pelisse, seemed absorbed in thought. Even by the imperfect light of the
stars, Peschiera's face wore an air of sovereign triumph. The result had
justified that careless and insolent confidence in himself and in
fortune, which was the most prominent feature in the character of the
man, who, both bravo and gamester, had played against the world with his
rapier in one hand and cogged dice in the other. Violante, once in a
vessel filled by his own men, was irretrievably in his power. Even her
father must feel grateful to learn that the captive of Peschiera had
saved name and repute in becoming Peschiera's wife. Even the pride of
sex in Violante herself must induce her to confirm what Peschiera, of
course, intended to state,--namely, that she was a willing partner in a
bridegroom's schemes of flight towards the altar rather than the poor
victim of a betrayer, and receiving his hand but from his mercy. He saw
his fortune secured, his success envied, his very character rehabilitated
by his splendid nuptials. Ambition began to mingle with his dreams of
pleasure and pomp. What post in the Court or the State too high for the
aspirations of one who had evinced the most incontestable talent for
active life,--the talent to succeed in all that the will had undertaken?
Thus mused the count, half-forgetful of the present, and absorbed in the
golden future, till he was aroused by a loud hail from the vessel and the
bustle on board the boat, as the sailors caught at the rope flung forth
to them.

He then rose and moved towards Violante. But the man who was still in
charge of her passed the count lightly, half-leading, half-carrying his
passive prisoner. "Pardon, Excellency," said the man, in Italian, "but
the boat is crowded, and rocks so much that your aid would but disturb
our footing." Before Peschiera could reply, Violante was already on the
steps of the vessel, and the count paused till, with elated smile, he
saw her safely standing on the deck. Beatrice followed, and then