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Updated: June 27, 2025
"They will say nothing more to-night," whispered Arisa. "They will play for hours." "They had not said a word that could put their necks in danger," answered Aristarchi discontentedly. "Who is this fellow from the glass-house, of whom they were speaking?" Arisa led him away to a small divan between the open windows.
"It would be amusing to pay a visit to those young fools downstairs, and to take all their money and leave them locked up for the night," he said, as if a thought had struck him. "There are too many of them," answered Arisa, laying her hand anxiously upon his arm. "And they are all armed. Please do nothing so foolish."
What can you make of that, except that they are in love with each other?" "That is strange," said Arisa, "for it was he that brought the message to Contarini, bidding him go and see her in Saint Mark's. That was how he chanced upon them, downstairs, at their last meeting." "How do you know it was that message, and not some other?" "Contarini told me."
"What if I got the worst of it?" asked Aristarchi, his vast mouth grinning at the idea. "You?" Arisa laughed contemptuously. "The man is not born who could kill you. I am sure of it." "One very nearly succeeded, once upon a time," said Aristarchi. "One man? I do not believe it!" "He chanced to be an executioner," answered the Greek calmly, "and I had my hands tied behind me." "Tell me about it."
"I have not even seen her. Her father sent me a message to-night, bidding me go to church on Sunday and stand beside a certain pillar." "To see and be seen," laughed Arisa. "It is not a fair exchange! She will look at the handsomest man in the world hush! That is the truth.
The next moment he was sprawling on the floor, face downwards, and Arisa was pressing one of the soft cushions from the divan upon his head to smother his cries, while Aristarchi bound his hands firmly together behind him with one end of the long sash, and in spite of his desperate struggle got a turn with the rest round both his feet, drew them back as far as he could and hitched the end twice.
Arisa looked on with savage interest, for she believed that it was some horrible instrument of torture; and indeed it was the iron gag, the 'pear of anguish, which the torturers used in those days, to silence those whom they called their patients. Holding the instrument closed, Aristarchi pushed his hand under the cushion.
I suppose you have killed many people," she added thoughtfully. "No," he answered, for though he loved her savagely, he did not trust her. "I never killed any one except in fair fight." Arisa laughed low, for she remembered. "When I first saw you," she said, "your hands were covered with blood.
There were days when he was reduced to borrowing money for his actual needs, and though an occasional stroke of good fortune at play temporarily relieved him, Arisa was sure that he was constantly sinking deeper into debt. But within the week, the aspect of his affairs had changed. The marriage with Marietta had been proposed, and Arisa had made a discovery.
I think the reason why I liked you was that you seemed so much more terrible than all the others who looked in at my cabin door." "I am as mild as milk and almonds," said Aristarchi. "I am as timid as a rabbit." His deep voice was like the purring of a huge cat. Arisa looked down at his head.
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