The night was far advanced when he epened his eyen
on a sinall room, while, by hia bedside, sat a personage
attired in the garb of a leech. At firat the recallection
of the lover was confused, but, as fact after fact recurred
to his memory, he hegan to be eensible of his true situa-
tion and of the failure of his plan to rescue Beatrice,
‘Lhe thought soon flashed upon him that it might not
yet he too Inte for the eppointed mecting. Raising
himself up in bed he turned to the lecch and asked,
“Ig there a gondola at your door!—I must be dressed and away. T have an appointment at midnight, and life or death depends on its {ulfilment”—he would have pro- ceeded, but here his weakness overcame him and he eank back fainting in the bed.
«Poor youth,” said the leech, “he is terribly wounded, and has something on hia mind. I fear this agitation will throw him into a fever. But now we must revive him,” and he proceeded to apply remedies to recall the consciousness of his patient.
The lover recovered fram his swoon, but aaily to pass inte a delirious fever, which continued to rage for several days,
It was a balmy summer morning whch the lover next woke to recuilection. ‘The fresh breeze—if in a crowded city the breeze ever can be fresh—was blowing through the open casomont, filling the room with a perceptible fragrance, and bringing to the sick man’s mind dreams of flowers and folds far uway. He rose partly on one arm and looked around. At first he could not compre hend his situation, but gradually the recollection of the past broke upon him, until he was able to call up, one by one, the events which had happened on that feta) night, when he fell beneath the bravo's dagger. The last he remembered was his awakening from a swoon in this very room, and gazing on the face of a person who had seemed to be a leech, Afer that all was blank.
He gazed around the room, hoping to eee some person who miyht satisfy his curiosity respecting the length of time whiclr had elapsed during his sickness, but he gazed in vein. The apartment appeared to contain no living deing beside himself, Exhausted, at length, by wesk- ness, he sank back on the bed, and was lost in thought as to the fate of Beatrice. Had the week of delay which her uncle had granted expired, and was she now the bride of ler bated cousin, or had she found means to escape thet dreadtul fate? What must have been her thoughts on that fatal night on which he received hie wound, when she found that ha did not join her, a8 arranged, at the rendezvous? Had she puraued her plan of escape alone atul unaided ond, if 80, what dangers had not environed her? Perhaps sho had re- turned to her uncle—ber attempt to fly been discovered —and the anion hurried on by her stern relative in the recesses of his paltee. If so—what misery would be ers—what remorae would attend her Jovor for having
THE LADY’S
been the cause, although innocently, of such a fate! These thoughts rushed through the tover’s mind until his brain began to give way beneath them, and he was fain to shut bis eyes and endeavor to divert his mind. Bot the effort waa in vain, He could not divest himself of & thousand fears respecting Beatrice, which haunted him like spectres, Had this uncertainty continued much longer the yet weak brain of the pick man must have given way beneath the excitement; hut luckily, at this moment, the door opened and ® person advanced into the room. The lover hastily turned his head, he thought he recognized the intruder, and in the moment all doubt was removed by the stranger rushing forward with a cry of joy.
“Glory to St, Mark !” said the gondotier, for the in« trader was no other than the faithful servant of Adanta, « glory to all the paints in the calender, you are in your senses once more! I told the wretches that you would recover—i knew it, I felt it Ah! my good master, you will yet live to rejoin the sweet Lady Beatrice,” and overcome by his joy, the warra-hearted follower shed
[teers His master was cqually affected,
“But tell me,” said Adanta, “you spoke of Beatrice, Have you heard af her?—is she safe?—hns she been forcod into that hateful marriage 2”
“Ah! I forget—the leech told me not to ngitate you; but how can J, when my joy at your recovery is #0 great.”
“ But Beatrice ?” interposed the fover.
“Sho is well—she hus excaped—she is out of the tertitories of Venice, she bas sought the refuge of # con- vent—this is all I ean tell yon now, and the leech would never forgive me, if he thought I had exchanged more than a single word with you. ‘There, compose yourself. my dear master. Everything ie in the right train; and to-morrow, when you are stronger, you shult know all.”
Adanta would fain have insisted on hearing at once the whole story in detail from the lips of his faithful servant, but his head had alrendy began to swim around, and he felt that he was over-tusking hin yet enfecbled powers, He was forced, therefure, to stifle his curiosity for the present and rest contented with the assurance thot Beatrice was mfe and free from her aucle’a tyranny. With this consoling hope he lay hnuck on his pillow, and, while his faithful servant watched over him, gradually stink into slamber.
The next day the leech visited him on aweking and pronounced hin wonderfully strengthened. As soon as the leech had retired the gondolier began, according to promise, his story. With all that happened up to the commencement of the nightmarch of the fugitives the reader in already acquainted; s0 we shall not repeat the gondolier’s narration up to that time, but give his story: of the adventures that afterward befell them,
© Woe pursued aur way until we hail loft the territories
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