'You knew it long ago,' she answered. 'And what you did not know, you guessed. You kept yours better far.'
'I kept that one from myself, as best I could,' said he, understanding what she meant. 'I could not keep it for ever! But since we know that we love, our life begins here, and together. Together, because you saved mine—I know everything, for they have told me; and so my life is yours, and yours is mine, because we were born to mate, as falcons mate with falcons, doves with doves, and song-birds with song-birds.'
'Say falcons!' laughed Zoë. 'I like the brave bird better!'
'I do, too,—and so my little falcon, Arethusa, we must wing it together to a safer nest before Tocktamish or some other barbarian stirs up a counter-revolution. Will you come with me?'
She smiled and laid her hand in his.
'Am I not your bought slave?' she asked. 'I must obey.'
'That is not enough. We are Christian man and maid. You shall go with me in honour to my own people.'
'A gentleman of Venice cannot marry a slave,' she objected, though she smiled.
He laughed, happily, and drew back from her a little.
'A gentleman of Venice may do what seems good in his own eyes, if it be not treason,' he said. 'I publish the banns of marriage between Messer Carlo Zeno, of Venice, bachelor, and Arethusa——'