Vendetta: or, The story of one forgotten

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VENDETTA!

THE STORY OF ONE FORGOTTEN

BY

MARIE CORELLI

AUTHOR OF " THB SOUL OF LILITH," " A ROMANCE OP TWO WORU»,"

"WORMWOOD,** ' THBLMA," Brc.

NEW YORK

NEW YORK PUBLISHING 00.
26 CITY HALL PLACE

HENRY MORSc. ^ ..: .

PREFACE.

those who read the following pages should deem this
orory at all improbable, it is perhaps necessary to say that its
chief incidents are founded on an actual occurrence which took
place in Naples during the last scathing visitation of the
cholera in 1884. We know well enough, by the chronicle of
daily journalism, that the infidelity of wives is, most unhap-
pily, becoming common — far too common for the peace and
good repute of society. Not so common is an outraged hus-
band's vengeance — not often dare he take the law into his own
hands — for in Englana, at least, such boldness on his part
would doubtless be deemed a worse crime than that by which
he personally is doomed to suffer. But in Italy things are on
a different footing — the verbosity and red-tape of the law, and
the hesitating verdict of special juries, are not there considered
sufficiently efficacious to soothe a man's damaged honor and
ruined name. And thus — whetner right or wrong — it often
happens that strange and awful deeds are perpetrated — deeds
of which the world in general hears notning, and which, when
brought to light at last, are received with surprise and in-
credulity. Yet the romances planned by the brain of the
novelist or dramatist are poor in comparison witn the romances
of real life — life wrongly termed commonplace, out which, in
fact, teems with tragedies as great and dark and soul-torturing
as any devised by Sophocles or Shakespeare. Nothing is more
strange than truth — nothing, at times, more terrible r

MARIE

August, 1886.

314911

UNIV. or

VENDETTA!

CHAPTER I.

I, WHO write this, am a dead man. Dez^d legally — dead
by absolute proofs — dead and buried ! Ask for me in my na-
tive city and they will tell you I was one of the victims of the
cholera that ravaged Naples in 1884, and that my mortal
remains lie moldering in the funeral vault of my ancestors.
Yet — I live ! I feel the warm blood coursing through my
veins — the blood of thirty summers — the prime of early man-
hood invigorates me, and makes these eyes of mine keen and
bright — these muscles strong as iron — this hand powerful of
grip — this well-knit form erec*" and proud of bearing. Yc? !
— I am alive, though declared to be dead ; alive in the full-
ness of manly force — and even sorrow has left few distin-
guishing marks upon me, save one. My hair, once ebony
black, is white as a wreath of Alpine snow, though its cluster
ing curls are thick as ever.

" A constitutional inheritance ? " a?ks one physician, observ
ing my frosted ]ocks.

" A sudden shock ? " suggests another.

"Exposure to intense heat? " hints a third.

I answer none of them. I did so once. I told my story tc
a man I met by chance — one renowned for medical skill and
kindliness. He heard me to the end in evident incredulity
and alarm, and hinted at the possibility of madness. Since
then I have never spoken.

But now I write. I am far from all persecution — I can set
down the truth fearlessly. I can dip the pen in my own blood
if I choose, and none shall gainsay me ! For the gre^R silence
of a vast South American forest encompasses me — the grand
and stately silence of a virginal nature, almost unbroken by
the ruthless step of man's civilization — a haven of perfect

6 VEtfbETTA I

calm, delicately disturbed by the fluttering wings and soft
voices of birds, and the gentle or stormy murmur of the free-
born winds of heaven. Within this charmed circle of rest I
dwell — here I lift up my overburdened heart like a brimming
chalice, and empty it on the ground, to the last drop of gall
contained therein. The world shall know my history.

Dead, and yet living ! How can that be ? — you ask. Ah, my
friends ! If you seek to be rid of your dead relations for a cer-
tainty, you should have their bodies cremated. Otherwise
there is no knowing what may happen ! Cremation is the best
*vay — the only way. It is clean, and safe. Why should there
be any prejudice against it ? Surely it is better to give the
remains of what we loved (or pretended to love) to cleansing
fire and pure air than to lay them in a cold vault of stone, or
down, down in the wet and clinging earth. For loathly things
are hidden deep in the mold — things, foul and all unname-
able — lon^ worms — slimy creatures with blind eyes and use-
less wings — aoortionsand deformities of the insect tribe born
of poisonous vapor — creatures the very sight of which would
drive you, oh, delicate woman, into a fit of hysteria, and would
provoke even you, oh, strong man, to a shudder of repulsion !
But there is a worse thing than these merely physical horrors
which come of so-called Christian burial — that is, the terrible
uncertainty. What, if after we have lowered the narrow
strong box containing our dear deceased relation into its vault
or hollow in the ground — what, if after we have worn a seemly
garb of woe, and tortured our faces into the fitting expression
of gentle and patient melancholy — what, I say, if after all the
reasonable precautions taken to insure safety, they should
actually prove insufficient? What — if the prison to which we
have consigned the deeply regretted one should not have such
close doors as we fondly imagined ? What, if the stout coffin
should be wrenched apart by fierce and frenzied fingers —
what, if our late dear friend should not be dead, but should,
like Lazarus of old, come forth to challenge our affection
anew ? Should we not grieve sorely that we had failed to
avail ourselves of the secure and classical method of crema-
tion ? Especially if we had benefited by worldly goods or
money left to us by the so deservedly lamented ! For we are
self-deceiving hypocrites — few of us are really sorry for the
dead — few of us remember them with any real tenderness or
affection. And yet God knows ! they may need more pity
than we dream of !

£ut let me to my task I, Fabio Romani, lately deceased,

VENDETT'A! 7

ftm about to chronicle the events of one short year — a year in
which was compressed the agony of a long and tortured life-
time ! One little year ! — one sharp thrust from the dagger of
Time ! It pierced my heart — the wound still gapes and
bleeds, and every drop of blood is tainted as it falls !

One suffering, common to many, I have never known — that
is — poverty. I was born rich. When my father, Count
Filippo Romani, died, leaving me, then a lad of seventeen,
sole heir to his enormous possessions — sole head of his power-
ful house — there were many candid friends who, with their
usual kindness, prophesied the worst things of my future.
Nay, there were even some who looked forward to my physi-
cal and mental destruction with a certain degree of malignant
expectation — and they were estimable persons too. They
were respectably connected — their words carried weight — •
and for a time I was an object of their maliciously pious
fears. I was destined, according to their calculations, to be
a gambler, a spendthrift, a drunkard, an incurable rouk of the
most abandoned character. Yet, strange to say, I became
none of these things. Though a Neapolitan, with all the
fiery passions and hot blood of my race, I had an innate
scorn for the contemptible vices and low desires of the un-
thinking vulgar. Gambling seemed to me a delirious folly —
drink, a destroyer of health and reason-V-and licentious ex-
travagance an outrage on the poor. I chose my own way of
life — a middle course between simplicity and luxury — a judi-
cious mingling of home-like peace with the gayety of sympa-
thetic social intercourse — an even tenor of intelligent exist-
ence which neither exhausted the mind nor injured the body.

I dwelt in my father's villa — a miniature palace of white
marble, situated on a wooded height overlooking the Bay of
Naples. My pleasure-grounds were fringed with fragrant
groves of orange and myrtle, where hundreds of full-voiced
nightingales warbled their love-melodies to the golden moon.
Sparkling fountains rose and fell in huge stone basins carved
with many a quaint design, and their cool murmurous splash
refreshed the burning silence of the hottest summer air. In
this retreat I lived at peace for some happy years, surrounded
by books and pictures, and visited frequently by friends-
young men whose tastes were more or less like my own, and
who were capable of equally appreciating the merits of an
antique volume, or the flavor of a rare vintage.

Of women I saw little or nothing. Truth to tell, I instinct-
ively avoided them, Parents with marriageable daughters

* VENDETTA!

invited me frequently to their houses, but these invitations I
generally refused. My best books warned me against fem-
inine society — and I believed and accepted the warning.
This tendency of mine exposed me to the ridicule of those
among my companions who were amorously inclined, but
their gay jests at what they termed my " weakness " never
affected me. I trusted in friendship rather than love, and I
had a friend — one for whom at that time I would gladly have
laid down my life — one who inspired me with the most pro-
found attachment. He, Guido Ferrari, also joined occasion-
ally with others in the good-natured mockery I brought down
upon myself by my shrinking dislike of women.

" Fie on thee, Fabio ! " he would cry. " Thou wilt not
taste life till thou hast sipped the nectar from a pair of rose-
red lips — thou shalt not guess the riddle of the stars till thou
hast gazed deep down into the fathomless glory of a maiden's
eyes — thou canst not know delight till thou hast clasped eager
arms round a coy waist and heard the beating of a passionate
heart against thine own ! A truce to thy musty volumes !
Believe it, those ancient and sorrowful philosophers had no
manhood in them — their blood was water — and their slanders
against women were but the pettish utterances of their own
deserved disappointments. Those who miss the chief prize
of life would fain persuade others that it is not worth having.
What, man ! Thou, with a ready wit, a glancing eye, a gay
smile, a supple form, thou wilt not enter the lists of love ?
What says Voltaire of the blind god ?

"' Qui que tu sois voil& ton maitre,
II fut — il est — ou il doit etre 1 ' "

When my friend spoke thus I smiled, but answered nothing.
His arguments failed to convince me. Yet I loved to hear
him talk — his voice was mellow as the note of a thrush, and
his eyes had an eloquence greater than all speech. I loved
him — God knows ! unselfishly, sincerely — with that rare ten-
derness sometimes felt by schoolboys for one another, but
seldom experienced by grown men. I was happy in his
society, as he, indeed, appeared to be in mine. We passed
most of our time together, he, like myself, having been be-
reaved of his parents in early youth, and therefore left to
shape out his own course of life as suited his particular fancy.
He chose art as a profession, and, though a fairly successful
painter, was as poor as I was rich. I remedied this neglect

VENDETTA! 9

ef fortune for him in various ways with due forethought and
delicacy — and gave him as many commissions as I possibly
could without rousing his suspicion or wounding his pride.
For he possessed a strong attraction for me — we had much
the same tastes, we shared the same sympathies, in short, I
desired nothing better than his confidence and companion-
ship.

In this world no one, however harmless, is allowed to con-
tinue happy. Fate — or caprice — cannot endure to see us
monotonously at rest. Something perfectly trivial — a look, a
word, a touch, and lo ! a long chain of old associations is
broken asunder, and the peace we deemed so deep and lasting
in finally interrupted. This change came to me, as surely as
it comes to all. One day — how well I remember it ! — one
sultry evening toward the end of May, 1881, I was in Naples.
I had passed the afternoon in my yacht, idly and slowly sail-
ing over the bay, availing myself of what little wind there was.
Guide's absence (he had gone to Rome on a visit of some
weeks' duration) rendered me somewhat of a solitary, and as
my light craft ran into harbor, I found myself in a pensive,
half-uncertain mood, which brought with it its own depres-
sion. The fe'v sailors who manned my vessel dispersed right
and left as soon as they were landedV— each to his own favo-
rite haunts of pleasure or dissipation^vbut I was in no humor
to be easily amused. Though I had plenty of acquaintance
in the city, I cared little for such entertainment as they could
offer me. As I strolled along through one of the principal
streets, considering whether or not I should return on foot to
my own dwelling on the heights, I heard a sound of singing,
and perceived in the distance a glimmer of white robes. It was
the Month of Mary, and I at once concluded that this must be
an approaching Procession of the Virgin. Half in idleness,
half in curiosity, I stood still and waited. The singing voices
came nearer and nearer — I saw the priests, the acolytes, the
swinging gold censers heavy with fragrance, the flaring can-
dles, the snowy veils of children and girls — and then all sud-
denly the picturesque beauty of the scene danced before my
eyes in a whirling blur of brilliancy and color from which
looked forth — one face ! One face beaming out like a star
from a cloud of amber tresses — one face of rose-tinted, child-
like loveliness — a loveliness absolutely perfect, lighted up by
two luminous eyes, large and black as night — one face in
which the small, curved mouth smiled half provokingly, half
sweetly ! I gazed and gazed again, dazzled and excited,

10 VENDETTA!

beauty makes such fools of us all ! This was a woman — one
of the sex I mistrusted and avoided — a woman in the earliest
spring of her youth, a girl of fifteen or sixteen at the utmost.
Her veil had been thrown back by accident or design, and
"or one brief moment I drank in that soul-tempting glance;
that witch-like smile ! The procession passed — the vision
faded — but in that breath of time one epoch of my life had

closed forever, and another had begun !

*******

Of course I married her. We Neapolitans lose no time in
such matters. We are not prudent. Unlike the calm blood
of Englishmen, ours rushes swiftly through our veins — it is
warm as wine and sunlight, and needs no fictitious stimulant.
We love, we desire, we possess ; and then ? We tire, you
say ? These southern races are so fickle ! All wrong — we
are less tired than you deem. And do not Englishmen tire ?
Have they no secret ennui at times when sitting in the chim-
ney nook of " home, sweet home," witt their fat wives and
ever-spreading families ? Truly, yes ! But they are too
cautious to say so.

I need not relate the story of my courtship — it was brief
and sweet as a song sung perfectly. There were no obstacles.
The girl I sought was the only daughter of a ruined Floren-
tine noble of dissolute character, who gained a bare subsist-
ence by frequenting the gaming-tables. His child had been
brought up in a convent renowned for strict discipline — she
knew nothing of the world. She was, he assured me, with
maudlin tears in kis eyes, " as innocent as a flower on the
altar of the Madonna." I believed him — for what could this
lovely, youthful, low- voiced maiden know of even the shadow
of evil ? I was eager to gather so fair a lily for my own
proud wearing — and her father gladly gave her to me, no
doubt inwardly congratulating himself on the wealthy match
that had fallen to the lot of his dowerless daughter.

We were married at the end of June, and Guido Ferrari
graced our bridal with his handsome and gallant presence.

" By the body of Bacchus ! " he exclaimed to me when the
nuptial ceremony was over, " thou hast profited by my teach-
ing, Fabio ! A quiet rogue is often most cunning ! Thou
hast rifled the casket of Venus, and stolen her fairest jewel—
thou hast secured the loveliest maiden in the two Sicilies ! "

I pressed his hand, and a touch of remorse stole over me,
for he was no longer first in my affection. Almost I regret-
ted it— yes, on my very wedding-mom I looked back to th«

VENDETTA ! IS

old days — old now though so recent — and sighed to think
they were ended. I glanced at Nina, my wife. It was
enough ! Her beauty dazzled and overcame me. The melt-
ing languor of her large limpid eyes stole into my veins — I
forgot all but her. I was in that high delirium of passion i
which love, and love only, seems the keynote of creation. I
touched the topmost peak of the height of joy — the days were
feasts of fairy-land, the nights dreams of rapture ! No ; I
never tired ! My wife's beauty never palled upon me ; she
grew fairer with each day of possession. I never saw her
otherwise than attractive, and within a few months she had
probed all the depths of my nature. She discovered how
certain sweet looks of hers could draw me to her side, a will-
ing and devoted slave ; she measured my weakness with her
own power ; she knew — what did she not know ? I torture
myself with these foolish memories. All men past the age of
twenty have learned somewhat of the tricks of women — the
pretty playful nothings that weaken the will and sap the force
of the strongest hero. She loved me ? Oh, yes, I suppose
so ! Looking back on those days, I can frankly say I be-
lieve she loved me — as nine hundred wives out of a thousand
love their husbands, namely — for what they can get. And I
grudged her nothing. If I chose to idolize her, and raise her
to the stature of an angel when she was but on the low level
of mere womanhood, that was my folly, not her fault.

We kept open house. Our villa was a place of rendez-
vous for the leading members of the best society in and around
Naples. My wife was universally admired ; her lovely face
and graceful manners were themes of conversation through-
out the whole neighborhood. Guido Ferrari, my friend, was
one of those who were loudest in her praise, and the chival-
rous homage he displayed toward her doubly endeared him
to me. I trusted him as a brother ; he came and went as
pleased him ; he brought Nina gifts of flowers and fanciful
trifles adapted to her taste, and treated her with fraternal and
delicate kindness. I deemed my happiness perfect — with
love, wealth, and friendship, what more could a man desire ?
•* Yet another drop of honey was added to my cup of sweet-
ness. On the first morning of May, 1882, our child was born
— a girl-babe, fair as one of the white anemones which at
that season grew thickly in the woods surrounding out
home. They brought the little one to me in the shaded
veranda where I sat at breakfast with Guido — a tiny, almost
shapeless bundle, wrapped in soft cashmere and old lace,

19 VEND ETTA 1

I took the fragile thing in my arms with a tender reverence ;
it opened its eyes ; they were large and dark like Nina's, and
the light of a recent heaven seemed still to linger in their
pure dspflfis. I kissed the little face ; Guido did the same ;
and those clear, quiet eyes regarded us both with a strange
half-inquiring solemnity. A bird perched on a bough of jas-
mine broke into a low, sweet song, the soft wind blew and
scattered the petals of a white rose at our feet. I gave the
infant back to the nurse, who waited to receive it, and said,
with a smile, " Tell my wife we have welcomed her May-
blossom."

Guido laid his hand on my shoulder as the servant retired ;
his face was unusually pale.

" Thou art a good fellow, Fabio ! " he said, abruptly.

" Indeed ! How so ? " I asked, half laughingly ; " I am
no better than other men."

" You are less suspicious than the majority," he returned,
turning away from me and playing idly with a spray of clem-
atis that trailed on one of the pillars of the veranda.

I glanced at him in surprise. " What do you mean, amico ?
Have I reason to suspect any one ? "

He laughed and resumed his seat at the breakfast-table.

" Why, no ! " he answered, with a frank look. " But in
Naples the air is pregnant with suspicion — jealousy's dagger
is ever ready to strike, justly or unjustly — the very children
are learned in the ways of vice. Penitents confess to priests
who. are worse than penitents, and by Heaven ! in such a
tate of society, where conjugal fidelity is a farce " — he paused

moment, and then went on — " is it not wonderful. to know
a man like you, Fabio ? A man happy in home affections,
Tjrithout a cloud on the sky of his confidence ? "
J " I have no cause for distrust," I said. " Nina is as inno-
cent as the little child of whom she is to-day the mother."

" True ! " exclaimed Ferrari. " Perfectly true ! " and he
looked me full in the eyes, with a smile. " White as the vir-
gin snow on the summit of Mont Blanc — purer than the flaw-
less diamond — and unapproachable as the furthest star 1 Is
it not so ? "

I assented with a certain gravity ; something in his man-
ner puzzled me. Our conversation soon turned on different
topics, and I thought no more of the matter. But a time
came — and that speedily — when I had stern reasgn to remem-
ber every word he had uttered.

VEND ETTA I

CHAPTER II.

EVERY one knows what kind of summer we had in Naples
In 1884. The newspapers of all lands teemed with the story
of its horrors. The cholera walked abroad like a destroying -
demon ; under its withering touch scores of people, young
and old, dropped down in the streets to die. The fell dis-
ease, born of dirt and criminal neglect of sanitary pre-
cautions, gained on the city with awful rapidity, and worse
even than the plague was the unreasoning but universal panic.
The never-to-be-forgotten heroism of King Humbert had its
effect on the more educated classes, but among the low Nea-
politan populace, abject fear, vulgar superstition, and utter
selfishness reigned supreme. One case may serve as an ex-
ample of many others. A fisherman, well known in the place,
a handsome and popular young fellow, was seized, while
working in his boat, with the first symptoms of cholera. He
was carried to his mother's house. The old woman, a vil-
lainous-looking hag, watched the little procession as it ap-
proached her dwelling, and taking in the situation at once,
she shut and barricaded her door.

" Santissima Madonna ! " she yelled, shrilly, through a
half opened window. " Leave him in the street, the aban-
doned, miserable one ! The ungrateful pig ! He would
bring tiie plague to his own hard-working, honest mother !
Holy Joseph ! who would have children ? Leave him in the
street, I tell you ! "

It was useless to expostulate with this feminine scarecrow;
her son was, happily for himself, unconscious, and after some
more wrangling he was laid down on her doorstep, where he
shortly afterward expired, his body being afterward carted
away like so much rubbish by the beccamorti.

The heat in the city was intense. The sky was a burning
dome of brilliancy, the bay was still as a glittering sheet of
glass. A thin column of smoke issuing from the crater of
Vesuvius increased the impression of an all-pervading, though
imperceptible ring of fire, that seemed to surround the place.
No birds sung save in the late evening, when the nightingales
in my gardens broke out in a bubbling torrent of melody,
half joyous, half melancholy. Up on that wooded height
where I dwelt it was comparatively cool. I took all precau-
tions necessary to prevent the contagion from attacking our

14- VENDETTA t

household ; in fact, I would have left the neighborhood
altogether, had I not known that hasty flight from an infected
district often carries with it the possibility of closer contact
with the disease. My wife, besides, was not nervous — I
think very beautiful women seldom are. Their superb
vanity is an excellent shield to repel pestilence ; it does away
with the principal element of danger — fear. As for our
Stella, a toddling mite of two years old, she was a healthy
child, for whom neither her mother nor myself entertained
the least anxiety.

Guido Ferrari came and stayed with us, and while the
cholera, like a sharp scythe put into a field of ripe corn,
mowed down the dirt-loving Neapolitans by hundreds, we
three, with a small retinue of servants, none of whom were
ever permitted to visit the city, lived on farinaceous food
and distilled water, bathed regularly, rose and retired early,
and enjoyed the most perfect health.

Among her many other attractions my wife was gifted with
a beautiful and well-trained voice. She sung with exquisite
expression, and many an evening when Guido and myself sat
smoking in the garden, after little Stella had gone to bed,
Nina would ravish our ears with the music of her nightingale
notes, singing song after song, quaint storneUi and ritornelli
— songs of the people, full of wild and passionate beauty. In
these Guido would often join her, his full barytone chiming
in with her delicate and clear soprano as deliciously as the
fall of a fountain with the trill of a bird. I can hear those
two voices now ; their united melody still rings mockingly
in my ears ; the heavy perfume of orange-blossom, mingled
with myrtle, floats toward me on the air ; the yellow moon
burns round and full in the dense blue sky, like the King of
Thule's goblet of gold flung into a deep sea, and again I
behold those two heads leaning together, the one fair, the
other dark ; my wife, my friend — those two whose lives were
a million times dearer to me than my own. Ah ! they were
happy days — days of self-delusion always are. We are never
grateful enough to the candid persons who wake us from our
dreams — yet such are in truth our best friends, could we but
realize it.

August was the most terrible of all the summer months in
Naples. The cholera increased with frightful steadiness,
and the people seemed to be literally mad with terror.
Some of them, seized with a wild spirit of defiance, plunged
into orgies of vice and intemperance with a reckless disr*

VENDETTA I 15

gard of consequences. One of these frantic revels took
place at a well-known cafe*. Eight young men, accompanied
by eight girls of remarkable beauty, arrived, and ordered a
private room, where they were served with a sumptuous re-
past. At its close one of the party raised his glass and pro-
posed, " Success to the cholera ! " The toast was received
with riotous shouts of applause, and all drank it with delir-
ious laughter. That very night every one of the revelers
died in horrible agony ; their bodies, as usual, were thrust
into flimsy coffins and buried one on top of another in a
hole hastily dug for the purpose. Dismal stories like these
reached us every day, but we were not morbidly impressed
by them. Stella was a living charm against pestilence ; her
innocent playfulness and prattle kept us amused and em-
ployed, and surrounded us with an atmosphere that was
physically and mentally wholesome.

One morning — one of the very hottest mornings of that
scorching month — I woke at an earlier hour than usual. A
suggestion of possible coolness in the air tempted me to rise
and stroll through the garden. My wife slept soundly at my
side. I dressed softly, without disturbing her. As I was
about to leave the room some instinct made me turn back to
look at her once more. How lovely she was ! she smiled in
her sleep ! My heart beat as I gazed — she had been mine
for three years — mine only ! — and my passionate admiration
and love of her had increased in proportion to that length of
time. I raised one of the scattered golden locks that lay
shining like a sunbeam on the pillow, and kissed it tenderly.
Then — all unconscious of my fate — I left her.

A faint breeze greeted me as I sauntered slowly along the
garden walks — a breath of wind scarce strong enough to
flutter the leaves, yet it had a salt savor in it that was re-
freshing after the tropical heat of the past night. I was at
that time absorbed in the study of Plato, and as I walked,
my mind occupied itself with many high problems and deep
questions suggested by that great teacher. Lost in a train
of profound yet pleasant thought, I strayed on further than
I intended, and found myself at last in a by-path, long
disused by our household — a winding footway leading down-
ward in the direction of the harbor. It was shady and cool,
and I followed the road almost unconsciously, till I caught
a glimpse of masts and white sails gleaming through the
leafage of the overarching trees. I was then about to re-
trace my steps, when I was startled by a sudden sound. It

16 VENDETTA i

was a low moan of intense pain — a smothered cry that
seemed to be wrung from some animal in torture. I turned
in the direction whence it came, and saw, lying face down-
ward on th~ grass, a boy — a little fruit-seller of eleven or
twelve years of age. His basket of wares stood beside him,
a tempting pile of peaches, grapes, pomegranates, and melons
— lovely but dangerous eating in cholera times. I touched
the lad on the shoulder."

" What ails you ? " I asked. He twisted himself convul-
sively and turned his face toward me — a beautiful face,
though livid with anguish.

"The plague, signer!" he moaned ; "the plague ! Keep
away from me, for the love of God ! I am dying ! "

I hesitated. For myself I had no fear. But my wife —
my child — for their sakes it was necessary to be prudent.
Yet I could not leave this poor boy unassisted. I resolved
to go to the harbor in search of medical aid. With this idea
in my mind I spoke cheerfully.

" Courage, my boy," I said ; " do not lose heart ! All ill-
ness is not the plague. Rest here till I return ; I am going
to fetch a doctor."

The little fellow looked at me with wondering, pathetic
eyes, and tried to smile. He pointed to his throat, and made
an effort to speak, but vainly. Then he crouched down in
the grass and writhed in torture like a hunted animal wounded
to the death. I left him and walked on rapidly ; reaching
the harbor, where the heat was sulphurous and intense, I
found a few scared-looking men standing aimlessly about,
to whom I explained the boy's case, and appealed for assist-
ance. They all hung back — none of them would accom-
pany me, not even for the gold I offered. Cursing their
cowardice, I hurried on in search of a physician, and found
one at last, a sallow Frenchman, who listened with obvious
reluctance to my account of the condition in which I had
left the little fruit-seller, and at the end shook his head
decisively, and refused to move.

" He is as good as dead," he observed, with cold brevity.
" Better call at the house of the Miserecordia ; the brethren
will fetch his body."

" What ! " I cried ; " you will not try if you can save him ? "

The Frenchman bowed with satirical suavity.

" Monsieur must pardon me ! My own health would b$
seriously endangered by touching a cholera corpse. Allon
me to wish monsieur the good-day 1 "

VENDETTA I 17

And he disappeared, shutting his door in my face. I was
thoroughly exasperated, and though the heat and the fetid
odor of the sun-baked streets made me feel faint and sick, I
forgot all danger for myself as I stood in the plague-stricken
city, wondering what I should do next to obtain succor. A
grave, kind voice saluted my ear.

" You seek aid, my son ? "

I looked up. A tall monk, whose cowl partly concealed
his pale, but resolute features, stood at my side — one of
those heroes who, for the love of Christ, came forth at that
terrible time and faced the pestilence fearlessly, where the
blatant boasters of no-religion scurried away Ifoe frightened
hares from the very scent of danger. I greeted him with an
obeisance, and explained my errand.

" I will go at once," he said, with an accent of pity in his
voice. " But I fear the worst. I have remedies with me;
I may not be too late."

" I will accompany you," I said, eagerly. " One would
not let a dog die unaided ; much less this poor lad, who
seems friendless."

The monk looked at me attentively as we walked on to-
gether.

" You are not residing in Naples ? " he asked.

I gave him my name, which he knew by repute, and de-
scribed the position of my villa.

" Up on that height we enjoy perfect health," I added.
" I cannot understand the panic that prevails in the city.
The plague is fostered by such cowardice."

" Of course ! " he answered, calmly. " But what will you ?
The people here love pleasure. Their hearts are set solely
on this life. When death, common to all, enters their midst,
they are like babes scared by a dark shadow. Religion
itself " — here he sighed deeply — " has no hold upon them."

" But you, my father," I began, and stopped abruptly, con-
scious of a sharp throbbing pain in my temples.

" I," he answered, gravely, "am the servant of Christ. As
such, the plague has no terrors for me. Unworthy as I am,
for my Master's sake I am ready — nay, willing — to face all
deaths."

He spoke firmly, yet without arrogance. I looked at him
in a certain admiration, and was about to speak, when a curi-
ous dizziness overcame me, and I caught at his arm to sav«
myself from falling. The street rocked like a ship at sea,
and the skies whirled round me in circles of blue fire. The
a

iS VENDETTA!

feeling slowly passed, and I heard the monk's voice, as
though it were a long way off, asking me anxiously what was
the matter. I forced a smile.

" It is the heat, I think," I said, in feeble tones like those
of a very aged man. I am faint — giddy. You had best
leave me here — see to the boy. Oh, my God ! "

This last exclamation was wrung out of me by sheer an-
guish. My limbs refused to support me, and a pang, cold
and bitter as though naked steel had been thrust through my
body, caused me to sink down upon the pavement in a kind
of convulsion. The tall and sinewy monk, without a moment's
hesitation, dragged me up and half carried, half led me into
a kind of auberge, or restaurant for the poorer classes. Here
he placed me in a recumbent position on one of the wooden
benches, and called up the proprietor of the place, a man to
whom he seemed to be well known. Though suffering acutely
I was conscious, and could hear and see everything that
passed.

" Attend to him well, Pietro — it is the rich Count Fabio
Romani. Thou wilt not lose by thy pains. I will return
within an hour."

" The Count Romani ! Santissima Madonna ! He has
caught the plague ! "

" Thou fool ! " exclaimed the monk, fiercely. " How canst
thou tell ? A stroke of the sun is not the plague, thou
coward ! See to him, or by St. Peter and the keys there
shall be no place for thee in heaven ! "

The trembling innkeeper looked terrified at this menace,
and submissively approached me with pillows, which he
placed under my head. The monk, meanwhile, held a glass
to my lips containing some medicinal mixture, which I swal-
lowed mechanically.

" Rest here, my son," he said, addressing me in soothing
tones. " These people are good-natured. I will but hasten
to the boy for whom you sought assistance — in less than an
hour I will be*with you again."

I laid a detaining hand on his arm.

" Stay," I murmured, feebly, " let me know the worst. Is
this the plague ? "

" I hope not ! " he replied, compassionately. " But what
if it be ? You are young and strong enough to fight against
it without fear."

" I have no fear," I said. " But, father, promise me one
thing — send no word of my illness to my wife — swear it 1

V&NDETTA1 x$

Even if I am unconscious — dead — swear that I shall not be
taken to the villa. Swear it ! I cannot rest till I have your
word."

" I swear it most willingly, my son," he answered, solemn-
ly. " By all I hold sacred, I will respect your wishes."

I was infinitely relieved — the safety of those I loved was
assured — and I thanked him by a mute gesture. I was too
weak to say more. He disappeared, and my brain wandered
into a chaos of strange fancies. Let me try to revolve these
delusions. I plainly see the interior of the common room
where I lie. There is the timid innkeeper — he polishes his
glasses and bottles, casting ever and anon a scared glance in
my direction. Groups of men look in at the door, and, see-
ing me, hurry away. I observe all this — I know where I am
— yet I am also climbing the steep passes of an Alpine gorge
— the cold snow is at my feet — I hear the rush and roar of a
thousand torrents, /icrimson cloud floats above the summit
of a white glacier — j{_ parts asunder gradually, and in its
bright center a face smiles forth ! " Nina ! my love, my wife,
my soul ! " I cry aloud. I stretch out my arms — I clasp
her! — bah ! it is this good rogue of an innkeeper who holds
me in his musty embrace ! I struggle with him fiercely —
pantingly.

" Fool !" I shriek in his ear. " Let me go to her — her
-lips pout for kisses — let me gol "

Another man advances and seizes me ; he and the inn-
keeper force me back on the pillows — they overcome me, and
the utter incapacity of a terrible exhaustion steals away my
strength. I cease to struggle. Pietro and his assistant look
down upon me.

" E morto /" they whisper one to the other.

I hear them and smile. Dead ? Not I ! The scorching
sunlight streams through the open door of the inn — the thirsty
flies buzz with persistent loudness — some voices are singing
" La Fata di Amalfi " — I can distinguish the words —

" Chiagnar6 la mia sventura
Si non tuorne chiu, Rosella !
Tu d' Amalfi la chiu bella,
Tu na Fata si pe me !
Viene, vie, regina mie,
Viene curre a chisto core,
Ca non c'e non c'e sciore,
Non c'e Stella comm' a te ! "*

* A popular soag in the Neapolitan dialect.

fO rENDETTAI

That is a true song, Nina mia / " Non SI stella comm*
What did Guido say ? " Purer than the flawless diamond-
unapproachable as the furthest star ! " That foolish Pietro
still polishes his wine-bottles. I see him — his meek round
face is greasy with heat and dust^ but I cannot understand
how he comes to be here at all, -tor I am on the banks of a
tropical river where huge palms grow wild, and drowsy alli-
gators lie asleep in the sun. Their large jaws are open —
their small eyes glitter greenly. A light boat glides over the
silent water — in it I behold the erect lithe figure of an Indian.
His features are strangely similar to those of Guido. He
draws a long thin shining blade of steel as he approaches.
Brave fellow ! — he means to attack single-handed the cruel
creatures who lie in wait for him on the sultry shore. He
springs to land — I watch him with a weird fascination. He
passes the alligators — he seems not to be aware of their pres-
ence— he comes with swift, unhesitating step to me — it is /
whom he seeks — it is in my heart that he plunges .the cold
steel dagger, and draws it out again dripping with blood !
Once — twice — thrice ! — and yet I cannot die ! I writhe —
I moan in bitter anguish ! Then something dark comes be-
tween me and the glaring sun — something cool and shadowy,
against which I fling myself despairingly. Two dark eyes
look steadily into mine, and a voice speaks :

" Be calm, my son, be calm. Commend thyself to Christ ! "

It is my friend the monk. I recognize him gladly. He

has returned from his errand of mercy. Though I can

scarcely speak, I hear myself asking for news of the boy.

The holy man crosses himself devoutly.

" May his young soul rest in peace ! I found him dead."
I am dreamily astonished at this. Dead — so soon ! I can-
not understand it ; and I drift off again into a state of con-
fused imaginings. As I look back now to that time, I find I
have no specially distinct recollection of what afterward
happened to me. I know I suffered intense, intolerable
pain — that I was literally tortured on a rack of excruciating
anguish — and that through all the delirium of my senses L
heard a muffled, melancholy sound like a chant or prayer. I
have an idea that I also heard the tinkle of the bell that
accompanies the Host, but my brain reeled more wildly with
each moment, and I cannot be certain of this. I remember
shrieking out after what seemed an eternity of pain, " Not to
the villa ! no, no, not there ! You shall not take me — my
turse on him who disobeys me 1 "

VENDETTA / ,,

I remember then a fearful sensation, as of being dragged
into a deep whirlpool, from whence I stretched up appealing
hands and eyes to the monk who stood above me — I caught
a drowning glimpse of a silver crucifix glittering before my
gaze, and at last, with one loud cry for help, I sunk — down
— down ! into an abyss of black night and nothingness 1

CHAPTER III.

THERE followed a long drowsy time of stillness and shadow.
I seemed to have fallen in some deep well of delicious oblivion
and obscurity. Dream-like images still flitted before my fancy
— these were at first undefinable, but after awhile they took
more certain shapes. Strange fluttering creatures hovered
about me — lonely eyes stared at me from a visible deep gloom ;
long white bony fingers grasping at nothing made signs to me
of warning or menace. Then — very gradually, there dawned
upon my sense of vision a cloudy red mist like a stormy sunset,
and from the middle of the blood-like haze a huge black hand
descended toward me. It pounced upon my chest — it grasped
my throat in its monstrous clutch, and held me down with a
weight of iron. I struggled violently — I strove to cry out,
but that terrific pressure took from me all power of utterance.
I twisted myself to right and left in an endeavor to escape —
but my tyrant of the sable hand had bound me in on all sides.
Yet I continued to wrestle with the cruel opposing force that
strove to overwhelm me — little by little — inch by inch — so !
At last ! One more struggle — victory ! I woke T Merciful
God ! Where was I ? In what horrible atmosphere — in what
dense darkness ? Slowly, as my senses returned to me, I re-
membered my recent illness. The monk — the man Pietro —
where were they ? What had they done to me ? By degrees,
I realized that I was lying straight down upon my back — the
couch was surely very hard ? Why had they taken the pillows
from under my head ? A pricking sensation darted through
my veins — I felt my own hands curiously — they were warm,
and my pulse beat strongly, though fitfully. But what was
this that hindered my breathing ? Air — air ! I must have
air ! I put up my hands — horror ! They struck against a
hard opposing substance above me. Quick as lightning then
the truth flashed upon my mind ! I had been buried — buried
alive j this wooden prison that inclosed me was a coffin 1 A

2S VENDETTA!

frenzy surpassing that of an infuriated tiger took swift posses-
sion of me — with hands and nails I tore and scratched at the
accursed boards — with all the force of my shoulders and arms
I toiled to wrench open the closed lid ! My efforts were fruit-
less ! I grew more ferociously mad with rage and terror. How
easy were all deaths compared to one like this ! I was suffocat-
ing— I felt my eyes start from their sockets — blood sprung
from my mouth and nostrils — and icy drops of sweat trickled
from my forehead. I paused, gasping for breath. Then, sud-
denly nerving myself for one more wild effort, I hurled my
limbs with all the force of agony and desperation against one
side of my narrow prison. It cracked — it split asunder ! — and
then — a new and horrid fear beset me, and I crouched back,
panting heavily. If — if I were buried in the ground — so ran
my ghastly thoughts — of what use to break open the coffin and
let in the mold — the damp wormy mold, rich with the bones of
the dead — the penetrating mold that would choke up my
mouth and eyes, and seal me into silence forever ! My mind
quailed at this idea — my brain tottered on the verge of mad-
ness ! I laughed — think of it ! — and my laugh sounded in my
ears like the last rattle in the throat of a dying man. But I
could breathe more easily — even in the stupefaction of my fears
— I was conscious of air. Yes ! — the blessed air had rushed in
somehow. Revived Lnd encouraged as I recognized this fact,
I felt with both hands till I found the crevice I had made, and
then with frantic haste and strength I pujjcd and dragged at
the wood, till suddenly the whole side of the coffin gave way,
and I was able to force up the lid. I stretched out my arms —
no weight of earth impeded their movements — I felt nothing
but air — empty air. Yielding to my first strong impulse, I
leaped out of the hateful box, and fell — fell some little dis-
tance, bruising my hands and knees on what seemed to be a
stone pavement. Something weighty fell also, with a dull
crashing thud close to me. The darkness was impenetrable.
But there was breathing room, and the atmosphere was cool
and refreshing. With some pain and difficulty I raised myself
to a sitting position where I had fallen. My limbs were stiff
and cramped as well as wounded, and I shivered as with strong
ague. But my senses were clear — the tangled chain of my dis-
ordered thoughts became even and connected — my previous
mad excitement gradually calmed, and I began to consider
my condition. I had certainly been buried alive — there was
no doubt of that. Intense pain had, I suppose, resolved itself
into a long trance of unconsciousness — the people of the inn

VENDETTA I 23

where I had been taken ill had at once believed me to be
dead of cholera, and with the panic-stricken, indecent haste
common in all Italy, especially at a time of plague, had
thrust me into one of those flimsy coffins which were then
being manufactured by scores in Naples — mere shells of thin
deal, nailed together with clumsy hurry and fear. But how
I blessed their wretched construction ! Had I been laid in
a stronger casket, who knows if even the most desperate
frenzy of my strength might not have proved unavailing ! I
shuddered at the thought. Yet the question remained —
Where was I ? I reviewed my case from all points, and for
some time could arrive at no satisfactory conclusion. Stay,
though ! I remembered that I had told the monk my name ;
he knew that I was the only descendant of the rich Romani
family. What followed ? Why, naturally, the good father
had only done what his duty called upon him to do. He
had seen me laid in the vault of my ancestors — the great
Romani vault that had never been opened since my father's
body was carried to its last resting-place with all the solemn
pomp and magnificence of a wealthy nobleman's funeral
obsequies. The more I thought of this the more probable it
seemed. The Romani vault ! Its forbidding gloom had ter-
rified me as a lad when I followed my father's coffin to the
stone niche assigned to it, and I had turned my eyes away in
shuddering pain when I was told to look at the heavy oaken
casket hung with tattered velvet and ornamented with tar-
nished silver, which contained all that was left of my
mother, who died young. I had felt sick and faint and
cold, and had only recovered myself when I stood out again
in the free air with the blue dome of heaven high above me.
And now I was shut in the same vault — a prisoner — with what
hope of escape ? I reflected. The entrance to the vault, I re-
membered, was barred by a heavy door of closely twisted iron
—from thence a flight of steep steps led downward — downward
to where in all probability I now was. Suppose I could in the
dense darkness feel my way to those steps and climb up to that
door — of what avail ? It was locked — nay, barred — and as it
was situated in a remote part of the burial-ground, there was
no likelihood of even the keeper of the cemetery passing by
it for days — perhaps not for weeks. Then mus.t I starve ?
Or die of thirst ? Tortured by these imaginings, I rose up
from the pavement and stood erect. My feet were bare, and
the cold stone on which I stood chilled me to the marrow
It was fortunate for me, I thought, that they had buried me

«4 VEN-DETTAt

as a cholera corpse — they had left me half-clothed for fear o!
infection. That is, I had my flannel shirt on and my usual
walking trousers. Something there was, too, round my neck ;
I felt it, and as I did so a flood of sweet and sorrowful mem-
ories rushed over me. It was a slight gold chain, and on it
hung a locket containing the portraits of my wife and child.
I drew it out in the darkness ; I covered it with passionate
kisses and tears — the first I had shed since my death-like
trance — tears scalding and bitter welled into my eyes. Life
was worth living while Nina's smile lightened the world ! I
resolved to fight for existence, no matter what dire horrors
should be yet in store for me. Nina — my love — my beauti-
ful one ! Her face gleamed out upon me in the pestilent
gloom of the charnel-house ; her eyes beckoned me — her
young faithful eyes that were now, I felt sure, drowned in
weeping for my supposed death. I seemed to see my tender-
hearted darling sobbing alone in the empty silence of the room
that had witnessed a thousand embraces between herself and
me ; her lovely hair disheveled ; her sweet face pale and hag-
gard with the bitterness of grief ! Baby Stella, too, no doubt
she would wonder, poor innocent ! why I did not come to
swing her as usual under the orange boughs. And Guido —
brave and true friend ! I thought of him with tenderness.
I felt I knew how deep and lasting would be his honest re-
gret for my loss. Oh, I would leave no means of escape un-
tried ; I would find some way out of this grim vault ! How
overjoyed they would all be to see me again — to know that I
was not dead after all ! What a welcome I should receive !
How Nina would nestle into my arms ; how my little child
would cling to me ; how Guido would clasp me by the hand !
I smiled as I pictured the scene of rejoicing at the dear old
villa — the happy home sanctified by perfect friendship and
faithful love !

A deep hollow sound booming suddenly on my ears startled
me — one ! two ! three ! I counted the strokes up to twelve.
It was some church bell tolling the hour. My pleasing fancies
dispersed — I again faced the drear reality of my position.
Twelve o'clock ! Midday or midnight ? I could not tell. I
began to calculate. It was early morning when I had been
taken ill — not much past eight when I had met the monk and
Bought his assistance for the poor little fruit-seller who had
after all perished alone in his sufferings. Now supposing my
illness had lasted some hours, I might have fallen into a trance
—died — as those around me had thought, somewhere about

VENDETTA 1 35

noon. In that case they would certainly have buried me with
as little delay as possible — before sunset at all events. Think-
ing these points over one by one, I came to the conclusion
that the bell J had just heard must have struck midnight —
the midnight of the very day of my burial. I shivered ; a
kind of nejvous dread stole over me. I have always been
physically courageous, but at the same time, in spite orniy edu-
cation, I am somewhat superstitious — what Neapolitan is not ?
it runs in the southern blood. And there was something un-
utterably fearful in the sound of that midnight bell clanging
harshly on the ears of a man pent up alive in a funeral vault
with the decaying bodies of his ancestors close within reach
of his hand ! I tried to conquer my feelings — to summon up
my fortitude. I endeavored to reason out the best method
of escape. I resolved to feel my way, if possible, to the steps
of the vault, and with this idea in my mind I put out my
hands and began to move along slowly and with the utmost
care. What was that ? I stopped ; I listened ; the blood
curdled in my veins ! A shrill cry, piercing, prolonged, and
melancholy, echoed through the hollow arches of my tomb.
A cold perspiration broke out all over my body — my heart
beat so lourl/y that I could hear it thumping against my ribs.
Again — a^ain — that weird shriek, followed by a whir and flap
of wings. I breathed again.

" It is an owl," I said to myself, ashamed of my fears ; "a
poor innocent bird — a companion and watcher of the dead,
and therefore its voice is full of sorrowful lamentation — but
it is harmless," and I crept on with increased caution. Sud-
denly out of the dense darkness there stared two large yellow
eyes, glittering with fiendish hui ger and cruelty. For a mo-
ment I was startled, and stepped back ; the creature flew at
me with the ferocity of a tiger-cat ! I fought with the horri-
ble thing in all directions ; it wheeled round my head, it
pounced toward my face, it beat me with its large wings —
wings that I could feel but not see ; the yellow eyes alone
shone in the thick gloom like the eyes of some vindictive
demon ! I struck at it right and left — the revolting combat
lasted some moments — I grew sick and dizzy, yet I battled
on recklessly. At last, thank Heaven ! the huge owl was van-
quished ; it fluttered backward and downward, apparently ex-
hausted, giving one wild screech of baffled fury, as its lamp-
like eyes disappeared in the darkness. Breathless, but not
subdued — every nerve in my body quivering with excitement
— I pursued my way, as I thought, toward the stone staircase,

r26 VENDETTA!

feeling the air with my outstretched hands as I groped along:
In a little while I met with an obstruction — it was hard and
cold — a stone wall, surely ? I felt it up and down and found
a hollow in it — was this the first step of the stair ? I
dered ; it seemed very high. I touched it cautiously — sud-
denly I came in contact with something soft and clammy to
the touch like moss or wet velvet. Fingering this with a kind
of repulsion, I soon traced out the oblong shape of a coffin
Curiously enough, I was not affected much by the discovery.
I found myself monotonously counting the bits- of raised nu-tal
which served, as I judged, for its ornamentation. Eight bits
lengthwise — and the soft wet stuff between — four bits across ;
then a pang shot through me, and I drew my hand away
quickly, as I considered — whose coffin was this ? My father's ?
Or was I thus plucking, like a man in delirium, at the frag-
ments of velvet on that cumbrous oaken casket wherein lay
the sacred ashes of my mother's perished beauty ? I roused
myself from the apathy into which I had fallen. All the pains
I had taken to find my way through the vault were wasted ;
I was lost in the profound gloom, and knew not where to turn.
The horror of my situation presented itself to me with re-
doubled force. I began to be tormented with thirst. I fell
on my knees and groaned aloud.

" God of infinite mercy ! " I cried. " Saviour of the world !
By the souls of the sacred dead whom Thou hast in Thy
holy keeping, have pity upon me ! Oh, my mother ! if in-
deed thine earthly remains are near me — think of me, sweet
angel in that heaven where thy spirit dwells at rest — plead
for me and save me, or let me die now and be tortured no
more ! "

I uttered these words aloud, and the^ sound of my wailing
voice ringing through the somber arches of the vault was
strange and full of fantastic terror to my own ears. I knew
that were my agony much further prolonged I should go
mad. And I dared not picture to myself the frightful
things which a maniac might be capable of, shut up in
such a place of death and darkness, with moldering corpses
for companions ! I remained on my knees, my face buried
in my hands. I forced myself into comparative calmness,
and strove to preserve the equilibrium of my distracted
mind. Hush ! What exquisite far-off floating voice of cheer
was that ? I raised my head and listened, entranced !

" Jug» JUS> jug ! lodola, lodola J trill-lil-lil ! sweet, sweet,
sweet}"

VENDETTA! 27

It was a nightingale. Familiar, delicious, angel-throated
bird ! How I blessed thee in that dark hour of despair !
How I praised God for thine innocent existence ! How I
sprung up and laughed and wept for joy, as, all unconscious
of me, thou didst shake out a shower of pearly warblings on
the breast of the soothed air I Heavenly messenger of con-
solation ! — even now I think of thee with tenderness — for thy
sweet sake all birds possess me as their worshiper ; humanity
has grown hideous in my sight, but the singing-life of the
woods and hills — how pure, how fresh ! — the nearest thing
to happiness on this side heaven !

A rush of strength and courage invigorated me. A new
idea entered my brain. I determined to follow the voice
of the nightingale. It sung on sweetly, encouragingly —
and I began afresh my journeyings through the darkness.
I fancied that the bird was perched on one of the trees out-
side the entrance of the vault, and that if I tried to get
within closer hearing of its voice, I should most likely be
thus guided to the very staircase I had been so painfully
seeking. I stumbled along slowly. I felt feeble, and my
limbs shook under me. This time nothing impeded my
progress ; the nightingale's liquid notes floated nearer and
nearer, and hope, almost exhausted, sprung up again in my
heart. I was scarcely conscious of my own movements. I
seemed to be drawn along like one in a dream by the golden
thread of the bird's sweet singing. All at once I caught my
foot against a stone and fell forward with some force, but I
felt no pain — my limbs were too numb to be sensible of any
fresh suffering. I raised my heavy, aching eyes in the dark-
ness ; as I did so I uttered an exclamation of thanksgiving.
A slender stream of moonlight, no thicker than the stem of
an arrow, slanted downward toward me, and showed me
that I had at last reached the spot I sought — in fact, I had
fallen upon the lowest step of the stone stairway. I could not
distinguish the entrance door of the vault, but I knew that it
must be at the summit of the steep ascent. I was too weary
to move further just then. I lay still where I was, staring at
the solitary moon-ray, and listening to the nightingale, whose
rapturous melodies now rang out upon my ears with full dis-
tinctness. One! The harsh-toned bell I had heard before
clanged forth the hour. It would soon be morning ; I re-
solved to rest till then. Utterly worn out in body and mind,
I laid down my head upon the cold stones as readily as if

28 VENDETTA!

they had been the softest cushions, and in a few moments

forgot all my miseries in a profound sleep.

** * * * * *

I must have slumbered for some time, when I was suddenly
awakened by a suffocating sensation of faintness and nausea,
accompanied by a sharp pain on my neck as though some
creatures were stinging me. I put my hand up to the place
— God ! shall I ever forget the feel of the Thing my trem-
bling fingers closed upon ! It was fastened in my flesh — a
winged, clammy, breathing horror ! It clung to me with a
loathly persistency that nearly drove me frantic, and wild
with disgust and terror I screamed aloud ! I closed both
hands convulsively upon its fat, soft body — I literally tore it
from my flesh and flung it as far back as I could into the
interior blackness of the vault. For a time I believe I was
indeed mad — the echoes rang with the piercing shrieks I
could not restrain ! Silent at last through sheer exhaustion
I glared about me. The moonbeam had vanished ; in its
place lay a shaft of pale gray light, by which I could easily
distinguish the whole length of the staircase and the closed
gateway at its summit. I rushed up the ascent with the
feverish haste of a madman — I grasped the iron grating with
both hands and shook it fiercely. It was firm as a r
locked fast. I called for help. Utter silence answered me.
I peered through the closely twisted bars. I saw the grass,
the drooping boughs of trees, and straight before my line of
vision a little piece of the blessed sky, opal-tinted and faintly
blushing with the consciousness of the approaching sunrise.
I drank in the sweet fresh air; a long trailing branch of the
wild grape vine hung near me ; its leaves were covered thickly
with dew. I squeezed one hand through the grating and
gathered a few of these green morsels of coolness — I ate
them greedily. They seemed to me more delicious than any-
thing I had ever tasted ; they relieved the burning fever of
my parched throat and tongue. The glimpse of the trees
and sky soothed and calmed me. There was a gentle twit-
tering of awaking birds ; my nightingale had ceased singing.

I began to recover slowly from my nervous terrors, and
leaning against the gloomy arch of my charnel-house I took
courage to glance backward down the steep stairway
up which I had sprung with such furious precipitation.
Something white lay in a corner on the seventh step from the
top. Curious to see what it was, I descended cautiously,
and with some reluctance ; it was the half of a thick waxen

VENDETTA! 29

taper, such as are used in the Catholic ritual at the burial of
the dead. No doubt it had been thrown down there by some
careless acolyte, to save himself the trouble of carrying it
after the service had ended. I looked at it meditatively. If
I only had a light ! I plunged my hands half abstractedly
into the pockets of my trousers — something jingled ! Truly
they had buried me in haste. My purse, a small bunch of
keys, my card-case — one by one I drew them out and
examined them surprisedly — they looked so familiar, and
withal so strange ! I searched again ; and this time found
something of real value to one in my condition — a small box
of wax vestas. Now, had they left me my cigar-case ? No,
that was gone. It was a valuable silver one — no doubt the
monk, who attended my supposed last moments, had taken
it, together with my watch and chain, to my wife.

Well, I could not smoke, but I could strike a light. And
there was the funeral taper ready for use. The sun had not
yet risen. I must certainly wait till broad day before I could
hope to attract by my shouts any stray person who might pass
through the cemetery. Meanwhile, a fantastic idea suggested
itself. I would go and look at my own coffin ! Why not ?
It would be a novel experience. The sense of fear had
entirely deserted me ; the possession of that box of matches
was sufficient to endow me with absolute hardihood. I
picked up the church-candle and lighted it; it gave at first a
feeble flicker, but afterward burned with a clear and steady
flame. Shading it with one hand from the draught, I gave a
parting glance at the fair daylight that peeped smilingly in
through my prison door, and then went down — down again
into the dismal place where I had passed the night in such
indescribable agony.

CHAPTER IV.

NUMBERS of lizards glided away from my feet as I de-
scended the steps, and when the flare of my torch penetrated
the darkness I heard a scurrying of wings mingled with
various hissing sounds and wild cries. I knew now — none
better — what weird and abominable things had habitation in
this storehouse of the dead, but I felt I could defy them all,
armed with the light I carried. The way that had seemed
90 long in the dense gloom was brief and easy, and I soon
found myself at the scene of my unexpected awakening from

30 VENDETTA t

sleep. The actual body of the vault was square-shaped, like
a small room inclosed within high walls — walls which wrr<j
scooped out in various places so as to form niches in which
the narrow caskets containing the bones of all the departed
members of the Roman! family were placed one above the
other like so many bales of goods arranged evenly on the
shelves of an ordinary warehouse. I held the candle high
above my head and looked about me with a morbid interest.
I soon perceived what I sought — my own coffin.

There it was in a niche some five feet from the ground, its
splintered portions bearing decided witness to the dreadful
struggle I had made to obtain my freedom. I advanced and
examined it closely. It was a frail shell enough — unlined,
unornamented — a wretched sample of the undertaker's art,
though God knows /had no fault to find with its workman-
ship, nor with the haste of him who fashioned it. Something
shone at the bottom of it — it was a crucifix of ebony and sil-
ver. That good monk again ! His conscience had not allowed
him to see me buried without this sacred symbol ; he had per-
haps laid it on my breast as the last service he could render
me ; it had fallen from thence, no doubt, when I had wrenched
my way through the boards that inclosed me. I took it and
kissed it reverently — I resolved that if ever I met the holy
father again, I would tell him my story, and, as a proof of its
truth, restore to him this cross, which he would be sure to
recognize. Had they put my name on the coffin-lid ? I won-
dered. Yes, there it was — painted on the wood in coarse,
black letters, " FABIO ROMANI " — then followed the date of
my birth ; then a short Latin inscription, stating that I had
died of cholera on August 15, 1884. That was yesterday —
only yesterday ! I seemed to have lived a century since then.

I turned to look at my father's resting-place. The velvet
on his coffin hung from its sides in moldering remnants — but
it was not so utterly damp-destroyed and worm-eaten as the
soaked and indistinguishable material that still clung to the
massive oaken chest in the next niche, where she lay — she from
whose tender arms I had received my first embrace — she in
whose loving eyes I had first beheld the world ! I knew by a
sort of instinct that it must have been with the frayed frag-
ments on her coffin that my fingers had idly played in the dark-
ness. I counted as before the bits of metal — eight bits length-
wise, and four bits across — and on my father's close casket
there were ten silver plates lengthwise and five across. My
poor little mother ! I thought of her picture — it hung in my

VENDETTA! ji

library at home ; the picture of a young, smiling, dark-haired
beauty, whose delicate tint was as that of a peach ripening in
the summer sun. All that loveliness had decayed into —
what ? I shuddered involuntarily — then I knelt humbly before
those two sad hollows in the cold stone, and implored the bless-
ing of the dead and gone beloved ones to whom, while they
lived, my welfare had been dear. While I occupied this kneel-
ing position the flame of my torch fell directly on some small
object that glittered with remarkable luster. I went to exam-
ine it ; it was a jeweled pendant composed of one large pear-
shaped pearl, set round with fine rose brilliants ! Surprised at
this discovery, I looked about to see where such a valuable
gem could possible have come from. I then noticed an unusu-
ally large coffin lying sideways on the ground ; it appeared as
if it had fallen suddenly and with force, for a number of loose
stones and mortar were sprinkled near it. Holding the light
close to the ground, I observed that a niche exactly below the
one in which /had been laid was empty, and that a consider-
able portion of the wall there was broken away. I then re*
membered that when I had sprung so desperately out of my
narrow box I had heard something fall with a crash beside me-
This was the thing, then — this long coffin, big enough to con-
tain a man seven feet high and broad in proportion. What
gigantic ancestor had I irreverently dislodged ? — and was it
from a skeleton throat that the rare jewel which I held in my
hand had been accidentally shaken ?

My curiosity was excited, and I bent close to examine the lid
of this funeral chest. There was no name on it — no mark of
any sort, save one — a dagger roughly painted in red. Here
was a mystery ! I resolved to penetrate it. I set up my can-
dle in a little crevice of one of the empty niches, and laid the
pearl and diamond pendant beside it, thus disembarrassing
myself of all incumbrance. The huge coffin lay on its side, as
I have said ; its uppermost corner was splintered ; I applied
both hands to the work of breaking further asunder these
already split portions. As I did so a leathern pouch or bag
rolled out and fell at my feet. I picked it up and opened it— ^
it was full of gold pieces ! More excited than ever, I seized a
large pointed stone, and by the aid of this extemporized instru-
ment, together with the force of my own arms, hands, and feet,
I managed, after some ten minutes' hard labor, to break open
the mysterious casket.

When I had accomplished this deed I stared at the result
like a man stupefied. No moldering horror met my gaze — no

3* VENDETTA!

blanched or decaying bones ; no grinning skull mocked me
with its hollow eye-sockets. I looked upon a treasure
worthy of an emperor's envy ! The big coffin was literally
lined and packed with incalculable wealth. Fifty large
leathern bags tied with coarse cord lay uppermost ; more
than half of these were crammed with gold coins, the rest
were full of priceless gems — necklaces, tiaras, bracelets,
watches, chains, and other articles of feminine adornment
were mingled with loose precious stones — diamonds, rubies,
emeralds, and opals, some of unusual size and luster, some
uncut, and some all ready for the jeweler's setting. Beneath
these bags were packed a number of pieces of silk, velvet,
and cloth of gold, each piece being wrapped by itself in a
sort of oil-skin, strongly perfumed with camphor and other
spices. There were also three lengths of old lace, fine as
gossamer, of matchless artistic design, in perfect condition.
Among these materials lay two large trays of solid gold work-
manship, most exquisitely engraved and ornamented, also
four gold drinking-cups, of quaint and massive construction.
Other valuables and curious trifles there were, such as an
ivory statuette of Psyche on a silver pedestal, a waistband of
coins linked together, a painted fan with a handle set in
amber and turquois, a fine steel dagger in a jeweled sheath,
and a mirror framed in old pearls. Last, but not least, at
the very bottom of the chest lay rolls upon rolls of paper money
amounting to some millions of francs — in all far surpassing
what I had myself formerly enjoyed from my own revenues.
I plunged my hands deep in the leathern bags ; I fingered
the rich materials ; all this treasure was mine/ I had found
it in my own burial vault ! I had surely the right to consider
it as my property ? I began to consider — how could it have
been placed there without my knowledge ? The answer to
this question occurred to me at once. Brigands ! Of course !
— what a fool I was not to have thought of them before ;
the dagger painted on the lid of the chest should have guided
me to the solution of the mystery. A red dagger was the
recognized sign-manual of a bold and dangerous brigand
named Carmelo Neri, who, with his reckless gang, haunted
the vicinity of Palermo.

" So ! " I thought, " this is one of your bright ideas, my
cut-throat Carmelo ! Cunning rogue ! you calculated well —
you thought that none would disturb the dead, much less
break open a coffin in search of gold. Admirably planned,
my Carmelo ! But this time you must play a losing game 1

VENDETTAf 33

A supposed dead man coming to life again deserves some-
thing for his trouble, and I should be a fool not vo accept the
goods the gods and the robbers provide. An ill-gotten hoard
of wealth, no doubt ; but better in my hands than in yours,
friend Carmelo ! "

And I meditated for some minutes on this strange affair.
If, indeed — and I saw no reason to doubt it — I had chanced
to find some of the spoils of the redoubtable Neri, this great
chest must have been brought over by sea from Palermo.
Probably four stout rascals had carried the supposed coffin
in a mock solemn procession, under the pretense of its con-
taining the body of a comrade. These thieves have a high
sense of humor. Yet the question remained to be solved —
How had they gained access to my ancestral vault, unless by
means of a false key ? All at once I was left in darkness.
My candle went out as though blown upon by a gust of air.
I had my matches, and of course could easily light it again,
but I was puzzled to imagine the cause of its sudden extinc-
tion. I looked about me in the temporary gloom and saw,
to my surprise, a ray of light proceeding from a corner of the
very niche where I had fixed the candle between two stones.
I approached and put my hand to the place ; a strong draught
blew throught a hole large enough to admit the passage of
three fingers. I quickly relighted my torch, and examining
this hole and the back of the niche attentively, found that
four blocks of granite in the wall had been removed and
their places supplied by thick square logs cut from the trunks
of trees- These logs were quite loosely fitted. I took them
out easily one by one, and then came upon a close pile of
brushwood. As I gradually cleared this away a large aper-
ture disclosed itself wide enough for any man to pass through
without trouble. My heart beat with the rapture of expected
liberty ; I clambered up — I looked — thank God ! I saw the
landscape — the sky ! In two minutes I stood outside the
vault on the soft grass, with the high arch of heaven above
me, and the broad Bay of Naples glittering deliciously bofore
my eyes ! I clapped my hands and shouted for pure joy ! I
was free ! Free to return to life, to love, to the arms of my
beautiful Nina — free to resume the pleasant course of exist-
ence on the gladsome earth — free to forget, if I could, the
gloomy horrors of my premature burial. If Carmelo Neri
had heard the blessings I heaped upon his head — he would
for once have deemed himself a saint rather than a brigand.
What did I not owe to the glorious ruffian 1 Fortune and
3

34 VENDETTA!

freedom ! for it was evident that this secret passage into the
Romani vault had been cunningly contrived by himself or his
followers for their own private purposes. Seldom has any man
been more grateful to his best benefactor than 1 was to the
famous thief upon whose grim head, as I knew, a price had
been set for many months. The poor wretch was in hiding.
Well ! the authorities should get no aid from me, I resolved ;
even if I were to discover his whereabouts. Why should I
betray him ? He had unconsciously done more for me than
my best friend. Nay, what friends will you find at all in the
world when you need substantial good ? Few, or none.
Touch the purse — test the heart !

What castles in the air I built as I stood rejoicing in the
morning light and my newly acquired liberty — what dreams
of perfect happiness flitted radiantly before my fancy 1 Nina
and I would love each other more fondly than before, I
thought — our separation had been brief, but terrible — and
the idea of what it might have/ been would endear us to one
another with tenfold fervor. v And little Stella ! Why — this
very evening I would swing her again under the orange
boughs and listen to her sweet shrill laughter ! This very
evening I would clasp Guide's hand in a gladness too great
for words ! This very night my wife's fair head would lie
'pillowed on my breast in an ecstatic silence broken only by the
music of kisses. Ah ! my brain grew dizzy with the joyful
visions that crowded thickly and dazzlingly upon me ! The
sun had risen — his long straight beams, like golden spears,
touched the tops of the green trees, and roused little flashes
as of red and blue fire on the shining surface of the bay. I
heard the rippling of water and the measured soft dash of
oars ; and somewhere from a distant boat the mellifluous
voice of a sailor sung a verse of the popular riiorndlo —

" Sciore cT amenta
Sta parolella mia tieu? ammento

Zompa llarl lliral
Sciore I i, none !
Le vo^liofa mort de fas stone

Zompa llarl lli> a I"*

I smiled — " Mori depassionef" Nina and I would know
the meaning of those sweet words when the moon rose and
the nightingales sung their love-songs to the dreaming flowers !
Full of these happy fancies, I inhaled the pure morning ait
for some minutes, and then re-entered the vault.

* Neapolitan diatecU

VENDMTTAl 35

CHAPTER V.

THE first thing I did was to repack all the treasures I had
discovered. This work was easily accomplished. For the
present I contented myself with taking two of the leathern
bags for my own use, one full of gold pieces, the other of
jewels. The chest had been strongly made, and was not
much injured by being forced open. I closed its lid as tight-
ly as possible, and dragged it to a remote and dark corner of
the vault, where I placed three heavy stones upon it. I then
took the two leathern pouches I had selected, and stuffed
one in each of the pockets of my trousers. The action
reminded me of the scantiness of attire in which I stood
arrayed. Could I be seen in the public roads in such a
plight ? I examined my purse, which, as I before stated, had
been left to me, together with my keys and card-case, by the
terrified persons who had huddled me into my coffin with
such scant ceremony. It contained two twenty-franc pieces
and some loose silver. Enough to buy a decent costume of
some sort. But where could I make the purchase, and how ?
Must I wait till evening and slink out of this charnel-house
like the ghost of a wretched criminal ? No ! come what
would, I made up my mind not to linger a moment longer
in the vault. The swarms of beggars that infest Naples
exhibit themselves in every condition of rags, dirt, and
misery ; at the very worst I could only be taken for one of
them. And whatever difficulties I might encounter, no mat-
ter ! — they would soon be over.

Satisfied that I had placed the brigand coffin in a safe
position, I secured the pearl and diamond pendant I had
first found, to the chain round my neck. I intended this
ornament as a gift for my wife. Then, once* more climbing
through the aperture, I closed it completely with the
logs and brushwood as it was before, and examining it narrow-
ly from the outside, I saw that it was utterly impossible to
discern the smallest hint of any entrance to a subterranean
passage, so well and cunningly had it been contrived. Now,
nothing more remained for me to do but to make the best
of my way to the city, there to declare my identity, obtain
food and clothes, and then to hasten with all possible speed
to rny own residence,

Standing on a little hillock, I looked about me to see which

36 VENDETTA t

direction I should take. The cemetery was situated on the
outskirts of Naples — Naples itself lay on my left hand. I
perceived a sloping road winding in that direction, and
judged that if I followed it it would lead me to the city sub-
urbs. Without further hesitation I commenced my walk.
It was now full day. My bare feet sunk deep in the dust that
was hot as desert sand — the blazing sun beat down fiercely
on my uncovered head, but I felt none of these discomforts ;
my heart was too full of gladness. I could have sung aloud
for delight as I stepped swiftly along toward home — and Nina !
I was aware of a great weakness in my limbs — my eyes and
head ached with the strong dazzling light ; occasionally, too,
an icy shiver ran through me that made my teeth chatter.
But 1 recognized these symptoms as the after effects of my
so nearly fatal illness, and I paid no heed to them. A few
weeks' rest under my wife's loving care, and I knew I should
be as well as ever. I stepped on bravely. For some time j
met no one, but at last I overtook a small cart laden with
freshly gathered grapes. The driver lay on his seat asleep ;
his pony meanwhile cropped the green herbage by the road-
side, and every now and then shook the jingling bells on his
harness as though expressing the satisfaction he felt at being
left to his own devices. The piled-un grapes looked tempt-
ing, and I was both hungry and thrsty. I laid a hand on
the sleeping man's shoulder ; he awoke with a start. See-
ing me, his face assumed an expression of the wildest terror ;
he jumped from his cart and sunk down on his knees in the
dust, imploring me by the Madonna, St. Joseph, and all the
saints to spare his life. I laughed ; his fears seemed to me
ludicrous. Surely there was nothing alarming about me be-
yond my paucity of clothing.

"Get up, man!" I said. "I want nothing of you but a
few grapes, and for them I will pay." And I held out to
him a couple of francs. He rose from the dust, still trem-
bling and eying me askance with evident suspicion, took sev-
eral bunches of the purple fruit, and gave them to me without
saying a word. Then, pocketing the money I proffered, he
sprung into his cart, and lashing his pony till the unfortunate
animal plunged and reared with pain and fury, rattled off
down the road at such a break-neck speed that I saw noth-
ing but a whirling blot of wheels disappearing in the distance.
I was amused at the absurdity of this man's terror. What
did he take me for, I wondered ? A ghost or a brigand ? I
ate my grapes leisurely as I walked along — they were deli-

r END ETTA f 37

ciously cool and refreshing — food and wine in one. I met
several other persons as I neared the city, market people and
venders of ices — but they took no note of me — in fact, I
avoided them all as much as possible. On reaching the
surburbs I turned into the first street I saw that seemed
likely to contain a few shops. It was close and dark and
foul-smelling, but I had not gone far down it when I came
upon the sort of place I sought — a wretched tumble-down
hovel, with a partly broken window, through which a shabby
array of second-hand garments were to be dimly perceived,
strung up for show on pieces of coarse twine. Ic was one
of those dirty dens, where sailors, returning from long voy-
ages, frequently go to dispose of the various trifles they have
picked up in foreign countries, so that among the forlorn
specimens of second-hand wearing apparel many quaint and
curious objects were to be seen, such as shells, branches of
rough coral, strings of beads, cups and dishes carved out of
cocoa-nut, dried gourds, horns of animals, fans, stu-ffed para-
keets, and old coins — while a grotesque wooden idol peered
hideously forth from between the stretched-out portions of a
pair of old nankeen trousers, as though surveying the miscel-
laneous collection in idiotic amazement. An aged man sat
smoking at the open door of this promising habitation — a
true specimen of a Neapolitan grown old. The skin of his
face was like a piece of brown parchment scored all over with
deep furrows and wrinkles, as though Time, disapproving of
the history he had himself penned upon it, had scratched
over and blotted out all records, so that no one should hence-
forth be able to read what had once been clear writing. The
only animation left in him seemed to have concentrated itself
in his eyes, which were black and bead-like, and roved hither
and thither with a glance of ever-restless and ever-suspicious
inquiry. He saw me coming toward him, but he pretended
to be absorbed in a profound study of the patch of blue sky
that gleamed between the closely leaning houses of the nar-
row street. I accosted him — and he brought his gaze
swiftly down to my level, and stared at me with keen inquisi-
tiveness.

" I have had a long tramp," I said, briefly, for he was not
the iind of man to whom I could explain my recent terrible
adventure, " and I have lost some of my clothes by an acci-
dent on the way. Can you sell me a suit ? Anything will
do — I am not particular."

The old man took his pipe irpm his mouth.

38 VENDETTA!

" Do you fear the plague ? " he asked.

" I have just recovered from an attack of it," I replied,
coolly.

He looked at me attentively from head to foot, and then
broke into a low chuckling laugh.

" Ha ! ha ! " he muttered, half to himself, half to me.
" Good — good ! Here is one like myself — not afraid — not
afraid I We are not cowards. We do not find fault with
the blessed saints — they send the. plague. The beautiful
plague ! — I love it ! I buy all the clothes I can get that are
taken from the corpses — they are nearly always excellent
clothes. I never clean them — I sell them again at once — yes
— yes! Why not? The people must die — the sooner the
better ! I help the good God as much as I can." And the
old blasphemer crossed himself devoutly.

I looked down upon him from where I stood drawn up to
my full height, with a glance of disgust. He filled me with
something of the same repulsion I had felt when I touched
the unnameable Thing that fastened on my neck while I
slept in the vault.

" Come 1 " I said, somewhat roughly, " will you sell me a
suit or no ? "

" Yes, yes ! " and he rose stiffly from his seat ; he was very
short of stature, and so bent with age and infirmity that he
looked more like the crooked bough of a tree than a man, as
he hobbled before me into his dark shop. " Come inside,
come inside ! Take your choice ; there is enough here to
suit all tastes. See now, what would you ? Behold here the
dress of a gentleman, ah ! what beautiful cloth, what strong
wool ! English make ? Yes, yes ! He was English that
wore it ; a big, strong milord, that drank beer and brandy
like water — and rich — just heaven! — how rich! But the
plague took him ; he died cursing God, and calling bravely
for more brandy. Ha, ha ! a fine death — a splendid death I
His landlord sold me his clothes for three francs — one, two,
three — but you must give me six; that is fair profit, is it not?
And I am old and poor. I must make something to live upon."

I threw aside the tweed suit he displayed for my inspec-
tion. " Nay," I said, " I care nothing for the plague, but
find me something better than the cast-off clothing of a
brandy-soaked Englishman. I would rather wear the motley
garb of a fellow who played the fool in carnival."

The old dealer laughed with a crackling sound in his with'
cred throat, like the rattling of stonos in a tin pot.

VENDETTA / 59

" Good, good ! " he croaked. " I like that, I like that !
Thou art old, but thou art merry. That pleases me ; one
should laugh always. Why not ? Death laughs ; you never
see a solemn skull ; it laughs always ! "

And he plunged his long lean ringers into a deep drawer
full of miscellaneous garments, mumbling to himself all the
while. I stood beside him in silence, pondering on his words,
" Thou art old, but merry." What did he mean by calling
me old ? He must be blind, I thought, or in his dotage.
Suddenly he looked up.

" Talking of the plague," he said, " it is not always wise.
It did a foolish thing yesterday — a very foolish thing. It
took one of the richest men in the neighborhood, young too,
strong and brave ; looked as if he would never die. The
plague touched him in the morning — before sunset he was
nailed up and put down in his big family vault — a cold lodg-
ing, and less handsomely furnished than his grand marble
villa on the heights yonder. When I heard the news I told
the Madonna she was wicked. Oh, yes ! I rated her soundly ;
she is a woman, and capricious ; a good scolding brings her to
reason. Look you ! I am a friend to God and the plague,
but they both did a stupid thing when they took Count Fabio
Romani."

I started, but quickly controlled myself into an appearance
of indifference.

" Indeed ! " I said, carelessly. " And pray who was he
that he should not deserve to die as well as other peo-
ple?"

The old man raised himself from his stooping attitude,
and stared at me with his keen black eyes.

" Who was he ? who was he ? " he cried, in a shrill tone.
" Oh, he ! One can see you know nothing of Naples. You
have not heard of the rich Romani ? See you, I wished him
to live. He was clever and bold, but I did not grudge him
that — no, he was good to the poor ; he gave away hundreds
of francs in charity. I have seen him often — I saw him mar-
ried." And here his parchment face screwed itself into
an expression of the most malignant cruelty. " Pah ! I
hate his wife — a fair, soft thing, like a white snake ! I used
to watch them both from the corners of the streets as they
drove along in their fine carriage, and I wondered how it
would all end, whether he or she would gain the victory first.
I wanted him to win ; I would have helped him to kill her,
yes ! But the saints have made a mistake this time, for he

40 VENDETTA!

is dead, and that she-devil has all. Oh, yes I God and the
plague have .done a foolish thing for once."

I listened to the old wretch with deepening aversion, yet
with some curiosity too. Why should he hate my wife ? I
thought, unless, indeed, he hated all youth and beauty, as
was probably the case. And if he had seen me as often as
he averred he must know me by sight. How was it then
that he did not recognize me now ? Following out this
thought, I said aloud :

" What sort of looking man was this Count Romani ? You
say he was handsome — was he tall or short — dark or fair ? "

Putting back his straggling gray locks from his forehead, the
dealer stretched out a yellow, claw-like hand, as though
pointing to some distant vision.

" A beautiful man ! " he exclaimed ; " a man good for the
eyes to see ! As straight as you are ! — as tall as you are ! —
as broad as you are ! But your eyes are sunken and dim^
his were full and large and sparkling. Your face is drawn
and pale — his was of a clear olive tint, round and flushed with
health ; and his hair was glossy black — ah ! as jet-black, my
friend, as yours is snow-white ! "

I recoiled from these last words in a sort of terror ; they were
like an electric shock ! Was I indeed so changed ? Was it
possible that the horrors of a night in the vault had made
such a dire impression upon me ? My hair white ? — mine I I
could hardly believe it. If so, perhaps Nina would not rec-
ognize me — she might be terrified at my aspect — Guido
himself might have doubts of my identity. Though, for that
matter, I could easily prove myself to be indeed Fabio
Romani — even if I had to show the vault and my own sun-
dered coffin. While I revolved all this in my mind the old man,
unconscious of my emotion, went on with his mumbling chatter.

" Ah, yes, yes ! He was a fine fellow — a strong fellow. I
used to rejoice that he was so strong. He could have taken
the little throat of his wife between finger and thumb aad
nipped it — so ! and she would have told no more lies. I
wanted him to do it — I waited for it. He would have done
it surely, had he lived. That is why I am sorry he died."

Mastering my feelings by a violent effort, I forced myself
to speak calmly to this malignant old brute.

" Why do you hate the Countess Romani so much ? " I
asked him with sternness. " Has she done you any harm ? "

He straightened himself as much, &> k% was able and looked
gie full in the eyes,

VENDETTA ! 41

" See you ! * he answered, with a sort of leering laugh
about the corners of his wicked mouth. " I will tell you why
I hate her — yes — I will tell you, because you are a man and
strong. I like strong men — they are sometimes fooled by
women, it is true — but then they can take revenge. I was
strong myself once. And you — you are old — but you love a
jest — you will understand The Romani woman has done
me no harm. She laughed — once. That was when her
horses knocked me down in the street. I was hurt — but I
saw her red lips widen and her white teeth glitter — she has
a baby smile — the people will tell you — so innocent ! I was
picked up — her carriage drove on — her husband was not with
her — he would have acted differently. But it is no matter —
I tell you she laughed — and then I saw at once the likeness."

" The likness ! " I exclaimed impatiently, for his story an-
noyed me. " What likeness ? "

" Between her and my wife," the dealer replied, fixing his
cruel eyes upon me with increasing intensity of regard. " Oh,
yes ! I know what love is. I know too that God had very
little to do with the making of women. It was a long time
before even He could find the Madonna. Yes — yes, I know !
I tell you I married a thing as beautiful as a morning in
spring-time — with a little head that seemed to droop like a
flower under its weight of sunbeam hair — and eyes ! ah — like
those of a tiny child when it looks up and asks you for kisses.
M! was absent once — I returned and found her sleeping tran-
quilly— yes ! on the breast of a black-browed street-singer
from Venice — a handsome lad enough and brave as a young
lion. He saw me and sprung at my throat-*— Hield him down
and knelt upon his chest — she woke and gazed upon us, too
terrified to speak or scream — she only shivered and made a
little moaning sound like that of a spoiled baby. I looked
down into her prostrate lover's eyes and smiled. * I will
not hurt you/ I said. * Had she not consented, you could
not have gained the victory. All I ask of you is to remain
here for a few moments longer.' He stared, but was mute.
I bound him hand and foot so that he could not stir. Then
I took my knife and went to her. Her blue eyes glared wide
— imploringly she turned them upon me — and ever she wrung
her small hands and shivered and moaned. I plunged the
keen bright blade deep through her soft white flesh — her
lover cried out in agony — her heart's blood welled up in a
crimson tide, staining with a bright hue the white garments,
she wore ; she flung up her arms — she sank back 08 k$r pil*

4t

lows — dead. I drew the knife from her body, and with it
cut the bonds of the Venetian boy. I then gave it to him.

"'Take it as a remembrance of her,' I said. 'In a
month she would have betrayed you as she betrayed me. ' '

He raged like a madman. He rushed out and called the
gendarmes. Of course I was tried for murder — but it \\.is
not murder — it was justice. The judge found extenuating cir-
cumstances. Naturally! He had a wife of his own. He
understood my case. Now you know why I hate that dainty
jeweled woman up at the Villa Romani. She is just like that
other one — that creature I slew — she has just the same slow
smile and the same child-like eyes. I tell you again, I am
sorry her husband is dead — it vexes me sorely to think of it.
For he would have killed her in time — yes ! — of that I am
quite sure ! "

CHAPTER VI.

I LISTENED to his narrative with a pained feeling at my
heart, and a shuddering sensation as of icy cold ran through
my veins. Why, I had fancied that all who beheld Nina
must, perforce, love and admire her. True, when this old
man was accidentally knocked down by her horses (a cir-
cumstance she had never mentioned to me), it was careless
of her not to stop and make inquiry as to the extent of his
injuries, but she was young and thoughtless ; she could not
be intentionally heartless. I was horrified to think that she
should have made such an enemy as even this aged and
poverty-stricken wretch ; but I said nothing. I had no wish
to betray myself. He waited for me to speak and grew im-
patient at my silence.

" Say now, my friend ! " he queried, with a sort of childish
eagerness, " did I not take a good vengeance ? God himself
could not have done better ! "

" I think your wife deserved her fate," I said, curtly, " but
I cannot say I admire you for being her murderer."

He turned upon me rapidly, throwing both hands above
his head with a frantic gesticulation. His voice rose to a
kind of muffled shriek.

" Murderer you call me — ha ! ha ! that is good. No, no !
She murdered me I I tell you I died when I saw her asleep
in her lover's arms — she killed me at one blow. A devil
rose up in my body and took swif.t revenge ; that devil is in

VENDETTA! 4$

me now, a brave devil, a strong devil ! That is why I do not
fear the plague ; the devil in me frightens away death. Some
day it will leave me " — here his smothered yell sunk gradually
to a feeble, weary tone ; "yes, it will leave me and I shall
find a dark place where I can sleep ; I do not sleep much
now." He eyed me half wistfully.

" You see," he explained, almost gently, " my memory is
very good, and when one thinks of many things one cannot
sleep. It is many years ago, but every night I see her ; she
comes to me wringing her little white hands, her blue eyes
stare, I hear short moans of terror. Every night, every
night ! " He paused, and passed his hands in a bewildered
way across his forehead. Then, like a man suddenly wak-
ing from sleep, he stared as though he saw me now for the
first time, and broke into a low chuckling laugh.

" What a thing, what a thing it is, the memory ! " he mut-
tered. " Strange — strange ! See, I remembered all that,
and forgot you ! But I know what you want — a suit of
clothes — yes, you need them badly, and I also need the
money for them. Ha, ha ! And you will not have the fine
coat of Milord Inglese ! No, no ! I understand. I will find
you something — patience, patience ! "

And he began to grope among a number of things that
were thrown in a confused heap at the back of the shop.
While in this attitude he looked so gaunt and grim that he
reminded me of an aged vulture stooping over carrion, and
yet there was something pitiable about him too. In a way I
was sorry for him ; a poor half-witted wretch, whose life had
been full of such gall and wormwood. What a different fate
was his to .mine, I thought, /had endured but one short
night of agony ; how trifling it seemed compared to his
hourly remorse and suffering ! He hated Nina for an act of
thoughtlessness ; well, no doubt she was not the only woman
whose existence annoyed him ; it was most probable that he
was at enmity with all women. I watched him pityingly as
he searched among the worn-out garments which were his
stock-in-trade, and wondered why Death, so active in smiting
down the strongest in the city, should have thus cruelly
passed by this forlorn wreck of human misery, for whom the
grave would have surely been a most welcome release and
rest. He turned round at last with an exulting gesture.

" I have found it ! " he exclaimed. " The very thing to
suit you. You are perhaps a coral-fisher ? You will like a
fisherman's dress, Here is one, red sash, cap and all, in

44 VENDETTA!

beautiful condition ! He that wore it was about you!
height ; it will fit you as well as it fitted him ; and, look you i
the plague is not in it ; the sea has soaked through and
through it ; it smells of the sand and weed."

He spread out the rough garb before me. I glanced at it
carelessly.

" Did the former wearer kill his wife? " I asked, with a
slight smile.

The old rag-picker shook his head and made a sign with
his outspread fingers expressive of contempt.

" Not he !— He was a fool. He killed himself."

" How was that ? By accident or design ? "

" CJti ! Che / He knew very well what he was doing. It
happened only two months since. It was for the sake of a
black-ey/d jade; she lives and laughs all daylong up at Sor-
rento. \JilQ had been on a long voyage ; he brought her
pearls for her throat and coral pins for her hair. She had
promised to marry him. He had just landed ; he met her
on the quay ; he offered her the pearl and coral trinkets.
She threw them back and told him she was tired of him.
Just that — nothing more. He tried to soften her ; she raged
at him like a tiger-cat. Yes, I was one of the little crowd
that stood round them on the quay ; I saw it all. Her black
eyds flashed, she stamped and bit her lips at him, her full
bosom heaved as though it would burst her laced bodice.
She was only a market-girl, but she gave herself the airs of
a queen. * I am tired of you ! ' she said to him. * Go ! I
wish to see you no more.' He was tall and well-made, a
powerful fellow ; but he staggered, his face grew pale, his
lips quivered. He bent his head a little — turned — and be-
fore any hand could stop him he sprung from the edge of
the quay into the waves ; they closed over his head, for he
did not try to swim ; he just sunk down, down, like a stone.
Next day his body came ashore, and I bought his clothes
for two francs ; you shall have them for four."

" And what became of the girl ? " I asked.

" Oh, she / She laughs all day long, as I told you. She
has a new lover every week. What should she care ? "

I drew out my purse. " I will take this suit," I said.
" You ask four francs, here are six, but for the extra two
you nmst show me some private corner where I can dress."

" Yes, yes. But certainly ! " and the old fellow trembled
all over with avaricious eagerness as I counted the silver
pieces into his withered palm. " Anything to oblige a genei>

VEX D ETTA I 45

OUS stranger ! There is the place I sleep in ; it is not much,
but there is a mirror — her mirror — the only thing I keep of
hers ; come this way, come this way ! "

And stumbling hastily along, almost falling over the disor-
dered bundles of clothing that lay about in all directions, he
opened a little door that seemed to be cut in the wall, and
led me into a kind of close cupboard, smelling most vilely,
and furnished with a miserable pallet bed and one broken
chair. A small square pane of glass admitted light enough
to see all that there was to be seen, and close to this ex-
temporized window hung the mirror alluded to, a beautiful
thing set in silver of antique workmanship, the costliness of
which I at once recognized, though into the glass itself I
dared not for the moment look. The old man showed me
with some pride that the door to this narrow den of his locked
from within.

" I made the lock and key, and fitted it all myself," he
said. " Look how neat and strong ! Yes ; I was clever
once at all that work — it was my trade — till that morning
when I found her with the singer from Venice ; then I for-
got all I used to know — it went away somehow, I could never
understand why. Here is the fisherman's suit ; you can take
your time to put it on ; fasten the door ; the room is at your
service.''

And he nodded several times in a manner that was meant
to be friendly, and left me. I followed his advice at once
and locked myself in. Then I stepped steadily to the mirror
hanging on the wall, and looked at my own reflection. A
bitter pang shot through me. The dealer's sight was good,
he had said truly. I was old ! If twenty years of suffering
had passed over my head, they could hardly have changed
me more terribly. My illness had thinned my face and
marked it with deep lines of pain ; my eyes had retreated
far back into my head, while a certain wildness of expres-
sion in them bore witness to the terrors I had suffered in
the vault, and to crown all, my hair was indeed perfectly
white. I understood now the alarm of the man who had
sold me grapes on the highway that morning ; my appear-
ance was strange enough to startle any one. Indeed, I
scarcely recognized myself. Would my wife, would Guido
recognize me ? Almost I doubted it. This thought was so
painful to me that the tears sprung to my eyes. I brushed
them away in haste.

M Fy on thee, Fabio ! Be a man 1 " I said, addressing

4& VENDETTA!

myself angrily. " Of what matter after all whether hairs are
black qr white ? What matter how the face changes, so long
as the heart is true ? For a moment, perhaps, thy love may
grow pale at sight of thee ; but when she knows of thy suffer-
ings, wilt thou not be dearer to her than ever ? Will not one
of her soft embraces recompense thee for all thy past anguish,
and suffice to make thee young again ? "

And thus encouraging my sinking spirits, I quickly arrayed
myself in the Neapolitan coral-fisher's garb. The trousers
were very loose, and were provided with two long deep pockets,
convenient receptacles, which easily contained the leathern
bags of gold and jewels I had taken from the brigand's coffin.
When my hasty toilet was completed I took another glance at
the mirror, this time with a half smile. True, I was greatly
altered ; but after all I did not look so bad. The fisherman's
picturesque costume became me well ; the scarlet cap sat jaun-
tily on the snow-white curls that clustered so thickly over my
forehead, and the consciousness I had of approaching happi-
ness sent a little of the old fearless luster back into my sunken
eyes. Besides, I knew I should not always have this care-worn
and wasted appearance ; rest, and perhaps a change of air,
would infallibly restore the roundness to my face and the fresh-
ness to my complexion ; even my white locks might return to
their pristine color, such things had been ; and supposing they
remained white ? well ! — there were many who would admire
the peculiar contrast between a young man's face and an old
man's hair.

Having finished dressing, I unlocked the door of the stuffy
little cabin and called the old rag-picker. He came shuf-
fling along with his head bent, but raising his eyes as he
approached me, he threw up his hands in astonishment,
exclaiming,

" Santissima Madonna ! But you are a fine man — a fine
man ! Eh, eh ! Holy Joseph ! What height and breadth !
A pity — a pity you are old ; you must have been strong when
you were young ! "

Half in joke, and half to humor him in his fancy for mere
muscular force, I rolled up the sleeve of my jacket t» the
shoulder, saying, lightly,

" Oh, as for being strong ! There is plenty of strength in
me still, you see."

He stared ; laid his yellow fingers on my bared arm with
a kind of ghoul-like interest and wonder, and fe\t the muscles
of it with childish, almost maudlin admiration

VENDETTA! 4}

"Beautiful, beautiful!" he mumbled. "Like iron— just
think of it ! Yes, yes. You could kill anything easily. Ah !
I used to be like that once. I was clever at sword-play. I
could, with well-tempered steel, cut asunder a seven-times-
folded piece of silk at one blow without fraying out a thread.
Yes, as neatly as one cuts butter! You could do that too if
you liked. It all lies in the arm — the brave arm that kills at
a single stroke."

And he gazed at me intently with his small blear eyes as
though anxious to know more of my character and tempera-
ment. I turned abruptly from him, and called his attention
to my own discarded garments.

" See/' I said, carelessly ; " you can have these, though
they are not of much value. And, stay, here are another
three francs for some socks and shoes, which I dare say you
can find to suit me."

He clasped his hands ecstatically, and poured out a torrent
of thanks and praises for this additional and unexpected sum,
and protesting by all the saints that he and the entire contents
of his shop were at the service of so generous a stranger, he
at once produced the articles I asked for. I put them on —
and then stood up thoroughly equipped and ready to make
my way back to my own home when I chose. But I had re-
solved on one thing. Seeing that I was so greatly changed,
I determined not to go to the Villa Romani by daylight, lest I
should startle my wife too suddenly. Women are delicate ;
my unexpected appearance might give her a nervous shock
which perhaps would have serious results. I would wait till
the sun had set, and then go up to the house by a back way
I knew of, and try to get speech with one of the servants. I
might even meet my friend Guido Ferrari, and he would
break the joyful news of my return from death to Nina by
degrees, and also prepare her for my altered looks. While
these thoughts flitted rapidly through my bram, the old rag-
picker stood near me with his head on one side like a medi-
tative raven, and regarded me intently.

" Are you going far ? " he asked at last, with a kind of
timidity.

" Yes," I answered him, abruptly ; " very far."

He laid a detaining hand on my sleeve, and his eyes glit-
tered with a malignant expression.

" Tell me," he muttered, eagerly, " tell me — I will keep
the secret. Are you going to a woman ? "

4* VENDETTA!

I looked down upon him, half in disdain, half in amusement
" Yes ! " 1 said, quietly ; " I am going to a woman."
He broke into silent laughter — hideous laughter that con-
torted his visage and twisted his body in convulsive writh-
ings.

I glanced at him in disgust, and shaking off his hand from
my arm, I made my way to the door of the shop. He hobbled
quickly after me, wiping away the moisture that his inward
merriment had brought into his eyes.

" Going to a woman ! " he croaked. " Ha, ha ! You are
not the first, nor will you be the last, that has gone so ! Going
to a woman ! that is well — that is good ! Go to her, go ! You
are strong ; you have a brave arm ! Go to her ; find her out,
and — kill her / Yes, yes — you will be able to do it easily —
quite easily ! Go and kill her ! "

He stood at his low door mouthing and pointing, his stunted
figure and evil face reminding me of one of Heinrich Heine's
dwarf devils who are depicted as piling fire on the heads of
the saints. I bade him " Good-day " in an indifferent tone,
but he made me no answer. I walked slowly away. Look-
ing back once I saw him still standing an the threshold of his
wretched dwelling, his wicked mouth working itself into all
manner of grimaces, while with his crooked fingers he made
signs in the air as if he caught an invisible something and
throttled it. I went on down the street and out of it into
the broader thoroughfares, with his last words ringing in my
ears, " go and kill her !"

CHAPTER VII.

THAT day seemed very long to me. I wandered aimlessly
about the city, seeing few faces that I knew, for the wealthier
inhabitants, afraid of the cholera, had either left the place
together or remained closely shut within their own houses
Everywhere I went something bore witness to the terrible
ravages of the plague. At almost every corner I met a funeral
procession. Once I came upon a group of men who were
standing in an open door-way packing a dead body into a
coffin too small for it. There was something truly revolting
in the way they doubled up the arms and legs and squeezed
in the shoulders of the deceased man — one could hear the
bones crack. I watched the brutal proceedings for a minute
or so, and then I said aloud :

VENDETTA! 49

You had better make sure he is quite dead."
The beccamorti looked at me in surprise ; one laughed grimly
and swore. " By the body of God, if I thought he were not
I would twist his accursed neck for him ! But the cholera
never fails, he is dead for certain — see ! " And he knocked
the head of the corpse to and fro against the sides of the
coffin with no more compunction than if it had been a block
of wood. Sickened at the sight, I turned away and said no
more. On reaching one of the more important thoroughfares
I perceived several knots of people collected, who glanced at
one another with eager yet shamed faces, and spoke in low
voices. A whisper reached my ears, " The king ! the king ! "
All heeds were turned in one direction •, I paused and looked
also. Walking at a leisurely pace, accompanied by £ few
gentlemen of earnest mien and grave deportment, I saw the
fearless monarch, Humbert of Italy — he whom his subjects
delight to honor. He was making a round of visits to all the
vilest holes and corners of the city, where the plague raged
most terribly; he had not so much as a cigarette in his mouth
to ward off infection. He walked with the easy and assured
Step of a hero ; his face was somewhat sad, as though the
sufferings of his people had pressed heavily upon his sympa-
thetic heart. I bared my head reverently as he passed, his
keen kind eyes lighted on me with a smile.

" A subject for a painting, yon white-haired fisherman ! "
I heard him say to one of his attendants. Almost I betrayed
myself. I was on the point of springing forward and throw-
ing myself at his feet to tell him my story. It seemed to me
both cruel and unnatural that he> my beloved sovereign,
should pass me without recognition — me, to whom he had
spoken so often and so cordially. For when I visited Rome,
as I was accustomed to do annually, there were few more
welcome guests at the balls of the Quirinal Palace than Count
Fabio Romani. I began to wonder stupidly who Fabio
Romani was ; the gay gallant known as such seemed no
longer to have any existence — a " white-haired fisherman "
usurped his place. But though I thought these things I
refrained from addressing the king. Some impulse, how-
ever, led me to follow him at a respectful distance, as did
also many others. His majesty strolled through the most
pestilential streets with as much unconcern as though he
were taking his pleasure in a garden of roses ; he stepped
quietly into the dirtiest hovels where lay both dead and dy-
ing ; he spoke words of kindly encouragement to the griei-
4

50 VENDETTA!

stricken and terrified mourners, who stared through their
tears at the monarch with astonishment and gratitude ; silver
and gold were gently dropped into the hands of the suffering
poor, and the very pressing cases received the royal bene-
factor's personal attention and immediate relief. Mothers
with infants in their arms knelt to implore the king's blessing
— which to pacify them he gave with a modest hesitation, as
though he thought himself unworthy, and yet with a pa-
rental tenderness that was infinitely touching. One wild-
eyed, black-haired girl flung herself down on the ground right
in the king's path ; ,she kissed his feet, and then sprung erect
with a gesture of triumph.

" I am saved ! " she cried ; " the plague cannot walk in
the same road with the king ! "

Humbert smiled, and regarded her somewhat as an indul-
gent father might regard a spoiled daughter; but he said
nothing, and passed on. A cluster of men and women stand-
ing at the open door of one of the poorest-looking houses in
the street next attracted the monarch's attention. There
was some noisy argument going on ; two or three becca-
morti were loudly discussing together and swearing pro-
fusely— some women were crying bitterly, and in the center
of the excited group a coffin stood on end as though waiting
for an occupant. One of the gentlemen in attendance on
the king preceded him and announced his approach, where-
upon the loud clamor of tongues ceased, the men bared their
heads, and the women checked their sobs.

" What is wrong here, my friends ? " the monarch asked
with exceeding gentleness.

There was silence for a moment ; the beceamorti looked
sullen and ashamed. Then one of the women, with a fat
good-natured face and eyes rimmed redly round with weep-
ing, elbowed her way through the little throng to the front
and spoke.

" May the Holy Virgin and saints bless your majesty ! "
she cried, in shrill accents. " And as for what is wrong, it
would soon be right if those shameless pigs," pointing to
the beceamorti, " would let us alone. They would kill a man
rather than wait an hour — one little hour ! The girl is dead,
your majesty — and Giovanni, poor lad! will not leave her;
he has his two arms round her tight — Holy Virgin ! — think
of it ! and she a cholera corpse — and do what we can, he>
will not be pai ted from her, and they seek her body for the
burial. And if we force him away,/0zw/«0, he will lose his

VENDETTA! 51

head for certain. One little hour, your majesty, just one,
and the reverend father will come and persuade Giovanni
better than we can."

The king raised his hand with a slight gesture of command
— the little crowd parted before him — and he entered the mis-
erable dwelling wherein lay the corpse that was the cause of
all the argument. His attendants followed ; I, too, availed
myself of a corner in the doorway. The scene disclosed was
so terribly pathetic that few could look upon it without emo-
tion — Humbert of Italy himself uncovered his head and stood
silent. On a poor pallet bed lay the fair body of a girl in
her first youth, her tender loveliness as yet untouched even
by the disfiguring marks of the death that had overtaken her.
One would have thought she slept, had it not been for the
rigidity of her stiffened limbs, and the wax-like pallor of her
face and hands. Right across her form, almost covering it
from view, a man lay prone, as though he had fallen there
lifeless — indeed he might have been dead also for any sign
he showed to the contrary. His arms were closed firmly
round the girl's corpse — his face was hidden from view on
the cold breast that would no more respond to the warmth
of his caresses. A straight beam of sunlight shot like a
golden spear into the dark little room and lighted up the
whole scene — the prostrate figures on the bed — the erect
form of the compassionate king, and the grave and anxious
faces of the little crowd of people who stood around him.

" See ! that is the way he has been ever since last night
when she died," whispered the woman who had before spoken ;
" and his hands are clinched round her like iron — one can-
not move a finger ! "

The king advanced. He touched the shoulder of the un-
happy lover. His voice, modulated to an exquisite softness,
struck on the ears of the listeners like a note of cheerful
music.

There was no answer. The women, touched by the simple
endearing words of the monarch, began to sob though gently,
and even the men brushed a few drops from their eyes.
Again the king spoke.

" Figlio mio ! I am your king. Have you no greeting for
me?"

The man raised his head from its pillow on the breast of
the beloved corpse and stared vacantly at the royal speaker.
His haggard face, tangled hair, and wild eyes gave him the

51 VENDETTA!

appearance of one who hai long wandered in a labyrinth of
frightful visions from which there was no escape but self-
murder.

" Your hand, my son ! '' resumed th king in a tone of sol-
dier-like authority.

Very slowly — very reluctantly — as though he were forced
to the action by some strange magneti influence which he
had no power to withstand, he loosened his right arm from
the dead form it clasped so pertinaciously, and stretched
forth the hand as commanded. Humbert caught it firmly
within his own and held it fast — then looking the poor
fellow full in the face, he said with grave steadiness and
simplicity,

" There is no death in love, my friend ! "

The young man's eyes met his — his set mouth softened —
and wresting his hand passionately from that of the king, he
broke ito a passion of weeping. Humbert at once placed
a protecting arm around h:'m, and with the assistance of one
of his attendants raised him from the bed, and led him un-
resistingly away, as passively obedient as a child, though sob-
bing convulsively as he went. The rush of tears had saved his
reasor , and most probably his life. A murmur of enthu iastic
applause greeted the good king as he passed through the
little throng of persons who had witnessed what had taken
place. Acknowledging it with a quiet unaffected bow, he
left the house, and signed to the beccamorti, who still waited
outside, that they were now free to perform their melancholy
office. He then went on his way attended by more heart-
felt blessinf s and praises than ever fell to the lot of the
proudest conqueror returning with the spoils of a hundred
battles. I looked after his retreating figure till I could see
it no more — I felt that I had grown stronger for the mere
presence of a hero — a man who indeed was " every inch a
king." I am a royalist — yes. Governed by such a sovereign,
few men of calm reason would be otherwise. But royalist
though I am, I would assist in bringing about the dethrone-
ment and death of a mean tyrant, were he crowned king a
hundred times over! Few monarchs are like Humbert of
Italy — even now my heart warms when I think of him — in
all the distraction of my sufferings, his figure stands out like
a supreme embodied Beneficent Force surrounded by the
clear light of unselfish goodness — a light in which Italia suns
her fair face and smiles again with the old sweet smile of
ker happiest days of high achievement — days in which her

VENDETTA! 53

children were great, simply because they were earnest. The
fault of all modern labor lies in th^ fact that there is no heart
in anything we do — we seldom love our work for work's sake
— we perform it solely for what we can get by it. Therein
lies the secret of failure. Friends will scarcely serve each
other unless they can also serve their own interests — true,
there are exceptions to this rule, but they are deemed fools
for their pains.

As soon as the king disappeared I also left the scene of
the foregoing incident. I had a fancy to visit the little res-
taurant where I had been taken ill, and after some trouble
I found it The door stood open. I saw the fat landlord,
Pietro, polishing his glasses as though he had never left off ;
and there in the same corner was the very wooden bench on
which I had lain — where I had — as was generally supposed
— died. I stepped in. The landlord looked up and bade
me good-day. I returned his salutation, and ordered some
coffee and rolls of bread Seating myself carelessly at one
of the little tables I turned over the newspaper, while he
bustled about in haste to serve me. As he dusted and
rubbed up a cup and saucer for my use, he said, briskly,

" You have had a long voyage, amico ? And successful
fishing ? "

For a moment I was confused and knew not what to an-
swer, but gathering my wits together I smiled and answered
readily in the affirmative.

" And you ? " I said, gayly. " How goes the cholera ? "

The landlord shook his head dolefully.

" Holy Joseph ! do not speak of it. The people die like
flies in a honey-pot. Only yesterday — body of Bacchus ! —
who would have thought it ? "

And he sighed deeply as he poured out the steaming
coffee, and shook his head more sorrowfully than before.

" Why, what happened yesterday ? " I asked, though I knew
peafectly well what he was going to say ; " I am a stranger
in Naples, and empty of news."

The perspiring Pietro laid a fat thumb on the marble top
ot the table, and with it traced a pattern meditatively.

" You never heard of the rich Count Romani ? " he in-
quired.

I made a sign in the negative, and bent my face over my
coffee-cup.

" Ah, well ! " he went on with a half groan, " it does not
patter — there is no Count Romani any more. It is all

|4 VENDETTA!

«— finished ! But he was rich — as rich as the king, they say
— yet see how low the saints brought him ! Fra Cipriano of
the Benedictines carried him in here yesterday morning — he
was struck by the plague — in five hours he was dead," here
the landlord caught a mosquito and killed it — " ah ! as dead
as that zinzara! Yes, he lay dead on that very wooden
bench opposite to you. They buried him before sunset. It
is like a bad dream ! "

I affected to be deeply engrossed with the cutting and
spreading of my roll and butter.

" I see nothing particular about it," I said, indifferently.
"That he was rich is nothing — rich and poor must die
alike."

" And that is true, very true," assented Pietro, with another
groan, "for not all his property could save 'the blessed Cip-
riano."

I started, but quickly controlled myself.

" What do you mean ? " I asked, as carelessly as I could.
" Are you talking of some saint ? "

" Well, if he were not canonized he deserves to be," replied
the landlord ; " I speak of the holy Benedictine father who
brought hither the Count Romani in a dying condition. AM
little he knew how soon the good God would call him hinb
self ! "

I felt a sickening sensation at ray heart.

« Is he dead ? " I exclaimed.

" Dead as the martyrs ! " answered Pietro. " He caught
the plague, I suppose, from the count, for he was bending
over him to the last. Ay, and he sprinkled holy water over
the corpse, and laid his own crucifix upon it in the coffin.
Then up he went to the Villa Romani, taking with him the
count's trinkets, his watch, ring, and cigar-case — and nothing
would satisfy him but that he should deliver them himself to
the young contessa, telling her how her husband died."

My poor Nina ! — I thought. " Was she much grieved ? " I
inquired, with a vague curiosity.

" How do I know ? " said the landlord, shrugging his bulky
shoulders. " The reverend father said nothing, save that she
swooned away. But what of that ? Women swoon at every-
thing— from a mouse to a corpse. As I said, the good Cip-
riano attended the count's burial — and he had scarce returned
from it when he was seized with the illness. And this morn-
ing he died at the monastery — may his soul rest in peace ! I
fceard the news only a* hour ago. Ah 1 he was a holy map J

VENDETTA t 55

He has promised me a warm corner in Paradise, and I know
he will keep his word as truly as St. Peter himself."

I pushed away the rest of my meal untasted. The food
choked me. I could have shed tears for the r.oble, patient
life thus self-sacrificed. One hero the less in this world of
unheroic, uninspired persons ! I sat silent, lost in sorrowful
thought. The landlord looked at me curiously.

" The coffee does not please you ? " he said at last. " You
have no appetite ? "

I forced a smile.

" Nay — your words would take the edge off the keenest ap-
petite ever born of the breath of the sea. Truly Naples
affords but sorry entertainment to a stranger ; is there naught
to hear but stories of the dying and the dead ? "

Pietro put on an air that was almost apologetic.

" Well, truly ! " he answered, resignedly — " very little else.
But what would you, amico ? It is the plague and the will of
God."

As he said the last words my gaze was caught and riveted
by the figure of a man strolling leisurely past the door of the
cafe. It was Guido Ferrari — my friend ! I would have
rushed out to speak to him — but something in his look and
manner checked the impulse as it rose in me. He was walk-
ing very slowly, smoking a cigar as he went ; there was a
smile on his face, and in his coat he wore a freshly-gathered
rose La Gloire de France, similar to those that grew in such
profusion on the upper terrace of my villa. I stared at him
as he passed — my feelings underwent a kind of shock. He
looked perfectly happy and tranquil, happier indeed than
ever I remembered to have seen him, and yet — and yet,
according to his knowledge, I, his best friend, had died only
yesterday ! With this sorrow fresh upon him, he could smile
like a man going to &festa, and wear a coral-pink rose, which
surely was no sign of mourning ! For one moment I felt
hurt, the next, I laughed at my own sensitiveness. After all,
what of the smile, what of the rose ! A man could not always
be answerable for the expression of his countenance, and as
for the flower, he might have gathered it en passent, without
thinking, or what was still more likely, the child Stella might
have given it to him, in which case he would have worn it to
please her. He displayed no badge of mourning ? True ! —
but then consider — I had only died yesterday ! There had
been no time to procure all those outward appurtenances of
woe which social customs rendered necessary, but which wer$

56 VENDETTA:

no infallible s'^n of the heart's sincerity. Satisfied with ray
o\in self-r -asoning I »rade no attempt to follow Guido in his
walk — I let h n* g > • n h;s w<.y unconsci ''is of my existence. I
would wait, I thougl t, all *,r.e evening — then everything would
be explained.

I tur ed to the landlord. " How much to pay ? " I asked.

" What you will, amico" he replied — " I am never hard on
the fisher folk — but times are bad, or you would be welcome
to a breakfast for nothing. Many and many a day have I
done as much for men of your craft, and the blessed Cipriano
who is gone used to say that St. Peter would remember me
for it. It is true the Madonna gives a special blessing if one
looks after the fishers, because all the holy apostles were of
the trade ; and I would be loth to lose her protection —
yet—"

I laughed and tossed him a franc. He pocketed it at once
and his eyes twinkled

" Though y u have not taken half a franc's worth," he ad-
mitted, with an ho esty very unusual a a Neapolitan — " but
the saints will mak it up to you, n^ver fear ! "

" I am sure Ox tha ' ' I said gayly, * Addio, my friend !
Prosperity t you nd ou Lady's fa .ror ;

This salutation, \vh ch I knew to bj a common one with
Sicilian mariner:, the gooc* Pietro responded to with amiable
heartiness, wishing me luck on my next voyage. He then
betook himself anew to the poll hing of his glasses — and
I passed the rest of the day in strolling about the least fre-
quented streets of thr city and longing impatiently for the
crimson glory of the sunset, which, like a wide flag of triumph,
was to be the signal of my safe return to love and hap-
piness.

CHAPTER VIII.

IT came at last, the blessed, the longed-for evening. A
soft breeze sprung up, cooling the burning air after the heat
of the day, and bringing with it the odor? of a thousand
flowers. A regal glory of shifting colors blazed on the breast
of heaven — the bay, motionless as a mirror, reflected all the
splendid tints with a sheeny luster that redoubled their mag-
nificence. Pricked in every vein by the stinging of my own
desires, I yet restrained myself ; I waited till the sun sunk
below the glassy waters — till the pomp and glow attending

VENDETTA! 57

its departure had paled into those dim, ethereal hues which
are like delicate draperies fallen from the flying forms of
angels — till the yellow rim of the round full moon rose lan-
guidly on the edge of the horizon — and then keeping back
my eagerness no longer, I took the well-known road ascend-
ing to the Villa Romani, My heart beat high — my limbs
trembled with excitement — my steps were impatient and
precipitate — never had the way seemed so long. At last I
reached the great gate-way — it was locked fast — its sculp-
tured lions looked upon me frowningly. I heard the splash
and tinkle of the fountains within, the scents of the roses and
myrtle were wafted toward me with every breath I drew.
Home at last ! I smiled — rry whole frame quivered with
expectancy and delight. It was not my intention to seek
admission by the principal entrance — I contented myself with
one long, loving look, and turned to the left, where there was
a small private gate leading into an avenue of ilex and pine,
interspersed with orange-trees. This was a favorite walk of
mine, partly on account of its pleasant shade even in the
hottest noon — parti;, because it was seldom frequented by
any member of the household save myself. Guido occasion-
ally took a turn with me there, but I was more often alone,
and I was fond of pacing up and down in the shadow of the
trees, reading some favorite book, or giving myself up to the
dokefar nienteol my own imaginings. The avenue led round
to the back of the villa, and as I now entered it, I thought I
would approach the house cautiously by this means and get
private speech with Assunta, the nurse who had charge of
little Stella, and who was moreover an old and tried family
servant, in whose arms my mother had breathed her last.

The dark trees rustled solemnly as I stepped quickly yet
softly along the familiar moss-grown path. The place was
very still — sometimes the nightingales broke into a bubbling
torrent of melody, and then were suddenly silent, as though
overawed by the shadows of the heavy interlacing boughs,
through which the moonlight flickered, casting strange and
fantastic patterns on the ground. A cloud of lucdole broke
from a thicket of laurel, and sparkled in the air like gems
loosened from a queen's crown. Faint odors floated about
me, shaken from orange boughs and trailing branches of
white jasmine. I hastened on, my spirits rising higher the
nearer I approached my destination. I was full of sweet'
anticipation and passionate longing — I yearned to clasp my
beloved Nina in my arms — to see her lovely lustrous eve$

5S VENDETTAt

looking fondly into mine — I was eager to shake Guido by
the hand — and as for Stella, I knew the child would be in
bed at that hour, but still, I thought, I must have her wak-
ened to see me. I felt that my happiness would not be com-
plete till I had kissed her little cherub face, and caressed
those clustering curls of hers that were like spun gold.
Hush — hush ! What was that ? I stopped in my rapid pro-
gress as though suddenly checked by an invisible hand. I
listened with strained ears. That sound — was it not a rip-
pling peal of gay sweet laughter? A shiver shook me from
head to foot. It was my wife's laugh — I knew the silvery
chime of it well ! My heart sunk coldly — I paused irreso-
lute. She could laugh then like that, while she thought me
lying dead — dead and out of her reach forever ! All at
once I perceived the glimmer of a white robe through the
trees ; obeying my own impulse, I stepped softly aside — I
hid behind a dense screen of foliage through which I could
see without being seen. The clear laugh rang out once
again on the stillness — its brightness pierced my brain like
a sharp swosd ! She was happy — she was even merry — she
wandered here in the moonlight joyous-hearted, while I — I
had expected to find her close shut within her room, or else
kneeling before the Mater Dolorosa in the little chapel,
praying for my soul's rest, and mingling her prayers with
her tears ! Yes — I had expected this — we men are such
fools when we love women ! Suddenly a terrible thought
struck me. Had she gone mad ? Had the shock and grief
of my so unexpected death turned her delicate brain ? Was
she roaming about, poor child, like Ophelia, knowing not
whither she went, and was her apparent gayety the fantastic
mirth of a disordered brain ? I shuddered at the idea —
and bending slightly apart the boughs behind which I was
secreted, I looked out anxiously. Two figures were slowly
approaching — my wife and my friend, Guido Ferrari. Well
— there was nothing in that — it was as it should be — was not
Guido as my brother ? It was almost his duty to console and
cheer Nina as much as lay in his power. But stay! stay! did
I see aright — was she simply leaning on his arm for support
— or — a fierce oath, that was almost a cry of torture, broke
from my lips ! Oh, would to God I had died ! Would to
God I had never broken open the coffin in which I lay at
"peace ! What was death — what were the horrors of the vault
— what was anything I had suffered to the anguish that
racked me now ? The memory of it to this day burns in my

VENDETTA ! 59

brain like inextinguishable fire, and ray hand involuntarily
:linches itself in an effort to beat back the furious bitterness
of that moment ! I know not how I restrained the murderous
ferocity that awoke within me — how I forced myself to re-
main motionless and silent in my hiding-place. But I did.
I watched the miserable comedy out to its end. I looked
dumbly on at my own betrayal ! I saw my honor stabbed
to the death by those whom I most trusted, and yet I gave
no sign ! They — Guido Ferrari and my wife — came so
close to my hiding-place that I could note every gesture and
hear every word they uttered. They paused within three
steps of me — his arm encircled her waist — hers was thrown
carelessly around his neck — her head rested on his shoulder.
Even so had she walked with me a thousand times ! She
was dressed in pure white save for one spot of deep color
near her heart — a red rose, as red as — blood. It was pinned
there with a diamond pin that flashed in the moonlight. I
thought wildly, that instead of that rose, there should be
blood indeed — instead of a diamond pin there should be
the good steel of a straight dagger ! But I had no weapon
— I stared at her, dry-eyed and mute. She looked lovely —
exquisitely lovely ! No trace of grief marred the fairness of
her face — her eyes were as languidly limpid and tender as
ever — her lips were parted in the child-like smile that was
so sweet — so innocently trustful ! She spoke — ah, Heaven !
the old bewitching music of her low voice made my heart
leap and my brain reel.

" You foolish Guido ! " she said, in dreamily amused ac-
cents. " What would have happened, I wonder, if Fabio
had not died so opportunely."

I waited eagerly for the answer. Guido laughed lightly.

" He would never have discovered anything. You were;
too clever for him, piccinina ! Besides, his conceit saved
him — he had so good an opinion of himself that he would
not have deemed it possible for you to care for any other man."

My wife — flawless diamond — pearl of pure womanhood !—
sighed half restlessly.

" I am glad he is dead ! " she murmured ; " but, Guido
mio, you are imprudent. You cannot visit me now so often
— the servants will talk ! Then I must go into mourning for
at least six months — and there are many other things to con-
sider.;'

Guido's hand played with the jeweled necklace she wore—
Jia fcent and kissed the place where its central pendant rested.

60 VENDETTA!

Again — again, good sir, I pray you ! Let no faint scruples
interfere with your rightful enjoyment ! Cover the white
flesh with caresses — it is public property ! a dozen kisses
more or less will not signify ! So I madly thought as I
crouched among the trees — the tigerish wrath within me
making the blood beat in my head like a hundred hammer-
strokes.

" Nay then, my love," he replied to her, " it is almost a
pity Fabio is dead ! While he lived he played an excellent
part as a screen — he was an unconscious, but veritable
duenna of propriety for both of us, as no one else could be ! "

The boughs that covered me creaked and rustled. My
wife started, and looked uneasily round her.

" Hush ! " she said, nervously. " He was buried only yes-
terday— and they say there are ghosts sometimes. This
avenue, too — I wish we had not come here — it was his favor-
ite walk. Besides," she added, with a slight accent of re-
gret, " after all he was the father of my child — you must
think of that."

" By Heaven ! " exclaimed Guido, fiercely, " do I not think
of it ? Ay — and 1 curse him for every kiss he stole from
your lips ! "

I listened half stupefied. Here was a new phase of the
marriage law! Husbands were thieves then — they " stole"
kisses ; only lovers were honest in their embraces ! Oh, my
dear friend — my more than brother — how near you were to
death at that moment ! Had you but seen my face peering
pallidly through the dusky leaves — could you have known
the force of the fury pent up within me — you would not have
valued your life at one baiocco /

" Why did you marry him ? " he asked, after a little pause,
during which he toyed with the fair curls that floated against
his breast.

She looked up with a little mutinous pout, and shrugged
her shoulders.

" Why ? Because I was tired of the convent, and all the
stupid, solemn ways of the nuns ; also because he was rich,
and I was horribly poor. I cannot bear to be poor ! Then
he loved me " — here her eyes glimmered with malicious
triumph — " yes — he was mad for me — and —

" You loved him ? " demanded Guido, almost fiercely.

" Ma chef" she answered, with an expressive gesture.
" I suppose I did — for a week or two. As much as one ever
U>ves a husband 1 What does one marry for at all ? Fo*

VENDETTA! 6 1

convenience — money — position — he gave me these things, as
you know."

" You will gain nothing by marrying me, then," he said,
jealously.

She laughed, and laid her little white hand, glittering with
rings, lightly against his lips.

" Of course not ! Besides — have I said I will marry you ?
You are very agreeable as a lover — but otherwise — I am not
sure ! And I am free now — I can do as I like ; I want to
enjoy my liberty, and — "

She was not allowed to complete her sentence, for Ferrari
snatched her close to his breast and held her there as in a
vise. His face was aflame with passion.

" Look you, Nina," he said, hoarsely, "you shall not fool
me, by Heaven ! you shall not ! I have endured enough at
your hands, God knows ! When I saw you for the first time
on the day of your marriage with that poor fool, Fabio— I
loved you, madly — ay, wickedly as I then thought, but not
for the sin of it did I repent. I knew you were woman, not
angel, and I waited my time. Il came — I sought you — I
told you my story of love ere three months of wedded life
had passed over your head. I found you willing — ready —
nay, eager to hear me ! You led me on ; you know you did !
You tempted me by touch, word and look ; you gave me all
I sought ! Why try to excuse it now ? You are as much
my wife as ever you were Fabio's — nay — you are more so,
for you love me — at least you say so — and though you lied
to your husband, you dare not lie to me. I tell you, you
dare not f I never pitied Fabio, never — he was too easily
duped, and a married man has no right to be otherwise than
suspicious and ever on his guard ; if he relaxes in his vigil-
ance he has only himself to blame when his honor is flung
like a ball from hand to hand, as one plays with a child's
toy. I repeat to you, Nina, you are mine, and I swear you
shall never escape me ! "

The impetuous words coursed rapidly from his lips, and
his deep musical voice had a defiant ring as it fell on the
stillness of the evening air. I smiled bitterly as I heard 1
She struggled in his arms half angrily.

" Let me go," she said. " You are rough, you hurt me ! "

He released her instantly. The violence of his embrace
had crushed the rose she wore, and its crimson leaves flut-
tered slowly down one by one on the ground at her feet.
Her eyes flashed resentfully, and an impatient frown con-

6* VENDETTA t

tracted her fair level brows. She looked away from him in
silence, the silence of a cold disdain. Something in her
attitude pained him, for he sprung forward and caught her
hand, covering it with kisses.

11 Forgive me, carina mia" he cried, repentantly. " I did
not mean to reproach you. You cannot help being beauti-
ful— it is the fault of God or the devil that you are so, and
that your beauty maddens me ! You are the heart of my
heart, the soul of my soul ! Oh, Nina mia, let us not waste
words in useless anger. Think of it, we are free — free 1 Free
to make life a long dream of delight — delight more perfect
than angels can know ! The greatest blessing that could
have befallen us is the death of Fabio, and now that we are
all in all to each other, do not harden yourself against me I
Nina, be gentle with me — of all things in the world, surely
love is best ! "

She smiled, with the pretty superior smile of a young em-
press pardoning a recreant subject, and suffered him to draw
her again, but with more gentleness, into his embrace. She
put up her lips to meet his — I looked on like a man in a dream !
I saw them cling together — each kiss they exchanged was a
fresh stab to my tortured soul.

" You are so foolish, Guido mio" she pouted, passing her
little jeweled fingers through his clustering hair with a light
caress — " so impetuous — so jealous ! I have told you over
and over again that I love you ! Do you not remember that
night when Fabio sat out on the balcony reading his Plato,
poor fellow ! " — here she laughed musically — " and we were
trying over some songs in the drawing-room — did I not say
then that I loved you best of any one in the world ? You
know I did ! You ought to be satisfied ! "

Guido smiled, and stroked her shining golden curls.

" I am satisfied," he said, without any trace of his former
heated impatience — " perfectly satisfied. But do not expect
to find love without jealousy. Fabio was never jealous — I
know — he trusted you too implicitly — he was nothing of a
lover, believe me ! He thought more of himself than of you.
A man who will go away for days at a time on solitary yacht-
ing and rambling excursions, leaving his wife to her own
devices — a man who reads Plato in preference to looking
after her, decides his own fate, and deserves to be ranked
with those so-called wise but most ignorant philosophers to
whom Woman has always remained an unguessed riddle.
A.S for me — I am jealous of the ground you tread upon — of

VENDETTA! 63

the air that touches you — I was jealous of Fabio while he
lived — and — by Heaven ! " — his eyes darkened with a somber
wrath — " if any other man dared now to dispute your love
with me I would not rest till his body had served my sword
as a sheath ! "

Nina raised her head from his breast with an air of petu-
lant weariness.

" Again ! " she murmured, reproachfully, " you are going
to be angry again / "

He kissed her.

44 Not I, sweet one ! I will be as gentle as you wish, so
long as you love me and only me. Come — this avenue is
damp and chilly for you — shall we go in ? "

My wife — nay, I should say OUR wife, as we had both
shared her impartial favors — assented. With arms interlaced
and walking slowly, they began to retrace their steps toward
the house. Once they paused.

" Do you hear th nightingales? " asked Guido.

Hear them? Who could not hear them? A shower of
melody rained from the trees on every side — the pure, sweet,
passionate tones pierced the ear like the repeated chime of
little golden bells — the beautiful, the tender, the God-inspired
birds sung their love-stories simply and with perfect rapture
— love-stories untainted by hypocrisy — unsullied by crime — •
different, ah ! so very different from the love-stories of selfish
humanity ! The exquisite poetic idyl of a bird's life and love
— is it not a thing to put us inferior creatures to shame—
for are we ever as true to our vows as the lark to his mate ?
—are we as sincere in our thanksgivings for the sunlight as
the merry robin who sings as blithely in the winter snow as
in the flower-filled mornings of spring ? Nay — not we ! Our
existence is but one long impotent protest against God,
combined with an insatiate desire to get the better of one
another in the struggle for base coin !

Nina listened — and shivered, drawing her light scarf more
closely about her shoulders.

" I hate them ! " she said, pettishly ; " their noise is
enough to pierce one's ears. And he used to be so fond of
them ; he used to sing — what was it ?

' Ti saluto, RosignuolOy
Nel tuo duolo, ti saluto !
Set ramante della rosa
Che morendo si fa sposa ! "

Her rkh voice rippled out on the air, rivaling the songs of

64 VENDETTA!

the nightingales themselves. She broke oft with a little
laugh—

" Poor Fabio ! there was always a false note somewhere
when he sung. Come, Guido ! "

And they paced on quietly, as though their consciences
were clean — as though no just retribution dogged their steps
— as though no shadow of a terrible vengeance loomed in
the heaven of their pilfered happiness ! I watched them
steadily as they disappeared in the distance — I stretched
my head eagerly out from between the dark boughs and
gazed after their retreating figures till the last glimmer of
my wife's white robe had vanished behind the thick foliage.
They were gone — they would return no more that night.

I sprung out from my hiding-place. I stood on the spot
where they had stood. I tried to bring home to myself the
actual truth of what I had witnessed. My brain whirled —
circles of Hght swam giddily before me in the air — the moon
looked blood-red. The solid earth seemed unsteady be-
neath my feet — almost I doubted whether I was indeed alive,
or whether I was not rather the wretched ghost of my past
self, doomed to return from the grave to look helplessly
upon the loss and ruin of all the fair, once precious things
of by-gone days. The splendid universe around me seemed
no more upheld by the hand of God — no more a majestic
marvel ; it was to me but an inflated bubble of emptiness—
a mere ball for devils to kick and spurn through space ! Of
what avail these twinkling stars — these stately leaf-laden
trees — these cups of fragrance we know as flowers — this
round wonder of the eyes called Nature ? of what avail was
God Himself, I widely mused, since even He could not keep
one woman true ? She whom I loved — she as delicate of
form, as angel-like in face as the child-bride of Christ, St.
Agnes — she, even she was — what ? A thing lower than the
beasts, a thing as vile as the vilest wretch in female form
that sells herself for a gold piece — a thing — great Heaven!
— for all men to despise and make light of — for the finger of
Scorn to point out — for the foul hissing tongue of Scandal
to mock at ! This creature was my wife — the mother of my
child — she had cast mud on her soul by her own free will
and choice — she had selected evil as her good — she had
crowned herself with shame willingly, nay — joyfully ; she
had preferred it to honor. What should be done ? I tort-
ured myself unceasingly with this question. I stared blankly
on the ground — would some demon spring from it and give

VENDETTA! 6$

me the ansvfcf I sought ? What should be done with her —
with him, my treacherous friend, my smiling betrayer? Sud-
denly my eyes lighted on the fallen rose-leaves — those that
had dropped when Guide's embrace had crushed the flower
she wore. There they lay on the path, curled softly at the
edges like little crimson shells. I stooped and picked them
up — I placed them all in the hollow of my hand and looked
at them. They had a sweet odor — almost I kissed them —
nay, nay, I could not— they had too recently lain on the
breast of an embodied Lie ! Yes ; she was that, a Lie, a
living, lovely, but accursed Lie ! " Go and kill her !" Stay !
where had I heard that ? Painfully I considered, and at last
remembered — and then I thought moodily that the starved
and miserable rag-picker was more of a man than I. He
had taken his revenge at once ; while I, like a fool, had let
occasion slip. Yes, but not forever ! There were different
ways of vengeance ; one must decide the best, the keenest
way — and, above all, the way that shall inflict the longest,
the crudest agony upon those by whom honor is wronged.
True — it would be sweet to slay sin in the act of sinning,
but then — must a Romani brand himself as a murderer in
the sight of men ? Not so ; there were other means — other
roads, leading to the same end if the tired brain could only
plan them out. Slowly I dragged my aching limbs to the
fallen trunk of a tree and sat down, still holding the dying
rose-leaves in my clinched palm. There was a surging
noise in my ears — my mouth tasted of blood, my lips were
parched and burning as with fever. "A white-haired fisher-
man" That was me ! The king had said so. Mechanically
I looked down at the clothes I wore — the former property of
a suicide. " He was a fool," the vender of them had said,
" he killed himself."

Yes, there was no doubt of it — he was a fool. I would not
ollow his example, or at least not yet. I had something to do
iirst — something that must be done if I could only see my way
clear to it. Yes — if I could only see my way and follow it
straightly, resolutely, remorselessly ! My thoughts were con-
fused, like the thoughts of a fever-stricken man in delirium —
the scent of the rose-leaves I held sickened me strangely —
yet I would not throw them from me ; no, I would keep
them to remind me of the embraces I had witnessed ! I felt
for my purse ! I found and opened it, and placed the
withering red petals carefully within it. As I slipped it
again in my pocket I remembered the two leathern pouches
5

M VENDETTA!

I carried — the one filled with gold, the other with the jewels
I had intended for — her. My adventures in the vault re-
curred to me ; I smiled as I recollected the dire struggle I
had made for life and liberty. Life and liberty ! — of what
ase were they to me now, save for one thing — revenge ? I
was not wanted ; I was not expected back to refill my former
place on earth — the large fortune I had possessed was now
my wife's by the decree of my own last will and testament,
which she would have no difficulty in proving. But still,
wealth was mine — the hidden stores of the brigands w.^re
sufficient to make any man more than rich for the term
of his natural life. As I considered this, a sort of dull
pleasure throbbed in my veins. Money ! Anything could
be done for money — gold would purchase even vengeance.
But what sort of vengeance ? Such a one as I sought must
be unique — refined, relentless, and complete.. I pondered
deeply. The evening wind blew freshly up from the sea ;
the leaves of the swaying trees whispered mysteriously to-
gether ; the nightingales warbled on with untired .sweetness ;
and the moon, like the round shield of an angel warrior,
shone brightly against the dense blue background of the
sky. Heedless of the passing of hours, I sat still, lost in a
bewildered reverie. " There was always a false note some"
where when he sung !" So she had said, laughing that little
laugh of hers as cold and sharp as the clash of steel. True,
true ; by all the majesty of Heaven, most true ! There was
indeed a false note — jarring, not so much the voice as the
music of life itself. There is stuff in all of us that will
weave, as we desire it, into a web of stately or simple
harmony ; but let the meteor-like brilliancy of a woman's
smile — a woman's touch — a woman's lie — intermingle itself
with the strain, and lo ! the false note is struck, discord de-
clares itself, and God Himself, the great Composer, can do
nothing in this life to restore the old calm tune of peaceful,
unspoiled days ! So I have found ; so all of you must find,
long before you and sorrow grow old together.

" A white-haired fisherman I "

The words of the king repeated themselves over and over
again in my tortured brain. Yes — I was greatly changed, I
looked worn and old — no one would recognize me for my
former self. All at once, with this thought, an idea occurred
to me — a plan of vengeance, so bold, so new, and withal so
terrible, that I started from my seat as though stung by an
adder. I paced up and down rest'essly, with this lurid light

VENDETTA] 67

of fearful revenge pouring in on every nook and cranny of my
darkened mind. From whence had come this daring scheme ?
What devil, or rather what angel of retribution, had
whispered it to my soul ? Dimly I wondered — but amid
all my wonder I began practically to arrange the details of
my plot. I calculated every small circumstance that was
likely to occur in the process of carrying it out. My stupe-
fied senses became aroused from the lethargy of despair,
and stood up like soldiers on the alert armed to the teeth.
Past love, pity, pardon, patience — pooh ! what were all these
resources of the world's weakness to me? What was it to
me that the bleeding Christ forgave His enemies in death ?
He never loved a woman ! Strength and resolution returned
to me. Let common sailors and rag-pickers resort to murder
and suicide as fit outlets for their unreasoning brute wrath
when wronged ; but as for me, why should I blot my family
scutcheon with a merely vulgar crime ? Nay, the vengeance
of a Romani must be taken with assured calmness and easy
deliberatiqn — no haste, no plebeian fury, no effeminate fuss,
no excitement. I walked up and down slowly, meditating
en every point of the bitter drama in which I had resolved
to enact the chief part, from the rise to fhe fall of the black
curtain. The mists cleared from my brain — I breathed more
easily — my nerves steadied themselves by degrees — the
prospect of what I purposed doing satisfied me and calmed
the fever in my blood. I became perfectly cool and collected.
I indulged in no more futile regrets for the past — why should
I mourn the loss of a love I never possessed ? It was not
as if they had waited till my supposed sudden death— no !
within three months of my marriage they had fooled me ; for
three whole years they had indulged in their criminal amour,
while I, blind dreamer, had suspected nothing. Now I knew
the extent of my injury ; I was a man bitterly wronged, vilely
duped. Justice, reason, and self-respect demanded that I
should punish to the utmost the miserable tricksters who had
played me false. The passionate tenderness I had felt for my
wife was gone — I plucked it from my heart as I would have
torn a thorn from my flesh — I flung it from me with disgust
as I had flung away the unseen reptile that had fastened on
my neck in the vault. The deep warm friendship of years I
had felt for Guido Ferrari froze to its very foundations — and
in its place there rose up, not hate, but pitiless, immeasurable
contempt. A stern disdain of myself also awoke in me, as I
remembered the unreasoning joy with which I had hastened

68 YMtfDETTAt

— as I thought — home, full of eager anticipation and Romeo<
like ardor. An idiot leaping merrily to his death ovor a
mountain chasm was not more fool than I ! But the divam
was over — the delusion of my life was passed. I was strong
to avenge — I would be swift to accomplish. So, darkly
musing for an hour or more, I decided on the course I had
to pursue, and to make the decision final I drew from my
breast the crucifix that the dead monk Cipriano had laid
with me in my coffin, and kissing it, I raised it aloft, and
swore by that sacred symbol never to relent, never to relax,
never to rest, till I had brought my vow of just vengeance to
its utmost fulfillment. The stars, calm witnesses of my
oath, eyed me earnestly from their judgment thrones in the
quiet sky — there was a brief pause in the singing of the
nightingales, as though they too listened — the wind sighed
plaintively, and scattered a shower of jasmine blossoms like
snow at my feet. Even so, I thought, fall the last leaves
Of my white days — days of pleasure, days of sweet illusion,
days of dear remembrance ; even so let them wither and
perish utterly forever ! For from henceforth my life must be
something other than a mere garland of flowers — it must be
a chain of finely tempered steel, hard, cold, and unbreakable
— formed into links strong enough to wind round and round
two false lives and imprison them so closely as to leave no
means of escape. This was what must be done — and I re-
solved to do it. With a firm, quiet step I turned to leave
the avenue. I opened the little private wicket, and passed
into the dusty road. A clanging noise caused me to look up
as I went by the principal entrance of the Villa Romani. A
servant — my own man-servant by the by — was barring the
great gates for the night. I listened as he slid the bolts into
their places, and turned the key. I remembered that those
gates had been thoroughly fastened before, when I came up the
road from Naples — why then had they been opened since ?
To let out a visitor? Of course ! I smiled grimly at my
wife's cunning ! She evidently knew what she was about.
Appearances m^st be kept up — the Signer Ferrari must be
decorously shown out by a servant at the chief entrance of
the house. Naturally ! — all very unsuspicious-looking and
quite in keeping with the proprieties ! Guido had just left
her then ? I walked steadily, without hurrying my pace, down
the hill toward the city, and on the way I overtook him. 1 Ie
was strolling lazily along, smoking as usual, and he held a
spray of stephanotis in his hand — well I knew who had given

VENDETTA I 69

it to him ! I passed him — he glanced up carelessly, his
handsome face clearly visible in the bright moonlight — but
there was nothing about a common fisherman to attract his
attention — his look only rested upon me for a second and
was withdrawn immediately. An insane desire possessed
me to turn upon him — to spring at his throat — to wrestle
with him and throw him in the dust at my feet — to spit at
him and trample upon him — but I repressed those fierce and
dangerous emotions. I had a better game to play — I had an
exquisite torture in store for him, compared to which a hand-
to-hand fight was mere vulgar fooling. Vengeance ought to
ripen slowly in the strong heat of intense wrath, till of itself.
it falls — hastily snatched before its time it is like unmellowed
fruit, sour and ungrateful to the palate. So I let my dear
friend — my wife s consoler — saunter on his heedless way with-
out interference — I passed, leaving him to indulge in amorous
musings to his false heart's content. I entered Naples, and
found a night's lodging at one of the usual resorts for men of
my supposed craft, and, strange to say, I slept soundly and
dreamlessly. Recent illness, fatigue, fear, and sorrow, all
aided to throw me like an exhausted child upon the quiet
bosom of slumber, but perhaps the most powerfully soothing
opiate to my brain was the consciousness I had of a practical
plan of retribution — more terrible perhaps than any human
creature had yet devised, so far as I knew. Unchristian you
call me ? I tell you again, Christ never loved a woman !
Had He done so, He would have left us some special code
of justice.

CHAPTER IX.

I ROSE very early the next morning — I was more than ever
strengthened in my resolutions of the past night — my proj-
jects were entirely formed, and nothing remained now but
for me to carry them out. Unobserved of any one I took
my way again to the vault. I carried with me a small lan-
tern, a hammer, and some strong nails. Arrived at the
cemetery I looked carefully everywhere about me, lest some
stray mourner or curious stranger might possibly be in the
neighborhood. Not a soul was in sight. Making use of the
secret passage, I soon found myself on the scene of my
recent terrors and sufferings, all of which seemed now so
slight in comparison with the mental torture of my present

70 VENDETTA!

condition. I weni #tt<tight to the spot where I had left the
coffined treasure — I possessed myself of all the rolls of papel
money, and disposed them in various small packages about
my person and in the lining of my clothes till, as I stood, I
tvas worth many thousand of francs. Then with the help oi
the tools I had brought, I mended the huge chest in the split
places where I had forced it open, and nailed it up fast so
that it looked as if it had never been touched. I lost no
time over my task, for I was in haste. It was my intention
to leave Naples for a fortnight or more, and I purposed
taking my departure that very day. Before leaving the
vault I glanced at the coffin I myself had occupied. Should
I mend that and nail it up as though my body were still in-
side ? No — better leave it as it was — roughly broken open —
it would serve my purpose better so. As soon as I had
finished all I had to do, I clambered through the private
passage, closing it after me with extra care and caution, and
then I betook myself directly to the Molo. On making
inquiries among the sailors who were gathered there, I heard
that a small coasting brig was on the point of leaving for
Palermo. Palermo would suit me as well as any other place :
I sought out the captain of the vessel. He was a brown-faced,
merry-eyed mariner — he showed his glittering white teeth in
the most amiable of smiles when I expressed my desire to take
passage with him, and consented to the arrangement at once
for a sum which I thought extremely moderate, but which I
afterward discovered to be about treble his rightful due.
But the handsome rogue cheated me with such grace and
exquisite courtesy, that I would scarcely have had him act
otherwise than he did. I hear a good deal of the "plain
blunt honesty " of the English. I dare say there is some
truth in it, but for my own part I would rather be cheated by
a friendly fellow who gives you a cheery word and a bright
look than receive exact value for my money from the " plan,
blunt " boor who seldom has the common politeness to wish
you a good-day.

We got under way at about nine o'clock — the morning was
bright, and the air, for Naples, was almost cool. The water
rippling against the sides of our little vessel had a gurgling,
chatty murmur, as though it were talking vivaciously of all
the pleasant things it experienced between the rising and the
setting of the sun; of the corals and trailing sea-weed that
grew in its blue depths, of the lithe glittering fish that darted
hither and thither between its little waves, of the delicate

VENDETTA! 71

shells in which dwelt still more delicate inhabitants, fantastic
small creatures as fine as filmy lace, that peeped from the
white and pink doors of their transparent habitations, and
looked as enjoyingly on the shimmering blue-green of their
ever-moving element as we look on the vast dome of our sky,
bespangled thickly with stars. Of all these things, and many
more as strange and sweet, the gossiping water babbled un-
ceasingly ; it had even something to say to me concerning
woman and woman's love. It told me gleefully how many
fair female bodies it had seen sunk in the cold embrace of
the conquering sea, bodies, dainty and soft as the sylphs of
a poet's dream, yet which, despite their exquisite beauty,
had been flung to and fro in cruel sport by the raging billows,
and tossed among pebbles for the monsters of the de-p to
feed upon.

As I sat idly on the vessel's edge and looked down, down
into the clear Mediterranean, brilliantly blue as a lake of
melted sapphires, I fancied I could see her the Delilah of
my life, lying prone on the golden sand, her rich hair floating
straightly around her like yellow weed, her hands clinched
in the death agony, her laughing lips blue with the piercing
chilliness of the washing tide — powerless to move or smile
again. She would look well so, I thought — better to my
mind than she looked in the arms of her lover last night. I
fell into a train of profound meditation — a touch on my
shoulder startled me. I. looked up, the captain of the bri&
stood beside me. He smiled and held out a cigarette.

" The signer wil? smoke ? " he said courteously.

I accepted the little roll of fragrant Havanna half me-
chanically.

" Why do you call me signer ? " I inquired brusquely.
" I am a coral-fisher."

The little man shrugged his shoulders and bowed deferen-
tially, yet with the smile still dancing gayly in his eyes and
dimpling his olive cheeks.

" Oh, certainly ! As the signor pleases — ma — And he
ended with another expressive shrug and bow.

I looked at him fixedly. " What do you mean ? " I asked
with some sternness.

With that birdlike lightness and swiftness which were part
of his manner, the Sicilian skipper bent forward and laid a
brown finger on my wrist.

" Stusa, viprego / But the hands are not those of a fisher
of coral."

72 VENDETTA!

I glanced down at them. True enough, their smoothness
and pliant shape betrayed my disguise — the gay little captain
was sharp-witted enough to note the contrast between them
and the rough garb I wore, though no one else with whom I
had come in contact had been as keen of observation as he.
At first I was slightly embarrassed by his remark — but after
a moment's pause I met his gaze frankly, and lighting my
cigarette I said, carelessly :

" Ebbene! And what then, my friend ? "

He made a deprecatory gesture with his hands.

" Nay, nay, nothing — but only this. The signor must un-
derstand he is perfectly safe with me. My tongue is dis-
creet— I talk of things only that concern myself. The sig-
nor has good reasons for what he does — of that I am sure.
He has suffered ; it is enough to look in his face to see that.
Ah, Dio / there are so many sorrows in life ; there is love,"
he enumerated rapidly on his fingers — " there is revenge —
there are quarrels — there is loss of money ; any of these will
drive a man from place to place at all hours and in all
weathers. Yes ; it is so, indeed — I know it ! The signor
has trusted himself in my boat — I desire to assure him of my
best services."

And he raised his red cap with so charming a candor that
in my lonely and morose condition I was touched to the
heart. Silently I extended my hand — he caught it with an
air in which respect, sympathy, and entire friendliness were
mingled. And yet he overcharged me for my passage, you
exclaim ! Ay — but he would not have made me the object
of impertinent curiosity for twenty times the money ! You
cannot understand the existence of such conflicting elements
in the Italian character ? No — I dare say not. The ten-
dency of the calculating northerner under the same circum-
stances would have been to make as much out of me as pos-
sible by means of various small and contemptible items, and
then to go with broadly honest countenance to the nearest
police-station and describe my suspicious appearance and
manner, thus exposing me to fresh expense besides personal
annoyance. With the rare tact that distinguishes the
southern races the captain changed the conversation by a
reference to_ the tobacco we were both enjoying.

" It is good, is it not ? " he asked.

" Excellent ! " I answered, as indeed it was.

His white teeth glittered in a smile of amusement.

*\\ should be of the finest quality — for it is a present from

VENDETTA! yj

one who will smoke nothing but the choice brands. Ah,
Dio I what a fine gentleman spoiled is Carmelo Neri ! "

I could not repress a slight start of surprise. What ca-
price of Fate associated me with this famous brigand ? I was
actually smoking his tobacco, and I owed all my present
wealth to his «tolen treasures secreted in my family vault !

" You know the man, then ? " I inquired with some curi-
osity.

" Know him ? As well as I know myself. Let me see, it
is two months — yes — two months to-day since he was with
me on board this very vessel. It happened in this way — 1
was at Gaeta — he came to me and told me the gendarmes
were after him. He offered me more gold than I ever had
in my life to take him to Termini, from whence he could get
to one of his hiding-places in the Montemaggiore. He
brought Teresa with him ; he found me alone on the brig—
my men had gone ashore. He said, * Take us to Termini
and I will give you so much ; refuse and I will slit your
throat.' Ha ! ha ! ha ! That was good. I laughed at him
I put a chair for Teresa on deck, and gave her some big
peaches. I said, ' See, my Carmelo ! what use is there in
threats ? You will not kill me, and I shall not betray you.
You are a thief, and a bad thief — by all the saints you are —
but I dare say you would not be much worse than the hotel'
keepers, if you could only keep your hand off your knife.'
(For you know, signer, if you once enter a hotel you must
pay almost a ransom before you can get out again !) Yes — •
and I reasoned with Carmelo in this manner : I told him, ' I
do not want a large fortune for carrying you and Teresa
across to Termini — pay me the just passage and we shall
part friends, if only for Teresa's sake.' Well, he was sur-
prised. He smiled that dark smile of his, which may mean
gratitude or murder. He looked at Teresa. She sprung up
from her seat, and let her peaches fall from her lap on the
deck. She put her little hands on mine — the tears were in
her pretty blue eyes. 'You are a good man,' she said,
' Some woman must love you very much ! ' Yes — she said
that. And she was right. Our Lady be praised for it ! "

And his dark eyes glanced upward with a devout gesture
of thanksgiving. I looked at him with a sort of jealous
hunger gnawing at my heart. Here was another self delude4
fool — a fond wretch feasting on the unsubstantial food of a
pleasant dream — a poor dupe who believed in tjie truth Ql
woman 1 *

74 VENDETTA!

" YO& are a happy man," 1 said with a forced smile ; " you
have a guiding star for your life as well as for your boat — a
woman who loves you and is faithful ? is it so ? "

He answered me directly and simply, raising hi** cap
slightly as he did so.

" Yes, signer — my mother."

I was deeply touched by his naive and unexpected reply —
more deeply than I cared to show. A bitter regret stirred
in my soul — why, oh, why had my mother died so young 1
Why had I never known the sacred joy that seemed to vi-
brate through the frame, and sparkle in the eyes of this com-
mon sailor ! Why must I be forever alone, with a curse of a
woman's lie on my life, weighing me down to the dust and
ashes of a desolate despair! Something in my face must
have spoken my thoughts, for the captain said, gently :

" The signer has no mother ? "

" She died when I was but a child," I answered, briefly.

The Sicilian puffed lightly at his cigarette in silence — the
silence of an evident compassion. To relieve him of his
friendly embarrassment, I said :

" You spoke of Teresa ? Who is Teresa ? "

" Ah, you may well ask, signer ! No one knows who she
is ; she loves Carmelo Neri, and there all is said. Such a lit-
tle thing she is — so delicate ! like a foam-bell on the waves ;
and Carmelo — You have seen Carmelo, signer ? "

I shook my head in the negative.

" Ebbene! Carmelo is big and rough and black like a wolf
of the forests, all hair and fangs ; Teresa is, well ! you have
seen a little cloud in the sky at night, wandering past the moon
all flecked with pale gold ? — that is Teresa. She is small
and slight as a child ; she has rippling curls, and soft praying
eyes, and tiny, weak, white hands, not strong enough to snap
a twig in two. Yet she can do anything with Carmelo — she
is the one soft spot in his life."

" I wonder if she is true to him," I muttered, half to my-
self and half aloud.

The captain caught up my words with an accent of surprise.

" True to him ? Ah, Dio / but the signer does not know
her. There was one of Carmelo's own band, as bold and
handsome a cut-throat as ever lived — he was mad for Teresa —
he followed her everywhere like a beaten cur. One day he
found her alone ; he tried to embrace her — she snatched a
knife from his own girdle and stabbed him with it, like a
Uttle furyl She did not kill him then, but Carmelo did

VEND ETTA I 75

afterward. To think of a little woman like that with such a
devil in her ! It is her boast that no man, save Carmelo,
has ever touched so much as a ringlet of her hair. Ay ; she
is true to him — more's the pity."

"Why — you would not have her false ? " I asked.

" Nay, nay — for a false woman deserves death — but still it
is a pity Teresa should have fixed her love on Carmelo. Such
a man ! One day the gendarmes will have him, then he will
be in the galleys for life, and she will die. Yes — you may be
sure of that ! If grief does not kill her quickly enough, then
she will kill herself, that is certain ! She is slight and frail to
look at as a flower, but her soul is strong as iron. She will
have her own way in death as well as in love — some women
are made so, and it is generally the weakest-looking among
them who have the most courage."

Our conversation was here interrupted by one of the sailors
who came for his master's orders. The talkative skipper, with
an apologetic smile and bow, placed his box of cigarettes
beside me where I sat, and left me to my own reflections.

I was not sorry to be alone. I needed a little breathing time
— a rest in which to think, though my thoughts, like a new
solar system, revolved round the red planet of one central idea,
Vengeance. " A false woman deserves death." Even this
simple Sicilian mariner said so. " Go and kill her, go and kill
her ! " These words reiterated themselves over and over again
in my ears, till I found myself almost uttering them aloud
My soul sickened at the contemplation of the woman Teresa —
the mistress of a wretched brigand whose name was fraught
with horror — whose looks were terrific — she, even she could
keep herself sacred from the profaning touch of other men's
caresses — she was proud of being faithful to her wolf of the
mountains, whose temper was uncertain and treacherous — she
could make lawful boast of her fidelity to her blood-stained
lover — while Nina — the wedded wife of a noble whose descent
was lofty and unsullied, could tear off the fair crown of honor-
able marriage and cast it in the dust — could take the dignity
of an ancient family and trample upon it — could make herself
so low and vile that even this common Teresa, knowing all,
might and most probably would, refuse to touch her hand, con-
sidering it polluted. Just God ! what had Carmelo Neri done
to deserve the priceless jewel of a true woman's heart ? what
had /done to merit such foul deception as that which I was
now called upon to avenge ? Suddenly I thought of my child.
Her memory came upon me like a ray of light — I had almost

76 VENDETTA!

forgotten her. Poor little blossom ! — the slow hot tears forced
themselves between my eyelids, as I called up before my fancy
the picture of the soft baby face — the young untroubled eyes —
the little coaxing mouth always budding into innocent kisses !
What should I do with her ? When the plan of punishment I
had matured in my brain was carried out to its utmost, should
I take her with me far, far away into some quiet corner of the
world, and devote my life to hers ? Alas ! alas ! she, too,
would be a woman and beautiful — she was a flower born of a
poisoned tree, who could say that there might not be a canker-
worm hidden even in her heart, which waited but for the touch
of maturity to commence its work of destruction ! Oh, men !
you that have serpents coiled round your lives in the shape of
fair false women — if God has given you children by them, the
curse descends upon you doubly ! Hide it as you will under
the society masks we are all forced to wear, you know there is
nothing morf keenly torturing than to see innocent babes look
trustingly in the deceitful eyes of an unfaithful wife, and
call her by the acred name of "Mother" Eat ashes and
drink wormwood, you shall find them sweet in comparison to
that nauseating bitterness ! For the rest of the day I was very
much alone. The captain of the brig spoke cheerily to me
now and then, but we were met by light contrary winds that
necessitated his giving most of his attention to the manage-
ment of his vessel, so that he could not permit himself to
yield to the love of gossip that was inherent in him. The
weather was perfect, and notwithstanding our constant shift-
ing and tacking about to catch the erratic breeze, the gay
little brig made merry and rapid way over the sparkling
Mediterranean, at a rate that promised our arrival at Palermo
by the sunset of the following day. As the evening came on
the wind freshened, and by the time the moon soared like a
large bright bird into the sky, we were scudding along side-
ways, the edge of our vessel leaning over to kiss the waves
that gleamed like silver and gold, flecked here and there with
phosphorescent flame. We skimmed almost under the bows
of a magnificent yacht — the English flag floated from her
mast — her sails glittered purely white in the moonbeams, and
she sprung over the water like a sea-gull. A man, whose
tall athletic figure was shown off to advantage by the yachting
costume he wore, stood on deck, his arm thrown round the
waist of a girl beside him. We were but a minute or two
passing the stately vessel, yet I saw plainly this loving group
of two, and — 1 pitied the man 1 Why ? He was English un-

VENDETTA! 77

doubtedly — the son of a country where the very soil is sup-
posed to be odorous of virtue — therefore the woman beside
him must be a perfect pearl of purity ; an Englishman never
makes a mistake in these things ! Never ? Are you sure ?
Ah, believe me, there is not much difference nowadays be-
tween women of opposite nations. Once there was — I am
willing to admit that possibility. Once, from all accounts
received, the English rose was the fitting emblem of the Eng-
lish woman, but now, since the world has grown so wise and
made such progress in the art of running rapidly downhill, is
even the aristocratic British peer quite easy in his mind re-
garding his fair peeress ? Can he leave her to her own de-
vices with safety ? Are there not men, boastful too of their
" blue blood," who are perhaps ready to stoop to the thief's trick
of entering his house during his absence by means of private
keys, and stealing away his wife's affections ?— and is not she,
though a mother of three or four children, ready to receive
with favor the mean robber of her husband's rights and honor ?
Read the London newspapers any day and you will find that
once " moral " England is running a neck and neck race with
other less hypocritical nations in pursuit of social vice. The
barriers that once existed are broken down ; " professional
beauties " are received in circles where their presence for-
merly would have been the signal for all respectable women
instantly to retire ; ladies of title are satisfied to caper on the
boards of the theatrical stage, in costumes that display their
shape as undisguisedly as possible to the eyes of the grin-
ning public, or they sing in concert halls for the pleasure of
showing themselves off, and actually accept the vulgar ap-
plause of unwashed crowds with a smile and a bow of grati-
tude ! Ye gods ! what has become of the superb pride of
the old reigme — the pride which disdained all ostentation and
clung to honor more closely than life ! What a striking sign
of the times too, is this : let a woman taint her virtue before
marriage, she is never forgiven— her sin is never forgotten ;
but let her do what she will when she has a husband's name
to screen her, and society winks its eyes at her crimes.
Couple this fact with the general spirit of mockery that pre-
vails in fashionabls circles — mockery of religion, mockery of
sentiment, mockery of all that is best and noblest in the
human heart — add to it the general spread of " free-thought,"
and therefore of conflicting and unstable opinions — let all
these things together go on for a few years longer and Eng-
land will stare at her sister nations like a bold woman in a

78 VENDETTA!

domino — her features partly concealed from a pretense at
shame, but her eyes glittering coldly through the mask, betray-
ing to all who look at her how she secretly revels in her new
code of lawlessness coupled with greed. For she will always
be avaricious — and the worst of it is, that her nature being
prosaic, there will be no redeeming grace to cast a glamour
about her. France is unvirtuous enough, God knows, yet
there is a sunshiny smile on her lips that cheers the heart.
Italy is also unvirtuous, yet her voice is full of bird-like
melody, and her face is a dream of perfect poetry ! But Eng-
land unvirtuous will be like a cautiously calculating, some-
what shrewish matron, possessed of unnatural and unbecom-
ing friskiness, without either laugh, or song, or smile — her
one god, Gold, and her one commandment, the suggested
eleventh, " Thou shall not be found out ! "

I slept that night on deck. The captain offered me the use
of his little cabin, and was, in his kind-hearted manner, truly
distressed at my persistent refusal to occupy it.

" It is bad to sleep in the moonlight, signer," he said, anx-
iously. " It makes men mad, they say."

I smiled. Had madness been my destiny, I should have
gone mad last night, I thought !

" Have no fear ! " I answered him, gently. " The moon-
light is a joy to me — it has no impression on my mind save
that of peace. I shall rest well here, my friend — do not
trouble yourself about me."

He hesitated and then abruptly left me, to return in the
space of two or three minutes with a thick rug of sheepskin.
He insisted so earnestly on my accepting this covering as a
protection from the night air, that, to please him, I yielded to
his entreaties and lay down, wrapped in its warm folds. The
good-natured fellow then wished me a "J3uon riposo, signer ! "
and descended to his own resting-place, humming a gay tune
as he went. From my recumbent posture on the deck I
stared upward at the myraid stars that twinkled softly in the
warm violet skies — stared long and fixedly till it seemed to me
that our ship had also become a star, and was sailing through
space with its glittering companions. What inhabitants peo-
pled those fair planets, I wondered ? Mere men and women
who lived and loved and lied to one another as bravely as we
do ? or superior beings to whom the least falsehood is un-
known ? Was there one world among them where no women
were born ? Vague fancies — odd theories — flitted through
my brain. I lived over again the agony of my imprisonment

VENDETTA! ft

in the vaults — again I forced myself to contemplate the scene
I had witnessed between my wife and her lover — again I
meditated on every small detail requisite to the fulfillment of
the terrible vengeance I had designed. I have often won-
dered how, in countries where divorce is allowed, a wronged
husband can satisfy himself with so meager a compensation
for his injuries as the mere getting rid of the woman who has
deceived him. It is no punishment to her — it is what she
wishes. There is not even any very special disgrace in it ac-
cording to the present standard of social observances. Were
public whipping the recognized penalty for the crime of a
married woman's infidelity, there would be fewer of the like
scandals — the divorce might follow the scourging. A daintily
brought-up feminine creature would think twice, nay, fifty
times, before she would run the risk of allowing her deli-
cate body to be lashed by whips wielded by the merciless hands
of a couple of her own sex — such a prospect of degradation,
pain, shame, and outraged vanity would be more effectual to
kill the brute in her than all the imposing ceremonials of
courts of law and special juries. Think of it, kings, lords,
and commons ! Whipping at the cart's tail was once a legal
punishment — if you would stop the growing immorality and
reckless vice of women you had best revive it again — only
apply it to rich as well as to poor, for it is most probable that
the gay duchesses and countesses of your lands will need its
sharp services more frequently than the work-worn wives of
your laboring men. Luxury, idleness, and love of dress are
hot-beds for sin — look for it, therefore, not so much in the
hovels of the starving and naked as in the rose-tinted, musk-
scented boudoirs of the aristocracy — look for it, as your brave
physicians would search out the seeds of a pestilence that
threatens to depopulate a great city, and trample it out if you
can and will — if you desire to keep the name of your countries
glorious in the eyes of future history. Spare not the rod be-
cause " my lady " forsooth ! with her rich hair falling around
her in beauteous dishevelment and her eyes bathed in tears,
implores your mercy — for by very reason of her wealth and
station she deserves less pity than the painted outcast who
knows not where to turn for bread. A high post demands
high duty ! But I talk wildly. Whipping is done away with,
for women at least — we give a well-bred shudder of disgust at
the thought of it. When dp we shudder with equal disgust at
our own social enormities ? " Seldom or never. Meanwhile,
in cases of infidelity, husbands and wives can separate and go

So VENDETTA !

on their different ways in comparative peace. Yes — some
can and some do ; but I am not one of these. No law in all the
world can mend the torn flag of my honor ; therefore I must
be a law to myself — a counsel, a jury, a judge, all in one —
and from my decision there can be no appeal ! Then I must
act as executioner — and what torture was ever so perfectly
unique as the one I have devised ? So I mused, lying broadly
awake, with face upturned to the heavens, watching the light
of the moon pouring itself out on the ocean like a shower of
gold, while the water rushed gurgling softly against the sides
of the brig, and broke into the laughter of white foam as we
scudded along.

CHAPTER X.

ALL the next day the wind was in our favor, and we arrived
at Palermo an hour before sunset. We had scarcely run into
harbor when a small party of officers and gendarmes, heavily
laden with pistols and carbines, came on board and showed a
document authorizing them to search the brig for Carmelo
Neri. I was somewhat anxious for the safety of my good
friend the captain — but he was in nowise dismayed ; he smiled
and welcomed the armed emissaries of the government as
though they were his dearest friends.

" To give you my opinion frankly," he said to them, as he
opened a flask of fine Chianti for their behoof, " I believe
the villain Carmelo is somewhere about Gaeta. I would not
tell you a lie — why should I ? Is there not a reward offered,
and am not I poor ? Look you, I would do my best to assist
you ! "

One of the men looked at him dubiously.

" We received information," he said, in precise, business-
like tones, " that Neri escaped from Gaeta two months since,
and was aided and abetted in his escape by one Andrea
Luziani, owner of the coasting brig ' Laura,' journeying for
purposes of trade between Naples and Palermo. You are
Andrea Luziani, and this is the brig * Laura,' — we are right
in this ; is it not so ? "

" As if you could ever be wrong, caro ! " cried the captain
with undiminished gayety, clapping him on the shoulder.
" Nay, if .St. Peter should have the bad taste to shut you out
of heaven, you would be cunning enough to find another and
better entrance ! Ah, Dio ! I believe it ! Yes, you are right

VENDETTA ! Si

about my name and the name of my brig, but in the other
things," — here he shook his ringers with an expressive sign
of denial — " you are wrong — wrong — all wrong ! " He broke
into a gay laugh. " Yes, wrong — but we will not quarrel
about it ! Have some more Chianti ! Searching for brig-
ands is thirsty work. Fill your glasses, amid — spare not
the flask — there are twenty more below stairs ! "

The officers smiled in spite of themselves, as they drank
the proffered wine, and the youngest-looking of the party,
a brisk, handsome fellow, entered into the spirit of the cap-
tain with ardor, though he evidently thought he should trap
him into a confession unawares, by the apparent careless-
ness and bonhomie of his manner."

" Bravo, Andrea ! " he cried, merrily. " So ! let us all be
friends together ! Besides, what harm is there in taking a
brigand for a passenger — no doubt he would pay you better
than most cargoes ! "

But Andrea was not to be so caught. On the contrary ;
he raised his hands and eyes with an admirably feigned ex-
pression of shocked alarm.

" Our Lady and the saints forgive you ! " he exclaimed,
piously, " for thinking that I, an honest marinaro, would ac-
cept one baiocco from an accursed brigand ! Ill-luck would
follow me ever after ! Nay, nay — there has been a mistake ;
I know nothing of Carmelo Neri, and I hope the saints will
grant that I may never meet him ! "

He spoke with so much apparent sincerity that the officers
in command were evidently puzzled, though the fact of their
being so did not deter them from searching the brig thorough-
ly. Disappointed in their expectations, they questioned all
on board, including myself, but were of course unable to
obtain any satisfactory replies. Fortunately they accepted
my costume as a sign of my trade, and though they glanced
curiously at my white hair, they seemed to think there was
nothing suspicious about me. After a few more effusive
compliments and civilities on the part of the captain, they
took their departure, completely baffled, and quite convinced
that the information they had received had been somehow
incorrect. As soon as they were out of sight, the merry
Andrea capered on his deck like a child in a play-ground,
and snapped his ringers defiantly.

" Per Bacco / " he cried, ecstatically, " they should as soon
make a priest tell confessional secrets, as force me, honest
Aadrea Luziani, to betray a man who has given me good
6

82 VEND ETTA \

cigars f Let them run back to Gaeta and hunt in every hole
and corner ! Carmelo may rest comfortably in the Monte-
maggiore without the shadow of a gendarme to disturb him !
Ah, signer ! " for I had advanced to bid him farewell — " I
am truly sorry to part company with you! You do not
blame me for helping- away a poor devil who trusts me ? "

" Not I ! " I answered him heartily. " On the contrary, I
would there were more like you. Ad.iio ! and with this,"
here I gave him the passage-money we had agreed upon,
" accept my thanks. I shall not forget your kindness •, if
you ever need a friend, send to me."

" But," he said, with a naive mingling of curiosity and
timidity, " how can I do that if the signor does not tell me
his name ?"

I had thought of this during the past night. I knew it
would be necessary to take a different name, and I had re-
solved on adopting that of a school-friend, a boy to whom I
had been profoundly attached in my earliest youth, and who
had been drowned before my eyes while bathing in the Vene-
tian Lido. So I answered Andrea's question at once and
without effort.

" Ask for the Count Cesare Oliva," I said. " I shall re-
turn to Naples shortly, and should you seek me, you will find
me there."

The Sicilian doffed his cap and saluted me profoundly.

" I guessed well," he remarked, smilingly, " that the Sig-
nor Conte's hands were not those of a coral-fisher. Oh, yes !
I know a gentleman when I see him — though we Sicilians
say we are all gentlemen. It is a good boast, but alas ! not
always true ! A rivederci, signor ! Command me when you
will — I am your servant ! "

Pressing his hand, I sprung lightly from the brig on to the
quay.

" A rivederci / " I called to him. " Again, and yet again,
a thousand thanks ! "

"Oh! tropp onore, signor — tropp* onore!" and thus I left
him, standing still bareheaded on the deck of his little vessel,
with a kindly light on his brown face like the reflection of a
fadeless sunbeam. Good-hearted, merry rogue ! His ideas of
right and wrong were oddly mixed — yet his lies were better
than many truths told us by our candid friends — and you
may be certain the great Recording Angel knows the differ-
ence between a lie that saves and a truth that kills, and
metes out Heaven's reward or punishment accordingly.

VEND ETTA I 83

My first care, when I found myself in the streets of
Palermo, was to purchase clothes of the best material and
make adapted to a gentleman's wear. I explained to the
tailor whose shop I entered for this purpose that I had joined
a party of coral-fishers for mere amusement, and had for the
time adopted their costume. He believed my story the more
readily as I ordered him to make several more suits for me
immediately, giving him the name of Count Cesare Oliva,
and the address of the best hotel in the city. He served me
with obsequious humility, and allowed me the use of his
private back-room, where I discarded my fisher garb for the
dress of a gentleman — a ready-made suit that happened to
fit me passably well. Thus arrayed as became my station, I
engaged rooms at the chief hotel of Palermo for some weeks
— weeks that were for me full of careful preparation for the
task of vengeful retribution that lay before me. One of my
principal objects was to place the money I had with me in
safe hands. I sought out the leading banker in Palermo,
and introducing myself under my adopted name, I stated
that I had newly returned to Sicily after some years' absence.
He received me well, and though he appeared astonished at
the large amount of wealth I had brought, he was eager and
willing enough to make satisfactory arrangements with me
for its safe keeping, including the bag of jewels, some of
which, from their unusual size and luster, excited his genuine
admiration. Seeing this, I pressed on his acceptance a fine
emerald and two large brilliants, all unset, and requested him
to have a ring made of them for his own wear. Surprised at
my generosity, he at first refused — but his natural wish to
possess such rare gems finally prevailed, and he took them,
overpowering me with thanks — while I was perfectly satisfied
to see that I had secured his services so thoroughly by my
jeweled bribe, that he either forgot, or else saw no necessity
to ask me for personal references, which in my position would
have been exceeding difficult, if not impossible, to obtain.
When this business transaction was entirely completed, I
devoted myself to my next consideration — which was to dis-
guise myself so utterly that no one should possibly be able
to recognize the smallest resemblance in me to the late Fabio
Romani, either by look, voice, or trick of manner. I had
always worn a mustache — it had turned white in company
with my hair. I now allowed my beard to grow — it came
out white also. But in contrast with these contemporary
signs of age, my face began to fill up and look young again j

84 VEND ETTA t

my eyes, always large and dark, resumed their old flashing,
half-defiant look — a look, which it seemed to me, would make
some familiar suggestion to those who had once known me
as I was before I died. Yes — they spoke of things that
must be forgotten and unuttered •, what should I do with
these tell-tale eyes of mine ?

I thought, and soon decided. Nothing was easier than to
feign weak sight — sight that was dazzled by the heat and
brilliancy of the southern sunshine ; I would wear smoke-
colored glasses. I bought them as soon as the idea occur-
red to me, and alone in my room before the mirror I tried
their effect. I was satisfied ; they perfectly completed the
disguise of n;y face. With them and my white hair and
beard, I looked like a well-preserved man of fifty-five or so,
whose only physical ailment was a slight affection of the
eyes.

The next thing to alter was my voice. I had, naturally,
a peculiarly soft voice and a rapid, yet clear, enunciation,
and it was my habit, as it is the habit of almost every Italian,
to accompany my words with the expressive pantomime of
gesture. I took myself in training as an actor studies for a
particular part. I cultivated a harsh accent, and spoke with
deliberation and coldness — occasionally with a sort of sarcas
tic brusquerie, carefully avoiding the least movement of hands
or head during converse. This was exceedingly difficult of
attainment to me, and took me an infinite deal of time and
trouble ; but I had for my model a middle-aged Englishman
who was staying in the same hotel as myself, and whose
starched stolidity never relaxed for a single instant. He was
a human iceberg — perfectly respectable, with that air <of
decent gloom about him which is generally worn by all the
sons of Britain while sojourning in a foreign clime. I copied
his manners as closely as possible ; I kept my mouth shut
with the same precise air of not-to-be-en lightened obstinacy
— I walked with the same upright drill demeanor — and I sur-
veyed the scenery with the same superior contempt. I knew
I had succeeded at last, for I overneard a waiter speaking of
me to his companion as " the wnite bear ! "

One other thing I did. I wrote a courteous note to the
editor of the principal newspaper published in Naples— a
newspaper that I knew always found its way to the Villa
Romani — and inclosing fifty francs, I requested him to insert
a paragraph for me in his next issue. This paragraph wa*
worded somewhat as follows :

VENDETTA ! 85

" The Signer Conte Cesare Oliva, a nobleman who has
been for many years absent from his native country, has,
we understand, just returned, possessed of almost fabulous
wealth, and is about to arrive in Naples, where he purposes
making his home for the future. The leaders of society here
will no doubt welcome with enthusiasm so distinguished an
addition to the brilliant circles commanded by their influ-
ence."

The editor obeyed my wishes, and inserted what I sent
him, word for word as it was written. He sent me the paper
containing it " with a million compliments," but was dis-
creetly silent concerning the fifty francs, though I am certain
he pocketed them with unaffected joy. Had I sent him
double the money, he might have been induced to announce
me as a king or emperor in disguise. Editors of newspapers
lay claim to be honorable men ; they may be so in England,
but in Italy most of them would do anything for money.
Poor devils ! who can blame them, considering how little
they get by their limited dealings in pen and ink! In fact,
I am not at all certain but that a few English newspaper
editors might be found capable of accepting a bribe, if large
enough, and if offered with due delicacy. There are surely
one or two magazines, for instance, in London, that would
not altogether refuse to insert an indifferently, even badly
written article, if paid a thousand pounds down for doing
it !

On the last day but one of my sojourn in Palermo I was
reclining in an easy-chair at the window of the hotel smok-
ing-room, looking out on the shimmering waters of the gulf.
It was nearly eight o'clock, and though the gorgeous colors
of the sunset still lingered in the sky, the breeze blew in from
the sea somewhat coldly, giving warning of an approaching
chilly night. The character I had adopted, namely that of a
somewhat harsh and cynical man who had seen life and did
not like it, had by constant hourly practice become with me
almost second nature — indeed, I should have had some
difficulty in returning to the easy and thoughtless abandon
of my former self. I had studied the art of being churlish
till I really was churlish ; I had to act the chief character in
a drama, and I knew my part thoroughly well. I sat quietly
puffing at my cigar and thinking of nothing in particular — for,
as far as my plans went, I had done with thought, and all my
energies were strung up to action — when I was startled by a
loud and increasing clamor, as of the shouting of a large

86 VENDETTA!

crowd coming onward like an overflowing tide. I leaned
out of the window, but could see nothing, and I was wonder-
ing what the noise could mean, when an excited waiter threw
open the door of the smoking-room and cried, breathlessly :

" Carmelo Neri, signer ! Carmelo Neri ! They have him,
fovcrino ! they have him at last ! "

Though almost as strongly interested in this news as the
waiter himself, I did not permit my interest to become mani-
fest. I never forgot for a second the character I had
assumed, and drawing the cigar slowly from my lips I merely
said :

" Then they have caught a great rascal. I congratulate
the Government ! Where is the fellow ? "

" In the great square," returned \htgarfon, eagerly. " If
the signer would walk round the corner he would see Car-
melo, bound and fettered. The saints have mercy upon
him ! The crowds there are thick as flies round a honey-
comb ! I must go thither myself — I would not miss the
sight for a thousand francs ! "

And he ran off, as full of the anticipated delight of looking
at a brigand as a child going to its first fair. I put on my hat
and strolled leisurely round to the scene of excitement. It
was a picturesque sight enough ; the square was black with a
sea of eager heads, and restless, gesticulating figures, and the
center of this swaying, muttering crowd was occupied by a
compact band of mounted gendarmes with drawn swords flash-
ing in the pale evening light — both horses and men nearly as
motionless as though cast in bronze. They were stationed op-
posite the head-quarters of thzCarabinieri, where the chief
o^icer of the party had dismounted to make his formal report
respecting the details of the capture before proceeding further.
Between these armed and watchful guards, with his legs
strapped to a sturdy mule, his arms tied fast behind him, and
his hands heavily manacled, was the notorious Neri, as dark
and fierce as a mountain thunder-storm. His head was uncov-
ered— his thick hair, long and unkempt, hung in matted locks
upon his shoulders — his heavy mustachios and beard were so
black and bushy that they almost concealed his coarse and
forbidding features — though I could see the tiger-like glitter
of his sharp white teeth as he bit and gnawed his under lip in
impotent fury and despair — and his eyes, like leaping flames,
blazed with a wrathful erocity from under his shaggy brows.
He was a huge, heavy man, broad and muscular ; his two
great hands clinched, tied and manacled behind him, looked

VENDETTA! 87

like formidable hammers capable of striking a man down dead
at one blow ; his whole aspect was repulsive and terrible —
there was no redeeming point about him — for even the
apparent fortitude he assumed was mere bravado — meretri-
cious courage — which the first week of the galleys would crush
out of him as easily as one crushes the juice out of a ripe
grape. He wore a nondescript costume of vari-colored linen,
arranged in folds that would have been the admiration of an
artist. It was gathered about him by means of a brilliant
scarlet sash negligently tied. His brawny arms were bare to
the shoulder — his vest was open, and displayed his strong
brown throat and chest heaving with the pent-up anger and
fear that raged within him. His dark grim figure was set off
by a curious effect of color in the sky — a long wide band of
crimson cloud, as though the sun-god had thrown down a
goblet of ruby wine and left it to trickle along the smooth
blue fairness of his palace floor — a deep after-glow, which
burned redly on the olive-tinted eager faces of the multitude
that were everywhere upturned in wonder and ill-judged
admiration to the brutal blackface of the notorious murderer
and thief, whose name had for years been the terror of Sicily.
I pressed through the crowd to obtain a nearer view, and as
I did so a sudden savage movement of Neri's bound body
caused the gendarmes to cross their swords in front of his
eyes with a warning clash. The brigand laughed hoarsely.

" Corpo di Cristo ! " he muttered — "think you a man tied
hand and foot can run like a deer ? I am trapped — I know
it ! But tell him" and he indicated some person in the
throng by a nod of his head, "tell him to come hither — I
have a message for him."

The gendarmes looked at one another, and then at the
swaying crowd about them in perplexity — they did not under-
stand.

Carmelo, without wasting more words upon them, raised
himself as uprightly as he could in his strained and bound
position, and called aloud :

" Luigi Biscardi ! Capitano ! Oh he — you thought I
could not see you ! Dio ! I should know you in hell I
Come near I have a parting word for you."

At the sound of his strong harsh voice, a silence half of ter-
ror, half of awe, fell upon the chattering multitude. There
was a sudden stir as the people made way for a young man
to pass through their ranks — a slight, tall, rather handsome
fellow, with a pale, face and cold, sneering eyes. He was

38 VENDETTA!

dressed with fastidious care and neatness in the uniform of
the Bersaglicrc — and he elbowed his way along with the easy
audacity of a privileged dandy. He came close up to the
brigand and spoke carelessly, with a slightly mocking smile
playing round the corners of his mouth.

" Ebbene / " he said, " you are caught at last, Carmelo !
You called me — here I am. What do you want with me,
rascal ? "

Neri uttered a ferocious curse between his teeth, and
looked for an instant like a wild beast ready to spring.

" You betrayed me," he said in fierce yet smothered
accents — "you followed me — you hunted me down ! Teresa
told me all. Yes — she belongs to you now — you have got
your wish. Go and take her — she waits for you — make her
speak and tell you how she loves you — if you can I "

Something jeering and withal threatening in the ruffian's
look, evidently startled the young officer, for he exclaimed
hastily :

" What do you mean, wretch ? You have not — my God 1
vou have not killed her ? "

Carmelo broke into a loud savage laugh.

" She has killed herself ! " he cried, exultingly. " Ha, ha,
I thought you would wince at that ! She snatched my knife
and stabbed herself with it ! Yes — rather than see your
lying white face again — rather than feel your accursed touch 1
Find her — she lies "dead and smiling up there in the mount-
ains and her last kiss was for me — for me — you understand!
Now go ! and may the devil curse you ! "

Again the gendarmes clashed their swords suggestively —
and the brigand resumed his sullen attitude of suppressed
wrath and feigned indifference. But the man to whom he
had spoken staggered and seemed about to fall — his pale
face grew paler — he moved away through the curious open-
eyed by-standers with the mechanical air of one who knows
not whether he be alive or dead. He had evidently received
an unexpected shock — a wound that pierced deeply and would
be a long time healing.

I approached the nearest gendarme and slipped a five-
france piece into his hand.

" May one speak ? " I asked, carelessly. The man hesitated.

" For one instant, signer. But be brief.

I addressed the brigand in a low clear-tone.

" Have you any message for one Andrea Luziani ? I am a
friend of his."

VENDETTA! 89

He looked at me and a dark smile crossed his features.

" Andrea is a good soul. Tell him if you will that Teresa
is dead. I am worse than dead. He will know that I did
not kill Teresa. I could not ! She had the knife in her
breast before I could prevent her. It is better so."

" She did that rather than become the property of another
man ? " I queried.

Carmelo Neri nodded in acquiescence. Either my sight
deceived me, or else this abandoned villain had tears glitter-
ing in the depth of his wicked eyes.

The gendarme made me a sign, and I withdrew. Almost
at the same moment the officer in command of the little de-
tachment appeared, his spurs clinking with measured metallic
music on the hard stones of the pavement — he sprung into
his saddle and gave the word — the crowd dispersed to the
right and left — the horses were put to a quick trot, and in a
few moments the whole party with the bulky frowning form
of the brigand in their midst had disappeared. The people
broke up into little groups talking excitedly of what had oc-
curred, and scattered here and there, returning to their homes
and occupations — and more swiftly than one could have im-
agined possible, the great square was left almost empty. I
paced up and down for awhile thinking deeply; I had before
my mind's eye the picture of the slight fair Teresa as de-
scribed by the Sicilian captain, lying dead in the solitudes
of the Montemaggiore with that self-inflicted wound in her
breast which had set her free of all men's love and persecu-
tion. There were some women then who preferred death to
infidelity ? Strange ! very strange ! common women of course
they must be — such as this brigand's mistress ; your daintily
fed, silk-robed duchess would find a dagger somewhat a
vulgar consoler — she would rather choose a lover, or better
still a score of lovers. It is only brute ignorance that selects
a grave instead of dishonor — modern education instructs us
more wisely, and teaches us not to be over-squeamish about
such a trifle as breaking a given word or promise. Blessed
age of progress ! Age of steady advancement when the
apple of vice is so cunningly disguised and so prettily painted
that we can actually set it on a porcelain dish and hand it
about among our friends as a valuable and choice fruit of
virtue — and no one finds out the fraud we are practicing,
nay, we scarcely perceive it ourselves, it is such an excellent
counterfeit !

As I walked to and fro, I found myself continually passing

90 VENDETTA t

the head office of the Carabinieri, and, acting on a sudden
impulse of curiosity, I at last entered the building, determined
to ask for a few particulars concerning the brigand's capture.
I was received by a handsome and intelligent-looking man,
who glanced at the card with which I presented myself, and
saluted me with courteous affability.

" Oh, yes ! " he said, in answer to my inquiries, " Neri has
given us a great deal of trouble. But we had our suspicions
that he had left Gaeta, where he was for a time in hiding. A
few stray bits of information gleaned here and there put us
on the right track."

" Was he caught easily, or did he show fight ? "

" He gave himself up like a lamb, signor ! It happened in
th's way. One of our men followed the woman who lived
with Neri, one Teresa, and traced her up to a certain point,
the corner of a narrow mountain pass — where she disappeared.
He reported this, and thereupon we sent out an armed party.
These crept at midnight two by two, till they were formed in
a close ring round the place where Neri was judged to be.
With the first beam of morning they rushed in upon him and
took him prisoner. It appears that he showed no surprise —
he merely said, ' I expected you ! ' He was found sitting by
the dead body of his mistress ; she was stabbed and newly
bleeding. No doubt he killed her, though he swears the con-
trary— lies are as easy to him as breathing."

" But where were his comrades ? I thought he commanded
A large band ? "

" So he did, signor ; and we caught three of the principals
only a fortnight ago, but of the others no trace can be found.
I suppose Carmelo himself dismissed them and sent them
far and wide through the country. At any rate, they are
disbanded, and with these sort of fellows, where there is no
union there is no danger."

" And Neri's sentence ? " I asked.

" Oh, the galleys for life of course ; there is no possible
alternative."

I thanked my informant, and left the office. I was glad to
have learned these few particulars, for the treasure I had dis-
covered in my own family vault was now more mine than ever.
There was not the remotest chance of any one of the Neri
band venturing so close to Naples in search of it, and I
thought with a grim smile that had the brigand chief himself
known the story of my wrongs, he would most probably have
rejoiced to think that his buried wealth was destined to aid

VENDETTA! 9*

me in carrying out so elaborate a plan of vengeance. All
difficulties smoothed themselves before me — obstacles were
taken out of my path — my way was made perfectly clear — each
trifling incident was a new finger-post pointing out the direct
road that led me to the one desired end. God himself seemed
on my side, as He is surely ever on the side of justice ! Let
not the unfaithful think that because they say long prayers
or go regularly and devoutly to church with meek faces and
piously folded hands that the Eternal Wisdom is deceived
thereby. My wife could pray — she could kneel like a lovely
saint in the dim religious light of the sacred altars, her deep
eyes upturned to the blameless, infinitely reproachful Christ
— and look you ! each word she uttered was a blasphemy,
destined to come back upon herself as a curse. Prayer is
dangerous for liars — it is like falling willfully on an upright
naked sword. Used as an honorable weapon the sword de-
fends— snatched up as the last resource of a coward it kills.

CHAPTER XI.

THE third week of September was drawing to its close
*hen I returned to Naples. The weather had grown cooler,
and favorable reports of the gradual decrease of the cholera
began to gain ground with the suffering and terrified popu-
lation. Business was resumed as usual, pleasure had again
her votaries, and society whirled round once more in its
giddy waltz as though it had never left off dancing. I arrived
in the city somewhat early in the day, and had time to make
some preliminary arrangements for my plan of action. I
secured the most splendid suite of apartments in the best
hotel, impressing the whole establishment with a vast idea
of my wealth and importance. I casually mentioned to the
landlord that I desired to purchase a carriage and horses —
that I needed a first-class valet, and a few other trifles of the
like sort, and added that I relied on his good advice and
recommendation as to the places where I should best obtain
all that I sought. Needless to say, he became my slave —
never was monarch better served than I — the very waiters
hustled each other in a race to attend upon me, and reports
of my princely fortune, generosity, and lavish expenditure,
began to flit from mouth to mouth — which was the result \
desired to obtain,

£t VENDETTA I

And now the evening of my first day in Naples came, and
I, the supposed Conte Cesare Oliva, the envied and flattered
noble, took the first step toward my vengeance. It was one
of the loveliest evenings possible, even in that lovely land — a
soft breeze blew in from the sea — the sky was pearl-like and
pure as an opal, yet bright with delicate shifting clouds of
crimson and pale mauve — small, fleecy flecks of radiance,
that looked like a shower of blossoms fallen from some far
invisible flower-land. The waters of the bay were slightly
ruffled by the wind, and curled into tender little dark-blue
waves tipped with light fringes of foam. After my dinner I
went out and took my way to a well-known and popular cafe
which used to be a favorite haunt of mine in the days when
I was known as Fabio Romani. Guido Ferrari was a con-
stant habitue of the place, and I felt that I should find him
there. The brilliant rose-white and gold saloons were crowded,
and owing to the pleasant coolness of the air there were
hundreds of little tables pushed far out into the street, at
which groups of persons were seated, enjoying ices, wine, or
coffee, and congratulating each other on the agreeable news
of the steady decrease of the pestilence that had ravaged the
city. I glanced covertly yet quickly round. Yes ! I was
not mistaken — there was my quondam friend, my traitorous
foe, sitting at his ease, leaning comfortably back in one chair,
his feet put up on another. He was smoking, and prancing
now and then through the columns of the Paris " Figaro."
He was dressed entirely in black — a hypocritical livery, the
somber hue of which suited his fine complexion and perfectly
handsome features to admiration. On the little finger of the
shapely hand that every now and then was raised to adjust
his cigar, sparkled a diamond that gave out a myriad scintil-
lations as it flashed in the evening light — it was of ex-
ceptional size and brilliancy, and even at a distance I recog-
nized it as my own property !

So ! — a love-gift, signor, or an in memoriam of the dear and
valued friend you have lost ? I wondered — watching him in
dark scorn the while — then recollecting myself, 1 sauntered
slowly toward him, and perceiving a disengaged table next to
his, I drew a chair to it and sat down. He looked at me in-
differently over the top of his newspaper — but there was
nothing specially attractive in the sight of a white-haired man
wearing smoke-colored spectacles, and he resumed his perusal
of the " Figaro " immediately. I rapped the end of my walk-
ing-cane on the table and summoned a waiter from whom I

VENDETTA! 93

ordered coffee. I then lighted a cigar, and imitating Fer-
rari's easy posture, smoked also. Something in my attitude
then appeared to strike him, for he laid down his paper and
again looked at me, this time with more interest and some-
thing of uneasiness. "Ca commence, man ami/" I thought,
but I turned my head slightly aside and feigned to be
absorbed in the view. My coffee was brought — I paid for
it and tossed the waiter an unusually large gratuity — he
naturally found it incumbent upon him to polish my table
with extra zeal, and to secure all the newspapers, pictorial or
otherwise, that were lying about, for the purpose of obse-
quiously depositing them in a heap at my right hand. I ad-
dressed this amiable garden in the harsh and deliberate
accents of my carefully disguised voice.

" By the way, I suppose you know Naples well ? "

" Oh, si, signor / "

" Ebbene, can you tell me the way to the house of one
Count Fabio Romani, a wealthy nobleman of this city ? "

Ha ! a good hit this time ! Though apparently not look-
ing at him I saw Ferrari start as though he had been stung,
and then compose himself in his seat with an air of attention.
The waiter meanwhile, in answer to my question, raised his
hands, eyes and shoulders all together with a shrug expres-
sive of resigned melancholy.

" Ah, gran Dio / t morto / "

" Dead ! " I exclaimed, with a pretended start of shocked
surprise. " So young ? Impossible ! "

" Eh ! what will you, signor ? It was la pesta ; there was
no remedy. La pesta cares nothing for youth or age, and
spares neither rich nor poor."

For a moment I leaned my head on my hand, affecting to
be overcome by the suddenness of the news. Then looking
up, I said, regretfully :

" Alas ! I am too late ! I was a friend of his father's. I
have been away for many years, and I had a great wish to
meet the young Romani whom I last saw as a child. Are
there any relations of his living — was he married ? "

The waiter, whose countenance had assumed a fitting lugu-
briousness in accordance with what he imagined were my
feelings, brightened up immediately as he replied eagerly :

" Oh, si, signor ! The Contessa Romani lives up at the
villa, though I believe she receives no one since her hus-
band's death. She is young and beautiful as an angel*
There is a little child too."

94 VENDETTA!

A hasty movement on the part of Ferrari caused me to
turn my eyes, or rather my spectacles, in his direction. He
leaned forward, and raising his hat with the old courteous
grace I knew so well, said politely :

" Pardon me, signer, for interrupting you ! I knew the
late young Count Romani well — perhaps better than any man
in Naples. I shall be delighted to afford you any information
you may seek concerning him."

Oh, the old mellow music of his voice — how it struck or
my heart and pierced it like the refrain of a familiar song
loved in the days of our youth. For an instant I could not
speak — wrath and sorrow choked my utterance. Fortunately
this feeling was but momentary — slowly I raised my hat in
response to his salutation, and answered stiffly :

" I am your servant, signer. You will oblige me indeed if
you can place me in communication with the relatives of this
unfortunate young nobleman. The elder Count Romani was
dearer to me than a brother — men have such attachments
occasionally. Permit me to introduce myself," and I handed
him my visiting-card with a slight and formal bow. He ac-
cepted it, and as he read the name it bore he gave me a
quick glance of respect mingled with pleased surprise.

"The Conte Cesare Oliva ! " he exclaimed. "I esteem
myself most fortunate to have met you ! Your arrival has
already been notified to us by the avant-courier of the fashion-
able intelligence, so that we are well aware," here laughing
lightly, " of the distinctive right you have to a hearty welcome
in Naples. I am only sorry that any distressing news should
have darkened the occasion of your return here after so long
an absence. Permit me to express the hope that it may at
least be the only cloud for you on our southern sunshine ! "

And he extended his hand with that ready frankness and
bonhomie which are always a part of the Italian temperament,
and were especially so of his. A cold shudder ran through
my veins. God ! could I take his hand in mine ? I must —
if I would act my part thoroughly — for should I refuse he
would think it strange — even rude — I should lose the game
by one false move. With a forced smile I hesitatingly held
out my hand also— it was gloved, yet as he clasped it heartily
in his own the warm pressure burned through the glove like
fire. I could have cried out in agony, so excruciating was
the mental torture which I endured at that moment. But it
oassed, the ordeal was over, and I knew that from hence-
forth 1 should be able to shake hands with him as often and

VENDETTA! 95

as indifferently as with any other man. It was only ihisjirst
time that it galled me to the quick. Ferrari noticed nothing
of my emotion — he was in excellent spirits, and turning to
the waiter, who had lingered to watch us make each other's
acquaintance, he exclaimed :

" More coffee, gar$o?i, and a couple of glorias" Then
looking toward me, " You do not object to a gloria, conte ?
No ? That is well. And here is my card," taking one from
his pocket and laying it on the table. " Guido Ferrari, at
your service, an artist and a very poor one. We shall cele-
brate our meeting by drinking each other's health ! "

I bowed. The waiter vanished to execute his orders and
Ferrari drew his chair closer to mine.

" I see you smoke," he said, gayly. ** Can I offer you one
of my cigars ? They are unusually choice. Permit me,"
and he proffered me a richly embossed and emblazoned silver
cigar-case, with the Romani arms and coronet and my own
initials engraved thereon. It was mine, of course — I took it
with a sensation of grim amusement — I had not seen it since
the day I died !

" A fine antique," I remarked, carelessly, turning it over
and over in my hand, " curious and valuable. A gift or an
heirloom?"

" It belonged to my late friend, Count Fabio," he answered,
puffing a light cloud of smoke in the air as he drew his cigar
from his lips to speak. " It was found in his pocket by the
priest who saw him die. That and other trifles which he
wore on his person were delivered to his wife, and — "

" She naturally gave you the cigar-case as a memento of
your friend," I said, interrupting him.

" Just so. You have guessed it exactly. Thanks," and
he took the case from me as I returned it to him with a frank
smile.

" Is the Countess Romani young ? " I forced myself to in-
quire.

" Young and beautiful as a midsummer morning ! " replied
Ferrari, with enthusiasm. " I doubt if sunlight ever fell on
a more enchanting woman ! If you were a young man, conte,
I should be silent regarding her charms — but your white hairs
inspire one with confidence. I assure you solemnly, though
Fabio was my friend, and an excellent fellow in his ways, he
was never worthy of the woman he married ! "

" Indeed ! " I said, coldly, as this dagger-thrust struck homo
to my heart. " I only knew him when he was quite a boy.

96 VEND ETTA I

He seemed to me then of a warm and loving temperament,
generous to a fault, perhaps over-credulous ; yet he promised
well. His father thought so ; I confess I thought so too.
Reports have reached me from time to time of the care with
which he managed the immense fortune left to him. He
gave large sums away in charity, did he not ? and was he not
a lover of books and simple pleasures ? "

" Oh, I grant you all that ! " returned Ferrari, with some
impatience. " He was the most moral man in immoral
Naples, if you care for that sort of thing. Studious — phil-
osophic—parfait gentilhomme — proud as the devil, virtuous,
unsuspecting, and — withal — a fool ! "

My temper rose dangerously — but I controlled it, and re-
membering my part in the drama I had constructed, I broke
into violent, harsh laughter.

" Bravo ! " I exclaimed. " One can easily see what a first-
rate young f ellow you are ! You have no liking for moral
xnen — ha, ha ! excellent ! I agree with you. A virtuous
man and a fool are synonyms nowadays. Yes — I have lived
long enough to know that ! And here is our coffee — behold
also the glorias ! I drink your health with pleasure, Signor
Ferrari — you and I must be friends ! "

For one moment he seemed startled by my sudden outburst
of mirth — the next, he laughed heartily himself, and as the
waiter appeared with the coffee and cognac, inspired by the
occasion, he made an equivocal, slightly indelicate joke con-
cerning the personal charms of a certain Antoinetta whom
ihe garfon was supposed to favor with an eye to matrimony.
The fellow grinned, in nowise offended — and pocketing fresh
gratuities from both Ferrari and myself, departed on new
errands for other customers, apparently in high good humor
with himself, Antoinetta, and the world in general. Resum-
ing the interrupted conversation I said :

" And this poor weak-minded Romani — was his death
sudden ? "

" Remarkably so," answered Ferrari, leaning back in his
chair, and turning his handsome flushed face up to the sky
where the stars were beginning to twinkle out one by one,
" it appears from all accounts that he rose early and went out
for a walkton one of those insufferably hot August mornings,
and at the furthest limit of the villa grounds he came upon a
fruit-seller dying of cholera. Of course, with his quixotic
ideas, he must needs stay and talk to the boy, and then run
like a madman through the heat into Naples, to find a doctor

VENDETTA! 97

for him. Instead of a physician he met a priest, and he was
taking this priest to the assistance of the fruit-seller (who by
the bye died in the meantime and was past all caring for) when
he himself was struck down by the plague. He was carried
then and there to a common inn, where in about five hours
he died — all the time shrieking curses on anyone who should
dare to take him ali/e or dead inside his own house. He
showed good sense in that at least — naturally he was anx-
ious not to bring the contagion to his wife and child."

" Is the child a boy or a girl ? " I asked, carelessly.

" A girl. A mere baby — an uninteresting old-fashioned
little thing, very like her father."

My poor little Stella.

Every pulse of my being thrilled with indignation at the
indifferently chill way in which he, the man who had fondled
her and pretended to love her, now spoke of the child. She
was, as far as he knew, fatherless ; he, no doubt, had good
reason to suspect that her mother cared little for her, and, I
saw plainly that she was, or soon would be, a slighted and
friendless thing in the household. But I made no remark —
I sipped my cognac with an abstracted air for a few seconds
— then I asked :

" How was the count buried ? Your narrative interests me
greatly."

" Oh, the priest who was with him saw to his burial, and I
believe, was able to administer the last sacraments. At any
rate, he had him laid with all proper respect in his family
vault — I myself was present at the funeral."

I started involuntarily, but quickly repressed myself.

" You were present — you — you — " and my voice almost
failed me.

Ferrari raised his eyebrows with a look of surprised inquiry.

" Of course ! You are astonished at that? But perhaps
you do not understand. I was the count's very closest friend,
closer than a brother, I may say. It was natural, even
necessary, that I should attend his body to its last resting-
place."

By this time I had recovered myself.

"I see — I see ! " I muttered, hastily. "Pray excuse me —
my age renders me nervous of disease in any form, and I
should have thought the fear of contagion might have weighed
with you."

" With me /" and he laughed lightly. " I was never ill in
my life, and I have no dread whatever of cholera. I vSuppose

7

9$ VENDETTA!

I ran some risk, though I never thought about it at the time
— but the priest — one of the Benedictine order — died the very
next day."

" Shocking ! " I murmured over my coffee-cup. " Very
shocking. And you actually entertained no alarm for your-
self?"

" None in the least. To tell you the truth, I am armed
against contagious illnesses, by a conviction I have that I am
not doomed to die of any disease. A prophecy " — and here
a cloud crossed his features — " an odd prophecy was made
about me when I was born, which, whether it comes true or
not, prevents me from panic in days of plague."

" Indeed ! " I said, with interest, for this was news to me.
" And may one ask what this prophecy is ? "

" Oh, certainly. It is to the effect that I shall die a violent
.death by the hand of a once familiar friend. It was always
an absurd statement — an old nurse's tale — but it is now more
absurd than ever, considering that the only friend of the kind
I ever had or am likely to have is dead and buried — namely,
Fabio Romani."

And he sighed slightly. I raised my head and looked at
him steadily.

CHAPTER XII.

THE sheltering darkness of the spectacles I wore prevented
him from noticing the searching scrutiny of my fixed gaze.
His face was shadowed by a faint tinge of melancholy ; his
eyes were thoughtful and almost sad.

" You loved him well then in spite of his foolishness ? " I
said.

He roused himself from the pensive mood into which he
had fallen, and smiled.

" Loved him ? No ! Certainly not — nothing so strong as
that ! I liked him fairly — he bought several pictures of me
— a poor artist has always some sort of regard for the man
who buys his work. Yes, I liked him well enough — till he
married."

" Ha ! I suppose his wife came between you ? He flushed
slightly, and drank off the remainder of his cognac in haste.

" Yes," he replied, briefly, " she came between us. A man
is never quite the same after marriage. But we have been
sitting a long time here — shall we walk ? "

VEND ETTA I gg

He was evidently anxious to change the subject. I rose
slowly as though my joints were stiff with age, and drew out
my watch, a finely jeweled one, to see the time. It was past
nine o'clock.

" Perhaps," I said, addressing him, " you will accompany
me as far as my hotel. I am compelled to retire early as a
rule — I suffer much from a chronic complaint of the eyes as
you perceive," here touching my spectacles, " and I cannot
endure much artificial light. We can talk further on our way.
Will you give me a chance of seeing your pictures ? I shall
esteem myself happy to be one of your patrons."

" A thousand thanks ! " he answered, gayly. " I will show
you my poor attempts with pleasure. Should you find any-
thing among them to gratify your taste, I shall of course be
honored. But, thank Heaven ! I am not as greedy of pat-
ronage as I used to be — in fact I intended resigning the pro-
fession altogether in about six months or so."

" Indeed ! Are you coming into a fortune ? " I asked, care-
lessly.

" Well — not exactly," he answered, lightly. " I am going
to marry one — that is almost the same thing, is it not ? "

" Precisely ! I congratulate you ! " I said, in a studiously
indifferent and slightly bored tone, though my heart pulsed
fiercely with the torrent of wrath pent up within it. I under-
stood his meaning well. In six months he proposed marry-
ing my wife. Six months was the shortest possible interval
that could be observed, according to social etiquette, between
the death of one husband and the wedding of another, and
even that was so short as to be barely decent. Six months
— yet in that space of time much might happen — things
undreamed of and undesired — slow tortures carefully meas-
ured out, punishment sudden and heavy ! Wrapped in
these sombre musings I walked beside him in profound
silence. The moon shone brilliantly; groups of girls danced
on the shore with their lovers, to the sound of a flute and
mandoline — far off across the bay the sound of sweet and
plaintive singing floated from some boat in the distance, to
our ears — the evening breathed of beauty, peace and love.
But I — my fingers quivered with restrained longing to be at
the throat of the graceful liar who sauntered so easily and con-
fidently beside me. Ah ! Heaven, if he only knew ! If he
could have realized the truth, would his face have worn quite
so careless a smile — would his manner have been quite so
free and dauntless ? Stealthily I glanced at him ; he was

100 VENDETTA I

humming attune softly under his breath, but feeling instinfr
tively, I suppose, that my eyes were upon him, he inter-
rupted the melody and turned to me with the question :

" You have traveled far and seen much, conte ! "

" I have."

" And in what country have you found the most beautiful
women ! "

" Pardon me, young sir," I answered, coldly, " the business
of life has separated me almost entirely from feminine society.
I have devoted myself exclusively to the amassing of wealth,
understanding thoroughly that gold is the key to all things,
even to woman's love ; if I desired that latter commodity,
which I do not. 1 fear that I scarcely know a fair face from
a plain one — I never was attracted by women, and now at my
age, with my settled habits, I am not likely to alter my opin-
ion concerning them — and I frankly confess those opinions
are the reverse of favorable.

Ferrari laughed. "You remind me of Fabio ! " he said.
" He used to talk in that strain before he was married — though
he was young and had none of the experiences which may
have made you cynical, conte ! But he altered his ideas very
rapidly — and no wonder ! "

" Is his wife so very lovely then ? " I asked.

" Very ! Delicately, daintily beautiful. But no doubt you
will see her for yourself — as a friend of her late husband's
father, you will call upon her, will you not ?"

" Why should I ? " I said, gruffly — " I have no wish to
meet her ! Besides, an inconsolable widow seldom cares to
receive visitors — I shall not intrude upon her sorrows ! "

Never was there a better move than this show of utter in-
difference I affected. The less I appeared to care about
seeing the Countess Romani, the more anxious Ferrari was
to introduce me — (introduce me ! — to my wife !) — and he
set to work preparing his own doom with assiduous ardor.

" Oh, but you must see her ! " he exclaimed, eagerly. " She
will receive you, I am sure, as a special guest. Your age and
your former acquaintance with her late husband's family will
win from her the utmost courtesy, believe me ! Besides, she

is not really inconsolable " He paused suddenly. We

had arrived at the entrance of my hotel. I looked at him
steadily.

" Not really inconsolable ? " I repeated, in a tone of inquiry.
Ferrari broke into a forced laugh.

" Why no 1 " he said. " What would you ? She is young

VENDETTA! Iox

and light-hearted — perfectly lovely and in the fullness of youth
and health. One cannot expect her to weep long, especially
for a man she did not care for."

I ascended the hotel steps. " Pray come in ! " I said, with
an inviting movement of my hand. " You must take a
glass of wine before you leave. And so — she did not care for
him, you say ? "

Encouraged by my friendly invitation and manner, Ferrari
became more at >his ease than ever, and hooking his arm
through nine as we crossed the broad passage of the hotel
together, he replied in a confidential tone :

" My dear conte, how can a woman love a man who is forced
upon her by her father for the sake of the money he gives
her ? As I told you before, my late friend was utterly in-
sensible to the beauty of his wife — he was cold as a stone,

preferred his books. Then naturally she had no love
for him ! "

By this time we had reached my apartments, and as I threw
^>pen the door, I saw that Ferrari was taking in with a critical
<?ye the costly fittings and luxurious furniture. In answer to
this last remark, I said with a chilly smile :

" And as /told you before, my dear Signor Ferarri, I know
nothing whatever about women, and care less than nothing for
their loves or hatreds ! I have always thought of them more
or less as playful kittens, who purr when they are stroked
the right way, and scream and scratch when their tails are
trodden on. Try this Montepulciano ! "

He accepted the glass I proffered him, and tasted the
wine with the air of a connoisseur.

" Exquisite ! " he murmured, sipping it lazily. " You are
lodged en prince here, contc ! I envy you ! "

" You need not," I answered. " You have -youth and
health, and — as you have hinted tome — love ; all these things
are better than wealth, so people say. At any rate, youth
and health are good things — love I have no belief in. As
for me, I am a mere luxurious animal, loving comfort and
ease beyond anything. I have had many trials — I now take
my rest in my own fashion."

:' A very excellent and sensible fashion ! " smiled Ferrari,
leaning his head easily back on the satin cushions of the,
easy-chair into which he had thrown himself.

" Do you know, conte, now I look at you well, I think you
must have been very handsome when you were young 1 Yoij
superb figure I "

102 VENDEfVAt

I bowed stiffly. " You flatter me, sign ;>r ! I believe 1
never was specially hideous — but looks in a man always rank
second to strength, and of strength I have plenty yet re-
maining."

" I do not doubt it," he returned, still regarding me at-
tentively with an expression in which there was the faintest
shadow of uneasiness.

" It is an odd coincidence, you will say, but I find a most
extraordinary resemblance in the height and carriage of your
figure to that of my late friend Romani."

I poured some wine out for myself with a steady hand,
and drank it.

" Really ? " I answered. " I am glad that I remind you of
him — if the reminder is agreeable ! But all tall men are much
alike so far as figure goes, providing they are well made."

Ferrari's brow was contracted in a musing frown and he
answered not. He still looked at me, and I returned his
look without embarrassment. Finally he roused himself,
smiled, and finished drinking his glass of Montepulciano.
Then he rose to go.

" You will permit me to mention your name to the Countess
Romani, I hope ? " he said, cordially. " I am certain she
will receive you, should you desire it."

I feigned a sort of vexation, and made an abrupt move-
ment of impatience.

" The fact is," I said, at last, " I very much dislike talking
to women. They are always illogical, and their frivolity
wearies me. But you have been so friendly that I will give
you a message for the countess — if you have no objection to
deliver it. I should be sorry to trouble you unnecessarily —
and you perhaps will not have an opportunity of seeing her
for some days ? "

He colored slightly and moved uneasily. Then with a
kind of effort, he replied :

" On the contrary, I am going to see her this very evening.
I assure you it will be a pleasure to me to convey to her any
greeting you may desire to send."

" Oh, it is no greeting," I continued, calmly, noting the
various signs of embarrassment in his manner with a careful
eye. " It is a mere message, which, however, may enable you
to understand why I was anxious to see the young man who
is dead. In my very early manhood the elder Count Romani
did me an inestimable servica. I never forgot his kindness
—my memory is extraordinarily tenacious of both benefits an*i

VENDETTA f 103

injuries — and I have always desired to repay it in some suit-
able manner. I have with me a few jewels of almost price-
less value — I have myself collected them, and I reserved
them as a present to the son of my old friend, simply as a
trifling souvenir or expression of gratitude for past favors
received from his family. His sudden death has deprived
me of the pleasure of fulfilling this intention — but as the
jewels are quite useless to me, I am perfectly willing to hand
them over to the Countess Romani, should she care to have
them. They would have been hers had her husband lived —
they should be hers now. If you, signor, will report these
facts to her and learn her wishes with respect to the matter,
I shall be much indebted to you."

" I shall be delighted to obey you," replied Ferrari, court-
eously, rising at the same time to take his leave. " I am
proud to be the bearer of so pleasing an errand. Beautiful
women love jewels, and who shall blame them? Bright eyes
and diamonds go well together ! A rivederci, Signor Conte !
I trust we shall meet often."

" I have no doubt we shall," I answered, quietly.

He shook hands cordially — I responded to his farewell salu-
tations with the brief coldness which was now my habitual man-
ner, and we parted. From the window of my saloon I could see
him sauntering easily down the hotel steps and from thence
along the street. How I cursed him as he stepped jauntily
on — how I hated his debonair grace and easy manner ! I
watched the even poise of his handsome head and -shoulders,
I noted the assured tread, the air of conscious vanity — the
whole demeanor of the man bespoke his perfect self-satisfac-
tion and his absolute confidence in the brightness of the
future that awaited him when that stipulated six months of
pretended mourning for my untimely death should have ex-
pired. Once, as he walked on his way, he turned and
paused — looking back — he raised his hat to enjoy the cool-
ness of the breeze on his forehead and hair. The light of
the moon fell full on his features and showed them in pro-
file, like a finely-cut cameo against the dense dark-blue back-
ground of the evening sky. I gazed at him with a sort of
grim fascination — the fascination of a hunter for the stag
when it stands at bay, just before he draws his knife across
its throat. He was in my power — he had deliberately thrown
himself in the trap I had set for him. He lay at the mercy
of orte in whom there was no mercy. He had said and done
nothing to deter me from my settled plans. Had he shown

104 VENDETTA I

the least tenderness of recollection for me as Fabio Romani,
his friend and benefactor — had he hallowed my memory by
one generous word — had he expressed one regret for my loss
— I might have hesitated, I might have somewhat changed
my course of action so that punishment should have fallen
more lightly on him than on her. For I knew well enough
that she, my wife, was the worst sinner of the two. Had she
chosen to respect herself, not all the forbidden love in the
world could have touched her honor. Therefore, the least
sign of compunction or affection from Ferrari for me, his
supposed dead friend, would have turned the scale in his
favor, and in spite of his treachery, remembering how she
must have encouraged him, I would at least have spared him
torture. But no sign had been given, no word had been
spoken, there was no need for hesitation or pity, and I was
glad of it ! All this I thought as I watched him standing
bareheaded in the moonlight, on his way to — whom ? To
my wife, of course. I knew that well enough. He was go-
ing to console her widow's tears — to soothe her aching heart
— a good Samaritan in very earnest ! He moved, he passed
slowly out of my sight. I waited till I had seen the last
glimpse of his retreating figure, and then I left the window
satisfied with my day's work. Vengeance had begun.

CHAPTER XIII.

QUITE early in the next day Ferrari called to see me. I
was at breakfast — he apologized for disturbing me at the
meal.

" But," he explained, frankly, " the Countess Romani laid
such urgent commands upon me that I was compelled to
obey. We men are the slaves of women ! "

" Not always," I said, dryly, as I motioned him to take a
seat — " there are exceptions — myself for instance. Will you
have some coffee ? "

" Thanks, I have already breakfasted. Pray do not let
me be in your way, my errand is soon done. The countess
wishes me to say • . .."

" You, saw her last night ?" I interrupted him.

He flushed slightly. " Yes— that is— for a few minutes
only. I gave her your message. She thanks you, and de-
sires me to tell you that; she cannot think of receiving tht

VENDETTA! 105

jewels unless you will first honor her by a visit. She is not
at home to ordinary callers in consequence of her recent be-
reavement— but to you, so old a friend of her husband's
family, a hearty welcome will be accorded."

I bowed stiffly. " I am extremely flattered ! " I said, in a
somewhat sarcastical tone, " it is seldom I receive so tempt-
ing an invitation ! 1 regret that I cannot accept it — at least,
not at present. Make my compliments to the lady, and tell
her so in whatever sugared form of words you may think best
fitted to please her ears."

He looked surprised and puzzled.

" Do you really mean," he said, with a tinge of hauteur in
his accents, " that you will not visit her — that you refuse her
request ? "

I smiled. " I really mean, my dear Signer Ferrari, that,
being always accustomed to have my own way, I can make
no exception in favor of ladies, however fascinating they may
be. I have business in Naples — it claims my first and best
attention. When it is transacted I may possibly try a few
frivolities for a change — at present I am unfit for the society
of the fair sex — an old battered traveler as you see, brusque,
and unaccustomed to polite lying. But I promise you I will
practice suave manners and a court bow for the countess
when I can spare time to call upon her. In the meanwhile I
trust to you to make her a suitable and graceful apology for
my non-appearance."

Ferrari's puzzled and vexed expression gave way to a smile
— finally he laughed aloud. "Upon my word!" he ex-
claimed, gayly, "you are really a remarkable man, conte !
You are extremely cynical ! I am almost inclined to believe
that you positively hate women."

"Oh, by no means ! Nothing so strong as hatred," I said,
coolly, as I peeled and divided a fine peach as a finish to my
morning's meal. " Hatred is a strong passion — to hate well
one must first have loved. No, no — I do not find women
worth hating — I am simply indifferent to them. They seem
to me merely one of the burdens imposed on man's existence
— graceful, neatly packed, light burdens in appearance, but
in truth, terribly heavy and soul-crushing."

" Yet many accept such burdens gayly ! " interrupted Fer-
rari, with a smile. I glanced at him keenly.

" Men seldom attain the mastery over their own passions,'*
I replied ; " they are in haste to seize every apparent pleasure,
that comes in their way, keel by a hot animal impulse whi

Io6 VENDETTA!

they call love, they snatch at a woman's beauty as a greedy
school-boy snatches ripe fruit — and when possessed, what is
it worth ? Here is its emblem " — and I held up the stone of
the peach I had just eaten — " the fruit is devoured — what
remains ? A stone with a bitter kernel."

Ferrari shrugged his shoulders.

" I cannot agree with you, count," he said ; " but I will
not argue with you. From your point of view you may be
right — but when one is young, and life stretches before you
like a fair pleasure-ground, love and the smile of woman are
like sunlight falling on flowers ! You too must have felt this
— in spite of what you say, there must have been a time in
your life when you also loved ! "

" Oh, I have had my fancies, of course ! " I answered, with
an indifferent laugh. " The woman I fancied turned out to
be a saint — I was not worthy of her — at least, so I was told.
At any rate, I was so convinced of her virtue and my own
unworthiness — that — I left her."

He looked surprised. " An odd reason, surely, for resign-
ing her, was it not ? "

" Very odd — very unusual — but a sufficient one for me.
Pray let us talk of something more interesting — your pictures,
for instance. When may I see them ? "

" When you please," he answered, readily — " though I fear
they are scarcely worth a visit. I have not worked much
lately. I really doubt whether I have any that will merit
your notice."

" You underrate your powers, signor," I said with formal
politeness. " Allow me to call at your studio this afternoon.
I have a few minutes to spare between three and four o'clock
if that time will suit you."

" It will suit me admirably," he said, with a look of grati-
fication ; " but I fear you will be disappointed. I assure you
I am no artist."

I smiled. I knew that well enough. But I made no
reply to his remark — I said, " Regarding the matter of the
jewels for the Countess Romani — would you care to see
them ? "

" I should indeed," he answered ; " they are unique speci-
mens, I think?"

" I believe so," I answered, and going to an escritoire in
the corner of the room, I unlocked it and took out a massive
carved oaken jewel-chest of square shape, which I had had
made in Palermo. It contained a necklace of large rubies

VENDETTA! 107

and diamonds, with bracelets to match, and pins for the hair
— also a sapphire ring — a cross of fine rose-brilliants, and the
pearl pendant I had first found in the vault. All the gems,
with the exception of this pendant, had been reset by a skill-
ful jeweler in Palermo, who had acted under my superintend-
ence— and Ferrari uttered an exclamation of astonishment
and admiration as he lifted the glittering toys out one by one
and noted the size and brilliancy of the precious stones.

" They are trifles," I said, carelessly — " but they may please
a woman's taste — and they amount to a certain fixed value.
You would do me a great service if you consented to take
them to the Contessa Romani for me — tell her to accept them
as heralds of my forthcoming visit. 1 am sure you will know
how to persuade her to take what would unquestionably
have been hers had her husband lived. They are really her
property — she must not refuse to receive what is her own."

Ferrari hesitated and looked at me earnestly.

" You will visit her — she may rely on your coming for a
certainty, I hope ? "

I smiled. " You seem very anxious about it. May I ask
why ? "

" 1 think," he replied at once, " that it would embarrass
the countess very much if you gave her no opportunity to
thank you for so munificent and splendid a gift — and unless
she knew she could do so, I am certain she would not accept
it."

" Make yourself quite easy," I answered. " She shall
thank me to her heart's content. I give you my word that
within a few days I will call upon the lady — in fact you said
you would introduce me — I accept your offer ! "

He seemed delighted, and seizing my hand, shook it cor-
dially.

" Then in that case I will gladly take the jewels to her,"
he exclaimed. " And I may say, count, that had you
searched the whole world over, you could not have found
one whose beauty was more fitted to show them off to ad-
vantage. I assure you her loveliness is of a most exquisite
character ! "

" No doubt ! " I said, dryly. " I take your word for it. I
am no judge of a fair face or form. And now, my good
friend, do not think me churlish if I request you to leave me
in solitude for the present. Between three and four o'clock
I shall be at your studio."

He rose at once to take his leave, I placed the oaken bo«

Io8 VENDETTA!

of jewels in the leathern case which had been made to con-
tain it, strapped and locked it, and handed it to him together
with its key. He was profuse in his compliments and
thanks — almost obsequious, in truth — and I discovered an-
other defect in his character — a defect which, as his friend
in former days, I had guessed nothing of. I saw that very
little encouragement would make him a toady — a fawning
servitor on the wealthy — and in our old time of friendship I
had believed him to be far above all such meanness, but
rather of a manly, independent nature that scorned hypoc-
risy. Thus we are deluded even by our nearest and dear-
est— and is it well or ill for us, I wonder, when we are at
last undeceived ? Is not the destruction of illusion worse
than illusion itself? I thought so, as my quondam friend
clasped my hand in farewell that morning. What would I
not have given to believe in him as I once did ! I held open
the door of my room as he passed out, carrying the box of
jewels for my wife, and as I bade him a brief adieu, the well-
worn story of Tristram and Kind Mark came to my mind.
He, Guido, like Tristram, would in a short space clasp the
gemmed necklace round the throat of one as fair and false
as the fabled Iseulte, and I — should I figure as the wronged
king ? How does the English laureate put it in his idyl on
the subject ?

•' ' Mark 's -way,"1 said Mark, and clove him through the brain"

Too sudden and sweet a death by far for such a traitor !
The Cornish king should have known how to torture his be-
trayer, /knew — and I meditated deeply on every point of my
design, as I sat alone for an hour after Ferrari had left me.
I had many things to do — I had resolved on making myself
a personage of importance in Naples, and I wrote several
letters and sent out visiting-cards to certain well-established
families of distinction as necessary preliminaries to the re*
suit I had in view. That day, too, I engaged a valet — a
silent and discreet Tuscan named Vincenzo Flamma. He
was an admirably trained servant — he never asked questions
— was too dignified to gossip, and rendered me instant and
implicit obedience — in fact he was a gentleman in his way,
with far better manners than many who lay claim to that
title. He entered upon his duties at once, and never did I
know him to neglect the most trifling thing that could add
to my satisfaction or comfort. In making arrangements
fcw»f «*4 in attending (0 various liuK; routers of

VENDETTA t 109

ftess, the hours slipped rapidly away, and in the afternoon,
at the time appointed, I made my way to Ferrari's studio.
I knew it of old — I had no need to consult the card he had
left with me on which the address was written. It was a
queer, quaintly built little place, situated at the top of an
ascending road — its windows commanded an extensive view
of the bay and the surrounding scenery. Many and many a
happy hour had I passed there before my marriage reading
some favorite book or watching Ferrari as he painted his
crude landscapes and figures, most of which I good-naturedly
purchased as soon as completed. The little porch over-grown
with star jasmine looked strangely and sorrowfully familiar to
my eyes, and my heart experienced a sickening pang of
regret for the past, as I pulled the bell and heard the little
tinkling sound to which I was so well accustomed. Fer-
rari himself opened the door to me with eager rapidity — he
looked excited and radiant.

" Come in, come in ! " he cried with effusive cordiality.
" You will find everything in confusion, but pray excuse it.
It is some time since I had any visitors. Mind the steps,
conte ! — the place is rather dark just here — every one
stumbles at this particular corner."

So talking, and laughing as he talked, he escorted me up
the short narrow flight of stairs to the light airy room where
he usually worked. Glancing round it, I saw at once the evi-
dences of neglect and disorder — he had certainly not been
there for many days, though he had made an attempt to
arrange it tastefully for my reception. On the table stood a
large vase of flowers grouped with artistic elegance — I felt
instinctively that my wife had put them there. I noticed
that Ferrari had begun nothing new — all the finished and un-
finished studies I saw I recognized directly. I seated my-
self in an easy-chair and looked at my betrayer with a
calmly critical eye. He was what the English would call
"got up for effect." Though in black, he had donned a
velvet coat instead of the cloth one he had worn in the
morning — he had a single white japonica in his buttonhole
—his face was pale and his eyes unusually brilliant. He
looked his best — I admitted it, and could readily understand
how an idle, pleasure-seeking feminine animal might be
easily attracted by the purely physical beauty of his form and
features. I spoke a part of my thoughts aloud.

" You are not only an artist by profession, Signer Ferrari
—you are one also in appearance."

no VENDETTA!

He flushed slightly and smiled.

" You are very amiable to say so," he replied, his pleased
vanity displaying itself at once in the expression of his face.
•' But I am well aware that you flatter me. By the way, be-
fore I forget it, I must tell you that I fulfilled your commis-
sion."

44 To the Countess Roman i ? "

44 Exactly. I cannot describe to you her astonishment
and delight at the splendor and brilliancy of those jewels
you sent her. It was really pretty to watch her innocent
satisfaction."

I laughed.

" Marguerite and the jewel song in ' Faust,' I suppose,
with new scenery and effects ? " I asked, with a slight sneer.
He bit his lip and looked annoyed. But he answered,
quietly :

" I see you must have your joke, conte ; but remember
that if you place the countess in the position of Marguerite,
you, as the giver of the jewels, naturally play the part of
Mephistopheles."

44 And you will be Faust, of course ! " I said, gayly.
44 Why, we might mount the opera with a few supernumeraries
and astonish Naples by our performance ! What say you ?
But let us come to business. I like the picture you have on
the easel there — may I see it more closely ? "

He drew it nearer ; it was a showy landscape with the
light of the sunset upon it. It was badly done, but I praised
it warmly, and purchased it for five hundred francs. Four
other sketches of a similar nature were then produced. I
bought these also. By the time we got through these
matters, Ferrari was in the best of humors. He offered me
some excellent wine and partook of it himself ; he talked
incessantly, and diverted me extremely, though my inward
amusement was not caused by the witty brilliancy of his
conversation. No, I was only excited to a sense of savage
humor by the novelty of the position in which we two men
stood. Therefore I listened to him attentively, applauded
his anecdotes — all of which I had heard before — admired
his jokes, and fooled his egotistical soul till he had no shred
of self-respect remaining. He laid his nature bare before me
— and I knew what it was at last — a mixture of selfishness,
avarice, sensuality, and heartlessness, tempered now and
then by a flash of good-nature and sympathetic attraction
which were the mere outcomes of youth and physical health

VENDETTA! Ill

— no more. This was the man I had loved — this fellow who
told coarse stones only worthy of a common pot-house, and
who reveled in a wit of a high and questionable flavor ; this
conceited, empty-headed, muscular piece of humanity was the
same being for whom I had cherished so chivalrous and
loyal a tenderness ! Our conversation was broken in upon
at last by the sound of approaching wheels. A carriage was
heard ascending the road — it came nearer — it stopped at the
door. I set down the glass of wine I had just raised to my
lips, and looked at Ferrari steadily.

"You expect other visitors ? " I inquired.

He seemed embarrassed, smiled, and hesitated.

« Well — I am not sure— but " The bell rang. With a

word of apology Ferrari hurried away to answer it. I sprung
from my chair — I knew — I felt who w£s coming. I steadied
my nerves by a strong effort. I controlled the rapid beating
of my heart ; and fixing my dark glasses more closely over
my eyes, I drew myself up erect and waited calmly. I heard
Ferrari ascending the stairs — a light step accompanied his
heavier footfall — he spoke to his companion in whispers.
Another instant — and he flung the door of the studio wide
open with the haste and reverence due for the entrance of a
queen. There was a soft rustle of silk — a delicate breath of
perfume on the air — and then — I stood face to face with —
my wife I

CHAPTER XIV.

How dazzlingly lovely she was ! I gazed at her with the
same bewildered fascination that had stupefied my reason
and judgment when I beheld her for the first time. The
black robes she wore, the long crape veil thrown back from
her clustering hair and mignonneiz.ee, all the somber shadows
of her mourning garb only served to heighten and display
her beauty to greater advantage. A fair widow truly ! I,
her lately deceased husband, freely admitted the magnetic
power of her charms ! She paused for an instant on the
threshold, a winning smile on her lips ; she looked at me,
hesitated, and finally spoke in courteous accents :

" I think I cannot be mistaken ! Do I address the noble
Conte Cesare Oliva ? "

I tried to speak, but could not. My mouth was dry and
parched with excitement, my throat swelled and ached with

lit VENDETTA 1

the pent-up wrath and despair of my emotions. I answered
her question silently by a formal bow. She at once advanced,
extending both her' hands with the coaxing grace of manner
I had so often admired.

" I am the Counters Romani," she said, still smiling. " I
heard from Signor Ferrari that you purposed visiting his
studio this afternoon, and I could not resist the temptation
of coming to express my personal acknowledgments for the
almost regal gift you sent me. The jewels are really mag-
nificent. Permit me to offer you my sincere thanks ! "

I caught her outstretched hands and wrung them hard —
so hard that the rings she wore must have dug into her flesh
and hurt her, though she was too well-bred to utter any ex-
clamation. I had fully recovered myself, and was prepared
to act out my part.

" On the contrary, madame," I said in a strong harsh
voice, " the thanks must come entirely from me for the
honor you have conferred upon me by accepting trifles so
insignificant — especially at, a time when the cold brilliancy of
mere diamonds must jar upon the sensitive feelings of your
recent widowhood. Believe me, I sympathize deeply with
your bereavement. Had your husband lived, the jewels would
have been his gift to you, and how much more acceptable
they would then have appeared in your eyes 1 I am proud
to think you have condescended so far as to receive them
from so unworthy a hand as mine."

As I spoke her face paled — she seemed startled, and re-
garded me earnestly. Sheltered behind my smoked spec-
tacles, I met the gaze of her large dark eyes without embar-
rassment. Slowly she withdrew her slight fingers from my
clasp. I placed an easy-chair for her ; she sunk softly into
it with her old air ol indolent ease, the ease of a spoiled em-
press or sultan's favorite, while she still continued to look
up at me thoughtfully. Ferrari, meanwhile, busied himself
in bringing out more wine ; he also produced a dish of fruit
and some sweet cakes, and while occupied in these duties as
our host he began to laugh.

" Ha, ha ! you are caught ! " he exclaimed to me gayly.
" You must know we planned this together, madame and I,
just to take you by surprise. There was no knowing when
you would be persuaded to visit the contessa, and she could
not rest till she had thanked you, so we arranged this meet-
ing. Could anything be better ? Come, conte, confess that
you are charmed 1 "

VENDETTA! XI£

" Of course I am ! " I answered with a slight touch of
satire in my tone. " Who would not be charmed in the pres-
ence of such youth and beauty ! And I am also flattered
— for I know what exceptional favor the Contessa Romani
extends toward me in allowing me to make her acquaintance
at a time which must naturally be for her a secluded season
of sorrow."

At these words my wife's face suddenly assumed an ex-
pression of wistful sadness and appealing gentleness.

" Ah, poor unfortunate Fabio," she sighed. " How terri-
ble it seems that he is not here to greet you ! How gladly he
would have welcomed any friend of his father's — he adored
his father, poor fellow ! I cannot realize that he is dead.
It was too sudden, too dreadful ! I do not think I shall ever
recover the shock of his loss ! "

And her eyes actually filled with tears j though the fact
did not surprise me in the least, for many women can weep
at will. Very little practice is necessary — and we men are
such fools, we never know how it is done ; we take all the
pretty feigned piteousness for real grief, and torture our-
selves to find methods of consolation for the feminine sorrows
which have no root save in vanity and selfishness. I glanced
quickly from my wife to Ferrari : he coughed, and appeared
embarrassed — he was not so good an actor as she was an
actress. Studying them both, I know not which feeling
gained the mastery in my mind — contempt or disgust.

" Console yourself, madame," I said, coldly. " Time
should be quick to heal the wounds of one so young and
beautiful as you are ! Personally speaking, I much regret
your husband's death, but I would entreat you not to give
way to grief, which, however sincere, must unhappily be use-
less. Your life lies before you — and may happy days and
as fair a future await you as you deserve ! "

She smiled, her tear-drops vanished like morning dew dis-
appearing in the heat.

" I thank you for your good wisfies, conte," she said ; " but
** rests with you to commence my happy days by honoring
me with a visit. You will come, will you not ? My house
^•id all that it contains are at your service ! "

1 hesitated. Ferrari looked amused.

" Madame is not aware of your dislike to the society of
ladies, conte," he said, and there was a touch of mockery
in his tone. I glanced at him coldly, and addressed my
answer to my wife.

114 VENDETTA t

" Signer Ferrari is perfectly right," I said, bending over
her, and speaking in a low tone ; " I am often ungallant
enough to avoid the society of mere women, but, alas ! I
have no armor of defense against the smile of an angel."

And I bowed with a deep and courtly reverence. Her
face brightened — she adored her own loveliness, and the
desire of conquest awoke in her immediately. She took a
glass of wine from my hand with a languid grace, and fixed
her glorious eyes full on me with a smile.

" That is a very pretty speech," she said, sweetly, " and it
means, of course, that you will come to-morrow. Angels
exact obedience ! Gui — , I mean Signer Ferrari, you will
accompany the conte and show him the way to the villa? "

Ferrari bent his head with some stiffness. He looked
slightly sullen.

" I am glad to see," he observed, with some petulance,
" that your persuasions have carried more conviction to the
Conte Oliva than mine. To me he was apparently inflexible."

She laughed gayly. " Of course ! It is only a woman who
can always win her own way — am I not right, conte ? " And
she glanced up at me with an arch expression of mingled
mirth and malice. What a love of mischief she had ! She
saw that Guido was piqued, and she took intense delight in
teasing him still further.

" I cannot tell, madame," I answered her. " I know so
little of your charming sex that I need to be instructed. But
I instinctively feel that you must be right, whatever you say.
Your eyes would convert an infidel ! "

Again she looked at me with one of those wonderfully
brilliant, seductive, arrowy glances — then she rose to take
her leave.

" An angel's visit truly," I said, lightly, " sweet, but brief ! "

" We shall meet to-morrow," she replied, smiling. " I
consider I have your promise ; you must not fail me ! Come
as early as you like in the afternoon, then you will see my
little girl Stella. She is very like poor Fabio. Till to-mor-
row, adieu ! "

She extended her hand. I raised it to my lips. She
smiled as she withdrew it, and looking at me, or rather at
the glasses I wore, she inquired :

" You suffer with your eyes ?."

" Ah, madame, a terrible infirmity ! I cannot endure the
light. But I should not complain — it is a weakness common
to age/'

VENDETTA I 115

"You do not seem to be old," she said, thoughtfully.
With a woman's quick eye she had noted, I suppose, the un-
wrinkled smoothness of my skin, which no disguise could
alter. But I exclaimed with affected surprise :

" Not old ! With these white hairs ! "

" Many young men have them," she said. " At any rate,
they often accompany middle age, or what is called the prime
of life. And really, in your case, they are very becoming ! "

And with a courteous gesture of farewell she moved to
leave the room. Both Ferrari and myself hastened to escort
her downstairs to her carriage, which stood in waiting at the
door — the very carriage and pair of chestnut ponies which
I myself had given her as a birthday present. Ferrari
offered to assist her in mounting the step of the vehicle ; she
put his arm aside with a light jesting word and accepted
mine instead. I helped her in, and arranged her embroidered
wraps about her feet, and she nodded gayly to us both as we
stood bareheaded in the afternoon sunlight watching her
departure. The horses started at a brisk canter, and in a
couple of minutes the dainty equipage was out of sight.
When nothing more of it could be seen than the cloud of
dust stirred up by its rolling wheels, I turned to look at my
companion. His face was stern, and his brows were drawn
together in a frown. Stung already ! I thought. Already
the little asp of jealousy commenced its bitter work ! The
trifling favor his light-o'-love and my wife had extended to
me in choosing my arm instead of his as a momentary sup-
port had evidently been sufficient to pique his pride. God !
what blind bats men are ! With all their high capabilities
and immortal destinies, with all the world before them to
conquer, they can sink unnerved and beaten down to impo-
tent weakness before the slighting word or insolent gesture
of a frivolous feminine creature, whose best devotions are
paid to the mirror that reflects her in the most becoming
light ! How easy would be my vengeance, I mused, as I
watched Ferrari. I touched him on the shoulder ; he started
from his uncomfortable reverie and forced a smile. I held
out a cigar-case.

" What are you dreaming of ? " I asked him, laughingly.
" Hebe as she waited on the gods, or Venus as she rose in
bare beauty from the waves ? Either, neither, or both ? I
assure you a comfortable smoke is as pleasant in its way as
the smile of a woman."

H« took a cigar and lighted it, but made no answer.

Ii6 VENDETTA!

"You are dull, my friend," I continued, gayly, hooking my
arm through his and pacing him up and down on the turf in
front of his studio. ** Wit, they say, should be sharpened by
the glance of a bright eye ; how comes it that the edge of
your converse seems blunted ? Perhaps your feelings are
too deep for words ? If so, I do not wonder at it, for the
lady is extremely lovely."

He glanced quickly at me.

" Did I not say so ? " he exclaimed. " Of all creatures un-
der heaven she is surely the most perfect ! Even you, conte,
with your cynical ideas about women, even you were quite
subdued and influenced by her ; I could see it ! "

I puffed slowly at my cigar and pretended to meditate.

" Was I ? " I said at last, with an air of well-acted sur-
prise. " Really subdued and influenced ? I do not think so.
But I admit I have never seen a woman so entirely beautiful."

He stopped in his walk, loosened his arm from mine, and
regarded me fixedly.

" I told you so," he said, deliberately. " You must remem-
ber that I told you so. And now perhaps I ought to warn
you."

"Warn me ! " 1 exclaimed, in feigned alarm. " Of what ?
against whom ? Surely not the Contessa Romani, to whom
you were so anxious to introduce me ? She has no illness, no
infectious disorder ? She is not dangerous to life or limb, is
she?"

Ferrari laughed at the anxiety I displayed for my own
bodily safety — an anxiety which I managed .to render almost
comic — but he looked somewhat relieved too.

" Oh, no," he said, " I meant nothing of that kind. I only
think it fair to tell you that she has very seductive manners,
and she may pay you little attentions which would flatter any
man who was not aware that they are only a part of her child-
like, pretty ways ; in short, they might lead him erroneously
to suppose himself the object of her particular preference,
and "

I broke into a violent fit of laughter, and clapped him
roughly on the shoulder.

"Your warning is quite unnecessary, my good young
friend," I said. " Come now, do I look a likely man to at-
tract the attention of an adored and capricious beauty ? Be-
sides, at my age the idea is monstrous 1 I could figure as her
father, as yours, if you like, but in the capacity of a lover-
impossible i "

VENDETTA! I If

He eyed me attentively.

" She said you did not seem old," he murmured, half to
himself and half to me.

" Oh, I grant you she made me that little compliment, cer-
tainly," I answered, amused at the suspicions that evidently
tortured his mind ; " and I accepted it as it was meant — in
kindness. I am well aware what a battered and unsightly
wreck of a man I must appear in her eyes when contrasted
with you, Sir Antinous ! "

He flushed warmly. Then, with a half-apologetic air, he
said :

" Well, you must forgive me if I have seemed overscrupu-
lous. The contessa is like a — a sister to me ; in fact, my
late friend Fabio encouraged a fraternal affection between
us, and now he is gone I feel it more than ever my duty to

Srotect her, as it were, from herself. She is so young and
ght-hearted and thoughtless that — but you understand me,
do you not ? "

I bowed. I understood him perfectly. He wanted no more
poachers on the land he himself had pilfered. Quite right,
from his point of view ! But I was the rightful owner of the
land after all, and I naturally had a different opinion of the
matter. However, I made no remark, and feigned to be
rather bored by the turn the conversation was taking. Seeing
this, Ferrari exerted himself to be agreeable ; he became a gay
and entertaining companion once more, and after he had fixed
the hour for our visit to the Villa Romani the next afternoon,
our talk turned upon various matters connected with Naples
and its inhabitants and their mode of life. I hazarded a few
remarks on the general immorality and loose principles that
prevailed among the people, just to draw my companion out
and sound his character more thoroughly — though I thought
I knew his opinions well.

" Pooh, my dear conte," he exclaimed, with a light laugh,
as he threw away the end of his cigar, and watched it as it
burned dully like a little red lamp among the green grass
where it had fallen, " what is immorality after all ? Merely a
matter of opinion. Take the hackneyed virtue of conjugal
fidelity. When followed out to the better end what is the good
of it — where does it lead ? Why should a man be tied to one
woman when he has love enough for twenty ? The pretty
slender girl whom he chose as a partner in his impulsive
youth may become a fat, coarse, red-faced female horror by
the time he has attained to the full vigor of manhood : and

lig VENDETTA!

yet, as long as she lives, the law insists that the full tide of
passion shall flow always in one direction — always to the same
dull, level, unprofitable shore ! The law is absurd, but it ex-
ists ; and the natural consequence is that we break it. Society
pretends to be horrified when we do — yes, I know ; but it is
all pretense. And the thing is no worse in Naples than it is
in London, the capital of the moral British race, only here we
are perfectly frank, and make no effort to hide our little sins,
while there, they cover them up carefully and make believe
to be virtuous. It is the veriest humbug — the parable of
Pharisee and Publican over again.

" Not quite," I observed ; " for the Publican was repentant,
and Naples is not."

'• Why should she be ? " demanded Ferrari, gayly ; " what,
in the name of Heaven, is the good of being penitent about
anything ? Will it mend matters ? Who is to be pacified or
pleased by our contrition ? God ? My dear conte, there are
very few of us nowadays who believe in a Deity. Creation is
a mere caprice of the natural elements. The best thing we
can do is to enjoy ourselves while we live ; we have a very
short time of it, and when we die there is an end of all things
so far as we are concerned."

" That is your creed ? " I asked.

" That is my creed, certainly. It was Solomon's in his
heart of hearts. ' Eat, drink and be merry, for to-morrow we
die.' It is the creed of Naples, and of nearly all Italy. Of
course the vulgar still cling to exploded theories of supersti-
tious belief, but the educated classes are far beyond the old-
world notions."

" I believe you," I answered, composedly. I had no wish
to argue with him ; I only sought to read his shallow soul
through and through that I might be convinced of his utter
worthlessness. " According to modern civilization there is
really no special need to be virtuous unless it suits us. The
only thing necessary for pleasant living is to avoid public
scandal."

" Just so ! " agreed Ferrari ; " and that can always be easily
managed. Take a woman's reputation — nothing is so easily
lost, we all know, before she is actually married ; but marry
her well, and she is free. She can have a dozen lovers if she
likes, and if she is a good manager her husband need never be
the wiser. He has his amours, of course — why should she
not have hers also ? Only some women are clumsy, they are
over-stnsitive and beUay themselves too easily ; then the

VENDETTA! 119

injured husband (carefully concealing his little peccadilloes)
finds everything out and there is a devil of a row — a moral
row, which is the worst kind of row. But a really clever
woman can always steer clear of slander if she likes."

Contemptible ruffian ! I thought, glancing at his hand-
some face and figure with scarcely veiled contempt. With
all his advantages of education and his well-bred air he was
yet ruffian to the core — as low in nature, if not lower, than
the half-savage tramp for whom no social law has ever ex-
isted or ever will exist. But I merely observed :

" It is easy to see that you have a thorough knowledge of
the world and its ways. I admire your perception ! From
your remarks I judge that you have no sympathy with marital
wrongs ? "

" Not the least," he replied, dryly ; " they are too common
and too ludicrous. The ' wronged husband,' as he con-
siders himself in such cases, always cuts such an absurd
figure."

" Always ? " I inquired, with apparent curiosity.

" Well, generally speaking, he does. How can he remedy
the matter ? He can only challenge his wife's lover. A duel
is fought in which neither of the opponents are killed, they
wound each other slightly, embrace, weep, have coffee to-
gether, and for the future consent to share the lady's affec-
tions amicably."

" Veramente / " I exclaimed, with a forced laugh, inwardly
cursing his detestable flippancy ; " that is the fashionable
mode of taking vengeance ? "

" Absolutely the one respectable way of doing it," he
replied ; " it is only the canaille who draw heart's blood in
earnest."

Only the canaille ! I looked at him fixedly. His smiling
eyes met mine with a frank and fearless candor. Evidently
he was not ashamed of his opinions, he rather gloried in
them. As he stood there with the warm sunlight playing
upon his features he seemed the very type of youthful and
splendid manhood ; an Apollo in exterior — in mind a Silenus.
My soul sickened at the sight of him. I felt that the sooner
this strong treacherous life was crushed the better ; there
would be one traitor less in the world at any rate. The
thought of my dread but just purpose passed over me like the
breath of a bitter wind — a tremor shook my nerves. My
face must have betrayed some sign of my inward emotion, fgr
Ferrari exclaimed :

£20 VENDETTA!

" You are fatigued, conte ? You are ill ! Pray take my
arm ! "

He extended it as he spoke. I put it gently but firmly aside.

" It is nothing," I said, coldly ; " a mere faintness which
often overcomes me, the remains of a recent illness." Here
I glanced at my watch ; the afternoon was waning rapidly.

" If you will excuse me," I continued, " I will now take
leave of you. Regarding the pictures you have permitted
me to select, my servant shall call for them this evening to
save you the trouble of sending them."

"It is no trouble " began Ferrari.

" Pardon me," I interrupted him ; " you must allow me to
arrange the matter in my own way. I am somewhat self-
willed, as you know."

He bowed and smiled — the smile of a courtier and syco-
phant— a smile I hated. He eagerly proposed to accompany
me back to my hotel, but I declined this offer somewhat per-
emptorily, though at the same time thanking him for his
courtesy. The truth was I had had almost too much of his
society ; the strain on my nerves began to tell ; I craved to
be alone. I felt that if I were much longer with him I should
be tempted to spring at him and throttle the life out of him.
As it was, I bade him adieu with friendly though constrained
politeness ; he was profuse in his acknowledgments of the
favor I had done him by purchasing his pictures. I waived
all thanks aside, assuring him that my satisfaction in the
matter far exceeded his, and that I was proud to be the pos-
sessor of such valuable proofs of his genius. He swallowed
my flattery as eagerly as a fish swallows bait, and we parted
on excellent terms. He watched me from his door as I
walked down the hilly road with the slow and careful step of
an elderly man ; once out of his sight, however, I quickened
my pace, for the tempest of conflicting sensations within me
made it difficult for me to maintain even the appearance of
composure. On entering my apartment at the hotel the first
thing that met my eyes was a large gilt osier basket, filled
with fine fruit and flowers, placed conspicuously on the
center-table.

I summoned my valet. " Who sent this ? " I demanded.

" Madame the Contessa Romani," replied Vincenzo, with
discreet gravity. " There is a card attached, if the eccel-
lenza will be pleased to look."

I did look. It was my wife's visiting-card, and on it
written in her own delicate penmanship—

VENDETTA! 12 1

" To remind the conte of his promised visit to-morrow."

A sudden anger possessed me. I crumpled up the dainty
glossy bit of pasteboard and flung it aside. The mingled
odors of the fruit and flowers offended my senses.

" I care nothing for these trifles," I said, addressing Vin-
cenzo almost impatiently. " Take them to the little daughter
of the hotel-keeper ; she is a child, she will appreciate them.
Take them away at once."

Obediently Vincenzo lifted the basket and bore it out of the
room. I was relieved when its fragrance and color had van-
ished. I, to receive as a gift, the product of my own garden !
Half vexed, half sore at heart, I threw myself into an easy-
chair — anon I laughed aloud ! So ! Madame commences
the game early, I thought. Already paying these marked at-
tentions to a man she knows nothing of beyond that he is re-
ported to be fabulously wealthy. Gold, gold forever! What
will it not do ! It will bring the proud to their knees, it will
force the obstinate to servile compliance, it will conquer
aversion and prejudice. The world is a slave to its yellow
glitter, and the love of woman, that perishable article of
commerce, is ever at its command. Would you obtain a kiss
from a pair of ripe-red lips that seem the very abode of
honeyed sweetness ? Pay for it then with a lustrous dia-
mond ; the larger the gem the longer the kiss ! The more
diamonds you give, the more caresses you will get. The
jeunesse doree who ruin themselves and their ancestral homes
for the sake of the newest and prettiest female puppet on the
stage know this well enough. I smiled bitterly as I thought
of the languid witching look my wife had given me when she
said, " You do not seem to be old ! " I knew the meaning
of her eyes ; I had not studied their liquid lights and shadows
so long for nothing. My road to revenge was a straight and
perfectly smooth line — almost too smooth. I could have
wished for some difficulty, some obstruction ; but there was
none — absolutely none. The traitors walked deliberately
into the trap set for them. Over and over again I asked
myself quietly and in cold blood — was there any reason why
I should have pity on them ? Had they shown one redeem-
ing point in their characters ? Was there any nobleness,
any honesty, any real sterling good quality in either of
them to justify my consideration ? And always the an-
swer came, No / Hollow to the heart's core, hypocrites
both, liars both — even the guilty passion they cherished for
one another had no real earnestness in k save the pursuit o|

122 VENDETTA !

present pleasure ; for she, Nina, in that fatal interview in the
avenue where I had been a tortured listener, had hinted at
the possibility of tiring of her lover, and he had frankly de-
clared to me that very day that it was absurd to suppose a
man could be true to one woman all his life. In brief, they
deserved their approaching fate. Such men as Guido and
such women as my wife, are, I know, common enough in all
classes of society, but they are not the less pernicious ani-
mals, meriting extermination as much, if not more, than the
less harmful beasts of prey. The poor beasts at any rate tell
too lies, and after death their skins are of some value ; but
who shall measure the mischief done by a false tongue — and
of what use is the corpse oZ a liar save to infect the air with
pestilence ? I used to wonder at the superiority of men over
(he rest of the animal creation, but I see now that it is chiefly
gained by excess of selfish cunning. The bulky, good-
natured, ignorant lion who has only one honest way of de-
fending himself, namely with tooth and claw, is no match for
the jumping two-legged little rascal who hides himself behind
a bush and fires a gun aimed direct at the bigger brute's
heart. Yet the lion's mode of battle is the braver of the two,
and the cannons, torpedoes and other implements of modern
warfare are proofs of man's cowardice and cruelty as much
is they are of his diabolical ingenuity. Calmly comparing
the ordinary lives of men and beasts — judging them by their
abstract virtues merely — I am inclined to think the beasts
the more respectable of the two !

CHAPTER XV.

" WELCOME to Villa Romani ! "

The words fell strangely on my ears. Was I dreaming, or
was I actually standing on the smooth green lawn of my own
garden, mechanically saluting my own wife, who, smiling
sweetly, uttered this cordial greeting ? For a moment or two
my brain became confused ; the familiar veranda with its
clustering roses and jasmine swayed unsteadily before my
eyes ; the stately house, the home of my childhood, the scene
of my past happiness, rocked in the air as though it were
about to fall. A choking sensation affected my throat.
Even the sternest men shed tears sometimes. Such tears
too ! wrung Jikjt drops of blood from the heart. And I — I
could have wept thus. Oh, the dear old home ! and how

VENDETTA\ 123

fair and yet how sad it seemed to my anguished gaze ! It
should have been in ruins surely — broken and cast down in
the dust like its master's peace and honor. Its master, did
I say? Who was its master? Involuntarily I glanced at
Ferrari, who stood beside me. Not he — not he ; by Heaven
he should never be master ! But where was my authority ?
I came to the place as a stranger and an alien. The starv-
ing beggar who knows not where to lay his head has no
emptier or more desolate heart than I had as I looked wist-
fully on the home which was mine before I died ! I noticed
some slight changes here and there ; for instance, my deep
easy-chair that had always occupied one particular corner
of the veranda was gone ; a little tame bird that I had loved,
whose cage used to hang up among the white roses on the
wall, was also gone. My old butler, the servant who ad-
mitted Ferrari and myself within the gates, had an expres-
sion of weariness and injury on his aged features which he
had not worn in my time, and which I was sorry to see.
And my dog, the noble black Scotch colly, what had become
of him, I wondered? He had been presented to me by a
young Highlander who had passed one winter with me in
Rome, and who, on returning to his native mountains, had
sent me the dog, a perfect specimen of its kind, as a souvenir
of our friendly intercourse. Poor Wyvis ! I thought. Had
they made away with him ? Formerly he had always been
visible about the house or garden ; his favorite place was on
the lowest veranda step, where he loved to bask in the heat
of the sun. And now he was nowhere visible. I was mutely
indignant at his disappearance, but I kept strict watch over
my feelings, and remembered in time the part I had to play.

" Welcome to Villa Romani ! " so said my wife. Then,
remarking my silence as I looked about me, she added with
a pretty coaxing air,

" I am afraid after all you are sorry you have come to see
me!"

I smiled. It served my purpose now to be as gallant and
agreeable as I could ; therefore I answered :

" Sorry, madame ! If I were, then should I be the most
ungrateful of all men ! Was Dante sorry, think you, when
he was permitted to behold Paradise ? "

She blushed; her eyes drooped softly under their long
curling lashes. Ferrari frowned impatiently — but was silent.
She led the way into the house — into the lofty cool drawing-
room, whose wide windows opened out to the garden. Here

114 VENDETTA!

all was the same as ever with the exception of one thing — a
marble bust of myself as a boy had been removed. The
grand piano was open, the mandoline lay on a side-table, look-
ing as though it had been recently used ; there were fresh
flowers and ferns in all the tall Venetian glass vases. I
seated myself and remarked on the beauty of the house and
its surroundings.

" I remember it very well," I added, quietly.

" You remember it ! " exclaimed Ferrari, quickly, as though
surprised.

" Certainly. I omitted to tell you, my friend, that I used
to visit this spot often when a boy. The elder Conte
Romani and myself played about these grounds together.
The scene is quite familiar to me."

Nina listened with an appearance of interest.

" Did you, ever see my late husband ? " she asked.

" Once," I answered her, gravely. " He was a mere child
at the time, and, as far as I could discern, a very promising
one. His father seemed greatly attached to him. I knew
his mother also."

" Indeed," she exclaimed, settling herself on a low otto-
man and fixing her eyes upon me ; "what was she like ? "

I paused a moment before replying. Could I speak of
that unstained sacred life of wifehood and motherhood to
this polluted though lovely creature ?

" She was a beautiful woman unconscious of her beauty,"
I answered at last. " There, all is said. Her sole aim
seemed to be to forget herself in making others happy, and
to surround her home with an atmosphere of goodness and
virtue. She died young."

Ferrari glanced at me with an evil sneer in his eyes.

" That was fortunate," he said. " She had no time to tire
of her husband, else — who knows ? "

My blood rose rapidly to an astonishing heat, but I con-
trolled myself.

" I do not understand you," I said, with marked frigidity.
" The lady I speak of lived and died under the old regime of
noblesse oblige. I am not so well versed in modern social
forms of morality as yourself."

Nina hastily interposed. " Oh, my dear conte," she said,
laughingly, " pay no attention to Signer Ferrari ! He is rash
sometimes, and says very foolish things, but he really does
not mean them. It is only his way ! My poor dear husband
used to be quite vexed with him sometimes, though he wa$

VEND ETTA f 125

SO fond of him. But, conte, as you know so much about
the family, I am sure you will like to see my little Stella.
Shall I send for her, or are you bored by children ? "

" On the contrary, madame, I am fond of them," I an-
swered, with forced composure, though my heart throbbed
with mingled delight and agony at the thought of seeing my
little one again. " And the child of my old friend's son must
needs have a double interest for me."

My wife tang the bell, and gave orders to the maid who
answered it to send her little girl to her at once. Ferrari
meanwhile engaged me in conversation, and strove, I could
see, by entire deference to my opinions, to make up for any
offense his previous remark might have given. A few mo-
ments passed — and then the handle of the drawing-room
door was timidly turned by an evidently faltering and un-
practiced hand. Nina called out impatiently — "Come in,
baby ! Do not be afraid — come in ! " With that the door
slowly opened and my little daughter entered. Though I
had been so short a time absent from her it was easy to see
the child had changed very much. Her face looked pinched
and woe-begone, its expression was one of fear and distrust.
The laughter had faded out of her young eyes, and was re-
placed by a serious look of pained resignation that was piti-
ful to see in one of her tender years. Her mouth drooped
plaintively at the corners — her whole demeanor had an ap-
pealing anxiety in it that spoke plainly to my soul and en-
lightened me as to the way she had evidently been forgotten
and neglected. She approached us hesitatingly, but stopped
half-way and looked doubtfully at Ferrari. He met her
alarmed gaze with a mocking smile.

" Come along, Stella ! " he said. " You need not be fright-
ened ! I will not scold you unless you are naughty. Silly
child ! you look as if I were the giant in the fairy tale, go-
ing to eat you up for dinner. Come and speak to this gen-
tleman — he knew your papa."

At this word her eyes brightened, her small steps grevi
more assured and steady — she advanced and put her tiny
hand in mine. The touch of the soft, uncertain little fingers
almost unmanned me. I drew her toward me and lifted her
on my knee. Under pretense of kissing her I hid my face
for a second or two in her clustering fair curls, while I forced
back the womanish tears that involuntarily filled my eyes.
My poor little darling ! I wonder now how I maintained my
set composure before the innocent thoughtfulness of her

12$ VENDETTA I

gravely questioning gaze ! I had fancied she might possibly
be scared by the black spectacles I wore — children are
frightened by such things sometimes — but she was not. No ;
she sat on my knee with an air of perfect satisfaction, though
she looked at me so earnestly as almost to disturb my self-
possession. Nina and Ferrari watched her with some amuse-
ment, but she paid no heed to them — she persisted in staring
at me. Suddenly a slow sweet smile — the tranquil smile of
a contented baby, dawned all over her face ; she extended
her little arms, and, of her own accord, put up her lips to
kiss me ! Half startled at this manifestation of affection, I
hurriedly caught her to my heart and returned her caress,
then I looked furtively at my wife and Guido. Had they
any suspicion ? No ! why should they have any ? Had not
Ferrari himself seen me buried 1 Reassured by this thought
I addressed myself to Stella, making my voice as gratingly
harsh as I could, for I dreaded the child's quick instinct.

" You are a very charming little lady ! " I said, playfully.
" And so your name is Stella ? That is because you are a
little star, I suppose ? "

She became meditative. " Papa said I was," she answered,
softly and shyly.

" Papa spoiled you ! " interposed Nina, pressing a filmy
black-bordered handkerchief to her eyes. " Poor papa I
You were not so naughty to him as you are to me."

The child's lip quivered, but she was silent.

" Oh, f y ! " I murmured, half chidingly. " Are you ever
naughty ? Surely not ! All little stars are good — they never
cry — they are always bright and calm."

Still she remained mute — a sigh, deep enough for an older
sufferer, heaved her tiny breast. She leaned her head against
my arm and raised her eyes appealingly.

" Have you seen my papa ? " she asked, timidly. " Will
he come back soon ? "

For a moment I did not answer her. Ferrari took it upon
himself to reply roughly.

" Don't talk nonsense, baby ! You know your papa has
gone away — you were too naughty for him, and he will never
come back again. He has gone to a place where there are no
tiresome little girls to tease him."

Thoughtless and cruel words ! I at once understood the
secret grief that weighed on the child's mind. Whenever
she was fretful or petulant, they evidently impressed it upon
her that her father had left her because of her naughtiness.

VENDETTA!

1*7

She had taken this deeply to heart ; no doubt she had
brooded upon it in her own vague childish fashion, and haci!
puzzled her little brain as to what she could possibly have
done to displease her father so greatly that he had actually
gone away never to return. Whatever her thoughts were,
she did not on this occasion give vent to them by tears or
words. She only turned her eyes on Ferrari with a look of
intense pride and scorn, strange to see in so little a creature
— a true Romani look, such as I had often noticed in my
father's eyes, and such as I knew must be frequently visible
in my own. Ferrari saw it, and burst out laughing loudly.

" There ! " he exclaimed. " Like that she exactly re-
sembles her father ! It is positively ludicrous ! Fabio, all
over ! She only wants one thing to make the portrait perfect."
And approaching her, he snatched one of her long curls and
endeavored to twist it over her mouth in the form of a mus-
tache. The child struggled angrily, and hid her face against
my coat. The more she tried to defend herself the greater
the malice with which Ferrari tormented her. Her mother
did not interfere — she only laughed. I held the little thing
closely sheltered in my embrace, and steadying down the
quiver of indignation in my voice, I said with quiet firmness :

" Fair play, signor ! Fair play ! Strength becomes mere
bullying when it is employed against absolute weakness."

Ferrari laughed again, but this time uneasily, and ceasing
his monkeyish pranks, walked to the window. Smoothing
Stella's tumbled hair, I added with a sarcastic smile :

"This little donzella will have her revenge when she grows
up. Recollecting how one man teased her in childhood, she,
in return, will consider herself justified in teasing all men.
Do you not agree with me, madame ? " I said, turning to my
wife, who gave me a sweetly coquettish look as she answered :

" Well, really, conte, I do not know ! For with the remem-
brance of one man who teased her, must come also the
thought of another who was kind to her — yourself — she will
find it difficult to decide the juste milieu"

A subtle compliment was meant to be conveyed in these
words. I acknowledged it by a silent gesture of admiration,
which she quickly understood and accepted. Was ever a
man in the position of being delicately flattered by his own
wife before ? I think not ! Generally married persons are
like candid friends — fond of telling each other very unpleas-
ant truths, and altogether avoiding the least soup$on of
flattery. Thouerh I was not so much flattered as amused—

ia8 VENDETTA!

considering the position of affairs. Just then a servant threw
open the door and announced dinner. I set my child very
gently down from my knee and whisperingly told her that I
would come and see her soon again. She smiled trustfully,
and then in obedience to her mother's imperative gesture,
slipped quietly out of the room. As soon as she had gone
I praised her beauty warmly, for she was really a lovely little
thing — but I could see my admiration of her was not very
acceptable to either my wife or her lover. We all went in to
dinner — I, as guest, having the privilege of escorting my fair
and spotless spouse ! On our reaching the dining-room
Nina said —

" You are such an old friend of the family, conte, that per-
haps you will not mind sitting at th? head of the table 1 "

" Tropp* onore, signora ! " I answered, bowing gallantly, as
I at once resumed my rightful place at my own table, Ferrari
placing himself on my right hand, Nina on my left. The
butler, my father's servant and mine, .stood as of old behind
my chair, and I noticed that each time he supplied me with
wine he eyed me with a certain timid curiosity — but I knew
I had a singular and conspicuous appearance, which easily
accounted for his inquisitiveness. Opposite to where I sat,
hung my father's portrait — the character I personated per-
mitted me to look at it fixedly and give full vent to the deep
sigh which in very earnest broke from my heart. The eyes
of the picture seemed to gaze into mine with a sorrowful
compassion — almost I fancied the firm-set lips trembled and
moved to echo my sigh.

" Is that a good likeness ? " Ferrari asked, suddenly.

I started, and recollecting myself, answered :

" Excellent ! So true a resemblance that it arouses a long
train of memories in my mind — memories both bitter and
sweet. Ah ! what a proud fellow he was ! "

" Fabio was also very proud," chimed in my wife's sweet
voice. " Very cold and haughty "

Little liar ! How dared she utter this libel on my mem*
ory ! Haughty, I might have been to others, but never to
her — and coldness was no part of my nature. Would that it
were ! Would that I had been a pillar of ice, incapable of
thawing in the sunlight of her witching smile ! Had she
forgotten what a slave I was to her ? what a poor, adoring,
passionate fool I became under the influence of her hypo-
critical caresses 1 I thought this to myself, but I answered
aloud;

VENDETTA! 129

" Indeed ! I am surprised to hear that. - The Romani
hauteur had ever to my mind something genial and yielding
about it — I know my friend was always most gentle to his
dependents."

The butler here coughed apologetically behind his hand
— an old trick 'of his, and one which signified his intense de-
sire to speak.

Ferrari laughed, as he held out his glass for more wine.

" Here is old Giacomo," he said, nodding to him lightly.
" He remembers both the Romanis — ask him his opinion of
Fabio — he worshiped his master."

I turned to my servant, and with a benignant air addressed
him :

"Your face is not familiar to me, my friend," I said.
" Perhaps you were not here when I visited the elder Count
Romani ? "

" No, eccellenza," replied Giacomo, rubbing his withered
hands nervously together, and speaking with a sort of sup-
pressed eagerness, " I came into my lord's service only a year
before the countess died — I mean the mother of the young
count."

" Ah ! then I missed making your acquaintance," I said,
kindly, pitying the poor old fellow, as I noticed how his lips
trembled, and how altogether broken he looked. " You knew
the last count from childhood, then ?"

" I did, eccellenza ! " And his bleared eyes roved over me
with a sort of alarmed inquiry.

** You loved him well ? " I said, composedly, observing him
with embarrassment.

" Eccellenza, I never wish to serve a better master. He
was goodness itself — a fine, handsome, generous lad — the
saints have his soul in their keeping ! Though sometimes I
cannot believe he is dead — my old heart almost broke when
I heard it. I have never been the same since — my lady will
tell you so — she is often displeased with me."

And he looked wistfully at her ; there was a note of plead-
ing in his hesitating accents. My wife's delicate brows drew
together in a frown ; a frown that I had once thought came
from mere petulance, but which I was now inclined to accept
as a sign of temper.

" Yes, indeed, Giacomo," she said, in hard tones, altogether
unlike her usual musical voice. " You are growing so forget-
ful that it is positively annoying. You know I have often to
9

I30 VENDETTA !

tell you the same thing several times. One command ought
to be sufficient for you."

Giacomo passed his hand over his forehead in a troubled
way, sighed, and was silent. Then, as if suddenly recollect-
ing his duty, he refilled my glass, and shrinking aside, re-
sumed his former position behind my chair.

The conversation now turned on desultory and indifferent
matters. I knew my wife was an excellent talker, but on that
particular evening I think she surpassed herself. She had re-
solved to fascinate me, that I saw at once, and she spared no
pains to succeed in her ambition. Graceful sallies, witty bon-
mots tipped with the pungent sparkle of satire, gay stories
well and briskly told, all came easily from her lips, so that
though I knew her so well, she almost surprised me by her
variety and fluency. Yet this gift of good conversation in a
woman is apt to mislead the judgment of those who listen, for
it is seldom the result of thought, and still more seldom is it a
proof of intellectual capacity. A woman talks as a brook
babbles ; pleasantly, but without depth. Her information is
generally of the most surface kind — she skims the cream off
each item of news, and serves it up to you in her own fashion,
caring little whether it be correct or the reverse. And the
more vivaciously she talks, the more likely she is to be dan-
gerously insincere and cold-hearted, for the very sharpness of
her wit is apt to spoil the more delicate perceptions of her nat-
ure. Show me a brilliant woman noted for turning an epigram
or pointing a satire, and I will show you a creature whose life
is a masquerade, full of vanity, sensuality and pride. The
man who marries such a one must be content to take the
second place in his household, and play the character of the
henpecked husband with what meekness he best may. An-
swer me, ye long suffering spouses of " society women," how
much would you give to win back your freedom and self-re-
spect ? to be able to hold your head up unabashed before your
own servants ? to feel that you can actually give an order with-
out its being instantly countermanded ? Ah, my poor friends !
millions will not purchase you such joy ; as long as your fas-
cinating fair ones are like Caesar's wife, " above suspicion "
(and they are generally prudent managers), so long must you
dance in their chains like the good-natured clumsy bears that
you are, only giving vent to a growl now and then ; a growl
which at best only excites ridicule. My wife was of the true
world worldly ; never had I seen her real character so plainly
as now, when she exerted herself to entertain and charm me.

VENDETTA1 1^1

I had thought her spirituelle, ethereal, angelic ! never was
there less of an angel than she ! While she talked, I was
quick to observe the changes on Ferrari's countenance. He
became more silent and sullen as her brightness and cordial-
ity increased. I would not appear aware of the growing
stiffness in his demeanor; I continued to draw him into the
conversation, forcing him to give opinions on various sub-
jects connected with the art of which he was professedly a
follower. He was very reluctant to speak at all ; and when
compelled to do so, his remarks were curt and almost snap-
pish, so much so that my wife made a laughing comment on
his behavior.

" You are positively ill-tempered, Guido ! " she exclaimed,
then remembering she had addressed him by his Christian
name, she turned to me and added — " I always call him
Guido, en famille ; you know he is just like a brother to
me."

He looked at her and his eyes flashed dangerously, but he
was mute. Nina was evidently pleased to see him in such a
vexed mood ; she delighted to pique his pride, and as he
steadily gazed at her in a sort of reproachful wonder, she
laughed joyously. Then rising from the table, she made us
a coquettish courtesy.

" I will leave you two gentlemen to finish your wine to-
gether," she said, " I know all men love to talk a little
scandal, and they must be alone to enjoy it. Afterward,
will you join me in the veranda ? You will find coffee
ready."

I hastened to open the door for her as she passed out smil-
ing ; then, returning to the table, I poured out more wine for
myself and Ferrari, who sat gloomily eying his own reflection
in the broad polished rim of a silver fruit-dish that stood
near him. Giacomo, the butler, had long ago left the room ;
we were entirely alone. I thought over my plans for a mo-
ment or two ; the game was as interesting as a problem in
chess. With the deliberation of a prudent player I made my
next move.

" A lovely woman ! " I murmured, meditatively, sipping my
wine, " and intelligent also. I admire your taste, signor ! "

He started violently. " What — what do you mean ? " he
demanded, half fiercely. I stroked my mustache and smiled
at him benevolently.

"Ah, young blood ! young blood ! " I sighed, shaking my
head, " it will have its way ! My good sir, why be ashamed

133 V&N&ETTAt

of your feelings ? I heartily sympathize with you ; if the lady
does not appreciate the affection of so ardent and gallant an
admirer, then she is foolish indeed ! It is not every woman
who has such a chance of happiness."

"You think — you imagine that — that — I "

"That you are in love with her?" I said, composedly.
" Ma — ccrtamente! And why not? It is as it should be.
Even the late conte could wish no fairer fate for his beauti-
ful widow than that she should become the wife of his chosen
friend. Permit me to drink your health ! Success to your
love ! " And I drained my glass as I finished speaking.
Unfortunate fool ! He was completely disarmed ; his sus-
picions of me melted away like mist before the morning
light. His face cleared — he seized my hand and pressed it
warmly.

" Forgive me, conte," he said, with remorseful fervor ; " I
fear I have been rude and unsociable. Your kind words
have put me right again. You will think me a jealous mad-
man, but I really fancied that you were beginning to feel an
attraction for her yourself, and actually — (pardon me, I en-
treat of you ! ) actually I was making up my mind to — to kill
you ! "

I laughed quietly. " Veramente ! How very amiable of
you ! It was a good intention, but you know what place is
paved with similar designs ? "

" Ah, conte, it is like your generosity to take my confes-
sion so lightly ; but I assure you, for the last hour I have
been absolutely wretched ! "

" After the fashion of all lovers, I suppose," I answered —
" torturing yourself without necessity ! Well, well, it is very
amusing ! My young friend, when you come to my time of
life, you will prefer the chink of gold to the laughter and
kisses of women. How often must I repeat to you that I
am a man absolutely indifferent to the tender passion ? Be-
lieve it or not, it is true."

He drank off his wine at one gulp and spoke with some
excitement.

" Then I will frankly confide in you. I do love the con-
tessa. Love ! it is too weak a word to describe what I feel.
The touch of her hand thrills me, her very voice seems to
shake my soul, her eyes burn through me ! Ah ! you cannot
know — you could not understand the joy, the pain —

" Calm yourself," I said, in a cold tone, watching my vic-
tim as his pent-up emotion betrayed itself. " The great thing

VENDETTA! 133

is to keep the head cool when the blood burns. You think
she loves you ? "

" Think ! Gran Dio ! She has " here he paused and his

face flushed deeply — " nay ! I have no right to say anything
on that score. 1 know she never cared for her husband."

" I know that too ! " I answered, steadily. " The most
casual observer cannot fail to notice it."

" Well, and no wonder ! " he exclaimed, warmly. " He
was such an undemonstrative fool ! What business had such
a fellow as that to marry so exquisite a creature ! "

My heart leaped with a sudden impulse of fury, but I con-
trolled my voice and answered calmly :

" Requiescat in pace ! He is dead — let him rest. What-
ever his faults, his wife of course was true to him while he
lived ; she considered him worthy of fidelity — is it not so? "

He lowered his eyes as he replied in an indistinct tone :

"Oh,*certainly!"

" And you — you were a most loyal and faithful friend to
him, in spite of the tempting bright eyes of his lady ? "

Again he answered huskily, " Why, of course ! " But the
shapely hand that rested on the table so near to mine trem-
bled.

" Well, then," I continued, quietly, " the love you bear
now to his fair widow is, I imagine, precisely what he would
approve. Being, as you say, perfectly pure and blameless,
what can I wish otherwise than this — may it meet with the re-
ward it deserves /"

While I spoke he moved uneasily in his chair, and his eyes
roved to my father's picture with restless annoyance. I sup-
pose he saw in it the likeness to his dead friend. After a
moment or two of silence he turned to me with a forced
smile —

" And so you really entertain no admiration for the con-
tessa ? "

" Oh, pardon me, I do entertain a very strong admiration
for her, but not of the kind you seem to suspect. If it will
please you, I can guarantee that I shall never make love to
the lady unless "

" Unless what ? " he asked, eagerly.

" Unless she happens to make love to me, in which case it
would be ungallant not to reciprocate ! "

And I laughed harshly. He stared at me in blank sur-
prise. " She make love to you /" he exclaimed. " You jest
She would never do such a thing."

134 VENDETTA!

" Of course not ! " I answered, rising and clapping him
heavily on the shoulder. " Women never court men, it is
quite unheard of ; a reverse of the order of nature ! You are
perfectly safe, my friend ; you will certainly win the recom-
pense you so richly merit. Come, let us go and drink coffee
with the fair one."

And arm-in-arm we sauntered out to the veranda in the
most friendly way possible. Ferrari was completely restored
to good humor, and Nina, I thought, was rather relieved to
see it. She was evidently afraid of Ferrari — a good point
for me to remember. She smiled a welcome to us as we ap-
proached, and began to pour out the fragrant coffee. It was
a glorious evening ; the moon was already high in the
heavens, and the nightingales' voices echoed softly from the
distant woods. As I seated myself in a low chair that was
placed invitingly near that of my hostess, my ears were
startled by a long melancholy howl, which changed every
now and then to an impatient whine.

" What is that ? " I asked, though the question was need-
less, for I knew the sound.

" Oh, it is that tiresome dog Wyvis," answered Nina, in a
vexed tone. " He belonged to Fabio. He makes the even-
ing quite miserable with his moaning."

" Where is he ? "

''Well, after my husband's death he became so trouble-
some, roaming all over the house and wailing; and then he
would insist on sleeping in Stella's room close to her bed-
side. He really worried me both day and night, so I was
compelled to chain him up."

Poor Wyvis ! He was sorely punished for his fidelity.

" I am very fond of dogs,". I said, slowly, " and they gen-
erally take to me with extraordinary devotion. May I see
this one of yours ? "

"Oh, certainly ! Guido, will you go and unfasten him ? "

Guido did not move ; he leaned easily back in his chair
sipping his coffee.

" Many thanks," he answered, with a half laugh ; " per-
haps you forget that last time I did so he nearly tore me to
pieces. If you do not object, I would rather Giacomo
undertook the task."

11 After such an account of the animal's conduct, perhaps
the conte will not care to see him. It is true enough," turn-
ing to me as she spoke, " Wyvis has taken a great dislike to
Signor Ferrari — and yet he is a good-natured dog, and play*

VENDETTA ! 135

with my little girl all day if she goes to him. Do you feel in-
clined to see him ? Yes ? " And, as I bowed in the affirm-
ative, she rang a Mttle bell twice, and the butler appeared.

" Giacomo," she continued, " unloose Wyvis and send him
here."

Giacomo gave me another of those timid questioning
glances, and departed to execute his order. In another five
minutes, the howling had suddenly ceased, a long, lithe,
black, shadowy creature came leaping wildly across the
moonlighted lawn — Wyvis was racing at full speed. He
paid no heed to his mistress or Ferrari ; he rushed straight
to me with a yelp of joy. His huge tail wagged incessantly,
he panted thirstily with excitement, he frisked round and
round my chair, he abased himself and kissed my feet and
hands, he rubbed his stately head fondly against my knee.
His frantic demonstrations of delight were watched by my
wife and Ferrari with utter astonishment. I observed their
surprise, and said lightly :

" I told you how it would be ! It is nothing remarkable,
I assure you. All dogs treat me in the same way."

And I laid my hand on the animal's neck with a command-
ing pressure ; he lay down at once, only now and then rais-
ing his large wistful brown eyes to my face as though he
wondered what had changed it so greatly. But no disguise
could deceive his intelligence — the faithful creature knew
his master. Meantime I thought Nina looked pale ; cer-
tainly the little jeweled white hand nearest to me shook
slightly.

" Are you afraid of this noble animal, madame ? " I asked,
watching her closely. She laughed, a little forcedly.

" Oh, no ! But Wyvis is usually so shy with strangers, and
I never saw him greet any one so rapturously except my late
husband. It is really very odd ! "

Ferrari, by his looks, agreed with her, and appeared to be
uneasily considering the circumstance.

" Strange to say," he remarked, " Wyvis has for once for-
gotten me. He never fails to give me a passing snarl."

Hearing his voice, the dog did indeed commence growling
discontentedly ; but a touch from me silenced him. The
animal's declared enmity toward Ferrari surprised me — it
was quite a new thing, as before my burial his behavior to
him had been perfectly friendly.

" I have had a great deal to do with dogs in my time," I
, speaking in a deliberately composed voice3 ** I have

136 PENDETTA !

found their instinct marvelous ; they generally seem to recog-
nize at once the persons who are fond of their society. This
Wyvis of yours, contessa, has no doubt discovered that I
have had many friends among his brethren, so that there is
nothing strange in his making so much of me."

The air of studied indifference with which I spoke, and
the fact of my taking the exuberant delight of \Yyvis as a
matter of course, gradually reassured the plainly disturbed
feelings of my two betrayers, for after a little pause the
incident was passed over, and our conversation went on with
pleasant and satisfactory smoothness. Before my departure
that evening, however, 1 offered to chain up the dog — " as,
if I do this," I added, " I guarantee he will not disturb your
night's rest by his howling."

This suggestion met with approval, and Ferrari walked
with me to show me where the kennel stood. I chained
Wyvis, and stroked him tenderly ; he appeared to understand,
and he accepted his fate with perfect resignation, lying
down upon his bed of straw without a sign of opposition,
save for one imploring look out of his intelligent eyes as I
turned away and left him.

On making my adieus to Nina, I firmly refused Ferrari's
offered companionship in the walk back to my hotel.

" I am fond of a solitary moonlight stroll," I said. " Per-
mit me to have my own way in the matter."

After some friendly argument they yielded to my wishes.
I bade them both a civil " good-night," bending low over my
wife's hand and kissing it, coldly enough, God knows, and
yet the action was sufficient to make her flush and sparkle
with pleasure. Then I left them, Ferrari himself escorting
me to the villa gates, and watching me pass out on the open
road. As long as he stood there, I walked with a slow and
meditative pace toward the city, but the instant I heard
the gate clang heavily as it closed, I hurried back with a
cautious and noiseless step. Avoiding the great entrance,
I slipped round to the western side of the grounds, where
there was a close thicket of laurel that extended almost up to
the veranda I had just left. Entering this and bending the
boughs softly aside as I pushed my way through, 1 gradually
reached a position from whence I could see the veranda
plainly, and also hear anything that passed. Guido was
sitting on the low chair 1 had just vacated, leaning his head
back against my wife's breast ; he had reached up one arm
so that it encircled her neck, and drew her head down toward

VENDETTA! 137

his. In this half embrace they rested absolutely silent for
some moments. Suddenly Ferrari spoke :

" You are very cruel, Nina ! You actually made me think
you admired that rich old conte."

She laughed. " So I do ! He would be really handsome
if he did not wear those ugly spectacles. And his jewels are
lovely. I wish he would give me some more ! "

"And supposing he were to do so, would you care for him,
Nina ? " he demanded, jealously. " Surely not. Besides,
you have no idea how conceited he is. He says he will never
make love to a woman unless she first makes love to him ;
what do you think of that ? "

She laughed again, more merrily than before.

" Think ! Why, that he is very original — charmingly so !
Are you coming in, Guido ? "

He rose, and standing erect, almost lifted her from her
chair and folded her in his arms.

" Yes, I am coming in," he answered ; " and I will have a
hundred kisses for every look and smile you bestowed on the
conte ! You little coquette ! You would flirt with your
grandfather ! "

She rested against him with apparent tenderness, one hand
playing with the flower in his buttonhole, and then she said,
with a slight accent of fear in her voice —

" Tell me, Guido, do you not think he is a little like — like
Fabio ? Is there not a something in his manner that seems
familiar ? "

*' I confess I have fancied so once or twice," he returned,
musingly ; " there is rather a disagreeable resemblance. But
what of that ? many men are almost counterparts of each
other. But I tell you what I think. I am almost positive he
is some long-lost relation of the family — Fabio's uncle for all
we know, who does not wish to declare his actual relation-
ship. He is a good old fellow enough, I believe, and is cer-
tainly rich as Crcesus ; he will be a valuable friend to us both.
Come, sposina mta, it is time to go to rest."

And they disappeared within the house, and shut the win-
dows after them. 1 immediately left my hiding-place, and
resumed my way toward Naples. I was satisfied they had no
suspicion of the truth. After all, it was absurd of me to fancy
they might have, for people in general do not imagine it
possible for a buried man to come back to life again. The
game was in my own hands, and I now resolved to play itout
with as little delay as possible.

13* VENDETTA I

CHAPTER XVI.

TIME flew swiftly on — a month, six weeks, passed, and dur-
ing that short space I had established myself in Napies as a
great personage — great, because of my wealth and the style in
which I lived. No one in all the numerous families of dis-
tinction that eagerly sought my acquaintance cared \vhetlu-r I
had intellect or intrinsic personal worth ; it sufficed to them
that I kept a carriage and pair, an elegant and costly equi-
page, softly lined with satin and drawn by two Arabian mares
as black as polished ebony. The value of my friendship was
measured by the luxuriousness of my box at the opera, and
by the dainty fittings of my yacht, a swift trim vessel furnished
with every luxury, and having on boar a band of stringed
instruments which discoursed sweet music when the moon
emptied her horn of silver radiance on the rippling water. In
a little while I knew everybody who was worth knowing in
Naples ; everywhere my name was talked of, my doings were
chronicled in the fashionable newspapers ; stories of my lavish
generosity were repeated from mouth to mouth, and the most
highly colored reports of my immense revenues were whis-
pered with a kind of breathless awe at every cafe and street
corner. Tradesmen waylaid my reticent valet, Vincenzo, and
gave him douceurs in the hope he would obtain my custom
for them — " tips " which he pocketed in his usual reserved
and discreet manner, but which he was always honest enough
to tell me of afterward. He would most faithfully give me
the name and address of this or that particular tempter of his
fidelity, always adding — " As to whether the rascal sells good
things or bad our Lady only knows, but truly he gave me
thirty francs to secure your excellency's good-will. Though
for all that I would not recommend him if your excellency-
knows of an honester man ! "

Among other distinctions which my wealth forced upon me,
were the lavish attentions of match-making mothers. Th<
black spectacles which I always wore, were not repulsive t<.
these diplomatic dames — on the contrary, some of them as-
sured me they were most becoming, so anxious were they to
secure me as a son-in-law. Fair girls in their teens, blushing
and ingenuous, were artfully introduced to me — or, I should
say, thrust forward like slaves in a market for my inspection
^—though, to do them justice, they were remarkably shrewd

VENDETTA! 139

and sharp-witted for their tender years. Young as they were,
they were keenly alive to the importance of making a good
match — and no doubt the pretty innocents laid many dainty
schemes in their own minds for liberty and enjoyment when
one or the other of them should become the Countess Oliva
and fool the old black-spectacled husband to her heart's con-
tent. Needless to say their plans were not destined to be ful-
filled, though I rather enjoyed studying the many devices
they employed to fascinate me. What pretty ogling glances
I received ! — what whispered admiration of my " beautiful
white hair ! so distingue /" — what tricks of manner, alternating
from grave to gay, from rippling mirth to witching languor !
Many an evening I sat at ease on board my yacht, watching
with a satirical inward amusement, one, perhaps two or three
of these fair schemers ransacking their youthful brains for
new methods to entrap the old millionaire, as they thought
me, into the matrimonial net. I used to see their eyes —
sparkling with light in the sunshine — grow liquid and dreamy
in the mellow radiance of the October moon, and turn upon
me with a vague wistfulness most lovely to behold, and — most
admirably feigned ! I could lay my hand on a bare round
white arm and not be repulsed — I could hold little clinging
fingers in my own as long as I liked without giving offense —
such are some of the privileges of wealth !

In all the parties of pleasure I formed, and these were
many — my wife and Ferrari were included as a matter of
course. At first Nina demurred, with some plaintive excuse
concerning her " recent terrible bereavement," but I easily
persuaded her out of this. I even told some ladies I knew
to visit her and add their entreaties to mine, as I said, with
the benignant air of an elderly man, that it was not good for
one so young to waste her time and injure her health by use-
less grieving. She saw the force of this, I must admit, with
admirable readiness, and speedily yielded to the united in-
vitations she received, though always with a well-acted re-
luctance, and saying that she did so merely " because the
Count Oliva was such an old friend of the family and knew
my poor dear husband as a child."

On Ferrari I heaped all manner of benefits. Certain debts
of his contracted at play I paid privately to surprise him —
his gratitude was extreme. I humored him in many of his
small extravagances — I played with his follies as an angler
plays the fish at the end of his line, and I succeeded in win-
ning his confidence. Not that I ever could surprise him into

14.0 VENDETTA J

a confession of his guilty amour — but he kept me well in*
formed as to what ho was pleased to call "the progress of
his attachment," and supplied me with many small details
which, while they fired my blood and brain to wrath, steadied
me more surely in my plan of vengeance. Little did he
dream in whom he was trusting ! — little did he know into
whose hands he was playing ! Sometimes a kind of awful
astonishment would come over me as I listened to his trivial
talk, and heard him make plans for a future that was never
to be. He seemed so certain of his happiness — so absolutely
sure that nothing could or would intervene to mar it. Trai-
tor as he was he was unable to foresee punishment — materialist
to the heart's core, he had no knowledge of the divine law of
compensation. Now and then a dangerous impulse stirred
me — a desire to say to him point-blank :

" You are a condemned criminal — a doomed man on the
brink of the grave. Leave this light converse and frivolous
jesting — and, while there is time, prepare for death ! "

Bu*t I bit my lips and kept stern silence. Often, too, I
felt disposed to seize him by the throat, and, declaring ijiy
identity, accuse him of his treachery to his face, but I always
remembered and controlled myself. One point in his char-
acter I knew well — I had known it of old — this was his exces-
sive love of good wine. I aided and abetted him in this weak-
ness, and whenever he visited me I took care that he should
have his choice of the finest vintages. Often after a convivial
evening spent in my apartments with a few other young men
of his class and caliber, he reeled out of my presence, his
deeply flushed face and thick voice bearing plain testimony as
to his condition. On these occasions I used to consider with
a sort of fierce humor how Nina would receive him — for
though she saw no offense in the one kind of vice she herself
practiced, she had a particular horror of vulgarity in any
form, and drunkenness was one of those low failings she
specially abhorred.

" Go to your lady-love, mon beau Silenus ! " I would think,
as I watched him leaving my hotel with a couple of his boon
companions, staggering and laughing loudly as he went, or
singing the last questionable street-song of the Neapolitan
bas-peuple. " You are in a would-be riotous and savage mood
— her finer animal instincts will revolt from you, as a lithe
gazelle would fly from the hideous gambols of a rhinoceros.
She is already afraid of you — in a little while she will loofc

VENDETTA t 141

Upon you with loathing and disgust — tant pis pour vous, tant
m ieux pour moi ! ' '

I had of course attained the position of ami intime at tho
Villa Roman i. I was welcome there at any hour — I could
examine and read my own books in my own library at leisure
(what a privilege was mine) ; I could saunter freely through the
beautiful gardens accompanied by Wyvis, who attended me
as a matter of course ; in short, the house was almost at my
disposal, though I never passed a night under its roof. I
carefully kept up my character as a prematurely elderly man,
slightly' invalided by a long and ardous career in far-off
foreign lands, and I was particularly prudent in my behavior
toward my wife before Ferrari. Never did I permit the
least word or action on my part that could arouse his jealousy
or suspicion. • I treated her with a sort of parental kindness
and reserve, but she — trust a woman for intrigue ! — she was
quick to perceive my reasons for so doing. Directly Ferrari's
back was turned she would look at me with a glance of co-
quettish intelligence, and smile — a little mocking, half-pet-
ulant smile — or she would utter some disparaging remark
about him, combining with it a covert compliment to me.
It was not for me to betray her secrets — I saw no occasion
to tell Ferrari that nearly every morning she sent her maid
to my hotel with fruit and flowers and inquiries after my
health — nor was my valet Vincenzo the man to say that he
carried gifts and similar messages from me to her. But at
the commencement of November things were so far advanced
that I was in the unusual position of being secretly courted
by my own wife ! — I reciprocating her attentions with equal
secrecy ! The fact of my being often in the company of other
ladies piqued her vanity — she knew that I was considered a
desirable parti — and — she resolved to win me. In this case
I also resolved — to be won ! A grim courtship truly — be-
tween a dead man and his own widow ! Ferrari never sus-
pected what was going on ; he had spoken of me as " that
poor fool Fabio, he was too easily duped ; yet never was there
one more " easily duped " than himself, or to whom the
epithet " poor fool " more thoroughly applied. As I said be-
fore, he was sure — too sure of his own good fortune. I wished
to excite his distrust and enmity sometimes, but this I found
I could not do. He trusted me — yes ! as much as in the
old days I had trusted him. Therefore, the catastrophe for
him must be sudden as well as fatal — perhaps, after all, it
was better so.

I42 VENDETTA!

During my frequent visits to the villa I saw much of m^
child Stella. She became passionately attached to me — poor
little thing! — her love was a mere natural instinct, had she
but known it. Often, too, her nurse, Assunta, would bring
her to my hotel to pass an hour or so with me. This was
a great treat to her, and her delight reached its climax when
I took her on my knee and told her a fairy story — her favor-
ite one being that of a good little girl whose papa suddenly
went away, and how the little girl grieved for him till at last
some kind fairies helped her to find him again. I was at
first somewhat afraid of old Assunta — she had been my nurse
— was it possible that she would not recognize me ? The
first time 1 met her in my new character I almost held my
breath in a sort of suspense — but the good old woman was
nearly blind, and I think she could scarce make out my
lineaments. She was of an entirely different nature to
Giacomo the butler — she thoroughly believed her master to
be dead, as indeed she had every reason to do, but strange
to say, Giacoma did not. The old man had a fanatical notion
that his " young lord " could not have died so suddenly, and
he grew so obstinate on the point that my wife declared he
must be going crazy. Assunta, on the other hand, would talk
volubly of my death and tell me with assured earnestness :

" It was to be expected, eccellenza — he was too good for
us, and the saints took him. Of course our Lady wanted
him — she always picks out the best among us. The poor
Giacomo will not listen to me, he grows weak and childish,
and he loved the master too well — better," and here her
voice would deepen into reproachful solemnity, " yes, better
actually than St. Joseph himself ! And of course one is
punished for such a thing. I always knew my master would
die young — he was too gentle as a baby, and too kind-hearted
as a man to stay here long."

And she would shake her gray head and feel for the beads
of her rosary, and mutter many an Ave for the repose of
my soul. Much as I wished it, I could never get her to talk
about her mistress — it was the one subject on which she was
invariably silent. On one occasion when I spoke with ap-
parent enthusiasm of the beauty and accomplishments of the
young countess, she glanced at me with sudden and earnest
scrutiny — sighed — but said nothing. I was glad to see how
thoroughly devoted she was to Stella, and the child returned
her affection with interest — though as the November days
came on apace, my little one looked far from 5trong. She

VENDETTA!

'43

paled and grew thin, her eyes looked preternaturally large
and solemn, and she was very easily wearied. I called As-
sunta's attention to these signs of ill-health ; she replied that
she had spoken to the countess, but that " madam " had
taken no notice of the child's weakly condition. Afterward
I mentioned the matter myself to Nina, who merely smiled
gratefully up in my face and answered :

" Really, my dear conte, you are too good ! There is noth-
ing the matter with Stella, her health is excellent; she eats
too many bombons, perhaps, and is growing rather fast, that
is all. How kind you are to think of her ! But, I assure you,
she is quite well."

I did not feel so sure of this, yet I was obliged to conceal
my anxiety, as overmuch concern about the child would not
have been in keeping with my assumed character.

It was a little past the middle of November, when a circum-
stance occurred that gave impetus to my plans, and hurried
them to full fruition. The days were growing chilly and sad
even in Naples — yachting excursions were over, and I was
beginning to organize a few dinners and balls for the approach-
ing winter season, when one afternoon Ferrari entered my
room, unannounced and threw himself into the nearest chair
with an impatient exclamation, and a vexed expression of
countenance.

"What is the matter?" I asked, carelessly, as I caught a
furtive glance of his eyes. " Anything financial ? Pray draw
upon me ! I will be a most accommodating banker ! "

He smiled uneasily though gratefully.

" Thanks, conte — but it is nothing of that sort — it is — gran
Dio / what an unlucky wretch I am ! "

" I hope," and here I put on an expression of the deepest
anxiety, " I hope the pretty contessa has not played you
false ? she has refused to marry you ? "

He laughed with a disdainful triumph in his laughter.

" Oh, as far as that goes there is no danger ! She dares
not play me false."

" Dares not ! That is rather a strong expression, my
friend ! " And I stroked my beard and looked at him
steadily. He himself seemed to think he had spoken too
openly and hastily — for he reddened as he said with a little
embarassment :

" Well, I did not mean that exactly — of course she is per-
fectly free to do as she likes — but she cannot, I think, refuse
me after showing me so much encouragement."

144

I waved my hand with an airy gesture of amicable agree-
ment.

"Certainly not," I said, "unless she be an arrant coquette
and therefore a worthless woman •, and you, who know so well
her intrinsic goodness and purity, have no reason to fear.
But, if not love or money, what is it that troubles you? It
must be serious, to judge from your face."

He played absently with a ring I had given him, turning it
round and round upon his finger many times before reply-
ing.

"Well, the fact is," he said at last, " I am compelled to go
away — to leave Naples for a time."

My heart gave an expectant throb of satisfaction. Going
away ! — leaving Naples ! — turning away from the field of
battle and allowing me to gain the victory ! Fortune surely
favored me. But I answered with feigned concern :

"Going a way! Surely you cannot mean it. Why? — what
for ? and where ? "

" An uncle of mine is dying in Rome," he answered, cross-
ly. " He has made me his heir, and I am bound for the sake
of decency to attend his last moments. Rather protracted last
moments they threaten to be too, but the lawyers say I had
better be present, as the old man may take it into his head
to disinherit me at the final gasp. I suppose I shall not be
absent long — a fortnight at most — and in the meanwhile "

Here he hesitated and looked at me anxiously.

" Continue, caro mio, continue ! " I said with some impa-
tience. " If I can do anything in your absence, you have
only to command me."

He rose from his chair, and approaching the window where
I sat in a half-reclining position, he drew a small chair oppo-
site mine, and sitting down, laid one hand confidingly on my
wrist.

"You can do much ! " he replied, earnestly, "and I feel
that I can thoroughly depend upon you. Watch over her)
She will have no other protector, and she is so beautiful an<i
careless! You can guard her — your age, your rank and posi-
tion, the fact of your being an old friend of the family — all
these things warrant your censorship and vigilance over her,
and you can prevent any other man from intruding himself
upon her notice "

" If he does," I exclaimed, starting up from my seat with
a mock tragic air, " 1 'will not rest till his body serves my sword
as a sheath!"

VENDETTA I 145

And I laughed loudly, clapping him on the shoulder as I
spoke. The words were the very same he had himself uttered
when I had witnessed his interview with my wife in the
avenue. He seemed to find something familiar in the phrase,
for he looked confused and puzzled. Seeing this, I hastened
to turn the current of his reflections. Stopping abruptly
in my mirth, I assumed a serious gravity of demeanor, and
said :

'•' Nay, nay ! I see the subject is too sacred to be jested with
— pardon my levity ! I assure you, my good Ferrari, I will
watch over the lady with the jealous scrutiny of a brother — an
elderly brother too, and therefore one more likely to be a model
of propriety. Though I frankly admit it is a task I am not
specially fitted for, and one that is rather distasteful to me,
still, I would do much to please you, and enable you to leave
Naples with an easy mind. I promise you " — here I took his
hand and shook it warmly—" that I will be worthy of your
trust and true to it, with exactly the same fine loyalty and
fidelity you yourself so nobly showed to your dead friend
Fabio ! History cannot furnish me with a better ex-
ample ! "

He started as if he had been stung, and every drop of
blood receded from his face, leaving it almost livid. He
turned his eyes in a kind of wondering doubt upon me, but
I counterfeited an air of such good faith and frankness, that
he checked some hasty utterance that rose to his lips, and
mastering himself by a strong effort, said, briefly :

" I thank you ! I know I can rely upon your honor."

" You can ! " I answered, decisively — " as positively as
you rely upon your own ! " Again he winced, as though
whipped smartly by an invisible lash. Releasing his hand, I
asked, in a tone of affected regret :

" And when must you leave us, carino ? "

" Most unhappily, at once," he answered. " I start by the
early train to-morrow morning."

" Well, I am glad I knew of this in time," I said, glancing
at my writing-table, which was strewn with unsent invitation
cards, and estimates from decorators and ball furnishers. " I
shall not think of starting any more gayeties till you return."

He looked gratefully at me. " Really ? It is very kind
of you, but I should be sorry to interfere with any of your
plans "

" Say no more about it, amico " I interrupted him lightly.
" Everything can wait till you come back. Besides, I am
10

146 VENDETTA!

sure you will prefer to think of madama as living in some
sort of seclusion during your enforced absence "

" I should not like her to be dull ! " he eagerly exclaimed.

" Oh, no ! " I said, with a slight smile at his folly, as if she
— Nina ! — would permit herself to be dull ! " I will take
care of that. Little distractions, such as a drive now and
then, or a very quiet, select musical evening ! I understand
— leave it all to me ! But the dances, dinners, and other
diversions shall wait till your return."

A delighted look flashed into his eyes. He was greatly
flattered and pleased.

" You are uncommonly good to me, conte ! " he said, ear-
nestly. " I can never thank you sufficiently."

" I shall demand a proof of your gratitude some day," I
answered. " And now, had you not better be packing your
portmanteau ? To-morrow will soon be here. I will come
and see you off in the morning."

Receiving this assurance as another testimony of my friend-
ship, he left me. I saw him no more that day ; it was easy
to guess where he was ! With my wife, of course ! — no doubt
binding her, by all the most sacred vows he could think of
or invent, to be true to him — as true as she had been false
to me. In fancy I could see him clasping her in his arms,
and kissing her many times in his passionate fervor, implor-
ing her to think of him faithfully, night and day, till he
should again return to the joy of her caresses ! I smiled
coldly, as this glowing picture came before my imagination.
Ay, Guido ! kiss her and fondle her now to your heart's con-
tent— // is for the last time / Never again will that witching
glance be turned to you in either fear or favor — never again
will that fair body nestle in your jealous embrace — never
again will your kisses burn on that curved sweet mouth ;
never, never again ! Your day is done — the last brief mo-
ments of your sin's enjoyment have come — make the most of
them ! — no one shall interfere ! Drink the last drop of sweet
wine — my hand shall not dash the cup from your lips on this,
the final night of your amour ! Traitor, liar, and hypocrite !
make haste to be happy for the short time that yet remains
to you — shut the door close, lest the pure pale stars behold
your love ecstasies ! but let the perfumed lamps shed their
softest artificial luster on all that radiant beauty which
tempted your sensual soul to ruin, and of which you are now
permitted to take your last look ! Let there be music too —
the music of her voice, which murmurs in your ear such en*

VENDETTA ! 147

trancing falsehoods ! " She will be true," she says. You
must believe her, Guido, as I did — and, believing her thus,
part from her as lingeringly and tenderly as you will — part
from her — forever I

CHAPTER XVII.

NEXT morning I kept my appointment and met Ferrari at
the railway station. He looked pale and haggard, though he
brightened a little on seeing me. He was curiously irritable
and fussy with the porters concerning his luggage, and
argued with them about some petty trifles as obstinately and
pertinaciously as a deaf old woman. His nerves were evi-
dently jarred and unstrung, and it was a relief when he at
last got into his coupe*. He carried a yellow paper-covered
volume in his hand. I asked him if it contained any amus-
ing reading.

" I really do not know," he answered, indifferently, " I
have only just bought it. It is by Victor Hugo."

And he held up the title-page for me to see.

"Le Dernier Jour d'un Condamne," I read aloud with
careful slowness. " Ah, indeed 1 You do well to read that.
It is a very fine study ! "

The train was on the point of starting, when he leaned out
of the carriage window and beckoned me to approach more
closely.

" Remember ! " he whispered, " I trust you to take care of
her ! "

" Never fear ! " I answered, " I will do my best to replace
you!"

He smiled a pale uneasy smile, and pressed my hand.
These were our last words, for with a warning shriek the
train moved off, and in another minute had rushed out of
sight. I was alone — alone with perfect freedom of action —
I could do as I pleased with my wife now ! I could even
kill her if I chose — no one would interfere. I could visit
her that evening and declare myself to her — could accuse
her of her infidelity and stab her to the heart ! Any Italian
jury would find " extenuating circumstances " for me. But
why ? Why should I lay myself open to a charge of murder,
even for a just cause ? No 1 my original design was perfect,
and I must keep to it and work it out with patience, though
patience was difficult. While I thus meditated, walking from

148 VENDETTA!

the station homeward, I was startled by the unexpected ap-
pearance of my valet, who came upon me quite suddenly.
He was out of breath with running, and he carried a note
for me marked " Immediate." It was from my wife, and ran
briefly thus :

" Please come at once. Stella is very ill, and asks for you."

" Who brought this ? " I demanded, quickening my pace,
and signing to Vincenzo to keep beside me.

" The old man, eccellenza — Giacomo. He was weeping
and in great trouble — he said the little donzella had the
fever in her throat — it is the diphtheria he means, I think.
She was taken ill in the middle of the night, but the nurse
thought it was nothing serious. This morning she has been
getting worse, and is in danger."

" A doctor has been sent for, of course ? "

" Yes, eccellenza. So Giacomo said. But "

" But what ? " I asked, quickly.

" Nothing, eccellenza ! Only the old man said the doctor
had come too late."

My heart sunk heavily, and a sob rose in my throat. I
stopped in my rapid walk and bade Vincenzo call a carriage,
one of the ordinary vehicles that are everywhere standing
about for hire in the principal thoroughfares of Naples. I
sprung into this and told the driver to take me as quickly as
possible to the Villa Romani, and adding to Vincenzo that I
should not return to the hotel all day, I was soon rattling
along the uphill road. On my arrival at the villa I found the
gates open, as though in expectation of my visit, and as I
approached the entrance door of the house, Giacomo himself
met me.

" How is the child ? " I asked him eagerly.

He made no reply, but shook his head gravely, and pointed
to a kindly looking man who was at that moment descend-
ing the stairs — a man whom I instantly recognized as a
celebrated English doctor resident in the neighborhood. To
him I repeated my inquiry — he beckoned me into a side
room and closed the door.

" The fact is," he said, simply, " it is a case of gross neg-
lect- The child has evidently been in a weakly condition
for some time past, and therefore is an easy prey to any
disease that maybe lurking about. She was naturally strong
— I can see that — and had I been called in when the symp-
toms first developed themselves, I could have cured her.

VENDETTA!

'49

The nurse tells me she dared not enter the mother's room
to disturb her after midnight, otherwise she would have
called her to see the child — it is unfortunate, for now I can
do nothing."

I listened like one in a dream. Not even old Assunta
dared to enter her mistress's room after midnight — no ! not
though the child might be seriously ill and suffering. I
knew the reason well — too well ! And so while Ferrari had
taken his fill of rapturous embraces and lingering farewells,
my little one had been allowed to struggle in pain and fever
without her mother's care or comfort. Not that such con-
solation would have been much at its best, but I was fool
enough to wish there had been this one faint spark of
womanhood left in her upon whom. I had wasted all the first
and only love of my life. The doctor watched me as I re-
mained silent, and after a pause he spoke again.

" The child has earnestly asked to see you," he said, " and
I persuaded the countess to send for you, though she was
very reluctant to do so, as she said you might catch the
disease. Of course there is always a risk "

" I am no coward, monsieur," I interrupted him, " though
many of us Italians prove but miserable panic-stricken
wretches in time of plague — the more especially when com-
pared with the intrepidity and pluck of Englishmen. Still
there are exceptions

The doctor smiled courteously and bowed. "Then I have
no more to say, except that it would be well for you to see my
little patient at once. I am compelled to be absent for half
an hour, but at the expiration of that time I will return."

" Stay ! " I said, laying a detaining hand on his arm. " Is
there any hope ? "

He eyed me gravely. " I fear not."

" Can nothing be done ? "

" Nothing — except to keep her as quiet and warm as possi-
ble. I have left some medicine with the nurse which will
alleviate the pain. I shall be able to judge of her better
when I return ; the illness will have then reached its crisis."
In a couple of minutes more he had left the house, and a
young maid-servant showed me to the nursery.

" Where is the contessa ? " I asked in a whisper, as I
trod softly up the stairs.

" The contessa ? " said the girl, opening her eyes in aston-
ishment. " In her own bedroom, eccellenza — maclama would
pot think of Jeaving it •, because of the danger of infection."

150 VENDETTA I

I smothered a rough oath that rose involuntarily to my
lips. Another proof of the woman's utter heartlessness, I
thought !

" Has she not seen her child ? "

" Since the illness ? Oh, no, eccellenza !"

Very gently and on tiptoe I entered the nursery. The
blinds were partially drawn as the strong light worried the
child, and by the little white bed sat Assunta, her brown
face pale and almost rigid with anxiety. At my approach
she raised her eyes to mine, muttering softly :

" It is always so. Our Lady will have the best of all, first
the father, then the child ; it is right and just — only the bad
are left."

" Papa ! " moaned a little voice feebly, and Stella sat
up among her tumbled pillows, with wide-opened wild eyes,
/everish cheeks, and parted lips through which the breath
came in quick, uneasy gasps. Shocked at the marks of
intense suffering in her face, I put my arms tenderly round
her — she smiled faintly and tried to kiss me. I pressed the
poor parched little mouth and murmured, soothingly :

" Stella must be patient and quiet — Stella must lie down,
the pain will be better so ; there ! that is right ! " as the
child sunk back on her bed obediently, still keeping her
gaze fixed upon me. I knelt at the bedside, and watched
her yearningly — while Assunta moistened her lips, and did
all she could to ease the pain endured so meekly by the
poor little thing whose breathing grew quicker and fainter
with every tick of the clock. " You are my papa, are you
not ? " she asked, a deeper flush crossing her forehead and
cheeks. I made no answer — I only kissed the small hot
hand I held. Assunta shook her head.

" Ah, poverinttta ! The time is near — she sees her father.
And why not ? He loved her well — he would come to fetch
her for certain if the saints would let him."

And sjie fell on her knees and began to tell over her
rosary with great devotion. Meanwhile Stella threw one
little arm round my neck — her eyes were half shut — she
spoke and breathed with increasing difficulty.

" My throat aches so, papa ! " she said, pitifully. " Can
you not make it better ? "

" I wish I could, my darling ! " I murmured. " I would
bear all the pain for you if it were possible ! "

She was silent a minute. Then she said :

" What a long time you have been away ! And now I am

VENDETTA! 151

too ill to play with you ! " Then a faint smile crossed her
features. " See poor To-to ! " she exclaimed, feebly, as her
eyes fell on a battered old doll in the spangled dress of a
carnival clown that lay at the foot of her bed. " Poor dear
old To-to! He will think I do not love him any more>
because my throat hurts me. Give him to me, papa ! "

And as I obeyed her request she encircled the doll with
one arm, while she still clung to me with the other, and
added :

" To-to remembers you, papa ; you know you brought him
from Rome, and he is fond of you, too — but not as fond as I
am ! " And her dark eyes glittered feverishly. Suddenly
her glance fell on Assunta, whose gray head was buried in
her hands as she knelt.

" Assunta ! "

The old woman looked up.

" Bambinetta ! " she answered, and her aged voice trembled.

" Why are you crying ? " inquired Stella with an air of
plaintive surprise. " Are you not glad to see papa ? "

Her words were interrupted by a sharp spasm of pain
which convulsed her whole body — she gasped for breath —
she was nearly suffocated. Assunta and I raised her up
gently and supported her against her pillows ; the agony
passed slowly, but left her little face white and rigid, while
large drops of sweat gathered on her brow. I endeavored
to soothe her.

" Darling, you must not talk," I whispered, imploringly; " try
to be very still — then the poor throat will not ache so much."

She looked at me wistfully. After a minute or two she
said, gently :

" Kiss me, then, and I will be quite good."

I kissed her fondly, and she closed her eyes. Ten, twenty,
thirty minutes passed and she did not stir. At the end of
that time the doctor entered. He glanced at her, gave me a
warning look, and remained standing quietly at the foot of
the bed. Suddenly the child woke, and smiled divinely on
all three of us.

" Are you in pain, my dear ? " I softly asked.

" No ! " she answered in a tiny voice, so faint and far
away that we held our breath to listen to it ; "I am quite
well now. Assunta must dress me in my white frock again
now papa is here. I knew he would come back ! "

And she turned her eyes upon me with a look of bright
intelligence.

152 VENDETTA!

11 Her brain wanders," said the doctor, in a low, pitying
voice ; " it will soon be over."

Stella did not hear him; she turned and nestled in my
arms, asking in a sort of babbling whisper:

" You did not go away because I was naughty, did you,
papa ? "

" No darling ! " I answered, hiding my face in her curls.

" Why do you have those ugly black things on ? " she
asked, in the feeblest and most plaintive tone imaginable, so
weak that I myself could scarcely hear it ; " has somebody
hurt your eyes ? Let me see your eyes ! " I hesitated.
Dare I humor her in her fancy ? I glanced up. The doctor's
head again was turned away, Assunta was on her knees, her
face buried in the bed-clothes, praying to her saints -, quick
as thought I slipped my spectacles slightly down, and looked
over them full at my little one. She uttered a soft cry of
delight — " Papa ! papa ! " and stretched out her arms, then
a strong and terrible shudder shook her little frame. The
doctor came closer — I replaced my glasses without my action
being noticed, and we both bent anxiously over the suffering
child. Her face paled and grew livid — she made another
effort to speak — her beautiful eyes rolled upward and became
fixed — she sighed — and sunk back on my shoulder — dying —
dead ! My poor little one ! A hard sob stifled itself in my
throat — I clasped the small lifeless body close in my embrace,
and my tears fell hot and fast. There was a long silence in
the room — a deep, an awe-struck, reverent silence, while the
Angel of Death, noiselessly entering and departing, gathered
my little white rose for his Immortal garden of flowers.

CHAPTER XVIII.

AFTER some little time the doctor's genial voice, slightly
tremulous from kindly emotion, roused me from my grief-
stricken attitude.

" Monsieur, permit me to persuade you to come away.
Poor little child ! she is free from pain now. Her fancy that
you were her father was a fortunate delusion for her. It
made her last moments happy. Pray come with me — I can
see this has been a shock to your feelings."

Reverently I laid the fragile corpse back on the yet warm
pillows. With a fond touch I stroked the flaxen head ; X

VENDETTA! 153

closed the dark, upturned, and glazing eyes— I kissed the
waxen cheeks and lips, and folded the tiny hands in an atti-
tude of prayer. There was a grave smile on the young dead
face — a smile of superior wisdom and sweetness, majestic
in its simplicity. Assunta rose from her knees and laid her
crucifix on the little breast — the tears were running down her
worn and withered countenance. As she strove to wipe them
away with her apron, she said tremblingly : —

" It must be told to madama." A frown came on the doc-
tor's face. He was evidently a true Britisher, decisive in his
opinions, and frank enough to declare them openly. " Yes,"
he said, curtly, " Madama, as you call her, should have been
here."

" The little angel did not once ask for her," murmured
Assunta.

" True ! " he answered. And again there was silence.
We stood round the small bed, looking at the empty casket
that had held the lost jewel — the flawless pearl of innocent
childhood that had gone, according to a graceful superstition,
to ornament the festal robes of the Madonna as she walked
in all her majesty through heaven. A profound grief was at
my heart — mingled with a sense of mysterious and awful
satisfaction. I felt, not as though I had lost my child, but
had rather gained her to be more entirely mine than ever.
She seemed nearer to me dead than she had been when liv-
ing. Who could say what her future might have been ? She
would have grown to womanhood — what then ? What is the
usual fate that falls to even the best woman ? Sorrow, pain,
and petty worry, unsatisfied longings, incompleted aims, the
disappointment of an imperfect and fettered life — for say
what you will to the contrary, woman's inferiority to man, her
physical weakness, her inability to accomplish any great thing
for the welfare of the world in which she lives, will always
make her more or less an object of pity. If good, she needs
all the tenderness, support, and chivalrous guidance of her
master, man — if bad, she merits what she receives, his pitiless
disdain and measureless contempt. From all dangers and
griefs of the kind my Stella had escaped — for her, sorrow no
longer existed. I was glad of it, I thought, as I watched
Assunta shutting the blinds close, as a signal to outsiders
that death was in the house. At a sign from the doctor I
followed him out of the room — on the stairs he turned round
abruptly, and asked :

tell the countess? "

154 VENDETTA!

"I would rather be excused," I replied, decisively. "I
am not at all in the humor for a scene."

"You think she will make a scene? "he said with an
astonished uplifting of his eyebrows. " I dare say you are
right though ! She is an excellent actress."

By this time we had reached the foot of the stairs.

" She is very beautiful," I answered evasively.

"Oh, very! No doubt of that!'' And here a strange
frown contracted the doctor's brow. " For my own taste, I
prefer an ugly woman to such beauty."

And with these words he left me, disappearing down the
passage which led to " madama's "' boudoir. Left alone, I
paced up and down the drawing-room, gazing abstractedly
on its costly fittings, its many luxurious knickknacks and
elegancies — most of which I had given to my wife during
the first few months of our marriage. By and by I heard
the sound of violent hysterical sobbing, accompanied by the
noise of hurrying footsteps and the rapid whisking about of
female garments. In a few moments the doctor entered
with an expression of sardonic amusement on his face.
"Yes !" he said in reply to my look of inquiry, " hysterics,
lace handkerchiefs, eau-de-Cologne, and attempts at fainting.
All very well done ! I have assured the lady there is no
fear of contagion, as under my orders everything will be
thoroughly disinfected. I shall go now. Oh, by the way,
the countess requests that you will wait here a few minutes —
she has a message for you — she will not detain you long. 1
should recommend you to get back to your hotel as soon as
you can, and take some good wine. A rivederci / Anything
I can do for you pray command me ! "

And with a cordial shake of the hand he left me, and I
heard the street door close behind him. Again I paced
wearily up and down, wrapped in sorrowful musings. I did
not hear a stealthy tread on the carpet behind me, so that
when I turned round abruptly, I was startled to find myself
face to face with old Giacomo, who held out a note to me on a
silver salver, and who meanwhile peered at me with his eager
eyes in so inquisitive a manner that I felt almost uneasy.

" And so the little angel is dead! " he murmured in a thin,
quavering voice. " Dead ! Ay, that is a pity, a pity ! But
my master is not dead — no, no ! I am not such an old fool
as to believe that."

I paid no heed to his rambling talk, but read the message
Nina had sent to me through him.

VENDETTA ! 15$

"I am broken-hearted!" so ran the delicately penciled
lines. " Will you kindly telegraph my dreadful loss to Signer
Ferrari ? I shall be much obliged to you." I looked up
from the perfumed missive and down at the old butler's
wrinkled visage ; he was a short man and much bent, and
something in the downward glance I gave him evidently
caught and riveted his attention, for he clasped his hands
together and muttered something I could not hear.

" Tell your mistress,'' I said, speaking slowly and harshly,
" that I will do as she wishes. That I am entirely at her
service. Do you understand ? "

" Yes, yes ! I understand ! " faltered Giacomo, nervously.
" My master never thought me foolish — I could always under-
stand him "

" Do you know, my friend," I observed, in a purposely
cold and cutting tone, " that I have heard somewhat too
much about your master ? The subject is tiresome to me !
Were your master alive, he would say you were in your dotage !
Take my message to the countess at once."

The old man;s face paled and his lips quivered — he made
an attempt to draw up his shrunken figure with a sort of
dignity as he answered •

" Eccellenza, my master would never speak to me so —
never, never ! " Then his countenance fell, and he muttered,
softly — " Though it is just — I am a fool — I am mistaken —
quite mistaken — there is no resemblance ! " After a little
pause he added, humbly, " I will take your message, eccel-
lenza." And stooping more than ever, he shambled out of
the room. My heart smote me as he disappeared ; I had
spoken very harshly to the poor old fellow — but I instinctively
felt that it was necessary to do so. His close and ceaseless
examination of me — his timidity when he approached me —
the strange tremors he experienced when I addressed him,
were so many warnings to me to be on my guard with this
devoted domestic. Were he, by some unforeseen chance,
to recognize me, my plans would all be spoiled. I took my
hat and left the house. As I crossed the upper terrace, I
saw a small round object lying in the grass — it was Stella's
ball that she used to throw for Wyvis to catch and bring to
her. I picked up the poor plaything tenderly and put it in
my pocket — and glancing up once more at the darkened
nursery windows, I waved a kiss of farewell to my little one
lying there in her last sleep. Then fiercely controlling all
the weaker and softer emotions that threatened to overwhelm

156 VENDETTA!

me, I hurried away. On my road to the hotel I stopped at
the telegraph-office and dispatched the news of Stella's death
to Guido Ferrari in Rome. He would be surprised, 1 thought,
but certainly not grieved — the poor child had always been
in his way. Would he come back to Naples to console the
now childless widow? Not he ! — he would know well that
she stood in very small need of consolation — and that she
took Stella's death as she had taken mine — as a blessing,
and not a bereavement. On reaching my own rooms, I gave
orders to Vincenzo that I was not at home to any one who
might call — and I passed the rest of the day in absolute
solitude. I had much to think of. The last frail tie between
my wife and myself had been snapped asunder — the child,
the one innocent link in the long chain of falsehood and
deception, no longer existed. Was I glad or sorry for this ?
I asked myself the question a hundred times; and I admitted
the truth, though I trembled to realize it. I was glad — yes
— glad I Glad that my own child was dead ! You call this
inhuman perhaps ? Why ? She was bound to have been
miserable ; she was now happy !

The tragedy of her parents' lives could be enacted without
imbittering and darkening her young days ; she was out of it
all, and I rejoiced to know it. For I was absolutely relent-
less ; had my little Stella lived, not even for her sake would
I have relaxed in one detail of my vengeance — nothing
seemed to me so paramount as the necessity for restoring
my own self-respect and damaged honor. In England I
know these things are managed by the Divorce Court.
Lawyers are paid exorbitant fees, and the names of the guilty
and innocent are dragged through the revolting slums of the
Jow London press. It may be an excellent method — but it
does not tend to elevate a man in his own eyes, and it cer-
tainly does not do much to restore his lost dignity. It has
one advantage — it enables the criminal parties to have their
way without further interference — the wronged husband is
set free — left out in the cold — and laughed at by those who
wronged him. An admirable arrangement no doubt — but
one that would not suit me. Chacun a son goiit / It would
be curious to know in matters of this kind whether divorced
persons are really satisfied when they have got their divorce
— whether the amount of red tape and parchment expended
in their interest has done them good and really relieved their
feelings. Whether, for instance, the betrayed husband is
|lad to have got rid of his unfaithful wife by throwing her

VENDETTA! 157

(with the full authority and permission of the law) into his
rival's arms ? I almost doubt it ! I heard of a strange case
in England once. A man, moving in good society, having
more than suspicions of his wife's fidelity, divorced her — the
law pronounced her guilty. Some years afterward, he being
free, met her again, fell in love with her for the second time
and remarried her. She was (naturally !) delighted at his
making such a fool of himself — for henceforth, whatever she
chose to do, he could not reasonably complain without run-
ning the risk of being laughed at. So now the number and
variety of her lovers is notorious in the particular social
circle where she moves — while he, poor wretch, is perforce
tongue-tied, and dare not consider himself wronged. There
is no more pitiable object in the world than such a man —
secretly derided and jeered at by his fellows, he occupies
an almost worse position than that of a galley slave, while in
his own esteem he has sunk so low that he dare not, even in
secret, try to fathom the depth to which he has fallen. Some
may assert that to be divorced is a social stigma. It used to
be so perhaps, but society has grown very lenient nowadays
Divorced women hold their own in the best and most bril-
liant circles, and what is strange is that they are very gener-
ally petted and pitied.

" Poor thing ! " says society, putting up its eyeglass to
scan admiringly the beautiful heroine of the latest aristocratic
scandal — "she had such a brute of a husband ! No wonder
she liked that dear Lord So-and-So ! Very wrong of her, of
course, bui she is so young ! She was married at sixteen —
quite a child ! — could not have known her own mind ! "

The husband alluded to might have been the best and
most chivalrous of men — anything but a " brute " — yet he
always figures as such somehow, and gets no sympathy.
And,' by the way, it is rather a notable fact that all the
beautiful, famous, or notorious women were " married at
sixteen" How is this managed ? I can account for it in
southern climates, where girls are full-grown at sixteen and
old at thirty — but I cannot understand its being the case in
England, where a " miss " of sixteen is a most objectionable
and awkward ingenue, without any of the " charms wherewith
to charm," and whose conversation is always vapid and
silly to the point of absolute exhaustion on the part of those
who are forced to listen to it. These sixteen-year-old mar-
riages are, however, the only explanation frisky English
matrons can give for having such alaimingly prolific families

158 VENDETTA!

of tall sons and daughters, and it is a happy and convenient
excuse — one that provides a satisfactory reason for the exces-
sive painting of their faces and dyeing of their hair. Being
young (as they so nobly assert), they wish to look even
younger. A la bonne heure f If men cannot see through
the delicate fiction, they have only themselves to blame. As
for me, I believe in the old, old, apparently foolish legend of
Adam and Eve's sin and the curse which followed it — the
curse on man is inevitably carried out to this day. God
said :

"Because" (mark that because!') " thou hast hearkened
unto the voice of thy wife " (or thy woman, whoever she be),
" and hast eaten of the tree of which I commanded thee,
saying, Thou shalt not eat of it " (the tree or fruit being the
evil suggested first to man by woman), " cursed is the ground
for thy sake ; in sorrow shalt thou eat of it all the days of
thy life ! "

True enough ! The curse is upon all who trust woma»
too far — the sorrow upon all who are beguiled by her witch-
ing flatteries. Of what avail her poor excuse in the ancient
story — " The serpent beguiled me and I did eat ! " Had she
never listened she could not have been beguiled. The
weakness, the treachery, was in herself, and is there still.
Through everything the bitterness of it runs. The woman
tempts — the man yields — and the gate of Eden — the Eden
of a clear conscience and an untrammeled soul, is shut upon
them. Forever and ever the Divine denunciation re-echoes
like muttering thunder through the clouds of passing gener-
ations; forever and ever we unconsciously carry it out in
our own lives to its full extent till the heart grows sick and
the brain weary, and we long for the end of it all, which is
death — death, that mysterious silence and darkness at which
we sometimes shudder, wondering vaguely — Can it be worse
than life ?

CHAPTER XIX.

MORE than ten days had passed since Stella's death. Her
mother had asked me to see to the arrangements for the
child's funeral, declaring herself too ill to attend to any-
thing. I was glad enough to accede to her request, for I was
thus able to avoid the Romani vault as a place of interment.
J could not bear to think of the little cherished body being

VENDETTA f 159

laid to molder in that terrific place where I had endured
such frantic horrors. Therefore, informing all whom it con-
cerned that I acted under the countess's orders, I chose a
pretty spot in the open ground of the cemetery, close to the
tree where I had heard the nightingale singing in my hour
of supreme misery and suffering. Here my little one was
laid tenderly to rest in warm mother-earth, and I had sweet
violets and primroses planted thickly all about the place,
while on the simple white marble cross that marked the spot
I had the words engraved —

" Una Stella svanita," *

adding the names of her parents and the date of her birth
and death. Since all this had been done I had visited
my wife several times, She was always at home to me,
though of course, for decency's sake, in consequence of the
child's death, she denied herself to everybody else. She
looked lovelier than ever ; the air of delicate languor she as-
sumed suited her as perfectly as its fragile whiteness suits
a hot-house lily. She knew the power of her own beauty
most thoroughly, and employed it in arduous efforts to fasci-
nate me. But I had changed my tactics ; I paid very little
heed to her, and never went to see her unless she asked me
very pressingly to do so. All compliments and attentions
from me to her had ceased. She courted me, and I accepted
her courtship in unresponsive silence. I played the part ot
a taciturn and reserved man, who preferred reading some
ancient and abstruse treatise on metaphysics to even the
charms of her society — and often, when she urgently desired
my company, I would sit in her drawing-room, turning over
the leaves of a book and feigning to be absorbed in it, while
she, from her velvety~tf#&v///, would look at me with a pretty
pensiveness made up half of respect, half of gentle admira-
tion— a capitally acted facial expression, by the bye, and
one that would do credit to Sarah Bernhardt. We had both
heard from Guido Ferrari ,- his letter to my wife I of course
did not see ; she had, however, told me he was " much
shocked and distressed to hear of Stella's death." The
epistle he addressed to me had a different tale to tell. In it
he wrote — " You can understand, my dear conte, that I am
not much grieved to hear of the death of Fabio's child. Had
she lived, I confess her presence would have been a per-
petual reminder to me of things I prefer to forget. She

* A vanished star.

j6o VENDETTA!

never liked me — she might have been a great source of
trouble and inconvenience ; so, on the whole, I am glad she
is out of the way."

Further on in the letter he informed me :

" My uncle is at death's door, but though that door stands
wide open for him, he cannot make up his mind to go in.
His hesitation will not be allowed to last, so the doctors tell
me — at any rate I fervently hope I shall not be kept waiting
too long, otherwise I shall return to Naples and sacrifice my
heritage, for I am restless and unhappy away from Nina,
though I know she is safely guarded by your protecting care."

I read this particular paragraph to my wife, watching her
closely as I slowly enunciated the words contained in it.
She listened, and a vivid blush crimsoned her cheeks — a
blush of indignation — and her brows contracted in the vexed
frown I knew so well. Her lips parted in a half-sweet, half-
chilly smile as she said, quietly :

" I owe you my thanks, conte, for showing me to what ex-
tent Signer Ferrari's impertinence may reach. I am sur-
prised at his writing to you in such a manner ! The fact is,
my late husband's attachment for him was so extreme that he
now presumes upon a supposed right that he has over me —
he fancies I am really his sister, and that he can tyrannize, as
brothers sometimes do ! I really regret I have been so patient
with him — I have allowed him too much liberty."

True enough ! I thought and smiled bitterly. I was now
in the heat of the game — the moves must be played quickly
— there was no more time for hesitation or reflection.

" I think, madam," I said, deliberately, as I folded Guido's
letter and replaced it in my pocket-book, " Signor Ferrari
ardently aspires to be something more than a brother to you
at no very distant date."

Oh, the splendid hypocrisy of women ! No wonder they
make such excellent puppets on the theatrical stage — acting
is their natural existence, sham their breath of life ! This
creature showed no sign of embarrassment — she raised her
eyes frankly to mine in apparent surprise — then she gave a
little low laugh of disdain.

" Indeed ! " she said. " Then I fear Signor Ferrari is
doomed to have his aspirations disappointed ! My dear
conte," and here she rose and swept softly across the room
toward me with that graceful gliding step that somehow
always reminded me of the approach of a panther, " do you
really mean to tell me that his audacity has reached such a

VENDETTA I 161

height that — really it is too absurd ! — that he hopes to marry
me ? " And sinking into a chair near mine she looked at me
in calm inquiry. Lost in amazement at the duplicity of the
woman, I answered, briefly :

" I believe so ! He intimated as much to me."

She smiled scornfully.

" I am too much honored ! And did you, conte, think for
a moment that such an arrangement would meet with my
approval ? "

I was silent. My brain was confused — I found it difficult
to meet with and confront such treachery as this. What !
-Had she no conscience? Were all the passionate embraces,
the lingering kisses, the vows of fidelity, and words of caress-
ing endearment as naught ? Were they all blotted from her
memory as the writing on a slate is wiped out by a sponge !
Almost I pitied Guido ! His fate, in her hands, was evi-
dently to be the same as mine had been ; yet after all, why
should I be surprised ? why should I pity ? Had I not cal-
culated it all ? and was it not part of my vengeance ?

" Tell me ! " pursued my wife's dulcet voice, breaking in
upon my reflections, " did you really imagine Signer Ferrari's
suit might meet with favor at my hands ? "

I must speak — the comedy had to be played out. So I
answered, bluntly :

" Madam, I certainly did think so. It seemed a natural
conclusion to draw from the course of events. He is young,
undeniably handsome, and on his uncle's death will be fairly
wealthy — what more could you desire ? besides, he was your
husband's friend "

" And for that reason I would never marry him ! " she in-
terrupted me with a decided gesture. " Even if I liked him
sufficiently, which I do not" (oh, miserable traitress), "I
would not run the risk of what the world would say of such
a marriage."

" How, madam ? Pardon me if I fail to comprehend
you."

" Do you not see, conte ? " she went on in a coaxing voice,
as of one that begged to be believed, " if I were to marry one
that was known to have been my husband's most intimate
friend, society is so wicked — people would be sure to say
that there had been something between us before my hus-
band's death — I know they would, and I could not endure
such slander ! "

" Murder will out." they say ! Here was guilt partially de*

j6l VENDETTA I

claring itself. A perfectly innocent woman could not foresee
so readily the condemnation of society. Not having the
knowledge of evil she would be unable to calculate the con-
sequences. The overprudish woman betrays herself ; the fine
lady who virtuously shudders at the sight of a nude statue or
picture, announces at once to all whom it may concern that
there is something far coarser in the suggestions cf her own
mind than the work of art she condemns. Absolute purity
has no fear of social slander; it knows its own value, and
that it must conquer in the end. My wife — alas ! that I
should call her so — was innately vicious and false ; yet how
particular she was in her efforts to secure the blind world's
good opinion ! Poor old world ! how exquisitely it is fooled,
and how good-naturedly it accepts its fooling ! But I had
to answer the fair liar, whose net of graceful deceptions was
now spread to entrap me , therefore i said with an effort of
courtesy :

" No one would dare to slander you, contessa, in my pres-
ence." She bowed and smiled prettily. '* But," I went on,
" if it is true that you have no liking for Signer Ferrari —

" It is true ! " she exclaimed with sudden emphasis. " He
is rough and ill-mannered ; I have seen him the worse for
wine ; sometimes he is insufferable ! I am afraid of him ! "

I glanced at her quietly. Her face had paled, and her
hands, which were busied with some silken embroidery, trem-
bled a little.

*' In that case," I continued, slowly, " though I am sorry
for Ferrari, poor fellow ! he will be immensely disappointed !
I confess I am glad in other respects, because "

"Because what? " she demanded, eagerly.

" Why," I answered, feigning a little embarrassment, " be-
cause there will be more chance for other men who may seek
to possess the hand of the accomplished and beautiful Con-
tessa Romani."

She shook her fair head slightly. A transient expression
of disappointment passed over her features.

" The ' other men' you speak of, conte, are not likely to
indulge in such an ambition," she said, with a faint sigh;
"more especially," and her eyes flashed indignantly, "since
Signer Ferrari thinks it his duty to mount guard over me. I
suppose he-wishes to keep me for himself — a most imperti-
nent and foolish notion ! There is only one thing to do—
I shall leave Naples before he returns."

"Why?" I asked.

VENDETTA! 163

She flushed deeply. " I wish to avoid him," she said, after
a little pause ; " I tell you frankly, he has lately given me
much cause for annoyance. I will not be persecuted by his
attentions ; and as I before said to you, I am often afraid of
him. Under your protection I know I am quite safe, but I
cannot always enjoy that "

The moment had come. I advanced a step or two.

" Why not ? " I said. " It rests entirely with yourself."

She started and half rose from her chair — her work
dropped from her hands.

" What do you mean, conte ? " she faltered, half timidly,
yet anxiously ; " I do not understand ! "

" I mean what I say," I continued in cool hard tones, and
stooping, I picked up her work and restored it to her ; " but
pray do not excite yourself ! You say you cannot always
enjoy my protection ; it seems to me that you can — by be-
coming my wife."

" Conte ! " she stammered. I held up my hand as a sign
to her to be silent.

" I am perfectly aware," I went on in business-like accents
— " of the disparity in years that exists between us. I have
neither youth, health, or good looks to recommend me to you.
Trouble and bitter disappointment have made me what I am.
But I have wealth which is almost inexhaustible — I have
position and influence — and beside these things " — and here
I looked at her steadily, " I have an ardent desire to do
justice to your admirable qualities, and to give you all you
deserve. If you think you could be happy with me, speak
frankly — I cannot offer you the passionate adoration of a
young man — my blood is cold and my pulse is slow — but
what I can do, I will ! "

Having spoken thus, I was silent — gazing at her intently.
She paled and flushed alternately, and seemed for a moment
lost in thought — then a sudden smile of triumph curved her
mouth — she raised her large lovely eyes to mine, with a look
of melting and wistful tenderness. She laid her needle-work
gently down, and came close up to me — her fragrant breath
fell warm on my cheek — her strange gaze fascinated me, and
a sort of tremor shook my nerves.

"You mean," she said, with a tender pathos in her voice
— " that you are willing to marry me, but that you do not
really love me ? "

And almost appealingly she laid her white hand on my
shoulder — her musical accents were low and thrilling — she

1 64 VE tf& ETTA!

sighed faintly. I was silent — battling violently with the fool-
ish desire that had sprung up within me, the desire to draw
this witching fragile thing to my heart, to cover her lips with
kisses — to startle her with the passion of my embraces ! But
I forced the mad impulse down and stood mute. She
watched me — slowly she lifted her hand from where it had
rested, and passed it with a caressing touch through my hair.

" No — you do not really love me," she whispered — " but I
will tell you the truth — / love you /

" And she drew herself up to her full height and smiled
again as she uttered the lie. I knew it was a lie — but I
seized the hand whose caresses stung me, and held it hard,
as I answered :

" You love me? No, no — I cannot believe it — it is impos-
sible ! "

She laughed softly. " It is true though," she said, em-
phatically, " the very first time I saw you I knew I should
love you ! I never even liked my husband, and though in
some things you resemble him, you are quite different in others
— and superior to him in every way. Believe it or not as you
like, you are the only man in all the world I have ever loved /"

And she made the assertion unblushingly, with an air of
conscious pride and virtue. Half stupefied at her manner,
I asked :

" Then you will be my wife ? "

" I will ! " she answered — " and tell me — your name is
Cesare, is it not?"

" Yes," I said, mechanically.

" Then, Cesare" she murmured, tenderly, " I will make you
love me very much ! "

And with a quick lithe movement of her supple figure, she
nestled softly against me, and turned up her radiant glowing
face.

" Kiss me ! " she said, and waited. As one in a whirling
dream, I stooped and kissed those false sweet lips ! I would
have more readily placed my mouth upon that of a poison-
ous serpent ! Yet that kiss roused a sort of fury in me. I
slipped my arms round her half-reclining figure, drew her
gently backward to the couch she had left, and sat down be-
side her, still embracing her. " You really love me ? " I asked
almost fiercely.

" Yes ! "

" And I am the first man whom you have really cared for ? "

"You are!"

VENDETTA! 165

11 You never liked Ferrari ? "

" Never ! "

" Did he ever kiss you as I have done ? "

" Not once ! "

God ! how the lies poured forth ! a very cascade of. them!
and they were all told with such an air of truth ! I marveled
at the ease and rapidity with which they glided off this fair
woman's tongue, feeling somewhat the same sense of stupid
astonishment a rustic exhibits when he sees for the first time
a conjurer drawing yards and yards of many-colored ribbon
out or his mouth. 1 took up the little hand on which the
wedding-ring /had placed there was still worn, and quietly
slipped upon the slim finger a circlet of magnificent rose-
brilliants. I had long carried this trinket about with me in
expectation of the moment that had now come. She started
from my arms with an exclamation of delight.

" Oh, Cesare ! how lovely ! How good you are to me ! "

And leaning toward me, she kissed me, then resting against
my shoulder, she held up her hand to admire the flash of the
diamonds in the light. Suddenly she said, with some anxiety
in her totie:

" You will not tell Guido ? not yet ? "

" No," I answered ; " I certainly will not tell him till he
returns. Otherwise he would leave Rome at once, and we
do not want him back just immediately, do we?" And I
toyed with her rippling gold tresses half mechanically, while
I wondered within myself at the rapid success of my
scheme. She, in the meantime grew pensive and abstracted,
and for a few moments we were both silent. If she had
known ! 1 thought, if she could have imagined that she was
encircled by the arm of her own husbar d, the man whom she
had duped and wronged, the poor fool she had mocked at
and despised, whose life had been an obstruction in her path,
whose death she had been glad of ! Would she have smiled
so sweetly ? Would she have kissed me then ?

* * * # * # #

She remained leaning against me in a resposeful attitude
for some moments, ever and anon turning the ring I had
given her round and round upon her finger. By and by she
looked up.

" Will you do me on-e favor ? " she asked, coaxingly ; " such
a little thing — a tride ! but it would give me such pleasure ! "

" What is it ? " I asked ; " it is you to command and I
to obey 1 "

1 66 VENDETTA!

" Well, to take off those dark glasses just for a minute ! I
want to see your eyes."

I rose from the sofa quickly, and answered her with some
coldness.

" Ask anything you like but that, mia bclla. The least
light on my eyes gives me the most acute pain — pain that irri-
tates my nerves for hours afterward. Be satisfied with me
as I am for the present, though I promise you your wish shall
be gratified "

" When ? " she interrupted me eagerly. I stooped and
kissed her hand.

" On the evening of our marriage day," 1 answered.

She blushed and turned away her head coquettishly.

" Ah ! that is so long to wait ! " she said, half pettishly.

" Not very long, I hope" I observed, with meaning empha-
sis. " We are now in November. May I ask you to make
my suspense brief ? to allow me to fix our wedding for the
second month of the new year ? "

" But my recent widowhood ! — Stella's death ! " — she ob-
jected faintly, pressing a perfumed handkerchief gently to
her eyes.

" In February your husband will have been dead nearly
six months," I said, decisively ; <; it is quite a sufficient period
of mourning for one so young as yourself. And the loss of
your child so increases the loneliness of your situation, that
it is natural, even necessary, that you should secure a pro-
tector as soon as possible. Society will not censure you, you
may be sure — besides, /shall know how to silence any gossip
that savors of impertinence."

A smile of conscious triumph parted her lips.

" It shall be as you wish," she said, demurely ; " if you,
who are known in Naples as one who is perfectly indifferent
to women like now to fisrure as an impatient lover. I shall not
object ! "

And she gave me a quick glance of mischievous amu^
ment from under the languid lids of her dreamy dark eyes.
I saw it, but answered, stiffly :

"You are aware, contessa, and /am also aware that I am
not a ' lover ' according to the accepted type, but that I am
impatient I readily admit."

"And why?" she asked.

" Because," I replied, speaking slowly and emphatically ;
" I desire you to be mine and mine only, to have you ab-
solutely in my possession, ap4 to £e.el that no one. can

VENDETTA ! 167

come between us, or interfere with my wishes concerning
you."

She laughed gayly. " A la bonne heure ! You are a lover
without knowing it ! Your dignity will not allow you to be-
lieve that you are actually in love with me, but in spite of
yourself you are — you know you are ! "

I 'stood before her in almost somber silence. At last I
said : " If you say so, contessa, then it must be so. I have
had no experience in affairs of the heart, as they are called,
and I find it difficult to give a name to the feelings which
possess me ; I am only conscious of a very strong wish to be-
come the absolute master of your destiny." And involunta-
rily I clinched my hand as I spoke. She did not observe the
action, but she answered the words with a graceful bend of
the head and a smile.

" L could not have a better fortune," she said, " for I am
sure my destiny will be all brightness and beauty with you to
control and guide it ! "

" It will be what you desire," I half muttered ; then with
an abrupt change of manner I said : " I will wish you good-
night, contessa. It grows late, and my state of health com-
pels me to retire to rest early."

She rose from her seat and gave me a compassionate
look.

" You are really a great sufferer then ? " she inquired ten-
derly. " I am sorry ! But perhaps careful nursing will quite
restore you. I shall be so proud if I can help you to secure
better health."

" Rest and happiness will no doubt do much for me," I an-
swered, " still I warn you, cara mia, that in accepting me as
your husband you take a broken-down man, one whose whims
are legion and whose chronic state of invalidism may in time
prove to be a burden on your young life. Are you sure your
decision is a wise one ? "

" Quite sure ! " she replied firmly. " Do I not love you J
And you will not always be ailing — you look so strong."

" I am strong to a certain extent," I said, unconsciously
straightening myself as I stood. " I have plenty of muscle
as far as that goes, but my nervous system is completely
disorganized. I — why, what is the matter ? Are you ill ? "

For she had turned deathly pale, and her eyes look startled
and terrified. Thinking she would faint, I extended my
arms to save her from falling, but she put them a?id.e with
an alarmed yet appealing gesture

j66 VENDETTA!

" It is nothing," she murmured feebly, " a sudden giddi
ness — I thought — no matter what ! Tell me, are you not
related to the Romani family? When you drew yourself up
just now you were so like — like Fabio I I fancied," and she
shuddered, " that I saw his ghost ! "

I supported her to a chair near the window, which I threw
open for air, though the evening was cold.

" You are fatigued and overexcited," I said calmly, " your
nature is too imaginative. No ; I am not related to the Ro-
manis, though possibly I may have some of their manner-
isms. Many men are alike in these things. But you must
not give way to such fancies. Rest perfectly quiet, you will
soon recover."

And pouring out a glass of water I handed it to her. She
sipped it slowly, leaning back in the fauteuil where I had
placed her, and in silence we both looked out on the Novem-
beY night. There was a moon, but she was veiled by driving
clouds, which ever and anon swept asunder to show her
gleaming pallidly white, like the restless spirit of a deceived
and murdered lady. A rising wind moaned dismally among
the fading creepers and rustled the heavy branches of a giant
cypress that stood on the lawn like a huge spectral mourner
draped in black, apparently waiting fora forest funeral. Now
and then a few big drops of rain fell — sudden tears wrung as
though by force from the black heart of the sky. My wife
shivered.

" Shut the window ! " she said, glancing back at me where
I stood behind her chair. " I am much better now. I was
very silly. I do not know what came over me, but for the
moment I -felt afraid — horribly afraid ! — of you / "

" That was not complimentary to your future husband," I
remarked, quietly, as I closed and fastened the window in
obedience to her request. " Should I not insist upon an
apology ? "

She laughed nervously, and played with her ring of rose
brilliants.

" It is not yet too late," I resumed, " if on second thoughts
you would rather not marry me, you have only to say so. I
shall accept my fate with 'equanimity, and shall not blame
you."

At this she seemed quite alarmed, and rising, laid her hand
pleadingly on my arm.

" Surely you are not offended ? " she said. " I was not
really afraid of you, you know — it was a stupid fancy — I can-

VENDETTA! 169

not explain it. But I am quite well now, and I am only too
happy. Why, I would not lose your love for all the world —
you must believe me ! "

And she touched my hand caressingly with her lips. I
withdrew it gently, and stroked her hair with an almost
parental tenderness ; then I said quietly :

" If so, we are agreed, and all is well. Let me advise you
to take a long night's rest ; your nerves are weak and some-
what shaken. You wish me to keep our engagement
secret ? "

She thought for a moment, then answered musingly :

" For the present perhaps it would be best. Though,"
and she laughed, " it would be delightful to see all the other
women jealous and envious of my good fortune ! Still, if
the news were told to any of our friends — who knows ? — it
might accidentally reach Guido, and "

" I understand ! You may rely upon my discretion.
Good-night, contessa ! "

" You may call me Nina," she murmured, softly.

" Nina, then," I said, with some effort, as I lightly kissed
her. " Good-night ! — may your dreams be of me ! " She
responded to this with a gratified smile, and as I left the
room she waved her hand in a parting salute. My diamonds
flashed on it like a small circlet of fire ; the light shed through
the rose-colored lamps that hung from the painted ceiling
fell full on her exquisite loveliness, softening it into ethereal
radiance and delicacy, and when I strode forth from the
house into the night air heavy with the threatening gloom of
coming tempest, the picture of that fair face and form flitted
before me like a mirage — the glitter of her hair flashed on
my vision like little snakes of fire — her lithe hands seemed
to beckon me — her lips had left a scorching heat on mine.
Distracted with the thoughts that tortured me, I walked on
and on for hours. The storm broke at last ; the rain poured
in torrents, but heedless of wind and weather, I wandered on
like a forsaken fugitive. I seemed to be the only human
being left alive in a world of wrath and darkness. The rush
and roar of the blast, the angry noise of waves breaking
hurriedly on the shore, the swirling showers that fell on my
defenseless head — all these things were unfelt, unheard by
me. There are times in a m?.n's. life when mere physical
feeling grows numb under the pressure of intense mental
agony — when the indignant soul, smarting with the expert
ence of some vile injustice, forgets for a little itsjiarrow and

1 70 VENDETTA!

poor house of clay. Some such mood was upon me then, I
suppose, for in the very act of walking I was almost uncon-
scious of movement. An awful solitude seemed to encom-
pass me — a silence of my own creating. I fancied that even
the angry elements avoided me as I passed ; that there was
nothing, nothing in all the wide universe but myself and a
dark brooding horror called Vengeance. All suddenly, the
mists of my mind cleared ; I moved no longer in a deaf,
blind stupor. A flash of lightning danced vividly before my
eyes, followed by a crashing peal of thunder , I saw to what
end of a wild journey I had come ! Those heavy gates—-
that undefined stretch of land — those ghostly glimmers of
motionless white like spectral mile-stones emerging from the
gloom — I knew it all too well — it was the cemetery ! I looked
through the iron palisades with the feverish interest of one
who watches the stage curtain rise on the last scene of a
tragedy. The lightning sprung once more across the sky,
and showed me for a brief second the distant marble outline
of the Romani vault. There the drama began — where would
it end? Slowly, slowly there flitted into my thoughts the
face of my lost child — the young, serious face as it had
looked when the calm, preternaturally wise smile of Death
had rested upon it ; and then a curious feeling of pity pos-
sessed me — pity that her little body should be lying stiffly
out there, not in the vault, but under the wet sod, in such a
relentless storm of rain. I wanted to take her up from that
cold couch — to carry her to some home where there should
be light and heat and laughter — to warm her to life again
within my arms ; and as my brain played with these foolish
fancies, slow hot tears forced themselves into my eyes and
scalded my cheeks as they fell. These tears relieved me —
gradually the tightly strung tension of my nerves relaxed,
and I recovered my usual composure by degrees. Turning
deliberately away from the beckoning grave-stones, I walked
back to the city through the thick of the storm, this time
with an assured step and a knowledge of where I was going.
I did not reach my hotel till past midnight , but this was not
late for Naples, and the curiosity of the fat French hall-
porter was not so much excited by the lateness of my arrival
as by the disorder of my apparel.

'"Ah, Heaven!" he cried; "that monsieur the distin-
guished r^uld have been in such a storm all unprotected !
\Vhy did not nnnsieur send for his carriage ? " I cut short
his ex,clamatiQns by dropping five francs into his ever-ready

VENDETTA!

171

hand, assuring him that I had thoroughly enjoyed the nov-
elty of a walk in bad weather, whereat he smiled and con-
gratulated me as much as he had just commiserated me. On
reaching my own rooms, my valet Vincenzo stared at my
dripping and disheveled condition, but was discreetly mute.
He quickly assisted me to change my wet clothes for a warm
dressing-gown, and then brought a glass of mulled port wine,
but performed these duties with such an air of unbroken
gravity that I was inwardly amused while I admired the fel-
low's reticence. When I was about to retire for the night I
tossed him a napoleon. He eyed it musingly and inquir-
ingly ; then he asked :

" Your excellency desires to purchase something ? "
" Your silence, my friend, that is all ! "' I replied, with a
laugh. " Understand me, Vincenzo, you will serve yourself
and me best by obeying implicitly, and asking no questions.
Fortunate is the servant who, accustomed to see his master
drunk every night, swears to all outsiders that he has never
served so sober and discreet a gentleman ! That is your
character, Vincenzo — keep to it, and we shall not quarrel."
He smiled gravely, and pocketed my piece of gold without a
word — like a true Tuscan as he was. The sentimental serv-
ant, whose fine feelings will not allow him to accept an ex-
tra " tip," is, you may be sure, a humbug. I never believed
in such a one. Labor can always command its price, and
what so laborious in this age as to be honest ? What so diffi-
cult as to keep silence on other people's affairs ? Such her-
culean tasks deserve payment ! A valet who is generously
bribed, in addition to his wages, can be relied on ; if under-
paid, all heaven and earth will not persuade him to hold his
tongue. Left alone at last in my sleeping chamber, I re-
mained for some time before actually going to bed. -I took
off the black spectacles which served me so well, and looked
at myself in the mirror with some curiosity. I never per-
mitted Vincenzo to enter my bedroom at night, or before I
was dressed in the morning, lest he should surprise me with-
out these appendages which were my chief disguise, for in
such a case I fancy even his studied composure would have
given way. For, disburdened of my smoke-colored glasses,
I appeared what I was, young and vigorous in spite of my
white beard and hair. My face, which had been worn and
haggard at first, had filled up and was healthily colored ;
while my eyes, the spokesmen of my thoughts, were bright
with the clearness and fire of constitutional strength

172 VENDETTA!

physical well-being. I wondered, as I stared moodily at my
own reflection, how it was that I did not look ill. The men-
tal suffering I continually underwent, mingled though it was
with a certain gloomy satisfaction, should surely have left
more indelible traces on my countenance. Yet it has been
proved that it is not always the hollow-eyed, sallow and de-
spairing-looking persons who are really in sharp trouble —
these are more often bilious or dyspeptic, and know no more
serious grief than the incapacity to gratify their appetites for
the high-flavored delicacies of the table. A man may be en-
dowed with superb physique, and a constitution that is in
perfect working order — his face and outward appearance
may denote the most harmonious action of the life principle
within him — and yet his nerves may be so finely strung that
he may be capable of suffering acuter agony in his mind than
if his body were to be hacked slowly to pieces by jagged
knives, and it will leave no mark on his features while youth
still has hold on his flesh and blood.

So it was with me ; and I wondered what she — Nina — would
say, could she behold me, unmasked as it were, in the sc.li-
tude of my own room. This thought roused another in my
mind — another at which I smiled grimly. I was an engaged
man ! Engaged to marry my own wife ; betrothed for the
second time to the same woman ! What a difference be-
tween this and my first courtship of her ! Then, who so
great a fool as I — who so adoring, passionate and devoted !
Now, who so darkly instructed, who so cold, so absolutely
pitiless ! The climax to my revenge was nearly reached. I
looked through the coming days as one looks through a tele-
scope out to sea, and I could watch the end approaching
like a phantom ship — neither slow nor fast, but steadily and
silently. I was able to calculate each event in its due
order, and I knew there was no fear of failure in the final
result. Nature itself — the sun, moon and stars, the sweep-
ing circle of the seasons — all seem to aid in the cause of
rightful justice. Man's duplicity may succeed in withhold-
ing a truth for a time, but in the end it must win its way.
Once resolve, and then determine to carry out that resolve,
and it is astonishing to note with what marvelous ease every-
thing makes way for you, provided there be no innate weak-
ness in yourself which causes you to hesitate. I had for-
merly been weak, I knew, very weak — else I had never been
fooled by wife and friend ; but now, now my strength was as
the strength of a demon working within me. My hand had

VENDETTA! 173

already closed with an iron grip on two false unworthy lives,
and had I not sworn " never to relax, never to relent" till my
vengeance was accomplished ? I had ! Heaven and earth
had borne witness to my vow, and now held me to its stern

fulfillment.

CHAPTER XX.

WINTER, or what the Neapolitans accept as winter, came
on apace. For some time past the air had been full of that
mild chill and vaporous murkiness, which, not cold enough
to be bracing, sensibly lowered the system and depressed the
spirits. The careless and jovial temperament of the people,
However, was never much affected by the change of seasons
— they drank more hot coffee than usual, and kept their feet
warm by dancing from midnight up to the small hours of the
morning. The cholera was a thing of the past — the cleansing
of the city, the sanitary precautions, which had been so much
talked about and recommended in order to prevent another
outbreak in the coming year, were all forgotten and neglected,
and the laughing populace tripped lightly over the graves of
its dead hundreds as though they were odorous banks of
flowers. " Oggi / Oggi/" is their cry — to-day, to-day!
Never mind what happened yesterday, or what will happen
to-morrow — leave that to * signori Santi and la Signora Ma-
donna ! And after all there is a grain of reason in their folly, for
many of the bitterest miseries of man grow out of a fatal habit
of looking back or looking forward, and of never living actually
in the full-faced present. Then, too, Carnival was approach-
ing ; Carnival, which, though denuded of many of its best
and brightest features, still reels through the streets of Naples
with something of the picturesque madness that in old times
used to accompany its prototype, the Feast of Bacchus. I
was reminded of this coming festivity on the morning of the
2ist of December, when I noted some unusual attempts on
the part of Vincenzo to control his countenance, that often,
in spite of his efforts, broadened into a sunny smile as though
some humorous thought had flitted across his mind. He be-
trayed himself at last by asking me demurely whether I pur-
posed taking any part in the carnival ? I smiied and shook
my head. Vincenzo looked dubious, but finally summoned
up courage to say :

" Will the eccellenza permit "

174 VENDETTA!

"You to make a fool of yourself ? " I interrupted, "by all
means ! Take your own time, enjoy the fun as much as you
please ; I promise you i will ask no account of your actions.'*

He was much gratified, and attended to me with even more
punctiliousness than usual. As he prepared my breakfast I
asked him :

" By the way, when does the carnival begin ? "

" On the 26th," he answered, with a slight air of surprise.
" Surely the eccellenza knows."

"Yes, yes," I said, impatiently. " I know, but I had for-
gotten. I am not young enough to keep the dates of these
follies in my memory. What letters have you there ? "

He handed me a small tray full of different shaped missives,
some from fair ladies who " desired the honor of my com-
pany," others from tradesmen, " praying the honor of my cus-
tom," all from male and female toadies as usual, I thought
contemptuously, as I turned them over, when my glance was
suddenly arrested by one special envelope, square in form
and heavily bordered with black, on which the postmark
" Roma " stood out distinctly. " At last ! " I thought, and
breathed heavily. I turned to my valet, who was giving the
final polish to my breakfast cup and saucer :

" You may leave the room, Vincenzo," I said, briefly. He
bowed, the door opened and shut noiselessly — he was gone.

Slowly I broke the seal of that fateful letter ; a letter from
Guido Ferrari, a warrant self-signed, for his own execution !

" MY BEST FRIEND," so it ran, " you will guess by the
* black flag' on my envelope the good news I have to give
you. My uncle is dead at last, thank God ! and I am left his
sole heir unconditionally. I am free, and shall of course re-
turn to Naples immediately, that is, as soo!> as some trifling
law business has been got through with the executors. I be-
lieve I can arrange my return for the 23d or 24th instant,
but will telegraph to you the exact day, and, if possible, the
exact hour. Will you oblige me by not announcing this to
the countess, as I wish to take her by surprise. Poor girl !
she will have often felt lonely, I am sure, and I want to see
the first beautiful look of rapture and astonishment in her
eyes ! You can understand this, can you not, amico, or does
it seem to you a folly ? At any rate, I should consider it
very churlish were I to keep you in ignorance of my coming
home, and 1 know you vill humor me in my desire that the
news should be withheld from Nina, How delighted she

VENDETTA ! 175

will be, and what a joyous carnival we will have this winter !
I do not think I ever felt more light of heart ; perhaps it is
because I am so much heavier in pocket. I am glad of the
money, as it places me on a more equal footing with her, and
though all her letters to me have been full of the utmost ten-
derness, still I feel she will think even better of me, now I
am in a position somewhat nearer to her own. As for you,
my good conte, on my return I shall make it my first duty to
pay back with interest the rather large debt I owe to you —
thus my honor will be satisfied, and you, I am sure, will have
a better opinion of

" Yours to command,

" GUIDO FERRARI."

This was the letter, and I read it over and over again.
Some of the words burned themselves into my memory as
though they were living flame. " All her letters to me have
been full of the utmost tenderness ! " Oh, miserable-dupe !
fooled, fooled to the acme of folly even as I had been ! She,
the arch-traitress, to prevent his entertaining the slightest
posible suspicion or jealousy of her actions during his ab-
sence, had written him, no doubt, epistles sweet as honey,
brimming over with endearing epithets and vows of constancy,
even while she knew she had accepted me as her husband —
me — good God ! What a devil's dance of death it was ! -

" On my return I shall make it my first duty to pay back
with interest the rather large debt I owe you " ( rather large
indeed, Guido, so large that you have no idea of its extent !),
"thus my honor will be satisfied" (and so will mine in part),
" and you, I am sure, will have a better opinion of yours to com-
mand" Perhaps I shall, Guido — mine to command as you
are — perhaps when all my commands are fulfilled to the
bitter end, I may think more kindly of you. But not till
then ! In the meantime — I thought earnestly for a few min-
utes, and then sitting down, I penned the following note.

" Caro amico ! Delighted to hear of your good fortune,
and still more enchanted to know you will soon enliven us
all with your presence ! I admire your little plan of surpris-
ing the countess, and will respect your wishes in the matter.
But you, on your part, must do me a trifling favor : we have
been very dull since you left, and I purpose to start the gay-
eties afresh by giving a dinner on the 24th (Christmas Eve),
in honor of your return — an epicurean repast for gentlemen

176 VENDETTA!

only. Therefore, I ask you to oblige me by fixing your re-
turn for that day, and on arrival at Naples, come straight to
me at this hotel, that I may have the satisfaction of being
the first to welcome you as you deserve. Telegraph your
answer and the hour of your train ; and my carriage shall
meet you at the station. The dinner-hour can be fixed to
suit your convenience of course ; what say you to eight
o'clock ? After dinner you can betake yourself to the Villa
Romani when you please — your enjoyment of the lady's
surprise and rapture will be the more keen for having been
slightly delayed. Trusting you will not refuse to gratify an
old man's whim, I am,

" Yours for the time being,

" CESARE OLIVA."

This epistle finished and written in the crabbed disguised
penmanship it was part of my business to effect, I folded,
sealed and addressed it, and summoning Vincenzo, bade
him post it immediately. As soon as he had gone on this
errand, I sat down to my as yet untasted breakfast and made
some effort to eat as usual. But my thoughts were too active
for appetite — I counted on my fingers the days — there were
four, only four, between me and — what? One thing was
certain — I must see my wife, or rather I should say my
betrothed — I must see her that very day. I then began to
consider how my courtship had progressed since that even-
ing when she had declared she loved me. I had seen her
frequently, though not daily — her behavior had been by turns
affectionate, adoring, timid, gracious and once or twice
passionately loving, though the la.ter impulse in her I had
always coldly checked. For though I could bear a great
deal, any outburst of sham sentiment on her part sickened
and filled me with such utter loathing that often when she
was more than usually tender I dreaded lest my pent-up
wrath should break loose and impel me to kill her swiftly
and suddenly as one crushes the head of a poisonous adder —
an all-too-merciful death for such as she. I preferred to woo
her by gifts alone — and her hands were always ready to take
whatever I or others chose to offer her. From a rare jewel
to a common flower she never refused anything — her strongest
passions were vanity and avarice. Sparkling gems from the
pilfered store of Carmelo Neri — trinkets which I had espe-
cially designed for her — lace, rich embroideries, bouquets of
hot-house blossoms, gilded boxes of costly sweets — nothing

VENDETTA t 177

came amiss to her — she accepted all with a certain covetous
glee which she was at no pains to hide irom me — nay, she
made it rather evident that she expected such things as her
right.

And after all, what did it matter to me — I thought — of
what value was anything I possessed save to assist me in
carrying out the punishment I had destined for her? I
studied her nature with critical coldness — I saw its inbred
vice artfully concealed beneath the affectation of virtue — every
day she sunk lower in my eyes, and I wondered vaguely how
I could ever have loved so coarse and common a thing !
Lovely she certainly was — lovely too are many of the wretched
outcasts who sell themselves in the streets for gold, and who
in spite of their criminal trade are less vile than such a
woman as the one I had wedded. Mere beauty of face and
form can be bought as easily as one buys a flower — but the
loyal heart, the pure soul, the lofty intelligence which can
make of woman an angel — these are unpurchasable ware, and
seldom fall to the lot of man. For beauty, though so perish-
able, is a snare to us all — it maddens our blood in spite of
ourselves — we men are made so. How was it that I — even I,
who now loathed the creature I had once loved — could not
look upon her physical loveliness without a foolish thrill of
passion awaking within me — passion that had something of
the murderous in it — admiration that was almost brutal —
feelings which I could not control though I despised myself
for them while they lasted ! There is a weak point in the
strongest of us, and wicked women know well where we are
most vulnerable. One dainty pin-prick well-aimed — and all
the barriers of caution and reserve are broken down — we are
ready to fling away our souls for a smile or a kiss. Surely
at the last day when we are judged — and may be condemned
— we can make our last excuse to the Creator in the words
of the first misguided man :

"The woman whom thou gav*-st to be with me — she
tempted me, and I did eat ! "

I lost no time that day in going to the Villa Romani. I
drove there in my carriage, taking with me the usual love-
offering in the shape of a large gilded osier-basket full of
white violets. Their delicious odor reminded me of that
May morning when Stella was born — and then quickly there
flashed into my mind the words spoken by Guido Ferrari at
the time. How mysterious they had seemed to me then —
how clear their meaning now 1 On arriving at the villa I

22

178 VENDETTA!

found my fiancee in her own boudoir, attired in morning
deshabille, if a trailing robe of white cashmere trimmed with
Mechlin lace and swan's-down can be considerid deshabille.
Her rich hair hung loosely on her shoulders, and she was
seated in a velvet easy-chair before a small sparkling wood
fire, reading. Her attitude was one of luxurious ease and
grace, but she sprung up as soon as her maid announced me,
and came forward with her usual charming air of welcome,
in which there was something imperial, as of a sovereign who
receives a subject. I presented the flowers I had brought,
with a few words of studied and formal compliment, uttered
for the benefit of the servant who lingered in the room — then
I added in a lower tone :

" I have news of importance — can I speak to you pri-
vately ? "

She smiled assent, and motioning me by a graceful gesture
of her hand to take a seat, she at once dismissed her maid.
As soon as the door had closed behind the girl I spoke at
once and to the point, scarcely waiting till my wife resumed
her easy-chair before the fire.

" I have had a letter from Signer Ferrari."

She started slightly, but said nothing, she merely bowed
her head and raised her delicately arched eyebrows with a
look of inquiry as of one who should say, " Indeed ! in what
way does this concern me ? " I watched her narrowly, and
then continued, " He is coming back in two or three days —
he says he is sure," and here I smiled, " that you will be de-
lighted to see him."

This time she half rose from her seat, her lips moved as
though she would speak, but she remained silent, and sinking
back again among her violet velvet cushions, she grew very
pale.

" If," I went on, " you have any reason to think that he
may make himself disagreeable to you when he knows of your
engagement to me, out of disappointed ambition, conceit, or
self-interest (for of course you never encouraged him), I should
advise you to go on a visit to some friends for a few days, till
his irritation shall have somewhat passed. What say you to
such a plan ? "

She appeared to meditate for a few moments — then rais-
ing her lovely eyes with a wistful and submissive look, she
replied :

" It shall be as you wish, Cesare ! Signer Ferrari is cer-
tainly rash and hot-tempered, he might be presumptuous

VENDETTA! 179

enough to — But you do not think of yourself in the matter!
Surely you also are in danger of being insulted by him when
he knows all ? "

" I shall be on my guard ! " I said, quietly. " Besides, I
can easily pardon any outburst of temper on his part — it will
be perfectly natural, I think ! To lose all hope of ever win-
ning such a love as yours must needs be a sore trial to one
of his hot blood and fiery impulses. Poor fellow ! " and I
sighed and shook my head with benevolent gentleness. " By
the way, he tells me he has had letters from you ? "

I put this question carelessly, but it took her by surprise
She caught her breath hard and looked at me sharply, with
an alarmed expression. Seeing that my face was perfectly
impassive, she recovered her composure instantly, and an-
swered :

" Oh, yes ! I have been compelled to write to him once
or twice on matters of business connected with my late
husband's affairs. Most unfortunately, Fabio made him one
of the trustees of his fortune in case of his death — it is exceed-
ingly awkward for me that he should occupy that position —
it appears to give him some authority over my actions. In
reality he has none. He has no doubt exaggerated the num-
ber of times I have written to him ? it would be like his im-
pertinence to do so."

Though this last remark was addressed to me almost as a
question, I let it pass without response. I reverted to my
original theme.

" What think you, then ? " I said. " Will you remain here
or will you absent yourself for a few days ? "

She rose from her chair and approaching me, knelt down
at my side, clasping her two little hands round my arm.
" With your permission," she returned, softly, " I will go to
the convent where I was educated. It is some eight or ten
miles distant from here, and I think " (here she counterfeited
the most wonderful expression of ingenuous sweetness and
piety) — "I think I should like to make a ' retreat' — that is,
devote some time solely to the duties of religion before I
enter upon a second marriage. The dear nuns would be so
glad to see me — and I am sure you will not object ? It
will be a good preparation for my future."

I seized her caressing hands and held them hard, while I
looked upon her kneeling there like the white-robed figure
of a praying saint.

" It will .indeed ! " I said in a harsh voice. " The best of

180 VEND ETTA t

all possible preparations ! We none of us know what may
happen — we cannot tell whether life or death awaits us — it
is wise to prepare for either bywords of penitence and devo-
tion ! I admire this beautiful spirit in you, carina ! Go to
the convent by all means ! I shall find you there and will
visit you when the wrath and bitterness of our friend Ferrari
have been smoothed into silence and resignation. Yes — go
to the convent, among the good and pious nuns — and when
you pray for yourself, pray for the peace of your dead hus-
band's soul — and — for me ! Such prayers, unselfish and
earnest, uttered by pure lips like yours, fly swiftly to heaven !
And as for young Guido — have no fear — I promise you he
shall offend you no more ! "

" Ah, you do not know him ! " she murmured, lightly kiss-
ing my hands that still held hers ; " I fear he will give you a
great deal of trouble."

" I shall at any rate know how to silence him," I said, re-
leasing her as I spoke, and watching her as she rose from
her kneeling position and stood before me, supple and delicate
as a white iris swaying in the wind. " You never gave him
reason to hope — therefore he has no cause of complaint."

" True ! " she replied, readily, with an untroubled smile.
" But I am such a nervous creature ! I am always imagin-
ing evils that never happen. And now, Cesare, when do you
wish me to go to the convent ? "

I shrugged my shoulders with an air of indifference.

" Your submission to my will, mia bella" I said, coldly,
" is altogether charming, and flatters me much, but I am not
your master — not yet ! Pray choose your own time, and suit
your departure to your own pleasure."

" Then," she replied, with an air of decision, " I will go to-
day. The sooner the better — for some instinct tells me that
Guido will play us a trick and return before we expect him.
Yes— I will go to-day."

I rose to take my leave. " Then you will require leisure
to make your preparations," I said, with ceremonious polite-
ness. " I assure you I approve your resolve. If you inform
the superioress of the convent that I am your betrothed hus-
band, I suppose I shall be permitted to see you when I
call ? "

" Oh, certainly ! " she replied. " The dear nuns will do
anything for me. Their order is one of perpetual adoration,
^nd their rules are very strict, but they do not apply them to
their old pupils, and I am one of their great favorites."

VENDETTA! igi

" Naturally ! " I observed. " And will you also join in the
service of perpetual adoration ? "

" Oh, yes ! "

:' It needs an untainted soul like yours," I said, with a
satirical smile, which she did not see, " to pray before the un-
veiled Host without being conscience-smitten ! I envy you
your privilege. / could not do it — but you are probably
nearer to the angels than we know. And so you will pray
for me ? "

She raised her eyes with devout gentleness. " I will in-
deed!"

" I thank you ! " — and I choked back the bitter contempt
and disgust I had for her hypocrisy as I spoke — " I thank
you heartily — most heartily ! Addio ! "

She came or rather floated to my side, her white garments
trailing about her and the gold of her hair glittering in the
mingled glow of the firelight and the wintery sunbeams that
shone through the window. She looked up — a witch-like
languor lay in her eyes — her red lips pouted.

*' Not one kiss before you go ? " she said.

CHAPTER XXI.

FOR a moment I lost my self-possession. I scarcely re-
member now what I did. I know I clasped her almost roughly
in my arms — I know that I kissed her passionately on lips,
throat and brow — and that in the fervor of my embraces, the
thought of what manner of vile thing she was came swiftly
upon me, causing me to release her with such suddenness
that she caught at the back of a chair to save herself from
falling. Her breath came and went in little quick gasps of
excitement, her face was flushed — she looked astonished,
yet certainly not displeased. No, she was not angry, but I
was — thoroughly annoyed — bitterly vexed with myself, for
being such a fool.

" Forgive me," I muttered. " I forgot— I "

A little smile stole round the corners of her mouth.
" You are fully pardoned ! " she said, in a low voice, " you
need not apologize."

Her smile deepened ; suddenly she broke into a rippling
laugh, sweet and silvery as a bell — a laugh that went through
pe like a knife. Was it not the self-same laughter that had

182 VENDETTA!

pierced my brain the night I witnessed her amorous inter-
view with Guido in the avenue ? Had not the cruel mock-
ery of it nearly driven me mad ? I could not endure it — I
sprung to her side — she ceased laughing and looked at me
in wide-eyed wonderment.

" Listen ! " I said, in an impatient, almost fierce tone.
" Do not laugh like that ! It jars my nerves — it — hurts me !
I will tell you why. Once — long ago — in my youth — I loved
a woman. She was not like you — no — for she was false !
False to the very heart's core — false in every word she ut-
tered. You understand me ? she resembled you in nothing —
nothing ! But she used to laugh at me — she trampled on my
life and spoiled it — she broke my heart ! It is all past now.
I never think of her, only your laughter reminded me—
there ! " And I took her hands and kissed them. " I have
told you the story of my early folly — forget it and forgive
me ! It is time you prepared for your journey, is it not ?
If I can be of service to you, command me — you know where
to send for me. Good-bye ! and the peace of a pure con-
science be with you ! "

And I laid my burning hand on her head weighted with
its clustering curls of gold. She thought this gesture was
one of blessing. / thought — God only knows what I thought
— yet surely if curses can be so bestowed, my curse crowned
her at that moment ! I dared not trust myself longer in her
presence, and without another word or look I left her and
hurried from the house. I knew she was startled and at
the same time gratified to think she could thus have moved
me to any display of emotion — but I would not even turn my
head to catch her parting glance. I could not — I was sick
of myself and of her. I was literally torn asunder between
love and hatred — love born basely of material feeling alone
— hatred, the offspring of a deeply injured spirit for whose
wrong there could scarce be found sufficient remedy. Once
out of the influence of her bewildering beauty, my mind
grew calmer — and the drive back to the hotel in my carriage
through the sweet chillness of the December air quieted the
feverish excitement of my blood and restored me to myself.
It was a most lovely day — bright and fresh, with the savor
of the sea in the wind. The waters of the bay were of a
steel-like blue shading into deep olive-green, and a soft haze
lingered about the shores of Amalfi like a veil of gray, shot
through with silver and gold. Down the streets went women
in picturesque garb carrying on their heads baskets full to

VENDETTA f 183

the brim of purple violets that scented the air as they passed
— children ragged and dirty ran along, pushing the luxuriant
tangle of their dark locks away from their beautiful wild an-
telope eyes, and, holding up bunches of roses and narcissi
with smiles as brilliant as the very sunshine, implored the
passengers to buy " for the sake of the little Gesu who was
soon coming ! "

Bells clashed and clanged from the churches in honor of
San Tommaso, whose festival it was, and the city had that
aspect of gala gayety about it, which is in truth common
enough to all continental towns, but which seems strange to
the solemn Londoner who sees so much apparently reason-
less merriment for the first time. He, accustomed to have
his reluctant laughter pumped out of him by an occasional
visit to the theater where he can witness the " original," En-
glish translation of a French farce, cannot understand why
these foolish Neapolitans should laugh and sing and shout
in the manner they do, merely because they are glad to be
alive. And after much dubious consideration, he decides
within himself that they are all rascals — the scum of % the
earth — and that he and he only is the true representative of
man at his best — the model of civilized respectability. And
a mournful spectacle he thus seems to the eyes of us " base"
foreigners — in our hearts we are sorry for him and believe
that if he could manage to shake off the fetters of his insular
customs and prejudices, he might almost succeed in enjoy-
ing life as much as we do !

As I drove along I saw a small crowd at one of the street
corners — a gesticulating, laughing crowd, listening to an
" improvisatore " or wandering poet — a plump-looking fellow
who had all the rhymes of Italy at his fingers' ends, and who
could make a poem on any subject or an acrostic on any
name, with perfect facility. I stopped my carriage to listen
tohis extemporized verses, many of which were really admir-
able, and tossed him three francs. He threw them up in the air,
one after the other, and caught them, as they fell, in his mouth,
appearing to have swallowed them all — then with an inimi-
table grimace, he pulled off his tattered cap and said :

" Ancora ajfamato, excellenza /" (I am still hungry !) amid
the renewed laughter of his easily amused audience. A
merry poet he was and without conceit — and his good humor
merited the extra silver pieces I gave him, which caused him,
to wish me — " Buon cppetito e un sorriso della Madonna !"
•*— (a good appetite to you and a smile of the Madonna i)

184 VENDETTA!

Imagine the Lord Laureate of England standing at the cor*
ner of Regent Street swallowing half-pence for his rhymes !
Yet some of the quaint conceits strung together by such a
fellow as this improvisatore might furnish material for many
of the so-called " poets " whose names are mysteriously
honored in Britain.

Further on I came upon a group of red-capped coral
fishers assembled round a portable stove whereon roasting
chestnuts cracked their glossy sides and emitted savor)
odors. The men were singing gayly to the thrumming ot an
old guitar, and the song they sung was familiar to me.
Stay ! where had I heard it ? — let me listen !

" Sciore limone *
Le voglio far mori de passione
Zompa llari llira 1 "

Ha ! I remembered now. When I had crawled out of the
vault through the brigand's hole of entrance — when my heart
had bounded with glad anticipations never to be realized — •
when I had believed in the worth of love and friendship —
when I had seen the morning sun glittering on the sea, and
had thought — poor fool ! — that his long beams were like so
many golden flags of joy hung up in heaven to symbolize the
happiness of my release from death and my restoration to
liberty — then — then I had heard a sailor's voice in the dis-
tance singing that " ritornello," and I had fondly imagined
its impassioned lines were all for me ! Hateful music — most
bitter sweetness ! I could have put my hands up to my ears
to shut out the sound of it now that I thought of the time
when I had heard it last ! For then I had possessed a heart
— a throbbing, passionate, sensitive thing — alive to every
emotion of tenderness and affection — now that heart was
dead and cold as a stone. Only its corpse went with me
everywhere, weighing me down with itself to the strange
grave it occupied, a grave wherein were also buried so many
dear delusions — such plaintive regrets, such pleading mem-
ories, that surely it was no wonder their small ghosts arose
and haunted me, saying, " Wilt thou not weep for this lost
sweetness ? " " Wilt thou not relent before such a remem-
brance 1 " or " Hast thou no desire for that past delight 7"
But to all such inward temptations my soul was deaf and
inexorable ; justice — stern, immutable justice was what I
sought and what I meant to have.

May be you find it hard to understand the possibility of
* Neapolitan dialect.

VENDETTA! !$.£

scheming and carrying out so prolonged a vengeance as mine ?
If you that read these pages are English, I know it will seem
to you well-nigh incomprehensible. The temperate blood of
the northerner, combined with his open, unsuspicious nature,
has, I admit, the advantage over us in matters of personal
injury. An Englishman, so I hear, is incapable of nourish-
ing a long and deadly resentment, even against an unfaithful
wife — he is too indifferent, he thinks it not worth his while.
But we Neapolitans, we can carry a " vendetta " through a
life-time — ay, through generation after generation ! This is
bad, you say — immoral, unchristian. No doubt ! We are
more than half pagans at heart ; we are as our country and
our traditions have made us. It will need another visitation
of Christ before we shall learn how to forgive those that de-
spitefully use us. Such a doctrine seems to us a mere play
upon words — a weak maxim only fit for children and priests.
Besides, did Christ himself forgive Judas ? The gospel does
not say so !

When I reached my own apartments at the hotel I felt
worn out and fagged. I resolved to rest and receive no
visitors that day. While giving my orders to Vincenzo a
thought occurred to me. I went to a cabinet in the room and
unlocked a secret drawer. In it lay a strong leather case.
I lifted this, and bade Vincenzo unstrap and open it. He
did so, nor showed the least sign of surprise when a pair of
richly ornamented pistols was displayed to his view.

" Good weapons ? " I remarked, in a casual manner.

My vallet took each one out of the case, and examined
them both critically.

" They need cleaning, eccellenza."

" Good ! " I said, briefly. ** Then clean them and put
them in good order. I may require to use them."

The imperturbable Vincenzo bowed, and taking the weap-
ons, prepared to leave the room.

" Stay ! "

He turned. I looked at him steadily.

" I believe you are a faithful fellow, Vincenzo," I said.

He met my glance frankly.

'* The day may come," I went on, quietly, " when I shall
perhaps put your fidelity to the proof."

The dark Tuscan eyes, keen and clear the moment before,
flashed brightly and then grew humid.

" Eccellenza, you have only to command ! I was a soldier
$nce — I know what duty means. But there is a better s^ry-

1 86 VENDETTA!

ice — gratitude. I am your poor servant, but you have won
my heart. I would give my life for you should you desire it ! "

He paused, half ashamed of the emotion that threatened
to break through his mask of impassibility, bowed again and
would have left me, but that I called him back and held out
my hand.

" Shake hands, amico" I said, simply.

He caught it with an astonished yet pleased look — and stoop-
ing, kissed it before I could prevent him, and this time liter-
ally scrambled out of my presence with an entire oblivion of
his usual dignity. Left alone, I considered this behavior of
his with half-pained surprise. This poor fellow loved me it
was evident — why, I knew not. I had done no more for
him than any other master might have done for a good serv-
ant. I had often spoken to him with impatience, even
harshness ; and yet I had " won his heart " — so he said.
Why should he care for me ? why should my poor old butler
Giacoma cherish me so devotedly in his memory ; why should
my very dog still love and obey me, when my nearest and
dearest, my wife and my friend, had so gladly 'forsaken me,
and were so eager to forget me ! Perhaps fidelity was not
the fashion now among educated persons ? Perhaps it was
a worn-out virtue, left to the bas-peuple — to the vulgar — and
to animals ? Progress might have attained this result — no
doubt it had.

I sighed wearily, and threw myself down in an arm-chair
near the window, and watched the white-sailed boats skim-
ming like flecks of silver across the blue-green water. The
tinkling of a tambourine by and by attracted my wandering
attention, and looking into the street just below my balcony
I saw a young girl dancing. She was lovely to look at, and
she danced with exquisite grace as well as modesty, but the
beauty of her face was not so much caused by perfection of
feature or outline as by a certain wistful expression that had
in it something of nobility and pride. I watched her; at the
conclusion of her dance she held up her tambourine with a
bright yet appealing smile. Silver and copper were freely
flung to her, I contributing my quota to the amount ; but all
she received she at once emptied into a leathern bag which
was carried by a young and handsome man who accompanied
her, and who, alas ! was totally blind. I knew the couple
well, and had often seen them ; their history was pathetic
enough. The girl had been betrothed to the young fellow
when he had occupied a fairly good position as a worker in

VENDETTA! 187

silver filigree jewelry. His eyesight, long painfully strained
over his delicate labors, suddenly failed him — he lost his
place, of course, and was utterly without resources. He
offered to release his fiancee from her engagement, but she
would not take her freedom — she insisted on marrying him
at once. She had her way, and devoted herself to him soul
and body — danced in the streets and sung to gain a living
for herself and him ; taught him to weave baskets so that he
might not feel himself entirely dependent on her, and she
sold these baskets for him so successfully that he was grad-
ually making quite a little trade of them. Poor child ! for
she was not much more than a child — what a bright face she
had ! — glorified by the self-denial and courage of her every-
day life. No wonder she had won the sympathy of the warm-
hearted and impulsive Neapolitans — they looked upon her
as a heroine of romance ; and as she passed through the
streets, leading her blind husband tenderly by the hand, there
was not a creature in the city, even among the most abandoned
and vile characters, who would have dared to offer her the
least insult, or who would have ventured to address her other-
wise than respectfully. She was good, innocent, and true ;
how was it, I wondered dreamily, that /could not have won
a woman's heart like hers ? Were the poor alone to possess
all the old world virtues — honor and faith, love and loyalty ?
Was there something in a life of luxury that sapped virtue
at its root? Evidently early training had little to do with
after results, for had not my wife been brought up among an
order of nuns renowned for simplicity and sanctity ; had not
her own father declared her to be " as pure as a flower on
the altar of the Madonna ; " and yet the evil had been in her,
and nothing had eradicated it ; for even religion, with her,
was a mere graceful sham, a kind of theatrical effect used
to tone down her natural hypocrisy. My own thoughts
began to harass and weary me. I took up a volume of phil-
osophic essays and began to read, in an endeavor to distract
my mind from dwelling on the one perpetual theme. The
day wore on slowly enough ; and I was glad when the even-
ing closed in, and when Vincenzo, remarking that the night
was chilly, kindled a pleasant wood-fire in my room, and
lighted the lamps. A little while before my dinner was
served he handed me a letter stating that it had just been
brought by the Countess Romani's coachman. It bore my
own seal and motto. I opened it ; it was dated, " La San-
tissima Annunziata," and ran as follows ;

i&8 VENDETTA !

" Beloved ! I arrived here safely ; the nuns are delighted
to see me, and you will be made heartily welcome when you
come. I think of you constantly — how happy I felt this
morning ! You seemed to love me so much ; why are you
not always so fond of your faithful

" NINA ? "

I crumpled this note fiercely in my hand and flung it into
the leaping flames of the newly lighted fire. There was a
faint perfume about it that sickened me — a subtle odor like
that of a civet cat when it moves stealthily after its prey
through a tangle of tropical herbage. I always detested
scented note-paper — I am not the only man who does so.
One is led to fancy that the fingers of the woman who writes
upon it must have some poisonous or offensive taint about
them, which she endeavors to cover by the aid of a chemical
concoction. I would not permit myself to think of this so
" faithful Nina " as she styled herself. I resumed my read-
ing, and continued it even at dinner, during which meal
Vincenzo waited upon me with his usual silent gravity and
decorum, though I could feel that he watched me with a
certain solicitude. I suppose I looked weary — I certainly
felt so, and retired to rest unusually early. The time seemed
to me so long — would the end never come ? The next day
dawned and trailed its tiresome hours after it, as a prisoner
might trail his chain of iron fetters, until sunset, and then-
then, when the gray of the wintery sky flashed for a brief
space into glowing red — then, while the water looked like
blood and the clouds like flame — then a few words sped along
the telegraph wires that stilled my impatience, roused my
soul, and braced every nerve and muscle in my body to
instant action. They were plain, clear, and concise :

w From Guido Ferrari, Rome, to II Conte Cesare Oliva,
Naples. — Shall be with you on the 24th inst. Train arrives
at 6:30 P.M. Will come to you as you desire without fail."

CHAPTER XXII.

CHRISTMAS-EVE ! The day had been extra chilly, with fre-
quent showers of stinging rain, but toward five o'clock in
the afternoon the weather cleared. The clouds, which ha4

VENDETTA ! 189

been of a dull uniform gray, began to break asunder and
disclose little shining rifts of pale blue and bright gold ; the
sea looked like a wide satin ribbon shaken out and shimmer-
ing with opaline tints. Flower girls trooped forth making
the air musical with their mellow cries of " Fiori ! chi vuol
fiori" and holding up their tempting wares — not bunches of
holly and mistletoe such as are known in England, but roses,
lilies, jonquils, and sweet daffodils. The shops were
brilliant with bouquets and baskets of fruits and flowers ; a
glittering show of etrennes, or gifts to suit all ages and con-
ditions, were set forth in tempting array, from a box of
bonbons costing one franc to a jeweled tiara worth a million,
while in many of the windows were displayed models of the
" Bethlehem," with babe Jesus lying in his manger, for
the benefit of the round-eyed children — who, after staring
fondly at His waxen image for some time, would run off
hand in hand to the nearest church where the usual Christmas
crtche was arranged, and there kneeling down, would begin to
implore their " dear little Jesus," their " own little brother,"
riot to forget them, with a simplicity of belief that was as
touching as it was unaffected.

I am told that in England the principle sight on Christmas*
eve are the shops of the butchers and poulterers hung with the
dead carcases of animals newly slaughtered, in whose mouths
are thrust bunches of prickly holly, at which agreeable specta^
cle the passers-by gape with gluttonous approval. Surely there
is nothing graceful about such a commemoration of the birth
of Christ as this ? nothing picturesque, nothing poetic ? — notk
ing even orthodox, for Christ was born in the East, and the
Orientals are very small eaters, and are particularly sparing in
the use of meat. One wonders what such an unusual display
of vulgar victuals has to do with the coming of the Saviour,
who arrived among us in such poor estate that even a decent
roof was denied to Him. Perhaps, though, the English people
read their gospels in a way of their own, and understood that
the wise men of the East, who are supposed to have brought
the Divine Child symbolic gifts of gold, frankincense, and
myrrh, really brought joints of beef, turkeys, and " plum-
pudding," that vile and indigestible mixture at which an Ital-
ian shrugs his shoulders in visible disgust. There is some-
thing barbaric, I suppose, in the British customs still — some-
thing that reminds one of their ancient condition when the
Romans conquered them — when their supreme idea of enjoy-
ment was to have an ox roasted whole before them while

190 VENDETTA t

they drank " wassail " till they groveled under their own
tables in a worse condition than overfed swine. Coarse and
vulgar plenty is still the leading characteristic at the dinners
of English or American pan'cnus ; they have scarcely any
idea of the refinements that can be imparted to the prosaic
necessity of eating — of the many little graces of the table
that are understood in part by the French, but that perhaps
never reach such absolute perfection of taste and skill as at
the banquets of a cultured and clever Italian noble. Some
of these aie veritable " feasts of the gods," and would do
honor to the fabled Olympus, and such a one I had prepared
for Guido Ferrari as a greeting to him on his return from
Rome — a feast of welcome and — farewell !

All the resources of the hotel at which I stayed had been
brought into requisition. The chef, a famous cordon bleu, had
transferred the work of the usual table d'hote to his underlings,
and had bent the powers of his culinary intelligence solely on
the production of the magnificent dinner I had ordered. The
landlord, in spite of himself, broke into exclamations of won-
der and awe as he listened to and wrote down my commands
for different wines of the rarest kinds and choicest vintages.
The servants rushed hither and thither to obey my various be-
hests, with looks of immense importance ; the head waiter, a
superb official who prided himself on his artistic taste, took the
laying-out of the table under his entire superintendence, and
nothing was talked of or thought of for the time but the
grandeur of my proposed entertainment.

About six o'clock I sent my carriage down to the railway
station to meet Ferrari as I had arranged ; and then, at my
landlord's invitation, I went to survey the stage that was pre-
pared for one important scene of my drama — to see if the
scenery, side-lights, and general effects were all in working
order. To avoid disarranging my own apartments, I had
chosen for my dinner-party a room on the ground-floor of the
hotel, which was often let out for marriage-breakfasts and
other purposes of the like kind ; it was octagonal in shape, not
too large, and I had had it most exquisitely decorated for the
occasion. The walls were hung with draperies of gold-colored
silk and crimson velvet, interspersed here and therewith long
mirrors, which were ornamented with crystal candelabra, in
which twinkled hundreds of lights under rose-tinted glass
shades. At the back of the room, a miniature conservatory
was displayed to view, full of rare ferns and subtly perfumed
exotics, in the center of which a fountain rose and fell with

VENDETTA ! I9t

regular and melodious murmur. Here, later on, a band of
stringed instruments and a choir of boys' voices were to be
stationed, so that sweet music might be heard and felt without
the performers being visible. One, and one only, of the long
French windows of the room was left uncurtained, it was sim-
ply draped with velvet as one drapes a choice picture, and
through it the eyes rested on a perfect view of the Bay of
Naples, white with the wintery moonlight.

The dinner-table, laid for fifteen persons, glittered with
sumptuous appointments of silver, Venetian glass, and the
rarest flowers ; the floor was carpeted with velvet pile, in which
some grains of ambergris had been scattered, so that in walking
the feet sunk, as it were, into a bed of moss rich with the odors
of a thousand spring blossoms. The very chairs wherein my
guests were to seat themselves were of a luxurious shape and
softly stuffed, so that one could lean back in them or recline
at ease — in short, everything was arranged with a lavish
splendor almost befitting the banquet of an eastern monarch,
and yet with such accurate taste that there was no detail one
could have wished omitted.

I was thoroughly satisfied, but as I know what an unwise
plan it is to praise servants too highly for doing well what they
are expressly paid to do, I intimated my satisfaction to my
landlord by a mere careless nod and smile of approval. He,
who waited on my every gesture with abject humility, received
this sign of condescension with as much delight as though it
had come from the king himself, and I could easily see that
the very fact of my showing no enthusiasm at the result of his
labors, made him consider me a greater man than ever. I
now went to my own apartments to don my evening attire ; I
found Vincenzo brushing every speck of dust from my dress-
coat with careful nicety — he had already arranged the other
articles of costume neatly on my bed ready for wear. I un-
locked a dressing-case and took from thence three studs, each
one formed of a single brilliant of rare clearness and luster,
and handed them to him to fix in my shirt-front. While he
was polishing these admiringly on his coat-sleeve I watched
him earnestly — then I suddenly addressed him.

" Vincenzo ! " He started.

" Eccellenza ? "

" To-night you will stand behind my chair and assist in serv-
ing the wine."

"Yes, eccellenza."

" You will," I continued, " attend particularly to Signer

1 9 2 VENDETTA I

Ferrari, who will sit at my right hand. Take care that kis
glass is never empty."

" Yes, eccellenza."

" Whatever may be said or done," I went on, quietly, u you
will show no sign of alarm or surprise. From the commence-
ment of dinner till I tell you to move, remember your place
is fixed by me."

The honest fellow looked a little puzzled, but replied as
before :

" Yes, eccellenza."

I smiled, and advancing, laid my hand on his arm.

" How about the pistols, Vincenzo ? "

"They are cleaned and ready for use, eccellenza," he
replied. " I have placed them in your cabinet."

" That is well ! " I said with a satisfied gesture. " You can
leave me and arrange the salon for the reception of my
friends."

He disappeared, and I busied myself with my toilet, about
which I was for once unusually particular. The conventional
dress-suit is not very becoming, yet there are a few men here
and there who look well in it, and who, in spite of similarity
in attire, will never be mistaken for waiters. Others there are
who, passable in appearance when clad in their ordinary gar-
ments, reach the very acme of plebeianism when they clothe
themselves in the unaccommodating evening-dress. Fortu-
nately, I happened to be one of the former class — the sober
black, the broad white display of starched shirt-front and neat
tie became me, almost too well I thought. It would have been
better for my purposes if I could have feigned an aspect of
greater age and weightier gravity. I had scarcely finished my
toilet when the rumbling of wheels in the court-yard outside
made the hot blood rush to my face, and my heart beat with
feverish excitement. I left my dressing-room, however, with
a composed countenance and calm step, and entered my pri-
vate salon just as its doors were flung open and " Signor
Ferrari " was announced. He entered smiling — his face was
alight with good humor and glad anticipation — he looked
handsomer than usual.

" Eccomi qua /" he cried, seizing my hands enthusiastically
in his own. " My dear conte, I am delighted to see you !
What an excellent fellow you are ! A kind of amiable
Arabian Nights genius, who occupies himself in making
mortals happy. And how are you ? You loojc remarkably
well ! "

VENDETTA! 193

" I can return the compliment," I said, gayly. " You are
more of an Antinous than ever."

He laughed, well pleased, and sat down, drawing off. his
gloves and loosening his traveling overcoat.

" Well, I suppose plenty of cash puts a man in good humor,
and therefore in good condition," he replied. " But my dear
fellow, you are dressed for dinner — quel preux chevalier I I
am positively unfit to be in your company ! You insisted that
I should come to you directly, on my arrival, but I really must
change my apparel. Your man took my valise ; in it are my
dress-clothes — I shall not be ten minutes putting them on."

" Take a glass of wine first," I said, pouring out some of
his favorite Montepulciano. " There is plenty of time. It is
barely seven, and we do not dine till eight. He took the
wine from my hand and smiled. I returned the smile, add-
ing, " It gives me great pleasure to receive you, Ferrari ! I
have been impatient for your return — almost as impatient
as — " He paused in the act of drinking, and his eyes flashed
delightedly.

" As she has ? Piccinina f How I long to see her again!
I swear to you, amico, I should have gone straight to the Villa
Romani had I obeyed my own impulse — but I had promised
you to come here, and, on the whole, the evening will do as
well " — and he laughed wjth a covert meaning in his laugh-
ter— " perhaps better ! "

My hands clinched, but I said with forced gayety :

" Ma certamente / The evening will be much better ! Is it
not Byron who says that women, like stars, look best at night ?
You will find her the same as ever, perfectly well and perfectly
charming. It must be her pure and candid soul that makes
her face so fair ! It may be a relief to your mind to know
that I am the only man she has allowed to visit her during
your absence ! "

" Thank God for that ! " cried Ferrari, devoutly, as he
tossed off his wine. " And now tell me, my dear conte, what
bacchanalians are coming to-night ? Per Dio, after all I am
more in the humor for dinner than love-making ! "

I burst out laughing harshly. " Of course ! Every sensi-
ble man prefers good eating even to good women ! Who are
my guests you ask ? I believe you know them all. First,
there is the Duca Filippo Marina."

" By Heaven ! " interrupted Guido. "An absolute gentle-
man, who by his manner seems to challenge the universe to
disprove his dignity 1 Can he unbend so far as to partake of
'3

l$4 VENDETTA I

food in public ? My dear conte, you should have asked him
that question ! "

" Then," I went on, not heeding this interruption, " Signer
Fraschetti and the Marchese Giulano."

" Giulano drinks deep ! " laughed Ferrari, " and should he
mix his wines, you will find him ready to stab all the waiters
before the dinner is half over."

" In mixing wines," I returned, coolly, " he will but imitate
your example, caro mio"

" Ah, but I can stand it ! " he said. " He cannot ! Few
Neapolitans are like me ! "

I watched him narrowly, and went on with the list of my
invited guests.

" After these, comes the Capitano Luigi Freccia."

" What ! the raging fire-eater ? " exclaimed Guido. " He

who at every second word raps out a pagan or Christian oath,

and cannot for his life tell any difference between the two ! "

" And the illustrious gentleman Crispiano Dulci and

Antonio Biscardi, artists like yourself," I continued.

He frowned slightly — then smiled.

" I wish them good appetites ! Time was when I envied
their skill — now I can afford to be generous. They are wel-
come to the whole field of art as far as I am concerned. I
have said farewell to the brush and palette — I shall never
paint again."

True enough ! I thought, eying the shapely white hand
with which he just then stroked his dark mustache ; the same
hand on which my family diamond ring glittered like a star.
He looked up suddenly.

" Go on, conte ! I am all impatience. Who come next ? "

" More fire-eaters, I suppose you will call them," I an-
swered, " and French fire-eaters, too. Monsieur le Marquis
D'Avencourt, and le beau Capitaine Eugene de Hamal."

Ferrari looked astonished. " Per Bacco ! " he exclaimed.
" Two noted Paris duelists ! Why — what need have you of
such valorous associates ? I confess your choice surprises
me."

" I understood them to be your friends," I said, composed-
ly. "If you remember, you introduced me to them. I know
nothing of the gentlemen beyond that they appear to be
pleasant fellows and good talkers. As for their reputed skill
I am inclined to set that down to a mere rumor, at any rate,
my dinner-table will scarcely provide a field for the display
of swordsmanship."

VENDETTA! 195

Guido laughed. " Well, no ! but these fellows would like
to make it one — why, they will pick a quarrel for the mere
lifting of an eyebrow. And the rest of your company ? "

" Are the inseparable brother sculptors Carlo and Francesco
Respetti, Chevalier Mancini, scientist and man of letters,
Luziano Salustri, poet and musician, and the fascinating
Marchese IppolitoGualdro, whose conversation, as you know,
is more entrancing than the voice of Adelina Patti. I have
only to add," and I smiled half mockingly, " the name of Sig-
nor Guido Ferrari, true friend and loyal lover — and the party
is complete."

" Altro / Fifteen in all including yourself," said Ferrari,
gayly, enumerating them on his fingers. " Per hi madre di
Dio / With such a goodly company and a host who enter-
tains en rot we shall pass a merry time of it. And did you,
amico, actually organize this banquet, merely to welcome back
so unworthy a person as myself ? "

" Solely and entirely for that reason," I replied.

He jumped up from his chair and clapped his two hands
on my shoulders.

" A la bonne heure f But why, in the name of the saints or
the devil, have you taken such a fancy to me ? "

" Why have I taken such a fancy to you ? " I repeated, slow-
ly. " My dear Ferrari, I am surely not alone in my admira-
tion for your high qualities ! Does not every one like you ?
Are you not a universal favorite ? Do you not tell me that
your late friend the Count Romani held you as the dearest to
him in the world after his wife ? Ebbene ! Why underrate
yourself ? "

He let his hands fall slowly from my shoulders and a look
of pain contracted his features. After a little silence he said :

" Fabio again ! How his name and memory haunt me ! I
told you he was a fool — it was part of his folly that he loved
me too well — perhaps. Do you know I have thought of him
very much lately ? "

" Indeed ? " and I feigned to be absorbed in fixing a star-
like japonica in my button-hole. " How is that ? "

A grave and meditative look softened the usually defiant
brilliancy of his eyes.

"I saw my uncle die," he continued, speaking in a low
tone. " He was an old man and had very little strength left,
— yet his battle with death was horrible — horrible ! I see him
yet — his yellow convulsed face — his twisted limbs — his claw-
iike hands tearing at the ^mpty air — then the ghastly grim and

19* I'ENDETlAt

dropped jaw — the wide-open glazed eyes — pshaw ! it sickened
me!"

" Well, well ! " I said in a soothing way, still busying my-
self with the arrangement of my button-hole, and secretly
wondering what new emotion was at work in the volatile
mind of my victim. " No doubt it was distressing to witness
— but you could not have been very sorry — he was an old
man, and, though it is a platitude not worth repeating — we
must all die."

" Sorry ! " exclaimed Ferrari, talking almost more to him-
self than to me. " I was glad ! He was an old scoundrel,
deeply dyed in every sort of social villainy. No — I was not
sorry, only as I watched him in his frantic struggle, fighting
furiously for each fresh gasp of breath — I thought — I know
not why — of Fabio."

Profoundly astonished, but concealing my astonishment
under an air of indifference, I began to laugh.

" Upon my word, Ferrari — pardon me for saying so, but
the air of Rome seems to have somewhat obscured your
mind ! I confess I cannot follow your meaning."

He sighed uneasily. " I dare say not ! I scarce can
follow it myself. But if it was so hard for an old man to
writhe himself out of life, what must it have been for Fabic .
We were students together ; we used to walk with our arm
round each other's necks like school-girls, and he was young
and full of vitality — physically stronger, too, than I am. He
must have battled for life with every nerve and sinew stretched
to almost breaking." He stopped and shuddered. " By
Heaven ! death should be made easier for us ! It is a fright-
ful thing ! "

A contemptuous pity arose in me. Was he coward as well
as traitor ? I touched him lightly on the arm.

" Excuse me, my young friend, if I say frankly that your
dismal conversation is slightly fatiguing. I cannot accept it
as a suitable preparation for dinner ! And permit me to re-
mind you that you have still to dress."

The gentle satire of my tone made him look up and smile.
His face cleared, and he passed his hand over his forehead,
as though he swept it free of some unpleasant thought.

" I believe I am nervous," he said with a half laugh. " For
the last few hours I have had all sorts of uncomfortable pre-
sentiments and forebodings."

" No wonder 1" I returned carelessly, " with such a spectacle
as you have described before the eyes of your memory. The

VENDETTA ! 197

Eternal City savors somewhat disagreeably of graves. Shake
the dust of the Caesars from your feet, and enjoy your life,
while it lasts ! "

" Excellent advice ! " he said, smiling, " and not difficult
to follow. Now to attire for the festival. Have I your per-
mission ? "

I touched the bell which summoned Vincenzo, and bade
him wait on Signer Ferrari's orders. Guido disappeared
under his escort, giving me a laughing nod of salutation as
he left the room. I watched his retiring figure with a strange
pitifulness — the first emotion of the kind that had awakened
in me for him since I learned his treachery. His allusion to
that time when we had been students together — when we
had walked with arms round each other's necks " like school-
girls," as he said, had touched me more closely than I cared
to realize. It was true, we had been happy then- -two care-
less youths with all the world like an untrodden race-course
before us. She had not then darkened the heaven of our
confidence ; she had not come with her false fair face to
make of me a blind, doting madman, and to transform him
into a liar and hypocrite. It was all her fault, all the misery
and horror ; she was the blight on our lives ; she merited the
heaviest punishment, and she would receive it. Yet, would
to God we had neither of us ever seen her ! Her beauty,
like a swor4. had severed the bonds of friendship that after
all, when ;t does exist between two men, is better and braver
than the love of woman. However, all regrets were unavail-
ing now • the evil was done, and there was no undoing it.
I had little time left me for reflection ; each moment that
passed brought me nearer to the end I had planned and
foreseen.

CHAPTER XXIII.

AT about a quarter to eight my guests began to arrive, and
one by one they all came in save two — the brothers Respetti.
While we were awaiting them, Ferrari entered in evening-dress,
with the conscious air of a handsome man who knows he is
looking- his best. I readily admitted his charm of manner;
had I not myself been subjugated and fascinated by it in the
old happy, foolish days ? He was enthusiastically greeted and
welcomed back to Naples by all the gentlemen assembled,,
many of whom were his own particular friends. They em-

198 VENDETTA!

braced him in the impressionable style common to Italians,
with the exception of the stately Ducadi Marina, who merely
bowed courteously, and inquired if certain families of dis-
tinction whom he named had yet arrived in Rome for the
winter season. Ferrari was engaged in replying to these
questions with his usual grace and ease and fluency, when a
note was brought to me marked " Immediate." It contained
a profuse and elegantly worded apology from Carlo Respetti,
who regretted deeply that an unforeseen matter of business
would prevent himself and his brother from having the in-
estimable honor and delight of dining with me that evening.
I thereupon rang my bell as a sign that the dinner need
no longer be delayed ; and, turning to those assembled, I
announced to them the unavoidable absence of two of the
party.

" A pity Francesco could not have come," said Captain
Freccia, twirling the ends of his long mustachios. " He
loves good wine, and, better still, good company."

" Caro Capitano ! " broke in the musical voice of the Mar-
chese Gualduo, " you know that our Francesco goes nowhere
without his beloved Carlo. Carlo cannot come — altro !
Francesco will not. Would that all men were such brothers ! "

"If they were," laughed Luziano Salustri, rising from the
piano where he had been playing softly to himself, " half the
world would be thrown out of employment. You, for in-
stance," turning to the Marquis ]>Avencourt, "would scarce
know what to do with your time."

The marquis smiled and waved his hand with a depreca-
tory gesture — that hand, by the by, was remarkably small
and delicately formed — it looked almost fragile. Yet the
strength and suppleness of D'Avencourt's wrist was reputed
to be prodigious by those who had seen him handle the
sword, whether in play or grim earnest.

" It is an impossible dream," he said, in reply to the re-
marks of Gualdro and Salustri, " that idea ot all men frater-
nizing together in one common pig-sty of equality. Look at
the differences of caste ! Birth, breeding and education
make of man that high-mettled, sensitive animal known as
gentleman, and not all the socialistic theories in the world can
force him down on the same level with the rough boor,
whose flat nose and coarse features announce him as plebeian
even before one hears the tone of his voice. We cannot
help these things. I do not think we would help them evea
if we could."

VENDETTA! 199

"You are quite right," said Ferrari. "You cannot put
race-horses to draw the plow. I have always imagined that
the first quarrel — the Cain and Abel affair — must have oc-
curred through some difference of caste as well as jeal-
ousy— for instance, perhaps Abel was a negro and Cain a
white man, or vice versa ; which would account for the antip-
athy existing between the races to this day."

The Duke di Marina coughed a stately cough, and
shrugged his shoulders.

" That first quarrel," he said, "as related in the Bible, was
exceedingly vulgar. It must have been a kind of prize-fight.
Cen'itait pas fin"

Gualdro laughed delightedly.

" So like you, Marina ! " he exclaimed, " to say that ! I
sympathize with your sentiments ! Fancy the butcher Abel
piling up his reeking carcasses and setting them on fire,
while on the other side stood Cain the green-grocer frizzling
his cabbages, turnips, carrots, and other vegetable matter !
What a spectacle ! The gods of Olympus would have sick-
ened at it ! However, the Jewish Deity, or rather, the well-
fed priest who represented him, showed his good taste in the
matter ; I myself prefer the smell of roast meat to the rather
disagreeable odor of scorching vegetables ! "

We laughed — and at that moment the door was thrown
open, and the head-waiter announced in solemn tones befit-
ting his dignity—

" Le diner de Monsieur le Conte est servi ! "

I at once led the way to the banqueting-room — my guests
followed gayly, talking and jesting among themselves. They
were all in high good humor, none of them had as yet noticed
the fatal blank caused by the absence of the brothers Re-
spetti. I had — for the number of my guests was now thirteen
instead of fifteen. Thirteen at table ! I wondered if any of
the company were superstitious ? Ferrari was not, I knew —
unless his nerves had been latterly shaken by witnessing the
death of his uncle. At any rate, I resolved to say nothing
that could attract the attention of my guests to the ill-omened
circumstance ; if any one should notice it, it would be easy to
make light of it and of all similar superstitions. I myself
was the one most affected by it — it had for me a curious and
fatal significance. I was so occupied with the consideration
of it that I scarcely attended to the words addressed to me
by the Duke di Marina, who, walking beside me, seemed dis-
posed to converse with more familiarity than was his usual

200 VENDETTA !

custom. We reached the door of the dining-room ; which at
our approach was thrown wide open, and delicious strains of
music met our ears as we entered. Low murmurs of aston-
ishment and admiration broke from all the gentlemen as
they viewed the sumptuous scene before them. I pretended
not to hear their eulogies, as I took my seat at the head of
the table, with Guido Ferrari on my right and the Duke di
Marina on my left. The music sounded louder and more
triumphant, and while all the company were seating them-
selves in the places assigned to them, a choir of young fresh
voices broke forth into a Neapolitan " madrigale " — which as
far as I can translate it ran as follows :

" Welcome the festal hour !
Pour the red wine into cups of gold !
Health to the men who are strong and bold I

Welcome the festal hour !
Waken the echoes with riotous mirth —
Cease to remember the sorrows of earth

In the joys of the festal hour !
Wine is the monarch of laughter and light,
Death himself shall be merry to-night !

Hail to the festal hour ! "

An enthusiastic clapping of hands rewarded this effort on
the part of the unseen vocalists, and the music having ceased,
conversation became general.

" By heaven ! " exclaimed Ferrari, " if this Olympian
carouse is meant as a welcome to me, amico, all I can say is
that I do not deserve it. Why, it is more fit for the welcome
of one king to his neighbor sovereign ! "

"JEbbenef" I said. "Are there any better kings than
honest men ? Let us hope we are thus far worthy of each
other's esteem."

He flashed a bright look of gratitude upon me and was
silent, listening to the choice and complimentary phrases
uttered by the Duke di Marina concerning the exquisite taste
displayed in the arrangement of the table.

" You have no doubt traveled much in the East, conte,"
said this nobleman. " Your banquet reminds me of an
Oriental romance I once read, called * Vathek.' "

" Exactly ! " exclaimed Guido, " I think Oliva must be
Vathek himself ! "

" Scarcely ! " I said, smiling coldly. " I lay no claim to
supernatural experiences. The realities of life are sufficient-
ly wonderful for me."

VEND ETTA I 201

Antonio Biscardi the painter, a refined, gentle-featured
man, looked toward us and said modestly :

" I think you are right, conte. The beauties of nature
and of humanity are so varied and profound that were it not
for the inextinguishable longing after immortality which has
been placed in every one of us, I think we should be per-
fectly satisfied with this world as it is."

" You speak like an artist and a man of even tempera-
ment," broke in the Marchese Gualdro, who bad finished his
soup quickly in order to be able to talk — talking being his
chief delight. " For me, I am never contented. I never
have enough of anything ! That is my nature. When I see
lovely flowers, I wish more of them — when I behold a fine
sunset, I desire many more such sunsets — when I look upon
a lovely woman "

" You would have lovely women ad infinitum / " laughed the
French Capitaine de Harnal. "jEn verite, Gualdrn, you
should have been a Turk T '"'

" And why not ? " aerranded Gualdro. " The Turks are
very sensible people — they know how to make coffee better
than we do. And what more fascinating than a harem ? .It
must be like a fragrant icct-house, where one is free to wander
every day, sometimes gathering a gorgeous lily, sometimes a-
simple violet — sometimes "

" A thorn ? " suggested Salustri.

" Well, perhaps ! " laughed the Marchese. " Yet on*
would run the risk of that for the sake of a perfect rose."

Chevalier Mancini, who wore in his button-hole the decora-
tion of the Legion d'Honneur, looked up — he was a thin man
with keen eyes and a shrewd face which, though at a first
glance appeared stern, could at the least provocation break
up into a thousand little wrinkles of laughter.

" There is undoubtedly something entrainan* about the
idea," he observed, in his methodical way. " I have always
fancied that marriage as we arrange it is a great mistake."

"And that is why you have never tried it?" queried
Feirari, looking amused.

" Certissimamente ! " and the chevalier's grim countenance
began to work with satirical humor. " I have resolved that
I will never be bound over by the law to kiss only one woman,
As matters stand, I can kiss them all if I like."

A shout of merriment and cries of " Oh ! oh ! " greeted this
remark, which Ferrari, hovjver, did not seem inclined
in good part.

*02 VENDETTA!

" All ? " he said, with a dubious air. " You mean all ex-
cept the married ones ? "

The chevalier put on his spectacles, and surveyed him with
a sort of comic severity.

" When I said all, I meant all," he returned— " the married
ones in particular. They, poor things, need such attentions
— and often invite them — why not ? Their husbands have
most likely ceased to be amorous after the first months of
marriage."

I burst out laughing. " You are right, Mancini," I said ;
" and even if the husbands are fools enough to continue their
gallantries they deserve to be duped — and they generally
are! Come, amico /" I added, turning to Ferrari, "those
are your own sentiments — you have often declared them to
me."

He smiled uncomfortably, and his brows contracted. I
could easily perceive that he was annoyed. To change the
tone of the conversation I gave a signal for the music to
recommence, and instantly the melody of a slow, voluptuous
Hungarian waltz-measure floated through the room. The
dinner was now fairly on its way ; the appetites of my guests
were stimulated and tempted by the choicest and most savory
viands, prepared with all the taste and intelligence a first-rate
<://£/" can bestow on his work, and good wine flowed freely.

Vincenzo obediently following my instructions, stood be-
hind my chair, and seldom moved except to refill Ferrari's
glass, and occasionally to proffer some fresh vintage to the
Duke di Marina. He, however, was an abstemious and care-
ful man, and followed the good example shown by the wisest
Italians, who never mix their wines. He remained faithful
to the first beverage he had selected — a specially fine Chianti,
of which he partook freely without its causing the slightest
flush to appear on his pale aristocratic features. Its warm
and mellow flavor did but brighten his eyes and loosen his
tongue, inasmuch that he became almost as elegant a talker
as the Marchese Gualdro. This latter, who scarce had a scudo
to call his own, and who dined sumptuously every day at
other people's expense for the sake of the pleasure his com-
pany afforded, was by this time entertaining every one near
him by the most sparkling stories and witty pleasantries.

The merriment increased as the various courses were
served ; shouts of laughter frequently interrupted the loud
buzz of conversation, mingling with the clinking of glasses
and clattering of porcelain. Every now and then might be

VENDETTA! 203

heard the smooth voice of Captain Freccia rolling out his
favorite oaths with the sonority and expression of a primo
tenor e ; sometimes the elegant French of the Marquis D'Aven-
court, with his high, sing-song Parisian accent, rang out above
the voices of the others ; and again, the choice Tuscan of the
poet Luziano Salustri rolled forth in melodious cadence as
though he were chanting lines from Dante or Ariosto, instead
of talking lightly on indifferent matters. I accepted my share
in the universal hilarity, thongh I principally divided my con-
versation between Ferrari and the duke, paying to both, but
specially to Ferrari, that absolute attention which is the
greatest compliment a host can bestow on those whom he
undertakes to entertain.

We had reached that stage of the banquet when the game was
about to be served — the invisible choir of boys' voices had just
completed an enchanting stornello with an accompaniment
of mandolines — when a stillness, strange and unaccountable,
fell upon the company — a pause — an ominous hush, as though
some person supreme in authority had suddenly entered the
room and commanded " Silence ! " No one seemed disposed
to speak or to move, the very footsteps of the waiters were
muffled in the velvet pile of the carpets — no sound was heard
but the measured plash of the fountain that played among
the ferns and flowers. The moon, shining frostily white
through the one uncurtained window, cast a long pale green
ray, like the extended arm of an appealing ghost, against one
side of the velvet hangings — a spectral effect which was
heightened by the contrast of the garish glitter of the waxen
tapers. Each man looked at the other with a sort of uncom-
fortable embarrassment, and somehow, though I moved my
lips in an endeavor to speak and thus break the spell, I was
at a loss, and could find no language suitable to the moment.
Ferrari toyed with his wine-glass mechanically — the duke
appeared absorbed in arranging the crumbs beside his plate
into little methodical patterns ; the stillness seemed to last
so long that it was like a suffocating heaviness in the air.
Suddenly Vincenzo, in his office of chief butler, drew the cork
of a champagne-bottle with a loud-sounding pop ! We all
started as though a pistol had been fired in our ears, and
the Marchese Gualdro burst out laughing.

" Corpo di Baceo /" he cried. " At last you have awakened
from sleep ! Were you all struck dumb, amici, that you
stared at the table-cloth so persistently and with such admi-
rable gravity? May Saint Anthony and his pig preserve me,

204 VENDETTA !

but for the time I fancied I was attending a banquet on the
.wrong side of the Styx, and that you, my present companions,
were all dead men ! "

" And that idea made you also hold your tongue, which is
quite an unaccountable miracle in its way," laughed Luziano
Salustri. " Have you never heard the pretty legend that
attaches to such an occurrence as a sudden silence in the midst
of high festivity ? An angel enters, bestowing his benedic-
tion as he passes through."

" That story is more ancient than the church," said Cheva-
lier Mancini. " It is an exploded theory — for we have ceased
to believe in angels — we call them women instead."

"Bravo, man vieux gaillard ! " cried Captain de Hamal.
" Your sentiments are the same as mine, with a very trifling
difference. You believe women to be angels — I know them
to be devils — mas il rfy agu'un pas entre les deux? We will
not quarrel over a word — a votre sante, mon cher /"

And he drained his glass, nodding to Mancini, who fol-
lowed his example.

" Perhaps," said the smooth, slow voice of Captain Fr^c-
cia, " our silence was caused by the instinctive conscious-
ness of something wrong with our party — a little inequality
— which I dare say our noble host has not thought it worth
while to mention."

Every head was turned in his direction. " What do you
mean ? " " What inequality ? " " Explain yourself ! "chorused
several voices.

" Really it is a mere nothing," answered Freccia, lazily,
as he surveyed with the admiring air of a gourmet the dainty
portion of pheasant just placed before him. " I assure you,
only the uneducated would care two scudi about such a cir-
cumstance. The excellent brothers Respetti are to blame —
their absence to-night has caused — but why should I disturb
your equanimity ? / am not superstitious — ma, chi sa ? —
some of you may be."

" I see what you mean ! " interrupted Salustri, quickly.
" We are thirteen at table ! "

CHAPTER XXIV.

AT this announcement my guests looked furtively at each
other, and I could see they were counting up the fatal num-
^r for themselves. They were undeniably clever, cultivated

VENDETTA! 205

men of the world, but the superstitious element was in their
blood, and all, with the exception perhaps of Freccia and the
ever-cool Marquis D'Avencourt, were evidently rendered un-
easy by the fact now discovered. On Ferrari it had a curi-
ous effect — he started violently and his face flushed. " JDia-
volo /" he muttered, under his breath, and seizing his never-
empty glass, he swallowed its contents thirstily and quickly
at one gulp as though attacked by fever, and pushed away
his plate with a hand that trembled nervously. I, mean
while, raised my voice and addressed my guests cheerfully !
" Our distinguished friend Salustri is perfectly right, gen-
tlemen. I myself noticed the discrepancy in our number
some time ago — but I knew that you were all advanced think-
ers, who had long since liberated yourselves from the tram-
mels .of superstitious observances, which are the result of
priestcraft, and are now left solely to the vulgar. Therefore
I said nothing. The silly notion of any misfortune attend-
ing the number thirteen arose, as you are aware, out of the
story of the Last Supper, and children and women may pos-
sibly still give credence to the fancy that one out of thirteen
at table must be a traitor and doomed to die. But we men
know better. None of us here to-night have reason to put
ourselves in the position of a Christ or a Judas — we are all
good friends and boon companions, and I cannot suppose
for a moment that this little cloud can possibly affect you
seriously. Remember also that this is Christmas-eve, and
that according to the world's greatest poet, Shakespeare,

" « Then no planet strikes,

No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm,
So hallowed and so gracious is the time.' "

A murmur of applause and a hearty clapping of hands re--
warded this little speech, and the Marchese Gualdro sprung
to his feet —

" By Heaven ! " he exclaimed, " we are not a party of ter-
rified old women to shiver on the edge of a worn-out omen !
Fill your glasses, signori / More wine, garden ! Per bacco !
if Judas Iscariot himself had such a feast as ours before he
hanged himself, he was not much to be pitied ! Hola amicil
To the health of our noble host, Conte Cesare Oliva ! "

He waved his glass in the air three times — every one fol-
lowed his example and drank the toast with enthusiasm. I
bowed my thanks and acknowledgments — and the supersti-
tious dread which at first had undoubtedly seized the com-

2o6 VENDETTA!

pany passed away quickly — the talking, the merriment, and
laughter were resumed, and soon it seemed as though the
untoward circumstance were entirely forgotten. Only Guido
Ferrari seemed still somewhat disturbed in his mind — but
even his uneasiness dissipated itself by degrees, and heated
by the quantity of wine he had taken, he began to talk with
boastful braggartism of his many successful gallantries, and
related his most questionable anecdotes in such a manner as
to cause some haughty astonishment in the mind of the Duke
di Marina, who eyed him from time to time with ill-disguised
impatience that bordered on contempt. I, on the contrary,
listened to everything he said with urbane courtesy — I hu-
mored him and drew him out as much as possible — I smiled
complacently at his poor jokes and vulgar witticisms — and
when he said something that was more than usually outrage-
ous, I contented myself with a benevolent shake of my head,
and the mild remark :

" Ah ! young blood ! young blood ! " uttered in a bland
sotto-voce.

The dessert was now served, and with it came the costly
wines which I had ordered to be kept back till then. Price-
less " Chateau Yquem," " Clos Vougeot," of the rarest vin-
tages, choice " Valpulcello " and an exceedingly superb
" Lacrima Cristi " — one after the other, these were tasted,
criticised, and heartily appreciated. There was also a very
unique brand of champagne costing nearly forty francs a
bottle, which was sparkling and mellow to the palate, but
fiery in quality. This particular beverage was so seductive
in flavor that every one partook of it freely, with the result
that the most discreet among the party now became the most
uproarious, Antonio Biscardi, the quiet and unobtrusive
painter, together with his fellow-student, Crispiano Dulci,
usually the shyest of young men, suddenly grew excited, and
uttered blatant nothings concerning their art. Captain
Freccia argued the niceties of sword-play with the Marquis
D'Avencourt, both speakers illustrating their various points
by thrusting their dessert-knives skillfully into the pulpy
bodies of the peaches they had on their plates. Luziano
Salustri lay back at ease in his chair, his classic head reclin-
ing on the velvet cushions, and recited in low and measured
tones one of his own poems, caring little or nothing whether
his neighbors attended to him or not. The glib tongue of
the Marchese Gualdro ran on smoothly and incessantly,
though he frequently lost the thread of his anecdotes and be-

VENDETTA!

407

came involved in a maze of contradictory assertions. The
rather large nose of the Chevalier Mancini reddened visibly
as he laughed joyously to himself at nothing in particular —
in short, the table had become a glittering whirlpool of ex-
citement and feverish folly, which at a mere touch, or word
out of season, might rise to a raging storm of frothy dissen-
sion. The Duke di Marina and myself alone of aH the com-
pany were composed as usual — he had resisted the champagne,
and as for me, I had let all the splendid wines go past me,
and had not taken more than two glasses of a mild Chianti.

I glanced keenly round the riotous board — I noted the
flushed faces and rapid gesticulations of my guests, and
listened to the Babel of conflicting tongues. I drew a long
breath as I looked — I calculated that in two or three minutes
at the very least I might throw down the trump card I had
held so patiently in my hand all the evening.

I took a close observation of Ferrari. He had edged his
chair a little away from mine, and was talking confidentially
to his neighbor, Captain de Hamal — his utterance was low
and thick, but yet I distinctly heard him enumerating in
somewhat coarse language the exterior charms of a woman —
what woman I did not stop to consider — the burning idea
struck me that he was describing the physical perfections of
my wife to this De Hamal, a mere spadaccino, for whom there
was nothing sacred in heaven or earth. My blood rapid-
ly heated itself to boiling point — to this day I remember how
it throbbed in my temples, leaving my hands and feet icy
cold. I rose in my seat, and tapped on the table to call for
silence and attention — but for some time the noise of argu-
ment and the clatter of tongues were so great that I could
not make myself heard. The duke endeavored to second my
efforts, but in vain. At last Ferrari's notice was attracted —
he turned round, and seizing a dessert knife beat with it on
the table and on his own plate so noisily and persistently
that the loud laughter and conversation ceased suddenly.
The moment had come — I raised my head, fixed my spec-
tacles more firmly over my eyes, and spoke in distinct and
steady tones, first of all stealing a covert glance toward
Ferrari. He had sunk back again lazily in his chair and
was lighting a cigarette.

" My friends," I said, meeting with a smile the inquiring
looks that were directed toward me, " I have presumed to
interrupt your mirth for a moment, not to restrain it, but
rather to give it a fresh impetus. I asked you all here to-

ao8 VENDETTA /

night, as you know, to honor me by your presence and t«
give a welcome to our mutual friend, Signor Guido Ferrari."
Here I was interrupted by a loud clapping of hands and
ejaculations of approval, while Ferrari himself murmured
affably between two puffs of his cigarette. " Tropp' onore,
amico, tropp' onore /" I resumed, "This young and accom-
plished gentleman, who is, I believe, a favorite with you all,
has been compelled through domestic affairs to absent him-
self from our circle for the past few weeks, and I think he
must himself be aware how much we have missed his pleas-
ant company. It will, however, be agreeable to you, as it
has been for me, to know that he has returned to Naples a
richer man than when he left it — that fortune has done him
justice, and that with the possession of abundant wealth
he is at last called upon to enjoy the reward due to his
merits ! "

Here there was more clapping of hands and exclamations
of pleasure, while those who were seated near Ferrari raised
their glasses and drank to his health with congratulations, all
of which courtesies he acknowledged by a nonchalant, self-
satisfied bow. I glanced at him again — how tranquil he
looked ! — reclining among the crimson cushions of his chair,
a brimming glass of champagne beside him, the cigarette be-
tween his lips, and his handsome face slightly upturned,
though his eyes rested half drowsily on the uncurtained
window through which the Bay of Naples was seen glittering
in the moonlight.

I continued : " It was, gentlemen, that you might welcome
and congratulate Signor Ferrari as you have done, that I as-
sembled you here to-night — or rather, let me say it was
partly the object of our present festivity — but there is yet
another reason which I shall now have the pleasure of ex-
plaining to you — a reason which, as it concerns myself and
my immediate happiness, will, I feel confident, secure your
sympathy and good wishes."

This time every one was silent, intently following my words.

" What I am about to say," I went on, calmly, " may very
possibly surprise you. I have been known to you as a man
of few words, and, I fear, of abrupt and brusque manners " —
cries of " No, no ! " mingled with various complimentary as-
surances reached my ears from all sides of the table. I
bowed with a gratified air, and when silence was restored —
"At any rate you would not think me precisely the sort of man
fco take a lady's fancy." A look of wonder and curiosity was

VENDETTA i 209

now exchanged among my guests. Ferrari took his cigarette
out of his mouth and stared at me in blank astonishment.

" No," I went on, meditatively, " old as I am, and a half-
blind invalid besides, it seems incredible that any woman
should care to look at me more than twice en passant. But
I have met — let me say with the Chevalier Mancini — an angel
— who has found me not displeasing to her, and — in short —
I am going to marry ! "

There was a pause. Ferrari raised himself slightly from
his reclining position and seemed about to speak, but ap-
parently changing his mind he remained silent — his face had
somewhat paled. The momentary hesitation among my
guests passed quickly. All present, except Guido, broke out
into a chorus of congratulations, mingled with good-humored
jesting and laughter.

" Say farewell to jollity, conte ! " cried Chevalier Mancini ;
"once drawn along by the rustling music of a woman's gown,
no more such feasts as we have had to-night !"

And he shook his head with tipsy melancholy.

" By all the gods ! " exclaimed Gualdro, " your news has
surprised me ! I should have thought you were the last man
to give up liberty for the sake of a woman. One woman, too !
Why, man, freedom could give you twenty ! "

" Ah ! " murmured Salustri, softly and sentimentally, " but
the one perfect pearl — the one flawless diamond "

" Bah ! Salustri, caro mio, you are half asleep ! " returned
Gualdro. " 'Tis the wine talks, not you. Thou art con-
quered by the bottle, amico. You, the darling of all the
women in Naples, to talk of one! Buona notte, bambino /"

I still maintained my standing position, leaning my two
hands on the table before me.

" What our worthy Gualdro says," I went on, " is perfectly
true. I have been noted for my antipathy to the fair sex. I
know it. But when one of the loveliest among women comes
out of her way to tempt me — when she herself displays the
matchless store of her countless fascinations for my attrac-
tion— when she honors me by special favors and makes me
plainly aware that I am not too presumptuous in venturing to
aspire to her hand in marriage — what can I do but accept with
a good grace the fortune thrown to me by Providence ? 1
should be the most ungrateful of men were I to refuse so
precious a gift from Heaven, and I confess I feel no inclina-
tion to reject what I consider to be the certainty of happi-
ness. I therefore ask you all to fill your glasses, and do me
14

VENDETTA!

the favor to drink to the health and happiness of my future
bride/'

Gualdro sprung erect, his glass held high in the air ; every
man followed his example. Ferrari rose to his feet with
some unsteadiness, while the hand that held his full cham-
pagne glass trembled.

The Duke di Marina, with a courteous gesture, addressed
me : " You will, of course, honor us by disclosing the name
of the fair lady whom we are prepared to toast with all be-
fitting reverence ? "

" I was about to ask the same question," said Ferrari, in
hoarse accents — his lips were dry, and he appeared to have
some difficulty in speaking. " Possibly we are not acquainted
with her ? "

" On the contrary," I returned, eying him steadily with a
cool smile. " You all know her name well ! Jllustrissimi
Signori /" and my voice rang out clearly — to the health of
my betrothed wife, the Contessa Romani!"

" Liar ! " shouted Ferrari — and with all a madman's fury
he dashed his brimming glass of champagne full in my face !
In a second the wildest scene of confusion ensued. Every
man left his place at table and surrounded us. I stood erect
and perfectly calm — wiping with my handkerchief the little
runlets of wine that dripped from my clothing — the glass had
fallen at my feet, striking the table as it fell and splitting
itself to atoms.

"Are you drunk or mad, Ferrari ? " cried Captain de Hamal,
seizing him by the arm — " do you know what you have done ? "

Ferrari glared about him like a tiger at bay — his face was
flushed and swollen like that of a man in apoplexy — the
veins in his forehead stood out like knotted cords — his breath
came and went hard as though he had been running. He
turned his rolling eyes upon me. " Damn you ! " he muttered
through his clinched teeth — then suddenly raising his voice
to a positive shriek, he cried, " I will have your blood if I
have to tear your heart for it ! " — and he made an effort to
spring upon me. The Marquis D'Avencourt quietly caught
his other arm and held it as in a vise.

"Not so fast, not so fast, mon cher /" he said, coolly.
" We are not murderers, we ! What devil possesses you,
that you offer such unwarrantable insult to our host ? "

"Ask him!" replied Ferrari, fiercely, struggling to release
himself from the grasp of the two Frenchmen — " he knows
well enough ! Ask him / "

VENDETTA! 2 it

All eyes were turned inquiringly upon me. I was silent.

"The noble conte is really not bound to give any explana-
tion," remarked Captain Freccia — " even admitting he were
able to do so."

" I assure you, my friends," I said, " I am ignorant of the
cause of this fracas, except that this young gentleman had
pretensions himself to the hand of the lady whose name
affects him so seriously ! "

For a moment I thought Ferrari would have choked.

" Pretensions — pretensions ! " he gasped. " Gran Dio !
Hear him ! — hear the miserable scoundrel ! "

"Ah, basta!" exclaimed Chevalier Mancini, scornfully —
" Is that all ? A mere bagatelle f Ferrari, you were wont to
be more sensible ! What ! quarrel with an excellent friend
for the sake of a woman who happens to prefer him to you !
Ma che ! Women are plentiful — friends are few."

" If," I resunted, still methodically wiping the stains of
wine from my coat and vest — " if Signer Ferrari's extraordi-
nary display of temper is a mere outcome of natural disap-
pointment, I am willing to excuse it. He is young and hot-
blooded — let him apologize, and I shall freely pardon
him."

" By my faith ! " said the Duke di Marina with indignation,
" such generosity is unheard of, conte ! Permit me to re-
mark that it is altogether exceptional, after such ungentle-
manly conduct."

Ferrari looked from one to the other in silent fury. His
face had grown pale as death. He wrenched himself from
the grasp of D'Avencourt and De Hamal.

" Fools ! let me go ! " he said, savagely. " None of you
are on my side — I see that ! " He stepped to the table,
poured out a glass of water and drank it off. He then turned
and faced me — his head thrown back, his eyes blazing with
wrath and pain.

" Liar ! " he cried again, " double-faced accursed liar !
You have stolen her — you have fooled me — but, by G — d,
you shall pay for it with your life ! "

" Willingly ! " I said, with a mocking smile, restraining by
a gestifre the hasty exclamations of those around me who re-
sented this fresh attack — "most willingly, caro signer ! But
excuse me if I fail to see wherein you consider yourself
wronged. The lady who is now my fiancee has not the
slightest affection for you — she told me so herself. Had she
entertained any such feelings I might have withdrawn mj

812 VENDETTA!

proposals — but as matters stand, what harm have I done
you ? "

A chorus of indignant voices interrupted me. " Shame on
you, Ferrari ! " cried Gualdro. " The count speaks like a
gentleman and a man of honor. Were I in his place you
should have had no word of explanation whatever. I would
not have condescended to parley with you — by Heaven I
would not ! "

" Nor I ! " said the duke, stiffly.

" Nor I ! " said Mancini.

" Surely," said Luziana Salustri, " Ferrari will make the
amende honorable"

There was a pause. Each man looked at Ferrari with
some anxiety. The suddenness of the quarrel had sobered
the whole party more effectually than a cold douche. Ferrari's
face grew more and more livid till his very lips turned a
ghastly blue — he laughed aloud in bitter scorn. Then, walk-
ing steadily up to me, with his eyes full of baffled vindictive-
ness, he said, in a low clear tone :

" You say that — you say she never cared for me — you !
and /am to apologize to you ! Thief, coward, traitor — take
that for my apology ! " Aud he struck me across the mouth
with his bare hand so fiercely that the diamond ring he wore
(my diamond ring) cut my flesh and slightly drew blood. A
shout of anger broke from all present ! I turned to the
Marquis D'Avencourt.

" There can be but one answer to this," I said, with in-
different coldness. " Signer Ferrari has brought it on him-
self. Marquis, will you do me the honor to arrange the
affair ? "

The marquis bowed, " I shall be most happy ! "

" Ferrari glared about him for a moment and then said,
" Freccia, you will second me ? "

Captain Freccia shrugged his shoulders. " You must posi-
tively excuse me," he said. " My conscience will not permit
me to take up such a remarkably wrong cause as yours, caro
mio ! I shall be pleased to act with D'Avencourt for the
count, if he will permit me." The marquis received him with
cordiality, and the two engaged in earnest conversation.
Ferrari next proffered his request to his quondam friend De
Hamal, who also declined to second him, as did every one
among the company. He bit his lips in mortification and
wounded vanity, and seemed hesitating what to do next,
when the marquis approached him with frigid courtesy and

VENDETTA!

213

appeared to offer him some suggestions in a low tone of
voice— for after a few minutes' converse, Ferrari suddenly
turned on his heel and abruptly left the room without another
word or look. At the same instant I touched Vincenzo, who,
obedient to his orders, had remained an impassive but evi-
dently astonished spectator of all that had passed, and whis-
pered— " Follow that man and do not let him see you." He
obeyed so instantly that the door had scarcely closed upon
Ferrari when Vincenzo had also disappeared. The Marquis
D'Avencourt now came up to me.

" Your opponent has gone to find two seconds," he said.
" As you perceived, no one here would or could support him.
It is a most unfortunate affair."

" Most unfortunate," chorused De Hamal, who, though not
in it, appeared thoroughly to enjoy it.

" For my part," said the Duke di Marina, " I wonder how
our noble friend could be so lenient with such a young puppy.
His conceit is insufferable ! "

Others around me made similar remarks, and were evi-
dently anxious to show how entirely they were on my side.
I however remained silent, lest they should see how gratified
I was at the success of my scheme. The marquis addressed
me again :

" While awaiting the other seconds, who are to find us
here," he said, with a glance at his watch, " Freccia and I
have arranged a few preliminaries. It is now nearly midnight.
We propose that the affair should come off in the morning at
six precisely. Will that suit you ? "

I bowed.

" As the insulted party you have the choice of weapons.
Shall we say "

" Pistols," I replied briefly.

" A la bonne heure /" Then, suppose we fix upon the plot
of open ground just behind the hill to the left of the Casa
Ghirlande — between that and the Villa Romani — it is quiet
and secluded, and there will be no fear of interruption."

I bowed again.

" Thus it stands," continued the marquis, affably — " the
hour of six — the weapons pistols — the paces to be decided
hereafter when the other seconds arrive."

I professed myself entirely satisfied with these arrange-
ments, and shook hands with my amiable coadjutor. I then
looked round at the rest of the assembled company with a
smile at their troubled faces.

214 VENDETTA!

" Gentlemen," I said, " our feast has broken up in a rather
disagreeable manner — and I am sorry for it, the more espe-
cially as it compels me to part from you. Receive my thanks
for your company, and for the friendship you have displayed
toward me ! I do not believe that this is the last time I shall
have the honor of entertaining you — but if it should be so, I
shall at any rate carry a pleasant remembrance of you into
the next world 1 If on the contrary I should survive the
combat of the morning, I hope to see you all again on my
marriage-day, when nothing shall occur to mar our merri-
ment. In the meantime — good-night ! "

They closed round me, pressing my hands warmly and
assuring me of their entire sympathy with me in the quarrel
that had occurred. The duke was especially cordial, giving
me to understand that had the others failed in their services,
he himself, in spite of his dignity and peace-loving disposition,
would have volunteered as my second. I escaped from them
all at last and reached the quiet of my own apartments.
There I sat alone for more than an hour, waiting for the re-
turn of Vincenzo, whom I had sent to track Ferrari. I heard
the departing footsteps of my guests as they left the hotel by
twos and threes — I heard the equable voices of the marquis
and Captain Freccia ordering hot coffee to be served to them
in a private room where they were to await the other seconds
— now and then I caught a few words of the excited language
of the waiters who were volubly discussing the affair as they
cleared away the remains of the superb feast at which, though
none knew it save myself, death had been seated. Thirteen
at fable ! One was a traitor and one must die. I knew
which one. No presentiment lurked in my mind as to the
doubtful result of the coming combat. It was not my lot to
fall — my time had not come yet — I felt certain of that ! No !
All the fateful forces of the universe would help me to keep
alive till my vengeance was fulfilled. Oh, what bitter shafts
of agony Ferrari carried in his heart at that moment. I
thought. How he had looked when I said she never cared
for him ! Poor wretch ! I pitied him even while I rejoiced at
his torture. He suffered now as I had suffered — he was
duped as I had been duped — and each quiver of his con-
rulsed face and tormented frame had been fraught with sat-
isfaction to me ! Each moment of his life was now a pang
to him. Well ! it would soon be over — thus far at least I
was merciful. I drew out pens and paper and commenced
to write a few last instructions, in case the result of the fight

VENDETTA! 215

should be fatal to me. I made them very concise and brief
— I knew, while writing, that they would not be needed.
Still — for the sake of form I wrote — and sealing the document,
I directed it to the Duke di Marina. I looked at my watch
— it was past one o'clock and Vincenzo had not yet returned.
I went to the window, and drawing back the curtains, sur-
veyed the exquisitely peaceful scene that lay before me. The
moon was still high and bright — and her reflection made the
waters of the bay appear like a warrior's coat of mail woven
from a thousand glittering links of polished steel. Here and
there, from the masts of anchored brigs and fishing-boats
gleamed a few red and green lights burning dimly like fallen
and expiring stars. There was a heavy unnatural silence
everywhere — it oppressed me, and I threw the window wide
open for air. Then came the sound of bells chiming softly.
People passed to and fro with quiet footsteps — some paused
to exchange friendly greetings. I remembered the day with
a sort of pang at my heart. The night was over, though
as yet there was no sign of dawn — and — it was Christmas
morning !

CHAPTER XXV.

THE opening of the room door aroused me from my med-
itations. I turned — to find Vincenzo standing near me, hat
in hand — he had just entered.

" Ebbene!" I said, with a cheerful air — " what news ? "

" Eccellenza, you have been obeyed. The young Signor
Ferrari is now at his studio."

" You left him there ? "

"Yes, eccellenza " — and Vincenzo proceeded to give me
a graphic account of his adventures. On leaving the ban-
queting-room, Ferrari had taken a carriage and driven
straight to the Villa Romani — Vincenzo, unperceived, had
swung himself on to the back of the vehicle and had gone
also.

" Arriving there," continued my valet, " he dismissed the
fiacre — and rang the gate-bell furiously six or seven times.
No one answered. I hid myself among the trees and
watched. There were no lights in the villa windows — all was
darkness. He rang it again — he even shook "the gate as
though he would break it open. At last the poor Giacomo
came, half undressed and holding a lantern in his hand — h§

216 VENDETTA!

seemed terrified, and trembled so much that the lantern jogged
up and down like a corpse-candle on a tomb.

" * I must see the contessa,' said the young signer. Gia-
como blinked like an owl, and coughed as though the devil
scratched in his throat.

" ' The contessa ! ' he said. ' She is gone ! '

" The signer then threw himself upon Giacomo and shook
him to and fro as though he were a bag of loose wheat.

" ' Gone ! ' and he screamed like a madman! 'Where?
Tell me where, dolt ! idiot ! driveler ! before I twist your neck
for you ! '

"Truly, eccellenza, I would have gone to the rescue of the
poor Giacomo, but respect for your commands kept me
silent. ' A thousand pardons, signer ! ' he whispered, out of
breath with his shaking. ' I will tell you instantly — most in-
stantly. She is at the Convento dell' Annunziata — ten miles
from here — the saints know I speak the truth — she left two
days since.'

" The Signor Ferrari then flung away the unfortunate Gia-
como with so much force that he fell in a heap on the pave-
ment and broke his lantern to pieces. The old man set up
a most pitiful groaning, but the signer cared nothing for that.
He was mad, I think. ' Get to bed ! ' he cried, ' and sleep —
sleep till you die ! Tell your mistress when you see her that
I came to kill her ! My curse upon this house and all who
dwell in it ! ' And with that he ran so quickly through the
garden into the high-road that I had some trouble to follow
him. There after walking unsteadily for a few paces, he
suddenly fell down, senseless."

Vincenzo paused. " Well," I said, " what happened
next ? "

" Eccellenza, I could not leave him there without aid. I
drew my cloak well up to my mouth and pulled my hat down
over my eyes so that he could not recognize me. Then I
took water from the fountain close by and dashed it on his
face. He soon came to himself, and, taking me for a stran-
ger, thanked me for my assistance, saying that he had a
sudden shock. He then drank greedily from the fountain
and went on his way."

" You followed ? "

" Yes, eccellenza — at a little distance. He next visited a
common tavern in one of the back streets of the city and
came out with two men. They were well dressed — they had
the air of gentlemen spoiled by bad fortune. The signor

VENDETTA!

217

talked with them for some time — he seemed muck excited.
I could not hear what they said except at the end, when these
two strangers consented to appear as seconds for Signer
Ferrari, and they at once left him, to come straight to this
hotel. And they are arrived, for I saw them through a half-
opened door as I came in, talking with the Marquis
D'Avencourt."

" Well ! " I said, " and what of Signer Ferrari when he was
left alone by his two friends ? "

" There is not much more to tell, eccellenza. He went up
the little hill to his own studio, and I noticed that he walked
like a very old man with his head bent. Once he stopped
and shook his fist in the air as though threatening some one.
He let himself in at his door with a private key — and I saw
him no more. I felt that he would not come out again for
some time. And as I moved away to return here, I heard
a sound as of terrible weeping."

"And that is all, Vincenzo? "

" That is all, eccellenza."

I was silent. There was something in the simple narration
that touched me, though I remained as determinately relent-
less as ever. After a few moments I said :

" You have done well, Vincenzo. You are aware how
grossly this young man has insulted me — and that his inju-
rious treatment can only be wiped out in one way. That way
is already arranged. You can set out those pistols you
cleaned."

Vincenzo obeyed — but as he lifted the heavy case of
weapons and set them on the table, he ventured to remark,
timidly :

" The eccellenza knows it is now Christmas-day ? "

" I am quite aware of the fact," I said somewhat frigidly.

In nowise daunted he went on, " Coming back just now I
saw the big Nicolo — the eccellenza has doubtless seen him
often ? — he is a vine-grower, and they say he is the largest
man in Naples — three months since he nearly killed his
brother— ebbene / To-night that same big Nicolo is drinking
Chianti with that same brother, and both shouted after me
as I passed, ' Hola ! Vincenzo Flamma ! all is well between
us because it is the blessed Christ's birthday.' " Vincenzo
stopped and regarded me wistfully.

" Well ! " I said, calmly, " what has the big Nicolo or his
brother to do with me ? "

My valet hesitated — looked up — then down — finally he

2i8 VENDETTA!

said, simply, " May the saints preserve the eccellenza from
all harm ! "

I smiled gravely. " Thank you, my friend ! I understand
what you mean. Have no fear for me. I am now going to
lie down and rest till five o'clock or thereabouts — and I advise
you to do the same. At that time vou can bring me some
coffee."

And I nodded kindly to him as I left him and entered my
sleeping apartment, where I threw myself on the bed, dressed
as I was. I had no intention of sleeping — my mind was too
deeply engrossed by all I had gone through. I could enter
-into Guide's feelings — had I not suffered as he was now suf-
fering ? — nay ! more than he — for he, at any rate, would not
be buried alive ! I should take care of that ! He would not
have to endure the agony of breaking loose from the cold
grasp of the grave to come back to life and find his name
slandered, and his vacant place filled up by a usurper. Do
what I would, I could not torture him as much as I myself
had been tortured. That was a pity — death, sudden and
almost painless, seemed too good for him. I held up my hand
in the half light and watched it closely to see if it trembled
ever so slightly. No ! it was steady as a rock — I felt I was
sure of my aim. I would not fire at his heart, I thought—
but just above it — for I had to remember one thing — he
must live long enough to recognize me before he died. That
was the sting I reserved for his last moments ! The sick
dreams that had bewildered my brain when I was taken ill
at the auberge recurred to me. I remembered the lithe
figure, so like Guido, that had glided in the Indian canoe
toward me and had plunged a dagger three times in my
heart ? Had it not been realized ? Had not Guido stabbed
me thrice ? — in his theft of my wife's affections — in his con-
tempt for my little dead child — in his slanders on my name ?
Then why such foolish notions of pity — of forgiveness, that
were beginning to steal into my mind? It was too late now
for forgiveness — the very idea of it only rose out of a silly
sentimentalism awakened by Ferrari's allusion to our young
days — days for which, after all, he really cared nothing.
Meditating on all these things, I suppose I must have fallen
by imperceptible degrees into a doze which gradually deep-
ened till it became a profound and refreshing sleep. From
this I was awakened by a knocking at the door. I arose and
admitted Vincenzo, who entered bearing a tray of steaming
coffee,

VENDETTA! 219

" Is it already so late ? " I asked him.

" It wants a quarter to five," replied Vincenzo — then look-
ing at me in some surprise, he added, " Will not the eccel-
lenza change his evening-dress ? "

I nodded in the affirmative — and while I drank my coffee
my valet set out a suit of rough tweed, such as I was accus-
tomed to wear every day. He then left me, and I quickly
changed my attire, and while I did so I considered carefully
the position of affairs. Neither the Marquis D'Avencourt
nor Captain Freccia had ever known me personally when I
was Fabio Romani — nor was it at all probable that the two
tavern companions of Ferrari had ever seen me. Ar surgeon
'would be on the field — most probably a stranger. Thinking
over these points, I resolved on a bold stroke — it was this —
that when I turned to face Ferrari in the combat, I would do
so with uncovered eyes — I would abjure my spectacles alto-
gether for the occasion. Vaguely I wondered what the effect
would be upon him. I was very much changed even without
these disguising glasses — my white beard and hair had seem-
ingly altered my aspect — yet I knew there was something
familiar in the expression of my eyes that could not fail to
startle one who had known me well. My seconds would
consider it very natural that I should remove the smoke-
colored spectacles in order to see my aim unencumbered —
the only person likely to be disconcerted by my action was
Ferrari himself. The more I thought of it the more deter-
mined I was to do it. I had scarcely finished dressing when
Vincenzo entered with my overcoat, and informed me that
the marquis waited for me, and that a close carriage was in
attendance at the private door of the hotel.

" Permit me to accompany you, eccellenza ! " pleaded the
faithful fellow, with anxiety in the tone of his voice.

" Come then, amico /" I said, cheerily. " If the marquis
makes no objection I shall not. But you must promise not
to interrupt any of the proceedings by so much as an ex-
clamation."

He promised readily, and when I joined the marquis he
followed, carrying my case of pistols.

" He can be trusted, I suppose ? " asked D'Avencourt,
glancing keenly at him while shaking hands cordially with
me.

" To the death ! " I replied, laughingly. " He will break
his heart if he is not allowed to bind up my wounds ! "

" I see you are in good spirits, conte," remarked Captain

J20 VENDETTA!

Freccia, as we took our seats in the carriage. " It is always
the way with the man who is in the right. Ferrari, I fear, is
not quite so comfortable."

And he proffered me a cigar, which I accepted. Just as
we were about to start, the fat landlord of the hotel rushed
toward us, and laying hold of the carriage door — " Eccel-
lenza," he observed in a confidential whisper, " of course this
is only a matter of coffee and glorias ? They will be ready
for you all on your return. I know — I understand ! " And
he smiled and nodded a great many times, and laid his finger
knowingly on the side of his nose. \Ve laughed heartily, as-
suring him that his perspicuity was wonderful, and he stood
on the broad steps in high good humor, watching us as our
vehicle rumbled heavily away.

" Evidently," I remarked, " he does not consider a duel as
a serious affair."

" Not he ! " replied Freccia. " He has known of too many
sham fights to be able to understand a real one. D'Aven-
court knows something about that too, though he always kills
his man. But very often it is sufficient to scratch one an-
other with the sword-point so as to draw a quarter of a drop
of blood, and honor is satisfied ! Then the coffee and glorias
are brought, as suggested by our friend the landlord."

" It is a ridiculous age," said the marquis, taking his cigar
from his mouth, and complacently surveying his small, supple
white hand, " thoroughly ridiculous, but I determined it
should never make a fool of me. You see, my dear conte,
nowadays a duel is very frequently decided with swords
rather than pistols, and why ? Because cowards fancy it is
much more difficult to kill with the sword. But not at all.
Long ago I made up my mind that no man should continue
to live who dared to insult me. I therefore studied sword-
play as an art. And I assure you it is a simple matter to
kill with the sword — remarkably simple. My opponents are
astonished at the ease with which I dispatch them ! "

Freccia laughed. " De Hamal is a pupil of yours, mar-
quis, is he not ? "

" I regret to say yes ! He is marvelously clumsy. I have
often earnestly requested him to eat his sword rather than
handle it so boorishly. Yet he kills his men, too, but in a
butcher-like manner — totally without grace or refinement. I
should say he was about on a par with our two associates,
Ferrari's seconds."

I roused myself from a reverie into which I had fallen.

VENDETTA! ±21

41 What men are they ? " I inquired.

" One calls himself the Capitano Ciabatti, the other Cava-
liere Dursi, at your service," answered Freccia, indifferently.
" Good swearers both and hard drinkers — filled with stock
phrases, such as ' our distinguished dear friend, Ferrari/
' wrongs which can only be wiped out by blood ' — all bombast
and braggadocio ! These fellows would as soon be on one
side as the other."

He resumed his smoking, and we all three lapsed into
silence. The drive seemed very long, though in reality the
distance was not great. At last we passed the Casa Ghir-
lande, a superb chateau belonging to a distinguished noble-
man who in former days had been a friendly neighbor to me,
and then our vehicle jolted down a gentle declivity which
sloped into a small valley, where there was a good-sized piece
of smooth flat greensward. From this spot could be faintly
discerned the castellated turrets of my own house, the Villa
Romani. Here we came to a standstill. Vincenzo jumped
briskly down from his seat beside the coachman, and assisted
us to alight. The carriage then drove off to a retired corner
behind some trees. We surveyed the ground, and saw that
as yet only one person beside ourselves had arrived. This
was the surgeon, a dapper good-humored little German who
spoke bad French and worse Italian, and who shook hands
cordially with us all. On learning who I was he bowed low
and smiled very amiably. " The best wish I can offer to you,
signer," he said, " is that you may have no occasion for my
services. You have reposed yourself ? That is well — sleep
steadies the nerves. Ach ! you shiver ! True it is, the
morning is cold."

I did indeed experience a passing shudder, but not be-
cause the air was chilly. It was because I felt certain — so
terribly certain, of killing the man I had once loved well.
Almost I wished I could also feel that there was the slightest
possibility of his killing me ; but no ! — all my instincts told
me there was no chance of this. I had a sort of sick pain
at my heart, and as I thought of her, the jewel-eyed snake
who had wrought all the evil, my wrath against her increased
tenfold. I wondered scornfully what she was doing away
in the quiet convent where the sacred Host, unveiled, glittered
on the altar like a star of the morning. No doubt she slept ;
it was yet too early for her to practice her sham sanctity.
She slept, in all probability most peacefully, while her husband
and her lover called upon death to come and decide between

222 rENDETTA!

them. The slow clear strokes of a bell chiming from the
city tolled six, and as its last echo trembled mournfully on
the wind there was a slight stir among my companions. I
looked and saw Ferrari approaching with his two associates.
He walked slowly, and was muffled in a thick cloak ; his
hat was pulled over his brows, and I could not see the ex-
pression of his face, as he did not turn hi" head once in my
direction, but stood apart leaning againsc the trunk of a leaf-
less tree. The seconds on both sides now commenced
measuring the ground.

" We are agreed as to the distance, gentlemen," said the
marquis. " Twenty paces, I think ? "

" Twenty paces," stiffly returned one of Ferrari's friends —
a battered-looking middle-aged rouew\\\\ ferocious mustachios,
whom I presumed was Captain Ciabatti.

They went on measuring carefully and in silence. During
the pause I turned my back on the whole party, slipped off
my spectacles and put them in my pocket. Then I lowered
the brim of my hat slightly so that the change might not be
observed too suddenly — and resuming my first position, I
waited. It was daylight though not full morning — the sun
had not yet risen, but there was an opaline luster in the sky,
'and one pale pink streak in the east like the floating pennon
from the lance of a hero, which heralded his approach.
There was a gentle twittering of awakening birds — the grass
sparkled with a million tiny drops of frosty dew. A curious
calmness possessed me. I felt for the time as though I were
a mechanical automaton moved by some other will than my
own. I had no passion left.

The weapons were now loaded — and the marquis, looking
about him with a cheerful business-like air, remarked :

" I think we may now place our men ? "

This suggestion agreed to, Ferrari left his place near the
tree against which he had in part inclined as though fatigued,
and advanced to the spot his seconds pointed out to him.
He threw off his hat and overcoat, thereby showing that he
was still in his evening-dress. His face was haggard and of
a sickly paleness — his eyes had dark rings of pain round
them, and were full of a keen and bitter anguish. He eagerly
grasped the pistol they handed to him, and examined it
closely with vengeful interest. I meanwhile also threw off
my hat and coat — the marquis glanced at me with careless
approval.

" You look a much younger man without your spectacles,

VENDETTA ! 223

conte," he remarked as he handed me my weapon. I smiled
indifferently, and took up my position at the distance indicated,
exactly opposite Ferrari. He was still occupied in the ex-
amination of his pistol, and did not at once look up.

" Are we ready, gentlemen ? " demanded Freccia, with
courteous coldness.

" Quite ready," was the response. The Marquis D'Aven-
court took out his handkerchief. Then Ferrari raised his
head and faced me fully for the first time. Great Heaven !
shall I ever forget the awful change that came over his pallid
countenance — the confused mad look of his eyes — the startled
horror of his expression ! His lips moved as though he
were about to utter an exclamation — he staggered.

" One ! " cried D'Avencourt.

We raised our weapons.

" Two ! "

The scared and bewildered expression of Ferrari's face
deepened visibly as he eyed me steadily in taking aim. I
smiled proudly — I gave him back glance for glance — I saw
him waver — his hand shook.

" Three ! " and the white handkerchief fluttered to the
ground. Instantly, and together, we fired. Ferrari's bullet
whizzed past me, merely tearing my coat and grazing my
shoulder. The smoke cleared — Ferrari still stood erect, oppo-
site to me, staring straight forward with the same frantic far*
off look — the pistol had dropped from his hand. Suddenly
he threw up his arms — shuddered — and with a smothered
groan fell, face forward, prone on the sward. The surgeon
hurried to his side and turned him so that he lay on his back.
He was unconscious — though his dark eyes were wide open,
and turned blindly upward to the sky. The front of his shirt
was already soaked with blood. We all gathered round him.

"A good shot?" inquired the marquis, with the indif-
ference of a practiced duelist.

" Ach ! a good shot indeed ! " replied the little German
doctor, shaking his head as he rose from his examination of
the wound. " Excellent ! He will be dead in ten minutes.
The bullet has passed through the lungs close to the heart.
Honor is satisfied certainly ! "

At that moment a deep anguished sigh parted the lips of the
dying man.x Sense and speculation returned to those glaring
eyes so awfully upturned. He looked upon us all doubtfully
one after the other — till finally his gaze rested upon me.
Then he grew strangely excited — his lips moved — he eagerly

124 VENDETTA I

tried to speak. The doctor, watchful of his movements,
poured brandy between his teeth. The cordial gave him
momentary strength — he raised himself by a supreme effort.

"Let me speak," he gasped faintly, " to him /" And he
pointed to me — then he continued to mutter like a man in a
dream — " to him — alone — alone ! — to him alone ! "

The others, slightly awed by his manner, drew aside out of
ear-shot, and I advanced and knelt beside him, stooping my
face between his and the morning sky. His wild eyes met
mine with a piteous beseeching terror.

" In God's name," he whispered, thickly, "who areyoul"

" You know me, Guido ! " I answered, steadily. " I am
Fabio Romani, whom you once called friend ! I am he whose
wife you stole ! — whose name you slandered ! — whose honor
you despised ! Ah ! look at me well ! your own heart tells
you who I am ! "

He uttered a low moan and raised his hand with a feeble
gesture.

" Fabio ? Fabio ? " he gasped. " He died — I saw him in
his coffin "

I leaned more closely over him. " I was buried alive" I
said with thrilling distinctness. " Understand me, Guido —
buried alive ! I escaped — no matter how. I came home —
to learn your treachery and my own dishonor ! Shall I tell
you more ? "

A terrible shudder shook his frame — his head moved rest-
lessly to and fro, the sweat stood in large drops upon his
forehead. With my own handkerchief I wiped his lips and
brow tenderly — my nerves were strung up to an almost brit-
tle tension — I smiled as a woman smiles when on the verge
of hysterical weeping.

" You know the avenue," I said, " the dear old avenue,
where the nightingales sing ? I saw you there, Guido — with
her ! — on the very night of my return from death — she was
in your arms — you kissed her — you spoke of me — you toyed
with the necklace on her white breast ! "

He writhed under my gaze with a strong convulsive move-
ment.

u Tell me — quick ! " he gasped. " Does — she — knowr
you ? "

" Not yet ! " I answered, slowly. " But soon she will —
when I have married her ! "

A look of bitter attguish filled his straining eyes. " Oh,
God, God ! " he exclaimed with a groan like that of a. wild

VENDETTA! 225

beast in pain. " This is horrible, too horrible ! Spare me

— spare " A rush of blood choked his utterance. His

breathing grew fainter and fainter ; the livid hue of approach-
ing dissolution spread itself gradually over his countenance.
Staring wildly at me, he groped with his hands as though
he searched for some lost thing. I took one of those feebly
wandering hands within my own, and held it closely clasped.

" You know the rest," I said gently ; " you understand my
vengeance ! But it is all over, Guido — all over, now ! She
has played us both false. May God forgive you as I do ! "

He smiled — a soft look brightened his fast-glazing eyes —
the old boyish look that had won my love in former days.

" All over ! " he repeated in a sort of plaintive babble.

" All over now ! God — Fabio — forgive ! " A terrible

convulsion wrenched and contorted his limbs and features, his
throat rattled, and stretching himself out with a long shiver-
ing sigh — he died ! The first beams of the rising sun, pierc-
ing through the dark, moss-covered branches of the pine-trees,
fell on his clustering hair, and lent x mocking brilliancy to
his wide-open sightless eyes : there was a smile on the closed
lips ! A burning, suffocating sensation rose in my throat, as
of rebellious tears trying to force a passage. I still held the
hand of my friend and enemy — it had grown cold in my clasp.
Upon it sparkled my family diamond — the ring she had given
him. I drew the jewel off : then I kissed that poor passive
hand as I laid it gently down — kissed it tenderly, reverently.
Hearing footsteps approaching, I rose from my kneeling post-
ure and stood erect with folded arms, looking tearlessly down
on the stiffening clay before me. The rest of the party came
up ; no one spoke for a minute ; all surveyed the dead body
in silence. At last Captain Freccia said, softly in half-inquir-
ing accents :

" He is gone, I suppose ? "

I btfwed. I could not trust myself to speak.

" He made you his apology ? " asked the marquis.

I bowed again. There was another pause of heavy
silence. The rigid smiling face of the corpse seemed to
mock all speech. The doctor stooped and skillfully closed
those glazed appealing eyes — and then it seemed to me as
though Guido merely slept and that a touch would waken him.
The Marquis D'Avencourt took me by the arm and whis-
pered, "Get back to the city, amico, and take some wine —
you look positively ill ! Your evident regret does you credit,
considering the circumstances — but what would you ? — it was
'5

226 VENDETTA!

a fair fight. Consider the provocation you had ! I should
advise you to leave Naples for a couple of weeks — by that
time the affair will be forgotten. I know how these things
are managed — leave it all to me."

I thanked him and shook his hand cordially and turned to
depart. Vincenzo was in waiting with the carriage. Once
I looked back, as with slow steps I left the field ; a golden
radiance illumined the sky just above the stark figure
stretched so straightly on the sward ; while almost from the
very side of that pulseless heart a little bird rose from its
nest among the grasses and soared into the heavens, singing
rapturously as it flew into the warmth and glory of the living,
breathing day.

CHAPTER XXVT.

ENTERING the fiacre, I drove in it a very little way toward
the city. I bade the driver stop at the corner of the winding
road that led to the Villa Romani, and there I alighted. I
ordered Vincenzo to go on to the hotel and send from thence
my own carriage and horses up to the villa gates, where I
would wait for it. I also bade him pack my portmanteau in
readiness for my departure that evening, as I proposed going
ro Avellino, among the mountains, for a few days. He heard
my commands in silence and evident embarrassment. Fi-
nally he said :

u Do I also travel with the eccellenza ? "

" Why, no ! " I answered with a forced sad smile. " Do
you not see, amico, that I am heavy-hearted, and melancholy
men are best left to themselves. Besides — remember the
carnival — I told you you were free to indulge in its merri-
ment, and shall I not deprive you of your pleasure ? No,
Vincenzo ; stay and enjoy yourself, and take no concern for
me."

Vincenzo saluted me with his usual respectful bow, but his
features wore an expression of obstinacy.

" The eccellenza must pardon me," he said, " but I have
just looked at death, and my taste is spoiled for carnival.
Again — the eccellenza is sad — it is necessary that I should
accompany him to Avellino."

I saw that his mind was made up, and I was in no humor
for argument.

"As you will," I answered, wearily, "only believe me, you

VENDETTA! 227

make a foolish decision. But do what you like ; only arrange
all so that we leave to-night. And now get back quickly — >
give no explanation at the hotel of what has occurred, and
lose no time in sending on my carriage. I will wait alone at
the Villa Romani till it comes."

The vehicle rumbled off, bearing Vincenzo seated on the
box beside the driver. I watched it disappear, and then
turned into the road that led me to my own dishonored home.
The place looked silent and deserted — not a soul was stirring.
The silken blinds of the reception-rooms were all closely
drawn, showing that the mistress of the house was absent ;
it was as if some one lay dead within,. A vague wonderment
arose in my mind. Who was dead ? Surely it must be I — I
the master of the household, who lay stiff and cold in one of
those curtained rooms ! This terrible white-haired man who
roamed feverishly up and down outside the walls was not me
— it was some angry demon risen from the grave to wreak
punishment on the guilty, /was dead — /could never have
killed the man who had once been my friend. And he also
was dead — the same murderess had slain us both — and she
lived ! Ha ! that was wrong — she must now die — but in such
torture that her very soul shall shrink and shrivel under it
into a devil's flame for the furnace of hell !

With my brain full of hot whirling thoughts like these I
looked through the carved heraldic work of the villa gates.
Here had Guido stood, poor wretch, last night, shaking these
twisted wreaths of iron in impotent fury. There on the
mosaic pavement he had flung the trembling old servant who
had told him of the absence of his traitress. On this very
spot he had launched his curse, which, though he knew it
not, was the curse of a dying man. I was glad he had
uttered it — such maledictions cling! There was nothing but
compassion for him in my heart now that he was dead. He
had been duped and wronged even as I ; and I felt that his
spirit, released from its grosser clay, would work with mine
and aid in her punishment.

I paced round the silent house till I came to the private
wicket that led into the avenue ; I opened it and entered
the familiar path. I had not been there since the fatal
night on which I had learned my own betrayal. How in-
tensely still were those solemn pines — how gaunt and dark
and grim ! Not a branch quivered^— not a leaf stirred. A
cold dew that was scarcely a frost glittered on the moss at my
feet. No bird's voice broke the impressive hush of the wood-

i2S VENDETTA!

lands morning dream. No bright-hued flower unbuttoned
its fairy cloak to the breeze ; yet there was a subtle perfume
everywhere — the fragrance of unseen violets whose purple
eyes were still closed in slumber.

I gazed on the scene as a man may behold in a vision
the spot where he once was happy. I walked a few paces,
then paused with a strange beating at my heart. A shadow
fell across my path — it flitted before me, it stopped — it lay
still. I saw it resolve itself into the figure of a man stretched
out in rigid silence, with the light beating full on its smiling,
Jead face, and also on a deep wound just above his heart,
from which the blood oozed redly, staining the grass on
which he lay. Mastering the sick horror which seized me
at this sight, I sprung forward — the shadow vanished in-
stantly— it was a mere optical delusion, the result of my
overwrought and excited condition. I shuddered involun-
tarily at the image my own heated fancy had conjured up ;
should I always see Guido thus, I thought, even in my
dreams ?

Suddenly a ringing, swaying rush of sound burst joyously
on the silence — the slumbering trees awoke, their leaves
moved, their dark branches quivered, and the grasses lifted
up their green lilliputian sword-blades. Bells ! — and such
bells ! — tongues of melody that stormed the air with sweetest
eloquence — round, rainbow bubbles of music that burst upon
the wind, and dispersed in delicate broken echoes.

" Peace on earth, good will to men ! Peace — on — earth-
good — will — to — men ! " they seemed to say over and over
again, till my ears ached with the repetition. Peace ! What
had I to do with peace or good-will ? The Christ Mass
could teach me nothing. I was as one apart from human
life — an alien from its customs and affections — for me no
love, no brotherhood remained. The swinging song of the
chimes jarred my nerves. Why, I thought, should the wild
erring world, with all its wicked men and women, presume
to rejoice at the birth of the Saviour ? — they, who were not
worthy to be saved ! I turned swiftly away ; I strode fiercely
past the kingly pines that, now thoroughly awakened, seemed
to note me with a stern disdain as though they said among
themselves: "What manner of small creature is this that
torments himself with passions unknown to us in our calm
converse with the stars ? "

I was glad when I stood again on the high-road, and in-
finitely relieved when I hsard th^ rapid trot of horses and

VENDETTA f 229

rumbling of wheels, and saw my closed brougham, drawn by
its prancing black Arabians, approaching. I walked to meet
it; the coachman seeing me drew up instantly. I bade him
take me to the Convento dell' Annunziata, and entering the
carriage, I was driven rapidly away.

The convent was situated, I knew, somewhere between
Naples and Sorrento. I guessed it to be near Castellamare,
but it was fully three miles beyond that, and was a some-
what long drive of more than two hours. It lay a good dis-
tance out of the direct route, and was only attained by a by-
road, which from its rough and broken condition was evidently
not much frequented. The building stood apart from all other
habitations in a large open piece of ground, fenced in by a
high stone wall spiked at the top. Roses climbed thickly
among the spikes, and almost hid their sharp points from
view, and from a perfect nest of green foliage, the slender
spire of the convent chapel rose into the sky like a white
finger pointing to heaven. My coachman drew up before
the heavily barred gates. I alighted, and bade him take the
carriage to the principal hostelry at Castellamare, and wait
for me there. As soon as he had driven off, I rang the con-
vent bell. A little wicket fixed in the gate opened im-
mediately, and the wrinkled visage of a very old and ugly nun
looked out. She demanded in low tones what I sought. L
handed her my card, and stated my desire to see the Countess
Romani, if agreeable to the superioress. While I spoke she
looked at me curiously — my spectacles, I suppose, excited
her wonder — for I had replaced these disguising glasses im-
mediately on leaving the scene of the duel — I needed them
yet a little while longer. After peering at me a minute or
two with her bleared and aged eyes, she shut the wicket in
my face with a smart click and disappeared. While I
awaited her return I heard the sound of children's laughter
and light footsteps running trippingly on the stone passage
within.

" Fi done, Rosie ! " said the girl's voice in French ; " la
bonne Mere Marguerite sera tres tres fache'e avec toi."

" Tais-toi, petite sainte ! " cried another voice more pierc-
ing and silvery in tone. " Je veux voir qui est la ! C'est un
homme je sais bien — parceque la vieille Mere Laura a rougi ! "
and both young voices broke into a chorus of renewed laugh-
ter.

Then came the shuffling noise of the old nun's footsteps
• Tetunaing ; she evidently caught the two truants, whoever they

230 VENDETTA!

were, for I heard her expostulating, scolding and apostrophiz-
ing the saints all in a breath, as she bade them go inside the
house and ask the good little Jesus to forgive their naughti-
ness. A silence ensued, then the bolts and bars of the huge
gate were undone slowly — it opened, and I was admitted. I
raised my hat as I entered, and walked bareheaded through
a long, cold corridor, guided by the venerable nun, who looked
at me no more, but told her beads as she walked, and never
spoke till she had led me into the building, through a lofty
hall glorious with sacred paintings and statues, and from
thence into a large, elegantly furnished room, whose windows
commanded a fine view of the grounds. Here she motioned
me to take a seat, and without lifting her eyelids, said :
" Mother Marguerite will wait upon you instantly, signor."
I bowed, and she glided from the room so noiselessly that
I did not even hear the door close behind her. Left alone in
what I rightly concluded was the reception-room for visitors,
I looked about me with some faint interest and curiosity. I
had never before seen the interior of what is known as an
educational convent. There were many photographs on the
walls and mantelpiece — portraits of girls, some plain of face
and form, others beautiful — no doubt they had all been sent
to the nuns as souvenirs of former pupils. Rising from my
chair I examined a few of them carelessly, and was about to
inspect a fine copy of Murillo's Virgin, when my attention
was caught by an upright velvet frame surmounted with my
own crest and coronet. In it was the portrait of my wife,
taken in her bridal dress, as she looked when she married me.
I took it to the light, and stared at the features dubiously.
This was she — this slim, fairy-like creature clad in gossamer
white, with the marriage veil thrown back from her cluster-
ing hair and child-like face— this was the thing for which two
men's lives had been sacrificed ! With a movement of dis-
gust I replaced the frame in its former position ; I had
scarcely done so when the door opened quietly and a tall
woman, clad in trailing robes of pale blue with a nun's band
and veil of fine white cashmere, stood before me. I saluted
her with a deep reverence ; she responded by the slightest
possible bend of her head. Her outward manner was so very
still and composed that when she spoke her colorless lips
scarcely moved, her very breathing never stirred the silver
crucifix that lay like a glittering sign-manual on her quiet
breast. Her voice, though low, was singularly clear and
penetrating.

VENDETTA! 231

" I address the Count Oliva ? " she inquired.

I bowed in the affirmative. She looked at me keenly : she
had dark, brilliant eyes, in which the smoldering fires of many
a conquered passion still gleamed.

" You would see the Countess Romani, who is in retreat
here ? "

" If not inconvenient or out of rule " I began.

The shadow of a smile flitted across the nun's pale, intel-
lectual face ; it was gone almost as soon as it appeared.

" Not at all," she replied, in the same even monotone.
" The Countess Nina is, by her own desire, following a strict
regime, but to-day being a universal feast-day all rules are
somewhat relaxed. The reverend mother desires me to in-
form you that it is now the hour for mass — she has herself
already entered the chapel. If you will share in our devo-
tions, the countess shall afterward be informed of your pres-
ence here."

I could do no less than accede to this proposition, though
in truth it was unwelcome to me. I was in no humor for
either prayers or praise ; I thought moodily how startled even
this impassive nun might have been, could she have known
what manner of man it was that she thus invited to kneel in
the sanctuary. However, I said no word of objection, and
she bade me follow her. As we left the room I asked :

" Is the countess well ? "

" She seems so," returned Mere Marguerite ; "she follows
her religious duties with exactitude, and makes no complaint
of fatigue."

We were now crossing the hall. I ventured on another in-
quiry.

" She was a favorite pupil of yours, I believe ? "

The nun turned her passionless face toward me with an air
of mild surprise and reproof.

" I have no favorites," she answered, coldly. " All the
children educated here share my attention and regard
equally."

I murmured an apology, and added with a forced smile :

"You must pardon my apparent inquisitiveness, but as the
future husband of the lady who was brought up under your
care, I am naturally interested in all that concerns her^"

Again the searching eyes of the religie.use surveyed me ; she
sighed slightly.

" I am aware of the connection between you," she said, in
rather a paineci tone. " Nina Romani belongs to the world,

232

VENDETTA!

and follows the ways of the world. Of course, marriage is
the natural fulfillment of most young girls' destinies ; there
are comparatively few who are called out of the ranks to
serve Christ. Therefore, when Nina married the estimable
Count Romani, of whom report spoke ever favorably, we re-
joiced greatly, feeling that her future was safe in the hands
of a gentle and wise protector. May his soul rest in peace !
But a second marriage for her is what I did not expect, and
what I cannot in my conscience approve. You see I speak
frankly."

" I am honored that you do so, madame ! " I said, ear-
nestly, feeling a certain respect for this sternly composed yet
patient-featured woman ; " yet, though in general you may
find many reasonable objections to it, a second marriage is I
think, in the Countess Romani's case almost necessary. She
is utterly without a protector — she is very young and how
beautiful ! "

The nun's eyes grew solemn and almost mournful.

" Such beauty is a curse," she answered, with emphasis ;
" a fatal — a fearful curse ! As a child it made her wayward
As a woman it keeps her wayward still. Enough of this,
signer ! " and she bowed her head ; " excuse my plain speak-
ing. Rest assured that I wish you both happiness."

We had by this time reached the door of the chapel, through
which the sound of the pealing organ poured forth in
triumphal surges of melody. Mere Marguerite dipped her
fingers in the holy water, and signing herself with the cross,
pointed out a bench at the back of the church as one that
strangers were allowed to occupy. I seated myself, and
looked with a certain soothed admiration at the picturesque
scene before me. There was the sparkle of twinkling lights —
the bloom and fragrance of flowers. There were silent rows
of nuns blue-robed and white-veiled, kneeling and absorbed
in prayer. Behind these a little cluster of youthful figures
in black, whose drooped heads were entirely hidden in veils
of flowing white muslin. Behind these again, one woman's
slight form arrayed in heavy mourning garments ; her veil
was black, yet not so thick but that I could perceive the
sheeny glitter of golden hair — that was my wife, I knew.
Pious angel ! how devout she looked ! I smiled in dreary
scorn as I watched her ; I cursed her afresh in the name of
the man I had killed. And above all, surrounded with the
luster of golden rays and incrusted jewels, the uncovered
Host shone serenely like the gleam of the morning star. The

VENDETTA! 233

stately service went on — the organ music swept through and
through the church as though it were a strong wind striving
to set itself free — but amid it all I sat as one in a dark dream,
scarcely seeing, scarcely hearing — inflexible and cold as
marble. The rich plaintive voice of one of the nuns* in the
choir, singing the Agnus Dei, moved me to a chill sort of
wonder. " Quitollis peccata mundi " — Who takest away the sin
of the world." No, no ! there are some sins that cannot be
taken away — the sins of faithless women, the " little " sins as
they are called nowadays — for we have grown very lenient
in some things, and very severe in others. We will imprison
the miserable wretch who steals five francs from our pockets,
but the cunning feminine thief who robs us of our prestige,
our name and honorable standing among our fellow-men,
escapes almost scot-free ; she cannot be put in prison, or
sentenced to hard labor — not she ! A pity it is that Christ
did not leave us some injunction as to what was to be done
with such women — not the penitent Magdalenes, but the
creatures *vhose mouths are full of lies even when they pre-
tend to pray — they who would be capable of trying to tempt
the priest who comes to receive their last confessions — they
who would even act out a sham repentance on their death-
beds in order to look well. What can be done with devils
such as these ? Much has been said latterly of the wrongs
perpetrated on women by men ; will no one take up the other
side of the question ? We, the stronger sex, are weak in this
—we are too chivalrous. When a woman flings herself
on our mercy we spare her and are silent. Tortures will
not wring her secrets out ofms ; something holds us back
from betraying her. I know not what it can be — perhaps it
is the memory of our mothers. Whatever it is, it is certain
that many a man allows himself to be disgraced rather than
he will disgrace a woman. But a time is at hand when this
foolish chivalry of ours will die out. On changera tout cela /
When once our heavy masculine brains shall have grasped
the novel idea that woman has by her own wish and choice
resigned all claim on our respect or forbearance, we shall
have our revenge. We are slow to change the traditions of
our forefathers, but no doubt we shall soon manage to quench
the last spark of knightly reverence left in us for the female
sex, as this is evidently the point the women desire to bring us
to. We shall meet them on that low platfrom of the "equality"
they seek for, and we shall treat them with the unhesitating
and regardless familiarity they so earnestly invite I

234 VENDETTA!

Absorbed in thought, I knew not when the service ended.
A hand touched me, and looking up I saw Mere Marguerite,
who whispered :

" Follow me, if you please."

I rose, and obeyed her mechanically. Outside the chapel
door she said :

" Pray excuse me for hurrying you, but strangers are not
permitted to see the nuns and boarders passing out."

I bowed, and walked on beside her. Feeling forced to say
something, I asked :

" Have you many boarders at this holiday season ? "

" Only fourteen," she replied, " and they are children
whose parents live far away. Poor little ones ! " and the set
lines of the nun's stern face softened into tenderness as she
spoke. " We do our best to make them happy, but naturally
they feel lonely. We have generally fifty or sixty young girls
here, besides the day scholars."

" A great responsibility," I remarked.

" Very great indeed ! " and she sighed ; " almost terrible.
So much of a woman's after life depends on the early train-,
ing she receives. We do all we can, and yet in some cases
our utmost efforts are in vain ; evil creeps in, we know not how
— some unsuspected fault spoils a character that we judged
to be admirable, and we are often disappointed in our most
promising pupils. Alas ! there is nothing entirely without
blemish in this world."

Thus talking, she showed me into a small, comfortable-
looking room, lined with books and softly carpeted.

" This is one of our libraries," she explained. " The count-
ess will receive you here, as other visitors might disturb you
in the drawing-room. Pardon me," and her steady gaze had
something of compassion in it, " but you do not look well.
Can I send you some wine ? "

I declined this offer with many expressions of gratitude,
and assured her I was perfectly well. She hesitated, and at
last said, anxiously :

" I trust you were not offended at my remark concerning
Nina Roman i's marriage with you ? I fear I was too
hasty ? "

" Not so, madame," I answered, with all the earnestness I
felt. " Nothing is more pleasant to me than a frank opinion
frankly spoken. I have been so accustomed to deception —
Here I broke off and added hastily, " Pray do not think me
capable of judging you wrongly."

VENDETTA ! 23$

She seemed relieved, and smiling that shadowy, flitting
smile of hers, she said :

" No doubt you are impatient, signer ; Nina shall come to
you directly," and with a slight salutation she left me.

Surely she was a good woman, I thought, and vaguely won-
dered about her past history — that past which she had buried
forever under a mountain of prayers. What had she been
like when young — before she had shut herself within the con-
vent walls — before she had set the crucifix like a seal on her
heart ? Had she ever trapped a man's soul and strangled it
with lies ? I fancied not — her look was too pure and can-
did ; yet who could tell ? Were not Nina's eyes trained to
appear as though they held the very soul of truth ?

A few minutes passed. I heard the fresh voices of chil-
dren singing in the next room :

" D*ou went le petit Gesu ?

Cejoli bout on de rose
• Qui fleurit, enfant chert
Sur le cceur de notre mere Marie"

Then came a soft rustle of silken garments, the door
opened, and my wife entered.

CHAPTER XXVII.

SHE approached with her usual panther-like grace and sup-
ple movement, her red lips parted in a charming smile.

" So good of you to come ! " she began, holding out her
two hands as though she invited an embrace ; " and on
Christmas morning too ! " She paused, and seeing that I
did not move or speak, she regarded me with some alarm.
" What is the matter ? " she asked, in fainter tones ; " has
anything happened ? "

I looked at her. I saw that she was full of sudden fear,
I made no attempt to soothe her, I merely placed a chair.

" Sit down," I said, gravely. " I am the bearer of bad
news."

She sunk into the chair as though unnerved, and gazed
at me with terrified eyes. She trembled. Watching her
keenly, I observed all these outward signs of trepidation with
deep satisfaction. I saw plainly what was passing in her
mind. A great dread had seized her — the dread that I had
found out her treachery. So indeed I had, but the time had

236 VENDETTA!

not yet come for her to know it. Meanwhile she suffered —
suffered acutely with that gnawing terror and suspense eating
into her soul. I said nothing, I waited for her to speak.
After a pause, during which her cheeks had lost their delicate
bloom, she said, forcing a smile as she spoke—

" Bad news ? You surprise me ! What can it be? Some
unpleasantness with Guido? Have you seen him ? "

" I have seen him," I answered in the same formal and
serious tone ; " I have just left him. He sends you this"
and I held out my diamond ring that I had drawn off the dead
man's finger.

If she had been pale before, she grew paler now. All the
brilliancy of her complexion faded for the moment into an
awful haggardness. She took the ring with fingers that
shook visibly and were icy cold. There was no attempt at
smiling now. She drew a sharp quick breath ; she thought
I knew all. I was again silent. She looked at the diamond
signet with a bewildered air.

" I do not understand," she murmured, petulantly. " I
gave him this as a remembrance of his friend, my husband,
why does he return it ? "

Self-tortured criminal ! I studied her with a dark amuse-
ment, but answered nothing. Suddenly she looked up at me
and her eyes filled with tears.

" Why are you so cold and strange, Cesare ? " she pleaded,
in a sort of plaintive whimper. " Do not stand there like a
gloomy sentinel; kiss me and tell me at once what has hap-
pened."

Kiss her ! So soon after kissing the dead hand of her
lover ! No, I could not and would not. I remained standing
where I was, inflexibly silent. She glanced at me again, very
timidly, and whimpered afresh.

" Ah, you do not love me ! " she murmured. " You could
not be so stern and silent if you loved me ! If there is in-
deed any bad news, you ought to break it to me gently and
kindly. I thought you would always make everything easy
for me "

" Such has been my endeavor, madame," I said interrupt-
ing her complaint. " From your own statement, I judged
that your adopted brother Guido Ferrari had rendered him-
self obnoxious to you. I promised that I would silence him
—you remember ! I have kept my word. He is silenced —
forever ! "

She started.

VENDETTA f 237

" Silenced ? How ? You mean "

I moved away from my place behind her chair, and stood
so that I faced her as I spoke.

" I mean that he is dead."

She uttered a slight cry, not of sorrow but of wonderment.

" Dead /" she exclaimed. " Not possible ! Dead ! You
have killed him ? "

I bent my head gravely. " I killed him — yes ! But in
open combat, openly witnessed. Last night he insulted me
grossly ; we fought this morning. We forgave each other
before he died."

She listened attentively. A little color came back into
her cheeks.

" In what way did he insult you ? " she asked, in a low
voice.

I told her all, briefly. She still looked anxious.

" Did he mention my name ? " she said.

" I glanced at her troubled features in profound contempt.
She feared the dying man might have made some confession
to me ! I answered :

" No ; not after our quarrel. But I hear he went to your
house to kill you ! Not finding you there, he only cursed
you."

She heaved a sigh of relief. She was safe now, she
thought !

Her red lips widened into a cruel smile.

" What bad taste ! " she said, coldly. " Why he should
curse me I cannot imagine ! I have always been kind to
him — too kind."

Too kind indeed ! kind enough to be glad when the object
of all her kindness was dead ! For she was glad ! I could
see that in the murderous glitter of her eyes.

" You are not sorry ? " I inquired, with an air of pretended
surprise.

" Sorry ? Not at all ! Why should I be ? He was a very
agreeable friend while my husband was alive to keep him in
order, but after my poor Fabio's death, his treatment of me
was quite unbearable."

Take care, beautiful hypocrite ! take care ! Take care
lest your " poor Fabio's " fingers should suddenly nip your
slim throat with a convulsive twitch that means death !
Heaven only knows how I managed to keep my hands off her
at that moment ! Why, any groveling beast of the field had
more feeling than this wretch whom I had made my wife J

238 VENDETTA !

Even for Guide's sake — such are the strange inconsistencies
of the human heart — I could have slain her then. But I
restrained my fury; I steadied my voice and said calmly :

"Then I was mistaken ? I thought you would be dri-ply
grieved, that my news would shock and annoy you greatly,
hence my gravity and apparent coldness. But it seems I
have done well ? "

She sprung up from her chair like a pleased child and
flung her arms round my neck.

" You are brave, you are brave ! " she exclaimed, in a sort
of exultation. " You could not have done otherwise ! He
insulted you and you killed him. That was right ! I love
you all the more for being such a man of honor ! "

I looked down upon her in loathing and disgust. Honor!
Its very name was libeled coming from her lips. She did
not notice the expression of my face — she was absorbed, ex-
cellent actress as she was, m the part she had chosen to play.

" And so you were dull and sad because you feared to
grieve me ! Poor Cesare ! " she said, in child-like caressing
accents, such as she could assume when she chose. " But
now that you see I am not unhappy, you will be cheerful
again ? Yes ? Think how much I love you, and how happy
we will be ! And see, you have given me such lovely jewels,
so many of them too, that I scarcely dare offer you such a
trifle as this ; but as it really belonged to Fabio, and to Fa-
bio's father, whom you knew, I think you ought to have it.
Will you take it and wear it to please me ? " and she slipped
on my finger the diamond signet — my own ring !

I could have laughed aloud ! but I bent my head gravely
as I accepted it.

" Only as a proof of your affection, cara mia" I said,
" though it has a terrible association for me. I took it from
Ferrari's hand when "

" Oh, yes, I know ! " she interrupted me with a little
shiver ; " it must have been trying for you to have seen him
dead. I think dead people look so horrid — the sight upsets
the nerves ! I remember when I was at school here, they
would take me to see a nun who died; it sickened me and
made me ill for days. I can quite understand your feelings.
But you must try and forget the matter. Duels are very
common occurrences, after all 1 "

" Very common," I answered, mechanically, still regarding
the fair upturned face, the lustrous eyes, the rippling hair ;
" but they do not often end so fatally. The result of this one

VENDETTA ! $39

Compels me to leave Naples for some days. I g© to Avellino
to-night."

" To Avellino ? " she exclaimed, with interest. " Oh, I
know it very well. I went there once with Fabio when I
was first married."

" And were you happy there ? " I inquired, coldly.

I remembered the time she spoke of — a time of such un-
reasoning, foolish joy !

" Happy ? Oh, yes ; everything was so new to me then.
It was delightful to be my own mistress, and I was so glad
to be out of the convent."

" I thought you liked the nuns ? " I said.

" Some of them — yes. The reverend mother is a dear old
thing. But Mere Marguerite, the Vicaire as she is called —
the one that received you — oh, I do detest her ! "

" Indeed ! and why ? "

The red lips curled mutinously.

" Because she is so sly and silent. Some of the children
here adore her ; but they must have something to love, you
know," and she laughed merrily.

"Must they?"

I asked the question automatically, merely for the sake of
saying something.

" Of course they must," she answered, gayly. " You fool-
ish Cesare ! The girls often play at being one another's
lovers, only they are careful not to let the nuns know their
game. It is very amusing. Since I have been here they
have what is called a * craze ' for me. They give me flowers,
run after me in the garden, and sometimes kiss my dress,
and call me by all manner of loving names. I let them do
it because it vexes Madame la Vicaire; but of course it is
very foolish."

I was silent. I thought what a curse it was — this neces-
sity of loving. Even the poison of it must find its way into
the hearts of children — young things shut within the walls of
a secluded convent, and guarded by the conscientious care
of holy women.

" And the nuns ? " I said, uttering half my thoughts aloud.
" How do they manage without love or romance ? "

A wicked little smile, brilliant and disdainful, glittered in
her eyes.

" Do they always manage without love or romance ? " she
asked, half indolently. " What of Abelard and Helo'ise, or
Fra Lippi ? "

240 VENDETTA!

Roused by something in her tone, I caught her round the
waist, and held her firmly while I said, with some sternness :

"And you — is it possible that you have sympathy with, or
find amusement in, the contemplation of illicit and dishonor-
able passion — tell me ? "

She recollected herself in time ; her white eyelids drooped
demurely.

" Not I ! " she answered, with a grave and virtuous air ;
" how can you think so ? There is nothing to my mind so
horrible as deceit ; no good ever comes of it."

I loosened her from my embrace.

" You are right," I said, calmly ; " I am glad your instincts
are so correct ! I have always hated lies."

" So have I ! " she declared, earnestly, with a frank and
open look ; " I have often wondered why people tell them.
They are so sure to be found out ! "

I bit my lips hard to shut in the burning accusations that
my tongue longed to utter. Why should I damn the actress
or the play before the curtain was ready to fall on both ? I
changed the subject of converse.

" How long do you propose remaining here in retreat ? " I
asked. " There is nothing now to prevent your returning to
Naples."

She pondered for some minutes before replying, then she
said :

" I told the superioress I came here for a week. I had
better stay till that time is expired. Not longer, because as
Guido is really dead, my presence is actually necessary in
the city."

" Indeed ! May I ask why ? "

She laughed a little consciously.

" Simply to prove his last will and testament," she replied.
" Before he left for Rome, he gave it into my keeping."

A light flashed on my mind.

" And its contents ? " I inquired.

" Its contents make me the owner of everything he died
possessed of ! " she said, with an air of quiet yet malicious
triumph.

Unhappy Guido ! What trust he had reposed in this vile,
self-interested, heartless woman ! He had loved her, even
as I had loved her — she who was unworthy of any love ! I
controlled my rising emotion, and merely said with gravity:

" I congratulate you ! May I be permitted to see this
document ? "

VENDETTA !

241

" Certainly ; I can show it to you now. I have it here," and
she drew a Russia-leather letter-case from her pocket, and
opening it, handed me a sealed envelope. " Break the
seal ! " she added, with childish eagerness. " He closed it
up like that after I had read it."

With reluctant hand, and a pained piteousness at my
heart, I opened the packet. It was as she had said, a will
drawn up in perfectly legal form, signed and witnessed,
leaving everything unconditionally to " Nina, Countess
Romani, of the Villa Romani, Naples." I read it through
and returned it to her.

" He must have loved you ! " I said.

She laughed.

" Of course," she said, airily. " But many people love me
— that is nothing new ; I am accustomed to be loved. But
you see," she went on, reverting to the will again, " it speci-
fies, * everything he dies possessed of ';' that means all the
money left to him by his uncle in Rome, does it not ? "

I bowed. I could not trust myself to speak.

" I thought so," she murmured, gleefully, more to herself
than to me ; " and I have a right to all his papers and let-
ters." There she paused abruptly and checked herself.

I understood her. She wanted to get back her own letters
to the dead man, lest her intimacy with him should leak out
in some chance way for which she was unprepared. Cunning
devil ! I was almost glad she showed me to what a depth of
vulgar vice she had fallen. There was no question of pity
or forbearance in her case. If all the tortures invented by
savages or stern inquisitors could be heaped upon her at
once, such punishment would be light in comparison with
her crimes — crimes for which, mark you, the law gives you
no remedy but divorce. Tired of the wretched comedy, I
looked at my watch.

" It is time for me to take my leave of you," I said, in the
stiff, courtly manner I affected. " Moments fly fast in your
enchanting company ! But I have still to walk to Castella-
mare, there to rejoin my carriage, and I have many things to
attend to before my departure this evening. On my return
from Avellino shall I be welcome ? "

" You know it," she returned, nestling her head against
my shoulder, while for mere form's sake I was forced to
hold her in a partial embrace. " I only wish you were not
going at all. Dearest, do not stay long away — I shall be so
unhappy till you come back ! "
16

44* VEXDETTA!

" Absence strengthens love, they say," I observed, with a
forced smile. ** May it do so in our case. Farewell, cara
mia ! Pray for me ; I suppose you do pray a great deal
here ? "

" Oh, yes," she replied, naively ; " there is nothing else to
do."

I held her hands closely in my grasp. The engagement-
ring on her finger, and the diamond signet on my own,
flashed in the light like the crossing of swords.

" Pray then," I said, " storm the gates of heaven with
sweet-voiced pleadings for the repose of poor Ferrari's soul !
Remember he loved you, though you never loved him.
For your sake he quarreled with me, his best friend — for
your sake he died ! Pray for him — who knows," and I
spoke in thrilling tones of earnestness — " who knows but that
his too-hastily departed spirit may not be near us now — hear-
ing our voices, watching our looks ? "

She shivered slightly, and her hands in mine grew cold.

" Yes, yes," I continued, more calmly ; " you must not for-
get to pray for him — he was young and not prepared to die."

My words had some of the desired effect upon her — for
once her ready speech failed — she seemed as though she
sought for some reply and found none. I still held her hands.

" Promise me ! " I continued ; " and at the same time pray
for your dead husband ! He and poor Ferrari were close
friends, you know ; it will be pious and kind of you to join
their names in one petition addressed to Him * from whom
no secrets are hid,' and who reads with unerring eyes the
purity of your intentions. Will you do it ? "

She smiled, a forced, faint smile.

" I certainly will," she replied, in a low voice ; " I promise
you."

I released her hands — I was satisfied. If she dared to
pray thus I felt — I knew that she would draw down upon her
soul the redoubled wrath of Heaven ; for I looked beyond
the grave ! The mere death of her body would be but a
slight satisfaction to me ; it was the utter destruction of her
wicked soul that I sought. She should never repent, I
swore ; she should never have the chance of casting off her
vileness as a serpent casts its skin, and, reclothing herself in
innocence, presume to ask admittance into that Etern?*
Gloryland whither my little child had gone — never, ne/er!
No church should save her, no priest should absolve her —
not while / lived !

VENDETTA ! 243

She watched me as I fastened my coat and began to draw
on my gloves.

" Are you going now ? " she asked, somewhat timidly.

" Yes, I am going now, cara mia" I said. " Why ! what
makes you look so pale ? "

For she had suddenly turned very white.

" Let me see your hand again," she demanded, with fever-
ish eagerness, " the hand on which I placed the ring ! "

Smilingly and with readiness I took off the glove I had
just put on.

" What odd fancy possesses you now, little one ? " I asked,
with an air of playfulness.

She made no answer, but took my hand and examined it
closely and curiously. Then she looked up, her lips twitched
nervously, and she laughed a little hard mirthless laugh.

" Your hand," she murmured, incoherently, " with — that
— signet — on it — is exactly like — like Fabio's ! "

And before I had time to say a word she went off into a
violent fit of hysterics — sobs, little cries, and laughter all in-
termingled in that wild and reasonless distraction that gener-
ally unnerves the strongest man who is not accustomed to it.
I rang the bell to summon assistance ; a lay-sister answered
it, and seeing Nina's condition, rushed for a glass of water
and summoned Madame la Vicaire. This latter, entering with
her quiet step and inflexible demeanor, took in the situation
at a glance, dismissed the lay-sister, and possessing herself
of the tumbler of water, sprinkled the forehead of the inter-
esting patient, and forced some drops between her clinched
teeth. Then turning to me she inquired, with some stateli-
fiess of manner, what had caused the attack ?

" I really cannot tell you, madame," I said, with an air of
affected concern and vexation. " I certainly told the coun-
tess of the unexpected death of a friend, but she bore the
news with exemplary resignation. The circumstance that
appears to have so greatly distressed her is that she finds, or
says she finds, a resemblance between my hand and the hand
of her deceased husband. This seems to me absurd, but
there is no accounting for ladies' caprices."

And I shrugged my shoulders as though I were annoyed
and impatient.

Over the pale, serious face of the nun there flitted a smile
in which there was certainly the ghost of sarcasm.

" All sensitivene'' *~"d tenderness of heart, you see ! " slit
said, in her chill, p«^ionless tones, which, icy as they were.

244- VENDETTA I

somehow conveyed to my ear another meaning than that im-
plied by the words she uttered. " We cannot perhaps un-
derstand the extreme delicacy of her feelings, and we fail to
do justice to them."

Here Nina opened her eyes, and looked at us with piteous
plaintiveness, while her bosom heaved with those long, deep
sighs which are the finishing chords of the Sonata Hysteria.

" You are better, I trust ? " continued the nun, without any
sympathy in her monotonous accents, and addressing her
with some reserve. " You have greatly alarmed the Count
Oliva."

" I am sorry " began Nina, feebly.

I hastened to her side.

" Pray do not speak of it ! " I urged, forcing something
like a lover's ardor into my voice. " I regret beyond
measure that it is my misfortune to have hands like those of
your late husband ! I assure you I am quite miserable
about it. Can you forgive me ? "

She was recovering quickly, and she was evidently con-
scious that she had behaved somewhat foolishly. She smiled
a weak pale smile ; but she looked very scared, worn and ill.
She rose from her chair slowly and languidly.

" I think I will go to my room," she said, not regarding
Mere Marguerite, who had withdrawn to a little distance,
and who stood rigidly erect, immovably featured, with her
silver crucifix glittering coldly on her still breast.

" Good-bye, Cesare 1 Please forget my stupidity, and write
to me from Avellino."

I took her outstretched hand, and bowing over it, touched
it gently with my lips. She turned toward the door, when
suddenly a mischievous idea seemed to enter her mind. She
looked at Madame la Vicaire and then came back to me.

" Addio, amor mio /" she said, with a sort of rapturous
emphasis, and throwing her arms round my neck she kissed
me almost passionately.

Then she glanced maliciously at the nun, who had lowered
her eyes till they appeared fast shut, and breaking into a low
peal of indolently amused laughter, waved her hand to me,
and left the room.

I was somewhat confused. The suddenness and warmth
of her caress had been, I knew, a mere monkeyish trick, de-
signed to vex the religious scruples of Mere Marguerite. I
knew not what to say to the stately woman who remained
confronting me with downcast eyes and lips that moved

VENDETTA! 245

dumbly as though in prayer. As the door closed after my
wife's retreating figure, the nun looked up ; there was a slight
flush on her pallid cheeks, and to my astonishment, tears
glittered on her dark lashes.

" Madame," I began, earnestly, " I assure you "

" Say nothing, signor," she interrupted me with a slight
deprecatory gesture ; " it is quite unnecessary. To mock a
religieuse is a common amusement with young girls and women
of the world. I am accustomed to it, though I feel its
cruelty more than I ought to do. Ladies like the Countess
Romani think that we — we, the sepulchers of womanhood —
sepulchers that we have emptied and cleansed to the best of
our ability, so that they may more fittingly hold the body of
the crucified Christ ; these grandes dames, I say, fancy that
we are ignorant of all they know — that we cannot understand
love, tenderness or passion. They never reflect — how should
they ? — that we also have had our histories — histories, per-
haps, that would make angels weep for pity ! I, even I "

and she struck her breast fiercely, then suddenly recollecting
herself, she continued coldly : " The rule of our convent,
signor, permits no visitor to remain longer than one hour —
that hour has expired. I will summon a sister to show you
the way out."

" Wait one instant, madame," I said, feeling that to enact
my part thoroughly I ought to attempt to make some defense
of Nina's conduct ; " permit me to say a word ! Myfanctt
is very young and thoughtless. I really cannot think that
her very innocent parting caress to me had anything in it
that was meant to purposely annoy you."

The nun glanced at me — her eyes flashed disdainfully.

" You think it was all affection for you, no doubt, signor ?

very natural supposition, and — I should be sorry to un-
deceive you."

She paused a moment and then resumed :

" You seem an earnest man — may be you are destined to
be the means of saving Nina ; I could say much — yet it is
wise to be silent. If you love her do not flatter her ; her
overweening vanity is her ruin. A firm, wise, ruling master-
hand may perhaps — who knows ? " She hesitated and sighed,
then added, gently, "Farewell, signor! Benedicite /" and
making the sign of the cross as I respectfully bent my head
to receive her blessing, she passed noiselessly from the
room.

One moment later, and a lame and aged lay-sister came tp

246 VENDETTA!

escort me to the gate. As I passed down the stone corridor
a side door opened a very little way, and two fair young faces
peeped out at me. For an instant I saw four laughing bright
eyes ; I heard a smothered voice say, " Oh ! c'est un vieux
papa / " and then my guide, who though lame was not blind,
perceived the opened door and shut it with an angry bang,
which, however, did not drown the ringing merriment that
echoed from within. On reaching the outer gates I turned
to my venerable companion, and laying four twenty-franc
pieces in her shriveled palm, I said :

" Take these to the reverend mother for me, and ask that
mass may be said in the chapel to-morrow for the repose of
the soul of him whose name is written here."

And I gave her Guido Ferrari's visiting-card, adding in
lower and more solemn tones :

" He met with a sudden and unprepared death. Of your
charity, pray also for the man who killed him ! "

The old woman looked startled, and crossed herself de-
voutly; but she promised that my wishes should be ful-
filled, and I bade her farewell and passed out, the convent
gates closing with a dull clang behind me. I walked on a
few yards, and then paused, looking back. What a peace-
ful home it seemed ; how calm and sure a retreat, with the
white Noisette roses crowning its ancient gray walls ! Yet
what embodied curses were pent up in there in the shape of
girls growing to be women ; women for whom all the care,
stern training and anxious solicitude of the nuns would be
unavailing; women who would come forth from even that
abode of sanctity with vile natures and animal impulses, and
who would hereafter, while leading a life of vice and hypo-
crisy, hold up this very strictness of their early education as
proof of their unimpeachable innocence and virtue ! To
such, what lesson is learned by the daily example of the nuns
who mortify their flesh, fast, pray and weep ? No lesson at
all — nothing save mockery and contempt. To a girl in the
heyday of youth and beauty the life of a religieuse seems
ridiculous. " The poor nuns ! " she says, with a laugh ;
they are so ignorant. Their time is over — mine has not yet
begun." Few, very few, among the thousands of young
women who leave the scene of their quiet schooldays for the
social whirligig of the world, ever learn to take life in earnest,
love in earnest, sorrow in earnest. To most of them life is
a large dressmaking and millinery establishment; love a
question of money and diamonds ; sorrow a solemn calcula-

VENDETTA f 247

tion as to now much or how little mourning is considered
becoming or fashionable. And for creatures such as these
we men work — work till our hairs are gray and our backs
bent with toil — work till all the joy and zest of living has
gone from us, and our reward is — what ? Happiness ?—
seldom. Infidelity ? — often. Ridicule ? Truly we ought to
be glad if we are only ridiculed and thrust back to occupy
the second place in our own houses ; our lady-wives call that
" kind treatment." Is there a married woman living who
does not now and then throw a small stone of insolent satire
at her husband when his back is turned ? What, madam e ?
You, who read these words — you say with indignation :
" Certainly there is, and / am that woman ! " Ah, truly ? I
salute you profoundly ! — you are, no doubt, the one excep-
tion !

CHAPTER XXVIII.

AVELLINO is one of those dreamy, quiet and picturesque
towns which have not as yet been desecrated by the Vandal
tourist. Persons holding "through tickets" from Messrs.
Cook or Gaze do not stop there — there are no " sights " save
the old sanctuary called Monte Virgine standing aloft on its
rugged hill, with all the memories of its ancient days clinging
to it like a wizard's cloak, and wrapping it in a sort of mys-
terious meditative silence. It can look back through a vista
of eventful years to the eleventh century, when it was erected,
so the people say, on the ruins of a temple of Cybele. But
what do the sheep and geese that are whipped abroad in
herds by the drovers Cook and Gaze know of Monte Virgine
or Cybele? Nothing — an d they care less ; and quiet Avellino
.escapes from their depredations, thankful that it is not
marked on the business map of the drovers' " runs.'" jShut
in by the lofty Apennines, built on the slope of the hill that
winds gently down into a green and fruitful valley through
which the river Sabato rushes and gleams white against cleft
rocks that look like war-worn and deserted castles, a drowsy
peace encircles it, and a sort of stateliness, which, compared
with the riotous fun and folly of Naples only thirty miles
away, is as though the statue of a nude Egeria were placed
in rivalry with the painted waxen image of a half-dressed
ballet-dancer. Few lovelier sights are to be seen in nature
than a sunset from one of the smaller hills round

24S VENDETTA 1

when the peaks of the Apennines seem to catch fire from the
flaming clouds, and below them, the valleys are full of those
tender purple and gray shadows that one sees on the canvases
of Salvator Rosa, while the town itself looks like a bronzed
carving on an old shield, outlined clearly against the dazzling
luster of the sky. To this retired spot I came — glad to rest
for a time from my work of vengeance — glad to lay dowa my
burden of bitterness for a brief space, and become, as it
were, human again, in the sight of the near mountains. For
within their close proximity, things common, things mean
seem to slip from the soul — a sort of largeness pervades the
thoughts, the cramping prosiness of daily life has no room to
assertjts sway — a grand hush falls on the stormy waters of
passion, and like a chidden babe the strong man stands,
dwarfed to an infinite littleness in his own sight, before those
majestic monarchs of the landscape whose large brows are
crowned with the blue circlet of heaven.

I took up my abode in a quiet, almost humble lodging,
living simply, and attended only by Vincenzo. I was tired
of the ostentation I had been forced to practice in Naples in
order to attain my ends — and it was a relief to me to be fora
time as though I were a poor man. The house in which I
found rooms that suited me was a ramblingly built, pictur-
esque little place, situated on the outskirts of the town, and
the woman who owned it, was, in her way, a character. She
was a Roman, she told me, with pride flashing in her black
eyes — I could guess that at once by her strongly marked
features, her magnificently molded figure, and her free, firm
tread — that step which is swift without being hasty, which is
the manner born of Rome. She told me her history in a few
words, with such eloquent gestures that she seemed to live
through it again as she spoke : her husband had been a
worker in a marble quarry — one of his fellows had let a huge
piece of the rock fall on him, and he was crushed to death.

" And well do I know," she said, " that he killed my Toni
purposely, for he would have loved me had he dared. But I
am a common woman, see you — and it seems to me one can-
not lie. And when my love's poor body was scarce covered
in the earth, that miserable one — the murderer — came to me
—he offered marriage. I accused him of his crime — he de-
nied it — he said the rock slipped from his hands, he knew
not how. I struck him on the mouth, and bade him leave
my sight and take my curse with him ! He is dead now — and
surely if the saints have heard me, his soul is not in heaven J "

VENDETTA ! 249

Thus she spoke with flashing eyes and purposeful energy,
while with her strong brown arms she threw open the wide
casement of the sitting-room I had taken, and bade me view
her orchard. It was a fresh green strip of verdure and
foliage — about eight acres of good land, planted entirely with
apple-trees.

" Yes, truly ! " she said, showing her white teeth in a pleased
smile as I made the admiring remark she expected. " Avel-
lino has long had a name for its apples — but, thanks to the
Holy Mother, I think in the season there is no fruit in all
the neighborhood finer than mine. The produce of it brings
me almost enough to live upon — that and the house, when I
can find signori willing to dwell with me. But few strangers
come hither ; sometimes an artist, sometimes a poet — such
as these are soon tired of gayety, and are glad to rest. To
common persons I would not open my door — not for pride,
ah, no ! but when one has a girl, one cannot be too careful."

'* You have a daughter, then ? "

Her fierce eyes softened.

" One — my Lilla. I call her my blessing, and too good
for me. Often I fancy that it is because she tends them that
the trees bear so well, and the apples are so sound and sweet !
And when she drives the load of fruit to market, and sits so
smilingly behind the team, it seems to me that her very face
brings luck to the sale."

I smiled at the mother's enthusiasm, and sighed. I had no
fair faiths left — I could not even believe in Lilla. My land-
lady, Signora Monti as she was called, saw that I looked
fatigued, and left me to myself — and during my stay I saw
very little of her, Vincenzo constituting himself my major-
domo, or rather becoming for my sake a sort of amiable slave,
always looking to the smallest details of my comfort, and
studying my wishes with an anxious solicitude that touched
while it gratified me. I had been fully three days in my re-
treat before he ventured to enter upon any conversation with
me, for he had observed that I always sought to be alone,
that 1 took long, solitary rambles through the woods and
across the hills — and, not daring to break through my taci-
turnity, he had contented himself by merely attending to my
material comforts in silence. One afternoon, however, after
clearing away the remains of my light luncheon, he lingered
in the room.

" The eccellenza has not yet seen Lilla Monti ? " he asked,
JifsiUtingly,

250 VENDETTA!

I looked at him in some surprise. There was a blush on
his olive-tinted cheeks and an unusual sparkle in his eyes.
For the first time I realized that this valet of mine w;is a
handsome young fellow.

" Seen Lilla Monti ! " I repeated, half absently ; "oh, you
mean the child of the landlady? No, I have not seen her.
Why do you ask?"

Vincenzo smiled. "Pardon, eccellenza ! but she is beau-
tiful, and there is a saying in my province: Be the heart
heavy as stone, the sight of a fair face will lighten it ! "

I gave an impatient gesture. " All folly, Vincenzo ! Beauty
is the curse of the world. Read .history, and you shall find
the greatest conquerors and sages ruined and disgraced by
its snares."

He nodded gravely. He probably thought of the an-
nouncement I had made at the banquet of my own approach-
ing marriage, and strove to reconcile it with the apparent
inconsistency of my present observation. But he was too
discreet to utter his mind aloud — he merely said :

" No doubt you are right, eccellenza. Still one is glad to
see the roses bloom, and the stars shine, and the foam-bells
sparkle on the waves — so one is glad to see Lilla Monti."

I turned round in my chair to observe him more closely —
the flush deepened on his cheek as I regarded him. I
laughed with a bitter sadness.

" In love, amico, art thou ? So soon ! — three days — and
thou hast fallen a prey to the smile of Lilla ! I am sorry for
thee ! "

He interrupted me eagerly.

" The eccellenza is in error ! I would not dare — she is
too innocent — she knows nothing ! She is like a little bird
in the nest, so soft and tender — a word of love would frighten
her ; I should be a coward to utter it."

Well, well ! I thought, what was the use of sneering at the
poor fellow ! Why, because my own love had turned to ashes
in my grasp, should I mock at those who fancied they had
found the golden fruit of the Hesperides ? Vincenzo, once a
soldier, now half courier, half valet, was something of a poet
at heart; he had the grave meditative turn of mind common
to Tuscans, together with that amorous fire that ever burns
under their lightly worn mask of seeming reserve.

I roused myself to appear interested.

" I see, Vincenzo," I said, with a kindly air of banter, " that
the sight of Lilla Monti more than compensates you for that

VENDETTA! 251

portion of the Neapolitan carnival which you lose by being
here. But why you should wish me to behold this paragon
of maidens I know not, unless you would have me regret my
own lost youth."

A curious and perplexed expression flitted over his face.
At last he said firmly, as though his mind were made up :

" The eccellenza must pardon me for seeing what perhaps
I ought not to have seen, but "

" But what ? " I asked.

" Eccellenza, you have not lost your youth."

I turned my head toward him again — he was looking at me
in some alarm — he feared some outburst of anger.

" Well ! " I said, calmly. " That is your idea, is it ? and
why ? "

" Eccellenza, I saw you without your spectacles that day
when you fought with the unfortunate Signer Ferrari. I
watched you when you fired. Your eyes are beautiful arrd
terrible — the eyes of a young man, though your hair is white."

Quietly I took off my glaases and laid them on the table
beside me. ,

" As you have seen me once without them, you can see me
again," I observed, gently. " I wear them for a special pur-
pose. Here in Avellino the purpose does not hold. Thus
far I confide in you. But beware how you betray my confi-
dence."

" Eccellenza ! " cried Vincenzo, in truly pained accents, and
with a grieved look.

I rose and laid my hand on his arm.

" There ! I was wrong — forgive me. You are honest ; you
have served your country well enough to know the value of
fidelity and duty. But when you say I have not lost my youth,
you are wrong, Vincenzo ! I have lost it — it has been killed
within me by a great sorrow. The strength, the suppleness
of limb, the brightness of eye, these are mere outward things :
but in the heart and soul are the chill and drear bitterness of
deserted age. Nay, do not smile ; I am in truth very old — so
old that I tire of my length of days ; yet again, not too old to
appreciate your affection, amico, and " — here I forced a faint
smile — " when I see the maiden Lilla, I will tell you frankly
what I think of her."

Vincenzo stooped his head, caught my hand within his own,
and kissed it, then left the room abruptly, to hide the tears
that my words had brought to his eyes. He was sorry for me,
J could see, and I judged him rightly when I thought that th§

252 VENDETTA!

very mystery surrounding me increased his attachment. On
the whole, I was glad he had seen me undisguised, as it was
a relief to me to be without my smoked glasses for a time, and
during all the rest of my stay at Avellino I never wore them
once.

One day I saw Lilla. I had strolled up to a quaint church
situated on a rugged hill and surrounded by fine old chestnut-
trees, where there was a picture of the Scourging of Christ,
said to have been the work of Fra Angelico. The little
sanctuary was quite deserted when 1 entered it, and I paused
on the threshold, touched by the simplicity of the place and
soothed by the intense silence. I walked on my tiptoe up to
the corner where hung the picture I had come to see, and as
I did so a girl passed me with a light step, carrying a basket
of fragrant winter narcissi and maiden-hair fern. Something in
her graceful, noiseless movements caused me to look after her ;
but she had turned her back to me and was kneeling at the
shrine consecrated to the Virgin, having placed her flowers on
the lowest step of the altar. She was dressed in peasant cos-
tume— a simple, short blue skirt and scarlet bodice, relieved
by the white kerchief that was knotted about her shoulders;
and round her small well-shaped head the rich chestnut hair
was coiled in thick shining braids.

I felt that I must see her face, and for that reason went
back to the church door and waited till she should pass out.
Very soon she came toward me, with the same light timid
step that I had often before noticed, and her fair young
features were turned fully upon me. What was there in those
clear candid eyes that made me involuntarily bow my head in
a reverential salutation as she passed ? I know not. It was
not beauty — for though the child was lovely I had seen
lovelier ; it was something inexplicable and rare — something
of a maidenly composure and sweet dignity that I had never
beheld on any woman's face before. Her cheeks flushed
softly as she modestly returned my salute, and when she was
once outside the church door she paused, her small white
fingers still clasping the carven brown beads of her rosary.
She hesitated a moment, and then spoke shyly yet brightly :

" If the eccellenza will walk yet a little further up the hill
he will see a finer view of the mountains."

Something familiar in her look — a sort of reflection of her
mother's likeness — made me sure of her identity. I smiled,

" Ah ! you are Lilla Monti ? "

She blushed again,

VENDETTA I 253

"Si, signoi-. lam Lilla."

I let my eyes dwell on her searchingly and almost sadly.
Vincenzo was right : the girl was beautiful, not with the
forced hot-house beauty of the social world and its artificial
constraint, but with the loveliness and fresh radiance which
nature gives to those of her cherished ones who dwell with
her in peace. I had seen many exquisite women — women of
Juno-like form and face — women whose eyes were basilisks to
draw and compel the souls of men — but I had never seen
any so spiritually fair as this little peasant maiden, who
stood fearlessly yet modestly regarding me with the innocent
inquiry of a child who suddenly sees something new, to which
it is unaccustomed. She was a little fluttered by my earnest
gaze, and with a pretty courtesy turned to descend the hill.
I said gently :

" You are going home, fauciulla mia ? "

The kind protecting tone in which I spoke reassured her.
She answered readily :

" Si signer. My mother waits for me to help her with the
eccellenza's dinner."

I advanced and took the little hand that held the rosary.

" What ! " I exclaimed, playfully, " do you still work hard,
little Lilla, even when the apple season is over ? "

She laughed musically.

" Oh ! I love work. It is good for the temper. People
are so cross when their hands are idle. And many are ill for
the same reason. Yes, truly ! " and she nodded her head
with grave importance, " it is often so. Old Pietro, the cob-
bler, took to his bed when he had no shoes to mend — yes ;
he sent for the priest and said he would die, not for want of
money — oh no ! he has plenty, he is quite rich — but because
he had nothing to do. So my mother and I found some
shoes with holes, and took them to him ; he sat up in bed to
mend them, and now he is as well as ever ! And we are
careful to give him something always."

She laughed again, and again looked grave.

" Yes, yes ! " she said, with a wise shake of her little
glossy head, " one cannot live without work. My mother
says that good women are never tired, it is only wicked per-
sons who are lazy. And that reminds me I must make
haste to return and prepare the eccellenza's coffee."

" Do you make my coffee, little one ? " I asked, " and does
not Vincenzo help you ? "

The faintest suspicion of a blush tinged her pretty cheeks.

254 VENDETTA .'

" Oh, he is very good, Vincenzo," she said, demurely,
with downcast eyes; "he is what we call buon' amico, yes,
indeed ! But he is often glad when I make coffee for him
also ; he likes it so much ! He says I do it so well ! But
perhaps the eccellenza will prefer Vincenzo ? "

I laughed. She was so naive, so absorbed in her little
duties — such a child altogether.

" Nay, Lilla, I am proud to think you make anything for
me. I shall enjoy it more now that I know what kind hands
have been at work. But you must not spoil Vincenzo — you
will turn his head if you make his coffee too often."

She looked surprised. She did not understand. Evi-
dently to her mind Vincenzo was nothing but a good-natured
young fellow, whose palate could be pleased by her culinary
skill ; she treated him, I dare say, exactly as she would have
treated one of her own sex. She seemed to think over
my words, as one who considers a conundrum, then she
apparently gave it up as hopeless, and shook her head
lightly as though dismissing the subject.

" Will the eccellenza visit the Punto d'Angelo ? " she said
brightly, as she turned to go.

I had never heard of this place, and asked her to what she
alluded.

" It is not far from here," she explained, " it is the view I
spoke of before. Just a little further up the hill you will see
a flat gray rock, covered with blue gentians. No one knows
how they grow — they are always there, blooming in summer
and winter. But it said that one of God's own great angels
comes once in every month at midnight to bless the Monte
Vergine, and that he stands on that rock. And of course
wherever the angels tread there are flowers, and no storm
can destroy them — not even an avalanche. That is why the
people call it the Punto d'Angelo. It will please you to see
it, eccellenza — it is but a walk of a little ten minutes."

And with a smile, and a courtesy as pretty and as light as
a flower might make to the wind, she left me, half running,
half dancing down the hill, and singing aloud for sheer happi-
ness and innocence of heart. Her pure lark-like notes floated
upward toward me where I stood, wistfully watching her as
she disappeared. The warm afternoon sunshine caught
lovingly at her chestnut hair, turning it to a golden bronze,
and touched up the whiteness of her throat and arms, and
brightened the scarlet of her bodice, as she descended the
grassy slope, and was at last lost to my view amid the foliage
of the surrounding trees.

VENDETTA I 255

CHAPTER XXIX.

I SIGHED heavily as I resumed my walk. I realized all
that I had lost. This lovely child with her simple fresh
nature, why had I not met such a one and wedded her instead
of the vile creature who had been my soul's undoing ? The
answer came swiftly. Even if I had seen her when I was
free, I doubt if I should have known her value. We men
of the world who have social positions to support, we see
little or nothing in the peasant type of womanhood ; we must
marry " ladies," so-called — educated girls who are as well
versed in the world's ways as ourselves, if not more so.
And so we get the Cleopatras, the Du Barrys, the Pom-
padours, while unspoiled maidens such as Lilla too often
become the household drudges of common mechanics or
day-laborers, living and dying in the one routine of hard
work, and often knowing and caring for nothing better than
the mountain-hut, the farm-kitchen, or the covered stall in
the market-place. Surely it is an ill-balanced world — so
many mistakes are made ; Fate plays us so many apparently
unnecessary tricks, and we are all of us such blind madmen,
knowing not whither we are going from one day to another !
I am told that it is no longer fashionable to believe in a
devil — but I care nothing for fashion ! A devil there is I
am sure, who for some inscrutable reason has a share in the
ruling of this planet — a devil who delights in mocking us
from the cradle to the grave. And perhaps we are never so
hopelessly, utterly fooled as in our marriages !

Occupied in various thoughts, I scarcely saw where I
wandered, till a flashing glimmer of blue blossoms recalled
me to the object of my walk. I had reached the Punto
d'Angelo. It was, as Lilla had said, a flat rock bare in every
place save at the summit, where it was thickly covered with
the lovely gentians, flowers that are rare in this part of Italy.
Here then the fabled angel paused in his flight to bless
the venerable sanctuary of Monte Vergine. I stopped and
looked around me. The view was indeed superb — from the
leafy bosom of the valley, the green hills like smooth, un-
dulating billows rolled upward, till their emerald verdure
was lost in the dense purple shadows and tall peaks of the
Apennines ; the town of Avellino lay at my feet, small yet

256 VENDETTA !

clearly defined as a miniature painting on porclain ; and a
little further beyond and above me rose the gray tower of the
Monte Vergine itself, the one sad and solitary-looking object
in all the luxuriant riante landscape.

I sat down to rest, not as an intruder on the angel's flower-
embroidered throne, but »n a grassy knoll close by. And
then I bethought me of a packet I had received from Naples
that morning — a packet that I desired yet hesitated to open.
It had been sent by the Marquis D'Avencourt, accompanied
by a courteous letter, which informed me that Ferrari's body
had been privately buried with all the last religious rites in
the cemetery, " close to the funeral vault of the Roman!
family," wrote D'Avencourt, " as, from all we can hear or
discover, such seems to have been his own desire. He was,
it appears, a sort of adopted brother of the lately deceased
count, and on being informed of this circumstance, we buried
him in accordance with the sentiments he would no doubt
have expressed had he considered the possible nearness of
his own end at the time of the combat."

With regard to the packet inclosed, D'Avencourt continued
— " The accompanying letters were found in Ferrari's breast-
pocket, and on opening the first one, in the expectation of
finding some clew as to his last wishes, we came to the con-
clusion that you, as the future husband of the lady whose
signature and handwriting you will here recognize, should
be made aware of the contents, not only for your own sake,
but in justice to the deceased. If all the letters are of the
same tone as the one I unknowingly opened, I have no doubt
Ferrari considered himself a sufficiently injured man. But
of that you will judge for yourself, though, if I might venture
so far in the way of friendship, I should recommend you to
give careful consideration to the inclosed correspondence
before tying the matrimonial knot to which you alluded the
other evening. It is nol wise to walk on the edge of a pre-
cipice with one's eyes shut ! Captain Ciabatti was the first
to inform me of what I now know for a fact — namely, that
Ferrari left a will in which everything he possessed is made
over unconditionally to the Countess Romani. You will of
course draw your own conclusions, and pardon me if I am
guilty of trap de zele in your service. I have now only to tell
you that all the unpleasantness of this affair is passing over
very smoothly and without scandal — I have taken care of
that. You need not prolong your absence further than you
feePmclined, and I, for one, shall be charmed to welcome

VENDETTA! 357-

you back to Naples. With every sentiment of the highest
consideration and regard, I am, my dear conte,

" Your very true friend and servitor,

"PHILIPPE D'AVENCOURT."

I folded this letter carefully and put it aside. The little
package he had sent me lay in my hand — a bundle of neatly
folded letters tied together with a narrow ribbon, and
strongly perfumed with the faint sickly perfume I knew and
abhorred. I turned them over and over ; the edges of the
note-paper were stained with blood — Guide's blood — as
though in its last sluggish flowing it had endeavored to
obliterate all traces of the daintily penned lines that now
awaited my perusal. Slowly I untied the ribbon. With
methodical deliberation I read one letter after the other.
They were all from Nina — all written to Guido while he was
in Rome, some of them bearing the dates of the very days
when she had feigned to love me — me, her newly accepted
husband. One very amorous epistle had been written on
the self-same evening she had plighted her troth to me !
Letters burning and tender, full of the most passionate protes-
tations of fidelity, overflowing with the sweetest terms of en-
dearment ; with such a ring of truth and love throughout
them that surely it was no wonder that Guide's suspicions
were all unawakened, and that he had reason to believe him-
self safe in his fool's paradise. One passage in this poet-
ical and romantic correspondence fixed my attention : it ran
thus :

" Why do you write so much of marriage to me, Guido
mio ? it seems to my mind that all the joy of loving will be
taken from us when once the hard world knows of our
passion. If you become my husband you will assuredly
cease to be my lover, and'that would break my heart. Ah,
my best beloved ! I desire you to be my lover always, as
you were when Fabio lived — why bring commonplace matri-
mony into the heaven of such a passion as ours ? "

I studied these words attentively. Of course I understood
their drift. She had tried to feel her way with the dead man.
She had wanted to marry me, and yet retain Guido for her
lonely hours, as " her lover always ! " Such a pretty, ingen-
ious plan it was ! No thief, no murderer ever laid more
cunning schemes than she ; but the law looks after thieves
and murderers. For such a woman as this, law says,
" Divorce her — that is your best remedy." Divorce her I

258 VENDETTA !

Let the criminal go scot-free ! Others may do it that choose
— I have different ideas of justice !

Tying up the packet of letters again, with their sickening
perfume and their blood-stained edges, I drew out the last
graciously worded missive I had received from Nina. Of
course I heard from her every day — she was a most faithful
correspondent ! The same affectionate expressions character-
ized her letters to me as those that had deluded her dead
lover — with this difference, that whereas she inveighed much
against the prosiness of marriage to Guido, to me she drew
the much touching pictures of her desolate condition : how
lonely she had felt since her " dear husband's " death, how
rejoiced she was to think that she was soon again to be a
happy wife — the wife of one so noble, so true, so devoted as
I was ! She had left the convent and was now at home —
when should she have the happiness of welcoming me, her
best beloved Cesare, back to Naples ? She certainly de-
served some credit for artistic lying ; I could not understand
how she managed it so well. Almost I admired her skill,
as one sometimes admires a cool-headed burglar, who has
more skill, cunning, and pluck than his comrades. I thought
with triumph that though the wording of Ferrari's will en-
abled her to secure all other letters she might have written
to him, this one little packet of documentary evidence was
more than sufficient for my purposes. And 1 resolved to re-
tain it in my own keeping till the time came for me to use it
against her.

And how about D'Avencourt's friendly advice concerning
the matrimonial knot ? " A man should not walk on the edge
of a precipice with his eyes shut." Very true. But if his
eyes are open, and he has his enemy by the throat, the edge
of a precipice is a convenient position for hurling that
enemy down to death in a quiet way, that the world need
know nothing of ! So for the present I preferred the preci-
pice to walking on level ground.

I rose from my seat near the Punto d'Angelo. It was
growing late in the afternoon. From the little church below
me soft bells rang out the Angelus, and with them chimed
in a solemn and harsher sound from the turret of the Monte
Vergine. I lifted my hat with the customary reverence, and
stood listening, with my feet deep in the grass and scented
thyme, and more than once glanced up at the height where-
on the venerable sanctuary held its post, like some lonely
old god of memory brooding over vanished years. There,

VENDETTA !

tccording to tradition, was once celebrated the worship of
the many-breasted Cybele ; down that very slope of grass
dotted with violets had rushed the howling, naked priests
beating their discordant drums and shrinking their laments
for the loss of Atys, the beautiful youth, their goddess's par-
amour. Infidelity again ! — even in this ancient legend, what
did Cybele care for old Saturn, whose wife she was ?
Nothing, less than nothing! — and her adorers worshiped not
her chastity, but her faithlessness; it is the way of the world
to this day!

The bells ceased ringing; I descended the hill and returned
homeward through a shady valley, full of the odor of pines
and bog-myrtle. On reaching the gate of the Signora Monti's
humble yet picturesque dwelling, I heard the sound of
laughter and clapping of hands, and looking in the direction
of the orchard, I saw Vincenzo hard at work, his shirt-sleeves
rolled up to the shoulder, splitting some goodly logs of wood,
while Lilla stood beside him, merrily applauding and encour-
aging his efforts. He seemed quite in his element, and
wielded his ax with a regularity and vigor I should scarcely
have expected from a man whom I was accustomed to see
performing the somewhat effeminate duties of a valet-de-
chambre. I watched him and the fair girl beside him for a
few moments, myself unperceived.

If this little budding romance were left alone it would ripen
into a flower, and Vincenzo would be a happier man than his
master. He was a true Tuscan, from the very way he handled
his wood-ax ; I could see that he loved the life of the hills
and fields — the life of a simple farmer and fruit-grower, full
of innocent enjoyments, as sweet as the ripe apples in his
orchard. I could foresee his future with Lilla beside him.
He would have days of unwearying contentment, rendered
beautiful by the free fresh air and the fragrance of flowers —
his evenings would slip softly by to the tinkle of the mando-
lin, and the sound of his wife and children's singing.

What fairer fate could a man desire ? — what life more cer-
tain to keep health in the body and peace in the mind ?
Could I not help him to his happiness, I wondered ? I, who
had grown stern with long brooding upon my vengeance —
could I not aid in bringing joy to others ! If I could, my
mind would be somewhat lightened of its burden — a burden
grown heavier since Guide's death, for from his blood had
sprung forth a new group of Furies, that lashed me on to my
task with scorpion whips of redoubled wrath and passionate

260 VENDETTA!

ferocity. Yet if I could do one good action now — would it
not be as a star shining in the midst of my soul's storm and
darkness ? Just then Lilla laughed — how sweetly ! — the
laugh of a very young child. What amused her now ? I
looked, and saw that she had taken the ax from Vinccnzo,
and lifting it in her little hands, was endeavoring bravely to
imitate his strong and telling stroke ; he meanwhile stood
aside with an air of smiling superiority, mingled with a good
deal of admiration for the slight active figure arrayed in the
blue kirtle and scarlet bodice, on which the warm rays of the
late sun fell with so much amorous tenderness. Poor little
Lilla ! A penknife would have made as much impression as
her valorous blows produced on the inflexible, gnarled, knotty
old stump she essayed to split in twain. Flushed and breath-
less with her efforts, she looked prettier than ever, and at last,
baffled, she resigned her ax to Vincenzo, laughing gayly at
her incapacity for wood-cutting, and daintily shaking her
apron free from the chips and dust, till a call from her
mother caused her to run swiftly into the house, leaving
Vincenzo working away as arduously as ever. I went up to
him ; he saw me approaching, and paused in his labors with
an air of slight embarrassment.

" You like this sort of work, amico ? " I said, gently.

" An old habit, eccellenza — nothing more. It reminds me
of the days of my youth, when I worked for my mother.
Ah ! a pleasant place it was — the old home just above
Fiesole." His eyes grew pensive and sad. "It is all gone
now — finished. That was before I became a soldier. But
one thinks of it sometimes."

" I understand. And no doubt you would be glad to re-
turn to the life of your boyhood ? "

He looked a little startled.

" Not to leave you, eccellenza ! "

I smiled rather sadly. "Not to leave me? Not if you
wedded Lilla Monti ? "

His olive cheek flushed, but he shook his head.

"Impossible! She would not listen tome. She is a child."

" She will soon be a woman, believe me ! A little more of
your company will make her so. But there is plenty of time.
She is beautiful, as you said : and something better than that,
she is innocent — think of that, Vincenzo ! Do you know
how rare a thing innocence is — in a woman ? Respect it as
you respect God ; let her young life be sacred to you."

He glanced upward reverently.

VENDETTA ! 261

" Eccellenza, I would as soon tear the Madonna from her
altars as vex or frighten Lilla ! "

I smiled and said no more, but turned into the house. From
that moment I resolved to let this little love-idye have a fair
chance of success. Therefore I remained at Avellino much
longer than I had at first intended, not for my own sake,
but for Vincenzo's. He served me faithfully ; he should have
his reward. I took a pleasure in noticing that my efforts to
promote his cause were not altogether wasted. I spoke with
Lilla often on indifferent matters that interested her, and
watched her constantly when she was all unaware of my ob
servant gaze. With me she was as frank and fearless as a
tame robin ; but after some days I found that she grew shy
of mentioning the name of Vincenzo, that she blushed when
he approached her, that she was timid of asking him to do
anything for her ; and from all these little signs I knew her
mind, as one knows by the rosy streaks in the sky that the
sunrise is near.

One afternoon I called the Signora Monti to my room.
She came, surprised, and a little anxious. Was anything
wrong with the service ? I reassured her housewifely scruples,
and came to the point at once.

" I would speak to you of your child, the little Lilla," I
said, kindly. " Have you ever thought that she may marry ? "

Her dark bold eyes filled with tears and her lips quivered.

" Truly I have," she replied with a wistful sadness ; " but I
have prayed, perhaps foolishly, that she would not leave me
yet. I love her so well ; she is always a babe to me, so
small and sweet ! I put the thought of her marriage from
me as a sorrowful thing."

" I understand your feeling," I said. " Still, suppose
your daughter wedded a man who would be to you as a son,
and who would not part her from you ? — for instance, let us
say Vincenzo? "

Signora Monti smiled through her tears.

" Vincenzo ! He is a good lad, a very good lad, and I
love him ; but he does not think of Lilla — he is devoted to
the eccellenza."

" I am aware of his devotion," I answered. " Still I be-
lieve you will find out soon that he loves your Lilla. At pres-
ent he says nothing — he fears to offend you and alarm her;
but his eyes speak — so do hers. You are a good woman, a
good mother ; watch them both, you will soon tell whether
love is between them or no. And see," here I handed her a

262 VENDETTA t

sealed envelope, " in this you will find notes to the amount
of four thousand francs." She uttered a little cry of amaze-
ment. " It is Lilla's dowry, whoever she marries, though I
think she will marry Vincenzo. Nay — no thanks, money is
of no value to me ; and this is the one pleasure 1 have had
for many weary months. Think well of Vincenzo — he is an
excellent fellow. And all I ask of you is, that you keep this
little dowry a secret till the day of your fair child's espou-
sals. "

Before I could prevent her the enthusiastic woman had
seized my hand and kissed it. Then she lifted her head with
the proud free-born dignity of a Roman matron ; her broad
bosom heaved, and her strong voice quivered with suppressed
emotion.

" I thank you, signor," she said, simply, " for Lilla's sake !
Not that my little one needs more than her mother's hands
have toiled for, thanks be to the blessed saints who have had
us both in their keeping ! But this is a special blessing of
God sent through your hands, and I should be unworthy of
all projperity were I not grateful. Eccellenza, pardon me,
but my eyes are quick to see that you have suffered sorrow.
Good actions lighten grief ! We will pray for your happiness,
Lilla and I, till the last breath leaves our lips. Believe it —
the name of our benefactor shall be lifted to the saints night
and morning, and who knows but good may come of it ! "

I smiled faintly.

" Good will come of it, my excellent signora, though I am
all unworthy of your prayers. Rather pray," and I sighed
heavily, "for the dead, ''that they may be loosed from their
sins: "

The good woman looked at me with a sort of kindly pity
mingled with awe, then murmuring once more her thanks and
blessing, she left the room. A few minutes afterward Vin-
cenzo entered. I addressed him cheerfully.

'* Absence is the best test of love, Vincenzo ; prepare all
for our departure ! We shall leave Avellino the day after
to-morrow."

And so we did. Lilla looked slightly downcast, but Vin-
cenzo seemed satisfied, and I augured from their faces, and
from the mysterious smile of Signor Monti, that all was going
well. I left the beautiful mountain town with regret, know-
ing I should see it no more. I touched Lilla's fair cheek light-
ly at parting, and took what T knew was my last look into the
sweet candid young face. \et the consciousness tha.t J had

VENDETTA! 263

done some little good gave my tired heart a sense of satisfac-
tion and repose — a feeling I had not experienced since I died
and rose again from the dead.

On the last day of January I returned to Naples, after an
absence of more than a month, and was welcomed back by all
my numerous acquaintance with enthusiasm. The Marquis
D'Avencourt had informed me rightly — the affair of the duel
was a thing of the past — an almost forgotten circumstance.
The carnival was in full riot, the streets were scenes of fantastic
mirth and revelry ; there was music and song, dancing and
masquerading, and feasting. But I withdrew from the tumult
of merriment, and absorbed myself in the necessary prepara-
tions for — my marriage.

CHAPTER XXX.

LOOKING back on the incidents of those strange feveris!
weeks that preceded my wedding-day, they seemed to me lik*.
the dreams of a dying man. Shifting colors, confused
images, moments of clear light, hours of long darkness — alf
things gross, refined, material, and spiritual were shaken up
in my life like the fragments in a kaleidoscope, ever chang
ing into new forms and bewildering patterns. My brain was.
clear ; yet I often questioned myself whether I was not go-
ing mad — whether all the careful methodical plans I formed
were but the hazy fancies of a hopelessly disordered mind ?
Yet no ; each detail of my scheme was too complete, too
consistent, too business-like for that. A madman may have
a method of action to a certain extent, but there is always
some slight slip, some omission, some mistake which helps
to discover his condition. Now, / forgot nothing — I had
the composed exactitude of a careful banker who balances
his accounts with the most elaborate regularity. I can laugh
to think of it all now ; but then — then I moved, spoke, and
acted like a human machine impelled by stronger force§
than my own — in all things precise, in all things inflexible.

Within the week of my return from Avellino my coming
marriage with the Countess Romani was announced. Two
days after it had been made public, while sauntering across
the Largo del Castello, I met the Marquis D'Avencourt. I
had not seen him since the morning of the duel, and his pres-
€nc$ gave n?.? a sort of nervous shock. He was exceedingly

264 VENDETTA!

cordial, though I fancied he was also slightly embarrassed
After a few commonplace remarks he said, abruptly :

" So your marriage will positively take place ? "

I forced a laugh.

" Ma / certamente / Do you doubt it ? "

His handsome face clouded and his manner grew still more
constrained.

" No ; but I thought — I had hoped—

" Man cher" I said, airily, " I perfectly understand to what
you allude. But we men of the world are not fastidious —
we know better than to pay any heed to the foolish love-fan-
cies of a woman before her marriage, so long as she does not
trick us afterward. The letters you sent me were trifles,
mere trifles ! In wedding the Contessa Romani I assure you
I believe I secure the most virtuous as well as the most;
lovely woman in Europe ! " And I laughed again heartily.

D'Avencourt looked puzzled ; but he was a punctilious
man, and knew how to steer clear of a delicate subject. He
smiled.

" A la bonne heure" he said — " I wish you joy with all my
heart! You are the best judge of your own happiness; as
for me — vive la liberte ! "

And with a gay parting salute he left me. No one else in
the city appeared to share his foreboding scruples, if he had
any, about my forthcoming marriage. It was everywhere
talked of with as much interest and expectation as though it
were some new amusement invented to heighten the merri-
ment of carnival. Among other things, I earned the reputa-
tion of being a most impatient lover, for now I would consent
to no delays. I hurried all the preparations on with feverish
precipitation. I had very little difficulty in persuading Nina
that the sooner our wedding took place the better; she \v i>
to the full as eager as myself, as ready to rush on her ow?
destruction as Guido had been. Her chief passion w.i
avarice, and the repeated rumors of my supposed fabulous
wealth had aroused her greed from the very moment she had
first met me in my assumed character of the Count Oliva.
As soon as her engagement to me became known in Naples,
she was an object of envy to all those of her own sex who,
during the previous autumn, had laid out their store of fasci-
nations to entrap me in vain — and this made her perfectly
happy. Perhaps the supremest satisfaction a woman of this
sort can attain to is the fact of making her less fortunate
sisters discontented and miserable ! I loaded her, of course,

VENDETTA! 265

with the costliest gifts, and she, being the sole mistress of
the fortune left her by her " late husband," as well as of the
unfortunate Guide's money, set no limits to her extravagance.
She ordered the most expensive and elaborate costumes ;
she was engaged morning after morning with dressmakers,
tailors, and milliners, and she was surrounded by a certain
favored " set " of female friends, for whose benefit she dis-
played the incoming treasures of her wardrobe till they were
ready to cry for spite and vexation, though they had to smile
and hold in their wrath and outraged vanity beneath the so-
cial mask of complacent composure. And Nina loved noth-
ing better than to torture the poor women who were stinted
of pocket-money with the sight of shimmering satins, soft
radiating plushes, rich velvets, embroidery studded with real
gems, pieces of costly old lace, priceless scents, and articles
of bijouterie ; she loved also to dazzle the eyes and bewilder
the brains of young girls, whose finest toilet was a garb of
simplest white stuff unadorned save by a cluster of natural
blossoms, and to send them away sick at heart, pining
for they knew not what, dissatisfied with everything, and
grumbling at fate for not permitting them to deck themselves
in such marvelous " arrangements " of costume as those pos-
sessed by the happy, the fortunate future Countess Oliva.

Poor maidens ! had they but known all they would not have
envied her ! Women are too fond of measuring happiness by
the amount of fine clothes they obtain, and I truly believe
dress is the one thing that never fails to console them. How
often a fit of hysterics can be cut short by the opportune
arrival of a new, gown !

My wife, in consideration of her approaching second nup-
tials, had thrown off her widow's crape, and now appeared
clad in those soft subdued half-tints of color that suited her
fragile, fairy-like beauty to perfection. All her old witcherias
and her graceful tricks of manner and speech were put forth
again for my benefit. I knew them all so well ! I understood
the value of her light caresses and languishing looks so thor-
oughly ! She was very anxious to attain the full dignity of
her position as the wife of so rich a nobleman as I was re-
puted to be, therefore she raised no objection when I fixed
the day of our marriage for Giovedi Grasso. Then the fool-
ing and mumming, the dancing, shrieking, and screaming
would be at its height ; it pleased my whim to have this other
piece of excellent masquerading take place at the same time.

The wedding was to be as private as possible, owing to my

266 VENDETTA !

wife's " recent sad bereavements," as she herself said with a
pretty sigh and tearful, pleading glance. It would take place
in the chapel of San Gennaro, adjoining the cathedral. We
were married there before ! During the time that intervened,
Nina's manner was somewhat singular. To me she was often
timid, and sometimes half conciliatory. Now and then I
caught her large dark eyes fixed on me with a startled, anx-
ious look, but this expression soon passed away. She was
subject, too, to wild fits of merriment, and anon to moods of
absorbed and gloomy silence. I could plainly see that she
was strung up to an extreme pitch of nervous excitement and
irritability, but I asked her no questions. If — I thought — if
she tortured herself with memories, all the better — if she saw,
or fancied she saw, the resemblance between me and her
" dear dead Fabio," it suited me that she should be so racked
and bewildered,

I came and went to and fro from the villa as I pleased. I
wore my dark glasses as usual, and not even Giacomo could
follow me with his peering, inquisitive gaze ; for since the
night he had been hurled so fiercely to the ground by Guide's
reckless and impatient hand, the poor old man had been par-
alyzed, and had spoken no word. He lay in an upper chamber,
tended by Assunta, and my wife had already written to his
relatives in Lombardy, asking them to send for him home.

" Of what use to keep him ? " she had asked me.

True ! Of what use to give even roof-shelter to a poor old
human creature, maimed, broken, and useless for evermore ?
After long years of faithful service, turn him out, cast him
forth ! If he die of neglect, starvation, and, ill-usage, what
matter ? — he is a worn-out tool, his day is done — let him per-
ish. I would not plead for him — why should I ? I had made
my own plans for his comfort — plans shortly to be carried
out ; and in the mean time Assunta nursed him tenderly as he
lay speechless, with no more strength than a year-old baby,
and only a bewildered pain in his upturned, lack-luster eyes.
One incident occurred during these last days of my vengeance
that struck a sharp pain to my heart, together with a sense
of the bitterest anger. I had gone up to the villa somewhat
early in the morning, and on crossing the lawn I saw a dark
form stretched motionless on one of the paths that led directly
up to the house. I went to examine it, and started back in
horror — it was my dog Wyvis shot dead. His silky black
head and forepaws were dabbled in blood — his honest brown
eyes were glazed with the film of his dying agonies. Sickened

VENDETTA I 267

and infuriated at the sight, I called to a gardener who was
trimming the shrubbery.

"Who has done this ? " I demanded.

The man looked pityingly at the poor bleeding remains, and
said, in a low voice :

"It was madama's order, signer. The dog bit her yester-
day ; we shot him at daybreak."

I stooped to caress the faithful animal's body, and as I
stroked the silky coat my eyes were dim with tears.

"How did it happen?" I asked Jn smothered accents,
" Was your lady hurt ? "

The gardener shrugged his shoulders and sighed.

" Ma ! — no ! But he tore the lace on her dress with his
teeth and grazed her hand. It was little, but enough. He
will bite no more — povera bestia!"

I gave the fellow five francs.

" I liked the dog," I said briefly, " he was a faithful creat-
ure. Bury him decently under that tree," and I pointed to
the giant cypress on the lawn, " and take this money for your
trouble."

He looked surprised but grateful, and promised to do my
bidding. Once more sorrowfully caressing the fallen head of
perhaps the truest friend I ever possessed, I strode hastily
into the house, and met Nina coming out of her morning-
room, clad in one of her graceful trailing garments, in which
soft lavender hues were blended like the shaded colors of
late and early violets.

" So Wyvis has been shot ? " I said, abruptly.

She gave a slight shudder. *

" Oh, yes ; is it not sad ? But I was compelled to have it
done. Yesterday I went past his kennel within reach of his
chain, and he sprung furiously at me for no reason at all.
See ! " And holding up her small hand she showed me three
trifling marks in the delicate flesh. " I felt that you would
be so unhappy if you thought I kept a dog that was at all dan-

ferous, so I determined to get rid of him. It is always pain-
il to have a favorite animal killed ; but really Wyvis be-
longed to my*poor husband, and I think he has never been
quite safe since his master's death, and now Giacomo is

ill "

" I see ! " I said, curtly, cutting her explanations short.
Within myself I thoughc how much more sweet and valu-
able was the dog's life than hers. Brave Wyvis — good Wyvis !
JJe had done his best — he had tried to tear her dainty flesh ;

268 VENDETTA

his honest instincts had led him to attempt rough vengeance
on the woman he had felt was his master's foe. And he had
met his fate, and died in the performance of duty. But I
said no more on the subject. The dog's death was not
alluded to again by either Nina or myself. He lay in his
mossy grave under the cypress boughs — his memory untainted
by any lie, and his fidelity enshrined in my heart as a thing
good and gracious, far exceeding the self-interested friend-
ship of so-called Christian humanity.

The days passed slowly on. To the revelers who chased
the flying steps of carnival with shouting and laughter, no
doubt the hours were brief, being so orimful of merriment ;
but to me, who heard nothing sav. the measured ticking of
my own timepiece of revenge, and who saw naught save its
hands, that every second drew nearer to the last and fatal
figure on the dial, the very moments seemed long and laden
with weariness. I reamed the streets of the city aimlessly,
feeling more like a deserted stranger than a well-known envied
nobleman, whose wealth made him the cynosure of all eyes.
The riotous glee, the music, the color that whirled and ree.ed
through the great street of Toledo at this season bewildered
and pained me. Though I knew and was accustomed to the
wild vagaries of carnival, yet this year they seemed to be out
of place, distracting, senseless, and all unfamiliar.

Sometimes I escaped from the city tumult and wandered
out to the cemetery. There I would stand, dreamily looking
at the freshly turned sods above Guido Ferrari's grave. No
stone marked the spot as yet, but it was close to the Romani
vault — not more than a couple of yards away from the iron
grating that barred the entrance to that dim and fatal charnel-
house. I had a drear fascination for the place, and more
than once I went to the opening of that secret passage made
by the brigands to ascertain if all was safe and undisturbed.
Everything was as I had left it, save that the tangle of brush-
wood had become thicker, and weeds and brambles had
sprung up, making it less visible than before, and probably
rendering it more impassable. By a fortunate accident I had
secured the key of the vault. I knew that for'family burial-
places of this kind there are always two keys — one left in
charge of the keeper of the cemetery, the other possessed by
the person or persons to whom the mausoleum belongs, and
this other I managed to obtain.

On one occasion, being left for some time alone in my own
library at the villa, I remembered that in an upper drawer of

VENDETTA ! 269

an old oaken escritoire that stood there, had always been a
few keys belonging to the doors of cellars and rooms in the
house. I looked, and found them lying there as usual ; they
all had labels attached to them, signifying their use, and I
turned them over impatiently, not finding what I sought. I
was about to give up the search, when I perceived a large
rusty iron key that had slipped to the back of the drawer ;
I pulled it out, and to my satisfaction it was labeled " Mau-
soleum." I immediately took possession of it, glad to have
obtained so useful and necessary an implement; I knew that
I should soon need it. The cemetery was quite deserted at
this festive season — no one visited it to lay wreaths of flowers
or sacred mementoes on the last resting-places of their friends.
In the joys of the carnival who thinks of the dead? In my
frequent walks there I was always alone ; I might have opened
my own vault and gone down into it without being observed,
but I did not ; I contented myself with occasionally trying
the key in the lock, and assuring myself that it worked with-
out difficulty.

Returning from one of these excursions late on a mild after-
noon toward the end of the week preceding my marriage, I
bent my steps toward the Molo, where I saw a picturesque
group of sailors and girls dancing one of those fantastic,
graceful dances of the country, in which impassioned move-
ment and expressive gesticulation are everything. Their
steps were guided and accompanied by the sonorous twanging
of a full-toned guitar and the tinkling beat of a tambourine.
Their handsome, animated faces, their flashing eyes and
laughing lips, their gay, many-colored costumes, the glitter of
beads on the brown necks of the maidens, the red caps
jauntily perched on the thick black curls of the fishermen — all
made up a picture full of light and life thrown up into strong
relief against the pale gray and amber tints of the February
sky and sea ; while shadowing overhead frowned the stern
dark walls of the Castel Nuovo.

It was such a scene as the English painter Luke Fildes
might love to depict on his canvas — the one man of to-day
who, though born of the land of opaque mists and rain-bur-
dened clouds, has, notwithstanding these disadvantages,
managed to partly endow his brush with the exhaustless
wealth and glow of the radiant Italian color. I watched the
dance with a faint sense of pleasure — it was full of so much
harmony and delicacy of rhythm. The lad who thrummed
the guitar broke out now and then into song — a song in dia-

270 VENDETTA !

lect that fitted into the music of the dance as accurately as a
rosebud into its calyx. I could not distinguish all the words
he sung, but the refrain was always the same, and he gave it
in every possible inflection and variety of tone, from grave
to gay, from pleading to pathetic.

" Che bella cosa t de morire acciso,
Nnanze a la porta de la nnamorata ! " *

meaning literally — " How beautiful a thing to die, suddenly
slain at the door of one's beloved ! "

There was no sense in the thing, I thought half angrily —
it was a stupid sentiment altogether. Yet I could not help
smiling at the ragged, barefooted rascal who sung it: he
seemed to feel such a gratification in repeating it, and he
rolled his black eyes with lovelorn intensity, and breathed
forth sighs that sounded through his music with quite a
touching earnestness. Of course he was only following the
manner of all Neapolitans, namely, acting his song ; they all
do it, and cannot help themselves. But this boy had a
peculiarly roguish way of pausing and crying forth a plaintive
" Ah ! " before he added " Che bella cosa" etc., which gave
point and piquancy to his absurd ditty. He was evidently
brimful of mischief — his expression betokened it ; no doubt
he was one of the most thorough little scamps that ever
played at " morra" but there was a charm about his hand-
some dirty face and unkempt hair, and I watched him
amusedly, glad to be distracted for a few minutes from the
tired inner workings of my own unhappy thoughts. In time
to come, so I mused, this very boy might learn to set his
song about the " beloved " to a sterner key, and might find
k meet, not to be slain himself, but to slay her I . Such a
thing — in Naples — was more than probable. By and by the
dance ceased, and I recognized in one of the breathless,
laughing sailors my old acquaintance Andrea Luziani, with
whom I had sailed to Palermo. The sight of him relieved
me from a difficulty which had puzzled me for some days,
and as soon as the little groups of men and women had
partially dispersed, I walked up to him and touched him on
the shoulder. He started, looked round surprised, and did
not appear to recognize me. I remembered that when he
had seen me I had not grown a beard, neither had I worn
dark spectacles. I recalled my name to hi«n ; his face
cleared and he smiled.

* Neapolitan dialect.

VENDETTA! 271

"Ah ! buon giorno, eccellenza ! " he cried. " A thousand
pardons that I did not at first know you ! Often have 1
thought of you ! often have I heard your name — ah ! what a
name ! Rich, great, generous ! — ah ! what a glad life ! And
on the point of marrying — ah, Dio ! love makes all the
troubles go — so ! " and taking his cigar from his mouth, he
puffed a ring of pale smoke into the air and laughed gayly.
Then suddenly lifting his cap from his clustering black hair,
he added, " All joy be with you, eccellenza ! "

I smiled and thanked him. I noticed he looked at me
curiously.

" You think I have changed in appearance, my friend ? "
I said.

The Sicilian looked embarrassed.

" Ebbene / we must all change," he answered, lightly, evad-
ing my glance. " The days pass on — each day takes a little
bit of youth away with it. One grows old without knowing
it!" '

I laughed.

" I see," I observed. " You think I have aged somewhat
since you saw me ? "

" A little, eccellenza," he frankly confessed.

" I have suffered severe illness," I said, quietly, " and my
eyes are still weak, as you perceive," and I touched my
glasses. " But I shall get stronger in time. Can you come
with me for a few moments ? I want your help in a matter
of importance."

He nodded a ready assent and followed me.

CHAPTER XXXI.

WE left the Molo, and paused at a retired street corner
leadirg from the Chiaja.

" You remember Carmelo Neri ? " I asked.

Andrea shrugged his shoulders with an air of infinite com-
miseration.

" Ah ! povero diavolo f Well do I remember him ! A bold
fellow and brave, with a , heart in him, too, if one did but
know where to find it. And now he drags the chain ! Well,
well, no doubt it is what he deserves ; but I say, and always
will maintain, there are many worse men than Carmelo."

I briefly related how I had seen the captured brigand iu

272 V END ETTA J

the square at Palermo and had spoken with him. " I men-
tioned you," I added, " and he bade me tell you Teresa had
killed herself."

"Ah! that I well know," said the little captain, who had
listened to me intently, and over whose mobile face flitted a
shadow of tender pity, as he sighed. " Poverinetta I So
fragile and small ! To think she had the force to plunge the
knife in her breast ! As well imagine a little bird flying
down to pierce itself on an uplifted bayonet. Ay, ay !
women will do strange things — and it is certain she loved
Carmelo."

*' You would help him to escape again if you could, no
doubt ? " I inquired with a half smile.

The ready wit of the Sicilian instantly asserted itself.

" Not I, eccellenza," he replied, with an air of dignity and
most virtuous honesty. " No, no, not now. The law is the
law, and I, Andrea Luziani, am not one to break it. No,
Carmelo must take his punishment ; it is for life they say—
and hard as it seems, it is but just. When the little Teresa
was in the question, look you, what could I do ? but now —
let the saints that choose help Carmelo, for I will not."

I laughed as I met the audacious flash of his eyes ; I knew,
despite his protestations, that if Carmelo Neri ever did get
clear of the galleys, it would be an excellent thing for him if
Luziani's vessel chanced to be within reach.

" You have your brig the ' Laura ' still ? " I asked him.

" Yes, eccellenza, the Madonna be praised ! And she has
been newly rigged and painted, and she is as trig and trim a
craft as you can meet with in all the wide blue waters of the
Mediterranean."

" Now you see," I said, impressively, " I have a friend, a
relative, who is in trouble : he wishes to get away from Naples
quietly and in secret. Will you help him ? You shall be
paid whatever you think proper to demand."

The Sicilian looked puzzled. He puffed meditatively at
his cigar and remained silent.

" He is not pursued by the law," I continued, noting his
hesitation. " He is simply involved in a cruel difficulty
brought upon him by his own family — he seeks to escape
from unjust persecution."

Andrea's brow cleared.

" Oh, if that is the case, eccellenza, I am at your service,
But where does your friend desire to go ? "

I paused for a moment and considered.

VENDETTA! 273

" To Civita Vecchia," I said at last ; " from that port he
can obtain a ship to take him to his further destination."

The captain's expressive face fell — he looked very dubious.

" To Civita Vecchia is a long way, a very long way," he
said, regretfully ; " and it is the bad season, and there are
cross currents and contrary winds. With all the wish in the
world to please you, eccellenza, I dare not run the * Laura *
so far ; but there is another means "

And interrupting himself he considered awhile in silence.
I waited patiently for him to speak.

" Whether it would suit your friend I know not," he said
at last, laying his hand confidentially on my arm, " but there
is a stout brig leaving here for Civita Vecchia on Friday
morning next "

" The day after Giovedi Grasso ? " I queried, with a smile
he did not understand. He nodded.

" Exactly so. She carries a cargo of Lacrima Cristi, and
she is a swift sailer. I know her captain — he is a good soul ;
but," and Andrea laughed lightly, " he is like the rest of us —
he loves money. You do not count the francs — no, they are
nothing to you — but we look to the soldi. Now, if it please
you I will make him a certain offer of passage money, as
large as you shall choose, also I will tell him when to expect
his one passenger, and I can almost promise you that he
will not say no ! "

This proposal fitted in so excellently with my plans that I
accepted it, and at once named an exceptionally munificent
sum for the passage required. Andrea's eyes glistened as he
heard.

" It is a little fortune ! " he cried, enthusiastically. " Would
that I could earn as much in twenty voyages ! But one
should not be churlish — such luck cannot fall in all men's
way."

I smiled.

" And do you think, amico, I will suffer you to go unre-
warded ? " I said. And placing two twenty-franc pieces in
his brown palm I added, " As you rightly said, francs are
nothing to me. Arrange this little matter without difficulty,
and you shall not be forgotten. You can call at my hotel
to-morrow or the next day, when you have settled everything
— here is the address," and I penciled it on my card and gave
it to him ; "but remember, this is a secret matter, and I rely
upon you to explain it as such to your friend who commands
the brig going to Civita Vecchia. He must ask no questions
18

274 VENDETTA t

of his passenger — the more silence the more discretion — and
when once he has landed him at his destination he will do
well to straightway forget all about him. You understand ? "

Andrea nodded briskly.

"Si, si, signor. He has a bad memory as it is — it shak
grow worse at your command ! Believe it ! "

I laughed, shook hands, and parted with the friendly little
fellow, he returning to the Molo, and I slowly walking home-
ward by way of the Villa Reale. An open carriage coming
swiftly toward me attracted my attention ; as it drew nearer
I recognized the prancing steeds and the familiar liveries. A
fair woman clad in olive velvets and Russian sables looked
out smiling, and waved her hand.

It was my wife — my betrothed bride, and beside her sat
the Duchess di Marina, the most irreproachable of matrons,
famous for her piety not only in Naples but throughout
Italy. So immaculate was she that it was difficult to imagine
her husband daring to caress that upright, well-dressed form,
or venturing to kiss those prim Tips, colder than the carven
beads of her jeweled rosary. Yet there was a story about her
too — an old story that came from Padua — of how a young
and handsome nobleman had been found dead at her palace
doors, stabbed to the heart. Perhaps — who knows — he also
might have thought —

" Che bella cosa 2 de morire acciso,
Nnanze a la porta de la nnamorata !'

Some said the duke had killed him ; but nothing could be
proved, nothing was certain. The duke was silent, so was
his duchess ; and Scandal herself sat meekly with closed lips
in the presence of this stately and august couple, whose
bearing toward each other in society was a lesson of complete
etiquette to the world. What went on behind the scenes no
one could tell. I raised my hat with the profoundest defer-
ence as the carriage containing the two ladies dashed by ;
I knew not which was the cleverest hypocrite of the two,
therefore I did equal honor to both. I was in a meditative
and retrospective mood, and when I reached the Toledo the
distracting noises, the cries of the flower-girls, and venders of
chestnuts and confetti, the nasal singing of the street-rhymers,
the yells of punchinello, and the answering laughter of the
populace, were all beyond my endurance. To gratify a sudden
whim that seized me, I made my way into the lowest and
dirtiest quarters of the city, and roamed through wretched

VENDETTA! 275

Courts and crowded alleys, trying to discover that one
miserable street which until now I had always avoided even
the thought of, where I had purchased the coral-fisher's
clothes on the day of my return from the grave. I went in
many wrong directions, but at last I found it, and saw at a
glance that the old rag-dealer's shop was still there, in its
former condition of heterogeneous filth and disorder. A
man sat at the door smoking, but not the crabbed and bent
figure I had before seen — this was a younger and stouter
individual, with a Jewish cast of countenance, and dark,
ferocious eyes. I approached him, and seeing by my dress
and manner that I was some person of consequence, he rose,
drew his pipe from his mouth, and raised his greasy cap with
a respectful yet suspicious air.

" Are you the owner of this place ? " I asked.

" Si, signor ! "

" What has become of the old man who used to live
here ? "

He laughed, shrugged his shoulders, and drew his pipe-
stem across his throat with a significant gesture.

" So, signor ! — with a sharp knife ! He had a good deal
of blood, too, for so withered a body. To kill himself in that
fashion was stupid : he spoiled an Indian shawl that was on
his bed, worth more than a thousand francs. One would
not have thought he had so much blood."

And the fellow put back his pipe in his mouth and smoked
complacently. I heard in sickened silence.

" He was mad, I suppose ? " I said at last.

The long pipe was again withdrawn.

" Mad ? Well, the people say so. I for one think he was
very reasonable — all except that matter of the shawl — he
should have taken that off his bed first. But he was wise
enough to know that he was of no use to anybody — he did
the best he could ! Did you know him, signor ? "

" I gave him money once," I replied, evasively ; then tak-
ing out a few francs I handed them to this evil-eyed, furtive-
looking son of Israel, who received the gift with effusive
gratitude.

" Thank you for your information," I said coldly. " Good-
day."

" Good-day to you, signor," he replied, resuming his seat
and watching me curiously as I turned away.

I passed out of the wretched street feeling faint and giddy.
The end of the miserable rag-dealer had bee& told to me

276 VENDETTA /[

briefly and brutally enough — yet somehow I was moved to a
sense of regret and pity. Abjectly poor, half crazy, and
utterly friendless, he had been a brother of mine in the same
bitterness and irrevocable sorrow. I wondered with a half
shudder — would my end be like his? When my vengeance
was completed should I grow shrunken, and old, and mad,
and one lurid day draw a sharp knife across my throat as a
finish to my life's history ? I walked more rapidly to shake
off the morbid fancies that thus insidiously crept in on my
brain ; and as before, the noise and glitter of the Toledo
had been unbearable, so now I found it a relief and a dis-
traction. Two maskers bedizened in violet and gold whizzed
past me like a flash, one of them yelling a stale jest concern-
ing la nnamorata — a jest I scarcely heard, and certainly had
no heart or wit to reply to. A fair woman I knew leaned
out of a gayly draped balcony and dropped a bunch of roses
at my feet ; out of courtesy I stooped to pick them up, and
then raising my hat I saluted the dark-eyed donor, but a few
paces on I gave them away to a ragged child. Of all flowers
that bloom, they were, and still are, the most insupportable
to me. What is it the English poet Swinburne says —

" I shall never befriends again with, roses /"

My wife wore them always : even on that night when I had
seen her clasped in Guide's arms, a red rose on her breast
had been crushed in that embrace — a rose whose withered
leaves I still possess. In the forest solitude where I now
dwell there are no roses — and I am glad ! The trees are too
high, the tangle of bramble and coarse brushwood too dense
— nothing grows here but a few herbs and field flowers —
weeds unfit for wearing by fine ladies, yet to my taste in-
finitely sweeter than all the tenderly tinted cups of fragrance,
whose colors and odors are spoiled to me forever. I am un-
just, say you ? the roses are innocent of evil ? True enough,
but their perfume awakens memory, and — I strive always to
forget !

I reached my hotel that evening to find that I was an hour
late for dinner, an unusual circumstance, which had caused
Vincenzo some disquietude, as was evident from the relieved
expression of his face when I entered. For some days the
honest fellow had watched me with anxiety ; my abstracted
moods, the long solitary walks I was in the habit of taking,
the evenings I passed ID my room writing, with the doors

VENDETTA ! 277

locked — all this behavior on my part exercised his patience,
I have no doubt, to the utmost limit, and I could see he had
much ado to observe his usual discretion and tact, and re-
frain from asking questions. On this particular occasion I
dined very hastily, for I had promised to join my wife and
two of her lady friends at the theater that night.

When I arrived there, she was already seated in her box,
looking radiantly beautiful. She was attired in some soft,
sheeny, clinging primrose stuff, and the brigand's jewels I had
given her through Guide's hands, flashed brilliantly on her
uncovered neck and arms. She greeted me with her usual
child-like enthusiasm as I entered, bearing the customary
offering — a costly bouquet, set in a holder of mother-of-pearl
studded with turquois, for her acceptance. I bowed to her
lady friends, both of whom I knew, and then stood beside her
watching the stage. The comedietta played there was the
airiest trifle — it turned on the old worn-out story — a young
wife, an aged, doting husband, and a lover whose principles
were, of course, of the " noblest " type. The husband was
fooled (naturally), and the chief amusement of the piece ap-
peared to consist in his being shut out of his own house in
dressing-gown and slippers during a pelting storm of rain,
while his spouse (who was particularly specified as "pure ")
enjoyed a luxurious supper with her highly moral and virtuous
admirer. My wife laughed delightedly at the poor jokes and
the stale epigrams, and specially applauded the actress who
successfully supported the chief role. This actress, by the
way, was a saucy, brazen-faced jade, who had a trick of flash-
ing her black eyes, tossing her head, and heaving her ample
bosom tumultuously whenever she hissed out the words
Vecchidccio maladetto * at her discomfited husband, which had
an immense effect on the audience — an audience which en-
tirely sympathized with her, though she was indubitably in
the wrong. I watched Nina in some derision as she nodded
her fair head and beat time to the music with her painted fan.
I bent over her.

" The play pleases you ? " I asked, in a low tone.

" Yes, indeed ! " she answered, with a laughing light in her
eyes. "The husband is so droll ! It is all very amusing."

" The husband is always droll ! ' I remarked, smiling coldly.
" It is not a temptation to marry when one knows that as a
husband one must always look ridiculous."

* Accursed, villainous old monster.

178 VENDETTA I

She glanced up at me.

'• Cesare ! You surely are not vexed ? Of course it is only
in plays that it happens so ! "

" Plays, cam mia, are often nothing but the reflex of real
life," I said " But let us hope there are exceptions, and
that all husbands are not fools."

She smiled expressively and sweetly, toyed with the flowers
I had given her, and turned her eyes again to the stage. I
said no more, and was a somewhat moody companion for the
rest of the evening. As we all left the theater one of the
ladies who had accompanied Nina said lightly :

"You seem dull and out of spirits, conte?"

I forced a smile.

" Not I, signora ! Surely you do not find me guilty of such
ungallantry? Were I dull in your company I should prove
myself the most ungrateful of my sex."

She sighed somewhat impatiently. She was very young
and very lovely, and, as far as I knew, innocent, and of a
more thoughtful and poetical temperament than most wo-
men.

" That is the mere language of compliment," she said,
looking straightly at me with her clear, candid eyes. " You
are a true courtier ! Yet often I think your courtesy is
reluctant."

I looked at her in some surprise.

" Reluctant ? Signora, pardon me if I do not under-
stand ! "

" I mean," she continued, still regarding me steadily,
though a faint blush warmed the clear pallor of her delicate
complexion, " that you do not really like us women ; you say
pretty things to us, and you try to be amiable in our com-
pany, but you are in truth averse to our ways — you are scep-
tical— you think we are all hypocrites."

I laughed a little coldly.

" Really, signora, your words place me in a very awkward
position. Were I to tell you my real sentiments —

She interrupted me with a touch of her fan on my arm,
and smiled gravely.

" You would say, ' Yes, you are right, signora. I never
see one of your sex without suspecting treachery.' Ah,
Signer Conte, we women are indeed full of faults, but noth-
ing can blind our instinct!" She paused, and her brilliant
eyes softened as she added gently, " I pray your marriage
may be a very happy one."

VENDETTA ! 279

I was silent. I was not even courteous enough to thank
her for the wish. I was half angered that this girl should
have been able to probe my thoughts so quickly and unerr-
ingly. Was I so bad an actor after all ? I glanced down
at her as she leaned lightly on my arm,

" Marriage is a mere comedietta" I said, abruptly and
harshly. " We have seen it acted to-night. In a few days I
shall play the part of the chief buffoon — in other words, the
husband."

And I laughed. My young companion looked startled,
almost frightened, and over her fair face there flitted an ex-
pression of something like aversion. I did not care — why
should I ? — and there was no time for more words between
us, for we had reached the outer vestibule of the theater.

My wife's carriage was drawn up at the entrance — my wife
herself was stepping into it. I assisted her, and also her two
friends, and then stood with uncovered head at the door
wishing diem all the "felicissima notte" Nina put her tiny
jeweled hand through the carriage window — I stooped and
kissed it lightly. Drawing it back quickly, she selected a
white gardenia from her bouquet and gave it to me with a
bewitching smile.

Then the glittering equipage dashed away with a whirl and
clatter of prancing hoofs and rapid wheels, and I stood
alone under the wide portico of the theater — alone, amid the
pressing throngs of the people who were still coming out of
the house — holding the strongly scented gardenia in my hand
as vaguely as a fevered man who finds a strange flower in
one of his sick dreams.

After a minute or two I suddenly recollected myself, and
throwing the blossom on the ground, I crushed it savagely
beneath my heel — the penetrating odor rose from its slain
petals as though a vessel of incense had been emptied at my
feet. There was a nauseating influence in it ; "where had I
inhaled that subtle perfume last ? I remembered — Gtiido
Ferrari had worn one of those flowers in his coat at my ban-
quet— it had been still in his buttonhole when I killed
him !

I strode onward and homeward ; the streets were full of
mirth and music, but I heeded none of it. I felt, rather than
saw, the quiet sky bending above me dotted with its count-
less millions of luminous worlds ; I was faintly conscious of
the soft plash of murmuring waves mingling with the dulcet
chords of deftly played mandolins echoing from somewhere

28o VENDETTA!

down by the shore ; but my soul was, as it were, benumbed
— my mind, always on the alert, was for once utterly tired
out — my very limbs ached, and when I at last flung myself
on my bed, exhausted, my eyes closed instantly, and I slept
the heavy, motionless sleep of a man weary unto death.

CHAPTER XXXII.

" TOUT le monde vient a celui qui sait attendre." So
wrote the great Napoleon. The virtue of the aphorism con-
sists in the little words qui sait. All the world comes to him
who knows how to wait, /knew this, and I had waited, and
my world — a world of vengeance — came to me at last.

The slow-revolving wheel of Time brought me to the day
before my strange wedding — the eve of my remarriage with
my own wife ! All the preparations were made — nothing
was left undone that could add to the splendor of the oc-
casion. For though the nuptial ceremony was to be some-
what quiet and private in character, and the marriage break-
fast was to include only a few of our more intimate acquaint-
ances, the proceedings were by no means to terminate tamely.
The romance of these remarkable espousals was not to find
its conclusion in bathos. No ; the bloom and aroma of the
interesting event were to be enjoyed in the evening, when a
grand supper and ball, given by me, the happy and much-
to-be-envied bridegroom, was to take place in the hotel
which I had made my residence for so long. No expense
was spared for this, the last entertainment offered by me in
my brilliant career as a successful Count Cesare Oliva.
After it, the dark curtain would fall on the played-out drama,
never to rise again.

Everything that art, taste, and royal luxury could suggest
was included in the arrangements for this brilliant ball, to
which a hundred and fifty guests had been invited, not one
of whom had refused to attend.

And now — now, in the afternoon of this, the last of my self-
imposed probation — I sat alone with my fair wife in the
drawing-room of the Villa Romani, conversing lightly on
various subjects connected with the festivities of the coming
morrow. The l«ng windows were open — the warm spring
sunlight lay like a filmy veil of woven gold on the tender
green of the young grass, birds sung for joy and flitted from

VENDETTA! 281

branch to branch, now poising hoveringly above their nests,
now soaring with all the luxury of perfect liberty into the
high heaven of cloudless blue — the great creamy buds of the
magnolia looked ready to burst into wide and splendid
flower between their large, darkly shining leaves, the odor
of violets and primroses floated on every delicious breath of
air, and round the wide veranda the climbing white china
roses had already unfurled their little crumpled rosette-like
blossoms to the balmy wind. It was spring in Southern
Xtaly — spring in the land where, above all other lands, spring
is lovely — sudden and brilliant in its beauty as might be the
smile of a happy angel. Gran Dio ! — talk of angels ! Had I
not a veritable angel for my companion at that moment ?
What fair being, even in Mohammed's Paradise of Houris,
could outshine such charms as those which it was my proud
privilege to gaze upon without rebuke — dark eyes, rippling
golden hair, a dazzling and perfect face, a form to tempt the
virtue of a Galahad, and lips that an emperor might long to
touch — in vain ? Well, no !— not altogether in vain : if his
imperial majesty could offer a bribe large enough — let us say
a diamond the size of a pigeon's egg — he might possibly
purchase one, nay ! — perhaps two kisses from that seductive
red mouth, sweeter than the ripest strawberry. I glanced at
her furtively from time to time when she was not aware of
my gaze ; and glad was I of the sheltering protection of the
dark glasses I wore, for I knew and felt that there was
a terrible look in my eyes — the look of a half-famished tiger
ready to spring on some long-desired piece of prey. She
herself was exceptionally bright and cheerful ; with her
riante features and agile movements, she reminded me of some
tropical bird of gorgeous plumage swaying to and fro on a
branch of equally gorgeous blossom.

11 You are like a prince in a fairy tale, Cesare," she said,
with a little delighted laugh ; " everything you do is superbly
done ! How pleasant it is to be so rich — there is nothing
better in all the world."

" Except love ! " I returned, with a grim attempt to be sen-
timental.

Her large eyes softened like the pleading eyes of a tame
fawn.

" Ay, yes ! " and she smiled with expressive tenderness,
" except love. But when one has both love and wealth,
what a paradise life can be 1 "

" So great a paradise," I assented, " that it is hardty

282 VENDETTA!

worth while trying to get into heaven at all ! Will you make
earth a heaven for me, Nina ;///</, or will you only love me
as much — or as little — as you loved your late husband ? ''

She shrugged her shoulders and pouted like a spoilt child,

"Why are you so fond of talking about my late husband,
Cesare ?" she asked, peevishly ; " I am so tired of his name (
Besides, one does not always care to be reminded of dead
people — and he died so horribly too ! I have often told you
that I did not love him at all. I liked him a little, and 1 was
quite ill when that dreadful monk, who looked like a ghost
himself, came and told me he was dead. Fancy hearing
such a piece of news suddenly, while I was actually at
luncheon with Gui — Signore Ferrari ! We were both shocked,
of course, but I did not break my heart over it. Now I
really do love you "

I drew nearer to her on the couch where she sat, and put
one arm round her.

" You really do ? " I asked, in a half-incredulous tone ;
" you are quite sure ? "

She laughed and nestled her head on my shoulder.

" I am quite sure ! How many times have you asked me
that absurd question ? What can I say, what can I do — to
make you believe me ? "

" Nothing," I answered, and answered truly, for certainly
nothing she could say or do would make me believe her fora
moment. " But how do you love me — for myself or for my
wealth ? "

She raised her head with a proud, graceful gesture.

" For yourself, of course ! Do you think mere wealth could
ever win my affection ? No, Cesare ! I love you for your
own sake — your own merits have made you dear to me."

I smiled bitterly. She did not see the smile. I slowly
caressed her silky hair.

" For that sweet answer, carissima mia, you shall hav .:>
your reward. You called me a fairy prince just now — perhaps
I merit that title more than you know. You remember the
jewels I sent you before we ever met ? "

" Remember them ! " she exclaimed. " They are my
choicest ornaments. Such &parure is fit for an empress."

"And an empress of beauty wears them ! " I said, lightly.
" But they are mere trifles compared to other gems which I
possess, and which I intend to offer for your acceptance."

Hei eyes glistened with avarice and expectancy.

" Qh, let me see them 1 " she gried. " Jf they are lovelier

VENDETTA! 283

than those I already have, they must be indeed magnificent !
And are they all for me ? "

" All for you ! " I replied, drawing her closer, and playing
with the small white hand on which the engagement-ring i
had placed there sparkled so bravely. "All for my bride.
A little hoard of bright treasures ; red rubies, ay — as red as
blood — diamonds as brilliant as the glittering of crossed dag-
gers— sapphires as blue as the lightning — pearls as pure as the
little folded hands of a dead child — opals as dazzlingly
changeful as woman's love ! Why do you start ? " for she had
moved restlessly in my embrace. " Do I use bad similes ?
Ah, cara mia, I am no poet ! I can but speak of things as
they seem to my poor judgment. Yes, these precious things
are for you, bellissima; you have nothing to do but to take
them, and may they bring you much joy ! "

A momentary pallor had stolen over her face while I was
speaking — speaking in my customary hard, harsh voice, which
I strove to render even harder and harsher than usual — but
she soon recovered from whatever passing emotion she may
have felt, and gave herself up to the joys of vanity and greed,
the paramount passions of her nature.

" I shall have the finest jewels in all Naples ! " she laughed,
delightedly. " How the women will envy me ! But where
are these treasures ? May I see them now — immediately ? "

" No, not quite immediately," I replied, with a gentle de-
rision that escaped her observation. " To-morrow night —
our marriage night — you shall have them. And I must also
fulfill a promise I made to you. You wish to see me for
once without these," and I touched my dark glasses — " is it
not so ? "

She raised her eyes, conveying into their lustrous depths
an expression of melting tenderness.

" Yes," she murmured ; " I want to see you as you are f"

" I fear you will be disappointed," I said, with some irony,
" for my eyes are not pleasant to look at."

" Never mind," she returned, gayly. " I shall be satisfied
if I see them just once, and we need not have much light in
the room, as the light gives you pain. I would not be the
cause of suffering to you — no, not for all the world ! "

" You are very amiable," I answered, " more so than I de-
serve. I hope I may prove worthy of your tenderness ! But
to return to the subject of the jewels. I wish you to see them
for yourself ancl choose the best among them. Will you come

284 VENDETTA]

with me tomorrow night ? and I will show you where they
are."

She laughed sweetly.

" Are you a miser, Cesare ? — and have you some secret
hiding-place full of treasure like Aladdin ? "'

I smiled.

" Perhaps I have," I said. " There are exceptional cases in
which one fears to trust even to a bank. Gems such as those
I have to offer you are almost priceless, and it would be un-
wise, almost cruel to place such tempting toys within the reach
of even an honest man. At any rate, if I have been some-
thing of a miser, it is for your sake ; for your sake I have per-
sonally guarded the treasure that is to be your bridal gift.
You cannot blame me for this ? "

In answer she threw her fair arms round my neck and
kissed me. Strive against it as I would, I always shuddered
at the touch of her lips — a mingled sensation of loathing and
longing possessed me that sickened while it stung my soul.

"Amormio!" she murmured. "As if /could blame
you ! You have no faults in my estimation of you. You
are good, brave and generous — the best of men ; there is

only one thing I wish sometimes " Here she paused,

and her brow knitted itself frowningly, while a puzzled,
pained expression came into her eyes.

" And that one thing is ? " I inquired.

" That you did not remind me so often of Fabio," she
said, abruptly and half angrily. " Not when you speak of
him, I do not mean that. What I mean is, that you have
ways like his. Of course I know there is no actual resem-
blance, and yet " She paused again, and again looked

troubled.

" Really, carina, mia" I remarked, lightly and jestingly,
" you embarrass me profoundly ! This fancy of yours is a
most awkward one for me. At the convent where I visited
you, you became quite ill at the contemplation of my hand,
which you declared was like the hand of your deceased hus-
band ; and now — this same foolish idea is returning, when I
hoped it had gone, with other morbid notions of an oversen-
sitive brain, forever. Perhaps you think I am your late hus-
band ? "

And I laughed aloud ! She trembled a little, but soon
laughed also.

" I know I am very absurd," she said, " perhaps I am a
little nervous and unstrung ; I have had too much excite*

VENDETTA! 28$

ment lately. Tell me more about the jewels. When will you
take me to see them ? "

" To-morrow night," I answered, " while the ball is going
on, you and I will slip away together — we shall return again
before any of our friends can miss us. You will come with
me ? "

" Of course I will," she replied, readily, " only we must
not be long absent, because my maid will have to pack my
wedding-dress, and then there will be the jewels also to put
in my strong box. Let me see ! We stay the night at the
hotel, and leave for Rome and Paris the first thing in the
morning, do we not ? "

" That is the arrangement, certainly," I said, with a cold
smile.

" The little place where you have hidden your jewels, you
droll Cesare, is quite near tnen ? " she asked.

" Quite near," I assented, watching her closely.

She laughed and clapped her hands.

" Oh, I must have them," she exclaimed. " It would be
ridiculous to go to Paris without them. But why will you
not get them yourself, Cesare, and bring them here to me ? "

"There are so many," I returned, quietly, "and I do not
know which you would prefer. Some are more valuable
than others. And it will give me a special satisfaction — one
that I have long waited for — to see you making your own
choice."

She smiled half shyly, half cunningly.

" Perhaps I will make no choice," she whispered, "perhaps
I will take them all, Cesare. What will you say then ? "

" That you are perfectly welcome to them," I replied.

She looked slightly surprised.

" You are really too good to me, caro mio" she said ; " you
spoil me."

" Can you be spoiled ?" I asked, half jestingly. "Good
women are like fine brilliants — the more richly they are set
the more they shine."

She stroked my hand caressingly.

" No one ever made such pretty speeches to me as yov
do 1 " she murmured.

" Not even Guido Ferrari ? " I suggested, ironically.

She drew herself up with an inimitably well-acted gesture
of lofty disdain.

" Guido Ferrari ! " she exclaimed. " He dared not address
me save with the greatest respect! I was as a queen to him 1

VENDETTA f

It was only lately that he began to presume on the trust left
him by my husband, and then he became too familiar — a
mistake on his part, for which you punished him — as he
deserved ! "

I rose from my seat beside her. I could not answer for
my own composure while sitting so close to the actual
murderess of /^friend and her lover. Had she fc -gotten
her own " familiar " treatment of the dead man — the thou-
sand nameless wiles and witcheries and tricks of her trade,
by which she had beguiled his soul and ruined his honor?

" I am glad you are satisfied with my action in that affair,"
I said, coldly and steadily. " I myself regret the death of
the unfortunate young man, and shall continue to do so.
My nature, unhappily, is an oversensitive one, and is apt to
be affected by trifles. But now, mia bella, farewell until to-
morrow— happy to-morrow ! — when I shall call you mine
indeed ! "

A warm flush tinted her cheeks ; she came to me where
I stood, and leaned against me.

" Shall I not see you again till we meet in the church ? "
she inquired, with a becoming bashfulness.

" No. I will leave you this last day of your brief widow-
hood alone. It is not well that I should obtrude myself
upon your thoughts or prayers. Stay ! " and I caught her
hand which toyed with the flower in my buttonhole. " I see
you still wear your former wedding-ring. May I take it
off?"

"Certainly." And she smiled while I deftly drew off the
plain gold circlet I had placed there nearly four years
since.

" Will you let me keep it ? "

" If you like, /would rather not see it again."

" You shall not," I answered, as I slipped it into my
pocket. " It will be replaced by a new one to-morrow — one
that I hope may be the symbol of more joy to you than this
has been."

And as her eyes turned to my face in all their melting,
perfidious languor, I conquered my hatred of her by a strong
effort, and stooped and kissed her. Had I yielded to my
real impulses, I would have crushed her cruelly in my arms,
and bruised her delicate flesh with the brutal ferocity of
caresses born of bitterest loathing, not love. But no sign of
my aversion escaped me — all she saw was her elderly look-
ing admirer, with his calmly courteous demeanor, chill smile,

VENDETTA! 287

and almost parental tenderness ; and she judged him merely
as an influential gentleman of good position and unlimited
income, who was about to make her one of the most envied
women in all Italy.

The fugitive resemblance she traced in me to her " dead "
husband was certainly attributed by her to a purely acci-
dental likeness common to many persons in this world, where
every man, they say, has his double, and for that matter
every woman also. Who does not remember the touching
surprise of Heinrich Heine when, on visiting the picture-
gallery of the Palazzo Durazzo in Genoa, he was brought
face to face with the portrait, as he thought, of a dead

woman he had loved " Maria la morte." It mattered not

to him that the picture was very old, that it had been painted
by Giorgio Barbarelli centuries before his " Maria " could have
lived ; he simply declares : " II est vraiment d une ressemblance
admirable, ressemblant jusqifau silence de la mort /"

Such likenesses are common enough, and my wife, though
my resemblance to myself (!) troubled her a little, was very
far from imagining the real truth of the matter, as indeed
how should she ? What woman, believing and knowing, as
far as anything can be known, her husband to be dead and
fast buried, is likely to accept even the idea of his possible
escape from the tomb ! Not one ! — else the disconsolate
widows would indeed have reason to be more inconsolable
than they appear !

When I left her that morning I found Andrea Luziani
waiting for me at my hotel. He was seated in the outer en*
trance hall; I bade him follow me into my private salon.
He did so. Abashed at the magnificence of the apartment,
he paused at the doorway, and stood, red cap in hand, hesi-
tating, though with an amiable smile on his sunburned merry
countenance.

" Come in, amico," I said, with an inviting gesture, " and
sit down. All this tawdry show of velvet and gilding must
seem common to your eyes, that have rested so long on the
sparkling pomp of the foaming waves, the glorious blue cur-
tain of the sky, and the sheeny white of the sails of the
* Laura ' gleaming in the gold of the sun. Would I could
live such a life as yours, Andrea ! — there is nothing better
under the width of heaven."

The poetical temperament of the Sicilian was caught and
fired by my words. He at once forgot the splendid appur-
tenances of wealth and the costly luxuries that surrounded

288 VENDETTA!

him ; he advanced without embarrassment, and seated him>
self on a velvet and gold chair with as much ease as though
it were a coil of rough rope on board the " Laura."

" You say truly, eccellenza," he said, with a gleam of his
white teeth through his jet-black mustache, while his warm
southern eyes flashed fire, " there is nothing sweeter than the
life of the marinaro. And truly there are many who say to
me, ' Ah, ah ! Andrea ! buon amico, the time comes when
you will wed, and the home where the wife and children sit
will seem a better thing to you than the caprice of the wind
and waves.' But I — see you ! — I know otherwise. The
woman I wed must love the sea ; she must have the fear-
less eyes that can look God's storms in the face — her
tender words must ring out all the more clearly for the sound
of the bubbling waves leaping against the ' Laura ' when the
wind is high ! And as for our children," he paused and
laughed, "per la Santissima Madonna f if the salt and iron
of the ocean be not in their blood, they will be no children
of mine ! "

I smiled at his enthusiasm, and pouring out some choice
Montepulciano, bade him taste it. He did so with a keen
appreciation of its flavor, such as many a so-called connois-
seur of wines does not possess.

" To your health, eccellenza ! " he said ; " and may you
long enjoy your life ! "

I thanked him ; but in my heart I was far from echoing
the kindly wish.

" And are you going to fulfill the prophecy of your friends,
Andrea ? " I asked. " Are you about to marry ? "

He set down his glass only partly emptied, and smiled with
an air of mystery.

" Ebbene I chi sa ! " he replied, with a gay little shrug of
his shoulders, yet with a sudden tenderness in his keen eyes
that did not escape me. "There is a maiden — my mother
loves her well — she is little and fair as Carmelo Neri's Teresa
— so high," and he hiid his brown hand lightly on his breast,
"her head touches just here," and he laughed. " She looks
as frail as a lily, but she is hardy as a sea-gull, and no one
loves the wild waves more than she. Perhaps, in the month
of the Madonna, when the white lilies bloom — perhaps ! — one
can never tell — the old song may be sung for us —

" Chi sa fervente amar
Solo tfelice I "

And humming the tune of the well-known love-ditty under

VENDETTA! aSg

his breath, he raised his glass of wine to his lips and drained
it off with a relish, while his honest face beamed with gayetj
and pleasure. Always the same story, I thought, moodily,
Love, the tempter — Love, the destroyer — Love, the curse !
Was there no escape possible from this bewildering snare
that thus caught and slew the souls of men ?

CHAPTER XXXIII.

HE soon roused himself from his pleasant reverie, and
drawing his chair closer to mine, assumed an air of mystery.

"And for your friend who is in trouble," he said, in a con-
fidential tone, then paused and looked at me as though wait-
ing permission to proceed.

I nodded.

" Go on, amico. What have you arranged ? "

" Everything ! " he announced, with an air of triumph.
" All is smooth sailing. At six o'clock on Friday morning
the ' Rondinella,' that is the brig I told you of, eccellenza, will
weigh anchor for Civita Vecchia. Her captain, old Antonio
Bardi, will wait ten minutes or even a quarter of an hour if
necessary for the — the "

" Passenger," I supplemented. " Very amiable of him,
but he will not need to delay his departure for a single instant
beyond the appointed hour. Is he satisfied with the passage
money ? "

" Satisfied ! " and Andrea swore a good-natured oath and
laughed aloud. " By San Pietro ! if he were not, he would
deserve to drown like a dog on the voyage ! Though truly,
it is always difficult to please him, he being old and cross and
crusty. Yes ; he is one of those men who have seen so much
of life that they are tired of it. Believe it ! even the stormiest
sea is a tame fish-pond to old Bardi. But he is satisfied this
time, eccellenza, and his tongue and eyes are so tied up that
I should not wonder if your friend found him to be both dumb
and blind when he steps on board."

" That is well," I said, smiling. " I owe you many thanks,
Andrea. And yet there is one more favor I would ask of
you."

He saluted me with a light yet graceful gesture.

"Eccellenza, anything I can do — command me."

"It is a mere trifle," I returned. " it is merely to take »

19

VENDETTA]

small valise belonging to my friend, and to place it on board
the ' Rondinella ' under the care of the captain. Will you do
this ? "

" Most willingly. I will take it now if it so please you."

" That is what I desire. Wait here and I will bring it to
you."

And leaving him for a minute or two, I went into my bed-
room and took from a cupboard I always kept locked a com-
mon' rough leather bag, which I had secretly packed myself,
unknown to Vincenzo, with such things as I judged to be use-
ful and necessary. Chief among them was a bulky roll of
bank-notes. These amounted to nearly the whole of the re-
mainder of the money I had placed in the bank at Palermo.
I had withdrawn it by gradual degrees, leaving behind only a
couple of thousand francs, for which I had no special need.
I locked and strapped the valise ; there was no name on it and
it was scarcely any weight to carry. I took it to Andrea, who
swung it easily in his right hand and said, smilingly :

" Your friend is not wealthy, eccellenza, if this is all his
luggage ! "

" You are right," I answered, with a slight sigh ; " he is
truly very poor — beggared of everything that should be his
through the treachery of those whom he has benefited." I
paused ; Andrea was listening sympathetically. " That is
why I have paid his passage-money, and have done my best
to aid him."

" Ah ! you have the good heart, eccellenza," murmured the
Sicilian, thoughtfully. " Would there were more like you !
Often when fortune gives a kick to a man, nothing will suit
but that all who see him must kick him also. And thus the
povero diavolo dies of so many kicks, often ! This friend of
yours is young, senza dubbio ? "

" Yes, quite young, not yet thirty."

" It is as if you were a father to him ! " exclaimed Andrea,
enthusiastically. " I hope he may be truly grateful to you,
eccellenza."

" I hope so too," I said, unable to resist a smile. " And
.now, amico, take this," and I pressed a small sealed packet
into his hand. " It is for yourself. Do not open it till you
are at home with the mother you love so well, and the little
maiden you spoke of by your side. If its contents please you,
as I believe they will, think that / am also rendered happier
by your happiness."

His dark eyes sparkled with gratitude as I spoke, and set-

VEtfDETTA ! 291

ting the valise he held down on the ground, he stretched out
his hand half timidly, half frankly. I shook it warmly and
bade him farewell.

" Per Bacco \ " he said, with a sort of shamefaced eager-
ness, " the very devil must have caught my tongue in his fin-
gers ! There is something I ought to say to you, eccellenza,
but for my life I cannot find the right words. I must thank
you better when I see you next."

" Yes," I answered, dreamily and somewhat wearily, " when
you see me next, Andrea, you shall thank me if you will ; but
believe me, I need no thanks."

And thus we parted, never to meet again — he to the strong

glad life that is born of the wind and sea, and I to But

let me not anticipate. Step by step through the labyrinths of
memory let me go over the old ground watered with blood
and tears, not missing one sharp stone of detail on the drear
pathway leading to the bitter end.

That same evening I had an interview with Vincenzo. He
was melancholy and taciturn — a mood which was the result
of an announcement I had previously made to him — namely,
that his services would not be required during my wedding-
trip. He had hoped to accompany me and to occupy the
position of courier, valet, major-domo, and generally confi-
dential attendant — a hope which had partially soothed the
vexation he had evidently felt at the notion of my marrying
at all.

His plans were now frustrated, and if ever the good-natured
fellow could be ill-tempered, he was assuredly so on this
occasion. He stood before me with his usual respectful air,
but he avoided my glance, and kept his eyes studiously fixed
on the pattern of the carpet. I addressed him with an air
of gayety.

" Ebbene, Vincenzo ! Joy comes at last, you see, even to
me ! To-morrow I shall wed the Countess Romani — the
loveliest and perhaps the richest woman in Naples ! "

" I know it, eccellenza."

This with the same obstinately fixed countenance and
downward look.

" You are not very pleased, I think, at the prospect of my
happiness ? " I asked, banteringly.

He glanced up for an instant, then as quickly down again.

" If one could be sure that the illustrissimo eccellenza was
indeed happy, that would be a good thing," he answered,

392 VENDETTA!

" And are you not sure ? "

He paused, then replied firmly :

" No ; the eccellenza does not look happy. No, no,
datw^ro f He has the air of being sorrowful and ill, both
together."

I shrugged my shoulders indifferently.

" You mistake me, Vincenzo. I am well — very well — and
happy ! Gran Dio / who could be happier ? But what of
my health or happiness ? — they are nothing to me, and should
be less to you. Listen ; I have something I wish you to do
for me."

He gave me a sidelong and half-expectant glance. I went
on :

" To-morrow evening I want you to go to Avellino."

He was utterly astonished.

" To Avellino ! " he murmured under his breath, " to Avel-
lino ! "

"Yes, to Avellino," I repeated, somewhat impatiently.
" Is there anything so surprising in that ? You will take a let-
ter from me to the Signora Monti. Look you, Vincenzo, you
have been faithful and obedient so far, I expect implicit
fidelity and obedience still. You will not be needed here
"^D-morrow after the marriage ball has once begun ; you can
fake the nine o'clock train to Avellino, and — understand me
• — you will remain there till you receive further news from
me. You will not have to wait long, and in the mean time,"
here I smiled, " you can make love to Lilla."

Vincenzo did not return the smile.

" But — but," he stammered, sorely perplexed — " if I go to
Avellino I cannot wait upon the eccellenza. There is the
portmanteau to pack — and who will see to the luggage when
you leave on Friday morning for Rome ? And — and — I had

thought to see you to the station " He stopped, his

vexation was too great to allow him to proceed.

I laughed gently.

" How many more trifles can you think of, my friend, in
opposition to my wishes ? As for the portmanteau, you can
pack it this very day if you so please — then it will be in
readiness. The rest of your duties can for once be per-
formed by others. It is not only important, but imperative
that you should go to Avellino on my errand. I want you
to take this with you," and I tapped a small square iron box,
heavily made and strongly padlocked, which stood on the
table near me.

VENDETTA ! 293

He glanced at the box, but still hesitated, and the gloom
on his countenance deepened. I grew a little annoyed.

" What is the matter with you ? " I said at last with
some sternness. " You have something on your mind —
speak out ! "

The fear of my wrath startled him. He looked up with a
bewildered pain in his eyes, and spoke, his mellow Tuscan
voice vibrating with his own eloquent entreaty.

" Eccellenza ! " he exclaimed, eagerly, " you must forgive
ile — yes, forgive your poor servant who seems too bold, and
who yet is true to you — yes, indeed, so true ! — and who would
go with you to death if there were need ! I am not blind, I
can see your sufferings, for you do suffer, '/ustrifsimv, though
you hide it well. Often have I watched you when you have
not known it. I feel that you have what we call a wound in
the heart, bleeding, bleeding always. Such a thing means
death often, as much as a straight shot in battle. Let me
watch over you, eccellenza ; let me stay with you ! I have
learned to love you ! Ah, mio signor," and he drew nearer
and caught my hand timidly, " you do not know — how should
you ? — the look that is in your face sometimes, the look of
one who is stunned by a hard blow. I have said to myself
* That look will kill me if I see it often.' And your love for
this great lady, whom you will wed to-morrow, has not light-
ened your soul as love should lighten it. No ! you are even
sadder than before, and the look I speak of comes ever again
and again. Yes, I have watched you, and lately I have seen
you writing, writing far into the night, when you should have
slept. Ah, signor ! you are angry, and I know I should not
have spoken ; but tell me, how can I look at Lilla and be
happy when I feel that you are alone and sad ? "

I stopped the flood of his eloquence by a mute gesture and
•withdrew my hand from his clasp.

" I am not angry," I said, with quiet steadiness, and yet
vith something of coldness, though my whole nature, always
highly sensitive, was deeply stirred by the rapid, unstudied
expressions of affection that melted so warmly from his lips
in the liquid music of the mellow Tuscan tongue. " No, I
am not angry, but I am sorry to have been the object of so
much solicitude on your part. Your pity is misplaced, Vin-
cenzo, it is indeed ! Pity an emperor clad in purples and
seated on a throne of pure gold, but do not pity me / I tell
you that, to-morrow, yes, to-morrow, I shall obtain all that I
have ever sought — my greatest desire will be fulfilled. Believe

294 VENDETTA }

it. No man has ever been so thoroughly satiated with—
satisfaction — as I shall be ! "

Then seeing him look still sad and incredulous, I clapped
my hand on his shoulder and smiled.

" Come, come, amico, wear a merrier face for my bridal
day, or you will not deserve to wed Lilla. I thank you from
my heart," and I spoke more gravely, "for your well meant
care and kindness, but I assure you there is nothing wrong
with me. I am well — perfectly well — and happy. It is un-
derstood that you go to Avellino to-morrow evening ? "

Vincenzo sighed, but was passive.

" It must be as the eccellenza pleases," he murmured, re-
signedly.

" That is well," I answered, good-humoredly ; " and as you
know my pleasure, take care that nothing interferes with your
departure. And — one word more — you must cease to watch
me. Plainly speaking, I do not choose to be under your sur-
veillance. Nay — I am not offended, far from it, fidelity and
devotion are excellent virtues, but in the present case I
prefer obedience — strict, implicit obedience. Whatever I
may do, whether I sleep or wake, walk or sit still — attend to
your duties and pay no heed to my actions. So will you best
serve me — you understand ? "

" Si, signer! " and the poor fellow sighed again, and red-
dened with his own inward confusion. " You will pardon
me, eccellenza, for my freedom of speech ? I feel I have
done wrong

" I pardon you for what in this world is never pardoned —
excess of love," I answered, gently. " Knowing you love me,
I ask you to obey me in my present wishes, and thus we shall
always be friends."

His face brightened at these last words, and his thoughts
turned in a new direction. He glanced at the iron box I had
before pointed out to him.

" That is to go to Avellino, eccellenza ? " he asked, with
more alacrity than he had yet shown.

" Yes," I answered. " You will place it in the hands of
the good Signora Monti, for whom I have a great respect.
She will take care of it till— I return."

" Your commands shall be obeyed, signer," he said, rapid-
ly, as though eager to atone for his past hesitation. " After
all," and he smiled, " it will be pleasant to see Lilla ; she will
be interested, too, to hear the account of the eccellenza's
marriage."

VEND ETTA I 295

And somewhat consoled by the prospect of the entertain-
ment his unlooked-for visit would give to the charming little
maiden of his choice, he left me, and shortly afterward I
heard him humming a popular love-song softly under his
breath, while he busied himself in packing my portmanteau
for the honeymoon trip — a portmanteau destined never to
be used or opened by its owner.

That night, contrary to my usual habit, I lingered long
over my dinner ; at its close I poured out a full glass of
fine Lacrima Cristi, and secretly mixing with it a dose of a
tasteless but powerful opiate, I called my valet and bade him
drink it and wish me joy. He did so readily, draining the
contents to the last drop. It was a tempestuous night ; there
was a high wind, broken through by heavy sweeping gusts of
rain. Vincenzo cleared the dinner-table, yawning visibly as
he did so, then taking my out-door paletot on his arm, he
went to his bedroom, a small one adjoining mine, for the
purpose of brushing it, according to his customary method.
I opened a book, and pretending to be absorbed in its con-
tents, I waited patiently for about half an hour.

At the expiration of that time I stole softly to his door and
looked in. It was as I had expected ; overcome by the sud-
den and heavy action of the opiate, he had thrown himself
on his bed, and was slumbering profoundly, the unbrushed
overcoat by his side. Poor fellow ! I smiled as I watched
him ; the faithful dog was chained, and could not follow my
steps for that night at least.

I left him thus, and wrapping myself in a thick Almaviva
that muffled me almost to the eyes, I hurried out, fortunately
meeting no one on my way — out into the storm and darkness,
toward the Campo Santo, the abode of the all-wise though
speechless dead. I had work to do there — work that must
be done. I knew that if I had not taken the precaution of
drugging my too devoted servitor, he might, despite his pro-
testations, have been tempted to track me whither I went.
As it was, I felt myself safe, for four hours must pass, I knew,
before Vincenzo could awake from his lethargy. And I was
absent for some time.

Though I performed my task as quickly as might be, it took
me longer than I thought, and filled me with more loathing
and reluctance than I had deemed possible. It was a grew-
some, ghastly piece of work — a work of preparation — and when
1 had finished it entirely to my satisfaction, I felt as though
the bony fingers of death itself had been plunged into my very

296 VENDETTA!

marrow. I shivered with cold, my limbs would scarce bear
me upright, and my teeth chattered as though I were seized
by strong ague. But the fixity of my purpose strengthened
me till all was done — till the stage was set for the last scene
of the tragedy. Or comedy ? What you will ! I know that
in the world nowadays you make a husband's dishonor more
of a whispered jest than anything else — you and your heavy
machinery of the law. But to me — I am so strangely con-
stituted— dishonor is a bitterer evil than death. If all those
who are deceived and betrayed felt thus, then justice would
need to become more just. It is fortunate — for the lawyers
— that we are not all honorable men !

When I returned from my dreary walk in the driving storm
I found Vincenzo still fast asleep. I was glad of this, for
had he seen me in the plight I was, he would have had good
reason to be alarmed concerning both my physical and mental
condition. Perceiving myself in the glass, I recoiled as from
an image of horror. I saw a man with haunted, hungry eyes
gleaming out from under a mass of disordered white hair, his
pale, haggard face set and stern as the face of a merciless in-
quisitor of old Spain, his dark cloak dripping with glittering
raindrops, his hands and nails stained as though he had dug
them into the black earth, his boots heavy with mire and clay,
his whole aspect that of one who had been engaged in some
abhorrent deed, too repulsive to be named. I stared at my
own reflection thus and shuddered ; then I laughed softly
with a sort of fierce enjoyment. Quickly I threw off all my
soiled habiliments, and locked them out of sight, and arraying
myself in dressing-gown and slippers, I glanced at the time.
It was half-past one — already the morning of my bridal. I
had been absent three hours and a half. I went into my
salon and remained there writing. A few minutes after two
o'clock had struck the door opened noiselessly, and Vincenzo,
looking still very sleepy, appeared with an expression of in-
quiring anxiety. He smiled drowsily, and seemed relieved
to see me sitting quietly in my accustomed place at the writ-
ing-table. I surveyed him with an air of affected surprise.

" Ebbene, Vincenzo ! What has become of you all this
while ? "

" Eceellenza," he stammered, " it was the Lacrima ; I am
not used to wine ! I have been asleep."

I laughed, pretended to stifle a yawn on my own account,

and rose from my easy-chair.

" Veramente" \ 3aid, lightly, " so have I? very nearly

VENDETTA ! 297

And if I would appear as a gay bridegroom, it is time I went
to bed. Buona notte."

"Buona notte, signor"

And we severally retired to rest, he satisfied that I had
been in my own room all the evening, and I, thinking with a
savage joy at my heart of what I had prepared out there in
the darkness, with no witnesses of my work save the whirling
wind and rain.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

MY marriage morning dawned bright and clear, though
the high wind of the past night still prevailed and sent the
white clouds scudding rapidly, like ships running a race,
across the blue fairness of the sky. The air was strong,
fresh, and exhilarating, and the crowds that swarmed into
the Piazza del Popolo, and the Toledo, eager to begin the
riot and fun of Giovedi Grasso, were one and all in the
highest good humor. As the hours advanced, many little
knots of people hurried toward the cathedral, anxious, if
possible, to secure places in or near the Chapel of San
Gennaro, in order to see to advantage the brilliant costumes
of the few distinguished persons who had been invited to
witness my wedding. The ceremony was fixed to take place
at eleven, and at a little before half past ten I entered my
carriage, in company with the Duke di Marina as best man,
and drove to the scene of action. Clad in garments of ad-
mirable cut and fit, with well-brushed hair and beard, and
wearing a demeanor of skillfully mingled gravity and gayety,
I bore but little resemblance to the haggard, ferocious creat-
ure who had faced me in the mirror a few hours previously.

A strange and secret mirth too possessed me, a sort of
half-frenzied merriment that threatened every now and then
to break through the mask of dignified composure it was
necessary for me to wear. There were moments when I
could have laughed, shrieked, and sung with the fury of a
drunken madman. As it was, I talked incessantly ; my
conversation was flavored with bitter wit and pungent sar-
casm, and once or twice my friend the duke surveyed me with
an air of wondering inquiry, as though he thought my manr
ner forced or unnatural. My coachman was compelled to
drive rather slowly, owing to the pressing throngs that
swarmed at every corner and through every thoroughfare^

«98 r END ETTA !

while the yells of the masqueraders, the gambols of street
clowns, the firing of toy guns, and the sharp explosion of
colored bladders, that were swung to and fro and tossed in
the air by the merry populace, startled my spirited horses
frequently, and caused them to leap and prance to a some-
what dangerous extent, thus attracting more than the custom-
ary attention to my equipage. As it drew up at last at the
door of the chapel, I was surprised to see what a number of
spectators had collected there. There was a positive crowd
of loungers, beggars, children, and middle-class persons of
all sorts, who beheld my arrival with the utmost interest and
excitement.

In accordance with my instructions a rich crimson carpet
had been laid down from the very edge of the pavement
right into the church as far as the altar; a silken awning had
also been erected, under which bloomed a miniature avenue
of palms and tropical flowers. All eyes were turned upon
me curiously as I stepped from my carriage and entered the
chapel, side by side with the duke, and murmurs of my vast
wealth and generosity were audibly whispered as I passed
along. One old crone, hideously ugly, but with large, dark
piercing eyes, the fading lamps of a lost beauty, chuckled
and mumbled as she craned her skinny throat forward to
observe me more closely. " Ay, ay ! The saints know he
need be rich and generous — -pover 'uomo to fill her mouth. A
little red cruel mouth always open, that swallows money like
macaroni, and laughs at the suffering poor ! Ah ! that is
bad, bad ! He need be rich to satisfy her!"

The Duke di Marina caught these words and glanced
quickly at me, but I affected not to have heard. Inside the
chapel there were a great number of people, but my own
invited guests, not numbering more than twenty or thirty,
were seated in the space apportioned to them near the altar,
which was divided from the mere sight-seers by means of a
silken rope that crossed the aisle. I exchanged greetings
with most of these persons, and in return received their con-
gratulations ; then I walked with a firm deliberate step up
to the high altar and there waited. The magnificent paint-
ings on the wall round me seemed endowed with mysterious
life — the grand heads of saints and martyrs were turned
upon me as though they demanded — " Must thou do this
thing ? Hast thou no forgiveness ? "

And ever my stern answer, " Nay ; if hereafter I am tor-

VENDETTA ! 299

tured in eternal flame for all ages, yet now — now while I live,
I will be avenged ! "

A bleeding Christ suspended on His cross gazed at me re-
proachfully with long-enduring eyes of dreadful anguish — eyes
that seemed to say, " Oh, erring man, that tormentest thyself
with passing passions, shall not thine own end approach speed-
ily ? — and what comfort wilt thou have in thy last hour? "

And inwardly I answered, " None ! No shred of consola-
tion can ever again be mine — no joy, save fulfilled revenge !
And this I will possess though the heavens should crack and
the earth split asunder ! For once a woman's treachery shall
meet with punishment — for once such strange uncommon
justice shall be done ! "

And my spirit wrapped itself again in somber meditative
silence. The sunlight fell gloriously through the stained win-
dows— blue, gold, crimson, and violet shafts of dazzling radi-
ance glittered in lustrous flickering patterns on the snowy
whiteness of the marble altar, and slowly, softly, majestically,
as though an angel stepped forward, the sound of music stole
on the incense-laden air. The unseen organist played a sub-
lime voluntary of Palestrina's, and the round harmonious
notes came falling gently on one another like drops from a
fountain trickling on flowers.

I thought of my last wedding-day, when I had stood in this
very place, full of hope, intoxicated with love and joy, when
Guido Ferrari had been by my side, and had drunk in for the
first time the poisoned draught of temptation from the loveli-
ness of my wife's face and form ; when I, poor fool ! would
as soon have thought that God could lie, as that either of
these whom I adored could play me false. I drew the wed-
ding-ring from my pocket and looked at it — it was sparklingly
bright and appeared new. Yet it was old — it was the very
same ring I had drawn off mj wife's finger the day before ;
it had only been burnished afresh by a skilled jeweler, and
showed no more marks of wear than if it had been bought
that morning.

The great bell of the cathedral boomed out eleven, and as
the last stroke swung from the tower, the chapel doors were
flung more widely open : then came the gentle rustle of trail-
ing robes, and turning, I beheld my wife. She approached,
leaning lightly on the arm of the old Chevalier Mancini, who,
true to his creeds of gallantry, had accepted with alacrity the
post of paternal protector to the bride on this occasion ; and
I could not well wonder at the universal admiration that broke

300 VENDETTA!

in suppressed murmurs from all assembled, as this most fair
masterpiece of the devil's creation paced slowly and grace-
fully up the aisle. She wore a dress of clinging white velvet
made with the greatest simplicity — a lace veil, priceless in
value and fine as gossamer, draped her from head to foot —
the jewels I had given her flashed about her like scintillating
points of light, in her hair, at her waist, on her breast and un-
covered arms.

Being as she deemed herself, a widow, she had no bride-
maids; her train was held up by a handsome boy clad in the
purple and gold costume of a sixteenth century page — he was
the youngest son of the Duke di Marina. Two tiny girls of
five and six years of age went before, strewing white roses
and lilies, and stepping daintily backward as though in attend-
ance on a queen ; they looked like two fairies who had slipped
out of a midnight dream, in their little loose gowns of gold-
colored plush, with wreaths of meadow daffodils on their tum-
bled curly hair. They had been well trained by Nina herself,
for on arrival at the altar they stood demurely, one on each
side of her, the pretty page occupying his place behind, and
still holding up the end of the velvet train with a charming
air of hauteur and self-complacency.

The whole cortege was a picture in its way, as Nina had
meant it to be : she was fond of artistic effects. She smiled
languishingly upon me as she reached the altar, and sunk on
her knees beside me in prayer. The music swelled forth with
redoubled grandeur, the priests and acolytes appeared, the
marriage service commenced. As I placed the ring on the
book I glanced furtively at the bride ; her fair head was bent
demurely — she seemed absorbed in holy meditations. The
priest having performed the ceremony of sprinkling it with
holy water, I took it back, and set it for the second time on
my wife's soft white little hand — set it in accordance with the
Catholic ritual, first on the thumb, then on the second finger,
then on the third, and lastly on the fourth, where I left it in
its old place, wondering as I did so, and murmured, " fn
Nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti, Amen!" whether
she recognized it as the one she had worn so long ! But it
was evident she did not ; her calm was unbroken by even so
much as a start or tremor ; she had the self-possession of a
perfectly satisfied, beautiful, vain, and utterly heartless woman.

The actual ceremony of marriage was soon over ; then fol-
lowed the Mass, in which we, the newly-wedded pair, were
compelled, in submission to the rule of the Church, to receive

VENDETTA ! 301

the Sacrament. I shuddered as the venerable priest gave me
the Sacred Host. What had / to do with the inward purity
and peace this memento of Christ is supposed to leave in our
souls ? Methought the Crucified Image in the chapel regarded
-nne afresh with those pained eyes, and said, " Even so dost
diou seal thine own damnation ! " Yet s/ie, the true murder-
ess, the arch liar, received the Sacrament with the face of a
rapt angel — the very priest himself seemed touched by those
upraised, candid, glorious eyes, the sweet lips so reverently
parted, the absolute, reliable peace that rested on that white
brow, like an aureole round the head of a saint !

" If / am damned, then is she thrice damned ! " I said to
myself, recklessly. " I dare say hell is wide enough for us to
live apart when we get there."

Thus I consoled my conscience, and turned resolutely
away from the painted appealing faces on the wall — the faces
that in their various expressions of sorrow, resignation, pain,
and death seemed now to be all pervaded by another look,
that of astonishment — astonishment, so I fancied, that such
a man as I, and such a woman as she, should be found in
the width of the whole world, and should be permitted to
kneel at God's altar without being struck dead for their blas-
phemy !

Ah, good saints, well may you be astonished ! Had you
lived in our day you must have endured worse martyrdoms
than the boiling oil or the wrenching rack ! What you suf-
fered was the mere physical pain of torn muscles and scorch-
ing flesh, pain that at its utmost could not last long; but
your souls were clothed with majesty and power, and were
glorious in the light of love, faith, hope, and charity with all
men. We have reversed the position you occupied ! We
have partly learned, and are still learning, how 10 take care
of our dearly beloved bodies, how to nourisn and clothe them
and guard them from cold and disease ; but our souls, good
saints, the souls that with you were everything — these we
smirch, burn, and rack, torture and destroy — these we stamp
upon till we crush out God's image therefrom — these we
spit and jeer at, crucify and drown ! There is the difference
between you, the strong and wise of a fruitful olden time,
and we, the miserable, puny weaklings of a sterile modern
age.

Had you, sweet St. Dorothy, or fair child-saint Agnes,
lived in this day, you would have felt something sharper
than the executioner's sword ; for being pure, you would

30* VENDETTA!

have been dubbed the worst of women — being prayerful, you
would have been called hypocrites — being faithful, you would
have been suspected of all vileness — being loving, you would
have been mocked at more bitterly than the soldiers of Pon-
tius Pilate mocked Christ ; but you would have been Jree —
free to indulge your own opinions, for ours is the age of lib-
erty. Yet how much better for you to have died than have
lived till now !

Absorbed in strange, half-morose, half-speculative fancies,
I scarcely heard the close of the solemn service. I was
roused by a delicate touch from my wife, and I woke, as it
were, with a start, to hear the sonorous, crashing chords of
the wedding-march in '* Lohengrin " thundering through the
air. All was over : my wife was mine indeed — mine most
thoroughly — mine by the exceptionally close-tied knot of a
double marriage — mine to do as I would with "//// death
should us part:'- How long, I gravely mused, how long be-
fore death could come to do us this great service ? And
straightway I began counting, counting certain spaces of

time that must elapse before I was still absorbed in this

mental arithmetic, even while I mechanically offered my
arm to my wife as we entered the vestry to sign our names
in the marriage register. So occupied was I in my calcula-
tions that I nearly caught myself murmuring certain numbers
aloud. I checked this, and recalling my thoughts by a strong
effort, I strove to appear interested and delighted, as I
walked down the aisle with my beautiful bride, through the
ranks of admiring and eager spectators.

On reaching the outer doors of the chapel several flower-
girls emptied their full and fragrant baskets at our feet ; and
in return, I bade one of my servants distribute a bag of coins
I had brought for the purpose, knowing from former experi-
ence that it would be needed. To tread across such a heap
of flowers required some care, many of the blossoms cling-
ing to Nina's velvet train — we therefore moved forward
slowly.

Just as we had almost reached the carriage, a young girl,
with large laughing eyes set like flashing jewels in her soft
oval face, threw down in my path a cluster of red roses. A
sudden fury of impotent passion possessed me, and I crushed
my heel instantly and savagely upon the crimson blossoms,
stamping upon them again and again so violently that my
wife raised her delicate eyebrows in amazement, and the
pressing people who stood round us. shrugged tbeir shoulders,

VENDETTA ! 303

and gazed at one another with looks of utter bewilderment —
while the girl who had thrown them shrunk back in terror,
her face paling as she murmured, " Santissima Madonna ! mi
fapaura /" I bit my lip with vexation, inwardly cursing the
weakness of my own behavior. I laughed lightly in answer
to Nina's unspoken, half-alarmed inquiry.

" It is nothing — a mere fancy of mine. I hate red roses !
They look to me like human blood in flower ! "

She shuddered slightly.

" What a horrible idea ! How can you think of such a
thing ? "

I made no response, but assisted her into the carriage
with elaborate care and courtesy ; then entering it myself,
we drove together back to the hotel, where the wedding
breakfast awaited us.

This is always a feast of general uneasiness and embar-
rassment everywhere, even in the sunny, pleasure-loving
south ; every one is glad when it is over, and when the
flowery, unmeaning speeches and exaggerated compliments
are brought to a fitting and happy conclusion. Among my
assembled guests, all of whom belonged to the best and most
distinguished families in Naples, there was a pervading
atmosphere of undoubted chilliness : the women were dull,
being rendered jealous of the bride's beauty and the richness
of her white velvets and jewels ; the men were constrained,
and could scarcely force themselves into even the appear-
ance of cordiality — they evidently thought that, with such
wealth as mine, I would have done much better to remain a
bachelor. In truth, Italians, and especially Neapolitans,
are by no means enthusiastic concerning the supposititious
joys of marriage. They are apt to shake their heads, and
to look upon it as a misfortune rather than a blessing. " U
altar e e la tomba deir amore, " is a very common saying with
us, and very commonly believed.

It was a relief to* us all when we rose from the splendidly
appointed table, and separated for a few hours. We were
to meet again at the ball, which was fixed to commence at
nine o'clock in the evening. The cream of the event was to
be tasted then — the final toasting of the bride was to take
place then — then there would be music, mirth and dancing,
and all the splendor of almost royal revelry. I escorted my
wife with formal courtesy to a splendid apartment which had
been prepared for her, for she had, as she told me, many things
to do — as, for instance, to take off her bridal robes, to study

304 VENDETTA!

every detail of her wondrous ball costume for the night, and
to superintend her maid in the packing of her trunks for the
next day's journey. The next day ! I smiled grimly — I
wondered how she would enjoy her trip ! Then I kissed her
hand with the most profound respect and left her to repose
— to refresh and prepare herself for the brilliant festivity of
the evening.

Our marriage customs are not as coarse as those of some
countries ; a bridegroom in Italy thinks it scarcely decent to
persecute his bride with either his presence or his caresses
as soon as the Church has made her his. On the contrary, if
ardent, he restrains his ardor — he forbears to intrude, he
strives to keep up the illusion, the rose-colored light, or
rather mist, of love as long as possible, and he has a wise,
instinctive dread of becoming overfamiliar ; well knowing
that nothing kills romance so swiftly and surely as the bare
blunt prose of close and constant proximity. And I, like
other gentlemen of my rank and class, gave my twice-wedded
wife her liberty — the last hours of liberty she would ever
know. I left her to busy herself with the trifles she best
loved — trifles of dress and personal adornment, for which
many women barter away their soul's peace and honor, and
divest themselves of the last shred of right and honest prin-
ciple merely to outshine others of their own sex, and sow
broadcast heart-burnings, petty envies, mean hatreds and
contemptible spites, where, if they did but choose, there
might be a widely different harvest.

It is easy to understand the feelings of Marie Stuart when
she arrayed herself in her best garments for her execution :
it was simply the heroism of supreme vanity, the desire to
fascinate if possible the very headsman. One can under-
stand any beautiful woman being as brave as she. Harder
than death itself would it have seemed to her had she been
compelled to appear on the scaffold looking hideous. She
was resolved to make the most of her charms so long as life
lasted. I thought of that sweet-lipped, luscious-smiling
queen as I parted from my wife for a few brief hours : royal
and deeply injured lady though she was, she merited her
fate, for she was treacherous — there can be no doubt of that.
Yet most people reading her history pity her — I know not
why. It is strange that so much of the world's sympathy is
wasted on false women !

I strolled into one of the broad loggie of the hotel, from
whence I could see a portion of the Piazza del Popolo, and

VENDETTA ! 305

lighting a cigar, I leisurely watched the frolics of the crowd.
The customary fooling proper to the day was going on, and
no detail of it seemed to pall on the good-natured, easily
amused folks who must have seen it all so often before.
Much laughter was being excited by the remarks of a vender
of quack medicines, who was talking with extreme volubility
to a number of gayly dressed girls and fishermen. I could
not distinguish his words, but I judged he was selling the
" elixir of love," from his absurd amatory gestures — an elixir
compounded, no doubt, of a little harmless eau sucrt.

Flags tossed on the breeze, trumpets b.tiyed, drums beat ;
impromsatores twanged their guitars and mandolins loudly
to attract attention, and failing in their efforts, swore at each
other with the utmost joviality and heartiness ; flower-girls
and lemonade-sellers made the air ring with their conflicting
cries : now and then a shower of chalky confetti flew out
from adjacent windows, dusting with white powder the coats
of the passers-by ; clusters of flowers tied with favors of gay-
colored ribbon were lavishly flung at the feet of bright-eyed
peasant girls, who rejected or accepted them at pleasure, with
light words of badinage or plavful repartee ; clowns danced
and tumbled, dogs barked, church bells clanged, and through
all the waving width of color and movement crept the mis-
erable, shrinking forms of diseased and loathly beggars whin-
ing for a soldo, and clad in rags that .barely covered their
halting, withered limbs.

It was a scene to bewilder the brain and dazzle the eyes,
and I was just turning away from it out of sheer fatigue,
when a sudden cessation of movement in the swaying, whirl-
ing crowd, and a slight hush, caused me to look out once
more. I perceived the cause of the momentary stillness — a
funeral cortege appeared, moving at a slow and solemn pace;
as it passed across the square, heads were uncovered, and
women crossed themselves devoutly. Like a black shadowy
snake it coiled through the mass of shifting color and brill-
iance— another moment, and it was gone. The depressing
effect of its appearance was soon effaced — the merry crowds
resumed their thousand and one freaks of folly, their shriek-
ing, laughing and dancing, and all was as before. Why not ?

The dead are soon forgotten ; none knew that better than
I ! Leaning my arms lazily on the edge of the balcony, I
finished smoking my cigar. That glimpse of death in the
midst oC life had filled me with a certain satisfaction.
Strangely enough, my thoughts began to busy themselves

20

306 VENDETTA!

with the old modes of torture that used to be legal, and that,
after all, were not so unjust when practiced upon persons
professedly vile. For instance, the iron coffin of Lissa — that
ingeniously contrived box in which the criminal was bound
fast hand and foot, and then was forced to watch the huge
lid descending slowly, slowly, slowly, half an inch at a time,
till at last its ponderous weight crushed into a flat and
mangled mass the writhing wretch within, who had for long
agonized hours watched death steadily approaching. Sup-
pose that /had such a coffin now ! I stopped my train of
reflection with a slight shudder. No, no ; she whom I sought
to punish was so lovely, such a softly colored, witching,
gracious body, though tenanted by a wicked soul — she should
keep her beauty ! I would not destroy that — I would be
satisfied with my plan as already devised.

I threw away the end of my smoked-out cigar and entered
my own rooms. Calling Vincenzo, who was now resigned
and even eager to go to Avellino, I gave him his final in-
structions, and placed in his charge the iron cash-box, which,
unknown to him, contained 12,000 francs in notes and gold.
This was the last good action I could do : it was a sufficient
sum to set him up as a well-to-do farmer and fruit-grower in
Avellino with Lilla and her little dowry combined. He also
carried a sealed letter to Signora Monti, which I told him
she was not to open till a week had elapsed ; this letter
explained the contents of the box and my wishes concerning
it ; it also asked the good woman to send to the Villa Romani
for Assunta and her helpless charge, poor old paralyzed
Giacomo, and to tend the latter as well as she could till his
death, which I knew could not be far off.

I had thought of everything as far as possible, and I could
already foresee what a happy, peaceful home there would be
in the little mountain town guarded by the Monte Vergine.
Lilla and Vincenzo would wed, I knew ; Signora Monti and
Assunta would console each other with their past memories
and in the tending of Lilla's children ; for some little time,
perhaps, they would talk of me and wonder sorrowfully where
I had gone ; then gradually they would forget me, even as I
desired to be forgotten.

Yes ; I had done all I could for those who had never
wronged me. I had acquitted myself of my debt to Vincenzo
for his affection and fidelity ; the rest of my way was clear.
I had no more to do save the one thing, the one deed which
bad clamored so long for accomplishment. Revenge, like a

VENDETTA / 307

beckoning ghost, had led me on step by step for many weary
days and months, which to me had seemed cycles of suffering ;
but now it paused — it faced me — and turning its blood-red
eyes upon my soul said, " Strike ! "

CHAPTER XXXV.

THE ball opened brilliantly. The rooms were magnifi-
cently decorated, and the soft luster of a thousand lamps
shone on a scene of splendor almost befitting the court of a
king. Some of the stateliest nobles in all Italy were present,
their breasts glittering with jeweled orders and ribbons of
honor ; some of the loveliest women to be seen anywhere in
the world flitted across the polished floors, like poets' dreams
of the gliding sylphs that haunt rivers and fountains by
moonlight.

But fairest where all were fair, peerless in the exuberance
of her triumphant vanity, and in the absolute faultlessness of
her delicate charms, was my wife — the bride of the day, the
heroine of the night. Never had she looked so surpassingly
beautiful, and I, even I, felt my pulse beat quicker, and the
blood course more hotly through my veins, as I beheld her,
radiant, victorious, and smiling — a veritable queen of the
fairies, as dainty as a drop of dew, as piercing to the eye as
a flash of light. Her dress was some wonderful mingling of
misty lace, with the sheen of satin and glimmering showers
of pearl ; diamonds glittered on her bodice like sunlight on
white foam ; the brigand's jewels flashed gloriously on her
round white throat and in her tiny shell-like ears, while the
masses of her gold hair were coiled to the top of her small
head and there caught by a priceless circlet of rose-
brilliants — brilliants that I well remembered — they had be-
longed to my mother. Yet more lustrous than the light of the
gems she wore was the deep, ardent glory of her eyes, dark
as night and luminous as stars ; more delicate than the filmy
robes that draped her was the pure, pearl-like whiteness of her
neck, which was just sufficiently displayed to be graceful
without suggesting immodesty.

For Italian women do not uncover their bosoms for the
casual inspection of strangers, as is the custom of their Eng-
lish and German sisters ; they know well enough that any
lady venturing to wear a decollete dress would find it impossi;

308 VEND ETTA I

ble to obtain admittance to a court ball at the Palazzo Quirv
nale. She would be looked upon as one of a questionable
class, and no matter how high her rank and station, would
run the risk of ejection from the doors, as on one occasion
did unfortunately happen to an English peeress, who, ignorant
of Italian customs, went to an evening reception in Rome ar-
rayed in a very low bodice with straps instead of sleeves. Her
remonstrances were vain ; she was politely but firmly refused
admittance, though told she might gain her point by chang-
ing her costume, which I believe she wisely did.

Some of the grandes dames present at the ball that night
wore dresses the like of which are seldom or never seen out
of Italy — robes sown with jewels, and thick with wondrous
embroidery, such as have been handed down from genera-
tion to generation through hundreds of years. As an example
of this, the Duchess of Marina's cloth of gold train, stitched
with small rubies and seed-pearls, had formerly belonged to
the family of Lorenzo de Medici. Such garments as these,
when they are part of the property of a great house, are worn
only on particular occasions, perhaps once in a year ; and
then they are laid carefully by and sedulously protected from
dust and moths and damp, receiving as much attention as
the priceless pictures and books of a famous historical man-
sion. Nothing ever designed by any great modern tailor or
milliner can hope to compete with the magnificent workman-
ship and durable material of thefes/a dresses that are locked
preciously away in the old oaken coffers of the greatest
Italian families — dresses that are beyond valuation, because
of the romances and tragedies attached to them, and which,
when worn, make all the costliest fripperies of to-day look
flimsy and paltry beside them, like the attempts of a servant
to dress as tastefully as her mistress.

Such glitter of gold and silver, such scintillations from the
burning eyes of jewels, such cloud-like wreaths of floating
laces, such subtle odors of rare and exquisite perfume, all
things that most keenly prick and stimulate the senses were
round me in fullest force this night — this one dazzling,
supreme and terrible night, that was destined to bum into
my brain like a seal of scorching fire. Yes ; till I die, that
night will remain with me as though it were a breathing, sen-
tient thing; and after death, who knows whether it may not
uplift itself in some tangible, awful shape, and confront me
with its flashing mock-luster, and the black heart of its true
meaning in its menacing eyes, to take its drear place by the

VENDETTA! 309

side of my abandoned soul through all eternity ! I remem-
ber now how I shivered and started out of the bitter reverie
into which I had fallen at the sound of my wife's low, laugh-
ing voice.

" Tou must dance, Cesare," she said, with a mischievous
smile. " You are forgetting your duties. You should open
the ball with me ! "

I rose at once mechanically.

" What dance is it ? " I asked, forcing a smile. " I feai
you will find me but a clumsy partner."

She pouted.

" Oh, surely not ! You are not going to disgrace me — you
really must try and dance properly just this once. It will
look so stupid if you make any mistake. The band was
going to play a quadrille ; I would not have it, and told
them to strike up the Hungarian waltz instead. But I as-
sure you I shall never forgive you if you waltz badly — nothing
looks so awkward and absurd."

I made no answer, but placed my arm round her waist and
stood ready to begin. I avoided looking at her as much as
possible, for it was growing more and more difficult with each
moment that passed to hold the mastery over myself. I was
consumed between hate and love. Yes, love ! — of an evil
kind, I own, and in which there was no shred of reverence —
filled me with a sort of foolish fury, which mingled itself with
another and manlier craving, namely, to proclaim her vile-
ness then and there before all her titled and admiring
friends, and to leave her shamed in the dust of scorn, despised
and abandoned. Yet I knew well that were I to speak out
— to declare my history and hers before that brilliant crowd
—I should be accounted mad, and that for a woman such as
she there existed no shame.

The swinging measure of the slow Hungarian waltz, that
most witching of dances, danced perfectly only by those of
the warm-blooded southern temperament, now commenced.
It was played pianissimo, and stole through the room like the
fluttering breath of a soft sea wind. I had always been an
excellent waltzer, and my step had fitted in with that of Nina
as harmoniously as the two notes of a perfect chord. She
found it so on this occasion, and glanced up with a look of
gratified surprise as I bore her lightly with languorous, dream-
like ease of movement through the glittering ranks of our
guests, who watched us admiringly as we circled the room
tw«> or three times.

310 VENDETTA!

Then — all present followed our lead, and in a couple o!
minutes the ball-room was like a moving flower-garden in full
bloom, rich with swaying colors and rainbow-like radiance ;
while the music, growing stronger, and swelling out in marked
and even time, echoed forth like the sound of clear-toned bells
broken through by the singing of birds. My heart beat furi-
ously, my brain reeled, my senses swam as I felt my wife's
warm breath on my cheek ; I clasped her waist more closely,
I held her little gloved hand more firmly. She felt the double
pressure, and, lifting her white eyelids fringed with those
long dark lashes that gave such a sleepy witchery to her eyes,
her lips parted in a little smile.

" At last you love me ! " she whispered.

" At last, at last," I muttered, scarce knowing what I said.
"Had I not loved you at first, bellissima, I should not have
been to you what I am to-night."

A low ripple of laughter was her response.

" I knew it," she murmured again, half breathlessly, as I
drew her with swifter and more voluptuous motion into the
vortex of the dancers. " You tried to be cold, but I knew I
could make you love me — yes, love me passionately — and I
was right." Then with an outburst of triumphant vanity she
added, " I believe you would die for me ! "

I bent over her more closely. My hot quick breath moved
the feathery gold of her hair.

" I have died for you," I said ; " I have killed my old self
for your sake."

Dancing still, encircled by my arms, and gliding along like
a sea-nymph on moonlighted foam, she sighed restlessly.

" Tell me what you mean, amor mio" she asked, in the
tenderest tone in the world.

Ah, God ! that tender seductive cadence of her voice, how
well I knew it ! — how often had it lured away my strength,
as the fabled siren's song had been wont to wreck the listen-
ing mariner.

" I mean that you have changed me, sweetest ! " I whis-
pered, in fierce, hurried accents. " I have seemed old — for
you to-night I will be young again — for you my chilled slow
blood shall again be hot and quick as lava — for you my long-
buried past shall rise in all its pristine vigor ; for you I will
be a lover, such as perhaps no woman ever had or ever will
have again ! "

She heard, and nestled closer to me in the dance. My
words pleased her. Next to her worship of wealth her de-

VENDETTA! 311

light was to arouse the passions of men. She was very
panther-like in her nature — her first tendency was to devour,
her next to gambol with any animal she met, though her sleek,
swift playfulness might mean death. She was by no means
exceptional in this ; there are many women like her.

As the music of the waltz grew slower and slower, drop-
ping down to a sweet and persuasive conclusion, I led my
wife to \\er fauteuil, and resigned her to the care of a distin-
guished Roman prince who was her next partner. Then, un-
observed, I slipped out to make inquiries concerning Vincenzo.
He had gone ; one of the waiters at the hotel, a friend of his,
had accompanied him and seen him into the train for Avellino.
He had looked in at the ball-room before leaving, and had
watched me stand up to dance with my wife, then " with
tears in his eyes " — so said the vivacious little waiter who had
just returned from the station — he had started without daring
to wish me good-bye.

I heard this information of course with an apparent kindly
indifference, but in my heart I felt a sudden vacancy, a drear,
strange loneliness. With my faithful servant near me I had
felt conscious of the presence of a friend, for friend he was in
his own humble, unobtrusive fashion ; but now I was alone
— alone in a loneliness beyond all conceivable comparison —
alone to do my work, without prevention or detection. I felt,
as it were, isolated from humanity, set apart with my victim
on some dim point of time, from which the rest of the world
receded, where the searching eye of the Creator alone could
behold me. Only she and I and God — these three were all
that existed for me in the universe ; between these three must
justice be fulfilled.

Musingly, with downcast eyes, I returned to the ball-room.
At the door a young girl faced me — she was the only daugh-
ter of a great Neapolitan house. Dressed in pure white, as
all such maidens are, with a crown of snow-drops on her
dusky hair, and her dimpled face lighted with laughter, she
looked the very embodiment of early spring. She addressed
me somewhat timidly, yet with all a child's frankness.

" Is not this delightful ? I feel as if I were in fairy-land !
Do you know this is my first ball ? "

I smiled wearily.

" Ay, truly ? And you are happy ? "

" Oh, happiness is not the word — it is ecstasy ! How I
wish it could last forever ! And — is it not strange ? — I did
not know I was beautiful till to-night."

312 VENDETTA!

She said this with perfect simplicity, and a pleased smile
radiated her fair features. I glanced at her with cold scru-
tiny.

" Ah ! and some one has told you so."

She blushed and laughed a little consciously.

" Yes ; the great Prince de Majano. And he is too noble
to say what is not true, so I must be 'la piu bell a donzeUaJ as
he said, must I not ? "

I touched the snow-drops that she wore in a white cluster
at her breast.

" Look at your flowers, child," I said, earnestly. " See
how they begin to droop in this heated air. The poor things !
How glad they would feel could they again grow in the cool
wet moss of the woodlands, waving their little bells to the
wholesome, fresh wind ! Would they revive now, think you,
for your great Prince de Majano if he told them they were
fair? So with your life and heart, little one — pass them
through the scorching fire of flattery, and their purity must
wither even as these fragile blossoms. And as for beauty —
are you more beautiful than she 1 "

And I pointed slightly to my wife, who was at that moment
courtesying to her partner in the stately formality of the first
quadrille.

My young companion looked, and her clear eyes darkened
enviously.

" Ah, no, no ! But if I wore such lace and satin and
pearls, and had such jewels, I might perhaps be more like
her ! "

I sighed bitterly. The poison had already entered this
child's soul. I spoke brusquely.

" Pray that you may never be like her," I said, with som-
ber sternness, and not heeding her look of astonishment.
" You are young — you cannot yet have thrown off religion.
Well, when you go home to-night, and kneel beside your little
bed, made holy by the cross above it and your mother's
blessing — pray — pray with all your strength that you may
never resemble in the smallest degree that exquisite woman
yonder ! So may you be spared her fate."

I paused, for the girl's eyes were dilated in extreme wonder
and fear. I looked at her, and laughed abruptly and
harshly.

" I forgot," I said ; " the lady is my wife — I should have
thought of that ! I was speaking of — another whom you do
ijot know. Pardon me ! when I am fatigued my memory

VENDETTA! 313

wanders. Pay no attention to my foolish remarks. Enjoy
yourself, my child, but do not believe all the pretty speeches
of the Prince de Majano. A rivederd / "

And smiling a forced smile I left her, and mingled with
the crowd of my guests, greeting one here, another there,
jesting lightly, paying unmeaning compliments to the women
who expected them, and striving to distract my thoughts
with the senseless laughter and foolish chatter of the glitter-
ing cluster of society butterflies, all the while desperately
counting the tedious minutes, and wondering whether my
patience, so long on the rack, would last out its destined
time. As I made my way through the brilliant assemblage,
Luziano Salustri, the poet, greeted me with a grave smile.

" I have had little time to congratulate you, conte," he
said, in those mellifluous accents of his which were like his
own improvised music, "but I assure you I do so with all my
heart. Even in my most fantastic dreams I have never
pictured a fairer heroine of a life's romance than the lady
who is now the Countess Oliva."

I silently bowed my thanks.

" I am of a strange temperament, I suppose," he resumed.
" To-night this ravishing scene of beauty and splendor
makes me sad at heart, I know not why. It seems too brill-
iant, too dazzling. I would as soon go home and compose a
dirge as anything."

I laughed satirically.

" Why not do it ? " I said. " You are not the first person
who, being present at a marriage, has, with perverse incon-
gruity, meditated on a funeral ! "

A wistful look came into his brilliant poetic eyes.

" I have thought once or twice," he remarked in a low
tone, " of that misguided young man Ferrari. A pity, was it
not, that the quarrel occurred between you ? "

" A pity indeed ! " I replied, brusquely. Then taking
him by the arm I turned him round so that he faced my wife,
who was standing not far off. " But look at the — the — angel
I have married ! Is she not a fair cause for a dispute even
unto death ? Fy on thee, Luziano ! — why think of Ferrari ?
He is not the first man who has been killed for the sake of
a woman, nor will he be the last ! "

Salustri shrugged his shoulders, and was silent for a minute
or two. Then he added with his own bright smile :

" Still, amico, it would have been much better if it had
ended in coffee and cognac. Myself, I wou!4 rather shoo*

314 VENDETTA!

a man with an epigram than a leaden bullet ! By the bye,
do you remember our talking of Cain and Abel that night ? "

" Perfectly."

" I have wondered since," he continued half merrily, half
seriously, " whether the real cause of their quarrel has ever
been rightly told. I should not be at all surprised if one of
these days some savant does not discover a papyrus contain-
ing a missing page of Holy Writ, which will ascribe the iva
son of the first bloodshed to a love affair. Perhaps tin-re
were wood nymphs in those days, as we are assured there were
giants, and some dainty Dryad might have driven the first pair
of human brothers to desperation by her charms ! What say
you ? "

" It is more than probable," I answered, lightly. " Make
a poem of it, Salustri ; people will say you have improved
on the Bible ! "

And I left him with a gay gesture to join other groups,
and to take my part in the various dances which were now
following quickly on one another. The supper was fixed to
take place at midnight. At the first opportunity I had, I
looked at the time. Quarter to eleven ! — my heart beat
quickly, the blood rushed to my temples and surged noisily
in my ears. The hour I had waited for so long and so
eagerly had come ! At last ! at last !

****** *

Slowly and with a hesitating step I approached my wife.
She was resting after her exertions in the dance, and reclined
languidly in a low velvet chair, chatting gayly with that very
Prince de Majano whose honeyed compliments had partly
spoiled the budding sweet nature of the youngest girl in the
room. Apologizing for interrupting the conversation, I low-
ered my voice to a persuasive tenderness as I addressed her.

" Cara sposina mia! permit me to remind you of your
promise."

What a radiant look she gave me !

" I am all impatience to fulfill it ! Tell me when — and
how ? "

"Almost immediately. You know the private passage
through which we entered the hotel this morning on our re-
turn from church ? "

" Perfectly."

" Well, meet me there in twenty minutes. We must avoid
being observed as we pass out. But," and I touched her
delicate dress, " you will wear something warmer than this ? "

VENDETTA!

3*5

" I have a long sable cloak that will do," she replied,
brightly. " We are not going far ? "

" No, not far."

" We shall return in time for supper, of course ? "

I bent my head.

" Naturally ! "

Her eyes danced mirthfully.

" How romantic it seems ! A moonlight stroll with you
will be charming ! Who shall say you are not a sentimentali
bridegroom ? Is there a bright moon ? "

" I believe so."

" Cosa bellissima /" and she laughed sweetly. " I look for-
ward to the trip ! In twenty minutes then I shall be with
you at the place you name, Cesare ; in the meanwhile the
Marchese Gualdro claims me for this mazurka."

And she turned with her bewitching grace of manner to
the marchese, who at that moment advanced with his court-
eous bow and fascinating smile, and I watched them as they
glided forward together in the first figure of the elegant
Polish dance, in which all lovely women look their loveliest.

Then, checking the curse that rose to my lips, I hurried
away. Up to my own room I rushed with feverish haste,
full of impatience to be rid of the disguise I had worn so
long.

Within a few minutes I stood before my mirror, transformed
into my old self as nearly as it was possible to be. I could
not alter the snowy whiteness of my hair, but a few deft
quick strokes of the razor soon divested me of the beard
that had given me so elderly an aspect, and nothing remained
but the mustache curling slightly up at the corners of the lip,
as I had worn it in past days. I threw aside the dark glasses,
and my eyes, densely brilliant, and fringed with the long
lashes that had always been their distinguishing feature,
5hone with all the luster of strong and vigorous youth. I
straightened myself up to my full height, I doubled my fist
and felt it hard as iron; I laughed aloud in the triumphant
power of my strong manhood. I thought of the old rag-
dealing Jew — " You could kill anything easily." Ay, so I
could ! — even without the aid of the straight swift steel of
the Milanese dagger which I now drew from its sheath and
regarded steadfastly, while I carefully felt the edge of the
blade from hilt to point. Should I take it with me ? I
hesitated. Yes ! it might be needed. I slipped it safely
and secretly into my vest

3i6 VENDETTA*

And now the proofs — the proofs ! I had them all ready to
my hand, and gathered them quickly together ; first the things
that had been buried with me — the gold chain on which hung
the locket containing the portraits of my wife and child, the
purse and card-case which Nina herself had given me, the
crucifix the monk had laid on my breast in the coffin. The
thought of that coffin moved me to a stern smile — that splin-
tered, damp, and molderingwood must speak for itself by and
by. Lastly I look the letters sent me by the Marquis D'Aven-
court — the beautiful, passionate love epistles she had written
to Guido Ferrari in Rome.

Now, was that all ? I thoroughly searched both my rooms,
ransacking every corner. I had destroyed everything that
could give the smallest clew to my actions ; I left nothing
save furniture and small valuables, a respectable present
enough in their way, to the landlord of the hotel.

I glanced again at myself in the mirror. Yes ; I was once
more Fabio Romani, in spite of my white hair ; no one that
had ever known me intimately could doubt my identity. I had
changed my evening dress for a rough, every-day suit, and
now over this I threw my long Almaviva cloak, which draped
me from head to foot. I kept its folds well up about my
mouth and chin, and pulled on a soft slouched hat, with the
brim far down over my eyes. There was nothing unusual in
such a costume ; it was common enough to many Neapolitans
who have learned to dread the chill night winds that blow
down from the lofty Apennines in early spring. Thus attired,
too, I knew my features would be almost invisible to her^
more especially as the place of our rendezvous was a long
dim entresol lighted only by a single oil-lamp, a passage that
led into the garden, one that was only used for private pur-
poses, having nothing to do with the ordinary modes of exit
and entrance to and from the hotel.

Into this hall I now hurried with an eager step ; it was de-
serted; she was not there. Impatiently I waited — the
minutes seemed hours ! Sounds of music floated toward me
from the distant ball-room — the dreamy, swinging measure
of a Viennese waltz. I could almost hear the flying feet of
the dancers. I was safe from all observation where I stood
— the servants were busy preparing the grand marriage sup-
per, and all the inhabitants of the hotel were absorbed in
watching the progress of the brilliant and exceptional festiv-
ities of the night.

Would she never come ? Suppose, after all, she should es*

VENDETTA ! 317

cape me ! I trembled at the idea, then put it from me with a
smile at my own folly. No, her punishment was just, and in
her case the Fates were inflexible. So I thought and felt. I
paced up and down feverishly ; I could count the thick,
heavy throbs of my own heart. How long the moments
seemed ! Would she never come ? Ah ! at last ! I caught
the sound of a rustling robe and a light step — a breath of del-
icate fragrance was wafted on the air like the odor of falling
orange-blossoms. I turned, and saw her approaching. With
swift grace she ran up to me as eagerly as a child, her heavy
cloak of rich Russian sable falling back from her shoulders
and displaying her glittering dress, the dark fur of the hood
heightening by contrast the fairness of her lovely flushed
face, so that it looked like the face of one of Correggio's an-
gels framed in ebony and velvet. She laughed, and her eyes
flashed saucily.

" Did I keep you waiting, caro mio ? " she whispered ; and
standing on tiptoe she kissed the hand with which I held my
cloak muffled about me. " How tall you look in that Alma-
viva ! I am so sorry I am a little late, but that last waltz was
so exquisite I could not resist it ; only I wish you had danced
it with me."

" You honor me by the wish," I said, keeping one arm
about her waist and drawing her toward the door that opened
into the garden. " Tell me, how did you manage to leave
the ball-room ? "

" Oh, easily. I slipped away from my partner at the end
of the waltz, and told him I should return immediately.
Then I ran upstairs to my room, got my cloak — and here I
am."

And she laughed again. She was evidently in the highest
spirits.

" You are very good to come with me at all, mia bella" I
murmured as gently as I could ; " it is kind of you to thus
humor my fancy. Did you see your maid ? does she know
where you are going ? ''

" She ? Oh, no, she was not in my room at all. She is a
great coquette, you know ; I dare say .she is amusing herself
with the waiters in the kitchen. Poor thing ! I hope she en-
joys it."

I breathed freely ; we were so far undiscovered. No one
had as yet noticed our departure — no one had the least clew
to my intentions. I opened the door of the passage noise-
lessly, and we passed out. Wrapping my wife's cloak more

3lS VEND ETTA I

closely about her with much apparent tenderness, I led her
quickly across the garden. There was no one in sight — we
were entirely unobserved. On reaching the exterior gate of
the inclosure I left her for a moment, while I summoned a
carriage, a common fiacre. She expressed some surprise on
seeing the vehicle.

" I thought we were not going far ? " she said.

I reassured her on this point, telling her that I only desired
to spare her all possible fatigue. Satisfied with this explana-
tion, she suffered me to assist her into the carriage, i fol-
lowed her, and calling to the driver, " A la Villa Guarda,"
we rattled away over the rough uneven stones of the back
streets of the city.

" La Villa Guarda ! " exclaimed Nina. " Where is that ? "

" It is an old house," I replied, " situated near the place I
spoke to you of, where the jewels are."
* " Oh ! "

And apparently contented, she nestled back in the carriage,
permitting her head to rest lightly on my shoulder. I drew
her closer to me, my heart beating with a fierce, terrible joy.

a Mine — mine at last ! " I whispered in her ear. " Mine
forever ! "

She turned her face upward and smiled victoriously; her
cool fragrant lips met my burning, eager ones in a close,
passionate kiss. Yes, I kissed her now — why should I not ?
She was as much mine as any purchased slave, and merited
less respect than a sultan's occasional female toy. And as
she chose to caress me, I let her do so : I allowed her to
think me utterly vanquished by the battery of her charms.
Yet whenever I caught an occasional glimpse of her face as
we drove along in the semi-darkness, I could not help won-
dering at the supreme vanity of the woman ! Her self-satis-
faction was so complete, and, considering her approaching
fate, so tragically absurd !

She was entirely delighted with herself, her dress, and her
conquest — as she thought — of me. Who could measure the
height of the dazzling visions she indulged in ; who could
fathom the depths of her utter selfishness !

Seeing one like her, beautiful, wealthy, and above all — so-
ciety knows I speak the truth — well-dressed, for by the latter
virtue alone is a woman allowed any precedence nowadays —
would not all the less fortunate and lovely of her sex feel
somewhat envious ? Ah, yes ; they would and they do ; but
believe me, the selfish feminine thing, whose only sincere

VENDETTA! 319

worship is offered at the shrines of Fashion and Folly, is of
all creatures the one whose life is to be despised and never
desired, and whose death makes no blank even in the circles
of her so-called best friends.

I knew well enough that there was not a soul in Naples
who was really attached to my wife — not one who would miss
her, no, not even a servant — though she, in her superb self-
conceit, imagined herself to be the adored beauty of the city.
Those who had indeed loved her she had despised, neglected,
and betrayed. Musingly I looked down upon her as she
rested back in the carriage, encircled by my arm, while now
and then a little sigh of absolute delight in herself broke
from her lips — but we spoke scarcely at all. Hate has almost
as \ittle to say as love !

The night was persistently stormy, though no rain fell — the
gale had increased in strength, and the white moon only
occasionally glared out from the masses of white and gray
cloud that rushed like flying armies across the sky, and her
fitful light shone dimly, as though she were a spectral torch
glimmering through a forest of shadow. Now and again
bursts of music, or the blare of d/scordant trumpets, reached
our ears from the more distant thoroughfares where the people
were still celebrating the feast of Giovedi Grasso, or the
tinkle of passing mandolins chimed in with the rolling
wheels of our carriage ; but in a few moments we were out
of reach f even such sounds as these.

We passed the outer suburbs of the city and were soon on
the open road. The man I had hired drove fast ; he knew
nothing of us, he was probably anxious to get back quickly
to the crowded squares and illuminated quarters where the
principal merriment of the evening was going on, and no
doubt thought I showed but a poor taste in requiring to be
driven away, even for a short distance, out of Naples on such
a night of feasting and folly. He stopped at last ; the cas-
tellated turrets of the villa I had named were faintly visible
among the trees ; he jumped down from his box and came
to us.

" Shall I drive up to the house ? " he asked, looking as
though he would rather be spared this trouble.

" No," I answered, indifferently, " you need not. The dis-
tance is short, we will walk."

And I stepped out into the road and paid him his money.

" You seem anxious to get back to the city, my friend," J
said, half jocosely.

320 VENDETTA J

"Si, dawlro /" he replied, with decision, " I hope to get
many a good fare from the Count Oliva's marriage-ball to-
night."

" Ah ! he is a rich fellow, that count," I said, as I assisted
my wife to alight, keeping her cloak well muffled round her
so that this common fellow should not perceive the glitter of
her costly costume ; " I wish I were he ! "

The man grinned and nodded emphatically. He had no
suspicion of my identity. He took me, in all probability,
for one of those " gay gallants " so common in Naples, who,
on finding at some public entertainment a " dama " to their
taste, hurry her off, carefully cloaked and hooded, to a mys-
terious nook known only to themselves, where they can
complete the romance of the evening entirely to their own
satisfaction. Bidding me a lively buona notte, he sprung on
his box again, jerked his horse's head violently round with a
volley of oaths, and drove away at a rattling pace. Nina,
standing on the road beside me, looked after him with a
bewildered air.

" Could he not have waited to take us back ? " she asked.

" No," I answered, brusquely; "we shall return by a
different route. Come."

And passing my arm round her, I led her onward. She
shivered slightly, and there was a sound of querulous com-
plaint in her voice as she said :

" Have we to go much further, Cesare ? "

"Three minutes, walk will bring us to our destination," I
replied, briefly, adding in a softer tone, " Are you cold ? "

" A little," and she gathered her sables more closely about
her and pressed nearer to my side. The capricious moon
here suddenly leaped forth like the pale ghost of a frenzied
dancer, standing tiptoe on th« edge of a precipitous chasm
of black clouds. Her rays, pallidly green and cold, fell full
on the dreary stretch of land before us, touching up with
luminous distinctness those white mysterious milestones of
the Campo Santo which mark where the journeys of men,
women, and children began and where they left off, but
never explain in what new direction they are now traveling.
My wife saw and stopped, trembling violently.

" What place is this ? " she asked, nervously.

In all her life she had never visited a cemetery — she had
too great a horror of death.

" It is where I keep all my treasures," I answered, and
my voice sounded strange and harsh in my own ears^ while I

VENDETTA f 321

tightened my grasp of her full, warm waist. " Come with
me, my beloved ! " and in spite of my efforts, my tone was
one of bitter mockery. " With me you need have no fear !
Come ! "

And I led her on, too powerless to resist my force, too
startled to speak — on, on, on, over the rank dewy grass and
unmarked ancient graves — on, till the low frowning gate of
the house of my dead ancestors faced me — on, on, on, with
the strength of ten devils in my arm as I held her — on, on,
on, to her just doom !

CHAPTER XXXVI.

THE moon had retreated behind a dense wall of cloud, and
the landscape was enveloped in semi-darkness. Reaching
the door of the vault, I unlocked it ; it opened instantly, and
fell back with a sudden clang. She whom I held fast with
my iron grip shrunk back, and strove to release herself from
my grasp.

" Where are you going ? " she demanded, in a faint tone.
" I— I am afraid ! "

" Of "what? " I asked, endeavoring to control the passion-
ate vibrations of my voice and to speak unconcernedly.
" Because it is dark ? We shall have a light directly — you
will see — you — you," and to my own surprise I broke into a
loud and violent laugh. " You have no cause to be fright-
ened ! Come ! "

And I lifted her swiftly and easily over the stone step of
the entrance and set her safely inside. Inside at last, thank
Heaven ! I shut the great gate upon us both and locked it !
Again that strange undesired laugh broke from my lips in-
voluntarily, and the echoes of the charnel house responded
to it with unearthly and ghastly distinctness. Nina clung to
me in the dense gloom.

" Why do you laugh like that ? " she cried, loudly and im-
patiently. " It sounds horrible."

I checked myself by a strong effort.

" Does it ? I am sorry — very sorry ! I laugh because —
because, car a mia, our moonlight ramble is so pleasant —
and amusing — is it not ? "

And I caught her to my heart and kissed her roughly.

" Now," I whispered, "I will carry you — the steps are too
rough for your little feet — dearj dainty, white little feet ! I

21

32* VENDETTA!

will carry you, you armful of sweetness ! — yes, carry you
safely down into the fairy grotto where the jewels are — such
jewels, and all for you — my love, my wife ! "

And I raised her from the ground as though she were a
young, frail child. Whether she tried to resist me or not I
cannot now remember. I bore her down the moldering
stairway, setting my foot on each crooked step with the
firmness of one long familiar with the place. But my brain
reeled — rings of red fire circled in the darkness before my
eyes ; every artery in my body seemed strained to bursting ;
the pent-up agony and fury of my soul were such that I
thought I should go mad or drop down dead ere I gained
the end of my long desire. As I descended I felt her clinging
to me ; her hands were cold and clammy on my neck, as
though she were chilled to the blood with terror. At last I
reached the lowest step — I touched the floor of the vault. I
set my precious burden down. Releasing my clasp of her,
I remained for a moment inactive, breathing heavily. She
caught my arm — she spoke in a hoarse whisper.

" What place is this ? Where is the light you spoke
of?"

I made no answer. I moved from her side, and taking
matches from my pocket, I lighted up six large candles which
I had fixed in various corners of the vault the night pre-
viously. Dazzled by the glare after the intense darkness, she
did not at once perceive the nature of the place in which she
stood. I watched her, myself still wrapped in the heavy
cloak and hat that so effectually disguised my features.
What a sight she was in that abode of corruption ! Lovely,
delicate, and full of life, with the shine of her diamonds gleam-
ing from under the folds of rich fur that shrouded her, and
the dark hood falling back as though to display the sparkling
wonder of her gold hair.

Suddenly, and with a violent shock, she realized the gloom
of her surroundings — the yellow flare of the waxen torches
showed her the stone niches, the tattered palls, the decaying
trophies of armor, the drear shapes of worm-eaten coffins, and
with a shriek of horror she rushed to me where I stood, as
immovable as a statue clad in coat of mail, and throwing her
arms about me clung to me in a frenzy of fear.

" Take me away, take me away ! " she moaned, hiding her
face against my breast. " 'Tis a vault — oh, Santissima Ma-
donna ! — a place for the dead ! Quick — quick ! take me out
to the air — let us go home — home "

VENDETTA! 323

She broke off abruptly, her alarm increasing at my utter
silence. She gazed up at me with wild wet eyes.

" Cesare ! Cesare ! speak ! What ails you ? Why have
you brought me here ? Touch me — kiss me ! say something —
anything — only speak ! "

And her bosom heaved convulsively ; she sobbed with
terror.

I put her from me with a firm hand. I spoke in measured
accents, tinged with some contempt.

" Hush, I pray you ! This is no place for an hysterical
scena. Consider where you are ! You have guessed aright
— this is a vault — your own mausoleum, fair lady ! — if I mis-
take not — the burial-place of the Romani family."

At these words her sobs ceased, as though they had been
frozen in her throat ; she stared at me in speechless fear and
wonder.

" Here," I went on with methodical deliberation, " here lie
all the great ancestors of your husband's family, heroes and
martyrs in their day. Here will your own fair flesh molder.
Here," and my voice grew deeper and more resolute, " here,
six months ago, your husband himself, Fabio Romani, was
buried."

She uttered no sound, but gazed at me like some beautiful
pagan goddess turned to stone by the Furies. Having
spoken thus far I was silent, watching the effect of what I
had said, for I sought to torture the very nerves of her base
soul. At last her dry lips parted — her voice was hoarse and
indistinct.

" You must be mad ! " she said, with smothered anger and
horror in her tone.

Then seeing me still immovable, she advanced and caught
my hand half commandingly, half coaxingly. I did not re-
sist her.

" Come," she implored, " come away at once ! " and she
glanced about her with a shudder. " Let us leave this hor-
rible place ; as for the jewels, if you keep them here, they
may stay here ; I would not wear them for the world !
Come."

I interrupted her, holding her hand in a fierce grasp ; I
turned her abruptly toward a dark object lying on the ground
near us — my own coffin broken asunder. I drew her close
to it.

" Look ! " I said in a thrilling whisper, " what is this ?
Examine it well : it is a coffin of flimsiest wood, a cholera

324 VENDETTA!

coffin ! What says this painted inscription ? Nay, do not
start ! It bears your husband's name ; he was buried in it
Then how comes it to be open ? Where is he ? "

I felt her sway under me ; a new and overwhelming terror
had taken instant possession of her, her limbs refused to sup-
port her, she sunk on her knees. Mechanically and feebly
she repeated the words after me —

" Where is he ? Where is he 1 "

" Ay ! " and my voice rang out through the hollow vault,
its passion restrained no more. " Where is he ? — the poor
fool, the miserable, credulous dupe, whose treacherous wife
played the courtesan under his very roof, while he loved and
blindly trusted her ? Where is he ? Here, here ! " and I seized
her hands and forced her up from her kneeling posture. " I
promised you should see me as I am ! I swore to grow young
to-night for your sake ! — Now I keep my word ! Look at me,
Nina ! — look at me, my twice-wedded wife ! — Look at me ! —
do you not know your husband? "

And throwing my dark habiliments from me, I stood before
her undisguised ! As though some defacing disease had
swept over her at my words and look, so her beauty suddenly
vanished. Her face became drawn and pinched and almost
old — her lips turned blue, her eyes grew glazed, and strained
themselves from their sockets to stare at me ; her very hands
looked thin and ghost-like as she raised them upward with
a frantic appealing gesture ; there was a sort of gasping
rattle in her throat as she drew herself away from me with a
convulsive gesture of aversion, and crouched on the floor
as though she sought to sink through it and thus avoid my
gaze.

" Oh, no, no, no ! " she moaned, wildly, " not Fabio ! — no,
it cannot be — Fabio is dead — dead ! And you ! — you arc-
mad ! — this is some cruel jest of yours — some trick to frighten
me!"

She broke off breathlessly, and her large, terrified eyes
wandered to mine again with a reluctant and awful wonder.
She attempted to arise from her crouching position ; I ap-
proached, and assisted her to do so with ceremonious polite-
ness. She trembled violently at my touch, and slowly
staggering to her feet, she pushed back her hair from her
forehead and regarded me fixedly with a searching, anguished
look, first of doubt, then of dread, and lastly of convinced
and hopeless certainty, for she suddenly covered her eyes
with her hands as though to shut out some repulsive object.

VENDETTA ! 32$

and broke into a low wailing sound like that of one in bitter
physical pain. I laughed scornfully.

" Well, do you know me at last ? " I cried. " Tis true I
have somewhat altered. This hair of mine was black, if you
remember — it is white enough now, blanched by the horrors
of a living death such as you cannot imagine, but which,"
and I spoke more slowly and impressively, " you may pos-
sibly experience ere long. Yet in spite of this change I
think you know me ! That is well. I am glad your memory
serves you thus far ! "

A low sound that was half a sob and half a cry broke from
her.

" Oh, no, no ! " she muttered, again, incoherently — " it
cannot be! It must be false — it is some vile plot — it can-
not be true ! True ! Oh, Heaven ! it would be too cruel, too
horrible ! "

I strode up to her. I drew her hands away from her eyes
and grasped them tightly in my own.

" Hear me ! " I said, in clear, decisive tones. " I have
kept silence, God knows, with a long patience, but now —
now I can speak. Yes ! you thought me dead — you had
every reason to think so, you had every proof to believe so.
How happy my supposed death made you ! What a relief
it was to you ! — what an obstruction removed from your
path ! But — I was buried alive ! " She uttered a faint
shriek of terror, and looking wildly about her, strove to
wrench her hands from my clasp. I held them more closely.
" Ay, think of it, wife of mine ! — you to whom luxury has
been second nature, think of this poor body straightened in
a helpless swoon, packed and pressed into yonder coffin and
nailed up fast, shut out from the blessed light and air, as
one would have thought, forever ! Who could have dreamed
that life still lingered in me — life still strong enough to split
asunder the boards that inclosed me, and leave them
shattered, as you see them now ! "

She shuddered and glanced with aversion toward the
broken coffin, and again tried to loosen her hands from
mine. She looked at me with a burning anger in her face.

" Let me go ! " she panted. " Madman ! liar ! — let me
go ! "

I released her instantly and stood erect, regarding her
fixedly.

" I am no madman," I said, composedly ; " and you know
as well as I do that I speak the truth. When I escaped

326 VENDETTA!

from that coffin I found myself a prisoner in this very vault
— this house of my perished ancestry, where, if old legends
could be believed, the very bones that are stored up here
would start and recoil from your presence as pollution to the
dead, whose creed was honor"

The sound of her sobbing breath ceased suddenly ; she
fixed her eyes on mine ; they glittered defiantly.

" For one long awful night," I resumed, " I suffered here.
I might have starved — or perished of thirst. I thought no
agony could surpass what I endured ! But I was mistaken :
there was a sharper torment in store for me. I discovered
a way of escape ; with grateful tears I thanked God for my
rescue, for liberty, for life ! Oh, what a fool was I ! How
could I dream that my death was so desired ! — how could I
know that I had better far have died than have returned to
such a home ! "

Her lips moved, but she uttered no word ; she shivered
as though with intense cold. I drew nearer to her.

" Perhaps you doubt my story ? "

She made no answer. A rapid impulse of fury possessed
me.

" Speak ! " I cried, fiercely, " or by the God above us I will
make you ! Speak ! " and I drew the dagger I carried from
my vest. " Speak the truth for once — 'twill be difficult to
you who love lies — but this time I must be answered ! Tell
me, do you know me ? Do you or do you not believe that I
am indeed your husband — your living husband, Fabio
Romani ? "

She gasped for breath. The sight of my infuriated figure
— the glitter of the naked steel before her eyes — the sudden-
ness of my action, the horror of her position, all terrified her
into speech. She flung herself down before me in an attitude
of abject entreaty. She found her voice at last.

" Mercy ! mercy ! '* she cried. " Oh, God ! you will not
kill me ? Anything — anything but death ; I am too young to
die ! Yes, yes ; I know you are Fabio — Fabio, my husband,
Fabio, whom I thought dead — Fabio — oh ! " and she sobbed
convulsively. " You said you loved me to-day — when you
married me ! Why did you marry me ? I was your wife
already — why — why ? Oh, horrible, horrible ! I see — I
understand it all now ! But do not, do not kill me, Fabio — I
am afraid to die ! "

And she hid her face at my feet and groveled there. As
quickly calmed as I had been suddenly furious, I put back

VENDETTA I 327

the dagger. I smoothed my voice and spoke with mocking
courtesy.

" Pray do not alarm yourself," I said, coolly. " I have
not the slightest intention of killing you ! I am no vulgar
murderer, yielding to mere brute instincts. You forget : a
Neapolitan has hot passions, but he also has finesse, especially
in matters of vengeance. I brought you here to tell you of
my existence, and to confront you with the proofs of it.
Rise, I beg of you, we have plenty of time to talk ; with a
little patience I shall make things clear to you — rise ! "

She obeyed me, lifting herself up reluctantly with a long,
shuddering sigh. As she stoodjupright I laughed contemptu-
ously.

" What ! no love words for me ? " I cried, " not one kiss,
not one smile, not one word of welcome ? You say you know
me — well ! — are you not glad to see your husband ? — you, who
were such an inconsolable widow ? "

A strange quiver passed over her face — she wrung her
hands together hard, but she said no word.

" Listen ! " I said, " there is more to tell. When I broke
loose from the grasp of death, when I came home — I found my
vacant post already occupied. I arrived in time to witness a
very pretty pastoral play. The scene was the ilex avenue—
the actors, you, my wife, and Guido, my friend ! "

She raised her head and uttered a low exclamation of fear.
I advanced a step or two and spoke more rapidly.

" You hear ? There was moonlight, and the song of night-
ingales— yes ; the stage effects were perfect ! / watched the
progress of the comedy — with what emotions you may im-
agine. I learned much that was news to me. I became
aware that for a lady of your large heart and sensitive feelings
<me husband was not sufficient " — here I laid my hand on her
shoulder and gazed into her face, while her eyes, dilated with
terror, stared hopelessly up to mine — " and that within three
little months of your marriage to me you provided yourself
with another. Nay, no denial can serve you ! Guido Ferrari
was husband to you in all things but the name. I mastered
the situation — I rose to the emergency. Trick for trick,
comedy for comedy ! You know the rest. As the Count
Oliva you can not deny that I acted well ! For the second
time I courted you, but not half so eagerly as you courted
me! For the second time I have married you! Who shall
deny that you are most thoroughly mine — mine, body and
soul, till death do us part ! "

328 VENDETTA t

And I loosened my grasp of her : she writhed from me like
some glittering wounded serpent. The tears had dried on her
cheeks, her features were rigid and wax-like as the features
of a corpse ; only her dark eyes shone, and these seemed pre-
ternaturally large, and gleamed with an evil luster. I moved
a little away, and turning my own coffin on its side, I sat down
upon it as indifferently as though it were an easy-chair in a
drawing-room. Glancing at her then, I saw a wavering light
upon her face. Some idea had entered into her mind. She
moved gradually from the wall where she leaned, watching
me fearfully as she did so. I made no attempt to stir from
the seat I occupied.

Slowly, slowly, still keeping her eyes on me, she glided step
by step onward and passed me — then with a sudden rush she
reached the stairway and bounded up it with the startled
haste of a hunted deer. I smiled to myself. I heard her
shaking the iron gateway to and fro with all her feeble
strength ; she called aloud for help several times. Only the
sullen echoes of the vault answered her, and the wild whistle
of the wind as it surged through the trees of the cemetery.
At last she screamed furiously, as a savage cat might scream
—the rustle of her silken robes came swiftly sweeping down
the steps, and with a spring like that of a young tigress she
jonfronted me, the blood now burning wrathfully in her face,
and transforming it back to something of its old beauty.

" Unlock that door ! " she cried, with a furious stamp of
her foot. " Assassin ! traitor ! I hate you ! I always hated
you ! Unlock the door, I tell you ! You dare not disobey
me ; you have no right to murder me ! "

I looked at her coldly ; the torrent of her words was sud-
denly checked, something in my expression daunted her;
she trembled and shrunk back.

" No right ! " I said, mockingly. " I differ from you ! A
man once married has some right over his wife, but a man
twice married to the same woman has surely gained a double
authority ! And as for * dare not I ' there is nothing I * dare
not ' do to-night."

And with that I rose and approached her. A torrent of
passionate indignation boiled in my veins ; I seized her two
white arms and held her fast.

•" You talk of murder ! " I muttered, fiercely. " You — you
who have remorselessly murdered two men ! Their blood be
on your head ! For though I live, I am but the moving corpse
of the man I was — hope, faith, happiness, peace— all things

VENDETTA! 329

good and great in me have been slain by you. And as for
&uido "

She interrupted me with a wild sobbing cry.

" He loved me ! Guido loved me ! "

"Ay, he loved you, oh, devil in the shape of a woman ! he
loved you ! Come here, here ! " and in a fury I could not
restrain I dragged her, almost lifted her along to one corner
of the vault, where the light of the torches scarcely illumined
the darkness, and there I pointed upward. " Above our
very heads — to the left of where we stand — the brave strong
body of your lover lies, festering slowly in the wet mould,
thanks to you ! — the fair, gallant beauty of it all marred by
the red-mouthed worms — the thick curls of hair combed
through by the crawling feet of vile insects — the poor frail
heart pierced by a gaping wound "

" You killed him ; you — you are to blame," she moaned,
restlessly, striving to turn her face away from me.

"/killed him? No, no, not I, but you I He died when
he learned your treachery — when he knew you were false to
him for the sake of wedding a supposed wealthy stranger —
my pistol-shot but put him out of torment. You ! you were
glad of his death — as glad as when you thought of mine !
You talk of murder ! Oh, vilest among women ! if I could
murder you twenty times over, what then ? Your sins out-
weigh all punishment ! "

And I flung her from me with a gesture of contempt and
loathing. This time my words had struck home. She cow-
ered before me in horror — her sables wrere loosened and
scarcely protected her, the richness of her ball costume was
fully displayed, and the diamonds on her bosom heaved
restlessly up and down as she panted with excitement, rage
and fear.

" I do not see," she muttered, sullenly, " why you should
blame me ! I am no worse than other women ! "

" No worse ! no worse ! " I cried. " Shame, shame upon
you that thus outrage your sex ! Learn for once what men
think of unfaithful wives — for maybe you are ignorant. The
novels you have read in your luxurious, idle hours have per-
haps told you that infidelity is no sin — merely a little social
error easily condoned, or set right by the divorce court.
Yes ! modern books and modern plays teach you so : in them
the world swerves upside down, and vice looks like virtue.
But /will tell you what may seem to you a strange and won-
derful thing ! There is no mean animal, no loathsome object,

330 VENDETTA !

no horrible deformity of nature so utterly repulsive to a true
nun as a faithless wife ! The cowardly murderer who lies in
wait for his victim behind some dark door, and stabs him in
the back as he passes by unarmed — he, I say, is more to be
pardoned than the woman who takes a husband's name,
honor, position, and reputation among his fellows, and shel-
tering herself with these, passes her beauty promiscuously
about like some coarse article of commerce, that goes to the
highest bidder ! Ay, let your French novels and books of
their type say what they will — infidelity is a crime, a low,
brutal crime, as bad if not worse than murder, and deserves
as stern a sentence ! "

A sudden spirit of defiant insolence possessed her. She
drew herself erect, and her level brows knitted in a dark frown.

" Sentence ! " she exclaimed, imperiously. " How dare
you judge me ! What harm have I done ? If I am beauti-
ful, is that my fault ? If men are fools, can /help it ? You
loved me — Guido loved me — could / prevent it ? I cared
nothing for him, and less for you ! "

" I know it," I said, bitterly. " Love was never part of
your nature ! Our lives were but cups of wine for your false
lips to drain ; once the flavor pleased you, but now — now,
think you not the dregs taste somewhat cold ? "

She shrunk at my glance — her head drooped, and drawing
near a projecting stone in the wall, she sat down upon it,
pressing one hand to her heart.

" No heart, no conscience, no memory ! " I cried. " Great
Heaven ! that such a thing should live and call itself woman !
The lowest beast of the field has more compassion for its
kind ! Listen : before Guido died he knew me, even as my
child, neglected by you, in her last agony knew her father.
She being innocent, passed in peace ; but he ! — imagine if
you can, the wrenching torture in which he perished, knowing
all ! How his parted spirit must curse you ! "

She raised her hands to her head and pushed away the light
curls from her brow. There was a starving, hunted, almost
furious look in her eyes, but she fixed them steadily on me.

" See," I went on — " here are more proofs of the truth of
my story. These things were buried with me," and I threw
into her lap as she sat before me the locket and chain, the
card-case and purse she herself had given me. " You will no
doubt recognize them. This " — and I showed her the monk's
crucifix — " this was laid on my breast in the coffin. It may
be useful to you — you can pray to it presently ! "

VENDETTA! 331

She interrupted me with a gesture of her hand ; she spoke
as though in a dream.

" You escaped from this vault ? " she said, in a low tone,
looking from right to left with searching eagerness. " Tell
me how — and — where ? "

I laughed scornfully, guessing her thoughts.

" It matters little," I replied. " The passage I discovered
is now closed and fast cemented. I have seen to that my-
self ! No other living creature left here can escape as I did.
Escape is impossible."

A stifled cry broke from her ; she threw herself at my feet,
letting the things I had given her as proofs of my existence
fall heedlessly on the floor.

" Fabio ! Fabio ! " she cried, " save me, pity me ! Take
me out to the light — the air — let me live \ Drag me through
Naples — let all the crowd see me dishonored, brand me with
the worst of names, make of me a common outcast — only let
me feel the warm life throbbing in my veins ! I will do any-
thing, say anything, be anything — only let me live ! I loath
the cold and darkness — the horrible — horrible ways of
death ! " She shuddered violently and clung to me afresh.
" I am so young ! and after all, am I so vile ? There are
women who count their lovers by the score, and yet they are
not blamed ; why should I suffer more than they ? "

" Why, why ? " I echoed, fiercely. " Because for once a
husband takes the law into his own hands — for once a wronged
man insists on justice — for once he dares to punish the treach-
ery that blackens his honor ! Were there more like me there
would be fewer like you ! A score of lovers ! 'Tis not your
fault that you had but one ! I have something else to say
which concerns you. Not content with fooling two men, you
tried the same amusement on a supposed third. Ay, you
wince at that ! While you thought me to be the Count Oliva
— while you were betrothed to me in that character, you wrote
to Guido Ferrari in Rome. Very charming letters ! here they
are," and I flung them down to her. " I have no further use
for them — I have read them all ! "

She let them lie where they fell ; she still crouched at my
feet, and her restless movements loosened her cloak so far
that it hung back from her shoulders, showing the jewels that
flashed on her white neck and arms like points of living light.
I touched the circlet of diamonds in her hair — I snatched it
from her.

" These are mine ! " I cried, " as much as this signet J

332 VENDETTA I

wear, which was your love-gift to Guido Ferrari, and which
you afterward returned to me, its rightful owner. These are
my mother's gems — how dared you wear them ? The stones
/gave you are your only fitting ornaments — they are stolen
goods, filched by the blood-stained hands of the blackest
brigand in Sicily ! I promised you more like them ; behold-
them ! " — and I threw open the coffin-shaped chest contain-
ing the remainder of Carmelo Neri's spoils. It occupied a
conspicuous position near where I stood, and I had myself
arranged its interior so that the gold ornaments and precious
stones should be the first things to meet her eyes. " You see
now," I went on, '* where the wealth of the supposed Count
Oliva came from. I found this treasure hidden here on the
night of my burial — little did I think then what dire need I
should have for its usage ! It has served me well ; it is not
yet exhausted ; the remainder is at your service 1 "

CHAPTER XXXVII.

AT these words she rose from her knees and stood upright.
Making an effort to fasten her cloak with her trembling hands,
she moved hesitatingly toward the brigand's coffin and leaned
over it, looking in with a faint light of hope as well as curiosity
in her haggard face. I watched her in vague wonderment —
she had grown old so suddenly. The peach-like bloom and
delicacy of her flesh had altogether disappeared — her skin
appeared drawn and dry as though parched in tropical heat.
Her hair was disordered, and fell about her in clustering
showers of gold — that, and her eyes, were the only signs of
youth about her. A sudden wave of compassion swept over
my soul.

" Oh wife ! " I exclaimed — " wife that I so ardently loved
— wife that I would have died for indeed, had you bade
me ! — why did you betray me ? I thought you truth itself —
ay ! and if you had but waited for one day after you thought
me dead, and then chosen Guido for your lover, I tell you,
so large was my tenderness, I would have pardoned you !
Though risen from the grave, I would have gone away and
made no sign — yes ; if you had waited — if you had wept for
me ever so little ! But when your own lips confessed your
crime — when I knew that within three months of our mar-
riage-day you had fooled me — when I learned that my love,

VENDETTA! 333

my name, my position, my honor, were used as mere screens
to shelter your intrigue with the man I called friend ! — God !
what creature of mortal flesh and blood could forgive such
treachery ? I am no more than others — but I loved you —
and in proportion to my love, so is the greatness of my
wrongs ! "

She listened — she advanced a little toward me — a faint
smile dawned on her pallid lips — she whispered :

"Fabio! Fabio ! "

I looked at her — unconsciously my voice dropped into a
cadence of intense melancholy softened by tenderness.

" Ay — Fabio ! What wouldst thou with a ghost of him ?
Does it not seem strange to thee — that hated name ? — thou,
Nina, whom I loved as few men love women — thou whogavest
me no love at all — thou, who hast broken my heart and
made me what I am ! "

A hard, heavy sob rose in my throat and choked my utter-
ance. I was young ; and the cruel waste and destruction of
my life seemed at that moment more than I could bear.
She heard me, and the smile brightened more warmly on
her countenance. She came close to me — half timidly yet
coaxingly she threw one arm about my neck — her bosom
heaved quickly.

" Fabio," she murmured — " Fabio, forgive rne ! I spoke
in haste — I do not hate thee ! Come ! I will make amends
for all thy suffering — I will love thee — I will be true to thee,
I will be all thine ! See ! thou knowest I have not lost my
beauty ! "

And she clung to me with passion, raising her lips to mine,
while with her large inquiring eyes she searched my face for
the reply to her words. I gazed down upon her with sorrow-
ful sternness.

" Beauty ? Mere food for worms — I care not for it ! Of
what avail is a fair body tenanted by a fiendish soul ? For-
giveness ? — you ask too late ! A wrong like mine can never
be forgiven."

There ensued a silence. She still embraced me, but her
eyes roved over me as though she searched for some lost
thing. The wind tore furiously among the branches of the
cypresses outside, and screamed through the small holes and
crannies of the stone-work, rattling the iron gate at the sum-
mit of the stairway with a clanking sound, as though the
famous brigand chief had escaped with all his chains' upon
him, and were clamoring for admittance to recover his buried

334 VENDETTA!

property. Suddenly her face lightened with an expression
of cunning intensity — and before I could preceive her intent
— with swift agility she snatched from my vest the dagger I
carried !

" Too late ! ' she cried, with a wild laugh. " No ; not too
late ! Die— wretch ! "

For one second the bright steel flashed in the wavering
light as she poised it in act to strike — the next, I had caught
her murderous hand and forced it down, and was struggling
with her for the mastery of the weapon. She held it with a
desperate grip — she fought with me breathlessly, clinging to me
with all her force — she reminded me of that ravenous unclean
bird with which I had had so fierce a combat on the night of
my living burial. For some brief moments she was possessed
of supernatural strength — she sprung and tore at my clothes,
keeping the poniard fast in her clutch. At last I thrust her
down, panting and exhausted, with fury flashing in her eyes
— I wrenched the steel from her hand and brandished it above
her.

" Who talks of murder now ? " I cried, in bitter derision.
" Oh, what a joy you have lost ! What triumph for you,
could you have stabbed me to the heart and left me here
dead indeed ! What a new career of lies would have been
yours ! How sweetly you would have said your prayers with
the stain of my blood upon your soul ! Ay ! you would have
fooled the world to the end, and died in the odor of sanctity
And you dared to ask my forgiveness "

I stopped short — a strange, bewildered expression suddenly
passed over her face — she looked about her in a dazed, vague
way — then her gaze became suddenly fixed, and she pointed
toward a dark corner and shuddered.

" Hush — hush ! " she said, in a low, terrified whisper.
" Look ! how still he stands ! how pale he seems ! Do not
speak — do not move — hush ! he must not hear your voice —

I will go to him and tell him all — all " She rose and

stretched out her arms with a gesture of entreaty :

"Guido! Guido!"

With a sudden chilled awe at my heart I looked toward
the spot that thus riveted her attention — all was shrouded in
deep gloom. She caught my arm.

" Kill him ! " she whispered, fiercely — " kill him, and
then I will love you ! Ah ! " and with an exclamation of
fear she began to retire swiftly backward as though confront
ed by some threatening figure. " He is coming — nearer 1

VENDETTA! 335

No, no, Guido ! You shall not touch me — you dare not — •
Fabio is dead and I am free — free ! " She paused — her wild
eyes gazed upward — did she see some horror there ? She
put up both hands as though to shield herself from some im-
pending blow, and uttering a loud cry she fell prone on the
stone floor insensible. Or dead ? I balanced this question
indifferently, as I looked down upon her inanimate form.
The flavor of vengeance was hot in my mouth, and filled me
with delirious satisfaction. True, I had been glad, when my
bullet whizzing sharply through the air had carried death to
Guido, but my gladness had been mingled with ruthfulness
and regret. Now, not one throb of pity stirred me — not the
faintest emotion of tenderness. Ferrari's sin was great, but
she tempted him — her crime outweighed his. And now —
there she lay white and silent — in a swoon that was like
death — that might be death for aught I knew — or cared!
Had her lover's ghost indeed appeared before the eyes of
her guilty conscience ? I did not doubt it — I should scarcely
have been startled had I seen the poor pale shadow of him
by my side, as I musingly gazed upon the fair fallen body
of the traitress who had wantonly wrecked both our lives.

" Ay, Guido," I muttered, half aloud—" dost see the
jrork ? Thou art avenged, frail spirit — avenged as well as I
—part thou in peace from earth and its inhabitants ! — haply
thou shalt cleanse in pure fire the sins of thy lower nature,
and win a final pardon ; but for her — is hell itself black
enough to match her soul ? "

And I slowly moved toward the stairway ; it was time, I
thought, with a grim resolve — to leave her / Possibly she was
dead — if not — why then she soon would be! I paused ir-
resolute— the wild wind battered ceaselessly at the iron gate-
way, and wailed as though with a hundred voices of aerial
creatures, lamenting. The torches were burning low, the
darkness of the vault deepened. Its gloom concerned me
little — I had grown familiar with its unsightly things, its
crawling spiders, its strange uncouth beetles, the clusters of
blue fungi on its damp walls. The scurrying noises made
by bats and owls, who, scared by the lighted candles, were
hiding themselves in holes and corners of refuge, startled
me not at all — I was well accustomed to such sounds. In
my then state of mind, an emperor's palace were less fair to
me than this brave charnel house — this stone-mouthed wit-
ness of my struggle back to life and all life's misery. The
deep-toned bell outside the cemetery struck One / We had

336

been absent nearly two hours from the brilliant assemblage
left at the hotel. No doubt we were being searched for
everywhere — it mattered not ! they would not come to seek
us here. I went on resolutely toward the stair — as I placed
my foot on the firm step of the ascent, my wife stirred from
her recumbent position — her swoon had passed. She did not
perceive me where I stood, ready to depart — she murmured
something to herself in a low voice, and taking in her hand
the falling tresses of her own hair she seemed to admire its
color and texture, for she stroked it and restroked it and
finally broke into a gay laugh — a laugh so out of all keeping
with her surroundings, that it startled me more than her at-
tempt to murder me.

She presently stood up with all her own lily-like grace
and fairy majesty; and smiling as though she were a pleased
child, she began to arrange her disordered dress with elab-
orate care. I paused wonderingly and watched her. She
went to the brigand's chest of treasure and proceeded to ex-
amine its contents — laces, silver and gold embroideries, an-
tique ornaments, she took carefully in her hands, seeming
mentally to calculate their cost and value. Jewels that were
set as necklaces, bracelets and other trinkets of feminine
wear she put on, one after the other, till her neck and arms
were loaded — and literally blazed with the myriad scintilla-
tions of different-colored gems. I marveled at her strange
conduct, but did not as yet guess its meaning. I moved
away from the staircase and drew imperceptibly nearer to
her — Hark ! what was that ? A strange, low rumbling like
a distant earthquake, followed by a sharp cracking sound ;
I stopped to listen attentively. A furious gust of wind
rushed round the mausoleum shrieking wildly like some
devil in anger, and the strong draught flying through the
gateway extinguished two of the flaring candles. My wife,
entirely absorbed in counting over Carmelo Neri's treasures,
apparently saw and heard nothing. Suddenly she broke into
another laugh — a chuckling, mirthless laugh such as might
come from the lips of the aged and senile. The sound
curdled the blood in my veins — it was the laugh of a mad-
woman ! With an earnest, distinct voice I called to her :

"Nina! Nina!"

She turned toward me still smiling — her eyes were bright,
her face had regained its habitual color, and as she stood in
the dim light, with her rieh tresses falling about her, and the
clustering gems massed together in a glittering fire against

VENDETTA !

337

her white skin, she looked unnaturally, wildly beautiful.
She nodded to me, half graciously, half haughtily, but gave
me no answer. Moved with quick pity I called again :

" Nina ! "

She laughed again — the same terrible laugh.

*' SI, si f Sen' bella, son' bellissima ! " she murmured.
" E iu, Guido mio ? Tu m'ami ? "

Then raising one hand as though commanding attention,
she cried :

" Ascolta / " and began to sing clearly though feebly :

" Ti saluto, Rosignuolo !
Net tuo duolo — ti saluto !
Sei Famante della rosa
Che morendo si/a sposa ! w

As the old familiar melody echoed through the dreary
vault, my bitter wrath against her partially lessened ; with
the swiftness of my southern temperament a certain compas-
sion stirred my soul. She was no longer quite the same
woman who had wronged and betrayed me — she had the
helplessness and fearful innocence of madness — in that con-
dition I could not have hurt a hair of her head. I stepped
hastily forward — I resolved to take her out of the vault —
after all I would not leave her thus — but as I approached,
she withdrew from me, and with an angry stamp of her foot
motioned me backward, while a dark frown knitted her fair
brows.

" Who are you ? " she cried, imperiously. " You are dead,
quite dead ! How dare you come out of your grave ! "

And she stared at me defiantly — then suddenly clasping
her hands as though in ecstasy, and seeming to address some
invisible being at her side, she said, in low, delighted tones :

" He is dead, Guido ! Are you not glad ? " She paused,
apparently expecting some reply, for she looked about her

wonderingly, and continued " You did not answer me —

are you afraid ? Why are you so pale and stern ? Have
you just come back from Rome ? What have you heard ?

That I am false ? — oh, no ! I will love you still Ah ! I

forgot ! you also are dead, Guido ! I remember now — you
cannot hurt me any more — I am free — and quite happy ! "

Smiling, she continued her song :

* Ti saluto, Sol di Maggio
Col two raggio ti saluto I
Sei ? Apollo del passato
S*i r amore incoronatot*

338 VENDETTA I

Again — again ! — that hollow rumbling and crackling sound
overhead. What could it be ?

" L'amore incoronato ! " hummed Nina fitfully, as she
plunged her round, jeweled arm down again into the chest
of treasure. " S\, s\ / Che morendo si fa sposa — che morendo
si fa sposa — ah ! "

This last was an exclamation of pleasure ; she had found
some toy that charmed her — it was the old mirror set in its
frame of pearls. The possession of this object seemed to fill
her with extraordinary joy, and she evidently retained no con-
sciousness of where she was, for she sat down on the up-
turned coffin, which had held my living body, with absolute
indifference. Still singing softly to herself, she gazed lov-
ingly at her own reflection, and fingered the jewels she wore,
arranging and rearranging them in various patterns with one
hand, while in the other she raised the looking-glass in the
flare of the candles which lighted up its quaint setting. A
strange and awful picture she made there — gazing with such
lingering tenderness on the portrait of her own beauty —
while surrounded by the moldering coffins that silently an-
nounced how little such beauty was worth — playing with
jewels, the foolish trinkets of life, in the abode of skeletons,
where the password is death ! Thinking thus, I gazed at
her, as one might gaze at a dead body — not loathingly any
more, but only mournfully. My vengeance was satiated.
I could not wage war against this vacantly smiling mad
creature, out of whom the spirit of a devilish intelligence
and cunning had been torn, and who therefore was no longer
the same woman. Her loss of wit should compensate for
my loss of love. I determined to try and attract her atten<
tion again. I opened my lips to speak — but before the
words could form themselves, that odd rumbling noise again
broke on my ears — this time with a loud reverberation that
rolled overhead like the thunder of artillery. Before I could
imagine the reason of it — before I could advance one step
toward my wife, who still sat on the upturned coffin, smiling
at herself in the mirror — before I could utter a word or move
an inch, a tremendous crash resounded through the vault,
followed by a stinging shower of stones, dust, and pulverized
mortar ! I stepped backward amazed, bewildered — speech-
less— instinctively shutting my eyes — when I opened them
again all was darkness — all was silence ! Only the wind
howled outside more frantically than ever — a sweeping gust
whirled through the vault, blowing some dead leaves against

VENDETTA ! 339

my face, and I heard the boughs of trees creaking noisily in
the fury of the storm. Hush ! — was that a faint moan ? Quiv-
ering in every limb, and sick with a nameless dread, I sought
in my pocket for matches — I found them. Then with an
effort, mastering the shuddering revulsion of my nerves, I
struck a light. The flame was so dim that for an instant I
could see nothing. I called loudly :

" Nina ! " There was no answer.

One of the extinguished candles was near me ; I lighted
it with trembling hands and held it aloft — then I uttered a
wild shriek of horror ! Oh, God of inexorable justice, surely
Thy vengeance was greater than mine ! An enormous block
of stone, dislodged by the violence of the storm, had fallen
from the roof of the vault ; fallen sheer down over the very
place where she had sat a minute or two before, fantastically
smiling ! Crushed under the huge mass — crushed into the
very splinters of my own empty coffin, she lay — and yet —
and yet — I could see nothing, save one white hand protrud-
ing— the hand on which the marriage-ring glittered mock-
ingly ! Even as I looked, that hand quivered violently — beat
the ground — and then — was still ! It was horrible. In
dreams I see that quivering white hand now, the jewels on
it sparkling with derisive luster. It appeals, it calls, it threat-
ens, it prays ! and when my time comes to die, it will beckon
me to my grave ! A portion of her costly dress was visible —
my eyes lighted on this — and I saw a slow stream of blood
oozing thickly from beneath the stone — the ponderous stone
that no man could have moved an inch — the stone that sealed
her awful sepulcher ! Great Heaven ! how fast the crimson
stream of life trickled ! — staining the snowy lace of her gar-
ment with a dark and dreadful hue ! Staggering feebly like
a drunken man — half delirious with anguish — I approached
and touched that small white hand that lay stiffly on the
ground — I bent my head — I almost kissed it, but some
strange revulsion rose in my soul and forbade the act !

In a stupor of dull agony I sought and found the crucifix
of the monk Cipriano that had fallen to the floor — I closed
the yet warm finger-tips around it and left it thus ; an un-
natural, terrible calmness froze the excitement of my strained
nerves.

" 'Tis all I can do for thee ! " I muttered, incoherently.
" May Christ forgive thee, though I cannot ! "

And covering my eyes to shut out the sight before me I
turned away. I hurried in a sort of frenzy toward the stair*

340 VENDETTA /

way — on reaching the lowest step I extinguished the torch I
carried. Some impulse made me glance back — and I saw
what I see now — what I shall always see till I die ! An aper-
ture had been made through the roof of the vault by the fall
of the great stone, and through this the fitful moon poured
down a long ghostly ray. The green glimmer, like a spectral
lamp, deepened the surrounding darkness, only showing up
with fell distinctness one object — that slender protruding
wrist and hand, whiter than Alpine snow ! I gazed at it
wildly — the gleam of the jewels down there hurt my eyes—
the shine of the silver crucifix clasped in those little waxen
fingers dazzled my brain — and with a frantic cry of unreason-
ing terror, I rushed up the steps with a maniac speed-
opened the iron gate through which she would pass no more,
and stood at liberty in the free air, face to face with a wind
as tempestuous as my own passions. With what furious
haste I shut the entrance to the vault ! with what fierce pre-
caution I locked and doubled-locked it ! Nay, so little did
I realize that she was actually dead, that I caught myself
saying aloud — " Safe — safe at last ! She cannot escape — I
have closed the secret passage — no one will hear her cries —
she will struggle a little, but it will soon be over — she will
never laugh any more — never kiss — never love — never tell
lies for the fooling of men ! — she is buried as I was — buried
alive ! "

Muttering thus to myself with a sort of sobbing incoher-
ence, I turned to meet the snarl of the savage blast of the
night, with my brain reeling, my limbs weak and trembling
— with the heavens and earth rocking before me like a wild
sea — with the flying moon staring aghast through the driv-
ing clouds — with all the universe, as it were, in a broken and
shapeless chaos about me ; even so I went forth to meet my
fate — and left her !

*******

Unrecognized, untracked, I departed from Naples. Wrapped
in my cloak, and stretched in a sort of heavy stupor on the
deck of the " Rondinella," my appearance apparently ex-
cited no suspicion in the mind of the skipper, old Antonio
Bardi, with whom my friend Andrea had made terms for my
voyage, little aware of the real identity of the passenger he
recommended.

The morning was radiantly beautiful — the sparkling waves
rose high on tiptoe to kiss the still boisterous wind — the sun-
light broke in a wide smile of springtide glory over th<?

VENDETTA f 341

world ! With the burden of my agony upon me — with the
utter exhaustion of my overwrought nerves, I beheld all
things as in a feverish dream — the laughing light, the azure
ripple of waters — the receding line of my native shores —
everything was blurred, indistinct, and unreal to me, though
my soul, Argus-eyed, incessantly peered down, down into
those darksome depths where she lay, silent forever. For
now I knew she was dead. Fate had killed her — not I. All
unrepentant as she was, triumphing in her treachery to the
last, even in her madness, still I would have saved her, though
she strove to murder me.

Yet it was well the stone had fallen — who knows! — if she
had lived — I strove not to think of her, and drawing the key
of the vault from my pocket, I let it drop with a sudden
splash into the waves. All was over — no one pursued me —
no one inquired whither I went. I arrived at Civita Vecchia
unquestioned; from thence I travelled to Leghorn, where I
embarked on board a merchant trading vessel bound for
South America. Thus I lost myself to the world ; thus I be-
came, as it were, buried alive for the second time. I am
safely sepulchered in these wild woods, and I seek no escape.

Wearing the guise of a rough settler, one who works in com-
mon with others, hewing down tough parasites and poisonous
undergrowths in order to effect a clearing through these path-
less solitudes, none can trace in the strong stern man, with
the care-worn face and white hair, any resemblance to the
once popular and wealthy Count Oliva, whose disappearance,
so strange and sudden, was for a time the talk of all Italy.
For, on one occasion when visiting the nearest town, I saw
an article in a newspaper, headed " Mysterious Occurrence in
Naples," and I read every word of it with a sensation of dull
amusement.

From it I learned that the Count Oliva was advertised for.
His abrupt departure, together with that of his newly married
wife, formerly Contessa Romani, on the very night of their
wedding, had created the utmost excitement in the city.
The landlord of the hotel where he stayed was prosecuting
inquiries — so was the count's former valet, one Vincenzo
Flamma. Any information would be gratefully received by
the police authorities. If within twelve months no news were
obtained, the iuimense properties of the Romani family, in
default of existing kindred, would be handed over to the
crown.

There was much more to the same effect, and I read it with

342 VENDETTA !

the utmost indifference. Why do they not search the Romani
vault ? — I thought gloomily — they would find some authentic
information there ! But I know the Neapolitans well ; they
are timorous and superstitious ; they would as soon hug a pes-
tilence as explore a charnel house. One thing gladdened me ;
it was the projected disposal of my fortune. The crown, the
Kingdom of Italy, was surely as noble an heir as a man could
have ! I returned to my woodland hut with a strange peace
on my soul.

As I told you at first, I am a dead man — the world, with its
busy life and aims, has naught to do with me. The tall trees,
the birds, the whispering grasses are my friends and my com-
panions— they, and they only, are sometimes the silent wit-
nesses of the torturing fits of agony that every now and then
overwhelm me with bitterness. For I suffer always. That is
natural. Revenge is sweet ! — but who shall paint the horrors
of memory ? My vengeance now recoils upon my own head.
I do not complain of this — it is the law of compensation — it is
just. I blame no one — save Her, the woman who wrought my
wrong. Dead as she is I do not forgive her ; I have tried to,
but I cannot ! Do men ever truly forgive the women who
ruin their lives ? I doubt it. As for me, I feel that the end is
not yet — that when my soul is released from its earthly
prison, I shall still be doomed in some drear dim way to
pursue her treacherous flitting spirit over the black chasms of
a hell darker than Dante's — she in the likeness of a wander-
ing flame — I as her haunting shadow ; she, flying before me
in coward fear — I, hasting after her in relentless wrath — and
this forever and ever !

But I ask no pity — I need none. I punished the guilty,
and in doing so suffered more than they — that is as it must
always be. I have no regret and no remorse ; only one thing
troubles me — one little thing — a mere foolish fancy ! It
comes upon me in the night, when the large-faced moon looks
at me from heaven. For the moon is grand in this climate ;
she is like a golden-robed empress of all the worlds as she
sweeps in lustrous magnificence through the dense violet
skies. I shut out her radiance as much as I can ; I close the
blind at the narrow window of my solitary forest cabin ; and yet
do what I will, one wide ray creeps in always — one ray that
eludes all my efforts to expel it. Under the door it comes,
or through some unguessed cranny in the wood-work. I have
in vain tried to find the place of its entrance.

The color of the moonlight in this climate is of a mellovy

VENDETTA! 343

amber — so I cannot understand why that pallid ray that
visits me so often, should be green — a livid, cold, watery
green ; and in it, like a lily in an emerald pool, I see a little
white hand on which the jewels cluster thick like drops of
dew ! The hand moves — it lifts itself — the small fingers
point at me threateningly — they quiver — and then — they
beckon me slowly, solemnly, commandingly onward ! — on-
ward ! — to some infinite land of awful mysteries where Light
and Love shall dawn for me no more

THE END.

Tin;

1 49 1 1

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