Maturin Murray Page 8

  Now bursting through their veiling power, the moon would for a moment cast long deep shadows down the narrow streets, and here and there would light up for an instant some antique palace front with dazzling richness, and as quickly die away again, as though it were at play with the earth. It was difficult in this alternating of light and darkness to use the eye so as to discern objects with certainty; and an individual could with difficulty be recognized between the changes, however near he might be to the observer. The character of the night was wild and threatening-a night for evil deeds.

  The gates of the city of Florence were just closing, and the gathering clouds had entirely obscured the light of the moon, as a caleche-and-four, with an extra postilion, dashed off from the Borg' ognisanti, on the mountain-road towards Bologna. The inmates of the vehicle exchanged not a word. The female seemed to be affrighted at the headlong speed with which the double team drew the light caleche up the mountain's side, while a postilion sat so near, and the attendant at the lady's side, together seemed an excuse for the silence, even if they were that which any one would have pronounced them, a runaway couple.

  Anon the gentleman would offer some polite attention to his companion, but without the exchange of a syllable; and, indeed, words could hardly have been heard at the rate they were driving through the dark, on account of the loud noise of the wheels and horses' feet among the stones and uneven soil of the rising ground. On rolled the vehicle with the speed of the wind—every one knows how Florentine horses can go when they have a mind to-until at length it pulled up at a highland roadside inn of most uninviting character. The lady was immediately assisted in silence from the vehicle, and scarcely had they entered the low, dark parlor of the inn before the gentleman whispered to her:

  "The priest is here, and will unite us immediately."

  "But why this haste, dear Carlton?" said Florinda, for it was her.

  "There is no time to lose," was the whispered response.

  "But should not—"

  "Hush, Florinda!"

  "But Carlton—"

  "He is here," was the whispered interruption.

  And in a moment more a priest made his appearance, and, without giving either time to unrobe themselves, had they been so inclined, commenced the marriage service. The ring was given in that dark room-so dark that the features even of the minister of the church could not be discerned-the prayer was made, and the two were solemnly declared to be husband and wife. The lady had essayed several times to speak aloud, as we have seen, to express some feeling or wish, and she seemed as if anticipating some encouragement from him she was about to wed; but she was each time hushed by the speed with which everything was done, or by a gentle whisper from her companion. The ceremony completed, the signora drew back to a chair, overcome by her swift ride, and the emotions that crowded themselves upon her throbbing and trembling heart.

  At this moment there entered the apartment the tall figure of a man apparently advanced is years, who, turning his back upon Florinda, conversed for a moment with the bridegroom, then both turning towards Florinda at the moment a couple of lamps were introduced into the room, when lo! she beheld before her Signor Latrezzi, her uncle, and her husband, Petro Giampetti! With a scream of horror and affright, she fell fainting upon the floor.

  The uncle and nephew were both filled with horror, for both believed that they had killed her, as they gazed upon her pale and lifeless form. Either would lave sacrificed everything to have taken all back again, and restored her to life and happiness. Can this be thee, Petro Giampetti, trembling like a child-nay, a tear actually wetting that swarthy check, as you chafe the pulse, and bathe the temples of that insensible girl? And hast thou really so tender a heart, and yet couldst enter into so hard-hearted a conspiracy? And thou, Signor Latrezzi, well mayst thou hide thy face in thy hands, for thou art the greatest sinner here; thine has been the hand that hath done this; that hath triumphed over this poor girl, whom thou shouldst have protected.

  "Holy virgin," cried Petro, "she's dead!"

  "Say not so," eagerly exclaimed her uncle.

  "God forgive us!" answered Petro.

  "Ay, we have need of forgiveness, if we have brought on such extremity," said the uncle, trying to raise the lifeless head of their inanimate victim.

  Leaving the guilty, nephew and uncle for a while, we will take the reader back for a moment in the thread of our story.

  CHAPTER XI. THE INTERCEPTED LETTER.

  Any man that can write may answer a letter.

  -Romeo and Juliet.

  IN such a tale as we now tell you, gentle reader, and when written within such limits, it is impossible to keep each portion of the plot equally advanced, or rather not to anticipate certain results. There is also an advantage in this mode of arrangement which perhaps is in itself sufficient excuse for the author. It heightens the plot, and renders it more absorbing to the reader, by suddenly laying before him some startling tableau and seeming inconsistency, but which the sequel of the story renders plain and reconcilable with other portions of the story.

  Having said thus much for the scene we have presented to the reader at the roadside inn on the Apennines, we must now go back with him to the night on which Carlton delivered his letter of arrangement to Florinda, and thus render our tale plain to the comprehension of all.

  Carlton, as we have said perfected his plan for the proposed elopement, and in another letter to Florinda he communicated the particulars, delivering the missive with his own hands as heretofore. There was a certain hour agreed upon between them, in which Signora Florinda was to be at the balcony of her apartment every evening; and thus, although Carlton might not be able to hold much conversation with her, yet he could deliver any written paper he might desire, without the fear of interruption or detection.

  It was necessary to accomplish all with the utmost secrecy in order to ensure success. Now Petro had been led to suspect by some circumstances, that the meetings between Carlton and his cousin had been renewed. He determined to ascertain if this was the case through his own personal observation; and on the occasion of the delivery of the letter in question, Petro being on the watch, discovered Carlton in the act, and also overheard the following appointment made by him with Florinda:

  "I will call for an answer at eleven, signora; I hope you may perfectly comprehend my plan and fully acquiesce in it."

  "At eleven?"

  "At eleven, signora."

  "Hark, heard you not some one?"

  "No, I heard nothing."

  "It sounded very near to the balcony."

  "In the street?"

  "Yes; I am sure I heard someone."

  "Some passer-by, Florinda," said Carlton.

  "Pray thee be careful, Carlton, we may be watched."

  "I will be discreet; do not fear."

  "There, the figure is turning yonder street!"

  "Ay, and pauses to observe us; I will away. You will remember."

  "I will await you at that time, Carlton."

  "Good night, Florinda," whispered Carlton, pressing the hand extended to him from over the balcony, just within reach.

  "Good night." And they parted from each other, not daring to hold further conversation lest they might be observed, and their future plans suspected and defeated by the agents of her uncle.

  Petro determined to prevent this meeting, or rather to be present at it, and he hurried from the spot without meeting Carlton, resolving to be punctually at the terrace a little before eleven. It was evident that he had formed some plan in which he placed much confidence, by the revengeful smile that played about his scornful lips.

  It was near the hour of eleven that night, when Carlton drew near the little terrace that jutted from the window of Florinda's apartment, He saw by the pale moonlight reflected upon the clock of the neighboring church, that it lacked yet some fifteen minutes of the appointed time for the meeting, and humming lightly to himself, to kill the minutes, he sat down within a shady angle of the palace wall. His
approach was noted by the watchful Petro who, as soon as he saw him seated, determined, if possible, to obtain possession of the answer which he knew Carlton awaited!

  To accomplish this purpose, required much cunning and prudence; but he was fully equal to the plan-for what Italian has not cunning and intrigue in his natural disposition? In pursuance of this object, he approached the little terrace before alluded to, and which was a trifle higher than his head, and situated at this time within the shadow of the moon. By a slight and almost imperceptible noise, he essayed to attract the attention of Florinda, and led her to suppose that he was Carlton, and there awaiting the expected answer according to appointment, The wily Italian gathered the ample folds of his rich cloak about his person, so as to partially cover his face, upon which there was a most demoniac smile, picturing revenge, hate and every evil passion, to which a heavy moustache lent additional fierceness.

  In one hand he held a keen stiletto, while he extended the other above his head to receive the letter from the hand of Florinda. It was necessary for her to reach some distance over the edge of the small projecting terrace, in order to place it in his hand; this she did, using the customary precaution, and not venturing to utter a word as she heard footsteps approaching her room. Petro having thus possessed himself of the letter, retired to a place from whence he could watch the movements of Carlton without himself being observed by the young American.

  As the clock of the neighboring church struck eleven, Carlton sprang to his feet, and assuming his place under the terrace, awaited the coming of Florinda, little suspecting the trick that had been played upon him. But after awaiting somewhat impatiently for nearly an hour, he was compelled to return to his lodgings, almost trembling with fear lest some serious accident had befallen her he loved, or at least that their plan might have been discovered, and she subjected to consequent ill-treatment and fresh rigor by her uncle. All this while Florinda, as little suspecting the fraud that had been played upon them as Carlton himself, was quite contented and happy in the anticipated success of their plan, and dropped to sleep, thinking of him, after humbling herself before the throne of grace in fervent prayer-that key to the gates of Paradise.

  Florinda was naturally of a devotional character; and this feeling had grown and strengthened by her companionship with the late duchess, who was noted for her piety and goodness-and in fact came to her death, as is well known, by too much rigor imposed upon herself in devotional penance!

  Petro, after satisfying himself that the ruse had not been discovered, sought his own apartment in the palace to read the letter he had thus possessed himself of. He hesitated for a moment before he broke the seal-we will do him the justice to say so-even in this stage of his conduct, his sense of honor had not entirely left him. It had not yet become so blunted as to render him entirely reckless in the debasing deed he was about to perform. With a sort of desperate resolution-for he had never before done so mean an act-he opened the seal. The letter was brief, and ran as follows:

  DEAR CARLTON:-I leave every necessary arrangement to you. I will meet you as you propose to-morrow evening at the hour of ten. I would for certain reasons that it might be later, but the gates of the city I am aware close at that hour. Have a care for your own health and safety, Dear Carlton. I will meet you with a single attendant on whom I can rely, at the appointed time, and at the gate opening upon the Borg' ognisanti. Affectionately thine, "FLORINDA."

  "So, so; the bird had nearly flown from us," said Petro, as he read this epistle. "Here's a plot; and if I do not so counter-plot as to render it of no avail, other than for the furtherance of ny own design, then I am no man. It is well that I took this matter in hand at this time. A day-nay, an hour later might have been too late. Singular coincidence that should have brought me to the place and the subject at the most opportune moment. Little does this fellow think of the rod that is in pickle for him. But I will be even with him. I will not sleep while he pursues the game; vigilance alone must gain me my object. No, no, Signor Artist, you cannot thus pluck this beautiful flower unchallenged; you are observed, and your object is understood, Scheming requires counter-scheming; and you shall have that to your heart's content. Italy against America, by the virgin; but we will make this a national quarrel, if it be necessary."

  He gazed upon the letter thoughtfully for some moments.

  "Let me see," he continued, "this is not a very difficult hand to imitate." And he commenced to write different words and form capitals after the style of Florinda's note. "I think I can do it," he said at length. "But the seal-how shall I manage that? Stay, I can use this same one with a little care. Capital!" he exclaimed. "I'll have this business all in my own hands." And Petro Giampetti laughed outright at the prospect of his success in this vile plot against his cousin.

  Petro was an expert and practical penman, being, as we have said, private secretary to his uncle, Signor Latrezzi; and thus being quite an expert in the use of the pen, he was the more easily able to prosecute his dishonest purpose, Thus he commenced carefully to write a note addressed to Carlton, and purporting to come from Florinda, in answer to his note of that evening. With her note open before him, and carefully noticing its style and manner, both in chirography and composition, he cunningly traced the following lines:

  "DEAR CARLTON:—In consequence of an unforeseen accident which I need not now explain, I shall not be able to meet you until to-morrow night, when I will do so at the hour named, and at the place designated. Be careful of your own health and safety, and do not attempt to see me until the time we meet at the gate opening on the Borg' ognisanti.

  "Affectionately thine, FLORINDA."

  This he addressed after the style of Florinda's note, sealed very ingeniously with the identical seal she had used on the note which he had intercepted, as we have seen, and forwarded it early on the following morning by one whom he could trust to Carlton, thus fully carrying out his plot of deception against them both.

  Petro's heart somehow throbbed strangely in his breast, and his conscience was very ill at case. He felt that he was enacting the coward's part in this business, and already half wished himself out of it. But if the game was a bold and hazardous one, so was the prize a brilliant one; and so he closed his eye to remorse, and spurred forward.

  Thus we blindly pursue the goal of our wishes, little heeding the cost, though we know that retribution is sure!

  CHAPTER XII. NEPHEW AND UNCLE.

  A serpent heart hid with a flowering face.

  -Shakspeare.

  HOW ingenious are the expedients to which the mind will resort to justify itself, and endeavor to still the warnings of conscience. He who commits a sin, first deceives himself, for he is led to believe that the culpable deed will be productive of a greater degree of happiness than evil to himself, else his own selfishness would deliver him from the act. I did not mean this into evil, he will say to his conscience, as it prompts him in its own silent way.

  Thus Petro, by a like process of reasoning, had brought himself almost, if not quite to the relief that the end was a justifiable one, and so did not hesitate at the means necessary to accomplish it. Was not Florinda about to marry a heretic, an American, a mere artist, without any claim to noble blood, and against the wish of her uncle and guardian? How cunningly did Mahomet add a new chapter to the Koran in justification of his amour With Mary the Coptic girl! "All things are fair and honorable in love," said Petro to himself, "even as in war; and I should be a fool if I failed to take advantage of any circumstance that chance may throw in my way. No, no; honor is not to step in between me and my love-it shall not defeat my purposes. I will win the battle first, and then repent afterwards. 'Tis the only course I can pursue."

  Having reasoned to himself much after this manner, he communicated the whole affair to his uncle, in whom he was sure of finding one who would lend his ready aid in the accomplishment of his purpose. Signor Latrezzi having employed every other means to prevent the proposed connection between Florinda and the Ameri
can artist, gladly received the proposition made to him by Petro, and fully entering into the spirit of the latter, determined to resort to stratagem to accomplish his grand object.

  It was accordingly agreed between Petro and his uncle that he, Petro, should be at the gate that night, as specified in Carlton's note to Florinda, where he should meet her so disguised and muffled up as not to be recognized, and thus by artful management pass for Carlton; soon after their leaving the city, they were to stop at a small public house on the road, where a priest should meet them; and having received his instructions from Signor Latrezzi as to the particulars of the case, would understand how to play his part in the deceit, uniting them without question.

  And thus it was agreed that Florinda should be made to marry Petro, thinking him to be Carlton. To render all things sure, and that nothing should be overlooked as it regarded necessary precaution, the uncle was to go on and stop at the inn during the afternoon with the priest, and arrange everything properly for the proposed deception.

  "It is the only means by which we can accomplish our purpose," said Petro to his uncle, in justification of the plan they had adopted, and snatching at any idea that might screen him in some degree from his own conscience, relative to the dishonest measure they were engaged in.

  "It is plain," said Signor Latrezzi, "that this Signor Carlton-this American artist, has got the girl's heart."

  "Irrevocably."

  The uncle started-the thought shooting across even his hardened and calloused heart-can this man design to marry Florinda, and yet believe, as he says, that she irrevocably loves another man?

  "Ay," he continued, with the purpose of justifying himself, as Petro had done, "she is so obstinate about it, too."

  "Yes, but this will most certainly render her perfectly tractable-no doubt," said Petro-with a laugh, thus showing how much he really loved her who was destined to become his victim.