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The Lady Paramount

Page 24

by Henry Harland


  XXIV

  That morning Anthony had received a letter from Miss Sandus. It wasdated and postmarked Craford, where, indeed, (although Miss Sandus wasnow at Isola Nobile), it had been written. It had been written atSusanna's request, almost under her dictation. Then she had given itto a confidential servant, with orders that it should be committed tothe post three days after her departure.

  "I sometimes forget, my dear," Miss Sandus had improved the occasion toremark, "that you are not English; but the Italian in you comes out inyour unconquerable passion for intrigue."

  The initial and principal paragraph of the letter ran as follows:--

  "Do you remember once upon a time complaining to me of your lady-lovethat she was rich? and setting up her wealth as an obstacle to yourhappy wooing?--and how I pooh-poohed the notion? Well, now, it wouldappear, that obstacle is by way of being removed. You will havelearned in your copy-book days that Fortune is a mighty uncertaingoddess. And I am writing by Susanna's desire to let you know thatcircumstances have quite suddenly arisen which make it seem likely thatshe may be in some danger, if not actually on the point, of losingnearly everything that she possesses. I don't altogether clearlyunderstand the matter, but it springs from some complication in herfamily, and a question whether a rather distant relative has n't abetter claim than her own upon the properties she has been enjoying.She wishes me to tell you this, because, as she says, 'It may make somedifference in his plans.' I am well aware, of course, as I haveassured her, that it will make none--unless, indeed, it may intensifyyour impatience for an early wedding-day. But she insists upon mywriting; and when she insists, I notice that no one ever for very longresists. What is that mysterious virtue, which some people have inabundance, (but most of us so abundantly lack), by which one iscompelled, if they say _go_, to go, if they say _come_, to come? Thereis a question for you to meditate, as you walk by the shores of theAdriatic, under 'the golden leaves of the olives.' I wonder whetheryou will recollect from what poet that is quoted--'the golden leaves ofthe olives.' Well, they _are_ golden in certain lights."

  I dare say Anthony was still digesting his letter from Miss Sandus,when it was followed by the somewhat startling visit of CommendatoreFregi; and perhaps he was still under the impression of that, when, inthe afternoon, he was summoned from a game of tennis, to receive thecommunication which I transcribe below, from the Contessa di Sampaolo.It was brought to him by a Capuchin friar, a soft-spoken, aged man,with a long milk-white beard, who said he would wait for an answer.

  The Pontes, their tennis thus interrupted, strolled off towards thestables, leading Adrian with them,--an Adrian consumed, I fancy, bycuriosity to know what business a Capuchin friar might have to transactwith his friend. "Of course it is something to do with the plots andplans of my lady," he reflected; "but exactly _what_? If people takeyou into their confidence, they ought to take you into the entirety ofit, and keep you _au courant_ as the theme develops."

  Anthony paused for an instant to admire his correspondent's strong,clear-flowing, determined hand; and then, in that stiff-jointed, formalTuscan of the schools, which no human being was ever heard to speak,but educated Italians will persist in writing, he read:--

  "Illustrissimo Signore e caro Cugino"--Nay, better translate:--

  "Most Illustrious Sir and dear Cousin: From my earliest childhood Ihave always felt that the Revolution of 1850 was accompanied by greatinjustices, and particularly that, without reference to the politicalchanges, there should have been no transfer of the hereditaments of ourfamily from the legal heir, your Excellency's father, then a minor, tohis uncle, my grandfather. At the age of twelve I made a vow, beforethe shrine of our Sainted Progenitor, that if ever the power to do soshould be mine, I would set this injustice right.

  "By the testament of my father, however, I was left under the controlof a guardian until I was twenty-two, which age I attained in Aprillast. Since April I have been constantly in the intention of restoringto the head of my family the properties that are rightly his. But manyimpeding circumstances, besides the dissuasions of friends whose ageand wisdom I was concerned to regard, have detained me until now, when,learning that your Excellency is sojourning in the island, I feel thatI must no longer postpone an act of due reparation.

  "As I am but the life-tenant of these estates, and as your Excellency,being my nearest male kinsman, is legally my heir-apparent, (thoughmorally always the head of our house), I can, I am informed, make theestates over to you by entering a Religious Order, and taking vows ofcelibacy for life. The small fortune which I have inherited from mymother will provide me with the dowry necessary to this step.

  "Most Illustrious Sir and dear Cousin, it would give me great pleasureto make the acquaintance of your Excellency, and to do homage to theChief of the House of San Guido, before my retirement from the world.The good Father Angelo, who bears this letter, who has my fullconfidence and approves of my purpose, will bring me your Excellency'sanswer, to say if and when you will honour me with your presence atIsola Nobile.

  "I beg leave to subscribe myself. Most Illustrious Sir and dearCousin, with sentiments of distinguished respect and affection, of yourLordship's Excellency the good cousin,

  "S. del Valdeschi della Spina, Contessa di Sampaolo."

  "Al Illmo. Signore, S. E. il Conte di Sampaolo, Alla Villa del Ponte, Vallanza."

  Anthony, his cousin's letter held at arm's length, turned to thewhite-bearded Capuchin, where he stood in his brown habit, patientlywaiting, with his clasped hands covered by his sleeves.

  "My dear Father," he said, speaking quickly, his face white, his eyestroubled, "the Countess tells me that you have her full confidence andapprove her purpose. But do you _know_ what purpose she has intimatedhere?"

  "Yes," said Father Angelo, calmly, bowing his head.

  "But then," Anthony hurried on, his excitement unconcealed, "it isimpossible you should approve it--it is impossible any one shouldapprove it. She must be stopped. The thing she proposes to do is outof all reason. I cannot allow it. Her friends must not allow it. Herfriends must prevent it."

  "The thing she proposes to do is an act of simple justice," said theFather, in his soft voice.

  Anthony waved his arms, intolerantly.

  "Simple justice--or simple madness," he said, "it is a thing that mustnot even be discussed. She is twenty-two years old--she is achild--she is irresponsible--she does n't, she can't, know what she isdoing. She proposes to impoverish herself, to condemn herself to aconvent for life, and, so far as one can see, without the slightestvocation. Her friends must restrain her."

  "She is not a person easily restrained, when she has made up her mind,"said the Father, quietly.

  "At all events," said Anthony, "she will be restrained in spite ofherself, if the fact is impressed upon her that the sacrifice shecontemplates making on my behalf is one that I will not accept--that noman could accept. She can't make her properties over to me if I refuseto accept them."

  "No, I suppose she cannot," said Father Angelo. His hand came forthfrom his sleeve, to stroke his beard, thoughtfully. "But theproperties are in all right and justice yours. Why should you notaccept them? You are the legitimate Conte di Sampaolo. You areentitled to your own."

  "My dear Father!" Anthony cried out, almost writhing. "It is a matter,I tell you, that I cannot even discuss. Accept them! And allow aninexperienced young girl, who can't possibly understand theconsequences of her action, on a quixotic impulse, to beggar herselffor me, to give up everything, to retire from the world and die by slowinches in a convent! The thing is too monstrous. A man could neverhold up his head again."

  "It would be well," said the Father, slowly, "if you were to tell herthis in person. You had better see her, and tell her it in person."

  "When can I see her?" Anthony asked, impetuous.

  "When you will. She much desires to see you," the Father answered.

  "The sooner, the better," said Anthony. "The sooner she defini
tely andpermanently dismisses this folly from her mind, the better for everyone concerned."

  "Possibly you could go with me now?" the Father suggested. "Herlaunch, which brought me here, attends at the end of the garden."

  "Certainly I will go with you now," said Anthony. "Wait while I put ona coat."

  He ran back to the tennis-court, caught up his coat, and donned it.Then, all heated and in flannels as he was, he accompanied FatherAngelo to the launch.

 

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