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

"Marietta A Maid of Venice"

He joined in the
laugh and rose from the table.
"You must forgive me," he said, "if I leave you for a moment. I must
fill my purse before I play again."
"Do not stay too long!" laughed Loredan. "If you do, we shall come and
get you, and then we shall know the colour of the lady's hair."
Contarini laughed as he went to the door, opened it and stealthily set
the key in the lock on the outside.
"I shall lock you in while I am gone!" he cried. "You are far too
inquisitive!"
Laughing gaily he turned the key on the whole company, and he heard
their answering laughter as he went away, for they accepted the jest,
and continued playing.
He entered the large room upstairs, just as Aristarchi had finished
tying up the heavy bundle in the inner chamber. Arisa heard the
well-known footstep, and placed one hand over Aristarchi's mouth, lest
he should speak, while the other pointed to the curtained door. The
Greek held his breath.
"Arisa! Arisa!" Contarini called out. "Bring me a light, sweetest!"
Without hesitation Arisa took the lighted candle, and making a gesture
of warning to Aristarchi went quickly to the other room. The Greek crept
towards the door, the big veins standing out like knots on his rugged
temples, his great hands opened wide, with the tips of the fingers a
little turned in.


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