The little Zuane had eaten his supper of _polenta_ and, in the painted
cradle which his grandfather Girolamo had bought for him from under the
arcades of the Piazetta, lay at last asleep, consigned to the care of
all those saints and guardian angels who make the little ones their
charge, and who smiled down upon him from the golden aureoles and clouds
of rose and blue on the cradle-roof while, slowly balancing, it charmed
him into dreams.
And now, at her window, Marina had the night and the stars to herself,
over the still lagoon and down in its mirroring depths.
It was a sad little tale soon told, this tragedy of Toinetta which had
seemed so great to the dwellers in that home three years ago. A pretty,
wilful child of fifteen, who had grown up impatient of all needful home
restraint, finding rebellion easier because there was no mother to
control her--with a love of motion, color, sunshine, sound, and laughter
that made her an Ariel of Venice, as full of frolic as a kitten and as
irresponsible, choosing in her latest caprice one from the many lovers
who were ready for the wooing with the seriousness with which she would
have chosen a partner for a festa, since to-morrow, if something else
seemed better, this lover also could be changed. But the opposition of
the grave father and sister made their consent the better worth winning,
and set the youthful Gabriele in a more attractive light. So the
betrothal had been duly made in the presence of the numerous circle of
friends and relatives who stand as witnesses at a betrothal feast in
this City of the Sea, and who were as ready with their smiles and their
felicitations for any event in the home life of the quarter, as they
would be withering in their criticism should there be any failure of
complete fulfilment of those traditional observances which are
imperative in Venice. Thus the boy and girl were _spoza_ and _novizio_,
waiting the fuller bond in all that pretty interchange of tokens so
faithfully prescribed in Venetian circles of every degree; but the
period had been one of quarrels and forgivenesses, of fallings away from
and returns to favor, as might have been expected from two capricious,
foolish children.
To make part of the pretty pageant of the "Brides of Venice," which took
place on Lady Day in San Pietro in Castello, the maidens, all in white
with floating hair, their dower-boxes fastened by ribbons from their
shoulders, had seemed to Toinetta, as she stood each year an onlooker in
the admiring crowd, a happiness devoutly to be desired. The custom was a
survival of an earlier time, fast losing favor with the better classes
of the people; but to Toinetta its dramatic possibilities held a greater
fascination than the more sober ceremonial of the usual wedding service,
and, all persuasion to the contrary, when the procession gathered in
San Pietro in Castello, Toinetta, with flushed cheeks and sparkling
eyes, was one of the twelve maidens. Marina looked on with offended
eyes; her father consenting, yet only half-convinced, atoning for this
lessening of the family dignity by the elegance of the feast he had
provided, and all permitted bravery in the gondolas that were waiting to
take them thence.
The ups and downs of her childish courtship had culminated in more tears
and jealousies than usual on the previous day, but these were secrets
between the lovers, and quite unguessed by father or sister. But when
the wedding oration had been preached over those twelve bridal pairs,
and the wedding benediction had been granted, it was _not_ Gabriele, the
boyish betrothed of Toinetta, who brought the blushing bride, partly in
triumph and partly in pique, to her father's side, but Piero Salin, the
handsomest gondolier on the lagoons, the most daring and dreaded foe of
all the established traghetti. It had been impossible for the spectators
from the body of the church to follow closely the movements of the
twelve white-robed maidens with their attendant swains while the
ceremony was progressing in the dim recesses of the choir, and the
surprise and dishonor this unexpected _dénouement_ brought upon the home
were nothing to the unhappiness in store for the childish bride, whose
latest and wildest freak brought neither wisdom for self-discipline nor
power to endure that relentless criticism which ceased only when a
little one lay in the place of the child-mother, who had been too weak
to cope with the worries of the year that had followed upon that
unhappy day in San Pietro.
The jilted Gabriele had accepted the situation with a parade of
philosophical scorn which removed him beyond the pale of the sympathy
Marina would have offered him; and Marina--whose exquisite sense of
truth, decorum, and duty had been outraged to a degree beyond Toinetta's
comprehension--forgot it all in the overwhelming compassion with which
she took her little sister in her arms and tried to help her live her
difficult life; she realized, as only a large nature could, that love
was the only hope for this emergency, and, feeding on her measureless
compassion, love, the diviner faculty, grew to be a power.
Slowly and very dimly she had helped the young wife to some vague
comprehension of the duties she had so rashly assumed. Hitherto, for
Toinetta, there had been no difficulties, and now there were so many she
was frightened and did not understand; now, when Piero scolded at her
tears or temper she could not run away nor change him for a pleasanter
companion, and she knew no other way to manage such a difficulty; and
there was no pleasure in the Piazza because of that eternal critica.
There was triumph still in a _canalazzo_, for Piero was so handsome and
so strong, and in the gondola, on the Canal Grande, one could not hear
the talking--besides, Venice was not Murano; but in the home the old
friends came no more, and life was very sad--quite other than it used to
be!
Even her father, who traced the disgrace that had come upon his house to
his over-indulgence, was now proportionately severe, and to his stern
sense of honor the lawless son-in-law was a most unwelcome guest.
Through that slow year of Toinetta's life Marina was the veritable angel
in the house, not conscious of any self-sacrifice, but only of living
intensely, making the living under the same roof possible for these two
strong men who looked at life from such different standpoints, soothing
the wounded pride of her father by her perfect sympathy while striving
to rouse Piero to nobler ideals.
And now that it was all over--was it all over?--there lay the poor
little Zuane; and Piero, over the water at his traghetto, was a great
care. But he should do his best yet for the people!
A deep voice with a ring of wistfulness came through the darkness:
"Doth he not sleep yet, the little Zuane? The evening hath been long,
and I have somewhat to show thee."
"I come, my father," she answered very tenderly, as she followed him
through the narrow, dark corridor, into a large chamber which served as
a private office, but where the father and daughter often sat alone in
the evening; for here Girolamo kept many designs and papers relating to
his work, and they often discussed his plans together.
He unlocked an old carved cabinet and brought out a roll of parchments,
spreading them upon the table and explaining: "I could not leave them
while I went to call thee, for it is an order from the Senate--thou
see'st the seal--and a copy of the letter of the Ambassador of the
Republic to the Levant, with this folded therein--truly a curious scheme
of color, but very rich, and the lines are somewhat uneven. What
thinkest thou of the design?"
"The outline is good," she answered, after a careful scrutiny, for she
had been trained in copying his best designs. This was a pattern
furnished by the grand vizier of the sultan for a mosque lamp of a
peculiar shape, wrought over with verses from the Koran, in various
colored enamels. "The outline is well; but the colors--mayst thou not
change this yellow? there is too much of it."
"Nay, for the colors have a meaning; methinks this yellow is their
sacred color. But the texts are fine; the broken lines of the characters
have a charm, and the scrolls relieve the surface, making semblance of
shadow. Yet I will make thee a prettier one for thine own chamber, with
some thought of thy choosing."
She looked up at him with shining eyes; their trouble, combated and
borne together, had brought them very near to one another.
"I have often wished for a lamp with the colors soft like moonlight; and
the design shall be of thine own hand, and the verse upon it shall be an
ave, and in it there shall be always a light. It shall be a prayer for
the little one!" she said in quick response. "The Senate wished thee to
make a lamp of this design? I have seen none like it."
"Nay, not one; there will be nine hundred, for the decoration of a
mosque," and Girolamo's eyes sparkled with triumph. "It is not that it
is difficult," he explained, for Marina's eyes wandered from her
father's face to the design with some astonishment. "It is even simple
for us. But when the Levant sends to Venice for these sacred lamps for
her own temples it is her acknowledgment that we have surpassed our
teachers. It is a glory for us!"
"Father, I thought the glass of Venice was even all our own!" Marina
exclaimed in a tone of disappointment. "I knew not that our art had come
from the East to us. Some say that it was born here."
"Ay, some; but thou shouldst know the story of thy Venice better, my
daughter," Girolamo answered gravely, for to him every detail connected
with his art was of vital import. "There may be some who say this, but
not thou. In the time of Orseolo the mosaics were brought from the
Levant for our old San Marco. Thus came the knowledge to us in those
early days. But now there is no longer any country that shares it
equally with Venice, for elsewhere they know not the art in its
fineness. These, when they are finished, shall be sent as a gift from
the Republic; it is so written in this order from the Senate."
"When came it to thee?"
"To-day, with much ceremony, it was delivered into mine own hand by one
of the Secretaries of the Ten. For, see'st thou, Marina, it is a mark of
rare favor that they have trusted this parchment with me, and have not
brought me into their presence to make copy of it in the palace. If thou
couldst lend me thy deft fingers----"
"Surely," she answered, smiling up at him.
He was standing over her with one hand on her shoulder; he rested the
other lightly on her hair, looking down into her eyes for a moment with
a caress still and tender, after his own grave fashion. "It will be
safer so," he said, folding the parchment and the letters carefully and
locking them away in his cabinet. "And to-morrow, Marina--for they have
granted me but one day."
The chamber in which they sat was wainscoted with heavy carved woodwork
stained black, and every panel was a drawer with a curiously wrought
lock, containing some design or some order for the house of Magagnati;
and these archives were precious not only for the stabilimento and
Girolamo the master, but they would be treasured by the Republic as
state papers, representing the highest attainment in this exquisite
Venetian industry, which the Government held in such esteem that for a
century past one of the chiefs of the Council of Ten had been appointed
as inspector and supervisor of the manufactories. For further security
the Senate had declared severest penalties against any betrayal of the
secrets of the trade--a form of protection not quite needless, since the
Ambassador of His Most Christian Majesty had formed a species of secret
police with no other object than to bribe the glass-makers and extract
from them the lucrative secret which formed no part of the courtesies
that were interchanged between France and the Republic.
The large, low table, black and polished like teak-wood, upon which they
had been examining the vizier's design, was lighted by a lamp of wrought
iron swinging low by fanciful chains from the high ceiling, making a
centre of dense yellow flame from which the shadows rayed off into the
gloom of the farther portions of the room, and a charming picture of
father and daughter was outlined against the vague darkness. Another
lamp, fixed against a plate of burnished brass, cast a reflection that
was almost brilliant upon the glory of this chamber--a high, central
cabinet of the same dark, carved framework, with a back of those
wonderful mirror plates so recently brought to perfection by another
stabilimento of which the good Girolamo was almost jealous, although
against this luminous background the exquisite fabrications of the house
of Magagnati reflected their wonderful shapes and colors in increased
beauty.
Not yet had any plates of clear glass fine enough for the display of
such a cabinet been realized, though it sometimes seemed to Girolamo
that such a time was very near; but the solid doors of wood, with
ponderous brass locks and hinges, stood open, and the inner silk curtain
which protected these treasures from dust was always drawn aside by
Marina's own hand when these evening lamps were lighted; they were so
beautiful to see, if they but raised their eyes; the very consciousness
of their gleaming was sometimes an inspiration to Girolamo, and at this
hour they were quite safe, for the working day was over, and no one
entered this sanctum save by invitation.
Girolamo Magagnati prided himself on being a Venetian of the people, and
it was true that no member of his family had ever sat in the Consiglio;
but in few of the patrician homes of Venice could more of what was then
counted among the comforts of life have been found than in this less
sumptuous house of Murano, while its luxuries were all such as centered
about his art. He was one of the magnates of his island, for his
furnaces were among the most famous of Murano, and to him belonged
secrets of the craft in his special field to which no others had yet
attained, while in a degree that would scarcely have been esteemed by
the merchant princes of Venice, who sat in the Consiglio, they had
brought him wealth and repute. But to him, whose heart was in his work,
it was power and glory that sufficed. No stranger whom it was desired to
honor came to Venice but was conducted, with a ceremony that was
flattering, while it was also a due precaution against too curious
questioning, through the show-rooms of the factories of Murano; and
often in this chamber had gathered a group of men whom the world called
great, led by that special Chief of the Ten who was then in power at
Murano, to see the treasures of this cabinet of which Girolamo was
justly proud.
This first bit of the wonderful coloring which glowed and flashed when
the light shot through it, as if some living fire were caught in its
heart; or that curious, tortured shape, with its dragon-eyes of jewels,
and its tongue forever thrusting at you some secret which it almost
utters, yet withholds; this fragment of tenderest opalescence which is
of no color, yet blending all, as if a shower of petals were blown
across a rainbow in spring; that one--frosted in silver and gold--pink,
with the yellow sunshine in its core; here the aquamarine, lucent as
Venice's own sea! And here, throned in regal state, in its quaint case
of faded azure velvet, is that very masterpiece of the glass-workers of
Murano which was carried in the first solemn procession of all the arts
at a Doge's triumph in the thirteenth century. Its very possession was a
patent of nobility in Girolamo's reverent esteem; and the most gracious
letter of the Senate, conferring upon this piece of glass the
distinction of first mention among all that were shown upon that day of
triumph, is here also--a yellowed parchment, carefully inclosed in the
little morocco case, securely screwed to the shelf beneath, and Marina
had been present when it was opened for some rare visitor. It was a
relic of those earlier days when there were no furnaces in Murano,
though many of the finest workers came from this island and belonged to
the corporation of the workers on Rialto, and it was almost a
prehistoric record of greatness.
Marina had left the table and gone to the cabinet; her father followed
her. "This I would show thee," he said, calling her attention to a
whimsical shape, blown and twisted almost into foam. "This Lorenzo Stino
brought me only yesterday; he is full of genius; I think none hath a
quicker hand, nor a more inventive faculty. I have watched him in his
working." He scanned her eagerly as he spoke.
"Yes, it is fanciful--wonderful," she added to please him, but without
warmth, while her eyes wandered over the shelves. "Oh, father, here are
some of the very mosaics that were made for San Marco; thou hast
forgotten!"
She lifted eagerly a small opaque basin of turquoise blue and held it
toward him; it contained a few bits of gold and silver enamel, the
earliest that had been made in Venice, bearing their ancient date.
"Thou askest more of Venice than I," he said, well pleased with her
enthusiasm; "but have a care lest they say I have not taught thee well,
or that I do not know my art, or that I claim too much. At the time of
the burning of San Marco these Mosaics for the restoration were from the
stabilimenti of the Republic on Rialto--so early it came to us, this
glorious art. And it was one Piero, a founder of our house, though the
name was other than Magagnati, who was the master in that restoration.
But the first mosaics in that old San Marco--ay, and the workmen," he
added with a conscious effort, so much would he have liked to claim the
invention for Venice, "came hither from the East. Thou shouldst know the
history of our art; it is the story of thine ancestry and the nobility
of thy house. Thou hast no other."
"I have thee, my father!"