The Three Brides, Love in a Cottage, and Other Tales Part 4

"Yes, signor. It lies below, moored to the landing."

"'Tis well; hast thou any scruples about aiding in a love intrigue?"

"None in the world, signor."

"Then I'll make a confidant of you."

"I will be all secrecy, signor."

"Briefly then, gondolier," said the mask, "I am in love with a very charming young person."

"Well."

"Well--and this young person loves me in return."

"Good; and you are going to marry her."

"Not so fast, gondolier. She has an old guardian, who, at the age of sixty, or more, has been absurd enough--only think of it--to propose to marry her himself."

"The absurd old fool!" cried Beppo, not without some twinges, for he thought of his own projects with regard to Zanetta.

"Now, then," said the mask, "I have resolved to run away with her to-night. I have the opportunity--for she is here in the Palazzo Colonna. Now will and can you aid me? I will recompense you liberally."

"Ah! my lord--your lords.h.i.+p has come to the right market," said the old sinner. "I'm used to affairs of this kind. Has your lords.h.i.+p a priest engaged?"

"I have not."

"Then I can recommend one. Hard by is a chapel dedicated to Our Lady, where there is a very worthy man, accustomed to affairs of this kind, who will tie the knot for a moderate fee, without asking any impertinent questions."

"His name?"

"Father Dominic."

"Good! he is the man for us--and you are the prince of gondoliers.

Get your gondola ready, and I will rejoin you at the foot of the stairs with the lady in a moment."

Old Beppo hastened to prepare his gondola, and while so doing, muttered to himself,--

"Well, well--this is a good night's work. I'm getting old, and I must soon retire from business. Every stroke of luck like this helps on the day when I shall call Zanetta mine. So, there's another old fool to be duped to-night! Serve him right! Why don't he keep his treasure under lock and key, as I do? But men will never learn wisdom. Here they come."

The young cavalier reappeared upon the marble steps, leading a lady, masked and veiled, but whose elastic step and graceful bearing seemed to designate her as one moving in the highest circles. The young lovers took their seats in the centre of the light craft, and drew the curtains round them, while Beppo pushed off, and his vigorous oar soon sent the shallop dancing over the waters of the lagoon. After a few moments the motion ceased, and Beppo informed his patron that they had arrived at their place of destination. After making the boat fast, the gondolier landed, and entered the small chapel which stood on the brink of the ca.n.a.l. In a few moments he returned, and informed the masked cavalier that all was prepared. The gentleman then handed out the lady, and both entered the chapel, Beppo keeping guard without, to prevent or give notice of any intrusion.

The marriage ceremony was performed very rapidly by Father Dominic, for he was just going to bed when the gondola arrived, and was duly anxious to despatch his business, that he might consign his wearied limbs to rest.

"Is it all over?" whispered Beppo, in the ear of the cavalier, as he came out with his lady.

"All right," replied the mask, in the same tone of voice. "But one thing perplexes me. I have no place that I can call my home, to-night.

The lady will be missed; my palace will be watched--I should incur the risk of swords crossing and bloodshed, if I sought to take her thither, to-night."

"If my house were not so very humble," said the gondolier, hesitatingly.

"The very thing," said the mask, joyfully. "No matter how humble the roof, provided that it shelter us. To-morrow we can arrange matters for flight, or for remaining."

"Then get into the gondola, my lord, and I will row you thither in a few minutes."

The party reembarked, and soon reached the gondolier's residence.

After fastening his craft, he unlocked his door; and striking a light, conducted his distinguished guests up stairs. As he pa.s.sed one of the chamber doors, the old gondolier, addressing the masked lady as he pointed to it, said,--

"You have made a moonlight flitting, to-night, signora, and I wish you joy of your escape. But if you had been as safely kept as a precious charge I have in this room, you would never have stood before the altar to-night, with your n.o.ble bridegroom."

"You forget that 'love laughs at locksmiths,'" said the cavalier.

At the door of their apartments, the old man, before bidding them good night, pausing, said,--

"Pardon me, signor, but I would fain know the name of the n.o.ble cavalier I have had the honor of serving to-night."

"You shall know to-morrow," replied the mask. "_Buona notte_, Beppo.

Remember it's carnival time."

The next morning Beppo was up betimes, anxious to learn the mystery connected with the married couple. He was not kept long in suspense.

His patron of the preceding evening soon made his appearance, but masked as before.

"Beppo!" said the stranger, "you rendered me an inestimable service last night."

"You rewarded me handsomely, signor, and I shall never regret it."

"Give me your word then, that you will never upbraid me with the service I imposed on you."

"I give you my word," said the old man, surprised; "but why do you exact it?"

"Because," said the stranger, raising his mask, "I am no Venetian n.o.ble, but simply Antonio Giraldi, a gondolier like yourself."

"You! Antonio Giraldi! And the lady--?"

"Was your ward, Zanetta. You locked her chamber door, and took the house key with you--but a ladder of ropes from a lady's balcony is as good as a staircase; and as I told you last night, 'love laughs at locksmiths.'"

Of course old Beppo stormed and swore, as irascible old gentlemen are very apt to do in similar circ.u.mstances, but he ended by forgiving the lovers, as that was the only act in his power. He not only forgave them, but gave up his gondola to the stronger hands of Antonio, and settled a handsome portion on Zanetta; nor did he ever regret his generosity, for they proved grateful and affectionate, and were the stay and solace of his declining years. Such is the veritable history of a carnival incident of the olden days of Venice.

THE SURRENDER OF CORNWALLIS.

A MILITARY SKETCH.

It was a great day for Dogtown, being no other than the anniversary of the annual militia muster; and on this occasion not only the Dogtown Blues were on parade upon the village green, but the entire regiment of which they formed a part, commanded by the gallant Colonel Zephaniah Slorkey, postmaster and variety-store keeper, was to engage in a sham fight, representing the surrender of Cornwallis. There was no attempt at historical costume, but it was understood that Slorkey, with his cowhide boots and rusty plated spurs, his long, swallow-tailed blue coat, and threadbare chapeau with a c.o.c.k's tail feather in it, mounted on his seventy-five dollar piebald mare, promoted from the plough and "dump cart," was the representative of General Was.h.i.+ngton. Major Israel Ryely, his second in command, a native of the rival village of Hardscrabble, was to figure as Lord Cornwallis; and the selection was the more appropriate, since the private relations of these two great men were any thing but amicable, and they espoused opposite sides in politics. Dr. Galenius Jalap, an apothecary and surgeon of the regiment, a man with a hatchet face, hook nose, and thin, weeping whiskers, the color of sugar gingerbread, undertook the character of La Fayette at very short notice, and a very dim conception of the character he had.