They do not know that the gloom and quiet of the place are due to more than nature.”

My lord began to laugh. Either he had been drinking, or the success of his villainy had served for wine. “You are a man in a thousand, Nicolo!” he said. “How far above or below the ship is this fortunate wood?”

“Just opposite, my lord.”

“Can a boat land easily?”

“A creek runs through the wood to the river. There needs but the appointed signal from the bank, and a boat from the Santa Teresa can be rowed up the stream to the very tree beneath which the lady sits.”

My lord’s laughter rang out again. “You’re a man in ten thousand, Nicolo! Nicolo, the bridegroom’s