CHAPTER XXXVI
A FRESH ENTANGLEMENT
The Lenkenstein ladies returned to Milan proudly in the path of thearmy which they had followed along the city walls on the black Marchmidnight. The ladies of the Austrian aristocracy generally had to beexiles from Vienna, and were glad to flock together even in an aliencity. Anna and Lena were aware of Vittoria's residence in Milan, throughthe interchange of visits between the Countess of Lenkenstein and hersister Signora Piaveni. They heard also of Vittoria's prospective andapproaching marriage to Count Ammiani. The Duchess of Graatli, who hadforborne a visit to her unhappy friends, lest her Austrian face shouldwound their sensitiveness, was in company with the Lenkensteins one day,when Irma di Karski called on them. Irma had come from LagoMaggiore, where she had left her patron, as she was pleased to termAntonio-Pericles. She was full of chatter of that most worthy man'sdeplorable experiences of Vittoria's behaviour to him during the war,and of many things besides. According to her account, Vittoria hadenticed him from place to place with promises that the next day, and thenext day, and the day after, she would be ready to keep her engagementto go to London, and at last she had given him the slip and left him tobe plucked like a pullet by a horde of volunteer banditti, out of whosehands Antonio-Pericles-"one of our richest millionaires in Europe,certainly our richest amateur," said Irma--escaped in fit outwardcondition for the garden of Eden.
Count Karl was lying on the sofa, and went into endless invalid'slaughter at the picture presented by Irma of the 'wild man' wanderingsof poor infatuated Pericles, which was exaggerated, though notintentionally, for Irma repeated the words and gestures of Pericles inthe recital of his tribulations. Being of a somewhat similar physicalorganization, she did it very laughably. Irma declared that Pericles wascured of his infatuation. He had got to Turin, intending to quit Italyfor ever, when--"he met me," said Irma modestly.
"And heard that the war was at an end," Count Karl added.
"And he has taken the superb Villa Ricciardi, on Lago Maggiore, where hewill have a troupe of singers, and perform operas, in which I believeI may possibly act as prima donna. The truth is, I would do anything toprevent him from leaving the country."
But Irma had more to say; with "I bear no malice," she commenced it. Thestory she had heard was that Count Ammiani, after plighting himself toa certain signorina, known as Vittoria Campa, had received tidings thatshe was one of those persons who bring discredit on Irma's profession."Gifted by nature, I can acknowledge," said Irma; "but devoured byvanity--a perfect slave to the appetite for praise; ready to forfeitanything for flattery! Poor signor Antonio-Pericles!--he knows her." Andnow Count Ammiani, persuaded to reason by his mother, had given her up.There was nothing more positive, for Irma had seen him in the society ofCountess Violetta d'Isorella.
Anna and Lena glanced at their brother Karl.
"I should not allude to what is not notorious," Irma pursued. "Theyare always together. My dear Antonio-Pericles is most amusing in hisexpressions of delight at it. For my part, though she served me an evilturn once,--you will hardly believe, ladies, that in her jealousy of meshe was guilty of the most shameful machinations to get me out of theway on the night of the first performance of Camilla,--but, for my part,I bear no malice. The creature is an inveterate rebel, and I dislike herfor that, I do confess."
"The signorina Vittoria Campa is my particular and very dear friend,"said the duchess.
"She is not the less an inveterate rebel," said Anna.
Count Karl gave a long-drawn sigh. "Alas, that she should have broughtdiscredit on Fraulein di Karski's profession!"
The duchess hurried straightway to Laura, with whom was CountSerabiglione, reviewing the present posture of affairs from thecondescending altitudes of one that has foretold it. Laura and Amaliaembraced and went apart. During their absence Vittoria came down tothe count and listened to a familiar illustration of his theory of therelations which should exist between Italy and Austria, derived from thefriendship of those two women.
"What I wish you to see, signorina, is that such an alliance ispossible; and, if we supply the brains, as we do, is by no means likelyto be degrading. These bears are absolutely on their knees to us forgood fellowship. You have influence, you have amazing wit, you haveunparalleled beauty, and, let me say it with the utmost sadness, youhave now had experience. Why will you not recognize facts? Italianunity! I have exposed the fatuity--who listens? Italian freedom! I donot attempt to reason with my daughter. She is pricked by an envenomedfly of Satan. Yet, behold her and the duchess! It is the very union Ipreach; and I am, I declare to you, signorina, in great danger. I feelit, but I persist. I am in danger" (Count Serabiglione bowed his headlow) "of the transcendent sin of scorn of my species."
The little nobleman swayed deploringly in his chair. "Nothing is soperilous for a soul's salvation as that. The one sane among madmen! Theone whose reason is left to him among thousands who have forsaken it! Ibeg you to realize the idea. The Emperor, as I am given to understand,is about to make public admission of my services. I shall be all themore hated. Yet it is a considerable gain. I do not deny that I esteemit as a promotion for my services. I shall not be the first martyr inthis world, signorina."
Count Serabiglione produced a martyr's smile.
"The profits of my expected posts will be," he was saying, with areckoning eye cast upward into his cranium for accuracy, when Laurareturned, and Vittoria ran out to the duchess. Amalia repeated Irma'stattle. A curious little twitching of the brows at Violetta d'Isorella'sname marked the reception of it.
"She is most lovely," Vittoria said.
"And absolutely reckless."
"She is an old friend of Count Ammiani's."
"And you have an old friend here. But the old friend of a young woman--Ineed not say further than that it is different."
The duchess used the privilege of her affection, and urged Vittoria notto trifle with her lover's impatience.
Admitted to the chamber where Merthyr lay, she was enabled to makeallowance for her irresolution. The face of the wounded man was like alake-water taking light from Vittoria's presence.
"This may go on for weeks," she said to Laura.
Three days later, Vittoria received an order from the Government to quitthe city within a prescribed number of hours, and her brain was rackedto discover why Laura appeared so little indignant at the barbarousact of despotism. Laura undertook to break the bad news to Merthyr. Theparting was as quiet and cheerful as, in the opposite degree, Vittoriahad thought it would be melancholy and regretful. "What a Government!"Merthyr said, and told her to let him hear of any changes. "All changesthat please my friends please me."
Vittoria kissed his forehead with one grateful murmur of farewell to thebravest heart she had ever known. The going to her happiness seemed morelike going to something fatal until she reached the Lago Maggiore. Thereshe saw September beauty, and felt as if the splendour encircling herwere her bridal decoration. But no bridegroom stood to greet her onthe terrace-steps between the potted orange and citron-trees. CountessAmmiani extended kind hands to her at arms' length.
"You have come," she said. "I hope that it is not too late."
Vittoria was a week without sight of her lover: nor did Countess Ammianiattempt to explain her words, or speak of other than common dailythings. In body and soul Vittoria had taken a chill. The silent blameresting on her in this house called up her pride, so that she would notask any questions; and when Carlo came, she wanted warmth to melt her.Their meeting was that of two passionless creatures. Carlo kissed herloyally, and courteously inquired after her health and the health offriends in Milan, and then he rallied his mother. Agostino had arrivedwith him, and the old man, being in one of his soft moods, unvexed byhis conceits, Vittoria had some comfort from him of a dull kind. Sheheard Carlo telling his mother that he must go in the morning. Agostinoreplied to her quick look at him, "I stay;" and it seemed like a littlesaved from the wreck, for she knew that she could speak to Agostino asshe could n
ot to the countess. When his mother prepared to retire,Carlo walked over to his bride, and repeated rapidly and brightly hisinquiries after friends in Milan. She, with a pure response to hisnatural-unnatural manner, spoke of Merthyr Powys chiefly: to whichhe said several times, "Dear fellow!" and added, "I shall always loveEnglishmen for his sake."
This gave her one throb. "I could not leave him, Carlo."
"Certainly not, certainly not," said Carlo. "I should have been happy towait on him myself. I was busy; I am still. I dare say you have guessedthat I have a new journal in my head: the Pallanza Iris is to bethe name of it;--to be printed in three colours, to advocate threeprinciples, in three styles. The Legitimists, the Moderates, and theRepublicans are to proclaim themselves in its columns in prose, poetry,and hotch-potch. Once an editor, always an editor. The authoritiessuspect that something of the sort is about to be planted, so I can onlymake occasional visits here:--therefore, as you will believe,"--Carlolet his voice fall--"I have good reason to hate them still. They maycease to persecute me soon."
He insisted upon lighting his mother to her room. Vittoria and Agostinosat talking of the Chief and the minor events of the war--of Luciano,Marco, Giulio, and Ugo Corte--till the conviction fastened on themthat Carlo would not return, when Agostino stood up and said, yawningwearily, "I'll talk further to you, my child, tomorrow."
She begged that it might be now.
"No; to-morrow," said he.
"Now, now!" she reiterated, and brought down a reproof from hisfore-finger.
"The poetic definition of 'now' is that it is a small boat, my daughter,in which the female heart is constantly pushing out to sea and sinking.'To-morrow' is an island in the deeps, where grain grows. When I landyou there, I will talk to you."
She knew that he went to join Carlo after he had quitted her.
Agostino was true to his promise next day. He brought her nearer to whatshe had to face, though he did not help her vision much. Carlo had gonebefore sunrise.
They sat on the terrace above the lake, screened from the sunlight bythick myrtle bushes. Agostino smoked his loosely-rolled cigarettes, andVittoria sipped chocolate and looked upward to the summit of Motterone,with many thoughts and images in her mind.
He commenced by giving her a love-message from Carlo. "Hold fast to itthat he means it: conduct is never a straight index where the heart'sinvolved," said the chuckling old man; "or it is not in times like ours.You have been in the wrong, and your having a good excuse will not helpyou before the deciding fates. Woman that you are! did you not thinkthat because we were beaten we were going to rest for a very long while,and that your Carlo of yesterday was going to be your Carlo of to-day?"
Vittoria tacitly confessed to it.
"Ay," he pursued, "when you wrote to him in the Val d'Intelvi, yousupposed you had only to say, 'I am ready,' which was then the case. Youmade your summer and left the fruits to hang, and now you are astoundedthat seasons pass and fruits drop. You should have come to this place,if but for a pair of days, and so have fixed one matter in the chapter.This is how the chapter has run on. I see I talk to a stunned head; youare thinking that Carlo's love for you can't have changed: and it hasnot, but occasion has gone and times have changed. Now listen. Thecountess desired the marriage. Carlo could not go to you in Milan withthe sword in his hand. Therefore you had to come to him. He waited foryou, perhaps for his own preposterous lover's sake as much as to makehis mother's heart easy. If she loses him she loses everything, unlesshe leaves a wife to her care and the hope that her House will not beextinct, which is possibly not much more the weakness of old aristocracythan of human nature.
"Meantime, his brothers in arms had broken up and entered Piedmont,and he remained waiting for you still. You are thinking that he hadnot waited a month. But if four months finished Lombardy, less than onemonth is quite sufficient to do the same for us little beings. He metthe Countess d'Isorella here. You have to thank her for seeing him atall, so don't wrinkle your forehead yet. Luciano Romara is drillinghis men in Piedmont; Angelo Guidascarpi has gone there. Carlo wasconsidering it his duty to join Luciano, when he met this lady, and shehas apparently succeeded in altering his plans. Luciano and his bandwill go to Rome. Carlo fancies that another blow will be struck forLombardy. This lady should know; the point is, whether she can betrusted. She persists in declaring that Carlo's duty is to remain,and--I cannot tell how, for I am as a child among women--she haspersuaded him of her sincerity. Favour me now with your clearestunderstanding, and deliver it from feminine sensations of anydescription for just two minutes."
Agostino threw away the end of a cigarette and looked for firmness inVittoria's eyes.
"This Countess d'Isorella is opposed to Carlo's marriage at present. Shesays that she is betraying the king's secrets, and has no reliance ona woman. As a woman you will pardon her, for it is the language of yoursex. You are also denounced by Barto Rizzo, a madman--he went mad asfire, and had to be chained at Varese. In some way or other Countessd'Isorella got possession of him; she has managed to subdue him. Asword-cut he received once in Verona has undoubtedly affected his brain,or caused it to be affected under strong excitement. He is at her villa,and she says--perhaps with some truth--that Carlo would in several wayslose his influence by his immediate marriage with you. The reason musthave weight; otherwise he would fulfil his mother's principal request,and be at the bidding of his own desire. There; I hope I have spokenplainly."
Agostino puffed a sigh of relief at the conclusion of his task.
Vittoria had been too strenuously engaged in defending the steadiness ofher own eyes to notice the shadow of an assumption of frankness in his.
She said that she understood.
She got away to her room like an insect carrying a load thrice its ownsize. All that she could really gather from Agostino's words was, thatshe felt herself rocking in a tower, and that Violetta d'Isorella wasbeautiful. She had striven hard to listen to him with her wits alone,and her sensations subsequently revenged themselves in this fashion. Thetower rocked and struck a bell that she discovered to be her betrayingvoice uttering cries of pain. She was for hours incapable of meetingAgostino again. His delicate intuition took the harshness off themeeting. He led her even to examine her state of mind, and to discernthe fancies from the feelings by which she was agitated. He saidshrewdly and bluntly, "You can master pain, but not doubt. If you showa sign of unhappiness, remember that I shall know you doubt both what Ihave told you, and Carlo as well."
Vittoria fenced: "But is there such a thing as happiness?"
"I should imagine so," said Agostino, touching her cheek, "andslipperiness likewise. There's patience at any rate; only you must digfor it. You arrive at nothing, but the eternal digging constitutes theobject gained. I recollect when I was a raw lad, full of ambition, inlove, and without a franc in my pockets, one night in Paris, I foundmyself looking up at a street lamp; there was a moth in it. He couldn'tget out, so he had very little to trouble his conscience. I think he wasnear happiness: he ought to have been happy. My luck was not so good, oryou wouldn't see me still alive, my dear."
Vittoria sighed for a plainer speaker.