“Thou art right; but he might have caused me great vexation.  Sainted Maria! if thou knewest the pain that unthinking and misguided boy gives his family!  He is my brother, after all, and you will fancy the rest.  Addio, good Gessina; I hope thy father will permit thee to come and visit, at last, those who so much love thee.”

“Addio, Annina; thou knowest I would come gladly, but that I scarce quit the side of my poor mother.”

The wily daughter of the wine-seller gave her guileless and unsuspecting friend a kiss, and then she was let out and departed.

“Carlo,” said the soft voice of Gessina; “thou can’st come forth, for we have no further fear of visits.”

The Bravo appeared, but with a paleness deeper than common on his cheek.  He looked mournfully at the gentle and affectionate being who awaited his return, and when he struggled to answer her ingenuous smile, the abortive effort gave his features an expression of ghastliness.

“Annina has wearied thee with her idle discourse of the regatta, and of murders on the canals.  Thou wilt not judge her harshly, for the manner in which she spoke of Giuseppe, who may deserve this, and more.  But I know thy impatience, and I will not increase thy weariness.”

“Hold, Gessina—­this girl is thy cousin?”

“Have I not told thee so?  Our mothers are sisters.”

“And she is here often?”

“Not as often as she could wish, I am certain, for her aunt has not quitted her room for many, many months.”

“Thou art an excellent daughter, kind Gessina, and would make all others as virtuous as thyself.  And thou hast been to return these visits?”

“Never.  My father forbids it, for they are dealers in wines, and entertain the gondoliers in revelry.  But Annina is blameless for the trade of her parents.”

“No doubt—­and that package? it hath been long in thy keeping.”

“A month; Annina left it at her last visit, for she was hurried to cross to the Lido.  But why these questions?  You do not like my cousin, who is giddy, and given to idle conversation, but who, I think, must have a good heart.  Thou heard’st the manner in which she spoke of the wretched bravo, Jacopo, and of this late murder?”

“I did.”

“Thou could’st not have shown more horror at the monster’s crime thyself, Carlo.  Nay, Annina is thoughtless, and she might be less worldly; but she hath, like all of us, a holy aversion to sin.  Shall I lead thee to the cell?”

“Go on.”

“Thy honest nature, Carlo, revolts at the cold villany of the assassin.  I have heard much of his murders, and of the manner in which those up above bear with him.  They say, in common, that his art surpasseth theirs, and that the officers wait for proof, that they may not do injustice.”

“Is the Senate so tender, think you?” asked the Bravo, huskily, but motioning for his companion to proceed.