Isotta Contarini [pp. 128-133]

very watchful of her, and would not, if they knew bride to his parents, and all the rest would be a reit, permit her to speak to a foreigner. She agreed alized romance.
to pass the Molo at eight o'clock the next evening. The next morning, half an hour before the train
He should be there, and the gondolier would land started, Ashley and Isotta met at the station. She
and take him on board. had only a little luggage, such as she could take from
The hour came at last. Ashley had been on the her home without suspicion. Libittina was with her,
spot since half-past six. A few minutes after the
time appointed, he saw.the boat with its precious
freight coming toward him, the gondolier in the stern,
and Libittina near Isotta. A fourth figure was
added. The capperone took her place near the bow,
and he occupied the one she had quitted.
The night was all that could be desired; cool
enough for wraps, but a perfect poem of Nature. It
was one of the most delicious of all the delicious
nights of Venice. The moon was up; its silvery spell
was upon the City of the Sea, which lay hushed, enchanting not less than enchanted, under the magic
of its rays. The moon is nowhere such a sorceress
as in Venice. She turns the watery capital into a
dreamy picture, setting its domes and bell-towers in
luminous beauty, and softly mirroring the glorious
heavens in its green lagoons. No one can say he has
seen Venice who has not seen it under the moonlight,
which idealizes its crumbling architecture, and renders poetic its every shred of prose.
As the gondola slipped off toward the Lido,
swaying gently to the movement of the rower; as
the silence, pensiveness, and beauty of the scene
stirred the blood of the young couple with deliciously-mysterious influence, they looked into one another's eyes, and gravitated together. His hand
went to hers; her head drooped on his shoulder and
crept to his bosom. Nature had asserted herself,
and conventionality had retired. Not a word had
been said. They were happy, and happiness has no
need of speech. Libittina dozed; the gondolier
mechanically and drowsily impelled the boat, and
Isotta and Clifford, drinking each the wine of the
other's spirit, were blessed with love's intoxication.
At last he whispered: "Darling Isotta, I love
you very much. Will you be my wife?" The ripe,
warm mouth gave answer in a kiss, and the sky and
the sea were the witnesses of the handsel of their
hearts. That broke the sentimental stillness, and
their unloosed tongues ran the round of delightful
platitudes which every passion inspires afresh.
They were then far beyond the Lido, fairly out
upon the Adriatic. Ashley signed to the gondolier
to return, and fell back into the new world which
love had created from his divine imagining. While
they retraced their course, their future plans were
discussed and determined. They must elope, Isotta
said. Her family would never consent to her marriage with a foreigner, and a plain citizen; nor
could a priest be found in all Venice who would
unite a Catholic to a Protestant. She knew a friar
in Milan on whom she felt sure she could prevail to
perform the sacred office, and to Milan they would
fly the next morning; and, ere the evening came,
they would be fast wedded. Then they would journey to London; Ashley would present his Italian
and her cousin, the young man who had accompanied Isotta to the Piazza, and of whom Clifford had
been very jealous until he had been informed of his
kinship to the Contarini. The cousin sympathized
with the lovers, and was willing to promote their
happiness; and Isotta declared she owed him much
for his assistance; that but for him she might not
have been able to elude the watchfulness and escape
the suspicion of her family. The train was ready;
the railway official had already thrice announced in
stentorian tones the immediate departure for Milan.
Libittina was in a tumult of tears, and wrung her
stout, brown hands as if she were relinquishing her
unshrived soul forever; Giuseppe Alosso, the cousin,
kissed Isotta on both cheeks, and commended her
to the care of the Virgin, and the train moved quietly out of the station, the lovers seated very close together, and holding one another's hands.
"Do not weep," said Clifford to Isotta. "From
this moment our new life, our long day of happiness
begins."
"My tears, dearest, are tears of joy; and yet
some of them may fall at the thought that, for the
first time, I am leaving my home and country, perhaps never to return. You who have traveled so
much cannot understand what it is for a Venetian
maiden to look her last on Venice."
"But if you give up Venice, Isotta, you gain love."
"Yes, yes," she answered, smiling through her
tears; "and love is worth the world."
Arrived at Milan, they drove to the H6tel Cavour. Then Isotta proposed to go alone in search
of the friar she had formerly known in Venice, that
they might be certain of his compliance ere they
should appear before him with their request. "He is
a worldly priest," she said. "He loves money, and
a bribe may be necessary."
"Take my pocket-book," remarked Ashley. "It
will be cheap to buy our happiness at any price."
"That is not necessary. If he should want
money, it will be time to pay him when he has performed the ceremony."
Clifford insisted; ordered a vettura, and Isotta
stepped in, with the assurance that she would be
back within an hour.
The hour passed, another and another. It was
long after dark, and Ashley was half crazed with
anxiety and fear. Something direful must have happened. Any knowledge were better than that dreadful suspense. He knew not what to do; he was not
acquainted with anybody in the city; he was afraid
to quit the hotel to search for her, lest some tidings
should come in his absence. He passed the night in
torment: he did not close his eyes, but resolved the
next morning to apply to the police, and leave no
stone unturned to solve the mystery of his betrothed's
disappearance.
APPLETOWVS' JO UR.AV,4.
132