s of that prime difference, which neither man nor
woman can ever fully understand, but which, if not understood a little,
is the cause of much miserable misunderstanding in life.

Zorzi had to face the future at once, for it was upon him, and the old
life was over, perhaps never to come again. He stood still, where he
was, for any useless movement was an effort, and he tried to collect his
thoughts and determine just what he should do, and how it was to be
done. His eye fell on the piece of gold Giovanni had paid for the
beaker. In the morning, if he drew the iron tray further down the
annealing oven, the glass would be ready to be taken out, and Giovanni
could take it if he pleased, for he knew whose it was. But starvation
itself could not have induced Zorzi to take the money now. He turned
from it with contempt. All he needed was enough to buy bread for a week,
and mere bread cost little. That little he had, and it must suffice.
Besides that he would make a bundle small enough to be easily carried.
His chief difficulty would be in rowing the skiff. To use the single oar
at all it was almost indispensable to stand, and to stand chiefly on the
right foot, since the single rowlock, as in every Venetian boat, was on
the starboard side and could not be shifted to port. He fancied that in
some way he could manage to sit on the thwart, and use the oar as a
paddle. In any case he must get away, since flight was the wisest
course, and since he had promised Marietta that he would go. His
reflections had occupied scarce half a minute.

He began to walk towards the small room where he slept, and where he
kept his few possessions. He had taken two steps from the table, when he
stopped short, turned round and listened.

He heard the sound of light footsteps, running along the path and coming
nearer. In another moment Marietta was at the window, her face deadly
white, her eyes wide with fear.

"They are there!" she cried wildly. "They have come to-night! Hide
yourself quickly! Pasquale will keep them out as long as he can."

She had found Pasquale stoutly refusing to open the door. Outside stood
a lieutenant of the archers with half-a-dozen men, demanding admittance
in the name of the Governor. Pasquale answered that they might get in by
force if they could, but that he had no orders to open the door to them.
The lieutenant was in doubt whether his warrant authorised him to break
in or not.

Zorzi knew that Marietta was in eve