nded--wounded
severely, but not mortally by the man whom he has slain. At this
moment he received a blow from the axe of one of the brothers of
Barbaro. He had strength left barely to behold and to shout his
victory, when he sunk fainting upon the deck of the pirate vessel. His
further care devolved upon his friend, Nicolo, who had followed his
footsteps closely through all the paths of danger. In a state of
stupor he lies upon the couch of Nicolo, when the aged prophetess, the
"Spanish Gipsy," appeared beside his bed.

"He is called," she said. "The Doge demands his presence. They will
bestow upon him his bride, Francesca Ziani. You must bear him
thither."

The surgeon shook his head.

"It may arouse him," said Nicolo. "We can bear him thither on a
litter, so that he shall feel no pain."

"It were something to wake him from this apathy," mused the surgeon.
"Be it as thou wilt."

Thus, grievously wounded, was the noble Giovanni borne into the midst
of the assembly for each member of which he had suffered and done so
much. The soft music which played around, awakened him. His eyes
unclosed to discover the lovely Francesca, tearful, but hopeful,
bending fondly over him. She declared herself his. The voice of the
Doge confirmed the assurance; and the eye of the dying man brightened
into the life of a new and delightful consciousness. Eagerly he spoke;
his voice was but a whisper.

"Make it so, I pray thee, that I may live!"

The priest drew nigh with the sacred unction. The marriage service was
performed, and the hands of the two were clasped in one.

"Said I not?" demanded an aged woman, who approached the moment after
the ceremonial, and whose face was beheld by none but him whom she
addressed. "She is thine!"

The youth smiled, but made no answer. His hand drew that of Francesca
closer. She stooped to his kiss, and whispered him, but he heard her
not. With the consciousness of the sweet treasure that he had won
after such sad denial, the sense grew conscious no longer--the lips of
the youth were sealed for ever. The young Giovanni, the bravest of
the Venetian youth, lay lifeless in the embrace of the scarcely more
living Francesca. It was a sad day, after all, in Venice, since its
triumph was followed by so great a loss; but the damsels of the ocean
city still declare that the lovers were much more blest in this
fortune, than had they survived for the embrace of others less
beloved.

[The touching and rom