“Never before, in the annals of the Republic, was one known to refuse the gift of nobility,” Giustinian explained, as he described the scene to the Lady Laura.  “And, verily, one saw that the displeasure of the Ten was great; the more so that in the interests of the government the return they would have made may not be kept from the knowledge of the people.  Yet our senior master of Murano was suffered to depart with a gracious word of regret from this consummate Donate, ’that a new noble, so loyal in sentiment, should not be numbered among the councillors of Venice.’  Truly this grandsire of our little one lacketh not pride, and his bearing became him well, though the Senate would have had it otherwise.  His gift was generous; but verily he needeth little for the maintenance of the state he keepeth!”

“Giustinian, it was a noble act!  And already the Republic is more beholden to our baby than to any child in Venice; it will bring gladness to the face of our sad Marina.”

“Nay, guard thee from speech of it; perchance she may not hear thereof, being thus concerned with grief for this quarrel—­womanlike; and she hath not strength to bear the thought of war.  Verily, the reverend father confessors in Venice have much to answer for; I would thou couldst find means to keep Fra Francesco from his ministrations in her palace.”

“Fra Francesco—­so holy and gentle—­a man to trust!”

“Ay, I have naught against him, save that he is trained in the school of Rome, having a conscience to uphold their claims, and with no thought or care for anything but the Church—­no wisdom to discover any right of princes.  Such confessors make trouble among the people.  I doubt not our daughter trusteth the word of Fra Francesco beyond thine or mine.  Do thy possible to keep him from her; there is no knowing what Marcantonio may do at her bidding, and in this crisis there shall be no stain upon our house.”

“Thou, then, Giustinian, speak with Marco.”

“Nay, I dare not name Marina to him under such suspicion; it might be the forcing of the very thing we fear.  He hath a way with him of hearing all and saying naught, save some gay, facile word, courteous to the point one can find no fault; and underneath he hath perhaps some scheme, and never can one get a promise from him.”

XVIII

The Lady Marina was wan from fear and fasting but very resolute, though her face showed traces of tears, as her husband entered the oratory of the palace, whither she had implored him to come to her before he went to the Senate Chamber—­a dignity to which he had but just been elected.

“Why hast thou summoned me hither?” he asked somewhat coldly; for, like most light-hearted people, he disliked scenes, and differences between himself and his wife were the more intolerable to him because he truly loved her.

“Oh, Marco, my beloved!” she exclaimed imploringly, “thou lovest Venice as much as I, and thy little word can save her from this great horror, for thou art in the councils of thy people.”