as she stooped to give it, her hair fell forward
+and almost hid her from him.
+
+"A health to the shower of gold!" he said, and he drank.
+
+She sat down beside him, crossing her feet like an Eastern woman, and he
+set the empty glass carelessly upon the marble floor, as though it had
+been a thing of no price.
+
+"That glass was made at her father's furnace," he said.
+
+"A pity he could not have made his daughter of glass too," answered
+Arisa.
+
+"Graceful and silent?"
+
+"And easily destroyed! But if I say that, you will think me jealous, and
+I am not. She will bring you wealth. I wish her a long life, long enough
+to understand that she has been sold to you for your good name, like a
+slave, as I was sold, but that you gave gold for me because you wanted
+me for myself, whereas you want nothing of her but her gold."
+
+"But for that--" Contarini seemed to be hesitating. "I never meant to
+marry her," he added.
+
+"And but for that, you would not! But for that! But for the only thing
+which I have not to give you! I wish the world were mine, with all the
+rich secret things in it, the myriads of millions of diamonds in the
+earth, the thousand rivers of gold that lie deep in the mountain rocks,
+and all mankind, and all that mankind has, from end to end of it! Then
+you should have it all for your own, and you would not need to marry the
+little red-haired girl with the fish's mouth!"
+
+Contarini laughed again.
+
+"Have you seen her, that you can describe her so well? She may have
+black hair. Who knows?"
+
+"Yes. Perhaps it is black, thin and coarse like the hair on a mule's
+tail; and she has black eyes, like ripe olives set in the white of a
+hard-boiled egg; and she has a dark skin like Spanish leather which
+shines when she is hot and is grey when she is cold; and a black down on
+her upper lip; and teeth like a young horse. I hate those dark women!"
+
+"But you have never seen her! She may be very pretty."
+
+"Pretty, then! She shall be as you choose. She shall have a round face,
+round eyes, a round nose and a round mouth! Her face shall be pink and
+white, her eyes shall be of blue glass and her hair shall be as smooth
+and yellow as fresh butter. She shall have little fat white hands like a
+healthy baby, a double chin and a short waist. Then she will be what
+people call pretty."
+
+"Yes," assented Jacopo. "That is very amusing. But just suppose, for the
+sake of discussion--it is impossible, of course, but suppose it--that
+instead of there being only one perfectly beautiful woman in the world,
+whose name is Arisa, there should be two, and that the name of the other
+chanced to be Marietta Beroviero."
+
+Arisa raised her eyes and gazed steadily at Jacopo.
+
+"You have seen her," she said in a tone of conviction. "She is
+beautiful."
+
+"No. I give you my word that I have not seen her. I only wanted to know
+what you would do then."
+
+"I do not believe that any woman is as beautiful as I am," answered the
+Georgian, with the quiet simplicity of a savage.
+
+"But if there were one, and you saw her?" insisted the man, to see what
+she would say.
+
+"We could not both live. One of us would kill the other."
+
+"I believe you would," said Jacopo, watching her face.
+
+She had forgotten his presence while she spoke; a fierce hardness had
+come into her eyes, and her upper lip was a little raised, in a cruel
+expression, just showing her teeth. He was surprised.
+
+"I never saw you like that," he said.
+
+"You should not make me think of killing," she answered, suddenly
+leaving her seat and kneeling beside him on the divan. "It is not good
+to think too much of killing--it makes one wish to do it."
+
+"Then try and kill me with kisses," he said, looking into her eyes, that
+were growing tender again.
+
+"You would not know you were dying," she whispered, her lips quite close
+to his.
+
+As she kissed him, she loosened the collar from his white throat, and
+smoothed his thick hair back from his forehead upon the pillow, and she
+saw how pale he was, under her touch.
+
+But by and by he fell asleep, and then she very softly drew her arm from
+beneath his tired head, and slipped from his side, and stood up, with a
+little sigh of relief. The candle had burned to the socket; she blew it
+out.
+
+It was still an hour before dawn when she left the room, lifting the
+heavy curtain that hung before the door of her inner chamber. There, a
+faint light was burning before a shrine in a silver cup filled with oil.
+As she fastened the door noiselessly behind her, a man caught her in his
+arms, lifting her off her feet like a child.
+
+Shaggy black hair grew low upon his bossy forehead, his dark eyes were
+fierce and bloodshot, a rough beard only half concealed the huge jaw and
+iron lips. He was half clad, in shirt and hose, and the muscles of his
+neck and arms stood out like brown ropes as he pressed the beautiful
+creature to his broad chest.
+
+"I thought he would never sleep to-night," she whispered.
+
+Her eyelids drooped, and her cheeks grew deadly white, and the strong
+man felt the furious beating of her heart against his own breast. He was
+Aristarchi, the Greek captain who had sold her for a slave, and she
+loved him.
+
+In the wild days of sea-fighting among the Greek islands he had taken a
+small trading galley that had been driven out of her course. He left not
+a man of her crew alive to tell whether she had been Turkish or
+Christian, and he took all that was worth taking of her poor cargo. The
+only prize of any price was the captive Georgian girl who was being
+brought westward to be sold, like thousands of others in those days,
+with little concealment and no mystery, in one of the slave markets of
+northern Italy. Aristarchi claimed her for himself, as his share of the
+booty, but his men knew her value. Standing shoulder to shoulder between
+him and her, they drew their knives and threatened to cut her to pieces,
+if he would not promise to sell her as she was, when they should come to
+land, and share the price with them. They judged that she must be worth
+a thousand or fifteen hundred pieces of gold, for she was more beautiful
+than any woman they had ever seen, and they had already heard her
+singing most sweetly to herself, as if she were quite sure that she was
+in no danger, because she knew her own value. So Aristarchi was forced
+to consent, cursing them; and night and day they guarded her door
+against him, till they had brought her safe to Venice, and delivered her
+to the slave-dealers.
+
+Then Aristarchi sold all that he had, except his ship, and it all
+brought far too little to buy such a slave. She would have gone with
+him, for she had seen that he was stronger than other men and feared
+neither God nor man, but she was well guarded, and he was only allowed
+to talk with her through a grated window, like those at convent gates.
+
+She was not long in the dealers' house, for word was brought to all the
+young patricians of Venice, and many of them bid against each other for
+her, in the dealers' inner room, till Contarini outbid them all, saying
+that he could not live without her, though the price should ruin him,
+and because he had not enough gold he gave the dealers, besides money, a
+marvellous sword with a jewelled hilt, which one of his forefathers had
+taken at the siege of Constantinople, and which some said had belonged
+to the Emperor Justinian himself, nine hundred years ago.
+
+Then Aristarchi and his men paid the dealers their commission and took
+the money and the sword. But before he went from the house, the Greek
+captain begged leave to see Arisa once more at the grating, and he told
+her that come what might he should steal her away. She bade him not to
+be in too great haste, and she promised that if he would wait, he should
+have with her more gold than her new master had given for her, for she
+would take all he had from him, little by little; and when they had
+enough they would leave Venice secretly, and live in a grand manner in
+Florence, or in Rome, or in Sicily. For she never doubted but that he
+would find some way of coming to her, though she were guarded more
+closely than in the slave-dealers' house, where the windows were grated
+and armed men slept before the door, and one of the dealers watched all
+night.
+
+More than a year had passed since then; the strong Greek knew every
+corner of the house of the Agnus Dei, and every foothold under Arisa's
+windows, from the water to the stone sill, by which he could help
+himself a little as he went up hand over hand by the knotted silk rope
+that would have cut to the bone any hands but his. She kept it hidden in
+a cushioned footstool in her inner room. Many a risk he had run, and
+more than once in winter he had slipped down the rope with haste to let
+himself gently into the icy water, and he had swum far down the dark
+canal to a landing-place. For he was a man of iron.
+
+So it came about that Jacopo Contarini lived in a fool's paradise, in
+which he was not only the chief fool himself, but was moreover in bodily
+danger more often than he knew. For though Aristarchi had hitherto
+managed to escape being seen, he would have killed Jacopo with his naked
+hands if the latter had ever caught him, as easily as a boy wrings a
+bird's neck, and with as little scruple of conscience.
+
+The Georgian loved him for his hirsute strength, for his fearlessness,
+even his violence and dangerous temper. He dominated her as naturally as
+she controlled her master, whose vacillating nature and love of idle
+ease filled her with contempt. It was for the sake of gold that she
+acted her part daily and nightly, with a wisdom and unwavering skill
+that were almost superhuman; and the Greek ruffian agreed to the
+bargain, and had been in no haste to carry her off, as he might have
+done at any time. She hoarded the money she got from Jacopo, to give it
+by stealth to Aristarchi, who hid their growing wealth in a safe place
+where it was always ready; but she kept her jewels always together, in
+case of an unexpected flight, since she dared not sell them nor give
+them to the Greek, lest they should be missed.
+
+Of late it had seemed to them both that the time for their final action
+was at hand, for it had been clear to Arisa that Jacopo was near the end
+of his resources, and that his father was resolved to force him to
+change his life. There were days when he was reduced to borrowing money
+for his actual needs, and though an occasional stroke of good fortune at
+play temporarily relieved him, Arisa was sure that he was constantly
+sinking deeper into debt. But within the week, the aspect of his affairs
+had changed. The marriage with Marietta had been proposed, and Arisa had
+made a discovery. She told Aristarchi everything, as naturally as she
+would have concealed everything from Contarini.
+
+"We shall be rich," she said, twining her white arms round his swarthy
+neck and looking up into his murderous eyes with something like genuine
+adoration. "We shall get the wife's dowry for ourselves, by degrees,
+every farthing of it, and it shall be the dower of Aristarchi's bride
+instead. I shall not be portionless. You shall not be ashamed of me when
+you meet your old friends."
+
+"Ashamed!" His arm pressed her to him till she longed to cry out for
+pain, yet she would not have had him less rough.
+
+"You are so strong!" she gasped in a broken whisper. "Yes--a little
+looser--so! I can speak now. You must go to Murano to-morrow and find
+out all about this Angelo Beroviero and his daughter. Try to see her,
+and tell me whether she is pretty, but most of all learn whether she is
+really rich."
+
+"That is easy enough. I will go to the furnace and offer to buy a cargo
+of glass for Sicily."
+
+"But you will not take it?" asked Arisa in sudden anxiety lest he should
+leave her to make the voyage.
+
+"No, no! I will make inquiries. I will ask for a sort of glass that does
+not exist."
+
+"Yes," she said, reassured. "Do that. I must know if the girl is rich
+before I marry him to her."
+
+"But can you make him marry her at all?" asked Aristarchi.
+
+"I can make him do anything I please. We drank to the health of the
+bride to-night, in a goblet made by her father! The wine was strong, and
+I put a little syrup of poppies into it. He will not wake for hours.
+What is the matter?"
+
+She felt the rough man shaking beside her, as if he were in an ague.
+
+"I was laughing," he said, when he could speak. "It is a good jest. But
+is there no danger in all this? Is it quite impossible that he should
+take a liking for his wife?"
+
+"And leave me?" Arisa's whisper was hot with indignation at the mere
+thought. "Then I suppose you would leave me for the first pretty girl
+with a fortune who wanted to marry you!"
+
+"This Contarini is such a fool!" answered Aristarchi contemptuously, by
+way of explanation and apology.
+
+Arisa was instantly pacified.
+
+"If he should be foolish enough for that, I have means that will keep
+him," she answered.
+
+"I do not see how you can force him to do anything except by his passion
+for you."
+
+"I can. I was not going to tell you yet--you always make me tell you
+everything, like a child."
+
+"What is it?" asked the Greek. "Have you found out anything new about
+him? Of course you must tell me."
+
+"We hold his life in our hands," she said quietly, and Aristarchi knew
+that she was not exaggerating the truth.
+
+She began to tell him how this was the third time that a number of
+masked men had come to the house an hour after dark, and had stayed till
+midnight or later, and how Contarini had told her that they came to play
+at dice where they were safe from interruption, and that on these nights
+the servants were sent to their quarters at sunset on pain of dismissal
+if Jacopo found them about the house, but that they also received
+generous presents of money to keep them silent.
+
+"The man is a fool!" said Aristarchi again. "He puts himself in their
+power."
+
+"He is much more completely in ours," answered Arisa. "The servants
+believe that his friends come to play dice. And so they do. But they
+come for something more serious."
+
+Aristarchi moved his massive head suddenly to an attitude of profound
+attention.
+
+"They are plotting against the Republic," whispered Arisa. "I can hear
+all they say."
+
+"Are you sure?"
+
+"I tell you I can hear every word. I can almost see them. Look here.
+Come with me."
+
+She rose and he followed her to the corner of the room where the small
+silver lamp burned steadily before an image of Saint Mark, and above a
+heavy kneeling-stool.
+
+"The foot moves," she said, and she was already on her knees on the
+floor, pushing the step.
+
+It slid back with the soft sound Contarini had heard before he came
+upstairs. The upper part of the woodwork was built into the wall.
+
+"They meet in the place below this," Arisa said. "When they are there, I
+can see a glimmer of light. I cannot get my head in. It is too narrow,
+but I hear as if I were with them."
+
+"How did you find this out?" asked Aristarchi on the floor beside her,
+and reaching down into the dark space to explore it with his hand. "It
+is deep," he continued, without waiting for an answer. "There may be
+some passage by which one can get down."
+
+"Only a child could pass. You see how narrow it is. But one can hear
+every sound. They said enough to-night to send them all to the
+scaffold."
+
+"Better they than we if we ever have to make the choice," said the Greek
+ominously.
+
+He had withdrawn his arm and was planted upon his hands and knees, his
+shaggy head hanging over the dark aperture. He was like some rough wild
+beast that has tracked its quarry to earth and crouches before the hole,
+waiting for a victim.
+
+"How did you find this out?" he asked again, looking up.
+
+She was standing by the corner of the stool, now, all her marvellous
+beauty showing in the light of the little lamp and against the wall
+behind her.
+
+"I was saying my prayers here, the first night they met," she said, as
+if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I heard voices, as it
+seemed, under my feet. I tried to push away the stool, and the foot
+moved. That is all."
+
+Aristarchi's jaw dropped a little as he looked up at her.
+
+"Do you say prayers every night?" he asked in wonder.
+
+"Of course I do. Do you never say a prayer?"
+
+"No." He was still staring at her.
+
+"That is very wrong," she said, in the earnest tone a mother might use
+to her little child. "Some harm will befall us, if you do not say your
+prayers."
+
+A slow smile crossed the ruffian's face as he realised that this evil
+woman who was ready to commit the most atrocious deeds out of love for
+him, was still half a child.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+Marietta awoke before sunrise, with a smile on her lips, and as she
+opened her eyes, the world seemed suddenly gladder than ever before, and
+her heart beat in time with it. She threw back the shutters wide to let
+in the June morning as if it were a beautiful living thing; and it
+breathed upon her face and caressed her, and took her in its spirit
+arms, and filled her with itself.
+
+Not a sound broke the stillness, as she looked out, and the glassy
+waters of the canal reflected delicate tints from the sky, palest green
+and faintest violet and amber with all the lovely changing colours of
+the dawn. By the footway a black barge was moored, piled high with round
+uncovered baskets of beads, white, blue, deep red and black, waiting to
+be taken over to Venice where they would be threaded for the East, and
+the colours stood out in strong contrast with the grey stones, the faint
+reflections in the water and the tender sky above. There were flowers on
+the window-sill, a young rose with opening buds, growing in a red
+earthen jar, and a pot of lavender just bursting into flower, with a
+sweet geranium beside it and some rosemary. Zorzi had planted them all
+for her, and her serving-woman had helped her to fasten the pots in the
+window, because it would have been out of the question that any man
+except her father should enter her room, even when she was not there.
+But they were Zorzi's flowers, and she bent down and smelt their
+fragrance. On a table behind her a single rose hung over the edge of a
+tall glass with a slender stem, almost the counterpart of the one in
+which Contarini had drunk her health at midnight. Her father had given
+it to her as it came from the annealing oven, still warm after long
+hours of cooling with many others like it. She loved it for its grace
+and lightness, and as for the rose, it was the one she had made Zorzi
+give back to her yesterday. She meant to keep it in water till it faded,
+and then she would press it between the first page and the binding of
+her parchment missal. It would keep some of its faint scent, perhaps,
+and if any one saw it, no one would ever guess whence it came.
+
+It meant a great thing to her, for it had told her Zorzi's secret, which
+he had kept so well. He should know hers some day, but not yet, and her
+drooping lids could hide it if it ever came into her eyes. It was too
+soon to let him know that she loved him. That was one reason for hiding
+it, but she had another. If her father guessed that she loved the waif,
+it would fare ill with him. She fancied she could see the old man's
+fiery brown eyes and hear his angry voice. Poor Zorzi would be driven
+from Murano and Venice, never to set foot again within the boundaries of
+the Republic; for Beroviero was a man of weight and influence, of whom
+Venice was proud.
+
+Youth would be very sad if it counted time and labour as it is reckoned
+and valued by mature age. Some day Zorzi would be no longer a mere paid
+helper, calling himself a servant when his humour was bitter, tending a
+fire on his knees and grinding coloured earths and salts in a mortar. He
+had the understanding of the glorious art, and the true love of it, with
+the magic touch; he would make a name for himself in spite of the harsh
+Venetian law, and some day his master would be proud to call him son.
+There would not be many months to wait. Months or years, what mattered,
+since she loved him and was at last quite sure that he loved her?
+To-day, that was enough. She would go over to the glass-house and sit in
+the garden, by the rose he had planted, and now and then she would go
+into the close furnace room where he worked with her father, or Zorzi
+would come out for something; she should be near him, she should see his
+face and hear his quiet voice, and she would say to herself: He loves
+me, he loves me--as often as she chose, knowing that it was true.
+
+Since she knew it, she was sure that she should see it in his face, that
+had hidden it from her so long. There would be glances when he thought
+she was not watching him, his colour would come and go, as yesterday,
+and he would do her some little service, now and then, in which the
+sweet truth, against his will, should tell itself to her again and
+again. It would be a delicious and ever-remembered day, each minute a
+pearl, each hour a chaplet of jewels, from golden sunrise to golden
+sunset, all perfect through and through.
+
+There were so many little things she could watch in him, now that she
+knew the truth, things that had long meant nothing and would mean
+volumes to-day. She would watch him, and then call him suddenly and see
+him try to hide the little gladness he would feel as he turned to her;
+and when they were alone a moment, she would ask him whether he had
+remembered to forget Jacopo Contarini's name; and some day, but not for
+a long time yet, she would drop a rose again, and she would turn as he
+picked it up, but she would not make him give it back to her, and in
+that way he should know that she loved him. She must not think of that,
+for it was too soon, yet she could almost see his face as it would be
+when he knew.
+
+Yesterday her father had talked again of her marriage. A whole month had
+passed since he had even alluded to it, but this time he had spoken of
+it as a certainty; and she had opened her eyes wide in surprise. She did
+not believe that it was to be. How could she marry a man she did not
+love? How could she love any man but Zorzi? They might show her twenty
+Venetian patricians, that she might choose among them. Meanwhile she
+would show her indifference. Nothing was easier than to put on an
+inscrutable expression which betrayed nothing, but which, as she knew,
+sometimes irritated her father beyond endurance.
+
+He had always promised that she should not be married against her will,
+as many girls were. Then why should she marry Contarini, any more than
+any other man except the one she had chosen? She need only say that
+Contarini did not please her, and her father would certainly not try to
+use force. There was therefore nothing to fear, and since her first
+surprise was over, she felt sure of appearing quite indifferent. She
+would put the thought out of her mind and begin the day with the perfect
+certainty that the marriage was altogether impossible.
+
+She looked out over her flowers. The door of the glass-house was open
+now, and the burly porter was sweeping; she could hear the cypress broom
+on the flagstones inside, and presently it appeared in sight while the
+porter was still invisible, and it whisked out a mixture of black dust
+and bread crumbs and bits of green salad leaves, and the old man came
+out and swept everything across the footway into the canal. As he turned
+to go back, the workmen came trooping across the bridge to the
+furnaces--pale men with intent faces, very different from ordinary
+working people. For each called himself an artist, and was one; and each
+knew that so far as the law was concerned the proudest noble in Venice
+could marry his daughter without the least derogation from patrician
+dignity. The workmen differed from her own father not in station, but
+only in the degree of their prosperity.
+
+If Zorzi could ever have been one of them the rest would have been
+simple enough. But he could not, any more than a black man could turn
+white at will. There was no evasion of law by which a man not born a
+Venetian could ever be a glass-blower, or could ever acquire the
+privileges possessed from birth by one of those shabby, pale young men
+who were crowding past the porter to go to their hard day's work. Yet
+dexterous as they were, there was not one that had his skill, there was
+not one that could compare with him as an artist, as a workman, as a
+man. No Indian caste, no ancient nobility, no mystic priesthood ever set
+up a barrier so impassable between itself and the outer world as that
+which defended the glass-blowers of Murano for centuries against all who
+wished to be initiated. Even the boys who fed the fires all night were
+of the calling, and by and by would become workmen, and perhaps masters,
+legally almost the equals of the splendid nobles who sat in the Grand
+Council over there in Venice.
+
+Zorzi's very existence was an anomaly. He had no social right to be what
+he was, and he knew it when he called himself a servant, for the cruel
+law would not allow him to be anything else so long as he helped Angelo
+Beroviero.
+
+Suddenly, while Marietta watched the men, Zorzi was there among them,
+coming out as they went in. He must have risen early, she thought, for
+she did not know that he had slept in the laboratory. He looked pale and
+thin as he flattened himself against the door-post to let a workman
+pass, and then slipped out himself. No one greeted him, even by a nod.
+Marietta knew that they hated him because he was in her father's
+confidence; and somehow, instead of pitying him, she was glad.
+
+It seemed natural that he should not be one of them, that he should pass
+them with quiet indifference and that they should feel for him the
+instinctive dislike which most inferiors feel for those above them.
+Doubtless, they looked down upon him, or told themselves that they did;
+but in their hearts they knew that a man with such a face was born to be
+their teacher and their master, and the girl was proud of him. He
+treated them with more civility than they bestowed on him, but it was
+the courtesy of a superior who would not assert himself, who would scorn
+to thrust himself forward or in any way to claim what was his by right,
+if it were not freely offered. Marietta drew back a little, so that she
+could just see him between the flowers, without being seen.
+
+He stood still, looking down at the canal till the last of the men had
+passed in. Then, before he went on, he raised his eyes slowly to
+Marietta's window, not guessing that her own were answering his from
+behind the rosemary and the geranium. His pale face was very sad and
+thoughtful as he looked up. She had never seen him look so tired. The
+porter had shut the door, which he never allowed to remain open one
+moment longer than was absolutely necessary, and Zorzi stood quite alone
+on the footway. As he looked, his face softened and grew so tender that
+the girl who watched him unseen stretched out her arms towards him with
+unconscious yearning, and her heart beat very fast, so that she felt the
+pulses in her throat almost choking her; yet her face was pale and her
+soft lips were dry and cold. For it was not all happiness that she
+felt; there was a sweet mysterious pain with it, which was nowhere, and
+yet all through her, that was weakness and yet might turn to strength, a
+hunger of longing for something dear and unknown and divine, without
+which all else was an empty shadow. Then her eyes opened to him, as he
+had never seen them, blue as the depth of sapphires and dewy with love
+mists of youth's early spring; it was impossible that he should stand
+there, just beyond the narrow water, and not feel that she saw him and
+loved him, and that her heart was crying out the true words he never
+hoped to hear.
+
+But he did not know. And all at once his eyes fell, and she could almost
+see that he sighed as he turned wearily away and walked with bent head
+towards the wooden bridge. She would have given anything to look out and
+see him cross and come nearer, but she remembered that she was not yet
+dressed, and she blushed as she drew further back into the room,
+gathering the thin white linen up to her throat, and frightened at the
+mere thought that he should catch sight of her. She would not call her
+serving-woman yet, she would be alone a little while longer. She threw
+back her russet hair, and bent down to smell the rose in the tall glass.
+The sun was risen now and the first slanting beams shot sideways through
+her window from the right. The day that was to be so sweet had begun
+most sweetly. She had seen him already, far earlier than usual; she
+would see him many times before the little brown maid crossed the canal
+to bring her home in the evening.
+
+The thought put an end to her meditations, and she was suddenly in haste
+to be dressed, to be out of the house, to be sitting in the little
+garden of the glass-house where Zorzi must soon pass again. She called
+and clapped her hands, and her serving-woman entered from the outer room
+in which she slept. She brought a great painted earthenware dish, on
+which fruit was arranged, half of a small yellow melon fresh from the
+cool storeroom, a little heap of dark red cherries and a handful of ripe
+plums. There was white wheaten bread, too, and honey from Aquileia, in a
+little glass jar, and there was a goblet of cold water. The maid set the
+big dish on the table, beside the glass that held Zorzi's rose, and
+began to make ready her mistress's clothes.
+
+Marietta tasted the melon, and it was cool and aromatic, and she stood
+eating a slice of it, just where she could look through the flowers on
+the window-sill at the door of the glass-house, so that if Zorzi passed
+again she should see him. He did not come, and she was a little
+disappointed; but the melon was very good, and afterwards she ate a few
+cherries and spread a spoonful of honey on a piece of bread, and nibbled
+at it; and she drank some of the water, looking out of the window over
+the glass.
+
+"Was it always so beautiful?" she asked, speaking to herself, in a sort
+of wonder at what she felt, as she set the glass upon the table.
+
+Nella, the maid, turned quickly to her with a look of inquiry.
+
+"What?" she asked. "What is beautiful? The weather? It is summer! Of
+course it is fine. Did you expect the north wind to-day, or rain from
+the southwest?"
+
+Marietta laughed, sweet and low. The little maid always amused her.
+There was something cheerful in the queer little scolding sentences,
+spoken with a rising inflection on almost every word, musical and yet
+always seeming to protest gently against anything Marietta said.
+
+"I know of something much more beautiful than the weather," Nella added,
+seeing that she got no answer except a laugh. "Do you wish to know what
+is more beautiful than a summer's day?"
+
+"Oh, I know the answer to that!" cried Marietta. "You used to catch me
+in that way when I was a small girl."
+
+"Well, my little lady, what is the answer? I have said nothing."
+
+"What is more beautiful than a summer's day? Why, two summer's days, of
+course! I was always dreadfully disappointed when you gave me that
+answer, for I expected something wonderful."
+
+Nella shook her head as she unfolded the fine linen things, and uttered
+a sort of little clucking sound, meant to show her disapproval of such
+childish jests.
+
+"Tut, tut, tut! We are grown up now! Are we children? No, we are a young
+lady, beautiful and serious! Tut, tut, tut! That you should remember
+the nonsense I used to talk to make you stop crying for your mother,
+blessed soul! And I myself was so full of tears that a drop of water
+would have drowned me! But all passes, praise be to God!"
+
+"I hope not," said Marietta, but so low that the woman did not hear.
+
+"I will ask you a riddle," continued Nella presently.
+
+"Oh no!" laughed Marietta. "I could no more guess a riddle to-day than I
+could give a dissertation on theology. Riddles are for rainy days in
+winter, when we sit by the fire in the evening wishing it were morning
+again. I know the great riddle at last--I have found it out. It is the
+most beautiful thing in the world."
+
+"Then it is true," observed Nella, looking at her with satisfaction.
+
+"What?" asked the young girl carelessly.
+
+"That you are to be married."
+
+"I hope so," answered Marietta. "Some day, but there is time
+yet--perhaps a very long time."
+
+"As long as it will take to make a wedding gown embroidered with gold
+and pearls. Not a day longer than that." Nella looked very wise and
+watched her mistress's face.
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"The master has ordered just such a gown. That is what I mean. Do you
+think I would talk of such a beautiful thing, just to make you unhappy,
+if you were not to have one? But you will not forget poor Nella, my
+little lady? You will take me with you to Venice?"
+
+"Then you think I am to marry some one from the city? What is his name?"
+
+"The master knows. That is enough. But it must be the Doge's son, or at
+least the son of the Admiral of Venice. It will take two months to
+embroider the gown. That means that you are to be married in August, of
+course."
+
+"Do you think so?" asked Marietta indifferently.
+
+"I know it." And Nella gave a discontented little snort, for she did not
+like to have her conclusions questioned. "Am I half-witted? Am I in my
+dotage? Am I an imbecile? The gown is ordered, and that is the truth. Do
+you think the master has ordered a wedding gown embroidered with gold
+and pearls for himself?"
+
+Marietta tossed her hair back and shook it down her shoulders, laughing
+gaily at the idea.
+
+"Ah!" cried Nella indignantly. "Now you are mocking me! You are making a
+laughing-stock of your poor Nella! It is too bad! But you will be sorry
+that you laughed at me, when I am not here to bring you melons and
+cherries and tell you the news in the morning! You will say: 'Poor
+Nella! She was not such an ignorant person after all!' That is what you
+will say. I tell you that if your father orders a wedding gown, you are
+the only person in the house who can wear it, and he would not order it
+just to see how beautiful you would be as a bride! He is a serious man,
+the master, he is grave, he is wise! He does nothing without much
+reflection, and what he does is well done. He says, 'My daughter is to
+be married, therefore I will order a splendid dress for her.' That is
+what he says, and he orders it."
+
+"That has an air of reason," said Marietta gravely. "I did not mean to
+laugh at you."
+
+"Oh, very well! If you thought your father unreasonable, what should I
+say? He does not say one thing and do another, your father. And I will
+tell you something. They will make the gown even handsomer than he
+ordered it, because he is very rich, and he will grumble and scold, but
+in the end he will pay, for the honour of the house. Then you will wear
+the gown, and all Venice will see you in it on your wedding day."
+
+"That will be a great thing for the Venetians," observed the young girl,
+trying not to smile.
+
+"They will see that there are rich men in Murano, too. It will be a
+lesson for their intolerable vanity."
+
+"Are the Venetians so very vain?"
+
+"Well! Was not my husband a Venetian, blessed soul? It seems to me that
+I should know. Have I forgotten how he would fasten a cock's feather in
+his cap, almost like a gentleman, and hang his cloak over one shoulder,
+and pull up his hose till they almost cracked, so as to show off his
+leg? Ah, he had handsome legs, my poor Vito, and he never would use
+anything but pure beeswax to stiffen his mustaches. No, he never would
+use tallow. He was almost like a gentleman!"
+
+Nella's little brown eyes were moist as she recalled her husband's small
+vanities; his dislike of tallow as a cosmetic seemed to affect her
+particularly.
+
+"That is why I say that it will be a lesson to the pride of those
+Venetians to see your marriage," she resumed, after drying her eyes with
+the back of her hand. "And the people of Murano will be there, and all
+the glass-blowers in their guild, since the master is the head of it. I
+suppose Zorzi will manage to be there, too."
+
+Nella spoke the last words in a tone of disapproval.
+
+"Why should Zorzi not be at my wedding?" asked Marietta carelessly.
+
+"Why should he?" asked the serving-woman with unusual bluntness. "But I
+daresay the master will find something for him to do. He is clever
+enough at doing anything."
+
+"Yes--he is clever," assented the young girl. "Why do you not like him?
+Give me some more water--you are always afraid that I shall use too
+much!"
+
+"I have a conscience," grumbled Nella. "The water is brought from far,
+it is paid for, it costs money, we must not use too much of it. Every
+day the boats come with it, and the row of earthen jars in the court is
+filled, and your father pays--he always pays, and pays, and pays, till I
+wonder where the money all comes from. They say he makes gold, over
+there in the furnace."
+
+"He makes glass," answered Marietta. "And if he orders gowns for me
+with pearls and gold, he will not grudge me a jug of water. Why do you
+dislike Zorzi?"
+
+"He is as proud as a marble lion, and as obstinate as a Lombardy mule,"
+explained Nella, with fine imagery. "If that is not enough to make one
+dislike a young man, you shall tell me so! But one of those days he will
+fall. There is trouble for the proud."
+
+"How does his great pride show itself?" asked Marietta. "I have not
+noticed it."
+
+"That would indeed be the end of everything, if he showed his pride to
+you!" Nella was much displeased by the mere suggestion. "But with us it
+is different. He never speaks to the other workmen."
+
+"They never speak to him."
+
+"And quite right, too, since he holds his head so high, with no reason
+at all! But it will not last for ever! I wonder what the master would
+think, for instance, if he knew that Zorzi takes the skiff in the
+evening, and rows himself over to Venice, all alone, and comes back long
+after midnight, and sleeps in the glass-house across the way because he
+cannot get into the house. Zorzi! Zorzi! The master cannot move without
+Zorzi! And where is Zorzi at night? At home and in bed, like a decent
+young man? No. Zorzi is away in Venice, heaven knows where, doing heaven
+knows what! Do you wonder that he is so pale and tired in the morning?
+It seems to me quite natural. Eh? What do you think, my pretty lady?"
+
+Marietta was silent for a moment. It was only a servant's spiteful
+gossip, but it hurt her.
+
+"Are you sure that he goes to Venice alone at night?" she asked, after a
+little pause.
+
+"Am I sure that I live, that I belong to you, and that my name is Nella?
+Is not the boat moored under my window? Did I not hear the chain
+rattling softly last night? I got up and looked out, and I saw Zorzi, as
+I see you, taking the padlock off. I am not blind--praise be to heaven,
+I see. He turned the boat to the left, so he must have been going to
+Venice, and it was at least an hour after the midnight bells when I
+heard the chain again, and I looked out, and there he was. But he did
+not come into the house. And this morning I saw him coming out of the
+glass-house, just as the men went in. He was as pale as a boiled
+chicken."
+
+Marietta had seen him, too, and the coincidence gave colour to the rest
+of the woman's tale, as would have happened if the whole story had been
+an invention instead of being quite true. Nella was combing the girl's
+thick hair, an operation peculiarly conducive to a maid's chattering,
+for she has the certainty that her mistress cannot get away, and must
+therefore listen patiently.
+
+A shadow had fallen on the brightness of Marietta's morning. She was
+paler, too, but she said nothing.
+
+"Of course he was tired," continued Nella. "Did you suppose that he
+would come back with pink cheeks and bright eyes, like a baby from
+baptism, after being out half the night?"
+
+"He is always pale," said Marietta.
+
+"Because he goes to Venice every night," retorted Nella viciously. "That
+is the good reason! Oh, I am sure of it! And besides, I shall watch him,
+now that I know. I shall see him whenever he takes the boat."
+
+"It is none of your business where he goes," answered Marietta. "It does
+not concern any one but himself."
+
+"Oh, indeed!" sneered Nella. "Then the honour of the house does not
+matter! It is no concern of ours! And your father need never know that
+his trusty servant, his clever assistant, his faithful confidant, who
+shares all his secrets, is a good-for-nothing fellow who spends his
+nights in gambling, or drinking, or perhaps in making love to some
+Venetian girl as honourable and well behaved as himself!"
+
+Marietta had grown steadily more angry while Nella was talking. She had
+her father's temper, though she could control it better than he.
+
+"I will find out whether this story is true," she said coldly. "If it is
+not, it will be the worse for you. You shall not serve me any longer,
+unless you can be more careful in what you say."
+
+Nella's jaw dropped and her hands stood still and trembled, the one
+holding the comb upraised, the other gathering a quantity of her
+mistress's hair. Marietta had never spoken to her like this in her life.
+
+"Send me away?" faltered the woman in utter amazement. "Send me away!"
+she repeated, still quite dazed. "But it is impossible--" her voice
+began to break, as if some one were shaking her violently by the
+shoulders. "Oh no, no! You w-ill n-ot--no-o-o!"
+
+The sound grew more piercing as she went on, and the words were soon
+lost, as she broke into a violent fit of hysterical crying.
+
+Marietta's anger subsided as her pity for the poor creature increased.
+She had made a great effort to speak quietly and not to say more than
+she meant, and she had certainly not expected to produce such a
+tremendous commotion. Nella tore her hair, drew her nails down her
+cheeks, as if she would tear them with scratches, rocked herself
+forwards and backwards and from side to side, the tears poured down her
+brown cheeks, she screamed and blubbered and whimpered in quick
+alternation, and in a few moments tumbled into the corner of a big
+chair, a sobbing and convulsed little heap of womanhood.
+
+Marietta tried to quiet her, and was so sorry for her that she could
+almost have cried too, until she remembered the detestable things which
+Nella had said about Zorzi, and which the woman's screams had driven out
+of her memory for an instant. Then she longed to beat her for saying
+them, and still Nella alternately moaned and howled, and twisted herself
+in the corner of the big chair. Marietta wondered whether her servant
+were going mad, and whether this might not be a judgment of heaven for
+telling such atrocious lies about poor Zorzi. In that case it was of
+course deserved, thought she, watching Nella's contortions; but it was
+very sudden.
+
+She made up her mind to call the other women, and turned to go to the
+door. As she did so her skirt caught a comb that lay on the edge of the
+table and swept it off, so that it fell upon the pavement with a dry
+rap. Instantly Nella sat up straight and rubbed her eyes, looking about
+for the cause of the sound. When she saw the comb, the serving-woman's
+instinct returned, and with it her normal condition of mind. She picked
+up the comb with a quick movement, shook her head and began combing
+Marietta's hair again before the girl could sit down.
+
+Peace was restored, for she did not speak again, as she helped her
+mistress to finish dressing; but though Marietta tried to look kindly at
+her once or twice, Nella quite refused to see it, and did her duty
+without ever raising her eyes.
+
+It was soon finished, for the pleasure the young girl had taken in
+making much of the first details of the day that was to be so happy was
+all gone. She did not believe her woman, but there was a cloud over
+everything and she was in haste to get an answer to the question which
+it would not be easy to ask. She must know if Zorzi had been to Venice
+during the night, for until she knew that, all hope of peace was at an
+end. Nella had meant no harm, but she had played the fatal little part
+in which destiny loves to go masking through life's endless play.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+Zorzi had slept but little after he had at last lain down upon the long
+bench in the laboratory, for the scene in which he had been the chief
+actor that night had made a profound impression upon him. There are some
+men who would not make good soldiers but who can face sudden and
+desperate danger with a calmness which few soldiers really possess, and
+which is generally accompanied by some marked superiority of mind; but
+such exceptional natures feel the reaction that follows the perilous
+moment far more than the average fighting man. They are those who
+sometimes stem the rush of panic and turn back whole armies from ruin to
+victorious battle; they are those who spring forward from the crowd to
+save life when some terrible accident has happened, as if they were
+risking nothing, and who generally succeed in what they attempt; but
+they are not men who learn to fight every day as carelessly and
+naturally as they eat, drink or sleep. Their chance of action may come
+but once or twice in a lifetime; yet when it comes it finds them far
+more ready and cool than the average good soldier could ever be. Like
+strength in some men, their courage seems to depend on quality and very
+little on quantity, training or experience.
+
+Zorzi knew very well that although the young gentlemen who were playing
+at conspiracy in Jacopo's house did not constitute a serious danger to
+the Republic, they were fully aware of their own peril, and would not
+have hesitated to take his life if it had not occurred to them that he
+might be useful. His intrepid manner had saved him, but now that the
+night was over he felt such a weariness and lassitude as he had never
+known before.
+
+The adventure had its amusing side, of course. To Zorzi, who knew the
+people well, it was very laughable to think that a score of dissolute
+young patricians should first fancy themselves able to raise a
+revolution against the most firmly established government in Europe, and
+should then squander the privacy which they had bought at a frightful
+risk in mere gambling and dice-playing. But there was nothing humorous
+about the oath he had taken. In the first place, it had been sworn in
+solemn earnest, and was therefore binding upon him; secondly, if he
+broke it, his life would not be worth a day's purchase. He was brave
+enough to have scorned the second consideration, but he was far too
+honourable to try and escape the first. He had made the promises to save
+his life, it was true, and under great pressure, but he would have
+despised himself as a coward if he had not meant to keep them.
+
+And he had solemnly bound himself to respect "the betrothed brides" of
+all the brethren of the company. Marietta was not betrothed to Jacopo
+Contarini yet, but there was no doubt that she would be before many
+days; to "respect" undoubtedly meant that he must not try to win her
+away from her affianced husband; if he had ever dreamt that in some
+fair, fantastically improbable future, Marietta could be his wife, he
+had parted with the right to dream the like again. Therefore, when he
+had stood awhile looking up at her window that morning, he sighed
+heavily and went away.
+
+He had never had any hope that she would love him, much less that he
+could ever marry her, yet he felt that he was parting with the only
+thing in life which he held higher than his art, and that the parting
+was final. For months, perhaps for years, he had never closed his eyes
+to sleep without calling up her face and repeating her name, he had
+never got up in the morning without looking forward to seeing her and
+hearing her voice before he should lie down again. A man more like
+others would have said to himself that no promise could bind him to
+anything more than the performance of an action, or the abstention from
+one, and that the right of dreaming was his own for ever. But Zorzi
+judged differently. He had a sensitiveness that was rather manly than
+masculine; he had scruples of which he was not ashamed, but which most
+men would laugh at; he had delicacies of conscience in his most private
+thoughts such as would have been more natural in a cloistered nun,
+living in ignorance of the world, than in a waif who had faced it at its
+worst, and almost from childhood. Innocent as his dream had been, he
+resolved to part with it, and never to dream it again. He was glad that
+Marietta had taken back the rose he had picked up yesterday; if she had
+not, he would have forced himself to throw it away, and that would have
+hurt him.
+
+So he began his day in a melancholy mood, as having buried out of sight
+for ever something that was very dear to him. In time, his love of his
+art would fill the place of the other love, but on this first day he
+went about in silence, with hungry eyes and tightened lips, like a man
+who is starving and is too proud to ask a charity.
+
+He waited for Beroviero at the door of his house, as he did every
+morning, to attend him to the laboratory. The old man looked at him
+inquiringly, and Zorzi bent his head a little to explain that he had
+done what had been required of him, and he followed his master across
+the wooden bridge. When they were alone in the laboratory, he told as
+much of his story as was necessary.
+
+He had found the lord Jacopo Contarini at his house with a party of
+friends, he said, and he added at once that they were all men. Contarini
+had bidden him speak before them all, but he had whispered his message
+so that only Contarini should hear it. After a time he had been allowed
+to come away. No--Contarini had given no direct answer, he had sent no
+reply; he had only said aloud to his friends that the message he
+received was expected. That was all. The friends who were there? Zorzi
+answered with perfect truth that he did not remember to have seen, any
+of them before.
+
+Beroviero was silent for a while, considering the story.
+
+"He would have thought it discourteous to leave his friends," he said at
+last, "or to whisper an answer to a messenger in their presence. He said
+that he had expected the message, he will therefore come."
+
+To this Zorzi answered nothing, for he was glad not to be questioned
+further about what had happened. Presently Beroviero settled to his work
+with his usual concentration. For many months he had been experimenting
+in the making of fine red glass of a certain tone, of which he had
+brought home a small fragment from one of his journeys. Hitherto he had
+failed in every attempt. He had tried one mixture after another, and had
+produced a score of different specimens, but not one of them had that
+marvellous light in it, like sunshine striking through bright blood,
+which he was striving to obtain. It was nearly three weeks since his
+small furnace had been allowed to go out, and by this time he alone knew
+what the glowing pots contained, for he wrote down very carefully what
+he did and in characters which he believed no one could understand but
+himself.
+
+As usual every morning, he proceeded to make trial of the materials
+fused in the night. The furnace, though not large, held three crucibles,
+before each of which was the opening, still called by the Italian name
+'bocca,' through which the materials are put into the pots to melt into
+glass, and by which the melted glass is taken out on the end of the
+blow-pipe, or in a copper ladle, when it is to be tested by casting it.
+The furnace was arched from end to end, and about the height of a tall
+man; the working end was like a round oven with three glowing openings;
+the straight part, some twenty feet long, contained the annealing oven
+through which the finished pieces were made to move slowly, on iron
+lier-pans, during many hours, till the glass had passed from extreme
+heat almost to the temperature of the air. The most delicate vessels
+ever produced in Murano have all been made in single furnaces, the
+materials being melted, converted into glass and finally annealed, by
+one fire. At least one old furnace is standing and still in use, which
+has existed for centuries, and those made nowadays are substantially
+like it in every important respect.
+
+Zorzi stood holding a long-handled copper ladle, ready to take out a
+specimen of the glass containing the ingredients most lately added. A
+few steps from the furnace a thick and smooth plate of iron was placed
+on a heavy wooden table, and upon this the liquid glass was to be poured
+out to cool.
+
+"It must be time," said Beroviero, "unless the boys forgot to turn the
+sand-glass at one of the watches. The hour is all but run out, and it
+must be the twelfth since I put in the materials."
+
+"I turned it myself, an hour after midnight," said Zorzi, "and also the
+next time, when it was dawn. It runs three hours. Judging by the time of
+sunrise it is running right."
+
+"Then make the trial."
+
+Beroviero stood opposite Zorzi, his face pale with heat and excitement,
+his fiery eyes reflecting the fierce light from the 'bocca' as he bent
+down to watch the copper ladle go in. Zorzi had wrapped a cloth round
+his right hand, against the heat, and he thrust the great spoon through
+the round orifice. Though it was the hundredth time of testing, the old
+man watched his movements with intensest interest.
+
+"Quickly, quickly!" he cried, quite unconscious that he was speaking.
+
+There was no need of hurrying Zorzi. In two steps he had reached the
+table, and the white hot stuff spread out over the iron plate, instantly
+turning to a greenish yellow, then to a pale rose-colour, then to a deep
+and glowing red, as it felt the cool metal. The two men stood watching
+it closely, for it was thin and would soon cool. Zorzi was too wise to
+say anything. Beroviero's look of interest gradually turned into an
+expression of disappointment.
+
+"Another failure," he said, with a resignation which no one would have
+expected in such a man.
+
+His practised eyes had guessed the exact hue of the glass, while it
+still lay on the iron, half cooled and far too hot to touch. Zorzi took
+a short rod and pushed the round sheet till a part of it was over the
+edge of the table.
+
+"It is the best we have had yet," he observed, looking at it.
+
+"Is it?" asked Beroviero with little interest, and without giving the
+glass another glance. "It is not what I am trying to get. It is the
+colour of wine, not of blood. Make something, Zorzi, while I write down
+the result of the experiment."
+
+He took big pen and the sheet of rough paper on which he had already
+noted the proportions of the materials, and he began to write, sitting
+at the large table before the open window. Zorzi took the long iron
+blow-pipe, cleaned it with a cloth and pushed the end through the
+orifice from which he had taken the specimen. He drew it back with a
+little lump of melted glass sticking to it.
+
+Holding the blow-pipe to his lips, he blew a little, and the lump
+swelled, and he swung the pipe sharply in a circle, so that the glass
+lengthened to the shape of a pear, and he blew again and it grew. At the
+'bocca' of the furnace he heated it, for it was cooling quickly; and he
+had his iron pontil ready, as there was no one to help him, and he
+easily performed the feat of taking a little hot glass on it from the
+pot and attaching it to the further end of the fast-cooling pear. If
+Beroviero had been watching him he would have been astonished at the
+skill with which the young man accomplished what it requires two persons
+to do; but Zorzi had tricks of his own, and the pontil supported itself
+on a board while he cracked the pear from the blow-pipe with a wet iron,
+as well as if a boy had held it in place for him; and then heating and
+reheating the piece, he fashioned it and cut it with tongs and shears,
+rolling the pontil on the flat arms of his stool with his left hand,
+and modelling the glass with his right, till at last he let it cool to
+its natural colour, holding it straight downward, and then swinging it
+slowly, so that it should fan itself in the air. It was a graceful calix
+now, of a deep wine red, clear and transparent as claret.
+
+Zorzi turned to the window to show it to his master, not for the sake of
+the workmanship but of the colour. The old man's head was bent over his
+writing; Marietta was standing outside, and her eyes met Zorzi's. He did
+not blush as he had blushed yesterday, when he looked up from the fire
+and saw her; he merely inclined his head respectfully, to acknowledge
+her presence, and then he stood by the table waiting for the master to
+notice him, and not bestowing another glance on the young girl.
+
+Beroviero turned to him at last. He was so used to Marietta's presence
+that he paid no attention to her.
+
+"What is that thing?" he asked contemptuously.
+
+"A specimen of the glass we tried," answered the young man. "I have
+blown it thin to show the colour."
+
+"A man who can have such execrable taste as to make a drinking-cup of
+coloured glass does not deserve to know as much as you do."
+
+"But it is very pretty," said Marietta through the window, and bending
+forward she rested her white hands on the table, among the little heaps
+of chemicals. "Anneal it, and give it to me," she added.
+
+"Keep such a thing in my house?" asked Beroviero scornfully. "Break up
+that rubbish!" he added roughly, speaking to Zorzi.
+
+Without a word Zorzi smashed the calix off the iron into an old earthen
+jar already half full of broken glass. Then he put the pontil in its
+place and went to tend the fire. Marietta left the window and entered
+the room.
+
+"Am I disturbing you?" she asked gently, as she stood by her father.
+
+"No. I have finished writing." He laid down his pen.
+
+"Another failure?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Perhaps I do not bring you good luck with your experiments," suggested
+the girl, leaning down and looking over his shoulder at the crabbed
+writing, so that her cheek almost touched his. "Is that why you wish to
+send me away?"
+
+Beroviero turned in his chair, raised his heavy brows and looked up into
+her face, but said nothing.
+
+"Nella has just told me that you have ordered my wedding gown,"
+continued Marietta.
+
+"We are not alone," said her father in a low voice.
+
+"Zorzi probably knows what is the gossip of the house, and what I have
+been the last to hear," answered the young girl. "Besides, you trust him
+with all your secrets."
+
+"Yes, I trust him," assented Beroviero. "But these are private
+matters."
+
+"So private, that my serving-woman knows more of them than I do."
+
+"You encourage her to talk."
+
+Marietta laughed, for she was determined to be good-humoured, in spite
+of what she said.
+
+"If I did, that would not teach her things which I do not know myself!
+Is it true that you have ordered the gown to be embroidered with
+pearls?"
+
+"You like pearls, do you not?" asked Beroviero with a little anxiety.
+
+"You see!" cried Marietta triumphantly. "Nella knows all about it."
+
+"I was going to tell you this morning," said her father in a tone of
+annoyance. "By my faith, one can keep nothing secret! One cannot even
+give you a surprise."
+
+"Nella knows everything," returned the girl, sitting on the corner of
+the table and looking from her father to Zorzi. "That must be why you
+chose her for my serving-woman when I was a little girl. She knows all
+that happens in the house by day and night, so that I sometimes think
+she never sleeps."
+
+Zorzi looked furtively towards the table, for he could not help hearing
+all that was said.
+
+"For instance," continued Marietta, watching him, "she knows that last
+night some one unlocked the chain that moors the skiff, and rowed away
+towards Venice."
+
+To her surprise Zorzi showed no embarrassment. He had made up the fire
+and now sat down at a little distance, on one of the flat arms of the
+glass-blower's working-stool. His face was pale and quiet, and his eyes
+did not avoid hers.
+
+"If I caught any one using my boat without my leave, I would make him
+pay dear," said Beroviero, but without anger, as if he were stating a
+general truth.
+
+"Whoever it was who took the boat brought it back an hour after
+midnight, locked the padlock again and went away," said Marietta.
+
+"Tell Nella that I am much indebted to her for her watchfulness. She is
+as good as a house-dog. Tell her to come and wake me if she sees any one
+taking the boat again."
+
+"She says she knows who took it last night," observed Marietta, who was
+puzzled by the attitude of the two men; she had now decided that it had
+not been Zorzi who had used the boat, but on the other hand the story
+did not rouse her father's anger as she had expected.
+
+"Did she tell you the man's name?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Who was it?"
+
+"She said it was Zorzi." Marietta laughed incredulously as she spoke,
+and Zorzi smiled quietly.
+
+Beroviero was silent for a moment and looked out of the window.
+
+"Listen to me," he said at last. "Tell your graceless gossip of a
+serving-woman that I will answer for Zorzi, and that the next time she
+hears any one taking the boat at night she had better come and call me,
+and open her eyes a little wider. Tell her also that I entertain proper
+persons to take care of my property without any help from her. Tell her
+furthermore that she talks too much. You should not listen to a
+servant's miserable chatter."
+
+"I will tell her," replied Marietta meekly. "Did you say that the gown
+was to be embroidered with pearls and silver, father, or with pearls and
+gold?"
+
+"I believe I said gold," answered the old man discontentedly.
+
+"And when will it be ready? In about two months?"
+
+"I daresay."
+
+"So you mean to marry me in two months," concluded Marietta. "That is
+not a long time."
+
+"Should you prefer two years?" inquired Beroviero with increasing
+annoyance. Marietta slipped from the table to her feet.
+
+"It depends on the bridegroom," she answered. "Perhaps I may prefer to
+wait a lifetime!" She moved towards the door.
+
+"Oh, you shall be satisfied with the bridegroom! I promise you that."
+The old man looked after her. At the door she turned her head, smiling.
+
+"I may be hard to please," she said quietly, and she went out into the
+garden.
+
+When she was gone Beroviero shut the window carefully, and though the
+round bull's-eye panes let in the light plentifully, they effectually
+prevented any one from seeing into the room. The door was already
+closed.
+
+"You should have been more careful," he said to Zorzi in a tone of
+reproach. "You should not have let any one see you, when you took the
+boat."
+
+"If the woman spent half the night looking out of her window, sir, I do
+not understand how I could have taken the boat without being seen by
+her."
+
+"Well, well, there is no harm done, and you could not help it, I
+daresay. I have something else to say. You saw the lord Jacopo last
+night; what do you think of him? He is a fine-looking young man. Should
+not any girl be glad to get such a handsome husband? What do you think?
+And his name, too! one of the best in the Great Council. They say he has
+a few debts, but his father is very rich, and has promised me that he
+will pay everything if only his son can be brought to marry and lead a
+graver life. What do you think?"
+
+"He is a very handsome young man," said Zorzi loyally. "What should I
+think? It is a most honourable marriage for your house."
+
+"I hear no great harm of Jacopo," continued Beroviero more familiarly.
+"His father is miserly. We have spent much time in the preliminary
+arrangements, without the knowledge of the son, and the old man is very
+grasping! He would take all my fortune for the dowry if he could. But he
+has to do with a glass-blower!"
+
+Beroviero smiled thoughtfully. Zorzi was silent, for he was suffering.
+
+"You may wonder why I sent that message last night," began the master
+again, "since matters are already so far settled with Jacopo's father.
+You would suppose that nothing more remained but to marry the couple in
+the presence of both families, should you not?"
+
+"I know little of such affairs, sir," answered Zorzi.
+
+"That would be the usual way," continued Beroviero. "But I will not
+marry Marietta against her will. I have always told her so. She shall
+see her future husband before she is betrothed, and persuade herself
+with her own eyes that she is not being deceived into marrying a
+hunchback."
+
+"But supposing that after all the lord Jacopo should not be to her
+taste," suggested Zorzi, "would you break off the match?"
+
+"Break off the match?" cried Beroviero indignantly. "Never! Not to her
+taste? The handsomest man in Venice, with a great name and a fortune to
+come? It would not be my fault if the girl went mad and refused! I would
+make her like him if she dared to hesitate a moment!"
+
+"Even against her will?"
+
+"She has no will in the matter," retorted Beroviero angrily.
+
+"But you have always told her that you would not marry her against her
+will--"
+
+"Do not anger me, Zorzi! Do not try your specious logic with me! Invent
+no absurd arguments, man! Against her will, indeed? How should she know
+any will but mine in the matter? I shall certainly not marry her
+against her will! She shall will what I please, neither more nor less."
+
+"If that is your point of view," said Zorzi, "there is no room for
+argument."
+
+"Of course not. Any reasonable person would laugh at the idea that a
+girl in her senses should not be glad to marry Jacopo Contarini,
+especially after having seen him. If she were not glad, she would not be
+in her senses, in other words she would not be sane, and should be
+treated as a lunatic, for her own good. Would you let a lunatic do as he
+liked, if he tried to jump out of the window? The mere thought is
+absurd."
+
+"Quite," said Zorzi.
+
+Sad as he was, he could almost have laughed at the old man's
+inconsequent speeches.
+
+"I am glad that you so heartily agree with me," answered Beroviero in
+perfect sincerity. "I do not mean to say that I would ask your opinion
+about my daughter's marriage. You would not expect that. But I know that
+I can trust you, for we have worked together a long time, and I am used
+to hearing what you have to say."
+
+"You have always been very good to me," replied Zorzi gratefully.
+
+"You have always been faithful to me," said the old man, laying his hand
+gently on Zorzi's shoulder. "I know what that means in this world."
+
+As soon as there was no question of opposing his despotic will, his
+kindly nature asserted itself, for he was a man subject to quick
+changes of humour, but in reality affectionate.
+
+"I am going to trust you much more than hitherto," he continued. "My
+sons are grown men, independent of me, but willing to get from me all
+they can. If they were true artists, if I could trust their taste, they
+should have had my secrets long ago. But they are mere money-makers, and
+it is better that they should enrich themselves with the tasteless
+rubbish they make in their furnaces, than degrade our art by cheapening
+what should be rare and costly. Am I right?"
+
+"Indeed you are!" Zorzi now spoke in a tone of real conviction.
+
+"If I thought you were really capable of making coloured drinking-cups
+like that abominable object you made this morning, with the idea that
+they could ever be used, you should not stay on Venetian soil a day,"
+resumed the old man energetically. "You would be as bad as my sons, or
+worse. Even they have enough sense to know that half the beauty of a
+cup, when it is used, lies in the colour of the wine itself, which must
+be seen through it. But I forgive you, because you were only anxious to
+blow the glass thin, in order to show me the tint. You know better. That
+is why I mean to trust you in a very grave matter."
+
+Zorzi bent his head respectfully, but said nothing.
+
+"I am obliged to make a journey before my daughter's marriage takes
+place," continued Beroviero. "I shall entrust to you the manuscript
+secrets I possess. They are in a sealed package so that you cannot read
+them, but they will be in your care. If I leave them with any one else,
+my sons will try to get possession of them while I am away. During my
+last journey I carried them with me, but I am growing old, life is
+uncertain, especially when a man is travelling, and I would rather leave
+the packet with you. It will be safer."
+
+"It shall be altogether safe," said Zorzi. "No one shall guess that I
+have it."
+
+"No one must know. I would take you with me on this journey, but I wish
+you to go on with the experiments I have been making. We shall save
+time, if you try some of the mixtures while I am away. When it is too
+hot, let the furnace go out."
+
+"But who will take charge of your daughter, sir?" asked Zorzi. "You
+cannot leave her alone in the house."
+
+"My son Giovanni and his wife will live in my house while I am away. I
+have thought of everything. If you choose, you may bring your belongings
+here, and sleep and eat in the glass-house."
+
+"I should prefer it."
+
+"So should I. I do not want my sons to pry into what we are doing. You
+can hide the packet here, where they will not think of looking for it.
+When you go out, lock the door. When you are in, Giovanni will not come.
+You will have the place to yourself, and the boys who feed the fire at
+night will not disturb you. Of course my daughter will never come here
+while I am away. You will be quite alone."
+
+"When do you go?" asked Zorzi.
+
+"On Monday morning. On Sunday I shall take Marietta to Saint Mark's.
+When she has seen her husband the betrothal can take place at once."
+
+Zorzi was silent, for the future looked black enough. He already saw
+himself shut up in the glass-house for two long months, or not much
+less, as effectually separated from Marietta by the narrow canal as if
+an ocean were between them. She would never cross over and spend an hour
+in the little garden then, and she would be under the care of Giovanni
+Beroviero, who hated him, as he well knew.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+Aristarchi rose early, though it had been broad dawn when he had entered
+his home. He lived not far from the house of the Agnus Dei, on the
+opposite side of the same canal but beyond the Baker's Bridge. His house
+was small and unpretentious, a little wooden building in two stories,
+with a small door opening to the water and another at the back, giving
+access to a patch of dilapidated and overgrown garden, whence a second
+door opened upon a dismal and unsavoury alley. One faithful man, who had
+followed him through many adventures, rendered him such services as he
+needed, prepared the food he liked and guarded the house in his absence.
+The fellow was far too much in awe of his terrible master to play the
+spy or to ask inopportune questions.
+
+The Greek put on the rich dress of a merchant captain of his own people,
+the black coat, thickly embroidered with gold, the breeches of dark blue
+cloth, the almost transparent linen shirt, open at the throat. A large
+blue cap of silk and cloth was set far back on his head, showing all the
+bony forehead, and his coal-black beard and shaggy hair had been combed
+as smooth as their shaggy nature would allow. He wore a magnificent
+belt fully two hands wide, in which were stuck three knives of
+formidable length and breadth, in finely chased silver sheaths. His
+muscular legs were encased in leathern gaiters, ornamented with gold and
+silver, and on his feet he wore broad turned-up slippers from
+Constantinople. The dress was much the same as that which the Turks had
+found there a few years earlier, and which they soon amalgamated with
+their own. It set off the captain's vast breadth of shoulder and massive
+limbs, and as he stepped into his hired boat the idlers at the
+water-stairs gazed upon him with an admiration of which he was well
+aware, for besides being very splendidly dressed he looked as if he
+could have swept them all into the canal with a turn of his hand.
+
+Without saying whither he was bound he directed the oarsman through the
+narrow channels until he reached the shallow lagoon. The boatman asked
+whither he should go.
+
+"To Murano," answered the Greek. "And keep over by Saint Michael's, for
+the tide is low."
+
+The boatman had already understood that his passenger knew Venice almost
+as well as he. The boat shot forward at a good rate under the bending
+oar, and in twenty minutes Aristarchi was at the entrance to the canal
+of San Piero and within sight of Beroviero's house.
+
+"Easy there," said the Greek, holding up his hand. "Do you know Murano
+well, my man?"
+
+"As well as Venice, sir."
+
+"Whose house is that, which has the upper story built on columns over
+the footway?"
+
+"It belongs to Messer Angelo Beroviero. His glass-house takes up all the
+left aide of the canal as far as the bridge."
+
+"And beyond the bridge I can see two new houses, on the same side. Whose
+are they?"
+
+"They belong to the two sons of Messer Angelo Beroviero, who have
+furnaces of their own, all the way to the corner of the Grand Canal."
+
+"Is there a Grand Canal in Murano?" asked Aristarchi.
+
+"They call it so," answered the boatman with some contempt. "The
+Beroviero have several houses on it, too."
+
+"It seems to me that Beroviero owns most of Murano," observed the Greek.
+"He must be very rich."
+
+"He is by far the richest. But there is Alvise Trevisan, a rich man,
+too, and there are two or three others. The island and all the
+glass-works are theirs, amongst them."
+
+"I have business with Messer Angelo," said Aristarchi. "But if he is
+such a great man he will hardly be in the glass-house."
+
+"I will ask," answered the boatman.
+
+In a few minutes he made his boat fast to the steps before the
+glass-house, went ashore and knocked at the door. Aristarchi leaned back
+in his seat, chewing pistachio nuts, which he carried in an embroidered
+leathern bag at his belt. His right hand played mechanically with the
+short string of thick amber beads which he used for counting. The June
+sun blazed down upon his swarthy face.
+
+At the grating beside the door the porter's head appeared, partially
+visible behind the bars.
+
+"Is Messer Angelo Beroviero within?" inquired the boatman civilly.
+
+"What is your business?" asked the porter in a tone of surly contempt,
+instead of answering the question.
+
+"There is a rich foreign gentleman here, who desires to speak with him,"
+answered the boatman.
+
+"Is he the Pope?" asked the porter, with fine irony.
+
+"No, sir," said the other, intimidated by the fellow's manner. "He is a
+rich--"
+
+"Tell him to wait, then." And the surly head disappeared.
+
+The boatman supposed that the man was gone to speak with his master, and
+waited patiently by the door. Aristarchi chewed his pistachio nut till
+there was nothing left, at which time he reached the end of his
+patience. He argued that it was a good sign if Angelo Beroviero kept
+rich strangers waiting at his gate, for it showed that he had no need of
+their custom. On the other hand the Greek's dignity was offended now
+that he had been made to wait too long, for he was hasty by nature.
+Once, in a fit of irritation with a Candiot who stammered out of sheer
+fright, the captain had ordered him to be hanged. Having finished his
+nut, he stood up in the boat and stepped ashore.
+
+"Knock again," he said to the boatman, who obeyed.
+
+There was no answer this time.
+
+"I can hear the fellow inside," said the boatman.
+
+The grating was too high for a man to look through it from outside.
+Aristarchi laid his knotty hands on the stone sill and pulled himself up
+till his face was against the grating. He now looked in and saw the
+porter sitting in his chair.
+
+"Have you taken my message to your master?" inquired the Greek.
+
+The porter looked up in surprise, which increased when he caught sight
+of the ferocious face of the speaker. But he was not to be intimidated
+so easily.
+
+"Messer Angelo is not to be disturbed at his studies," he said. "If you
+wait till noon, perhaps he will come out to go to dinner."
+
+"Perhaps!" repeated Aristarchi, still hanging by his hands. "Do you
+think I shall wait all day?"
+
+"I do not know. That is your affair."
+
+"Precisely. And I do not mean to wait."
+
+"Then go away."
+
+But the Greek had come on an exploring expedition in which he had
+nothing to lose. Hauling himself up a little higher, till his mouth was
+close to the grating, he hailed the house as he would have hailed a ship
+at sea, in a voice of thunder.
+
+"Ahoy there! Is any one within? Ahoy! Ahoy!"
+
+This was more than the porter's equanimity could bear. He looked about
+for a weapon with which to attack the Greek's face through the bars,
+heaping, upon him a torrent of abuse in the meantime.
+
+"Son of dogs and mules!" he cried in a rising growl. "Ill befall the
+foul souls of thy dead and of their dead before them."
+
+"Ahoy--oh! Ahoy!" bellowed the Greek, who now thoroughly enjoyed the
+situation.
+
+The boatman, anxious for drink money, and convinced that his huge
+employer would get the better of the porter, had obligingly gone down
+upon his hands and knees, thrusting his broad back under the captain's
+feet, so that Aristarchi stood upon him and was now prepared to prolong
+the interview without any further effort. His terrific shouts rang
+through the corridor to the garden.
+
+The first person to enter the little lodge was Marietta herself, and the
+Greek broke off short in the middle of another tremendous yell as soon
+as he saw her. She turned her face up to him, quite fearlessly, and was
+very much inclined to laugh as she saw the sudden change in his
+expression.
+
+"Madam," he said with great politeness, "I beg you to forgive my manner
+of announcing myself. If your porter were more obliging, I should have
+been admitted in the ordinary way."
+
+"What is this atrocious disturbance?" asked Zorzi, entering before
+Marietta could answer. "Pray leave the fellow to me," he added, speaking
+to Marietta, who cast one more glance at Aristarchi and went out.
+
+"Sir," said the captain blandly, "I admit that my behaviour may give you
+some right to call me 'fellow,' but I trust that my apology will make
+you consider me a gentleman like yourself. Your porter altogether
+refused to take a message to Messer Angelo Beroviero. May I ask whether
+you are his son, sir?"
+
+"No, sir. You say that you wish to speak with the master. I can take a
+message to him, but I am not sure that he will see any one to-day."
+
+Aristarchi imagined that Beroviero made himself inaccessible, in order
+to increase the general idea of his wealth and importance. He resolved
+to convey a strong impression of his own standing.
+
+"I am the chief partner in a great house of Greek merchants settled in
+Palermo," he said. "My name is Charalambos Aristarchi, and I desire the
+honour of speaking with Messer Angelo about the purchase of several
+cargoes of glass for the King of Sicily."
+
+"I will deliver your message, sir," said Zorzi. "Pray wait a minute, I
+will open the door."
+
+Aristarchi's big head disappeared at last.
+
+"Yes!" growled the porter to Zorzi. "Open the door yourself, and take
+the blame. The man has the face of a Turkish pirate, and his voice is
+like the bellowing of several bulls."
+
+Zorzi unbarred the door, which opened inward, and Aristarchi turned a
+little sideways in order to enter, for his shoulders would have touched
+the two door-posts. The slight and gracefully built Dalmatian looked at
+him with some curiosity, standing aside to let him pass, before barring
+the door again. Aristarchi, though not much taller than himself, was the
+biggest man he had ever seen. He thanked Zorzi, who pushed forward the
+porter's only chair for him to sit on while he waited.
+
+"I will bring you an answer immediately," said Zorzi, and disappeared
+down the corridor.
+
+Aristarchi sat down, crossed one leg over the other, and took a
+pistachio nut from his pouch.
+
+"Master porter," he began in a friendly tone, "can you tell me who that
+beautiful lady is, who came here a moment ago?"
+
+"There is no reason why I should," snarled the porter, beginning to
+strip the outer leaves from a large onion which he pulled from a string
+of them hanging by the wall.
+
+Aristarchi said nothing for a few moments, but watched the man with an
+air of interest.
+
+"Were you ever a pirate?" he inquired presently.
+
+"No, I never served in your crew."
+
+The porter was not often at a loss for a surly answer. The Greek laughed
+outright, in genuine amusement.
+
+"I like your company, my friend," he said. "I should like to spend the
+day here."
+
+"As the devil said to Saint Anthony," concluded the porter.
+
+Aristarchi laughed again. It was long since he had enjoyed such amusing
+conversation, and there was a certain novelty in not being feared. He
+repeated his first question, however, remembering that he had not come
+in search of diversion, but to gather information.
+
+"Who was the beautiful lady?" he asked. "She is Messer Angelo's
+daughter, is she not?"
+
+"A man who asks a question when he knows the answer is either a fool or
+a knave. Choose as you please."
+
+"Thanks, friend," answered Aristarchi, still grinning and showing his
+jagged teeth. "I leave the first choice to you. Whichever you take, I
+will take the other. For if you call me a knave, I shall call you a
+fool, but if you think me a fool, I am quite satisfied that you should
+be the knave."
+
+The porter snarled, vaguely feeling that the Greek had the better of
+him. At that moment Zorzi returned, and his coming put an end to the
+exchange of amenities.
+
+"My master has no long leisure," he said, "but he begs you to come in."
+
+They left the lodge together, and the porter watched them as they went
+down the dark corridor, muttering unholy things about the visitor who
+had disturbed him, and bestowing a few curses on Zorzi. Then he went
+back to peeling his onions.
+
+As Aristarchi went through the garden, he saw Marietta sitting under the
+plane-tree, making a little net of coloured beads. Her face was turned
+from him and bent down, but when he had passed she glanced furtively
+after him, wondering at his size. But her eyes followed Zorzi, till the
+two reached the door and went in. A moment later Zorzi came out again,
+leaving his master and the Greek together. Marietta looked down at
+once, lest her eyes should betray her gladness, for she knew that Zorzi
+would not go back and could not leave the glass-house, so that site
+should necessarily be alone with him while the interview in the
+laboratory lasted.
+
+He came a little way down the path, then stopped, took a short knife
+from his wallet and began to trim away a few withered sprigs from a
+rose-bush. She waited a moment, but he showed no signs of coming nearer,
+so she spoke to him.
+
+"Will you come here?" she asked softly, looking towards him with
+half-closed eyes.
+
+He slipped the knife back into his pouch and walked quickly to her side.
+She looked down again, threading the coloured beads that half filled a
+small basket in her lap.
+
+"May I ask you a question?" Her voice had a little persuasive hesitation
+in it, as if she wished him to understand that the answer would be a
+favour of which she was anything but certain.
+
+"Anything you will," said Zorzi.
+
+"Provided I do not ask about my father's secret!" A little laughter
+trembled in the words. "You were so severe yesterday, you know. I am
+almost afraid ever to ask you anything again."
+
+"I will answer as well as I can."
+
+"Well--tell me this. Did you really take the boat and go to Venice last
+night?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Marietta's hand moved with the needle among the beads, but she did not
+thread one. Nella had been right, after all.
+
+"Why did you go, Zorzi?" The question came in a lower tone that was full
+of regret.
+
+"The master sent me," answered Zorzi, looking down at her hair, and
+wishing that he could see her face.
+
+His wish was almost instantly fulfilled. After the slightest pause she
+looked up at him with a lovely smile; yet when he saw that rare look in
+her face, his heart sank suddenly, instead of swelling and standing
+still with happiness, and when she saw how sad he was, she was grave
+with the instant longing to feel whatever he felt of pain or sorrow.
+That is one of the truest signs of love, but Zorzi had not learned much
+of love's sign-language yet, and did not understand.
+
+"What is it?" she asked almost tenderly.
+
+He turned his eyes from her and rested one hand against the trunk of the
+plane-tree.
+
+"I do not understand," he said slowly.
+
+"Why are you so sad? What is it that is always making you suffer?"
+
+"How could I tell you?" The words were spoken almost under his breath.
+
+"It would be very easy to tell me," she said. "Perhaps I could help
+you--"
+
+"Oh no, no, no!" he cried with an accent of real pain. "You could not
+help me!"
+
+"Who knows? Perhaps I am the best friend you have in the world, Zorzi."
+
+"Indeed I believe you are! No one has ever been so good to me."
+
+"And you have not many friends," continued Marietta. "The workmen are
+jealous of you, because you are always with my father. My brothers do
+not like you, for the same reason, and they think that you will get my
+father's secret from him some day, and outdo them all. No--you have not
+many friends."
+
+"I have none, but you and the master. The men would kill me if they
+dared."
+
+Marietta started a little, remembering how the workmen had looked at him
+in the morning, when he came out.
+
+"You need not be afraid," he added, seeing her movement. "They will not
+touch me."
+
+"Does my father know what your trouble is?" asked Marietta suddenly.
+
+"No! That is--I have no trouble, I assure you. I am of a melancholy
+nature."
+
+"I am glad it has nothing to do with the secrets," said the young girl,
+quietly ignoring the last part of his speech. "If it had, I could not
+help you at all. Could I?"
+
+That morning it had seemed an easy thing to wait even two years before
+giving him a sign, before dropping in his path the rose which she would
+not ask of him again. The minutes seemed years now. For she knew well
+enough what his trouble was, since yesterday; he loved her, and he
+thought it infinitely impossible, in his modesty, that she should ever
+stoop to him. After she had spoken, she looked at him with half-closed
+eyes for a while, but he stared stonily at the trunk of the tree beside
+his hand. Gradually, as she gazed, her lids opened wider, and the
+morning sunlight sparkled in the deep blue, and her fresh lips parted.
+Before she was aware of it he was looking at her with a strange
+expression she had never seen. Then she faintly blushed and looked down
+at her beads once more. She felt as if she had told him that she loved
+him. But he had not understood. He had only seen the transfiguration of
+her face, and it had been for a moment as he had never seen it before.
+Again his heart sank suddenly, and he uttered a little sound that was
+more than a sigh and less than a groan.
+
+"There are remedies for almost every kind of pain," said Marietta
+wisely, as she threaded several beads.
+
+"Give me one for mine," he cried almost bitterly. "Bid that which is to
+cease from being, and that to be which is not earthly possible! Turn the
+world back, and undo truth, and make it all a dream! Then I shall find
+the remedy and forget that it was needed."
+
+"There are magicians who pretend to do such things," she answered
+softly.
+
+"I would there were!" he sighed.
+
+"But those who come to them for help tell all, else the magician has no
+power. Would you call a physician, if you were ill, and tell him that
+the pain you felt was in your head, if it was really--in your heart?"
+
+She had paused an instant before speaking the last words, and they came
+with a little effort.
+
+"How could the physician cure you, if you would not tell him the truth?"
+she asked, as he said nothing. "How can the wizard work miracles for
+you, unless he knows what miracle you ask? How can your best friend help
+you if--if she does not know what help you need?"
+
+Still he was silent, leaning against the tree, with bent head. The pain
+was growing worse, and harder to bear. She spoke so softly and kindly
+that it would have been easy to tell her the truth, he thought, for
+though she could never love him, she would understand, and would forgive
+him. He had not dreamed that friendship could be so kind.
+
+"Am I right?" she asked, after a pause.
+
+"Yes," he answered. "When I cannot bear it any longer, I will tell you,
+and you will help me."
+
+"Why not now?"
+
+The little question might have been ruinous to all his resolution, if
+Zorzi had not been almost like a child in his simplicity--or like a
+saint in his determination to be loyal. For he thought it loyalty to be
+silent, not only for the sake of the promise he had given in return for
+his life, but in respect of his master also, who put such great trust in
+him.
+
+"Pray do not press me with the question," he said. "You tempt me very
+much, and I do not wish to speak of what I feel. Be my friend in real
+truth, if you can, and do not ask me to say what I shall ever after wish
+unsaid. That will be the best friendship."
+
+Marietta looked across the garden thoughtfully, and suddenly a chilling
+doubt fell upon her heart. She could not have been mistaken yesterday,
+she could not be deceived in him now; and yet, if he loved her as she
+believed, she had said all that a maiden could to show him that she
+would listen willingly. She had said too much, and she felt ashamed and
+hurt, almost resentful. He was not a boy. If he loved her, he could find
+words to tell her so, and should have found them, for she had helped him
+to her utmost. Suddenly, she almost hated him, for what his silence made
+her feel, and she told herself that she was glad he had not dared to
+speak, for she did not love him at all. It was all a sickening mistake,
+it was all a miserable little dream; she wished that he would go away
+and leave her to herself. Not that she should shed a single tear! She
+was far too angry for that, but his presence, so near her, reminded her
+of what she had done. He must have seen, all through their talk, that
+she was trying to make him tell his love, and there was nothing to tell.
+Of course he would despise her. That was natural, but she had a right to
+hate him for it, and she would, with all her heart! Her thoughts all
+came together in a tumult of disgust and resentment. If Zorzi did not go
+away presently, she would go away herself. She was almost resolved to
+get up and leave the garden, when the door opened.
+
+"Zorzi!" It was Beroviero's voice.
+
+Aristarchi already stood in the doorway taking leave of Beroviero with,
+many oily protestations of satisfaction in having made his
+acquaintance. Zorzi went forward to accompany the Greek to the door.
+
+"I shall never forget that I have had the honour of being received by
+the great artist himself," said Aristarchi, who held his big cap in his
+hand and was bowing low on the threshold.
+
+"The pleasure has been all on my side," returned Beroviero courteously.
+
+"On the contrary, quite on the contrary," protested his guest, backing
+away and then turning to go.
+
+Zorzi walked beside him, on his left. As they reached the entrance to
+the corridor Aristarchi turned once more, and made an elaborate bow,
+sweeping the ground with his cap, for Beroviero had remained at the door
+till he should be out of sight. He bent his head, making a gracious
+gesture with his hand, and went in as the Greek disappeared. Zorzi
+followed the latter, showing him out.
+
+Marietta saw the door close after her father, and she knew that Zorzi
+must come back through the garden in a few moments. She bent her head
+over her beads as she heard his step, and pretended not to see him. When
+he came near her he stood still a moment, but she would not look up, and
+between annoyance and disappointment and confusion she felt that she was
+blushing, which she would not have had Zorzi see for anything. She
+wondered why he did not go on.
+
+"Have I offended you?" he asked, in a low voice.
+
+Oddly enough, her embarrassment disappeared as soon as he spoke, and the
+blush faded away.
+
+"No," she answered, coldly enough. "I am not angry--I am only sorry."
+
+"But I am glad that I would not answer your question," returned Zorzi.
+
+"I doubt whether you had any answer to give," retorted Marietta with a
+touch of scorn.
+
+Zorzi's brows contracted sharply and he made a movement to go on. So her
+proffered friendship was worth no more than that, he thought. She was
+angry and scornful because her curiosity was disappointed. She could not
+have guessed his secret, he was sure, though that might account for her
+temper, for she would of course be angry if she knew that he loved her.
+And she was angry now because he had refused to tell her so. That was a
+woman's logic, he thought, quite regardless of the defect in his own. It
+was just like a woman! He sincerely wished that he might tell her so.
+
+In the presence of Marietta the man who had confronted sudden death less
+than twenty-four hours ago, with a coolness that had seemed imposing to
+other men, was little better than a girl himself. He turned to go on,
+without saying more. But she stopped him.
+
+"I am sorry that you do not care for my friendship," she said, in a hurt
+tone. She could not have said anything which he would have found it
+harder to answer just then.
+
+"What makes you think that?" he asked, hoping to gain time.
+
+"Many things. It is quite true, so it does not matter what makes me
+think it!"
+
+She tried to laugh scornfully, but there was a quaver in her voice which
+she herself had not expected and was very far from understanding. Why
+should she suddenly feel that she was going to cry? It had seemed so
+ridiculous in poor Nella that morning. Yet there was a most unmistakable
+something in her throat, which frightened her. It would be dreadful if
+she should burst into tears over her beads before Zorzi's eyes. She
+tried to gulp the something: down, and suddenly, as she bent over the
+basket, she saw the beautiful, hateful drops falling fast upon the
+little dry glass things; and even then, in her shame at being seen, she
+wondered why the beads looked, bigger through the glistening tears--she
+remembered afterwards how they looked, so she must have noticed them at
+the time.
+
+Zorzi knew too little of women to have any idea of what he ought to do
+under the circumstances. He did not know whether to turn his back or to
+go away, so he stood still and looked at her, which was the very worst
+thing he could have done. Worse still, he tried to reason with her.
+
+"I assure you that you are mistaken," he said in a soothing tone. "I
+wish for your friendship with all my heart! Only, when you ask me--"
+
+"Oh, go away! For heaven's sake go away!" cried Marietta, almost
+choking, and turning her face quite away, so that he could only see the
+back of her head.
+
+At the same time, she tapped the ground impatiently with her foot, and
+to make matters worse, the little basket of beads began to slip off her
+knees at the same moment. She caught at it desperately, trying not to
+look round and half blinded by her tears, but she missed it, and but for
+Zorzi it would have fallen. He put it into her hands very gently, but
+she was not in the least grateful.
+
+"Oh, please go away!" she repeated. "Can you not understand?"
+
+He did not understand, but he obeyed her and turned away, very grave,
+very much puzzled by this new development of affairs, and sincerely
+wishing that some wise familiar spirit would whisper the explanation in
+his ear, since he could not possibly consult any living person.
+
+She heard him go and she listened for the shutting of the laboratory
+door. Then she knew that she was quite alone in the garden, and she let
+the tears flow as they would, bending her head till it touched the trunk
+of the tree, and they wet the smooth bark and ran down to the dry earth.
+
+Zorzi went in, and began to tend the fire as usual, until it should
+please the master to give him other orders. Old Beroviero was sitting in
+the big chair in which he sometimes rested himself, his elbow on one of
+its arms, and his hand grasping his beard below his chin.
+
+"Zorzi," he said at last, "I have seen that man before."
+
+Zorzi looked at him, expecting more, but for some time Beroviero said
+nothing. The young man selected his pieces of beech wood, laying them
+ready before the little opening just above the floor.
+
+"It is very strange," said Beroviero at last. "He seems to be a rich
+merchant now, but I am almost quite sure that I saw him in Naples."
+
+"Did you know him there, sir?" asked Zorzi.
+
+"No," answered his master thoughtfully. "I saw him in a cart with his
+hands tied behind him, on his way to be hanged."
+
+"He looks as if one hanging would not be enough for him," observed
+Zorzi.
+
+Beroviero was silent for a moment. Then he laughed, and he laughed very
+rarely.
+
+"Yes," he said. "It is not a face one could forget easily," he added.
+
+Then he rose and went back to his table.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+The sun was high over Venice, gleaming on the blue lagoons that lightly
+rippled under a southerly breeze, filling the vast square of Saint
+Mark's with blinding light, casting deep shadows behind the church and
+in the narrow alleys and canals to northward, about the Merceria. The
+morning haze had long since blown away, and the outlines of the old
+church and monastery on Saint George's island, and of the buildings on
+the Guidecca, and on the low-lying Lido, were hard and clear against the
+cloudless sky, mere designs cut out in rich colours, as if with a sharp
+knife, and reared up against a background of violent light. In Venice
+only the melancholy drenching rain of a winter's day brings rest to the
+eye, when water meets water and sky is washed into sea and the city lies
+soaking and dripping between two floods. But soon the wind shifts to the
+northeast, out breaks the sun again, and all Venice is instantly in a
+glare of light and colour and startling distinctness, like the sails and
+rigging of a ship at sea on a clear day.
+
+It was Sunday morning and high mass was over in Saint Mark's. The crowd
+had streamed out of the central door, spreading like a bright fan over
+the square, the men in gay costumes, red, green, blue, yellow, purple,
+brown, and white, their legs particoloured in halves and quarters, so
+that when looking at a group it was mere guesswork to match the pair
+that belonged to one man; women in dresses of one tone, mostly rich and
+dark, and often heavily embroidered, for no sumptuary laws could
+effectually limit outward display, and the insolent vanity of an age
+still almost mediaeval made it natural that the rich should attire
+themselves as richly as they could, and that the poor should be despised
+for wearing poor clothes.
+
+Angelo Beroviero had a true Venetian's taste for splendour, but he was
+also deeply imbued with the Venetian love of secrecy in all matters that
+concerned his private life. When he bade Marietta accompany him to
+Venice on that Sunday morning, he was equally anxious that she should be
+as finely dressed as was becoming for the daughter of a wealthy citizen,
+and that she should be in ignorance of the object of the trip. She was
+not to know that Jacopo Contarini would be standing beside the second
+column on the left, watching her with lazily critical eyes; she was
+merely told that she and her father were to dine in the house of a
+certain Messer Luigi Foscarini, Procurator of Saint Mark, who was an old
+and valued friend, though a near connection of Alvise Trevisan, a rival
+glass-maker of Murano. All this had been carefully planned in order that
+during their absence Beroviero's house might be suitably prepared for
+the solemn family meeting which was to take place late in the afternoon,
+and at which her betrothal was to be announced, but of which Marietta
+knew nothing. Her father counted upon surprising her and perhaps
+dazzling her, so as to avoid all discussion and all possibility of
+resistance on her part. She should see Contarini in the church, and
+while still under the first impression of his beauty and magnificence,
+she should be told before her assembled family that she was solemnly
+bound to marry him in two months' time.
+
+Beroviero never expected opposition in anything he wished to do, but he
+had always heard that young girls could find a thousand reasons for not
+marrying the man their parents chose for them, and he believed that he
+could make all argument and hesitation impossible. Marietta doubtless
+expected to have a week in which to make up her mind. She should have
+five hours, and even that was too much, thought Beroviero. He would have
+preferred to march her to the altar without any preliminaries and marry
+her to Contarini without giving her a chance of seeing him before the
+ceremony. After all, that was the custom of the day.
+
+The fortunes of love were in his favour, for Marietta had spent three
+miserably unhappy days and nights since she had last talked with Zorzi
+in the garden. From that time he had avoided her moat carefully, never
+coming out of the laboratory when she was under the tree with her work,
+never raising his eyes to look at her when she came in and talked with
+her father. When she entered the big room, he made a solemn bow and
+occupied himself in the farthest corner so long as she remained. There
+is a stage in which even the truest and purest love of boy and maiden
+feeds on misunderstandings. In a burst of tears, and ashamed that she
+should be seen crying, Marietta had bidden him go away; in the folly of
+his young heart he took her at her word, and avoided her consistently.
+He had been hurt by the words, but by a kind of unconscious selfishness
+his pain helped him to do what he believed to be his duty.
+
+And Marietta forgot that he had picked up the rose dropped by her in the
+path, she forgot that she had seen him stand gazing up at her window,
+with a look that could mean only love, she forgot how tenderly and
+softly he had answered her in the garden; she only remembered that she
+had done her utmost, and too much, to make him tell her that he loved
+her, and in vain. She could not forgive him that, for even after three
+days her cheeks burned fiercely whenever she thought of it. After that,
+it mattered nothing what became of her, whether she were betrothed, or
+whether she were married, or whether she went mad, or even whether she
+died--that would be the best of all.
+
+In this mood Marietta entered the gondola and seated herself by her
+father on Sunday morning. She wore an embroidered gown of olive green, a
+little open at her dazzling throat, and a silk mantle of a darker tone
+hung from her shoulders, to protect her from the sun rather than from
+the air. Her russet hair was plaited in a thick flat braid, and brought
+round her head like a broad coronet of red gold, and a point lace veil,
+pinned upon it with stoat gold pins, hang down behind and was brought
+forward carelessly upon one shoulder.
+
+Beside her, Angelo Beroviero was splendid in dark red cloth and purple
+silk. He was proud of his daughter, who was betrothed to the heir of a
+great Venetian house, he was proud of his own achievements, of his
+wealth, of the richly furnished gondola, of his two big young oarsmen in
+quartered yellow and blue hose and snowy shirts, and of his liveried man
+in blue and gold, who sat outside the low 'felse' on a little stool,
+staff in hand, ready to attend upon his master and young mistress
+whenever they should please to go on foot.
+
+Marietta had got into the gondola without so much as glancing across the
+canal to see whether Zorzi were standing there to see them push off, as
+he often did when she and her father went out together. If he were
+there, she meant to show him that she could be more indifferent than he;
+if he were not, she would show herself that she did not care enough even
+to look for him. But when the gondola was out of sight of the house she
+wished she knew whether he had looked out or not.
+
+Her father had told her that they were going to dine with the Procurator
+Foscarini and his wife. The pair had one daughter, of Marietta's age,
+and she was a cripple from birth. Marietta was fond of her, and it was a
+relief to get away from Murano, even for half a day. The visit
+explained well enough why her father had desired her to put on her best
+gown and most valuable lace. She really had not the slightest idea that
+anything more important was on foot.
+
+Beroviero looked at her in silence as they sped along with the gently
+rocking motion of the gondola, which is not exactly like any other
+movement in the world. He had already noticed that she was paler than
+usual, but the extraordinary whiteness of her skin made her pallor
+becoming to her, and it was set off by the colour of her hair, as ivory
+by rough gold. He wondered whether she had guessed whither he was taking
+her.
+
+"It is a long time since we were in Saint Mark's together," he said at
+last.
+
+"It must be more than a year," answered Marietta. "We pass it often, but
+we hardly ever go in."
+
+"It is early," observed Beroviero, speaking as indifferently as he
+could. "When we left home it lacked an hour and a half of noon by the
+dial. Shall we go into the church for a while?"
+
+"If you like," replied Marietta mechanically.
+
+Nothing made much difference that morning, but she knew that the high
+mass would be over and that the church would be quiet and cool. It was
+not at that time the cathedral of Venice, though it had always been the
+church in which the doges worshipped in state.
+
+They landed at the low steps in the Rio del Palazzo, and the servant
+held out his bent elbow for Marietta to steady herself, though he knew
+that she would not touch it, for she was light and sure-footed as a
+fawn; but Beroviero leaned heavily on his man's arm. They came round
+the Patriarch's palace into the open square, whence the crowd had nearly
+all disappeared, dispersing in different directions. Just as they were
+within sight of the great doors of the church, Beroviero saw a very tall
+man in a purple silk mantle going in alone. It was Contarini, and
+Beroviero drew a little sigh of relief. The intended bridegroom was
+punctual, but Beroviero thought that he might have shown such anxiety to
+see his bride as should have brought him to the door a few minutes
+before the time.
+
+Marietta had drawn her veil across her face, leaving only her eyes
+uncovered, according to custom.
+
+"It is hot," she complained.
+
+"It will be cool in the church," answered her father. "Throw your veil
+back, my dear--there is no one to see you."
+
+"There is the sun," she said, for she had been taught that one of a
+Venetian lady's chief beauties is her complexion.
+
+"Well, well--there will be no sun in the church." And the old man
+hurried her in, without bestowing a glance upon the bronze horses over
+the door, to admire which he generally stopped a few moments in passing.
+
+They entered the great church, and the servant went before them, dipped
+his fingers in the basin and offered them holy water. They crossed
+themselves, and Marietta bent one knee, looking towards the high altar.
+A score of people were scattered about, kneeling and standing in the
+nave.
+
+Contarini was leaning against the second pillar on the left, and had
+been watching the door when Marietta and her father entered. Beroviero
+saw him at once, but led his daughter up the opposite side of the nave,
+knelt down beside her a moment at the screen, then crossed and came down
+the aisle, and at last turned into the nave again by the second pillar,
+so as to come upon Contarini as it were unawares. This all seemed
+necessary to him in order that Marietta should receive a very strong and
+sudden impression, which should leave no doubt in her mind. Contarini
+himself was too thoroughly Venetian not to understand what Beroviero was
+doing, and when the two came upon him, he was drawn up to his full
+height, one gloved hand holding his cap and resting on his hip; the
+other, gloveless, and white as a woman's, was twisting his silky
+mustache. Beroviero had manoeuvred so cleverly that Marietta almost
+jostled the young patrician as she turned the pillar.
+
+Contarini drew back with quick grace and a slight inclination of his
+body, and then pretended the utmost surprise on seeing his valued friend
+Messer Angelo Beroviero.
+
+"My most dear sir!" he exclaimed. "This is indeed good fortune!"
+
+"Mine, Messer Jacopo!" returned Beroviero with equally well-feigned
+astonishment.
+
+Marietta had looked Contarini full in the face before she had time to
+draw her veil across her own. She stepped back and placed herself behind
+her father, protected as it were by their serving-man, who stood beside
+her with his staff. She understood instantly that the magnificent
+patrician was the man of whom her father had spoken as her future
+husband. Seen, as she had seen him, in the glowing church, in the most
+splendid surroundings that could be imagined, he was certainly a man at
+whom any woman would look twice, even out of curiosity, and through her
+veil Marietta looked again, till she saw his soft brown eyes
+scrutinising her appearance; then she turned quickly away, for she had
+looked long enough. She saw that a woman in black was kneeling by the
+next pillar, watching her intently with a sort of cold stare that almost
+made her shudder. Yet the woman was exceedingly beautiful. It was easy
+to see that, though the dark veil hid half her face and its folds
+concealed most of her figure. The mysterious, almond-shaped eyes were
+those of another race, the marble cheek was more perfectly modelled and
+turned than an Italian's, the curling golden hair was more glorious than
+any Venetian's. Arisa had come to see her master's bride, and he knew
+that she was there looking on. Why should he care? It was a bargain, and
+he was not going to give up Arisa and the house of the Agnus Dei because
+he meant to marry the rich glass-blower's daughter.
+
+Marietta imagined no connection between the woman and the man, who thus
+insolently came to the same place to look at her, pretending not to know
+one another; and when she looked back at Contarini she felt a miserable
+little thrill of vanity as she noticed that he was looking fixedly at
+her, and that his eyes did not wander to the face of that other woman,
+who was so much more beautiful than herself. Perhaps, after all, he
+would really prefer her to that matchless creature close beside her!
+Nothing mattered, of course, since Zorzi did not love her, but after all
+it was flattering to be admired by Jacopo Contarini, who could choose
+his wife where he pleased, through the whole world.
+
+It all happened in a few seconds. The two men exchanged a few words, to
+which she paid no attention, and took leave of each other with great
+ceremony and much bowing on both sides. When her father turned at last,
+Marietta was already walking towards the door, the servant by her left
+side. Beroviero had scarcely joined her when she started a little, and
+laid her hand upon his arm.
+
+"The Greek merchant!" she whispered.
+
+Beroviero looked where she was looking. By the first pillar, gazing
+intently at Arisa's kneeling figure, stood Aristarchi, his hands folded
+over his broad chest, his shaggy head bent forward, his sturdy legs a
+little apart. He, too, had come to see the promised bride, and to be a
+witness of the bargain whereby he also was to be enriched.
+
+As Marietta came out of the church, she covered her face closely and
+drew her silk mantle quite round her, bending her head a little. The
+servant walked a few paces in front.
+
+"You have seen your future husband, my child," said Beroviero.
+
+"I suppose that the young noble was Messer Jacopo Contarini," answered
+Marietta coldly.
+
+"You are hard to please, if you are not satisfied with my choice for
+you," observed her father.
+
+To this Marietta said nothing. She only bent her head a little lower,
+looking down as she trod delicately over the hot and dusty ground.
+
+"And you are a most ungrateful daughter," continued Beroviero, "if you
+do not appreciate my kindness and liberality of mind in allowing you to
+see him before you are formally betrothed."
+
+"Perhaps he is even more pleased by your liberality of mind than I could
+possibly be," retorted the young girl with unbending coldness. "He has
+probably not seen many Venetian girls of our class face to face and
+unveiled. He is to be congratulated on his good fortune!"
+
+"By my faith!" exclaimed Beroviero, "it is hard to satisfy you!"
+
+"I have asked nothing."
+
+"Do you mean to say that you have any objections to allege against such
+a marriage?"
+
+"Have I said that I should oppose it? One may obey without enthusiasm."
+She laughed coldly.
+
+"Like the unprofitable servant! I had expected something more of you, my
+child. I have been at infinite pains and I am making great sacrifices to
+procure you a suitable husband, and there are scores of noble girls in
+Venice who would give ten years of their lives to marry Jacopo
+Contarini! And you say that you obey my commands without enthusiasm!
+You are an ungrateful--"
+
+"No, I am not!" interrupted Marietta firmly. "I would rather not marry
+at all--"
+
+"Not marry!" repeated Beroviero, interrupting her in a tone of profound
+stupefaction, and standing still in the sun as he spoke. "Why--what is
+the matter?"
+
+"Is it so strange that I should be contented with my girl's life?" asked
+Marietta. "Should I not be ungrateful indeed, if I wished to leave you
+and become the wife of a man I have just seen for the first time?"
+
+"You use most extraordinary arguments, my dear," replied Beroviero,
+quite at a loss for a suitable retort. "Of course, I have done my best
+to make you happy."
+
+He paused, for she had placed him in the awkward position of being angry
+because she did not wish to leave him.
+
+"I really do not know what to say," he added, after a moment's
+reflection.
+
+"Perhaps there is nothing to be said," answered Marietta, in a tone of
+irritating superiority, for she certainly had the best of the
+discussion.
+
+They had reached the gondola by this time, and as the servant sat within
+hearing at the open door of the 'felse,' they could not continue talking
+about such a matter. Beroviero was glad of it, for he regarded the
+affair as settled, and considered that it should be hastened to its
+conclusion without any further reasoning about it. If he had sent word
+to young Contarini that the answer should be given him in a week, that
+was merely an imaginary formality invented to cover his own dignity,
+since he had so far derogated from it as to allow the young man to see
+Marietta. In reality the marriage had been determined and settled
+between Beroviero and Contarini's father before anything had been said
+to either of the young people. The meeting in the church might have been
+dispensed with, if the patrician had been able to answer with certainty
+for his wild son's conduct. Jacopo had demanded it, and his father was
+so anxious for the marriage that he had communicated the request to
+Beroviero. The latter, always for his dignity's sake, had pretended to
+refuse, and had then secretly arranged the matter for Jacopo, as has
+been seen, without old Contarini's knowledge.
+
+Marietta leaned back under the cool, dark 'felse,' and her hands lay
+idly in her lap. She felt that she was helpless, because she was
+indifferent, and that she could even now have changed the course of her
+destiny if she had cared to make the effort. There was no reason for
+making any. She did not believe that she had really loved Zorzi after
+all, and if she had, it seemed to-day quite impossible that she should
+ever have married him. He was nothing but a waif, a half-nameless
+servant, a stranger predestined to a poor and obscure life. As she
+inwardly repeated some of these considerations, she felt a little thrust
+of remorse for trying to look down on him as impossibly far below her
+own station, and a small voice told her that he was an artist, and that
+if he had chanced to be born in Venice he would have been as good as her
+brothers.
+
+The future stretched out before her in a sort of dull magnificence that
+did not in the least appeal to her simple nature. She could not tell why
+she had despised Jacopo Contarini from the moment she looked into his
+beautiful eyes. Happily women are not expected to explain why they
+sometimes judge rightly at first sight, when a wise man is absurdly
+deceived. Marietta did not understand Jacopo, and she easily fancied
+that because her own character was the stronger she should rule him as
+easily as she managed Nella. It did not occur to her that he was already
+under the domination of another woman, who might prove to be quite as
+strong as she. What she saw was the weakness in his eyes and mouth. With
+such a man, she thought, there was little to fear; but there was nothing
+to love. If she asked, he would give, if she opposed him, he would
+surrender, if she lost her temper and commanded, he would obey with
+petulant docility. She should be obliged to take refuge in vanity in
+order to get any satisfaction out of her life, and she was not naturally
+vain. The luxuries of those days were familiar to her from her
+childhood. Though she had not lived in a palace, she had been brought up
+in a house that was not unlike one, she ate off silver plates and drank
+from glasses that were masterpieces of her father's art, she had coffers
+full of silks and satins, and fine linen embroidered with gold thread,
+there was always gold and silver in her little wallet-purse when she
+wanted anything or wished to give to the poor, she was waited on by a
+maid of her own like any fine lady of Venice, and there were a score of
+idle servants in a house where there were only two masters--there was
+nothing which Contarini could give her that would be more than a little
+useless exaggeration of what she had already. She had no particular
+desire to show herself unveiled to the world, as married women did, and
+she was not especially attracted by the idea of becoming one of them.
+She had been brought up alone, she had acquired tastes which other women
+had not, and which would no longer be satisfied in her married life, she
+loved the glass-house, she delighted in taking a blow-pipe herself and
+making small objects which she decorated as she pleased, she felt a
+lively interest in her father's experiments, she enjoyed the atmosphere
+of his wisdom though it was occasionally disturbed by the foolish little
+storms of his hot temper. And until now, she had liked to be often with
+Zorzi.
+
+That was past, of course, but the rest remained, and it was much to
+sacrifice for the sake of becoming a Contarini, and living on the Grand
+Canal with a man she should always despise.
+
+It was clearly not the idea of marriage that surprised or repelled her,
+not even of a marriage with a man she did not know and had seen but
+once. Girls were brought up to regard marriage as the greatest thing in
+life, as the natural goal to which all their girlhood should tend, and
+at the same time they were taught from childhood that it was all to be
+arranged for them, and that they would in due course grow fond of the
+man their parents chose for them. Until Marietta had begun to love
+Zorzi, she had accepted all these things quite naturally, as a part of
+every woman's life, and it would have seemed as absurd, and perhaps as
+impossible, to rebel against them as to repudiate the religion in which
+she had been born. Such beliefs turn into prejudices, and assert
+themselves as soon as whatever momentarily retards them is removed. By
+the time the gondola drew alongside of the steps of the Foscarini
+palace, Marietta was convinced that there was nothing for her but to
+submit to her fate.
+
+"Then I am to be married in two months?" she said, in a tone of
+interrogation, and regardless of the servant.
+
+Beroviero bent his head in answer and smiled kindly; for after all, he
+was grateful to her for accepting his decision so quietly. But Marietta
+was very pale after she had spoken, for the audible words somehow made
+it all seem dreadfully real, and out of the shadows of the great
+entrance hall that opened upon the canal she could fancy Zorzi's face
+looking at her sadly and reproachfully. The bargain was made, and the
+woman he loved was sold for life. For one moment, instinctive womanhood
+felt the accursed humiliation, and the flushing blood rose in the girl's
+cool cheeks.
+
+She would have blushed deeper had she guessed who had been witnesses of
+her first meeting with Contarini, and old Beroviero's temper would have
+broken out furiously if he could have imagined that the Greek pirate who
+had somehow miraculously escaped the hangman in Naples had been
+contemplating with satisfaction the progress of the marriage
+negotiations, sure that he himself should before long be enjoying the
+better part of Marietta's rich dowry. If the old man could have had
+vision of Jacopo's life, and could have suddenly known what the
+beautiful woman in black was to the patrician, Contarini's chance of
+going home alive that day would have been small indeed, for Beroviero
+might have strangled him where he stood, and perhaps Aristarchi would
+have discreetly turned his back while he was doing it. For a few minutes
+they had all been very near together, the deceivers and the deceived,
+and it was not likely that they should ever all be so near again.
+
+Contarini had never seen the Greek, and Arisa was not aware that he was
+in the church. When Beroviero and Marietta were gone, Jacopo turned his
+back on the slave for a moment as if he meant to walk further up the
+church. Aristarchi watched them both, for in spite of all he did not
+quite trust the Georgian woman, and he had never seen her alone with
+Jacopo when she was unaware of his own presence. Yet he was afraid to go
+nearer, now, lest Arisa should accidentally see him and betray by her
+manner that she knew him.
+
+Jacopo turned suddenly, when he judged that he could leave the church
+without overtaking Beroviero, and he walked quietly down the nave. He
+passed close to Arisa, and Aristarchi guessed that their eyes met for a
+moment. He almost fancied that Contarini's lips moved, and he was sure
+that he smiled. But that was all, and Arisa remained on her knees, not
+even turning her head a little as her lover went by.
+
+"Not so ugly after all," Contarini had said, under his breath, and the
+careless smile went with the words.
+
+Arisa's lip curled contemptuously as she heard. She had drawn back her
+veil, her face was raised, as if she were sending up a prayer to heaven,
+and the light fell full upon the magnificent whiteness of her throat,
+that showed in strong relief against the black velvet and lace. She
+needed no other answer to what he said, but in the scorn of her curving
+mouth, which seemed all meant for Marietta, there was contempt for him,
+too, that would have cut him to the quick of his vanity.
+
+Aristarchi walked deliberately by the pillar to the aisle, as he passed,
+and listened for the flapping of the heavy leathern curtain at the door.
+Then he stole nearer to the place where Arisa was still kneeling, and
+came noiselessly behind her and leaned against the column, and watched
+her, not caring if he surprised her now.
+
+But she did not turn round. Listening intently, Aristarchi heard a soft
+quick whispering, and he saw that it was punctuated by a very slight
+occasional movement of her head.
+
+He had not believed her when she had told him that she said her prayers
+at night, but she was undoubtedly praying now, and Aristarchi watched
+her with interest, as he might have looked at some rare foreign animal
+whose habits he did not understand. She was very intently bent on what
+she was saying, for he stayed there some time, scarcely breathing,
+before he turned away and disappeared in the shadows with noiseless
+steps.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+All through the long Sunday afternoon Zorzi sat in the laboratory alone.
+From time to time, he tended the fire, which must not be allowed to go
+down lest the quality of the glass should be injured, or at least
+changed. Then he went back to the master's great chair, and allowed
+himself to think of what was happening in the house opposite.
+
+In those days there was no formal betrothal before marriage, at which
+the intended bride and bridegroom joined hands or exchanged the rings
+which were to be again exchanged at the wedding. When a marriage had
+been arranged, the parents or guardians of the young couple signed the
+contract before a notary, a strictly commercial and legal formality, and
+the two families then announced the match to their respective relatives
+who were invited for the purpose, and were hospitably entertained. The
+announcement was final, and to break off a marriage after it had been
+announced was a deadly offence and was generally an irreparable injury
+to the bride.
+
+In Beroviero's house the richest carpets were taken from the storerooms
+and spread upon the pavement and the stairs, tapestries of great worth
+and beauty were hung upon the walls, the servants were arrayed in their
+high-day liveries and spoke in whispers when they spoke at all, the
+silver dishes were piled with sweetmeats and early fruits, and the
+silver plates had been not only scoured, but had been polished with
+leather, which was not done every day. In all the rooms that were
+opened, silken curtains had been hung before the windows, in place of
+those used at other times. In a word, the house had been prepared in a
+few hours for a great family festivity, and when Marietta got out of the
+gondola, she set her foot upon a thick carpet that covered the steps and
+was even allowed to hang down and dip itself in the water of the canal
+by way of showing what little value was set upon it by the rich man.
+
+Zorzi had known that the preparations were going forward, and he knew
+what they meant. He would rather see nothing of them, and when the
+guests were gone, old Beroviero would come over and give him some final
+instructions before beginning his journey; until then he could be alone
+in the laboratory, where only the low roar of the fire in the furnace
+broke the silence.
+
+Marietta's head was aching and she felt as if the hard, hot fingers of
+some evil demon were pressing her eyeballs down into their sockets. She
+sat in an inner chamber, to which only women were admitted. There she
+sat, in a sort of state, a circlet of gold set upon her loosened hair,
+her dress all of embroidered white silk, her shoulders covered with a
+wide mantle of green and gold brocade that fell in heavy folds to the
+floor. She wore many jewels, too, such as she would not have worn in
+public before her marriage. They had belonged to her mother, like the
+mantle, and were now brought out for the first time. It was very hot,
+but the windows were shut lest the sound of the good ladies' voices
+should be heard without; for the news that Marietta was to be married
+had suddenly gone abroad through Murano, and all the idlers, and the men
+from the furnaces, where no work was done on Sunday, as well as all the
+poor, were assembled on the footway and the bridge, and in the narrow
+alleys round the house. They all pushed and jostled each other to see
+Beroviero's friends and relations, as they emerged from beneath the
+black 'felse' of their gondolas to enter the house. In the hall the
+guests divided, and the men gathered in a large lower chamber, while the
+women went upstairs to offer their congratulations to Marietta, with
+many set compliments upon her beauty, her clothes and her jewels, and
+even with occasional flattering allusions to the vast dowry her husband
+was to receive with her.
+
+She listened wearily, and her head ached more and more, so that she
+longed for the coolness of her own room and for Nella's soothing
+chatter, to which she was so much accustomed that she missed it if the
+little brown woman chanced to be silent.
+
+The sun went down and wax candles were brought, instead of the tall oil
+lamps that were used on ordinary days. It grew hotter and hotter, the
+compliments of the ladies seemed more and more dull and stale, her
+mantle was heavy and even the gold circlet on her hair was a burden.
+Worse than all, she knew that every minute was carrying her further and
+further into the dominion of the irrevocable whence she could never
+return.
+
+She had looked at the palaces she had passed in Venice that morning,
+some in shadow, some in sunlight, some with gay faces and some grave,
+but all so different from the big old house in Murano, that she did not
+wish to live in them at all. It would have been much easier to submit if
+she had been betrothed to a foreigner, a Roman, or a Florentine. She had
+been told that Romans were all wicked and gloomy, and that Florentines
+were all wicked and gay. That was what Nella had heard. But in a sense
+they were free, for they probably did what was good in their own eyes,
+as wicked people often do. Life in Venice was to be lived by rule, and
+everything that tasted of freedom was repressed by law. If it pleased
+women to wear long trains the Council forbade them; if they took refuge
+in long sleeves, thrown back over their shoulders, a law was passed
+which set a measure and a pattern for all sleeves that might ever be
+worn. If a few rich men indulged their fancy in the decoration of their
+gondolas, now that riding was out of fashion, the Council immediately
+determined that gondolas should be black and that they should only be
+gilt and adorned inside. As for freedom, if any one talked of it he was
+immediately tortured until he retracted all his errors, and was then
+promptly beheaded for fear that he should fall again into the same
+mistake. Nella said so, and told hideous tales of the things that had
+been done to innocent men in the little room behind the Council chamber
+in the Palace. Besides, if one talked of justice, there was Zorzi's case
+to prove that there was no justice at all in Venetian law. Marietta
+suddenly wished that she were wicked, like the Romans and the
+Florentines; and even when she reflected that it was a sin to wish that
+one were bad, she was not properly repentant, because she had a very
+vague notion of what wickedness really was. Righteousness seemed just
+now to consist in being smothered in heavy clothes, in a horribly hot
+room, while respectable women of all ages, fat, thin, fair, red-haired,
+dark, ugly and handsome, all chattered at her and overwhelmed her with
+nauseous flattery.
+
+She thought of that morning in the garden, three days ago, when
+something she did not understand had been so near, just before
+disappearing for ever. Then her throat tightened and she saw
+indistinctly, and her lips were suddenly dry. After that, she remembered
+little of what happened on that evening, and by and by she was alone in
+her own room without a light, standing at the open window with bare feet
+on the cold pavement, and the night breeze stirred her hair and brought
+her the scent of the rosemary and lavender, while she tried to listen to
+the stars, as if they were speaking to her, and lost herself in her
+thoughts for a few moments before going to sleep.
+
+Zorzi was still sitting in the big chair against the wall when he heard
+a footstep in the garden, and as he rose to look out Beroviero entered.
+The master was wrapped in a long cloak that covered something which he
+was carrying. There was no lamp in the laboratory, but the three fierce
+eyes of the furnace shed a low red glare in different directions.
+Beroviero had given orders that the night boys should not come until he
+sent for them.
+
+"I thought it wiser to bring this over at night," he said, setting a
+small iron box on the table.
+
+It contained the secrets of Paolo Godi, which were worth a great fortune
+in those times.
+
+"Of all my possessions," said the old man, laying his hands upon the
+casket, "these are the most valuable. I will not hide them alone, as I
+might, because if any harm befell me they would be lost, and might be
+found by some unworthy person."
+
+"Could you not leave them with some one else, sir?" asked Zorzi.
+
+"No. I trust no one else. Let us hide them together to-night, for
+to-morrow I must leave Venice. Take up one of the large flagstones
+behind the annealing oven, and dig a hole underneath it in the ground.
+The place will be quite dry, from the heat of the oven."
+
+Zorzi lit a lamp with a splinter of wood which he thrust into the
+'bocca' of the furnace; he took a small crowbar from the corner and set
+to work. The laboratory contained all sorts of builder's tools, used
+when the furnace needed repairing. He raised one of the slabs with
+difficulty, turned it over, propped it with a billet of beech wood, and
+began to scoop out a hole in the hard earth, using a mason's trowel.
+Beroviero watched him, holding the box in his hands.
+
+"The lock is not very good," he said, "but I thought the box might keep
+the packet from dampness."
+
+"Is the packet properly sealed?" asked Zorzi, looking up.
+
+"You shall see," answered the master, and he set down the box beside the
+lamp, on the broad stone at the mouth of the annealing oven. "It is
+better that you should see for yourself."
+
+He unlocked the box and took out what seemed to be a small book,
+carefully tied up in a sheet of parchment. The ends of the silk cord
+below the knot were pinched in a broad red seal. Zorzi examined the wax.
+
+"You sealed it with a glass seal," he observed. "It would not be hard to
+make another."
+
+"Do you think it would be so easy?" asked Beroviero, who had made the
+seal himself many years ago.
+
+Zorzi held the impression nearer to the lamp and scrutinised it closely.
+
+"No one will have a chance to try," he said, with a slight gesture of
+indifference. "It might not be so easy."
+
+The old man looked at him a moment, as if hesitating, and then put the
+packet back into the box and locked the latter with the key that hung
+from his neck by a small silver chain.
+
+"I trust you," he said, and he gave the box to Zorzi, to be deposited in
+the hole.
+
+Zorzi stood up, and taking a little tow from the supply used for
+cleaning the blow-pipes, he dipped it into the oil of the lamp and
+proceeded to grease the box carefully before hiding it.
+
+"It would rust," he explained.
+
+He laid the box in the hole and covered it with earth before placing the
+stone over it.
+
+"Be careful to make the stone lie quite flat," said Angelo, bending down
+and gathering his gown off the floor in a bunch at his knees. "If it
+does not lie flat, the stone will move when the boys tread on it, and
+they may think of taking it up."
+
+"It is very heavy," answered the young man. "It was as much as I could
+do to heave it up. You need not be afraid of the boys."
+
+"It is not a very safe place, I fear, after all," returned Beroviero
+doubtfully. "Be sure to leave no marks of the crowbar, and no loose
+earth near it."
+
+The heavy slab slipped into its bed with a soft thud. Zorzi took the
+lamp and examined the edges. One of them was a little chipped by the
+crowbar, and he rubbed it with the greasy tow and scattered dust over
+it. Then he got a cypress broom and swept the earth carefully away into
+a heap. Beroviero himself brought the shovel and held it close to the
+stones while Zorzi pushed the loose earth upon it.
+
+"Carry it out and scatter it in the garden," said the old man.
+
+It was the first time that he had allowed his affection for Zorzi to
+express itself so strongly, for he was generally a very cautious person.
+He took the young man's hand and held it a moment, pressing it kindly.
+
+"It was not I who made the law against strangers, and it was not meant
+for men like you," he added.
+
+Zorzi knew how much this meant from such a master and he would have
+found words for thanks, had he been able; but when he tried, they would
+not come.
+
+"You may trust me," was all he could say.
+
+Beroviero left him, and went down the dark corridor with the firm step
+of a man who knows his way without light.
+
+In the morning, when he left the house to begin his journey, Zorzi stood
+by the steps with the servant to steady the gondola for him. His horses
+were to be in waiting in Venice, whence he was to go over to the
+mainland. He nodded to the young man carelessly, but said nothing, and
+no one would have guessed how kindly he had spoken to him on the
+previous night. Giovanni Beroviero took ceremonious leave of his father,
+his cap in his hand, bending low, a lean man, twenty years older than
+Marietta, with an insignificant brow and clean-shaven, pointed jaw and
+greedy lips. Marietta stood within the shadow of the doorway, very pale.
+Nella was beside her, and Giovanni's wife, and further in, at a
+respectful distance, the serving-people, for the master's departure was
+an event of importance.
+
+The gondola pushed off when Beroviero had disappeared under the 'felse'
+with a final wave of the hand. Zorzi stood still, looking after his
+master, and Marietta came forward to the doorstep and pretended to watch
+the gondola also. Zorzi was the first to turn, and their eyes met. He
+had not expected to see her still there, and he started a little.
+Giovanni looked at him coldly.
+
+"You had better go to your work," he said in a sour tone. "I suppose my
+father has told you what to do."
+
+The young artist flushed, but answered quietly enough.
+
+"I am going to my work," he said. "I need no urging."
+
+Before he put on his cap, he bent his head to Marietta; then he passed
+on towards the bridge.
+
+"That fellow is growing insolent," said Giovanni to his sister, but he
+was careful that Zorzi should not hear the words. "I think I shall
+advise our father to turn him out."
+
+Marietta looked at her brother with something like contempt.
+
+"Since when has our father consulted you, or taken your advice?" she
+asked.
+
+"I presume he takes yours," retorted Giovanni, regretting that he could
+not instantly find a sharper answer, for he was not quick-witted though
+he was suspicious.
+
+"He needs neither yours nor mine," said Marietta, "and he trusts whom he
+pleases."
+
+"You seem inclined to defend his servants when they are insolent,"
+answered Giovanni.
+
+"For that matter, Zorzi is quite able to defend himself!" She turned her
+back on her brother and went towards the stairs, taking Nella with her.
+
+Giovanni glanced at her with annoyance and walked along the footway in
+the direction of his own glass-house, glad to go back to a place where
+he was absolute despot. But he had been really surprised that Marietta
+should boldly take the Dalmatian's side against him, and his narrow
+brain brooded upon the unexpected circumstance. Besides the dislike he
+felt for the young artist, his small pride resented the thought that his
+sister, who was to marry a Contarini, should condescend to the defence
+of a servant.
+
+Zorzi went his way calmly and spent the day in the laboratory. He was in
+a frame of mind in which such speeches as Giovanni's could make but
+little impression upon him, sensitive though he naturally was. Really
+great sorrows, or great joys or great emotions, make smaller ones almost
+impossible for the time. Men of vast ambition, whose deeds are already
+moving the world and making history, are sometimes as easily annoyed by
+trifles as a nervous woman; but he who knows that what is dearest to him
+is slipping from his hold, or has just been taken, is half paralysed in
+his sense of outward things. His own mind alone has power to give him a
+momentary relief.
+
+Herein lies one of the strongest problems of human nature. We say with
+assurance that the mind rules the body, we feel that the spirit in some
+way overshadows and includes the mind. Yet if this were really true the
+spirit--that is, the will--should have power against bodily pain, but
+not against moral suffering except with some help from a higher source.
+But it is otherwise. If the will of ordinary human beings could
+hypnotise the body against material sensation, the credit due to those
+brave believers in all ages who have suffered cruel torments for their
+faith would be singularly diminished. If the mind could dominate matter
+by ordinary concentration of thought, a bad toothache should have no
+effect upon the delicate imagination of the poet, and Napoleon would not
+have lost the decisive battle of his life by a fit of indigestion, as
+has been asserted.
+
+On the other hand, there was never yet a man of genius, or even of great
+talent, who was not aware that the most acute moral anguish can be
+momentarily forgotten, as if it did not exist for the time, by
+concentrating the mind upon its accustomed and favourite kind of work.
+Johnson wrote _Rasselas_ to pay for the funeral of his yet unburied
+mother, and Johnson was a man of heart if ever one lived; he could not
+have written the book if he had had a headache. Saints and ascetics
+without end and of many persuasions have resorted to bodily pain as a
+means of deadening the imagination and exalting the will or spirit. Some
+great thinkers have been invalids, but in every case their food, work
+has been done when they were temporarily free from pain. Perhaps the
+truth is on the side of those mystics who say that although the mind is
+of a higher nature than matter, it is so closely involved with it that
+neither can get away from the other, and that both together tend to shut
+out the spirit and to forget its existence, which is a perpetual
+reproach to them; and any ordinary intellectual effort being produced by
+the joint activity of mind and the matter through which the mind acts,
+the condition of the spirit at the time has little or no effect upon
+them, nor upon what they are doing. And if one would carry the little
+theory further, one might find that the greatest works of genius have
+been produced when the effort of mind and matter has taken place under
+the inspiration of the spirit, so that all three were momentarily
+involved together. But such thoughts lead far, and it may be that they
+profit little. The best which a man means to do is generally better than
+the best he does, and it is perhaps the best he is capable of doing.
+
+Be these things as they may, Zorzi worked hard in the laboratory,
+minutely carrying out the instructions he had received, but reasoning
+upon them with a freshness and keenness of thought of which his master
+was no longer capable. When he had made the trials and had added the new
+ingredients for future ones, he began to think out methods of his own
+which had suggested themselves to him of late, but which he had never
+been able to try. But though he had the furnace to himself, to use as
+long as he could endure the heat of the advancing summer, he was face
+to face with a difficulty that seemed insuperable.
+
+The furnace had but three crucibles, each of which contained one of the
+mixtures by means of which he and Beroviero were trying to produce the
+famous red glass. In order to begin to make glass in his own way, it was
+necessary that one of the three should be emptied, but unless he
+disobeyed his orders this was out of the question. In his train of
+thought and longing to try what he felt sure must succeed, he had
+forgotten the obstacle. The check brought him back to himself, and he
+walked disconsolately up and down the long room by the side of the
+furnace.
+
+Everything was against him, said the melancholy little demon that
+torments genius on dark days. It was not enough that he should be forced
+by every consideration of honour and wisdom to hide his love for his
+master's daughter; when he took refuge in his art and tried to throw his
+whole life into it, he was stopped at the outset by the most impassable
+barriers of impossibility. The furious desire to create, which is the
+strength as well as the essence of genius, surged up and dashed itself
+to futile spray upon the face of the solid rock.
+
+He stood still before the hanging shelves on which he had placed the
+objects he had occasionally made, and which his master allowed him to
+keep there--light, air-thin vessels of graceful shapes: an ampulla of
+exquisite outline with a long curved spout that bent upwards and then
+outwards and over like the stalk of a lily of the valley; a large
+drinking-glass set on a stem so slender that one would doubt its
+strength to carry the weight of a full measure, yet so strong that the
+cup might have been filled with lead without breaking it; a broad dish
+that was nothing but a shadow against the light, but in the shadow was a
+fair design of flowers, drawn free with a diamond point; there were a
+dozen of such things on the shelves, not the best that Zorzi had made,
+for those Beroviero took to his own house and used on great occasions,
+while these were the results of experiments unheard of in those days,
+and which not long afterwards made a school.
+
+In his present frame of mind Zorzi felt a foolish impulse to take them
+down and smash them one by one in the big jar into which the failures
+were thrown, to be melted again in the main furnace, for in a
+glass-house nothing is thrown away. He knew it was foolish, and he held
+his hands behind him as he looked at the things, wishing that he had
+never made them, that he had never learned the art he was forbidden by
+law to practise, that he had never left Dalmatia as a little boy long
+ago, that he had never been born.
+
+The door opened suddenly and Giovanni entered. Zorzi turned and looked
+at him in silence. He was surprised, but he supposed that the master's
+son had a right to come if he chose, though he never showed himself in
+the glass-house when his father was in Murano.
+
+"Are you alone here?" asked Giovanni, looking about him. "Do none of the
+workmen come here?"
+
+"The master has left me in charge of his work," answered Zorzi. "I need
+no help."
+
+Giovanni seated himself in his father's chair and looked at the table
+before the window.
+
+"It is not very hard work, I fancy," he observed, crossing one leg over
+the other and pulling up his black hose to make it fit his lean calf
+better.
+
+Zorzi suspected at once that he had come in search of information, and
+paused before answering.
+
+"The work needs careful attention," he said at last.
+
+"Most glass-work does," observed Giovanni, with a harsh little laugh.
+"Are you very attentive, then? Do you remember to do all that my father
+told you?"
+
+"The master only left this morning. So far, I have obeyed his orders."
+
+"I do not understand how a man who is not a glass-blower can know enough
+to be left alone in charge of a furnace," said Giovanni, looking at
+Zorzi's profile.
+
+This time Zorzi was silent. He did not think it necessary to tell how
+much he knew.
+
+"I suppose my father knows what he is about," continued Giovanni, in a
+tone of disapproval.
+
+Zorzi thought so too, and no reply seemed necessary. He stood still,
+looking out of the window, and wishing that his visitor would go away.
+But Giovanni had no such intention.
+
+"What are you making?" he asked presently.
+
+"A certain kind of glass," Zorzi answered.
+
+"A new colour?"
+
+"A certain colour. That is all I can tell you."
+
+"You can tell me what colour it is," said Giovanni. "Why are you so
+secret? Even if my father had ordered you to be silent with me about his
+work, which I do not believe, you would not be betraying anything by
+telling me that. What colour is he trying to make?"
+
+"I am to say nothing about it, not even to you. I obey my orders."
+
+Giovanni was a glass-maker himself. He rose with an air of annoyance and
+crossed the laboratory to the jar in which the broken glass was kept,
+took out a piece and held it up against the light. Zorzi had made a
+movement as if to hinder him, but he realised at once that he could not
+lay hands on his master's son. Giovanni laughed contemptuously and threw
+the fragment back into the jar.
+
+"Is that all? I can do better than that myself!" he said, and he sat
+down again in the big chair.
+
+His eyes fell on the shelves upon which Zorzi's specimens of work were
+arranged. He looked at them with interest, at once understanding their
+commercial value.
+
+"My father can make good things when he is not wasting time over
+discoveries," he remarked, and rising again he went nearer and began to
+examine the little objects.
+
+Zorzi said nothing, and after looking at them a long time Giovanni
+turned away and stood before the furnace. The copper ladle with which
+the specimens were taken from the pots lay on the brick ledge near one
+of the 'boccas.' Giovanni took it, looked round to see where the iron
+plate for testing was placed, and thrust the ladle into the aperture,
+holding it lightly lest the heat should hurt his hand.
+
+"You shall not do that!" cried Zorzi, who was already beside him.
+
+Before Giovanni knew what was happening Zorzi had struck the ladle from
+his hand, and it disappeared through the 'bocca' into the white-hot
+glass within.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+With an oath Giovanni raised his hand to strike Zorzi in the face, but
+the quick Dalmatian snatched up his heavy blow-pipe in both hands and
+stood in an attitude of defence.
+
+"If you try to strike me, I shall defend myself," he said quietly.
+
+Giovanni's sour face turned grey with fright, and then as his impotent
+anger rose, the grey took an almost greenish hue that was bad to see. He
+smiled in a sickly fashion. Zorzi set the blow-pipe upright against the
+furnace and watched him, for he saw that the man was afraid of him and
+might act treacherously.
+
+"You need not be so violent," said Giovanni, and his voice trembled a
+little, as he recovered himself. "After all, my father would not have
+made any objection to my trying the glass. If I had, I could not have
+guessed how it was made."
+
+Zorzi did not answer, for he had discovered that silence was his best
+weapon. Giovanni continued, in the peevish tone of a man who has been
+badly frightened and is ashamed of it.
+
+"It only shows how ignorant you are of glass-making, if you suppose that
+my father would care." As he still got no reply beyond a shrug of the
+shoulders, he changed the subject. "Did you see my father make any of
+those things?" he asked, pointing to the shelves.
+
+"No," answered Zorzi.
+
+"But he made them all here, did he not?" insisted Giovanni. "And you are
+always with him."
+
+"He did not make any of them."
+
+Giovanni opened his eyes in astonishment. In his estimation there was no
+man living, except his father, who could have done such work. Zorzi
+smiled, for he knew what the other's astonishment meant.
+
+"I made them all," he said, unable to resist the temptation to take the
+credit that was justly his.
+
+"You made those things?" repeated Giovanni incredulously.
+
+But Zorzi was not in the least offended by his disbelief. The more
+sceptical Giovanni was, the greater the honour in having produced
+anything so rarely beautiful.
+
+"I made those, and many others which the master keeps in his house," he
+said.
+
+Giovanni would have liked to give him the lie, but he dared not just
+then.
+
+"If you made them, you could make something of the kind again," he said.
+"I should like to see that. Take your blow-pipe and try. Then I shall
+believe you."
+
+"There is no white glass in the furnace," answered Zorzi. "If there
+were, I would show you what I can do."
+
+Giovanni laughed sourly.
+
+"I thought you would find some good excuse," he said.
+
+"The master saw me do the work," answered Zorzi unconcernedly. "Ask him
+about it when he comes back."
+
+"There are other furnaces in the glass-house," suggested Giovanni. "Why
+not bring your blow-pipe with you and show the workmen as well as me
+what you can do?"
+
+Zorzi hesitated. It suddenly occurred to him that this might be a
+decisive moment in his life, in which the future would depend on the
+decision he made. In all the years since he had been with Beroviero he
+had never worked at one of the great furnaces among the other men.
+
+"I daresay your sense of responsibility is so great that you do not like
+to leave the laboratory, even for half an hour," said Giovanni
+scornfully. "But you have to go home at night."
+
+"I sleep here," answered Zorzi.
+
+"Indeed?" Giovanni was surprised. "I see that your objections are
+insuperable," he added with a laugh.
+
+Zorzi was in one of those moods in which a man feels that he has nothing
+to lose. There might, however, be something to gain by exhibiting his
+skill before Giovanni and the men. His reputation as a glass-maker would
+be made in half an hour.
+
+"Since you do not believe me, come," he said at last. "You shall see for
+yourself."
+
+He took his blow-pipe and thrust it through one of the 'boccas' to melt
+off the little red glass that adhered to it. Then he cooled it in water,
+and carefully removed the small particles that stuck to the iron here
+and there like spots of glazing.
+
+"I am ready," he said, when he had finished.
+
+Giovanni rose and led the way, without a word. Zorzi followed him, shut
+the door, turned the key twice and thrust it into the bosom of his
+doublet. Giovanni turned and watched him.
+
+"You are really very cautions," he said. "Do you always lock the door
+when you go out?"
+
+"Always," answered Zorzi, shouldering his blow-pipe.
+
+They crossed the little garden and entered the passage that led to the
+main furnace rooms. In the first they entered, eight or ten men and
+youths, masters and apprentices, were at work. The place was higher and
+far more spacious than the laboratory, the furnace was broader and
+taller and had four mouths instead of three. The sunlight streamed
+through a window high above the floor and fell upon the arched back of
+the annealing oven, the window being so placed that the sun could never
+shine upon the working end and dazzle the workmen.
+
+When Giovanni and Zorzi entered, the men were working in silence. The
+low and steady roar of the flames was varied by the occasional sharp
+click of iron or the soft sound of hot glass rolling on the marver, or
+by the hiss of a metal instrument plunged into water to cool it. Every
+man had an apprentice to help him, and two boys tended the fire. The
+foreman sat at a table, busy with an account, a small man, even paler
+than the others and dressed in shabby brown hose and a loose brown coat.
+The workmen wore only hose and shirts.
+
+Without desisting from their occupations they cast surprised glances at
+Giovanni and his companion, whom they all hated as a favoured person.
+One of them was finishing a drinking-glass, rolling the pontil on the
+arms of the working-stool; another, a beetle-browed fellow, swung his
+long blow-pipe with its lump of glowing glass in a full circle, high in
+air and almost to touch the ground; another was at a 'bocca' in the low
+glare; all were busy, and the air was very hot and close. The men looked
+grim and ill-tempered.
+
+Giovanni explained the object of his coming in a way intended to
+conciliate them to himself at Zorzi's expense. Their presence gave him
+courage.
+
+"This is Zorzi, the man without a name," he said, "who is come from
+Dalmatia to give us a lesson in glass-blowing."
+
+One of the men laughed, and the apprentices tittered. The others looked
+as if they did not understand. Zorzi had known well enough what humour
+he should find among them, but he would not let the taunt go unanswered.
+
+"Sirs," he said, for they all claimed the nobility of the glass-blowers'
+caste, "I come not to teach you, but to prove to the master's son that I
+can make some trifle in the manner of your art."
+
+No one spoke. The workmen in the elder Beroviero's house knew well
+enough that Zorzi was a better artist than they, and they had no mind to
+let him outdo them at their own furnace.
+
+"Will any one of you gentlemen allow me to use his place?" asked Zorzi
+civilly.
+
+Not a man answered. In the sullen silence the busy hands moved with
+quick skill, the furnace roared, the glowing glass grew in ever-changing
+shapes.
+
+"One of you must give Zorzi his place," said Giovanni, in a tone of
+authority.
+
+The little foreman turned quite round in his chair and looked on. There
+was no reply. The pale men went on with their work as if Giovanni were
+not there, and Zorzi leaned calmly on his blow-pipe. Giovanni moved a
+step forward and spoke directly to one of the men who had just dropped a
+finished glass into the bed of soft wood ashes, to be taken to the
+annealing oven.
+
+"Stop working for a while," he said. "Let Zorzi have your place."
+
+"The foreman gives orders here, not you," answered the man coolly, and
+he prepared to begin another piece.
+
+Giovanni was very angry, but there were too many of the workmen, and he
+did not say what rose to his lips, but crossed over to the foreman.
+Zorzi kept his place, waiting to see what might happen.
+
+"Will you be so good as to order one of the men to give up his place?"
+Giovanni asked.
+
+The old foreman smiled at this humble acknowledgment of his authority,
+but he argued the point before acceding.
+
+"The men know well enough what Zorzi can do," he answered in a low
+voice. "They dislike him, because he is not one of us. I advise you to
+take him to your own glass-house, sir, if you wish to see him work. You
+will only make trouble here."
+
+"I am not afraid of any trouble, I tell you," replied Giovanni. "Please
+do what I ask."
+
+"Very well. I will, but I take no responsibility before the master if
+there is a disturbance. The men are in a bad humour and the weather is
+hot."
+
+"I will be responsible to my father," said Giovanni.
+
+"Very well," repeated the old man. "You are a glass-maker yourself, like
+the rest of us. You know how we look upon foreigners who steal their
+knowledge of our art."
+
+"I wish to make sure that he has really stolen something of it."
+
+The foreman laughed outright.
+
+"You will be convinced soon enough!" he said. "Give your place to the
+foreigner, Piero," he added, speaking to the man who had refused to move
+at Giovanni's bidding.
+
+Piero at once chilled the fresh lump of glass he had begun to fashion
+and smashed it off the tube into the refuse jar. Without a word Zorzi
+took his place. While he warmed the end of his blow-pipe at the 'bocca'
+he looked to right and left to see where the working-stool and marver
+were placed, and to be sure that the few tools he needed were at hand,
+the pontil, the 'procello,'--that is, the small elastic tongs for
+modelling--and the shears. Piero's apprentice had retired to a distance,
+as he had received no special orders, and the workmen hoped that Zorzi
+would find himself in difficulty at the moment when he would turn in the
+expectation of finding the assistant at his elbow. But Zorzi was used to
+helping himself. He pushed his blow-pipe into the melted glass and drew
+it out, let it cool a moment and then thrust it in again to take up more
+of the stuff.
+
+The men went on with their work, seeming to pay no attention to him, and
+Piero turned his back and talked to the foreman in low tones. Only
+Giovanni watched, standing far enough back to be out of reach of the
+long blow-pipe if Zorzi should unexpectedly swing it to its full length.
+Zorzi was confident and unconcerned, though he was fully aware that the
+men were watching every movement he made, while pretending not to see.
+He knew also that owing to his being partly self-taught he did certain
+things in ways of his own. They should see that his ways were as good as
+theirs, and what was more, that he needed no help, while none of them
+could do anything without an apprentice.
+
+The glass grew and swelled, lengthened and contracted with his breath
+and under his touch, and the men, furtively watching him, were amazed to
+see how much he could do while the piece was still on the blow-pipe.
+But when he could do no more they thought that he would have trouble. He
+did not even turn his head to see whether any one was near to help him.
+At the exact moment when the work was cool enough to stand he attached
+the pontil with its drop of liquid glass to the lower end, as he had
+done many a time in the laboratory, and before those who looked on could
+fully understand how he had done it without assistance, the long and
+heavy blow-pipe lay on the floor and Zorzi held his piece on the lighter
+pontil, heating it again at the fire.
+
+The men did not stop working, but they glanced at each other and nodded,
+when Zorzi could not see them. Giovanni uttered a low exclamation of
+surprise. The foreman alone now watched Zorzi with genuine admiration;
+there was no mistaking the jealous attitude of the others. It was not
+the mean envy of the inferior artist, either, for they were men who, in
+their way, loved art as Beroviero himself did, and if Zorzi had been a
+new companion recently promoted from the state of apprenticeship in the
+guild, they would have looked on in wonder and delight, even if, at the
+very beginning, he outdid them all. What they felt was quite different.
+It was the deep, fierce hatred of the mediaeval guildsman for the
+stranger who had stolen knowledge without apprenticeship and without
+citizenship, and it was made more intense because the glass-blowers were
+the only guild that excluded every foreign-born man, without any
+exception. It was a shame to them to be outdone by one who had not
+their blood, nor their teaching, nor their high acknowledged rights.
+
+They were peaceable men in their way, not given to quarrelling, nor
+vicious; yet, excepting the mild old foreman, there was not one of them
+who would not gladly have brought his iron blow-pipe down on Zorzi's
+head with a two-handed swing, to strike the life out of the intruder.
+
+Zorzi's deft hands made the large piece he was forming spin on itself
+and take new shape at every turn, until it had the perfect curve of
+those slim-necked Eastern vessels for pouring water upon the hands,
+which have not even now quite degenerated from their early grace of
+form. While it was still very hot, he took a sharp pointed knife from
+his belt and with a turn of his hand cut a small round hole, low down on
+one side. The mouth was widened and then turned in and out like the leaf
+of a carnation. He left the cooling piece on the pontil, lying across
+the arms of the stool, and took his blow-pipe again.
+
+"Has the fellow not finished his tricks yet?" asked Piero
+discontentedly.
+
+It would have given him pleasure to smash the beautiful thing to atoms
+where it lay, almost within his reach. Zorzi began to make the spout,
+for it was a large ampulla that he was fashioning. He drew the glass
+out, widened it, narrowed it, cut it, bent it and finished off the
+nozzle before he touched it with wet iron and made it drop into the
+ashes. A moment later he had heated the thick end of it again and was
+welding it over the hole he had made in the body of the vessel.
+
+"The man has three hands!" exclaimed the foreman.
+
+"And two of them are for stealing," added Piero.
+
+"Or all three," put in the beetle-browed man who was working next to
+Zorzi.
+
+Zorzi looked at him coldly a moment, but said nothing. They did not mean
+that he was a thief, except in the sense that he had stolen his
+knowledge of their art. He went on to make the handle of the ampulla, an
+easy matter compared with making the spout. But the highest part of
+glass-blowing lies in shaping graceful curves, and it is often in the
+smallest differences of measurement that the pieces made by Beroviero
+and Zorzi--preserved intact to this day--differ from similar things made
+by lesser artists. Yet in those little variations lies all the great
+secret that divides grace from awkwardness. Zorzi now had the whole
+vessel, with its spout and handle, on the pontil. It was finished, but
+he could still ornament it. His own instinct was to let it alone,
+leaving its perfect shape and airy lightness to be its only beauty, and
+he turned it thoughtfully as he looked at it, hesitating whether he
+should detach it from the iron, or do more.
+
+"If you have finished your nonsense, let me come back to my work," said
+Piero behind him.
+
+Zorzi did not turn to answer, for he had decided to add some delicate
+ornaments, merely to show Giovanni that he was a full master of the art.
+The dark-browed man had just collected a heavy lump of glass on the end
+of his blow-pipe, and was blowing into it before giving it the first
+swing that would lengthen it out. He and Piero exchanged glances,
+unnoticed by Zorzi, who had become almost unconscious of their hostile
+presence. He began to take little drops of glass from the furnace on the
+end of a thin iron, and he drew them out into thick threads and heated
+them again and laid them on the body of the ampulla, twisting and
+turning each bit till he had no more, and forming a regular raised
+design on the surface. His neighbour seemed to get no further with what
+he was doing, though he busily heated and reheated his lump of glass and
+again and again swung his blow-pipe round his head, and backward and
+forward. The foreman was too much interested in Zorzi to notice what the
+others were doing.
+
+Zorzi was putting the last touches to his work. In a moment it would be
+finished and ready to go to the annealing oven, though he was even then
+reflecting that the workmen would certainly break it up as soon as the
+foreman turned his back. The man next to him swung his blow-pipe again,
+loaded with red-hot glass.
+
+It slipped from his hand, and the hot mass, with the full weight of the
+heavy iron behind it, landed on Zorzi's right foot, three paces away,
+with frightful force. He uttered a sharp cry of surprise and pain. The
+lovely vessel he had made flew from his hands and broke into a thousand
+tiny fragments. In excruciating agony he lifted the injured foot from
+the ground and stood upon the other. Not a hand was stretched out to
+help him, and he felt that he was growing dizzy. He made a frantic
+effort to hop on one leg towards the furnace, so as to lean against the
+brickwork. Piero laughed.
+
+"He is a dancer!" he cried. "He is a 'ballarino'!" The others all
+laughed, too, and the name remained his as long as he lived--he was
+Zorzi Ballarin.
+
+The old foreman came to help him, seeing that he was really injured, for
+no one had quite realised it at first. Savagely as they hated him, the
+workmen would not have tortured him, though they might have killed him
+outright if they had dared. Excepting Piero and the man who had hurt
+him, the workmen all went on with their work.
+
+He was ghastly pale, and great drops of sweat rolled down his forehead
+as he reached the foreman's chair and sat down: but after the first cry
+he had uttered, he made no sound. The foreman could hear how his teeth
+ground upon each other as he mastered the frightful suffering. Giovanni
+came, and stood looking at the helpless foot, smashed by the weight that
+had fallen upon it and burned to the bone in an instant by the molten
+glass.
+
+"I cannot walk," he said at last to the foreman. "Will you help me?"
+
+His voice was steady but weak. The foreman and Giovanni helped him to
+stand on his left foot, and putting his arms round their necks he swung
+himself along as he could. The dark man had picked up his blow-pipe and
+was at work again.
+
+"You will pay for that when the master comes back," Piero said to him as
+Zorzi passed. "You will starve if you are not careful."
+
+Zorzi turned his head and looked the dark man full in the eyes.
+
+"It was an accident," he said faintly. "You did not mean to do it."
+
+The man looked away shamefacedly, for he knew that even if he had not
+meant to injure Zorzi for life, he had meant to hurt him if he could.
+
+As for Giovanni, he was puzzled by all that had happened so
+unexpectedly, for he was a dull man, though very keen for gain, and he
+did not understand human nature. He disliked Zorzi, but during the
+morning he had become convinced that the gifted young artist was a
+valuable piece of property, and not, as he had supposed, a clever
+flatterer who had wormed himself into old Beroviero's confidence. A man
+who could make such things was worth much money to his master. There
+were kings and princes, from the Pope to the Emperor, who would have
+given a round sum in gold for the beautiful ampulla of which only a heap
+of tiny fragments were now left to be swept away.
+
+The two men brought Zorzi across the garden to the door of the
+laboratory. Leaning heavily on the foreman he got the key out, and
+Giovanni turned it in the lock. They would have taken him to the small
+inner room, to lay him on his pallet bed, but he would not go.
+
+"The bench," he managed to say, indicating it with a nod of his head.
+
+There was an old leathern pillow in the big chair. The foreman took it
+and placed it under Zorzi's head.
+
+"We must get a surgeon to dress his wound," said the foreman.
+
+"I will send for one," answered Giovanni. "Is there anything you want
+now?" he asked, with an attempt to speak kindly to the valuable piece of
+property that lay helpless before him.
+
+"Water," said Zorzi very faintly. "And feed the fire--it must be time."
+
+The foreman dipped a cupful of water from an earthen jar, held up his
+head and helped him to drink. Giovanni pushed some wood into the
+furnace.
+
+"I will send for a surgeon," he repeated, and went out.
+
+Zorzi closed his eyes, and the foreman stood looking at him.
+
+"Do not stay here," Zorzi said. "You can do nothing for me, and the
+surgeon will come presently."
+
+Then the foreman also left him, and he was alone. It was not in his
+nature to give way to bodily pain, but he was glad the men were gone,
+for he could not have borne much more in silence. He turned his head to
+the wall and bit the edge of the leathern cushion. Now and then his
+whole body shook convulsively.
+
+He did not hear the door open again, for the torturing pain that shot
+through him dulled all his other senses. He wished that he might faint
+away, even for a moment, but his nerves were too sound for that. He was
+recalled to outer things by feeling a hand laid gently on his leg, and
+immediately afterwards he heard a man's voice, in a quietly gruff tone
+that scarcely rose or fell, reciting a whole litany of the most
+appalling blasphemies that ever fell from human lips. For an instant, in
+his suffering, Zorzi fancied that he had died and was in the clutches of
+Satan himself.
+
+He turned his head on the cushion and saw the ugly face of the old
+porter, who was bending down and examining the wounded foot while he
+steadily cursed everything in heaven and earth, with an earnestness that
+would have been grotesque had his language been less frightful. For a
+few moments Zorzi almost forgot that he was hurt, as he listened. Not a
+saint in the calendar seemed likely to escape the porter's fury, and he
+even went to the length of cursing the relatives, male and female, of
+half-legendary martyrs and other good persons about whose families he
+could not possibly know anything.
+
+"For heaven's sake, Pasquale!" cried Zorzi. "You will certainly be
+struck by lightning!"
+
+He had always supposed that the porter hated him, as every one else did,
+and he could not understand. By this time he was far more helpless than
+he had been just after he had been hurt, and when he tried to move the
+injured foot to a more comfortable position it felt like a lump of
+scorching lead.
+
+The porter entered upon a final malediction, which might be supposed to
+have gathered destructive force by collecting into itself all those that
+had gone before, and he directed the whole complex anathema upon the
+soul of the coward who had done the foul deed, and upon his mother, his
+sisters and his daughters if he had any, and upon the souls of all his
+dead relations, men, women and children, and all of his relations that
+should ever be born, to the end of time. He had been a sailor in his
+youth.
+
+"Who did that to you?" he asked, when he had thus devoted the unknown
+offender to everlasting perdition.
+
+"Give me some water, please," said Zorzi, instead of answering the
+question.
+
+"Water! Oh yes!" Pasquale went to the earthen jar. "Water! Every devil
+in hell, old and young, will jump and laugh for joy when that man asks
+for water and has to drink flames!"
+
+Zorzi drank eagerly, though the water was tepid.
+
+"Drink, my son," said Pasquale, holding his head up very tenderly with
+one of his rough hands. "I will put more within reach for you to drink,
+while I go and get help."
+
+"They have sent for a surgeon," answered Zorzi.
+
+"A surgeon? No surgeon shall come here. A surgeon will divide you into
+lengths, fore and aft, and kill you by inches, a length each day, and
+for every day he takes to kill you, he will ask a piece of silver of the
+master! If a surgeon comes here I will throw him out into the canal.
+This is a burn, and it needs an old woman to dress it. Women are evil
+beings, a chastisement sent upon us for our sins. But an old woman can
+dress a burn. I go. There is the water."
+
+Zorzi called him back when he was already at the door.
+
+"The fire! It must not go down. Put a little wood in, Pasquale!"
+
+The old porter grumbled. It was unnatural that a man so badly hurt
+should think of his duties, but in his heart he admired Zorzi all the
+more for it. He took some wood, and when Zorzi looked, he was trying to
+poke it through the 'bocca.'
+
+"Not there!" cried Zorzi desperately. "The small opening on the side,
+near the floor."
+
+Pasquale uttered several maledictions.
+
+"How should I know?" he asked when he had found the right place. "Am I a
+night boy? Have I ever tended fires for two pence a night and my supper?
+There! I go!"
+
+Zorzi could hear his voice still, as he went out.
+
+"A surgeon!" he grumbled. "I should like to see the nose of that surgeon
+at the door!"
+
+Zorzi cared little who came, so that he got some relief. His head was
+hot now, and the blood beat in his temples like little fiery hammers,
+that made a sort of screaming noise in his brain. He saw queer lights in
+circles, and the beams of the ceiling came down very near, and then
+suddenly went very far away, so that the room seemed a hundred feet
+high. The pain filled all his right side, and he even thought he could
+feel it in his arm.
+
+All at once he started, and as he lay on his back his hands tried to
+grip the flat wood of the bench, and his eyes were wide open and fixed
+in a sort of frightened stare.
+
+What if he should go mad with pain? Who would remember the fire in the
+master's furnace? Worse than that, what safety was there that in his
+delirium he should not speak of the book that was hidden under the
+stone, the third from the oven and the fourth from the corner?
+
+His brain whirled but he would not go mad, nor lose consciousness, so
+long as he had the shadow of free will left. Rather than lie there on
+his back, he would get off his bench, cost what it might, and drag
+himself to the mouth of the furnace. There was a supply of wood there,
+piled up by the night boys for use during the day. He could get to it,
+even if he had to roll himself over and over on the floor. If he could
+do that, he could keep his hold upon his consciousness, the touch of the
+billets would remind him, the heat and the roar of the fire would keep
+him awake and in his right mind.
+
+He raised himself slowly and put his uninjured foot to the floor. Then,
+with both hands he lifted the other leg off the bench. He was conscious
+of an increase of pain, which had seemed impossible. It shot through and
+through his whole body; and he saw flames. There was only one way to do
+it, he must get down upon his hands and his left knee and drag himself
+to the furnace in that way. It was a thing of infinite difficulty and
+suffering, but he did it. Inch by inch, he got nearer.
+
+As his right hand grasped a billet of wood from the little pile,
+something seemed to break in his head. His strength collapsed, he fell
+forward from his knee to his full length in the ashes and dust, and he
+felt nothing more.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+The porter unbarred the door and looked out. It was nearly noon and the
+southerly breeze was blowing. The footway was almost deserted. On the
+other side of the canal, in the shadow of the Beroviero house, an old
+man who sold melons in slices had gone to sleep under a bit of ragged
+awning, and the flies had their will of him and his wares. A small boy
+simply dressed in a shirt, and nothing else, stood at a little distance,
+looking at the fruit and listening attentively to the voice of the
+tempter that bade him help himself.
+
+Pasquale looked at the house opposite. Everything was quiet, and the
+shutters were drawn together, but not quite closed. The flowers outside
+Marietta's window waved in the light breeze.
+
+"Nella!" cried Pasquale, just as he was accustomed to call the maid when
+Marietta wanted her.
+
+At the sound of his voice the little boy, who was about to deal
+effectually with his temptation by yielding to it at once, took to his
+heels and ran away. But no one looked out from the house. Pasquale
+called again, somewhat louder. The shutters of Marietta's window were
+slowly opened inward and Marietta herself appeared, all in white and
+pale, looking over the flowers.
+
+"What is it?" she asked. "Why do you want Nella?"
+
+The canal was narrow, so that one could talk across it almost in an
+ordinary tone.
+
+"Your pardon, lady," answered Pasquale. "I did not mean to disturb you.
+There has been a little accident here, saving your grace."
+
+This he added to avert possible ill fortune. Marietta instantly thought
+of Zorzi. She leaned forward upon the window-sill above the flowers and
+spoke anxiously.
+
+"What has happened? Tell me quickly!"
+
+"A man has had his foot badly burned--it must be dressed at once."
+
+"Who is it?"
+
+"Zorzi."
+
+Pasquale saw that Marietta started a little and drew back. Then she
+leaned forward again.
+
+"Wait there a minute," she said, and disappeared quickly.
+
+The porter heard her calling Nella from an inner room, and then he heard
+Nella's voice indistinctly. He waited before the open door.
+
+Nella was a born chatterer, but she had her good qualities, and in an
+emergency she was silent and skilful.
+
+"Leave it to me," she said. "He will need no surgeon."
+
+In her room she had a small store of simple remedies, sweet oil, a pot
+of balsam, old linen carefully rolled up in little bundles, a precious
+ointment made from the fat of vipers, which was a marvellous cure for
+rheumatism in the joints, some syrup of poppies in a stumpy phial, a box
+of powdered iris root, and another of saffron. She took the sweet oil,
+the balsam, and some linen. She also took a small pair of scissors which
+were among her most precious possessions. She threw her large black
+kerchief over her head and pinned it together under her chin.
+
+When she came back to Marietta's room, her mistress was wrapped in a
+dark mantle that covered hear thin white dress entirely, and one corner
+of it was drawn up over her head so as to hide her hair and almost all
+her face. She was waiting by the door.
+
+"I am going with you," she said, and her voice was not very steady.
+
+"But you will be seen--" began Nella.
+
+"By the porter."
+
+"Your brother may see you--"
+
+"He is welcome. Come, we are losing time." She opened the door and went
+out quickly.
+
+"I shall certainly be sent away for letting you come!" protested Nella,
+hurrying after her.
+
+Marietta did not even answer this, which Nella thought very unkind of
+her. From the main staircase Marietta turned off at the first landing,
+and went down a short corridor to the back stairs of the house, which
+led to the narrow lane beside the building. Nella snorted softly in
+approval, for she had feared that her mistress would boldly pass through
+the hall where there were always one or two idle men-servants in
+waiting. The front door was closed against the heat, they had met no one
+and they reached the door of the glass-house without being seen.
+
+Pasquale looked at Marietta but said nothing until all three were
+inside. Then he took hold of Marietta's mantle at her elbow, and held
+her back. She turned and looked at him in amazement.
+
+"You must not go in, lady," he said. "It is an ugly wound to see."
+
+Marietta pushed him aside quietly, and led the way. Nella followed her
+as fast as she could, and Pasquale came last. He knew that the two women
+would need help.
+
+Zorzi lay quite still where he had fallen, with one hand on the billet
+of beech wood, the other arm doubled under him, his cheek on the dusty
+stone. With a sharp cry Marietta ran forward and knelt beside his head,
+dropping her long mantle as she crossed the room. Pasquale uttered an
+uncompromising exclamation of surprise.
+
+"O, most holy Mary!" cried Nella, holding up her hands with the things
+she carried.
+
+Marietta believed that Zorzi was dead, for he was very white and he lay
+quite still. At first she opened her eyes wide in horror, but in a
+moment she sank down, covering her face. Pasquale knelt opposite her on
+one knee, and began to turn Zorzi on his back. Nella was at his feet,
+and she helped, with great gentleness.
+
+"Do not be frightened, lady," said Pasquale reassuringly. "He has only
+fainted. I left him on the bench, but you see he must have tried to get
+up to feed the fire."
+
+While he spoke he was lifting Zorzi as well as he could. Marietta
+dropped her hands and slowly opened her eyes, and she knew that Zorzi
+was alive when she saw his face, though it was ghastly and smeared with
+grey ashes. But in those few moments she had felt what she could never
+forget. It had been as if a vast sword-stroke had severed her body at
+the waist, and yet left her heart alive.
+
+"Can you help a little?" asked Pasquale. "If I could get him into my
+arms, I could carry him alone."
+
+Marietta sprang to her feet, all her energy and strength returning in a
+moment. The three carried the unconscious man easily enough to the bench
+and laid him down, as he had lain before, with his head on the leathern
+cushion. Then Nella set to work quickly and skilfully, for she hoped to
+dress the wound while he was still insensible. Marietta helped her,
+instinctively doing what was right. It was a hideous wound.
+
+"It will heal more quickly than you think," said Nella, confidently.
+"The burning has cauterised it."
+
+Marietta, delicately reared and unused to such sights, would have felt
+faint if the man had not been Zorzi. As it was she only felt sharp pain,
+each time that Nella touched the foot. Pasquale looked on, helpless but
+approving.
+
+Zorzi groaned, then opened his eyes and moved one hand. Nella had almost
+finished.
+
+"If only he can be kept quiet a few moments longer," she said, "it will
+be well done."
+
+Zorzi writhed in pain, only half conscious yet. Marietta left Nella to
+put on the last bandages, and came and looked down into his face, taking
+one of his hands in hers. He recognised her, and stared in wild
+surprise.
+
+"You must try and not move," she said softly. "Nella has almost
+finished."
+
+He forgot what he suffered, and the agonised contraction of his brows
+and mouth relaxed. Marietta wiped away the ashes from his forehead and
+cheeks, and smoothed back his thick hair. No woman's hand had touched
+him thus since his mother's when he had been a little child. He was too
+weak to question what was happening to him, but a soft light came into
+his eyes, and he unconsciously pressed Marietta's hand.
+
+She blushed at the pressure, without knowing why, and first the maiden
+instinct was to draw away her hand, but then she pitied him and let it
+stay. She thought, too, that her touch helped to keep him quiet, and
+indeed it did.
+
+"How did you know?" he asked at length, for in his half consciousness it
+had seemed natural that she should have come to him when she heard that
+he was hurt.
+
+"Pasquale called Nella," she answered simply, "and I came too. Is the
+pain still very great?"
+
+"It is much less. How can I thank you?"
+
+She looked into his eyes and smiled as he had seen her smile once or
+twice before in his life. His memory all came back now. He knew that
+she ought not to have been there, since her father was away. His
+expression changed suddenly.
+
+"What is the matter?" asked Marietta. "Does it hurt very much?"
+
+"No," he said. "I was thinking--" He checked himself, and glanced at the
+porter.
+
+A distant knocking was heard at the outer door, Pasquale shuffled off to
+see who was there.
+
+"I will wager that it is the surgeon!" he grumbled. "Evil befall his
+soul! We do not want him."
+
+"What were you going to say?" asked Marietta, bending down. "There is
+only Nella here now."
+
+"Nella should not have let you come," said Zorzi. "If it is known, your
+father will be very angry."
+
+"Ah, do you see?" cried Nella, rising, for she had finished. "Did I not
+tell you so, my pretty lady? And if your brother finds out that you have
+been here he will go into a fury like a wild beast! I told you so! And
+as for your help, indeed, I could have brought another woman, and there
+was Pasquale, too. I suppose he has hands. Oh, there will be a beautiful
+revolution in the house when this is known!"
+
+But Marietta did not mean to acknowledge that she had done anything but
+what was perfectly right and natural under the circumstances; to admit
+that would have been to confess that she had not come merely out of pity
+and human kindness.
+
+"It is absurd," she said with a little indignation. "I shall tell my
+brother myself that Zorzi was hurt, and that I helped you to dress his
+wound. And what is more, Nella, you will have to come; again, and I
+shall come with you as often as I please. All Murano may know it for
+anything I care."
+
+"And Venice too?" asked Nella, shaking her head in disapproval. "What
+will they say in Casa Contarini when they hear that you have actually
+gone out of the house to help a wounded young man in your father's
+glass-house?"
+
+"If they are human, they will say that I was quite right," answered
+Marietta promptly. "If they are not, why should I care what they say?"
+
+Zorzi smiled. At that moment Pasquale passed the window, and then came
+in by the open door, growling. His ugly face was transfigured by rage,
+until it had a sort of grotesque grandeur, and he clenched his fist as
+he began to speak.
+
+"Animals! Beasts! Brutes! Worse than savages! He was almost incoherent.
+
+"Well? What has happened now?" asked. Nella. "You talk like a mad dog.
+Remember the young lady!"
+
+"It would make a leaden statue speak!" answered Pasquale. "The Signor
+Giovanni sends a boy to say that the Surgeon was not at home, because he
+had gone to shave the arch-priest of San Piero!"
+
+In spite of the great pain he still suffered, Zorzi laughed, a little.
+
+"You said that you would throw, him into the canal if he came at all,"
+he said.
+
+"Yes, and so I meant to do!" cried Pasquale. "But that is no reason why
+the inhuman monster should be shaving the arch-priest when a man might
+be dying for need of him! Oh, let him come here! Oh, I advise him to
+come! The miserable, cowardly, bloodletting, soap-sudding, shaving
+little beast of a barber!"
+
+Pasquale drew a long breath after this, and unclenched his fist, but his
+lips still moved, as he said things to himself which would have shocked
+Marietta if she could have had the least idea of what they meant.
+
+"You cannot stay here," she said, turning to Zorzi again. "You cannot
+lie on this bench all day."
+
+"I shall soon be able to stand," answered Zorzi confidently. "I am much
+better."
+
+"You will not stand on that foot for many a day," said Nella, shaking
+her head.
+
+"Then Pasquale must get me a pair of crutches," replied Zorzi. "I cannot
+lie on my back because I have hurt one foot. I must tend the furnace, I
+must go on with my work, I must make the tests, I must--"
+
+He stopped short and bit his lip, turning white again as a spasm of
+excruciating pain shot along his right side, from his foot upwards.
+Marietta bent over him, full of anxiety.
+
+"You are suffering!" she said tenderly. "You must not try to move."
+
+"It is nothing," he answered through his closed teeth. "It will pass, I
+daresay."
+
+"It will not pass to-day," said Nella. "But I will bring you some syrup
+of poppies. That will make you sleep."
+
+Marietta seemed to feel the pain herself. She smoothed the leathern
+cushion under his head as well as she could, and softly touched his
+forehead. It was hot and dry now.
+
+"He is feverish," she said to Nella anxiously.
+
+"I will bring him barley water with the syrup of poppies. What do you
+expect? Do you think that such a wound and such a burn are cooling to
+the blood, and refreshing to the brain? The man is badly hurt. Of course
+he is feverish. He ought to be in his bed, like a decent Christian."
+
+"Some one must help me with the work," said Zorzi faintly.
+
+"There is no one but me," answered Marietta after a moment's pause.
+
+"You?" cried Nella, greatly scandalised.
+
+Even Pasquale stared at Marietta in silent astonishment.
+
+"Yes," she said quietly. "There is no one else who knows enough about my
+father's work."
+
+"That is true," said Zorzi. "But you cannot come here and work with me."
+
+Marietta turned away and walked to the window. In her thin dress she
+stood there a few minutes, like a slender lily, all white and gold in
+the summer light.
+
+"It is out of the question!" protested Nella. "Her brother will never
+allow her to come. He will lock her up in her own room for safety, till
+the master comes home."
+
+"I think I shall always do just what I think right," said Marietta
+quietly, as if to herself.
+
+"Lord!" cried Nella. "The young lady is going mad!"
+
+Nella was gathering together the remains of the things she had brought.
+Exhausted by the pain he had suffered, and by the efforts he had made to
+hide it, Zorzi lay on his back, looking with half-closed eyes at the
+graceful outline of the girl's figure, and vaguely wishing that she
+would never move, and that he might be allowed to die while quietly
+gazing at her.
+
+"Lady," said Pasquale at last, and rather timidly, "I will take good
+care of him. I will get him crutches to-morrow. I will come in the
+daytime and keep the fire burning for him."
+
+"It would be far better to let it go out," observed Nella, with much
+sense.
+
+"But the experiments!" cried Zorzi, suddenly coming back from his dream.
+"I have promised the master to carry them out."
+
+"You see what comes of your glass-working," retorted Nella, pointing to
+his bandaged foot.
+
+"How did it happen?" asked Marietta suddenly. "How did you do it?"
+
+"It was done for him," said Pasquale, "and may the Last Judgment come a
+hundred times over for him who did it!"
+
+His intention was clearer than his words.
+
+"Do you mean that it was done on purpose, out of spite?" asked Marietta,
+looking from Pasquale to Zorzi.
+
+"It was an accident," said the latter. "I was in the main furnace room
+with your brother. The blow-pipe with the hot glass slipped from a man's
+hand. Your brother saw it--he will tell you."
+
+"I have been porter here for five-and-twenty years," retorted Pasquale,
+"and there have been several accidents in that time. But I never heard
+of one like that."
+
+"It was nothing else," said Zorzi.
+
+His voice was weak. Nella had finished collecting her belongings.
+Marietta saw that she could not stay any longer at present, and she went
+once more to Zorzi's side.
+
+"Let Pasquale take care of you to-day," she said. "I will come and see
+how you are to-morrow morning."
+
+"I thank you," he answered. "I thank you with all my heart. I have no
+words to tell you how much."
+
+"You need none," said she quietly. "I have done nothing. It is Nella who
+has helped you."
+
+"Nella knows that I am very grateful."
+
+"Of course, of course!" answered the woman kindly. "You have made him
+talk too much," she added, speaking to Marietta. "Let us go away. I must
+prepare the barley water. It takes a long time."
+
+"Is he to have nothing but barley water?" asked Pasquale.
+
+"I will send him what he is to have," answered Nella, with an air of
+superiority.
+
+Marietta looked back at Zorzi from the door, and his eyes were following
+her. She bent her head gravely and went out, followed by the others, and
+he was alone again. But it was very different now. The spasms of pain
+came back now and then, but there was rest between them, for there was a
+potent anodyne in the balsam with which Nella had soaked the first
+dressing. Of all possible hurts, the pain from burning is the most acute
+and lasting, and the wise little woman, who sometimes seemed so foolish,
+had done all that science could have done for Zorzi, even at a much
+later day. He could think connectedly now, he had been able to talk; had
+it been possible for him to stand, he might even have gone on for a time
+with the preparations for the next experiment. Yet he felt an
+instinctive certainty that he was to be lame for life.
+
+He was not thinking of the experiments just then; he could think of
+nothing but Marietta. Four or five days had passed since he had talked
+with her in the garden, and she was now formally promised to Jacopo
+Contarini. He wondered why she had come with Nella, and he remembered
+her earnest offer of friendship. She meant to show him that she was
+still in earnest, he supposed. It had been perfect happiness to feel her
+cool young hand on his forehead, to press it in his own. No one could
+take that from him, as long as he lived. He remembered it through the
+horrible pain it had soothed, and it was better than the touch of an
+angel, for it was the touch of a loving woman. But he did not know that,
+and be fancied that if she had ever guessed that he loved her, she
+would not have come to him now. She would feel that the mere thought in
+his heart was an offence. And besides, she was to marry Contarini, and
+she was not of the kind that would promise to marry one man and yet
+encourage love in another. It was well, thought Zorzi, that she had
+never suspected the truth.
+
+When Marietta reached her room again she listened patiently to Nella's
+scolding and warning, for she did not hear a word the good woman said to
+her. Nella brushed the dust from the silk mantle and from Marietta's
+white skirt very industriously, lest it should betray the secret to
+Giovanni or any other member of the household. For they had escaped
+being seen, even when they came back.
+
+Nella scolded on in a little sing-song voice, with many rising
+inflections. In her whole life, she said, she had never connived at
+anything more utterly shameless than this! She was humble, indeed, and
+of no account in the world, but if she had run out in the middle of the
+day to visit a young man when she was betrothed to her poor Vito,
+blessed soul, and the Lord remember him, her poor Vito would have gone
+to her father, might the Lord refresh his soul, and would have said,
+"What ways are these? Do you think I will marry a girl who runs about in
+this fashion?" That was what Vito would have said. And he would have
+said, "Give me back the gold things I gave your daughter, and let me go
+and find a wife who does not run about the city." And it would have
+been well said. Did Marietta suppose that an educated person like the
+lord Jacopo Contarini would be less particular about his bride's manners
+than that good soul Vito? Not that Vito had been ignorant. Nella should
+have liked any one to dare to say that she had married an ignorant man!
+And so forth. And so on.
+
+Marietta heard the voice without listening to the words, and the gentle,
+half-complaining, half-reproving tone was rather soothing than
+otherwise. She sat by the half-closed window with her bead work, while
+Nella talked, and brushed, and moved about the room, making imaginary
+small tasks in order to talk the more. But Marietta threaded the red and
+blue beads and fastened them in patterns upon the piece of stuff she was
+ornamenting, and when Nella looked at her every now and then, she seemed
+quite calm and indifferent. There had always been something inscrutable
+about her.
+
+She was wondering why she had submitted to be betrothed to Contarini,
+when she loved Zorzi; and the answer did not come. She could not
+understand why it was that although she loved Zorzi with all her heart
+she had been convinced that she hated him, during four long, miserable
+days. Then, too, it was very strange that she should feel happy, that
+she should know that she was really happy, her heart brimming over with
+sunshine and joy, while Zorzi, whom she loved, was lying on that
+uncomfortable bench in dreadful pain. It was true that when she thought
+of his wound, the pain ran through her own limbs and made her move in
+her seat. But the next moment she was perfectly happy again, and yet was
+displeased with herself for it, as if it were not quite right.
+
+Nella stood still at last, close to her, and spoke to her so directly
+that she could not help hearing.
+
+"My little lady," said the woman, "do not forget that the women are
+coming early to-morrow morning to show you the stuffs which your father
+has chosen for your wedding gown."
+
+"Yes. I remember."
+
+Marietta laid down her work in the little basket of beads and looked
+away towards the window. Between the shutters she could just see one of
+the scarlet flowers of the sweet geranium, waving in the sunlight. It
+was true. The women were coming in the morning to begin the work. They
+would measure her, and cut out patterns in buckram and fit them on her,
+making her stand a long time. They would spread out silks and satins on
+the bed and on the table, they would hold them up and make long
+draperies with them, and make the light flash in the deep folds, and
+they would tell her how beautiful she would be as a bride, and that her
+skin was whiter than lilies and milk and snow, and her hair finer than
+silk and richer than ropes of spun red gold. While they were saying
+those things she would look very grave and indifferent, and nothing they
+could show her would make her open her eyes wide; but her heart would
+laugh long and sweetly, for she should be infinitely happy, though no
+one would know it. She would give no opinion about the gown, no matter
+how they pressed her with questions.
+
+After that the pieces that were to be embroidered would be very
+carefully weighed, the silk and the satin, and the weights of the pieces
+would be written down. Also, each of the hired women who were to make
+the embroidery would receive a certain amount of silver and gold thread,
+of which the weight would be written down under that of the stuff, and
+the two figures added together would mean just what the finished piece
+of embroidery ought to weigh. For if this were not done, the women would
+of course steal the gold and silver thread, a little every day, and take
+it away in their mouths, because the housekeeper would always search
+them every evening, in spite of the weighing. But they were well paid
+for the work and did not object to being suspected, for it was part of
+their business.
+
+In time, Marietta would go to see the work they were doing, in the great
+cool loft where they would sit all day, where the linen presses stood
+side by side, and the great chests which held the hangings and curtains
+and carpets that were used on great occasions. The housekeeper had her
+little room up there, and could watch the sewing-women at their work and
+scold them if they were idle, noting how much should be taken from their
+pay. The women would sing long songs, answering each other for an hour
+at a time, but no one would hear them below, because the house was so
+big.
+
+By and by the work would be almost finished, and then it would be quite
+done, and the wedding day would be very near. There Marietta's vision
+of the future suddenly came to a climax, as she tried to imagine what
+would happen when she should boldly declare that neither her father, nor
+the Council of Ten, nor the Doge himself, nor even His Holiness Pope
+Paul, who was a Venetian too, could ever make her marry Jacopo
+Contarini. There would be such a convulsion of the family as had never
+taken place since she was born. In her imagination she fancied all
+Murano taking sides for her or against her; even Venice itself would be
+amazed at the temerity of a girl who dared to refuse the husband her
+father had chosen for her. It would be an outrage on all authority, a
+scandal never to be forgotten, an unheard-of rebellion against the
+natural law by which unmarried children were held in bondage as slaves
+to their parents. But Marietta was not frightened by the tremendous
+consequences her fancy deduced from her refusal to marry. She was happy.
+Some day, the man she loved would know that she had faced the world for
+him, rather than be bound to any one else, and he would love her all the
+more dearly for having risked so much. She had never been so happy
+before. Only, now and then, when she thought of Zorzi's hurt, she felt a
+sharp thrill of pain run through her.
+
+All day the tide of joy was high in her heart. Towards evening, she sent
+Nella over to the glass-house to see how Zorzi was doing, and as soon as
+the woman was gone she stood at the open window, behind her flowers, to
+watch her go in, Pasquale would look out, the door would be open for a
+moment, she would be a little nearer.
+
+Even in that small anticipation she was not disappointed. It was a new
+joy to be able to look from her window into the dark entry that led to
+the place where Zorzi was. To-morrow, or the next day, he would perhaps
+come to the door, helped by Pasquale, but to-morrow morning she would go
+and see him, come what might. She was not afraid of her brother
+Giovanni, and it might be long before her father came back. Till then,
+at all events, she would do what she thought right, no matter how Nella
+might be scandalised.
+
+Nella came back, and said that Zorzi was better, that he had slept all
+the afternoon and now had very little pain, and he was not in any
+anxiety about the furnace, for Pasquale had kept the fire burning
+properly all day. Zorzi had begged Nella to deliver a message of thanks.
+
+"Try and remember just what he told you," said Marietta.
+
+"There was nothing especial," answered Nella with exasperating
+indifference. "He said that I was to thank you very much. Something like
+that--nothing else."
+
+"I am sure that those were not his words. Why did you forget them?"
+
+"If it had been an account of money spent, I should remember it
+exactly," answered Nella. "A pennyworth of thread, beeswax a farthing,
+so much for needles; I should forget nothing. But when a man says 'I
+thank you,' what is there to remember? But you are never satisfied!
+Nella may work her hands to the bone for you, Nella may run errands for
+you till she is lame, you are never pleased with what Nella does! It is
+always the same."
+
+She tossed her brown head to show that she was offended. But Marietta
+laughed softly and patted the little woman's cheek affectionately.
+
+"You are a dear little old angel," she said.
+
+Nella was pacified.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+The porter kept his word, and took good care of Zorzi. When the night
+boys had come, he carried him into the inner room and put him to bed
+like a child. Zorzi asked him to tell the boys to wake him at the
+watches, as they had done on the previous night, and Pasquale humoured
+him, but when he went away he wisely forgot to give the message, and the
+lads, who knew that he had been hurt, supposed that he was not to be
+disturbed. It was broad daylight when he awoke and saw Pasquale standing
+beside him.
+
+"Are the boys gone already?" he asked, almost as he opened his eyes.
+
+"No, they are all asleep in a corner," answered the porter.
+
+"Asleep!" cried Zorzi, in sudden anxiety. "Wake them, Pasquale, and see
+whether the sand-glass has been turned and is running, and whether the
+fire is burning. The young good-for-nothings!"
+
+"I will wake them," answered Pasquale. "I supposed that they were
+allowed to sleep after daylight."
+
+A moment later Zorzi heard him apostrophising the three lads with his
+usual vigour of language. Judging from the sounds that accompanied the
+words he was encouraging their movements by other means also. Presently
+one of the three set up a howl.
+
+"Oh, you sons of snails and codfish, I will teach you!" growled
+Pasquale; and he proceeded to teach them, till they were all three
+howling at once.
+
+Zorzi knew that they deserved a beating, but he was naturally
+tender-hearted.
+
+"Pasquale!" he called out. "Let them alone! Let them make up the fire!"
+
+Pasquale came back, and the yells subsided.
+
+"I have knocked their empty heads together," he observed. "They will not
+sleep for a week. Yes, the sand-glass has run out, but the fire is not
+very low. I will bring you water, and when you are dressed I will carry
+you out into the laboratory."
+
+The boys did not dare to go away till they had made up the fire. Then
+they took themselves off, and as Pasquale let them out he treated them
+to a final expression of his opinion. The tallest of the three was
+bleeding from his nose, which had been brought into violent conjunction
+with the skull of one of his companions. When the door was shut, and
+they had gone a few steps along the footway, he stopped the others.
+
+"We are glass-blowers' sons," he said, "and we have been beaten by that
+swine of a porter. Let us be revenged on him. Even Zorzi would not have
+dared to touch us, because he is a foreigner."
+
+"We can do nothing," answered the smallest boy disconsolately. "If I
+tell my father that we went to sleep, he will say that the porter
+served us right, and I shall get another beating."
+
+"You are cowards," said the first speaker. "But I am wounded," he
+continued proudly, pointing to his nose. "I will go to the master and
+ask redress. I will sit down before the door and wait for him."
+
+"Do what you please," returned the others. "We will go home."
+
+"You have no spirit of honour in you," said the tall boy contemptuously.
+
+He turned his back on them in disdain, crossed the bridge and sat down
+under the covered way in front of Beroviero's house. He smeared the
+blood over his face till he really looked as if he might be badly hurt,
+and he kept up a low, tremulous moaning. His nose really hurt him, and
+as he was extremely sorry for himself some real tears came into his eyes
+now and then. He waited a long time. The front door was opened and two
+men came out with brooms and began to sweep. When they saw him they were
+for making him go away, but he cried out that he was waiting for the
+Signor Giovanni, to show him how a free glass-blower's son had been
+treated by a dog of a foreigner and a swine of a porter over there in
+the glass-house. Then the servants let him stay, for they feared the
+porter and hated Zorzi for being a Dalmatian.
+
+At last Giovanni came out, and the boy at once uttered a particularly
+effective moan. Giovanni stopped and looked at him, and he gulped and
+sobbed vigorously.
+
+"Get up and go away at once!" said Giovanni, much disgusted by the sight
+of the blood.
+
+"I will not go till you hear me, sir," answered the boy dramatically. "I
+am a free glass-blower's son and I have been beaten like this by the
+porter of the glass-house! This is the way we are treated, though we
+work to learn the art as our fathers worked before us."
+
+"You probably went to sleep, you little wretch," observed Giovanni. "Get
+out of my way, and go home!"
+
+"Justice, sir! Justice!" moaned the boy, dropping himself on his knees.
+
+"Nonsense! Go away!" Giovanni pushed him aside, and began to walk on.
+
+The boy sprang up and followed him, and running beside him as Giovanni
+tried to get away, touched the skirt of his coat respectfully, and then
+kissed the back of his own hand.
+
+"If you will listen to me, sir," he said in a low voice, "I will tell
+you something you wish to know."
+
+Giovanni stopped short and looked at him with curiosity.
+
+"I will tell you of something the master did on the Sunday night before
+he went on his journey," continued the lad. "I am one of the night boys
+in the laboratory, and I saw with my eyes while the others were asleep,
+for we had been told to wait till we were called."
+
+Giovanni looked about, to see whether any one was within hearing. They
+were still in the covered footway above which the first story of the
+house was built, but were near the end, and the shutters of the lower
+windows were closed.
+
+"Tell me what you saw," said Giovanni, "but do not speak loud."
+
+At this moment the other two boys came running up with noisy
+lamentations. With the wisdom of their kind they had patiently watched
+to see whether their companion would get a hearing of the master, and
+judging that he had been successful at last, they came to enjoy the
+fruit of his efforts.
+
+"We also have been beaten!" they wailed, but they bore no outward and
+visible signs of ill-treatment on them.
+
+The elder boy turned upon them with righteous fury, and to their
+unspeakable surprise began to drive them away with kicks and blows. They
+could not stand against him, and after a brief resistance, they turned
+and ran at full speed. The victor came back to Giovanni's side.
+
+"They are cowardly fellows," he said, with disdain. "They are ignorant
+boys. What do you expect? But they will not come back."
+
+"Go on with your story," said Giovanni impatiently, "but speak low."
+
+"It was on Sunday night, sir. The master came to talk with Zorzi in the
+laboratory. I was in the garden, at the entrance of the other passage.
+When the door opened there was not much light, and the master was
+wrapped in his cloak, and he turned a little, and went in sideways, so
+I knew that he had something under his arm, for the door is narrow."
+
+"He was probably bringing over some valuable materials," said Giovanni.
+
+"I believe he was bringing the great book," said the boy confidently,
+but almost in a whisper.
+
+"What great book?"
+
+The lad looked at Giovanni with an expression of cunning on his face, as
+much as to say that he was not to be deceived by such a transparent
+pretence of ignorance.
+
+"He was afraid to leave it in his house," he said, "lest you should find
+it and learn how to make the gold as he does. So he took it over to the
+laboratory at night."
+
+Giovanni began to understand, though it was the first time he had heard
+that the boys, like the common people, suspected Angelo Beroviero of
+being an alchemist. It was clear that the boy meant the book that
+contained the priceless secrets for glass-making which Giovanni and his
+brother had so long coveted. His interest increased.
+
+"After all," he said, "you saw nothing distinctly. My father went in and
+shut the door, I suppose."
+
+"Yes," answered the boy. "But after a long time the door opened again."
+
+He stopped, resolved to be questioned, in order that his information
+should seem more valuable. The instinct of small boys is often as
+diabolically keen as that of a grown woman.
+
+"Go on!" said Giovanni, more and more interested. "The door opened
+again, you say? Then my father came out--"
+
+"No, sir. Zorzi came out into the light that fell from the door. The
+master was inside."
+
+"Well, what did Zorzi do? Be quick!"
+
+"He brought out a shovel full of earth, sir, and he carefully scattered
+it about over the flower-bed, and then he went back, and presently he
+came out with the shovel again, and more earth; and so three times. They
+had buried the great book somewhere in the laboratory."
+
+"But the laboratory is paved," objected Giovanni, to gain time, for he
+was thinking.
+
+"There is earth under the stones, sir. I remember seeing it last year
+when the masons put down several new slabs. The great book is somewhere
+under the floor of the laboratory. I must have stepped over it in
+feeding the fire last night, and that is why the devils that guard it
+inspired the porter to beat me this morning. It was the devils that sent
+us to sleep, for fear that we should find it."
+
+"I daresay," said Giovanni with much gravity, for he thought it better
+that the boy should be kept in awe of an object that possessed such
+immense value. "You should be careful in future, or ill may befall you."
+
+"Is it true, sir, that I have told you something you wished to know?"
+
+"I am glad to know that the great book is safe," answered Giovanni
+ambiguously.
+
+"Zorzi knows where it is," suggested, the boy in a tone meant to convey
+the suspicion that Zorzi might use his knowledge.
+
+"Yes--yes," repeated Giovanni thoughtfully, "and he is ill. He ought to
+be brought over to the house until he is better."
+
+"Then the furnace could be allowed to get out, sir, could it not?"
+
+"Yes. The weather is growing warm, as it is. Yes--the furnace may be put
+out now." Giovanni hardly knew that he was speaking aloud. "Zorzi will
+get well much sooner if he is in a good room in the house. I will see to
+it."
+
+The boy stood still beside him, waiting patiently for some reward.
+
+"Are we to come as usual to-night, sir, or will there be no fire?" he
+asked.
+
+"Go and ask at the usual time. I have not decided yet. There--you are a
+good boy. If you hold your tongue there will be more."
+
+Giovanni offered the lad a piece of money, but he would not take it.
+
+"We are glass-blowers' sons, sir, we are not poor people," he said with
+theatrical pride, for he would have taken the coin without remark if he
+had not felt that he possessed a secret of great value, which might
+place Giovanni in his power before long.
+
+Giovanni was surprised.
+
+"What do you want, then?" he asked.
+
+"I am old enough to be an apprentice, sir."
+
+"Very well," answered Giovanni. "You shall be an apprentice. But hold
+your tongue about what you saw. You told me everything, did you?"
+
+"Yes, sir. And I thank you for your kindness, sir. If I can help you,
+sir--" he stopped.
+
+"Help me!" exclaimed Giovanni. "I do not work at the furnaces! Wash your
+face and come by and by to my glass-house, and you shall have an
+apprentice's place."
+
+"I shall serve you well, sir. You shall see that I am grateful,"
+answered the boy.
+
+He touched Giovanni's sleeve and kissed his own hand, and ran back to
+the steps before the front door. There he knelt down, leaning over the
+water, and washed his face in the canal, well pleased with the price he
+had got for his bruising.
+
+Giovanni did not look at him, but turned to go on, past the corner of
+the house, in deep thought. From the narrow line into which the back
+door opened, Marietta and Nella emerged at the same moment. Nella had
+made sure that Giovanni had gone out, but she could not foresee that he
+would stop a long time to talk with the boy in the covered footway. She
+ran against him, as he passed the corner, for she was walking on
+Marietta's left side. The young girl's face was covered, but she knew
+that Giovanni must recognise her instantly, by her cloak, and because
+Nella was with her.
+
+"Where are you going?" he asked sharply.
+
+"To church, sir, to church," answered Nella in great perturbation. "The
+young lady is going to confession."
+
+"Ah, very good, very good!" exclaimed Giovanni, who was very attentive
+to religious forms. "By all means go to confession, my sister. You
+cannot be too conscientious in the performance of your duties."
+
+But Marietta laughed a little under her veil.
+
+"I had not the least intention of going to confession this morning," she
+said. "Nella said so because you frightened her."
+
+"What? What is this?" Giovanni looked from one to the other. "Then where
+are you going?"
+
+"To the glass-house," answered Marietta with perfect coolness.
+
+"You are not going to the laboratory? Zorzi is living there alone. You
+cannot go there."
+
+"I am not afraid of Zorzi. In the first place, I wish to know how he is.
+Secondly, this is the hour for making the tests, and as he cannot stand
+he cannot try the glass alone."
+
+Giovanni was amazed at her assurance, and immediately assumed a grave
+and authoritative manner befitting the eldest brother who represented
+the head of the house.
+
+"I cannot allow you to go," he said. "It is most unbecoming. Our father
+would be shocked. Go back at once, and never think of going to the
+laboratory while Zorzi is there. Do you hear?"
+
+"Yes. Come, Nella," she added, taking her serving-woman by the arm.
+
+Before Giovanni realised what she was going to do, she was walking
+quickly across the wooden bridge towards the glass-house, holding
+Nella's sleeve, to keep her from lagging, and Nella trotted beside her
+mistress like a frightened lamb, led by a string. Giovanni did not
+attempt to follow at first, for he was utterly nonplussed by his
+sister's behaviour. He rarely knew what to do when any one openly defied
+him. He stood still, staring after the two, and saw Marietta tap upon
+the door of the glass-house. It opened almost immediately and they
+disappeared within.
+
+As soon as they were out of sight, his anger broke out, and he made a
+few quick steps on the bridge. Then he stopped, for he was afraid to
+make a scandal. That at least was what he said to himself, but the fact
+was that he was afraid to face his sister, who was infinitely braver and
+cooler than he. Besides, he reflected that he could not now prevent her
+from going to the laboratory, since she was already there, and that it
+would be very undignified to make a scene before Zorzi, who was only a
+servant after all. This last consideration consoled him greatly. In the
+eyes of the law, and therefore in Giovanni's, Zorzi was a hired servant.
+Now, socially speaking, a servant was not a man; and since Zorzi was not
+a man, and Marietta was therefore gone with one servant to a place,
+belonging to her father, where there was another servant, to go thither
+and forcibly bring her back would either be absurd, or else it would
+mean that Zorzi had acquired a new social rank, which was absurd also.
+There is no such consolation to a born coward as a logical reason for
+not doing what he is afraid to do.
+
+But Giovanni promised himself that he would make his sister pay dearly
+for having defied him, and as he had also made up his mind to have Zorzi
+removed to the house, on pretence of curing his hurt, but in reality in
+order to search for the precious manuscripts, it would be impossible for
+Marietta to commit the same piece of folly a second time. But she should
+pay for the affront she had put upon him.
+
+He accordingly came back to the footway and walked along toward his own
+glass-house; and the boy, who had finished washing his face, smoothed
+his hair with his wet fingers and followed him, having seen and
+understood all that had happened.
+
+Marietta sent Pasquale on, to tell Zorzi that she was coming, and when
+she reached the laboratory he was sitting in the master's big chair,
+with his foot on a stool before him. His face was pale and drawn from
+the suffering of the past twenty-four hours, and from time to time he
+was still in great pain. As Marietta entered, he looked up with a
+grateful smile.
+
+"You seem glad to see us after all," she said. "Yet you protested that I
+should not come to-day!"
+
+"I cannot help it," he answered.
+
+"Ah, but if you had been with us just now!" Nella began, still
+frightened.
+
+But Marietta would not let her go on.
+
+"Hold your tongue, Nella," she said, with a little laugh. "You should
+know better than to trouble a sick man's fancy with such stories."
+
+Nella understood that Zorzi was not to know, and she began examining
+the foot, to make sure that the bandages had not been displaced during
+the night.
+
+"To-morrow I will change them," she said. "It is not like a scald. The
+glass has burned you like red-hot iron, and the wound will heal
+quickly."
+
+"If you will tell me which crucible to try," said Marietta, "I will make
+the tests for you. Then we can move the table to your side and you can
+prepare the new ingredients according to the writing."
+
+Pasquale had left them, seeing that he was not wanted.
+
+"I fear it is of little use," answered Zorzi, despondently. "Of course,
+the master is very wise, but it seems to me that he has added so much,
+from time to time, to the original mixture, and so much has been taken
+away, as to make it all very uncertain."
+
+"I daresay," assented Marietta. "For some time I have thought so. But we
+must carry out his wishes to the letter, else he will always believe
+that the experiments might have succeeded if he had stayed here."
+
+"Of course," said Zorzi. "We should make tests of all three crucibles
+to-day, if it is only to make more room for the things that are to be
+put in."
+
+"Where is the copper ladle?" asked Marietta. "I do not see it in its
+place."
+
+"I have none--I had forgotten. Your brother came here yesterday morning,
+and wanted to try the glass himself in spite of me. I knocked the ladle
+out of his hand and it fell through into the crucible."
+
+"That was like you," said Marietta. "I am glad you did it."
+
+"Heaven knows what has happened to the thing," Zorzi answered. "It has
+been there since yesterday morning. For all I know, it may have melted
+by this time. It may affect the glass, too."
+
+"Where can I get another?" asked Marietta, anxious to begin.
+
+Zorzi made an instinctive motion to rise. It hurt him badly and he bit
+his lip.
+
+"I forgot," he said. "Pasquale can get another ladle from the main
+glass-house."
+
+"Go and call Pasquale, Nella," said Marietta at once. "Ask him to get a
+copper ladle."
+
+Nella went out into the garden, leaving the two together. Marietta was
+standing between the chair and the furnace, two or three steps from
+Zorzi. It was very hot in the big room, for the window was still shut.
+
+"Tell me how you really feel," Marietta said, almost at once.
+
+Every woman who loves a man and is anxious about him is sure that if she
+can be alone with him for a moment, he will tell her the truth about his
+condition. The experience of thousands of years has not taught women
+that if there is one person in the world from whom a man will try to
+conceal his ills and aches, it is the woman he loves, because he would
+rather suffer everything than give her pain.
+
+"I feel perfectly well," said Zorzi.
+
+"Indeed you are not!" answered Marietta, energetically. "If you were
+perfectly well you would be on your feet, doing your work yourself. Why
+will you not tell me?"
+
+"I mean, I have no pain," said Zorzi.
+
+"You had great pain just now, when you tried to move," retorted
+Marietta. "You know it. Why do you try to deceive me? Do you think I
+cannot see it in your face?"
+
+"It is nothing. It comes now and then, and goes away again almost at
+once."
+
+Marietta had come close to him while she was speaking. One hand hung by
+her side within his reach. He longed to take it, with such a longing as
+he had never felt for anything in his life; he resisted with all the
+strength he had left. But he remembered that he had held her hand in his
+yesterday, and the memory was a force in itself, outside of him, drawing
+him in spite of himself, lifting his arm when he commanded it to lie
+still. His eyes could not take themselves from the beautiful white
+fingers, so delicately curved as they hung down, so softly shaded to
+pale rose colour at their tapering tips. She stood quite still, looking
+down at his bent head.
+
+"You would not refuse my friendship, now," she said, in a low voice, so
+low that when she had spoken she doubted whether he could have
+understood.
+
+He took her hand then, for he had no resistance left, and she let him
+take it, and did not blush. He held it in both his own and silently drew
+it to him, till he was pressing it to his heart as he had never hoped to
+do.
+
+"You are too good to me," he said, scarcely knowing that he pronounced
+the words.
+
+Nella passed the window, coming back from her errand. Instantly Marietta
+drew her hand away, and when the serving-woman entered she was speaking
+to Zorzi in the most natural tone in the world.
+
+"Is the testing plate quite clean?" she asked, and she was already
+beside it.
+
+Zorzi looked at her with amazement. She had almost been seen with her
+hand in his, a catastrophe which he supposed would have entailed the
+most serious consequences; yet there she was, perfectly unconcerned and
+not even faintly blushing, and she had at once pretended that they had
+been talking about the glass.
+
+"Yes--I believe it is clean," he answered, almost hesitating. "I cleaned
+it yesterday morning."
+
+Nella had brought the copper ladle. There were always several in the
+glass-works for making tests. Marietta took it and went to the furnace,
+while Nella watched her, in great fear lest she should burn herself. But
+the young girl was in no danger, for she had spent half her life in the
+laboratory and the garden, watching her father. She wrapped the wet
+cloth round her hand and held the ladle by the end.
+
+"We will begin with the one on the right," she said, thrusting the
+instrument through the aperture.
+
+Bringing it out with some glass in it, she supported it with both hands
+as she went quickly to the iron table, and she instantly poured out the
+stuff and began to watch it.
+
+"It is just what you had the other day," she said, as the glass rapidly
+cooled.
+
+Zorzi was seated high enough to look over the table.
+
+"Another failure," he said. "It is always the same. We have scarcely had
+any variation in the tint in the last week."
+
+"That is not your fault," answered Marietta. "We will try the next."
+
+As if she had been at the work all her life, she chilled the ladle and
+chipped off the small adhering bits of glass from it, and slipped the
+last test from the table, carrying it to the refuse jar with tongs. Once
+more she wrapped the damp cloth round her hand and went to the furnace.
+The middle crucible was to be tried next. Nella, looking on with nervous
+anxiety, was in a profuse perspiration.
+
+"I believe that is the one into which the ladle fell," said Zorzi. "Yes,
+I am quite sure of it."
+
+Marietta took the specimen and poured it out, set down the ladle on the
+brick work, and watched the cooling glass, expecting to see what she had
+often seen before. But her face changed, in a look of wonder and
+delight.
+
+"Zorzi!" she exclaimed. "Look! Look! See what a colour!"
+
+"I cannot see well," he answered, straining his neck. "Wait a minute!"
+he cried, as Marietta took the tongs. "I see now! We have got it! I
+believe we have got it! Oh, if I could only walk!"
+
+"Patience--you shall see it. It is almost cool. It is quite stiff now."
+
+She took the little flat cake up with the tongs, very carefully, and
+held it before his eyes. The light fell through it from the window, and
+her head was close to his, as they both looked at it together.
+
+"I never dreamed of such a colour," said Zorzi, his face flushing with
+excitement.
+
+"There never was such a colour before," answered Marietta. "It is like
+the juice of a ripe pomegranate that has just been cut, only there is
+more light in it."
+
+"It is like a great ruby--the rubies that the jewellers call 'pigeon's
+blood.'"
+
+"My father always said it should be blood-red," said Marietta. "But I
+thought he meant something different, something more scarlet."
+
+"I thought so, too. What they call pigeon's blood is not the colour of
+blood at all. It is more like pomegranates, as you said at first. But
+this is a marvellous thing. The master will be pleased."
+
+Nella came and looked too, convinced that the glass had in some way
+turned out more beautiful by the magic of her mistress's touch.
+
+"It is a miracle!" cried the woman of the people. "Some saint must have
+made this."
+
+The glass glowed like a gem and seemed to give out light of its own. As
+Zorzi and Marietta looked, its rich glow spread over their faces. It was
+that rare glass which, from old cathedral windows, casts such a deep
+stain upon the pavement that one would believe the marble itself must be
+dyed with unchanging color.
+
+"We have found it together," said Marietta.
+
+Zorzi looked from the glass to her face, close by his, and their eyes
+met for a moment in the strange glow and it was as if they knew each
+other in another world.
+
+"Do not let the red light fall on your faces," said Nella, crossing
+herself. "It is too much like blood--good health to you," she added
+quickly for fear of evil.
+
+Marietta lowered her hand and turned the piece of glass sideways, to see
+how it would look.
+
+"What shall we do with it?" she asked. "It must not be left any longer
+in the crucible."
+
+"No. It ought to be taken out at once. Such a colour must be kept for
+church windows. If I were able to stand, I would make most of it into
+cylinders and cut them while hot. There are men who can do it, in the
+glass-house. But the master does not want them here."
+
+"We had better let the fires go out," said Marietta. "It will cool in
+the crucible as it is."
+
+"I would give anything to have that crucible empty, or an empty one in
+the place," answered Zorzi. "This is a great discovery, but it is not
+exactly what the master expected. I have an idea of my own, which I
+should like to try."
+
+"Then we must empty the crucible. There is no other way. The glass will
+keep its colour, whatever shape we give it. Is there much of it?"
+
+"There may be twenty or thirty pounds' weight," answered Zorzi. "No one
+can tell."
+
+Nell listened in mute surprise. She had never seen Marietta with old
+Beroviero, and she was amazed to hear her young mistress talking about
+the processes of glass-making, about crucibles and cylinders and
+ingredients as familiarly as of domestic things. She suddenly began to
+imagine that old Beroviero, who was probably a magician and an
+alchemist, had taught his daughter the same dangerous knowledge, and she
+felt a sort of awe before the two young people who knew such a vast deal
+which she herself could never know.
+
+She asked herself what was to become of this wonderful girl, half woman
+and half enchantress, who brought the colour of the saints' blood out of
+the white flames, and understood as much as men did of the art which was
+almost all made up of secrets. What would happen when she was the wife
+of Jacopo Contarini, shut up in a splendid Venetian palace where there
+were no glass furnaces to amuse her? At first she would grow pale,
+thought Nella, but by and by would weave spells in her chamber which
+would bring all Venice to her will, and turn it all to gold and precious
+stones and red glass, and the people to fairies subject to her will, her
+husband, the Council of Ten, even the Doge himself.
+
+Nella roused herself, and passed her hand over her eyes, as if she were
+waking from a dream. And indeed she had been dreaming, for she had
+looked too long into the wonderful depths of the new colour, and it had
+dazed her wits.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+On that day Marietta felt once more the full belief that Zorzi loved
+her; but the certainty did not fill her with happiness as on that first
+afternoon when she had seen him stoop to pick up the rose she had
+dropped. The time that had seemed so very distant had come indeed;
+instead of years, a week had scarcely passed, and it was not by letting
+a flower fall in his path that she had told him her love, as she had
+meant to do. She had done much more. She had let him take her hand and
+press it to his heart, and she would have left it there if Nella had not
+passed the window; she had wished him to take it, she had let it hang by
+her side in the hope that he would be bold enough to do so, and she had
+thrilled with delight at his touch; she had drawn back her hand when the
+woman came, and she had put on a look of innocent indifference that
+would have deceived one of the Council's own spies. Could any language
+have been more plain?
+
+It was very strange, she thought, that she should all at once have gone
+so far, that she should have felt such undreamt joy at the moment and
+then, when it was hers, a part of her life which nothing could ever undo
+nor take from her, it was stranger still that the remembrance of this
+wonderful joy should make her suddenly sad and thoughtful, that she
+should lie awake at night, wishing that it had never been, and
+tormenting herself with the idea that she had done an almost
+irretrievable wrong. At the very moment when the coming day was breaking
+upon her heart's twilight, a wall of darkness arose between her and the
+future.
+
+Much that is very good and true in the world is built upon the fanciful
+fears of evil that warn girls' hearts of harm. There are dangers that
+cannot be exaggerated, because the value of what they threaten cannot be
+reckoned too great, so long as human goodness rests on the dangerous
+quicksands of human nature.
+
+Marietta had not realised what it meant to be betrothed to Jacopo
+Contarini, until she had let her hand linger in Zorzi's. But after that,
+one hour had not passed before she felt that she was living between two
+alternatives that seemed almost equally terrible, and of which she must
+choose the one or the other within two months. She must either marry
+Contarini and never see Zorzi again, or she must refuse to be married
+and face the tremendous consequences of her unheard-of wilfulness, her
+father's anger, the just resentment of all the Contarini family, the
+humiliation which her brothers would heap upon her, because, in the code
+of those days, she would have brought shame on them and theirs. In those
+times such results were very real and inevitable when a girl's formal
+promise of marriage was broken, though she herself might never have been
+consulted.
+
+It was no wonder that Marietta was sleepless at night, and spent long
+hours of the day sitting listless by her window without so much as
+threading a score of beads from the little basket that stood beside her.
+Nella came and went often, looked at her, and shook her head with a wise
+smile.
+
+"It is the thought of marriage," said the woman of the people to
+herself. "She pines and grows pale now, because she is thinking that she
+must leave her father's house so soon, and she is afraid to go among
+strangers. But she will be happy by and by, like the swallows in
+spring."
+
+Nella remembered how frightened she herself had been when she was
+betrothed to her departed Vito, and she was thereby much comforted as to
+Marietta's condition. But she said nothing, after Marietta had coldly
+repelled her first attempt to talk of the marriage, though she forgave
+her mistress's frigid order to be silent, telling herself that no
+right-minded young girl could possibly be natural and sweet tempered
+under the circumstances. She was more than compensated for what might
+have seemed harshness, by something that looked very much like a
+concession. Marietta had not gone back to the laboratory since the
+discovery of the new glass, and a week had passed since then.
+
+Nella went every other day and did all that was necessary for Zorzi's
+recovery. Each time she came he asked her about Marietta, in a rather
+formal tone, as was becoming when he spoke of his master's daughter,
+but hoping that Nella might have some message to deliver, and he was
+more and more disappointed as he realised that Marietta did not mean to
+send him any. She had gone away on that morning with a sort of
+intimation that she would come back every day, but Nella did not so much
+as hint that she ever meant to come back at all.
+
+Zorzi went about on crutches, swinging his helpless foot as he walked,
+for it still hurt him when he put it to the ground. He was pale and
+thin, both from pain and from living shut up almost all day in the close
+atmosphere of the laboratory. For a change, he began to come out into
+the little garden, sometimes walking up and down on his crutches for a
+few minutes, and then sitting down to rest on the bench under the
+plane-tree, where Marietta had so often sat. Pasquale came and talked
+with him sometimes, but Zorzi never went to the porter's lodge.
+
+He felt that if he got as far as that he should inevitably open the door
+and look up at Marietta's window, and he would not do it, for he was
+hurt by her apparent indifference, after having allowed him to hold her
+hand in his. She had not even asked through Nella what had become of the
+beautiful glass. What he pretended to say to himself was that it would
+be very wrong to go and stand outside the glass-house, where the porter
+would certainly see him, and where he might be seen by any one else,
+staring at the window of his master's daughter's room on the other side
+of the canal. But what he really felt was that Marietta had treated him
+capriciously and that if he had a particle of self-respect he must show
+her that he did not care. For if Marietta was very like other carefully
+brought up girls of her age, Zorzi was nothing more than a boy where
+love was concerned, and like many boys who have struggled for existence
+in a more or less corrupt world, he had heard much more of the
+faithlessness and caprices of women in general than of the sensitiveness
+and delicate timidity of innocent young girls.
+
+Marietta was his perfect ideal, the most exquisite, the most beautiful
+and the most lovable creature ever endowed with form and sent into the
+world by the powers of good. He believed all this in his heart, with the
+certainty of absolute knowledge. But he was quite incapable of
+discerning the motives of her conduct towards him, and when he tried to
+understand them, it was not his heart that felt, but his reason that
+argued, having very little knowledge and no experience at all to help
+it; and since his erring reason demonstrated something that offended his
+self-esteem, his heart was hurt and nursed a foolish, small resentment
+against what he truly loved better than life itself. At one time or
+another most very young men in love have found themselves in that
+condition, and have tormented themselves to the verge of fever and
+distraction over imaginary hurts and wrongs. Was there ever a true lyric
+poet who did not at least once in his early days believe himself the
+victim of a heartless woman? And though long afterwards fate may have
+brought him face to face with the tragedy of unhappy love, fierce with
+passion and terrible with violent death, can he ever quite forget the
+fancied sufferings of first youth, the stab of a thoughtless girl's
+first unkind word, the sickening chill he felt under her first cold
+look? And what would first love be, if young men and maidens came to it
+with all the reason and cool self-judgment that long living brings?
+
+Zorzi sought consolation in his art, and as soon as he could stand and
+move about with his crutches he threw his whole pent-up energy into his
+work. The accidental discovery of the red glass had unexpectedly given
+him an empty crucible with which to make an experiment of his own, and
+while the materials were fusing he attempted to obtain the new colour in
+the other two, by dropping pieces of copper into each regardless of the
+master's instructions. To his inexpressible disappointment he completely
+failed in this, and the glass he produced was of the commonest tint.
+
+Then he grew reckless; he removed the two crucibles that had contained
+what had been made according to Beroviero's theories until he had added
+the copper, and he began afresh according to his own belief.
+
+On that very morning Giovanni Beroviero made a second visit to the
+laboratory. He came, he said, to make sure that Zorzi was recovering
+from his hurt, and Zorzi knew from Nella that Giovanni had made
+inquiries about him. He put on an air of sympathy when he saw the
+crutches.
+
+"You will soon throw them aside," he said, "but I am sorry that you
+should have to use them at all."
+
+When he entered, Zorzi was introducing a new mixture, carefully
+powdered, into one of the glass-pots with a small iron shovel. It was
+clear that he must put it all in at once, and he excused himself for
+going on with his work. Giovanni looked at the large quantity of the
+mixed ingredients with an experienced eye, and at once made up his mind
+that the crucible must have been quite empty. Zorzi was therefore
+beginning to make some kind of glass on his own account. It followed
+almost logically, according to Giovanni's view of men, fairly founded on
+a knowledge of himself, that Zorzi was experimenting with the secrets of
+Paolo Godi, which he and old Beroviero had buried together somewhere in
+that very room. Now, ever since the boy had told his story, Giovanni had
+been revolving plans for getting the manuscript into his possession
+during a few days, in order to copy it. A new scheme now suggested
+itself, and it looked so attractive that he at once attempted to carry
+it out.
+
+"It seems a pity," he said, "that a great artist like yourself should
+spend time on fruitless experiments. You might be making very beautiful
+things, which would sell for a high price."
+
+Without desisting from his occupation Zorzi glanced at his visitor,
+whose manner towards him had so entirely changed within a little more
+than a week. With a waif's quick instinct he guessed that Giovanni
+wanted something of him, but the generous instinct of the brave man
+towards the coward made him accept what seemed to be meant for an
+advance after a quarrel. It had never occurred to Zorzi to blame
+Giovanni for the accident in the glass-house, and it would have been
+very unjust to do so.
+
+"I can blow glass tolerably, sir," Zorzi answered. "But none of you
+great furnace owners would dare to employ me, in the face of the law.
+Besides, I am your father's man. I owe everything I know to his
+kindness."
+
+"I do not see what that has to do with it," returned Giovanni; "it does
+not diminish your merit, nor affect the truth of what I was saying. You
+might be doing better things. Any one can weigh out sand and kelp-ashes,
+and shovel them into a crucible!"
+
+"Do you mean that the master might employ me for other work?" asked
+Zorzi, smiling at the disdainful description of what he was doing.
+
+"My father--or some one else," answered Giovanni. "And besides your
+astonishing skill, I fancy that you possess much valuable knowledge of
+glass-making. You cannot have worked for my father so many years without
+learning some of the things he has taken great pains to hide from his
+own sons."
+
+He spoke the last words in a somewhat bitter tone, quite willing to let
+Zorzi know that he felt himself injured.
+
+"If I have learned anything of that sort by looking on and helping, when
+I have been trusted, it is not mine to use elsewhere," said Zorzi,
+rather proudly.
+
+"That is a fine moral sentiment, my dear young friend, and does you
+credit," replied Giovanni sententiously. "It is impossible not to
+respect a man who carries a fortune in his head and refuses to profit by
+it out of a delicate sense of honour."
+
+"I should have very little respect for a man who betrayed his master's
+secrets," said Zorzi.
+
+"You know them then?" inquired the other with unusual blandness.
+
+"I did not say so." Zorzi looked at him coldly.
+
+"Oh no! Even to admit it might not be discreet. But apart from Paolo
+Godi's secrets, which my father has left sealed in my care--"
+
+At this astounding falsehood Zorzi started and looked at Giovanni in
+unfeigned surprise.
+
+"--but which nothing would induce me to examine," continued Giovanni
+with perfect coolness, "there must be many others of my father's own,
+which you have learned by watching him. I respect you for your
+discretion. Why did you start and look at me when I said that the
+manuscript was in my keeping?"
+
+The question was well put, suddenly and without warning, and Zorzi was
+momentarily embarrassed to find an answer. Giovanni judged that his
+surprise proved the truth of the boy's story, and his embarrassment now
+added certainty to the proof. But Zorzi rarely lost his self-possession
+when he had a secret to keep.
+
+"If I seemed astonished," he said, "it may have been because you had
+just given me the impression that the master did not trust you, and I
+know how careful he is of the manuscript."
+
+"You know more than that, my friend," said Giovanni in a playful tone.
+
+Zorzi had now filled the crucible and was replacing the clay rings which
+narrow the aperture of the 'bocca.' He plastered more wet clay upon
+them, and it pleased Giovanni to see how well he knew every detail of
+the art, from the simplest to the most difficult operations.
+
+"Would anything you can think of induce you to leave my father?"
+Giovanni asked, as he had received no answer to his last remark. "Of
+course, I do not mean to speak of mere money, though few people quite
+despise it."
+
+"That may be understood in more than one way," answered Zorzi
+cautiously. "In the first place, do you mean that if I left the master,
+it would be to go to another master, or to set up as a master myself?"
+
+"Let us say that you might go to another glass-house for a fixed time,
+with the promise of then having a furnace of your own. How does that
+strike you?"
+
+"No one can give such a promise and keep it," said Zorzi, scraping the
+wet clay from his hands with a blunt knife.
+
+"But suppose that some one could," insisted Giovanni.
+
+"What is the use of supposing the impossible?" Zorzi shrugged his
+shoulders and went on scraping.
+
+"Nothing is impossible in the Republic, except what the Ten are resolved
+to hinder. And that is really impossible."
+
+"The Ten will not make new laws nor repeal old ones for the benefit of
+an unknown Dalmatian."
+
+"Perhaps not," answered Giovanni. "But on the other hand there is no
+very great penalty if you set up a furnace of your own. If you are
+discovered, your furnace will be put out, and you may have to pay a
+fine. It is no great matter. It is a civil offence, not a criminal one."
+
+"What is it that you wish of me?" asked Zorzi with sudden directness.
+"You are a busy man. You have not come here to pass a morning in idle
+conversation with your father's assistant. You want something of me,
+sir. Speak out plainly. If I can do what you wish, I will do it. If I
+cannot, I will tell you so, frankly."
+
+Giovanni was a little disconcerted by this speech. Excepting where money
+was concerned directly, his intelligence was of the sort that easily
+wastes its energy in futile cunning. He had not meant to reach the point
+for a long time, if he had expected to reach it at all at a first
+attempt.
+
+"I like your straightforwardness," he said evasively. "But I do not
+think your conversation idle. On the contrary, I find it highly
+instructive."
+
+"Indeed?" Zorzi laughed. "You do me much honour, sir! What have you
+learned from me this morning?"
+
+"What I wished to know," answered Giovanni with a change of tone, and
+looking at him keenly.
+
+Zorzi returned the glance, and the two men faced each other in silence
+for a moment. Zorzi knew what Giovanni meant, as soon as the other had
+spoken. The quick movement of surprise, which was the only indiscretion
+of which Zorzi had been guilty, would have betrayed to any one that he
+knew where the manuscript was, even if it were not in his immediate
+keeping. His instinct was to take the offensive and accuse his visitor
+of having laid a trap for him, but his caution prevailed.
+
+"Whatever you may think that you have learned from me," he said,
+"remember that I have told you nothing."
+
+"Is it here, in this room?" asked Giovanni, not heeding his last speech,
+and hoping to surprise him again.
+
+But he was prepared now, and his face did not change as he replied.
+
+"I cannot answer any questions," he said.
+
+"You and my father hid it together," returned Giovanni. "When you had
+buried it under the stones in this room, you carried the earth out with
+a shovel and scattered it about on a flower-bed. You took out three
+shovelfuls of earth in that way. You see, I know everything. What is the
+use of trying to hide your secret from me?"
+
+Zorzi was now convinced that Giovanni himself had been lurking in the
+garden.
+
+"Sir," he said, with ill-concealed contempt for a man capable of such
+spy's work, "if you have more to say of the same nature, pray say it to
+your father, when he comes back."
+
+"You misunderstand me," returned Giovanni with sudden mildness. "I had
+no intention of offending you. I only meant to warn you that you were
+watched on that night. The person who informed me has no doubt told many
+others also. It would have been very ill for you, if my father had
+returned to find that his secret was public property, and if you had
+been unable to explain that you had not betrayed him. I have given you a
+weapon of defence. You may call upon me to repeat what I have said, when
+you speak with him."
+
+"I am obliged to you, sir," said Zorzi coldly. "I shall not need to
+disturb you."
+
+"You are not wise," returned Giovanni gravely. "If I were
+curious--fortunately for you I am not!--I would send for a mason and
+have some of the stones of the pavement turned over before me. A mason
+would soon find the one you moved by trying them all with his hammer."
+
+"Yes," said Zorzi. "If this were a room in your own glass-house, you
+could do that. But it is not."
+
+"I am in charge of all that belongs to my father, during his absence,"
+answered Giovanni.
+
+"Yes," said Zorzi again. "Including Paolo Godi's manuscript, as you told
+me," he added.
+
+"You understand very well why I said that," Giovanni answered, with
+visible annoyance.
+
+"I only know that you said it," was the retort. "And as I cannot suppose
+that you did not know what you were saying, still less that you
+intentionally told an untruth, I really cannot see why you should
+suggest bringing a mason here to search for what must be in your own
+keeping."
+
+Zorzi spoke with a quiet smile, for he felt that he had the best of it.
+Be was surprised when Giovanni broke into a peal of rather affected
+laughter.
+
+"You are hard to catch!" he cried, and laughed again. "You did not
+really suppose that I was in earnest? Why, every one knows that you have
+the manuscript here."
+
+"Then I suppose you spoke ironically," suggested Zorzi.
+
+"Of course, of course! A mere jest! If I had known that you would take
+it so literally--" he stopped short.
+
+"Pray excuse me, sir. It is the first time I have ever heard you say
+anything playful."
+
+"Indeed! The fact is, my dear Zorzi, I never knew you well enough to
+jest with you, till to-day. Paolo Godi's secrets in my keeping? I wish
+they were! Oh, not that anything would induce me to break the seals. I
+told you that. But I wish they were in my possession. I tell you, I
+would pay down half my fortune to have them, for they would bring me
+back four times as much within the year. Half my fortune! And I am not
+poor, Zorzi."
+
+"Half your fortune?" repeated Zorzi. "That is a large sum, I imagine.
+Pray, sir, how much might half your fortune be, in round numbers? Ten
+thousand silver lires?"
+
+"Silver!" sneered Giovanni contemptuously.
+
+"Gold, then?" suggested Zorzi, drawing him on.
+
+"Gold? Well--possibly," admitted Giovanni with caution. "But of course I
+was exaggerating. Ten thousand gold pounds would be too much, of course.
+Say, five thousand."
+
+"I thought you were richer than that," said Zorzi coolly.
+
+"Do you mean that five thousand would not be enough to pay for the
+manuscript?" asked Giovanni.
+
+"The profits of glass-making are very large when one possesses a
+valuable secret," said Zorzi. "Five thousand--" He paused, as though in
+doubt, or as if making a mental calculation. Giovanni fell into the
+trap.
+
+"I would give six," he said, lowering his voice to a still more
+confidential tone, and watching his companion eagerly.
+
+"For six thousand gold lires," said Zorzi, smiling, "I am quite sure
+that you could hire a ruffian to break in and cut the throat of the man
+who has charge of the manuscript."
+
+Giovanni's face fell, but he quickly assumed an expression of righteous
+indignation.
+
+"How can you dare to suggest that I would employ such means to rob my
+father?" he cried.
+
+"If it were your intention to rob your father, sir, I cannot see that it
+would matter greatly what means you employed. But I was only jesting, as
+you were when you said that you had the manuscript. I did not expect
+that you would take literally what I said."
+
+"I see, I see," answered Giovanni, accepting the means of escape Zorzi
+offered him. "You were paying me back in my own coin! Well, well! It
+served me right, after all. You have a ready wit."
+
+"I thought that if my conversation were not as instructive as you had
+hoped, I could at least try to make it amusing--light, gay, witty! I
+trust you will not take it ill."
+
+"Not I!" Giovanni tried to laugh. "But what a wonderful thing is this
+human imagination of ours! Now, as I talked of the secrets, I forgot
+that they were my father's, they seemed almost within my grasp, I was
+ready to count out the gold, to count out six thousand gold lires. Think
+of that!"
+
+"They are worth it," said Zorzi quietly.
+
+"You should know best," answered the other. "There is no such glass as
+my father's for lightness and strength. If he had a dozen workmen like
+you, my brother and I should be ruined in trying to compete with him. I
+watched you very closely the other day, and I watched the others, too.
+By the bye, my friend, was that really an accident, or does the man owe
+you some grudge? I never saw such a thing happen before!"
+
+"It was an accident, of course," replied Zorzi without hesitation.
+
+"If you knew that the man had injured you intentionally, you should have
+justice at once," said Giovanni. "As it is, I have no doubt that my
+father will turn him out without mercy."
+
+"I hope not." Zorzi would say nothing more.
+
+Giovanni rose to go away. He stood still a moment in thought, and then
+smiled suddenly as if recollecting himself.
+
+"The imagination is an extraordinary thing!" he said, going back to the
+past conversation. "At this very moment I was thinking again that I was
+actually paying out the money--six thousand lires in gold! I must be
+mad!"
+
+"No," said Zorzi. "I think not."
+
+Giovanni turned away, shaking his head and still smiling. To tell the
+truth, though he knew Zorzi's character, he had not believed that any
+one could refuse such a bribe, and he was trying to account for the
+Dalmatian's integrity by reckoning up the expectations the young man
+must have, to set against such a large sum of ready money. He could only
+find one solution to the problem: Zorzi was already in full possession
+of the secrets, and would therefore not sell them at any price, because
+he hoped before long to set up for himself and make his own fortune by
+them. If this were true, and he could not see how it could be otherwise,
+he and his brother would be cheated of their heritage when their father
+died.
+
+It was clear that something must be done to hinder Zorzi from carrying
+out his scheme. After all, Zorzi's own jesting proposal, that a ruffian
+should be employed to cut his throat, was not to be rejected. It was a
+simple plan, direct and conclusive. It might not be possible to find
+the manuscript after all, but the only man who knew its contents would
+be removed, and Beroviero's sons would inherit what should come to them
+by right. Against this project there was the danger that the murderer
+might some day betray the truth, under torture, or might come back again
+and again, and demand more money; but the killing of a man who was not
+even a Venetian, who was an interloper, who could be proved to have
+abused his master's confidence, when he should be no longer alive to
+defend himself, did not strike Giovanni as a very serious matter, and as
+for any one ever forcing him to pay money which he did not wish to pay,
+he knew that to be a feat beyond the ability of an ordinary person.
+
+One other course suggested itself at once. He could forestall Zorzi by
+writing to his father and telling him what he sincerely believed to be
+the truth. He knew the old man well, and was sure that if once persuaded
+that Zorzi had betrayed him by using the manuscript, he would be
+merciless. The difficulty would lie in making Beroviero believe anything
+against his favourite. Yet in Giovanni's estimation the proofs were
+overwhelming. Besides, he had another weapon with which to rouse his
+father's anger against the Dalmatian. Since Marietta had defied him and
+had gone to see Zorzi in the laboratory, he had not found what he
+considered a convenient opportunity of speaking to her on the subject;
+that is to say, he had lacked the moral courage to do so at all. But it
+would need no courage to complain of her conduct to their father, and
+though Beroviero's anger might fall chiefly upon Marietta, a portion of
+it would take effect against Zorzi. It would be one more force acting in
+the direction of his ruin.
+
+Giovanni went away to his own glass-house, meditating all manner of evil
+to his enemy, and as he reckoned up the chances of success, he began to
+wonder how he could have been so weak as to offer Zorzi an enormous
+bribe, instead of proceeding at once to his destruction.
+
+Unconscious of his growing danger, Zorzi fed the fire of the furnace,
+and then sat down at the table before the window, laid his crutches
+beside him, and began to write out the details of his own experiments,
+as the master had done for years. He wrote the rather elaborate
+characters of the fifteenth century in a small but clear hand, very
+unlike old Beroviero's. The window was open, and the light breeze blew
+in, fanning his heated forehead; for the weather was growing hotter and
+hotter, and the order had been given to let the main furnaces cool after
+the following Saturday, as the workmen could not bear the heat many days
+longer. After that, they would set to work in a shed at the back of the
+glass-house to knead the clay for making new crucibles, and the night
+boys would enjoy their annual holiday, which consisted in helping the
+workmen by treading the stiff clay in water for several hours every day.
+
+A man's shadow darkened the window while Zorzi was writing, and he
+looked up. Pasquale was standing outside.
+
+"There is a pestering fellow at the door," he said, "who will not be
+satisfied till he has spoken with you. He says he has a message for you
+from some one in Venice, which he must deliver himself."
+
+"For me?" Zorzi rose in surprise.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+Zorzi swung himself along the dark corridor on his crutches after
+Pasquale, who opened the outer door with his usual deliberation. A
+little man stood outside in grey hose and a servant's dark coat,
+gathered in at the waist by a leathern belt. He was clean shaven and his
+hair was cropped close to his head, which was bare, for he held his
+black hat in his hand. Zorzi did not like his face. He waited for Zorzi
+to speak first.
+
+"Have you a message for me?" asked the Dalmatian. "I am Zorzi."
+
+"That is the name, sir," answered the man respectfully. "My master begs
+the honour and pleasure of your company this evening, as usual."
+
+"Where?" asked Zorzi.
+
+"My master said that you would know the place, sir, having been there
+before."
+
+"What is your master's name?"
+
+"The Angel," answered the man promptly, keeping his eyes on Zorzi's
+face.
+
+The latter nodded, and the servant at once made an awkward obeisance
+preparatory to going away.
+
+"Tell your master," said Zorzi, "that I have hurt my foot and am walking
+on crutches, so that I cannot come this evening, but that I thank him
+for his invitation, and send greeting to him and to the other guests."
+
+The man repeated some of the words in a tone hardly audible, evidently
+committing the message to memory.
+
+"Signor Zorzi--hurt his foot--crutches--thanks--greeting," he mumbled.
+"Yes, sir," he added in his ordinary voice, "I will say all that. Your
+servant, sir."
+
+With another awkward bow, he turned away to the right and walked very
+quickly along the footway. He had left his boat at the entrance to the
+canal, not knowing exactly where the glass-house was. Zorzi looked after
+him a moment, then turned himself on his sound foot and set his crutches
+before him to go in. Pasquale was there, and must have heard what had
+passed. He shut the door and followed Zorzi back a little way.
+
+"It is no concern of mine," he said roughly. "You may amuse yourself as
+you please, for you are young, and your host may be the Archangel
+Michael himself, or the holy Saint Mark, and the house to which you are
+bidden may be a paradise full of other angels! But I would as soon sit
+down before the grating and look at the hooded brother, while the
+executioner slipped the noose over my head to strangle me, as to go to
+any place on a bidding delivered by a fellow with such a jail-bird's
+head. It is as round as a bullet and as yellow as cheese. He has eyes
+like a turtle's and teeth like those of a young shark."
+
+"I am quite of your opinion," said Zorzi, halting at the entrance to the
+garden.
+
+"Then why did you not kick him into the canal?" inquired the porter,
+with admirable logic.
+
+"Do I look as if I could kick anything?" asked Zorzi, laughing and
+glancing at his lame foot.
+
+"And where should I have been?" inquired Pasquale indignantly. "Asleep,
+perhaps? If you had said 'kick,' I would have kicked. Perhaps I am a
+statue!"
+
+Zorzi pointed out that it was not usual to answer invitations in that
+way, even when declining them.
+
+"And who knows what sort of invitation it was?" retorted the old porter
+discontentedly. "Since when have you friends in Venice who bid you come
+to their houses at night, like a thief? Honest men, who are friends, say
+'Come and eat with me at noon, for to-day we have this, or this'--say, a
+roast sucking pig, or tripe with garlic. And perhaps you go; and when
+you have eaten and drunk and it is the cool of the afternoon, you come
+home. That is what Christians do. Who are they that meet at night? They
+are thieves, or conspirators, or dice-players, or all three."
+
+Pasquale happened to have been right in two guesses out of three, and
+Zorzi thought it better to say nothing. There was no fear that the surly
+old man would tell any one of the message; he had proved himself too
+good a friend to Zorzi to do anything which could possibly bring him
+into trouble, and Zorzi was willing to let him think what he pleased,
+rather than run the smallest risk of betraying the society of which he
+had been obliged to become a member. But he was curious to know why
+Contarini kept such a singularly unprepossessing servant, and why, if he
+chose to keep him, he made use of him to deliver invitations. The fellow
+had the look of a born criminal; he was just such a man as Zorzi had
+thought of when he had jestingly proposed to Giovanni to hire a
+murderer. Indeed, the more Zorzi thought of his face, the more he was
+inclined to doubt that the man came from Contarini at all.
+
+But in this he was mistaken. The message was genuine, and moreover, so
+far as Contarini and the society were concerned, the man was perfectly
+trustworthy. Possibly there were reasons why Contarini chose to employ
+him, and also why the servant was so consistently faithful to his
+master. After all, Zorzi reflected, he was certainly ignorant of the
+fact that the noble young idlers who met at the house of the Agnus Dei
+were playing at conspiracy and revolution.
+
+But that night, when Contarini's friends were assembled and had counted
+their members, some one asked what had become of the Murano
+glass-blower, and whether he was not going to attend their meetings in
+future; and Contarini answered that Zorzi had hurt his foot and was on
+crutches, and sent a greeting to the guests. Most of them were glad that
+he was not there, for he was not of their own order, and his presence
+caused a certain restraint in their talk. Besides, he was poor, and did
+not play at dice.
+
+"He works with Angelo Beroviero, does he not?" asked Zuan Venier in a
+tone of weary indifference.
+
+"Yes," answered Contarini with a laugh. "He is in the service of my
+future father-in-law."
+
+"To whom may heaven accord a speedy, painless and Christian death!"
+laughed Foscari in his black beard.
+
+"Not till I am one of his heirs, if you please," returned Contarini. "As
+soon after the wedding day as you like, for besides her rich dowry, the
+lady is to have a share of his inheritance."
+
+"Is she very ugly?" asked Loredan. "Poor Jacopo! You have the sympathy
+of the brethren."
+
+"How does he know?" sneered Mocenigo. "He has never seen her. Besides,
+why should he care, since she is rich?"
+
+"You are mistaken, for I have seen her," said Contarini, looking down
+the table. "She is not at all ill-looking, I assure you. The old man was
+so much afraid that I would not agree to the match that he took her to
+church so that I might look at her."
+
+"And you did?" asked Mocenigo. "I should never have had the courage. She
+might have been hideous, and in that case I should have preferred not to
+find it out till I was married."
+
+"I looked at her with some interest," said Contarini, smiling in a
+self-satisfied way. "I am bound to say, with all modesty, that she also
+looked at me," he added, passing his white hand over his thick hair.
+
+"Of course," put in Foscari gravely. "Any woman would, I should think."
+
+"I suppose so," answered Contarini complacently. "It is not my fault if
+they do."
+
+"Nor your misfortune," added Fosoari, with as much gravity as before.
+
+Zuan Venier had not joined in the banter, which seemed to him to be of
+the most atrocious taste. He had liked Zorzi and had just made up his
+mind to go to Murano the next day and find him out.
+
+On that evening there was not so much as a mention of what was supposed
+to bring them together. Before they had talked a quarter of an hour,
+some one began to throw dice on the table, playing with his right hand
+against his left, and in a few moments the real play had begun.
+
+High up in Arisa's room the Georgian woman and Aristarchi heard all that
+was said, crouching together upon the floor beside the opening the slave
+had discovered. When the voices were no longer heard except at rare
+intervals, in short exclamations of satisfaction or disappointment, and
+only the regular rattling and falling of the dice broke the silence, the
+pair drew back from the praying-stool.
+
+"They will say nothing more to-night," whispered Arisa. "They will play
+for hours."
+
+"They had not said a word that could put their necks in danger,"
+answered Aristarchi discontentedly. "Who is this fellow from the
+glass-house, of whom they were speaking?"
+
+Arisa led him away to a small divan between the open windows. She sat
+down against the cushions at the back, but he stretched his bulk upon
+the floor, resting his head against her knee. She softly rubbed his
+rough hair with the palm of her hand, as she might have caressed a cat,
+or a tame wild animal. It gave her a pleasant sensation that had a
+thrill of danger in it, for she always expected that he would turn and
+set his teeth into her fingers.
+
+She told him the story of the last meeting, and how Zorzi had been made
+one of the society in order that they might not feel obliged to kill him
+for their own safety.
+
+"What fools they are!" exclaimed Aristarchi with a low laugh, and
+turning his head under her hand.
+
+"You would have killed him, of course," said Arisa, "if you had been in
+their place. I suppose you have killed many people," she added
+thoughtfully.
+
+"No," he answered, for though he loved her savagely, he did not trust
+her. "I never killed any one except in fair fight."
+
+Arisa laughed low, for she remembered.
+
+"When I first saw you," she said, "your hands were covered with blood. I
+think the reason why I liked you was that you seemed so much more
+terrible than all the others who looked in at my cabin door."
+
+"I am as mild as milk and almonds," said Aristarchi. "I am as timid as a
+rabbit."
+
+His deep voice was like the purring of a huge cat. Arisa looked down at
+his head. Then her hands suddenly clasped his throat and she tried to
+make her fingers meet round it as if she would have strangled him, but
+it was too big for them. He drew in his chin a little, the iron muscles
+stiffened themselves, the cords stood out, and though she pressed with
+all her might she could not hurt him, even a little; but she loved to
+try.
+
+"I am sure I could strangle Contarini," she said quietly. "He has a
+throat like a woman's."
+
+"What a murderous creature you are!" purred the Greek, against hex knee.
+"You are always talking of killing."
+
+"I should like to see you fighting for your life," she answered, "or for
+me."
+
+"It is the same thing," he said.
+
+"I should like to see it. It would be a splendid sight."
+
+"What if I got the worst of it?" asked Aristarchi, his vast mouth
+grinning at the idea.
+
+"You?" Arisa laughed contemptuously. "The man is not born who could kill
+you. I am sure of it."
+
+"One very nearly succeeded, once upon a time," said Aristarchi.
+
+"One man? I do not believe it!"
+
+"He chanced to be an executioner," answered the Greek calmly, "and I had
+my hands tied behind me."
+
+"Tell me about it."
+
+Arisa bent down eagerly, for she loved to hear of his adventures, though
+he had his own way of narrating them which always made him out innocent
+of any evil intention.
+
+"There is nothing to tell. It was in Naples. A woman betrayed me and
+they bound me in my sleep. In the morning I was condemned to death,
+thrown into a cart and dragged off to be hanged. I thought it was all
+over, for the cords were new, so that I could not break them. I tried
+hard enough! But even if I had broken loose, I could never have fought
+my way through the crowd alone. The noose was around my neck."
+
+He stopped, as if he had told everything.
+
+"Go on!" said Arisa. "How did you escape? What an adventure!"
+
+"One of my men saved me. He had a little learning, and could pass for a
+monk when he could get a cowl. He went out before it was daylight that
+morning, and exchanged clothes with a burly friar whom he met in a quiet
+place."
+
+"But how did the friar agree to that?" asked Arisa in surprise.
+
+"He had nothing to say. He was dead," answered Aristarchi.
+
+"Do you mean to say that he chanced to find a dead friar lying in the
+road?" asked the Georgian.
+
+"How should I know? I daresay the monk was alive when he met my man, and
+happened to die a few minutes afterwards--by mere chance. It was very
+fortunate, was it not?"
+
+"Yes!" Arisa laughed softly. "But what did he do? Why did he take the
+trouble to dress the monk in his clothes?"
+
+"In order to receive his dying confession, of course. I thought you
+would understand! And his dying confession was that he, Michael Pandos,
+a Greek robber, had killed the man for whose murder I was being hanged
+that morning. My man came just in time, for as the friar's head was half
+shaved, as monks' heads are, he had to shave the rest, as they do for
+coolness in the south, and he had only his knife with which to do it.
+But no one found that out, for he had been a barber, as he had been a
+monk and most other things. He looked very well in a cowl, and spoke
+Neapolitan. I did not know him when he came to the foot of the gallows,
+howling out that I was innocent."
+
+"Were you?" asked Arisa.
+
+"Of course I was," answered Aristarchi with conviction.
+
+"Who was the man that had been killed?"
+
+"I forget his name," said the Greek. "He was a Neapolitan gentleman of
+great family, I believe. I forget the name. He had red hair."
+
+Arisa laughed and stroked Aristarchi's big head. She thought she had
+made him betray himself.
+
+"You had seen him then?" she said, with a question. "I suppose you
+happened to see him just before he died, as your man saw the monk."
+
+"Oh no!" answered Aristarchi, who was not to be so easily caught. "It
+was part of the dying confession. It was necessary to identify the
+murdered person. How should Michael Parados, the Greek robber, know the
+name of the gentleman he had killed? He gave a minute description of
+him. He said he had red hair."
+
+"You are not a Greek for nothing," laughed Arisa.
+
+"Did you ever hear of Odysseus?" asked Aristarchi.
+
+"No. What should I know of your Greek gods? If you were a good
+Christian, you would not speak of them."
+
+"Odysseus was not a god," answered Aristarchi, with a grin. "He was a
+good Christian. I have often thought that he must have been very like
+me. He was a great traveller and a tolerable sailor."
+
+"A pirate?" inquired Arisa.
+
+"Oh no! He was a man of the most noble and upright character, incapable
+of deception! In fact he was very like me, and had nearly as many
+adventures. If you understood Greek, I would repeat some verses I know
+about him."
+
+"Should you love me more, if I understood Greek?" asked Arisa softly.
+"If I thought so, I would learn it."
+
+Aristarchi laughed roughly, so that she was almost afraid lest he should
+be heard far down in the house.
+
+"Learn Greek? You? To make me like you better? You would be just as
+beautiful if you were altogether dumb! A man does not love a woman for
+what she can say to him, in any language."
+
+He turned up his face, and his rough hands drew her splendid head down
+to him, till he could kiss her. Then there was silence for a few
+minutes.
+
+He shook his great shoulders at last.
+
+"Everything else is a waste of time," he said, as if speaking to
+himself.
+
+Her head lay on the cushions now, and she watched him with half-closed
+eyes in the soft light, and now and then the thin embroideries that
+covered her neck and bosom rose and fell with a long, satisfied sigh. He
+rose to his feet and slowly paced the marble floor, up and down before
+her, as he would have paced the little poop-deck of his vessel.
+
+"I am glad you told me about that glass-blower," he said suddenly. "I
+have met him and talked with him, and I may meet him again. He is old
+Beroviero's chief assistant. I fancy he is in love with the daughter."
+
+"In love with the girl whom Contarini is to marry?" asked Arisa,
+suddenly opening her eyes.
+
+"Yes. I told you what I said to the old man in his private room--it was
+more like a brick-kiln than a rich man's counting-house! While I was
+inside, the young man was talking to the girl under a tree. I saw them
+through a low window as I sat discussing business with Beroviero."
+
+"You could not hear what they said, I suppose."
+
+"No. But I could see what they looked." Aristarchi laughed at his own
+conceit. "The girl was doing some kind of work. The young man stood
+beside her, resting one hand against the tree. I could not see his face
+all the time, but I saw hers. She is in love with him. They were talking
+earnestly and she said something that had a strong effect upon him, for
+I saw that he stood a long time looking at the trunk of the tree, and
+saying nothing. What can you make of that, except that they are in love
+with each other?"
+
+"That is strange," said Arisa, "for it was he that brought the message
+to Contarini, bidding him go and see her in Saint Mark's. That was how
+he chanced upon them, downstairs, at their last meeting."
+
+"How do you know it was that message, and not some other?"
+
+"Contarini told me."
+
+"But if the boy loves her, as I am sure he does, why should he have
+delivered the message?" asked; the cunning Greek. "It would have been
+very easy for him to have named another hour, and Contarini would never
+have seen her. Besides, he had a fine chance then to send the future
+husband to Paradise! He needed only to name a quiet street, instead of
+the Church, and to appoint the hour at dusk. One, two and three in the
+back, the body to the canal, and the marriage would have been broken
+off."
+
+"Perhaps he does not wish it broken off," suggested Arisa, taking an
+equally amiable but somewhat different point of view. "He cannot marry
+the girl, of course--but if she is once married and out of her father's
+house, it will be different."
+
+"That is an idea," assented Aristarchi. "Look at us two. It is very much
+the same position, and Contarini will be indifferent about her, which he
+is not, where you are concerned. Between the glass-blower and me, and
+his wife and you, he will not be a man to be envied. That is another
+reason for helping the marriage as much as we can."
+
+"What if the glass-blower makes her give him money?" asked the Georgian
+woman. "If she loves him she will give him everything she has, and he
+will take all he can get, of course."
+
+"Of course, if she had anything to give," said Aristarchi. "But she will
+only have what you allow Contarini to give her. The young man knows well
+enough that her dowry will all be paid to her husband on the day of the
+marriage. It does not matter, for if he is in love he will not care much
+about the money."
+
+"I hope he will be careful. Any one else may see him with her, as you
+did, and may warn old Contarini that his intended daughter-in-law is in
+love with a boy belonging to the glass-house. The marriage would be
+broken off at once if that happened."
+
+"That is true."
+
+So they talked together, judging Zorzi and Marietta according to their
+views of human nature, which they deduced chiefly from their experience
+of themselves. From time to time Arisa went and listened at the hole in
+the floor, and when she heard the guests beginning to take their leave
+she hid Aristarchi in the embrasure of a disused window that was
+concealed by a tapestry, and she went into the larger room and lay down
+among the cushions by the balcony. When Contarini came, a few minutes
+later, she seemed to have fallen asleep like a child, weary of waiting
+for him.
+
+So far both she and Aristarchi looked upon Zorzi, who did not know of
+their existence, with a friendly eye, but their knowledge of his love
+for Marietta was in reality one more danger in his path. If at any
+future moment he seemed about to endanger the success of their plans,
+the strong Greek would soon find an opportunity of sending him to
+another world, as he had sent many another innocent enemy before. They
+themselves were safe enough for the present, and it was not likely that
+they would commit any indiscretion that might endanger their future
+flight. They had long ago determined what to do if Contarini should
+accidentally find Aristarchi in the house. Long before his body was
+found, they would both be on the high seas; few persons knew of Arisa's
+existence, no one connected the Greek merchant captain in any way with
+Contarini, and no one guessed the sailing qualities of the unobtrusive
+vessel that lay in the Giudecca waiting for a cargo, but ballasted to do
+her best, and well stocked with provisions and water. The crew knew
+nothing, when other sailors asked when they were to sail; the men could
+only say that their captain was the owner of the vessel and was very
+hard to please in the matter of a cargo.
+
+In one way or another the two were sure of gaining their end, as soon as
+they should have amassed a sufficient fortune to live in luxury
+somewhere in the far south.
+
+A change in the situation was brought about by the appearance of Zuan
+Venier at the glass-house on the following morning. Indolent, tired of
+his existence, sick of what amused and interested his companions, but
+generous, true and kind-hearted, he had been sorry to hear that Zorzi
+had suffered by an accident, and he felt impelled to go and see whether
+the young fellow needed help. Venier did not remember that he had ever
+resisted an impulse in his life, though he took the greatest pains to
+hide the fact that he ever felt any. He perhaps did not realise that
+although he had done many foolish things, and some that a confessor
+would not have approved, he had never wished to do anything that was
+mean, or unkind, or that might give him an unfair advantage over others.
+
+He fancied Zorzi alone, uncared for, perhaps obliged to work in spite of
+his lameness, and it occurred to him that he might help him in some way,
+though it was by no means clear what direction his help should take. He
+did not know that Beroviero was absent, and he intended to call for the
+old glass-maker. It would be easy to say that he was an old friend of
+Jacopo Contarini and wished to make the acquaintance of Marietta's
+father before the wedding. He would probably have an opportunity of
+speaking to Zorzi without showing that he already knew him, and he
+trusted to Zorzi's discretion to conceal the fact, for he was a good
+judge of men.
+
+It turned out to be much easier to carry out his plan than he had
+expected.
+
+"My name is Zuan Venier," he said, in answer to Pasquale's gruff
+inquiry.
+
+Pasquale eyed him a moment through the bars, and immediately understood
+that he was not a person to be kicked into the canal or received with
+other similar amenities. The great name alone would have awed the old
+porter to something like civility, but he had seen the visitor's face,
+and being quite as good a judge of humanity as Venier himself, he opened
+the door at once.
+
+Venier explained that he wished to pay his respects to Messer Angelo
+Beroviero, being an old friend of Messer Jacopo Contarini. Learning that
+the master was absent on a journey, he asked whether there were any one
+within to whom he could deliver a message. He had heard, he said, that
+the master had a trusted assistant, a certain Zorzi. Pasquale answered
+that Zorzi was in the laboratory, and led the way.
+
+Zorzi was greatly surprised, but as Venier had anticipated, he said
+nothing before Pasquale which could show that he had met his visitor
+before. Venier made a courteous inclination of the head, and the porter
+disappeared immediately.
+
+"I heard that you had been hurt," said Venier, when they were alone. "I
+came to see whether I could do anything for you. Can I?"
+
+Zorzi was touched by the kind words, spoken so quietly and sincerely,
+for it was only lately that any one except Marietta had shown him a
+little consideration. He had not forgotten how his master had taken
+leave of him, and the unexpected friendliness of old Pasquale after his
+accident had made a difference in his life; but of all men he had ever
+met, Venier was the one whom he had instinctively desired for a friend.
+
+"Have you come over from Venice on purpose to see me?" he asked, in
+something like wonder.
+
+"Yes," answered Venier with a smile. "Why are you surprised?"
+
+"Because it is so good of you."
+
+"You have solemnly sworn to do as much for me, and for all the
+companions of our society," returned Venier, still smiling. "We are to
+help each other under all circumstances, as far as we can, you know. You
+are standing, and it must tire you, with those crutches. Shall we sit
+down? Tell me quite frankly, is there anything I can do for you?"
+
+"Nothing you could ever do could make me more grateful than I am to you
+for coming," answered Zorzi sincerely.
+
+Venier took the crutches from his hands and helped him to sit on the
+bench.
+
+"You are very kind," Zorzi said.
+
+Venier sat down beside him and asked him all manner of questions about
+his accident, and how it had happened. Zorzi had no reason for
+concealing the truth from him.
+
+"They all hate me here," he said. "It happened like an accident, but the
+man made it happen. I do not think that he intended to maim me for life,
+but he meant to hurt me badly, and he did. There was not a man or a boy
+in the furnace room who did not understand, for no workman ever yet let
+his blow-pipe slip from his hand in swinging a piece. But I do not wish
+to make matters worse, and I have said that I believed it was an
+accident."
+
+"I should like to come across the man who did it," said Venier, his eyes
+growing hard and steely.
+
+"When I tried to hop to the furnace on one leg to save myself from
+falling, one of the men cried out that I was a dancer, and laughed. I
+hear that the name has stuck to me among the workmen. I am called the
+'Ballarin.'"
+
+The ignoble meanness of Zorzi's tormentors roused Venier's generous
+blood.
+
+"You will yet be their master," he said. "You will some day have a
+furnace of your own, and they will fawn to you. Your nickname will be
+better than their names in a few years!"
+
+"I hope so," answered Zorzi.
+
+"I know it," said the other, with an energy that would have surprised
+those who only knew the listless young nobleman whom nothing could amuse
+or interest.
+
+He did not stay very long, and when he went away he said nothing about
+coming again. Zorzi went with him to the door. He had asked the
+Dalmatian to tell old Beroviero of his visit. Pasquale, who had never
+done such a thing in his life, actually went out upon the footway to the
+steps and steadied the gondola by the gunwale while Venier got in.
+
+Giovanni Beroviero saw Venier come out, for it was near noon, and he had
+just come back from his own glass-house and was standing in the shadow
+of his father's doorway, slowly fanning himself with his large cap
+before he went upstairs, for it had been very hot in the sun. He did not
+know Zuan Venier by sight, but there was no mistaking the Venetian's
+high station, and he was surprised to see that the nobleman was
+evidently on good terns with Zorzi.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+Zorzi had not left the glass-house since he had been hurt, but he
+foresaw that he might be obliged to leave the laboratory for an hour or
+more, now that he was better. He could walk, with one crutch and a
+stick, resting a little on the injured foot, and he felt sure that in a
+few days he should be able to walk with the stick alone. He had the
+certainty that he was lame for life, and now and then, when it was dusk
+and he sat under the plane-tree, meditating upon the uncertain future,
+he felt a keen pang at the thought that he might never again walk
+without limping; for he had been light and agile, and very swift of foot
+as a boy.
+
+He fancied that Marietta would pity him, but not as she had pitied him
+at first. There would be a little feeling of repulsion for the cripple,
+mixed with her compassion for the man. It was true that, as matters were
+going now, he might not see her often again, and he was quite sure that
+he had no right to think of loving her. Zuan Venier's visit had recalled
+very clearly the obligations by which he had solemnly bound himself, and
+which he honestly meant to fulfil; and apart from them, when he tried to
+reason about his love, he could make it seem absurd enough that he
+should dream of winning Marietta for his wife.
+
+But love itself does not argue. At first it is seen far off, like a
+beautiful bird of rare plumage, among flowers, on a morning in spring;
+it comes nearer, it is timid, it advances, it recedes, it poises on
+swiftly beating wings, it soars out of sight, but suddenly it is nearer
+than before; it changes shapes, and grows vast and terrible, till its
+flight is like the rushing of the whirlwind; then all is calm again, and
+in the stillness a sweet voice sings the chant of peace or the
+melancholy dirge of an endless regret; it is no longer the dove, nor the
+eagle, nor the storm that leaves ruin in its track--it is everything, it
+is life, it is the world itself, for ever and time without end, for good
+or evil, for such happiness as may pass all understanding, if God will,
+and if not, for undying sorrow.
+
+Zorzi had forgotten his small resentment against Marietta, for not
+having given him a sign nor sent one word of greeting. He knew only that
+he loved her with all his heart and would give every hope he had for the
+pressure of her hand in his and the sound of her answering voice; and he
+dreaded lest she should pity him, as one pities a hurt creature that one
+would rather not touch.
+
+It would not be in the hope of seeing her that he might leave the
+laboratory before long. He felt quite sure that Giovanni would make some
+further attempt to get possession of the little book that meant fortune
+to him who should possess it; and Giovanni evidently knew where it was.
+It would he easy for him to send Zorzi on an errand of importance, as
+soon as he should be so far recovered as to walk a little. The great
+glass-houses had dealings with the banks in Venice and with merchants of
+all countries, and Beroviero had more than once sent Zorzi to Venice on
+business of moment. Giovanni would come in some morning and declare that
+he could trust no one but Zorzi to collect certain sums of money in the
+city, and he would take care that the matter should keep him absent
+several hours. That would be ample time in which to try the flagstones
+with a hammer and to turn over the right one. Zorzi had convinced
+himself that it gave a hollow sound when he tapped it and that Giovanni
+could find it easily enough.
+
+It was therefore folly to leave the box in its present place any longer,
+and he cast about in his mind for some safer spot in which to hide it.
+In the meantime, fearing lest Giovanni might think of sending him out at
+any moment, he waited till Pasquale had brought him water in the
+morning, and then raised the stone, as he had done before, took the box
+out of the earth and hid it in the cool end of the annealing oven, while
+he replaced the slab. The effort it cost him to move the latter told him
+plainly enough that his injury had weakened him almost as an illness
+might have done, but he succeeded in getting the stone into its bed at
+last. He tapped it with the end of his crutch as he knelt on the floor,
+and the sound it gave was even more hollow than before. He smiled as he
+thought how easily Giovanni would find the place, and how grievously
+disappointed he would be when he realised that it was empty.
+
+It occurred at once to Zorzi that Giovanni's first impression would
+naturally be that Zorzi had taken the book himself in order to use it
+during the master's absence; and this thought perplexed him for a time,
+until he reflected that Giovanni could not accuse him of the deed
+without accusing himself of having searched for the box, a proceeding
+which his father would never forgive. Zorzi did not intend to tell the
+master of his conversation with Giovanni, nor of his suspicions. He
+would only say that the hiding-place had not seemed safe enough, because
+the stone gave a hollow sound which even the boys would notice if
+anything fell upon it.
+
+But for Nella, it would be safest to give the box into Marietta's
+keeping, since no one could possibly suspect that it could have found
+its way to her room. At the mere thought, his heart beat fast. It would
+be a reason for seeing her alone, if he could, and for talking with her.
+He planned how he would send her a message by Nella, begging that he
+might speak to her on some urgent business of her father's, and she
+would come as she had come before; they would talk in the garden, under
+the plane-tree, where Pasquale and Nella could see them, and he would
+explain what he wanted. Then he would give her the box. He thought of it
+with calm delight, as he saw it all in a beautiful vision.
+
+But there was Nella, and there was Pasquale, the former indiscreet, the
+latter silent but keen-sighted, and quick-witted in spite of his slow
+and surly ways. Every one knew that the book existed somewhere, and the
+porter and the serving-woman would guess the truth at once. At present
+no one but himself knew positively where the thing was. If he carried
+out his plan, three other persons would possess the knowledge. It was
+not to be thought of.
+
+He looked about the laboratory. There were the beams and crossbeams, and
+the box would probably just fit into one of the shadowy interstices
+between two of the latter. But they were twenty feet from the ground, he
+had no ladder, and if there had been one at hand he could not have
+mounted it yet. His eye fell on the big earthen jar, more than half a
+man's height and as big round as a hogshead, half full of broken glass
+from the experiments. No one would think of it as a place for hiding
+anything, and it would not be emptied till it was quite full, several
+months hence. Besides, no one would dare to empty it without Beroviero's
+orders, as it contained nothing but fine red glass, which was valuable
+and only needed melting to be used at once.
+
+It was not an easy matter to take out half the contents, and he was in
+constant danger of interruption. At night it would have been impossible
+owing to the presence of the boys. If Pasquale appeared and saw a heap
+of broken glass on the floor, he would surely suspect something. Zorzi
+calculated that it would take two hours to remove the fragments with the
+care necessary to avoid cutting his hands badly, and to put them back
+again, for the shape of the jar would not admit of his employing even
+one of the small iron shovels used for filling the crucibles.
+
+With considerable difficulty he moved a large chest, that contained
+sifted white sand, out of the dark corner in which it stood and placed
+it diagonally so as to leave a triangular space behind it. To guard
+against the sound of the broken glass being heard from without, he shut
+the window, in spite of the heat, and having arranged in the corner one
+of the sacks used for bringing the cakes of kelp-ashes from Egypt, he
+began to fill it with the broken glass he brought from the jar in a
+bucket. When he judged that he had taken out more than half the
+contents, he took the iron box from the annealing oven. It was hard to
+carry it under the arm by which he walked with a stick, the other hand
+being necessary to move the crutch, and as he reached the jar he felt
+that it was slipping. He bent forward and it fell with a crash, bedding
+itself in the smashed glass. Zorzi drew a long breath of satisfaction,
+for the hardest part of the work was done.
+
+He tried to heave up the sack from the corner, but it was far too heavy,
+and he was obliged to bring back more than half of what it held by
+bucketfuls, before he was able to bring the rest, dragging it after him
+across the floor. It was finished at last, he had shaken out the sack
+carefully over the jar's mouth, and he had moved the sand-chest back to
+its original position. No one would have imagined that the broken glass
+had been removed and put back again. The box was safely hidden now.
+
+He was utterly exhausted when he dropped into the big chair, after
+washing the dust and blood from his hands--for it had been impossible to
+do what he had done without getting a few scratches, though none of them
+could have been called a cut. He sat quite still and closed his eyes.
+The box was safe now. It was not to be imagined that any one should ever
+suspect where it was, and on that point he was well satisfied. His only
+possible cause of anxiety now might be that if anything should happen to
+him, the master would be in ignorance of what he had done. But he saw no
+reason to expect anything so serious and his mind was at rest about a
+matter which had much disturbed him ever since Giovanni's visit.
+
+The plan which he had attributed to the latter was not, however, the one
+which suggested itself to the younger Beroviero's mind. It would have
+been easy to carry out, and was very simple, and for that very reason
+Giovanni did not think of it. Besides, in his estimation it would be
+better to act in such a way as to get rid of Zorzi for ever, if that
+were possible.
+
+On the Saturday night after Zorzi had hidden the box in the jar, the
+workmen cleared away the litter in the main furnace rooms and the order
+was given to let the fires go out. Zorzi sent word to the night boys who
+tended the fire in the laboratory that they were to come as usual. They
+appeared punctually, and to his surprise made no objection to working,
+though he had expected that they would complain of the heat and allege
+that their fathers would not let them go on any longer. On Sunday,
+according to the old rule of the house, no work was done, and Zorzi kept
+up the fire himself, spending most of the long day in the garden. On
+Sunday night the boys came again and went to work without a word, and in
+the morning they left the usual supply of chopped billets piled up and
+ready for use. Zorzi had rested himself thoroughly and went back to his
+experiments on that Monday with fresh energy.
+
+The very first test he took of the glass that had been fusing since
+Saturday night was successful beyond his highest expectations. He had
+grown reckless after having spoiled the original mixtures by adding the
+copper in the hope of getting more of the wonderful red, and carried
+away by the love of the art and by the certainty of ultimate success
+which every man of genius feels almost from boyhood, he had deliberately
+attempted to produce the white glass for which Beroviero was famous. He
+followed a theory of his own in doing so, for although he was tolerably
+sure of the nature of the ingredients, as was every workman in the
+house, neither he nor they knew anything of the proportions in which
+Beroviero mixed the substances, and every glass-maker knows by
+experience that those proportions constitute by far the most important
+element of success.
+
+Zorzi had not poured out the specimen on the table as he had done when
+the glass was coloured; on the contrary he had taken some on the
+blow-pipe and had begun to work with it at once, for the three great
+requisites were transparency, ductility, and lightness. In a few minutes
+he had convinced himself that his glass possessed all these qualities in
+an even higher degree than the master's own, and that was immeasurably
+superior to anything which the latter's own sons or any other
+glass-maker could produce. Zorzi had taken very little at first, and he
+made of it a thin phial of graceful shape, turned the mouth outward, and
+dropped the little vessel into the bed of ashes. He would have set it in
+the annealing oven, but he wished to try the weight of it, and he let it
+cool. Taking it up when he could touch it safely, it felt in his hand
+like a thing of air. On the shelf was another nearly like it in size,
+which he had made long ago with Beroviero's glass. There were scales on
+the table; he laid one phial in each, and the old one was by far the
+heavier. He had to put a number of pennyweights into the scale with his
+own before the two were balanced.
+
+His heart almost stood still, and he could not believe his good fortune.
+He took the sheet of rough paper on which he had written down the
+precise contents of the three crucibles, and he carefully went over the
+proportions of the ingredients in the one from which he had just taken
+his specimen. He made a strong effort of memory, trying to recall
+whether he had been careless and inexact in weighing any of the
+materials, but he knew that he had been most precise. He had also noted
+the hour at which he had put the mixture into the crucible on Saturday,
+and he now glanced at the sand-glass and made another note. But he did
+not lay the paper upon the table, where it had been lying for two days,
+kept in place by a little glass weight. It had become his most precious
+possession; what was written on it meant a fortune as soon as he could
+get a furnace to himself; it was his own, and not the master's; it was
+wealth, it might even be fame. Beroviero might call him to account for
+misusing the furnace, but that was no capital offence after all, and it
+was more than paid for by the single crucible of magnificent red glass.
+Zorzi was attempting to reproduce that too, for he had the master's
+notes of what the pot had contained, and it was almost ready to be
+tried; he even had the piece of copper carefully weighed to be equal in
+bulk with the ladle that had been melted. If he succeeded there also,
+that was a new secret for Beroviero, but the other was for himself.
+
+All that morning he revelled in the delight of working with the new
+glass. A marvellous dish with upturned edge and ornamented foot was the
+next thing he made, and he placed it at once in the annealing oven. Then
+he made a tall drinking glass such as he had never made before, and
+then, in contrast, a tiny ampulla, so small that he could almost hide it
+in his hand, with its spout, yet decorated with all the perfection of a
+larger piece. He worked on, careless of the time, his genius all alive,
+the rest a distant dream.
+
+He was putting the finishing touches to a beaker of a new shape when
+the door opened, and Giovanni entered the laboratory. Zorzi was seated
+on the working stool, the pontil in one hand, the 'porcello' in the
+other. He glanced at Giovanni absently and went on, for it was the last
+touch and the glass was cooling quickly.
+
+"Still working, in this heat?" asked Giovanni, fanning himself with his
+cap as was his custom.
+
+There was a moment's silence. Then a sharp clicking sound and the beaker
+fell finished into the soft ashes.
+
+"Yes, I am still at work, as you see," answered Zorzi, not realising
+that Giovanni would particularly notice what he was doing.
+
+He rose with some difficulty and got his crutch under one arm. With a
+forked stick he took the beaker from the ashes and placed it in the
+annealing oven. Giovanni watched him, and when the broad iron door was
+open, he saw the other pieces already standing inside on the iron tray.
+
+"Admirable!" cried Giovanni. "You are a great artist, my dear Zorzi!
+There is no one like you!"
+
+"I do what I can," answered Zorzi, closing the door quickly, lest the
+hot end of the oven should cool at all.
+
+"I should say that you do what no one else can," returned Giovanni. "But
+how lame you are! I had expected to find you walking as well as ever by
+this time."
+
+"I shall never walk again without limping."
+
+"Oh, take courage!" said Giovanni, who seemed determined to be both
+cheerful and flattering. "You will soon be as light on your feet as
+ever. But it was a shocking accident."
+
+He sat down in the big chair and Zorzi took the small one by the table,
+wishing that he would go away.
+
+"It is a pity that you had no white glass in the furnace on that
+particular day," Giovanni continued. "You said you had none, if I
+remember. How is it that you have it now? Have you changed one of the
+crucibles?"
+
+"Yes. One of the experiments succeeded so well that it seemed better to
+take out all the glass."
+
+"May I see a piece of it?" inquired Giovanni, as if he were asking a
+great favour.
+
+It was one thing to let him test the glass himself, it was quite another
+to show him a piece of it. He would see it sooner or later, and he could
+guess nothing of its composition.
+
+"The specimen is there, on the table," Zorzi answered.
+
+Giovanni rose at once and took the piece from the paper on which it lay,
+and held it up against the light. He was amazed at the richness of the
+colour, and gave vent to all sorts of exclamations.
+
+"Did you make this?" he asked at last.
+
+"It is the result of the master's experiments."
+
+"It is marvellous! He has made another fortune."
+
+Giovanni replaced the specimen where it had lain, and as he did so, his
+eye fell on the phial Zorzi had made that morning. Zorzi had not put it
+into the annealing oven because it had been allowed to get quite cold,
+so that the annealing would have been imperfect. Giovanni took it up,
+and uttered a low exclamation of surprise at its lightness. He held it
+up and looked through it, and then he took it by the neck and tapped it
+sharply with his finger-nail.
+
+"Take care," said Zorzi; "it is not annealed. It may fly."
+
+"Oh!" exclaimed Giovanni. "Have you just made it?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"It is the finest glass I ever saw. It is much better than what they had
+in the main furnaces the day you were hurt. Did you not find it so
+yourself, in working with it?"
+
+Zorzi began to feel anxious as to the result of so much questioning.
+Whatever happened he must hide from Giovanni the fact that he had
+discovered a new glass of his own.
+
+"Yes," he answered, with affected indifference. "I thought it was
+unusually good. I daresay there may be some slight difference in the
+proportions."
+
+"Do you mean to say that my father does not follow any exact rule?"
+
+"Oh yes. But he is always making experiments."
+
+"He mixes all the materials for the main furnaces himself, does he not?"
+inquired Giovanni.
+
+"Yes. He does it alone, in the room that is kept locked. When he has
+finished, the men come and carry out the barrows. The materials are
+stirred and mixed together outside."
+
+"Yes. I do it in the same way myself. Have you ever helped my father in
+that work?"
+
+"No, certainly not. If I had helped him once, I should know the secret."
+Zorzi smiled.
+
+"But if you do not know the secret," said Giovanni unexpectedly, "how
+did you make this glass?"
+
+He held up the phial.
+
+"Why do you suppose that I made it?" Zorzi felt himself growing pale.
+"The master has supplies of everything here in the laboratory and in the
+little room where I sleep."
+
+"Is there white glass here too?"
+
+"Of course!" answered Zorzi readily. "There is half a jar of it in my
+room. We keep it there so that the night boys may not steal it a little
+at a time."
+
+"I see," answered Giovanni. "That is very sensible."
+
+He was firmly convinced that if he asked Zorzi any more direct question,
+the answer would be a falsehood, and he applauded himself for stopping
+at the point he had reached in his inquiries. For he was an experienced
+glass-maker and was perfectly sure that the phial was not made from
+Beroviero's ordinary glass. It followed that Zorzi had used the precious
+book, and Giovanni inferred that the rest was a lucky accident.
+
+"Will you sell me one of those beautiful things you have in the oven?"
+Giovanni asked, in an insinuating tone.
+
+Zorzi hesitated. The master had often paid him a fair price for objects
+he had made, and which were used in Beroviero's house, as has been told.
+Zorzi did not wish to irritate Giovanni by refusing, and after all,
+there was no great difference between being paid by old Beroviero or by
+his son. The fact that he worked in glass, which had been an open secret
+among the workmen for a long time, was now no secret at all. The
+question was rather as to his right, being Beroviero's trusted
+assistant, to sell anything out of the house.
+
+"Will you?" asked Giovanni, after waiting a few moments for an answer.
+
+"I would rather wait until the master comes back," said Zorzi
+doubtfully. "I am not quite sure about it."
+
+"I will take all the responsibility," Giovanni answered cheerfully. "Am
+I not free to come to my father's glass-house and buy a beaker or a dish
+for myself, if I please? Of course I am. But there is no real difference
+between buying from you, on one side of the garden, or from the furnace
+on the other. Is there?"
+
+"The difference is that in the one case you buy from the master and pay
+him, but now you are offering to pay me, who am already well paid by him
+for any work I may do."
+
+"You are very scrupulous," said Giovanni in a disappointed tone. "Tell
+me, does my father never give you anything for the things you make, and
+which you say are in the house?"
+
+"Oh yes," answered Zorzi promptly. "He always pays me for them."
+
+"But that shows that he does not consider them as part of the work you
+are regularly paid to do, does it not?"
+
+"I suppose so," Zorzi said, turning over the question in his mind.
+
+Giovanni took a small piece of gold from the purse he carried at his
+belt, and he laid it on the flat arm of the chair beside him, and put
+down one of his crooked forefingers upon it.
+
+"I cannot see what objection you can have, in that case. You know very
+well that young painters who work for masters help them, but are always
+allowed to sell anything they can paint in their leisure time."
+
+"Yes. That is true. I will take the money, sir, and you may choose any
+of the pieces you like. When the master comes, I will tell him, and if I
+have no right to the price he shall keep it himself."
+
+"Do you really suppose that my father would be mean enough to take the
+money?" asked Giovanni, who would certainly have taken it himself under
+the circumstances.
+
+"No. He is very generous. Nevertheless, I shall certainly tell him the
+whole story."
+
+"That is your affair. I have nothing to say about it. Here is the money,
+for which I will take the beaker I saw you finishing when I came in. Is
+it enough? Is it a fair price?"
+
+"It is a very good price," Zorzi answered. "But there may be a piece
+among those in the oven which you will like better. Will you not come
+to-morrow, when they are all annealed, and make your choice?"
+
+"No. I have fallen in love with the piece I saw you making."
+
+"Very well. You shall have it, and many thanks."
+
+"Here is the money, and thanks to you," said Giovanni, holding out the
+little piece of gold.
+
+"You shall pay me when you take the beaker," objected Zorzi. "It may
+fly, or turn out badly."
+
+"No, no!" answered Giovanni, rising, and putting the money into Zorzi's
+hand. "If anything happens to it, I will take another. I am afraid that
+you may change your mind, you see, and I am very anxious to have such a
+beautiful thing."
+
+He laughed cheerfully, nodded to Zorzi and went out at once, almost
+before the latter had time to rise from his seat and get his crutch
+under his arm.
+
+When he was alone, Zorzi looked at the coin and laid it on the table. He
+was much puzzled by Giovanni's conduct, but at the same time his
+artist's vanity was flattered by what had happened. Giovanni's
+admiration of the glass was genuine; there could be no doubt of that,
+and he was a good judge. As for the work, Zorzi knew quite well that
+there was not a glass-blower in Murano who could approach him either in
+taste or skill. Old Beroviero had told him so within the last few
+months, and he felt that it was true.
+
+He would have been neither a natural man nor a born artist if he had
+refused to sell the beaker, out of an exaggerated scruple. But the
+transaction had shown him that his only chance of success for the future
+lay in frankly telling old Beroviero what he had done in his absence,
+while reserving his secret for himself. The master was proud of him as
+his pupil, and sincerely attached to him as a man, and would certainly
+not try to force him into explaining how the glass was made. Besides,
+the glass itself was there, easily distinguished from any other, and
+Zorzi could neither hide it nor throw it away.
+
+Giovanni went out upon the footway, and as he passed, Pasquale thought
+he had never seen him so cheerful. The sour look had gone out of his
+face, and he was actually smiling to himself. With such a man it would
+hardly have been possible to attribute his pleased expression to the
+satisfaction he felt in having bought Zorzi's beaker. He had never
+before, in his whole life, parted with a piece of gold without a little
+pang of regret; but he had felt the most keen and genuine pleasure just
+now, when Zorzi had at last accepted the coin.
+
+Pasquale watched him cross the wooden bridge and go into his father's
+house opposite. Then the old porter shut the door and went back to the
+laboratory, walking slowly with his ugly head bent a little, as if in
+deep thought. Zorzi had already resumed his occupation and had a lump of
+hot glass swinging on his blow-pipe, his crutch being under his right
+arm.
+
+"Half a rainbow to windward," observed the old sailor. "There will be a
+squall before long."
+
+"What do you mean?" asked Zorzi.
+
+"If you had seen the Signor Giovanni smile, as he went out, you would
+know what I mean," answered Pasquale. "In our seas, when we see the
+stump of a rainbow low down in the clouds, we say it is the eye of the
+wind, looking out for us, and I can tell you that the wind is never long
+in coming!"
+
+"Did you say anything to make him smile?" asked Zorzi, going on with his
+work.
+
+"I am not a mountebank," growled the porter. "I am not a strolling
+player at the door of his booth at a fair, cracking jokes with those who
+pass! But perhaps it was you who said something amusing to him, just
+before he left? Who knows? I always took you for a grave young man. It
+seems that I was mistaken. You make jokes. You cause a serious person
+like the Signor Giovanni to die of laughing."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+Giovanni sat in his father's own room at home, with shut doors, and he
+was writing. He had received as good an education as any young nobleman
+or rich merchant's son in Venice, but writing was always irksome to him,
+and he generally employed a scribe rather than take the pen himself.
+To-day he preferred to dispense with help, instead of trusting the
+discretion of a secretary; and this is what he was setting down.
+
+"I, Giovanni Beroviero, the son of Angelo, of Murano, the glass-maker,
+being in my father's absence and in his stead the Master of our
+honourable Guild of Glass-makers, do entreat your Magnificence to
+interfere and act for the preservation of our ancient rights and
+privileges and for the maintenance of the just laws of Venice, and for
+the honour of the Republic, and for the public good of Murano. There is
+a certain Zorzi, called the Ballarin, who was a servant of the aforesaid
+Angelo Beroviero, a Dalmatian and a foreigner and a fellow of no worth,
+who formerly swept the floor of the said Angelo's furnace room, which
+the said Angelo keeps for his private use. This fellow therefore, this
+foreigner, the said Angelo being absent on a long journey, was left by
+him to watch the fire in the said room, there being certain new glass
+in the crucibles of the said furnace, which the said Zorzi, called the
+Ballarin, was to keep hot a certain number of days. And now in the
+torrid heat of summer, the canicular days being at hand, the furnaces in
+the glass-house of the said Angelo have been extinguished. But this
+Zorzi, called the Ballarin, although he has removed from the furnace of
+the said Angelo the glass which was to be kept hot, does insolently and
+defiantly refuse to put out the fire in the said furnace, and forces the
+boys to make the fire all night, to the great injury of their health,
+because the canicular days are approaching. But the said Zorzi, called
+the Ballarin, like a raging devil come upon earth from his master Satan,
+heeds no heat. And he has no respect of laws, nor of persons, nor of the
+honourable Guild, nor of the Republic, working day and night at the
+glass-blower's art, just as if he were not a Dalmatian, and a foreigner,
+and a low fellow of no worth. Moreover, he has made glass himself, which
+it is forbidden for any foreigner to make throughout the dominions of
+the Republic. Moreover, it is a good white glass, which he could not
+have made if he had not wickedly, secretly and feloniously stolen a book
+which is the property of the aforesaid Angelo, and which contains many
+things concerning the making of glass. Moreover, this Zorzi, called the
+Ballarin, is a liar, a thief and an assassin, for of the good white
+glass which he has melted by means of the said Angelo's secrets, he
+makes vessels, such as phials, ampullas and dishes, which it is not
+lawful for any foreigner to make. Moreover, in the vile wickedness of
+his shameless heart, the said Zorzi, called the Ballarin, has the
+presumption and effrontery to sell the said vessels, openly admitting
+that he has made them. And they are well made, with diabolical skill,
+and the sale of the said vessels is a great injury to the glass-blowers
+of Murano, and to the honourable Guild, besides being an affront to the
+Republic. I, the aforesaid Giovanni, was indeed unable to believe that
+such monstrous wickedness could exist. I therefore went into the furnace
+room myself, and there I found the said Zorzi, called the Ballarin,
+working alone and making a certain piece in the form of a beaker. And
+though he knows me, that I am the son of his master, he is so lost to
+all shame, that he continued to work before me, as if he were a
+glass-blower, and though I fanned myself in order not to die of heat, he
+worked before the fire, and felt nothing, raging like a devil. I
+therefore offered to buy the beaker he was making and I put down a piece
+of money, and the said Zorzi, called the Ballarin, a liar, a thief and
+an assassin, took the said piece of money, and set the said beaker
+within the annealing oven of the said furnace, wherein I saw many other
+pieces of fine workmanship, and he said that I should have the said
+beaker when it was annealed. Wherefore I, being for the time the Master
+of the honourable Guild in the stead of the said Angelo, entreat your
+Magnificence on behalf of the said Guild to interfere and act for the
+preservation of our ancient rights and privileges, and for the honour of
+the Republic. Moreover, I entreat your Magnificence to send a force by
+night, in order that there may be no scandal, to take the said Zorzi,
+called the Ballarin, and to bind him, and carry him to Venice, that he
+may be tried for his monstrous crimes, and be questioned, even with
+torture, as to others which he has certainly committed, and be exiled
+from all the dominions of the Republic for ever on pain of being hanged,
+that in this way our laws may be maintained and our privileges
+preserved. Moreover, I will give any further information of the same
+kind which your Magnificence may desire. At Murano, in the house of
+Angelo Beroviero, my father, this third day of July, in the year of the
+Salvation of the World fourteen hundred and seventy, Giovanni Beroviero,
+the glass-maker."
+
+Giovanni had taken a long time in the composition of this remarkable
+document. He sat in his linen shirt and black hose, but he had paused
+often to fan himself with a sheet of paper, and to wipe the perspiration
+from his forehead, for although he was a lean man he suffered much from
+the heat, owing to a weakness of his heart.
+
+He folded the two sheets of his letter and tied them with a silk string,
+of which he squeezed the knot into pasty red wax, which he worked with
+his fingers, and upon this he pressed the iron seal of the guild, using
+both his hands and standing up in order to add his weight to the
+pressure. The missive was destined for the Podesta of Murano, which is
+to say, for the Governor, who was a patrician of Venice and a most high
+and mighty personage. Giovanni did not mean to trust to any messenger.
+That very afternoon, when he had slept after dinner, and the sun was
+low, he would have himself rowed to the Governor's house, and he would
+deliver the letter himself, or if possible he would see the dignitary
+and explain even more fully that Zorzi, called the Ballarin, was a liar,
+a thief and an assassin. He felt a good deal of pride in what he had
+written so carefully, and he was sure that his case was strong. In
+another day or two, Zorzi would be gone for ever from Murano, Giovanni
+would have the precious manuscript in his possession, and when old
+Beroviero returned Giovanni would use the book as a weapon against his
+father, who would be furiously angry to find his favourite assistant
+gone. It was all very well planned, he thought, and was sure to succeed.
+He would even take possession of the beautiful red glass, and of the
+still more wonderful white glass which Zorzi had made for himself. By
+the help of the book, he should soon be able to produce the same in his
+own furnaces. The vision of a golden future opened before him. He would
+outdo all the other glass-makers in every market, from Paris to Palermo,
+from distant England to Egyptian Alexandria, wheresoever the vast trade
+of Venice carried those huge bales of delicate glass, carefully packed
+in the dried seaweed of the lagoons. Gold would follow gold, and his
+wealth would increase, till it became greater than that of any patrician
+in Venice. Who could tell but that, in time, the great exception might
+be made for him, and he might be admitted to sit in the Grand Council,
+he and his heirs for ever, just as if he had been born a real patrician
+and not merely a member of the half-noble caste of glass-blowers? Such
+things were surely possible.
+
+In the cooler hours of the afternoon he got into his father's gondola,
+for he was far too economical to keep one of his own, and he had himself
+rowed to the house of the Governor, on the Grand Canal of Murano. But at
+the door he was told that the official was in Venice and would not
+return till the following day. The liveried porter was not sure where he
+might be found, but he often went to the palace of the Contarini, who
+were his near relations. The Signor Giovanni, to whom the porter was
+monstrously civil, might give himself the fatigue of being taken there
+in his gondola. In any case it would be easy to find the Governor. He
+would perhaps be on the Grand Canal in Venice at the hour when all the
+patricians were taking the air. It was very probable indeed.
+
+The porter bowed low as the gondola pushed off, and Giovanni leaned back
+in the comfortable seat, to repeat again and again in his mind what he
+meant to say if he succeeded in speaking with the Governor. He had his
+letter of complaint safe in his wallet, and he could remember every word
+he had written. In order to go to Venice, the nearest way was to return
+from the Grand Canal of Murano by the canal of San Piero, and to pass
+the glass-house. The door was shut as usual, and Giovanni smiled as he
+thought of how the city archers would go in, perhaps that very night,
+to take Zorzi away. He would not be with them, but when they were gone,
+he would go and find the book under one of the stones. When he had got
+it, his father might come home, for all Giovanni cared.
+
+Before long the gondola was winding its way through the narrow canals,
+now shooting swiftly along a short straight stretch, between a monastery
+and a palace, now brought to by a turn of the hand at a corner, as the
+man at the oar shouted out a direction meant for whoever might be
+coming, by the right or left, as one should say "starboard helm" or
+"port helm," and both doing the same, two vessels pass clear of one
+another; and to this day the gondoliers of Venice use the old words, and
+tell long-winded stories of their derivation and first meaning, which
+seem quite unnecessary. But in Beroviero's time, the gondola had only
+lately come into fashion, and every one adopted it quickly because it
+was much cheaper than keeping horses, and it was far more pleasant to be
+taken quickly by water, by shorter ways, than to ride in the narrow
+streets, in the mud in winter and in the dust in summer, jostling those
+who walked, and sometimes quarrelling with those who rode, because the
+way was too narrow for one horse to pass another, when both had riders
+on their backs. Moreover, it was law that after nine o'clock in the
+morning no man who had reached the fig-tree that grew in the open space
+before San Salvatore, should ride to Saint Mark's by the Merceria, so
+that people had to walk the rest of the way, leaving their horses to
+grooms. The gondola was therefore a great convenience, besides being a
+notable economy, and old Francesco Sansovino says that in his day, which
+was within a lifetime of Angelo Beroviero's, there were nine or ten
+thousand gondolas in Venice. But at first they had not the high peaked
+stem of iron, and stem and stern were made almost alike, as in the
+Venetian boats and skiffs of our own time.
+
+Giovanni got out at the steps of the Contarini palace, which, of the
+many that even then belonged to different branches of that great house,
+was distinguished above all others by its marvellous outer winding
+staircase, which still stands in all its beauty and slender grace. But
+near the great palace there were little wooden houses of two stories,
+some new and straight and gaily painted, but some old and crooked,
+hanging over the canals so that they seemed ready to topple down, with
+crazy outer balconies half closed in by lattices behind which the women
+sat for coolness, and sometimes even slept in the hot months. For the
+great city of stone and brick was not half built yet, and the space
+before Saint Mark's was much larger than it is now, for the Procuratie
+did not yet exist, nor the clock, but the great bell-tower stood almost
+in the middle of an open square, and there were little wooden booths at
+its base, in which all sorts of cheap trinkets were sold. There were
+also such booths and small shops at the base of the two columns. Also,
+the bridge of Rialto was a broad bridge of boats, on which shops were
+built on each side of the way, and the middle of the bridge could be
+drawn out, for the great Bucentoro to pass through, when the Doge went
+out in state to wed the sea.
+
+Giovanni Beroviero was well known to Contarini's household, for all knew
+of the approaching marriage, and the servants were not surprised when he
+inquired for the Governor of Murano, saying that his business was
+urgent. But the Governor was not there, nor the master of the house.
+They were gone to the Grand Canal. Would the Signor Giovanni like to
+speak with Messer Jacopo, who chanced to be in the palace and alone? It
+was still early, and Giovanni thought that the opportunity was a good
+one for ingratiating himself with his future brother-in-law. He would go
+in, if he should not disturb Messer Jacopo. He was announced and ushered
+respectfully into the great hall, and thence up the broad staircase to
+the hall of reception above. And below, his gondoliers gossiped with the
+servants, talking about the coming marriage, and many indiscreet things
+were said, which it was better that their masters should not hear; as
+for instance that Jacopo was really living in the house of the Agnus
+Dei, where he kept a beautiful Georgian slave in unheard-of luxury, and
+that this was a great grief to his father, who was therefore very
+desirous of hastening the marriage with Marietta. The porter winked one
+eye solemnly at the head gondolier, as who should imply that the
+establishment at the Agnus Dei would not be given up for twenty
+marriages; but the gondolier said boldly that if Jacopo did not change
+his life after he had married Marietta, something would happen to him.
+Upon this the porter inquired superciliously what, in the name of a
+great many beings, celestial and infernal, could possibly happen to any
+Contarini who chose to do as he pleased. The gondolier answered that
+there were laws, the porter retorted that the laws were made for
+glass-blowers but not for patricians, and the two might have come to
+blows if they had not just then heard their masters' voices from the
+landing of the great staircase; and of coarse it was far more important
+to overhear all they could of the conversation than to quarrel about a
+point of law.
+
+Giovanni was too full of his plan for Zorzi's destruction to resist the
+temptation of laying the whole case before Contarini, who was so soon to
+be a member of the family, and as Jacopo, who was himself going out,
+accompanied his guest downstairs, Giovanni continued to talk of the
+matter earnestly, and Contarini answered him by occasional monosyllables
+and short sentences, much interested by the whole affair, but wishing
+that Giovanni would go away, now that he had told all. He was in
+constant fear lest Zorzi should say something which might betray the
+meetings at the house of the Agnus Dei, and had often regretted that he
+had not been put quietly out of the way, instead of being admitted to
+the society. Now after hearing what Giovanni had to say, he had not the
+slightest doubt but that Zorzi had really broken the laws, and it seemed
+an admirable solution of the whole affair that the Dalmatian should be
+exiled from the Republic for life. That being settled, he wished to get
+rid of his visitor, as Arisa was waiting for him.
+
+"I assure you," Giovanni said, "that this miserable Zorzi is a liar, a
+thief and an assassin."
+
+"Yes," assented Contarini carelessly, "I have no doubt of it."
+
+"The best thing is to arrest him at once, this very night, if possible,
+and have him brought before the Council."
+
+"Yes."
+
+Contarini had agreed with Giovanni on this point already, and made a
+movement to descend, but Giovanni loved to stand still in order to talk,
+and he would not move. Contarini waited for him.
+
+"It is important that some member of the Council should be informed of
+the truth beforehand," he continued. "Will you speak to your father
+about it, Messer Jacopo?"
+
+"Yes," answered Contarini, and he spoke the word intentionally with
+great emphasis, in the hope that Giovanni would be finally satisfied and
+go away.
+
+"You will be conferring a benefit on the city of Murano," said Giovanni
+in a tone of gratitude, and this time he began to come down the steps.
+
+The gondolier had heard every word that had been said, as well as the
+servants in the lower hall; but to them the conversation had no especial
+meaning, as they knew nothing of Zorzi. To the gondolier, on the other
+hand, who was devoted to his master and detested his master's son, it
+meant much, though his stolid, face did not betray the slightest
+intelligence.
+
+Giovanni took leave of Contarini with much ceremony, a little too much,
+Jacopo thought.
+
+"To the Grand Canal," said Giovanni as the gondolier helped him to get
+in, and he backed under the 'felse.' "Try and find the Governor of
+Murano, and if you see him, take me alongside his gondola."
+
+The sun was now low, and as the light craft shot out at last upon the
+Grand Canal, the breeze came up from the land, cool and refreshing.
+Scores of gondolas were moving up and down, some with the black 'felse,'
+some without, and in the latter there were beautiful women, whose
+sun-dyed hair shone resplendent under the thin embroidered veils that
+loosely covered it. They wore silk and satin of rich hues, and jewels,
+and some were clad in well-fitting bodices that were nets of thin gold
+cord drawn close over velvet, with lawn sleeves gathered to the fore-arm
+and the upper-arm by netting of seed pearls. Beside some of them sat
+their husbands or their fathers, in robes and mantles of satin and silk,
+or in wide coats of rich stuff, open at the neck; bearded men,
+straight-featured, and often very pale, wearing great puffed caps set
+far back on their smooth hair, their white hands playing with their
+gloves, their dark eyes searching out from afar the faces of famous
+beauties, or, if they were grey-haired men, fixed thoughtfully before
+them.
+
+Overall the evening light descended like a mist of gold, reflected from
+the sculptured walls of palaces, where marble columns and light
+traceries of stone were dyed red and orange and almost purple by the
+setting sun, and nestling among the carved beams and far-projecting
+balconies of wooden houses that overhung the canal, gilding the water
+itself where the broad-bladed oars struck deep and churned it, and swept
+aft, and steered with a poising, feathering backstroke, or where tiny
+waves were dashed up by a gondola's bright iron stem. Slowly the water
+turned to wine below, the clear outlines of the palaces stood out less
+sharply against the paling sky, the golden cloudlets, floating behind
+the great tower of Saint Mark's presently faded to wreaths of delicate
+mist. The bells rung out from church and monastery, far and near, till
+the air was filled with a deep music, telling all Venice that the day
+was done.
+
+Then the many voices that had echoed in greeting and in laughter, from
+boat to boat, were hushed a moment, and almost every man took off his
+hat or cap, the robed Councillor and the gondolier behind him; and also
+a good number of the great ladies made the sign of the cross and were
+silent a while. It was the hour when Venice puts forth her stealing
+charm, when the terrible distinctness of her splendour grows gentle and
+almost human, and the little mystery of each young life rises from the
+heart to hold converse with the sweet, mysterious all. Through the long
+day the palaces look down consciously at themselves, mirrored in the
+calm water where they stand, and each seems to say "I am finer than
+you," or "My master is still richer than yours," or "You are going to
+ruin faster than I am," or "I was built by a Lombardo," or "I by
+Sansovino," and the violent light is ever there to bear witness of the
+truth of what each says. Within, without, in hall and church and
+gallery, there is perpetual brightness and perpetual silence. But at the
+evening hour, now, as in old times, a spirit takes Venice and folds it
+in loving arms, whispering words that are not even guessed by day.
+
+The Ave Maria had not ceased ringing when Giovanni's gondolier came up
+with the Governor of Murano. He was alone, and at his invitation
+Giovanni left his own craft and sat down beside the patrician, whose
+gondola was uncovered for coolness. Giovanni talked earnestly in low
+tones, holding his sealed letter in his hand, while his own oarsman
+watched him closely in the advancing dusk, but was too wise to try to
+overhear what was said. He knew well enough now what Giovanni wanted of
+the Governor, and what he obtained.
+
+"Not to-night," the Governor said audibly, as Giovanni returned to his
+own gondola. "To-morrow."
+
+Giovanni turned before getting under the 'felse,' bowed low as he stood
+up and said a few words of thanks, which the Governor could hardly have
+heard as his boat shot ahead, though he made one more gracious gesture
+with his hand. The shadows descended quickly now, and everywhere the
+little lights came out, from latticed balconies and palace windows left
+open to let in the cool air, and from the silently gliding gondolas
+that each carried a small lamp; and here and there between tall houses
+the young summer moon fell across the black water, rippling under the
+freshening breeze, and it was like a shower of silver falling into a
+widow's lap.
+
+But Giovanni saw none of these things, and if he had looked out of the
+small windows of the 'felse,' he would not have cared to see them, for
+beauty did not appeal to him in nature any more than in art, except that
+in the latter it was a cause of value in things. Besides, as he suffered
+from the heat all day, he was afraid of being chilled at evening; so he
+sat inside the 'felse,' gloating over the success of his trip. The
+Governor, who knew nothing of Zorzi but was well aware of Giovanni's
+importance in Murano, had readily consented to arrest the poor Dalmatian
+who was represented as such a dangerous person, besides being a liar and
+other things, and Giovanni had particularly requested that the force
+sent should be sufficient to overpower the "raging devil" at once and
+without scandal. He judged that ten men would suffice for this, he said.
+The fact was that he feared some resistance on the part of Pasquale,
+whom he knew to be a friend to Zorzi. He had carefully abstained from
+alluding to Zorzi's lameness, lest the mere mention of it should excite
+some compassion in his hearer. He had in fact done everything to assure
+the success of his scheme, except the one thing which was the most
+necessary of all. He had allowed himself to speak of it in the hearing
+of the gondolier who hated him, and who lost no time in making use of
+the information.
+
+It was nearly supper-time when he deposited Giovanni at the steps of the
+house and took the gondola round to the narrow canal in which the boats
+lay, and which was under Nella's window. The shutters were wide open,
+and there was a light within. He called the serving-woman by name, and
+she looked out, and asked what he wanted. Then, as now, gondoliers
+worked indoors like the servants when not busy with the boats, and slept
+in the house. The man was on friendly terms with Nella, who liked him
+because he thought her mistress the most perfect creature in the world.
+
+"I have ripped the arm of my doublet," he said. "Can you mend it for me
+this evening?"
+
+"Bring it up to me now," answered Nella. "There is time before supper.
+You can wait outside my room while I do it. My mistress is already gone
+downstairs."
+
+"You are an angel," observed the gondolier from below. "The only thing
+you need is a husband."
+
+"You have guessed wrong," answered Nella with a little laugh. "That is
+the only thing I do not need."
+
+She disappeared, and the gondolier went round by the back of the house
+to the side door, in order to go upstairs. In a quarter of an hour,
+while she stood in her doorway, and he in the passage without, he had
+told her all he knew of Giovanni's evil intentions against Zorzi,
+including the few words which the Governor had spoken audibly. The torn
+sleeve was an invention.
+
+Giovanni was visibly elated at supper, a circumstance which pleased his
+wife but inspired Marietta with some distrust. She had never felt any
+sympathy for the brother who was so much older than herself, and who
+took a view of things which seemed to her sordid, and she did not like
+to see him sitting in her father's place, often talking of the house as
+if it were already his, and dictating to her upon matters of conduct as
+well as upon questions of taste. Everything he said jarred on her, but
+as yet she had no idea that he had any plans against Zorzi, and being of
+a reserved character she often took no trouble to answer what he said,
+except to bend her head a little to acknowledge that he had said it.
+When she was alone with her father, she loved to sit with him after
+supper in the big room, working by the clear light of the olive oil
+lamp, while he sat in his great chair and talked to her of his work. He
+had told her far more than he realised of his secret processes as well
+as of his experiments, and she had remembered it, for she alone of his
+children had inherited his true love and understanding of the noble art
+of glass-making.
+
+But now that he was away, Giovanni generally spent the evening in
+instructing his wife how to save money, and she listened meekly enough
+to what he told her, for she was a modest little woman, of colourless
+character, brought up to have no great opinion of herself, though her
+father was a rich merchant; and she looked upon her husband as belonging
+to a superior class. Marietta found the conversation intolerable and
+she generally left the couple together a quarter of an hour after
+supper was over and went to her own room, where she worked a little and
+listened to Nella's prattle, and sometimes answered her. She was living
+in a state of half-suspended thought, and was glad to let the time pass
+as it would, provided it passed at all.
+
+This evening, as usual, she bade her brother and his wife good night,
+and went upstairs. Nella had learned to expect her and was waiting for
+her. To her surprise, Nella shut the window as soon as she entered.
+
+"Leave it open," she said. "It is hot this evening. Why did you shut it?
+You never do."
+
+"A window is an ear," answered Nella mysteriously. "The nights are still
+and voices carry far."
+
+"What great secret are you going to talk of?" inquired Marietta, with a
+careless smile, as she drew the long pins from her hair and let the
+heavy braids fall behind her.
+
+"Bad news, bad news!" Nella repeated. "The young master is doing things
+which he ought not to do, because they are very unjust and spiteful. I
+am only a poor serving-woman, but I would bite off my fingers, like
+this"--and she bit them sharply and shook them--"before I would let them
+do such things!"
+
+"What do you mean, Nella?" asked Marietta. "You must not speak of my
+brother in that way."
+
+"Your brother! Eh, your brother!" cried Nella in a low and angry voice,
+quite unlike her own. "Do you know what your brother has done? He has
+been to Messer Jacopo Contarini, your betrothed husband, and he has
+told him that Zorzi is a liar, a thief and an assassin, and that he will
+have him arrested to-night, if he can, and Messer Jacopo promised that
+his father, who is of the Council, shall have Zorzi condemned! And your
+brother has seen the Governor of Murano in Venice, and has given him a
+great letter, and the Governor said that it should not be to-night, but
+to-morrow. That is the sort of man your brother is."
+
+Marietta was standing. She had turned slowly pale while Nella was
+speaking, and grasped the back of a chair with both hands. She thought
+she was going to faint.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+Marrietta's heart stood still, as she bent over the back of the chair
+holding it with both her hands, but feeling that she was falling. She
+had expected anything but this, when Nella had begun to speak. The blow
+was sudden and heavy, and she herself had never known how much she could
+be hurt, until that moment.
+
+Nella looked at her in astonishment. The serving-woman had changed her
+mind about Zorzi of late, and had grown fond of him in taking care of
+him. But her anger against Giovanni was roused rather because what he
+was about to do was an affront to his father, her master, than out of
+mere sympathy for the intended victim. She was far from understanding
+what could have so deeply moved Marietta.
+
+"You see," she said triumphantly, "what sort of a brother you have!"
+
+The sound of her voice recalled the young girl just when she felt that
+she was losing consciousness. Her first instinct was to go to Zorzi and
+warn him. He must escape at once. The Governor had said that it should
+be to-morrow, but he might change his mind and send his men to-night.
+There was no time to be lost, she must go instantly. As she stood
+upright she could see the porter's light shining through the small
+grated window, for Pasquale was still awake, but in a few minutes the
+light would go out. She had often been at her own window at that hour,
+and had watched it, wondering whether Zorzi would work far into the
+night, and whether he was thinking of her.
+
+It would be easy to slip out by the side door and run across. No one
+would know, except Nella and Pasquale, but she would have preferred that
+only the latter should be in the secret. She was still dressed, though
+her hair was undone, and the hood of a thin silk mantle would hide that.
+Her mind reasoned by instantaneous flashes now, and she had full control
+of herself again. She would tell Nella that she was going downstairs
+again for a little while, and she would also tell her to make an
+infusion of lime flowers and to bring it in half an hour and wait for
+her. Down the main staircase to the landing, down the narrow stairs in
+the dark, out into the street--it would not take long, and she would tap
+very softly at the door of the glass-house.
+
+When she said that she would go down again, Nella suspected nothing. On
+the contrary she thought her mistress was wise.
+
+"You will lead on the Signor Giovanni to talk of Zorzi," she said. "You
+will learn something."
+
+"And make me a drink of lime flowers," continued Marietta. "The
+housekeeper has plenty."
+
+"I know, I know," answered Nella. "Shall you come up again soon?"
+
+"Be here in half an hour with the drink, and wait for me. You had
+better go for the lime flowers before the housekeeper is asleep. I will
+twist my hair up again before I go down."
+
+Nella nodded and disappeared, for the housekeeper generally went to bed
+very early. As soon as she was out of the room Marietta took her silk
+cloak and wrapped herself in it, drawing the end over her head, so as to
+hide her hair and shade her face. She was pale still, but her lips were
+tightly closed and her eyelids a little drawn together, as she left the
+room. She met no one on the stairs. In the dark, when she reached the
+door, she could feel the oak bar that was set across it at night, and
+she slipped it back into its hole in the wall, without making much
+noise. She lifted the latch and went out.
+
+The night was still and clear, and the young moon was setting. If any
+one had been looking out she must have been seen as she crossed the
+wooden bridge, and she glanced nervously back at the open windows. There
+were lights in the big room, and she heard Giovanni's monotonous voice,
+as he talked to his wife. But there was shadow under the glass-house,
+and a moment later she was tapping softly at the door. Pasquale looked
+down from the grating, and was about to say something uncomplimentary
+when he recognised her, for he could see very well when there was little
+light, like most sailors. He opened the door at once, and stood aside to
+let Marietta enter.
+
+"Shut the door quickly," she whispered, "and do not open it for anybody,
+till I come out."
+
+Pasquale obeyed in silence. He knew as well as she did that Giovanni was
+sitting in the big room, with open windows, within easy hearing of
+ordinary sounds. A feeble light came through the open door of the
+porter's lodge.
+
+"Is Zorzi awake?" Marietta asked in a low tone, when both had gone a few
+steps down the corridor.
+
+"Yes. He will sleep little to-night, for the boys have not come, and he
+must tend the fire himself."
+
+Marietta guessed that her brother had given the order, so that Zorzi
+might be left quite alone.
+
+"Pasquale," she said, "I can trust you, I am sure. You are a good friend
+to Zorzi."
+
+The porter growled something incoherent, but she understood what he
+meant.
+
+"Yes," she continued, "I trust you, and you must trust me. It is
+absolutely necessary that I should speak with Zorzi alone to-night. No
+one knows that I have left the house, and no one must know that I have
+been here."
+
+The old sailor had seen much in his day, but he was profoundly
+astonished at Marietta's audacity.
+
+"You are the mistress," he said in a grave and quiet voice that Marietta
+had never heard before. "But I am an old man, and I cannot help telling
+you that it is not seemly for a young girl to be alone at night with a
+young man, in the place where he lives. You will forgive me for saying
+so, because I have served your father a long time."
+
+"You are quite right," answered Marietta. "But in matters of life and
+death there is nothing seemly or unseemly. I have not time to explain
+all this. Zorzi is in great danger. For my father's sake I must warn
+him, and I cannot stay out long. Not even Nella must know that I am
+here. Be ready to let me out."
+
+She almost ran down the corridor to the garden. The moon was already too
+low to shine upon the walk, but the beams silvered the higher leaves of
+the plane-tree, and all was clear and distinct. Even in her haste, she
+glanced at the place where she had so often sat, before her life had
+began to change.
+
+There was a strong light in the laboratory and the window was open. She
+looked in and saw Zorzi sitting in the great chair, his head leaning
+back and his eyes closed. He was so pale and worn that, she felt a sharp
+pain as her eyes fell on his face. His crutch was beside him, and he
+seemed to be asleep. It was a pity to wake him, she thought, yet she
+could not lose time; she had lost too much already in talking with
+Pasquale.
+
+"Zorzi!" She called him softly.
+
+He started in his sleep, opened his eyes wide, and tried to spring up
+without his crutch, for he fancied himself in a dream. She had thrown
+back the drapery that covered her head and the bright light fell upon
+her face. It hurt her again to see how he staggered and put out his hand
+for his accustomed support.
+
+"I am coming in," she said quietly. "Do not move, unless the door is
+locked."
+
+She met him before he was half across the room. Instinctively she put
+out her hand to help him back to his chair. Then she understood that he
+did not need it, for he was much better now. She saw that he looked to
+the window, expecting to see Nella, and she smiled.
+
+"I am alone," she said. "You see how I trust you. Only Pasquale knows
+that I am here. You must sit down, and I will sit beside you, for I have
+much to say."
+
+He looked at her in silent wonder for a moment, happy beyond words to be
+with her, but very anxious as to the reasons which could have brought
+her to him at such an hour and quite alone. Her manner was so quiet and
+decided that it did not even occur to him to protest against her coming,
+and he sat down as she bade him, but on the bench, and she seated
+herself in the chair, turning in it so that she could see his face. They
+were near enough to speak in low tones.
+
+"My brother Giovanni hates you," she began. "He means to ruin you, if he
+can, before my father comes home."
+
+"I am not afraid of him," said Zorzi, speaking for the first time since
+she had entered. "Let him do his worst."
+
+"You do not know what his worst is," answered Marietta, "and he has got
+Messer Jacopo Contarini to help him. You are surprised? Yes. My
+betrothed husband has promised to speak with his father against you, at
+once. You know that he is of the Council."
+
+Zorzi's face expressed the utmost astonishment.
+
+"Are you quite sure that it is Jacopo Contarini?" he asked, as if unable
+to believe what she said.
+
+"Is it likely that I should be mistaken? My brother was with him this
+afternoon at the palace, our gondolier heard them talking on the stairs
+as they came down. He told Nella, and she has just told me. Giovanni
+heaped all sorts of abuse on you, and Messer Jacopo agreed with all he
+said. Then they spoke of arresting you and bringing you to justice, and
+they talked of the Council. After that Giovanni met the Governor of
+Murano and got into his gondola, and they talked in a low tone. My
+brother gave him a sealed document, and the Governor said that it should
+not be to-night, but to-morrow. That is all I know, but it is enough."
+
+Zorzi half closed his eyes for a moment, in deep thought; and in a flash
+he understood that Contarini wished him out of the way, and was taking
+the first means that offered to get rid of him. To keep faith with such
+a man would be as foolish as to expect any faithfulness from him. Zorzi
+opened his eyes again, and looked at the face of the woman he loved. His
+oath to the society had stood between him and her, and he knew that it
+was no longer binding on him, since Jacopo Contarini was helping to send
+him to destruction. Yet now that it was gone, he saw also that it had
+been the least of the obstacles that made up the barrier.
+
+"Of what do they accuse me?" he asked, after a moment's silence. "What
+can they prove against me?"
+
+"I cannot tell. It matters very little. Do you understand? To-morrow, if
+not to-night, the Governor's men will come here to arrest you, and if
+you have not escaped, you will be imprisoned and taken before the
+Council. They may accuse you of being involved in a conspiracy--they may
+torture you."
+
+She shivered at the thought, and looked into his dark eyes with fear and
+pity. His lip curled a little disdainfully.
+
+"Do you think that I shall run away?" he asked.
+
+"You will not stay here, and let them arrest you!" cried Marietta
+anxiously.
+
+"Your father left me here to take care of what belongs to him, and there
+is much that is valuable. I thank you very much for warning me, but I
+know what your brother means to do, and I shall not go away of my own
+accord. If he can have me taken off by force, he will come here alone
+and search the place. If he searches long enough, he may find what he
+wants."
+
+"Is Paolo Godi's manuscript in this room?" asked Marietta quietly.
+
+Zorzi stared at her in surprise.
+
+"How did you know that your father left it with me?" he asked.
+
+"He would not have entrusted it to any one else. That is natural. My
+brother wants it. Is that the reason why you will not escape? Or is
+there any other?"
+
+"That is the principal reason," answered Zorzi. "Another is that there
+is valuable glass here, which your brother would take."
+
+"Which he would steal," said Marietta bitterly. "But Pasquale can bury
+it in the garden after you are gone. The principal thing is the book.
+Give it to me. I will take care of it till my father comes back. Until
+then you must hide somewhere, for it is madness to stay here. Give me
+the book, and let me take it away at once."
+
+"I cannot give it to you," Zorzi said, with a puzzled expression which
+Marietta did not understand.
+
+"You do not trust me," she answered sadly.
+
+He did not reply at once, for the words made no impression on him when
+he heard them. He trusted her altogether, but there was a material
+difficulty in the way. He remembered how long it had taken to hide the
+iron box under broken glass, and he knew how long it would take to get
+it out again. Marietta could not stay in the laboratory, late into the
+night, and yet if she did not take the box with her now, she might not
+be able to take it at all, since neither she nor Nella could have
+carried it to the house by day, without being seen.
+
+Marietta rested her elbow on the arm of the big chair, and her hand
+supported her chin, in an attitude of thought, as she looked steadily at
+Zorzi's face, and her own was grave and sad.
+
+"You never trusted me," she said presently. "Yet I have been a good
+friend to you, have I not?"
+
+"A friend? Oh, much more than that!" Zorzi turned his eyes from her. "I
+trust you with all my heart."
+
+She shook her head incredulously.
+
+"If you trusted me, you would do what I ask," she said. "I have risked
+something to help you--perhaps to save your life--who knows? Do you know
+what would happen if my brother found me here alone with you? I should
+end my life in a convent. But if you will not save yourself, I might as
+well not have come."
+
+"I would give you the book if I could," answered Zorzi. "But I cannot.
+It is hidden in such a way that it would take a long time to get it out.
+That is the simple truth. Your father and I had buried it here under the
+stones, but somehow your brother suspected that, and I have changed the
+hiding-place. It took a whole morning to do it."
+
+Still Marietta did not quite believe that he could not give it to her if
+he chose. It seemed as if there must always be a shadow between them,
+when they were together, always the beginning of a misunderstanding.
+
+"Where is it?" she asked, after a moment's hesitation. "If you are in
+earnest you will tell me."
+
+"It is better that you should know, in case anything happens to me,"
+answered Zorzi. "It is buried in that big jar, in some three feet of
+broken glass. I had to take the glass out bit by bit, and put it all
+back again."
+
+As Marietta looked at the jar, a little colour rose in her face again.
+
+"Thank you," she said. "I know you trust me, now."
+
+"I always have," he answered softly, "and I always shall, even when you
+are married to Jacopo Contarini."
+
+"That is still far off. Let us not talk of it. You must get ready to
+leave this place before morning. You must take the skiff and get away to
+the mainland, if you can, for till my father comes you will not be safe
+in Venice."
+
+"I shall not go away," said Zorzi firmly. "They may not try to arrest me
+after all."
+
+"But they will, I know they will!" All her anxiety for him came back in
+a moment. "You must go at once! Zorzi, to please me--for my sake--leave
+to-night!"
+
+"For your sake? There is nothing I would not do for your sake, except be
+a coward."
+
+"But it is not cowardly!" pleaded Marietta. "There is nothing else to be
+done, and if my father could know what you risk by staying, he would
+tell you to go, as I do. Please, please, please--"
+
+"I cannot," he answered stubbornly.
+
+"Oh, Zorzi, if you have the least friendship for me, do what I ask! Do
+you not see that I am half mad with anxiety? I entreat you, I beg you, I
+implore you--"
+
+Their eyes met, and hers were wide with fear for him, and earnestness,
+and they were not quite dry.
+
+"Do you care so much?" asked Zorzi, hardly knowing what he said. "Does
+it matter so much to you what becomes of me?"
+
+He moved nearer on the bench. Leaning towards her, where he sat, he
+could rest his elbow on the broad arm of the low chair, and so look into
+her face. She covered her eyes, and shook a little, and her mantle
+slipped from her shoulders and trembled as it settled down into the
+chair. He leaned farther, till he was close to her, and he tried to
+uncover her eyes, very gently, but she resisted. His heart beat slowly
+and hard, like strokes of a hammer, and his hands were shaking, when he
+drew her nearer. Presently he himself sat upon the arm of the chair,
+holding her close to him, and she let him press her head to his breast,
+for she could not think any more; and all at once her hands slipped down
+and she was resting in the hollow of his arm, looking up to his face.
+
+It seemed a long time, as long as whole years, since she had meant to
+drop another rose in his path, or even since she had suffered him to
+press her hand for a moment. The whole tale was told now, in one touch,
+in one look, with little resistance and less fear.
+
+"I love you," he said slowly and earnestly, and the words were strange
+to his own ears.
+
+For he had never said them before, nor had she ever heard them, and when
+they are spoken in that way they are the most wonderful words in the
+world, both to speak and to hear.
+
+The look he had so rarely seen was there now, and there was no care to
+hide what was in her eyes, for she had told him all, without a word, as
+women can.
+
+"I have loved you very long," he said again, and with one hand he
+pressed back her hair and smoothed it.
+
+"I know it," she answered, gazing at him with lips just parted. "But I
+have loved you longer still."
+
+"How could I guess it?" he asked. "It seems so wonderful, so very
+strange!"
+
+"I could not say it first." She smiled. "And yet I tried to tell you
+without words."
+
+"Did you?"
+
+She nodded as her head lay in his arm, and closed her smiling lips
+tightly, and nodded again.
+
+"You would not understand," she said. "You always made it hard for me."
+
+"Oh, if I had only known!"
+
+She lay quietly on his arm for a few seconds, and neither spoke. Only
+the low roar of the furnace was heard in the hot stillness. Marietta
+looked up steadily into his face, with unwinking eyes.
+
+"How you look at me!" he said, with a happy smile.
+
+"I have often wanted to look at you like this," she answered gravely.
+"But until you had told me, how could I?"
+
+He bent down rather timidly, but drawn to her by a power he could not
+resist. His first kiss touched her forehead lightly, with a sort of
+boyish reverence, while a thrill ran through every nerve and fibre of
+his body. But she turned in his arms and threw her own suddenly round
+his neck, and in an instant their lips met.
+
+Zorzi was in a dream, where Marietta alone was real. All thought and
+recollection of danger vanished, the very room was not the laboratory
+where he had so long lived and worked, and thought and suffered. The
+walls were gold, the stone pavement was a silken carpet, the shadowy
+smoke-stained beams were the carved ceiling of a palace, he was himself
+the king and master of the whole world, and he held all his kingdom in
+his arms.
+
+"You understand now," Marietta said at last, holding his face before her
+with her hands.
+
+"No," he answered lovingly. "I do not understand, I will not even try.
+If I do, I shall open my eyes, and it will suddenly be daylight, and I
+shall put out my hands and find nothing! I shall be alone, in my room,
+just awake and aching with a horrible longing for the impossible. You do
+not know what it is to dream of you, and wake in the grey dawn! You
+cannot guess what the emptiness is, the loneliness!"
+
+"I know it well," said Marietta. "I have been perfectly happy, talking
+to you under the plane-tree, your hand in mine, and mine in yours, our
+eyes in each other's eyes, our hearts one heart! And then, all at once,
+there was Nella, standing at the foot of my bed with a big dish in her
+hands, laughing at me because I had been sleeping so soundly! Oh,
+sometimes I could kill her for waking me!"
+
+She drew his face to hers, with a little laugh that broke off short. For
+a kiss is a grave matter.
+
+"How much time we have wasted in all these months!" she said presently.
+"Why would you never understand?"
+
+"How could I guess that you could ever love me?" Zorzi asked.
+
+"I guessed that you loved me," objected Marietta. "At least," she added,
+correcting herself, "I was quite sure of it for a little while. Then I
+did not believe it all. If I had believed it quite, they should never
+have betrothed me to Jacopo Contarini!"
+
+The name recalled all realities to Zorzi, though she spoke it very
+carelessly, almost with scorn. Zorzi sighed and looked up at last, and
+stared at the wall opposite.
+
+"What is it?" asked Marietta quickly. "Why do you sigh?"
+
+"There is reason enough. Are you not betrothed to him, as you say?"
+
+Marietta straightened herself suddenly, and made him look at her. A
+quick light was in her eyes, as she spoke.
+
+"Do you know what you are saying? Do you think that if I meant to marry
+Messer Jacopo, I should be here now, that I should let you hold me in
+your arms, that I would kiss you? Do you really believe that?"
+
+"I could not believe it," Zorzi answered. "And yet--"
+
+"And yet you almost do!" she cried. "What more do you need, to know that
+I love you, with all my heart and soul and will, and that I mean to be
+your wife, come what may?"
+
+"How is it possible?" asked Zorzi almost disconsolately. "How could you
+ever marry me? What am I, after all, compared with you? I am not even a
+Venetian! I am a stranger, a waif, a man with neither name nor fortune!
+And I am half a cripple, lame for life! How can you marry me? At the
+first word of such a thing your father will join his son against me, I
+shall be thrown into prison on some false charge and shall never come
+out again, unless it be to be hanged for some crime I never committed."
+
+"There is a very simple way of preventing all those dreadful things,"
+answered Marietta.
+
+"I wish I could find it."
+
+"Take me with you," she said calmly.
+
+Zorzi looked at her in dumb surprise, for she could not have said
+anything which he had expected less.
+
+"Listen to me," she continued. "You cannot stay here--or rather, you
+shall not, for I will not let you. No, you need not smile and shake your
+head, for I will find some means of making you go."
+
+"You will find that hard, dear love, for that is the only thing I will
+not do for you."
+
+"Is it? We shall see. You are very brave, and you are very, very
+obstinate, but you are not very sensible, for you are only a man, after
+all. In the first place, do you imagine that even if Giovanni were to
+spend a whole week in this room, he would think of looking for the box
+amongst the broken glass?"
+
+"No, I do not think he would," answered Zorzi. "That was sensible of me,
+at all events." She laughed.
+
+"Oh, you are clever enough! I never said that you were not that. I only
+said that you had no sense. As for instance, since you are sure that my
+brother cannot find the box, why do you wish to stay here?"
+
+"I promised your father that I would. I will keep my promise, at all
+costs."
+
+"In which of two ways shall you be of more use to my father? If you hide
+in a safe place till he comes home, and if you then come back to him and
+help him as before? Or if you allow yourself to be thrown into prison,
+and tried, and perhaps hanged or banished, for something you never did?
+And if any harm comes to you, what do you think would become of me? Do
+you see? I told you that you had no common sense. Now you will believe
+me. But if all this is not enough to make you go, I have another plan,
+which you cannot possibly oppose."
+
+"What is that?" asked Zorzi.
+
+"I will go alone. I will cross the bridge, and take the skiff, and row
+myself over to Venice and from Venice I will get to the mainland."
+
+"You could not row the skiff," objected Zorzi, amused at the idea. "You
+would fall off, or upset her."
+
+"Then I should drown," returned Marietta philosophically. "And you would
+be sorry, whether you thought it was your fault or not. Is that true?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Very well. If you will not promise me faithfully to escape to the
+mainland to-night, I swear to you by all that you and I believe in, and
+most of all by our love for each other, that I will do what I said, and
+run away from my father's house, to-night. But you will not let me go
+alone, will you?"
+
+"No!"
+
+"There! You see! Of course you would not let me go alone, me, a poor
+weak girl, who have never taken a step alone in my life, until to-night!
+And they say that the world is so wicked! What would become of me if you
+let me go away alone?"
+
+"If I thought you meant to do that!"
+
+He laughed again, and drew her to him, and would have kissed her; but
+she held him back and looked at him earnestly.
+
+"I mean it," she said. "That is what I will do. I swear that I will.
+Yes--now you may."
+
+And she kissed him of her own accord, but quickly withdrew herself from
+his arms again.
+
+"You have your choice," she said, "and you must choose quickly, for I
+have been here too long--it must be nearly half an hour since I left my
+room, and Nella is waiting for me, thinking that I am with my brother
+and his wife. Promise me to do what I ask, and I will go back, and when
+my father comes home I will tell him the whole troth. That is the wisest
+thing, after all. Or, I will go with you, if you will take me as I am."
+
+"No," he answered, with an effort. "I will not take you with me."
+
+It cost him a hard struggle to refuse. There she was, resting against
+his arm, in the blush and wealth of unspent love, asking to go with him,
+who loved her better than his life. But in a quick vision he saw her
+with him, she who was delicately nurtured and used from childhood to all
+that care and money could give, he saw her with him, sharing his misery,
+his hunger and his wandering, suffering silently for love's sake, but
+suffering much, and he could not bear the fancied sight.
+
+"I should be in your way," she said. "Besides, they would send all over
+Italy to find me."
+
+"It is not that," he answered. "You might starve."
+
+She looked up anxiously to his face.
+
+"And you?" she asked. "Have you no money?"
+
+"No. How should I have money? I believe I have one piece of gold and a
+little silver. It will be enough to keep me from starvation till I can
+get work somewhere. I can live on bread and water, as I have many a
+time."
+
+"If I had only thought!" exclaimed Marietta. "I have so much! My father
+left me a little purse of gold that I shall never need."
+
+"I would not take your father's money," answered Zorzi. "But have no
+fear. If I go at all, I shall do well enough. Besides, there is a man in
+Venice--" He stopped short, not wishing to speak of Zuan Venier.
+
+"You must not make any condition," she answered, not heeding the
+unfinished sentence. "You must go at once."
+
+She rose as she spoke.
+
+"Every minute I stay here makes it more dangerous for me to go back,"
+she said. "I know that you will keep your promise. We must say
+good-bye."
+
+He had risen, too, and stood facing her, his crutch under his arm. In
+all her anxiety for his safety she had half forgotten that his wound was
+barely healed, and that he still walked with great difficulty. And now,
+at the thought of leaving him she forgot everything else. They had been
+so cruelly short, those few minutes of perfect happiness between the
+long misunderstanding that had kept them apart and the parting again
+that was to separate them, perhaps for months. As they looked at each
+other, they both grew pale, and in an instant Zorzi's young face looked
+haggard and his eyes seemed to grow hollow, while Marietta's filled with
+tears.
+
+"Good-bye!" she cried in a broken voice. "God keep you, my dear love!"
+
+Then her face was buried in the hollow of his shoulder and her tears
+flowed fast and burning hot.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+
+It was over at last, and Zorzi stood alone by the table, for Marietta
+would not let him go with her to the door. She could not trust herself
+before Pasquale, even in the gloom. He stood by the table, leaning on it
+heavily with one hand, and trying to realise all that had come into his
+lonely life within the half hour, and all that might happen to him
+before morning. The glorious and triumphant certainty which first love
+brings to every man when it is first returned, still swelled his heart
+and filled the air he breathed, so that while breathing deep, he could
+not breathe enough. In such a mood all dangers dwindled, all obstacles
+sank out of sight as shadows sink at dawn. And yet the parting had hurt
+him, as if his body had been wrenched in the middle by some resistless
+force.
+
+Women feel parting differently. Shall we men ever understand them? To a
+man, first love is a victory, to a girl it is a sweet wonder, and a joy,
+and a tender longing, all in one. And when partings come, as come they
+must in life until death brings the last, it is always the man who
+leaves, and the woman who is left, even though in plain fact it be the
+man that stays behind; and we men feel a little contemptuous pity for
+one who seems to cry out after the woman he loves, asking why she has
+left him, and beseeching her to come back to him, but our compassion for
+the woman in like case is always sincere. In such small things there are
+the great mysteries of that prime difference, which neither man nor
+woman can ever fully understand, but which, if not understood a little,
+is the cause of much miserable misunderstanding in life.
+
+Zorzi had to face the future at once, for it was upon him, and the old
+life was over, perhaps never to come again. He stood still, where he
+was, for any useless movement was an effort, and he tried to collect his
+thoughts and determine just what he should do, and how it was to be
+done. His eye fell on the piece of gold Giovanni had paid for the
+beaker. In the morning, if he drew the iron tray further down the
+annealing oven, the glass would be ready to be taken out, and Giovanni
+could take it if he pleased, for he knew whose it was. But starvation
+itself could not have induced Zorzi to take the money now. He turned
+from it with contempt. All he needed was enough to buy bread for a week,
+and mere bread cost little. That little he had, and it must suffice.
+Besides that he would make a bundle small enough to be easily carried.
+His chief difficulty would be in rowing the skiff. To use the single oar
+at all it was almost indispensable to stand, and to stand chiefly on the
+right foot, since the single rowlock, as in every Venetian boat, was on
+the starboard side and could not be shifted to port. He fancied that in
+some way he could manage to sit on the thwart, and use the oar as a
+paddle. In any case he must get away, since flight was the wisest
+course, and since he had promised Marietta that he would go. His
+reflections had occupied scarce half a minute.
+
+He began to walk towards the small room where he slept, and where he
+kept his few possessions. He had taken two steps from the table, when he
+stopped short, turned round and listened.
+
+He heard the sound of light footsteps, running along the path and coming
+nearer. In another moment Marietta was at the window, her face deadly
+white, her eyes wide with fear.
+
+"They are there!" she cried wildly. "They have come to-night! Hide
+yourself quickly! Pasquale will keep them out as long as he can."
+
+She had found Pasquale stoutly refusing to open the door. Outside stood
+a lieutenant of the archers with half-a-dozen men, demanding admittance
+in the name of the Governor. Pasquale answered that they might get in by
+force if they could, but that he had no orders to open the door to them.
+The lieutenant was in doubt whether his warrant authorised him to break
+in or not.
+
+Zorzi knew that Marietta was in even more danger than he. The situation
+was desperate and the time short. She was still at the window, looking
+in.
+
+"You know your way to the main furnace rooms," Zorzi said quickly, but
+with great coolness. "Run in there, and stand still in the dark till
+everything is quiet. Then slip out and get home as quickly as
+possible."
+
+"But you? What will become of you?" asked Marietta in an agony of
+anxiety.
+
+"If they do not take me at once, they will search all the buildings and
+will find you," answered Zorzi. "I will go and meet them, while you are
+hiding."
+
+He opened the door beside the window and put his crutch forward upon the
+path. At the same moment the sound of a tremendous blow echoed down the
+dark corridor. The moon was low but had not set and there was still
+light in the garden.
+
+"Quickly!" Zorzi exclaimed. "They are breaking down the door."
+
+But Marietta clung to him almost savagely, when he tried to push her in
+the direction of the main furnace rooms on the other side of the garden.
+
+"I will not leave you," she cried. "They shall take me with you,
+wherever you are going!"
+
+She grasped his hand with both her hands, and then, as he moved, she
+slipped her arm round him. At the street door the pounding blows
+succeeded each other in quick succession, but apparently without effect.
+
+Zorzi saw that he must make her understand her extreme danger. He took
+hold of her wrist with a quiet strength that recalled her to herself,
+and there was a tone of command in his voice when he spoke.
+
+"Go at once," he said. "It will be worse for both of us if you are found
+here. They will hang me for stealing the master's daughter as well as
+his secrets. Go, dear love, go! Good-bye!"
+
+He kissed her once, and then gently pushed her from him. She understood
+that she must obey, and that if he spoke of his own danger it was for
+the sake of her good name. With a gesture of despair she turned and left
+him, crossed the patch of light without looking back, and disappeared
+into the shadows beyond. She was safe now, for he would go and meet the
+archers, opening the door to give himself up. Using his crutch he swung
+himself along into the dark corridor without another moment's
+hesitation.
+
+But matters did not turn out as he expected. When the force came down
+the footway from the dilution of San Piero, Giovanni was still talking
+to his wife about household economies and censuring what he called the
+reckless extravagance of his father's housekeeping. As he talked, he
+heard the even tread of a number of marching men. He sprang to his feet
+and went to the window, for he guessed who was coming, though he could
+not imagine why the Governor had not waited till the next day, as had
+been agreed. He could not know that on leaving him Jacopo Contarini had
+seen his father and had told him of Zorzi's misdeeds; and that the
+Governor had supped with old Contarini, who was an uncompromising
+champion of the law, besides being one of the Ten and therefore the
+Governor's superior in office; and that Contarini had advised that Zorzi
+should be taken on that same night, as he might be warned of his danger
+and find means to escape. Moreover, Contarini offered a trusty and swift
+oarsman to take the order to Murano, and the Governor wrote it on the
+supper table, between two draughts of Greek wine, which he drank from a
+goblet made by Angelo Beroviero himself in the days when he still worked
+at the art.
+
+In half an hour the warrant was in the hands of the officer, who
+immediately called out half-a-dozen of his men and marched them down to
+the glass-house.
+
+Giovanni saw them stop and knock at the door, and he heard Pasquale's
+gruff inquiry.
+
+"In the Governor's name, open at once!" said the officer.
+
+"Any one can say that," answered the porter. "In the devil's name go
+home and go to bed! Is this carnival time, to go masquerading by the
+light of the moon and waking up honest people?"
+
+"Silence!" roared the lieutenant. "Open the door, or it will be the
+worse for you."
+
+"It will be the worse for you, if the Signor Giovanni hears this
+disturbance," answered Pasquale, who could see Giovanni at the window
+opposite in the moonlight. "Either get orders from him, or go home and
+leave me in holy peace, you band of braying jackasses, you mob of
+blobber-lipped Barbary apes, you pack of doltish, droiling, doddered
+joltheads! Be off!"
+
+This eloquence, combined with Pasquale's assured manner, caused the
+lieutenant to hesitate before breaking down the door, an operation for
+which he had not been prepared, and for which he had brought no engines
+of battery.
+
+"Can you get in?" he inquired of his men, without deigning to answer the
+porter's invectives. "If not, let one of you go for a sledge hammer.
+Try it with the butts of your halberds against the lock, one, two, three
+and all at once."
+
+"Oh, break down the door!" cried Pasquale derisively. "It is of oak and
+iron, and it cost good money, and you shall pay for it, you lubberly
+ours."
+
+But the men pounded away with a good will.
+
+"Open the door!" cried Giovanni from the opposite window, at the top of
+his lungs.
+
+The sight of the destruction of property for which he might have to
+account to his father was very painful to him. But he could not make
+himself heard in the terrific din, or else Pasquale suspected the truth
+and pretended that he could not hear. The porter had seen Marietta a
+moment in the gloom, and he knew that she had gone back to warn Zorzi.
+He hoped to give them both time to hide themselves, and he now retired
+from the grating and began to strengthen the door, first by putting two
+more heavy oak bars in their places across it near the top and bottom,
+and further by bringing the scanty furniture from his lodge and piling
+it up against the panels.
+
+Meanwhile the pounding continued at a great rate, and Giovanni thought
+it better to go down and interfere in person, since he could not make
+himself heard. The servants were all roused by this time, and many heads
+were looking out of upper windows, not only from Beroviero's house, but
+from the houses higher up, beyond the wooden bridge. Two men who were
+walking up the footway from the opposite direction stopped at a little
+distance and looked on, their hoods drawn over their eyes.
+
+Giovanni came out hurriedly and crossed the bridge. He laid his hand on
+the lieutenant's shoulder anxiously and spoke close to his ear, for the
+pounding was deafening. The six men had strapped their halberds firmly
+together in a solid bundle with their belts, and standing three on each
+side they swung the whole mass of wood and iron like a battering ram, in
+regular time.
+
+"Stop them, sir! Stop them, pray!" cried Giovanni. "I will have the door
+opened for you."
+
+Suddenly there was silence as the officer caught one of his men by the
+arm and bade them all wait.
+
+"Who are you, sir?" he inquired.
+
+"I am Giovanni Beroviero," answered Giovanni, sure that his name would
+inspire respect.
+
+The officer took off his cap politely and then replaced it. The two men
+who were looking on nudged each other.
+
+"I have a warrant to arrest a certain Zorzi," began the lieutenant.
+
+"I know! It is quite right, and he is within," answered Giovanni.
+"Pasquale!" he called, standing on tiptoe under the grating. "Pasquale!
+Open the door at once for these gentlemen."
+
+"Gentlemen!" echoed one of the men softly, with a low laugh and digging
+his elbow into his companion's side.
+
+No one else spoke for a moment. Then Pasquale looked through the
+grating.
+
+"What did you say?" he asked.
+
+"I said open the door at once!" answered Giovanni. "Can you not
+recognise the officers of the law when you see them?"
+
+"No," grunted Pasquale, "I have never seen much of them. Did you say I
+was to open the door?"
+
+"Yes!" cried Giovanni angrily, for he wished to show his zeal before the
+officer. "Blockhead!" he added with emphasis, as Pasquale disappeared
+again and was presumably out of hearing.
+
+They all heard him dragging the furniture away again, the box-bed and
+the table and the old chair.
+
+Zorzi came up as Pasquale was clearing the stuff away.
+
+"They want you," said the old sailor, seeing him and hearing him at the
+same time. "What have you been doing now? Where is the young lady?"
+
+"In the main furnace room," whispered Zorzi. "Do not let them go there
+whatever they do."
+
+Pasquale gave vent to his feelings in a low voice, as he dragged the
+last things back and began to unbar the door. Zorzi leaned against the
+wall, for his lameness prevented him from helping. At last the door was
+opened, and he saw the figures of the men outside against the light. He
+went forward as quickly as he could, pushing past Pasquale to get out.
+He stood on the threshold, leaning on his crutch.
+
+"I am Zorzi," he said quietly.
+
+"Zorzi the Dalmatian, called the Ballarin?" asked the lieutenant.
+
+"Yes, yes!" cried Giovanni, anxious to hasten matters, "They call him
+the dancer because he is lame. This is that foreign liar, that thief,
+that assassin! Take him quickly!"
+
+The archers, who in the changes of time had become halberdiers, had
+dropped the bundle of spears they had made for a battering-ram. Two of
+them took Zorzi by the arms roughly, and prepared to drag him along with
+them. He made no resistance, but objected quietly.
+
+"I can walk better, if you do not hold me," he said. "I cannot run away,
+as you see."
+
+"Let him walk between you," ordered the officer. "Good night, sir," he
+said to Giovanni.
+
+Two of the men lifted the bundle of halberds and began to carry it
+between them, trying to undo the straps as they walked, for they could
+not stay behind. Giovanni saluted the officer and stood aside for the
+party to pass. The two men who had looked on had separated, and one had
+already gone forward and disappeared beyond the bridge. The other
+lingered, apparently still interested in the proceedings. Pasquale, dumb
+with rage at last, stood in the doorway.
+
+"Let me pass," said Giovanni, as soon as the archers had gone on a few
+steps, surrounding Zorzi.
+
+With a growl, Pasquale came out and stood on the pavement a moment, and
+Giovanni went in. Instantly, the man who had lingered made a step
+towards the porter, whispered something in his ear, and then made off as
+fast as he could in the direction taken by the archers. Pasquale looked
+after him in surprise, only half understanding the meaning of what he
+had said. Then he went in, but left the door ajar. The people who had
+been looking out of the windows of Beroviero's house had disappeared,
+when they had seen that Giovanni was on the footway. All was silent now;
+only, far off, the tramp of the archers could still be heard.
+
+They could not go very fast, with Zorzi in their midst, but the two men
+who were busy unfastening the bundle of halberds lagged in the rear,
+talking in a low voice. They did not notice quick footsteps behind them,
+but they heard a low whistle, answered instantly by another, just as the
+main party was nearing the corner by the church of San Piero. That was
+the last the two loiterers remembered, for at the next instant they lay
+in a heap upon the halberds, which had fallen upon the pavement with a
+tremendous clatter. A couple of well-delivered blows with a stout stick
+had thoroughly stunned them almost at the same instant. It would be some
+time before they recovered their senses.
+
+While the man who had whispered to Pasquale was doing effectual work in
+the rear, his companion was boldly attacking the main party in front. As
+the lieutenant stopped short and turned his head when the halberds
+dropped, a blow under the jaw from a fist like a sledge hammer almost
+lifted him off his feet and sent him reeling till he fell senseless,
+half-a-dozen paces away. Before the two archers who were guarding Zorzi
+could defend themselves, unarmed as they were, another blow had felled
+one of them. The second, springing forward, was caught up like a child
+by his terrible assailant and whirled through the air, to fall with a
+noisy splash into the shallow waters of the canal. The other companion
+attacked the remaining two from behind with his club and knocked one of
+them down. The last sprang to one side and ran on a few steps as fast as
+he could. But swifter feet followed him, and in an instant iron fingers
+were clutching his throat and squeezing his breath out. He struggled a
+moment, and then sank down. His captor deliberately knocked him on the
+head with his fist, and he rolled over like a stone.
+
+Utterly bewildered, Zorzi stood still, where he had stopped. Never in
+his life had he dreamed that two men could dispose of seven, in
+something like half a minute, with nothing but a stick for a weapon
+between them. But he had seen it with his eyes, and he was not surprised
+when he felt himself lifted from his feet, with his crutch beside him,
+and carried along the footway at a sharp run, in the direction of the
+glass-house. His reason told him that he had been rescued and was being
+quickly conveyed to a place of safety, but he could not help distrusting
+the means that accomplished the end, for he had unconsciously watched
+the two men in what could hardly be called a fight, though he could not
+see their faces, and a more murderous pair of ruffians he had never
+seen. Men not well used to such deeds could not have done them at all,
+thought Zorzi, as he was borne along, his breath almost shaken out of
+him by the strong man's movements.
+
+All was quiet, as they passed the glass-house, and no one was looking
+out, for Giovanni's wife feared him far too much to seem to be spying
+upon his doings, and the servants were discreet. Only Nella, hiding
+behind the flowers in Marietta's window, and supposing that Marietta was
+with her sister-in-law, was watching the door of the glass-house to see
+when Giovanni would come out. She now heard the steps of the two men,
+running down the footway. The rescue had taken place too far away for
+her to hear anything but a splash in the canal. She saw that one of the
+men was carrying what seemed to be the body of a man. She instinctively
+crossed herself, as they ran on towards the end of the canal, and when
+she could see them no longer in the shadow, she drew back into the room,
+momentarily forgetting Giovanni, and already running over in her head
+the wonderful conversation she was going to have with her mistress as
+soon as the young girl came back to her room.
+
+Pasquale, meanwhile, withdrew his feet from the old leathern slippers he
+wore, and noiselessly stole down the corridor and along the garden path,
+to find out what Giovanni was doing. When he came to the laboratory, he
+saw that the window was now shut, as well as the door, and that Giovanni
+had set the lamp on the floor behind the further end of the annealing
+oven. Its bright light shot upwards to the dark ceiling, leaving the
+front of the laboratory almost in the dark. Pasquale listened and he
+heard the sharp tapping of a hammer on stone. He understood at once that
+Giovanni had shut himself in to search for something, and would
+therefore be busy some time.
+
+Without noise he crossed the garden to the entrance of the main furnace
+room and went into the passage.
+
+"Come out quickly!" he whispered, as his seaman's eyes made out
+Marietta's figure in a gloom that would have been total darkness to a
+landsman; and he took hold of the girl's arm to lead her away.
+
+"Your brother is in the laboratory, and will not come out," he
+whispered. "By this time Zorzi may be safe."
+
+"Safe!" She spoke the word aloud, in her relief.
+
+"Hush, for heaven's sake. The door is open. You can get home now without
+being seen. Make no noise."
+
+She followed him quickly. They had to cross the patch of dim light in
+the garden, and she glanced at the closed window of the laboratory. It
+had all happened as Zorzi had foreseen, and Giovanni was already
+searching for the manuscript. The only thing she could not understand
+was that Zorzi should have escaped the archers. Even as she crossed the
+garden, the two man were passing the door, bearing Zorzi he knew not
+where, but away from the nearest danger. A moment later she was on the
+footway, hurrying towards the bridge. Pasquale stood watching her, to be
+sure that she was safe, and he glanced up at the windows, too, fearing
+lest some one might still be looking out.
+
+But chance had saved Marietta this time. She carefully barred the side
+door after she had gone in, and groped her way up the dark stairs. On
+the landing there was light from below, and she paused for breath, her
+bosom heaving as she leaned a moment on the balustrade. She passed one
+hand over her brows, as if to bring herself back to present
+consciousness, and then went quickly on.
+
+"Safe," she repeated under her breath as she went, "safe, safe, safe!"
+
+It was to give herself courage, for she could hardly believe it, though
+she knew that Pasquale would not deceive her and must have some strong
+good reason for what he said. There had not been time to question him.
+
+All he knew himself was that a man whose face he could not see had
+whispered to him that Zorzi was in no danger. But he had recognised the
+other man who had gone up the footway first, in spite of his short cloak
+and hood, and he felt well assured that Charalambos Aristarchi could
+throw the officer and his six men into the canal without anybody's help,
+if he chose, though why the Greek ruffian was suddenly inspired to
+interfere on Zorzi's behalf was a mystery past his comprehension.
+
+Marietta entered her room, and Nella, who had been revelling in the
+coming conversation, was suddenly very busy, stirring the drink of lime
+flowers which Marietta had ordered. She was so sure that her mistress
+had been all the time in the house, and so anxious not to have it
+thought that she could possibly have been idle, even for a moment, that
+she looked intently into the cup and stirred the contents in a most
+conscientious manner. Marietta turned from her almost immediately and
+began to undo the braids of hair, that Nella might comb it out and plait
+it again for the night. Nella immediately began to talk, and to tell all
+that she had seen from the window, with many other things which she had
+not seen.
+
+"But of course you were looking out, too," she said presently. "They
+were all at the windows for some time."
+
+"No," Marietta answered. "I was not looking out."
+
+"Well, it was to-night, and not to-morrow, you see. Do you think the
+Governor is stupid? If he had waited till to-morrow, we should have told
+Zorzi. Poor Zorzi! I saw them taking him away, loaded with chains."
+
+"In chains!" cried Marietta, starting painfully.
+
+"I could not see the chains," continued Nella apologetically, "but I am
+sure they were there. It was too dark to see. Poor Zorzi! Poor Zorzi! By
+this time he is in the prison under the Governor's house, and he wishes
+that he had never been born. A little straw, a little water! That is all
+he has."
+
+Marietta moved in her chair, as if something hurt her, but she knew that
+it would be unwise to stop the woman's talk. Besides, Nella was
+evidently sorry for Zorzi, though she thought his arrest very
+interesting. She went on for a long time, combing more and more slowly,
+after the manner of talkative maids, when they fear that their work may
+be finished before their story. But for Pasquale's reassuring words,
+Marietta felt that she must have gone mad. Zorzi was safe, somewhere,
+and he was not in the Governor's prison, on the straw. She told herself
+so again and again as Nella went on.
+
+"There is one thing I did not tell you," said the latter, with a sudden
+increase of vigour at the thought.
+
+"I think you have told me enough, Nella," said Marietta wearily. "I am
+very tired."
+
+"You cannot go to bed till I have plaited your hair," answered Nella
+mercilessly, but at the same time laying down the comb. "Just before you
+came in, I was looking out of the window. It was just an accident, for I
+was very busy with your things, of course. Well, as I was saying, in
+passing I happened to glance out of the window, and I saw--guess what I
+saw, my pretty lady!"
+
+Marietta trembled, thinking that Nella had seen her, and perhaps
+recognised her, and was about to bring her garrulous tale to a dramatic
+climax by telling her so.
+
+"Perhaps you saw a woman," she suggested desperately.
+
+"A woman indeed!" cried Nella. "That must be a nice woman who would be
+seen in the street at such a time of night, and the Governor's archers
+there, too! Woman? I would not look at such a woman, I tell you! No.
+What I saw was this, since you cannot guess. There came two big men,
+running fast, and they were carrying a dead body between them! Eh! They
+were at no good, I tell you. One could see that."
+
+Marietta could bear no more, now. She bent her head and bit her finger
+to keep herself from crying out.
+
+"If you will not be still, how in the world am I to plait your hair?"
+asked Nella querulously.
+
+"Do it quickly, please," Marietta succeeded in saying. "I am so very
+tired to-night."
+
+Her head bent still further forward.
+
+"Indeed," said Nella, much annoyed that her tale should not have been
+received with more interest, "you seem to be half asleep already."
+
+But Nella was much too truly attached to her mistress not to feel some
+anxiety when she saw her white face and noticed how uncertainly she
+walked. Nella had her in bed at last, however, and gave her more of the
+soothing drink, smoothed the cool pillow under her head, looked round
+the room to see that all was in order before going away, then took the
+lamp and at last went out.
+
+"Good night, my pretty lady," said Nella cheerfully from the door, "good
+rest and pleasant dreams!"
+
+She was gone at last, and she would not come back before morning.
+
+Marietta sat up in bed in the dark and pressed her hands to her temples
+in utter despair.
+
+"I shall go mad! I shall go mad!" she whispered to herself.
+
+She remembered that she had left her light silk mantle in the
+laboratory, on the great chair.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+
+Aristarchi's interference to rescue Zorzi had not been disinterested,
+and so far as justice was concerned he was quite ready to believe that
+the Dalmatian had done all the things of which he was accused. The fact
+was not of the slightest importance in the situation. It was much more
+to the point that in the complicated and dangerous plan which the Greek
+captain and Arisa were carrying out, Zorzi could be of use to them,
+without his own knowledge. As has been told, the two had decided that he
+was in love with Marietta, and she with him. The rest followed
+naturally.
+
+After meeting his father and telling him Giovanni's story, Jacopo
+Contarini had gone to the house of the Agnus Dei for an hour, and during
+that time he had told Arisa everything, according to his wont. No sooner
+was he gone than Arisa made the accustomed signal and Aristarchi
+appeared at her window, for it was then already night. He judged rightly
+that there was no time to be lost, and having stopped at his house to
+take his trusted man, the two rowed themselves over to Murano, and were
+watching the glass-house from, a distance, fully half an hour before the
+archers appeared.
+
+The officer and his men came to their senses, one by one, bruised and
+terrified. The man who had been thrown into the shallow canal got upon
+his feet, standing up to his waist in the water, sputtering and coughing
+from the ducking. Before he tried to gain the shore, he crossed himself
+three times and repeated all the prayers he could remember, in a great
+hurry, for he was of opinion that Satan must still be in the
+neighbourhood. It was not possible that any earthly being should have
+picked him up like a puppy and flung him fully ten feet from the spot
+where he had been standing. He struggled to the bank, his feet sinking
+at each step in the slimy bottom; and after that he was forced to wade
+some thirty yards to the stairs in front of San Piero before he could
+get out of the water, a miserable object, drenched from head to foot and
+coated with black mud from his knees down. Yet he was in a better case
+than his companions.
+
+They came to themselves slowly, the officer last of all, for
+Aristarchi's blow under the jaw had nearly killed him, whereas the other
+five men had only received stunning blows on different parts of their
+thick skulls. In half an hour they were all on their feet, though some
+of them were very unsteady, and in a forlorn train they made the best of
+their way back to the Governor's palace. Their discomfiture had been so
+sudden and complete that none of them had any idea as to the number of
+their assailants; but most of them agreed that as they came within sight
+of the church, Zorzi had slackened his pace, and that an unholy fire
+had issued from his eyes, his mouth and his nostrils, while he made
+strange signs in the air with his crutch, and suddenly grew to a
+gigantic stature. The devils who were his companions had immediately
+appeared in great numbers, and though the archers had fought against
+their supernatural adversaries with the courage of heroes, they had been
+struck down senseless where they stood; and when they had recovered
+their sight and their other understanding, Zorzi had long since vanished
+to the kingdom of darkness which was his natural abode.
+
+Those things the officer told the Governor on the next day, and the men
+solemnly swore to them, and they were all written down by the official
+scribe. But the Governor raised one eyebrow a little, and the corners of
+his mouth twitched strangely, though he made no remark upon what had
+been said. He remembered, however, that Giovanni had advised him to send
+a very strong force to arrest the lame young man, from which he argued
+that Zorzi had powerful friends, and that Giovanni knew it. He then
+visited the scene of the fight, and saw that there were drops of blood
+on dry stones, which was not astonishing and which gave no clue whatever
+to the identity of the rescuers. He pointed out quietly to his guide,
+the man who had only received a ducking, that there were no signs of
+fire on the pavement nor on the walls of the houses, which was a strong
+argument against any theory of diabolical intervention; and this the man
+was reluctantly obliged to admit. The strangest thing, however, was
+that the people who lived near by seemed to have heard no noise, though
+one old man, who slept badly, believed that he had heard the clatter of
+wood and iron falling together, and then a splashing in the canal; and
+indeed those were almost the only sounds that had disturbed the night.
+The whole affair was shrouded in mystery, and the Governor, who knew
+that his men were to be trusted as far as their limited intelligence
+could go, resolved to refer the matter to the Council of Ten without
+delay. He therefore bade the archers hold their tongues and refuse to
+talk of their misadventure.
+
+On that night Giovanni had suffered the greatest disappointment he
+remembered in his whole life. He had found without much trouble the
+stone that rang hollow, but it had cost him great pains to lift it, and
+the sweat ran down from his forehead and dropped upon the slab as he
+slowly got it up. His heart beat so that he fancied he could hear it,
+both from the effort he made, and from his intense excitement, now that
+the thing he had most desired in the world was within his grasp. At last
+the big stone was raised upright, and the light of the lamp that stood
+on the floor fell slanting across the dark hole. Giovanni brought the
+lamp to the edge and looked in. He could not see the box, but a quantity
+of loose earth lay there, under which it was doubtless buried. He knelt
+down and began to scoop the earth out, using his two hands together.
+Then he thrust one hand in, and felt about for the box. There was
+nothing there. He cleared out the cavity thoroughly, and tried to loosen
+the soil at the bottom, tearing his nails in his excitement. It must be
+there, he was sure.
+
+But it was not. When he realised that he had been tricked, he collapsed,
+kneeling as he was, and sat upon his heels, and his crooked hands all
+dark with the dusty earth clutched at the stones beside him. He remained
+thus a long time, staring at the empty hole. Then caution, which was
+even stronger in his nature than greed, brought him to himself. His thin
+face was grey and haggard as he carefully swept the earth back to its
+place, removing all traces of what he had done. Then he knew how foolish
+he had been to let Zorzi know what he had partly heard and partly
+guessed.
+
+Of course, as soon as Zorzi understood that Giovanni had found out where
+the book was, he had taken it out and put it away in a safer place, to
+which Giovanni had no clue at all. Zorzi was diabolically clever, and
+would not have been so foolish as to hide the treasure again in the same
+room or in the same way. It was probably in the garden now, but it would
+take a strong man a day or two to dig up all the earth there to the
+depth at which the book must have been buried. Zorzi must have done the
+work at night, after the furnaces were out, and when there were no night
+boys to watch him. But then, the boys had been feeding the fires in the
+laboratory until the previous night, and it followed that he must have
+bailed the box this very evening.
+
+Giovanni got the slab back into its place without injuring it, and he
+rubbed the edges with dust, and swept the place with a broom, as Zorzi
+had done twice already. Then he took the lamp and set it on the table
+before the window. The light fell on the gold piece that lay there. He
+took it, examined it carefully, and slipped it into his wallet with a
+sort of mechanical chuckle. He glanced at the furnace next, and
+recollected that the precious pieces Zorzi had made were in the
+annealing oven. But that did not matter, for the fires would now go out
+and the whole furnace would slowly cool, so that the annealing would be
+very perfect. No one but he could enter the laboratory, now that Zorzi
+was gone, and he could take the pieces to his own house at his leisure.
+They were substantial proofs of Zorzi's wickedness in breaking the laws
+of Venice, however, and it would perhaps be wiser to leave them where
+they were, until the Governor should take cognizance of their existence.
+
+His first disappointment turned to redoubled hatred of the man who had
+caused it, and whom it was safer to hate now than formerly, since he was
+in the clutches of the law; moreover, the defeat of Giovanni's hopes was
+by no means final, after the first shock was over. He could make an
+excuse for having the garden dug over, on pretence of improving it
+during his father's absence; the more easily, as he had learned that the
+garden had always been under Zorzi's care, and must now be cultivated
+by some one else. Giovanni did not believe it possible that the precious
+box had been taken away altogether. It was therefore near, and he could
+find it, and there would be plenty of time before his father's return.
+Nevertheless, he looked about the laboratory and went into the small
+room where Zorzi had slept. There was water there, and Spanish soap, and
+he washed his hands carefully, and brushed the dust from his coat and
+from the knees of his fine black hose. He knew that his patient wife
+would be waiting for him when he went back to the house.
+
+He searched Zorzi's room carefully, but could find nothing. An earthen
+jar containing broken white glass stood in one corner. The narrow
+truckle-bed, with its single thin mattress and flattened pillow, all
+neat and trim, could not have hidden anything. On a line stretched
+across from wall to wall a few clothes were hanging--a pair of
+disconsolate brown hose, the waistband on the one side of the line
+hanging down to meet the feet on the other, two clean shirts, and a
+Sunday doublet. On the wall a cap with a black eagle's feather hung by a
+nail. Here and there on the white plaster, Zorzi had roughly sketched
+with a bit of charcoal some pieces of glass which he had thought of
+making. That was all. The floor was paved with bricks, and a short
+examination showed that none of them had been moved.
+
+Giovanni turned back into the laboratory, stood a moment looking
+disconsolately at the big stone which it had cost him so much fruitless
+labour to move, and then passed round by the other side of the furnace,
+along the wall against which the bench and the easy chair were placed.
+His eye fell on Marietta's silk mantle, which lay as when it had slipped
+down from her shoulders, the skirts of it trailing on the floor. His
+brows contracted suddenly. He came nearer, felt the stuff, and was sure
+that he recognised it. Then he looked at it, as it lay. It had the
+unmistakable appearance of having been left, as it had been, by the
+person who had last sat in the chair.
+
+Two explanations of the presence of the mantle in the laboratory
+suggested themselves to him at once, but the idea that Marietta could
+herself have been seated in the chair not long ago was so absurd that he
+at once adopted the other. Zorzi had stolen the mantle, and used it for
+himself in the evening, confident that no one would see him. To-night he
+had been surprised and had left it in the chair, another and perhaps a
+crowning proof of his atrocious crimes. Was he not a thief, as well as a
+liar and an assassin? Giovanni knew well enough that the law would
+distinguish between stealing the art of glass-making, which was merely a
+civil offence, though a grave one, and stealing a mantle of silk which
+he estimated to be worth at least two or three pieces of gold. That was
+theft, and it was criminal, and it was one of many crimes which Zorzi
+had undoubtedly committed. The hangman would twist the rest out of him
+with the rack and the iron boot, thought Giovanni gleefully. The
+Governor should see the mantle with his own eyes.
+
+Before he went away, he was careful to fasten the window securely
+inside, and he locked the door after him, taking the key. He carried the
+brass lamp with him, for the corridor was very dark and the night was
+quite still.
+
+Pasquale was seated on the edge of his box-bed in his little lodge when
+Giovanni came to the door. He was more like a big and very ugly
+watch-dog crouching in his kennel than anything else.
+
+"Let no one try to go into the laboratory," said Giovanni, setting down
+the lamp. "I have locked it myself."
+
+Pasquale snarled something incomprehensible, by way of reply, and rose
+to let Giovanni out. He noticed that the latter had brought nothing but
+the lamp with him. When the door was open Pasquale looked across at the
+house, and saw that although there was still light in some of the other
+windows, Marietta's window was now dark. She was safe in bed, for
+Giovanni's search had occupied more than an hour.
+
+Marietta might have breathed somewhat more freely if she had known that
+her brother did not even suspect her of having been to the laboratory,
+but the knowledge would have been more than balanced by a still greater
+anxiety if she had been told that Zorzi could be accused of a common
+theft.
+
+She sat up in the dark and pressed her throbbing temples with her hands.
+She thought, if she thought at all, of getting up again and going back
+to the glass-house. Pasquale would let her in, of course, and she could
+get the mantle back. But there was Nella, in the next room, and Nella
+seemed to be always awake, and would hear her stirring and come in to
+know if she wanted anything. Besides, she was in the dark. The night
+light burned always in Nella's room, a tiny wick supported by a bit of
+split cork in an earthen cup of oil, most carefully tended, for if it
+went out, it could only be lighted by going down to the hall where a
+large lamp burned all night.
+
+Marietta laid her head upon the pillow and tried to sleep, repeating
+over and over again to herself that Zorzi was safe. But for a long time
+the thought of the mantle haunted her. Giovanni had found it, of course,
+and had brought it back with him. In the morning he would send for her
+and demand an explanation, and she would have none to give. She would
+have to admit that she had been in the laboratory--it mattered little
+when--and that she had forgotten her mantle there. It would be useless
+to deny it.
+
+Then all at once she looked the future in the face, and she saw a little
+light. She would refuse to answer Giovanni's questions, and when her
+father came back she would tell him everything. She would tell him
+bravely that nothing could make her marry Contarini, that she loved
+Zorzi and would marry him, or no one. The mantle would probably be
+forgotten in the angry discussion that would follow. She hoped so, for
+even her father would never forgive her for having gone alone at night
+to find Zorzi. If he ever found it out, he would make her spend the rest
+of her life in a convent, and it would break his heart that she should
+have thus cast all shame to the winds and brought disgrace on his old
+age. It never occurred to her that he could look upon it in any other
+way.
+
+She dreaded to think of the weeks that might pass before he returned. He
+had spoken of making a long journey and she knew that he had gone
+southward to Rimini to please the great Sigismondo Malatesta, who had
+heard of Beroviero's stained glass windows and mosaics in Florence and
+Naples, and would not be outdone in the possession of beautiful things.
+But no one knew more than that. She was only sure that he would come
+back some time before her intended marriage, and there would still be
+time to break it off. The thought gave her some comfort, and toward
+morning she fell into an uneasy sleep. Of all who had played a part in
+that eventful night she slept the least, for she had the most at stake;
+her fair name, Zorzi's safety, her whole future life were in the
+balance, and she was sure that Giovanni would send for her in the
+morning.
+
+She awoke weary and unrefreshed when the sun was already high. She
+scarcely had energy to clap her hands for Nella, and after the window
+was open she still lay listlessly on her pillow. The little woman looked
+at her rather anxiously but said nothing at first, setting the big dish
+with fruit and water on the table as usual, and busying herself with her
+mistress's clothes. She opened the great carved wardrobe, and she hung
+up some things and took out others, in a methodical way.
+
+"Where is your silk mantle?" she asked suddenly, as she missed the
+garment from its accustomed place.
+
+"I do not know," answered Marietta quite naturally, for she had expected
+the question.
+
+Her reply was literally true, since she had every reason for believing
+that Giovanni had brought it back with him in the night, but could have
+no idea as to where he had put it. Nella began to search anxiously,
+turning over everything in the wardrobe and the few things that hung
+over the chairs.
+
+"You could not have put it into the chest, could you?" she asked,
+pausing at the foot of the bed and looking at Marietta.
+
+"No. I am sure I did not," answered the girl. "I never do."
+
+"Then it has been stolen," said Nella, and her face darkened wrathfully.
+
+"How is such a thing possible?" asked Marietta carelessly. "It must be
+somewhere."
+
+This appeared to be certain, but Nella denied it with energy, her eyes
+fixed on Marietta almost as angrily as if she suspected her of having
+stolen her own mantle from herself.
+
+"I tell you it is not," she replied. "I have looked everywhere. It has
+been stolen."
+
+"Have you looked in your own room?" inquired Marietta indifferently, and
+turning her head on her pillow, as if she were tired of meeting Nella's
+eyes, as indeed she was.
+
+"My own room indeed!" cried the maid indignantly. "As if I did not know
+what is in my own room! As if your new silk mantle could hide itself
+amongst my four rags!"
+
+Why Nella and her kind, to this day, use the number four in contempt,
+rather than three or five, is a mystery of what one might call the
+psychical side of the Italian language. Marietta did not answer.
+
+"It has been stolen," Nella repeated, with gloomy emphasis. "I trust no
+one in this house, since your brother and his wife have been here, with
+their servants."
+
+"My sister-in-law was obliged to bring one of her women," objected
+Marietta.
+
+"She need not have brought that sour-faced shrew, who walks about the
+house all day repeating the rosary and poking her long nose into what
+does not belong to her. But I am not afraid of the Signor Giovanni. I
+will tell the housekeeper that your mantle has been stolen, and all the
+women's belongings shall be searched before dinner, and we shall find
+the mantle in that evil person's box."
+
+"You must do nothing of the sort," answered Marietta in a tone of
+authority.
+
+She sat up in bed at last, and threw the thick braid of hair behind her,
+as every woman does when her hair is down, if she means to assert
+herself.
+
+"Ah," cried Nella mockingly, "I see that you are content to lose your
+best things without looking for them! Then let us throw everything out
+of the window at once! We shall make a fine figure!"
+
+"I will speak to my brother about it myself," said Marietta.
+
+Indeed she thought it extremely likely that Giovanni would oblige her to
+speak of it within an hour.
+
+"You will only make trouble among the servants," she added.
+
+"Oh, as you please!" snorted Nella discontentedly. "I only tell you that
+I know who took it. That is all. Please to remember that I said so, when
+it is too late. And as for trouble, there is not one of us in the house
+who would not like to be searched for the sake of sending your
+sister-in-law's maid to prison, where she belongs!"
+
+"Nella," said Marietta, "I do not care a straw about the mantle. I want
+you to do something very important. I am sure that Zorzi has been
+arrested unjustly, and I do not believe that the Governor will keep him
+in prison. Can you not get your friend the gondolier to go to the
+Governor's palace before mid-day, and ask whether Zorzi is to be let
+out?"
+
+"Of course I can. By and by I will call him. He is busy cleaning the
+gondola now."
+
+Marietta had spoken quite quietly, though she had expected that her
+voice would shake, and she had been almost sure that she was going to
+blush. But nothing so dreadful happened, though she had prepared for it
+by turning her back on Nella. She sat on the edge of the bed, slowly
+feeling her way into her little yellow leathern slippers. It was a
+relief to know that even now she could speak of Zorzi without giving any
+outward sign of emotion, and she felt a little encouraged, as she began
+the dreaded day.
+
+She took a long time in dressing, for she expected at every moment that
+her sister-in-law's maid would knock at the door with a message from
+Giovanni, bidding her come to him before he went out. But no one came,
+though it was already past the hour at which he usually left the house.
+All at once she heard his unmistakable voice through the open window,
+and on looking out through the flowers she saw him standing at the open
+door of the glass-house, talking with the porter, or rather, giving
+instructions about the garden which Pasquale received in surly silence.
+
+Marietta listened in surprise. It seemed impossible that Giovanni should
+not take her to task at once if he had found the mantle. He was not the
+kind of man to put off accusing any one when he had proof of guilt and
+was sure that the law was on his side, and Marietta felt sure that the
+evidence against her was overwhelming, for she had yet to learn what
+amazing things can be done with impunity by people who have the
+reputation of perfect innocence.
+
+Giovanni was telling Pasquale, in a tone which every one might hear,
+that he had sent for a gardener, who would soon come with a lad to help
+him, that the two must be admitted at once, and that he himself would
+be within to receive them; but that no one else was to be allowed to go
+in, as he should be extremely busy all the morning. Having said these
+things three or four times over, in order to impress them on Pasquale's
+mind, he went in. The porter looked up at Marietta's window a moment,
+and then followed him and shut the door. It was clear that Giovanni had
+no intention of speaking to his sister before the mid-day meal. She
+breathed more freely, since she was to have a respite of several hours.
+
+When she was dressed, Nella called the gondolier from her own window,
+and met him in the passage when he came up. He at once promised to make
+inquiries about Zorzi and went off to the palace to find his friend and
+crony, the Governor's head boatman. The latter, it is needless to say,
+knew every detail of the supernatural rescue from the archers, who could
+talk of nothing else in spite of the Governor's prohibition. They sat in
+a row on the stone bench within the main entrance, a rueful crew, their
+heads bound up with a pleasing variety of bandages. In an hour the
+gondolier returned, laden with the wonderful story which Nella was the
+first, but not the last, to hear from him. Her brown eyes seemed to be
+starting from her head when she came back to tell it to her mistress.
+
+Marietta listened with a beating heart, though Nella began at once by
+saying that Zorzi had mysteriously disappeared, and was certainly not in
+prison. When all was told, she drew a long breath, and wished that she
+could be alone to think over what she had heard; but Nella's imagination
+was roused, and she was prepared to discuss the affair all the morning.
+The details of it had become more and more numerous and circumstantial,
+as the men with the bandaged heads recalled what they had seen and
+heard. The devils that had delivered Zorzi all had blue noses, brass
+teeth and fiery tails. A peculiarity of theirs was that they had six
+fingers with six iron claws on each hand, and that all their hoofs were
+red-hot. As to their numbers, they might be roughly estimated at a
+thousand or so, and their roaring was like the howling of the south wind
+and the breaking of the sea on the Lido in a winter storm. It was
+horrible to hear, and would alone have put all the armies of the
+Republic to ignominious flight. Nella thought these things very
+interesting. She wished that she might talk with one of the men who had
+seen a real devil.
+
+"I do not believe a word of all that nonsense," said Marietta. "The most
+important thing is that Zorzi got away from them and is not in prison."
+
+"If he escaped by selling his soul to the fiends," said Nella, shaking
+her head, "it is a very evil thing."
+
+Her mistress's disbelief in the blue noses and fiery tails was
+disconcerting, and had a chilling effect on Nella's talkative mood. The
+gondolier had crossed the bridge, to tell his story to Pasquale, whose
+view of the case seemed to differ from Nella's. He listened with
+approving interest, but without comment, until the gondolier had
+finished.
+
+"I could tell you many such stories," he said. "Things of this kind
+often happen at sea."
+
+"Really!" exclaimed the gondolier, who was only a boatman and regarded
+real sailors with a sort of professional reverence.
+
+"Yes," answered Pasquale. "Especially on Sundays. You must know that
+when the priests are all saying mass, and the people are all praying,
+the devils cannot bear it, and are driven out to sea for the day. Very
+strange things happen then, I assure you. Some day I will tell you how
+the boatswain of a ship I once sailed in rove the end of the devil's
+tail through a link of the chain, made a Flemish knot at the end to stop
+it, and let go the anchor. So the devil went to the bottom by the run.
+We unshackled the chain and wore the ship to the wind, and after that we
+had fair weather to the end of the voyage. It happened on a Sunday."
+
+"Marvellous!" cried the gondolier. "I should like to hear the whole
+story! But if you will allow me, I will go in and tell the Signor
+Giovanni what has happened, for he does not know yet."
+
+Pasquale grinned as he stood in the doorway.
+
+"He has given strict orders that no one is to be admitted this morning,
+as he is very busy."
+
+"But this is a very important matter," argued the gondolier, who wished
+to have the pleasure of telling the tale.
+
+"I cannot help it," answered Pasquale. "Those are his orders, and I must
+obey them. You know what his temper is, when he is not pleased."
+
+Just then a skiff came up the canal at a great rate, so that the quick
+strokes of the oar attracted the men's attention. They saw that the boat
+was one of those that could be hired everywhere in Venice. The oarsman
+backed water with a strong stroke and brought to at the steps before the
+glass-house.
+
+"Are you not Messer Angelo Beroviero's gondolier?" he inquired civilly.
+
+"Yes," answered the man addressed, "I am the head gondolier, at your
+service."
+
+"Thank you," replied the boatman. "I am to tell you that Messer Angelo
+has just arrived in Venice by sea, from Rimini, on board the _Santa
+Lucia_, a Neapolitan galliot now at anchor in the Giudecca. He desires
+you to bring his gondola at once to fetch him, and I am to bring over
+his baggage in my skiff."
+
+The gondolier uttered an exclamation of surprise, and then turned to
+Pasquale.
+
+"I go," he said. "Will you tell the Signor Giovanni that his father is
+coming home?"
+
+Pasquale grinned again. He was rarely in such a pleasant humour.
+
+"Certainly not," he answered. "The Signor Giovanni is very busy, and has
+given strict orders that he is not to be disturbed on any account."
+
+"That is your affair," said the gondolier, hurrying away.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+
+A little more than an hour later, the gondola came back and stopped
+alongside the steps of the house. The gondolier had made such haste to
+obey the summons that he had not thought of going into the house to give
+the servants warning, and as most of the shutters were already drawn
+together against the heat, no one had been looking out when he went
+away. He had asked Pasquale to tell the young master, and that was all
+that could be expected of him. There was therefore great surprise in the
+household when Angelo Beroviero went up the steps of his house, and his
+own astonishment that no one should be there to receive him was almost
+as great. The gondolier explained, and told him what Pasquale had said.
+
+It was enough to rouse the old man's suspicions at once. He had left
+Zorzi in charge of the laboratory, enjoining upon him not to encourage
+Giovanni to go there; but now Giovanni was shut up there, presumably
+with Zorzi, and had given orders that he was not to be disturbed. The
+gondolier had not dared to say anything about the Dalmatian's arrest,
+and Beroviero was quite ignorant of all that had happened. He was not a
+man who hesitated when his suspicions or his temper were at work, and
+now he turned, without even entering his home, and crossed the bridge
+to the glass-house. Pasquale was looking through the grating and saw him
+coming, and was ready to receive him at the open door. For the third
+time on that morning, he grinned from ear to ear. Beroviero was pleased
+by the silent welcome of his old and trusted servant.
+
+"You seem glad to see me again," he said, laying his hand kindly on the
+old porter's arm as he passed in.
+
+"Others will be glad, too," was the answer.
+
+As he went down the corridor Beroviero heard the sound of spades
+striking into the earth and shovelling it away. The gardener and his lad
+had been at work nearly two hours, and had turned up most of the earth
+in the little flower-beds to a depth of two or three feet during that
+time, while Giovanni sat motionless under the plane-tree, watching every
+movement of their spades. He rose nervously when he heard footsteps in
+the corridor, for he did not wish any one to find him seated there,
+apparently watching a most commonplace operation with profound interest.
+He had made a step towards the door of the laboratory, when he saw his
+father emerge from the dark passage. He was a coward, and he trembled
+from head to foot, his teeth chattered in his head, and the cold sweat
+moistened his forehead in an instant. The old man stood still four or
+five paces from him and looked from him to the men who had been digging.
+On seeing the master they stopped working and pulled off their knitted
+caps. As a further sign of respect they wiped their dripping faces with
+their shirt sleeves.
+
+"What are you doing here?" asked Beroviero in a tone of displeasure.
+"The garden was very well as it was."
+
+"I--I thought," stammered Giovanni, "that it would--that it might be
+better to dig it--"
+
+"It would not be better," answered the old man. "You may go," he added,
+speaking to the men, who were glad enough to be dismissed.
+
+Beroviero passed his son without further words and tried the door of the
+laboratory, but found it locked.
+
+"What is this?" he asked angrily. "Where is Zorzi? I told him not to
+leave you here alone."
+
+"You had great confidence in him," answered Giovanni, recovering himself
+a little. "He is in prison."
+
+He took the key from his wallet and thrust it into the lock as he spoke.
+
+"In prison!" cried Beroviero in a loud voice. "What do you mean?"
+
+Giovanni held the door open for him.
+
+"I will tell you all about Zorzi, if you will come in," he said.
+
+Beroviero entered, stood still a moment and looked about. Everything was
+as Zorzi had left it, but the glass-maker's ear missed the low roar of
+the furnace. Instinctively he made a step towards the latter, extending
+his hand to see whether it was already cold, but at that moment he
+caught sight of the silk mantle in the chair. He glanced quickly at his
+son.
+
+"Has Marietta been here with you this morning?" he asked sharply.
+
+"Oh no!" answered Giovanni contemptuously. "Zorzi stole that thing and
+had not time to hide it when they arrested him last night. I left it
+just where it was, that the Governor might see it."
+
+Beroviero's face changed slowly. His fiery brown eyes began to show a
+dangerous light and he stroked his long beard quickly, twisting it a
+little each time.
+
+"If you say that Zorzi stole Marietta's silk mantle," he said slowly,
+"you are either a fool or a liar."
+
+"You are my father," answered Giovanni in some perturbation. "I cannot
+answer you."
+
+Beroviero was silent for a long time. He took the mantle from the chair,
+examined it and assured himself that it was Marietta's own and no other.
+Then he carefully folded it up and laid it on the bench. His brows were
+contracted as if he were in great pain, and his face was pale, but his
+eyes were still angry.
+
+Giovanni knew the signs of his father's wrath and dared not speak to him
+yet..
+
+"Is this the evidence on which you have had my man arrested?" asked
+Beroviero, sitting down in the big chair and fixing his gaze on his son.
+
+"By no means," answered Giovanni, with all the coolness he could
+command. "If it pleases you to hear my story from the beginning I will
+tell you all. If you do not hear all, you cannot possibly understand."
+
+"I am listening," said old Beroviero, leaning back and laying his hands
+on the broad wooden arms of the chair.
+
+"I shall tell you everything, exactly as it happened," said Giovanni,
+"and I swear that it is all true."
+
+Beroviero reflected that in his experience this was usually the way in
+which liars introduced their accounts of events. For truth is like a
+work of genius: it carries conviction with it at once, and therefore
+needs no recommendation, nor other artificial support.
+
+"After you left," Giovanni continued, "I came here one morning, out of
+pure friendliness to Zorzi, and as we talked I chanced to look at those
+things on the shelf. When I admired them, he admitted rather reluctantly
+that he had made them, and other things which you have in your house."
+
+Beroviero gravely nodded his assent to the statement.
+
+"I asked him to make me something," Giovanni went on to say, "but he
+told me that he had no white glass in the furnace, and that what was
+there was the result of your experiments."
+
+Again Beroviero bent his head.
+
+"So I asked him to bring his blow-pipe to the main furnace room, where
+they were still working at that time, and we went there together. He at
+once made a very beautiful piece, and was just finishing it when a bad
+accident happened to him. Another man let his blow-pipe fly from his
+hand and it fell upon Zorzi's foot with a large lump of hot glass."
+
+Beroviero looked keenly at Giovanni.
+
+"You know as well as I that it could not have been an accident," he
+said. "It was done out of spite."
+
+"That may be," replied Giovanni, "for the men do not like him, as you
+know. But Zorzi accepted it as being an accident, and said so. He was
+badly hurt, and is still lame. Nella dressed the wound, and then
+Marietta came with her."
+
+"Are you sure Marietta came here?" asked Beroviero, growing paler.
+
+"Quite sure. They were on their way here together early in the morning
+when I stopped them, and asked Marietta where she was going, and she
+boldly said she was going to see Zorzi. I could not prevent her, and I
+saw them both go in."
+
+"Do you mean to say that although Zorzi was so badly hurt you did not
+have him brought to the house?"
+
+"Of course I proposed that at once," Giovanni answered. "But he said
+that he would not leave the furnace."
+
+"That was like him," said old Beroviero.
+
+"He knew what he was doing. It was on that same day that a night boy
+told me how he had seen you and Zorzi burying something in the
+laboratory the night before you left."
+
+Beroviero started and leaned forward. Giovanni smiled thoughtfully, for
+he saw how his father was moved, and he knew that the strongest part of
+his story was yet untold.
+
+"It would have been better to leave Paolo Godi's manuscript with me," he
+said, in a tone of sympathy. "I grew anxious for its safety as soon as I
+knew that Zorzi had charge of it. Yesterday morning I came in again.
+Zorzi was sitting on the working-stool, finishing a beautiful beaker of
+white glass."
+
+"White glass?" repeated Beroviero in evident surprise. "White glass?
+Here?"
+
+"Yes," answered Giovanni, enjoying his triumph. "I pointed out that when
+I had last come, there had been no white glass in the furnace. He
+answered that as one of the experiments had produced a beautiful red
+colour which he thought must be valuable, he had removed the crucible.
+He also showed me a specimen of it."
+
+"Is it here?" asked Beroviero anxiously. "Where is it?"
+
+Giovanni took the specimen from the table, for Zorzi had left it lying
+there, and he handed it to his father. The latter took it, held it up to
+the light, and uttered an exclamation of astonishment and anger.
+
+"There is only one way of making that," he said, without hesitation.
+
+"Yes," Giovanni answered coolly. "I supposed it was made according to
+one of your secrets."
+
+A quick look was the only reply to this speech. Giovanni continued.
+
+"I asked him to sell me the piece of glass he had been making when he
+came in, and at first he pretended that he was not sure whether you
+would allow it, but at last he took a piece of gold for it, and I was to
+have it as soon as it was annealed. When you see it, you will understand
+why I was so anxious to get it."
+
+"Where is it?" asked the old man. "Show it to me."
+
+Giovanni went to the other end of the annealing oven, and came back a
+moment later carrying the iron tray on which stood the pieces Zorzi had
+made on the previous morning. Beroviero looked at them critically, tried
+their weight, and noticed their transparency.
+
+"That is not my glass," he said in a tone of decision.
+
+"No," said Giovanni, "I saw that it was not your ordinary glass. It
+seems much better. Now Zorzi must have made it in a new crucible, and if
+he did, he made it with some secret of yours, for it is impossible that
+he should have discovered it himself. I said to myself that if he had
+made it, and the red glass there, he must have opened the book which you
+had buried together in this room, and that there was only one way of
+hindering him from learning everything in it, and ruining you and us by
+setting up a furnace of his own."
+
+Beroviero was looking hard at Giovanni, but he was now thoroughly
+alarmed for the safety of his treasured manuscript, and listened with
+attention and without any hostility. The proofs seemed at first sight
+very strong, and after all Zorzi was only a Dalmatian and a foreigner,
+who might have yielded to temptation.
+
+"What did you do?" asked Beroviero.
+
+Giovanni told him the truth, how he had written a letter to the
+Governor, and had seen him in person, as well as Jacopo Contarini.
+
+"Of course," Giovanni concluded, "you know best. If you find the book
+as you and he hid it together, he must have learned your secrets in some
+other way."
+
+"We can easily see," answered old Beroviero, rising quickly. "Come here.
+Get the crowbar from the corner, and help me to lift the stone."
+
+Giovanni took pains to look for the crowbar exactly where it was not,
+for he thought that this would divert any lingering suspicion from
+himself, but Beroviero was only annoyed.
+
+"There, there!" he cried, pointing. "It is in that corner. Quickly!"
+
+"It would be like the clever scoundrel to have copied what he wanted and
+then to have put the book back into the hiding-place," said Giovanni,
+pausing.
+
+"Do not waste words, my son!" cried Beroviero in the greatest anxiety.
+"Here! This is the stone. Get the crowbar in at this side. So. Now we
+will both heave. There! Wedge the stone up with that bit of wood. That
+will do. Now let us both get our hands under it, and lift it up."
+
+It was done, while he was speaking. A moment later Giovanni had scooped
+out the loose earth, and Beroviero was staring down into the empty hole,
+just as Giovanni had done on the previous night. Giovanni was almost
+consoled for his own disappointment when he saw his father's face.
+
+"It is certainly gone," he said. "You did not bury it deeper, did you?
+The soil is hard below."
+
+"No, no! It is gone!" answered the old man in a dull voice. "Zorzi has
+got it."
+
+"You see," said Giovanni mercilessly, "when I saw the red and white
+glass which he had made himself I was so sure of the truth that I acted
+quickly. I saw him arrested, and I do not think he could have had
+anything like a book with him, for he was in his doublet and hose. And
+as he is safe in prison now, he can be made to tell where he has put the
+thing. How big was it?"
+
+"It was in an iron box. It was heavy." Beroviero spoke in low tones,
+overcome by his loss, and by the apparent certainty that Zorzi had
+betrayed him.
+
+"You see why I should naturally suspect him of having stolen the
+mantle," observed Giovanni. "A man who would betray your confidence in
+such a way would do anything."
+
+"Yes, yes," answered the old master vaguely. "Yes--I must go and see him
+in prison. I was kind to him, and perhaps he may confess everything to
+me."
+
+"We might ask Marietta when she first missed her mantle," suggested
+Giovanni. "She must have noticed that it was gone."
+
+"She will not remember," answered Beroviero. "Let us go to the
+Governor's house at once. There is just time before mid-day. We can
+speak to Marietta at dinner."
+
+"But you must be tired, after your journey," objected Giovanni, with
+unusual concern for his father's comfort.
+
+"No. I slept well on the ship. I have done nothing to tire me. The
+gondola may be still there. Tell Pasquale to call it over, and we will
+go directly. Go on! I will follow you."
+
+Giovanni went forward, and Beroviero stayed a moment to look again at
+the beautiful objects of white glass, examining them carefully, one by
+one. The workmanship was marvellous, and he could not help admiring it,
+but it was the glass itself that disturbed him. It was like his own, but
+it was better, and the knowledge of its composition and treatment was a
+fortune. Then, too, the secret of dropping a piece of copper into a
+certain mixture in order to produce a particularly beautiful red colour
+was in the book, and the colour could not be mistaken and was not the
+one which Beroviero had been trying to produce. He shook his head sadly
+as he went out and locked the door behind him, convinced against his
+will that he had been betrayed by the man whom he had most trusted in
+the world.
+
+Pasquale watched the two, father and son, as they got into the gondola.
+Old Beroviero had not even looked at him as he came out, and it was not
+the porter's business to volunteer information, nor the gondolier's
+either. But when the latter was ordered to row to the Governor's house
+as fast as possible, he turned his head and looked at Pasquale, who
+slowly nodded his ugly head before going in again.
+
+On reaching their destination they were received at once, and the
+Governor told them what had happened, in as few words as possible.
+Nothing could exceed old Beroviero's consternation, and his son's
+disappointment. Zorzi had been rescued at the corner of San Piero's
+church by men who had knocked senseless the officer and the six archers.
+No one knew who these men were, nor their numbers, but they were clearly
+friends of Zorzi's who had known that he was to be arrested.
+
+"Accomplices," suggested Giovanni. "He has stolen a valuable book of my
+father's, containing secrets for making the finest glass. By this time
+he is on his way to Milan, or Florence."
+
+"I daresay," said the Governor. "These foreigners are capable of
+anything."
+
+"I had trusted him so confidently," said Beroviero, too much overcome to
+be angry.
+
+"Exactly," answered the Governor. "You trusted him too much."
+
+"I always thought so," put in Giovanni wisely.
+
+"There is nothing to be said," resumed Beroviero. "I do not wish to
+believe it of him, but I cannot deny the evidence of my own senses."
+
+"I have already sent a report to the Council of Ten," said the Governor.
+"The most careful search will be made in Venice for Zorzi and his
+companions, and if they are found, they will suffer for what they have
+done."
+
+"I hope so!" replied Giovanni heartily.
+
+"I remember that you recommended me to send a strong force," observed
+the Governor. "Perhaps you knew that a rescue was intended. Or you were
+aware that the fellow had daring accomplices."
+
+"I only suspected it," Giovanni answered. "I knew nothing. He was always
+alone."
+
+"He has hardly been out of my sight for five years," said old Beroviero
+sadly.
+
+He and his son took their leave, the Governor promising to keep them
+informed as to the progress of the search. At present nothing more could
+be done, for Zorzi has disappeared altogether, and old Beroviero was
+much inclined to share his son's opinion that the fugitive was already
+on his way to Milan, or Florence, where the possession of the secrets
+would insure him a large fortune, very greatly to the injury of
+Beroviero and all the glass-workers of Murano. The two men returned to
+the house in silence, for the elder was too much absorbed by his own
+thoughts to speak, and Giovanni was too wise to interrupt reflections
+which undoubtedly tended to Zorzi's destruction.
+
+Marietta was awaiting her father's return with much anxiety, for every
+one knew that the master had gone first to the laboratory and then to
+the Governor's palace, with Giovanni, so that the two must have been
+talking together a long time. Marietta waited with her sister-in-law in
+the lower hall, slowly walking up and down.
+
+When her father came up the low steps at last, she went forward to meet
+him, and a glance told her that he was in the most extreme anxiety. She
+took his hand and kissed it, in the customary manner, and he bent a
+little and touched her forehead with his lips. Then, to her surprise, he
+put one hand under her chin, and laid the other on the top of her head,
+and with gentle force made her look at him. Giovanni's wife was there,
+and most of the servants were standing near the foot of the staircase to
+welcome their master.
+
+Beroviero said nothing as he gazed into his daughter's eyes. They met
+his own fearlessly enough, and she opened them wide, as she rarely did,
+as if to show that she had nothing to conceal; but while he looked at
+her the blood rose blushing in her cheeks, telling that there was
+something to hide after all, and as she would not turn her eyes from
+his, they sparkled a little with vexation. Beroviero did not speak, but
+he let her go and went on towards the stairs, bending his head
+graciously to the other persons who were assembled to greet him.
+
+He was a man of strong character and of much natural dignity, far too
+proud to break down under a great loss or a bitter disappointment, and
+at dinner he sat at the head of the table and spoke affably of the
+journey he had made, explaining his unexpectedly early return by the
+fact that the Lord of Rimini had at once approved his designs and
+accepted his terms. Occasionally Giovanni asked a respectful question,
+but neither his wife nor Marietta said much during the meal. Zorzi was
+not mentioned.
+
+"You are welcome at my house, my son," Beroviero said, when they had
+finished, "but I suppose that you will go back to your own this
+evening."
+
+This was of course a command, and Marietta thought it a good omen. She
+had felt sure, when her father made her look at him, that Giovanni had
+spoken to him of the mantle, but in what way she could not tell.
+Perhaps, though it seemed incredible, he would not make such a serious
+case of it as she had expected.
+
+He said nothing, when he withdrew to rest during the hot hours of the
+afternoon, and she went to her own room as every one did at that time.
+Little as she had slept that night, she felt that it would be
+intolerable to lie down; so she took her little basket of beads and
+tried to work. Nella was dozing in the next room. From time to time the
+young girl leaned back in her chair with half-closed eyes, and a look of
+pain came over her face; then with an effort she took her needle once
+more, and picked out the beads, threading them one by one in a regular
+succession of colours.
+
+She was sure that if Zorzi were near he would have already found some
+means of informing her that he was really in safety. He must have
+friends of whom she knew nothing, and who had rescued him at great risk.
+He would surely trust one of them to take a message, or to make a signal
+which she could understand. She sat near the window, and the shutters
+were half closed so as to leave a space through which she could look
+out. From time to time she glanced at the white line of the footway
+opposite, over which the shadow of the glass-house was beginning to
+creep as the sun moved westward. But no one appeared. When it was cool
+Pasquale would probably come out and look three times up and down the
+canal as he always did. Giovanni would not go to the laboratory again.
+Perhaps her father would go, when, he was rested. Then, if she chose,
+she could take Nella and join him, and since there was to be an
+explanation with him, she would rather have it in the laboratory, where
+they would be quite alone.
+
+She had fully made up her mind to tell him at the very first interview
+that she would not marry Jacopo Contarini under any circumstances, but
+she had not decided whether she would add that she loved Zorzi. She
+hated anything like cowardice, and it would be cowardly to put off
+telling the truth any longer; but what concerned Zorzi was her secret,
+and she had a right to choose the most favourable moment for making a
+revelation on which her whole life, and Zorzi's also, must immediately
+depend. She felt weak and tired, for she had eaten little and hardly
+slept at all, but her determination was strong and she would act upon
+it.
+
+Occasionally she rose and moved wearily about the room, looked out
+between the shutters and then sat down again. She was in one of those
+moments of life in which all existence seems drawn out to an endless
+quivering thread, a single throbbing nerve stretched to its utmost point
+of strain.
+
+The silence was broken by a man's footstep in the passage, coming
+towards her door. A moment later she heard her father's voice, asking if
+he might come in. Almost at the same time she opened and Beroviero stood
+on the threshold. Nella had heard him speaking, too, and she started up,
+wide awake in an instant, and came in, to see if she were needed.
+
+"Will you go with me to the laboratory, my dear?" asked the old man
+quietly.
+
+She answered gravely that she would. There was no gladness in her tone,
+but no reluctance. She was facing the most difficult situation she had
+ever known, and perhaps the most dangerous.
+
+"Very well," said her father. "Let Nella give you your silk mantle and
+we will go at once."
+
+Before Marietta could have answered, even if she had known what to say,
+Nella had begun her tale of woe. The mantle was stolen, the sour-faced
+shrew of a maid who belonged to the Signor Giovanni's wife had stolen
+it, the house ought to be searched at once, and so much more to the same
+effect that Nella was obliged to pause for breath.
+
+"When did you miss it?" asked Beroviero, looking hard at the
+serving-woman.
+
+"This morning, sir. It was here last night, I am quite sure."
+
+The truthful little brown eyes did not waver.
+
+"And it cannot have been any one else," continued Nella. "This is a very
+evil person, sir, and she sometimes comes here with a message, or making
+believe that she is helping me. As if I needed help, indeed!"
+
+"Do not accuse people of stealing when you have no evidence against
+them," answered Beroviero somewhat sternly. "Give your mistress
+something else to throw over her."
+
+"Give me the green silk cloak," said Marietta, who was anxious not to be
+questioned about the mantle.
+
+"It has a spot in one corner," Nella answered discontentedly, as she
+went to the wardrobe.
+
+The spot turned out to be no bigger than the head of a pin. A moment
+later Marietta and her father were going downstairs. At the door of the
+glass-house Pasquale eyed them with approbation, and Marietta smiled and
+said a word to him as she passed. It seemed strange that she should have
+trusted the ugly old man with a secret which she dared not tell her own
+father.
+
+Beroviero did not speak as she followed him down the path and stood
+waiting while he unlocked the door. Then they both entered, and he laid
+his cap upon the table.
+
+"There is your mantle, my dear," he said quietly, and he pointed to it,
+neatly folded and lying on the bench.
+
+Marietta started, for she was taken unawares. While in her own room, her
+father had spoken so naturally as to make it seem quite possible that
+Giovanni had said nothing about it to him, yet he had known exactly
+where it was. He was facing her now, as he spoke.
+
+"It was found here last night, after Zorzi had been arrested," said
+Beroviero. "Do you understand?"
+
+"Yes," Marietta answered, gathering all her courage. "We will talk about
+it by and by. First, I have something to say to you which is much more
+important than anything concerning the mantle. Will you sit down,
+father, and hear me as patiently as you can?"
+
+"I am learning patience to-day," said Beroviero, sitting down in his
+chair. "I am learning also the meaning of such words as ingratitude,
+betrayal and treachery, which were never before spoken in my house."
+
+He sighed and leaned back, looking at the wall. Marietta dropped her
+cloak beside the mantle on the bench and began to walk up and down
+before him, trying to begin her speech. But she could not find any
+words.
+
+"Speak, child," said her father. "What has happened? It seems to me that
+I could bear almost anything now."
+
+She stood still a moment before him, still hesitating. She now saw that
+he had suffered more than she had suspected, doubtless owing to Zorzi's
+arrest and disappearance, and she knew that what she meant to tell him
+would hurt him much more.
+
+"Father," she began at last, with a great effort, "I know that what I am
+going to say will displease you very, very much. I am sorry--I wish it
+were not--"
+
+Suddenly her set speech broke down. She fell on her knees and took his
+hands, looking up beseechingly to his face.
+
+"Forgive me!" she cried. "Oh, for God's sake forgive me! I cannot marry
+Jacopo Contarini!"
+
+Beroviero had not expected that. He sat upright in the chair, in his
+amazement, and instinctively tried to draw his hands out of hers, but
+she held them fast, gazing earnestly up to him. His look was not angry,
+nor cold, nor did he even seem hurt. He was simply astonished beyond
+all measure by the enormous audacity of what she said. As yet he did not
+connect it with anything else.
+
+"I think you must be mad!"
+
+That was all he could find to say.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+
+Marietta shook her head. She still knelt at her father's feet, holding
+his hands.
+
+"I am not mad," she said. "I am in earnest. I cannot marry him. It is
+impossible."
+
+"You must marry him," answered Beroviero. "You are betrothed to him, and
+it would be an insult to his family to break off the marriage now.
+Besides, you have no reason to give, not the shadow of a reason."
+
+Marietta dropped his hands and rose to her feet lightly. She had
+expected a terrific outburst of anger, which would gradually subside,
+after which she hoped to find words with which to influence him. But
+like many hot-tempered men, he was sometimes unexpectedly calm at
+critical moments, as if he were really able to control his nature when
+he chose. She now almost wished that he would break out in a rage, as
+women sometimes hope we may, for they know it is far easier to deal with
+an angry man than with a determined one.
+
+"I will not marry him," she said at last, with strong emphasis, and
+almost defiantly.
+
+"My child," Beroviero answered gravely, "you do not know what you are
+saying."
+
+"I do!" cried Marietta with some indignation. "I have thought of it a
+long time. I was very wrong not to make up my mind from the beginning,
+and I ask your forgiveness. In my heart I always knew that I could not
+do it in the end, and I should have said so at once. It was a great
+mistake."
+
+"There is no question of your consent," replied Beroviero with
+conviction. "If girls were consulted as to the men they were to marry,
+the world would soon come to an end. This is only a passing madness, of
+which you should be heartily ashamed. Say no more about it. On the
+appointed day, the wedding will take place."
+
+"It will not," said Marietta firmly; "and you will do better to let it
+be known at once. It is of no use to take heaven to witness, and to make
+a solemn oath. I merely say that I will not marry Jacopo Contarini. You
+may carry me to the church, you may drag me before the altar, but I will
+resist. I will scream out that I will not, and the priest himself will
+protect me. That will be a much greater scandal than if you go to the
+Contarini family and tell them that your daughter is mad--if you really
+think I am."
+
+"You are undoubtedly beside yourself at the present moment," Beroviero
+answered. "But it will pass, I hope."
+
+"Not while I am alive, and I shall certainly resist to the end. It would
+be much wiser of you to send me to a convent at once, than to count on
+forcing me to go through the marriage ceremony."
+
+Beroviero stared at her, and stroked his beard. He began to believe that
+she might possibly be in earnest. Since she talked so quietly of going
+to a convent, a fate which most girls considered the most terrible that
+could be imagined. He bent his brows in thought, but watched her
+steadily.
+
+"You have not yet given me a single reason for all this wild talk," he
+said after a pause. "It is absurd to think that without some good cause
+you are suddenly filled with repulsion for marriage, or for Jacopo
+Contarini. I have heard of young women who were betrothed, but who felt
+a religious vocation, and refused to marry for that reason. It never
+seemed a very satisfactory one to me, for if there is any condition in
+which a woman needs religion, it is the marriage state."
+
+He paused in his speech, pleased with his own idea, in spite of all his
+troubles. Marietta had moved a few steps away from him and stood beside
+the table, looking down at the things on it, without seeing them.
+
+"But you do not even make religion a pretext," pursued her father. "Have
+you no reason to give? I do not expect a good one, for none can have any
+weight. But I should like to hear the best you have."
+
+"It is a very convincing one to me," Marietta replied, still looking
+down at the table. "But I think I had better not tell it to you to-day,"
+she added. "It would make you angry."
+
+"No," said Beroviero. "One cannot be angry with people who are really
+out of their senses."
+
+"I am not so mad as you think," answered the girl. "I have told you of
+my decision, because it was cowardly of me not to tell you what I felt
+before you went away. But it might be a mistake to tell you more to-day.
+You have had enough to harass you already, since you came back."
+
+"You are suddenly very considerate."
+
+"No, I have not been considerate. I could not be, without acting a lie
+to you, by letting you believe that I meant to marry Messer Jacopo, and
+I will not do that any longer, since I know that it is a lie. But I
+cannot see the use of saying anything more."
+
+"You had better tell me the whole truth, rather than let me think
+something that may be much worse," answered Beroviero, changing his
+attitude.
+
+"There is nothing in the truth of which I am ashamed," said Marietta,
+holding up her head proudly. "I have done nothing which I did not
+believe to be right, however strange it may seem to you."
+
+Once more their eyes met and they gazed steadily at each other; and
+again the blush spread over her cheeks. Beroviero put out his hand and
+touched the folded mantle.
+
+"Marietta," he said, "Zorzi has stolen my precious book of secrets, and
+has disappeared with it. They tell me that he also stole this mantle,
+for it was found here just after he was arrested last night. Is it true,
+or has he stolen my daughter instead?"
+
+Marietta's face had darkened when he began to accuse the absent man. At
+the question that followed she started a little, and drew herself up.
+
+"Zorzi is neither a thief nor a traitor," she answered. "If you mean to
+ask me whether I love him--is that what you mean?" She paused, with
+flashing eyes.
+
+"Yes," answered her father, and his voice shook.
+
+"Then yes! I love him with all my heart, and I have loved him long. That
+is why I will not marry Jacopo Contarini. You know my secret now."
+
+Beroviero groaned aloud, and his head sank as he grasped the arms of the
+chair. His daughter loved the man who had cheated him, betrayed him and
+robbed him. It was almost too much to bear. He had nothing to say, for
+no words could tell what he felt then, and he silently bowed his head.
+
+"As for the accusations you bring against him," Marietta said after a
+moment, "they are false, from first to last, and I can prove to you that
+every one of them is an abominable lie."
+
+"You cannot make that untrue which I have seen with my eyes."
+
+"I can, though Zorzi has the right to prove his innocence himself. I may
+say too much, for I am not as generous as he is. Do you know that when
+they tried to kill him in the furnace room, and lamed him for life, he
+told every one, even me, that it was an accident? He is so brave and
+noble that when he comes here again, he will not tell you that it was
+your own son who tried to rob you, who did everything in his power to
+get Zorzi away from this room, in order to search for your manuscript,
+and who at last, as everything else failed, persuaded the Governor to
+arrest him. He will not tell you that, and he does not know that before
+they had taken him twenty paces from the door, Giovanni was already
+here, locked in and trying the stones with a hammer to find out which
+one covered the precious book. Did Giovanni tell you that this morning?
+No. Zorzi would not tell you all the truth, and I know some of it even
+better than he. But Zorzi was always generous and brave."
+
+Beroviero had lifted his head now and was looking hard at her.
+
+"And your mantle? How came it here?" he asked.
+
+There was nothing to be done now, but to speak the truth.
+
+"It is here," said Marietta, growing paler, "because I came here,
+unknown to any one except Pasquale who let me in, because I came alone
+last night to warn the man I love that Giovanni had planned his
+destruction, and to save him if I could. In my haste I left the mantle
+in that chair of yours, in which I had been sitting. It slipped from my
+shoulders as I sat, and there Giovanni must have found it. If you had
+seen it there you would know that what I say is true."
+
+"I did see it," said Beroviero. "Giovanni left it where it was, and I
+folded it myself this morning. Zorzi did not steal the mantle. I take
+back that accusation."
+
+"Nor has he stolen your secrets. Take that back, too, if you are just.
+You always were, till now."
+
+"I have searched the place where he and I put the book, and it is not
+there."
+
+"Giovanni searched it twelve hours earlier, and it was already gone.
+Zorzi saved it from your son, and then, in his rage, I suppose that
+Giovanni accused him of stealing it. He may even have believed it, for I
+can be just, too. But it is not true. The book is safe."
+
+"Zorzi took it with him," said Beroviero.
+
+"You are mistaken. Before he was arrested, he said that I ought to know
+where it was, in case anything happened to him, in order to tell you."
+
+Beroviero rose slowly, staring at her, and speaking with an effort.
+
+"You know where it is? He told you? He has not taken it away?"
+
+Marietta smiled, in perfect certainty of victory.
+
+"I know where it is," she said.
+
+"Where is it?" he asked in extreme anxiety, for he could hardly believe
+what he heard.
+
+"I will not tell you yet," was the unexpected answer Marietta gave him.
+"And you cannot possibly find it unless I do."
+
+The veins stood out on the old man's temples in an instant, and the old
+angry fire came back to his eyes.
+
+"Do you dare to tell me that you will not show me the place where the
+book is, on the very instant?" he cried.
+
+"Oh yes," answered Marietta. "I dare that, and much more. I am not a
+coward like my brother, you know. I will not tell you the secret till
+you promise me something."
+
+"You are trying to sell me what is my own!" he answered angrily. "You
+are in league with Zorzi against me, to break off your marriage. But I
+will not do it--you shall tell me where the book is--if you refuse, you
+shall repent it as long as you live--I will--"
+
+He stopped short in his speech as he met her disdainful look.
+
+"You never threatened me before," she said. "Why do you think that you
+can frighten me?"
+
+"Give me what is mine," said the old man angrily. "That is all I demand.
+I am not threatening."
+
+"Set me free from Messer Jacopo, and you shall have it," answered
+Marietta.
+
+"No. You shall marry him."
+
+"I will not. But I will keep your book until you change your mind, or
+else--but no! If I gave it to Zorzi, he is so honourable that he would
+bring it back to you without so much as looking into it. I will keep it
+for myself. Or I will burn it!"
+
+She felt that if she had been a man, she could not have taken such an
+unfair advantage of him; but she was a defenceless girl, fighting for
+the liberty of her whole life. That might excuse much, she thought. By
+this time Beroviero was very angry; he stalked up and down beside the
+furnace, trailing his thin silk gown behind him, stroking his beard with
+a quick, impatient movement, and easting fierce glances at Marietta from
+time to time.
+
+He was not used to being at the mercy of circumstances, still less to
+having his mind made up for him by his son and his daughter. Giovanni
+had made him believe that Zorzi had turned traitor and thief, after five
+years of faithful service, and the conviction had cut him to the quick;
+and now Marietta had demonstrated Zorzi's innocence almost beyond doubt,
+but had made matters worse in other ways, and was taking the high hand
+with him. He did not realise that from the moment when she had boldly
+confessed what she had done and had declared her love for Zorzi, his
+confidence in her had returned by quick degrees, and that the atrocious
+crime of having come secretly at night to the laboratory had become in
+his eyes, and perhaps against his will, a mere pardonable piece of
+rashness; since if Zorzi was innocent, anything which could save him
+from unjust imprisonment might well be forgiven. He had borne what
+seemed to him very great misfortunes with fortitude and dignity; but his
+greatest treasures were safe, his daughter and Paolo Godi's manuscript,
+and he became furiously angry with Marietta, because she had him in her
+power.
+
+If a man is seated, a woman who intends to get the better of him
+generally stands; but if he loses his temper and begins to walk about,
+she immediately seats herself and assumes an exasperating calmness of
+manner. Accordingly Marietta sat down on a small chair near the table
+and watched her father in silence, persuaded that he would be obliged to
+yield in the end.
+
+"No one has ever dared to browbeat me in this way, in my whole life!"
+cried the old man fiercely, and his voice shook with rage.
+
+"Will you listen to me?" asked Marietta with sudden meekness.
+
+"Listen to you?" he repeated instantly. "Have I not been listening to
+you for hours?"
+
+"I do not know how long it may have been," answered the girl, "but I
+have much more to say. You are so angry that you will not hear me."
+
+"Angry? I? Are you telling me that I am so beside myself with rage, that
+I cannot understand reason?"
+
+"I did not say that."
+
+"You meant it, then! What did you say? You have forgotten what you said
+already! Just like a girl! And you pretend to argue with me, with your
+own father! It is beyond belief! Silence, I say! Do not answer me!"
+
+Marietta sat quite still, and began to look at her nails, which were
+very pink and well shaped. After a short silence Beroviero stopped
+before her.
+
+"Well!" he cried. "Why do you not speak?" His eyes blazed and he tapped
+the pavement with his foot. She raised her eyebrows, smiled a little
+wearily and sighed.
+
+"I misunderstood you," she said, with exasperating patience. "I thought
+you told me to be silent."
+
+"You always misunderstand me," he answered angrily and walking off
+again. "You always did, and you always will! I believe you do it on
+purpose. But I will make you understand! You shall know what I mean!"
+
+"I should be so glad," said Marietta. "Pray tell me what you mean."
+
+This was too much. He turned sharply in his walk.
+
+"I mean you to marry Contarini," he cried out, with a stamp of the foot.
+
+"And you mean never to see Paolo Godi's manuscript again," suggested
+Marietta quietly.
+
+"Perdition take the accursed thing!" roared the old man. "If I only knew
+where you have put it--"
+
+"It is where you can never, never find it," Marietta answered. "So it is
+of no use to be angry with me, is it? The more angry you are, the less
+likely it is that I shall tell you. But I will tell you something else,
+father--something you never understood before. My marriage was to have
+been a bargain, a great name for a fortune, half your fortune for a
+great name and an alliance with the Contarini. Perhaps one was worth the
+other. I know very little of such things. But it chances that I can have
+a word to say about the bargain, too. Would any one say that I was doing
+very wrong if I gave that book to my brother, for instance? Giovanni
+would not give it back to you, as Zorzi would, I am quite sure."
+
+"What abominable scheme is this?" Beroviero fairly trembled in his fury.
+
+"I offer you a simple bargain," Marietta answered, unmoved. "I will give
+you your manuscript for my freedom. Will you take it, father? Or will
+you insist upon trying to marry me by force, and let me give the book to
+Giovanni? Yes, that is what I will do. Then I will marry Zorzi, and go
+away."
+
+"Silence, child! You! Marry a stranger, a Dalmatian--a servant!"
+
+"But I love him. You may call him a servant, if you choose. It would
+make no difference to me if it were true. He would not be less brave,
+less loyal or less worthy if he were forced to clean your shoes in order
+to live, instead of sharing your art with you. Did he ever lie to you?"
+
+"No!" cried the old man. "I would have broken his bones!"
+
+"Did he ever betray a secret, since you know that the book is safe?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Have you trusted him far more than your own sons, for many years?"
+
+"Yes--of course--"
+
+"Then call him your servant if you like, and call your sons what you
+please," concluded Marietta, "but do not tell me that such a man is not
+good enough to be the husband of a glass-blower's daughter, who does not
+want a great name, nor a palace, nor a husband who sits in the Grand
+Council. Do not say that, father, for it would not be true--and you
+never told a lie in your life."
+
+"I tell you that marriage has nothing to do with all this!" He began
+walking again, to keep his temper hot, for he was dimly conscious that
+he was getting the worst of the encounter, and that her arguments were
+good.
+
+"And I tell you that a marriage that has nothing to do with love, and
+with honour, and with trust, is no marriage at all!" answered the girl.
+"Say what you please of customs, and traditions, and of station, and all
+that! God never meant that an innocent girl should be bought and sold
+like a slave, or a horse, for a name, nor for money, nor for any
+imaginary advantage to herself or to her father! I know what our
+privilege is, that the patricians may marry us and not lose their rank.
+I would rather keep my own, and marry a glass-worker, even if I were to
+be sold! Do you know what your money would buy for me in Venice? The
+privilege of being despised and slighted by patricians and great ladies.
+You know as well as I that it would all end there, in spite of all you
+may give. They want your money, you want their name, because you are
+rich and you have always been taught to think that the chief use of
+money is to rise in the world."
+
+"Will you teach me what I am to think?" asked old Beroviero, amazed by
+her sudden flow of words.
+
+"Yes," she answered, before he could say more. "I will teach you what
+you should think, what you should have always thought--a man as brave
+and upright and honest in everything as you are! You should think, you
+should know, that your daughter has a right to live, a right to be free,
+and a right to love, like every living creature God ever made!"
+
+"This is the most abominable rebellion!" retorted Beroviero. "I cannot
+imagine where you learned--"
+
+"Rebellion?" she cried, interrupting him in ringing tones. "Yes, it is
+rank rebellion, sedition and revolt against slavery, for life and love
+and freedom! You wonder where I have learned to turn and face this
+oppression of the world, instead of yielding to it, one more unhappy
+woman among the thousands that are bought and sold into wifehood every
+year! I have learned nothing, my heart needed no teaching for that! It
+is enough that I love an honest man truly--I know that it is wrong to
+promise my faith to another, and that it is a worse wrong in you to try
+to get that promise from me by force. A vow that could be nothing but a
+solemn lie! Would the ring on my finger be a charm to make me forget?
+Would the priest's words and blessing be a spell to root out of my heart
+what is the best part of my life? Better go to a nunnery, and weep for
+the truth, than to hope for peace in such a lie as that--better a
+thousand, thousand times!"
+
+She had risen now, and was almost eloquent, facing her father with
+flashing eyes.
+
+"Oh, you have always been kind to me, good to me, dear to me," she went
+on quickly. "It is only in this that you will not understand. Would it
+not hurt you a little to feel that you had sent me to a sort of living
+death from which I could never come back to life? That I was imprisoned
+for ever among people who looked down upon me and only tolerated me for
+my fortune's sake? Yet that would be the very least part of it all! I
+could bear all that, if it were for any good. But to become the
+creature, the possession, the plaything of a man I do not love, when I
+love another with all my heart--oh, no, no, no! You cannot ask me that!"
+
+His anger had slowly subsided, and he was listening now, not because she
+had him in her power, but because what she said was true. For he was a
+just and honourable man.
+
+"I wish that you might have loved any man but Zorzi," he said, almost as
+if speaking to himself.
+
+"And why another?" she asked, following up her advantage instantly. "You
+would have had me marry a Trevisan, perhaps, or the son of any of the
+other great glass-makers? Is there one of them who can compare with
+Zorzi as an artist, let alone as a man? Look at those things he has
+made, there, on the table! Is there a man living who could make one of
+them? Not you, yourself; you know it better than I do!"
+
+"No," answered Beroviero. "That is true. Nor is there any one who could
+make the glass he used for them without the secrets that are in the
+book--and more too, for it is better than my own."
+
+Marietta looked at him in surprise. This was something she had not
+known.
+
+"Is it not your glass?" she asked.
+
+"It is better. He must have added something to the composition set down
+in the book."
+
+"You believe that although the book itself is safe, he has made use of
+it."
+
+"Yes. I cannot see how it could be otherwise."
+
+"Was the book sealed?"
+
+"Yes, and looked in an iron box. Here is the key. I always wear it."
+
+He drew out the small iron key, and showed it to her.
+
+"If you find the box locked, and the seals untouched, will you believe
+that Zorzi has not opened the manuscript?" asked Marietta.
+
+"Yes," answered Beroviero after a moment's thought. "I showed him the
+seal, and I remember that he said a man might make one like it. But I
+should know by the wax. I am sure I could tell whether it had been
+tampered with. Yes, I should believe he had not opened the book, if I
+found it as I left it."
+
+"Then you will be convinced that Zorzi is altogether innocent of all the
+charges Giovanni made against him. Is that true?"
+
+"Yes. If he has learnt the art in spite of the law, that is my fault,
+not his. He was unwise in selling the beaker to Giovanni. But what is
+that, after all?"
+
+"Promise me then," said Marietta, laying her hand upon her father's arm,
+"promise me that if Zorzi comes back, he shall be safe, and that you
+will trust him as you always have."
+
+"Though he dares to be in love with you?"
+
+"Though I dare to love him--or apart from that. Say that if it were not
+for that, you would treat him just as before you went away."
+
+"Yes, I would," answered Beroviero thoughtfully.
+
+"The book is there," said Marietta.
+
+She pointed to the big earthen jar that contained the broken glass, and
+her father's eyes followed her land.
+
+"It is for Zorzi's sake that I tell you," she continued. "The book is
+buried deep down amongst the broken bits. It will take a long time to
+get it out. Shall I call Pasquale to help us?"
+
+"No," answered her father.
+
+He went to the other end of the room and brought back the crowbar. Then
+he placed himself in a good position for striking, and raised the iron
+high in air with both his hands.
+
+"Stand back!" he cried as Marietta came nearer.
+
+The first blow knocked a large piece of earthenware from the side of the
+strong jar, and a quantity of broken red glass poured out, as red as
+blood from a wound, and fell with little crashes upon the stone floor.
+Beroviero raised the crowbar again and again and brought it down with
+all his might. At the fourth stroke the whole jar went to pieces,
+leaving nothing but a red heap of smashed glass, round about which lay
+the big fragments of the jar. In the middle of the heap, the corner of
+the iron box appeared, sticking up like a black stone.
+
+"At last!" exclaimed the old man, flushed with satisfaction. "Giovanni
+had not thought of this."
+
+He cleared away the shivers and gently pushed the box out of its bed
+with the crowbar. He soon got it out on the floor, and with some
+precaution, lest any stray splinter should cut his fingers, he set it
+upon the table. Then he took the key from his neck and opened it.
+
+Marietta's belief in Zorzi had never wavered, from the first, but
+Beroviero was more than half sure that the book had been opened. He took
+it up with care, turned it over and over in his hands, scrutinised the
+seal, the strings, the knots, and saw that they were all his own.
+
+"It is impossible that this should have been undone and tied up again,"
+he said confidently.
+
+"Any one could see that at once," Marietta answered. "Do you believe
+that Zorzi is innocent?"
+
+"I cannot help believing. But I do not understand. There is the red
+glass, made by dropping the piece of copper into it. That is in the
+book, I am sure."
+
+"It was an accident," said Marietta. "The copper ladle fell into the
+glass. Zorzi told me about it."
+
+"Are you sure? That is possible. The very same thing happened to Paolo
+Godi, and that was how he discovered the colour. But there is the white
+glass, which is so like mine, though it is better. That may have been an
+accident too. Or the boy may have tried an experiment upon mine by
+adding something to it."
+
+"It is at least sure that the book has not been touched, and that is the
+main thing. You admit that he is quite innocent, do you not? Quite,
+quite innocent?"
+
+"Yes, I do. It would be very unjust not to admit it."
+
+Marietta drew a long breath of relief, for she had scarcely hoped to
+accomplish so much in so short a time. The rest would follow, she felt
+sure.
+
+"I would give a great deal to see Zorzi at once," said her father, at
+last, as he replaced the manuscript in the box and shut the lid.
+
+"Not half as much as I would!" Marietta almost laughed, as she spoke.
+"Father," she added gently, and resting one hand upon his shoulder, "I
+have given you back your book, I have given you back the innocent man
+you trusted, instead of the villain invented by my brother. What will
+you give me?"
+
+She smiled and rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. He shook his head
+a little, and would not answer.
+
+"Would it be so hard to say that you ask another year's time before the
+marriage? And then, you know, you could ask it again, and they would
+soon be tired of waiting and would break it off themselves."
+
+"Do not suggest such woman's tricks to me," answered her father; but he
+could not help smiling.
+
+"Oh, you may find a better way," Marietta said. "But that would be so
+easy, would it not? Your daughter is so young--her health is somewhat
+delicate--"
+
+She was interrupted by a knock at the door, and Pasquale entered.
+
+"The Signor Giovanni is without, sir," said the porter. "He desires to
+take leave of you, as he is returning to his own house to-day."
+
+"Let him come in," said Beroviero, his face darkening all at once.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+
+Giovanni entered the laboratory confidently, not even knowing that
+Marietta was with her father, and not suspecting that he could have
+anything to fear from her.
+
+"I have come to take my leave of you, sir," he began, going towards his
+father at once.
+
+He did not see the broken jar, which was at some distance from the door.
+
+"Before you go," said Beroviero coldly, "pray look at this."
+
+Giovanni saw the box on the table, but did not understand, as he had
+never seen it before. His father again took the key from his neck and
+opened the casket.
+
+"This is Paolo Godi's manuscript," he said, without changing his tone.
+"You see, here is the book. The seal is unbroken. It is exactly as I
+left it when Zorzi and I buried it together. You suspected him of having
+opened it, and I confess that you made me suspect him, too. For the sake
+of justice, convince yourself."
+
+Giovanni's face was drawn with lines of vexation and anxiety.
+
+"It was hidden in the jar of broken glass," Beroviero explained. "You
+did not think of looking there."
+
+"No--nor you, sir."
+
+"I mean that you did not look there when you searched for it alone,
+immediately after Zorzi was arrested."
+
+Giovanni was pale now, but he raised both hands and turned up his eyes
+as if calling upon heaven to witness his innocence.
+
+"I swear to you," he began, "on the body of the blessed Saint Donatus--"
+
+Beroviero interrupted him.
+
+"I did not ask you to swear by anything," he said. "I know the truth.
+The less you say of what has happened, the better it will be for you in
+the end."
+
+"I suppose my sister has been poisoning your mind against me as usual.
+Can she explain how her mantle came here?"
+
+"It does not concern you to know how it came here," answered Beroviero.
+"By your wholly unjustifiable haste, to say nothing worse, you have
+caused an innocent man to be arrested, and his rescue and disappearance
+have made matters much worse. I do not care to ask what your object has
+been. Keep it to yourself, pray, and do not remind me of this affair
+when we meet, for after all, you are my son. You came to take your
+leave, I think. Go home, then, by all means."
+
+Without a word, Giovanni went out, biting his thin lip and reflecting
+mournfully upon the change in his position since he had talked with his
+father in the morning. While they had been speaking Marietta had gone to
+a little distance, affecting to unfold the mantle and fold it again
+according to feminine rules. As she heard the door shut again she
+glanced at her father's face, and saw that he was looking at her.
+
+"I told you that I was learning patience to-day," he said. "I longed to
+lay my hands on him."
+
+"You frightened him much more by what you said," answered Marietta.
+
+"Perhaps. Never mind! He is gone. The question is how to find Zorzi.
+That is the first thing, and then we must undo the mischief Giovanni has
+done."
+
+"I think Pasquale must have some clue by which we may find Zorzi,"
+suggested Marietta.
+
+Pasquale was called at once. He stood with his legs bowed, holding his
+old cap in both hands, his small bloodshot eyes fixed on his master's
+face with a look of inquiry. He was more than ever like a savage old
+watch-dog.
+
+"Yes, sir," he said in answer to Beroviero's question, "I can tell you
+something. Two men were looking on last night when the Signor Giovanni
+made me open the door to the Governor's soldiers. They wore hoods over
+their eyes, but I am certain that one of them was that Greek captain who
+came here one morning before you went away. When Zorzi came out, the
+Greek walked off, up the footway and past the bridge. The other waited
+till they were all gone and till Signor Giovanni had come in. He
+whispered quickly in my ear, 'Zorzi is safe.' Then he went after the
+others. I could see that he had a short staff hidden under his cloak,
+and that he was a man with bones like an ox. But he was not so big a
+man as the captain. Then I knew that two such men, who were seamen
+accustomed to using their hands, quick on their feet and seeing well in
+the dark, as we all do, could pitch the officer over the tower of San
+Piero, if they chose, with all his sleazy crew of lubberly, dressed-up
+boobies, armed with overgrown boat-hooks. This I thought, and so it
+happened. That is what I know."
+
+"But why should Captain Aristarchi care whether Zorzi were arrested or
+not?" asked Beroviero.
+
+"This the saints may know in paradise," answered Pasquale, "but not I."
+
+"Has the captain been here again?" asked Beroviero, completely puzzled.
+
+"No, sir. But I should have told you that one morning there came a
+patrician of Venice, Messer Zuan Venier, who wished to see you, being a
+friend of Messer Jacopo Contarini, and when he heard that you were away
+he desired to see Zorzi, and stayed some time."
+
+"I know him by name," said Beroviero, nodding. "But there can be no
+connection between him and this Greek."
+
+Pasquale snarled and showed his teeth at the mere idea, for his instinct
+told him that Aristarchi was a pirate, or had been one, and he was by no
+means sure that the Greek had carried off Zorzi for any good purpose.
+
+"Pasquale," said Beroviero, "it is long since you have had a holiday.
+Take the skiff to-morrow morning, and go over to Venice. You are a
+seaman and you can easily find out from the sailors about the Giudecca
+who this Aristarchi really is, and where he lives. Then try to see him
+and tell him that Zorzi is innocent of all the charges against him, and
+that if he will come back I will protect him. Can you do that?"
+
+Pasquale gave signs of great satisfaction, by growling and grinning at
+the same time, and his lids drew themselves into a hundred wrinkles till
+his eyes seemed no bigger than two red Murano beads.
+
+Then Beroviero and Marietta went back to the house, and the young girl
+carried the folded mantle under her cloak. Before going to her own room
+she opened it out, as if it had been worn, and dropped it behind a
+bench-box in the large room, as if it had fallen from her shoulders
+while she had been sitting there; and in due time it was found by one of
+the men-servants, who brought it back to Nella.
+
+"You are so careless, my pretty lady!" cried the serving-woman, holding
+up her hands.
+
+"Yes," answered Marietta, "I know it."
+
+"So careless!" repeated Nella. "Nothing has any value for you! Some day
+you will forget your face in the mirror and go away without it, and then
+they will say it is Nella's fault!"
+
+Marietta laughed lightly, for she was happy. It was clear that
+everything was to end well, though it might be long before her father
+would consent to let her marry Zorzi. She felt quite sure that he was
+safe, though he might lie far away by this time.
+
+Beroviero returned at once to the Governor's house, and did his best to
+undo the mischief. But to his unspeakable disappointment he found that
+the Governor's report had already gone to the Council of Ten, so that
+the matter had passed altogether out of his hands. The Council would
+certainly find Zorzi, if he were in Venice, and within two or three
+days, at the utmost, if not within a few hours; for the Signors of the
+Night were very vigilant and their men knew every hiding-place in
+Venice. Zorzi, said the Governor, would certainly be taken into custody
+unless he had escaped to the mainland. Beroviero could have wrung his
+hands for sheer despair, and when he told Marietta the result of his
+second visit to the Governor, her heart sank, for Zorzi's danger was
+greater than ever before, and it was not likely that a man who had been
+so mysteriously rescued, to the manifest injury and disgrace of those
+who were taking him to prison, could escape torture. He would certainly
+be suspected of connivance with secret enemies of the Republic.
+
+Beroviero bethought him of the friends he had in Venice, to whom he
+might apply for help in his difficulty. In the first place there was
+Messer Luigi Foscarini, a Procurator of Saint Mark; but he had not been
+long in office, and he would probably not wish to be concerned in any
+matter which tended to oppose authority. And there was old Contarini,
+who was himself one of the Ten; Beroviero knew his character well and
+judged that he would not be lenient towards any one who had been
+forcibly rescued, no matter how innocent he might be. Moreover the law
+against foreigners who attempted to work in glass was in force, and very
+stringent. Contarini, like many over-wise men who have no control
+whatever over their own children, was always for excessive severity in
+all processes of the law. Beroviero thought of some others, but against
+each one he found some real objection.
+
+Sitting in his chair after supper, he talked earnestly of the matter
+with Marietta, who sat opposite him with her work, by the large brass
+lamp. For the present he had almost forgotten the question of her
+marriage, for all his former affection for Zorzi had returned, with the
+conviction of his innocence, and the case was very urgent. That very
+night Zorzi might be found, and on the next morning he might be brought
+before the Ten to be examined. Marietta thought with terror of the awful
+tales Nella had told her about the little torture chamber behind the
+hall of the Council.
+
+"Who is that Messer Zuan Venier, who came to see Zorzi?" asked Marietta
+suddenly.
+
+"A young man who fought very bravely in the East, I believe," answered
+Beroviero. "His father was the Admiral of the Republic for some time."
+
+"He has talked with Zorzi," said Marietta. "Pasquale said so. He must
+have liked him, of course; and none of the other patricians you have
+mentioned have ever seen him. Messer Zuan is not in office, and has
+nothing to lose. Perhaps he will be willing to use his influence with
+his father. If only the Ten could know the whole truth before Zorzi is
+brought before them, it would be very different."
+
+Beroviero saw that there was some wisdom in applying to a younger man,
+like Zuan Venier, who had nothing at stake, and since Venier had come to
+visit him, there could be nothing strange in his returning the courtesy
+as soon as he conveniently could.
+
+On the following morning therefore the master betook himself to Venice
+in his gondola. Pasquale was already gone in the skiff, on the errand
+entrusted to him. He had judged it best not to put on his Sunday
+clothes, nor his clean shirt, nor to waste time in improving his
+appearance at the barber's, for he had been shaved on Saturday night as
+usual and the week was not yet half over. Hidden in the bow of the
+little boat there lay his provision for the day, half a loaf of bread, a
+thick slice of cheese and two onions, with an earthen bottle of water.
+With these supplies the old sailor knew that he could roam the canals of
+Venice for twenty-four hours if he chose, and he also had some money in
+case it should seem wise to ply an acquaintance with a little strong
+wine in order to promote conversation.
+
+The morning was sultry and a light haze hung over the islands at
+sunrise, which is by no means usual. Pasquale sniffed the air as he
+rowed himself through the narrow canals. There was a mingled smell of
+stagnant salt water, cabbage stalks, water-melons and wood smoke long
+unfamiliar to him, and reminding him pleasantly of his childhood.
+Wherever a bit of stone pier ran along by an open space, scores of
+olive-skinned boys were bathing, and as he passed they yelled at him and
+splashed him. Many a time he had done the same, long ago, and had
+sometimes got a sharp knock from the blade of an oar for his pains.
+
+The high walls made brown shadows, that struck across the greenish
+water, shivering away to long streaks of broken light and shade, and
+trying to dance and rock themselves together for a moment before a
+passing boat disturbed them again. In the shade boats were moored, laden
+with fresh vegetables, and with jars of milk brought in from the islands
+and the mainland before dawn. From open windows, here and there,
+red-haired women with dark eyes looked down idly, and breathed the
+morning air for a few minutes before beginning their household work. The
+bells of Saint John and Saint Paul were ringing to low mass, and a few
+old women with black shawls over their heads, and wooden clogs on their
+feet, made a faint clattering as they straggled to the door.
+
+It was long since Pasquale had been in Venice. He could not remember
+exactly how many years had passed, but the city had changed little, and
+still after many centuries there is but little and slow change. The ways
+and turnings were as familiar to him as ever, and would have been
+unforgotten if he had never taken the trouble to cross the lagoon again,
+to his dying day. The soft sounds, the violent colours, the splendid
+gloom of deep-arched halls that went straight from the great open door
+at the water's edge to the shadowy heart of the palace within; the
+boatmen polishing the metal work of their gondolas with brick dust and
+olive oil; the servants, still in rough working clothes, sweeping the
+steps, and trimming off the charred hemp-wicks of torches that had been
+used in the night; the single woman's voice far overhead that broke the
+silence of some narrow way, singing its song for sheer gladness of an
+idle heart; it was all as it used to be, and Pasquale had a dim
+consciousness that he loved it better than his dreary little den in
+Murano, and better than his Sunday walk as far as San Donato, when all
+the handsome women and pretty girls of the smaller people were laughing
+away the cool hours and showing off their little fineries. It was but a
+vague suggestion of a sentiment with him, and no more. He knew that he
+should starve if he came back to Venice, and what was the pleasant smell
+of the cabbage stalks and water-melons that it should compare with the
+security of daily bread and lodging, with some money to spare, and two
+suits of clothes every year, which his master gave him in return for
+keeping a single door shut?
+
+He pushed out upon the Grand Canal, where as yet there were few boats
+and no gondolas at all, and soon he turned the corner of the Salute and
+rowed out slowly upon the Giudecca, where the merchant vessels lay at
+anchor, large and small, galliots and feluccas and many a broad
+'trabacolo' from the Istrian coast, with huge spreading bows, and hawse
+ports painted scarlet like great red eyes. The old sailor's heart was
+gladdened by the sight of them, and as he rested on his single oar, he
+gently cursed the land, and all landlocked places, and rivers and fresh
+water, and all lakes and inland canals, and wished himself once more on
+the high seas with a stout vessel, a lazy captain, a dozen hard-fisted
+shipmates and a quarter of a century less to his account of years.
+
+He had been dreaming a little, and now he bent to the oar again and sent
+the skiff quietly along by the pier, looking out for any idle seamen who
+might be led into conversation. Before long he spied a couple, sitting
+on the edge of the stones near some steps and fishing with long canes.
+He passed them, of course, without looking at them, lest they should
+suspect that he had come their way purposely, and he made the skiff fast
+by the stair, after which he sat down on a thwart and stared vacantly at
+things in general, being careful not to bestow a glance on the two men.
+Presently one of them caught a small fish, and Pasquale judged that the
+moment for scraping an acquaintance had begun. He turned his head and
+watched how the man unhooked the fish and dropped it flapping into a
+basket made of half-dried rushes.
+
+"There are no whales in the canal," he observed. "There are not even
+tunny fish. But what there is, it seems that you know how to catch."
+
+"I do what I can, according to my little skill," answered the man. "It
+passes the time, and then it is always something to eat with the
+bread."
+
+"Yes," Pasquale answered. "A roasted fish on bread with a little oil is
+very savoury. As for passing the time, I suppose that you are looking
+for a ship."
+
+"Of course," the man replied. "If we had a ship we should not be here
+fishing! It is a bad time of the year, you must know, for most of the
+Venetian vessels are at sea, and we do not care to ship with any
+Neapolitan captain who chances to have starved some of his crew to
+death!"
+
+"I have heard of a rich Greek merchant captain who has been in Venice
+some time," observed Pasquale carelessly. "He will be looking out for a
+crew before long."
+
+"Is Captain Aristarchi going to sea at last?" asked the man who had not
+spoken yet. "Or do you mean some other captain?"
+
+"That is the name, I believe," said Pasquale. "It was an outlandish name
+like that. Do you ever see him about the docks? I saw him once, a piece
+of man, I tell you, with bones like a bull and a face like a bear."
+
+"He is not often seen," answered the man who had spoken last. "That is
+his ship; over there, between the 'trabacolo' and the dismasted hulk."
+
+"I see her," returned Pasquale at once. "A thorough Greek she is, too,
+by her looks, but well kept enough if she is only, waiting for a cargo,
+with two or three hands on board."
+
+The men laughed a little at Pasquale's ignorance concerning the vessel.
+
+"She has a full crew," said one. "She is always ready for sea at any
+moment, with provisions and water. No one can understand what the
+captain means, nor why he is here, nor why he is willing to pay twenty
+men for doing nothing."
+
+"Does the captain live on board of her?" inquired Pasquale
+indifferently.
+
+"Not he! He is amusing himself in Venice. He has hired a house by the
+month, not far from the Baker's Bridge, and there he has been living for
+a long time."
+
+"He must be very rich," observed Pasquale, who had found out what he
+wished to know, but was too wise to let the conversation drop too
+abruptly. "From what you say, however, he needs no more hands on his
+vessel," he added.
+
+"It is not for us," answered the man. "We will ship with a captain we
+know, and with shipmates from our own country, who are Christians and
+understand the compass."
+
+This he said because all sea-going vessels did not carry a compass in
+those days.
+
+"And until we can pick up a ship we like," added the other man, "we will
+live on bread and water, and if we can catch a fish now and then in the
+canal, so much the better."
+
+Pasquale cast off the bit of line that moored his skiff, shipped his
+single oar, and with a parting word to the men, he pushed off.
+
+"You are quite right!" he said. "Eh! A roast fish is a savoury thing."
+
+They nodded to him and again became intent on their pastime. Pasquale
+rowed faster than before, and he passed close under the stern of the
+Greek vessel. The mate was leaning over the taffrail under the poop
+awning. He was dressed in baggy garments of spotless white, his big blue
+cap was stuck far back on his head, and his strong brown arms were bare
+to the elbow. He looked as broad as he was long.
+
+"Is the captain on board, sir?" asked Pasquale, at a venture, but
+looking at the mate with interest.
+
+He expected that he would answer the question in the negative, by
+sticking out his jaw and throwing his head a little backward. To his
+surprise the mate returned his gaze a moment, and then stood upright.
+
+"Keep under the counter," he said in fairly good Italian. "I will go and
+see if the captain is in his cabin."
+
+Pasquale waited, and in a few moments the mate returned, dropped a
+Jacob's ladder over the taffrail and made it fast on board. Pasquale
+hitched the painter of the skiff to the end that hung down, and went up
+easily enough in spite of his age and stiffened joints. He climbed over
+the rail and stood beside the mate. The instant his feet touched the
+white deck he wished he had put on his Sunday hose and his clean shirt.
+He touched his cap, as he assuredly would not have done ashore, to any
+one but his master.
+
+"You seem to have been a sailor," said the Greek mate, in an approving
+tone.
+
+"Yes, sir," answered Pasquale. "Is Zorzi still safe?"
+
+"The captain will tell you about Zorzi," was the mate's answer, as he
+led the way.
+
+Aristarchi was seated with one leg under him on a inroad transom over
+which was spread a priceless Persian silk carpet, such as the richest
+patrician in Venice would have hung on the wall like a tapestry of great
+value. He looked at Pasquale, and the latter heard the door shut behind
+him. At the same instant a well-known voice greeted him by name, as
+Zorzi himself appeared from the inner cabin.
+
+"I did not expect to find you so soon," said the porter with a growl of
+satisfaction.
+
+"I wish you had found him sooner," laughed Aristarchi carelessly. "And
+since you are here, I hope you will carry him off with you and never let
+me see his face again, till all this disturbance is over! I would rather
+have carried off the Doge himself, with his precious velvet night-cap on
+his head, than have taken this fellow the other night. All Venice is
+after him. I was just going to drown him, to get rid of him."
+
+There was a sort of savage good-nature in the Greek's tone which was
+reassuring, in spite of his ferocious looks and words.
+
+"You would have been hanged if you had," observed Pasquale in answer to
+the last words.
+
+Zorzi was evidently none the worse for what had happened to him since
+his arrest and unexpected liberation. He was not of the sort that suffer
+by the imagination when there is real danger, for he had plenty of good
+sense. Pasquale told him that the master had returned.
+
+"We knew it yesterday," Zorzi answered. "The captain seems to know
+everything."
+
+"Listen to me, friend porter," Aristarchi said. "If you will take this
+young fellow with you I shall be obliged to you. I took him from the
+Governor's men out of mere kindness of heart, because I liked him the
+first time I saw him, but the Ten are determined to get him into their
+hands, and I have no fancy to go with him and answer for the half-dozen
+crowns my mate and I broke in that frolic at Murano."
+
+Pasquale's small eyes twinkled at the thought of the discomfited
+archers.
+
+"We have changed our lodgings three times since yesterday afternoon,"
+continued Aristarchi, "and I am tired of carrying this lame
+bottle-blower up and down rope ladders, when the Signors of the Night
+are at the door. So drop him over the rail into your boat and let me
+lead a peaceful life."
+
+"Like an honest merchant captain as you are," added Pasquale with a
+grin. "We have been anxious for you," he added, looking at Zorzi. "The
+master is in Venice this morning, to see his friends on your behalf, I
+think."
+
+"If we go back openly," said Zorzi, "we may both be taken at any
+moment."
+
+"If they catch me," answered Pasquale, "they will heave me overboard. I
+am not worth salting. But they need not catch either of us. Once in the
+laboratory at Murano, they will never find you. That is the one place
+where they will not look for you."
+
+The mate put his head down through the small hatch overhead.
+
+"I do not like the look of a boat that has just put off from Saint
+George's," he said.
+
+Aristarchi sprang to his feet.
+
+"Pick him up and drop him into the porter's skiff," he said. "I am sick
+of dancing with the fellow in my arms."
+
+With incredible ease Aristarchi took Zorzi round the waist, mounted the
+cabin table and passed him up through the hatch to the mate, who had
+already brought him to the Jacob's ladder at the stern before Pasquale
+could get there by the ordinary way.
+
+"Quick, man!" said the mate, as the old sailor climbed over the rail.
+
+At the same time he slipped the bight of short rope round Zorzi's body
+under his arms and got a turn round the rail with both parts, so as to
+lower him easily. Zorzi helped himself as well as he could, and in a few
+moments he was lying in the bottom of the skiff, covered with a piece of
+sacking which the mate threw down, the rope ladder was hauled up and
+disappeared, and when Pasquale glanced back as he rowed slowly away, the
+mate was leaning over the taffrail in an attitude of easy unconcern.
+
+The old porter had smuggled more than one bale of rich goods ashore in
+his young days, for a captain who had a dislike of the customs, and he
+knew that his chance of safety lay not in speed, but in showing a cool
+indifference. He might have dropped down the Giudecca at a good rate,
+for the tide was fair, but he preferred a direction that would take him
+right across the course of the boat which the mate had seen coming, as
+if he were on his way to the Lido.
+
+The officer of the Ten, with four men in plain brown coats and leathern
+belts, sat in the stern of the eight-oared launch that swept swiftly
+past the skiff towards the vessels at anchor. Pasquale rested on his oar
+a moment and turned to look, with an air of interest that would have
+disarmed any suspicions the officer might have entertained. But he had
+none, and did not bestow a second glance on the little craft with its
+shabby oarsman. Then Pasquale began to row again, with a long even
+stroke that had no air of haste about it, but which kept the skiff at a
+good speed. When he saw that he was out of hearing of other boats, and
+heading for the Lido, he began to tell what he intended to do next, in a
+low monotonous tone, glancing down now and then at Zorzi's face that
+cautiously peered at him out from the folds of the sackcloth.
+
+"I will tell you when to cover yourself," he said, speaking at the
+horizon. "We shall have to spend the day under one of the islands. I
+have some bread and cheese and water, and there are onions. When it is
+night I will just slip into our canal at Murano, and you can sleep in
+the laboratory, as if you had never left it."
+
+"If they find me there, they cannot say that I am hiding," said Zorzi
+with a low laugh.
+
+"Lie low," said Pasquale softly. "There is a boat coming."
+
+For ten minutes neither spoke, and Zorzi lay quite still, covering his
+face. When the danger was past Pasquale began to talk again, and told
+him all he himself knew of what had happened, which was not much, but
+which included the assurance that the master was for him, and had turned
+against Giovanni.
+
+"As for me," said Zorzi, by and by, when they were moored to a stake,
+far out in the lagoon, "I was whirled from place to place by those two
+men, till I did not know where I was. When they first carried me off,
+they made me lie in the bottom of their boat as I am lying now, and they
+took me to a house somewhere near the Baker's Bridge. Do you know the
+house of the Agnus Dei?"
+
+Pasquale grunted.
+
+"It was not far from that," Zorzi continued. "Aristarchi lives there.
+The mate went back to the ship, I suppose, and Aristarchi's servant gave
+us supper. Then we slept quietly till morning and I stayed there all
+day, but Aristarchi thought it would not be safe to keep me in his house
+the next night--that was last night. He said he feared that a certain
+lady had guessed where I was. He is a mysterious individual, this Greek!
+So I was taken somewhere else in the bottom of a boat, after dark. I do
+not know where it was, but I think it must have been the garret of some
+tavern where they play dice. After midnight I heard a great commotion
+below me, and presently Aristarchi appeared at the window with a rope.
+He always seems to have a coil of rope within reach! He tied me to
+him--it was like being tied to a wild horse--and he got us safely down
+from the window to the boat again, and the mate was in it, and they took
+me to the ship faster than I was ever rowed in my life. You know the
+rest."
+
+All through the long July day they lay in the fierce sun, shading
+themselves with the sacking as best they could. But when it was dark at
+last, Pasquale cast off and headed the skiff for Murano.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+
+Jacopo Contarini's luck at dice had changed of late, and his friends no
+longer spoke of losing like him, but of winning as he did, on almost
+every throw.
+
+"Nevertheless," said the big Foscari to Zuan Venier, "his love affairs
+seem to prosper! The Georgian is as beautiful as ever, and he is going
+to marry a rich wife."
+
+It was the afternoon of the day on which Zorzi had left Aristarchi's
+ship, and the two patricians were lounging in the shady Merceria, where
+the overhanging balconies of the wooden houses almost met above, and the
+merchants sat below in the windows of their deep shops, on the little
+platforms which were at once counters and window-sills. The street smelt
+of Eastern silks and Spanish leather, and of the Egyptian pastils which
+the merchants of perfumery continually burnt in order to attract custom.
+
+"I am not qualmish," answered Venier languidly, "yet it sickens me to
+think of the life Jacopo means to lead. I am sorry for the glass-maker's
+daughter."
+
+Foscari laughed carelessly. The idea that a woman should be looked upon
+as anything more than a slave or an object of prey had never occurred to
+him. But Venier did not smile.
+
+"Since we speak of glass-makers," he said, "Jacopo is doing his best to
+get that unlucky Dalmatian imprisoned and banished. Old Beroviero came
+to see me this morning and told me a long story about it, which I cannot
+possibly remember; but it seems to me--you understand!"
+
+He spoke in low tones, for the Merceria was crowded. Foscari, who was
+one of those who took most seriously the ceremonial of the secret
+society, while not caring a straw for its political side, looked very
+grave.
+
+"It is of no use to say that the poor fellow is only a glass-blower,"
+Venier continued. "There are men besides patricians in the world, and
+good men, too. I mean to tell Contarini what I think of it to-night."
+
+"I will, too," said Foscari at once.
+
+"And I intend to use all the influence my family has, to obtain a fair
+hearing for the Dalmatian. I hope you will help me. Amongst us we can
+reach every one of the Council of Ten, except old Contarini, who has the
+soul of a school-master and the intelligence of a crab. If I did not
+like the fellow, I suppose I should let him be hanged several times
+rather than take so much trouble. Sins of omission are my strongest
+point. I have always surprised my confessor at Easter by the
+extraordinary number of things I have left undone."
+
+"I daresay," laughed Foscari, "but I remember that you were not too
+lazy to save me from drowning when I fell into the Grand Canal in
+carnival."
+
+"I forgot that the water was so cold," said Venier. "If I had guessed
+how chilly it was, I should certainly not have pulled you out. There is
+old Hossein at his window. Let us go in and drink sherbet."
+
+"We shall find Mocenigo and Loredan there," answered Foscari. "They
+shall promise to help the glass-blower, too."
+
+They nodded to the Persian merchant, who saluted them by extending his
+hand towards the ground as if to take up dust, and then bringing it to
+his forehead. He was very fat, and his pear-shaped face might have been
+carved out of white cheese. The two young men went in by a small door at
+the side of the window-counter and disappeared into the interior. At the
+back of the shop there was a private room with a latticed window that
+looked out upon a narrow canal. It was one of many places where the
+young Venetians met in the afternoon to play at dice undisturbed, on
+pretence of examining Hossein's splendid carpets and Oriental silks.
+Moreover Hossein's wife, always invisible but ever near, had a
+marvellous gift for making fruit sherbets, cooled with the snow that was
+brought down daily from the mountains on the mainland in dripping bales
+covered with straw matting.
+
+Loredan and Mocenigo were already there, as Foscari had anticipated,
+eating pistachio nuts and sipping sherbet through rice straws out of
+tall glasses from Murano. It was a very safe place, for Hossein's
+knowledge of the Italian language was of a purely commercial character,
+embracing every numeral and fraction, common or uncommon, and the names
+of all the hundreds of foreign coins that passed current in Venice,
+together with half-a-dozen necessary phrases; and his invisible but
+occasionally audible wife understood no Italian at all. Also, Hossein
+was always willing to lend any young patrician money with which to pay
+his losses, at the modest rate of seven ducats to be paid every week for
+the use of each hundred; which one of the youths, who had a turn for
+arithmetic, had discovered to be only about 364 per cent yearly, whereas
+Casadio, the Hebrew, had a method of his own by which he managed to get
+about 580. It was therefore a real economy to frequent Hossein's shop.
+
+In spite of his pretended forgetfulness, Venier remembered every word
+that Beroviero had told him, and indolently as he talked, his whole
+nature was roused to defend Zorzi. In his heart he despised Contarini,
+and hoped that his marriage might never take place, for he was sincerely
+sorry for Marietta; but it was Jacopo's behaviour towards Zorzi that
+called forth his wrath, it was the man's disdainful assumption that
+because Zorzi was not a patrician, the oath to defend every companion of
+the society was not binding where he was concerned; it was the insolent
+certainty that the others should all be glad to be rid of the poor
+Dalmatian, who after all had not troubled them over-much with his
+company. On that very evening they were to meet at the house of the
+Agnus Dei, and Venier was determined to speak his mind. When he chose
+to exert himself, his influence over his companions was very great, if
+not supreme.
+
+He soon brought Mocenigo and Loredan to share his opinion and to promise
+the support of all their many relations in Zorzi's favour, and the four
+began to play, for lack of anything better to do. Before long others of
+the society came in, and as each arrived Venier, who only played in
+order not to seem as unsociable as he generally felt, set down the dice
+box to gain over a new ally. An hour had passed when Contarini himself
+appeared, even more magnificent than usual, his beautiful waving beard
+most carefully trimmed and combed as if to show it to its greatest
+advantage against the purple silk of a surcoat cut in a new fashion and
+which he was wearing for the first time. His white hands were splendid
+with jewelled rings, and he wore at his belt a large wallet-purse
+embroidered in Constantinople before the coming of the Turks and adorned
+with three enamelled images of saints. Hossein himself ushered him in,
+as if he were the guest of honour, as the Persian merchant indeed
+considered him, for none of the others had ever paid him half so many
+seven weekly ducats for money borrowed in all their lives, as Jacopo had
+often paid in a single year.
+
+There are men whom no one respects very highly, who are not sincerely
+trusted, whose honour is not spotless and whose ways are far from
+straight, but who nevertheless hold a certain ascendancy over others, by
+mere show and assurance. When Contarini entered a place where many were
+gathered together, there was almost always a little hush in the talk,
+followed by a murmur that was pleasant in his ear. No one paused to look
+at Zuan Venier when he came into a room, though there was not one of his
+friends who would not have gone to him in danger or difficulty, without
+so much as thinking of Contarini as a possible helper in trouble. But it
+was almost impossible not to feel a sort of artistic surprise at
+Jacopo's extraordinary beauty of face and figure, if not at the splendid
+garments in which he delighted to array himself.
+
+It was with a slight condescension that he greeted the group of players,
+some of whom at once made a place for him at the table. They had been
+ready enough to stand by Venier against him in Zorzi's defence, but
+unless Venier led the way, there was not one of them who would think of
+opposing him, or taking him to task for what was very like a betrayal.
+Venier returned his greeting with some coldness, which Contarini hardly
+noticed, as his reception by the others had been sufficiently
+flattering. Then they began to play.
+
+Jacopo won from the first. Foscari bent his heavy eyebrows and tugged at
+his beard angrily, as he lost one throw after another; the cold sweat
+stood on Mocenigo's forehead in beads, as he risked more and more, and
+Loredan's hand trembled when it was his turn to take up the dice box
+against Contarini; for they played a game in which each threw against
+all the rest in succession.
+
+"You cannot say that the dice are loaded," laughed Contarini at last,
+"for they are your own!"
+
+"The delicacy of the thought is only exceeded by the good taste that
+expresses it," observed Venier.
+
+"You are sarcastic, my friend," answered Jacopo, shaking the dice. "It
+is your turn with me."
+
+Jacopo threw first. Venier followed him and lost.
+
+"That is my last throw," he said, as he pushed the remains of his small
+heap of gold across to Contarini. "I have no more money to-day, nor
+shall I have to-morrow."
+
+"Hossein has plenty," suggested Foscari, who hoped that Contarini's luck
+would desert him before long.
+
+"At this rate you will need all he has," returned Venier with a careless
+laugh.
+
+Before long more than one of the players was obliged to call in the
+ever-complacent Persian merchant, and the heap of gold grew in front of
+Jacopo, till he could hardly keep it together.
+
+"It is true that you have been losing for years," said Mocenigo, trying
+to laugh, "but we did not think you would win back all your losses in a
+day."
+
+"You shall have your revenge to-night," answered Contarini, rising. "I
+am expected at a friend's house at this hour."
+
+His large wallet was so full of gold that he could hardly draw the
+strong silken strings together and tie them.
+
+"A friend's house!" laughed Loredan, who had lost somewhat less than the
+others. "It would give us much delight to know the colour of the lady's
+hair!"
+
+To this Contarini answered only by a smile, which was not devoid of
+satisfaction.
+
+"Take care!" said Foscari, gloomily contemplating the bare table before
+him, over which so much of his good gold had slipped away. "Take care!
+Luck at play, mischance in love, says the proverb."
+
+"Oh! In that case I congratulate you, my dear friend!" returned
+Contarini gaily.
+
+The others laughed at the retort, and the party broke up, though all did
+not go at once. Venier went out alone, while two or three walked with
+Contarini to his gondola. The rest stayed behind in the shop and made
+old Hossein unroll his choicest carpets and show them his most precious
+embroideries, though he protested that it was already much too dark to
+appreciate such choice things. But they did not wish to be seen coming
+away in a body, for such playing was very strictly forbidden, and the
+spies of the Ten were everywhere.
+
+Contarini dismissed his gondola at the house of the Agnus Dei, and was
+admitted by the trusted servant who had once taken a message to Zorzi.
+He found Arisa waiting for him in her favourite place by the open
+window, and the glow of the setting sun made little fires in her golden
+hair. She could tell by his face that he had been fortunate at play, and
+her smile was very soft and winning. As he sank down beside her in the
+luxurious silence of satisfaction, her fingers were stealthily trying
+the weight of his laden wallet. She could not lift it with one hand. She
+smiled again, as she thought how easily Aristarchi would carry the money
+in his teeth, well tied and knotted in a kerchief, when he slipped down
+the silk rope from her window, though it would be much wiser to exchange
+it for pearls and diamonds which Contarini might see and admire, and
+which she could easily take with her in her final flight.
+
+He trusted her, too, in his careless way, and that night, when he was
+ready to go down and admit his companions, he would empty most of the
+gold into a little coffer in which he often left the key, taking but
+just enough to play with, and almost sure of winning more.
+
+She was very gentle on that evening, when the sun had gone down, and
+they sat in the deepening dusk, and she spoke sadly of not seeing him
+for several hours. It would be so lonely, she said, and since he could
+play in the daytime, why should he give up half of one precious night to
+those tiresome dice? He laughed indolently, pleased that she should not
+even suspect the real object of the meetings.
+
+By and by, when it was an hour after dark, and they had eaten of
+delicate things which a silent old woman brought them on small silver
+platters, Contarini went down to let in his guests, and Arisa was alone,
+as usual on such evenings. For a long time she lay quite still among the
+cushions, in the dark, for Jacopo had taken the light with him. She
+loved to be in darkness, as she always told him, and for very good
+reasons, and she had so accustomed herself to it as to see almost as
+well as Aristarchi himself, for whom she was waiting.
+
+At last she heard the expected signal of his coming, the soft and
+repeated splashing of an oar in the water just below the window. In a
+moment she was in the inner room, to receive him in her straining arms,
+longing to be half crushed to death in his. But to-night, even as he
+held her in the first embrace of meeting, she felt that something had
+happened, and that there was a change in him. She drew him to the little
+light that burned in her chamber before the image, and looked into his
+face, terrified at the thought of what she might see there. He smiled at
+her and raised his shaggy eyebrows as if to ask if she really distrusted
+him.
+
+"Yes," he said, nodding his big head slowly, "something has happened.
+You are quick at guessing. We are going to-night. There is moonlight and
+the tide will serve in two or three hours. Get ready what you need and
+put together the jewels and the money."
+
+"To-night!" cried Arisa, very much surprised. "To-night? Do you really
+mean it?"
+
+"Yes. I am in earnest. Michael has emptied my house of all my belongings
+to-day and has taken the keys back to the owner. We have plenty of time,
+for I suppose those overgrown boys are playing at dice downstairs, and I
+think I shall take leave of Contarini in person."
+
+"You are capable of anything!" laughed Arisa. "I should like to see you
+tear him into little strips, so that every shred should keep alive to be
+tortured!"
+
+"How amiable! What gentle thoughts you have! Indeed, you women are sweet
+creatures!"
+
+With her small white hand she jestingly pretended to box his huge ears.
+
+"You would be well paid if I refused to go with you," she said with a
+low laugh. "But I should like to know why you have decided so suddenly.
+What is the matter? What is to become of all our plans, and of
+Contarini's marriage? Tell me quickly!"
+
+"I have had a visit from an officer of the Ten to-day," he said. "The
+Ten send me greeting, as it were, and their service, and kindly invite
+me to leave Venice within twenty-four hours. As the Ten are the only
+persons in Venice for whom I have the smallest respect, I shall show it
+by accepting their invitation."
+
+"But why? What have you done?"
+
+"Of course it is not a serious matter to give a sound beating to an
+officer of justice and six of his men," answered Aristarchi, "but it is
+not the custom here, and they suspect me of having done it. To tell the
+truth, I think I am hardly treated. I have sent Zorzi back to Murano,
+and if the Ten have the sense to look for him where he has been living
+for five years, they will find him at once, at work in that stifling
+furnace-room. But I fancy that is too simple for them."
+
+He told her how Pasquale had come in the morning, and how the officer
+who had been in pursuit of him had searched the ship for Zorzi in vain.
+The order to leave Venice had come an hour later. The anchors were now
+up, and the vessel was riding to a kedge by a light hawser, well out in
+the channel. As soon as Arisa could be brought on board Aristarchi meant
+to make sail, for the strong offshore breeze would blow all night.
+
+"We may as well leave nothing behind," said Aristarchi coolly. "Michael
+will wait for us below, in one of the ship's boats. There is room for
+all Contarini's possessions, if we could only get at them."
+
+"Would it not be better to be content with what we have already, and to
+go at once?" asked Arisa rather timidly.
+
+"No," replied Aristarchi. "I am going to say good-bye to your old friend
+in my own way."
+
+"Do you mean to kill him?" asked Arisa in a whisper, though it was quite
+safe for them to talk in natural tones. "I could go behind him and throw
+something over his head."
+
+Aristarchi grinned, and pressed her beautiful head to his breast,
+caressing her with his rough hands.
+
+"You are as bloodthirsty as a little tigress," he said. "No. I do not
+even mean to hurt him."
+
+"Oh, I hoped you would," answered the Georgian woman. "I have hated him
+so long. Will you not kill him, just to please me? We could wind him in
+a sheet with a weight, you know, and drop him into the canal, and no one
+would ever know. I have often thought of it."
+
+"Have you, my gentle little sweetheart?" Aristarchi chuckled with
+delight as he stroked her hair. "I am sorry," he continued. "The fact
+is, I am not a Georgian like you. I have been brought up among people of
+civilisation, and I have scruples about killing any one. Besides, sweet
+dove, if we were to kill the son of one of the Council of Ten, the
+Council would pursue us wherever we went, for Venice is very powerful.
+But the Ten will not lift a hand to revenge a good-for-nothing young
+gamester whose slave has run away with her first love! Every one will
+laugh at Contarini if he tries to get redress. It is better to laugh
+than to be laughed at, it is better to be laughed at than to cry, it is
+better to cry one's eyes blind than to be hanged."
+
+Having delivered himself of these opinions Aristarchi began to look
+about him for whatever might be worth the trouble of carrying off, and
+Arisa collected all her jewels from the caskets in which they were kept,
+and little bags of gold coins which she had hidden in different places.
+She also lit a candle and brought Aristarchi to the small coffer in
+which Contarini kept ready gold for play, and which was now more than
+half full.
+
+"The dowry of the glass-maker's daughter!" observed the Greek as he
+carried it off.
+
+There were small objects of gold and silver on the tables in the large
+room, there was a dagger with a jewelled hilt, an illuminated mass book
+in a chased silver case.
+
+"You will need it on Sundays at sea," said Aristarchi.
+
+"I cannot read," said the Georgian slave regretfully. "But it will be a
+consolation to have the missal."
+
+Aristarchi smiled and tossed the book upon the heap of things.
+
+"It would be amusing to pay a visit to those young fools downstairs, and
+to take all their money and leave them locked up for the night," he
+said, as if a thought had struck him.
+
+"There are too many of them," answered Arisa, laying her hand anxiously
+upon his arm. "And they are all armed. Please do nothing so foolish."
+
+"If they are all like Contarini, I do not mind twenty of them or so,"
+laughed Aristarchi. "They must have more than a thousand gold ducats
+amongst them. That would be worth taking."
+
+"They are not all like Contarini," said Arisa. "There is Zuan Venier,
+for instance."
+
+"Zuan Venier? Is he one of them? I have heard of him. I should like to
+see whether he could be frightened, for they say it is impossible."
+
+Aristarchi scratched his head, pushing his shaggy hair forward over his
+forehead, as he tried to think of an effectual scheme for producing the
+desired result.
+
+"The Ten might pursue us for that, as well as for a murder," said Arisa.
+
+Meanwhile the friends assembled in the room downstairs had been occupied
+for a long time in hearing what Zuan Venier had to say to Jacopo
+Contarini, concerning the latter's treatment of Zorzi. For Venier had
+kept his word, and as soon as all were present he had boldly spoken his
+mind, in a tone which his friends were not accustomed to hear. At first
+Contarini had answered with offended surprise, asking what concern it
+could be of Venier's whether a miserable glass-blower were exiled or
+not, and he appealed to the others, asking whether it would not be far
+better for them all that such an outsider as Zorzi should be banished
+from Venice. But Venier retorted that the Dalmatian had taken the same
+oath as the rest of the company, that he was an honest man, besides
+being a great artist as his master asseverated, and that he had the same
+right to the protection of each and all of them as Contarini himself. To
+the latter's astonishment this speech was received with unanimous
+approbation, and every man present, except Contarini, promised his help
+and that of his family, so far as he might obtain it.
+
+"I have advised Beroviero," Venier then continued, "if he can find the
+young artist, to make him go before the Council of Ten of his own free
+will, taking some of his works with him. And now that this question is
+settled, I propose to you all that our society cease to have any
+political or revolutionary aim whatever, for I am of opinion that we are
+risking our necks for a game at dice and for nothing else, which is
+childish. The only liberty we are vindicating, so far as I can see, is
+that of gaming as much as we please, and if we do that, and nothing
+more, we shall certainly not go between the red columns for it. A fine
+or a few months of banishment to the mainland would be the worst that
+could happen. As things are now, we are not only in danger of losing
+our heads at any moment, which is an affair of merely relative
+importance, but we may be tempted to make light of a solemn promise,
+which seems to me a very grave matter."
+
+Thereupon Venier looked round the table, and almost all the men were of
+his opinion. Contarini flushed angrily, but he knew himself to be in the
+wrong and though he was no coward, he had not the sort of temper that
+faces opposition for its own sake. He therefore began to rattle the dice
+in the box as a hint to all that the discussion was at an end.
+
+But his good fortune seemed gone, and instead of winning at almost every
+throw, as he had won in the afternoon, he soon found that he had almost
+exhausted the heap of gold he had laid on the table, and which he had
+thought more than enough. He staked the remainder with Foscari, who won
+it at a cast, and laughed.
+
+"You offered us our revenge," said the big man. "We mean to take it!"
+
+But though Contarini was not a good fighter, he was a good gamester, and
+never allowed himself to be disturbed by ill-luck. He joined in the
+laugh and rose from the table.
+
+"You must forgive me," he said, "if I leave you for a moment. I must
+fill my purse before I play again."
+
+"Do not stay too long!" laughed Loredan. "If you do, we shall come and
+get you, and then we shall know the colour of the lady's hair."
+
+Contarini laughed as he went to the door, opened it and stealthily set
+the key in the lock on the outside.
+
+"I shall lock you in while I am gone!" he cried. "You are far too
+inquisitive!"
+
+Laughing gaily he turned the key on the whole company, and he heard
+their answering laughter as he went away, for they accepted the jest,
+and continued playing.
+
+He entered the large room upstairs, just as Aristarchi had finished
+tying up the heavy bundle in the inner chamber. Arisa heard the
+well-known footstep, and placed one hand over Aristarchi's mouth, lest
+he should speak, while the other pointed to the curtained door. The
+Greek held his breath.
+
+"Arisa! Arisa!" Contarini called out. "Bring me a light, sweetest!"
+
+Without hesitation Arisa took the lighted candle, and making a gesture
+of warning to Aristarchi went quickly to the other room. The Greek crept
+towards the door, the big veins standing out like knots on his rugged
+temples, his great hands opened wide, with the tips of the fingers a
+little turned in. He was like a wrestler ready to get his hold with a
+spring.
+
+"I want some more money," Contarini was saying, in explanation. "They
+said they would follow me if I stayed too long, so I have locked them
+in! I think I shall keep them waiting a while. What do you say, love?"
+
+He laughed again, aloud, and on the other side of the curtain Aristarchi
+grinned from ear to ear and noiselessly loosened the black sash he wore
+round his waist. For once in his life, as Zorzi would have said, he had
+not a coil of rope at hand when he needed it, but the sash was strong
+and would serve the purpose. He pushed the curtain aside, a very little,
+in order to see before springing.
+
+Contarini stood half turned away from the door, clasping Arisa to his
+breast and kissing her hair. The next moment he was sprawling on the
+floor, face downwards, and Arisa was pressing one of the soft cushions
+from the divan upon his head to smother his cries, while Aristarchi
+bound his hands firmly together behind him with one end of the long
+sash, and in spite of his desperate struggle got a turn with the rest
+round both his feet, drew them back as far as he could and hitched the
+end twice. Jacopo was now perfectly helpless, but he was not yet dumb.
+Aristarchi had brought his tools with him, in the bosom of his doublet.
+
+Kneeling on Contarini's shoulders he took out a small iron instrument,
+shaped exactly like a pear, but which by a screw, placed where the stem
+would be, could be made to open out in four parts that spread like the
+petals of a flower. Arisa looked on with savage interest, for she
+believed that it was some horrible instrument of torture; and indeed it
+was the iron gag, the 'pear of anguish,' which the torturers used in
+those days, to silence those whom they called their patients.
+
+Holding the instrument closed, Aristarchi pushed his hand under the
+cushion. He knew that Contarini's mouth would be open, as he must be
+half suffocated and gasping for breath. In an instant the iron pear had
+slipped between his teeth and had opened its relentless leaves, obedient
+to the screw.
+
+"Take the pillow away," said Aristarchi quietly. "We can say good-bye to
+your old acquaintance now, but he will have to content himself with
+nodding his head in a friendly way."
+
+He turned the helpless man upon his side, for owing to the position of
+his heels and hands Contarini could not lie on his back. Then Aristarchi
+set the candle on the floor near his face and looked at him and indulged
+himself in a low laugh. Contarini's face was deep red with rage and
+suffocation, and his beautiful brown eyes were starting from their
+sockets with a terror which increased when he saw far the first time the
+man with whom he had to deal, or rather who was about to deal with him,
+and most probably without mercy. Then he caught sight of Arisa, smiling
+at him, but not as she had been wont to smile. Aristarchi spoke at last,
+in an easy, reassuring tone.
+
+"My friend," he said, "I am not going to hurt you any more. You may
+think it strange, but I really shall not kill you. Arisa and I have
+loved each other for a long time, and since she has lived here, I have
+come to her almost every night. I know your house almost as well as you
+do, and you have kindly told me that your friends are all looked in. We
+shall therefore not have the trouble of leaving by the window, since we
+can go out by the front door, where my boat will be waiting for us. You
+will never see us again."
+
+Contarini's eyes rolled wildly, and still Arisa smiled.
+
+"You have made him suffer," she said. "He loved me."
+
+"Before we go," continued the Greek, folding his arms and looking down
+upon his miserable enemy, "I think it fair to warn you that under the
+praying-stool in Arisa's room there is an air shaft through which we
+have heard all your conversation, during these secret meetings of yours.
+If you try to pursue us, I shall send information to the Ten, which will
+cut off most of your heads. As they are so empty it might seem to be
+scarcely worth while to take them, but the Ten know best. I can rely on
+your discretion. If I were not sure of it I would accede to this dear
+lady's urgent request and cut you up into small pieces."
+
+Contarini writhed and sputtered, but could make no sound.
+
+"I promised not to hurt you any more, my friend, and I am a man of my
+word. But I have long admired your hair and beard. You see I was in
+Saint Mark's when you went there to meet the glass-maker's daughter, and
+I have seen you at other times. I should be sorry never to see such a
+beautiful beard again, so I mean to take it with me, and if you will
+keep quiet, I shall really not hurt you."
+
+Thereupon he produced from his doublet a bright pair of shears, and
+knelt down by the wretched man's head. Contarini twisted himself as be
+might and tried instinctively to draw his head away.
+
+"I have heard that pirates sometimes accidentally cut off a prisoner's
+ear," said Aristarchi. "If you will not move, I am quite sure that I
+shall not be so awkward as to do that."
+
+Contarini now lay motionless, and Aristarchi went to work. With the
+utmost neatness he cropped off the silky hair, so close to Jacopo's
+skull that it almost looked as if it had been shaved with a razor. In
+the same way he clipped the splendid beard away, and even the brown
+eyebrows, till there was not a hair left on Contarini's head or face.
+Then he contemplated his work, and laughed at the weak jaw and the
+womanish mouth.
+
+"You look like an ugly woman in man's clothes," he said, by way of
+consoling his victim.
+
+He rose now, for he feared lest Contarini's friends might break open the
+door downstairs. He shouldered the heavy bundle with ease, set his blue
+cap on the back of his head and bade Arisa go with him. She had her
+mantle ready, but she could not resist casting delighted glances at her
+late owner's face. Before going, she knelt down one moment by his side,
+and inclined her face to his, with a very loving gaze. Lower and lower
+she bent, as if she would give him a parting kiss, till Aristarchi
+uttered an exclamation. Then she laughed cruelly, and with the back of
+her hand struck the lips that had so often touched her own.
+
+A few moments later Aristarchi had placed her in his boat, the heavy
+bundle of spoils lay at her feet, and the craft shot swiftly from the
+door of the house of the Agnus Dei. For Michael Pandos, the mate, had
+been waiting under the window, and a stroke of the oars brought him to
+the steps.
+
+In the closed room where the friends were playing dice, there began to
+be some astonishment at the time needed by Jacopo to replenish his
+purse. When more than half an hour had passed one pair stopped playing,
+and then another, until they were all listening for some sound in the
+silent house. The perfect stillness had something alarming in it, and
+none of them fully trusted Contarini.
+
+"I think," said Venier with all his habitual indolence, "that it is time
+to ascertain the colour of the lady's hair. Can you break the lock?"
+
+He spoke to Foscari, who nodded and went to the door with two or three
+others. In a few seconds it flew open before their combined attack, and
+they almost lost their balance as they staggered out into the dark hall.
+The rest brought lights and they all began to go up the stairs together.
+The first to enter the room was Foscari. Venier, always indifferent, was
+among the last.
+
+Foscari started at the extraordinary sight of a man in magnificent
+clothes, lying on one shoulder, with his heels tied up to his hands and
+his shorn head and face moving slowly from side to side in the bright
+light of the wax candle that stood on the floor. The other men crowded
+into the room, but at first no one recognised the master of the house.
+Then all at once Foscari saw the rings on his fingers.
+
+"It is Contarini," he cried, "and somebody has shaved his head!"
+
+He burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter, in which the others
+joined, till the house rang again, and the banished servants came
+running down to see what was the matter.
+
+Only Zuan Venier, a compassionate smile on his face, knelt beside
+Contarini and carefully withdrew the iron gag from his mouth.
+
+At the same instant Aristarchi's hatchet chopped through the hawser by
+which his vessel was riding, and he took the helm himself to steer her
+out through the narrow channel before the wind.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+
+When Pasquale had let Zorzi in, he crossed the canal again, moored the
+skiff with lock and chain, and came back by the wooden bridge. Zorzi
+went on through the corridor and came out into the moonlit garden. It
+was hard to believe that only forty-eight hours had passed since he had
+left it, but the freshly dug earth told him of Giovanni's search, about
+which Pasquale had told him, and there was the pleasant certainty that
+the master had come home and could probably protect him, even against
+the Ten. Besides this, he felt stronger and more able to move than since
+he had been injured, and he was sure that he could now walk with only a
+stick to help him, though he was always to be lame. He had looked up at
+Marietta's window before leaving the boat, but it was dark, for Pasquale
+had wished to be sure that no one should see Zorzi and it was long past
+the young girl's bedtime.
+
+Pasquale came back, and produced some more bread and cheese from his
+lodge, for both men were hungry. They sat down on the bench under the
+plane-tree and ate their meagre supper together in silence, for they had
+talked much during the long day. Then Pasquale bade Zorzi good night and
+went away, and Zorzi went into the laboratory, where all was dark. But
+he knew every brick of the furnace and every stone of the pavement under
+his feet, and in a few minutes he was fast asleep in his own bed,
+feeling as safe as if the Ten had never existed and as though the
+Signors of the Night were not searching every purlieu of Venice to take
+him into custody. And early in the morning he got up, and Pasquale
+brought him water as of old, and as his hose and doublet had suffered
+considerably during his adventures, he put on the Sunday ones and came
+out into the garden to breathe the morning air. Pasquale had no
+intention of going over to the house to announce Zorzi's return, for he
+was firmly convinced that the most simple way of keeping a secret was
+not to tell it, and before long the master would probably come over
+himself to ask for news.
+
+Beroviero brought Marietta with him, as he often did, and when they were
+within he naturally stopped to question Pasquale about his search, while
+Marietta went on to the garden. The porter took a long time to shut the
+door, and instead of answering Beroviero, shook his ugly head
+discontentedly, and muttered imprecations on all makers of locks,
+latches, bolts, bars and other fastenings, living, dead and yet unborn.
+So it came to pass that Marietta came upon Zorzi suddenly and alone,
+when she least expected to meet him.
+
+He was standing by the well-remembered rose-bush, leaning on his stick
+with one hand and lifting up a trailing branch with the other. But when
+he heard Marietta's step he let the branch drop again and stood waiting
+for her with happy eyes. She uttered a little cry, that was almost of
+fear, and stopped short in her walk, for in the first instant she could
+have believed that she saw a vision; then she ran forward with
+outstretched hands, and fell into his arms as he dropped his stick to
+catch her. As her head touched his shoulder, her heart stopped beating
+for a moment, she gasped a little, and seemed to choke, and then the
+tears of joy flowed from her eyes, her pulses stirred again, and all was
+well. He felt a tremor in his hands and could not speak aloud, but as he
+held her he bent down and whispered something in her ear; and she smiled
+through the shower of her happy tears, though he could not see it, for
+her face was hidden.
+
+Just then Beroviero entered from the corridor, followed by Pasquale, and
+the two old men stood still together gazing at the young lovers. It was
+on that very spot that the master, when going upon his journey, had told
+Zorzi how he wished he were his son. But now he forgot that he had said
+it, and the angry blood rushed to his forehead.
+
+"How dare you?" he cried, as he made a step to go on towards the pair.
+
+They heard his voice and separated hastily. Marietta's fresh cheek
+blushed like red roses, and she looked down, as shamefacedly as any
+country maid, but Zorzi turned white as he stooped to pick up his stick,
+then stood quite upright and met her father's eyes.
+
+"How dare you, I say?" repeated the old man fiercely.
+
+"I love her, sir," Zorzi answered without fear for himself, but with
+much apprehension for Marietta.
+
+"And have you forgotten that I love him, father?" asked Marietta,
+looking up but still blushing. "You know, I told you all the truth, and
+you were not angry then. At least, you were not so very angry," she
+added, shyly correcting herself.
+
+"If she has told you, sir," Zorzi began, "let me--"
+
+"You can tell me nothing I do not know," cried Beroviero, "and nothing I
+wish to hear! Be off! Go to the laboratory and begin work. I will speak
+with my daughter."
+
+Then Pasquale's voice was heard.
+
+"A furnace without a fire is like a ship without a wind," he said. "It
+might as well be anything else."
+
+Beroviero looked towards the old porter indignantly, but Pasquale had
+already begun to move and was returning to his lodge, uttering strange
+and unearthly sounds as he went, for he was so happy that he was really
+trying to hum a tune. The master turned to the lovers again. Zorzi had
+withdrawn a step or two, but showed no signs of going further.
+
+"If you are going to tell me that I must change my mind," said Marietta,
+"and that it is a shame to love a penniless glass-blower--"
+
+"Silence!" cried the old man, stroking his beard fiercely. "How can you
+presume to guess what I may or may not say about your shameless conduct?
+Did I not see him kissing you?"
+
+"I daresay, for he did," answered Marietta, raising her eyebrows and
+looking down in a resigned way. "And it is not the first time, either,"
+she added, shaking her head and almost laughing.
+
+"The insolence!" cried Beroviero. "The atrocious boldness!"
+
+"Sir," said Zorzi, coming nearer, "there is only one remedy for it. Give
+me your daughter for my wife--"
+
+"Upon my faith, this is too much! You know that Marietta is betrothed to
+Messer Jacopo Contarini--"
+
+"I have told you that I will not marry him," said Marietta quietly, "so
+it is just as if I had never been betrothed to him."
+
+"That is no reason for marrying Zorzi," retorted Beroviero. "A pretty
+match for you! Angelo Beroviero's daughter and a penniless foreigner who
+cannot even be allowed to work openly at his art!"
+
+"If I go away," Zorzi answered quietly, "I may soon be as rich as you,
+sir."
+
+At this unexpected statement Beroviero opened his eyes in real
+astonishment, while Zorzi continued.
+
+"You have your secrets, sir, and I have kept them safe for you. But I
+have one of my own which is as valuable as any of yours. Did you find
+some pieces of my work in the annealing oven? I see that they are on the
+table now. Did you notice that the glass is like yours, but finer and
+lighter?"
+
+"Well, if it is, what then?" asked Beroviero. "It was an accident. You
+mixed something with some of my glass--"
+
+"No," answered Zorzi, "it is altogether a composition of my own. I do
+not know how you mix your materials. How should I?"
+
+"I believe you do," said Beroviero. "I believe you have found it out in
+some way--"
+
+Zorzi had produced a piece of folded paper from his doublet, and now
+held it up in his hand.
+
+"I am not bargaining with you, sir, for you are a man of honour. Angelo
+Beroviero will not rob me, after having been kind to me for so many
+years. This is my secret, which I discovered alone, with no one's help.
+The quantities are written out very exactly, and I am sure of them.
+Read what is written there. By an accident, I may have made something
+like your glass, but I do not believe it."
+
+He held out the paper. Beroviero's manner changed.
+
+"You were always an honourable fellow, Zorzi. I thank you."
+
+He opened the paper and looked attentively at the contents. Marietta saw
+his surprise and interest and took the opportunity of smiling at Zorzi.
+
+"It is altogether different from mine," said Beroviero, looking up and
+handing back the document.
+
+"Is there fortune in that, sir, or not?" asked Zorzi, confident of the
+reply. "But you know that there is, and that whenever I go, if I can get
+a furnace, I shall soon be a rich man by the glass alone, without even
+counting on such skill as I have with my hands."
+
+"It is true," answered the master, nodding his head thoughtfully. "There
+are many princes who would willingly give you the little you need in
+order to make your fortune."
+
+"The little that Venice refuses me!" said Zorzi with some bitterness.
+"Am I presuming so much, then, when I ask you for your daughter's hand?
+Is it not in my power, or will it not be very soon, to go to some other
+city, to Milan, or Florence--"
+
+"No, no!" cried Beroviero. "You shall not take her away--"
+
+He stopped short, realising that he had betrayed what had been in his
+mind, since he had seen the two standing there, clasped in one another's
+arms, namely, that in spite of him, or with his blessing, his daughter
+would before long be married to the man she loved.
+
+"Come, come!" he said testily. "This is sheer nonsense!"
+
+He made a step forward as if to break off the situation by going away.
+
+"If you would rather that I should not leave you, sir," said Zorzi, "I
+will stay here and make my glass in your furnace, and you shall sell it
+as if it were your own."
+
+"Yes, father, say yes!" cried Marietta, clasping her hands upon the old
+man's shoulder. "You see how generous Zorzi is!"
+
+"Generous!" Beroviero shook his head. "He is trying to bribe me, for
+there is a fortune in his glass, as he says. He is offering me a
+fortune, I tell you, to let him marry you!"
+
+"The fortune which Messer Jacopo had made you promise to pay him for
+condescending to be my husband!" retorted Marietta triumphantly. "It
+seems to me that of the two, Zorzi is the better match!"
+
+Beroviero stared at her a moment, bewildered. Then, in half-comic
+despair he clapped both his hands upon his ears and shook himself gently
+free from her.
+
+"Was there ever a woman yet who could not make black seem white?" he
+cried. "It is nonsense, I tell you! It is all arrant nonsense! You are
+driving me out of my senses!"
+
+And thereupon he went off down the garden path to the laboratory,
+apparently forgetting that his presence alone could prevent a repetition
+of that very offence which had at first roused his anger. The door
+closed sharply after him, with energetic emphasis.
+
+At the same moment Marietta, who had been gazing into Zorzi's eyes, felt
+that her own sparkled with amusement, and her father might almost have
+heard her sweet low laugh through the open window at the other end of
+the garden.
+
+"That was well done," she said. "Between us we have almost persuaded
+him."
+
+Zorzi took her willing hand and drew her to him, and she was almost as
+near to him as before, when she straightened herself with quick and
+elastic grace, and laughed again.
+
+"No, no!" she said. "If he were to look out and see us again, it would
+be too ridiculous! Come and sit under the plane-tree in the old place.
+Do you remember how you stared at the trunk and would not answer me when
+I tried to make you speak, ever so long ago? Do you know, it was because
+you would not say--what I wanted you to say--that I let myself think
+that I could marry Messer Jacopo. If you had only known what you were
+doing!"
+
+"If I had only known!" Zorzi echoed, as they reached the place and
+Marietta sat down.
+
+They were within sight of the window, but Beroviero did not heed them.
+He was seated in his own chair, in deep thought, his elbows resting on
+the wooden arms, his fingers pressing his temples on each side, thinking
+of his daughter, and perhaps not quite unaware that she was talking to
+the only man he had ever really trusted.
+
+"I must tell you something, Zorzi," she was saying, as she looked up
+into the face she loved. "My father told me last night what he had done
+yesterday. He saw Messer Zuan Venier--"
+
+Zorzi showed his surprise.
+
+"Pasquale told my father that he had been here to see you. Very well,
+this Messer Zuan advised that if you could be found, you should be
+persuaded to go before the tribunal of the Ten of your own free will, to
+tell your story. And he promised to use all his influence and that of
+all his friends in your favour."
+
+"They will not change the law for me," Zorzi replied, in a hopeless
+way.
+
+"If they could hear you, they would make a special decree," said
+Marietta. "You could tell them your story, you could even show them some
+of the beautiful things you have made. They would understand that you
+are a great artist. After all, my father says that one of their most
+especial duties is to deal with everything that concerns Murano and the
+glass-works. Do you think that they will banish you, now that you have a
+secret of your own, and can injure us all by setting up a furnace
+somewhere else? There is no sense in that! And if you go of your own
+free will, they will hear you kindly, I think. But if you stay here,
+they will find you in the end, and they will be very angry then, because
+you will have been hiding from them."
+
+"You are wise," Zorzi answered. "You are very wise."
+
+"No, I love you."
+
+She spoke softly and glanced at the open window, and then at his face.
+
+"Truly?"
+
+He smiled happily as he whispered his question in one word, and he was
+resting a hand on the trunk of the tree, just as he had been standing on
+the day she remembered so well.
+
+"Ah, you know it now!" she answered, with bright and trusting eyes.
+
+"One may know a song well, and yet long to hear it again and again."
+
+"But one cannot be always singing it oneself," she said.
+
+"I could never make it ring as sweetly as you," Zorzi answered.
+
+"Try it! I am tired of hearing my voice--"
+
+"But I am not! There is no voice like it in the world. I shall never
+care to hear another, as long as I live, nor any other song, nor any
+other words. And when you are weary of saying them, I shall just say
+them over in my heart, 'She loves me, she loves me,'--all day long."
+
+"Which is better," Marietta asked, "to love, or to know that you are
+loved?"
+
+"The two thoughts are like soul and body," Zorzi answered. "You must not
+part them."
+
+"I never have, since I have known the truth, and never shall again."
+
+Then they were silent for a while, but they hardly knew it, for the
+world was full of the sweetest music they had ever heard, and they
+listened together.
+
+"Zorzi!"
+
+The master was at the window, calling him. He started a little as if
+awaking and obeyed the summons as quickly as his lameness would allow.
+Marietta looked after him, watching his halting gait, and the little
+effort he made with his stick at each step. For some secret reason the
+injury had made him more dear to her, and she liked to remember how
+brave he had been.
+
+He found Beroviero busy with his papers, and the results of the year's
+experiments, and the old man at once spoke to him as if nothing unusual
+had happened, telling him what to do from time to time, so that all
+might be put in order against the time when the fires should be lighted
+again in September. By and by two men came carrying a new earthen jar
+for broken glass, and all fragments in which the box had lain were
+shovelled into it, and the pieces of the old one were taken away. The
+furnace was not quite cool even yet, and the crucibles might remain
+where they were for a few days; but there was much to be done, and Zorzi
+was kept at work all the morning, while Marietta sat in the shade with
+her work, often looking towards the window and sometimes catching sight
+of Zorzi as he moved about within.
+
+Meanwhile the story of Contarini's mishap had spread in Venice like
+wildfire, and before noon there was hardly one of all his many relations
+and friends who had not heard it. The tale ran through the town, told by
+high and low, by Jacopo's own trusted servant, and the old woman who had
+waited on Arisa, and it had reached the market-place at an early hour,
+so that the ballad-makers were busy with it. For many had known of the
+existence of the beautiful Georgian slave and the subject was a good one
+for a song--how she had caressed him to sleep and fostered his foolish
+security while he loved her blindly, and how she and her mysterious
+lover had bound him and shaved his head and face and made him a
+laughing-stock, so that he must hide himself from the world for months,
+and moreover how they had carried away by night all the precious gifts
+he had heaped upon the woman since he had bought her in the
+slave-market.
+
+Last of all, his father heard it when he came home about an hour before
+noon from the sitting of the Council of Ten, of which he was a member
+for that year. He found Zuan Venier waiting in the hall of his house,
+and the two remained closeted together for some time. For the young man
+had promised Jacopo to tell old Contarini, though it was an ungrateful
+errand, and one which, the latter might remember against him. But it was
+a kind action, and Venier performed it as well as he could, telling the
+story truthfully, but leaving out all such useless details as might
+increase the father's anger.
+
+At first indeed the old man brought his hand down heavily upon the
+table, and swore that he would never see his son again, that he would
+propose to the Ten to banish him from Venice, that he would disinherit
+him and let him starve as he deserved, and much more to the same effect.
+But Venier entreated him, for his own dignity's sake, to do none of
+these things, but to send Jacopo to his villa on the Brenta river, where
+he might devote himself in seclusion to growing his hair and beard
+again; and Zuan represented that if he reappeared in Venice after many
+months, not very greatly changed, the adventure would be so far
+forgotten that his life among his friends would be at least bearable, in
+spite of the ridicule to which he would now and then be exposed for the
+rest of his life, whenever any one chose out of spite to mention
+barbers, shears, razors, specifies for causing the hair to grow, or
+Georgians, in his presence. Further, Venier ventured to suggest to
+Contarini that he should at once break off the marriage arranged with
+Beroviero, rather than expose himself to the inevitable indignity of
+letting the step be taken by the glass-maker, who, said Venier, would as
+soon think of giving his daughter to a Turk as to Jacopo, since the
+latter's graceless doings had been suddenly held up to the light as the
+laughing-stock of all Venice.
+
+In making this suggestion Venier had followed the suggestion of his own
+good sense and good feeling, and Contarini not only accepted the
+proposal but was in the utmost haste to act upon it, fearing lest at any
+moment a messenger might come over from Murano with the news that
+Beroviero withdrew his consent to the marriage. Venier almost dictated
+the letter which Contarini wrote with a trembling hand, and he promised
+to deliver it himself, and if necessary to act as ambassador.
+
+Beroviero had already called to Marietta that it was time to go home,
+though the mid-day bells had not yet rung out the hour, when Pasquale
+appeared in the garden and announced that Venier was waiting in his
+gondola and desired an immediate interview on a matter of importance.
+
+He would have come on Contarini's behalf, if for no other reason, but he
+had spent much time that morning in laying Zorzi's case before his
+friends and all the members of the Grand Council who could have any
+special influence with the Ten, or with the aged Doge, who, although in
+his eightieth year, frequently assisted in person at their meetings, and
+whose Counsellors were always present. He was now almost sure of
+obtaining a favourable hearing for Zorzi, and wished to see Beroviero,
+for he was still in ignorance of Zorzi's return to the glass-house
+during the night.
+
+Marietta was told to go into the deserted building, containing the main
+furnaces, now extinguished, for it was not fitting that she should be
+seen by a patrician whom she did not know, sitting in the garden as if
+she were a mere serving-woman whose face needed no veil. She ran away
+laughing and hid herself in the passage where she had spent moments of
+anguish on the night of Zorzi's arrest, and she waved a kiss to him,
+when her father was not watching.
+
+Zorzi waited at the door of the laboratory, while Beroviero waited
+within, standing by the table to receive his honourable visitor. When
+Zorzi saw Venier's expression of astonishment on seeing him, he smiled
+quietly, but offered no audible greeting, for he did not know what was
+expected of him. But Venier took his hand frankly and held it a moment.
+
+"I am glad to find you here," he said, less indolently than he usually
+spoke. "I have good news for you, if you will take my advice."
+
+"The master has already told me what it is," Zorzi answered. "I am ready
+to give myself up whenever you think best. I have not words to thank
+you."
+
+"I do not like many words," answered Venier. "But if there is anything I
+dislike more, it is thanks. I have some private business with Messer
+Angelo first. Afterwards we can all three talk together."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+
+Zorzi sat on a low bench, blackened with age, against the whitewashed
+wall of a small and dimly lighted room, which was little more than a
+cell, but was in reality the place where prisoners waited immediately
+before being taken into the presence of the Ten. It was not far from the
+dreaded chamber in which the three Chiefs sometimes heard evidence given
+under torture, the door was closed and two guards paced the narrow
+corridor outside with regular and heavy steps, to which Zorzi listened
+with a beating heart. He was not afraid, for he was not easily
+frightened, but he knew that his whole future life was in the balance,
+and he longed for the decisive moment to come. He had surrendered on the
+previous day, and Beroviero had given a large bond for his appearance.
+
+There were witnesses of all that had happened. There was the lieutenant
+of the archers, with his six men, some of whom still showed traces of
+their misadventure. There was Giovanni, whom the Governor had forced to
+appear, much against his will, as the principal accuser by the letter
+which had led to Zorzi's arrest, and the letter itself was in the hands
+of the Council's secretary. But there was also Pasquale, who had seen
+Zorzi go away quietly with the soldiers, and who could speak for his
+character; and Angelo Beroviero was there to tell the truth as far as he
+knew it.
+
+But Zorzi was not to be confronted with any of these witnesses: neither
+with the soldiers who would tell the Council strange stories of devils
+with blue noses and fiery tails, nor with Giovanni, whose letter called
+him a liar, a thief and an assassin, nor with Beroviero nor Pasquale.
+The Council never allowed the accused man and the witnesses for or
+against him to be before them at the same time, nor to hold any
+communication while the trial lasted. That was a rule of their
+procedure, but they were not by any means the mysterious body of malign
+monsters which they have too often been represented to be, in an age
+when no criminal trials could take place without torture.
+
+Zorzi waited on his bench, listening to the tread of the guards. As many
+trials occupied more than one day, his case would come up last of all,
+and the witnesses would all be examined before he himself was called to
+make his defence. He was nervous and anxious. Even while he was sitting
+there, Giovanni might be finding out some new accusation against him or
+the officer of archers might be accusing him of witchcraft and of having
+a compact with the devil himself. He was innocent, but he had broken the
+law, and no doubt many an innocent man had sat on that same bench before
+him, who had never again returned to his home. It was not strange that
+his lips should be parched, and that his heart should be beating like a
+fuller's hammer.
+
+At last the footsteps ceased, the key ground and creaked as it turned,
+and the door was opened. Two tall guards stood looking at him, and one
+of them motioned to him to come. He could never afterwards remember the
+place through which he was made to pass, for the blood was throbbing in
+his temples so that he could hardly see. A door was opened and closed
+after him, and he was suddenly standing alone in the presence of the
+Ten, feeling that he could not find a word to say if he were called upon
+to speak.
+
+A kindly voice broke the silence that seemed to have lasted many
+minutes.
+
+"Is this the person whom we are told is in league with Satan?"
+
+It was the Doge himself who spoke, nodding his hoary head, as very old
+men do, and looking at Zorzi's face with gentle eyes, almost colourless
+from extreme age.
+
+"This is the accused, your Highness," replied the secretary from his
+desk, already holding in his hand Giovanni's letter.
+
+Zorzi saw that the Council of Ten was much more numerous than its name
+implied. The Councillors were between twenty and thirty, sitting in a
+semicircle, against a carved wooden wainscot, on each side of the aged
+Doge, Cristoforo Moro, who had yet one more year to live. There were
+other persons present also, of whom one was the secretary, the rest
+being apparently there to listen to the proceedings and to give advice
+when they were called upon to do so.
+
+In spite of the time of year, the Councillors were all splendidly robed
+in the red velvet mantles, edged with ermine, and the velvet caps which
+made up the state dress of all patricians alike, and the Doge wore his
+peculiar cap and coronet of office. Zorzi had never seen such an
+assembly of imposing and venerable men, some with long grey beards, some
+close shaven, all grave, all thoughtful, all watching him with quietly
+scrutinising eyes. He stood leaning a little on his stick, and he
+breathed more freely since the dreaded moment was come at last.
+
+Some one bade the secretary read the accusation, and Zorzi listened with
+wonder and disgust to Giovanni's long epistle, mentally noting the
+points which he might answer, and realising that if the law was to be
+interpreted literally, he had undoubtedly rendered himself liable to
+some penalty.
+
+"What have you to say?" inquired the secretary, looking up from the
+paper with a pair of small and piercing grey eyes. "The Supreme Council
+will hear your defence."
+
+"I can tell the truth," said Zorzi simply, and when he had spoken the
+words he was surprised that his voice had not trembled.
+
+"That is all the Supreme Council wishes to hear," answered the
+secretary. "Speak on."
+
+"It is true that I am a Dalmatian," Zorzi said, "and by the laws of
+Venice, I should not have learned the art of glass-blowing. I came to
+Murano more than five years ago, being very poor, and Messer Angelo
+Beroviero took me in, and let me take care of his private furnace, at
+which he makes many experiments. In time, he trusted me, and when he
+wished something made, to try the nature of the glass, he let me make
+it, but not to sell such things. At first they were badly made, but I
+loved the art, and in short time I grew to be skilful at it. So I
+learnt. Sirs--I crave pardon, your Highness, and you lords of the
+Supreme Council, that is all I have to tell. I love the glass, and I can
+make light things of it in good design, because I love it, as the
+painter loves his colours and the sculptor his marble. Give me glass,
+and I will make coloured air of it, and gossamer and silk and lace. It
+is all I know, it is my art, I live in it, I feel in it, I dream in it.
+To my thoughts, and eyes and hands, it is what the love of a fair woman
+is to the heart. While I can work and shape the things I see when I
+close my eyes, the sun does, not move, the day has no time, winter no
+clouds, and summer no heat. When I am hindered I am in exile and in
+prison, and alone."
+
+The Doge nodded his head in kindly approbation.
+
+"The young man is a true artist," he said.
+
+"All this," said one of the Chiefs of the Ten, "would be well if you
+were a Venetian. But you are not, and the accusation says that you have
+sold your works to the injury of born Venetians. What have you to say?"
+
+"Sometimes my master has given me money for a beaker, or a plate, or a
+bottle," answered Zorzi, in some trepidation, for this was the main
+point. "But the things were then his own. How could that do harm to any
+one, since no one can make what I can make, for the master's own use?
+And once, the other day, as the Signor Giovanni's letter says there, he
+persuaded me to take his piece of gold for a beaker he saw in my hand,
+and I said that I would ask the master, when he came back, whether I
+might keep the money or not; and besides, I left the piece of money on
+the table in my master's laboratory, and the beaker in the annealing
+oven, when they came to arrest me. That is the only work for which I
+ever took money, except from the master himself."
+
+"Why did the Greek captain Aristarchi beat the Governor's men, and carry
+you away?" asked another of the Chiefs.
+
+Zorzi was not surprised that the name of his rescuer should be known,
+for the Ten were believed to possess universal intelligence.
+
+"I do not know," he answered quite simply. "He did not tell me, while he
+kept me with him. I had only seen him once before that night, on a day
+when he came to treat with the master for a cargo of glass which he
+never bought. I gave myself up to the archers, as I gave myself up to
+your lordships, for I thought that I should have justice the sooner if I
+sought it instead of trying to escape from it."
+
+"Your Highness," said one of the oldest Councillors, addressing the
+Doge, "is it not a pity that such a man as this, who is a good artist
+and who speaks the truth, should be driven out of Venice, by a law that
+was not meant to touch him? For indeed, the law exists and always will,
+but it is meant to hinder strangers from coming to Murano and learning
+the art in order to take it away with them, and this we can prevent. But
+we surely desire to keep here all those who know how to practise it, for
+the greater advantage of our commerce with other nations."
+
+"That is the intention of our laws," assented the Doge.
+
+"Your Highness! My lords!" cried Zorzi, who had taken courage from what
+the Councillor had said, "if this law is not made for such as I am, I
+entreat you to grant me your forgiveness if I have broken it, and make
+it impossible for me to break it again. My lords, you have the power to
+do what I ask. I beseech you that I may be permitted to work at my art
+as if I were a Venetian, and even to keep fires in a small furnace of my
+own, as other workmen may when they have saved money, that I may labour
+to the honour of all glass-makers, and for the good reputation of
+Murano. This is what I most humbly ask, imploring that it may be granted
+to me, but always according to your good pleasure."
+
+When he had spoken thus, asking all that was left for him to desire and
+amazed at his own boldness, he was silent, and the Councillors began to
+discuss the question among themselves. At a sign from the Chiefs the urn
+into which the votes were cast was brought and set before the Doge; for
+all was decided by ballot with coloured balls, and no man knew how his
+neighbour voted.
+
+"Have you anything more to say?" asked the secretary, again speaking to
+Zorzi.
+
+"I have said all, save to thank your Highness and your lordships with
+all my heart," answered the Dalmatian.
+
+"Withdraw, and await the decision of the Supreme Council."
+
+Zorzi cast one more glance at the great half circle of venerable men, at
+their velvet robes, at the carved wainscot, at the painted vault above,
+and after making a low obeisance he found his way to the door, outside
+which the guards were waiting. They took him back to a cell like the one
+where he had already sat so long, but which was reached by another
+passage, for everything in the palace was so disposed as to prevent the
+possibility of one prisoner meeting another on his way to the tribunal
+or coming from it; and for this reason the Bridge of Sighs, which was
+then not yet built, was afterwards made to contain two separate
+passages.
+
+It seemed a long time before the tread of guards ceased again and the
+door was opened, and Zorzi rose as quickly as he could when he saw that
+it was the secretary of the Ten who entered, carrying in his hand a
+document which had a seal attached to it.
+
+"Your prayer is granted," said the man with the sharp grey eyes. "By
+this patent the Supreme Council permits you to set up a glass-maker's
+furnace of your own in Murano, and confers upon you all the privileges
+of a born glass-blower, and promises you especial protection if any one
+shall attempt to interfere with your rights."
+
+Zorzi took the precious parchment eagerly, and he felt the hot blood
+rushing to his face as he tried to thank the secretary. But in a moment
+the busy personage was gone, after speaking a word to the guards, and
+Zorzi heard the rustling of his silk gown in the corridor.
+
+"You are free, sir," said one of the guards very civilly, and holding
+the door open.
+
+Zorzi went out in a dream, finding his way he knew not how, as he
+received a word of direction here and there from soldiers who guarded
+the staircases. When he was aware of outer things he was standing under
+the portico that surrounds the courtyard of the ducal palace. The broad
+parchment was unrolled in his hands and his eyes were puzzling over the
+Latin words and the unfamiliar abbreviations; on one side of him stood
+old Beroviero, reading over his shoulder with absorbed interest, and on
+the other was Zuan Venier, glancing at the document with the careless
+certainty of one who knows what to expect. Two steps away Pasquale
+stood, in his best clothes and his clean shirt, for he had been one of
+the witnesses, and he was firmly planted on his bowed legs, his long
+arms hanging down by his sides; his little red eyes were fixed on
+Zorzi's face, his ugly jaw was set like a mastiff's, and his
+extraordinary face seemed cut in two by a monstrous smile of delight.
+
+"It seems to be in order," said Venier, politely smothering with his
+gloved hand the beginning of a yawn.
+
+"I owe it to you, I am sure," answered Zorzi, turning grateful eyes to
+him.
+
+"No, I assure you," said the patrician. "But I daresay it has made us
+all change our opinion of the Ten," he added with a smile. "Good-bye.
+Let me come and see you at work at your own furnace before long. I have
+always wished to see glass blown."
+
+Without waiting for more, he walked quickly away, waving his hand after
+he had already turned.
+
+It was noon when Zorzi had folded his patent carefully and hidden it in
+his bosom, and he and Beroviero and Pasquale went out of the busy
+gateway under the outer portico. Beroviero led the way to the right, and
+they passed Saint Mark's in the blazing sun, and the Patriarch's palace,
+and came to the shady landing, the very one at which the old man and his
+daughter had got out when they had come to the church to meet Contarini.
+The gondola was waiting there, and Beroviero pushed Zorzi gently before
+him.
+
+"You are still lame," he said. "Get in first and sit down."
+
+But Zorzi drew back, for a woman's hand was suddenly thrust out of the
+little window of the 'felse,' with a quick gesture.
+
+"There is a lady inside," said Zorzi.
+
+"Marietta is in the gondola," answered Beroviero with a smile. "She
+would not stay at home. But there is room for us all. Get in, my son."
+
+
+
+
+NOTE
+
+The story of Zorzi Ballarin and Marietta Beroviero is not mere fiction,
+and is told in several ways. The most common account of the
+circumstances assumes that Zorzi actually stole the secrets which Angelo
+Beroviero had received from Paolo Godi, and thereby forced Angelo to
+give him his daughter in marriage; but the learned Comm. C.A. Levi,
+director of the museum in Murano, where many works of Beroviero and
+Ballarin are preserved, has established the latter's reputation for
+honourable dealing with regard to the precious secrets, in a pamphlet
+entitled "L'Arte del Vetro in Murano," published in Venice, in 1895, to
+which I beg to refer the curious reader. I have used a novelist's
+privilege in writing a story which does not pretend to be historical. I
+have taken eleven years from the date on which Giovanni Beroviero wrote
+his letter to the Podesta of Murano, and the letter itself, though
+similar in spirit to the original, is differently worded and covers
+somewhat different ground; I have also represented Zorzi as standing
+alone in his attempt to become an independent glass-blower, whereas
+Comm. Levi has discovered that he had two companions, who were
+Dalmatians, like himself. There is no foundation in tradition for the
+existence of Arisa the Georgian slave, but it is well known that
+beautiful Eastern slaves were bought and sold in Venice and in many
+other parts of Italy even at a much later date.
+
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARIETTA***
+
+
+******* This file should be named 16100.txt or 16100.zip *******
+
+
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/1/0/16100
+
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
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