"This temerity will undo him! His claim will be refused--himself banished. Is it not near the hour when the gondola of the police passes? Admonish him to depart, good Florinda--and yet can we use this rudeness to a Signor of his rank!" "Father, counsel us; you know the hazards of this rash gallantry in the Neapolitan--aid us with thy wisdom, for there is not a moment to lose." The Carmelite had been an attentive and an indulgent observer of the emotion which sensations so novel had awakened in the ardent but unpractised breast of the fair Venetian. Pity, sorrow, and sympathy, were painted on his mortified face, as he witnessed the mastery of feeling over a mind so guileless, and a heart so warm; but the look was rather that of one who knew the dangers of the passions, than of one who condemned them without thought of their origin or power. At the appeal of the governess he turned away and silently quitted the room. Donna Florinda left the balcony and drew near her charge. There was no explanation, nor any audible or visible means of making their sentiments known to each other. Violetta threw herself into the arms of her more experienced friend, and struggled to conceal her face in her bosom. At this moment the music suddenly ceased, and the plash of oars falling into the water succeeded. "He is gone!" exclaimed the young creature who had been the object of the serenade, and whose faculties, spite of her confusion, had lost none of their acuteness. "The gondolas are moving away, and we have not made even the customary acknowledgments for their civility!" "It is not needed--or rather it might increase a hazard that is already too weighty. Remember thy high destiny, my child, and let them depart." "And yet methinks one of my station should not fail in courtesy. The compliment may mean no more than any other idle usage, and they should not quit us unthanked." "Rest you within. I will watch the movement of the boats, for it surpasseth female endurance not to note their aspect." "Thanks, dearest Florinda! hasten, lest they enter the other canal ere thou seest them." The governess was quickly in the balcony. Active as was her movement, her eyes were scarcely cast upon the shadow beneath, before a hurried question demanded what she beheld. "Both gondolas are gone," was the answer; "that with the musicians is already entering the great canal, but that of the cavalier hath unaccountably disappeared!" "Nay, look again; he cannot be in such haste to quit us." "I had not sought him in the right direction. Here is his gondola, by the bridge of our own canal." "And the cavalier? He waits for some sign of courtesy; it is meet that we should not withhold it." "I see him not. His servitor is seated on the steps of the landing, while the gondola appeareth to be empty. The man hath an air of waiting, but I nowhere see the master!" "Blessed Maria! can aught have befallen the gallant Duca di Sant' Agata?"