It was an earnest entreaty, but it fell upon deaf ears.  The priest answered by taking a sheet of paper and beginning to write upon it.

“I am indebted to you, Signor Falier,” said he, quietly, “and you know that I am not the man to forget my obligations.  None the less, I fear that I must disregard your warning, for I have an appointment in the market to-night, and my word is not so easily broken.  Let me reassure you a little.  The news that you bring to me, and for which I am your debtor, was known to me three days ago.  Here upon this paper I have written down the name of the woman and of her confederates who have hired the bravo Rocca to kill me to-night in the shadow of the church of San Salvatore.  You will read that paper and the woman’s name—­when you have my permission.”

Falier stepped back dumb with amazement.

“The woman’s name, Excellency,” he repeated, so soon as his surprise permitted him to speak, “you know her, then?”

“Certainly, or how could I write it upon the paper?”

“But you will give that paper to me, here and now.  Think, Excellency, if she is your enemy, she is the enemy also of Venice.  What forbids that we arrest her at once?  You may not be alive at dawn!”

“In which case,” exclaimed the priest, satirically, “the Signori of the Night would be well able to answer for the safety of the city.  Is it not so, Captain?”

Falier stammered an excuse.

“We have not your eyes, Excellency; we cannot work miracles—­but at least we can try to protect you from the hand of the assassin.  Name this woman to me, and she shall not live when midnight strikes.”

Fra Giovanni rose from his chair and put his hand gently upon the other’s shoulder.

“Signer Falier,” said he, “if I told you this woman’s name here and now as you ask, the feast of Corpus Christi might find a new Doge in Venice.”

“You say, Excellency—?”

“That the city is in danger as never she was before in her history.”

“And your own life?”

“Shall be given for Venice if necessary.  Listen to this:  you seek to be of service to me.  Have you any plan?”

“No plan but that which posts guards at your door and keeps you within these walls—­”

“That the enemies of Venice may do their work.  Is that your reason, Signor Falier?”

“I have no other reason, Excellency, but your own safety and that of the city.”

“I am sure of it, Captain, and being sure I am putting my life in your hands to-night—­”

“To-night; we are to follow you to the Merceria, then?”

“Not at all; say rather that you are to return to the palace and to keep these things so secret that even the Council has no word of them.  But, at ten o’clock, take twenty of your best men and let your boat lie in the shadow of the church of San Luca until I have need of you.  You understand, Captain Falier?”