et 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 here."

"That is true," said more than o