by G. A. Henty
“Moreover, a training in arms, as you say, gives readiness and quickness, it enables the mind to remain calm and steadfast amidst dangers of all sorts, and, methinks, it adds not a little to a man’s dignity and self respect to know that he is equal, man to man, to any with whom he may come in contact. Here in Venice we are all soldiers and sailors, and your son will make no worse merchant, but rather the better, for being able to wield sword and dagger.
“Even now,” he said with a smile, “he has proved the advantage of his training; for, though I say it not boastfully, Nicholas Polani has it in his power to be of some use to his friends, and foremost among them he will henceforward count your brave son, and, if you will permit him, yourself.
“But you will, I trust, excuse my paying you but a short visit this morning, for I am on my way to lay a complaint before the council. I have already been round to several of my friends, and Phillipo Giustiniani and some six others, nearest related to me, will go with me, being all aggrieved at this outrage to a family nearly connected. I crave you to permit me to take your son with me, in order that he may be at hand, if called upon, to say what he knows of the affair.”
“Assuredly it is his duty to go with you if you desire it; although I own I am not sorry that he could see, as he tells me, no badge or cognizance which would enable him to say aught which can lead to the identification of those who would have abducted your daughter. It is but too well known a fact that it is dangerous to make enemies in Venice, for even the most powerful protection does not avail against the stab of a dagger.”
“That is true enough,” the merchant said. “The frequency of assassinations is a disgrace to our city; nor will it ever be put down until some men of high rank are executed, and the seignory show that they are as jealous of the lives of private citizens, as they are of the honour and well being of the republic.”
Francis gladly threw aside his books when he was told that Signor Polani desired him to accompany him, and was soon seated by the side of the merchant in his gondola.
“How old are you, my friend?” the merchant asked him, as the boat threaded the mazes of the canals.
“I am just sixteen, signor.”
“No more!” the merchant said in surprise. “I had taken you for well-nigh two years older. I have but just come from the Palazzo Giustiniani, and my young kinsman, Matteo, tells me that in the School of Arms there are none of our young nobles who are your match with rapier or battleaxe.”
“I fear, sir,” Francis said modestly, “that I have given up more time to the study of arms than befits the son of a sober trader.”
“Not at all,” the Venetian replied. “We traders have to defend our rights and our liberties, our goods and our ships, just as much as the nobles have to defend their privileges and their castles. Here in Venice there are no such distinctions of rank as there are elsewhere. Certain families, distinguished among the rest by their long standing, wealth, influence, or the services they have rendered to the state, are of senatorial rank, and constitute our nobility; but there are no titles among us. We are all citizens of the republic, with our rights and privileges, which cannot be infringed even by the most powerful; and the poorest citizen has an equal right to make himself as proficient in the arms, which he may be called upon to wield in defence of the state, as the Doge himself. In your country also, I believe, all men are obliged to learn the use of arms, to practise shooting at the butts, and to make themselves efficient, if called upon to take part in the wars of the country. And I have heard that at the jousts, the champions of the city of London have ere now held their own against those of the court.”
“They have done so,” Francis said; “and yet, I know not why, it is considered unseemly for the sons of well-to-do citizens to be too fond of military exercises.”
“The idea is a foolish one,” the Venetian said hotly. “I myself have, a score of times, defended my ships against corsairs and pirates, Genoese, and other enemies. I have fought against the Greeks, and been forced to busy myself in more than one serious fray in the streets of Constantinople, Alexandria, and other ports, and have served in the galleys of the state. All men who live by trade must be in favour of peace; but they must also be prepared to defend their goods, and the better able they are to do it, the more the honour to them.
“But here we are at the Piazzetta.”
A group of nobles were standing near the landing place, and Signor Polani at once went up to them, and introduced Francis to them as the gentleman who had done his daughter and their kinswoman such good service. Francis was warmly thanked and congratulated by them all.
“Will you wait near the entrance?” Signor Polani said. “I see that my young cousin, Matteo, has accompanied his father, and you will, no doubt, find enough to say to each other while we are with the council.”
The gentlemen entered the palace, and Matteo, who had remained respectfully at a short distance from the seniors, at once joined his friend.
“Well, Francis, I congratulate you heartily, though I feel quite jealous of you. It was splendid to think of your dashing up in your gondola, and carrying off my pretty cousins from the clutches of that villain, Ruggiero Mocenigo, just as he was about to lay his hands on them.”
“Are you sure it was Ruggiero, Matteo?”
“Oh, there can’t be any doubt about it. You know, he had asked for Maria’s hand, and when Polani refused him, had gone off muttering threats. You know what his character is. He is capable of any evil action; besides, they say that he has dissipated his patrimony, in gaming and other extravagances at Constantinople, and is deep in the hands of the Jews. If he could have succeeded in carrying off Maria it would more than have mended his fortunes, for she and her sister are acknowledged to be the richest heiresses in Venice. Oh, there is not a shadow of doubt that it’s he.
“You won’t hear me saying anything against your love of prowling about in that gondola of yours, since it has brought you such a piece of good fortune—for it is a piece of good fortune, Francis, to have rendered such a service to Polani, to say nothing of all the rest of us who are connected with his family. I can tell you that there are scores of young men of good birth in Venice, who would give their right hand to have done what you did.”
“I should have considered myself fortunate to have been of service to any girls threatened by violence, though they had only been fishermen’s daughters,” Francis said; “but I am specially pleased because they are relatives of yours, Matteo.”
“To say nothing to their being two of the prettiest girls in Venice,” Matteo added slyly.
“That counts for something too, no doubt,” Francis said laughing, “though I didn’t think of it.
“I wonder,” he went on gravely, “whether that was Ruggiero whom I struck down, and whether he came up again to the surface. He has very powerful connections, you know, Matteo; and if I have gained friends, I shall also have gained enemies by the night’s work.”
“That is so,” Matteo agreed. “For your sake, I own that I hope that Ruggiero is at present at the bottom of the canal. He was certainly no credit to his friends; and although they would of course have stood by him, I do not think they will feel, at heart, in any way displeased to know that he will trouble them no longer. But if his men got him out again, I should say you had best be careful, for Ruggiero is about the last man in Venice I should care to have as an enemy. However, we won’t look at the unpleasant side of the matter, and will hope that his career has been brought to a close.”
“I don’t know which way to hope,” Francis said gravely. “He will certainly be a dangerous enemy if he is alive; and yet the thought of having killed a man troubles me much.”
“It would not trouble me at all if I were in your place,” Matteo said. “If you had not killed him, you may be very sure that he would have killed you, and that the deed would have caused him no compunction whatever. It was a fair fight, just as if it had been a hostile galley in mid-sea; and I don’t see why the thought of ha
ving rid Venice of one of her worst citizens need trouble you in any way.”
“You see I have been brought up with rather different ideas to yours, Matteo. My father, as a trader, is adverse to fighting of all kinds—save, of course, in defence of one’s country; and although he has not blamed me in any way for the part I took, I can see that he is much disquieted, and indeed speaks of sending me back to England at once.”
“Oh, I hope not!” Matteo said earnestly. “Hitherto you and I have been great friends, Francis, but we shall be more in future. All Polani’s friends will regard you as one of themselves; and I was even thinking, on my way here, that perhaps you and I might enter the service of the state together, and get appointed to a war galley in a few years.”
“My father’s hair would stand up at the thought, Matteo; though, for myself, I should like nothing so well. However, that could never have been. Still I am sorry, indeed, at the thought of leaving Venice. I have been very happy here, and I have made friends, and there is always something to do or talk about; and the life in London would be so dull in comparison. But here comes one of the ushers from the palace.”
The official came up to them, and asked if either of them was Messer Francisco Hammond, and, finding that he had come to the right person, requested Francis to follow him.
CHAPTER 4
Carried Off
It was with a feeling of considerable discomfort, and some awe, that Francis Hammond followed his conductor to the chamber of the Council. It was a large and stately apartment. The decorations were magnificent, and large pictures, representing events in the wars of Venice, hung round the walls. The ceiling was also superbly painted. The cornices were heavily gilded. Curtains of worked tapestry hung by the windows, and fell behind him as he entered the door.
At a table of horseshoe shape eleven councillors, clad in the long scarlet robes, trimmed with ermine, which were the distinguishing dress of Venetian senators, were seated—the doge himself acting as president. On their heads they wore black velvet caps, flat at the top, and in shape somewhat resembling the flat Scotch bonnet. Signor Polani and his companions were seated in chairs, facing the table.
When Francis entered the gondolier was giving evidence as to the attack upon his boat. Several questions were asked him when he had finished, and he was then told to retire. The usher then brought Francis forward.
“This is Messer Francisco Hammond,” he said.
“Tell your story your own way,” the doge said.
Francis related the story of the attack on the gondola, and the escape of the ladies in his boat.
“How came you, a foreigner and a youth, to interfere in a fray of this kind?” one of the councillors asked.
“I did not stop to think of my being a stranger, or a youth,” Francis replied quietly. “I heard the screams of women in distress, and felt naturally bound to render them what aid I could.”
“Did you know who the ladies were?”
“I knew them only by sight. My friend Matteo Giustiniani had pointed them out to me, on one occasion, as being the daughters of Signor Polani, and connections of his. When their gondola had passed mine, a few minutes previously, I recognized their faces by the light of the torches in their boat.”
“Were the torches burning brightly?” another of the council asked; “because it may be that this attack was not intended against them, but against some others.”
“The light was bright enough for me to recognize their faces at a glance,” Francis said, “and also the yellow and white sashes of their gondoliers.”
“Did you see any badge or cognizance, either on the gondola or on the persons of the assailants?”
“I did not,” Francis said. “They certainly wore none. One of the torches in the Polani gondola had been extinguished in the fray, but the other was still burning, and, had the gondoliers worn coloured sashes or other distinguishing marks, I should have noticed them.”
“Should you recognize, were you to see them again, any of the assailants?”
“I should not,” Francis said. “They were all masked.”
“You say you struck down the one who appeared to be their leader with an oar, as he was about to leap into your boat. How was it the oar was in your hand instead of that of your gondolier?”
“I was myself rowing,” Francis said. “In London, rowing is an amusement of which boys of all classes are fond, and since I have been out here with my father I have learned to row a gondola; and sometimes, when I am out of an evening, I take an oar as well as my gondolier, enjoying the exercise and the speed at which the boat goes along. I was not rowing when the signora’s boat passed me, but upon hearing the screams, I stood up and took the second oar, to arrive as quickly as possible at the spot. That was how it was that I had it in my hand, when the man was about to leap into the boat.”
“Then there is nothing at all, so far as you know, to direct your suspicion against anyone as the author of this attack?”
“There was nothing,” Francis said, “either in the gondola itself, or in the attire or persons of those concerned in the fray, which could give me the slightest clue as to their identity.”
“At any rate, young gentleman,” the doge said, “you appear to have behaved with a promptness, presence of mind, and courage—for it needs courage to interfere in a fray of this sort—beyond your years; and, in the name of the republic, I thank you for having prevented the commission of a grievous crime. You will please to remain here for the present. It may be that, when the person accused of this crime appears before us, you may be able to recognize his figure.”
It was with mixed feelings that Francis heard, a minute or two later, the usher announce that Signor Ruggiero Mocenigo was without, awaiting the pleasure of their excellencies.
“Let him enter,” the doge said.
The curtains fell back, and Ruggiero Mocenigo entered with a haughty air. He bowed to the council, and stood as if expecting to be questioned.
“You are charged, Ruggiero Mocenigo,” the doge said, “with being concerned in an attempt to carry off the daughters of Signor Polani, and of taking part in the killing of three servitors of that gentleman.”
“On what grounds am I accused?” Ruggiero said haughtily.
“On the ground that you are a rejected suitor for the elder lady’s hand, and that you had uttered threats against her father, who, so far as he knows, has no other enemies.”
“This seems somewhat scanty ground for an accusation of such gravity,” Ruggiero said sneeringly. “If every suitor who grumbles, when his offer is refused, is to be held responsible for every accident which may take place in the lady’s family, methinks that the time of this reverend and illustrious council will be largely occupied.”
“You will remember,” the doge said sternly, “that your previous conduct gives good ground for suspicion against you. You have already been banished from the state for two years for assassination, and such reports as reached us of your conduct in Constantinople, during your exile, were the reverse of satisfactory. Had it not been so, the prayers of your friends, that your term of banishment might be shortened, would doubtless have produced their effect.”
“At any rate,” Ruggiero said, “I can, with little difficulty, prove that I had no hand in any attempt upon Signor Polani’s daughters last night, seeing that I had friends spending the evening with me, and that we indulged in play until three o’clock this morning—an hour at which, I should imagine, the Signoras Polani would scarcely be abroad.”
“At what time did your friends assemble?”
“At nine o’clock,” Ruggiero said. “We met by agreement in the Piazza, somewhat before that hour, and proceeded together on foot to my house.”
“Who were your companions?”
Ruggiero gave the names of six young men, all connections of his family, and summonses were immediately sent for them to attend before the council.
“In the meantime, Messer Francisco Hammond, you can tell us whether you recogniz
e in the accused one of the assailants last night.”
“I cannot recognize him, your excellency,” Francis said; “but I can say certainly that he was not the leader of the party, whom I struck with my oar. The blow fell on the temple, and assuredly there would be marks of such a blow remaining today.”
As Francis was speaking, Ruggiero looked at him with a cold piercing glance, which expressed the reverse of gratitude for the evidence which he was giving in his favour, and something like a chill ran through him as he resumed his seat behind Signor Polani and his friends.
There was silence for a quarter of an hour. Occasionally the members of the council spoke in low tones to each other, but no word was spoken aloud, until the appearance of the first of the young men who had been summoned. One after another they gave their evidence, and all were unanimous in declaring that they had spent the evening with Ruggiero Mocenigo, and that he did not leave the room, from the moment of his arrival there soon after nine o’clock, until they left him at two in the morning.
“You have heard my witnesses,” Ruggiero said, when the last had given his testimony; “and I now ask your excellencies, whether it is right that a gentleman, of good family, should be exposed to a villainous accusation of this kind, on the barest grounds of suspicion?”
“You have heard the evidence which has been given, Signor Polani,” the doge said. “Do you withdraw your accusation against Signor Mocenigo?”
“I acknowledge, your excellency,” Signor Polani said, rising, “that Ruggiero Mocenigo has proved that he took no personal part in the affair, but I will submit to you that this in no way proves that he is not the author of the attempt. He would know that my first suspicion would fall upon him, and would, therefore, naturally leave the matter to be carried out by others, and would take precautions to enable him to prove, as he has done, that he was not present. I still maintain that the circumstances of the case, his threats to me, and the fact that my daughter will naturally inherit a portion of what wealth I might possess, and that, as I know and can prove, Ruggiero Mocenigo has been lately reduced to borrowing money of the Jews, all point to his being the author of this attempt, which would at once satisfy his anger against me, for having declined the honour of his alliance, and repair his damaged fortunes.”