CHAPTER XV.
"Whither wilt thou lead me? Speak, I'll go no further." _Hamlet._
The Earl had been engaged, as we have before stated, on some businessconnected with the Government that was then in power and the Neapolitaninterests; so busily was he engaged in his occupation that his mind wasthoroughly abstracted from everything else, and he neither saw nor heardanything that was going on around him. His study was immediately beneaththe verandah on which the Countess and his daughter were then sitting.The balcony formed a sort of roof over a tessellated pavement that ledto the lawn; up the pillars and trellised work that supported thisverandah were twined vines and other creepers: these pillars, with theirfestoons, extended the whole length of the villa, and opened into a darkavenue of poplar trees. The windows of his room led to this walk, andbeing in Italian form, opened like a glass door, thus serving the partof window and door at once. They were open at the time we speak of, andthe west wind blew lightly into the chamber, bearing on its wings thearomatic perfume of the orange groves. We have purposely been minute inthis description, and why the reader will judge best by-and-by. Theescritoire, where the Earl pursued his avocation, was placed about acouple of yards from the open window, and he sat with his back to thewestern hills glowing in the departing beams of the setting sun; perhapshe chose this position lest the beauties of nature should call him fromhis duties, and tempt him to neglect his important studies. Several lawbooks in English and Italian lay round him, and these he from time totime consulted, as he wrote. Once he thought a shadow, as of a personcrossing between him and the sun, passed over the sheet he inscribed--itwas perhaps the Countess, or Augusta, so he thought, and without eventurning round he again wrote rapidly.
Had there been a third person in the room (for there were two there) hewould have seen this intruder noiselessly enter by the inviting window;fearful of disturbing the writer, the figure crept on past him, till itstood exactly opposite, treading as if on velvet, so lightly fell eachfootstep. The intruder, an Italian maiden thirteen years of age--thoughthe precocity of her climate gave her the appearance of a girl ofsixteen at least--was dressed in the picturesque costume of themountains. She had almost attained her full height, which was above theaverage, and revelled in all the freshness of a beauty, which, if itmight prove short-lived, was radiant as the flower which fades first,owing to its surpassing bloom. The hot sun of her native hills hadwooed, but not marred, the soft cheek; all its warmth seemed brightlyreceived into it, as in a mirror! large lustrous eyes, gloriously black,fringed by long lashes, full lips of carmine hue, and a nose so slightlyarched as to seem almost, but not altogether Grecian, completed thisdamsel's charms. Her dress was well calculated to set off withoutdetracting from a face which needed no foil, and a form which requiredno art to enhance. Her long hair, dark as night, was braided in broadplaits which fell down her back through the folds of a scarlet silkkerchief, that confined her tresses and contrasted well with their ravenhue, throwing a warmth of colour over all. A tight boddice of black silkvelvet, laced with gold braid, developed the bold outlines of her gentlyheaving breast. A dark-blue skirt descended nearly to her sandals--butnot low enough to hide her well-shaped ankles; a narrow apron of variousbright colours in thin stripes, fringed with gold lace at the hem,completed her costume. She wore a few ornaments all of costlyworkmanship, pendants of gold dropped from her tiny ears, a chain ofpearls encircled her neck; from the end of this string hung a blackcross set with diamonds of great value, and on her fingers sparkledseveral rings. Folding her arms across her bosom she watched the Earl,so occupied in his labours he knew not who watched him. The expressionof the young girl's face was peculiar, and to have seen how earnestlyand lovingly she fixed her gaze on the Earl, a stranger would havethought she knew him and loved him (and yet though she knew him she hadnever before been in his house), or would have imagined she was more tohim than she seemed--in this surmise he would perhaps be nearer themark.
Lord Wentworth was a true lover of nature, besides possessing aconsiderable amount of scientific knowledge. Botany was one of hisfavourite pursuits, and often he was accustomed to take long ridesamongst the hills to pursue his attractive study. Whenever he had benthis course to the Val di Bovino he had been met by a young Italian girl,who, for some unaccountable reason, seemed to have the greatestaffection for him. Whenever she heard the sound of his horse's feet, asif by instinct she was at his side, and with the sweet manners ofsouthern countries used to proffer a bouquet of the most rare andbeautiful wild flowers. He used to talk to her, and often she was hisguide to secluded grots, or dark dells where modest flowers sprung.There was something so innocent in this affection, so charming in theyoung creature who gave it, that she quite won his heart, and faroftener than he would otherwise have done he bent his horse's course tothe Val, and experienced a sort of delight in the company of this childof the South. It was not love--it was a nameless, but pureaffection--more of the affection of a father to his child. He had neveronce missed his little mountain maiden. Unable to devise wherefore shehad so set her fancy on him, he nevertheless felt all the pleasurablesensations of the feelings he inspired. There was another reason why hefelt a peculiar interest in her,--this was the wonderful resemblance shebore to one with whom he had once played so sad a part; she was theimage of Juana Ferraras, as he had known her many years since. So struckwas he with this similitude that he had used every endeavour to try andinduce the little girl to come and visit him, in order that the Countessmight see her--but all his endeavours had proved vain; and though he hadprevailed on the Countess several times to accompany him to the Val inorder to show her his little Leonora--such was the name he knew herby--yet either by a provoking mischance, or well-laid scheme, she wasnever to be seen excepting when he was quite alone; and the Countessused to twit him about her, declaring she must either be a fairy, or anEgeria of his brain. He had given her some rings, and other slightsouvenirs, but she seemed above any pecuniary help--so he had neveroffered her money; he had vainly striven to find out who she was, andwhere she lived; after a period of three months' almost dailycommunication with his mysterious and romantic acquaintance, he had yetfailed in every inquiry, and he began almost to fancy she was some beingunearthly, and perchance a lingering _dryad_ of old, who still hauntedher woodland dell! We have made this digression, as without it themeeting of the Earl and this maiden, for it was she who stood beforehim, would seem unaccountable at the least. A breath more deeply drawnthan her usual respirations attracted at last the attention of the Earlto his visitor. He gazed up from his letter, and was not a littleastonished when he saw his friend there.
"Leonora, my little Egeria--you here? And how did you come, and whatbrings you here?"
"My Lord, I have been here some time; you were so engrossed you did notsee nor hear me enter. I hope I do not intrude."
"Oh! no--such an intrusion does not deserve the name: and what does myEgeria want? Is she come at last to see my lady, and little girl?"
"No, I am come on an important errand--I am a messenger with strangetidings."
"Of good I am sure, such a pretty herald could not bear ill tidings."
"Do not be too confident, my Lord; the bright sunset heralds in blacknight."
"Well, my love, you must tell me, and if I can do anything for you myhelp shall not be lacking."
"It is not here, my Lord, I can tell you; it is not me they concern, butyourself,--will you follow me?"
"Follow you--and whither? Really this is quite romantic and the hourwell chosen! And what can concern me? Well, I will come if it is notfar."
"It is far though; as far as the Val di Bovino."
"On my word, that is a long distance; and it is now getting late,--willnot to-morrow do as well?"
"No, Signore,--to-night; it is of the utmost importance; you know notwhat hangs on your coming."
"But, my love, the Val is not a 'canny place,' as we say in Scotland; itis full of robbers. Now, I fear not for
myself, but my life is of valueto my family; it would not be safe nor right for me to go."
"You need not fear, Signore; no one will touch you. I have a free passfrom Luigi; see here it is (showing a card with some masonic wordswritten on it); you need have no fear with me."
"That alters it certainly. But let me at least tell my wife I am going."
"My Lord, time is precious; lose no more; every minute is of pricelessvalue. Waste no more time, Signore!"
Certainly, thought the Earl, this is a curious predicament, and stillthere is something so romantic in it; I cannot help going,--and yet Imay be doing wrong. But Leonora would not betray me; I am sure of her,safe as steel! But she may be the artless messenger of Luigi, and mylife may be in peril. I do not value it at a straw for myself; butEllen,--no, I ought not to go.
"Leonora, I am not justified in going with you. To-morrow I will meetyou at the Val."
A shade of sorrow passed over the young girl's face. "Alas! Signore;then you trust me not; you think I would lead you to peril. Farewell,Signore. I had thought differently of you; I am sadly mistaken. You haveno confidence; farewell! You will never see your Leonora more, but youmay repent your not following her!"
As she said these words, she mournfully turned away. It was not inmortal to resist any more.
"I wrong you, love, I do!" exclaimed the Earl. "Stay, I will come. Iwill follow you anywhere. There could not be treachery in such a brow!"
"Ah, you are like yourself again! The fearless, the confiding," said thegirl, taking his hand and pressing her lips to it; "you will see youhave nought to fear, for every hair of your head is dear to me as mylife. But, Signore, make haste; we have kept away too long;--this way;no one must see us;--beneath the verandah, down the poplar avenue, andthen away, away!" and the girl clapped her hands with delight.
"But stay, child,--my horse; I must get that; I am not going to walk!"
"Nor need you; but I have got a horse for you all ready; followme--_presto prestissimo!_"
The Earl had just time to fling a cloak over his shoulders, and snatchup a hunting cap, ere she was out of sight. He then followed herquickly,--under the portico, down the avenue, and then through a smallpostern,--and he was outside his gardens, and the Apennines in front.Still his fair guide moved on; she seemed to float rather than walk overthe ground, towards a dark myrtle grove. By this time the sunlight hadquite forsaken the west; the hills had re-assumed their dusky hue, andthe full moon rising in the east began to shed a cold lustre on thedew-bathed landscape. Still in the full vigour of manhood, strong,bounding in health, and with a mind ready for adventure, the Earl sawsomething delightful in the mystery of his errand; the loveliness of hisguide, the hour, the place, the uncertain light of the moon, theoriginality of the whole--all was charming! But yet here was he, a peerof England, a husband of a fond wife, a father of a loving child, racingat night after a stranger almost, a pretty Italian girl, to a well-knownhaunt of robbers, to hear some wonderful story, or see some wonderfulthing. It was ludicrous as well as romantic. He almost began to laugh athimself as he thought what the Marquis would think of him, and to beangry with himself when he thought what anxiety his freak would giveEllen. He had nearly forty miles to ride there and back, and supposingthey did this in four hours' hard riding, allowing a couple of hours fordelay and the time taken in revealing the secret, this would not bringhim home till eleven at night, and during those six hours his wife wouldbe wretched. But it was too late for regrets now; he was pledged tofollow his guide. After all, he thought, I have often been later; shewill but think I have gone to a friend's house, or the library.
Excusing himself thus, he followed Leonora still into the myrtle wood.She at last stopped, and, taking a little ivory whistle from her bosom,blew a signal. In less than two minutes a suspicious-looking man,leading two horses, appeared.[E] He was dark and swarthy in appearance,with long hair and beard untrimmed, as well as fierce moustache; wore apointed hat gaily decked with ribbons, a jacket of crimson velvetembroidered with gold, breeches of dark blue velvet slashed withcrimson, buskins of leather, and long spurs on his heels; his bronzedcomplexion and fierce look argued him a dangerous fellow, perhaps abandit; but a silken sash round his middle, stuck full of pistols,knives, and stilettos, and a musket slung on his back, proclaimed it toocertainly. When the Earl saw this fellow, he began to think he had beenover-ready to follow a stranger; however, Leonora looked incapable oftreachery, and he still trusted her. He made friends with the man byslipping a gold piece into his hand as he took the bridle of his horse.The bandit grinned as he saw it glitter on his palm, showing a white andregular set of teeth. The Earl then lifted his fair guide into her_selle_, which was covered with velvet richly embroidered with gold,gave the silken reins into her hand, and then prepared to mount his ownsteed. The horse he was to ride was a large and powerful Arab, coalblack excepting a star of white on its forehead. The saddle and reinswere of the finest leather, stamped with elegant designs. His guide'swas a pretty jennet of the Andalusian breed, snow-white, with flowingmane and tail. She managed the skittish little animal with greataddress, and as the Earl followed slowly on his own noble charger, hethought he had never seen a prettier pair than guided him,--a moreperfect horsewoman than his guide, a better bred animal than she rodeon. The young girl gently walked her steed till beyond the confines ofthe wood, when she put out its powers more freely along a bye-path. Itwas not long ere they reached the main road, and then, waving her hand,she set off at a breathless speed and soon reached the grassy plains ofthe open country. The Earl, an experienced horseman, easily kept up withhis guide, and he thought he had seldom pressed a nobler horse than theone that bore him.
When they reached the plain, leaving the road, she dashed forward acrossthe sandy ground; the Earl followed. Their horses drove the numerousherds of cattle that fed on the immense pasturage right and left beforethem. Lord Wentworth was in high spirits then, and enjoyed the gallopover the great common as every rider must, especially by moonlight. Thenthere was the romance of the ride, following a beautiful girl to anunknown place, and as his courser's hoofs spurned the sandy soil, healmost shouted the "Tallyho!" of old England in his glee. It was notlong ere they reached the hills, that advanced like great barriers; itseemed as if they were inaccessible and not to be pierced; but as theydrew nearer the Earl saw the gap of a river through the mountains, anddense woods of acacia, arbor vitae, and nut-trees became visible, as wellas the road they had left.
Entering again on the resumed route, Leonora drew the reins to breatheher panting horse; he followed her example, and side by side they beganto walk their horses up the road, gradually becoming steeper as itcrossed the chain of hills. The moon was now getting high in theheavens, and shone with silver rays on the brown mountains and woodsabove and below them. It was dead silence all, save the flow of theriver beneath chafing against its rocky sides, or the shrill cry of the_cicalas_, the rustle of the dried leaves stirred by the passing wind,the tramp of the iron hoof, or the snort of the fiery animals theyscarce compelled into a reluctant walk. Neither spoke a word; he was toobusy with his own thoughts, the girl too modest to begin a conversation.Slowly they paced upwards; the woods grew denser on either side; themountains rose darker; the roar of the waters grew louder; but insilence they still rode on.
They had now reached the middle of the pass, and arrived at the scene ofthe morning's tragedy, of which the Earl as yet knew nothing. The firstthing that caught his eye, was the carriage, which stood in lonelydesertion in the middle of the road; some fifty paces ahead a littlebeyond it his eye caught a glimpse of two poles, one on either side ofthe road, bearing aloft their dread tokens of guilt and murder. The moonshone on the haggard features, and rendered them disgusting and horrid.He shuddered as he saw them; on the road too he perceived numbers ofbodies stretched in various groups. It was like a field of battle. Asthey approached, two or three dark animals rushed away into thewoods,--they were wolves come down on their prey.
"What in God's name has occu
rred here?" said the Earl, as he now passeddirectly beneath the poles, and with difficulty guided his horse amongstthe numerous corpses.
"Some poor travellers whom the Vardarelli robbed and murdered to-day,"answered the girl, with a _sang froid_ that seemed totally unlike her.
"My God!" exclaimed the Earl, "it is even so; these are my unhappyguests! It is Mr. Lennox and his wretched son--I know those ghastlyheads! Leonora, I can go no further; those death-pale faces will longhaunt me!"
"What, Signore, are you come so far, and afraid to go on? True, this isa sad sight--the marks of plunder, rapine, and murder,--but with me youneed not fear."
"You understand me not: these are my friends--they have been cruellybutchered."
"I am sorry they were Signore's friends; but by following me you maygain much--even by finding out about them."
"Wretched girl!" exclaimed Lord Wentworth; "is it possible you belong tothis fierce gang?--so young, so innocent-looking! Ha!" he continued,looking on her with changed expression, "I see it now. I have beendecoyed--duped!--fool that I was to come alone, and unarmed. I shall beset on, and murdered, and my head stuck by those! I will at least givethem a chase for it," and he turned his horse's head.
"Hear me," cried the girl, "you wrong me, Signore--you wrong me! I havenot deserved this! Follow me still--judge not by appearances, they maybe against me: you will live to prove my truth; only have faith in onewho would not for worlds injure you."
"By my soul, you take me for a fool! No, no, fair maiden, prevention isbetter than cure--you shan't get my head without a run for it."
"Once more, listen, my Lord. To return alone, even on that fleet horse,is certain death;--these woods are full of those who never missed theiraim; and to go on with me is your only chance; and I vow by the greatGod--by the blessed Virgin--not a hair of your head shall be injured! Doyou believe me?--look at my face and see if truth is not written there.Oh! for your own--my sake--follow on. I am not what I appear!"
The Earl looked at her; the moon shone full on her face--it was the faceof a Madonna--no shade of falsehood there.
"I will follow--I will trust you; only remember, Signorina, if youdeceive me you break your word, your oath, your honour,--lead on."
The mysterious guide[F] then reining her horse to the left, descendedthrough the woods towards the river. He followed. The descent wasdifficult, and very steep; the moonlight hardly pierced the trees above.
"This girl," he thought, "is either the strangest and most faithful Iever met, or the worst arch-deceiver I ever was duped by."
After a toilsome descent, in which their horses often stumbled, theyapproached the river with its limestone cliffs, and emerged on an opengreen. Here Leonora dismounted, and motioned to the Earl to do the same.She again blew the ivory whistle, a similarly-costumed bandit appeared,received the horses, and decamped as mysteriously as he came.
"Signore," said the girl, "you have promised to trust me; will yousubmit to be blindfolded, for you must no longer see the path you go?"
"Upon my soul, you are determined to give me cause to place myconfidence in you: I suppose you will ask me next if I have anyobjection to be thrown in yonder river? However, have your way,I submit myself entirely to your honour."
Untying a gay scarf that bound her waist, she bandaged the Earl's eyes;then taking his hand led him forward.
The path down which she led him was rough, stony, and seemed extremelysteep. By-and-by he was aware he was crossing a bridge, and heard theriver swirl and roar beneath him; it seemed far below, as near as hecould judge by his ear. His route then lay upward, and ere long he wasaware he had bade adieu to the moonlight and open air. An involuntaryshudder ran through him as he perceived he must now be in a cave, fromthe hollow sound, and the echoes of his clanking strides. His guide feltthe thrill, at least he fancied she must have perceived it, from heralmost immediately afterwards bidding him not to fear. For more than ahundred yards, as he judged, she led him on through this vault; then hebegan to distinguish sounds, which soon resolved themselves into voicesand laughter: they grew more and more distinct, till he could almostcatch the individual words; then a sudden turn in the passage seemed tolead him away from them, and they grew more and more distant, till helost the power of catching them any more.
He heard a footstep next, approaching, nearer and nearer, till it seemedbeside him. His guide stopped, and spoke to the man in a language he didnot understand. A gruff voice answered her. Another shudder ran throughhim as he thought he must now be in a den of robbers, and his lifedepended on the frail thread of a woman's word. Still he did not fearfor himself; and he was determined that if, after all, he had beenduped, he would try and sell his life dearly.
The thought of Ellen, too, oppressed him, and he bitterly cursed hisfolly in trusting himself to such chances. Another turn in the passage,and suddenly, a red glare told him he was again in light. There wassomething at least reinspiriting in being in light;--the thought of anassassin's dagger in the dark is horrible!
Almost immediately after, he felt his guide's fingers untying the scarfthat bound his eyes. She slowly unknotted it, and then, as she left herhold, it dropped on the ground.
The lights dazzled his eyes, long accustomed to the dark, so much, thatfor an instant he could see nothing. When he recovered his sight, thefirst thing he looked for was his guide. She was gone!--the scarf lay athis feet, but she was gone! Had she been only a wraith to lead him sofar, and then forsake him?
"Hath she sunk in the earth, or melted in air? He saw not--he knew not--but nothing was there!"
The Weird of the Wentworths: A Tale of George IV's Time, Vol. 2 Page 15
