“It is nothing,” was the reply; “I have fasted long; it will pass away in a moment;” but as he spoke he sank heavily into a chair which stood beside him.
Lewis produced from a cupboard food and wine, and placing them before him, induced him to partake of some refreshment, and soon had the satisfaction of seeing the light return to his eye and the colour to his cheek. Lewis then filled for himself a glass of wine, replenished that of his companion, and seating himself, hastened to relate to Miles Hardy the strange train of events by means of which he had become acquainted with so large a portion of the young man’s history. The feelings with which Miles Hardy listened to the account of his unhappy father’s career, and the mingled grief and anger with which he heard how the heritage of his mother’s shame had descended to his unfortunate sister, may easily be imagined. Lewis strove with an amount of patient kindness, for which those who knew only the fiery side of his character would scarcely have given him credit, to soothe the passionate emotions which his tale excited in an auditor so deeply interested in the fortunes of those to whom it related. After long perseverance his efforts were in some degree crowned with success—Miles became more calm, and agreed with Lewis that his first duty was to seek for, and endeavour to reclaim, his sister. His share of the legacy would furnish him with funds sufficient to enable him to live without the necessity of daily labour, and until his right to the money should be established, Lewis insisted on becoming his banker. The next question was not so easily arranged: Lewis informed Miles that in regard to the events of the evening he had arrived at the following determination—viz., to call on Colonel Marinovich, make him acquainted with the plot against his life, beg him to inform his superiors that such a conspiracy was on foot, and explain the manner in which he had become aware of its existence; but as far as Miles was concerned in the affair, he would promise to preserve a total silence, on one condition—namely, that he, Miles, should withdraw from the conspiracy and engage to keep the peace in regard to the commandant of the Arsenal. To this proposition the young man demurred.
“What,” he said, “give up my just revenge!—submit to undeserved chastisement like a beaten hound, and leave it to less tame and slavish spirits to punish the tyrant for his cruelty!—allow them to meet the danger and divide the glory while I stand by inactive! Never!”
“Believe me, Miles,” returned Lewis earnestly, “revenge, even just revenge, partakes of the nature of sin, and brings upon him who obtains it the curse of an upbraiding conscience. But yours is not a just revenge; you have suffered wrong, and the sense of this blinds your judgment. I know by report the character of this Marinovich; I know him to be a just and honourable man, though a stern disciplinarian. Great abuses had existed at the Arsenal, and it was in order to reform them that the command was bestowed on him. In your individual case he has acted unjustly, but in all probability appearances were strongly against you, and he had not sufficient personal acquaintance with you to know that amongst such inveterate liars as are the majority of the lower order of Venetians, your word might be relied on. His only fault is, therefore, that he committed an error in judgment, and would you on this account take a man’s life? Besides, conniving at assassination is a cowardly proceeding, unworthy any Englishman, and especially a brave young fellow like yourself.”
It was evident that Lewis’s reasoning was not without its effect on him whom he addressed, for his brow contracted, his fingers closed and relaxed, his mouth quivered convulsively, and his whole demeanour was that of a person struggling against some powerful temptation. At length he exclaimed abruptly—
“I know not how it is, you sway me like a child. I had resolved not to rest till that man was dead, but I never before saw the matter in the light in which you have now placed it. I believed that his death would be an act of justice, and considered that, in order to obtain justice, we must take the law into our own hands—but I feel the truth of what you say, that assassination is cowardly; I felt it when Jacopo was dogging your footsteps, and but for the cause that was at stake, could have found in my heart to warn you.”
“Then you will agree to my proposal?” inquired Lewis.
“Yes, I will agree to withdraw from the conspiracy, but it is at the risk of my life that I do so; if I am found in Venice after my desertion is known, I am a dead man. Moreover, I will promise you to abstain from secretly attempting Marinovich’s life; but if I should ever meet him face to face and hand to hand, I will teach him to remember having flogged an Englishman.”
Lewis felt that in his new character of Mentor he ought to combat this openly declared resolution, but he abstained from doing so, partly because he felt it would be useless, and partly because he sympathised so completely in the sentiment, that he could not muster sufficient hypocrisy to reprove it. Accordingly he remained satisfied with the concession he had gained, and furnishing Miles with all the information he possessed in regard to his sister, which was but vague and unsatisfactory (a rumour that she had passed some time in Rome on her first arrival in that country being the only trace he had yet been able to discover of her proceedings), Lewis gave him an introduction to an agent whom he had employed to gain further tidings, and forcing a sum of money upon him more than sufficient to defray his expenses, hastened his departure ere the brilliant rays of an Italian sun had spread the lustre of the coming day throughout the picturesque old streets and palace-crowned squares of Venice.
On the following morning Lewis fulfilled his intention of calling on Colonel Marinovich, who heard his recital in silence, and when he had concluded, thanked him for his information, said he was aware great disaffection existed amongst the men employed at the Arsenal, and that energetic measures must be taken to prevent its spreading further, promised to report the discovery of the secret meeting to the Governor, took down Lewis’s address, and politely bowed him out.