Andrea Delfin Part 5

In the back of the room, three men paced up and down, whispering to one another, their faces covered by masks, under which only the tips of their beards stuck out. A fourth man, without a mask, sat at a table and wrote by the light of a single candle.

He looked up, when Samuele appeared with Andrea on the threshold.

It seemed as if the three others were not paying any attention to the visitors, but were rather busy in continuing their conversation.

"You're bringing the stranger, you told us about?" the secretary asked.

"Yes, Your Grace."

"You may leave, Samuele."

The Jew bowed obediently and left the room.

After a pause, during which the secretary of the tribunal had looked through some papers, which were lying in front of him, and then had checked out the appearance of the stranger with a long look, he said: "Your name is Andrea Delfin; are you related to the Venetian n.o.bili of the same name?"

"Not that I know of. My family resided in Brescia for as long as anybody can remember."

"You're living at the Calle della Cortesia with Giovanna Danieli; you're wishing to enter the service of the exalted Council of Ten."

"I wish to devote my services to the republic."

"Your papers from Brescia are in order. The advocate, for whom you've worked for five years, recommends you as an intelligent and reliable man. Only concerning the six or seven years before you came to him, there is no doc.u.ment whatsoever. What have you been up to in that long time, after your parents had died? You haven't spent it in Brescia?"

"No, Your Grace," Andrea replied calmly. "I was in foreign countries, in France, Holland, and Spain. After I had spent my small inheritance, I reluctantly had to become a servant."

"Your references?"

"They've been stolen from me, having been in a suitcase which contained all of my possessions. After this, I was tired of the unsafe life of a traveller and went back to Brescia. My employers had found me suited for all kinds of secretarial work. I tried my luck with an advocate, and you can see the reference for yourself, Your Grace, attesting that I've learned to work."

While he was saying this, in a quiet, submissive posture, his head slightly bent forward and holding the hat in both hands, suddenly one of the three masked gentlemen stepped closer to the table, and Andrea felt a piercing look directed at him.

"What's your name?" asked the inquisitor with a voice revealing his old age.

"Andrea Delfin. My papers prove it."

"Consider that it means your death if you betray the exalted tribunal. Think about the answer once again. What if I'd now say that your name was Candiano?"

A short pause followed this word, the larvae of the deathwatch-beetle could be heard digging through the timber-work of the room. Eight scrutinising eyes were fixed on the stranger.

"Candiano?" he said slowly, but with a firm voice. "Why should I be called Candiano? I'd truly wish for it myself; because, as far as I know, the Candiano family is rich and n.o.ble, and whoever bears this name doesn't need to earn his bread laboriously with the pen."

"You've got a Candiano's face. Furthermore, your manners point to a better upbringing than what these papers attest."

"My face is not my fault, exalted gentlemen," replied Andrea with decent openness. As far as my manners are concerned, I have seen all kinds of customs on my travels and improved my own as much as I could; I also haven't wasted any time in Brescia, but rather used books to catch up on what I had missed in my youth."

By now, the two other inquisitors had stepped closer to that first one, and one of them, whose red beard stuck out widely from under the mask, said in a low voice: "A resemblance, which I would not want to deny, might deceive you. But you know for yourself: The branch of the family which used to reside near Marano has died out; the old man has been buried in Rome, the sons did not outlive him for long."

"This may be," replied the first one. "But look at him and say, whether it isn't just as if old Luigi Candiano had risen from his grave, only being rejuvenated. I've known him well enough; we've been elected to the senate on the same day."

He took the papers from the table and examined them carefully.

"You may be right," he finally said. "The age wouldn't be match up. He's too old to be one of Luigi's sons. If he had fathered him before his marriage - we would be able to ignore it."

He threw the papers back on the table, gave the secretary a sign, and stepped back to the window's niche with the others, quietly continuing the interrupted conversation. n.o.body could read from Andrea's eyes what a burden had, in this moment, fallen off his soul. The secretary started again. "You understand foreign languages?" he asked.

"I speak French and a little German, Your Grace."

"German? Where have you learned this?"

"A German painter in Brescia has been a good friend of mine."

"Have you ever been to Triest?"

"For two months, Your Grace, doing business for my employer, the advocate."

The secretary got up and walked over to the three men by the window. After a while, he returned to the table and said: "You'll be given the pa.s.sport of an Austrian subject, who was born in Triest. With this, you'll go to the house of the Austrian amba.s.sador and ask for his protection, because the republic was threatening to deport you. You'll say that you had left Triest at a young age and had gone to Brescia. Whatever answer you may receive, with some cleverness, this visit will be all you need to get acquainted with the amba.s.sador's secretary. It is your task to continue this relationship and to observe the secret contacts of the court of Vienna with the aristocracy of Venice as much as you can. If you should discover the slightest thing which would arouse your suspicion, you have to report it immediately."

"Does the high tribunal wish me to abandon my present position with the notary Fanfani?"

"You won't change anything about the routine of your life. For the first month, your salary is only twelve ducats. It is up to your cleverness and caution to double the amount."

Andrea bowed to signalise that he agreed with everything.

"Here is your German pa.s.sport," said the secretary. "Your lodgings are next to the palace of Countess Amidei. It'll be easy for you to start a relationship with her chamber-maid, the expenses of which shall be refunded to you. Whatever you'll find out by these means about relationships the countess has with n.o.ble Venetians, you'll report right here. The republic expects you to fulfil your task faithfully and conscientiously. It will not bind you by means of an oath, because you wouldn't have human blood in your veins and would also laugh at heavenly justice, if the fear of the earthy punishments we inflict wouldn't confine you to your duty. You are dismissed."

Andrea bowed once again and turned to the door. The secretary called him back.

"One more thing," he said, while unlocking a small box, which stood on the table. "Step closer, and take a look at the dagger in this box. There are large factories for weapons in Brescia.

Do you remember having seen any work resembling this one there?"

Controlling his emotions with his last bit of strength, Andrea looked into the container, which the secretary held out to him.

He recognised the weapon just too well. It was a double-bladed knife, the handle, also made of steel, in the shape of a cross.

On the blade, which had not been cleansed from the blood yet, these words were engraved: "Death to all inquisitors of the state".

After a lengthy examination, he pushed the box back with a firm hand. "I do not recall," he said, "having seen a similar dagger in the shops of Brescia."

"It's good."

The secretary locked the small box again and motioned him with his hand to leave. With slow steps, Andrea left the room. The men with the halberds let him pa.s.s; like in a dream, he went along the echoing corridor, and only when he had reached the dark staircase, he allowed himself to sit down on the marble steps for a moment. His knees were close to failing him; cold sweat covered his forehead, the tongue stuck to his palate.

When he stepped out of the building, he took a deep breath, bravely he held his head high, and returned to his decisive posture. Outside by the portal opening to the Piazzetta, he saw a crowd standing closely together, eagerly reading a large poster, which had been attached to one of the columns. He also joined them and read that by the Council of Ten, with the high permission of the doge, a reward of a thousand zecchini as well a pardon from exile or other punishment was promised to him who would be able to inform on the murderer of Venier. People were rushing from and to the column, and only a few lurking faces persistently reappeared again and again under the arcades, observing the faces of the readers. Andrea also did not escape their attention. But with the indifference of a completely uninvolved stranger, he left to make room for other curious people, after quickly glancing over the paper, and then, he calmly stepped into a gondola at the Grand Ca.n.a.l, which was to get him to the hotel of the Austrian amba.s.sador.

When, after a lengthy ride, he got off in front of the palace, situated in a rather remote part of the city, bearing the two-headed eagle above the entrance, a tall, young man was just using the knocker of the gate. He looked around for the gondola, and his serious features suddenly became cheerful. "Ser Delfin,"

he said and extended his hand to Andrea, "to meet you here? Don't you remember me? Have you already forgotten that night at the Lago di Garda?"

"It's you, Baron Rosenberg!" replied Andrea and heartily shook the right hand which had been extended to him. "Are you going to stay for a long time in Venice, or are you already getting your pa.s.sport here, to continue your travels?"

"Heaven knows," said the other one, "when my star will ever lead me away from here, and whether I will welcome or curse it then.

But for my pa.s.sport, I don't need to bother anybody, since I can endorse it for myself. For you ought to know, dear friend, that you're talking to the secretary of His Excellency the Austrian amba.s.sador, which I'm truly not saying for the purpose of pushing a wall of diplomacy between me and my dear travel-companion of Riva, but in your own interest, good fellow, since not every Venetian would wish to be regarded as an old acquaintance of mine."

"I've nothing to fear," said Andrea. "If I'm not bothering you, I'll step inside with you for a moment."