“Proceed,” was the rejoinder, as the grasp was removed from his arms, and the light of a dark lantern was thrown along the narrow stone passage in which Lewis now found himself. Having traversed this, a second door opened at his approach, a rush of cold air streamed upon him, and he found himself in a large dimly-lighted chamber, in which were assembled somewhere about thirty persons, who were gathered round a long table, at the upper end of which stood a man, who, with his arm extended, and his whole bearing indicative of strong excitement, was addressing the meeting. Drawing the collar of his cloak more over his face, and choosing a spot where the shadow of one of the heavy columns which supported the roof served in some measure to conceal him, Lewis joined the group. As he did so, the speaker, glancing with flashing eyes round the assembly, exclaimed—
“We are resolved, then—the cup is full to overflowing—we will bow no longer beneath the yoke of foreign tyrants. Our brethren in Milan have set us a glorious example—the accursed Austrian already trembles before their valour. Italy has shaken off her lethargy;—we have only to be true to ourselves and to the glorious cause, and liberty awaits our efforts.”
A subdued murmur of consent and approbation ran through the assembly, and the speaker continued—
“Thus agreed, then, it only remains for us to act, and our first duty is to succour those who have suffered for our sakes. Those heroes, those martyrs to the cause of the Venetian people, Daniel Manin and Niccolo Tommaseo, languish in an unjust imprisonment; we will demand their liberation, and that with a voice that shall force the tyrants to listen—the voice of an awakened and indignant nation.”
As the speaker ceased, amidst a subdued buzz of approbation, a man in the dress of an artisan arose, and rolling his fierce blood-shot eyes around the assembly, exclaimed—
“Yes, brothers, we will liberate our brave compatriots—Manin and Tommaseo shall be set free to aid in the struggle for our liberty; but we must do more, Venice must rise and cast out those foreign butchers. A blow must be dealt which shall strike terror into their coward hearts; a blow which shall prove to them the fate they may expect, if they dare to oppress and withstand a people struggling for their freedom. And on whom can it so justly fall as on the arch-tyrant, sold hand and soul to Austria, thirsting only for vengeance and for murder—the base persecutor Marinovich?”
He paused; there was a moment’s silence, and then a low whisper went round the assembly, “Death to Marinovich!” There was again a pause, and then men began to communicate with one another in deep muttered tones. After a short interval the first speaker, who had been writing rapidly, arose, and again addressing them, said—
“We are, then, agreed; and our first act shall be the liberation of Manin and Tommaseo. It is time that we disperse as silently and cautiously as may be; we must creep now that we may soar hereafter.”
In order not to interrupt the thread of our narrative, we have described the proceedings as they occurred—we must now revert to Lewis. During the delivery of the first speech he observed that the man who had addressed him as he entered, and who appeared a tall, muscular young fellow, had contrived to place himself by his side, and was regarding him from time to time with looks of mistrust and suspicion. At the proposal for the assassination of Colonel Marinovich, the commandant at the Arsenal, a man who, though a strict disciplinarian, Lewis knew by report to be a brave and gallant officer, he had been unable to repress some slight sign of disapprobation. As he did so he perceived a scowl pass across the features of his watcher, who took the opportunity of drawing yet nearer to him, while an accidental movement revealed the unpleasant fact that he held in his hand a naked stiletto. As the president ended his final address, Lewis, who had kept his eye fixed on the features of his dangerous neighbour, felt convinced that the man only awaited the termination of the business proceedings to denounce him to his fellow-conspirators. With his usual coolness and decision in moments of danger, Lewis saw that his only chance of safety lay in taking the initiative; accordingly, catching the man’s eye, he fixed on him a piercing glance, as he said in a stern whisper—
“The first word you utter aloud you are a dead man;” at the same moment he presented the muzzle of a pistol within an inch of his ear. The man started slightly and attempted to increase the distance between them, but Lewis laid an iron grasp on his collar and detained him; having stood for a moment irresolute, he said, in the same low whisper in which Lewis had addressed him—