Sunrise Part 75

"But why useless, if you are inclined to interfere?" she said, boldly, "and I think my father's family have some t.i.tle to consideration."

"My old friend," said he, in a kindly way, "what is there in the world I would not do for you if it were within my power? But this is not. What you ask is, to put the matter shortly, impossible--impossible!"

In the brief silence that followed the mother heard a slight sigh: she turned instantly, and saw her daughter, as white as death, about to fall. She caught her in her arms with a slight cry of alarm.

"Here, Stefan, take my handkerchief--dip it in the water--quick!"

The huge, bullet-headed man strode across the lawn to the fountain. As he returned, and saw before him the white-lipped, unconscious girl, who was supported in her mother's arms, he said to himself, "Now I understand."

CHAPTER XLVIII.

AN APPEAL.

This sudden and involuntary confession of alarm and despair no doubt told her story more clearly than anything else could have done. General von Zoesch as he chose to call himself, was excessively concerned; he held her hand till he saw the life returning to the pale, beautiful face: he was profuse and earnest in his apologies.

"My dear young lady I beg a thousand pardons!--I had no idea of alarming you; I had no idea you were so deeply interested; come, take my arm, and we will walk down into the open, where the sea-air is cool. I beg a thousand pardons."

She had pulled herself together with a desperate effort of will.

"You spoke abruptly, signore; you used the word _impossible_! I had imagined it was unknown to you."

Her lips were rather pale; but there was a flush of color returning to her face, and her voice had something of the old proud and pathetic ring in it.

"Yes," she continued, standing-before him, with her eyes downcast, "I was told that when great trouble came upon me or mine I was to come here--to Naples--and I should find myself under the protection of the greatest power in Europe. My name--my mother's name--was to be enough.

And this is the result, that a brave man, who is our friend and dear to us, is threatened with a dishonorable death, and the very power that imposed it on him--the power that was said to be invincible, and wise, and generous--is unable or unwilling to stir hand or foot!"

"A dishonorable death, signorina?"

"Oh, signore," she said, with a proud indignation, "do not speak to me as if I were a child. Cannot one see what is behind all this secrecy?

Cannot one see that you know well what has been done in England by your friends and colleagues? You put this man, who is too proud, too n.o.ble, to withdraw from his word, on a service that involves the certain sacrifice of his life! and there is no honor attached to this sacrifice--so he himself has admitted. What does that mean?--what can it mean--but a.s.sa.s.sination?"

He drew back his head a little bit, as if startled, and stared at her.

"My dear young lady--"

But her courage had not returned to her for nothing. She raised the beautiful, dark, pathetic eyes, and regarded him with an indignant fearlessness.

"That is what any one might guess," she said. "But there is more.

Signore, you and your friends meditate the a.s.sa.s.sination of the King of Italy! and you call on an Englishman--an Englishman who has no love of secret and blood-stained ways--"

"Stefan!" the mother cried, quickly, and she placed her hand on the general's arm; "do not be angry. Do not heed her--she is a child--she is quick to speak. Believe me, there are other reasons for our coming to you."

"Yes, yes, my friend Natalie; all in good time. But I am most anxious to put myself right with the signorina your daughter first of all. Now, my dear young lady," he said, taking her hand, and putting it on his arm, and gently compelling her to walk with him toward the opener s.p.a.ce where the sea-air was cool, "I again apologize to you for having spoken unwittingly--"

"Oh, signore, do not trouble about that! It is no matter of courtesy or politeness that is in the question: it is the life of one of one's dearest friends. There are other times for politeness."

"Stefan," the mother interposed, anxiously, "do not heed her--she is agitated."

"My dear Natalie," said the general, smiling, "I admire a brave woman as I admire a brave man. Do not I recognize another of you Berezolyis?

The moment you think one of your friends is being wronged, fire and water won't prevent you from speaking out. No, no, my dear young lady,"

he said, turning to the daughter, "you cannot offend me by being loyal and outspoken."

He patted her hand, just as Calabressa had done.

"But I must ask you to listen for a moment, to remove one or two misconceptions. It is true I know something of the service which your English friend has undertaken to perform. Believe me, it has nothing to do with the a.s.sa.s.sination of the King of Italy--nothing in the world."

She lifted her dark eyes for a second, and regarded him steadily.

"I perceive," said he, "that you pay me the compliment of asking me if I lie. I do not. Rea.s.sure yourself: there are no people in this country more loyal to the present dynasty than my friends and myself. We have no time for wild Republican projects."

She looked somewhat bewildered. This speculation as to the possible nature of the service demanded of George Brand had been the outcome of many a night's anxious self-communing; and she had indulged in the wild hope that this man, when abruptly challenged, might have been startled into some avowal. For then, would not her course have been clear enough?

But now she was thrown back on her former perplexity, with only the one certainty present to her mind--the certainty of the danger that confronted her lover.

"My dear young lady," he said, "it is useless for you to ask what that service is, for I shall refuse to answer you. But I a.s.sure you that you have my deepest sympathy, and I have seen a good deal of suffering from similar causes. I do not seek to break into your confidence, but I think I understand your position; you will believe me that it is with no light heart that I must repeat the word _impossible_. Need I reason with you?

Need I point out to you that there is scarcely any one in the world whom we might select for a dangerous duty who would not have some one who would suffer on his account? Who is without some tie of affection that must be cut asunder--no matter with what pain--when the necessity for the sacrifice arises? You are one of the unhappy ones; you must be brave; you must try to forget your sufferings, as thousands of wives and sweethearts and daughters have had to forget, in thinking that their relatives and friends died in a good cause."

Her heart was proud and indignant no longer; it had grown numbed. The air from the sea felt cold.

"I am helpless, signore," she murmured; "I do not know what the cause is. I do not know what justification you have for taking this man's life."

He did not answer that. He said,

"Perhaps, indeed, it is not those who are called on to sacrifice their life for the general good who suffer most. They can console themselves with thinking of the result. It is their friends--those dearest to them--who suffer, and who many a time would no doubt be glad to become their subst.i.tutes. It is true that we--that is, that many a.s.sociations--recognize the principle of the vicarious performance of duties and punishments; but not any one yet has permitted a woman to become subst.i.tute for a man."

"What made you think of that, signore?" she asked, regarding him.

"I have known some cases," he said, evasively, "where such an offer, I think, would have been made."

"It could not be accepted?"

"Oh no."

"Not even by the power that is the greatest in Europe?" she said, bitterly--"that is invincible and all-generous? Oh, signore, you are too modest in your pretensions! And the Berezolyis--they have done nothing, then, in former days to ent.i.tle them to consideration; they are but as anybody in the crowd who might come forward and intercede for a friend; they have no old a.s.sociates, then, and companions in this Society, that they cannot have this one thing granted them--that they cannot get this one man's life spared to him! Signore, your representatives mistake your powers; more than that, they mistake the strength of your memory, and your friends.h.i.+p!"

The red face of the bullet-headed general grew redder still, but not with anger.

"Signorina," he said, evidently greatly embarra.s.sed, "you humiliate me.

You--you do not know what you ask--"

He had led her back to the garden-seat; they had both sat down; he did not notice how her bosom was struggling with emotion.

"You ask me to interfere--to commit an act of injustice--"

"Oh, signore, signore, this is what I ask!" she cried, quite overcome; and she fell at his feet, and put her clasped hands on his knees, and broke into a wild fit of crying; "this is what I ask of you, signore--this is what I beg from you on my knees--I ask you to give me the life of--of my betrothed!"