CHAPTER XVIII.
On this same day, the 13th of November, there arrived a courierextraordinary to the signor _podesta_ of Lecco. The courier brought anexpress from the head of the police, containing an order to make everypossible search for a young man of the name of Lorenzo Tramaglino, silkweaver, who, having escaped from the hands "_of the illustrious headabove cited_," had probably returned to the territory of Lecco. That, incase of his discovery, he should be committed to prison, and an accountrendered to the police of his wicked practices, his ostensible means ofprocuring subsistence, and his accomplices. And furthermore, that anexecution should be put into the house of the above-said LorenzoTramaglino, and every thing taken from thence that might aid in throwinglight on his nefarious deeds.
The signor podesta, after ascertaining as well as he could, that Renzohad not returned to the village, took with him the constable of theplace, and obeyed these injunctions, accompanied by a large escort ofnotary, constable, and officers. The key of the house was not to befound; the door was accordingly forced. The report of this transactionspread around, and soon reached the ears of Father Christopher. The goodman was surprised and afflicted; and not being able to gain satisfactoryinformation with regard to Renzo, he wrote to the Father Bonaventura forintelligence concerning him. In the mean while the relations and friendsof Renzo were summoned to give in their testimony, with regard to hisdepravity of character. To bear the name of Tramaglino became adisgrace; the village was all in commotion. By little and little, it wasunderstood that Renzo had escaped from the hands of justice, even in theheart of Milan, and had disappeared: it was whispered that he hadcommitted some enormous crime, the nature of which remained unknown.The more enormous, however, the less it was believed, for Renzo wasknown by every body to be a worthy youth; the greatest number thought,therefore, that it was a machination of Don Roderick to ruin his poorrival. Thus it is true, that judging from inference, and without theindispensable knowledge of facts, we often wrongfully suspect even thewicked.
But we, who have the facts in our hands, can affirm, that if DonRoderick had no share in creating these misfortunes, he rejoiced in themas if they had been his own work; and made them a subject of merrimentwith his friends, and above all with Count Attilio, who had beendeterred from prosecuting his intended journey to Milan by the accountreceived of the disturbances there: but this order from the police gavehim to understand that things had resumed their usual course. He thendetermined to depart immediately, and, exhorting his cousin to persistin his undertaking, and to surmount every obstacle, he promised to usehis efforts to rid him of the friar. Attilio had hardly taken hisdeparture, when Griso arrived, safe and sound, from Monza, and gave inhis report to his master of all he had been able to collect. He told himthat Lucy had been taken into the convent under the protection of thesignora; that she lived there as secluded as if she were a nun, neverputting her foot without the walls; that she assisted at the ceremoniesof the church behind a grated window; and that it was impossible toobtain a view of her.
This relation put the devil into Roderick, or rather rendered the onemore uncontrollable that sojourned there already. So many favourablecircumstances concurring to forward his designs, inflamed the medley ofspleen, rage, and infamous desire, which he dignified by the name oflove. Renzo absent, expelled, banished, every measure against him becamelawful; his betrothed herself might be considered in some sort as theproperty of a rebel. The only man who could and would take her under hisprotection, the friar, would soon be deprived of the power to do so;but, amidst so many unlooked-for facilities, one obstacle appeared torender them unavailable. A monastery of Monza, even if there were no_signora_ there, was an obstacle not to be surmounted even by DonRoderick. He in vain wandered, in his imagination, around this asylum,not being able to devise any means of violating it, either by force orintrigue. He was upon the point of renouncing the enterprise, of goingto Milan, of mixing in its pleasures, and thus drowning all remembranceof Lucy; but, in place of relief, would he not find there fresh food forvexation? Attilio had certainly told the story, and every one would askhim about the mountain girl! What reply would he be obliged to give? Hehad been outwitted by a capuchin and a clown; and, moreover, when ahappy unexpected chance had rid him of the one, and a skilful friendremoved the other, then he, like a simpleton, abandoned the undertaking!There was enough in this to prevent his ever lifting up his head in thesociety of his equals; or else to compel him to go among them sword inhand! And on the other hand, how could he return and remain in thisspot, where he would be tormented by the remembrance of his passion, andthe disgrace of its failure. How resolve? What do? Shall he go forward?Shall he draw back? A means presented itself to his mind, by which hisenterprise might succeed. This was to call to his aid the assistance ofa man whose power could accomplish whatever he thought fit to undertake,and for whom the difficulty of an enterprise would be only an additionalmotive for engaging in it. But this project had nevertheless itsinconveniences and dangers, the consequences of which it was impossibleto calculate. No one could foresee the termination of an affair, whenthey had once embarked in it with this man; a powerful auxiliary,assuredly, but a guide not less absolute than dangerous. Suchreflections kept Don Roderick many days in a state of painfulirresolution: he received, in the meanwhile, a letter from his cousin,informing him that the intrigue was prospering. After the lightning camethe thunder. One fine morning he heard that Father Christopher had leftthe convent of Pescarenico! Such complete and prompt success, and theletter of Attilio, who encouraged him by his advice and vexed him by hisjokes, inclined him to hazard every thing; and what above all confirmedhim in his intention, was the unexpected intelligence that Agnes hadreturned to the village, and was at her own house! We will relate thesetwo events for the information of the reader.
Lucy and her mother had hardly entered their asylum, when the news ofthe terrible insurrection at Milan spread through Monza, and evenpenetrated the walls of the convent. The accounts were various andcontradictory.
The portress, who from necessity went much abroad, heard all the news,and related them to her guests. "They have put several in prison," saidshe; "some were taken before the bakers of the Crutches, others in frontof the house inhabited by the superintendant of provision----But listento this; there was one who escaped, who was from Lecco, or thereabouts.I don't know his name, but I will ascertain it from some one; perhapsyou may know him."
This intelligence, joined to the circumstance that Renzo must havearrived in Milan precisely on this fatal day, gave some uneasiness toLucy and her mother; judge what must have been their feelings, when theportress came again to tell them, "He that fled to avoid hanging is fromyour village, a silk weaver, one Tramaglino. Do you know him?"
Lucy was seated, busy at her work; it fell from her hands; she turnedpale, and her emotion must certainly have attracted the attention of theportress, had she not been too eagerly engaged in delivering her reportto Agnes, who was standing by the door at some distance from the poorgirl. Agnes, notwithstanding she was much agitated, avoided anyexhibition of her feelings. She made an effort to reply, that in a smallvillage every one was known, but she could hardly believe this to betrue of Tramaglino, as he was a quiet worthy youth. She asked if it wastrue that he had escaped, and if it was known where he was?
"Escaped, he certainly has, for every one knows it; but where, no oneknows. Perhaps they may take him again, perhaps he is in safety; but ifyour peaceful youth falls into their hands----"
Here very fortunately the portress was called away; you may imagine thefeelings of Agnes and her daughter! The poor woman and the desolate Lucyremained more than a day in cruel uncertainty, imagining the details andthe probable consequences of this unhappy event. Tormented with vainhopes and anxious fears, their only relief was in each other's sympathy.
At length, a man arrived at the convent, and asked to see Agnes; he wasa fishmonger of Pescarenico, who was going, according to custom, toMilan, to sell his fish; the good Christopher had desir
ed him to stop atthe convent, to relate what he knew of the unhappy affair of Renzo toLucy and her mother, and exhort them, in his name, to have patience andto confide in God. As for him, he should certainly not forget them, andwould seize every possible opportunity to aid them; in the meanwhile hewould not fail to send them news every week, by this or some othermeans. All that the messenger could tell them further of Renzo was, thatit was considered certain that he had taken refuge in Bergamo. Such acertainty was a great balm to the affliction of Lucy; her tears flowedless bitterly, and she experienced some comfort in discoursing upon itwith her mother; and they united in heartfelt thanks to the Great Beingwho had saved them from so many dangers.
Gertrude made Lucy often visit her in her private parlour, and conversedmuch with her, finding a charm in the ingenuousness and sweetness of thepoor girl, and delighted with listening to expressions of gratitude fromher mouth. She changed insensibly the suspicions of Lucy with regard toher into a sentiment of the deepest compassion, by relating to her, inconfidence, a part of her history, that part of it which she dared avow.Lucy found in the relation reasons more than sufficient to explain whathad appeared strange in the manners of her benefactress. She was verycareful, however, not to return the confidence Gertrude placed in her,by speaking of her new fears and misfortunes, lest she should therebyextend the knowledge of Renzo's supposed crime and disgrace. She avoidedas much as possible replying to the repeated enquiries of the signora onthat part of her history, which preceded the promise of marriage; toher modesty and innocence it appeared an impossible thing to conversefreely on such a subject. Gertrude was often tempted to quarrel with hershyness, but how could she? Lucy was nevertheless so respectful, sograteful, so trusting! Sometimes her shrinking and susceptible modestymight displease her, from other motives; but all was lost in thesweetness of the thought that to Lucy, if to no other human being, shewas doing good. And this was true; for besides the asylum she affordedher, her conversation and endearments encouraged the timid mind of themaiden; whose only other resource was constant employment. The nuns, ather solicitation, furnished her with occupation; and, as from morningtill night she plied her needle, her reel, her beloved but now forsakenreel, recurred to her memory, bringing with it a throng of painfulrecollections.
The following week another message was received from Father Christopher,confirming the flight of Renzo, but with regard to the extent or natureof his misdemeanor, there was no further information. The friar hadhoped for satisfaction on this point from his brother at Milan, to whomhe had recommended him; but had received for answer that he had neitherseen the young man, nor received the letter; that some one from abroadhad been at the convent to ask for him, and not finding him there, hadgone away.
The third week there was no messenger, which not only deprived them of adesired and expected consolation, but also produced a thousand uneasysuspicions. Before this, Agnes had thought of taking a journey home, andthis disappointment confirmed her resolution. Lucy was unwilling to beseparated from her mother, but her anxiety to gain more satisfactoryintelligence of Renzo, and the security she felt in her sacred asylum,reconciled her. It was therefore agreed between them, that Agnes shouldwait on the road the following day for the return of the fishmonger fromMilan, and should ask the favour of a seat in his cart, in order to goto her mountains. Upon seeing him approach, therefore, she asked him ifFather Christopher had not sent any message by him. The fishmonger hadbeen occupied the whole day before his departure in fishing, and hadreceived no message from the friar! She then preferred her request, andhaving obtained a compliance with it, bade farewell to her daughter andthe signora, promising a speedy return.
The journey was without accident; early in the morning they arrived atPescarenico. Here Agnes took leave of her conductor, with many thanksfor the obligation he had conferred on her; and as she was before theconvent gates, she determined to speak with the good friar before sheproceeded homeward. She pulled the bell--the friar Galdino, whom we mayremember as the nut collector, appeared to answer it.
"Oh! good dame, what good wind brings you here?"
"I come to see Father Christopher!"
"Father Christopher? He is not here!"
"No? will it be long before he returns? Where is he gone?"
"To Rimini."
"To----?"
"To Rimini."
"Where is that?"
"Eh! eh! eh!" replied the friar, extending his arms, as if to indicate agreat distance.
"Miserable that I am! But why did he go so suddenly?"
"Because the father provincial would have it so."
"And why did they send away one who did so much good here? Oh! unhappyme!"
"If our superiors were obliged to give reasons for what they do, wherewould be our obedience, my good woman?"
"But this is such a loss!"
"Shall I tell you how it has happened? they have probably wanted a goodpreacher at Rimini; (we have them in every place to be sure, butsometimes a particular man is needed;) the father provincial of thatplace has written to the father provincial of this, to know if therewere such a person in this convent; the father provincial returned foranswer, that there was none but Father Christopher who corresponded tothe description."
"Oh! unfortunate! When did he go?"
"The day before yesterday."
"Oh! if I had only come a few days sooner, as I wished to do! And dothey not know when he will return?"
"Why! my dear woman! the father provincial knows, if any one does; butwhen one of our preachers has taken his flight, it is impossible to sayon what branch he will rest. They want him here; they want him there;for we have convents in the four quarters of the world. FatherChristopher will make a great noise at Rimini, with his Lent sermon; thefame of this great preacher will resound every where, and it is our dutyto give him up, because we live on the charity of others, and it is butright we should serve all the world."
"Oh! misery! misery!" cried Agnes, weeping; "what shall I do withoutthis good man? He was a father to us; what a loss! what a loss!"
"Hear me, good woman--Father Christopher was truly a good man, but wehave others equally so; there is Father Antanasio, Father Girolamo,Father Zaccaria! Father Zaccaria is a worthy man! And you must notwonder, as some ignorant people do, at his shrill voice and his littlebeard; I do not say that he is a preacher, because every one has histalent; but to give advice, he is the man."
"Oh! holy patience!" cried Agnes, with a mixture of gratitude andvexation one feels at an offer containing more good-will thansuitableness; "What is it to me what another man is, when he who is goneknew our affairs, and had every thing prepared to help us!"
"Then you must have patience."
"I know that. Excuse the trouble I have given you."
"That is of no consequence, my good woman; I pity you; if you decideupon asking advice of one of the fathers, you will find the conventstill in its place. But let me see you soon, when I collect the oil."
"God preserve you," said Agnes; and she proceeded homeward, confusedand disconcerted as a blind man who had lost his staff.
Having more information than Friar Galdino, we are enabled to relate thetruth of this affair. Attilio, immediately on his arrival at Milan,performed his promise to Don Roderick, and visited his uncle of thesecret council; (this was a committee composed of thirteen members,whose sanction was necessary to the proceedings of government; in caseof the absence or death of the governor, the council assumed temporarilythe control.) The count, one of the oldest members of the council,enjoyed in it some authority, which he did not fail to make known on alloccasions. His language was ambiguous; his silence significant; he hadthe art of flattering, without absolutely promising; of menacing,without perhaps the power to perform; but these flatteries and menacesproduced in the minds of others an impression of his unlimited power,which was the end and purpose of all his actions. Towards this point helately made a great stride on an extraordinary occasion. He had beensent on an embassy to Madrid! And to hear him
describe his receptionthere! Among other honours, the count-duke had treated him withparticular attention, had admitted him to his confidence, so far as toask him in the presence of the whole court, _if he were pleased withMadrid_? and to tell him on another occasion, at a window, that _thecathedral of Milan was the most magnificent church in the king'sdominions_.
After having paid his duty to the count, and presented the complimentsof his cousin, Attilio, with a seriousness which he knew well how toassume, said, "I believe it to be my duty to inform the signor, myuncle, of an affair in which Roderick is concerned, and which requiresthe interference of your lordship to avert the serious consequencesthat----"
"Ah! one of his pranks, I suppose."
"In truth, I must say that the injury has not been committed byRoderick, but he is exasperated, and none but my uncle can----"
"What is it? what is it?"
"There is in his neighbourhood a capuchin friar who sets himself inarray against my cousin, who hates him, and the matter stands thus----"
"How often have I told you both to let the friars manage their ownaffairs? It is enough for those to whom it belongs--but you, you canavoid having any thing to do with them----"
"Signor uncle, it is my duty to inform you that Roderick would haveavoided it, if it had been possible. It is the friar who has quarrelledwith him, and he has used every means----"
"What the devil can the friar have in common with my nephew?"
"First of all, he is known to be a quarrelsome fellow; he protects apeasant girl of the village, and regards her with a benevolence, to saythe least of it, very suspicious."
"I comprehend," said his uncle; and a ray of malice passed over thedepth of dulness which nature had stamped on his countenance.
"For some time," continued Attilio, "the friar has suspected Roderick ofdesigns on this young girl----"
"_He_ has suspected, indeed! I know the signor Roderick too well myself,not to need to be told that he is incorrigible in such matters!"
"That Roderick, signor uncle, may have had some trifling conversationwith this girl, I can very well believe; he is young, and, moreover, nota capuchin,--but these are idle tales, not worth engaging yourattention. The serious part of the affair is, that the friar speaks ofRoderick as if he were a villain, and instigates all the country againsthim----"
"And the other friars?"
"They do not meddle with it, because they know him to be hot-headed,though they have great respect for Roderick; but then, on the otherhand, the friar passes for a saint with the villagers, and----"
"I imagine he does not know Roderick is my nephew."
"Does he not know it? it is that, precisely, which animates him to thiscourse of conduct."
"How? how?"
"He takes pleasure, and he tells it to every one, he takes the morepleasure in vexing Roderick, because he has a protector as powerful asyour lordship; he laughs at the nobility, and at diplomatists, andexults at the thought, that the girdle of Saint Francis can tie up allthe swords, and that----"
"Oh! the presumptuous man! what is his name?"
"Friar Christopher, of ***," said Attilio. The count drew his portfoliotowards him, and inscribed the name.
Meanwhile, Attilio proceeded: "He has always had this character; hislife is well known; he was a plebeian, and having some wealth, wished toassociate with gentlemen, and not being able to succeed, killed one ofthem for rage; and to escape the gallows he assumed the habit of afriar."
"Bravo! well done! we will see, we will see," said the count in a fume.
"Now," continued Attilio, "he is more enraged than ever, because he hasfailed in a project he had much at heart. It is by this that yourlordship can see what kind of a man he is. He wished to have this girlmarried, to remove her from the dangers of the world, you understand;and he had found his man, a fellow whose name you have doubtless heard,because I have understood that the secret council has been obliged totake notice of the worthy youth."
"Who is he?"
"A silk weaver, Lorenzo Tramaglino, he who----"
"Lorenzo Tramaglino!" cried the count. "Well done, friar! Truly--now Iremember--he had a letter for a--it is a pity that--but no matter. Andpray, why did Don Roderick say nothing of all this? why did he sufferthings to go so far, before he acquainted one who has the power and thewill to support him?"
"I will tell you also the truth with respect to that: knowing themultitude of cases which you have to perplex you, he has not beenwilling to add to them; and, besides, since I must say it, he is besidehimself on account of the insults offered him by the friar, and wouldwish to wreak summary justice on him himself, rather than obtain it fromprudence and the power of your lordship. I have tried to cool hisardour, but finding it impossible, I thought it my duty to inform yourlordship, who, after all, is the prop and chief column of the house."
"You ought to have spoken sooner."
"That is true. But I hoped the affair would finish of itself, or thatthe friar would regain his reason, or that he would leave the convent,as often happens to these friars, who are sometimes here, sometimesthere; and then all would have been settled. But----"
"The arrangement of the business now rests with me."
"That is what I thought; I said to myself, the signor our uncle is theonly one who can save the honour of Don Roderick; he has a thousandmeans that I know not of: I know that the father provincial has a greatrespect for him, and if our uncle should think that the best thing forthis friar would be a change of air, he can in a few words----"
"Will your lordship leave the care of the business to him to whom itappertains?" said the count, sharply.
"Ah! that is true," cried Attilio; "am I the man to give advice to yourlordship? But the regard I have for the honour of the family made mespeak. And I am afraid I have committed another folly," added he,affecting a pensive air: "I am afraid I have injured Don Roderick inyour opinion; I should have no rest if you doubted Roderick's confidencein you, and submission to your will. I hope the signor our uncle willbelieve, that in this case, it is truly----"
"Well, well, you two will be always friends, until one of you becomeprudent. Ever in fault, and relying on me to repair it! You give me moretrouble than all the affairs of state!" continued he, with an expressionof grave importance.
Attilio proffered a few more excuses, promises, and compliments, andtook his leave, with a parting injunction from his uncle _to beprudent_!