ther return nor proceed!" she exclaimed, frightened she knew
not why.

"I see it all," answered Jacopo, "we are prisoners on the fatal bridge."

As he spoke, the Bravo calmly removed his mask, and showed the
countenance of a man whose resolution was at its height.

"Santa Madre di Dio! what can it mean?"

"That we have passed here once too often, love. The council is tender of
these visits."

The bolts of both doors grated, and the hinges creaked at the same
instant. An officer of the inquisition entered armed, and bearing
manacles. Gelsomina shrieked, but Jacopo moved not limb or muscle, while
he was fettered and chained.

"I too!" cried his frantic companion. "I am the most guilty--bind
me--cast me into a cell, but let poor Carlo go."

"Carlo!" echoed an officer, laughing unfeelingly.

"Is it such a crime to seek a father in his prison! They knew of his
visits--they permitted them--he has only mistaken the hour."

"Girl, dost thou know for whom thou pleadest?"

"For the kindest heart--the most faithful son in Venice! Oh! if ye had
seen him weep as I have done, over the sufferings of the old captive--if
ye had seen his very form shivering in agony, ye would have pity on
him!"

"Listen," returned the officer, raising a finger for attention.

The trumpeter sounded on the bridge of St. Mark, immediately beneath
them, and proclamation was again made, offering gold for the arrest of
the Bravo.

"'Tis the officer of the Republic, bidding for the head of one who
carries a common stiletto," cried the half-breathless Gelsomina, who
little heeded the ceremony at that instant; "he merits his fate."

"Then why resist it?"

"Ye speak without meaning!"

"Doting girl, this is Jacopo Frontoni!"

Gelsomina would have disbelieved her ears, but for the anguished
expression of Jacopo's eye. The horrible truth burst upon her mind, and
she fell lifeless. At that moment the Bravo was hurried from the bridge.

CHAPTER XXVII.

"Let us lift up the curtain, and observe
What passes in that chamber."
ROGERS.

There were many rumors uttered in the fearful and secret manner which
characterized the manner of the town, in the streets of Venice that day.
Hundreds passed near the granite columns, as if they expected to see the
Bravo occupying his accustomed stand, in audacious defiance of the
proclamation, for so long and so mysteriously had he been permitted to
appear in public, th