“Come and see Dame Veneranda.”
“Willingly.”
“Come with us, Casanova.”
Dame Veneranda looked a perfect cannoness, and I did not think that Marcoline would fall in love with her, but she seemed sensible and trustworthy. M. Querini told her in our presence what he had just told Marcoline, and the duenna assured him that she would take the utmost care of the young lady. Marcoline kissed her and called her mother, thus gaining the old lady’s, good graces. We rejoined the company, who expressed to Marcoline their intense pleasure at having her for a companion on their journey.
“I shall have to put my steward in another carriage,” said M. Querini, “as the calash only holds two.”
“That will not be necessary,” I remarked, “for Marcoline has her carriage, and Mistress Veneranda will find it a very comfortable one. It will hold her luggage as well.”
“You want to give me your carriage,” said Marcoline. “You are too good to me.”
I could made no reply, my emotion was so great. I turned aside and wiped away my tears. Returning to the company, I found that Marcoline had vanished and M. Morosini, who was also much affected told me she had gome, to speak to Mistress Veneranda. Everybody was melancholy, and seeing that I was the cause I began to talk about England, where I hoped to make my fortune with a project of mine, the success of which only depended on Lord Egremont. M. de Morosini said he would give me a letter for Lord Egremont and another for M. Zuccata, the Venetian ambassador.
“Are you not afraid,” said M. Querini, “of getting into trouble with the State Inquisitors for recommending M. Casanova?”
Morosini replied coldly that as the Inquisitors had not told him for what crime I was condemned, he did not feel himself bound to share their judgment. Old Querini, who was extremely particular, shook his head and said nothing.