We found the Sicilian in a private prison where, as the officer assured us, he had been lodged for the present, to accommodate the prince, before being removed to the lead roofs, to which there is no access. These lead roofs are the most terrible prisons in Venice. They are situated on the top of the palace of St. Mark, and the miserable criminals suffer so dreadfully from the heat of the leads occasioned by the heat of the burning rays of the sun descending directly upon them that they frequently become delirious. The Sicilian had recovered from his yesterday’s terror, and rose respectfully on seeing the prince enter. He had fetters on one hand and on one leg, but was able to walk about the room at liberty. The sentinel at the door withdrew as soon as we had entered.
“I come,” said the prince, “to request an explanation of you on two subjects. You owe me the one, and it shall not be to your disadvantage if you grant me the other.”
“My part is now acted,” replied the Sicilian, “my destiny is in your hands.”
“Your sincerity alone can mitigate your punishment.
“Speak, honored prince, I am ready to answer you. I have nothing now to lose.”
“You showed me the face of the Armenian in a looking-glass. How was this effected?”
“What you saw was no looking-glass. A portrait in crayons behind a glass, representing a man in an Armenian dress, deceived you. My quickness, the twilight, and your astonishment favored the deception. The picture itself must have been found among the other things seized at the inn.”
“But how could you read my thoughts so accurately as to hit upon the Armenian?”
“This was not difficult, your highness. You must frequently have mentioned your adventure with the Armenian at table in the presence of your domestics. One of my accomplices accidentally got acquainted with one of your domestics in the Giudecca, and learned from him gradually as much as I wished to know.”
“Where is the man?” asked the prince; “I have missed him, and doubtless you know of his desertion.”