He had already made his skiff fast to the step.
"Your business here ?" asked a muffled voice out of the dark.
Zorzi felt that a number of persons were in the hall immediately behind the speaker.
"For the Lord Jacopo Contarini," he answered.

"I have a message and a token to deliver." "From whom ?" "I will tell that to his lordship," replied Zorzi.
"I am Contarini," replied the voice, and the speaker felt for Zorzi's face in the darkness, and brought it near his ear.
"From Angelo," whispered Zorzi, so softly that Contarini only heard the last word.
The door was now shut as noiselessly as before, but not by Contarini himself.

He still kept his hold on Zorzi's arm.
"The token," he whispered impatiently.
Zorzi pulled the little leathern bag out of his doublet, slipped the string over his head and thrust the token into Contarini's hand.

The latter uttered a low exclamation of surprise.
"What is this ?" he asked.
"The token," answered Zorzi.
He had scarcely spoken when he felt Contarini's arms round him, holding him fast.

He was wise enough to make no attempt to escape from them.
"Friends," said Contarini quickly, "the man who just came in is a spy.