“Of what character are these ministers of the state?” he demanded.

“Father, they are its known officers, and wear the badges of their condition.”

“And their request?”

“Is to be admitted to the presence of the Donna Violetta.”

“There is still hope!” rejoined the monk, breathing more freely.  Moving across the room, he opened a door which communicated with the private oratory of the palace.  “Retire within this sacred chapel, Don Camillo, while we await the explanation of so extraordinary a visit.”

As the time pressed, the suggestion was obeyed on the instant.  The lover entered the oratory, and when the door was closed upon his person, the domestic, one known to be worthy of all confidence, was directed to usher in those who waited without.

But a single individual appeared.  He was known, at a glance, for a public and responsible agent of the government, who was often charged with the execution of secret and delicate duties.  Donna Violetta advanced to meet him, in respect to his employers, and with the return of that self-possession which long practice interweaves with the habits of the great.

“I am honored by this care of my dreaded and illustrious guardians,” she said, making an acknowledgment for the low reverence with which the official saluted the richest ward of Venice.  “To what circumstance do I owe this visit?”

The officer gazed an instant about him, with an habitual and suspicious caution, and then repeating his salutations, he answered.

“Lady,” he said, “I am commanded to seek an interview with the daughter of the state, the heiress of the illustrious house of Tiepolo, with the Donna Florinda Mercato, her female companion, with the Father Anselmo, her commissioned confessor, and with any other who enjoy the pleasure of her society and the honor of her confidence.”

“Those you seek are here; I am Violetta Tiepolo; to this lady am I indebted for a mother’s care, and this reverend Carmelite is my spiritual counsellor.  Shall I summon my household?”

“It is unnecessary.  My errand is rather of private than of public concern.  At the decease of your late most honored and much lamented parent, the illustrious senator Tiepolo, the care of your person, lady, was committed by the Republic, your natural and careful protector, to the especial guardianship and wisdom of Signore Alessandro Gradenigo, of illustrious birth and estimable qualities.”

“Signore, you say true.”

“Though the parental love of the councils may have seemed to be dormant, it has ever been wakeful and vigilant.  Now that the years, instruction, beauty, and other excellences of their daughter, have come to so rare perfection, they wish to draw the ties that unite them nearer, by assuming their own immediate duties about her person.”

“By this I am to understand that I am no longer a ward of the Signor Gradenigo?”