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him think that you have need of him to return to Venice.
He is not your father, and has no right over your liberty."
"Certainly not."

"Very good. You must also agree that I am not your uncle, and that the
bond between us is, of the most tender description. Will, there be any
difficulty is that?"
"How can you ask me such a question? The link between us makes me
feel proud, and will ever do so."
"Well, well, I say no more. I trust entirely in your tact. Remember that
Querini and no other must take you back to Venice; he must treat you
as if you were his daughter. If he will not consent, you shall not return
at all."
"Would to God it were so!"
Early the next morning I got a note from M. Querini requesting me to
call on him, as he wanted to speak to me on a matter of importance.
"We are getting on," said Marcoline. "I am very glad that things have
taken this turn, for when you come back you can tell me the whole
story, and I can regulate my conduct accordingly."
I found Querini and Morosini together. They gave me their hands when
I came in, and Querini asked me to sit down, saying that there would be
nothing in our discussion which M. Morosini might not hear.
"I have a confidence to make to you, M. Casanova," he began; "but first
I want you to do me the same favor."
"I can have no secrets from your excellency."
"I am obliged to you, and will try to deserve your good opinion. I beg
that you will tell me sincerely whether you know the young person who
is with you, for no one believes that she is your niece."
"It is true that she is--not my niece, but not being acquainted with her
relations or family I cannot be said to know her in the sense which your
excellency gives to the word. Nevertheless, I am proud to confess that I
love her with an affection which will not end save with my life."

"I am delighted to hear you say so. How long have you had her?"
"Nearly two months."
"Very good! How did she fall into your hands?"
"That is a point which only concerns her, and you will allow me not to
answer that question."
"Good! we will go on. Though you are in love with her, it is very
possible that you have never made any enquiries respecting her
family."
"She has told me that she has a father and a mother, poor but honest,
but I confess I have never been curious enough to enquire her name. I
only know her baptismal name, which is possibly not her true one, but
it does quite well for me."
"She has given you her true name."
"Your excellency surprises me! You know her, then?"
"Yes; I did not know her yesterday, but I do now. Two months . . .
Marcoline . . . yes, it must be she. I am now certain that my man is not
mad."
"Your man?"
"Yes, she is his niece. When we were at London he heard that she had
left the paternal roof about the middle of Lent. Marcoline's mother,
who is his sister, wrote to him. He was afraid to speak to her yesterday,
because she looked so grand. He even thought he must be mistaken,
and he would have been afraid of offending me by speaking to a grand
lady at my table. She must have seen him, too."
"I don't think so, she has said nothing about it to me."
"It is true that he was standing behind her all the time. But let us come
to the point. Is Marcoline your wife, or have you any intention of

marrying her?"
"I love her as tenderly as any man can love a woman, but I cannot make
her a wife; the reasons are known only to herself and me."
"I respect your secret; but tell me if you would object to my begging
her to return to Venice with her uncle?"
"I think Marcoline is happy, but if she has succeeded in gaining the
favour of your excellency, she is happier still; and I feel sure that if she
were to go back to Venice under the exalted patronage of your
excellency, she would efface all stains on her reputation. As to
permitting her to go, I can put no stumblingblock in the way, for I am
not her master. As her lover I would defend her to the last drop of my
blood, but if she wants to leave me I can only assent, though with
sorrow."
"You speak with much sense, and I hope you will