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The Bravo of Venice Part 3

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Abellino had already pa.s.sed six weeks in Venice, and yet, either from want of opportunity, or of inclination, he had suffered his daggers to remain idle in their sheaths. This proceeded partly from his not being as yet sufficiently acquainted with the windings and turnings, the bye-lanes and private alleys of the town, and partly because he had hitherto found no customers, whose murderous designs stood in need of his helping hand.

This want of occupation was irksome to him in the extreme; he panted for action, and was condemned to indolence.

With a melancholy heart did he roam through Venice, and number every step with a sigh. He frequented the public places, the taverns, the gardens, and every scene which was dedicated to amus.e.m.e.nt. But nowhere could he find what ho sought--tranquillity.

One evening he had loitered beyond the other visitants in a public garden, situated on one of the most beautiful of the Venetian islands. He strolled from arbour to arbour, threw himself down on the sea-sh.o.r.e, and watched the play of the waves as they sparkled in the moonshine.

"Four years ago," said he, with a sigh, "just such a heavenly evening was it, that I stole from Valeria's lips the first kiss, and heard from Valeria's lips for the first time the avowal that she loved me."

He was silent, and abandoned himself to the melancholy recollections which thronged before his mind's eye.

Everything around him was so calm, so silent! Not a single zephyr sighed among the blades of gra.s.s; but a storm raged in the bosom of Abellino.

"Four years ago could I have believed that a time would come when I should play the part of a bravo in Venice! Oh, where are they flown, the golden hopes and plans of glory which smiled upon me in the happy days of my youth? I am a bravo: to be a beggar were to be something better."

"When my good old father, in the enthusiasm of paternal vanity, so oft threw his arms around my neck, and cried, 'My boy, thou wilt render the name of Rosalvo glorious!' G.o.d, as I listened, how was my blood on fire? What thought I not, what that was good and great did I not promise myself to do! The father is dead, and the son is a Venetian bravo! When my preceptors praised and admired me, and, carried away by the warmth of their feelings, clapped my shoulder, and exclaimed, 'Count, thou wilt immortalise the ancient race of Rosalvo!' Ha, in those blessed moments of sweet delirium, how bright and beauteous stood futurity before me! When, happy in the performance of some good deed, I returned home, and saw Valeria hasten to receive me with open arms, and when, while she clasped me to her bosom I heard her whisper 'Oh, who could forbear to love the great Rosalvo?' G.o.d! oh, G.o.d! Away, away, glorious visions of the past. To look on you drives me mad!"

He was again silent; he bit his lips in fury, raised one emaciated hand to heaven, and struck his forehead violently with the other.

"An a.s.sa.s.sin, the slave of cowards and rascals, the ally of the greatest villains that the Venetian sun ever shines upon, such is now the great Rosalvo. Fie, ah, fie on't; and yet to this wretched lot hath fatality condemned me."

Suddenly he sprang from the ground after a long silence; his eyes sparkled, his countenance was changed; he drew his breath easier.

"Yes, by Heaven, yes. Great as Count Rosalvo, that can I be no longer; but from being great as a Venetian bravo, what prevents me?

Souls in bliss," he exclaimed, and sank on his knee, while he raised his folded hands to heaven, as if about to p.r.o.nounce the most awful oath, "Spirit of my father; spirit of Valeria, I will not become unworthy of you. Hear me, if your ghosts are permitted to wander near me, hear me swear that the bravo shall not disgrace the origin, nor render vain the hopes which soothed you in the bitterness of death. No, sure as I live, I will be the only dealer in this miserable trade, and posterity shall be compelled to honour that name, which my actions shall render ill.u.s.trious."

He bowed his forehead till it touched the earth, and his tears flowed plenteously. Vast conceptions swelled his soul; he dwelt on wondrous views, till their extent bewildered his brain; yet another hour elapsed, and he sprang from the earth to realise them.

"I will enter into no compact against human nature with five miserable cut-throats. ALONE will I make the Republic tremble, and before eight days are flown, these murderous knaves shall swing upon a gibbet. Venice shall no longer harbour FIVE banditti; ONE and ONE only shall inhabit here, and that one shall beard the Doge himself, shall watch over right and wrong, and according as he judges, shall reward and punish. Before eight days are flown, the State shall be purified from the presence of these outcasts of humanity, and then shall I stand here alone. Then must every villain in Venice, who hitherto has kept the daggers of my companions in employment, have recourse to me; then shall I know the names and persons of all those cowardly murderers, of all those ill.u.s.trious profligates, with whom Matteo and his companions carry on the trade of blood. And then-- Abellino! Abellino, that is the name. Hear it, Venice, hear it, and tremble."

Intoxicated with the wildness of his hopes, he rushed out of the garden. He summoned a gondolier, threw himself into the boat, and hastened to the dwelling of Cinthia, where the inhabitants already were folded in the arms of sleep.

CHAPTER VI: ROSABELLA, THE DOGE'S LOVELY NIECE.

"Hark, comrade," said Matteo the next morning to Abellino; "to-day thou shalt make thy first step in our profession."

"To-day!" hoa.r.s.ely murmured Abellino; "and on whom am I to show my skill?"

"Nay, to say truth, 'tis but a woman; but one must not give too difficult a task to a young beginner. I will myself accompany you, and see how you conduct yourself in the first trial."

"Hum!" said Abellino, and measured Matteo with his eye from head to foot.

"To-day, about four o'clock, thou shalt follow me to Dolabella's gardens, which are situated on the south side of Venice. We must both be disguised, you understand. In these gardens are excellent baths; and after using the baths, the Doge's niece, the lovely Rosabella of Corfu, frequently walks without attendants. And then-- you conceive me?"

"And you will accompany me?"

"I will be a spectator of your first adventure; 'tis thus I deal by every one."

"And how many inches deep must I plunge my dagger?"

"To the hilt, boy, to the very hilt! Her death is required, and the payment will be princely; Rosabella in the grave, we are rich for life."

Every other point was soon adjusted. Noon was now past, the clock in the neighbouring church of the Benedictines struck four, and Mattes and Abellino were already forth. They arrived at the gardens of Dolabella, which that day were unusually crowded. Every shady avenue was thronged with people of both s.e.xes; every arbour was occupied by persons most distinguished in Venice. In every corner sighed lovesick couples, as they waited for the wished approach of twilight; and on every side did strains of vocal and instrumental music pour their harmony on the enchanted ear.

Abellino mingled with the crowd. A most respectable looking peruke concealed the repulsive ugliness of his features; he imitated the walk and manners of a gouty old man, and supported himself by a crutch, as he walked slowly through the a.s.sembly. His habit, richly embroidered, procured for him universally a good reception, and no one scrupled to enter into conversation with him respecting the weather, the commerce of the Republic, or the designs of its enemies; and on none of these subjects was Abellino found incapable of sustaining the discourse.

By these means he soon contrived to gain intelligence that Rosabella was certainly in the gardens, how she was habited, and in what quarter he was most likely to find her.

Thither he immediately bent his course; and hard at his heels followed Matteo.

Alone, and in the most retired arbour, sat Rosabella of Corfu, the fairest maid in Venice.

Abellino drew near the arbour; he tottered, as he pa.s.sed its entrance, like one oppressed with sudden faintness, and attracted Rosabella's attention.

"Alas, alas!" cried he, "is there no one at hand who will take compa.s.sion on the infirmity of a poor old man?"

The Doge's fair niece quitted the arbour hastily, and flew to give a.s.sistance to the sufferer.

"What ails you, my good father?" she inquired in a melodious voice, and with a look of benevolent anxiety.

Abellino pointed towards the arbour; Rosabella led him in, and placed him on a seat of turf.

"G.o.d reward you, lady," stammered Abellino, faintly. He raised his eyes; they met Rosabella's, and a blush crimsoned her pale cheeks.

Rosabella stood in silence before the disguised a.s.sa.s.sin, and trembled with tender concern for the old man's illness; and oh, that expression of interest ever makes a lovely women look so much more lovely! She bent her delicate form over the man who was bribed to murder her, and after a while asked him, in gentlest tone, "Are you not better?"

"Better?" stammered the deceiver, with a feeble voice, "better--oh, yes, yes, yes. You--you are the Doge's niece--the n.o.ble Rosabella of Corfu?"

"The same, my good old man."

"Oh, lady, I have somewhat to tell you. Be on your guard, Start not! What I would say is of the utmost consequence, and demands the utmost prudence. Ah, G.o.d, that there should live men so cruel!

Lady, your life is in danger."

The maiden started back; the colour fled from her cheeks.

"Do you wish to behold your a.s.sa.s.sin? You shall not die, but if you value your life, be silent."

Rosabella knew not what to think; the presence of the old man terrified her.

"Fear nothing, lady, fear nothing; you have nothing to fear, while I am with you. Before you quit this arbour you shall see the a.s.sa.s.sin expire at your feet."

Rosabella made a movement as if she would have fled; but suddenly the person who sat beside her was no longer an infirm old man. He who a minute before had scarcely strength to mutter out a few sentences, and reclined against the arbour trembling like an aspen, sprang up with the force of a giant, and drew her back with one arm.

"For the love of heaven!" she cried, "release me. Let me fly!"

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The Bravo of Venice Part 3 summary

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