"Eccellentissimi," the messenger explained to the horror-stricken
questioners, "they were five,--rushing out from the dark of the convent
wall against him when he came alone down the steps of the Ponte della
Pugna,--the villains held the others down. And Fra Paolo lay dead on the
Fondamenta--stabbed in many places, as if one would cut him in bits--and
the stiletto still in his forehead! And they sent me----"
"'Alone'? you ask me, Illustrissimi?--Santissima Vergine! the whole city
pouring in to the cries of those that found him; and the murderers off
before one could touch them, and never a guard near! They carried him
into the Servi.--And the people--furious--are storming the palazzo of
the nuncio as I pass; and some one cries that the envoy is off to the
Lido, with his fine friends, who start for Rome. A thousand devils!--May
the good San Nicolo send them to feed the fishes!"
The Senate, to testify its honor, grief, and sympathy for the beloved
Counsellor, had instantly adjourned, and its members repaired in great
numbers to the convent to make personal inquiries, returning to a new
session prolonged through the night; for Fra Paolo, who had fainted from
loss of blood on his pallet in the Servite cell, had recovered
consciousness and hovered between life and death--his humble bed
attended by the most famous physicians and surgeons whom the Republic
could summon to her aid.
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