death
in Candia prompted me to cultivate his acquaintance, and I played with
him the game of Morra, forgave his losses, and paid for his wine.
Whether the remembrance of this kindness excited his compunction, or
whether he wished to atone for his past offences, I know not, but he
thus addressed me in broken accents:

"'Son of Montalto! a just retribution has overtaken me. My necessities
sold me to the savage Barozzo. _He_ hired the dagger which pierced thy
noble father, and the same weapon would have destroyed thee had not
thy better fortune interposed. Listen to the counsel of a dying man.
Beware of Barozzo! He has a long grasp, and will not spare thy young
life. Fly, without delay, or thy destruction is inevitable!'

"Here his voice failed him; a convulsive tremor shook his frame; he
became motionless, and apparently lifeless. But Greeks are cunning to
a proverb, and as it was of vital moment to conceal from the governor
the failure of his murderous design, I struck the assassin's dagger
deep into his heart, and rolled him down the slope of a contiguous
ravine. I now recollected that Barozzo had twenty Greek bloodhounds
carousing in the taverns of Peschiera, and thinking it too probable
that he had commissioned more than one of them to hunt me down, I
crossed the lake, to devise with you the means to detach this demon
from his myrmidons, and force him into single combat. I have bound
myself, by all that is most sacred, to destroy him, or to perish in
the attempt; and should no fair and open avenue to vengeance offer, I
will stab him at Foscari's table, or even rend him limb from limb at
Laura's feet. And now, my Angelo! I conjure you by our bond of
friendship, by every generous feeling in your nature, to lend me that
aid, without which I shall be driven to the desperate and ignoble
alternative of assassination. You know well that it would be in vain
to summon the governor of Candia to a personal encounter. He is a
veteran soldier of established reputation, and he knows that he need
not fight to maintain it; nor will a man who has reached the summit
of opulence and distinction descend from his vantage-ground, and risk
the loss of so much earthly good in mortal combat with the proscribed
and desperate son of Montalto."

To this tale of visionary and real horrors, heightened and dramatised
by the indignant eloquence of Colonna, I listened with intense
interest, and my abhorrence of the monstrous cruelty of Barozzo
s