The spacious canal was crowded with gondolas; merriment and splendour reigned around; enchanting harmony stole over the scene; but, listless of the music, heeding not the splendour, Matilda sat lost in a maze of thought. Fiercest vengeance revelled through her bosom, and, in her own mind, she resolved a horrible purpose. Meanwhile, the hour was late, the moon had gained the zenith, and poured her beams vertically on the unruffled Adriatic, when the gondola stopped before Matilda’s mansion. A sumptuous supper had been prepared for their return. Silently Matilda entered--silently Verezzi followed. Without speaking, Matilda seated herself at the supper-table; Verezzi, with an air of listlessness, threw himself into a chair beside her. For a time neither spoke. “You are not well to-night,” at last stammered out Verezzi: “what has disturbed you?” “Disturbed me!” repeated Matilda: “why do you suppose that any thing has disturbed me?” A more violent paroxysm of horror seemed now to seize Verezzi’s brain. He pressed his hand to his burning forehead--the agony of his mind was too great to be concealed--Julia’s form, as he had last seen her, floated in his fancy, and, overpowered by the resistlessly horrible ideas which pressed upon them, his senses failed him: he faintly uttered Julia’s name--he sank forward, and his throbbing temples reclined on the table. “Arise! awake! prostrate, perjured Verezzi, awake!” exclaimed the infuriate Matilda, in a tone of gloomy horror. Verezzi started up, and gazed with surprise upon the countenance of Matilda, which, convulsed by passion, flashed desperation and revenge. “’Tis plain,” said Matilda, gloomily, “’tis plain, he loves me not.” A confusion of contending emotions battled in Verezzi’s bosom: his marriage vow--his faith plighted to Matilda--convulsed his soul with indescribable agony. Still did she possess a great empire over his soul--still was her frown terrible--and still did the hapless Verezzi tremble at the tones of her voice, as, in a frenzy of desperate passion, she bade him quit her for ever: “And,” added she, “go, disclose the retreat of the outcast Matilda to her enemies; deliver me to the inquisition, that a union with her you detest may fetter you no longer.” Exhausted by breathless agitation, Matilda ceased: the passions of her soul flashed from her eyes; ten thousand conflicting emotions battled in Verezzi’s bosom: he knew scarce what to do; but, yielding to the impulse of the moment, he cast himself at Matilda’s feet, and groaned deeply. At last the words, “I am ever yours, I ever shall be yours,” escaped his lips.