"I have served the Republic faithfully and fervently for many a long
year," answered Andreas, with a bitter smile; "I have risked my life
without hesitation; I have shed my blood with profusion; I asked
nothing for my reward but to pass my old age in soft tranquillity,
and of this reward have I been cheated. My bosom friends, the
companions of my youth, the confidants of my age, have been torn
from me by the daggers of banditti; and you, Flodoardo, you, on whom
I heaped all favours, have now deprived me of this my only remaining
comfort. Answer me, Rosabella; hast thou in truth bestowed thy
heart on Flodoardo irrevocably?"
One hand of Rosabella's still rested on her uncle's shoulder; with
the other she clasped Flodoardo's and pressed it fondly against her
heart--yet Flodoardo seemed still unsatisfied. No sooner had the
Doge's question struck his ear, than his countenance became
dejected; and though his hand returned the pressure of Rosabella's,
he shook his head mournfully, with an air of doubt, and cast on her
a penetrating look, as would he have read the secrets of her inmost
soul.
Andreas withdrew himself gently from Rosabella's arm, and for some
time paced the apartment slowly, with a countenance sad and earnest.
Rosabella sank upon a sofa which stood near her, and wept.
Flodoardo eyed the Doge, and waited for his decision with
impatience.
Thus passed some minutes. An awful silence reigned through the
chamber; Andreas seemed to be labouring with some resolution of
dreadful importance. The lovers wished, yet dreaded, the conclusion
of the scene, and with every moment their anxiety became more
painful.
"Flodoardo!" at length said the Doge, and suddenly stood still in
the middle of the chamber. Flodoardo advanced with a respectful
air. "Young man," he continued, "I am at length resolved; Rosabella
loves you, nor will I oppose the decision of her heart; but
Rosabella is much too precious to admit of my bestowing her on the
first who thinks fit to demand her. The man to whom I give her must
be worthy such a gift. She must be the reward of his services; nor
can he do services so great that such a reward will not overpay
them. Your claims on the Republic's gratitude are as yet but
trifling; an opportunity now offers of rendering as an essential
service. The murderer of Conari, Manfrone, and Lomellino--go, bring
him hither! Alive or dead, thou must bring to this palace the
terrible banditti-king, ABELLINO!"
At this unexpected conclusion of a speech on which his happiness or
despair depended, Flodoardo started back. The colour fled from his
cheeks.