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while Balbi, over a period of time, bored a hole with the spike in the ceiling of his own cell, climbed across, and in due course produced a similar hole in my ceiling."
    The night of the escape came. Based on observations of the jailers’ schedules as well as the Inquisitori’s chamber sessions, Jacques knew he and Balbi had nineteen hours to complete their flight. The pair lifted themselves up through Jacques’ ceiling, knowing that should the spy cry out, there would be no one in the Leads—at this handpicked hour—to hear.
    “Prying up the wood and the lead plates of the palace attic,” continued Jacques, “I discovered a thick fog shrouding the sloping roof and much too long a drop to the canal. Balbi and I returned to my cell and spent hours cutting up sheets, coverlets, and bedding that would act as rope.
    “Returning to the roof, we were immediately struck by a brilliant crescent moon, so bright that our shadows might reveal us to anyone on the Piazza San Marco. For safety’s sake, we waited another three hours until the moon disappeared.
    “After we struggled back onto the roof, I exhausted precious time in exploration but found no way down. As a last resort, we decided that we must slip back inside the palace where it was not a prison, then complete our escape when the building opened in the morning.
    “Fanatically determined, I pried open the grate over a dormer window, broke the glass, then with the aid of a repair ladder I’d found on the roof, made preparations to descend into the room below. Before I could do this, I lost my footing on the slick lead sheathing and slipped to the edge of the parapet as far as my chest. The nearly fatal mistake required great courage to correct, but awhile later Balbi and I lowered ourselves to the floor of the chamber below.
    “I slept for three hours until the blathering Balbi awakened me. Overcoming additional hardships, he and I broke a small lock on an exit door, passed through the empty palace, and in a hastily improvised disguise, blustered past a guard and out a door at six that morning. We made our escape by gondola.
    “Free at last, I admit I broke down, sobs racking my worn-out body.
    “I’d suffered fifteen months in Piombi prison—and was now essentially exiled from Venice.”
    “And you said,” Dominique cooed with tenderness, “for your escape you just donned a hat and walked out the front door. Nothing to it.”
     

- 9 -
    TWO DAYS PASSED. On the third morning, a strand of sunlight, diaphanous and delicate, pushed through the open window; soon the room shimmered with dawn’s glow. On the window’s ledge perched a pair of wind swifts, chirping mischievously, tallying perhaps the lovers’ sighs that issued from within.
    Dominique’s feelings swirled like parti-colored ribbons round a maypole. Her flesh felt scorched by Jacques’ naked body atop hers. Their lips touched, kissed, and for a great while held them fast.
    Soon Jacques’ soft mouth began to glide across her cheek, warming her face wherever it settled. Slowly, he brushed her ear, and she succumbed to the delight that flooded her. He proceeded silently, placing kiss after kiss on her neck; she tingled with need.
    He asked her to cover her breast with her hand, then coaxed his tongue between each finger. She gasped at the unexpected pleasure and moaned into the pillow beside her while he continued his exquisite teasing. Shifting Dominique’s hand, Jacques sucked at her nipple, sending a rush of chills throughout her body.
    Dominique raised her head. Her eyes held his. She felt frozen, suspended, as though one further touch might bring unbearable ecstasy.
    Jacques stopped and let go her body. He rested himself on her shoulder, sniffing her sweet skin.
    Her senses reeled. She tugged his hair with both hands, but he did not rouse. She pulled at his ears, lifting his mouth to hers for one searing kiss before she pressed him downward.
    He offered little resistance as he slid his face