The Bravo, James Fenimore Cooper [best book reader .txt] 📗

of the pain of passing the bleak winter below the canals, and the burning summers beneath hot metal."

"They think of nothing but their power," murmured Jacopo--"that which is wrongfully obtained, must be maintained by merciless injustice--but why should we speak of this, father; hast thou all thy body needs?"

"Air--son, air!--give me of that air, which God has made for the meanest living thing."

The Bravo rushed towards those fissures in the venerable but polluted pile he had already striven to open, and with frantic force he endeavored to widen them with his hands. The material resisted, though blood flowed from the ends of his fingers in the desperate effort.

"The door, Gelsomina, open wide the door!" he cried, turning away from the spot, exhausted with his fruitless exertions.

"Nay, I do not suffer now, my child--it is when thou hast left me, and when I am alone with my own thoughts, when I see thy weeping mother and neglected sister, that I most feel the want of air--are we not in the fervid month of August, son?"

"Father, it is not yet June."

"I shall then have more heat to bear! God's will be done, and blessed Santa Maria, his mother undefiled!--give me strength to endure it."

The eye of Jacopo gleamed with a wildness scarcely less frightful than the ghastly look of the old man, his chest heaved, his fingers were clenched, and his breathing was audible.

"No," he said, in a low, but in so determined a voice, as to prove how fiercely his resolution was set, "thou shalt not await their torments: arise, father, and go with me. The doors are open, the ways of the palace are known to me in the darkest night, and the keys are at hand. I will find means to conceal thee until dark, and we will quit the accursed Republic for ever."

Hope gleamed in the eye of the old captive, as he listened to this frantic proposal, but distrust of the means immediately altered its expression.

"Thou forgettest those up above, son."

"I think only of One truly above, father."

"And this girl--how canst thou hope to deceive her?"

"She will take thy place--she is with us in heart, and will lend herself to a seeming violence. I do not promise for thee idly, kindest Gelsomina?"

The frightened girl, who had never before witnessed so plain evidence of desperation in her companion, had sunk upon an article of furniture, speechless. The look of the prisoner changed from one to the other, and he made an effort to rise, but debility caused him to fall backwards, and not till then did Jacopo perceive the impracticability, on many accounts, of what, in a moment of excitement, he had proposed. A long silence followed. The hard breathing of Jacopo gradually subsided, and the expression of his face changed to its customary settled and collected look.

"Father," he said, "I must quit thee; our misery draws near a close."

"Thou wilt come to me soon again?"

"If the saints permit--thy blessing, father."

The old man folded his hands above the head of Jacopo, and murmured a prayer. When this pious duty was performed, both the Bravo and Gelsomina busied themselves a little time in contributing to the bodily comforts of the prisoner, and then they departed in company.

Jacopo appeared unwilling to quit the vicinity of the cell. A melancholy presentiment seemed to possess his mind, that these stolen visits were soon to cease. After a little delay, however, they descended to the apartments below, and as Jacopo desired to quit the palace without re-entering the prisons, Gelsomina prepared to let him out by the principal corridor.

"Thou art sadder than common, Carlo," she observed, watching with feminine assiduity his averted eye. "Methinks thou should'st rejoice in the fortunes of the Neapolitan, and of the lady of the Tiepolo."

"That escape is like a gleam of sunshine in a wintry day. Good girl--but we are observed! who is yon spy on our movements?"

"'Tis a menial of the palace; they constantly cross us in this part of the building: come hither, if thou art weary. The room is little used, and we may again look out upon the sea."

Jacopo followed his mild conductor into one of the neglected closets of the second floor, where, in truth, he was glad to catch a glimpse of the state of things in the piazza, before he left the palace. His first look was at the water, which was still rolling southward, before the gale from the Alps. Satisfied with this prospect, he bent his eye beneath. At the instant, an officer of the Republic issued from the palace gate, preceded by a trumpeter, as was usual, when there was occasion to make public proclamation of the Senate's will. Gelsomina opened the casement, and both leaned forward to listen. When the little procession had reached the front of the cathedral, the trumpet sounded, and the voice of the officer was heard.

"Whereas many wicked and ruthless assassinations have of late been committed on the persons of divers good citizens of Venice,"--he proclaimed--"the Senate, in its fatherly care of all whom it is charged to protect, has found reason to resort to extraordinary means of preventing the repetition of crimes so contrary to the laws of God and the security of society. The illustrious Ten therefore offer, thus publicly, a reward of one hundred sequins to him who shall discover the perpetrator of any of these most horrible assassinations; and, whereas, during the past night, the body of a certain Antonio, a well known fisherman, and a worthy citizen, much esteemed by the patricians, has been found in the Lagunes, and, whereas, there is but too much reason to believe that he has come to his death by the hands of a certain Jacopo Frontoni, who has the reputation of a common Bravo, but who has been long watched in rain by the authorities, with the hope of detecting him in the commission of some one of the aforesaid horrible assassinations; now, all good and honest citizens of the Republic are enjoined to assist the authorities in seizing the person of the said Jacopo Frontoni, even though he should take sanctuary: for Venice can no longer endure the presence of one of his sanguinary habits, and for the encouragement of the same, the Senate, in its paternal care, offers the reward of three hundred sequins." The usual words of prayer and sovereignty closed the proclamation.

As it was not usual for those who ruled so much in the dark to make their intentions public, all near listened with wonder and awe to the novel procedure. Some trembled, lest the mysterious and much-dreaded power was about to exhibit itself; while most found means of making their admiration of the fatherly interest of their rulers audible.

None heard the words of the officer with more feeling than Gelsomina. She bent her body far from the window, in order that not a syllable should escape her.

"Did'st thou hear, Carlo?" demanded the eager girl, as she drew back her head; "they proclaim, at last, money for the monster who has committed so many murders!"

Jacopo laughed; but to the ears of his startled companion the sounds were unnatural.

"The patricians are just, and what they do is right," he said. "They are of illustrious birth, and cannot err! They will do their duty."

"But here is no other duty than that they owe to God, and to the people."

"I have heard of the duty of the people, but little is said of the Senate's."

"Nay, Carlo, we will not refuse them credit when in truth they seek to keep the citizens from harm. This Jacopo is a monster, detested by all, and his bloody deeds have too long been a reproach to Venice. Thou hearest that the patricians are not niggard of their gold, when there is hope of his being taken. Listen! they proclaim again!"

The trumpet sounded, and the proclamation was repeated between the granite columns of the Piazzetta, and quite near to the window occupied by Gelsomina and her unmoved companion.

"Why dost thou mask, Carlo?" she asked, when the officer had done; "it is not usual to be disguised in the palace at this hour."

"They will believe it the Doge, blushing to be an auditor of his own liberal justice, or they may mistake me for one of the Three itself."

"They go by the quay to the arsenal; thence they will take boat, as is customary, for the Rialto."

"Thereby giving this redoubtable Jacopo timely notice to secrete himself! Your judges up above are mysterious when they should be open; and open when they should be secret. I must quit thee, Gelsomina; go, then, back to the room of thy father, and leave me to pass out by the court of the palace."

"It may not be, Carlo--thou knowest the permission of the authorities--I have exceeded--why should I wish to conceal it from thee--but it was not permitted to thee to enter at this hour."

"And thou hast had the courage to transgress the leave for my sake, Gelsomina?"

The abashed girl hung her head, and the color which glowed about her temples was like the rosy light of her own Italy.

"Thou would'st have it so," she said.

"A thousand thanks, dearest, kindest, truest Gelsomina; but doubt not my being able to leave the palace unseen. The danger was in entering. They who go forth do it with the air of having authority."

"None pass the halberdiers masked by day, Carlo, but they who have the secret word."

The Bravo appeared struck with this truth, and there was great embarrassment expressed in his manner. The terms of his admittance were so well understood to himself, that he distrusted the expediency of attempting to get upon the quays by the prison, the way he had entered, since he had little doubt that his retreat would be intercepted by those who kept the outer gate, and who were probably, by this time, in the secret of his true character. It now appeared that egress by the other route was equally hazardous. He had not been surprised so much by the substance of the proclamation, as by the publicity the Senate had seen fit to give to its policy, and he had heard himself denounced, with a severe pang, it is true, but without terror. Still he had so many means of disguise, and the practice of personal concealment was so general in Venice, that he had entertained no great distrust of the result until he now found himself in this awkward dilemma. Gelsomina read his indecision in his eye, and regretted that she should have caused him so much uneasiness.

"It is not so bad as thou seemest to think, Carlo," she observed; "they have permitted thee to visit thy father at stated hours, and the permission is a proof that the Senate is not without pity. Now that I, to oblige thy wishes, have forgotten one of their injunctions, they will not be so hard of heart as to visit the fault as a crime."

Jacopo gazed at her with pity, for well did he understand how little she knew of the real nature and wily policy of the state.

"It is time that we should part," he said, "lest thy innocence should be made to pay the price of my mistake. I am now near the public corridor, and must trust to my fortune to gain the quay."

Gelsomina hung upon his arm, unwilling to trust him to his own guidance