he gondoliers, and having been told that I knew more
than they did, they loaded me with questions which I answered. They did
not know who I was, and did not like to ask me; whilst I thought it
better to preserve a modest silence.

The patient did not move; his breathing alone shewed that he was still
alive; fomentations were constantly applied, and the priest who had been
sent for, and was of very little use under such circumstances, seemed to
be there only to see him die. All visitors were sent away by my advice,
and the two noblemen and myself were the only persons in the sick man's
room. At noon we partook silently of some dinner which was served in the
sick room.

In the evening one of the two friends told me that if I had any business
to attend to I could go, because they would both pass the night on a
mattress near the patient.

"And I, sir," I said, "will remain near his bed in this arm-chair, for if
I went away the patient would die, and he will live as long as I am near
him."

This sententious answer struck them with astonishment, as I expected it
would, and they looked at each other in great surprise.

We had supper, and in the little conversation we had I gathered the
information that the senator, their friend, was M. de Bragadin, the only
brother of the procurator of that name. He was celebrated in Venice not
only for his eloquence and his great talents as a statesman, but also for
the gallantries of his youth. He had been very extravagant with women,
and more than one of them had committed many follies for him. He had
gambled and lost a great deal, and his brother was his most bitter enemy,
because he was infatuated with the idea that he had tried to poison him.
He had accused him of that crime before the Council of Ten, which, after
an investigation of eight months, had brought in a verdict of not guilty:
but that just sentence, although given unanimously by that high tribunal,
had not had the effect of destroying his brother's prejudices against
him.

M. de Bragadin, who was perfectly innocent of such a crime and oppressed
by an unjust brother who deprived him of half of his income, spent his
days like an amiable philosopher, surrounded by his friends, amongst whom
were the two noblemen who were then watching him; one belonged to the
Dandolo family, the other was a Barbaro, and both were excellent men. M.
de Bragadin was handsome, learned, cheerful, and most kindly disposed; he
was then about fifty