"_To Rome_!"

"Yes, Marco, thou and I and the little one! We should be so happy again
in the palazzo Donatello, where baby came to us."

"Marina, a Giustinian abides by Venice. From the days when every man of
the Ca' Giustiniani--save only the priest, who might not take up
arms--laid down his life before Lepanto, none hath ever forsaken
Venice."

"It is not to forsake our Venice, Marco mio!" she cried, with growing
eagerness, "but to serve her--to plead with the Holy Father that he will
remove the curse and let all the prayers of Venice ascend again to the
Madre Beatissima, who listens no more! It is a service for a Giustinian
to render!"

Her whole soul pleaded in face and gesture, beautiful and compelling; he
felt her old power reasserting itself; he almost groaned aloud as he put
up his hand to shut out this beseeching vision of the wife whom he loved
before all things but honor--lest he, being among the trusted rulers of
his country, should fail to Venice out of the great joy of granting to
Marina the happiness she craved.

Not for an instant did the young Venetian noble question his duty, while
with head averted, lest Marina should guess his struggle, he invoked
that ever-present image of Venetia regnant, which all her children
recognize, to stay him from forgetting it until this temptation were
past and he could be strong again; but now he knew that he was weak from
an irrepressible yearning to clasp Marina in his arms and grant her
heart's desire--at whatever cost; he dared not touch her lest he should
yield.

The moment's silence intensified her eagerness and hope; he felt them
burning in her eyes, and would not meet their prayer again. But she
could not wait, and her hand, fluttering restlessly upon his shoulder,
crept up to touch his cheek, thrilling him unbearably, as if each
sensitive finger-tip repeated her urgency. He must yield if she kept it
there. He snatched her hand to his lips and dropped it quickly, nerving
himself to speak steadily, lest he should betray irresolution--so
covering the tenderness which would have atoned for the positive
refusal.

"Marina, a Venetian may not demean himself to ask forgiveness of the
Holy Father in a matter wherein Venice hath not sinned--but Rome."

"Marco, my beloved, if Venice were mistaken! If thou and I might save
her!"

Her voice broke in a sob of agony, and her husband gathered her in his
arms, struggling not to weep with her. "Carina--carinissima!"