at on his head, and
making his rapier stick up behind him. From the rooms beyond the
vestibule the rich steam of good things floated through the half-closed
door, and the ring of merry voices, clinking glasses, and tinkling
strings was delightful to the ears of men who had supped in a garret on
bread and salt fish for three weeks.

'Markos,' said Trombin, 'apply your excellent sight and your
money-lender's intelligence to this marvellous ring, with which
unfortunate circumstances now oblige me to part. It belonged to my
sainted aunt, the Abbess of Acquaviva, who left it to me with her
blessing when I was young and innocent. It was once blessed by His
Holiness Saint Pius the Fifth, who thereby endowed it with efficacious
power to protect the virtue of those who should wear it. My sainted aunt
wore it for forty years, and she was indeed virtuous to the end of her
life. I remember that she was cross-eyed and had bad teeth and a sallow
complexion. For my own part, I must confess that I have not always----'

'How much do you want on it?' interrupted Markos, who had been examining
the stone as well as he could by the light of the oil-lamp, while
Trombin was talking in his grand style.

'A hundred ducats down, and no wine,' answered Gambardella, without
hesitation, in his deep voice.

'We would accept half a dozen jars of Samos, to be drunk here,'
suggested Trombin, 'if we sealed them ourselves.'

Markos grinned from ear to ear.

'Twenty ducats,' he said quietly, 'and a hogshead of "rezinato," worth
ten ducats more! That is all I can give.'

'Rezinato at ten ducats!' sneered Gambardella.

'It costs me that,' retorted the money-lender, 'so it must be worth it.
Possibly I might make the cash twenty-five ducats, but that would only
be out of old friendship. I shall lose by it if you do not redeem the
ring.'

'I wish you might lose something for once!' cried Trombin devoutly.

They bargained long. In those days, and long before and afterwards, the
money-lenders of Venice were Greek and Eastern eating-house keepers and
sellers of wine, and it was impossible to pawn any object with them
without accepting at least one-third of the advance in the shape of wine
more or less sour, or watered, or both.

But the two shabbily-dressed gentlemen who had taken the emerald ring
from the disguised lady were not ordinary customers. Trombin inspired
present terror, and Gambardella apprehension for the future, and though
Markos was a