“Safe,” she repeated under her breath as she went, “safe, safe, safe!”

It was to give herself courage, for she could hardly believe it, though she knew that Pasquale would not deceive her and must have some strong good reason for what he said.  There had not been time to question him.

All he knew himself was that a man whose face he could not see had whispered to him that Zorzi was in no danger.  But he had recognised the other man who had gone up the footway first, in spite of his short cloak and hood, and he felt well assured that Charalambos Aristarchi could throw the officer and his six men into the canal without anybody’s help, if he chose, though why the Greek ruffian was suddenly inspired to interfere on Zorzi’s behalf was a mystery past his comprehension.

Marietta entered her room, and Nella, who had been revelling in the coming conversation, was suddenly very busy, stirring the drink of lime flowers which Marietta had ordered.  She was so sure that her mistress had been all the time in the house, and so anxious not to have it thought that she could possibly have been idle, even for a moment, that she looked intently into the cup and stirred the contents in a most conscientious manner.  Marietta turned from her almost immediately and began to undo the braids of hair, that Nella might comb it out and plait it again for the night.  Nella immediately began to talk, and to tell all that she had seen from the window, with many other things which she had not seen.

“But of course you were looking out, too,” she said presently.  “They were all at the windows for some time.”

“No,” Marietta answered.  “I was not looking out.”

“Well, it was to-night, and not to-morrow, you see.  Do you think the Governor is stupid?  If he had waited till to-morrow, we should have told Zorzi.  Poor Zorzi!  I saw them taking him away, loaded with chains.”

“In chains!” cried Marietta, starting painfully.

“I could not see the chains,” continued Nella apologetically, “but I am sure they were there.  It was too dark to see.  Poor Zorzi!  Poor Zorzi!  By this time he is in the prison under the Governor’s house, and he wishes that he had never been born.  A little straw, a little water!  That is all he has.”

Marietta moved in her chair, as if something hurt her, but she knew that it would be unwise to stop the woman’s talk.  Besides, Nella was evidently sorry for Zorzi, though she thought his arrest very interesting.  She went on for a long time, combing more and more slowly, after the manner of talkative maids, when they fear that their work may be finished before their story.  But for Pasquale’s reassuring words, Marietta felt that she must have gone mad.  Zorzi was safe, somewhere, and he was not in the Governor’s prison, on the straw.  She told herself so again and again as Nella went on.

“There is one thing I did not tell you,” said the latter, with a sudden increase of vigour at the thought.