I was distressed to hear his account, as I saw that the wretch would probably remain a long time in my company.  Having to inform Father Balbi of this fatal misadventure, I wrote to him during the night, and being obliged to do so more than once, I got accustomed to write correctly enough in the dark.

On the next day, to assure myself that my suspicions were well founded, I told the spy to give me the letter I had written to M. de Bragadin as I wanted to add something to it.  “You can sew it up afterwards,” said I.

“It would be dangerous,” he replied, “as the gaoler might come in in the mean time, and then we should be both ruined.”

“No matter.  Give me my letters:” 

Thereupon the hound threw himself at my feet, and swore that on his appearing for a second time before the dreaded secretary, he had been seized with a severe trembling; and that he had felt in his back, especially in the place where the letters were, so intolerable an oppression, that the secretary had asked him the cause, and that he had not been able to conceal the truth.  Then the secretary rang his bell, and Lawrence came in, unbound him, and took off his waist-coat and unsewed the lining.  The secretary then read the letters and put them in a drawer of his bureau, telling him that if he had taken the letters he would have been discovered and have lost his life.

I pretended to be overwhelmed, and covering my face with my hands I knelt down at the bedside before the picture of the Virgin, and asked, her to avenge me on the wretch who had broken the most sacred oaths.  I afterwards lay down on the bed, my face to the wall, and remained there the whole day without moving, without speaking a word, and pretending not to hear the tears, cries, and protestations of repentance uttered by the villain.  I played my part in the comedy I had sketched out to perfection.  In the night I wrote to Father Balbi to come at two o’clock in the afternoon, not a minute sooner or later, to work for four hours, and not a minute more.  “On this precision,” I wrote, “our liberty depends and if you observe it all will be well.”

It was the 25th of October, and the time for me to carry out my design or to give it up for ever drew near.  The State Inquisitors and their secretary went every year to a village on the mainland, and passed there the first three days of November.  Lawrence, taking advantage of his masters’ absence, did not fail to get drunk every evening, and did not appear at The Leads in the morning till a late hour.

Advised of these circumstances, I chose this time to make my escape, as I was certain that my flight would not be noticed till late in the morning.  Another reason for my determination to hurry my escape, when I could no longer doubt the villainy of my detestable companion, seems to me to be worthy of record.