Blackwoods Edinburgh Magazine | Page 7

mysterious old woman who had of
late occupied so much of his thoughts. She was followed by a number
of the rabble, who pressed upon her with oaths and curses, asserting
that she was one of the party which had attacked the palace of the
Malipieri.
"I saw her holding the ladder," exclaimed one fellow.
"Nay, she was climbing up it herself," cried a second.
"Strike the foul witch dead!" shouted a score of voices.
The old woman's life was in the greatest peril, when a strange and
unaccountable, but at the same time irresistible impulse, moved
Antonio to go to her rescue. He was forcing his way through the crowd
with this intention, when the object of the popular fury turned her head
towards him. Her veil was for a moment partially drawn aside,
affording a glimpse of her features in profile; and Antonio, still the
slave of his diseased imagination, fancied that her yellow shriveled
features had been metamorphosed into a countenance of regular beauty;
such a countenance, in short, as befitted the graceful and symmetrical
form to which it belonged. Confused and bewildered, the naturally
weak and undecided youth stood deliberating and uncertain whether he
should attempt the rescue, which would have been by no means
difficult to accomplish by the display of a little boldness and
promptitude. Whilst he was thus hesitating, there suddenly broke
through the crowd a young man, attired like himself in a black dress,
and holding a naked rapier in his hand. The new comer had probably
lost his mask in the tumult and confusion, for his features were
uncovered, and Antonio saw, to his inexpressible consternation and
astonishment, that they were the exact counterpart of his own. Before
he could recover from this new shock, the stranger, by the aid of his
fierce and determined demeanour, and the rapid play of his weapon,
had made his way to the mysterious old woman, whose back was
turned towards him, and seizing her round the waist he again forced a
passage through the throng to the nearest gondola, which happened to
be that of the young painter. The crowd pressed after him, and Antonio
was hurried along with it to the edge of the quay. But at the very
moment that, to avoid being pushed into the water by the throng, he
sprang into one end of his gondola, he saw the stranger, who had just
entered it at the other, gaze with a look of disgust and dismay on the

features of her he had rescued, and then with a cry of horror, leap into
another boat, which immediately rowed rapidly away. At the same
instant Jacopo, by a strong sweep of the oar, spun the gondola round,
and shot into a narrow canal which soon led them out of sight and
sound of the scene of confusion they had just left.
These various events had succeeded each other so rapidly, that Antonio
could hardly credit his senses when he found himself in this strange
manner the deliverer of the mysterious being who now sat under the
awning of his gondola, her frightful countenance, unveiled in the
struggle and no longer seen through the beautifying prism of the young
artist's imagination, again displaying the yellow and wrinkled skin, and
the deep-set glittering eyes, which now seemed fixed upon him with an
expression of love and gratitude that froze his blood. With a shuddering
sensation he retreated to the stern of the boat, where Jacopo stood pale
and trembling, crossing himself without a moment's intermission.
"Are you mad, Signore," whispered the gondolier, "to risk your life in
behalf of such a frightful witch? Never did I see you so ready with your
rapier, flashing it in people's eyes as though it had been one of your
painting brushes."
"By Heaven, Jacopo," answered Antonio, "that was not I"--
"The saints protect us!" interrupted the gondolier. "You are assuredly
bewitched, or have lost your senses, Signore. To think of your thus
denying your own noble daring! Do, for the blessed virgin's sake, let us
jump out upon the next landing-place, and leave the gondola to the
sorceress who has bewitched you. Holy mother! she is coming this
way!"
A prey to the strangest and most contradictory emotions, Antonio
hastily advanced to meet the mysterious being, whom he could not help
regarding with superstitious awe, though he at the same time felt
himself drawn towards her by a fascination, against which he found it
was in vain to contend. The features of the unknown were again
shrouded carefully in her veil, but her black and brilliant eyes glittered
through it like nebulous stars.
"To the house of the Capitano of Fiume," whispered she to Antonio,
and then retreated, as if anxious to avoid further conversation, into the