spered Beppo, in the ear of the cavalier, as he
came out with his lady.

"All right," replied the mask, in the same tone of voice. "But one
thing perplexes me. I have no place that I can call my home, to-night.
The lady will be missed; my palace will be watched--I should incur the
risk of swords crossing and bloodshed, if I sought to take her
thither, to-night."

"If my house were not so very humble," said the gondolier,
hesitatingly.

"The very thing," said the mask, joyfully. "No matter how humble the
roof, provided that it shelter us. To-morrow we can arrange matters
for flight, or for remaining."

"Then get into the gondola, my lord, and I will row you thither in a
few minutes."

The party reembarked, and soon reached the gondolier's residence.
After fastening his craft, he unlocked his door; and striking a light,
conducted his distinguished guests up stairs. As he passed one of the
chamber doors, the old gondolier, addressing the masked lady as he
pointed to it, said,--

"You have made a moonlight flitting, to-night, signora, and I wish you
joy of your escape. But if you had been as safely kept as a precious
charge I have in this room, you would never have stood before the
altar to-night, with your noble bridegroom."

"You forget that 'love laughs at locksmiths,'" said the cavalier.

At the door of their apartments, the old man, before bidding them good
night, pausing, said,--

"Pardon me, signor, but I would fain know the name of the noble
cavalier I have had the honor of serving to-night."

"You shall know to-morrow," replied the mask. "_Buona notte_, Beppo.
Remember it's carnival time."

The next morning Beppo was up betimes, anxious to learn the mystery
connected with the married couple. He was not kept long in suspense.
His patron of the preceding evening soon made his appearance, but
masked as before.

"Beppo!" said the stranger, "you rendered me an inestimable service
last night."

"You rewarded me handsomely, signor, and I shall never regret it."

"Give me your word then, that you will never upbraid me with the
service I imposed on you."

"I give you my word," said the old man, surprised; "but why do you
exact it?"

"Because," said the stranger, raising his mask, "I am no Venetian
noble, but simply Antonio Giraldi, a gondolier like yourself."

"You! Antonio Giraldi! And the lady--?"

"Was your ward, Zanetta. You locked her chamber door, and took the
house key with you--but a ladder