spatched in quest of one of the Three, who was
occupied with important papers in an adjoining closet. The senator was
not slow to obey the summons, for he appeared there as a friend of the
prince, having been admitted publicly, and with the customary honors.

"Here are visitors of an unusual character, Signore," said the Doge,
rising to receive him whom he had summoned in precaution to himself,
"and I would have a witness of their requests."

"Your Highness does well to make us of the Senate share your labors;
though if any mistaken opinion of the necessity has led you to conceive
it important to call a councillor each time a guest enters the
palace----"

"It is well, Signore," mildly interrupted the prince, touching the bell.
"I hope my importunity has not deranged you. But here come those I
expect."

Father Anselmo and Gelsomina entered the closet together. The first
glance convinced the Doge that he received strangers. He exchanged looks
with the member of the secret council, and each saw in the other's eye
that the surprise was mutual.

When fairly in the presence, the Carmelite threw back his cowl, entirely
exposing the whole of his ascetic features; while Gelsomina, awed by the
rank of him who received them, shrank abashed, partly concealed by his
robes.

"What means this visit?" demanded the prince, whose finger pointed to
the shrinking form of the girl, while his eye rested steadily on that of
the monk, "and that unusual companion? Neither the hour, nor the mode,
is customary."

Father Anselmo stood before the Venetian sovereign for the first time.
Accustomed, like all of that region, and more especially in that age, to
calculate his chances of success warily, before venturing to disburden
his mind, the monk fastened a penetrating look on his interrogator.

"Illustrious prince," he said, "we come petitioners for justice. They
who are thus commissioned had need be bold, lest they do their own
character, and their righteous office, discredit."

"Justice is the glory of St. Mark, and the happiness of his subjects.
Thy course, father, is not according to established rules and wholesome
restraints, but it may have its apology--name thy errand."

"There is one in the cells, condemned of the public tribunals, and he
must die with the return of day, unless your princely authority
interfere to save him."

"One condemned of the tribunals may merit his fate."

"I am the ghostly adviser of the unhappy youth,