“That noble just behind him is Fiofio Dandolo.  What a grand family they have been, what a number of great men they have given to the republic!  I should like to have seen the grand old Doge who stormed the walls of Constantinople, and divided the Eastern empire among the crusading barons.  He was a hero indeed.

“No; I don’t know who that young noble in the green velvet cap and plum coloured dress is.  O yes, I do, though; it is Ruggiero Mocenigo; he has been away for the last two years at Constantinople; he was banished for having killed Polo Morosini—­he declared it was in fair fight, but no one believed him.  They had quarrelled a few days before over some question of the precedence of their families, and Morosini was found dead at the top of the steps close to the church of Saint Paolo.  Some people heard a cry and ran up just as Mocenigo leapt into his gondola, but as it rowed off their shouts called the attention of one of the city guard boats which happened to be passing, and it was stopped.  As his sword was still wet with blood, he could not deny that he was the author of the deed, but, as I said, he declared it was in fair fight.  The Morosinis asserted that Polo’s sword was undrawn, but the Mocenigo family brought forward a man, who swore that he was one of the first to arrive, and pick up the sword and place it in its scabbard to prevent its being lost.  No doubt he lied; but as Mocenigo’s influence in the council was greater than that of the Morosini, the story was accepted.  However, the public feeling was so strong that they could not do less than sentence Ruggiero to two years’ banishment.  I suppose that has just expired, and he has returned from Constantinople.  He had a bad reputation before this affair took place, but as his connections are so powerful, I suppose he will be received as if nothing had happened.  There are plenty of others as bad as he is.”

“It’s a scandalous thing,” Francis Hammond said indignantly, “that, just because they have got powerful connections, men should be allowed to do, almost with impunity, things for which an ordinary man would be hung.  There ought to be one law for the rich as well as the poor.”

“So there is as far as the state is concerned,” his companion replied.  “A noble who plots against the state is as certain of a place in the lowest dungeons as a fisherman who has done the same; but in other respects there is naturally some difference.”

“Why naturally?” Francis retorted.  “You belong to a powerful family, Giustiniani, and my father is only a trader, but I don’t see that naturally you have any more right to get me stabbed in the back, than I have to get you put out of the way.”

“Naturally perhaps not,” Matteo laughed; “but you see it has become a second nature to us here in Venice.  But seriously I admit that the present state of things has grown to be a scandal, and that the doings of some of our class ought to be put down with a strong hand.”