"Gessina, we live in an unaccountable country! The man walks the piazza with a step as lordly as the Doge, at his pleasure, and yet none say aught to him! I have seen him, at noonday, leaning against the triumphal mast, or the column of San Theodoro, with as proud an air as if he were put there to celebrate a victory of the Republic!"
"Perhaps he is master of some terrible secret, which they fear he will reveal?"
"Thou knowest little of Venice, child! Holy Maria! a secret of that kind is a death-warrant of itself. It is as dangerous to know too much as it is to know too little, when one deals with St. Mark. But they say Jacopo was there, standing eye to eye with the Doge, and scaring the Senators as if he had been an uncalled spectre from the vaults of their fathers.
Nor is this all; as I crossed the Lagunes this morning, I saw the body of a young cavalier drawn from the water, and those who were near it said it had the mark of his fatal hand!"
The timid Gelsomina shuddered.
"They who rule," she said, "will have to answer for this negligence to G.o.d, if they let the wretch longer go at large."
"Blessed St. Mark protect his children! They say there is much of this sort of sin to answer for--but see the body I did, with my own eyes, in entering the ca.n.a.ls this morning."
"And didst thou sleep on the Lido, that thou wert abroad so early?"
"The Lido--yes--nay--I slept not, but thou knowest my father had a busy day during the revels, and I am not like thee, Gessina, mistress of the household, to do as I would. But I tarry here to chat with thee, when there is great need of industry at home. Hast thou the package, child, which I trusted to thy keeping at my last visit?"
"It is here," answered Gelsomina, opening a drawer, and handing to her cousin a small but closely enveloped package, which, unknown to herself, contained some articles of forbidden commerce, and which the other, in her indefatigable activity, had been obliged to secrete for a time. "I had begun to think that thou hadst forgotten it, and was about to send it to thee."
"Gelsomina, if thou lovest me, never do so rash an act! My brother Giuseppe--thou scarce knowest Giuseppe?"
"We have little acquaintance, for cousins."
"Thou art fortunate in thy ignorance. I cannot say what I might of the child of the same parents, but had Giuseppe seen this package by any accident, it might have brought thee into great trouble!"
"Nay, I fear not thy brother, nor any else," said the daughter of the prison-keeper, with the firmness of innocence; "he could do me no harm for dealing kindly by a relative."
"Thou art right; but he might have caused me great vexation. Sainted Maria! if thou knewest the pain that unthinking and misguided boy gives his family! He is my brother, after all, and you will fancy the rest.
Addio, good Gessina; I hope thy father will permit thee to come and visit, at last, those who so much love thee."
"Addio, Annina; thou knowest I would come gladly, but that I scarce quit the side of my poor mother."
The wily daughter of the wine-seller gave her guileless and unsuspecting friend a kiss, and then she was let out and departed.
"Carlo," said the soft voice of Gessina; "thou can"st come forth, for we have no further fear of visits."
The Bravo appeared, but with a paleness deeper than common on his cheek.
He looked mournfully at the gentle and affectionate being who awaited his return, and when he struggled to answer her ingenuous smile, the abortive effort gave his features an expression of ghastliness.
"Annina has wearied thee with her idle discourse of the regatta, and of murders on the ca.n.a.ls. Thou wilt not judge her harshly, for the manner in which she spoke of Giuseppe, who may deserve this, and more. But I know thy impatience, and I will not increase thy weariness."
"Hold, Gessina--this girl is thy cousin?"
"Have I not told thee so? Our mothers are sisters."
"And she is here often?"
"Not as often as she could wish, I am certain, for her aunt has not quitted her room for many, many months."
"Thou art an excellent daughter, kind Gessina, and would make all others as virtuous as thyself. And thou hast been to return these visits?"
"Never. My father forbids it, for they are dealers in wines, and entertain the gondoliers in revelry. But Annina is blameless for the trade of her parents."
"No doubt--and that package? it hath been long in thy keeping."
"A month; Annina left it at her last visit, for she was hurried to cross to the Lido. But why these questions? You do not like my cousin, who is giddy, and given to idle conversation, but who, I think, must have a good heart. Thou heard"st the manner in which she spoke of the wretched bravo, Jacopo, and of this late murder?"
"I did."
"Thou could"st not have shown more horror at the monster"s crime thyself, Carlo. Nay, Annina is thoughtless, and she might be less worldly; but she hath, like all of us, a holy aversion to sin. Shall I lead thee to the cell?"
"Go on."
"Thy honest nature, Carlo, revolts at the cold villany of the a.s.sa.s.sin.
I have heard much of his murders, and of the manner in which those up above bear with him. They say, in common, that his art surpa.s.seth theirs, and that the officers wait for proof, that they may not do injustice."
"Is the Senate so tender, think you?" asked the Bravo, huskily, but motioning for his companion to proceed.
The girl looked sad, like one who felt the force of this question; and she turned away to open a private door, whence she brought forth a little box.
"This is the key, Carlo," she said, showing him one of a ma.s.sive bunch, "and I am now the sole warder. This much, at least, we have effected; the day may still come when we shall do more."
The Bravo endeavored to smile, as if he appreciated her kindness; but he only succeeded in making her understand his desire to go on. The eye of the gentle-hearted girl lost its gleam of hope in an expression of sorrow, and she obeyed.
CHAPTER XIX.
"But let us to the roof, And, when thou hast surveyed the sea, the land, Visit the narrow cells that cl.u.s.ter there, As in a place of tombs."
ST. MARK"S PLACE.
We shall not attempt to thread the vaulted galleries, the gloomy corridors, and all the apartments, through which the keeper"s daughter led her companion. Those who have ever entered an extensive prison, will require no description to revive the feeling of pain which it excited, by barred windows, creaking hinges, grating bolts, and all those other signs, which are alike the means and evidence of incarceration. The building, unhappily like most other edifices intended to repress the vices of society, was vast, strong, and intricate within, although, as has been already intimated, of a chaste and simple beauty externally, that might seem to have been adopted in mockery of its destination.
Gelsomina entered a low, narrow, and glazed gallery, when she stopped.
"Thou soughtest me, as wont, beneath the water-gate, Carlo," she asked, "at the usual hour?"
"I should not have entered the prison had I found thee there, for thou knowest I would be little seen. But I bethought me of thy mother, and crossed the ca.n.a.l."
"Thou wast wrong. My mother rests much as she has done for many months--thou must have seen that we are not taking the usual route to the cell?"
"I have; but as we are not accustomed to meet in thy father"s rooms, on this errand, I thought this the necessary direction."
"Hast thou much knowledge of the palace and the prison, Carlo?"
"More than I could wish, good Gelsomina; but why am I thus questioned, at a moment when I would be otherwise employed?"