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Updated: May 28, 2025
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.
Aristarchi claimed her for himself, as his share of the booty, but his men knew her value. Standing shoulder to shoulder between him and her, they drew their knives and threatened to cut her to pieces, if he would not promise to sell her as she was, when they should come to land, and share the price with them.
"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."
"If they are all like Contarini, I do not mind twenty of them or so," laughed Aristarchi. "They must have more than a thousand gold ducats amongst them. That would be worth taking." "They are not all like Contarini," said Arisa. "There is Zuan Venier, for instance." "Zuan Venier? Is he one of them? I have heard of him.
He turned the helpless man upon his side, for owing to the position of his heels and hands Contarini could not lie on his back. Then Aristarchi set the candle on the floor near his face and looked at him and indulged himself in a low laugh.
Aristarchi rose early, though it had been broad dawn when he had entered his home. He lived not far from the house of the Agnus Dei, on the opposite side of the same canal but beyond the Baker's Bridge.
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