“If thou meanest more than has been said,” exclaimed the latter, “for the sake of the blessed Maria be explicit!”

“Signor Melchior,” continued Maso, turning to the baron, “I did you and your daughter fair service on the lake!”

“That thou didst, Maso, we are both willing to admit, and were it in Berne,—­but the laws are made equally for all, the great and the humble they who have friends, and they who have none,”

“I have heard of this act on the lake,” put in Peterchen; “and unless fame lieth—­which.  Heaven knows, fame is apt enough to do, except in giving their just dues to those who are in high trusts,—­thou didst conduct thyself in that affair, Maso, like a loyal and well-taught mariner:  but the honorable chatelain has well remarked, that holy justice must have way before all other things.  Justice is represented as blind, in order that it may be seen she is no respecter of persons:  and wert thou an Avoyer, the decree must come.  Reflect maturely, therefore, on all the facts, and thou wilt come, in time, to see the impossibility of thine own innocence.  First, thou left the path, being ahead of Jacques Colis, to enter it at a moment suited to thy purposes:  then thou took’st his life for gold—­”

“But this is believing that to be true, Signor Bailiff, which is only yet supposed,” interrupted Il Maledetto; “I left the path to give Nettuno his charge apart from curious eyes; and, as for the gold of which you speak, would the owner of a necklace of that price be apt to barter his soul against a booty like this which comes of Jacques Colis!”

Maso spoke with a contempt which did not serve his cause; for it left the impression among the auditors, that he weighed the morality and immorality of his acts simply by their result.

“It is time to bring this to an end,” said the Signor Grimaldi, who had been thoughtful and melancholy while the others spoke:  “thou hast something to address particularly to me, Maso; but if thy claim is no better than that of our common country, I grieve to say, it cannot be admitted.”

“Signore, the voice of a Doge of Genoa is not often raised in vain, when he would use it in behalf of another!”

At this sudden announcement of the traveller’s rank, the monks and the chatelain started in surprise, and a low murmur of wonder was heard in the chapel.  The smile of Peterchen, and the composure of the Baron de Willading, however, showed that they, at least, learned nothing new.  The bailiff whispered the prior significantly, and from that moment his deportment towards the Genoese took still more of the character of formal and official respect.  On the other hand, the Signor Grimaldi remained composed, like one accustomed to receive deference, though his manner lost the slight degree of restraint that had been imposed by the observance of the temporary character he had assumed.

“The voice of a Doge of Genoa should not be used in intercession, unless in behalf of the innocent,” he replied, keeping his severe eye fastened on the countenance of the accused.