were almost within touch of me and
there was no time for thought. I turned toward the staircase, but two
men were coming down it. I dodged back and tried the door through which
I had been brought, but it was fastened with great bars and I could not
loosen them. The gondolier was on me with his knife, but I met him with
a kick on the body which stretched him on his back. His dagger flew with
a clatter across the marble floor. I had no time to seize it, for there
were half a dozen of them now clutching at me. As I rushed through them
the little steward thrust his leg before me and I fell with a crash, but
I was up in an instant, and breaking from their grasp I burst through
the very middle of them and made for a door at the other end of the
hall. I reached it well in front of them, and I gave a shout of triumph
as the handle turned freely in my hand, for I could see that it led to
the outside and that all was clear for my escape. But I had forgotten
this strange city in which I was. Every house is an island. As I flung
open the door, ready to bound out into the street, the light of the hall
shone upon the deep, still, black water which lay flush with the topmost
step.

I shrank back, and in an instant my pursuers were on me.

But I am not taken so easily. Again I kicked and fought my way through
them, though one of them tore a handful of hair from my head in his
effort to hold me. The little steward struck me with a key and I was
battered and bruised, but once more I cleared a way in front of me.

Up the grand staircase I rushed, burst open the pair of huge folding
doors which faced me, and learned at last that my efforts were in vain.

The room into which I had broken was brilliantly lighted. With its gold
cornices, its massive pillars, and its painted walls and ceilings it was
evidently the grand hall of some famous Venetian palace. There are many
hundred such in this strange city, any one of which has rooms which
would grace the Louvre or Versailles. In the centre of this great hall
there was a raised dais, and upon it in a half circle there sat twelve
men all clad in black gowns, like those of a Franciscan monk, and each
with a mask over the upper part of his face.

A group of armed men--rough-looking rascals--were standing round the
door, and amid them facing the dais was a young fellow in the uniform
of the light infantry. As he turned his head I recognised him. It was
Captain Auret, of the 7th, a young Basque