CHAPTER XVI. INTRIGUE

  The life of a man has been aptly compared to the course of a stream: nowclear, now troubled, now careering merrily onward in joyous freedom, nowforcing its turbid course amid shoals and rocks; but in no circumstancedoes the comparison more truthfully apply than in those still intervalswhen, the impulse of force spent, the waveless pool succeeds tothe rapid river. There are few men, even among the most active andenergetic, who have not known such periods in life. With some these areseasons of concentration--times profitably passed in devising plans forthe future. Others chafe under the wearisome littleness of the hour, andlong for the days of activity and toil; and some there are to whom theseintervals have all the charm of a happy dream, and who love to indulgethemselves in a bliss such as in the busy world can never be theirfortune to enjoy.

  Among these last, a true disciple of the school who take refuge in theideal and the imaginative as the sole remedy against the ills of actuallife, was Gerald Fitzgerald. When he arose from his sick-bed, it waswith a sort of dreamy, indistinct consciousness that he was of high rankand station; one whose claims, however in abeyance now, must be admittedhereafter; that for the great part he was yet to fill, time alone waswanting. As to the past, it was a dream-land wherein he ventured withfear. It was in vain he asked himself, how much of it was true or false?Had this event really occurred? Had that man ever lived? The brokenincidents of a fevered head, mingled with the terrible realities he hadgone through; and there were many of his mere fancies that engagedhis credulity more powerfully than some of the actual events of hischequered life.

  His convalescence was passed at the Cardinal's villa of Orvieto; and ifanything could have added to the strange confusion which oppressed him,it was the curious indistinct impression his mind preserved of the placeitself. The gardens, fountains, statues, were all familiar. How had theybeen so revealed to him? As he strolled through the great rooms, objectsstruck him as well known; and yet, the Pere Massoni had said tohim: 'Orvieto will interest you; you have never been there'; and hisEminence, in his invitation, suggested the same thought. Day after dayhe pondered over this difficulty, and he continually turned over in hismind this question: 'Is there some inner picture in my being of all thatI am to meet with in life? Has existence only to unroll a tableau, everydetail of which is graven on my heart? Have other men these conflictswithin their minds? Is it that by some morbid condition of memory _I_ amthus tortured? and must I seek relief by trying to forget?' The strugglethus suggested, rendered him daily more taciturn and thoughtful. Hewould sit for hours long without a word; and time glided on absolutelyas though in a sleep.

  If Gerald's life was passed in this inactivity, the Pere Massoni's dayswere fully occupied. From Ireland the tidings had long been of the mostdiscouraging kind. The great cause which should have been confided tothe guidance of the Church, and such as the Church could have trusted,had been shamefully betrayed into the hands of a party deeply imbuedwith all the principles of the French Revolution; men taught in theinfamous doctrines of Voltaire and Volney, and who openly professed tohate a church even more than a monarchy. How the North of Ireland hadtaken the lead in insurrection--how the Presbyterians, sworn enemiesas they were to Catholicism, had enrolled themselves in the cause ofrevolt--how all the ready, active and zealous leaders were among thatclass and creed, the Priest Carrol had not failed to write him word; nordid it need the priest's suggestive comments to make the cleverJesuit aware of all the peril that this portended. Was it too late tocounteract these evils? by what means could men be brought back from thefatal infatuation of those terrible doctrines? how was the banner ofthe Faith to be brought to the van of the movement? were the thoughtsunceasingly in his mind. The French were willing to aid the Irish, soalso were the Dutch; but the intervention would only damage the causethe Pere cared for. Nor did he dare to confide these doubts to theCardinal and ask his counsel on them, since, to his Eminence he hadcontinually represented the case of Ireland in a totally differentlight. He had taught him to believe the people all jealous for theFaith, cruelly oppressed by England, hating the dynasty that ruled them,and eagerly watching for the return of the Stuarts, if haply there yetlived one to renew the traditions of that illustrious house. By dintof instances, and no small persuasive power, he at last had so farsucceeded as to enlist the sympathies of his Eminence in the youthpersonally, and was now plotting by what means he could consummate thatinterest by a marriage between Gerald and the beautiful Guglia Ridolfi.

  This was a project which, if often indistinctly hinted at between them,had never yet been seriously treated, and Massoni well knew that withCaraffa success was a mere accident, and that what he would reject oneday with scorn he would accept the next with eagerness and joy. Besides,the gloomy tidings he constantly received from Ireland indisposed thePere to incur any needless hazards. If the Chevalier was not destined toplay a great part in life, the Cardinal would never forgive an alliancethat conferred neither wealth nor station. The barren honour of callinga prince of the House of Stuart his nephew would ill requite himfor maintaining a mere pensioner and a dependant. Against theseconsiderations there was the calculation how far the cause of Fitzgeraldmight profit by the aid such a man as Caraffa could contribute, whenonce pledged to success by everything personally near and dear tohimself. Might not the great churchman, then, be led to make the causethe main object of all his wishes?

  The Cardinal was one of those men, and they are large enough to form aclass, who imagine that they owe every success they obtain in life, insome way or other, to their own admirable skill and forethought; theiregotism blinding them against all the aid the suggestions of others haveafforded, they arrive at a self-reliance which is actually marvellous.To turn to good account this peculiarity of disposition, Massoni nowaddressed himself zealously and actively. He well knew that if theCardinal only fancied that the alliance of his niece with the Chevalierwas a scheme devised by himself--one of which none but a man of his deepsubtlety and sagacity could ever have thought--the plot would have anirresistible attraction for him. The wily Jesuit meditated long overthis plan, and, at last, hit upon an expedient that seemed hopeful.Among the many agents whom he employed over Europe, was one callinghimself the Count Delia Rocca, a fellow of infinite craft andeffrontery, and who, though of the very humblest origin and mostquestionable morals, had actually gained a footing among the veryhighest and most exclusive of the French royalists. He had beenfrequently intrusted with confidential messages between the Courts ofFrance and Spain, and acquired a sort of courtier-like air and breeding,which lost nothing by any diffidence or modesty on his part.

  Massoni's plan was to pretend to the Cardinal that Delia Rocca had beensent out to Rome by the Count D'Artois, with the decoration of St.Louis for the Chevalier, and a secret mission to sound the young StuartPrince, as to his willingness to ally himself with the House of Bourbon,by marriage. For such a pretended mission the Count was well suited;sufficiently acquainted with the habits of great people to representtheir conversation correctly, and well versed in that half ambiguoustone, affected by diplomatists of inferior grade, he was admirablycalculated to play the part assigned him.

  To give a greater credence to the mission, it was necessary that theCardinal York should be also included in the deception; but nothingwas ever easier than to make a dupe of his Royal Highness. A number ofwell-turned compliments from his dear cousins of 'France' some littleallusions to the 'long ago' at St. Germains, when the exiled Stuartslived there, and a note, cleverly imitated, in the Count D'Artois' hand,were quite enough to win the old man's confidence. The next step wasto communicate Delia Rocca's arrival to the Cardinal Caraffa, and thisMassoni did with all due secrecy, intimating that the event was one uponwhich he desired to take the pleasure of his Eminence.

  Partly from offended pride, on not being himself sought for by theenvoy, and partly to disguise from Massoni the jealousy he always felton the score of Cardinal York's superior rank, Caraffa protested thatthe tidings had no interest for him whatev
er; that any sentiments heentertained for the young Chevalier were simply such as a sincere pitysuggested; that he never heard of a cause so utterly hopeless; that evenif powerful allies were willing and ready to sustain his pretensions,the young man's own defects of character would defeat their views; that,from all he could hear--for of himself he owned to know nothing--Geraldwas the last man in Europe to lead an enterprise which required greatdaring and continual resources, and, in fact, none could be his partisansave from a sense of deep compassion.

  The elaborate pains he took to impress all this upon Massoni convincedthe Pere that it was not the real sentiment of his Eminence, and he wasnot much surprised at a hasty summons to the Cardinal's palace on theevening of the day he had first communicated the news.

  'The first mine has been sprung!' muttered Massoni, as he read theorder and prepared to obey it.

  The Cardinal was in his study when the Pere arrived, and, continued topace up and down the room, briefly addressing a few words as Massonientered and saluted him.

  'The old Cardinal Monga had a saying, that if some work were not foundout to employ the Jesuits, they were certain to set all Europe in aflame. Was there not some truth in the remark, Pere Massoni? Answer mefrankly and fairly, for you know the body well!' Such was the speech bywhich he addressed him.

  'Had his Eminence reckoned the times in which Jesuit zeal and wisdom hadrescued the world from peril, it would have been a fitter theme for hiswisdom.'

  'It is not to be denied that they are meddlers, sir,' said the Cardinalhaughtily.

  'So are the sailors in a storm-tossed vessel. The good Samaritantroubled himself with what, others might have said, had no concern forhim.'

  'I will not discuss it,' said his Eminence abruptly. 'The world hasformed its own vulgar estimate of your order, and I, at least, agreewith the majority. He paused for a second or two, and then, with a toneof some irritation, said, 'What is this story Rome is full of, aboutsome Egyptian woman, or a Greek, arrested and confined by a warrant ofthe Holy Office; they have mingled your name with it, somehow?'

  'A grave charge, your Eminence; Satanic possession and witchcraft----'

  'Massoni,' broke in Caraffa, with a malicious twinkle of his dark eye,'remember, I beseech you, that we are alone. What do you mean, then, bywitchcraft?'

  'Were I to say to your Eminence that, after a certain interview withyou, I had come away, assuring myself that other sentiments were in yourheart than those you had avowed to me; that you had but half revealedthis, totally ignored that, affected credulity here, disbelief there,my subtlety, whether right or wrong, would resolve itself into a merecommon gift--the practised habit of one skilled to decipher motives; butif, while in your presence, standing as I now do here, I could, with aneffort of argument or abstraction, open your whole heart before me,and read there as in a book, and, while doing this, place you incircumstances where your most secret emotions must find vent, so thatnot a corner nor a nook of your nature should be strange to me, by whatname would you call such an influence?'

  'What you describe now has never existed, Massoni. Tricksters andmountebanks have pretended to such power in every age, but they have hadno other dupes than the unlettered multitude.'

  'How say you, then, if I be a believer here? What say you, if I havetested this woman's power, and proved it? What say you, if all she haspredicted has uniformly come to pass; not a day, nor a date, nor anhour mistaken! I will give an instance. Of Delia Rocca's mission and itsobjects here, I had not the very faintest anticipation. That the exiledfamily of France cherished hope enough to speculate on some remotefuture, I did not dream of suspecting; and yet, through her foretelling,I learned the day he would arrive at Rome, the very hotel he would putup at, the steps he would adopt to obtain an audience of the Chevalier,the attempts he would make to keep his mission a secret from me; nay,to the very dress in which he would present himself, I knew and wasprepared for all.'

  'All this might be concerted; what more easy than to plan anycircumstance you have detailed, and by imposing on your credulity secureyour co-operation?'

  'Let me finish, sir. I asked what success would attend his plan, andlearned that destiny had yet left this doubtful--that all was yetdependent on the will of one whose mind was still unresolved. I pressedeagerly to learn his name, she refused to tell me, openly avowing thatshe would thwart his influence, if in her power. I grew angry and evenscoffed at her pretended powers, declaring, as you have just suggested,that all she had told me might be nothing beyond a well-arranged scheme."For once, then, you shall have a proof," said she, "and never shall itbe repeated; fold that sheet of paper there, as a letter, and seal itcarefully and well. The name I have alluded to is written within," saidshe. I started, for the paper contained no writing--not a word, nota syllable--I had scanned it carefully ere I folded it. Of this I canpledge my solemn and sacred word.'

  'Well, when you broke the seal,' burst in the Cardinal.

  'I have not yet done so,' said the Pere calmly, 'there is the letter,just as I folded and sealed it; from that moment to this it has neverquitted my possession. It may be, that, as you would suspect, even thismight be sleight-of-hand. It may be, sir, that the paper contains nowriting.'

  'Let us see,' cried the Cardinal, taking the letter and breaking itopen. 'Madonna!' exclaimed he suddenly. 'Look here'; and his finger thentremblingly pointed to the word, 'Caraffa,' traced in small letters andwith a very faint ink in the middle of the page.

  'And to this you swear, on your soul's safety,' cried Caraffa eagerly.

  He bent forward till his lips touched the large golden cross which, as apectoral, the Cardinal wore, and muttered, 'By this emblem, I swear it.'

  'Such influence is demoniacal, none can doubt it; who is this woman, andwhence came she?'

  'So much of her story as I know is briefly told,' said Massoni, whorelated all that he had heard of the Egyptian, concluding with the stepsby which he had her arrested and confined in the convent of St. MariaMaggiore, on the Tiber.

  'There was an age when such a woman had been sent to the stake,' saidCaraffa fiercely. 'Is it a wiser policy that pardons her?'

  'Yes; if by her means a good end can be served,' interrupted the Pere;'if through what she can reveal, errors may be avoided, perils averted,and successes gained; if, in short, Satan can be used as slave, notmaster.'

  'And wherefore should she be opposed to _me_? broke in Caraffa, whosethoughts reverted to what concerned himself personally.

  'As a true and faithful priest, as an honoured prince of the Church, youmust be her enemy,' said the Pere; and, though the words were spoken inall seeming sincerity, the Cardinal's dark eyes scanned the speaker'sface keenly and severely. As if failing, however, to detect anyequivocation in his manner, Caraffa addressed himself to another courseof thought and said--

  'Have you questioned her, then, as to this young man's chances?'

  'She will not speak of them,' was the abrupt reply.

  'Have they met?'

  'Once, and only once; and of the meeting his memory preserves no tracewhatever, since it was during his fever, and when his mind was wanderingand incoherent.'

  'Could I see her, without being known? could I speak with her myself?'

  Massoni shook his head doubtingly, 'No disguise would avail against hercraft.'

  Caraffa pondered long over his thoughts, and at last said--'I have astrong desire to see her, even though I should not speak to her. Whatsay you, Massoni?'

  'It shall be as pleases your Eminence,' was the meek answer.

  'So much I know, sir; but it is your counsel that I am now asking; whatwould you advise?'

  'So far as I can guess,' answered the Pere cautiously, 'it is hermarvellous gift to exert influence over those with whom she comes incontact--a direct palpable sway. Even I, cold, impassive, as I am,unused to feel, and long beyond the reach of such fascination--even _I_have known what it is to confront a nature thus strangely endowed,'

  'These are mere fancies, Massoni.'

&n
bsp; 'Fancies that have the force of convictions. For my own part, depositaryas I am of much that the world need not, should not, know, I would notwillingly expose my heart to one like her.'

  'Were it even as you say, Massoni, of what could the knowledge availher? Bethink you for a moment of what strange mysteries of the humanheart every village curate is the keeper; how he has probed recesses,dived into secret clefts, of which, till revealed by strict search, thevery possessor knew not the existence; and yet how valueless, how inert,how inoperative in the great game of life does not this knowledge prove.If this were power, the men who possessed it would sway the universe.'

  'And so they might,' burst in Massoni, 'if they would adapt to thegreat events of life the knowledge which they now dissipate in the smallcircle of family existence. If they would apply to statecraft the samesprings by which they now awaken jealousies, kindle passions, lulljust suspicions, and excite distrusts! With powder enough to blow upa fortress, they are contented to spend it in fireworks! The order ofwhich I am an unworthy member alone conceived a different estimate ofthe duty.'

  'The world gives credit to your zeal,' said the Cardinal slyly.

  'The world is an ungrateful taskmaster. It would have its work done, andbe free to disparage those who have laboured for it.'

  A certain tone of defiance in this speech left an awkward pause forseveral minutes. At last Caraffa said carelessly--

  'Of what were we speaking a while ago? Let us return to it.'

  'It was of the Count Delia Rocca and his mission, your Eminence.'

  'True. You said that he wished to see the Chevalier, to present hisletters. There can be no objection to that. The road to Orvieto is anexcellent one, and my poor house there is quite capable of affordinghospitality for even a visitor so distinguished.' With all his effortsto appear tranquil, the Cardinal spoke in a broken, abrupt way, thatbetrayed a mind very ill at ease.

  'I am not aware, Massoni,' resumed he, 'that the affair concerns _me_,nor is there occasion to consult me upon it.' This address provoked noreply from the Pere, who continued patiently to scan the speaker, andmark the agitation that more and more disturbed him.

  'I conclude, of course,' said the Cardinal again, 'that the Chevalier'shealth is so firmly re-established this interview cannot be hurtful tohim; that he is fully equal to discuss questions touching his gravestinterests. You who hear frequently from him can give me assurance onthis point.'

  'I am in almost daily correspondence----''

  'I know it,' broke in Caraffa.

  'I am in almost daily correspondence with the Chevalier, and can answerfor it that he is in the enjoyment of perfect health and spirits.'

  'They who speculated on his being inferior to his destiny will perhapsfeel disappointed!' said Caraffa, in a low, searching accent.

  'They acknowledge as much already, your Eminence. In the very lastdespatches Sir Horace Mann sent home there is a gloomy prediction ofwhat trouble a youth so gifted and so ambitious may one day occasionthem in England.'

  'Your friend the Marchesa Balbi, then, still wields her influence at theBritish legation?' said Caraffa, smiling cunningly; 'or you had neverknown these sentiments of the Minister.'

  'Your Eminence reads all secrets,' was the submissive reply, as the Perebowed his head.

  'Has she also told you what they think of the youth in England?'

  'No further than that there is a great anxiety to see him, and assurethemselves that he resembles the House of Stuart.'

  'Of that there is no doubt,' broke in Caraffa; 'there is not a look,a gesture, a trait of manner, or a tone of the voice, he has notinherited.'

  'These may seem trifles in the days of exile and adversity, but they aretitle-deeds fortune never fails to adduce when better times come round.'

  'And do you really still believe in such, Massoni? Tell me, in thesincerity of man to man, without disguise, and, if you can, withoutprejudice--do you continue to cherish hopes of this youth's fortune?'

  'I have never doubted of them for a moment, sir,' said the Pereconfidently. 'So long as I saw him weak and broken, with weary looks andjaded spirits, I felt the time to be distant; but when I beheld himin the full vigour of his manly strength, I knew that his hour wasapproaching; it needed but the call, the man was ready.'

  'Ah! Massoni, if I had thought so--if I but thought so,' burst outthe Cardinal, as he leaned his head on his hand, and lapsed into deepreflection.

  The wily Pere never ventured to break in upon a course of thought, everymotive of which contributed to his own secret purpose. He watched himtherefore, closely, but in silence. At last Caraffa, lifting up hishead, said--

  'I have been thinking over this mission of Delia Rocca, Massoni, and itwere perhaps as well--at least it will look kindly--were I to go overto Orvieto myself, and speak with the Chevalier before he receives him.Detain the Count, therefore, till you hear from me; I shall start in themorning.' The Pere bowed, and after a few moments withdrew.