Frà Giovanni's tone, perhaps, betrayed him. The trembling man began to take heart a little.
"Prove me Excellency," he whined; "prove me here and now."
The friar made a pretence of debating it. After a little spell of silence he bade the other rise.
"Come," he said, "your legs catch cold, my friend, and will burn slowly. Stretch them here upon the Campo while I ask you some questions. And remember, for every lie you tell me there shall be another wedge in the boot you are about to wear. You understand that, signorè?"
"Excellency, the man that could lie to the Prince of Iseo has yet to be born."
It was a compliment spoken from the very heart; but the priest ignored it.
"Let us not speak of others, but of you and your friends. And, firstly, of the woman who sent you. She is now—"
"In the Palazzo Pisani waiting news of you."
"You were to carry that news to her?"
"And to receive my wage, Excellency. But I did not know what work it was—Holy God, I would not have come for—"