L'Arrabiata and Other Tales Part 48

"Do you really believe that Eugenie?"

"Yes, I do."

"And if I had told you then, what escaped from my lips, the first evening we again met, what would have been your answer?"

"That question, is a matter of conscience, my dear friend," she replied, carelessly, "which even up here a hundred feet above the every day world you are not justified in asking. Before I could give you a clear and concise answer, I should have to read through some chapters in the book of my life, which I have not perused for many a year." "And that truly is a trouble which I cannot expect you to take," he replied in a pained, harsh tone. "Besides it would be useless labour as the writing must have long since faded. I forgot that though the chapters in my book, end in a blank, yours have a continuation." Saying these words he leant over the parapet, and the apple he held in his hand rolled as if by accident over the edge. In its fall it struck one of the many pinnacles which surrounded the spire, and broke into several pieces, which flew, describing wide curves, into the street.

"What have you done Valentine?" exclaimed Eugenie; "where shall we be able to steal another apple? Only fruits of stone can be plucked here.

But now let us hasten down."

"You are right," he replied, indifferently, "here every thing is of stone; I did not think of that." Then he remained silent till they reached the streets. The gloom however, which had settled on his countenance, could not hold out against the unconstrained gaiety of his companion. His brow cleared before they had taken many steps on their way to the inn. She had taken his arm through the narrow tortuous streets, her cloak, which in the warm suns.h.i.+ne had become too heavy for her, hung loosely from her shoulders. As they walked along, they joked merrily at the smell of the new wine, which met them at the entrance of every cellar and courtyard and even pervaded the precincts of the old dilapidated church, and at the large vats which obstructed their way.

When they reached the inn, the hour of the table d'hote had pa.s.sed, so they sat down alone in the large room, at a small table, where they were amply provided with the best wine of the country; but Eugenie wished for a bottle of that year's vintage. She said she longed to taste that beverage the scent of which she had so abundantly enjoyed during her walk--

When she had tasted it, she praised the sweet and turbid drink.

"It resembles first love," remarked Valentine, "beware of its strength; it will turn your head."

"At my age there is no danger of that," she replied, smiling. "I am an old woman already, and take my daily nap after dinner. To-day this bad habit will be of great service to me."

She then retired to a room prepared for her, and Valentine remained alone in company of the wine and his thoughts. The uneasiness of the morning had pa.s.sed, and he no longer pondered on what would be the end of all this. The voice of a good genius secretly whispered in his ear that fate now smiled on him. He looked around, as if to ascertain that no one was near, and then hastily took a sip from Eugenie's gla.s.s, with the devout superst.i.tion that it would help him to divine her thoughts.

As however no enlightenment on this point was vouchsafed him, he consoled himself with the thought that without doubt, she was asleep at that moment, and so could think of nothing. He represented her to himself reclining on the sofa, her small feet crossed, and her head drooping on her shoulder. A sensation of happiness thrilled through him; he felt as if he must hasten upstairs, kneel before the fair sleeper, and press her hand to his lips. But he soon rejected this thought, lighted a cigar and patiently waited for Eugenie's appearance.

It certainly seemed as if the new wine had confirmed its reputation, for more than an hour pa.s.sed before the door was opened, and his fair companion re-appeared.

"Good morning," she exclaimed, "how long have I slept? truly this wine though it seems so harmless, is even in its cradle as powerful as an offspring of the G.o.ds. It will be late before we reach the home of your fair ones."

"We never can reach it late enough," he replied, laughing. "Think of what you promised me on your honour as a knight," she said, with a menacing gesture, "and hasten our departure. What a careless mother I am, instead of spending my poor boy's last holiday with him, I stroll about the country making the acquaintance of new wine, and old churches."

In spite of Valentine's efforts to hasten their departure the day had waned before they reached their destination. The fog had gathered again, when the carriage slowly ascended the hill on which the town was built, and rattled over the bad pavement. Valentine lifted Eugenie from the carriage when it stopped at the inn, and silently walked by her side through the streets to the doctor's house. She remarked that he was greatly agitated, and she almost felt pity for him, but they had already mounted the stone steps which led up to the neat little house, the knocker had sounded, and a moment afterwards the door was opened by a stout little man with large gold spectacles.

"Why, what's this!" cried the merry old gentleman, pus.h.i.+ng back his spectacles. "What gives me the unexpected pleasure of seeing you so soon again? I hope there is nothing wrong about the horse----but I see you have brought company with you, and I have left you standing out there in this rude manner. You must excuse me, fair lady; you see we are still barbarians in this remote corner of the world. I beg you will honour my humble roof. But now tell me seriously my dear friend _is_ there anything the matter with Almansor? Unfortunately you will find no one but myself at home, my dear Madam; my daughters will be inconsolable when they hear that during their absence----but I will send for them this very moment; but stop a bit! why confound me, I remember now, I have already sent for them, they will be here in a few minutes. To the left Madam if you please, will you kindly walk in here, most honoured guests?"

They entered the room, the door of which the lively little man had opened for them. In the centre stood a table laid for four, on which there were cold viands and a bottle of new wine. The whole was lighted up by the faint twilight which stole through the window. "Now you can judge for yourself, my most honoured friend, how we are treated by our children," resumed the doctor. "Those naughty girls of mine run away, and leave their papa to wait for his supper. We will play them a trick however, nothing but the empty dishes, shall they find on their return.

But what a fool I am, inviting you to supper without considering that this scanty meal is in no way fit for such charming visitors.

Unfortunately the cook is gone to summon them, so there is no one to----But please to be seated at least, take off your hat and cloak, and make yourself comfortable--Welcome to L---- most honoured lady. Now my friend _do_ tell me has the horse?"----

"I can relieve your mind on that point my dear doctor," Valentine at last interposed. "I value Almansor's excellent qualities more than ever, since he has found favour in the eyes of my betrothed, to whom I have the pleasure of introducing you." Eugenie bowed to their amazed host. She checked the words which had risen to her lips, and only a severe look reproved Valentine for this arbitrary a.s.sertion, so contrary to their treaty.

Had the little doctor entertained other hopes since yesterday's visit?

Had he attached greater importance to it than mere horse-dealing?--With a low bow he stammered forth his congratulations, and thanked Valentine for honouring him with this visit. However he soon, recovered his jovial equanimity and laughingly said: "Well, you are the most complete hypocrite and false hearted friend! Did you not on this very spot abuse matrimony so vehemently, that you even alarmed, and terrified such an old widower as I am? and then to come next day accompanied by your betrothed----Well, she certainly is bewitching enough to convert a heathen.--Pardon me, pardon me. Madam."

Valentine laughed. "I can a.s.sure you, doctor; that none but you are responsible, if after all my yesterday's heresy has been retracted."

"I? you are joking."

"No, I am speaking in good earnest. For you have, or rather your horse has been of great a.s.sistance to me in winning this fair lady's hand.

This morning when mounted on Almansor, I rode up to the window behind which stood my beloved one, the sight melted the hardness of her heart, and she acknowledged herself conquered. Hardly had I recovered my senses, which were somewhat confused by this unexpected victory than I declared that you should be the first person to hear of our engagement, so we ordered a carriage and drove to L---- and now permit your grateful and overjoyed friend to embrace you."

"Ah!" exclaimed the delighted doctor, "my fancy for horses has caused me many vexations, but this master-stroke of Almansor's makes ample amends for it all. No my dear young lady, you need not take it amiss that your betrothed has divulged your secret. I esteem you all the more highly since I find that you acknowledge a man to be only complete on horseback. Now leave it all to me, my eye ranges all over the country, and if some day I should find a lady's horse worthy of cantering by the side of Almansor----"

"It shall be _mine_; let us shake hands over it, doctor, and the first time I ride with my wife, you shall accompany us."

"Agreed," cried the little man, and energetically shook hands with his guest. "But where are those girls, confound them; just when all is ready to celebrate this happy event they are wanting."

"Are your daughters on a visit in the town?" asked Eugenie.

"Yes, my dear young lady, they have been invited to one of the autumnal grape gatherings, by a friend of mine, who has daughters of the same age. I have no doubt, that the affair will finish off with a dance; however I exercised my paternal authority, and strictly enjoined them to come home before evening. I will not again allow them to dance at this season of the year, for every time they have done so, they have brought home bad colds. Now they will miss you delightful visit, and it serves the disobedient hussies quite right--but they really must come I will have them fetched home instantly! halloo Henry!" he shouted to a farm-servant, whom he had seen pa.s.sing, from the window; "just run over to the Kitzinger garden and tell Margaret to bring them home immediately. Now you see," he continued, turning to his guests, who sat side by side on the sofa without looking at each other, "how little respect a father enjoys. You must educate your children with more severity. Ah! if my wife still lived, it would all be different."

Eugenie blushed and remained silent, but Valentine exclaimed; "No, no Doctor, don't disturb your daughters in their merry making. It is true that I have praised them so much to my dear Eugenie that she will not leave L---- without having made their acquaintance, but there will be time for that to-morrow, for the moon does not make its appearance, and I hear that we shall be well provided for at the inn of the Crown."--"Are you not of my opinion darling," he said turning to Eugenie, and suddenly approaching his lips to hers.

"Valentine," said the young woman, and drew back quickly, "you seem to have forgotten what you promised me."--"Now what do you say to that Doctor? She reminds me of my promise, and does not keep hers. Eugenie have you not vowed to agree to all my wishes, and are you justified in refusing a kiss to your betrothed. Come now let us seal our engagement as students seal their fellows.h.i.+p. We have not yet done so."

"That is right!" exclaimed their host. "This is only new wine, but in the cellar...."

"Don't trouble yourself my dear friend; is not new wine sweet, turbid, and intoxicating like first love. And you must know, Doctor, that the fair charmer before you has been wors.h.i.+pped by me from the time I entered college and though fate parted us in later days. 'Old love fades not,' as the people say, and you know that 'the voice of the people, is the voice of the G.o.ds.' So We will perform the sacred act with none other but new wine. Fill your gla.s.s. Doctor!"

He had risen with these words and again turned towards Eugenie, with two full gla.s.ses in his hand. She sat on the sofa suffused with blushes, and her eyes fixed on the ground. Maidenly confusion sealed her lips, she tried to speak, but could not utter a word, so she took the gla.s.s mechanically. He then knelt before her, twined his arm within hers after the fas.h.i.+on of the students and emptied his gla.s.s at one draught. She took a sip from hers with half averted face. Valentine then threw away his gla.s.s and kissed her lips.[6]

"That's right," said the doctor. "You need not blush fair lady, if an old man like myself is present at so solemn an act. All I ask as a reward for my good offices, is that I should be permitted to a.s.sist at the wedding."

Valentine silently nodded, and remained standing for a while before her, pensively gazing on her calm brow.

"My dear Doctor," he then began, "you must make some allowance for two people who are nearly out of their senses with joy. It is no trifling matter, I a.s.sure my dear friend, when one's betrothal is only of a few hours standing; particularly as this cruel lady love of mine tormented me so relentlessly with her wicked tricks, and her apparent indifference struck me dumb, and made me feel as timorous as a bashful youth. It was so years ago, when she was still in her mother's house, and I used often to think that I should no longer be able to stand it, but must plunge into the water to cool my smarting wounds. Then when we again met after many years of separation she was just the same. How often, by some jesting word has she not checked the confession which hovered on my lips, that my feelings for her had remained unaltered; and who knows how all would have turned out, had it not been for you, my dear Doctor. Now, however, you see she has quite changed, and you would never believe how much of subtleness and womanly art lies hidden beneath those demure eyelids."

"Nay, you calumniate me, dear Valentine," she said, and raised her beautiful moist eyes to his. "It is only natural that I should not show my feelings so openly here, in a house which is yet strange to me, though it may not appear so to you."

"And whose is the fault, if not mine," cried the doctor, "or rather of those disobedient damsels who leave all the duties of a host to me."

"Well, where are they? what are they about, why are they not with you Margaret?" he angrily asked the cook who had now entered the room.

"You see. Sir, the master and mistress of the house pressed the young ladies to stay for the evening," replied the old woman staring at the two visitors with wondering eyes. "They promised that the young ladies should not dance too much, and Miss Clara thought that if I put it in that light to you Sir!..."

"Deuce take it," cried the doctor, in a pa.s.sion, "but they _must_ come home immediately!"

"Nay, my dear Doctor," Eugenie said, entreatingly, "Pray do not burthen our consciences with this cruelty."

"Heaven forbid," Valentine hastily added. "Tomorrow there will be time enough."

"Well, let us go after them," proposed the doctor, "what do you say to closing this eventful day with a dance?"

"Are we not better here," replied Valentine, "we do not know your friends, and would greatly prefer remaining another hour under your hospitable roof if you will permit us to do so. Is it not so Eugenie?"

She nodded. The old gentleman then rubbed his hands delightedly, and declared that he had not felt so pleased for many a year. He sent the maid into the cellar and the larder and made her bring all that was to be found in the house, in spite of the entreaties of his visitors not to make so much ado for them. When they were at last sitting gaily and comfortably together, the doctor exclaimed with a look of satisfaction: "Now if the girls but knew what they have missed by their disobedience!"

Valentine smilingly looked at Eugenie who had now completely recovered her usual calm demeanour and gave with composure her opinion on the subject of the future arrangement of their life, which Valentine had proposed, and played her part admirably.

When the clock struck ten, she arose. "I am afraid, we can await your daughters no longer;" she said, "to-morrow, when they have rested after their dancing we will return."

"I will not detain you," replied the doctor, "for I verily believe that they will not come home, till I go and fetch them myself. That is the way they treat their old father. I will forgive them, however, this time an account of the pleasure they have procured me of having your society all to myself. But I rely on your promise to return to-morrow, and perhaps, you will understand my paternal weakness when you see these naughty daughters of mine."