The sickness of the stomach which I had so long laboured under now ceased, the pains of the head also left me, and I felt an extraordinary appetite. My digestion was good, and I gained strength. Wonderful providence! that deprived me of my health to humble my mind, and again restored it when the moment was at hand that I should require it all, that I might not sink under the weight of my sentence.

On the 24th of November, one of our companions, Dr. Foresti, was taken from the Piombi, and transported no one knew whither. The jailer, his wife, and the assistants, were alike alarmed, and not one of them ventured to throw the least light upon this mysterious affair.

“And why should you persist,” said Tremerello, “in wishing to know, when nothing good is to be heard? I have told you too much—too much already.”

“Then what is the use of trying to hide it? I know it too well. He is condemned to death.”

“Who? . . . he . . . Doctor Foresti?”

Tremerello hesitated, but the love of gossip was not the least of his virtues.

“Don’t say, then,” he resumed, “that I am a babbler; I never wished to say a word about these matters; so, remember, it is you who compel me.”

“Yes, yes, I do compel you; but courage! tell me every thing you know respecting the poor Doctor?”

“Ah, Sir! they have made him cross the Bridge of Sighs! he lies in the dungeons of the condemned; sentence of death has been announced to him and two others.”

“And will it be executed? When? Oh, unhappy man! and what are the others’ names?”

“I know no more. The sentences have not been published. It is reported in Venice that they will be commuted. I trust in God they may, at least, as regards the good Doctor. Do you know, I am as fond of that noble fellow, pardon the expression, as if he were my own brother.”

He seemed moved, and walked away. Imagine the agitation I suffered throughout the whole of that day, and indeed long after, as there were no means of ascertaining anything further respecting the fate of these unfortunate men.

A month elapsed, and at length the sentences connected with the first trial were published. Nine were condemned to death, graciously exchanged for hard imprisonment, some for twenty, and others for fifteen years in the fortress of Spielberg, near the city of Brunn, in Moravia; while those for ten years and under were to be sent to the fortress of Lubiana.

Were we authorised to conclude, from this commutation of sentence in regard to those first condemned, that the parties subject to the second trial would likewise be spared? Was the indulgence to be confined only to the former, on account of their having been arrested previous to the publication of the edicts against secret societies; the full vengeance of the law being reserved for subsequent offenders?

Well, I exclaimed, we shall not long be kept in suspense; I am at least grateful to Heaven for being allowed time to prepare myself in a becoming manner for the final scene.