'What is it, Excellency?'
'You need not call me that, Vito,' answered Zoë. 'I want you to row me at sunset to the landing which is nearest to the palace gate. It must be the dirty little one on this side of the Amena tower, is it not?'
'That is it. But without the master's orders——'
Vito looked at her doubtfully, for he had been reminded that she considered herself a slave, and it occurred to him that she meant to escape in Zeno's absence.
'Messer Carlo would wish me to go, if he were here,' said Zoë quietly, and not at all as if she were insisting, for she saw what was the matter.
'I have no doubt it is as you say,' Vito answered. 'But I have no orders.'
'There is a message from the master to some one in the palace,' Zoë explained. 'No one but I can deliver it.'
'That is easily said,' observed Vito bluntly. 'There are no orders.'
Zoë felt the blood rising to her forehead at the man's rudeness and distrust of her, but she controlled herself, for much depended on obtaining what she wished.
'It is not a message,' she said; 'it is a letter.'