“Perhaps he does not wish it broken off,” suggested Arisa, taking an equally amiable but somewhat different point of view.  “He cannot marry the girl, of course—­but if she is once married and out of her father’s house, it will be different.”

“That is an idea,” assented Aristarchi.  “Look at us two.  It is very much the same position, and Contarini will be indifferent about her, which he is not, where you are concerned.  Between the glass-blower and me, and his wife and you, he will not be a man to be envied.  That is another reason for helping the marriage as much as we can.”

“What if the glass-blower makes her give him money?” asked the Georgian woman.  “If she loves him she will give him everything she has, and he will take all he can get, of course.”

“Of course, if she had anything to give,” said Aristarchi.  “But she will only have what you allow Contarini to give her.  The young man knows well enough that her dowry will all be paid to her husband on the day of the marriage.  It does not matter, for if he is in love he will not care much about the money.”

“I hope he will be careful.  Any one else may see him with her, as you did, and may warn old Contarini that his intended daughter-in-law is in love with a boy belonging to the glass-house.  The marriage would be broken off at once if that happened.”

“That is true.”

So they talked together, judging Zorzi and Marietta according to their views of human nature, which they deduced chiefly from their experience of themselves.  From time to time Arisa went and listened at the hole in the floor, and when she heard the guests beginning to take their leave she hid Aristarchi in the embrasure of a disused window that was concealed by a tapestry, and she went into the larger room and lay down among the cushions by the balcony.  When Contarini came, a few minutes later, she seemed to have fallen asleep like a child, weary of waiting for him.

So far both she and Aristarchi looked upon Zorzi, who did not know of their existence, with a friendly eye, but their knowledge of his love for Marietta was in reality one more danger in his path.  If at any future moment he seemed about to endanger the success of their plans, the strong Greek would soon find an opportunity of sending him to another world, as he had sent many another innocent enemy before.  They themselves were safe enough for the present, and it was not likely that they would commit any indiscretion that might endanger their future flight.  They had long ago determined what to do if Contarini should accidentally find Aristarchi in the house.  Long before his body was found, they would both be on the high seas; few persons knew of Arisa’s existence, no one connected the Greek merchant captain in any way with Contarini, and no one guessed the sailing qualities of the unobtrusive vessel that lay in the Giudecca waiting for a cargo, but ballasted to do her best, and well stocked with provisions and water.  The crew knew nothing, when other sailors asked when they were to sail; the men could only say that their captain was the owner of the vessel and was very hard to please in the matter of a cargo.