"You need add no more," interrupted Matilda: "kind, excellent Zastrozzi, I thank thee; but yet do say how you destroyed her—tell me by what racking, horrible torments you launched her soul into eternity. Did she perish by the dagger's point? or did the torments of poison send her, writhing in agony, to the tomb?"
"Yes," replied Zastrozzi; "she fell at my feet, overpowered by resistless convulsions. Who more ready than myself to restore the Marchesa's fleeted senses—who more ready than myself to account for her fainting, by observing, that the heat of the assembly had momentarily overpowered her? But Julia's senses were fled for ever; and it was not until the swiftest gondola in Venice had borne me far towards your castella, that il consiglio di dieci searched for, without discovering the offender.
"Here I must remain; for, were I discovered, the fatal consequences to us both are obvious. Farewell for the present," added he; "meanwhile, happiness attend you; but go not to Venice."
"Where have you been so late, my love?" tenderly inquired Verezzi as she returned. "I fear lest the night air, particularly that of so damp an evening as this, might affect your health."
"No, no, my dearest Verezzi, it has not," hesitatingly answered Matilda.
"You seem pensive, you seem melancholy, my Matilda," said Verezzi; "lay open your heart to me. I am afraid something, of which I am ignorant, presses upon your bosom. Is it the solitude of this remote castella which represses the natural gaiety of your soul? Shall we go to Venice?"
"Oh! no, no!" hastily and eagerly interrupted Matilda: "not to Venice—we must not go to Venice."
Verezzi was slightly surprised, but imputing her manner to indisposition, it passed off.
