Part 29 (1/2)

”In order to receive his dying confession, of course. I thought you would understand! And his dying confession was that he, Michael Pandos, a Greek robber, had killed the man for whose murder I was being hanged that morning. My man came just in time, for as the friar's head was half shaved, as monks' heads are, he had to shave the rest, as they do for coolness in the south, and he had only his knife with which to do it. But no one found that out, for he had been a barber, as he had been a monk and most other things. He looked very well in a cowl, and spoke Neapolitan. I did not know him when he came to the foot of the gallows, howling out that I was innocent.”

”Were you?” asked Arisa.

”Of course I was,” answered Aristarchi with conviction.

”Who was the man that had been killed?”

”I forget his name,” said the Greek. ”He was a Neapolitan gentleman of great family, I believe. I forget the name. He had red hair.”

Arisa laughed and stroked Aristarchi's big head. She thought she had made him betray himself.

”You had seen him then?” she said, with a question. ”I suppose you happened to see him just before he died, as your man saw the monk.”

”Oh no!” answered Aristarchi, who was not to be so easily caught. ”It was part of the dying confession. It was necessary to identify the murdered person. How should Michael Parados, the Greek robber, know the name of the gentleman he had killed? He gave a minute description of him. He said he had red hair.”

”You are not a Greek for nothing,” laughed Arisa.

”Did you ever hear of Odysseus?” asked Aristarchi.

”No. What should I know of your Greek G.o.ds? If you were a good Christian, you would not speak of them.”

”Odysseus was not a G.o.d,” answered Aristarchi, with a grin. ”He was a good Christian. I have often thought that he must have been very like me. He was a great traveller and a tolerable sailor.”

”A pirate?” inquired Arisa.

”Oh no! He was a man of the most n.o.ble and upright character, incapable of deception! In fact he was very like me, and had nearly as many adventures. If you understood Greek, I would repeat some verses I know about him.”

”Should you love me more, if I understood Greek?” asked Arisa softly. ”If I thought so, I would learn it.”

Aristarchi laughed roughly, so that she was almost afraid lest he should be heard far down in the house.

”Learn Greek? You? To make me like you better? You would be just as beautiful if you were altogether dumb! A man does not love a woman for what she can say to him, in any language.”

He turned up his face, and his rough hands drew her splendid head down to him, till he could kiss her. Then there was silence for a few minutes.

He shook his great shoulders at last.

”Everything else is a waste of time,” he said, as if speaking to himself.

Her head lay on the cus.h.i.+ons now, and she watched him with half-closed eyes in the soft light, and now and then the thin embroideries that covered her neck and bosom rose and fell with a long, satisfied sigh. He rose to his feet and slowly paced the marble floor, up and down before her, as he would have paced the little p.o.o.p-deck of his vessel.

”I am glad you told me about that gla.s.s-blower,” he said suddenly. ”I have met him and talked with him, and I may meet him again. He is old Beroviero's chief a.s.sistant. I fancy he is in love with the daughter.”

”In love with the girl whom Contarini is to marry?” asked Arisa, suddenly opening her eyes.

”Yes. I told you what I said to the old man in his private room-it was more like a brick-kiln than a rich man's counting-house! While I was inside, the young man was talking to the girl under a tree. I saw them through a low window as I sat discussing business with Beroviero.”

”You could not hear what they said, I suppose.”

”No. But I could see what they looked.” Aristarchi laughed at his own conceit. ”The girl was doing some kind of work. The young man stood beside her, resting one hand against the tree. I could not see his face all the time, but I saw hers. She is in love with him. They were talking earnestly and she said something that had a strong effect upon him, for I saw that he stood a long time looking at the trunk of the tree, and saying nothing. What can you make of that, except that they are in love with each other?”