THE BANDITTI.
And now rushed the unfortunate wildly through the streets of Venice.
He railed at fortune; he laughed and cursed by turns; yet sometimes he suddenly stood still, seemed as pondering on some great and wondrous enterprise, and then again rushed onwards, as if hastening to its execution.
Propped against a column of the Signoria, he counted over the whole sum of his misfortunes. His wandering eyeballs appeared to seek comfort, but they found it not.
"Fate," he at length exclaimed in a paroxy** of despair, "Fate has condemned me to be either the wildest of adventurers, or one at the relation of whose crimes the world must shudder. To astonish is my destiny. Rosalvo can know no medium; Rosalvo can never act like common men. Is it not the hand of fate which has led me hither?
Who could ever have dreamt that the son of the richest lord in Naples should have depended for a beggar's alms on Venetian charity?
I--I, who feel myself possessed of strength of body and energy of soul fit for executing the most daring deeds, behold me creeping in rags through the streets of this inhospitable city, and torturing my wits in vain to discover some means by which I may rescue life from the jaws of famine! Those men whom my munificence nourished, who at my table bathed their worthless souls in the choicest wines of Cyprus, and glutted themselves with every delicacy which the globe's four quarters could supply, these very men now deny to my necessity even a miserable crust of mouldy bread. Oh, that is dreadful, cruel--cruel of men--cruel of Heaven!"He paused, folded his arms, and sighed.
"Yet will I bear it--I will submit to my destiny. I will traverse every path and go through every degree of human wretchedness; and whate'er may be my fate, I will still be myself; and whate'er may be my fate, I will still act greatly! Away, then, with the Count Rosalvo, whom all Naples idolised; now--now, I am the beggar Abellino. A beggar--that name stands last in the scale of worldly rank, but first in the list of the famishing, the outcast, and the unworthy."Something rustled near him. Abellino gazed around. He was aware of the bravo, whom he struck to the ground that night, and whom two companions of a similar stamp had now joined. As they advanced, they cast inquiring glances around them. They were in search of some one.
"It is of me that they are in search," said Abellino; then advanced a few steps, and whistled.
The ruffians stood still; they whispered together, and seemed to be undecided.
Abellino whistled a second time.
"'Tis he," he could hear one of them say distinctly, and in a moment after they advanced slowly towards him.
Abellino kept his place, but unsheathed his sword. The three unknown (they were masked) stopped a few paces from him.
"How now, fellow!" quoth one of them; "what is the matter? Why stand you on your guard?"Abellino.--It is as well that you should be made to keep your distance, for I know you; you are certain honest gentlemen, who live by taking away the lives of others.
The First Ruffian.--Was not your whistling addressed to us?
Abellino.--It was.
A Ruffian.--And what would you with us?
Abellino.--Hear me! I am a miserable wretch, and starving; give me an alms out of your booty!
A Ruffian.--An alms? Ha! ha! ha! By my soul that is whimsical!--Alms from us, indeed!--Oh, by all means! No doubt, you shall have alms in plenty.
Abellino.--Or else give me fifty sequins, and I'll bind myself to your service till I shall have worked out my debt.
A Ruffian.--Aye? and pray, then, who may you be?
Abellino.--A starving wretch, the Republic holds none more miserable. Such am I at present; but hereafter--I have powers, knaves. This arm could pierce a heart, though guarded by three breastplates; this eye, though surrounded by Egyptian darkness, could still see to stab sure.
A Ruffian.--Why, then, did you strike me down, even now?
Abellino.--In the hope of being paid for it; but though I saved his life, the scoundrel gave me not a single ducat.
A Ruffian.--No? So much the better. But hark ye, comrade, are you sincere?
Abellino.--Despair never lies.
A Ruffian.--Slave, shouldst thou be a traitor -Abellino.--My heart would be within reach of your hands, and your daggers would be as sharp as now.
The three dangerous companions again whispered among themselves for a few moments, after which they returned their daggers into the sheath.
"Come on, then," said one of them, "follow us to our home. It were unwise to talk over certain matters in the open streets.""I follow you," was Abellino's answer, "but tremble should any one of you dare to treat me as a foe. Comrade, forgive me that I gave your ribs somewhat too hard a squeeze just now; I will be your sworn brother in recompense.""We are on honour," cried the banditti with one voice; "no harm shall happen to you. He who does you an injury shall be to us as a foe. A fellow of your humour suits us well; follow us, and fear not."And on they went, Abellino marching between two of them. Frequent were the looks of suspicion which he cast around him; but no ill design was perceptible in the banditti. They guided him onwards, till they reached a canal, loosened a gondola, placed themselves in it, and rowed till they had gained the most remote quarter of Venice. They landed, threaded several by-streets, and at length knocked at the door of a house of inviting appearance. It was opened by a young woman, who conducted them into a plain but comfortable chamber. Many were the looks of surprise and inquiry which she cast on the bewildered, half-pleased, half-anxious Abellino, who knew not whither he had been conveyed, and still thought it unsafe to confide entirely in the promises of the banditti.