CHAPTER XXXIII.
A STARTLING DISCOVERY.
"Fixed was her look and stern her air; Back from her shoulders streamed her hair; Her figure seemed to rise more high; Her voice, Despair's wild energy Had given a tone of prophecy."--MARMION.
Weeks passed away. Louis became a daily visitor at the Palazzo B----.His growing intimacy with the beautiful "Queen of Song" was looked uponwith jealous eyes by her numerous admirers; and many were the rumorscirculated regarding her affection for the handsome young American. ButMadame Evelini was either too proud or too indifferent to heed thesereports, and visited Louis in his studio whenever she pleased, leavingthe world to say of her what it listed. Louis, too, was winning fame asan artist, and, next to madame herself, was becoming one of thegreatest celebrities in Venice.
"What a handsome boy that attendant of yours is!" said the lady, oneday, to Louis, as Isadore quitted the room; "all who visit you vie witheach other in their praises of his beauty."
"Who? Isadore? Yes, he is handsome; but a most singular youth--silent,taciturn, at times almost fierce, and at others, sullenly morose."
"He seems to have a strong antipathy to ladies, and to me inparticular," said Madame Evelini; "he looks as if he wished to shut thedoor in my face every time I come here."
"Yes, that is another of his oddities; in fact, he is quite anunaccountable lad."
"He is very much attached to _you_, at all events. If he were a woman, Ishould say he is in love with you, and jealous of the rest of us," saidmadame, laughing. "As it is, it can only be accounted for by ill-natureon his part. Well, adieu!" said madame, rising to take her leave.
Louis soon had a most convincing proof of the lad's attachment. Beingdetained one evening, by some business, in one of the narrow courtsinhabited by the lower class in Venice, he returned with a violentheadache. He grew worse so rapidly, that before night he was in a highfever, raving deliriously.
A physician was sent for, who pronounced it to be a dangerous and mostinfectious fever, and advised his immediate removal to a hospital, wherehe might receive better attendance than he could in his lodgings. ButIsadore positively refused to have him removed, vehemently assertingthat he himself was quite competent to take care of him.
And well did he redeem his word. No mother ever nursed her sick childwith more tender care than he did Louis. Night and day he was ever byhis side, bathing his burning brow, or holding a cooling draught to hisfeverish lips. And though his pale face grew paler day after day, andhis lustrous black eyes lost their brightness with his weary vigils,nothing could tempt him from that sick room. With womanly care, hearranged the pillows beneath the restless head of the invalid; drew thecurtains to exclude the glaring light, totally unheeding the danger ofcontagion. With jealous vigilance, too, he kept out all strangers.Madame Evelini, upon hearing of her friend's illness, immediately cameto see him, but she was met in the outer room by Isadore, who said,coldly:
"You cannot see him, madame; the physician has forbidden it."
"But only for one moment. I will not speak to him, or disturb him,"pleaded Madame Evelini.
"No; you cannot enter. It is impossible," said Isadore, as he turned andleft the room, fairly shutting the door in her face.
In his wild delirium, Louis talked incessantly of Celeste, and urged herwith passionate vehemence to fly with him. At such times, the dark browof Isadore would knit, and his eyes flash with smoldering fire beneaththeir lids. But if his own name was mentioned, his beautiful face wouldlight up with such a radiant look of light and joy, that he seemedrecompensed for all his weary watching and unceasing care.
At length, a naturally strong constitution, and the tender nursing ofIsadore triumphed over disease, and Louis became convalescent. And thenhe began to realize all he owed to the boy who had been hisguardian-angel during his illness.
"How can I ever repay you, Isadore?" he said, one day, as the youthhovered by his side, smoothing the tossed pillows, and arranging thebed-clothes with a skill few nurses could have surpassed.
"I wish for no return, signor. I am only too happy to have been ofservice to you," said the boy, dropping his eyes.
"Well, at least, you will find I am not ungrateful. Once I am well, youshall no longer remain a servant. I will place you in a fair way to makeyour fortune," said Louis.
"Signor, I beg you will not think of such a thing. I have no wish toleave you," said Isadore, in alarm.
"But with me you will only be an obscure servant, while it is in mypower to place you in a situation to become honored and wealthy."
"I would rather remain with you."
"Strange boy! Why are you so anxious to stay with me?"
"Because----"
"Well?"
"Because I love you, Signor," said the boy, while his whole face, amoment before so pale, grew vivid crimson.
Louis looked at him in surprise.
"And what have I done for you, that you should love me so?" he asked, atlength.
"Do we only love those who have conferred favors upon us, Signor?"
"Well, generally speaking, among men it is so. If you were a woman, now,it would be different," said Louis, laughing.
"Would you love me, if I were a woman?" asked the boy, in a tone soabrupt and startling, that Louis gazed at him in wonder.
"Not more than I do now. One cannot _love_ two women at a time, as youwill find out when you grow older."
"Then the signor is already in love?" asked Isadore, raising his darkeyes, now filled with dusky fire.
There was no reply. Louis turned aside restlessly, so that the boy couldnot see the expression of his face. And Isadore, paler than before,seated himself in silence, and fixed his burning black eyes steadily onthe ground.
Louis now rapidly recovered, and in a short time was able to resume hisduties. During his first interview with Madame Evelini, she related thescene that had taken place between her and Isadore.
"His motive in keeping me out was certainly other than the physician'scommands," she said. "In fact, my dear Louis, I should not be surprisedif your Isadore should turn out to be a female in disguise. His conductsavors so strongly of jealousy that I more than half suspect him. Somefiery Italian might have conceived a romantic passion for you, and takenthis means of following you. Those hot-blooded Venetians will do suchthings sometimes."
The words were lightly spoken, but they set Louis to thinking. What ifthey were true? A number of things, trifling in themselves, rushed onhis mind, tending to confirm this opinion. He started up, seized hishat, bade madame a hasty farewell, and started for home, fully resolvedto discover immediately whether or not her words were true.
On entering, he found Isadore standing with folded arms, gazing witheyes almost fiendish with hate upon a picture on the easel. It was theportrait of Celeste as a child, standing as when he first beheld hercaressing her wounded bird. No words can describe the look of fiercehatred with which the boy regarded it.
"Well, Isadore, you seem struck by that painting. Did you ever see asweeter face?" asked Louis, pointing to Celeste, but keeping his eyesfixed steadily on the face of the boy.
"Do you love her?" asked Isadore, hoarsely, without looking up.
"Yes, with my whole heart and soul!" replied Louis, fervently.
"Ungrateful wretch!" cried the youth, in a voice of intense passion; andlifting his head, he disclosed a face so pale, and eyes so full of fire,that Louis started back. "Was it for this that I left home, and country,and friends, that I assumed a disguise like this to follow you? Was itfor such a turn as this I risked my life for yours? Was it for wordslike these I cast aside my pride, and became your menial? Was it notenough for you to call on her unceasingly during your delirium--she whofeared the opinion of the world more than she loved you--while I, whobraved disgrace and death for your sake, was unnamed and forgotten? Lookon me, most ungrateful of men," he continued, almost with a shriek."Look at me; and say, do you yet know me?"
He dashed his cap to the ground, a
nd with features convulsed withcontending passions, stood before him. Louis looked, turned deadly pale,and exclaimed, in a voice of utter surprise:
"Merciful heaven! Minnette!"
Sharing Her Crime: A Novel Page 34
