Oh, when her sense came back to her, for a flash she looked me cold yonder in that English chapel, and it seemed to me that God's curse was in her stare." "You've caught the terror, Nicholas, like so many just now in Venice.
Why, to-day I've not met a man or woman who is not afraid of something, they know not what--save the Englishman and his death's-head.

I think 'tis the unwholesome air of this strange season, and all the signs and omens we hear of on every side that conjure vapours to the brain." "Yes, I've the terror," said Nicholas with something like a groan.
"Every sin I ever did--and most of them have been for you, lord--seems to haunt my sleep.

Yes, and to walk with me when I wake, preaching woe at me with fiery tongues that repentance or absolution cannot quench or still." "Yet, Nicholas, I think that you must add one more to their count, or a share of it, which should weigh light among so many.

Either I or de Cressi must pack for our last journey, and if we meet face to face to-morrow, how know I that it will be de Cressi?
Better far that we should not meet." "Lord, lord, you cannot fly! He is King Edward's champion, so proclaimed before all whose names are written in the Golden Book of Venice.

He would cry your shame in every Court, and so would they.