Vittoria — Complete

by George Meredith

  CHAPTER XLV

  SHOWS MANY PATHS CONVERGING TO THE END

  Until daylight Merthyr sat by himself, trying to realize the progressivesteps of the destiny which seemed like a visible hand upon CountAmmiani, that he might know it to be nothing else than Carlo's work. Hesat in darkness in the room where Carlo had spoken, thinking of himas living and dead. The brilliant life in Carlo protested against apossible fatal tendency in his acts so irrevocable as to plunge him todestruction when his head was clear, his blood cool, and a choice layopen to him. That brilliant young life, that fine face, the tones ofCarlo's voice, swept about Merthyr, accusing him of stupid fatalism.Grief stopped his answer to the charge; but in his wise mind he knewCarlo to have surveyed things justly; and that the Fates are withinus. Those which are the forces of the outer world are as shadows tothe power we have created within us. He felt this because it was hisgathered wisdom. Human compassion, and love for the unhappy youth,crushed it in his heart, and he marvelled how he could have beenparalyzed when he had a chance of interceding. Can a man stay a torrent?But a noble and fair young life in peril will not allow our philosophyto liken it to things of nature. The downward course of a fall thattakes many waters till it rushes irresistibly is not the course of anylife. Yet it is true that our destiny is of our own weaving. Carlo'sinvolvements cast him into extreme peril, almost certain death, unlesshe abjured his honour, dearer than a life made precious by love. Merthyrsaw that it was not vanity, but honour; for Carlo stood pledged to leada forlorn enterprise, the ripeness of his own scheming. In the imminenthour Carlo had recognized his position as Merthyr with the wisdom ofyears looked on it. That was what had paralyzed the older man, thoughhe could not subsequently trace the cause. Thinking of the beauty ofthe youth, husband of the woman who was to his soul utterly an angel,Merthyr sat in the anguish of self-accusation, believing that someremonstrance, some inspired word, might have turned him, and halfdreading to sound his own heart, as if an evil knowledge of his naturehaunted it.

  He rose up at last with a cry. The door opened, and Giacinta, Vittoria'smaid, appeared, bearing a lamp. She had been sitting outside, waitingto hear him stir before she intruded. He touched her cheek kindly, andthought that one could do little better than die, if need were, in theservice of such a people. She said that her mistress was kneeling. Shewished to make coffee for him, and Merthyr let her do it, knowing thecomfort there is to a woman in the ministering occupation of her hands.It was soon daylight. Beppo had not come back to the house.

  "No one has left the house?" Merthyr asked.

  "Not since--" she answered convulsively.

  "The Countess d'Isorella is here?"

  "Yes, signore."

  "Asleep?" he put the question mournfully, in remembrance of Carlo's "Lether sleep!"

  "Yes, signore; like the first night after confession."

  "She resides, I think, in the Corso Venezia. When she awakens, let herknow that I request to have the honour of conducting her."

  "Yes, signore. Her carriage is still at the gates. The countess's horsesare accustomed to stand."

  Merthyr knew this for a hint against his leaving, as well as against thelady's character.

  "Let your mistress be assured that I shall on no account be long absentat any time."

  "Signore, I shall do so," said Giacinta.

  She brought him word soon after, that Countess d'Isorella was stirring.Merthyr met Violetta on the stairs.

  "Can it be true?" she accosted him first.

  "Count Ammiani has left for Brescia," he replied.

  "In spite of my warning?"

  Merthyr gave space for her to pass into the room. She appearedundecided, saying that she had a dismal apprehension of her not havingdismissed her coachman overnight.

  "In spite of my warning," she murmured again, "he has really gone?Surely I cannot have slept more than three hours."

  "It was Count Ammiani's wish that you should enjoy your full sleepundisturbed in his house," said Merthyr, "As regards your warning tohim, he has left Milan perfectly convinced of the gravity of a warningthat comes from you."

  Violetta shrugged lightly. "Then all we have to do is to pray for thesuccess of Carlo Alberto."

  "Oh! pardon me, countess," Merthyr rejoined, "prayers may be useful, butyou at least have something to do besides."

  His eyes caught hers firmly as they were letting a wild look ofinterrogation fall on him, and he continued with perfect courtesy, "Youwill accompany me to see Countess Anna of Lenkenstein. You have greatinfluence, madame. It is not Count Ammiani's request; for, as I informedyou, it was his wish that you should enjoy your repose. The request ismine, because his life is dear to me. Nagen, I think, is the name of theAustrian officer who has started for Brescia."

  She had in self-defence to express surprise while he spoke, whichcompelled her to meet his mastering sight and submit to a struggleof vision sufficient to show him that he had hit a sort of guiltyconsciousness. Otherwise she was not discomposed, and with marvelloussagacity she accepted the forbearance he assumed, not affectinginnocence to challenge it, as silly criminals always do when they areexposed, but answering quite in the tone of innocence, and so throwingthe burden by an appearance of mutual consent on some unnamed thirdperson.

  "Certainly; let us go to Countess Anna of Lenkenstein, if you think fit.I have to rely on your judgement. I quite abjure my own. If I have toplead for anything, I am going before a woman, remember."

  "I do not forget it," said Merthyr.

  "The expedition to Brescia may be unfortunate," she resumed hurriedly;"I wish it had not been undertaken. At any rate, it rescues CountAmmiani from an expedition to Rome, and his slavish devotion to thatpriest-hating man whom he calls, or called, his Chief. At Brescia he isnot outraging the head of our religion. That is a gain."

  "A gain for him in the next world?" said Merthyr. "I believe thatCountess Anna of Lenkenstein is also a fervent Catholic; is she not?"

  "I trust so."

  "On behalf of her peace of mind, I trust so, too. In that case, she alsomust be a sound sleeper."

  "We shall have to awaken her. What excuse--what am I to say to her?"

  "I beg you to wait for the occasion, Countess d'Isorella. The words willcome."

  Violetta bit her lip. She had consented to this extraordinary step inan amazement. As she contemplated it now, it seemed worse than a partialconfession and an appeal to his generosity. She broke out in pity forher horses, in dread of her coachman, declaring that it was impossiblefor her to give him the order to drive her anywhere but home.

  "With your permission, countess, I will undertake to give him theorder," said Merthyr.

  "But have you no compassion, signor Powys? and you are an Englishman! Ithought that Englishmen were excessively compassionate with horses."

  "They have been known to kill them in the service of their friends,nevertheless."

  "Well!"--Violetta had recourse to the expression of her shoulders--"andI am really to see Countess Anna?"

  "In my presence."

  "Oh! that cannot be. Pardon me; it is impossible. She will decline thescene. I say it with the utmost sincerity: I know that she will refuse."

  "Then, countess," Merthyr's face grew hard, "if I am not to be in yourcompany to prompt you, allow me to instruct you beforehand."

  Violetta looked at him eagerly, as one looks for tidings, with aninvoluntary beseeching quiver of the strained eyelids.

  "No irony!" she said, fearing horribly that he was about to throw offthe mask of irony.

  This desperate effort of her wits at the crisis succeeded.

  Merthyr, not knowing what design he had, hopeless of any definite end intormenting the woman, and never having it in his mind merely to punish,was diverted by the exclamation to speak ironically. "You can tellCountess Anna that it is only her temporal sovereign who is attacked,and that therefore--" he could not continue.

  "Some affection?" he murmured, in intense grief.

  His manly forbearance touched he
r whose moral wit was too blunt toapprehend the contempt in it.

  "Much affection--much!" Violetta exclaimed. "I have a deep affection forCount Ammiani; an old friendship. Believe me! believe me! I came herelast night to save him. Anything on earth that I can do, I will do--onmy honour; and do not smile at that--I have never pledged it withoutfulfilling the oath. I will not sleep while I can aid in preserving him.He shall know that I am not the base person he has conceived me to be.You, signor Powys, are not a man to paint all women black that are alittle less than celestial--are you? I am told it is a trick with yourcountrymen; and they have a poet who knew us! I entreat you toconfide in me. I am at present quite unaware that Count Ammiani runsparticular--I mean personal danger. He is in danger, of course; everyonecan see it. But, on my honour--and never in my life have I spoken soearnestly, my friends would hardly recognize me--I declare to you on myfaith as a Christian lady, I am ignorant of any plot against him. Ican take a Cross and kiss it, like a peasant, and swear to you by theMadonna that I know nothing of it."

  She corrected her ardour, half-exulting in finding herself carried sofar and so swimmingly on a tide of truth, half wondering whether theflowering beauty of her face in excitement had struck his sensibility.He was cold and speculative.

  "Ah!" she said, "if I were to ask my compatriots to put faith in awoman's pure friendship for a man, I should know the answer; but you,signor Powys, who have shown us that a man is capable of the purestfriendship for a woman, should believe me."

  He led her down to the gates, where her coachman sat muffled in athree-quarter sleep. The word was given to drive to her own house;rejoiced by which she called his attention deploringly to the conditionof her horses, requesting him to say whether he could imagine them thebest English, and confessing with regret, that she killed three setsa year--loved them well, notwithstanding. Merthyr saw enough of her tofeel that she was one of the weak creatures who are strong through ourgreater weakness; and, either by intuition or quick wit, too livelyand too subtle to be caught by simple suspicion. She even divined thatreflection might tell him she had evaded him by an artifice--a pieceof gross cajolery; and said, laughing: "Concerning friendship, I couldoffer it to a boy, like Carlo Ammiani; not to you, signor Powys. I knowthat I must check a youth, and I am on my guard. I should be eternallytormented to discover whether your armour was proof."

  "I dare say that a lady who had those torments would soon be able tomake them mine," said Merthyr.

  "You could not pay a fairer compliment to some one else," she remarked.In truth, the candid personal avowal seemed to her to hold up Vittoria'ssacred honour in a crystal, and the more she thought of it, the more sherespected him, for his shrewd intelligence, if not for his sincerity;but on the whole she fancied him a loyal friend, not solely a clevermaker of phrases; and she was pleased with herself for thinking such amatter possible, in spite of her education.

  "I do most solemnly hope that you may not have to sustain CountessAlessandra under any affliction whatsoever," she said at parting.

  Violetta had escaped an exposure--a rank and naked accusation ofher character and deeds. She feared nothing but that, being quiteindifferent to opinion; a woman who would not have thought itpreternaturally sad to have to walk as a penitent in the streets, withthe provision of a very thick veil to cover her. She had escaped, butthe moment she felt herself free, she was surprised by a sharp twinge ofremorse. She summoned her maid to undress her, and smelt her favouriteperfume, and lay in her bed, to complete her period of rest, closingher eyes there with a child's faith in pillows. Flying lights andblood-blotches rushed within a span of her forehead. She met thissymptom promptly with a medical receipt; yet she had no sleep; norwould coffee give her sleep. She shrank from opium as deleterious to theconstitution, and her mind settled on music as the remedy.

  Some time after her craving for it had commenced, an Austrian footregiment, marching to the drum, passed under her windows. The fife is amerry instrument; fife and drum colour the images of battle gaily; butthe dull ringing Austrian step-drum, beating unaccompanied, strikesthe mind with the real nature of battles, as the salt smell of powderstrikes it, and more in horror, more as a child's imagination realizesbloodshed, where the scene is a rolling heaven, black and red onall sides, with pitiable men moving up to the mouth of butchery, theinsufferable flashes, the dark illumination of red, red of black, like avision of the shadows Life and Death in a shadow-fight over the dear menstill living. Sensitive minds may be excited by a small stimulant to seesuch pictures. This regimental drum is like a song of the flat-headedsavage in man. It has no rise or fall, but leads to the bloody businesswith an unvarying note, and a savage's dance in the middle of therhythm. Violetta listened to it until her heart quickened with alarmlest she should be going to have a fever. She thought of Carlo Ammiani,and of the name of Nagen; she had seen him at the Lenkensteins. Herinstant supposition was that Anna had perhaps paid heavily for thesecret of Carlo's movements an purpose to place Major Nagen on theBrescian high-road to capture him. Capture meant a long imprisonment, ifnot execution. Partly for the sake of getting peace of mind--for she wasshocked by her temporary inability to command repose--but with some hopeof convincing Carlo that she strove to be of use to him, she sent forthe spy Luigi, and at a cost of two hundred and twenty Austrian florins,obtained his promise upon oath to follow Count Ammiani into Brescia, ifnecessary, and deliver to him a letter she had written, wherein Nagen'sname was mentioned, and Carlo was advised to avoid personal risks; theletter hinted that he might have incurred a private enmity, and he hadbetter keep among his friends. She knew the writing of this letter tobe the foolishest thing she had ever done. Two hundred and twentyflorins--the man originally stipulated to have three hundred--was alarge sum to pay for postage. However, sacrifices must now and then bemade for friendship, and for sleep. When she had paid half the money,her mind was relieved, and she had the slumber which preserves beauty.Luigi was to be paid the other half on his return. "He may neverreturn," she thought, while graciously dismissing him. The deduction bymental arithmetic of the two hundred and twenty, or the one hundred andten florins, from the large amount Countess Anna was bound to pay herin turn, annoyed her, though she knew it was a trifle. For this lady,Milan, Turin, and Paris sighed deeply.

  When he had left Violetta at her house in the Corso, Merthyr walkedbriskly for exercise, knowing that he would have need of his health andstrength. He wanted a sight of Alps to wash out the image of the womanfrom his mind, and passed the old Marshal's habitation fronting theGardens, wishing that he stood in the field against the fine oldwarrior, for whom he had a liking. Near the walls he discovered Beppositting pensively with his head between his two fists. Beppo had notseen Count Ammiani, but he had seen Barto Rizzo, and pointing to thewalls, said that Barto had dropped down there. He had met him hurryingin the Corso Francesco. Barto took him to the house of Sarpo, thebookseller, who possessed a small printing-press. Beppo describedvividly, with his usual vivacity of illustration, the stupefaction ofthe man at the apparition of his tormentor, whom he thought fast inprison; and how Barto had compelled him to print a proclamation to thePiedmontese, Lombards, and Venetians, setting forth that a battle hadbeen fought South of the Ticino, and that Carlo Alberto was advancingon Milan, signed with the name of the Piedmontese Pole in command of theking's army. A second, framed as an order of the day, spoke of victoryand the planting of the green, white and red banner on the Adige, andforward to the Isonzo.

  "I can hear nothing of Carlo Alberto's victory," Beppo said; "no one hasheard of it. Barto told us how the battle was fought, and the name ofthe young lieutenant who discovered the enemy's flank march, and got theartillery down on him, and pounded him so that--signore, it's amazing!I'm ready to cry, and laugh, and howl!--fifteen thousand men capitulatedin a heap!"

  "Don't you know you've been listening to a madman?" said Merthyr,irritated, and thoroughly angered to see Beppo's opposition to thatview.

  "Signore, Barto described the whole battle. It began at fiv
e o'clock inthe morning."

  "When it was dark!"

  "Yes; when it was dark. He said so. And we sent up rockets, and caughtthe enemy coming on, and the cavalry of Alessandria fell upon twobatteries of field guns and carried them off, and Colonel Romboni wasshot in his back, and cries he, 'Best give up the ghost if you're hit inthe rear. Evviva l'Italia!'"

  "A Piedmontese colonel, you fool! he would have shouted 'Viva CarloAlberto!'" said Merthyr, now critically disgusted with the tale, andrefusing to hear more. Two hours later, he despatched Beppo to Carloin Brescia, warning him that for some insane purpose these twoproclamations had been printed by Barto Rizzo, and that they were false.

  It was early on the morning of a second day, before sunrise, whenVittoria sent for Merthyr to conduct her to the cathedral. "There hasbeen a battle," she said. Her lips hardly joined to frame the syllablesin speech. Merthyr refrained from asking where she had heard of thebattle. As soon as the Duomo doors were open, he led her in and left herstanding shrinking under the great vault with her neck fearfully drawnon her shoulders, as one sees birds under thunder. He thought that shewas losing courage. Choosing to go out on the steps rather than lookon her, he was struck by the sight of two horsemen, who proved to beAustrian officers, rattling at racing speed past the Duomo up the Corso.The sight of them made it seem possible that a battle had been fought.As soon as he was free, Merthyr went to the Duchess of Graatli, fromwhom he had the news of Novara. The officers he had seen were PrinceRadocky and Lieutenant Wilfrid Pierson, the old Marshal's emissaries ofvictory. They had made a bet on the bloody field about reaching Milanfirst, and the duchess affected to be full of the humour of this betin order to conceal her exultation. The Lenkensteins called on her; theCountess of Lenkenstein, Anna, and Lena; and they were less considerate,and drew their joy openly from the source of his misery--a dreadfulhouse for Merthyr to remain in; but he hoped to see Wilfrid, havingheard the duchess rally Lena concerning the deeds of the white umbrella,which, Lena said, was pierced with balls, and had been preserved forher. "The dear foolish fellow insisted on marching right into the midstof the enemy with his absurd white umbrella; and wherever there wasdanger the men were seen following it. Prince Radocky told me thewhole army was laughing. How he escaped death was a miracle!" She spokeunaffectedly of her admiration for the owner, and as Wilfrid came in shegave him brilliant eyes. He shook Merthyr's hand without looking athim. The ladies would talk of nothing but the battle, so he went up toMerthyr, and under pretext of an eager desire for English news, drew himaway.

  "Her husband was not there? not at Novara, I mean?" he said.

  "He's at Brescia," said Merthyr.

  "Well, thank goodness he didn't stand in those ranks!"

  Wilfrid murmured, puffing thoughtfully over the picture they presentedto his memory.

  Merthyr then tried to hint to him that he had a sort of dull suspicionof Carlo's being in personal danger, but of what kind he could not say.He mentioned Weisspriess by name; and Nagen; and Countess Anna. Wilfridsaid, "I'll find out if there's anything, only don't be fancying it. Theman's in a bad hole at Brescia. Weisspriess, I believe, is at Verona.He's an honourable fellow. The utmost he would do would be to demanda duel; and I'm sure he's heartily sick of that work. Besides, he andCountess Anna have quarrelled. Meet me;--by the way, you and I mustn'tbe seen meeting, I suppose. The duchess is neutral ground. Come hereto-night. And don't talk of me, but say that a friend asks how she is,and hopes--the best things you can say for me. I must go up to theirconfounded chatter again. Tell her there's no fear, none whatever.You all hate us, naturally; but you know that Austrian officers aregentlemen. Don't speak my name to her just yet. Unless, of course, sheshould happen to allude to me, which is unlikely. I had a dismal ideathat her husband was at Novara."

  The tender-hearted duchess sent a message to Vittoria, bidding her notto forget that she had promised her at Meran to 'love her always.'

  "And tell her," she said to Merthyr, "that I do not think I shallhave my rooms open for the concert to-morrow night. I prefer to letAntonio-Pericles go mad. She will not surely consider that she is boundby her promise to him? He drags poor Irma from place to place to makesure the miserable child is not plotting to destroy his concert, as thatman Sarpo did. Irma is half dead, and hasn't the courage to offend him.She declares she depends upon him for her English reputation. She hasalready caught a violent cold, and her sneezing is frightful. I havenever seen so abject a creature. I have no compassion at the sight ofher."

  That night Merthyr heard from Wilfrid that a plot against Carlo Ammianidid exist. He repeated things he had heard pass between Countessd'Isorella and Irma in the chamber of Pericles before the late battle.Modestly confessing that he was 'for some reasons' in high favour withCountess Lena, he added that after a long struggle he had brought herto confess that her sister had sworn to have Countess Alessandra Ammianibegging at her feet.

  By mutual consent they went to consult the duchess. She repelled thenotion of Austrian women conspiring. "An Austrian noble lady--do youthink it possible that she would act secretly to serve a private hatred?Surely I may ask you, for my sake, to think better of us?"

  Merthyr showed her an opening to his ground by suggesting that Anna'santipathy to Victoria might spring more from a patriotic than a privatesource.

  "Oh! I will certainly make inquiries, if only to save Anna's reputationwith her enemies," the duchess answered rather proudly.

  It would have been a Novara to Pericles if Vittoria had refused to sing.He held the pecuniarily-embarrassed duchess sufficiently in his power tocommand a concert at her house; his argument to those who pressed himto spare Vittoria in a season of grief running seriously, with visiblecontempt of their intellects, thus: "A great voice is an ocean. Youcannot drain it with forty dozen opera-hats. It is something found--anaddition to the wealth of this life. Shall we not enjoy what we find?You do not wear out a picture by looking at it; likewise you do not wearout a voice by listening to it. A bird has wings;--here is a voice.Why were they given? I should say, to go into the air. Ah; but not ifgrandmother is ill. What is a grandmother to the wings and the voice? Ifto sing would kill,--yes, then let the puny thing be silent! But SandraBelloni has a soul that has not a husband--except her Art. Her body ishusbanded; but her soul is above her body. You would treat it as below.Art is her soul's husband! Besides, I have her promise. She is a girlwho will go up to a loaded gun's muzzle if she gives her word. Andbesides, her husband may be shot to-morrow. So, all she sings now isclear gain."

  Vittoria sent word to him that she would sing.

  In the meantime a change had come upon Countess Anna. Weisspriess, herhero, appeared at her brother's house, fresh from the field of Novara,whither he had hurried from Verona on a bare pretext, that was abreach of military discipline requiring friendly interposition inhigh quarters. Unable to obtain an audience with Count Lenkenstein,he remained in the hall, hoping for things which he affected to carenothing for; and so it chanced that he saw Lena, who was mindful thather sister had suffered much from passive jealousy when Wilfrid returnedfrom the glorious field, and led him to Anna, that she also mightrejoice in a hero. Weisspriess did not refrain from declaring on the waythat he would rather charge against a battery. Some time after, Anna layin Lena's arms, sobbing out one of the wildest confessions ever made bywoman:--she adored Weisspriess; she hated Nagen; but was miserably boundto the man she hated. "Oh! now I know what love is." She repeated thiswith transparent enjoyment of the opposing sensations by whose shock theknowledge was revealed to her.

  "How can you be bound to Major Nagan?" asked Lena.

  "Oh! why? except that I have been possessed by devils."

  Anna moaned. "Living among these Italians has distempered my blood." Sheexclaimed that she was lost.

  "In what way can you be lost?" said Lena.

  "I have squandered more than half that I possess. I am almost a beggar.I am no longer the wealthy Countess Anna. I am much poorer than anyoneof us."

  "But Major
Weisspriess is a man of honour, and if he loves you--"

  "Yes; he loves me! he loves me! or would he come to me after I havesent him against a dozen swords? But he is poor; he must, must marry awealthy woman. I used to hate him because I thought he had his eye onmoney. I love him for it now. He deserves wealth; he is a matchlesshero. He is more than the first swordsman of our army; he is a knightlyman. Oh my soul Johann!" She very soon fell to raving. Lena was imploredby her to give her hand to Weisspriess in reward for his heroism--"Foryou are rich," Anna said; "you will not have to go to him feeling thatyou have made him face death a dozen times for your sake, and that youthank him and reward him by being a whimpering beggar in his arms.Do, dearest! Will you? Will you, to please me, marry Johann? He is notunworthy of you." And more of this hysterical hypocrisy, which broughton fits of weeping. "I have lived among these savages till I have ceasedto be human--forgotten everything but my religion," she said. "I wantedWeisspriess to show them that they dared not stand up against a man ofus, and to tame the snarling curs. He did. He is brave. He did as muchas a man could do, but I was unappeasable. They seem to have bitten metill I had a devouring hunger to humiliate them. Lena, will you believethat I have no hate for Carlo Ammiani or the woman he has married? None!and yet, what have I done!" Anna smote her forehead. "They are nothingbut little dots on a field for me. I don't care whether they live ordie. It's like a thing done in sleep."

  "I want to know what you have done," said Lena caressingly.

  "You at least will try to reward our truest hero, and make up to him foryour sister's unkindness, will you not?" Anna replied with a cajolerywonderfully like a sincere expression of her wishes. "He will be a goodhusband.. He has proved it by having been so faithful a--a lover. So youmay be sure of him. And when he is yours, do not let him fight again,Lena, for I have a sickening presentiment that his next duel is hislast."

  "Tell me," Lena entreated her, "pray tell me what horrible thing youhave done to prevent your marrying him."

  "With their pride and their laughter," Anna made answer; "the fools!were they to sting us perpetually and not suffer for it? That woman, theCountess Alessandra, as she's now called--have you forgotten that shehelped our Paul's assassin to escape? was she not eternally plottingagainst Austria? And I say that I love Austria. I love my country; Iplot for my country. She and her husband plot, and I plot to thwartthem. I have ruined myself in doing it. Oh, my heart! why has itcommenced beating again? Why did Weisspriess come here? He offended me.He refused to do my orders, and left me empty-handed, and if he sufferstoo," Anna relieved a hard look with a smile of melancholy, "I hope hewill not; I cannot say more."

  "And I'm to console him if he does?" said Lena.

  "At least, I shall be out of the way," said Anna. "I have still moneyenough to make me welcome in a convent."

  "I am to marry him?" Lena persisted, and half induced Anna to act afeeble part, composed of sobs and kisses and full confession of herplight. Anna broke from her in time to leave what she had stated ofherself vague and self-justificatory, so that she kept her pride, andcould forgive, as she was ready to do even so far as to ask forgivenessin turn, when with her awakened enamoured heart she heard Vittoria singat the concert of Pericles. Countess Alessandra's divine gift, which shewould not withhold, though in a misery of apprehension; her grave eyes,which none could accuse of coldness, though they showed no emotion;her simple noble manner that seemed to lift her up among the forcesthreatening her; these expressions of a superior soul moved Anna underthe influence of the incomparable voice to pass over envious contrasts,and feel the voice and the nature were one in that bosom. Could it bethe same as the accursed woman who had stood before her at Meran? Shecould hardly frame the question, but she had the thought sufficientlyfirmly to save her dignity; she was affected by very strong emotionwhen Vittoria's singing ended, and nothing but the revival of therecollection of her old contempt preserved her from an impetuous desireto take the singer by the hand and have all clear between them; for theywere now of equal rank to tolerating eyes. "But she has no religiouswarmth!" Anna reflected with a glow of satisfaction. The concert wasbroken up by Laura Piaveni. She said out loud that the presence of MajorWeisspriess was intolerable to the Countess Alessandra. It happenedthat Weisspriess entered the room while Laura sat studying the effectproduced by her countrywoman's voice on the thick eyelids of AustrianAnna; and Laura, seeing their enemy ready to weep in acknowledgment oftheir power, scorned the power which could never win freedom, and brokeup the sitting, citing the offence of the presence of Weisspriess fora pretext. The incident threw Anna back upon her old vindictiveness.It caused an unpleasant commotion in the duchess's saloon. CountSerabiglione was present, and ran round to Weisspriess, apologizing forhis daughter's behaviour. "Do you think I can't deal with your women aswell as your men, you ass?" said Weisspriess, enraged by the scandal ofthe scene. He was overheard by Count Karl Lenkenstein, who took him totask sharply for his rough speech; but Anna supported her lover, andthey joined hands publicly. Anna went home prostrated with despair."What conscience is in me that I should wish one of my Kaiser's officerskilled?" she cried enigmatically to Lena. "But I must have freedom. Oh!to be free. I am chained to my enemy, and God blesses that woman. Hemakes her weep, but he blesses her, for her body is free, and mine,--thethought of mine sets flames creeping up my limbs as if I were tied tothe stake. Losing a husband you love--what is that to taking a husbandyou hate?" Still Lena could get no plain confession from her, for Annaclung to self-justification, and felt it abandoning her, and her soulfluttering in a black gulf when she opened her month to disburdenherself.

  There came tidings of the bombardment of Brescia one of the historicdeeds of infamy. Many officers of the Imperial army perceived the shamewhich it cast upon their colours, even in those intemperate hours,and Karl Lenkenstein assumed the liberty of private friendship to gocomplaining to the old Marshal, who was too true a soldier to condemna soldier in action, however strong his disapproval of proceedings.The liberty assumed by Karl was excessive; he spoke out in the midst ofGeneral officers as if his views were shared by them and the Marshal;and his error was soon corrected; one after another reproachedhim, until the Marshal, pitying his condition, sent him into hiswriting-closet, where he lectured the youth on military discipline.It chanced that there followed between them a question upon what theGeneral in command at Brescia would do with his prisoners; and hearingthat they were subject to the rigours of a court-martial, and ifadjudged guilty, would forthwith summarily be shot, Karl ventured to askgrace for Vittoria's husband. He succeeded finally in obtaining his kindold Chief's promise that Count Ammiani should be tried in Milan, and asthe bearer of a paper to that effect, he called on his sisters to getthem or Wilfrid to convey word to Vittoria of her husband's probablesafety. He found Anna in a swoon, and Lena and the duchess bendingover her. The duchess's chasseur Jacob Baumwalder Feckelwitz had beenreturning from Moran, when on the Brescian high-road he met the spyLuigi, and acting promptly under the idea that Luigi was always apestilential conductor of detestable correspondence, he attacked him,overthrew him, and ransacked him, and bore the fruit of his sagaciousexertions to his mistress in Milan; it was Violetta d'Isorella's letterto Carlo Ammiani. "I have read it," the duchess said; "contrary to anyhabits when letters are not addressed to me. I bring it open to yoursister Anna. She catches sight of one or two names and falls down in thestate in which you see her."

  "Leave her to me," said Karl.

  He succeeded in extracting from Anna hints of the fact that she hadpaid a large sum of her own money to Countess d'Isorella for secretsconnected with the Bergamasc and Brescian rising. "We were under amutual oath to be silent, but if one has broken it the other cannot; soI confess it to you, dearest good brother. I did this for my country atmy personal sacrifice."

  Karl believed that he had a sister magnificent in soul. She was glad tohave deluded him, but she could not endure his praises, which painted toher imagination all that she might have been if she had not dashed h
erpatriotism with the low cravings of vengeance, making herself like someabhorrent mediaeval grotesque, composed of eagle and reptile. She wasmost eager in entreating him to save Count Ammiani's life. Carlo, shesaid, was their enemy, but he had been their friend, and she declaredwith singular earnestness that she should never again sleep or hold upher head, if he were slain or captured.

  "My Anna is justified by me in everything she has done," Karl said tothe duchess.

  "In that case," the duchess replied, "I have only to differ with her tofeel your sword's point at my breast."

  "I should certainly challenge the man who doubted her," said Karl.

  The duchess laughed with a scornful melancholy.

  On the steps of the door where his horse stood saddled, he met Wilfrid,and from this promised brother-in-law received matter for the challenge.Wilfrid excitedly accused Anna of the guilt of a conspiracy to causethe destruction of Count Ammiani. In the heat of his admiration for hissister, Karl struck him on the cheek with his glove, and called him aname by which he had passed during the days of his disgrace, signifyingone who plays with two parties. Lena's maid heard them arrange to meetwithin an hour, and she having been a witness of the altercation, ran toher mistress in advance of Wilfrid, and so worked on Lena's terrors onbehalf of her betrothed and her brother, that Lena, dropped at Anna'sfeet telling her all that she had gathered and guessed in verificationof Wilfrid's charge, and imploring her to confess the truth. Anna,though she saw her concealment pierced, could not voluntarily foregoher brother's expressed admiration of her, and clung to the tatters ofsecresy. After a brief horrid hesitation, she chose to face Wilfrid.This interview began with lively recriminations, and was resultingin nothing--for Anna refused to be shaken by his statement that theCountess d'Isorella had betrayed her, and perceived that she waslistening to suspicions only--when, to give his accusation force,Wilfrid said that Brescia had surrendered and that Count Ammiani hadescaped.

  "And I thank God for it!" Anna exclaimed, and with straight frowningeyes demanded the refutation of her sincerity.

  "Count Ammiani and his men have five hours' grace ahead of Major Nagenand half a regiment," said Wilfrid.

  At this she gasped; she had risen her breath to deny or defy, and hungon the top of it without a voice.

  "Tell us--say, but do say--confess that you know Nagen to be a name ofmischief," Lena prayed her.

  "I will say anything to prevent my brother from running into danger,"Anna rejoined.

  "She is most foully accused by one whom we permitted to aspire to be ofour own family," said Karl.

  "Yet you, Karl, have always been the first to declare her revengeful,"Lena turned to him.

  "Help, Karl, help me," said Anna.

  "Yes!" cried her sister; "there you stand, and ask for help, meanest ofwomen! Do you think these men are not in earnest? Karl is to help you,and you will not speak a word to save him from a grave before night, orme from a lover all of blood."

  "Am I to be the sacrifice?" said Anna.

  "Whatever you call it, Wilfrid has spoken truth of you, and to none butmembers of our family; and he had a right to say it, and you are boundnow to acknowledge it."

  "I acknowledge that I love and serve my country, Lena."

  "Not with a pure heart: you can't forgive. Insult or a wrong makes amadwoman of you. Confess, Anna! You know well that you can't kneel toa priest's ear, for you've stopped your conscience. You have pledgedyourself to misery to satisfy a spite, and you have not the courage toask for--" Lena broke her speech like one whose wits have been kindled."Yes, Karl," she resumed; "Anna begged you to help her. You will. Takeher aside and save her from being miserable forever. You do mean tofight my Wilfrid?"

  "I am certainly determined to bring him to repentance leaving him theoption of the way," said Karl.

  Lena took her sullen sister by the arm.

  "Anna, will you let these two men go--to slaughter? Look at them; theyare both our brothers. One is dearer than a brother to me, and, oh God!I have known what it is to half-lose him. You to lose a lover andhave to go bound by a wretched oath to be the wife of a detestableshort-sighted husband! Oh, what an abominable folly!"

  This epithet, 'short-sighted,' curiously forced in by Lena, was like ashock of the very image of Nagen's needle features thrust against Anna'seyes; the spasm of revulsion in her frame was too quick for her habitualself-control.

  At that juncture Weisspriess opened the door, and Anna's eyes met his.

  "You don't spare me," she murmured to Lena.

  Her voice trembled, and Wilfrid bent his head near her, pressing herhand, and said, "Not only I, but Countess Alessandra Ammiani exoneratesyou from blame. As she loves her country, you love yours. My wordsto Karl were an exaggeration of what I know and think. Only tell methis;--if Nagen captures Count Ammiani, how is he likely to deal withhim?"

  "How can I inform you?" Anna replied coldly; but she reflected in afire of terror. She had given Nagen the prompting of a hundred angryexclamations in the days of her fever of hatred; she had neverthelessforgotten their parting words; that is, she had forgotten her mood whenhe started for Brescia, and the nature of the last instructions she hadgiven him. Revolting from the thought of execution being done upon CountAmmiani, as one quickly springing out of fever dreams, all her whiteface went into hard little lines, like the withered snow whichwears away in frost. "Yes," she said; and again, "Yes," to somethingWeisspriess whispered in her ear, she knew not clearly what. Weisspriesstold Wilfrid that he would wait below. As he quitted the room, theduchess entered, and went up to Anna. "My good soul," she said, "youhave, I trust, listened to Major Weisspriess. Oh, Anna! you wantedrevenge. Now take it, as becomes a high-born woman; and let your enemycome to your feet, and don't spurn her when she is there. Must I informyou that I have been to Countess d'Isorella myself with a man who cancompel her to speak? But Anna von Lenkenstein is not base like thatItalian. Let them think of you as they will, I believe you to have agreat heart. I am sure you will not allow personal sentiment to sullyyour devotion to our country. Show them that our Austrian faces can bebright; and meet her whom you call your enemy; you cannot fly. Youmust see her, or you betray yourself. The poor creature's husband is indanger of capture or death."

  While the duchess's stern under-breath ran on hurriedly, convincing Annathat she had, with no further warning, to fall back upon her uttermoststrength--the name of Countess Alessandra Ammiani was called at thedoor. Instinctively the others left a path between Vittoria and Anna. Itwas one of the moments when the adoption of a decisive course says morein vindication of conduct than long speeches. Anna felt that she wason her trial. For the first time since she had looked on this woman shenoticed the soft splendour of Vittoria's eyes, and the harmony of herwhole figure; nor was the black dress of protesting Italian mourningany longer offensive in her sight, but on a sudden pitiful, for Annathought: "It may at this very hour be for her husband, and she notknowing it." And with that she had a vision under her eyelids of Nagenlike a shadowy devil in pursuit of men flying, and striking herself andVittoria worse than dead in one blow levelled at Carlo Ammiani. A senseof supernatural horror chilled her blood when she considered again,facing her enemy, that their mutual happiness was by her own actinvolved in the fate of one life. She stepped farther than the half-wayto greet her visitor, whose hands she took. Before a word was utteredbetween them, she turned to her brother, and with a clear voice said:

  "Karl, the Countess Alessandra's husband, our old, friend Carlo Ammiani,may need succour in his flight. Try to cross it; or better, get amongthose who are pursuing him; and don't delay one minute. You understandme."

  Count Karl bowed his head, bitterly humbled.

  Anna's eyes seemed to interrogate Vittoria, "Can I do, more?" but herown heart answered her.

  Inveterate when following up her passion for vengeance, she wasfanatical in responding to the suggestions of remorse.

  "Stay; I will despatch Major Weisspriess in my own name," she said."He is a trusty messenger, a
nd he knows those mountains. Whoever is theofficer broken for aiding Count Ammiani's escape, he shall be rewardedby me to the best of my ability. Countess Alessandra, I have anticipatedyour petition; I hope you may not have to reproach me. Remember that mycountry was in pieces when you and I declared war. You will not sufferwithout my suffering tenfold. Perhaps some day you will do me the favourto sing to me, when there is no chance of interruption. At present it iscruel to detain you."

  Vittoria said simply: "I thank you, Countess Anna."

  She was led out by Count Karl to where Merthyr awaited her. All wonderedat the briefness of a scene that had unexpectedly brought the crisisto many emotions and passions, as the broken waters of the sea beattogether and make here or there the wave which is topmost. Anna's grandinitiative hung in their memories like the throbbing of a pulse, sohotly their sensations swarmed about it, and so intensely it embracedand led what all were desiring. The duchess kissed Anna, saying:

  "That is a noble heart to which you have become reconciled. Though youshould never be friends, as I am with one of them, you will esteem her.Do not suppose her to be cold. She is the mother of an unborn littleone, and for that little one's sake she follows out every duty; shechecks every passion in her bosom. She will spare no sacrifice to saveher husband, but she has brought her mind to look at the worst, for fearthat a shock should destroy her motherly guard."

  "Really, duchess," Anna replied, "these are things for married women tohear;" and she provoked some contempt of her conventional delicacy, atthe same time that in her imagination the image of Vittoria strugglingto preserve this burden of motherhood against a tragic mischance,completely humiliated and overwhelmed her, as if nature had also come toadd to her mortifications.

  "I am ready to confess everything I have done, and to be known for whatI am," she said.

  "Confess no more than is necessary, but do everything you can; that'swisest," returned the duchess.

  "Ah; you mean that you have nothing to learn." Anna shuddered.

  "I mean that you are likely to run into the other extreme ofdisfavouring yourself just now, my child. And," continued the duchess,"you have behaved so splendidly that I won't think ill of you."

  Before the day darkened, Wilfrid obtained, through Prince Radocky'sinfluence, an order addressed to Major Nagen for the surrender ofprisoners into his hands. He and Count Karl started for the Val Camonicaon the chance of intercepting the pursuit. These were not much wiserthan their guesses and their apprehensions made them; but Weisspriessstarted on the like errand after an interview with Anna, and he haddrawn sufficient intelligence out of sobs, and broken sentences, andtorture of her spirit, to understand that if Count Ammiani fell alive ordead into Nagen's hands, Nagen by Anna's scrupulous oath, had a claim onher person and her fortune: and he knew Nagen to be a gambler. As hewas now by promotion of service Nagen's superior officer, and a nearrelative of the Brescian commandant, who would be induced to justify hissteps, his object was to reach and arbitrarily place himself over Nagen,as if upon a special mission, and to get the lead of the expedition. Forthat purpose he struck somewhat higher above the Swiss borders thanKarl and Wilfrid, and gained a district in the mountains above thevale, perfectly familiar to him. Obeying directions forwarded to herby Wilfrid, Vittoria left Milan for the Val Camonica no later than theevening; Laura was with her in the carriage; Merthyr took horse afterthem as soon as he had succeeded in persuading Countess Ammiani topardon her daughter's last act of wilfulness, and believe that, duringthe agitation of unnumbered doubts, she ran less peril in the wildswhere her husband fled, than in her home.

  "I will trust to her idolatrously, as you do," Countess Ammiani said;"and perhaps she has already proved to me that I may."

  Merthyr saw Agostino while riding out of Milan, and was seen by him;but the old man walked onward, looking moodily on the stones, and merelywaved his hand behind.