extraordinary language for a----"

"Bravo; speak the word boldly, Signore--it is no stranger to my ears.
But even the stiletto of a Bravo is honorable, compared to that sword of
pretended justice which St. Mark wields! The commonest hireling of
Italy--he who will plant his dagger in the heart of his friend for two
sequins, is a man of open dealing, compared to the merciless treachery
of some in yonder town!"

"I understand thee, Jacopo; thou art, at length, proscribed. The public
voice, faint as it is in the Republic, has finally reached the ears of
thy employers, and they withdraw their protection."

Jacopo regarded the noble, for an instant, with an expression so
ambiguous, as to cause the latter insensibly to raise the point of his
rapier, but when he answered it was with his ordinary quiet.

"Signor Duca," he said, "I have been thought worthy to be retained by
Don Camillo Monforte!"

"I deny it not--and now that thou recallest the occasion, new light
breaks in upon me. Villain, to thy faithlessness I owe the loss of my
bride!"

Though the rapier was at the very throat of Jacopo, he did not flinch.
Gazing at his excited companion, he laughed in a smothered manner, but
bitterly.

"It would seem that the Lord of Sant' Agata wishes to rob me of my
trade," he said. "Arise, ye Israelites, and bear witness, lest men
doubt the fact! A common bravo of the canals is waylaid, among your
despised graves, by the proudest Signor of Calabria! You have chosen
your spot in mercy, Don Camillo, for sooner or later this crumbling and
sea-worn earth is to receive me. Were I to die at the altar itself, with
the most penitent prayer of holy church on my lips, the bigots would
send my body to rest among these hungry Hebrews and accursed heretics.
Yes, I am a man proscribed, and unfit to sleep with the faithful!"

His companion spoke with so strange a mixture of irony and melancholy,
that the purpose of Don Camillo wavered. But remembering his loss, he
shook the rapier's point, and continued:--

"Thy taunts and effrontery will not avail thee, knave," he cried. "Thou
knowest that I would have engaged thee as the leader of a chosen band,
to favor the flight of one dear from Venice."

"Nothing more true, Signore."

"And thou didst refuse the service?"

"Noble duke, I did."

"Not content with this, having learned the particulars of my project,
thou sold the secret to the Senate?"

"Don Camillo Monforte, I did not. My engageme