Chapter 2: A Conspiracy.
"Who are those ladies, Matteo?" Francis asked his friend one evening,as the latter, who was sitting with him in his gondola, while Giuseppirowed them along the Grand Canal, half rose and saluted two girls in apassing gondola.
"They are distant cousins of mine, Maria and Giulia Polani. They onlyreturned a short time since from Corfu. Their father is one of therichest merchants of our city. He has for the last three years beenliving in Corfu, which is the headquarters of his trade. The family isan old one, and has given doges to Venice. They are two of our richestheiresses, for they have no brothers. Their mother died soon after thebirth of Giulia."
"They both look very young," Francis said.
"Maria is about sixteen, her sister two years younger. There will be nolack of suitors for their hands, for although the family is notpolitically powerful, as it used to be, their wealth would cause themto be gladly received in our very first families."
"Who was the middle-aged lady sitting between them?"
"She is only their duenna," Matteo said carelessly. "She has been withthem since they were children, and their father places great confidencein her. And he had need to, for Maria will ere long be receivingbouquets and perfumed notes from many a young gallant."
"I can quite fancy that," Francis said, "for she is very pretty as wellas very rich, and, as far as I have observed, the two things do not govery often together. However, no doubt by this time her father haspretty well arranged in his mind whom she is to marry."
"I expect so," agreed Matteo.
"That is the worst of being born of good family. You have got to marrysome one of your father's choice, not your own, and that choice isdetermined simply by the desire to add to the political influence ofthe family, to strengthen distant ties, or to obtain powerfulconnections. I suppose it is the same everywhere, Matteo, but I dothink that a man or woman ought to have some voice in a matter of suchimportance to them."
"I think so, too, at the present time," Matteo laughed; "but I don'tsuppose that I shall be of that opinion when I have a family of sonsand daughters to marry.
"This gondola of yours must be a fast one indeed, Francisco, for withonly one rower she keeps up with almost all the pair oared boats, andyour boy is not exerting himself to the utmost, either."
"She can fly along, I can tell you, Matteo. You shall come out in hersome evening when Giuseppi and I both take oars. I have had her tendays now, and we have not come across anything that can hold her for amoment."
"It is always useful," Matteo said, "to have a fast boat. It isinvaluable in case you have been getting into a scrape, and have one ofthe boats of the city watch in chase of you."
"I hope I sha'n't want it for any purpose of that sort," Francisanswered, laughing. "I do not think I am likely to give cause to thecity watch to chase me."
"I don't think you are, Francisco, but there is never any saying."
"At any rate it is always useful to be able to go fast if necessary,and if we did want to get away, I do not think there are manypair-oared gondolas afloat that would overtake us, though a good fouroar might do so. Giuseppi and I are so accustomed to each other'sstroke now, that though in a heavy boat we might not be a match for twomen, in a light craft like this, where weight does not count for somuch, we would not mind entering her for a race against the two bestgondoliers on the canals, in an ordinary boat."
A few evenings later, Francis was returning homewards at about halfpast ten, when, in passing along a quiet canal, the boat was hailedfrom the shore.
"Shall we take him, Messer Francisco?" Giuseppi asked in a low voice;for more than once they had late in the evening taken a fare.
Francis rowed, like Giuseppi, in his shirt, and in the darkness theywere often taken for a pair-oared gondola on the lookout for a fare.Francis had sometimes accepted the offer, because it was an amusementto see where the passenger wished to go--to guess whether he was alover hastening to keep an appointment, a gambler on a visit to somequiet locality, where high play went on unknown to the authorities, orsimply one who had by some error missed his own gondola, and wasanxious to return home. It made no difference to him which way herowed. It was always possible that some adventure was to be met with,and the fare paid was a not unwelcome addition to Giuseppi's funds.
"Yes, we may as well take him," he replied to Giuseppi's question.
"You are in no hurry to get to bed, I suppose?" the man who had hailedthem said as the boat drew up against the wall of the canal.
"It does not make much difference to us, if we are well paid, to keepawake," Giuseppi said.
Upon such occasions he was always the spokesman.
"You know San Nicolo?"
"Yes, I know it," Giuseppi said; "but it is a long row--six miles, ifit's a foot."
"You will have to wait there for an hour or two, but I will give youhalf a ducat for your night's work."
"What do you say, partner?" Giuseppi asked Francis.
"We may as well go," the lad replied after a moment's pause.
The row was certainly a long one, but the night was delightful, and thehalf ducat was a prize for Giuseppi; but what influenced Francisprincipally in accepting was curiosity. San Nicolo was a little sandyislet lying quite on the outside of the group of islands. It wasinhabited only by a few fishermen; and Francis wondered that a man,evidently by his voice and manner of address belonging to the upperclass, should want to go to such a place as this at this hour of thenight. Certainly no ordinary motives could actuate him.
As the stranger took his place in the boat, Francis saw by the light ofthe stars that he was masked; but there was nothing very unusual inthis, as masks were not unfrequently worn at night by young gallants,when engaged on any frolic in which they wished their identity to beunrecognized. Still it added to the interest of the trip; and dippinghis oar in the water he set out at a slow, steady stroke well withinhis power. He adopted this partly in view of the length of the rowbefore them, partly because the idea struck him that it might be aswell that their passenger should not suspect that the boat was otherthan an ordinary gondola. The passenger, however, was well satisfiedwith the speed, for they passed two or three other gondolas beforeissuing from the narrow canals, and starting across the broad stretchof the lagoon.
Not a word was spoken until the gondola neared its destination. Thenthe passenger said:
"You row well. If you like the job I may employ you again."
"We are always ready to earn money," Francis said, speaking in a gruffvoice quite unlike his own.
"Very well. I will let you know, as we return, what night I shall wantyou again. I suppose you can keep your mouths shut on occasion, and cango without gossiping to your fellows as to any job on which you areemployed?"
"We can do that," Francis said. "It's no matter to us where ourcustomers want to go, if they are willing to pay for it; and as togossiping, there is a saying, 'A silver gag is the best for keeping themouth closed.'"
A few minutes later the bow of the gondola ran up on the sandy shore ofSan Nicolo. The stranger made his way forward and leapt out, and withthe words, "It may be two hours before I am back," walked rapidly away.
"Why, Messer Francisco," Giuseppi said when their passenger was wellout of hearing, "what on earth possessed you to accept a fare to such aplace as this? Of course, for myself, I am glad enough to earn half aducat, which will buy me a new jacket with silver buttons for the nextfesta; but to make such a journey as this was too much, and it will bevery late before we are back. If the padrone knew it he would be veryangry."
"I didn't do it to enable you to earn half a ducat, Giuseppi, althoughI am glad enough you should do so; but I did it because it seemed topromise the chance of an adventure. There must be something in this. Anoble--for I have no doubt he is one--would never be coming out to SanNicolo, at this time of night, without some very strong motive. Therecan be no rich heiress whom he might want to carry off living here, sothat can't be what he has come for. I think there
must be some secretmeeting, for as we came across the lagoon I saw one or two beats in thedistance heading in this direction. Anyhow, I mean to try and find outwhat it all means."
"You had better not, sir," Giuseppi said earnestly. "If there is anyplot on foot we had best not get mixed up in it. No one is too high ortoo low to escape the vengeance of the council, if found plottingagainst the state; and before now gondolas, staved in and empty, havebeen found drifting on the lagoons, and the men who rowed them havenever been heard of again. Once in the dungeons of Saint Mark it wouldbe of no use to plead that you had entered into the affair simply forthe amusement. The fact that you were not a regular boatman would makethe matter all the worse, and the maxim that 'dead men tell no tales'is largely acted upon in Venice.
"I think, sir, the best plan will be to row straight back, and leaveour fare to find his way home as best he may."
"I mean to find something out about it if I can, Giuseppi. A statesecret may be dangerous, but it may be valuable. Anyhow, there can beno great risk in it. On the water I think we can show our heels toanyone who chases us; and once in Venice, we are absolutely safe, forno one would suspect a gondola of Mr. Hammond, the English merchant, ofhaving any connection with a hired craft with its two gondoliers."
"That is true enough, sir; but I don't like it for all that. However,if you have made up your mind to it, there is nothing more to be said."
"Very well. You stay here, and I will go and look round. You had betterget the gondola afloat, and be ready to start at the instant, so that,if I should have to run for it, I can jump on board and be off in amoment."
Francis made his way quietly up to the little group of huts inhabitedby the fishermen, but in none of them could he see any signs oflife--no lights were visible, nor could he hear the murmur of voices.There were, he knew, other buildings scattered about on the island; buthe had only the light of the stars to guide him, and, not knowinganything of the exact position of the houses, he thought it better toreturn to the boat.
"I can find no signs of them, Giuseppi."
"All the better, Messer Francisco. There are some sorts of game, whichit is well for the safety of the hunter not to discover. I was veryglad, I can tell you, when I heard your whistle, and made out yourfigure returning at a walk. Now you are back I will take an hour's nap,and I should advise you to do the same."
But Francis had no thought of sleep, and sat down at his end of thegondola, wondering over the adventure, and considering whether or notit would be worth while to follow it up another night. That it was aplot of some sort he had little doubt. There were always in Venice twoparties, equally anxious perhaps for the prosperity of the republic,but differing widely as to the means by which that prosperity would bebest achieved, and as to the alliances which would, in the long run,prove most beneficial to her. There were also needy and desperate menready enough to take bribes from any who might offer them, and tointrigue in the interest of Padua or Ferrara, Verona, Milan, orGenoa--whichever might for the time be their paymasters.
Francis was English, but he had been long enough in Venice to feel apride in the island city, and to be almost as keenly interested in herfortunes as were his companions and friends; and a certain sense ofduty, mingled with his natural love of adventure, decided him to followup the chance which had befallen him, and to endeavour to ascertain thenature of the plot which was, he had little doubt, being hatched at SanNicolo.
In a very few minutes the regular breathing of Giuseppi, who had curledhimself up in the bottom of the boat, showed that he had gone to sleep;and he did not stir until, an hour and a half after the return ofFrancis, the latter heard the fall of footsteps approaching thegondola.
"Wake up, Giuseppi, here comes our fare!"
Francis stood up and stretched himself as the stranger came alongside,as if he too had been fast asleep.
"Take me back to the spot where I hailed you," the fare said briefly,as he stepped into the boat and threw himself back on the cushions, andwithout a word the lads dipped their oars in the water and the gondolaglided away towards Venice.
Just as they reached the mouth of the Grand Canal, and were about toturn into it, a six-oared gondola shot out from under the point, and avoice called out:
"Stop, in the name of the republic, and give an account of yourselves!"
"Row on," the passenger exclaimed, starting up. "Ten ducats if you canset me safely on shore."
Had the lads been real gondoliers, it is probable that even thistempting offer would not have induced them to disregard the order fromthe galley, for they would have run no slight risk in so doing. ButFrancis had no desire to be caught, and perhaps imprisoned for aconsiderable time, until he was able to convince the council that hisshare of the night's work had been merely the result of a boyish freak.With two strokes of his oar, therefore, he swept the boat's head round,thereby throwing their pursuers directly astern of them; then he andGiuseppi threw their whole weight into the stroke, and the boat dancedover the water at a pace very different to that at which it hadhitherto proceeded.
But, fast as they went, the galley travelled somewhat faster, therowers doing their utmost in obedience to the angry orders of theirofficer; and had the race been continued on a broad stretch of water,it would sooner or later have overhauled the gondola. But Francis wasperfectly aware of this, and edged the boat away towards the end of thePiazzetta, and then, shooting her head round, dashed at full speedalong the canal by the side of the ducal palace, the galley being atthe time some forty yards behind.
"The first to the right," Francis said, and with scarce a pause intheir speed, they turned off at right angles up the first canal theycame to. Again and again they turned and twisted, regardless of thedirection in which the canals took them, their only object being togain on their pursuers, who lost considerably at each turn, beingobliged always to check their speed, before arriving at each angle, toallow the boat to go round.
In ten minutes she was far behind, and they then abated their speed,and turned the boat's head in the direction in which they wished to go.
"By San Paolo," the stranger said, "that was well done! You are mastersof your craft, and sent your boat along at a pace which must haveastonished those fellows in that lumbering galley. I had no reason tofear them, but I do not care to be interfered with and questioned bythese jacks-in-office of the republic."
A few minutes later they reached the place where he embarked, and as hegot out he handed the money he had promised to Giuseppi.
"Next Thursday night," he said, "at half past ten."
"It seems a dangerous sort of service, signor," Giuseppi saidhesitatingly. "It is no joke to disobey the officers of the republic,and next time we may not be so fortunate."
"It's worth taking a little risk when you are well paid," the othersaid, turning away, "and it is not likely we shall run against one ofthe state galleys another night."
"Home, now, Giuseppi," Francis said, "we can talk about it tomorrow.It's the best night's work you ever did in your life, and as I have hada grand excitement we are both contented."
During the next few days Francis debated seriously with himself whetherto follow up the adventure; but he finally decided on doing so, feelingconvinced that there could be no real danger, even were the boat seizedby one of the state galleys; as his story, that he had gone into thematter simply to discover whether any plot was intended against therepublic, would finally be believed, as it would be beyond the boundsof probability that a lad of his age could himself have been concernedin such a conspiracy. As to Giuseppi, he offered no remonstrance whenFrancis told him that he intended to go out to San Nicolo on thefollowing Thursday, for the ten ducats he had received were a sumlarger than he could have saved in a couple of years' steady work, andwere indeed quite a fortune in his eyes. Another such a sum, and hewould be able, when the time came, to buy a gondola of his own, tomarry, and set up housekeeping in grand style. As for the danger, ifFrancis was willing to run it he could do the same; for after all, afew mont
hs' imprisonment was the worst that could befall him for hisshare in the business.
Before the day came Matteo Giustiniani told Francis a piece of newswhich interested him.
"You remember my cousin Maria Polani, whom we met the other evening onthe Grand Canal?"
"Of course I do, Matteo. What of her?"
"Well, what do you think? Ruggiero Mocenigo, whom I pointed out to youon the Piazza--the man who had been banished for two years--has askedfor her hand in marriage."
"He is not going to have it, I hope," Francis said indignantly. "Itwould be a shame, indeed, to give her to such a man as that."
"That is just what her father thought, Francisco, and he refusedRuggiero pretty curtly, and told him, I believe, he would rather seeher in her grave than married to him; and I hear there was a regularscene, and Ruggiero went away swearing Polani should regret hisrefusal."
"I suppose your cousin does not care much about his threats," Francissaid.
"I don't suppose he cares much about them," Matteo replied; "butRuggiero is very powerfully connected, and may do him damage, not tospeak of the chance of his hiring a bravo to stab him on the firstopportunity. I know my father advised Polani to be very cautious wherehe went at night for a time. This fellow, Ruggiero, is a dangerousenemy. If he were to get Polani stabbed, it would be next to impossibleto prove that it was his doing, however strong the suspicion might be;for mere suspicion goes for nothing against a man with his influenceand connections. He has two near relations on the council, and if hewere to burn down Polani's mansion, and to carry off Maria, the chancesare against his being punished, if he did but keep out of the way for afew months."
As in England powerful barons were in the habit of waging private warswith each other, and the carrying off a bride by force was no very rareevent, this state of things did not appear, to Francis, as outrageousas it would do to an English lad of the present day, but he shook hishead.
"Of course one understands, Matteo, that everywhere powerful nobles dothings which would be regarded as crimes if done by others; but,elsewhere, people can fortify their houses, and call out and arm theirretainers, and stand on their guard. But that here, in a city likethis, private feuds should be carried on, and men stabbed whenunconscious of danger, seems to me detestable."
"Of course it isn't right," Matteo said carelessly, "but I don't knowhow you are going to put a stop to it; and after all, our quarrels hereonly involve a life or two, while in other countries nobles go to warwith each other, and hundreds of lives, of people who have nothing todo with the quarrel, may be sacrificed."
This was a light in which Francis had hardly looked upon the matterbefore, and he was obliged to own that even private assassination,detestable as it was, yet caused much less suffering than feudal war.Still, he was not disposed entirely to give in to his friend's opinion.
"That is true, Matteo; but at the same time, in a war it is fairfighting, while a stab in the back is a cowardly business."
"It is not always fair fighting," Matteo replied. "You hear of castlesbeing surprised, and the people massacred without a chance ofresistance; of villages being burned, and the people butcheredunresistingly. I don't think there is so much more fairness one waythan the other. Polani knows he will have to be careful, and if helikes he can hire bravos to put Ruggiero out of the way, just asRuggiero can do to remove him. There's a good deal to be said for bothsides of the question."
Francis felt this was so, and that although he had an abhorrence of theVenetian method of settling quarrels, he saw that as far as the publicwere concerned, it was really preferable to the feudal method, of bothparties calling out their retainers and going to war with each other,especially as assassinations played no inconsiderable part in thefeudal struggles of the time.
On the Thursday night the gondola was in waiting at the agreed spot.Francis had thought it probable that the stranger might this time asksome questions as to where they lived and their usual place of plyingfor hire, and would endeavour to find out as much as he could aboutthem, as they could not but suspect that he was engaged in some veryunusual enterprise. He had therefore warned Giuseppi to be very carefulin his replies. He knew that it was not necessary to say more, forGiuseppi had plenty of shrewdness, and would, he was sure, invent someplausible story without the least difficulty, possessing, as he did,plenty of the easy mendacity so general among the lower classes of theraces inhabiting countries bordering on the Mediterranean. Their farecame down to the gondola a few minutes after the clock had tolled thehalf hour.
"I see you are punctual," he said, "which is more than most of you menare."
Francis was rowing the bow oar, and therefore stood with his back tothe passenger, and was not likely to be addressed by him, as he wouldnaturally turn to Giuseppi, who stood close behind him. As Francis hadexpected, as soon as they were out on the lagoon the passenger turnedto his companion and began to question him.
"I cannot see your faces," he said; "but by your figures you are bothyoung, are you not?"
"I am but twenty-two," Giuseppi said, "and my brother is a yearyounger."
"And what are your names?"
"Giovanni and Beppo Morani."
"And is this boat your own?"
"It is, signor. Our father died three years ago, leaving us his boat."
"And where do you usually ply?"
"Anywhere, signor, just as the fancy seizes us. Sometimes one place isgood, sometimes another."
"And where do you live?"
"We don't live anywhere, signor. When night comes, and business isover, we tie up the boat to a post, wrap ourselves up, and go to sleepat the bottom. It costs nothing, and we are just as comfortable thereas we should be on straw in a room."
"Then you must be saving money."
"Yes; we are laying money by. Some day, I suppose, we shall marry, andour wives must have homes. Besides, sometimes we are lazy and don'twork. One must have some pleasure, you know."
"Would you like to enter service?"
"No, signor. We prefer being our own masters; to take a fare or leaveit as we please."
"Your boat is a very fast one. You went at a tremendous rate when thegalley was after us the other night."
"The boat is like others," Giuseppi said carelessly; "but most men canrow fast when the alternative is ten ducats one way or a prison theother."
"Then there would be no place where I could always find you in thedaytime if I wanted you?"
"No, signor; there would be no saying where we might be. We havesometimes regular customers, and it would not pay us to disappointthem, even if you paid us five times the ordinary fare. But we couldalways meet you at night anywhere, when you choose to appoint."
"But how can I appoint," the passenger said irritably, "if I don't knowwhere to find you?"
Giuseppi was silent for a stroke or two.
"If your excellency would write in figures, half past ten or eleven, orwhatever time we should meet you, just at the base of the column of thepalace--the corner one on the Piazzetta--we should be sure to be theresometime or other during the day, and would look for it."
"You can read and write, then?" the passenger asked.
"I cannot do that, signor," Giuseppi said, "but I can make out figures.That is necessary to us, as how else could we keep time with ourcustomers? We can read the sundials, as everyone else can; but as toreading and writing, that is not for poor lads like us."
The stranger was satisfied. Certainly every one could read thesundials; and the gondoliers would, as they said, understand hisfigures if he wrote them.
"Very well," he said. "It is probable I shall generally know, each timeI discharge you, when I shall want you again; but should there be anychange, I will make the figures on the base of the column at the cornerof the Piazzetta, and that will mean the hour at which you are to meetme that night at the usual place."
Nothing more was said, until the gondola arrived at the same spot atwhich it had landed the passenger on the previous occasion.
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sp; "I shall be back in about the same time as before," the fare said whenhe alighted.
As he strode away into the darkness, Francis followed him. He wasshoeless, for at that time the lower class seldom wore any protectionto the feet, unless when going a journey over rough ground. Among thegondoliers shoes were unknown; and Francis himself generally took hisoff, for coolness and comfort, when out for the evening in his boat.
He kept some distance behind the man he was following, for as therewere no hedges or inclosures, he could make out his figure against thesky at a considerable distance. As Francis had expected, he did notmake towards the village, but kept along the island at a short distancefrom the edge of the water.
Presently Francis heard the dip of oars, and a gondola ran up on thesands halfway between himself and the man he was following. He threwhimself down on the ground. Two men alighted, and went in the samedirection as the one who had gone ahead.
Francis made a detour, so as to avoid being noticed by the gondoliers,and then again followed. After keeping more than a quarter of a milenear the water, the two figures ahead struck inshore. Francis followedthem, and in a few minutes they stopped at a black mass, rising abovethe sand. He heard them knock, and then a low murmur, as if they wereanswering some question from within. Then they entered, and a doorclosed.
He moved up to the building. It was a hut of some size, but had adeserted appearance. It stood between two ridges of low sand hills, andthe sand had drifted till it was halfway up the walls. There was nogarden or inclosure round it, and any passerby would have concludedthat it was uninhabited. The shutters were closed, and no gleam oflight showed from within.
After stepping carefully round it, Francis took his post round theangle close to the door, and waited. Presently he heard footstepsapproaching--three knocks were given on the door, and a voice withinasked, "Who is there?"
The reply was, "One who is in distress."
The question came, "What ails you?"
And the answer, "All is wrong within."
Then there was a sound of bars being withdrawn, and the door opened andclosed again.
There were four other arrivals. The same questions were asked andanswered each time. Then some minutes elapsed without any fresh comers,and Francis thought that the number was probably complete. He lay downon the sand, and with his dagger began to make a hole through the wood,which was old and rotten, and gave him no difficulty in piercing it.
He applied his eye to the orifice, and saw that there were some twelvemen seated round a table. Of those facing him he knew three or four bysight; all were men of good family. Two of them belonged to thecouncil, but not to the inner Council of Ten. One, sitting at the topof the table, was speaking; but although Francis applied his ear to thehole he had made, he could hear but a confused murmur, and could notcatch the words. He now rose cautiously, scooped up the sand so as tocover the hole in the wall, and swept a little down over the spot wherehe had been lying, although he had no doubt that the breeze, whichwould spring up before morning, would soon drift the light shiftingsand over it, and obliterate the mark of his recumbent figure. Then hewent round to the other side of the hut and bored another hole, so asto obtain a view of the faces of those whose backs had before beentowards him.
One of these was Ruggiero Mocenigo. Another was a stranger to Francis,and some difference in the fashion of his garments indicated that hewas not a Venetian, but, Francis thought, a Hungarian. The other threewere not nobles. One of them Francis recognized, as being a man of muchinfluence among the fishermen and sailors. The other two were unknownto him.
As upwards of an hour had been spent in making the two holes and takingobservations, Francis thought it better now to make his way back to hisboat, especially as it was evident that he would gain nothing byremaining longer. Therefore, after taking the same precautions asbefore, to conceal all signs of his presence, he made his way acrossthe sands back to his gondola.
"Heaven be praised, you are back again!" Giuseppi said, when he heardhis low whistle, as he came down to the boat. "I have been in a feverever since I lost sight of you. Have you succeeded?"
"I have found out that there is certainly a plot of some sort being gotup, and I know some of those concerned in it, but I could hear nothingthat went on. Still, I have succeeded better than I expected, and I amwell satisfied with the night's work."
"I hope you won't come again, Messer Francisco. In the first place, youmay not always have the fortune to get away unseen. In the next place,it is a dangerous matter to have to do with conspiracies, whicheverside you are on. The way to live long in Venice is to make no enemies."
"Yes, I know that, Giuseppi, and I haven't decided yet what to do inthe matter."
A quarter of an hour later, their fare returned to the boat. This timethey took a long detour, and, entering Venice by one of the manycanals, reached the landing place without adventure. The strangerhanded Giuseppi a ducat.
"I do not know when I shall want you again; but I will mark the hour,as agreed, on the pillar. Do not fail to go there every afternoon; andeven if you don't see it, you might as well come round here at halfpast ten of a night. I may want you suddenly."
Before going to sleep that night, Francis thought the matter overseriously, and finally concluded that he would have no more to do withit. No doubt, by crossing over to San Nicolo in the daytime, he mightbe able to loosen a plank at the back of the hut, or to cut so large anopening that he could hear, as well as see, what was going on within;but supposing he discovered that a plot was on hand in favour of theenemies of Venice, such as Padua or Hungary, what was he to do next? Atthe best, if he denounced it, and the officers of the republicsurrounded the hut when the conspirators were gathered there, arrestedthem, and found upon them, or in their houses, proofs sufficient tocondemn them, his own position would not be enviable. He would gain,indeed, the gratitude of the republic; but as for rewards, he had noneed of them. On the other hand, he would draw upon himself the enmityof some eight or ten important families, and all their connections andfollowers, and his life would be placed in imminent danger. They wouldbe all the more bitter against him, inasmuch as the discovery would nothave been made by accident, but by an act of deliberate prying intomatters which concerned him in no way, he not being a citizen of therepublic.
So far his action in the matter had been a mere boyish freak; and nowthat he saw it was likely to become an affair of grave importance,involving the lives of many persons, he determined to have nothingfurther to do with it.