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from Venice, there is a prison containing more than a hundred
Carbonari."

"You have told me so a hundred times. Well! what would you have me
hear, speak out; are some of them condemned?"

"Exactly."

"Who are they?"

"I don't know."

"Is my poor friend Maroncelli among them?"

"Ah, Sir, too many . . . I know not who." And he went away in great
emotion, casting on me a look of compassion.

Shortly after came the jailer, attended by the assistants, and by a
man whom I had never before seen. The latter opened his subject as
follows: "The commission, Sir, has given orders that you come with
me!"

"Let us go, then," I replied; "may I ask who you are?"

"I am jailer of the San Michele prisons, where I am going to take
you."

The jailer of the Piombi delivered to the new governor the money
belonging to me which he had in his hands. I obtained permission to
make some little present to the under jailers; I then put my clothes
in order, put my Bible under my arm, and departed. In descending
the immense track of staircases, Tremerello for a moment took my
hand; he pressed it as much as to say, "Unhappy man! you are lost."

We came out at a gate which opened upon the lake, and there stood a
gondola with two under jailers belonging to San Michele.

I entered the boat with feelings of the most contradictory nature;
regret at leaving the prison of the Piombi, where I had suffered so
much, but where I had become attached to some individuals, and they
to me; the pleasure of beholding once more the sky, the city, and
the clear waters, without the intervention of iron bars. Add to
this the recollection of that joyous gondola, which, in time past,
had borne me on the bosom of that placid lake; the gondolas of the
lake of Como, those of Lago Maggiore, the little barks of the Po,
those of the Rodano, and of the Sonna! Oh, happy vanished years!
who, who then so happy in the world as I?

The son of excellent and affectionate parents, in a rank of life,
perhaps, the happiest for the cultivation of the affections, being
equally removed from riches and from poverty; I had spent my infancy
in the participation of the sweetest domestic ties; had been the
object of the tenderest domestic cares. I had subsequently gone to
Lyons, to my maternal uncle, an elderly man, extremely wealthy, and
deserving of all he possessed; and at his mansion I partook of all
the advantages and delights of elegance and refined society, which
gave an indescribable charm to those youthful days. Thence
returning into Italy, under the parental roof, I at once devoted
myself with ardour to study, and the enjoyment of society;
everywhere meeting with distinguished friends and the most
encouraging praise. Monti and Foscolo, although at variance with
each other, were kind to me. I became more attached to the latter,
and this irritable man, who, by his asperities, provoked so many to

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