I wish no one here to guess where you have been."

"No one shall see me," answered Zorzi. "Tell me only where I am to go."

"You know Venice well by this time. You must have often passed the house
of the Agnus Dei."

"By the Baker's Bridge?"

"Yes. Go there alone, to-night and ask for Messer Jacopo; and if the
porter inquires your business, say that you have a message and a token
from a certain Angelo. When you are admitted and are alone with Messer
Jacopo, tell him from me to go and stand by the second pillar on the
left in Saint Mark's, on Sunday next, an hour before noon, until he sees
me; and within a week after that, he shall have the answer; and bid him
be silent, if he would succeed."

"Is that all, sir?"

"That is all. If he gives you any message in answer, deliver it to me
to-morrow, when my daughter is not here."

"And the token?" inquired Zorzi.

"This glass seal, of which he already has an impression in wax, in case
he should doubt you."

Zorzi took the little leathern bag which contained the seal. He tied a
piece of string to it, and hung it round his neck, so that it was hidden
in his doublet like a charm or a scapulary. Beroviero watched him and
nodded in approval.

"Do not start before it is quite dark," he said. "Take the little skiff.
The water will be high two hours before midnight, so you will have no
trouble in getting across. When you come back, come here, and tell the
porter that I have ordered you to see that my fire is properly kept up.
Then go to sleep in the coolest place you can find."

After Beroviero had given him these orders, Zorzi had plenty of time for
reflection, for his master said nothing more, and became absorbed in his
work, weighing out portions of different ingredients and slowly mixing
each with the coloured earths and chemicals that were already in the
wooden trough. There was nothing to do but to tend the fire, and Zorzi
pushed in the pieces of Istrian beech wood with his usual industrious
regularity. It was the only part of his work which he hated, and when he
was obliged to do nothing else, he usually sought consolation in
dreaming of a time when he himself should be a master glass-blower and
artist whom it would be almost an honour for a young man to serve, even
in such a humble way. He did not know how that was to happen, since
there were strict laws against teaching the art to foreigners, and also
against allowing any foreign person to establish a furnace at