He and his son took their leave, the Governor promising to keep them informed as to the progress of the search.  At present nothing more could be done, for Zorzi has disappeared altogether, and old Beroviero was much inclined to share his son’s opinion that the fugitive was already on his way to Milan, or Florence, where the possession of the secrets would insure him a large fortune, very greatly to the injury of Beroviero and all the glass-workers of Murano.  The two men returned to the house in silence, for the elder was too much absorbed by his own thoughts to speak, and Giovanni was too wise to interrupt reflections which undoubtedly tended to Zorzi’s destruction.

Marietta was awaiting her father’s return with much anxiety, for every one knew that the master had gone first to the laboratory and then to the Governor’s palace, with Giovanni, so that the two must have been talking together a long time.  Marietta waited with her sister-in-law in the lower hall, slowly walking up and down.

When her father came up the low steps at last, she went forward to meet him, and a glance told her that he was in the most extreme anxiety.  She took his hand and kissed it, in the customary manner, and he bent a little and touched her forehead with his lips.  Then, to her surprise, he put one hand under her chin, and laid the other on the top of her head, and with gentle force made her look at him.  Giovanni’s wife was there, and most of the servants were standing near the foot of the staircase to welcome their master.

Beroviero said nothing as he gazed into his daughter’s eyes.  They met his own fearlessly enough, and she opened them wide, as she rarely did, as if to show that she had nothing to conceal; but while he looked at her the blood rose blushing in her cheeks, telling that there was something to hide after all, and as she would not turn her eyes from his, they sparkled a little with vexation.  Beroviero did not speak, but he let her go and went on towards the stairs, bending his head graciously to the other persons who were assembled to greet him.

He was a man of strong character and of much natural dignity, far too proud to break down under a great loss or a bitter disappointment, and at dinner he sat at the head of the table and spoke affably of the journey he had made, explaining his unexpectedly early return by the fact that the Lord of Rimini had at once approved his designs and accepted his terms.  Occasionally Giovanni asked a respectful question, but neither his wife nor Marietta said much during the meal.  Zorzi was not mentioned.

“You are welcome at my house, my son,” Beroviero said, when they had finished, “but I suppose that you will go back to your own this evening.”

This was of course a command, and Marietta thought it a good omen.  She had felt sure, when her father made her look at him, that Giovanni had spoken to him of the mantle, but in what way she could not tell.  Perhaps, though it seemed incredible, he would not make such a serious case of it as she had expected.