By this time Dame Polo was beginning to revive, and the two men were somewhat reassured as to the Tartar's intentions. When he had entered he had looked as if he meant to murder them all, but it was now evident from his manner that he wished to produce a pleasant impression. He drew the peacock towards him, and at once took all the best pieces that were left on the dish, using his fingers to save trouble. Giustina watched him without turning her head, and judged that, after all, he had only meant to show his admiration for her beauty when he had leered so horribly. She was in reality the least timid of all the party, though she had shrieked so loudly, and she remembered a fairy story about a frightful monster that had loved a beautiful princess. She was already pondering on the means of making a similar conquest. 'Are we to understand,' asked Marin Cornèr, politely, but in a shaky tone, 'that you come from Messer Carlo Zeno?' Tocktamish grunted assent, for his mouth was full, and he nodded emphatically. 'Messer Carlo Zeno is in need of a large sum of money without delay,' he said, when he was able to speak again. Sebastian Polo looked at Marin Cornèr significantly; and Marin Cornèr looked at Sebastian Polo. The fat lady pricked her ears, figuratively speaking, for indeed they were much too deeply embedded in their exuberant surroundings of cheek and jowl to suggest that they could ever prick at all. The Tartar crammed his mouth full again, and his great beard wagged with his jaws in the inevitable silence that followed. In her heart Giustina compared him to a ravenous lion, but her father thought he resembled a hungry hyena. Finding that his throat was not cut yet, and learning that there was to be a question of money, Marin Cornèr felt that the colour was returning to his nose and the warmth to his heart. 'Why does Messer Carlo not come home himself and get the money he needs?' he asked. By this time Omobono had recovered from his fright enough to creep into the room behind Tocktamish. He was already making anxious gestures to the two Venetian gentlemen to enjoin caution. The Tartar drank again before he answered the question. 'He happened to be so busy that he preferred to send me to get the money for him,' said the soldier. 'You see we are old friends. We fought together in Greece.' Then Omobono's voice was heard, quavering with anxiety. 'There is no money in the house!' he cried, winking violently at Polo and Cornèr. 'There is not a penny, I swear! There were large payments to make yesterday.' The poor little secretary was so anxious to be heard that he had come within arm's length of the Tartar, though behind him. Tocktamish turned his big head, and put out his hand unexpectedly, and Omobono felt himself caught and whirled round like a child till he was close to the table and face to face with the tipsy giant. He was sure that he felt his liver shrivelling up inside him with sheer fright.