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Crawford, F. Marion (Francis Marion), 1854-1909

"Marietta A Maid of Venice"


She heard him go and she listened for the shutting of the laboratory
door. Then she knew that she was quite alone in the garden, and she let
the tears flow as they would, bending her head till it touched the trunk
of the tree, and they wet the smooth bark and ran down to the dry earth.
Zorzi went in, and began to tend the fire as usual, until it should
please the master to give him other orders. Old Beroviero was sitting in
the big chair in which he sometimes rested himself, his elbow on one of
its arms, and his hand grasping his beard below his chin.
"Zorzi," he said at last, "I have seen that man before."
Zorzi looked at him, expecting more, but for some time Beroviero said
nothing. The young man selected his pieces of beech wood, laying them
ready before the little opening just above the floor.
"It is very strange," said Beroviero at last. "He seems to be a rich
merchant now, but I am almost quite sure that I saw him in Naples."
"Did you know him there, sir?" asked Zorzi.
"No," answered his master thoughtfully. "I saw him in a cart with his
hands tied behind him, on his way to be hanged."
"He looks as if one hanging would not be enough for him," observed
Zorzi.
Beroviero was silent for a moment. Then he laughed, and he laughed very
rarely.


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