One night, on which a council was not held, Orsino came in great
agitation of spirits, and dispatched his confidential servant to
Montoni, who was at a Casino, desiring that he would return home
immediately; but charging the servant not to mention his name. Montoni
obeyed the summons, and, on meeting Orsino, was informed of the
circumstances, that occasioned his visit and his visible alarm, with a
part of which he was already acquainted.
A Venetian nobleman, who had, on some late occasion, provoked the hatred
of Orsino, had been way-laid and poniarded by hired assassins: and, as
the murdered person was of the first connections, the Senate had
taken up the affair. One of the assassins was now apprehended, who had
confessed, that Orsino was his employer in the atrocious deed; and the
latter, informed of his danger, had now come to Montoni to consult on
the measures necessary to favour his escape. He knew, that, at this
time, the officers of the police were upon the watch for him, all over
the city; to leave it, at present, therefore, was impracticable, and
Montoni consented to secrete him for a few days till the vigilance of
justice should relax, and then to assist him in quitting Venice. He knew
the danger he himself incurred by permitting Orsino to remain in his
house, but such was the nature of his obligations to this man, that he
did not think it prudent to refuse him an asylum.
Such was the person whom Montoni had admitted to his confidence, and for
whom he felt as much friendship as was compatible with his character.
While Orsino remained concealed in his house, Montoni was unwilling to
attract public observation by the nuptials of Count Morano; but this
obstacle was, in a few days, overcome by the departure of his criminal
visitor, and he then informed Emily, that her marriage was to be
celebrated on the following morning. To her repeated assurances, that
it should not take place, he replied only by a malignant smile; and,
telling her that the Count and a priest would be at his house, early
in the morning, he advised her no further to dare his resentment, by
opposition to his will and to her own interest. 'I am now going out for
the evening,' said he, 'remember, that I shall give your hand to Count
Morano in the morning.' Emily, having, ever since his late threats,
expected, that her trials would at length arrive to this crisis, was
less shocked by the declaration, that she otherwise would have been,
and she endeavoured to support herself by the belief, that the marriage
could not be valid, so long as she refused before the priest to repeat
any part of the ceremony. Yet, as the moment of trial approached, her
long-harassed spirits shrunk almost equally from the encounter of his
vengeance, and from the hand of Count Morano. She was not even perfectly
certain of the consequence of her steady refusal at the altar, and
she trembled, more than ever, at the power of Montoni, which seemed
unlimited as his will, for she saw, that he would not scruple to
transgress any law, if, by so doing, he could accomplish his project.