THE BRAVO’S BRIDE.
IT was not without good reason that Abellino took his departure in such
haste. He had quitted the spot but a few minutes, when a large party
accidentally strolled that way, and discovered with astonishment the
corpse of Matteo, and Rosabella pale and trembling in the arbour.
A crowd immediately collected itself round them. It increased with every
moment, and Rosabella was necessitated to repeat what had happened to her
for the satisfaction of every newcomer.
In the meanwhile some of the Doge’s courtiers, who happened to be among
the crowd, hastened to call her attendants together; her gondola was
already waiting for her, and the terrified girl soon reached her uncle’s
palace in safety.
In vain was an embargo laid upon every other gondola; in vain did they
examine every person who was in the gardens of Dolabella at the time,
when the murdered assassin was first discovered. No traces could be
found of Abellino.
The report of this strange adventure spread like wildfire through Venice.
Abellino, for Rosabella had preserved but too well in her memory that
dreadful name, and by the relation of her danger had given it universal
publicity, Abellino was the object of general wonder and curiosity.
Every one pitied the poor Rosabella for what she had suffered, execrated
the villain who had bribed Matteo to murder her, and endeavoured to
connect the different circumstances together by the help of one
hypothesis or other, among which it would have been difficult to decide
which was the most improbable.
Every one who heard the adventure, told it again, and every one who told
it, added something of his own, till at length it was made into a
complete romantic novel, which might have been entitled with great
propriety, “The Power of Beauty;” for the Venetian gentlemen and ladies
had settled the point among themselves completely to their own
satisfaction, that Abellino would undoubtedly have assassinated
Rosabella, had he not been prevented by her uncommon beauty. But though
Abellino’s interference had preserved her life, it was doubted much
whether this adventure would be at all relished by her destined
bridegroom, the Prince of Monaldeschi, a Neapolitan of the first rank,
possessed of immense wealth and extensive influence. The Doge had for
some time been secretly engaged in negotiating a match between his niece
and this powerful nobleman, who was soon expected to make his appearance
at Venice. The motive of his journey, in spite of all the Doge’s
precautions, had been divulged, and it was no longer a secret to any but
Rosabella, who had never seen the prince, and could not imagine why his
expected visit should excite such general curiosity.
Thus far the story had been told much to Rosabella’s credit; but at
length the women began to envy her for her share in the adventure. The
kiss which she had received from the bravo afforded them an excellent
opportunity for throwing out a few malicious insinuations. “She received
a great service,” said one, “and there’s no saying how far the fair
Rosabella in the warmth of gratitude may have been carried in rewarding
her preserver.” “Very true,” observed another, “and for my part, I think
it not very likely that the fellow, being alone with a pretty girl, whose
life he had just saved, should have gone away contented with a single
kiss.” “Come, come,” interrupted a third, “do not let us judge
uncharitably; the fact may be exactly as the lady relates it, though I
_must_ say, that gentlemen of Abellino’s profession are not usually so
pretty-behaved, and that this is the first time I ever heard of a bravo
in the Platonics.”
In short, Rosabella and the horrible Abellino furnished the indolent and
gossiping Venetians with conversation so long, that at length the Doge’s
niece was universally known by the honourable appellation of the “Bravo’s
Bride.”
But no one gave himself more trouble about this affair than the Doge, the
good but proud Andreas. He immediately issued orders that every person
of suspicious appearance should be watched more closely than ever, the
night patrols were doubled, and spies were employed daily in procuring
intelligence of Abellino; and yet all was in vain. Abellino’s retreat
was inscrutable.