"Messer Gastaldo," Antonio answered with reluctance, "by signs which be but trifles to relate,—by a word dropped in Padua, and not for mine ear,—one of them—I know not which—hath, perchance, affair with a master mightier than thou." He made the usual gesture which indicated the Three of that terrible Inquisition whose name was better left unsaid—a sign much used in Venice where the very walls had ears.
It was a blow to Piero, but he wasted no words.
"They then—both—are apart from this and all my counsel. It shall be for thee alone, Antonio."
"So safer, Messer Gastaldo. I listen—and forget, save as it shall serve thee."
"First, then, Antonio; I have sworn to escort the Lady of the Giustiniani in safety to Rome, from which naught shall keep me—save if the Ten have other plans, the Madonna doth forgive the broken vow!"
It was a strange admission from a man stalwart and fearless like Piero, but he made it without shame, as a soldier acquiescing in destiny.
"Santissima Maria!" Antonio ejaculated with unusual fervor and crossing himself in full realization of the meaning.
"At Brondolo a brig is waiting—orange and yellow of sail, device of a blazing sun; a hunchback, with doublet of orange above the mast for luck, and a fine figure of a gobbo upon the deck—a living hunchback—by which thou shalt know it for mine, and bound to my order whether it come by me or by my token. If we reach and board her it shall be well—and Rome, so will it heaven, before us all! But if the dreaded ones are on the search and overtake us——"
Again the sign.
The tragedy of the situation was in his face as he looked steadily at
Antonio, who did not flinch.