CHAPTER ELEVEN
In the meantime, Adelaide, still not daring to return to Saxony where her love and her duty called her, thought that she should at least amuse herself in this city which seemed to offer all the necessary things to calm the nerves. Bianchi took her to all the best houses and introduced her under her pseudonym as she wished.
In a society where men were so galant, it was natural that she should attract much attention with such a beautiful face and such a striking figure.
It is a fairly well known fact that Venice kept up her rank as one of the outstanding cities of olden times by the severity and mysterious nature of her government. Secrecy was the soul of government in those days and even when a state was just about to fall, it never appeared likely to outsiders.
Venice in the eleventh century was still in its infancy, but this principle of government was already an integral part of its success. It had already got the reputation for uncovering the many plots which were hatched there and of punishing the offenders without mercy. In those days society was divided into two parts, those supporting the government and those against it. It was not possible to go from one group to the other.
Adelaide had heard about this custom, and since she did not wish to associate with any of her countrymen, she soon became linked with one of the two factions. Since it was Bianchi who was introducing her to society, she naturally fell into his group. She was taken by Bianchi to the house of Senator Anthony Contarino, a nephew of the doge who was at that time reigning in the Republic of Venice.
This young man was not yet chained by the bonds of matrimony and was living with his mother, the sister of the doge. Witty and gifted by all the graces of nature, Anthony did not fail to make known to the princess the sentiments which she inspired in him, but which he kept within the narrow limits of the rules of decency. Adelaide, who felt the need of society, was far from suspecting the dangers of such a group, and since she wanted to remain in good standing, did not reject completely the homages of the young Contarino. She was persuaded that her experience with men in general and her love for the Marquis of Thuringia could safeguard her against anything dangerous with this young man. She thought of it as a little love game without any serious consequences.
In the midst of the simple and honest pleasures which this society offered, the princess was able to see that there were some more serious occupations which caused groups of people to gather at the senator's house in secret.
"Anthony," she said one day to the nephew of the doge, "if you want me to believe in the sincerity of your sentiments, you will have to give me your confidence. Tell me, who are these serious faced individuals who come to disturb our games? What are they doing here in your house?"
"I find it rather odd that such things interest you," answered Anthony. "I must confess, however, that I have found it more healthy not to know about such things. If, however, you insist on knowing what it is all about, I shall try to find out."
"If this secret is of great importance, then I am taking chances, it seems to me, by coming to the same place where they are having their meetings. As I don't want to get mixed up in all that, I think it is better for me not to know anything about it. I had better leave."
But Anthony, very much in love with Adelaide, tried to head her off.
"No, divine creature," he said to her holding her arm. "Do not leave me thus. If it is useful to your happiness to know our secret, I feel that it is even more necessary to my happiness to have your confidence. In telling you this secret I become a traitor to the others, and I do so only with the idea of attaching you to me for life. The fate of Venice is the prize offered for your affection. Let your heart be appreciated by you yourself, Milady, and see if it is worth the lives of my fellow citizens."
"The balance is too unequal, Sir," said Adelaide. "What you want is too far from what it is necessary to sacrifice and although you might esteem me worth the sacrifice, I am not of the same opinion. From this moment I must cease to see you. I would have sworn not to betray the man I love, but I cannot make any such promises for a man who does not mean anything to me when this revelation might interest the fate of a city which is today my refuge. However, you may be tranquil, Anthony. You will be neither betrayed nor loved. I will remain in the most complete indifference with respect to you and the secret which cannot be mine."
Anthony wanted to hold Adelaide back, but it was in vain. She hastily went to her gondola and went home before Contarino even had time to work out in his mind whether he had acted badly or not.
Scarcely had twenty-four hours passed when Anthony wanted to see the one he loved, and a dinner, which his mother was giving, furnished the occasion. Adelaide was invited and on leaving the table, the conversation of the day before was renewed between the two of them.
"You require one thing of me, Milady," said Anthony to Adelaide, "a thing on which depends the fate of the Republic and of my family. Before, I tried to make it somewhat an exchange arrangement in which you were going to give me certain rights and privileges. I realize the mistake of such a procedure and now I am asking you for nothing at all. I am going to tell you the secret and I feel that it is entirely safe with you."
"One moment, Anthony," interrupted Adelaide, "what I have said has not been understood by you. I said that I could not give you any right over me because I am not free to give any such privileges. That was why I said I could promise you nothing in exchange for the secret. I have said, however, that if you showed yourself worthy of my friendship by putting the trust in me, I would consider your secret as sacred. That is all I have promised and that is all I can do."
"If this secret concerned only me, Milady," said the young senator, "I would consider myself recompensed by the friendship of my family and of my country. You will see that this gives it a more serious nature."
"Yes, I admit that what you are giving me is more than what I am giving you. It is up to you to accept an unequal exchange."
"I am ready to tell you everything." Here the doors were closed carefully and Anthony took Adelaide to a corner of the room where he said to her in a whisper:
"It is a plot to overthrow the government. It is only right that in telling you the details that you become a member of the group and that you take the oath which they have already pronounced."
"I agree to that and you see, Anthony, that in doing so I am giving something in return for telling me the secret."
"If you betray us, we will all perish together. I am associating you with my death, and this idea frightens me. Thus you see, I am making the highest sacrifice for your friendship."
"You appreciate badly the sentiment which I have if you do not put it higher than friendship."
"But where will it take me?"
"Don't make me repeat what I said about being free. Come now, what is the oath which you want me to repeat?"
"To love me with the most tender love."
"You know I can't say anything like that," said Adelaide as she moved away with the thought that she would never come back to this house again.
"No," cried the senator holding her, "sign your name to this oath and I will tell you everything."
"I swear never to reveal what is going to be confided in me and to perform all things which are ordered me. I swear to make the sacrifice of my life if one can ever prove that I have betrayed those to whom I am linked."
"And now I am associated with the crime," said Adelaide a little troubled after putting down the pen with which she signed the name she used in Venice.
"No, it is not a crime, Milady, but the triumph of virtue. Our country is groaning under tyranny, and it is necessary to deliver it. My uncle, the doge, who is governing today, consents to taking the reins of government all by himself if the state can be rid of the oppressing members of the council who are the tyrants of the country. All of the members of the council will perish tomorrow, and it is on their ashes that my family will rise. Contarino, who begins the dynasty of the sovereign doges, will leave me the scepter after his death and I will offer it to you and you will reign with me."
"I do not wish to reign and I do not want to cause the flow of blood. I do not engage myself here to either of these things; but I will keep your secret, it will never be betrayed by me. I swear it to you again. I am sorry for the feeble and unpardonable curiosity which will repair this fault. That is all I promise."
"And what about this friendship so precious to me and so capable of rewarding me for all I lose?"
"I am giving it to you, but my dear Anthony, let me say that you are not really worthy of it."
"Why is that?"
"No matter how good or how bad a government may be, it is at the same time the work and the image of Heaven. No subject can overthrow it without being guilty of a crime. If he tries to do this, he outrages in the government which he attacks the authority which he should respect and the celestial power which surrounds it. And he who attacks, can he do so without destroying himself? And the men whom he sacrifices in changing the government, are they not as precious as his ambition and his caprices? Analyze the reason which causes any man to trouble the government under which he lives and you will see that he is acting only because of selfish interests. It is not the good of the people he has in mind, but his own advancement. Now I ask you to what point is a man guilty who causes the misfortune of others only in order to make himself happier. Who can say that the state of things which he wishes to substitute will be better than the one which he is destroying. How much greater will his wrongs be if he is mistaken."
"The republican state is evil," said the nephew of the doge.
"And what about the race of the rulers who will take its place, will it not also have its vices?"
"They are the vices of a single man; they are less to be feared than those of the people."
"That may be," answered Adelaide, "but that does not prevent me from saying to you that it is not up to us to decide which is the best type of government. We should only follow with docility the one which Heaven has caused to be created in Venice and respect the hands which hold the reins of government. When you do not respect this situation, you are wrong, and I shall never take part in such wrong doing. Anthony, I have promised to respect your secret, it will not be betrayed; but do not require me to go beyond that, I would be deceiving you in promising it."
At this moment several of the conspirators appeared.
"Let's separate," said Anthony, "remember your oaths and be here tomorrow before daybreak."
Adelaide left without answering and went to reflect on these matters with her faithful companion. She had the idea that it would be best to leave Venice immediately, but Bathilda advised her not to do that saying that anybody who fled would be considered to be guilty.
"If the things succeed," said this wise friend, "those who consider you to be one of their friends, fearing that you might reveal one day the secrets of their plan, will seek you out and destroy you. On the other hand, if the plan fails, your flight from the city will immediately put you in the camp with the traitors. I am afraid that your curiosity may get us into some serious trouble."
"I realize that I have made a blunder," said Adelaide. "It may be too late to do anything about it. What do you advise me to do?"
"Take your chances with the senator and go tomorrow as you have promised."
Adelaide got up early the next morning with the idea of carrying out the plan when she saw from the window that some guards were surrounding the house. Three of them came up the steps, their faces almost hidden by the ample cloaks which they wore.
"Milady," said one of these men, "are you not acquainted with the young Senator Contarino?"
"I see his mother quite often, but I hardly know the son."
"I am afraid that your Ladyship is not telling the truth. Here is a paper written in your hand which proves the contrary of what you are saying."
Adelaide threw a glance at the paper and recognized the oath which she had signed the day before. She lowered her eyes and her profound silence was her only reply.
"Did you not realize," continued the man, "that you were running a serious danger in consenting to such a criminal association?"
"Yes, I realized that."
"I can only prove it to you this way," said the same man pulling from under his coat the bloody head of the unfortunate Anthony. "You see, Milady, what one risks in Venice in taking part in plots of this type. All of your accomplices have just undergone the same fate. Follow me."
"Am I going to a like punishment?"
"That is to be judged later."
The unhappy Adelaide did not doubt that her last hour had arrived. She had enough presence of mind, however, to ask permission to take Bathilda along with her and the guards having consented, three new guards conducted the two women to a gondola which soon took them to the Palace of the Doges. They were escorted along long corridors and down an infinite number of stairs until they arrived at a large room where three bodies were hanging from the ceiling.
Two senators were seated in this room. One of them ordered the princess to examine the bodies carefully and to see if she recognized them as friends of the young Contarino. Adelaide, in spite of her repugnance, examined very carefully these beings whose heads were not disfigured too much for their features to have lost their identity. After examination she said she had never seen those three men before.
"It is very fortunate that your report is similar to theirs," said one of the senators, "your place was beside them. Guards, do your duty."
Adelaide and her companion were taken to one of the dungeons situated in the lowest part of the palace. These dungeons are well known in that the poor prisoners suffer intensely from the heat during the summer and then from the cold in winter. It is very rare that a person survived more than a year in these cells which had no furniture. On the other hand, the prisoners were well fed.
"You should give thanks to God," said the jailer locking them in, "yes, you should thank Him that instead of being hanged, as you have merited, you can end your days peacefully here."
"But," asked Adelaide, "can I at least see my adviser or friends?"
"Write out your request," said the jailer, "and I will take it to the Senate. It will be acted on there."
Taking advantage of the kindness of the man, Adelaide asked that she be allowed to see Bianchi and he appeared a week later.
He begged the princess to forgive him for having taken her into such a house and told her that the only way to get out of her present situation was to tell her real name.
The princess agreed to this and Bianchi hastened to the Senate where he told them the importance of their prisoner. Immediately one of the members of this august assembly, followed by Bianchi, went to the cell where the two women were and received from the princess the declaration of her titles and also her statement that she had been guilty in the unfortunate affair only of an imprudent curiosity.
"… which was natural in a woman like me," she continued, "since I was born to reign. I was glad to know about all the plots which the wickedness and insubordination of man prepare in these troubled times."
The Princess of Saxony was taken back to her hotel where she was allowed to stay as long as her affairs should require and she took up again her incognito.
The shock of this whole affair had been terrible in Venice. More than four hundred people had perished in different types of torture. And since there was so much disorder and tumult in the city and in the surrounding country Adelaide considered it prudent to stay in her hotel. After things calmed down a little, the senator who had released Adelaide from prison came to offer her the society of his home, in assuring her that she would not have to run the same dangers she had undergone in the house of the Contarinos. Adelaide consented and shortly after this the great city became calm and tranquil.
The approach of the carnival finished calming all the hot tempers and these people, frivolous and gay, although often thoughtful and profound, ran to the ball forgetting the scaffold. And that is the story of all men; the thorns of life disappear when the roses bloom.