" answered Zorzi, "it is altogether a composition of my own. I do
not know how you mix your materials. How should I?"

"I believe you do," said Beroviero. "I believe you have found it out in
some way--"

Zorzi had produced a piece of folded paper from his doublet, and now
held it up in his hand.

"I am not bargaining with you, sir, for you are a man of honour. Angelo
Beroviero will not rob me, after having been kind to me for so many
years. This is my secret, which I discovered alone, with no one's help.
The quantities are written out very exactly, and I am sure of them.
Read what is written there. By an accident, I may have made something
like your glass, but I do not believe it."

He held out the paper. Beroviero's manner changed.

"You were always an honourable fellow, Zorzi. I thank you."

He opened the paper and looked attentively at the contents. Marietta saw
his surprise and interest and took the opportunity of smiling at Zorzi.

"It is altogether different from mine," said Beroviero, looking up and
handing back the document.

"Is there fortune in that, sir, or not?" asked Zorzi, confident of the
reply. "But you know that there is, and that whenever I go, if I can get
a furnace, I shall soon be a rich man by the glass alone, without even
counting on such skill as I have with my hands."

"It is true," answered the master, nodding his head thoughtfully. "There
are many princes who would willingly give you the little you need in
order to make your fortune."

"The little that Venice refuses me!" said Zorzi with some bitterness.
"Am I presuming so much, then, when I ask you for your daughter's hand?
Is it not in my power, or will it not be very soon, to go to some other
city, to Milan, or Florence--"

"No, no!" cried Beroviero. "You shall not take her away--"

He stopped short, realising that he had betrayed what had been in his
mind, since he had seen the two standing there, clasped in one another's
arms, namely, that in spite of him, or with his blessing, his daughter
would before long be married to the man she loved.

"Come, come!" he said testily. "This is sheer nonsense!"

He made a step forward as if to break off the situation by going away.

"If you would rather that I should not leave you, sir," said Zorzi, "I
will stay here and make my glass in your furnace, and you shall sell it
as if it were your own."

"Yes, father, say yes!" cried Marietta, clasping her hands upon the old
man's shoulder