hy, if he
chose to keep him, he made use of him to deliver invitations. The fellow
had the look of a born criminal; he was just such a man as Zorzi had
thought of when he had jestingly proposed to Giovanni to hire a
murderer. Indeed, the more Zorzi thought of his face, the more he was
inclined to doubt that the man came from Contarini at all.

But in this he was mistaken. The message was genuine, and moreover, so
far as Contarini and the society were concerned, the man was perfectly
trustworthy. Possibly there were reasons why Contarini chose to employ
him, and also why the servant was so consistently faithful to his
master. After all, Zorzi reflected, he was certainly ignorant of the
fact that the noble young idlers who met at the house of the Agnus Dei
were playing at conspiracy and revolution.

But that night, when Contarini's friends were assembled and had counted
their members, some one asked what had become of the Murano
glass-blower, and whether he was not going to attend their meetings in
future; and Contarini answered that Zorzi had hurt his foot and was on
crutches, and sent a greeting to the guests. Most of them were glad that
he was not there, for he was not of their own order, and his presence
caused a certain restraint in their talk. Besides, he was poor, and did
not play at dice.

"He works with Angelo Beroviero, does he not?" asked Zuan Venier in a
tone of weary indifference.

"Yes," answered Contarini with a laugh. "He is in the service of my
future father-in-law."

"To whom may heaven accord a speedy, painless and Christian death!"
laughed Foscari in his black beard.

"Not till I am one of his heirs, if you please," returned Contarini. "As
soon after the wedding day as you like, for besides her rich dowry, the
lady is to have a share of his inheritance."

"Is she very ugly?" asked Loredan. "Poor Jacopo! You have the sympathy
of the brethren."

"How does he know?" sneered Mocenigo. "He has never seen her. Besides,
why should he care, since she is rich?"

"You are mistaken, for I have seen her," said Contarini, looking down
the table. "She is not at all ill-looking, I assure you. The old man was
so much afraid that I would not agree to the match that he took her to
church so that I might look at her."

"And you did?" asked Mocenigo. "I should never have had the courage. She
might have been hideous, and in that case I should have preferred not to
find it out till I was married."

"I looked