Jacopo shuddered, signifying his a.s.sent merely by a sign. The effect of this tacit acknowledgment on the youngest of the three was apparent, for he turned to his companions, like one struck by the confession it implied. His colleagues made dignified inclinations in return, and the silent communication ceased.
"His death has excited discontent among his fellows, and its cause has become a serious subject of inquiry for the ill.u.s.trious Council."
"The death of the meanest man in Venice should call forth the care of the patricians, Signore."
"Dost thou know, Jacopo, that thou art accused of being his murderer?"
"Signore, I do."
"It is said that thou earnest among the gondoliers in the late regatta, and that, but for this aged fisherman, thou would"st have been winner of the prize?"
"In that, rumor hath not lied, Signore."
"Thou dost not, then, deny the charge!" said the examiner, in evident surprise.
"It is certain that, but for the fisherman, I should have been the winner."
"And thou wished it, Jacopo?"
"Signore, greatly," returned the accused, with a show of emotion, that had not hitherto escaped him. "I was a man condemned of his fellows, and the oar had been my pride, from childhood to that hour."
Another movement of the third inquisitor betrayed equally his interest and his surprise.
"Dost thou confess the crime?"
Jacopo smiled, but more in derision than with any other feeling.
"If the ill.u.s.trious senators here present will unmask, I may answer that question, haply, with greater confidence," he said.
"Thy request is bold and out of rule. None know the persons of the patricians who preside over the destinies of the state. Dost thou confess the crime?"
The entrance of an officer, in some haste, prevented a reply. The man placed a written report in the hands of the inquisitor in red, and withdrew. After a short pause, the guards were ordered to retire with their prisoner.
"Great senators!" said Jacopo, advancing earnestly towards the table, as if he would seize the moment to urge what he was about to say;--"Mercy!
grant me your authority to visit one in the prisons, beneath the leads!--I have weighty reasons for the wish, and I pray you, as men and fathers, to grant it!"
The interest of the two, who were consulting apart on the new intelligence, prevented them from listening to what he urged. The other inquisitor, who was the Signer Soranzo, had drawn near the lamp, anxious to read the lineaments of one so notorious, and was gazing at his striking countenance. Touched by the pathos of his voice, and agreeably disappointed in the lineaments he studied, he took upon himself the power to grant the request.
"Humor his wish," he said to the halberdiers; "but have him in readiness to reappear."
Jacopo looked his grat.i.tude, but fearful that the others might still interfere to prevent his wish, he hurried from the room.
The march of the little procession, which proceeded from the chamber of the inquisition to the summer cells of its victims, was sadly characteristic of the place and the government.
It went through gloomy and secret corridors, that were hid from the vulgar eye, while thin part.i.tions only separated them from the apartments of the Doge, which, like the specious aspect of the state, concealed the nakedness and misery within, by their gorgeousness and splendor! On reaching the attic, Jacopo stopped, and turned to his conductors.
"If you are beings of G.o.d"s forming," he said, "take off these clanking chains, though it be but for a moment."
The keepers regarded each other in surprise, neither offering to do the charitable office.
"I go to visit, probably for the last time," continued the prisoner, "a bed-ridden--I may say--a dying father, who knows nothing of my situation,--will ye that he should see me thus?"
The appeal which was made, more with the voice and manner, than in the words, had its effect. A keeper removed the chains, and bade him proceed. With a cautious tread, Jacopo advanced, and when the door was opened he entered the room alone, for none there had sufficient interest in an interview between a common Bravo and his father, to endure the glowing warmth of the place, the while. The door was closed after him, and the room became dark.
Notwithstanding his a.s.sumed firmness, Jacopo hesitated when he found himself so suddenly introduced to the silent misery of the forlorn captive. A hard breathing told him the situation of the pallet, but the walls, which were solid on the side of the corridor, effectually prevented the admission of light.
"Father!" said Jacopo with gentleness.
He got no answer.
"Father!" he repeated in a stronger voice.
The breathing became more audible, and then the captive spoke.
"Holy Maria hear my prayers!" he said feebly. "G.o.d hath sent thee, son, to close my eyes!"
"Doth thy strength fail thee, father?"
"Greatly--my time is come--I had hoped to see the light of the day again to bless thy dear mother and sister--G.o.d"s will be done!"
"They pray for us both, father. They are beyond the power of the Senate."
"Jacopo, I do not understand thee!"
"My mother and sister are dead; they are saints in Heaven, father."
The old man groaned, for the tie of earth had not yet been entirely severed. Jacopo heard him murmuring a prayer, and he knelt by the side of his pallet.
"This is a sudden blow!" whispered the old man. "We depart together."
"They are long dead, father."
"Why hast thou not told me this before, Jacopo?"
"Hadst thou not sorrows enough without this? Now that thou art about to join them, it will be pleasant to know that they have so long been happy."
"And thou?--thou wilt be alone--give me thy hand--poor Jacopo!"
The Bravo reached forth and took the feeble member of his parent; it was clammy and cold.
"Jacopo," continued the captive, whose mind still sustained the body, "I have prayed thrice within the hour: once for my own soul--once for the peace of thy mother--lastly, for thee!"
"Bless thee, father!--bless thee! I have need of prayer!"
"I have asked of G.o.d favor in thy behalf. I have bethought me of all thy love and care--of all thy devotion to my age and sufferings. When thou wert a child, Jacopo, tenderness for thee tempted me to acts of weakness: I trembled lest thy manhood might bring upon me pain and repentance. Thou hast not known the yearnings of a parent for his offspring, but thou hast well requited them. Kneel, Jacopo, that I may ask of G.o.d, once more, to remember thee."
"I am at thy side, father."
The old man raised his feeble arms, and with a voice whose force appeared reviving, he p.r.o.nounced a fervent and solemn benediction.