Thus far the story had been told much to Rosabella's credit; but at
length the women began to envy her for her share in the adventure.
The kiss which she had received from the bravo afforded them an
excellent opportunity for throwing out a few malicious insinuations.
"She received a great service," said one, "and there's no saying how
far the fair Rosabella in the warmth of gratitude may have been
carried in rewarding her preserver." "Very true," observed another,
"and for my part, I think it not very likely that the fellow, being
alone with a pretty girl, whose life he had just saved, should have
gone away contented with a single kiss." "Come, come," interrupted
a third, "do not let us judge uncharitably; the fact may be exactly
as the lady relates it, though I MUST say, that gentlemen of
Abellino's profession are not usually so pretty-behaved, and that
this is the first time I ever heard of a bravo in the Platonics."
In short, Rosabella and the horrible Abellino furnished the indolent
and gossiping Venetians with conversation so long, that at length
the Doge's niece was universally known by the honourable appellation
of the "Bravo's Bride."
But no one gave himself more trouble about this affair than the
Doge, the good but proud Andreas. He immediately issued orders that
every person of suspicious appearance should be watched more closely
than ever, the night patrols were doubled, and spies were employed
daily in procuring intelligence of Abellino; and yet all was in
vain. Abellino's retreat was inscrutable.