"Enough.
I could be merry now: Hubert, I love thee;
Well, I'll not say what I intend for thee:
Remember."
KING JOHN.
Jacopo was deeply practised in the windings of Venetian deceit. He knew
how unceasingly the eyes of the Councils, through their agents, were on
the movements of those in whom they took an interest, and he was far
from feeling all the advantage circumstances had seemingly thrown in his
way. Annina was certainly in his power, and it was not possible that she
had yet communicated the intelligence, derived from Gelsomina, to any of
her employers. But a gesture, a look in passing the prison-gates, the
appearance of duresse, or an exclamation, might give the alarm to some
one of the thousand spies of the police. The disposal of Annina's person
in some place of safety, therefore, became the first and the most
material act. To return to the palace of Don Camillo, would be to go
into the midst of the hirelings of the Senate; and although the
Neapolitan, relying on his rank and influence, had preferred this step,
when little importance was attached to the detention of the girl, and
when all she knew had been revealed, the case was altered, now that she
might become the connecting link in the information necessary to enable
the officers to find the fugitives.
The gondola moved on. Palace after palace was passed, and the impatient
Annina thrust her head from a window to note its progress. They came
among the shipping of the port, and her uneasiness sensibly increased.
Making? pretext similar to that of Gelsomina, the wine-seller's daughter
quitted the pavilion, to steal to the side of the gondolier.
"I would be landed quickly at the water-gate of the Doge's palace," she
said, slipping a piece of silver into the hand of the boatman.
"You shall be served, Bella Donna. But--Diamine! I marvel that a girl of
thy wit should not scent the treasures in yonder felucca!"
"Dost thou mean the Sorrentine?"
"What other padrone brings as well flavored liquors within the Lido!
Quiet thy impatience to land, daughter of honest old Maso, and traffic
with the padrone, for the comfort of us of the canals."
"How! Thou knowest me, then?"
"To be the pretty wine-seller of the Lido. Corpo di Bacco! Thou art as
well known as the sea-wall itself to us gondoliers."
"Why art thou masked? Thou canst not be Luigi!"
"It is little matter whether I am called Luigi, or Enrico, or Giorgio; I
am thy customer, and honor the shortest hair of thy eyebrows. Thou
knowest, Annina, that the young patricians have their frolics, and they
swear us gondoliers to keep secret till all danger of detection is over;
were any impertinent eyes following me, I might be questioned as to the
manner of having passed the earlier hours."
"Methinks it would be better to have given thee gold, and to have sent
thee at once to thy home."
"To be followed like a denounced Hebrew to my door. When I have
confounded my boat with a thousand others it will be time to uncover.
Wilt thou to the Bella Sorrentina?"
"Nay, 'tis not necessary to ask, since thou takest the direction of
thine own will?"
The gondolier laughed and nodded his head, as if he would give his
companion to understand that he was master of her secret wishes. Annina
was hesitating in what manner she should make him change his purpose,
when the gondola touched the felucca's side.
"We will go up and speak to the padrone," whispered Jacopo.
"It is of no avail; he is without liquors."
"Trust him not; I know the man and his pretences,"
"Thou forgettest my cousin."
"She is an innocent and unsuspecting child."
Jacopo lifted Annina, as he spoke, on the deck of the Bella Sorrentina,
in a manner between gallantry and force, and leaped after her. Without
pausing, or suffering her to rally her thoughts, he led her to the cabin
stairs, which she descended, wondering at his conduct, but determined
not to betray her own secret wrongs on the customs to a stranger.
Stefano Milano was asleep in a sail on deck. A touch aroused him, and a
sign gave him to understand that the imaginary Roderigo stood before
him.
"A thousand pardons, Signore," said the gaping mariner; "is the freight
come?"
"In part only. I have brought thee a certain Annina Torti, the daughter
of old Tommaso Torti, a wine-seller of the Lido."
"Santa Madre! does the Senate think it necessary to send one like her
from the city in secret?"
"It does; and it lays great stress on her detention. I have come hither
with her, without suspicion of my object, and she has been prevailed on
to enter thy cabin, under a pretence of some secret dealings in wines.
According to our former understanding, it will be thy business to make
sure of her presence."
"That is easily done," returned Stefano, stepping forward and closing
the cabin-door, which he secured by a bolt.
"She is alone, now, with the image of our Lady, and a better occasion
to repeat her aves cannot offer."
"This is well, if thou canst keep her so. It is now time to lift thy
anchors, and to go beyond the tiers of the vessels with the felucca."
"Signore, there wants but five minutes for that duty, since we are
ready."
"Then perform it, in all speed, for much depends on the management of
this delicate duty. I will be with thee anon. Harkee, Master Stefano;
take heed of thy prisoner, for the Senate makes great account of her
security."
The Calabrian made such a gesture, as one initiated uses, when he would
express a confidence in his own shrewdness. While the pretended Roderigo
re-entered his gondola, Stefano began to awaken his people. As the
gondola entered the canal of San Marco, the sails of the felucca fell,
and the low Calabrian vessel stole along the tiers towards the clear
water beyond.
The boat quickly touched the steps of the water-gate of the palace.
Gelsomina entered the arch, and glided up the Giant's Stairway, the
route by which she had quitted the palace. The halberdier was the same
that watched as she went out. He spoke to her, in gallantry, but offered
no impediment to her entrance.
"Haste, noble ladies, hasten for the love of the Holy Virgin!" exclaimed
Gelsomina, as she burst into the room in which Donna Violetta and her
companion awaited her appearance. "I have endangered your liberty by my
weakness, and there is not a moment to lose. Follow while you may, nor
stop to whisper even a prayer."
"Thou art hurried and breathless," returned Donna Florinda; "hast thou
seen the Duca di Sant' Agata?"
"Nay, question me not, but follow, noble dames." Gelsomina seized the
lamp, and casting a glance that appealed strongly to her visitors for
tacit compliance, she led the way into the corridors. It is scarcely
necessary to say that she was followed.
The prison was left in safety, the Bridge of Sighs was passed, for it
will be remembered that Gelsomina was still mistress of the keys, and
the party went swiftly by the great stairs of the palace into the open
gallery. No obstruction was offered to their progress, and they all
descended to the court, with the quiet demeanor of females who went out
on their ordinary affairs.
Jacopo awaited at the water-gate. In less than a minute he was driving
his gondola across the port, following the course of the felucca, whose
white sail was visible in the moonlight, now bellying in the breeze, and
now flapping as the mariners checked her speed. Gelsomina watched their
progress for a moment in breathless interest, and then she crossed the
bridge of the quay, and entered the prison by its public gate.
"Hast thou made sure of the old 'Maso's daughter?" demanded Jacopo, on
reaching the deck of the Bella Sorrentina again.
"She is like shifting ballast, Master Roderigo; first on one side of the
cabin, and then on the other; but you see the bolt is undrawn."
"'Tis well: here is more of thy freight; thou hast the proper passes for
the galley of the guard?"
"All is in excellent order, Signore; when was Stefano Milano out of rule
in a matter of haste? Diamine! let the breeze come, and though the
Senate should wish us back again, it might send all its sbirri after us
in vain."
"Excellent, Stefano! fill thy sails, then, for our masters watch your
movements, and set a value on your diligence."
While the Calabrian complied, Jacopo assisted the females to come up out
of the gondola. In a moment the heavy yards swung off, wing and wing,
and the bubbles that appeared to glance past the side of the Bella
Sorrentina, denoted her speed.
"Thou hast noble ladies in thy passengers," said Jacopo to the padrone,
when the latter was released from the active duties of getting his
vessel in motion; "and though policy requires that they should quit the
city for a time, thou wilt gain favor by consulting their pleasures."
"Doubt me not, Master Roderigo; but thou forgettest that I have not yet
received my sailing instructions; a felucca without a course is as badly
off as an owl in the sun."
"That in good time; there will come an officer of the Republic to settle
this matter with thee. I would not have these noble ladies know, that
one like Annina is to be their fellow-passenger, while they are near the
port; for they might complain of disrespect. Thou understandest,
Stefano?"
"Cospetto! am I a fool? a blunderer? if so, why does the Senate employ
me? the girl is out of hearing, and there let her stay. As long as the
noble dames are willing to breathe the night air, they shall have none
of her company."
"No fear of them. The dwellers of the land little relish the pent air of
thy cabin. Thou wilt go without the Lido, Stefano, and await my coming.
If thou should'st not see me before the hour of one, bear away for the
port of Ancona, where thou wilt get further tidings."
Stefano, who had often previously received his instructions from the
imaginary Roderigo, nodded assent, and they parted. It is scarcely
necessary to add, that the fugitives had been fully instructed in the
conduct they were to maintain.
The gondola of Jacopo never flew faster, than he now urged it towards
the land. In the constant passage of the boats, the movements of one
were not likely to be remarked; and he found, when he reached the quay
of the square, that his passing and repassing had not been observed. He
boldly unmasked and landed. It was near the hour when he had given Don
Camillo a rendezvous in the piazza, and he walked slowly up the smaller
square, towards the appointed place of meeting.
Jacopo, as has been seen in an earlier chapter, had a practice of
walking near the columns of granite in the first hours of the night. It
was the vulgar impression that he waited there for custom in his bloody
calling, as men of more innocent lives take their stands in places of
mark. When seen on his customary stand, he was avoided by all who were
chary of their character, or scrupulous of appearances.
The persecuted and yet singularly tolerated Bravo, was slowly pacing the
flags on his way to the appointed place, unwilling to anticipate the
moment, when a laquais thrust a paper into his hand, and disappeared as
fast as legs would carry him. It has been seen that Jacopo could not
read, for that was an age when men of his class were studiously kept in
ignorance. He turned to the first passenger who had the appearance of
being likely to satisfy his wishes, and desired him to do the office of
interpreter.
He had addressed an honest shop-keeper of a distant quarter. The man
took the scroll, and good-naturedly commenced reading its contents
aloud. "I am called away, and cannot meet thee, Jacopo!" At the name of
Jacopo, the tradesman dropped the paper and fled.
The Bravo walked slowly back again towards the quay, ruminating on the
awkward accident which had crossed his plans; his elbow was touched, and
a masker confronted him when he turned.
"Thou art Jacopo Frontoni?" said the stranger.
"None else."
"Thou hast a hand to serve an employer faithfully?"
"I keep my faith."
"'Tis well, thou wilt find a hundred sequins in this sack."
"Whose life is set against this gold?" asked Jacopo, in an under tone.
"Don Camillo Monforte."
"Don Camillo Monforte!"
"The same; dost thou know the rich noble!"
"You have well described him, Signore. He would pay his barber this for
letting blood."
"Do thy job thoroughly, and the price shall be doubled."
"I want the security of a name. I know you not, Signore."
The stranger looked cautiously around him, and raising his mask for an
instant, he showed the countenance of Giacomo Gradenigo.
"Is the pledge sufficient?"
"Signore, it is. When must this deed be done?"
"This night. Nay, this hour, even."
"Shall I strike a noble of his rank in his palace--in his very
pleasures?"
"Come hither, Jacopo, and thou shalt know more. Hast thou a mask?"
The Bravo signified his assent.
"Then keep thy face behind a cloud, for it is not in favor here, and
seek thy boat. I will join thee."
The young patrician, whose form was effectually concealed by his attire,
quitted his companion, with a view of rejoining him anew, where his
person should not be known. Jacopo forced his boat from among the crowd
at the quay, and having entered the open space between the tiers, he lay
on his oar, well knowing that he was watched, and that he would soon be
followed. His conjecture was right, for in a few moments a gondola
pulled swiftly to the side of his own, and two men in masks passed from
the strange boat into that of the Bravo, without speaking.
"To the Lido," said a voice, which Jacopo knew to be that of his new
employer.
He was obeyed, the boat of Giacomo Gradenigo following at a little
distance. When they were without the tiers, and consequently beyond the
danger of being overheard, the two passengers came out of the pavilion,
and made a sign to the Bravo to cease rowing.
"Thou wilt accept the service, Jacopo Frontoni?" demanded the profligate
heir of the old senator.
"Shall I strike the noble in his pleasures, Signore?"
"It is not necessary. We have found means to lure him from his palace,
and he is now in thy power, with no other hope than that which may come
from his single arm and courage. Wilt thou take the service?"
"Gladly, Signore--It is my humor to encounter the brave."
"Thou wilt be gratified. The Neapolitan has thwarted me in my--shall I
call it love, Hosea; or hast thou a better name?"
"Just Daniel! Signor Giacomo, you have no respect for reputations and
surety! I see no necessity for a home thrust, Master Jacopo; but a smart
wound, that may put matrimony out of the head of the Duca for a time at
least, and penitence into its place, would be better--"
"Strike to the heart!" interrupted Giacomo. "It is the certainty of thy
blow which has caused me to seek thee."
"This is usurious vengeance, Signor Giacomo," returned the less resolute
Jew. "'Twill be more than sufficient for our purposes, if we cause the
Neapolitan to keep house for a month."
"Send him to his grave. Harkee, Jacopo, a hundred for thy blow--a second
for insurance of its depth--a third if the body shall be buried in the
Orfano, so that the water will never give back the secret."
"If the two first must be performed, the last will be prudent caution,"
muttered the Jew, who was a wary villain, and who greatly preferred such
secondary expedients as might lighten the load on his conscience. "You
will not trust, young Signore, to a smart wound?"
"Not a sequin. 'Twill be heating the fancy of the girl with hopes and
pity. Dost thou accept the terms, Jacopo?"
"I do."
"Then row to the Lido. Among the graves of Hosea's people--why dost thou
pull at my skirts, Jew! would'st thou hope to deceive a man of this
character with a flimsy lie--among the graves of Hosea's people thou
wilt meet Don Camillo within the hour. He is deluded by a pretended
letter from the lady of our common pursuit, and will be alone, in the
hopes of flight; I trust to thee to hasten the latter, so far as the
Neapolitan is concerned. Dost take my meaning?"
"Signore, it is plain."
"'Tis enough. Thou knowest me, and can take the steps necessary for thy
reward as thou shalt serve me. Hosea, our affair is ended."
Giacomo Gradenigo made a sign for his gondola to approach, and dropping
a sack which contained the retainer in this bloody business, he passed
into it with the indifference of one who had been accustomed to consider
such means of attaining his object lawful. Not so Hosea: he was a rogue
rather than a villain. The preservation of his money, with the
temptation of a large sum which had been promised him by both father and
son in the event of the latter's success with Violetta, were
irresistible temptations to one who had lived contemned by those around
him, and he found his solace for the ruthless attempt in the acquisition
of those means of enjoyment which are sought equally by Christian and
Jew. Still his blood curdled at the extremity to which Giacomo would
push the affair, and he lingered to utter a parting word to the Bravo.
"Thou art said to carry a sure stiletto, honest Jacopo," he whispered.
"A hand of thy practice must know how to maim as well as to slay.
Strike the Neapolitan smartly, but spare his life. Even the bearer of a
public dagger like thine may not fare the worse, at the coming of
Shiloh, for having been tender of his strength on occasion."
"Thou forgettest the gold, Hosea!"
"Father Abraham! what a memory am I getting in my years! Thou sayest
truth, mindful Jacopo; the gold shall be forthcoming in any
event--always provided that the affair is so managed as to leave my
young friend a successful adventurer with the heiress."
Jacopo made an impatient gesture, for at that moment he saw a gondolier
pulling rapidly towards a private part of the Lido. The Hebrew joined
his companion, and the boat of the Bravo darted ahead. It was not long
ere it lay on the strand of the Lido. The steps of Jacopo were rapid, as
he moved towards those proscribed graves among which he had made his
confession to the very man he was now sent to slay.
"Art thou sent to meet me?" demanded one who started from behind a
rising in the sands, but who took the precaution to bare his rapier as
he appeared.
"Signor Duca, I am," returned the Bravo, unmasking.
"Jacopo! This is even better than I had hoped. Hast thou tidings from my
bride?"
"Follow, Don Camillo, and you shall quickly meet her."
Words were unnecessary to persuade, when there was such a promise. They
were both in the gondola of Jacopo, and on their way to one of the
passages through the Lido which conducts to the gulf, before the Bravo
commenced his explanation. This, however, was quickly made, not
forgetting the design of Giacomo Gradenigo on the life of his auditor.
The felucca, which had been previously provided with the necessary pass
by the agents of the police itself, had quitted the port under easy sail
by the very inlet through which the gondola made its way into the
Adriatic. The water was smooth, the breeze fresh from the land, and in
short all things were favorable to the fugitives. Donna Violetta and her
governess were leaning against a mast, watching with impatient eyes the
distant domes and the midnight beauty of Venice. Occasionally strains of
music came to their ears from the canals, and then a touch of natural
melancholy crossed the feelings of the former as she feared they might
be the last sounds of that nature she should ever hear from her native
town. But unalloyed pleasure drove every regret from her mind when Don
Camillo leaped from the gondola and folded her in triumph to his heart.
There was little difficulty in persuading Stefano Milano to abandon for
ever the service of the Senate for that of his feudal lord. The promises
and commands of the latter were sufficient of themselves to reconcile
him to the change, and all were convinced there was no time to lose. The
felucca soon spread her canvas to the wind and slid away from the beach.
Jacopo permitted his gondola to be towed a league to sea before he
prepared to re-enter it.
"You will steer for Ancona, Signor Don Camillo," said the Bravo, leaning
on the felucca's side, still unwilling to depart, "and throw yourself at
once under the protection of the Cardinal Secretary. If Stefano keep the
sea he may chance to meet the galleys of the Senate."
"Distrust us not--but thou, my excellent Jacopo--what wilt thou become
in their hands?"
"Fear not for me, Signore. God disposes of all as he sees fit. I have
told your eccellenza that I cannot yet quit Venice. If fortune favor me,
I may still see your stout castle of Sant' Agata."
"And none will be more welcome within its secure walls; I have much fear
for thee, Jacopo!"
"Signore, think not of it. I am used to danger--and to misery--and to
hopelessness. I have known a pleasure this night, in witnessing the
happiness of two young hearts, that God, in his anger, has long denied
me. Lady, the Saints keep you, and God, who is above all, shield you
from harm!"
He kissed the hand of Donna Violetta, who, half ignorant still of his
services, listened to his words in wonder.
"Don Camillo Monforte," he continued, "distrust Venice to your dying
day. Let no promises--no hopes--no desire of increasing your honors or
your riches, ever tempt you to put yourself in her power. None know the
falsehood of the state better than I, and with my parting words I warn
you to be wary!"
"Thou speakest as if we were to meet no more, worthy Jacopo!"
The Bravo turned, and the action brought his features to the moon. There
was a melancholy smile, in which deep satisfaction at the success of the
lovers was mingled with serious forebodings for himself.
"We are certain only of the past," he said in a low voice.
Touching the hand of Don Camillo, he kissed his own and leaped hastily
into his gondola. The fast was thrown loose, and the felucca glided
away, leaving this extraordinary being alone on the waters. The
Neapolitan ran to the taffrail, and the last he saw of Jacopo, the
Bravo, was rowing leisurely back towards that scene of violence and
deception from which he himself was so glad to have escaped.