Withered Leaves Volume Iii Part 7

CHAPTER V.

INTERNAL STRUGGLES.

Giulia nursed Blanden unweariedly; she let the performance of "Il Barbire di Sevilla" be postponed again and again, to the great annoyance of the _impressario_, and only when Blanden began to recover did she attend the rehearsals.

Calm as she appeared by the bedside, a mighty struggle was disturbing her soul.

She often gazed with silent emotion upon his n.o.ble gentle features, as he lay there with closed eyes, when his wounded chest heaved with convulsive breathing. For her he had gone to meet death. Was he the victim of a lie? Her pa.s.sionate love was indeed truth, although all else might be deception.

She had but one alternative, the fearful alternative of losing him for ever, or of conquering him by impious defiance of law and custom.

She was an Italian; she possessed fiery blood, and the language which pa.s.sion spoke, even if it drove her out into the boundless, was to her almost irresistible.

Grown up in a stage world, in which adventures are represented before the footlights and experienced behind the scenes, she had no true comprehension of the limits of respectable life; she was inclined in it to perceive a restraint over which the laws of the heart had the right to triumph. Brigandage lives in the blood of Italians; there is also a _brigantaggio_ of the heart, which breaks into the sanctuaries of the law with daring boldness, and deems the power of life higher than that which only seems to be a lifeless form, a written paragraph. What is unworthy, let it be authorised by earth or heaven, appears to be a fetter, to break which, is esteemed an act of heroism, even although it may be deemed a crime in the eyes of the world.

But she knew that Blanden thought differently; here in the North the law was a great power; he possessed a knightly mind, which never thinks of deception. She could only be really his if she took all the daring upon herself alone, converting a degrading secret into a new heavy load of guilt.

And had not the worst happened already, and from no fault of hers? Had he not suffered heavy pain for the sake of the impossible, which could only become possible by impudent deception, and unbroken silence?

Should she not now, if she confessed all, prepare him a certain painful disappointment, which hereafter only hostile chance could bring upon him?

Who guarantees any long endurance to happiness? She would enjoy it, even if the chasm which yawns behind every bliss were nearer to her and deeper than it usually is. But she could only obtain and enjoy this felicity with heart-throbbings and anguish of conscience, condemned to everlasting anxiety, dependent upon the good-will, the whims of a despicable man; this roused her heart against fate, robbed her of sleep, and dreams full of wild pictures of horror drove her terrified mind hither and thither in alarm.

Ever again her conscience rebelled, and urged her to a confession that would free her; ever again she repressed it firmly, as the huntsman restrains the dog that will frighten away the game of which he is secure.

Beate was calmer, she had given an account of her visit to Baluzzi, she would decidedly not give up all hope, and thought he would still allow himself to be persuaded to become a subject of that country; but Giulia cried in supreme excitement--

"No, no, the disgrace of my life must remain in everlasting obscurity, how foolish to wish to drag it into court; it was a thought that could only come to me in utter helplessness. Then, too, Blanden would be lost to me; would there be anything more degrading for me, than to have to acknowledge that man before all the world? Only in deepest secrecy can my welfare lie."

When Blanden became better, he spoke to his nurse of their marriage.

Giulia covered him with kisses, but she shuddered inwardly, both with joy and fear. Ever nearer drew the fatal moment which she awaited with equally ardent longing and nameless terror.

More agitated than ever, she returned home. Beate was all the more cheerful, and hummed an Italian popular air.

"I envy you your good humour, but it appears to me to be almost like mockery of me and my urgent need."

"When there is a wedding in prospect, one cannot be sad."

"A wedding, oh my G.o.d! Happiness which all the world would envy me, envy me with reason, which I would not reject, even if my soul's salvation were at stake--and side by side with the most supreme delight, stand the feelings of a criminal who is led to execution!"

"_Vedremo_--there may still be a means of escape."

"A means of escape--does not danger ever hover over my head, mortal danger?"

"Perhaps there are means of disarming it."

"Oh, speak! You are clever and cunning, Beate. I hunger for a word of hope, of comfort, for relief in my unbounded fear."

"It would be a risk--"

"What would I not risk in order to be free from this racking torture of my heart."

"You could not undertake this risk, only I, and the consequences if it fail, would fall heavily upon my head."

"I would implore you even to undertake the most daring act, if it can bring me rescue. And yet how could I plunge you too into destruction, require a sacrifice of you for which I can grant you no compensation?"

"That be my affair, inseparable friends.h.i.+p in life and death is compensation for all."

"_Carissima_, good Beate," said Giulia, as she cordially embraced her friend.

"And then--I like setting out upon adventures, even if I must traverse break-neck paths. Danger attracts me, and all secrecy, even if it be not exactly sweet, has a great charm for me. It makes my blood surge, then I feel that I live! And if such a bold plan have succeeded, ah, what a triumph! Then people will say, 'what does not lie in such a pretty little head,' then one imagines oneself like the mouse that, in the fable, gnawed the lion's bonds. But to play a trick upon such an overbearing villain and robber, secretly, in the dead of night, without him perceiving or knowing it; to remove the weapon out of his hand--that alone is worth risking this neck for; I hope the saints will not leave so pretty a little creature as Beate Romani quite in the lurch."

"And what do you think of doing?"

"Give me money, I will travel to Italy."

"To Italy?"

"To the lake of Orta, to the island of San Giulio!"

"You will--"

"I know what I will, but not yet how I will carry it out. That must be left to the impulse of the moment. The past is a fairy tale, a legend, if the proofs be wanting. I will destroy the proofs."

"Beate!"

"Where are they, but upon the little rocky island of Berengar? There they still display the skin of that snake, which Saint Giulo killed; well, I hope that the little viper into which Beate Romani is to be transformed, will succeed with the new saints who keep guard there."

"You are contemplating a crime?"

"I am contemplating the destruction of a great lie, which clings to your life as if with the arms of a polypus. A lie for your heart, but a truth for the world; a vile, shameful truth if I do not--but what matter is that to you? Do not question me too much! What I do, I shall do alone, and because it pleases me. I ask you for the money for my journey--let the rest be my care."

Giulia sat there with folded hands; should she give her consent to a deed which, as she suspected, was directed against law and church!

Yet could she hesitate? Her pa.s.sion drove her still farther upon the fatal course, and shuddering inwardly, she was obliged to confess to herself that every act of Beate's was less of a sacrilege than that which she now so often firmly and steadily contemplated, and the worst consequences of which her friend sought to avert.

To that first meeting, to that short-lived felicity by which she first emanc.i.p.ated herself from her stern duty, this lawless deed was now, as if forcibly, and ever anew united to unholy consequences.

Giulia wrung her hands in despair.

"Let me consider it, weigh it--not too hastily accede to the transient idea! Too much is at stake for me--for you!"

"A leaf in the wind--and all is done!"

"A leaf in the wind?" said Giulia thoughtfully "is my life not one already? And if your plan miscarry, if they catch you--?"