CHAPTER XXVII
A NEW ORDEAL
The old city of Meran faces Southward to the yellow hills of Italy,across a broad vale, between two mountain-walls and torrent-waters. Withone hand it takes the bounding green Passeyr, and with the other thebrown-rolling Adige, and plunges them together in roaring foam underthe shadow of the Western wall. It stands on the spur of a lower centraleminence crowned by a grey castle, and the sun has it from everyaspect. The shape of a swan in water may describe its position, for theVintschgau and the stony Passeyrthal make a strong curve on two sidesas they descend upon it with their rivers, and the bosom of the cityprojects, while the head appears bending gracefully backward. Manycastles are in view of it; the loud and tameless Passeyr girdles it withan emerald cincture; there is a sea of arched vineyard foliage at hisfeet.
Vittoria reached the Castle of Sonnenberg about noon, and foundempty courts and open doors. She sat in the hall like a supplicant,disregarded by the German domestics, who beheld a travel-stainedhumble-faced young Italian woman, and supposed that their duty was donein permitting her to rest; but the duchess's maid Aennchen happening tocome by, questioned her in moderately intelligible Italian, and hearingher name gave a cry, and said that all the company were out hunting,shooting, and riding, in the vale below or the mountain above. "Ah,dearest lady, what a fright we have all been in about you! SignoraPiaveni has not slept a wink, and the English gentleman has made greatexcursions every day to find you. This morning the soldier Wilhelmarrived with news that his master was bringing you on."
Vittoria heard that Laura and her sister and the duchess had gone downto Meran. Countess Lena von Lenkenstein was riding to see her betrothedshoot on a neighbouring estate. Countess Anna had disappeared early,none knew where. Both these ladies, and their sister-in-law, were inmourning for the terrible death of their brother, Count Paul Aennchenrepeated what she knew of the tale concerning him.
The desire to see Laura first, and be embraced and counselled by her,and lie awhile in her arms to get a breath of home, made Vittoria refuseto go up to her chamber, and notwithstanding Aennchen's persuasions, sheleft the castle, and went out and sat in the shaded cart-track. On thewinding ascent she saw a lady in a black riding habit, leading her horseand talking to a soldier, who seemed to be receiving orders from her,and presently saluted and turned his steps downward. The lady came on,and passed her without a glance. After entering the courtyard, whereshe left her horse, she reappeared, and stood hesitating, but came up toVittoria and said bluntly, in Italian:
"Are you the signorina Campa, or Belloni, who is expected here?"
The Austrian character and colouring of her features told Vittoria thatthis must be the Countess Anna or her sister.
"I think I have been expected," she replied.
"You come alone?"
"I am alone."
"I am Countess Anna von Lenkenstein; one of the guests of the castle."
"My message is to the Countess Anna."
"You have a message?"
Vittoria lifted the embroidered cigar-case. Countess Anna snatched itfrom her hand.
"What does this mean? Is it insolence? Have the kindness, if you please,not to address me in enigmas. Do you"--Anna was deadly pale as sheturned the cigarcase from side to side--"do you imagine that I smoke,'par hasard?'" She tried to laugh off her intemperate manner of speech;the laugh broke at sight of a blood-mark on one corner of the case; shestarted and said earnestly, "I beg you to let me hear what the meaningof this may be?"
"He lies in the Ultenthal, wounded; and his wish was that I shoulddeliver it to you." Vittoria spoke as gently as the harsh tidings wouldallow.
"Wounded? My God! my God!" Anna cried in her own language. "Wounded?-inthe breast, then! He carried it in his breast. Wounded by what? bywhat?"
"I can tell you no more."
"Wounded by whom?"
"It was an honourable duel."
"Are you afraid to tell me he has been assassinated?"
"It was an honourable duel."
"None could match him with the sword."
"His enemy had nothing but a dagger."
"Who was his enemy?"
"It is no secret, but I must leave him to say."
"You were a witness of the fight?"
"I saw it all."
"The man was one of your party!
"Ah!" exclaimed Vittoria, "lose no time with me, Countess Anna, go tohim at once, for though he lived when I left him, he was bleeding; Icannot say that he was not dying, and he has not a friend near."
Anna murmured like one overborne by calamity. "My brother struck downone day--he the next!" She covered her face a moment, and unclosed it toexplain that she wept for her brother, who had been murdered, stabbed inBologna.
"Was it Count Ammiani who did this?" she asked passionately.
Vittoria shook her head; she was divining a dreadful thing in relationto the death of Count Paul.
"It was not?" said Anna. "They had a misunderstanding, I know. But youtell me the man fought with a dagger. It could not be Count Ammiani.The dagger is an assassin's weapon, and there are men of honour in Italystill."
She called to a servant in the castle-yard, and sent him down withorders to stop the soldier Wilhelm.
"We heard this morning that you were coming, and we thought it curious,"she observed; and called again for her horse to be saddled. "How far isthis place where he is lying? I have no knowledge of the Ultenthal.Has he a doctor attending him? When was he wounded? It is but commonhumanity to see that he is attended by an efficient doctor. My nervesare unstrung by the recent blow to our family; that is why--Oh, myfather! my holy father!" she turned to a grey priest's head that wasrising up the ascent, "I thank God for you! Lena is away riding; sheweeps constantly when she is within four walls. Come in and give metears, if you can; I am half mad for the want of them. Tears first;teach me patience after."
The old priest fanned his face with his curled hat, and raised one handas he uttered a gentle chiding in reproof of curbless human sorrow. Annasaid to Vittoria, coldly, "I thank you for your message:" she walkedinto the castle by his side, and said to him there: "The woman yousaw outside has a guilty conscience. You will spend your time moreprofitably with her than with me. I am past all religious duties at thismoment. You know, father, that I can open my heart. Probe this Italianwoman; search her through and through. I believe her to be blood-stainedand abominable. She hates us. She has sworn an oath against us. She ismalignant."
It was not long before Anna issued forth and rode down to the vale. Thepriest beckoned to Vittoria from the gates. He really supposed her tohave come to him with a burdened spirit.
"My daughter," he addressed her. The chapter on human error was opened:"We are all of one family--all of us erring children--all of us boundto abnegate hatred: by love alone are we saved. Behold the Image ofLove--the Virgin and Child. Alas! and has it been visible to man thesemore than eighteen hundred years, and humankind are still blind to it?Are their ways the ways of comfort and blessedness? Their ways are theways of blood; paths to eternal misery among howling fiends. Why havethey not chosen the sweet ways of peace, which are strewn with flowers,which flow with milk?"--The priest spread his hand open for Vittoria's,which she gave to his keeping, and he enclosed it softly, smoothing itwith his palms, and retaining it as a worldly oyster between spiritualshells. "Why, my daughter, why, but because we do not bow to that Imagedaily, nightly, hourly, momently! We do not worship it that its seedmay be sown in us. We do not cling to it, that in return it may cling tous."
He spoke with that sensuous resource of rich feeling which thecontemplation of the Image does inspire. And Vittoria was not ledreluctantly into the oratory of the castle to pray with him; but sherefused to confess. Thereupon followed a soft discussion that was asnear being acerb as nails are near velvet paws.
Vittoria perceived his drift, and also the dear good heart of the oldman, who meant no harm to her, and believed that he was making use ofhis professional weapon
s for her ultimate good. The inquisitions andthe kindness went musically together; she responded to the kindness, butrebutted the inquisitions; at which he permitted a shade of discontentto traverse his features, and asked her with immense tenderness whethershe had not much on her mind; she expressing melodious gratitude forhis endeavours to give her comfort. He could not forbear directing anadmonishment to her stubborn spirit, and was obliged, for the sakeof impressiveness, to speak it harshly; until he saw, that withoutsweetness of manner and unction of speech, he left her untouched; so hewas driven back to the form of address better suited to his nature andhabits; the end of which was that both were cooing.
Vittoria was ashamed to tell herself how much she liked him and hisghostly brethren, whose preaching was always of peace, while the worldwas full of lurid hatred, strife, and division. She begged the baffledold man to keep her hand in his. He talked in Latinized Italian,and only appeared to miss the exact meaning of her replies when hisexamination of the state of her soul was resumed. They sat in the softcolour of the consecrated place like two who were shut away from earth.Often he thought that her tears were about to start and bring her low;for she sighed heavily; at the mere indication of the displacement ofher hand, she looked at him eagerly, as if entreating him not to let itdrop.
"You are a German, father?" she said.
"I am of German birth, my daughter."
"That makes it better. Remain beside me. The silence is sweet music."
The silence was broken at intervals by his murmur of a call forpatience! patience!
This strange scene concluded with the entry of the duchess, who retiredpartly as soon as she saw them. Vittoria smiled to the old man, and lefthim: the duchess gave her a hushed welcome, and took her place. Vittoriawas soon in Laura's arms, where, after a storm of grief, she related theevents of the journey following her flight from Milan. Laura interruptedher but once to exclaim, "Angelo Guidascarpi!" Vittoria then heard fromher briefly that Milan was quiet, Carlo Ammiani in prison. It had beenfor tidings of her lover that she had hastened over the mountains toMeran. She craved for all that could be told of him, but Laura repeated,as in a stupefaction, "Angelo Guidascarpi!" She answered Vittoria'squestion by saying, "You could not have had so fatal a companion."
"I could not have had so devoted a protector."
"There is such a thing as an evil star. We are all under it at present,to some degree; but he has been under it from his birth. My Sandra, mybeloved, I think I have pardoned you, if I ever pardon anyone! I doubtit; but it is certain that I love you. You have seen Countess Anna, or Iwould have told you to rest and get over your fatigue. The Lenkensteinsare here--my poor sister among them. You must show yourself. I wasprovident enough to call at your mother's for a box of your clothesbefore I ran out of wretched Milan."
Further, the signora stated that Carlo might have to remain in prison.She made no attempt to give dark or fair colour to the misery of thesituation; telling Vittoria to lie on her bed and sleep, if sleep couldbe persuaded to visit her, she went out to consult with the duchess.Vittoria lay like a dead body on the bed, counting the throbs of herheart. It helped her to fall into a state of insensibility. When sheawoke, the room was dark; she felt that some one had put a silkencushion across her limbs. The noise of a storm traversing the vale rangthrough the castle, and in the desolation of her soul, that stealthy actof kindness wrought in her till she almost fashioned a vow upon her lipsthat she would leave the world to toss its wrecks, and dedicate her lifeto God.
For, O heaven! of what avail is human effort? She thought of the Chief,whose life was stainless, but who stood proscribed because his aim wastoo high to be attained within compass of a mortal's years. His errorseemed that he had ever aimed at all. He seemed less wise than theold priest of the oratory. She could not disentangle him from her ownprofound humiliation and sense of fallen power. Her lover's imprisonmentaccused her of some monstrous culpability, which she felt unrepentingly,not as we feel a truth, but as we submit to a terrible force ofpressure.
The morning light made her realize Carlo's fate, to whom it wouldpenetrate through a hideous barred loophole--a defaced and dreadfulbeam. She asked herself why she had fled from Milan. It must have beensome cowardly instinct that had prompted her to fly. "Coward, coward!thing of vanity! you, a mere woman!" she cried out, and succeededin despising herself sufficiently to think it possible that she haddeserved to forfeit her lover's esteem.
It was still early when the duchess's maid came to her, bringing wordthat her mistress would be glad to visit her. From the duchess Vittoriaheard of the charge against Angelo. Respecting Captain Weisspriess,Amalia said that she had perceived his object in wishing to bring thegreat cantatrice to the castle; and that it was a well-devised audaciousscheme to subdue Countess Anna:--"We Austrians also can be jealous.The difference between us is, that it makes us tender, and you Italianssavage." She asked pointedly for an affirmative, that Vittoria wasglad to reply with, when she said: "Captain Weisspriess was perfectlyrespectful to you?" She spoke comforting words of Carlo Ammiani, whomshe hoped to see released as soon as the excitement had subsided.The chief comfort she gave was by saying that he had been originallyarrested in mistake for his cousin Angelo.
"I will confide what is now my difficulty here frankly to you," said theduchess. "The Lenkensteins are my guests; I thought it better to bringthem here. Angelo Guidascarpi has slain their brother--a base deed! Itdoes not affect you in my eyes; you can understand that in theirs itdoes. Your being present--Laura has told me everything--at the duel,or fight, between that young man and Captain Weisspriess, will make youappear as his accomplice--at least, to Anna it will; she is the mostunreasoning, the most implacable of women. She returned from theUltenthal last night, and goes there this morning, which is a signthat Captain Weisspriess lives. I should be sorry if we lost so goodan officer. As she is going to take Father Bernardus with her, it ispossible that the wound is serious. Do you know you have mystifiedthe worthy man exceedingly? What tempted you to inform him that yourconscience was heavily burdened, at the same time that you refused toconfess?"
"Surely he has been deluded about me," said Vittoria.
"I do but tell you his state of mind in regard to you," the duchesspursued. "Under all the circumstances, this is what I have to ask: youare my Laura's guest, therefore the guest of my heart. There is anotherone here, an Englishman, a Mr. Powys; and also Lieutenant Pierson, whom,naughty rebel that you are, you have been the means of bringing intodisgrace; naturally you would wish to see them: but my request is, thatyou should keep to these rooms for two or three days: the Lenkensteinswill then be gone. They can hardly reproach me for retaining an invalid.If you go down among them, it will be a cruel meeting."
Vittoria thankfully consented to the arrangement. They agreed to act inaccordance with it.
The signora was a late riser. The duchess had come on a second visit toVittoria when Laura joined them, and hearing of the arrangement, spurnedthe notion of playing craven before the Lenkensteins, who, she said,might think as it pleased them to think, but were never to suppose thatthere was any fear of confronting them. "And now, at this very moment,when they have their triumph, and are laughing over Viennese squibs ather, she has an idea of hiding her head--she hangs out the white flag!It can't be. We go or we stay; but if we stay, the truth is that we aretoo poor to allow our enemies to think poorly of us. You, Amalia, arevictorious, and you may snap your fingers at opinion. It is a luxurywe cannot afford. Besides, I wish her to see my sister and makeacquaintance with the Austrianized-Italian--such a wonder as is nowhereto be seen out of the Serabiglione and in the Lenkenstein family.Marriage is, indeed, a tremendous transformation. Bianca was oncedeclared to be very like me."
The brow-beaten duchess replied to the outburst that she had consideredit right to propose the scheme for Vittoria's seclusion on account ofthe Guidascarpi.
"Even if that were a good reason, there are better on the other side,"said Laura; adding, with many little backward tosses of th
e head, "Thatstory has to be related in full before I denounce Angelo and Rinaldo."
"It cannot be denied that they are assassins," returned the duchess.
"It cannot be denied that they have killed one man or more. For you,Justice drops from the bough: we have to climb and risk our necks forit. Angelo stood to defend my darling here. Shall she be ashamed ofhim?"
"You will never persuade me to tolerate assassination," said the duchesscolouring.
"Never, never; I shall never persuade you; never persuade--never attemptto persuade any foreigner that we can be driven to extremes where theirlaws do not apply to us--are not good for us--goad a subjected peopletill their madness is pardonable. Nor shall I dream of persuading youthat Angelo did right in defending her from that man."
"I maintain that there are laws applicable to all human creatures," saidthe duchess. "You astonish me when you speak compassionately of such acriminal."
"No; not of such a criminal, of such an unfortunate youth, and mycountryman, when every hand is turned against him, and all tongues arereviling him. But let Angelo pass; I pray to heaven he may escape. Allwho are worth anything in our country are strained in every fibre,and it's my trick to be half in love with anyone of them when he ispersecuted. I fancy he is worth more than the others, and is simplyluckless. You must make allowances for us, Amalia--pity captive Judah!"
"I think, my Laura, you will never be satisfied till I have ceased tobe Babylonian," said the duchess, smiling and fondling Vittoria, to whomshe said, "Am I not a complaisant German?"
Vittoria replied gently, "If they were like you!"
"Yes, if they were like the duchess," said Laura, "nothing would be leftfor us then but to hate ourselves. Fortunately, we deal with brutes."
She was quite pitiless in prompting Vittoria to hasten down, andmarvelled at the evident reluctance in doing this slight duty, of onewhose courage she had recently seen rise so high. Vittoria was equallyamazed by her want of sympathy, which was positive coldness, and herdisregard for the sentiments of her hostess. She dressed hesitatingly,responding with forlorn eyes to Laura's imperious "Come." When at lastshe was ready to descend, Laura took her dawn, full of battle. Theduchess had gone in advance to keep the peace.
The ladies of the Lenkenstein family were standing at one window of themorning room conversing. Apart from them, Merthyr Powys and Wilfrid wereexamining one of the cumbrous antique arms ranged along the wall. Theformer of these old English friends stepped up to Vittoria quickly andkissed her forehead. Wilfrid hung behind him; he made a poor show ofindifference, stammered English and reddened; remembering that he wasunder observation he recovered wonderfully, and asked, like a patron,"How is the voice?" which would have been foolish enough to Vittoria'smore attentive hearing. She thanked him for the service he had renderedher at La Scala. Countess Lena, who looked hard at both, saw nothing towaken one jealous throb.
"Bianca, you expressed a wish to give a salute to my eldest daughter,"said Laura.
The Countess of Lenkenstein turned her head. "Have I done so?"
"It is my duty to introduce her," interposed the duchess, and conductedthe ceremony with a show of its embracing these ladies, neither one ofwhom changed her cold gaze.
Careful that no pause should follow, she commenced chatting to theladies and gentlemen alternately, keeping Vittoria under her peculiarcharge. Merthyr alone seconded her efforts to weave the web of converse,which is an armistice if not a treaty on these occasions.
"Have you any fresh caricatures from Vienna?" Laura continued to addressher sister.
"None have reached me," said the neutral countess.
"Have they finished laughing?"
"I cannot tell."
"At any rate, we sing still," Laura smiled to Vittoria. "You shall hearus after breakfast. I regret excessively that you were not in Milan onthe Fifteenth. We will make amends to you as much as possible. You shallhear us after breakfast. You will sing to please my sister, Sandra mia,will you not?"
Vittoria shook her head. Like those who have become passive, she readfaces--the duchess's imploring looks thrown from time to time tothe Lenkenstein ladies, Wilfrid's oppressed forehead, the resoluteneutrality of the countess--and she was not only incapable of secondingLaura's aggressive war, but shrank from the involvement and sickened atthe indelicacy. Anna's eyes were fixed on her and filled her with dreadlest she should be resolving to demand a private interview.
"You refuse to sing?" said Laura; and under her breath, "When I bid younot, you insist!"
"Can she possibly sing before she grows accustomed to the air of theplace?" said the duchess.
Merthyr gravely prescribed a week's diet on grapes antecedent to theissuing of a note. "Have you never heard what a sustained grape-dietwill do for the bullfinches?"
"Never," exclaimed the duchess. "Is that the secret of their Germaneducation?"
"Apparently, for we cannot raise them to the same pitch of perfection inEngland."
"I will try it upon mine. Every morning they shall have two bigbunches."
"Fresh plucked, and with the first sunlight on them. Be careful of therules."
Wilfrid remarked, "To make them exhibit the results, you withdraw thebenefit suddenly, of course?"
"We imitate the general run of Fortune's gifts as much as we can," saidMerthyr.
"That is the training for little shrill parrots: we have none in Italy,"Laura sighed, mock dolefully; "I fear the system would fail among us."
"It certainly would not build Como villas," said Lena.
Laura cast sharp eyes on her pretty face.
"It is adapted for caged voices that are required to chirrup to ticklethe ears of boors."
Anna said to the duchess: "I hope your little birds are all well thismorning."
"Come to them presently with me and let our ears be tickled," theduchess laughed in answer; and the spiked dialogue broke, not to revive.
The duchess had observed the constant direction of Anna's eyes uponVittoria during the repast, and looked an interrogation at Anna, whoreplied to it firmly. "I must be present," the duchess whispered. Shedrew Vittoria away by the hand, telling Merthyr Powys that it was unkindto him, but that he should be permitted to claim his fair friend fromnoon to the dinner-bell.
Laura and Bianca were discussing the same subject as the one for whichAnna desired an interview with Vittoria. It was to know the conditionsand cause of the duel between Angelo Guidascarpi and CaptainWeisspriess, and whither Angelo had fled. "In other words, you cry forvengeance under the name of justice," Laura phrased it, and put up aprayer for Angelo's escape.
The countess rebuked her. "It is men like Angelo who are a scandal toItaly."
"Proclaimed so; but by what title are they judged?" Laura retorted. "Ihave heard that his duel with Count Paul was fair, and that the groundsfor it were just. Deplore it; but to condemn an Italian gentlemanwithout hearing his personal vindication, is infamous; nay, it isAustrian. I know next to nothing of the story. Countess Ammiani hasassured me that the brothers have a clear defence--not from your Viennapoint of view: Italy and Vienna are different sides of the shield."
Vittoria spoke most humbly before Anna; her sole irritating remark was,that even if she were aware of the direction of Angelo's flight, shewould not betray him.
The duchess did her utmost to induce her to see that he was a criminal,outlawed from common charity. "These Italians are really like the Jews,"she said to Anna; "they appear to me to hold together by a bond of race:you cannot get them to understand that any act can be infamous when oneof their blood is guilty of it."
Anna thought gloomily: "Then, why do you ally yourself to them?"
The duchess, with Anna, Lena, and Wilfrid, drove to the Ultenthal.Vittoria and Merthyr had a long afternoon of companionship. She had beenshyer in meeting him than in meeting Wilfrid, whom she had once loved.The tie between herself and Wilfrid was broken; but Merthyr had remainedtrue to his passionless affection, which ennobled him to her so that herheart fluttered, tho
ugh she was heavily depressed. He relieved her byletting her perceive that Carlo Ammiani's merits were not unknown tohim. Merthyr smiled at Carlo for abjuring his patrician birth. He said:"Count Ammiani will be cured in time of those little roughnesses of hisadopted Republicanism. You must help to cure him. Women are never sofoolish as men in these things."
When Merthyr had spoken thus, she felt that she might dare to presshis hand. Sharing friendship with this steadfast nature and brotherlygentleman; who was in the ripe manhood of his years; who loved Italy andnever despaired; who gave great affection, and took uncomplainingly thepossible return for it;--seemed like entering on a great plain open toboundless heaven. She thought that friendship was sweeter than love.Merthyr soon left the castle to meet his sister at Coire. Laura andVittoria drove some distance up the Vintschgau, on the way to theEngadine, with him. He affected not to be downcast by the failure of thelast attempt at a rising in Milan. "Keep true to your Art; and don't letit be subservient to anything," he said, and his final injunction to herwas that she should get a German master and practise rigidly.
Vittoria could only look at Laura in reply.
"He is for us, but not of us," said Laura, as she kissed her fingers tohim.
"If he had told me to weep and pray," Vittoria murmured, "I think Ishould by-and-by lift up my head."
"By-and-by! By-and-by I think I see a convent for me," said Laura.
Their faces drooped.
Vittoria cried: "Ah! did he mean that my singing at La Scala was belowthe mark?"
At this, Laura's laughter came out in a volume. "And that excellentFather Bernardus thinks he is gaining a convert!" she said.
Vittoria's depression was real, though her strong vitality appeared tomock it. Letters from Milan, enclosed to the duchess, spoke of CarloAmmiani's imprisonment as a matter that might be indefinitely prolonged.His mother had been subjected to an examination; she had not hesitatedto confess that she had received her nephew in her house, but it couldnot be established against her that it was not Carlo whom she had passedoff to the sbirri as her son. Countess Ammiani wrote to Laura, tellingher she scarcely hoped that Carlo would obtain his liberty save upon thearrest of Angelo:--"Therefore, what I most desire, I dare not pray for!"That line of intense tragic grief haunted Vittoria like a veiled headthrusting itself across the sunlight. Countess Ammiani added that shemust give her son what news she could gather;--"Concerning you," saidLaura, interpreting the sentence: "Bitter days do this good, they makea proud woman abjure the traditions of her caste." A guarded answerwas addressed, according to the countess's directions, to Sarpo thebookseller, in Milan. For purposes of such a nature, Barto Rizzo turnedthe uneasy craven to account.
It happened that one of the maids at Sonnenberg was about to marry apeasant, of Meran, part proprietor of a vineyard, and the nuptials wereto be celebrated at the castle. Among those who thronged the courtyardon the afternoon of the ceremony, Vittoria beheld her faithful Beppo,who related the story of his pursuit of her, and the perfidy ofLuigi;--a story so lengthy, that his voluble tongue running at fullspeed could barely give the outlines of it. He informed her, likewise,that he had been sent for, while lying in Trent, by Captain Weisspriess,whom he had seen at an inn of the Ultenthal, weak but improving. Beppowas the captain's propitiatory offering to Vittoria. Meanwhile theladies sat on a terrace, overlooking the court, where a stout fellowin broad green braces and blue breeches lay half across a wooden table,thrumming a zither, which set the groups in motion. The zither is amelancholy little instrument; in range of expression it is to the harpwhat the winchat is to the thrush; or to the violin, what that bird isto the nightingale; yet few instruments are so exciting: here and therealong these mountain valleys you may hear a Tyrolese maid set her voiceto its plaintive thin tones; but when the strings are swept madlythere is mad dancing; it catches at the nerves. "Andreas! Andreas!" thedancers shouted to encourage the player. Some danced with vine-poles;partners broke and wandered at will, taking fresh partners, andoccasionally huddling in confusion, when the poles were levelled andtilted at them, and they dispersed. Beppo, dancing mightily to recoverthe use of his legs, met his acquaintance Jacob Baumwalder Feckelwitz,and the pair devoted themselves to a rivalry of capers; jump, stamp,shuffle, leg aloft, arms in air, yell and shriek: all took hands aroundthem and streamed, tramping the measure, and the vine-poles guardedthe ring. Then Andreas raised the song: "Our Lady is gracious," andimmediately the whole assemblage were singing praise to the Lady of thecastle. Following which, wine being brought to Andreas, he drank tohis lady, to his lady's guests, to the bride, to the bridegroom, toeverybody. He was now ready to improvize, and dashed thumb and finger onthe zither, tossing up his face, swarthy-flushed: "There was a steinbockwith a beard." Half-a-dozen voices repeated it, as to proclaim thetheme.
"Alas! a beard indeed, for there is no end to this animal. I know him;"said the duchess dolefully.
"There was a steinbock with a beard; Of no gun was he afeard Piff-paff left of him: piff-paff right of him Piff-paff everywhere, where you get a sight of him."
The steinbock led through the whole course of a mountaineer's emotionsand experiences, with piff-paff continually left of him and right of himand nothing hitting him. The mountaineer is perplexed; an able man, adead shot, who must undo the puzzle or lose faith in his skill, is atremendous pursuer, and the mountaineer follows the steinbock ever. A'sennderin' at a 'sennhutchen' tells him that she admitted the steinbocklast night, and her curled hair frizzled under the steinbock's eyes. Thecase is only too clear: my goodness! the steinbock is the--"Der Teu!..."said Andreas, with a comic stop of horror, the rhyme falling cleverly to"ai." Henceforth the mountaineer becomes transformed into a championof humanity, hunting the wicked bearded steinbock in all corners;especially through the cabinet of those dark men who decree the taxesdetested in Tyrol.
The song had as yet but fairly commenced, when a break in the'piff-paff' chorus warned Andreas that he was losing influence, womenand men were handing on a paper and bending their heads over it; theirresponses hushed altogether, or were ludicrously inefficient.
"I really believe the poor brute has come to a Christian finish--thisAhasuerus of steinbocks!" said the duchess.
The transition to silence was so extraordinary and abrupt, that shecalled to her chasseur to know the meaning of it. Feckelwitz fetchedthe paper and handed it up. It exhibited a cross done in blood under theword 'Meran,' and bearing that day's date. One glance at it told Laurawhat it meant. The bride in the court below was shedding tears:the bridegroom was lighting his pipe and consoling her; women werechattering, men shrugging. Some said they had seen an old grey-hairedhag (hexe) stand at the gates and fling down a piece of paper. A littleboy whose imagination was alive with the tale of the steinbock, declaredthat her face was awful, and that she had only the use of one foot. Aman patted him on the shoulder, and gave him a gulp of wine, saying withhis shrewdest air: "One may laugh at the devil once too often, though!"and that sentiment was echoed; the women suggested in addition thepossibility of the bride Lisa having something on her conscience,seeing that she had lived in a castle two years and more. The potentialpersuasions of Father Bernardus were required to get the bride togo away to her husband's roof that evening: when she did make herdeparture, the superstitious peasantry were not a merry party thatfollowed at her heels.
At the break-up of the festivities Wilfrid received an intimation thathis sister had arrived in Meran from Bormio. He went down to see her,and returned at a late hour. The ladies had gone to rest. He wrote a fewunderlined words, entreating Vittoria to grant an immediate interviewin the library of the castle. The missive was entrusted to Aennchen.Vittoria came in alarm.
"My sister is perfectly well," said Wilfrid. "She has heard thatCaptain Gambier has been arrested in the mountains; she had some fearsconcerning you, which I quieted. What I have to tell you, does notrelate to her. The man Angelo Guidascarpi is in Meran. I wish you to letthe signora know that if he is not carried out
of the city before sunsetto-morrow, I must positively inform the superior officer of the districtof his presence there."
This was their first private interview. Vittoria (for she knew him) hadacceded to it, much fearing that it would lead to her having to put onher sex's armour. To collect her wits, she asked tremblingly how Wilfridhad chanced to see Angelo. An old Italian woman, he said, had accostedhim at the foot of the mountain, and hearing that he was truly anEnglishman--"I am out of my uniform," Wilfrid remarked with intentionalbitterness--had conducted him to the house of an Italian in the city,where Angelo Guidascarpi was lying.
"Ill?" said Vittoria.
"Just recovering. After that duel, or whatever it may be called withWeisspriess, he lay all night out on the mountains. He managed to getthe help of a couple of fellows, who led him at dusk into Meran, saw anItalian name over a shop, and--I will say for them that the rascals holdtogether. There he is, at all events."
"Would you denounce a sick man, Wilfrid?"
"I certainly cannot forget my duty upon every point"
"You are changed!"
"Changed! Am I the only one who is changed?"
"He must have supposed that it would be Merthyr. I remember speaking ofMerthyr to him as our unchangeable friend. I told him Merthyr would behere."
"Instead of Merthyr, he had the misfortune to see your changeablefriend, if you will have it so."
"But how can it be your duty to denounce him, Wilfrid. You have quittedthat army."
"Have I? I have forfeited my rank, perhaps."
"And Angelo is not guilty of a military offence."
"He has slain one of a family that I am bound to respect."
"Certainly, certainly," said Vittoria hurriedly.
Her forehead showed distress of mind; she wanted Laura's counsel.
"Wilfrid, do you know the whole story?"
"I know that he inveigled Count Paul to his house and slew him; eitherhe or his brother, or both."
"I have been with him for days, Wilfrid. I believe that he would do nodishonourable thing. He is related----".
"He is the cousin of Count Ammiani."
"Ah! would you plunge us in misery?"
"How?"
"Count Ammiani is my lover."
She uttered it unblushingly, and with tender eyes fixed on him.
"Your lover!" he exclaimed, with vile emphasis.
"He will be my husband," she murmured, while the mounting hot colourburned at her temples.
"Changed--who is changed?" he said, in a vehement underneath. "For thatreason I am to be false to her who does me the honour to care for me!"
"I would not have you false to her in thought or deed."
"You ask me to spare this man on account of his relationship to yourlover, and though he has murdered the brother of the lady whom I esteem.What on earth is the meaning of the petition? Really, you amaze me."
"I appeal to your generosity, Wilfrid, I am Emilia."
"Are you?"
She gave him her hand. He took it, and felt at once the limit of allthat he might claim. Dropping the hand, he said:
"Will nothing less than my ruin satisfy you? Since that night at LaScala, I am in disgrace with my uncle; I expect at any moment to hearthat I am cashiered from the army, if not a prisoner. What is it thatyou ask of me now? To conspire with you in shielding the man who hasdone a mortal injury to the family of which I am almost one. Your reasonmust perceive that you ask too much. I would willingly assist you insparing the feelings of Count Ammiani; and, believe me, gratitude isthe last thing I require to stimulate my services. You ask too much; youmust see that you ask too much."
"I do," said Vittoria. "Good-night, Wilfrid."
He was startled to find her going, and lost his equable voice intrying to detain her. She sought relief in Laura's bosom, to whom sherecapitulated the interview.
"Is it possible," Laura said, looking at her intently, "that you do notrecognize the folly of telling this Lieutenant Pierson that you werepleading to him on behalf of your lover? Could anything be so monstrous,when one can see that he is malleable to the twist of your littlefinger? Are you only half a woman, that you have no consciousness ofyour power? Probably you can allow yourself--enviable privilege!--tosuppose that he called you down at this late hour simply to inform youthat he is compelled to do something which will cause you unhappiness!I repeat, it is an enviable privilege. Now, when the real occasion hascome for you to serve us, you have not a single weapon--except thesetears, which you are wasting on my lap. Be sure that if he denouncesAngelo, Angelo's life cries out against you. You have but to quickenyour brain to save him. Did he expose his life for you or not? I knewthat he was in Meran," the signora continued sadly. "The paper whichfrightened the silly peasants, revealed to me that he was there,needing help. I told you Angelo was under an evil star. I thought my dayto-morrow would be a day of scheming. The task has become easy, if youwill."
"Be merciful; the task is dreadful," said Vittoria.
"The task is simple. You have an instrument ready to your hands. Youcan do just what you like with him--make an Italian of him; make himrenounce his engagement to this pert little Lena of Lenkenstein, breakhis sword, play Arlecchino, do what you please. He is not required forany outrageous performance. A week, and Angelo will have recovered hisstrength; you likewise may resume the statuesque demeanour which youhave been exhibiting here. For the space of one week you are asked forsome natural exercise of your wits and compliancy. Hitherto what haveyou accomplished, pray?" Laura struck spitefully at Vittoria'sdegraded estimation of her worth as measured by events. "You have donenothing--worse than nothing. It gives me horrors to find it necessary toentreat you to look your duty in the face and do it, that even threeor four Italian hearts--Carlo among them--may thank you. Not Carlo, yousay?" (Vittoria had sobbed, "No, not Carlo.") "How little you know men!How little do you think how the obligations of the hour should affecta creature deserving life! Do you fancy that Carlo wishes you to be forever reading the line of a copy-book and shaping your conduct by it?Our Italian girls do this; he despises them. Listen to me; do not Iknow what is meant by the truth of love? I pass through fire, and keepconstant to it; but you have some vile Romance of Chivalry in your head;a modern sculptor's figure, 'MEDITATION;' that is the sort of bride youwould give him in the stirring days of Italy. Do you think it is onlya statue that can be true? Perceive--will you not--that this LieutenantPierson is your enemy. He tells you as much; surely the challenge isfair? Defeat him as you best can. Angelo shall not be abandoned."
"O me! it is unendurable; you are merciless," said Vittoria, shuddering.
She saw the vile figure of herself aping smirks and tender meanings toher old lover. It was a picture that she dared not let her mind reston: how then could she personate it? All through her life she had beenfrank; as a young woman, she was clear of soul; she felt that her,simplicity was already soiled by the bare comprehension of theabominable course indicated by Laura. Degradation seemed to have been athing up to this moment only dreamed of; but now that it was demanded ofher to play coquette and trick her womanhood with false allurements,she knew the sentiment of utter ruin; she was ashamed. No word is morelightly spoken than shame. Vittoria's early devotion to her Art, andsubsequently to her Italy, had carried her through the term when shewould otherwise have showed the natural mild attack of the disease.It came on her now in a rush, penetrating every chamber of her heart,overwhelming her; she could see no distinction between being ever solittle false and altogether despicable. She had loathings of her bodyand her life. With grovelling difficulty of speech she endeavouredto convey the sense of her repugnance to Laura, who leaned her ear,wondering at such bluntness of wit in a woman, and said, "Are you quitedeficient in the craft of your sex, child? You can, and you will, guardyourself ten times better when your aim is simply to subject him." Butthis was not reason to a spirit writhing in the serpent-coil of fieryblushes.
Vittoria said, "I shall pity him so."
She meant she w
ould pity Wilfrid in deluding him. It was a taint of thehypocrisy which comes with shame.
The signora retorted: "I can't follow the action of your mind a bit."
Pity being a form of tenderness, Laura supposed that she wouldintuitively hate the man who compelled her to do what she abhorred.
They spent the greater portion of the night in this debate.