The Bravo (49 page)

"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
in that fearful building.

"It will not do, Carlo; thou wilt stumble on a soldier, and thy fault
will be known; perhaps they will refuse to let thee come again; perhaps
altogether shut the door of thy poor father's cell."

Jacopo made a gesture for her to lead the way, and followed. With a
beating, but still lightened heart, Gelsomina glided along the passages,
carefully locking each door, as of wont, behind her, when she had passed
through it. At length they reached the well known Bridge of Sighs. The
anxious girl went on with a lighter step, when she found herself
approaching her own abode, for she was busy in planning the means of
concealing her companion in her father's rooms, should there be hazard
in his passing out of the prison during the day.

"But a single minute, Carlo," she whispered, applying the key to the
door which opened into the latter building—the lock yielded, but the
hinges refused to turn. Gelsomina paled as she added—"They have drawn
the bolts within!"

"No matter; I will go down by the court of the palace, and boldly pass
the halberdier unmasked."

Gelsomina, after all, saw but little risk of his being known by the
mercenaries who served the Doge, and, anxious to relieve him from so
awkward a position, she flew back to the other end of the gallery.
Another key was applied to the door by which they had just entered, with
the same result. Gelsomina staggered back, and sought support against
the waft.

"We can neither return nor proceed!" she exclaimed, frightened she knew
not why.

"I see it all," answered Jacopo, "we are prisoners on the fatal bridge."

As he spoke, the Bravo calmly removed his mask, and showed the
countenance of a man whose resolution was at its height.

"Santa Madre di Dio! what can it mean?"

"That we have passed here once too often, love. The council is tender of
these visits."

The bolts of both doors grated, and the hinges creaked at the same
instant. An officer of the inquisition entered armed, and bearing
manacles. Gelsomina shrieked, but Jacopo moved not limb or muscle, while
he was fettered and chained.

"I too!" cried his frantic companion. "I am the most guilty—bind
me—cast me into a cell, but let poor Carlo go."

"Carlo!" echoed an officer, laughing unfeelingly.

"Is it such a crime to seek a father in his prison! They knew of his
visits—they permitted them—he has only mistaken the hour."

"Girl, dost thou know for whom thou pleadest?"

"For the kindest heart—the most faithful son in Venice! Oh! if ye had
seen him weep as I have done, over the sufferings of the old captive—if
ye had seen his very form shivering in agony, ye would have pity on
him!"

"Listen," returned the officer, raising a finger for attention.

The trumpeter sounded on the bridge of St. Mark, immediately beneath
them, and proclamation was again made, offering gold for the arrest of
the Bravo.

"'Tis the officer of the Republic, bidding for the head of one who
carries a common stiletto," cried the half-breathless Gelsomina, who
little heeded the ceremony at that instant; "he merits his fate."

"Then why resist it?"

"Ye speak without meaning!"

"Doting girl, this is Jacopo Frontoni!"

Gelsomina would have disbelieved her ears, but for the anguished
expression of Jacopo's eye. The horrible truth burst upon her mind, and
she fell lifeless. At that moment the Bravo was hurried from the bridge.

"Let us lift up the curtain, and observe
What passes in that chamber."
ROGERS.

There were many rumors uttered in the fearful and secret manner which
characterized the manner of the town, in the streets of Venice that day.
Hundreds passed near the granite columns, as if they expected to see the
Bravo occupying his accustomed stand, in audacious defiance of the
proclamation, for so long and so mysteriously had he been permitted to
appear in public, that men had difficulty in persuading themselves he
would quit his habits so easily. It is needless to say that the vague
expectation was disappointed. Much was also said, vauntingly, in behalf
of the Republic's justice, for the humbled are bold enough in praising
their superiors; and he, who had been dumb for years on subjects of a
public nature, now found his voice like a fearless freeman.

But the day passed away without any new occurrence to call the citizens
from their pursuits. The prayers for the dead were continued with little
intermission, and masses were said before the altars of half the
churches for the repose of the fisherman's soul. His comrades, a little
distrustful, but greatly gratified, watched the ceremonies with jealousy
and exultation singularly blended. Ere the night set in again, they were
among the most obedient of those the oligarchy habitually trod upon; for
such is the effect of this species of domination, that it acquires a
power to appease, by its flattery, the very discontents created by its
injustice. Such is the human mind: a factitious but deeply-seated
sentiment of respect is created by the habit of submission, which gives
the subject of its influence a feeling of atonement, when he who has
long played the superior comes down from his stilts, and confesses the
community of human frailties!

The square of St. Mark filled at the usual hour, the patricians deserted
the Broglio as of wont, and the gaieties of the place were again
uppermost, before the clock had struck the second hour of the night.
Gondolas, filled with noble dames, appeared on the canals; the blinds of
the palaces were raised for the admission of the sea-breeze;—and music
began to be heard in the port, on the bridges, and under the balconies
of the fair. The course of society was not to be arrested, merely
because the wronged were unavenged, or the innocent suffered.