CHAPTER XXXIII
EPISODES OF THE REVOLT AND THE WAR
COUNT KARL LENKENSTEIN--THE STORY OF THE GUIDASCARPI--THE VICTORY OF THEVOLUNTEERS
The smoke of a pistol-shot thinned away while there was yet silence.
"It is a saving of six charges of Austrian ammunition," said Pericles.
Vittoria stared at the scene, losing faith in her eyesight. She could infact see no distinct thing beyond what appeared as an illuminated coppermedallion, held at a great distance from her, with a dead man and atowering female figure stamped on it.
The events following were like a rush of water on her senses. There wasfighting up the street of the village, and a struggle in the spacewhere Rinaldo had fallen; successive yellowish shots under the risingmoonlight, cries from Italian lips, quick words of command from Germanin Italian, and one sturdy bull's roar of a voice that called acrossthe tumult to the Austro-Italian soldiery, "Venite fratelli!--come,brothers, come under our banner!" She heard "Rinaldo!" called.
This was a second attack of the volunteers for the rescue of theircaptured comrades. They fought more desperately than on the hill outsidethe village: they fought with steel. Shot enfiladed them; yet they boreforward in a scattered body up to that spot where Rinaldo lay, shoutingfor him. There they turned,--they fled.
Then there was a perfect stillness, succeeding the strife as quickly,Vittoria thought, as a breath yielded succeeds a breath taken.
She accused the heavens of injustice.
Pericles, prostrate on the floor, moaned that he was wounded. She said,"Bleed to death!"
"It is my soul, it is my soul is wounded for you, Sandra."
"Dreadful craven man!" she muttered.
"When my soul is shaking for your safety, Sandra Belloni!" Periclesturned his ear up. "For myself--not; it is for you, for you."
Assured of the cessation of arms by delicious silence he jumped to hisfeet.
"Ah! brutes to fight. It is 'immonde;' it is unnatural!"
He tapped his finger on the walls for marks of shot, and discovered ashot-hole in the wood-work, that had passed an arm's length aboveher head, into which he thrust his finger in an intense speculativemeditation, shifting eyes from it to her, and throwing them aloft.
He was summoned to the presence of Count Karl, with whom he foundCaptain Weisspriess, Wilfrid, and officers of jagers and the Italianbattalion. Barto Rizzo's wife was in a corner of the room. Weisspriessmet him with a very civil greeting, and introduced him to Count Karl,who begged him to thank Vittoria for the aid she had afforded to GeneralSchoneck's emissary in crossing the Piedmontese lines. He spoke inItalian. He agreed to conduct Pericles to a point on the route of hismarch, where Pericles and his precious prima donna--"our very goodfriend," he said, jovially--could escape the risk of unpleasant mishaps,and arrive at Trent and cities of peace by easy stages. He was marchingfor the neighbourhood of Vicenza.
A little before dawn Vittoria came down to the carriage. Count Karlstood at the door to hand her in. He was young and handsome, with a softflowing blonde moustache and pleasant eyes, a contrast to his brotherCount Lenkenstein. He repeated his thanks to her, which Pericles had notdelivered; he informed her that she was by no means a prisoner, and wassimply under the guardianship of friends--"though perhaps, signorina,you will not esteem this gentleman to be one of your friends." Hepointed to Weisspriess. The officer bowed, but kept aloof. Vittoriaperceived a singular change in him: he had become pale and sedate. "Poorfellow! he has had his dose," Count Karl said. "He is, I beg to assureyou, one of your most vehement admirers."
A piece of her property that flushed her with recollections, yet madeher grateful, was presently handed to her, though not in her oldenemy's presence, by a soldier. It was the silver-hilted dagger,Carlo's precious gift, of which Weisspriess had taken possession inthe mountain-pass over the vale of Meran, when he fought the duelwith Angelo. Whether intended as a peace-offering, or as a simplerestitution, it helped Vittoria to believe that Weisspriess was nolonger the man he had been.
The march was ready, but Barto Rizzo's wife refused to move a foot. Theofficers consulted. She, was brought before them. The soldiers sworewith jesting oaths that she had been carefully searched for weapons, andonly wanted a whipping. "She must have it," said Weisspriess. Vittoriaentreated that she might have a place beside her in the carriage. "It ismore than I would have asked of you; but if you are not afraid of her,"said Count Karl, with an apologetic shrug.
Her heart beat fast when she found herself alone with the terriblewoman.
Till then she had never seen a tragic face. Compared with this tawnycolourlessness, this evil brow, this shut mouth, Laura, even on thebattle-field, looked harmless. It was like the face of a dead savage.The eyeballs were full on Vittoria, as if they dashed at an obstacle,not embraced an image. In proportion as they seemed to widen about her,Vittoria shrank. The whole woman was blood to her gaze.
When she was capable of speaking, she said entreatingly:
"I knew his brother."
Not a sign of life was given in reply.
Companionship with this ghost of broad daylight made the flatteringTyrolese feathers at both windows a welcome sight.
Precautions had been taken to bind the woman's arms. Vittoria offered toloosen the cords, but she dared not touch her without a mark of assent.
"I know Angelo Guidascarpi, Rinaldo's brother," she spoke again.
The woman's nostrils bent inward, as when the breath we draw is keen asa sword to the heart. Vittoria was compelled to look away from her.
At the mid-day halt Count Karl deigned to justify to her his intendedexecution of Rinaldo--the accomplice in the slaying of his brother CountPaula. He was evidently eager to obtain her good opinion of the Austrianmilitary. "But for this miserable spirit of hatred against us," he said,"I should have espoused an Italian lady;" and he asked, "Why not? Forthat matter, in all but blood we Lenkensteins are half Italian, exceptwhen Italy menaces the empire. Can you blame us for then drawing thesword in earnest?"
He proffered his version of the death of Count Paul. She kept her ownsilent in her bosom.
Clelia Guidascarpi, according to his statement, had first been slain byher brothers. Vittoria believed that Clelia had voluntarily submitted todeath and died by her own hand. She was betrothed to an Italian noblemanof Bologna, the friend of the brothers. They had arranged the marriage;she accepted the betrothal. "She loved my brother, poor thing!" saidCount Karl. "She concealed it, and naturally. How could she take acouple of wolves into her confidence? If she had told the pair ofruffians that she was plighted to an Austrian, they would have quietedher at an earlier period. A woman! a girl--signorina! The intolerablecowardice amazes me. It amazes me that you or anyone can uphold thecharacter of such brutes. And when she was dead they lured my brother tothe house and slew him; fell upon him with daggers, stretched him at thefoot of her coffin, and then--what then?--ran! ran for their lives. Onehas gone to his account. We shall come across the other. He is amongthat volunteer party which attacked us yesterday. The body was carriedoff by them; it is sufficient testimony that Angelo Guidascarpi isin the neighbourhood. I should be hunting him now but that I am underorders to march South-east."
The story, as Vittoria knew it, had a different, though yet a dreadful,colour.
"I could have hanged Rinaldo," Count Karl said further. "I suppose therascals feared I should use my right, and that is why they sent theirmad baggage of a woman to spare any damage to the family pride. If Ihad been a man to enjoy vengeance, the rope would have swung for him. Inspite of provocation, I shall simply shoot the other; I pledge my wordto it. They shall be paid in coin. I demand no interest."
Weisspriess prudently avoided her. Wilfrid held aloof. She sat in gardenshade till the bugle sounded. Tyrolese and Italian soldiers were gibingat her haggard companion when she entered the carriage. Fronting thisdumb creature once more, Vittoria thought of the story of the brothers.She felt herself reading it from the very page. The woman looked t
hatevil star incarnate which Laura said they were born under.
This is in brief the story of the Guidascarpi.
They were the offspring of a Bolognese noble house, neither wealthynor poor. In her early womanhood, Clelia was left to the care of herbrothers. She declined the guardianship of Countess Ammiani because ofher love for them; and the three, with their passion of hatred to theAustrians inherited from father and mother, schemed in concert to throwoff the Austrian yoke. Clelia had soft features of no great mark; by hercolouring she was beautiful, being dark along the eyebrows, with darkeyes, and a surpassing richness of Venetian hair. Bologna and Venicewere married in her aspect. Her brothers conceived her to possess suchforce of mind that they held no secrets from her. They did not know thatthe heart of their sister was struggling with an image of Power when sheuttered hatred of it. She was in truth a woman of a soft heart, with amost impressionable imagination.
There were many suitors for the hand of Clelia Guidascarpi, though herdowry was not the portion of a fat estate. Her old nurse counselledthe brothers that they should consent to her taking a husband. Theyfulfilled this duty as one that must be done, and she became sorrowfullythe betrothed of a nobleman of Bologna; from which hour she had nocheerfulness. The brothers quitted Bologna for Venice, where there wasthe bed of a conspiracy. On their return they were shaken by rumours oftheir sister's misconduct. An Austrian name was allied to hers inbusy mouths. A lady, their distant relative, whose fame was light, hadwithdrawn her from the silent house, and made display of her. Since shehad seen more than an Italian girl should see, the brothers proposed tothe nobleman her betrothed to break the treaty; but he was of a mind tohurry on the marriage, and recollecting now that she was but a woman,the brothers fixed a day for her espousals, tenderly, without reproach.She had the choice of taking the vows or surrendering her hand. Her oldnurse prayed for the day of her espousals to come with a quicker step.
One night she surprised Count Paul Lenkenstein at Clelia's window.Rinaldo was in the garden below. He moved to the shadow of a cypress,and was seen moving by the old nurse. The lover took the single kiss hehad come for, was led through the chamber, and passed unchallengedinto the street. Clelia sat between locked doors and darkened windows,feeling colder to the brothers she had been reared with than to allother men upon the earth. They sent for her after a lapse of hours. Herold nurse was kneeling at their feet. Rinaldo asked for the name of herlover. She answered with it. Angelo said, "It will be better for youto die: but if you cannot do so easy a thing as that, prepare widow'sgarments." They forced her to write three words to Count Paul, callinghim to her window at midnight. Rinaldo fetched a priest: Angelo laid outtwo swords. An hour before the midnight, Clelia's old nurse raised thehouse with her cries. Clelia was stretched dead in her chamber. Thebrothers kissed her in turn, and sat, one at her head, one at her feet.At midnight her lover stood among them. He was gravely saluted, andbidden to look upon the dead body. Angelo said to him, "Had she livedyou should have wedded her hand. She is gone of her own free choice, andone of us follows her." With the sweat of anguish on his forehead,Count Paul drew sword. The window was barred; six male domestics of thehousehold held high lights in the chamber; the priest knelt beside onecorpse, awaiting the other.
Vittoria's imagination could not go beyond that scene, but she lookedout on the brother of the slain youth with great pity, and with astrange curiosity. The example given by Clelia of the possible loveof an Italian girl for the white uniform, set her thinking whether somonstrous a fact could ever be doubled in this world. "Could it happento me?" she asked herself, and smiled, as she half-fashioned the wordson her lips, "It is a pretty uniform."
Her reverie was broken by a hiss of "Traitress!" from the womanopposite.
She coloured guiltily, tried to speak, and sat trembling. A divinationof intense hatred had perhaps read the thought within her breast: or itwas a mere outburst of hate. The woman's face was like the wearing awayof smoke from a spot whence shot has issued. Vittoria walked for theremainder of the day. That fearful companion oppressed her. She feltthat one who followed armies should be cast in such a frame, and nowdesired with all her heart to render full obedience to Carlo, and abidein Brescia, or even in Milan--a city she thought of shyly.
The march was hurried to the slopes of the Vicentino, for enemies werethick in this district. Pericles refused to quit the soldiers, thoughCount Karl used persuasion. The young nobleman said to Vittoria, "Beon your guard when you meet my sister Anna. I tell you, we can be asrevengeful as any of you: but you will exonerate me. I do my duty; Iseek to do no more."
At an inn that they reached toward evening she saw the innkeeper shoot alittle ball of paper at an Italian corporal, who put his foot on it andpicked it up. The soldier subsequently passed through the ranks of hiscomrades, gathering winks and grins. They were to have rested at theinn, but Count Karl was warned by scouts, which was sufficient to makePericles cling to him in avoidance of the volunteers, of whom mainly hewas in terror. He looked ague-stricken. He would not listen to her, orto reason in any shape. "I am on the sea--shall I trust a boat? I stickto a ship," he said. The soldiers marched till midnight. It was arrangedthat the carriage should strike off for Schio at dawn. The soldiersbivouacked on the slope of one of the low undulations falling to theVicentino plain. Vittoria spread her cloak, and lay under bare sky, notsuffering the woman to be ejected from the carriage. Hitherto Luigi hadavoided her. Under pretence of doubling Count Karl's cloak as a pillowfor her head, he whispered, "If the signorina hears shots let her lie onthe ground flat as a sheet." The peacefulness surrounding her precludedalarm. There was brilliant moonlight, and the host of stars, all dim;and first they beckoned her up to come away from trouble, and then,through long gazing, she had the fancy that they bent and swam abouther, making her feel that she lay in the hollows of a warm hushed sea.She wished for her lover.
Men and officers were lying at a stone's-throw distant. The Tyrolesehad lit a fire for cooking purposes, by which four of them stood, and,lifting hands, sang one of their mountain songs, that seemed to her tospring like clear water into air, and fall wavering as a feather falls,or the light about a stone in water. It lulled her to a half-sleep,during which she fancied hearing a broad imitation of a cat's-call fromthe mountains, that was answered out of the camp, and a talk of officersarose in connection with the response, and subsided. The carriage wasin the shadows of the fire. In a little while Luigi and the driver beganputting the horses to, and she saw Count Karl and Weisspriess go upto Luigi, who declared loudly that it was time. The woman inside wasaroused. Weisspriess helped to drag her out. Luigi kept making muchnoise, and apologized for it by saying that he desired to awakenhis master, who was stretched in a secure circle among the Tyrolese.Presently Vittoria beheld the woman's arms thrown out free; the nextminute they were around the body of Weisspriess, and a shrewd cry issuedfrom Count Karl. Shots rang from the outposts; the Tyrolese sprang toarms; "Sandra!" was shouted by Pericles; and once more she heard the'Venite fratelli!' of the bull's voice, and a stream of volunteersdashed at the Tyrolese with sword and dagger and bayonet. TheAustro-Italians stood in a crescent line--the ominous form of incipientmilitary insubordination. Their officers stormed at them, and called forCount Karl and for Weisspriess. The latter replied like a man stifling,but Count Karl's voice was silent.
"Weisspriess! here, to me!" the captain sang out in Italian.
"Ammiani! here, to me!" was replied.
Vittoria struck her hands together in electrical gladness at her lover'svoice and name. It rang most cheerfully. Her home was in the conflictwhere her lover fought, and she muttered with ecstasy, "We have met!we have met!" The sound of the keen steel, so exciting to dream of,paralyzed her nerves in a way that powder, more terrible for a woman'simagination, would not have done, and she could only feebly advance. Itwas a spacious moonlight, but the moonlight appeared to have got of abrassy hue to her eyes, though the sparkle of the steel was white; andshe felt too, and wondered at it, that the cries an
d the noise went toher throat, as if threatening to choke her. Very soon she found herselfstanding there, watching for the issue of the strife, almost as dead asa weight in scales, incapable of clear vision.
Matched against the Tyrolese alone, the volunteers had an equal fightin point of numbers, and the advantage of possessing a leader; for CountKarl was down, and Weisspriess was still entangled in the woman's arms.When at last Wilfrid got him free, the unsupported Tyrolese were givingground before Carlo Ammiani and his followers. These fought with sternfury, keeping close up to their enemy, rarely shouting. They presentedsomething like the line of a classic bow, with its arrow-head; while theTyrolese were huddled in groups, and clubbed at them, and fell back forspace, and ultimately crashed upon their betraying brothers in arms,swinging rifles and flying. The Austro-Italians rang out a Viva forItaly, and let them fly: they were swept from the scene.
Vittoria heard her lover addressing his followers. Then he and Angelostood over Count Karl, whom she had forgotten. Angelo ran up to her, butgave place the moment Carlo came; and Carlo drew her by the hand swiftlyto an obscure bend of the rolling ground, and stuck his sword in theearth, and there put his arms round her and held her fast.
"Obey me now," were his first words.
"Yes," she answered.
He was harsh of eye and tongue, not like the gentle youth she had beentorn from at the door of La Scala.
"Return; make your way to Brescia. My mother is in Brescia. Milan ishateful. I throw myself into Vicenza. Can I trust you to obey?"
"Carlo, what evil have you heard of me?"
"I listen to no tales."
"Let me follow you to Vicenza and be your handmaid, my beloved."
"Say that you obey."
"I have said it."
He seemed to shut her in his heart, so closely was she enfolded.
"Since La Scala," she murmured; and he bent his lips to her ear,whispering, "Not one thought of another woman! and never till I die."
"And I only of you, Carlo, and for you, my lover, my lover!"
"You love me absolutely?"
"I belong to you."
"I could be a coward and pray for life to live to hear you say it."
"I feel I breathe another life when you are away from me."
"You belong to me; you are my own?"
"You take my voice, beloved."
"And when I claim you, I am to have you?"
"Am I not in your hands?"
"The very instant I make my claim you will say yes?"
"I shall not have strength for more than to nod."
Carlo shuddered at the delicious image of her weakness.
"My Sandra! Vittoria, my soul! my bride!"
"O my Carlo! Do you go to Vicenza? And did you know I was among thesepeople?"
"You will hear everything from little Leone Rufo, who is wounded andaccompanies you to Brescia. Speak of nothing. Speak my name, and look atme. I deserve two minutes of blessedness."
"Ah! my dearest, if I am sweet to you, you might have many!"
"No; they begin to hum a reproach at me already, for I must be marching.Vicenza will soon bubble on a fire, I suspect. Comfort my mother; shewants a young heart at her elbow. If she is alone, she feeds on everyrumour; other women scatter in emotions what poisons her. And when mybride is with her, I am between them."
"Yes, Carlo, I will go," said Vittoria, seeing her duty at last throughtenderness.
Carlo sprang from her side to meet Angelo, with whom he exchanged somequick words. The bugle was sounding, and Barto Rizzo audible. Luigi cameto, her, ruefully announcing that the volunteers had sacked the carriagebehaved worse than the Austrians; and that his padrone, the signorAntonio-Pericles, was off like a gossamer. Angelo induced her to remainon the spot where she stood till the carriage was seen on the Schioroad, when he led her to it, saying that Carlo had serious work to do.Count Karl Lenkenstein was lying in the carriage, supported by Wilfridand by young Leone Rufo, who sat laughing, with one eye under across-bandage and an arm slung in a handkerchief. Vittoria desired towait that she might see her lover once more; but Angelo entreated herthat she should depart, too earnestly to leave her in doubt of therebeing good reason for it and for her lover's absence. He pointed toWilfrid: "Barto Rizzo captured this man; Carlo has released him. Takehim with you to attend on his superior officer." She drew Angelo'sobservation to the first morning colours over the peaks. He looked up,and she knew that he remembered that morning of their flight from theinn. Perhaps he then had the image of his brother in his mind, for thecolours seemed to be plucking at his heart, and he said, "I have losthim."
"God help you, my friend!" said Vittoria, her throat choking.
Angelo pointed at the insensible nobleman: "These live. I do not grudgehim his breath or his chances; but why should these men take so muchkilling? Weisspriess has risen, as though I struck the blow of a babe.But we one shot does for us! Nevertheless, signorina," Angelo smiledfirmly, "I complain of nothing while we march forward."
He kissed his hand to her, and turned back to his troop. The carriagewas soon under the shadows of the mountains.