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Updated: May 4, 2025
"Have we not here the cave, from which, invoked by fire, the storm and the hurricane, the north wind and the tempest, come forth and shatter the most stately vessels against our iron-bound coast. Up, Uzcoques, and fire the cavern! Let the elements do battle for us. Perchance by their aid the bark of your leader Dansowich may yet escape its foes and reach the haven."
Their object was the same which they had already attempted to carry out in Venice on the day of the Bridge Fight; namely, to seize upon some Venetian magistrate or person of importance whom they might exchange for Dansowich.
"But," she continued, "'tis time you should have full proof that the features you painted were not those of the wife of Dansowich." With these words she threw back her veil, unfastened some small hooks concealed in her abundant tresses, and took off a mask of thin and untanned lambskin, wrinkled and stained with yellow and purple streaks by exposure to sun and storm.
But the atonement has come too late, the noble Dansowich was basely ensnared into an act of violence, and his life paid the forfeit of his wrath he died upon the rack. And now the wily counsellors at Gradiska compel us to release you." She paused, interrupted by a flood of tears. After a short silence, broken only by her sobs, she became more composed, and the Proveditore again addressed her.
The time chosen by the Uzcoques for their expeditions and surprises was usually the night; and this, added to the custom of mask-wearing, was the cause that the features of Dansowich were unknown to his captors.
Again, I say Reflect! or rather hesitate not, but decide at once between a prosperous and honourable life, and a death of degradation and anguish." Neither the threats nor the temptations held out by the Proveditore seemed to have the smallest effect upon the Uzcoque. "You are mistaken," replied he calmly. "I am not Dansowich, nor have I any knowledge of the intrigues at Gradiska.
She paused, and at that moment was heard the rush of a rapidly approaching boat. "Speak not, ye messengers of evil!" exclaimed Strasolda in piercing accents. "Utter not a word. You have left Dansowich in the hands of the Venetians."
"But what," said he, "could have driven Dansowich to an act of violence, which he must have known would entail a severe punishment? Surely his wife's safety and the lapse of years might have enabled him to forgive, if not to forget, the unsuccessful attempt upon her life." "His wife's safety!" exclaimed the old woman. "Have the trials and fatigues of the last few days turned your brain?
This was to seize upon the person of a Venetian of note, in order to exchange him for the Uzcoques then languishing in the dungeons of the republic. The Venetians were not yet aware that the much-dreaded woivode Dansowich was among their prisoners.
Cursing in the bitterness of his heart, not only Turks, Austrians, and Venetians, but all mankind, he no longer opposed the piratical tendencies of his neglected people, and eventually headed many of their marauding expeditions. It was nearly midnight when Dansowich was awakened from a deep but troubled slumber by a grating noise at the door of his dungeon.
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