ir
fellows!"

Donna Florinda murmured a short prayer for the soul of the dead, piously
crossing herself as she concluded. Her example was imitated by her
pupil, and even the lips of Don Camillo moved, while his head was bowed
by the side of his fair companion in seeming reverence.

"'Twas a just end, father?" demanded Donna Florinda.

"It was an unmerited one!" cried the monk, with fervor, "or there is no
faith in man. I have witnessed the death of one who was better fitted to
live, as happily he was better fitted to die, than those who pronounced
his doom. What a fearful state is Venice!"

"And such are they who are masters of thy person, Violetta," said Don
Camillo: "to these midnight murderers will thy happiness be consigned!
Tell us, father, does thy sad tragedy touch in any manner on the
interests of this fair being? for we are encircled here by mysteries
that are as incomprehensible, while they are nearly as fearful as fate
itself."

The monk looked from one to the other, and a more human expression began
to appear in his countenance.

"Thou art right," he said; "such are the men who mean to dispose of the
person of our pupil. Holy St. Mark pardon the prostitution of his
revered name, and shield her with the virtue of his prayers!"

"Father, are we worthy to know more of that thou hast witnessed?"

"The secrets of the confessional are sacred, my son; but this hath been
a disclosure to cover the living, not the dead, with shame."

"I see the hand of those up above in this!" for so most spoke of the
Council of Three. "They have tampered with my right for years to suit
their selfish purposes, and to my shame must I own it, they have driven
me to a submission, in order to obtain justice, that as ill accords with
my feelings as with my character."

"Nay, Camillo, thou art incapable of this injustice to thyself!"

"'Tis a fearful government, dearest, and its fruits are equally
pernicious to the ruler and the subject. It hath, of all other dangers
the greatest, the curse of secresy on its intentions, its acts, and its
responsibilities!"

"Thou sayest true, my son; there is no security against oppression and
wrong in a state but the fear of God or the fear of man. Of the first,
Venice hath none, for too many souls share the odium of her sins; and as
for the last, her deeds are hid from their knowledge."

"We speak boldly, for those who live beneath her laws," observed Donna
Florinda, glancing a look timidl