“That were to hope the winged lion would become a lamb, or the dark and soulless senate a community of self-mortifying and godly Carthusians!  No, reverend monk, we must seize the happy moment, and none is likely to be more fortunate than this, or trust our hopes to a cold and calculating policy that disregards all motives but its own object.  An hour—­nay, half the time—­would suffice to apprise the mariner, and ere the morning light, we might see the domes of Venice sinking into their own hated Lagunes.”

“These are the plans of confident youth, quickened by passion.  Believe me, son, it is not easy as thou imaginest, to mislead the agents of the police.  This palace could not be quitted, the felucca entered, or any one of the many necessary steps hazarded, without drawing upon us their eyes.  Hark!—­I hear the wash of oars—­a gondola is even now at the water-gate!”

Donna Florinda went hastily to the balcony, and as quickly returned to report that she had seen an officer of the Republic enter the palace.  There was no time to lose, and Don Camillo was again urged to conceal himself in the little oratory.  This necessary caution had hardly been observed before the door of the room opened, and the privileged messenger of the senate announced his own appearance.  It was the very individual who had presided at the fearful execution of the fisherman, and who had already announced the cessation of the Signor Gradenigo’s powers.  His eye glanced suspiciously around the room as he entered, and the Carmelite trembled in every limb at the look which encountered his own.  But all immediate apprehensions vanished when the usual artful smile with which he was wont to soften his disagreeable communications, took place of the momentary expression of a vague and habitual suspicion.

“Noble lady,” he said, bowing with deference to the rank of her he addressed, “you may learn by this assiduity on the part of their servant, the interest which the Senate takes in your welfare.  Anxious to do you pleasure, and ever attentive to the wishes of one so young, it hath been decided to give you the amusement and variety of another scene, at a season when the canals of our city become disagreeable, from their warmth and the crowds which live in the air.  I am sent to request you will make such preparations as may befit your convenience during a few months’ residence in a purer atmosphere, and that this may be done speedily, as your journey, always to prevent discomfort to yourself, will commence before the rising of the sun.”

“This is short notice, Signore, for a female about to quit the dwelling of her ancestors!”

“St. Mark suffers his love and parental care to overlook the vain ceremonies of form.  It is thus the parent dealeth with the child.  There is little need of unusual notice, since it will be the business of the government to see all that is necessary dispatched to the residence which is to be honored with the presence of so illustrious a lady.”