“It cannot be true!” she cried, flushed and trembling.  “Dear Marco, they are priests!”

“The truth will be decided by the integrity of the law,” he answered, severely; “they shall have justice at our courts; but it is a question for the civil courts, since the people also cry for justice, and the ecclesiastical law is not to deal with heinous civil offenses—­though committed by one in priestly robes.  It is a just law of Venice—­ancient, and only now reaffirmed.”

“This is the law they spake of, Marco?”

Now that she dimly understood there was some great trouble coming on the people, she must know the right at any cost—­even that of her husband’s displeasure; it was her duty to him, and she had put her question firmly.

“This—­and another,” he answered, unwillingly.  “Listen, Marina, for I am weary of thy questions.  The law to forbid new foundations of church or monastery, or the introduction of new religious orders without the sanction of the government—­also an ancient law, and but now reaffirmed—­is doubtless that of which they spake.”

Marina stood confounded, with flashing eyes; how could the Republic dare to question the liberties of the Church!  “Thou meanest, Marco, that the Church, which is the head, must ask the Doge what she may do when she would increase her own religious institutions—­when she hath need of buildings for her holy work!”

“Thou hast an understanding quicker than I had believed,” he answered, with irritation; “and listen further, Marina—­’since a Giustinian should know the reason for the matters which concern the government,’ that was thy word, if I remember—­the half of the territory of Venice hath already passed into the hands of the clergy.  Is that not ground enough to hold their establishments, that thou wouldst grant them more?  And for the value of these possessions—­for nowhere is a government more generous to the ecclesiastics than the Republic hath been—­it hath been rated that a fourth part of the entire realty of the dominion—­nay, some count it a third part—­is already the property of the Church.  Shall we nobles of Venice turn paupers and humbly beg of the clergy a pittance for our children?”

He laughed and kissed her hand as he rose.  “Since thou hast asked it,” he said lightly, “I have given thee the law—­and there is an end of it.  But let it not fret thee; Venice will know how to care for her own.”

But Marina had suddenly grown very pale.  “Marco,” she gasped, detaining him, “will it be a war?—­a war between Venice and—­and——­”

She broke off; she could not speak the word which seemed a sacrilege.

“Think of our child!” she whispered, as he gathered her in his arms, and tried to soothe her.  “Marco, are we not a Christian nation?  And our Patriarch—­does he know about the displeasure of the Holy Father?  What will become of us?”