The fool never thought how he had responded to my prayers.

"You are right," I said, "you may stop here on the condition that you
will pray to St. Francis; and that you go forthwith and fetch my books,
which I wish to leave to the count."

He did so without answering me, doubtless with much joy. My books were
worth at least a hundred crowns. The count told me that he would give
them back on my return.

"You may be sure," I said, "that you will never see me here again. The
books will cover your expenditure of two sequins. As to this rascal, I am
delighted, as he cannot muster sufficient courage to come with me. He
would be in the way, and the fellow is not worthy of sharing with Father
Balbi and myself the honours of so brave a flight."

"That's true," said the count, "provided that he does not congratulate
himself to-morrow."

I asked the count to give me pens, ink, and paper, which he possessed in
spite of the regulations to the contrary, for such prohibitions were
nothing to Lawrence, who would have sold St. Mark himself for a crown. I
then wrote the following letter, which I gave to Soradaci, not being able
to read it over, as I had written it in the dark. I began by a fine
heading, which I wrote in Latin, and which in English would run thus:

"'I shall not die, but live and declare the works of the Lord.'"

"Our lords of state are bound to do all in their power to keep a prisoner