But his good fortune seemed gone, and instead of winning at almost every throw, as he had won in the afternoon, he soon found that he had almost exhausted the heap of gold he had laid on the table, and which he had thought more than enough.  He staked the remainder with Foscari, who won it at a cast, and laughed.

“You offered us our revenge,” said the big man.  “We mean to take it!”

But though Contarini was not a good fighter, he was a good gamester, and never allowed himself to be disturbed by ill-luck.  He joined in the laugh and rose from the table.

“You must forgive me,” he said, “if I leave you for a moment.  I must fill my purse before I play again.”

“Do not stay too long!” laughed Loredan.  “If you do, we shall come and get you, and then we shall know the colour of the lady’s hair.”

Contarini laughed as he went to the door, opened it and stealthily set the key in the lock on the outside.

“I shall lock you in while I am gone!” he cried.  “You are far too inquisitive!”

Laughing gaily he turned the key on the whole company, and he heard their answering laughter as he went away, for they accepted the jest, and continued playing.

He entered the large room upstairs, just as Aristarchi had finished tying up the heavy bundle in the inner chamber.  Arisa heard the well-known footstep, and placed one hand over Aristarchi’s mouth, lest he should speak, while the other pointed to the curtained door.  The Greek held his breath.

“Arisa!  Arisa!” Contarini called out.  “Bring me a light, sweetest!”

Without hesitation Arisa took the lighted candle, and making a gesture of warning to Aristarchi went quickly to the other room.  The Greek crept towards the door, the big veins standing out like knots on his rugged temples, his great hands opened wide, with the tips of the fingers a little turned in.  He was like a wrestler ready to get his hold with a spring.

“I want some more money,” Contarini was saying, in explanation.  “They said they would follow me if I stayed too long, so I have locked them in!  I think I shall keep them waiting a while.  What do you say, love?”

He laughed again, aloud, and on the other side of the curtain Aristarchi grinned from ear to ear and noiselessly loosened the black sash he wore round his waist.  For once in his life, as Zorzi would have said, he had not a coil of rope at hand when he needed it, but the sash was strong and would serve the purpose.  He pushed the curtain aside, a very little, in order to see before springing.

Contarini stood half turned away from the door, clasping Arisa to his breast and kissing her hair.  The next moment he was sprawling on the floor, face downwards, and Arisa was pressing one of the soft cushions from the divan upon his head to smother his cries, while Aristarchi bound his hands firmly together behind him with one end of the long sash, and in spite of his desperate struggle got a turn with the rest round both his feet, drew them back as far as he could and hitched the end twice.  Jacopo was now perfectly helpless, but he was not yet dumb.  Aristarchi had brought his tools with him, in the bosom of his doublet.