appier
had they continued to neglect me. But now the old president glared at me
again like a tiger who comes back to his victim.

"You shall pay for it all, and it is but justice that you should," he
said. "You, an upstart adventurer and foreigner, have dared to raise
your eyes in love to the grand daughter of a Doge of Venice who was
already betrothed to the heir of the Loredans. He who enjoys such
privileges must pay a price for them."

"It cannot be higher than they are worth," said I.

"You will tell us that when you have made a part payment," said he.
"Perhaps your spirit may not be so proud by that time. Matteo, you will
lead this prisoner to the wooden cell. To-night is Monday. Let him
have no food or water, and let him be led before the tribunal again
on Wednesday night. We shall then decide upon the death which he is to
die."

It was not a pleasant prospect, and yet it was a reprieve. One is
thankful for small mercies when a hairy savage with a blood-stained
knife is standing at one's elbow. He dragged me from the room and I was
thrust down the stairs and back into my cell. The door was locked and I
was left to my reflections.

My first thought was to establish connection with my neighbour
in misfortune. I waited until the steps had died away, and then I
cautiously drew aside the two boards and peeped through. The light was
very dim, so dim that I could only just discern a figure huddled in the
corner, and I could hear the low whisper of a voice which prayed as one
prays who is in deadly fear. The boards must have made a creaking. There
was a sharp exclamation of surprise.

"Courage, friend, courage!" I cried. "All is not lost. Keep a stout
heart, for Etienne Gerard is by your side."

"Etienne!" It was a woman's voice which spoke--a voice which was always
music to my ears. I sprang through the gap and I flung my arms round
her.

"Lucia! Lucia!" I cried.

It was "Etienne!" and "Lucia!" for some minutes, for one does not make
speeches at moments like that. It was she who came to her senses first.

"Oh, Etienne, they will kill you. How came you into their hands?"

"In answer to your letter."

"I wrote no letter."

"The cunning demons! But you?"

"I came also in answer to your letter."

"Lucia, I wrote no letter."

"They have trapped us both with the same bait."

"I care nothing about myself, Lucia. Besides, there is no pressing
danger with me. They have simply returned me to my cell."

"Oh