will
forgive, for ever hath he bidden me choose the right." Her voice broke
and she was silent, while she sought for some token in the folds of her
robe. "Thou wilt take him this when thou returnest, that he may know I
hold him dear."

"Marina!" he pleaded, growing eloquent, with a last desperate effort,
"thou wast ever an angel to the Zuanino--thou canst not leave thine own
bimbo!"

She did not answer immediately, but she clasped and unclasped her hands
passionately. "He is safe," she said at last, very low and struggling
for control. "He hath the blessing of the Holy Father, given when it
might avail; and the little ones are ever in the care of the Blessed
Mother. It is not for my baby that I needs must go--but for Marco and my
father, and for Venice. Santissima Maria, because thou sendest me, shalt
thou not grant the strength!"

There was a silence between them while they floated on, for Piero had
many things to think of. He was accustomed to accomplish whatever he
undertook, for he was not a man to fail from lack of resource, nor to be
overcome by fears and scruples. By means of his passes and his favor
with the government he could reach the borders of the Venetian dominions
without suspicion, from whence he would escort Marina to the nearest
convent and place her in safety with the Mother Superior, to whom he
would confide the story of her distinguished guest and secure for her
the treatment due to a Venetian princess; which, under the
circumstances, would be an easy matter, as no member of a noble Venetian
house espousing the side of Rome would be met with any but the most
flattering reception. To provide Marina with companionship, Piero had
confided her intended flight to the Lady Beata Tagliapietra, being sure
of her devotion; and she would be waiting for them at Padua with two
trusted gondoliers and whatever might be needful from the wardrobe of
the Lady of the Giustiniani. The fact that he had broken his promise of
secrecy did not trouble him, since it was in Marina's service, which
made the action honorable; and were it not so, the little perjury was
well atoned for by a keg of oil anonymously sent to the traghetto of San
Nicolo e San Raffaele, "pel luminar al Madonna";[8] and Piero had much
faith in anonymous gifts, for confessions were not always convenient for
an officer of his dignity. But it was perhaps too much to expect that
these poor little traghetto lamps should be more than dimly luminous,
sin