“Name what sum will satisfy you, and it shall be yours this instant, so you will only relieve Venice from your presence. Though it should cost the Republic a million she will be a gainer, if her air is no longer poisoned by your breath.”
“Indeed! Why, in fact, a million is not so great a sum; for look you, Andreas, I have just sold for near half a million the lives of your two dear friends, Manfrone and Lomellino. Now give me Rosabella, and I break the bargain.”
“Miscreant! Has Heaven no lightnings?”
“You will not? Mark me! In four-and-twenty hours shall Manfrone and Lomellino be food for fishes. Abellino has said it. Away!”
And with these words he drew a pistol from under his cloak, and flashed it in the Doge’s face. Blinded by the powder, and confused by the unexpected explosion, Andreas started back, and sunk bewildered on a neighbouring sofa. He soon recovered from his astonishment. He sprang from his seat to summon his guards and seize Abellino; but Abellino had already disappeared.
On that same evening were Parozzi and his confederates assembled in the palace of the Cardinal Gonzaga. The table was spread with the most luxurious profusion, and they arranged over their flowing goblets plans for the Republic’s ruin. The Cardinal related how he had of late contrived to insinuate himself into the Doge’s good graces, and had succeeded in impressing him with an opinion that the chiefs of the confederacy were fit men to hold offices of important trust. Contarino boasted that he doubted not before long to be appointed to the vacant procuratorship. Parozzi reckoned for his share upon Rosabella’s hand, and the place either of Lomellino or Manfrone, when once those two chief obstacles to his hope should be removed. Such was the conversation in which they were engaged, when the clock struck twelve, the doors flew wide, and Abellino stood before them.
“Wine, there!” cried he; “the work is done. Manfrone and Lomellino are at supper with the worms. And I have thrown the Doge himself into such a fit of terror that I warrant he will not recover himself easily. Now answer are you content with me, you bloodhounds?”
“Next, then, for Flodoardo!” shouted Parozzi.
“Flodoardo!” muttered Abellino between his teeth; “hum—hum—that’s not so easy.”