Giovanni offered the lad a piece of money, but he would not take it.

“We are glass-blowers’ sons, sir, we are not poor people,” he said with theatrical pride, for he would have taken the coin without remark if he had not felt that he possessed a secret of great value, which might place Giovanni in his power before long.

Giovanni was surprised.

“What do you want, then?” he asked.

“I am old enough to be an apprentice, sir.”

“Very well,” answered Giovanni.  “You shall be an apprentice.  But hold your tongue about what you saw.  You told me everything, did you?”

“Yes, sir.  And I thank you for your kindness, sir.  If I can help you, sir—­” he stopped.

“Help me!” exclaimed Giovanni.  “I do not work at the furnaces!  Wash your face and come by and by to my glass-house, and you shall have an apprentice’s place.”

“I shall serve you well, sir.  You shall see that I am grateful,” answered the boy.

He touched Giovanni’s sleeve and kissed his own hand, and ran back to the steps before the front door.  There he knelt down, leaning over the water, and washed his face in the canal, well pleased with the price he had got for his bruising.

Giovanni did not look at him, but turned to go on, past the corner of the house, in deep thought.  From the narrow line into which the back door opened, Marietta and Nella emerged at the same moment.  Nella had made sure that Giovanni had gone out, but she could not foresee that he would stop a long time to talk with the boy in the covered footway.  She ran against him, as he passed the corner, for she was walking on Marietta’s left side.  The young girl’s face was covered, but she knew that Giovanni must recognise her instantly, by her cloak, and because Nella was with her.

“Where are you going?” he asked sharply.

“To church, sir, to church,” answered Nella in great perturbation.  “The young lady is going to confession.”

“Ah, very good, very good!” exclaimed Giovanni, who was very attentive to religious forms.  “By all means go to confession, my sister.  You cannot be too conscientious in the performance of your duties.”

But Marietta laughed a little under her veil.

“I had not the least intention of going to confession this morning,” she said.  “Nella said so because you frightened her.”

“What?  What is this?” Giovanni looked from one to the other.  “Then where are you going?”

“To the glass-house,” answered Marietta with perfect coolness.

“You are not going to the laboratory?  Zorzi is living there alone.  You cannot go there.”

“I am not afraid of Zorzi.  In the first place, I wish to know how he is.  Secondly, this is the hour for making the tests, and as he cannot stand he cannot try the glass alone.”

Giovanni was amazed at her assurance, and immediately assumed a grave and authoritative manner befitting the eldest brother who represented the head of the house.