CHAPTER XLIV
THE WIFE AND THE HUSBAND
When they were alone Merthyr said: "I cannot give many minutes, not muchtime. I have to speak to your husband."
She answered: "Give me many minutes--much time. All other speaking isvain here."
"It concerns his safety."
"It will not save him."
"But I have evidence that he is betrayed. His plans are known; a trap isset for him. If he moves, he walks into a pit."
"You would talk reason, Merthyr," Vittoria sighed. "Talk it to me. I canlisten; I thirst for it. I beat at the bars of a cage all day. When Isaw you this afternoon, I looked on another life. It was too sudden,and I swooned. That was my only show of weakness. Since then you are theonly strength I feel."
"Have they all become Barto Rizzos?" Merthyr exclaimed.
"Beloved, I will open my mind to you," said Vittoria. "I am cowardly,and I thought I had such courage! Tonight a poor mad creature has beenhere, who has oppressed me, I cannot say how long, with real fear--thatI only understand now that I know the little ground I had for it. I ameven pleased that one like Barto Rizzo should see me in a better light.I find the thought smiling in my heart when every other thing is utterlydark there. You have heard that Carlo goes to Brescia. When I wasmarried, I lost sight of Italy, and everything but happiness. I sufferas I deserve for it now. I could have turned my husband from this blackpath; I preferred to dream and sing. I would not see--it was my pridethat would not let me see his error. My cowardice would not let me woundhim with a single suggestion. You say that he is betrayed. Then he isbetrayed by the woman who has never been unintelligible to me. We werein Turin surrounded by intrigues, and there I thanked her so much forleaving me the days with my husband by Lake Orta that I did not seek toopen his eyes to her. We came to Milan, and here I have been thankingher for the happy days in Turin. Carlo is no longer to blame if he willnot listen to me. I have helped to teach him that I am no better thanany of these Italian women whom he despises. I spoke to him as his wifeshould do, at last. He feigned to think me jealous, and I too rememberthe words of the reproach, as if they had a meaning. Ah, my friend!I would say of nothing that it is impossible, except this task ofrecovering lost ground with one who is young. Experience of trouble hasmade me older than he. When he accused me of jealousy, I could mentionCountess d'Isorella's name no more. I confess to that. Yet I knew myhusband feigned. I knew that he could not conceive the idea of jealousyexisting in me, as little as I could imagine unfaithfulness in him. Butmy lips would not take her name! Wretched cowardice cannot go farther.I spoke of Rome. As often as I spoke, that name was enough to shakeme off: he had but to utter it, and I became dumb. He did it to obtainpeace; for no other cause. So, by degrees, I have learnt the fataltruth. He has trusted her, for she is very skilful; distrusting her,for she is treacherous. He has, therefore, believed excessively in hisability to make use of her, and to counteract her baseness. I saw hiserror from the first; and I went on dreaming and singing; and now thisnight has come!"
Vittoria shadowed her eyes.
"I will go to him at once," said Merthyr.
"Yes; I am relieved. Go, dear friend," she sobbed; "you have given metears, as I hoped. You will not turn him; had it been possible, could Ihave kept you from him so long? I know that you will not turn him fromhis purpose, for I know what a weight it is that presses him forward inthat path. Do not imagine our love to be broken. He will convince youthat it is not. He has the nature of an angel. He permitted me to speakbefore these men to-night--feeble thing that I am! It was a last effort.I might as well have tried to push a rock."
She rose at a noise of voices in the hall below.
"They are going, Merthyr. See him now. There may be help in heaven; ifone could think it! If help were given to this country--if help wereonly visible! The want of it makes us all without faith."
"Hush! you may hear good news from Carlo Alberto in a few hours," saidMerthyr.
"Ask Laura; she has witnessed how he can be shattered," Vittoria repliedbitterly.
Merthyr pressed her fingers. He was met by Carlo on the stairs.
"Quick!" Carlo said; "I have scarce a minute to spare. I have my adieuxto make, and the tears have set in already. First, a request: youwill promise to remain beside my wife; she will want more than her ownstrength."
Such a request, coming from an Italian husband, was so great a proof ofthe noble character of his love and his knowledge of the woman he loved,that Merthyr took him in his arms and kissed him.
"Get it over quickly, dear good fellow," Carlo murmured; "you havesomething to tell me. Whatever it is, it's air; but I'll listen."
They passed into a vacant room. "You know you are betrayed," Merthyrbegan.
"Not exactly that," said Carlo, humming carelessly.
"Positively and absolutely. The Countess d'Isorella has sold yoursecrets."
"I commend her to the profit she has made by it."
"Do you play with your life?"
Carlo was about to answer in the tone he had assumed for the interview.He checked the laugh on his lips.
"She must have some regard for my life, such as it's worth, since, totell you the truth, she is in the house now, and came here to give mefair warning."
"Then, you trust her."
"I? Not a single woman in the world!--that is, for a conspiracy."
It was an utterly fatuous piece of speech. Merthyr allowed it to slip,and studied him to see where he was vulnerable.
"She is in the house, you say. Will you cause her to come before me?"
"Curiously," said Carlo, "I kept her for some purpose of the sort. WillI? and have a scandal now? Oh! no. Let her sleep."
Whether he spoke from noble-mindedness or indifference, Merthyr couldnot guess.
"I have a message from your friend Luciano. He sends you his love, incase he should be shot the first, and says that when Lombardy is free hehopes you will not forget old comrades who are in Rome."
"Forget him! I would to God I could sit and talk of him for hours.Luciano! Luciano! He has no wife."
Carlo spoke on hoarsely. "Tell me what authority you have for chargingCountess d'Isorella with... with whatever it may be."
"A conversation between Countess Anna of Lenkenstein and a Major Nagen,in the Duchess of Graatli's house, was overheard by our Beppo.They spoke German. The rascal had a German sweetheart with him. Sheimprisoned him for some trespass, and had come stealing in to rescuehim, when those two entered the room. Countess Anna detailed to Nagenthe course of your recent plotting. She named the hour this morning whenyou are to start for Brescia. She stated what force you have, what armsyou expect; she named you all."
"Nagen--Nagen," Carlo repeated; "the man's unknown to me."
"It's sufficient that he is an Austrian officer."
"Quite. She hates me, and she has reason, for she's aware that I mean tofight her lover, and choose my time. The blood of my friends is on thatman's head."
"I will finish what I have to say," pursued Merthyr. "When Beppo hadrelated as much as he could make out from his sweetheart's translation,I went straight to the duchess. She is an Austrian, and a good andreasonable woman. She informed me that a letter addressed by CountessAnna to Countess d'Isorella fell into her hands this night. She burnt itunopened. I leave it to you to consider whether you have been betrayedand who has betrayed you. The secret was bought. Beppo himself caughtthe words, 'from a mercenary Italian.' The duchess tells me thatCountess Anna is in the habit of alluding to Countess d'Isorella inthose terms."
Carlo stretched his arms like a man who cannot hide the yawning fit.
"I promised my wife five minutes, though we have had the worst of theparting over. Perhaps you will wait for me; I may have a word to say."
He was absent for little more than the space named. When he returned, hewas careful to hide his face. He locked the door, and leading Merthyr toan inner room, laid his watch on the table, and said: "Now, friend,you will see that I have nothing to shrink fro
m, for I am going to doexecution upon myself, and before him whom I would, above all othermen, have think well of me. My wife supposes that I am pledged to thisBrescian business because I am insanely patriotic. If I might joinLuciano tomorrow I would shout like a boy. I would be content to serveas the lowest in the ranks, if I might be with you all under the Chief.Rome crowns him, and Brescia is my bloody ditch, and it is deserved!When I was a little younger--I am a boy still, no doubt--I had thehonour to be distinguished by a handsome woman; and when I grew a littleolder, I discovered by chance that she had wit. The lady is the CountessVioletta d'Isorella. It is a grief to me to know that she is sordid:it hurts my vanity the more. Perhaps: you begin to perceive that vanitygoverns me. The signora Laura has not expressed her opinion on thissubject with any reserve, but to Violetta belongs the merit of havingseen it without waiting for the signs. First--it is a small matter, butyou are English--let me assure you that my wife has had no rival. I havetaunted her with jealousy when I knew that it was neither in her natureto feel it, nor in mine to give reason for it. No man who has a spark ofhis Maker in him could be unfaithful to such a woman. When Lombardy wascrushed, we were in the dust. I fancy we none of us knew how miserablywe had fallen--we, as men. The purest--I dare say, the bravest--marchedto Rome. God bless my Luciano there! But I, sir, I, my friend, I,Merthyr, I said proudly that I would not abandon a beaten country: and Iwas admired for my devotion. The dear old poet, Agostino, praised me.It stopped his epigrams--during a certain time, at least. Colonel Corteadmired me. Marco Sana, Giulio Bandinelli admired me. Vast numbersadmired me. I need not add that I admired myself. I plunged intointrigues with princes, and priests, and republicans. A clever woman wasat my elbow. In the midst of all this, my marriage: I had seven weeks ofpeace; and then I saw what I was. You feel that you are tired, when youwant to go another way and you feel that you have been mad when you wantto undo your work. But I could not break the chains I had wrought, forI was a chief of followers. The men had come from exile, or theyhad refused to join the Roman enterprise:--they, in fact, had boundthemselves to me; and that means, I was irrevocably bound to them. I hadan insult to wipe out: I refrained from doing it, sincerely, I may tellyou, on the ground that this admired life of mine was precious. I willheap no more clumsy irony on it: I can pity it. Do you see now how Istand? I know that I cannot rely on the king's luck or on the skill ofhis generals, or on the power of his army, or on the spirit in Lombardy:neither on men nor on angels. But I cannot draw back. I have set goinga machine that's merciless. From the day it began working, every momenthas added to its force. Do not judge me by your English eyes: otherlands, other habits; other habits, other thoughts. And besides, ifhonour said nothing, simple humanity would preserve me from leaving myband to perish like a flock of sheep."
He uttered this with a profound conviction of his quality as leader,that escaped the lurid play of self-inspection which characterized whathe had previously spoken, and served singularly in bearing witness tothe truth of his charge against himself.
"Useless!" he said, waving his hand at anticipated remonstrances."Look with the eyes of my country; not with your own, my friend. I amdisgraced if I do not go out. My friends are disgraced if I do not headthem in. Brescia--sacrificed!--murdered!--how can I say what? Can I liveunder disgrace or remorse? The king stakes on his army; I on the king.Whether he fights and wins, or fights and loses, I go out. I havepromised my men--promised them success, I believe!--God forgive me! Didyou ever see a fated man before? None had plotted against me. I havewoven my own web, and that's the fatal thing. I have a wife, thesweetest woman of her time. Goodnight to her! our parting is over."
He glanced at his watch. "Perhaps she will be at the door below. Herheart beats like mine just now. You wish to say that you think mebetrayed, and therefore I may draw back? Did you not hear that Bergamohas risen? The Brescians are up too by this time. Gallant Brescians!they never belie the proverb in their honour; and to die among themwould be sweet if I had all my manhood about me. You would have memaking a scene with Violetta."
"Set the woman face to face with me!" cried Merthyr, sighting a gleam ofhope.
Carlo smiled. "Can she bear my burden though she be ten times guilty?Let her sleep. I have her here harmless for the night. The Brescians areup:--that's an hour that has struck, and there's no calling it to movea step in the rear. Brescia under the big Eastern hill which throwsa cloak on it at sunrise! Brescia is always the eagle that looks overLombardy! And Bergamo! you know the terraces of Bergamo. Aren't theylike a morning sky? Dying there is not death; it's flying into the dawn.You Romans envy us. Come, confess it; you envy us. You have no Alps,no crimson hills, nothing but old walls to look on while you fight.Farewell, Merthyr Powys. I hear my servant's foot outside. My horse isawaiting me saddled, a mile from the city. Perhaps I shall see my wifeagain at the door below, or in heaven. Addio! Kiss Luciano for me. Tellhim that I knew myself as well as he did, before the end came. Enrico,Emilio, and the others--tell them I love them. I doubt if there willever be but a ghost of me to fight beside them in Rome. And there's nohonour, Merthyr, in a ghost's fighting, because he's shotproof; so Iwon't say what the valiant disembodied 'I' may do by-and-by."
He held his hands out, with the light soft smile of one who asksforgiveness for flippant speech, and concluded firmly: "I have talkedenough, and you are the man of sense I thought you; for to give meadvice is childish when no power on earth could make me follow it.Addio! Kiss me."
They embraced. Merthyr said no more than that he would place messengerson the road to Brescia to carry news of the king's army. His voice wasthick, and when Carlo laughed at him, his sensations strangely reversedtheir situations.
There were two cloaked figures at different points in the descent ofthe stairs. These rose severally at Carlo's approach, took him to theirbosoms, and kissed him in silence. They were his mother and Laura. Athird crouched by the door of the courtyard, which was his wife.
Merthyr kept aloof until the heavy door rolled a long dull sound.Vittoria's head was shawled over. She stood where her husband had lefther, groping for him with one hand, that closed tremblingly hard onMerthyr when he touched it. Not a word was uttered in the house.
Vittoria — Complete Page 44
