The Bravo

by James Fenimore Cooper

"Is this all?"

  "Nay, I have other pleasures. There was a spider the past year, that wove his web from yonder beam, and he was a companion, too, that I loved to see; wilt thou look, boy, if there is hope of his coming back?"

  "I see him not," whispered the Bravo.

  "Well, there is always the hope of his return. The flies will enter soon, and then he will be looking for his prey. They may shut me up on a false charge, and keep me weary years from my wife and daughter, but they cannot rob me of all my happiness!"

  The aged captive was mute and thoughtful. A childish impatience glowed in his eye, and he gazed from the rent, the companion of so many solitary summers, to the face of his son, like one who began to distrust his enjoyments.

  "Well, let them take it away," he said, burying his head beneath the covering of his bed: "I will not curse them!"

  "Father!"

  The prisoner made no reply.

  "Father!"

  "Jacopo!"

  In his turn the Bravo was speechless. He did not venture, even, to steal a glance towards the breathless and attentive Gelsomina, though his bosom heaved with longing to examine her guileless features.

  "Dost thou hear me, son?" continued the prisoner, uncovering his head: "dost thou really think they will have the heart to chase the spider from my cell?"

  "They will leave thee this pleasure, father, for it touches neither their power nor their fame. So long as the Senate can keep its foot on the neck of the people, and so long as it can keep the seemliness of a good name, it will not envy thee this."

  "Blessed Maria make me thankful!—I had my fears, child; for it is not pleasant to lose any friend in a cell!"

  Jacopo then proceeded to soothe the mind of the prisoner, and he gradually led his thoughts to other subjects. He laid by the bed-side a few articles of food, that he was allowed to bring with him, and again holding out the hope of eventual liberation, he proposed to take his leave.

  "I will try to believe thee, son," said the old man, who had good reason to distrust assurances so often made. "I will do all I can to believe it. Thou wilt tell thy mother, that I never cease to think of her, and to pray for her; and thou wilt bless thy sister, in the name of her poor imprisoned parent."

  The Bravo bowed in acquiescence, glad of any means to escape speech. At a sign from the old man he again bent his knee, and received the parting benediction. After busying himself in arranging the scanty furniture of the cell, and in trying to open one or two small fissures, with a view to admit more light and air, he quitted the place.

  Neither Gelsomina nor Jacopo spoke, as they returned by the intricate passages through which they had ascended to the attic, until they were again on the Bridge of Sighs. It was seldom that human foot trod this gallery, and the former, with female quickness, selected it as a place suited to their further conference.

  "Dost thou find him changed?" she asked, lingering on the arch.

  "Much."

  "Thou speakest with a frightful meaning!"

  "I have not taught my countenance to lie to thee, Gelsomina."

  "But there is hope.— Thou told'st him there was hope, thyself."

  "Blessed Maria forgive the fraud! I could not rob the little life he has of its only comfort."

  "Carlo!—Carlo!—Why art thou so calm? I have never heard thee speak so calmly of thy father's wrongs and imprisonment."

  "It is because his liberation is near."

  "But this moment he was without hope, and thou speakest now of liberation!"

  "The liberation of death. Even the anger of the Senate will respect the grave."

  "Dost thou think his end near? I had not seen this change."

  "Thou art kind, good Gelsomina, and true to thy friends, and without suspicion of those crimes of which thou art so innocent: but to one who has seen as much evil as I, a jealous thought comes at every new event. The sufferings of my poor father are near their end, for nature is worn out; but were it not, I can foresee that means would be found to bring them to a close."

  "Thou can'st not suspect that any here would do him harm!"

  "I suspect none that belong to thee. Both thy father and thyself, Gelsomina, are placed here by the interposition of the saints, that the fiends should not have too much power on earth."

  "I do not understand thee, Carlo—but thou art often so.—Thy father used a word to-day that I could wish he had not, in speaking to thee."

  The eye of the Bravo threw a quick, uneasy, suspicious glance at his companion, and then averted its look with haste.

  "He called thee Jacopo!" continued the girl.

  "Men often have glimpses of their fate, by the kindness of their patrons."

  "Would'st thou say, Carlo, that thy father suspects the senate will employ the monster he named?"

  "Why not?—they have employed worse men. If report says true, he is not unknown to them."

  "Can this be so!—Thou art bitter against the Republic, because it has done injury to thy family; but thou canst not believe it has ever dealt with the hired stiletto."

  "I said no more than is whispered daily on the canals."

  "I would thy father had not called thee by this terrible name, Carlo!"

  "Thou art too wise to be moved by a word, Gelsomina. But what thinkest thou of my unhappy father?"

  "This visit has not been like the others thou hast made him in my company. I know not the reason, but to me thou hast ever seemed to feel the hope with which thou hast cheered the prisoner; while now, thou seemest to have even a frightful pleasure in despair."

  "Thy fears deceive thee," returned the Bravo, scarce speaking above his breath. "Thy fears deceive thee, and we will say no more. The senate mean to do us justice, at last. They are honorable Signori, of illustrious birth, and renowned names! 'Twould be madness to distrust the patricians! Dost thou not know, girl, that he who is born of gentle blood is above the weaknesses and temptations that beset us of base origin! They are men placed by birth above the weaknesses of mortals, and owing their account to none, they will be sure to do justice. This is reasonable, and who can doubt it!"

  As he ended, the Bravo laughed bitterly.

  "Nay, now thou triflest with me, Carlo; none are above the danger of doing wrong, but those whom the saints and kind Maria favor."

  "This comes of living in a prison, and of saying thy prayers night and morning! No—no—silly girl, there are men in the world born wise, from generation to generation; born honest, virtuous, brave, incorruptible, and fit in all things to shut up and imprison those who are born base and ignoble. Where hast thou passed thy days, foolish Gelsomina, not to have felt this truth in the very air thou breathest? 'Tis clear as the sun's light, and palpable—aye—palpable as these prison walls!"

  The timid girl recoiled from his side, and there was a moment when she meditated flight; for never before, during their numberless and confidential interviews, had she ever heard so bitter a laugh, or seen so wild a gleam in the eye of her companion.

  "I could almost fancy, Carlo, that my father was right in using the name he did," she said, as, recovering herself, she turned a reproachful look on his still excited features.

  "It is the business of parents to name their children;—but enough. I must leave thee, good Gelsomina, and I leave thee with a heavy heart."

  The unsuspecting Gelsomina forgot her alarm. She knew not why, but, though the imaginary Carlo seldom quitted her that she was not sad, she felt a weight heavier than common on her spirits at this declaration.

  "Thou hast thy affairs, and they must not be forgotten. Art fortunate with the gondola of late, Carlo?"

  "Gold and I are nearly strangers. The Republic throws the whole charge of the venerable prisoner on my toil."

  "I have little, as thou knowest, Carlo," said Gelsomina in a half-audible voice; "but it is thine. My father is not rich, as thou can'st feel, or he would not live on the sufferings of others, by holding the keys of the prison."

  "He is better employed than those who set the duty
. Were the choice given me, girl, to wear the horned bonnet, to feast in their halls, to rest in their palaces, to be the gayest bauble in such a pageant as that of yesterday, to plot in their secret councils, and to be the heartless judge to condemn my fellows to this misery—or to be merely the keeper of the keys and turner of the bolts—I should seize on the latter office, as not only the most innocent, but by far the most honorable!"

  "Thou dost not judge as the world judges, Carlo. I had feared thou might'st feel shame at being the husband of a jailor's daughter; nay, I will not hide the secret longer, since thou speakest so calmly, I have wept that it should be so."

  "Then thou hast neither understood the world nor me. Were thy father of the Senate, or of the Council of Three, could the grievous fact be known, thou would'st have cause to sorrow. But, Gelsomina, the canals are getting dusky, and I must leave thee."

  The reluctant girl saw the truth of what he said, and applying a key, she opened the door of the covered bridge. A few turnings and a short descent brought the Bravo and his companion to the level of the quays. Here the former took a hurried leave and quitted the prison.

  Chapter XX

  *

  "But they who blunder thus are raw beginners."

  DON JUAN.

  The hour had come for the revels of the Piazza, and for the movement of the gondolas. Maskers glided along the porticoes as usual; the song and cry were heard anew, and Venice was again absorbed in delusive gaiety.

  When Jacopo issued from the prison on the quay, he mingled with the stream of human beings that was setting towards the squares, protected from observation by the privileged mask. While crossing the lower bridge of the canal of St. Mark, he lingered an instant, to throw a look at the glazed gallery he had just quitted, and then moved forward with the crowd—the image of the artless and confiding Gelsomina uppermost in his thoughts. As he passed slowly along the gloomy arches of the Broglio, his eye sought the person of Don Camillo Monforte. They met at the angle of the little square, and exchanging secret signs, the Bravo moved on unnoticed.

  Hundreds of boats lay at the foot of the Piazzetta. Among these Jacopo sought his own gondola, which he extricated from the floating mass, and urged into the stream. A few sweeps of the oar, and he lay at the side of La Bella Sorrentina. The padrone paced the deck, enjoying the cool of the evening with Italian indolence, while his people, grouped on the forecastle, sang, or rather chanted, a song of those seas. The greetings were blunt and brief, as is usual among men of that class. But the padrone appeared to expect the visit, for he led his guest far from the ears of his crew, to the other extremity of the felucca.

  "Hast thou aught in particular, good Roderigo?" demanded the mariner, who knew the Bravo by a sign, and yet who only knew him by that fictitious name. "Thou seest we have not passed the time idly, though yesterday was a festa."

  "Art thou ready for the gulf?"

  "For the Levant, or the pillars of Hercules, as shall please the Senate. We have got our yard aloft since the sun went behind the mountains, and though we may seem careless of delay, an hour's notice will fit us for the outside of the Lido."

  "Then take the notice."

  "Master Roderigo, you bring your news to an overstocked market. I have already been informed that we shall be wanted to-night."

  The quick movement of suspicion made by the Bravo escaped the observation of the padrone, whose eye was running over the felucca's gear, with a sailor's habitual attention to that part of his vessel, when there was question of its service.

  "Thou art right, Stefano. But there is little harm in repeated caution. Preparation is the first duty in a delicate commission."'

  "Will you look for yourself, Signor Roderigo?" said the mariner, in a lower tone. "La Bella Sorrentina is not the Bucentaur, nor a galley of the Grand Master of Malta; but, for her size, better rooms are not to be had in the palace of the Doge. When they told me there was a lady in the freight, the honor of Calabria was stirred in her behalf."

  "'Tis well. If they have named to thee all the particulars, thou wilt not fail to do thyself credit."

  "I do not say that they have shown me half of them, good Signore," interrupted Stefano. "The secresy of your Venetian shipments is my greatest objection to the trade. It has more than once happened to me, that I have lain weeks in the canals, with my hold as clean as a friar's conscience, when orders have come to weigh, with some such cargo as a messenger, who has got into his berth as we cleared the port, to get out of it on the coast of Dalmatia, or among the Greek islands."

  "In such cases thou hast earned thy money easily."

  "Diamine! Master Roderigo, if I had a friend in Venice to give timely advice, the felucca might be ballasted with articles that would bring a profit on the other shore. Of what concern is it to the Senate, when I do my duty to the nobles faithfully, that I do my duty at the same time to the good woman and her little brown children left at home in Calabria?"

  "There is much reason in what thou sayest, Stefano; but thou knowest the Republic is a hard master. An affair of this nature must be touched with a gentle hand."

  "None know it better than I, for when they sent the trader with all his movables out of the city, I was obliged to throw certain casks into the sea, to make room for his worthless stuffs. The Senate owes me just compensation for that loss, worthy Signor Roderigo!"

  "Which thou would'st be glad to repair to-night?"

  "Santissima Maria! You may be the Doge himself, Signore, for anything I know of your countenance; but I could swear at the altar you ought to be of the Senate for your sagacity! If this lady will not be burdened with many effects, and there is yet time, I might humor the tastes of the Dalmatians with certain of the articles that come from the countries beyond the pillars of Hercules!"

  "Thou art the judge of the probability thyself, since they told thee of the nature of thy errand."

  "San Gennaro of Napoli open my eyes!—They said not a word beyond this little fact, that a youthful lady, in whom the Senate had great interest, would quit the city this night for the eastern coast. If it is at all agreeable to your conscience, Master Roderigo, I should be happy to hear who are to be her companions?"

  "Of that thou shalt hear more in proper season. In the meantime, I would recommend to thee a cautious tongue, for St. Mark makes no idle jokes with those who offend him. I am glad to see thee in this state of preparation, worthy padrone, and wishing thee a happy night, and a prosperous voyage, I commit thee to thy patron. But hold—ere I quit thee, I would know the hour that the land-breeze will serve?"

  "You are exact as a compass in your own matters, Signore, but of little charity to thy friends! With the burning sun of to-day we should have the air of the Alps about the turn of the night."

  "'Tis well. My eye shall be on thee. Once more, addio!"

  "Cospetto! and thou hast said nothing of the cargo?"

  "'Twill not be so weighty in bulk as in value," carelessly answered Jacopo, shoving his gondola from the side of the felucca. The fall of his oar into the water succeeded, and as Stefano stood, meditating the chances of his speculation on his deck, the boat glided away towards the quay with a swift but easy movement.

  Deceit, like the windings of that subtle animal the fox, often crosses its own path. It consequently throws out those by whom it is practised, as well as those who art meant to be its victims. When Jacopo parted from Don Camillo, it was with an understanding that he should adopt all the means that his native sagacity or his experience might suggest, to ascertain in what manner the council intended to dispose of the person of Donna Yioletta. They had separated on the Lido, and as none knew of their interview but him, and none would probably suspect their recent alliance, the Bravo entered on his new duty with some chances of success, that might otherwise have been lost. A change of its agents, in affairs of peculiar delicacy, was one of the ordinary means taken by the Republic to avoid investigation. Jacopo had often been its instrument in negotiating with the mariner, who, as has been so plainly in
timated, had frequently been engaged in carrying into effect its secret, and perhaps justifiable measures of police; but in no instance had it ever been found necessary to interpose a second agent between the commencement and the consummation of its bargains, except in this. He had been ordered to see the padrone, and to keep him in preparation for immediate service; but since the examination of Antonio before the council, his employers had neglected to give him any further instructions. The danger of leaving the bride within reach of the agents of Don Camillo was so obvious, that this unusual caution had been considered necessary. It was under this disadvantage, therefore, that Jacopo entered on the discharge of his new and important duties.

  That cunning, as has just been observed, is apt to overreach itself, has passed into a proverb; and the case of Jacopo and his employers was one in point to prove its truth. The unusual silence of those who ordinarily sought him on similar occasions, had not been lost on the agent; and the sight of the felucca, as he strayed along the quays, gave an accidental direction to his inquiries. The manner in which they were aided by the cupidity of the Calabrian, has just been related.

  Jacopo had no sooner touched the quay and secured his boat, than he hastened again to the Broglio. It was now filled by maskers and the idlers of the Piazzetta. The patricians had withdrawn to the scenes of their own pleasures, or, in furtherance of that system of mysterious sway which it was their policy to maintain, they did not choose to remain exposed to the common eye, during the hours of license which were about to follow.

  It would seem that Jacopo had his instructions, for no sooner did he make sure that Don Camillo had retired, than he threaded the throng with the air of a man whose course was decided. By this time, both the squares were full, and at least half of those who spent the night in those places of amusement, were masked. The step of the Bravo, though so unhesitating, was leisurely, and he found time, in passing up the Piazzetta, to examine the forms, and, when circumstances permitted, the features of all he met. He proceeded, in this manner, to the point of junction between the two squares, when his elbow was touched by a light hand.