Terror made them blind, and as shelter was now the sole object of the
fugitives, they would probably have sought it in the chamber of doom
itself, had there been an opportunity. As it was, they turned and
entered the first, and indeed the only gate which offered. They were met
by a girl, whose anxious face betrayed that singular compound of
self-devotion and terror, which probably has its rise in the instinct of
feminine sympathies.
"Here is safety, noble ladies," said the youthful Venetian, in the soft
accent of her native islands; "none will dare do you harm within these
walls."
"Into whose palace have I entered?" demanded the half-breathless
Violetta. "If its owner has a name in Venice, he will not refuse
hospitality to a daughter of Tiepolo."
"Signora, you are welcome," returned the gentle girl, curtsying low, and
still leading the way deeper within the vast edifice. "You bear the name
of an illustrious house!"
"There are few in the Republic of note, from whom I may not claim,
either the kindness of ancient and near services, or that of kindred.
Dost thou serve a noble master?"
"The first in Venice, lady."
"Name him, that we may demand his hospitality as befits us."
"Saint Mark."
Donna Violetta and her governess stopped short.
"Have we unconsciously entered a portal of the palace?"
"That were impossible, lady, since the canal lies between you and the
residence of the Doge.
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