Marietta | Page 9

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