r station
in his own land. These scruples gave way to the strength of his affection
for his daughter and his dread of his foe. Good men, however able and
brave, who have suffered from the wicked, are apt to form exaggerated
notions of the power that has prevailed against them. Jackeymo had
conceived a superstitious terror of Peschiera, and Riccabocca, though by
no means addicted to superstition, still had a certain creep of the flesh
whenever he thought of his foe.

But Riccabocca--than whom no man was more physically brave, and no man, in
some respects, more morally timid--feared the Count less as a foe than as a
gallant. He remembered his kinsman's surpassing beauty--the power he had
obtained over women. He knew him versed in every art that corrupts, and
void of all the conscience that deters. And Riccabocca had unhappily
nursed himself into so poor an estimate of the female character, that even
the pure and lofty nature of Violante did not seem to him a sufficient
safeguard against the craft and determination of a practiced and
remorseless intriguer. But of all the precautions he could take, none
appeared more likely to conduce to safety, than his establishing a
friendly communication with one who professed to be able to get at all the
Count's plans and movements, and who could apprise Riccabocca at once
should his retreat be discovered. "Forewarned is forearmed," said he to
himself, in one of the proverbs common to all nations. However, as with
his usual sagacity he came to reflect upon the alarming intelligence
conveyed to him by Randal, viz., that the Count sought his daughter's
hand, he divined that there was some strong personal interest under such
ambition; and what could be that interest save the probability of
Riccabocca's ultimate admission to the Imperial grace, and the Count's
desire to assure himself of the heritage to an estate that he might be
permitted to retain no more? Riccabocca was not indeed aware of the
condition (not according to usual customs in Austria) on which the Count
held the forfeited domains. He knew not that they had been granted merely
on pleasure; but he was too well aware of Peschiera's nature to suppose
that he would woo a bride without a dower, or be moved by remorse in any
overture of reconciliation. He felt assured, too--and this increased all
his fears--that Peschiera would never venture to seek an interview himself;
all the Count's designs on Violante would be dark, secret, and