through; but he determined to postpone his escape till the 27th, the day after that being St. Augustine's day, when he knew that the great council met, and that in consequence there would be no person in the Bussola, which adjoined the chamber through which he must pass. Though the delay was dictated by prudence, Casanova had reason to repent of it. 'On the 25th of August an event happened,' says he, 'which even now makes me shudder at the recollection of it. I heard the bolts drawn, and a death-like fear seized me; the beating of my heart shook my body, and I threw myself almost fainting into my arm-chair. Lorenzo, still in the garret, said to me through the grating in a tone of pleasure, "I wish you joy of the news I bring." 'I imagined he had brought me my freedom, and I saw myself lost; the hole I had made would effectually debar me from liberty. Lorenzo entered, and desired me to follow him. I offered to dress myself, but he said it was unnecessary, as he was only going to remove me from this detestable cell to another quite new and welllighted, with two windows, from which I could overlook half Venice, and could stand upright in. I was nearly beside myself. I asked for some vinegar, and begged him to thank the secretary, but to entreat him to leave me where I was. Lorenzo asked me if I were mad to refuse to exchange a hell for a para dise; and offering his arm to aid me, desired my bed, books, etc., to be brought after. Seeing it was in vain to oppose any longer, I rose and left my cage, and with some small satisfaction heard him order my chair to be brought with me; for in the straw of that was my stiletto hidden. Would it had been possible for my toilsome work in the floor to have accompanied me also! 'Leaning on the shoulder of Lorenzo, who tried by laughing to enliven me, I passed through two long galleries, then over three steps into a large, light hall, and passed through a door at the left end of it into a corridor twelve feet long and two broad. The two grated windows in it presented to the eye a wide extensive view of a great part of the town; but I was not in a situation to rejoice at the prospect. The door of my destined prison was in the corner of this corridor, and the grating of it was opposite to one of the windows that lighted the passage, so that the prisoner could not only enjoy a great part of the prospect, but also feel the refreshment which the cool air of the open window afforded him,-a balsam for any creature in that season of the year; but I could not think of all this at that moment, as the reader may easily conceive. Lorenzo left me and my chair, into which I threw myself, and he told me he would go for my bed.' Casanova remained motionless in his chair, as though he were petrified. His mind was agitated by a variety of feelings, in which disappointment and alarm were predominant. He had not only to lament that his hopes were blighted on the very eve of their being realized, but he had reason to fear that his punishment would be much increased. Clemency to state criminals was not an attribute of the Venetian government. He already seemed to himself to be condemned to dwell for life, in the dark and silent dungeons called the wells, where, far beneath the level of the waves, the victim pined away existence amidst swarms of vermin, oozing waters, and noisome exhalations. At last, however, by a powerful mental effort, he in some measure recovered his composure. were examined, but nothing was found; luckily the under side of the arm-chair, into which the stiletto was thrust, was not looked into. 'So you won't tell me where the tools are that you used to cut through the floor?' said Lorenzo. 'I'll see if you'll confess to others.' Casanova answered with provoking coolness, 'If it be true that I have cut through the floor, I shall say that I had the tools from yourself, and that I have given them back to you.' This was too much for the jailor to bear; he began literally to howl, ran his head against the wall, stamped and danced like a madman, and finally darted from the room. The threat which Casanova had thrown out produced the effect which he probably expected from it. Lorenzo had the hole secretly filled up, and took special care to say nothing about it to his suspicious and vindictive masters. Shortly after his removal, two under-jailors brought his bed, and went back for the remainder of his things. They did not return; and for more than two On quitting the cell, Lorenzo hours he was kept in suspense. closed all the windows, so as to At length hurried footsteps and prevent the prisoner from inhalwords of wrath were heard in ing a single breath of fresh air. the passage, and Lorenzo rushed The place was like an oven, and into the apartment, hot with to sleep was rendered imposrage, and pouring forth a torrent sible. As he durst not report of imprecations and blasphemies. to his superiors the offence He demanded the axe with which had been committed, the which the hole had been made, jailor seems to have determined the name of the faithless to revenge himself by making servant who had furnished it, the culprit as uncomfortable as and ordered his prisoner to he could. In the morning sour be searched. Casanova, who wine, stinking water, tainted. knew his man, met him with meat, and hard bread were scorn and defiance. The cap-brought to Casanova; and when tive, the bed, and the mattress he requested that the window might be opened, no answer was vouchsafed. The walls and the floor were examined with an iron bar by an under-keeper; and as the inmate had formerly objected to sweeping, his cell was left undisturbed by a broom. The heat increased to such a degree, that Casanova began to think he should be suffocated; the perspiration dropped from him so profusely that he could not read or walk about; and he could neither eat nor drink of the disgusting food with which he was supplied. The same fare was furnished on the second day, and the same silence maintained by the malicious jailor. The prisoner grew furious, and determined that he would stab his tormentor on the following day; but prudence, or a better feeling, induced him to relinquish his purpose, and he contented himself with assuring Lorenzo, that as soon as he regained his liberty he would certainly throttle him. For a whole week Lorenzo kept up this system of annoyance. On the eighth day Casanova, in the presence of the under-turnkeys, imperiously demanded the monthly account, and called him a cheat. This demand seems to have awakened the jailor to a sense of his own interest. If he persisted in playing the tyrant, it was to be feared that no more sequins would be forthcoming for masses. His avarice got the better of his spleen, and he became tractable. A favourable opportunity for a making his peace occurred at the moment. Bragadino sent to the prisoner a basket of lemons, which gift, with chicken and a bottle of excellent water, Lorenzo presented to Casanova along with the account, ordering at the same time the windows to be opened. Conciliated by this unexpected change, Casanova desired that the balance of the account might be given to Lorenzo's wife, with the exception of a sequin, which was to be divided among his underlings. When they were alone he said calmly, 'You have told me that you are | indebted to me for the tools you made the great opening in the floor of your cell with; I am not, therefore, curious to know anything more of that; but who gave you the lamp ?' 'You yourself,' was the reply; 'you gave me oil, flint, and sulphur ; the rest I had already.' 'That is true; can you as easily prove that I helped you to the tools to break through the floor?' 'Just as easily; I got everything from you.' 'Grant me patience! what do I hear? Did I give you an axe?' 'I will confess all; but the secretary must be present.' 'I will ask no further, but believe you. Be silent, and remember I am a poor man, and have a family.' He left the cell, holding his hands to his face. Though Lorenzo was obliged to be silent with respect to Casanova's attempt, he adopted precautions to prevent another from being made. Every day to recover freedom can inspire one of the attendants searched the captive with hope, though the floor and walls of the apart-hope be lost. The first obstacle ment with an iron bar. But the prisoner laughed at this useless care. It was neither through the walls nor the floor that he was planning to escape. He well knew that in those quarters nothing could be done. His new scheme was to find the means of opening a correspondence with the prisoner over his head, whom he would furnish with the stiletto, for the purpose of making an aperture, through which he himself might ascend into the upper cell. On reaching that cell, Casanova purposed to break another hole in the ceiling, get out upon the roof with his fellow-labourer, and either find some outlet, or let themselves down by the help of their linen and bed-clothes. It is obvious, that the success of such a project was so extremely doubtful, that it seemed to be the height of absurdity to reckon upon it. At the very outset, the commencing and carrying on an intercourse with the prisoner above-stairs, appeared to present an almost insuperable difficulty. If that were surmounted, there was the chance that his confederate might be cowardly or treacherous, there was the hourly risk that their operations would be detected, and there was the danger which they must encounter in effecting their descent from the lofty summit of the prison. But the longing But the longing was unconsciously removed by Lorenzo himself. That worthy had an insatiable love of gold, and could not bear to see the money of the prisoners pass into any other pockets than his own. Casanova satirically describes him, as being one who would have sold St. Mark himself, for a dollar. The prisoner having desired him to purchase the works of Maffei, the jailor suggested that the expense might be saved by borrowing books from another captive, and lending his own in return. This suggestion was readily adopted by Casanova, who hoped that it might lead to a correspondence, which would forward his design. A volume of Wolff's writing was brought to him, in which he found a sheet of paper, containing a paraphrase in verse of a sentence from Seneca. He had neither pen nor pencil, but he nevertheless contrived to write some verses on the same paper, and a catalogue of his books on the last leaf of the volume. The nail of his little finger, shaped into a sort of pen, and some mulberry juice, were the materials which he employed. An answer, in the Latin language, came on the morrow with the second volume. The writer, who was the inhabitant of the cell above Casanova's, stated himself to be a monk, by name Marino Balbi, and of a noble Venetian family; Count Andreas Asquino, of Udina, was his fellow - prisoner. Both of them offered the use of their books. In reply, Casanova gave an account of himself, which drew forth a second epistle from the monk. In the next book was a letter of sixteen pages, and at the back of the volume, paper, pen, and pencil. These invaluable articles the two prisoners had procured by bribing Nicolo, the under-keeper who attended on them. Balbi, who had learned from Nicolo the particulars of the recent attempt to escape, was eager to know what were Casanova's present plans. At first Casanova hesitated to trust him, having conceived an unfavourable opinion of his character; but considering that he could not do without his assistance, he finally resolved to confide in him. The monk made some objections to the feasibility of the plan, which, however, were soon overruled. That Balbi might perforate the floor, it was necessary for him to have the stiletto; and Casanova was puzzled how to convey it to him. He at last hit upon a method. He directed Lorenzo to procure a large folio edition of a work which he specified, and which he thought would allow of the stiletto being concealed in the hollow, between the binding and the leather back. Unluckily the stiletto proved to be two inches longer than the volume, and Casanova was obliged to task his ingenuity to find a remedy for this defect. 'I told Lorenzo,' he says, that I was desirous of celebrating Michaelmas day with two great plates of macaroni, dressed with butter and Parmesan cheese, and that I wished to give one to the prisoner who had lent me his books. He answered that the same prisoner had expressed a wish to borrow my great book. I told him I would send it with the macaroni, and ordered him to procure me the largest dish he could; I would myself fill it. While Lorenzo went for the dish, I wrapped up the hilt in paper, and stuck it behind the binding. I was convinced that if I put a large dish of macaroni on the top of the book, Lorenzo's attention would be so occupied in carrying that safely, that he never would perceive the end of the iron projecting. I informed Balbi of this, and charged him to be particularly cautious to take the dish and book together. On Michaelmas day Lorenzo came with a great pan, in which the macaroni was stewed. I immediately added the butter, and poured it into both dishes, filling them up with grated Parmesan cheese; the dish for the monk I filled to the brim, and the macaroni swam in butter. I put the dish upon the volume, which was half as broad in diameter as the book was long, and gave them to Lorenzo, with the back of the book turned |