“Is Zorzi awake?” Marietta asked in a low tone, when both had gone a few steps down the corridor.

“Yes.  He will sleep little to-night, for the boys have not come, and he must tend the fire himself.”

Marietta guessed that her brother had given the order, so that Zorzi might be left quite alone.

“Pasquale,” she said, “I can trust you, I am sure.  You are a good friend to Zorzi.”

The porter growled something incoherent, but she understood what he meant.

“Yes,” she continued, “I trust you, and you must trust me.  It is absolutely necessary that I should speak with Zorzi alone to-night.  No one knows that I have left the house, and no one must know that I have been here.”

The old sailor had seen much in his day, but he was profoundly astonished at Marietta’s audacity.

“You are the mistress,” he said in a grave and quiet voice that Marietta had never heard before.  “But I am an old man, and I cannot help telling you that it is not seemly for a young girl to be alone at night with a young man, in the place where he lives.  You will forgive me for saying so, because I have served your father a long time.”

“You are quite right,” answered Marietta.  “But in matters of life and death there is nothing seemly or unseemly.  I have not time to explain all this.  Zorzi is in great danger.  For my father’s sake I must warn him, and I cannot stay out long.  Not even Nella must know that I am here.  Be ready to let me out.”

She almost ran down the corridor to the garden.  The moon was already too low to shine upon the walk, but the beams silvered the higher leaves of the plane-tree, and all was clear and distinct.  Even in her haste, she glanced at the place where she had so often sat, before her life had began to change.

There was a strong light in the laboratory and the window was open.  She looked in and saw Zorzi sitting in the great chair, his head leaning back and his eyes closed.  He was so pale and worn that, she felt a sharp pain as her eyes fell on his face.  His crutch was beside him, and he seemed to be asleep.  It was a pity to wake him, she thought, yet she could not lose time; she had lost too much already in talking with Pasquale.

“Zorzi!” She called him softly.

He started in his sleep, opened his eyes wide, and tried to spring up without his crutch, for he fancied himself in a dream.  She had thrown back the drapery that covered her head and the bright light fell upon her face.  It hurt her again to see how he staggered and put out his hand for his accustomed support.

“I am coming in,” she said quietly.  “Do not move, unless the door is locked.”

She met him before he was half across the room.  Instinctively she put out her hand to help him back to his chair.  Then she understood that he did not need it, for he was much better now.  She saw that he looked to the window, expecting to see Nella, and she smiled.