Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1882-01-17
The CrayOn Sketch.

81 wonder If he's single ?"
The CrayOn Sketch.
One evening, in the year 1920, fe-
male, completely enveloped in long,
black mantle, was walking toward the
bridge of Riaito in Venice. Her step
was weak and uneven, and, at inter
walls, she looked around with hurried,
frightened glance. Fr.r
She paused at the center of the bridge,
and looked down with a shudder on the
clear, blue waters of the Adriatic then,
closing her eyes and murmuring family,
"AntOniO, my Antonio, adieu J" she
prepared to throw herself over the par
apet.
Just as she was falling a man rushed
forward, seized her with a powerful
grasp, and, drawing her back, said =
"Girl, destroy not the life which God
has given you. If you are unhappy
enter your church, kneel on it's hallowed
pavement, pour out your sorrow, and
thank your Maker that you have been
his presence"
The girl impatiently tried to shake off
the strong, kind hand that held her,
and said
"Let me go! 1 must die in peace ~
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 the veil which con-
cealed her features. They were lovely.
and the man gazed on her with wonder
and admiration as she was gradually re-
stored.
By degrees she told him who she was
and where she lived. Her history
might be summed up in few words :
An avaricious father, a poor lover, a
mutual but unhappy love.
Vainly had Maria pleaded with her
father, rich. inn~keeper of Venice,
the cause of her lover, Antonio Barba-
rigo, the handsomest gondolier plying
beneath the Bridge of Signs. At length,
this evening, her father, Giannettini,
forgot himself so far as to strike his
daughter with some violence; and she,
with far more culpable neglect of her
duty, fled wildly from home, and, as we
have seen, was arrested on the verge of
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 hostile
~
rude reproaches; and, bidding her to
retire to her own apartment and betake
herself to her spinning, he cast suspi-
cious glance at the person who had
brought her home, whose stout, manly
figure and firm countenance, however,
deferred the inn keeper from addressing
him in hostile manner.
AS Maria turned to depart a young
gondolier appeared at the door, and fur
lively approaching her, said Dearest!
dearest!"
Giannettini rushed forward shouting ::
tout of this Out of my house, beg.
CARL"
The young man did not stir.
"Have you finished ?" he said, IN a
good-humored tone. Wherefore these
hard words? Have you never loved,
Signor Giannetti! Have you totally
forgotten the feelings of your youth
Know you not that since I was 10 years
old, and Maria 5, we have loved each
other fondly? Will you not then allow
us to hallow your old age with our
grateful blessings; or must we water
your path with our tears?
II don't want to have parcel of beg.
gars for my grandchildren" said Clan
netti, roughly.
Certainly, you are rich," replied the
young man "but what hinders that 1
should not become so too? A stout
arm, brave heart, an honest soul, will,
with the help of heaven, do much"
"a FOOLS dream!"
"Nay," said Antonio, sit is sober
sense. Prince Lorenzo de Medici was a
merchant Duke Giacomo Sforza cow
herd"
The man in the corner had hearkened
attentively to this dialogue. He rose,
and touching Barbarigo's shoulder,
said: well spoken, gondolier! Cour-
age brings success, and struggling con-
quest. Maria shall be thy wife!"
"Never!" cried Giannettini.
"Well," said the unknown, turning
disdainfully toward MIN, "if this youth
could lay down 900 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."
''Pshawp' said the unknown, "bab
blers are more tiresome than thieves.
Before to morrow you shall handle that
sum-"
So saying he drew from his pocket a
piece of parchment and a orayOn, and,
turning toward a table, began rapidly to
sketch a mans hand. It was repre-
scented open, impatient, with followed
palm, as if expecting a shower of gold
pieces. It had, so to speak, sensual,
avaricious expression, and one of the
fingers was encircled with a massive
ring.
''Tis my hand !" cried Giapnetti.
sand your history" said the artist.
Giving the sketch to Antonio, the
author desired him to carry it to Pietro
Benvolo, librarian at the palace of st.
- 4 Co..
600 pistoles.
six hundred fools heads !" cried the
inn~keeper. 81 would not give zec-
Without speaking the artist turned
haughtily away.
The gondolier took the parchment
and looked with establishment at its
guise. He then turned doubtfully to-
ward Maria, but glance from her soft |
dark eyes treasured 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 hosiery,
casting at intervals ascrutinizing glance
on the young girl, who, now penitent
for her intended crime, was silently
praying in corner. AS for Giannetti,
he seemed unable to shake off the
strange ascendancy gained over him by
his unknown visitor, his habitual eff
frontery failed him, and for the first
time in his life, he dared to break the
silence.
An hour passed. Then hasty, Joyous
steps were heard, and Antonio appeared,
bearing in hand bag and letter: The
bag contained 500 pistoles, and the letter
was addressed to the artist, and prayed
him to honor the librarian with visit.