Scarcely had Abellino achieved the bloody deed which employed every
tongue in Venice, when he changed his dress and whole appearance
with so much expedition and success as to prevent the slightest
suspicion of his being Matteo's murderer. He quitted the gardens
unquestioned, nor left the least trace which could lead to a
discovery.
He arrived at Cinthia's dwelling. It was already evening. Cinthia
opened the door, and Abellino entered the common apartment.
"Where are the rest?" said he in a savage tone of voice whose sound
made Cinthia tremble.
"They have been asleep," she answered, "since mid-day. Probably
they mean to go out on some pursuit to-night." Abellino threw
himself into a chair, and seemed to be lost in thought.
"But why are you always so gloomy, Abellino?" said Cinthia, drawing
near him; "it's that which makes you so ugly. Prithee away with
those frowns; they make your countenance look worse than nature made
it?"
Abellino gave no answer.
"Really, you are enough to frighten a body! Come, now, let us be
friends, Abellino; I begin not to dislike you, and to endure your
appearance; and I don't know but--"
"Go, wake the sleepers!" roared the bravo.
"The sleepers? Pshaw, let them sleep on, the stupid rogues. Sure
you are not afraid to be alone with me? Mercy on me, one would
think I looked as terrible as yourself? Do I? Nay, look on me,
Abellino."
Cinthia, to say the truth, was by no means an ill-looking girl; her
eyes were bright and expressive; the hair fell in shining ringlets
over her bosom; her lips were red and full, and she bowed them
towards Abellino's. But Abellino's were still sacred by the touch
of Rosabella's cheek. He started from his seat, and removed, yet
gently, Cinthia's hand, which rested on his shoulder.
"Wake the sleepers, my good girl," said he, "I must speak with them
this moment."
Cinthia hesitated.
"Nay, go," said he, in a fierce voice.
Cinthia retired in silence; yet as she crossed the threshold, she
stopped for an instant and menaced him with her finger.
Abellino strode through the chamber with hasty steps, his head
reclining on his shoulder, his arms folded over his breast.
"The first step is taken," said he to himself. "There is one moral
monster the less on earth. I have committed no sin by this murder;
I have but performed a sacred duty. Aid me, thou Great and Good,
for arduous is the task before me. Ah, should that task be gone
through with success, and Rosabella be the reward of my labours--
Rosabella? What, shall the Doge's niece bestow on the outcast
Abellino? Oh, madman that I am to hope it, never can I reach the
goal of my wishes! No, never was there frenzy to equal mine. To
attach myself at first sight to--Yet Rosabella alone is capable of
thus enchanting at first sight--Rosabella and Valeria? To be
beloved by two such women--Yet, though 'tis impossible to attain,
the striving to attain such an end is glorious. Illusions so
delightful will at least make me happy for a moment, and alas, the
wretched Abellino needs so many illusions that for a moment will
make him happy! Oh, surely, knew the world what I gladly would
accomplish, the world would both love and pity me."