ou do not know their names, Captain?"

Pietro Falier sighed. This friar never failed to humble him, he
thought. If it were not for the honors which the monk had obtained for
the police since he began his work in Venice, the Captain said that he
would not lift a hand to save him from the meanest bravo in Italy.

"You do not know their names, Captain--confess, confess," continued
the priest, raising his hand in a bantering gesture; "you come to me
with some gossip of the bed-chamber, your ears have been open in
the market-place, and this tittle-tattle is your purchase--confess,
confess."

The Captain flushed as he would have done before no other in all
Venice.

"I do not know their names, Excellency," he stammered; "it is gossip
from the _bravo's_ kitchen. They say that you are to die before Mass
to-morrow. I implore you not to leave this house to-night. We shall
know how to do the rest if you will but remain indoors."

It was an earnest entreaty, but it fell upon deaf ears. The priest
answered by taking a sheet of paper and beginning to write upon it.

"I am indebted to you, Signor Falier," said he, quietly, "and you know
that I am not the man to forget my obligations. None the less, I fear
that I must disregard your warning, for I have an appointment in the
market to-night, and my word is not so easily broken. Let me reassure
you a little. The news that you bring to me, and for which I am your
debtor, was known to me three days ago. Here upon this paper I have
written down the name of the woman and of her confederates who have
hired the _bravo_ Rocca to kill me to-night in the shadow of the
church of San Salvatore. You will read that paper and the woman's
name--when you have my permission."

Falier stepped back dumb with amazement.

"The woman's name, Excellency," he repeated, so soon as his surprise
permitted him to speak, "you know her, then?"

"Certainly, or how could I write it upon the paper?"

"But you will give that paper to me, here and now. Think, Excellency,
if she is your enemy, she is the enemy also of Venice. What forbids
that we arrest her at once? You may not be alive at dawn!"

"In which case," exclaimed the priest, satirically, "the Signori of
the Night would be well able to answer for the safety of the city. Is
it not so, Captain?"

Falier stammered an excuse.

"We have not your eyes, Excellency; we cannot work miracles--but at
least we can try to protect you from the hand of the assass