The herald., 1896-02-16


he ehall come again, am TO we'd Cir
olamo. Thou wilt save me, Nicolo?
"'How shall save thee, child?'
"'Thou wilt kill him, Nicolo'
"Nay, they would Cry out that L
murdered him.
"'What matter to thee, since they
cry already that thy cunning has lett
thee and thy hand is failing?'
"'They say that. child?'
"Oh, surely, Nicolo; the very boys
cry it in the street Has not Glrolamo
declared that thy blades snap ike
frosted glassY
"'He has a lie in his throat then, and
l will cut it OUT exclaimed |, If only
Paolo would awake to his senses that 1
might know the truth
".Pray God, Nicolo, that he does not
wake when / am dead she sobbod;
and with no more words she ran up
to the chamber of the sick man. and
left me to all the bitterness of my con-
fusing thoughts.
"Upon the third day after Christine
brought to me this bitter news, the
crisis of the sick mans illness came.
had sat at his bedside from the set
ting of the sun until dawn, and had
grown very weary with my watching.
About the hour of s o'clock, when
was near to doing in my Chair, what
should happen but that Paolo drew q
deep breath. which called me 10 my
senses instantly; and / had scarce
walked to his bed when he opened his
eyes and cried, in voice that was little
more than whisper, for Christine.
"'Paolo,' ssid |, God be thanked for
this. Take drink to your lips.
"'Is it thou, Nicolo? said he, looking
=. L 1. . e,+t lrAn mn,
ing.
"'No other, Paolo, said I, pressing
the drink upon him.
"sWhers have I been? How did l
coma here?' he asked, trying to raise
himself in the bed.
awe found you in the garden OF
Manin the painter; but think of none
Of these things now
"Hs lay back for moment, with
look of fear on his facs. Then he said:
"'Manin the painter--oh, yes-and
Girolamo Capello Is it thou, Nicolo:'
again told him that it WIS.
"'Ihen listen,' said he. My sword
broke--the sword that was shaped by
thee
"'Paolo,' sad I, what word is this?'
GAS say, cried he. In the morn
ing it was bright as the mirror above
us; but when / drew it in the garden
it was black and burned
"'Did you put oil yours while you
we're thereT ask I'd [.
II laid my belt at the foot of the
lime tree when we sat to food said he.
1t WAS the work of the hag Giovanna
and of Girolamo. Doubt it not. But
thou shalt shape me another, Nicolo,
that / may cut his heart out
Ar en- fr1l 7
of my anger; and presently he spoke
again of Christine.
"Is it we'll with her? he asked. And
l lied to him.
ut is well,' said l. Talk no more
now, Paolo; only sleep
"He obeyed me, being child in
strength, and soon he lay in deep
slumber most pleasant to see. Nor did
l, when little Christine cana running
in an hour later, let her hear of it, or
approach him, for she was wild in her
grief. and not to be held back from
weeping.
"'Nicolo,' said she, tomorrow they
will we'd me; tomorrow, Nicolo, shall
to in Girolamo's arms. Thou wilt lose
me, Nicolo: 1 shall die, dear cousn |
shall never touch Paolo's lips again
"'Thy father has returned, then?'
, said T.
"'He was here at sund own,' said she,
and even now has gone to speak with
, the priests
8 "It is bitter thing, old friend. to
see a child in sorrow. 1t is more bit
, ter if that child has loved you all her
life with great love. l have never
known go sad moment as that; never
one in which I stood so perplexed and
, helpless. And there were but twenty
, hours before me-twenty hours in
which to save little Christine for her
: lover; to deal with Girolamo as justly
he should be dealt with.
! "Iou would think, it may be, that
: with misfortune 30 pressing upon me,
, l had gone out at once to do as best l
might for the child who called me
/ cousin and for my own good name.
But it was only in the hour before sun
down that ] put my cloak about me
and called Michele to bring the gon-
dola to the steps. 70 his question,
Where do we go?' could for the mo-
! ment find no answer; but then, and in
no way curiously-for these thoughts
{ flash upon our minds when we court
: them least--I cried:
+ ITO the house of Manin the painter
v lie uOuueu ulS ueAO. auu, our OWE
Y canal being blocked by boat that lay
, stuck for want of tide, we went out by
+ the piazzi, and so to the open water
t before the Dogana. 1t was now near
| fifteen days since l had ventured from
g my own house, and plainly as Chris
q tine had told me that men cried out
l vi on my work l was struck as by a
. blow when number of urchins play
/ ing before the new church called after
+ me:
!. "'There goes Nicolo that makes his
swords of wood"
add you hear that, Michele?' said
/. Il am Nicolo that makes swords OF
y woodr
i "'I have heard it every day these ten
It days or more, excellency,' said he
Q oh, we are merry souls in Venice
d Listen to that, ROW.
o "Ha pointed to a gondola in which
II sat three young men known to me-
l. one the son of a senator, aud all per.
d SONS of much account. But these fell
q lows, so soon as their boat was near to
US, began to rail as the boy had done
t. "'Good day, Signor Nicolo, tina,
E makes the rotting swords! Master
d Nicolo, [ will send you a load OF
y branches, nay, on my honor, I have
- them in my garden. Excellent Nicolo