seemed to thank him in unabated and confiding love, he felt that if innocence was upon earth, it was in the bosom of Adriana. "But she was still silent; her recovery was slow and feeble; her attendants were summoned, and he saw her borne away, as he would have seen hope and love depart from his exhausted heart for ever. "On that night a letter was sent to him from the palace. It was in the hand-writine of Adriana, and was found at his side on the marble floor, where he appeared to havg fallen on reading it, and to have lain till morning. "The note was brief, and expressing the deepest interest in Montalto's happiness, released him from all engagement, and entreated him to forget the unhappy Adriana.' 6 "Montalto's illness excited the strongest public regret. His splendid endowments, his military successes, the vigorous decision of his character. had made him already the popular hope: he was looked up to by the soldiery as the only officer capable of commanding them in the field, and by Justiniani as the only Venetian who could be matched against the martial genius and political dexterity of Sforza. But of him, as the future husband of Adriana, all his hopes had passed away. A dreariness of soul overhung her; there was a continual cloud upon her mind; the dazzling loveliness, on which no eye gazed but with homage and admiration, had lost its lustre, and, to her father's thought, her smile was more melancholy than even her tears. She had declared her intention of retiring to a convent; and Justiniani, sick of life, and bitterly regretting the hour when he had left the quiet of his Dalmatian valley, for a troubled and evil world, was restrained from abandoning the ducal throne only by the knowledge, that mighty armaments were preparing by the Genoese and a combination of the Island States against his country. CHAPTER XX. Come to my heart; and ere thou tell'st thy tale, Phineas Webb. "MONTALTO languished for some weeks in a state between life and death. His recovery was slow and feeble: in the intervals of suffering, he had adopted a sudden passion for music, and the improvisatore, Vincentio, was the frequent and favourite attendant of his couch. The variety of this youth's acquirements, the vivacity of his anecdote, and that nameless, delight communicated by genius to genius, made him important to Montalto's tired mind; and even in some degree the depositary of its burdens. "He one evening found Montalto in violent agitation, and ventured to ask the cause; the Count threw a letter on the table. There,' said he, is the explanation of all that has made me miserable, that has half made me mad,-or is it but a new device of woman?' "Vincentio read the letter; it was anonymous, and stated, that the writer, a female attendant on the Lady Adriana, had accidentally discovered the cause of breaking off the alliance, in a report, that he had been privately married to a Ferrarese Jewess, in one of his early campaigns; that a female of remarkable beauty had suddenly arrived in Venice, and had an interview with her Lady, which removed all doubt, and that in her reluctance to upbraid him with an act of treachery to herself, and dishonour to her family, she had resolved to be silent, and to bury her disappointment in the sisterhood of the Santa Maria Dolorosa, in Sardinia.' per. "Vincentio smiled as he laid down the paThe Count demanded the reason of his smile. The letter is without a name,' was the answer. "What then, has it not the look of truth? "Why should truth wear the dress of falsehood?' "But do you see no consistency, no natural train of circumstances, no plausibility in the statement?" 666 A vast deal. I think it a dexterous and daring, and, as the seal of all, I see it a successful contrivance; doing as much honour to the subtle head that invented it, as dishonour to the unprincipled heart that could send it forth for the delusion of a noble and unsuspecting love.' "But the probability of the story? "Is it true, my lord?' "Not one syllable.' on his couch. Montalto sank back "Then it argues only the deeper stratagem and readier malignity of its inventors. And now, my lord, I will tell you what I have heard,-what nothing but a sense of devotion to the interests of a master so deserving of the homage, of the duty, of the life of his servant could have wrung from me. The Lady Adriana is "Montalto sprang on his feet at the tone, and shot an involuntary glance of searching fire at the young narrator. He was silent. The Count strode through the room in feverish agitation. Speak, Sir,' said he, if you value my commands, my peace of mind, my honour. Let me hear the worst at once.' 6 "My way of life,' said Vincentio, hesitatingly, brings me sometimes in contact with ranks of society, of which your lordship can have no knowledge. I have had an early fondness for variety of character, and this is to be found only among the populace. I have been often amused by their native humour, sometimes startled by their ferocity, but have from time to time heard among them matters which would be thought high secrets, even in the Doge's council. A few nights since, after an evening spent in exhi-biting my powers, such as they are, in the palace of the patrician Lerici, I made my way, tired to death of lights and music, groupes of plumed and jewelled beauty, and nobles covered with scarlet and stars, to the little obscure Casa di Marte, beside the St. George's Canal. The hour was too early. for the usual conflux of its grotesque visitors, and I was sitting in a dark corner, when one of the usual Buffos of the place came in to prepare for the business of the night. I had often laughed at his exhibitions, and I invited him to take coffee with me. The conversa-: tion turned upon your illness, my Lord, which was then the general topic, and I expressed the common hope of your recovery. To this the Buffo gave his assent, but with an air half mystery half jest, which induced me to inquire further. It suddenly struck |