The Daltons Volume I Part 60

"But I have changed my mind. I have resolved not to accept this a.s.sistance. It is better far better that I should not."

"It is too late to think of that now," said he, interrupting, and speaking with some slight degree of irritation.

"How too late? What do you mean?"

"That I have already told Morlache the whole story, and obtained his promise for the loan."

"Oh, sir! why have you done this?" cried she, in a voice of anguish.

"I had your free permission for it, Miss Dalton. When we parted this morning, the matter was fully agreed on between us; but still, if you desire to retract, your secret is in safe keeping. Morlache never betrays a confidence."

"And he has heard my name!" cried she, in a broken, sobbing tone.

"Not for the first time, be a.s.sured. Even Croesus looked up from his ingots to ask if it were 'la belle Dalton;' and when I said 'Yes,'

'That's enough,' replied he; 'would that all my moneys had so safe investment!' But stay; there is Purvis yonder. He is pretending to examine an eye-gla.s.s in that shop opposite, but I see well that he is there only en vedette."

"What shall I do?" exclaimed the poor girl, now torn by impulses and emotions the most opposite.

"One thing you must do at once," said Jekyl; "get out of the carriage and visit two or three of the shops, as if in quest of some article of jewelry. His anxiety to learn the precise object of your search will soon draw him from his 'lair.'"

The decision of this counsel, almost like a command, so far imposed upon Kate that she at once descended, and took Jekyl's arm along the bridge.

They had not gone many yards when the short, little, shuffling step of Purvis was heard behind them. Lingering to gaze at some of the splendid objects exposed for sale, they at last reached a very splendid stall, where diamonds, pearls, and rubies lay in heaps of gorgeous profusion.

And now Purvis had stationed himself exactly behind them, with his head most artistically adjusted to hear everything that pa.s.sed between them.

Jekyl seemed to feel his presence as if by an instinct, and without even turning his eye from the gla.s.s case, said, in a voice of some disparagement,

"All modern settings! very l.u.s.trous very brilliant, but not at all what we are looking for."

Kate made no reply; for, while she had scruples about abetting a mere scheme, she was not the less eager to be free of the presence of the "Great Inquisitor."

"That, perhaps," said Jekyl, pointing to a magnificent cross of brilliants, "would not go ill with the necklace, although the stones are smaller. Say something, anything," added he, in a lower tone; "the spell is working."

"That is very handsome," said Kate, pointing at a venture to an object before her.

"So it is," said Jekyl, quickly. "Let us see what value they place upon it. Oh, here is Mr. Purvis; how fortunate! Perhaps in all Florence there is not one so conversant with all that concerns taste and elegance, and, as an old resident, happily exempt from all the arts and wiles played off upon our countrymen."

"How d'ye do d'ye do?" cried Purvis, shaking hands with both. "You heard of the bl-bl-blunder I made last night about the Ar-Archduke?"

"Not a word of it," replied Jekyl.

"I told him he was a-a-a fool," cried Purvis, with a scream and a cackle that very constantly followed any confession of an impertinence.

"Meno male!" exclaimed Jekyl. "Even princes ought to hear truth sometimes; but you can help us here. Mr. Purvis, do you see that chatelaine yonder, with a large emerald pendant; could you ascertain the price of it for Miss Dalton? They'll not attempt to be extortionate upon you, which they would, a.s.suredly, if she entered the shop."

"To be sure; I'll do it with pl-pleasure. Who is it for?"

"That 's a secret, Mr. Purvis; but you shall hear it afterwards."

"I guess al-ready," said Scroope, with a cunning leer. "You 're going to be m-m-m-married, ain't you?"

"Mr. Purvis, Mr. Purvis, I must call you to order," said Jekyl, who saw that very little more would make the scene unendurable to Kate.

"I hope it 's not an It-It-Italian fellow; for they 're all as poor as Laza-Laza-Laza--"

"Yes, yes, of course; we know that. Your discretion is invaluable," said Jekyl; "but pray step in, and ask this question for us."

"I'll tell who'll do better," said Purvis, who, once full of a theme, never paid any attention to what was said by others.

"Midche-Midche-Midche-k-k-off; he owns half of--"

"Never mind what he owns, but remember that Miss Dalton is waiting all this time," said Jekyl, who very rarely so far lost command of his temper; and at last Purvis yielded, and entered the shop.

"Come now," said Jekyl to his companion; "it will take him full five minutes to say 'chatelaine,' and before that we shall be safely housed."

And with these words he hurried her along, laughing, in spite of all her anxieties, at the absurdity of the adventure. "He 'll see the carriage when he comes out," added he, "and so I 'll tell the coachman to drive slowly on towards the Pitti." And thus, without asking her consent, he a.s.sumed the full guidance at once; and, ere she well knew how or why, she found herself within the dark and dusty precincts of Morlache's shop.

Jekyl never gave Kate much time for hesitation, but hurried her along through a narrow pa.s.sage, from which a winding flight of stone steps led downwards to a considerable distance, and at last opened upon a neat little chamber on the level of the Arno, the window opening on the stream, and only separated from it by a little terrace, covered with geraniums in full flower. There was a strange undulating motion that seemed communicated from the stream to the apartment, which Jekyl at once explained to his companion as a contrivance for elevating and depressing the chamber with the changes in the current of the river; otherwise the room must have been under water for a considerable portion of the year. While he descanted on the ingenuity of the mechanism, and pointed attention to the portraits along the walls, the Kings and Kaisers with whom Morlache had held moneyed relations, the minutes slipped on, and Jekyl' s powers as a talker were called upon to speak against time, the figety nervousness of his manner, and the frequent glances he bestowed at the timepiece, showing how impatiently he longed for the Jew's arrival. To all Kate's scruples he opposed some plausible pretext, a.s.suring her that, if she desired it, no mention should be made of the loan; that the visit might be as one of mere curiosity, to see some of those wonderful gems which had once graced the crowns of royalty; and that, in any case, the brief delay would disembarra.s.s them on the score of Purvis, whose spirit of inquiry would have called him off in some other direction. At last, when now upwards of half an hour had elapsed, and no sound nor sight bore token of the Jew's coming, Jekyl resolved to go in search of him; and requesting Kate to wait patiently for a few minutes, he left the room.

At first, when she found herself alone, every noise startled and terrified her; the minutes, as she watched the clock, seemed drawn out to hours. She listened with an aching anxiety for Jekyl's return, while, with a sorrowing heart, she reproached herself for ever having come there. To this state of almost feverish excitement succeeded a low and melancholy depression, in which the time pa.s.sed without her consciousness; the half-dulled sounds of the city, the monotonous plash of the stream as it flowed past, the distant cries of the boatmen as they guided their swift barks down the strong current, aiding and increasing a feeling that was almost lethargic. Already the sun had sunk below the hills, and the tall palaces were throwing their giant shadows across the river, the presage of approaching night, and still she sat there all alone. Jekyl had never returned, nor had any one descended the stairs since his departure. Twice had she shaken off the dreamy stupor that was over her, and tried to find the door of the chamber, but, concealed in the wainscoting, it defied her efforts; and now, worn out with anxiety and disappointed, she sat down beside the window, gazing listlessly at the water, and wondering when and how her captivity was to end.

The lamps were now being lighted on the quays, and long columns of light streaked the dark river. Across these a black object was seen to glide, and as it pa.s.sed, Kate could perceive it was a boat that advanced slowly against the current, and headed up the stream. As she watched, it came nearer and nearer; and now she could hear distinctly the sound of voices talking in French. What, however, was her surprise when, instead of making for the centre arches of the bridge, the boat was vigorously impelled across the river, and its course directed towards the very place where she sat?

However painful her situation before, now it became downright agony.

It was clear there were persons coming; in another moment she would be discovered, unable to explain by what course of events she had come there, and thus exposed to every surmise and suspicion that chance or calumny might originate. In that brief but terrible moment what self-accusings, what reproaches of Jekyl crossed her mind; and yet all these were as nothing to the misery which coming events seemed full of.

For a second or two she stood irresolute, and then with something like an instinct of escape, she stepped out upon the little terrace that supported the flowers, and, trembling with fear, took her stand beneath the shadow of one of the great b.u.t.tresses of the bridge. The frail and half-rotten timbers creaked and bent beneath her weight, and close under her feet rolled along the dark river, with a low and sullen sound like moaning. Meanwhile the boat came nearer, and slowly gliding along, was at last brought up at the window. Two figures pa.s.sed into the chamber, and the boatmen, as if performing a long-accustomed task, rowed out a few lengths into the stream to wait.

From the window, which still remained open, a stream of light now issued, and Kate's quick hearing could detect the rustling sound of papers on the table.

"There they are," said a voice, the first accents of which she knew to belong to the Abbe D'Esmonde. "There they are, Signor Morlache. We have no concealments nor reserve with you. Examine them for yourself. You will find reports from nearly every part of the kingdom; some more, some less favorable in their bearings, but all agreeing in the main fact, that the cause is a great one, and the success all but certain."

"I have told you before," said the Jew, speaking in a thick, guttural utterance, "that my sympathies never lead me into expense. Every solvent cause is good, every bankrupt one the reverse, in my estimation."

"Even upon that ground I am ready to meet you. The committee--"

"Ay, who are the committee?" interrupted the Jew, hastily.

"The committee contains some of the first Catholic names of Ireland, men of landed fortune and great territorial influence, together with several of the higher clergy."

"The bishops?"

"The bishops, almost to a man, are with us in heart; but their peculiar position requires the most careful and delicate conduct. No turn of fortune must implicate them, or our cause is lost forever."

"If your cause be all you say it is, if the nationality be so strong, and the energies so powerful as you describe, why not try the issue, as the Italians and the Hungarians are about to do?" said Morlache. "I can understand a loan for a defined and real object, the purchase of military stores and equipment, to provide arms and ammunition, and I can understand how the lender, too, could calculate his risk of profit or loss on the issue of the struggle; but here you want half a million sterling, and for what?"

"To win a kingdom!" cried D'Esmonde, enthusiastically. "To bring back to the fold of the Church the long-lost sheep; and make Ireland, as she once was, the centre of holy zeal and piety!"

"I am not a pope, nor a cardinal, not even a monsignore," said Morlache, with a bitter laugh. "You must try other arguments with me; and once more I say, why not join that party who already are willing to risk their lives in the venture?"

"Have I not told you what and who they are who form this party?" said D'Esmonde, pa.s.sionately. "Read those papers before you. Study the secret reports sent from nearly every parish in the kingdom. In some you will find the sworn depositions of men on their death-beds, the last words their lips have uttered on earth, all concurring to show that Ireland has no hope save in the Church. The men who now stir up the land to revolt are not devoid of courage or capacity. They are bold, and they are able, but they are infidel. They would call upon their countrymen in the name of past a.s.sociations, the wrongs of bygone centuries; they would move the heart by appeals, touching enough, Heaven knows, to the galling sores of serfdom, but they will not light one fire upon the altar; they will not carry the only banner that should float in the van of an Irish army. Their bold denouncings may warn some; their poetry will, perhaps, move others; but their prose and verse, like themselves, will be forgotten in a few years, and, save a few gra.s.sy mounds in a village churchyard, or a prisoner's plaint sent over the sea from a land of banishment, nothing will remain of Ireland's patriots."

"England is too powerful for such a.s.sailants," said the Jew.