The Daltons Volume II Part 56

The boy bent his head in token of submission, but never spoke.

"It will be the proudest hour of my life, Frank, when you can throw off this reproach, and stand forth a thorough Dalton, unshaken in truth and honor. But, to do this, you must be calm and quiet now,--not speak, nor even think of these things. You shall remain with me."

Here the boy's tears fell upon the old man's hand. For a second or two not a word was spoken. At last he went on,----

"Yes; you shall not leave me from this hour. Our fortunes are the same.

With you it remains to show that we are worthy soldiers of our Kaiser."

Frank pressed the old Count's hand upon his heart, as though to call its very pulses to bear witness to his fealty. This simple action seemed to have exhausted his last energy, for he now sank back in his chair and fainted.

The excitement he had gone through appeared to have utterly prostrated him, for he now lay for hours motionless and unconscious. Except a heavy sigh at long intervals, he gave no sign of life; and the surgeons, having exhausted all their resources to stimulate him, gave but faint hope of his recovery. They who only knew the old Count as the stern soldier, bold, abrupt, and peremptory, could not conceive by what magic he had been changed into a mould of almost womanly tenderness. There was no care he did not bestow on the sick youth. The first surgeons of the Staff were sent for, and all that skill and affection could suggest were enlisted in his service. The case, however, was of gloomy presage. It was the relapse fever after a wound, aggravated by mental causes of deep influence.

The greatest sympathy was felt for the old Count's position. His comrades came or sent frequently to him. Kind messages reached him from quarters wherein once lay all his pride and glory; and a young archduke came himself to offer his new litter to convey Frank to Verona, where the Imperial headquarters were stationed. These were the very flatteries which once Von Auersberg would have prized above all that wealth could give; these were the kind of recognitions by which he measured his own career in life, making him to feel where he stood; but now one grief had so absorbed him he scarcely noticed them. He could not divest his mind, either, of the thought that the boy's fate was intended as a judgment on himself for his own cold and ungenerous treatment of him. "I forgot,"

would he say to himself,----"I forgot that he was not a castaway like myself. I forgot that the youth had been trained up amidst the flow of affectionate intercourse, loving and beloved, and I compared his position with my own."

And such was in reality the very error he committed. He believed that by subjecting Frank to all the hard rubs which once had been his own fate he was securing the boy's future success; forgetting the while how widely different were their two natures, and that the affections which are moulded by habits of family a.s.sociation are very unlike the temperament of one unfriended and unaided, seeking his fortune with no other guidance than a bold heart and strong will. The old Count was not the only one, nor will he be the last, to fall into this mistake; and it may be as well to take a warning from his error, and learn that for success in the remote and less trodden paths of life the warm affections that attach to home and family are sad obstacles.

It was ten days before Frank could be removed, and then he was carried in a litter, arriving in Verona on the fourth day. From his watchful cares beside the sick-bed, the old General was now summoned to take part in the eventful councils of the period. A great and momentous crisis had arrived, and the whole fate, not only of Austria, but of Europe, depended on the issue. The successes of the Italian arms had been, up to this point, if not decisive, at least sufficiently important to make the result a question of doubt. If the levies contributed by the States of the Church and Tuscany were insignificant in a warlike point of view, they were most expressive signs of popular feeling at least. Austria, besides, was a.s.sailed on every flank, with open treason in her capital; and the troops which might have conquered Lombardy were marching northward on Prague, or turning eastward towards Hungary. It then became a grave question whether, even at the cost of the whole Milanais, a peace should not be at once concluded, and Austria merely stipulate for certain commercial advantages, and the undisturbed possession of the Venetian States. If the more dispa.s.sionate heads that rule cabinets saw wisdom in this plan, the warmer and less calculating hearts of soldiers deemed it a base humiliation. Long accustomed to treat the Italians with a haughty contempt, they could not endure the thought of recognizing them as equals, not to say superiors. There were thus two parties in the Council,----the one eager for a speedy termination of the war, and the other burning to erase the memory of late defeats, and win back the fair provinces of their Emperor. To such an extent had this spirit of discordance at last gone, that the cabinet orders of Vienna were more than once overruled at headquarters, and the very decrees of the Government slighted by the commander-in-chief. It was a time of independent will and personal responsibility; and probably to this accident is owing the salvation of the Imperial House.

At last, when the sympathies of France and England with the cause of Italy became more than a mere suspicion, when troops marched southward towards the Alps, and diplomatic messages traversed Europe, counselling, in all the ambiguous courtesy of red tape, "wise and reasonable concessions to the fair demands of a people," the cabinet of Vienna hastily despatched an envoy to Lombardy, with orders to concert with the generals, and treat for a peace.

Had a squadron of the enemy dashed through the streets of Verona, they could not have created one half the dismay that did the arrival of the caleche which conveyed the Imperial Commissioner. The old Field-Marshal had just returned from a review of the troops, who, as usual when he appeared, were wild with enthusiasm, when an officer of his staff announced the presence of the envoy, and in a low whisper added the object of his mission. A council was speedily called, and Von Auersberg specially invited to be present and a.s.sist in its deliberations.

The discussion lasted several hours; and, however unshaken in hope and resolute in will the old Marshals of the Empire, they found themselves no match in argument for the wily civilian, who, displaying before them the financial embarra.s.sments of the State, showed that war implied bankruptcy, and that even victory might mean ruin. The great questions of Imperial policy, which in their zeal they had overlooked, were strongly pressed upon them; and that public opinion of Europe, which they had only fancied a bugbear and a mockery, was represented as the formidable expression of the great family of mankind, on the conduct of one of its own members. With all this it was no easy task to reconcile a bold soldier, at the head of a splendid army, to retire from the field, to confess himself beaten, and to acknowledge defeat, with an a.s.sured sense of victory in his heart The evening closed in, and still they sat in debate. Some had exchanged opposition for a dogged and cold silence; others had modified their views to a kind of half-concession; while a few rallied round their old chief, with a mistaken determination to have one more dash at the enemy should the peace be ratified on the day after. It would seem as if the Commissioner had been fully prepared for every phase of this opposition. He combated every argument in turn, and addressed himself with readiness to every objection that was offered. At last, when in a burst of mortification and anger the old Field-Marshal arose from the table, and declared that, come what might, it should never be said that _he_ had lost the provinces of his master, the other stole close beside him, and whispered a few words in his ear. The old man started; his rugged, weather-beaten face twitched with a short, convulsive movement, and he threw himself down into a chair, with a muttered oath on his lips.

There was now a dead silence in the chamber. Every eye was turned stealthily towards the old General, by whose counsels they were wont to be guided; but he never spoke a word, and sat with his hands resting on his sword-hilt, the rattle of the scabbard against the belt, as it shook beneath his hand, being the only sound heard.

They are dreadful moments in life when men of high and daring courage see the trust they have long reposed in bold and vigorous measures rejected, and in its stead wily and crafty counsels adopted and followed. This was such a moment; and the old warriors, tried in many a battle-field, scarcely dared to meet each other's eyes, from very shame and sorrow. It was just then that the sharp, quick trot of horses was heard from without, and the jingling sound of bells announced a post-carriage. Scarcely had it stopped, when an aide-de-camp entered, and whispered a few words to the Field-Marshal.

"No, no," said the old man, peevishly; "we are marching on to dishonor fast enough. We want no priestly aid to hasten our steps."

The young officer appeared to hesitate, and still lingered in the chamber.

"It is your friend, the Abbe, has arrived," said the General, addressing the Commissioner; "and I have said we can dispense with his arguments.

He can add little to what you have so ably spoken; and if we are to depose our arms, let it be at the bidding of our Emperor, and not at the beck of a priest."

"But D'Esmonde must have come from the south," interposed the civilian; "he may have some tidings worth hearing."

"Let him come in, then," said the Field-Marshal, abruptly; and the officer retired.

D'Esmonde had scarcely pa.s.sed the threshold when his quick, keen glance around the room revealed to him the nature of their gloomy counsels. A dogged look of submission sat on every face, and the wily priest read in their fallen countenances all the bitterness of defeat.

The stern coldness of the reception that met him never abashed the Abbe in the least; and he made his compliments to the princ.i.p.al personages of the council with a _suave_ dignity the very opposite to their uncourteous manner. Even when he had completed the little circle of his attentions, and stood in expectation of a request to be seated, his air was calm and unembarra.s.sed, although not a word, or even a gesture, gave the invitation. All felt that this should come from the Field-Marshal himself, and none dared to usurp the prerogative of his rank. Too deeply lost in his own brooding thoughts to attend to anything else, the old General sat still, with his head bent down over the hilt of his sabre.

"His Holiness commissions me to greet you, Herr Feld-Marshal," said the Abbe, in a low, soft voice, "and to say that those ancient medals you once spoke of shall be speedily transmitted to your palace at Milan."

"My palace at Milan, sir!" exclaimed the old man, fiercely. "When shall I see that city again? Ask that gentleman yonder, who has just arrived from Vienna, what the cabinet counsels are; he will tell you the glorious tidings that the army will read to-morrow in a general order!"

"I have later news than even _his_!" said the Abbe, coolly seating himself at the table, and placing a roll of papers before him. "Baron Brockhausen," said he, addressing the Commissioner, "if I mistake not, left Vienna on the ninth, reached Innspruck the eleventh, stayed there till the evening of the thirteenth, and only reached here some hours ago. The Prime Minister, consequently, was unaware that, on the tenth, General Durando was recalled by the Pope; that on the evening of the same day Pepe received a similar order from the King of Naples; that the Tuscan levies and the Polish legion have been remanded; and that Piedmont stands alone in the contest, with a disorganized army and divided counsels. These," said he, pointing to the letters before him,--"these are copies of the doc.u.ments I refer to, you will see from these that the right flank of the Piedmontese army is open and unprotected; that, except the banditti of Rome and Tuscany, there are no troops between this and Ferrara; and if the reinforcements that are now halted in the Tyrol be but hurried down, a great and decisive blow may be dealt at once."

"Bey'm Blitzen! you ought to have been a general of brigade, priest!"

cried the old Field-Marshal, as he clasped his hand in both his own, and pressed it with delight. "These are the n.o.blest words I have heard to-day. Gentlemen," said he, rising, "there is little more for a council to do. You will return at once to your several brigades. Schrann's eight battalions of infantry, with two of Feld-Jagers, to hold themselves in readiness to march to-morrow; the Reuse Hussars to form escort to the light artillery on the Vicenza road; all the other cavalry to take up position to the right, towards Peschiera."

"This means a renewal of hostilities, then?" said the Commissioner.

"It means that I will win back the provinces of my Emperor. Let him dispose of them after as he pleases." And so saying, he left the room, followed by the other officers.

CHAPTER XXVIII. PLOTS, POLITICS, AND PRIESTCRAFT.

It would conduce but little to the business of our story were we to follow the changeful fortunes of the war, and trace the current of events which marked that important campaign. The struggle itself is already well known; the secret history of the contest has yet to be written. We have hinted at some of the machinations which provoked the conflict; we have shown the deep game by which Democracy was urged on to its own destruction; and, by the triumph of Absolutism, the return of the Church to her ancient rule provided and secured; we have vaguely shadowed out the dark wiles by which freedom and anarchy were inseparably confounded, and the cause of liberty was made to seem the denial of all religion. It would take us too far away from the humble track of our tale were we to dwell on this theme, or stop to adduce the various evidences of the truth of our a.s.sumption. We pa.s.s on, therefore, and leave D'Esmonde the task of chronicling some of the results of that memorable period.

The letter, from which we propose to make some extracts was addressed, like his former one, to his Irish correspondent, and opened with a kind of thanksgiving over the glorious events of the preceding few weeks, wherein victory succeeded victory, and the Austrians once again became the masters of haughty Milan. We pa.s.s over the exulting description the Abbe gave of the discord and dissension in the Patriotic ranks; the reckless charges of treachery made against Carlo Alberto himself, for not undertaking the defence of a city dest.i.tute of everything; and the violent insubordination of the Lombards as the terrible hour of their retribution drew nigh. We have not s.p.a.ce for his graphic narrative of the King's escape from Milan, protected by an Austrian escort, against the murderous a.s.saults of fellow-patriots. These facts are all before the world; nor would it contribute to their better understanding were we to adduce the partisan zeal with which the priest detailed them.

"The struggle, you will thus see," wrote he, "is over. The blasphemer and the democrat have fallen together, and it will take full a century to rally from the humiliation of such a defeat. Bethink you, my dear Michel, what that same century may make the Church, and how, if we be but vigorous and watchful, every breach in the glorious fortress may be repaired, every outwork strengthened, every bastion newly mounted, and her whole garrison refreshed and invigorated.

Without a great convulsion like this we were lost! The torpor of peace brought with it those habits of thought and reflection--the sworn enemies of all faith! As governments grew more popular they learned to rely less on _our_ aid.

The glorious sway of Belief was superseded by direct appeals to what they called common sense, and imperceptibly, but irrevocably, the world was being Protestantized. Do not fancy that my fears have exaggerated this evil. I speak of what I know thoroughly and well. Above all, do not mistake me, as though I confounded this wide-spread heresy with what you see around you in Ireland, those backslidings which you so aptly called 'soup conversions.'

"By Protestantism, I mean something more dangerous than Anglicanism, which, by the way, has latterly shown itself the very reverse of an enemy. The peril I dread is that spirit of examination and inquiry which, emboldened by the detection of some trumpery trick, goes on to question the great dogma of our religion. And here I must say, that these miracles--as they will call them----have been most ill- judged and ill-timed. Well adapted as they are to stimulate faith and warm zeal in remote and unvisited villages, they are serious errors when they aspire to publicity and challenge detection. I have done all I could to discountenance them; but even in the Vatican, my dear Michel, there are men who fancy we are living in the sixteenth century. What are you to do with a deafness that cannot be aroused by the blast of a steam-engine, and which can sleep undisturbed by the thunder of railroads? Well, let us be thankful for a little breathing time; the danger from these heretics is over for the present. And here I would ask of you to mark how the very same result has taken place wherever the battle was fought. The Church has been triumphant everywhere. Is this accident, my dear friend?

Was it mere chance that confounded counsels here, and dealt out ruin to Ireland also? Why did our policy come to a successful issue, here, by a dangerous conflict; and, with you, by abstaining from one? Why, because it was truth-- eternal, immutable truth--for which we struggled. I must say that if _our_ game called for more active exertions, and perhaps more personal hazards, _yours_ in Ireland was admirably devised. There never was a more complete catastrophe than that into which you betrayed your Mitch.e.l.ls and Meaghers; and does not the blind credulity of such men strike you as a special and Divine infliction? I own I think so. They were, with all their hot blood, and all the glow of their youth, serious thinkers and calm reasoners. They could detect the finger of _England_ in every tangled scheme, and yet they never saw the shadow of _your_ hand as it shook in derision over them. Yes, Michel, the game was most skilfully played, and I antic.i.p.ate largely from it. The curtain thus falls upon the first act of the drama; let us set about to prepare for its rising. I am far from saying that many errors--some of the gravest kind--have not been committed in the conduct of this affair. More than one grand opportunity has gone by without profit; and even my suggestion about the restoration of the States of the Church to their ancient limits within the Venetian provinces--a demand which Rome has formerly renewed every year since the treaty of Campo Formio, and which might now have been pressed with success-- even this was neglected! But what could be done with a runaway Pope and a scattered Consistory? Your letter, my dear Michel, is a perfect catechism--all questions! I must try a reply to some, at least, of its inquiries. You are anxious about the endowment of the Ursulines, and so am I; but unfortunately I can tell you little of my progress in that direction. Lady Hester Onslow would appear to have fallen into an entanglement of some sort with Lord Norwood; and although I have in my possession the means of preventing a marriage with him, or annulling it, if it should take place, yet the very exercise of this power, on my part, would as inevitably destroy all my influence over her, and be thus a mere piece of profitless malice. This, therefore, is a matter of some difficulty, increased, too, by his hasty departure from Florence--they say for England; but I have no clew to his destination, for he left this on the very day I last wrote to you--the day of my visit to the Moskova--in which you seem to be so much interested. Strangely enough, Michel, both this man and the Russian seemed to feel that they were in the toils, and broke away, rather than hazard an encounter with me. And they were right, too! For the deep game of life, there is no teaching like that of the cloister; and if we be not omnipotent, it is owing to our weakness of purpose. Hildebrand knew this--Boniface knew it also; but we have fallen upon poor successors of these great men! What might not a great Pope be in the age we live in!--one whose ambition was commensurate with his mission, and who had energy and courage for the task before him! Oh!

how I felt this, some nights ago, as I sat closeted with our present ruler--would you believe it, Michel, he has no higher guide or example than the weak and kind-hearted Pius the Seventh? To imitate _him_ is the whole rule of his faith, and to resemble him, even in his misfortunes, has become an ambition. How he strung for me the commonplaces of that good man, as though they had been the distilled essences of wisdom! Alas! alas! the great heritage of the Church has not been won by Quaker Popes.

"You ask about myself. All goes well. The die is cast; and so far, at least, a great point gained. The Austrians saw the matter in its true light, and with justice perceived that diplomacy is a war of reprisals. How I glory in the antic.i.p.ation of this vengeance upon England, the encourager and abettor of all the treason against our Faith! How little do they suspect the storm that is gathering around them; how tranquilly are they walking over the ground that is to be earthquaken! The letters and diplomas are all prepared. The Bull itself is ready; to-morrow, if it were opportune, I might be proclaimed a prince of the Church and an Archhishop of an English see! As in every great event of life the moment is everything, the question is now one of time.

Guardoni--and I look upon him as the shrewdest of the cardinals--says, 'Wait! our cause is advancing every day in England; every post brings us tidings of desertions to our army,--men distinguished in rank, station, or intellect. In our controversies we have suffered no defeats, while our moderation has gained us many well-wishers; we have a tone of general liberality to work upon that is eminently favorable to a policy meek, lowly, and unpretending.

Therefore, I say, Wait; and do not forfeit such advantages for the glory of a pageant' Against this it might be urged, that the hour is come to proclaim our victory; and that it would be a craven policy not to unfurl our banner above the walls we have won! I repose less trust in the force of this reasoning than in another view of the subject; and it is to the ricochet of our shot, Michel, that I look for the damage of our enemy. My calculation is this: the bold pretensions we advance will arouse the pa.s.sions of the whole island; meetings and addresses and pet.i.tions will abound. All the rampant insolence of outraged bigotry, all the blatant denunciations of insulted protestantism, will burst forth like a torrent. We shall be a.s.sailed in pamphlets and papers; caricatured, hooted, burned in effigy. A wily and well-conducted opposition on our part will fan and feed this flame. Some amongst us will a.s.sume the moderate tone: invoke the equality that pertains to every born Briton, and ask for the mere undisturbed exercise of our faith. Others, with greater boldness, will adventure sorties against the enemy, and thus provoke reply and discussion. To each will be a.s.signed his suited task. A laboring for the one great object,--to maintain the national fever at a white heat, to suffer no interval of calm reflection to come, and to force upon the Parliament, by the pressure of outward opinion, some severe or at least some galling act of legislation.

This once accomplished, our game is won, and the great schism we have so long worked for effected! It will then be the Government on one side and the Church on the other.

Could you wish for anything better? For myself, I care little how the campaign be then conducted; the victory must be our own. I have told you again and again there is no such policy against England as that of hampering the course of her justice. It was O'Connell's secret; he had no other; and he never failed till he attempted something higher. First, provoke a rash legislation, and then wait for the discomfiture that will follow it! With all the boasted working of the great const.i.tution, what a mere trifle disturbs and disjoints it! Ay, Michel, a rusty nail in the cylinder will spoil the play of the piston, although the engine be rated at a thousand horse-power. Such a conflict with Protestantism is exactly like the effect of a highly disciplined army taking the field against a mob. With _us_ all is preconcerted, prearranged, and planned; with _them_ everything is impulsive, rash, and ill-advised. This glorious prerogative of private judgment becomes a capital snare, when measures should be combined and united. Fancy, I ask of you,--fancy all the splendid errors of their hot enthusiasm; think of the blunders they will commit on platform or pulpit; reflect upon the folly and absurdity that will fill the columns of the public journals, and all the bigoted balderdash the press will groan under! What coa.r.s.e irony, what Billingsgate shall we hear of our Holy Church,----her saints, her miracles, and her dogmas,--what foul invectives against her pious women and their lives of sanct.i.ty! And then think of the glorious harvest that will follow, as we reply to insult by calm reasonings, to bigotry by words of charity and enlightenment, appealing to the nation at large for their judgment on which side truth should lie,--with intolerance, or with Christian meekness and submission?

"Prepare, then, I say, for the coming day; the great campaign is about to open, and neither you nor I, Michel, will live to see the end of the battle. On this side the Alps, all has happened as we wished. Italian Liberalism is crushed and defeated. The Piedmontese are driven back within their frontier, their army beaten, and their finances all but exhausted, and Austria is again at the head of Northern Italy. Rome will now be grander and more glorious than ever.

No more truckling to Liberalism, no more faith in the false prophets of Freedom. Our gorgeous 'Despotism' will arise reinvigorated by its trials, and the Church will proclaim herself the Queen of Europe!

"It is an inestimable advantage to have convinced these meek and good men here that there is but one road to victory, and that all alliance with what are called politicians is but a snare and a delusion.

"The Pope sees this at last, but nothing short of wounded pride could have taught him the lesson.

"Now to your last query, my dear Michel, and I feel all grat.i.tude for the warm interest with which you make it.

What is to be done I know not. I am utterly ignorant of my parentage, even of my birthplace. In the admission-book of Salamanca I stand thus:

'Samuel Eustace, native of Ireland, aged thirteen years and seven months; stipendiary of the second cla.s.s.' There lies my whole history. A certain Mr. G.o.dfrey had paid all the expenses of my journey from Louvain, and, up to the period of his death, continued to maintain me. From Louvain I can learn nothing. I was a 'Laic' they believed,----perhaps No. 134 or 137--they do not know which; and these are but sorry facts from which to derive the baptismal registry of a future cardinal. And yet something must be done, and speedily too. On the question of birth the Sacred College is peremptory. You will say that there ought to be no difficulty in devising a genealogy where there are no adverse claims to conflict; and if I could go over to Ireland, perhaps the matter might be easy enough. At this moment, however, my presence here is all-essential, while I am not without a hope that accident may afford me a clew to what I seek. A few days ago I was sent for from Malgherra to attend the dying bed of a young officer, whose illness had so completely disordered his brain that he forgot every word of the foreign language he was accustomed to speak, and could only understand or reply in his native English.

Although I had other and more pressing cases to attend to, the order coming from an archduke made obedience imperative, and so I hastened over to Verona, where the sick youth lay.

Conceive my surprise, Michel, to discover that he was the same Dalton,--the boy whom I have so often adverted to, as eternally crossing my path in life,--the relative of that G.o.dfrey who was my early patron. I have already confessed to you, Michel, that I felt towards this youth in a way for which my calmest reason could render no account. Gamblers have often told me of certain antipathies they have experienced, and that the mere presence of an individual-- one totally unknown to them, perhaps--has been so ominous of ill-luck that they dare not risk a bet while he remained in the room. I know you will say that men who pa.s.s their lives in the alternation of hope and fear become the slaves of every shadow that crosses the imagination, and that they are sorry pilots to trust to. So they are, Michel; they art meanly minded, they are sordid, and they are low; their thoughts never soar above the card or the hazard table; they are dead to all emotions of family and affection; the very events that are convulsing the world are less audible to their ears than the ring of the dice-box; and yet, with all this--would you believe it?--they are deep in the mysteries of portents. Their intense study of what we call chance has taught them to combine and arrange and discipline every atom and accident that can influence an event. They have their days of good and evil fortune, and they have their agencies that sway them to this side or to that. Chemistry shows us that substances that resemble metals are decomposed by the influence of light alone,--do not, then, despise the working of that gleam that darts from a human eye and penetrates within the very recesses of your brain.

"Be the theory true or false, the phenomena exercise a deep influence over me, and I have never ceased to regard this boy as one inextricably interwoven with myself and my own fortunes; I felt a degree of dread at his contact, which all my conscious superiority of mind and intellect could not allay. In vain have I endeavored to reason myself out of these delusions, but in the realm of imagination reason is inoperative; as well might a painter try to commit to his palette the fleeting colors of the rainbow. Shall I own to you that in moments of illness or depression this terror magnified itself to giant proportions, and a thousand wild and incongruous fancies would fill my mind? I bethought me of involving him in such difficulty that he would no longer be at large; as a prisoner or an exile, I should never see him more. Every snare I tried was a failure; the temptations that were most adapted to his nature he resisted; the wiles I threw around him he escaped from. Was there not a fate in all this? a.s.suredly there was and is, Michel. I cannot tell you the relief of mind I should feel if this boy had shared the fate of your patriots, and that the great sea was to roll between him and Europe forever. Twenty times a day I think of Dirk Hatteraick's expression with respect to Brown: 'That boy has been a rock ahead of me all through life;' and be a.s.sured that the characters of fiction are often powerful teachers.

"And now to my narrative. The same note which requested my visit at Verona begged of me, if I possibly could accomplish it, to provide some English person who should sit up with the sick youth and nurse him. I was not sorry to receive this commission; I wished to learn more about this boy than the confessional at such a time could teach; and could I only find a suitable agent, this would not be difficult.

Chance favored me strangely enough. Amongst the prisoners taken at Ancona I found an Irish fellow, who, it appears, had taken service in the Piedmontese navy. He had been some years in America and the West Indies, and from the scattered remarks that he let fall, I perceived that he was a man of shrewd and not over-scrupulous nature. He comprehended me in an instant; and, although I was most guarded in giving my instructions, the fellow read my intentions at once. This shrewdness might, in other circ.u.mstances, have its inconveniences, but here it gave me no alarm. I was the means of his liberation, and were he troublesome, I could consign him to the prison again,--to the galleys, if needed.