nawing
impatience the long-expected letters from his friends in Florence and
Candia, he seemed to find no relief from the feverish rage which fired
his blood, and wasted his fine form, but in the bodily fatigue of
daily and nightly rambles in the mountains.

It was the design of Laura to assume the appearance of sudden and
violent illness on the day before her intended marriage, and to
sustain the deception, by occasional relapses, for months, or even
years, should the governor's patience endure so long. But the
probability was, that a man, advancing towards the autumn of life, and
determined to marry, would rather recede from his engagement and seek
another mate, than run the risk of such indefinite delay. The spirit
and address of Laura Foscari were fully equal to the deep game she had
determined to play. She purposed to assist the deception by staining
her fair face with an artificial and sickly hue; and she found an
effective auxiliary in her mother, who thought the brutal Barozzo
utterly unworthy to win and wear so bright a jewel as her angelic
daughter. These expedients were, however, rendered unnecessary by the
bloody catastrophes which were now at hand.

Three days before the appointed celebration of the marriage, I was
reading, near midnight, in my chamber, when Colonna entered, with
vehement and hasty strides. His large eyes glittered with terrific
energy; his forehead streamed with perspiration; his dress and hair
were in wild disorder, and his hands were dyed with blood. He said not
a word, but paced the apartment for some time with rapidity. His
deportment was that of a man whose rage had risen above his control,
and overwhelmed all power of articulation. I awaited in silent and
wondering sympathy the termination of emotions so tempestuous. At
length, seating himself opposite to me, he struck the table vehemently
with his clenched hand, and after some vain attempts to speak,
exclaimed, in hoarse and hurried tones, which gave an appalling force
to his expressions--"Pisani! all doubt is at an end--I have this night
obtained conclusive evidence of Barozzo's guilt. I have sworn to
avenge my noble father's wrongs in the traitor's blood--and to-morrow
he must face me in fair combat, or feel my dagger in his craven heart.
The alternative will hinge upon your friendly agency--but of that
hereafter.--About three hours since I reached the heights beyond the
lake. Exhausted with a long and toilsome ramble, I threw m