y were considered equal in birth to the
noblest families. They were gentlemen. A titled woman felt only pride
in uniting herself with a glass-maker's family."

"Perhaps that is what your great-great-great-great-great-grandmother
did," Jean said, half aloud.

"Yes, senorita," was Giusippe's simple answer. "And they say, too, she
was beautiful. My ancestor was of the _pater-nostereri_; he was a maker
of beads for rosaries. Then there were the _margaritai_, who made small
beads; and the _fuppialume_, who made large blown beads. Each man was a
skilled artist, you see, and did some one special thing. The _phiolari_
made vases, cups, and glass for windows; the _cristallai_ optical
glass; and the _specchiai_ mirrors. No strangers were allowed to visit
the glass works, and all apprentices must pass a rigid examination not
only as to their skill, but as to their previous personal history. In
1495 the glass houses at Murano extended for a mile along a single
street and the great furnaces roared night and day, so you can imagine
how much glass was made on the island."

"My!" gasped Jean breathlessly.

"Absolute loyalty to the art was demanded of every man engaged in it,"
Giusippe said. "And you can see, senor, that this was necessary. Any
workman carrying the secrets elsewhere was first warned to return to
Venice; then, if he refused, his nearest relative was imprisoned; if he
still refused to obey he was tracked down and killed. Often glass-makers
were found in Padua, Ravenna, and other places stabbed through the
heart, and the word _Traitor_ was fastened to the dagger."

Jean shuddered.

"Do not tremble, senorita," Giusippe said. "It was a just punishment.
You see the Council of Ten felt that the prosperity of the Venetians
depended upon keeping their art away from all the outside world which
was so eager to learn it. All knew the penalty for disloyalty. The
decree read:

"'_If any workman conveys his art to a strange country to the
detriment of the Republic he shall be sent an order to return to
Venice. Failing to obey his nearest of kin shall be imprisoned. If
he still persists in remaining abroad and plying his art an
emissary shall be charged to kill him._'

"In this way the secrets of glass-making were kept in Venice and the
Republic soon became famous and prosperous. As the reputation of the
Venetian glass-makers spread an immense trade was established. My
grandfather has often told me of the