The Cloister and the Hearth: A Tale of the Middle Ages

  CHAPTER LX

  GERARD walked silently beside Teresa, wondering in his own mind, afterthe manner of artists, what she was going to do with him; instead ofasking her. So at last she told him of her own accord. A friend hadinformed her of a working goldsmith's wife who wanted a writer. "Hershop is hard by; you will not have far to go."

  Accordingly they soon arrived at the goldsmith's wife.

  "Madama," said Teresa, "Leonora tells me you want a writer: I havebrought you a beautiful one, he saved my child at sea. Prithee look onhim with favour."

  The goldsmith's wife complied in one sense. She fixed her eyes onGerard's comely face, and could hardly take them off again. But herreply was unsatisfactory. "Nay, I have no use for a writer. Ah! I mindnow, it is my gossip, Claelia, the sausage-maker, wants one; she told me,and I told Leonora."

  Teresa made a courteous speech and withdrew.

  Claelia lived at some distance, and when they reached her house she wasout. Teresa said calmly, "I will await her return," and sat so still,and dignified, and statuesque, that Gerard was beginning furtively todraw her, when Claelia returned.

  "Madama, I hear from the goldsmith's wife, the excellent Olympia, thatyou need a writer" (here she took Gerard by the hand and led himforward); "I have brought you a beautiful one, he saved my child fromthe cruel waves. For our Lady's sake look with favour on him."

  "My good dame, my fair Ser," said Claelia, "I have no use for a writer;but now you remind me, it was my friend Appia Claudia asked me for onebut the other day. She is a tailor, lives in the Via Lepida."

  Teresa retired calmly.

  "Madama," said Gerard, "this is likely to be a tedious business foryou."

  Teresa opened her eyes.

  "What was ever done without a little patience?" She added mildly, "Wewill knock at every door at Rome but you shall have justice."

  "But madama, I think we are dogged. I noticed a man that follows us,sometimes afar, sometimes close."

  "I have seen it," said Teresa, coldly: but her cheek coloured faintly."It is my poor Lodovico."

  She stopped and turned, and beckoned with her finger.

  A figure approached them somewhat unwillingly.

  When he came up, she gazed him full in the face, and he looked sheepish.

  "Lodovico mio," said she, "know this young Ser, of whom I have so oftenspoken to thee. Know him and love him, for he it was who saved thy wifeand child."

  At these last words Lodovico, who had been bowing and grinningartificially, suddenly changed to an expression of heartfelt gratitude,and embraced Gerard warmly.

  Yet somehow there was something in the man's original manner, and hishaving followed his wife by stealth, that made Gerard uncomfortableunder this caress. However he said, "We shall have your company, SerLodovico?"

  "No, signor," replied Lodovico, "I go not on that side Tiber."

  "Addio, then," said Teresa, significantly.

  "When shall you return home, Teresa mia?"

  "When I have done mine errand, Lodovico."

  They pursued their way in silence. Teresa now wore a sad and almostgloomy air.

  To be brief, Appia Claudia was merciful, and did not send them overTiber again, but only a hundred yards down the street to Lucretia, whokept the glove shop; she it was wanted a writer: but what for AppiaClaudia could not conceive. Lucretia was a merry little dame, whoreceived them heartily enough, and told them she wanted no writer, keptall her accounts in her head. "It was for my confessor, Father Colonna;he is mad after them."

  "I have heard of his excellency," said Teresa.

  "Who has not?"

  "But, good dame, he is a friar; he has made vow of poverty. I cannot letthe young man write and not be paid. He saved my child at sea."

  "Did he now?" And Lucretia cast an approving look on Gerard. "Well, makeyour mind easy; a Colonna never wants for money. The good father hasonly to say the word, and the princes of his race will pour a thousandcrowns into his lap. And such a confessor, dame! the best in Rome. Hishead is leagues and leagues away all the while; he never heeds what youare saying. Why I think no more of confessing my sins to him than oftelling them to that wall. Once, to try him, I confessed, along with therest, as how I had killed my lodger's little girl and baked her in apie. Well, when my voice left off confessing, he started out of hisdream, and says he, a mustering up a gloom, 'My erring sister, say threepaternosters and three ave Marias kneeling, and eat no butter nor eggsnext Wednesday, and pax vobiscum!' and off a went with his hands behindhim, looking as if there was no such thing as me in the world."

  Teresa waited patiently, then calmly brought this discursive lady backto the point: "Would she be so kind as go with this good youth to thefriar and speak for him?"

  "Alack! how can I leave my shop? And what need? His door is aye open towriters, and painters, and scholars, and all such cattle. Why, one dayhe would not receive the Duke d'Urbino, because a learned Greek wascloseted with him, and the friar's head and his so close together over adusty parchment just come in from Greece, as you could put one cowl overthe pair. His wench Onesta told me. She mostly looks in here for a chatwhen she goes an errand."

  "This is the man for thee, my friend," said Teresa.

  "All you have to do," continued Lucretia, "is to go to his lodgings (myboy shall show them you), and tell Onesta you come from me, and you area writer, and she will take you up to him. If you put a piece of silverin the wench's hand, 'twill do you no harm: that stands to reason."

  "I have silver," said Teresa, warmly.

  "But stay," said Lucretia, "mind one thing. What the young man saieth hecan do, that he must be able to do, or let him shun the good friar likepoison. He is a very wild beast against all bunglers. Why, 'twas butt'other day, one brought him an ill-carved crucifix. Says he: 'Is thishow you present 'Salvator Mundi?' who died for you in mortal agony; andyou go and grudge him careful work. This slovenly gimcrack, a crucifix?But that it is a crucifix of some sort, and I am a holy man, I'd dustyour jacket with your crucifix,' says he. Onesta heard every wordthrough the keyhole; so mind."

  "Have no fears, madama," said Teresa, loftily. "I will answer for hisability; he saved my child."

  Gerard was not subtle enough to appreciate this conclusion: and was sofar from sharing Teresa's confidence that he begged a respite. He wouldrather not go to the friar to-day: would not to-morrow do as well?

  "Here is a coward for ye," said Lucretia.

  "No, he is not a coward," said Teresa, firing up. "He is modest."

  "I am afraid of this high-born, fastidious friar," said Gerard."Consider, he has seen the handywork of all the writers in Italy, deardame Teresa; if you would but let me prepare a better piece of work thanyet I have done, and then to-morrow I will face him with it."

  "I consent," said Teresa.

  They walked home together.

  Not far from his own lodging was a shop that sold vellum. There was abeautiful white skin in the window. Gerard looked at it wistfully; buthe knew he could not pay for it; so he went on rather hastily. However,he soon made up his mind where to get vellum: and, parting with Teresaat his own door, ran hastily up stairs, and took the bond he had broughtall the way from Sevenbergen, and laid it with a sigh on the table. Hethen prepared with his chemicals to erase the old writing; but, as thiswas his last chance of reading it, he now overcame his deadly repugnanceto bad writing, and proceeded to decipher the deed in spite of itsdetestable contractions. It appeared by this deed that Ghysbrecht VanSwieten was to advance some money to Floris Brandt on a piece of land,and was to repay himself out of the rent.

  On this Gerard felt it would be imprudent and improper to destroy thedeed. On the contrary he vowed to decipher every word, at his leisure.He went down stairs, determined to buy a small piece of vellum with hishalf of the card money.

  At the bottom of the stairs he found the landlady and Teresa talking. Atsight of him the former cried: "Here he is. You are caught, donna mia.See what she has bought you!" And whipped out from under her a
pron thevery skin of vellum Gerard had longed for.

  "Why, dame! why, donna Teresa!" And he was speechless, with pleasure andastonishment.

  "Dear donna Teresa, there is not a skin in all Rome like it. How evercame you to hit on this one? 'Tis glamour."

  "Alas, dear boy, did not thine eye rest on it with desire? and didstthou not sigh in turning away from it? And was it for Teresa to let theewant the thing after that?"

  "What sagacity! what goodness, madama! Oh, dame, I never thought Ishould possess this. What did you pay for it?"

  "I forget. Addio, Fiammina. Addio, Ser Gerard. Be happy, be prosperous,as you are good." And the Roman matron glided away, while Gerard washesitating, and thinking how to offer to pay so stately a creature forher purchase.

  * * * * *

  The next day in the afternoon he went to Lucretia, and her boy took himto Fra Colonna's lodgings. He announced his business and feed Onesta,and she took him up to the friar. Gerard entered with a beating heart.The room, a large one, was strewed and heaped with objects of art,antiquity, and learning, lying about in rich profusion, and confusion.Manuscripts, pictures, carvings in wood and ivory, musical instruments;and in this glorious chaos sat the friar, poring intently over anArabian manuscript.

  He looked up a little peevishly at the interruption. Onesta whispered inhis ear.

  "Very well," said he. "Let him be seated. Stay; young man, show me howyou write!" And he threw Gerard a piece of paper, and pointed to aninkhorn.

  "So please you, reverend father," said Gerard, "my hand, it tremblethtoo much at this moment; but last night I wrote a vellum page of Greek,and the Latin version by its side, to show the various character."

  "Show it me!"

  Gerard brought the work to him in fear and trembling; then stood,heart-sick, awaiting his verdict.

  When it came it staggered him. For the verdict was, a Dominican fallingon his neck.