The Daltons Volume II Part 29

"The surgeon tells me that there is internal bleeding," said he, "and that, should it return with any degree of violence, all chance of recovery is hopeless. Let us look the danger boldly in the face, then, Dalton; and, while I have the time, let me tell Walstein all that I have learned since we parted. The letter I will confide to your safe keeping till such time as it can be forwarded without risk of discovery."

"Is there necessity for such precaution?" asked Frank.

"Can you ask me the question?"

"Then how am I to write it?" said he.

"Simply from my dictation," replied the other, calmly. "The sentiments will not be yours, but mine. The mere act of the pen, for which these fingers are too weak, can never wound the susceptibility of even _your_ loyalty. You are not satisfied with this?"

Frank shook his head dubiously.

"Then leave me where I am. I ask no companions.h.i.+p, nor friends.h.i.+p either,--or, if you prefer it, hasten to Milan and denounce me as a traitor. My character is well enough known not to need corroboration to your charge; the allegation will never hurt me, and it may serve _you_, Ay, Herr Lieutenant, it will prove an opportune escape for the disgrace of this unlucky night. They will forgive you much for such a disclosure."

Frank's temper would have been insufficient to bear such an insult as this, had not the words been spoken by one already excited to the madness of fever, and whose eye now flashed with the wild glare of mania.

It was long before Frank could calm down the pa.s.sionate excitement of the sick man, and fit him for the task he wished to execute; and even then Ravitzky undertook it in a sullen, resentful spirit that seemed to say that nothing short of the necessity would have reduced him to such a confidence. Nor was this all. Pain and nervous irritability together made him difficult, and occasionally impossible, to understand. The names of people and places of Hungarian origin Frank in vain endeavored to spell; the very utmost he could do being to follow the rapid utterance with which the other at times spoke, and impart something like consistency to his wild, unconnected story.

That Ravitzky had been employed in secret communications with some of the Hungarian leaders was plain enough, and that he had held intercourse with many not yet decided how to act was also apparent. The tangled web of intrigue was, however, too intricate for faculties laboring as his were; and what between his own wanderings and Frank's misconceptions, the doc.u.ment became as mysterious as an oracle. Perhaps Frank was not sorry for this obscurity; or, perhaps, like the lady who consoled herself for the indiscretion of keeping a lover's picture by the a.s.surance that "it was not like him," he felt an equal satisfaction in thinking that the subject of his ma.n.u.script could never throw any light upon any scheme that ever existed. Now it ran on about the feelings of the Banat population, and their readiness to take up arms; now it discussed the fordage #of rivers in Transylvania. Here was an account of the arms in the a.r.s.enal of Arad; there a suggestion how to cut off Nugent's corps on the Platen See. At times it seemed as if a great Sclav revolt were in contemplation; at others the cause appeared that of the Hungarian n.o.bles alone, anxious to regain all the privileges of the old feudalism. "At all events, it is rebellion," thought Frank; and heartily glad was he when the task was completed, and everything save the address appended. It was now sealed, and by Ravitzky's advice deposited within the linings of Frank's pelisse, till such time as a safe opportunity might offer of forwarding it to Walstein.

The task occupied some hours; and when it was completed, so tired was Frank by former exertion and excitement, that he lay down on the floor, and with his head on the sick man's bed, fell fast asleep. Such had been his eagerness to finish this lengthy doc.u.ment, that he had never perceived that he was watched as he wrote, and that from the little copse beside the window a man had keenly observed him for several hours long.

Ravitzky, too, fell into a heavy slumber; and now, as both slept, a noiseless foot crossed the floor, and a man in the dark dress of a priest drew nigh the bedside. Waiting for some seconds as if to a.s.sure himself of the soundness of their sleep, he bent down and examined their features. Of the cadet he took little notice; but when his eyes fell upon Frank's face, pale and exhausted as he lay, he almost started back with astonishment, and for several minutes he seemed as if trying to disabuse himself of an illusion. Even the uniform appeared to surprise him, for he examined its details with the greatest care. As he stood thus, with the pelisse in his hand, he seemed suddenly to remember the letter he had seen placed within the lining; and then, as suddenly drawing out his penknife, he made a small aperture In the seam, and withdrew the paper. He was about to replace the pelisse upon the bed, when, by a second thought, as it were, he tore off the envelope of the letter, and reinserted it within the lining.

A single glance at it appeared to convey the whole tenor of its contents, and his dark eyes ran over the words with eager haste; then, turning away, he moved cautiously from the room. Once in the free air again, he reopened the paper, his sallow features seeming to light up with a kind of pa.s.sionate l.u.s.tre as he traced the lines. "It is not--it cannot be without a meaning that we are thus forever meeting in life!"

cried he; "these are the secrets by which destiny works its purpose, and we blindly call them accident! Even the savage knows better, and deems him an enemy who crosses his path too frequently. Ay, and it will come to this one day," muttered he, slowly; "he or I,----he or I." Repeating this over and over, he slowly returned to the villa.

CHAPTER XV. A VILLA AND ITS COMPANY

Having told our readers that the villa was called La Rocca, it is perhaps needless that we should say that the lady was our old friend Lady Hester, who, under the spiritual guidance of the Canon of the Duomo, was now completing her religious education, while Lord Norwood was fain to escape the importunity of duns and the impertinence of creditors by a few weeks' retirement in this secluded region. Not that this was his only inducement. For some time back he had pressed his claim on various members of his Government for place or employment. He had in vain represented the indignity of a peer reduced to beggary, or the scarcely better alternative of play for support He had tried--unsuccessfully, however--every sort of cajolery, menace, and flattery, to obtain something; and after successively offering his services for or against Carlism in Spain, with Russia or against her in the Caucasus, with twenty minor schemes in Mexico, Sicily, Greece, and Cuba, he at last determined on making Northern Italy the sphere of his abilities, wisely calculating that before the game was played out he should see enough to know what would be the winning side.

An accidental meeting with D'Esmonde, which renewed this old intimacy, had decided him on taking this step. The Abbe had told him that the English Government of the day was secretly favorable to the movement; and although, from the necessities of State policy and the requirements of treaties, unable to afford any open or avowed a.s.sistance, would still gladly recognize his partic.i.p.ation in the struggle, and, in the event of success, liberally reward him.

"A new kingdom of Upper Italy, with Milan for the capital, and Viscount Norwood the resident minister plenipotentiary," there was the whole episode, in three volumes, with its "plot," "catastrophe," and "virtue rewarded," in appropriate fas.h.i.+on; and as times were bad, neither racing nor cards profitable, patriotism was the only unexplored resource he could think of.

Not that my Lord had much faith in the Abbe. Far from it. He thought all priests were knaves; but he also thought "that he 'll not cheat _me_.

No, no; too wide awake for that He 'll not try that dodge. Knows where I 've graduated. Remembers too well what school I come of." He was perfectly candid, too, in this mode of reasoning, calmly telling D'Esmonde his opinions of himself, and frankly showing that any attempt at a "jockey" of him must inevitably fail. The Abbe, to do him justice, took all this candor well,--affected to deem it the mere ebullition of honest John Bullism; and so they were well met. At times, indeed, the priest's enthusiasm carried him a little away, and he ventured to speculate on the glorious career that conversion would open to the n.o.ble Viscount, and the splendid fruits such a change would be certain to produce. Norwood was, however, too practical for such remote benefits; and if the Abbe couldn't "make the thing safe," as he styled it, would not listen to this suggestion. A rich Italian princess,--there were two or three such prizes in the wheel,--or an infanta of Spain, might solace many a theological doubt; but Norwood said there was no use in quoting the "fathers" when he was thinking only of the "daughters."

And the priest wisely seemed to take him at his word. As for Lady Hester, political intrigue was quite new to her, and, consequently, very delightful. Since the Cardinal's departure for Rome, she had begun to weary somehow of the ordinances of her new faith. The canonico but ill replaced his Eminence. He had none of that velvety smoothness of manner, that soft and gentle persuasiveness of the dignitary He could neither smile away a doubt nor resolve a difficulty by a "bon mot" It is but fair to say that he was no ascetic, that he loved good cheer and pleasant converse, and was free to let others partic.i.p.ate in the enjoyment. Lady Hester, was, however, too much habituated to such indulgences to reckon them other than necessaries. D'Esmonde, if he had had time, might have compensated for all these deficiencies, but he was far too deeply engaged with other cares, and his air of grave preoccupation was more suited to awe her Ladys.h.i.+p than suggest ease in his presence. And now we come to Albert Jekyl,--the last member of this incongruous family. Nothing was less to his taste than any fanaticism, whether it took the form of religion or politics. All such extravagances were sure to interfere with society, impede intercourse, and disturb that delightful calm of existence wherein vices ripen, and where men of his stamp gather the harvest.

To overthrow a Government, to disturb the settled foundations of a State, were, to his thinking, a species of _inconvenance_ that savored of intense vulgarity; and he cla.s.sified such anarchists with men who would like to smash the lamps, tear down the hangings, and destroy the decorations of a _salon_ in which they were asked to pa.s.s the evening, preferring to sit down amid ruin and wreck rather than eat their supper at a well-ordered and well-furnished board.

To Jekyl's eyes it was a very nice world as it was, if people would only let it alone. "A world of bright eyes and soft tresses and white shoulders, with Donizetti's music and Moet's champagne, was not to be despised, after all." He had no sympathies, therefore, with these disturbers; but he was too well bred ever to oppose himself to the wishes of the company, and so he seemed to concur with what he could not prevent. He could have wished that the Italians would take a lesson from the Swiss, who only revolt when there is nothing else to do, and never take to cutting each other's throats during the season when there are travellers to be cheated; "but, perhaps," said he, "they will soon get enough of it, and learn that their genius lies more in ballets and bonbons than in bombs and rockets."

Of such various hopes and feelings were the party made up who now awaited D'Esmonde's presence at the supper-table. It was past midnight, and they had been expecting him with impatience for above an hour back.

Twice had the canonico fallen asleep, and started up with terror at what he called a "fantasma di fame." Jekyl had eaten sardines and oysters till he was actually starving. Lady Hester was fidgety and fretful, as waiting always made her; while Norwood walked from the room to the terrace, and out upon the gra.s.s to listen, uneasy lest any mischance should have befallen one who was so deeply involved in their confidences.

"It is but three or four and twenty miles to Milan," muttered Norwood; "he might easily have been here by this."

"The road is infested with banditti," growled out the padre.

"Banditti!" said Norwood, contemptuously. But whether the sneer was intended for the cut-throats' courage, or the folly of men who would expect any booty from a priest, is hard to say; clearly the padre took it in the latter sense, for he rejoined,----

"Even so, Milordo. When I was cure of Bergamo, they stopped me one night on the Lecco road. A bishop was on a visit with me, and I had gone up to Milan to procure some fish for our Friday's dinner. Oime! what a turbot it was, and how deliciously it looked at the bottom of the calessino, with the lobsters keeping guard at either side of it, and a small basket of Genoa oysters,--those rock beauties that melt in the mouth like a ripe strawberry! There they were, and I had fallen asleep, and was dreaming pleasantly. I thought I saw St Cecilia dressing 'filets de sole aux fines herbes,' and that she was asking me for sweet marjoram, when suddenly I felt a sharp stick, as it were, in my side; and starting up, I felt the point--the very point--of a thin stiletto between my ribs.

"'Scusi, padre mio,' said a whining voice, and a great black-bearded rascal touched his cap to me with one hand, while with the other he held the dagger close to my side, a comrade all the time covering me with a blunderbuss on the opposite side of the cart,--'scusi, padre mio, but we want your pursel' 'Maladetto sia--' 'Don't curse,' said he, beggingly,--'don't curse, padre, we shall only have to spend more money in ma.s.ses; but be quick, out with the "quattrini."'

"'I have nothing but the Church fund for the poor.' said I, angrily.

"'We are the poor, holy father,' whined the rogue.

"'I mean the poor who hate to do evil,' said I.

"'It grieves us to the soul when we are driven to it!' sighed the scoundrel; and he gave me a gentle touch with the point of the stiletto.

Dark as it was, I could see the wretch grin as I screamed out.

"'Be quick,' growled out the other, roughly, as he brought the wide mouth of the trombone close to my face. There was no help for it I had to give up my little leathern pouch with all my quarter's gatherings.

Many a warning did I give the villains of the ill-luck that followed sacrilege,--how palsies and blindness and lameness came upon the limbs of those who robbed the Church. They went on counting the coins without so much as minding me. At last, when they had fairly divided the booty, the first fellow said, 'One favor more, holy father, before we part.'

"'Would you take my coat or my ca.s.sock?' said I, indignantly.

"'Heaven forbid it!' said he, piously; 'we want only your blessing, padre mio.'

"'My blessing on thieves and robbers!'

"'Who need it more, holy father?' said he, with another stick of the point,----'who need it more?'

"I screamed aloud, and the wretches this time laughed outright at my misery. Meanwhile they both uncovered and knelt down in the road before me. Oime! oime! There was no help for it I had to descend from the calessino!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: 208]

"And did you bless them, father?" asked Jekyl.

"That did I! for when I tried in the middle of the benediction to slip in a muttering of 'Confundite ipsos qui quaerunt animam meam,' the whining rogue popped out his accursed weapon, and cried, 'Take care, holy father! We only bargain for the blessing.'"

"They left you the fish, however?" said Norwood.

"Not an oyster!" sighed the priest.

"'You would not have us eat flesh on the fast, padre mio!' said the hypocritical knave. 'Poor fellows like us have no dispensation, nor the money to buy it' And so they packed up everything, and then, helping me to my seat, wished me a pleasant journey, and departed."

"I am curious to know if you really forgave them, padre?" said Jekyl, with an air of serious inquiry.

"Have I not said so!" rejoined the priest, testily.

"Why, you tried to insinuate something that surely was not a blessing, father."