Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1874-04-04
HAND AND HEART.

| woman, enveleped III long Dlacl
| mantle, was walking toward the bridg
| of the Rialto, in Venice. Her step
were weak and uneven. and, at inter
walls. she looked around with hurried
frightened glance. She paused on th'
centre of the bridge, and looked dowI
with shudder on the clear, blue
waters of the Adriatic; then closins
her eyes, and murmuring family
Antonio! my Antonio! Adieul" she
prepared to throw herself over the
parapet just as she was falling, {
man rushed forward, seized her with 6
powerful grasp, and, drawing her back
said
Girl, destroy not thy life which
Providence has given thee I IF you
are unhappy, enter your church, knee
on its hallowed pavement, pour out
your sorrow, and thank your Maker
that you have been preserved from
crime-from rushing uncalied into
His presence" 7lai fF
The girl impatiently tried to shake
off the strong, kind hand that held
her, and said
Let me gol | must die !"
In another moment she tottered and
fell to the ground, where she lay with
out sense or motion. Her preserver
raised her head, and, in order to give
her air, drew back her veil which con-
cealed her features. They were very
lovely, and the man gazed on her with
wonder and admiration as she was
gradually restored.
Be degrees she told him who she
was and where she lived. Her history
might be summed up in few words !:
an avaricious father, poor lover, a
mutual but unhappy love.
Vainly did Maria plead with her
father rich inkeeper of Venice-the
cause of her lover, Antonia Barbarigo,
the handsome gondolier plying beneath
the Bridge of Sighs. At length, this
evening, her father, Gianettini, forgot
himself so far as to strike his daughter
with some violence; and she, with a
far more culpable neglect of her duty,
ran wildly from home, and, as we have
seen, was arrested just on the verge of
committing suicide.
The person who had saved her led
her gently to her home, and, having
given her up to her father, seated him
self in an obscure corner of the hos
telry. Gianettini received his child
with rude reproaches, and, bidding her
retire to her own apartment and betake
herself to her spinning, he cast sus-
picious glance at the person who had
brought her home, whose stout, manly
figure and firm eonntenance, however,
deferred the innkeeper from address
ing him in hostile manner.
AS Maria turned to depart, a young
gondolier appeared at the door, and,
furtively approaching her, said
Dearest, dearestl'
Gianettini rushed forward, shout
ing
HOut of this! Out of my house,
fellow"
The young man did not stir.
Have you fnished?" he said, in a
good -humored tone. Wherefore
these hard words? Have you never
loved, Signor Gianettini? Have you
totally forgotten the feelings of your
youth? Know you not that, since l
was ter years old and Maria FIVE, we
have loved each other fondly? VIII
you not, then, allow us to hallow your
old age with our tears ?"
Il don't want to have a parcel of
beggars for my children, said Gianet-
TIM, roughly.
"Beggars !" replied the young man.
"You surely forget yourself
Not [, indeed, returned the father.
Il refuse my consent. Therefore, get
you gonep'
But, hear me for one moment"
pleaded the gondolier.
IT'S useless. | again repeat that
such as you shall never wed my daught-
er. Your position is too mean"
Certainly you are rich. :" replied the
young man, but what hinders that /
should not become so too? A stout
arm, a brave heart, an honest soul, will,
with the help of Heaven, do much.
"A FOOLS dreaml"
Nay said Antonio; ''it is sober
sense. Prince Lorenzo de Medici was
a merchant; Duke Giacomo Sforza, a
cowherd."
The man in the corner had harken,
ed attentively to this dialogue. He
rose, and touching Barbarigo's should
er, said
We'll spoken, gondolierl Courage
brings success, and struggles conquest.
Maria shall be thy wife"
'Never' cried Gianettini.
Master jew" said the unknown,
turning disdainfully toward him, IF
this youth could lay down six hun
dred pistoles would you object to the
MARRIAGE"
Be that as it may, you must remem-
Der that he is now little better than a
pauper."
"Pshawi" said the unknown "bab-
blers are more tiresOme than thieves.
Before tomorrow you shall handle
that sum-
So saying, he drew from his pocket
a piece of parchment and crayon, and
turning toward table began rapidly
to sketch a mans hand. 1t was repre-
sented open, impatient, with followed
palm, as if expecting a shower of gold
pieces. 1t had, so to speak, a sensu-
Gus, avaricious expression; and one of
the fingers was encircled with mass
i've ring.
'"Tis my hand" cried Gianettini.
And your history said the
artist.
Giving the sketch to Antonia, its
author desired him to carry it to Pietro
Benvols, librarian at the Palace of st.
Mark, and demand in exchange for 1t
six hundred pistoles.
six hundred fools heads !" cried
the innkeeper. II would not give
zecchin for it. )"
Without speaking the artist turned
haughtily away.
The gondolier took the parchment,
and looked with astonishment at its
guise. He then turned dOubtfully
toward Maria but glance from her
soft dark eyes reassured him, and he
set out on his mission.
With folded arms and a moody brow
the artist commenced pacing up and
down the large room in the hostelry,
casting at intervals ascrutiniziDg glance
on the young girl, who, now penitent
for her intended crime, was silently
praying in a corner As for Gianettini,
he seemed unable to shake off the
strange ascendancy gained over him by
his unknown visitor his habitual ef-
frontcry failed him: and, for the first
time In his life, he dared not break
silence.
An hour passed. Then hasty, joy
ous stems were heard and Antonio an