"Signore, it is. When must this deed be done?"
"This night. Nay, this hour, even."
"Shall I strike a noble of his rank in his palace—in his very pleasures?"
"Come hither, Jacopo, and thou shalt know more. Hast thou a mask?"
The Bravo signified his assent.
"Then keep thy face behind a cloud, for it is not in favor here, and seek thy boat. I will join thee."
The young patrician, whose form was effectually concealed by his attire, quitted his companion, with a view of rejoining him anew, where his person should not be known. Jacopo forced his boat from among the crowd at the quay, and having entered the open space between the tiers, he lay on his oar, well knowing that he was watched, and that he would soon be followed. His conjecture was right, for in a few moments a gondola pulled swiftly to the side of his own, and two men in masks passed from the strange boat into that of the Bravo, without speaking.
"To the Lido," said a voice, which Jacopo knew to be that of his new employer.
He was obeyed, the boat of Giacomo Gradenigo following at a little distance. When they were without the tiers, and consequently beyond the danger of being overheard, the two passengers came out of the pavilion, and made a sign to the Bravo to cease rowing.
"Thou wilt accept the service, Jacopo Frontoni?" demanded the profligate heir of the old senator.