'Then we are surrounded,' a low voice said cautiously from the gondola's dark cabin. 'Where did you hear this?'
'From traders that have business in the interior, sir. And you may believe they are—' 'That will be all, Renzi.' 'Sir—'
'We leave. Now.' There was decision and relief in the officer's voice. 'Sir Alastair has obviously been taken. We must depart, our duty done. Mr Amati, do you please engage passage for the four of us out of Venice immediately? You men muster abreast the Rialto bridge in one hour with your dunnage.'
This time Renzi stayed, fetching his small sea-bag from the loft and waiting in the shadows with them. 'May I know where you've been, Nicholas?' Kydd said gravely.
'No.' Renzi's eyes were stony and fixed on the opposite side of the Grand Canal.
'I'd take it kindly should ye tell me more o' this grand place, m' friend.'
There was no response from Renzi. Then his eyes flicked to Kydd and away again. 'Later,' he muttered.
Kydd brooded. Something was seriously troubling his friend. They should be in no real danger — the French wouldn't dare to interfere in such a noble city so all they had to do was leave. But they would run from Venice and return to Gibraltar without the glory of a daring rescue . . . He tried to bring to mind Emily's face, but it was shadowed, overlain by the incredible events and sights he'd so recently witnessed. His wandering thoughts were interrupted — a piece of paper had been passed to Renzi.
'This is from L'tenant Griffith. We are to report to this warehouse at once.' He led the way towards the waterfront. Just before they emerged on to the quay area they stopped. Renzi stepped forward and banged on the decrepit door of a small warehouse. It opened cautiously and they were pulled inside.
As their eyes grew used to the dark, they saw Dandolo, pacing nervously up and down. There were two others, sitting on the floor, heads down, exhausted. Kydd's nose tickled at the pungent scent of the warehouse, which lay heavy on the air — ginger, spices, tobacco.
'Where iss your officer?' Dandolo pressed. As if in answer, there was a rattling at the door and Griffith stepped in, breathless.
'Sir Alastair?'
'The same,' whispered one of the men on the floor. 'Good God! Sir, you must be — but we have you in time.'
Dandolo intervened. 'We agreed . .. ?'
'Indeed.' Griffith fumbled in his coat, and withdrew a cloth-wrapped cylinder. He handed it to Dandolo. It was broken open expertly and a spill of dull gold coins filled Dandolo's hand. He grinned with satisfaction. 'We are leaving Venice. Do you wish to claim the protection of His Majesty also?'
Dandolo's eyes creased. 'No. I have my plans.'
'Is there a way to inform Mr Amati where we are?' Griffith asked.
Dandolo paused. 'If that iss what you wan'.'
Griffith crossed to Leith. 'Sir, Lieutenant Griffith, third of Bacchante frigate, and three seamen. We are sent to remove you from Venice.'
'Thank you,' Leith said equably, 'and this is my man. He has stayed with me since the other side of the Alps.
What is the situation, if you please?' Before Griffith could answer, Leith added, 'Be aware that the French are advancing with celerity and all the determination of a strong sea tide. There is no time to be lost, sir.'
'Our evacuation is in hand as we speak, sir. Our agent is procuring passage for us by any means, and I expect him back by the hour.'
'Very good. I will not speak of food and drink - these can wait until we are on board. Now, if you please, be so good as to allow us a period of sleep. We are sorely tried.'
'Sir.'
There was nothing to do except wait for Amati in decorous silence. Renzi lay on a sack and closed his eyes, but Kydd could not rest. It was expecting a lot of the agent to delay his own hopes of safety for their sake, however high his expected reward. Perhaps he had already slipped away, leaving them to wait in vain for their passage out.
It seemed hours, but Amati returned. Kydd felt for the little man as he slipped in noiselessly. 'I can no' find a passage,' he said defiantly.
'What?' Griffith jumped to his feet.
'My dear sir, the man returned, did he not?' Leith said wearily. 'Pray tell us, what is the difficulty?' he asked Amati.
'The French, they take Chioggia, Malamocco. Now they ha' control all gate to th' lagoon. No ship can lif. None.' He looked up wearily. 'No one wan' to try.'
Griffith stared at Amati. 'So, we have a problem.'
No one spoke.
Renzi's expression eased to a half-smile, and in the breathless hush he said, 'Sir, you are mindful that we are English —
'Of course I do — you try my patience, Renzi!'
'- and therefore we shall probably be yielded up by the Venetians as a placating move to the French—'
'Enough! Hold your tongue, you impertinent rascal!'
'—who will without doubt understand us to be here as spies, to be executed perhaps?'