"It is the Prince of Iseo," they cried, and, saying it, fled from the
house of doom.
At that hour, those whose gondolas were passing the Palazzo Pisani
observed a strange spectacle. A priest stood upon the balcony of the
house holding a silver lamp in his hand; and as he waited, a boat
emerged from the shadows about the church of San Luca and came swiftly
toward him.
"The Signori of the Night," the loiterers exclaimed in hushed
whispers, and went on their way quickly.
* * * * *
Very early next morning, a rumor of strange events, which had happened
in Venice during the hours of darkness, drew a great throng of the
people to the square before the ducal palace.
"Have you not heard it," man cried to man--"the Palazzo Pisani lacks
a mistress to-day? The police make their toilet in the boudoir of my
lady. And they say that the lord of Pisa is dead."
"Worse than that, my friends," a gondolier protested, "Andrea Foscari
crossed to Maestre last night, and the dogs are even now on his
heels."
"Your news grows stale," croaked a hag who was passing; "go to the
Piazzetta and you shall see the head of one who prayed before the
altar ten minutes ago."
They trooped off, eager for the spectacle. When they reached the
Piazzetta, the hag was justified. The head of a man lay bleeding upon
the marble slab between the columns. It was the head of the Marquis of
Cittadella.
In the palace of the police, meanwhile, Pietro Falier, the Captain,
was busy with his complaints.
Pages:
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318