veil, or else a punishment should be dealt out proportioned to the
affront. And without delay, as a proof of the energy wherewith the noble
tribunal would take action in the affair, Luigi Manenti, secretary to
the Ten, was sent to Imola, where the duke was reported to be, that he
might explain to him the great displeasure with which the most serene
republic viewed the outrage perpetrated upon their candottiere. At
the same time the Council of Ten and the doge sought out the French
ambassador, entreating him to join with them and repair in person with
Manenti to the Duke of Valentinois, and summon him, in the name of King
Louis XII, immediately to send back to Venice the lady he had carried
off.

The two messengers arrived at Imola, where they found Caesar, who
listened to their complaint with every mark of utter astonishment,
denying that he had been in any way connected with the crime, nay,
authorising Manenti and the French ambassador to pursue the culprits and
promising that he would himself have the most active search carried on.
The duke appeared to act in such complete good faith that the envoys
were for the moment hoodwinked, and themselves undertook a search of
the most careful nature. They accordingly repaired to the exact spot and
began to procure information. On the highroad there had been found dead
and wounded. A man had been seen going by at a gallop, carrying a woman
in distress on his saddle; he had soon left the beaten track and plunged
across country. A peasant coming home from working in the fields had
seen him appear and vanish again like a shadow, taking the direction of
a lonely house. An old woman declared that she had seen him go into this
house. But the next night the house was gone, as though by enchantment,
and the ploughshare had passed over where it stood; so that none could
say, what had become of her whom they sought, far those who had dwelt in
the house, and even the house itself, were there no longer.

Manenti and the French ambassador returned to Venice, and related what
the duke had said, what they had done, and how all search had been in
vain. No one doubted that Caesar was the culprit, but no one could prove
it. So the most serene republic, which could not, considering their war
with the Turks, be embroiled with the pope, forbade Caracciuala to take
any sort of private vengeance, and so the talk grew gradually less, and
at last the occurrence was no more mentioned.

But the pleas