ance to try," he said, with a slight gesture of
indifference. "It might not be so easy."

The old man looked at him a moment, as if hesitating, and then put the
packet back into the box and locked the latter with the key that hung
from his neck by a small silver chain.

"I trust you," he said, and he gave the box to Zorzi, to be deposited in
the hole.

Zorzi stood up, and taking a little tow from the supply used for
cleaning the blow-pipes, he dipped it into the oil of the lamp and
proceeded to grease the box carefully before hiding it.

"It would rust," he explained.

He laid the box in the hole and covered it with earth before placing the
stone over it.

"Be careful to make the stone lie quite flat," said Angelo, bending down
and gathering his gown off the floor in a bunch at his knees. "If it
does not lie flat, the stone will move when the boys tread on it, and
they may think of taking it up."

"It is very heavy," answered the young man. "It was as much as I could
do to heave it up. You need not be afraid of the boys."

"It is not a very safe place, I fear, after all," returned Beroviero
doubtfully. "Be sure to leave no marks of the crowbar, and no loose
earth near it."

The heavy slab slipped into its bed with a soft thud. Zorzi took the
lamp and examined the edges. One of them was a little chipped by the
crowbar, and he rubbed it with the greasy tow and scattered dust over
it. Then he got a cypress broom and swept the earth carefully away into
a heap. Beroviero himself brought the shovel and held it close to the
stones while Zorzi pushed the loose earth upon it.

"Carry it out and scatter it in the garden," said the old man.

It was the first time that he had allowed his affection for Zorzi to
express itself so strongly, for he was generally a very cautious person.
He took the young man's hand and held it a moment, pressing it kindly.

"It was not I who made the law against strangers, and it was not meant
for men like you," he added.

Zorzi knew how much this meant from such a master and he would have
found words for thanks, had he been able; but when he tried, they would
not come.

"You may trust me," was all he could say.

Beroviero left him, and went down the dark corridor with the firm step
of a man who knows his way without light.

In the morning, when he left the house to begin his journey, Zorzi stood
by the steps with the servant to steady the gondola for him. His horses
were to be in w