THE CLOCK STRIKES FIVE.
The Doge became uneasy. The senator Vitalba began to tremble for his thousand sequins, and the conspirators could not restrain their spiteful laughter, when Contarino gravely declared that he would gladly lose, not ONE thousand sequins, but twenty, if the loss of his wager through Abellino's being captured might but secure the general safety of the Republic.
"Hark!" cried Rosabella, "the clock strikes five!"All listened to the chimes in the tower of St. Mark's Church, and trembled as they counted the strokes. Had not Camilla supported her, Rosabella would have sank upon the ground. The destined hour was past, and still Flodoardo came not!
The venerable Andreas felt a sincere affection for the Florentine;he shuddered as he dwelt upon the probability that Abellino's dagger had prevailed.
Rosabella advanced towards her uncle as if she would have spoken to him; but anxiety fettered her tongue, and tears forced themselves into her eyes. She struggled for a while to conceal her emotions, but the effort was too much for her. She threw herself on a sofa, wrung her hands, and prayed to the God of mercy for help and comfort.
The rest of the company either formed groups of whisperers, or strolled up and down the apartment in evident uneasiness. They would willingly have appeared gay and unconcerned, but they found it impossible to assume even an affectation of gaiety, and thus elapsed another hour, and still Flodoardo came not.
At that moment the evening sun broke through the clouds, and a ray of its setting glory was thrown full upon the countenance of Rosabella. She started from the sofa, extended her arms towards the radiant orb, and exclaimed, while a smile of hope played round her lips, "God is merciful; God will have mercy on me."Contarino.--Was it at five o'clock that Flodoardo engaged to produce Abellino? It is now a full hour beyond his time.
The Senator Vitalba.--Let him only produce him at last, and he may be a month beyond his time if he choose.
Andreas.--Hark! No. Silence! silence! Surely I hear footsteps approaching the saloon.
The words were scarcely spoken when the folding doors were thrown open, and Flodoardo rushed into the room enveloped in his mantle.
His hair streamed on the air in wild disorder; a deep shade was thrown over his face by the drooping plumes of his barrette, from which the rain was flowing. Extreme melancholy was impressed on all his features, and he threw gloomy looks around him as he bowed his head in salutation of the assembly.
Every one crowded round him; every mouth was unclosed to question him; every eye was fixed on his face as if eager to anticipate his answers.
"Holy Virgin!" exclaimed Memmo, "I am afraid that--""Be silent, signor!" interrupted Contarino, sternly; "there is nothing to be afraid of.""Illustrious Venetians!"--it was thus that Flodoardo broke silence, and he spoke with the commanding tone of a hero--"I conclude that his Highness has already made known to you the object of your being thus assembled. I come to put an end to your anxiety; but first, noble Andreas, I must once more receive the assurance that Rosabella of Corfu shall become my bride, provided I deliver into your power the bravo Abellino."Andreas (examining his countenance with extreme anxiety).--Flodoardo, have you succeeded? Is Abellino your prisoner?
Flodoardo.--If Abellino is my prisoner, shall Rosabella be my bride?
Andreas.--Bring me Abellino, alive or dead, and she is yours. Iswear it beyond the power of retracting, and also that her dowry shall be royal!
Flodoardo.--Illustrious Venetians, ye have heard the Doge's oath?
All.--We are your witnesses.
Flodoardo (advancing a few paces with a bold air, and speaking in a firm voice).--Well, then, Abellino is in my power--is in YOURS.
All (in confusion and a kind of uproar).--In ours? Merciful heaven!
Where is he? Abellino!
Andreas.--Is he dead or living?
Flodoardo.--He still lives.
Gonzaga (hastily).--He lives?