CHAPTER XLI
THE INTERVIEW
Merthyr saw Laura first. He thought that Vittoria must be lying on hercouch: but Laura simply figured her arm in a sling, and signified, morethan said, that Vittoria was well and taking the air. She then beggedhungrily for news of Rome, and again of Rome, and sat with her handsclasped in her lap to listen. She mentioned Venice in a short breath ofpraise, as if her spirit could not repose there. Rome, its hospitals,its municipal arrangements, the names of the triumvirs, the prospects ofthe city, the edicts, the aspects of the streets, the popularity ofthe Government, the number of volunteers ranked under the magicalRepublic--of these things Merthyr talked, at her continual instigation,till, stopping abruptly, he asked her if she wished to divert him fromany painful subject. "No, no!" she cried, "it's only that I want to feelan anchor. We are all adrift. Sandra is in perfect health. Our bodies,dear Merthyr, are enjoying the perfection of comfort. Nothing is donehere except to keep us from boiling over."
"Why does not Count Ammiani come to Rome?" said Merthyr.
"Why are we not all in Rome? Yes, why! why! We should make a carnival ofour own if we were."
"She would have escaped that horrible knife," Merthyr sighed.
"Yes, she would have escaped that horrible knife. But see the differencebetween Milan and Rome, my friend! It was a blessed knife here. It hasgiven her husband back to her; it has destroyed the intrigues againsther. It seems to have been sent--I was kneeling in the cathedral thismorning, and had the very image crossing my eyes--from the saints ofheaven to cut the black knot. Perhaps it may be the means of sending usto Rome."
Laura paused, and, looking at him, said, "It is so utterly impossiblefor us women to comprehend love without folly in a man; the trait bywhich we recognize it! Merthyr, you dear Englishman, you shall knoweverything. Do we not think a tisane a weak washy drink, when we arestrong? But we learn, when we lie with our chins up, and our ten toeslike stopped organ-pipes--as Sandra says--we learn then that it meansfresh health and activity, and is better than rivers of your fierywines. You love her, do you not?"
The question came with great simplicity.
"If I can give a proof of it, I am ready to answer," said Merthyr, insome surprise.
"Your whole life is the proof of it. The women of your country areintolerable to me, Merthyr: but I do see the worth of the men. Sandrahas taught me. She can think of you, talk of you, kiss the vision ofyou, and still be a faithful woman in our bondage of flesh; and to usyou know what a bondage it is: How can that be? I should have asked, ifI had not seen it. Dearest, she loves her husband, and she loves you.She has two husbands, and she turns to the husband of her spirit whenthat, or any, dagger strikes her bosom. Carlo has an unripe mind. Theyhave been married but a little more than four months; and he reveresher and loves her.".... Laura's voice dragged. "Multiply the months bythousands, we shall not make those two lives one. It is the curse ofman's education in Italy? He can see that she has wits and courage. Hewill not consent to make use of them. You know her: she is not one totalk of these things. She, who has both heart and judgement--she ismerely a little boat tied to a big ship. Such is their marriage. Shecannot influence him. She is not allowed to advise him. And she is theone who should lead the way. And--if she did, we should now be withinsight of the City."
Laura took his hand. She found it moist, though his face was calm andhis chest heaved regularly. An impish form of the pity women feel for usat times moved her to say, "Your skin is as bronzed as it was lastyear. Sandra spoke of it. She compared it to a young vine-leaf. I wonderwhether girls have really an admonition of what is good for them whilethey are going their ways like destined machines?"
"Almost all men are of flesh and blood," said Merthyr softly.
"I spoke of girls."
"I speak of men."
"Blunt--witted that I am! Of course you did. But do not imagine that sheis not happy with her husband. They are united firmly."
"The better for her, and him, and me," said Merthyr.
Laura twisted an end of her scarf with fretful fingers. "Carlo Alberthas crossed the Ticino?"
"Is about to do so," Merthyr rejoined.
"Will Rome hold on if he is defeated?"
"Rome has nothing to fear on that side."
"But you do not speak hopefully of Rome."
"I suppose I am thinking of other matters."
"You confess it!"
The random conversation wearied him. His foot tapped the floor.
"Why do you say that?" he asked.
"Verily, for no other reason than that I have a wicked curiosity, andthat you come from Rome," said Laura, now perfectly frank, and believingthat she had explained her enigmatical talk, if she had not furnished anexcuse for it. Merthyr came from the City which was now encircled byan irradiating halo in her imagination, and a fit of spontaneousinexplicable feminine tenderness being upon her at the moment of theirmeeting, she found herself on a sudden prompted to touch and probe andbrood voluptuously over an unfortunate lover's feelings, supposing thatthey existed. For the glory of Rome was on him, and she was at the sametime angry with Carlo Ammiani. It was the form of passion her dedicatedwidowhood could still be subject to in its youth; the sole one. By thischance Merthyr learnt what nothing else would have told him.
Her tale of the attempted assassination was related with palpableindifference. She stated the facts. "The woman seemed to gasp whileshe had her hand up; she struck with no force; and she has since beeninanimate, I hear. The doctor says that a spasm of the heart seized herwhen she was about to strike. It has been shaken--I am not sure that hedoes not say displaced, or unseated--by some one of her black tempers.She shot Rinaldo Guidascarpi dead. Perhaps it was that. I am informedthat she worshipped the poor boy, and has been like a trapped she-wolfsince she did it. In some way she associated our darling with Rinaldo'sdeath, like the brute she is. The ostensible ground for her futilebit of devilishness was that she fancied Sandra to have betrayed BartoRizzo, her husband, into the hands of the polizia. He wrote to theCountess Alessandra--such a letter!--a curiosity!--he must see her andcross-examine her to satisfy himself that she was a true patriot, &c.You know the style: we neither of us like it. Sandra was waiting toreceive him when they pounced on him by the door. Next day the womanstruck at her. Decidedly a handsome woman. She is the exact contrastto the Countess Violetta in face, in everything. Heart-disease willcertainly never affect that pretty spy! But, mark," pursuedLaura, warming, "when Carlo arrived, tears, penitence, heaps ofself-accusations: he had been unkind to her even on Lake Orta, wherethey passed their golden month; he had neglected her at Turin; he hadspoken angry words in Milan; in fact, he had misused his treasure, andbegged pardon;--'If you please, my poor bleeding angel, I am sorry. Butdo not, I entreat, distract me with petitions of any sort, though I willperform anything earthly to satisfy you. Be a good little boat in thewake of the big ship. I will look over at you, and chirrup now andthen to you, my dearest, when I am not engaged in pilotingextraordinary.'--Very well; I do not mean to sneer at the unhappy boy,Merthyr; I love him; he was my husband's brother in arms; the sweetestlad ever seen. He is in the season of faults. He must command; he mustbe a chief; he fancies he can intrigue poor thing! It will pass. And sowill the hour to be forward to Rome. But I call your attention to this:when he heard of the dagger--I have it from Colonel Corte, who was withhim at the time in Turin--he cried out Violetta d'Isorella's name.Why? After he had buried his head an hour on Sandra's pillow, he wentstraight to Countess d'Isorella, and was absent till night. The woman ishideous to me. No; don't conceive that I think her Sandra's rival. Sheis too jealous. She has him in some web. If she has not ruined him, shewill. She was under my eyes the night she heard of his marriage: I sawhow she will look at seventy! Here is Carlo at the head of a plot shehas prepared for him; and he has Angelo Guidascarpi, and Ugo Corte,Marco Sana, Giulio Bandinelli, and about fifty others. They have allbeen kept away from Rome by that detestable -----, you object to hearbad names cast on wo
men, Merthyr. Hear Agostino! The poor old man comesdaily to this house to persuade Carlo to lead his band to Rome. It isso clearly Rome--Rome, where all his comrades are; where the chief standmust be made by the side of Italy's Chief. Worst sign of all, it hasbeen hinted semi-officially to Carlo that he may upon applicationbe permitted to re-issue his journal. Does not that show that theGovernment wishes to blindfold him, and keep him here, and knows hisplans?"
Laura started up as the door opened, and Vittoria appeared leaning uponCarlo's arm. Countess Ammiani, Countess d'Isorella, and Pericles werebehind them. Laura's children followed.
When Merthyr rose, Vittoria was smiling in Carlo's face at somethingthat had been spoken. She was pale, and her arm was in a sling, butthere was no appearance of her being unnerved. Merthyr waited for herrecognition of him. She turned her eyes from Carlo slowly. The softdull smile in them died out as it were with a throb, and then her headdrooped on one shoulder, and she sank to the floor.