habit of conversing with him every night from my window, and he must have
heard of my having embarked for Venice on board the Ferrara barge. I feel
certain that my father is now in Venice, making secretly every effort to
discover me. When he visits this city he always puts up at Boncousin;
will you ascertain whether he is there?"

She never pronounced Steffani's name without disgust and hatred, and she
said she would bury herself in a convent, far away from her native place,
where no one could be acquainted with her shameful history.

I intended to make some enquiries the next day, but it was not necessary
for me to do so, for in the evening, at supper-time, M. Barbaro said to
us,

"A nobleman, a subject of the Pope, has been recommended to me, and
wishes me to assist him with my influence in a rather delicate and
intricate matter. One of our citizens has, it appears, carried off his
daughter, and has been hiding somewhere with her for the last fortnight,
but nobody knows where. The affair ought to be brought before the Council
of Ten, but the mother of the ravisher claims to be a relative of mine,
and I do not intend to interfere."

I pretended to take no interest in M. Barbaro's words, and early the next
morning I went to the young countess to tell her the interesting news.
She was still asleep; but, being in a hurry, I sent the widow to say that
I wanted to see her only for two minutes in order to communicate
something of great importance. She received me, covering herself up to
the chin with the bed-clothes.

As soon as I had informed her of all I knew, she entreated me to enlist