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EMORY UNIVERSITY
THE
SUNNY SOUTH:
OR, TIIE
BATTLE ON THE BOSPRORUS.
EY
Capt. P. C. AEMSTRONTG-,
AUTHOR OF "THE PIRATES OF THE FOAM,  PERILS BY SEA AND
LAND, "CRUISE OF THE DARING,  SAILOR HERO, ETC.
LONDON
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MILFORD LANE, STRAND, W.C.
THE
SUNNY SOUTH.
CHAPTER I.
the encampment.
About five leagues from the once important and flourishing
city of Pisa, lies a valley of great beauty and fertility, though
of circumscribed extent. The surrounding hills, of moderate
height, are rich to their very summits in vegetation.
Winding through this valley ran a clear and placid stream,
which shortly after became lost in the wider and more
classic waters of the Arno. On each side of this stream the
pasturage was rich ; and, at the period of our tale, about the
middle of the fourteenth century, its whole extent was dotted
with the white tents of a very large body of Condottieri.
These tents, however, were not scattered over the valley in
picturesque confusion, as might be supposed from the nature
and inclination of the reckless bands of mercenaries then
spread over the lands of the South ; but, on the contrary, were
ranged in perfect order and regularity, round a very large
octagon pavilion, over the summit of which waved the broad
banner of St. George of England.
Though after this chapter we have nothing farther to do
with the doughty Sir John Hawkwood—whose name was cele-
brated throughout Italy'—we must introduce him here. Within
the centre pavilion, which was handsomely lined with crimson
cloth, its pillars supporting arms and armour, were spread on a
table several large, roughly-sketched charts ; and looking over
these sat the English knight and a young man about twenty-
five years of age.
This latter cavalier had already given celebrity to the name
of Paoli, having achieved extraordinary fame in his heroic de-
fence of his country, Corsica ; and also, during a period of two
a 2
4
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OH,
years, passed in fighting under the Pisan banner, when he re-
ceived the honour of being created a Knight of St. Stephen
■—a military order then existing, and admitting only personages
of high station and renown into their community.
Giacinto Paoli was remarkable for his height, immense
strength, and extraordinary skill in the use of all warlike
weapons. Singularly graceful in person, and eminently hand-
some, he won not only admiration by his personal appearance,
but by the generosity and nobleness of his disposition.
"Now, Giacinto, said Sir John Hawkwood, laying down his
dagger, with which he was tracing a road across a most intri-
cate looking country, roughly sketched on one of the charts,
 let me hear your adventures since we parted. I need not say
how grieved I was on learning your noble father's fate, and the
conquest of your native land by those crafty Genoese—a con-
quest they would never have achieved without the aid of
Prance.
In truth, Sir John, replied the young knight,  my adven-
tures have little of interest. But as the recital will explain to
you my reason for seeking service in the Venetian republic, I
will briefly relate them.
 My father, you are aware, was betrayed into the hands of
the Genoese general, Mastino Campaldino, one of the most
cruel, ferocious, and crafty commanders ever sent by Genoa into
Corsica.
 I was retreating with my cousin, Otho Sampiero, who, you
may remember, visited me for a short period at Pisa.
 A noble and high-spirited youth, indeed, interposed Sir
John.
 We were retreating before an overwhelming force of
Genoese and French, pursued Giacinto, "when news reached
us that the strong fortress of Corte had fallen into the hands of
the Genoese through treachery ; and that my father, General
Paoli, and Cicaldi, and several other brave chiefs, had been
taken prisoners, and barbarously executed on the walls of the
citadel, as traitors and rebels, by order of Mastino Campaldino.
I at once vowed never to sheath my sword, or quit the island,
till I accomplished the death of the Genoese general, who had
so cruelly put my father to death.
 I will not weary you with minute details. The overpower-
ing force of Genoese and French, aided by swarms of vile adven-
turers, drove us to the mountains for safety. The whole island
submitted, after many towns, villages, and castles had been
burnt and destroyed, and the inhabitants massacred.
 My cousin Otho and myself, with five hundred men, defied,
for many months, all the efforts of the Genoese commander to
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHOllUS.
5
draw us out of our retreat. I was ardently waiting for an
opportunity to avenge my father's death, and then fly my un-
happy country, which I could no longer defend.
"At length my scouts brought me word that Campaldino had
left Corte, at the head of more than eight hundred Genoese
and French. He was to be joined by a body of two thousand
adventurers, outlaws, and assassins, shipped from the prisons of
Genoa, and pardoned on condition of fighting against the Cor-
sicans ; Campaldino having sworn to drive us from our fast-
nesses, and massacre every man with arms in his hands.
 I now resolved to attack the Genoese general as he and his
force passed through the celebrated gorge of Gravellino—one
of the most remarkable defiles in the island. This singular
gorge resembles a deep cut made by art through a mountain of
rock, the sides being perpendicular. The pass is nearly a
mile in length—the summits of the two sides bein covered by
gigantic pines.
"We reached this pass two days before Mastino. Cutting
the immense pines nearly through, we supported them by ropes.
Enormous rocks were loosened by the brave peasantry, who
worked day and night. In fact, a fearful avalanche was pre-
Spared to overwhelm the Genoese force as it defiled through the
gorge.
 The day on which I expected to destroy this cruel enemy
to Corsica broke clear and bright. Not a breath of wind stirred
the leaves of the low shrubs behind which I had posted my
men ; while two hundred peasants stood ready with their axes
to cut away the ropes that held the mass above. From where
my cousin and myself were posted, we could see the entrance of
the gorge. A note from my bugle was to be the signal to those
above.
 As I anxiously fixed my eyes in the direction I expected to
see the enemy advance, I heard the clear notes of the French
horn break the perfect stillness that reigned around ; and a
very few minutes after, we beheld the glitter of arms. Sin-
gular enough for a soldier of Campaldino's experience, he led
his forces into the gorge of Gravellino without any precaution.
The band in advance was composed of adventurers, who
marched without order or banner. After them came the
Genoese general, at the head of his well-armed and disciplined
soldiers. My squire, Pulini, who knew Campaldino, pointed him
out to me amidst the group of officers ; for, as yet, I had never
encountered him. He was in complete mail, and rode one of
the small Corsican horses.
 I allowed the Genoese force to enter the pass about half
way before I gave the signal from my bugle. The instant the
6
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OB,
first note reached the ear of Campaldino, he ordered a halt;
the next instant, the fearful avalanche of timber and rock came
thundering down the mountain, uprooting vast masses of rock.
It appeared as if the sides of the gorge had collapsed, so terri-
ble was the scene. Hundreds were entombed beneath this
awful mass of materials. In the midst of the horror excited
by this unexpected event, we sallied out from our secure re-
treats on both sides, and fell upon the remnants of Campal-
dino's force. The Genoese general was himself unhurt, as I
purposely allowed him and about three hundred of his men to
advance beyond the critical spot. Recovering from his sur-
prise, he offered a bold front, while those left alive of the adven-
turers fled wildly through the pass. I soon reached the side of
Mastino, shouting my name, and my father's wrongs, in his ear.
Campaldino seemed paralyzed. Still he strove to defend him
self, uttering some words which, in the excitement of the
moment, I did not hear ; and in less than five minutes he lay
slain at my feet. Mastino's son and about two hundred of his
followers contrived to escape ; but the adventurers lost nearly
half their number.
 After this my force dispersed ; for, having consulted
Gaffieri and other chiefs, we all agreed that at that time to
prolong the contest would oniy bring greater misery upon Cor-
sica. We therefore agreed to separate and get, as best we
could, to the Continent. I then made the best of my way with
only twenty men ; and was guided by my attached follower
Pulini into the pieve of Orto, my father's property. The
mansion was in ruins, the land laid waste, and the town and
villages burnt some time back by order of Campaldino. Here,
in a secret place, my father had buried the family plate and
jewels. Pulini, who is my father's foster-brother, knew the
spot. This practice of burying the family property is always
resorted to by Corsican lords, in the event of an invasion.
Here I separated from my cousin Sampiero, who set out for his
own domain, intending to make his way with Gaffieri across to
Sardinia, and agreeing, if we were so fortunate as to escape, to
meet in Rome.
 A short time after our separation, with six followers only,
I contrived, during a dark and stormy night, to cut away a
Tartana from the harbour of Mariana ; and the gale blowing
from the coast of Corsica, we steered for the Italian shore.
Accustomed, from my earliest years, to the sea, and passion-
ately fond of the element, I found no difficulty in conducting
my bark to Piombino. There I landed with Pulini, and what-
ever valuables I had dug up from our buried property. My
countrymen then sailed for Sardinia, intending, after a time, to
get back to their wives and families.
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSBHORUS.
7
 At this period I was only two-and-twenty years of age
When I left the city of Pisa six years previously, you were
fighting under her banner; and though then only sixteen, I
obtained leave from my father, who was greatly attached to
you, to practise arms under your eye ; and to your watchful
care and kindness I owe my skill in them. I heard, on my
arrival, that you were in the Milanese—Pisa was then at war
with Florence. During two years that the war lasted, I fought
for her, gained some renown, and became a Knight of St.
Stephen's. I then proceeded to Rome ; and, to my infinite joy,
heard from his kinsman, the Colonna, that my cousin Otho
had reached Rome in safety. But he was absent, not liking
an idle life, and I resolved to follow up a project which my
lamented father desired I should undertake, should he fall
in the contest with Genoa, and be forced to fly from the
island.
 A short time previous to his setting out for the citadel of
Corte, my father said to me, ' Should it please Providence, my
beloved son, that I fall, and you are forced to fly your country,
I know no better banner under which you can serve than the
Lion of St. Mark. In my youth I chanced to save, in Florence,
the life of a Venetian merchant of great wealth, by name
Tiepolo. We were nearly the same age ; a friendship ensued ;
and for several months we traversed many parts of Italy toge-
ther, till he recovered from his wound. We then parted—he
to return to Venice, and I to Corsica. He pressed on my finger
at parting,5 continued my father, ' this valuable and splendid
ring, which I now give you, saying at the time,—The possessor
of this ring may command the fortunes of Tiepolo.'
 Hearing in Rome that Venice was engaged in a fierce war
with Genoa, I determined to set out at once for that far-famed
city of the waves ; but, having left my horses and arms at
Pisa, I returned here, and was delighted and surprised to learn
you had encamped in this valley. I therefore at once resolved
to pay you this visit on my way.
 So now, dear Sir John, you know my reason for wishing to
serve under the banner of the Venetian republic—the war is
against our old and bitter enemies; and the more they are
crippled the better for Corsica, who may yet make a struggle
for her liberty.
 Well, I trust in God she may ! said Sir John heartily ;
 for I love freedom, and I detest those crafty Genoese. But, at
all events, I have my doubts about their rivals, the Venetians.
It is a government I do not admire. I hate mystery. How-
ever, since your noble father wished you to take service under
the ' Winged Lion,' I will not farther press my offer of five
8
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
hundred free lances. Still, remember that should you get
disgusted with the worthy ten Councillors of St, Mark, and
I remain in the land of the living, they are still at your
service.
Giacinto Paoli pressed the hand of the worthy English knight,
and expressed his thanks warmly.
"But now, my dear boy, resumed Sir John, "let me give
you a brief outline of the state of this fair land wherein you
are about to try your fortunes. No man can have greater
experience of the Italian character, their customs and political
opinions and factions, than myself. Sunk in sloth and luxury,
the native princes and rulers have left their possessions at the
mercy of numerous predatory bands, under various denomina-
tions. There are Black Bands and White Bands, Condottieri,
Companies of Adventurers, Free Lances, and German Barbuti.
No matter what may be their names, their objects are the same.
We are old rivals ; only, thank God, my brave fellows are widely
different from the others, who, when not engaged in war, are
nothing better than robbers ; fighting one day for a certain
ruler, and the next day quite willing to cut his throat, provided
they get well paid for it. So distracted, indeed, is this most
unhappy land by dissensions amongst themselves, and devasta-
lions committed by foreign adventurers, that the terrified cul-
tivators of the soil are compelled to live within walled towns.
There is not a city in Italy that is not distracted by faction.
Not even the great pestilence that swept over the whole face of
Europe, cutting off from the earth a third of its population,
was able to check this terrible disunion amongst the princes of
Italy. This very disunion, jealousy, and hatred of one another,
is the cause of the formidable bands you will find dispersed
over the whole of Italy, from north to south. Now, Genoa and
Yenice, amid this turmoil of party and faction, have risen to
eminence, and their nobles and merchants, through commerce,
are the wealthiest in the world. Not that these cities are free
from faction, as you know yourself. Genoa is at times con-
vulsed to its centre. Such is the field, my dear boy, in which
you have to try your fortunes. You are first going to Florence,
and I think it most likely that I shall accept the offer made by
that republic. If not, 1 shall close with the Marquis of Mont-
ferrat's proposals. You see that range of hills marked on this
chart, continued he, taking up one of the maps and pointing
out with his dagger a very dubious line of road across a most
mountainous country, "you must avoid crossing those hills,
added Sir John.  You see, by following the borders of this
river, sticking, as he spoke, his dagger's point into a long
black serpentine mark— you skirt the foot of the hills ; and,
THE BATTLE ON TIIE BOSPHORUS.
0
crossing that ferry—which, by-the-bye, I would for more than
one reason advise you to do—you will pass more than a league
from the camp of a notorious freebooter and his German Barbuti.
 You mean, I suppose, interrupted Paoli,  the German
condottieri leader, Guarnieri ?
 The same, returned the English knight—"Duke Guarnieri,
as the Italians style him. You have heard, then, something of
this scourge of the human race 1 for, in truth, such he is.
"Not much, replied Paoli ; "merely some vague rumours
while passing through Sienna. I heard it said that he and his
troops were urging the Florentine Signori into a breach of the
truce between their republic and the Marquis of Montferrat.
"No. no, you are out there, said Sir John. "But I will
give you a very brief outline of this remarkable but most de-
testable chief's career. We have met once on opposite sides,
and it looks like as if we shall do so again. Duke
Guarnieri is a German by birth. His real name is Werner,
and he comes of a good but impoverished family. In person he
is gigantic. In his youth he is said to have been remarkably
handsome. In early life his character was noted for reck-
less bravery, and an extraordinary skill in the use of almost
every weapon. It seems he wen the love of a very beautiful
maiden, the daughter of a German baron of high descent, and
carried her off. Such was the_rage and vengeance of her power-
ful family that the lovers fled their country. Of his varied
fortune for a long time little is known. Some years ago he
made his appearance in Lombardi under the name of Guarnieri,
and at the head of a most lawless band. Increasing by degrees
his forces, he entered the service of the Lord of Padua. Some
splendid actions, but blasted by the most atrocious cruelties,
soon rendered his name notorious. His vices and detestable
cruelties increased ; his deeds and actions, allowing for exag-
geration, are more the actions of a fiend than a human being.
His wife, Hermangarde, accompanies him everywhere ; and, I
have heard, has saved many a victim from his lawless passions.
He has one son—a greater diable, par excellence, than his sire.
Duke Guarnieri wears a cuirass, on which is engraved in gold
the impious and horrid sentence ' Enemy of God, of Man, and
of Pity.' "*
 Is this possible 1 exclaimed the Corsican, much astonished.
 Fact, my young friend, returned Sir John ;  proud of his
immense strength and stature, confident of the devotion of the
five thousand well-disciplined men he leads, he thinks nothing
of forcing well-fortified cities to pay him ransom. His boast
* See Percival's History of Italy.
10
the sunny south ; or,
is that no man ever yet -withstood him in single combat. Such,
is Duke Guarnieri. Now if he with his band intend—which
the Florentines are apprehensive he does—to traverse their
territories, plundering and devastating, and extorting ransom
from the various towns—we shall take the field in the pay of
Florence. If not, and if he shapes his course towards the
Paduan states, I shall take the offer of the Marquis of Mont-
-ferr at. Therefore, as I was pointing out to you the road, I
think you may as well avoid altogether the encampment of
this Duke Guarnieri. Neither he nor his troop are over-scru-
pulous in levying contributions, whether from travellers or
cities, or strong bodies of aimed pilgrims.
"Well, as there is neither honour nor glory to be obtained,
replied Paoli,  in an encounter with this German freebooter,
I will follow your advice, Sir John. After a few days' stay in
Florence I will proceed to Ravenna, and embark there for
"Venice.
 By St. George, Giacinto ! said the English knight, laughing,
 if you serve long with those amphibious animals, the Vene-
tians, you will forget what a good steed is. However, remem-
ber what I have offered you. Thank the stars, these Italian
princes have a happy knack of quarrelling and fighting their
differences out with any other swords than their own.
The following morning, after a most friendly and affec-
tionate parting with the chivalric and true-hearted Sir
John Hawkwood, Sir Giacinto Paoli and his squire resumed
their journey to Florence.
CHAPTER II.
the rencontre.
The Corsican knight was mounted on a very powerful horse,
of great spirit. In truth, it was necessary he should possess
both spirit and bone to sustain the athletic frame of the rider,
cased in the splendid but heavy armour of the period.
His squire, Pulini, the foster-brother of his father, and who
was most devotedly attached to the son, was a strong muscular
man—in age about forty-six, and extremely well-featured and
skilled in arms, having served with the elder Paoli in many a
battle-field. He was also well-armed and mounted. They con-
tinued their road for some time along the smiling banks of the
Arno, till they reached the ferry. Having crossed the river, they
pursued a well-beaten track as a shorter road by a league to
Bosco. Pulini remonstrated at taking short cuts, but Paoli, re-
marking that the day was intensely hot and that the horses
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORTJS.
11
seemed to suffer, proposed taking a road that ran along the side of
a thick wood, which looked most inviting. They continued their
journey under the shade of the wood, which seemed of great
extent, rising to some height on one part. Round the base of
the hill ran a clear sparkling stream. It was now about noon,
and Paoli, to refresh and rest the horses, determined to halt
for an hour under the shade and relieve them by letting them
graze.
Having dismounted and looked round him, the squire ob~
served, as he took his master's lance,—■
"We have got out of the right track, signor. The old ferry-
man who induced us to cross the stream, by way of a short cut
told us to keep the wood on our right, and the marsh on our
left; and, by St. Anthony, we have, I see, reversed the
direction.
 So I thought, returned Paoli,  when we turned to the left
after passing the myrtle-grove. But it is very little matter ;
the day is long.
Giacinto Paoli rambled up the mount to see if he could gain
a view round its base, When half way up he heard the
tinkling of bells, like those worn around the necks of mules.
The sound came from the right, and seemed below him.
"Doubtless some travellers, thought the knight, pushing
his way through the myrtles till he gained a view down into
a little vale or glen through which the rivulet ran. Beneath
him, scattered over the greensward, was a large party of tra-
vellers, evidently reposing and refreshing themselves. The
group that first attracted his attention was a party of five per-
sons—three females and two males, among whom was an elderly
dame, attired in the travelling costume of the times, her head
divested of the enormous hood then worn. Amusing herself
with adorning this good lady's head was a very young girl, who
was forming wreaths of wild flowers, and, in a playful manner,
placing them on the dame's head.
Paoli was not fifty paces above them, though concealed from
observation by the myrtles. The face of this young maiden,
though she was not more than fifteen, struck him forcibly from
its exquisite loveliness. She was tall for her age ; for, till she
turned her sweet Hebe face towards him, he supposed, from her
graceful figure and height, that she must be at least seventeen
or eighteen years of age.
Giacinto gazed long and thoughtfully upon the fair face of the
maiden; for his young life, passed from his very earliest years
amid the wild strifes of his native land, had afforded but little
time or ease either for the enjoyment of society or the cultivation
of the limited accomplishments of that iron age. Still the Corsi-
12
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OK,
can was ever an admirer of beauty, and, for tlie period in which
he lived, he was an accomplished cavalier ; especially as the
years spent in Pisa, with the Grand Master of the Knights of St.
Stephen, with whom he was a prodigious favourite, were not
always passed in iron mail and in fierce strife.
The young girl was simply attired in white, having thrown
aside a wide mantle and a large Tuscan straw hat. Opposite
the old dame, who seemed to enjoy the young girl's playful
fancy, sat an old, but hale and hearty, cavalero, who seemed to
be intently occupied with the various articles of food spread
out before him.
At a short distance from this party sat another. This latter
consisted of fourteen or fifteen armed retainers, while several
mules, a close litter, and fifteen stout roadsters were picketed
about the vale, cropping the short sweet grass that grew on the
banks of the rivulet.
While Paoli stood leaning against a tree, debating whether
he should descend and accost the party below, his ear caught
the jingling sound of armed riders coming from the other side
of the abrupt hill or mound on which he stood. The party
below also seemed to hear the sound, for the old cavalero laid
down the cup he was drinking from and listened.
Passing to the other side, Paoli gained a spot from which
both sides of the mount were visible. He then perceived the
cause of the sound he had heard, and beheld about twenty
armed riders beneath, watering their horses in the rivulet. By
their arms and the crimson horse-hair flowing from their hel-
mets, he surmised they were German Barbuti.
No Condottieri forces at that period were more superbly
armed than the Barbuti. Over their mail coats of interlaced
chain were cuirasses of highly-polished steel. The cuirasses,
boots, and cuisses were of the same material, and shone equally
with the rest of their bright array.
A little in advance of the troop rode a tall, powerful man,
similarly armed, only that, instead of horse-hair, he wore a
rich plume of crimson feathers in his casque. This cavalero
rode a little in advance, so as to see round the angle of the
mound.
As soon as he perceived the party we have described, he
checked his horse and galloped back to his troop, who were
tightening the girths of their saddles. Some words, which our
hero did not hear, caused them at once to mount and follow
their leader. But before this, Paoli, who guessed some mis-
chief would come of the meeting of the Barbuti and the old
cavalero, turned back to where he had left Pulini, and found
his squire bridling his horse.
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORTJS.
13
 Follow me as fast as yoft can, Pulini, said the knight,
bracing on his casque and grasping his heavy lance. Without
a word more, he galloped off round the mound.
 St. Anthony ! what's the matter now 1  muttered the
squire (who well knew his master's impetuosity), tightening
his own girths and preparing to follow.
In a few moments, Giacinto Paoli had turned the angle of
the hill, his speed being increased by the shouts and cries that
filled the air. As he came into view of the scene, he perceived
that the Barbuti had assaulted the party which had so inte-
rested him. The females were grouped together in terror.
Neither the old cavalero nor his retainers had had time to
mount; but were clustered together, offering but a faint and
certainly most ineffectual resistance to the mounted German
freebooters. The loud shout of the Corsican knight, as he
urged his strong horse to full speed, attracted at once the notice
of the leader of the troop, who, turning round, lowered his
lance, and spurred his steed to meet this fresh antagonist. He
rode a heavy, though singularly powerful, German horse ; but
his opponent, celebrated for his power and skill with the lance,
met him in full career; and though Paoli was shaken in his
seat, and his horse staggered with the shock, he bore his
assailant to the earth, with a mortal stroke of his lance through
the neck, crashing with irresistible force through chain and
mail.
Astounded and paralyzed by the fall of their leader—for he
lay without the slightest motion on the sod—the Barbuti
drew back, while several sprang from their horses and raised
the fallen man ; but life was quite extinct. The rest, with
shouts of rage, hastened to revenge his death. By this time
Pulini had arrived, sword in hand ; and the old cavalero's men,
taking advantage of the pause, hurried to their horses, mounted,
and hastened to assist the knight. But Paoli had by this
time dropped his lance, and, seizing his heavy battle-axe, beat
one of the foremost of the Barbuti from his horse. Seconded
bravely by his squire, they stood the brunt of the assault till
the old cavalero and his followers rode up. The Barbuti then
demanded a parley, finally consenting to retire if they should
be permitted to carry off the body of their leader and their
wounded comrades. They seemed to regard the power of the
Corsican knight with surprise and rage, but evidently felt no
desire to renew the strife.
Giacinto Paoli willingly acceded to this ; and, making the
request of the Barbuti known to the party, the old cavalero
also assented.
Some of the troop then dismounted, and the body of their
14
THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR,
leader, wrapped in a large mantle, being placed upon his
horse, and the wounded assisted to remount, the whole party,
without exchanging a word with their victors, rode slowly
from the scene of their late contention.
No sooner had the Barbuti disappeared round the angle of
the mound than the old cavalero turned towards the Corsican,
who had dismounted, and was examining his steed.
 A thousand thanks, Sir Knight, said he,  for your most
opportune and gallant assistance. You have rescued yonder
dear girl from the clutches of that incarnate fiend, Ludovico
Guarnieri.
 Guarnieri!  echoed Paoli, with a start of astonishment.
"Even so, returned the signor, gazing with surprise upon
the youthful features of the Corsican, who just then had
raised his visor.  But we must away, Sir Knight. I will
explain as we ride. You have slain, per Bacco, with a single
thrust of your lance, one of the greatest pests in Italy, and
accounted one of its best lances.
"Then I have slain the son of Duke Guarnieri—Corpo di
mondi !  muttered Paoli, as he followed the stranger towards
the ladies.  It is remarkable, notwithstanding Sir John's pre-
caution, that I should have actually stumbled upon the party
I was endeavouring to avoid.
The old dame, now somewhat recovered from her terror, and
assisted by the young maiden, on whom the eyes of Giacinto
Paoli were bent with increased admiration, advanced to thank
their deliverer. Both started back, equally surprised at seeing
their rescuer so very young, his powerful and athletic frame,
cased in mail, betokening a much more advanced age.
The old dame uttered her thanks with much feeling and
emotion ; but we much doubt if the sweet smile of the blush-
ing girl, who held forth her taper fingers, which the Corsican
pressed respectfully to his lips, and which brought the bright
blood of the maiden to her cheeks and temples, was not a
much richer reward than the eloquent harangue of the old dame.
The stranger, having now harnessed the horses to the litter,
and arranged everything in order to resume their journey,
approached, saying,—
"I trust, Sir Knight, we ride the same road. We journey
to Livorno.
 It grieves me to say, returned Paoli,  that my direction
is Florence.
The stranger looked disappointed, but said,—
 Our road lies for nearly a league the same. You have
strayed from your course, if, as I imagine, you came from
Pisa.
the battle on the bosphoeus.
15
 I thought as much, replied the Corsicaxi, as he mounted
and rode on by the side of the old cavalero, who became very
communicative.
He said his name was Sir Conrad Tolosino—that the old
dame was his spouse, and the young maiden a distant relative
committed to his care—that stopping for a week to recruit his
spouse's strength, after a long journey, at Bosco, Ludovico
Guarnieri, who happened to helt there with his troop, beheld,
by chance, his charge Agnes. This Ludovico was notorious
for his profligacy, and his outrageous violation of the laws,
which he set at defiance. He made several attempts while at
Bosco to intrude upon the privacy of the old cavalero's retreat;
but as there was a strong body of Florentine men-at-arms
there, the leader of which was an old friend of Sir Conrad,
Ludovico found it better to desist, and leave Bosco ; and the
old knight thought he had got rid of him. But the German
secretly watched his prey, and would undoubtedly have carried
off the maiden but for the unlooked-for assistance of the Cor-
sican.
In a short time, the party reached the spot where their
roads separated. The old knight and the two ladies took a
friendly and grateful leave of their deliverer, Sir Conrad,
hoping, if ever he passed within ten leagues of the Castle of
Averni, which lay within a league of Livorno, that he would
remember that it belonged to one who would ever consider
himself his debtor.
The old dame gave him her hand to kiss ; and it was re-
marked, afterwards, by the sly attendant of the young maiden,
who also rode within the litter, that there was a marvellous
difference between the kiss the Corsican bestowed upon the
young maiden's fair hand, and that with which he favoured
the hand of the ancient lady.
CHAPTER III.
dtike guarnieri.
The Corsican and his attendant, after their separation from
Sir Conrad's party, pursued their journey for nearly a' league
m silence. The young knight was buried in thought—the
image of the youthful Agnes was not likely to be forgotten;
and he pictured to himself her beautiful and sylph-like form,
rounded into womanhood, and brought to perfection by the
passing of two or three years.
-Very different were the ruminations of his squire, who was
inwardly congratulating himself upon their safe extrication
from a contest into which he had followed his master with
16
THE SUNN*: SOUTII ; OR,
very little hope of victory—when he beheld the band of armed
men whom his master had so madly, and without reason, as
he conceived, attacked ; for Pulini was not aware of Sir Con-
rad's party being the cause of the contest.
In the midst of the squire's self congratulations, he was
rather startled by hearing the sound of armed riders coming
from behind.
Looking back, he perceived *a cloud of dust in their rear
rapidly approaching. With some vague apprehension of dan-
ger he rode to the side of his master, saying,—
 There are armed riders behind, signor, coming up at a rapid
pace.
"Travellers like ourselves, doubtless, returned the knight,
carelessly; "and if you look before you you will perceive a
cloud of dust likewise. Recollect this is the public road be-
tween Florence and Pisa.
 By all the saints, signor ! anxiously exclaimed Pulini,
 we are beset. The fellows are Barbuti.
The knight cast a look behind ; and true enough he now
beheld a troop of German Barbuti, amounting to more than
thirty men, very leisurely advancing towards them.
 It's as well to be prepared, exclaimed Paoli, pulling down
the visor of his casque and grasping the lance Pulini held.
 They may be only a party returning to the camp of their
leader.
 Signor, for the love of the Virgin, and by your hopes of
ever serving our unhappy country, do not dream of forcing
your way through such a force. We are caught in a snare—
they are Barbuti coming down the road in our front.''
The squire was right; for another troop of Germans rode
rapidly towards them; and in another moment Paoli and his
squire were surrounded by a troop of above sixty men-at-arms.
Rash and headstrong as the Corsican was at times, he
nevertheless checked his steed, and, throwing up his visor,
quietly demanded of the leader of the band, who rode forward
from the rest, the reason of his road being obstructed.
The German very coolly replied—they had orders from their
leader, Duke Guarnieri, to bring the slayers of his noble son,
dead or alive, into his presence.
 It remains with yourself, Sir Knight, quietly added the
German, with a grim smile,  which way you prefer being pre-
sented to our chief.
The fiery blood of the Corsican knight flew to his cheek and
temples at the threatening manner of the German, but resist-
ance would have been madness. So, making a virtue of neces-
sity, he said,—
SHE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHOllUS.
17
"You leave me no alternative. Lead on ; I will follow you.
Though what your leader 
 Der Teufle, Sir Knight!  interrupted the Barbuti,  you
take it easy. I suppose you imagine the Duke wishes to thank
you for slaying his only son, to save a puny damsel from a sup-
posed insult.
 Lead on, sir, retorted Paoli, with an angry frown.  I
will answer your chief, and not bandy words with you.
Having taken his sword and other arms, the knight and his
squire were placed in the middle of the troop, and then their
horses were urged into a smart trot.
Our hero's thoughts were by no means pleasant. Having
heard the character of Guarnieri from Sir John Hawkwood, he
could expect nought but a stormy interview with the furious
Duke. He regretted slaying his son ; but, had he not done so,
he would probably have lost his own life. He had only done
his duty in assisting Sir Conrad Tolosino ; he was bound in all
honour to do so ; and he was not expected to know that the
cavalero who met him so furiously in the onset was Duke Guar-
nieri's son ; and even had he known it it would not in the least
have altered his intention.
Branching off from the main road, they pursued a bridle-path,
and after an hour's ride they came in view of Duke Guarnieri's
encampment, which spread over a large extent of ground.
Passing the outposts, they halted in the midst of the tents, and
on alighting were surrounded by hundreds of fierce-looking
Barbuti. Pulini looked serious and somewhat dismayed, though
he only considered his master would be held to ransom.
 Now, Sir Knight, follow me, said the officer who com-
manded the troop that had captured Paoli ;  you, Sir Squire,
go with that page ; he will take care of you, he added, with a
grim smile.
Without uttering a word, Paoli followed the German to the
entrance of an immense tent, before which paced a sentinel. It
was now quite dusk, and, as the Barbuti threw back the folds
of the tent, our hero perceived it was lighted within.
 Enter, Sir Knight, said the German, with a malignant
leer,  and any questions you may wish to ask will meet with a
ready and quick answer.
With nerves braced to meet the worst, Paoli entered the ten t
glancing with anxiety and curosity over the wide space within,
which was hung with scarlet drapery, and ornamented here and
there by groups of arms and armour. Prom the summit swung
a brass lamp with four lights in it. The first object, however,
that particularly attracted his attention was the body of Ludo-
vico Guarnieri, still in his armour, stretched in the^ rigidity of
B
18
THE STONY SOUTH ; OR,
death upon an oaken table in the centre of the tent. From
the dead body of the son, Paoli raised his eyes to the motion-
less, statue-like form of Duke Guarnieri. It was impossible to
mistake his remarkable and majestic figure, which seemed
scarcely to breathe, as he stood with his right hand resting on
a ponderous battle-axe, while his dark piercing eyes were fixed
in terrible meaning upon the youthful face and unshrinking
gaze of the Corsican.
Guarnieri was cased in complete mail, excepting the casque :
his cuirass bore the fearful inscription that has handed down
to posterity a name hateful for the atrocities committed under
it, in defiance of God and all human laws.
The Duke seemed evidently struck with the youthful look of
his captive, contrasted with a figure and frame which even be-
side his own gigantic figure was remarkable for its noble pro-
portions.
 They tell me, Sir Knight, at length uttered the Duke—
 for I see you are of knightly rank—that you met my son,
fairly and without vantage, with the lance, and that you slew
him. Now, I say, the villains lie.
 Sir Duke, returned the Corsican calmly, though his cheek
was flushed,  they spoke the truth. I took no vantage of your
son.
 'Tis false, furiously interrupted the Duke.  Ludovico
Guarnieri never fell by the thrust of a lance, met fairly man to
man. There lives not the man who could slay my son thus.
 Yet such was the case, Sir Duke.
 False Italian, you lie!  roared Guarnieri, in a voice of
thunder.  And for the accursed foul deed you have this day
done, you die—and by the hand of the father.
Grasping his huge axe, he was lifting it from the ground,
when Paoli tore a weapon from the pillars and prepared to
defend his life to the last. Suddenly the drapery across the
tent was cast aside, and a female rushed forward and threw
herself on the uplifted arm of the Duke.
 Stay your hand, my lord, I implore you !  exclaimed she,
in a voice inexpressibly soft and sweet.  Not here—not in
cold blood, my lord! strike an unarmed captive ! Nay, she
imploringly added, as the Duke strove to free his arm from her
grasp— nay, for the love I have borne you through years of a
stormy life, stain not your hand with the blood of a helpless
captive.
Giacinto Paoli stood in silent wonder and deep interest.
 Can it be possible, he thought to himself, as he looked
with admiration, and even reverence, upon the striking form of
Hermengarde, the Duke's consort—"can it be possible that
THE BATTLE OK THE BOSPHORUS.
19
one so steeped in crime, so acted upon by furious passions, can
retain the love of a woman thus animated by the noblest
impulses ?
As Hermengarde ceased speaking, she leant her pale and
marble brow against the iron-clad breast of her terrible hus-
band. She appeared to shudder as she touched the steel which
bore the fearful inscription on its surface. The arm of the
Duke slowly relaxed its hold of the battle-axe, and the expression
of his features softened, as he gazed down into the face of his
sorely-tried spouse. Gently raising her head from his breast,
he whispered some low words in her ear, and, taking her by the
hand, led her to the curtain, behind which, drawing it aside,
Hermengarde retired.
The Duke turned back, and looking the Corsican calmly in
the face, said,—
 Had I slain you, Sir Knight, where you now stand, I should
only have done that which any other father would do to him
who deprived him of his only child. You have slain my son ;
whether by fair means or foul it now matters not. His body
lies there before his father's sight, a lifeless mass of clay. I
want not to hear of your mad notions of chivalry and knight-
hood. These are times when a man's sword has quite enough to
do to serve its master, and not thrust itself, uncalled for, into
other's quarrels. You cannot know what a father feels. But
the deed is done ; I trust to avenge my son's death.
 Be it so, Sir Duke, returned Paoli.  I fear no man in a
just cause. I have, unfortunately, slain your son ; but the act
was one of self defence. Let me then stand before you in my
knightly harness, and to God I leave the judgment.
A mocking laugh escaped the Duke's lips as he struck a steel
cuirass suspended to one of the pillars of the tent with his
gauntlet. Two esquires entered the tent.
"Take this signor, said the Duke, "and on your lives be his
safe keepers. Let him have food and wine, and restore to him
his arms. To-morrow, at sunrise, Sir Knight, he aided,
turning to Paoli,  I meet you in the field ; and if, after the
expiration of one turn of the glass, you should be still alive,
you are free.
And waving his hand, the two esquires hurried Paoli from
the tent.
B 2
20
the stjnny south or,
CHAPTER IY.
the combat.
Considerably astonished at the termination of an interview
that had threatened his life so nearly, Giacinto Paoli followed
the two squires from the pavilion, passing through groups of
wondering Barbuti, till they came to the entrance of a tent
before which a sentry was stationed.
To his infinite joy, our hero beheld within the tent his squire
Pulini, whose delight was great at again beholding his young
master.
Here the squires left the knight without uttering a single
word.
While Giacinto was giving the amazed Pulini an account of
his interview with the Duke, a young page entered the tent,
carrying a salver stored with refreshment. He was a very fair
and handsome boy, with a melancholy cast of feature.
 Sir Knight, said the youth, placing the salver upon the
table,  a solitary chance of life has been given you. It is,
alas ! a poor one, strong and powerful as you look. The same
chance has been given to others ; but in half the time allowed
they ceased to breathe. But you are stronger of limb and
stouter of heart than any I have yet seen contend with our
leader. My mistress desires not your death, though you have
killed her son. Ah, Sir Knight, if you but knew the kind, soft
woman's heart our Duchess has, you would wonder "—and the
page spoke in a very low tone— how so fiendish a spirit could
exist in a son of hers. But, as I said, you have one chance of
life. In your contest with the Duke, make no manner of
attempt to hurt or wound him, even if it were possible that such
an event could occur. Our leader's favourite weapon is the
battle-axe. Prolong the fight if you can, but beware how you
receive one single blow. No man ever required a second.
Farewell, Sir Knight! From my heart I wish you well quit of
this, in truth, terrible trial; for, as my mistress said, your peril
arises from your having protected her sex, and your death
could not restore her son to life.
 Thanks, fair page, said our hero,  both for your wish and
your advice. Bear, I beseech you, my deep gratitude to your
noble lady. Sorry am I, to the heart, that my hand was forced
to do a deed that has brought affliction and sorrow to her gentle
heart.
THE BAT TEE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
21
When the page retired Pulini, who had listened with great
interest, exclaimed,—
 Now by the mass, signor, this is a good turn of fortune.
The false pride of this cursed Duke, if his plighted word is to
be depended on, will win you the contest. Neither his gigantic
height, nor his infernal battle-axe, will give him the victory, if
you, signor, will only keep your temper and be content to stand,
as the page said, on the defensive. His enormous axe
will weary him, while your activity will defeat his brute
strength.
Pulini spoke cheerfully, for he knew his master's extraordi-
nary power and skill, but he dreaded his fiery temper.
Paoli felt no fear whatever, nor, indeed, much anxiety. He
lived in an iron age, where existence was hourly risked, and
from his cradle to manhood his life had been one of peril.
 Come, Pulini, this wine and food are not to be despised.
We have eaten nothing since morning, and there is no fighting
with an empty stomach. You see, after all, his Satanic ma-
jesty is not quite so black as he is represented.
So, dividing with his dagger a very tempting pasty, he
commenced satisfying the cravings of an exceedingly healthy
appetite. Pulini, having done the same, proceeded to dis-
arm his master, in order to examine each rivet and strap of
his armour.
While the squire was thus busy, Paoli paced the narrow
limits of his tent, immersed in thought. Amidst the many
images and ideas that floated before his mind's eye was
that of the lovely stranger, whose name he had heard was
Agnes. But, Agnes what 1—he knew not.
"I shall never behold her again, thought Giacinto, "and
perhaps it is better it should be so, as I have little besides
my sword to win my way to fortune. An exile from my be-
loved country, deprived of kindred and home, my country-
men groaning under the oppression of an iron rule, with,
alas ! scarcely any hope of casting off the cruel yoke binding
them.
Such, and many more equally painful thoughts, tormented
the young knight for a time, till his squire persuaded him to
seek a few hours' repose on a simple couch of dried rushes and
fern spread in one corner of the tent. Upon this he threw
himself ; and, notwithstanding his thoughts and the trial of
the morrow before him, fell into a sound sleep, from which he
was roused by the entrance of one of the Duke's squires,
who was greatly surprised at the Corsican knight being able
to enjoy sleep when he considered his life not worth an hour's
purchase.
22
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
Placing Paoli's sword and battle-axe on the table, the
squire said,—
 My lord will be ready for the contest in half an hour,
and desires to know if you require any other weapon.
 Tell your master I thank him, returned the knight,
taking up, with evident pleasure, his own good sword.  This
has served me long and faithfully. It is a plain weapon, but
none better was ever held in the hand of a soldier. As soon as
I arm, I shall be ready for your master.
The squire retired with a significant smile on his features,
while Pulini, looking serious and thoughtful, began arming
his young master.
Paoli hastily broke his fast from the materials of the last
night's meal, and, drinking a cup of wine, was quite ready
when the Duke's squire returned, requesting him to follow.
Pulini took up his master's battle-axe and accompanied them,
no notice whatever being taken of his proceedings.
It was a bright and glorious day, and the sun, as it rose
above the hills that backed the camp of Guarnieri, threw a
flood of brilliant light into the vale below, and upon the steel-
clad forms of countless men.
The young knight followed his guide through several ranks
of silent soldiers, who, ranged in regular order, were drawn up
to witness one of those sights which their leader was so proud
of exhibiting to them. They were evidently struck with the
noble bearing and fine stature of the Corsican, whose calm
and handsome features, and glowing cheek, showed no signs of
uneasiness.
Courage and gallant deeds in that iron age always com-
manded respect, even from the rudest breast. Excepting by
his own personal squires and followers, Ludovico Guarnieri
had been much disliked. Equally cruel and ferocious as his
sire, he failed to win the love of the fierce Barbuti, for his
nature was grasping and avaricious ; and he manifested a
proud and haughty indifference towards his men. His father,
on the contrary, with all his vices, was lavish and profuse,
fairly and affably sharing any spoil with his meanest soldier.
Proud of his skill and extraordinary strength, he always joined
in the rough sports of his men, defeating with ease any four
of the strongest amongst them in any feats requiring bodily
power.
Therefore, as the Corsican knight passed along the iron ranks
of the Barbuti, not a few of them secretly wished that he might
be able to prolong the combat the turning of a glass. As to
any injury to their chief, they thought that quite impossible.
A wide space was left encircled by the troops ; and in the
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHOBUS.
23
middle of this stood Duke Guarnieri, leaning on his immense
battle-axe. Near him was the fair-faced page, holding a half-
hour glass.
To say that Giacinto's heart did not beat somewhat quicker
when he beheld the majestic figure of his antagonist, cased
from head to heel in his impenetrable proof mail, would be
scarcely possible. Still he was perfectly self-possessed. The
visor of the Duke's helmet was up ; and his dark and vengeful
glance rested upon the features of our hero with a terrible look
of hatred and revenge.
A perfect silence reigned amid the thousands looking on.
The Duke, approaching close to his antagonist, and speaking
sufficiently loud for every individual around to hear his words,
said,—
 You are, I understand, a knight honourable of the order of
San Stefano, therefore an antagonist worthy of my arm : that
your brethren may hereafter hear that you received fair and
honourable terms, I now ask whether you have any demand to
make before we begin this duel. I have plighted my word,
and I now repeat it—that if you survive after the sand of that
glass has run out, you are free to leave my camp. It is just
that a father should revenge his son's death ; therefore I
challenge you. And that it may not hereafter be said that
Guarnieri forced his captive to stand up to be slaughtered, I
leave you now the choice to quit my camp unscathed, bearing
with you a father's curse and a coward's name.
Every word the Duke uttered was clear and distinct; and
though his eyes flashed with passion, and Paoli could see that
the hand that rested on his battle-axe shook with emotion,
yet his voice was sonorous and clear as a bell.
As he ceased speaking, a murmur of applause rose from
amidst the ranks.
 I have but one request to make, Sir Duke, replied the
Corsican ;  and that is, that my squire may be permitted—>
should it be my fate to fall in the combat—to quit your camp
unmolested. As to your offer that I may leave it without
meeting you in this duel, I utterly reject and scorn it; not
from the fear of coward being attached to the name of a Knight
of St, Stefano ; for, thank God, I have established too good a
character amongst my brethren to be tarnished by refusing a
contest even with Duke Guarnieri. You have forcibly taken
me captive, contrary to all law ; and for this act I now defy
you before your assembled troops. I came not here to comply
with your terms and gratify your pride by an empty pageant.
I defy you to mortal combat, and let him who first draws
blood be the victor, to do as he thinks fit with the vanquished.'
24
THE SUNNY SOUTII ; OR,
 Madman ! almost roared the easily excited Duke,  I
accept your conditions. Then, with a mocking laugh, he
turned to his men.  You hear this fool-hardy and mad
knight. For certain reasons, I gave him a chance of life. He
despises it, and defies me. And by the power he adores, he
dies. Begone, boy !  he exclaimed to the page ; and, closing
the visor of his casque with an angry gesture, he stepped a
pace back and grasped his battle-axe.
Pulini's heart sank within him.  I knew it, he mur-
mured to himself;  his haughty spirit has revolted against
the idea of owing his life to mere artifice. Ah ! Saint Anthony,
the race of the Paolis, I fear me, perishes !—for that incarnate
fiend will never spare him, even if he should first draw blood.
In the meantime Paoli carefully closed his visor and
grasped his sword, one of great weight and exquisite temper.
And then commenced a combat between two men much
better matched than any one present could surmise. Paoli's
chief object was to avoid a direct blow from so terrible a
weapon as the Duke fought with. Infinitely more active, and
wielding a weapon much less fatiguing, the Corsican for several
moments baffled every effort of the Duke to bring down his
axe on his casque. Then, indeed, it became very evident to
the soldiers assembled that had the combat depended on the
turning of a half-hour glass, Paoli could easily have prolonged
the time.
The young page had not retired more than a few paces from
the combatants, and stood watching the fight with intense
anxiety. Baffled and astounded, Guarnieri began to lose his
self-possession. As yet our hero had struck no blow. The
Duke, though perfectly unwearied, was getting furious, for he
struck with greater rapidity, forcing Paoli at times to inter-
pose his sword—which he did, however, with great caution.
At length a blow, partly stopped by the Corsican's sword-,
alighted sideways upon his casque, tearing away crest and
plume, and causing Giacinto to stagger under its force.
A murmur now ran through the ranks ; and Pulini involun-
tarily advanced a step or two. The Duke uttered a savage
oath, and pressed on his antagonist fiercely, and somewhat
unwarily ; for Paoli's blood was roused, and, for the first time,
he struck the Duke a tremendous blow full upon the side of
his casque, causing him to stagger back a pace or two. The
Barbuti were amazed ; and before Guarnieri, who grasped his
axe with both hands, could recover his guard, a second blow
severed the fastenings of his casque, leaving his head unpro-
tected, and inflicting a gash, though slight, on his neck, from
which the blood spirted over his mail.
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORBS.
25
When he saw the blood Giacinto Paoli drew back. But
Guarnieri, frantic with rage and disappointed vengeance, and
forgetful of his plighted word, had grasped his axe, and was
rushing forward, when the young page, receiving a sign from
some unseen hand, darted forward, exclaiming,—
 Your plighted word! your plighted word, my Lord Duke !
And, pale as death, he sank upon his knees.
 Ah, accursed meddler and fool!  roared the Duke ;  do
you dare to stay my hand 1 take your reward.
The next instant the brains of the unfortunate page would
have been dashed out, had not the sword of Paoli turned the
stroke aside. The weapon was broken in several pieces, but
the page was saved.
Quick as thought, the Duke turned like a baited bull; and
again raising his axe, with a horrid laugh, shouted,—
 Now die ! _ Accursed Italian, die ! 
But quicker even than his words was the spring Pulini made
to the side of the furious Duke, interposing his master's battle-
axe between the descending weapon and the unshrinking Cor-
sican. The blow beat the axe from the squire's hand, knock-
ing him senseless at his master's feet. The temper of his head-
piece alone saved his life.
All was now confusion ; for a universal shout from the Bar-
buti of "Your word, Duke! Your plighted word, Duke!
Blood has been drawn !  filled the air.
Heedless of all, Paoli kneeled down, and supported the head
of his faithful squire who, fortunately, was only stunned ;
while Guarnieri stood as if changed into a statue, the foam of
rage covering his lips, and the unchecked blood from the gash
in his neck running down his cuirass in front.
 Begone from my camp!  at last burst from the livid lips
of the infuriated German.  Some sorcery has aided your
arm. But begone, while yet I can restrain my rage, for, by
Heaven, if you stand before me yet another minute, I will put
you to a death of torture !
What our hero might have replied we know not; but many
of the Barbuti, with the father of the fair page whose life he
had saved—one of the Duke's officers—interposed, and actually
forced the Knight and his squire from the spot. The Duke
remained standing there, as if in a dream.
 Sir Knight, said the father of the page, leading our hero
from the field, "you are a brave and gallant man—you saved
my poor boy's life, and your own would have been sacrificed
by the act; for once his blood is shed, our leader loses his
reason. Yours was a rash and daring defiance, but you are
saved. They are saddling your horses. If you will accept
26
THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR,
this rough weapon, offering his own iron-hilted blade,  till
you get a better, you will gratify me.
Paoli thanked the rough, but grateful German ; and, seeing
their horses brought forth, and Pulini able to mount, he lost no
more time in words; but, thanking Providence internally for his
most unlooked-for escape—for, in truth, he scarcely expected
it—he threw himself on his horse. As he did so, the fair page
of Hermengarde pressed to his side, and, taking his hand,
kissed it, saying, in a very low voice,—
 Do not take the road to Florence—you will be waylaid by
Hugo de Hermstadd, the squire, and most devoted of all Ludo-
vico's personal followers.
 Thanks, gentle boy, returned Paoli, as he kissed his open
brow. Then shaking the hard hand of the German officer, he
spurred his steed up the ascent from the camp of Guarnieri, and
soon came out on a bridle-road, which he was told would lead him
into the great Florentine thoroughfare to Livorno, their port,
at that period, for the outlet of their rapidly-increasing com-
merce.
Pulini, though still smarting under the effect of the stunning
blow he had received—not from the battle-axe of the furious
Guarnieri, for that would have been death—but from the
handle of the weapon he had interposed to save his master's
life—which, beaten back, had struck him down, was overjoyed
at finding his master clear of the German camp, alive and
unhurt.
Paoli himself felt elated, though anxious that his squire
should not over-exert himself. Accordingly, instead of pur-
suing the road to Florence, he took the way to Bosco, a fortified
town belonging to the Florentines, distant only a league. There
he resolved to remain for a couple of days.
CHAPTER Y.
the brothers.
About fifteen miles to the eastward of Bastia, in Corsica, lies
the very singular and picturesque island of Capraja. Though,
viewed from a distance, it appears nothing more than a dark
speck upon the wide waters that encircle it, and though only
about fifteen miles in circumference, it yet has a most spacious
and safe harbour; and its single town, containing, at the period
of our story, above three thousand five hundred inhabitants,
belonged to a Corsican family of the name of Damari. At the
time of the first invasion of Corsica, the race of Damari pos-
sessed considerable property in the island; but Corsica being
THE BATTIiE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
27
conquered, their fiefs were seized ; and the last male branch
of the Damaris, Filippo Guiseppe, Marchese Damari, then a
very young man—stripped of his Corsican fiefs—fled to Capraja,
the last of his feudal tenures. But the limits of this little
island being too confined for the taste of the young Marchese,
he passed over into Italy, and joined the Crusaders. After
spending five years in Palestine, he returned to Italy, married
the wealthy heiress of a Siennese noble, and intended to fix his
residence on the peninsula. But some years after the great
pestilence broke out, and soon spread over the fair fields of the
South with an appalling spirit of desolation. Every one fled ;
amongst the rest the Crusader and his bride, who sought, in
their little neglected fief of Capraja, a refuge from the plague,
which was sweeping from the earth a third of its inhabitants.
The young wife, of a retiring and quiet disposition, was de-
lighted with the romantic beauties of this truly singular
isle, and pleased with the society of the few Corsican signori
who had retired there with their families to breathe the air of
freedom, so dear to them.
The island was totally inaccessible, except in front of the
town, which was seated on the land-locked bay that formed its
harbour. The Marchese, resolving to defend this last strong-
hold of Corsica from the Genoese, should they attempt its sub-
jugation, built the fortress protecting the narrow entrance to
the harbour, also one or two towers, as look-outs, in elevated
situations.
After nineteen years of wedded life, the Crusader became a
widower, with two sons, and, six years subsequently, he followed
his beloved consort. His eldest son, Guiseppe, was at that
period five-and-twenty; and Bartolomeo,the youngest, eighteen
years of age. Never were two brothers more dissimilar in dis-
position, and yet both were amiable and much loved by the
little community of Capraja. Guiseppe, who succeeded to the
title and property of his father, was of a somewhat singular
and eccentric disposition ; his thoughts or his wishes never
roamed beyond the narrow limits of his island ; he courted its
solitude ; he loved every foot of ground within its boundaries ;
he was proud of his long line of unblemished descent; but his
pride never gave offence, for he was kind and liberal to those
about him. For the period in which he lived, he was sin-
gularly learned, and passed much of his time in a costly
library procured from Rome, containing many valuable manu-
scripts.
Bartolomeo, the younger, was the reverse of his brother.
Having a social disposition, and an ardent mind, he panted to
see the world; and though he loved his brother dearly, he felt
23
THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR,
that the little island and its simple inhabitants formed too
narrow a circle for his buoyant and change-loving disposition.
He had imbibed some of his brother's taste for reading ; but
in how different a manner was that taste directed ! Barto-
lomeo perused with avidity the chronicles of Venice, Florence,
and Pisa ; he read of the wealth and energy of their merchant
nobles; of their settlements in the East; their colonies ; the
stores of wealth gained by honourable traffic, and the vast
benefits their people derived from their daring enterprises.
Bartolomeo would sometimes converse with his brother on
those subjects ; but the latter curled his lip with scorn at the
mention of commerce—those  slaves of gold, as he styled the
merchants of Venice, Pisa, and Florence. The younger Damari,
on the contrary, designated them as men befitting mankind by
their industry and speculation—spreading knowledge and arts
amongst their countrymen—creating a bustling, happy, and
cheerful population—and, in the end, raising monuments of
power and splendour, which the lapse of ages have not, as yet,
had the power to destroy.
The Marchese Damari married the exiled daughter of a
noble Corsican, who had sought refuge on the island. The
Marchesa was young, handsome, amiable, and Bartolomeo re-
joiced in his brother's happiness. But he lost his cheerfulness,
and, without a companion, would roam about the island for
hours, his eyes being fixed upon the blue hills of distant Italy.
 I cannot, he would exclaim, as his gaze rested on these
hills— I cannot pass a whole life here. It is impossible.
Capraja is too still, too tranquil and monotonous. Every day
is but the repetition of the past. No change—no bustle of
active life. I will tell Guiseppe that I must seek my fortune
on a foreign soil.
And Bartolomeo did speak his wishes to Guiseppe. The
Marchese looked mournfully in his brother's face for a time
before he spoke. And then he said all a kind and affectionate
brother could say to dissuade Bartolomeo from his projects—
but in vain.
 A Damari turn to the paltry trade of buying and selling,
God knows what ! exclaimed the Marchese.
 Nay, Guiseppe, said Bartolomeo, with spirit,  the nobles
of Liguria and of Pisa think it no disgrace that their galleys,
loaded with the produce of other climes, bring them wealth,
and enable them to erect habitations fit for princes. What
was Venice, till her commerce and her industry made her all
glorious as she is 1
But Guiseppe, like his sire, the Crusader, was an enemy to
trade : he was not to be convinced. He made no reply to his
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
29
brother, but left the room. In a few minutes, however, he re-
turned, and laid upon the table two weighty bags of gold, with
a written order for a large sum on a wealthy merchant in
Pisa.
 There, my beloved brother, said he, solemnly but affec-
tionately,  there is twice the portion left you by our good
father. Should you require it, Bartolomeo, you can have as
much more. Take it, and thy elder brother s blessing. But
one thing I must request ; namely, that while your foot rests
upon the soil of the Continent, the name of Damari must be
forgotten. Any other will do, he added, somewhat bitterly,
 any other will do to be plundered, deceived, and"—he
paused ; then added, more kindly,  but not disgraced. Go,
brother! And should you become destitute or friendless, re-
member you have, if he lives, an affectionate brother, and, in
Capraja, always a home.
The brothers parted.
The young adventurer landed on the Continent of Italy, pro-
ceeded to Pisa, and lodged his money in the famous bank of
that city.
It is not our intention, nor is it necessary, to follow the for-
tunes of the young Caprese at this period of our story. We
shall meet him again when age had tempered and calmed the
enthusiasm of his disposition. He had proved that the world
was not all smiles, but had a fair proportion of frowns. Still,
he had not quarrelled with it, but, even after middle age, had
yet to learn and to feel its worst trials. We leave him now,
and return to Giacinto Paoli, who was proceeding on his jour-
ney to Venice about twenty-six years after Bartolomeo Damari's
departure from Capraja.
CHAPTER VI.
THE VENETIAN MERCHANT.
To avoid a long and tedious journey, Paoli proceeded to Rimini;
and, having disposed of his steeds, hired a small speronella to
carry him and his squire to Venice.
The voyage up the Adriatic—that most uncertain of all seas
as to storms and calms—was, however, prosperous ; and the
third day he came within sight of the sea-girt city—the
Adriatic Queen. The wind had been extremely light the whole
day ; and as the speronella cautiously threaded her course
through the narrow and intricate lagunes, the knight and his
squire had full leisure to contemplate a scene truly unequalled
for singularity and splendour.
30
ME STONY SOtTTH J 05ft,
On the walls of the then noble arsenal of Venice, the stall-
dard of the Lion—■
 Which through fire
And blood she bore o'er subject earth and sea, *
blew out proudly in the gentle breeze. There stood the city
on its hundred iStes, with its domes, spires, towers, pillars, and
palaces—its lake-like sea, covered with innumerable merchant
craft of every size and rig then known. As the speronella
glided past the arsenal, the busy hum of the workmen, the
clank of iron, and the creaking of the vast cranes, fell dis-
tinctly on the ear. At that period, three thousand workmen
were employed in the arsenal. What would be the sensations
of a Dandolo or a Faliero could either of those doges rise from
his tomb and cast a momentary glance, in these days, upon the
scene of their former pride and triumph ? Alas ! the name of
Venice alone remains, and the memory of the glorious past.
The speronella came to an anchor ; and, in less than an hour,
Paoli and his squire, with his mails, were landed at an hostel-
leria called the Dalmatian Arms.
On the following morning, Giacinto desired Pulini to hail a
gondola, as it was his intention to visit his father's early and
well-beloved friend. Giacinto had passed but a very sleepless
night: he had much to reflect on : he was young, and the world
was before him ; and he possessed sufficient funds to enable
him to live—without risking his independence. He did not
doubt of a kind reception from the Venetian merchant, of
whose disposition and generosity of heart he had heard much
from his father. He had seen him once—-just before he quitted
the College of Pisa ; and he felt perfectly satisfied he should
remember the Venetian. Would he remember him 1 Eight
or nine years make but little alteration in the appearance of a
man of middle age ; but the sudden springing of youth into
manhood is a change indeed.
Placing upon his finger the ring bestowed by the merchant
on his father, Giacinto prepared for his visit.
 There is a young gondolier dwelling in this house, signor,
who is ready to attend you, said Pulini, returning.  Our
host speaks highly of him ; but, in sooth, his honest and intel-
ligent face is as good a character as one would wish ''
"Are you beginning to study the human countenance,
Pulini ? asked Paoli with a smile, "though your first reading
was a failure. You remember you said if ever there was a fel-
low inclined to do a black act, that Barbuti called Red Werter
'* Byron.
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORtrs.
31
was the man. Yet his heart, though cased in a very rough ex-
terior, was a kind one.
 I was wrong there, signor, I confess, replied Pulini;
 still I don't give up my intended study. I would rather rely
on a character taken from a man's face than from the lips of
another.
 Well, well, Pulini, in future wanderings we shall, no doubt,
have sufficient opportunity of testing this scheme of judging of
our fellow-man by his features. But now for this gondolier.
As Paoli entered the gondola, he was struck with the open
and intelligent countenance of the Venetian—a very young
man.
 Where would the signor please to go ? inquired the
youth, as with a vigorous and graceful sweep of his oar he im-
pelled the boat info the middle of the canal.
 You are acquainted with the name of Tiepolo, no doubt,
said the knight;  I wish to land as near the door of the mer-
chant's palace as possible.
 At the very door, signor, you shall be landed. There is no
name better known in Venice, or nobler perhaps than the
Marchese Tiepolo, replied the gondolier, urging his boat for-
wards.
 The Signor Tiepolo has been ennobled then 1 questioned
the Corsican.  When did he receive his dignity ? 
 Some time after the great pestilence, signor, I believe,
replied the gondolier.  It seems the coffers of St. Mark were
exhausted; and the noble merchant freely bestowed part of
his wealth to save the people, of Venice from starvation. The
senate, signor, bestowed an empty title (one, I believe, that
formerly belonged to the family) ; the people of Venice gave a
blessing from their hearts.
The Corsican was struck with the manner and tone of the
gondolier, whose accent was not that of a Venetian. There
was something altogether in the youth that interested our
hero, and, looking him in the face, he said,'—■
 You are not, I judge, a native of Venice.
 No, signor, no ; thanks to St. Nicholas, I claim the wild
hills of the Tyrol as my birthplace. I fled my country, signor,
he added in a low voice, and his eyes flashed,  to avoid one
tyrant, and here I have stumbled on ten—but, signor, here is
the grand canal. The signor is, I perceive, a stranger to
Venice. This is one of the wonders of this wonderful city.
Yonder is the bridge of the Rialto.
Giacinto, like every one who has visited Venice, was struck
and surprised by the novelty of every object that surrounded
him. Countless gondolas shot along the surface of the smooth
32
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
water. The noble, and, at times, magnificent palaces that
lined each side of the canal—the imposing front of the ducal
palace—its noble colonnades—the red columns—the Piazzetto
of St. Mark—were all objects of wonder and admiration.
Gliding from the grand canal into one much narrower, the
gondolier arrested his boat alongside a flight of steps leading
to the portico of a spacious mansion.
 This is the Palazzo Tiepolo, signor. Shall I await your
return ?
Paoli manifested a wish to retain the gondolier in his service
while in Venice. The youth's dark eyes flashed with pleasure
as he expressed his gratitude.
Ascending the steps, Paoli entered beneath the colonnaded
front ; and on requesting to see the Marchese Tiepolo, one of
the domestics summoned the usher. A respectable personage
in black then appeared, and, having received our hero's name,
conducted him through a noble hall, and up a marble staircase
of magnificent proportions, with alcoves, or niches, on each
landing-place, filled with marble statues, exquisitely sculp-
tured. Thence he passed along a spacious corridor, and was
shown into a saloon, evidently the one used by the family as a
withdrawing room.
The major domo then retired, saying he would inform the
Marchese of his wish to see him.
The Corsican cast a casual glance around. The jalousies
were down, and the windows open to admit the cool and plea-
sant breeze ; for the day was sultry, and a soft and subdued
light fell upon each object in the room.
Many of the luxuries of the east adorned the apartment.
The then rare and costly mirrors, the manufacture of Venice,
hung in splendid frames from the walls ; the tables were
covered with various articles of female use and taste ; in a
corner stood a harp ; on an ottoman lay a lute, music, and
embroidery.
Seeing some portraits suspended from the wall, the knight
approached to gain a nearer view. There were four : the first
he looked upon he immediately recognized as the Marchese.
Two smaller ones next attracted his attention : they were the
portraits of two young and beautiful girls in the Venetian
costume. The first glance caused him to give a start of sur-
prise ; he imagined he beheld the portrait of the fair and
youthful maiden he had rescued from the grasp of Ludovico
Guarnieri—a second glance, however, proved to him that, how-
ever strong the resemblance, it was not the portrait of Agnes,
for the colour of the hair, the eyes, the age—all differed. Yet
he felt the likeness was striking.
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
33
While pondering over this strange resemblance, the door
opened, and the Marchese Tiepolo entered the saloon. Advanc-
ing, he embraced Giacinto with paternal kindness ; welcomed
him to Venice ; and insisted on his instantly taking up his
abode in the palace. Without paying the slightest attention
to Giacinto's efforts to speak, he summoned the major domo,
and dispatched two of his domestics to bring his young visi-
tor's mails ; and, before night, the Corsican and his squire were
completely established in a handsome suite of apartments.
Before a week had expired, Giacinto felt more at home in the
amiable family of the Marchese than a year of intercourse
would warrant.
Paoli had a long and interesting conversation with the Mar-
chese, who listened to his brief tale with much emotion. He
mourned deeply over the fate of his early friend ; and, as he
pressed the hand of the young knight, and his gaze rested
upon^the ring, the token of past friendship, his eye glistened,
and he vowed he would be a second father to the youth.
Giacinto stated his wishes, and his intention of entering into
the service of Venice.
 Of that, my young friend, said the Marchese,  we will
talk another time. Be in no hurry. You must look about you
first, and know something about us. Of this be assured ; any-
thing you wish, and that my interest, which is not trifling,
with the rulers of Venice, can procure, shall be yours. I owe
? your lamented father a life. Let me prove my gratitude to the
son. As God has not blessed me with a son, you must be one
to me, though I am proud of the two sweet girls Heaven has
bestowed upon me.
Having established our hero and his squire in the palazzo
of the Marchese, we will briefly describe the Venetian mer-
chant and his family, with whom the Corsican was already a
prodigious favourite.
The Marchese Tiepolo was at this period in his fifty-fourth
year—and still a fine and stately-looking figure, with hand-
some features, clearly defining, by their mild and benevolent
expression, the nobleness of his character. Notwithstanding
the immense sacrifices he had made to the State in order to
relieve his countrymen, after their dreadful sufferings during
the great pestilence, and the famine that followed—at the
period of Giacinto Paoli's visit to Venice, Tiepolo was accounted
one of the richest merchants in that city of wealth.
The Marchesa was of the noble house of Pisani, and eight or
ten years younger than her lord. She was still a woman of
fascinating manners, and, though not remarkable for beauty,
her countenance was extremely pleasing.
c
34
THE SUNNY SOUTH;
Her daughters were accounted two of the fairest amid the
maidens of Venice.
The eldest, Julia, was betrothed to a Venetian noble of large
fortune, and one of the Council of Forty, Count Michaello Steno,
well known in Venetian history as the writer of a pasquinade
that cost the Doge Falieri his life.
The youngest, Paulina, then in her eighteenth year : it was
her portrait that had so forcibly reminded the Corsican of the
young Agnes. The Lady Paulina, at the time of Paoli's visit,
was the pride and reigning toast of Venice.
The sisters were perhaps equally beautiful, though their
style of beauty differed. Julia was rather below the middle
height, of a slight but graceful figure : her manner, though
cheerful, and, at times, animated, was in general somewhat
silent and reserved. Paulina's figure was above the ordinary
height of her sex. She was full of life and vivacity ; the very
thoughts of her heart were to be read in her speaking and
beautiful eyes. In person she was graceful and easy, though
much fuller proportioned than her sister ; and in disposition,
feeling, and generosity, she resembled her father.
Paulina had as many lovers as there were cavaleros in Ve-
nice ; but the maiden's heart was so light, her spirits were too
vivacious to allow that unruly and impatient urchin Cupid to
make any impression on them.
Such was the family of the Marchese Tiepolo.
Week passed after week, till several months had run rapidly
over, and, as yet, the Corsican had made no effort to enter the
service of Venice, though a powerful fleet was then preparing
in the arsenal for an expedition to the East. It was not that a
life of idleness and pleasure accorded with the taste or inclina-
nation of the exile : far from it; he loved, in his heart, the ex-
citement of arms, and ardently longed for active employment.
But the Marchese, day after day, when he alluded to the sub-
ject, put him off, saying,—
 You must not be in a hurry, or I shall say you are tired of
us. Only wait till this galley I am building is finished, and I
will talk to you on the subject.
One evening, Giacinto had accompanied the Marchese to a
beautiful villa he was completing on the little island of Gino,
in the lagunes. They sat enjoying the delicious breeze that
swept over the still waters—beneath the verandah—gazing on
the glories of a magnificent sunset. Venice lay directly oppo-
site. Even the hum of its busy and enormous population came
faintly across the sleeping waters. Innumerable gondolas, and
several stately galleys, reposed listlessly upon the lagune.
Gay parties were amusing themselves in gaudily decorated
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORtTS.
35
barges; for the sweet voices of Venetian maidens, combined
with guitar and lute, came melodiously to the ear.
"Well, my dear young friend, said the Marchese, laying
his hand on the shoulder of the abstracted Corsican, "what
think you now of Venice and its pleasures ? Does it realize
the dreams and anticipations of boyhood 1 Do you remember
the hundred questions you asked me in Pisa concerning the
Adriatic Queen 1 
 It does—and it does not, my kind friend, returned the
knight, rousing himself from a dreamy thought, in which
the vision of the unknown Agnes was strangely mingled with
Paulina Tiepolo ;  probably in youth we look upon everything
with a magnifying glass. As we advance in life, the charm of
many things is lessened as the imagination gets sobered. But
in truth, Marchese, I have nought to say against Venice or its
pleasures. Still 
 I see how it is, Giacinto, interrupted the Marchese, with
a smile,  you are not exactly the kind of man to while away
youth and manhood in pursuit of pleasure. That herculean
frame of thine was formed for nobler purposes. The life you
now lead is a striking contrast to the stirring scenes of past
years, and you feel it even more perhaps than you are aware of
—your wish is to serve under our banner in this war with your
old enemies, the Genoese. This is easily accomplished ; still I
do not think you would like to be bound in your time of ser-
vice. The fleet now fitting out to cruise against the galleys of
Genoa will be one of the finest that ever sailed the waters of the
Adriatic. The Genoese galleys are now blockading the mouth
of the Don. They have captured every Venetian vessel that
has attempted to enter. Two of my galleys, with rich cargoes,
bound for Byzantium, and consigned to my partner, a very
wealthy Venetian merchant, of the name of Alviano, were
captured and condemned. It is the custom of merchants, and
even nobles, of Venice and Genoa, to build and equip war
galleys, which are manned sometimes by volunteers, and often
commanded by the younger sons of our nobility. These
galleys have a protection from the State. When in company,
they obey the orders of the Venetian admiral. A certain por-
tion of all prizes taken goes into the coffers of St. Mark. In
the present fleet there are six galleys fitting out by our young
nobility, the most conspicuous of whom is the gallant Count
Otho Palavicino. Young Pisani, with whom you have become
so intimate, also commands a very fine and stately galley ; his
father is appointed admiral of the entire fleet. N ow I ardently
wish you, if it suits your views, to take the command of the
fine galley I am now ready to launch. You have often said
36
tub sunny south ; -ob,
she is a noble model: she shall be second to none in equipment.
With a fine crew, two of my best pilots, and volunteers, you
will have more than you require ; and for the prizes you take
we share equally, added the Marchese.
Not allowing Paoli to put in a word—struck as he was by
the noble and generous proposal of the Venetian—the Marchese
continued to explain his offer.
 Admiral Pisani, said he,  to whom I have already men-
tioned the subject, engages to procure you a^protection from
the senate, rarely granted to a foreigner. Now, my dear hoy,
I know this will suit your views, for you mentioned the other
day, to Count Steno and young Pisani, your wish to serve on
hoard a vessel in this fleet—besides, added he, with a pleased
smile, and pressing the hand of the youth,  I am at the same
time serving myself.
Giacinto smiled.
 A fact, I assure you, continued the Marchese.  I intend
to share in the prizes you take, which you will consign to the
Signor Alviano, in Byzantium. He will know what to do with
them. You see this will be a joint concern between us—so all
is settled. We will say no more of this now. The fleet sails
after the festivities to be given on the occasion of this strange
marriage of our aged Doge, Marino Faliero. His young and
beautiful bride is scarcely eighteen, and he is eighty.
 A fearful disparity of years, observed Paoli, as he and the
Marchese entered the gondola.
 A union [that will lead to sorrow, returned the Marchese,
in a low tone.  Marino Faliero is a good and a great man, and
was a stout-hearted soldier. He served Venice in his youth
with his best blood. Still our Doge is hot of temper, somewhat
imperious, and jealous to excess.
 Bad^qualities, remarked the knight, "to ensure happiness
with a young and beautiful bride.
CHAPTER VII.
the sisters arb cousin.
Amongst the many nobles and cavaleros who frequented the
Palazzo Tiepolo, Giacinto early distinguished and formed a
close intimacy with Count Steno, the betrothed of Julia, and
Orsini Pisani, both young men of generous and upright prin-
ciples, though very different in manner and character. Count
Steno was much attached to his intended, notwithstanding
their wide dissimilarity of character. The Count had an un-
ceasing fund of gaiety in his disposition, with a quick but for-
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHOEUS.
37
giving temper. He was accounted the wittiest noble in Venice ;
indeed, in his love of satire he, at times, indulged too freely.
The Count became greatly attached to the Corsican, who was
a general favourite with the frequenters of the Tiepolo palace.
Steno was a keen observer of those around him ; he felt a real
and brotherly affection for the beautiful Paulina, and had ob-
served that the maiden—perhaps scarcely conscious of it—
looked with evident partiality upon Paoli.
Steno rejoiced at this, for he felt satisfied that the Marchese,
judging from some expressions that fell from his lips, would
regard an attachment between the exile and his daughter as a
desirable object. He admired and loved the young knight as a
father : he had closely studied his disposition ; and a constant
intercourse of several months satisfied him that his daughter's
happiness would be secured by a union with the Corsican, pro-
vided they should become- mutually attached.
A few days before the festivities were to take place at the
Ducal Palace, the Corsican, whose whole heart was engaged in
the fitting up of his galley for the expedition, returned early
from the arsenal. The day was an unusually wet one : he was
going, notwithstanding, to Chiozzi to make some inquiries for
the Marchese, when, in passing the saloon on his way to his
chamber, he heard the sweet tones of the Lady Paulina's
voice, accompanied by the harp. Passionately fond of music,
he forgot his object in seeking his chamber and entered the
saloon. Both sisters were in the apartment—Julia embroi-
dering, Paulina playing and singing.
 This is quite an unusual visit, Signor Paoli, said the Lady
Paulina, pausing and looking into the face of the Corsican with
a bright smile.  Has the Lion (the name of the galley)
 been outrageous and driven you away ? for 1 know even this
day of torrents, bad as it is, would not have that effect.
 Pair Paulina, returned the knight, seating himself beside
the maiden,  the charm of your voice arrested my steps. I was
going to Chiozzi.
 Going to Chiozzi such a day as this ? laughed the maiden.
 It was well for your gondoliers that my voice had the power
of detaining you. They will thank me at all events ; for I sup-
pose you will wisely remain where you are.
 Undoubtedly, if you will continue the ballad you were
singing when I came in. I can go to Chiozzi any day; but
your sweet voice is too 
 Now, Signor Paoli, I wont hear any flattery from you. I
will take all you were going to say for truth, interrupted
the maiden, playfully.
(t Since when, Paulina, have you taken a dislike to flattery—
38
THE StJNNY SOUTH ; OR,
always acceptable to our sex ? interrogated Julia, looking up
from her work.
 Nay, Julia, responded Paulina,  not to all our sex. You,
for one, cannot bear it, and would, I verily believe, send Steno
into exile were he only to hint at paying you a compliment.
 I wish Michaello would flatter more and use his wit less,
returned Julia, thoughtfully.  But let the Signor Paoli have
the ballad. I wish for the rest of it myself, having never
heard you sing it before.
 I don't think in conscience I ought to go on, said Paulina,
running her fingers over the harp.  I do verily believe it
was the rain that drove you in here, Signor Paoli, for shelter.
I cannot think what you men can be doing day after day on
board that galley.
"Sing me the song first, Paulina, and you shall know all
about it, returned the Corsican.
 Well, well, you men must be obeyed: so, in revenge, I
will inflict upon you the whole thirteen verses of this most
doleful ballad.
Paulina's was a voice that touched the heart; and the
ballad was a sweet, plaintive melody.
The Corsican listened with rapt attention, gazing on the
speaking features of the singer. The singular likeness of
Paulina to the unknown Agnes more forcibly than ever
struck him.
 It certainly is a very singular likeness, unconsciously
uttered the knight as Paulina ceased.
But recollecting himself, he paid the lovely Venetian the
compliments she so well merited for the song.
"Now that you have done complimenting me, Signor Paoli,
said the maiden, inquiringly, and looking in his face,  what
did you mean by saying—though I don't think you intended
it for mortal ears—' It is certainly a most singular likeness V
You were looking at me at the time—so I must know who
it is I am like. Some fair Corsican maiden, of course.
 In truth, beautiful Paulina, I likened you to no Corsican
damsel. We cannot boast of one so fair within the limits of
our little isle.
 Taking that for granted, Sir Knight, returned the maiden,
a little impatiently,  who do I resemble ? Any -one in
Venice 1
 In sooth, Paulina, returned Giacinto, with a smile,  I
know not where the damsel may be at this moment. The
only name I heard her addressed by was Agnes—she was
very beautiful, very young, and very interesting.
 Agnes !  repeated the Lady Julia, laying down her work;
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHOEUS.
39
 we have a very fair cousin of that name. But there are
many so called.
 Where did you meet that distressed damsel ? inquired
Paulina ;  for, of course, you delivered her from some immi-
nent peril, like a true wandering knight ; for, somehow, you
adventurous cavaleros are always lucky in finding peerless
maidens to rescue.
 You are not far wrong, fair lady, replied Paoli, laughing,
 for, in truth, the maiden was in danger, and I had the good
fortune to save her from it, for which service I received a very
bright smile from the damsel, and the thanks of a stout-
hearted old cavalero—whose name, if I remember, right, was
Tolosino.
"Good gracious! exclaimed both sisters at once, looking
atonished in the face of the equally surprised Corsican ;  it
was our cousin, Agnes Alviano, after all. How strange ! But
let us hear the whole adventure, from beginning to end,
anxiously demanded Paulina, with a slight variation of
colour.
This request Giacinto obeyed, being equally anxious to hear
more of his hitherto fair unknown.
The Corsican's account was a very modest one. This
Paulina guessed, and resolved to get a fuller narrative from
Pulini, who was a most especial favourite in the Marchese's
family.
Giacinto did not even touch upon his interview or combat
with Duke Guarnieri, merely saying he had rescued the young
lady from falling into the hands of some German Con-
dottieri.
"And now may I ask you, questioned the knight, "where
this fair cousin of yours is residing, and who is the Cavalero
Tolosino and his good dame 1
Paulina did not reply ; she was somewhat abstracted. But
the Lady Julia said,  You have fairly, Sir Knight, earned our
gratitude. Our family are destined to be indebted to yours.
Agnes, is, in sooth, more our sister in affection than cousin—
we three were reared together.
"And a sweeter being in temper and disposition never ex-
isted, rejoined the generous Paulina, looking up. From that
moment she formed an internal resolution that saved her
from much unhappiness.
"Agnes, continued the Lady Julia, "is the only daughter
of the Signor Alviano, a wealthy merchant, who married our
mother's sister, and who has been settled in the city of Byzan-
tium nearly eighteen years. My aunt unfortunately died
when Agnes was only two years old ; and the little girl was
40
THE SUNNY SOUTH J OK,
sent with its nurse to be reared and educated in Venice under
our mother's eye. She was brought up with us, and is about
two years younger than Paulina. Her father wishing her
return when not quite sixteen, she left us, to our deep regret,
under the care of the Signor Tolosino, a stout old cavalero,
and a distant relation of our family, who resides in a fine old
castle near Livorno. My father thought it safer that Agnes
should embark for Byzantium in a Florentine galley—as we
are at war with Genoa, and the Adriatic was at that time
covered with Genoese galleys. She is by this time, I trust,
safe and happy in her father's arms. How strange, Signor
Paoli, that you should be her deliverer from such peril! 
 Positively, Signor Paoli, observed Paulina with a quiet
smile,  you ought, from the very romance of your adventure,
to be in love with my beautiful and fascinating cousin—for
fascinating she is ; and, although so very young, I assure you
she turned the brains of half our Venetian cavaleros.
As the maiden paused, Paoli looked inquiringly in her ex-
pressive face, and said,  But what ought I to do, fair Paulina ?
you did not finish your sentence.
The maiden blushed slightly, replying,  Oh, you know very
well what you ought to do. You, a knight, a sworn protector'
of our sex ! Why, you ought by this time to have ridden half
Italy over in search of your ladye love.
The Corsican smiled, saying, "But love is not always the
growth of an hour. If beauty had such potent influence, what
should, or would, our sex do 1
"Do! somewhat sadly echoed the maiden, "why, you
would love and adore each pretty face you saw, till a fairer
came in the way, and then the first would be forgotten.
"Nay, Paulina, interrupted Julia, "you are severe. You
must not judge all for the peccadilloes of a few.
 By-the-bye, Signor Paoli, interposed Paulina, wishing to
change the subject,  I wanted to ask you a question. You are
a Knight of San Stefano. Are the rules of the order the same
as those of Rhodes V
 Nearly the same; but I am only a lay Knight of St.
Stephen—not a brother of the order. I am neither bound by
vow nor subject to rules or regulations.
Paoli had scarcely ceased speaking when Count Steno entered
the room. A pleased smile passed over the Venetian's features
when he beheld Paoli seated beside the fair Paulina. After
saluting his betrothed, and whispering some lover's hope in
her ear, he turned to the Corsican, saying, in a bantering tone,—
"'So here you are, enjoying the smiles of beauty, while I
have been toiling all day, pro bono pvMioo. I thought you
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
41
were gone to Chiozzi; but, cospetto ! I see you are a wiser and
a better employed man.
"The Signor Paoli, said Paulina, thoughtfully, "would, I fer-
vently believe, rather hear the clangor of steel against steel,
than the clatter of female tongues. He would prefer a battle-
field to crowded saloons.
 Ho not imagine any such thing, Paulina, said Count Steno,
laughing.  I consider him a very ardent admirer of your most
adorable sex, and very likely to fall most desperately in love.
When he does get into that scrape—and if I am not mistaken,
added the Venetian, whispering in the maiden's ear,  he is
in a fair way—eh, Paulina, how beats your own little heart ?
 Quite as regular as yours, Michaello, returned the maiden
in a low voice, and at the same time rising. "And, take my
advice, she added, "do not meddle with other hearts than
your own.
Some few days after this period of our story Count Steno
entered the chamber of Paoli before his morning toilet was
completed.
"What on earth, Michaello, questioned the Corsican, "has
made you stir thus early from your mansion ? You look
serious. Has anything unusual happened to you 1
 In truth, Giacinto, I must make you my confidant in a very
silly transaction—to say the least of it. I wish to keep the affair
from reaching Julia's ears. You know she is of a serious turn
of mind, and always warning me that my ill-starred taste for
satire will, if indulged, bring me into a scrape.
 And the noble maiden is right, Michaello, returned Paoli,
apprehensively.
 Why, I confess, returned Steno, "what I have done would
be better had it never been done, trifling as it is. I am now
rather angry with myself for letting my temper get the better
of my reason. Besides, the Doge's age 
 Why, surely, Steno, interrupted the Corsican ,with a start
of surprise,  you have not been mad enough to exercise your
wit upon the person of your ruler ?
"Per Bacco ! returned the Count, somewhat scornfully,"even
so, amico mio. However, listen, my friend, to the whole affair
as it occurred, and then judge me guilty, or not guilty. But
one thing is certain—I must try and keep the tale from reach-
ing Julia's ears, and in doing that I count upon your assist-
ance.
 You must know, then, Paoli, that the night before last I
was invited to a small and select supper party at the Ducal
Palace. It was, in sooth, a very pleasant meeting, and for
two or three hours the Doge was in the very best humour.
42
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
Witty and agreeable he can be ; but there is no trusting his
temper.
 You have met at several of our fetes the lively and satirical
Bianca Spolino, and you have often assisted her in her mad-cap
sallies, as you called them. In fact, Bianca is the prettiest
mad-cap in Venice ; but wherever she is, mischief is sure to
come from her laughing eyes.
 The night wore on, and, after supper, I was standing chat-
ting with Bianca, when the young Duchessa, passing by, whis-
pered sopiething in Bianca's ear, which caused the maiden to
laugh. In fact, she laughed so loud that the Duchessa held up
her finger playfully, and, turning to me, was on the point of
saying something, when the Doge suddenly walked in between
us, as if to separate us. His face, to my extreme surprise, was
purple with rage. He turned full upon me, looking me fiercely,
and almost savagely, in the face, and saying at the same time
m a low, but very distinct, voice—' Count Steno, I insist on
your quitting the palace this instant. Beware, signor ! I have
watched you. Age has not made me blind to my own dis-
honour. Begone, sir ! I will have no reply.'
 My blood flew to my temples at this most uncalled-for insult.
I would have replied, but I saw that Bianca was deadly pale, and.
the Duchessa, leaning on her arm, seemingly greatly shocked.
Curbing my indignation, I returned the frown of the proud,
imperious, and jealous old man ; and, turning on my heel, I left
the saloon. As I passed through the council-chamber—I know
not what devil put it in my head—but, taking out my pencil, I
wrote upon the ducal throne a pasquinade,* and left the palace.
Now I could almost chop the hand off that did it—I meant
only to satirize the Doge ; yet the words are capable of a
double meaning, and might throw a slur upon the innocent
Duchessa.
"I am sorry, very sorry to hear that, interrupted the Cor-
sican, thoughtfully. You surely 
"Nay, Giacinto, you wrong me, interrupted Steno.  I will
peril life at any moment with any one who says, or imagines,
I meant purposely to wound the feelings of Faliero's bride.
No, no. There's the curse'of satirical scribbling. From this
hour I forswear it.
 But to conclude the farce—for such it is now likely to be.
The Doge read the lines, and was furious, and vowed vengeance
against the writer. He suspected me. I was summoned, and
did not think of denying it. No apology could soften the
rancour of his heart towards me. The affair was laid before the
* F~:toA
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
43
Council of Forty, of which. I am a member. The Doge wished
the Council to look upon the affair as he did, and to consider
it a deadly and offensive act—and a State crime. This was
folly. I knew before the Doge could, the sentence that would
be pronounced upon me, namely, confinement to my own palace
for a few days.
 Now, this affair is known only to the few; for everything
that passes within the precincts of St. Mark remains a pro-
found secret. Julia is not very likely to hear of it; but my
confining myself to my palace for eight or ten days will look
odd. So suppose you take a trip with me.to my paternal castle
at Garda. You can say so at breakfast. Julia knows I intend
going there in a day or so, to see about some improvements, as
I intend passing the first month of our marriage there.
"But is that undergoing your sentence, Steno 1 inquired
Giacinto, somewhat surprised.
 Tut, amico mio / returned the Count, with a laugh.  The
sentence was a mere matter of form, to please the jealous old
man. I must not be seen in Venice, and nothing more is re-
quired. So now do you go down to breakfast, and join me at
Fusina. I will have horses there ready for us. Adieu ! Of
course, you need not say you saw me this morning, unless you
are asked, which is not likely, as I am not in general given to
early rising.
During breakfast, Giacinto casually observed that he was
going to accompany Count Steno to Garda.
Julia looked up, fixing her eyes on our hero with a very
meaning glance.
 Why, what a changeable being Michaello is ! exclaimed
the Marchesa, laughing.  He promised a week ago to take us
this very day to Gino. It is to be hoped, Julia, added the
fond mother, patting her daughter's cheek,  that by-and-bye
you will keep this volatile Count in better order.
 I want you, Giacinto, said the Marchese, rising,  to
accompany me for half an hour to the arsenal. Juliano will
attend you afterwards to Fusina. Pisani's new galley, the
Colossus, will be launched this morning ; she is of the same
build and capabilities as the Lion, with a very trifling im-
provement of my own, in the fashion of her bow. Don't
hurry, added the Marchese, leaving the room,  I have an
order to write.
Paulina, as she followed her father, said to Paoli, who ap-
peared very intent upon a cup of chocolate,—
 So you are going to Garda. Do just tell Michaello that' if
I were Julia he should not get off so lightly. He should pay
a penalty for his broken promises which he would little like.
44
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
 What penalty should that he, fair maiden 1 asked the
Corsican, smiling.  I should like to know, as a warning to
avoid striking on the same rock.
"There is no fear of you, Sir Knight, replied Paulina,
thoughtfully, and with a slight change of colour.  Your
barque is too well freighted with liberty and glory to afford
room for love's peccadilloes. Adieu ! I wish you a pleasant
trip.
Paoli was now alone with the Lady Julia. He, too, was
rising, when the soft low voice of the maiden arrested his
steps.
 I entreat you will excuse my delaying you, Signor Paoli,
began the Lady Julia. There was some slight hesitation in her
manner, as she added,  I thought I heard the tones of Count
Steno's voice in the corridor this morning, speaking to your
attendant, Puliui. Was such the case, Signor Paoli 1
 Michaello was with me early this morning ! returned the
knight, "to arrange this excursion to Garda.
 Very singular he did not stay to breakfast! remarked the
maiden, her mild and expressive eyes resting upon his with a
somewhat searching expression.  Was there any particular
reason that he should be so long at Fusina before you 1
 Very probably, signora, public business requires his pre-
sence till the very minute of departure.
"Ah ! Signor I^aoli,'' returned the Lady Julia, with a very
pensive smile, "is the air of Venice affecting you already
with its mysterious properties 1
Giacinto looked a little conscious: he was, by nature, a bad
deceiver : his features, like his heart and mind, were open and
easily read.
 I wish you, Signor Paoli, pursued Julia, "to tell Michaello
—he will mind you, for he esteems you much—that even the
walls of St. Mark cannot at all times keep the secrets of its
inmates, or confine a lady's tongue—or frighten it into silence.
I am a party in Steno's secret. Tell him that I hope the events
of the night before last will be a lesson to him, and cause him
to forbear a dangerous desire of exercising a talent that, nine
cases out of ten, may cause much mischief, and can seldom, if
ever, tend to good. I am not offended with Michaello, for he
has a noble, honourable heart—he is a little thoughtless and
giddy, and gets sometimes into scrapes. This last is truly
serious, for it might, in Venice, cost a life, even to a member of
the Council of Forty. And now adieu, signor ! But do not
think I deal in mysteries. I gained my knowledge from the
Puchessa's lady in waiting, Bianca Spolino, who informed me
of the rude, if not insulting, treatment Steno received from the
the battle on the bosphorus. 45
Doge. Still, I cannot excuse the thoughtless slur thrown on
the innocent Duchessa.
Giacinto eagerly explained to Julia how deeply Steno felt for
having done so.
 But how has Steno avoided the anger of the Doge ?  in-
quired the maiden, anxiously.  Bianca did not tell me that.'
 He was sentenced, by the Council of Forty, to a few days'
confinement in his own palace.
"Good heavens! exclaimed Julia, "and he is now going
to exasperate the Doge—for hear of it he will—by despising
the sentence passed upon him.
 Signor Paoli, exclaimed the voice of the Marchese from
without,  I am now ready.
 One word more, said Julia, anxiously.  Tell Steno—and
add your entreaties to mine—tell him it will make me happy
if he would submit literally to the sentence. Tou promise
me?
 Most willingly, signora, for your opinion coincides with
mine.
The Corsican joined the Marchese, passed an hour in the
arsenal, and then crossed the lagune to Fusina.
Steno readily listened to Paoli's reasoning, added to Julia's
wish ; and, like a very obedient lover, returned to Yenice, and
shut himself up in his palace. But there being no hindrance
to his enjoying himself therein, he took especial care to assemble
his friends around his hospitable board, with whose assistance,
and the composition of a volume of love-sonnets, dedicated to
the Lady Julia, he got through the week tolerably to his satis-
faction. The time being expired, he hastened to throw him-
self at the feet of his mistress, determined to think no more of
the affair, and believing it was equally banished from the
Doge's mind.
But Count Steno was unfortunately mistaken. Trivial as
was the case, it brought much sorrow and persecution on
many.
CHAPTER YIIL
the venetian bravo.
 Your old enemies, Giacinto, remarked the Marchese, one
morning, at breakfast,  are determined to have more than
one iron in the fire—to use an old saying.
"How so, Marchese? questioned the Corsican, anxiously.
 I should not be sorry to hear that Genoa has got an iron too
much in the fire, and that she even burned her fingers.
46
THE SUNNY SOUTH OB,
"It is not unlikely but sbe may in the end,_ returned the
Marchese.  The Genoese have instigated Louis of Hungary
to declare war against our republic. He has demanded the
province of Dalmatia as his right. _ _ „ .,
"And of course Venice has refused his claim? said our
hero.
 That I cannot take upon me to say, Giacinto. Louis is a
prince of active courage and superior talents ; and, though
somewhat inconstant of purpose, is of a noble and generous
temper. I fear a war with Louis would not benefit Venice.
Nevertheless, our rulers are prepared; and you will be sur-
prised to hear they have resolved to take into pay your quon-
dam antagonist, the famous Luke Guarnieri, who is encamped
with five thousand men on the borders of the Trevesan Marsh
—having routed the forces of the Lord of Padua, who attempted
to arrest his march.
 He is a dangerous neighbour, in peace or at war, said our
hero.  I should think Louis of Hungary will, if they come to
blows, find him a formidable antagonist. Did you hear how
Sir John Hawkwood has disposed of himself and his gallant
band 1 He has been watching the movements of the Barbuti
for some time.
 Report says, replied the Marchese,  that Guarnieri had
designs against Florence ; but that Sir John Hawkwood, break-
ing up his encampment, entered that city by the express desire
of^the Florentines, and Guarnieri, if he had any project against
the republic, abandoned it, broke up his camp, and suddenly
marched into the Paduan territory. If he enters into the ser-
vice of Venice, it will lighten the coffers of St. Mark to pay
him and his band. Still it would never do to let him become
a confederate of Louis of Hungary. You may depend upon it
he knew what he was about when he encamped on the borders
of the Trevesan Marsh. By-the-bye, you are going with the
girls to Gino, so I must take charge of the Lion to-day. That
pilot from Chiozzi has not returned yet; I hope he may before
you sail. He's a valuable fellow.
That same evening Giacinto, somewhat heated after his ex-
cursion to Gino—the day having been uncommonly sultry—
entered a gondola, in order to enjoy the cool air that played
along the surface of the grand canal. Pulini, as usual, accom-
panied him. The knight loved to talk of the past, and of those
that were gone.
The moon was at full, and threw a flood of silvery light
over the proud buildings of Venice on one side, contrasting
strongly with the deep shadows of those on the opposite side
of the canal. Numbers of sombre-looking gondolas, freighted
TfiE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS. 47
with the gay and light-hearted, swept by. Instrumental music,
singing, and joyous laughter, came from beneath the dark
awnings of the boats.
It was Tempo di Carnivale. As Giacinto glided along, be
could see within the chambers of the palaces on each side, bril-
liantly lighted, and thronged with crowds of gay maskers ; even
the long balconies were crowded, and the laugh, the jest, and
the soft silvery tones of the Venetian dames, fell clear and dis-
tinct upon the ear.
 Land me at St. Mark's stairs. I will have an hour's stroll
amid yon motley groups, said the knight to his gondolier.
The piazzas of St. Mark were, in truth, thronged to excess.
Nobles and contadini, harlequins and mountebanks, under the
privilege of the ample mantle and mask, were in happy forget-
fulness of everything save the enjoyment of the hour.
To Paoli the mask answered no purpose : he relished neither
the custom nor the inconvenience ; and for half an hour he
rambled amid the noisy crowd, highly amused ; till at length,
getting tired of the din and confusion of tongues, he rambled
into a deserted piazza, and, leaning against a pillar, kept his
eyes fixed upon the crowd in the distance. But his thoughts
rambled elsewhere: though within sight, and almost within
sound of the gay maskers, the spot where he stood seemed as
silent and deserted as if miles from the scene of gaiety.
Not very far from where the Corsican was standing, wrapt
in thought, and nearly cone- -.1 od in the deep shadow of the ar-
cade, appeared, also reclining against a column, a very remark-
able figure. His height equalled that of the Corsican; his
arms were folded across a broad chest; his figure, judged through
the folds of a brown mantle, was muscular; his head was
covered with the heavy slouched Venetian beaver, which threw
a deep shade over his features ; the position of the head, bent
down upon the chest as if in repose, completely concealed the
face,' which was unmasked.
So profound seemed the repose, or listlessness,of this stranger,
that he did not observe the approach of a male figure, enve-
loped in a pale blue mantle, his features being concealed by a
silk mask.
This person stepped up close to the motionless figure leaning
against the pillar ; and, laying his hand on his shoulder, said,
in a low but distinct voice,—
 Asleep, Paulo Verbano ! Are the purlieus of St. Mark so
desirable a resting-place, or so very secure, as to tempt you to
repose 1
 And why not, pray 1 demanded the stranger, raising his
head, but remaining in the same listless attitude.  The place
48
!THE SUNNY SOU I'll J OR,
is quite secure enough, for me when it pleases me to seek re-
pose. Who are you 1 And what brings you to seek Paulo
Yerbano 1
"You seem testy, good Signor Yerbano, returned the Blue
Mantle, in a sneering tone. "You might guess I required a
trifle at your hands, and not he as testy as if you had got a
young wife to tease you.
 Has not Paulo Yerbano a right to a young bride as well as
our noble Doge 1 At all events, he muttered, in a lower tone,
 his Highness will never have what I have had.
 And what's that, Paulo 1 returned Blue Mantle.
"Five hungry children to feed, replied the bravo, with a
fierce laugh ;  but I ask you again, what have I to do for you 1
I don't know even the tone of your voice.
 My purse is heavy, replied Blue Mantle.  Consequently
it is no matter whether you know, or do not know, the tone of
my voice. I was recommended to Paulo Yerbano as the only
bravo in Yenice who had a conscience.
 Conscience ! humph! You want a cheap job, I suppose,
muttered the bravo.
The Blue Mantle laughed, saying,—
 Do you know the Marchese Tiepolo 1
At that name the bravo started from his careless posture,
and laid his large, bony hand forcibly on the other's shoulder.
"Do I know the only noble in Venice that has a heart?
Who are you 1 you dare not come to Paulo Verbano, if you
valued your life, with a proposal to harm a hair of Tiepolo's
head. Speak, man, speak !
 Take your grip from my arm, man! exclaimed Blue
Mantle, roughly, and with a violent jerk ; for, though short,
he was strongly built.
Having freed himself, he added, in a quieter tone,—
 Why, what a fiend's humour you are in to-night ! You
mistake my words. I want not to harm your worthy friend,
the Marchese Tiepolo.
 Well then, amico, returned the bravo,  to the point at
once. What am I to do ? and what is to be my reward 1
 Take that as earnest, replied the stranger, tossing a purse
into the hands of the bravo.  Another, better filled, when
the job is done.
"Humph ! muttered Verbano, chinking the gold in the
purse.  That's coming to the point. Who's the man ?
 I asked you a moment ago, if you knew the Marchese
Tiepolo. In his palace dwells the individual I wish removed.
He is not a native of Venice. I do not 
"Basta, Basta / interrupted the bravo, breaking into a low,
1'IIE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
49.
chuckling laugh, that startled the stranger.  Oh, by the
mass, it's droll ! 
 Why, what's in the wind now, Paulo ? It may be droll
to you, who pocket the gold ; but, by St. Anthony, your victim
will see nothing droll in being tickled by the point of your
stiletto ! Do you know the man I mean 1 a tall 
Laying his heavy hand upon the shoulder of him in the blue
mantle, the bravo turned him round, and, pointing with his
finger in the direction of our hero, who stood out boldly and
fully revealed in the strong moonlight, he said,— Is yonder
stranger like your man V'
The unknown started back a pace or two, exclaiming, in a
fierce, though low voice,—
 'Tis he, by St. Anthony ! I will strike him now. No better
time or place.
But Paulo's hand checked he stranger's movement, and he
said,—
 Put up your dagger, man, and use your eyesight better.
Why, it's only yesterday that I received two purses to remove
that same individual— Corpo di Bacco ! If he stays here
much longer, he will win the hearts of half the women in
Venice, and the hatred of all the men. He'll make my
fortune.
 I do not understand you, Paulo, returned the stranger
sulkily.  You say you are paid to stab that individual,
yonder ; and yet there he stands, within fifty yards of you—his
back to a pillar, and his eyes and his thoughts on the moon
Where could you strike a better blow, and with greater
security ?
 Humph ! so you think. Look again. Do you see, not five
paces to the right of our victim, a stout, broad-backed man, in
the garb of a squire, leaning on the hilt of an iron basket-
hilted sword, with his eyes steadily fixed upon the figure of
his master ? Do you think you could cross that long stream
of light that intervenes between us, without attracting that
man's observation ? Why, that fellow follows his master like
a shadow. He has had some warning of the good intentions
of our Venetian cavaleros. Or do you think it nothing to
strike a man built after the fashion of that Corsican (for such
he is), and stand, besides, a tussle with his squire, who could
afford to lose a head, and yet stand some inches taller than
such as you 1 Be satisfied that I shall choose my time and
place, and that the job shall be done to your satisfaction. So
adio, Signor Blue Mantle ! I have a trifling affair in hand.
Remember the other purse, I pray you, when the job is
done.
D
50
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OB,
And the bravo laughed his chuckling laugh, and, plunging
into the deep shades of the piazza, suddenly disappeared.
At that moment the Corsican moved from his resting-place,
totally unconscious of the very interesting conversation carried
on within so short a distance from him.
The stranger in the blue mantle looked after the Corsican's
receding figure for a moment, and muttering to himself,—
 Curse that bravo ! I do believe the villain is afraid to
strike the blow. Better trust to my own dagger, which never
yet failed me.
And, gathering his mantle about him, he rapidly left the
spot.
Scarcely had he retired when the head of a boy was pro-
truded from behind a pillar close by, watching the figure in
the blue mantle till it disappeared. The owner of the head
then stepped forth, and looked carefully along and without the
piazza. He was a youth of about fifteen years of age, vested
in the garments of a page. He held a mask in one hand, and
a short, dark mantle in the other. Finding the coast clear, he
threw the mantle over his shoulders, tied on the mask, and
then, with a light, active step, he also hurried on through the
piazza of St. Mark.
In a few minutes he became mingled in the noisy and
bustling crowd.
CHAPTER IX.
THE MASKED BALL.'
Time passed, and the long-expected night of the masked
ball at the Ducal Palace at leDgth arrived. The fleet was
expected to be in readiness to sail for Byzantium a few days
after. The good people of Venice had, therefore, three topics
of conversation, namely—the ball, the expedition to the
Levant, and the expected war with the King of Hungary.
Two of those topics in no way interested our hero. He cared
very little, if at all, about the war with Louis, and not much
more about the festivities of St. Mark. Three months pre-
viously he had had an opportunity of sending letters to his old
friend and cousin, Otho Sampiero, in Rome, relating, in a brief
manner, his adventures, his present situation, and his inten-
tion of proceeding to the Levant—having a noble galley under
his command—and inviting Otho, and any other young Cor-
sican noble inclined, to join him in the expedition against
Genoa. To this letter he had received no reply, and he felt
uneasy about the fate of a cousin to whom he was strongly
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHOBUS.
51
attached. In those days of no posts, intelligence from places
far apart was only to be obtained by private messengers, or
couriers. Travelling was exceedingly dangerous and difficult,
whether by sea or land. The Mediterranean and the Adriatic
swarmed with pirates and corsairs, while the land was overrun
with robbers and Condottieri—a species of robber of the worst
kind ; for they levied contributions under an act of parliament
then much in fashion—brute force. Giacinto Paoli, therefore,
considered his friend might have met with some misfortune in
travelling to join him. He had perhaps fallen into the power
of the Genoese, which would lead, perchance, to imprisonment
for life.
These thoughts, and some others that would intrude them-
selves on his mind, found the Corsican knight somewhat out of
spirits the night of the masked ball.
"Well, Sign or Paoli, said the Lady Paulina, "what is to
be your character to-night 1 You have not told U3 what dress
you have selected. That mad-cap Steno is going as Folly—
with cap and bells ; and Julia is positively displeased ; so he
has consented to change his costume—after an hour's sport,
as he says.
"A simple domino, Paulina, answered the knight, "will
do to disguise my figure ; and that is all I wish, as I prefer
being amused to the trouble of amusing. You and the Lady
Julia have, I see, selected the simple but graceful habits of
the Dalmatian maidens.
 Here comes our dear father, as Soliman the Magnificent,
said Paulina;  and magnificent he truly looks. And see,
here is Julia, for once captivated with Folly.
Count Steno entered the room, leading his betrothed.
Covering themselves with ample mantles, the whole party
proceeded to the bank of the canal, and entered the handsome
and beautifully decorated gondola of the Marchese. They
were soon mingled amid the countless numbers gliding along
the still waters of the Grand Canal. The ladies were delighted
with the gay and brilliant scene ; for the palaces on each side
were splendidly illuminated. Even our hero's spirits revived
under the influence of the hour, and the spell that youth and
beauty cast around the heart of man—when the softer sex
reign triumphant. The noble arch of the Rialto, over which
blazed the arms of the republic, in every coloured lamp,
elicited the admiration of all, as they shot beneath its
curve.
But the principal attraction was the Ducal Palace and the
Piazza of St. Mark. Every pillar was wreathed with alternate
circles of flowers and lamps ; while the square itself, lighted
d 2
52
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OE,
by innumerable torches, appeared one dense mass of human
heads.
The nobility, being provided with private tickets of invita-
tion, were allowed ingress to the palace through private por-
tals ; and through these the Marchese and his party entered,
and proceeded to ascend the celebrated staircase of the palace,
called the Giant's Stairs.
Hundreds of masks covered this noble and ample ascent;
inhabitants of every clime then known appeared strangely
mingled, but all seeking one object—pleasure. Ushers, with
long white rods, stood at the top to show those provided with
private cards into a more select portion of the Ducal Palace,
where the Doge and Dogeressa would appear.
Count Steno, with the Lady Julia, led the way up the
Giant's Stairs. The Marchese and Marchesa followed, and
our hero and the beautiful Paulina came next—the latter full
of life and spirits, happy to be leaning on the arm of one who,
in spite of all her efforts, was dear to her young and guileless
heart.
Naturally of a gay and cheerful spirit, the Corsican rapidly
caught the infection of his fair companion's spirit, and, be-
coming unusually gay, entered into the folly of the hour with
animation.
They had nearly gained the summit of the stairs, and
Giacinto was bending his head to catch a sentence from the
lips of Paulina—for the noise around was great—when a voice
close to his earwhispered,—
 You are watched ! keep on your mask ! 
Surprised, he turned quickly round ; but, in the mo hey
group, eagerly striving to gain the summit, it would have been
folly to fix on any individual as the person who had uttered
the warning.
 Who are you seeking, Signor Paoli 1 demanded Paulina.
"Our party have reached the top. We shall soon get rid of
this promiscuous crowd.
 Some masquerade trick, I suppose, returned our hero, who
carried his mask in his hand.  I thought some one whispered
in my ear.
 Oh, you are new to these, our Venetian revels, Sir Knight,
observed Paulina, laughingly.  You will find that many will
whisper in your ear; but you must let the words find their
way out at the other.
On gaining the summit, the Marchese and his party were
ushered into a range of splendidly decorated and brilliantly
lighted saloons, already filled with the high nobility of Venice.
 Well, fair maiden, exclaimed Count Steno to Paulina,
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORCS.
shaking his bells,—for he still resolved to have an hour's frolic
as Folly,— would it please you, before you plunge into the
vortex of pleasure, that I read you a homily on the dangers
that surround you \ 
"Away !  exclaimed the maiden, with a laugh.
 Folly, away with your cap and bells,
Pleasure now the hour rules
Still thy silly tinkling tells,
Now all men here are fools.
 By Jove, I have hopes of you now, Paulina! I never
knew you rhyme before. I see it's no use for Folly to talk
sense, so I'll away. Take care of yourself, Giacinto. Hide that
handsome face of thine, or you will have all the women making
love to you.
Our hero did as he was bidden. He put on the mask, much
as he disliked it; and Paulina proposed a stroll through the
saloons before joining the dancers.  I wish, said she,  to
show you our Doge and Dogeressa, and many of our nobility
who will, with his Highness, stand unmasked.
Accordingly, passing through several saloons, they came to
one, at the upper end of which was a slightly raised platform
covered with crimson cloth, whereon were placed two richly
carved chairs. Standing on this platform were the Doge and
Dogeressa, and about a score of the nobility of Venice un-
masked. These nobles, though they carried a mask in their
hands, wore no fancy dress of any sort, but were attired in the
costly and rich dress of the times. A very few years after, a
law was passed by the rulers of Venice regulating the dress of
the Venetian, and forcing the wealthiest noble to wear a cloak
of Paduan manufacture, precisely the same as the meanest
artizan.
At the period of which we write, the nobles dressed as they
pleased. Their attire was generally composed of rich flowered
silk, edged with costly lace, and their doublets were of gold and
silver brocade.
 And now what think you of our Doge and his consort 1
questioned Paulina, as they approached close to the platform.
Giacinto looked long and fixedly on the remarkable linea-
ments of the unfortunate Marino Faliero. An agitated ex-
pression was upon his features. His dark grey eye was keen
and penetrating, though he had reached seventy-six years of
age. His glance remained not for a minute fixed : it roamed
over the vast saloon as if in search of some wished-for object,
and he appeared to give but little attention to the conversation
of the nobles around him.
"If I were to judge from the human countenance, said the
54
THE SUNNY SOUTH OR,
Corsican to Paulina,  I should say your sovereign, with all hlS
power, is not a happy man.
"And yet you may read his countenance wrongly, Signor
Paoli. But the Dogeressa 1
 She is beautiful, in truth, and apparently full of spiritg
and vivacity. Who is that tall and handsome noble with whom
she is conversing 1
 That is the Doge's nephew, Bertuccio Faliero ; and that
stern, fierce-looking man next him, with his arms folded, is the
great admiral of the arsenal, Bertuccio Israello, who com-
mands the Bucentaur, and is answerable for its safety with his
life. There, next him, is the proudest noble in Venice, and,
whispering, she added,  one of the Council of Ten, Giovanni
Delfino. On the other side of the Dogeressa is the head of the
noble house of Lioni. The rest are not conspicuous characters,
so I pass them over. Now let us join the dancers.
The night, like every other night devoted to pleasure, drew
rapidly to a close, when the Marchesa and her daughters ex-
pressed a wish to retire, as most of the nobility had already
done so. Accordingly Giacinto, the Marchese, and Count
Steno conducted the ladies to their gondola. The Marchese
insisted on the young men staying longer ; but Paoli was not
inclined to remain, till Steno whispered in his ear,  you must
stay—I have something to communicate.
After the departure of the gondola, the young men returned
to the still crowded saloons; for though most of the nobility
and their families, with the Doge and Dogeressa, had retired
after supper, there still remained in the saloons great numbers
of the wealthy citizens and the young signors of good families.
"And now, Michaello, what have you to say to recompense
me for my loss of rest and pleasant dreams ? asked Paoli.
 Pleasant dreams, no doubt, when you do dream, Giacinto,
replied the Count, looking pleased— with a fair maid of Dal-
matia in the foreground of the picture. But listen to me.
Though you did not know me in my change of dress, 1 was
near you several times during the night; and, singular enough,
every time I cast my eyes upon you I saw, following you, a
middle-sized, broad-shouldered man, attired as a palmer. I
could not help noticing this figure; for every time I saw you, I
saw the palmer within a yard of you ; and, last of all, as you
were passing from the stairs, through a crowded and somewhat
dimly-lighted passage, to the canal, by Jove ! I observed the
same palmer thrust himself through the crowd and endeavour
to get near you. Now, Giacinto, in Venice it is not pleasant to
have a substantial shadow dogging one beneath the piazzi of
St. Mark. So I even stepped in between the palmer and you.
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORTTS.
55
Balked in his object, whatever it was, he turned round and dis-
appeared into the palace, amid the crowd. I must confess it,
we Venetians are a jealous race ; and sometimes there is an
awkward way of removing a favoured lover here in this city of
the waves.
Giacinto recollected the warning he had received on entering
the palace, and mentioned the circumstance to Steno.
 Then it's very clear, amico mio, returned Steno,  that you
have a friend and a foe amid the motley group around us.
Just stay where you are. I will go and change my dress. We
will then have a turn through all the saloons. I will keep
near you, and see if we cannot unmask this palmer.
After the departure of the Count, our hero fell into a train
of thought far from pleasing. The observation made by Steno
evidently showed that if he thought him attached to the beau-
tiful Paulina, others might think the same. Inwardly he
taxed his own heart: there all was confusion. The fair, youth-
ful image of Agnes Alviano rose in imagination before him,
and left him in doubt and perplexity. That he admired, nay,
more than admired, the Marchese's daughter, he could not
deny ; and had he never seen the young Agnes, there is
scarcely a doubt but that his love would all have centred in
Paulina.
So immersed in thought became the Corsican, that he forgot
Count Steno, and the intention of his absence. Having taken off
his mask to breathe a cooler air, Giacinto rambled from one saloon
into another, without paying much heed to those about him.
He had walked into a narrow corridor thronged with masks,
and was about to retrace his steps, when he suddenly received
a violent push, and at the same moment a stiletto, aimed by a
strong hand, pierced his mantle, and slightly grazed his side.
Recovering himself, and turning rapidly round, pushing aside
the crowd of masks—none of whom seemed aware of the at-
tempted assassination—our hero obtained a glimpse of a man
in a palmer's dress, answering to the description given him of
that character by Count Steno.
The palmer was urging his way through the crowd, and our
hero hastily followed. The palmer moved rapidly, and so bent
was Paoli upon seizing his assailant that he followed him into
a part of the Ducal Palace not appropriated to the festivities,
and into which he had got by darting after the fugitive through
a pair of folding-doors.
But the palmer had disappeared. Giacinto looked anxiously
around, lie found himself in a long colonnaded corridor,
dimly lighted by a few half-expiring lamps, and which left the
space under the colonnade in deep gloom.
56
THE SUNNY SOUTH OR,
 I have no business here, thought our hero, turning to look
for the door through which he had entered. At that moment
a person attired in black came forth, holding a lamp, followed
by a figure enveloped in a mantle, whose extraordinary height
at once riveted the attention of the Corsican, as he stood in
the deep shade of a massive pillar. He was not observed by
the strangers, who proceeded within a few yards of him.
As they passed, the tall stranger, whose head was covered by
a slouched beaver, with a thick drooping plume, stopped, and,
taking off his mask, placed it in his attendant's hand. With a
start of astonishment, Paoli gazed upon the features now ex-
posed. He could not be mistaken : the face was too deeply
engraven upon his memory.
"Duke Guarnieri !■—and in the Palace of St. Marl?! in-
wardly ejaculated Giacinto.
Having received the mask and mantle, the attendant, or
usher, pointed to a folding door directly opposite to where our
hero stood, saying,—
 That is the door, signor—knock thrice. I will await your
return in the blue chamber.
Guarnieri advanced to the door, while the usher retired.
Amazed at what he beheld, Giacinto did not move. His eyes,
by a kind of fascination, followed the towering form of the
German, whose magnificent figure appeared to singular ad-
vantage in the rich dress he wore.
The Duke knocked thrice at the folding-doors, which were
covered with crimson cloth. Paoli's eyes were on the doors,
when they fell back, and a blaze of light issued forth. The
Duke entered, and the doors were immediately closed. Short
as was the glance that our hero gained of the interior of the
chamber, what he saw increased his amazement. He beheld a
table covered with crimson cloth, round which stood many
signors, richly habited and unmasked. One only of the group
riveted the glance of the knight, and that one bore the at-
tenuated features of Marino Faliero.
"I would rather not have seen all this, mentally exclaimed
Paoli, as he slowly moved from his position.  I want not to
dive into the secrets of St. Mark. 'Tis very strange ! But it
concerns not me.
As he regained the door by which he had entered the corridor,
two ushers in black, carrying lights, crossed his path, and
stopped staring at him in great apparent surprise. One of
them, in a cold, measured tone, said,—
 Signor, may I request to know your business in this part of
the Ducal Palace % 
 I have wandered hither, said Paoli, slightly hesitating,—
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHOIUJS.
57
for at the moment he scarcely knew what to say. But, resolving
to declare the simple fact, he added,— I was stabbed by a per-
son in the disguise of a palmer, and pursued him. I lost him
here, and was not aware, till then, that I had wandered so far
from the scene of festivity.
The man looked keenly in the face of our hero as he spoke,
and then whispered a moment with his companion. At length,
turning to the knight, he said,—
"You will oblige me with your name and abode, signor.
The man spoke in a much more civil and obliging tone when
he had received our hero's answer, which he wrote down on a
small ivory tablet, and then requested the Corsican to follow
them, as the guests had all quitted the Ducal Palace.
 We will show you an entrance into St. Mark's-square by a
private portal, said the usher.
Having passed through several passages and chambers, they
threw open a small, strong door, saying,—■
 This will lead you into the square. And, wishing him
good night, they closed the door.
Giacinto Paoli stepped forward, and soon perceived he was
in the piazza, and that the lights were fast expiring. Making
the best of his way to the borders of the canal, he found Count
Steno and his Squire Pulini pacing the quay, and anxiously
examining the last stragglers as they took to their gondolas.
The former looked amazingly surprised when he ^recognized
him, saying,—
 In the name of St. Mark, Giacinto, where do you come
from 1 I have been very uneasy since I missed you. You
surely never left the palace by 
 The way we went in, interrupted Paoli, laughing ;  that
I certainly did not. But let us to our gondola. By the Pope's
head, the sun is shining in the eastern sky ! What shameful
rakes we are ! 
As they entered the gondola, Steno seriously repeated his
question as to how he had quitted the Palace of St. Mark.
 For, added he,  I looked through every chamber for you.
 Except the right one, Count, returned Paoli ;  for the
palace assuredly contained me. I was excessively near getting
a few inches of cold steel as a remembrance of this festivity.
 Ha ! say you so 1 ejaculated Count Steno ;  that accursed
palmer, no doubt.
 The very one, Steno ; he led me a chase into a private part
of the palace and then I lost him. But, meeting two ushers,
they showed me out by a private portal.
Our hero confined the recital of his adventure to these few
simple words. He felt he had no right to pry into the secrets
58
the sunny south ; ob,
of the Doge's Palace, and therefore remained silent concerning
what he had seen.
Thus, that which he considered right, in the sequel nearly
proved his destruction.
Steno made few remarks : he was surprised, and seemed
thoughtful. And thus they parted to take a few hours' repose.
CHAPTER X.
the arrest.
Nothing of material consequence occurred amongst the inmates
of the Tiepolo Palace for some days after the events that had
occurred at the ducal fete.
Paoli was occupied daily in seeing every preparation hastened
on board the galley he was to command. Notwithstanding his
constant occupations, his thoughts would at times revert to the
events of that evening when Duke Guarnieri had appeared be-
fore his astonished sight within the private galleries of the
Palace of St. Mark. He was uneasy, for he felt satisfied that
he had, by a singular coincidence, become possessed of a State
secret—a dangerous possession, inasmuch, as to preserve State
secrets, human life, even in the highest grades, was a thing of
nought with the stern tribunal that awed and ruled the
Venetian people.
In a few days more, the whole Venetian fleet would be ready
for sea. In fact, Giacinto—as little inclined to feel apprehen-
sion of danger as any mortal living—would very willingly have
exchanged the gaieties of Venice for the stormy waters of the
Adriatic.
There were moments when the events of the last few months
intruded themselves painfully on his mind : his heart wavered
strangely with respect to its feelings towards the Lady Paulina.
His manner, notwithstanding every effort to the contrary,
became embarrassed ; and the beautiful Venetian grew less
cheerful and social. Before the arrival of the Corsican, Paulina
Tiepolo was surrounded by a circle of passionate admirers. She
felt no reluctance in dismissing her train of lovers; for the
maiden's heart was in truth untouched. That the Corsican, as
time rolled on, was making a favourable impression on her, she
did not deny in communing with her secret thoughts. But,
fortunately for her own happiness, she was warned in time.
Women are much quicker in reading the thoughts than men.
She saw and felt, by the conduct and manner of Paoli, that a
struggle was in his heart between a feeling of love for her and
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHOKUS.
69
a romantic passion for her cousin, Agnes Alviano. In the end,
we have no doubt the feeling Paoli indulged for the maiden he
had.rescued would have given way to a pure and sincere love
for the fair Paulina ; but an event occurred that separated
their destinies for ever.
We do not hold up our hero as a model of human perfection
—far from it. Impetuous and violent in disposition—wavering
and somewhat fickle in his admiration of the softer sex, and
unrelenting in his hatred of the oppressors of his country, the
Corsican was, nevertheless, a faithful and firm friend, a true
patriot, generous, unselfish, and of an unshrinking and untiring
spirit during adversity and severe trials. These last, however,
had softened, in a great measure, his fiery and impatient tern-
per; and his fickleness of heart was atoned for by a true and
noble devotion to one who every way deserved it.
His galley was now fully equipped and manned. Several
Corsican exiles had joined him ; for thousands of the natives,
too stubborn to submit to the -tyranny of their oppressors, fled
the island, and sought service under the banner of any conti-
nental state, except those in league with Genoa.
The two pilots, so anxiously expected by the Marchese, had
arrived, and had, at once, accepted service on board  The
Lion.
Returning, one evening, from the galley, which was then
lying in the lagune, with the rest of the fleet, in passing up the
canal that led to the Tiepolo Palace, a youth, closely wrapped
in a mantle and slouched beaver, approached the edge of the
canal, and threw into the Corsican's gondola a paper folded
round a stone.
Pulini picked it up, and, muttering,  Some fresh mischief, I
suppose, handed it to his master, who beheld the action.
Unfolding the paper, Paoli perceived it was a letter directed
to himself. Somewhat surprised, he read the following words:—
"Quit the territories of the Venetian Republic before the
next sun rises. You are denounced to the Council of Ten, as
a traitor leagued with Genoa, and a spy in the secret pay of
that Republic. To be suspected only, is death in Venice.
 This warning is from Carlo, the page, whose life you saved.
"This hint is not to be despised, thought Paoli, "notwith-
standing the absurdity of the accusation. Then, addressing
the gondolier, he said— Turn back, Juliano. The Marchese
is even now on board the galley of PisanS, with Count Steno.
Better to meet a charge than wait till it meet you. Do you,
Pulini, land at these steps. Proceed to the Tiepolo Palace, and
just put our mails in readiness, should it be necessary to cross
the lagunes this night. 1
60 THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
 Santa Madonna ! signor, exclaimed Pulini,  what's in the
wind now ?
 Why, nothing very particular, returned Paoli, with a smile
at the rueful countenance of his squire.  Nevertheless, it may
be necessary for our health to change the air of Yenice for the
more bracing climate on the other side of the lagunes.
 Confound their masking and secret ways !  muttered the
squire, as he leaped on shore.  I hear there is a spy of the
State in every mansion in Yenice ; and that a man may go to
bed comfortable, and yet be seen hanging, head downwards,
between the red columns of St. Mark, the next morning.
"I fear, signor, said Juliano, in a low voice—as the
gondola shot from the canal into the lagune—"I fear you have
received evil tidings in that paper. An innocent man, signor,
has no chance, if even suspected. Months will he lie buried
in those accursed dungeons of St. Mark, even before he is
examined as to his crime.''
 Something of that kind crosses my mind, Juliano, re-
turned the knight.  I am perfectly innocent and ignorant of
having done aught to attract the notice of the rulers of Venice ;
but the name affixed to this paper assures me that I have little
time to lose. That I have been accused by one who
would stop at no falsehood to gratify his revenge, I feel
satisfied.
 Alas ! signor, should you have, in truth, a bitter enemy in
Yenice—if the dagger fails, they have only to drop a line in
the ' Lion's Mouth,' and, innocent or guilty, the victim is sure
to linger in horrid—Jesu Maria !  exclaimed the startled gon-
dolier, as the oar fell from his hand,  we are lost ! 
Casting off his jacket, to the astonishment of Paoli, Juliano
dropped over the stern of the gondola, and, diving beneath the
calm water, disappeared from the sight of our amazed hero.
They were then just passing a small fleet of fishing-boats; it
was getting dusk, and, scarcely had the gondolier disappeared,
when a long black gondola, with its sable awning, and rowed
by twelve oarsmen, all masked, shot alongside of Paoli's bark.
Immediately four men, vested in sable garments, closely
masked and armed, leaped on board. The knight sprang to
his feet, and his ready weapon flew from its sheath, as he
stood ready to receive his enemies.
 Signor Paoli, this is madness. I arrest you as a prisoner
of State, uttered one of the figures who approached him.  To
draw a weapon upon the officers of St. Mark, signor, is treason,
without other charge ; your sword, Sir Knight.
Paoli for a moment was undecided. On terra firma he would
not have hesitated, but, with his usual impetuosity and reck-
THE BATTLE OH THE B0SBH0KUS.
61
lessness, have stood upon the defensive, no matter what odds
he should have to encounter.
 For what offence, signor, am I thus arrested ? de-
manded he.
 Treason, signor, calmly replied the officer.
"Treason ! echoed Paoli, bitterly. "On such a charge a
Paoli never surrendered his good sword. Let it sleep in the
waters of your sullen lagunes.
And the same instant he hurled the weapon through the
opening of the awning. He heard the splash of the sword as
it divided the still waters, and a fierce smile was on his lip as
he turned towards the officer, saying,—
 I am ready to do your bidding.
 Where is your gondolier, signor ?  suddenly demanded
one of the strangers, after having carefully searched the boat.
"He was too wise, signor, replied Paoli, "or not polite
enough, to wait your arrival.
The men whispered for a moment. Two of the masked boat-
men entered Paoli's gondola, while the rest, followed by Paoli,
went beneath the dismal awning of the state gondola. Hand-
ing the knight a large mantle and a mask, which allowed
facilities for breathing, but not for seeing, he was requested to
put them on. Without replying he did so, and, throwing him-
self upon a bench, remained buried in thought while the
gondola pulled rapidly away.
One thing Paoli rejoiced at ; and this was the probable
escape of Juliano, who would, without doubt, inform Count
Steno of his arrest. Had the gondolier been taken, his fate
most likely would have been either banishment to some
Venetian colony, or a dungeon for life. So fearful, indeed, and
so terrible was the policy of the Venetian rulers at that period,
and long after, that often in arresting a doomed victim those
witnessing his arrest incurred the sure penalty of at least a
long imprisonment. The fate of the ill-starred family of the
Foscari will be an everlasting stain upon the page of Venetian
history, which neither their glorious deeds nor proud con-
quests will ever efface.
As to the charge of treason, Paoli did not bestow upon it a
thought. He felt the utter impossibility of such an imputa-
tion being maintained for a moment, when examined. What
he dreaded was the long and dreary confinement he might,
notwithstanding the efforts of his powerful friends, undergo
before he would be brought before that mysterious tribunal at
whose name even the proudest and haughtiest noble of Venice
trembled. That Duke Guarnieri had somehow discovered his
residence in Venice was certain. To accuse him of any crime,
62
THE SUJNJN i SOUTH On
however monstrous and improbable, was easy enough. The
open mouths of the two Lions standing at the head of the
Giant's Stairs leading to the interior of St. Mark's Palace were
daily the means through which a vindictive enemy might get
rid of a foe, which no other scheme could remove.
Individuals frequently and mysteriously disappeared from
society, and were no more heard of. Yet no man said,  In the
dungeons of St. Mark, or beneath the leads of that fearful
palace, the victim is to be found. No ! The knowledge of
their fate remained locked within the close recesses of their
own hearts, and even the name o° the wretched lost one
perished.
Strange, that men thus bowed to a power of their own creat-
ing—that ten individuals should thus smite with impunity the
thousands that surrounded them ; and that this secret and
invisible sword should hang constantly over their heads—
sleeping or waking—even in the very chambers of their
palaces, uncertain that the most devoted of their domestics
was not a paid hireling and spy of their tyrants !
The giddy and thoughtless Venetians neveriheless lived
on, glorying in their country's glory—boasting of their
wealth and wide-spread commerce—their days devoted to
luxury—their nights to music, feasting, gambling, and in-
trigue. Bravos walking the purlieus of St. Mark—almost
with impunity—always ready, for a well-filled purse, to rid
any one of a rival ; while the sullen waters of their dark
lagune offered a ready tomb for the victims of private
vengeance or state executions.
Such was Venice during the middle ages; and such it
continued, with little variation, till the first half of the
seventeenth century, when its glory and power began rapidly
to decay. Finally the French Revolution swept it, and its
secret tribunal, from the political face of the globe.
CHAPTER XI.
the council.
Several days had passed over the head of our hero in solitary
confinement. His chamber was a vault beneath the Palace of
St. Mark ; but it was not the terrible dungeon he had pictured
to himself. The furniture, it is true, consisted of nothing more
than a very old oak table and bench, and a tolerable lied ; nor
was it very damp ; but the dim glare of a miserable oil lump
poorly compensated for the exclusion of heaven's light.
Once a day his jailer—a man cased in tight-fitting garments
THE BATTLE OX 'THE B0SPH0RUS. 63
of sable, always masked and always silent—visited him with
food and fresh oil. Two others, similarly habited, paced day
and night without the door ; so at least Paoli judged ; for he
heard the hollow tread of their steps, though the sound of the
human voice never reached his ear.
The Corsican was rapidly losing patience : he began to
imagine his friends had forgotten him, or that their interest
and power was as nothing with the terrible few that governed
Venice.
 Surely,'' thought the knight, as he paced the narrow limits
of his chamber,  the mere accusation of a German free-booter
could not, even with the tyrants of Venice, thus condemn a
man to this cruel injustice.
At length, at the expiration of the tenth day, four sable in-
dividuals entered his chamber, and one of them, handing him
a mask, similar to that which had blindfolded him on his
entrance to the vaults beneath San Marco, said, in a low voice,—
 Remove not your mask till desired—I will conduct you,
signor. Be silent.
Rejoiced at seeing these symptoms of a change, Paoli obeyed
with alacrity ; and after traversing innumerable passages, but
without mounting or descending any steps, his guides stopped.
Not a sound, save the reverberating echo of their own footsteps,
disturbed the tomb-like silence of those dreary vaults. The
very air—cold, damp, and noxious—struck a chill to the heart.
But the unshrinking spirit of the Corsican repelled the ap-
proaches of fear, and when the man who had guided him said,
in a low tone,  Remove your mask, he did so, with a rapid
and impatient movement. There was nothing very remarkable
or terrifying in what he beheld. He was standing alone (for his
guides were gone) in the middle of a circular chamber, the walls
of which were hung round with black cloth. Prom the roof
was suspended a large lamp, casting a strong and steady light
upon a large table, also covered by black cloth; together with
writing materials, a missal, and a crucifix of silver. At this
table sat a man, with a half silk mask over the face ; and
behind him, on a slightly raised platform, sat three signors,
<■ enveloped in sable mantles and completely masked.
For several moments there was a profound silence. Paoli
stood calmly regarding the motionless figures of his three
judges. His powerful and magnificent figure, on which the
rays of the lamp fell, showed to peculiar advantage against the
sable drapery of the chamber; his face was somewhat paler,
from his short confinement, but his dark and intelligent eyes
were fixed upon his judges with as bright and piercing a gaze
as ever.
64
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OB,
 Signor Paoli, said one of the masked judges, in a low, but
not unpleasing voice, and drawing his chair in advance of the
other two,  Signor Paoli, you stand before us charged with the
crime of treason to the Government of Venice—of being in the
secret service of Genoa—and of being leagued with others to
overturn the existing Government of this State.
It was with difficulty that the Corsican could restrain him-
self during the recital of his supposed crimes, so truly ridiculous
did they seem to him.
 Such are the charges brought against you, continued the
mask, not heeding the impatient gesture of the Corsican.
 Now, signor, before you answer the questions that will be
put to you, take that crucifix and swear by your Redeemer to
answer with truth to those interrogations. Answer briefly,
and with strict integrity ; and, if innocent, you have nothing
to fear.
Paoli did as he was required, and then calmly waited the
issue.
"By birth, began the inquisitor, "you are a Corsican. As
such you have passed yourself in society since your residence
in Venice. From what motive did you quit your native
land 1
 To save my head, signor, upon which the Genoese Govern-
ment was pleased to set an exorbitant price.
As Paoli spoke, the secretary at the table wrote down each
question and answer.
 You were, or are, a proscribed man, then. Was it forrebel-
lion against the Genoese Government that a price was set upon
your head 1 
"No, signor, hastily replied the Corsican ; and his voice—
for he spoke indignai#ly—rang through the vaulted chamber.
 If the galleys of Genoa invaded your lagunes, and your citi-
zens took up arms to repel them, would you stigmatize the
patriots with the name of rebels ? No, signor, I was proscribed
because the name of Paoli was the watch-word of freedom. As
well might the wolf and the lamb form a social compact as a
Paoli accede to any terms with the cruel oppressors of his
native land. So much, signors, for your charge of being in the
pay of Genoa.
 You must answer with less intemperance, signor, inter-
rupted the mask, in a quick and angry voice.  Confine your-
self to answering questions, and do not anticipate them. What
was your motive in seeking to enter into the service of the
Venetian Republic V'
"To strike another blow, replied Paoli,  at the hated foe
of my country. I heard war was declared against Genoa ; that
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORTJS.
65
was one reason for preferring the service of Yenice. Another
was, that in the Marchese Tiepolo I had a second father, who
would, I felt certain, forward my views.
 You accompanied the Marchese and his family to the
masked ball, given at the Ducal Palace. Now, during the fes-
tivities at the palace, did anything unusual occur to you 1
 Nothing uncommon, I am told, in Yenice, signor; but
merely an attempt upon my life by some unknown mis-
creant.
 Were you able to arrest the author of this attempt upon
your life 1
 I was not so fortunate, replied Paoli.  He escaped by
taking refuge in some of the passages leading from that part
of the palace devoted to the festivities.
 Did you enter any of the chambers not set apart for the
reception of the guests 1 
 I lost myself in pursuing the person who attempted my
life. Two ushers, whom I encountered, informed me I was
entering forbidden apartments ; and, on my giving my name
and address, conducted me without the palace.
 Signor Paoli, continued the inquisitor, in a very marked
tone,  previous to meeting the ushers of the palace, did you
behold any other person, known or unknown, to you 1
 I certainly was surprised, returned the Corsican, after a
moment's pause, "on beholding, traversing the chambers of
the Ducal Palace, a German leader of Condottieri, styled Duke
Guarnieri.
 You are acquainted, then, demanded the inquisitor,
 with Duke Guarnieri 1
 I met him some months back in the Florentine States.
Chance threw me in his way ; but our intimacy consisted in a
very eager endeavour on the part of the Duke to take my life,
in revenge for my having, the day previously, slain his only
son, Ludovico Guarnieri, in defence of a party of travellers,
attacked by him and his lawless adherents.
 Slew Ludovico Guarnieri!  echoed the Venetian, with a
start, while two silent figures behind the inquisitor whispered
for a moment.
There was a pause of some moments, during which the in-
quisitor drew an ivory tablet from his vest, looked at it, made
some mark, and then said,—
 Was Duke Guarnieri alone when you saw him ? And was
he aware that you beheld him 1 
 The German followed a guide, signor, replied the knight.
 He could not be aware of my presence, as I was behind a
pillar of the saloon.
E
66 THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OK,
"Now, Sigtior Paoli, continued the Venetian, speaking
slowly and emphatically,  on the next two or three questions
in a great measure rests your fate. Hitherto you have
answered without hesitation. Answer me_ now in the same
spirit. Where did you see Duke Guarnieri go after entering
the gallery in which you beheld him ? 
 I saw him enter a chamber directly facing where I stood.
 Did you see within that chamber ? 
 It was but a very brief glance that I cast within that
chamber ; so momentary, in truth, that what my gaze there
rested upon was more like a vision, so rapidly did the door
close.
"Nevertheless, quietly returned the questioner, in a some-
what sterner voice,  you did see within that chamber. What
did you see ? 
 I had a rapid glance, signor, of a large table covered with
crimson cloth, and round that table stood several signors un-
masked.
"Were any of those unmasked signors, eagerly demanded
the inquisitor, leaning forward, "known to you, Signor Paoli,
by sight or remembrance 1
During his examination, Paoli, though answering briefly to
the questions put to him, was nevertheless busy with his
thoughts. There was something more in his examination than
the apparent purpose of finding him guilty of the charges laid
against him. The evident anxiety of the inquisitor, as he
continued his interrogations, especially the last few questions,
caused the Corsican to pause for a moment at the last ques-
tion. »
 Perhaps, thought he,  I may by my answer be bringing
destruction on others.
"You hesitate, Signor Paoli, said the Venetian, sternly.
 Beware how you trifle with those appointed to hear you. I
once more demand—Did you recognize within that chamber,
into which you saw Duke Guarnieri enter, any countenance
known to you 1
 Signor, replied Paoli, calmly,  I have sworn to answer
your questions briefly and truly. I tell you again, the time
allowed me to look within that room was so momentary, and
my acquaintance with the faces I was merely able to glance at
so very limited, that I cannot positively assert, and still less
swear, to the face of any individual in that chamber.
The inquisitor half rose from his chair, and stretched forth
his hand towards a small silver bell upon the table. The other
figures appeared agitated. But, re-seating himself, the in-
quisitor, in a low, bitter tone, said,—
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORtrg.
67
 Once more I bid you beware. There are other means at
hand to unlock the unruly tongues of traitors.
The fierce temper of the Corsican was now roused, and the
hot blood rushed to cheek and temple.
"Traitor !  echoed he, in a voice that startled all present,
so deep and passionate were its tones—"Traitor ! Who dares
say a Paoli is a traitor 1 Where are your proofs ? What
single word or deed can you lay to my charge 1
 Silence, rash man !  exclaimed one of the hitherto silent
signors behind the inquisitor.  You shall have proofs.
Making a sign, the secretary at the table opened a drawer,
and, taking out a bundle of papers, selected two. They were
letters.
 Hand one to the prisoner, said the questioner of Paoli.
 Look at that address, he continued, as the Corsican, with
some surprise, took the letter from the table.
 It is directed to me, replied the knight;  but I know
neither the writing nor the letter, which I never had in my
hand before.
"Take care, Signor Paoli, take care, said the Venetian,
sneeringly.  Read its contents.
Paoli did so, and with perfect calmness.
 I can only say, signor, said he,  that the whole is an
accursed falsehood—a tissue of improbabilities. I know
nothing of it or its writer, and cannot understand the object of
my name being so used.
"And yet, S.gnor Paoli, that letter, and two others much to
the same purport, were found amongst your papers, and seized
the same night you were arrested, when your apartments in
the Tiepolo Palace were searched and your papers secured.
You deny those letters.
Laying his hand upon the bell, it rang clear and distinct in
the silence that reigned around.
Paoli now awaited the result with considerable curiosity.
He plainly perceived there was something deeper in the plot
against him than the mere accusation of an anonymous-letter,
dropped into the lion's mouth, as he considered, by an agent of
Duke Guarnieri.
In a few moments the sable cloth was thrown back, and two
figures, similar to those who served as his guides, came for-
ward, conducting a tall man, closely muffled and masked. At
a sign, the two familiars disappeared.
Turning towards the masked figure, who had advanced to
within a few steps of the Corsican, the inquisitor said,—
 Swear by that crucifix to answer with truth any question
I may demand.
E 2
68
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
The stranger took the oath required; hut Paoli, who oh-
served his movements keenly, thought his hand shook as he
grasped the image of his Redeemer.
 Now, signor, answer me, continued the inquisitor.  Do
you recognize the face and person of the prisoner beside
you ?
 I do, signor, replied the stranger, in a low but audible voice.
Paoli thought he had heard the voice before ; but no effort
could recall the time or person.
 Who is the prisoner 1  demanded the inquisitor.
 A Corsican by birth : his name Giacinto Paoli.
Turning to the secretary, the Venetian said,—
 Read aloud that letter of which the prisoner denies all
knowledge.
In a distinct tone the secretary read the following lines :—
 Amico mio,—You were wrong to trust Beltramo Di Ber-
gamo : he is too timid for a command, besides being devoted
as a slave to the family of Nicolo Lioni—a greater tyrant than
any of your Genoese rulers. However, we have guarded
against that. Sixteen is now our number. The tolling of
the bell of San Marco—never rung except by order of the
Doge—is the signal. Your love of freedom, and hatred of
tyrants, make you the fit associate of those who have sworn to
crush every noble in Venice, and rid the earth of a race of
despots.
After a moment's pause, the inquisitor demanded of the
mask if he knew the writer of that letter ?
 Signor, I do.
 Name him.
 Bertucci Faliero, nephew of Marino Faliero, the Doge.
 And that letter was written, pursued the inquisitor,  and
intended for whom 1
 It was directed to Giacinto Paoli, and written by me.
Before a word could be said, Paoli strode across the chamber.
His passion was roused beyond all control: in his rage, he saw
not the confusion amongst the inquisitor and his colleagues,
but, seizing the masked stranger in a grasp of iron, he tore the
mask from his face, exclaiming,—
"Villain and liar ! What could have prompted you to such
a crime 1 
As the mask fell to the ground, Paoli gazed with astonish-
ment upon the features of the stranger, who was, in truth,
Bertucci Faliero. Paoli had seen him often at the Palace
Tiepolo. Before the Corsican's arrival, Bertucci was an eager
suitor for the hand of the Marchese's daughter, the Lady
Paulina.
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
69
In his astonishment, Paoli heeded not the loud ringing of
the bell, at the sound of which six figures, in sable garments,
hastily entered the chamber.
 Seize those traitors !  fiercely and loudly exclaimed the
inquisitor.
The first that advanced was felled to the ground, senseless,
by the excited Corsican, who, losing all command of his fiery
temper, would, doubtless, have sacrificed his life and those of
others, when a concealed door was hastily thrown open, and a
signor, richly habited and unmasked, followed by three others,
wearing their masks, entered the chamber.
At a signal from this signor, the familiars, who had drawn
their short swords, worn beneath their mantles, fell back.
Even Paoli stood transfixed ; for in the signor, richly habited
and unmasked, he beheld the features of the noblest of the
"Venetian nobility—one reverenced and loved by all classes,
and whom Paoli knew to be the most powerful member of the
Council of Ten—Giovanni Gradinegro, whom he had often seen
at the Palace of the Marchese Tiepolo.
As Paoli stood looking at the Marchese Gradinegro, the
masked signor behind him for an instant raised his mask.
Starting with surprise, the Corsican beheld the features of
Count Steno. With a warning gesture, the mask was replaced.
 Signor Paoli, this intemperate passion and outrage against
your appointed judges, observed the Marchese Gradinegro,
addressing the Corsican,  would in any court have led to
fatal consequences. Had you mastered your temper but a
very few moments, your deliverance was at hand ; for I came
hither for the express purpose of declaring you perfectly inno-
cent of all the charges laid against you. How that knowledge
has been obtained, it is not the custom of this tribunal to dis-
close. You were brought here on a most serious charge, at the
very time a plot has been discovered, thanks to Divine Provi-
dence, that had for its intention not only to overthrow the
existing government, but the massacre of the entire Venetian
nobility. You can find no fault with your judge that he
endeavoured, by the utmost ingenuity, to find you guilty or
not guilty.
 Pardon me, my lord, interrupted Paoli, struck by the
impressive manner and voice of Gradinegro,  I found no fault
with my judge. My unpardonable intemperance and passion
was first excited by being threatened with torture.
The Marchese started slightly, and looked round at Paoli's
inquisitor. If the inquisitor beheld the look of Gradinegro,
his mask prevented the betrayal of his feelings. Paoli con-
tinned,—
70
THE SUNNY SOUTH J OB,
a This signor, pointing to Bertucci Faliero, who stood with
folded arms, gazing with a look of fixed despair upon Gradi-
negro,  this signor was examined ; and he stated that the
letters, accusing me of treason, and, by their purport, leading
my judges to suppose I was joined in the very plot of which
you, my lord, speak, were written by him. God knows, I have
oorne much with patience ; but when the signor, who was
then masked, suddenly avowed that he it was that wrote the
cursed letters, a burning desire to unmask the traitor over-
powered my reason and judgment. That Bertucci Faliero
should degrade himself thus, and for what reason—as 1 never,
in word or deed, injured him—I leave it to him to say.
Giovanni Gradinegro, who was destined to be the next Doge
of Venice, stood leaning his arm upon a chair, apparently lis-
tening to the Corsican.
 Bertucci Faliero/' said the Marchese, in a low and melan-
choly tone of voice, addressing that individual,  you have
already been tried and judged. Why 
At that moment, the inquisitor who had examined Paoli
rose from his chair, and, approaching the Marchese, whispered
a sentence in his ear. Gradinegro started—paused a moment
—and then said,—
 Be it so. Let the prisoners he removed to their cells till
to-morrow.
"To-morrow! bitterly muttered the unfortunate Faliero,
Then, rapidly turning to the Corsican, he said, in a quick, agi-
tated tone,  Signor Paoli, I have deeply wronged you. When
brought here, it was not expected I would declare myself the
author of those letters.
 Remove the prisoner! exclaimed the inquisitor, Gradi-
negro having already left the chamber.
 Farewell !'' exclaimed Faliero.  Forgive me. I spoke to
save you. To-morrow will behold me hanging between the
red columns of St. Mark, but my last breath shall be spent in
a curse upon our tyrants.
As he struggled to utter those words, he was hurried from
the chamber, as was also Paoli, and re-conducted to his cell.
CHAPTER XII.
the execution.
The memorable morning of the 17th of April broke over
the broad lagune, and the lordly city of Venice, with all the
splendour of a southern spring. At a very early hour, the
piazzas of San Marco were thronged with countless numbers ;
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
71
yet, though the sun shone, darting its bright beams upon pin-
nacles and towers—upon the noble column of the Piazza and
Piazzetta of St. Mark—and though the waters of the lagnne
sparkled like gold, and the light barques of the Venetians, as
they shot past, urged by the gentle breeze that merely played
upon the waters, appeared like gigantic birds with their wings
spread (for the latine sails of the early times, set  wing on
wing, as mariners term it in the Mediterranean, have that
appearance), yet, with all the beauty and splendour of the
scene around, the vast crowd that thronged the square seemed
struck by the goddess of Silence. Groups moved along with
ominous looks—many with scowling features and violent ges-
tures. But one thing was certain, namely, that all eyes were
directed towards the red columns of St. Mark in the Piazzetta ;
and certainly the sight that there met the eye was quite suffi-
cient to erase all the( beauty of the surrounding scenery from
the thoughts and sight of the multitude.
Between the red columns, hung, some singly, some in groups,
were numerous bodies ; while, in a more conspicuous manner,
were suspended the two bodies of Bertucci Israello, admiral of
the arsenal, and guardian of the Bucentaur, and Phillipo
Calendaro, a seaman of much skill and repute. Both these
conspirators, with a cruel precaution, were gagged previously
to being ignominiously hung.
Leaving the dismayed citizens to gaze upon the unexpected
and hideous scene before them, return we to Giacinto Paoli, on
the 18th of April, 1355, the day following the execution of the
conspirators. The door of his prison on that morning was
thrown open, and two of his usual jailers entered the cell,
followed by a masked personage carrying a large mantle and
mask, which the Corsican was requested to put on, and follow
his guides.
 One request, Signor Paoli, observed his conductor, as they
prepared to quit the cell.  If you value your liberty or life,
preserve a strict silence, no matter what you either see or
hear. If you follow this advice, in two days you will regain
your liberty. Failure in doing so will lead to imprisonment,
perhaps for life.
The speaker was evidently one of a higher station than those
who accompanied him ; Paoli, therefore, considered this warn-
ing was given either by a friend, or by the order of one, for
hitherto no word of any kind had passed between him and his
jailers or guides.
After traversing innumerable passages, sometimes but dimly
lighted by a single lamp at long intervals ; at others, led by
72
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
his guides through a labyrinth of dark passages ; they at length
began to mount a long flight of stone stairs.
As they ascended, Paoli thought the sound of human voices
reached his ear ; and in a few moments he became convinced
that the confused hum of many tongues was audible. Having
reached the summit of the stairs, and passed along a dark
corridor, they stopped before a folding-door. _
Paoli felt his arm grasped, as a voice whispered in his
ear,—
 Beware ! be silent !
The next instant he was gently impelled through the door,
and at once stood transfixed with horror at the scene before
him, for the mask, though it concealed his features, did not
obstruct his sight. At first, he was dazzled by the glorious
light of day. But that passed off, and he gazed anxiously
around. He first perceived that he was standing in a row of
about twenty figures, habited and masked in exactly the same
manner as himself. In fact, except for his towering stature, no
distinction could be made between him and other indivi-
duals of the group. At a glance, Paoli saw that he was on
one side of the platform on the summit of the great staircase
leading into the Ducal Palace, styled the Giant's Stairs. The
great folding-doors were closed ; but the murmur of countless
voices from without came upon the ear. Before him was a
sight that chilled his blood, as his eyes rested upon its prin-
cipal features. It was a scene that impressed itself upon his
memory with a startling vividness—one that was never for-
gotten in after life. In the middle of the great platform of
the Giant's Stairs was a blpck, covered with crimson cloth ;
beside it stood a figure there was no mistaking—it was the
headsman of San Marco,' leaning with his bare and brawny
arms upon a long-handled and highly-polished axe. As usual
with all the myrmidons of the secret tribunals of Yenice, his
features were concealed by a mask. Near the block stood a
venerable friar, holding a crucifix, and at his feet knelt a
human being. Upon a bench, covered with crimson cloth, sat
ten signors, wrapped in crimson mantles, and masked. These
were the ten rulers of Yenice.
As Paoli gazed, scarcely breathing, the kneeling figure
arose, and, standing erect, presented to the astonished and
horror-stricken gaze of the Corsican the noble but pale fea-
tures of the Doge of Venice, Marino Faliero.
 Merciful God ! can this be possible 1 thought Paoli, as he
shudderingly beheld the noble old man advance with a firm
step towards the executioner. He that in his youth h^,d carried
THE BATTLE ON THE B0SPH0RTJS.
73
the banner of the Lion in proud triumph over sea and land,
knelt and laid his venerable head upon the block. The priest
staggered forward, and held the crucifix to his lips, extending
his hands over the white locks of the noble victim.
A signal was given, and the next instant Marino Faliero
slept with his fathers.
 Throw open the great gates !  exclaimed the stern voice of
a senator.
This being done, a mighty multitude, with hoarse murmurs,
filled the hall. The body-guards of the Republic, in their
gorgeous armour, kept back the mob, as one of the Ten com-
manded the executioner to hold out the gory head, while, cast-
ing aside his mask, he advanced to the edge of the platform,
ejaculating,—
"Venetians, justice has been executed upon a great of-
fender. *
A profound and awful stillness for a moment pervaded the
vast assemblage. The next, a wild and triumphant shout burst
from the lips of a fickle populace—from the same base throats
that, but twelve months before, and on the self-same sp>ot, had
greeted that gory head as their lord and master.
Shocked, disgusted, and sick at heart, Paoli felt his arm
seized, and, having been conducted through the same door,
without exchanging a single word with his conductors, he
again found himself the solitary inmate of his prison-cell.
Two days after, he again was led into the chamber where his
first examination took place. Only three persons occupied the
room. Contrary to his expectation, all three were unmasked,
but their features were totally unknown to him.
 Signor Paoli, began one of the signors,  I am happy to
inform you that in less than an hour you will quit these halls,
and be restored to liberty. You have been accused of a State
crime. Before now, such an accusation has cost a life. You
have been declared free from all participation in the crimes
laid to your charge. Nevertheless, we cannot hold you alto-
gether free from error. It is therefore considered necessary,
for State reasons, that you should be banished the city of
Venice for a period of three years. Let it be understood,
signor, that should you be found within the city or lagune,
your life is forfeited to the State.
Paoli felt his cheek flush, but he uttered not a word.
"Though banished from Venice, continued the Venetian,
 you are still at liberty to serve under her banner ; and all her
dependencies and colonies are open to you. It is understood
* Historical—Lanuto.
74
THE SUNNV SOUTH J OK,
that you wish to serve under the Republic. Do so with the
courage and integrity you have hitherto manifested, and you
will find, that if Venetian rulers can punish, they can also
reward. You will be landed on the opposite shores of the
lagune. The fleet of Admiral Pisani lies off Ravenna, waiting
final orders. The galley of the Marchese Tiepolo is with the
fleet. You can join her there. I need not, therefore, Signor
Paoli, say more, nor remind you that any infringement of the
sentence pronounced against you will be your ruin.
At a signal from the Venetian, Paoli was led from the
chamber, immersed in profound and painful thought. With-
out heeding the tortuous paths through which he followed his
guides, he came at length to the brink of a dark and narrow
canal, on whose sluggish waters lay a long and hearse-like
gondola. Two figures, muffled and masked, sat under the
canopy of the boat ; while six oarsmen, with the badges of the
Republic on their arms, reclined on the benches.
Paoli was requested to take his seat beside the two silent
figures. The black drapery was then drawn closely down, and
the gondola moved slowly through the canal. Presently, the
light of day came faintly—then stronger and stronger ; and
Paoli became conscious that they were moving through one of
the frequented canals of Venice. He heard the splash of oars,
the songs of the gondoliers, and the murmur of many voices, as
they passed and repassed the countless barques navigating the
water-streets of Venice.
During the two hours that the voyage lasted, not a word was
spoken by those within the gondola. At the end of that period,
the keel of the boat grated upon a shingly beach.
One of the masked signors now motioned to Paoli to follow
him, and, leaving the gondola, they leaped upon the strand.
Wrapped in a deep reverie, the Corsican scarcely heeded the
masked personage that followed his steps, as he ascended the
somewhat steep bank where the boat touched the beach.
Having reached the summit,) he paused and looked back
over the scarcely rippling waters of the broad lagune that
lay _ sparkling in the sun's rays between him and lordly
Venice.
 Yes, soliloquized Paoli, as he gazed, unconscious of the
presence of the masked figure that still stood within a few steps
of where he paused— Yes, and he spoke half aloud, "thou
art fair and lovely to look at ; but, gorgeous and magnificent
as thou art, and styled Queen of the Adriatic, I would rather,
now I know thee, have no canopy but that which at this
moment covers me, than breathe the polluted air which sighs
through thy gilded chambers ! 
THE BATTIiE ON THE BOSPHORTTS.
75
a Speak not so harshly of my native city, Giacinto, said a
voice behind him.
Turning round with a start of joyful surprise, he beheld
Count Steno by his side. The friends grasped each other's
hands with fervour, while Steno led Paoli beneath the shelter
of a low fence.
 Here we are removed from observation, My time is short,
and I have much to say.
Seating themselves upon the ruins of some former temple,
Count Steno resumed,—
 You have had, amico mio, a painful trial of our Venetian
rulers, and been somehow most strangely mixed up, though
perfectly innocent, in one of the vilest plots that ever entered
the human mind.
 But surely—for my brain is bewildered with what I have
seen—surely, exclaimed Paoli, "your venerable Doge could
have no part in this plot. Merciful Heaven ! even were he
guilty, could not his station—his grey hairs—and, above all,
his former glory, save him from so ignoble a death ?
 Not with the rulers of Venice, returned Steno.  No ; his
crime was no . less than the overturning of the State, and the
massacre of the entire nobility. But time passes. I must not
loiter, or even I may be made to feel the rod. And Steno
smiled somewhat bitterly.  Listen to me, Giacinto. Harbour
no feeling of hostility to Venice for what you have suffered.
As to the banishment, it is nothing ; nearly half the time
specified will expire before this expedition can be accomplished.
The first brilliant action you perform will assuredly cause the
revocation of your sentence. Besides, belie e me, you are
about the only individual accused of a State cri re, innocent or
guilty, that ever left the dungeons of St. Mark .vithout being
put to the question. <
 For that I may thank you, replied Paoli.
 Nay, Paoli, you had powerful friends besides Michaello
Steno. I first heard of your arrest from Julian o, who most
wisely, being an expert diver and swimmer, swam aboard a
fishing-boat, and then, without a moment's loss of time, found
me out. I managed to get you confined where ~rou were;
otherwise, you would have been put under the leads ; and this
being near summer, you would have stood a good chance of
being roasted. I next applied to the Marchese Spolino, with
whose daughter, Bianca, you are a special favourite. And, to
tell you the truth, when you were struck by the assassin at the
Ducal Palace, I thought it was a friendly warning from some
lover of hers.
 As a member of the Council of Forty, I soon learned that
76
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OB,
you were accused of being a spy ; and I ascertained that the
accusation came through that accursed channel, the lion's
mouth. But, to my astonishment, I soon found that you stood
in a much more dangerous predicament. Your papers were
seized ; and, to my utter amazement, I learned that a most
frightful plot had that day been discovered by Beltramo Di
Bergamo ; as one of the conspirators he betrayed the whole
affair, names of the chief plotters, &c., to the Lioni, his patron,
in order to save his life.
 Beltramo was secured. Amongst numerous persons seized
was a squire of Duke Guarnieri; for you must know that the
unfortunate Marino Faliero was in secret treaty with this
orbndam friend of yours, and actually had a conference with
him in the Ducal Palace the night of the masked ball.
 It was my declining to communicate my knowledge of that
meeting, said Paoli, that was near leading me to the torture
which I should undoubtedly have undergone but for the
opportune arrival of the Marchese Gradinegro.
"Yes, continued Steno, "and it was your keeping the
occurrence of that night from my knowledge that led to
your being arrested. But of one thing you are ignorant. The
inquisitor who examined you was as bitter a rival of yours as
the unfortunate Bertucci Faliero. You were examined a whole
hour before the appointed time ; for the Marchese intended
being present at your examination without your being aware
of it ; the preference shown you by the Lady Paulina raised up
against you two powerful and vindictive enemies. Bertucci
Faliero was one ; the other's name must remain untold.
Several of the persons seized were put to the torture.
Guarnieri's squire broke down at once, and confessed his
master's having passed forty-eight hours in Venice. I was
present; and, suspecting that your friend, the Duke, was
the party who had accused you of being a spy, I examined the
prisoner ; but he very stoutly denied all knowledge of the
letters. An extra turn of the wheel, however, altered his con-
fession; and you were cleared. There still remained the
three letters found amongst your papers. Bertucci Faliero
had undergone the torture, and confessed his share of the plot
to massacre the nobility ; but, of course, was not suspected of
having anything to do with you. No mention was made of
your name. Remorse, and a knowledge that his fate was past
hope, caused him to accuse himself, when brought up to con-
demn you, by swearing to his knowledge of ,the letters
being written to you. However, for State reasons, I must
say no more upon that subject. Had we not arrived as we did,
you certainly would have played the devil amongst the
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHOKUS.
77
familiars of St. Mark ; and assuredly to this outbreak of
passion you owe your three years of banishment—a very
trifling punishment to you, my dear Giacinto, whatever it
might be to a Venetian wedded to the pleasures of Venice.
The intense anxiety of the good Marchese Tiepolo, and the
ladies Julia and Paulina—ah! my friend, how is it, added
Steno, in a tone of much feeling, how is it you can have been
so blind, or so indifferent, to the smiles of one of the fairest and
sweetest of the daughters of Venice 1
Paoli bent his head in mental abstraction : he pressed the
hand of his friend, but did not trust his voice to speak. Could
he have returned that night to Venice, he would have thrown
himself at the feet of Paulina, and supplicated for that love
which he had so heedlessly cast away. But it was not to be.
Though disappointed in the first love of her young heart,
Paulina was yet to love, and be beloved, and to give birth to a
long line of a princely race.
There was a silence of some moments between the young
men, each employed with his own thoughts. At length Steno
spoke, saying,—
"We must part, Giacinto. Three years in our youth is no-
thing. If we are spared, we shall meet, please God, in better
and happier times. Here is a long letter from the Marchese ;
and this, holding forth a well-remembered jewel,  is a token
of Paulina's friendship. Julia sends this also, with her sincere
wish for your prosperity and happiness.
Paoli received the gifts with a sigh of deep regret. He
looked at the costly jewel of the fair Venetian till his eyes
grew moist, and his heart beat with a quicker pulsation.
The Count beheld his friend's emotion.
 You may roam the world, Giacinto, said Steno, pressing
the Corsican's hand, and looking fixedly in his face, "you may
sip from the cup of pleasure ; but nowhere will you find truer
hearts than in the place you leave behind you. Look, point-
ing to a thick cluster of trees about a mile from where they
Stood,  behind yon coppice you will find your squire, Pulini,
your mails, and two stout steeds to convey you to JEtavenna.
Everything has been thought of and provided by the Marchese
on board the galley. You will be well received by Pisani, the
admiral; and his son longs for your_arrival. You will soon
distinguish yourself; for the Dalmatian coast is lined, I am
told, with the war galleys of Genoa. And now, God bless you,
dear friend ! 
The gay, thoughtless, volatile Count Steno was deeply
affected. The friends embraced. They looked in each other's
features, as if to treasure the remembrance ; and, with many
78
THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR,
warm and grateful remembrances from Giacinto to the
Marchese, Marchesa, and family, Michaello Steno and Paoli
parted.
CHAPTER XIII.
AGNES ALVIANO.
We must now request our readers to step with us across the
wide space of sea and shore, and permit us to land them in the
middle of the Byzantium of the Greeks ; then very different
indeed from the far-famed Stamboul of the Turks. The man-
sion of the Venetian merchant, Bartolomeo Alviano, though
its front looked into one of the best streets of the city, the
rear of the mansion, and the part inhabited by the family of the
wealthy merchant, commanded a view of one of the loveliest
scenes the human eye could wish to rest upon.
Standing upon the verandah, that stretched along the centre
length of the mansion, the gaze, after passing a rather exten-
sive and tastefully arranged garden, and some low houses and
warehouses bordeiing the waters of the harbour, roamed over
that lovely lake, with its beautifully sloping hills, rich in
vegetation, in groves, and studded with countless mansions,
erected in the purest taste of Grecian architecture. The
glorious waters of the Bosphorus next came in view, studded
with countless picturesque crafts of the middle ages, such as
the Carrick, with its ponderous and towering masts, the gor-
geous galleys of the Emperor, with their silken streamers, and
flags flaunting in the breeze, and the singular but picturesque
barques of the Thracian fishefmen. Skimming the surface of
the water, like birds, were hundreds of latines of various
forms from the islands, mingling with the long and sharp war-
galleys of the Florentines and Venetians. The singular and
diversified costumes of sailors of the many nations and tribes
frequenting the waters of the Bosphorus, gave additional
animation to the } ros^ect; and the mariners' songs—for
many of the wild boatmen of Scutari and the sailors from the
Black Sea sang thAr rude, but still pleasing, national ditties,
as they plied the car, or set their lofty sails—ascended at
times, clear and di- Anct, to the ear of those who either walked
or reposed beneath the shade of the verandah. Numerous
beautiful and raie plants stood in handsome vases in different
parts of this baAony ; many climbed and spread their luxu-
riaro; blossoms over the trellis work of the pillars, and shed a
ric u perfume.
It was in the month of September, of the same year in
The battle on o?hE bosphortjs.
79
which the ill-fated Doge of Venice lost his throne and life.
The great heat of the climate was then tempered by fine
breezes from the sea ; and though the sky was cloudless, the
rays of the evening sun could be borne without suffering
inconvenience.
Seated at the open windows of a magnificent saloon, looking
into the balcony just described, were two ladies; the younger
employed in reading, the elder , in embroidering some fancy
ornaments.
The elder lady, though about forty years of age, was still
very handsome, and graceful in person. She was the Signora
Tolmeo, widow of a Venetian merchant, who had been en-
gaged in commerce in the then small town and port of
Livorno. The signor was distantly connected with the old
cavalero, Tolosino, whom we encountered in the early chapters
of this volume, as the guardian of the young Agnes Alviano.
The Signora Tolmeo had lost her husband by the great pes-
tilence, as it was styled, and unfortunately at a period of
great embarrassment. The Cavalero Tolosino immediately
offered her an asylum ; for, during the few weeks that Agnes
had passed at her castle, both ladies became attached to each
other, and when Agnes was embarking for Byzantium she
implored the Signora Tolmeo to accompany her and reside
with her for the future.
Having no family or home, and few.connections, the widow,
who had learned to love the gentle girl with a mother's affec-
tion, willingly consented.
And a great happiness it proved to both parties. The
Signor Alviano received with the greatest kindness the com-
pan ion his daughter had selected; appointed her a suite of
apartments; and soon found that a most pleasing addition
had been made to his family.
At this period Agnes Alviano had reached her eighteenth
year. If she had been accounted lovely and fascinating as a
girl springing into womanhood, how much more captivating
and beautiful was she q,t the period we now present her to
our readers.
Above the general standard of the sex, her fine and grace-
ful figure derived an air of conscious dignity from the purity
and beauty of her mind. Her hair, of glossy blackness, cor-
responded with .brilliant eyes of the same dark hue; and the
finely arched and pencilled eyebrows, upon a forehead exqui-
sitely fair, left the beholder nothing to wish. In mind,
temper, and disposition Agnes Alviano was all the fondest
parent could wish or pray for; and the worthy Signor
80
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
Alviano's whole heart and soul was wrapped up in the love of
his only and lovely daughter.
Before the outbreak between Venice and Genoa many of the
nobility of the two rival republics visited at the hospitable
mansion of the wealthy merchant. Many Venetian families
of consideration dwelt in Byzantium ; and, in the adj oining
colony of Pera, a Genoese settlement, were residing some of
the highest Genoese nobility.
The court of the Emperor Paloesgus, though fearfully re-
duced in power and magnificence, was still, though near its
final extinction, a gay and splendid one.
If Paulina was the reigning beauty of the Venetian aris-
tocracy, Agnes Alviano, the heiress of the wealthy merchant,
was the boast of the European maidens of Byzantium. Many
a Venetian youth strove to gain her affections ; but we cannot
look into that wonderful mystery—a woman's heart; for
though many a suitor could boast a handsome person, a proud
name, and knightly deeds, the maiden's heart, in September,
1355, was still apparently unconquered.
 Cara mia, exclaimed the Signora Tolmeo, looking up
from her embroidery, and perceiving that the fair Agnes sat
with her book upori|her knee, while her gaze was fixed as if
on vacancy,  Cara mia, you are in the clouds.
Agnes smiled, saying,  In truth I was, in fancy, far from
Byzantium. I suppose my father's intention of quitting this
imperial city has sent my mind back to Venice. I was just
then, continued the maiden,  thinking of my cousins, espe-
cially of Paulina.
 And, interrupted the signora,  of this new lover of hers,
who, report declares, will speedily scatter his Venetian rivals
from their dreams. Did not the young Count Morisini say
their marriage was to take place the same day Lady Julia
gives her hand to Count Steno 1
 Something of the kind he certainly said, replied Agnes,
thoughtfully.  Still Paulina, in her letters, brought by the
Count now nearly seven months ago, mentions nothing of the
sort; but merely describes this Corsican knight as one of the
finest specimens of the preux chevalier she ever beheld. How
very strange, carissima, that Paulina's lover, if lover he be, and
my gallant deliverer should be one and the same person (for it
is not very likely that two individuals with one appellation
should be rambling over Italy in search of adventures), and
that he should, for a time, be a resident in the palace of my
uncle. The Marchese, Paulina says, is as much attached to
him as to a favourite son.
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORtTS.
81
"Did he not mention to the Cavalero Tolosino, inquired
the signora,  where he was going when he so opportunely
released you from the hands of that German robber ?
 In truth, replied Agnes,  but little time was allowed for
conversation. My guardian was extremely anxious to get as
far away from the scene of our disaster as possible. The
knight merely said his name was Giacinto Paoli, a Corsican
exile, and that he was proceeding to Florence. I cannot think
how it is, continued Agnes,  that no vessel from Venice has
reached this port. It is now more than six months since we
received those letters by the Count Alberto Morisini.
 Is there not a report that the mouth of the Adriatic is
blockaded by a powerful Genoese fleet under Admiral Doria 1
If so, that easily accounts for no intelligence from Venice,
remarked the signora.  Indeed, your father fears a long and
tedious contest in those seas ; and that reason, combined with
some others, has induced him to wind up his mercantile
affairs in his part of the world.
As the signora spoke the door opened, and the Signor
Alviano entered the chamber, holding a large packet of letters,
opened and unopened. The Signor Alviano was then in his
fifty-sixth year, and looked even younger. He was of middle
height, and somewhat robust; but his countenance was
attractive in the highest degree, impressing the beholder with
a full conviction of the merchant's benignant and truly
generous disposition.
 Well, here is news at last, exclaimed he, as he seated
himself by his daughter, after pressing a kiss, as he usually
did, on her fair and open brow.  But sorry am I to say, and
he spoke with much feeling,  we have dismal news enough in
all conscience.
 Nothing has happened 1 questioned Agnes, looking
anxiously at her father as he sorted his letters.
 Nothing, nothing, my dear girl, replied the merchant,
 to any of our kith and kin. There, there are three letters
for you, my love, from your cousins. There have been sad
doings in Venice ; and, strange to say, this Corsican knight,
the young Count Paoli'—'for Count he is, and his father before
him, and no nobler name in Corsica than Paoli—before the
first invasion of that island 
 But, dear father, interrupted Agnes,  you forget. And,
in truth, she added, smiling, and laying her taper fingers on
his,  whenever Corsica is mentioned, everything passes into
oblivion, except that little speck on the wide ocean.
 Ha ! ha ! ha!  laughed the Signor Alviano ;  little speck
do you call it ? As fine and high-spirited a race 
E
82
THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR,
 Yes, yes, father, granted. I have, you know, seen a speci-
men ; and, I confess, if they at all resemble him, they are not
amiss. But let us know about this dismal news, and the
Signor Paoli.
"Ha, there it is ! exclaimed the merchant, looking somewhat
archly in his daughter's face.  By St. Mark, this wandering
knight somehow occupies as much of your thoughts as his
country, I confess, does of mine. Some day or other I will
tell you why.
Had the Signora Tolmeo looked at the maiden as her father
uttered the last sentence, she would have greatly admired the
brilliant colour of her cheeks and temples.
 I have a considerable budget of news for you, resumed
the merchant,  some of which will astonish you not a little.
These letters came in a Venetian carrick, which left Venice
after the fleet of Pisani had sailed to meet the Genoese galleys
which were cruizing off the coast of Dalmatia. Her captain
saw the two fleets approach each other; but a tremendous
gale separated them. During the storm, he succeeded in
escaping the enemy. He has a valuable cargo, consigned to
me from the Marchese Tiepolo—the last which a Venetian
noble will ever embark. This I will explain another time—it
is a new law. The sad news I have to relate is the miserable
fate of the conqueror of Zara. The noble but ill-fated Marino
Faliero, being discovered as the originator of a fearful plot
to massacre the entire nobility of Venice, was beheaded by
order of the Council of Ten.
 Merciful Providence, how horrid !  exclaimed both ladies.
 A Doge of Venice—an old man of eighty—brought to the
block! 
 Neither a great name, mighty deeds, nor venerable age,
weigh as anything in the scales of Venetian justice, when
opposed to the slightest treason to the State, replied the
merchant.  Bat the most extraordinary part of the intelli-
gence I have received in my letters from the Marchese Tiepolo,
is, that the Signor Paoli was actually arrested and thrown into
a dungeon, by order of the Council, on a charge of being a
treasonable spy. He was examined, and, though finally
declared innocent, was sentenced to three years' banishment
from the Dogano—which means the city of Venice and its
three islands. The Marchese tells me that the story is too
long and too intricate to be now detailed in all its particulars.
Agnes looked at her father with a perplexed gaze. Her eyes
sparkled, and her colour heightened, as she said,—
 You deal in riddles, dear father. What on earth can
induce the Signor Paoli to wander into this part of the world?''
the battle on the bosphorus.
83
"The Marchese Tiepolo, returned the Signor Alviano,
 fitted out a magnificent galley for this war, and gave the
command of her to Paoli. Although banished from Venice, he
may reside in, or visit any, of the colonies ; and the State also
granted him the required document, permitting him to hold
any command under the banner of St. Mark. We may now
daily expect the Venetian fleet in our waters ; and, in truth j
it is time ; for so audacious have the Genoese colonists of
Pera become, and so miserably weak and pusillanimous is the
Greek Government, that there is no knowing how far their
insolence might extend if not kept in check by a stronger
force than the emperor can command. And now I must leave
you, my child, to peruse your own letters ; and I have little
doubt that you will find much more news and more minute
particulars of all that has taken place, than my worthy friend
the Marchese has given me.
So saying, the merchant Alviano retired to his counting-
house.
CHAPTER XIV.
the merchant.
Paulina Tiepolo did in truth write fully and clearly to a
cousin she loved as dearly as a cherished sister. Neither hesi-
tation nor mystery, envy nor jealousy, was in the noble heart of
the Venetian maiden. She gave Agnes a full account of the
(ate unhappy events in Venice ; spoke of Paoli with a warm
and delicate feeling ; confessed her heart had been in consi-
derable danger, and was only saved by a chance circumstance
which had revealed the Corsican's meeting 'with Agnes.
Paulina declared it was her firm belief that Giacinto's iron
heart was only to be won by her cousin, and ended a very long
letter (especially for that unletter-writing age) by solemnly
saying, that if she (Agnes) had a heart she could call her own,
to exchange it fearlessly with the one she felt convinced the
knight was most anxious to lay at her feet.
To say that Agnes neither blushed, nor that her heart did
not quicken its pulsation during the reading of Paulina's
letter, would, I fear, be false. We write of a most romantic
age ; nevertheless, we do not mean that Agnes had actually
fallen in love with the Corsican knight at the period of their
meeting in the Val d'Arno, but his gallantry and courage, his
youthful features and magnificent form, were often before her
mind's eye ; and as none of the young nobility of Venice who
frequented her father's mansion in any way equalled her
84
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OB,
deliverer in person, manner, or features, she continued mis-
tress of her own heart up to the arrival of her cousin Paulina's
letter. Besides, although nearly two years had elapsed since
her adventure with Ludovico Guarnieri, the remembrance of
that moment of peril was constantly kept alive in her mind
by her father, who was perpetually talking of the Paoli family,
of Corsica, and its struggles for freedom with the Genoese.
Though surprised at her father's sudden predilection—for so
she considered it—for everything Corsican, the maiden very
willingly listened, wondering how a Venetian had become
acquainted with the history of so remote an island, with which
the Venetians had no manner of commercial dealings.
The Signor Alviano often declared he would willingly give a
third of his wealth to be able to thank the preserver of his
beloved daughter in person.
From the period of the arrival of the letters from Venice
the worthy merchant was in a state of perpetual movement
and bustle. His anxiety for the arrival of the fleet, and his
ardent desire to behold the Signor Paoli, kept him in daily
journeys from the Faro to the arsenal to make inquiries.
From the former place a great extent of the Sea of Marmora
was visible, and the approach of Pisani's fleet, which wa3
anxiously looked for, would be descried from the lofty Faro
many hours before its arrival opposite Byzantium.
On the 25th of September, 1355, the Venetian fleet, under
Admiral Pisani, entered the Propontis. The galley of Paoli
hajl proved one of the fastest in the fleet, and during the five
months' cruising along the Dalmatian shores and in the eastern
seas, he had already highly distinguished himself, and pro-
cured the favour and protection of the admiral, fighting and
capturing two fine and richly laden galleys off the island of
Brioni, when separated from the fleet during the great storm
that prevented the meeting of the hostile fleets. In rejoining
the galleys of Pisani he had also rendered a signal service to
the admiral, and saved his galley and five others from being
wrecked upon an unsuspected reef during a heavy gale. The
pilot of the Corsiean's galley knew the reef and the only pas-
sage through it, and, boldly carrying a press of canvas, he
passed the admiral's galley, which, being too disabled by the
gale to avoid the danger, took the lead, at the same time
hoisting signals to follow his galley, as the passage was known
to his pilot. Paoli steered through the boiling surges with
skill and coolness ; the admiral and five of the largest war
galleys followed in safety. At Mitylene, where they after-
wards anchored, Paoli publicly received the thanks of the
admiral, and the pilot received a substantial reward.
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSFHORUS.
8
It was with feelings of excitement and pleasure that Paoli
entered the Sea of Marmora, and rapidly approached Byzan-
tium. With a favourable breeze, they soon brought in view
the heights of Scutari and the seven hills on which Byzantium
stood, with its four hundred and seventy-eight towers, which
then, in a circuit of nearly eighteen miles, studded the long
terrace of her walls. Soon the eye could trace the gentle
curve of the Chrysoceras, or Golden Horn, an arm of the Pro-
pontis which forms the port of the city, and bathes the north-
western side of the unequal triangle on which the city stands.
The Acropolis, as the apex of this triangle was called, is, at
the present day, covered with the glittering buildings and
gardens of the Seraglio. Opposite is Scutari, and there begins
the mouth of the Thracian Bosphorus. From the fortress of
Galata to the spot now known as the Seraglio point, at the
period of our tale a distance of more than five hundred yards,
a massive double chain stretched across and guarded the
entrance of the harbour.
Struck with the magnificence and imposing appearance of
all around him, Paoli followed the admiral, and, shortly after,
the galleys dropped anchor under the protecting ramparts of
Byzantium.
Scarcely had Paoli moored his galley, before he perceived a
very fine eight-oared barge with a crimson awning push from
the side of the admiral's galley and pull towards his vessel.
The curtains of the canopy were drawn up, and Paoli, as it
rapidly approached, beheld a signor seated beneath the awning.
He was alone. In a few moments the barge shot alongside,
and Paoli, seeing that it was the wish of the stranger to come
on board, ordered the side-ladders to be lowered. Another
moment and the Signor Alviano stood upon the deck of the
Lion, and, scarcely taking time to introduce himself, so eager
and excited was his manner, he seized the hand of the knight,
who no sooner heard his name than, almost equally excited,
he led the merchant, who all the time was heartily shaking
his hand and welcoming him to Byzantium, into the handsome
cabin of the galley.
 This is positively the happiest moment I have enjoyed
since my child returned to her father's arms, after many years'
absence, Signor Paoli, exclaimed the worthy merchant, looking
at the same time with visible admiration at the glowing
features and stalwart frame of the Corsican. "I little expected,
continued he,  a few weeks back, ever to have the pleasure
of embracing and thanking the deliverer of my only child.
 And verily, Signor Alviano, returned Paoli,  I little
thought, some months back, when a prisoner in the dungeons
86
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
of St. Mark, ever to see the glorious light of day, much less to
have the pleasure of pressing the hand of the father of the fair
maiden to -whom it was my good fortune to offer assistance.
At this moment, Paoli's squire entered the cabin to say that
the barge of the admiral's son, with the young Count Pisani
himself, was steering for the Lion. As Pulini spoke, the
merchant turned round, and the squire's gaze falling on his
features, he started back, with a look of extreme astonishment,
while the merchant himself changed colour slightly, but im-
mediately resumed his usual look. Paoli did not perceive the
strange manner or action of his squire ; for at the moment he
had turned to look through the stern-windows of the galley, to
ascertain if the Count Pisani was coming on board,
 Will you excuse me a moment, Signor Alviano 1 said
Paoli;  I see my friend Pisani is approaching.
 I know the young man well, replied the merchant.
''When he was but a boy, I have frequently admired his spirit
and courage. On his first visit here, long ago, he was a
favourite guest at my mansion. Agnes had not then returned
from Venice, and he used to flatter me by saying my little girl
would, in time, become the flower of Venetian maidens.
A thought crossed the mind of the Corsican at that moment,
but he chased it away, for it was not a pleasing one ; and,
followed by the Signor Alviano, he ascended to receive the
Count, who had already reached the deck. After pressing
Paoli's hand, the young Pisani took the offered palm of the
worthy merchant, saying, with a smile,—
 Ah ! Signor Alviano, you have found the elixir of life. By
St. Mark, time is as nought! You look younger than ever;
though now, let me see, by all that's lovely—and that's your
fair daughter Agnes—it's ten years since we met ! 
 As lively as ever, Count, said the merchant;  but the said
ten years have changed the slight stripling into a very proper
man.
 Santa Madonna ! I trust you do not flatter, exclaimed
Pisani, laughing. "And most devoutly do I hope the fair
maidens of this city may think the same. But tell me, Gia-
cinto, what think you of all you see ? Here we are at last, and
I trust we may enjoy ourselves a little, after five months' mo-
notonous cruising ; though, by-the-bye, you had the luck to
break its stupidity by some sharp blows with the enemy. I
bring you permission from the admiral to spend a few days
—only a few days, I am sorry to say—ashore.
 And during those few days, interposed the merchant,  I
insist upon both of you becoming my guests.
 With all my heart, with all my heart, Signor Alviano !  ex-
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
87
claimed Pisani. "I long to see your fair daughter, and to
have a little chat over the past. Perhaps she has totally sunk
all remembrance of poor Venice, by contrasting its sombre
canals and calm lagune with the gorgeous scenery of this
fairy land.
Three months passed over on the rapid wings of time. Let
us see what effect that short space of life had upon the fortunes
of our hero. It is, in truth, a very brief space ; and yet a
kingdom and a monarchy have fallen in that short interval,
after a dynasty of five hundred years. To Paoli that period
altered the destiny of his life. He had vowed to devote to the
fair Agnes his future existence ; and, it must be confessed, she
most willingly accepted the vow. The merchant Alviano felt
infinitely greater delight in hearing his blushing daughter
confess that she had bestowed her heart upon a fortuneless
exile, than if she had pledged it to the noblest in Venice.
There was one, however, who beheld the fast-growing love
of the fair Agnes with a disturbed eye, and that was Giovanni
Pisani, the nephew of the admiral. Noble, generous, and chi-
valric, of a fine person, handsome features, and highly de-
scended, he had even, when a mere youth—and he visited at
the Palace Tiepolo—beheld the growing beauty of Agnes with
admiration and youthful love. But now, when he saw her in
all the pride and grace of full-grown womanhood—every charm
increased and perfected—Pisani, without a thought but that
he should succeed, allowed his heart to feast upon the loveliness
that was never destined to be his.
Before the three months had expired, though he knew not
that the tale of love was told and heard, and listened to with
heaving bosom and beating heart, yet he had seen enough tp
satisfy him that, in the Corsican exile—the soldier, with his
sword for his sole inheritance—he had a most dangerous
rival.
To a noble and generous spirit like that of Pisani, perhaps
our readers may think, however painful the trial might be,
the prize he so thirsted for would be abandoned to his more
fortunate rival. Alas ! young love is a sad tyrant, and sorely
tries even the noblest heart. Pisani's manner insensibly
changed towards Paoli, who, too absorbed in the charm that
bound him, when in the presence of Agnes, perceived it not.
During the three months much had taken place besides
the exchange of two young hearts. Admiral Pisani had sue
ceeded in persuading the Greek emperor to espouse the cause
of the Venetians against their mutual foe, the Genoese. But
such was the miserable and fallen state of the once mighty
empire, that the utmost the emperor could do was to promise
88
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; Oil,
to equip and fully furnish eight galleys to join the fleet of
Pisani. Being now satisfied at having gained the object of his
visit to Byzantium, the admiral sailed for the winter quarters
of his fleet, leaving the younger Pisani, and Paoli, and the
crews of two Venetian galleys, to assist in the equipment and
fitting-out of the emperor's galleys; as also to keep the
Genoese colony of Pera in check, and to give notice of the
movements of the enemy in that quarter. Thus Paoli, in a
certain measure, remained under the command of the younger
Pisani.
Paoli now found but little time to spend in the society of
his betrothed, for such she was ; though, for several reasons,
their mutual engagement was not openly declared. Pisani
required the presence of Giacinto every hour of the day in the
arsenal ; for the Greeks are proverbially slow and indolent,
and need constant watching. In fact, everything was yet_to
be done to the unfinished galleys of the emperor.
Still, an hour or so of the evenings was always spent in the
company of the merchant's family. The Signor Alviano was
very busily engaged in winding up his mercantile affairs—as
he resolved to quit Byzantium, at all events, the following
spring. Paoli, until the termination of the war, could not
think for a moment of giving up the command of his galley,
and the Signor Alviano would find it absolutely necessary to
return to Venice, to settle his commercial transactions with
the Marchese Tiepolo. Now, as the Corsican was banished
that city for three years, the merchant purposed, as soon as
possible, to leave Venice, and return for a time to Florence.
Such were the intentions of the merchant, in hastily think-
ing over the subject; but no definite plan could be adopted in
the present posture of public affairs at Venice, which appeared
to be on the eve of a long war.
One evening, when our hero sat listening to the fine voice
of Agnes, who accompanied herself on the harp,—the Signora
Tolmeo being, as usual .busy with her embroidery,—Giovanni
Pisani entered the room. Had any of the parties present paid
attention to the Venetian's countenance, they would have
perceived a sad change pass over his truly handsome features;
his brows were knit, and his eyes flashed as he beheld the position
of the lovers ; and, scarcely returning the kind salutation of the
party, he threw himself upon an ottoman, without a word, and
his strange silence and manner attracted the observation of all.
To one of Paoli's kind inquiries, the young Count said he was
heated, having dined that day with some of the chief officers
of the emperor's body guard. After a pause, during which
Agnes laid aside her harp, looking at Pisani with rather a dis-
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
89
turbed and anxious look, the latter said, with an effort to
recover his usual manner and tone,—
 I am sorry, Paoli, to interrupt the delightful mode in which
I see you pass your evenings ; but we must not neglect our
duty to the Republic, nevertheless.'
 I trust, Pisani, returned the Corsican, "that, although
only a volunteer in the service of the State, my duty has never
been neglected.
Agnes turned slightly pale, for the tone of Paoli was cold
and haughty.
 I say nothing about neglect on your part, Paoli, rejoined
Pisani, with a look at Agnes ;  but the fact is, I received,
yesterday, important despatches from the emperor for the
Venetian admiral, which must reach him as soon as possible.
You are aware that this morning the Genoese garrison of Pera
have again insulted the emperor.
"Yes, replied Paoli, quietly, "I heard that a large piece
of rock was discharged from one of their balistic engines into
one of the Greek carricks, and that the pusillanimous Greeks
were in great consternation.
 Ah ! said Pisani,  you heard this much ; but perhaps you
did not hear that on the emperor demanding the reason of such
an outrage, during the short cessation of hostilities—which,
by-the-bye, expires after to-morrow—the Genoese commander
very coolly replied they were rejoiced to find the city was
within range of their machines.
"A pretty pass, returned Paoli, "the Roman empire is
coming to, to be thus insulted by the insignificant colony of a
far-distant Republic ! 
 Ah ! well, we have only to look to the consequence as it
regards the interest of Venice, pursued Pisani.  For my own
part, I am sorry, and he looked very markedly at Agnes,—"I am
sorry to be obliged to deprive the ladies of your very agreeable
society ; for I fear you must sail after to-morrow for Negropont,
where the admiral is ; for it is very certain his fleet will have
to leave their snug quarters before the spring commences. It
is also reported by a barque from Mitylene that numerous
cruisers from the Genoese fleet have been seen off the entrance
of the Sea of Marmora. But your galley is a very fast one ;
and, in truth, somehow, better officered and manned than any
in the fleet.
 Will there not be considerable risk, asked the merchant's
daughter, with a slight tremor of voice, "in a single galley, at
this time of the year, running through the Straits while the
mouth is blockaded by Genoese cruisers 1
"Well, I confess, replied Pisani, in rather a sneering tone,
90
the sunny south ; or,
 to the Signor Paoli there will be somewhat more danger than
to another, as I believe the Genoese have placed a very high
value on his head should he be recognized, if captured 
 No fear of that, fair Agnes, interrupted Paoli, rising and
speaking cheerfully and calmly. Then, taking the maiden's
hand, he added,  the more danger, the more glory ; and. I fully
expect to return to thank the lovely owner of this fair hand
for her interest in the poor exile's fate.
Respectfully kissing the hand he held, he quitted the
chamber without taking the slightest notice of Pisani.
The Count looked after the majestic figure of the Corsican,
biting his lip, as if in bitterness of thought. When he turned
round, he perceived that the merchant's daughter had with-
drawn by another door.
With a slight frown on his brow, he bowed to the Signora
Tolmeo, and followed the knight to the arsenal.
CHAPTER XV.
t._
With the first glimmering of dawn Paoli left the port of
Byzantium, and, with a favourable breeze, stood out into the
Sea of Marmora.
In his own mind, he felt satisfied that his then voyage might
have been dispensed with, and that it was merely a ruse of
the younger Pisani to get him out of the way in order to urge
his own suit with the gentle Agnes. The knight, feeling
neither annoyed nor uneasy, and having perfect confidence in
the truth of his fair betrothed, and in her father's unflinching
honour, sailed for Negropont, with the determination, if fortune
should favour him, of achieving some exploit worthy of the
fine craft he commanded, and the gallant crew with which she
was manned. With a fair breeze, he ran along the Asiatic
coast, knowing that the Genoese barques—bound for the Black
Sea—steered along that shore. But as he approached the
Straits, the wind suddenly veered several points, and, before
many hours, blew a heavy gale in from the Archipelago. In
the end, he was forced to take shelter under the lee of a low
point jutting out from the eastern shore. Several boats passed
through the Straits, scudding before the gale, which caused
Paoli to keep strict watch for a vessel of sufficient importance,
and carrying the Genoese flag, to induce him to give chase.
The fourth day—the gale rather increasing than otherwise
■—the man on the look-out gave notice of three large vessels
making through the Straits; the largest, a double-hanked
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
91
galley, chasing the others, which were shortly perceived—one
to be a carrick of the largest class, showing Venetian colours
the other a fine Greek caravel.
Being prepared, and his crew eager for action, the pilot, by
the orders of Paoli, slipped his cables, and, standing across the
course of the advancing vessels, hoisted the broad banner of
St. Mark. The Genoese galley no sooner became aware of the
vicinity of her enemy, than she abandoned the chase, shortened
canvas, and prepared for action. She was a larger-class galley
than our hero's, though, as it proved afterwards, but badly
manned, and with a disaffected crew.
In something less than half an hour the Genoese struck to
the Corsican, who had run her aboard at once ; and tbe prize
—one of Admiral Doria's finest galleys—turned out a rich one.
Having been sent on a month's cruise, she had taken several
valuable prizes, which, Paoli learned from some released cap-
tives, were all safely anchored in the port of Salonica, awaiting
the return of the Genoese galley, who intended, after captur-
ing the Venetian carrick, to return to that port, and then sail
with her prizes, and rejoin the Genoese fleet. Not expecting
to meet any Venetian galley of war in the Sea of Marmora at
that time, she had left a third of her crew with the prizes.
The Genoese galley was still superior in force to Paoli's ; but
his usual good-fortune and gallantry carried the prize at a
very trifling loss. She was commanded by the young Count
Durazzo, and many of the volunteers were of the young
nobility of Genoa, who offered considerable ransoms for their
freedom, which Paoli most willingly agreed to on reaching
Negropont.
But first he was resolved to cut out from the harbour of
Salonica the prizes left there by the Count Durazzo. In order
to carry his project into execution, he had recourse to a ruse.
Having received the pledged word of each of the captains,
according to the customs of the times, he sent them and their
crew aboard his own galley, with a strong body of his men and
two able officers to take charge ; and, leaving them to shape
their course for Negropont, he sailed with the Genoese galley
for Salonica.
As soon as the gale subsided, and having arrived off the port,
he signalled the four prizes—which he distinctly beheld riding
within the pier—to weigh and join him. As he used the signals
from the Genoese book of direction, not the slightest suspicion
was excited. Salonica was a very strongly defended port; and,
without a ruse, it would have been impossible to' obtain pos-
session of the prizes. But no sooner had the officers left in
charge beheld the galley of the Count Durazzo, with its banner
92
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
waving over the poop, and read the signals, than they weighed
and followed their consort, who, shaping his course for Lepanto,
where the Genoese fleet were in winter quarters, led the unsus-
picious officers of the Durazzo out of sight of Salonica, and then,
to their great astonishment and consternation, they fell, one
by one, into the snare laid for them. With his very valuable
prizes, Paoli made his way to Negropont, where he found his
own galley safely moored.
The Corsican, however, learned that Admiral Pisani was at
Castello Tornese, one of the most magnificent and gigantic
erections raised by the Venetians in their eastern settlements.
The Marchese Di Loridano, who commanded in the absence of
Pisani, received our hero with distinguished attention, and
spoke in high terms of his gallantry and extreme good fortune;
for one of the prizes contained treasure to a large amount.
The Marchese was of opinion that Paoli should proceed at once
to Tornese, as the despatches were marked  Important, and
for the admiral himself. Paoli was informed by the Marchese
that the fleet would be ready before the winter expired, and
that he had received information that Admiral Doria had
already left his winter quarters, therefore it behoved him to
keep a careful look-out in steering for Tornese.
The young Genoese nobility, taken in the galley of the Mar-
chese Durazzo, were permitted to charter a neutral barque,
having pledged their word not to engage in the then existing war
between Genoa and Venice. The ransoms were settled to their
mutual satisfaction ; for, notwithstanding the deep hatred Paoli
so justly bore to Genoa, his natural generosity of disposition
was not to be changed even by his bitter feeling against the
destroyers of his native land.
Paoli then sailed for Tornese, but variable winds and calms,
unusual for the time of year, retarded his progress, and several
days were spent in reaching the island of Cerego. It was near
sunset as the wind fell, leaving them about a league from Cape
St. Angelo. The sun went down, giving to the sky a crimson
hue, almost startling from its vividness, while dark masses
of clouds rapidly showed their heads in the western horizon.
Paoli felt satisfied they would have to contend with a gale
before morning ; and his pilot, an old and experienced navi-
gator of those seas, was of the same opinion, and strongly
advised their manning their long and ponderous sweeps, so as
to gain a sufficient offing to clear the Cape before them, as the
tempest—for tempest he knew it would be—would come from
the south.
Paoli himself was inclined (hemmed in as they were by
islands and shoals) to seek anchorage behind the island of
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
93
Cerego. Under her sweeps, double manned, the galley gathered
way with her head for the island.
In the meantime our hero paced the deck, while his thoughts
were far indeed from the scene around him, which soon became
wrapped in impenetrable darkness.
Pulini, who followed the fortunes of Paoli with steady deyo-
tion, stood upon the deck, leaning against the mainmast of the
galley, and gazing at the powerful form of his lord, seen in the
faint light of the two lanterns hoisted over the poop. Pulini
loved the island which had given him birth; and would rather
have stretched himself on the hard rock of his native moun-
tain by the side of his young lord, and struggled for Corsican
liberty, even though he should perish in doing so, than follow
him through the brilliant exploits he achieved under the ban-
ner of St. Mark. The faithful squire longed for some intelli-
gence from Corsica. He was well aware that a thousand men
were ready to start up and struggle again against their oppres-
sors if the slightest change took place in the Genoese Govern-
ment. Pulini also looked anxiously to the result of the
contest between Genoa and Venice ; for, should Venice succeed
in annihilating the Genoese fleet, the resources of that Republic
would receive a great shock.
A profound stillness reigned around, broken only by the fall
of the ponderous sweeps ; a long, low swell began to be felt;
and the air, before cool, became sultry and oppressive. In the
silence of the night, the fall of the swell against the iron-bound
coast of Cerego fell distinctly upon the ear. Just then the
pilot pointed out to his commander a small unsteady light
resembling a star.
 That, said he  is the Faro of Cerego—a very lofty tower,
built upon a sharp disjointed rock. We must not attempt that
harbour, signor, if the gale burst upon us, as I fear it will. You
see how quick the swell comes ; the tempest is on the waters,
though as yet we do not feel it. Hark !  continued he after a
pause. He then shouted,  In oars—in oars—be quick !
As he spoke there was a roar aloft unlike any other sound,
and then the galley was struck by the furious blast, bending
her beneath the instantaneously foaming sea, while a drift of
ocean spray rushed over her deck like a cataract. The galley
shook and quivered beneath the shock ; and, before she could
recover herself, or her crew could regain their control over
her a flash of blue quivering flame ran along her deck, and
then burst at the foot of the foremast, bringing it, and its
ponderous yard, a wreck over the side. The crash of thunder
that followed this vivid and fatal flash or meteor—for four
seamen were killed—astonished and bewildered the galley's
94
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
crew ; but Paoli, with his energetic officers and pilot, roused
them into action, and, in a few seconds, they got the galley
to scud before the blast.
Another peal of thunder, more appalling than the last,
changed the direction of the tempest like magic. A kind of
whirlwind fell upon the waters, driving them in all directions
like snow-drift into the air. The heavens, at the same time,
were one vast sheet of flame, disclosing to iview the before
calm sea—tossed and agitated by the war of the elements. In
vain the labouring ship recovered from one shock—to be met
by the capricious hurricane in an opposite direction.
At length, when fearfully near the western point of Cerego,
the tempest seemed to settle into the south-west, and the
thunder to roll away in the distance—away went the galley,
like a seared sea-bird, her startled crew relieved by the change
in the wind, which enabled them to avoid the rock-bound coast
of Cerego ; when, in a vivid flash of lightning, the man on
the look-out shouted,—
 A craft under our starboard bow !
The next moment the galley struck some object with tre-
mendous force, reeling and staggering with the shock. Giacinto
Paoli was standing at the moment near the pilot, who, with
another man, held the helm. The crash threw him against
the bulwarks. The galley broaching to, a breaking sea filled
her decks with a flood of water.
For a moment our hero believed the galley to be sinking ;
but, regaining his feet, he called his bewildered officers and
crew to their senses, and, after considerable exertion, the
vessel was again got before the wind. Such was the fury of
the storm, that not a sail could be set which was not torn into
ribbons. Flash after flash lighted the ocean round ; but nought
was to be seen except the crested tops of the breakers—nothing
to be heard but the howling of the pitiless gale, as it raged
through the rigging, and bent the vessel beneath the surge.
"I greatly fear, said Paoli to a Venetian who acted in the
capacity of what we should call a supercargo, but who, in
reality, was a paid spy,  I fear we have run down some un-
fortunate barque.
"If so, signor, returned the man, "the people on board
her have perished, as not a vestige of her can be seen.
 There is no doubt, observed the pilot, coming from an
examination of the galley's beak,  that we have run down
some craft. Our bow is damaged a little, and some of the
frame-work carried away. We had better, signor, run into
the anchorage between Sapienza and Sphacteria.
This advice our young commander followed, and just sa
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORU3.
95
morning dawned they came to- an anchor under Sapienza, in
the port of Modon, a safe and commodious harbour, where, in
a couple of days, he repaired his damages. But, when pre-
pared to sail, a small fleet, consisting of four galleys, two or
three brigantines, and a very large zebec, appeared off the
islands ; and as the breeze still blew strongly from the south
and west, the fleet came to an anchor under the island of
Sphacteria. The zebec, however, kept under sail, lying-to off
the entrance of the sound.
Giacinto easily made out that this fleet was a Genoese rein-
forcement for the fleet of Admiral Doria. Finding that they
remained at anchor, he determined to attempt the passage
through the sound during the night, resolving to give battle
to the zebec if pursued. Accordingly, with a strong breeze in
his favour, and a very dark night, he weighed anchor, and
sailed from the port of Modon, without, as he thought, being
perceived by the galleys, as they were invisible to him, and
steered for the sound. But it seems the Genoese sailors had
discovered that a large Venetian vessel lay in the port of
Modon, which at the period of our story was strongly fortified,
and in the hands of the Greeks ; for scarcely had the Lion
attempted to pass between the flat rock and the island of
Sapienza, than a stout cable, stretched by buoys across the
gut, caught their bows ; and which, though it at once parted,
was evidently fastened to one of the brigantines lying at
anchor in the sound; for instantaneously a bright crimson
flame shot up into the air, and the moment after a clear blue
flame was shown from the poops of all the four vessels, re-
vealing every object around with a startling distinctness.
Paoli cast a rapid and comprehensive glance around him : he
perceived that the zebec was within bow-shot to leeward, and
that two of the galleys—very large ones—were both to wind-
ward, and that they had at once slipped their cables, and
were running down upon him. In this critical situation our
hero was still undismayed: he could not return, if inclined,
and beat back through the narrow passage ; but, knowing the
swiftness of his own craft, and the spirit and energy of his
crew, he did not at all despair of extricating himself from his
critical position.
As the fires were continually kept up on board the enemy's
vessels he was able to judge pretty exactly their situation ;
but the zebec, which seemed to sail remarkably fast, by catch-
ing the wind in a slant from the land, came right across his
course. She appeared to be full of men, for when within half
bow-shot a shower of shafts and bolts from cross-bows and
arbalets fell upon the Lion's deck ; but the men received no
96
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
injury, because of the obscurity and uncertainty of the aim.
The zebec then thought to run the Lion aboard ; but just as
the collision between the vessels appeared inevitable, and
would have given time to the foremost galley to close with
them, the Lion went rapidly about, and, having cleared the
sound, bore away. But not in time to avoid the galley to
windward. Grapnels, and all the instruments then used in
ancient warfare, were cast aboard the Lion by the galley as
she ran alongside, but were as instantly cast back ; and the
breeze blowing very fresh, and the point of the island being
cleared, the Lion stood away from her baffled enemies, though
hotly pursued by the three galleys and the zebec.
Unfortunately, the mast shipped at Modon was much too
slight for the ponderous latine yard carried by the Lion, but
none stouter was to be had ; and the new rigging being slack,
a heavy squall and the great sea outside the islands, where
the gale still raged, carried away the Lion's foremast, yard
and all, over the side.
This was a sad and not to be remedied disaster. The wreck
was, however, cleared away, and the vessel, under her im-
mense mainsail, sailed fast through the heavy and breaking
seas. Towards morning the wind increased, but so well did
the Lion sail, that she still kept ahead of her pursuers. As
the day rose the islands of Sapienza were scarcely visible,
while Zante and Cephalonia began to appear like little dark
specks in the eastern horizon.
The largest of the Genoese vessels was, however, gaining on
our hero, and to his surprise the zebec kept up with her. They
were nearly within bow-shot, and he could see that the deck
of the latter was crowded with soldiers destined for some of
the colonies in the East.
Still it was not till within a few leagues of Zante that the
galley and the zebec came up with their chase. The former
was, however, at this period, considerably ahead of her comrade,
and commenced the fight, as usual, with arrows, bolts, and
stones thrown from engines. But Paoli (determined to make
a desperate fight) suddenly ordered the helm to be put down ;
and, carrying an immense press of after-sail, bore up in the
wind. Striking the Genoese galley amid-ships with tremen-
dous force, and taken immediately aback with an immense
press of canvas, both her masts went over the sides ; by
using his immense sweeps, and great exertion, our hero got
the Lion again before the wind before the zehec could close.
Thus he was able to prepare for his other enemy, crippled
as he was, and not having his full complement of men aboard.
Just as the zebec appeared ready to run alongside the Lion,
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
97
a scene of great confusion seemed to prevail on board, in the
midst of which Paoli luffed up, and with a chosen part of
his crew, as the vessels closed, leaped aboard, battle-axe in
hand. He was encountered by an officer in handsome
armour, whom he felled to the deck ; and, gallantly assisted
by his lieutenant, drove the astounded Genoese before him.
With loud cries, the soldiers threw down their arms and
demanded quarter, some of them, at the same time, pulling
down the Genoese flag.
Their officers were furious ; but the men, who had mutinied
twice before, as they were destined to garrison one of the most
unhealthy settlements in the east, refused to strike another
blow.
Having secured his prize, and received the arms of the offi-
cers in command, he bore down on the disabled galley, which,
after a sharp, but short, hand-to-hand conflict, surrendered.
Taking her in tow, the Lion crowded all sail for Zante, the
two other vessels being severhl miles to leward. These were
evidently very dull sailers ; for he was able to run into Zante,
with his prize in tow, just as the leading galley came within
bow-shot.
After arranging everything with respect to his prizes, which
were extremely valuable, he at once set out for the then
considered impregnable fortress of Castello Tornese, where
Admiral Pisani then was.
The remains of this stupendous fortress still exist. It is
built upon an eminence overlooking the vast plains of
Gastorini. From the ramparts of this magnificent edifice the
eye ranges over a vast expanse of sea, studded with those
islands now known as the Ionian—Zante lying, as it were, be-
neath the walls; while to the eastward the delighted gaze
roams over a fairy scene as far as the beautiful gulf of Lepanto,
while the mountains of Arcadia and Epirus bound a vast
portion of this unrivalled amphitheatre.
Admiral Pisani received Paoli most courteously; cpm-
plimented him on his gallantry and great success ; made many
inquiries concerning the state of the Greek vessels in Byzan-
tium, and other matters.
At the expiration of three days, Paoli shipped a number of
artizans and sailors, and to his great joy received orders to
sail for Byzantium, with directions to the younger Pisani to
expedite, as much as possible, the equipment of the emperor's
contingent, as the admiral fully expected, before the winter
expired, to meet the hostile fleet under Admiral Doria.
In parting, Admiral Pisani said,  Signor Paoli, it has turned
out fortunate, both for your renown and emolument, that p,iy
98
the sunny south ; ob,
nephew forwarded his despatches by you. But, in point of
fact, they were not of sufficient importance to risk the capture
of your noble galley, by running the gauntlet through the
numerous cruisers the Genoese have in those seas at present.
In the month of January I fully expect to be at anchor off the
port of Byzantium.
Our hero again set sail, leaving his prizes under an officer of
inspection appointed by the admiral ; and after several very
narrow escapes from the cruizers of Genoa, who kept the seas
the whole winter, and sinking a large Genoese caravel full of
warlike stones proceeding to Caffa, he arrived safely in the
port of Byzantium.
CHAPTER XYI.
the rival lovers.
There was no mistaking the bright smile or the sparkling eyes
of the fair Agnes as she met her lover after his return from hi3
expedition. She had much to relate to her betrothed ; for,
during his absence, events had taken place which disturbed
her mind. Knowing, with all a woman's acuteness, the fiery
and nasty temper of the Corsican, she somewhat hesitated ; till,
strengthened in her resolution by the advice of her kind friend
the Signora Tolmeo, she resolved to speak fully to her lover
upon the subject that disturbed her ; first anxiously entreating
Paoli to give her his promise that he would not resent the in-
considerate conduct of Giovanni Pisani, who, to do him justice,
was not aware of the betrothment of Paoli and Agnes. Pas-
sionately attached to the maiden while a mere boy, he had
sailed from Venice with the resolution of offering himself to
the merchant's daughter. Her reception of the Corsican, which
he had himself witnessed, rather startled him from his self-
confidence ; for Pisani's chief failing was pride. Still, imagin-
ing that if Paoli was removed from the presence of Agnes he
(Pisani) should have a chance of winning her love, he craftily
sent his rival on an expedition, in which he felt almost certain
the young commander would be captured by the numerous
cruisers of Doria- in the Archipelago.
After the departure of the Corsican, Pisani became more
earnest in his manner ; and as his motive was soon evident to
Agnes—for women are quick to perceive when the heart is
concerned—she became more distant and reserved. Still the
young Count was not to be repulsed : his pride would not allow
him to think that a Corsican exile, with no other fortune than
his sword, could be preferred to him, a Venetian, with a name
g 2
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORTJS.
99
ennobled through centuries, possessing immense wealth, and
having already distinguished himself in several brilliant actions.
But Agnes was not to be won by a handsome person, a noble
name, or wealth. Her first romantic meeting with Paoli had
certainly kindled the first spark of love in her breast. No
doubt it would in time have been extinguished, had not the
letters of her cousin Paulina fanned the spark. At length the
arrival of the knight himself blew the weak light into a flame ;
and a more intimate knowledge of his mind and disposition,
added to an unrivalled figure and handsome features, increased
the feeling that had so long fluttered in her gentle bosom.
Pisani offered himself and fortune to the merchant's
daughter. ' Agnes kindly but firmly rejected his proposals ;
but, with obstinate infatuation, the Yenetian persisted, and
then the maiden candidly declared her affection for, and en-
gagement with, Paoli.
In the moment of disappointed passion, and giving way to
a temper that too often overpowered a naturally generous dis-
position, Pisani upbraided Agnes with bestowing her love upon
a Corsican adventurer, who was not only stigmatized as a
rebel, but suffering under a State sentence of banishment.
"You have risked your happiness, lady, he added, in a
bitter, exasperated tone,  upon a quicksand. The galleys of
Genoa now sweep the eastern seas; and this wandering
knight may pass the remainder of his days in hopeless cap-
tivity.
Gentle and mild in disposition and temper, Agnes was still
not without pride and spirit, both of which were roused by the
unfeeling speech of the Yenetian, who bitterly repented the
utterance the moment after. She rose haughtily from her
seat, casting a look of scorn upon the agitated and unhappy
Pisani, saying, as her hand rested upon the door,—
 I am not surprised, signor and the tone of her voice,
cold and cutting, went to the heart of the Yenetian.  To
you, then, as I surmised, does the noble Paoli owe this danger-
ous voyage. Be satisfied ; his gratitude will equal the benefit
conferred. We meet, Signor Pisani, for the last time beneath
my father's roof. You have raised no fear within my breast
for him whom my own heart and my father's wishes have
chosen for my husband. Providence will _ protect him whom
your false friendship has sought to betray.
Before the repentant Pisani could reply, the maiden was
gone.
 She is gone !  muttered Pisani;  and she thinks me a
villain. Yes!"—and he bit his lip in passion—"Giovanni
Pisani has earned the title. Curses on my weak brain and
100
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; 011,
false pride, which have brought this stain upon my hitherto
fair name ! But I will see Agnes—I will implore her forgive-
ness ; and if the friend I have betrayed falls by the snare I,
like a coward, laid for him, adieu to the world, for Giovanni
Pisani scorns life coupled with dishonour ! 
And, with a hurried step, he left the mansion of the Signor
Alviano.
But in vain the Venetian sought permission to see the
indignant maiden. Though her pride and spirit scorned to
let Pisani see she trembled at the danger her lover ran in pro-
secuting his voyage, yet in secret she grieved, and thought over
the probable disasters he might incur.
Such, excepting Pisani's soliloquy, which she could not
know, though we have communicated it to the reader, was the
substance of what the merchant's daughter communicated to
Paoli on his return ; but the expressions and terms applied to
him by Pisani she kept to herself.
As Agnes concluded and looked anxiously in her lover's
face, in which she saw no trace whatever of anger, a kiss was
pressed upon her blooming cheek, which made the colour richer
still.
 Be assured, beloved Agnes, said Paoli,  I feel no resent-
ment against my friend Pisani. Bo you think, dearest, to lose
such a treasure as this"— and his arm gently encircled the
waist of the maiden— would not try even so noble a heart as
Pisani's 1 It was but a ruse d? amour ; and it has, in the end,
not only enriched me, but, he added, gaily,  crowned me
with laurels. Not one word of reproach shall Pisani receive
from me. Is it not triumph enough that the exile of Corsica
—the banished of Venice—obtains what the noble and wealthy
Pisani sued for in vain ? 
That same evening Giacinto was seated in his cabin, ar-
ranging some papers and charts, and pointing out peaces to his
lieutenant—an officer of the name of Loredani—to whom, for
his gallantry and steadiness, he was getting much attached,
when the Count Pisani entered the cabin—for the galley lay
alongside the quay of the arsenal. Paoli rose to meet him.
He had not seen him since his arrival, as PiSani was absent.
The Signor Loredani left the cabin as the Count entered.
Paoli, with a kindly greeting, held out his hand. The Vene-
tian shook his head, saying,—
 Mine is not worthy, Signor Paoli, to meet the palm of an
honourable man. I have wronged you, Paoli,'' he added, with
bitterness ;  and I come to offer the only reparation one man
can give another—satisfaction at the sword's point.
"Nay, Pisani, replied the Corsican, with a smile, "let us
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSJPHORUS.
101
keep our swords' points for the bodies of our enemies. Believe
me, we should feel no pleasure in the encounter. We are all,
in moments of passion, liable to err. You have done everything
that is required of an honourable man. Give me your hand,
Pisani. It's a noble hand—belongs to a noble heart. Let our
friendship, from this time, be too firmly established to be again
disturbed! 
 You are generous, Paoli, as well as noble, replied Pisani,
as he pressed the hand so freely offered.  The day may come
when Giovanni Pisani may wash out this blot upon his
escutcheon.
In a short time the gay and high-spirited Corsican drove
the gloom from the brow of the sensitive Venetian. He also
promised to make his peace with Agnes. The rest of the even-
ing was spent pleasantly enough by the reconciled friends.
On the following day, the Sign or Alviano returned from
Scutari, where he had spent the last week, closing accounts
with some merchants resident there. He was rejoiced on see-
ing Paoli ; for, though the merchant, to quell the anxiety of
his daughter, had said there was li.tie risk in Paoli's voyage,
yet he felt, in private, considerable doubt with respect to its
fortunate termination. He therefore received the Corsican
with all the affection of a parent, and listened to his account
of his adventures with interest and surprise.
"thave nearly closed all my mercantile transactions here,
continued Alviano;  and with much satisfaction, after so
many years' residence. If this plaguy war was terminated, I
should be ready in less than two months to sail for Venice.
This new law of the Venetian rulers will als<5 put an end to
the Marchese Tiepolo's mercantile transactions.
 How so, signor ?  demanded Paoli.
 Why, replied Alviano,  it is now ordained, by a decree of
the senate, that no Venetian nobleman shall embark in com-
mercial pursuits.
 What a singular act of tyranny, father !  exclaimed Agnes.
"What on earth could be the cause of such an arbitrary
decree ?
 Ha ! ha !  laughed the merchant, patting his daughter's
cheek ;  we must put a bridle upon your little tongue when
we get to Venice. No one dares in Venice to couple the word
tyranny with the rulers of the people.
 But what can be the meaning of this new decree 1 ques-
tioned the Corsican.
"Its direct tendency, replied Alviano, "is, I suppose, to
prevent the accumulation of wealth in new hands, and thus
preserve the ascendancy of those families by whom power is
102
THE SUNN? SOUTH ; OB,
already obtained. The new laws regulating dress will, I feel
certain, be very unpopular. Even the table and personal
expenses of each rank of citizens is'now to be under the in-
spection of three especial magistrates. • The cloak of the
richest noble, as well as of the meanest citizen, is henceforth to
be made of Paduan cloth ; and a heavy penalty is imposed
upon the use of English, Spanish, or Dutch manufactures.
Another piece of news I have also heard, continued the mer-
chant. "War is declared with Louis of Hungary; and Zara
has again revolted. So, you see, altogether, the rulers of
Venice will have no easy task to guide the helm of state.
 Giovanni Gradinegro, the Doge who succeeded to the blood-
stained throne of the ill-starred Faliero, said Paoli, "will not
sit upon a bed of roses, with all these misfortunes crowding
upon him. At all events, I heartily wish the coming winter
over. The inactivity and delay in the contest that must take
place between the rival fleets is wearisome.
 Per Bacco ! my son, remarked the merchant, with a smile,
 you cannot complain of being inactive. By Jove! during
this last voyage, your prizes have more than cleared all the
expenses of the outfit and building of the Lion. What
amount did you fix for the ransom of the Count Durazzo, and
the five other nobles 1 
 I left the amount to the Count himself, replied Paoli;
 and I consider the sum offered—two hundred thousand livres
of Genoa—a very liberal amount for the Count and his fellow-
captives.
 You would make but a poor merchant in the way of barter,
my son, observed the merchant, smiling.  What sum, do
you think, did Doria demand—ay, and obtain—for the Mar-
chese de Contarini and the Count Delfino, taken with three
hundred prisoners of no note, to judge by the amount de-
manded 1 One hundred thousand scudi of Genoa for each of
the nobles, and five thousand livres of Genoa for the three
hundred commoners. The Count Durazzo, your prisoner, is the
only son of the great Marchese Durazzo, the wealthiest noble
in the state of Genoa. Why, my dear boy, you ought to have
demanded the price of the fifty Corsican towns and villages
sacked, burned, and destroyed, when his father commanded
the forces of Genoa, in their descent upon Corsica, about the
period of your birth. He was finally, however, driven from
the island by the gallantry and heroic exertions of your
lamented father.
Paoli looked at the kindling eye of the worthy merchant,
who spoke in a tone of energy unusual to him.
 You surprise me, my dear sir, said Paoli.  Your in-
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHOKUS.
103
terest in, and knowledge of, the events that have taken place in
my beloved hut unfortunate country, has struck me forcibly
before now 
"Nothing surprising, returned the merchant, smiling, "in
my being interested in the country of my beloved child's
future husband. And as to my knowledge of events, your
squire Pulini would chatter for hours over the wrongs of Cor-
sica. But come with me : if I leave you so much with my
little girl, she will make you work, as Hercules did of old, at
a distaff.
 No fear of that, father, replied Agnes, laughing.  I
assure you, even now, he is longing to try his favourite Lion
against the wooden bulwarks of Genoa. Is it not so, Gia-
cinto 1
 Even so, sweet Agnes. But why 1 This contest ended,
this little hand, you know, becomes mine.
 Ah !  ejaculated the maiden, and somehow she lost her
playful manner, and the tone of her voice fell,  I dread these
next few months. I hate war and its horrors. Its pomps and
its gorgeous outward show are but miserable masks to hide its
deformities and the misery attending it. And I canhot divest
my mind of a conviction, added she, as the knight kissed
the small fingers he held in his,  that much is before us of
bitter trial.
CHAPTER XVII.
THE BANQUET AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.
 You must accompany me this evening, said the Signor
Alviano to Paoli,  to a very superb banquet given by the
wealthiest Greek merchant in Byzantium, in honour of his
daughter's marriage. You have seen little, since your arrival,
of the domestic manners and customs of the Greeks ; you will
be surprised at the display of wealth and luxury you will
witness.
 In truth, returned the knight,  I have seen little else,
since my residence here, but a very lazy and inactive popula-
tion amongst the Greeks. In Venice they would have fitted
out twenty galleys in the time they have consumed in getting
those eight ready.
 True, true ; they are proverbially slow ; but I trust they
will fight, nevertheless, with their ancient valour.
At the appointed hour the merchant and his future son-in-
law proceeded to the mansion of Alexis Catoga. About one
hundred Greeks, of the first families in the city, sat down to a
sumptuous and luxurious banquet, besides many Venetian and
104
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
Italian residents. Next to Paoli sat a young Greek, Constan-
tine Natho, one of the officers of the emperor's galleys, who
had spent much of his time in Italy. The Corsican passed a
very pleasant hour or two in listening to his account of
his travels, and also to some amusing anecdotes of his
countrymen.
It was getting very late. The Signor Alviano had departed
some time, and Paoli, feeling the heat excessive, and the guests
getting somewhat boisterous, watched his opportunity, and
quietly slipped from the saloon. He felt relieved as the keen
night-air fanned his cheek. It was extremely dark ; and the
streets, as he gained some distance from the noisy mansion of
the Greek merchant, were silent, and wholly deserted. Not in
the least acquainted with the locality he was in—for the nar-
 row streets of the city were crooked and puzzling, even to a
native—Paoli paused before a small shrine of a Greek saint,
lighted by a miserable taper, which flung its feeble rays a few
feet across the street.
While he stood irresolute and gazing through the gloom, in
hopes of seeing some straggler or object familiar to him, a
short figure, closely enveloped in a mantle with a deep hood,
suddenly appeared at his side, touching his arm. Paoli looked
round surprised, and was about to question the figure as to
his whereabouts, when it spoke, and the tones were those of a
woman, and an old one.
 Signor, said she,  will you follow me to where good for-
tune awaits you 1
The words were spoken in lingua-franco.
Giacinto replied, laughing,—
 I will willingly follow you, my good dame ; but the only
good fortune I require is to find my way to the arsenal gate.
Show me, or put me in the direct road, and here is a reward
for your services, offering some small coins.
 I can lead you, signor, to the feet of the fairest woman in
Byzantium, said the old crone, in a sharp voice.  Will you
follow me ?
 No, dame, replied the Corsican, laughing ;  the hour is
late. Here, take these paras, and show me the way to the
gate.
 And are you a man, asked the figure, in a mocking
tone,  to refuse the invitation of the beautiful Kousani when
she selects you for a lover 1 There are a hundred in Byzan-
tium who would stake a thousand zechines for such an
invitation.
 Kousani!  replied Paoli, surprised, for he remembered that
the young Greek Constantine had mentioned the name, and
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORTTS.
105
spoke of her extraordinary beauty. He said she was the only
daughter of the wealthiest Jew in the Greek empire.  No,
my worthy dame, replied the Corsican, impatiently, and
moving onwards,  since you refuse to point out my way, I
must even find it myself.
The old woman turned, away muttering some kind of execra-
tion, in a language the knight did not understand. But the
next moment a loud shriek caused him to turn round, when,
to his surprise, the old crone lay upon the ground, just be-
neath the shrine, and, striding over her, stood the figure of a
man striking at her with right good will.
Indignant at such gross usage to a female, though none of
the most amiable, the Corsican turned to chastise the fellow,
but he no sooner approached than the man darted off with
singular alacrity. The old crone groaned miserably, and
vowed every bone in her miserable body was broken by her
villanous husband, though she deserved it for her wickedness.
At the same time she implored the Corsican, as a good Chris-
tian, to help her upon her legs. This was easily done ; but
she then uttered fresh cries of pain.
'  Only help me, signor, as far as the end of this street. I
have a relative lives there, and I will get you a guide to show
you the way to the place you want.
The Corsican good-naturedly assisted the moaning creature
to a lofty, and apparently dilapidated mansion, at the door of
which she sank down, groaning more than ever.
 Push open the door, stranger, said she,  for the love of
the blessed Prophet—Virgin, I mean.
Scarcely heeding the words, and anxious to get rid of his
very disagreeable charge, the knight pushed open a very heavy
door. All was still and intensely dark within. Advancing
a step or two, he shouted aloud, when suddenly the door,
through which he entered, slammed to with a loud noise,
while, at the same moment, the spot on which he stood gave
way, and precipitated him, with stunning violence, into a vault
beUeath. Before he could even make an attempt to rise, the
light of a torch flashed through the vault, and at once four
powerful blacks threw themselves upon him, prostrate as he
was, and dizzy with a violent blow on the head received from
falling. Paoli, even with his vast strength, could offer but a
fruitless resistance to four strong men, armed with long
daggers.
After a fierce struggle, his arms were bound so strongly with
cords as to cause acute pain. Not a word was spoken. Lift-
ing him on his legs, the blacks motioned him to follow them.
Though they uttered not a word, they placed their poniards
106
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
close to his breast, and "with violent gestures threatened him
with death if he refused to obey. The Corsican felt his blood
boiling, and his temples throbbing with intense rage ; he
nevertheless moved after the blacks.
Quitting the vault, they ascended a long flight of stone
steps—through a strong trap door they emerged into a long
dismal passage. One of the blacks then opened a door of
immense thick planks, while the other three pushed the Corsi-
can within, and, shutting the door, the enraged knight heard
the massive bolts shoot into their sockets. Thus he remained
in utter darkness, with his hands bound behind him in the
most painful manner.
Groping with his feet, he ascertained that the chamber was
of very small dimensions ; he stumbled over a bench, which
was the sole furniture it contained. A bundle of straw occu-
pied one corner, upon which he, after a vain and painful
struggle to free his hands, threw himself, to ponder over the
strange and dangerous situation into which he had been
entrapped. He could by no means clearly understand the
motive of his seizure. That the vilo old crone had ensnared
him he felt satisfied ; "and, on recalling his recollection, he
remembered having heard that a daring and lawless gang of
desperadoes infested the city, and, in the miserable state of
the empire, committed many outrages. So craftily planned
were their operations, that hitherto they had escaped
detection.
If the gang that now detained him prisoner were partners
of those desperadoes, no doubt their object was ransom.
During the Crusades, large sums had been extorted from
several of the Crusaders captured in that way. Sometimes,
when no money could be obtained for their release, they were
secretly got on board ship, carried to Gallipoli or Adrianople,
and sold as slaves.
This thought for an instant made the Corsican shudder;
but, with an effort, his high spirit shook off the feeling, of
despair that was creeping over him. hie then thought of the
anxiety of his beloved Agnes when his most unaccountable
disappearance should become known. He was, however, dis-
turbed in his thoughts by hearing the bolts drawn back and
the door open, when the same four blacks and the detestable
old crone who had betrayed him entered. The woman was
now without mantle or hood, and, looking at her, he beheld
one of the fiercest and most forbidding hags he had ever the
misfortune to encounter.
 So, dog of a giaour !  yelled the wretch, as she advanced
towards him, holding a brass lamp in one hand and a brazen
ME BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
107
pitcher in the other,  so beauty had no charms for you 1 The
lovely Kousani was rejected. Ha ! ha ! And her croaking
voice in laughing sounded horribly in the ears of the Corsican,
who looked upon the old wretch with loathing.
One of the blacks carried a bundle of coarse garments,
which the crone, who seemed to have the authority of a
mistress, said were to be put on instead of those he wore.
 Hear me, woman, exclaimed Paoli, conquering his dis-
gust,  if your object is to extort money there is no further
need of ill-treatment. Name what sum you demand, and, if
within my power, you shall have it. But detain me in this
state twenty-four hours longer, if you tear my body in pieces,
not one para shall you ever receive.
 You are a fool, Christian, interrupted the woman, in a
mocking tone.  Half the amount of your capture is paid ;
and when we deliver up your carcase, be it dead or alive, to
him that has paid for it, we get the remainder. So strip.
Your body will be bound by a strong chain to the wall to keep
you out of mischief. He told us to take care of your claws,
as you were a rough one to handle. Ha! ha! ha! It's
droll, though, how an old hag mastered you, strong as you
are.
Completely astounded, Paoli stood looking from the old
wretch to the four statue-like figures of the blacks.
 This, then, thought he,  is the premeditated act of an
enemy—but who 1 
Not for one instant did the thought of Pisani, as the perpe-
trator of the outrage, enter his mind.
While he stood bewildered in fruitless conjecture, a footstep
sounded in the passage ; and, the moment after, a tall, strong
man, habited in the garb of a Greek sailor, entered, carrying a
massive chain, fastened to an iron clasp, intended for the
waist. This man was neither a Moor nor a Turk : his features
were good, but swarthy, and somewhat fierce in expression.
Thick black brows and beard added to the sternness of his
look. He cast a glance upon Paoli, and then, in a language
unknown to him, spoke to the old woman.
After a few words had passed between them, he turned to
the Corsican, speaking in pure Italian.
 Your hands shall be unbound provided you give your
word—your knightly word—such, I believe, is the custom
with you knights—to quietly take off your upper garments
and put on these, pointing to some at his feet.  If you
refuse, your legs shall be bound, yourself gagged, and the
clothes cut from your back.
Had his hands been free, Paoli would not have hesitated,
108
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
though death should follow the attempt, to attack the whole
gang, unarmed as he was. Again he offered any ransom for
his liberty, and a solemn oath to take no steps to revenge the
outrage committed upon him,
 It is quite in vain, calmly returned the man,  your
making offers to us. We have sworn to deliver you, dead or
alive, to him that employs us ; and were you to place the
ransom of a king in our hands, it would avail you nothing.
Give me your promise—your oath on the faith of a knight—
or an oath on this, and he pulled an ivory crucifix from his
vest,  that you will neither offer resistance, nor make any
attempt to escape during the next four days, and you shall be
well treated and left without bonds or chains.
 Never, ruffian, never !  fiercely exclaimed Paoli, his pas-
sion worked up to madness at the cruel situation he had fallen
into.  Do your worst. I pass no knightly word to such a
villain.
A laugh of scorn was the answer of the man, as he made a
sign ; when the four blacks instantly seized upon the Corsican,
who, with a blow of his foot, sent the foremost negro reeling
to the further end of the chamber. Then, with a prodigious
force, he burst the cords round his wrists ; but, as he did so,
the five men threw themselves upon him (exhausted with the
effort) and bore him to the ground, amid curses and execra-
tions from all, while the old fiend yelled,—
 Give him the knife !—give him the knife !—his dead car-
case is worth as much as it is with life in it.
Held to the ground by five powerful men—for the four
blacks were, in bone and muscle, nearly as strong as himself—
Paoli was almost suffocated. His garments were torn from
his back, and the coarse costume of a Scutari boatman was
substituted in their place. The massive iron clasp was then
fastened round his waist, and finally fixed, with two immense
padlocks, to a huge eye-bolt in the wall. This being done,
the man who spoke Italian spurned him with his foot.
The insult was dearly purchased, for before he could with-
draw himself from the range of the Corsican's arm, a blow that
would have felled an ox, planted between the eyes, laid
the aggressor bleeding and senseless at the feet of the
astounded blacks. A mad howl burst from the lips of the old
crone as she snatched up a knife belonging to one of the
negroes, and darted upon Paoli, shrieking with frantic rage,—
 You have killed our chief! Curses on your hand !
And, blind with rage, she struck with the knife at his face.
Yicious and detestable as was the old wretch, the knight
merely caught her hand in a grasp that rendered all her
the battle on the bosphorus.
109
members powerless but her tongue. Her wild cries brought
another actor on the scene. A tall, well-looking female, evi-
dently a Greek in features and dress, hastily entered the room,
and cast a rapid glance upon all within. Her hair and eyes
were jet black. The moment she beheld the still senseless
figure of the man whom Paoli had struck, she started back
with a cry of rage. But, kneeling down by his side, and wiping
the blood from his face, and also perceiving he was regaining
his senses, she said something to the blacks, who, raising the
man in their arms, carried him from the chamber.
Turning to the Corsican, she addressed him in good Italian,
saying,—
 Release the woman, and you will be no further molested
this night ; and you, taking the old hag by the arm,  come
with me. Had you tried gentler means, all this might have
been avoided, and our captive equally secure.
Surprised at the gentle tone and moderate behaviour of this
woman, whom Paoli, in his own mind, had set down as the
wife of the man just carried from the room, he addressed her,
imploring her to listen to his offers of liberal reward. In fact,
he offered a sum that, but for some mysterious reason, must
have satisfied the cupidity of any desperadoes, however greedy
of gain.
The woman turned her dark, piercing eyes upon the knight
for a moment without replying. At leDgth she said,—
u £To sum from you could purchase your freedom. We are
sworn ; and, strange as you may think it, from our conduct to
you, we should never dream of breaking that oath. Bead or
alive, you go to him that has bought you.
Taking the old and scowling hag by the arm, and lifting the
lamp from the floor, she and her accomplices left the chamber,
firmly bolting and barring the ponderous door after them.
CHAPTER XVIII.
the confederates.
That branch of the Sea of Marmora which forms the port of
Byzantium, and divides the Genoese settlement of Pera and
Galata from the city, runs for six miles in a serpentine figure,
and is distinguished by the name of the Golden Horn ; on the
Genoese side of which the fortifications were of amazing
strength ; several castles and fortresses, almost impregnable in
that age, when gunpowder was scarcely known, reared their
walls and lofty towers, frowning defiance upon the city oppo-
site.
110
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
The Emperor Cantacuzenus, who then sat upon the Greek
throne, beheld those imposing erections of the Genoese with
alarm ; for so contemptible had become the power of the
Greeks, that the handful of Genoese forming the garrisons of
the Castles of Pera and Galata cared little how they insulted
the inhabitants of the city.
We must now beg our readers to accompany us, on the second
night after the capture of Giacinto Paoli, into a chamber of
the strong fortress of. Galata. This tower was under the com-
mand of a Genoese captain, with a force of sixty or seventy
men. The tower was built close to the waters of the Golden
Horn, and directly facing the point on which now stands the
Seraglio. The chamber above mentioned was a large circular
one. Hung round its walls were arms and armour of various
sorts. It was then the month of December, and a cold and
bitter gale was blowing from the north-east. Seated before a
blazing wood fire sat two individua] s, both in the prime of life,
but otherwise very different in form and feature. The first to
be described is the commander of the Tower of Galata, Andrea
Campaldino.
His father, Mastino Campaldino, was a Genoese of low birth ;
but, living in adventurous and perilous times, and being gifted
with a strong frame, great courage, and skill, he fought his
way upwards with steady perseverance ; and, at the commence-
ment of this tale, commanded the forces of Genoa in her in-
vasion of Corsica. His son, Andrea, held a command under his
father, and exceeded his ■ sire in the ferocious acts of cruelty
he perpetrated upon the unhappy islanders. As already
related, Mastino Campaldino fell by the hand of Paoli; and
Andrea, in defending his sire, received from the same sword a
wound, the consequences of which embittered his after-life,
and exasperated him tenfold against the slayer of his father.
Andrea Campaldino was vain to excess of a very fine person
and exceedingly handsome features, which were irrevocably
spoiled by the sword of Paoli; for the blow not only left a deep
and unsightly scar across the left temple and cheek, but the
sight of the left eye was lost for ever.
Burning with an eager desire of vengeance against Paoli,
not only did he offer a large sum for his capture, but numerous
assassins, brought over from Genoa by his father, were let loose
on his track. • Paoli, however, baffled all the attempts upon his
life, and escaped to the Continent, while Andrea, still suffering
from the effects of his wound, threw up his command, and
returned to Genoa; and, as soon as his health was restored,
joined a body of adventurers in an expedition against the
island of Capraja, which was repulsed. Some time after he
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS. 11 J.
sailed with a Genoese fleet for the shores of the Bosphorus;
and there he obtained the command of the Tower of Galata.
When the war broke out between Venice and Genoa, Cam-
paldino employed a fast-sailing zebec in cruising along the
shores of the Bosphorus and the Sea of Marmora ; and her com-
mander, not being very particular as to the vessels he attacked,
provided he considered the capture certain, amassed a consider-
able store of plunder.
Returning from a cruise in the Propontis, the captain of
his zebec beheld the contest between our hero's galley and
the Genoese vessel commanded by the Count Durazzo, and
shortly after learned that the Venetian galley was commanded
by a Corsican of the name of Paoli. This man knew nothing
whatever of Paoli or his country ; he had made the inquiries
because he wished to shun any future encounter with the
Lion, for he had very narrowly escaped being seen by her
while plundering an Italian barque whose flag was under the
protection of Venice.
On returning to Galata, he mentioned the escape he had had
to Andrea Campaldino, stating how dangerous it was to attempt
any further depredations in the Sea of Marmora, while so fine
a galley as that commanded by Paoli was cruising in those
seas.
 Commanded by whom 1 exclaimed Campaldino, with a
start of astonishment.  What name did you say ?
"Paoli, a Corsican, I understand, in the service of Venice.
Campaldino was amazed. Could it be the same 1 All the evil
passions of his nature were roused with tenfold violence. The
captain of his zebec was an Italian by birth. Various crimes
of no light nature forced him to fly his country, and, having
been taken by a Tunisian rover, he had spent six years chained
to the oar. At length, carried to Adrianople, he there became
a Mahometan, and would have prospered by that act of in-
famy, but, having murdered a Turk in a frenzy of passion, he
fled, and, after a variety of adventures, reached Byzantium,
where he very soon became connected with one of the most
daring gangs of desperadoes and kidnappers that ever infested
that city.
When the great pestilence swept over Europe, Byzantium
suffered to an enormous amount. Three parts of her popula-
tion were carried off in one particular part of the city, and, for
years after, the houses were left to fall into ruin and decay.
Many fell, and others were without roofs. The place was
termed the plague-ground, and shunned universally, for it bore
an evil name besides.
Amid these deserted habitations the above-mentioned gang
112
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OK,
—composed of outcasts and villains of all nations—had several
hiding places, either for concealing their victims, or stowing
their plunder. The leader of this gang was killed in a night
encounter ; and Paulo Montoni, the name of Campaldino's
captain, married his widow, and shortly after was elected their
leader.
In making a voyage to Adrianople, with a number of un-
fortunate captives, kidnapped at various times, their barque,
being suspected of piracy, was chased by a Genoese galley. To be
taken with a hold full of chained Christians would be certain
destruction. It was blowing hard, and the sea rough. Paulo
Montoni and his crew scuttled the barque, and thought to
escape in the boat. The ill-starred captives sank with the vessel
before their pursuers could reach her ; but Montoni and his
comrades found their boat would not live to reach the shore in
the violent gale, which kept each instant increasing ; and had
not the galley picked them up, they must have perished.
Though not aware of the nature of their cargo, the Genoese
commander, nevertheless, thought they were pirates of some
sort or other; and, with very little examination, condemned
them to the labour of the oar. On board this galley was
Andrea Campaldino, who examined the men saved ; and, struck
with the daring and reckless manner of Paulo, he felt satisfied,
in his own mind, that he was a man who would suit him in
some views he had. When he obtained the command of the
Tower of Galata, he recollected this man, made inquiries, and
found he was working upon the ramparts of Pera. Having
sought him out, he had a conversation with him, and promised
to procure him his liberty if he would take a solemn oath to
serve him in whatever he required.
Paulo Montoni, accordingly, swore the most fearful oaths,
that, if he could liberate him, he would sacrifice life in his
service, and that he might keep him near him without fear, as
he had the power of so disguising his person as to defy detection.
"No occasion for that, observed Campaldino, "you shall be
at liberty to-morrow—I will purchase your freedom from your
master, who is under certain obligations to me.
He kept his word ; and Paulo Montoni entered the service of
Campaldino, who made him captain of a zebec he had fitted
out at his own expense. Montoni soon understood his master ;
and very shortly after informed him he was leader of a gang
of desperadoes who actually lived with impunity within the
walls of Byzantium. The confederates then made a mutual
compact. Campaldino intended, when he should have amassed
sufficient plunder, to throw up his command and return to
Genoa.
the battle on the bosphorts.
113
Paulo, besides cruising now and then, entered Byzantium,
and, to the astonishment of his wife, who was on the very
point of marrying the new leader appointed—for Montoni and
his comrades were considered to have perished—made his
appearance amid the very party assembled to celebrate the
wedding of their elected chief (a worthy Moor), who, however,
gave up the lady ; and Montoni, not to be outdone in polite-
ness, resigned the command, saying, it was all for the better,
as he required to be absent at times for a considerable period.
Campaldino set Montoni to make inquiries concerning Paoli
in Byzantium, and he very soon learned that the Paoli who
commanded the Venetian galley was the identical Paoli who
had deprived him (Campaldino) of the sight of his left eye.
 Montoni, said the Genoese,  you must entrap that Cor-
sican on his return to Byzantium. Bring him hither alive, if
possible.
 I will engage to entrap him, returned Montoni,  and
keep him secure enough in a vault from which it is impossible
he should escape. But to bring him here now that the har-
hour is so strictly guarded will be difficult. It is, however, to
be done.
 Shave his head, and dye his skin, suggested Campaldino,
with a grin of malice.  Put on him the garment of a galley
slave ; and, disguising yourself and a few more, pass him off as
a runaway from the galleys in Scutari. Mark me : he is one
of the most powerful men you have ever encountered. He is,
however, daring to recklessness. Gag him, by all means.
"Your plan is a good one, replied Montoni. "As to
his strength, have no fear. We have four blacks, each a
Hercules.
After some further conversation, Montoni crossed over to
Scutari. Thence, in disguise of a Greek mariner, he entered
Byzantium ; and, after waiting for the return of Paoli, laid his
plans to entrap him. They all failed till the night of the ban-
quet at the Greek merchant's, when Paoli so unfortunately fell
into his power.
After this digression, which was unavoidable, we return to
the circular chamber in the tower of Galata.
CHAPTER XIX.
ANDREA CAMPALDINO.
The two individuals seated before a blazing fire in the tower
of Galata were Andrea Campaldino and his lieutenant, Achilles
Furiani. The commander of Galata was at this period about
H
114
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
eight-and-twenty. He was of the middle height, and some-
what slender, yet muscular and well made. To look on one
side of his face only, the beholder would pronounce the
Genoese to he a very handsome man, but, viewing him full in
the face, the livid scar across the temple and cheek, and the
extinction of the left eye, gave him a most forbidding and
sinister expression of countenance.
In contrast to his commander, his lieutenant, Achilles, was
a man of big bones and powerful muscles, of immense bulk
and stature, but without a particle of grace or activity in his
air or manner; yet his features bore a general expression of
careless good-nature. In fact, Achilles cared but for three
things in this world, namely, good eating, considerable drink-
ing, and a little fighting—perhaps the latter was taken for
exercise, or to help digestion. Furiani was in all his patron's
secrets ; for he was a complete adventurer. Being too lazy to
do anything for himself, he was quite willing to act in any
manner which Andrea might desire, whether for good or evil.
Had his master been a good man Achilles would have followed
his example, provided he had been sufficiently supplied with
food and drink. But Campaldino was a villain ; and, conse-
quently, Furiani was in the right way of becoming one also.
The two worthies sat at each side of the fire. A table,
covered with substantial edibles and numerous flasks, graced
the apartment.
 It blows hard, Achilles, said Campaldino, stretching his
legs towards the cheerful blaze.
"Very, replied the lieutenant, filling the huge goblet with
some of the famous wine of Cyprus.  How very comfortable
the old tower is in this cursed biting wind, he added, after
getting to the bottom of a goblet that would have satisfied
any moderate man for the evening.
"Yes, returned Campaldino, looking at the empty goblet,
 and how deuced fortunate it was that Montoni transferred
those hogsheads of Cyprus wine, intended for the use of the
Greek admiral, into our keeping, or, per Bacco ! that capacious
stomach of thine would ere this have caused a drought in the
tower of Galata.
 A most useful rascal is that Paulo, observed Achilles,  if
he does not play you false some of these days.
 I have no fear in the world of him, returned Campaldino,
selecting a flask or two of the Cyprus for himself—for Furiani
required to replenish his goblet after every sentence— he is
late to-night ; he promised faithfully to be here two hours ago.
I somehow begin to fear that Corsican will slip through his
fingers, with all his acuteness.
THE BATTIE ON THE BOSPHORTJS.
115
 I only ■wish. I had my hand on him, said the lieutenant,
holding out a hand that, for vastness of palm and immense
length of fingers, was scarcely to be surpassed even by a
giant.
Campaldino smiled grimly and curled his lip, as his eye
rested upon the inactive mass before him.
 If you had, my worthy friend, returned the commander
of Galata,  you would wish it off again; for, upon my soul,
he would think as little of your fat carcase as you do of that
empty flask you have just drained.
 The devil he would! retorted Achilles, in no way
offended ;  is he a giant 1 or is he a magician ? or does he
deal in the evil eye, like those cursed Greeks ? for, per Bacco I
I do not count myself a chicken.
 No, not in eating and drinking, my worthy Achilles, nor,
indeed, in the matter of fighting either ; still, I tell you, that
cursed Corsican would drill a hole through your capacious
stomach that would effectually prevent your swilling Cyprus
as you do, and in less time than you empty a flask. He
is neither a magician nor an evil eye, nor, as far as weight
goes, as heavy a carcase as you. He stands nearly as high ;
hut his strength is surprising, his activity great, and, from
what I myself have witnessed 
"And felt, too, interrupted Furiani.
"You are right, curse him !  fiercely continued Campaldino,
passing his hand across his brow.  And he shall yet feel me !
but rouse yourself, Achilles. Go as far as the water-gate—see
if the light is in the right place—there is no trusting that
thick-headed knave on guard to-night. Montoni is late ; but,
if the light is kept clear and distinct, he will cross to-night,
notwithstanding this strong wind.
 Well, I would rather he should 
 Hark! interrupted Campaldino. "Some one ascends the
stairs.
The next moment the door opened, and Paulo Montoni
entered the chamber. The commander and his lieutenant
started, and stared with astonishment at the Italian, who ad-
vanced into the room, and, filling a goblet—for it appears there
was no kind of ceremony amongst the confederates—said,—
 By the mass ! captain, but this stuff is far better lining for
a man's inside than that confounded east wind which howls
without like a famished wolf.
 You are not far wrong, Paulo, my fine fellow, remarked
Achilles ;  but who the devil has broken the bridge of your
nose, and turned that grey eye of yours into as pretty a speci-
men of a black one as you would meet in a day's ride 1
h 2
116
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
 The same hand, by the mass!  returned Montoni, with a
careless laugh,  as spoiled our commander's beauty.
 Have you, then, bungled the job, after all ?  bitterly de-
manded Campaldino,  and got a broken nose and the side of
your face mangled as a token of remembrance 1 I told you
to take care, and warned you that he hits hard.
Corpo di Bacco /'' laughed Achilles, as he filled his own
goblet and the Italian's,  it's droll: that d d Corsican
seems to have a fancy for blinding a man. How did it happen,
eh?
 Well, if you will just give a man time to get this east wind
out of his stomach,"—and he drew his chair near to the fire,
while Campaldino gazed sulkily into the glowing embers,— I
will tell you all about it. A broken nose and a damaged optic
I certainly have got ; but, as I never was remarkable for
beauty, it matters little—especially as 1 have a wife who's not
particular as to looks, seeing she was going to marry a black
when she thought I had slipped my cable. Come, captain,
rouse ; don't look cast down—I charge nothing for the broken
nose—for, by the Pope's head, I have got the game safe and
sound ! 
 Ha! the devil you have !  exclaimed Campaldino, spring-
ing on his feet.  Why the devil did you not out with it at
once, and not be bandying jokes with that eternal wine-swiller
there ! 
 'Fore Gad, you neither of you gave me time, returned the
Italian ;  and, besides, there is nothing lost by the delay.
 You are sure you have him safe 1—no chance of escape,
eh 1 demanded Andrea.
 Not unless he walks away with two hundred weight of
iron, and eats the four blacks that are watching him like
hysenas ; to say nothing of some half dozen of the crew of the
zebec, who could lend a helping hand, if wanting.
 Well, by St. Antonio, you have managed it admirably ! 
exclaimed Andrea, tossing off' a full goblet, and then drawing
his breath as if relieved from some heavy oppression.  But
how did you manage ?—you scarcely ventured to use force in
the streets of Byzantium ? 
 No, returned Montoni;  that would have been madness
with such a man as this Corsican ; besides, we had no chance.
Since his return, his only walk was from the arsenal to the
mansion of one of the wealthiest Venetian merchants in
Byzantium, named Alviano. By-the-bye, that puts me in
mind of a plot that was hatching amid the gang at the very
period of my arrival—I mean the time when I caught my wife
on the point of marrying their present black leader. This plot was
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHOKUS.
117
to set fire to the mansion of that very merchant. His stores
are beneath the house, and are full of immensely rich goods,
which he is on the point of shipping for Venice. But, Corpo
di Bacco! somehow, 1 couldn't stomach that. There's a
lovely girl there—the merchant's daughter—and several fe-
males, and to run the risk of burning them, for the sake of
plunder, was rather too bad.
 Curse them !  muttered Achilles, actually stopping in the
middle of his draught,  they must be a precious set of hell-
hounds, these comrades of thine, eh, Montoni ? 
 I am rejoiced, Paulo, said the commander of Galata ; and
he fixed his one eye in a very expressive glance upon the un-
dimmed optic of the Italian,  to see you study as well as
practise humanity. I wonder how the devil you brought
yourself to scuttle your craft, when we gave you chase, and
thus send forty or fifty unshrived Christians into the other
world.
 Ah ! my worthy commander, that was an act of grace as
„well as self-preservation. You see they would have been sold
as slaves—a much worse fate—if you had not singled us out.
Then, if you had taken us, and found these unfortunates
aboard, you would have hanged us without mercy. Besides,
there were no females in the case—my heart is remarkably
soft when there's a petticoat in the wind. But somehow, to-
night, you are both in the humour for digressions. I shall
never get to say all I have to say, and be in time to cross
before daylight.''
 Well, Paulo, make sail then, said Achilles.  The night
is wearing out; and so, by the immortal gods, is this Cyprus
wine ! You are a thirsty dog, Montoni!
The Italian laughed, and continued his narration.
 I said this Corsican only went from the arsenal to the
merchant's house. By St. Anthony! I don't wonder at his
sticking to that beat; for the girl is worth twenty thousand
piastres. Well, I began to despair. In the dress of a Greek sailor
I can walk the streets of the city with impunity. I often passed
the knight, and, by the mass ! a finer-looking fellow no man
ever saw. At night he returned to the arsenal; but to attack
such a man with a sword by his side, and a stout able-bodied
squire walking after him, in the most frequented streets of the
whole city, would be madness. I showed him one day to our
decoy-duck—an old fiend in the shape of a woman, the mother
of my wife. I beg your pardon, Signor Furiani, just share
that flask—I see it's the last.
 Confound you ! Go on, man, pettishly exclaim,ed Cam-
paldino.  You have both drunk enough to muddle a dozen.
118
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
 Keep your temper, noble capitano, fortune smiles on you,
as it did on me. This Paoli attended a feast, and, as luck
would have it, he left the banquet alone. Our decoy and two
of the gang were lurking near. They saw him entangle him-
self in the streets, and quickly concerted a plan to get him to
enter a house they have on the place called the plague-ground,
which is fitted up with a trap-door at the entrance. The old
woman tried to get him to follow her to a rendezvous with the
beautiful Jewess, Kousani, with the intention of persuading
nim that she was in love with him ; but our friend, not being
amorously inclined, or else too much in love with the mer-
chant's daughter, only laughed at her. But, by the mass! the
old woman was too much for him. She pretended her husband
was beating her—the Corsican helped her up. She implored
him to assist her to the house of a friend—he did so, and
entered the door to call this friend, when down he went through
the trap, striking his head against the side, or, by St. Antonio!
there would have been a broken skull among my black tigers.
As it is, he has lamed one of them for a month with a kick. I
was so enraged that I gave him a push with my foot, and,
Corpo di Bacco ! he felled me to the earth with a blow between
the eyes, depriving me of my senses for an hour or so, and
effectually spoiling the beauty of my nose, as you very justly
observe. But the question now is, how am I to get him across
the harbour ? His disappearance has caused the utmost con-
sternation. An order has been issued by command of the
emperor, for the most diligent search to be made through
every house suspected ; a body of the Venetian sailors are
nightly guarding the gates ; nothing passes without inspec-
tion; and large sums are offered by the Venetian merchant,
Alviano, for any kind of information respecting the disappear-
ance of the Corsican. Twice we had to fear an inspection of
our hiding places; but, even had the searchers entered, my
spies would have given us sufficient time to place our prisoner
in the secret vaults.
 And why the devil, exclaimed Campaldino,  did you not
place him there at first, and keep him there 1 Why run any
risk whatever 1 Surely you do not fear his health, he added,
with a mocking laugh.
"Well, by the mass! captain, you are hard. Why, four-
and-twenty hours down in those vaults, this season of
the year, would kill a dog. The waters are now up, and
the whole of the secret vaults are at this moment two feet
deep in water. The passages out into the waters of the port
are completely blocked: one or two of them would do on a
pinch : that is, we might hide in them during search—but
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORTTS.
119
the devil himself wouldn't be able to pass a couple of days
there.
 What, then, do you propose to do ?  demanded Campaldino.
 I know nothing of the localities, and can devise no plan.
"Why, you see, captain, replied the Italian, "he is an
extremely ugly customer to have the care of. He is utterly
reckless of life; and I feel satisfied, if only one moment at
liberty, would attack us all, and brain some of us before we
could either secure or cut him down. Now, my plan is this:—
one of our gang is a Greek who keeps a kind of shop in the
bazaar—he is our chief spy, and his shop only a sham. Now
this fellow is from Scutari, and a huge big brute he is. He
must die.
 Eh 1—what the devil! exclaimed Achilles, opening his
eyes, which were beginning to close from repeated applica-
tion to the Cyprus wine.  You don't mean to say you will
murder your own comrade in order to 
 Tut, tut, Signor Achilles, interrupted the Italian, laugh-
ing boisterously,  what a chicken heart you have in that huge
carcase of yours ! But rest contented : we do not murder our
comrades. This Greek must only get sick ; and we shall give
it out he is dead, and, of course, his friends will bury him in
his native place, Scutari. A dose of opium will render our
friend the Corsican a quiescent subject for a few hours. We
will then enclose him in a coffin, procure a pass, and embark
the body for Scutari. A well-manned galley from your side
can meet us half way. The rest I need not detain you in re-
lating. It's very late. What think you of my plan 1 for I
must be off. All I can tell you is, it will be impossible to keep
him in Byzantium a week longer; for that d d squire of
his is more to be dreaded than the Greek emperor or his entire
guards.
 There is risk, and great risk, too, said Campaldino, after
a pause. Then, rising, he took the Italian by the arm, and led
him from the chamber unnoticed by Achilles, who gave audible
tokens that the Cyprus wine had left him in a happy state of
forgetfulness.
Campaldino, as he parted with Montoni, said, speaking low
and distinctly,—
 You have sworn to obey me—no matter what I required
of you. Now heed me. Should the slightest chance occur to
enable your prisoner to escape, slay him. You understand me V
 Perfectly, capita/no, perfectly ; and it shall be done.
 And more, resumed the commander,  let him know, at
the time, that Andrea Campaldino, son of that Mastino Cam-
paldino whom he slew, is the striker.
120
the sunny south ; or,
 JBenissimo !  said the Italian.  That is, I suppose, to con-
sole him on his passage to eternity.
Campaldino returned to his chamber, while the Italian pur-
sued his way, muttering to himself,—
 I'll do it. It's a much easier plan. My worthy captain
will be quite satisfied ; and thus a few inches of cold steel will
save a world of trouble. St. Antonio ! it will be an act of
grace. In the power of my worthy commander, the rest of his
days would be passed in a dungeon, or the executioner's axe
would shorten him by a head. Benissimo ! 
CHAPTER XX.
THE ESCAPE.
Paoli was no sooner left to his own bitter reflections, than
he threw himself on the ground almost in despair. As he did
so, with his usual impetuosity, and without paying attention
to the length of his chain, he gave a violent jerk to the fetters,
and, to his astonishment, the huge eye-bolt in the wall, into
which his chain was padlocked, came out, and fell to the
ground. Springing to his feet, with thanksgiving to Provi-
dence, he took up the bolt, and as a faint light—for it was
then day—entered the chamber through a strong grating on
the top of the wall, he examined the bolt. It was about three
feet in length, and passed through an iron socket into the next
chamber. In the end of the bolt was a hole for a stout pin to
pass through, so as to prevent the bolt from being drawn out.
This pin must either not have been inserted, or else it had
dropped out by accident.
 Perhaps, thought Paoli,  they have forgotten to examine
whether the pin was properly placed. If so, and if they re-
member their neglect, they will be here in a body, and see
what has happened.
On looking at the bolt, it at once struck him that by in-
serting its smaller end into the staple that joined the iron
clasp round his body, he could snap it, and thus free himself
altogether of the ponderous chain.
With a powerful wrench, that caused him intense pain, he
snapped the link. It next occurred to him to replace imme-
diately the bolt in the socket ; which he did ; and then, re-
adjusting the iron round his waist, and tying it so as to keep it
up with a strip of his torn garment, he threw himself on the
straw, tired and exhausted, to ponder how he was next to
proceed.
He had not reposed for more than a few moments, when he
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
121
distinctly heard, on the other side of the wall, the blow as of a
heavy hammer upon iron.
 They are driving a pin into the bolt, thought the Corsican.
The sounds ceased, and, after some moments of delay, he
arose and tried the bolt: it was firm as a rock.
 They had forgotten to examine the pin, that is evident,
thought our hero.  I will take it as a good omen, he men-
tally ejaculated ;  and, with the aid and blessing of Providence,
I shall effect my escape from this nest of villains.
All was quiet throughout the mansion. Paoli felt thirsty ;
and as the pitcher containing water was within his reach, he
drank, and was refreshed. While doing so, a thought struck
him. The vessel was of brass or copper, and extremely heavy.
"Not a bad weapon, thought our hero, as he poised it in his
hand. "A blow of this would surely brain one of those in-
fernal negroes ; and if I can possess myself of his short sword,
I think I shall be a match for the rest.
As yet, Paoli had not touched the vessel placed beside the
pitcher, containing, he was aware, some kind of food. But as
the faint light of day receded, and a deep gloom pervaded his
miserable chamber, he felt nature required sustenance, not-
withstanding the agony of his thoughts. The food was certainly
not inviting ; but Paoli, accustomed during his early life to
hard and scanty fare, when forced to seek shelter in the moun-
tains of his native land, ate sparingly of what was before him,
and, shortly afterwards, fell into a deep slumber.
Thus passed the first night after his capture. The following
day, and several hours of the night, also wore away, and he
began to feel the fever of impatience stealing over him, when
the sounds of bolts drawn back aroused his attention. Stand-
ing close by the pitcher, with one hand resting on the place
where he had slightly fastened the iron ring round his body,
so as to hide the broken staple, and with a quick-beating but
resolute heart, he determined to dare his fate.
The door swung back, and the detestable old crone, followed
by two of the blacks, with naked cutlasses, or short swords, in
their hands, entered. The old woman "grinned horribly a
ghastly smile, as she desired one of the blacks to put the
water he carried into the pitcher, while she poured the contents
of a large bowl into the pan that held the Corsican's food,
saying,—
 You can eat, I see. Ha ! ha ! It's pleasant to think this
is the last meal we shall have to provide for you.
As the black advanced, Paoli stooped and raised the pitcher
to his lips. Refreshed by the draught, for his mouth was
parched by intense anxiety, he suddenly swung the ponderous
122
THE STTONT SOUTH J OR,
vessel, with terrible force, at the head of the negro, who, with-
out a groan, fell senseless to the ground. His comrade, with a
frantic jell, aimed bis cutlass at Paoli's head ; but the Cor-
sican was prepared. Dropping the ponderous chain, he sprang
upon the body of the prostrate black, seizing his cutlass. The
aim of the other negro, nevertheless, found its victim. The
wretched old woman had darted forward to seize the garments
of the prisoner, on seeing him spring forward. The blow, there-
fore, fell, without his having power to check it, right on the
skull of the old crone. With a shriek that rang through the
silent mansion, she dropped, pierced to the brain, beside the
prostrate negro. Before another moment had elapsed, Paoli
had struck the remaining black helpless to the ground ; then,
snatching up the light, he rushed from the chamber.
A long passage was without, at one end of which was a flight
of stairs. Paoli took the turn to the left. As he did so, he
heard the sound of a man's voice shouting from above, and, in-
stantly after, other voices. Then came the tramp of heavy
feet descending the stairs. Rushing along the passage, he ar-
rived at a door fastened by bolts on his side. Pulling these
back, and dashing open the door, he beheld a flight of many
stone steps. He was now seen by half a dozen men descending
the stairs, he first noticed on leaving his prison. On beholding
him, they raised a shout of rage and a volley of imprecations.
The Corsican rushed at a bound down the flight of steps, and
along a narrow passage.
The sounds of his pursuers came nearer and nearer. Another
door now barred his passage : it was bolted and fast locked.
Mad with excitement, the knight threw himself with all his
power against this, as he hoped, only barrier to liberty. Shouts
of exultation reached his ear ; his pursuers were in the same
long passage, when the door gave way with a crash, and Paoli
fell forward, somewhat stunned with the shock. The bright
vault of heaven was now above him ; but, alas ! he had only
burst his way into a very small court-yard, surrounded by
a wall upwards of fifteen feet high.
''Now to God, and my weapon, I trust my life !  ejaculated
the knight, as he turned to meet his enemies ; when his eyes
fell upon a tall ladder, resting against the house.
With a fervent prayer to Heaven, he seized the ladder, placed
it against the outer wall, and rapidly ascended. As he gained
the top, his pursuers rushed with shouts and curses into the
court; but Paoli, with a force of which many strong men would
have been incapable, raised the ladder, before the persons below
could seize it; and, in the peril of the moment, he let it fall on
the other side. A burst of imprecations issued from the two
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
123
blacks and four men, in the garb of common sailors, who filled
the court below ; but Paoli did not hesitate a moment. He
saw there was a wide ditch behind the wall ; and into it he
dropped, heedless of its contents or depth ; for he conjectured
his enemies would seek the nearest egress to pursue him.
Extricating himself from a mass of stagnant and filthy water,
the fugitive hastened across a heap of ruins, and thence into a
kind of square of ruined and deserted houses. The night was
far advanced ; and, though fine, was dark. He had not the
most remote idea where he was ; but hastened on, expecting
each moment to enter some habitable part of the city. He was
then crossing the spot called the "plague-ground. After
innumerable stumbles over ruined walls, and half-filled ditches
he found himself, as well as he could judge by the appearance
of the houses in the darkness of the night, among dwellings
tenanted by the poorer class of Greeks.
While he paused to regain breath, and return thanks to
Heaven for his most fortunate escape from his unknown enemies,
a glowing light suddenly illumjned the sky above his head,
increasing every moment in brightness. Paoli soon became
convinced that a fierce fire raged in a distant part of the city,
and this idea was confirmed by the great bell of Santa Sophia,
which suddenly sent forth its solemn and awful peal on the
dead stillness of the night.
As he hastened along, the windows of many of the houses
were thrown up hastily, and half-dressed men and women gazed
forth in alarm, many of whom rushed from their houses, and
hastened towards the quarter whence myriads of sparks and vast
volumes of smoke were seen to mount into the sky.
 Where is this fire 1 demanded Paoli of a Greek, one of a
group hurrying towards the scene of destruction.
 In the great street leading from Santa Sophia to the hos-
pital, exclaimed the man, gazing for a moment at the strange
costume of the Corsican.
Paoli started. This was the street in which stood the man-
sion of the merchant Alviano. Dropping the cutlass he still
carried in his hand, the knight, with an anxious mind, fol-
lowed the now great crowd hurrying forward, eager to be spec-
tators ; many hoping to be plunderers.
The glare of the fire, as they advanced, lit the houses and
streets with a radiance more dazzling than the day. The flames
rose high above the intervening houses, shooting in spiral
wreaths towards the crimsoned sky. The shouts and cries from
the men, and the wild shrieks of the women—the rapid tolling
of the various bells of that quarter of the city—the galloping
of the guards, with the glare of the fire flashing from their
124
the sunny south ; ob,
bright armour, altogether formed a sight and created a din
which almost bewildered our hero.
At length he came upon the scene of the disaster ; and
beheld, with horror, the entire side of the noble street in which
stood Alviano's house one vast sheet of flame. Thousands of
human beings thronged the scene of danger ; some assisting
to save the miserable and half-naked inhabitants ; others, eager
for plunder, perishing in the very act. It was a heart-rending
sight; the mother shrieking for her child—the child for its lost
mother. For a second Giacinto stood appalled ; but the next,
he plunged madly through the mass, and paused not till he
reached the blazing front of the merchant's mansion. A circle
of guards surrounded the spot, while numbers of men were
hurrying to and fro in wild confusion.
As he reached the place, Paoli beheld his own squire, Pulini,
rushing from the mansion, bearing upon his stout shoulders
the Signor Alviano, their garments scorched and blazing. In
a voice fearfully distinct, even amid the roar and the crackling
of the fire, the merchant cried out,—
 My child ! my child ! Ten thousand piastres, nay, all my
wealth, to him who saves my child ! 
But the wall of fire that now presented itself appalled the
stoutest heart.
With a cry of agony, Paoli dashed aside the mob ; and, partly
covering his head with his well-soaked garment, disappeared
amid the flames, while a cry of horror burst from the spectators,
as they beheld the doometj victim of gallantry or avarice thus
rush madly upon destruction.
Still the fire raged on with unabated violence, unchecked
by the simple means used in those days. i And when the morn-
ing sun broke in wintry splendour upon the scene of the past
night's horrors, nothing remained of the splendid mansions
that lined the noble street of Santa Sophia but a mass of
blackened ruins and smoking timbers.
CHAPTER XXI.
the hole in the wall.
In a large chamber, sumptuously furnished, the merchant,
Alviano was reclining on a sofa, on the morning after the fire-
By his side sat our hero, altered in dress and appearance since
we last introduced him to our readers, plunging amid the flames
of the merchant's house. His left arm was supported in a sling.
His fine head of hair had totally vanished, excepting the few
crisped and bufint edges round the crown : his forehead, and face
were also somewhat scorched; but otherwise he was sound and
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORTJS.
125
well, and in uncommon high, spirits. The Signor Alviano was
but slightly burned about the hands and head, but much
bruised. A young female was busy bathing his temples with
a cooling lotion.
 Why, my son, said the merchant,  you bear scorching
better than a salamander. You scarcely heed the suffering
from your burns.
 My dear sir, replied Paoli,  the delight of saving my be-
loved Agnes would blunt the agony of martyrdom at the stake.
But here comes the Signora Talineo. How fares it now with
your beloved charge, signora ?
 Excepting the loss of a few ringlets, and the effect of
terror, she has sustained no injury, and will, I make no
doubt, be able to rise to-morrow and join us at breakfast. She
almost raves of your wonderful strength and gallantry, Signor
Paoli, and your marvellous appearance at such a moment. In
truth, I am as anxious to hear of your adventures as Agnes.
While Paoli is relating his recent dangers to his anxious
and curious auditors we will account for the almost unlooked-
for salvation of Agnes from the flames that utterly destroyed
the merchant's mansion, though the stores beneath remained
uninjured, being arched with stone in case of fire, which fre-
quently happened in the narrow streets of Byzantium, where
most of the houses were built of wood.
When the Corsican, with desperate recklessness of lifb,
plunged amid the flames, his well-soaked and muddy garment,
to a certain extent, protected him in his first rush through the
wall of fire. Scorched and half suffocated with the flame and
smoke that filled the hall, amid the crackling of the burning
timbers, the falling of beams, and the fearful roar of the de-
structive element, Giacinto, as he rushed up the half consumed
stairs, caught the shrieks of female voices.
Leaping, with desperate energy, over an awful chasm in the
stairs, he gained, after incredible efforts, the corridor leading
to the sleeping apartments of Agnes and the Signora Tolmeo
—fortunately for the latter, she had gone that night to visit a
sick friend : as he rushed on, battling the flames, and escaping
by miracle the falling rafters, he heard a crash behind him,
followed by an increased roar of the furious element. He cast
a look back—retreat that way was gone, for the platform and
entire remaining stairs had disappeared. At that moment,
through the smoke, he beheld Agnes upon her knees, her head
pressed upon the shoulder of her favourite attendant, and her
fine hair streaming wildly over her garments. The platform
on which she knelt was, as yet, untouched by the flames ; but,
like a devouring fiend, on came the fire, climbing the pillars,
126
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OB,
and greedily shooting its forked tongues over the platform on
one side,
A fervent thanksgiving to God hurst from the lips of the
knight, as he shouted,—
"Agnes, my beloved one, throw yourself from the platform
into the arms of one who will perish with, or save you.
With a wild cry of delight and unbounded astonishment,
the maiden started to her feet at the sound of that well-known
voice.
 Courage, light of my life !  he exclaimed, extending his
arms ;  the spot you stand on trembles.
Without hesitation, Agnes threw herself into his embrace.
He caught her with ease in his powerful arms, and even aided
her attendant, who leaped after. The next moment the flames
rushed, as it were, rejoicingly over the spot. The remaining
pillars snapped, and down went the platform, thundering into
the flaming abyss below.
Fortunately the fall of the platform and the adjoining
chamber for the instant crushed the fire between the Corsican
and a door leading to the balcony looking out from the back.
Pressing Agnes close to his breast, and covering her head with
his upper garment, he burst through the flames and through
the door. Here, also, all was flame and smoke. Followed by
the horror-stricken attendant, whose screams were fearful, as
she*felt the scorching heat, he gained the balcony. Volumes
of flames were bursting from all the windows of the house, re-
vealing everything beneath in startling distinctness. As he
appeared in the balcony, a wild cheer burst from numerous
voices below, and a tall ladder was raised against the balcony
by a man, whom Paoli at once knew to be his squire, Pulini.
 My master—my beloved master!  shouted Pulini, as he
distinguished the lofty figure and countenance of the Corsican.
The descent of the ladder was a perilous feat, for the flames
rushed out of the windows below in vast sheets ; but Paoli did
not hesitate. He commenced to descend, though the ladder
shook with his weight. The poor girl who followed him uttered
a cry of horror, and, terrified by the flames that burst out even
on the light balcony on which they stood, staggered and fell
forward. With a desperate effort, the gallant Corsican grasped
her by the garments. The next instant, before he could re-
cover his hold of the ladder, it snapped ; and all the knight
could do was to clasp his beloved in his arms and leap
forward, so as to take the shock of the fall on himself. But
the forethought and activity of Pulini saved them from broken
limbs. He had covered the ground beneath the balcony with
every available article sufficiently soft to break their fall.
THE BATTlE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
127
Paoli escaped with a severely, bruised arm. Agnes was almost
unhurt; but the poor girl was senseless when taken up,
though she eventually recovered, after a tedious and painful
illness.
In the meantime Paoli related to the Signor Alviano and
the Signora Tolmeo his seizure by some unknown enemy, and
his most fortunate escape. In vain was every effort of thought
exerted in conjectures as to who this unknown enemy was.
Paoli knew of no human being to whom he could impute
the outrage. Pisani had been forced to sail the night before
the fire for Negropont; but during the two days of Paoli's ab-
sence he had never ceased to exert himself to discover the
cause. Day and night Pulini, with a strong party of his
Yenetian crew, searched every suspected habitation in the city.
As to Agnes, her alarm was great; and had a few days more
passed without tidings she would have considered her lover lost
to her for ever. And we may justly say, so firm and devoted was
her heart, that the blow would have rankled there for ever.
 How did this fire originate, signor 1 demanded Paoli.
 The loss must be terrible to the merchants residing in that
street.
 Only trifling, replied the Signor Alviano ;  few had any
merchandise of value in their stores. The only three really
wealthy merchants residing in Santa Sophia were, like myself,
provided against accidents, by vaults built purposely to resist
fire. How the fire originated is not yet known. It broke out
in the house adjoining mine ; and so extremely rapid was the
destructive element, that if Pulini, who spent the night out
hunting for your place of concealment—for your worthy squire
would have it you were kidnapped—had not arrived first at
the scene of disaster, and burst in our doors, we should have
perished. But the flames had already pierced our mansion in
three places. A heavy gale was blowing. Blinded with smoke
and terror, I was rushing into the midst of the flames, thinking
to reach my child, when Pulini seized me and carried me off
. like a child, let me down, and then ran off to the back of the
mansion with ladders, intending to save my beloved daughter.
But without you, my son, my child would have perished;
when, in truth, the days of Alviano had been numbered.
Nearly a week passed before Paoli beheld his beautiful
betrothed; but the meeting amply repaid our hero for the
dangers and sufferings he had undergone.
The following week, Admiral Pisani and the entire Yenetian
and Catalan fleet were expected before Byzantium, for it was
evident that a contest must take place between the combined
fleets. The emperor's galleys were now completely ready for
128
THE SUNNY SOUTH; OK;
sea ; and Greek and Venetian equally longed for a trial of
strength ; for while things remained as they were, commerce
beyond the Propontis was at a stand. The galleys of Admiral
Poria swarmed in the Archipelago ; and the young nobility of
Genoa, whose numbers were said to amount to more than a
thousand, longed to commence hostilities.
Paoli, having a day to spare, determined to pass an hour or
so in endeavouring to discover the place where he so narrowly
escaped falling a victim to an unknown enemy. With Pulini,
and six men belonging to his own galley, he commenced his
search. After a considerable time spent in vain, he recollected
the ruinous state of many of the houses about the place from
which he had escaped. On mentioning this to their Greek
guide, he said,—
 Let us go to the plague-ground.
To this place they at once proceeded ; and, after a long
search amid the miserable houses, Paoli at length recognized
the ditch into which he had thrown himself, and the high wall
about it. They then proceeded to the front. The house had
once been a large and substantial one ; but not a vestige of a
window frame was now left. The roof also had fallen in; and
the walls, which were of stone, were dripping with moisture
and stained by mildew. No door of any kind barred their
entrance.
 This is certainly the house, said Paoli to his squire.  But
my worthy friends have walked off with the door. Take care
on entering to avoid the trap down which I was precipitated.
 It makes me shudder, said Pulini,  to think of the fear-
ful risk you ran. But here is the hole, sure enough, and open,
and no sign of a trap or door to it. It looked as black as
night below them.
One of the sailors threw a ponderous stone down to try the
depth, and a loud splash of water followed.
"That is singular, remarked the Corsican, as he proceeded
along the narrow hall.  There was no water there a few
nights ago.
 I remember having heard, said the Greek guide,  that
the vaults under this plague-ground are inundated in the
winter by the waters of the Golden Horn ; for you see this
spot lies very low ; and the deep fosses are filled now to over-
flowing from the same source.
Paoli examined several chambers; and at length entered
the very one in which he had been fastened to the wall. Not
an article of any sort remained in the room ; but on the floor
it was easily seen that a quantity of blood had fallen.
 The wretched old hag no doubt perished on that spot,
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
129
said the Corsican.  But what have we here 1' he continued,
as he advanced to examine the hole in the wall, where the
eye-bolt had been fixed. A paper was nailed just over the
orifice. Paoli tdok it down, and read aloud the few lines on
it, written in good Italian :—
"We are sorry to find that the Sign or Paoli did not relish
his place of abode. Twenty-four hours longer would have
consigned him to one from whence there could be no return.
'Tis the chances of war. Let the Signor Paoli take care ; for
there are twenty poniards in Byzantium ready sharpened and
thirsting for revenge.
Paoli smiled as he tore the paper to pieces; while Pulini
stood confounded.
 Say nothing of this, Pulini, said the knight;  it is need-
less alarming the Signor Alviano's family by imparting to
them the idle boast of a gang of baffled ruffians. Let us just
have a look at the rooms above.
They entered several, all capable of being inhabited, but
perfectly bare of all the necessaries of life. Not a single
article remained.
 They have certainly not left a vestige behind them, said
Paoli.  It is quite useless either continuing our investiga-
tion or tormenting our minds about such miscreants.
 Signor, exclaimed the squire, in a very exasperated tone,
"the sooner we sail to meet our old foes the better. We can
see them, and feel them, and, thanks to the Virgin, make them
feel us in return. But these lurking assassins strike in the
dark. I thought, when we quitted Venice, that we had done
with masks and poniards, and such like cowardly weapons.
But here, cos-petto, we have twenty sharpening for us.
 Ready sharpened, Pulini, returned Paoli, with a hearty
laugh.  Cheer up, my worthy friend. In a few days we
shall have too much to do even to think of such impotent
threats.
Paoli was right. The very next morning Pisani arrived in
his galley, with the intelligence'that the Venetian and Catalan
fleet had left their harbours, and were in full sail for
Byzantium.
Pisani was overjoyed at seeing his friend, the Corsican, safe
and sound. He listened to his account'of his adventures with
surprise ; but, like the knight himself, he felt little uneasiness
concerning the threat of the twenty poniards.
 We shall, he remarked, "have scarcely an hour to spare
on shore ; for there is not a shadow of doubt that this dispute
between our rival republics will be settled in the wateys
of the Propontis. Doria and his galleys have left their
I
130
the sunny south ; ob,
■winter quarters; and, before long, we shall see them before
Byzantium.
If Paoli was indifferent with respect to the threats of his
enemies, not so was Pulini. There was no selfishness in.his
uneasiness, for the honest squire only cared for his beloved
master, Not even from the Arsenal to the hired mansion the
Signor Alviano inhabited would he permit his master to go
without wearing some defensive armour; while he secretly
had him watched by four of the crew, natives of Corsica,
shipped as part of the seamen at Venice. Agnes knew nothing
of the threatened poniards. Nevertheless she felt more easy '
in her mind on observing that her lover took some precautions
against any further attack of his unknown enemies.
For the last few days the merchant had been busy in re-
moving the ruins of his once splendid mansion from over the
vaults, and in recovering the valuable stores beneath. He
felt increasing anxiety for the termination of the war, and
most desirous for the union of his child with Paoli. He
looked upon the events forthcoming with deep interest and
some apprehension, being aware of the deep affection of his
gentle daughter for the Corsican; aware, also, of the im-
petuosity and reckless chivalry of his intended son-in-law,
who would be sure, in the eager desire of performing an action
of note, to do some desperate feat. He trembled, at times,
when the thought rushed through his mind that, should the
Corsican fall in the coming strife, his daughter's happiness
would be wrecked for ever.
At length the combined fleets of Arragon and Venice en-
tered the Bosphorus. Seventy-five noble galleys anchored
before Byzantium. Agnes beheld this magnificent sight from
a balcony ; and if her sight was gratified by beholding so
imposing and picturesque a' scene, her little heart beat some-
what faster when she thought of what was to follow.
The Catalan galleys were commanded by one of the bravest
admirals in the service of Spain, Ponsio De Santa Paz, who
merited a better fate than fell to his lot.
CHAPTER XXII.
plot and projects.
On the ramparts of the tower of Galata stood three indi-
viduals, looking with extreme interest upon the galleys of the
Venetian and Catalan squadron, as they majestically swept up
the port of Byzantium and anchored.
THE BATTLE OH THE B0SPH0RUS.
131
The three individuals were the commander of the tower,
his worthy lieutenant, and their villanous associate, Paulo
Montoni.
 Those are noble galleys, well manned and handled, ex-
claimed Montoni, who, a sailor from his childhood, loved all
belonging to seafaring life.
 The galleys of Doria are very much larger, remarked
Campaldino ;  and half the nobility of Liguria walk their
decks.
 Gospetto, there will be some broken heads, said Achilles,
rubbing his own huge caput, and yawning terrifically.  What
a botch you made of that last job, Montini: not that I know
much about it. The only part of your conference I heard the
other night was that the Corsican split your respectable
mother's head with a pitcher : a curious weapon that for a
knight.
 Tut, man, interrupted Montoni,  you were too drunk to
hear anything right. I never had a mother, as far as I know,
nor did that cursed Corsican kill the old woman.
 Well, it matters very little, amico returned Achilles,  I
wish it was time for dinner ; but, as I was saying—cospetto,
how remarkably hungry this keen breeze off the Propontis
makes one feel. It matters very little how an old woman is
killed. What's to be done now ?
"Why, you drone, exclaimed Campaldino, "you have
done nothing this last three months but eat and drink.. Now
you must fight a little.
"Eh,'per Bacco, be it so. I am ready. But, upon my soul,
I do not see much use in that, if there is no plunder to be got.
I never did fight for glory, and it's rather late to begin. Tell
me, amico mio, is there no chance of catching this Corsican
during this approaching contest 1
 None whatever that I can see, replied Montoni.  He
commands one of the finest galleys in the whole fleet; and his
crew are all ready to sacrifice life for him.
Turning to Campaldino, who stood wrapped in gloomy
thought, gazing out over the fair Propontis, as it lay rippling
and sparkling under the cheering beams of a winter's sun—
 You said, observed Montoni,  when we next met you had
a plan in your head to unfold. What is it 1
 In the name of all the saints, exclaimed Achilles,  come
down from this. We are only filling our stomachs with east
wind, which, truth to say, never sat easy upon mine when
empty. It's near feeding time, too.
 Did I not know that you can fight at a pinch, testily
exclaimed the commander of Galata, as he led the way from
i 2
132
THE SXJNNT SOUTH ; OR,
the battlements,  I would not take the weight, in beef, of that
carcase of thine a week to feed thee.
 Cospetto, Andrea, don't grumble. Do you remember when,
tumbled over by a blow of a huge stone from the ramparts of
Capraja, how this carcase of mine, in a hot, sweltering day in
August, carried you on its back, near a mile, to the boats, eh 2
Was I lazy, then, Andrea 1 Only show me a prospect of some-
thing, after twenty-four hours of as hard fighting as you
please, and I am your man.
"Well, well, come below ; there is a flask or two of Cyprus
left, and I will let you hear a proposal I have to make, for I
am tired of this cursed old tower, and of this part of the world
altogether.
 St. Antonio! and so am I, responded Montoni,  espe-
cially as my trade in Byzantium is knocked on the head. The
emperor has ordered all the old ruins in the plague-ground to
be cleared away, and a strong fort, as it commands the Horn,
to be built on the spot.
 Now, observed Achilles, making himself comfortable by
drawing his chair near to the fire, after making, as he termed
it, a moderate dinner,  let us hear what you have to say.
 In the first place, commenced Campaldino,  there is little
to be gained by holding the command of this tower ; and very
little prospect of a higher one as long as the unprovided sons
of our nobility come, out here on speculation. In the next
place, we have lost our zebec ; and even if we had another, our
cruising, for a long time to come, is over. You remember,
Achilles, our attempt on the Island of Capraja, some two or
three years back.
 I ought to remember it, Andrea. I reminded you, a while
ago, how I carried you, like a dead turtle, on my back.
 Yes, I remember it well, and the infernal beating we got
from those half-savage islanders. I don't see, even now, what
induced you to join that ill-planned expedition.
 Plunder, my worthy amico ; plunder.
 Plunder !  echoed Furiano. Yes ; you talked of something
of the kind at the time, but, for the life of me, I can't imagine
what plunder there's to be had in an island a man may swim
round in six hours. Why, the whole island wouldn't grow
enough wine to keep me during the winter.
 And yet, to that very island is my attention directed. We
failed before, it is true, for the expedition was ill-planned. We
knew nothing of the locality, and were quite ignorant of the
existence of a fortress as strong and as imposing as any you
may see from the summit of this tower.
Achilles stared at his commander—pitched another log op
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHOEUS.
133
the fire—filled his own goblet to the brim—and then, nodding
his huge head, said—
 Go on, captain : let us hear what the diavolo you are a-oina:
to propose.
 Well, I will enlighten you, returned Andrea.  Montani
can give you all kinds of information with regard to the capa-
bilities of the island in growing wine ; for he will tell you
that it grows not only a great quantity of grapes, but that
the wine made from them, nearly, if not fully, equals this
Cyprus.
 And what the diavolo brought you upon the island ? de-
manded Furiani, turning, with a look of surprise, upon the
Italian.
 Oh ! as to that, returned Montoni,  it is easily accounted
for. I fled ; or rather, I should say, was recommended change
of air, that of Livorno getting rather hot for me. I was so
pressed as to time that I was glad to sail on the instant in
a small tartana bound for Capraja. I thought a few months
residence there might be' to my advantage, being then a
younger man, and a devilish good-looking fellow to boot. You
may laugh, Achilles, but my nose was not broken then. I
captivated a Caprese maiden of the household of the Marchese
Damari. Well, we are all subject to weak moments, and I fell
in love with the girl, and was persuaded to offer myself as a
valet to the Marchese, his former man having died suddenly
of a brain fever.
"Are you spinning a yarn, as you sailors call it ?  demanded
Furiani, turning his dark eyes upon his companion.  Is there
a word of truth in what you are relating 1 
 Per Bacco, you are polite, Achilles, said Montoni, laughing.
 But it's all truth. You are, perhaps, surprised at a man of
my genius taking the place of a valet. But, pazienza, I had
something else in view besides pressing the hands of this fair
ragazza. The Marchese, a fine-looking man at that time,
resided in the old castle built by one of his ancestors. A fine
stately building it is. Either he or his father built the fortress
that now commands and guards the harbour.
"Fill your goblet, Paulo, you are getting very dry, said
Furiani. "St. Anthony ! what will all this turn to in the end 1
 Aspetta, aspetta, amico mio. It will come to something
by and by. But if you do not keep quiet the wine will be out
before my story is done. The Marchese, continued he,  is the
feudal lord of Capreja, and his revenue is much more con-
siderable than you would suppose. A faro is kept lighted on
the fortress hill; and the harbour is one of the finest for its
size in the Mediterranean. Hundreds of vessels take refuge
134 THE STONY* SOUTH ; OR,
there when gales blow out of the Gulf Genoa. All the inhabi-
tants pay a certain tax. But now to the pith of what I have
to say. The Marchese, after asking me a few questions,
accepted my services for a time ; and I took up my abode in
the castle. The Marchese's father had married an Italian
lady, one of the wealthiest heiresses in all Italy, especially in
land, houses, and jewels. The Marchese, when married, con-
verted the whole into gold, and carried it, with his bride, to
his favourite island. The wealth, so realised, is said to be
enormous, and is secured in immense iron chests, in some
strong chamber of the castle.
Achilles now looked somewhat more interested.
"These particulars, pursued Paoli, "I learned during a
three months' residence in the castle. Finding time, notwith-
standing the caresses of pretty Annette, hang heavily on my
hands, and stumbling, by chance, upon the Marchesa's jewel-
case, one moonlight night, when I was struck with the beauty
of the rippling sea, I induced a Capraja lad, who was settling
his nets, to let me have an hour's pull outside the pier. We
were hailed by the look-out 5 for a strict watch is kept up, as
they are always dreading an attack from the Genoese. $he
lad answered, and we were soon out. It was blowing off the
island, and I was hoisting a sail, when the boy remonstrated;
but being very obstinate by nature, I overruled him. We
went too far to turn back ; and about noon next day I landed
upon a very pleasant, beach, in the Ligurian territory—made
the lad a present of a few dollars—for which he returned me
as many curses—and begged him to present my regards to the
Marchese, and express my regret that the solitude of his
island was too much for my nerves. It was not till next day
that I recollected I had forgotten to send back the Marchesa's
jewel-case.
 I have now said all I have to say, excepting one particular,
which is, perhaps, the most important. In one of my rambles,
by a singular accident, I discovered a passage from the island
to the sea. You know that Capraja is considered perfectly in*
accessible, in any part, excepting through the harbour, and in
face of the very formidable fortress that commands and blocks
the entrance into the interior. I could therefore conduct,
with the greatest ease and secrecy, any number of men into
the interior of the island. The Castle Damari stands more
than a mile from the town, which contains near three thousand
inhabitants, or, at least five hundred fighting men. How,
Signor Campaldino will let you know his scheme,- for, as usual,
you were asleep last night, when we first talked over this
business.
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHOfttTS.
135
During the time occupied by the Italian in relating the
above, Campaldino sat with his one eye fixed intently on the
blazing wood, wrapped in deep thought. As Montoni finished,
he turned to his companions, saying— ,
 I will briefly let you into my projects. A few days ago I
attended a meeting of officers before the Commander of Pera.
A Genoese carrick had run the gauntlet through the Yenetian
fleet, to convey important intelligence to our commander.
Aboard the carrick were several of our young Ligurian nobles.
Amongst them, one Philippo Baracco, I knew formerly in
Genoa. In the course of conversation, he mentioned, in speak-
ing of his own adventures, that, through the interest of his
cousin, the Count Durazzo, he had been appointed governor of
Capraja — for an expedition at that time was fitting out to
take possession of that island. When just ready for sea, the
outbreak against Yenice took place ; and, at the same time, a
dispute witJi France, which suddenly withdrew her entire force
from Corsica. The expedition was countermanded ; the men
were drafted into the galleys fitting out to proceed against
the Yenetian admiral ; and an additional force was dispatched
to Corsica ; for there is now every reason to dread an outbreak
there. ' So thus,' added young Baracco, laughing,£ ended my
governorship.' ' Are you aware,' I asked, £ that Giacinto Paoli,
son of Count Paoli, the most daring of the Corsican rebels, and
who slew my father, then general of our forces in Corsica, is, at
this moment, serving under the Venetian banner, and actually
in command of one of the finest galleys in the fleet at this
moment at anchor in the port of Byzantium 1' ' Yes,' returned
Baracco, ' I knew he commanded a fine galley, and devilish
good reason I had to know it. He is a gallant, high-spirited,
and generous fellow, let him be ever so great a rebel; though
why he should be styled a rebel for defending his native land
I cannot imagine.'
 Seeing me look astonished, he continued—£ When I lost my
intended governorship, I embarked with my cousin, the Count
Durazzo, to join Doria in chasing some Venetian carricks and
galleys in the Archipelago. We were attacked by Paoli, in his
vessel, the £ Lion,' and, after an obstinate fight—for, to tell the
truth, we were double her size, and full of men (but, unfortu-
nately, disaffected ones)—and being captured, he, by a very
simple ruse, enticed our prizes, who were lying in port, to put
to sea. He captured them also ; and, finally, put us all to
ransom. With singular generosity, after all his sufferings from
our republic, he left the Count Durazzo to fix the amount of
ransom. He then landed us. My cousin had promised me,
when I came out, that I should have the command of the Tower
136
THE SUNNY "SOUTH ; OH,
of Galata, of course without knowing it was in your hands.
You would, doubtless, have received a* higher appointment.
c Which I must beg leave to doubt very much,' I replied,
laughing. £I have neither high birth nor interest to push
me on. But I will tell you what I will do, Baracco. You said,
even when appointed governor of an island not then conquered,
you felt no great fancy to being shut up in a place some fifteen
miles in circumference. Now, ask me no questions, but say, if
I give up to you the command of this tower and fort, will you
use your great interest with your cousin, the Count Durazzo,
should I succeed in gaining possession of that said island of
Capraja, and get me appointed governor 1' ' By the Pope',
replied he, 'I will do more. I will hand over to you my
letters-patent, which I still hold. The power is mine to transfer
them, and was purposely given me at my own request. All
we have to do is to alter the name ; and, besides, I may venture
to say, you shall be backed and helped by all my cousin's
interest, the moment this contest ends. If favourable to
Genoa, on your return there, you will have hundreds of volun-
teers to aid you, provided the funds are forthcoming. As to
me, per Bacco, my ransom, easy as it was, has drained my ex-
chequer. One reason for. my wishing for a temporary com-
mand, till something better turns up here, is that, to say the
truth, I have the prospect, after two years, of having the
command of this colony.'
 I closed at once with Philippo Baracco ; and now all I
have to say is, that the moment this contest, with which we
shall, as guardians of this tower and fort, have nothing to do,
is over, I intend chartering a good craft for Genoa, put our
t spoils, etc., aboard ; and, when we reach that city, follow up
the plan you have heard. Should we even fail in gaining pos-
session of the fortress by surprise, we are certain of sacking the
Castle of Damari, and of gaining possession of the crusaders'
treasures. Afterwards, there will be a fair field for adventures
in Corsica for I know enough of the islanders to be able to say
positively, they will break out into open rebellion the moment
the French gendarmerie are withdrawn from the island.
 By the mass, I rather like your scheme, said Furiani.  I
feel satisfied the fortress of Capraja would prove a much more
agreeable residence than this. Besides, the climate here is
only fit for a salamander. Were it not for my system of damp-
ing my interior with the juice of the grape, I should have been
scorched to a cinder ere this.
 It will be better, observed Montoni,  to purchase a fast-
sailing caravel, which will cost less in the end, and look more
respectable on our reaching Genoa. Besides, we may do a
the battle ox the bosphorus.
137
little business on the voyage. The Archipelago will be swarm-
ing with crafts, now that the two rival fleets are in the Pro-
pontis. I can find twenty first-rate hands.
 But what do you intend to do with your wife—eh, Paulo 1
suddenly interrupted Achilles.  Shall you bring her with us 1
 No, by the mass, no, replied the Italian.  Our union was
one of convenience. In fact, she belongs to the gang : that is,
she becomes the wife of the leader, whoever he may be. And I
may as well say it now, she has, by this time, absconded with
my black friend, whom she was going to marry. I believe my
broken nose hastened the catastrophe. They are gone, I
believe, to Gallipoli.
 If we could only get this Paoli with us, observed Cam-
paldino,  the reward offered for his capture by the Genoese
Government would fit out our expedition to Capraja.
 Well, we shall see, said Montoni.  Perhaps, during this
approaching battle, something may turn up to throw him into
our hands.
CHAPTER XXIII.
the battle.
All now became bustling anxiety throughout Byzantium.
Doria and his fleet had entered the sea of Marmora, passed
close to the coast on which stood the stronghold of the Grecian
empire, and then steering for the opposite shore, the fleet was
drawn up in order of battle.
Admiral Pisani hoisted the signal, that, in four hours, he
would weigh anchor, and engage the enemy.
After buckling on his armour, Paoli hastened to take leave
of his betrothed and her father. Agnes received her lover with
much agitation, and, despite every effort of her mind, with
tears.
 Why weep, dearest 1 exclaimed the knight, as he pressed
the fair hand he held to his lips.  A soldier's bride must
summon her courage ; and the trumpet's blast should raise
smiles, not tears.
 Ah, Giacinto, replied the maiden—looking with fond ad-
miration, and yet dread, upon the noble figure of her betrothed
—"to man the trumpet's blast only raises the spirit and
quickens the blood ; but to the mother, the wife, the lover, it
drives back the chilled blood to the heart. No, dearest, you
cannot feel like our timid sex. In the midst of horrid strife
there is no room for reflection. But we, in the agony of sus-
pense, in the solitude of our chambers, with our thoughts
138
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
fixed on those we love—our imaginations, sleeping or waking,
excited by a thousand fearful fancies 
The utterance of Agnes here failed her : she could not finish
what her heart prompted her to say ; but leaning her fair face
on the mailed breast of her lover, she gave way to tears.
Paoli soothed in a measure the grief of Agnes, who was ren-
dered more apprehensive than she otherwise would have been
by the late attempt upon her lover's life.
 To-morrow, dearest, said Giacinto,  will end this strife.
Who will be the victor can be known only to the Almighty.
That the banner of St. Mark may float triumphant is my
earnest prayer. We certainly outnumber the enemy.
"Ah, yes, interrupted Agnes ;  but Pisani said the vessels
of Genoa are double your size.
 The more glory in beating them, my beloved, said Paoli,
with a smile and a kiss, which brought back the rich colour to
the pale cheek of the maiden.
They parted as fond lovers part-—the knight to his galley—
the maiden, with a beating heart, to the solitude of her cham-
ber. She cast one look from the window, out upon the then
troubled waters of the Propontis. Dark masses of wintry
clouds hung over the Asiatic shore of the Bosphorus ; and
fierce and sudden gusts of wind swept over the city, with a
moaning and threatening sound.
In the arsenal, Giacinto found the Signor Alviano, Pisani,
and many of the Yenetian residents. Paoli's galley was
warping out, followed by those of Pisani and the Count de
Loridani.
"Well, my son, said the Signor Alviano, striving to look
cheerful:  you are about to try the issue. May God grant
the banner of St. Mark the victory ! But this is fearful wea-
ther. There is every appearance of a fierce tempest brooding
over the sea. The wind howls most dismally.
"A good stiff breeze, my dear sir, is very desirable, returned
Paoli. Our vessels are much more manageable then than in
calms. Those Greeks handle their crafts but indifferently;
and, per Bacco, with seeming hesitation.
 Never trust the Greeks, except when you have the advan-
tage on your side, whispered the merchant, as he affectionately
embraced the Corsican, when he stepped from the galley on the
quay.
As the galley weighed and ran out of harbour, they formed
into a line with the admiral's galley, from which waved the
gorgeous banner of St. Mark. It was a spirit-stirring, ani-
mating scene. The day was cold and inclement. At intervals
fierce gusts of wind swept over the narrow sea, and vast and
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORtTS. ' ^39
threatening masses of lurid clouds passed on at times, allowing
the wintry sun to shine for a brief period. Its rays then fell
upon the countless multitude that lined the shore, the ramparts,
and bastions of Byzantium. The decks of the galleys were
crowded with mailed knights, whose shields hung along the
sides of the vessels, and, when the sun shone upon them, resem-
bled a solid defence of sparkling steel.
In the far distance could be seen the ships of Doria, breast-
ing the wild waves of the straits ; at times hidden in the de-
scending shower ; then, as the vapours passed away, becoming
distinctly visible. The decks of the Genoese men-of-war also
appeared as one mass of steel-clad figures.
Notwithstanding the efforts of Pisani, it was near sunset
before the fleets engaged ; and, at that period, the gale had in-
creased to a hurricane. In the gloom, then, of a heavy tern-
pest, commenced the strife. Perfectly acquainted with the
navigation of the Bosphorus, and having pilots who were aware
of the currents and shoals that abound on the Asiatic side,
Doria gave the signal to his fleet to run in amid the rocks and
shoals of that dangerous shore.
The gallant admiral of the Catalans, Ponsio De Santa Paz,
followed without hesitation ; as also did Paoli, Pisani, and
Loridani, all whose pilots were well acquainted with the
channels. The Catalans, ignorant of the dangers, fought
desperately, but in vain. Ten of their best galleys perished
on the sunken rocks.
Notwithstanding the fearful storm, that gained ground as
the night came on, galley grappled with'galley with bitter
animosity ; while the agitated waters beat with frightful roar
over the sunken rocks that were scattered around. As the day
closed, the Grecian galleys fled ; still the battle raged. Paoli
had daringly followed Santa Paz, and fixed himself to a galley
of superior size, full of armed knights. Pisani passed him with
a loud cheer from- his crew, as he made fast to another. The
war-cry of Paoli was answered by the crew of the Genoese
galley, who shouted their commander's name, Grimaldi.
The strife commenced, while the galleys were carefully
handled by their pilots, to keep them off the sunken rocks.
Fierce and bloody was the contest; for night shed its dismal
veil over the combatants. Still the battle-axe of Paoli swept
the deck of the Genoese with terrible might. His crew had
been reinforced before he left Byzantium by many volunteer
knights and V enetians, who were excited by the example of the
Corsican.
At length the- decks of the Genoese galley were gained, and
Grimaldi himself was taken prisoner by Paoli, who spared his
140
ME SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
life! Grimaldi then surrendered his galley, and retired from
the struggle, while Paoli, during the remainder of that awful
night, fought with the same gallantry and extreme good
fortune. He rescued from destruction the galley ol Santa Paz,
after striking on a sunken rock, and towed the vessel into safe
water. Two other galleys fell into his hands ; and, when
morning broke, Pisani gave the signal to his galleys to regain
the pore of Byzantium. But few survived the horrors of that
night to obey the signal.
Historians of that time describe this battle, fought in dark-
ness during an awful tempest, and rendered memorable on
account of the incredible bitterness and fierceness of the
combatants, as the most sanguinary contest of that century.
The galley of Pisani, dismasted and shattered, was taken in
tow by Paoli and the Count Loridani. The younger Pisani
had, alas ! perished with his galley and his gallant crew upon
the sunken rocks of that fatal shore.
As the sun rose, gloomy and lowering, over the fatal scene
of the last night's contest, the prospect presented a sad
picture to contrast with the glorious spectacle of the preceding
evening.
The sea was covered with spars, masts, boats, and half-
drowned wretches, clinging with fearful tenacity to pieces of
wreck. The Asiatic shore was strewn with corpses and
stranded galleys. As the day increased, each party could
more easily discover vestiges of its own loss than of triumph
over the enemy. Thirteen of the finest galleys of Genoa were
dashed to pieces on the rocks ; six were swept away down the
channel of the Bosphorus. Ten Catalans perished ; and four-
teen Venetian galleys had been captured or destroyed. Eighteen
hundred prisoners were taken by the Genoese ; and yet they
claimed but a very doubtful victory ; for, if historians are to
be believed, of their nobility alone seven hundred perished.
In fact, had not Pisani hoisted his signal to retreat, the battle
was a drawn one. Ponzio de Santa Paz, unable to survive his
defeat, died of a broken heart.
Paoli's galley had suffered much in killed and wounded.
He himself was severely injured, but still able to command.
His faithful squire was so desperately hurt by a fallen mast as
to be unable to leave his couch. Several knights of note had
fallen aboard the Lion. But the Corsican's share of glory was
great ; for he brought into the port of Byzantium the galley
of Grimaldi, and two others, as prizes, besides about thirty
prisoners of knightly rank.
Paoli felt greatly depressed at the fate of the gallant young
Pisani. The Count Loridani lost in that fatal fight his eldest
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
141
son and two nephews, scions of the noble house of Gontarini.
The Admiral Pisani was grieved in heart at the loss of his
nephew ; but the disgrace, as he conceived it, of his defeat,
overpowered every other feeling. Santa Paz refused consola-
tion, and never raised his head. Universal lamentation reigned
throughout the city ; for hundreds had to deplore the loss of
relatives who had perished either by the sword or by ship-
wreck.
The merchant Alviano received our hero with open arm
and thanksgivings at his safety ; for none of his wounds,
though severe, were dangerous. Still, much as he wished it,
and though his heart beat with anxiety to embrace his
betrothed, he was for a few days unable to leave his galley.
Admiral Pisani, knowing that as soon as Doria could collect
his scattered and damaged squadron he would invest the port
of Byzantium, merely stayed to repair his shattered galley,
and then sailed with the remnant of his fleet for Negropont.
Paoli was just able to leave his couch, when he received the
admiral's orders to weigh anchor and proceed to Negropont;
but as it was his intention, the moment this battle was fought,
to quit the Venetian service, the command of his "galley was
committed to the care of an experienced officer, who sailed for
Venice with her and his two prizes, to be delivered over to the
Marchese Tiepolo.
The Gorsican spent most part of the night in writing to his
generous benefactor, the marchese, expressing his deep grati-
tude, and his reasons for quitting the Venetian service. He also
stated that the Signor Alviano held in his hands a [large sum
lodged to his account, as his proportion of the prizes he had
taken since his departure from Venice.
The Count Grimaldi paid a heavy ransom for himself,
and his officers, and r galley ; at the same time passing the
highest encomiums on Paoli's gallantry and generosity : say-
ing, moreover, that if ever he should be called into council
upon the cause and subjugation of Corsica, his voice should
always be in favour of Paoli's countrymen. The Signor
Alviano approved highly of the manner his intended son-in-law
acted.
The fourth day after the famous battle on the Bosphorus not
a Venetian barque remained within the harbour of Byzan-
tium.
Our hero's meeting with Agnes more than compensated for
all his perils. Again and again he pressed her to his heart,
and vowed that, except to serve his country, he would never
more draw sword for a foreign ruler.
Pulini was rapidly recovering. In the meantime, Doria and
142
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OK,
his fleet entered the port of Byzantium. Cantacuzenus was
forced to yield to the terms of the Genoese admiral. He was
induced to sign a separate treaty of peace with Genoa, stipu-
lating to close all his ports against the Venetians and Catalans ;
and further, that all Venetian merchants settled in Byzantium
should depart the Emperor's dominions within a certain time.
If, after that, they should be found within such dominions,
their property should undergo confiscation and their persons
imprisonment. A Genoese governor, with a strong force and
full powers, was appointed to hold Pera and Galata, and to
build new forts.
Satisfied with the terms he had gained and the glory he
had achieved, Admiral Doria returned to Genoa.
"You see, Giacinto, said the merchant Alviano, one morn-
ing after the departure of the Genoese admiral, "you see,
these Greeks are not to be trusted. Behold how they have left
us. It was extremely fortunate I was so far prepared before
the result of this treaty was made known. However, I have
nearly shipped all my stores and merchandize. Still we must
defer your nuptials till our arrival in Italy. In the present
state of this city it would be unwise. No dependence can
be placed on the Greeks. However, we have yet a few days.
 Can I do anything to expedite your movements 1 asked
Paoli, extremely anxious to leave Byzantium and hasten his
union with Agnes.
 By the by, you certainly can save me a day or two, re-
plied the merchant,  and that's something, as things are.
If you will take this document to my Greek partner that was,
the Signor Negreti, at Scutari, who is slightly indisposed, he
will sign it in your presence. Put your own name to it as an
attestation. It is our final settlement. You can be back by
sunset.
Paoli, with his constant ■ attendant, Pulini, proceeded at
once ; and, hiring a four-oared barge, pulled across for Scutari,
though it blew half a gale, with every prospect of increasing.
Still, as the strait is barely three miles across, our hero troubled
himself but little on the score of the wind.
Not so his fair betrothed ; for the gale rapidly increased into
a fierce storm, lashing the narrow waters of the Ppopontis into
sheets of foam. Agnes was walking with the SigDora Tolmeo,
on the terrace at the back of the mansion, which looked out
over the storm-tossed waters of the strait of Scutari.
 He will scarcely be able to cross to-night, said Agnes.
 What a dismal-looking sea ! I would rather he. would remain
at Scutari than risk the passage in a rowing barge.
 You may make yourself easy, carareturned the Signora
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHOETJS.
143
Tolmeo.  Depend on it, the Signor Paoli will cross, notwith-
standing this gale. Those rowing barges are the safest and best
on these narrow and squally seas. Besides, though not able
to cross direct in the face of the gale, he can still make a land-
ing below Pera, and cross the ferry over the Golden Horn.
Shortly after sunset the gale suddenly lulled, and a slight
fall of snow took place—a most unusual occurrence at Byzan-
tium. A dead calm followed. Still, when the merchant re-
turned home late, and entered the saloon, and found only the
two females, he exclaimed,—
-  Where is Paoli 1 Is it possible he is not returned 1
 My dear father, he has not come back, said Agnes, rather
anxiously.  And yet it has been quite calm these two hours.
The sea, you know, ceases instantly with the wind in the
straits.
 Humph !  uttered the merchant, without a shade of
anxiety in his manner,  our friend has probably staid for the
night with the Signor Negreti, and will return in the morning.
Why, child, you don't say you are uneasy 1 added he, seeing
a shade pass over the face of his'.daughter. "Why, crossing
to Scutari is no more than crossing a canal in Venice.
"Ah, father, rejoined Agnes, "remember how many a
stately galley perished in the late storm and fight, even in
these narrow waters.
"Pooh! ejaculated the merchant, laughing; "if people
will fight in storms and bump upon rocks and shoals, they must
be shipwrecked. But I will send down to the quay.
The barge had not returned.
Morning came, and still the knight was absent ; and Agnes
was in an agony of apprehension she knew not of what.
The merchant proceeded at once to the quay, and, to his
great astonishment, the first thing he saw was the identical
barge lying quietly at her moorings. Wondering why Paoli
delayed returning home, he called one of the crew who was
loitering on the pier, and demanded when he had come back.
 At break of day, signor, replied the man.,  We lay
the best part of the night in the bight below Pera, under the
old town.
 What, than, you crossed yesterday in the gale, and the
Signor Paoli Irad to stay all night in the barge 1 
 All night !  echoed the man, with a look of surprise ;
 no, surely, signor. The Signor Paoli persisted in crossing in
the face of the storm. We had a perilous passage ; but we
landed the signor and his squire under the town early in the
evening ; and he immediately started to walk back, crossing
by the ferry over the Horn.
144
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OK,
Alviano looked amazed. The Greek boatman perceived that
something wrong had occurred. The merchant gave the man
a handful of coin, saying,—
 Sign or Paoli, strange to say, has not returned. Man your
boat, and proceed to the spot where you landed the signor, and
make every inquiry and spare no labour. You shall be well
rewarded.
With a foreboding of evil and a heavy heart, the Signor
Alviano returned to his mansion. Vainly he strove to conjee-
ture what could have occurred to two strong men, passing
through a thickly populated neighbourhood and in broad
day.
Agnes met her father at the door of the saloon. His coun-
tenance betrayed his anxiety, notwithstanding his efforts to
conceal it. Throwing herself on the sofa, the maiden burst into
a flood of tears. In vain her kind friend and her father strove
to console her, and to prove to her the folly of giving way
to such grief, when no just cause as yet existed to call it
forth.
 It may be weak—perhaps unmaidenly, said the gentle
girl, in a desponding tone ;  but, with only an affectionate
father and a kind friend to witness my sorrow, I have not
power of mind to struggle against this cruel blow to my peace.
Something fatal has happened, my heart tells me so. 1 Never,'
said Giacinto, the other day, ' never, Agnes, I promise you, if
the power is left me, will I sleep, while in this land, from under
the same roof which shelters you.' 
And bendiDg her head upon the bosom of the signora, she
wept silently but sadly.
As the day wore on, the merchant, seriously alarmed, or-
dered his horse, and, with two attendants, set out for the place
where Paoli had been landed, a distance of scarcely two
leagues. He easily succeeded in tracing Paoli and his squire
from the landing-place to the Genoese settlement of Pera. At
the gate leading to Byzantium he also gained correct informa-
tion ; for the warder remembered perfectly well the knight
and his squire passing through, and enquiring of him the
shortest road to the ferry. He recommended the upper. He
could not be mistaken, for the stately figure the Corsican
was remarkable.
More and more astonished, the merchant proceeded to the
ferry. There he was baffled. No such persons had passed
either that day or the day before.
It was night before Alviano returned home, without having
gained the slightest clue to the disappearance of Paoli and
his squire after their passing the gate of Pera. No hostilities
THE BATTliE ON THE BOSPHORUS. 145
then existed between the Greeks, Venetians, or Genoese ; for
the truce was strictly adhered to, and he could only conjecture
that Pao^i must have fallen into the power of some secret
enemy ; but who that enemy was he had no earthly means of
discovering.
CHAPTER XXIV.
the return to venice.
Our fair readers can easily imagine the grief and distraction
of a young fond heart, with its hopes crushed in the bud.
Paoli was the maiden's first love. Reasoners upon, human
passions may say what they please with respect to first love ;
but in our simple thoughts no second love is one half so pure
and holy, so totally free from all worldly feelings, as the first
love of a maiden's heart.
Day after day passed in hopeless search. Vain were the
princely rewards offered by the distracted merchant. No trace
of Paoli or his squire could be gained that could tend to
unravel the mystery of their disappearance.
The Signor Alviano had sufficient interest with the Greek
Government to cause a strict inquiry to be made in Pera, from
the Governor there. The reply was that the truce agreed
upon had remained inviolate, and no such persons as Paoli
and his squire had been molested by his orders. Alviano
was stupified at the blow this inflicted on his daughter's
peace. He beheld with anguish the fading cheek of his
child, and bitterly deplored the fatal cause of all this
sorrow, brought on by his sending Paoli to Scutari. He
had fondly pictured to himself the decline of his life, blessed
and soothed by the love and affection of his daughter and
children. There was another and a secret spring acting on
the heart of the merchant. From the very first he had re-
garded the love Paoli had for his daughter with the greater
delight and satisfaction inasmuch as it promised to realise
the dream of many a long year : and now, all was wrecked !
 For what have I now toiled ? soliloquised Alviano, in#
the solitude of his chamber. "For gold? Will gold restore
the bloom to the cheek of my child ? Will a gorgeous
palace, and a train of dependents, give her back the bright
hopes that are withered ? Never! I know too well the
heart of my child.
And yet Agnes Alviano strove nobly to hide from the
anxious eye of a doting father the sorrow that was nestling
in her heart of hearts. She met him with smiles—alas!
K
146
THE STONY SOUTH; OB,
only the ghosts of the smiles of old. She talked with him
of Venice; said she still felt satisfied that her lover would
jet appear; that some mysterious enemy had him in his
toils, through which, with the aid of Providence, he Would yet
break. At times, indeed, Agnes would endeavour to think as
she spoke ; and in the sanguine expectations of the Signora
Tolmeo, she endeavoured to believe.
Time had meanwhile moved on ; the Signor Alviano could
no longer delay embarking for Venice. Money and letters
were left with a Greek merchant, in case Paoli should appear
after their departure.
At length, with heavy hearts and broken spirits, the
merchant and his daughter, with the Signora Tolmeo,
embarked in a noble galley, chartered to convey them to
the city of the waves.
It was a bright morning in the month of March that the
merchant and his family sailed from the Grecian capital. As
the vessel glided with a favourable breeze from the shore, the
sun's rays fell dazzlingly upon tower and fort, cupola, and
palace. The line of beautifully diversified coast that runs
along both sides of those narrow seas—the numerous towers
and strong forts covering the hill tops—the Propontis covered
with picturesque barks, that then, as well es now, frequented
these confined waters, all presented so beautiful and un-
equalled a sight that even Agnes, who gazed from the deck of
the galley upon a prospect she was never again to behold,
could not but express her admiration, though tears filled her
eyes as she did so ; for her imagination pictured her lover
pining somewhere in dreary captivity in the land she was
leaving for ever.
At length, after a tedious and protracted passage, Alviano
beheld the towers and palaces of Venice rise from the bosom of
the sleepy lagunes.
 Twenty years, sighed the merchant, as he stood upon the
deck, with his daughter leaning on his arm,  have passed
since I left yonder city. I return, he mentally added,
 wealthy, but heart-strickcn. But my child will yet revive.
Providence can cure, as well as inflict the wound. Money can
purchase prayers. The merchant hesitated, for his mind was
somewhat of a higher tone than the superstition of the age.
Laying his hand on the arm of his thoughtful daughter, he
said, pointing to the yet distant, but yet distinctly visible
domes of Venice—
 Thirty and one years have elapsed, my beloved child, since
your father entered yonder city, an exile, unknowing and un-
known, with only a few scudi in his possession. But I had
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORTTS.
147
youth, and an enterprising and untiring disposition ; and
Fortune, till then most unkind, smiled upon me.
 And whence, beloved father, did you come 1 I have often
heard you say you were only an adopted son of the Yenetian
Republic. Whenever I teased you with questions your reply
was always playful, but left me still ignorant of the name of
the land that gave you birth.
 Because, light of my heart! you were as happy as the
fondest parent could wish his darling to be. My thoughts
were then centred upon Venice as my resting-place, but now
my dreams carry me further. Thy ancestors, my sweet child,
were Corsican, and of ancient and noble descent.
 Corsican !  echoed Agnes, with a start, and a look of
pleasure, while the rich colour came back so suddenly to her
cheek tha,t the heart of the father beat quicker with new-
raised hopes of returning health and spirits to his daughter.
 Even so, dearest. Cofsica is the land of our fathers ; and,
more than that, we are connected, by ties of blood, with the
noble house of Paoli.
Agnes clasped her hands.
 Were you told this by my —— 1 But she could not
bring out the name.
Her sire understood her well.
 No, no, my love. I did not derive this information from
him, but from Pulini, who recognised me, though years had.
gone by. Wait yet a little while,.and you shall hear all
of your father's eventful life ; and, trust me, I know not
why, but I feel at this moment like one inspired, devoutly
believing that Providence, which has hitherto protected and
smiled upon my exertions, will yet restore the lost Paoli to
you and to his country.
 Oh, father!  and the deeply expressive eyes of Agnes
were fixed upon his with such love and devotion that the
merchant pressed her to his heart with renewed hope.
On sailed the galley. The voyagers passed Chiozzi, rounded
the Lido, and, sweeping through the intricate channels (those
safeguards of Venice), finally anchored in front of the proud
arsenal of the Republic, over which was flauntingly dis-
tended the huge waving ensign of the Winged Lion of
St. Mark.
Could the merchant Alviano look now, after the lapse of
nearly five hundred years, into that same, and still vast
arsenal, which formerly could find work for -more than three
thousand men, and which contained more vessels of war within
its boundaries than all the other European Powers put to-
gether, how would he have been amazed to see only a few
148
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OH,
unfinished hulks, a solitary brigantine or two, the whole nary
of a power that once dictated to the Roman Empire !
And how did Agnes feel on breathing the atmosphere of her
native country? Once she had thought that Venice, with
its palaces, canals, the square and piazza of St. Mark,
thronged by gay and gallant cavaliers, in their sumptuous
costumes, was the work of enchantment, or a fairy scene.
But Agnes knew not then that the prisons of Venice were
too near her gayest palaces; she was ignorant that even
the thoughtless, restless inhabitants seemed to shrink at
times, as if some ill-omened spirit hovered over them, and
awed their turbulent spirits into gloom and fear.
What a revolution had taken place in the mind and
feelings of Alviano's daughter, as she swept up the grand
canal ! She beheld the same crowded rvaters, without
pleasure. The once loved square of San Marco caused her
to shudder. Her eyes rested on the ducal palace, and she
thought of Paoli, and of the decapitated Doge.
At length the gondola stopped before the portals of the
Palace Tiepolo, and in a very short time Agnes was clasped
with fond remembrance to the hearts of the Marchese's
daughters.
Paulina, as she looked fondly in her cousin's face, did
not at the first glance (for the delight of meeting her be-
loved cousins had recalled the colour to her cheek) per-
ceive the ravages made in that fair and lovely face by
sorrow—Paulina thought Agnes eminently beautiful; even
more so than she herself had ever imagined.
In some of her letters to Paulina, Agnes had spoken of her
intended nuptials with Paoli ; of her happiness, and the pros-
pect before her of rambling through Italy with the chosen of
her heart, till the sentence against Paoli should expire!
Paulina had, for an instant, felt sad, and an imperceptible sigh
escaped her lips. But envy or jealousy had no resting-place
in the heart of the Venetian maiden, who soon banished from
her thoughts all recollection of Paoli ; and when Agnes came
she was prepared to receive her with all the fond affection
to which their early companionship had given rise.
In the bosom of the kind' and noble family of Tiepolo,
Agnes, if she still pined in the secret solitude of her
chamber, bore up, before her fond father and her relations,
with apparent resignation.
The Marchese, to whom Paoli was as dear almost as
a son, heard, with astonishment and grief, of the mysterious
disappearance of the Corsican. At times he almost imagined
he had been secretly entrapped, by order of the Venetian
the battle on the bosphollus. 140
government; for, strange to say,"notwithstanding his gallant
exploits during the war, and the honest encomiums bestowed
upon him by Admiral Pisani, in his despatches, and all the
interest exerted for him by the Marchese, and other nobles
of "Venice, it was impossible to procure the revocation of
his sentence.
Count Steno and his eontessa had returned to Venice a
few days before the arrival of Agnes and her father. Steno
was distressed on hearing of Paolo's disappearance, but
when the Marchese Tiepolo hinted at the possibility of his
having been seized, by order of the Venetian government,
for some secret reason of state, Count Steno declared it was
utterly impossible. He allowed that Paoli had one enemy
among the ten rulers of Venice, though from what cause
he could not imagine ; neither could he learn the name of
that enemy. He also had been baffled in his attempts to
procure a remission of Paoli's sentence.
CHAPTER XXV.
one op the ten bttleks.
We must now request our readers to follow us from the man-
sion of the Marchese Tiepolo, into another palace in Venice
a few days after the arrival of the Signor Alviano. The saloon
into which we conduct our readers was the grand reception
room of one of the noblest edifices in Venice, belonging to Count
Luigi Passarini, lord of Cerego, and one of the Council of Ten.
It was night, and the saloon was brilliantly lighted. The
furniture, according to the times and the luxury and wealth
of the Venetian nobles, was magnificent. Costly and rare mir-
rors—known only in Venice, where they were just then invented
and manufactured—in frames, stupendous from the massive
carving and gilding—velvet hangings wrought in gold—silk
and satin in profusion—pictures by famous artists—in fact, all
that taste could plan and wealth attain, was lavishly bestowed
upon the decoration of that saloon and the four adjoining ones.
Through these supurb chambers, on the night in question,
moved all the rank and fashion of Venice. Music, dancing,
and, above all, gambling, occupied the attention of the guests.
In Venice, at this period, the spirit of gambling existed in
greater force than in any other city in Europe. Enormous
sums were staked, won, and lost nightly, in the saloons of the
Venetian nobility. Males and females equally indulged in that
fatal and fascinating passion.
In the first and most gorgeous apartment, the chief occupa-
150
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OB,
tion of the guests was conversation. Some reposed on Ottomans!
in groups, others stood in pairs ; hut all were occupied. Two
signors stood somewhat apart from the rest in earnest conver-
sation. One of them was our old acquaintance, Count Michaello
Steno ; the other was the owner of the mansion, who was most
elaborately and sumptuously dressed. In years, he appeared
to be about fifty-seven. He was of the middle height, but no
way remarkable in figure. At a single glance his features
would be pronounced good, but a second look would convince
the beholder that their expression .was repulsive. Even in the
midst of the many cringing parasites that surrounded him,
there rested upon his features an air of scorn and pride. A
restless expression also, at times, sat upon his countenance, as
if his mind and thoughts were far from the scene before
him.
 You seem extremely anxious, Steno, remarked Count
Luigi,  about this Corsican exile; but I can positively assure
you we have nothing whatever to do with his disappearance.
Is it not much more likely that he has been entrapped into the
power of Genoa 1 Their rulers would willingly pay a large
sum for his person. But you were saying he was about to be
united to the daughter of one of our wealthiest merchants, the
Signor 
Passarini hesitated ; and had Count Steno raised his head at
that moment, he would have perceived a strange expression on
the Venetian's countenance.
"The Signor Alviano's daughter, interposed Steno ; "yes,
it was a 'sad fatality, in sooth, a cruel blow to one so young
and fair,
A gleam of satisfaction stole across the features of Count
Luigi; but he immediately replied—
 By St. Mark, Steno, you seem to think a girl's heart, once
bestowed, is not to be recovered. But let her mingle among
our young and gay cavaliers, and I will bet you her weight in
silver she finds another heart to give away.
 I am no gambler, ount, responded Steno, somewhat coldly,
 or I would double the bet with you. Agnes Alviano is 
 Save yourself a long and moral piece of eloquence upon
this peerless maiden, interrupted Passarini, with a sarcastic
laugh,  for I hear she is beautiful. And tell me, has not hex
father purchased the palace of Count Nicolo Pisani, who so
unfortunately perished in the East 1
"He has, and moved into'it yesterday.
 The Signor Alviano ! how looks he after twenty years speni
under the burning sun of Byzantium ? Bears he his years
well, eh ? 
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
151
Steno was looking at the councillor as he asked the latter
question ; and he somehow thought there was a strange expres-
sion in the keen eyes of the questioner.
"I believe, said Steno, not answering the question put,
 you were never acquainted with the Signor Alviano.
 No ; I never had the pleasure of meeting the Signor
Alviano, returned Count Luigi, speaking slowly and delibe-
rately. He had sailed for the East before my return to Yenice.
But, count, continued Passarini, "there is one thing I par-
ticularly wish to say to you, as I may not again to-night have
the opportunity. You must use your influence with the Signor
Alviano. You are aware of our system.
The councillor here spoke in a whisper.
 I shall send a secretary to the signor, who requires one in
winding up his mercantile affairs. He shall be a person fully
competent. Persuade the merchant to install him in that
office ; otherwise, you know, we must establish a person in his
household of a more objectionable character.
 Who is the man you speak of, count ? demanded Steno,
after a moment's pause.
 A very quiet, sensible, elderly man, carelessly returned
the Venetian.  He served me several years ago ; and I had
no fault to find with him. I do not think you ever saw him.
His name is Tomaso Moncenego.
 Very well, returned Steno, tutning away.  But, verily,
and he muttered the last words between his teeth,  ours is a
monstrous system. I begin, since my marriage, to lose all my
ambitious speculations.
And Steno turned away.
Count Luigi Passarini stood looking after Count Steno, with
a look of singular meaning.
 Ours is a monstrous system, eh 1 he repeated to himself.
 Benissimo /
With a bitter and suppressed laugh, he strolled into one of
the gambling saloons ; and there, in less than an hour, threw
aw&y a sum that would have made ten miserable families
happy for many a long day.
Time rolls on, whether spent in pleasure or in pain ; and
gay and happy as the guests in the Palace Passarini appeared
to be, at a late hour of the night, or rather morning, not a
soul, save the count himself, remained within those splendid
saloons.
The councillor stood with folded arms, gazing steadily into
a magnificent mirror, which reached from floor to ceiling. The
brilliant lights reflected his figure and features in strong
relief. He looked keenly, and even anxiously, at his own
152
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
reflection ; he seemed to scan every feature, and his cold grey
eyes, after a time, threw out a momentary gleam of satisfaction,
as he muttered to himself—
 Yes, I am changed. Thirty years have done their work;
ay, much more than their allotted work. I am an old man to
look at; hut here, and he placed his hand upon his heart, "I
am young. The fire is here, still burning as fierce as if thirty
years were only as yesterday. The hour so patiently waited
for is come at last.
Touching a silver bell, a domestic entered.
 Tell Tomaso Moncenego to come hither.
In a few moments the door opened, as if stealthily, and a
man habited in black entered with the noiseless step of a well-
bred cat, and with something of the manner of that cringing
animal.
 Close the door,'' said the count.
It was done.
 Now stand up and let me have a clear view of you, Mussato
—or rather, for I forget myself—Tomaso Moncenego.
The man obeyed. He was a tall, meagre figure, though not
without an appearance of great muscular power. He had a
cold and passionless face, with dull, leaden-coloured eyes. It
might seem that his countenance could be little altered by
expression ; yet that was far from,the case.
 Stand a little more from under that shining light, Tomaso.
Let me see if the thirty years gone by have altered you, so
that even the mother that gave thee birth should doubt thy
identity.
And the count scanned earnestly the features and figure of
the man who stood before him like a statue.
 Yes, you will do, said the Venetian. "The fire of that
eye is gone—quenched. Ha ! continued the count,  who could
have imagined that cold, leaded eye could answer me so well 1
Hatred and revenge are still, I see, to be read in their glance.
So much the better—so much the better. I wronged you,
Mussato. Prosperity and twenty years of repose have not
extinguished that which should never cease to burn with a
devouring flame.
 My lord, I have that here, and the stranger laid his hand
upon his left shoulder,  which hourly reminds me of an oath
never to be forgotten. Now is the time. Are your plans
matured, my lord 1 Or shall this  and his hand rested
on the handle of a poniard.
 Cospetto, man, that would be poor vengeance, after the
lapse of so many years. If loss of life could have satisfied my
burning thirst for revenge, my never dying hatred, twenty
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
153
years ago Bartholomeo Alviano would have been food for worms.
No, no, no ! Listen to ine now, Mussato, and attend well to
my instructions. Bartholomeo Alviano can never recognise,
in the Count Luigi Passarini, lord of the rich land of Cerego,
member of the Council of Ten : eh, Mussato, does that name
make even you start 1 In truth, it is a mighty power; it
crushes the innocent as well as the guilty ; the prince no less
than the beggar. A modern Colossus, more mighty and
destructive than the iron sceptre of a Nero or a Caligula. But
I was saying, I fear not to be recognized. Even should we
meet, he could never expect to see in me, the condemned, the
outlawed, the fugitive.
The count paused ; his face flushed, and his whole manner
was excited by his thoughts.
"Why, he continued, after striding across the saloon, and
again stopping and fixing his gaze upon the unmoved counte-
nance of his spy,  why does my memory thus for ever conjure
up the scenes of long past years 1 Power, wealth, dominion,
all are mine; yet all these cannot drive from my mind the
cursed remembrance of the past, which haunts me, sleeping
or waking. Give me a goblet of wine, Mussato.
The count threw himself into a chair, swallowed the wine,
and, after a moment, spoke in a much less excited tone.
 Our victim, resumed he,  is at length within our power,
after long years of patient waiting. All I ever feared was
that death might remove him from my grasp. But no : he is
here, in Yenice, full of health ; possessing immense wealth,
proud of a beauteous daughter, for whose hand half our young
nobility already eagerly offer themselves. He lent large
sums, too, to replenish our exhausted coffers ; and we propose
to ennoble this unknown outcast, for [no one can discover
whence he came. Baron Alviano ! ha ! ha ! ha !  laughed the
Venetian,  an empty title, and a cheap return for his ostenta-
tious liberality. Now, Mussato, what think you ? Would it
not be a glorious revenge to strip him of his wealth, to rob
him of his daughter, to banish him, as a condemned outlaw,
from the territories of Yenice for ever ; and then to whisper
in the ears of this heart-stricken old man—penniless, childless,
disgraced, stigmatised—'Andrea Passarini has thus repaid
himself for the past 1'
 Yes, my lord, answered the spy, seeing the count pause ;
 that would be a revenge worthy of your excellency. But I
claim the person of the merchant Alviano when banished from
Venice. My account is to be balanced yet.
Again the eye of the villain changed the entire expression
154
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
of his apparently inanimate features; for it actually glis-
tened like the eye of the rattlesnake.
 Do as thou wilt, Mussato. He is thine when I am satis-
fied. Now, then, for the part you have to play at this mo-
ment. Alviano is at present in his own mansion. Take this
letter ; and, the day after to-morrow, present yourself at the
palace Pisani, or rather Alviano—for he has purchased it—
when you will be appointed his secretary. I know your skill
in counterfeiting any writing. That is one of the levers I
intend to use. Let me see you once in every twenty-four
hours, no matter what hour of the night. But it must be at
night. This key, you know, admits you to the private stair-
case, leading to my sleeping chamber. Knock twice ; and I
will admit you. Remember, only in the last hours of the
night. Circumstances unlooked for have already favoured
me. The disappearance of this Corsican Paoli, who was
banished Yenice, has given me a most powerful engine to
work with. Have your eyes constantly about you; let
nothing escape you that passes within the boundaries of
Alviano's mansion. I have said enough for the present. You
may therefore retire. When installed as secretary let me
see you.
Mussato bowed ; and, without a word, left the saloon. The
count summoned his attendants; the lights were extin-
guislied, and the count retired to his chamber.
Not, surely, to sleep; but with the thoughts of a fiend
raging in his- heart's core.
CHAPTER XXVI.
THE CAPTURE.
How frequently, when we think ourselves on the point of
obtaining the object of our dearest wishes, suddenly, by some
unforeseen event, the object is lost, and the heart is crushed
by the overwhelming calamities that follow. Vain, indeed,
are all our resolutions when opposed to the decrees, not of
destiny, but of One who alone knows why or wherefore we are
thus crushed, when believing ourselves most sure of felicity.
So it was with Giacinto Paoli, who, with a light and happy
heart, his thoughts full of the felicity before him, entered the
light barge with six active oarsmen, to proceed to Scutari and
execute the commission of the Signor Alviano. It is scarcely
three miles to Scutari beyond the point from which he started,
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSBHORTTS. 155
The day was cold, bleak, and wintry ; and the scud flew along
the opposite line of coast with great velocity, while a biting
wind howled over the narrow waters of the Bosphorus.
Favoured by the breeze that blew off the shores of Byzan-
tium, the barge, in much less than an hour, touched the beach
p,t Scutari; and the Corsican proceeded at once to the house
of the Signor Negreti, leaving Pulini to amuse himself with
strolling through the place. Two hours finished all that Paoli
had to do with the Greek merchant. Notwithstanding the
pressing arguments of the latter to defer his return till the
next day—for the gale had increased to a tempest—Paoli
only smiled, saying,—
"'Tis but crossing a canal.
The Greek shook his head, and replied,—
 Nevertheless, the passage is a dangerous one in gales of
wind.
Shaking tbe merchant by the hand, Giacinto proceeded to
the pier, v/ iere he had, left the barge; and in the way he
met his s guire, who observed that it blew a hurricane, and he
doubted the possibility of the men pulling against such a
head-wind.
 I have vowed, responded Paoli, "never to sleep under
any other roof than that which covers my betrothed, if
possible.
 St. Antony! we can but try, returned the stout-hearted
squire, cheerfully. "We can pull a better oar than any of
those rascally Greeks.
Since the flight of the Grecian galley, at the battle of the
Bosphorus, Pulini held the Greeks in sovereign contempt.
On reaching the mole the knight perceived that the wind
blew in downright earnest. The water was driven off the
surface like snowdrift ; and the short curling sea broke with
noisy violence against the strong mole of Scutari. It was
yet early in the day ; and Paoli, after casting a glance over
the troubled waters, 'and the equally troubled sky, saw that
to pull across was out of the question. But the barge was a
fine boat; and, ordering his men to step the masts and reef
the sails, the wind having veered a point or two up the
channel of the Bosphorus, he saw no great risk in making the
opposite shore, a league oar so below Pera. He could then
easily reach Byzantium before night by crossing the ferry
above Dolma Brachia.
It was not without evident reluctance that the Greek
sailors obeyed. Proverbially timid, then as well as now,
nothing but the known determination of the Corsican could
have induced them to dream of crossing the straits in such a
156
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; Oil,
gale. If anything will make a Greek incur a serious risk
'tis a bribe.
 Come, my men, said Paoli, taking the helm,  be alert,
and there is a well-filled purse to divide amongst you.
Gold, gold, what will it not do! The sails were close reefed ;
the sheets held steadily with one turn over the hook ; and,
rounding the mole, the light but buoyant boat breasted, with
some chance of success, the wild waves of the Thracian Bos-
phorus. A cheer broke from the hitherto silent lips of the
numerous Greeks that thronged the mole to witness, as they
firmly believed, the upsetting of the barge. But when the
boat, skilfully handled, threw the white crest of the waves
high over gunwale and mast, and steered a point or so off the
wind, gliding rapidly and safely from the shore, a shout of
approbation broke from the crowd.
On flew the barge, her masts and yards bending like reeds,
and the sea flying over them in one continued sheet, while the
astounded Greeks alternately called on their favourite saints
or implored the Corsican to turn back. Paoli had no time to
heed either their prayers or solicitations ; for, blinded by the
spray, it was as much as he could do to keep the masts and
sails from being torn out of the barge by the fierce and sudden
gusts.' The Corsican, however, succeeded in running the
boat into a snug inlet some three miles below Pera.
 By the mass, signor, exclaimed Pulini, as he leaped
ashore, and shook himself clear of as much water as possible,
 if this is a hot climate in summer it beats our own island
to nothing in'the cold of winter.
 A smart walk will set our blood in circulation, Pulini,
returned the knight, as he extricated his weighty sword from
a locker in which he had placed it to keep it from the wet.
The men anchored their boat, and said they would sleep
either in her or a village close at hand, and return to Byzan-
tium in the morning.
The knight and his squire having inquired and received
full instructions as to their path over the hill, from where
the remainder of their route would be distinctly visible, set
out at a rapid pace ; for their wet garments and the biting
wind gave an impetus to their movements. As they proceeded
across the hill, Paoli was struck by the beauty and richness of
the land, even as seen in the depth of winter, and on a
gloomy day.
'•'What a pity, signor, observed Pulini, "that this fine
country should belong to such a cowardly and effeminate race
as the Greeks.
 It is not at all unlikely, responded the Corsican,  but that
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
157
the land will change masters. The followers of the false
prophet are making gigantic strides towards this last strong-
hold of the Roman Empire.
"The saints forbid! signor, piously ejaculated Pulini, "that
these accursed revilers of the true faith should plant the
crescent where the blessed cross now stands!
 Amen !  seriously responded Paoli.  Petrarch, in his late
letter to the Doge of Venice, says—'Unite with Genoa ; and
with fire and sword root out the perfidious Greek, and the vile
heresy that creeps over that fair land.' But we may as well
attempt to make the lion embrace the lamb, as those two
greedy, perfidious republics unite for other purposes than the
thirst of gold.
A fast walk of an hour brought our two Corsicans to the
gates of Pera. The keen wind had dried their garments ;
and the rapid walk freely circulated their blood.
 It strikes me, signor, if we could have found a path over
yonder hill, it would have been better than passing through
this colony of our old enemies.
 I see no reason for any such precautions, replied our hero.
 There are several days yet, or rather weeks, to the expiration
of the allotted term. The Genoese, Catalans, and Venetians
mingle amicably in the bazaars and magazines of Byzantium
and Pera.
 Per Bacco, signor, we are neither Greek, Catalan, nor
Venetian.
 Who is to know that, Pulini 1  So saying, the knight
and his squire passed through the gate of Pera, and entered
that imposing and fast-increasing settlement of the Genoese.
All the public places of this busy colony were thronged with
traders from every port of the east and west then known.
Knights in full mail—groups of soldiers and men-at-arms,
intended for their settlements in the Black Sea — Greeks,
Armenians, Persians, in their native costume—crowded and
jostled through the streets and covered bazaars, which were
filled with costly merchandise of every kind, and frequented
by females, old and young, in their favourite head-dress (a
long white veil over the head, and parted in the front). Alto-
gether, though within an arrow's flight of Byzantium, the scene
presented in Pera was totally different from anything that
could meet the sight in the great city.
Traversing the great square, in which stood the strong
fortress of the Governor, Paoli passed a group of loiterers, of
whom some were in very handsome mail, and others richly
habited in the Spanish costume, then much imitated by the
Genoese. The powerful and striking figure of the Corsican
158
THE SUNJST SOUTH; Oil,
attracted tlieir attention ; and Puliui, full of suspicion, Watched
their motions as they looked eagerly after his master. Tins
squire even caught the words,  Commander of the Linn,
spoken aloud 1 >y one of the group, as if in reply to a question.
 We are recognised, signor, said Pulini, as he rapidly
followed his master.  I heard one of those Genoese in the
chain-armour say you were the commander of the ' Lion.'
 That's very possible, Pulini, returned our hero ;  but no
consequence can result from their recognising us. They would
now forfeit their honour by infringing the terms of the treaty.
 Forfeit their honour ! Cox-petto, signor, when had a Genoese
faith or honour to lose 1 What says the proverb ?—' Men
without faith—sea without fish—and women without shame.' 
Paoli laughed at the bitterness of his honest squire against
their old enemies, and quickened his steps to please him. On
reaching the gate on the side nearest Byzantium, Paoli de-
manded of the warder, who threw open the small wicket leading
out on the drawbridge, the nearest road to the ferry.
 Have you come through the town, signor 1 demanded the
warder ;  for if you have, you have increased your distance
from the ferry by more than a mile. There is another gate
which leads out in a direct line. However, you must take the
path round yonder fort, pointing to one about a quarter of a
mile distant on the side of a hill steep.  At the other side of
that fort is a gate, called the East Gate. When you passed
through the great square you might have reached that by a
path not five hundred yards long.
Thanking the warder, Paoli and his squire proceeded along
the path, which led through a small, but beautiful valley, now
termed Holma Boetia. Tradition states that through this
valley the Turks drew their vessels in one night into the
harbour of Byzantium, being unable to force the chain which
defended its entrance. Paoli and his squire soon passed across
the valley, and were ascending the hill to the fort, when
Pulini, looking back, descried a body of armed men proceeding
along the very path they had passed.
■ By all the saints, signor, we are pursued !  exclaimed the
squire, anxiously.  Let us pass on.
Paoli looked, and saw the men following, certainly ; but at
a very easy pace.
"They may only be proceeding to rmic of the forts, sug-
gested he ;  perhaps to this very one.
Our hero and Pulini were then beneath the walls of the
fort; the path turned sharp round it; and the moment! ho
knight and his squire did so they at once jcvcuived tlmv were
betrayed. A score of men-at-arms, with their le '\w in full
SHE BATTLE OST THE BOSPHORUS.
159
mail, Lis visor closer!, -were drawn directly across, and com-
pletely blocked rip the road.
 Curse on their faith and honour ! bitterly exclaimed
Pulini, drawing his sword.  Better, my lord, to die than rot
in their dungeons, or hang on their gibbets, as your noble sire
was doomed to do.
Paoli uttered not a word, but biting his lip with passion,
till the blood flowed, he drew his heavy steel cutlass, and,
advancing with a firm step, said, in a bold and fierce tone,—>
 For what reason, signor, is our path obstructed in a time
of peace, and in place of a proclaimed armistice 1
 I am a mere mercenary, signor, replied the commander of
the men-at-arms,  and am paid for obeying orders. My present
duty is to place you, Signor Paoli, a prisoner in this fort ; and
you surely are not so insane as to resist the force before you, and a
stronger one coming up behind you. Be wise, then, signor ; give
up your sword, and no insult or violence shall be offered you.
 It has never been the custom of a Paoli to surrender his
weapon to an enemy ; especially to a perfidious one. Take it,
if you can.
Boiling with rage, and perfectly reckless of life (for once in
the power of Genoa, he well knew if life should not at once be
forfeited, liberty was gone for ever), had Paoli and his squire
been cased in mail, many of the men-at-arms would have dearly
rued the strife. As it was, placing their backs against the high
wall of the fort, they defied every effort of the men to take
them. Their commander, desperately wounded by a blow from
the Corsican, lay senseless upon the bank; and so amazed at
the strength and skill of Paoli were the Italians—for the men
formed part of a troop of Condottieri from the Milanese in the
pay of Genoa—that they hung back, till a shout from the band
advancing up the hill roused them to greater exertion.
 Now then, my brave squire, exclaimed Paoli,  cut through
these dastards, and on for the ferry. Once in sight of any part
of Byzantium, these villains dare not infringe the treaty.
Again a man-at-arms was struck down mortally wounded—
another—and Paoli broke through the rank easily ; when a
voice from the walls of the fort above, exclaimed,—
 Stand back, men !—a quarry from a cross-bow will cool
that incarnate devil.
 Twang went the steel bow, and the ill-starred Corsican
staggered, for the bolt had lodged in his left side. His arm
fell, from the agony of the wound, and two of the men rushed
eagerly upon him. Rousing his last energies (for he thought
himself mortally wounded), with a grasp of iron he seized the
ill-fated Italian, and, lifting him from the ground, hurled him
160
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
over the steep precipice on one side of the path. But the next
instant he fell prostrate and senseless upon the sod.
With a wild cry of agony, Pulini cast himself beside his
beloved master. The men-at-arms, and those coming up the
hill, stood aghast as they beheld their comrade hurled over
the steep, and saw and heard his mailed body as it rolled
and clanked against the sharp rocks that formed the cliff.
The leader of the men had contrived to unclasp his helmet,
and sat upright, with blood-stained features, gazing, bewildered,
upon the scene of the late strife.
 Is the knight dead, Pietro 1  he demanded, in a weak, but
anxious voice.  'Fore God, he is the best man I ever yet saw
handle a sword. I bear him no malice, though, cospetto, he has
left an ugly mark on my skull, despite my Milan steel. Holy
Paul! had he been in knightly harness, and that stout squire
of his in good mail, we should have rued this day's iob. But
is he dead 1
 I wish he had died twenty years ago, replied one of the
men.  Curse him, he has slain outright my brother Nicol'o.
His squire there is handling him as gently as a nurse would a
bantling. What's to be done now ? 
In the meantime the men, with a leader whose armour
betokened higher rank than the other, and whose great height
and bulk caused him to ascend the steep path slowly and pain-
fully, reached the spot. The leader's visor was down ; and,
after puffing and blowing for a moment or so, he said, speaking
to the Milanese,—
 Why, how the devil is this, Master Matteo ? Here has been
some pretty fighting. Four of you looking as dead as pickled
tunney; some half-dozen of you examining your wounds; and
one gone exploring over the cliff, which he never will ascend
again. And, Santa Madonna ! worse than all, the Corsican is
dead, I fear.
He then approached the place where the distracted Pulini
was staunching the wound in the side of his master as well as
he could with the means at hand.
 Why, curse it, how is this !  angrily exclaimed the bulky
commander, who was no other than Achilles Furiani.  He has
been struck down by a bolt from a cross-bow. What dastard
did this ?
 I did it, exclaimed a tall, strong man, in the dress of a
crossbow-man.  I did it by order of one more my master than
you, Signor Furiani. He would have slain half those fellows,
he added,  ay, and escaped before you could have mounted
this hill; and the commander of Galata, who was beside me
on yonder wall, told me to shoot, if I shot him dead.
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
161
"Humph !  muttered Achilles, "like him—cursed cowardly
way of bringing down a brave man, fighting against fifteen of
you, and unarmed too. However, what's done can't be undone.
Pick him up, and carry him to the chamber intended for his
prison. Send for the leech. If he's dead, why there's no help
for it. If he lives, which I trust he will, though perhaps it is
only to be hung as a rebel in the end, I shall have done all I
can do, on the score of humanity, to a brave man. How,
added Achilles, speaking to himself,  let me see what Cam-
paldino says for his share in this transaction. *
In a chamber of the fort Furiani found Campaldino1 pacing
backward and forward in an agitated manner. *
 So he is dead! he exclaimed, as soon as he beheld
Achilles.
 He may, or he may not, returned the lieutenant;  the
surgeon will decide that. He is hit deuced hard ; and a cursed
shame it was to bring down a brave knight with a cross-bow,
like a mad dog.
 Why, what ails the man 1 exclaimed Campaldino, with a
scornful laugh.  Since when has your conscience pricked you
so hard 1 When Paoli was left to the mercy of Montoni's
dagger, you never troubled your head about how he was struck
down. And now, when on the very point of escaping, and after
actually slaying three or four of our men-at-arms, you want
to quarrel with me for bringing him down with an honest
bow-shot.
 Oh ! to the devil with such honest shots, say I. By the
mass, it's no joke, an ounce of iron sent into you at ten paces.
I never saw the man before, and therefore did not bestow a
thought upon him. But, corpo di mondo ! a finer looking
fellow cannot exist. Then, just to see him make play, without
defensive armour of any kind, against a whole score of men-at-
arms ; and, even when shot to death, take up that unlucky
devil, Spolato, and pitch him like a lobster over the cliff. 'Fore
God, it warms one's heart towards such a man.
A boisterous laugh of contempt was all the answer Cam-
paldino deigned to give.
"Well, you may laugh, Andrea ; but it won't alter the case
one way or another. Dead or alive, he now belongs to the
governor of Pera ; so I suppose all we shall pocket by the
transaction is the disgrace of not being able to take a knight
and his squire with a score of men-at-arms, without getting a
scurvy rascal of a bow-man to sboot bim.
 You are enough to drive one mad with your cursed non-
sense Furiani. What else was to be done 1 How else was he
to be' taken 1 When I saw him pass through the square, and
L
162
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
felt him, too, in the battle on the Bosphorus, I was forced to
let the governor know; claiming half the reward, however.
The governor, who has less scruple even than ourselves, was
intensely anxious to secure his person ; for, you must know, he
is the very man Paoli's father drove out of Corsica, and stripped
of all his hard-earned treasure, plundered from the Corsican
lords. I was told to take a score of men-at-arms, and go out
by the east gate, and cut him off before he could possibly be
seen by the Greeks on the opposite side ; so that the capture
might be kept secret. I told you to hurry after him with four
of our men, and secure him before he could reach the fort;
and then I would have told the governor he had crossed by a
boat from Galata. But you are so cursed slow in your move-
ments, that he reached the fort before you ; and the taking of
him being entrusted by the governor to that Italian mer-
cenary, I did not interfere till I saw that he actually would
have cut his way through the men. and got away. It was not
likely, then, that I would let the man that slew my father, and
struck my eye out, escape when a bowman stood at my
elbow.
 And what does the governor intend doing with him, sup-
posing he should live 'I 
 Send him by the next fleet that arrives to Genoa, where he
will linger out the residue of his days in a state prison. Why,
man! it was a most cursed chance our not capturing him
without the governor's knowledge. His value is doubled since
the late news from Genoa.
 Diavoli ! And what news is that ?  demanded Achilles.
 I had not time to inform you, returned Andrea Cam-
paldino ; "for the despatches only reached the governor a few
hours before the Corsican happened to pass through the square.
It appears by these despatches that Corsica has again re-
volted; and, singular to say, General Paoli, who, it was
believed, had been executed by my father, and for which
supposed deed he incurred the vengeance of the younger
Paoli—
Campaldino did not finish his sentence, for Furiani, who
stared with amazement at his comrade, exclaimed—
 What are you talking about 1 I can't understand these
plots and counter-plots. Who the devil is General Paoli 1 I
always understood your respectable and much regretted father,
when he got possession of Corte, hung a General Paoli, with
several other signors. And now you tell me—he's alive. Did
he hang General Paoli ?
"No! sulkily returned Campaldino, "he did not. Icon-
fess I thought at the time my father's policy was a crooked
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
163
one. He caused it to be understood that he executed General
Paoli and others; thinking to strike a terrible blow to the
rebels, and end the war, which it certainly did, and cost him
his life. The other signors were executed ; and one was
dressed, purposely, in the armour of the general. But, in
reality, the Corsican leader was sent secretly to Genoa and
confined in the state prison, to be used hereafter, if necessary,
to intimidate the Corsicans. But, lo and behold, when wanting,
it was discovered he had by some unaccountable means escaped.
Noiy, no doubt, he will contrive to make his way to Corsica;
and, in the present state of the republic, on the point of a
fresh war with Venice and a rupture with France, the Cor-
sicans will have the best of it.
 Well, by the immortal gods, Andrea, exclaimed Furiani,
"you have completely bewildered me ; especially as we are
talking without a flask of wine to make what you are saying
intelligible. All I can make out is that General Paoli was
dead, but is now alive ; was thought to be hung, and was not
hung ; that his son was alive an hour ago, but is now either
dead or likely to die; and that if he lives he is likely to be hung ;
and, if not hung, is likely to die in prison. Now, if that's not
what our leech calls a compound mixture, I do not know what is.
But let us go down to the old tower, and pass the remainder
of the evening brightening our ideas with Cyprus, and hearing
what that rascal, Montoni, says. He has bought the craft,
you say, and the sooner we get out of this place the better.
We have nothing further to do with the poor diavolo in the
chamber above ; as you passed him over to the governor. Pray
shall you finger any cash for betraying him into his power 1 '*
 He has promised me half the sum he gets on his reaching
Genoa, replied the commander of Galata.
"Ha! promised, muttered Achilles, "they are easily
managed, those promises, by the mass ! Had I lived all my
life on promises, by St. Antony, I should'nt have so goodly a
carcass to boast of now.
 If you had less carcass and more brains, amicoreturned
Campaldino,  we had entrapped that Corsican ourselves. You
took as much time to mount that cursed hill as would take
another man a league of ground.
"As if it was nothing, muttered Furiani, "for a man of
my bulk, cased in mail, after making a hearty dinner, and
finishing half-a-dozen goodly flasks, to mount a hill as perpen-
dicular, by Jove, as the ramparts of Pera! But here's your
man, Mcolo.
 How is the prisoner now 1 Is he dead demanded Cam-
paldino of the man who entered the room,
h 2
164
THE SUNNY SOUTn ; ok,
"No, signor, replied the man, "neither is he likely to
die. The leech, who has taken out the bolt, says he'll be
nothing the worse in a month's time. He's quite sensible now.
Matteo has got an ugly knock over the head. He says the
Corsican hits cursed hard ; for his Milan steel casque is sliced
like a gourd ; and as to the other men, it's frightful to look
at the way they're carved.
 Corpo di mondo !  ejaculated Furiani; u and yet you
wanted me to pursue him with the four men I had with
me, without waiting to go back to the tower for any
armour.
 It's no use talking now, interposed Campaldino.  Let
us go; I wish to see Montoni as soon as possible. Perhaps
his brain is more fertile. We might contrive to get him into
our power yet.
 To the devil with plots, say I, grumbled Achilles, as he
followed his commander.
• Leaving the fort, the two confederates took their way to the
tower of Galata.
CHAPTER XXVII.
retrospection.
We must now request our readers to pass with us over the
space of two years from the period of Paoli's captivity.
The time was near sunset ; and the spot to which we beg
our readers to follow us is Puelfo, a very insignificant village
on the borders of the Adriatic, and not more than a league
from Chiozzi : it was, however, without the Dogada.
Two travellers, well mounted, one a tall powerful individual,
in a plain but polished suit of mail—the other a stout, broad-
shouldered man of middle age, and habited in the armour of a
squire.
These travellers were no other than Giacinto Paoli and his
attendant, Pulini. The road to the village—if the stony
beach could be called a road—ran along the then smooth
waters of the Adriatic. . The hamlet itself possessed but one
venta of any kind, and that a remarkably poor one ; but the
place was selected by our hero for two reasons: first, it was
without the Dogada of Venice ; for Paoli's term of exile from
that republic still wanted four months of terminating; and
he by no means felt inclined to< trust that jealous republic,
even if it wanted but four days. The second reason why he
selected the village of Puelfo for a resting-place, after a very
long and hazardous journey, was that he could dispatch a
THE BATTLE OH THE BOSPHORTJS.
165
messenger from thence, who could go and return the same
day.
Having reached the door of the venta, he was assured by
the astonished padrone, who certainly had never been visited
by such guests before, that he could afford the horses the best
of shelter (whicli meant that they might sleep under the
shelter of a hedge in the one field he possessed), and that, as
to themselves, they had only to ask and to have. Paoli was
therefore installed in a small but very clean chamber, and
the repast provided for him was fish, and fish only. But our
hero and his squire were not men who troubled themselves
as to the splendour of their lodgings or the fare put before them.
Having satisfied a very good appetite with the spoils of the
sea under their windows, and washed it down with a bottle or
two of very passable wine, Paoli sent for the padrone de casa ;
and, on that individual making his appearance, he requested
him to procure an intelligent man, to send to Venice with
letters, on the earliest hour possible in the morning.
Pulini himself would have gone ; but for several reasons
they both thought it better to employ a stranger.
 You could not, signor, responded the padrone,  have
applied for a messenger at a more fortunate moment. My
son, Pietro, who is (though I ought not to praise my own flesh
and blood) as clever a youth as any within ten leagues of this 
(in which distance the worthy landlord took in the whole
Dogada).  He sails at sunrise to-morrow, signor, with a
cargo of fish to Venice, continued the host;  and, please the
blessed Saints, will be back before sunset, as he knows the
navigation of the lagunes and of the channel of Chiozzi. He
gets there and back in all weathers.
 That will answer exactly, returned our hero.  Send
your son to me ; he shall be well paid. Attention to my mes-
sages will give more profit than his cargo of fish.
Paoli was pleased with the appearance and manner of the
youth—a fine, hardy, open-featured young man. Giving him
a packet of letters prepared at the last town he had slept at,
and carefully inclosed in a strong leather case, he told him
that the packet was to be delivered at the mansion of the
Marchese Tiepolo. Paoli also gave Pietro a single letter to be
left at the mansion of Count Michaello Steno. In both cases
Pietro was to wait for an answer, even if he should be detained
till the following day. To these instructions our hero added
the gift of a handful of silver to pay expenses.
The youth, rejoiced at being employed by so handsome and
generous a signor, had not patience to wait the rising sun, but
put to sea with his two comrades an hour before dawn.
166
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
While Pietro Anino is making the best of his way through
the intricate channel of Ohiozzi, we will very briefly fill up the
gap left in our tale by the passing of two years.
The incidents which occurred to our hero during those two
years were of the most eventful kind, and his trials severe.
At the expiration of three months after his capture by order
of the Governor of Pera, he recovered from the dangerous
wound he had received ; but it was not till half a year had
been endured by him in hopeless captivity, that he was unex-
pectedly embarked in a war galley bound to Genoa, with a
large body of troops returning from a Genoese settlement in
the Black Sea. Violent and boisterous weather detained this
vessel two months in the Archipelago. Again, off the coast of
Sicily, a furious gale drove the voyagers out of their course;
and as the galley was finally dismasted and helpless, the
soldiers mutinied, broke open the stores, and in the confusion
which ensued the vessel was driven by the raging tempest upon
the most dangerous part of the coast of the island of Sardinia.
In the terror of their approaching destruction, Paoli and his
squire forced their way on deck scarcely half an hour before
the vessel struck on a reef about five hundred yards from the
main land. Both of them, being bold and powerful swimmers
from their childhood, cast off their upper garments and threw
themselves without hesitation into the boiling surf that raged
round the barque, every sea that swept ovpr her deck threatening
to dash her into countless pieces.
Maddened by wine and terror, scarcely a soul reached the
shore alive out of two hundred; but Paoli and his squire,
watching their opportunity, and exerting their utmost powers,
though severely bruised and cut, succeeded in landing on a
range of flat rock, and finally clambered out of reach of the
devouring waves that lashed and foamed over that iron-bound
coast.
After this most providential and unlooked-for escape from
bondage, Paoli and his companion made their way to Detrano,
the nearest town to that part of the coast where the galley was
wrecked. They were in a distressing dilemma, having neither
garments,- money, nor any article of value. But no sooner
were the inhabitants of Detrano aware that they were Corsicans
than they conducted them to the mansion of their pastor, who
received them with the greatest kindness, and on learning
the name of his guest redoubled his offers of assistance.  For,
said he,  you are not perhaps aware that your gallant coun-
trymen, under Counts Gaffieri, Sampiero, and other seigneurs
of name and station, are carrying on a vigorous war against
the Genoese ; and from the last reports I learn that they have
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
167
taken Bonifaccio, Ajaccio, and several other fortified places of
Bote.
Paoli was electrified, and Pulini half frantic with joy.
Ardently as our hero longed to proceed to Yenice to recover
his betrothed, his beloved country occupied his first thoughts,
and he embarked the very next day in a fishing boat. Passing
through the numerous islands that lie scattered amid the
narrow strait that divides the two islands, he reached Boni-
faccio in safety. The town was strongly garrisoned under the
command of an officer who knew Paoli well.
The intelligence of his return spread over the town and
adjacent country like wildfire. Hundreds that had before
hesitated flew to arms.  Paoli, the deliverer, is come !
shouted jthey. At the expiration of ten days from his arrival,
he left Bonifaccio, at the head of eight hundred well-armed
men, to join the Count Sampiero, who was besieging his native
fortress and town of La Rocca.
The amazement and joy of the young Count was great when
he beheld his lost friend at the head of the party advancing
to his relief. La Rocca was stormed, and taken the following
day ; and the news of Paoli's return, still flying through the
country, had an electrifying effect. Every hour brought in
parties of men, indifferently armed, it is true, but enthusiastic
in the cause they were prepared to fight and die for.
After a week's delay for arms, Paoli, at the head of a consider-
able force, advanced against Bona, one of the largest arsenals for
armswhichthe Genoese possessed. Thisfortress, after a desperate
and sanguinary struggle, surrendered. Messengers shortly after
arrived, and brought the intelligence that the Count Gaffieri
was advancing to meet and join forces with Paoli, in order to
lay siege to Corte, the strongest fortress, and the capital town
of the island.
Paoli received the old and beloved friend of his father with
a warm and filial embrace, at once tendering him the com-
mand of their united forces.
 No, no, exclaimed Gaffieri, with tears in his eyes, in
memory of his lost friend, P under a Paoli I fought for years,
and no other, while one of that noble name remains, shall lead
the sons of Corsica to freedom.
And well did , our hero sustain the honour conferred upon
him. Success attended him everywhere. Corte fell after a
month's siege. Then all the forts on the east coast were sur-
rendered into his hands ; and after three months more of
desperate struggle, the cities of Bastia, San Eiorenzo, and
Ajaccio (which had been retaken), alone remained to the
Genoese.
168
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
Paoli was advancing upon Bastia, when intelligence reached
him by a carrick which put into the port of Mariana that the
great Genoese fleet under Grimaldi had sustained^ a most
ruinous defeat off Locria, in Sardinia, from the Venetian fleet
led by Pisani; and that Grimaldi had returned to Genoa,
where the greatest consternation prevailed.
This was inspiring intelligence for the sons of Freedom,
while to the garrison of Bastia it was a death-blow ; for they
had looked to the fleet of Grimaldi for reinforcements after he
should have beaten the Venetians.
Paoli next invested Bastia, when one morning Pulini rushed
into his tent like one deprived of his senses. During several
moments he was unable to utter a syllable. At length the
words burst from his lips—
 Your father is alive ! 
Paoli sprang upon his feet, and the blood rushed to his face
and temples, as he grasped the arms of his squire with a force
that brought tears to his eyes.
"True, signor, as I live! gasped the squire. "The man
is without who brought the intelligence. St. Antonio ! what
a grasp you took of my arm ! The general landed four days
ago in the Gulph of San Fiorenzo. All I can learn of the
man is that he saw him land from a small tartana—heard the
crowd that soon assembled around him rend the air with
shouts of ' Paoli, our chief, for ever ! ' Wishing to be the
very first to carry the intelligence the man started on the
instant, travelled all the night, and reached the camp this
moment.
Paoli hardly breathed : his heart heat violently ; ioy over-
powered him.
 Take this purse to the man, and tell him, for the news he
has brought me, if the Almighty continues to prosper our
cause, and our country becomes free, twenty of the best acres
on the lands of Paoli are his for ever. Now hasten, Pulini,
and get a couple of our stout horses. I will start this instant
for San Fiorenzo.
We need not describe the meeting of a father and son so
devotedly attached ; nor will we pause at this period of our
tale to relate the extraordinary circumstances that caused a
belief that the general had been executed by the Genoese
commander Campaldino ; nor his adventures in escaping from
the prisons of Genoa.
In six months from that period not a Genoese remained in
Corsica. The whole island was one scene of wild enthusiasm.
Leaving his father (after relating to him the whole of his
adventures, and his betrothment to the Signor Alviano's
the battle on the eosphorus.
169
daughter) to regulate the future government of Corsica, and to
recall those influential seigneurs who had exiled themselves,
and many of whom resided in the Roman states, Giacinto
sailed from Bastia in a fine zebec, which was to return after
landing him at Pisa, with as much arms and armour as could
be purchased there; for which Giacinto possessed suflfcient
funds, having, when in the East, lodged whatever ransom
money he had received for his prizes with the partner of the
Pisan bankers residing in Byzantium. On reaching Pisa our
hero, still accompanied by his devoted squire, purchased
armour and horses, and, after a long and hazardous journey,
reached the little venta at Puelfo ; to which place we shall now
return, having been as brief as possible in the recital of inci*
dents most important in themselves, but needless to detail at
large, especially as the events before us are more than sufii-
cient to fill our allotted space.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
the gondolier.
Our hero awaited the return of the messenger with intense
anxiety. It is very strange, but true, that a presentiment of
evil about to befall us sometimes oppresses the mind with
wonderful power.
The whole of that day Paoli could not divest his mind from
dwelling upon the gloomy side1 of thina^. He dreaded he
knew not what. A thousand dismal thoughts haunted his
brain, leaving him bewildered and miserable. In vain Pulini,
whose spirits were completely restored by the miraculous
return to his native land of General Paoli, and by the emanci-
pation of his beloved country from the hated yoke of Genoa,
strove to cheer his master.
 What evil could happen ? urged the squire.  You
know they reached Venice in safety. That lucky meeting
with the captain of the galley which conveyed the Signor
Alviano and his daughter from Byzantium to Venice relieved
your mind from a load of anxiety ; and now, when almost
within bow-shot of all you so ardently long for, you permit
despondency to gain complete dominion over you.
 I have suffered so much, replied our hero,  and received
such shocks of misfortune when least expected, that, in fact, my
worthy friend, I cannot master my thoughts. Two years have
elapsed since I parted from my betrothed. What may not two
years have done in such an abode as Venice 1
While the knight and his squire, thus conversing, were
walking along the borders of the Adriatic, and looking anxiously
170
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; 0E,
towards Chiozzi, they heheld, near sunset, a sail leave the
channel of the Lagunes and steer for where they stood. It
was the light hark of the fisherman ; and before half an hour
had elapsed he jumped upon the beach. At a single glance
Giacmto saw that all was not right: the youth came towards
him with a disappointed look, and said—
 I am sorry, signor, to say that I have not been a fortunate
messenger.
Then, taking from his vest the letters given him by our
ero, he returned them, saying—
 Signor, there are no such noblemen now residing in
Venice.
Giacinto stood like one electrified. For an instant he gazed
upon the really anxious messenger with a distracted look, and
then ejaculated, repeating the words of the fisherman—
"No such noblemen now residing in Venice? Do I hear
you aright ?
 Such, in vero, signor, I was told, after spending four hours
in diligent search, till at length a tall personage masked 
 Ah, curse to their masking ! interposed Pulini.
 And wrapped in a long sable mantle, continued the youth,
 having probably overheard my inquiries, laid his hand upon
my shoulder, saying, ' Amico, be wise, and ask no more ques-
tions concerning persons who no longer reside within this
city. Take yourself out of Venice, for trust me, if. you do
not, the air of this place will disagree with you.' I stared,
rather startled, signor, after this black-looking person, who
pressed my shoulder hard as he passed on; and finding it
useless to inquire further, I returned.
Paoli made no remark ; but his squire, who knew his master
well, guessed his thoughts and intenti "ns. After a moment's
silence, he said, calmly—
 Can you take us, with the early dawn, to Venice, Pietro 1
You shall be well rewarded and incur no risk, as you can
put us on board the first gondola you meet after entering the
lagune.
 I shall he happy to serve you, signor,!' replied the youth,
"in any way, risk or no risk. I regret my ill success, because
I see it troubles you; but my boat and myself are at your
service at any hour.
Pulini made no attempt whatever to dissuade his master
from the dangerous project he intended. He simply remarked
that if he thought he could find out the mystery of the total
disappearance of two noble families he might do so with much
less danger.
"No, replied Paoli, "my mind cannot bear the suspense
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORTJS. 171
of waiting. Besides, in truth, I should have gone to Venice at
first without any hesitation ; but I wished not to alarm the
Signor Alviano or his daughter by'doing that which they
would consider rash and unnecessary. As to risk I see very
little. It is carnival time ; and we can keep ourselves masked,
and take up our abode in the Locanda—the Dalmatian Arms—■
which is in a very retired part of the city. You may remember
the landlord. It was he who recommended Juliano the gon-
dolier to us. Lodging with him, we can make every necessary
inquiry without attracting attention. I fear some fearful
tragedy has been perpetrated in that city of-tyrants, spies, and
assassins.
Leaving their horses, and the chief part of their arms, under
the care of their host, Paoli and his squire embarked at sun-
rise. It was a splendid morning; and a light breeze, just suffi-
cient to fill the lofty and picturesque latine sail from the
westward brought them rapidly into the Straits of Chiozzi.
At that period, the intricate channels leading into the waters
encircling Venice were neither buoyed nor marked, K,s at the
present day, by immense poles. The safety of Venice lay in
the impossibility of vessels, without Venetian pilots, navi-
gating the innumerable and intricate channels.
Passing the Island of Brondolo, which lies directly in front
of the town of Chiozzi, they entered what was then termed
the sixth, channel, which lies at the southern extremity of the
Palestrina. This entrance required great skill to navigate,
for innumerable banks are thrown up by the deposits of the
rivers Brenta and Adige. With a leading wind, however,
Pietro ukilfully effected his passage, and then entered the
one long canal, or channel, which led direct to Venice, distant
some twenty miles. Within the vast lagune the water was
like a mirror, though a fine breeze flew over its surface ; but
its extreme shallowness, except in the canal, left the sea as
tranquil as a fish-pond.
As they approached Venice, the appearance of which, rising
from the very bosom of the deep, had a most singular 'and
beautiful effect, Pulini suddenly remarked—■
 Signor, we have neither masks or mantles.
Paoli had not bestowed a thought upon those matters, so
fixed were his ideas upon one subject alone. Pietro, who
was steering the craft, and heard the remark, immediately
said—
 It will be better, then, signor, if you do not wish to go
ashore without them, that I cast anchor near the mouth of
the Grand Canal. You can remain beneath the awning I will
172
THE SHUNT SOUTH ; OB,
put up, while I can call a gondola, and hring back the articles
wanted in less than an hour.
This, notwithstanding his impatience, Giacinto considered
the best plan.
It was yet early in the day when they let go their anchor
and hailed a parsing gondola. They had sailed the six-and-
twenty miles in four hours, the wind being favourable and the
water smooth.
Pietro, being furnished with money, was desired to purchase
two plain brown mantles and masks, such as were commonly
worn by wealthy citizens during carnival. In an hour, or
little more, the young man returned with the articles. Put-
ting them on, and placing a handsome reward in the hands of
the young fisherman, the knight and his squire stepped within
the awning of the gondola, and bade the youth farewell, telling
him to take care of the horses, and keep the armour from rust
or stain.
 Where to, signors V' asked [the gondolier, resting upon
his long and slender oar, while his assistant used another in
the extreme bow of the boat.
 The Dalmatian Arms, if the house is still in existence,
replied our hero.
 That it is, signor, rejoined the man ;  and a very snug
and quiet inn it is.
Although Paoli ardently desired to ask many a question
from the gondolier, he refrained. After winding through the
several canals, the boat landed them at the steps of the narrow
causeway leading to the Dalmatian Arms, which was by no
means a fortunate title for an albergo at that period, as Venice
having just lost all claims to Dalmatia, any mention of th^t
country was extremely offensive to the rulers of Venice.
Nevertheless, the worthy signor, Mino Servite, the host of the
Dalmatian Arms, had lived under that sign in peace and pros-
perity for twenty years, and was therefore very reluctant to
change it, though strongly advised to do so.
The Signor Servite was a fat, short, indolent, but very honest,
landlord—never in any way troubling himself with the con-
cerns of his guests, excepting as regarded their lodging and
fare ; and then their bill, which, to do him justice, was always
moderate.
When the knight and his squire entered the locanda, carry-
ing a small leathern mail, containing a few necessaries, the
host arose, and demanded, without remarking that they still
retained their masks—which was somewhat unusual—what
he could do to serve them. Giacinto requested two private
THE BATTEE ON1 THE EOSPHORUS.
173
chambers entirely to themselves, if they could be had, as it
was his intention to remain some days.
"You can, signors, replied Servite,  at this moment have
half-a-dozen, as the only inmates residing in my locanda are
a Parmese Jew (a dealer in jewellery), and two Lombard
packmen.
He then showed the way into a very neat and comfortable
sitting-room, with two bedrooms leading from it.
 If these will do, signors, they are at your service, and per-
fectly private.
Paoli threw off his cloak and mask, saying they would do
extremely well.
 And now, signors, continued the landlord, after casting
a troubled and somewhat anxious glance upon the fine features
of the Corsican, which seemed to throw the worthy host into a
maze of thought,  you seem to have arrived from a distance.
What shall I order to be prepared for you 1
And again he looked in the face of his guest, and also into
that of Pulini, with a very thoughtful expression.
 I will leave our fare entirely to yourself, Signor Servite,
replied Giacinto ;  but there is one question I would fain ask
you. Two or three years ago, you had, I think, a relation, or,
at least, a connection of some kind, following the occupation of
a gondolier. The landlord started, and even changed colour.
 His name, continued the Corsican, "was Juliano Verbano.
Is he still in Venice ?
 Body of all the Saints! exclaimed the host, casting a
look round the chamber, and hastily closing the door,  you
are the lost Signor Paoli, about whom Juliano has been moan-
ing and grieving these two years back. Santa Madonna / 
he continued, rubbing his fat hands together in evident delight!
"but the poor boy will go distracted with joy. You are the
Signor Paoli, are you not ? I guessed it, signor, the moment
I saw your figure and face. Juliano has so often described you
and talked of you that I saw you myself a hundred times in
my dreams. I know all about you. You are quite safe
here.
Paoli now repeated his question—
 Is Juliano, the gondolier, still in Venice? 
 Cospetto, signor, he lives in this house—sleeps and eats here.
Two hours ago he was here, and will be at home again at sun-
set. Oh, how the poor boy will leap for joy !
Determined to wait for the return of Juliano, Paoli wiselv
efrained from asking any more questions of his host, being
rlarmed at the volubility of his tongue. He therefore re-
quested the Signor Servite to prepare a meal for him and his
174
THE SUNNY SOUTH; OH,
companion, as they had eaten nothing since morning ; not to
utter his name to any human being, and to send in Juliano
the moment he arrived.
 I am silent, signor, as the grave.
So saying, the landlord hurried out to prepare a repast
worthy of his distinguished guest, for such he considered the
Corsican.
 Though that man, remarked Pulini,  is loquacious, you
may rely upon his integrity ; for I have heard Juliano speak
much in favour of his kindness of heart and generosity to him
when he first came to Venice.
Our hero waited with intense anxiety the arrival of Juliano.
Those only can judge of the sensations arising from deep
mental perplexity who have experienced them.
At length, a quick, light foot was heard in the passage.
The door opened, and Juliano, the gondolier, entered the roOm.
With a joyful exclamation, and delight beaming in every
feature of his honest countenance, Juliano pressed the hand
frankly held out to him by Paoli, who had always felt in-
terested in the youth from the first time he had employed
him. Pulini shook him repeatedly and heartily by the hand;
and for some moments, from various emotions, all three re-
mained silent.
"I have much to ask of you, Juliano, began Paoli, after
pacing the chamber two or three times to calm his own agita-
tion.  Sit down. Nay, I insist on your doing so. There is
wine. When you regain composure, let me know every event
that has occurred since the hour I was banished from Venice.
I mean all events connected with those families so'dear to me.
One question I will, however, hazard. The Marchese Tiepolo, ■
I understand, is no longer in Venice; neither is Count Steno.
You must have known the Signor Alviano and his daughter.
Have they also left this ill-starred city 1
Juliano looked sadly down, as he replied—
 Alas, signor, they have disappeared; nor is it possible to
conjecture how or whither they have gone.
"I thought so, calmly said Paoli, while Pulini looked
stupified.  Now then, Juliano, I will listen to you.
 I will tell you all I know, and all I have seen, signor,
returned the gondolier ;  and perhaps I may be able to throw
some light upon the strange events that have taken place since
you left Venice.
 Thou mayest glory, oh Venice ! in thy power and vast
wealth, in thy firmness, in the vigilance of thy projects ;
but thy shameless perfidy, thy gloomy tranquillity, thy mys-
terious tyranny, convert thy people into trembling slaves.
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
175
Such were the thoughts of Paoli, as he listened to the
gondolier's narrative, given in a simple manner.
"After your departure, signor, began Juliano, "things
went on as usual in the Palace Tiepolo. In truth, we were
all, from the Marchese and his family, to the humble gondo-
lier, much cast down by the singular and unjust sentence
passed upon you, signor, by the council. The ladies went out
but seldom ; and very few parties of any kind took place in
the palace. At length news arrived that you had reached the
fleet, and had sailed : very shortly after the Lady Julia was
married to the Count Steno, and they departed for the Bnman
States for a short period. The Lady Paulina felt sadly de-
pressed at the temporary loss of her sister. I was now scarcely
ever called on to take the family out upon the lagune. So
passed several months.
"At length, letters arrived from Byzantium. We heard of
your success, and • of the prizes you had taken in the famous
battle on the Bosphorus. Your intended marriage with the
daughter of Signor Alviano also transpired.. My knowledge of
the events I aip. now relating to you, signor, is not gathered
from the idle chattering of the marchese's domestics, but comes
chiefly from the marchese himself. I frequently took the mar-
chese to his villa on the island ; and, during the passage, he
conversed freely with me, knowing how deeply interested I felt
in all concerning you, signor.
 The Signor Alviano and his daughter, to the great joy of
the Lady Paulina, arrived*in Venice ; and, shortly after, the
signor purchased the palace Pisani. His daughter, the Lady
Agnes, appeared in very delicate health, and in very low
spirits. I was now often employed in taking the ladies out on
fine days on the lagune, and often to the villa of the Marchese
Tiepolo. I add, with pride, signor, that I became a favourite
of the Lady Agnes, and of her father, who would converse with
me an hour at a time concerning you, asking many questions,
and wishing to discover whether you had any secret enemy in
Venice.
 Time rolled on, and at length I was established as the
gondolier of the Lady Agnes, and was provided with a chamber
in the court of her noble father's mansion. Shortly after-
wards I observed a great and singular change take place in
the three families to whom I was most devotedly attached : I
mean the families of Tiepolo, Alviano, and Count Steno. The
latter was, in truth, greatly altered. From being of a gay and
sprightly temper, he suddenly grew thoughtful, reserved, and
oftentimes gloomy. The very aspect of Venice seemed changed.
Strange rumours were afloat. Dalmatia was lost to the State.
176
the sunny south ; ob,
Reports got abroad that there was treason to the State in high
quarters.
Some time before this period I had begun to remark a person
in the establishment of Signor Alviano, who held the situation
of secretary. This man's name was Thomaso Mocenego. I
cannot say precisely why I began to notice this man ; but
I did so ; and the feeling grew upon me. He was of middle
age, quiet and civil in his deportment and manner; but his
look—his dull, leaden look—seemed ominous. I knew not how
it was ; but when my eyes chanced to rest on this man's face,
a kind of chill came over me, at which I tried to laugh, but I
could not shake it off.
 One morning, going with some packages from the Signora
Alviano to the Lady Paulina, I met the old major-domo, a
domestic attached for years to the marchese. He was greatly,
agitated, and calling me aside, he said : ' The Count and
Countess Steno have quitted Venice.' Then, lowering his
voice, he added, ' and for ever.' He now hurried away,
shaking his head, and muttering indistinct sentences to
himself.
CHAPTER XXIX.
the gondolier's narrative.
"I stood petrified and uneasy, continued Juliano, "looking
after the old man, when the marchese himself crossed the hall.
Seeing me he turned round, and, taking a letter from his vest,
desired me to give it, as soon as I returned, to the Signor
Alviano. I remarked that he looked very pale, and that his
manner was agitated. I returned home in dismay. Doleful
thoughts took possession of my mind ; and the remainder of
that day was passed in anxious conjectures. At night, it came
on suddenly to blow a violent gale. I was roused by the fierce
gusts that roared through the colonnades beneath my window;
and recollecting that I had left the two gondolas without pro-
tecting fenders, I jumped up, dressed hastily, and went out to
the boats, which were rubbing violently against the piles.
Having secured them, I was returning, in the intense darkness
of the night, through the colonnade that runs on one side of
the Pisani palace, when I heard a key turned in the lock of a
private portal leading into the mansion of the Signor Alviano.
Startled, for it was too late an hour for any of the domestics
to be up—.and besides this was not a door used by the inmates
of the palace—I stood still, sheltered behind a pillar. A faint
light was on the space before the entrance ; and after the door
was opened I saw a figure come forth, closely muffled in a
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHOEUS.
177
mantle. In turning to lock the door, the violent wind blew
back the cloak from the face of the individual wrapped in it :
my mind somehow felt satisfied, before that circumstance, that
in the person before me I beheld Tomaso Mocenego. The little
light there was came direct between the two columns and fell
upon the stranger's face. I was right. I saw the features
clear enough. Tightening his mantle about him, and covering
his face, Tomaso proceeded out upon the narrow causeway
running along the whole border of the Pisani canal. This
causeway leads to the Piazetta of San Marco.
 Resolved to see what could take this man out at so strange
an hour of the night, I cautiously followed, keeping in the
dark shadows of the mansions. Passing down the entire
causeway, he turned into the-square, and then entered beneath
the colonnades. I followed unperceived, and saw him enter
beneath a portico, go up to a private portal, place a key in
the lock, open the door, and quietly entering, re-lock the
portal. I stood astounded ; for I well knew the palace he had
thus so familiarly entered belonged to one of the dreaded
rulers of Venice, the Count Luigi Passarini.
 Passarini, Passarini !  exclaimed Paoli, with a start :  I
have heard that name before. Yes, it comes strongly on my
memory. The Signor Alviano often related to me anecdotes
of his early life. I remember his saying that the most event-
ful period of his existence was passed in a Venetian merchant's
counting-house. I forget the name of the signor ; but he said
he had saved his life ; and th$it his first rise in the world was
through that merchant's gratitude. Alviano thought he had
discovered the assassin afterwards in the merchant's nephew,
who was named Passarini.
 St. Antonio !  exclaimed Juliano ;  this opens a page in
the mystery that follows. It was said that the Signor Alviano
was but a poor unknown and ignoble wanderer when he first
entered Venice.
 Excuse me, interrupted Pulini, with flushed cheek, and in
an agitated manner, "excuse me. The Signor Alviano might
have been a poor wanderer from certain causes ; but they err,
Juliano, who told you he was ignoble. TsTo better blood flows
in the body of the proudest noble in this cursed city than in
that of the Signor Alviano. I may not declare his real name ;
but Corsica is the land of his ancestors, and has been so for
centuries.
Giacinto looked at his squire with amazement.
 Pardon me, my beloved lord, resumed Pnlini, "that I re-
tain any circumstance in my own breast without confiding it
to you. The secret is not mine ; for my word is passed to the
M
178
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OB,
Signor Alviano not to speak of my unlookerl-for discovery till
the day should arrive that is to unite you to his beloved
child.
 Proceed, Juliano, said Giucinto, in a more cheerful voice.
 I fancy I shall unravel this mystery yet.
 The Yirgin grant it ! signor. But I myself begin to sec a
little more into the matter than before, said Juliano. "I
stood, as I was saying, petrified. There could be no mistake.
It was the palace Passarini, one of the grandest in Venice. A3
I waited wrapped in thought, I felt a heavy hand laid upon my
shoulder, and actually shook with apprehension, so completely
was my mind impressed with feelings of dread. Turning, how-
ever, sharply round, I beheld, standing by me, a tall figure
covered with a mantle. His face was concealed by a mask.
' Who are you 1' I demanded, trying to shake off his grasp.
' Good !' exclaimed the stranger. ' You are Juliano Veibauo.
I am Caffagiola, the bravo.' 
 Signor, the very hair of my head felt curling on my fore-
head. A strange fear came over me ; and yet, signor, I am
not a timid man. But the name of Caffagiola, the bravo, made
my very flesh creep.
 I have heard the man spoken of, said Paoli;  and heard
strange and unlikely tales of his doings. I once asked Steno
how it was that such a man was not hunted out and banished.
The count only laughed, and I remember well his saying,
'Such men have their uses. Bo not heed all you hear in
Venice.'
"There are, in truth, resumf '•1 J11lia.no. "strange tales told
of this man—frightful stories too. It is said, also, that he is
playing a double game—that he is not a Venetian, and that
when he came to Venice, years back, he had a wife and family,
and that in a mad fit of jealousy he slew them all, and turned
bravo. Be this as it may, I shuddered when I felt this man's
hand upon my arm. 'Since when,' asked the bravo, .'has
Juliano, the once merry gondolier, turned spy ? ' I knew not
what to say. 'You need not fear me, Juliano,' he continued,
in a low deep voice, and taking me further within the colon-
nade, ' I would not hurt a hair of your head for your weight
in ducats. But, Juliano, you play a desperate game. Why
did you follow the man that entered there 1 Know you
who dwells within ? Bo you owe that man ill will ? Has
he injured you?' 'No,' I replied, gathering courage at the
kind tone of the bravo's voice. ' I owe him no ill will. He
never injured so poor an individual as Juliano Verbano.'
'Boy, you are not candid,' sternly returned the bravo. 'You
followed him from some motive you think to hide from me.
THE BATTLE Oft THE BOSPHOBTTS.
179
Now listen to me, Juliano,' and he pressed his heavy hand
upon my shoulder, 'never follow this man again. Never
meddle you with the actions of those who dwell in palaces.
Dream not of interfering with . But I will say no more.
I know you, Juliano, though you know me only as Caffagiola,
the bravo. Go back to your bed. Speak not of what you
have seen ; and if you would be happy, neither dwell nor
seek service in the palace of any Venetian noble. Envy
them not their wealth nor their power. Their short day of
tyranny,' and his voice sunk low but clear, 'too often sets
in blood. Go. Little as you think it, you have a friend, qs
well as countryman, in the detested Caffagiola, the bravo.'
Letting go my arm, he turned away, and in a moment I
lost all trace of him in the gloom of the colonnade.
 I did not tarry a moment after the departure of this
strange being. I felt confounded ; for I perceived clearly
that some fearful villany was at work against the family of
the Signor Alviano. Notwithstanding -the warning of the
bravo, I resolved to warn the signor as to his secretary. That
he was a spy, there was now, in my mind, no doubt.
 Ah, signor, now comes the miserable part of my narrative.
I returned to my chamber, and, in spite of'my perplexed
thoughts, fell into a deep sleep. I did not awake till roused by
some person shaking me. I started up, It was broad day-
light. I rubbed my eyes. Oh, with what a sensation of dis-
may did I look upon the owner of the hand that roused me !
One of the officers of San Marco stood by my bedside. ' Get
up, Juliano Verbano. Dress and follow me,' said the,officer,
in a harsh voice. Seeing me about to speak—' Silence ! ' he
exclaimed. 'Beware how you act. No questions. But be
quick.' I gave myself up for lost. I shook in every limb.
When I was dressed, the officer, who was masked, pointed to
a mantle and mask, exactly similar to his own. ' Put that
on.' I obeyed; though many a time it entered my mind to
make a desperate effort for my liberty, by a struggle with the
man. But I conjectured there were others near at hand ; and
I was right. At the door stood another ; and, under the colon-
nade, two more. Not a soul did I see, as we passed out on the
causeway. A long, dismal-looking gondola, with an awning
stretched over its entire length, lay alongside. In it were
several figures masked, and with mantles like that I wore. I
entered the boat ; and, pulling out of that canal, it glided into
the one leading to the horrid dungeons of St. Mark. I was half
tempted to throw myself into the canal, so troubled did I feel
with thoughts of perhaps perpetual imprisonment.
 But, not to weary you, signor, suffice it to say I was con-
M 2
180
SUNNY SOUTH ; OB,
fined in a dismal cell; and for five long months there I la J.
Not one word did I exchange with a living being for those
mortal long months. At the end of that period, an officer
came into my cell, and desired me to follow him. I did so,
though extremely weak. Coming to a chamber where stood
two or three other officers, my eyes were blindfolded, and I was led
by one of the men through various passages, and heard several
doors open and shut. Then I felt the air of heaven blow upon
my face. Still my guide led me on, till finally he stopped,
and, in a distinct voice, said, 'Juliano Verbano, you are now
free.' Oh, signor, how my heart beat! for I thought I knew
that voice. The words, ' You are free !' after five dismal
months passed in a dreary dungeon, sent such a burst of joy
through my heart that I nearly fell to the ground. ' Move
not the bandage from your face for the space of five minutes.
Then go! Be wiser for the future. But for Caffagiola the
bravo, you had lingered out life beneath the leads of St.
Mark.'
 I stood rooted as it were to the ground. I seemed to grow
there. At last I tore the bandage from my eyes and looked
before me. It was not yet clear dawn. Still, it was bright
enough to see all around. Saint Antonio ! how my heart
beats even now at the remembrance. I stood within ten paces
of the red columns of St. Mark, and as I raised my eyes my
gaze fell upon ten miserable bodies swinging between the
columns. Giddy and panic-stricken with the ghastly sight,
I rushed, as well as I was able, from the spot, till, coming to
the borders of a canal, I sat down to collect my thoughts.
The city was buried in repose, but every moment, as the dawn
increased, a solitary individual came forth from the houses.
Presently, the fishing-boats began to leave the canals, and then
the daily work of the gondoliers commenced.
 I heard the song of a light-hearted gondolier as he rowed
up the canal towards me. I knew the man well, and as he
came near I hailed him. 'Jesu Maria! 'tis Juliano!' he
exclaimed, as he came up to the steps ; ' or rather, his ghost,'
he added, as he looked at me. ' Where, in the name of all the
saints, have you been these many months, eh, Jdliano X Was
it fever that has reduced you to this skeleton state X' ' Even
so, Paulo,' I answered. 'The morning air does me good.'
'Nay, now I look at you, Juliano,' and his eye fully scanned
my face, figure, and apparel, ' I perceive it was no fever. The
saints preserve us! Get into my boat. You look faint.' I
did as he b&de me, and got him to row me to this house.
I did not tell him one word, but the poor fellow guessed well
where I came from. The worthy landlord of the Dalmatian
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORBS.
181
Arms received me- as one returned from the dead. I was too
ill and weak, besides being wretched in mind, to do anything
but go to bed that night.
"The next day I felt better, and anxiously dressed myself
in order to question the landlord as to the events that had
happened during my five months' imprisonment. When I
began to question him, the Signor Servite shook his head,
and, taking me into a private room, carefully closed the door.
"'You see, Juliano,' began my kind friend, 'the less we
talk of these things the better. We never know in Venice
who hears us or sees us. The very walls appear to have ears.
I have myself made it a rule never to inquire into anything
that happens. Ask no questions and you will never get an
uncivil answer. But with you, Juliano, I will break through
my rule for once. You want to know what has happened, and
I can tell you very little. It is rumoured that the State was
in worse danger than in the conspiracy of the unfortunate
Faliero—that Dalmatia was lost by treachery; and that %
correspondence was detected between some of our nobility and
the Greeks—also with Genoa. Be it as it may, several of our
signors, and two or three of our nobility, have disappeared.
Amongst those who have not been heard of since is the worthy
Signor Alviano and his family : his servants were all dismissed,
and his palace was closed with the seals of St. Mark upon the
doors. Above ten unfortunate wretches were hung between
the red columns, and double the number drowned in the
lagunes. Gloom and dismay hung over the city for weeks.'
'And the Marchese Tiepolo,' I demanded, with gloomy fore-
bodings. 'With respect to the princely Marchese Tiepolo—
for he had the heart and the actions of a prince—they dared
not touch him, I believe, even if inclined. He is connected
with the reigning doge and the most leading nobles of the
State. Besides, he was ever the favourite of the people—re-
lieved them from starvation at the time of the great pestilence,
and lent immense sums to the Government. In fine, no noble
in Venice had a right to hold so high a head as the Marchese
Tiepolo. As far as I could learn, when the Signor Alviano
disappeared, the Marchese felt indignant and insulted. What
he did, of course, I know not. They say he demanded a public
trial of his kinsman; and they also say that the rulers of
Venice know nothing of the Signor Alviano, save that he was
guilty of treason to the State ; but that he had fled before he
could be arrested. This, Juliano,' added the Signor Servite in
a whisper, ' I know to be false. The Marchese, indignant and
disgusted, immediately announced his intention of quitting
Venice, which he did the folio wing week with his whole
182
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
family, deeply regretted by all classes. Where he went, of
course I cannot say; but within the last month orders have
arrived to the Marchese's agent here to dispose of his palace,
his villa, and all the property he possessed in Yenice. His
princely mansion now belongs to the family of Contarini, and
the mansion of the Signor Alviano has fallen into the posses-
sion of Count Luigi Passarini's son.'
 Such, Signor Paoli, is the entire substance of all I could
glean from the Signor Servite, and from several others whom
I cautiously questioned. Never since the night already men-
tioned have I encountered the bravo CafFagiola ; and I merely
remained in Yenice, which I ardently longed to quit, in the
hope of gaining some intelligence of those who have so miser-
ably disappeared.'5
CHAPTER XXX.
count luigi passarini.
During the narrative of the gondolier, Paoli made few re-
marks ; but, though somewhat unaccountable in many parts,
one thing appeared evident,—the Signor Alviano, he felt satis-
fied, was the victim of private vengeance, and that the enemy
who had effected his ruin was Count Luigi Passarini. In times
past, Alviano, when talking to our hero of the events of his
early life, never related any distinct or continued narrative,
but only described a few remarkable passages or events. Never-
theless, by adding a few surmises, he could easily imagine that
the vengeance of Passarini was caused by Alviano's discovery
that he was the assassin of his .uncle.
Paoli also conjectured that, so far from the Signor Alviano
having fled from Venice, he, probably at that moment, either
lingered in the dungeons of St. Mark or had perished through
Passarini's machinations. But where was Alviano's onlyandmost
tenderly-loved child 1 Could the revenge perpetrated against
the father have fallen also on the daughter 1 Did the hatred
of Passarini aim at the annihilation of all belonging to his
victim ? Was their wealth also an object of his treachery 1
These and many other thoughts tormented Paoli's brain the
night after hearing the narrative of the gondolier.
The dearest wish of Juliano's heart was gratified ; for our
hero took him into his service, promising that when he quitted
Yenice he should not be left behind ; and that, for the future,
he might set his mind at rest. Leaving Pulini to give the young
gondolier a brief narrative of their adventures in the East, he
himself retired to ponder over what he had heard. Paoli was
well aware of the despicable and atrocious system of espionage
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
183
adopted by the rulers of Venice. A secret body of police dwelt
within the city ; and in every mansion, almost, the bappy tran-
quillity of domestic life was poisoned. Not a whisper of discontent
or remark upon the government escaped the ever-listening
ears of the accursed spy. Even inoffensive sayings were dis-
torted by those wretches for their own individual benefit ; for
they often grew rich upon the ruin of those whose bread they
ate. Suddenly, individuals would disappear from society, and
some never more be heard of ; and, oftentimes, to breathe an
inquiry after their fate was construed into an act of guilt.
The flight of Count Steno from Venice did not so much
surprise him. Paoli knew the count well; he was much
given to political jntrigue, and had powerful enemies in the
city. Besides, the noble relatives of the unfortunate Marino
Faliero looked upon the count with most hostile feelings. Al-
together, it was very possible that Steno might have com-
mitted himself with the government.
On the following day Paoli sent for Juliano.
 I have been thinking much, said the former,  upon what
you related last night; and the conclusion I have come to is,
that only from Count Luigi Passarini can we ascertain the fate
of the Signor Alviano'and his daughter.
 True, signor, replied the gondolier :  I have thought
that long ago; but, alas ! against one so powerful what can
be done 1
 Much, Juliano ; much, by three resolute spirits. Most
conspiracies fail through tbe multitude of those admitted into
the plot, and the variety of private schemes contemplated by
the conspirators. Now, we are but three ; we have but one
object in view, and I am, generally speaking, of a sanguine dis-
position. I think I heard you say to Pulini yesterday evening,
while I was apparently buried in thought, that you have fre-
quently seen the Count Luigi since your relief from captivity.
Is that the case ?
 Yes, signor ; such is the truth. In fact, any one may see
him once or twice every week.
 How so 1 And where, Juliano 1 
"The count, replied the gondolier, "purchased the villa
and land belonging to the Marchese Tiepolo on the little
island of Geno. You may remember, Signor Paoli, he com-
menced the villa before you left for Byzantium. The Count
Luigi is making great alterations in the villa, and building a
kind of temple on the highest part of the island. He goes
there in his gondola once or twice every week, now the fine
season has set in, and stays till dusk. I have passed him
several times on the lagune.
184
aiiii. booth ; OR,
"Any one with him, Juliano? eagerly questioned the
Corsioan.
fo Sometimes his son, signor; but he is mostly alone, with
ur gondoliers.
"Well, then, calmly observed our hero, "we must seize
this Count Luigi.
Juliano started as if shot, while the stout-hearted squire
rubbed his hands, exclaiming—
"By the mass, my lord, never was there a better idea. We
can do it.
Though the very first to restrain, or endeavour to restrain,
his master, when bent upon what he considered a rash or
wild project, Pulini was now as anxious as our hero himself.
To the Signor Alviano he felt a strong attachment; and
knowing how deeply devoted his master was to the daughter, and
how impossible it would be to move him from. Venice till some
clue was discovered, he caught eagerly at the proposed seizure
of one of the dreaded Council of Ten.
 Listen to my plans, said Paoli, in a cheerful voice.  You
say Count Luigi returns from the little island about dusk.
Npw this island is one of the most remote on the lagune. You,
Juliano, must first of all purchase a common lagune fishing-
boat. Say nothing whatever to our worthy landlord. Not
that I fear his loquacity; but I am resolved, in this most
treacherous city, not to bring danger or destruction upon any
one besides ourselves. Can you purchase, without suspicion,
such a boat as I have indicated 1
 Most certainly, signor ; and, curious enough, before your
arrival I was about to do so. You may remember the bravo
said to me, ( Seek not service beneath the roof of a Venetian
noble.' Since my release, having no gondola of my own, and
unwilling to take service, I usually earned a few sequins by
either aiding our fishermen or rowing a gondola for a friend.
I like the life of a fisherman, since the late unfortunate
events, much better than serving as a gondolier ; and Signor
Servite has offered me the money to buy a boat.
"Well, that is fortunate. Purchase a boat; and, to avoid
suspicion, receive the money from our worthy host. I shall
take care to restore him the amount. As soon as you have
got this boat, you and Pulini, who may very easily dis-
guise himself in fisherman's attire, must go forth and watch
patiently until fortune favours us. Should you see Count Luigi
on the island, either alone or with his son, return immediately
for me. You must have arms stowed away in the boat under
your nets. That is all you have to do. Leave the rest to me.
X forgot to say that wc must be provided with masks and
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
185
mantles. I am about, Juliano, to play a desperate game, and
to tax your heart, my poor fellow, for you have suffered
much.
 Nay, signor, do not wound my heart. Can you, for a
moment, think I would shrink 1 No ; not if the rack and the
gibbet were certain to follow. Try me, Signor Paoli; only
try me.
Paoli pressed the poor gondolier's hand kindly, saying,—
 I never doubted your courage or your fidelity, Juliano.
But I almost repented dragging one so unconnected with me
into the unlucky destiny that seems to pursue me.
 I will purchase the fishing-boat this very evening, said
Juliano ; "for the day after to-morrow is the day Count Luigi
generally visits the island.
 Now, what are your plans, signor 1 asked Pulini, after
the departure of Juliano ;  for although we may succeed in
entrapping this Count Luigi, it by no means follows that we
shall make him confess.
 I agree with you, Pulini, responded Giacinto.  He may
remain obstinately silent under any threats. Still the pros-
pect of instant death, and the ignoble one of drowning in his
own impure lagune, may do much. If he should persist in
silence, I cannot, in conscience, meddle with his life. But I
will try other means ; we must bind and gag him. Juliano
knows the Chiozzi channel. We will take him to where we
left our horses, and carry him without the Venetian territories,
and, by strict confinement, wring from him a confession that
the fear of death might not have the power to do.
 I have heard Juliano say, remarked Pulini, "that this
Count Luigi is a coward at heart.
 So is every assassin, returned Paoli.  A treacherous
villain, like Passarini, is ever a coward when tried. And
my life to a ducat, he will become abject with fear the
moment he sees he is helplessly in our power.
Notwithstanding the hopes of our hero, a fortnight elapsed
before Juliano could give notice that the Signor Passarini had
landed alone on the island of Geno.
It whs a calm, lovely day in the early summer, when 'Paoli,
masked, and enveloped in a plain brown mantle, embarked on
board the fishing-boat of Juliauo. A low canvas awning was
in the boat, beneath which he stretched himself upon some
nets, any other position being quite impossible. Pulling
quietly out from the canals, they slowly pursued their way to
the picturesque island of Geno. Within a thousand yards
of it was another island, a mere mass of sandrock, but famous
186
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OE,
for the resort of a certain species of fish peculiar to the laguneS
of Venice.
Off this island, our hero, Pulini, and Juliano cast anchor,
watching intently any movements going on in the island of
Geno. Passarini's gondola had to pass close by where they
were anchored, on his return to Venice.
 We must be very alert, Juliano, remarked Paoli,  and
be certain of running foul of his gondola; for if once he
passes us, it would be utterly impossible to overtake him.5'
Slowly wore the day to the impatient occupiers of the
fishing-boat; and yet, during the tedious hours of delay, the
scene around them was lovely in the extreme. Scarce five
miles off lay the vast and imposing city of the waves, the self-
styled Queen of the Adriatic. The lagune, studded with
islands—on some of which rose many a stately mansion—was,
also covered with countless barks, from the galley and
argosy, to the gilded barge, the sombre gondola, and the pic-
turesque fishing crafts. Music and joyous laughter came
from many a gay bark that floated by during the day ; but,
as evening closed, that remote part of the lagune became
entirely deserted ! yet the gondola of Count Luigi still re-
mained moored to the quay of the island.
The shades of night were fast creeping over the sluggish
waters, undisturbed even by a ripple, when Juliano gave
notice that the gondola of the count had pushed from
the quay. The anchor of our conspirators "was up in a
moment, Juliano and Pulini taking the oars, while Paoli
seized the tiller, as they pulled slowly on towards Venice.
Presently the gondola of the count came rapidly on, under
the vigorous strokes of four stout oarsmen. When nearly
alongside, Paoli put down his tiller, saying, in a low voice,—
 Pull your best! 
The next moment, with a violent shock, they ran foul of the
gondola of one of the terrible rulers of Venice.
A volley of curses and other maledictions was the com-
mencement of hostilities on the part of the count's gondoliers,
who were astounded at the audacity or insolence of a fishing
boat running foul of their illustrious master's boat on the
broad lagune. But the next instant, Juliano and Pulini
leaped aboard ; and, with their swords at the throats of the
unarmed and now terrified gondoliers, soon quieted their out-
cries, while Paoli, joining the onset, advanced towards the
pavilion just as Count Luigi threw back the silken curtains to
demand the reason of the uproar. The count stood stupified
on seeing the assailants ; then, with a face pale as death, fell
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
187
back, and drew a dagger from bis vest. A handsome lamp lit
the pavilion ; and, as Paoli entered, the count sank upon the
luxurious cushions, saying,—
 Who are you ? and what means this insolent intrusion 1
Juliano was right. Count Luigi Passarini was a coward—a
very coward in heart and. soul. Paoli saw that at a glance;
and a smile of scorn curled his lip, as, dashing his mask from
his face, he said,—
"We have xpet before, Count Luigi Passarini, and, no
doubt, you remember who I am. Consult your heart, if you
possess such a commodity, and you will guess at once the
cause of my intrusion.
Ghastly was the face of the Venetian, as his strained gaze
fell upon the noble features of the knight.
Throwing open the curtains of the pavilion, Paoli showed to
the startled Passarini that they were the sole occupants of the
gondola ; for he had settled with PuKni that he should take
the four gondoliers into their boat, and land them on the little
island off which they had anchored. A night passed there, at
that season of the year, would be of very little inconvenience
to them.
 Now, Count Luigi Passarini, you see we are alone. I have
staked my life upon the issue of this attempt. Yours, count,
is also at stake; for I tell you, by this cross, and the knight
kissed the cross-handle of his sword,  if you deceive me, or
falsely answer the questions I shall now ask you, you will find
your grave in the waters of this accursed lagune, which, for
ages, have hidden the bodies of your victims.
Vain was every effort of Count Luigi to summon courage.
His pride, his scorn, his haughty temper, all fell beneath the
withering glance of the Corsican.
"I now ask you, count, of what crime was the Signor
Alviano accused, that himself and his family should be cut off
from all ties and connections ? 
Passarini, for a moment, was unable to answer. He was well
aware of the determined spirit of his questioner. The count
was one of the council that insisted on Paoli's banishment
from Venice. He therefore rapidly turned over in his mind all
the chances in his favour, and saw, in the end, that no mode
of escape was left but in speaking the truth. Therefore, in
reply to the Corsican's question, he said,—>
 Bartolomeo Alviano was accused of treason to the State,
was tried and found guilty.
 Treason, count !  returned Paoli; "what on earth could
the merchant Alviano have done to incur such a charge %
 It was distinctly and fully proved, replied the Venetian,
188
THE SUNNY SOUTH J OR,
 that Bartolomeo Alviano corresponded -with the Greeks of
Byzantium, after it had been declared treason to do so.
Letters were also discovered proving he corresponded also with
Genoa. Again, it was ascertained that he had lodged nearly
the «whole of his immense wealth in the Bank of St. George,
in Pisa, though that wealth was gained under the protection
of the banners of St. Mark.
 You could tell, probably, interrupted Paoli, disgusted at
hearing on what paltry charges an innocent man was convicted
of treason and condemned, "you could tell who was the
writer, or forger of those letters. You, Count Luigi, had in
your service a man named Tomaso Mocenego, who was forced
upon the Signor Alviano as a secretary.
The Count started to his feet. Again his hand grasped his
dagger ; and an expression of fiendish malice passed over his
features. But one look at the powerful form of the Corsican,
and at his self-possession, as if he were merely in the presence
of a child, demonstrated how useless would be any struggle
with such a man, even were his associates not at hand.
"I know more, Count Luigi, of ihe past than you can
imagine. He who could have the devilish heart to attempt
the assassination of his uncle, would be capable of perpetrat-
ing any crime, This was a random shot on the part of the
Corsican ; but the blanched cheek and trembling limbs of the
Venetian proved to Paoli that his surmise was correct.
 And, pursued our hero,  such a man could easily plot
the downfall of one against whom he nourished a deadly
hate. But no more of this. I now ask, when the Signor
Alviano was found guilty, what was his fate 1 And what
became of his child, his only daughter ? Por surely, and the
lip of our hero curled with bitter scorn and contempt,  surely,
she was not charged with treason.
"The Signor Alviano was sentenced to perpetual banish-
ment from Venice and all her colonies; and whatever pro-
perty he possessed within the territories of Venice was confis-
catecl.*
 And how was this iniquitous sentence carried into execu-
tion 1
 They were conveyed, under an escort of six officers of the
Republic, beyond the territories of Venice, and left at the boun-
dary stone of the Paduan territory.
 Will you swear to this, Count Luigi Passarini V sternly
demanded the Corsican.  Will you swear on the cross, will
you stake your salvation, that neither Alviano nor his daughter
linger in any of the prisons of Venice? Will you, on your
sacred oath, avouch that they were left beyond your bounda-
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
189
ries, free and unshackled, to go "whither they pleased 1 Will you
solemnly swear to this 1 And Paoli advanced close to the
Venetian.
 Most willingly and in truth,1' exclaimed Passarini,  will
I swear.
As the Corsican held to him the cross of his sword to kiss, a
fiendish spirit of vengeance rose in the heart of the Venetian.
Quick as light he drew the poniard from his vest, and struck it
with all his force at the heart of the Corsican, forgetful of
what might be his own fate afterwards. In striking the blow,
he started back with an impious curse ; and, slipping, in his
eagerness and terror, he fell backwards against the flimsy cur--
tains of the pavilion, bursting them ; and the gondola—one of
those built for speed—heeled over with his weight. Uttering
a cry of agony, Count Luigi Passarini disappeared beneath the
dark waters of the lagune.
Paoli, perfectly unhurt—for he wore beneath his vest a chain
shirt of exquisitely wrought Milan steel—when he saw the
treacherous villain falling overboard, leaned over to catch him
before he disappeared ; but so sudden had been the fall of the
count that he was too late.
It was now quite dark; and, as Paoli looked over the side,
expecting each moment to see the count rise to the surface, and
intending to pull him on board, he heard the voice of Pulini at
a short distance, say,—
 Did you hail, signor ? Has anything happened ? 
 Yes, exclaimed Paoli ; "look about you. Count Luigi has
fallen into the water, after making a most villainous attempt
to stab me.
 Then the devil has his own by this time, muttered the
squire, as he and Juliano pulled up alongside.
"We are not fifty yards from the island, said Juliano.
 We have drifted close in. Perhaps he has swam ashore.
"I scarcely think that, returned Paoli, gazing somewhat
anxiously over the dark waters ;  for he struck his head
against that iron staunchion, and went down like a stone. Bow
round some distance, and see if there is any sign of him. Vil-
lain as he surely was, let him not die with all his sins upon his
head.
But vain was .their search ; no trace of Count Luigi was to
be discovered. .
"There is no use in our lingering here, signor, said Pulini.
 If he has gone to keep company with the many victims he
has condemned to the same fate, we must leave him there ;
and should he have got to yonder island, there let him stay.
190
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
But it's very clear, if lie has escaped with life, the sooner we
are out of Venice the better.
"Let us search the island, said Juliano. "If he has
perished, we are perfectly safe ; but if he has escaped, we had
better not attempt to return to Venice, but make for Chiozzi
at once. The gondoliers on the island have no idea who we
are. Pulini and I can land, and five minutes will take us all
over the bank.
 Do so, said Paoli:  I will await your Return.
In half an hour they returned.
 He is not there, said Pulini ;  therefore must be
drowned. The four men were rolled up in an old sail under a
shed on the top of the bank, apparently very little troubled
about their situation. They take us for ladri de mare. We said
nothing to them about the fate of their master ; but walked
round the bank, and saw no trace of him.
 What a singular fate for a councillor of St. Mark!
thought Paoli, as, entering the fishing boat, they pulled for
Venice, leaving the gondola of the so late powerful Count
Luigi Passarini to float with the passing breeze.
 And now, signor, said Juliano,  I think, we had better
make but little stay in Venice. When I land you at the Piaz-
zetta, I will take this boat where it will not be seen, for fear
any of those men might recognize it; not that that would be
very likely ; for it is so exactly similar to all of its class that
we run little risk. Still it is better to be secure.
After landing, Paoli and his squire proceeded to the Dalma-
tian Arms, where Paoli imparted to his anxious attendant all
the conversation that passed between him and the councillor of
St. Mark.
CHAPTER XXXI.
BARTOLOMEO ALVIANO.
We must now entreat the indulgence of our readers for the
retrograde movements we are forced to make in our story.
We have previously mentioned how the younger brother
of the Marchese Damari left his native home in the little
island of Capraja, to seek' his fortunes upon the continent of
Europe. On landing on the shores of Italy, in compliance
with the wishes of his kind and affectionate, but' proud
brother, he dropped the name of Damari, and took that of
Alviano.
On the early fortunes of the then enthusiastic youth it is
needless to dwell. Like all who view the world at a^distance,
THE BATTIE OH THE BOSPHORHS.
191.
lie entered it to be deceived and plundered by false friends and
false representations. We take up bis narrative, therefore, at
the period when he entered Yenice, poor and friendless, but
neither dispirited nor hopeless. His object in resorting to
Yenice was to procure employment in some of the great,
mercantile houses ; for Bartolomeo was ashamed to return,
thus poor and stripped of the large sums with which he had
departed, to the open arms of his brother.
"No, he reasoned with himself, "I will struggle yet awhile
with fortune. I am older, and not so new to the crafts of the
world.
But the poor, lonely, unfriended foreigner might have wan-
dered the narrow causeways of Yenice for months without
succeeding in the object of his ambition.
Accident, or that fickle dame—Fortune, stood his friend.
Assassination, not at all a rare occurrence in any of the
fair cities of the south at that period, was particularly com-
mon in Yenice, and caused very little astonishment.
One night, returning after a solitary and musing^ramble
beneath the arcades of the only square in Venice—that of
San Marco—Bartolomeo Alviano saved a signor's life from
the dagger of an assassin, by interposing, courageously but
heedlessly, his own body in the way of the murderer's steel.
Though severely wounded, Alviano—a map of the pen, not
the sword—struggled gallantly ; for the villain strove to com-
plete his purpose. In the scuffle the assassin's mask fell to
the ground, and Alviano beheld the man's features, though the
prostrate Venetian did not. The face was remarkable, and it
remained strongly impressed on the memory of Alviano. Some
persons approaching, the assassin fled.
It was now ascertained that the individual, against whose life
the ruffian's dagger was originally aimed, was a merchant, by
name Dalmasso. He ordered the senseless body of his preserver to
be carried to his own palace. During many weeks, Alviano's
recovery was doubtful: every care was bestowed upon him ;
and when he was able to leave his couch, the merchant re-
quested to know to whom he was so deeply indebted.
Alviano told his simple tale, excepting his real name and
birthplace. His fine open countenance, frank manners, and
the abilities he had at times displayed in conversation, won
the esteem of the Venetian; and Alviano was offered a re-
spectable place in his employment, with a good salary, which
was accepted with gratitude and joy.
In conversing with the Signor Dalmasso, Alviano discovered
that he had not the slightest idea as to who the villain, was
that attempted his life. In fact, so well respected and beloved
192
THB SUNNY SOUTH ; OB,
was the wealthy merchant, that even his friends were of opinion
that his person must have been mistaken by the assassin for
another.
One morning the Signor Dalmasso said to his young
friend,—
"You are now, thank God, quite recovered. I will take
you to my counting-house. My nephew, a steady, quiet youth,
is just returned from Trieste ; he is my chief clerk. I must
make you acquainted with him.
On entering the long and well-lighted room of the mer-
chant's counting-house, Alviano perceived that nearly twenty
clerks were employed writing at a long table.
 You and my nephew,'' said the merchant,  will have a
smaller and more cheerful chamber to yourselves. Follow
me.
In another apartment, into which the merchant led, sat a
young man, rather plainly attired ; for, at this period, no law
existed relative to the dress of Venetian subjects. The young
man hat! his back to the merchant and his protege, but, on the
former saying—
 Andrea, let me introduce my young friend and your
future companion to you : you will soon be on terms of cor-
diality, I feel convinced, as I know, Andrea, you will value
your uncle's preserver—
The young man rose, and turned quietly round, at the same
time stretching out his hand towards Alviano, and saying, in
a calm, measured voice—■
 As the preserver of your life, dear uncle, I envy the Signor
Alviano ; but with all my heart I welcome him.
As the youth rose, and turned, Alviano raised his eyes to his
face ; but, as he did so, he felt the blood forsake his cheeks;
his limbs trembled; and, instead of taking the offered hand,
he staggered a pace back.
 I fear, uncle, said the youth, "you have brought the
signor out too soon. The change of air, Signor Alviano, has
affected you.
 Merciful Providence ! mentally ejaculated Alviano, "do
I dream 1 do I behold the assassin ? or does an imaginary
likeness distract me 1
Seeing the distressed look of the worthy merchant, who
kindly offered him his arm, knowing how strange his conduct
must appear, and feeling that, after all, he might be mis-
taken, Alviano rallied, exerted himself, pleaded sudden pain,
and, after a time, really thinking he must have been under an
illusion, returned the young man thanks for his kindness;
and, shortly after, the merchant left them, saying—
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
193
 There, I am glad to see you recovered, my dear young
friend. I leave you under the care and tuition of Andrea.''
Bartolomeo felt strangely perplexed. It seemed to him in-
credible that so very young a man as the merchant's nephew
should commit so foul a crime. And for what purpose i He
thought he must have been mistaken, yet the features of the
assassin, like those of Andrea, were most remarkable in their
expression.
Plunged in reverie, Alviano was unconscious that the young
man's eyes were steadily fixed upon him, till at length his
meditations were broken by the merchant's nephew saying—
 What does the Signor Alviano think of Venice 1 Though,
in sooth, he added, with a singular smile upon his lips, "your
first intimacy with our citizens was a rough one.
"As you may suppose, replied Alviano, "I can know but
little of either Venice or its inhabitants ; but it is a fair city
to look upon, and doubtless its citizens are no more vicious
than those of any of the other cities of Italy.
 Ah, Signor Alviano, you do not know us. More assassina-
tions and secret murders take place within the confines of
Venice than in any other four cities of Italy, even including
Rome. You must be very careful in your choice of acquaint-
ance, Signor Alviano. And I am sorry I can, in thatrespect, be of
little service to you; for two years I have been absent from
Venice. I spent some months in Rome ; and the last eight
months I have been transacting business for my most worthy
uncle in Trieste. I expect shortly to proceed to Byzantium,
where my uncle has established an extensive branch] of
commerce.
"I must be mistaken, thought Alviano.
After some trivial conversation, Andrea suddenly said—
 You cannot be aware, Signor Alviano, of the deep debt
of gratitude I owe to the Signor Dalmasso. I must give you
a very short sketch of the family of which you now form a
part. You must know, continued the youth, "that I have a
twin brother.
Alviano gave a slight start, and looked up into the calm,
cold features of the speaker, who, however, without noticing
the emotion of Alviano, continued his recital.
 Our father was the Count Passarini; and, some years before
his mysterious disappearance, he was one of the first and most
opulent of our Venetian nobles. The count was unjustly
accused of joining in a most dangerous conspiracy against the
State. His papers were seized, and he himself suddenly
vanished. Our mother perished in giving us birth. After our
father's disappearance—we were scarcely two years old at the
N
194
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
time—tlae whole of his property was confiscated, he was de-
clared a traitor and an outlaw. Alas ! it was, I fear, too well
surmised that he died by torture in the dungeons of St. Mark.
Several other nobles were accused. Some were executed;
some banished ; while many citizens of minor note were daily
suspended from the red columns. Guilty or not guilty, from
that day to this nothing more was ever heard of our ill-fated
parent. We were immediately adopted by our excellent uncle
and only relative, the Signor Dalmasso, and carefully reared by
him. But, notwithstanding all his care in our moral education,
my brother turned out very wild, very dissipated, and of an
obstinate and wilful temper. He lost large sums of money;
and, finally, he fled this city with a lady of exceeding beauty,
but, as you may suppose, very low morals. Since that, we
have never heard of him ; although, and Andrea spoke with
marked emphasis,  it has been said he was seen some time
back in Venice. How, signor, you have, in a few words, our
family history. Can you wonder if I feel a profound venera-
tion for the character of the Signor Dalmasso, who has not only
paid immense sums for my brother's follies, but has spared no
expense in my education 1 He intends making me his partner,
and has also hinted, in plain terms, that I shall be his heir.
 He is, in truth, Signor Passarini, replied Alviano, in a
much more cheerful voice, "a most kind and noble signor.
And now, thought Alviano to himself,  I have been deceived.
Doubtless the twins are like one another. Could the brother
have secretly returned to Venice to assassinate his uncle?
And for what, if the Signor Andrea Passarini is already consti-
tuted his heir ?
Shortly after, the young men returned together to the man-
sion of the Signor Dalmasso, where Andrea had a suite of
apartments.
Days, weeks, and months rolled on without the occurrence
of any other event of importance. Every day increased the
confidence of the merchant for his protege; and every day,
despite his efforts, Alviano grew more distrustful of the mer-
chant's nephew.
Passarini's chief companion was one of the head clerks of
the establishment. This young man was by birth a Paduan,
of respectable parents, so far as his own assertion went, and an
orphan. His name was Guido Mussato. In manners, he was
mild, silent, and reserved; but the expression of his ill-
favoured features had something so unaccountably repellent,
that few, if Rny, excepting the merchant's nephew, could bear
his society.
Alviano steadily avoided all intercourse with this young man ;
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS. 195
and, from some chance expressions he one day unintentionally
overheard, all his former suspicions concerning Andrea Passarini
were revived. By attentive observation he became convinced
that Andrea, with the assistance of Mussato, intended to take
the life of the Signor Dalmasso. Alviano knew not what steps
to take. To attempt to open the eyes of the uncle to the cha-
racter of the nephew, would be a difficult if not an impossible
task ; as he possessed no positive proofs to support so horrible
an accusation. He himself had heard quite sufficient while
Mussato was closeted with Andrea, But would not the word
of Dalmasso's nephew be believed more readily than his 1
One night, as he lay awake, pondering how he might save
his generous patron from the base designs of his nephew, he
fancied he saw a light flash across his chamber from the key-
hole, or from under the door. The hour was extremely late.
No domestics slept in front of the mansion. In fact, the part
of the house appropriated to the clerks was, in a manner,
divided from the front by a pair of large folding doors cross-
ing the hall. A large bell was suspended within their side,
from which a wire-rope led into the chamber of the Signor
Dalmasso, whose nephew slept in the apartment beyond that
occupied by Alviano, but in the same corridor.
Suspicious of every trifle, Bartolomeo no sooner beheld the
light than he arose ; and, throwing on part of his dress, cau-
tiously opened the door, and looked along the corridor. To his
great surprise he beheld, at the further end, a figure bearing a
light. The figure was, for a few seconds, stationary. Scarcely
giving himself time for thought, he returned into his chamber,
and took down from the mantel-piece a dagger that hung there,
and hurried back to the corridor. The figure had vanished,
and not a ray of light was to be seen. Groping along the wall,
and arriving at the end of the passage, he again caught a
glimpse of the light, and then distinctly perceived two figures
ascending the flight of stairs leading to the Signor Dalmasso's
sleeping-room. Bartolomeo himself stood in obscurity; but
he easily recognised the two figures to be Andrea Passarini and
Guido Mussato.
On reaching the top of the stairs they paused, and Alviano
perceived Mussato hand the lamp to his companion. Taking
from beneath his mantle a bowl, he poured something from a
bottle into the vessel; and then he and his confederated fixed
two masks upon their faces,
Alviano shuddered, and tiembled in every limb.
 Gracious Heaven !  he exclaimed,  they are going to
poison my benefactor !  Ilis first impulse was to turn, rush
back, and gain that part of the mansion where slept the
N 2
196
THE SUNN? SOUTH ; OB,
domestics; but be reflected tbat before tbey could be brought
to the assistance of their master-he would no longer need it.
Therefore, without further hesitation, he grasped his dagger,
and, rushing across the passage, ascended the flight of steps
almost at a bound. As he approached he heard the sounds of
contention from the merchant's chamber, into which he sprang,
resolved to sacrifice himself in an effort to save him.
The moment was, in truth, a critical one ; Mussato held a
poniard to the breast of the Signor Dalmasso, who struggled
violently, while his nephew was endeavouring to pour the con-
tents of the bowl down his throat.
As Alviano darted with a loud cry into the chamber, the •
poisoned bowl fell from the hands of the assassin, and the grasp
of the villain Mussato relaxed. With a vigorous effort, the
Signor Dalmasso sprang from his couch, and, seizing the bell-
rope, pulled with violence.
 Stab him, Guido! screamed Passarini, as, with the yell of
a fiend, he darted upon Alviano, who fought manfully, but
was struck bleeding to the floor. The next moment, however,
the sound of men's voices was heard. Dashing the lamp upon
the floor, and stamping his foot upon the prostrate body of the
merchant, the villain fled. Andrea Passarini effected his
escape ; but his accomplice, Mussato, after a fierce struggle,
was secured.
Several weeks passed before Bartolomeo recovered from his
wound. The Signor Dalmasso then informed him of what had
occurred during his illness. Satisfied that his nephew had
fled from Venice for ever, his outraged uncle left him to his
fate. Mussato, handed over to the authorities of Venice, was
branded on the forehead and condemned to the galleys for life.
Already greatly attached to his preserver, the Venetian
merchant formally adopted him, according to the fashion of
the times ; and St. Mark acknowledged him as an elected son
of the Venetian republic. Shortly afterwards Alviano's name
became associated with that of Dalmasso as partner; and
some years subsequently he married into the noble house of
Pisani, and thus became connected with the Marchese Tiepolo.
He then sailed for Byzantium, in order there to establish
extensive mercantile connections. In Byzantium he lost his
beloved wife, which for, a long period plunged him into the
deepest grief. His only child Agnes was sent to Venice and
committed to the care of her aunt, the Marchesa Tiepolo, to be
educated with her daughters. On the death of the Signor
Dalmasso, who was carried off by the great pestilence that
nearly depopulated Venice, he inherited the whole of his great
wealth.
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
197
During these eventful years Alviano had. despatched several
couriers with letters to his brother, the Marchese Damari.
Kind and affectionate replies were received: still the same
eccentric idea with respect to commerce retained possession of
Damari's mind. He said in one of his letters,  The name
you have selected has been a fortunate one. Retain it; at
least while I live. This appeared a strange prejudice to the
liberal and generous mind of Bartolomeo Alviano ; but he
little heeded distinction of blood or high-sounding names.' His
child was all a fond father could wish. She would be as
eagerly sought after as the heiress of the wealthy Alviano, as
if known to be the niece of the proud, feudal lord of the little
Island of Capraja.
Years rolled over ; and the long-absent merchant returned,
as we have already seen, with his beautiful daughter, to
Venice, after an absence of twenty years.
During those twenty years we must briefly state how fared
the fortunes of the outcast Andrea Passarini. After flying
from Venice, he sought refuge in the Tuscan states, where,
having been a gambler from his earliest years, he addicted
himself to that vice with increased pertinacity and with various
changes of fortune, till, being detected in a fraud, he fled from
Florence into the Roman states ; and in Rome, to his astonish-
ment, he encountered his twin brother, Luigi, living in great
splendour. This man, who in person was identical with his
brother, differed from him in some respects in mind and dispo-
sition. Luigi was not a cold-blooded villain ; but he was a
wild, profligate, bad man. The riches he seemed to possess
astonished Andrea, but only for a short time, for the seeming
mystery was soon explained. Luigi Passarini was, in fact, one
of those celebrated robber chiefs, who, some years prior to the
revolution of Cola Rienzi, infested with daring and singular
audacity the Campagna of Rome, and levied with impunity
a regular tax from the various towns and villages in the
vicinity of the eternal city. Rienzi certainly deserved the
applause of Italy by extirpating those bandits and their for-
midable miniature armies.
Andrea joined his brother, but being a coward at heart, he
only acted the part of spy ; assumed his brother's name, Luigi,
and appeared in society as the Count Luigi Passarini. In this
way he served the robbers effectually.
After the lapse of two years his brother and several of the
band were carried off by a pestilential fever. Andrea was
offered the command, but, as so hazardous a life by no means
suited his taste, he received his share of booty and quitted
that part of Italy. Some time afterwards he arrived in
198
THE SUNNY SOUTH; OB,
Florence, still under his brother's name ; and assuming the title
his father bore, he succeeded in winning the hand of the only
daughter of Count Donati, a Florentine nobleman of consi-
derable influence but little wealth. Count Luigi, as we shall
now call him, persuaded the Count Donati that, as nothing
had ever been proved against his father, it was quite possible,
through his influence, and the political state of affairs between
Florence and Venice, to get his father's estates restored to him.
The jOount interested himself in a powerful quarter, and after a
lapse of some time, Count Luigi was acknowledged to be the heir
of his father, and a certain portion of his sire's confiscated
property was restored. Count Luigi then married Donati's
daughter, and, at the death of the Merchant Dalmasso,
returned with his wife and son to Venice.
Before this, he had been joined by the villain Mussato, who
had previously escaped from the galleys. This man was not to
be deceived by the change of Andrea into Luigi; and Passa-
rini, who was aware that the wretch knew too much, but, at
the same time, could be useful to him in his schemes of ven-
geance, took him into his service under the name of Mocenego.
This scoundrel, who had the art of completely disguising his
person, felt no fear of returning to Venice.
Years rolled on. By intrigues, wealth, and influence, Pas-
sarini became a member of the Council of Forty, and, in
process of time, succeeded in becoming one of the ten rulers of
the republic. During this lapse of years, his vengeance,
though it slumbered, was unappeased. His victim was beyond
his reach. To have the merchant Alviano assassinated would,
the Count Passarini thought, be a poor revenge. He sighed
for a deeper and more lasting vengeance. At length, after
twenty years of absence, Alviano returned to Venice, the pos-
sessor of immense wealth, and the father of an only and dearly-
cherished daughter.
 How, then, whispered the proud ruler of the Venetians,
 my hour is come.
"And mine, said Mussato, to whom he spoke, raising the
red wig he wore from his brow, and showing the brand of
St. Mark upon his forehead.
It required but little ingenuity, in one possessing such
immense power as that of Passarini, to bring about the ruin of
his victim.
At the period of Alviano's return to Venice, Passarini was a
widower, with an only son. His object was, not only to deprive
Alviano of his wealth, but also to tear from him his child, to
rob him of his good name—get him banished Venice, and then
leave him to the merciless hatred of Guido Mussato.
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORTTS.
199
We have seen how Mussato, thoroughly disguised, was placed
as a secretary in the mansion of the Signor Alviano. The rest
was easy: first it was discovered that Alviano still cor-
responded with the Greeks (while strictly prohibited by the
senate), also with a merchant in Genoa. This correspondence
was carried on solely in the earnest desire of discovering the
fate of Paoli. Then it was ascertained that the merchant had
lodged the greater portion of his wealth in the great bank of
St. George, in Pisa, preparatory to quitting the Venetian
territory for ever. Mussato, an adept in counterfeiting hand-
writing, forged various letters and documents. When all was
ready Alviano was secretly denounced, and, in the dead of
night, Passarini had the merchant and his daughter seized,
and lodged in the dungeons of St. Mark.
After a most absurd mock trial, before Passarini and two
of his firm friends, Alviano was found guilty and banished.
Whatever property he possessed in the State was confiscated
But should his daughter accept the hand of a Venetian noble
or citizen, the property would, as an act of clemency, be
restored to her husband.
This was part of Passarini's projects, for he thought it quite
possible to make the daughter accept the hand of his own
son, and thus, while satisfying his vengeance, he should gratify
his grasping avarice.
CHAPTER XXXII.
THE DOOM OP THE SPY.
ar the iniquitous designs of Count Passarini prospered.
Through his machinations Bartolomeo Alviano, in his old age,
was stripped of his wealth and banished with the stigma of
traitor attached to his name. But the last act of the tragedy
was yet to be performed before the count could say he was
sufficiently revenged. He had yet to deprive Alviano of his
only .child—to wed her to his only son—and then, by his
power and treachery, claim the confiscated property of his
victim, as well as the immense sums Alviano possessed in the
banks of Florence and Pisa ; for well he knew the fate in
store for the banished man consigned to the mercy of his vil-
lanous associate Guido Mussato.
After sentence had been passed upon Alviano, Passarini
easily obtained the control over the persons of himself and
daughter. The unfortunate merchant remained a prisoner in
the damp cells of the prison, while the distracted child, torn
from her parent's arms, was closely confined in a remote
chamber of the Passarini Palace. In vain the Marchese
200
THE SUNNY SOUTH J OR,
Tiepolo, before he quitted Venice, exerted himself to discover
whether his unfortunate relatives had really fled or still
lingered in the dungeons of St. Mark. But Passarini's power
and artifices baffled every effort. Aware of the sentence
passed upon her father, Agnes did not feel its full bitterness
till torn from his arms and conveyed to the chamber assigned
to her.
In vain the distracted maiden implored permission to follow
her beloved and heart-broken father into exile. No other
answer was given to her tears and prayers than that, if she
consented to marry a citizen of Venice, the property of her
father would be restored to her, and probably she might then
be allowed to correspond with her parent in his place of
exile.
"Never, never, exclaimed Agnes, wringing her hands pas-
sionately,  shall hand of mine be joined to that of a citizen of
this unjust and cruel government.
Alviano, when too late, discovered that in Luigi Passarini
he beheld the assassin Andrea ; and in Tomaso Mocenego the
branded Guido Mussato, the galley-slave.
 Why not, father, exclaimed Agnes, when first he informed
her of his discovery,  why not expose these villains to those
who will judge you 1 Surely there must be some justice even
in Venice.
 Justice, my child ! bitterly exclaimed the prisoner
 there can be no justice when your enemy is one of the
mysterious rulers of Venice. My trial will be only a mockery j
my accuser, my judge, and examiner, will be Andrea Passa-
rini. My voice will be silenced, and my words and actions
misrepresented. No, no; better let the villain suppose I know
him only as Luigi Passarini.
About a week after the sentence of banishment was pro-
nounced against Alviano, Count Luigi Passarini entered the
chamber where Agnes was kept a close prisoner. The unfor-
tunate maiden shuddered when she beheld her father's bitter
and unrelenting persecutor enter the room and close the door.
But, summoning the native dignity of her character, she ap-
peared, as the Venetian bent his keen glance upon her pale
but still lovely features, prepared to dare the worst his malice
could project.
"Lady, said the count, speaking in a low but marked
tone,  I have left you a week to decide upon the choice
which the clemency of your father's judges has left to you. I
now wish to learn whether you will accept the hand of a
citizen of Venice, or follow him into exile. By uniting your-
self to a Venetian, your father's property will be restored.
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
201
 Signer, interrupted the maiden, joyfully,  there is no
need of further delay. My mind has been made up from the
first, and with my whole heart I thank those whose decree
has permitted me to accompany my beloved father into banisb-
ment. As to his wealth, they are most heartily welcome to it.,
I covet none of it.
 So I surmised, signora, coldly returned the count, with
a sinister smile.  But circumstances have occurred since
that choice was left you which materially alter the case.
That you despise wealth I can very readily imagine. Had you
accepted a noble Venetian for a husband I would have re-
inainea silent. How I can no longer do so. Since your
father's sentence of banishment was pronounced, facts have
come to light that place his life in peril.
 My father's life in danger ! exclaimed the maiden, start-
ing to her feet, her face pale as death, but her eyes sparkling
with indignation and terror.  What can you mean ? Surely
you would not revoke your sentence, and take an old and, as
you well know, an innocent man's life. Ho, Count Passarini,
I understand you well, bitterly continued the maiden, as
her gaze met the malicious glance of the councillor.  This is
a mere threat of yours, but you shall not triumph. I know
you, Andrea Passarini, cold-blooded poisoner as you are,
and sooner than wed one connected by blood with you,
the destroyer of my father, I would joyfully perish at the
stake.
Passarini turned deadly pale as the excited maiden spoke,
and returned his astounded gaze with an unshrinking look.
"Ha ! you say you know me !  burst from his lips, as he
advanced, and, with rage and hatred flashing from his eyes,
seized her fiercely by the arm.  But you are mistaken, proud,
foolish girl! You have yet to know me, and to tremble at my
hatred and my vengeance ! 
So saying, in a cruel and cowardly rage he threw from him
the fair girl, who fell prostrate upon the floor. Casting on her
a malicious look, he continued,—
 You have gained a knowledge you will dearly rue. Mark
me, girl ! You shall mate with the lowest ruffian in Venice,
the scum of this city, the slave of a vile outcast. Your
father 
 Oh, God ! my beloved father ! ejaculated Agnes.  I am
mad—I have been mad ! Oh, spare my father !  And the
wretched girl strove to rise, but he spurned her and left the
chamber, livid with rage and hatred.
Turning the key in the door, the count strode along the
corridor till he reached his own private chamber. He then
202
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OB,
summoned Mussato to his presence ; but, before his vile asso-
ciate entered the room, the count had, to a certain degree,
mastered his passion.
 It is time, said the councillor of San Marco, as he paced
the chamber,  to bring this long-postponed business to an
end.
"Signor, I am ready, returned the ruffian. "No child
ever longed for a gilded bauble more than I languish till my
dagger drinks the blood of him who has left the brand of San
Marco upon my brow.
 To all appearance, the sentence passed upon Alviano must
be strictly carried out, said the count.  The girl is obsti-
nate, and has sealed her own doom.
The leaden eye of Mussato for a second was lit up with a
singular expression.
 A litter and escort, resumed Passarini,  will be provided
to convey father and daughter to the great boundary-stone on
the margin of the Paduan marsh. The gondola of St. Mark
will convey them across the lagune. Now, mark how you are
to proceed. Six selected men will attend you, and you must
folffiw the escort at a moderate distance. As soon as the father
and daughter are left alone in that desolate spot, ride up and
take the girl under your charge. You need no instructions
with regard to the father. . I leave him, he added, with the
look of a fiend,  to your tender care. He knows me already;
perhaps you will enlighten him as regards your own identity.
Carry the girl to my castle at Poliverra, and consign her to
the custody of Jacopo Yernie ; he will know what to do, as
my messenger will reach him before you. And now, Guido
Mussato, it were as well, as our purpose is brought to a close,
that you return no more to Venice. You are amply provided
for, and you know our compact. The world is a wide one;
and, with all your skill and art in disguise, you might yet be
discovered in Venice. You will breathe freer beyond the
atmosphere of the lagunes.
 You shall be obeyed to the letter, my lord, replied Mus-
sato, humbly ; and, with a servile bow, he quitted the chamber.
As he closed the door, he muttered to himself,  The count is
right. Being no longer useful, I become dangerous ; and I
begin to think it is perilous to have a Member of the Council
of Ten for a master ! 
Mussato was no sooner gone than the count drew a sheet of
paper from his escritoire, and wrote two lines upon it, signed
it, and directed it to his chatelain, Jacopo Vernie. As he did
so, he muttered, half aloud, and with a mocking laugh,—■
 This will effectually provide for my worthy friend Mus-
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
203
sato. JTwere dangerous for his safety to permit him any
longer to remain at large.
An hour after, a courier left Venice for the count's castle at
Poliverra; and early the following morning a gondola, im-
pelled by six oars, shot out from the Piazza San Marco,
coming forth from the deep arch which was well known to lead
to the dungeons beneath the ducal palace. The men pulled
rapidly into the lagune, and took the leading canal in the
direction of the mouth of the Brenta. It was a dull, dreary
morning : a thick, grey vapour lay motionless, for want of
wind, upon the sluggish waters, shrouding all the grandeur
and beauty of that strange sea-built city, and wrapping every
object in its chill embrace.
After some few mistakes, owing to the fog, the gondola's
keel grated on the soft sand of the beach.
About fifty paces from the strand, on a slight elevation,
stood a large building, with open sheds encircling it on three
sides. From those sheds, as soon as the boat touched the
beach, there issued a horse litter, attended by eight or ten
armed troopers, with the badge of the Venetian republic on
their bannerols. From the gondola then stepped out on the
beach a signor enveloped in a mautle, followed by a young
female, who tenderly supported the somewhat feeble steps of
the signor, who appeared exhausted and weak, more by suffer-
ings than age, though he was advanced in life. The two
strangers were then placed in the litter, the curtains drawn,
and, surrounded by the men-at-arms, the cortege proceeded as
rapidly as that mode of conveyance could accomplish.
The signor within the litter was the merchant Alviano, and
the lady was his daughter, who, in her heart of hearts, exulted
as she threw back a glance, on entering the litter, at the
slumbering waters of the lagune, hoping and praying she
might never again be borne upon its treacherous surface.
After about two hours' travelling, the escort and the litter
halted where three roads met, in as dismal a spot as ever tra-
veller's eye rested upon in the territories of Venice. The
place was a vast swamp, or marsh, formed by the overflowings
of the Brenta and other streams. The officer commanding
the escort ordered a halt: and then the merchant and his
daughter were desired to alight. This they did without a word.
The Venetian pointed to a vast mass of rough stone built
in the form of a pyramid. On the flat side, prepared for the
purpose, was rudely sculptured the arms of the Venetian
republic, and the date, 1156. Then followed the Doge's name,
Vitale Michaeli, who, by the way, was one of the many rulers
of the State who had been massacred.
204
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
 Hero is the boundary, said the officer.  That road, he
continued,  leads to Padua ; and that, pointing to a dan-
gerous looking narrow path,  to Polo, a village a league
distant, and where, no doubt, you will find shelter.
Without another word he remounted, and, giving the signal
to his men, they rode briskly away, and were immediately
lost in the mist.
The daughter threw herself into her father's arms, and burst
into a flood of tears—not tears forced from her by despair, but
by joy, intense joy, that her beloved parent was locked in her
arms, free, unshackled, and breathing no longer the foul air of
a dungeon with the prospect of torture or death.
 My beloved child, exclaimed the father, as he pressed her
to his heart,  how grateful ought I to feel towards the Divine
Power that has not only spared my life but restored me my
child.
"Ah !  exclaimed Agnes,  we are now together. Let us
forget the past. But come, father, let us move on from this
dreary swamp. We shall arrive, perhaps, at some friendly
cottage, where we can rest for the night.
As the fair girl spoke, the tramp of horses' feet was heard,
sounding dull and heavy on the turf-like soil.
 Some travellers, said the Signor Alviano, as Agnes caught
her father's arm in an agitated manner, and strove to gaze
through the fog in the direction of the sound. Then ensued the
jingle of arms; and the next moment six horsemen, with a
masked rider leading, came rapidly into view.
With a cry of terror Agnes grasped her sire's arm, as the man
in the mask alighted from his horse ; and throwing the visor
from him, revealed to the horror-stricken father and daughter
the features of him they had known as Mocenego the spy.
"So, Signor Alviano, you supposed you had escaped the toils
so skilfully spread to ensnare you 1 With Andrea Passarini
you have done. But, he added, as he strode close up to the
paralyzed father and child,  you have not yet settled with
me.
 Villain ! treacherous spy of an accursed power that God
will yet root from the face of the earth ! what have I to say
to thee ? Have you not forged, and lied, and perjured your-
self a thousand times over 1 Have you not for gold sold your
body and soul ? Villain! what more do you want with
me ? 
And the old man drew his emaciated form upright. With
one arm encircling his child, he repelled with the other the
approach of the wretch, who gazed upon him with eyes spark-
ling with the rancorous hatred of his wicked heart.
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHOEDS.
205
Uttering a laugh of fierce mockery, the villain repeated,—
 What want I with you 1 Oh, foolish old man ! and so you
knew me not, and thought I bartered body and soul for gold.
No, dreamer, know me better.
And dashing his low beaver to the ground, he raised from
his forehead the false hair he wore, and rubbed his hands
violently across his face. He then fixed his gaze upon the
merchant.
"Mussato ! Guido Mussato, the poisoner and assassin! 
slowly burst from the pale lips of Alviano ; while Agnes, with
flashing eyes and erect form, stepped between her sire and his
deadly enemy.
"Man! ejaculated she, "you dare not touch my father.
Stand back ! we are no longer 
 Away, girl, interrupted Mussato, catching Agnes by the
arm, and rudely pushing her towards two of the men, whom he
motioned to draw near.  You will be provided for. My
vengeance has now to be satisfied.
And drawing forth a stiletto, he advanced upon Alviano.
With a wild shriek that rang through the still air, Agnes
burst from the hold of the men, and threw herself upon the
villain, holding his arm as he was about to strike her parent,
with a force that, for the moment, baffled him.
At that critical instant the notes of a bugle came loudly and
clearly upon the air, and soon the tramp of horses was audible.
Mussato struggled and shook the maiden from him ; but as
he did so he slipped, and again Agnes seized his arm ; while
the attendants, startled and alarmed, unsheathed their swords,
and sought to remount their horses. The next instant, burst-
ing through the fog, some twenty mailed riders spurred into
the space. Their leader, at a glance, saw how opportune was
his arrival—for Mussato had dashed Agnes to the ground and
held the struggling Alviano in his grasp, having his dagger
raised to strike, when a blow from the butt of a lance smote
the villain to the earth, and released the overpowered mer-
chant from his grasp.
 Ha, by St. Mark ! exclaimed the leader of the horsemen,
 I am in the nick of time ! Corpo di Bacco ! this dense fog
had nearly ruined all.
Springing from his horse, he raised Agnes in his arms,
Alviano sank on his knees beside his child, kissing her
cold forehead, while tears fell fast down his emaciated
cheek.
Agnes shuddered. She opened her eyes, and they rested
upon those of the stranger. With a cry of joy, she overcame
her weakness, and seized the hand that supported her, saying,
206
The sunnt south ; or,
 Oh, father, beloved father, we are saved ! Look ! Do yotl
not recognize our deliverer % 
The old man looked up ; and then he beheld the well-re-
membered features of Count Michaello Steno, looking down
upon his daughter with deep emotion.
While this recognition took place, the armed riders had
coolly surrounded and disarmed the six attendants of Mus-
sato, who, as he recovered his recollection, found himself held
by two of the armed men.
"Dear lady, said Steno, tenderly supporting Agnes,
"I was but just in time. Five minutes later, and I should
never have forgiven myself. But in truth, Alviano, he
continued, pressing the old man's hand, "this dense fog
misled us. But now, no matter. Hay, he added,, smiling,
 explanations will come time enough. Here is a litter.
And he led his liberated • friends towards a horse-litter
which had just that moment arrived.  Let me see you both
in, and then I will settle my account with that most accursed
villain 
Agnes cast an imploring look at the count, saying,  Leave
him, count, to the judgment of God. His punishment will
surely follow.
"True, dear Agnes, calmly, though firmly, returned the
count;  but, before that, this reptile may do further miscihief.
His time is come ! 
Father and daughter looked at each other. The old man,
regardless of all he had suffered from the villany of Mussato,
strove to induce the count to leave the wretch to the punish-
ment of his own conscience.
 My dear friend, said Steno, drawing the curtains of the
litter,  that miscreant must no longer burden the earth. He
would never rest'—'for the devil has full possession of his heart
—and were I to spare him, he would track us like a hound,
and never cease till he had satiated his vengeance on you or
yours. Me he has deeply injured.
Closing the curtain, he motioned to the conductors to move
on. As the litter became lost in the mist, Count Steno
advanced to where his armed men held the prisoners.
Mussato stood with livid and ghastly face and eyes glazed
and sunken. Terrible was the agony of his guilty soul, now
that the hour of retribution had arrived. Fie knew the cha-
racter of Count Steno too well to doubt for a moment the
doom that was before him.
Close by the side of the road stood a decayed elm, stretch-
ing its withered branches over the dark, discoloured water
beneath. Steno's eye rested upon this tree as he advanced
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
207
then, facing the miserable Mussato, he fixed his stern glance
upon him.
 Most infernal villain!  said the Count,  if ever a prayer
passed your lips, say one now. I give you three minutes ;
after which you die—die like a dog, suspended from yon
branch. The dark flood beneath will hold under its waters
your vile carcase.
 My lord, exclaimed one of Mussato's attendants, bolder
than the rest,  that signor, pointing to Mussato,  is the
Count Passarini's confidential secretary. And if
 Ha, rascal ! returned the count,  keep your tongue
quiet. Thank your stars that I want not to meddle with your
worthless lives. Cowardly reptiles you are, and richly deserve
the whip to your backs, to stand by as you did and see an
innocent girl insulted and an old man nearly slain by this
miserable wretch. Up with him! Let his polluted soul
become the prize of the arch fiend that pants for it ! 
The next instant Mussato swung from the branch of the
elm, two of the men having passed their long horse-ropes over
the branch.
One agonizing cry escaped the lips of the sinner. In a few
minutes more the rope was cut, and the body fell with a heavy
splash into the water beneath, which the next instant closed
over it. A wide circle marked the spot, and then the troubled
surface grew calm.
A smart breeze now arose, and then the fog began to move
sluggishly from the face of the land ; and as Count Steno
ordered the men to be released, and threw himself on his horse,
the sun broke through the misty vapour, casting its misty rays
over the swamp, and giving life and cheerfulness to the before
dreary scene; for, beyond the marsh, the green woods of Polo
and Antoli, and the green pasture lands bordering the
Paduan territory on one side, were distinctly visible.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
EXPLANATION.
We have, as briefly as possible, laid before our readers the
causes and the means through which the ruin of the Alviano
family was effected. Perhaps it might be thought that too
great a liberty has been taken with the government of Venice
at that period • and that the confiscation of property and con-
demnation to banishment of a man perfectly innocent of crime
must be improbable. But so to conclude would be wrong. The
reader of Venetian history will find, in almost every chapter,
cases similar, as far as innocence is concerned, but far more
208
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OS,
terrible in judgment and punishment. We mention three Or
four, probably well known to some readers : such as the deep
tragedy of the two Foscari; the fearful persecution of the
Carrara ; the torture and death that followed the conspiracy of
Cueva, when numbers, perfectly innocent, perished, being hung
on the red columns or drowned in the lagunes. Of a tribunal
whose chief elements were secrecy and terror, little that is posi-
tively authentic is known. The penalties which this tribunal
inflicted were left entirely to themselves, and often extended
to death, either by secret or public execution. Their dungeons
were under leaden roofs, or beneath the level of the canals. As
a clever writer of Venetian history says :—
 Never did the principle of ill establish so free a traffic for
the interchange of crime, so unrestricted a mart in which man-
kind might barter their iniquity. The statutes of the Vene-
tian Inquisition of State, now exposed to the general eye,
exceed every other product of human wickedness, in preme-
ditated, deliberate, systematic, unmixed, undissembled, flagi-
tiousness.''
Steno had long been aware that he was looked upon with
suspicion, and that the family of the late Doge and that of his
widow were secretly determined on his ruin. The count fotihd
it would be a vain struggle on his part ; for some time back he
had carried on a correspondence with his relative, the Lord of
Padua, who, though seemingly in intimate alliance with Venice,
secretly favoured the views of Louis of Hungary. In one of
Carrara's letters to Steno he strongly advised him quietly to
leave Venice, for he had certain information that his (Count
Steno's) destruction was planned.
Steno deliberated but a very short time. He was not a
man of much property in Venice ; but he inherited from his
mother's uncle a very har.dsome estate near to the Lake of
Garda, and the very large fortune he received with his wife was
secretly invested in other states. This was the grand point
to which Count Steno was to owe his downfall. But, encouraged
by the earnest entreaties of his wife, who trembled at the crisis
she perceived was rapidly approaching, Count Steno suddenly
withdrew from Venice, and giving out that he had retired into
the Roman States, quietly took possession of the noble castle he
possessed near Garda.
The Marchese Tiepolo, as we have seen, disgusted by the
treachery exercised against his relative Alviano, and also
aware that even he was looked upon with distrust, quitted
Venice, and for some short time remained at Padua, but finally
purchased a fine property within a verv short distance of his
son-in-law.
the battle on the bosphorus.
209
The tender-hearted Paulina never ceased to mourn over the
loss of her beloved Agnes, and implored Count Steno, who pos-
sessed secret means of knowing how affairs went on in Venice,
to exert himself, and, if possible, discover whether Alviano
and his daughter still lingered in the dungeons.of St. Mark;
if not, to trace whither they had gone.
With all his early faults, Steno had a truly generous heart.
He faithfully promised Paulina not to rest till some intelli-
gence of Alviano or his child should be obtained. Amongst
the officials and jailers of San Marco were two men who owed,
not only their lives, but'their situations under the Government,
to the count. We do not, thank God ! always meet with ingra-
titude for favours conferred ; and these individuals were grate-
ful, even when it was no longer in the power of Count Steno
to befriend them. To these men he now applied, and through
ho less an agent than Caffagiola, the Venetian bravo.
At length, through the above instrumentality, Steno gained
an insight into Passarini's plans with respect to the Signor
Alviano : and, finally, he received a letter stating the hour
when Alviano and his daughter were to depart from Venice;
also the exact spot on which they were to be left.
The delight of Paulina knew no bounds.
We shall meer again, exclaimed the delighted girl,
tendering the count a thousand thanks for his successful
exertions.
' Still, Steno would, in the end, have arrived at the place much
too late, but for a letter, containing a few lines, and signed
 Caffagiola. The lines were as follow :—
,e The fate of Alviano and his child is sealed, unless you are
on the spot previous to their arrival at the boundary. They
are confided by Passarini to the care of that villain Guido
Mussato, known as Mocenego. Alviano dies by his dagger, and
his child's ruin is planned.
 Pail not, on your life.
 Caffagiola.
The kind-hearted Venetian conducted the now happy father
and daughter to his mansion on the Lake of Garda, where, in
peace and happiness, and in the society of her dearly-beloved
Paulina, Agnes Alviano was as happy as a heart still beating
fondly in memory of her lost lover would let her. She, never-
theless, did not abandon the hope that some tidings of him
would yet come to light; and, in that expectation, Alviano also
still corresponded with a merchant in Genoa, once settled in
Byzantium before the war broke out with Venice; for the
father of Agnes could not divest his mind of the idea that
Paoli was entrapped into the power of his bitter enemies the
o
210
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
Genoese. He also wrote letters to his bankers in Florence and
Pisa, with full instructions, in case the lost Paoli should make
his appearance there. Last of all, he sought out a trusty mes-
senger, who was sent with letters to his brother, the Marchese
Damari. In these letters he gave a brief outline of his rnisfor-
tunes, and expressed an ardent desire to return to his native
land, and dwell there in peace and tranquillity with his beloved
child, tie blessed that merciful Providence which had pre-
served his only child, when, apparently, no earthly power
could.
All these things being done, the Signor Alviano waited, in
tranquil happiness, the return of his messenger.
We will now, in our next chaplcr, return to Giacinto
Paoli.
CHAPTER XXXIY.
THE BRAYO.
Our hero, after the tragical termination of his adventure with
the Count Passarini, returned to the locanda, and made pre-
parations for quitting Venice the following evening. Juliano
was to hire a fishing-boat to take them to Chiozzi, and to sail
after sunset.
In thinking over the conversation he had had with Passarini,
he was fully inclined to credit what the count said with respect
to the banishment of Alviano, who, of course, was accompanied
by his daughter. If such was the case, intelligence would,
no doubt, be had of his residence from his bankers in Pisa.
Though Paoli had recently passed through that city, he had
made no inquiries ; for he fully expected to find the merchant
and his daughter in Venice.
The death of Passarini troubled the Corsican but little.
There was no question but that he had, all his life, been a bad
and vicious man ; and, in the last hour of his existence, he had
attempted assassination. Had the Corsican been aware of all
the crimes he had committed, he would have rejoiced that the
world was rid of so superlative a villain.
It was late on the following day when our hero awoke. In
fact, he was roused only by the hasty entrance of Pulini into
his room, and saw by his countenance that something unusual
disturbed him.
 What's in the wind now, my worthy squire ? demanded
Giacinto, as he quickly dressed himself.  I did not fall
asleep till dawn, and I see it must now be near mid-day! 
 I wish to heaven, signor, we had attempted to find our way
last night through the channel to Chiozzi.
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS. 211
 Why, what's the matter 1 One would think San Marco
had been swallowed by an earthquake.
 Would to St. Nicholas it was, signor, with every one of
its inmates, masked and unmasked ; though, for the matter of
that, every face in this infernal city wears a mask, whether
covered with black crape or not. A precious tumult there is
in the place! Groups of Venetians are talking eagerly on
every spot where a group can stand in this water-built "city.
Officials and soldiers are searching every house. All the
gondoliers and fishermen are stopped and examined. The fact
is, that the gondoliers of, you know who"—and even Pulini
looked round as if he expected to see an officer of St. Mark
standing at his elbow— have got back early this morning,
and related their story; and the whole of the magistrates^
from the Council of Ten down to a mere sbirri, are struck into
a heap with amazement and no little terror.
 Well, very coolly replied the Corsican,  that is only what
I expected. Of course, as soon as it was daylight they hailed
the first boat passing ; and what else but amazement must be
felt at the disappearance of a ruler of Venice, and in such a
mysterious way, for of course they have not found his body 1
We shall leave Venice to-night, and there will end your
troubles.
 By the mass, signor, you take it very easy. You may
depend on it that the officers of St. Mark will search every
locanda in the city. All foreigners are to be examined.
Should they take us—though no suspicion can be attached to
us'in reference to the disappearance of this cursed count—yet,
as men returned from banishment, they would think nothing
of hanging us from those infernal old columns. The count's
son, continued Pulini,  is frantic, they say. I heard several
Venetians conversing below with our host. They report every
gondolier and fisherman is to be examined as to where he
passed the night, and he will be forced to give proofs that he
speaks truth.
 Where is Juliano % demanded Paoli, anxiously.
 Gone to bed till night, signor. If we escape till dark, he
will have a boat at a certain spot, and will come here for us.
As to our host, he is in an agony for- 
At that moment the door slowly opened, and the round, bald
head and pale face of the Signor Servite showed itself. He
then entered and closed the door.
 Signor, signor, this is a frightful business! The officers
are searching every house for strangers and foreigners. They
will discover you, signor; and though innocent of this horrible
murder, you will be known as an exile returned without leave.
o 2
212
THE SUNNY SOUTH J OB,
The saints preserve us ! What's to be done1? They'd think
nothing of—Lord preserve us ! of hanging your worship.'
 Well, that would not be pleasant, certainly, my worthy
host, returned the Corsican, very coolly, though somewhat
puzzled to know what to do.  Have you no hiding-place in
this old mansion till night-fall 1 Juliano is going to hire a
boat to take us away this night, for I find I cannot do any-
thing further in the business that caused me to incur the risk
of coming here.'
 Yes, signor, I have a hiding-place, returned the landlord ;
 but it is a marvellously small closet, built into a thick wall.
You certainly, signor, cannot stand up in it.
 Corpo di Mondi /  exclaimed Pulini, eagerly,  never
mind that ; better to kneel in safety than hang by the
neck with plenty of room to kick your heels. Show us the
place.
 It's in this very room, signor, responded the host, rubbing
his hands,  and you couldn't find it if you tried.
 So much the better, amico, so much the better, returned
the squire.
With Pulini's assistance the host drew back the heavy
couch, and, moving aside the faded tapestry that hung round
the room, showed the knight and his squire a plain and appa-
rently solid wall of oak panels in squares. Pressing his heel
on what appeared to be the head of a bolt, he pressed inwards
with his hand one of the large squares, and Paoli observed a
narrow space cut out of the solid wall high enough for a man
of middle size, but considerably too low for the Corsican. It
would hold four or five persons, but had a very uninviting ap-
pearance. Paoli looked within, and perceived that air was
admitted from the top through a grating.
 Signor, said the host, with a sigh,  I had that very place
constructed to hide my poor brother in; and during two years,
at different periods, he successfully escaped all the efforts of
the sbirri of St. Mark to capture him. He had a wooden-leg,
signor. Hark ! exclaimed the landlord,  I hear some one
calling me. Put all your things in there in readiness. Let
the bed stand against the wall. This room is in a long corri-
dor with four doors. I will lock them all, for fear there might
be an officer below nowr. When you hear me unlocking the
door, if I do so twice, as if the bolt had slipped, get in there.
All you haveeto do is to press back the panel and it catches in
the spring.
 Signor Servite, exclaimed voices in the corridor,  you
are wanted. > ■
Away went the host.
THE BATTLE ON THE B0SPH0RUS.
213
 By the mass, signor, remarked Pulini,  he never told us
how to get out.
 Oh, as to that, remarked Paoli, laughing,  if there is no
other way, a blow will smash the panel. But let us put away
our mails and our swords, though, in truth, I do not admire
being caught like a rat in a hole.
However, through the management of their host, Paoli
and his squire remained throughout the day undisturbed.
The shades of night began to spread over the city.
The Signor Servite was amply rewarded by the Corsican
for his services and kindness. The night was not exactly
the kind of one to select for concealment, for it was bright
and clear. No moon threw her silvery light over the canals
and palaces of Venice, but millions of sparkling stars shed
a clear mild light upon all around, save where the dark
shadows of the stately palaces hid every object on which
they fell.
Juliano arrived at the appointed time, His manner was
hurried and agitated.
 Signor, said he,  lose not a moment, Something new
has occurred. A fresh set of officers are, at this moment,
making more strict investigations in all the locandas. I
greatly fear the possibility of passing out of the Grand
Canal without being questioned. You must submit' to be
covered over with nets and fishing gear.
 Lead on, Juliano, responded our hero.  We must trust
to Dame Fortune and our own wits.
After bidding adieu to the Signor Servite, who, in honesty
of heart, wished them every success in escaping, the worthy
landlord devoutly crossed himself, and muttered an  ave !"—
whether for his own escape or that of his guests must remain
a secret.
As they passed out they heard the voices of Juliano and
another man in angry conversation.
Paoli had nearly reached the destined spot appointed by
the gondolier, when an officer of St. Marco, followed by six
inferiors, ascended from a flight of steps, having just landed
from a gondola. It was utterly impossible to turn back ; for
they met face and face. Pulini whispered,—
 We are lost if we do not turn back.
 To do so would betray us, returned Paoli.  If they
accost us, say nothing. Let me speak. They can only know
that we are foreigners.
The next moment the chief officer stepped up to our hero,
and in a polite tone said,—
 You will excuse me, signor, if, in doing my duty, I delay
214
THE SUNNY SOUTH J OE,
you a short time. I must request you to answer one or two
questions.
 Well, sir, returned the knight, very calmly, hut politely,
 I shall be happy to answer any questions I think fit to reply
to. But I will thank you to be quick, as I have an appoint-
ment of consequence.
The officer, as he ran his eyes over the person of the knight,
critically and keenly, said,—
"You are a foreigner, signor, I perceive. May I request
your name and place of abode 1
jsj? Giacinto Paoli felt his cheek glow as he replied,—
"You must excuse my giving my name, but my place of
abocje is the ' Dalmatian Arms.' I could, if I pleased, give
you any name, but, for certain reasons, I wish to keep my own
secret, and scorn to give you a false one.
"Very well, signor, replied the officer, "I will not now
compel you to give your name ; but you! must return with
me to your locanda, as my directions are to place all foreigners
under strict surveillance for twenty-four hours.
As the officer turned to speak with one of his men, Pulini
whispered,—
 If you return, you are lost. Swim the canal, and make
your way to the Piazzetta San Marco. I will go for
Juliano. They will be so intent on you that I shall not be
minded.
 Will you be pleased to follow me 1 said the officer,
turning round, after motioning to his men to follow with
the gondola.
Giacinto made no reply; but moved on, rapidly revolving
in his own mind the advice of Pulini, and quickly concluding
that its adoption offered his only chance of escape.
There was no bridge across the narrow canal for near a
quarter of a mile, and before the boat could pull up he would
be across.
Unbuckling his sword, and casting off his mantle, he looked,
as well as the faint light would admit, along the opposite
causeway of the canal. Hot a human being appeared. There
was a flight of steps nearly opposite.
Having made those observations, he suddenly, to the amaze-
ment of his escort, dropped his cloak, took his sword between
his teeth, leaped in, and in a few moments, while the surprised
officers shouted for the gondola to row up, gained the steps
Having landed, he shook off some of the superfluous water thai
dripped from him, and then, without knowing whither he was
going, hurried along the causeway at a rapid pace.
Unfortunately the night-watch, consisting of three men
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORTTS.
215
were attracted by the shouts of the officers, and seeing our
hero hurrying along, hastened to oppose his passage. The
experiment proved a dangerous one to the foremost guard, for
a blow from the strong arm of the knight, who felt unwilling
to use his sword, struck the man down. Then, catching the
second in his grasp, he hurled him over the brink into the
canal. The third adopted the wisest course, and beat a retreat.
Turning into a narrow dismal-looking street, the fugitive's
path was suddenly barred by a tall, muffled figure, who, as
Paoli drew his sword, exclaimed,—
 Signor, follow me, or your life is not worth a ducat. This
causeway ends in a high impassable wall. I mean you well,
Signor Paoli. Hesitate, and you are lost.
 Lead on, then, ejaculated the knight;  my case admits
of no choice.
"You may safely trust me, signor ; follow ! 
And the stranger dived beneath a low dark archway.
Though the Corsican followed the stranger's quick steps
without any apparent reflection, such was not the case. In
moments of extreme danger, a resolute and determined mind
reflects rapidly. Paoli's situation was a very critical one.
To hesitate, was to fall into the hands of the officers of
St. Mark ; whereas, in following the stranger, who so singu-
larly recognized him, he calculated, if he proved false, he
would have but one to contend against.
Such being the decision of the knight, he dived beneath
the archway after the stranger, who pushed open a door at
the end of the avenue.
Paoli now observed that they were proceeding along one
of the narrow and broken causeways which, in the inferior
quarters of the city, ran along the sides of the narrow and
dirty canals intersecting that region. The locanda he had
left was situated in a retired and most unfashionable quarter
of the city ; and he perceived they were plunging amid the
narrow, dirty causeways of that part of Yenice inhabited
by the lowest order. Crossing several narrow bridges, and
passing only two or three individuals, his guide suddenly
emerged from a dark entry into an open space. One or two
stately but dilapidated edifices showed that this quarter,
though apparently but thinly inhabited, and only by the
poorer class, had once been tenanted by wealthy people. Into
the entry of one of those edifices his guide now entered,
desiring Paoli, in a low voice, to follow, and adding that their
place of safety was before them.
Wondering who his tall conductor might be, and how he
became so well acquainted with his name, our hero did as he
216
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
was bidden. A key was applied to a massive portal, and, the
door being thrown open, the fugitives entered the dark passage
within. The door was then closed and locked. Instinctively
Paoli laid his hand upon his sword, but a moment's reflection
drove all thoughts of treachery from his mind ; and the
unknown said, in a deep but not unpleasant voice,—
 You are now as safe, Signor Paoli, as if you stood upon
your native soil.
 It may be so, stranger, and I thank you for your good
services, which I trust to be able to reward ; but, per Bacco, I
should feel more at home with a foot upon the land of Corsica.
Can we have light 1
 In a moment, signor, and even a change of attire ; for, of
course, you are wet from heel to head.
 His guide then struck several distinct knocks against a
door, when a low and gentle voice, like that of a child, said,—
 Is that you, padre 1
 Are you asleep, my child, that you do not know my signal 1
Open.
Several well-oiled bolts were drawn back, and then Paoli's
guide pushed in the heavy door, and a faint light came from
within. They entered, and the knight cast a curious and
anxious gaze around. They were in a large and well-furnished
chamber, containing a bed in one corner. Sundry garments
hung along one wall, and weapons of various kinds orna-
mented another. A fire was smouldering on a once splendid
marble hearth; but what most attracted the Corsican was a
half-dressed boy, about eight or nine years of age. The child
turned his fine dark eyes anxiously and inquiringly upon Paoli,
who looked upon his mild countenance with singular interest.
"Throw on some wood, Guido, my boy, said the stranger.
 Put the lamp down and get thee to bed.
Then, taking off his heavy mantle, and laying aside his
slouched beaver, he turned round and faced the Corsican.
To Paoli he was an absolute stranger—apparently a man
between forty-five and fifty, with prominent and remarkable
features. He was rather handsome than otherwise ; but an air
of rooted sorrow seemed to be the perpetual expression that
sat upon his features.
 You had better take off your wet garments, Signor Paoli,
said the stranger, taking down a suit of plain attire, such as
were generally worn by thriving citizens.  You, perhaps, are
curious to know whom you are to trust; but I greatly fear my
name will not inspire confidence. Nevertheless, you need not
entertain any distrust. In Yenice I am known as Caffagiola
the Bravo.
the battle on the bosphorus-
217
Paoli looked fixedly and calmly in the face of this dreaded
\ individual; but betrayed neither surprise nor disgust.
I  Within the last few moments I suspected as much, re-
\turned our hero;  and rtow you have told me your name, which
I conjecture is only an assumed one, I feel even more con-
fidence in my safety.
 And yet, peturned the Bravo, with a melancholy, but
pleased smile,  I have, at different times, received some heavy
purses as bribes to take your life.
 By the mass, you surprise me, returned Paoli, very quietly
changing his garment.  I knew not I possessed so valuable a
life ; but, Caffagiola—if so I must style you—I am in extreme
anxiety concerning my squire, and a gondolier known to you,
one Juliano Yerbano. Can anything be done for them 1
 Juliano is my nephew, signor. Of him there is no fear.
To the safety of your squire I will look by-and-bye; but,
depend upon it, Juliano has taken him to his secure place of
refuge. Those garments, signor, I see were never intended for
a man of your stature ; but this fire will dry your own in a
very short time.
Seeing Paoli's attention caught by eight or ten poniards, of
antique and singular make, the bravo said,  you look doubt-
fully at those weapons, Signor Paoli. But, believe me, they
have never been stained by the blood of a fellow-creature while
in my possession. Signor, he added, in a deep and affecting
tone,  I have, in truth, been more sinned, against than sinning.
In one word, I will partly solve the riddle—but, alas ! there is
even more abhorrence in owning the designation I am about to
mention than in the name of Caffagiola the Bravo—1 am,
signor, spy op the Council op Ten.
CHAPTER XXXV.
the officer of st. mark.
When Caffagiola openly announced himself as a spy of the
Council of Ten, Giacinto Paoli started to his feet with a look
of utter disgust and even abhorrence fixed upon the striking
features of his preserver, who bore, without shrinking, the gaze
of the knight. His muscular figure was erect, and his dark
eyes met those of our hero with a steady look.  A spy!
echoed the Corsican ;  and of that iniquitous and cruel tri-
bunal! How is this 1 You have apparently saved my life,
and yet—if not a traitor to that accursed power you serve—
you perplex me.
 Because, signor, slowly and calmly replied the Bravo,
 you have yourself struck down the power that held me body
218
THE SUNNY SOUTH ? OR,
and soul. The chain is broken,1 he added, passionately, "that
for years held this body in thrall. Spy I was—Bravo also to
all who knew me not. But with the last breath of that fiend
Passarini perished the infamous titles'of bravo and spy.
And the broad chest of the man heaved with the deep
emotion that struggled within it.  Signor, he added, more
calmly,  call me no more Caffagiola the Bravo. The name I
bore in my youth was an honest though an humble one. I
resume it—for Passarini is dead. My name is Luca Mani-
festo.
 How know you that Pass'arini is no more ? demanded
Paoli, extremely astonished at the strange manner and im-
pressive words of his companion.
 Half an hour before I encountered you, signor, on the
causeway Lommelini, I beheld the body, stark and stiff, of him
that was once Count Luigi Passarini, one of the mighty Ten.
The corpse was found by some fishermen entangled in their
nets, near upon the adjoining islet. A deep fracture was on
the back of the head. When I beheld that man's lifeless body,
a thrill of wild joy shot through my heart—'for years of
bondage were broken—and I vowed, even at the sacrifice of my
life, that I would save him who had freed the earth of that
scourge. I was hastening to the ' Dalmatian Arms' to bring you
here, signor, when I so happily encountered you.
 You are nevertheless mistaken, Luca, calmly replied the
Corsican:  I was not the slayer of Passarini. It was the
hand of God. He thought to stab me, but the chain mail
beneath my garment frustrated him. You may see, pointing
to the steel shirt he had taken off, and which lay upon a chair,
 two links broken—for the assassin struck hard; In his haste
to step back, he fell forcibly against the sharp iron pin in his
own gondola, and, the boat heeling, he went overboard, and
sank, I suppose, from the blow rendering him senseless. But
you astonish me, continued Paoli. "How knew you that
I was in Venice, and that I was present at that man's
death V
"You wronged me, signor, returned the Bravo, "when
you supposed I thought your hand slew this councillor of
St. Mark. How he died I certainly did not know, further than
that he was found beneath the same waters to which his malice
and avarice have sent many a victim. I meant that you were,
without doubt, the cause of his death, let it happen how it
would ; for I knew that you, your squire, and Juliano, left
Venice for the purpose of forcing the count to declare what
was the fate of the Signor Alviano and his daughter. I kneWj
signor, you were in Venice two hours after your arrival here,
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORTTS.
219
1 You look astonished, Signor Paoli. Alas ! you forget I was a
spy of San Marco. As such, strange as it may appear to you,
nothing in Venice passed without my knowledge—hundreds
of spies are dispersed through the dwellings of the noble and
,the ignoble. Not a locanda in Venice is without its spy.
Honest Signor Servite little thinks that in his head domestic
he feeds a spy, an agent of mine—for all those of the locandas
communicate with me, and I communicated only with him
who now stands judged before his Maker. Your conversation
was overheard by Marco, the valet that served you under the
roof of Signor Servite ; and it was detailed to me too late,
Heaven be praised, to report that night. Twenty-four hours
were yet to run before my time came to meet Count Luigi;
and before twenty had expired he was dead, and I was free.
But, signor, there is yet much to be done. To the officers and
rulerS of Venice I am still Caffagiola, the bravo and spy. You
must trust me implicitly, signor ; for difficult will be the task
to clear you, myself, and your attendants of this cursed city.
I expect every moment, in this very chamber, an officer of
San Marco.
Paoli sprang to his feet, with an expression* on his coun-
tenance of distrust ; at least, the Bravo thought so—for he
continued, in a somewhat mournful tone of voice—■
 Fear not, signor ; you may trust me. Guido, my child,
quick, dress yourself.
Opening a cupboard, he took out a goblet and a flask of
wine.
 Take a glass of this, signor : no better in the ducal palace.
I must remove these things of yours, and then show you where
you are to retire while I receive the officer of St. Mark. My
child, my only tie on earth, goes with you. If you hear one
word that sounds like treachery to you, my child 
 Nay, man, interrupted Paoli, in a voice of great emotion,
 if thou wert ten thousand times my betrayer, not one hair
of that child would I hurt to save a dozen lives. No, Caffa-
giola, or Luca ; there is my hand. I freely trust you, and,
should we escape from this infernal city, demand of Paoli
aught in his power to do, and he will do it.
 I shall ask a favour, calmly, but with deep emotion, re-
turned the Bravo, pressing the manly hand extended to him ;
"not, signor, for myself, but— and he looked fondly and
devotedly towards the child, who had quickly dressed and come
towards them— but for him.
 I guess your wish, Luca, said the Corsican, tenderly
taking the child upon his knee. "Little Guido shall have
a second father in Giacinto Paoli.
220
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
The Bravo gazed for a second with delighted tenderness
upon his boy, who was looking, evidently pleased, into the
handsome and gentle countenance of the knight. Then, pass-
ing his large muscular hand across his eyes, he hastily turned,
removed the attire of Paoli, and locked it within a press.
Taking up the Corsican's sword, he said—
 Now, signor, for your hiding-place. The hour is come.
Advancing towards the panelled wall of the chamber, he
touched a secret spring : the panel flew back, revealing a neat
and commodious chamber, hung round with tapestry. A small
couch, a couple of chairs, and a table, were its furniture. On
the wall hung an exquisite image of our Saviour, beautifully
carved in ivory. On the table lay a large, handsome-bound
book and a wax candle. He had scarcely time to light this
when three distinct knocks were heard at the outward door.
Laying Paoli's sword on the table, Luca Manifesto, or the
Bravo, as we shall still call him, placed his finger on his lips,
and stepped without the panel, which slid noiselessly into its
place. The child, with its little finger to its mouth, sat down
on a stool at the feet of our hero, laying its head on the knee
of Paoli, who looked thoughtfully down upon the young face.
His mind was rambling into the past, and wondering who and
where was the mother of the fair boy before him, when heavy
steps in the outer room, and a rough, hearty voice speaking
to the Bravo, caused him to turn his thoughts into another
channel.
 Pleasantly employed, Caflagiola, said the officer of St.
Mark, evidently helping himself to the wine left on the table.
 Body of the Doge! Where do you get your wine 1 ^ It's
magnificent.
"You are welcome to as much as you can drink of it,
Jacomo, replied the Bravo.  As to its goodness, the cellars
of Count Passarini were always famous.
 Corpo di Bacco, you have lost a powerful protector, Caffa-
giola, returned the officer.  Nevertheless, you are in posses-
sion of so many of our rulers' secrets that you may be certain
of retaining your present situation undisturbed.
 But have you gained any intelligence, demanded the
Bravo,  as to the perpetrators of this strange and incredible
deed 1
 That's just what I am come about, returned the officer;
 but sit you down, and bring another flask, I have much to
say. Yes, he continued, after a moment's silence,  I have
discovered the murderer.
Paoli bit his lip.
 You will scarcely believe who it is/' pursued the officer.
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
221
 You remember that Corsican who was concerned in the
Faliero plot ? 
"Yes, replied the Bravo : "he was banished for three years.
And you suppose it was him 1
 Suppose ! There is no supposition in it. It's positive.
The fishermen have just brought in the missing gondola of the
count, which had drifted on to the shore beyond the Lido. In
the gondola was found the scabbard of a most weighty
sword.
Paoli recollected, the moment he had heard those words,
having missed his scabbard, but he thought it had fallen into
the lagune in stepping into the gondola.
 On this scabbard, continued the officer,  which was
brought to the dead count's son, is a golden circle, whereon are
engraved some strange characters. Underneath is a winged
horse, and under that, the single word—Paoli. Thus, you see,
Caffagiola, with all your penetration and all your power of
discovery, you were wrong. This Corsican, Paoli, is the man
who did the deed. Confess you have been baffled this time.
 Without a doubt, replied the Bravo. "And was it, think
you, in mere revenge for being banished from Yenice ? For
now, I recollect me, the dead count was the main cause of the
sentence of banishment being passed on him. ^
"No : the present Count Passarini says No. He is like one
demented ; he swears he will move heaven and earth but this
Corsican shall swing by the heels from the red columns, after
first having his bones broken on the rack. You know, Caffa-
giola, the dead count rarely forfeited his word in these trifles;
and, body of the saints ! I can declare—who am the confidant
of the son—he is no way behind his father. But I was saying
it was not for revenge for his banishment that this daring
foreigner committed this astounding crime.
 For what, then, in the name of St. Antonio 1 demanded
the Bravo.
"Why, because the count caused the banishment of the
wealthy merchant Alviano, to whose daughter this Corsican
was betrothed. You see, he lost the girl and the wealth of the
merchant.
"A very small portion of the wealth, Jacomo, replied the
Bravo ;  only the palace he had purchased from the Pisani,
and what it contained, and the sums owed him by the
Government.
 There is one thing, said the officer of St. Mark, putting
down his goblet with some force on the table,  that puzzles
me. There is treachery somewhere, that's certain. I was one
of the men chosen, with five others, by the count to follow,
222
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
■with Tomaso Mocenego, the escort that had charge of the
Signor Alviano and his daughter.
Hearing those Avords, the Corsican scarcely breathed. He
was about to move nearer the panel, fearing to lose a word;
but looking down, he saw that the child slept with his little
head resting on his knee. The man spoke on. He lost no
word that came from him, and what he did hear filled his
heart with joy.
 W ell, Caflagiola, they were left at the boundary-stone, and
the escort returned. "VYe then came up ; our orders were to
bring back the girl; for she, you know, the dead count in-
tended for his son. When, just as the maiden was separated
from her father—upon my conscience, Caffagiola, my heart re-
lented when I heard the shrieks of the poor girl—suddenly,
through the dense fog that lay upon the marsh so thick as al-
most to blind you, up rode a score of horsemen with a caveliero
at their head. The stranger struck down him who held the
girl, and she flew into her father's arms. But that which
strikes me with astonishment is, that Tomaso Mocenego was
actually about to assassinate the Signor Alviano, when the
stranger struck him down with the butt of his lance. Diavolo I
I thought all was up with us. But this stranger, whoever he
was, contented himself with hanging Tomaso to a branch of a
decayeu elm. He then placed the maiden and her father in a
litter which came with them ; and having released us, he rode
gaily off on the high road to Padua. Corpo di Juda ! The
whole thing is a mystery to me.
 Yes, Jocomo, and must remain so. It was one of the dead
count's secrets. But, as you say, there was evidently a be-
trayer of the count's plot. Tell me, for the night wears
apace, what are the young count's orders %
 Why, faith, Caffagiola, they were not either very polite or
very complimentary; and I felt rather loath to come with
them. Nevertheless, as you and I are old friends, and have
helped each other at a pinch—being, you know, not quite so
evil-minded as our masters—I give you a hint that this new
count is not quite satisfied with you. In his rage, he said you
were playing a double game ; or else this event could not
have taken place. He suspected that Paoli must have been
some time in Venice, unknown to you ; and bade me tell you,
he gives you eight and forty hours to find and deliver up this
Corsican ; or else—excuse me, amico—he swore you should
hang heels up from the red columns of St. Mark.
A loud and mocking laugh came to the ears of the listener,
as the Bravo replied—
 The young cock crows loud, Jacomo; but he gives plenty
the battle on the bosphokus.
223
of time. I promise you I will find this Corsican in less than
twenty-four hours.
 Benissimo, henissimo, returned the official. "Now come
to him ; for he insists on seeing you this night. All the passes
to these suburbs are strictly guarded. We know that the
Corsican swam the canal leading hither, and that he khoclced
down three or four of the nightguard. Body of me ! he is a
powerful man, and must be handled tenderly. But come along;
the flasks are empty, and we must be stirring.
After a moment or so, Paoli heard them move, from the
chamber, lock the door, and slam the heavy outer portal. All
then became silent throughout the mansion.
CHAPTER XXXYI.
. the three saints.
Fob. nearly an hour our hero sat with the young boy reclining,
fast asleep, in his arms, with a feeling of joy in his heart, to
which for many a weary month it had been a stranger.
"Thank God, he mentally exclaimed, "mybeloved Agnes
is alive, safe, and, undoubtedly, with friends. I haye at
length obtained the clue I so anxiously sought. This strange
being, to whom, certainly, I owe my life, may perhaps know
more. It strikes me he may even know this masked cavaliero,
and where my Agnes now is.
In the midst of a thousand delightful anticipations, the
child awoke, and lifting his expressive eyes to the face of the
Corsican, he smiled, and said—
 You are very kind to nurse Guido, signor. Have I slept
long 1 Ah, I see, father has not come back yet.
 No, my boy, he has not ; you have not slept very long.
But tell me, my poor child, are you often thus left alone to
your little self in this dismal old house 1
 Oh, no, returned the child.  I am not very often here ;
but only come now and then, to see my dear papa, who loves
me dearly.
 And where do you come from, Guido ?  questioned the
knight.
The child smiled, and, looking in the Corsican's face, said—
 That is one of papa's secrets, and Guido always does what
papa desires him, and he said—'Never tell strangers anything.'
But you look so handsome, and so kind, that I think—indeed,
I am sure—I might tell you.
"No, my child, said Paoli,  you must keep all papa's,com-
mands and wishes safe in your own little breast. You look
224
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
very sleepy, Guido. You must be tired. You shall go to
sleep upon yonder couch, and I will watch over you like
another papa.
Paoli persuaded the child to lie down, and covering him
over, he was soon asleep.
Our hero sat down at the table, fell into a perplexing train
of thought, and then insensibly into a deep slumber. He
must have slept two or three hours, for, when he awoke, the
grey dawn was stealing into the small chamber from a species
of skylight of stained glass in the ceiling of the room. As
Paoli awoke, he heard footsteps in the next chamber, and the
moment after the panel shot back, and Caffagiola entered.
His first glance was to the couch, on which still slumbered, in
all the calmness and innocence of childhood, his little boy.
A placid smile played over the Bravo's care worn features,
as he saw how carefully the child had been put to rest, and,
turning to Paoli, he said,—
 I fear, signor, you have found the hours pass heavily and
drearily. But I could not return sooner.
 Hay, replied the Corsican, cheerfully,  I slept well. The
intelligence I overheard from your friend, the officer of San
Marco, relieved my mind of a vast weight which has oppressed
me for many months.
 Yes, I can imagine the part you mean, responded Caffa-
giola.  I led to it purposely to relieve your mind, as I had
not time to impart anything to you myself concerning those
you risked your life to serve. But I have more to surprise
you still ; though, first of all, let me assure you of the safety
of your squire and Juliano. I saw them both, and told your
attendant, who was in a state of intense anxiety, that you
were out of the reach of persecution. I persuaded him to
remain where he was ; for he insisted on my taking him
to you.
 You have served me well and kindly, Luca, said Paoli.
 I trust the day will come when I may requite it. How fared
you with the young count 1
The Bravo smiled, saying,—
 His threats to me, signor, were the mere vapourings of an
angry boy. He has no power over me. I am still thought to
be the slave of the Ten Rulers of Yenice ; for the place of
Passarini is already filled by a near connection of the
Marchese Tiepolo. Still, our situation is critical; for the
most determined and vigorous search is making throughout
Venice for your person. There is not a chamber in the city
save this that could conceal you four hours. But come into
the other room, signor ; and, while you are breaking your fast,
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORTJS.
225
I will inform you of one or two circumstances that will sur-
prise you.
The Bravo then placed upon the table a very respectable
meal, consisting of cold fowls, tongues, and excellent wines.
Little Guido soon joined them, and already much taken with
the Corsican, would sit beside him.
 I have never, said the Bravo,  seen a victim hunted
by the bloodhounds of San Marco with fiercer hate than you
are sought after, signor. The death of Passarini has created
as great a sensation in Venice as when Ubertino Carrara seized
and gagged the senators, and carried them from Venice to his
own city of Padua. *
 But how, demanded our hero, somewhat anxiously,  can
we possibly baffle these bloodhounds 1 Even should I escape
I will make some effort to clear my name of the stigma of
murdering this Venetian senator.
 Had it not been for a fortunate coincidence, observed the
Bravo,  much time must have elapsed before I could have
effected your escape from this city. First, however, let me
impart agreeable intelligence. Last night you overheard our
conversation. You heard the official say that a masked cava-
liero released the Signor Alviano and his daughter from the
hands of that villain Guido Mussato, for that is or was his
real name, a branded galley slave.
 Yes, interrupted Paoli;  most eagerly do I wish to know
that generous cavaliero's name.
 You know him well, signor. Count Michaello Steno is the
noble who rescued the merchant and his daughter.
 Count Steno !  echoed Paoli, with a start of astonishment
and delight.  How on earth came Steno there ? I thought
he fled into the B-oman States.
"No, signor, he possesses in the Paduan States considerable
property, derived from his mother, who was one of the house
of Carrara. He was living :at Castle Baldo when I became
acquainted with the vile treachery intended for the Signor
Alviano's daughter. I sent him information of the plot; men-
tioned time and place ; and the count saved them. No doubt
at this moment they are safe and well under shelter of his
roof. At all events, from him you will gain every intelli-
gence, if we fortunately escape.
 You have preserved those dearer to me than life, Luca,
said our hero, with much emotion.  I will say nothing now.
Tell me, what is the coincidence upon which you count to
effect our escape.
* Historical fact.—See Muratori.
p
226
THE SUNNS' SOUTH ; OB,
 If anything for a moment, signor, diverts the attention of
the rulers of Venice from their mysterious policy, it is during
the few hours occupied in some empty pageant or idle pro-
cession. You will scarcely credit that so subtle and crafty a
government as Venice would not only sanction but actually
be the director and promoter of the absurd ceremony that
will take place to-morrow. Yet, strange to say, I myself was
in Venice at the identical period when this miracle, which I
am about to mention, took place. It is now twelve or thirteen
years ago, and I knew the man well who beheld the marvel.
Though he was an ignorant fisherman, his words were not only
believed by the rulers of Venice, but during his life he was
paid an annual pension ; and every year since, on the anni-
versary of that day, a most solemn and imposing procession
takes place. This man died about four years ago; and
probably more individuals attended Tomaso Marcello to his
last resting place than ever followed the funeral car of a Doge.
 You raise my curiosity, said Paoli, taking little Guido,
who looked as anxious for a story as any urchin of the nine-
teenth century, on his knee.
"Thirteen years ago, signor, resumed the Bravo, "the
waters of the lagune all of a sudden rose to a most unac-
countable height. No tradition existed of their having ever
reached within several feet of their then altitude. A tremen-
dous gale from the north-east drove them back for several
hours; but when it ceased they rose higher and higher. On
the second night of the flood the wind blew from the south ;
and on that night old Tomaso Marcello was fastening his
crazy boat for shelter close to the riva di San Marco. "While
so employed a figure approached him, and addressing him,
said, ' You shall be nobly rewarded if you will ferry me over
to San Giorgio Maggiori.' £ Diavolo ! ' muttered old Tomaso;
1 do you think me mad % do you not see what a night it is, and
the waters so high ? Now the saints forbid. It were sinful to
risk life.' ' Amico, said the stranger, mildly, ' your last ex-
clamation is good. But why use the name of the enemy of
mankind as the commencement of your remonstrance 1 Be
of good heart, friend. Unmoor your bark, and ferry me over.
The saints will protect you.'
 Old Tomaso grumbled, but nevertheless he released his
craft, and the stranger stepping on board, he pushed out into
the troubled waters. The old man was astonished at the ease
with which he pulled against the gale ; and to San Giorgio
they got safe and sound. ' Wait, arnico, and I will return
presently,' said the stranger, landing. In a few minutes he
returned, and with him another stranger. 'Friend,' said the
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
227
first stranger, ' row us now to San Nicolo di Lido.' Old Tomaso
dropped his oars on hearing what he considered a most insane
order on such a night; and the words cento diavolo were
escaping his lips, when, just in time, he thought the same
amount of saints better. He vowed his boat would never
live to cross the lagune. ' Old man, do as thou art bid. The
saints protect you, and you will be well rewarded.' Tomaso
crossed himself, cast one look at the troubled waters, and again
pulled out. San Nicolo was reached in safety, and there they
were joined by a third individual. ' Now, friend,' said the first
passenger, for he alone spoke, ' pull boldly for the two castles
of the Lido.'
 Though the waves ran high, old Tomaso said, in relating
his story, he never thought anything of them. He pulled away
vigorously, and just as they drew nigh to the straits, he beheld,
to his amazement and horror, a galley of immense size coming
towards them, bowling along the surface of the lagune, and
scarcely touching the white tops of the waves. The old man
swore that this vessel was manned by a legion of fiends, who
rent the air with their screams and yojls, shouting, at the same
time, that they were proceeding to sink the city of Yenice in
the waters that encircled her.
 The three strangers then stood up, each waving a huge cruci-
fix in the air. They repeated some unknown words, and suddenly,
with a terrific yell, and a sheet of fire illuminating the waters
all round, the galley and the fiends disappeared, and the water
became as calm as a mill-pool. 'Now, friend,' said the first
stranger, ' you may put us each ashore where you took us up.'
Tomaso crossed himself, took up his oars, and rowed to San Nicolo,
thence to San Giorgio, and, finally, landed his first passenger
where he had taken him in. The stranger was quietly walking
away, when Tomaso humbly observed—bowing to the ground—
that after all his night's work the sight of the miracle he had
seen was but indifferent pay, especially as he had a family to feed.
 ' You are right,' calmly returned the stranger, ' so it would
to you. Go, friend, to the Doge and to the procuratore, and
tell them that but for us three, Yenice would this night have
perished in the flood. I am St. Mark (Tomaso devoutly crossed
himself) ; my two companions were St. George and St. Nicholas.
Let the magistrates reward you. Also inform them that this
flood has been caused by a schoolmaster at San Felice, who was
mad enough to sell his soul to the enemy of mankind, and then
added to his guilt by hanging himself.' ' If I tell such a story
as this,' said Tomaso, who, by this time felt himself quite at
home with St. Mark, ' it is most probable they will hang
me. Neither the Doge nor the procuratore would believe me.'
p 2
228 THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
' Friend, thou art not -without -wit •,' and taldng a ring worth
five ducats, he gave it to the fisherman, saying,' Give this ring
to the magistrates. Tell them to look in my treasury—they
will find it missing.' Having thus said, the saint vanished.
"Tomaso found his way to the Doge next day. He related
his story, and gave the ring. St. Mark's treasury was searched ;
the fisherman's miracle being instantly authenticated, he was
endowed with a pension ; and an annual procession, on a mag-
nificent scale, was ordered to take place.
 Such, signor, is the origin of the grand procession that will
take place to-morrow, and which will be followed by all Venice,
high and low.
 I have no doubt, said Paoli,  that the fisherman acted
under the orders of the Government. It was a masterly stroke
of policy to redouble the faith of the people in their patron
saint, which, perhaps, began to waver—seeing that the flood did
not yield at once by prayers and offerings to St. Mark. But
how will that assist us 1
 Materially, signor. I was sent for last night, as you know,
by the young Count Passarini. At first he attempted to threaten
me for not having discovered you. I quietly informed him
that I now served another master—that I was still under the
protection of the rulers of Venice, and obeyed their orders;
still, it was my wish to serve him while obeying them. But I
had no fear of his power, which was as nothing when opposed
to the Council of Ten. 'But,' interrupted the count, though
in a milder tone, ' the slayer of my father will most probably
get to a place of safety in the confusion and disorder of the city
to-morrow during the procession, though I have surrounded
that part of the city where he must be hiding with a strong
force, who will examine every one leaving that quarter to-
morrow to join the procession.' ' I am aware, signor,' I quietly
replied, ' that he is in that quarter ; and I coulct almost swear
to the spot of his concealment. My reward from the council
will be great if I secure him.' ' I will double it, Caffagiola,'
exclaimed the young count, eagerly, 'if you secure him.' After
expressing my gratitude, I said, ' Rest satisfied, signor, he shall
be in my hands before twenty-four hours have passed, if he has
taken refuge in a certain locality where I strongly suspect he
will be found. But much caution will be required. You know
he is a powerful man—well armed ; and in the place of his
retreat are a set of the most desperate and abandoned cha-
racters, who are mostly robbers on the lagune. These fellows
may be bribed to take him across the lagune.' 'I have
thought of that also,' said the count. ' There are six channels
leading out of the lagune,' I remarked. ' You must station in
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHOfUJS.
229
all these channels a barge, with eight or ten of the police of
St. Mark in each. No boat to be allowed to pass for that day
without a countersign. Let that be "St. Nicolo di Lido.
Thus, if they do attempt to get out of the lagune, they will fall
into a trap.' The council will do this, for I mentioned that
that precaution was necessary during the ceremony of to-
morrow. 'But I am certain,' I continued, ' of entrapping him
before that. Send me to-morrow, to the canal beneath my
residence, two hours before the procession assembles, four of
the subordinate officers of the prison—they are under your
control as their chief. Let them be wrell armed, and in a gon-
dola, with four oarsmen ; and I promise you this Corsican
signor shall be in my power.'
 ' Your plan is a good one, Caffagiola,' said the count, and
shall be followed to the letter. Take this purse,'—giving me
this (and the Bravo drew one well filled from his pocket, and
cast it with an expression of disgust into an open chest near
him). None of these bribes do I ever spend, signor—they all
go into the hands of Padre Ignacio, for the benefit of the poor
and destitute. Another time I will explain all this—now to
let you fully into my mode of proceeding.
 To-night I will contrive to bring your squire and Juliano
here. The spies of the count pay no attention to those entering
this suburb—only those leaving it. Besides, I can bring them
by water to the entrance of the vaults leading into this ancient
mansion. To-morrow the count will send here four of the
officers under his charge. We must then seize and confine
them ; and, disguised in their garments, we m.ay boldly proceed
to the gondola they came in. Possessed of the countersign, we
shall pass, without question, the guard-boat leading to Chiozzi.
The men in the gondola will be under my orders, and will not
dare to question the reason of our proceeding to Chiozzi. I
shall then dismiss them with a note to the count, letting him
know where he will find his officers.
 Your plan has every appearance of proving successful, said
Paoli ;  for even supposing the countersign, by any chance,
should be changed in the boats guarding the channels, we
must force our passage. But what is to be done with little
Guido here % 
 I shall send him to his mother, signor, this night. Some
time to-day, if you will not consider it an intrusion, I will
briefly give you an outline of my life, which will explain to you
many things that now appear mysterious. I have said, signor,
that I ammoresinned against than sinning. Iprayyou to judge.
 Most willingly will I listen to you, Luca, replied Paoli,
for I feel singularly interested in your hard fate, condemned,
230
XUiiTSTTTTiN Y SOU Til J Oil,
as it appears you are, to bear the abhorrent stigma of an'
assassin's name, without possibility of casting it ofl till death
shall rid you of your tyrant.
 Otherwise, years, signor, might have passed, replied the
Bravo,  till perhaps despair would have raised my hand against
a life hateful to me to endure. In sooth, but for the soothing
reasonings of Padre Ignacio perhaps the crime would have
been committed.
The Bravo then proceeded to pack up some articles he wished
to take with him, and to destroy others. Finally, all being
ready, after preparing a repast for his guest, the Bravo, as the
day was yet young, sat down and related to Paoli the few but
dismal events of his early life.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
THE BKAVO'S STOUT.
 To avoid oppression, signor, began the Bravo, "I quitted my
native land, the valleys of the Tyrol. I was then two-and-twenty
years old. My occupation was that of a hunter. I had been
married some few months, and my spouse was the sister of
Juliano's mother. My wife was gifted with a fatal beauty. I
called it fatal, for it had been the cause of my crime, and of all
our sorrows. She was not only beautiful, signor, but had the
advantage of a convent education for her father was consi-
dered a tolerably rich landholder in those valleys. For a long
time he refused his consent to our marriage ; but the conduct
of our feudal lord gained me at last the hand of Mariana.
Even after marriage, this lord's persecutions continued ; he
endeavoured, and partly succeeded, in his vengeance, to ruin
my father-in-law ; so, to save him and my wife, I fled the val-
leys and mountains I loved so well. At the end of two years,
having spent most of my little store, we came to Venice. I
purchased a gondola, and strove to support my wife and our
two children. I did not like this occupation, and some time
after, notwithstanding the entreaties and tears of my beloved
wife, I shipped on board a galley as a soldier, and sailed with
the fleet upon an expedition against a revolted colony. We
were tempted into this expedition, which was not popular, by
promise of high pay and share of the plunder of Xara. The
war lasted two years ; and, being severely wounded, and unfit
for service for some time, I was sent back to Venice with
others. I was anxious enough to get home ; for I suffered from
my wounds. By the merest accident, I encountered a coun-
tryman, who informed me that my persecutor had been killed
in a boar hunt j and that my father-in-law was still in exist*
THE BATT1E ON THE BOSPHORUS.
231
ence, and well to do. This intelligence rejoiced me exceed-
ingly. I was yet young, only six-and-twenty, and my wife
scarcely twenty. I knew the delight she would "feel in return-
ing home to her native country.
 Before I left Yenice to go to the wars I had established
my wife and children in this very house—once a nobleman's.
But this quarter of the city had long been abandoned by the
better class of citizens ; and many of its mansions had sunk
into decay ; others were inhabited by the lower class of mecha-
nics, and, latterly, by those who shun the light of day.
 On landing in Yenice I eagerly sought my home. I walked
with difficulty, for one of my wounds was in the hip. I need
not describe my feelings to you, signor, when on reaching my
house I found it shut up. My neighbours, who had never
been friendly, informed me, and they spoke almost scoffingly,
that one of my children had died, my wife—merciful Heaven !
they dared to say so to my face—had fled with a paramour,
and that the other child, but for the generosity of the Mar-
chese Tiepolo, who owned this house, would have perished of
want.
 I leaned against the great pillars at the entrance of this
mansion, as if turned into stone. I had no power to move.
My neighbours, who looked upon me as a foreigner, left me
without even a word of pity. Slowly I recovered my recollec-
tions. Not for one instant, signor, did I believe the vile tale
of my neighbours. I knew my Mariana too well to doubt her
faith or her love. ' Here then again,' thought I, ' has her
beauty been our curse.'
The Bravo paused in his narrative ; and putting his hand
beneath his vest, he drew forth a miniature set in a plain
ivory circle.
"This resemblance of my wife, signor, was painted by a
skilful but unfortunate youth, who in vain struggled with
poverty and neglect, and died in a chamber in this house. I
found him sick and ill one evening in the streets, and brought
him here. He lived with us some months ; but he never could
overcome the disease that had taken such powerful hold of
him from his very infancy.
Paoli took the miniature ; it was, in truth, sweetly and deli-
cately painted ; and never, he confessed, not even excepting
his own betrothed, had he seen so lovely a face.
 In sooth, Luca, said he,  your Mariana was almost too
lovely. How came you, so devotedly attached, to leave one so
young and beautiful, and trust to the chances of war, when
you could have earned sufficient as a gondolier to ^support
you 1
232
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
 Alas, signor, the restlessness of the human race was strong
in me. You know not the life of excitement and peril the
Alpine hunter enjoys. From my earliest youth I gloried in
the perils of the chase. To follow the chamois and the grisly
bear amid the wild "crags and glaciers of our mountains was
my greatest delight. The monotonous life , of a gondolier on
these dismal canals disgusted me ; and, in a moment of weari-
ness, I sailed on that expedition, which I certainly did not
think would last beyond six months. But excuse this inter-
ruption—I will continue.
 As soon as I recovered from the shock, I proceeded to the
mansion of the Marchese Tiepolo, and saw that kind and noble
signor. He gave me the address of the family where he had
placed my little girl, and offered me every assistance ; but of
course could give me no clue to the fate of my unfortunate wife.
He pressed a purse into my hand, and said, in parting, that I must
let him know how I got on, and to apply to him if I gained any
tidings of my lost wife. ' You would be welcome,' he said, 'to
the mansion you formerly lived in ; but I have sold all my
holdings in that quarter of the city. The Count Passarini
purchased them, for what purpose I cannot conjecture, as they
all paid little or no rent.' I was bewildered, distracted, and
broken-hearted. I succeeded in renting my old habitation from
the Count Luigi's steward ; for I loved the chamber that once
held my wife. Before I could commence any inquiries I was
seized with a fever, and left to the care of a wretched old
woman, who neglected, and, finally, robbed and deserted me.
During four long months I lay, sometimes in possession of my
senses, at others raving like a maniac. At length my strong
constitution conquered, and I rose from my couch of pain,
gaunt and fearfully emaciated. I wandered out more like a
spectre than a human being. My long black hair hanging in
masses over my hollow cheeks, and my unshaven beard, gave
me so hideous an appearance that my neighbours laughed at
my ghastliness.
'' My wife had disappeared about four months before my
return. In vain I sought for some trace of her. No clue
whatever could I gain. Six months more passed, and I began
to despair. Tormented in mind and body, I earned but little
as a gondolier, for my spare, gaunt body and gloomy looks
lost me many customers. Strangers are not liked in Venice.
I was often told, in derision, to turn bravo, which, it was
added, would suit me better than a gondolier's occupation.
How little, signor, can man judge by looks of the heart of
his fellows ! At that period I would not have crushed a
worm.
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHOKTJS.
233
K One evening I had returned late from a wearisome pull to
Fu&ina, and was mooring my boat in the dirty and narrow canal
thai runs through this quarter of the city, when I was suddenly
accosted by a man wrapped in a long brown mantle, and a
beaver much slouched over his face. ' I say, amico, do you be-
long to this quarter V ' Yes,' I replied. ' Do you happen to
know,' continued the stranger, as I stooped to fasten my chain
and padlock, ' the house where one Luca Manifesto lives 1'
'Yes,' I returned, 'I know the house well—but'
'"Never mind buts, my man,' interrupted the stranger, 'if
you know the house that's everything. There, don't fasten
your boat. Keep her in readiness, and jou shall have a job
that will pay you well. Now come, and, first of all, point out
the house.' Giving a shrill whistle, three other men, habited
like the domestics of some lord, came out from the deep
shadow of one of the houses. My heart beat with intense
curiosity and anxiety. Here was some mystery with respect
to myself; perhaps some clue to Mariana. ' Cospetto, signor,'
I replied, unlocking my boat, ' I shall be glad of a job.
Times are bad. If you follow me I will show you the
house.'
 It was a dull, dark evening. I could not distinguish any of
the strangers' features, but I led the way. As I approached the
old palace which I occupied as a home, to my extreme astonish-
ment I perceived a light from a lower window. I never left a
light, my little girl being still with the same female who had
taken charge of her. I was annoyed, for I was the sole inhabi-
tant of the mansion. ' That is the house,' said I, ' where you
see the light.' ' Good,' said the man who had first accosted
me. 'There'searnest for you,'handing me a ducat. 'Go back
to your boat, and be ready to take us aboard when we return
to you.'
 I pretended to turn my back, but kept an eye on the move-
ments of the strangers. As soon as I beheld them enter the
passage, I stole after them, with strange thoughts flashing
through my brain. The two doors leading to my chambers
were both fastened ; no one but myself and my wife knew the
secret mode of entering the house, except the original owners ;
and death had claimed them long years back. The secret en-
trance was through the vaults. I stole quietly after the men,
and heard one of them say, ' The door is a very strong one—
the noise of bursting it open will alarm her, and her shrieks
may rouse the inhabitants of this desolate and notoriously evil
quarter of the city. I stayed to hear no more, for I felt in my
heart that these strangers spoke of my wife. Who else could
it be ?
234
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
 Wild with joy, fear, and anxiety, I rushed out of the pas-
sage, and flew rather than ran to the vaults ; and in despite of
blows and bruises, squeezed myself through the long, narrow
passage, and gained, through a secret trap-door, the interior of
the mansion. As I did so I heard the crashing of timber, as
if a mass of stone was hurled at the door ; and then a wild
shriek from a female voice. I rushed to the panel, pushed it
back, and leaped into the chamber. As I did so, the outward
door flew into fragments.
 Merciful Providence ! the first object my gaze rested upon
was my long-lost wife ! She stood in the middle of the room.
Her garments were torn, disordered, and covered with slime and
mud; her hair was dishevelled and hanging wildly about her;
her right hand grasped a knife. With a cry of intense joy she
recognised me ; and in a transport of feeling, threw herself,
almost senseless, into my arms. Clasping her to my heart, I
at once extinguished the light, and sprang with her through
the panel into another chamber. In my hasty entrance I had
jammed the frame. No effort could close it; and the next in-
stant the door was burst open, and the strangers, carrying a
lighted lantern, rushed in.
 My wife lay perfectly helpless. She appeared reduced
almost to a perfect skeleton—her weight was scarcely that of
a child. I hurried along ; but a loud shout announced pursuit
through the panel I could not close. Still, acquainted with the
vaults, I kept ahead of my pursuers ; but, as we emerged from
the vaults, the light of a torch flashed upon our persons, and
then in truth the race for life began. I rushed across the ruins
surrounding this mansion, and had nearly reached the brink
of the canal where my boat lay. It was the third night of the
memorable inundation, or rising of the lagune. The waters
had been rapidly falling. I reached my moorings, and was un-
fastening my boat; my wife, who was recovering the use of her
senses, gazed wildly round, warning me that two of my pursuers
were within a-few steps of us. The foremost at once grappled with
me. I let go my hold of Mariana, and catching him by the throat,
hurled him at my feet. The next instant I felt the point of a
stiletto strike into my side, but slightly. I caught the wrist
of the assassin as he was about to repeat it, and wresting it
from him in a transport of rage, I drove it to the hilt in his
heart. ' Oh ! villain, murderer ! you have slain the count,'
exclaimed the other, as if horror-stricken, and stooping to raise
the prostrate body. But I heeded him not; Mariana had
freed the boat; and, just as the others came up, I got her into
my gondola, and pulled off with all the force 1 was possessed
of. ' Oh ! Luca, Luca,' exclaimed my wife, 'pullfor the lagune.
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
235
W^ can never return to Venice.' As I rowed swiftly on through,
the Grand Canal, and thence into the broad waters, I eagerly
demanded of my wife who was the man whom they called
count, for I had slain him. ' Oh Heavens !' responded she,
' though he richly deserves his fate, would to God that you had
not slain him. It is the only son of the Marcliese Gradi-
negro.5 ' Gradinegro !' I repeated, ' then, indeed, there is no
safety for us within leagues of Venice.'
 Our situation, Signor Paoli, was truly a fearful one. I did
not possess four ducats in the world. The night was a stormy
one: the wind came in fresh gusts across the wide waters,
and I could hear the roar of the sea-surf as it beat furiously
against the barriers of the Lido. By keeping out of the deep
channels and inside the posts, I contrived to make way towards
Chiozzi, where I resolved to land, sell the boat, and fly into
Italy. The thought of my little girl distracted me ; but my
wife consoled me by saying, that when once beyond the terri-
tories of Venice it Avould not be difficult to get her back. It
blew so hard, and the night became so dark, that I fastened
my boat to one of the posts, and, covering my wife and self
with the awning which I had taken down, I waited till dawn.
Anxiously we passed the hours of darkness ; we cared neither
for the severity of the cold nor the splash of the short shallow
sea as it broke over our low bark, nor for the desolation or
poverty that was before us. One thought cheered us, and ren-
dered the dark hours of that gusty night the happiest we had
perhaps ever past. We were re-united when despair had seized
our hearts.
 My wife's story was soon told. Returning home late one
evening, after purchasing some necessaries, about four months
before my return from sea, she had just entered upon the waste
ground, when a mantle was thrown over her head, and drawn
tightly, almost to suffocation. She was then lifted up, and
placed in a boat. After half-an-hour's row, she was raised, but
nearly senseless, and carried, as well as her terror permitted her
to judge, into some mansion, and up several flights of stairs.
She was then conducted to a room. Wild with fright, my un-
fortunate wife looked around her. The persons who carried
her off quitted the room before she had power to lift the cloak
from her face, and she heard the door bolted and locked. The
room was evidently one belonging to a princely mansion, for
it was handsomely if not splendidly furnished ; but the
window, to which she first ran, was firmly secured with cross
iron bars.
"Not to weary you, signor, she had been torn from her home
by the orders of the Count Alberto Gradinegro, the most profli-
236
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
gate and abandoned libertine in Venice. At that period his
father was one of the Council of Ten. All Venice rang with
stories of that youth's vices and notorious cruelty; for he was
known to be as vindictive as he was dissolute. By an un-
fortunate chance, he had seen my wife purchasing something
on the Rialto; for he and his agents were perpetually prowling
the city for fresh victims to his accursed seductions. For nearly
a month he strove to win my luckless wife. Failing in this, he
proceeded to threats ; and one evening attempted to approach
her, when she snatched his jewelled poniard, and, in her passion,
wounded him severely. He retired, vowing, with frightful im-
precations, that, having scorned his love, she should try whether
his hate was easier to be borne.
 His vile agents soon made their appearance, and, binding
and gagging the wretched victim, confined her in one of the
damp vaults of the palace. There, that most inhuman monster
had the barbarity to leave her during six dreadful months ; and
there most probably she had died, like many of his victims, but
for the protecting hand of Providence. During the inunda-
tion, and when at its height, the water burst into most of the
lower vaults and cellars of Venice. Fortunately, the palace of
Gradinegro was built on a somewhat loftier mound than other
parts of the city; but, when at its greatest height, the flood
burst through the barriers opposed to it, and rushed furiously
into the vaults of the palace. Mariana thought her hour was
come ; and at first, when she heard the rush of the water, she
felt resigned to the will of Heaven, and was content that the
miserable remains of life still lingering in her wasted frame
should cease. But, signor, we all cling, no matter how wretched,
to existence, when the hour of extremity comes. Hope,
that blessed soother of our deepest misery, still sheds a ray,
and we struggle to preserve that which the moment before we
were willing to resign.
 Piling one on another every article the vault contained,
she contrived, by the light of her lamp, to reach a projection
near the roof, formed by a kind of buttress or square pillar.
Still, on came the rush of water, and she heard it burst against
the door, under which it forced its way with violence. At
length the door gave way with a crash, and a strong torrent
burst in. Rapidly, nay instantly, it filled the vault half way
up the wall. Higher and higher it rose. The heart of my
poor wife beat desperately, as she gazed, with the lamp in her
hand, upon the dark discoloured flood, which rose to her feet;
and then—oh, what a moment that was even for the stoutest
heart—it rested, remained stationary a short time, and then
rapidly began to fall. This sudden fall, signor, was caused by
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
237
the violemt gale from the north that set in after the southerly
wind had ceased. I was at Fusini at the time, wind-bound.
 As the waters fell, Mariana suddenly thought how she
could descend from her exalted situation; for the temporary
structure had been washed away. As the waters eddied round
the vault they washed the strong oak door towards her. On
this she had the courage to descend, and kept it stationary
beside the pillar. In three hours, as near as she could guess,
the water had entirely left the vault; and then a hope of es-
cape flashed through her mind. Her prison-door was gone ; the
flood had, doubtless, burst through every opposition. Un-
fortunately, her lamp was near its close ; her jailer, doubtless,
considered her to have perished.
 My wife was right ; by following the course of the receding
water, and by clambering up and squeezing through the broken
foundations of the palace, faint and almost exhausted, she gained
the outside of the building. It was then dark ; when, just as
she was preparing to fly along the narrow causeway that runs
along the back of the mansion, two of the domestics of the count
came to examine the damage done by the flood. One of them
held a torch ; and, as she passed, it flashed upon her emaciated
features. The man started with an exclamation of horror,
dropped the torch, and fled into the house. With infinite
difficulty, my wife contrived to reach our abode. Finding the
doors fast, and trembling with eagerness to know if I still
existed, and inhabited our home, she made her way through the
passage. Knowing where I placed everyhing, she struck a
light; and then threw herself exhausted upon the couch.
 Such, signor, was my wife's story. As day broke, the
violence of the wind abated ; and, seeing the marks, I steered
my barque for the tower of Chiozzi. But my wife was evidently
overcome by her sufferings ; and before we reached Chiozzi
she was in a high fever. As soon as the boat touched the beach
I procured assistance, and carried Mariana to a fisherman's
habitation, who kindly offered us shelter.
 I now gave myself up for lost. Not for a moment did I
think of quitting my unhappy wife, who, after eight days of
suffering, began to regain her health. I had already planned
our departure, and sold my boat, when I was seized, gagged,
forced into a gondola, and carried to Venice. Without ex-
amination of any sort, I was thrown into a cell into which the
light of day never penetrated, nor any other light, save the
momentary flash of the jailer's lamp.
 Signor, I will spare you the recital of my sufferings, my
insanity; for, in that accursed dungeon I lingered two wretched
years without hearing the human voice. If I loathed man-
238
THE SUNNY SOUTH; OR,
kind, signor, and panted for revenge upon my_ species, I am
surely to be pitied and excused. At the expiration of that
period I was taken from my dungeon and brought before three
of the Council. What I looked like, I know not; but, ac-
customed as the rulers of Venice are to look upon human
misery and degradation, they started as their eyes fell upon
my guant and emaciated frame. One of the councillors, a
man advanced in years, whispered something to his next neigh-
hour, and then they looked even more attentively at me.
"' You are brought here, Luca Manifesto, to receive sentence
of death for the crime of murder.'
 I burst into a fierce laugh, as I repeated the word death.
"' You have inflicted a thousand deaths, since I—'
"'Gag the prisoner,' said one of the signors, striking the
table forcibly with his hand.
 I was as weak as a chil d, or I would have braved death
then from the hands of the officials, who were about to gag me,
when a sign from one of the signors caused my removal and
return to my dungeon. About a fortnight after this I was
again taken from my cell, and conveyed to the same chamber,
wherein, at that tine, there was but one signor, attended by
a secretary, both masked.
"' Leave your prisoner,' said the councillor.
 And I was thus left alone with one of the Rulers of Venice
and his secretary.
 The long examination I underwent by this member of the
council it is needless, Signor Paoli, to tire you with. Sufficient
to say, he clearly proved to me that my sentence for killing
the young Gradinegro would be a cruel death. ' Now hear
me, and mark me well, Luca Manifesto,' said my judge. '1
offer you life and restoration to your wife and child on
certain conditions.' 'Name them, signor,'I eagerly exclaimed,
as my heart beat with intolerable anxiety.
 ' At this moment,' began the councillor, ' there exists in
Venice a secret and mysterious band of spies, agents of Uber-
tino Carrara. Assassination is almost of nightly occurrence.
Up to this moment these spies have baffled all attempts to
detect them. I have a project which I shall not now declare ;
but if you are wise and accept my terms, I intend to employ
you as my chief agent. You will be powerfully protected, and
well rewarded. But, in the first place, you must become pub-
licly known in Venice as a bravo.' 'A bravo!' I exclaimed,
with a start of horror. ' To. be pointed out as an assassin,
shunned, loathed, execrated ! Signor, I am ready to die.
Execute me ! It will be but one death ; but to be a bravo is
to die a thousand times.' 'Fool!' exclaimed my inquisitor,
THE BATTLE OK THE BOSBHORBS. 239
in a harsh, angry tone, 'Who requires you to he an assassin 1
'Tis but a name you will take to blind others. However, die
on the rack if it so please you, and leave your young wife and
child to rot in a loathsome dungeon.'
 Oh ! this was agony to my soul. ' Say, signor,' I franti-
cally demanded,' what am I to do in my character of bravo V
' What you will have to do,' replied the councillor, 'cannot be
told you. One tbing, however, is certain ; you will not be
required to shed the blood of your fellow-creatures; and,
moreover, your bondage shall cease, if it so please you, should
you outlive me.' Then, taking the mask from his face, I
beheld, with a start, Count Luigi Passarini, then only one of
the Council of Forty. ' Now, Luca Manifesto,' continued he, 'I
aspire to become one of the ten rulers of Venice; circum-
stances have given me the power to save your life and restore
you to your family. You shall reside in the house you have
always inhabited ; you shall also have numerous spies under
your control. The first thing to do will be to render your
name notorious, which, with my help and under my directions,
you will soon do.' Not to weary you, signor, I took the oath,
and a fearful one it was, to obey Count Luigi Passarini in all
things save in shedding blood.
 I was restored to my home, my wife, my child ; and then
began my career as a bravo. Several influential signors sud-
denly disappeared. They were, in fact, paid spies of the Car-
rara. Means were taken to have it secretly bruited through
Venice that they died by my dagger, vfhereas, alas ! they
rotted in the dungeons of San Marco. With the power I had,
and finding I was in reality at that period serving the State, I
actively entered into the plans of the count. All the spies of
Carrara were betrayed into the hands of the Government. I
had apprehended several minor bravoes, and, strange to say, I
actually lived a tolerated bravo in Venice, for almost every
one knew me. For four years I acted without my conscience
being severely tried. At length, however, Passarini gained his
end and became one of the dreaded Council of Ten. From that
hour my tormentor, for such the count became, never let me
have rest. During eight years I was the slave of that
man's ambition and avarice. With such a power as he then
wielded, he accomplished every scheme he planned. My soul
sickened at the deeds I was forced to commit, not of blood,
certainly, but of treachery and deceit.
 I mav not repeat all the crimes this man perpetrated.
Many a family were crushed that became obnoxious to him.
I tried secretly to save some of his victims, and sometimes sue-
ceeded. When he commenced his scheme against the families
240
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
of Alviano and Tiepolo, I vowed, even if I was discovered, to
endeavour to save the Marchese Tiepolo ; and he, by my means,
though he knew it not, defied Passarini. I often received
large bribes to remove a rival, or to assassinate various indi-
viduals. In such cases I gave in the name of the instigator
to assassination, and the person to be assassinated, and then
both disappeared. The would-be assassin paid fairly enough
for his intended crime by imprisonment, while the object of
his hate was allowed to fly into other lands. When Passarini
placed his confidential associate as the secretary of the Signor
Alviano, I was appointed nightly to watch his safe ingress and
egress from the palace of the count. One night I caught my
nephew Juliano tracking this man. I warned him of his dan-
ger in so doing. Nevertheless, the villain Mussato suspected
Juliano, and contrived that he should be seized at the very
time when the unfortunate Signor Alviano was hurried off to
the prisons of St. Mark. With much difficulty I procured his
release from Passarini. All the count's plans with respect to
the daughter of the Signor Alviano were known to me, and I
sent a trusty messenger to Count Steno warning him of the
fate intended for the Lady Agnes. It was well known to Pas-
sarini that Count Steno was living in the Paduan territories;
and had not the former been cut off by death, he intended get-
ting him into his power. Frightful schemes are also in pre-
paration against the princes of the house of Carrara, who are
detested as well as dreaded by the rulers of Venice.
 Some two or three years after the birth of my little hoy
here, I prevailed on my poor heart-broken wife, who inces-
santly wept over my cruel destiny, to quit Venice, and reside
in the retired and quiet village of Puelfo, about three miles
from Ostia.
 Why, that is the very village, interrupted Paoli, "where
we left our horses.
 I know that now, signor ; for so your squire informed me
to-day. This will facilitate our plans. A worthy padre who
resides there sometimes visits Venice for two or three days
together. He knows my story by means of the confessional,
and occasionally brings me my little boy, sometimes his sister,
and frequently my still tenderly-loved Mariana. I give him all
the money I receive to lay out in charity, and now that it has
pleased Providence to break my chain, we shall begin the
world again. My wife's father is dead, and our formerly
happy valleys are now no longer happy valleys, for a race of
tyrants rule over the wretched serfs.
 I have been brief, signor, because I am bound by oath not
to speak of certain extraordinary transactions. What I have
the battle on the bosphorus. 241
related has been sufficient to show you how I was placed. I do
not deny that it would have been more manly and more
righteous to die by the hand of the executioner than live as I
did, the spy of an unsparing Government, and an object of
abhorrence and disgust to my fellow-creatures. But, alas !
signor, I had not a heart sufficiently stern to relinquish for
ever my beloved wife, and to leave her exposed to merciless
fate. Therefore, to save her 1 became the Bravo Caffagiola.
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
the capuchin.
Paoli remained during the day quietly awaiting the return of
Caffagiola, who, having finished the history of his early life,
had departed, with little Guido, to arrange finally everything
for their escape, and to conduct Pulini and Juliano to his
residence.
The day passed slowly, the night advanced, and Caffagiola
was still absent. Paoli grew uneasy ; he feared some mishap ;
when, just at the moment, the outer portal opened, and then
he heard the signal at the door. The Corsican drew back the
bolts and the Bravo entered, but alone ! Paoli saw at once,
by his flushed face and agitated manner, that something wrong
had occurred.
 Has anything happened to my squire and Juliano 1 asked
Paoli, anxiously.
 No, signor, no, replied the Bravo, throwing aside his
mantle and mask.  Nothing has happened to them, but I am
forced to change my plans. I am watched, signor—watched,
he repeated, emphatically ;  but be assured I will frustrate our
enemies.
 How found you that out, Luca 1 demanded our hero.
 From that officer you heard here the other night. I did
him good service once, and for once I have met gratitude. My
bondage being broken by the death of Passarini, the senators,
I hear, mean to insist on my taking fresh oaths, which, if I
refuse, they, no doubt, intend rewarding me for the past with
a lodging for life beneath the leads of San Marco. I carry in
my breast too many secrets. To-morrow night I am to be
summoned to take the oaths ; but to-morrow night, please the
Divine will, we shall be without the Venetian territories. I
have been called again to the young count. I do not think he
suspects me ; but so deadly is his hate to you, signor, that he
leaves no stone unturned to entrap you. He has offered me
two thousand dollars for your person, but he does not enter
242
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
into my plans for your seizure. The officials will not be sent
here ; and, worse than all, I cannot gain any insight into his
plan of proceeding further than that to-morrow I am to be, at
a certain hour, on the bridge of the Rialto.
"After parting from the count I proceeded to alter my
plans. There are in Venice several very fast boats, called
scampavias. They are manned by Istrians, who carry on a
contraband but successful trade with this city. I took Juliano
with me to a noted locanda where these men meet. Juliano
has succeeded in hiring one of their boats. He knows the cap-
tain of her, and says you may trust your life to the faithful
performance of the man's engagements. Besides, he is to have
an ample reward. Now, Signor Paoli, you must have full
confidence in me.
"I have, Luca, returned the Corsican. "Say on.
 Both our lives, signor, are at stake, resumed the Bravo ;
 for I would sooner die a thousand deaths than renew my
oath. I can count on help in this need, but I may not either
betray names or the means to be employed. I will now give
you instructions how you are to perform your part. I know it
is not easy to startle you, signor ; nevertheless, you must
leave this mansion to-morrow, disguised in my garments and
mask! 
Paoli looked somewhat astounded.
"I am a tall man, signor, resumed Luca, "but you are
taller, though the difference would not be perceived when we
are not together. Now, the costume you will wear is well
known to all the spies and officers of the Government. Should
any one, addressing you, hold his hand thus"—here the Bravo
performed the signal— you then make this private signal"—■
showing Paoli another— and pass on without speaking. After
you have made that signal, no officer or spy of St. Mark will
venture to address or question you. Mix with the procession
in the square ; and when you reach the quay where they em-
bark, leave them and proceed to the other side or east mole,
where the fishing craft are moored. Lift your arm above your
head—thus, and immediately one of the gondoliers will return
your signal. You may then enter his boat, and leave the rest
to him—he knows what to do. Now, signor, do you perfectly
understand the part you have to perform 1 
"Perfectly, returned Paoli, rehearsing the signals to the
satisfaction of the Bravo.  1 have no fear of failure if, as you
say, no question will be put to me.
"No fear of that, returned the Bravo. "When I make that
signal to an officer of St. Mark, it denotes that I am on a
special and secret service. In fact, you can have no idea of
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHOBUS.
243
the intricate system of espionage adopted by the rulers of
St. Mark. You must not open your lips to the gondolier into
whose boat you enter, for he is one of the gondoliers of
St. Mark disguised ; but he is quite ignorant of my intentions,
and simply obeys directions already given to him.
Most part of that night was passed by Paoli in conversation
with the Bravo. The next day, having slept a few hours, our
hero was attired in the dress of the Bravo—a costume immor-
talized by Titian. His hat and plume and mask were in the
genuine bravo style, and he carried his good sword beneath the
long sable mantle which enveloped his figure.
Leaving the mansion, he found himself in the open air.
"Follow that causeway to the end, said Caffagiola; "you
will then find yourself on the borders of a canal, whence you
can perceive in the distance the bridge of the Rialto. In one
hour more we meet, please God, again ! 
And diving beneath the low arch, Paoli was left alone.
With all his hardihood and daring, the knight could but
feel somewhat agitated as he advanced into the city. At first
only a solitary person or so of obscure rank passed, and paid no
attention whatever to him ; but, as he gained the borders of
the canal, he fell in with numbers hurrying to the Square of
St. Mark. The canals were covered with gondolas, and, so
anxious did every one seem to reach the scene of the festivities
that he passed along unheeded. Gaining confidence, he pro-
ceeded leisurely to the bridge of the Rialto. As yet he had
not passed a single officer of the Republic ; at least, so he
thought; but, as he afterwards found out,, they were all dis-
guised as citizens, for, just as he reached the foot of the bridge,
a man in a plain brown cloak and hat, unmasked, passed across
him, and, placing his hand upon his left shoulder, looked him
full in the face. At first, not expecting an officer of St. Mark
in the attire of the person who thus passed him, Paoli was
moving forward, but, instantly recollecting himself, he placed
his left hand on his right shoulder and walked on. Before he
had measured a hundred yards our hero had to repeat the
signal twice. The last time he did so the official, instead of
passing or remaining stationary, to his surprise followed close
after him. Hot liking this, Paoli turned into a narrow cause-
way out of the crowd, in order to see if the man still followed
him, and, to his vexation, found that he did. As he ap-
proached Paoli instantly placed his hand upon the hilt of his
sword. The man was masked, and wrapped from head to foot
in a black mantle.
Paoli paused. The stranger came close to the Corsican, and,
in a low voice, said,—■
244
TUB SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
 Follow me ! 
Rather surprised, if not alarmed, Paoli repeated the signal.
The stranger, in an impatient manner, uttered a smothered
oath, and, raising his mask for an instant, looked the knight in
the face, saying,—
 Now follow me ! 
Paoli was thunderstruck. He recognized the face at once.
Pie had often seen the stranger in the society he had mingled
in when residing at the Tiepolo Palace, and he knew that the
individual who confronted him was the son of Count Passa-
rini! Before he had time to recover from his astonishment, a
Capuchin friar, bulky and unwieldy in person, with his hood
drawn completely over his features, and carrying a well-filled
wallet on his shoulders, stepped up between Paoli and the young
count. The friar whispered something in the ear of the count,
who immediately caught him by the arm. Paoli, instantly
recovering himself, passed on, leaving the two conversing.
He soon regained the crowded thoroughfare, and found him-
self mixed up with the giddy multitude that filled the great
Square of St. Mark to overflowing. The procession was moving
on, and Paoli, after answering two more signals, followed it
to the place of embarkation, astonished beyond measure at his
rencontre with the son of Passarini, and amazed at the inter-
position of the Capuchin friar, who had thus, in the very nick
of time, saved him from discovery. Our hero paid little atten-
tion to the mummery going on before him.
At length he got to the quay ; and, crossing over to the
deserted eastern side, he perceived the skiffs, and four gon-
dolas, just as Cafl'agiola had described. Advancing to the
brink of the quay, he made the desired signal, which was
immediately returned by one of the gondoliers reclining on
the platform of his boat. Paoli was turning to descend, when
his gaze became fixed upon four persons, who, at that moment,
also advanced to the steps leading down to the gondolas. The
two first were the young Count Passarini, the huge Capuchin,
and two strangers in long mantles and masked, with the
badge of St. Mark on their right arm.
"Are we betrayed or discovered V' thought the knight. For
a moment he remained rooted to the spot; but, recolJecting
that to hesitate in following the instructions of Caffagiola was
ruin, he resolved, let what would happen, to follow them to
the letter. Calmly descending the steps, he entered the gon-
dola, when, to his no little surprise, the Capuchin, the count,
and the two masked officers also came on board, without
uttering a word ; but Paoli perceived the dark eyes of the
count through the mask fixed upon him.
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
245
 Then the game is up, muttered the knight to himself,
■with bitterness, and clasping the hilt of his sword with a
firm grasp.  Yet it will cost a life or two before I become
an inmate of their accursed dungeons. Better die.
A strange silence was observed by all. The gondolier
seemed no way surprised at his increased freight; but, taking
to his oar, impelled the light boat from the quay. Paoli, the
count, and the unwieldy Capuchin, sat within the awning;
the two officers without.
They had proceeded something more than two hundred yards
into the lagune, when the count rising, said aloud (placing
his hand within his vest, and grasping something at the same
time),—
 Now then ! 
Paoli sprang to his feet; but the words had hardly left
the lips of the count than his throat was clasped in a grasp
of iron by the Capuchin, and the same instant the gondolier
was dragged, almost choking, within the awning of the boat by
one of the officers, whose mask fell from his face, and Paoli,
in a voice of joy and amazement, exclaimed,—
 Pulini! 
 Gag them, gag them quick! muttered the Capuchin,
throwing back his cowl, and tossing a gag to Pulini. Caffa-
giola, for it was he himself, manged the instrument like an
old hand ; so, in an instant, the count lay gagged and bound
on the bottom of the gondola.
The boat, in the meantime, proceeded rapidly into the
lagune, impelled by the vigorous strokes of the other officials.
Paoli was so completely amazed that all he could do was to
press the hand of the delighted Pulini, who, with Caffagiola's
assistance, soon had the gondolier by the side of the ill-
starred count.
"This time, Signor Paoli, exclaimed Caftagiola, "fortune,
when reduced to the last extremity, favoured us.
While speaking, the ci-devant bravo commenced unloading
his person of sundry articles ; and, casting off his entire load and
disguise, appeared in the simple costume of a citizen. At that
moment the gondola was brought to a stand-still ; and, to
the fresh surprise of the Corsican, the cheerful open coun-
tenance of Juliano, the gondolier who had hitherto impelled
the boat, entered the awning.
Paoli shook the poor fellow's hand with sincere pleasure,
saying,—
 What a fortunate fellow I am to possess three such trusty
and faithful friends ! 
"By the blessed saints, signor, I thought it all up with us
246
THE STINNY SOUTH ; OR,
a short time back. But, uncle, turning to Caffagiola,  here is
the scampavia coming up with a fine breeze. What shall we
do with those two 1  pointing to the struggling forms of the
Count Passarini and his accomplice.
''You may ungag him now, boy, said Caffagiola. "We
are beyond danger from his shouts, were he ever so strong in
the lungs. Besides, I wish to bid him farewell, and send
back my curse, he added bitterly,  to them who blackened
my name, and kept me in cruel bondage and infamy for
fifteen long years.
As Caffagiola spoke he stooped, took the poniard from the
vest of the count, cast off the bonds, and displaced the gag
from his mouth. Slowly the count rose, casting aside his
mantle, while his chest heaved with renewed rage and pain
of breathing from the effect of the gag. For several moments
he stood facing Paoli, unable to utter a word, but with eyes
darting defiance. Without paying the slightest heed to
Caffagiola, who remained with his arms folded watching him,
he addressed the knight, in a calm steady voice, saying,—
 Signor Paoli, you have escaped my vengeance. Fortune
has favoured you. Had she favoured me, in four and twenty
hours from this you would have died under the torture. I
had a right to seek vengeance on the murderer of my father.
(Paoli's face flushed). Nay, resumed the count,  hear me
yet a moment. You are a knight, and bear a character for
daring deeds. I demand from you now, not satisfaction for
the usage I have received, for in that I do not blame you ;
but I demand a meeting, where you please, either to fall by
your hand, or avenge my unfortunate father.
 Signor Count, replied Paoli, struck by the tone and
manner of the Venetian, who was a noble-looking youth, and
accounted in Venice a most skilful swordsman, but of a
licentious and reckless disposition,  Signor Count, allow me
first to set you fight. You have styled me a murderer. The
accusation is false ; no weapon of mine, or weapon of any sort,
terminated your father's life. The death he met was richly
merited. An innocent family plunged into misery, and accused
of crimes the invention of his own brain—
 Sir Corsican, fiercely interrupted the count,  I want no
history of the past. If you slew not my parent with your own
hands you—you—and no other, caused his death. I again
demand from you, as a man, satisfaction at the sword's point.
Let the meeting be without the territory of Venice.
 Be it so, Sir Count, responded Paoli.
At that moment the gondola struck against the side of some
object, and Caffagiola said,—
the battle on the bosphokes.
247
"Signor Paoli, there is no time to lose now. Here is the
vessel that will, in a few hours, hear us beyond the territories
of this accursed Republic. Count Passarini, continued the
Bravo, turning to the young noble,  you must accompany us
yet a few hours. You can then land in this gondola. As to
your mad notion of revenging your father, who himself was a
double murderer—Ah ! you may start and frown, and clench
your hand : I say it, that knew it well, though I absolve you
from any participation in his crimes—you might as well fence
with the moon as seek satisfaction with your sword from that
noble signor. He will not slay you, that I know ; for though
you meant him evil, you have done him no injury, thanks to
Dame Fortune for once.
 Dog ! worm !  exclaimed' the count, passionately, and
grinding his teeth. "I bandy n'ot words with such as thou.
 You are right, count, retorted Caffagiola, with a bitter
smile.  Caffagiola the Bravo is too honest a name to be
mixed up with the polluted one of Passarini.
Paoli, who, to a certain degree, pitied the young count, now
followed Caffagiola and the rest into a fast-sailing scampavia,
manned by six Istrian sailors ; and, bending her low gunnel
beneath the rippling waves, under the pressure of two enor-
mous latine sails, the gondola was taken in tow, the sheets
were slacked, and the fast boat flew over the surface of the
lagune like a dolphin. Paoli paced the deck conversing with
the overjoyed Pulini; while the count, leaning against the
mast, gazed abstractedly on the rapidly diminishing towers
and spires of lordly Venice.
The Lido was passed ; and the barque bounded over the
sparkling waters of the Adriatic. Then, by the directions of
Caffagiola, she shot up in the wind and drew her foresail
aback.
"How, Sir Count, said Caffagiola, "you may, with the
gondolier, gain the shore. The water is smooth and the dis-
tance short.
The count approached Paoli, saying—
"Hame your time and place. If it were a thousand miles
from the Venetian territory, I will forfeit life or meet you.
 Sir Count, you shall have your wish ; and the sooner this
affair is finished the better. My time, at this moment, is of
deep importance to me. Hame any town twenty miles without
the territory of the Venetian States, and let it be three days
from this. You may be attended by any friend you please.
The count appeared to think for a moment, and then said—
 I shall be in Rovigo three days hence, and will expect
you.
248
the sunny soutn ; or,
"Without another word, he descended the side of the boat*
and wrapping himself in his mantle, the gondolier threw him-
self on the seat, and, in a few moments, the light boat was
rowing rapidly towards the Lido.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
the flight.
After the departure of the Count Passarini, the scampavia
was put before the breeze ; and rapidly the barrier of the Lido
faded from their view.
From Caffagiola, Paoli requested an explanation of the late
events, which had so nearly threatened to defeat their projects
of escape.
 Knowing, signor, began Caffagiola,  what a trifle might
overset my plans, I prepared myself accordingly. I disguised
Juliano and Pulini as officials of the lowest grade—men em-
ployed in prowling the city from morning to night, to watch
any popular feeling among the lower orders. I myself deter-
mined to follow your footsteps closely, disguised as a burly
Capuchin, desiring Juliano and Pulini to keep me continually
in sight. When the young count, who, both as a member of
the Council of Forty and chief officer, knows all our signals,
stopped you, I was not a little agitated, for I was close to you.
You may imagine that you, instead of me, might have been
disguised as a Capuchin, and have incurred less risk. But not
so ; four times was I stopped and examined by spies of the
count, who were stupified, on my lifting my cowl, to behold a
second Caffagiola, for they had seen you disguised in my clothes.
Nevertheless, I mystified them completely. But, as I was say-
ing, when the count made you the signal, I was startled, for I
knew him at once, and felt satisfied he would address you. He
did so ; my determination was then made.
 Catching him by the arm, I whispered—' I am Caffagiola.'
With a start of amazement, he at once eagerly said, ' What
means this ? Who, then, is yonder man in your garments ?'
I instantly replied, and with perfect calmness, ' Your victim
and my prize, the Corsican, Paoli.' 'Holy Paul, then,' said the
count, ' yonder are two officers ; forward, and seize him.'
'Softly, count. You'know not that man's powers. I have him
safe. Those two officers are obeying my commands. We are
following him. He will enter a gondola at the east pier ; and
he thinks the gondolier is in his interest. I have changed him.
We will enter the same boat with him, and shall then be five
to one ; and I am no child at a struggle. On the water he
cannot escape us ; but here, in this crowd, and with his strong
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS. 249
arm, he might.' ' By Heavens! you have acted well and wisely,
Caffagiola. Follow him. Once hound and gagged, the thou-
sand ducats are yours.' ' I have the materials here,' I said, in
a half laugh, showing him the iron gags and wristbands which
I intended for him. ' But how,' asked the count, with a sudden
start, as we slowly followed you, ' how got he your garments,
and, above all, the secret signals V 'By bribing,' I replied;
' an official of the lowest grade is his instructor. I have him
in custody.' ' Good,' bitterly replied the count; ' before the
next sun sets he shall die a death of torture. But how got he
your garments ?' he again demanded. ' They are not mine,' I
answered ; ' only made as near as possible to match. This
project of escape, I find, has been the invention of my ill-
starred nephew, Juliano.' ' Ha! is it so 1—then he —' ' Hay,
Signor Count,' I. interposed, as if anxiously. ' You must be
satisfied with letting the poor youth escape from Venice. He
is only faithful to a kind master. You cannot blame him.
You must promise me that, or I stir no further.' I do believe
this pretended interest in Juliano blinded the count more than
anything else. ' Be it so,' responded he; and just then you
made the signal to the boatman. ' Now heed me well, Caffa-
giola,' said the count; ' this man is powerful and determined.
There is no use in risking life. We must take him suddenly.
When I say, Now then, do you throw yourself suddenly upon
him, and we four will assist.' As we entered the gondola, I
whispered your squire, ' The moment you hear the words, Now
then, seize the gondolier, and prevent him from shouting.'
 Thus, signor, we completely mastered our enemy when I
feared the most. But, signor, if you give the count the meet-
ing he is mad enough to demand, we must be wary ; for I sus-
pect he will yet try some treachery against you.
 I have no fear of that whatever, said our hero.  I have
always heard the young count spoken of as of a very high
spirit, and the most expert cavaliero in Venice with the small
sword.
In less than four hours the scampavia cast anchor off Puelfo,
the village where Paoli had left his horses.
 We must not loiter even here, signor, said Caffagiola, as
they prepared to land.  A fast galley would reach this in an
hour or two after us. Wou had better, therefore, ride on to
Rovigo. I will take up my wife and children, and sail in an
hour for Ravenna, as we settled last night. There I shall wait
your arrival. But I again say, be cautious with this count. I
have no faith in any Venetian where vengeance is lurking in
his heart.
"Have no fear, Luca.'H stand on terrafirmanow, beyond the
250
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OK,
reach, of the long arm. of San Marco. "With my good steed "and
my trusty sword, and my hackful squire, I feel equal to a host.
Juliano goes with you. So farewell for five or six days ; after
that, when we meet, we will arrange our future proceedings.
The fact is that, during the hours of the night passed in the
Bravo's mansion, Paoli had defeated every argument which
Caffagiola had used to prove that no other course was now
left him than to get to some distant part of Italy, and
begin the world again. The fear that some one might here-
after recognize him as Caffagiola the Bravo, haunted and
tormented his mind. Paoli showed him that to no other
part of the world could he go with greater safety to avoid
that imaginary risk, than to Corsica. There, our hero
insisted on bestowing upon him a small fief on his own
estate. This would support him comfortably, in addition to
his own exertions. With respect to little Guido, Paoli re-
solved to rear and educate him, and take charge of his
future fortunes.
As to Juliano, he was the merriest and happiest of the
whole party. No sooner out of sight of the towers and
palaces of Venice, than a vast load seemed to be taken from
his breast.
Having settled with the host of the venta, where he had
left his horses, and rewarded Pietro for the good care he
had taken of them, our hero delayed no longer, but pro-
ceeded at once to Rovigo, where he remained three days; but,
as no tidings of the count reached him, he left the town,
caring very little about the matter. On reaching the place
appointed as their rendezvous, he found Juliano anxiously
awaiting his arrival.
"All safe and well ?  demanded Paoli.
 All, signor, and extremely anxious for your arrival. In-
deed, my uncle was so uneasy that he felt inclined to start
for Rovigo. I myself, signor, never imagined for a moment
that the young count would keep his appointment.
 You were quite right, Juliano, returned the count.  I
had much the same opinion. Now, show the way to the best
locanda. To-morrow you must mount and travel as quickly
as possible to Castle Baldo, with letters to Count Steno and
the Signor Alviano, as I do not wish to take them by surprise.
In the meantime I shall be able to make arrangements, and
procure a vessel to carry your uncle and family to Corsica.
But first of all I must procure funds, and write to Pisa for a
supply. Perhaps, however, I may find some merchant here
connected with the Pisan bank. If so, our movements will be
much expedited. And now let us to the albergo.
the battle on the bosphorits.
251
CHAPTER XL.
old friends.
Into a noble saloon of tbe Castle Baldo we must now beg our
readers to accompany us. lit was summer; the windows of the
saloon were open, and looked out upon a long range of terrace.
From this terrace a magnificent prospect was obtained over
that beautiful but somewhat stormy lake which now bears
the name of Garda.
Though the residence of Count Steno was called a castle, it
did not in the least resemble an edifice of that nature. It
certainly was erected where Castle Baldo once stood ; but the
count, Yenetian-like, had remorselessly removed all traces
of the old ruins except one solitary tower—which was pre-
served as an armoury-—and built a mansion according to the
Yenetian taste of that period. Beneath the terrace ran a
noble park, leading to the borders of the lake ; and at the
back of the mansion, ascending a gently rising ground, were
extensive and tastefully-arranged gardens.
Walking along one of the many serpentine paths through
the shady park was a graceful cavaliero, richly attired, even
for that time and place. His plumed hat he carried in his
hand, and as he bent his head, covered with bright chesnut
ringlets, he appeared' to be earnestly pleading some urgent
matter to a stately and lovely girl by his side. The cavaliero
was Ugolino Carrara, nephew to the reigning lord of Padua,
and the maiden, Paulina Tiepolo, who had consented, after
some struggle of heart, and to please a beloved father, to be
betrothed to the young and amiable signer now walking with
her.
To return to the saloon. Seated near a table sat the Signor
Alviano, no longer emaciated and careworn, but hale and well for
his years. He was busy writing letters to various correspondents
in Italy. His courier had returned from Capraja some time,
and had brought the melancholy tidings that his beloved
brother was no more. The inheritance of the crusader, there-
fore, remained for the last Damari to arrive and take possession.
The podesta of Capraja, a kind and worthy man, held every-
thine sacred for the heir, should he ever return. The courier
had also brought intelligence that chased the white rose from
the cheek of Agnes, and allowed the red proudly to show its
triumph upon the cheek of the maiden; for the courier had
heard in Capraja that Corsica had almost recovered her
freedom, Bastia alone remaining in the power of Genoa • and
262
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
that the leader of the Corsicans was Giacinto Paoli. To de-
scribe the delight of father and daughter would he impossible.
Everything was rapidly arranged for their departure for
Capraja, whence a messenger could be despatched to Corsica.
How Paoli had got to Corsica, it was utterly impossible
for father or daughter to conjecture ; nor whether he had
been first to Venice to look after them (for Agnes well knew
the daring spirit of her lover would brave the risk of en-
tering the city), or whether he had first landed on the
shores of his native land to free itlfrom her detested enemies.
All was conjecture. Satisfied, however, that her lover was
at length heard of, the faded beauties of Agnes Alviano
returned.
Agnes was seated opposite her father in the saloon of
Castle Baldo, writing also to her loved friend, the Signora
Tolmeo, who was then in Pisa. The letter was an earnest
request that she jwould join them in Luce', and accompany
them to Capraja. When Agnes and her father were seized by
orders of Passarini, the Signora Tolmeo was left perfectly at
liberty to go whither she pleased. Distracted at the fate of
Agnes—an unknown fate to her—she remained several weeks
dangerously ill at the palace of the Marchese Tiepolo. At
length, sad and dispirited, she proceeded on a visit to her
relations in Pisa, despairing ever to hear more of Agnes, whom
she loved with all the fondness of a mother.
Hot to detain our readers in this part of our narrative, we
will briefly say that the Signor Alviano and his daughter, after
an affectionate farewell from the generous Count and Countess
Steno, and a most tearful adieu from the betrothed Paulina,
departed on their journey. On reaching Lucca, they found
the Signora Tolmeo anxiously awaiting their arrival. After a
week's rest—for the journey in those times from Garda to
Lucca was not performed as now'—they sailed in a light
barque for Capraja, where they were received with enthusiasm
by the simple but attached natives, who had always been
famous for their devotion to their seigneurs. Here, the first
thing they learned was that Corsica was entirely freed from
her yoke, and that General Paoli, supposed dead, was alive,
and actually at that moment governor or podesta (the latter
being the title used in Corsica at that period). Letters were
sent by Alviano, now Marchese Damari, to General Paoli, for
his son. The return of the messenger brought kind and con-
gratulatory letters from the general, stating that his son, the
moment the liberty of his country was achieved, had sailed
for Pisa to proceed to Venice in search of them.
Again the cheek of Agnes blanched.
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHOBUS.
253
 Surely, she exclaimed,  he will incur some risk in
venturing into Venice. How unfortunate!
"Nay, my child, replied the Marchese, "Providence has
been most bountiful. Murmur not at this slight check to our
present most fortunate lot. When we recollect that some few
months back I was a banished, proscribed man, living in a
fearful dungeon, my beloved child torn from my embrace 
"Dearest father, interrupted Agnes, throwing herself into
his arms, "forgive your erring daughter. We have, in truth,
been highly favoured. I will murmur no more, but wait with
patience and resignation for the time when it may please
Providence to restore to us him whom we despaired of ever
again seeing.
Some six months after the departure of Agnes from Castle
Baldo, Paulina Tiepolo became the wife of Ugolino Carrara,
and shortly after accompanied her husband to Padua. The
Marchese and Marchesa Tiepolo were on a visit, with their
son-in-law, when one morning Count Steno entered the saloon
with an open letter in his hand. He seemed considerably
elated, and immediately exclaimed to the Marchese—
 Here's news ! Passarini is dead—found drowned, like a
blind puppy, in the lagune.
"Drowned !  echoed the Marchese, starting up, and looking
with astonishment at his son-in-law.
 Even so, responded Steno ;  and that is not the whole
of it. That glorious fellow Paoli, who daringly entered Venice
to look after the fate of his betrothed, waylaid Passarini on
the lagune, and the villain trying to stab him fell overboard
and was drowned. It was discovered that Paoli was the cause
of his fate. Endeavours of the most crafty and treacherous
kind were made to apprehend him ; but, by the subtle assist-
ance of Caffagiola the Bravo, Paoli escaped from Venice, despite
all the power of the mighty Council. Oh, how the beards of
the mysterious Ten will wag at being thus baffled ! 
 But where, in the name of wonder, Michaello, exclaimed
the Marchesa,  did you gather all this strange intelligence V
 From this letter, replied the count,  brought by our
once merry gondolier, Juliano. It is written by Paoli, whom
he left at Eglino. The knight himself will be here in a few
days. He first was to stop a day or so at Pisa, but, poor
fellow, he will meet a disappointment, for he fully expects to
find Agnes and her father here.
"How rejoiced I shall be to see him, exclaimed the Mar-
chese Tiepolo.  I love him as a son.
Though our hero felt the disappointment severely on arriving
at Castle Baldo, and finding that his betrothed and her father
254
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
had departed for Capraja, yet he experienced a feeling of
intense pleasure in embracing those dear and kind friends to
to whom he owed so much. He heard, with profound astonish-
ment, of the transformation of the merchant Alviano into the
Marchese Damari, and that, after all, the Marchese was of
Corsican extraction, and united by marriage with the Paoli
family, his father having wedded one of the heiresses of
Ficaoli—a Paoli.
Though Paoli was surprised, Pulini, his squire, was not.
He had recognised the merchant the very moment he beheld
him enter the cabin of Paoli's galley in Byzantium. When a
youth of sixteen or seventeen years of age, Pulini remembered
the old Marchese Damari and his two sons visiting our hero's
grandfather at their mansion at Ficaoli. The young Damari
was then about three-and-twenty. Pulini, the foster-brother
of Giacinto's father, often accompanied the youths to the
chase, as a guide over the wild glens and mountains of
Corsica. Pulini never forgot his features. As Paoli quitted
the cabin to receive Pisani, the merchant spoke to the squire,
and briefly stated to him his reason for remaining unknown,
requesting the worthy squire to keep his secret, which he
faithfully did.
After spending eight days with his devoted friends, the
knight bade them farewell. They met with delight, and
parted with regret, but with the intention of meeting again.
Juliano did not leave without substantial proofs of the Mar-
chese Tiepolo's generosity.
Paoli now set out for Pisa, where he chartered a light barque
to carry him and his followers to Capraja. He found Luca
Manifesto and his family so much improved in appearance as
scarcely to be recognised. Mariano Manifesto was still a very
beautiful woman, and her husband, now that his mind was
relieved, a remarkably fine, soldier-like looking man, in the
prime of life. But misery and torture of mind at the bondage
he was enduring, with a total neglect of person, rendered it
scarcely possible for any one to imagine they beheld the indi-
dual who had acted the horrid part of the Yenetian spy and
bravo.
Giacinto Paoli felt much pleased with the manners and
appearance of his proteges, and particularly so with their
daughter, an interesting girl, about sixteen years old.
The whole party embarked towards evening. The breeze
being favourable, they gained the mouth of the Arno, and
passed the shallows that even then rendered its navigation
intricate. During the night, however, the wind died com-
pletely away, and a thick grey mist crept over the waters,
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
255
enveloping them in its embrace. But when the sun rose, a
light air from the land wafted them onward, and Paoli, im-
patient and restless, ascended to the after-deck, or poop, as it
was then styled, for all the small and many of the larger
craft of that period were open in the waist, and only the poop
and forecastle were decked.
Pulini was already there, leaning over the side, and looking
towards the quarter where he expected soon to see his native
land.
 This mist will speedily clear, signor, said he, as his master
came to his side. "We cannot be more than a league or so
from Capraja.
The squire was right. As the sun rose, so also did the
vapour, which curled and wreathed ; and then, as the light
air increased and filled the lofty latine sails, the mist was
swept from the face of the deep, and the bright unclouded
sun shone out over the sparkling waters. Within three miles
of them lay the home of the Damaris, and Paoli felt his heart
beat quicker as his gaze rested on its singularly rugged out-
line. Beyond it, to the westward, distant only twenty miles,
rose the lofty mountains of Corsica—the summit of Monte
Rotundi, covered with perpetual snow, rising up clear and
distinct in the pure bright blue of the sky. Off the island of
Capraja were several fishing-craft lying at anchor.
They rapidly neared Capraja, and soon its strong and im-
posing fortress became visible as they opened a bluff head of
the island. On the keep of the castle was a lofty standard—
and as the voyagers'approached the mouth of the rude outer
haven, an immense flag was hoisted on the standard. It blew
out with the then stiff breeze, and Paoli, whose eyes were
fixed upon its fluttering folds, suddenly caught the arm of his
squire with a grasp as if of iron.
 By Heavens !  exclaimed the knight, "that is the banner
of Genoa—there is no mistaking it. Can it be possible that
this island is in possession of our cursed foes 1
 It will never do, suddenly exclaimed Pulini,  to run
thus into the enemy's jaws. Put down your helm, man, and
tack. Look, signor, there is a ponderous chain across the
inner harbour over to the tower under the fortress.
For several moments Paoli remained electrified at this new
obstacle raised up against him. Could the Genoese have again
invaded Corsica ? was his first thought. The Tartana now
sailed slowly out from the bay. Luca Manifesto and Juliano,
not exactly understanding the cause, and quite ignorant that
the banner which blew out so ostentatiously from the standard
on the ramparts was a hostile one.
256
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
Turning to the equally surprised padrone of the Tartana,
■who was then at the helm, Paoli, in a few words, let him into
the secret of his change of purpose, requesting him to put
his craft alongside one of the fishing-boats they passed in.
coming in.
This was soon done, and the fishing-boat being hailed came
alongside. A stout, hardy-looking Caprese stood up and
civilly inquired if they wanted fish, as they had some fine red
mullet, for which fish the sea around Capraja and Corsica had
been famous so far back as the time of the Caesars.
"We will willingly take your fish, friend, and pay you well
for them, if you will afford us a little information. Your
island, I see, is in possession of Genoa; at least, the flag of
the republic is hoisted over the fortress.
 Yes, curse them and their flag! replied the Caprese.
 The island is in possession of a band of devils ; for not con-
tented with using sorcery and magic (and the man crossed
himself devoutly),  they have plundered us of everything,
and ill-treated our wives and daughters. They even rob us
poor fishermen (when we return in the evening) of a third of
our labours—maladetto bestias that they are !
"Make your minds easy, friends, said Paoli, rather startled
at the man's account.  You shall have help soon, and from
a quarter you have a right to expect help from, that is,
Corsica.
The man looked eagerly into the face of Paoli; for he had
spoken the last sentence in the Corsican dialect, well known
in Capraja.
"Tell me, amico, resumed our hero, "how long have these
adventurers, for such I suppose they are, held the island ?
And what do you mean by sorcery and magic ?
"They have gained the island, signor, said the man,
speaking with marked respect,  by sorcery. How else did
they contrive to get ashore ?—for neither ship nor boat was
next morning in the harbour, nor was the chain either broken
or let go. So how, except by magic, could three hundred
men, in heavy armour, scale our cliffs ?
 Ha! by Heavens, I understand it now, ejaculated our
hero, with a start.
He said no more. The Caprese looked surprised ; but
added—
 This happened near two months ago, signor.
 And the Marchese Damari and his daughter 1 demanded
Paoli, with intense anxiety.  What was their fate after the
subjugation of the island ?
 You seem to know our island and its chief, said the
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
257
Caprese, thoughtfully, while his comrade, an old but vigorous
man, sat with his hands leaning on the gunnel, and looking with a
puzzledand thoughtful glance into the anxious features of Paoli.
 True, my good fellow, said he,  I do know your lord and
your island well. I am a native of Corsica, and you know that
Capraja and Corsica were ever joined against our common foe,
the Genoese.
 I thought so, muttered the old man to himself.  God
bless you, for I know you ; but I will keep my knowledge to
myself for certain reasons. Please you, signor, continued he,
aloud, rising and doffing his crimson cap,  I will tell you all
you want to know better than my boy there, for I happened to
be up that night, and saw those men take the fortress with my
own eyes.
"Come aboard, then, said Paoli; "we will take your boat
in tow.
The fisherman came aboard, and Paoli took him into the*
after-cabin, leaving the young man surrounded with auditors
on the poop above. Our hero made the fisherman drink a
goblet of wine, and then begged him to relate full particulars
of all that had happened since the taking of the island.
 I beg your pardon, signor, for not obeying you at once,
but I know you are a Paoli: God bless the name ! It has
ever been the watchword of liberty ; and the moment I recog-
nised you I said to myself—' Old Antonio will live loDg
enough yet to see that cursed flag, that waves so bravely now,
trampled under our feet.'
Paoli was not much surprised at the old man's recognising
him, for the fishermen from Capraja frequented almost daily
the harbours and bays of Corsica.
"Knowing who I am, then, my good friend, speak without
reserve ; for, with the Divine help, before one month expires,
I will free your island from these lawless ruffians.
"Alas! signor, said the old man,  even to you it will be
more difficult than you imagine, unless— and the old man
crossed himself—"you get into the island the same way those
devils did.
"Now let me hear, interrupted the knight, somewhat
impatiently,  how all this took place.
"Well, signor, you shall hear. It was a rough, stormy
night, and, having indifferently secured my boat, I got up to
go down to the harbour. My cot is about a quarter of a mile
outside the village ; for I own a little vineyard, and I built a
cot in it, which was unusual with us, for we all live within the
boundary wall surrounding the village. Well, I was groping
my way, for it was dreadful dark, when I thought I heard a
K
258
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OB,
singular and hollow sound behind me. I stopped, andagainquite
close to me I heard the tramp of many feet. I crossed myself,
signor, for I was frightened, and crouched down behind a rock,
listened, and looked in the direction of the sound. I had
hardly done so when a number of men, near a hundred, 1 am
sure, in armour, passed quickly and silently before my sight.
I could not utter a prayer, signor, for my life. Water dripped
from my face, and I shook like as in an ague fit. Before I
could bring myself to move from the spot to return to my hut
—for, in truth, Signor Paoli, I thought it was a band of fiends
that had passed me—a loud and fierce shout rent the air ; and
then followed screams and cries of all kinds. I now ran
towards the -village, and, as I gained the wall, I saw, by the
flame of wood brands, hastily lighted, a body of those men
facing the gates of the fortress. My fear, in part, was now
gone, for I saw they must be men, because the garrison—a very
small one, as no enemy is ever expected by the land-gate—
were surprised ; and though they fought stoutly, and we all,
now being completely roused, ran for our arms to assist, the
gates were in a moment forced, most of its defenders slain, and
several of the townspeople wounded. JSTo sooner had the
enemy gained the gates than they raised the bridge, let fall
the portcullis, and the fortress was gained. Vain was every
attempt of ours, the three succeeding days, to regain posses--
sion of it. The fourth day a galley with two hundred well-
armed men made the harbour. Those in the fortress have the
command of the chain, the powerful windlass to raise it being
in the lower tower. The chain was let go; the galley entered
and landed her men under the walls of the fortress. Against
their united force (nearly four hundred men in heavy and
complete mail) we could do but little. The strongest and
most determined amongst us made a noble defence to save our
new lord and his lovely daughter; for, although so short a
time amongst us, she has already made herself beloved. Alas!
the castle was taken, plundered, and the Marchese and his
daughter carried prisoners to the fortress, where they now
remain; and God only knows what these devils of Genoese
intend doing.
Paoli had listened patiently to the old man's prolix recital.
His thoughts were busy during the time ; but he did not inter-
rupt the speaker.
"Hid you hear the name, or did you see the leaders of
these invaders ? demanded Paoli.
"Oh yes, signor. We see them now often enough; they
have disarmed all the inhabitants, and taken the arms into the
fortress. They have even made laws, sanctioned by Genoa, to
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHOBUS.
259
whom they have sold the island, or will sell it. Twenty dol-
lars, as a penalty, is imposed on every native found with any
kind of weapon on his person or in his house. This is for the
first offence ; but the second time he is convicted of having a
weapon, they threaten to hang the offender. A certain quan-
tity of provisions are to be provided daily ; and a third of our
fish is taken from us. In fact, signor, if this lasts three
months longer, our podesta that was says we must starve.
"But you have not told me the name of their leader, said
our hero.
 They call him Signor Andrea Campaldino.
Paoli started, repeating—
^ Campaldino ! By the Pope, this is astounding. Describe
him.
 He is a well-made man enough, signor ; and one side of
his face is neither wicked nor bad in its expression ; but the
other, from a deep scar and the loss of an eye, is disagreeable
to look upon.
 By all that's wonderful, ejaculated the astonished Paoli,
 the same man ! And now, friend, we will part. Here are a
few dollars. Keep your own counsel. Say not a word of
what has passed this day. Mention not my name even to
your son.
"Beg your pardon, signor; but better take my boy with
you. He would risk fifty lives to serve you ; and I suspect he
remembers you too, for he wasinBastiawhen you sailed last from
that port. He was dying to see you, and, poor boy, he would
give you his life. But, though I am his father, I must confess
it, before this time to-morrow every soul in the island would
hear of his having seen and talked to you, and that you were
coming to deliver the island from her enemies. That's his
weak point, signor.
 Then, in sooth, I must take him with me, said Paoli.
 But why not come yourself ? You will be of use to me.
Have you any objection 1
 Oh, none whatever, signor. I wished to offer myself, but
was afraid to say so.
•  But what will they say when you are missed, amico
"Oh, that is nothing, signor. We often go for days and
weeks together and fish off Elba, and there dispose of our fish
to great advantage.
Paoli immediately ascended upon deck, desired the padrone
to make fast the fishing-boat to a strong hauser, and shape his
course with all sail for Bastia. Then, calling Pulini, he
returned to the cabin of the Tartana, where we must leave
him to see after our unfortunate heroine and her father.
R 2
260
the sunny south; ob,
CHAPTER XLI.
When Andrea Campaldino gained possession of the fortress
and island of Capraja, he was by no means aware that, in the
Marchese Damari and his daughter, he would behold the Vene-
tian merchant Alviano and his child. The only person who
could have enlightened him on that point was his Italian
associate Montoni, and he, singularly enough, was the only man
of the party slain in the attack of the fortress, though many,
notwithstanding their armour, were severely wounded. In the
assault on the Damari mansion he lost several men, for the
natives had time to arm, and were not taken by surprise.
"When his comrade, Achilles Furiani, arrived from Genoa with
reinforcements, he immediately took measures to prevent any
sudden rising of the exasperated natives, and completely
deprived them of every weapon. He also sent over a hundred
of the ablest-bodied young men to Genoa to serve as seamen,
and in return he received from the government the appoint-
ment of governor of the island. Alter having disarmed the
natives, and sent away their best men, Campaldino saw at
once that it would be utterly impossible to maintain and keep
in order the host of greedy adventurers he had tempted to join
him in the expedition. Having carried the Marchese and his
daughter captives to the fortress, he dismantled the Castle
Damari, and conveyed all the furniture (much of which was
costly, and brought from Florence and Pisa) to the fortress.
He treated his captives with a show of respect; appropriated
to them the best chambers and the best furniture ; for he was
at once struck by the exquisite beauty of Agnes, and his plans
with respect to them were not yet formed. His first object
was to get rid of his allies. He therefore called them
together, showed them how impossible it was for them all to
subsist on the scanty resources of the island, and offered to
divide at once the plunder that had been collected, so that they
might return without delay by the galley to Genoa.
This offer was very willingly accepted ; for, in truth, the limits
they were confined to by no means suited their wild desires and
roving habits. The plunder was divided, and the adventurers
sailed for Genoa, leaving Campaldino and his lieutenant
Achilles with not more than two hundred and fifty regular'
soldiers of the Republic and about fifty selected associates of
their own.
Having settled all this to his satisfaction, the governor, after
surveying the island, saw the remains of the old tower of
Cauro, on the west side of the island, overlooking the extent
THB BATTLE ON THE BOSPHOEUS.
261
of sea between them and Corsica. This tower he repaired and
strengthened, and gave it up to the command of Achilles,
whom it suited exactly ; for now that Campaldino had ac-
quired the title of governor, the rules of the fortress were
rather too strict for his liking. Therefore, about a month
after their conquest, Achilles established himself in the tower,
where he passed his time in eating, drinking, sleeping, and
occasionally making love to the maidens of Capraja, who were,
and still are, remarkably pretty. So well, indeed, did Achilles
manage the natives, being himself remarkably good-humoured
and facetious, that he alone of the invaders was treated with
common civility.
Campaldino now turned his attention to his captives, towards
whom he observed every courtesy and attention. He allowed
them their own servants, and even permitted the podesta, a
fine old signor of good family, to visit them. In fact, Cam-
paldino thought it possible he might gain the hand of his fair
captive.
Though considerable plunder was taken in the Castle Damari,
none of those chests full of treasure spoken of by Montoni
were as yet found, though most diligently sought after. Up
to this time he had not mentioned the subject to the Marchese,
who, with his daughter, appeared overwhelmed with affliction
at their repeated misfortunes. But the Genoese soon saw, by
the look of horror with which Agnes beheld him, that her
love would never be gained by him. Nevertheless, he resolved
to see what the Marchese would say to the insidious offers he
intended to make.
Taking an opportunity, when the Marchese was alone, Cam-
paldino very coolly explained his views. He first of all began
by saying he had received orders from the Genoese govern-
ment to send the Marchese and his daughter to Genoa, to be
there retained as state prisoners and hostages. Campaldino
exulted inwardly, when he saw at a glance that this intelli-
gence struck the Marchese with horror ; for, in secret, both he
and his daughter looked for deliverance from Paoli on his
return to Corsica.
 There is but one way, Signor Marchese, to avoid the exe-
cution of these orders, which I see cause you much pain. I
love your daughter.
The Marchese started with astonishment and disgust.
Nevertheless,Campaldino, with perfect self-possession, persisted.
 United to your daughter, resumed he,  I will dismiss this
garrison, restore the island to its original lord, and 
"Nay, interrupted the Marchese, "this cannot be. My
daughter's affections are already bestowed; but I will make
262
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OB,
you an offer which, in a pecuniary sense, will he ample amends
for the loss of a maiden's hand whose heart you could never
gain.
Campaldino remained silent, and the Marchese continued,-—
 Allow myself and daughter to embarlc in one of our fishing-
boats for Corsica, or even Livorno, and I offer you the sum of
a hundred thousand livres of Genoa. *
 Your offer, Marchese, is princely, returned the Genoese,
with a very gratified smile, for his thoughts immediately cen-
tered upon the iron chests of treasure gained by the crusader ;
 but, allow me to observe, after having collected all the plun-
der of your castle, and shared it with my followers, as our
right by conquest, where could so great a sum be procured as
that which you offer me ? I confess that I will willingly ac-
cept the amount mentioned, if you will only show or prove to
me your power of paying such a sum.
Now the Marchese Damari, after all his trials and all his
traffic with the world, was by no means a suspicious or a keen
observer of his fellow men. He listened eagerly to the words
of the crafty Genoese, who no sooner declared his willingness
to accept the offer, than he called to his daughter Agnes, who
was in the next chamber, to bring him his small cabinet.
Agnes accordingly entered, bearing an ivory-and-ebony cabinet.
Campaldino rose and politely handed the maiden a seat.
Agnes merely bowed, and was retiring, when the Marchese
said,—"Your eyes, Agnes, are quicker than mine. Stay a
moment with me and the Signor Campaldino.
Agnes shuddered every time she heard the name; for her
lover, in reciting his adventures to her, had mentioned that
very name as designating the leader of the Genoese forces in
the invasion of Corsica ; and she readily conjectured that
their present conqueror might be either his son or other
relative.
. "The Signor Campaldino, resumed the Marchese, "has
agreed to take ransom, restore us to liberty, and allow us to
embark for Italy or Corsica.
Agnes clasped her hands with an exclamation of joy, while
a bitter smile sat upon the lip of the Genoese.
 Open that cabinet, my love, and take me out the acknow-
ledgements of Signor Filippo Tortoni, the Pisan banker.
Without thinking of aught but the delight of regaining
their liberty, Agnes turned over several papers, picked out one
on parchment, and handed it to her father, who, not bestowing
a glance upon the document, presented it to the Genoese,
* About £5,000 at that period—a large sum then.
THE battle on the bosphorcs.
263
saying,  You will there, Signor Campaldino, see a sum lodged
iu my name of ten times the amount offered you for our
ransom.
Campaldino took the parchment and ran his eye over the
contents. As he did sO his face grew deadly pale, and then
flushed like crimson. Agnes gazed at him in terror. His
eye flashed and sparkled with emotion. At length, dropping
the document, he fixed his single eye upon the maiden, ex-
claiming in a voice of exultation,— How is this 1 Instead
of the Marchese Damari do I behold the Signor Alviano, the
Venetian merchant ?
Agnes appeared to be fainting. The Marchese called the
Signora Tolmeo from the next chamber to assist his child ;
and still somewhat ignorant of the cause of the sudden faint-
ness of his daughter, and the strange, excited tones of the
Genoese, said, picking up the parchment,— My daughter has
committed a trifling error ; that money was lodged in the
name of Alviano, which I bore for five and thirty years, twenty
of which I resided in Byzantium. She gave you the old
document. Since I succeeded my brother—the late Marchese
Damari—the money has been placed under my proper name.
Here, and the Marchese took a similar paper from the cabi-
net, "is the proper document.
 So then, exclaimed the Genoese, scarcely heeding the
words of the Marchese, but turning to Agnes, and fixing upon
her a look of triumph,  in you, the daughter of the ci-devant
merchant Alviano, I behold the betrothed of my deadliest foe,
the rebel Paoli.
 Yes, replied the maiden, rising to quit the room, and
fixing a glance of scorn upon the excited countenance of the
Genoese, "the betrothed, not of the rebel Paoli, but the
glorious deliverer of his country from the cruelty, oppression,
and treachery of your countrymen.
 I am fortunate, noble lady, returned the Genoese, with a
malicious smile, "in gaining the prize I have ; for, leave this
fortress, except as the wife of Campaldino, you never shall.
 That day will never arrive, signor. Sooner than endure,
for a single hour, the name of one so base and cowardly, I
will be borne to my grave. Come, dearest father, continued
Agnes, taking the arm of her bewildered parent,  let us leave
our jailer to the contrivance of plans, which I feel assured
Heaven, in its own good time, will defeat.
Campaldino laughed aloud as the captives left the chamber.
 So, my gentle damsel, ruminated he, "you crow loudly,
in truth, and threaten bravely. But patienza, patienza. This
tjme I have the ball at my own foot,
264
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OB,
Leaving the chamber, he proceeded to the guardroom, where
he found his lieutenant, Achilles Furiani.
 What's in the wind now, governor 1 demanded Furiani,
looking into his commander's countenance.  What has
ruffled you ?
"Nothing but the excitement caused by a freak of Dame
Fortune, who has turned a spoke of her wheel in my favour at
last. By the mass, I have found the treasure we have so
vainly sought.
 Corpo di Bacco ! Do you say so 1 exclaimed Achilles,
rubbing his huge hands in great glee.  How and where ? 
 Why, in the daughter of the Marchese Damari.
The visage of the lieutenant changed into a woeful expres-
sion.  Diavolo ! a treasure of beauty I allow, governor ; but
that is a treasure you can't divide.
 Nevertheless, Furiani, returned Campaldino,  as you have
hitherto shared my plunder you shall share in this. But
you are in error. I have, in truth, gained a treasure in
gold, in addition to the maiden, in securing whom I shall
gratify my vengeance against Paoli, who I thought had
escaped me for ever.
 Cento Diavoli !  was all Achilles could reply, but he looked
unutterable things.
 Who, think you, is this lady Agnes Damari ?  demanded
the governor.
 Body of the world !  ejaculated Achilles,  I told you I
never had a head fit for anything except standing hard knocks,
and for defying the strength of a hamper of Cyprus ; but as
to riddles, I want none of them. That unfortunate rascal
Montoni, who was ass enough to let his brains be knocked out
by a crowbar, was the man for riddles. Speak out and don't
keep me in suspense. I long for something substantial that
will last me for the rest of my life, for I begin to think I shall
exhaust the wines of this island before something better turns
up.
The governor then related to his lieutenant the scene that
had taken place between him and his captives.
Achilles was more puzzled than ever. How the Marchese
Damari could be the merchant Alviano of Byzantium, of whom
he had often heard Montoni speak, completely stupified him,
especially as the past night had been spent in a deep carouse
with his associates, who, by great good luck, had stopped a
vessel the day before laden with Sicilian wines for Bastia, and
which Achilles seized upon, giving to the distracted padrone
of the Tartano, as a reason for doing so, that he had no busi-
ness to take in a cargo of wine, especially for a hostile port.
TIIE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORTJS.
265
To a question of Achilles as to how it was possible such a
transformation could take place as that of the Venetian mer-
chant into the Marchese Damari, Campaldino replied that with
the how he very little troubled himself; it was of no manner of
consequence. He was satisfied he held captive a man who
actually possessed sufficient wealth lodged in bank to purchase
a principality for them both.
 Of the wealth you shall have a fair share, added he ;  but
the maiden falls to my lot alone. In forcing her to become
my wife the dearest wish of my heart will be gratified.
At that moment the ci-devant podesta of Capraja was ushered
into the room. The old man bowed low, as the governor, turn-
ing towards him, demanded, curtly enough, the cause of his
entrance, as it was not one of the days appointed for his vis'its
to the Marchese and his daughter.
 'Tis true, your eccellenza, it is not ; but I come to request
a favour, hoping you will not refuse to grant it, asfit is in a
religious point of view I ask this favour, and essential to the
happiness of the simple natives of this island.
 Take a seat, signor, said the governor, "and let me hear
your request. I by no means wish to be harsh to your coun-
trymen; but let me, at the same time, remind you that the
sum specified by yourself as the tribute I levied is now two
months due.
 Signor—your eccellenza I mean—I come to speak about
that also. We are poor, very poor; nevertheless we are
willing to sacrifice all we possess of value to keep up old
customs.
"Be so good as to explain, Signor Buttaficcio, said the
governor.
"Well, your eccellenza, I will do so. In the time of Otho
Damari, the crusader 
 Corpo di Bacco !  ejaculated Furiani, starting to his feet,
 I shall be choked with thirst if you carry us back to the times
of the crusader. I will leave your eccellenza to listen to the
worthy Signor Buttaficcio, and just wet my lips with a flask of
the poor wine of this country.
So saying, Achilles, who detested long prosy stories, left the
chamber.
 Now go on, Signor Buttaficcio, said the governor.  My
good lieutenant is a remarkably thirsty individual—a disease
brought on, he says, by the scorching he got by wearing armour
under the burning sun in our colony of Pera.
 So it seems, your eccellenza, quietly observed the ex-
podesta.  Your worthy lieutenant has declared the Sicilian
barque loaded with wine forfeited because she was bound for
Bastia.
266
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
"It was an error of his, gravely replied the governor, "hut
I fear it may not now be remedied. It shall not, however,
occur again. Such things will happen in conquests till affairs
get into their right place. Vessels that anchor here must be
protected, especially as a very good revenue is collected for
harbour dues. But pray come to the subject of your visit.
 I was saying, your eccellenza, that in the time of Otho
Damari, the crusader, a frightful tempest and convulsion of
the earth took place in this island. The inhabitants thought
the island would be swallowed up. Fire burst out of the
ground in several places, and a shower of burning ashes fell
all over the country. The crusader was a pious man, and
brought from the Holy Land, when he returned, a piece of the
true and blessed cross. In the midst of this frightful convul-
sion he took the relic from its case, and also several other
blessed relics of the saints, such as the toe-nail of the blessed
St. Agatha, a hair of the head of St. John the Baptist, and
several others, and, assembling all the inhabitants, they formed
a procession, with the relics in front, and ascended to the
mount on which now stands the chapel of this fortress. They
placed the relics on the ground, which heaved and rocked
every moment; and the crusader vowed, if the island was
saved, to build a chapel on the spot where the relics stood,
dedicated to St. John the Baptist—for it was then St. John's
eve—to endow it with a yearly sum to support six friars, and
that a procession should take place yearly on the morning of
St. John's eve by the principal inhabitants of the island,
clothed in white mantles and hoods, and that each person
should deposit upon the altar of the chapel the- sum of one
livre, as an offering to be laid out in the decorations of the
chapel.
 Well, your eccellenza, it pleased Heaven to spare the island.
The crusader founded the handsome chapel that now stands
within the walls of this fortress, which was built afterwards
by the crusader ; he also erected a house within the town as a
convent for the six friars, one of whom daily attends, with the
permission of your eccellenza, to celebrate mass within the
chapel, to the garrison. St. John's eve now approaches, and
the inhabitants of this island, who are a simple, untaught
race, and devotedly attached to their old customs and cere-
monies, have begged me to solicit your eccellenza for per-
mission to visit and pray in the chapel on St. John's day,
and to deposit their annual offerings; and if granted yearly,
they are willing to pay a livre a head tribute money, to be
distributed amongst the soldiers of your eccellenza's garrison,
To solicit this permission is the cause of my intrusion,
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS. 267
The age we write of was in every way a religious and super-
stitious one. All ceremonies connected with the relics of
saints were eagerly attended by priest, layman, and soldier;
and none were more ardent in apparent devotion than the
lawless bands of adventurers who were to be found scattered
over the face of entire Europe.
Campaldino saw nothing in the wish of the Gaprese beyond
a devotional one ; nor was there, in fact, any other. Resistance,
or any scheme to recover their liberty, was totally out of the
question. So vigorous, indeed, was Campaldino's search for
arms, that he scarcely left the inhabitants the instruments
necessary for their domestic purposes. Besides, all armour,
and warlike stores, and weapons were deposited in the armoury
of the fortress. He therefore willingly agreed to let the
ceremony take place, provided the tribute due to him by agree-
ment was payed three days before St. John's eve.
Greatly pleased at having gained the object of his visit, the
Signor Buttaficcio withdrew, bowing to the very floor.
CHAPTER XLII.
adventures op the elder paolx.
In a chamber of one Of the handsomest palaces built by
the Genoese in the city of Bastia, late in the evening, sat
General Paoli and his son. Our hero had just been relating to
his father, who had been appointed, by the united voice of the
whole island, their podesta, or governor, a full account of all
his adventures since he left the island. They were now con-
suiting and planning an expedition against Capraja.
Our hero was against attempting the reduction of the island
by an open assault ; for, so strong was the fortress by situation
and artificial defences, that resistance, even by a small garrison,
might easily be prolonged for weeks, perhaps months ; and
during that time, such was Campaldino's hatred and desire
of revenge against Paoli, that it was impossible to say what
the consequences might be to his Agnes and her father.
"You are right, Giacinto,'' said the general, after a few
moments' thought.  I am inclined to adopt your plan of
surprisal, by entering the island through the very passage by
which this Campaldino, however he obtained the knowledge,
won the fortress. There is this difference, however, and you
must not lose sight of it. The present Marchese Damari is a
man of peace. Old Buttaficcio, the podesta, though one of
the kindest-hearted men living, is no soldier—it is very evident
that, bold, high-spirited, and ardently devoted to liberty as
the Caprese are, a most negligent guard of the fortress was
268
THE SUNNY SOUTH J OR,
kept. Now, Campaldino is a soldier, not only bold and daring,
but crafty and suspicious like his father. You cannot expect
to find the fortress with its bridge down, its portcullis raised,
and scarcely a watch kept. Nevertheless, something may
turn up in your favour which you do not at present see.
While you enter the island through that strange range of
caverns which you and Count Sampiero discovered when
almost boys, I will keep off the island in a galley, with a force
sufficient to take the fortress if you fail. By your hoisting
a signal, I shall understand you require my asistance. Strange
that the son should have an influence over your destiny nearly
as great as his crafty father had over mine.
"You promised me, dear father, that the first time we had
an evening to ourselves you would give a more minute
detail of your adventures than you could possibly do the last
time we met. I cannot, at this moment, settle my mind
fully upon my expedition to Capraja ; but in the quiet.hours
of the night will bring my confused thoughts to some kind
of determination. At all events, I will delay no longer than
to-morrow night. I only wait my cousin Otho's arrival.
Now, dear sir, let me hear how you contrived to perform a
feat that always, to me, appeared astonishing—namely, your
escape from the state prison of Genoa.
 You will find nothing surprising in that part, my son,
replied the elder Paoli.  However, you shall have all my ad-
ventures. The getting out of the prison was a freak of fortune.
"Mastino Campaldino, began the general, "was by far
the craftiest of all the commanders sent by Genoa into Corsica.
He resolved to try bribery and corruption, and, for a time, he
was baffled ; for, of all nations, our countrymen set the least
value on gold. But just as he was thinking of abandoning
this project, the villain Luigi Antonetti fell into his hands.
The moment he saw this man, and learned his connections,
he was satisfied that his plan would work. The traitor was
offered the estates of his cousin Sampiero on certain conditions,
and thus he became a spy and traitor. To follow up the plan
intended, the villain was allowed to escape, as it were, and was
even hunted by the soldiers of Campaldino, while a reward
was offered for his apprehension. I received him as a fugitive,
and he sold me and his country, by betraying the secret
entrance into the citadel of Corte. Campaldino conceived it
would be a death-blow to our cause were he to hang those
chiefs who fell into his hands at Corte ; at the same time he
resolved, as a masterly stroke, to send me secretly to Genoa,
and give out that he had put me to death. If that did not
succeed he still had me as a hostage, to use as he saw OQcasion.
THE BATTLE ON THE B0SPH011US.
289
I tvas accordingly embarked in a galley sailing for Genoa, and
placed in the state prison, one of the strongest fortresses in
Ligurian territory. There for two years I remained, hopeless
of ever recovering my liberty, when, by one of those unfore-
seen events that at times baffle all human foresight, I escaped
from durance.
 One morning early the prison was surrounded by a furious
and excited mob, composed of all the artizans and lower orders
of Genoa, whose amount is wonderful. All the prisons of
Genoa were broken into by these fantastic lovers of liberty,
who had first murdered as many of their nobility as were op-
posed to the faction of the Grimaldi, and driven the rest out
of the city, elected a new Doge, and by way of finish to this, I
am told, not unusual outbreak, determined to liberate all the
prisoners without distinction or inquiry. Some of the captives,
well known, and of their own party, were carried in triumph
through the city; others, myself amongst the rest, were told
to shift for ourselves. Astounded by the uproar, confusion,
and devastation, I rushed, as soon as I learned how matters
stood, along with a hundred others, out into the streets. I was
not very strong, as you may suppose, and with difficulty made
my way amid the mob of rioters. I picked up, in the con-
fusion, a mantle and a cap, with which I invested myself.
 My first object was to get outside the city ; and, by asking
a few questions, I managed to issue forth by the gate leading
into that princely suburb, San Pietro d'Arena. What to do
next I knew not, being totally ignorant of the country, and
without a fraction of money, or any article to convert into
money. I was puzzled. On one side of me rose those mag-
nificent palaces which for a league stretch to the westward
after leaving the city. On the other side was a glorious sea,
sparkling and rippling in the bright sun. If I had had but a
boat, and a little water and bread, twenty-four hours would
have seen me on my native shores, for a fine breeze of Tra-
montana flew over the water I gazed on so anxiously. I
walked on, however, resolving to get as far as possible from
Genoa ; but, unaccustomed to exercise, I was completely
knocked up when I got to the village of Pagia, for so I learned
it was called.
 Seating myself on a rock, I could proceed no further, I
looked around me anxiously. At length, I became drowsy with
the noise and murmur of the waves on the beach, and the hum
of voices from the village. After having dozed awhile, I was
roused by a voice close behind me saying,' Salve figlio rnio !
You look ill and careworn. Can I assist you V I. turned,
startled, to the side whence the voice came, and perceived,
270
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
standing by me, a wandering friar of the Capuchin order. He
was a man past middle age, with a kind and benevolent
countenance. He wore a long brown habit, with a hood, simply
fastened round the waist by a knotted cord; his feet and legs
were bare, and over his shoulder he carried a large and ap-
parently well-filled wallet.
"' In truth, padre,' I replied,' I am sick, weary, and hungry ;
and know not where to seek relief from ony one of those three
evils.' ' Nay, figlio, Heaven provides help, even when we,
miserable sinners, think it most distant. Lo, hear am J, sent
by Providence to remove those ills of which you complain,
because I conceive the two first arise from hunger and thirst.
Here are the means to satisfy both.' The good father quickly
sat down by my side and opened his wallet, from which he
took sundry eatables, and a small stone jar of very good wine.
'Now, figlio mioj said he, with a smile, 'in the name of the
blessed saints, begin. My wallet was filled this very morning
at the palace of the good Countess He Lera, and you are as
welcome to share it as my poor brethren of our very poor con-
vent; for we are of the begging order of Capuchins.'
 I thanked the worthy friar from my heart, for his store
was, in truth, most welcome. He ate sparingly himself, and
drank not from the jar, which he said was only for the sick
and weary, but from a clear, sparkling stream that issued from
the lofty rocks to lose itself in the sands at our feet. ' You
are not,' said the friar, ' one of this land, I know by your
tongue, though your Italian is purer than ours. Whence do
you come 1 You look as if you had suffered from long con-
finement.' Ihad no hesitation in stating the truth to the padre,
who listened to my recital with attention and interest. ' Figlio
mio,' said he, ' I rejoice at your escape. I love not war and the
cruelties it leads to. Heaven knows, we ought not to covet
the land of the stranger; for what with our own broils and
rivalry we can scarcely keep our own. Worn out and weak
as you are you could never cross our mountains into another
territory, and, no doubt, so important a captive will beeagery
sought after. Come with me to our poor convent. You will
be tended with care, and receive part of our homely food ; and
when you are well and strong you can depart, and none of
us will say Whence came ye ? or Whither do ye go ? Then, in
one of our habits, with God's blessing, you will be able to reach
a place of safety.' I attempted to thank him, but he stopped
me, saying,' We live, my son, by charity. If we did not obey;
by our practice, that Divine inspiration, could we expect our
own wants to be supplied V
 Assisted by my kind friend I reached his convent, built
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSFHORtfS. 271
upon the side of a steep hill behind the sweet village of Pagia.
The padre, simply introducing me as one who required rest and
shelter, led me to his own cell, one of the friars bringing a
pallet for me to rest on:
 Here I remained for ten days, which completely restored
me. The good padre would listen for hours to my narrative
of our struggles for liberty; and I faithfully promised, if it
pleased God to restore me to my country, and we regained our
freedom, I would establish a convent of begging Capuchins on
some part of the island. Being now sufficiently recovered, I
felt anxious to get out of the Genoese territory. My pious
friends furnished me with a Capuchin gown and hood, and a
wallet well stored. I embraced the whole fraternity, and
could not help shedding a tear as I parted from Padre Ga-
votti, who certainly possessed the real milk of human kindness
in his heart. I had studied well my road, from a very fairly-
drawn map of the mountains by one of the brethren, for they
all, by turns, start on a begging pilgrimage for two or three
months.
 In a week I made my way to Turin, where I cast off my
Capuchin habit, which had supported me the whole time. In
that city dwelt several of our Corsican exiles with their
families. I was, as you may suppose, received with open arms.
From the Signor Pasquale Rivalora, a Corsican advanced in
life, and who had settled with his family many years back in
Turin, I learned all that had taken place during my captivity ;
for you may be certain how my heart panted to gain some
intelligence of you, my beloved son. I heard of your gallant
resistance ; the death of Campaldino by your hand, and your
successful escape from Corsica. There was a rumour also that
the natives had again risen in arms, headed by your gallant
cousin, Sampiero. I fieed not tell you I burned to be amongst
the patriots ; and having been furnished with funds by the
Signor Pasquale, I made my way over the mountains through
Acqui, and reached Nice, where I procured a barque and sailed
for Corsica.
 Thus you see, my dear boy, my adventures were simple,
and unattended with any risk. Since the fall of Bastia, and
the total defeat of our enemies, I have endeavoured to esta-
blish a treaty of commerce and peace with France, and hope to
succeed. Genoa, alone, can never hope to cope with us again.
We must now take warning from the past, and following the
example of our foes, build defences to our harbours, supply
ourselves with arms and warlike stores, and above all, avoid
that rock upon which we have hitherto split—dissension and
disunion amongst ourselves.
272
the sunny south ; ok,
CHAPTER XLIII.
the expedition.
On a bright unclouded evening in the latter end of August
a large zebec left the harbour of Mariana, and, with a steady
breeze from the westward, shaped her course for Capraja. On
board this vessel was our hero, his cousin Count Otho Sam-
piero, and fifty picked men, amongst whom were Pulini, Luca
Manifesto, and Juliano. The two latter had earnestly entreated
to accompany the expedition. Luca Manifesto, after our hero's
arrival in Corsica, had been established on the general's estate
of Frealo ; his son Guido resided with his parents; but Paoli
determined, the moment he became settled, to take the boy
into his own homestead.
On board the zebec were arms for nearly a hundred men,
besides arms for the fifty men selected.
All were in high spirits, and animated with the most sanguine
hopes of success. It was the intention of Giacinto to make
the island during the night, and before the return of day
land all the men, arms, etc., in the vast caverns known to him.
The zebec was then to retire from the island during the day,
and at sunset to stand in for the cavern and watch for any
of the signals appointed to be made. It was a season of the
year when long continued fine weather prevails in the Medi-
terranean, interrupted, perhaps only for a few hours, by a
thunder-storm.
Antonio, the old Caprese fisherman, and his son, returned
with them. Their craft, a long and strong fishing-boat, and
capable of landing the whole party in two trips, was towed
astern.
Count Sampievo was a fine high-spirited youth, whose
bravery had been early displayed in defence of his native
land. Like most of the Corsican nobility of that period, he
had passed several years on the continent. Those years were
spent by the count with his powerful kinsman, the Colonna,
in Rome.
 It is nearly ten years, observed Sampiero, laying his
hand on the shoulder of his cousin, who was wrapt in a fit
of thought, "since you, and I, and Pulini, and a hardy crew,
visited the caverns to which we are now bound. How little
could we imagine that the discovery of these caves, when
seeking a place of refuge from a tremendous thunder-storm,
would be hereafter of so much consequence. Do you think you
perfectly remember the spot V'
"It is scarcely possible, Otho, returned Paoli, "to mistake
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
273
the singular rock that divides the entrance to the caverns. It
was its resemblance of a huge eagle, with its wings extended,
that first drew my attention to it ; hut had you not shot
an immense raven, we should never have discovered the
caverns behind it, inasmuch as the entrance into those vast
dens is so remarkably intricate and insignificant.
 Ah, signor, exclaimed old Antonio, the Caprese, who was
standing by the man at the helm, and who had heard the
above conversation,  I know the rock you speak of now ; for
I have fished for hours close off it, and often observed to my
son the tremendous roar of the ground-swell within. But
that is during the winter. The water within must now be as
still as a lake.
 Your late chief, said Paoli, turning to the Caprese, who
had just relieved the man at the helm, "was not of a warlike
disposition, but rather inclined towards tranquillity. It is
strange that the Genoese never attempted to take the island
during his lifetime.
"Alas, signor, for what purpose could those greedy re-
publicans want our little bit of land, which is not sufficient to
give food for its simple inhabitants 1 As to gold or silver,
the saints be praised, we have but little, and have lived very
happily without them. Our young men mostly depart as
sailors to various parts of the continent; those that remain
become fishermen, and carry what they take to Elba, Corsica,
and oftimes to Pisa and Livorno.
"Your late chief, nevertheless, was a wealthy noble, re-
marked Paoli.
 He was a pious and good man, and the saints interceded
for him, signor. As to wealth, he did possess riches ; for his
lady was a wealthy Italian heiress; but he spent a great part
in building the fortress and chapel. Castle Damari, a noble
mansion, was erected, we are told, after the Tuscan mode of
palaces, to please his noble lady. Then all the costly furniture,
and mirrors, and grand statues and pictures, were brought
from the continent. Alas ! alas ! signor, those cursed spoilers,
that are now in the fortress, stripped the castle of every
article, and divided the plunder. Nothing but the bare walls
is left to look upon now. Our present chief, signor, I have
heard say, has vast sums of money in foreign parts ; and it is
whispered that these robbers must have heard this, somehow ;
or what could tempt such hungry vultures to make a descent
upon our little island ?
"Your island, my good fellow, said our hero, "is of much
more importance than you imagine. In the power of Genoa,
jt would soon he turned into a place of considerable traffic. It
s
274
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OB,
possesses a fine haven, always full of shipping during the
winter months, besides being a key to Corsica. Your wine is
equal to if not finer than any of the Sicilian. There is a
chapel—is there not 1—dedicated to St. John, now enclosed
within the walls of the fortress, and some ceremony connected
with it.''
 Yes, signor, replied the Caprese,  very precious relics are
contained in that chapel. But the annual procession to visit
the shrine will, I fear, be stopped by those maladetto Genoese.
 Let me see, said Paoli, thoughtfully, and turning to his
cousin,  this is Monday—next Friday, therefore, is St. John's
day.
 I see, Giacinto, observed Otho ; "you have got some plan
in your head with respect to that ceremony and procession to
the chapel.
"Yes, if the procession is allowed to take place, responded
Paoli,  advantage may be taken of it. All I require is to
gain a footing in the fortress. The gates once ours, the rest is
easy. But, by all accounts, this entrance, if not taken by
surprise, is almost impregnable. The drawbridge falls over a
precipice of nearly a hundred feet perpendicular; and a pon-
derous portcullis beside ; and the path to the bridge is so
narrow that only two persons can walk abreast.
"By Jove, there will be something to do, exclaimed Sam-
piero ;  and report speaks of Mastino as a crafty and skilful
commander.
 We must use stratagem, Otho ; otherwise, the siege will be
a prolonged one. But see, the breeze freshens, and the moon
rises bright and clear to the eastward. We shall make the
island in less than an hour. In fact, it .looms now like a dark
mass of rock against the moon's rays.
Paoli was not far out. In little more than an hour the zebec
ran in under the high rugged rocks of Capraja, and, lowering
her sails, dropt an anchor. The sea being perfectly smooth,
she lay within five hundred yards of the shore.
Paoli immediately manned the boat, and, with his cousin
and Antonio, the Caprese, they pulled close into the rocks—for
it was on the western shore, facing Corsica, that the caverns
were situated.
A very short time sufficed to discover the marks. The Eagle
Rock was then found, and, having examined the entrance, and
fully satisfied themselves they were right, they returned
aboard.
In two hours both men and arms were safely landed on a
shingly beach at the mouth of the principal cavern. There
being no tide in the Mediterranean, the boat was hauled up
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
275
only a few feet from the water's edge; and then, prepared
torches being lighted, the men cheerfully carried the provisions,
arms, and fuel to an inner cavern, of which the immense extent
astonished all those of the party who had never seen the place
before.
It became very evident, after a fe\» moments' investigation,
that it was through these caverns the Genoese had entered the
island. Remains^of large fires were strewed over the sands,
and one or two broken weapons, such as those used by the
Genoese soldiers, were also found.
Leaving the men busy in lighting a fire and preparing a
meal, Paoli, with Otho Sampiero, Pulini, and the Caprese,
carrying pine-wood torches, examined those wonderful natural
vaults. Some were lofty and beautifully arched, almost leading
the beholder to imagine they were the work of man. One cave
led into another, in an apparently endless succession and
variety. At length Paoli succeeded in tracing, by the marks
of feet, and other signs, the passage that led into the interior
of the island. It was a narrow and somewhat crooked and
rugged succession of natural stepping-stones—in some places
difficult of access, and requiring strength and activity to sur-
mount. There were evident traces that, at times, the passage
served for a mountain torrent to find its way to the sea.
After half-an-hour's scrambling, accompanied by a few falls,
which threatened, at one time, to leave them to find their way
-back in total darkness, they came to the mouth of the passage,
which was concealed by an entangled mass of various kinds of
low and luxuriant underwood. Leaving their torches safely
in a fissure of the rock, they pushed their way, with some diffi-
culty, through the brambles, and stood fairly within the
island, on a hill looking down into a valley of about two miles
in extent.
Nothing could exceed the astonishment of Antonio, the
Caprese. In a moment he recognised the hill on which they
stood. The moon was then high in the heavens, and threw a
flood of silvery light over the whole valley beneath them, while
they, standing under an immense and lofty rock that hung
over the entrance of the cave, were in deep shadow.
 This is most strange, signor, observed the old fisherman ;
 had we but known that the Genoese had thus entered the
island, they would never, few as they really were, have con-
quered us that night. We were stricken with fear, signor ;
for we thought they were not human beings ; and, when we
did come to blows, we imagined they were protected by sorcery
and magic.
"You know the island well, Antonio, no doubt, observed
S 2
276
THE SUNNY SOUTH J OK,
Paoli.  Could you take me from here to the house of your
late podesta without traversing the town or habitable part of
the island 1
 You need not he seen by a single human being. To the
right, signor, on the summit of yon hill, about a mile off, you
see the tower of Cauro. VThere are twenty men in that tower,
with an officer. At the foot of this hill we are upon lies the
road from the tower to the Castle Damari. ^ou can discern,
signor, its towers rising over that clump of tall trees at the far
end of the valley. From the castle to the town it is not half a
mile. By going to the south of the castle, by a narrow path,
you can reach the back of the town, for the houses all run
along the beach of the inner harbour ; and many of the best
residences—especially that of the podesta—have large gardens
extending far up the hill above the harbour. I can therefore
take you in broad daylight, without any risk, to the podesta's
house, by the back of the castle.
 That will answer my purpose well, returned Paoli.  What
say you, Otho, to a stroll to the castle 1 It is not more than a
mile and half across the valley, and Antonio says there is a
direct path at the foot of this hill.
"Most willingly, replied the young count.  I shall not
sleep this night; and I feel a desire to have a peep by moon-
light into the castle of the stout crusader.
Pulini would have said it was a useless risk ; but, knowing
of old how fruitless it was to advise caution to his somewhat
headstrong master, he contented himself by proposing to go
with them.
To this his master objected, and insisted on his and Antonio's
return to the caverns, instructing them to place a massive wax
torch, which they had brought with them, in a split of the
rock at the entrance, and materials to strike a light.
Having thus settled how they were to return, the two young
men left both squire and fisherman, and proceeded carelessly
down the hill, which was of easy descent—being, in fact, a
sheep-waik—for, as they went on, numbers of those animals,
and also of goats, for which Capraja is famous, started up out
of their path.
At the foot of the hill—for neither hedges, walls, nor fences
were in their way—they came upon the road leading from the
town up to the tower of Cauro.
It was a still and lovely night, and the moon threw a flood
of light over the valley. In half-an-hour they came up with
the noble belt of trees encircling Castle Damari on three sides.
Turning the wood, they reached the front of the castle, as
Antonio had indicated, The building was more after thQ
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
277
fashion of the Italian villas than an embattled mansion; still,
the towers and bastions of the crusader's castle remained, and
somewhat oddly—though by no means disagreeably—mixed in
with the modern building. Neither ditch, moat, nor bridge was
seen. Along a stately fagade ran a row of pillars; and a
marble portico, of great height and classic form, gave entrance
to the mansion. The large doors were gone, excepting some
pieces, which were still attached to the massive hinges. As
the young men continued their observations, they perceived
evidences that the mansion had undergone a kind of siege.
The pillars, in places, were defaced ; the windows, of beautiful
form and of stained glass—a rarity at that period in so remote
a locality—were broken and shattered ; and signs of desperate
strife were still visible everywhere.
 They must have made a very tolerable fight of it, said
Sampiero,  notwithstanding they thought their enemies gifted
with sorcery. Let us have a look at the inside.
Paoli did not reply, for his thoughts were at that moment
with Agnes.
Passing beneath the portico, they entered the spacious hall,
along each side of which ran a range of marble pillars, sup-
porting a lofty gallery, the further end illumined by an im-
mense gothic window of stained glass, through which the
moon's rays fell dimly upon all within, leaving many places in
deep shadow. Between each pillar of the hall stood the carved
figure of a warrior, looking, in the uncertain light, like the
grim guardians of the crusader's hall; while above floated the
remains of several torn and defaced banners. This air of
desolation affected the young men with sombre thoughts, from
which they were startled by the tread of a heavy foot in the
porch.
 Keep in the deep shadow, whispered Sampiero ;  your
figure and height are remarkable. If spoken to, and this in-
truder be a Genoese, let me answer.
Paoli stepped behind a pillar in deep obscurity, and Otho
Sampiero turning, beheld, standing in the doorway, a tall man
in breastplate and helmet—for the moon's rays fell full upon
him from the casement opposite. As Otho turned, a deep, full
voice exclaimed,—
 What ho, there ! Come forth, whoever you are. No
skulking, or, by the mass, if I go in to hunt you out, I'll lay
the flat of my sword on your back in a way that will make you
smart. Cospetto ! who are you, lurking about here after the
hour ?
Quietly drawing his sword, Otho advanced towards the
speaker. His attire was, purposely, very simple, and neither
278
(The sunny south ; or,
armour nor arms had he, excepting the plain sword he carried
in his hand. Though the stranger was standing in the full
light, Otho Sampiero's features and figure were but dimly per-
eeptible.
 And who the diavolo are you ? exclaimed the man, step-
ping a pace back. "And armed, too ! How is this 1 By the
immortal Jove, you will pay for your intrusion, or my name is
not Achilles Furiani! 
 Signor Achilles Furiani, if that is your eccellenza's name,
replied the young count, "I crave your pardon for a poor
artist who prefers studying the picturesque, like your worship,
to taking men's honest rest.
 Studying the devil!  roughly answered the Genoese ;  I
never studied anything more picturesque than a hamper of
good wine, or a goodly town to be sacked and pillaged. An
artist, are you ? How the devil did you get here 1 What has
an artist to do with a sword 1 If you are a native, which I
doubt, for I never beheld you before, you are liable to a fine,
first, for being out after the hour allowed ; next, a heavier
penalty for having a sword. Give me that weapon in the first
place, and then follow me. Are you alone 1 I certainly heard
some one speaking as I was passing.
"We artists, Signor Furiani, often indulge ourselves in
speaking when alone. I was talking to the dead.
 Corpo di Bacco !  hastily interrupted the Genoese,  you
are not in earnest, are you ? Is the ghost of the old crusader
troubling his old halls %
 So they say, signor, quietly, and with a smile, replied
Otho.  But I was not talking to so distinguished a ghost ; I
was merely apostrophizing the dead, who, in my imagination,
once peopled this mansion. Here is the sword, Signor Achilles;
I picked it up, and suppose it must have been left here by
some of the late combatants. As to who I am, if you wait till
to-morrow, the ex-podesta, Signor Buttaficcio, will inform you.
In reference to the fines, I freely offer you these ten dollars to
pardon my strange habits. The coin will be much better,
Signor Furiani, in your pocket than in the public fund, which
they would doubtless be to-morrow, when you would be obliged
to disclose my offence to your commander.
Money was one of the idols which the worthy Achilles
adored. At the mention of ten dollars, a sum five times the
amount of the fine, he rubbed his hands together, and, with a
quiet laugh, replied,—
 By the mass, worthy artist—if such you are—you are a
sensible fellow, notwithstanding this whim of yours in study-
ing the picturesque. Ha ! ha ! ha ! 
the battle on the bosphortts.
279
And he laughed heartily as the count quietly placed the
money in his huge hand.
"This, resumed he, "is substantial at all events. Keep
the sword, my friend—it is of little value, I see—and keep this
meeting of ours to yourself. Study away, amico. Give my
respects to the shade of the crusader, should he happen to pay
you a visit; and remember—my name is Achilles Furiani;
my quarters are in the old tower of Cauro ; and if you will take
the trouble of mounting the hill, I will give you a hearty wel-
come, for you seem a very decent and well-bred youth, and we
will contrive to empty a flask or two to our better acquaint-
ance. Now, listen to me. As you live with old Buttaficcio—a
relation I suppose, eh ?■—just say to his pretty niece Annette
that"—and here the giant heaved a tremendous sigh—
"Achilles Furiani is dying for love of her. Corpo di Baccol
I am grown so thin from pining that the straps of my cuirass
have had four fresh holes made to tighten it on me. Adieu,
my worthy !—the night wears away. Don't forget to visit
me.
 Never doubt it, replied Otho, with a smile.  I will visit
you, Signor Furiani, and, depend upon it, we will crack some-
thing more than a flask between us. AddioP
Furiani repeated his adieu; and, turning away, his figure
was lost beneath the deep shade of the lofty trees.
CHAPTER XLIY.
the ex-podesta and his nieces.
After the departure of the Genoese adventurer, Otho Sam-
piero rejoined Paoli.
 By the Pope, Giacinto, said the young count, laughing,
 that's a monstrous big fellow. I do believe if I, unluckily,
had not had the gold about me I must have measured swords
with him.
"You managed admirably, Otho. Any broil would have
been ruinous to us. To have slain him would have betrayed
some plot meditated by the natives ; and to have carried him
a prisoner to our cave would have been out of the question ;
had I gone forth to meet him, I must have had a contest with
him ; for, strange as it may appear to you, that is the very
officer who commanded the troop that made me prisoner at
Pera. To do him justice, he was humane enough. He sent at
once for a leech, and left directions that I should be well
tended. I heard his name afterwards, and there is no doubt
he would have recognized me at once. But we must be stir-
ring in a few minutes, when the moon will be down, and we
280
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
can then cross the valley -without being observed, even should
this man suspect you are not what you represented yourself to
be. We must, however, guard against discovery to-morrow,
and be with the Signor Buttaficcio early, before our worthy
Achilles has time to make inquiries.
 Do not be alarmed about that, Giacinto, returned Sam-
piero ;  the fear of having to share the gold with his worthy
commander will keep him quiet. So now let us be moving.
The young men crossed the valley, ascended the hill, and
easily found the entrance to the cave. Pushing back the
brambles, they went in and there found Pulini and the others
wrapped in their rough mantles and sound asleep. The squire
started to his feet in an instant, with an exclamation against
his drowsiness.
 So you would wait for us, Pulini ? said Paoli, smiling kindly
upon his faithful attendant.  In truth I guessed as much.
After a rough scramble over the difficulties of the path, the
party reached the caverns, and found almost all the men
wrapped in their cloaks, fast asleep round the dying embers of
the fires ; for, though the month was August, the vaults were
extremely cold.
Luca Manifesto and Juliano were sitting apart, keeping up
a good fire, and preparing a supper for their young chiefs
against their return.
Otho Sampiero, being of a lively and high-spirited disposi-
tion, seemed highly to enjoy their present expedition. Seating
himself by the fire, he willingly commenced an assault upon
the good things before him, and Paoli followed his example.
Then, wrapping themselves in their mantles, they endeavoured
to get an hour's repose. With nothing to disturb his thoughts,
Otho soon fell into a sound slumber. Not so Paoli, whose
mind was too busy with the events to come—too full of deep
anxiety concerning his betrothed—to think of sleep. He lay
quietly beside his sleeping friend. A profound stillness
reigned around, broken only by the breathing of the sleepers,
and the low murmur of the gentle ripple as it broke gently
on the beach in the outer caverns.
At length the dull grey light stole gradually within the
caverns ; the lights had expired, and, as the daylight increased,
the men roused from their slumbers and started to their feet.
Some immediately kindled fires for cooking ; others went out
to bathe in the clear and sparkling water which gently flowed
to their feet ; while others took their arms and cleared them
from the moisture which had fallen on them during the night.
Paoli now roused his cousin ; and, after a simple breakfast,
they each put on a shirt of mail beneath their garments, and
THE BATTLE ON TnE BOSPHOKUS.
281
covering their persons with the common coarse mantles worn
by the natives, they summoned Antonio to conduct them to
the mansion of the Signor Buttaficcio. Pulini alone accom-
panied them. Luca Manifesto received from Paoli full in-
structions how to act in case they should not return by mid-
night. Then, calling the men together, our hero desired them
to follow the directions he had left with Manifesto, and on no
account to show themselves in the outer cavern during the
day, for fear some passing fisherman might observe them and
give the alarm.
Having cautiously examined, from the mouth of the cavern,
that the coast was clear, and no person within view, our party
emerged from the thick coppice which grew around the aper-
ture, and descended the hill. Their guide then struck into a
very narrow bye-path, leading through some rich pastures and
extensive vineyards. They continued thus across the valley
without meeting any one ; though, in the distance, they ob-
served several of the natives coming out to their occupations
in the fields. They next ascended a tolerably steep hill,
crossed another valley extremely rich in vines, and climbed
another and higher hill.
 From the summit of this, signor, observed Antonio,  you
will have a fine view of the town and fortress, which lie im-
mediately beneath us. I have taken you a great circuit pur-
posely to avoid meeting any of my townsfolk, which might be
inconvenient.
"Yes, returned Paoli; "if possible you must avoid being
recognized for a few days, when, please God, we will free this
beautiful little island from its invaders.
In half an hour they reached the summit of the height,
and were enchanted with the extent and beauty of the view
disclosed to their gaze. Around them frisked innumerable
goats. The appearance of these animals in nearly every part
of the island has given it its name. The town of Capraja
consisted of many handsome mansions, considering the place
and the number of inhabitants. Several of the houses had
large gardens, extending up the gentle acclivity whereon the
town is built, and which surmounts the beach bounding the
waters of the inner harbour. The outlet into the exterior
roadstead is extremely narrow, and bounded on each side by
high ranges of rugged rocks. Across this entrance, at the
period of our tale, a ponderous chain extended to a tower on
the opposite side, preventing any attempt to land an enemy ;
for nowhere on the rocks of the outward haven could an
assailant land and gain the interior of the island.
To the fortress Paoli first turned his attention. Being
282
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
erected upon a mount, projecting over the waters of the inner
haven, it covered its entire summit, which consisted of a con-
siderable level space. The fortress was a quadrangular edifice
of great strength, flanked by low massive towers. On the
broad ramparts Paoli could distinctly see (for it was not more
than a mile distant) many persons moving about and armed.
The sun's rays flashed, at times, upon mail and steel. The
only entrance to the garrison was up an exceedingly narrow
path, partly steps cut in the rock, and at the ponderous gate-
way this path was divided by a deep fissure or ravine in the
rocks, above sixty feet deep, and only to be crossed by the
drawbridge being lowered from the fortress,
Paoli scanned its defences with a keen and anxious eye, as
well as the distance would permit, and he felt satisfied that
his former conjectures were right; for the fortress, if well
provisioned and defended by resolute soldiers, might defy, for
many months, ten times their own number.
 That is a strong place, Giacinto, said the count, following
the direction of his cousin's eyes ;  and if we have to attack
it openly, will take us time, and cost us many a brave fellow.
How the deuce did it happen that the islanders kept such a
careless watch and guard as to be surprised by a mere hand-
ful of men? Antonio now confesses that the Genoese were
not more than eighty, if so many; and the town then con-
tained upwards of six hundred men, able and willing to fight.
 Yes, returned Paoli,  willing to fight when the fortress
was won, and when they were convinced that the invaders
were not devils, or men led on by sorcerers. But it was too
late then ; for fifty men once in possession of yonder bridge
and gate could keep it against a thousand for a few days ; and
it seems, by all I have learned, that in three days this Achilles
Furiani brought from Genoa a force of five hundred men, who
were landed under the walls of the fortress. We must now
see what we can do by stratagem. If we can once get footing
on the other side of the bridge with our fifty men, let this
crafty Genoese look to his garrison to save him. I owe him
too much not to be anxious to clear scores with him. The
gate once ours, there are, Antonio tells me, still a couple of
hundred of hearty men ready to fight for the rescue of their
chief. How let us on ; for, perhaps, your friend of last night
may be so heated by his love for this fair niece of the
podesta as to hurry here before us.
 Except that I am safe, as far as my heart is concerned,
said Otho, laughing,  I might think of robbing him of his
blue-eyed Annette ; for all the girls of this island, I am told,
have blue eyes.
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORTJS.
283
 Well, returned Paoli,  I can answer for one in it now
not possessing the national colour. Her mother was one of
the dark-eyed daughters of Venice.
"By Jove, I long to see this betrothed of yours, Giacinto,
interposed Otho.  But here we are at the gate of the Signor
Buttaficcio's mansion, or rather garden. How are we to ; .
in ? By the look of the garden, it is a long way to the
house.
 I saw the signor's niece, at least I think so, observed An-
tonio,  come into the garden just as we left the hill. I was
waiting behind purposely to see if any one came out of the
house.
"Knock, then, said Paoli. "If we receive no answer, we
must even take the liberty of going over the wall.
Pulini, who was very anxious to get in, fearing the passing
of anybody, knocked and knocked hard. Presently, a voice
from the other side—a female voice cried out,  Amico, amico,
not so hard. You will either deafen me or break our door—
two bad things these bad times ; for if you make me deaf I
shall not hear my lover ; and if you break our door you will
let in those horrid Genoese.
With the last word the door fell back, and an extremely
pretty and laughing damsel, with blue eyes and a profusion of
auburn ringlets, hanging somewhat negligently, perhaps co-
quetishly, from beneath a small Tuscan straw hat, appeared.
"Eh ! Who have we here ?  exclaimed she, starting back.
But, catching a glimpse of old Antonio, who stood nearest the
door, she continued,— The saints preserve us ! Is that you,
or your ghost, Antonio 1 Where 
But as her glance fell upon the stately and remarkable
figure of Paoli, and her eyes met his, she involuntarily stopped
and drew back.
 Pardon our rough intrusion, fair maiden, said Paoli,
stepping within the garden. "No doubt, this is an unusual
entrance to your domicile. But we must see your good uncle,
and at once.
 Ha !  muttered the maiden to herself, "a very nice-spoken
man, and the tallest and handsomest I ever saw. Then
speaking out, she said,— My uncle is coming up the garden,
signor. She pronounced the last word with a very marked
emphasis, and a rapid glance at Paoli's hand. The Signor
Buttaficcio, with his other niece, now hurried up, seeing so
many strangers in his garden.
Paoli advanced to meet him, while Sampiero, notwithstanding
his confession that his heart was already engaged, stopped to
converse with the pretty Annette, who seemed vastly puzzled
284
the sunny south ; or,
about tbe strangers, who were so grand in their air and man-
ner, and yet so plainly habited—•
Paoli whispered a few words in the ear of the Signor Butta-
ficcio which made him start, while his face flushed with ex-
citement. His nieces were watching with eager curiosity ; but
Paoli made a sign to Sampiero, and immediately the whole
party hurried into the house, leaving the two girls gazing at
each other with astonishment.
"Well, exclaimed Annette to her sister Julia, "here is
something, at last, to set our wits to work. Don't let them
think to deceive me with their attire and rough mantles. Did
you observe that stately and majestic man, a whole head above
the other handsome signor 1 Did you remark his hand 1 He
had a most splendid diamond ring on one finger ; not a very
well assorted article to the habit he had on. Then, did you see
the start my uncle made, and how he pulled off his cap, and
bowed low, and then looked up at us quite confused 1 Ah,
Julia, here is some secret we must find out.
 But how, Annette, how eagerly questioned Julia.
 Oh dear, how dull you are, Julia, responded Annette.
 They are gone into a private chamber. Thank goodness, all
our doors have very large keyholes ; so come along. I am
dying to know who these signors are.
And immediately the two maidens hurried into the house.
L CHAPTER XLV.
the conference.
Utterly confounded, bewildered, and eager to learn what to
him appeared to be a stupendous mystery, the ex-podesta con-
ducted the whole party into a commodious chamber, carefully
closing the door. Whether the worthy Signor Buttaficcio
distrusted his nieces or the old housekeeper (the only domestic
he retained), he very carefully adjusted the key in the key-
hole so as to fill the orifice. He then repeatedly shook our
hero by the hand, asked a hundred questions at once, when,
being very short-necked and extremely fat, he stopped for
breath.
 As to how we got into the island, Signor Buttaficcio, began
Paoli, "must be kept for another time. I have several impor-
tant questions to ask you. First, supposing I succeed in
gaining the entrance to the fortress, are the men of the island
willing to lend a helping-hand against the invaders ? 
 Willing, Signor Paoli!  eagerly replied the ex-podesta,
"they are burning to revenge the outrages daily practised
the battle on the bosphorus.
285
against us. But we have no arms : there is not a sword, or a
pick, or a dagger in the whole town !
 I will remedy that, signor, responded Paoli.  Now for
my next question. Will the procession to the relics in the
fortress chapel be permitted to take place on St. John's day ?
"Blessed Virgin! exclaimed the old man, "how fortu-
nate!  And he rubbed his hands in an ecstacy. "Without
a thought, signor, of anything of this kind, I obtained that
very permission from the Genoese commander, on the promise
of paying a certain sum he has demanded, and which I am to
take him this very day.
"That is fortunate indeed, exclaimed Paoli; "for on that
procession I build my hopes of surprising the guard at the
bridge and gate.
l(. I see it all now, interrupted the ex-podesta, in a state of
high excitement.  If we had but the weapons, and a few
trained men-at-arms to 
"Be easy on that score, interposed Paoli. "We have both.
When did you see the Marchese Damari and his daughter 1 I
trust they are well.
"Well in health, Signor Paoli, but wretched in mind.
This maladetta Campaldino threatens to force the Lady Agnes
to the altar the day after St. John's.
 Ha !  muttered Paoli.  The day after ! Campaldino
will find we have an account to settle before that. Now Signor
Buttaficcio, a very important question yet remains, and then
I will let you clearly into my plans for St. John's day. Sup-
pose I contrive to get fifty men here to-morrow night with
arms for a hundred more, where are they to remain till the time
for action ? It will be but for a few hours. Still 
 That is easily provided for, interrupted the ex-podesta.
 I have a long range of warehouses adjoining this house where
we salt our stock of fish, and where they will be perfectly safe
from either being seen or heard.
 You said, Signor Buttaficcio, that this was the day you are
permitted to visit the Marchese and his daughter. Then,
taking from his finger the splendid ring remarked by the ex-
podesta's niece, and which was a gift from Agnes, he handed
it to the Caprese, saying— Present that ring to the Lady
Agnes ; and, if you can, whisper to her that the owner is near ;
and, with God's blessing, will be within the walls that hold
her prisoner before the sun of St. John's eve sets. Should you
not be allowed to see the Lady Agnes without witnesses, con-
trive, nevertheless, to let her see that ring, the motto of which
is, Esperanza. She will understand it well.
 I may not §ee theni alone, signor, said the Caprese;  but,
286
TIIE SUNNY SOUTH } OR,
depend on it, I will contrive she shall see the ring, and in a
manner that the Lady Agnes may not betray herself or me by
sudden emotion or confusion of manner.
Paoli then clearly explained how he intended proceeding on
St. John's day. The podesta was in ecstacy ; he was a most
inveterate hater of the Genoese, and an ardent lover of liberty.
Besides, he owed them a grudge for depriving him of his title
of podesta, of which he was exceedingly proud.
Having acquainted the Caprese with their renconter with
Achilles Furiani, and put him upon his guard, Paoli thought
it best to return at once to the caverns. The ex-podesta wished
them to remain till night, for fear of attracting observation;
but all the party were of opinion they incurred less risk in re-
turning the way they came ; for the entrance to the caves was
in so remote and obscure a spot, and so hidden by projecting
rocks and thick underwood, that no danger of being seen would
occur ; and, perhaps, during the absence of Signor Buttaficcio
at the fortress, some visitor or unforeseen event might create
observation.
Accordingly, after partaking of some refreshment and
drinking a flask of wine to the success of their expedition,
Paoli and his friend and attendants departed for the caverns.
CHAPTER XLYI.
THE GOVERNOR AND THE EX-PODESTA.
"Now, dear uncle, said Annette to the ex-podesta, as she
assisted the old gentleman to fill two tolerably large bags with
various coins, the amount of the sum levied by Campaldino—
 now do tell me—for I am dying to know—who is that mag-
nificent stranger, and the very handsome man with him 1 I
must know—that's positive.
 Why, child, I tell you they are merchants from Piombino,
come to buy up the stock-fish and salt cod on speculation.
The two girls burst into a hearty giggle. Annette laughed
till the tears ran from her eyes.
 Merchants of stock-fish, indeed !  ejaculated she, patting
the old man on the cheek ;  oh, my dear, good uncle, you may
deceive those abominable Genoese, but you can't blind your
two little nieces. Ho merchants of stock-fish wear diamond
rings, worth I can't say how much 1 Ho merchants of stock-
fish make presents of diamond rings 1 for I see the same ring,
uncle, on your finger, though you are doing your best to hide
it. And do fish merchants carry swords under their mantles in
a place where swords are forbidden ? And, as sure as I live, I
saw, as he went in at the door, and the nail caught his vest—
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
287
"Well, you inquisitive little vixen, said the uncle, smiling,
and tying up his sacks,  what did you see 1
 I saw a beautiful cuirass of chain-mail, like that of the
crusader in the fortress, on the breast of the tall signor. So
confess at once—out with it all— and the maiden shook her
finger playfully,  or I will tell that huge giant of a Genoese,
Achilles Furiani.
 I will lock you up in your room this instant if—but no,
added the ex-podesta,  I may as well make a clean breast of
it, for they must know it to-morrow ; and, after all, the dear
children would willingly risk their lives to serve the Lady
Agnes.
So the old gentleman sat down, and made his two nieces
acquainted with all.
Annette clasped her hands—blushed—then grew pale ; and,
finally, sprang upon her feet, and kissed her sister Julia several
times, saying,—
"Oh, how delightful! We shall get rid of those horrid
Genoese. My beloved Lady Agnes will be free, and then she
will marry that glorious Signor Paoli. We shall have a
splendid wedding-fete. The whole island shall be a blaze of
bonfires—and I—
 There, for the love of the saints, stop, interposed her
uncle.  Get me my hat. I have plenty for you to do besides
talking. All the stock-fish, &c., must be taken into the small
store ; and you must do it yourselves. At this moment, there
is, luckily, not much. Then you two and old Bridgetta must
bake cakes without end, and roast those two kids, and prepare
all the provisions the house, contains. Let no one either see or
hear you. Keep out all visitors till my return. And now
I am off.
On entering the fortress, the Signor Buttaficcio was admitted
into the presence of the governor, who turned his keen eye
upon the worthy and somewhat excited Caprese. A satisfied
expression stole over Campaldino's features, as he perceived his
visitor lay upon the table two heavy bags.
 I see you are punctual, my worthy friend, said the go-
vernor, desiring the ex-podesta to take a seat.  The tribute-
money, I suppose 1
 Yes, your eccellenza; I have contrived to make it up—
though the saints are witness it has cost me much to wring even
the half out of my poor countrymen.
 The old story—always the same song, returned Campal-
dino, laughing.  I dare say now, if I absolutely wanted as
much more—don't be alarmed, for I may not want it.
 Where is it to come from \ interrogated the ex-podesta,
288
THE SUNNY SOUTH J OR,
feigning to be dreadfully alarmed.  We have no gold mines,
or even iron ones, here, your eccellenza.
 Look you, my good friend, interrupted the Genoese,  the
fitting-out of the expedition to take this beggarly little island
—dont be offended, signor—I see you don't like the name. It's
not pleasant ; therefore, you see I do all I can to convince
myself that I am wrong to think so. But, as I was saying,
the costs of the expedition, have not been defrayed by—what
shall I say 1—by the plunder. Therefore, I am now thinking
of selling my rights in the conquest to the government, who
will, of course, send a new governor and a much larger force.
The new governor will expect a handsome—a very handsome
present. Now, I feel for you, as I am actually getting fond
of 
 I see, resumed Campaldino,  that word sticks in your
throat, my good friend ; but I have a way of getting you out
of this dilemma. You have heard that I have offered myself to
the Marchese's daughter, and have been refused. The maiden
pleads a former attachment. That's all very well; but, under
the existing state of things, she must make up her mind to a
different determination. I gave the lady till St. John's day to
consider of my proposals. If then she is unwilling, I must
(though I greatly regret it) use the power in my hands, and
force her to unite her destiny to mine. Now, this morning, I
have received intelligence from Genoa that forces me to alter
those resolutions. She must, therefore, now at once give me
her solemn promise to go willingly to the altar immediately
after the ceremony of St. John's day. She—as my wife—and
her father will sail with me, for I intend quitting the island
that very night. The next day the new governor will arrive.
Why, Signor Buttaficcio, you look alarmed. But there is no
need. An ancient feud continues between me and the new
governor. I shall sail, but my lieutenant, Furiani, will retain
the command of the fortress till the arrival of my successor.
Go, now, and see the maiden, for she refuses to see me. If she
gives me her sacred word to go willingly to the altar on
St. John's day, I will wait till then ; if she still persists in an
obstinate refusal, by  (and the Genoese raised his voice,
and his one eye flashed) "by the bones of St. John, and all the
sacred relics contained in your chapel, she shall stand this
blessed day at the altar, and never quit the spot till the priest
makes her mine. Now, do you understand me, Signor Butta-
ficcio ?
The spirit of the old Caprese was nearly betraying him at
this audacious menace from a miserable adventurer to a
daughter of the ancient and noble race of the Damari; but,
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
289
curbing bis feelings, he bowed humbly, saying,  You know,
your excellenza, I can but use persuasion. She is our lord's
daughter, and I can only humbly entreat her to do that wil-
lingly which she has no power to resist.
 That is all I require of you, Signor Buttaficcio, returned
Campaldino.  She has refused to admit me to her presence. I
do not wish to use force, if I can obtain my end quietly. But
my purpose I will gain, be it as it may ; for alive she shall never
quit this fortress, except as the bride of Andrea Campaldino.
1 shall await your return here. You know the way to the
marchese's apartments. E^|J
With a very heavy heart, the Caprese, bowing, left the
chamber. As he did so, who should he meet in the corridor
but the lieutenant, Achilles Furiani.
 Ha ! Signor Buttaficcio, exclaimed that worthy,  is this
you ? Delighted to see you looking so well; and, holding
out his huge hand, he gave the unfortunate podesta that
was a shake which turned his already red face to a purple hue.
 How is your charming niece, Annette 1 continued he.
"My heart is parched to a cinder. She consumes me. But
stay—don't be in a hurry. Who is that good-looking fellow
that resides with you 1 I am told he is an artist. Droll place
this—now I think of it, eh 1—for an artist.
"Nothing droll, worthy Signor Furiani, in a nephew coming
from Rome, where he is studying, to see his old uncle. But,
Signor Achilles, I am bearing a most important message from
your commander to the marchese—so excuse me.
"Oh! nephew, eh ?—maybe, muttered the Genoese. "By
all the saints, I must have that girl for a wife, and get out of
this cramped island, where, by Jove, there is no foom for a
man to stretch his limbs !
Leaving Furiani to seek his commander, the Signor Butta-
ficcio proceeded to the apartments assigned to the marchese.
The ex-podesta found the Marchese Damari alone, reclining
dejectedly in a large chair, and gazing out through the open
lattice upon the broad expanse of water surrounding his native
island.
"Ah, my worthy friend, is it you? said the marchese.
extending his hand, with a very sad smile.  This boon of
seeing our old and valued friend deserves the warm thanks of
my heart; for, amid the deep affliction in which we are plunged,
I was eagerly wishing for your arrival. I have one chance
more to save my child from death—for her death it will be, if
dragged to the altar by that detestable adventurer.
 Be of good cheer, my lord, responded the Caprese,pressing
T
290
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OB,
affectionately tlie hand held out to him. Then, bending down
his head, he whispered,  Your deliverance is nearer at hand,
thank Heaven, than you imagine.
"Ha! What mean you, my worthy friend 1 Ho not raise
hopes the more cruel when crushed.
At that moment the lady Agnes, hearing the raised voice
of her father, and his somewhat excited tone, entered the
room.
 Ah ! my dear young lady, exclaimed the ex-podesta,
taking the hand held out to him,  you have been weeping.
But I trust the tidings I bring will chase away the tears, and
restore the roses to your cheek.
Letting go the hand of the young lady, he went to the door,
looked carefully without, closed it, and then, taking Paoli's
ring from his vest, he held it forth to the maiden. With
clasped hands, and, at the first sight, pale as monumental
marble, stood Agnes, gazing upon the ring. Then once more
the bright blood flew over face and temples, and the words,
 Paoli! Esperanza !  burst from her lips. Wild with delight,
she threw herself upon the neck of her astonished father, say-
ing,  Father, beloved father, my heart tells me we are saved ;
for Paoli, my beloved, is here. This is his token. She took
the ring from the delighted Caprese.  From none other than
himself did our kind friend here receive it. Is it not so,
Signor Buttaficcio ?
 Happy am I, dear lady, to say such is the fact. But
listen to me, for time runs on, and I have to state startling
things. We must bring ourselves to use deceit, or at least
dissemble with our tyrant.
The Signor Buttaficcio then distinctly stated all the plans
of Paoli; and subsequently delivered the message of Cam-
paldino.
At first the maiden grew pale and trembled, while the proud
blood of the crusader, for a moment, was roused in the patient
and gentle nature of the marchese.
 What!  he exclaimed,  my child — the last of the
Hamaris—give her sacred promise to stand at the altar with
this Genoese bloodhound ? Let us perish in each other's arms
first; for the word of a Damari, even to such as he, once passed,
must be fulfilled ; and should our deliverer, by some unforeseen
accident, fail on that day, my child 
 Hay, beloved father, I have no fear, none, responded
Agnes.  I will accede to this man's terms. Heaven is on
our side. At all events, it is a case that has no remedy ; for
this bad man would assuredly drag_ me to the altar this
night.
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
291
"Ido not deny,my beloved child, said themarcliese, "but
tbat you are right. Misfortune has somewhat broken my
temper. We will, therefore, act as you say ; and if it is the
will of God that Paoli should for a time fail in taking this
fortress, I have a remedy which I think may even then avert
your fate. Campaldino's idol is gold. Surely the great
wealth I possess in Florence and Pisa—if I offer him the
whole—will induce him to resign his designs upon you 
"Nay, father, replied Agnes,  not so. Campaldino seeks
revenge,—a greater passion than even that of gold.
The marchese sighed ; and, after some further remarks, the
Signor Buttaficcio left them. Agnes, full of hope ; her father,
with feelings dulled from age, resigned, but fearful of the
future.
While the ex-podesta was communicating with the father
and daughter, Achilles Furiani entered the chamber where the
governor awaited the return of the Signor Buttaficcio.
 I come to hear the news, governor, said Furiani, seating
himself carelessly opposite his commander, and looking ex-
tremely well pleased at his enormous limbs as he threw one
over the other.  I have also to give you a bit of
information.
 Well, out with your information, whatever it is, replied
the governor;  for I rather suspect we have had quite
enough of our conquest.
<£ Ha, by St. Jacomo, you are right !  returned Achilles.
 This place is too confined for men of our genius. I am,
moreover, of opinion, if we do not get out of it quietly, we shall
have to depart rather hastily, if not be carried out on a
stretcher.
"Cento diavoli/ said Campaldino; "what makes you
think that, Achilles 1 No one has heard the intelligence I
received this morning.
 Well, you shall hear. I was up very early, or rather went
to bed very early, this morning; and it being a glorious sun-
rise, and feeling rather heated, I went to take a little fresh
air from the top of the tower, when, just standing out from
under the land, I beheld a very fine zebec at some distance off.
I also observed a large galley. A fine tramontana was blow-
ing, and in a few minutes I saw the zebec run alongside the
galley, which was crowded with armed men. I thought, at
first, it might be the galley with the troops you sent for to
Genoa ; but, as she came nearer, I saw at once she was not a
Genoese craft by her build. The zebec remained near her for
a few minutes, when both tacked and stood away ; one to the
292
THE SUNNY SOUTH J OR;
southward, the other to the westward, reducing their canvas,
though the wind was light enough to carry every stitch they
could set. I was too sleepy to think much about it then ; but
now I have had my nap, on turning the matter over, it's
cursedly suspicious.
 It's nothing more than I expected, said Campaldino, very
coolly ; "only they are very expeditious.
Furiani fixed his large dark eye on the one orb of his
commander, and then whistled.
"Now, resumed Campaldino,  I will tell you, not only my
news, but how we must act. -I have received intelligence, this
morning, by those Elba fishermen whom I employed as spies at
Bastia, that not only has my enemy Paoli returned, but that a
galley, with six hundred men, was to be shortly fitted out for
an expedition against this fortress. You are aware that I
sent to Genoa for a stronger garrison ; for, should Corsica
recover her liberty, we might depend upon being attacked.
But this very morning our craft returned, bringing me letters.
There is nothing but mourning and dismay in Genoa. Their
fleet has been scattered and destroyed by the Venetians—the
French have declared war against the Republic ; and they are
expecting a French fleet. Moreover, the lord of Milan has laid
claim to some disputed territory ; and, as a climax to our
misfortunes, a popular tumult amongst the silk-spinners,
backed by the powerful family of the Spinola, has led to a
change of Doge. I am desired to evacuate this island, and
return with the men garrisoning the fortress to Spezia, and
join my force to that of the Count Brignioletti, who is besieging
Sarzana, the worthy count of that name having declared that
his town's people and territory owe no obedience to the
Republic.
 C'orpo di Bacco !  exclaimed Achilles, rubbing his huge head
as usual,  you bother me when you come to politics. I know
nothing whatever of any of the parties you have been jumbling
together this last half-hour; nor do I desire to understand
anything about them. I want simply to know when you
marry this marchese's daughter. What's to be done next ?
For I intend following so good an example ; and if pretty
Annette will not have me for a husband, she must even follow
my fortunes without that clog round her neck.
Campaldino stared at his lieutenant, and then, shrugging
his shoulders, said,—
 Listen ! To-morrow this ceremony to the relics will take
place. As soon as the procession enters the fortress, we shall
up with the bridge and keep them prisoners till we are ready
the battle on the bosphorus.
293
to leave. March your twenty men here to-night, as soon as
dark. After my marriage—for I will marry this girl, or my
revenge is lost—I shall embark the men under the command
of Gavotti, with orders to proceed to Genoa, while you and I,
and our wives, will sail in the galley for Pisa ; and, sharing
the fortune of my bride between us, live quietly anywhere on
the continent of Italy. I am sick of this wild, roving, and
uncertain life which we have led for so many years.
 Give me your hand, Andrea. Your plan is a splendid one.
Corpo di Juda ! What a pleasant life we shall lead, taking
care of our wives, nursing our young ones, and exchanging our
swords for ploughshares!
Campaldino burst into a fit of laughter.
 What a nurse you will make, Achilles! But a truce to
joking. We must look out sharp. If that galley should be a
Corsican one, full of men, and enter our harbour to-morrow,
adieu to our projects of escaping to Italy. My revenge against
Paoli I shall have at all events. In such case, we must make
our escape from the island through the caverns. I trust the
two boats are safe 1
 No fear of them, said Achilles,  for they are hauled high
up into an inner cavern, and almost impossible to be hurt by
anything except an earthquake.
CHAPTER XLYII.
narrative op otho sampiero.
Paoli and his party reached the caverns without observation,
and found their men quietly enjoying their mid-day repast
beside the fires. Luca Manifesto and his nephew, while ex-
ploring the caverns, discovered the two boats, each capable of
containing thirty men, drawn high up in a cave, on the other
side of the rock, and covered over carefully with tarred canvas.
There were oars, masts, sails, &c.
"I have no doubt, said Paoli, "they keep these boats, in
case of extremity, as a means of escape. As we know not
what might occur, the best way would be to knock out a plank
in each.
This was accordingly done.
 By the by, Otho, said our hero, to his cousin, as they
reclined on their mantles before the fire, after having finally
arranged all matters relative to their expedition, "the evening
is long. We shall not move till after midnight, so as to give
the men a few hours' sleep. I have not heard your adventures
after our parting. Your not joining me in Venice caused me
294
THE SUNNY SOUTH;. OB,
much, uneasiness and anxiety. Let me know how you passed
your time till we were again united before the walls of La
Rocca.
 I will do so, cousin mine, willingly, though one part of my
narrative will recall a melancholy event, and some bitter
recollections of one who merited a far different fate.
"After the death of Mastino Campaldino, you know we
agreed to separate, and, as nothing further could be done in
the cause of our suffering country, to escape to the continent.
I first proceeded to La Rocca, and just contrived to secure
some jewels, money, and plate before a strong party, under a
Genoese captain, took possession of the place. Disguised as
peasants, young Gaffieri and I, with six others, made our way,
with difficulty, to Orto ; and, in the darkness of a tempestu-
ous night, got on board a large fishing-boat moored to the
quay, and, cutting her from her fastenings, we drifted, with
the gale from the land out to sea. Rejoicing at our escape,
(for we had been hotly pursued from La Rocca) we paid little
attention to the gale, as, the wind being off shore, the water
remained tolerably smooth for three or four miles. But as we
rapidly increased our distance, the sea became uncommonly
rough ; and, to steady the boat, we were forced to hoist a small
portion of sail. I was the only one of the party that had any
knowledge of nautical matters ; and all I knew was how to
steer, and, if necessary, pull an oar.
"We drove before the gale for about three leagues in
tolerable comfort; but it increased tremendously. The night
was dark enough ; but as the gale increased in fury, a dense
fog came with it. I was perfectly aware that, with the wind
as it then blew, provided we could keep the boat free, we
should make the Italian coast easily the next day. The fog
was so dense that we could not see the length of ourselves
ahead, and the boat was nearly full, notwithstanding our
strenuous efforts to keep her free of the seas that broke over
her, when one of the men in the bow called out in a voice of
terror, ' A vessel coming right down on us !' The fact was we
were driving right into her, as she was crossing our course.
The next instant we struck with tremendous force.
"Our boat was dashed to pieces; but, singular enough,
excepting one poor fellow, we all' contrived to lay hold of
something, and scrambled on board the strange barque, and, but
for some bruises and blows, we were safe and sound, returning
thanks to Providence for our most unlooked-for preserva-
tion.
 The crew of the caravel were, at first, more frightened
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORES.
295
than ourselves, and fled below, thinking they were boarded by
ladri-di-mare, by which cowardice we were all nearly swamped,
for the barque was deeply laden, and her helm neglected. She
ran up in the wind, and then her close-reefed sail blew out
into strings, and she shipped a sea that caused her to tremble
from stem to stern, and to leave us in doubt whether she was
not inclined to follow our unfortunate boat. We soon, how-
ever, re-assured the startled padrone and his crew ; and, after
some little exertion, the vessel was got to rights, and another
sail hoisted. The caravel was a Livornese, bound to Cagliari,
in Sardinia, which she was not just then destined to make ;
for, so violent became the storm, that, during the night, she was
forced to run before it. At last she was driven to take shelter
in the mouth of the Tiber, and cast anchor at Ostia.
 However unfortunate this was to the interests of the
padrone, it was the very thing that suited Gafiieri and myself,
as we both wished to proceed to Rome. We sincerely trusted
that you had succeeded in making the Italian coast. Having
landed at Ostia, we proceeded at once to Rome. Gaffieri's
sister had married, some years before, a Corsican signor, who,
previously to the breaking out of the war, had sold his pos-
sessions, and settled in Rome, where many of our exiled
countrymen resided.
 I proceeded at once to my uncle Alberic, Count d'Orsini,
who received me with parental kindness, and took up my
abode at his palace till I had made up my mind what to do.
I found that my uncle's family were engaged in a furious
contest of rivalry with the proud and powerful house of the
Colonna. Rome had returned to its old state of anarchy and
confusion, after the banishment of that mad enthusiast, Cola
Rienzi, when suddenly, to the astonishment to all, Rienzi re-
entered Rome,Actually appointed by Innocent the Sixth to
govern the city, under the title of senator. The fickle Romans
welcomed his return with boisterous joy, forgetting, in their
love of change, that but a short time had elapsed since they
drove him from their city, with imprecations on his head.
But it is ever thus with the people. Nevertheless, his popu-
larity, in a very short time, began to decline. Misfortune
had by no means improved the disposition of the tribune.
His former enthusiasm was exchanged for suspicion and
cruelty. But I leave Rienzi and his motives to our historians.
I have little to say of him, but of one connected with him by
ties of blood.
 On his return to Rome, Rienzi was accompanied by his
niece, who was famed throughout Italy for her extraordinary
296
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
beauty, her wonderful eloquence, ber marvellous talent as an
improvisatrice, and her enthusiastic love of freedom. Her
addresses to the people of every town through which Rienzi
passed in his wanderings were the wonder and delight of all ;
and, in more than one city, her eloquence induced the people
to rise and throw off their yoke of slavery. So powerful was
said to be the effect of her language upon the lower classes,
that many of the princes of the small Italian states closed
their gates against her entrance.
 Berenice Rienzi—such was the name of the beautiful, but
unfortunate, improvisatrice—accompanied, as I said, her uncle
to Rome, and took up her residence in a noble mansion, where,
in a very short time, she attracted, by her splendid assemblies,
her brilliant wit, and superb beauty, all that was noble and
wealthy in Rome. Many of the young nobility became des-
perately enamoured of her beauty ; but the most conspicuous,
from his birth, talents, and power, was Ercole Colonna, ac-
counted the haughtiest and proudest of all the Roman nobility,
and the determined rival of Alberic Orsini.
 One evening I accompanied Orsini's nephew, a young man
of my own age, to one of those splendid fetes given by Berenice
Rienzi. The saloons were crowded with all the nobility, male
and female, in Rome. A man must, in truth, have had a most
insensible heart, to move amid that scene of luxury and
beauty and remain unmoved. The splendid decorations of
the apartments—the chaste and graceful taste with which
everything was arranged—attracted, without dazzling, the eye.
But when once the gaze rested on Berenice, the beauty of
everything, animate and inanimate, faded.
"The improvisatrice was sitting on a raised platform, sur-
rounded, as usual, by her train of admirers and lovers. She
held a lute in her hand, though, at that time,%he used it not.
She was in one of her inspired moods. I could see by the
flash of her dark eyes, the rapid changes of colour that went
and came upon the full and beautiful cheek, and the graceful
motion of one hand, that she was speaking ; though, as I stood
at a little distance, the words did not reach my ear. But
when I did hear her voice (for I contrived to get much nearer
through the dense crowd) every word went to the heart.
When she ceased, a murmur of delight and enthusiastic
admiration burst from the throng around her. She then rose
and walked through the saloons, leaning on the arm of the
haughty Colonna.
"If every feature of Berenice's face was perfection, the
beauty and grandeur of her form was unequalled. She was
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHOIUTS.
297
above the usual standard of her sex : every movement of her
full and rounded figure excited admiration from the unstudied
grace that accompanied it. After being introduced to thi3
siren, I became, like the rest of her followers, perfectly
fascinated. I bowed at the shrine ; and, whether my youthful
vanity blinded me or not, I fancied that, except when Ercole
Colonna was present, Berenice bestowed most of her attention
upon me.
'A superb fete was given by Berenice. The company was
to descend the Tiber, towards Ostia, in splendidly decorated
galleys, or rather barges, to examine the ruins of temples and
other buildings lying on its banks—remnants of the gigantic
puissance of the ancient Romans. The barges were to be drawn
Back by oxen. Though the party was a select one, the
haughty Colonna, from some caprice, declined to join it.
There was, however, one cavalero for each dame. It was a
bright and glorious morning. The heat of the autumnal sun
was tempered by a gentle west wind, and bright masses of
grey, fleecy clouds sailed slowly across the sun, and threw
many fanciful shadows over the scenery, and on the muddy
waters of the rapidly-gliding Tiber. The party occupied a
raised platform in the stern of the galley, protected by a slight
railing, decorated with flowers. We had a select band of
musicians in the prow; and, as we glided past the city, and
gained the open campagna, the band broke the stillness by
their enlivening strains. We were carried along solely by the
waters of this turbulent and somewhat dangerous stream.
After passing the famous temple of Vesta, the river bends
away to the northward, with increased rapidity. We had
skilful pilots, and, heedless of the risk of the voyage, listened
to the inspired eloquence of the goddess of the fete as she
descanted upon the glories of ancient Rome, and of that idol
of the human race, Liberty.
 The oxen, decorated with garlands, were yoked to the
barge in order to return. As we slowly ascended, I was in
earnest conversation with Berenice. The subject of our talk
was Corsica,—the love of the people for freedom, and their
hatred of a foreign yoke. Berenice was better acquainted
with our annals even than myself. She traced our history
back to the earlier times, when Cadmus, the son of Agenor,
wandering in quest of Europa, came to our island, which was
then named Calista. He left there many of his countrymen,
with his own cousin Membleareus. ' Eight generations after
this,' Berenice continued, quite enthusiastic in her theme,
< Theros brought a colony to Corsica from Lacedemon.
298
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
 'This Theros, who was originally of the race of Cadmus,
carried with him to Corsica the Mmyee—a wandering tribe
—and formed there a new colony . From him the island was
called Thera.
 'The Minyte, though a wandering tribe, were of illustrious
descent, being the posterity of the Argonauts.' Thus did
Berenice account for the first peopling of Corsica ; but the way
that Isidorus accounts for the name of Corsica is most amusing.
He declares that a Ligurian woman of the name of Corsa, having
often observed a bull swim over to the island,* had the curi-
osity to follow him in a small vessel, and so discovered where
he went. Relating, on her return, this marvellous swim of her
bull, the Ligurians sent there a colony, and called the island
Corsica. Its next masters, she said, were the Carthaginians. From
them the island passed under the dominion of Rome. Lucius
Cornelius Scipio conquered Corsica about the period of the
first Punic war, and forced the natives to pay a tribute of one
hundred thousand pounds of wax yearly.
"Berenice had just brought our history down to the period
from whence we ourselves take it up, and was descanting on
the cruelties practised upon us by nearly all our conquerors,
when a sudden and violent shock was felt on board the barge.
A wild shriek followed. The tow-rope had snapped, and the
barge coming broadside to a violent rush of the current round
a point, caused her to heel suddenly on her side. Berenice,
another signora, and Signor Guilia (a learned antiquarian)
were thrown against the rail, which broke, and, in an instant,
the three were plunged into the river. Being a good swim-
mer, I threw oft' my vest and sword, plunged in, and instantly
caught the sinking Berenice in my grasp. She was perfectly
sensible and tractable; and I swam down the stream till I had
an opportunity of landing, with my precious burden, on a low
point. As soon as she recovered breath, I assisted her a little
way up the bank ; where, being exhausted, she reposed herself
till the barge, which had been driven on the bank by the cur-
rent, could make its way to us. Berenice expressed the deepest
anxiety concerning the fate of the young Countess de Man-
fridi and the Signor Guilia. I proceeded along the bank some
way, hoping, if the unfortunates had been carried down the
stream, I might yet afford assistance. But no trace was to be
seen of them; and the barge was rowed to the spot where
Berenice sat.
 When I returned, a sad gloom hung over the before gay
* A tolerable swim—that of nearly a hundred miles.
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
299
party ; so like everything else in human life—rising in smiles,
setting in tears. The countess was providentially saved by one
of the cavaleros, hut the ill-fated antiquarian perished ; nor
was his body ever recovered—washed, I suppose, into the Medi-
terranean. It was a mournful return to the eternal city. After
seeing the Lady Berenice to her palace, in a covered litter, I
returned, immersed in somewhat melancholy reflections, to the
Orsini mansion.
 If Rienzi's niece was dangerous to me before, you will allow
that my situation was now tenfold more trying. Ijhad saved
her life; had rescued her from an ignoble death ; and yet,
though fascinated, dazzled, bewildered—strange waywardness
of the human heart—I was not prepared to cast myself and
fortunes at the feet of the improvisatrice. We met. I know
not why I should be so forgetful ; but I remember neither
what I said nor what she replied. On a sudden, the door of the
saloon was thrown open. I was at the feet of Berenice and
held her hand. At the door stood Ercole Colonna ! He spoke
not a word, but stood like a statue, with his face pale as marble,
and his lips quivering with intense passion. Berenice, uttering
a faint exclamation, became even paler than the Colonna. She
rose, and, pressing her hand to her lofty brow, hurried from the
saloon through another door without uttering a word. Co-
lonna, with a laugh that startled me, turned on his heel and
retired.
 I stood confused and perplexed. I knew not what to infer
from the conduct either of Berenice or Colonna. ' What tie
exists between them 1' I asked myself, as I slowly and
thoughtfully left the palace. The streets were thronged with
an excited populace; but I heeded neither their cries nor tumult,
but pushed my way through the multitude, scarcely caring
which way I went, so as I cleared myself from the presence of
my fellow-men. Reaching the Colosseum, I plunged amid its
solitude to be alone with thought. The cool air that rushed
through the vaulted passages by degrees calmed the fever of
my blood ; and as I crossed what was once the arena of many
a bloody spectacle, I beheld the Count Colonna advancing to-
wards me. I did not turn away, and the next instant we stood
face to face. The count was still deadly pale, but there re-
mained no visible trace of passion upon his severe but
extremely handsome features.
 ' I have followed you here, Count Sampiero,' said the Co-
lonna, speaking calmly and emphatically. ' And may I inquire,
count,' I said with equal coolness, ' for what purpose you have
been pleased to dog my footsteps 1' ' Simply,' returned the
300
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OK,
Roman, 'to make this proposition : either that you quit this
city, or take your chance of sleeping beneath the marbles of
San Pietro.' ' You are generous, count,' I replied, with a some-
what bitter smile. ' Quit this city at any man's bidding
I will not; neither do I relish, at this moment, sleeping, as you
term it, beneath even the superb marbles of your glorious San
Pietro.' ' You are somewhat dull, count, in taking my mean-
ing,' retorted the Roman ; ' but I will speak more plainly.
The Colonna brooks no rival in the affections of Rienzi's niece.
Two cannot possess her, and, while I live and wear a sword,
none shall dispute my claim.' ' If the lady has given you a
claim, Sir Count, I have neither the right nor the wish to dis-
pute her will or choice.' 'All this is idle, Sir Corsican,' re-
turned Colonna, losing temper and speaking in a scornful tone.
' Draw !' And he himself drew his sword. ' One or other of
us two must be carried from this spot.' ' I owe you no enmity,
Count Colonna, and I regret that you force this foolish contest
on me ; but I do not wish to trouble any one with the burden
of my body, and will, therefore, keep life in it as long as
possible.'
 Whether because he saw me undisturbed by passion, or
some inward feeling urged him on, I cannot say ; but Colonna
fought with an impetuosity that deprived him of his usual
skill ; for, though I determined only to remain on my guard,
and, if possible, disarm him, yet his strength and skill so baffled
me that, heated myself—for I was hard pressed—I attacked in
turn, and, in the end, though I bitterly regretted it, I stretched
him, severely wounded, at my feet. Sheathing my unlucky
weapon, I bent down, and, raising his head, strove to staunch
the blood. Just then I heard quick steps behind me, and,
raising my head, perceived four or five of the Colonna family
hurrying to raise their lord. With scowling looks and threats
of vengeance they raised the insensible Colonna, and, covering
him with his mantle, they bore him from the Colosseum.
 In a frame of mind by no means to be envied, I left the
place, and soon after became mingled in a dense crowd of the
very lower orders of Rome. Shouts of 'Down with Rienzi!
Death to the tribune !' and many other popular cries, re-
sounded on all sides. Bands of retainers, armed to the teeth,
and having the badge of their various houses, joined the mob ;
and presently, to my horror, I beheld Rienzi himself in the
hands of a furious multitude, who were dragging him to exe-
cution. I thought of Berenice, who idolized her uncle. She
had often declared she would never survive him if he fell in
the cause of Liberty.
the battle on the bosphorus.
301
 I struggled with the crowd to get close to the once vene-
rated champion of Roman liberty, when the mob suddenly
paused before a noble palace, for a female voice, even in that
fierce tumult, arrested them. I looked up and saw Berenice
Rienzi standing on the balcony, as, with outstretched arms
and excited features, she harangued the mob. The wonderful
flow of impassioned words which fell from her inspired tongue
had its usual effect; even the ruffians that held Rienzi fell back
and hesitated. Profiting by their apparent indecision, Rienzi
himself hastened to pour upon them his usual eloquence.
There is scarcely a doubt that he would again have gained
their hearts, when a gigantic ruffian, with his arms bare to the
shoulder, pushed through those surrounding him, and with a
knife stabbed the tribune to the heart. The next moment my
sword was passed through the body of the wretch. A wild
and piercing shriek rent the air. I was rushing forward—for
Berenice frantically threw herself from the balcony—when I
received from behind a tremendous blow of a mallet, which
stretched me senseless on the ground.
 When consciousness returned, I perceived I was lying upon
my own couch in the Orsini Palace. It was many days before
I could ask the questions I longed, yet feared, to ask. A party
of the Orsini retainers had seen me in the crowd, and rescued
me when a huge smith had felled me with his hammer. Alas !
the rest of the intelligence chilled my heart for many a day.
The gifted, the noble Berenice was no more ! Though caught
by the people in her fall from the balcony, she afterwards
broke a blood-vessel in her agony of grief; and, in less than
twenty-four hours, uncle and niece were laid low.
The Count Sampiero here paused for a few minutes, pained,
no doubt, by the recollections of that period. Giacinto, after
giving some directions to Pulini, roused his cousin, who
resumed his narrative, which we shall continue in our next
chapter.
CHAPTER XLVIII.
sampiero's narrative continued.
 rome, continued the Count Sampiero, "after this incident
became hateful to me. Ercole Colonna was recovering from
the wound he had received ; but I fear his heart suffered a
greater in the death of the ill-fated improvisatrice.
 Gaffieri was gone to Naples, and I resolved, now that I was
so sadly awakened from the dream that had bound my senses,
to proceed to Venice and make inquiries after you. A tedious
302
SUNNY SOUtfH ; Ott,
and dangerous journey I had of it. I got no further than
Pisa, when I gained intelligence that completely changed my
intentions. I heard from a countryman of ours, who had been
in Yenice, that the Venetian fleet had sailed for the Eastern
seas, and that you had the command of a galley in the expe-
dition. There were also in Pisa several Corsicans who had
recently fled the island, as the persecutions and exactions of
the invaders had increased tenfold.
 To my astonishment, I learned that that traitor (not that
I was aware he was so then) Antonetti—who, you know, was
next heir to my estates in default of issue—had sworn allegi-
ance to the Genoese Government, and handed over a third of
my possessions to the Genoese governors as the fine. He then
quietly sat down in my paternal castle of La Rocca, to enjoy
at his ease my forfeited property. At the period of my escape
from Corsica, Tomaso, the son of my old huntsman, Domeni-
clrino, accompanied me as my attendant, and a faithful, de-
voted follower he proved. As soon as he heard this intelli-
gence, he said that he and his father always suspected that
Antonetti was playing a double part ; for that, during his
absence with me in the mountains, the Signor Antonetti had
visited La Rocca and Castle Ranuncio, and endeavoured, by
bribery and other means, to discover where the family treasure
was buried. Tomaso strongly advised our returning to Corsica
in the disguise of sailors, that we might look after Antonetti,
and, if necessary, remove the hidden property.
 I myself felt a wish to return. I had lost all chance of
joining you by my long stay in Rome ; and it required very
little persuasion to induce me to adopt Tomaso's plans. Being
neither tall nor short, nor very remarkable in any way, I in-
curred very little risk. Disguised as a Pisan sailor, and having
found the padrone of a small barque bound for Porto Vecchio, I
took passage with him. I so far trusted him as to let him
know we were Corsican exiles, anxious to return and live
quietly under the Genoese Government; indeed I might, had
it been necessary, have told him who I was, and that a price
was set upon my head. There was no fear of him. The Pisans
detest the Genoese, who have destroyed their commerce.
"We reached Porto Yecchio after a short run, and, landing
without attracting any observation, we took the road across
the country towards Monte Bavello. Avoiding the places gar-
risoned by Genoese, we reached, the third evening, a peasant's
hut on the borders of my own domain of La Rocca. The owner
of the hut, who very cordially gave us the usual welcome, was
a stranger to me, though not to Tomaso, who, however, kept
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSEHORTJS.
303
his features much concealed. The man—a fine, hardy, reso-
lute-looking fellow, placed the best fare he possessed before us ;
and, while eating, I asked a few questions about the state of
the country. At first the peasant answered rather surlily ; but,
changing my tone, I spoke to him in the patois peculiar to our
part of the island. He started, looked at me for a moment, and
tben answered with greater civility and less reserve,—
 ' You are a Corsican, signor,' said he. ' How came you and
your companion so far from the coast, and in the garb of foreign
sailors ?'
 I replied,—
"'We were glad to get employment under a Pisan padrone.
We came thus far inland to inquire after relatives.'
"'You had little luck to come back here,' replied the
peasant. ' 'Tis only now that the cursed tyranny of our op-
pressors is really felt. We are ground to the earth.'
 'And is all the spirit of our countrymen gone ?' I replied.
' Is there not a spark left to kindle a flame that would consume
these maladetto tyrants 1'
 ' Sparks enough, as you call them,' returned the man, ' but
who is to collect them! There are no chiefs on the island who
do not cringe to their masters ; ay, and grind us peasants to
make up the tax levied upon them. If we murmur, they hunt
us from our homes like dogs. If we fly to the mountains, those
cursed adventurers drive us out with bloodhounds. Ah,' con-
tinued the peasant bitterly, ' when will a Paoli, a Rivalora,
and a Sampiero raise again the standard of Liberty ! Those
were the chiefs that fought and bled for their country, and sold
their lands, not to live in luxury on a foreign soil, but to help
their people and save their native land.'
"' I suppose,' I replied, taking an interest in the man, ' we
are now on the lands of the Sampiero family, though they have
passed, I judge, into other hands.'
"' Yes, you are now on the property of our young count—the
saints preserve him wherever he is ! I have never seen him,
for, during the last war, I fought under Rivalora. But the
lands are now claimed by his traitorous cousin, the Signor
Antonetti, who is employed with that cursed Genoese, Casa
Bianca, the commander of Porto Yecchio, hunting the country
round for the treasures said to be buried by the Sampieros ;
but, by St. Antonio, he is well watched! Old Domenichino is
on their track. I am wrong, perhaps, in talking thus even to a
countryman, though I see plainly enough you are not what yOu
wish to be thought. But I have been hunted twice like a ban-
dog. Let them do it again (he clutched the knife at his
304
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
girdle) and they will find this long enough to reach their black
hearts.'
 ' Nay, Nicolo, Nicolo,' exclaimed a young and handsome
woman, coming from a small chamber adjoining, with a fine
child in her arms, ' do not he getting into a passion. You
promised me, Caro, for the sake of our dear little one, not to
let your temper '
"' There, wife, say no more—I am dumb. Curse them !
You won't deny me that pleasure 1'
"' Perhaps,' said I, ' you could guide us to where old
Domenichino is. I am a friend of your chief, and have much
to say to his old huntsman and bailiff. I wish also to know
what has become of Yanina, the daughter of the Count
Cecaldi.'
 ' As to guiding you, signor,' replied the peasant, changing
his tones and manner, ' to where old Domenichino defies his
enemies, till I know you and your purpose, you must excuse
me. Respecting the Lady Vanina, who was thought to be
betrothed to our young chief before the wars, she fell by an
unlucky chance into the hands of Casa Bianca, who says he
holds her as a hostage in order to keep her numerous vassals
(who broke out several times into insurrection some months
back) in check. She is, I believe, in Castle Ranuncio, which
Antonetti and Casa Bianca are fortifying. Indeed, it is said
that Antonetti is to wed the heiress, giving a third of her pos-
sessions to this Casa Bianca. Again, they say the Genoese
refuses to give him the maiden unless he finds this treasure of
our count's ; but the place where it is buried is known only to
Domenichino : accordingly, a large sum is offered for the stout-
hearted old huntsman. But he and his grandson defy them.
They have already shot four of Bianca's soldiers.'
"'By St. Anthony,' suddenly exclaimed my hitherto silent
attendant, ' by St. Anthony, Nicolo, you will hardly refuse to
tell the son where he may find, and die in defence of, his brave
old father!'
"'Tomaso Domenichino !' joyfully exclaimed the peasant,
starting forward to grasp the hand of my follower, who stood
up and uncovered his face. ' How is this 1 You are,' said he,
turning to me, ' our chief! The saints be praised ! '
 The poor fellow's joy was, in truth, great, and I had some
difficulty in calming his deligbt.
"' You must not, however, loiter here, my lord,' resumed
Nicolo, 'for Antonetti's bailiff comes to this cottage almost
every day. In fact, I am only staying here by the desire of
Domenichino to watch their doings at La Rocca; so, if you are
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHOBtTS.
30
not too fatigued, we will set out this moment for the hiding
place of the huntsman and his grandson—for he will give yo-
information you little expect.'
 To this I willingly agreed, for I at once made up my min
to rescue Yanina from the hands of her persecutors. You knoA
that Yanina and I were brought up together ; for her fathei
the Count Cecaldi, was my guardian. I had not seen th
maiden for several years. She was scarcely fourteen then, an<
a very pretty girl she promised to be.
"We were soon ready to set out, Nicolo having taken froi
a secret place his bow and a couple of stout hunting spears ; fc
our way lay through a very wild tract of forest land, full c
the most savage race of boars in Corsica.
 ' Nicolo ! Nicolo ! ' exclaimed his wife, as we were leavin
the hut, 'you are going without the Petra quadrata.'
 I turned round on hearing those words, and beheld th;
famous relic of our ancient superstition. No one stirs withor
this charm in our province.
 What the deuce is it 1 interrogated Paoli;  I neve
heard of it.
 I dare say not, replied Sampiero.  Though I am
native of the province myself, I never, to my knowledg
heard of it till the unfortunate Berenice, in speaking of tf
antiquities of Corsica, mentioned this stone. It is a sort >
mineral, found in little square bits, hard like marble, in coloi
resembling iron ore, and heavy as lead. How it came 1
acquire its mystic virtues I cannot say; but even Nicolo,
shrewd, clever fellow enough, when I laughingly asked i
properties, gravely replied,—' No ill-luck will happen to tl
wearer, if an honest and true man.' He added that it w
rare to find, and many wore false bits. His, he affirmed, w.
veritable Petra quadrata. I made no reply; but, glad
have in my hand a good tough boar-spear, we set out.
''For three hours we traversed a wild tract of countr
meeting whole herds of our wild and high-spirited horses. Y
then entered a vast pine wood, and, in two hours more, just;
the moon rose above the snow-capped summit of Mon
Rotunda, we entered the picturesque valley of the Azinao, in
which, from a prodigious height, tumbles the river Azing
forming a splendid cascade. It took us full two hours
ascend the hill, that rises almost perpendicularly over t'
torrent.
"' Here we must now pause,' said our guide.
"And, by the mass ! it was time ; for a more laborious
dangerous journey on foot I never made, I was fairly tired,
V
306 THE SUNNY SOUTH ; 01!,
nearly two years had elapsed since I had so exercised myself ;
and Nicolo had declared, in setting ont, that few, excepting
the mountaineers of that wild district, could scale the rocks
and hills of the valley of the Azinao.
a c At the other side of this hill, and near the cascade, said
Nicolo, ' are encamped the traitor Antonetti and his party ; and
not a thousand yards from us is the hiding-place of old Domeni-
chino. When you are rested, my lord, we will proceed. You
will travel the rest of the way by ropes.'
"I looked round me. We were then standing about two
hundred feet above the cascade of the Azinao, on the brow of a
hill covered with gigantic pines, for which this part of Corsica
has been famous ever since the time of the early Romans, who
are said to have built so prodigious a ship of the pines of
Corsica that she carried fifty sails. The whole side of the
hill down which I looked was covered with the arbutus, or
strawberry tree. In the clear moonlight the scene was en-
chanting and sublime, while the roar of the falls came
distinctly to the ear. To my right rose a most singular
rock, above a hundred feet high, against whose steep sides and
polished surface the moonbeams were glancing.
 After a few minutes' repose, Nicolo gathered together
several of the conical pine-seeds, and striking a light put it to
the soft, tinder-like bark of a tree which the peasants use for
that purpose. In a minute a bright blaze shot up into the
air, and lasted nearly a quarter of an hour, while I anxiously
watched the result, guessing it to be a preconcerted signal.
 ' Look up to the summit of the rock, my lord,' said Nicolo.
As I did so I beheld a dark object show itself over the cliff,
which I soon perceived to be the head and part of the body of
a man, and then another by its side. A low whistle was now
heard from above, to which Nicolo replied by another of a
peculiar sound ; and shortly after I saw a rope-ladder descend-
ing the perpendicular side of the rock.'
 ' How on earth did old Domenichino get up there 1' I
exclaimed ; ' for, per Bacco, there is not footing for a goat any-
where.'
 ' Some years ago,' said Nicolo, ' the old man was hiding
in this part. You must have heen a child at that time.
It was during one of our unfortunate risings against our
oppressors. On the summit of this rock the huntsman beheld
one of those strange animals we call Muffoli. They resemble
a stag, but have horns like a ram. When hotly pursued, these
animals will cast themselves from the top of a precipice, and
pitch upon their horns without any hurt. Domenichino, with
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
307
a bolt from his cross-bow, killed the animal, but it remained
on the summit; and, finding it impossible to ascend the rock
anywhere, he and his comrade cut with their axes a young pine
from this clump, and, laying it against the side of the rock,
succeeded, after some difficulty, in gaining the summit. On
examining the place, Domenichino at once determined on it as
a place of refuge. You will see, on ascending, what a singular
place it is.'
"Nicolo ascended first, to prepare the old man for my
appearance. I then followed, and was welcomed by my faithful
old retainer with enthusiasm. He embraced his son with tears
in his eyes, for he confessed he never expected to see him again.
' A pretty eagle's nest you have, Domenichino ; why, half a
dozen men might keep this eyrie against fifty.'
"He then, led the way into a deep hollow, formed in to
several spacious caverns in the sides, in one of which the
huntsman and his grandson made their present abode. They
had brought various articles into it, making it a tolerably
comfortable retreat.
"' It is a safe nest, my lord,' said the old man ; ' but a poor
place wherein to welcome the owner of the broad lands
around us.'
"' You have suffered much, my good Domenichino ; and the
pleasure of seeing you here is greater delight to me than I can
express. Your grandson is grown into a fine youth. I wish
both you and he had accompanied me to Rome, where I might
have settled you happily for the rest of your days.'
"'What!' exclaimed the old man, 'and left the traitor
Antonetti to fill his own coffers and those of Casa Bianca with
your gold, and the spoils of -your house ? ISTo, no ! I swore
to watch and protect it, and I have done so. Crafty as he is,'
chuckled the old huntsman, ' he may turn up all the land on
both sides of the Azinao, from Bavello to Dwino, and explore
all the caves beneath the cascade, but not a zechino or a
goblet of silver will he find. It's all safe, my lord,' and he
rubbed his hands with glee,—'money, plate, jewels, all safe,—
and not fifty yards from here, excepting the massive plate, and
that lies three fathoms deep in its iron chests beneath the
waters of the lake of Azinao.'
 I pressed the old man's hand, and inquired how he had
contrived to move it from its original place, and whether my
treacherous kinsman had obtained any hints as to its where-
abouts.
"' He has certainly procured some knowledge as to the
vicinity, though not the exact spot,' replied Domenichino, ' for
308
THE SUNNY BOUTH ; OR,
lie has never ceased turning up various places near the cascade
of the Azinao. The money and small cases I and my grandson
conveyed here in various journeys, and hoisted them up by
ropes. Hicolo and his wife's two brothers (better or braver
patriots there are none) helped us with the chests. I contrived,
one stormy night, to creep so close to the tent in which Antonetti
and Casa Bianca were sitting drinking, that I overheard a
conversation which made my heart beat wildly, and which, my
good lord, will transport you with joy. So prepare yourself for
a wonderful story. General Paoli is still in existence, and has
escaped from the prison in Genoa! Casa Bianca was also
speaking of the ruption between France and Genoa, and the
expected withdrawal of the French force from Corsica.'
 But, not to weary you, Giacinto, this intelligence so in-
spired me that I resolved to raise the standard of revolt the
moment the French troops should be withdrawn. 'The first
thing to be done,' said I to the huntsman, ' will be to seize
upon the persons of Antonetti and Casa Bianca, and carry
them with us to the fastness of Monte Bavello. Do you think
you could raise some fifty of my retainers for that purpose 1'
'Ay, my lord. In twenty-four hours, I engage to assemble
around us two hundred as good and brave fellows as any on
the island.'
 To shorten my tale : In three days I mustered nearly two
hundred men—poorly armed, it is true, but resolute, and willing
to die in the cause of their country. We attacked Casa Bianca
and his party of treasure-hunters. The commander was a
fierce soldier, and fought stoutly; but, being surprised, he was
slain. Antonetti was secured, and we carried him with us to
the hills. In three weeks the French troops had quitted the
island, and before twenty-four hours had elapsed a hundred
signal-fires blazed upon the summits of our hills. The whole
of our province now flew to arms ; and, at the head of a strong
force, I surprised Porto Yecchio, and released my beautiful
cousin. Of course I fell in love with her, though in sooth I
had little time for wooing. Having placed her in safety in
the mansion of a friend, I again retreated to the hills ; for a
powerful body of troops were advancing from Corte against us.
But the sparks of freedom were kindled ; and although, for
nearly a year, we were able to do but little, yet our forces
increased each moment all over the island.
"At length came news of the defeat of the Genoese fleet off
Lorera, in Sardinia, and of the tumults in Genoa. Consterna-
tion seized upon the Genoese commanders in Corsica. I again
became the a ssailant, seized several places, and was besieg-
the cattle otf the bosphorus.
309
ing La Rocca, when you astonished us all by your appearance
among ps at Corte, which fell into your hands. Papers were
found disclosing the treachery and treason of Antonetti, who
had betrayed that city to Campaldino; and while you were
laying siege to Bastia, Gaffieri caused Antonetti to be tried.
He was condemned and hung, without pity, from the very
ramparts on which the brave Cecaldi and others had perished
through his treachery.
"After the landing of your noble father, and when the
freedom of our native land Avas achieved, Avhile you returned
to Yenice to seek after your betrothed, I took Yanina from her
retreat, and placed her under the protection of my aunt, the
Countess Rivalora ; and I am happy to say, when Ave
return with your lady-love from this expedition, Avhich I trust
we shall, I have Vanina's promise to unite her destiny to
mine.
 So now, Giacinto, I have made my tale as short as possible ;
for I see it will soon be time for us to be moving ; and, please
the saints, to-morrow will be a busy and a fortunate day with
us.
CHAPTER XLIX.
st. john's day.
St. John's Bay was ushered in by the inhabitants of the
island of Capraja by the ringing of bells, the decoration of
their houses, and various other observances, according to the
usages of saint-days in Catholic communities. The principal
inhabitants of the island repaired to the house of the ex-
podesta, where they were to put on their Avhite mantles,
hoods, &c. Padre Bertoldi, the sole priest then on the island,
was to head the procession, carrying a silver image of our
Saviour, the only relic of value left by the cupidity of the
invaders.
During the night, Paoli and his party had safely crossed the
island, and were Avaiting anxiously the arrival of the forty
chief inhabitants who were permitted to visit the chapel in
the fortress. The astonishment of the caprese, when led by
the ex-podesta into the long warehouse where stood Paoli, in
a suit of chain mail, leaning on a ponderous battle-axe, may
easily be imagined. Their joy was almost too boisterous for
the place and time. Having moderated their transports at the
prospect of so speedy a release from their tyrants, and retalia-
310 THE SUNNY SOUTH \ OB,
tion for their wrongs and sufferings, the old and venerable
priest blessed the whole party, and their intended expedition.
Paoli instructed them how they were to proceed. lhe
mantles and hoods were transferred to himself and thirty-nine
of his men ; the rest were to mingle with the people following
the procession ; and the moment Paoli and his party passed
the gate, they were to rouse the people, distribute arms, and
lead them after Paoli into the fortress. This part of the plan
was left under the direction of Luca Manifesto, who carried a
stout bow,—a weapon in the use of which, when a youth in the
Tyrol, he was celebrated. His skill was wonderful in hitting
any object, however small.
Paoli carried his battle-axe under his mantle, hut was
forced, from his great height, to remain without helmet, and to
wear a simple hood of chain mail. He much wished Padre
Bertoldi to give up heading the procession, fearing that, in the
tumult, the old man would be slain.  I shall die, my son,
in a good and holy cause, if it so pleases the Almighty. Let
me, therefore, do my duty, in which I have not failed for six-
and-twenty years.
All being in readiness, the procession left the mansion of
the Signer Buttaficcio, the priest carrying the silver image.
Then came four banners, and, after them, the rest with immense
wax-tapers in their hands, to be lighted in the chapel. In
Catholic countries, the mantles and hoods completely envelop
the person and face of the wearers, having only two holes in
the front, for the eyes, and an aperture to breathe through.
The long, single ^treet, which then constituted the town
of Capraja, was filled with men, women, and children; the
maidens with garlands in their hands, and the children strew-
ing flowers along the road on which the procession moved.
As they proceeded slowly, our hero cast his glance over the
inner and outer harbour, and perceived two fine zebecs, with
the Genoese flag hoisted, at anchor in the inner harbour, close
under the walls of the fortress. The low round tower, within
which was the machine for raising the ponderous chain, had a
covered way leading to the fortress up an exceedingly per-
pendicular rock, whereon was reared the outward wall of the
ramparts. A glorious sun rode in the heavens; and a fine
breeze curled the waters of the outward harbour, on whose
bosom rode several vessels at anchor. Before him rose the
pile of building forming the noble fortress of Capraja ; and
from the summit of the keep, in honour of the day, waved the
gorgeous banner of the republic. Beneath it drooped the
once free standard of Capraja.
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSBHOHUS.
311
 By the mass, Giacinto, whispered Sampiero, who walked
close beside Paoli, "before another hour is out, I trust to
change the position of those two banners! But stoop your
head, cousin mine. By St. John, you look two heads higher
than any man born on this little island !
 I am sorely cramped as it is, Otho, returned our hero ;
"and, by my faith, long to stretch myself, and have a mouth-
ful of fresh air. The aperture for my mouth unfortunately
comes across my nose, and I am half blinded to boot. But
silence ! See, there are a score of armed men drawn up at the
entrance of the narrow pass, leading to the draw-bridge of the
fortress.
 Yes, cospetto / Andj at their head I see my tall friend,
Achilles Furiani, responded Otho.
Both then remained silent, as they were approaching the
narrow causeway.
As they came abreast of the twenty comrades of Achilles,
the men lowered their long spears and bent their heads to the
cross ; and when the forty men forming the procession entered
the causeway, Achilles made a sign to his comrades, and they
immediately formed athwart the rocky pass.
Paoli observed this movement; but it was nothing more
than he had expected an experienced commander, like Andrea
Campaldino, would order, considering the smallness of the
garrison compared with the people still remaining on the
island.
The procession, two by two, wound up the steep path, and
arrived at the bridge, which was down and the portcullis
raised. Paoli could discern files of men-at-arms drawn up in
military array, and all in full mail, having for a weapon the
short broadsword ready drawn in their hands. Being a wary
commander, Campaldino, though without a shade of suspicion,
had the whole of his garrison under arms. He himself, in a
splendid suit of plate armour, was leaning carelessly on his
sword, as he stood near one of the buttresses of the inner court.
Four men were placed on each side of the gateway, near the
ponderous machine used to raise the unwieldy portcullis.
The good priest, Padre Bertoldi, had passed the bridge, when
one of the men, bearing the banner, tripped against the iron
plates of the drawbridge, and fell at full length. His short
sword, carried under his mantle, flew from his hand in the fall,
and his iron cuirass rang out clearly and distinctly, as it struck
against the rim of the bridge. The warder of the gate saw the
sword, and heard the clangour of steel. Springing back
towards the gate, he shouted his last cry; for the words,
>12 THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
Treachery ! Up bridge !' had scarcely passed his lips, when
the axe of Paoli brained hiin on the spot.
The scene that ensued was like magic. The words of the
ill-starred warder had reached the ears of Campaldino. One
moment he stood astounded. That lost moment was fate ; for
though he cried out in a loud voice,  Drop the portcullis !
it was too late. Paoli had torn the mantle from his back ;
and, with a bound, reached the spot where the four men, some-
what bewildered by the abruptness of the cry of treachery, and
the moment of irresolution that followed, stood with the spokes
of the wheel in their hands. Whirling his fatal axe over his
head, he swept the space clear of the men, who fled within the
gate. Sampiero and the rest of the party, casting aside their
mantles, dashed after their chief, making the archway echo
again to the shout of  Paoli and liberty !''
At the sound of that name Campaldino, who was eagerly
pressing forward with his men (for, till that moment, he
estimated the attempt upon the fortress as a miserable and
futile scheme of the islanders themselves), paused and was
confounded. His irresolution, however, was only for a moment.
With a bitter curse upon his lip, he ordered his chief officer
to block the gate—for they were three times the amount of
the enemy—and, turning away himself, he rushed into the
interior of the castle, vowing inwardly that if he sacrificed
life, he would have vengeance.
• During this brief period the whole male population of the
island, capable of bearing or using arms, had become ac-
quainted with the project of taking the fortress. Luca Mani-
festo supplied most of them with arms ; and the rest, catching
up any kind of implement capable of being turned into a
weapon of defence, followed Luca; and to the utter amaze-
ment of Furiani, a host of natives, shouting wildly and enthu-
siastically the name of Paoli, rushed madly upon him and his
twenty associates.
"Corpo di Bacco ! All the devils are let loose on the island.
Stand firm, my men. We shall soon drive these madmen into
the sea.
But Achilles bad hardly uttered the words before he found
himself standing the whole brunt of the battle. For the twenty
adventurers, never famous for fighting against equal numbers,
fled up the steep path to the fortress, at the sight of nearly
two hundred men, brandishing all sorts of weapons as they
came bounding along. Furiani bitterly cursed the cowardice
of his comrades ; and, standing in the middle of the narrow
causeway, he courageously determined to fall where he stood.
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
313
Gallantly did the Genoese defend the path, till, overpow-
ered by the pressure of the crowd, he fell; and the Caprese,
eager to assist Paoli, trampled over his huge body as it lay
unwounded. Being cased in complete mail, the damage he
sustained was trifling ; and not one of the party stopped to
ascertain whether he was dead or alive.
In the meantime, Paoli and Sampiero battled against the
entire garrison of the fortress, led on by a brave and skilful
officer. The space was confined, till the terrible battle-axe of
the Corsican opened the thick ranks of-the Genoese; and,
followed by his men, fighting gallantly, he forced his way into
the open space beyond the gates, having first cut and destroyed
all the ropes of the draw-bridge and disabled the wheels of the
portcullis. Paoli eagerly sought for Andrea Campaldino. The
officer who commanded the garrison, and who wore his visor
down, being mistaken for Andrea, our hero cut his way through
the astonished Genoese soldiers till he reached him. The first
blow of his battle-axe tore the helmet from the head of the
officer, who fell back stunned and bleeding. Still, the thick
ranks of the men-at-arms blocked up the path to the interior
of the fortress, when a loud cheer, and his own name echoed
from wall and bastion, proclaimed the arrival of Luca Mani-
festo and the islanders, driving before them the comrades of
Achilles.
Burning with anxiety to terminate the contest, knowing how
deep was Campaldino's desire of vengeance, and fearing he
knew not what for his betrothed, Paoli cheered on his men,
and, whirling his axe over his head, every blow brought down
a victim. Thus he cut his way through the men-at-arms, who,
terrified by his fearful strength and resistless strokes, and
seeing their officer sorely wounded, and deserted by their
commander, threw down their arms and surrendered.
As Paoli made his way through the men-at-arms, he beheld,
crossing the court before the inner gate of the building, a man
in a rich suit of armour, bearing a female in his arms, appa-
rently insensible. He was making rapid way towards a low
gateway in the ramparts, which led to the tower on the water's
edge, from which there was a secret passage. Campaldino—for
he it was bearing the fainting Lady Agnes in his arms—in-
tended to escape through that outlet ; for, anchored close to
the tower, were the two Genoese zebecs. But Paoli, who had
recognized Andrea, sprang with a shout of triumph between
him and the path to the gate. With a withering curse Cam-
paldino turned aside, and, active and determined, gained the
rampart wall. Below him, within four feet, was a perpendic-
314
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
ular descent of nearly a hundred feet, terminating in a range
of broken rock. In a loud and clear voice he shouted to Paoli,
who was rushing forward,—
 I triumph, rebel, even in defeat! I perish, but with me
dies thy betrothed ! Vengeance is still mine ! 
As he spoke he raised the maiden in his arms ; but, as he
did so, the twang of a bow was heard close beside the horror-
stricken Paoli. The same instant an arrow, driven with un-
erring aim and deadly force, entered the brain of Campaldino.
With a frantic and desperate energy, Paoli sprang upon the
rampart ; and, even before the lifeless body of the Genoese lay
stretched upon the wall, he caught the senseless form of Agnes,
unhurt, in his arms; while Luca Manifesto, with a smile,
turning to Sampiero, who had arrived in time to witness his
hazardous and marvellous skill with the bow, said— You see,
my lord, presentiment and an internal prompting are not always.,
to be despised. I could not say why I felt the strange han-
kering to hold again my favourite weapon. When, leaving home,
I selected this good bow, I tried several shots, and I found
that the skill which once gave me a proud name in my native
hills had not deserted me. The night before we sailed from
Ficaoli, I dreamed I stood upon the summit of the Brochden,
and, below me, I beheld the Signor Paoli. His hands were
bound ; and coming towards him was a monstrous bear, howl-
ing fearfully. I put an arrow in my bow, and though the
distance in my dream was beyond all the power of a bow, I
shot, and the arrow stood quivering in the brain—not of a bear,
but, a knight in full mail. With this I awoke. I carried my
bow with me ; and, thank God ! this day it has repaid in part
the noble generosity of my lord.
"And now, said Sampiero, looking up with a satisfied smile
at the tall standard on the keep, "the free banner of Capraja
waves over the flag of the proud republic. May it never wave
over a race of freemen again ! 
As the count ceased speaking, and followed Paoli into the
interior of the fortress, one long, wild, and enthusiastic shout
rent the air— Paoli and the islands for ever!  Such was the
cry ; and, before it died away, the two armed zebecs cut their
cables, and, hoisting every sail to the breeze, rapidly receded
from the rocky shores of Capraja.
the battle on the bosphorus.
315
CONCLUSION.
Seventeen years since the events recorded in the foregoing
chapter had passed away; many a St. John's day had been
celebrated in the little island of Capraja; and many of the
inhabitants who had then flourished in it had quitted- the
scene, when, towards the close of a very stormy day at the
latter end of September, there stood, leaning over the rampart
wall of the fortress, three individuals ; one, an old and ex-
tremely venerable-looking signor ; the other two, a fine and
handsome woman, still in her prime, and a tall and graceful
boy.
 Come here, Paulo, said the old signor to the boy ;  your
eyes are younger and better than mine ; though, the Madonna
be praised, I have much to be thankful for, and my sight is not
yet absolutely bad. Look and tell me if that is not a dismasted
carrick away to the westward. There.seems to me to be a
thick haze over the craft, and creeping up towards us.
 You are right, granduncle, said the boy, after a moment's
hesitation.  I can now make her out quite plain. She is a
galley without masts; and I do not see that they are using
their oars. She is rolling heavily in the swell after last
night's gale.
 She has suffered, no doubt, said the old signor,  from the
hurricane of last night; and probably may not be able to use
her sweeps. Our pilots are grown lazy of late. Hoist the
signal, Paulo, and make it known that a vessel is in distress in
the offing.
 I'll do it in a moment, granduncle, replied the boy ;  and
afterwards I will run down to the quay and go out in a boat to
her with old Filippo.
"Nay, Paulo, you had better not, rejoined his mother, who
was no other than Annette, the pretty niece of the reinstated
podesta of Capraja, who, after the storming of the fortress,
had—start not, gentle reader, if you are of the softer sex—ac-
tually married the huge Achilles Furiani. The why and the
how we will explain before the end of the chapter.  It
is getting late; the sea is still heaving, continued the
mother,  and may rise as suddenly as it abated.
 Nay, mother, you need not fear. An hour will take us to
316
THE SUNNY SOUTH ; OR,
the galley and back and, without stopping, the hoy hoisted
the signal and then made away to the quay.
In less than half an hour, three well-manned boats pulled
from the harbour ; and, before the sun had set, the dismasted
and leaky galley was safely moored in the inner harbour of
Ca r aj a.
From the galley's side a noble-looking and richly attired
signor, about forty-three years old, descended into a barge
sent by the governor, who was our old acquaintance, the Signor
Buttaficcio. The stranger then handed down the side a lady,
closely wrapped in mantles, with a hood over her head and
face. She appeared to be suffering either from ill health or
the effects of a long and stormy voyage. A remarkably hand-
some and spirited-looking youth followed, with a lovely girl,
into the boat, which then pulled for the shore ; and, shortly
after, the strangers and their attendants were lodged, by
orders of the podesta, in the best apartments of the fortress.
It was not till the following day that the storm-tossed voy-
agers were able to accept of the hospitable attentions of the
podesta, and then only the signor and his son met at the table
of their venerable host and his niece, whose husband was
absent in Pisa, whither he had taken his daughter and eldest
son to spend a week or so.
The lady and her daughter were yet weak from the effects
of the voyage.
"We are vastly indebted to you, Signor Podesta, and to
your very obliging people, said the noble stranger, as he
warmly returned the kind greetings of the old podesta.  Had
not your boats reached us we should scarcely have outlived
the night. We could only keep the leaks down by all hands
bailing. If we ceased a moment to row, we ran the danger of
sinking. During the whole voyage from Marseilles (and we
have been thirteen days at sea) we experienced tremendous
gales from the land. Last night we lost our remaining mast
and four of our unfortunate crew. My wife and daughter
suffered greatly.
 It was, in truth, a fearful night, signor, returned the
podesta.  The gale howled so awfully over the ramparts, and
through the chambers of this fortress, that I could not rest.
I am happy, signor, to have been able to render you some assist-
ance ; and I can also furnish you with everything necessary for
the repairs of your galley.
 If I mistake not, Signor Governor, remarked the stranger,
after returning thanks, "this romantic island belonged, or,
perhaps, still belongs, to an ancient Corsican family, the
THE BATTLE ON THE BOSPHORUS.
317
Damaris. Pray, is the 'Marchese Bartolomeo Damari still
living ?
"Three days ago, signor, thanks to a merciful Providence ! he
was alive, and, for his years, well.
 I rejoice in my heart to hear such is the case, signor,
returned the stranger, with a pleased smile. "Ihave not heard
any intelligence of him, or those dear to him, for the last
fourteen years. All that bear the name of Damari and Paoli
are dear to the memory of my consort and myself.
At that moment the door of the saloon opened, and the
young daughter of the princely-looking stranger entered and
kissed her father, who looked fondly and proudly upon the
fair and graceful girl, to whose cheeks the roses were fast
returning.
 Well, love, said he, "how fares your mother ?
 So very much better does she feel, dear father, that she
bids me say she will shortly follow me, so anxious is she to
converse with our kind host concerning those she has so often
regretted and so fondly loved.
The old governor looked bewildered upon the fair speaker.
Years past seemed to come before the mind's eye, at once
vivid and indistinct. In the fine features of the stranger's
child he fancied the daughter of the Damaris stood before
him, as she did years ago. Who was this princely stranger,
whose child conjured up such distant remembrances 1 The
governor passed his hands over his eyes, and muttered some-
thing to himself. Then he thought a strange smile sat upon
the stranger's features ; but the next moment the consort of
the latter entered.
 Signor Buttaficcio, said the lady, advancing to prevent
the old governor from rising, and extending her hand, which
the worthy podesta received with profound respect, and looked
into her features with a start of astonishment. The lady
smiled, and continued—"We are old friends, though we have
not met before. I see you look upon me with bewildered sur-
prise; for, no doubt, you perceive the strong likeness that
has always existed between me and Agnes Damari, or rather
the Countess Paoli. We can have no reserve with you, the
dear friend of my beloved Agnes's father. The lady looked
at her husband, and continued— My husband is Ugolino
Carrara, and I was once Paulina Tiepolo.
 Santa Madonna !  exclaimed the podesta ;  can this be
the case 1 Ugolino Carrara was driven, as I have heard, from
his principality by the tyranny and treachery of Venice.
 Bven so, Signor Governor, returned the Carrara, some-
318
THE SUNNY SOUTH J OB,
■what bitterly. "But they have not been able to take from me
these treasures, and his arm enfolded the still beautiful
Paulina— so I forgive them.
 And now, dear Signor Buttaficcio,'' said the princess,  tell
me all about my beloved Agnes and her noble^ husband. The
last we heard of them was from a Corsican signor whom we
met at Milan. But he could only speak of the past. I wish,
however, to hear of the events that followed Paoli's return to
Corsica, and of the occurrences that took place on the restora-
tion of the Marchese Damari to Capraja.
 Willingly, dear lady, returned the governor,  will I
inform you of all that happened to those you love so well,
and who also dearly remember you and yours. Before I
begin, may I ask, does your ladyship's noble father still
live 1 
 Alas, no ! replied the Princess Carrara, with a sigh.
 My beloved father has been dead three years, but he reached
a fair term of life, and his latter days were most happy.
Perhaps it was as well he lived not to see his child, and her
husband, and all his race, doomed by the tyrants of Venice to
become wanderers from their homes.
The Signor Buttaficcio then gave the princess a full account
of all the trials undergone by Agnes subsequently to her
return to Capraja.
"After the taking of the fortress, continued the old podesta,
 Paoli departed with his betrothed and her father for Corsica,
where, very shortly after, they were married. Luca Manifesto,
whose daring nerve and skill had saved the Lady Agnes at a
moment of terrible peril, was presented by the generous Paoli
—as a gift to him and his heirs for ever—with the small but
rich fief of Picaoli. His son, who grew into a fine youth, is
now in Rome for education, with the eldest son of Paoli.
General Paoli still lives, and busies himself with the welfare
of his beloved country. He has concluded a treaty with
France, and permitted a French settlement on the island ; so
that Genoa, even if she attempts to recover the island, will no
longer have the powerful assistance of France. Count Otho
Sampiero married Yanina Cecaldi, and devotes his time and
great wealth in building and strengthening the harbours and
towns on the coast. Juliano Verbano, your ci-devant gon-
dolier, married the daughter of Luca Manifesto, and is steward
over the Paoli property of Mariana. Pulini, our patron's
faithful squire, is still about the person of his chief, but treated
more as the friend than the dependant.
"And that fair dame we saw yester-eve, when we came here,
THE1 BATTLE ON THE BOSPHOBUS.
319
and that fine boy, who are they, Signor Buttaficcio ?
demanded the Princess Carrara.
 My niece, your ladyship, and her son. Singularly enough,
one of the officers, named Achilles Furiani, who came here in
the ^ company of the Genoese governor, Campaldino, insisted,
during the time the Genoese held this island, on offering him-
self as a suitor to one of my nieces—for I have two, your lady-
ship ; but Annette, who was then a lively and somewhat giddy
girl, at times laughed at and tormented her huge lover, who
is a man of very lofty stature, and in truth of a goodly pre-
sence, though at that time somewhat given to wine. But,
Santa Madonna ! he is so changed now that no one would
imagine he was the same individual. Excuse an old man's
garrulity.
 At the storming of the fortress Achilles was deserted by his
men ; he fought bravely, but was overthrown by the crowd of
enraged natives, and trampled under foot as they rushed up
the steep path to the castle. He was, however, only bruised ;
but, as he rose to make his way back into the fortress, he was
again assailed by those left behind, and finally wounded on
the head by a heavy crow-bar. The furious people were
going to carry him, armour and all, and throw him into the
port, when my niece stopped the crowd, and insisted on their
leaving the wounded man under our roof. I came up at the
time, and forbade their committing so cruel and unnecessary
an act. Accordingly Furiani was carried into the house ; and,
to shorten my story, during eight or nine weeks Annette was
his nurse ; for, somehow or other, the girl did not dislike this
strange man. When he got well he refused to quit the island,
for all his countrymen were exchanged—though, by the by, he
swears he isnot a Genoese, but a native of Milan. However, here
hestayed, became an altered man, left off all his old habits, and,
after a year's trial, Annette married him. General Paoli and
his son, two years subsequently, visited our island; the
younger Paoli knew something of Achilles Furiani before. It
appears he had acted humanely towards the signor when
taken prisoner and wounded at Pera ; and, hearing how well
Achilles has conducted himself since his marriage, and know-
ing him to be a brave and also a skilful soldier, he gave him
the command of the garrison of this fortress, and a good
salary out of the tolls collected from the shipping. Achilles
leads a very happy life, is devoted to his wife and family, and
keeps his fortress and garrison in great order. He is now
absent in Pisa, but we expect him shortly. Once every year
our young chief and his beloved consort visit this little island,
which he inherits in right of his wife.
320
THE SUNNY SOUTH, ETC.
 And now, dear lady, I have told my tale, and I trust have
not fatigued you with my prolix narrative.
 Far from it. In truth, my dear sir, I have not lost one
word, for every trifle relating to those dear relatives and
friends is gratifying to my heart. Were we not now, for
political reasons, anxiously desirous to reach Naples, what joy
it would give us to spend a few days with your chief and his
family ; but we have already lost precious time, and much of
our future fate depends on this voyage.
Three days after this, the galley of Carrara was sufficiently
repaired to put to sea. After many liind remembrances, and a
packet of letters for the Countess Paoli, written during their
stay, the noble but persecuted Carrara and his beloved consort,
who clung to him devotedly through the whole of his singular
and romantic fortunes, left the shores of Capraja to embark
again on the stormy path that was destined to be his from
the cradle to the grave.
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LADY EVELYN
MORDAUNT HALL
TIME THE AVENGER
By Samuel Hover.
HE WOULD BE A GENTLE-
MAN
LEGENDS AND STORIES OF
IRELAND
By Author of "The Jilt.
HISTORY OP A FLIRT
LIFE OF A BEAUTY
MARRYING MAN
MY PRETTY COUSIN
BREACH OP PROMISE
BRIDE ELECT
By Percy B. St. John.
THE FLOWER OP THE FOREST
AMY MOSS
By J. Banim.
PEEP 0' DAY
By Charles Lever.
MAURICE TIERNAY
By Blanchard W. Jerrold.
DISGRACE TO THE FAMILY
By Emilie Carlen.
TWELVE MONTHS OF MA-
TRIMONY
By Theodore Hook.
JACK BRAG
By Charles Dickens.
PIC-NIC PAPERS
POE'S TALES OF MYSTERY.
IMAGINATION, ft HUMOUR
LONDON: WARD, LOCK, & TYLER, 153, FLEET STREET;
- AND 107, DORSET STREET, SALISBURY SQUARE.
assess ifiHi. i5«uru Airot
TBB. BAQU1T COUMf, VLB1Y tfBJIP.