articles which had been confiscated.  The first chaplain—­a subject of Austria by birth—­was in the plot.  They gathered together of evenings in an inn, in a room where there was a bed; there they drank and talked, and afterwards went their ways.  As I was determined to discover the conspiracy, I was brave enough to hide under the bed on a day on which I was sure I would not be seen.  Towards the evening my gentlemen came, and began to talk; amongst other things, they said that the town of Isola was not within the jurisdiction of St. Mark, but rather in the principality of Trieste, as it could not possibly be considered to form part of the Venetian territory.  The chaplain said to the chief of the plot, a man named Pietro Paolo, that if he and the others would sign a document to that effect, he himself would go to the imperial ambassador, and that the Empress would not only take possession of the island, but would reward them for what they had done.  They all professed themselves ready to go on, and the chaplain promised to bring the document the next day, and afterwards to take it to the ambassadors.

“I determined to frustrate this detestable project, although one of the conspirators was my gossip—­a spiritual relationship which gave him a greater claim on me than if he had been my own brother.

“After they were gone, I came out of my hiding-place and did not think it necessary to expose myself to danger by hiding again as I had found out sufficient for my purpose.  I set out the same night in a boat, and reached here the next day before noon.  I had the names of the six rebels written down, and I took the paper to the secretary of the Tribunal, telling him all I had heard.  He ordered me to appear, the day following, at the palace, and an agent of the Government should go back with me to Isola that I might point the chaplain out to him, as he had probably not yet gone to the Austrian ambassador’s.  ‘That done,’ said the lord secretary, ‘you will no longer meddle in the matter.’  I executed his orders, and after having shewn the chaplain to the agent, I was at leisure for my own affairs.

“After dinner my gossip called me in to shave him (for I am a barber by profession), and after I had done so he gave me a capital glass of refosco with some slices of sausages, and we ate together in all good fellowship.  My love for him had still possession of my soul, so I took his hand, and, shedding some heartfelt tears, I advised him to have no more to do with the canon, and above all, not to sign the document he knew of.  He protested that he was no particular friend of the chaplain’s, and swore he did not know what document I was talking about.  I burst into a laugh, telling him it was only my joke, and went forth very sorry at having yielded to a sentiment of affection which had made me commit so grievous a fault.  The next day I saw neither the man nor the chaplain.  A week after, having paid a visit to the palace, I was promptly imprisoned, and here