CHAPTER XI.
As a pack of blood-hounds, after having in vain tracked the hare, returndesponding towards their master, with their ears down, and tailshanging, so, in this night of confusion, returned the bravoes to thepalace of Don Roderick, who was pacing, in the dark, the floor of anupper uninhabited chamber. Full of impatience and uncertainty as to theissue of the expedition, and not without anxiety for the possibleconsequences, his ear was attentive to every sound, and his eye to everymovement on the esplanade. This was the most daring piece of villany hehad ever undertaken; but he felt that the precautions he had used wouldpreserve him from suspicion. "And who will dare to come here, and ask ifshe is not in this palace? Should this young fellow do so, he will bewell received, I promise him. Let the friar come! yea, let him come. Ifthe old woman presumes so far, she shall be sent to Bergamo. As for thelaw, I do fear it not; the _podesta_ is neither a boy nor a fool! Pshaw!there's nothing to fear. How will Attilio be surprised to-morrowmorning; he will find I am not a mere boaster. But if any difficultyshould arise, he'll assist--the honour of all my relatives will bepledged." But these anxious thoughts subsided as he reverted toLucy.--"She will be frightened to find herself alone, surrounded only bythese rough visages: by Bacchus, the most human face here is my own, andshe will be obliged to have recourse to me--to entreaty." In the midstof these calculations he heard a trampling of feet, approached thewindow, and looking out exclaimed, "It is they! But the litter! thedevil! where is the litter? Three, five, eight, they are all there; butwhere is the litter? The devil! Griso shall render me an account ofthis." He then advanced to the head of the stairs to meet Griso. "Well,"cried he, "Signor Bully, Signor Captain, Signor 'Leave it to me!'"
"It is hard," said Griso,--"it is hard to meet with reproach, when onehas hazarded one's life to perform his duty."
"How has it happened? Let us hear, let us hear," said he, as he advancedtowards the room, followed by Griso, who related, as clearly as hecould, the occurrences of the night.
"Thou hast done well," said Don Roderick; "thou hast done all that thoucouldst--but to think that this roof harbours a spy! If I discover himI will settle matters for him; and I tell thee, Griso, I suspect theinformation was given the day of the dinner."
"I have had the same suspicion," said Griso; "and if my master discoversthe scoundrel, he has only to trust him to me. He has made me pass atroublesome night, and I wish to pay him for it. But there must be, Ithink, some other cause, which we cannot at present fathom; to-morrow,Signor, to-morrow we will see clear water."
"Have you been recognised by any one?"
Griso thought not; and after having given him many orders for themorrow, and wishing to make amends for the impetuosity with which he hadat first greeted him, Don Roderick said, "Go to rest, poor Griso! youmust indeed require it. Labouring all day, and half the night, and thento be received in this manner! Go to rest now; for we may yet be obligedto put your friendship to a severer test. Good night."
The next morning Don Roderick sought the Count Attilio, who, receivinghim with a laugh, said, "San Martin!"
"I will pay the wager," said Don Roderick. "I thought indeed to havesurprised you this morning, and therefore have kept from you somecircumstances. I will now tell you all."
"The friar's hand is in this business," said his cousin, after havingheard him through: "this friar, with his playing at bo-peep, and givingadvice; I know him for a busybody and a rascal! And you did not confidein me, and tell me what brought him here the other day to trifle withyou. If I had been in your place he should not have gone out as he camein, of that be assured."
"What! would you wish me to incur the resentment of all the capuchins inItaly?"
"In such a moment," said the count, "I should have forgotten there wasany other capuchin in the world than this daring rascal; but the meansare not wanting, within the pale of prudence, to take satisfaction evenof a capuchin. It is well for him that he has escaped the punishmentbest suited to him; but I take him henceforth under my protection, andwill teach him how to speak to his superiors."
"Do not make matters worse."
"Trust me for once; I will serve you as a relation and a friend."
"What do you mean to do?"
"I don't know yet; but I will certainly pay the friar. Let me see--thecount my uncle, who is one of the secret council, will do the service;dear uncle! How pleased I am when I can make him work for me, apolitician of his stamp! The day after to-morrow I will be at Milan, andin some way or other the friar shall have his due."
Meanwhile breakfast was brought in, which however did not interrupt theimportant discussion. Count Attilio interested himself in the cause fromhis friendship for his cousin, and the honour of the name, according tohis notions of friendship and honour; yet he could hardly help laughingevery now and then at the ridiculous issue of the adventure. But DonRoderick, who had calculated upon making a master-stroke, was vexed athis signal failure, and agitated by various passions. "Fine stories willbe circulated," said he, "of last night's affair, but no matter; as tojustice, I defy it: it does not exist; and if it did, I should equallydefy it. Apropos, I have sent word this morning to the constable, tomake no deposition respecting the affair, and he will be sure to followmy advice; but tattling always annoys me,--it is enough that _you_ haveit in your power to laugh at me."
"It is well you have given the constable his message," said the count;"this great empty-headed, obstinate proser of a _podesta_ is however aman who knows his duty, and we must be careful not to place him indifficulty. If a fellow of a constable makes a deposition, the_podesta_, however well intentioned, is obliged to----"
"But you," interrupted Don Roderick, with a little warmth,--"you spoilmy affairs, by contradicting him, and laughing at him on every occasion.Why the devil can't you suffer a magistrate to be an obstinate beast,while in other things that suit our convenience he is an honest man?"
"Do you know, cousin," said the count, regarding him with an expressionof affected surprise, "do you know that I begin to think you capable offear? You take the _podesta_ and myself to be in earnest."
"Well, well, have not you yourself said that we should be careful?"
"Certainly; and when the question is serious, I will show you I am not aboy. Shall I tell you what I will do for you? I will go in person tomake the _podesta_ a visit; do you not think he will be pleased with thehonour? And I will let him talk by the half hour of the count duke, andthe Spanish keeper of the castle, and then I will throw in some remarksabout the signor count of the secret council, my uncle; you know whateffect this will have. Finally, he has more need of our protection, thanyou have of his condescension. He knows this well enough, and I shallleave him better disposed than I find him, that you may depend upon." Sosaying, he took his departure, leaving Don Roderick alone to wait thereturn of Griso, who had been, in obedience to his orders, reconnoitringthe ground, and ascertaining the state of the public mind with regard tothe events of the preceding night. He came at last, at the hour ofdinner, to give in his relation. The tumult of this night had been soloud, and the disappearance of three persons from the village somysterious, that strict and indefatigable search would naturally be madefor them; and on the other hand, those who were possessed of partialinformation on the subject were too numerous to preserve an entiresilence. Perpetua was assailed every where to tell what had caused hermaster such a fright, and she, perceiving how she had been deceived byAgnes, and feeling exasperated at her perfidy, had need of a littleself-restraint; not that she complained of the deception practised onherself, of that she did not breathe a syllable; but the injury done toher poor master could not pass in silence, and that such an injuryshould have been attempted by such worthy people! Don Abbondio couldcommand and entreat her to be silent, and she could reply that there wasno necessity for inculcating a thing so obvious and proper, but certainit is that the secret remained in the heart of the poor woman as newwine in an old cask, which ferments and bubbles, and if it does not sendthe bung into the air,
works out in foam between the staves, and dropshere and there, so that one can drink it, and tell what sort of wine itis. Jervase, who could scarcely believe that for once he knew a littlemore than others, and who felt himself a man, since he had been anaccomplice in a criminal affair, was dying to communicate it. And Tony,however alarmed at the thoughts of further enquiries and investigation,was bursting, in spite of all his prudence, till he had told the wholesecret to his wife, who was not dumb. The one who spoke least wasMenico, because his parents, alarmed at his coming into collision withDon Roderick, had kept him in the house for several days; theythemselves, however, without wishing to appear to know more than others,insinuated that the fugitives had taken refuge at Pescarenico. Thisreport, then, became current among the villagers. But no one couldaccount for the attack of the bravoes: all agreed in suspecting DonRoderick; but the rest was total obscurity. The presence of the threebravoes at the inn was discussed, and the landlord was interrogated; buthis memory was, on this point, as defective as ever. His inn, heconcluded as usual, was just like a sea-port. Who was this pilgrim, seenby Stefano and Carlandrea, and whom the robbers wished to murder, andhad carried off? For what purpose had he been at the cottage? Some saidit was a good spirit, come to the assistance of the inmates; others,that it was the spirit of a wicked pilgrim, who came at night to joinsuch companions, and perform such deeds, as he had been accustomed towhile living; others, again, went so far as to conjecture that it wasone of these very robbers, clothed like a pilgrim; so that Griso, withall his experience, would have been at a loss to discover who it was, ifhe had expected to acquire this information from others. But, as thereader knows, that which was perplexity to them, was perfect clearnessto Griso. He was enabled, therefore, from these various sources, toobtain a sufficiently distinct account for the ear of Don Roderick. Herelated the attempt upon Don Abbondio, which accounted for thedesertion of the cottage, without the necessity of imagining a spy inthe palace: he told of their flight, which might be accounted for by thefear of the discovery of their trick upon Don Abbondio, or by theintelligence that their cottage had been broken into, and that they hadprobably gone together to Pescarenico. "Fled together!" cried DonRoderick, hoarse with rage: "together! and this rascal friar! this friarshall answer it! Griso, this night I must know where they are. I shallhave no peace; ascertain if they are at Pescarenico; quick; fly; fourcrowns immediately, and my protection for ever! this rascal! thisfriar!"
Griso was once more in the field; and on the evening of this very dayreported to his worthy master the desired intelligence, and by thefollowing means. The good man by whom the little party had beenconducted to Monza, returning with his carriage to Pescarenico at thehour of vespers, chanced to meet, before he reached his home, aparticular friend, to whom he related, in great confidence, the goodwork he had accomplished; so that Griso could, two hours after, informDon Roderick that Lucy and her mother had taken refuge in a convent ofMonza, and that Renzo had proceeded on his way to Milan. Don Roderickfelt his hopes revive at this separation; and having, during great partof the night, revolved in his mind the measures for effecting his wickedpurpose, he aroused Griso early in the morning, and gave him the ordershe had premeditated.
"Signor?" said Griso, hesitating.
"Well, have I have not spoken clearly?"
"If you would send some other----"
"How?"
"Most illustrious signor, I am ready to sacrifice my life for my master,and it is my duty to do so; but you, you would not desire me to place itin peril?"
"Well?"
"Your illustrious lordship knows well these few murders that are laid tomy account, and----Here I am under the protection of your lordship, andin Milan the livery of your lordship is known, but in Monza _I_ amknown. And, your lordship knows, I do not say it boastingly, he whoshould deliver me up to justice would be well rewarded, a hundred goodcrowns, and permission to liberate two banditti."
"What, the devil!" said Don Roderick, "you are like a vile cur, who hasscarce courage to rush at the legs of such as pass by the door; and, notdaring to leave the house, keeps himself within the protection of hismaster."
"I think I have given proof, signor," said Griso.
"Well?"
"Well," resumed Griso, boldly, thus put on his mettle, "your lordshipmust forget my hesitation; heart of a lion, legs of a hare, I am readyto go."
"But you shall not go alone; take with you two of the best; _Cut-face_and _Aim-well_, and go boldly, and show yourself to be still Griso. Thedevil! people will be well content to let such faces as yours passwithout molestation! And as to the bailiffs of Monza, they must havebecome weary of life to place it in such danger, for the chance of ahundred crowns! But I do not believe that I am so far unknown there,that the stamp of my service should pass for nothing."
Griso, having received ample and minute instructions, took hisdeparture, accompanied by the two bravoes; cursing in his heart thewhims of his master.
It now became the design of Don Roderick to contrive some way, by whichRenzo, separated as he was from Lucy, should be prevented fromattempting to return. He thought that the most certain means would be tohave him sent out of the state, but this required the sanction of thelaw; he could, for example, give a colouring to the attempt at thecurate's house, and represent it as a seditious act, and through DoctorAzzecca Garbugli give the _podesta_ to understand that it was his dutyto apprehend Renzo. But while he thought of the doctor as the man themost suitable for this service, Renzo himself put an end to much furtherdeliberation on the subject by withdrawing himself.
Like the boy who drives his little Indian pigs to the fold, whoseobstinacy impels them divers ways, and thus obliges him first to applyto one and then to another till he can succeed in penning them all, soare we obliged to play the same game with the personages of our story.Having secured Lucy, we ran to Don Roderick. Him we now quit to give anaccount of Renzo.
After the mournful parting which we have related, he set out,discouraged and disheartened, on his way to Milan. To bid farewell tohis home and his country, and what was more, to Lucy! to find himselfamong strangers, not knowing where to rest his head, and all on accountof this villain! When these thoughts presented themselves to the mind ofRenzo, he was, for the moment, absorbed by rage and the desire ofrevenge; but when he recollected the prayer that he had uttered with thegood friar in the convent of Pescarenico, his better feelings prevailed,and he was enabled to acquire some degree of resignation to thechastisements of which he stood so much in need. The road lay betweentwo high banks; it was muddy, stony, and furrowed by deep wheel tracks,which, after a rain, became rivulets, overflowing the road, andrendering it nearly impassable. In such places small raised footpathsindicated that others had found a way by the fields. Renzo ascended oneof these paths to the high ground, whence he beheld, as if rising from adesert, and not in the midst of a city, the noble structure of thecathedral, and he forgot all his misfortunes in contemplating, even at adistance, this eighth wonder of the world, of which he had heard so muchfrom his infancy. But looking back, he saw in the horizon the notchedridge of mountains, and distinctly perceiving, among them, his own_Resegone_, he gazed at it mournfully a while, and then with a beatingheart went on his way; steeples, towers, cupolas, and roofs soonappeared: he descended into the road, and when he perceived that he wasvery near the city, he accosted a traveller, with the civility which wasnatural to him, "Will you be so good, sir----"
"What do you want, my good young man?"
"Will you be so good as to direct me by the shortest way to the conventof the capuchins, where Father Bonaventura resides?"
He replied, very affably, "My good lad, there is more than one convent;you must tell me more clearly what and whom you seek."
Renzo then took from his bosom the letter of Father Christopher, andpresented it to the gentleman, who, after having read it, returned it,saying, "The eastern gate; you are fortunate, young man--the convent youseek is but a short distance from this. Take this path to the left; itis a
by-way, and in a little while you will find yourself by the side ofa long and low building; that is the _lazaretto_; keep along the ditchthat encircles it, and you will soon be at the eastern gate. Enter, anda few steps further on you will see before you an open square with fineelm trees; the convent is there--you cannot mistake it. God be withyou!" And accompanying his last words with a kind wave of his hand, heproceeded on his way. Renzo was astonished at the good manners of thecitizens to countrymen, not knowing that it was an extraordinary day, aday in which cloaks humbled themselves to doublets. He followed the pathwhich had been pointed out to him, and arrived at the eastern entrance,which consisted of two pilasters, with a roofing above to secure thegates, and on one side was a small house for the toll-gatherer. Theopenings of the rampart descended irregularly, and their surface wasfilled with rubbish. The street of the suburb which led from this gatewas not unlike the one which now opens from the Tosa gate. A small ditchran in the midst of it, until within a few steps of the gate, anddivided it into two small crooked streets, covered with dust or mud,according to the season. At the place where was, and is still, thecollection of houses called the Borghetto, the ditch empties itself intoa common sewer, and thence into another ditch which runs along thewalls. At this point was a column with a cross oh it, dedicated to _SanDionigi_; to the right and left were gardens enclosed by hedges, and atintervals, small houses inhabited for the most part by washerwomen.Renzo passed through the gate, without being stopped by thetoll-gatherer, which appeared to him very remarkable, as he had heardthose few of his townsmen, who could boast of having been at Milan,relate wonderful stories of the strict search and close enquiries towhich those were subjected who entered its gates. The street wasdeserted, and if he had not heard the humming of a crowd at a distance,he might have thought he was entering a city which had been abandoned byits inhabitants. As he advanced, he saw on the pavement somethingscattered here and there, which was as white as snow, but snow at thisseason it could not be; he touched it, and found that it was flour."There must be a great plenty in Milan," said he, "if they thus throwaway the gifts of God. They give out that famine is every where; thisthey do to keep poor people abroad quiet." But in a few moments hearrived in front of the column, and saw on the steps of the pedestalcertain things scattered, which were not assuredly stones, and which, ifthey had been on a baker's counter, he would not have hesitated to callloaves of bread. But Renzo dared not so easily trust his eyes, becausetruly this was not a place for bread. "Let us see what this is," saidhe, and approaching the column, he took one in his hand; it was, indeed,a very white loaf of bread, such as Renzo was accustomed to eat only onfestival days. "It is really bread!" said he, in wonder. "Do theyscatter it thus here? And in a year like this? And do they suffer it tolie here, and not take the trouble to gather it? This must be a fineplace to live in!" After ten miles of travel, in the fresh air of themorning, the sight of the bread awaked his appetite. "Shall I take it?"said he again. "Poh! they have left it to the dogs; surely, a Christianmay take advantage of it; and if the owner should come, I can pay him atany rate." So saying, he put in one pocket that which he had in hishand, took a second, and put it in the other, and a third, which hebegan to eat, and resumed his way, full of wonder at the strangeness ofthe incident. As he moved on he saw people approaching from the interiorof the city; and his attention was drawn to those who appeared first; aman, a woman, and a boy, each with a load which seemed beyond theirstrength, and exhibiting each a grotesque appearance. Their clothes, orrather their rags, powdered with meal, their faces the same, andexcessively heated; they walked, not only as if overcome by the weight,but as if their limbs had been beaten and bruised. The man supportedwith difficulty a great bag of flour, which having holes here and there,scattered its contents at every unequal movement. But the figure of thewoman was still more remarkable: she had her petticoat turned up, filledwith as much flour as it could hold, and a little more; so that fromtime to time it flew over the pavement. She was, indeed, a grotesquepicture, with her arms stretched out to encompass her burden, andstaggering under its weight, her bare legs were seen beneath it. The boyheld with both hands a basket full of bread on his head, but he wasdetained behind his parents to pick up the loaves which were constantlyfalling from it.
"If you let another fall, you ugly little dog----" said the mother, in arage.
"I don't let them fall; they fall of themselves. How can I help it?"replied he.
"Eh! it's well for thee that my hands are full," resumed the woman.
"Come, come," said the man, "now that we have a little plenty, let usenjoy it in peace."
Meanwhile there had arrived a company of strangers, and one of themaddressed the woman, "Where are we to go for bread?"--"On, on," repliedshe, and added, muttering, "These rascal countrymen will sweep all theshops and warehouses, and leave none for us."
"There is a share for every one, chatterer," said her husband; "plenty,plenty."
From all that Renzo saw and heard, he gathered that there was aninsurrection in the city, and that each one provided for himself, inproportion to his will and strength. Although we would desire to makeour poor mountaineer appear to the most advantage, historical truthobliges us to say that his first sentiment was that of complacency. Hehad so little to rejoice at, in the ordinary course of affairs, that hecongratulated himself on a change, of whatever nature it might be. Andfor the rest, he, who was not a man superior to the age in which helived, held the common opinion that the scarcity of bread had beencaused by the speculators and bakers, and that any method would bejustifiable, of wresting from them the aliment which they cruelly deniedto the people. However, he determined to keep away from the tumult, andcongratulated himself on the good fortune of having for his friend acapuchin, who would afford him shelter and good advice. Occupied withsuch reflections, and noticing from time to time as more people came uploaded with plunder, he proceeded to the convent.
The church and convent of the capuchins was situated in the centre of asmall square, shaded by elm trees; Renzo placed in his bosom hisremaining half loaf, and with his letter in his hand, approached thegate and rung the bell. At a small grated window appeared the face of afriar, porter to the convent, to ask "who was there?"
"One from the country, who brings a letter to Father Bonaventura, fromFather Christopher."
"Give here," said the friar, thrusting his hand through the grate.
"No, no," said Renzo, "I must give it into his own hands."
"He is not in the convent."
"Suffer me to enter and wait for him," replied Renzo.
"You had best wait in the church," said the friar; "perhaps that may beof service to you. Into the convent you do not enter at present." Sosaying, he hastily closed the window, leaving Renzo to receive therepulse with the best grace he could. He was about to follow the adviceof the porter, when he was seized with the desire to give a glance atthe tumult. He crossed the square, and advanced towards the middle ofthe city, where the disturbance was greatest. Whilst he is proceedingthither, we will relate, as briefly as possible, the causes of thiscommotion.