CHAPTER XLIV. THE OLD OAK
After receiving the more formal salutations of Attilio and Orazio, Juliadid not forget to turn for a little towards her lover, who had remainedduring all these demonstrations somewhat eclipsed and confused.
Muzio, even when a child of the streets, had always maintained thatdecorum of person and propriety of manner which the remembrance of hisnoble birth imposed upon him; and now Julia had reason indeed to admirethe change wrought in him by his life in the forest.
The position of the last scion of the house of Pompeo had truly improvedof late. Scipio, the faithful and devoted servant who had voluntarilytaken charge of him when a baby, and tended him with such devotedaffection, was dead; but before dying, he imparted, by writing, toCardinal S------, Muzio s maternal uncle, the history of his youngmaster's life, and a statement of his family property. The prelate gavehis solicitor orders to put himself in communication with Muzio, tosupply him with all he needed, and to endeavor to bring him back intothe sheepfold of respectability.
The prelate, moreover, had kindly intentions towards his nephew on hisown part, and meditated adding something from his own possessions tothe paternal estates which had passed so fraudulently into the hands ofPaolotti's vultures, and which he saw the way to recover.
This sudden change of fortune happened to Muzio about the end of theyear 1866, in which the Italians, in spite of the undesirable meansused, gained re-possession of their own soil, and got rid of the foreignfriends of the priesthood.
It was, therefore, not an untimely thing for
Cardinal S------ to be able to say, "I have a nephew who is a Liberal,and one of the first temper, too." It was become of consequence, even toa prelate, to be on friendly terms with such a nephew.
Julia contemplated the transformation of Muzio's appearance and apparelwith natural pleasure, yet she had loved him so much as a wanderer ofthe city, that she almost wished him back again in the poor but gracefulcloak of a Trastevere model.
Muzio made no audible reply to his lady's gentle words of recognition,but kissed her hand with a devotion that needed no speeches to mark itsintensity, and which could not be better translated than by his enamoredmistress's heart.
And Clelia and Irene were, of course, happy at being once more safein the society of their chosen. Happiness was depicted upon all theseyouthful faces; and, in truth, it is necessary to; confess that, opposedas all good hearts are to bloodshed, the hour of victory is a gloriousone, and we, like many others, have enjoyed that wild and stem delight.At that moment the mind does not much reflect that the field is coveredwith the wounded and the dying. Their cries and our own exhaustion arealike unheeded. We are victorious; our cause has conquered. We haverouted the enemies. All meetings on the field take a joyous tone fromthat proud thought, and every fresh friend, as he comes up, receives ahearty squeeze of the hand, and is a centre of fresh congratulations.
Brothers have killed brothers. Yes, alas! Manzoni is right! but theheart of man forgets that sad verity so long as the flush of victoryis cast upon it. Ah! when will the people become brethren indeed, andexchange the savage bliss of triumph for the noble and placid joys ofpeace? Ere long, let us hope! So, be sure, hoped and prayed that band,under an ancient oak upon the emerald sod of the forest, where thechiefs of the proscribed sat with those noble and tender women whosestrange fate had brought them together on the field of conflict. Theywere so beautiful, so attractive to be in such a place! With faceskindled by pride and love, they spread around them a light of joy anda sense of praise and sanction; an atmosphere of grace mingled withgallant spirit, which almost rendered their companions eager to fightagain and again under such glorious eyes.
Silvia was the first to break the thread of felicitations, and said toJulia, "But Manlio, where did you leave him?"
"Manlio," replied the English woman, "is with the Recluse on the island;I left him in excellent health, and promised to take him news of you.""And what is the General's opinion concerning affairs in Rome?" askedAttilio.
"He," replied Julia, "approves of the noble conduct of the few Romanswho harass the Papal Government, and who protest by their rebellion tothe world that that abomination is no longer compatible with the age;yet he applauds also the endurance with which you have waited for ageneral movement until now, so as not to trouble the advancement ofnational unity, thus depriving the foreigner of a pretext to createfurther obstacles. But at the same time he is of opinion that as long asthe Italian Government continues to remain kneeling at the feet of theMaster of France, and, to please him, renounces Rome as the capital ofour fatherland--while it supports the wicked priesthood, you must beready to decide these questions by arms, and that every man-in Italy whopossesses an Italian heart ought to be prepared to support you."
"Yes," said Muzio, who had been muttering the word "endurance" eversince it was spoken by Julia--"yes, but patience is the virtue of theass. We Romans have had too much of it; we have been, and still aresuperabundantly asinine. It is a disgrace to us that we still toleratethe roost iniquitous and degrading of human tyrannies, and suffer thepriests to be our jailers."
"And is this island from which you come far off?" inquired the gentleSilvia, who was thinking most about the dear companion of her life."Could we not go and pass a few days there?"
"Nothing is easier," answered Julia, to whom the question was put. "Weare close to the frontier, we have only to cross it, and make our wayto Leghorn, where the _Seagull_ is lying, and sail from thence to theisland, which is not far distant. But you must also know of the marriageof Captain Thompson and your friend Aurelia, which took place lately inthat solitary retreat in the simple patriarchal manner, for there are nopriests there."
"Per _la grazia di Dio!_" here exclaimed Orazio to himself, rising andstretching his athletic figure to its full height, as he cast a lookto the western extremity of the wood. "What are these fresh arrivals?"whereupon they all saw advancing towards them a robust youth,accompanied by a beautiful girl, not much his junior, but upon whosemelancholy face the traces of suffering and misfortune were too plainlyvisible.
The new-comers were quickly perceived to be Silvio and Camilla; and hereit should be known that our hunter, after the decision of the Liberalsto abandon the Roman suburbs, went to bid farewell to his unhappymistress, whom he could not cease to love, before setting out for thenorth.
Arriving at Marcello's house, he was welcomed as usual by Fido andMarcellino, and found Camilla kneeling, as was her daily habit, besideher father's grave.
"Just God! can another's crime plunge a simple and innocent soulinto misery and madness for life?" thought Silvio, as he regarded theprostrate girl, and almost unconsciously he prayed aloud, "Oh, heaven!restore her reason, and to me the star of my life!"
Camilla turned at these words with a look first of fright, then of anew and wonderful tenderness. It was plain that that compassionate andforgiving prayer had caused the inmost fibres of her heart to vibrate,and, obeying a mighty and impulsive instinct, she sank into the oldsweet sanctuary of her lover's arms. With their heads hidden on eachother's breasts, they dispensed with explanations--they made no newvows--mighty love was healer and interpreter. Tears fell fast fromCamilla's eyes, but not sad tears now. A great sorrow and a bitter sinhad dethroned her reason--a great pardon and a noble love set it backagain in its happy seat.
Rule of the Monk; Or, Rome in the Nineteenth Century Page 45
