re deposited, they would escape
the detection of Montoni.

CHAPTER VIII

My tongue hath but a heavier tale to say.
I play the torturer, by small and small,
To lengthen out the worst that must be spoken.
RICHARD II

We now return, for a moment, to Venice, where Count Morano was suffering
under an accumulation of misfortunes. Soon after his arrival in that
city, he had been arrested by order of the Senate, and, without knowing
of what he was suspected, was conveyed to a place of confinement,
whither the most strenuous enquiries of his friends had been unable to
trace him. Who the enemy was, that had occasioned him this calamity, he
had not been able to guess, unless, indeed, it was Montoni, on whom his
suspicions rested, and not only with much apparent probability, but with
justice.

In the affair of the poisoned cup, Montoni had suspected Morano; but,
being unable to obtain the degree of proof, which was necessary to
convict him of a guilty intention, he had recourse to means of other
revenge, than he could hope to obtain by prosecution. He employed
a person, in whom he believed he might confide, to drop a letter of
accusation into the DENUNZIE SECRETE, or lions' mouths, which are
fixed in a gallery of the Doge's palace, as receptacles for anonymous
information, concerning persons, who may be disaffected towards the
state. As, on these occasions, the accuser is not confronted with the
accused, a man may falsely impeach his enemy, and accomplish an unjust
revenge, without fear of punishment, or detection. That Montoni should
have recourse to these diabolical means of ruining a person, whom he
suspected of having attempted his life, is not in the least surprising.
In the letter, which he had employed as the instrument of his revenge,
he accused Morano of designs against the state, which he attempted to
prove, with all the plausible simplicity of which he was master; and
the Senate, with whom a suspicion was, at that time, almost equal to
a proof, arrested the Count, in consequence of this accusation; and,
without even hinting to him his crime, threw him into one of those
secret prisons, which were the terror of the Venetians, and in which
persons often languished, and sometimes died, without being discovered
by their friends.

Morano had incurred the personal resentment of many members of the
state; his habits of life had rendered him obnoxious to some; and his
ambition, and the bold rivalship, which