Marietta | Page 4

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, air?"
"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