Colomba

  CHAPTER IV

  When Miss Lydia had visited the house in which Napoleon was born, andhad procured, by means more or less moral, a fragment of the wall-paperbelonging to it, she, within two days of her landing in Corsica, beganto feel that profound melancholy which must overcome every foreigner ina country whose unsociable inhabitants appear to condemn him or her to acondition of utter isolation. She was already regretting her headstrongcaprice; but to go back at once would have been to risk her reputationas an intrepid traveller, so she made up her mind to be patient, andkill time as best she could. With this noble resolution, she broughtout her crayons and colours, sketched views of the gulf, and didthe portrait of a sunburnt peasant, who sold melons, like anymarket-gardener on the Continent, but who wore a long white beard, andlooked the fiercest rascal that had ever been seen. As all that was notenough to amuse her, she determined to turn the head of the descendantof the corporals, and this was no difficult matter, since, far frombeing in a hurry to get back to his village, Orso seemed very happy atAjaccio, although he knew nobody there. Furthermore, Miss Lydia had alofty purpose in her mind; it was nothing less than to civilize thismountain bear, and induce him to relinquish the sinister design whichhad recalled him to his island. Since she had taken the trouble to studythe young man, she had told herself it would be a pity to let himrush upon his ruin, and that it would be a glorious thing to convert aCorsican.

  Our travellers spent the day in the following manner: Every morning thecolonel and Orso went out shooting. Miss Lydia sketched or wrote lettersto her friends, chiefly for the sake of dating them from Ajaccio.Toward six o'clock the gentlemen came in, laden with game. Then followeddinner. Miss Lydia sang, the colonel went to sleep, and the young peoplesat talking till very late.

  Some formality or other, connected with his passports, had made itnecessary for Colonel Nevil to call on the prefect. This gentleman,who, like most of his colleagues, found his life very dull, had beendelighted to hear of the arrival of an Englishman who was rich, a man ofthe world, and the father of a pretty daughter. He had, therefore, givenhim the most friendly reception, and overwhelmed him with offers ofservice; further, within a very few days, he came to return his visit.The colonel, who had just dined, was comfortably stretched out upon hissofa, and very nearly asleep. His daughter was singing at a broken-downpiano; Orso was turning over the leaves of her music, and gazing at thefair singer's shoulders and golden hair. The prefect was announced, thepiano stopped, the colonel got up, rubbed his eyes, and introduced theprefect to his daughter.

  "I do not introduce M. della Rebbia to you," said he, "for no doubt youknow him already."

  "Is this gentleman Colonel della Rebbia's son?" said the prefect,looking a trifle embarrassed.

  "Yes, monsieur," replied Orso.

  "I had the honour of knowing your father."

  The ordinary commonplaces of conversation were soon exhausted. Thecolonel, in spite of himself, yawned pretty frequently. Orso, as aliberal, did not care to converse with a satellite of the Government.The burden of the conversation fell on Miss Lydia. The prefect, on hisside, did not let it drop, and it was clear that he found the greatestpleasure in talking of Paris, and of the great world, to a woman whowas acquainted with all the foremost people in European society. As hetalked, he now and then glanced at Orso, with an expression of singularcuriosity.

  "Was it on the Continent that you made M. della Rebbia's acquaintance?"he inquired.

  Somewhat embarrassed, Miss Lydia replied that she had made hisacquaintance on the ship which had carried them to Corsica.

  "He is a very gentlemanly young fellow," said the prefect, in anundertone; "and has he told you," he added, dropping his voice stilllower, "why he has returned to Corsica?"

  Miss Lydia put on her most majestic air and answered:

  "I have not asked him," she said. "You may do so."

  The prefect kept silence, but, an instant later, hearing Orso speak afew words of English to the colonel, he said:

  "You seem to have travelled a great deal, monsieur. You must haveforgotten Corsica and Corsican habits."

  "It is quite true that I was very young when I went away."

  "You still belong to the army?"

  "I am on half-pay, monsieur."

  "You have been too long in the French army not to have become a thoroughFrenchman, I have no doubt?"

  The last words of the sentence were spoken with marked emphasis.

  The Corsicans are not particularly flattered at being reminded that theybelong to the "Great Nations." They claim to be a people apart, and sowell do they justify their claim that it may very well be granted them.

  Somewhat nettled, Orso replied: "Do you think, M. le Prefet, thata Corsican must necessarily serve in the French army to become anhonourable man?"

  "No, indeed," said the prefect, "that is not my idea at all; I am onlyspeaking of certain _customs_ belonging to this country, some of whichare not such as a Government official would like to see."

  He emphasized the word _customs_, and put on as grave an expressionas his features could assume. Soon after he got up and took his leave,bearing with him Miss Lydia's promise that she would go and call on hiswife at the prefecture.

  When he had departed: "I had to come to Corsica," said Miss Lydia, "tofind out what a prefect is like. This one strikes me as rather amiable."

  "For my part," said Orso, "I can't say as much. He strikes me as a veryqueer individual, with his airs of emphasis and mystery."

  The colonel was extremely drowsy. Miss Lydia cast a glance in hisdirection, and, lowering her voice:

  "And I," she said, "do not think him so mysterious as you pretend; for Ibelieve I understood him!"

  "Then you are clear-sighted indeed, Miss Nevil. If you have seen any witin what he has just said you must certainly have put it there yourself."

  "It is the Marquis de Mascarille, I think, who says that, M.della Rebbia. But would you like me to give you a proof of myclear-sightedness? I am something of a witch, and I can read thethoughts of people I have seen only twice."

  "Good heavens! you alarm me. If you really can read my thoughts I don'tknow whether I should be glad or sorry."

  "M. della Rebbia," went on Miss Lydia, with a blush, "we have only knowneach other for a few days. But at sea, and in savage countries (you willexcuse me, I hope)--in savage countries friendships grow more quicklythan they do in society . . . so you must not be astonished if I speakto you, as a friend, upon private matters, with which, perhaps, astranger ought not to interfere."

  "Ah, do not say that word, Miss Nevil. I like the other far better."

  "Well, then, monsieur, I must tell you that without having tried to findout your secrets, I have learned some of them, and they grieve me. Ihave heard, monsieur, of the misfortune which has overtaken your family.A great deal has been said to me about the vindictive nature of yourfellow-countrymen, and the fashion in which they take their vengeance.Was it not to that the prefect was alluding?"

  "Miss Lydia! Can you believe it!" and Orso turned deadly pale.

  "No, M. della Rebbia," she said, interrupting him, "I know you to be amost honourable gentleman. You have told me yourself that it wasonly the common people in your country who still practised the_vendetta_--which you are pleased to describe as a kind of duel."

  "Do you, then, believe me capable of ever becoming a murderer?"

  "Since I have mentioned the subject at all, Monsieur Orso, you mustclearly see that I do not suspect you, and if I have spoken to you atall," she added, dropping her eyes, "it is because I have realized thatsurrounded, it may be, by barbarous prejudices on your return home, youwill be glad to know that there is somebody who esteems you for havingthe courage to resist them. Come!" said she, rising to her feet, "don'tlet us talk again of such horrid things, they make my head ache, andbesides it's very late. You are not angry with me, are you? Let us saygood-night in the English fashion," and she held out her hand.

  Orso pressed it, looking grave and deeply mov
ed.

  "Mademoiselle," he said, "do you know that there are moments when theinstincts of my country wake up within me. Sometimes, when I think ofmy poor father, horrible thoughts assail me. Thanks to you, I am rid ofthem forever. Thank you! thank you!"

  He would have continued, but Miss Lydia dropped a teaspoon, and thenoise woke up the colonel.

  "Della Rebbia, we'll start at five o'clock to-morrow morning. Bepunctual!"

  "Yes, colonel."