CHAPTER FIFTY.
TESSA ABROAD AND AT HOME.
Another figure easily recognised by us--a figure not clad in black, butin the old red, green, and white--was approaching the Piazza thatmorning to see the Carnival. She came from an opposite point, for Tessano longer lived on the hill of San Giorgio. After what had happenedthere with Baldassarre, Tito had thought it best for that and otherreasons to find her a new home, but still in a quiet airy quarter, in ahouse bordering on the wide garden grounds north of the Porta SantaCroce.
Tessa was not come out sight-seeing without special leave. Tito hadbeen with her the evening before, and she had kept back the entreatywhich she felt to be swelling her heart and throat until she saw him ina state of radiant ease, with one arm round the sturdy Lillo, and theother resting gently on her own shoulder as she tried to make the tinyNinna steady on her legs. She was sure then that the weariness withwhich he had come in and flung himself into his chair had quite meltedaway from his brow and lips. Tessa had not been slow at learning a fewsmall stratagems by which she might avoid vexing Naldo and yet have alittle of her own way. She could read nothing else, but she had learnedto read a good deal in her husband's face.
And certainly the charm of that bright, gentle-humoured Tito who woke upunder the Loggia de' Cerchi on a Lenten morning five years before, nothaving yet given any hostages to deceit, never returned so nearly as inthe person of Naldo, seated in that straight-backed, carved arm-chairwhich he had provided for his comfort when he came to see Tessa and thechildren. Tito himself was surprised at the growing sense of reliefwhich he felt in these moments. No guile was needed towards Tessa: shewas too ignorant and too innocent to suspect him of anything. And thelittle voices calling him "Babbo" were very sweet in his ears for theshort while that he heard them. When he thought of leaving Florence, henever thought of leaving Tessa and the little ones behind. He was veryfond of these round-cheeked, wide-eyed human things that clung about himand knew no evil of him. And wherever affection can spring, it is likethe green leaf and the blossom--pure, and breathing purity, whateversoil it may grow in. Poor Romola, with all her self-sacrificing effort,was really helping to harden Tito's nature by chilling it with apositive dislike which had beforehand seemed impossible in him; butTessa kept open the fountains of kindness.
"Ninna is very good without me now," began Tessa, feeling her requestrising very high in her throat, and letting Ninna seat herself on thefloor. "I can leave her with Monna Lisa any time, and if she is in thecradle and cries, Lillo is as sensible as can be--he goes and thumpsMonna Lisa."
Lillo, whose great dark eyes looked all the darker because his curlswere of a light-brown like his mother's, jumped off Babbo's knee, andwent forthwith to attest his intelligence by thumping Monna Lisa, whowas shaking her head slowly over her spinning at the other end of theroom. "A wonderful boy!" said Tito, laughing. "Isn't he?" said Tessa,eagerly, getting a little closer to him; "and I might go and see theCarnival to-morrow, just for an hour or two, mightn't I?"
"Oh, you wicked pigeon!" said Tito, pinching her cheek; "those are yourlongings, are they? What have you to do with carnivals now you are anold woman with two children?"
"But old women like to see things," said Tessa, her lower lip hanging alittle. "Monna Lisa said she should like to go, only she's so deaf shecan't hear what is behind her, and she thinks we couldn't take care ofboth the children."
"No, indeed, Tessa," said Tito, looking rather grave, "you must notthink of taking the children into the crowded streets, else I shall beangry."
"But I have never been into the Piazza without leave," said Tessa, in afrightened, pleading tone, "since the Holy Saturday, and I think Nofriis dead, for you know the poor _madre_ died; and I shall never forgetthe Carnival I saw once; it was so pretty--all roses and a king andqueen under them--and singing. I liked it better than the SanGiovanni."
"But there's nothing like that now, my Tessa. They are going to make abonfire in the Piazza--that's all. But I cannot let you go out byyourself in the evening."
"Oh no, no! I don't want to go in the evening. I only want to go andsee the procession by daylight. There _will_ be a procession--is it nottrue?"
"Yes, after a sort," said Tito, "as lively as a flight of cranes. Youmust not expect roses and glittering kings and queens, my Tessa.However, I suppose any string of people to be called a procession willplease your blue eyes. And there's a thing they have raised in thePiazza de' Signori for the bonfire. You may like to see that. But comehome early, and look like a grave little old woman; and if you see anymen with feathers and swords, keep out of their way: they are veryfierce, and like to cut old women's heads off."
"Santa Madonna! where do they come from? Ah! you are laughing; it isnot so bad. But I will keep away from them. Only," Tessa went on in awhisper, putting her lips near Naldo's ear, "if I might take Lillo withme! He is very sensible."
"But who will thump Monna Lisa then, if she doesn't hear?" said Tito,finding it difficult not to laugh, but thinking it necessary to lookserious. "No, Tessa, you could not take care of Lillo if you got into acrowd, and he's too heavy for you to carry him."
"It is true," said Tessa, rather sadly, "and he likes to run away. Iforgot that. Then I will go alone. But now look at Ninna--you have notlooked at her enough."
Ninna was a blue-eyed thing, at the tottering, tumbling age--a fairsolid, which, like a loaded die, found its base with a constancy thatwarranted prediction. Tessa went to snatch her up, and when Babbo waspaying due attention to the recent teeth and other marvels, she said, ina whisper, "And shall I buy some confetti for the children?"
Tito drew some small coins from his scarsella, and poured them into herpalm.
"That will buy no end," said Tessa, delighted at this abundance. "Ishall not mind going without Lillo so much, if I bring him something."
So Tessa set out in the morning towards the great Piazza where thebonfire was to be. She did not think the February breeze cold enough todemand further covering than her green woollen dress. A mantle wouldhave been oppressive, for it would have hidden a new necklace and a newclasp, mounted with silver, the only ornamental presents Tito had evermade her. Tessa did not think at all of showing her figure, for no onehad ever told her it was pretty; but she was quite sure that hernecklace and clasp were of the prettiest sort ever worn by the richestcontadina, and she arranged her white hood over her head so that thefront of her necklace might be well displayed. These ornaments, sheconsidered, must inspire respect for her as the wife of some one whocould afford to buy them.
She tripped along very cheerily in the February sunshine, thinking muchof the purchases for the little ones, with which she was to fill hersmall basket, and not thinking at all of any one who might be observingher. Yet her descent from her upper storey into the street had beenwatched, and she was being kept in sight as she walked by a person whohad often waited in vain to see if it were not Tessa who lived in thathouse to which he had more than once dogged Tito. Baldassarre wascarrying a package of yarn: he was constantly employed in that way, as ameans of earning his scanty bread, and keeping the sacred fire ofvengeance alive; and he had come out of his way this morning, as he hadoften done before, that he might pass by the house to which he hadfollowed Tito in the evening. His long imprisonment had so intensifiedhis timid suspicion and his belief in some diabolic fortune favouringTito, that he had not dared to pursue him, except under cover of a crowdor of the darkness; he felt, with instinctive horror, that if Tito'seyes fell upon him, he should again be held up to obloquy, again bedragged away his weapon would be taken from him, and he should be casthelpless into a prison-cell. His fierce purpose had become as stealthyas a serpent's, which depends for its prey on one dart of the fang.Justice was weak and unfriended; and he could not hear again the voicethat pealed the promise of vengeance in the Duomo; he had been thereagain and again, but that voice, too, had apparently been stifled bycunning strong-armed wickedness. For a long while, Baldassarre's
rulingthought was to ascertain whether Tito still wore the armour, for now atlast his fainting hope would have been contented with a successful stabon this side the grave; but he would never risk his precious knifeagain. It was a weary time he had had to wait for the chance ofanswering this question by touching Tito's back in the press of thestreet. Since then, the knowledge that the sharp steel was useless, andthat he had no hope but in some new device, had fallen with leadenweight on his enfeebled mind. A dim vision of winning one of those twowives to aid him came before him continually, and continually slid away.The wife who had lived on the hill was no longer there. If he couldfind her again, he might grasp some thread of a project, and work hisway to more clearness.
And this morning he had succeeded. He was quite certain now where thiswife lived, and as he walked, bent a little under his burden of yarn,yet keeping the green and white figure in sight, his mind was dwellingupon her and her circumstances as feeble eyes dwell on lines andcolours, trying to interpret them into consistent significance.
Tessa had to pass through various long streets without seeing any othersign of the Carnival than unusual groups of the country people in theirbest garments, and that disposition in everybody to chat and loiterwhich marks the early hours of a holiday, before the spectacle hasbegun. Presently, in her disappointed search for remarkable objects,her eyes fell on a man with a pedlar's basket before him, who seemed tobe selling nothing but little red crosses to all the passengers. Alittle red cross would be pretty to hang up over her bed; it would alsohelp to keep off harm, and would perhaps make Ninna stronger. Tessawent to the other side of the street that she might ask the pedlar theprice of the crosses, fearing that they would cost a little too much forher to spare from her purchase of sweets. The pedlar's back had beenturned towards her hitherto, but when she came near him she recognisedan old acquaintance of the Mercato, Bratti Ferravecchi, and, accustomedto feel that she was to avoid old acquaintances, she turned away againand passed to the other side of the street. But Bratti's eye was toowell practised in looking out at the corner after possible customers,for her movement to have escaped him, and she was presently arrested bya tap on the arm from one of the red crosses.
"Young woman," said Bratti, as she unwillingly turned her head, "youcome from some castello a good way off, it seems to me, else you'd neverthink of walking about, this blessed Carnival, without a red cross inyour hand. Santa Madonna! Four white quattrini is a small price to payfor your soul--prices rise in purgatory, let me tell you."
"Oh, I should like one," said Tessa, hastily, "but I couldn't spare fourwhite quattrini."
Bratti had at first regarded Tessa too abstractedly as a mere customerto look at her with any scrutiny, but when she began to speak heexclaimed, "By the head of San Giovanni, it must be the little Tessa,and looking as fresh as a ripe apple! What! you've done none the worse,then, for running away from father Nofri? You were in the right of it,for he goes on crutches now, and a crabbed fellow with crutches isdangerous; he can reach across the house and beat a woman as he sits."
"I'm married," said Tessa, rather demurely, remembering Naldo's commandthat she should behave with gravity; "and my husband takes great care ofme."
"Ah, then, you've fallen on your feet! Nofri said you weregood-for-nothing vermin; but what then? An ass may bray a good whilebefore he shakes the stars down. I always said you did well to runaway, and it isn't often Bratti's in the wrong. Well, and so you've gota husband and plenty of money? Then you'll never think much of givingfour white quattrini for a red cross. I get no profit; but what withthe famine and the new religion, all other merchandise is gone down.You live in the country where the chestnuts are plenty, eh? You'venever wanted for polenta, I can see."
"No, I've never wanted anything," said Tessa, still on her guard.
"Then you can afford to buy a cross. I got a Padre to bless them, andyou get blessing and all for four quattrini. It isn't for the profit; Ihardly get a danaro by the whole lot. But then they're holy wares, andit's getting harder and harder work to see your way to Paradise: thevery Carnival is like Holy Week, and the least you can do to keep theDevil from getting the upper hand is to buy a cross. God guard you!think what the Devil's tooth is! You've seen him biting the man in SanGiovanni, I should hope?"
Tessa felt much teased and frightened. "Oh, Bratti," she said, with adiscomposed face, "I want to buy a great many confetti: I've got littleLillo and Ninna at home. And nice coloured sweet things cost a greatdeal. And they will not like the cross so well, though I know it wouldbe good to have it."
"Come, then," said Bratti, fond of laying up a store of merits byimagining possible extortions and then heroically renouncing them,"since you're an old acquaintance, you shall have it for two quattrini.It's making you a present of the cross, to say nothing of the blessing."
Tessa was reaching out her two quattrini with trembling hesitation, whenBratti said abruptly, "Stop a bit! Where do you live?"
"Oh, a long way off," she answered, almost automatically, beingpreoccupied with her quattrini; "beyond San Ambrogio, in the ViaPiccola, at the top of the house where the wood is stacked below."
"Very good," said Bratti, in a patronising tone; "then I'll let you havethe cross on trust, and call for the money. So you live inside thegates? Well, well, I shall be passing."
"No, no!" said Tessa, frightened lest Naldo should be angry at thisrevival of an old acquaintance. "I can spare the money. Take it now."
"No," said Bratti, resolutely; "I'm not a hard-hearted pedlar. I'llcall and see if you've got any rags, and you shall make a bargain. See,here's the cross: and there's Pippo's shop not far behind you: you cango and fill your basket, and I must go and get mine empty. _Addio,piccina_."
Bratti went on his way, and Tessa, stimulated to change her money intoconfetti before further accident, went into Pippo's shop, a littlefluttered by the thought that she had let Bratti know more about herthan her husband would approve. There were certainly more dangers incoming to see the Carnival than in staying at home; and she would havefelt this more strongly if she had known that the wicked old man, whohad wanted to kill her husband on the hill, was still keeping her insight. But she had not noticed the man with the burden on his back.
The consciousness of having a small basketful of things to make thechildren glad, dispersed her anxiety, and as she entered the Via de'Libraj her face had its visual expression of childlike content. And nowshe thought there was really a procession coming, for she saw whiterobes and a banner, and her heart began to palpitate with expectation.She stood a little aside, but in that narrow street there was thepleasure of being obliged to look very close. The banner was pretty: itwas the Holy Mother with the Babe, whose love for her Tessa had believedin more and more since she had had her babies; and the figures in whitehad not only green wreaths on their heads, but little red crosses bytheir side, which caused her some satisfaction that she also had her redcross. Certainly, they looked as beautiful as the angels on the clouds,and to Tessa's mind they too had a background of cloud, like everythingelse that came to her in life. How and whence did they come? She didnot mind much about knowing. But one thing surprised her as newer thanwreaths and crosses; it was that some of the white figures carriedbaskets between them. What could the baskets be for?
But now they were very near, and, to her astonishment, they wheeledaside and came straight up to her. She trembled as she would have doneif Saint Michael in the picture had shaken his head at her, and wasconscious of nothing but terrified wonder till she saw close to her around boyish face, lower than her own, and heard a treble voice saying,"Sister, you carry the Anathema about you. Yield it up to the blessedGesu, and He will adorn you with the gems of His grace."
Tessa was only more frightened, understanding nothing. Her firstconjecture settled on her basket of sweets. They wanted that, thesealarming angels. Oh dear, dear! She looked down at it.
"No, sister," said a taller youth, pointing to her necklace and theclasp
of her belt, "it is those vanities that are the Anathema. Takeoff that necklace and unclasp that belt, that they may be burned in theholy Bonfire of Vanities, and save _you_ from burning."
"It is the truth, my sister," said a still taller youth, evidently thearchangel of this band. "Listen to these voices speaking the divinemessage. You already carry a red cross: let that be your onlyadornment. Yield up your necklace and belt, and you shall obtaingrace."
This was too much. Tessa, overcome with awe, dared not say "no," butshe was equally unable to render up her beloved necklace and clasp. Herpouting lips were quivering, the tears rushed to her eyes, and a greatdrop fell. For a moment she ceased to see anything; she felt nothingbut confused terror and misery. Suddenly a gentle hand was laid on herarm, and a soft, wonderful voice, as if the Holy Madonna were speaking,said, "Do not be afraid; no one shall harm you."
Tessa looked up and saw a lady in black, with a young heavenly face andloving hazel eyes. She had never seen any one like this lady before,and under other circumstances might have had awestruck thoughts abouther; but now everything else was overcome by the sense that lovingprotection was near her. The tears only fell the faster, relieving herswelling heart, as she looked up at the heavenly face, and, putting herhand to her necklace, said sobbingly--
"I can't give them to be burnt. My husband--he bought them for me--andthey are so pretty--and Ninna--oh, I wish I'd never come!"
"Do not ask her for them," said Romola, speaking to the white-robed boysin a tone of mild authority. "It answers no good end for people to giveup such things against their will. That is not what Fra Girolamoapproves: he would have such things given up freely."
Madonna Romola's word was not to be resisted, and the white train movedon. They even moved with haste, as if some new object had caught theireyes; and Tessa felt with bliss that they were gone, and that hernecklace and clasp were still with her.
"Oh, I will go back to the house," she said, still agitated; "I will gonowhere else. But if I should meet them again, and you not be there?"she added, expecting everything from this heavenly lady.
"Stay a little," said Romola. "Come with me under this doorway, and wewill hide the necklace and clasp, and then you will be in no danger."
She led Tessa under the archway, and said, "Now, can we find room foryour necklace and belt in your basket? Ah! your basket is full of crispthings that will break: let us be careful, and lay the heavy necklaceunder them."
It was like a change in a dream to Tessa--the escape from nightmare intofloating safety and joy--to find herself taken care of by this lady, solovely, and powerful, and gentle. She let Romola unfasten her necklaceand clasp, while she herself did nothing but look up at the face thatbent over her.
"They are sweets for Lillo and Ninna," she said, as Romola carefullylifted up the light parcels in the basket, and placed the ornamentsbelow them.
"Those are your children?" said Romola, smiling. "And you would rathergo home to them than see any more of the Carnival? Else you have notfar to go to the Piazza de' Signori, and there you would see the pilefor the great bonfire."
"No, oh no!" said Tessa, eagerly; "I shall never like bonfires again. Iwill go back."
"You live at some castello, doubtless," said Romola, not waiting for ananswer. "Towards which gate do you go?"
"Towards Por' Santa Croce."
"Come, then," said Romola, taking her by the hand and leading her to thecorner of a street nearly opposite. "If you go down there," she said,pausing, "you will soon be in a straight road. And I must leave younow, because some one else expects me. You will not be frightened.Your pretty things are quite safe now. Addio."
"Addio, Madonna," said Tessa, almost in a whisper, not knowing what elseit would be right to say; and in an instant the heavenly lady was gone.Tessa turned to catch a last glimpse, but she only saw the tall glidingfigure vanish round the projecting stonework. So she went on her way inwonder, longing to be once more safely housed with Monna Lisa,undesirous of carnivals for evermore.
Baldassarre had kept Tessa in sight till the moment of her parting withRomola: then he went away with his bundle of yarn. It seemed to himthat he had discerned a clue which might guide him if he could onlygrasp the necessary details firmly enough. He had seen the two wivestogether, and the sight had brought to his conceptions that vividnesswhich had been wanting before. His power of imagining facts needed tobe reinforced continually by the senses. The tall wife was the nobleand rightful wife; she had the blood in her that would be readilykindled to resentment; she would know what scholarship was, and how itmight lie locked in by the obstructions of the stricken body, like atreasure buried by earthquake. She could believe him: she would be_inclined_ to believe him, if he proved to her that her husband wasunfaithful. Women cared about that: they would take vengeance for that.If this wife of Tito's loved him, she would have a sense of injurywhich Baldassarre's mind dwelt on with keen longing, as if it would bethe strength of another Will added to his own, the strength of anothermind to form devices.
Both these wives had been kind to Baldassarre, and their acts towardshim, being bound up with the very image of them, had not vanished fromhis memory; yet the thought of their pain could not present itself tohim as a check. To him it seemed that pain was the order of the worldfor all except the hard and base. If any were innocent, if any werenoble, where could the utmost gladness lie for them? Where it lay forhim--in unconquerable hatred and triumphant vengeance. But he must becautious: he must watch this wife in the Via de' Bardi, and learn moreof her; for even here frustration was possible. There was no power forhim now but in patience.