whispered in the ear of his colleague
the assurance that the Captain was gone again to the island of the
Jews, and that his business was with the friar.

"And look you, Michele," said he, "it is neither to you nor to me that
he comes nowadays. Not a whisper of it, as I live, except to this
friar, whom I could crush between my fingers as a glass ball out of
Murano."

His colleague shook his head.

"There have been many," said he, "who have tried to crush Fra
Giovanni. They grin between the bars of dungeons, my friend--at least,
those who have heads left to grin with. Be warned of me, and make an
ally of the man who has made an ally of Venice. The Captain knows well
what he is doing. If he has gone to the priest's house now, it is that
the priest may win rewards for us again, as he has won them already a
hundred times.

He spoke earnestly, though, in truth, his guess was not a good one.
The Captain of the Police had not gone to the Island of the Guidecca
to ask a service of the friar; he had gone, as he thought, to save the
friar's life. At the moment when his subordinates were wagging their
heads together, he himself stood in the priest's house, before the
very table at which Fra Giovanni sat busy with his papers and his
books.

"I implore you to listen to me, Prince!" he had just exclaimed very
earnestly, as he repeated the news for the second time, and stood
clamorous for the answer to his question.

The friar, who was dressed in the simple habit of the Capuchins, and
who wore his cowl over his head so that only his shining black eyes
could be seen, put down his pen when he heard himself addressed as
"Prince."

"Captain," he said sharply, "who is this person you come here to warn?
You speak of him as 'Prince.' It is some other, then, and not myself?"

The Captain bit his lip. He was one of the four in Venice who knew
something of Fra Giovanni's past.

"Your Excellency's pardon," he exclaimed very humbly; "were we not
alone, you would find me more discreet. I know well that the Prince
of Iseo is dead--in Venice at least. But to Fra Giovanni, his near
kinsman, I say beware, for there are those here who have sworn he
shall not live to say Mass again."

For an instant a strange light came into the priest's eyes. But he
gave no other sign either of surprise or of alarm.

"They have sworn it--you know their names, Captain?"

"The police do not concern themselves with names, Excellency."

"Which means that y