The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1888-06-24

free to do his will he would take the beaut-
full girl to himself; she would flee with him
far away and become his wifel Could he
endure thisl
Can sit down and see my child-the
one thing on earth that claims my undi-
vided love, the light and Joy of my life, the
sunshine and blessing of my home-cau |
see her torn from me, and that too, by a
plebeian who must flee with her a criminals
Aye, criminals BOTH Shall it be9 Could |
endure it, MOI A thousand times MOI"
Such was the feelingS-sucb the conflict
ing emotions that fought bitter fight in the
Dukes bosom as he sought the prisoner.
We shall not wonder, remembering his
birth, the ancient lineage of his ancestry,
and the position he had been called to occu-
Ply in the state, that the feeling of the patri-
cian-of the true neutrality-suspicious. with
the great love of his heart held the ascend
ency
Was it fate that had come to his aid at
this momentous periods At all events this
event, terrible though it was, had cut the
gordian knot. All complications arising
from Count Denaro's persistent suit were at
an end and no more had he to fear or dread
from his wards love for the painter. 1t
was horrible; if he could have prevented it
! he would have done SO with all his heart;
but since it had come to pass, he would &C
cept it as a fortunate release from the very
worst and most complicated trouble that
that ever come upon him.
The keeper of the prison had a written
order from the council that no one, under
any pretext whatever, without permit from
the President, should be allowed to see or
speak with the prisoner. Zinoni. But the
Duke could not be affected by that. His
right could not be denied. When the Coun-
ell of Twenty was in secret session, with the
black curtain before their door, the Duke
might not enter into their presence; but be-
yond that there was not another department
in the city; there was no place, puDlic or
private, which he might not enter at will
Il trust your excellency will pardon me, d"
the keeper said, as they moved on their way
to the place where the prisoner was con-
fined, "for have to confess TO you that
have allowed the man unusual privilege for
one under such charge But, on his ar
rival, there was in existence no legal order
for his arrest or detention; and, further
felt sympathy for him. AT all events you
will find him, not in q prison dungeon, but
in one of my own family apartments.
Maraccim would have explained further,
but the Duke stopped him.
81 am glad you did it, Signor; very glad u
he said, and the ring of his voice told of his
sincerity. II think should have asked the
favor, as a favor to myself with his solemn
promise not to attempt escape
"Oh, he promised that, cxcellency. |
never should have done it without. All!
Here we are You win find the bell-cord in
front corner. You can ring when you
wish to retire."
With this the keeper turned the koy in
the simple lock of the door, and opened the
way, and in a moment more the Duke
stood in Zanoni's presence. He found him
pacing to and fro, with his head bent, and
his arms folded over his bosom. The room
was light aDd airy, with nothing in sight
that could remind one of a prison.
Zanoni looked up quickly on hearing his
door move on its hinges, and whom he be-
held the Duke, his first feeling was of Joy
and gladneSs. 1t was not the cleaning of a
hope of life but it was the sight of friend,
and the thought that he might hear from
his loved one As soon as the keeper had
closed and relocked the door, the prisoner,
| with faint smile of welcome, moved out a
chair, and waited for his visitor to be
seated.
But the Duke would not sit until he bad
taken the painters hand. The prisoner had
not expected such mark of esteem, Yet he
was not inclined to make too much of it,
"Signor Zanoni, l am more deeply
grieved than | can tell in thus finding you
in such a situation" This Antonio said
while holding the painters hand. When he
had taken the preferred seat the other re
piled:
my Lord Duke, knew you would be
grieved; and | may say to you, | also be-
leved, when you should come to know all
the circumstances, that you would deeply
sympathize with me- Have you seen youI
| brother, the Marquis Steffanop
mo. left the palace before he was up
"Then you have heard nothing of the af
fair which brought me hitherW
"Only what the keeper told me. He told
me- l think, all he knew"
Doubtless, but that could have been very
little. wish you would listen to the story
from my lips"
THAT is precisely what have come tc
do. But, Signor, before you begin your
narrative, will you be seateds l shall I'M
derstand you better So"
The prisoner, expressing his gratitude for
the favor thus shown, moved out chair
near to the man who was to listen, and
seated himself.
! my Lord" he said, in opening, evil
you tell me if you have had given you any
account of a meeting previous to this last
affair between the Marquis Steffano and
myself"
You allude to your meeting by the river
when you disarmed himp
YES"
Il had the particulars from-from one
who knew the story we'll" Tho Duke
struggled moment, as though to put back
an emotion that gave him trouble. He had
| hesitated, and even stammered, with the
name of the Princess on his lips; but he was
resolved that he would hesitate no more
| He would be frank and out-spoken, and
/ speak without further reserve than common
| propriety demanded. In his heart he be.
iieved the man before him to be one in whose
honor and good faith he might safely con
| fide.
| "Signor Zanoni,n he added, after a little
hesitation-his manner having plainly
showed that he intended to speak further
81 will be entirely frank with you. 1t was
| the Princess Isabel who told me the story
so you can judge whether 1 heard correctly
or not"
"You heard the simple truth, sire; and il
| she told you all, then you will be in meas.
ure prepared for the story / shall now tell.
beg that you will be patient and listen at
tentively."
The prisoner changed his position slightly
in his seat, and, having given little time
to reflection, he turned his earnest, truthful
| gaze full upon his hearers face, and com.
| menced his narrative.
He told how, as he stood In front of his
studio, on turning his eyes in tho direction
he had proposed TO go, he had seen the Mar.
quis and the Count standing in his way;
he told how he had resolved to avoid them
and how he had changed the direction OF
his walk for that purpose. SO he went on
to the point, near the orange grove, where
| the twain he had hoped to escape came upon
him and stopped him.
| From this he told slowly, carefully and