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Updated: June 27, 2025
The difficulty was not to procure the five hundred ducats; a Banker in a neighbouring town had had such a sum in his hands for the last six months at Fabio's disposition. But to travel from the coast of Dalmatia to Venice in four-and-twenty hours, with a broken sea and contrary winds, was a thing beyond all hope. "Let us have the money ready to begin with," said Fabio.
"But Muzio cannot have returned from the town, surely," flashed through Fabio's head, and he darted into the pavilion.... What did he behold?
It is the talk of the whole city." Still Nanina made no answer. To have replied truthfully, she must have confessed that "the talk of the whole city" had now no interest for her. The last news from Pisa that had appealed to her sympathies was the news of the Countess d'Ascoli's death, and of Fabio's departure to travel in foreign countries. Since then she had heard nothing more of him.
The seventh section solemnly averred that the sole object of the conspiracy was to prevent the young nobleman from marrying again, by working on his superstitious fears; the writer repeating, after this avowal, that any such second marriage would necessarily destroy his project for promoting the ultimate restoration of the Church possessions, by diverting Count Fabio's property, in great part, from his first wife's child, over whom the priest would always have influence, to another wife and probably other children, over whom he could hope to have none.
"You are not sorry?" I inquired, with an air of pretended surprise. "Sorry? Not at all! Why should I be? He was a very agreeable friend while my husband was alive to keep him in order, but after my poor Fabio's death, his treatment of me was quite unbearable." Take care, beautiful hypocrite! take care!
'But Muzzio has not come back from the town, flashed through Fabio's head, and he rushed to the pavilion.... What did he see?
I need not have asked about her if I had thought a moment beforehand. Father Rocco would be sure to keep her out of Fabio's sight, for his niece's sake." "What, he really loved that 'thread-paper of a girl' as you called her?" "Better than fifty such wives as he has got now! I was in the studio the morning he was told of her departure from Pisa.
He stole round to this door, found it unlocked, and, parting the folds of a heavy curtain, turned a faltering glance upon the room within. Muzzio was not now lying on the rug. Dressed as though for a journey, he sat in an arm-chair, but seemed a corpse, just as on Fabio's first visit. His torpid head fell back on the chair, and his outstretched hands hung lifeless, yellow, and rigid on his knees.
Fabio started up, and his friend followed his example. Again the gleaming black eyes rested steadily on the young nobleman's face, and again their look chilled him to the heart. "Yellow Lady, do you know my friend?" exclaimed D'Arbino, with mock solemnity. There was no answer. The fatal eyes never moved from Fabio's face. "Yellow Lady," continued the other, "listen to the music.
To Fabio's questions she replied that she desired to alleviate by confession her soul, which was oppressed with the impressions of the last few days.
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