CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY Cornell University Library PR 5249.R9L8 1853 Lorenzo Benoni, or Passages in the life o 3 1924 013 541 580 Cornell University Library The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013541580 LORENZO BENONI OR PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF AN ITALIAN EDITED BY A FEIEND. RED FIELD 34 BEEKMAN STREET, NEW YORK Third Edition.] 1 8 t> 7 CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. Early Education, Prospects, Pursuits, Drawbacks, and Travelling Adven- tures FAQE 7 CHAPTER H. Introduces the Dramatis Personse, and records the Violent Death of a Sparrow 20 CHAPTER in. The Prince carries the Day, but I spoil his Triumph 28 CHAPTER IV. Deep Schemes, and a Queer Lecturer 35 CHAPTER V. Wherein the late Second Prize is Cured of his Pretensions to Poetry ... 41 CHAPTER VI. Describes a Boxing-Match, and a Rise in Public Prospects soon followed by a Fall in Mine 49 CHAPTER VII. Thanks to a Fellow-Prisoner, I am roused from Utter Despair to the most Sanguine Anticipations 57 CHAPTER VIH. Explosion — A Lesson to Tyrants 66 CHAPTER IX. A Republican Government established, and a Roman Triumph exhibited 74 CONTENTS. CHAPTER X. Gives a Sketch of Don Silvestro, and shows how Little Causes can pro- duce Great Effects page 81 CHAPTER Xr. Some H^ew Characters introduced — The First Division rebels, and car- ries its Point 88 CHAPTER XII. The Tables turned — Damon and Pythias — Triumphal Exit from School 97 CHAPTER XIII. Absurd Notions and Timely Checks — I pursue my Studies at the Semi- nary, and light upon an Old Foe 104 CHAPTER XIV. Religious Enthusiasm — Projects of Martyrdom adjourned — Things come to a Crisis with my Big Persecutor 114 CHAPTER XV. My Brother Csesar steps in and takes the Lead — Freaks and Fancies. . 124 CHAPTER XVL The University — My World of Fancy crumbles before Sad Realities. . 185 CHAPTER XVH. How I got acquainted with Fantasio, and both of us with the Director of the Police — Sudden Crisis in Cffisar's Affairs, and his Illness. . . 144 CHAPTER XVIH. Unexpected Visitation, and Awkward Dilemma — My Father is very angry, and bids Me bestir Myself 155 CHAPTER XIX. Injustice and Oppression beget the Spirit of Revolt — Uncle John preaches to the Winds leY CHAPTER XX. An Old Friend in a Sad Plight — Tender Solicitude of the Carabineers lest the Citizens should catch Cold 177 CHAPTER XXL The State of Piedmont, previous to the Grant of a Constitution, hinted at in an Aneodotical Way 184 CONTENTS. 6 CHAPTER XXII. Tantalizing Discovery, and Hot Chase to no Purpose — The Valley of San Secondo page 191 CHAPTER XXIII. Initiation, Bright Dreams, Misgivings, High-wrought Anticipations, and Final Disappointment 203 CHAPTER XXIV. Intoxicating Effects of a Letter — The Invisible Goddess becomes Visi- ble — Blissful Meeting 215 CHAPTER XXV. New Riddle — Discovery — 1830 — Two Doctors added to the Stock — Dark Cloud between my Sun and me 227 CHAPTER XXVI. Why I make up my Mind to break with Lilla, and how I fail in the Attempt — My Confidence in her is shaken 238 CHAPTER XXVII. Vantasios Imprisonment — Our Helplessness- ind Despair — Narrow Escape 248 CHAPTER XXVIII. The Casaccia Rupture — The Letters Returned — Lilla becomes outra- geous 260 CHAPTER XXIX. Introduces the Reader to a Queer Market, a Fussy Little Man, and a Letter from Fantasio 272 CHAPTER XXX. We enter into Fantasio's Views, and set to Work accordingly — Rise and Progress of the New Association 283. CHAPTER XXXL I anticipate an Evening of Quiet Enjoyment, and meet with Nothing but Vexation — and what comes of it 291 CHAPTER XXXII. Much to Hope, much to Fear — Sudden Alarm — Deceitful Calm — Ca- tastrophe 802 6 COSTENTS. CHAPTER XXXIII. Narrow Escape — I am prevailed upon to look to my Safety. . . . page 817 CHAPTER XXXIV. After being tried in more Ways than One, the Fugitive embarks for the Coast of France 326 CHAPTER XXXV. The Fugitive 838 CHAPTER XXXVI. The Fugitive — continued 347 CHAPTER XXXVII. The Fugitive — continued 854 CHAPTER XXXVIII. The Fugitive — continued 864 CHAPTER XXXIX. Conclnsion of the Voyage and of the Tale 878 LORENZO BENONI CHAPTER I. EARLY EDUCATION, PROSPECTS, PURSUITS, DRAWBACKS, AND TRAVELLING ADVENTURES. Every day, as surely as the day came, when, the clock struck eleven, my uncle, the canon, invariably said mass, at which I invariably officiated as his assistant. This ceremony had long lost the attraction of novelty, having been repeated daily for two whole years ; and as, besides, my uncle's mass was very long, it is needless to say that I went through it with a feeling of intense ennui. So, when, at a certain moment, after having helped the priest to the wine and water, it was my duty to replace the sacred vials behind a curtain on the left of the altar, I never failed, by way of relief, to take, under cover of that same curtain, a long pull at the vial of wine. This was only for the fun, as wine was not with me a favorite beverage. Mass over, while my uncle laid aside his robes, and returned thanks in the vestry, I regularly went to the postoffice to fetch his letters, which I as regularly placed upon his table-napkin; for, by the time that I got home, it was nearly twelve o'clock, our dinner hour, and the table was laid. 8 LORKNZO BENONI. My uncle, my father's eldest brother, lived in a small country town, about half-way between Genoa and Nice, where he managed, but indifferently well, my mother's estates, consisting chiefly of olive plantations. I do not know the motives which induced my father, who resided in Genoa (my mother I do not mention, because she was not allowed a deliberative voice in any matter whatever), to send his first-born, as soon as he attained the age of seven years, to the little country town above mentioned, there to commence his education under the direction qf the aforesaid uncle the canon. All I know is, that this precedent had been strictly adhered to with my second brother Caesar, and with myself the third born, who, each in our turn, had been disposed of in the same way, that is, sent to be fashioned in manners, and initiated in the rudi- ments of the Latin tongue, under the shade of our maternal olive-trees ; thence to pass to the Koyal college* of Genoa, which was the second and unavoidable stage of our progress in life. My uncle was a weak-minded, rather good than bad sort of man, about sixty, who spent one half of the year in expecting wonders from the approaching crop, and the other half in bewailing the failure of his hopes" — thus for ever oscillating between the two extremes of unbounded expectation and utter despair. My uncle had only one distinct idea in his brain — olives; only one interest in life — olives; only one topic of discussion, either at home or abroad — olives. Olives of every size and description — salted olives, dried olives, pickled olives — encumbered the table at dinner and supper, and no dish was served without the seasoning of olives. All my uncle's walks, in which I was regularly ordered to accompany him, had for their sole object to observe the appearance of the olives on the trees, and to watch their progress ; and, at a certain period of the year, we literally trod on olives, which were strewed a foot deep on the floor of our large hall. The very air we breathed was impregnated with olive emanations. * Let it here,onee for all, be noted, that the term college on the Continent oori^esponds to that of public school, not to that of college, in this eountry, which in Italy is called university. MY UNCLK THB CANON. 9 The rare intervals in wliich olives were let alone, were em- ployed by my uncle in abusing France and Frenchmen. This was a sort of secondary hobby with him. What France or the French had done to the old canon I do not know, but I well remember a certain anecdote on the subject, which he would repeat over and over again, with ever-renewed mirth, and no little pride. Being once in the vicinity of the Var, where this river separates the Sardinian states from France, he had crossed the bridge, gone over to the French side, bit his thumb at France, and come back triumphant. Let France get out of it as she can ! My uncle, as I said, was good rather than bad. Unfortu- nately Margherita, his old housekeeper, who led him 'completely by the nose, was bad, rather than good. This lady eyed me in the light of an intruder in /;«• house," and treated me accord- ingly. She grudged me every crumb of bread I ate ; she it was who used to help me at table, and she managed it so nicely, that though my plate appeared tolerably well furnished, still I could scarcely make out of its contents wherewithal to satisfy the moderate cravings of an appetite far from voracious. The regular meals once over, Margherita would lock up so strictly all the remnants, that the most accurate search through- out the house could not have brought about the discovery of eatables sufficient to treat a mouse with. Really, I felt at times so hyngry, that I could almost have eaten the soles of my shoes. Margherita was not to be moved by argument or entreaty, and any appeal to my uncle made the matter worse, inasmuch as it drew upon me an indefinite number of smart boxes on the ear from the worthy lady — a summary proceed- ing, which seemed to afford her a good deal of gratification, and in which she indulged much oftener than was necessary, considering the-little, puny, sickly, quiet creature that I was, with anything, God knows, but exuberant life about me. A tall, lanky, sallow-faced, half-starved young abbe, used to come every day after dinner to initiate me into the mysteries of the Latin language, at the rate of threepence an hour. Threepenny Latin can not be expected to be first rate, Avhieh will account for my master's teaching me to decline honus, I* 10 LOKENZO BENONI. lonius, comparative hmiior, superlative . bonissimus. What struck me most in this worthy gentleman was a mysterious complaint of the stomach under which he labored, attacks of which would seize him every day, just at the very moment when my uncle shut the house-door as he went out to walk. The poor man suffered excruciating pains, which could only he alleviated by repeated applications to a certain huge green wine bottle which stood in a corner of the pantry, wine being the only article of consumption which, owing to my not liking it, was not kept under lock and key. That wine should act as a specific against stomach complaints, was singular enough ; but what was still more so was, that whenever my uncle hap- pened to stay at home during the lesson, my worthy friend would have no attack at all, but, by way of compensation, would grow so ill-tempered that he found fault with everything I did or said. Such was the circle in which I had been revolving for two whole years, and in which, according to a decree from head- quarters, I was to revolve for twelve months longer, when one of our neighbors, a widower of seventy-four, took it into his head to marry — an event which, among other effects, had the most unexpected one of working a change in my prospects. It was and still is a custom in these parts that any widower entering afresh into the holy state of matrimony, should gratuitously enjoy the treat of a serenade of marrow- bones and cleavers. On the close of the wedding day, toward dusk, just as we were sitting down to supper, we were stiartled by a fast approaching sound of drums, fifes, and tambourines, which drew us to the window. It was indeed a grand sight ! The main street, over which we looked, and where the unlucky, couple lived but three doors from us, swarmed with people. Bands of villagers, three abreast, poured in processionally, some brandishing lighted pines, stuck upon poles, some bearing mallow plants as big as trees (a gentle hint to the bridegroom to moderate his juvenile ardor). In the centre of the pro- cession there was a car, drawn by four donkeys, in which sat majestically two enormous pigs, over which a mallow shrub, of such gigantic dimensions that it reached abovo the first A BEIDEGEOOM OF SKVENTY FOUR SEKENADED. 11 story of the houses, formed a verdant canopy. Then followed a dense throng of men, women, and children, provided with fifes, horns, drums, pans, tongs, shovels — everything, in short, fit to make a noise. The car stopped exactly under the windows of the happy spouse, and, upon a signal from the leader of this multifarious orchestra, the men began to shout, the women to scream, .he asses to bray, the pigs to squeak, the drums to beat, the pans to rattle ; in short, a concert arose, loud enough not only to rend the ears of the living, but to rouse the dead from their jlumbers. I enjoyed the sport exceedingly, the only drawback being that I could not go and mix in the crowd, and be one of I party of urchins whom I admired very much, and whose jccupation it was to shake and drag along big iron chains. But my uncle, who was a particular friend of the object of the serenade, was quite of another mind. He strongly disapproved of the proceedings, said it was a shame, and gave the strictest directions that on the morrow (the ceremony was to be repeated three days running) all our windows should be hermetically closed, and that nobody should stir. The morrow came, and with it the serenade, and I was tantalized beyond expression : still I kept quiet. But on the third and last day the temptation became too strong, and I was not proof against it. A little before supper time I managed to slip off unper- ceived, and elbow my way through the crowd to the band of children whom I had envied so much two evenings before. The end of a chain was offered me, and I fell to work con amore. While in the full enjoyment of this occupation, Mar- gherita made a dart at me, seized me by the collar, and dragged me home. My uncle sat in state, his table-napkin round his neck. That the son of my father, and the nephew of my uncle, said he, should disgrace himself so far as to join in such a scandalous proceeding, and mix with such a rabble, was more than he could stand, and deserved an exemplary punishment. I was forthwith sentenced to carcere duro, that is, to imprisonment in a low dark cell, once intended for a pantry, which adjoined 12 LORENZO BENONr. the dining-room ; and, for the time being, I was sent to ted without my supper. Next morning Margherita came to me betimes, bade me get up, and saw me to my dungeon, from which I was not released till bedtime, when she accompanied me to my bedroom where I was to sleep. Day followed day — a week elapsed, and no change in my prospects. I was indeed sick at heart. The cravings of hunger, which I constantly felt, owing to an insuflScient allowance of soup and bread, ^were painful enough, but still supportable. The fits of terror that seized upon me toward dusk, when darkness thickened in my hole, and there was nobody at home, fits of terror originating in strange mysterious sounds going on around me, were a hard trial indeed, but one which only lasted for a time. What never did cease, what passed all my powers of endurance, what made me miserable beyond conception, was a still, heavy, poignant, everlasting sense of ennui, that gnawed at my very heart's core, and ate me away inch by inch. To sit there the whole day alone, with no lesson, no abbe, no book, no converse with anybody — what an inexpressible torture ! The very noises which frightened me so much, at times were welcome, and proved a relief. The pressure of fear at least excluded for a time that of ennui. And yet I had only a word to say to be free ; but I would not say it. In the partition that divided my prison from the dining;room there was a small grated window, through which I could hear every word that was spoken on the other side. And more than once I had heard the canon broadly hint, during dinner-time, that pardon should be granted provided it were asked. But I was too highly exasperated at the treat- ment I received to bring myself to ask forgiveness, and my uncle's hints dropped all unheeded. My thoughts were bent another way ; plans of escape to Genoa were confusedly forming in my head. One night I went even as far as the house door, and had my hand on the latch, but my heart failed me. It was so dark without ! One day — it was the eleventh of my captivity — after a long |)arley in whispers between Margherita and my uncle, I I FLY FEOM BONDAGE. 13 lieard the latter say aloud, " These are very fine anchovies, and I have a mind to send some to that poor boy ; I know he likes them." My heart dilated with pleasure, not so much at the prospect of the anchovies, as at the promising change of disposition which this unhoped-for boon bespoke. Presently Marglierita unfastened the door of my cell, came toward me, and put before me a plate full of — fish bones ! It was a cruel joke ! I said nothing, but inwardly I swore that I would be off on the morrow — shame on me if I were not. And sure enough, oif I went. I sat up all night dressed, and at break of day stole quietly out, and took the road to Genoa. We were in the month of September, and very fine weather it was. I walked briskly on, frequently stopping to rest. At noon it grew very- hot, and I had a good long nap in a field by the roadside. Many were the passengers who seemed to know me, and asked where I was going all alone — a question which I constantly answered by naming a place where my uncle was wont to visit often, and where, I said, he had sent me on an errand. Provisions I had none, nor money where- with to buy any, but I ate plentifully of excellent grapes, which were no sooner asked than they were given to me, by the obliging villagers, whom I happened to see in the vine- yards. Toward evening, I entered a small town, where I had been before, and where I knew that a new church was being built ; so I went straight to the church, laid myself down between two large stones, said my prayers, and fell asleep. The sun was high when I awoke and resumed my journey. I had pains in my limbs, my feet were sore and swoHen, and I began to entertain serious misgivings as to the possibility of reaching my destination on foot. However, I trudged on as well as I could, and soon came to a small white house, half concealed by trees, which I was in the very act of pass- ing, when, what was my bewilderment at hearing a well- known voice above my head, say most distinctly, " There he is at last !" I looked up, and saw at one of the windows the grinning faces of the canon and Margherita, who, having suddenly lost all trace of me the day before, owing to their 14 LOEENZO BENONI. having unwittingly got a-head of me during one of ray resting halts, had put up at this roadside inn, by Tvliich I must per- force pass, and whence they kept a strict watch upon the road. The rest may be easily guessed — a few hours thereafter I was once more in that odious home which I had hoped never to see .again. My uncle and Margherita ridiculed me much on my attempt at flight ; they called me ever afterward " the Kunaway," or " the Deserter," and all visiters were requested to do the same. My escape was fraught with no consequences more serious than this ; but the canon, who had already informed my father of my shameful behavior in the affair of the sere- nade, now wrote again to tell at full length of this new escapade, giving me into the bargain such a character for a self-willed, unruly, stubborn, ungovernable boy, that my father saw the necessity of breaking down, without loss of time, this rebellious spirit, and made up his mind to send me at once to school. A few days after the events I have just related, I brought home a letter in my father's well-known hand, upon the perusal of which my uncle chose to assume the most solemn air. He frowned several times, took some turns up and down the little dining-room, then stopping in front of me, and staring me full in the face, said, in his most impressive manner, " De- serter, your father calls you back to Genoa, you are going to enter school." The prospect of a school life was far from pleasant to me ; but the life I was actually leading was so miserable and dull, that anything like change was welcome ; besides, the convic- tion that I must go to college was one coeval in my mind with the first glimpse of reason, and formed, as it were, a part of my being. So I took the matter more coolly than my uncle had probably expected, merely saying, that I was ready to do whatever my father wished. Now, none of all this might have happened, had not our neighbor the widower taken it into his head to marry again ! The preparations for my journey took but little time or trouble. My whole wardrobe consisted of half a dozen shirts, EETDKN TO GENOA. 15 as many pairs of stockings, a pair of trousers, cut out of one of my uncle's old cassocks, and tlie suit of fustian I had on. So a bundle was quickly made, wliich I could easily cai-ry under my arm, and my departure was fixed for the second day fol- lowing — a Tuesday, at seven in the morning. My uncle recommended me to a friend of his, a gentleman who was going to Genoa on business, and who promised to take care of me. On the morning of departure, the old priest gave me a dollar, with strict injunctions not to spend it ; a small pot of preserved olives, which I was to eat with my bread ; finally, his blessing, and away we went. The motion of the carriage, a vetturino, which was very slow, and to which I was unaccustomed, at first amused me, but made me soon uneasy — very uneasy indeed. The gentle- man who had the care of me, and who sat opposite, asked me several times whether I felt sick, to which, I know not why, I as often answered that I did not; but the truth was, that I did feel dreadfully sick — to such a degree, indeed, that things soon came to a crisis, which proved fatal to my friend opposite. This circumstance had the effect of altering, in no small degree, his feelings toward me ; for, after giving me heartily to the deuce, he took no more notice of me than if I had still been in my uncle's dining-room. So that, when after eight and forty hours of shaking, and being sick and hungry and miserable, we at last arrived at Genoa, and I got out of the coach, I found myself standing alone,' and helpless enough, in the middle of the piazza of the Annunziata, with my bundle under my arm, and a great inclination to burst into tears. I was not yet quite nine years of age. Though very young when I left Genoa, my local recollec- tions were vivid enough to have enabled me to find my way home, had I been put down in any central spot ; but from this out of the- way place, the task, I felt, was utterly hopeless. So I determined to ask my way, and seeing at a little distance a group of gentlemen, with whips in their hands, and short black pipes in their mouths, I went up to them, and collecting all my courage, asked whether they could tell me where Mr. Benoni (my father) lived. My question seemed to cause a 16 i.oei;n2o benoni. good deal of mirtli among the company, which having sub- sided, one of them, a tall black-whiskered fellow, with a black silk cap, and glazed hat over it, asked me if I had any money. I said, " Yes, a dollar." — " Well,~my little fellow, give it to me, and I will take you to Mr. What-is-his-name." I was so anxious to get home, that I struck the bargain at once, and gave him the dollar. Upon which my new friend bade me just wait till he came back, and away he went with the rest of the company. I was very tired, and looking about me, descried, opposite to where I stood, a wooden bench, near a baker's shop, so thither I went, sat down, and waited. I waited so long that at last" I began to suspect that the man and the dollar were both lost, and that I was the victim of a knavish trick, a discovery little calculated to raise my de- pressed spirits. At last, an elderly buxom lady, apparently owner of the shop, asked me what I was waiting for so long. I told her my story. " Ah, poor child," said she, " you have been most shamefully imposed upon ; but who ever thought of sending such a little lamb alone on a journey ! Come now, try and recollect, and make me understand where your papa's house is." I mentioned San Giorgio's church, which I knew to be close by. "That is a long way off," said she; "and when you see the church," she further inquired, " are you sure you can find your way home ?" I answered in the affirmative. The good stout lady having whistled twice, a half-naked boy came to her summons from the mysterious recesses of the shop, and she bade him accompany me to the church I had mentioned, and take care of me till I found my father's door. I thanked the kind lady as well as I could, and followed my guide. In about half an hour we reached the church, from which I had no difficulty in finding my way home. By the time I got there I was so weary and dispirited, that I scarcely dared to pull the bell. I wondered whether they would admit me, or turn me away as an impostor. Admit me, however, they did ; and no words can express the relief it was to feel myself once more pressed in my mother's arms, and to burst into a passionate fit of tears on her bosom. THE ROYAL COLLKGK. 17 My mother's warm caresses and tender care soon dispelled that morbid feeling of loneliness and depression so unnatural in a child, under ■which I had labored more or less for two years, and so acutely for this last eight and forty hours. It was so new to me, and so delightful to be loved, to be taken care of, to be something to somebody ! But alas ! this sunshine was of too short duration. Five days after my arrival, my college uniform having been made and brought home, I was warned by my father, who had been very cold and distant with me, to get ready for the next morning, it being his intention that I should enter college on that day. So next morning I got into my new breeches of blue cloth, and dress-coat of the same material, with gilt buttons bearing the words " Royal college ;" put on my cocked hat, and after a rather hasty but showery leave-taking of my mother and brothers, with a heavy heart I followed my father, who was growing impatient. An hour thereafter I had passed the fatal gate, and stood in the presence of an old priest, whose* hand I was directed to kiss, and who, after patting me on the head, delivered me over to another less aged priest, who took me through several intricate passages, the last of which was very long and wide, to a room where he in his turn committed me to a third priest, who asked my name, wrote it down in a book, and then handed me a quire of paper and a pen. The room in which I stood was furnished with five long rows of large and handsome desks, with wooden forms in front for seats. The desks were separated into distinct compart- ments, each of which constituted one place. One of these was assigned to me, and there I sat, stared at by eighteen boys, and staring at them in my turn. "We will turn to account this pause, to take a glance at the internal organization of the community, such as it existed in the year 1818, at which epoch I became one of its mem- bers. There were in the Royal college at that time about a hun- dred pupils, varying from seven to fifteen years of age, separ- ated into five divisions of about twenty each, classed according 18 LOEENZO BENONI. to age and height, so as to avoid disparity of appearance, and lastly, according to proficiency in study. Each division formed an independent whole, possessing its own superintendent, its own school-room, its own play-ground, its own dormitory. Only at church, and in the refectory, did the whole community meet, but even there without ming- ling, each division having its own separate seats, its own sep- arate table. The Koyal college was under the direction of the Keverend Somaschi Fathers, one of the monastic orders devoted by their institution to the education of youth, and was governed ac- cording to the following hierarchy : — A Father Eettore — sovereign power, without control or appeal — czar and pope in one. A Father Vice-Eettore — locum tenens oi the first in case of absence or illness. A Father Ministro — the real executive power, everywhere present, and meddling with everything. Last of all, the Prefetti, or superintendents. A prefetto was placed over each division, and never left it night or day. At table, in the school-room, at church, in the play-ground, the inevitable prefetto was ever there, ever everywhere. During the night, from his bed, placed at the upper end of the dormi- tory, he copimanded the whole room at a glance, and watched that silence and order should not be broken. I must add, that the irksome and enslaving duties of pre- fetto were so ill remunerated, that none but a starveling of the lowest order of priesthood would have accepted the position. They were generally men without cultivation or instruction of any kind, and- pretty well justified our school expression, that their tonsure was taken as a ticket of exemption from the plough or the conscription. Of this establishment I was an inmate for five long years, of which God forbid that it should be my intention to give any detailed account. The first two may be thus summed up — much misery of mind and body, chilblains, blows, an angry ugly face requiring some impossible task, and frown- ing and scolding to my infinite terror, and a lovely, sweet WE SLIP OVER FOUE YEARS. 19 face smiling on me every Thursday (the day for visiters), and, to my infinite comfort, whispering words of tenderness and of encouragement. As easily and summarily may the next two years be disposed of, by saying that matters went on mending slowly, but stead- ily ; that the tasks given me bacame by degrees less impossi- ble, then easy enough, then very easy — that I made a friend, and grew, in course of time, into a person of some consequence in our little community. The fifth and last year alone remains, on which I beg leave to expatiate a little more at length. The various incidents connected with this stage of my school life will afford me an opportunity of giving a general idea of the system of education then pursued in Piedmont, and may perhaps prove of some interest to those at least of my readers who have preserved in mature years that most precious gift — the faculty of occa- sionally becoming once more children, and feeling as such for a little while. 20 LOEKNZO BENONI. CHAPTER II. INTRODUCES THE DRAMATIS PERSONjE, AND RECORDS THE FIG- LENT DEATH OF A SPARROW. Four years have elapsed, and the little urchin of the pre- ceding chapter is now grown up into a boy of thirteen — thin, pale, and rather tall of his age, who holds a perfectly honora- ble, and rather important, but somewhat uncomfortable posi- tion, in the second division, of which he forms a part. Sad was the state of things in this division, and hard the lot, and complicated the misery, of most of its members ; owing partly to the misrule of a brute of a prefetto, on whom we will expend a word or two hereafter, but chiefly to a system of cruelty, spoliation, and oppression, triumphantly carried on by a small minority of four, who lorded it over, trampled upon, and treated like negroes, seventeen of their fellow-pupils, the immense majority of the set. How, when, and by what means, this abominable tyranny had been established, I can not say. All I can say is, that I found it in full play when I first entered the second division, and that it worked on with a vengeance. We shall endeavor to give some idea of it, and briefly sketch the four little rascals who were for the time being our lords and masters. Anastasius — such was the name of our chief tyrant — was a dwarfish, ugly, crooked little fellow, with a disproportion- ately big head, a flat nose, and wide mouth, bearing a family likeness to a tiger-cat — truly, a youthful Quilp. How this being — devoid of all superiority, physical or moral, insolent in prosperity, cowardly in danger, and whose marked charac- teristics were unlimited rapacity and cold, sneering cruelty — A GALAXY OF DESPOTS. 21 ever came to exercise such immense ascendency over all around him, is still a mystery to me. But the fact was, that he did possess this inexplicable power, and to such a degree, that the very sound of his voice, most slightly elevated, would make the boldest tremble. "When, even now, after the lapse of thirty years, I think of the blasting wretchedness with which this evil genius poisoned our youthful years — when I recollect the many sleepless nights and bitter tears he cost us — my breast swells, and my hand trembles with indignation as I write ! I will mention one trait, which appears to me to be characteristic of his na- ture. At the time of which I write, a great event occupied the attention of the whole of Europe — I mean the heroic efforts of a handful of Greeks a-gainst mussulman oppression. Vague accounts of this struggle had penetrated even to our school, and I need hardly add that a universal feeling of warm sym- pathy was roused among us for the Greek and Christian cause. Anastasius alone of our set, and, I believe, of the whole school, wished well to the Turks, and called the Greeks rebels. A couple of boys, remarkably tall, strong, and stupid, the two Hercules of the division, formed his body-guard, and acted as his merciless executioners. They it was who levied his ex- actions — of which a goodly share came to themselves — and maintained the strictest subordination, by dint of felling with a blow of the fist, or, worse still, cruelly lashing with good whip-cord, any unlucky wight who might give the slightest symptoms of resistance. But, strongly as these two representatives of brute force supported the dominion of Anastasius, they were neither the only, nor perhaps the most essential prop, of his power. It derived its principal strength from the avowed countenance and moral sanction of one of the most. influential personages of the division, the fourth individual in this little galaxy of despots. Handsome, rich, and generous, with a title and an historical name — two circumstances that never fail to impress to a cer- 22 LOEENZO BKKONI. tain degree the youthful imagination — the young Prince d'Ur- bino was possessed of all that is best calculated to seduce and carry along the multitude. The cringing partiality of the superiors, and the insinuations of flatterers, who are no less plen- tiful at school than in the world, had ended by spoiling a naturally good disposition, and had impressed him with a be- lief that his title placed him far above his plebeian compan- ions, and gave him a right to command them. The prince, I must own, used sparingly the power which, in fact, he shared with Anastasius, and by which -he only profited occasionally, for the indulgence of some little personal revenge, for he was very vindictive. But even then he adroitly managed to keep his colleague in the foreground, so that the odium fell chiefly on the latter. This sort of Machiavelian policy, and the habit of occasionally blaming pretty freely the doings of Anastasius in reference to his exactions, in the fruits of which the prince was too rich and proud to share, diverted the general resent- ment from himself. He had, besides, when he chose, winning ways of his own, which, in spite of all, preserved for him a certain degree of popularity. Besides these four individuals, conspicuous for their baneful influence, myself, and a dear friend of mine — the only two representatives of a latent opposition — the rest of our set was made up of youths insignificant by nature, of whom it might be said more truly than Pope says of the fair sex, " Most schoolboys have no character at all" — grumbling from time to time when they were ill used, but letting things take their course. I have too often spoken of exactions not to enter into some details respecting their nature, and the mode in which they were levied. The first I shall mention was of daily recur- rence. A large slice of bread was all that the foundation allowed for our breakfast ; but any one who chose to do so, was permitted to buy with his pocket-money whatever addi- tion he pleased to the meal, an indulgence of which few failed to take the benefit. Well, as regularly as breakfast-time came, lo and behold ! Anastasius, followed by his two blood- hounds, coolly went his rounds, and seized, with all the gi-avity A YODKG riSISTKATL'S. 23 of a tithe-collector, out of the good things spread hetbre his eyes — such as butter, figs, peaches, sausages — a share more than sufficient to satisfy his own greediness and that of his worthy acolytes. This done, the three would go, and, sitting down quietly at their own desks, gorge themselves at our ex- pense. Such is the force of hahit, that this revolting spoliation was effected without raising the least remonstrance, and came to be looked upon by many as a lawful tax rightfully levied. Some of the most mean-spirited would even voluntarily bring and offer the best of what they had. Again : at dinner and supper, whenever a favorite dish of the tyrant's came on table, we were under the necessity of making up for him and his satellites, from off our plates, a por- tion ten times as large as our own. Wo to us, I well remem- ber, whenever we had rice-pudding or strawberries, two dishes that pleased Anastasius's delicate taste ! It was also required of every boy, whose friends came to see him in the parlor, or who went home on a holyday, to declare what good thing he had brought back with him, two thirds of which went legally to the exchequer. If this decla- ratiop was not made, or the least evasion attempted, the cul- prit was instantly searched, the whole of the smuggled cargo was confiscated, and a good thrashing administered to the offender. A,gain : whenever there was a pic-nic or a pleasure-trip, tow- ard which every one was to contribute, we were obliged to pay for Anastasius and his bull-dogs, and lucky enough we thought ourselves when they condescended to receive our offering with a good grace. Besides, we had to do for Anastasius and his body-guard all their tasks, themes, versions, &c., a work that, in fact, usually devolved upon me. These were the regularly-established, and, so to speak, lawful exactions. As for those which I may term contingent or accidental, they were as numerous as the objects which might chance to excite the insatiable covetousness of Anasta- sius. If any one possessed a book, a penknife, a ball, domi- noes, or marbles, v,'hich happened to take the tyrant's fancy, 24 LORENZO BENONI. it was first hinted to the proprietor that such a present v.ould he acceptable, and if the hint was not speedily complied with, his desk was broken open, and the thjng in question disap- peared. I hare already said that the opposition was represented in our microscopic community by myself and a dear friend of mine, Alfred. It is time that the reader should become fur- ther acquainted with two personages who play so important a part in our tale. At thirteen, I was already more gi-ave and thoughtful than most boys of that age. This disposition, scarcely natural in one so young, arose from an extreme and somewhat morbid sensitiveness, which early brought me acquainted with suffer- ing. The slightest thing affected me deeply : a failure in my class, a harsh word from a professor, a quarrel with a school- fellow, would cause me a passionate flood of tears and violent palpitations of the heart, and deprive me of sleep and appe- tite. The consciousness of this morbidly-sensitive disposition rendered me a peaceful being, rather indolent, carefully avoid- ing noise and bustle, and loving quiet above all things. It was for the sake of this dear quiet that I strove to repress the rush of indignant hatred which rose in my young heart at sight of the wrongs and cruelties it was so often my hard lot to witness. To engage in a struggle against Anastasius and Co., were to throw myself into a bottomless sea of trouble and care, and bid adieu to everything like tranquillity : better let things take their course, and keep quiet. This I felt and told myself twenty times a day, yet twenty times a day something within me would revolt against such a selfish conclusion, and urge me on to action. This something was a strong spirit continually wounded by what I saw, and a somewhat roman- tic and adventurous turn of mind, which the reading of some books of chivalry, that had for me an unspeakable attraction. Lad of late not a little developed. To make myself the re- dresser of the wrongs of the whole class — to raise the op- pressed, to punish the tyrant — what an enticing prospect for an imagination of thirteen, full to the brim of the high deeds of Einald'o, Euggiero, Orlando, and the whole fraternity of ALFEKD AND HIS SPAEEOW. 25 knights-efrant ! This, indeed, tliought I, would be a noble paxt, a part worthy of me ! And so, torn between conflicting impulses, I was in a state of painful suspense, when a circumstance arose that ended all irresolution. I have mentioned Alfred, a dear friend of mine. He was one of those gentle and tender beings who live chiefly in their aifections, and, too weak to rely upon themselves, need the stay of a friendly arm. This support Alfred had found in me. When he first entered school, two years before, his compan- ions of the third division, in which I then was, had not been sparing of the tricks and annoyances which, according to a traditional custom as old as the college itself, awaited all new- comers. The poor child took this seasoning so much to heart, that he cried and sobbed till he made himself seriously ill. The forlorn helplessness of the little fellow touched me with pity ; so I took him under my protection, sheltered by which he had continued to live unmolested ever since. From that moment dated the passionate and exclusive attachment, amount- ing almost to worship, which he bore me, and which never failed me in all our after-life. He was a tender and devoted friend, and I loved him with true brotherly affection. Well, then, Alfred happened to possess a tame sparrow. He had trained the little creature to perform a variety of tricks, and was passionately fond of his favorite. Anastasius one day took a whim to send and ask him for the bird. Alfred gave a flat refusal. The next day he found his desk, in which, since the alarm given by the fancy of Anastasius, he had locked up the poor bird, forced open, and the innocent little sparrow lying dead, and bearing evident marks of a vio- lent end. Imagine Alfred's despair ! he sobbed, he raved, he tore his hair. Indignation swelled within me, and at last broke forth. I took a high tone, and publicly taxed Anastasius with the fact. The feeling of general reprobation at this infamous act of re- venge was such, that Anastasius quailed before the accusa- tion, and denied all participation in the deed. He averred and protested his innocence, and, to all appearance, the mat- 2 26 LOEENZO BEKOM. ter ended there. But the catastrophe had cut short many perplexities in my mind. From that moment I felt that such a state of things was not to be endured, and vowed internally to put an end to it. "©f course, to accomplish this immediately was entirely out of the c[uestion. I had no auxiliary but Alfred, and Alfred and I, do what we would, were no match for Anastasius & Oo. There were, it is true, some choice spirits of the first di- vision, intimate friends of mine, and personal enemies of Anas- tasius, who had urged me more than once to put him down, and on whom I knew I could rely ; but their assistance could be but temporary, and this was not sufficient. It became in- dispensable, for the attainment of my object, to win over to my views, and rally round me, a certain number of my own set — an enterprise full of difficulty, but which I was sanguine of achieving, by throwing into the scale the weight of my name and of my personal inilnence. For, however distressing to my modesty, the duty of a vera- cious historian compels me to say that my name was an au- thority among my fellows. The first in all classes that I fre- quented, I had united, in my humble person, at the very time I allude to, the three medals of honor — for eloquence, poetry, and geometry, a thing perhaps unprecedented in the college. This brought me high respect and consideration, not only from my peers in my own division, but from the whole community. The professors were lavish of their praise, and pointed me out to the rest as a bright example ; especially the professor of poetry, who, in the simplicity of his heart, saw in me, to use his classical expression, the future restorer of the Italian Par- nassus ! The superiors of the college also, proud of a pupil ■who did honor to the establishment, treated me with a degree of regard' shown to few. Besides, the assistance I readily and easily gave my com- rades in helping them through the difficulties of their tasks, rendered me highly popular. It was constantly, " Lorenzo, do correct this" — "Lorenzo, just look over that, there's a good fellow ;" by doing which, willingly and good-naturedly, I not only saved my companions from reproach and punishment, but GROUNDS FOE SELF-EELIANCE. 27 often earned them compliments and rewards. All these things considered, I hope it may not seem presumptuous to say that I entertained a certain degree of confidence in the influence of my example, and the authority of my name. '«- Alfred, of course, was the confidant of my projects, or rathei ' the passionate admirer of the deep plans inspired hy my ge nius. He already, in his enthusiasm, would call me Salvatm PatricB. To him I intrusted the delicate commission of sound ing two of our companions, whom I thought worth the trial i tut Alfred returned very downcast. His overtures had been received with marked and almost insulting coldness. "Never mind, we will do without those shabby fellows," said I. " A little patience, Alfred, and never fear but I will find a way." I did not very well know, in truth, what the way was to be. The only thing I was quite clear about was, a firm determfnation to seize the first opportunity of a quarrel with Anastasius or the prince, to break publicly with either of them, and so stand forth at once as head of an opposition party. " If my example rouses no one to join me," thought I, " why theirs is an iron sleep indeed, from which no trumpet can awake them." I strengthened myself in this resolution, which I did not even confide to Alfred, by reading some of Alfieri's most spirit-stirring tragedies, and waited for the wished-for occasion with the calm of an old Roman. A circumstance soon arose, calculated to goad me on still more by the stings of wounded personal pride ; and by its con- sequences to open the way to that point which I held steadily 28 LOEENZO BENONI. OHAPTEE III. THE PRINCE CARRIES THE DAY, BUT I SPOIL HIS TRIUMPH. One eventful day a stirring expectation electrified iDoth mas- ters and pupils, and the hatitual calm of our community had given place to an extraordinary excitement. His majesty King Charles Felix, then visiting Genoa, con- descended, on this very day, to receive a deputation from the college, commissioned to carry to the foot of the throne an humble expression of the loyal gratitude and devotion of the community toward their august patron. The deputation was to be composed of the Father Rettore and Vice-Rettwe, accom- panied by five pupils, who were to be selected by the former from the five divisions, and presented to his majesty. Who the five elect were to be was still a secret in the book of Fate. " Who will it be 1" such was the thrilling question that every one put to every one, and on which every conversation, in ev- ery division, turned. Many a heart beat q;uick and high at that moment, if I may judge by my own. Opinions in the second were divided between the prince and me. We were th& two likely candidates, the prince on ac- count of his title, and in part also because of some success in the class of rhetoric, which, in fact, he chiefly owed to the favor of the professor, and to a certain clever knack of plagiar- ism ; I, of course, on account of those transcendent merits with which, dear reader, I have already acquainted you, and of my three noble decorating medals. It was a Thursday, a half-holyday, and we were in the play-ground, a spacious, oblong square, surrounded by a colon- A THEILLING QUESTION DECIDED. 29 nade sufficiently wide to shelter our turbulent games on rainy- days. We had formed one group in the 'middle, and were still debating the all-absorbing topic, every one with his ears upon the stretch to catch the first word of the longed-for announce- ment. " I bet my share of sweetmeats on the prince,'' cried a fawn- ing fellow, on seeing him approach. " Who takes the bet 1" " I !" retorted Alfred eagerly, " and here is my new ball into the bargain, on Lorenzo." The reader should be informed that on this solemn occasion we had an extraordinary allow- ance of sweetmeats, and a glass of Malaga wine at dessert. "Lorenzo! pooh!" exclaimed the prince with a shrug, and all eyes turned upon me. " And why not, please your highness ?" said I, piqued to the quick ; " if chance did not make me a prince by birth, some- thing better has made me prince three times." At these words I touched the three silver stars that hung upon my breast, for each of which I was called " prince" of the class in which I had won it. The repartee, and the majestic gesture that fol- lowed it, produced a visible impression upon the surrounding group. At this moment, a window opening noisily arrested every one's attention. The Father Ministro looked forth from it upon the play-ground. " Prince," cried he in a loud voice, " dress yourself quickly — you are to go to the king !" These last words were pronounced with a solemnity almost awful. I felt myself turn pale. The prince triumphant placed the thumb of his right hand under his chin, and moving up and down the other four fingers, pointed toward me, and walked away backward. As this gesture, with slight modifications, belongs to all countries, I will not weaken its meaning by endeavoring to give it a determinate signification. As for me, I followed him, declining as loud as possible, rosa, roses, which was considered the bitterest insult that could be offered to a student in rhetoric, as it amounted to saying, "You don't know the first declension." I have met with many a disappointment in life, but none ever affected me so painfully aa this. It was a first and bitter 30 LOEENZO EENONI. disencLantment. To speak candidly, I had never looked upon the prince as a serious competitor in the affair of the presenta- tion at court, and I made so sure of being preferred, that my failure took me quite by sui-prise. I felt both offended and humiliated by the precedence accorded to my rival. Not that I presumed too much on my own merits, but my impres- sion, as well, indeed, as that of the lilliputian society in which I moved, was that rank and title could never vie with distinc- tions such as those which I could boast. Birth and rank were held at college in the light of unimportant advantages ; and a dunce, let him be born a marquis or a duke, was no less a dunce with us, and no less treated as such. The only aristo- cracy we acknowledged at school was that of talent, and of physical strength united to spirit. To be presented to the king ! I would have given my success, my medals, my very blood, to have a near view of that monarch, whom my fancy painted as so brilliant, so handsome, so good. I had cherished the prospect of this intoxicating happiness for one long month, till it had grown into a certainty. My dreams, alas ! my poor dreams ! I had imagined what the king, all gracious, would say — his ques- tions, my answers. I had even pictured to myself my attitude and looks. His majesty was of course to notice me for my intelligence and good bearing, and then why should he not make me one of his pages? These pages, with their long flowing hair and short velvet cloaks, just as I had seen them in pictures and in the frescoes of our college church, were to me a perfect article of faith. Once a page, I should like to know what was to prevent me from becoming influential, nay, all-powerful at court? For a page to become all-powerful, was it not a regular thing ? I had heard so many tales of the kind ! And then, let the tyrants look to themselves ! Anastasius & Co. shall expiate in a dungeon — but no, let them go, and never show their faces again. Banishment will be sufficient. Alfred shall have a regiment of those fine light horse, of which he is so fond on account of their red shakos and white feathers — I had arranged everything so nicely, and now nothing DUNCES FOR EVER ! 31 nothing but bitter disappointment ! All my bopes cut off in the bud, all my future blasted ! The other boys selected were two sons of a Spanish grandee, the son of a Piedmontese general, and the heir of a wealthy planter of the isle of Cuba, all very suitable persons with respect to rank and forlune, but of whom it might truly be said, to use an English expression, that they were not likely to set the Thames on fire. Why, the prince was quite a lion among them ! No place, not one, had been reserved to real merit ! This choice may probably appear less extraordinary to my reader than it did to me at the time. The reverend fathers who conducted the Eoyal college, and 'who were, above all, the humble servants of the ruling powers, knew very well that docile subjects and not troublesome reasoners were desired at their hands. However proud, therefore, they might be of the pupils who distinguished themselves, they took good care to make no show of them at a court where talent was the worst recommendation, and a title, or a few millions, the best. At that time especially, enlightened ideas were a very bugbear in high quarters. To such were owing the late insurrectionary movements of Naples and Piedmont. So it was thought high time to put an end to this sort of thing. As a beginning, the universities of Turin and Genoa had been closed, and the programme of education laid down by Francis the First, emperor of Austria, was fast making its way into Piedmont. In answer to a plan of public instruction, laid before him at Milan by a distinguished professor, his imperial majesty had said laconically, " All too much. If my subjects know how to read and write, it is quite enough." To return. I concealed my deep vexation under an appear- ance of forced gayety, and continued the whole day to cut up, with most biting jokes, the famous deputation of geese, as I called it. Late in the evening the said deputation returned. The prince of course was glorious. The whole division formed a circle round him, silent and open-mouthed. Then began his account of the day's wonders. It sounded like a tale in the Arabian Nights. A magnificent coach and four had set down the deputation 32 LORENZO BENONI. under the porticoes of tlie Eoyal Palace, at tlie foot of the marble staircase leading to the state apartments. A master of the ceremonies, in a suit of black, and with a sword by his side, had met them there, led them up stairs, and across a vestibule thronged with a brilliant crowd of generals, cham- berlains, and courtiers. It was like a waving sea of many- colored plumes, shakos, epaulettes, and bright embroideries. They were there handed over to a chamberlain, covered with gold lace, who ushered them through a suite of apartments, compared to which those of the calif of Bagdad were as nothing, into the royal antechamber. A short stoppage, and a door was opened, and the king — the king in person, resplen- dent like a sun — was before them ! His majesty rose, came toward them, tapped the prince on the cheek, asked kindly after his papa and mamma, inquired how old he was, what class he was in, bade him be good, &c. When they retired from the royal presence, away they went, full gallop, to the villa of General San Martino, father of one of the happy elect. A splendid dinner there awaited them, dm-ing which a military band was playing in the gardens. They were petted, courted, overwhelmed with good things, and nosegays — in short, every moment brought them some new pleasure. And after all this, on their way home — and this really seemed a dream — they were allowed to go into a cafi ! Eeader, do you understand ? really and truly into a cafi ! That utterly forbidden fruit to the schoolboy, and therefore most ardently longed for — they had tasted of it to their hearts' content. Yes, into a cafe they went, examined the list of ices and wines, ordered the waiters about, drank punch, and gave themselves all sorts of manly airs. This day, so long and sad to me, had passed like lightning for the prince, in an uninterrupted series of triumphs and pleasures. While I was strugghng to repress my tears of bitter disappointment, he was exhausting every species of enjoyment, of which even the delirious imagination of a schoolboy could dream. Every word of this fairy tale was to me like a drop of boiling oil upon a wound, and in spite of all my efforts to BITIXG SARCASMS. 33 conceal my feelings, envy and vexation no doubt betrayed themselves to a certain degree in my face. My countenance, even to this day, is a tell-tale, which, do what I will, I can not control. Nature did not intend me for diplomacy. " You look uneasy, Lorenzo !" said the prince, suddenly fixing his eyes upon me. What a capital opportunity of casting one drop of bitterness into his cup of bliss ! I could not let it slip, so I answered in the softest tone : " Not in the least, my dear fellow, if I felt any uneasiness it was on your account, but your narrative has completely dispelled it." " What uneasiness, in Heaven's name, could you feel about me ?" asked the prince with the accent of displeased surprise. " Why, a very natural one," returned I. " Suppose that the king, instead of asking you about papa, mamma, and so on, had asked you something about your studies — some c[uestion in history, for instance " " Well, what then ! I should have answered like anybody else." ' " That was just the point I did not feel so sure of. Suppose that his majesty had asked you the number of unities required by Aristotle in a tragedy, or when and by whom the Italian Sonnet was invented, you would have been sorely puzzled to answer." The prince winced under the sneer, the more so as he could not deny, and of course would not admit his ignorance on these subjects. " You are not my examiner, that I know of," retorted he, in a would-be dignified manner, " so I shall not take the trouble to prove the contrary." " Well, just give us a slight definition of poetry in general," urged I, " and let alone all the rest." " Upon my word," cried the prince, " I do not know why you give yourself such airs of superiority. Must we fall at your feet, and adore genius in your worshipful person 1" This sarcasm, followed by a profound bow of mock humility, caused a general burst of laughter. " It is not necessary," returned I coolly, " to be a genius in order to know a little more than you do." 2* 34 LOEENZO BENONI. " Oil ! as to that, I am just as good as you any day," retorted the prince, " and I hope I have given proofs of that, especially in poetry." Here he had ventured on dangerous ground. " Why that miserable second prize," returned I, " has turned your brain, I do believe, and yet you owe it to a sonnet of Frugoni, which, moreover you spoiled in copying." " That's a calumny,'' cried the prince, turning red as fire. " I could prove it on the book," said I, " if I choose, but I do not. We shall see, however, if I do not find a way to ciu'O you of your pretensions to poetry." » The bell that summoned us to rest put an end to this stormy debate, and we took our several ways to bed. A CAPITAI^ IDEA. 35 OHAPTEE IV. DEEP SCHEMES, AND A QUEER LECTURER. My object in dropping the few hints that had so stung the prince to the quick, was less to pick a quarrel than to cause him momentary annoyance. A quarrel, however, had ensued, and I was not sorry for it ; the less so that the turn which the dispute had taken toward the end had suggested to me a capital idea. It was quite customary in our college for one pupil to call out another, in presence of a professoi-, to a trial of skill in some kind of colnposition, either prose or verse ; and the stake was generally a certain number of what were termed points of diligence, which were nothing else than lai-ge commas in- scribed under the respective name of each pupil, and having a convenient value, representing the amount of industry and diligence displayed by him in the various daily tasks. At the end of the year, the pupils possessed of the highest number of these points were entitled to certain prizes. The guardian of the important volume, in which they were registered upon an order of the professor, was held in high honor, and was called the decurion. These trials of skill were much encouraged by the profes- sors, as a means of promoting useful emulation, and wer5 termed in our scholastic language cJiallenges. So I determined to challenge the prince in poetry ; and already I was so im- patient for the next afternoon's lecture, that I could hardly get to sleep for thinking of it. Alfred came to me next morning rubbing his hands. " Do you know, Lorenzo, that what you said last night aboiit the 36 LOKENZO BENONI. stolen sonnet has made quite a commotion among our fellows? They have got hold of the volume of Frugoni ; it is all just as you said : the prince's sonnet is a barefaced plagiarism, merely copied, and Frederic, who ought by rights to have had the prize, is furious." " And well he may," answered I. " You will get him on our side, won't you 1" cried Alfred. " Yes, yes, all in good time ; but I have something on hand just now. Do you suppose that I have done with the prince already ?" " I don't exactly know," answered Alfred, " but I dare say you have some great plan in your head." " Eightly guessed," said I, in the tone of a Napoleon on the eve of the 18th Brumaire; "this very day I challenge him." " Capital !" cried Alfred clapping his hands ; but, on seeing me lay my fingers upon my lips to enjoin silence, he changed that espression of delight into half-a-dozen capers. The lecture on oratory came in the morning ; that on poetry in the afternoon. So, when the bell rang for the former, which I was obliged to attend, I gathered my books under my arm, much annoyed at the delay of my wishes. The reader may as well go with me into the lecture-room, where a very odd professor and a strange scene will be presented to his view. , The regular lecturer happening to be ill in bed, a supple- mentary professor filled his place — a thin, sallow, lanky priest of about thirty. His real name has escaped my memory, for he always went among us by the appellation of Spiderlegs, owing to the disproportionate length of his nether limbs, which gave him the appearance of a clerical shaven crown upon Stilts. Poor Spiderlegs ! sublimely pre-eminent in both absurdity and endurance ! Great, unknown martyr, forgive the involun- tary smile that will come when I pronounce thy name, for the sake of the tear which rises at the same time ; and may the ■deep and sincere emotion of the man in retracing thy suffer-? ings, redeem in part the wrongs inflicted by the unreflecting child along with his companions .' A QUEER LECTUEER: POOR SPIDERLEGS ! 37 The excessive tendency to familiarity whicli cliaracterizes childhood, requires on the part of a teacher, to keep it from degenerating into rude disrespect, a nicety of judgment ivhich few possess — and Spiderlegs least of all. This was the rock on which most of our superiors split, with the exception of the Father Eettore and of the professor of poetry. For poor Spiderlegs there was no chance. We all know how merciless children are toward physical defects, and his were such, that he seemed formed by nature to he their laughing-stock and hutt. He possessed not one quality which could command respect — no learning, no manners, no taste, no brilliant or solid qualities of any kind, to redeem in any degree the awk- wardness of his appearance. On the contrary, a vulgar em- phasis, absurd gestures, a rage for incorrect quotations, and a turn for floundering into subjects quite beyond his depth, com- bined to make of him the most grotesque caricature. I must further mention one of his foibles, quite incompre- hensible in one so ill formed. His strange figure would have been perfectly veiled by the priest's long gown, such as is commonly worn in our country ; but, as if to display his de- formity to its best advantage, Spiderlegs had had I'the weak- ness to adopt the short ecclesiastical coat, knee-breeches, and black silk stockings, a rather modern innovation, first intro- duced by some abbe anxious to show off his handsome limbs. The most serious man could not have refrained fi-om a smile at sight of Spiderlegs, with his head complacently bent on one side, his short cloak tucked up under his ai-m, his elbows squared, his toes turned out, tripping forward with a sort of skip at every step, which gave him a family likeness to a magpie wagging its tail as it hops along. The lecture begins — Spiderlegs is in his professor's desk, which is exactly like a pulpit. How often has he stood there as in a piUory, a mark for the mocks and gibes of his turbulent class ! The pupils, one after another, enter the hall, each holding his coat-tails under his arm, and mimicking, with mock gravity, all the ridiculous peculiarities of the professor's gait. Presently, the pupils stand in a row, in the middle of the hall, to repeat their lesson. The lesson is said admirably — 38 LOEENZO BKNONI. not a word is omitted. The professor lavishes praise and encouragement upon this extraordinary diligence, amid the titterings, to him quite incomprehensible, of the whole set ; till one unlucky, near-sighted fellow begins to hesitate and stam- mer. Spiderlegs frowns. " Are you not ashamed," cries he, " to fall so far short of your companions ? Follow the example they have set you." Renewed hilarity. " Go nearer," says a voice. " You ought to have put on spectacles," cries another. " We'll write larger another time," breaks in a third. The direction of all eyes leads at last those of the bewildered lec- turer to look over his desk, and there he sees, just beneath him, and facing the pupils, a huge paper, with the lesson of the day written in capital letters. He tears it off indignantly, and flings the pieces about him with rage. The themes are then called for, but scarcely a dozen out of fifty can be collected. Spiderlegs exclaims against such an enormous deficit, and asks of those who have failed how this comes about. Now for the best of the joke. One, with a lamentable air, shows his cheek dreadfully swelled from toothache, which was of course, a moment before, in its natural state. Another has dislocated his wrist, and exhibits it to the professor, shockingly contracted. A third raises his fore-finger, bound round with a heap of rag — he has cut him- self to the bone. Others audaciously assert that they have given in their theme, and that it must have been mislaid, and set about hunting for it, of course only creating disorder. Poor Spiderlegs must be satisfied with what he has got, and begins to read. The professor having made up his mind to this, his audience make up theirs, some to lean with their elbows on their desks to take a little nap as comfortably as they can, others to have a game of draughts, others to play at odds or evens. A battle with paper arrows begins between the day scholars and the boarders, seated at the opposite sides of the hall, while the rest, who have no particular occupation, set to talking, laugh- ing, or quarrelling, with the same freedom as if no professor at all were present. The poor man pretends to see nothing, to hear nothing, till the noise positively drowns his voice. " Gen- MAETYEDOSr AN UmOAE. 39 tlemen," says he at this crisis, " this disturhance is (][uite im- proper, it prevents those who have the will to pay attention from doing so. I entreated yesterday, and I do entreat again to-day, those who do not care to listen to carry out their con- versation there," — pointing to some empty henches at the further end of the hall. " The studious and the well-disposed — who are, I am sure, the great majority here — will thus at least not he disturbed by the noise.'' He had no sooner finished speaking, than the whole audience rose in a body and went over to the forms pointed out for the perturbators. I will spare the reader the roars of laughter and the concert of jokes that accompany this migration. The unfortunate martyr hides his face in the attitude of one in deep meditation. None guesses that he weeps bitter tears ! But his trials are not yet at an end. Like drunkards, whose thirst is stimulated not satisfied by drinking, so with the wild young crew the rage for inflicting torture increases by indulgence. Profound silence suddenly takes place. Pigna, renowned for practical jokes, winks to his companions, and moves toward the professor's desk with a demure look, and a book in hand. He rouses the attention of Spiderlegs by pointing out a line, and the motion of his finger denotes that he asks the explana- tion of a knotty passage. The lecturer stoops over the book. Pigna watches his opportunity, and, holding his book in his left hand, with his right he suddenly flings into the professor's face a ball of paper moulded for the purpose. The martyr's patience is at an end. A livid hue over- spreads his face, his lips tremble, his eyes roll wildly in search of the culprit. At last the storm bursts on the head of a poor fellow quite unprepared. Spiderlegs, who has caught the boy smiling, rushes from his desk, catches hold of him, and begins thumping with all his might. " It wasn't I, it was Pigna," cries the victim. Now comes Pigna's turn. Spiderlegs flies at him, but meets with vigorous resistance. Help on all sides comes up for Pigna, forms are upset, books fly, confusion is at its height. The Father Ministro and one of the prefettr, attracted by 40 LORENZO BENONI. the noise, make tteir appearance at this critical conjuncture, and with some difficulty separate the combatants. The profes- sor escapes with the loss of half his cloak, and Pigna, with another ringleader, is condemned to the table of repentance, that is, a table at the farther end of the refectory, where culprits did penance on bread and water. A POPULAR PKOFKSSOE. 41 OHAPTEB, V. WHEREIN THE LATE SECOND PRIZE IS CURED OP HIS PRETENSIONS TO POETRY. Three hours later, the same hall which had been the scene of such uproar and riot in the morning, presented a totally different, and far more edifying picture. The pupils were bent in silent attention over their books, and order and propriety prevailed throughout. Only a few words were exchanged from time to time, and always in a subdued and cautious tone ; not from servile fear, for there was no attempt at concealment, but evidently from respect for the occupation of the rest. It seemed almost impossible that these should be the same youths, so riotous and unruly in the morning ; and the man who, by his presence alone, could operate such a metamorphosis, de- serves a few words of introduction to the reader. Signer Lanzi, our professor of Latin and Italian poetry, was a man about forty, with a considerable tendency to cor- pulence, which, however, a tall, well-proportioned figure carried off very well. He wore gold-rimmed spectacles, had a rather high-colored complexion, and a countenance expres- sive of serene benevolence. Gentle and intelligent was his smile, and his voice sweet and melodious ; but the influence he exercised upon his numerous audience depended chiefly upon that natural'^efinement of manners which wins affection while it imposes involuntary respect. There is nothing that so surely commands reverence from young people as treating them with a certain degree of regard, which makes it a point of honor on their part to strive to merit the good opinion indicated. 4.2 LOEENZO BKNONI. But, perhaps, tte circumstance which had the greatest share in the authority and popularity of our lecturer on poetry, was that of Signor Lanzi's not being a priest. Had he been a priest or a monk, two words synonymous among us with ty- rant and fool, he would infallibly have met with a systematic opposition, and an amount of ill-will, which he would no doubt in course of time have overcome, though not without a struggle. As he wore boots and a round hat, instead of a clerical three- cornered one, and black silk stockings, he found no unfavora- ble prepossession against him, and we soon felt that we might yield ourselves to his guidance without degradation. Such at least was our college reasoning, and I give it for what it is . worth. Signor Lanzi possessed, besides, intrinsic merits more than sufficient to captivate our young minds. His erudition in Greek and Latin literature was really pro- digious, and he was very well versed in archaeology. There was hardly an author, Greek or Roman — even the most ob- scure — that he had not analyzed, dissected, passed through the crucible of his brain ; hardly a scholium or a commentary that he had not himself commented upon. It was a real pleasure to hear Signor Lanzi earnestly dissert, for hours, on the Catonis animum atrocem of Horace, or on the substitution of an r for a V in the word Diva. You would have supposed from the solemnity of his tone, that the fate of the whole world rested upon the question. He was exclusive in his admiration of the classics, and he would positively work himself up to the point of weeping over Fons BJandusia, splendidier vitro, while the beauties of Shakspere and Schiller left him quite unmoved. Indeed, he hated innovators as much as he could hate anything, and would, I believe, willingly have seen them consigned to an auto-da-fi. Such was the man who had undertaken to make poets of us. To return to my subject. It will be remembered how im patiently I had waited for the lecture on poetry, to challenge the prince. I had previously examined the register of the points of diligence, and found that I had about 900, while the prince had scarcely a hundred. Half an hour or so after the A WELL-TIMED QUOTATION. 4:3 opening of the lecture, seizing a favorable moment, I rose, and addressing the professor, " With your permission," said I, " I Lave a challenge to propose." " Ever full of ardor, Mr. Lorenzo," observed Signer Lanzi, smiling and taking off his spectacles ; " that is just like you. And whom do you intend to challenge V " The late second prize, the prince," said I. The name I uttered chased away the smile, and brought in its place an expression of some embarrassment, which may be easily accounted for. The prince had been most particularly recommended to Signor Lanzi by the family of the youth, who were rich and powerful, and at whose table the learned pro- fessor was a frequent and welcome guest. The good easy man had his little weaknesses, and liked to keep well with such friends. It was, therefore, with the evident intention of slightly intimidating me, and sparing his protege humiliation, that he resumed after a pause, in a half-caressing, half-warning tone, " Have a care, Mr. Lorenzo ; you throw the gauntlet to a powerful antagonist. I advise you to consider of it." " Est Dsus in nobis, agitante callescimus illo," replied I. This classical q^uotation restored the smile to Signor Lanzi's lips, and carried the point for me. " If the prince has no objec- tion," said the kindly man. " The prince," interrupted I hastily, " can have no objection. No longer ago than yesterday evening he said to all who chose to hear, that he was not afraid of me." " And I repeat it," cried my antagonist, provoked to the ut- most by the irony of my tone. " So much the better," said I. " You accept, then, the 'cJial- lenge I offer you, in any metre, ^nd on any subject. I stake my 943 points of diligence against your 109, a slight advan tage, which I can easily give you." The professor rebuked me gently for this little bravado, ob- serving that modesty was the best complement of real merit. He assigned as our subject " The Death of Philoctete^," and allowed us two days for our composition. If it was in my nature to enter upon no enterprise without long and mature consideration, it was in my nature also, when 44 LORENZO EENONI. once set upon an undertaking, to cany it through with unre- mitting ardor and perseverance. So, an hour after the dia- logue I have just quoted, I was already seated at my desk in the schoolroom, with a huge sheet of paper before me, looking up to the ceiling for inspiration, twisting my hair through my fingers, biting the end of my quill ; in short, in all the fever of composition. And after the lapse of a few minutes — the ar- dent wish to humble my antagonist standing me instead of a muse — the verses began to flow rapidly ; and toward the close of the second day I had before me an enormous poetical rhapsody, corrected, polished, and ready to be fairly copied out. That I was very well satisfied with my performance I must own ; and well I might be, considering the feat I had achieved, in diluting and amplifying into four hundred lines what might perfectly well have been compressed into a hundred. However absorbed in my work during these two days, I had not failed to mark certain mysterious on-goings around the prince. Books and notes were constantly passing to and fro among his coterie. I smiled at these manoeuvres, which proved only his embarrassment. But this calm state of mind soon changed to one of great anxiety; I had just copied, in my best round hand, the title, " The Death of Philoctetes," when I received a note, secretly passed from hand to hand till it reached me. It came from one of my best friends of the first division. He urged me to go out to him immediately, as he had something important to tell me, which he dared not trust to paper. I instantly pretended to be seized with bleeding at the nose, and got leave to go out. I found my friend waiting. " "Well, what is the matter ?" inquired I. " The matter is," said my friend, " that I am sure the prince does not play fair. This morning I surprised one of our fellows, Collareta, copying out of a volume, of which, however, I could not see the title, a Death of Fhiloctetes, in blank verse ; and I will lay any wager that by this time Barilli of your division, who has been prowl- ing about near our hall the whole morning, has managed to convey the copy to the prince." The blood froze in my veins at this announcement. It was PLOT AUD OOUNTEEPLOT THE FEOG SWELLS. 46 a fact, which I now recollected, that Barilli, who had long since positively assumed the part of valet to the prince, had been absent from onr schoolroom almost all the morning ; and that, when he returned, he had gone straight to the prince, and held a moment's conversation with him. The prince, I re- marked, looked singularly satisfied at the time. " Well," said I to my friend, " there is* no time to be lost. The first thing is to find out whose the volume is, and the next to get it at any cost, if only for twenty-four hours." "Very easy," returned he, "to know whose the volume is; indeed, I am pretty sure it is Pernetti's ; but to get hold of it is quite another question." " I tell you I must have it. Beg, borrow, or steal, I must and will have it. Why, my honor is at stake ! Promise or threaten what you will. All that Alfi-ed and I possess, take all, dispose of all, but get me the volume." King Richard's voice crying,," My kingdom for a horse!" did not thrill with more emotion than did mine. My friend caught the passion which animated my words and looks, and vowed he would do everything in the world to satisfy me. He set about the busi- ness in the right way apparently, for at the end of two long hours of torturing anxiety, the blessed book was in my hands. I was ready to jump and dance for joy. The prince, in the meantime, was rubbing his hands in evi- dent delight. " Repeat us some of your verses," said he to me sneeringly, as we came back from a walk. " I do not remember them by heart," answered I ; " you will hear them soon enough." " Suppose," continued the prince, " we were to add some lit- tle thing to the stake V " I never cheat," returned I, " and to bet when one is sure of winning is cheating." " Indeed, what exquisite delicacy of feeling !" cried he, bursting into a horse-laugh. His insolence was to me a proof that he had really copied. " Well," thought I, " swell at your ease, poor frog of the fable ; to-morrow you are sure to burst !" At length the decisive hour arrived. The repeating of the 46 LOEENZO BP,NONI. lessons and the collecting of the -wTitten exercises having been gone through, Signor Lanzi took into his hands the two mo- mentous manuscripts. Mine was tied- with blue riband, the prince's with red. A half-suppressed "OhK' of excitement and satisfaction ran through the whole class. " "We will begin by reading the composition of the prince," observed the professor f " being the challenged, this is his right." The prince i-ose, and, with a tone of perfect assurance, said : "I have done the whole, sir, in blank verse; I thought it best suited to the dignity of the subject." " Very well," answered Signor Lanzi ; and he began to read aloud, while I, with my eyes fixed on the book concealed by my desk, read silently every Avord that the professor uttered. The prince had not given himself the trouble to change even one epithet. I really believe he had copied the very com- mas. " Why, Mr. Lorenzo," said the lecturer, stopping at the end of the first page, and turning to me with his accustomed smile, " these are rather fine verses ; so fine, indeed, that Apollo must have inspired you if you have done better." " Truly I have no hope of it," replied I with a somewhat hypocritical tone of resignation. Signor Lanzi looked at me twice, to ascertain, I suppose, what might be the true meaning of my answer, and then went on reading. I let him continue for some time', allowing my rival to drink eagerly the praises that showered upon him, and in which I myself joined by sun- dry exclamations expressive of admiration. Then, taking the opportunity of a pause occasioned by a difficulty met with in making out a word, I suddenly rose and said, " If you please, sir, I can spare you the trouble of making out the manu- script." "What do you mean?" inq[uired Signor Lanzi with some wonder. " I mean that the verses you are taking the trouble of read- ing in manuscript are all very clearly printed here," and hold- ing up to view the accusing volume, I began to read aloud the continuation of the prince's composition. The poor boy almost fainted. THE FKOG BURSTS. 47 " Let me see the book," exclaimed the professor, frowning ; and having for a moment compared the copy with the original, he reddened with indignation, and turning to the prince — " This is indeed an unworthy trick," cried he, flinging down with contempt the stolen verses ; " it is a dishonorable cheat toward your competitor, sir, and a downright insult to your professor !" The prince, trembling and overwhelmed, en- deavored, with tears in his eyes, to stammer out some excuse. "Be silent!" thundered Signor Lanzi imperiously. "The case admits of no apology ; you can only aggravate your offence !" There ensued a pause of a few minutes, during which the professor recovered his serenity. " Now," said he, " let us see Mr. Lorenzo's production. With him we fear no cheating ; all he does is sterling" — and thereupon he began to read. All I can say is, that my poetic medley excited so much enthusiasm in the reader and the audience, that more than one passage was received with loud applause. A dozen of philosophers (so we called the students in the class of philoso- phy), whose lecture finished half an hour before the- others, rushed into our hall, to which the noise had attracted them, and requested the favor of being allowed to remain, which Signor Lanzi graciously permitted. Nothing was wanting to my triumph, had not the sight of the prince, so completely overwhelmed, mixed with the joy I felt a strong emotion of regret, and almost of remorse. - He leaned his head against his desk, and strove in vain to stifle the sobs which the convulsive heavings of his chest made manifest. The reading being ended, the professor complimented me in the most flattering manner. He declared me the victor, and ordered the decurion to transfer to my account the points of diligence from that of my competitor. At these words the prince could bear it no longer; he rose sobbing, and went out. Much moved, I entreated Signor Lanzi, with tears in my eyes, to revoke this part of the sentence. " Far from wishing,'' said I, " for any of the prince's points of diligence, I would willingly give all my own, not to have caused him so much pain." The professor was touched, and yielded to my request, saying 48 LORENZO BENONI. kindly, " Yon obtain a double triumph to-day, for your heart is as sound as your head." I will just add here, to return no more to the subject, that this day's victory remained a memorable event in the annals of the college ; that in some circles of the town it was proposed to have my Death of Philoctetes printed ; and that my friend Alfred was within a hair's breadth of going mad with joy. WHO IS THE 6TE0NGEST? 49 CHAPTEE VI. DESCRIBES A BOXING-MATCH, AND A RISE IN PUBLIC PROSPfiCTS, SOON FOLLOWED BY A FALL IN MINE. In the afternoon the prince appeared to have quite recov- ered from his late shock, and was in deep confabulation with Anastaslus, Barilli, and another of his partisans. I had no doubt that they were plotting against me, and I expected no less, knowing the vindictive character of my adversary. On .the very same evening, in fact, I was subjected to the following provocation. During the half-hour's recreation which follows supper I was sitting on a bench in the schoolroom, and chatting quietly with two or three companions. The prince began to walk up and down in front of me, his arms crossed over his chest, positively shrugging his shoulders, and casting looks of defiance at me each time he passed. When this dumb show had been repeated three or four times, I lost patience. " What do you want with me now V cried I. " I suppose you wish for another chance. All quite fair. You may^have better luck in Latin verse or prose." " What do I care for your verse or your prose ?" returned the prince contemptuously. " Do I need that to live by ? But who is the strongest ? I should like to know that," added he, with the air of a bully. We all know how highly schoolboys rate physical strength, and its concomitant spirit, as they call it. Superiority in this respect would have counterbalanced any degree of intellectual pre-eminence. We both felt conscious of this. " Down with your hand," exclaimed I, thrusting away with 3 so LDEKNZO BBSONI. the back of my right hand his closed fist, which he held up to my face. " I do not know which may be the strongest, but I know that I have ten times your spirit." "Pooh!" cried my antagonist ; "why, you are frightened at this very moment." " I suppose you want to fight," returned I, " if the truth were known." " To be sure I do," said he. "Eeady," cried I; "I am your man." Boxing-matches were not rare at school, and had their forms, just like duels in the world. Each instantlyx chose his two seconds, who were to settle the hour, the place, and the mode of combat, which was to take place next day. My seconds were, Alfred, of course, and Frederic ; the prince's, Anastasius and Barilli. The following morning, in opposite corners of the pl&.y- ground, stood two groups of three each, the prince on one side, and I on the other, with our respective seconds ; at the particular req^uest of whom the rest of the division were dis- persed about as usual; to avoid attracting the attention of the prefetto. Poor Alfred was very busy tying a handkerchief round my waist to keep in my breath, and giving me all sorts of advice. "Look, Lorenzo," repeated he over and over again, "just give him a good thump here at the bottom of the chest, and you will floor him in a minute." " Ready !" cried one of the opposite party, and all six joined in a group. The conditions of combat usual in such cases were now clearly laid down by the respective seconds. First, quite contrary to the mode of boxing established in England, which makes a black eye and a bloody nose the first trophy of valor, we were forbidden to strike blows directed to the head or face. Secondly, we were equally forbidden to trip each other up. Any other mode either of boxing or wrestling to throw each other down, was allowed. Whichever infringed these regulations should be declared beaten. The combat was to last till one gave in, or till the advantage appeared AIT AEGDMENT AD HOMINEM. 51 SO decisively on one side tliat the seconds should interfere to stop it. We both accepted the conditions, allowed ourselves to be respectively searched to see that we had no concealed arms, stripped off our coats, and were placed at five paces' distance from each other. At the first signal, given by Anastasius and Alfred clapping their hands sim-ultaneously, we closed, and the whole division rushed to form a ring. For some minutes the fight we'nt on briskly enough, without any perceptible advantage on either side, when all at once the prince thrust his leg between mine, and tripped me up completely, so that I fell at full length, dragging him after me in my fall. " Foul play, foul play !" screamed out Alfred and Frederic, "the prince has lost — part them !" "No such thing — let them alone!" roared Anastasius and his fellow-second. I was so thoroughly in the spirit of the fight, that, although in my heart enraged at this open breach of faith, I claimed nothing, I thought of nothing, but of overcoming my adversary. We rolled over each other several times, till at length, seizing a favorable chance, I rose on one knee, pinned the prince with his forehead to the ground, with my left hand, while with the right I set to belaboring his shoulders, calling to him all the time to surrender. At this critical moment arose a general cry of " The pre- fetto, the prefetto !" and a shower of cuts from a good switch, applied by a vigorous arm, fell equally on the prince and my- self. This was an irresistible argument, so we both rose of our own accord, and thus ended our fight. Now came recriminations. Alfred and Frederic in a tower- ing passion, declared that I had conquered twice, the first time because of the prince having tripped me up, in defiance of the established conditions, the second because of the decisive advantage I had over my antagonist when the prefetto interfered. Anastasius and Barilli as eagerly contended that what had happened was not imputable to the prince, being a mere accident independent of his will, and that the combat 62 LOEENZO BENONI. being interrupted, no decision could be made at all. The prince, wbo cut rather a sorrj figure, his hair and face being covered with dust, swore by all the gods that his foot had slipped sorely against his will. To put an end to the contes- tation, which was going on with useless and increasing bitter- ness, and not to aggravate the prince's conftision, which was extreme, I apparently admitted his explanation, and a resolution was moved by Anastasius, and agreed to by all parties, to the effect that, forasmuch as the fight had heen interrupted, the victory could be awarded to neither, but that both combatants had given proof of strength and spirit. This piece of diplomacy in no degree altered the general conviction that I had had the upper hand. To complete the matter, the prince and I had the satisfaction of dining and supping on bread and water at the table of repentance. It now remains for us to estimate the effect of the events we have just related, and for this purpose we shall take up matters a week after the day of the boxing match. To begin with the most striking and unexpected result : strange to say, the prince, from the day of his second defeat, became quite an altered being. Good-humored and obliging to every one, to me he was henceforth most attentive. In all games he betted on my side, or called me in as umpire, and without fail it was to me he had recourse for help in every difficulty in his theme or exercise. I was very well disposed to give him credit for sincerity in all this, and yet I could not but remember his vindictive disposition, and occasionally a suspicion of some trick or trap would cross me. I received his advances, therefore, with perfect politeness, but with a coldness that evidently pained him. As to the rest of the division, the bold position I had taken, and my two successive victories, had just the influence on their minds which I had anticipated. The spirit of the oppressed was in some degree roused, and there was altogether a notable change for the better. The ordinary exactions went on as usual, but there were no more voluntary offerings, no more smiles, no more sneaking bows. All was silent sullen resig- nation, and when Anastasius was out of hearing, murmurs SIGNS OF THE TIMES. 53 "not loud but deep" ran round the hall, and the eyes of the malcontents turned all on me. It is unnecessary to add that Alfred and I were indefatiga- ble in blowing these embers into a flame. Frederic, the boy who had been one of my seconds, had committed himself too far at the time of my boxing-m5,tch with the prince not to go full length with us. It was even through his means that we were able to gain over to our projects another of our comrades, the strongest in the set, after the two satellites of the tyrant. This was a precious acq[uisition, but cost very dear. First, Alfred had to give him a splendid penknife with ten blades, of which my friend was very fond, but which he sacrificed without hesitation to the great cause. And for my part, I had to pledge my word of honor to write the theme of the new conspirator for the next distribution of prizes, and so insure his getting one. The poor fellow was doubly anxious for this, as his grandmother had promised him a gold watch the first time he should obtain any honor. There were then four of us, and very determined we were ; the general disposition of the set was favorable, my friends of the first urged me on, and offered their co-operation ; each day, nay, each hour, multiplied the chances of Anastasius or his friends becoming aware that there was mischief in the wind — in short, I felt that now or never was the time, and I appointed the day for action. The plan formed was this. It was agreed with our friends of the first, that the next evening, when the whole school should be coming out of the refectory after supper, they should manage to slacken the pace of their division, while Alfred and I would, on the contrary, hasten ours, so that both divis- " ions should come at the same moment upon the broad and dark landing-place at the head of the passage, into which the respective school-rooms opened. Our friends of the first there leaving their ranks should mingle with ours, crying, " Down with Anastasius, down with the tyrant !" a cry which Alfred and I should answer ; they were, moreover, to tax Anastasius with his extortions, which were nothing better than shabby robbery, and cry shame upon our division for allowing them- 64 LOEENZO BENONI. selves to be so trampled upon. Suppose our auxiliaries, to enforce the argument, thought it proper -at the same time to hustle or collar Anastasius a little, so much the better; but here their part, and the assistance they could give, must necessarily end, for the prefetti would inevitably interfere, and drive away the rioters of the first division into their school-room. The rest was for us to do, it was our business to strike while the iron was hot. The day had come, and we were within a few hours of the intended execution of our plan. It was four o'clock in the afternoon (ei^ht was the hour fixed on for the breaking out of our plot) when the door of the school-room creaked upon its hinges. " Master Lorenzo, the father rettore desires to speak with you," and the door closed again. These few words, which the father ministro let slowly fall, as it were, from his lips, threw me into a, state of great perturbation. Had our project been discovered ? — was I to have a lecture for my battle with the prince ? It was not likely, considering how old the affair was. To confess the truth, my conscience told of so many peccadilloes, that I was bewildered among the various conjectures it suggested, and I went in fear and trem- bling toward the august tribunal. The father rettore was a little old man of about seventy years of age. His carroty wig, set awry, his high-boned rosy cheeks, a large vein, which marked a thick blue line upon his red nose always crammed with snuff, tended to render his appearance rather ridiculous than imposing. And yet, not- withstanding this somewhat grotesque exterior, never was monarch in all his mightiness more revered by his subjects than was the father rettore by the turbulent youth confided to his care ; and this was not owing solely to the perfectly unlimited extent of his power. Other circumstances concurred to make him an object of profound respect, such as an illustrious name and exquisitely- polished manners, for which he was indebted to a highly- aristocratical, nay, princely education, and a reputation for immense learning, and for an austerity of life worthy of the early ages of the church._ Wonderful tales of the penances THE FATHEK EETTOEE. S5 and macerations lie was said to impose upon himself circulated in the college, and were calculated to strike our young minds, open as they were to receive strong impressions from all that rose above ordinary life — and to inspire us with deep venera- tion for a head which we looked upon as already encircled with a halo of saintly glory. As just as it was possible to be in his situation, kind and humane, although frequently severe upon system, full to the brim of a "conscientious sense of duty, this austere man com- bined in himself, in the highest degree, the virtues and the defects of a fervent catholic priest. Unbounded was his de- votion to the young flock intrusted to him, for whose eternal weal he considered himself 'individually responsible to God; but this sense of responsibility caused him to carry intolerance to a pitch of cruelty worthy of a Torquemada, in all cases in which he thought — with or without reason — that he saw the slightest offence to religion. And such is the power of any faith deep and sincere, even when carried to excess, that in spite of its effects being often productive of serious evil to us, we looked with admiration on the bent priest, who at such times, drawing himself up, as if by miracle, to his full height, would stand majestic and inexorable, like Moses, when, coming down from the mountain, he found the Israelites worshipping the golden calf. Besides, the father rettore, in order the better to maintain the manifold influence he possessed, did not disdain to have recourse to certain tactics, which proved his long and deep experience of children. A certain degree of mystery sur- rounded all his actions, especially the punishments he inflicted. It was not uncommon, for instapce, that the summons to the presence of the father rettore should be followed by the dis- appearance of the iiidividual thus summoned. What had be- come of him ? Nothing transpired, and it was only on his being restored to his companions that it became known that he had been, perhaps, in prison. This was the system of Venice applied to a college. .Like those of the oracles of old, so the awards of this dreaded monk came from an invisible source ; for the father 66 LOEENZO BENONI. rettore lived far from the eyes of tlie profane, and in a myste- rious sphere, from which, however, his influence penetrated everywhere, and at every moment. His very rare appearance in public became an event the more imposing from its always occurring unexpectedly. He spoke little, seldom smiled, was very sparing of praise, which he ever tempered with some slight reproof, and there was generally something of studied severity, I might say of harshness, in his manner ; but this rugged exterior concealed exquisite sensibility, which we had more than once discovered. At the bedside of the sick his mask would fall off, and the natural man appear : there he let forth all the treasures of his gentle kindness. What care, what tender anxiety, what soft solicitude ! He would become a child again himself, to bring a smile upon the lips of a sick child. With what affection he would make himself his nurse, watch and comfort him, and humor his little wishes or his whims ! It was affecting also to see the good old man on a sacrament day, his countenance radiant, and shedding tears of tender- ness, as he prayed for his beloved children, whom he believed to be in a state of grace. These bursts of sensibility, which gave an insight into the depths of his soul, did not escape our sharp-sighted observation, and mingled with our awe of the father rettore the more tender sentiment of almost filial love. Such was the man in whose presence I was about to appear. My hand trembled as I knocked twice at the door, in accord- ance with the usual regulation. " Come in !" was answered from within in a dry tone, and I entered. A STOEM IS AT HAND. 57 CHAPTEE VII. THANKS TO A FELLOW-PRISONER, I AM ROUSED FROM UTTER DESPAIR TO THE MOST SANGUINE ANTICIPATIONS. The arm-cliair in which the father rettore was seated in a state of perfect immobility, was placed against the side of the wall in which the door opened, so that in entering the eye caught only his profile. I hardly dared to cast a look that way, as I cautiously advanced to place myself on his right hand, where I remained standing. He did not turn his head, or make the slightest gesture indicative of hi^ having become awai-e of my presence ; but, on my endeavoring to take his hand, which leaned upon his knee, in order to kiss it according to custom, he drew it back sharply. There ensued a minute of awful silence, during which I could distinctly hear the rapid beating of my heart, and the buzzing sound of the flies' wings rustling among the papers that lay in confused heaps on the table. Presently the father rettore seemed to awake, and slowly opened a drawer, whence he drew forth a printed volume, which he placed before me, pointing with his forefinger to the title, so as to fix my attention upon it. I read — " Mdex Lih-orum proMbitorum a Summo Pontifice," etc. — " Catalogue of the BooJcs proliibited hy the Sovereign 'Pontiff" etc. Having left me more than time to read and weigh these words, he withdrew the book, turned over the leaves, as if seeking some particular passage, and then presented it to me again. This time the inexorable finger pointed to the words, " Milton's Paradise Lost." I felt annihilated. I wished myself a thousand feet under ground to hide my confusion. 3* 58 LOEENZO BENONI. Alas ! a few days before, when at home for a holyday, I had taken from my father's library the first volume of the Paradise Lost, translated into Italian, which I had carefully hidden in my desk, wheijce the prefetto, no doubt, or some of the prying superiors, had ferreted it out ; and in fact, on raising my eyes, I saw the accusing volume on the table. I was found guilty of the greatest crime which could be committed at college ! At length the storm which the awful silence portended burst upon my head. " So, sir ! could I have expected this from you ? Is this the return you make for the care and kindness shown you by your superiors 1 Is it to rush headlong into impiety that you use the talents which it has pleased God to lavish upon you ? To him you are accountable for your time, and you spend it in reading impious books, in spreading the poison of heresy among your young companions, — you, who owe them, on the contrary, an edifying example ! Why, Biscozza is an angel compared to you." (Biscozza was notoriously the most wicked boy in the school.) " What are Ms childish tricks, compared to impiety ? Do you know, that by the mere fact of having read that book, you are in a state of mortal sin? Do you know that, were it to please God to strike you dead at this moment (may his divine mercy give you time to repent), you would go to eternal perdition ? Can you think of this without shuddering, sir, or have you already reached that height of modern philosophy which denies the infallibility of the vicar of Christ, or even Christ himself ?" There was in the tone in which these last words were uttered such a thrill of bitterness, and yet of sadness, that I felt completely overcome. The father rettore's hands were agitated by convulsive motions to such a degree, that I ven- tured to raise my eyes toward him, from the fear that he was going to faint away. I saw a big tear drop upon his cheek, then stop, then roll farther, and fall upon his gown. Evidently exhausted by this passionate discourse, which he had pronounced with the greatest volubility and ever-incre'asing animation, the father leaned his elbow upon the table, and his Lead upon his hand. At the end of a few minutes he changed PItlSON LOOXIS. 59 liis posture, and began talking to himself witli vehement gestures. An indifferent spectator might perhaps have smiled at seeing the right hand (still pertinaciously holding between finger and thumb a pinch of snuff, which the good rettore never abandoned on any occasion) suspended in air, and awkwardly cutting little circles in its progress downward ; but, as may well be supposed, I was very far from feeling any inclination to laugh. The monologue, of which I could merely catch here and there a word, such as " duty," " weakness," " eternal salvation," " his mother," ended by a violent pull at the bell. A lay brother entered. " Send me the porter," said the father, " and tell him to bring the keys of the prisons." (The porter held also the office of jailer.) This conclusion came as a relief to me. To such a degree did I suffer in the presence of my terrible judge, justly incensed against me, that to escape from it I could almost have thrown myself into the fire. A heavy step and a clanking of keys announced the porter. The father rettore made him a sign, and dismissed me with a dry "Go !" I kissed his hand, which this time he did not withdraw, and followed my silent jailer. The prison in which I was confined was really miserable. Imagine a small cell, low and damp, receiving no light but from the narrow slit of a grated, unglazed window, placed so high that it was necessary to clamber up to it in order to catch a glimpse of sky about the size of a pocket-handkerchief. All other sight was shut out by a great wall, that rose at a very short distance exactly opposite, at least six feet above the slit window. The only furniture this comfortless room contained was one straw chair, a small deal table, and four planks, laid upon iron tressels, and supporting a wretched straw mattress. Such was my new abode. I had no communication whatever with the external world, neither books, paper, nor light, bread and water for my only food, and abundance of mice rioting on the floor, and mounting sometimes even on the bed. Add to this a biting north wind rushing all night through the rotten old shutters that most ineffectually closed before the window, and you will have a complete inventory of the comforts that awaited the poor prisoner. 60 LOKENZO BENONI. I threw myself on my miserable straw bed in a state of gi-eat depression. The scene which I had just had with the father rettore had made too strong an impression upon me, not to lead to serious and alarming reflections. So, then, I was really very guilty, so much so that I deserved eternal flames ! My reason revolted against this too terrible award. What was there so very wicked in that book 1 Nothing, it appeared to me. Yet, the pope had judged it to be very dangerous, since he had forbidden the reading of it. "Was I really come to the pitch of denying the infallibility of the pope ? — was it because I had become an impious heretic, a hardened sinner, that I could not work myself up to repentance ? Make what efforts I would, however, I could not bring myself to it. And then, when I must tell all this to the confessor ! — I shall cer- tainly die of shame ! — No doubt, he will refuse me absolution — and then, what will my superiors think of me? — what will my companions say when they see that I do not take the sacrament along with them 1 Insensibly, however, my thoughts took another direction, and went back to the all-absorbing interests I had left behind me. "What will become of our plans? "Will my associates risk the great stroke without me ? Certainly not. Alfred, of course, by this time has warned our friends of the first not to stir. But, suppose he should be prevented? — suppose the prefetto, as is often the case, should allow nobody to go out, on any plea whatever ? "What if they were to try, and fail! The contention of spirit arising from these various imagin- ings soon rendered bodily inaction insupportable. I jumped off the mattress, and by means of my table, on which I placed my chair, I scrambled up to the slit of a window, but, wearied with contemplating the sky, I soon left my observatory, and pame down again. Innumerable inscriptions covered the walls of my dungeon, and, hoping to find some relief in the occupation I set myself to make them out. There were some of all sorts — serious thoughts, comic thoughts^some rebel- lious, some resigned, some cowardly, some heroic ; and, in spite of the absent mind with which I read, there were a few thaf PRISON mSCEIPTIONS FKENZT. 61 struck me. " Quicguid impunefacerc, idestPatrem SomascJium esse." (To do everytliing with impunity, this is to be a Father Somasco.) This parody of a famous sentence of Tacitus,, written in huge .letters, was sigued with blood " Sforza." Great was my surprise at seeing such a name take the responsibility of so bold a sentiment. Sforza, one of the first division, was looked upon as a perfect nonentity, and was not even initiated into our revolutionary projects. In another place, there was written at full length, the touching history of a young captive, who had endured fifteen long days of confinement rather than reveal the name of an accomplice. This unfortunate martyr to honor had marked his sufferings day by day on the walls of his prison, his only tablets, in a simple and pathetic lament, in rhymed stanzas, ending each by this burthen, " Better in prison die than live to be a spy." Further on, an almost im- perceptible " Death to Anastasius !" made me smile bitterly. Hidden in a corner, and written in microscopic letters, it suffi- ciently attested the pusillanimity of the writer. Here ended my review of these inscriptions. Although the days were long, for it was in April, and there remained a good hour of light elsewhere, dusk was already gathering so fast in my hole that I could see to read no longer ; so that my own irritating thoughts again took full possession of me. As the shades thickened around me, and the appointed hour ap- proached, my anxiety became more intense, and my steps more and more rapid. I believe I must have been feverish. All at once a bell rang — it was the call to the refectory. In half an hour the blow will be struck — and I shall not be there. I bit my hands with rage, and beat the mattress, the walls, and my own burning forehead with my clenched fist ; hut presently it was far worse. Hark — the bell rings again — a convulsive shivering came over me, my whole soul seemed gathered in my ears, as I laid them close against the door — Now is the moment — first came an indistinct sound, then more clear — cries, tilampling — a pause — the cries, the tramp- ling re-commence — it is certain, they are fighting — what agony ! " Help, Lorenzo, help !" This cry, which I fancied J distinctly heard, completely overset jny already troubled 62 LOEENZO BENONI. brain. I became literally frantic ; I flew to the bars of tbe window, and shook them with redoubled strength ; I tore my hands in vainly trying to force the lock of the door. Every attempt only proved my utter helplessness, and made me roar like a wild beast. Had I possessed the means I should certainly have set fire to the prison. Had I possessed a weap- on I do not know what mischief I might not have done. At last, weary and bruised, I threw myself upon my mattress, and there lay, heaving, panting, exhausted to such a degree that I hoped I was dying. My eyes closed, as I thought, never again to open. A voice calling me by my name awoke me with a start, for the torpor which I hailed as the harbinger of death had re- solved itself into a good sound sleep, which came to repair my sinking strength and spirits. I was quite surprised to find myself not only alive, but with my head cool, and my thoughts clear ; I felt rather frightened, however, at the profound silence and darkness that surrounded me. I already began to attrib- ute to a dream the voice I imagined I had heard, wlien I was again distinctly called. It was the voice of the prince. In one instant I w^s off the mattress, and fumbling in the dark, had set my chair and table so as to scramble up to the window like a squirrel. " Where the deuce are you 1" — " Why, here in prison, close to your cell." I have forgotten to say that on the left of the room in which I was shut up, and on the same line, extended a set of cells destined for the same purpose. " Anything new in the division 1" asked I eagerly. " Nothing at all," answered the prince. Relieved at once by these few words from a whole world of anxiety, I fell to asking him questions, and making the best of the chance that had given me a fellow-sufferer, in order to while away time. " Did you know that I was in prison, that you called me 1" " To be sure I did. I suspected as much when I did not see you return, and in order to be quite certain I questioned the porter, who ended by owning the truth." " And why have they put you in also ? and so late too 1" " Because, as we were going to the dormitory, I told the prefetto that he was an ass," A FELLOW-SUFFEBEK. 63 " Upon my word, if you have no worse lie on yonr con- science, I give you full absolution ; but liow came you to say so ?" " Oil ! for nothing . at all. The prefetto reported me to the vice-rettore, who _ desired me to beg pardon, which I did, after the following fashion, ' Mister Prefetto, I beg your par- don for having said you were only an ass, for certainly you ai-e both an ass and a clown.' " " That was a comical idea, upon my word. One night, however, is soon passed, and to-morrow you will be free, for this is not a place for princes." The slight irony of my tone seemed to annoy my companion very sensibly, and he answered in a voice of much emotion — " Alwa3'S prince ! is it my fault that I was born one ? I wish I were a common laborer, and then perhaps you would not have such a spite against me." " I protest I have no spite against you ; you lay too much stress upon a mere joke," returned I, moved in my turn by the ingenuousness of his words, and still more by the tone in which they were uttered. " Oh ! yes, you do hate me ; I may have deserved it for- merly ; I was wrong, I know I was : but now, when I do everything I can think of to make amends, it is really cruel of you to treat me with such disdain, and such suspicion." " I do assure you, you attribute to me feelings which I do not at all possess. If formerly " " I am not speaking of formerly," interrupted the prince, " I am speaking of now, of this very moment, when I am talking to you. Can you say that you do not distrust me 1 Do you think I am blind 1 do you think I do not know wTiat is going on 1 that was the very day fixed on for action ? but I am distrusted, I am treated like a coward or a spy." Wonder kept me silent. How could he be so well in- formed ? " And yet," continued the prince, bursting into tears, " I am neither the one nor the other. Nobody hates Anastasins more than I do ; and nobody, perhaps, if only a little confi- dence were placed in me, could give better help in putting him down." 64 LORENZO BENONI. I considered a minute, and then, " Look you," said I, in a gi-ave and solemn tone, " I do not consider you a coward or a spy ; indeed, I don't. If I have not shown you more confi- dence, it has not been from want of will, but that others were concerned. Tell me only that I may, and I will believe you upon your word." " If you may !" answered the prince ; " why, do you know from what motive I got myself put into prison V " Got yourself put in 1" " Yes, got myself put in prison deliberately, on purpose, without any provocation. Do you know why? that I might have an opportunity of opening my heart to you, of trying to deserve your confidence, of proving to you that I am not un- worthy of it." Astonishment, emotion, admiration, kept me dumb once more. " And mark," continued my interlocutor, " if to-morrow they come to let me out, without doing the same for you, if I don't refuse to stir out of my cell, even if I were to die in prison." School conspirators are of a kindly spirit, and at that happy age of frankness and enthusiasm no one guards against traps and pit-falls, which would argue a baseness and perversity of nature, the possible existence of which is not even suspected. It is only later, alas ! and in real life, that one learns to dis- trust unknown fellow-prisoners, whose business it may be to inspire with confidence, by a supposed similarity of suffering and danger, and then to take advantage of moments of out- pouring of the heart, to send one to the scaifold. Civilization at school was not so far advanced, and secret instigators and pumpers, pretended fellow-sufPerers, prison-confidants, and such like wonderful inventions of the modern art of governing, were things and names equally unknown with us. So that, far from suspecting a latent snare in these decided overtures of the prince, and overcome, moreover, by a trait of heroism which raised him immensely in my eyes, I felt my old grudge melt away under the warmth of his accents, and my heart open to the most entire confidence. A CONSPIEACY. 65 Perfect intimacy sprang up between us from th-at moment, and after some preliminary soothing explanations, I laid before the prince the whole of our plans, our resources, and views, while he in his turn detailed to me the means upon which he could depend, and which he put at my disposal. These means were his own personal co-operation and that of Barilli and another of his friends, of whom he was as sure as of himself. This brought our number to seven. A physical force so respectable, supported by the influence of our names thrown into the scale, was more than sufficient to crush the tyrant. Consequently we agreed to do without our allies in the first, and to achieve our own revolution unassisted — a tralj national revolution. We determined also to come to action, as soon as we should be restored to our division, only leaving time for the prince to inform his friends of the matter. Just as we were on the point of separating, after several hours' conversation, a feeling of distrust came into my mind. " One word more," said I, laying a meaning stress on each syllable, " to bring down the tyrant is not all, we must crush tyranny itself, and render its return impossible, and this can only be done by constituting Libekty." I think I had found the phrase in Tacitus. " With all my heart," returned the prince, yawning, " only I confess I do not know how to set about it. Manage things for the best yourself; I have an unlimited confidence in your wis- dom as in your intentions, and I will back you in everything, blindfold, and always." " What do you think of a republican government ?" insisted I. " Sparta, Athens, and Rome, owed to that their brightest days of glory and prosperity." " I think that whatever you do will be well done, and that is all I think about it ; but really I feel very cold — good night 1" " Good night." riattered, on the one hand, by the absolute confidence of the prince, but deploring, on the other, his utter want of gen- eral principle, I went and lay down on my bed. "After all," thought I, " Rome was not built in a day ;" and thereupon I fell asleep. 66 LOEENZO BENONI. CHAPTER VIII. EXPLOSION A LESSON TO TYRANTS. Next morning about ten o'clock an order came from high quarters for the prince's liberation and my own. My return to the division was a real triumph.. As I have already said, I was very popular among my companions, on account of my readiness to help them whenever there was a difficult task to be done, and therefore, if only in this respect, my absence be- came a sort of general calamity ; but on this occasion the dis- contented — and they were numerous, who felt instinctively that I was their leader, were of course glad to see me once more among them. On every side came congratulations, and warm shaking of hands, which I was not slow to return. As for Alfred and Frederic, they received me with tears in their eyes, and marks of veneration which I was at a loss to understand. Having attributed my disappearance to the dis- covery of our plans, they had looked upon me as nothing less than a martyr to liberty. I undeceived them in a few words, and told them to hold themselves in readiness at a moment's warning; but for further explanations, I put them off till the play-hour after dinner. At that hour, Alfred, the prince, and I, met in council, and the following morning was unanimously fixed upon for action. It was also agreed that each of the conspirators should receive gratis at breakfast (we three clubbed all our savings toward this patriotic expense) some of the choicest delicacies the town could afford. The greediness of Anastasius would infallibly be excited on seeing so many good things, a portion of which he would, of course, adjudge to himself. Here the opposition PLAN OF ATTACK. 67 was to begin. He among the conspirators to whom Anasta- sius should first address himself, was to protest, and resist to the utmost. All were to engage on oath to do so. This pro- cedure could bring no real danger to him on whom the lot might fall, since the prince, Alfred, and I, would be near, and would at once interpose. Above all things indispensable, were calmness and avoidance of untimely demonstrations. The conspirators were to await a signal from me to show them- selves, and have recourse to force if necessary, at the cry of " Dmcn with the tyrant !" Having thus concerted all our meas- ures, we separated. Alfred and the prince went to carry these instructions to the rest of our friends, while I remained alone, thinking of the mon-ow, and pacing slowly up and down the playground in the mood of Ctesar when about to cast the die for the world at Pharsalia. Motives of deep policy had determined me to fix the hour of breakfast for striking the grand blow. In the first place, I had calculated that at that moment, when the property of all was in danger, we should find a powerful auxiliary in the selfishness of each individual threatened in his goods. Sad necessity this, common to all conspirators, even to those at school, of having to seek their resting-point far more in the material interests of the multitude than in the noble conscious- ness of right ! Secondly, as the prefetti were in the habit at that hour of quitting their respective halls, without entirely losing sight of them, and of walking up and down the wide lobby into which the doors opened, I had settled in my mind to take advantage of the momentary absence of our prefetto, to carry through our affair without the fear of an untimely in- terruption on his part. The critical moment drew near. It was a dark, rainy morn- ing, and the aspect of our division assorted very well with that of the heavens. The severe and careworn faces of the conspirators, bespeaking a sleepless night and deep anxiety, wore an expression almost awful ; and either from the influ- ence of the atmosphere, or from the dismal glare of the lamps, mixed with the doubtful light of day, even the countenances of those who were not in the secret looked more grave and 68 LORENZO BENONI. thoughtful than usual. The sound of the rain pelting against the windows, alone broke the silence which, contrary to cus- tom, was religiously observed. At last the decisive hour struck. I cast one glance around upon my faithful band, answered by a responding look from each, which said that he was ready, and that I might rely upon him. In less than a minute the great basket which contained our breakfast was emptied, and each, carrying away his portion, returned to his desk. The prefetto went out of the hall. Anas- tasius, rubbing his hands with delight, began his rounds. His covetous gaze was riveted upon the wonders spi;ead out before his eyes, such as apples, pears, oranges, dates, almonds, and raisins, Bologna sausage, tablets of chocolate, butter, &c., &c., and he seemed only to hesitate from the difficulty of ma- king a decisive choice. The two satellites were, as usual, at his heels. " How now !" cried he, with a horse-laugh, " has one of you gained a prize in the lottery, that you feast in this way 1 Well," continued he, stopping before the desk of one of our band, " here are two oranges, such as I have hardly tasted in all my life. Now, they do tempt me ; but as I am a good fellow, we will share them between us, like good friends." " I am very sorry," answered the owner of the oranges, true to his word, "but you shall not taste these." — "Are you mad 1" returned Anastasius, " or do you want a little lesson V And so saying, he dexterously got hold of one of the disputed oranges, which the other boy endeavored in vain to cover with his hands and elbows. The despoiled one protested loudly ; it was time to interpose. I went straight up to Anastasius, followed by Alfred and the prince, who managed adroitly to put themselves between him and his satellites, so as to isolate him. My heart beat thick. " What do you mean by this violence ?" said I ; "by what right do you rob Francis of his property V The tyrant turned pale. "Is that any business of yours?" returned he, after some hesitation. " Certainly it is," replied I, " and I insist upon knowing by what right you take his orange from him." My persistance and my look of determination evidently intim- THE TYKANT IS CEUSIIED. bW idated Anastasius, who stood speecliless. " Yon take it by the right of force, eh 1" continued I in a tone of gnov^que tandem abutere, Catilina, "hut we will see if you are the strongest, sir ! Do you think that we will endure for ever your abomin- able violence 1 Is such your intention, gentlemen V (addres- sing the public). Some energetic "No, noes," were heard here and there. " As for me," cried I, raising my right hand, " I declare I will bear it no longer, and I say, ' Down with the tyrant!'" " Down with the tyrant !" roared six voices, with the precis- ion of a volley of musketry. " Down with the tyrant !" echoed almost unanimously the rest of the division, electrified by the example of the six. "Have done with this uproar!" grumbled the voice of the prefetto, appearing suddenly at the door ; but deceived by the apparent calm of the division, he turned away instantly. The tyrant, who had seemed overwhelmed by this outbreak among his subjects, gathered some courage during the short appearance of the prefetto. " What is the meaning of this comedy ?" asked he, with trembling lips and blanched cheek. " Take care," returned I, " that the comedy does not become a tragedy. Give Francis back his orange, I say !" " I will give back nothing." " By Jove ! we T\ill find a way to force you, though," an- swered I, exasperated ; and, suiting the action to the words, I* threw myself upon Anastasius, closely followed by Alfred and the prince. This was the signal for a frightful scufile. The whole division, like one man, fell upon Anastasius each, seek- ing to strike the hardest blow. " Help, Peter I help, John!" cried the tyrant in stifled accents. Peter and John, who per- ceived which way the wind set, like true acolytes of tyranny, deserted to the enemy. To the repeated calls of Anastasius, they answered with a laugh, " Here we are ! here we are !" and coming up with their bunch of cords, began to lay them thick upon the back of their former master. This desertion completely annihilated Anastasius. The re^ sistance which he had till then kept up against our attacks, gave way to the most complete submission. On his knees, 'JO LOKKNZO BENONI. with clasped hands, with floods of tears, he entreated mercy; he supplicated that his life might be spared ; and it was not without immense difficulty that, uniting our efforts, Alfred, the prince, and I, succeeded in putting an end to a scene equally disgusting, on the one hand, by the low cowardice of the van- quished, lately so insolent, and on the other by the merciless fiiry of those slaves of an hour ago, sixteen against one. It must be allowed, however, that the slaves had suffered long and cruelly. All this had happened in a shorter time than it has taken to relate ; so that when the prefetto, passing again before the door, cast a glance into our hall, the division had resumed its habitual appearance of order. Anastasius was sitting in his place, leaning his head against his desk, and sobbing ; but his depression and his tears, far from awaking any compassion in the breasts of the revolted, only gave rise to the most bitter jests and gibes. " I do believe he is crying," says one. " Oh !" returns another, " it is all make-believe, unless indeed he is crying for the orange." — " I'll tel^ you what it is," says a third, " the orange was not ripe, and has set his teeth on edge." — "Will your majesty please to accept this humble of- fering 1" says a fourth, with mock humility, kneeling on one knee, and then suddenly swallowing, amid the applause of the spectators, the slice of Bologna sausage he had just held under the nose of Anastasius. From other quarters came threats, insults, and bitter recrim- inations. " Cry away, monster, who made so many cry. What pity had you for me, when you had me flogged so cruelly 1" — _ " Where is the horse-laugh with which you answered the cries of your victims?" — "Oh, my good friend," exclaims another, " we have a little account to settle. Where is the penknife you stole from me?" — "Where is my new ball?" — "Where is my bottle of rosolio ?" — " Where is," &c. And thus a dozen voices succeeded each other with the rapidity of the blows of a hammer on the anvil. " I say," shouted the first, " what is to hinder us from taking back our property ?" — " Quite just !" repeated the rest ; and in one moment the whole crowd of claimants rushed toward the desk of Anastasius, who had just EIGHT BECOMES WEONG. 71 time to escape. True to my office of moderator, I strove to prevent this riotous outbreak, and, failing in tliis, to give it at least the character and the form of a regular vindication of property. My exhortations and my prayers were swept away by the over-boiling passions of the tumultuous throng, thirsting for vengeance. On the instant, the threatened desk was bro- ken open, and not only were the claimed articles taken out, but all that belonged to Anastasius — books, pens, papers, &c. — were torn to pieces, and ti'ampled upon. What could not be torn was flung out of the window. I mourned in silence over these acts of vandalism, and I learned for the first time, to my great mortification, that it is easier to excite popular tempests, than to arrest them in their course when once let loose. What I felt at this moment has more than once recnrred to my mind in after-life, while read- ing the histories of revolutions, and has given me the key to many a seeming contradiction and change, of which the lives of public men ofier such frequent examples in revolutionary times. Alas ! that we should ever find the abuse close upon the exercise of a right — license treading on the heels of lib- erty — evil by the side of good ; but such is mankind. When the bell rang that summoned us to church, I drew a long breath, and felt relieved. Anastasius would have a mo- ment's respite at last ; but I was mistaken. A new and worse torture was about to commence. We were no sooner on the staircase, than the terrible word was passed from the first to the last of the column, " Vinegar* of Anastasius !" To make vinegar of one, in school language, meant to shut him into a compact circle of boys, who pushed him, one from another, like a ball ; or to shove the victim against a wall, and fall upon him in a mass, at the risk of producing sufibcation. This last mode was decided on. Anastasius did not articulate a word — not a single groan escaped him during this new infliction, which, thanks to the prefetto's immediate interference, did not * After the juice of the grape has been pressed out to make wine, the remains of the frnit, fei-mented in a small quantity of water, are submitted to a much higher degree of pressure to express the moisture, of whioh vine- gar is made. The application of the comparison is obvious. 72 LOEENZO BBNONI. last an instant ; but lie must have suffered cruelly. His face was convulsed,' liis lips were white, and he tottered like a drunken man. His misdeeds were certainly great, but his ex- piation was truly awful. As, during the remainder of the tale of our school-days, we shall have no occasion to bring Anasta- sius again before the reader, we shall here shortly state what became of this unfortunately famous personage. For five successive days was he subjected to a constant repe- tition of the insults and tortures we have just described. All contact with him was avoided, as with one infected by the plague, except at those moments when he was to be martyr- ized. ., Those whose places were near him in the schoolroom, fppTtBS'^fel^i^r, and even in the dormitory, left them, and ^Ife^r^^'^f'^lKSt out to walk his only refuge was by the side of ''&f^^^^mr Nobody would allow himself to be sullied by the proximity of the pariah. During the play-hours he was exiled far from all human converse, either in one corner of the play-ground, or at his own desk in the schoolroom. Wo to him if he attempted to pass the line of demarkation, and to mix with his schoolfellows! There was, however, between them and him one sort of communication — that between mas- ter and slave ; for Anastasius was become the helot of the division, and every one had a right to order him about. "Anastasius, go fetch me my tambourine" — "Anastasius, wa- ter my garden" — "do this, do that;'' and he might reckon himself lucky when it was not thought necessary to stimulate his activity by blows. This, in our own division. Without, whenever there was momentary contact between the different sets, Anastasius was pointed at, scoffed at, insulted, and ill-treated by great and little, for even these last, emboldened by his abject state, would give him him a passing cut with a cord. At the end of these five days the boy was really scarcely recognisable ; you would have said, to see him so deadly pale and so thin, that he was just recovering from a six months' illness ; and yet no one felt the least pity for him, no one among the hundred boys except Alfred and myself. The superiors, of course, had taken his part, but in vain. EXPIATION. 73 Punishments inflicted npon some of the most riotous only- served to irritate the rest. In short, things came to such a pass, that one day — it was the fifth after his fall — in consequence of a terrible vinegar from the first and second divisions com- hined, the superiors saw it necessary to pretend to send him to prison, in order to save him from the popular effervescence. It was to the infirmary he was sent instead, where he remained two days confined to his bed, after which the father rettore begged his parents to come and fetch him, and keep him at home till the excitement against him in the school should have somewhat subsided. It was not till a month afterward that Anastasins reappeared, but gnantwn mutatus Pale, trembling, his eyes bent on the ground, h| the middle of the schoolroom, where we were* and where his father and mother, who stood on ^^S^ him, with tears in their eyes, asked pardon for him, of each and all of us, and enjreated the whole division to show him some indulgence, in respect of his sincere repentance. Through such a succession of suffering and humiliation it was, that Anastasius the proud, Anastasius the tyrant, had to pass ! May his example be at least a useful lesson to future school tyrants ! 4 74 LORENZO BENONI. OHAPTEE IX. A REPUBLICAN GOVERNMENT ESTABLISHED, AND A ROMAN TRIUMPH EXHIBITED. It will no doubt be remembered tbat the overthrow of ♦tyranny was but one half of the task which I had set myself, and was in fact looked upon by me only as a means of attaining a far greater and more desirable end^^ — the settlement of liberty on a broad and solid basis. I am not^ure that I had a very clear idea of what this might mean ; but these were fine sounding words, and lads of thirteen are apt to fall in love with words, and take them for things, which, as everybody knows, grown-up men never do. Even if this idea had not been long my darling dream, the frightful anarchy into which our division had been plunged, ever since the fall of Anastasius, would have been sufficient to awaken me to the necessity of some rule being laid down, and strictly observed. This, and this alone, in my opinion, could secure freedom, and guard our little community from the tyranny of many, or of one. For, even on this score, I confess I was not without my fears ; and the immense popu- larity the prince had acquired by the important part he had played- in our glorious revolution, combined with what I knew of him formerly, made me a little uneasy. It is but fair to add at once that in this I was completely mistaken, and that if the prince endangered public affairs, which he certainly did now and then, it was not through any views of personal ambition, but rather from mistaken zeal for the interests of liberty, which he was ever fancying in peril. The very day, then, following the departure of Anastasins, EKPUBLICAN EDUCATION. 75 having first agreed upon tlie plan with the prince and Alfred, I assembled the whole division, and laid raj ideas succinctly before them ; that is to say, the expediency, nay, the necessity of some fundamental law approved by all, and the establish- ment of a magistracy charged to see to the execution, and to the due respect of that law. My overtures were very favorably received, and when I threw out as a hint the words repuhlir, and consular autJiority, general and very marked assent fol- lowed. Emboldened by this first success, " let those," cried I, " who are for a republic, hold up their hands.'' All hands were raised as by common accord, there was not one dissenting voice ; and, upon a proposal from the prince, I was charged on the spot with the drawing up of the plan of a constitution, to be presented in the shortest possible time for the acceptance of the nation. Strange, but true. Public education in Piedmont — the part of all Italy, perhaps, most despotically governed at that time — was entirely republican. The history of Greece and Rome, the only thing taught us with any care at school, was in truth, according to the light in which it was placed, little else than a constant libel upon monarchy, and a panegyric upon the democratic form of government. The decline of Athens and of Sparta, happy and flourishing so long as they remained republics, dated from the day which gave power into a single hand. Eome- dated her greatness and power from the moment she expelled the Tarquins, and the great republic which had conquered the world, faded under the hands of the Caesars, failed to defend its conquests, allowed inroads, and at last vanished. Our indignation against tyrants, and our enthu- siasm even for their assassins, seemed to be purposely excited. The subjects given us for our themes in the classes were ever in this range of ideas. Sometimes we were to hurl the thunder of our Latin eloquence upon Oiesar about to pass the Eubicon ; and to prove, in an oration in three parts, with exordium and peroration, that it was the act of an unnatural son to smother the republic his mother. At others, Brutus, both the elder and the younger, Mutius Scajvola, Cato, etc., were to be deified in poetry. Thus, from our most tender years we were inspired 76 LORENZO BENONI. , with ideas and feelings quite opposed to those we ought to have brought into real life, and with a blind enthusiasm for actions and virtues, the imitation of which would be condemned and punished as a crime by the society in which we were to live. Now, was this not absurd 1 was it not wantonly sowing danger to be reaped in after-life 1 Elevated to giant height in my own estimation by the part of Lycurgus, with which my companions had intrusted me, and full of the deep responsibility of my task, I set to it in earnest, and it was not before a whole day and night of solemn meditation that I definitively settled my ideas ; and then an hour sufficed to lay upon paper a constitution, in eighteen articles, which I confess I thought a masterpiece. This masterpiece is lost — alas! irretrievably lost — at least the chief part of it. The infinite pains I have taken to find a copy have proved fruitless. The loss is the more painful to me, as, in our own times so many constitutions have been strung together — sworn one day, and forsworn and destroyed the next, then taken up again, to be again laid aside. Seeing all these various essays and attempts, I sometimes ask myself whether, perchance, mine was not that phcenix of a consti- tution, which people and governments have all been so long hunting after in vain 1 At any rate the comparison between the plan of a head of thirteen, and those of old heads, and big wigs, would not lack piquancy; but this is mere idle regret. I will just note here a few of the articles of my plan, which I happen to remember, though, I am sorry to say, they are not the most striking : — Art. 3. The national power resided in the whole division. This power was delegated, by the majority of votes, to two consuls, charged with the administration of justice, and the maintenance of liberty. ' i Art. 5. The power of the consuls was to last six months. They could not both be re-elected without an interval, but one might. (I protested at the time, and I still protest, against any imputation of personal motives in this clause — I do indeed.) Art. 16. Corporal punishment was abolished, as unworthy of free men. UNIVEKSAL SUFFRAGE AT WOEK. 17 Art. 18. Crimes against the res puhlica were punished by ostracism. The nation alone could pronounce this, upon the proposals of the consuls. The citizen under ostracism lost all civic rights, and was cut off from all intercourse with the rest of the community. My project was adopted by acclamation, and, on a motion of the prince, an article was added in these words — "All titles and denominations of nobility are, and shall remain abolished." This motion, dictated by the purest patriotism, brought shouts of applause to its author. After this incident, the nomination of the consuls took place at once. I was chosen unanimously, and the ex-prince, now simply Joseph, by fifteen votes out of nineteen. We at once named our two lictors, and our choice fell upon the two brothers, ex-satellites, as being the best qualified to cause our decrees to be re- spected. "We then returned thanks to the assembly in a few words, and upon our proposal it was agreed that the official installation of the new authority, and the oath to be taken to the constitution, to which some had thought of proceeding immediately, should be delayed for four days, that is, till the. following Sunday. It became, we said, the dignity of the division, to sm-round with all possible pomp and solemnity the inauguration of the new order of things, and the delay of four days was not too much to prepare a little national holyday, intended to celebrate an event which, transmitted from generation to generation, would be imperish- able and form an era in the annals of the college. The active bustle of our little republic from that moment can only be compared to that of a hive of bees. All heads and all hands were at work to realize a magnificent Roman triumph, of which happy idea I must take the entire credit to myself. Who can estimate the enormous quantity of wood, paste, pasteboard, gray, red, yellow, gold, and silver paper, con- sumed during these four days ? The school-room was turned into a work-shop, and the play-hours were those of our hardest lab*. One was making a cuirass, another a shield, a third was putting the finishing stroke to a helmet, a fourth was fashioning a sword. The musicians manufactured their instru- 78 LOEKNZO BENONI. ments ; the lictors prepared their fasces, and covered their axes with silver paper. Instead of following, step by step, the slow progress of these labors, let us view them at a glance in their majestic result. The following Sunday, then, at the play-hour after church, a long roll of drums announced the departure of the proces- sion, which put itself immediately in motion, and leaving the colonnade, under which it had just formed, came forth into the 6C[uare, round which it was to march. The entrance to this square was effectually defended by the vigilant prefetto ; but the numerous windows opening upon it were crowded with spectators from the other divisions, who received the column at its first appearance with loud hurrahs, and prolonged clap- ping of hands. It was headed by a band composed of a clar- ionet, a fife, a trombone, and a huge drum, playing warlike flourishes and military marches. When I say that all the instruments except the drum were made of pasteboard, and that, consequently, our newly-created musicians drew all their music from their own throats, you can imagine how exact, as regards time and tune, was the performance. Each wore a uniform of red paper, crossed upon the breast with large bands of gold-leaf, a yellow shako and white plume, and a sword by his side. Next came the lictors, with their fasces surmounted by shining axes. A long false beard, which fell to the breast, and an immense fur cap, which covered the head, gave them a most imposing aspect. A silver corselet, a sort of white apron hanging from the waist to just above the knees, and a short broadsword, of which the black scabbard came out in fine relief against the white ground of the apron, completed their costume. Then came, standing upright upon a sort of litter composed of rather ill-joined boards, and borne upon the shoulders of four citizens of equal height, the two consuls, whose steady equilibrium, and consequently their personal dignity, was frequently endangered by their inexperienced bearers. Our Boman costume showed some pretension to historic correct- ness, and I must say we had spared neither pain nor expense to attain that object. A wide-folding nankeen tunic, fastened round the waist by THE EOMAN TRIUMPH. 79 a black leather band, somewhat after the fashion of the modem blouse, fell to our calves, and over this tunic floated something that had originally been a blue serge bed-curtain, and was now, by the ingenious addition of a broad scarlet fringe sewed on its border, raised to the dignity of a toga. Our ai-ms and legs — this was the master-stroke — were naked, and these last surrounded by narrow bands of yellow leather, which imitated not amiss the ancient sandal. The magnificent helmet on our heads, and the broadsword which we brandished, were slightly at variance, it is true, with the rest of our peaceful apparel ; but how was it possible to resist the temptation these articles offered, when we saw nothing on every side but dresses re- splendent with silver and gold ? As a sort of corrective, how- ever, of these warlike attributes, we wore round our helmets a wreath of olive, and the blades of our swords were entwined with garlands of oak-leaves. Two enormous white flags, fastened to each side of the litter, formed a sort of majestic canopy above our heads. Upon one was painted a,fascis, with this motto in golden letters, " Union makes strength ;" upon the other, two hands intertwined, with the words, " Eepublic, fraternity." The six boys who followed in the rear, and closed the procession, were remarkable for the richness of their cuirasses of gold and silver, and still more so for the great variety of their head-gear, such as Spanish caps with gold bands and white plumes, cocked hats with wide gold lace, helmets, shakos, etc. Alfred especially, in a com- plete light-cavalry uniform, red shako and gold epaulettes, with an immense broadsword in his hand, excited on his way the general admiration. When the cortege had marched round the square, and returned to the point from which it had started, there was a halt. The triumphal car of the consuls was set down, the lictors stood on each side, and the whole body ranged them- selves in a semicircle round the supreme magistrates. I then began to read the articles of the constitution, to which the ex-prince and I were the first to swear obedience. Succes- sively as the name of each was called over, the citizens came forward toward us, to take the oath of obedience to the law. 80 LOEENZO BENONI. and of allegiance to the elect of the nation ; which done, each received from ns a fraternal embrace. After this cere- mony, the procession moved o<' again in the same order as before, to the cries, a hundred "times repeated, of " Grod save the republic! God save our consuls!" to which responded the cries of the numerous spectators at the windows, waving white handkerchiefs in token of joy. In the meantime the musicians struck up brilliantly Eossini's " Tanti palpiti." En- thusiasm was at its climax, all eyes glistened with emotion. At last, after having once more marched roxmd the square, the procession passed under the' colonnade, and there separated in the greatest order. In the evening there was a general illumination of the two windows belonging to the school-room of the second division, and a distribution of ices at the expense of the consuls. So ended a day for ever memorable among the traditions which are still preserved fresh and living in the college. OUR PKEFETTO. DON SILVKSTBO. 81 CHAPTER X. GIVES A SKETCH OP DON SILVESTRO, AND SHOWS HOW LITTLE CAUSES CAN PRODUCE GREAT EPPECTS. In spite of a few acts of insubordination, quite unimportant in themselves, but whicli used to exasperate my ardent tem- pered colleague, who saw conspiracies everywhere, and breathed nothing but ostracism ; in spite of some occasional trifling whims of opposition, which the ex-prince looked upon as crimes of high treason, and would have punished as such, while gentleness and persuasion more easily overcame them ; in spite, I say, of these slight stumbling-blocks, things went on capitally in our division, which, after so many agitations, was beginning to enjoy the benefit of the free institutions it had given itself now more than a month since, when an inci- dent occurred which, although merely personal to me, and therefore of slight importance in itself, had, alas ! in its final results, the most disastrous effects upon the destinies of our young establishment — so true it is that the slightest cause may sometimes produce the most serious consequence ! I have hitherto delayed introducing to the notice of the reader the prefetto of our division, lest my account of him should appear almost incredible. As we are presently to see him at work, I trust that the not very flattering character which I am compelled to give him will be deemed amply jus- tified by its own doings. The prefetto- of our division was an ugly, dirty, round-bellied priest, with a large red nose covered with carbuncles, which might have rivalled that of Shakspere's Bardolph, and two little savage eyes bright with malice. Such, in two words, 4* S2 LOEENZO BENONI. ■was Don Silvestro. (The titlfe of Don is given in Italy to all the clergy.) Scarcely able to read his breviary, knowing no language but the dialect of his mountains, bis profound igno- rance, which he himself could not help being aware of, joined to natural and instinctive malignity, kept him in a constant state of hostility toward a s.et of youths whose superiority humbled him, and disposed him to see an insult in any expres- sion, the meaning of which his thick skull could not catch. But this sort of latent ill-will transformed itself into open war- fare and frightful violence, whenever he chanced to be seized with a fit of a, kind of malady, which we did not know how to define, and which was nothing less than decided melancholy madness. I suspect, for my part, that these fits were, if not occasioned, at least aggravated, by excess in drinking, as there was always about him, on such occasions, a strong smell of spirits. His fixed idea in these fits was, that we were deter- mined to have his life. Sometimes he fancied we, had poisoned his wine ; at others he declared there was a plot to murder him during his sleep. I remember that one day he saw a menace of death to him in a red cross which I had most innocently painted on my desk. Another time he had one of my school- fellows sent to prison, as guilty of having sharpened a pen- knife with the intention of cutting his (the prefetto's) throat. This unfortunate man died a few years afterward in a mad- house, raving in his last moments of nothing but poison and daggers. It was to such a man that the care and education of twenty young people of good family were confided. The thing appears incredible, yet such is the fact. It is not easy to imagine all we had to suffer from the humors of Don Silvestro, especially during his paroxysms — punishments inflicted at hap-hazard, and at every moment — false accounts to the superiors, which frequently caused us to be put on bread and water — besides the blows he showered on us thick as hail. The slightest observation, a second's hesitation in bending to his caprice, threw him into absolute fury ; books, keys, inkstands, the first thing, in short, that came under his hand, would he hurl at our heads. One day, in the play-ground, he flung at me a AN UNLUCKY JOKK. 83 wooden bowl, heavy enougi, had it reached me, to have killed me on the spot. Without any exaggeration, it is with me a matter of wonder that none of us was killed or maimed. One afternoon, when I had just finished a sonnet on the death of Hannibal, of which I had only to make a fair copy, I went up to the prefetto's desk, to ask him for a sheet of white paper. This writing-paper, of which the prefetto had the daily distribution, was of such bad quality, that it was more fit, in truth, to wrap up sugar-plums than to be written upon. Meaning in perfect innocence to make a pleasant, harmless joke, " Please, Mr. Prefetto," said I, " will you be so good as to give me a sheet of that beautiful vellum paper ?" No sooner had I pronounced these words, than the savage — God forgive him ! — mistaking in his stupidity the word vellum, for villian (rascally) answered me by such a stunning slap in the face, that literally a thousand sparks flashed in my eyes. The fit of rage which seized me at this treatment no words can express ; suffocation took from me at first the use of speech, which I no sooner recovered than I burst into the most violent torrent of invectives, throwing into the face of the priest appel- lations, the mildest of which were, ass, hrute, and ruffian! " Go on your knees," cried the irritated prefetto. " I wo&'t," answered I, no less exasperated. " We'll see as to that," returned he, catching me violently round the waist ; but I had just time to grasp one of the large desks which stood along the school-room, and Don Silvestro only succeeded in dragging me a few steps, and the desk along with me. Seeing he could not manage the thing in that way, he bethought himself of other means, and, in order to make me let go my hold, began to strike violently upon my hands with the key. But he had thus no better success ; for, as he could not beat both hands at once, so he could only make me loose one, while I held on firmly with the other, but never with both at once. Already my hands were bruised and bleeding, and pain drew from me smothered groans, when the vice-rettore entered. Don Silvestro instantly stated the case, of course suppressing all mention of the more than brutal provocation he had given. " On your knees," roared out the vice-rettore, " on your knees, 84 LORENZO BENONI. in the lobby." — On my knees in that lobby into which opened all the school-rooms — 1 to be thus set before the whole com- munity — I, a prince, a consul!! No, never; death before dishonor ! But alas ! the combined efforts of my two execu- tioners soon tore me away from my protecting desk, and dragged me into the middle of the passage. Between accom- plishing this, however, and forcing me to bend my knees, they found a great difference. In vain did they try to do so by pulling my legs, or by pressing with their whole weight upon my shoulders, some how or other, there I was, still bolt upright. At last the prefetto, rendered frantic by my resistance, seized me by the collar, and flung me violently toward the opposite wall, against which my face struck with full force. The shock was so tremendous that I fell senseless ; when I recovered I found myself stretched on the ground, bathed in blood, which flowed abundantly from my nose. I was suffering dreadful tingling pain in my face, with a burning and intolerable sense of tension. The prefetto and the vice-rettore were stooping over me, and endeavoring to raise me. The sight of them, much more than the pain I felt, restored me to my full feeling of rage. To rise, pass the lobby at one bound, leap down two staircases, apd rush like a rocket into the middle of the father rettore's room, was all done in a second. " Send for my mother, I'll go away instantly — my mother, I will have my mother!" these words, broken by sobs, cries, passionate stamp- ing, and imprecations, were the ojjly explanation I gave of my suddep apparition. At sight of the blood with which I was covered, and of the wild expression of my face, which was already very much swelled, the poor old man remained for a moment stunned and speechless ; then coming toward me with a hurried step, he forced me with gentle violence to sit down, and, with tears in his eyes, and a trembling voice, he began to talk to me with such kindness, such tenderness, that I was moved, and pres- ently my increasing emotion found vent in tears, which were an immense relief. This enabled me to give a short and faith- ful account of what had passed, to which the father rettore listened with the deepest interest. He then persuaded me to I MUST HAVE MY MOTHER. 85 follow him to the infirmary, where he had me put to bed, and himself helped the assistant in washing my face, and in ap- plying to the swellings poultices of some soothing decoction. Disarmed hy this touching and paternal care, I let him do what he would with a good grace, and listened with docility to all he chose to say to me respecting the danger of giving way to anger ; but I insisted no less on seeing my mother. She was, in fact, sent for. She came next morning, and was dreadfully shocked at my bruised and swollen face. I related to her my misfortune with many tears, and expressed my firm determination to leave school. Contrary to my expectation, my mother made no objection (not that I supposed she would make any of her own accord, bless her !). She observed only that she must first of all know how matters stood, and for this purpose see the father rettore. The result of her conversation with himj and it was a long one, proved consonant with my wishes. The following day my mother came for me in a car- riage, which took us to a country-house she possessed a short way out of town. The satisfaction of having carried my point, the novelty of the scene, the balmy air, the full and entire liberty I enjoyed, all conspired to throw me for a time into a sort of intoxication of happiness. At the end of a week I should have entirely forgotten my late mischance, if a large, livid spot over my right eye had not reminded me of it. Nevertheless, my entire solitude — for neither my father nor any of my brothers had appeared — began to hang heavy upon me, and I often thought with regret of poor Alfred, of our young republic, and of the prizes I might have had, and should not get. In short, by the end of another week, I was steeped in ennui, and completely miserable. My mother came to me in one of my moments of depression. " Well, my child, what do you say to going back to college, seeing Alfred again, and winning that host of prizes which you have but to reach out your hand in order to ob- tain 1" I went through the form of resisting a little at first, but ended by yielding ; on condition, however, that at the end of the scholastic year, which would be in little more than two months, I should be taken altogether from school. There 86 LOEENZO BENONI. could be no difficulty about that, for, as I afterward learned, the thing had been settled long before at headquarters, and my younger brother was to take my place. On the very evening of the day on which this conversation had been held, I returned to college. As I crossed the thresh- old of the schoolroom I received a most satisfactory impres- sion. Don Silvestro was no longer there (he had been sent away), and his desk was occupied by a new face. I was in- tensely delighted at this. I had at least been the instrument of some good to my comrades — that was a comfort ; but alas ! in what a state of confusion, or rather of utter dissolution, did I find that establishment, which I had left so flourishing, so fall of promise, only a fortnight before ! Its ruin was owing to the excessive severity of Joseph, the ex-prince. Vainly had Alfred, named consul in my stead, endeavored to moder- ate the vehemence of his colleague. It was a sort of mania with the boy : for the slightest offence he invariably adjudged ostracism as the punishment. In short, things had come to such a pass, that the numerical majority of the company (such an absurdity seems scarcely credible) — the numerical majori- ty, I say, lay under ostracism. The exiles then established a counter-government, named their own consuls, and deposed the former ones, who, along with their adherents, still held out. Civil war was thus, as it were, organized, and at any moment a collision might be dreaded between the two sections. All these details were given me by Alfred with tears in his eyes. " We have no hope but in you," added he ; " you alone can save us." This intelligence threw me into a state of consternation ; and, even to this day, I can not tell whether I could have found within me sufficient determination and energy for the herculean task of setting, or rather of trying to set things a little to rights, when, at the very moment I was debating in my own mind the pros and cons of such an attempt, the father ministro came into the schoolroom, and made known to the prefetto that, by order of the father rettore, Mr. Lorenzo and Mr. Alfred were to pass from the second division to the first. The father rettore, who was aware of the tender friendship PEOMOTION. 87 which bound me to Alfred, had detennined not to separate us ; for which kind attention I felt in my heart profoundly grate- ful. This promotion could not have come more opportunely, for it took me out of a terrible puzzle. We made a bundle of our books and papers, shook hands with our late companions, and five minutes afterward we were settled in' the schoolroom of the first division, the members of which received us with marked sympathy and cordiality. £8 LORENZO BENONI. CHAPTEE XI. SOME NEW CHARACTERS INTRODUCED THE FIRST DIVISION REBELS, AND CARRIES ITS POINT. I WAS very tappy and very busy. Besides my every-day tasks, I had to prepare for the examinations, which were to take place in a month. Moreover, I had to write a grand com- position in blank verse, which I was to recite at the next dis- tribution of prizes, and to finish a large pencil-drawing, which was to be exhibited on the same occasion. Add to all this, that as I had a good ear and an agreeable voice, I had been chosen as tenor in a cantata for three voices, to be sung at the same solemnity. So that every day I spent one or two hours studying my part with the music-master, who made me learn it by heart, for I could not read the notes. Thus agreeably occupied, on very good terms with all my comrades, my dear Alfred by my side, with the prospect of a whole harvest of prizes, and of shortly leaving school — truly I had nothing to wish for ; and I looked upon the incessant agitations of the second division with the somewhat selfish feeling described by the poet, of a man who from the shore contemplates a vessel in the offing beaten by the tempest. I had never been so happy. Who could have guessed, alas ! that, in the midst of this deceitful calm, I was on the eve of a crisis, one of the most painful in my life ! The play-ground of the first division looked, on the southern side, over a yard full of rotten timber and rubbish, among which sported innumerable rats, to which we used to throw bread and fruit. The sight of these animals developed, it would seem, in one of our schoolfellows, named Vadoni, the organ of rat- DEOEITKUL CALM THE VICE-EETTOItE. 89 hunting. First, he declared war against them by pelting them with stones ; then he tried to fish them up by means of a hook fastened to a piece of pack-thread. At last he took it in his head to make a sort of rat-trap, which he used to let down every day into the yard by a cord j and you might have seen Vadoni standing for hours together, on the same spot, and watching the slightest motions of the nimble tenants of the yard, with a degree of patience, or rather with an inten- sity of interest, worthy of a better cause, and rarely rewarded by success. Truly that rat must have sinned greatly, or fasted long indeed, who could have allowed himself to be caught in such an awkward trap. It was a rare, yet not unprece- dented case ; and just a fortnight after my entrance into the first company, as chance, or rather my ill luck would have it, an ill-starred rat happened to be taken. These captures were an event for the whole set, inasmuch as they afforded occasion to a barbarous sport ; for, to the shame of the civilization of the college be it said, the poor prisoners were consigned to an auto-da^ — that is to say, first besmeared with turpentine, and then*set fire to and left to run free, to the great amusement of the bystanders. Well, then, on the day of the capture I have just mentioned, at a signal given by the bell, we formed our ranks, two-and- two, as usual, and marched toward the schoolroom, Vadoni carrying his rat-trap on his shoulder as a trophy. We had to pass through a narrow, dark passage leading to the broad one we have more than once had occasion to mention. In this first passage we met the vice-rettore, who stopped to see us file off before him. The vice-rettore was a strange being, or rather there were in him two distinct and quite different be- ings. The vice-rettore of the morning was a pale, taciturn, grave, and even melancholy man. The vice-rettore of after- dinner (the dinner-hour of the reverend fathers was one o'clock) underwent a complete transformation, that is to say, not only in his humor, but even in his external appearance. With lustrous eyes, and high-colored cheeks, the vice-rettore became brisk, talkative, and full of tricks. One of his favor- ite tricks — I regret it was not in better taste — was this : when 90 LOKKNZO BKNONI. he- chanced to meet a company moving along, he would stop as if to see it pass, then all of a sudden, seizing a propitious moment, he would fling out his leg and give a good kick to some pupil in the rear, who might not be on his guard. As this way of his was very well known, from the moment the vice-rettore's blacjs gown was seen to loom in the distance, every one was on the alert, and all passed before the worthy father, looking out carefully, and under visible anxiety. This sort of terror, which he excited on his passage, seemed to amuse the good man vastly, and to add a certain zest to his jocularity. It happened that the storm on this day was to fall upon poor Vadoni. He was watching the monk closely out of the corner of his eye, and, perceiving a suspicious movement, made a sud- den start to avoid what it portended. In so doing, he let slip the rat-trap he was carrying on his shoulder, which opened as it fell. Quick as lightning out darted the prisoner, and struck slap against the vice-rettore's face, who, either from the vio- lence of the blow, or in consequence of the surprise, fell back- ward at full length upon the floor. All this passed in less than ten seconds. We roared with laughter at the mischance of the jocular father, and thought he had only got what he de- served. A quarter of an hour afterward Vadoni was sent for by the father rettore. The bell rang for school, and Vadoni did not appear ; in due course the play-hour came, and we returned to ihe play-ground. Vadoni was still absent. Supper-time was near, and still no Vadoni. There could be no further doubt : he must be in prison. From that moment the greatest excite- ment prevaile^n the whole set. "It is an injustice — an in- famous injust^ : we can not put up with it !" We gathered together in a large, group to deliberate. Several proposals were thrown out without leading to any conclusion. " Let us send a deputation to the father rettore," cried a voice. No one seemed anxious to form part of this deputation, as no one supported the motion. Only Sforza, who had remained silent till then, shrugged his shoulders, saying, " Nonsense !" Sforza, whom we have had occasion to mention once in the A BOEN LEADER. 91 course of this history, had emerged from his insignificance, and acquired a sudden degree of importance by an act of cour- age well worthy of being mentioned. One day his prefetto in a rage had threatened him with corporal punishment. Sforza calmly drew out his penknife, saying, in an attitude of firm expectation, " Come on, if you dare !" The determined bearing of the youth had awed the priest, who desisted from his threat, and from that day Sforza was considered as the most spirited fellow of our set. , The general excitement went on increasing; there was a vast expenditure of talk and gesture without any result, when Sforza began thus — "Of what use is talking? You are like the rats who would fain have put a bell round the neck of the cat, but did not know how. Fewer words and more action. Will you trust to me 1 I warrant that within two hours Vadoni shall be restored to the company." " But how 1" exclaimed a dozen voices. " It don't signify how-ing, what we want is to have back Vadoni, and words won't give him to us. Once more, will you trust to me, and do as I bid you V The boy had never made so long a speech in his life. It is said that in times of revolution strong and energetic natures find their place, and assume command as their inhe- rent right; and it is certain that at this moment each of us felt the superiority of Sforza, and acknowledged in him our legitimate leader in the coming crisis. He looked really fine, and his brown features, animated as they were, breathed energy and resolution. Each gave him a hand in token of assent and promise, and two messengers were forthwith despatched to the second and third divisions, with a strict injunction implicitly to follow the example of the first. The bell for supper rang. We had just taken our seats in the refectory, when the vice-rettore, who habitually presided at our meals, made his appearance, and a volley of hisses and groans rose from our table. The second and the third faith- ful to their orders, sent forth a loud echo, and even the lower companies, from a spirit of imitation, joined in the uproar. The vice-rettore became as red and angry as a turkey-cock, 92 LOBENZO BENONI. and ordered " silence !" Tresli gtoans, fresh hisses, mixed •with cries of "Where is Vadoni ?" — "We'll haveVadoni!" broke forth from every comer of the refectory, and drowned the words of the incensed superior. The tumult and disorder continued without intermission. The voice of the lecturer (it was the custom during the first part of the repast for one of the pupils so termed to read aloud, and silence was absolutely required, his voice, I say), was lost amid a roar of loud talking in the whole community. The poor fellow wasted his breath in vain. At last he stopped, threw a piteous look at the father vice-rettore, as much as to say, " You see that it's all labor lost," shut the book, and came down from the reading- desk, The defection of the lecturer was saluted by a univer- sal shout of laughter, and cries of "Well done ! — well done ! — Down with the tyrant ! — Hurrah for Vadoni ! — We'll have Vadoni !" As a means of cutting short the disturbance, the vice-rettore bethought himself of shortening supper, and made haste to give the signal of retreat by saying grace before the time. The lower companies rose as usual, at this sign, but the first protested, and remained seated at table, crying, " We have not supped!" — " Vadoni, Vadoni !" The second and third did the same. The two inferior ones, who had already risen, resumed their seats. The baffled superior tried an act of au- thority ; he seized one of our set by the collar, and endeavored to pull him from his seat by force. The whole company rose as one man, and ran to the rescue of the comrade thus at- tacked. A regular struggle ensued between the vice-rettore, seconded by our prefetto, and the whole first division, supported by the second and third. ' The two priests were soon worsted, pushed by the ever-increasing flood of pupils toward the en- trance, and finally driven out of the refectory, the door of which was shut upon them. Eemaining thus masters of the field, we celebrated our victory by frantic hurrahs, without thinking any more of the supper. Everybody was too much excited to think of eating. Ten minutes later, the door opened again, and the father ministro entered. This looked like another victory ; the vice- REBELLION. 93 rettore dared not sliow his face. Yet, as there was nothing menacing in the aspect of the father ministro, he met with no hostile reception. He did not say one word. After waiting a few moments he began to chant the grace, to which more or less decently the responses came. The divisions formed them- selves two and two, and filed off, the first as usual taking the lead. The door of the refectory opened upon the play-ground of the second company, in which has passed the principal part of the events we have recounted in this history. On the right hand of the refectory door was a staircase leading to the upper story, in which were situated the school-rooms and dormitories. Instead of turning to the right in the direction of the staircase, at a word of command from Sforza our company turned to the left, and scattered itself in the wide-spreading play-ground. The divisions that followed did in like manner, and all the sets, mingling into one great body, began to march round the square, vociferating, yelling, howling, and hissing. The pre- dominant cry was ever, " Vadoni, we'll have Vadoni ! — down with the vice-rettore !" The scene of tumult and confusion baflSes all description. The father ministro, the prefetti, the servants each carrying a light, rushed from side to side, bawl- ing, entreating, gesticulating, like men possessed. Here and there they would pull away some chance-isolated pupil, and try to make him a rallying point, but as fast as they brought in some new recruit, the former escaped, so that they had to begin anew. It was really like the work of the Danaides. Each column of the cloister furnished a hiding-place, and fa- vored the manoeuvres of the runaways. Truly it was a new kind of coursing, and who knows when it might have ended ; but that, after an hour, the sport became monotonous and tire- some, so that, out of mere weariness, the companies formed anew by degrees, and of their own accord made their way up stairs to the dormitories. Now, we had lost our faithful auxiliaries, and we had but our own resources to depend upon in order to carry on the agitation, and bring it to a result in the liberation of Vadoni. '' He who goes to bed before Vadoni is given back to us is a coward," cried Sforza, who diirine the exercise of his general- 94 LOEENZO BENONI. ship had proved himself well worthy of the chief command. This little devil was seen everywhere, and always in the fore- most line, incessantly animating the rest by word and example. It was then a settled point that nobody should go to bed; but something must be done to kill time. Sforza organized a march, with military step, up and down the dormitory. We marched four abreast, mimicking the flourishes of trum- pets, and every now and then stopping to roar out, " Vadoni, we'll have Vadoni !" However, the whole night could not be passed in this amusement, and I do not know whether we should not have ended by going quietly to bed, if no one had interfered. In truth, the only reasonable plan would have been to let the fire spend itself, and I can not conceive how the masters did not adopt this expedient. As I have hinted, a sort of languor was beginning to creep over the agitators, when the father ministro took up the unlucky idea of coming to try and do something. His appearance had the effect of a barrel of oil thrown upon only half-extinguished embers. Howling, scream- ing, cries of "Vadoni," all began again worse than ever., A sort of fury seized all minds. Suddenly Sforza caught hold of the coverlets of his bed, and flung them into the middle of the dormitory. The other pupils followed his example. After the covering came the pillows, then the mattresses. An enor- mous heap of bedding thus arosS in the middle of the room. What was the object of this operation? It had none. It was said afterward, and the superiors accredited the report, which had taken root in the college as a tradition of terror, that our intention was to set fire to the bedding. No such thing. Neither Sforza nor any of the rest uttered a word, or had the remotest idea, connected in the slightest degree with so rash a deed. It is possible, nay, even probable, that a fear of this sort may have crossed the mind of the prefetto, who left the dormi- tory some time after, and very likely went to communicate his apprehensions on the subject to the superiors. It is certain, however, that nobody thought of burning anything, and that the sole object we had in view was to do something, and to be as unruly and disorderly as possible. AUTHORITY IS VANQUISHED. 95 The prefetto left us, as I have said, and a sort of lull ensued. Every one was worn out; every one felt, besides, that a crisis was approaching, that is to say, that things had been pushed far enough to call for the intervention of that dreaded power, which was unwilling to show itself except when there was a dignus vindice nodus. Each was, therefore, collecting courage for the decisive trial. The greater number of the set were seated, each on the side of his own bedstead, awaiting in silence what was to ensue. Our expectation was not deceived. Soon was heard in the distance that piercing voice which had never commanded in vain. The man, before whom every will bowed, all resistance yielded, was at hand. " Courage !" said Sforza, " let us re- ceive him like the rest, and Vadoni is ours." The old monk entered, having on his right the vice-rettore, and the father ministro on his left. There was a movement in the room. Some pupils, by the force of long habit, rose in token of respect. Some voices, that of Sforza clearly heard above all others, cried out, " Vadoni, we'll- have Vadoni ;" but they were an insig- nificant minority. " Silence !" thundered the terrible voice, " who dares to utter a word in my presence ?" A pause — universal silence. " What is the meaning of all this 1 No one loills here but I. Enough of this scandalous riot. Immediate and entire sub- mission can alone secure pardon for those who have been led astray. As to the ringleaders " At this critical moment, the lamp which lighted the dormitory, struck by some ponderous projectile, fell broke* into shivers, and went out. Darkness restored courage to the timid. Cries, stamping, groans, recommenced more violently than ever. The iron bedsteads were set jogging, which made a frightful clatter. No means of making one's self nfeard. The blow which had extinguished the lamp bad se«ired victory for the rebellious. Authority was vanquisjied. We remained in the dark about a quarter of an hour. When light was brought, we beheld Vad.oni coming in, half asleep, and seeming to understand notliir(^»of what was going on about him. " Three cheers for Vadoni !" We hoisted him on a 96 , LOBENZO BENOin. chair, and carried him in triumph round the dormitory. This done, each fished out of the heap of bedding wherewithal to make his bed, and ten minutes later silence and sleep reigned within those walls, which had recently resounded with such deafening noise. IMI'AVIDUM FERIKNT EOIN^. 97 CHAPTER XII. THE TABLES TURNED DAMON AND PYTHIAS, TRIUMPHAL EXIT FROM SCHOOL. The moment of awaking after having committed some great folly, is very disagreeable. This we experienced on the follow- ing morning. My conscience, I confess, was far from easy, and the reflections of my comrades, to judge from their long faces, must have been anything but cheerful. While we were still dressing, the father vice rettore came into the dormitory, and took the prefetto aside : they had a long confabulation together. At the end of the conversation, the prefetto went out, and the vice-rettore remained in his stead. Without being a conjuror, it was easy to guess that the prefetto had been sent for to give some information touching the rebellion of the preceding evening. There was evidently a storm in the air. I whispered as much to Sforza as we entered the Schoolroom together. " Well, they won't hang us !" replied he. Most likely not — that was a consolation. The vice-rettore looked big and fierce. The prefetto came back after an absence of about an hour, and the vice-rettore left. There was an awful solemnity in the aspect of the pre- fetto. We dared not breathe. Ten minutes had scarcely elapsed, when the vice-rettore returned, followed by a servant. " Vadoni," said he, frowning, " leave your place." Vadoni came forward, as white as a sheet. The servant, upon a sign from the monk, emptied Vadoni's desk of his books and papers, and made a bundle of them. We all knew what that meant. The poor boy, no doubt, thought himself under the influence of nightmare. 5 98 LORENZO BENONI. Poor Vadoni ! if ever there was an innocent being unjustly condemned, it was surely he ! Not only was he free from all reproach, but he was one of the candidates for the prize of good behavior, alias the prize of the geese. The superiors ought to have gone down on their knees, and begged pardon for the hours of imprisonment unjustly inflicted on him, and they expelled him ! But Vadoni's crime was having served as a standard, and schools also have their reasons of state — a plague on it, the more the pity ! After Vadoni, it was Sforza's turn. No change came over his brow; his countenance did not betray the least emotion, only in the corner of his mouth lurked a curl of defiance. There was the stuff of a man in that boy ! The hour which followed these two executions appeared to us very long; it passed in a state of anxiety impossible to be described. Breakfast came, however, without further incident. The bell rang for school, and we began to breathe more freely. Just as I was going into school I was told that the singing- master had come, and that I was to go and take my lesson. It lasted unusually long, and by the time it was ended the boys were returned from the classes to the school-room, where I joined them. Alfred was not in his place. A giddiness came over me. Could it be that he had been expelled 1 I ques- tioned my neighbor, and learned from him that Alfred, during the class, had been sent for by the father rettore, and had not reappeared. This intelligence, as may well be supposed, did not lesson my anxiety. Under some pretext, I went to Alfred's desk ; his books and papers were there. This circumstance somewhat reassured me. But, at each minute that elapsed, my anxiety returned, and became more and more intense. I was really at a loss what to think and what to do, when one of my companions, who had been out to the dressing-room to try on a new coat, came in, and showed me from a distance, unseen by the prefetto, a folded paper, upon which he wrote some words. This paper, passed from hand to hand, soon reached me. It bore no address. On the outside were these words, "Given me by Alfred, whom I met in the dressing-room." DEA.a boy! 99 I opened the note precipitately. It contained what follows, written in pencil : — " I am expelled. I could not do otherwise than confess that it was I who broke the lamp. I hope that no one will cast a doubt upon my truth. Don't vex yourself about me. I can easily pacify my father. Yours ever. "Alfred." In order to understand this note, some little explanation is necessary. The reader will, no doubt, remember the incident which, on the night of the disturbance, cut short the speech of the father rettore, and gave the victory to rebellion, I mean the breaking of the lamp which lighted our dormitory. Well — in all humility I confess it — I was the author of the deed ! The instrument I had made use of was a shoe, the first thing that came under my hand. My bed and Alfred's being close to each other, the shoe of which I made a projectile, as my evil star would have it, belonged to him: Some one, most likely the prefetto, had picked it up, as evidence for the inquest. As soon as Alfred, when called before the father rettore, had his \shoe presented to him, he instantly understood that the only means of saving me was to adopt the misdemeanor, and, dear boy ! he had not hesitated to sacrifice himself for me. Alfred's note was a thunderbolt to me. His devotion called up all the generous instincts of my nature. I did not hesitate in my turn. I rushed instantly to the father rettore's room. "Father, it was I who broke the lamp. Alfred is innocent. Punish me, for I deserve it ; but it were unjust that the inno- cent should suffer for the guilty." The father rettore did not probably expect such a compli- cating occurrence. He was highly provoked, and could not restrain a burst of impatience. "What is the meaning of this?" cried he, rising and striking the table violently; "is authority become a mockery, that the credit of a bad deed is to be contended for ? Your wishes shall be gratified, sir," and he lifted his hand to seek the bell. But it stopped half way, and then returned to its former position. The father rettore resumed his seat, and continued in these words : — "Thank my 100 LOEEXZO BENONI. forbearance, sir, for allowing this unpleasant incident to pass without further notice. Eeturn to your studies. I am not the dupe of your would-be Pythias-like sacrifice. Alfred has confessed, and Alfred is consequently punished. Justice is satisfied. You may contrive to be lost with him, but you can not save him. His expulsion is irrevocable." I began to stammer out some observation. "Silence!" thundered the father, " I do not choose to hear. I do not choose to know any more. We sought one of the guilty ; we have found him. Do not force me to give a cause of affliction to your mother. Go, I say!" What could I do but obey? I obeyed. "Was the incredulity of the father rettore with respect to my culpability real or assumed ? The time of the examinations and the distribution of prizes, was fast approaching, as I have already said, and on both these occasions I was destined to come off with considerable honor to myself — honor which would naturally be reflected back upon the establishment. The next who, in case, of my absence, would have made the best figure, was a day-scholar, who held the first place after me in the classes. Now, the reverend fathers did not much j like that the day-scholars should outshine their boarders. Had these considerations any weight in determining the conduct of the father rettore toward me ? I merely lay the question be- fore the reader, leaving it to his sagacity to decide the point This is certain, that when he expressed the wish to spare my mother sorrow, he was quite sincere ; for, as I have already had occasion to say, he had the greatest respect for that most excellent and pious woman. To appreciate the extent of Alfred's sacrifice, the unfortunate consequences of an expulsion from school must be explained. In a country despotically governed, as ours was, where every- body — young and old — was fashioned to passive obedience, any act betraying independence, even a childish freak, was looked upon as a crime against the state, and the advancement in life of a young man who had given way to such was most seriously impeded. A pupil expelled from one of the public establishments for education, found the career of public em- THE EXTENT OF THE SACRIFICE. 101 ployment insuperably shut against Mm, as well as that of the liberal professions, such as law, medicine, and others, for which a university degree was necessary, because the university was closed for ever to the unfortunate youth who had been turned out of school. Eeason revolts against the idea of a punish- ment so entirely out of proportion to the offence ; but such, unluckily, was the state of things in Piedmont in the year of gi-ace 1822. With Alfred, I had lost all the interest of my school life, and the two months I had to remain in the college after his departure, became a complete blank to me, and seemed dread- fully long. My only consolation during this time was seeing him on those days when we walked out (for he never failed to put himself in our way), and exchanging with him a few words or a shake of the hand, and admiring his good looks in his young man's dress. At length came the day of deliverance. The distribution of the prizes took place, as usual, in the college church. The high altar was transformed for the occasion into an amphi- theatre of benches, rising one above another, whereon we sat in state, with white cravats and white cotton gloves. The spectators, chiefly composed of the parents and acquaintances of the pupils, sat thicklyranged in the nave. The archbishop, the governor of the military division, and the president of the senate, filled seats of honor. The cantata went off very well, and the public called for the reappearance of the singers twice over. My hymn to Provi- dence, in blank verse, repeated with great animation, was also rewarded with loud applause. Then the names of the pupils marked to receive prizes were called in succession, beginning with the inferior classes. At last came the class of rhetoric ! " First prize in Latin verse. Master Lorenzo." I came down from the raised form, and went to receive a wreath of laurel and some books from the hands of the archbishop. By the public, who had already seen me twice, I was clamorously welcomed. I was half way up the steps returning to my place, when my name again resounded — "Pirst prize in Italian poetry. Master Lorenzo." I could only lay my wreath and 102 LOEENZO BENONI. lio'.ks upon a step, and return to receive fresh books and a-iOther wreath. This time it was my mother who placed it f 1 my head, with tears of joy in her eyes, and tenderly mbracing me. The audience, touched and surprised, burst nto thunders of applause. As I was returning to my place, ny name was called again, and I found myself once more in Ae same embarrassment as before — "Prize of Geometry, Master Lorenzo.'' The prize of geometry had scarcely been awarded, when that of drawing came close upon its heels, also " Master Lorenzo." It is impossible to describe the enthusiasm that followed. The first prize of Eloquence, or Latin prose, as the most important, was reserved for the last, and was termed " the highest first prize of the whole distribution." All the prizes but this one being disposed of, there was a pause ; then the orchestra played a tune, which being ended, there was a minute of thrilling expectation, deep silence, and every ear upon the stretch — "The highest first prize of the whole distribution, Master Lorenzo !" Who could paint the excitement that ran through the assembly at this announcement ? The father rettore rose, came toward me, and threw himself into my arms in tears. Poor Signor Lanzi positively sobbed aloud. The applause became, if possible, more frantic. I was deeply moved, very happy, at this moment. There was especially one pair of little hands never still, always clapping with inces- sant vigor, which I never lost sight of, and whose approbation went directly to my heart. After the distribution we went into the refectory, where a capital supper awaited us, at which the relations of the pupils who had got prizes were allowed to be present. Alfred, hold- ing by the skirts of my mother's gown, glided after her into the apartment. Another sort of ovation was there in store for me. All the pupils, as well as the superiors, came, one after another, to embrace me. The ladies and gentlemen present chose to do the same. Every one would see and touch the little prodigy ! What with questions, praises, and caresses, I was half stifled. When, at length, supper ended, and the general enthusiasm began to calm, I took leave of the kind TEIUilPHAL EXIT FEOM SCHOOL. 103 father rettore, and of all the reverend fathers present, and, tottering under my load of books and wreaths, I left school — this time to return no more. Arm in arm with Alfred, in company with my father and mother and two of my brothers, I went home. 104 LORENZO BENONI. CHAPTEE XIII. ABSURD NOTIONS AND TIMELY CnkcKS 1 PURSUE MY STUDIES AT THE SEMINARY, AND LIGHT UPON AN OLD FOE. That tie unprecedented success I had obtained, and the kind of ovation of -which I had been the hero, had a little turned my head, is a thing not to be wondered at ; nor was the unbounded admiration of Alfred, and the mode in which he gave vent to it, calculated to lessen the sort of intoxication under which I was laboring; and if I did not exactly enter the world in the attitude of a conqueror, lance in rest, I must yet allow that the feeling predominant in me at the time was, that society at large, on the day of my accession to it, had had the benefit of a rather important acquisition. My organ of self-conceit, which was fast developing, was not, however, des- tined to do so long unchecked. It was about a question of great moment to me — the ques- tion of my equipment — that the notion of my own importance met with a sudden check. I had proffered a request for two complete suits, and expected to be complimented on my mod- esty. Quite the contrary. My father made a wry face, ex- pressive of anything but approbation, and observed dryly that " articles of dress were exorbitantly dear, and that two suits were too much by half. What could I want with two suits, which I should have outgrown by next year 1 A suit of black for holydays, when it was fine weather, was all that I could want. As for cvery-day wear, my college uniform, properly altered, would do very well." My mortification at the opposi- tion I met with was extreme. Among my schoolfellows some had been promised a gold repeater, nay, some a horse, a real. SELF-niPOETANCJi MOMICNTOUS QUKSTIONS. 105 live horse, for a tenth part of the honors I had obtainecl, ivhile I was grudged two miserable suits of clothes ! Could there he anything too much for a " highest first prize of the whole distribution V Why, if I had thought fit to ask for a mantle of purple and ermine, who dared say that I had no claim to one ! My mother did not fail to plead my wonderful success. "Tut, tut!" replied my father with a tone of impatience, " each of his brothers has done as much." Go, then, and con- quer the world, to be told that Alexander and Osesar existed before you ! However, the point was carried somehow or other, and I had carte hlanche for two complete suits. Two portentous questions now arose, which wholly engrossed my thoughts : what mate- rials had I best choose ? and which was the cut calculated to display my person to the best advantage ? I had no one to consult, for, on the very day following that of the distribution, Alfred had gone to spend the hohdays in the country with his family ; and of my two brothers who were at home, the youngest, who was about to succeed me at college, inspired me with no confidence in his taste, while the eldest was so much of a man, that I shrank from exposing before him the weakness of my vanity. Ca;sar, my elder by eighteen months, the only one who could have helped me, was gone on a visit to our uncle the canon, to recover, by change of air, from the effects of scarlet fever. So I was left entirely to my own in- spiration. At last I determined that a man of my consequence could not do without a suit of black. Suppose — and what was more likely — that the archbishop or the governor of the town were to send for me, or even, who knows, that I should be summoned to court ? Positively, I must have a suit of black. Tor the second, I chose a coat of very shining chest- nut cloth, and sky-blue pantaloons, adding most particular in- structions to the tailor to give the whole a cut in the latest style, which, by-the-by, happened to be tolerably absurd. I remember that the pantaloons were what were called " Ypsi- lanti trowsers," very full, with a hundred plaits round the waist, and closing over the boot with a tie. Coats, " fis]i-tail 5* 106 LOEENZO BENONI. coats," as they were styled, had huge collars, and long, narro-w flaps. My sole occupation for a week was to go several times a day to the tailor's, to watch over the making up of these beautiful materials, and hurry the delivery of the longed-for habiliments. The choice of a hat also, engaged much of my attention. Heads at that time were divided between two systems of hats — narrow-brimmed, short-napped hats, and broad-brimmed, long-napped ones. After mature reflection, I decided in favor of the broad-brimmed, of course the shape that least became me. At length my whole equipment was completed ; and, one fine Sunday morning, I was at last able to admire myself in the glass, attired in a chestnut coat, sky-blue trow'sers, fancy waistcoat and cravat, my hat placed slightly on one side, white cotton gloves, and a whalebone switch in my hand. Thus adorned, and not a little pomatumed, I sallied forth to pay a visit to my uncle John. Uncle John was my mother's only surviving brother, and her senior by twenty years at least. My mother, who valued and loved him dearly, had particularly desired that my first visit should be to pay my respects to him. Uncle John was to me more like an abstract being than a living man, inasmuch as there was no one whose name J[ had heard so often, and whose face I had seen so seldom. His visits to me, during my five years of college, had amounted, at the most, perhaps to a dozen, and then he was always in a hurry. The only impres- sion left with me by these visits — but that a deep-rooted one — was, that Uncle John did not like boys ; and this feeling, now reviving in full force, was far from adding to my self-pos- session. I found my uncle reading, and, as he bent over his book, I could not help being stnick by the noble regularity of his pro- file, and the pensive expression of his countenance. As I found afterward, he was a living picture of Leonardo da Vinci. Though sixty years of age, his hair, which he wore very short, was still black, slightly sprinkled with gray, which produced a bluish tint, very singular, but soft and agreeable to the eye. "Hey, hey, my boy," cried Uncle John, as somi as he saw MT UNOLE JOHN. 107 me ; " how spruce we are !" and he rose from his chair, as if the hetter to examine me. "What tailor has made such a figure of you V I blushed up to the eyes. " Don't be abashed, my boy," continued he, " I have been as absurd as that my- self in my time. Most men who dress (savages who do not are far superior to us in this respect) — most men, I say, are subject to become the victims of their tailors. Nobody knows how to dress before forty. Now, what I mean to say is, that if your father has the good sense to confide you to my care" (my uncle's leau ideal for me was, that I should enter commerce under his guidance, a prospect which my father abhorred), " this is not the equipment in which I should wish to see you walking about BancM." Such is the name of the exchange, near which my uncle had lived for the last twenty years of his life. I knew not what to say, and therefore remained silent. Un- cle John then turned the conversation upon my late success, and complimented me highly. " I have read with pleasure your ' Hymn to Providence,' " said he, " and I see that you have a happy knack at versifying ; but — verba, verba, praete- reaque nihil. You must learn to condense. To condense, my dear fellow, is the great secret of art. Here is the noble mas- ter who will teach you this. Eead Dante through ten times," added Uncle John, tapping the open volume before him, ".and then, if you have time, and a mind for it, set to writing verses; but not before — not before — do you take me?" I think I did. What with the novelty of the remarks thus ofiered, and the tone, half-earnest, half-jeering, in which they were uttered, I was rather bewildered, and very ill at ease ; so, as soon as I could with any degree of propriety, J rose to go. " Well, my boy," said my uncle, shaking me warmly by the hand, " if you can hear to hear an honest truth roughly told, without its ma- king you too angry, come and see me often ; and, never mind if I do pique you a little now and then ; it is all for your good. So now good-by !" When I got into the street, on leaving my uncle's house, I felt that I did not walk along with the same assurance as I 108 LORENZO BENONI. Lad done half an hour before. His remarks had produced upon me something like the effect of a bucket of cold water thrown over a man in full perspiration. Nevertheless, I was set a-going, and on I must go : so I made my way to " Our Lady of the Vines," the fashionable church, and attended the one o'clock mass, the fashionable mass. I then joined the crowd of exquisites, who, ranged in a double row on each side of the portal, watched the ladies as they streamed forth from church, and compared notes. Apparently the fame of my high deeds had not yet made its way to this quarter. I created no sensation at all ; no lady, young or old, blushed or fainted at the sight of me. No one evinced the slightest symptom of curiosity, sympathy, or wondier. Nobody came and said, " You are the young man who got so many prizes ! I admire you !" or anything of the kind. I paced up and down the Via Balhi Nuova and Nuovissima, and in the evening went to the Acqua- sola, the public walk frequented by the elegant world. There were two military bands playing there, and the crowd was immense ; but not a single soul took the slightest notice of me or of my chestnut coat and sky-blue pantaloons. And when, tired and dispirited, I got home at night, I found no summons from either the archbishop or the governor. Next day I began again, and several days following, but with no better success. The only adventures I met with during my perambulations were not much calculated to en- hance my good opinion of myself. Once I got into a quarrel with two boys, who had taken the liberty of laughing in my face, and who called me snob and jackanapes, and threatened to break my own cane across my back. Another time, at the fashionable Cairo caffe, the glass out of which I was taking an ice slipped from my.hands and fell to the ground, and its contents, besides damaging not a little my ypsilantis, bespat- tered the white gown of a young lady, who unfortunately happened to be seated near me. Now this was very awkward, and as all eyes in the room, which was crowded, told me so, my confusion was extreme. At the end of a fortnight my fit of vanity was considerably abated, and I asked mytelf -:7-to what purpose all this waste of time, boots, and jessamine I TAKK TO KKADIXG. 109 pomatum? This life of self-exhibition was, in truth, little consonant with my nature, and I gave it up without regret. I stayed at home, and took to reading. I read from morning till night. Novels, fairy tales, tales of chivalry in verse and prose, travels ; in short, whatever came to my hand I devoured with ever-craving avidity. I used to spend the whole day in a solitary little room in the remotest corner of the house, where it seemed to me that I enjoyed my books more, and there, plunged in a sort of ecstacy, I forgot completely the external world. Fiction obliterated realitj'. What an inexhaustible mine of new pleasures, of delicious emotions, opened upon me ! The wonderful, especially, had an irresistible attraction ; and when my mother prevailed upon me to go out to walk, how great was my reluctance to leave, how great my rapture to return to my darling books ! One of those which made me at once most happy and most miserable, was the adventures of " Paul and Virginia." I have shed more tears over that little volume than would suffice to drown once more its unfortunate heroine. Another book, Mrs. E.ad- cliffe's " Italian,'' made a most profound impression upon me. There was, in particular, a certain hravo named Spalatro, a mysterious, wretched habitation on the sea-shore, and in one of the chambers on the ground-floor a certain sack that moved of itself, which filled me with a most delicious terror. How often, starting from sleep in the dead of night, have I fancied that I saw this dreadful sack at the foot of my bed, on 'nhich the moon was shining ! But my health soon began to suffer from this sedentary life, my appetite failed, and my legs would scarcely support me. My mother perceived this, and hastened the moment of our annual removal to the country-house I have already mentioned, where I had felt so much ennui a few months pre- viously. I was forbidden to take any books with me. Two months passed in the open air among the hills, and in constant exercise, did me a great deal of good ; and when, at the close of the vacation, toward the end of October, the family returned to town, I was completely restored. It was about this period that I went for the first time, to 110 LOEENZO BENONI. the theatre. The orchestra, the ballet, the dresses, the scenery, the singing, that varied yet harmonizing whole which constitutes an opera, produced upon me such an extraordinary effect as no words can describe. It was as if a new being had arisen within me, a being possessing powers hitherto unknown, and capable of the greatest things. What would I not have given for an opportunity of trying this new strength, and of signalizing myself in some way ! A slight idea of my excitement may be formed, when I say that I went home with a fit of fever, which kept me three days in bed. One evening, a short time after our return, my father called me into his study. My father -had a very large head, and wore powder and a pig-tail. I don't know how it was, but I never felt at ease in his presence, and this feeling, instead of diminishing, daily increased. He habitually kept me, and indeed all of us, at a distance. It had n^ever chanced that he had caressed me in private, as my mother would do, though more than once — on the day of the distribution of prizes, for instance — he had embraced me in public. When I say he had embraced me, I use a figure of speech ; I ought to say he had offered me his cheek to kiss. It was a strictly exacted custom that all his children, on entering his presence, should kiss his hand, and address him in the third person, the most deferential mode of speaking in Italian. My father told me that now I had had plenty of idleness, and that it was high time to jDUt an end to this way of going on ; that I must work ; that he should never consent to my going into commerce ; that he left me the choice between medicine and law ; that, for the one as well as for the other, it was indispensable to go through the class of philosophy ; that the university being closed, he saw- only two establishments in which I could — as a day-scholar of course — attend the lectures on philosophy during the two required years, that is, either the Royal college or the seminary (the name given to an establishment for the education more particularly of young people destined to the church), that, as for him, he would recommend the college, but he left me the choice. A OHOIOE OF EVILS. Ill Now, this was leaviiig me a clioice of evils. To go to the Royal college as a d Fantasio, the name I shall give to my new friend. I was one of about a dozen young men (Fantasio was riot of the number) who went one warm evening to enjoy the cool breeze at the Acquasola. Some new embellishments had just been made in that public walk; new flower-beds and grass plots had been laid out, and surrounded by wooden trellis- w^ork to prevent trespass. We happened to be near this spot, some of us seated on a bench, some on the ground. It chanced that one of my companions, induced by the heat, took oif his coat, and hung it on the trellis. We were chatting merrily, when the sergeant from the guard-house of the Acquasola happening to pass, gave orders in a more than brutal tone, that the coat should be taken away. It might be a question whether the act thus challenged constituted an infraction of the rules, but it was out of all question that the tone in which the intimation was given, was, to say the least of it, highly improper. The owner of the coat nevertheless obeyed, ob- serving at the same time to the sergeant, that he might have been more civil. A provoking retort from the soldier ensued. In short, an altercation began, but after a few minutes the man of arms went away, and there was an end of the matter, — so at least we thought. But we were mistaken. A quarter of an hour- had scarcely elapsed, when back came the sergeant, vociferating with furious gestures, " Do yon think to frighten THli COAT AND THE GUARD. 145 me laecause you are students 1" The man was evidently ex- cited by drink. " Let us alone, do !" said the young man -who owned the coat, and close to whom the sergeant had placed him- self. The words were no sooner pronounced than the soldier, without further warning, drew his sabre, and pointed it against the youth's breast. At sight of this we all rose like lightning, and threw ourselves upon the frantic man, not to do him any hurt, but to prevent further mischief. The sabre, turned aside in time by the young man, had merely scratched the skin. All this, of course, had not passed without some loud words, and the passers-by, attracted by the noise, came around us, and soon formed a compact group. The soldier returned his sabre to the scabbard, and began his retreat toward the guard-house, roaring out with stentorian lungs, that we "wanted to make a revolution — thai was the thing." To turn a case of lawful self-defence into a political attempt, the sergeant felt instinctively, was a sure way of throwing odium on us,. and securing impunity for himself. We followed him, in a state of great excitement, to the guard- house, with the intention of carrying a complaint to the ofiScer on duty, but there was no officer, the sergeant himself being chief of the guard. So we retired, giving him to understand repeatedly, that he should hear of us again. The next day we met in council, and it was decided that we should carry a complaint to the governor of the town, and demand the punishment • of the sergeant. There being a law which forbade the military, under severe penalties, to draw their swords, we, in our simplicity, made no doubt of obtaining redress. But was it prudent to present ourselves ten or twelve together, and would it not be better to choose a deputation, which should declare the subject of our complaint ? Opinions were divided on that point, and some one proposed to go and consult on the matter with Fantasio, who lived close by. No sooner said than done. Fantasio received us most cordially, shared our indignation, declared himself in favol- of the deputation, and offered to make part of it, an offer which was accepted with great satisfaction. I was named second deputy ; the third was the young man who had been so near bearing 7 146 LOEENZO BEHONI. serious marks of the sergeant's brutaiity. We went to tie governor's palace four times in the course of the day, without obtaining admittance. A sort of secretary, who at last asked us what was the object of our visit, and to whom we explained the whole without hesitation, observed that our business con- cerned his excellency less than the military commandant of the town. This was another military authority, having more especially under his orders the troops of the garrison. This officer, a sort of gross, brutal trooper, received us standing, and during the five minutes of audience he vouchsafed us, repeated over and over again, that " the military were to be respected ; that if we fancied we were masters of the town, we were devilishly mistaken." It was in vain for us to say that we were quite of his opinion on that point, but that it was not the one in question. He would not listen to us, turned on his heel, and walked off. The following day, early in the morning, a letter was brought to my address, containing a summons from the director of police to present myself at his office at twelve o'clock. I hastened immediately to Fantasio with this piece of intelli- gence, and found that he had received a similar notification ; so had he who had been the third in the deputation. We were exact to the time. After having been kept waiting long in the antechamber, we were introduced to the presence of the director, who began by telling us, that " we might thank his moderation first, and secondly, the respectability of the families to which we belonged, that he had had us summoned before him, instead of sending us straight to prison." After this exor- dium, he went on to say, that " the authorities had something else to do than to lip'en to complaints of imaginary wrongs: that it was time, higli ■'ime, to have done with such non- sense; that students had better keep quiet; that now he had once for all warned us, we migtit go about our business." With this he motioned us to the door. " But " began Fantasio. " Hush !" interrupted the magistrate ; " not another word, or" — taking hold of a hand-bell on the table — "I send you instantly to the tower" — the state prison. Such was the redress we obtained. Four-and-twenty years A FAMILY STOUM. 147 later, wLen things had fortiTnately changed for the hetter in Piedmont, one of my friends, employed at the police, commu- nicated to me a secret note entered upon their official books, and bearing the date of the day on which I had thus appeared before the director. The note runs thus : — " Lorenzo Benoni, hot-headed, talented, romantic, reserved" (the word was underlined), "to be looked after." I suppose that- my two colleagues each got a little memorandum of the same kind for their share. This afiPair gave rise to the first stormy scene that had as yet passed between my father and me. It was a few hours after my interview with the director of the police, and naturally I was in no very cheerful mood, wheu my father, who already knew all about it (somehow or other he always knew what I did), asked me of a sudden whether I had done making myself the town talk? I was startled, and begged him to explain how he meant that I had made myself the town talk. Why, by playing the part of Don Quixote, said my father ; what business had I to stand forward in a matter which did not personally concern me ? I answered, that in bearing witness for a wronged and ill-used* companion, I had acted according to the precept, " Do unto others as ye would be done unto," and that I did n,ot think I was to blame for it. All that was very fine, retorted my father; but the end of it was, that the stain of having appeared at the police remained with me, a circumstance very little calculated to enhance a young man's reputation — was I aware of that? To this I observed, that if the police was a disreputable thing, so much the worse for those who made it so ; that as for me, I could not reasonably be made responsible for a step taken on compulsion, and sorely against my will. New replies gave place to new rejoinders, till at last my father ordered me peremptorily to hold my tongue. My blood was up, and I could not help muttering, that the argument was a convenient one, but that I had thought it reserved for the special use of directors of the police. Upon this my father rose in a passion, and advanced toward me. I thought at the time that it was with the intention of striking me, but of this I am not sure ; certainly his aspect was 148 LOEENZO EENOOT. menacing. My mother started up at the same instant, and threw herself between ns, desiring me to leave the room, which I immediately did. The discomfiture we had received in common, created be- tween Fantasio and myself a communion of feeling, which contributed to the rapid growth of our intimacy. What our feelings were toward the commandant of the town, and the director of the police, in particular, as well as toward the government in general, I leave it to the reader to guess. It is, however, certain, that within a month after this circum- stance, which had brought Fantasio and me together, we had sworn a mutual friendship in life and death, and, somehow or other, an intimacy had sprung up between the two families. Every morning, without fail, I went to Fantasio's house, and every evening, in like manner, Fantasio came to ours. My mother and my brothers, especially Csesar, were captivated with him. He was certainly the most fascinating little fellow I ever knew. Fantasio was my elder by one year. He had a finely- shaped head, the forehead spacious and prominent, and eyes black as jet, at times darting lightning. His complexion was a pale olive, and his features, remarkably striking altogether, were set, so to speak, in a profusion of flowing black hair, which he wore rather long. The expression of his countenance, grave and almost severe, was softened by a smile of great sweetness, mingled with a certain shrewdness, betraying a rich comic vein. He spoke well and fluentlj^, and, when he warmed upon a subject, there was a fascinating power in his eyes, his gestures, his voice, his whole bearing, that was quite irresistir ble. His life was one of retirement and study ; the amuse- ments common with young men of his age had no attraction for him. His library, his cigar, his coffee ; some occasional walks, rarely in the daytime, and always in solitary places, more frequently in the evening and by moonlight — such were his only pleasures. His morals were irreproachable, his con- versation was always chaste. If any of the young compan- ions he gathered round him occasionally indulged in some wan- ton jest, or expression of double meaning, Fantasio — God bless FANTASIO. 149 him ! — would put an immediate stop to it by some ore word which never failed of its effect. Such was the influence that the purity of his life, and his incontestable superiority, gave to him. Fantasio was well versed in history, and in the literature, not only of his own, but of foreign countries. Shakspere, By- ron, Goethe, Schiller, were as familiar to him as Dante and Alfieri. Spare and thin in body, he had an indefatigably ac- tive mind ; he wrote much and well in both prose and verse, and there was hardly a subject he had not attempted — histori- cal essays, literary criticisms, tragedies, &c., &c. A passion- ate lover of liberty under every shape, there breathed in his fiery soul an indomitable spirit of revolt against tyranny and oppression of every sort. Kind, feeling, generous, never did he refuse advice or service ; and his library, amply furnished, as well as his well-filled purse, were always at the command of his friends. Perhaps he was rather fond of displaying the brilliancy of his dialectic powers at the expense of good sense, by maintaining occasionally strange paradoxes. Perhaps there was a slight touch of affectation in his invariably black dress ; and his horror of apparent shirt-collars was certainly somewhat exaggerated ; but, take him all in all, he was a noble lad. To him I owe having really read and enjoyed Dante. Many a time, before having made acquaintance with Fantasio, I had taken up the " Divina Commedia" with the firm determination of going through the whole of it ; but soon recoiling from its difficulties, I had given up the task, and contented myself with reading those portions of the great poem which are most fa- mous, and the beauties of which are most popular ; in a word, I had only sought amusement in Dante. Fantasio taught me to look there for instruction and the ennobling of my faculties. I drank deeply at this source of profound thought and gener- ous emotion, and from that time the name of Italy, which re- curs so often in the book, became sacred to me, and made my very heart beat. We read together the most obscure passages. Fantasio's commentaries were rather brilliant than deep, but I was of an age when brilliancy is irresistibly seductive, and makes up for everything else. 150 LORENZO BENONI. At that time the war between the classic and romantic schools was at its height ; ink flowed in torrents. Unable* to find vent on the forbidden ground of politics, passions ran counter in the lists of literature. The classics were the con- servatives in letters, the champions of authority, swearing by Aristotle and Horace, out of whose church there was no sal- vation to be found. The imitation of the ancients was their creed. The romantic school was that of the libferals in litera- ture, the enemies of authority. They would not hear of Aris- totle and his unities. According, to them, genius knew no law- giver but itself ; imitation was mere impotence ; Nature was the sole and eternal spring of the living and the beautiful. From literature the impulse of innovating reform had spread to art. Eossini in music, Hayes and Migliara in painting, had opened new paths. Manzoni, the avowed chief of the roman- tic school in literature, had just published his "Promessi Sposi." The periodicals belonging to each party Arew themselves on this book with a sort of fury — some praising it to the skies, others vehemently decrying it. According to the former, Man- zoni was a demigod : if you gave ear to the latter, he was scarcely a man. There could be no doubt as to Fantasio's choice in this mat- ter. He espoused the cause of the romantic school with all the ardor and devotedness belonging to his nature. He pub- lished in a Florentine periodical, attached to the romantic party, a series of articles full of spirit, in which he laid down the most revolutionary theories with respect to art. We gave him our enthusiastic applause, and, following the example of our young leader, became violent Shaksperians, Manzonians, Eossinists, Migliarists. Fantasio, with his characteristic fever- ish activity, immediately conceived the plan of a literary paper, of'which he was to be the conductor and I one of the contributors. But some difficulty, which I do not well remem- ber, came across the project, the realization of which was de- ferred. At the end of this first year of my legal studies, things came to a sudden crisis in the affairs of my brother Osesar. One evening, after having been overworked all day, he was pre- A>-OTm':R FAMILY STOEM. 151 paring to return liome, when Lis employer gave liim some pa- pers, a copy of -nhich was wanted, he said, in a great hurry, and must be done in the course of that night. Caesar was un- well, and declined this extra work on the plea of feeling ill. His employer insisted upon the point, imputing the refusal to idleness. Csesar, commanding himself with difficulty, answered that he thought he fulfilled his duty by giving his days, and that night was allotted for sleep. At these words the notary flew into a towering passion, and called my brother an idle starveling. Csesar, exasperated, said, " If ever I put my foot again into your office, I give you leave to call me idler and starveling, and kick me out of it besides," and so saying he put on his hat ar.d went away. The next day during dinner, the more than usually frown- ing aspect of my father showed us that he knew all. And, true enough, he presently broached the subject, and notified to Caesar, as his ultimatum, that the next day he must make an apology to his employer. My brother repelled the propo- sition with the greatest indignation : " Make excuses to that brute ! and for what ? For having insulted me ! Never ! never ! I would rather be made minced meat of!" " Tou will do what I order, or you shall leave my house within four-and-twenty hours !" thundered my father. " This instant, if you please ; but I will not do a mean and vile thing." A terrible scene followed. My father was he- side himself, Caesar was exasperated beyond measure. We were obliged to carry him off, almost by force. In the even- ning he complained of shiverings, and went early to bed. I remarked that there was an unusual red spot on his cheek, and that his eyes were more than commonly bright and dilated. " If I could only weep, what a relief it would be !" said he to me several times. My father came home at the accustomed hour, and supper was served. " Where is Caesar, th^t I do not see him in his place ?" asked he of my mother. " Cesar is gone to bed with fever," was my mother's answer. " This is a strangely conve- nient fever," returned my father bitterly ; " if you have got this up for stage-eflect, I can tell you it won't do with nie. I 152 LOUENZO EENONI. shall not be the dupe of it." My mother breathed not a word, but she gave him a look — such a look as I shall never forget to the last day of my life. My father could not stand it; he quailed, and turned his eyes to the floor. Supper passed in total silence, and my father retired to his own room immedi- ately thereafter. When we returned to Ca;sar, we found him delirious. " I shall never be able to get through this copy to-night," cried he as soon as he saw me come in ; " my head can't stand it. Do go, and let Mr. Marco know I can't." Imagine my moth- er's alarm. I went out, indeed, as poor Cresar urged, but it was to fetch the family physician, whom I brought back with me. He ordered copious bleeding, and the application of four- and-twenty leeches, if, two hours after the bleeding, the de- lirium did not give way. So we had to send for a surgeon, who opened a vein, and, the delirium still continuing, leeches were applied during the night. The symptoms were aggra- vated rather than diminished when the physician returned early the next morning. He desired a consultation, which took place, and it was decided that the bleeding should be continued. Csesar was then iminediately bled for the third time, and again in the afternoon. The patient after that had a respite of some hours. My brother's illness was a brain- fever. During five days and five nights Caesar's life hung by a thread. With the exception of a few rare intervals, his state was one of constant delirium. He was pursued by one fixed idea — a task quite impossible to be achieved, and the rage of his employer because it was not completed. I had laid a mattress on the ground at the foot of his bed, and I stretched myself on it from time to time, when my limbs refused to sup- port me. I had never witnessed serious illness before, and the gloomy phantasmagoria of a sick-room, with those closed curtains, that shaded light, those whispered questions, that terrifying immobility, those sudden movements still more alarming, was a terrible novelty to me. He who has never watched by the bed of a beloved one in danger knows not what suffering is. A SICK-KOOM.. 153 I had passerl through all the alternations of hope and ter- ror, when, on the morning of the sixth day, the physician, after his usual/visit, shook his head, and advised that the sacraments should be administered. This was a sentence of death. Die ! he> my Cfcsar, my brother and beloved companion — he, so full of life a week ago ! It was surely impossible ; it could not be God's will ! What would become of me without Caesar ! I thought I had exhausted the full bitterness of giief, and the agony was just beginning — an agony unlike any before expe- rienced. What! OsBsar was to die, and the sky was blue as ever, the sun shone bright, the birds were chirping merrily on the housetop, all nature was bedecked and joj'ous. This could not be ! Two long rows of people with lighted tapers filled the room, and knelt down, singing psalms. The priest in his pontifical vestments approached the bed and administered tlie sacred wafer ; every one then retired in silence, the room remained empty, and nothing was to be heard but the ticking of the clock. Was this a realitj' or a vision ? My heart was burst- ing ; something within me seemed to break. Praise be to God, he granted me the relief of tears ! I rushed into an adjoining room, hid my head among the cushions of the sofa, and wept like a v/retched creature as I was. Csesar passed the whole of that day in complete immobility ; he might have been supposed a corpse. His breathing was imperceptible, and hardly tarnished the mirror which we placed several times before his lips. Late in the evening, in a whis- per almost inaudible, he asked " to drink." These two words revived all our hopes. We sent instantly for the doctor, who examined the patient, and pronounced that there was a slight amelioration. " Nature is a great physician," added the old practitioner ; " if this im^ovemeut continues through the night, he is saved." My mother, in a transport of gratitude, threw herself at the old man's feet, and bathed his hands with her tears. At that moment I regretted that I had not chosen the' profession of medicine. In fact, the night passed calmly, and in the morning the de- lirium had entirely vanished ; but the exhaustion of the patient 154 LOEENZO BENONI. was so great, that he could neither speak nor move for two whole days. His convalescence was tedious, but without any . relapse. In one month from the day he took to bed, Caesar rose from it for the first time, and, leaning on my mother's arm, could take a few steps in the room. As soon as he could bear the motion of a sedan-chair, my mother conveyed him to the country, where I joined them at the end of the scholastic year, and, to my great consolation, found my brother almost entirely recovered. My father must have bitterly regretted the harsh words he haid uttered on the first evening of Caesar's illness, and which had wounded my mother to the heart. He came several times and sat down by Caesar's bedside, without speaking ; but hav- ing perceived the painful impression produced upon the patient by his presence, he confined himself to coming to the door, and making inquiries from time to time. As to the disagreement between Caesar and his employer he observed absolute silence, and neither uttered a word nor made any allusion to the sub- ject, but. at the end of the holydays he asked Caesar what he intended to do. He answered that he wished to study medi- cine, which was agreed to. So he matriculated, gave the re- quired certificates, and was admitted without difficulty. As to me, I easily obtained the renewal of my ticket of admission, and on the first day of term Caesar and I walked together arm- in-arm to the university. THE UNITEESITY A NEW CLOG. 155 OHAPTEE XVIII. UNEXPECTED VISITATION, AND AWKWARD DILEMMA MY FATHER IS VERY ANGRY, AND BIDS ME BESTIR MYSELF. This year the university was really and truly opened. The professors, for whom the lectures given at their own houses had very serious inconveniences, had warmly remonstrated upon the subject with the provincial board of public instruc- tion, and the said provincial board had presented a report to their superiors the high commissioners for the reform of public instruction at Turin, who, after profound reflection, had made up their minds to introduce the wished-for change and to take the chance of the possible dangers which might accrue to the kingdom from the agglomeration of several hundreds of stu- dents, for some hours each day, in the same building. Prom this time, therefore, the lectures were delivered at the uni- versity. This novelty, with which we were very well pleased, brought about another much less to our satisfaction — the re-establish- ment of what was called the congregazione, that is, the meet- ing of the students to hear mass and pray in common on Sun- days and all church lolydays. The attendance at divine service Avas obligatory. With the congregazione was re-estab- lished the office of prefetto of the congregazione — a priest, of course one of whose special duties was to ascertain the pres- ence of the students. The following was the mode devised for this purpose : — Several wooden frames were hung against the wall. Each faculty, — law, medicine, theology, etc., etc., had one or more frames, in which were inserted long rows of movable pegs, 166 LORENZO BENONI. upon which were inscribed the names of the students, one upon the head of each peg. Each student as he entered the con- gregazione declared to which faculty he belonged, and gave his name, while the prefetto, or an attendant, drew out the slip that bore it. The position of this wooden peg, drawn out or left in its place, served to prove the presence or the absence of the student. The signature of the prefetto of the congre- gazione was necessary to the renewal of the admittatur, and if absence could be proved against you twice in the three months, you lost your right to it. This was a new tether fastened to our legs. Truly prayer is a good thing, and prayer in common is a solemn duty, but as all times and all frames of mind are not equally fit for it, this, more than any other thing, should bo left to the free will of each individual. At all events, I con- fess I do not understand prayer upon compulsion. Whether right or wrong, this at least was the opinion of most of the students, who received the new measure with the worst possi- ble grace. There occurred even at first some slight disorders expressive of the general dissatisfaction. Sometimes the whole congregation seemed simultaneously struck dumb, and no one made responses ; at others they would burst out with a sort of fury, shaking the windows like a roar of cannon. Sometimes during the sermon a universal fit of coughing, or an irresistible general sneezing came to drown the preacher's voice. In truth, the service was endless, and took place twice in the day, morning and evening. As Sunday was the only holyday in the week we regretted sadly the loss of our liberty. It was hard enough in the bad season ; but? when the. fine weather returned, when the country showed itself in all its attractions, to be forced to give up spending the day out of town, according to general custom, rendered the tie that bound us within its walls doubly odious. It was still worse during the season of the greatest heat, and longest days. Then, indeed, the con- gregazione, especially after dinner, became intolerable. We had to trot off to the university after a hasty meal, at three o'clock in the afternoon, the very hottest hour of the day, and at five o'clock we came out into the street, with four hours of ALL- ABSORBING OCCUPATION. 157 daylight before ns. What in the world to do with ourselves we did not know. To take a walk for pleasure was quite out of the question, and to get home vamong a thousand. The marchioness of brought a criminal action against the mayor and common council of the burgh of Pecetto, for 188 rOEENZO BENONI. some alleged act of trespass on her estates. The senate (the highest law court) non-suited the marchioness, and acquitted the defendants. The judgment of the senate seemed an insult in the eyes of the family of the marchioness, which was pow- erful, and had friends at court. So one day the mayor and common councilmen of Pecetto were arrested and carried to the prisons of Turin. The barrister who had defended the cause before the senate, hastened to the director of police, and showed him the senatorial degree of acquittal. The director merely answered with a smile, " The senate has pronounced well, hut I have done better," and so sent away the lawyer without any further explanation. The prisoners were not re- leased till it pleased the marchioness that they should be so, and were obliged to promise that they would in future " be- have like honest men, with the fear of Grod and man before their eyes.'' The privacy of correspondence was constantly violated, as a matter of course, without even a pretence of concealment. Under such a system, it is needless to say, there could not even be a question of the liberty of the press. Three official gazettes — one at Turin, one at Genoa, and the third atOham- bery — constituted the whole of the political press of the coun- try. They registered the decrees of the government, the court receptions, and such foreign news as the authorities allowed to be inserted. Scarcely any books were published, excepting a few works merely scientific, and some insipid novels. Cen- sorship with respect to the theatre was carried to a pitch of absurdity, even to the suppression of the word liberty (liberta) in a chorus in " Norma," and the substitution of loyalty (lealta) in its place. This, by-the-way, reminds me of a curious anec- dote. Signor Eonconi, a famous barytone, and a great favor- ite with the public, having, in the excitement of the perform- ance, forgotten the above-mentioned alteration, was sent to prison for three days to improve his memory. Not long after- ward, the following verse, in allusion to a peasant who had enlisted, occurring in Signor Eonconi's part in the "Elisir d'Amore" — " Vende la liherta, sife soldato" (he sold his liberty and became a soldier), Signor Eonconi, like a clever wag as A FLODEISHING TRADE. 189 he was, altered the text into " Vende la lealta, sije soldato" (he sold his loyalty, and became a soldier). This Variation was received by the public, to v^hom everything in the shape of opposition was welcome, with enthusiasm. Next day came a summons before the police to receive a reprimand for having dared to say that " loyalty" was to be sold ; in reply to which the singer observed that, but a few days before, he had been taught, in a way not easily to be forgotten, that loyalty was everywhere to take the place of liberty. The matter ended here, affording mirth to the whole town at the expense of the government, and increasing not a little the popularity of Sig- ner Eonconi. To return from this digression. The only foreign papers permitted were, "La Gazette de France" and "La Quotidienne" two ultra-absolutist journals. The law punished any one who might have introduced a book or a newspaper opposed to the principles of monarchy, with from two to five years of hard labor, in certain cases even with death ; and any one who might have received one of such newspapers or books by the post, without having delivered it into the hands of the authori- ties, with two years' imprisonment. A reward of a himdred crowns was paid to any one giving infoi'mation of the fact. A flourishing trade was that of spies and informers. They swarmed upon society, like flies on carrion. There were plenty of them of all stations in life, and of every calling. The secret police was the sure asylum of all veterans in debauchery and crime. Many among these, disdaining all disguise, made a parade of their infamy, and carried on their trade in the open day. The Piazza Nuova, near the ducal palace, at Genoa, was the rendezvous of these wretches. There they met in great numbers at certain hours of the day, forming little groups, and going backward and forward with a busy look, to the great disgust of the honest citizens. Their victims were especially the small shopkeepers, on whom they levied a sort of tribute, under the threat of denouncing them as liberals. The acknowledged chief of these creatures was a man with whose name I will not soil these pages ; but all those of my countrymen who may read them will instantly recognise the 190 LOEENZO BENONI. individual, wLen I add that in 1845 or 1846 he Tras^ prose- cuted for murder, found guilty, and condemned to the galleys for life. I shall say nothing of the treatment inflicted upon those under political accusation. Perhaps I shall have occasion to touch on that melancholy subject in the course of these me- moirs. Tor the present, I shall close this dark subject with an anecdote unfortunately strictly historical, in which the ridiculous vies with the revolting. A political prisoner, who had been long detained in the fortress of Mondovi, made re- peated application to the commandant for permission to be shaved. The commandant referred the question to the gov- ernor of the province of Cuneo, who granted the requisite au- thority by the following despatch, which I give verbatim : " The prisoner shall have his hands, arms, and legs, tied to a chair. Two sentinels shall be placed, one on his right, the Other on his left, and behind him a soldier with a naked sabre. Fronting him shall stand the commandant, with the major of the fortress on one side, and his aide-de-camp on the other. In this attitude," concluded the despatch, " the prisoner is permitted to have himself shaved at his ease and pleasure !" (con tutto suo cotnodo ! ) JirSTACHES PKOSCEIEKD. 191 CHAPTER XXII. TANTALIZING DISCOVERY, AND HOT CHASE TO NO PURPOSE THE VALLEY OP SAN SECONDO. Two years have elapsed. I am now twenty-one, and a thick circlet of hair has grown under my chin. I should also have a pair of heautiful mustaches — the object of my ambition as a child — if mustaches were not unmercifully proscribed. I have made several attempts toward wearing them, but all have ^been frustrated. One day, a long, long time ago, Mr. Merlini meeting me in the peristyle of the university with a show of down upon my lip, protested, with certain indescribable nods, jerks, and grimaces, that he had taken me for a pioneer. I understood the hint, and my budding mustaches fell under the razor. Twelve months later, the mustaches having reappeared thicker than ever, the director of police had the kindness to send me word, through my father, that if I did not shave them off of my own accord, he would have them cut off for me — a very simple ceremony, not at all unprecedented. Two cara- bineers would take you by each arm, force you into a barber's shop, and stand present during the operation. So I was obliged to give up the point. My studies, as well as those of my brother, are drawing to a close. Though admitted to the university a year after me, Cssar had overtaken me during my time of rustication. One vear more, and Genoa will possess an additional barrister with- out clients, and another physician without patients. Oissar has become much more manly in his person within the last two years. He is a trifle less tall than I am, but stouter, better proportioned, and much stronger. The color of health glows 192 LOEEKZO BENONI. in his cheeks. His features are not very regular, but alto- gether pleasing. He has a beautiful mouth and fine teeth, and his clustering chestnut hair shades well a spacious, finely- formed forehead. As for me, I am very dark-complexioned, very pale, and far too thin for my height, which is above the middling size. My countenance, when at rest, wears an ex- pression of languor painful to behold in one so young, but easily brightens up and changes for the better. My only beauty, if a thing very common in our country may be considered as such, is a profusion of very black, curling hair. My youngest brother has just left college with a cartload of books and wreaths of laurel. Save this one, no change of any note at home ; my father as stiff, cold, and distant, my mother as patient, meek, and gentle, as ever. Since we have become men, disagreeable scenes are more rare. We take greater care to avoid them. We are also allowed a little more liberty, and may go out to walk after supper, without having recourse to stealth. Bad tidings of the crop have come from our uncle the canon. Somehow or other, be it from cold or from heat, this is the second year that the olives have failed. My father delivers on the occasion sundry lamentable lectures, to which we listen in silence, and the family is put upon a footing of the strictest economy. Uncle John is as odd and as friendly as ever. Csesar and I go and dine at his house regularly once a week, when he never fails to repeat that the disease lies at the root of the tree, and that youth is too prone to take its wishes for realities. Evidently, Uncle John watches us, and has fears about us. With Fantasio we are as intimate as ever, or more so if possible. He has thrown off the yoke of the university, and is now LL. D. in utroque jure. The circle of his acquaintances has gradually extended, and his influence goes on spreading. He founded a literary journal, and took a journey into Tus- cany last year. The journal, like a rose, lived but one day, that is to say, that at the tenth number the censorship sup- pressed it without any ceremony. As to the journey, its object is a mystery to all, except a few adepts, among whom are Csesar and myself. 193 Fantasio tad long entertained the project of forming a secret association like the Hetaireia, and had laid down in writing, and shown us, a complete and detailed plan, of which we had highly approved. Among the literary connections which Fan- tasio's early contributions to a Florentine periodical had pro- cured for him in Tuscany, there were a certain number of liberal, ardent-minded 'y^wng men, to whom he wished to communicate his plan, in order to indiice them to adopt it, so as to found the association in the two Italian provinces at once ; for Fantasio's ambition aimed at nothing less than embracing in the same bond all the different parts of the peninsula. ■ This, and no other, had been the real motives of his journey. His Tuscan friends would have been very willing to enter into his views ; but, as chance would have it, they had just a short time before received overtures of the same nature from a Ven- dita of Carbonari sitting at Bologna ; and of what use, observed they, could it be to form a new society, when one of old stand- ing, and powerful in its means, not only existed, but was actually within their reach 1 Fantasio yielded to this very cogent reasoning, and gave up his political scheme. He resolved, however, to make his journey to Tuscany turn to account in another way, and suc- ceeded in getting>a plan of a literary weekly journal adopted and approved. He engaged for himself and some of his Genoese friends to become regular contributors to the new periodical, which was to be published in Florence, where there was considerable toleration with respect to the press. This done, Fantasio left his Tuscan friends with the under- standing that if the overtures from Bologna should produce any result they were to let him know, and that, on the other hand, if he were in the meantime to succeed in putting himself in communication with the Carbonari, who could not but be equally at work in Genoa, he would let them know in his turn. I need hardly say how we welcomed Fantasio with open arms on his return from Florence. I shall never forget the accent of triumph with which he said, as he got out of the can-iage, " The Italian Hetaireia is found !" However, he had been in too great a hurry to cry "victory;" 9 194 LOKENZO BENONI. for, in spite of all the ardor with which he, and indeed all of us, sought after this Italian Hetaireia, we could not succeed in finding any trace of it. This failure, far from leading us to the conclusion that Carbonari did not exist, or at least were not actually working in Genoa, only increased our faith, and our veneration for this formidable association, which could so well keep its secret that, although everywhere present it was nowhere tangible. Oarbonarism, as everybody knows,- arose in the kingdom of Naples during the last years of the French occupation. Some patriots, flying from the persecution of the foreign government, had retired to the mountains of the Abruzzo, where their only means of existence was making charcoal (carbone), whence came the name of Carbonari, and that of Vendita (sale), given to the divers groups into which the association was divided. King Ferdinand, who at that time had taken refuge in Sicily, made the most of the national feeling of the sect, encouraged it with all his might, and went so far as to become a member of it. From that time the asso- ciation had spread all over the kingdom of Naples, and thencj to all parts of Italy. The Carbonari it was who had prepared and brought to bear the revolution of Naples and of Piedmont in 1821, although the sect had been vehemently persecuted for some years preceding, and most unmercifully by that same King Ferdinand whom it had restored to the throne. Pope Pius VII. had excommunicated it, and the mere fact of be- longing to it was punished by death. Such monstrous rigor, far from diminishing, had increased the fascination of the sect. A halo of sombre poetry surrounded those exceptional beings, whom the popular imagination pictured as holding their as- semblies in woods and caverns at the midnight hour, and continuing their mysterious work, nothing daunted by the thunders of the Vatican, or the prospect of the scaffold. We had no hope left but in our friends in Tuscany, nor did they fall us. Three months after the return of Fantasio, two young men with a message for him came and knocked at hjs door. Their tidings were at once good and bad. The over- tures from the Vendita of Bologna had led to the most sati«- OAEBOKAEISM A GLIMPSE OF THE ELECT. 195 factory results. Carbonarism was being organized througbout Tuscany, and Vendite were already established in all the principal towns ; but a special order from tbe original Vendita at Bologna, confined the work to Tuscany alone, with an ex- press prohibition against going beyond. This ■vfras indispen- sable, said they, for securing secresy and unity. Each prov- ince had its centre of action limited to the province itself, and without any contact with those of the other provinces of the peninsula. The supreme Vendita alone, stationed in Paris, held in its grasp all the threads of these different centres, and could at any chosen moment put them in communication with each other. Our Tuscan friends could, therefore, do nothing for us, but send the name and address of one of the chief members of the Vendita at Bologna. The two young dele- gates had no directions for the goodcousins (another appellation for Carbonari) in Genoa ; but they were sure, they said, that the work was progressing here as elsewhere, for the sect was everywhere. What was to be done 1 There was but one way to break the spell : to go to Bologna. Fantasio made up his mind to this, and went for a passport. To get a passport in those times was a state-aifair. " What particular business had he at Bologna 1" Fantasio said that his 'business wijs, first to see that famous city, and next to examine and compare some very rare manuscript copies of the Divina Commedia, which were only to be found in the library of the accademia at Bologna. " If his business were not more pressing than that he might wait. Bologna and the library of the accademia were not likely to fly away from one day to another. He had been into Tuscany last year, had he not ? then he had better stay quietly at home for the present and rest." So to arbi- trariness was superadded derision. Fantasio had to remain and champ the bit. We were introduced — Caesar, Sforza, and I, with a few others — to the two emissai'ies from Tuscany, the day before their departure. How small did I feel myself in the presence of these two young men, who had been chosen to stake their life in the national cause ! I scarcely thought I was worthy 196 LOEENZO BENONI. to shake hands with them. I could have fallen at their feet and worshipped. The conversation naturally turned upon the association, on which were centred all our thoughts and hopes. The deep impression they had received as to its extent and power, was very catching. Carbonarism was an immense net that enveloped all Europe. A sign from the supreme Vendita in Paris, could set the whole continent on fire. The kingdom of Naples alone counted forty thousand affiliated members. The initiated of the mysterious association were to be found on the steps of the throne, and in the most humble cottage. The judge upon his judgment-seat, and the accused in the dock, by means of an imperceptible sign, recog- nised each other as brothers. A man who had been condemned to death (his name and the country where the thing had hap- pened were quoted), and who was to have been executed the next^day, had had his fetters loosened, and been furnished with the means of escape during the night. By a word which the prisoner. had dropped, one of the guards charged with the watch had discovered him to be a brother Carbonaro, and aided in his escape. The two emissaries had a special message for the supreme Vendita in Paris. Paris ! the unknown ! the infinite ! The supreme Vendita ! A something crowned with clouds charged with thunder ! Names v/ere whispered, names which I had never heard pronounced, or met with in my reading from my earliest youth, without a thrill of reverential awe! — names which in my judgment represented demi-gods — Lafayette, Lamarque, Foy, etc., etc. My heart swelled, my head grew giddy, a passionate longing to achieve some great deed took possession of me. How fortunate were these young men — how I admired, how I envied them ! Two handsome, noble, sincere young fellows, if ever there were such, firmly believing every word they said, and ready to bear witness to the truth of it with their blood ! One of them fell but the other day, combating the Austrians in a suburb of Bologna. Honor to thee, brave Marliani ! The occurrences I have just retraced are the only ones of any note in the two years we have skipped over, and of SAN SKCONDO. 197 which it was necessary to apprize the reader, in order that he should understand what is to follow. I now resume my narrative. We are in the country. My mother having had a had cough throughout the winter, which persisted in spite of the change of season, the physicians had advised her to try the effect of country air — not that of my mother's own villa, which was too sharp for her, hut one milder and less dry. So we had hired a small house at San Secondo, one of those numerous valleys into which the magnificent vale of the Bisagno unwinds itself. It was a lovely secluded spot, green as an emerald, and quiet as an unexplored forest of the New "World. The house which we inhahited was not large, hut neat and comfortable ; the view from the windows, though circum- scribed, was really beautiful. A wide meadow, animated by herds of cattle grazing peacefully, and tinkling their bells, extended along the front, while a belt of luxuriant vegetation rose on the other three sides. At the bottom of the meadow wound the bed of the torrent, over which was thrown a wood- en bridge of the most picturesque aspect. On the opposite side stood a long avenue of aged cj-presses, at the very farthest end of which were the parsonage and the modest village church, with its slender steeple shooting boldly above the trees, as if to catch the first rosy tints of the rising sun. The peculiar charm of this little landscape lay in its completely pastoral character. The house was sheltered from the norlh wind by Mount Fasce, which rose behind, and whose rich vegetation was already beginning to glow with warm autumnal tints. Fantasio's abode was but a short mile distant from us. See out there, beyond the church, on the slope facing us, that white house with green blinds. We distinguish it perfectly through the trees from our windows. That is Fantasio's casi- no. Most frequently he would come at early dawn, and saunter up Mount Fasce with us, but very slowly, for my mother was of the party, and we were afraid of her getting tired. We would stop at a certain height, make her a comfortable seat 198 LORENZO BENONI. of moss and fern, and wait for the coming of the new-born day. Far, far below our feet, spread the wide, the glorious Mediter- ranean, ever varying, ever beautiful, which, with its gentle swell, seemed as though it saluted the rising sun with a thrill of love and pleasure. Sometimes it liy^as our turn to go over early with our guns to Fantasio, and then to wander among the vineyards on the hill-side in pursuit of game. How delightful was that hill with its soft air, all redolent of the perfume of a thousand wild flowers, and its magnificent view of the panorama of the port and city of Genoa the Superb ! Often did we forget the game, and spend hours in silent contemplation, while our souls thrilled with vague but delicious aspirations, rose like those larks, which, starting from beside our feet, would wing their upward way, and lose themselves to sight in the celestial azure. Oh ! why, thought we, should there be bad govern- ments to prevent us from enjoying in peace ,these lovely works of God, and being happy. Alas ! we were far from happy ! A plethora of enthusiasm^ which found no object on which to expend itself, an exu- berance of living power within us, which, for want of employ- ment, wasted away in sterile regret — this was the evil which, like rust, did eat away our lives. Our utter inability to effect any good, or what appeared to us to be good, gnawed, like an undying worm, at . our hearts. Fantasio had written twice to the two 'emissaries, in order to obtain information, but had received no answer. Suppose he himself were to go to Paris! But how obtain a passport ? What a pity that our uncle the canon was not a canon of the cathedral of Bologna ? Suppose we were to realize Fantasio's plan of association ! We were in great perplexity. Sforza and Alfred sometimes came to see UB (Alfred had returned from Pisa, M. D., within the last month), and from them we concealed none of our most secret thoughts. To Sforza it seemed that we made much ado about nothing ; and his notion was, that, to overthrow the govern- ment, we had but to take a flag with the Italian colors, go into the street with it, and cry, " Italy for ever ! Liberty for ever !" and the thing would be done. Alfred stared and 199 looked puzzled, as he used to do of old when Csesar and I talked in his hearing of princesses and subterranean treasures. "But where are those Carbonari? Where in the world do they hide themselves ?" Such was the chorus that ended all our conversations. Our disappointment in this respect preyed much on my mind, but was n^t the sole cause of uneasiness within me. I had felt of late a sense of vague discomfort, a want of interest in all things, a sort of void in my life, never experienced before. Especially since I had been in the country, strange feelings would steal over me at times, swell in my bosom, and fill my eyes with tears. The sight of that beautiful rejoicing nature, instead of cheering, saddened and oppressed me. At certain moments, I had a morbid desire for solitude, and often spent whole hours seated at the foot of a tree, in the most distant corner of our remote valley, lost in undefined revery. Oh ! that I could but seize on its passage one of those confused images, one of those daughters of air that float through my fancy, like the atoms of dust dancing in a sunbeam ! How far off were the times when I used to dream of princesses with golden locks and coral lips ! I was now quite alive to the beauty of my lovely countrywomen. One of my cousins had lately man-ied, and the sight of the young couple at the wed- ding party had wrought a sudden change within me. The two young people looked so beautiful, so happy, so much in love with each other, that I quite envied them. Not that I partic- ularly wished to be in my Cousin Peter's place, but I wished I could be as much beloved as he was. It must be so delight- ful to love and to be loved. Life thus intertwined must double the pleasure of existence. The rector of San Secondo often came to spend the evening with us, and sometimes we in turn would go to the parsonage. This rector enjoyed at sixty-five a green old age, and was a man of patriarchal simplicity, half priest, half peasant. In- stead of making long sermons to his parishioners, he made roads for them, he repaired the bridge, he mowed the grass, and got in the harvest for those who might be sick. We often met at the parsonage another rector of a neighboring village, 200 LOEENZO BENONI. who was very intimate with ours— -an old, corpulent, asthmatic ex-monk, looking as if, one of these days, his fat would choke him» The talk was often of politics ; the two priests were liberals, and made no scruple of finding plenty of fault with the government. The ex-monk was the more violent of the two. He had been made a freemason in the time of the French, and gloried in it. His marking peculiarity was a detestation of all monks in general, and of that order to which he had belonged in particular. His politics were summed up in this saying, which he was never tired of repeating, " Hang all monks!" In one corner of the room the daughter of the rector's housekeeper sat spinning, a strange-looking peasant girl of sixteen. Santina was her name, but we called her the Gipsy, for, in- truth, she had the black glossy hair and rich brown complexion of a gipsy. Her large eyes were dark and bright, and her look as piercing as an arrow. At first sight her countenance had something repulsive, but when once you were accustomed to it, you discovered a peculiar charm in it, which grew upon you. Santina never lost one word of our conversation, which she followed with intense interest, rarely taking a part, but always, when she did, by some very original remark. Everything in the expression of her face, and in her bearing, bespoke a nature full of passionate workings under restraint. With the exception of Alfred and Sforza, we had few visiters. My father, who had no taste for the country, came seldom to see us — perhaps once in a fortnight. As to Uncle John, and my eldest brother, who was getting into good prac- tice as a lawyer, they were confined to the town by business, except on Sunday, when they came and spent the day at San Secondo. But we went often into town, which was an hour and a half 's walk. Oaesar, Fantasio, and I, invariably went in and came out all three together. I was accordingly not a little surprised one morning to find that they had set off very early for the town, without acquainting me. They returned in the evening without a word of explanation. Some days after they went off in the same way. I was extremely puz- zled, but said nothing. Another day I came unawares upon ETJEKKA. 201 them in a very animated conversation; they suddenly broke off at my approach, and appeared embarrassed. We often talked politics as before, but I remarked that the name of the Carbonari never passed their lips, any more than if Carbonari had never existed. No doubt of it, the thing is found. The awful enigma, which we have been hunting after for months and months, is unravelled at last. But why do they not tell me the good news 1 Do they distrust me ? Impossible ! What is the use of my torturing my brain about the matter ? If they do not speak, it is because they dare not speak. I did not risk the slightest c[uestion which could have the appear- ance of courting confidence. The mystery concealed under the silence of the companions of my youth, was so sacred in my eyes that it even excluded curiosity. Nevertheless there was a sort of cloud between them and me. I was not at ease in their presence, as I feared being a restraint upon them. They also, Osesar especially, were uneasy before me. One morning my brother came into my room early. " Had he not left his gun here yesterday evening ? I guessed at once that the^ gun was a pretext. Caesar hunted after it in every corner of the room. He sat down and complained of the heat, which was by no means oppressive. He "walked backward and forward, and talked of indifferent matters, but it was evident that something weighed on his mind. Just as he was leaving the room he suddenly turned round, came to me, took my hand, and hurriedly let fall the following words : " It hurts me to have a secret from you, but this secret is not mine, and — you must not be angry with me. Perhaps I fail in my duty in saying even so much, but I can stand it no longer !" In the course of the day Fantasio took me aside and said, " You have guessed. Have a little patience. The only question is one of a few months' delay. There is an objection on account of age, but we will see and get over that. In the meantime be of good cheer, and especially try to save as much money as you can." So I was too young ! How unlucky ! I would willingly have given one, two, ten years of my life to be of age. 9'« 202 LOEENZO BENOm. From that moment every cloud was dispelled from between my young companions and me. I lessened my expenses ; I smoked less ; I grew avaricious ; and prepared myself in meditation and silence for my initiation into mysteries which I burned yet almost dreaded to know. FOLLY SHAKKS HICK BELLS. 203 CHAPTER XXIII. INITIATION, BRIGHT DREAMS, MISGIVINGS, HIGH-WROUGHT ANTICI- PATIONS, AND PINAL DISAPPOINTMENT. Month had followed month, autumn had given place to winter, the annoyances of the university life had succeeded to the pleasant leisure of the country, and I was still in the same state of expectation — no communication of any sort with respect to the great affair, either from Csesar or from Fantasio, scarcely even a word of encouragement. Fantasio, however, had of late wished to know how much money I possessed, warning me to have my silver pieces changed into gold, and to carry it about me, " for," said he, " you may be called unawares, and you had better be ready to answer the summons when the hour shall strike !" Fantasio repeated this last phrase several times, and dwelt upon it with a peculiar emphasis. We were in the midst of the carnival, and Folly shook her bells most gay ly — dances and feasting everywhere. "Shall we go to-night to the veglione 1" said Caesar to me on the morning of Shrove-Tuesday ; " I have an engagement for the evening, but I will meet you there at midnight if you like." We settled the room in which we were to meet at twelve. Veglione is the name given to the fashionable public balls, which take place in the ridotto of the Carlo Felice theatre. The throng was great in the halls of the ridotto, and the entertainment exceedingly animated. It rained, and was cold without doors ; the more reason for flocking thither, where it was so pleasant, so comfortably warm. Everything looked so bright, everybody so happy -and gay! Masks were numerous, the disguises generally in very good taste — several of them splendid. It was only half-past eleven ; I had still half-an- 204 LOEENZO BENONI. hour to take a turn through the ball-room ; so I mingled in the joyous flood, which came and went, and passed through the vast suite of apartments. Dancing was going on in two or three different parts, and I could not help smilifig, as I passed along, at the recollection of my unfortunate debut in the gay science of Terpsichore, time out of mind. A cross fire of greetings, witticisms, jokes, quips, and pranks, authorized by the occasion, burst from every side, like crackers, around me. A compact group stops the way. What is it? It is -a servetta (servant-maid), true Genoese type, with her velvet spencer, national mezzaro, and short petticoats, carrying on a dialogue with a Gianduja, Piedmontese type — government and opposition face to face. " Two crowns a-month !" screams the servetta, who is always supposed to be seeking a situation, " two crowns a-month to such a one as I ! Get out with you ! — do, you ill-mannered cur !" (protracted cheers from the bystanders.) " They are all alike, these polenta eaters." (This is addressed to the public.) " Starving and penniless, they come and fatten upon us." The majority of the audience, who belong to the opposition, cheer this delicate allusion to a favorite dish of the Piedmontese, and to their proverbial poverty. Further on, a black-whiskered wet-nurse, with a wooden baby in her arms, is quizzing (the technical word for that sort of fun) a superannuated Adonis, whom she has pushed up into a corner. This wet-nurse, as I hear from my neighbors, car- ries terror wherever she goes. She knows everything about everybody. In vain the poor man, who does not relish the joke, makes desperate efforts to escape. His merciless perse- cutor follows him closely, and insists upon having the address of the shop where he bought his flaxen wig. The would-be Lovelace now grows seriously angry, which is against the rules, and so the greater the amusement. But midnight strikes, and it is time to go and join Osesar. He was not yet in the room appointed ; so I sat down, and looked upon the motley crowd that moved before me. From time to time a mask would scream out my name, or shake hpr finger threateningly at me. Two black-masked dpmino^s THE TWO DOMINOES. 205 Stopped at the threshold, and looked around, as if in search of somebody ; then they darted toward me. The taller of the two called mo by my name. " What are you doing all alone ?" " Looking at fools, as you see." " Expecting some one 1" chimed in the short domino, evi- dently a man, but accoutred as a woman. " Exactly so ; expecting somebody." " A lady, I'll lay any wager V continued the short one. " A black-whiskered one, at all events," said I. " A beautiful fair one ; I know her," added the tall domino. " If so, you know more than I do." " I know her name, and will whisper it to you." The tall domino stooped, and let fall into my ear these words — " The hour has struck !" I started as with an electric shock, and said, rising, "At last ! I am ready." " Then follow us !" They led the way through the thronged rooms, down the stairs, and into the street. I followed closely at their heels ; and so we entered an obscure neighboring alley, where my leaders stopped. " I beg your pardon," said the taller of them, " but it is indispensable that we should bind your eyes." I nodded acquiescence, and a handkerchief was tied round my head. It was cold, wet, and dark, and we were all wrapped in our cloaks. As directed, I tui-ned the collar of mine up round my face. My companions took me each by one arm, and so we proceeded in perfect silence, sometimes to the right, sometimes to the left, and sometimes, as it appeared to me, turning back again. Two persons, as far as I could judge by the sound of steps, followed near. At length we stopped. I had not the slightest idea where we were. I heard a key turn in a lock ; in we went, and up two flights of stairs. A door was pushed open, a passage traversed, and we had reached our destination. My eyes were now unbound, and I found myself in a vast chamber, rather richly tlwin elegantly furnished. A huge fire turned in an enormous chimney, and a heavy lamp, witli an 206 LORENZO BENOm. • alabaster globe, sbed a mild, soft light around. There was a thick, dark-red carpet upon the floor ; a wide drapery, in flow- ered damask of the same color, hung in rich folds at the upper end of the room, and probably concealed an alcove. We were five persons in the room : the two who had been my escort, two others, equally shrouded in black dominoes — apparently those who had followed us — and myself. The tall, black domino, who appeared to be the chief, and whom I shall henceforth call the president, placed himself in an arm-chair ; the two last-comers seated themselves upon chairs on his right and- left, and the domino dressed as a woman, behind him. The presi- dent then motioned to me to advance, which I did, and there I stood facing the four men, and in front of the alcove. After a short pause, a kind of examination began. It was the tall domino who spoke, and he always addressed me in the second person singular. " What was my name, Christian name, and age V I told them. " Did I guess the purpose of my presence there 1" I believed I did. " Did I persist in the intention of entering the confraternity of the Good Coztsins ?" I did with all my heart. " Had I formed a clear idea of the terrible duties that I took upon myself? Did I know that, as soon as I should have taken the solemn oath, my arm, my faculties, my life, my whole being, would no longer belong to myself, but to the order ? Was I ready to die a thousand times rather than re- veal the secrets of the drder ? Was I ready blindly to obey, and to abdicate my will before the will of my superiors in the order ?" Of course I was. If I had been told to open the window and throw myself out of it, head foremost, I should not have hesitated. " What claim had I to enter into the brotherhood of free men V I had none save my love for my country, and my unaltera- ble determination to contribute to its liberation, or to die in BEWABK 1 207 the littempt. As words to this effect gushed forth, hot as lava, from my inaer soul, I saw or thought I saw the curtains of the alcove gently move. Was it an illusion, or was there some one hidden behind 1 I did not dwell upon the circumstance, for what signified a mystery more or less in this great mys- tery? The examination'having been brought to a close, the presi- dent made me kneel down, and repeat the form of oath, which he pronounced in a loud and distinct voice, dwelling with em- phasis on the phrases most pregnant with meaning. This done, he added : " Take a chair and sit down ; you may do so now that you are one of us." I obeyed. A name of adoption was then chosen for m,e, and some mysterious words and signs, by which I could make myself known to my brethren of the order, were imparted to me, but with an express injunction not to use them except in cases of necessity. " I must now," added the president, " give you some expla- nations and directions. You now belong to the first grade of the order, which, however, is only a stage of probation. You have no rights, not even that of presentation ; you have only duties, but these will be easy. Keep your secret religiously, wait patiently, in a spirit of faith and submission, and hold yourself ready for the moment of action. In due time you will know the Vendita of which you are to form part, and the chief from whom you will have to receive direct orders. In the meanwhile, if there are any orders for you, they will be transmitted by the cousin who has presented you, and whom you already know. The order to which you belong has eyes and ears everywhere — and from this moment, wherever you may be, whatever you may do, it will see you. Bear this in mind, and act accordingly. The sitting is at an end." Here the president rose, and through the beard of his mask kissed me on each cheek, and on the mouth. All present did the same. I had a certain sum to pay, destined to the poor and infirm among the brethren; my eyes were once more bound ; and we went out. The way back was shorter than it had been in going, but quite as irregular. " We will separate here," said the voice of the tall domino as we stopped ; " pur- 208 LOEENZO BENONI. sue your way without looking back : this is the first act of obedience that I require of you." So saying, he untied the handkerchief which covered my eyes. Obedient to his order, I went on without turning, and came out upon the Piazza of the Carlo Felice theatre. The street whence I issued was that same dark alley, where, two hours before, I had joined my mysterious companions, and where they had blindfolded me. I should have liked to take a good walk, but it rained hard, so I went home to bed. I was too much excited to sleep. The scene in which I had just acted a part had been, from its very simplicity most im- pressive to me. Freemasons and Carbonari, I had been told, were fond of surrounding their initiations with a certain pomp of phantasmagoria, calculated to strike forcibly the mind of the neophyte ; and I had expected at least a great display of sym- bolical forms, and drawn daggers. Now, in this I had been most agreeably disappointed. There had been nothing in my reception but what was simple and dignified. These were the men I wanted — men in earnest, add" without fuss about them. The tall domino had captivated my fancy — I wondered who he could be. A chief certainly, to judge by the deference the others showed toward him ; but who was he 1 His Italian was far more pure and more harmonious than is common among Genoese, and at the same time less afiected than the language of the Tuscans. I should say he was a Eoman. Then the apartment into which I had been introduced, was it the one in which helived 1 If so, he must be wealthy, and belong to the first classes of society, for the furniture of the room where my initiation had taken place bespoke habits of luxury and com- fort which were not those of the middling class of my country- men, even when rich. The fire in the chimney, for instance, was quite an aristocratical indulgence, which few of the burgh- ers, however well off, would allow themselves. As to the two last-come dominoes, I would have wagered anything that they were Caesar and Fantasio. The height was precisely theirs, and an indescribable something in their way of giving me the embrace, had been to me like a revelation confirmatory of the fact. It was true my initiation had taught me nothing, and I GUESSES AKD ASI'lEATIONS. 209 ■was ju^t where I had been before ; but the rest would come in time. Let me consider. What could I do to deserve the con- fidence of the association, to rise in rank, and so acquire the means of being useful ? How I wished to achieve some great exploit, but I could not tell what. Ah ! if that floating image, which has constantly haunted me of late, and which I always cherish in my secret soul, would take a body, and encourage me, if only by a gesture, of what should I not be capable ! . . . . In the midst of these vague thoughts, sleep overtook me, and the impression of the past hours, taking fantastic shapes, were reproduced in my dreams. In the morning I made haste to claim recognition from Ctesar, by means of a mysterious sign. Caesar showed himself agreeably surprised, as afterward did Fantasio, at this piece of intelligence. I followed the example of their reserve, and kept to myself my conjectures with respect to the two dbmi- noes of the preceding evening. I told Fantasio that in future it was from him I was to wait for orders. Would that they might quickly come ! I thanked him, at the same time, for having proposed and got me received, in spite of the objection of age. It had not been without some difficulty, hinted Fan- tasio, that he had succeeded. The order, as he said, was very strict on this point. So at last I have reached Archimedes' resting point, and may now move heaven and earth ! The wish that has tantalized me so long is at length realized ! I am one of the free men — I have brethren throughout the whole world — n>y life has now an aim ! How proud I feel of myself — with what pro- found pity do I look down upon the mass of ray profane com- panions ! I dream of dangers, of sacrifice, of success, bought by a noble death — of glory — of what not? But a man can not always dream. So I began a course of studies in physiognomy, of which Lavater himself might have been jealous. Taking it for granted that two persons out of ten whom I met in the street belonged to the sect, it remained forme to determine which were the two elect, and this could not be done without a close scrutiny of all the individuals who passed. That fair-haired young man — was he one? or that 210 LORENZO BENONI. fine dark fellow yonder? Of course, all those who had re- markable features or a foreign air, all those in particular who wore the fbrbidden mustaches, could not fail to be Carbonari ! Two or three times I hazarded the signs without obtaining any answer, but not without trembling from head to foot at the thought of the injunction I had received on this head, and of the invisible eye which watched all my motions. As to the tall domino, I identified him at least ten times with ten differ- ent persons. Thus I employed the leisure left me by the order, which chose to prolong my honey-moon beyond the usual term, apparently that I might enjoy to the full all the sweets of our mystical union. Two months had glided past since the day of my affiliation, and to my question fifty times repeated, " Any orders for me 1" Fantasio had as often answered me by a significant shrug of the shoulders. I began to fret and grumble. Not that my faith in the extent or the power of the sect was in the least degree shaken, but I thought it humiliating, with all my good will, to be left aside like useless lumber. As to Caesar, who, although my senior in the order by four months at least, was apparently in the same predicament with myself, if he did not explicitly say that I was right, he showed by expressive ges- tures that he rather shared my impressions. Neither was Fantasio satisfied ; but from the fear of injuring discipline, he tried to dissemble his discontent. " A little more patience, and I should see. One of the cousins, a traveller, was just come from Paris, hearer of definitive orders," he would add, in a mysterious tone. Very glad I was that the cousin had had a good journey ; but for my part, I confess, I should have pre- ferred something more substantial. Fantasio came to me early one morning, looking bright, and in high spirits. " Did I not tell you so, you faithless man ? I have an order ibr you." At the word " order," I pricked up my ears, like a war-horse left long at rest, at sound of trumpet. "At last?" exclaimed I, drawing a long breath of satisfac- tion, " and what is the news?" — " The news is that you must have the goodness to betake yourself, at twelve o'clock to- night, to the bridge of Carignano. We are all convoked CONVOCATION THE ACCORDION. 211 there." — " God bless you! are we really?" repliedl. "And to what purpose?" — "I can not tell," returned Fantasio; " all I know is that we are to go armed — such are the orders." Armed ! this was more than enough to fire my imagination. " Armed, did you say 1 This looks like a rising, Fantasio, does it not?" — "If it does not, I do not know what does," was the answer. ^' At all events, we shall see. Do you and Csesar come, and call for me at my house about half-past ten o'clock — good-by !" No doubt the decisive moment is come at last. If it were not for action, of what use would arms be ? All my enthu- siasm rekindles ! How I reproach myself for my unreasonable distrust — how odiously absurd I seem to myself! I will shed the last drop of my blood, if need be, to make amends. Not a moment to be lost. Quick ! Osesar and I ransack the house ; all the forgotten old arms we can find pass a strict exami- nation ; we make a selection, and we go out to buy ammuni- tion. — The day seemed dreadfully long. At last ten o'clock struck. In a moment we were armed like two highwaymen, each of us with a sword-stick, two pocket and two horse pistols. Thus accoutred, and enveloped to the chin in our cloaks, we sallied forth with the resolute step of men detennined to con- quer or to die. Fantasio was ready, armed to the teeth, and we set out arm in arm. From the Acquaverde, where Fantasio lived, to the bridge of Carignano is a pretty good distance, but it did not appear long to us, so earnestly were we discussing impending events. We laid down our plan of campaign, and solemnly engaged, whatever might happen, to keep together, and not be separated in the aflfray. The night was just such as con- spirators could wish, dark as pitch, and pretty cold for the season. As we came upon the bridge of Carignano, some notes from an accordion were heard. The melancholy modulations took me quite by surprise, and had a singularly powerful effect upon me. A chill ran through me from head to foot. Fan- tasio pressed my arm. The accordion was the instrument adopted by the Good Cousins to transmit signals to a distance. We made toward the point whence the sounds proceeded, and 212 LORENZO BENONI. found a man wrapped in a cloak, with whom we exchanged some words of recognition. The man bade us follow him. We took to the left of the church of Santa Maria, and passing through a little lane, came to a solitary open square space, where once stood the palace of Fieschi. Here we were told to stop, and had to wait some time. The retired and secluded spot was well chosen for the occasion. '• It seems that we are the first," whispered I to Fantasio, seeing no one. " Look to the left of the square," answered Fantasio, and you will see that we are not alone." And in truth, by dint of straining my eyes, I did think that I distinguished on the spot to which he pointed, some human forms. " This square is very small," observed I, " and if the convocation is general, I do not know how it can hold us all. Have you any idea of the number of Good Cousins in Genoa?" — " Thousands and thousands," an- swered Fantasio ; " but it is probable there may be partial convocations at several points." Our guide, who had vanished, now reappeared, and desired us to follow him onward, wliich we did. A movement toward the left of the square took place simultaneously among the living shadows scattered about, till, at the word "Halt!" from our guide, all stopped. There were four small distinct groups, including ours, standing at short distances from each other — in all, fifteen persons. I counted them, but without being able to recognise individuals, wrapped in cloaks and in the shade of night. A short pause. Twelve began to strike at the church of Oarignano, close by. "With the first stroke, a tall figure, hitherto concealed in a dark corner, rose to view, like a ghost from underground, and pronounced in a hollow voice the following words : — " Pray for the soul of of Cadiz, sentenced to death by the High Vendita, for perjury and treason to the order. Before the twelfth stroke has died away, he will have ceased to live." The clock tolled slowly on. The echo of the last chime was still vibrating, when the voice added, "Disperse!" and each group moved ofi". What efiect this scene — well got up certainly, only too well — may have had upon the rest of the spectators, I never had an opportunity of knowing; but the too evident mclo- 213 dramatic arrangement of the wliole thing was an entire failure as regarded us three. It might perhaps have been otherwise, had our minds been less worked up beforehand. As it was, we saw at a glance, instinctively, that all this bloody tale was, thank God, a mere fiction, and that, if our cousin of Cadiz met no worse mishap than the one alluded to by the sepulchral voice, he might live to a good old age. So the stirring emo- tions of this endless day, this mystery, this arming, had all been for the mere purpose of figuring in a miserable stage trick, in bad taste, and of listening to a goblin story scsrce fit to frighten children. It was too bad. Fantasio yras in a state of consternation. He allowed that we had been played upon, but he threw all the blame on the big- wigs of the order, as he called them ; all men of a certain age, and distrustful of youth ; unwilling, therefore, to employ us in any serious matter, but anxious at the same time to keep alive our ardor, and maintain our high idea of the sect. Not- withstanding all this, it was no less true and certain that the order was powerful — that it had roots everywhere, and was not to be trifled with. " We are in for it now," said Fantasio, " and so we must remain. " Perhaps it would have been better to have realized my former plan of association ; but regret is vain, and oxir oath prevents anything of the kind." (One of the articles of the oath, in fact, forbade the Good Cousins joining any other secret society.) " But nothing stands in the way of our creating for ourselves an independent sphere of action. Now, this is what I propose : that each of us should sound those of his acquaintances whom he considers worthy, and secure their co-operation for the day of action. No affiliation, no oath, no secret signs, nothing of what is characteristic of secret societies. Let there be a mere verbal promise to come forth when called on. It was iu this way that in 1821 each Carbonaro surrounded himself with a number of willing adherents, who were bound by no oath, and who were called Federati. Let us do the same. We shall thus have the double advantage of giving employment to our activity, and of preparing precious elements for the triumph of the common cause. What do you say ? 214 LOKENZO BENONI. We entered with all our heart into the views of ovu- friend, and it was agreed that we should associate in this our inde- pendent work Alfred and Sforza (the latter of whom, by-the- by, was the first on Fantasio's list of presentation for a Gar- bonaro), and that we should begin operations on the morrow. We might have said, on this very day, for it was three o'clock in the morning, when, tired of talking and wandering about, we parted from Fantasio. Fortunately, this time oxir long nocturnal walk had given umbrage to no one, not even to the carabineers, of whom we had met several couples, and who let us pass undisturbed. SANTINA. 215 CHAPTEE XXIV. INTOXICATING EFFECTS OF A LETTER THE INVISIBLE GODDESS BECOMES VISIBLE BLISSFUL MEETING. That same day-, when I came in to dinner, Santina handed me a letter. My reader will remember Santina, the daughter of the rector's housekeeper at San Secondo — that strange- looking girl, whom we used to call the Gipsy. At the request of her mother, mine took her into our service. A very odd, wilful creature, this Santina ; sometimes skulking away for hours, heedless of the call of any one ; sometimes sulking at one or other of the family, so far as neither to speak to, nor look at him for days ; but so quick Vithal, so intelligent, so considerate, so attached, that in spite of her whims she was a favorite with everybody at home. '■ Who sent it 1" said I, taking the letter, which Santina held toward me. " I don't know," answered the girl moodily ; " the man who brought it said you would know." It was a small letter, glossy, elegant, and perfumed. The seal represented a little Oupid with his finger on his lip, and the motto was " Discretion." While I was examining the seal, Santina added, " It is a lady's letter." " How do you know?" " I am sure of it ; see if it isn't." I opened the note, and cast my eye over the few lines it contained. Santina was right. I felt as if a flame thrilled through me from head to foot. " Didn't I tell you so 1" returned Santina, with a curl of her lip. 216 LORENZO BENONI. "Now, don't be foolish, Sanlina !" and away I sped to my own room. The letter ran thus : — " I know your secret. I know to what a noble task you have devoted yourself. Souls like yours do not want encour- agement ; but you may perhaps not be sorry to learn that a friend takes an interest in you, and follows yon with her best wishes. If this sympathy is welcome, be to-morrow at the Acquasola between four and six o'clock in the afternoon, and wear a white camellia in your button-hole. Not a word of - this to any living soul. You do not know me, but you shall in proper time and place, if you are discreet. In the mean- while, think sometimes of her who often thinks of you." The first impression of this letter was almost painful from its very intensity. Strange, that the effects of strong joy and grief should be so near akin ! My heart ^at as if it would fly out of its prison to meet the beautiful unknown. I felt oppressed, almost suffocated, by my happiness. But this was soon over, and gave way to a gentle flow of unmixed delight. Oh, joy of joys ! oh, rapture beyond compare ! My dream of love is realized, my ideal has taken a shape and body ! I am beloved ! What intoxication in the very word ! The angel of my visions is come down from the seventh heaven to take me by the hand ! There is sometljing within me like a celes- tial concert ! All the fibres of my being vibrate in delicious harmony ! I was in the very act of covering with kisses the blessed note, when a knock at the door recalled me from my ecstacy. "What is it?" " Dinner is on the table." " Oh vile prose ! plague upon dinner ! What man can think of dining who has in his heart all the honey of Hy- mettus ? nay, who is saturated with nectar and ambrosia V Thus soliloquizing, I hid the precious letter on my heart, and down I went. At the door of the dining-room Santina stood, and frowned upon me. I knew her odd ways, and took no notice. Of course I was not hungry, and could not eat. I longed for the end of the meal, to be once more alone with my secret. At last we rose from table, and I was free. A HEAET-OPICNER. 217 Once more in my room, I locked myself in, drew fortli the darling epistle, spread it out upon the table before me, and sat there gazing upon it, as if my eyes could conjure out of it the name, the surname, and address of the fair writer. But as the words remained unmoved, and there was no appearance of a miraculous working among the letters, I soon grew weary of this fruitless contemplation, and restless to boot ; so I took my hat, and went out. I walked straight on, without any aim, like one in a dream, yet hurrying forward, as if upon some errand of life and death. Human figures moved around me, as in a mist, and I distinguished no one. At last I saw that I was in the country, and alone. Here I sfackened my pace, and turned into a solitary path. It was in early April. The air was clear, the verdure so fresh, the sun so bright ! Only yesterday everything looked cold and wintry. What a wonderful change ! All hail to thee, sweet nature ! never have I admii-ed thee so much, never have I felt thee so intensely as at this momeilt. Art thou really more lovely than usual, or is it the joy I bear within my heart, that casts this beauteous coloring over thee ? A feeling of infinite tenderness overflowed my whole being, I loved the very cows that were grazing quietly in the sunshine. An old woman came up to me, and asked charity. Her hus- band was- sick in the hospital, and she was itiiserable. The very word sounded in my ear like a discord, almost like a reproach. Ought any one to be unhappy on such a day as this ? " Here, my good woman ?" and I gave her all the little money that I had. Would I were rich, she should have bread, at least, secured to her for life. I would have done it, and told her so. She looked at me, half thankful half amazed. " It is a lovely day, is it noti^good dame 1" — "Fine weather enough for sowing the crops,' if it does but last," answered she with a doubtful shake of the head. If it does but last ! Why should it not ? How eternally full of misgivings these old folks are ! Who can my unknown be ? what her station in life 1 what the style of her beauty ? that she was lovely was a settled point, but there remained to be determined the character of 10 218 LOEENZO BENONI. her loveliness ; is she fair or dark, tall or small, slender like a fairy, or majestic like a Juno ? Such were the questions that I asked myself for the hundredth time as I went along, and which for the hundredth time remained without an answer. But the riddle of riddles, that which left not even an opening to conjecture, was, " how could she have got at my secret ?" Could she belong to the order? I had heard Fantasio say more than once, that women were sometimes admitted. But if such were the case, was it likely that she should have re- sisted the temptation of letting me know, which she could by the simplest written sign, that she was a " cousin." And then, the supposition of her belonging to the sect did not solve my difficulty, for' the affiliated did not know each other. For one instant the idea flashed across me, that my mysterious corres- pondent was no other than the domino accoutred like a woman ; but I rejected the suggestion with horror. "Was it not a prof- anation to attribute those huge feet of the short domino to my fairy queen, for whom I was sure that Cinderella's slipper would be too large ! Besides, by all my previous impressions it was settled beyond question, that the short domino was a man. By the way, what a pity she had signed no Christian name ! I should then at least have had something of. her to adore. What an odd destiny was mine, thus to pass from mysteiy to mystery ! one was no sooner solved than up started another. At all events, that of to-day would be unravelled on the evening of the morrow. Whatever she might do to pass unobserved, I was sure I should know her. T should be lynx- eyed. What a bliss to recognise her, to tell her, "Yes, yes, it is you, I know it by the beating of my heart;" to see her confusion ; to hear for the first time the sound of her voice. In such longings and imaginings I spent the rest of the day, one of the happiest in my life, for there is no happiness like that of anticipation. But it is ordained, alas ! that there should be no unmixed felicity here below. As I read the letter over again before going to bed, a circumstance I had scarcely noticed, or rather wilfully overlooked, in the morning, now startled me con- siderably. It was like one of those wounds that pass unper- THE CAMELLIA. • 219 cei\ed in the lieat of action, but the smart of which makes itself felt when the blood begins to cool. I could not now shut my eyes to a fault in spelling, a rather gross one too. The same word was misspelled twice, an aggravating circum- stance, with a double instead of a single r. These two letters stared me in the face, and made me uneasy. It was a drop of vinegar in the cup of my bliss, the crumpled rose leaf in Sybarite's bed. I could not get from before my eyes those two unlucky r's, they pursued me even in my dreams, distorting themselves into all sorts of fantastic shapes, and whirling around me like imps of Satan. Next morning, my first thought of course was my rendezvous for the afternoon, and as I felt rather shy at the idea of peram- bulating the Acquasola all alone in search of my unknown beauty, I felt the expediency of taking Alfred with me, which I knew I could do without letting him at all into my secret. For I had made up my mind to confide it to no one. It grieved me to have a secret from my bosom friends — it was the first, but discretion had been enjoined so earnestly, that I could not but feel in honor bound to observe the behest. So I went to Alfred, and merely told him that we would take a walk in the afternoon, and that he was to wait for me. It is said, that of two friends one is always the victim. The saying may be true, inasmuch as of the two there is generally one who follows the lead of the other. In this point of view, Alfred might be called my victim. He never used to ask where we were going, or why we went one way rather than another, or how long we should stay, or anything of the sort, but always let me choose for him. It was scarcely three o'clock when I called on him. My toilet was simple but irre- proachable ; my hat, an article of paramount importance with me, fitted me to a nicety, and set off my black curls to advan- tage. A white camellia, large enough to be seen at a distance, ornamented my buttonhole. Alfred was ready. " Heyday," said he on seeing me, " what a smart flower !" — "A beautiful camellia, isn't it?" and we Eallied forth. At ten minutes to four we were at the Acquasola. It was Sunday, and the avenue on the right, the most fre- 220 LOEENZO BKNONI. quented one, was already crowded. We paced it up and down several times, I staring ladies in the face for the first time in my life, but to no purpose. As the afternoon wore on, the numher of persons in the walk increased, and my task of reviewer became more and more difficult in the midst of the throng. Bless me ! how that fair-haired girl in the blue gown looked at me ! I turned short round, and dragged Alfred with me after her. "We had not gone fifty paces, when lo ! what a glance that brunette with the step of a Juno threw at me ! Another turn, about as sharp as the first, and off I set, towing Alfred in pursuit of the dark-eyed beauty. We follow her, we pass her, we let her pass. It is not she. She has not even turned her head my way. Let us go and look about us a little in the less-frequented avenue on the left. To be sure, now that I think of it, my unknown will be walking there. Love does not like crowds. We paced up and down this other avenue. In vain I opened my coat, in vain displayed my camellia to its best advantage, none of the fair paid any atten- tion to the camellia or its wearer. " Suppose we go back to the right hand avenue, it is so dusty here." — "Do you think so ?" observed Alfred, and followed me with angelic resigna- tion. Six o'clock passed, and not the least clew to my myste- rious friend. " Let us sit down a little, and look at the people passing." We were scarcely seated when the dark beauty' camg by, and looked at me again. No further doubt, it is she. And we rushed forward once more in pursuit. No, no, it is not she, unless she be a very Tiberius of dissimulation in petti- coats. We went on manoeuvring in this sort of way till night- fall. — There is an end of it. No more hope left. I was bom to be tantalized. One week, two weeks, three weeks elapsed, and no tidings. What can a man in such a predicament do but write sonnets 1 Petrarch did, and so did I; but Petrarch had a great advan- tage over me, which may partly account for the superiority of his performance ; he knew very well the color of the eyes and hair, and the number of syllables forming the name of the beauty he sang, while I was in total ignorance of all these particulars. Still I scribbled, and scribbled, and might have THK ITAI-IAN COLOKS. 221 scrit)l)lecl on to this day, had not a fresh note come to stop me. This time, thank my stars, there was no misspelling. It is true that the letter was very short. " The white camellia has given much pleasure ; thank you If you go tomorrow morning at nine to the church of the Cap- pucini, you will find at the farther end of the last hench but one a remembrance from your unknown friend. Adieu." These few lines cost me a night's sleep. I went the next morning to the church, and found at the spot appointed a mag- nificent nosegay of white and red camellias, forming the three Italian colors, white, red, and green. To seize the nosegay, rush home, and throw myself in adoration before it, was the work of a moment. I shall not detail all the foolish, fond things I did with respect to my nosegay. Such of my readers as are in love — and I hope for their sakes they may be nu- merous — would find it all charming; but those who are not, would think it extremely insipid. Suffice it to say, that my heart feasted upon these flowers for weeks ; and that when it began to crave new food, my mysterious correspondent con- trived for me another agreeable surprise of the same kind. This time it was a beautiful purse — the three colors again, upon which my initials were worked in hair — her own hair, of course, black as jet. Could it have been of any other color ? — prescience of love ! with just such hair I had dreamt of her ! Perhaps it may be thought that love had made me forget politics. Far from it. I owe myself this justice to say that, if my love-adventure had given additional excitement to the romantic turn of my imagination, it had also elated what I may venture to call the more generous faculties of my soul. 1 felt it a sacred duty to her who had cast her eyes upon me, to render myself as worthy of her as possible ; and having no opportunity for more brilliant deeds, I pursued with ardor the task — certainly humble, but useful, and not unaccompanied by danger — which, in concert with Fantasio and Caesar, I had imdertaken about two months before. And not only had I succeeded in gathering round me a certain number of willing followers, but I had found an unexpected, and most precious auxiliary, in the person of the young Prince d'Urbino. 222 LOEENZO BENONl. Of him I had completely lost sight since I had left schopl, till one day, some five or six weeks back, whom should I alight on in the street but my hot-tempered colleague in the consul- ship? We met at once like old friends, and it was quite a treat to see my quondam comrade's plump, rosy, open face glow at the recollection of our childish feats. There was scarcely any change in the outward man — he had grown some- what stouter — and none in the inward one. The Prince d'Ur- bino, or rather plain Giuseppe, as he insisted on being called, was as easy and unassuming as when he had made a motion for the abolition of all titles, and as ardent a devotee of liberty and hater of tyranny as when he had condemned to ostracism one half of the second division. He had spent all his time, since leaving school, at Naples, where, to use his own expres- sion, " things were in a devil of a state, and soldiers, priests, and spies, had it all their own way." He was now as good as settled in Genoa, where he had been sent by his family to look after a lawsuit, which had already been going on for twenty years, and promised to keep going for half a century longer. I introduced him to Fantasio and to Csesar (Alfred an^ Sforza he had known of old), with whose concurrence he soon became an active associate in our secret work — I mean the federating scheme ; for of the other, that is, our participation in the sect of Carbonari, he was left in perfect ignorance. We had the most unlimited confidence in the prince, but the secret of the sect was not ours, and we made it a rule to preserve it strictly. The only deviation from this rule had been in favor of Alfred and Sforza, to whom enough had been told to let them guess the rest. But Alfred was the candidate of my choice, whom I was to put forward as soon as I should have the right of presentation ; Sforza was Fantasio's, as I have mentioned, and this made a difference. But love and politics had seriously encroached upon my studies. For almost the last half-year I had not opened a law- book, and my attendance at the lectures had become so rare within the last two months, that I entertained great misgiv- ings as to the possibility of obtaining the indispensable signa- tures from at least two of my professors. Thanks, however, FLATTEEING THE PEOFESSOE EECONNOITEING. 223 to a method of my own, which I shall explain for the gratifi- cation of the reader, I succeeded in overcoming the difficulty. About a week before the end of the q^uarter, I became very assiduous in my attendance at the lecture, and chose a con- spicuous place, as near as possible to the professor's desk. As soon as dictation was over, and the oral explanation had be- gun, I would listen to it with an interest as intense as if my life were staked upon not losing a word, and now and then indulge in nods and jerks expressive of repressed admiration. Such, alas ! is the weakness of the flesh, that no professor — no, not one — was proof against this dumb flattery ; and I rec- ommend this recipe as infallible, to all students who may par- ticularly wish to propitiate their masters. On the morning of the fifth of June — such dates are not easily forgotten — there came another note from my anony- mous correspondent. It was as neatly folded, as sweetly scented, as elegant in all respects, as the two former oiies; but there was a fresh seal, a dove with a sprig in its bill, and the motto, " 1 hear good news." The news was good indeed ! " Your unknown friend will be this evening at the Acqua- sola, in the grove on the south side of the middle fountain. You will recognise her by the nosegay of roses she will have in her hand. If you wish to know her, be there at half-past eight o'clock, not a minute sooner nor later. Adieu till then." It is easy to conceive the state of flutter and agitation into which I was thrown by this note. I should then know her at last ! How should I behave ? What should I say to her ? Suppose she were to find me awkward 1 It was not yet twelve o'clock. I had still nine hours to remain upon this sort of gridiron. To pass the time, I went to identify the spot, although I knew it perfectly, and to re- hearse in anticipation the complex emotions of the blissful meeting. Let me see : by which side shall I enter the grove ? If by either of the great avenues, I must walk for a consider- able distance within her ken, and I feel that the idea of her looking at me puts me out of countenance, only to think of it. The great avenues will not do. But there is another entrance through that winding path behind — if I could only get to the 224 LORENZO BENONI. winding path unperceived. Yes, I can manage it, if I take ■a round by tlie carriage-road — a long circuit, but what matters that ? the road is sunk below the level of the public walk, and the hedge that skirts it will screen -me from her view. That is it. I shall come iipon her almost unawares. Now, what shall be my first words to her ? I am sure I shall look like a goose. If I only knew her name ! her name would put me at ease. What a faint heart I have ! — I am as timid as a girl. The idea of meeting her glance makes me tremble. If it were only dusk, I should have more courage. After all, at half-past eight the day is on the wane, the grove is thick, and it will be darker there. A weeping-willow forms a sort of canopy over the bench on which she will be seated. A blessing on the Land that planted it ! These reflections reassured me a little ; the shades of evening would conceal my embarrassment. It was one of those intolerably hot days — thirty degrees Reaumur — which make tourists write down in their notebooks that Italians never do anything but lie idly in the shade. Pray, Mr. Tourist, get into a heated oven, and work hard there, if you can ! Well, the sun darted fire, as if he were bent upon at once exterminating mankind, by the summary process of melting them down ; and by the time I had completed my sur- vey, I was like a hissing iron plunged into water. I should have wished to go and while away an hour or two with Fan- tasio, but walking so far was beyond human possibility, and I went home. How the hours lagged ! I tried to read — impos- sible ! I tried to sleep : I was so worn out by the heat and my emotion, it would not do. I have heard of generals sleep- ing quietly on the eve of a battle, and I can understand that; but sleeping a few hours before a first rendezvous, passes the powers of flesh and blood. My sole remaining resource was to fret and fume, which I did to my heart's content : but fret and . fume as I would, time did not hasten its unchanging course, and I was e'en obliged to wait for the evening. At eight o'clock I was on the Acquasola. For fear of some unfortunate rencontre, I stole into a corner, as far from the place of meeting as the ground would allow, and kept gazing on the Mediterranean, without seeing it. The loveliness of the A WAKING DEKAM. 225 evening, the ricli tints of the setting sun, were alike lost upon me. Confused images succeeded each other in my head, like the waves of a trouhled sea. One only distinct idea floated on the surface — " in half an hour !" I was worked up to a state of spasmodic agitation. The clock of a neighboring church struck a quarter past eight. I was startled. " Already !" It seemed to me now that time went too fast : I should never be able to regain my self-possession. I rose as with a superhu- man effort, and walked on. I had to make a circuit to get to the winding path I have mentioned. I am sure I do not know how I reached it. " One step more, and I shall be within sight of the grove." I felt ready to faint. I hoped, earnestly hoped, that she had not come. She might be prevented, perhaps, by illness. The half-hour struck. A secret power, something like a spring independent of my will, forced me on. I saw distinctly two figures in white. My sight grew dim ; but I perceived, as in a mist, a hand gently extended toward me, and I rushed to receive it. Who spoke first, what was said, how I came to be by her side — of all this I have not the least recollection. I was in a waking dream. Most likely I did not speak at all, I was so moved. The interview was very short, and very little was said on either side : if I were to repeat the little which I do recollect, it would afford no meaning, unless I could also write down that which gave it so deep a meaning for us — the look, the accent, the very silence. Now, as written language has no signs for such things, I give up the task as an impossible one. Who she was, who were her parents, what was her sta- tion in life, how she had got possession of my secret — of all this I knew nothing, and I had not even thought of asking her. I only knew this, that she was passing beautiful, that her name was Lilla — a pretty name, is it not? — that, between four and five o'clock in the aftej?noon, she would walk every day with her brother on the bastions of Santa Chiara, and that every day I must go and see her. Oh, to be sure, I would not fail, even if I were to go there on my knees, and kiss her foot- steps in the dust ! This was all I knew. It was very little, and yet I did not care to know more. I yas so happy ! 10* 226 LOEENZO BENONI. She had heen gone for hours, but there I was still, sitting upon the same bench, in the Very place her gentle form had filled, feeling still the soft pressure of her hand in mind, the music of her voice still ringing in my ear. All trace of agita- tion had ceased within me, the beatings of my heart were calm and regular as an infant's, a sense of quiet beatitude pervaded my whole being. The stars shone bright, the nightingales sang very sweetly, thousands of fire-flies glanced in the air, which seemed impregnated with love. It was like a fairy dream. I remained there long, inhaling happiness at every pore, and kissing the bunch of roses she had left with me. When I went home, my mother was struck with my air of contentment. " How handsome you are this evening, my dar- ling !" said she, as she passed her hand through my hair; "I never saw you look to such advantage." " I feel so happy !" answered I, as I kissed her, blushing. " God' bless thee, my own dear son !" I went to bed repeating aloud those incomparable verses of Petrarch, " Chiare fresche dolci acque," substituting the name of Lilla for that of Laura, and I slept all night without once awaking. THE n-NKNOWN LOVED ONE. 227 CHAPTER XXV. NEW RIDDLE DISCOVERIES 1830 TWO DOCTORS ADDED TO THE STOCK DARK CLOUD BETWEEN MY SUN AND ME. The next day, going over in my mind every the slightest circumstance of my meeting of the preceding evening, the fifst impression I had received from Lilla's voice came over me again most forcibly. That intonation, which still rang in my ear — that rich and melodious Italian, which was so fascina- ting from her lips — recalled a voice and a peculiar Italian accent which I had already heard ; but when, where, from whom ? That was just what I could not recollect. In vain I ransacked my memoiy^in vain I tortured my brain — I could not find the slightest clew to the enigma. My curiosity was much roused by the circumstance, and I promised myself to catch at the first opportunity which might offer, to mention the matter to Lilla, and see if she could throw any light up- on it. But this opportunity did not soon occur. I received fresh letters from her, but there was no word of another meeting. It was impossible for me to solicit one, as I knew neither her name nor her address, and even if I had been acquainted with them I should never have dared to send her a letter without permission. It is true that I saw her every day on the ram- parts of Santa Chiara, which had become my indispensable daily walk ; but then she was always accompanied by a young man, tall, dark, and of very striking appearance — no doubt her brother — and of course I could only exchange with her a stolen glance or furtive smile. Nevertheless, I was happy. To see, admire, adore her in silence, to follow the trace left 228 LOEENZO BENONI. lay her divine foot, was more than enough for bliss. How beautiful she was, with her long flowing hair curling around her neck, her slim and elegant figure, her step so resolute, yet so girlish ! One day a stoppage was occasioned in the road by two carriages running against each other, and I could not help passing near enough to her to feel and hear the rustle of her silk dress against my coat. Another time, as I was fol- lowing her, she quietly dropped a rose. How many kisses did I give that flower! — with what tenderness did I nurse it! — and when it was quite faded, with what pious care did I collect and preserve the withered leaves ! Happy age, when a look, the rustle of a garment, a flower, a mere nothing, suffices to make the youthful soul overflow with torrents of joy ! Lilla wrote to me one evening that she was going next morning at eight o'clock to choose some plants in a nursery- _ ground, which she named to me, near the Porta Komana. If I wished to see her I had but to go to the place, under pretext of buying flowers. Of course that was enough for me ; and at eight next morning I was already confabulating with the old nurseryman, whom I complimented on his fine collection of plants, and the excellent care with which he kept his garden. Lilla came soon after, accompanied by her maid — she never stirred from home unattended. In order to make a proper choice it was indispensable to examine in detail the rich collection before us, and as the garden was very large, this review must _of course take some time ; so we begged the gardener not to put himself out of the way on our account, but to go on with his work, while we walked round, the maid fol- lowing at some distance. We were no sooner alone than I made haste to touch upon the point that had so much awakened my curiosity. " I do not know how it is," said I, " that your voice, when heard for the first time, sounded like one not unknown to me. Can you explain this phenomenon 1" Lilla smiled, and answered, " nothing more easy. When I tell you how I came to know you, and to discover your secret, the mystery that puzzles you will be at once cleared up. Let us appear to examine this beautiful rose-tree, and listen to me." THE ALCOVE. 229 " I have but one near relation left, the young man with whom you have seen me. My brother and I love each othei tenderly, and we live together. One day at the end of the last carnival — it was Shrove-Tuesday — Alberto, who is always kindly thinking of what may give me pleasure, came and told me that he had arranged a party for me in the evening; I was to go to the opera with one of my cousins and her husband, and after the opera we were all three to put on fancy dresses, and spend a part of the night at the veglione. Alberto had some engagement and could not accompany me, but he prom- ised to come and meet us in the course of the night at the veglione. " That evening the theatre was lighted with extraordinary brilliancy ; the house was full, and the heat oppressive. To- ward the end of the opera I was seized with such a violent headache that I was forced to give up the second part of the intended amusement, though sorely against my will, and I begged my cousin to bring me home about midnight. My brother's apartment and mine face each other on the same landing-place. Just as I was entering my room, it struck me that I would see whether Alberto might not also have come in. His door was open, and I entered. Seeing his lamp lighted, and a blazing fire upon the hearth, I concluded that he would be at home ere long, and thought I would wait and tell him why I had returned. I seated myself in an arm-chair by the side of the fire, and soon fell into a doze. " How long after I do not know, the sound of footsteps awoke me with a start. Evidently several persons were ap- proaching; I jumped up frightened, and mechanically con- cealed myself behind the curtain of the alcove. Thence I witnessed that scene you know of with an emotion which you may picture to yourself." Modesty obliges me to sup- press the part of Lilla's account relative to the impression made upon her by my looks and bearing during the initiation. "There was a moment," continued she, "in which you fixed your eyes so intently on the alcove that I trembled lest I should be discovered. I perfectly understood the importance of the secret I had unintentionally become acquainted with, and, 230 LORENZO BKNONI. notwithstanding Alberto's tender affection for me, I dreaded the moment when he should become aware that I knew things which it was not intended I should know. Luckily my brother went out, and I made the best of my way from the room. It was Alberto who always spoke that evening. His voice is very like mine, which will explain the phenomenon you have just now mentioned." Lilla's time was limited, and we broke off here for the pres- ent; but, the garden was too beautiful, and too convenient a place, for us not to feel inclined to visit it again. So to it we returned, at first once a-week, then twice, then .... well, never mind how often. The fact is, we became great friends with the old gardener, and strolled about his grounds as freely as if they had been our own. Lilla was very fond of chatting, and from one discovery to another I soon came to be acquainted with all that I wished to know about her. Her father had belonged to one of the most illustrious fami- lies of the Genoese aristocracy. When very young he had fallen in love with an actress and married her. This marriage, considered as quite derogatory to him, alienated from him the greater number of the privileged class among whom he had been accustomed to move. He would have easily consoled himself for this, so great was the happiness with which his loving wife filled his existence, but he was not proof against the slights and humiliation systematically inflicted upon the woman he adored. So he left Genoa in disgust, and retired to Eome, not far from which he possessed large estates. He there became the father of two children, born at an interval of six years, Alberto and Lilla. The birth of the latter robbed her mother of life. The widower bestowed upon his children, and especially upon Lilla, all the love that he had given to their mother. They were both brought up in the midst of every comfort and luxury which a princely fortune could pro- cure. Lilla especially, by nature rather petulant and self- willed, became a spoiled child. Her every wish, her every caprice was gratified ; she never met with the slightest con- tradiction. A tear or a frown from the little despot would set the whole family in commotion. Such was the school in A YOUNG wroow. 231 which she had gro'wn up, and at seventeen she was as remark- able for her beauty as for her imperious and wayward temper. At that period the young Marquis d'Anfo saw her, and con- ceived, or, as many thought, affected, a violent passion for the wealthy heiress. It is certain, however, that after a few months of assiduous attention, he begged her hand. The marquis was a perfectly suitable match as to rank ; he was of an illustrious family, and related to the house of the cardinal secretary of state, who might very probably one day become pope ; but he was noted for his extravagance, and at three-and- twenty years of age had already squandered a considerable fortune. Lilla's father was aware of this, and his first impulse was to refuse a proposal involving so much danger to the future prospects of his darling daughter ; but the marquis was handsome, his equipages were remarked as the most elegant in the town, he was a distinguished horseman, and Lilla declared that she' would either have him for a husband, or bury her- self in a convent for life. In short, the fond father consented, and the marriage took place. Three months after the bride- groom broke his neck, by a fall from his horse in a great hunt in the Oampagna, and Lilla remained a widow at seventeen years and some months. A year later her father, still young, but worn out by grief, and the victim of a scirrhous affection of the stomach, hereditary in his family, expired unexpectedly. From that time Kome became intolerable to the two orphans, who made up their mind to settle at Genoa, where, moreover, their presence was required by business connected with their paternal inheritance. These discoveries were but little encouraging for my love, and gave rise on my part to many serious and alarming reflec- tions. In spite of the buoyancy and self-confidence natural to youth, I felt that there was a gulf between the rich Marchioness d'Anfo and the son of an obscure and far from wealthy lawyer. And even supposing that the probable oppo- sition of Lilla's brother and relations (of whom she had shoals on her father's side), to a match which would be looked upon as far beneath her, could be overcome — a thing not very likely ■ — could I depend so fully on Lilla's feelings toward me, as to 232 LORENZO BENONI. be sure that she might not herself one day repent the union ? What I had been able to make out of her character, during about two months of intercourse, was not calculated to reassure me completely in this respect. Such speculations may appear rather too prudent for a youth of two-and-twenty, who is deeply in love, but it was a marking trait in my nature, that, even from my boyish years, enthusiasm had never excluded reflec- tion. There was at the foundation of my character a stratum of distrust of myself, and of others also, which passing excite- ment might silence for a while, but could not obliterate ; a disposition which tended rather to make me exaggerate diffi- culties than to look lightly on them. Such was the somewhat depressed mood of my mind, when the revolution of July 1830, broke out in Franee. The commotion that ran through Europe, the thrill of hope with which the hearts of all the oppressed hailed the three days, are still present to the memory of every one. Minds were no- where more elated, hopes were nowhere more ardent, than in Italy, and in no part of Italy more ardent than in Piedmont. Upon us — I mean the young men who busied themselves in politics — the revolution of Paris had the effect of an intox- icating draught, and we daily expected to be called to arms. Fantasio assured us that the Carbonari were roused from their slumber, and that the sect were carrying on their work with the greatest activity ; in token of which he had been delegated to promote me to,the second degree of the order, which he did in the most simple way, by communicating to me sundry new signs and words of recognition. This second degree, to which I ■was admitted, gave me no other right than that of pre- sentation, of which I instantly made use to propose Alfred as a candidate. • Those great politifcal events, and the excitement consequent upon them, roused me from the state of depression into which I had been thrown by what I had learned concerning Lilla's family and her station in life. ' The near approach of my last and decisive examination, which was to take place in a month, proved another wholesome diversion. It was indispensable for me to work hard to make up for lost time, and so it fared MY LOOKS don't IMPROVE. 233 with my brother Caesar, who was exactly in the same predic- ament with myself. My mornings were occupied by the lectures at the university, a part of my afternoons by the never-failing walk on the bastions of Santa Chiara ; I had only the night for quiet study, and I often used to sit up till two or three o'clock in the morning. Heaven knows how often the image of Lilla would come between the book and me, and what wondrous efforts I had to make to drive it away. Every- thing, however, went on as well as I could wish, and at last, one day in August, in the great hall of the university, and in presence of a numerous audience, after a good deal of talking, and being talked to, in bad Latin, I was duly invested with the gown and cap, and obtained the degree of doctor of laws, in utroque jure. My father and my Uncle John were of course present at the ceremony. I do not know whether the former was or was not satisfied with me, but the very nest day he installed me in a small room next to his own study, where I was in future to receive my clients — when I should have any. Uncle John was more demonstrative, and after having em- braced me repeatedly, he slipped into my hand_ a visible token of his satisfaction, in the shape of a little roll of gold pieces. A week later, Caesar went through his last exami- nation with great spirit, and the right of life and death over his future patients was bestowed upon him, with the title of doctor of medicine. For more than a month my mother, with my youngest brother, had been settled in the tranquil and smiling valley of San Secondo, the air of which had proved so beneficial to her health the preceding summer. So soon as his examination was over, Caesar joined her. Fantasio also once more occu- pied his white cottage. As for me, I was detained in tcfWn by the 'following disagreeable circumstance. For the last fortnight I had been troubled by a rash, which annoyed me considerably. At first it was trifling, and I paid no attention to it ; but the eruption, instead of giving way, had increased, attacking especially the head and face, and giving an appear- ance very similar to that produced by sma'11-pox. This, of course, was far from adding to my beauty, and I felt a strong 234 LORENZO BENONI. repugnance to present myself before Lilla in Bucli a condition. For some days previous to my examination I had therefore discontinued my walks on the ramparts of Santa Chiara, not, however, without first taking care to let Lilla know, for by this time she had authorized me to write to her in case of need. I had laid my absence to the account of a slight indisposition, without saying precisely of what kind. In the meanwhile, my malady getting no better, I made up my mind to consult a physician, who said that the thing was of no consequence, but prescribed sea-bathing. I was desired to bathe twice every day, morning and evening. It was in order to fulfil this prescription that I had remained in town. Time passed on, and Lilla grew anxious. I had to write in order to reassure her, and I thought that I could not do so more effectually, than by plainly telling her how matters stood with me. Her answer came without de- lay. She was grieved, she said, mortified, indignant, at my want of confidence in her. Did I indeed suppose that her affection for me could be influenced by such an accident? This was knowing her very little, it was being very unjust toward her. If I wished to expiate my fault and obtain her pardon, I must go the next morning at nine o'clock to meet her in the garden. I was weak enough to yield. Lilla was shocked at sight of me, and could not help showing it. I perceived it and was piqued. Our interview was cool and short. We both felt ill at ease, and when we separated there was a cloud be- tween us. Poor Lilla ! It was not her fault but mine. Men ought to take great care not to shock that sense of elegance and beauty which is innate in women, and which is never injured with impunity. My face was red and swelled, and a great part of my hair, my only beauty, had been cut off by order of the doctor. Really, I was ugly enough to have frightened a quadruped ; what wonder that Lilla should have found it out. A • fortnight's sea-bathing put an end to this complaint, all swelling and eruption disappeared, and the only lingering inconvenience was some red marks in their place. So I pre- LILLA.'s WHIMS. 235 pared myself to go and join my mother in the country, but not without informing Lilla of my movements and bidding her good-by. Slie also was about to retire in a few days to a country-seat she possessed near Savona. She wrote telling me this, and adding how much she regretted leaving town without seeing me. Now this was not true ; at least I con- ceived it not to be true, for if she had felt the wish, she would not have failed to appoint a day and hour for -a meeting in the garden, as she had done before. Under this impression I wrote in a moment of pic[ue — how childish! — that we bad- better not see each other for the present, as I was anxious not to shock her a second time (I underlined the phrase), and set out for San Second o. This was not the first cloud which had overcast our heaven, but it was the darkest. Lilla was self-willed, imperious, at times almost violent, and had wounded me more than once. Whenever anything went wrong with her, or she happened to be out of sorts, she had an irresistible inclination to vent her spleen on me, and if I resented the injustice, which I sometimes did, she would put on a most diverting air of injured innocence. One day, for instance, when I had gone to meet her in the garden, I found her in a rage. I was half an hour, she said, after the appointed time. Now, in fact, I liad come even some minutes earlier, which was proved by my watch, and by the clock of a neighboring church. No ; it would not do ! the watch and the clock were wrong. She stamped her little foot, and protested that she would never come again. These words piqued me deeply. " Signora Mar- chesa," said I coldly (as a stanch liberal she hated titles, and could not bear to be called Marchesa), " do just as you please ;" and away I went. It is but fair to say, however, that she was always the first to come round after these little tiffs, and hold- ing out the white flag, sue for peace. Lilla was a charming spoiled little thing, with no more judgment, steadiness, or experience, about her than a baby. Sometimes she wanted me to teach her to smoke, sometimes she wished me to receive her as a Carbonaro. Every hour brought some new whim, some fresh smiling or pouting, but 236 LOEENZO BENONI. in all her moods there was truly so mucli grace, something so sweetly girlish, that it was difficult to be' angry. She was not yet twenty, and of course very fond of dress, dancing, and pleasure. To my taste she had too great a liking for gorgeous and brilliant colors, and I was perfectly satisfied, from what she herself ingenuously told me of her success in company, that she could be completely happy, even in my absence, whenever she produced an effect. Her manners with me, after the first two or three interviews, were rather those of a sister with a brother, than of a mistress with her lover, so entirely was she at her ease and unrestrained. Indeed, I think she knew but little about love. With all her faults she was a sweet fasci- nating little creature ; warm-hearted, generous, compassionate, unable to see any one suffer without giving all the assistance in her power. In short, there was in Lilla the stuff of a far better woman than she was. My first month in the country was, upon the whole, rather dull. I expected every day that Lilla would take the first step toward me, but week after week elapsed without the slightest sign on her part. I felt cruelly disappointed. I bitterly repented my hastiness and harshness. But I had my pride; and I never admitted— ^ no, not once, the idea of making the first advance myself. "Well, it is all over; it was a dream : J will think no more about it." I did think about it, nevertheless. But by degrees I dwelt less upon the subject, and my spirits began to mend. Fantasio, Csesar, politics, shooting, the beautiful and grand scenery that sur- rounded me, proved so many salutary diversions ; after a time I got the better of my depression, and partially recovered my cheerfulness. Not long after this amendment, happening one day to be in town, which was often the case, who should be the first per- son I met in the street but Lilla with her maid? No sooner did she see me than she changed color ; perceiving which, I turned my eyes to the ground, meaning to appear not to see her. But she came resolutely toward me, said how glad she was to see me well, and that she wanted to talk with me. Would I meet her the next day at the garden 1 I told her 237 that I was obliged to be back that evening at San Secondo. Well, would I meet her within an hour at the garden ? To be sure I would ; and we separated. The interview took place, and never had Lilla shown herself so kind, so demonstrative of affection. She was more earnest and thoughtful than usual, and there was perhaps a slight shade of embarrassment about her, which I attributed to her consciousness of having been in the wrong at our last meeting. By this time I had recovered my habitual good or bad looks, and my hair had grown again, upon which she complimented me. She was in town for a few days, was bored to death in the country, longed to come back to Genoa, and see me every day. " Would I write to her ?" " Certainly, if she wished it." We parted better friends than ever, and from that day an active correspondence was carried on between us. I remarked with pleasure, that her letters were less childish than they used to be. There was even in some of them a tinge of despondency that pained me. She expressed a degree of contrition that appeared rather out of proportion with her little offences, and begged my indulgence. Evidently there was in Lilla a change for the better ; at least I thought so. I must not close this chapter without registering the demise of the literary periodical founded by Fantasio, which closely followed on the revolution of July. The paper was not sup- pressed by government, was not given up by its contributors, yet it stopped short, owing to a material impossibility of going on. Let us explain the riddle. The censorship, all whose former toleration of the press had terminated with the three glorious days, began systematically to delete whole ai-ticles at once. All those connected with papers know how diflScnlt it is to fill a gap of this sort at a moment's notice ; yet somehow or other, it was filled, once, twice, and even thrice. But the day came in which this was no longer practicable, and the paper must either have appeared as a blank sheet, or be stopped altogether. It was stopped. And thus the poor Florentine periodical breathed its last. 238 LOEENZO BENONI. CHAPTEE XXVI. WHY I MAKE UP MY MIND TO BREAK WITH LILLA, aND HOW I FAIL IN THE ATTEMPT. MY CONFIDENCE IN HER IS SHAKEN. In due time we returned to town, and I resumed my occu- pations. My title of LL. D. only imparted to me the right of giving opinions which no one asked me for, or of appearing in my capacity of advocate in the petty court of a justice of the peace. To be admitted to plead before the superior courts, it was necessary that I should prove three years' reading under any barrister I might choose. I therefore entered as pupil the office of a highly-esteemed pleader, where several of my university companions, and among the rest Fantasio, were going through this legal noviciate. The old counsellor was overwhelmed with business, and paid very little attention to his pupils. Provided he saw us in his first room with some great folio in our hands, at the hours when he habitually went in or out, he required nothing more. Csesar also had to walk the hospitals for two years, and when he had gone the rounds with the head-physician, morning and evening, his task was done. The leisure we had was given to politics. There was great talk at this time of gatherings of refugees at the frontier, and of an expedition preparing at Lyons, which was to invade and revolutionize the Sardinian states. These reports, which were not quite without foundation, held men's minds in a state of excitement that greatly facilitated our task of propagandism. The number of adherents we had gathered round us increased each day. As to the Carbonari, according to Fantasio's ac- counts, they were very active indeed. Travellers of the order POLITICS BKLTONI. 239 were continually going backward and forward ; a number of chests of arms had been introduced into the country ; a general was expected every moment, to take the command of the approaching insurrection. Everything was going on full speed. When I should be advanced to the third degree, which must be before long, I should know and see all myself. So much the better. For all that, I got no answer with respect to the candidate whom I had presented. The thing was in deliberation ; but Fantasio's candidate, Sforza, had been approved of : that was a comfort. A fortnight had now passed since Lilla's return from the country, and vic. had only met once. The month of November was remarkably wet, and the walks on the bastions of Santa Chiara were therefore of rare occurrence. The nursery-gar- den was impracticable. We cast about to find ' some other place of meeting, but this was not an easy thing, and in the meantime patience was a necessity. Nevertheless, I was much annoyed. One morning I went to call on Fantasio, and found him from home. In spite of his absence, I went in, to wait for him. There was just then a ray of sunshine, so I took a chair, and seated myself on the balcony to enjoy it. I was scarcely seated when I heard the house-bell ring, and the horse-laugh of a certain Beltoni, in confabulation with another of our com- panions. I was more than usually out of humor that morning, and therefore very little disposed to face the running fire of Beltoni's eternal chatter ; so I pushed one of the blinds to, and remained concealed behind it. Beltoni, better known among lis as the Leech, a nick-name he owed to Fantasio's caustic humor, was a tall, big-boned fellow of five and twenty, the only one of our whole set who was really and completely happy. A man more satisfied with himself, and with less reason for being so, I never knew. Being fat, fair, and rosy, like a boiled sucking pig, he took it for granted that he was a very Antinous. He wore enormous stiff shirt collars, incredible hats, and clothes much too tight for his figure, and thought himself a very paragon of taste in dress; talked much, laughed at his own wit, and took as a 240 rOEENZO BBNONI. high compliment the broadest quizzing. He had a notion that all women wei-e in love with him, spoke of them disparagingly, and was for ever boasting of affairs of gallantry. Perhaps he had such — he was impudent enough for it. I will not say that he was bad — I do not think he was; but that he was con- ceited, vulgar, coarse-minded, devoid of any spark of feeling or elevation, (hat I can vouch for. Beltoni was in high glee. " A fine gal, isn't she V roared he as he sat down. " Uncommonly so," was the reply. " A little bit of a she-devil though," continued Beltoni. " What a look she gave you !" said the other, who was evi- dently urging him on for his own amusement. •'So she may, so she may!" replied Beltoni. "Many a waltz, gallop, and country-dance, have I made her trip on the greensward by moonlight !" I pitied from my heart the luckless girl whose evil star had thrown her in Beltoni's way. " And where did you get acquainted with her, you lucky dog?" continued his companion. Beltoni acknowledged the compliment by laughing till he held his sides, and then replied, " At Melle, near Savona," from which town he came. I pricked up my ears. " Her brother has a magnificent villa there. Rich people, who live in fine style, but very affable and easy withal." Heaven and earth ! it is she. " I used to call often there, and stroll about the park with the little gipsy. You ought to have seen her there, my dear fellow — devilish hot weather, she in an easy neglige, almost transparent . . . ." I stop from disgust. Beltoni continued his description with the gentleness of touch and nicety of expression with which a butcher might praise the victim he is about to kill. A cold perspiration broke on my forehead. " But, in short, on what terms are you really %" urged Bel- toni's interlocutor. JEALOUSY. 241 " Ah, ah ! you are too inquisitive !" answered he, laughing outright. " I see how it is," replied the other, " you pretend to be dis- creet because you have nothing to tell." '' May be, may be. All that I can say is this, that if within a week I do nof^get a rendezvous from the little witch, why, my name is not Beltoni." ' Fantasio's arrival put a stop to the conversation. He came forward to open the blinds of the balcony, and in doing so per- ceived me ; but I had time, by an expressive gesture, to pre- vent his betraying my presence. Soon after, Beltoni and his friend went away, and I came out of my hiding-place. "What, is the matter?" asked Fantasio, seeing me ashy pale. "Don't ask just now, you shall know by-and-by — perhaps to-morrow. Give me a glass of water. Now, good-by," and 80 saying, I tottered away. Each syllable of Beltoni's conversation had fallen like a drop of molten lead upon my heart. Each word was graven on my brain in letters of fire. I saw them everywhere, every^ where I heard them, they positively haunted me. Shame, rage, jealousy of the worst kind gnawed at the very core of my heart. " Oh ! that I had died before I ever saw her ! but I will have vengeance — yes, I will pay her back with interest all that she makes me suffer ; but how can I be revenged if she does not love me — if she loves this Beltoni?" I was frantic at the very idea. " To give me Beltoni for a rival ! !" The mere thought degraded me. I wished him dead and buried. How could that refined fairy-like being listen to such a coarse fellow without disgust? Was it then true, that the, incense of flattery, however gross, is always welcome at the shrine of beauty ? How I got through the day, I can not tell. I was in a state of excitement bordering on distraction. Toward evening I recovered some degree of calmness. I had come to the deter- mination to break at once with Lilla. " But she shall know why ; yes, I will write her all that is in my heart." I set my- self to the task, but I could not get through it. I threw my- 11 242 LOEENZO BKNONl. self dressed upon my bed, and fell asleep. After some time I awoke, and felt relieved. My blood no longer boiled ; I could now see into the case coolly. Beltoni's statements, or rather vile hints, must of course be exaggerated ; still it was evident that she had encouraged him to a certain degi-ee; that some- thing like flirtation had been going on between them. This was more than enough. Let us break at once. I was now in a fitting frame of mind to write, so I sat down to my desk and began'. I passed the greater part of the night in writing, and burn- ing what I wrote. I could not accomplish a letter. One was too gentle, another was too harsh. A third pleased me better, but was too long. To what purpose so many explanations? Three lines ought to suffice. Thus : " Chance has put me in my turn in possession of a secret of yours. You love another. I have nothing to say to that. The affections are independent of the will. What I might have a right to reproach you with is, having played a double game with me. But to what end? Farewell ! Be happy. — I return your letters and your love- tokens. All is ended between us." " But is it very sure that she does love this Beltoni ? I do not believe it ; probably she has only coquetted with him. 'You love another,' says too much. This Ylir^se must be changed. ' You have given another the right to think himself beloved.' No, even that is too much. But why 1 How do I know that she does not love him ? He is fair and rosy, per- haps a handsome fellow in her judgment. Women do not see with our eyes. Positively, my head is too heavy. I will put off writing till to-morrow." In the meantime, I made a detailed inventory of everything I had received from her, beginning with her letters. I read part of them. I lighted nojv and then on passages that wrung my heart. A purse, with my initials worked in hair — her own hair ! — a gold ring, with a heart transfixed by a dart; a little lock of hair, ivhich she had cui for me ; a white handkerchief, that I had once taken from her, wet with her tears; some faded rose-leaves — this was all that I had of hers : very little, but to me a treasure ! I felt it by the heart-rending pang that MY CONFIDANTS. 243 came over me in parting with them. I made a packet of the whole, not without tears, and sealed it. " But can I then give up everything 1 have nothing left of hers, nothing ! Impossi- ble!" I broke open the packet, stole half the lock of hair, and then sealed it anew. Morning surprised me thus engaged. Fantasio was uneasy about me, and called early. I remem- bered my promise of the day before. Now that all was over, I could tell him the whole. I called Csesar in, and related to them both every detail of what had passed between Lilla and me, from the first mysterious letter I had received, down to the discovery of the preceding day. I told them how I had made up my mind to break at once with her, and read them the scrawl of the last short note that I had penned. It seemed to both Fantasio and Caesar that I took the thing too tragi- cally. Lilla, from what I had just told them, must be quite a child, and some indulgence ought to be shown her. She might have been a little coquettish, but this proved no real liking for Beltoni. If an innocent intercourse, such as the freedom of the country might excuse, had changed its nature, by pas- sing through the impure lips of that fellow, it was not her fault. Beltoni was a puppy and a boaster, and what he said could never be taken seriously. Who knew whether she might not have been playing on his vanity ? At all events, the letter I had written was harsh, peremptory, and unfeeling ; it would not do. Affairs of this kind should not be conducted in wri- ting ; I ought to have a frank and verbal explanation with Lilla, and by its results be guided in my ulterior resolution. These arguments did not convince me, did not alter my de- termination to have done with Lilla; but they soothed me. It was such a comfort to hear my friends take up her defence ! Well, then, so it should be ; I would not write. I would speak with her, and tell her myself what I had on my mind ; that would be the best way. Thus also — but this reason I did not even allow to myself — I should see her once more. Shortly afterward, fine weather returned, and there came a letter from Lilla, asking me to go and see her in the garden, I took with me the packet containing her letters, with the other things, and went. It was a beautiful November morn- 244 LORENZO BENOSI. iiig, the sky was pure, the sun warm and pleasant. Lilla was wrapped in a costly fur-cloak, and looked radiant. Never had she appeared to me so lovely. What a boor I was, to be sure, to disturb that pure and serene surface ! There was a cloud upon my brow, and she perceived it. 'What, is the matter with you?" asked she. I was much at a loss how to broach the subject. " I have had a bad dream, which troubles me." I hardly knew what I was saying. " Oh, that is too bad !" returned she, laughing heartily; "a serious man, a conspirator like you, to allow himself to be disturbed by a dream, like a child !" " The Greeks and Romans were not children, and yet they attached the greatest importance to dreams. Miife was so like reality, that I still ask myself whether it really was only a dream." " You make me quite curious," said Lilla, with evident in- terest ; " do tell me your dream." " Willingly. I dreamed that I stood upon a balcony, con- cealed from the room within by a blind " " As I was in the alcove on Shrove-Tuesday," interrupted she, laughing. " Just so. There were in the room two young men. One of them was confiding his loves to the other. He had made an acquaintance in the country — ' a fine gal, a little bit of a she-devil, though,' to use his own words. His description of the lady's charms, if wanting in taste, wassjrich in coloring. ' It was hot weather,' said he, ' and she was in very transpa- rent neglige — " And I repeated, word for word, Beltoni's expressions. Lilla looked both shocked at what I said, and alarmed at the tone of bitterness with which I said it. I went on : — " The young man had paid his court to the lady, as is cus- tomary in the country. He was her partner in the dance on the greensward, her constant attendant in her strolls about the park, and thus had sufficient leisure to see and scan her charms to the best advantage. That this intense admiration had won the lady's heart, is most likely. At least, the young man THE MICANING 03? THE TALE. 245 thought so, for he wound up his narrative with these words : ' If I do not ohtain a rendezvous in a week, my name is not my name !' " " What is the meaning of this odious tale ? Why do you tell it to me 1" said Lilla, perplexed. " Don't you guess 1" said I, smiling bitterly. " Not I. You frighten me !" returned she. " Do 1 1" and I looked her fully in the face, and said slowly, " Why, are you not the heroine of this odious tale 1" " I !" screamed Lilla, blushing scarlet. " Yes, you ! Beltoni himself told it ! He is the happy swaifi !" Oh ! that she had burst into a fit of passion, torn her hair, stamped her foot, flashed scorn and anger from her eyes, cursed that man and me ! What a relief it would have bepn ! But no. Her features fell ; she looked scared, stunned, annihilated — anything but indignant. " I may have been wrong," whispered she after a pause ; " nay, I see I was. But God is my witness that I do not de- serve this. I meant no harm. I do not love that man." " Have you encouraged him ? yes or no !" resumed I ; " that is the question." " He may have supposed so, but I did not mean it. You had been so cross to me, you remember. He was so funny, he amused me. I am but a weak, thoughtless child, and I be- haved as such. I have need of indulgence. Did I not write you how much I wanted it V " It was your conscience that smote you ; you felt at that very moment that you were wronging me." " Indeed, you are too severe. Such attentions as he paid to me, I saw many girls receive from young men, without any one thinking it amiss." " What is of little consequence from others, is not so from Beltoni. Do you not know that that man is a profligate] Whatever he touches he defiles." " Good heavens ! how could I know ] What can I do V " It is not for me to point out your course. As to me, mine is clear. I must bid you farewell !" 246 LOEBNZO BENONI. " What ! would you leave me in anger, without one word of forgiveness t" " I am not angry. I forgive you from my heart, biit we must part. Here are your letters." As she did not move to take them, I laid the packet on a bench close by. " God bless you !" and I moved toward the door of the garden. > A scream from the maid stopped me. I turned my head, and saw Lilla stretched full length upon the ground. I hast- ened to her. She had fainted. We raised her gently, and carried her into a little greenhouse near at hand, where we seated her on a bench. The woman went out and fetched some water, with which I sprinkled Lilla's face. It was some time before she recovered consciousness. She then looked around, saw me, sprang up, and flung herself at my feet. Hers was a paroxysm of grief, an agony of despair, which defies all description. Such a passion of tears ! such sobs ! ~ " I might crush her under my feet, kill her at once, but not leave her thus. I could not inflict such torture ; 1 could not have the heart to do it, she was sure I could not ! I had said so only to try her, was it not so ? She was my child ; I had called her so many a time ! I must be merciful to her !" What could I do ? Nothing but yield. I forgave her, raised her, called her my darling child. I took back the packet of letters. I did and said all in my power to calm and soothe the suffering soul. She would not let me go unless I pledged my word that I would meet her on the morrow at the same place ; and I pledged it. I succeeded so far as to restore her to something like reason, and went away. I was satisfied that I bad done nothing but what a man ought to do under such circumstances, and yet I was not pleased with myself. No; Fantasio and Caesar might say what they would, I was not pleased with myself. I saw her next morning, and could judge by her looks what havoc the stormy scene of the preceding day had made in her. I did my best to reassure her, and raise her drooping spirits. I affected a gayety I was far from feeling, and easily RECONCILIA.TION DISTRUST. S-t7 brought back smiles to her lips, and serenity to her counte- nance. There was such mobility of impression about Lilla, that she could cry bitterly and laugh heartily in the course of five minutes. Things went on between us smoothly enough for some time. Yet I was not happy. My confidence in her I lo7ed was shaken. 248 LOEENZO BENONI. CHAPTEE XXVII. PANTASIO'S IMPRISONMENT, OUR HELPLESSNESS AND DESPAIR NARROW ESCAPE. Though my confidence in Lilla was shaken, I loved her more than ever. This is a phenomenon of very common occur- rence. A disputed possession, precisely because it is disputed, becomes more precious. There are men, for whom a little spice of jealousy is as necessary to love, as mustard is to others for digestion. As for me, I could have done without this ingredient perfectly well ; for, if my passion was therety increased, my comfort was very sensibly diminished. With Lilla's image, upon which my fancy had formerly dwelt with complacent and confident tranquillity, was now associated another importunate figure, whose intrusion turned my satis- faction into uneasiness. The idea of her girlish graces being possibly displayed with pleasure for another than myself, blighted their charm, and made them at certain moments al- most hateful to me. In a word, I was jealous ; and consequent- ly, in the state of mental mirage which is the characteristic symptom of that strange disease. I was shaken out of this frame of mind as by a thunderbolt. One night, about twelve o'clock, as I was just going to bed, I heard a voice without which called my name several times. I opened the window, and asked who was there. " It is I," answered Uncle John's voice ; " come down, and open the door without making any noise ; I want to speak to you." I won- dered what could bring Uncle John at this hour ; he who went to bed so regularly at ten o'clock. I descended, not withoiit some anxiety, and opened the door. UNCLE John's news. 249 " What IS the matter, uncle 1" My uncle did not answer, but took the lamp out of my hand, led the way to my little study, shut the door, and began pacing up and down the room, like a wild beast in its cage. It was not till then that I perceived he was in a state of great anger and agitation. " What is the matter, uncle ?" I repeated. My question seemed to break the spell that held him dumb. " What is the matter ! what is the matter !" shouted Uncle John ; " j'ou will soon know what it is, and to your cost too ! Did I not tell you that if you would play with the fire, you must" bum your fingers'? Did I not tell you that all you could do would be to get yourselves hanged ] Nothing else, nothing else, nothing else ! Confound the boys ! they will follow their own way ; they all think themselves patterns of wisdom. When they meet a man of sense and experience, •who says to them, ' Beware !' — faugh ! they spurn his advice, and treat him as a dotard. I have no patience with such fools." Having uttered this apostrophe with incredible volubility and impetuosity. Uncle John flung his hat on the ground in a rage as a last and clinching argument, threw himself into a chair, and began to bite his nails most furiously. " In the name of Heaven, uncle, do not keep me thus upon the rack. What has happened V "Fantasio is arrested, many others are arrested, to say noth- ing of those who will soon be arrested. Conspiracy, secret societies, high treason, a matter for the gallows, nothing less — this is what has happened! It is said that there is a list of a hundred persons implicated. Yes, a list of a hundred names, and yours among them — I lay any wager of it. A plague on all boys ! They are never happy hut when they are in a scrape. What on earth possessed me to prevent this one from becoming a capuchin !" Of all this long rigmarole, delivered with ever-increasing heat, I had only clearly understood one sentence, which rung in my ears like a death-knell, and froze the blood in my veins, 11» 250 LORENZO BENONI. " Fantasio is arrested !" Fantasio arrested meant secret information, a court-martial judging with closed doors, and no defending counsel — it meant death ! The various acts of such a dismal drama passed, like a flash, before my terrified imagination. " We must save him, uncle ; we must save him !" cried I, distractedly. ' "Don't talk nonsense!" returned my uncje ; "let us do 'things like rational beings, and think first of saving those who can be saved, beginning by yourself. Let us see ; are you in this business, or are you not ?" " For Grod's sake, uncle, do not think about me. Suppose I am, no one knows it, I hardly know myself." " Are you sure of what you say ?" resumed my uncle, some- what relieved : " remember this is a matter of life and death, and any reserve may be fatal." " I tell you, uncle, that it is a hundred to one that Csesar and I run no risk." ' "Csesar, Csesar too!" exclaimed Uncle John, striking his forehead with both hands. " Of course ; Csesar also ! What a fool I was not to have thought of it ! Why, this is madness, positive madness. They will never be satisfied till they ai-e all hanged." " Fantasio, uncle, we must think of Fantasio, of him who is in jeopardy. We must save him at any cost, move heaven and earth, manage his escape from prison !" '• His escape from prison !" ejaculated Uncle John with a shrug. •' To be sure, with a silken ladder, as in the Barbiere di Siviglia. Upon my word, the boy is crazy. Do you sup- pose that prisons are made of papier mache, or of pie-crust 1 Have you ever looked at the tower ? Walls ten feet thick, and iron doors — What are you dreaming of?" " It is said that the strongest door may be opened with a golden key." " True enough ; gold does a great deal, but not everything. First of all, have you two thousand pounds ready ? And, suppose you had, do you know to whom to offer them ? In the prispns of the tower there are fifty oflScers and jailers, TLAKS AKD MISGIVINGS. 251 who spy upon each other. Life is life, my dear fellow. If you would but come down from the clouds, and talk a little common sense !" " But with your common sense, uncle, you throw one into complete despair." " I am merely reasonable, and so I say that at this moment there is nothing to be done but — to go to bed. Perhaps your friend's case is not so bad as it might be. We will see by-and-by what can be done for him. Depend upon ' this, everything shall be done which it is humanly possible to do. I say possible, you understand. In the meantime, prudence, prudence. Of one misfortune do not let us make two. Good night !" I had a great mind to awaken Caesar, but I scrupled to disturb his rest with such bad news. " He will know it but too soon, poor fellow !" I went to bed but could not close my eyes, and spent the night in thinking over the means of helping our friend. Alas ! I positively saw none. Every plan I could devise was only brought to the test to be renounced as impossible. An escape from prison was surrounded by difficulties insur- mountable, or nearly so. First, it was not easy to find the money. My thoughts had turned immediately to Lilla, who was rich and generous ; but it was very possible to be both and yet not to have two thousand pounds at immediate com- mand — especially for a woman, and one who had an elder brother. And, supposing the sum were to be found, to whom should we apply ? If I had at this moment two thousand pounds in my pocket, what is the first step I ought to take 1 Must I knock at the gate of the tower and ask for the head- jailer, without knowing anything about him? .And when we shall be face to face what shall I say ? — offer him point-blank the money ? Even supposing him accessible to corruption, will he not fear some trap ? with what confidence can an un- known youth inspire him ? Unless I succeed in finding some one who can tell me, with competent knowledge of the fact, " Go to A or B among the officers of the tower ; I know him, he will do anything for money :" unless I can find some such 252 LORENZO BENONI. resting-point to lean upon — and where find it ? it is certain that I shall fail) and get myself into a scrape to boot. Uncle John was right. An escape from prison with the connivance of some one employed in the jail is quite impracticable. Suppose we were to force the prison, and carry off Fantasio l A hundred,' say a hundred and fifty young men constitute the whole of our force, even if the whole number would muster. Where find arms ? The tower is well guarded, and at the gate of the ducal palace, a hundred paces distant, there is always a strong military post. Before we can beat down the first door we shall have all the garrison of the town upon us. And, no doubt, there are several doors to be broken open before we reach the apartment where Fantasio is confined. By the way, we ought to know precisely where his cell is. We ought to have an exact plan of the tower. Alas ! how many difficulties ! It is astonishing how an enterprise, apparently most simple* changes its nature and grows complicated the moment you come to the details of execution. By dint of studying this labyrinth, I found however, or at least I thought I had found, a clew to extricate us. This was my reasoning : — The Carbonari, said I to myself, have adepts everywhere, and surely they must have some among the per- sons employed in the tower. Suppose there is only one; that single one is bound by his oath to favor the flight of a brother. If necessary he might be stimulated by a bribe. The problem to be solved is, how to get hold of this Oarbonaro jailer. To this end there is but one way, that is, to follow up the chain link by link, from one individual to another, from one grade to another, till we reach some of the high functionaries of the order, — ^some of those who know everything and everybody in it. Once there, we are -sure to have the right man pointed out. At all events, there is Lilla's brother, my mysterious initia(,or, who may be able to give useful directions. Perhaps Caesar has more of the necessary information than I have. Poor chance of success in such a search, but still the only one left. The m'ore I thought of it, the more satisfactoiy did^ the idea appear, Yes ; we must set to work in thaf'direction to-morrow, without a moment's further delay. FANTASIO'S FAMILY. 253 Early in tlie morning I awoke Osesar, and gave him the sad news. I communicated at the same time the plan of which I had bethought myself in the night, and which he warmly ap- proved. It was too early to call on Fantasio's family, so we sat down and compared notes. As for me, I was acquainted with none of our people, with the exception of Count Alberto ; and all that I knew of him was that he was an adept, but we were perfect strangers to each other. Caesar was exactly in the same plight as to personal acquaintance, but he knew by name two individuals, who, as Fantasio had assured him, belonged to the sect : one a physician older than ourselves by four or five years, a stiff, haughty-looking man, whom I knew by sight, named Pedretti ; the other, an old but ardent and most active man, named Nasi, the person who was in constant communication with Fantasio, and by him said to be one of the heads of the order. This same Nasi it was who, about a year and a half before, had admitted Fantasio into the sect. His mode of introducing himself to our friend was remarkably eccejitric. He called one day, without any previous acquaintance or preparation, and entered upon the matter without further preface, in these words : " I know that you have long desired to be an initiated Oarbonaro, and here I am ready to satisfy yom- wish." It was he also, to all appearance, who had been my brother's initiator a few days later ; but of this Caesar was not sure, as the man was masked. Caesar had no doubt that Nasi could and would give us all the information we wanted ; and this was indeed a consoling piece of intelligence. We then went to Fantasio's house. He was an only son, fondly loved ; and of course we found his parents in deep con- sternation. We tried to comfort them as we best could. They told us, that on the preceding evening Fantasio had just returned home as usual about eleven o'clock, when a party of carabineers, with a commissary of police at their head, had come and carried him off. His papers had been searched, and some, but of no paramount importance, taken away. We entered our friend's room with an inexpressible oppression of heart. All was as he had left it : a volume of Lord Byron ptill open upon his desk, an unfinished cigar upon the table, 25i LOKENZO BENONI. and near it a sheet of paper, with some scattered thoughts suggested hy the poem he had been reading. Everything was as yesterday, and yet what a difference ! All around had a look of desolation. Those who have had to part from dear friends, know how deeply and painfully inanimate objects asso- ciated with them strike home to the heart ! It had been agreed with Uncle John that I should call on him about dinner-time to hear the news. To him, then, we went. He knew all the details of the afPair. The number of persons arrested was ten ; he had noted down their names, their calling, and their ages. There were eight young men from twenty to thirty (Sforza was of the number), most of them lawyers, and two old gentlemen, a noted barrister, and — Nasi ! The very man we depended upon ! — our anchor of hope ! what- a blow ! Osesar and I looked at each other in silent despair. What was to be done 1 Try our chance at once with Dr. Pedretti. As I knew him by sight, it was agreed that I should go. I had no difficulty in finding his address, and I went immediately. Dr. Pedretti was one of those men who never have been young — he might have been five-and-twenty, or he might have been fifty. He wore a dirty-white cravat, a dirty frill, had a nose always crammed with snuff, and looked big and self-important. " What procured him the honor of my visit 1" I told him at once. He started, and stammered that I was quite mistaken in him. I replied that I was sure of what I said, and that dissembling was of no use. I was a brother, and not a spy, and gave him the signs of recognition. The man was taken by surprise, and no longer attempted to deny the fact ; but he turned as pale as death, went to the door, and ascertaining that there was no one there, came back, and whispered in my ear that segregation was for the present the watchword of the order, which meant immediate and absolute suspension of all communication between the Good Cousins; that he could not take it upon himself to infringe the command by giving the information I requested. All prayers and en- treaties failed against an adamantine discretion, which was probably a mere veil meant to conceal his own state of isola- COUNT ALBERTO. 255 tion, and so save his vanity. Dr. Pcdretti has never forgiven me the fright I caused him. The only person who now remained to he tried was Count Alberto, our last hope, and we did not hesitate one moment. Csesar and Fantasio had never seen Count Alberto's face, nor he theirs, although the reader may remember that they had been present at my initiation at his house. It was Nasi, the soul of the assocication, it would seem, who, through Count Alberto and Fantasio, to both of whom he was known, had put in momentary contact the two couples of masked dominoes — Count Alberto and his secretary on one hand, Caesar and Fantasio on the other, but with a strict prohibition to each couple against questioning the other, or making themselves mutually known. Caesar took upon himself the task of seeing Count Alberto. For still greater precaution, and in order not to run the risk of startling him by calling at his own house, we agreed that I should learn some particulars respecting his habits, so as to know where he might be met with out of his own home. I made inquiries of Lilla on the subject, and she told me of a certain cafe, where her brother went almost every day to read the papers at a certain hour. I must render justice to Lilla, who proved on this occasion, as I had expected, generous and warm-hearted. She ofifered me not only all the ready money she possessed, but a quantity of useless trinkets, as she called them, which might he sold at once to realize a handsome sum ; and, moreover, engaged to raise any sum I would name within a given time. Caesar saw Count Alberto, and met with a. cordial, confiding, and open-hearted reception. He was full of readiness to serve his imprisoned associates ; but he was in the same case with ourselves; that is to say, he was now, since the arrest of Nasi, perfectly isolated; his secretary, also a Carbonaro — the short domino attired as a woman — knew no one but him. All he could say was, that if certain hints thrown out by Nasi could be depended on, and he thought they might, two gentlemen, whom he named, filled important posts in the order. One of them was very high in the magistracy, and noted for his harsh- 256 LORENZO BEKOm. ness. The other was a foreign official agent from a small Ger- man principality. This information was so vague, that we hesitated ; but pru- dence is not the virtue of youth, and after some hesitation wo determined to clear up the point. Of the two persons men- tioned we agreed rather to try the second ; and Caesar insisted upon undertaking this more than delicate mission. He pre- sented himself at the gentleman's house, and was admitted. While excusing himself for his intrusion, he repeaj;edly made the signs of recognition, but in vain. He then went straight to the subject. The old gentleman stopped him at the first word, and said that it would be his duty to call in the guard, and give such a visiter into custody ; and that, if he did not do so, it was from respect for the honorable family to which Caesar belonged. At the same time he motioned him to the door. This failure took from us all courage to venture on any fur- ther experiment of the kind. "We felt that, without being able to serve Faniasio, we should end by getting ourselves into some very serious difficulty, and so desisted. Did these two gentlemen named by Count Alberto belong to the association, or did they not? That is what I do not know, and never shall, for both are dead, and Nasi also. Sup- posing they did, it may be reasonably imagined that they did not choose to leave their secret at the mercy of mere youths, and I can not say ii^at in that they were much to blame. The association of Carbonari, at least in Piedmont, was chiefly composed of Freemasons and of some Carbonari belonging to 1821, spared by the political storms^ of that time. They were all old men, or at least men of mature age and experience, and likely rather to sin by excess than by deficiency of prudence. Oarbonarism composed of such elements would naturally look more to the quality than to the quantity bf g^epts, and we may be allowed to suppose that their number Vas limited. That the Carbonari were very distrustful of youth was a fact proved by the immense difficulty we had had in almost forcing ourselves upon them. Having once admitted us, their aim was to keep us isolated, so that, even had we wished it, we STIREING TIMES. 257 should liave found it impossible to commit any great impru- dence, and thus compromise the association. In this they had too -H-ell succeeded — we were enclosed within an impassable circle — whichever way we turned we met an iron wall. Nor was our utter inability to help our friends the sole cause of our depression of spirit. No time, for a long succession of years, had been so full of hope and promise as the present ; none seemed more favorable for down-trodden nationalities to raise tljeir head and assert their rights. Belgium had just achieved her independence, heroic Poland was in arms, Bologna and the Legations were in open insurrection, Modena had risen ; the revolution was at our very door — and we were bound hand and foot, and could do nothing for ourselves. This it was which galled us to the quick. We were in despair. Fantasio's imprisonment had lasted a month, and his parents had in vain solicited permission to visit hini. It had been re- fused point-blank. They were wealthy and influential people, and made use of all their connections to obtain, in behalf of their son, the interest of persons in high situations, and even holding places about the court. " Meanwhile the proceedings with respect to the prisoners were being carried out with the greatest secrecy, and nothing was known to the public. 'E$e most alarming rumors were in circulation through the toyn. Reports were afloat of chests of arms discovered„of written plans of insurrection seized. Some even talke^of capi't'al con- demnations and secret executions. There was evidSntly ex- aggeration in all, and absurdity in some of these "assertions ; but still they kept the public mind in a ^ate of excitement which could not but tell upon us._ ^. Fortunately Uncle John, in his quiet but indefatigable way, found mean§ to ascertain the real state of affairs, and was soon able to reassure us, at least to a certain extent. He was on intimate terms with an old magistrate, to whom he had once had an opportunity of rendering important pecuniary service, and who, contrary to custom in such cases, had retained a sense of gratitude. Now, chance would have it that this same magistrate was charged with the preparatory proceedings in the affair of Fantasio and his co-accused, and had it in his 258 LOKKNZO BENONI. power to give Uncle John all tlie desired information, of course under condition of the strictest secrecy. Fantasio was incriminated for being one of the society of Carbonari, and for having* on a certain day, and in a certain place, received as member of the said society a certain indi- vidual. This individual turned out to be an agent of the po- lice, and was the informer against Fantasio. Nasi was charged by the same police-agent with belonging to the sect, and with having put him in communication with Fantasio, for the well- understood purpose of his being received as a Oarbonaro. The remainder of the accused were simply prosecuted as belonging to the sect of Carbonari. How it was that Sforza, who had just been admitted, should have been already tracked, I can not say ; but I know that there was some talk at the time of a certain written list of names which had been seized. However this may be, one favorable circumstance for Nasi and Fantasio was, that their accusation rested upon the testimony of a single individual — the police-agent. This in itself would have been sufficient to obtain their acquittal before an ordinary tribunal, according to the maxim of jurisprudence that one witness does not constitute legal evidence, vmus nullus ; but before a court- martial, or even before a civil court, named ad hoc, as was often the case, single evidence would have been received, and their condemnation was a moral cei'tainty. Their salvation or de- struction hung, therefore, by a thread, namely, the choice of the court before which they should be brought. Charles Felix, then upon the throne, hearing that a prose- cution was going on against some Carbonari, was seized with a childish curiosity about the matter, and desired his minister of grace and justice (as we have it) to lay a report of the busi- ness before him. Happily the king had a smattering of juris- prudence, of which he liked to make a show, and a taste for legal forms. It was even said that in his youth he had studied law, and been received LL. D. On examining the documents, the circumstance of there being only a single witness did not escape his observation, and he felt scruples on the subject. To remove them, he named a commission of three learned and eminent magistrates, charged to examine the documents, and BANISHMENT — SliPAKATION. 269 to decide whether there was ground for prosecution, and if so, to determine before what court the trial ought to proceed. To this measure Fantasio and the others owed their salvation. The commission, after long examination and consideration, pronounced that there was no ground for proceeding against the prisoners. The logical consequence of this decision would have been their immediate discharge. Not so, however. The government, whose fate it seemed to he never to carry through a completplj'^ good measure, only did half-justice. Fantasio and Nasi received passports, with an order to leave the coun- try, without any defined period of time being named. Their co-accused were set at liberty, but placed under the superin- tendence of the police. The process occupied about four months. It was generally believed, upon what grounds I can not say, that one of the eminent magistrates forming the above- named commission was a Carbonaro. This favorable issue to what might have proved fatal to our friend, threw us into actual transports of joy — transports which were too soon allayed by the arbitrary measure which followed immediately afterward. Still we knew what a narrow escape he had made, and felt very thankful. To conform to the wish of Fantasio's family, which it was our duty to respect, Caesar and I saw him only for a few minutes before he set out in the diligence. The moment of separation was heart-breaking, and on neither side could we' refrain from tears. " Be of good heart ; keep up the sacred fire, and love me still. You shall soon hear from me." Such were his last words to us. The postillion cracked his whip, the huge machine rolled off, and we walked homeward with full hearts, and in a state of depres- sion we had never before experienced. 260 LOKENZO BENONI. OHAPTEE XXVIII. THE CASACCIA RUPTURE THE LETTERS RETURNED LILLA BE- COMES OUTRAGEOUS. "What a difference in one's life may the absence of one per- son make ! Days and weeks wore on, and still we could not console ourselves for the loss of Fantasio. We missed him every moment. His little apartment was as a haven, of which long habit had made for us, at certain hours, a sweet necessity, and where we were sure of finding welcome, sympathy, and consolation, in all our vexations, great or small. Deprived of this resting-place, we drifted like vessels without a rudder. The buoyancy of our friend, and his activity of mind, had ex- , ercised, unknown to ourselves, a vivifying action upon us, cal- ling forth all our energies. This stimulus removed, we sank to half our former value. Nor were Csesar and I — the bosom friends of Tantasio — the only individuals who experienced this species of aimlessness ; Alfred, the prince,- Sforza — now restored to liberty — in a word, the whole circle 'of our common friends, felt it no less than we did ; and in spite of Fantasio's injunction to keep up the sacred fire, the work of propagand- ism, which had busied us till then, seemed to have come to a stand-still. It was as if each had said to himself, " Of what use is it, now that Fantasio is no longer here V The unwilling traveller wrote regularly to his parents, who always gave us news of him. He was well in health and spirits. In every letter there was some affectionate message for "the t^o brothers," as he called us, but no direct commu- nication. The latest news was that he had been travelling in KTEADA NUOVA. 261 Switzerland, and was struck with admiration of that grand and beautiful country ; and that he had a mind soon to visit Paris. What with bad weather and Fantasio's imprisonment, I had scarcely seen Lilla during the winter ; and since the return of the fine season, she, on her part, had been detained in attend- ance on the sick bed of an aged aunt, who was confined by serious illness. The old lady doated on her niece, and could not spare her for a moment. We corresponded occasionally, and I remarked that Lilla bore with more equanimity than might have been expected from her temper, the constraint occasioned by this circumstance. One fine morning in June — it was the 3d, I remember it well, for two days later would have been the anniversary of my first meeting with Lilla — I went out to walk. As it was Sunday, the unusual liveliness of Strada Nuova, through which I passed, and the uncommon number of loungers there, did not at first strike me. But as I proceeded, the throng thickened more and more, and in certain places near the square of the Fontane Amorose, I found the street entirely blocked up, and could proceed no further. At the same time, I heard a merry band of music coming toward the spot where I stood. I asked some one what was going forward. " The Gasaccia," was the reply; " the Black is coming out." As I had never seen this procession of the Gasaccia, of which I had heard a great deal, I determined to take this opportunity of satisfying my curi- osity, and to make one of the expecting crowd. The origin of the Gasaccia. (from casa, house) is very ancient. The porters in Genoa used formerly to be divided into different corporations, having each its own customs, privileges, and place of worship. One or more of these corporations had united, and formed what was called a brotherhood or confraternity, the chief object of which was social prayer. In fact, early in the morning on Sundays and feast-days, all the members of one brotherhood would meet in some church or chapel appointed for their special use, to hear mass and a sermon. The expense of the worship, and the salary of the priests officiating in the church or chapel (oratorio, as it is called), were defrayed 262 LOEEKZO BENONI. by a small monthly contribution from each member of the brotherhood. There were in my time two principal confrateiaiities, that of the " Fucine" (forges), and that of the " Marina" (marine), both of them numerous and rich, and consequently, rivals. These two confraternities went more commonly by the re- spective names of Black and White, from the image of our Savior, which was black in the chapel of the Fucine, and white in that of the Marina. The White and the Black looked upon each other with feelings of jealousy and rivalry, which the government, true to the old adage, divide et impera, far from discouraging, countenanced and fomented. This spirit of emulation displayed itself especially on the occasion of certain processions held by the two establishments at particular sea- sons. Each exerted itself to the utmost to outshine the other. If the White came forth with a new standard (gonfalone), and wax tapers weighing a pound each, the Black were sure, on their next appearance, to have wax tapers of two pounds weight, and a banner twice as large. On one occasion, the White had shown themselves in silk, instead of linen robes; the Black, in their turn, appeared in robes of velvet. In short, by degrees they had come on both sides to the display of unbounded luxury. Gentlemen of fortune had adopted one or other of the establishments, giving large sums of money in proof of their patronage, nay, sometimes going so far as to ruin themselves in that amusement. These gentlemen, called protectors, obtained the distinguished privilege of being allowed to carry either the white or the black crucifix. This honor was sought after with extravagant eagerness, and often very dearly paid for. There is no disputing about tastes. What religion gained by these shows, I knowjiot. Of course, they gave rise to much drinking, much swearing, and much quarrelling. On this particular occasimi, expectation had been on tiptoe about the procession of the Black, and it is but fair to say that the reality exceeded all anticipation. Nothing richer or more magnificent can be imagined. The hooded robes were of various-colored velvet — real Genoa velvet, embroidered with BLA.CK AND WHrrE — A GEACEFUL PICTtTEE. 263 gold and silver. Those of the four very tall men who headed the procession, and bore massive silver rods, were of crimson velvet, so loaded with gold that the wearers bent under the weight. Each of these robes was estimated to be worth two hundred pounds. The least costly were of thirty pounds value. Each individual in the procession held in his hands a large waxen torch lighted, and it might be literally said that torrents of wax flowed on all sides. There were four large crosses of most costly materials : one of mother-of-pearl tipped with massive gold, one of tortoise-shell with massive silver, a third of ebony inlaid with gold, and with tips of the same precious metal, and lastly, a fourth, not only tipped, but covered all over with chased silver plates. Each cross had its band of music. That which preceded the crucifix numbered sixty musicians. This cross had tips of massive gold, whence depended clusters of grapes, and bunches of ears of corn of the same metal, and of the most exquisite workmanship. The I.N.R.I. was composed entirely of diamonds. A child on horseback, representing, I believe, St. John the Baptist — to what purpose or end I do not know — was clad in a golden tunic, wonderfully imitating a sheep-skin, and the housings of the horse were resplendent with gold and jewels. G-old, always gold — gold on everything and everywhere. The splendor and the richness became really sickening. The pro- cession closed with a large gold and silver reliquary, containing I know not what relics, and carried by twenty bearers, march- ing with measured step. The procession was long, and proceeded slowly, so that it took some hours to pass by. The windows of the houses on its line of march were ornamented with draperies of various colors, most of thgn red, and were crowded with spectators, who testified their satisfaction by scattering flowers in handfuls. I had had quite enough of the sight, and was just about to elbow my way out of the crowd, when my attention was arrested by a most graceful picture. At one of the casements of a first story, there sat a yoimg person with her girlish curling head thrown backward, seem- ingly in deprecation of a large red hand, full of flowers, and 26 i LOKKNZO BENOKI. held high in threatening show of hurling them down upon her. The attitude of the young girl was charming, full of unstudied grace. The face of the owner of the hand, who stood a little behind, was hidden by this youthful head, which presently moved a little aside, and discovered to view the man — Bel- toni ! Almost at the same instant, the little head resumed its natural position, and looked down. It was Lilla ! Our eyes met half-way, and she retreated hastily. I felt as if a dagger had pierced my heart. I darted through the crowd like a madman, and rushed home. The little packet of Lilla's letters and keepsakes lay in a drawer, still carefully tied up and sealed, as I had brought it back seven months before. I took it out, and as it was not addressed, I wrote in my very best hand, " To La Signora Marchesa d'Anfo, 3d June, one o'clock in the afternoon. To he delivered immediately'' I put the packet into my pocket, and went full speed to my old friend the gardener. Fortunately, a nephew of his, a lad of fourteen, happened to be at home. I took the boy with me, and led the way to Lilla's house. I directed the lad to go up stairs, and leave the little parcel with her maid, and so he did. Lilla was not yet come home. How fortunate ! I had been able to manage the whole thing within an hour.- " She will see at least that I did not hesitate," thought I. I put into the boy's hand a sum of money that made him stare, and a quarter of an hour afterward, I was in my own room again. The ex- citement that had kept me up till then was over, and I felt sick at heart, lonely — miserable beyond expression. I threw myself upon a sofa, hid my head among the cushions to stifle my sobs, and wept like a child. When I raised my head, Santina was standing by my side. I was both angry and ashamed at her intrusion. " What busi- ness have you here ? why do you come spying after me ?" Santina begged ,my pardon, and stammered that she was afraid I was unwell. " In future, pray, have no such fears," said I, " and be less inquisitive. Begone !" Much mortified, she moved toward the door. In Italy servants are considered as forming a part of the SANTINA ON THE WATCH. 265 family, and are allowed a degree of familiarity which would shock English habits, and which, in Santina's case, particularly with respect to myself, was augmented by the circumstance of my having taught her to read and write. I felt I had been too harsh, and I called her back. " Now don't look so ; Santina, I know that you are a good girl and mean no harm." " I can not bear to see you in this way," she replied with a ■sob. It was now my turn to comfort her. " Never mind, Ss^ntina, it will not kill me. It will soon be over." " I wish I had burnt that letter. I wish I knew the lady," said Santina, with concentrated passion. •' What letter ! what lady V " That letter in a lady's hand-writing that I gave you four- teen months ago." " And on account of which, I suppose, you have been so cross to me ever since." " My heart told me that the letter would bring you unhap- piness." " Perhaps you have guessed right. You have a wonderful memoCT', child. Should you know that handwriting again ?" " Yes, I should know that writing among a thousand." " Well, if there come any letters in the same hand, you must return them, and say it is by my order." Santina's features brightened. '.' Depend upon me ; I shall take good care." And she did take good care, with a zeal beyond praise. There came a letter next day ; there came several the follow- ing days. All were pitilessly refused. The moment Santina heard the bell, she would rush to the door, and a week after- ward when we went into the country, she insisted on being left in town, lest in her absence my orders should be eluded ; and did not join us at San Secondo till a month later. How much was San Secondo altered ! It hardly seemed to be the same place I had known in the preceding years. The green of the country had lost its freshness, the very air was less clear. Fantasio was not there, and alas ! that bright 13 266 roEENzo benoni. image, whicli had illumined all without and within me, was darkened. There, on the slope of the hill, rose that same white cottage with its green blinds, the mere sight of which in former times was a joy to my eyes. How sadly altered it looked now, how empty and how cheerless ! although the open blinds assured us of its being still inhabited. I had spent three months at San Secondo, three long dis- consolate months of dreary void, regret, and painful dwelling on the past. Each day I had said — and repeated to myself- over and over again — that Lilla had never loved me; that the young enthusiastic conspirator might have struck her fancy, but had never touched her heart ; that there was between her and me complete incompatibility of temper, of feeling, of judg- ment, and of habits. In short, I had so far succeeded, as to work myself into comparative peace of mind — that dull heavy peace of mind which springs from very hopelessness, and is dearly bought by the loss of long-cherished illusions — when a letter from Lilla, after more than two months' silence, made its way to me, and upset me altogether. The hand-writing of this letter had been so cleverly disguised, that Santina herself had handed it to me. I had opened it without the least suspicion, and — I was weak enough |o read it. Lilla treated me with great haughtiness. She was indig- nant at what she stylei my want of breeding and good man- ners. She had left me time enough for consideration, but to no avail. She must, once .for all, tell me what she had in her mind. To do so she had been obliged to have recourse to a stratagem, that her letter might reach my hands ; I might, however, be quite easy, she would not disturb me in future. What she had to say was this; — that she was not the dupe of the pretext which I had taken to break with her. She had long perceived that I meditated deserting her. I was quite free to do so, she would try to console herself; but she owed it to herself to tell me, that the manner in which I had brought about the rupture was mean, cowardly, odious, unworthy of a gentleman, etc., etc. The letter ended by hinting mysteriously at my new loves, in which she wished me much happiness. This letter reopened all 'my wounds, and threw me into a THE SHADY EETRKAT. 267 fever. That she should represent herself as irreproachable, and cast all the blame on me ! that she should stand forth as a victim, after all she had made me suffer ! This was more than I could bear. Under the first impulse I framed an an- swer, such as, I thank God to the present day, I did not send. " Had I not better seek an interview, and overwhelm her with my indignation V Many hours did I spend in the most pain- ful uncertainty as to what was best for me to do. At last I determined on the only course that appeared to me, and that really was, reasonable and dignified. I enclosed Lilla's letter under cover, and sent it back to her address vnthout one word. Yet in that letter, under which I had smarted, there was a drop of comfort, Lilla was jealous ; and I confess, to my shame, that my heart thrilled with delight at the thought. Jealous of whom 1 Most likely of ^Santina. Lilla's-maid had brought some of her mistress's letters, and had been spoken to by Santina. Now Santina, though rather strange looking, was a pretty girl ; and the determination and quickness with which she had executed my orders might easily have led both the maid and the mistress into a belief that she had some selfish motive of her own in preventing the letters from reaching their destination. I have already said that in front of the house in which we lived at San Secondo there was a meadow, extending to the edge of the torrent. A little to the right, perhaps two hun- dred paces from the house, stood a copse, the only trees that broke the uniformity of level green, and under the sh'adejof which I had a habit of sitting to read or meditate. I had -re- marked that, in the heat of the day, this little woodrwas the resort of many birds, especially of thrushes and^blackbirds, which came to seek the cool shade. I had caused a thatched shed to be erected at the foot of one of the largest trees, just high enough for me to stand in it ; and thence, sheltered from the sun, and the sharp eyes of the feathered race, I shot at them with certain aim. The hut was in sight of the house, and within call, and I used always to go there some time be- fore the hour of meals, and remain till called. On the day following that on which Ihad sent back Lilla's letter, I went 268 LOEENZO BENONI. as usaal to this hiding-place ; and, as T was just about creeping into it, who should come forth hut — Lilla herself ! " Here you are at last," said she. " I have been watching and waiting for you these two hours." I was so astonished, so petrified, that I could not find a word to say. " You little expected," pursued she bitterly, " that I should one day make use of your lively description of this valley, and of what you used to call your oasis in the desert, to come and surprise you — not very agieeably, as it appears." "■' If you wished to surprise me, I confess you have succeeded most completely. Agreeably it can scarcely be. The step you have taken is so imprudent, so rash — we may be seen from every side." Lilla's lip curled. "You are afraid I should injure my reputation? How ex- tremely considerate you have all at once become ! You were less so when we used to meet every day in the garden." We were within sight of the house, and I urged the neces- sity of retiring to a less-exposed situation. She little cared, she said, who saw her or who did not. However, I prevailed upon her to follow me a little farther on, beyond a row of trees. She wore a riding-habit, and held a riding-whip in her hand. Her face was pale, her lips white and contracted. As she did not speak, I broke the silence. " I regret to see you here, because I fear, nay, I am sure, that no good can come of this meeting. However, here I am, ready to listen to anything you may have to say." " You have a quiet, cool, unobtrusive way, quite a way of your own of saying and doing sharp things, that makes one's blood boil." I saw that she was working herself into a passion, and stood silent. There was a pause. " But yesterday," she broke out, " you sent me back a letter that I had written to you. What right have you to deal by me in this manner ? By what right do you treat me with such contempt and scorn V " You attribute to me feelings and intentions which I have AN UKEXPECTED JNTEEVIlfiW. 269 not, and against which I protest. I wish to say nothing that can hurt you ; but allow me to observe, that if, in a moment of passion, I were to write a letter unfounded in fact and extrav- agant in expression, I should feel glad and thankful that such a letter were returned to me." She colored to the eyes. " Suppose the letter were such as you say, why not set the writer right as to unfounded facts ? why not resent the extrav- agant expressions ? why not act, in a word, like a man who has warm blood in his veins, and not like a ," she hesi- tated a moment for an expression, " and not like a coward V I smarted under the lash, but said with forced calmness, " You know very well that you do not believe what you say." She never stopped to listen to me, but went on vehemently : " What outrages, intentional, premeditated outrages, you have heaped upon me ! Deny it, if you dare !" " I do most positively deny it." ' " "What, then, do you call returning my letters and my keep- sakes without one word of explanation?" " Tou forget that there was a date affixed to the packet of your letters and keepsakes — a date which in itself ought to have been an all-sufficient explanation.' " Your date," replied Lilla, biting her lips, " was nothing but gratuitous insolence, and of a piece with your capricious and unmanly conduct toward me. What, in Heaven's name, was my great crime, that I should be treated as if I were the most degraded of my sex 1" Every nerve in my frame thrilled with indignation at the recollection of the scene at the window, and of all I had since endured ; but I commanded myself, and answered calmly — " Pray do not let us condescend to recriminate as to the past. Let us rather learn a lesson from it. We have made an experiment. We were but two children, we knew little of each other, little of ourselves. Time has brought to view differences of feeling and habits which are so incompatible — in short, the experiment has failed. Let us make, up our minds to the truth. — You have never loved me." " Perhaps not," interrupted Lilla bluntly ; " I do not know. 270 LOEENZO BB^NONI. But this I know," continued she warmly, " that since ," she stopped, then suddenly changing her tone — , "We. must be friends, or enemies to the very death! — • Choose !" " My choice is already made," said I, breathing more freely ; " let us be friends, and part in peace." " Not so, not part ! Be once more to me what you were in former times." " That I can not, that I never shall be," was my hasty reply. " Never, did you say 1" and she shook, as with an ague, from head to foot. I did not repeat the word, but made a gesture that meant as much. " Well, then, let us be enemies, and act as such ! I must have your life, or you mine !" " So saying, she drew out of the pocket of her riding-dress two small pistols, aad offered one to me. " Why, this is noonday madness," cried I, almost smiling, as I took the pistol and threw it to the ground. " You may shoot at me, if it gratifies you, but I shall never lift my little finger against a woman." " A woman ! how generous !" sneered she. " Howwell that look of manly superiority becomes you !" Then breaking off in a burst of rage : — " Yes, a woman, a mortally-offended woman, who demands reparation ; do you hear? have you no Etpark of honor left?" I stood immovable. I saw she was on the point of striking me with her riding-whip, but I did not move. " Oh, that I were a mai»!" and she flung the pistol she held to the ground. " I wish you were !" muttered I. " Do you ?" retorted she. " I take note of the wish, and you shall remember it some day !" and she turned away. She had not taken ten steps when Santina's voice was heard at a little distance, calling me by name. Lilla came back, and said, laughing hysterically — " Is that your black-a-moor ? I must see her." PAINFUL EXTRBMITT. 271 "•You sliall not," said I. " Are you afraid that I shall kill her ?" '' You mean to give offence to a poor, innocent girl, who never did you any harm," said I ; " that is what I fear, and shall not permit." Still Lilla persisted, and strove to push me aside. What could I do ? To prevent mischief, I had no other means hut to call to Santina that I was coming, and desire her to go hack, while I took hoth of Lilla's hands, and held them, till I saw Santina re-enter the house. I then set Lilla free, and said : — "I beg pardon for the violence I have offered. You will thank me one day for having prevented you from committing an act unworthy of you." " Pitiful wretch !" said she in a hoarse voice, " your account with me is heavy, but a day of reckoning will come ; take my word for that !" So saying, she turned away. For my part, I returned to the house in a state of agitation more easy to imagine than to describe. 272 LOKBNZO BENONI CHAPTER XXIX. INTRODUCES THE READER TO A QUEER MARKET A PUSSY LITTLE MAN, AND A LETTER PROM FANTASIO. The scene I have just depicted left teliind it a deep and most painful impression. That Lilla was wilfiil and passion- ate, I knew of old ; but that she would allow herself to be car- ried away to a pitch of violence such as I had just witnessed, was what I never would have believed. I now felt that she was a woman capable of putting her threats into execution, and of bringing me into some serious scrape. Suppose she were to irritate her brother's mind against me ! This supposi- tion, and the unpleasant consequences to which it might pos- sibly lead if it were ever realized, gave me pain and annoy- ance ; for, without personally knowing Count Alberto, I had a high esteem and even friendship for him. These thoughts kept me long and considerably uneasy ; but as time wore on without bringing any untoward incident, my mind reverted to them less frequently; though still, at intervals, they would recur in their pristine intensity, and Lilla's parting words and accent would ring in my ears like an echo of evil presage. I had resumed my usual course of life, spending the morn- ing hours till mid-day at home, from twelve o'clock till two in the chambers of the old barrister under whom I was nomi- nally studying law, and in the evening taking long walks with Caesar and Alfred. My habits were even more retired than ever; and, with the exception of the prince — who had just returned from a journey to Naples — of Sforza, and some other intimate friends, who came to our house almost daily, I saw no one. ■\\'E RALLY ROUND O^SAR. 273 By tliis time we had partly recovered from the stupor of discouragement into which we had heen thrown by the de- • parture of Fantasio, and had begun to look about us again. This was chiefly owing to Oaisar, the energy and superiority of whose character were naturally assuring to him a complete ascendency over the whole youthful set, for a time dispersed and disheartened, but now, with new courage and spirit, rallying round him as their leader. If any one among us was able to fill the void left by Fantasio, beyond a doubt it was Cassar. He was as noble a fellow as ever trod the earth ; his was a lofty mind, and a heart of gold. Alas ! I may he allowed to render him justice now, though he was my brother. It is a privilege for which, God knows, I have paid dearly enough. Fantasio had always rated him far above all the rest of us ; and, while entertaining a sincere affection for me, he loved Caesar still better, and held him also in higher esti- mation. I knew this, but was not jealous ; on the contrary, my pride in Osesar found gratification in the preference shown for him. My father made a great fuss about getting me clients, and would often ask whether such or such a person had not come to consult me. " Nobody had come." This negative answer never failed to provoke him ; and by dint of searching his brains, he at last ferreted out a supposed cause for my lack of practice. " I had no fixed hours for receiving clients. A man of business should certainly stick to his chambers, so as to be found there at any moment." Truly, I^did not see how sitting in my room was to exercise a magnetic attraction on clients ; but, for the sake of peace at home, I yielded the point, and took to the habit of spending the morning in my little study. One day in December, while I was there as usual, smoking away the time, I heard, to my no little surprise, the door of the small lobby that led to my sanctum pushed open. Was this my first client ? Presently there came a knock at the inner door. I instantly threw away my cigar, assumed as grave a look as I could on so short a notice, and desired -the person to come in. As nobody appeared, though I repeated 12* 274 LOEENZO BENONl. • the invitation several times, I went to the door, and found standing there a middle-aged, sun-burnt sailor, who handed me a letter. This epistle informed me that a life insurance company had just been set up at Marseilles, and wished to establish a corresponding house in Genoa; that the writer, agent for the aforesaid company, had been directed to apply to me, as a person probably both willing and able to forward the undertaking ; and that the undersigned would be happy to give me a meeting, and talk the matter over next morning at twelve, if it should suit my engagements to be at that hour at the Loggia of Banchi — in the covered exchange, on the side facing Via degli Orefici — Goldsmith's street. Such was the substance of the letter, interspersed with vari- ous expressions highly complimentary to me, and not a few faults in spelling. It wa« signed " Lazzarino." "And who is Signor Lazzarino?" said I to the bearer. The man, for sole answer, carried his hands first to his ears, then to his mouth, shaking his head. This pantomime clearly meant that he was deaf and dumb. An odd letter, thought I, and a queer messenger, not likely to sin in the way of in- discretion. There evidently lurked some mystery in this invitation. Could it come from Lilla 1 It was very improbable that, if she had any motive for wishing to see me, she would appoint the most crowded part of the town as trysting-place. The mention of Marseilles, where I knew Fantasio to be, suggested rather the idea, that the purpose of this mysterious rendezvous might be to communicate some message from him. At all events, the only way of clearing up the matter was to go to the place appointed ; and next morning, accordingly, a little before twelve o'clock, I was in the Loggia of Banchi, walking up and down the side that faces Via degli Orefici. During this perambulation, I was struck with surprise at the great number of priests assembled in this spot, some standing in groups, some sitting on chairs and benches, some walking up and down as I myself was doing. One of these last, after having eyed me attentively, muttered, as he passed. THE SALE OF MAISSES. 276 some words evidently addressed to me, tut tlie meaning of which I could not catch. Could lie be my man 1 Under this impression, I managed to pass very near him on my first turn, when he again spoke to me. This time I did not lose a word of what he said. " Any masses, sir 1 very cheap." I could make nothing of it ; and he, no doubt, seeing as much by the blank hesitation of my countenance, turned and walked away. It was not till some time afterward, that by inquiry and personal observation, I came to learn the meaning of this priest's words, and the motive which brought so many of his brethren to that place. While Lazzarino keeps us waiting, I may as well impart to the reader my information on the subject. There is scarcely any man so destitute as to die without leaving something to pay for a certain number of masses for the benefit of his soul, or hardly any poor woman who has not, from time to time, some masses performed, either for the soul of a deceased relative, for the cure of some sick member of her family, or for some such object. The sale of masses, therefore, is very considerable in Italy. I purposely say the sale, for the mass is paid for, and forms an essential part of a priest's in- come. The price varies according to the demand, exactly like the price of stocks, and, like them, masses rise or fall with the greater or less supply in the market. The spot where this singular exchange was held, where the price of masses was regulated, and all transactions relative to this odd species of merchandise took place, was precisely the Loggia of Banchi, on the side facing Goldsmith's street. If it was your wish to have a mass said immediately, or if you had an investment of five hundred masses to make, you could find what you wanted in this place. Brokers (priests of course) came to meet you, and made the bargain. Suppose a priest, who had some hundreds of masses to say, to be in want of ready money, he found there these said brokers, who took the masses at a discount, and paid him the difference. Some of the big-wigs — Eothschilds of this exchange — had in their pocket-books thousands and thousands of masses. These men monopolized the ware at a good price, and then 276 LOEKNZO BENONI. got rid of it at a profit to poor priests, their clients (^especially to those from the country), and thus realized considerable gains. This sale of masses sometimes gave rise to very ludicrous scenes. I have frequented the place often enough to witness a great variety of such. 1 shall merely note the following : — A livery servant, sent by his master from Albaro, a large village at a few miles distance, was "bargaining with a priest for a mass to be celebrated at the said place. The servant had been authorized to bid as much as three francs ; but it was Sunday, the weather was bad, and there were but few priests at leisure. The merchandise was looking up. " I won't stir for less than five francs," says the priest turn- ing away, as if to break off the conference. " Five francs ! that is unconscionable !" returned the servant. " Why, one might get a Novena* for that!" "Well, then, get your Novena, but you shall not have a mass." the priest crossed the street, and entered a liquor shop. " Boy, a glass of brandy !" said he to the lad behind the counter. The servant, who followed close at the priest's heels, turned pale. If the priest should break his fast, farewell to all hope of a mass. , " I'll give you four francs, though I am sure I shall be scolded." " Five francs ! that's my first and last word," — raising the glass to his lips — " you may take it or leave it as you please." He was just on the point of swallowing the contents, when the servant stopped his Land, saying — '' You drive a very hard bargain ; however, you shall have the five francs." And so it was settled. To return to our subject. I had made half a dozen false physiognomic judgments, when a little fellow, young and slen- der, brushing hurriedly past, let fall these words in my ear— * A religious service performed nine days running— as saleable an article as the mass. A KNOWING ONH. 277 "Mum! Follow me — Lazzarino !" and he sauii,tered away, I keeping at his heels. He was dressed in smart sailor's attire, glazed hat, blue jacket and trousers, red sash round his waist, and his very black hair dangling in twisted corkscrew curls on each side of his face. My conductor must have had an innate horror of the straight line,_and an equal predilection for a crooked one, to lead the way, as he did, through' a maze of narrow lanes and winding alleys, in order to come at last to Sottoripa, to reach which we needed but to cross the piazza of Banchi. Sottoripa is a dai'k vaulted passage, or rather sxiccession of passages, skirting the port, and along which almost every second door is that of some low tavern or public-house, the exclusive resort of sailors and porters. Lazzarino stopped in front of one of these taverns, and having looked suspiciously around, went in, crossed the large room full of guests, and led the way to a little dirty private apartment, which was vacant. A pint of wine was ordered and brought, and there we sat staring at each other across a small table. " Have you seen my brother's new brig, the ' Polycrates ' ?" asked my companion at once in a loud voice. Instead of answering, I looked at my interlocutor in some alarm, who, no doubt reading my impression in my face, by way of reassuring me, winked knowingly, and went on in the same tone. " As fine a vessel as ever floated or cut the waves." " Indeed !" said I. " Ay, as true as you sit there. She was built at Varazze. Now," added he, after a moment's pause, in a tone of real saddened reflection, " few people know that there is a place of such a name in the world ; and yet this poor little Italian Varazze turns out such a beautiful craft as that, which posi- tively outsailed an English frigate, and a good sailer too, last trip to Leghorn. Indeed she did." The dialogue, or rather I should say the monologue, went on for some time in this strain, till my new friend rose, and with the cautious jerks and 'steps of a bufib, in every duet of every opera biifFa, went to the door, listened, looked through 278 LOEENZO BENONI. the key-hole, and then returned stealthily ; and suddenly changing his tone — " A me nonme laficcano — an old bird like me is not caught with chaff !" whispered he, while his features brightened, and his whole countenance beamed with intense self-satisfaction. " Come now, was not the life insurance company a capital hit ? ha ! ha !" and he laughed till he held both his sides. These few words gave me at once an insight into the charac- ter before me. Lazzarino was a specimen of that numerous family born to make much ado about nothing, and to compli- cate what is simple. They are for ever fighting windmills instead of giants, and pride themselves on doing so. An individual of this genus, who meddles in conspiracy — and nature leads them that way — is the very perfection of the kind. " Now say," resumed Lazzarino, " hav'n't I managed this matter knowingly?" I was on the point of answering that one half the fuss he had made about this meeting was more than enough to set all the spies of the town on our track ; but on second thoughts I kept this sentiment to myself, and nodded acquiescence, adding — "Now, would you be so good as to explain" — " All right, all right !" interrupted the little fellow ; " when Lazzarino undertakes a trust . . .hush! — well, well, Lazza- rino is known, and it is not for me to say any more upon the subject." Then giving himself a great thump on his breast, he added, " Here it is, all safe !" and chuckled with delight. Was this an allusion to the satisfactory state of his lungs, or to something that lay hidden under the breast of his blue jacket ? I clung rather to the latter hypothesis, and accord ingly said — " If I understand you right, you have a message to deliver." "A message! — you may call it a message if you please. Fantasio called it something else when he confided it to me. 'Lazzarino,' these were his very words, 'here is a bombshell, ay, and with the fusee burning. Now, will you carry it safe to my friends out there V — ' That I will,' says I. ' Mind you, says he, this is a matter of life and death, and' rather than let A BOMB-SHKLI.. 279 tliat packet fall into any but the right hands, you must blow yoxu-self and it to atoms. Will you undertake it?' — 'I will,' says I ; and here it is safe and sound,'' with a fresh thump on his chest. " What do you say to that, eh 1" " I say yon are a jewel of a man," answered I ; " but where is the packet ?" " Stop a bit,' returned Lazzarino ; " you must know all about it first," and he went on to give me a detailed account of all the ingenious contrivances he had hit upon to convey this same ■ shell sa.{e\y — of the numerous narrow escapes he had had, and of the astonishing amount of presence of mind, spirit, and cool- ness, which had been required to overcome the various diffi- culties. On my again mentioning the letter, he began to ex- patiate on the state of parties in France, affirmed that Louis Philippe was a lost man, that things in general were going on capitally, &c., &c. Having thus tantalized me to his heart's content, Lazzarino went to the door again, looked through the key-hole, and at last drew forth from the folds of his blue jacket, a letter of such stupendous dimensions, that at sight of it I could not help breaking into an immoderate fit of laughter, seeing which Lazzarino chimed in most heartily, only stopping now and then just to ask if he was a man or, if he was not. I said he was a clever fellow, and moved to take leave. Lazzarino reiterated his offers. If I wanted him I had only to inquire for Lazzarino at Banchi. Everybody knew Lazza- rino. He always spoke of himself in the third person. His name was Lazzaro Stella, but he went commonly by the fa- miliar appellation of '' Lazzarino." He told me that his brother Adriano, a merchant-captain, was expected soon from Leghorn ; a regular brick, who was deep in Fantasio's counsels, and knew everything about the shell. Thereupon we shook hands and parted. A letter from Fantasio, especially after so long a silence, was quite an event, and great was my impatience and that of Caesar to become acquainted with its contents. However, as by the time I got home dinner was on the table, it was a full hour before we could shut ourselves up in my room and open the monster epistle. Well might Lazzarino call it a shell with 280 ^ LOEENZO BENONI. the fusee burning. There was in it more than enough to blow himself, and some others too, sky-high. It contained — 1st. A quantity of letters of all sizes, directed to different persons in Genoa, Turin, Leghorn, &c. ; those for Genoa to be delivered with our own hands, those for other towns to be sent by some safe opportunity. 2d. A long and most minutely detailed plan of a secret society. 3d. A letter filling four sheets of foolscap paper, addressed to the "two brothers," of which I must here give as brief an abstract as possible. The order of things that'had arisen out of the Revolution of July was, according to Fantasio's account, satisfactory to no one, and France was on the eve of a new revolution. Political sects were hard at work there as well as in Germany, Hun- gary, Southern Italy, and elsewhere, to bring about an Euro- pean insurrection. There was not a moment, therefore, to be lost, if we wished to be in readiness to act in concert with the other countries when the favorable opportunity should arrive. Wc must get ourselves organized without the loss of a day. We knew by our own experience — Fantasio went on to say — that Carbonarism with its pedantic delays, its limited circle of action, its distrust of youth, would never do. On the other hand, the fedeiating scheme, carried on as hitherto, though it would afford us useful elements for a new system of things, was far too loosely strung together to become as effective an instrument as was called for by the exigencies of the times. To obtain a deliberative voice in the councils of the secret alliance of nations, we must have a regular, complete, and above all, strongly centralized organization. According to Fantasio, the spirit of the age required that all political associations should rest upon some decided prin- ciple, and have an avowed creed. Secret societies had hitherto been contented with proposing to themselves as their final aim liberty in the abstract, without considering or determining what form of government would afford tlie best guaranties for its establishment, gradual development, and duration. It was high time to put an end to this vaffue. mistv state of tliino-g. FANTASIO'S VIEWS. 281 high time to put forward a creed and a banner — which, of course, could be^no other than a republican one. Europe was gravitating toward that centre, and the govern- ment which should succeed that of Louis Philippe would to a certainty be a republic. Fantasio adduced at great length, and with remarkable strength of argument, the reason which, in respect to Italy, rendered the establishment of a republic not only eligible but necessary. The homogeneity of princi- ple in the elements of the new republican association would secure to it an irresistible force of cohesion, and, when the day of trial should come, an overwhelming power of action. And he ventured to say that the society, of which he now sent us the plan and regulations, was such as was required by the spirit of the present day, and the general disposition of the public mind in Europe. Our patriotic feelings, and our friendship for himself, made Fantasio feel sure of our assistance. Influential names were by no means necessary j the one thing needful was the co- operation of men of energetic will and steadfast faith — men . active, indefatigable, and determined to succeed or to die in the attempt. Now, such he knew us to be. A provisional committee ought instantly to be formed in Genoa, and to enter without a moment's delay on the task of the new organization. Csesar, Sforza, the prince, Lazzarino's brother (of whom Fan- tasio spoke highly), and myself, could form a primary nucleus, to which might accede in course of time such persons as we should think fit. As for himself (Fantasio), he was as well placed as possible to give us information,, useful directions, and help of every kind. He was in constant communication with the European committee in Paris, and with the most distinguished members of the Italian emigration, all of them old experienced conspir- ators. With some of these he had united to form a directing committee at Marseilles. He hoped to hear from us soon, and pointed out a safe and regular channel of correspondence from Genoa to Marseilles, and vice versa. As to Lazzarino, the bearer of the letter, Fantasio said we were not to mind his odd ways. Though the man could not 282 LOEENZO BENONI. sneeze without looking mysterious, and making a fuss about it, he was a most devoted creature, entirely to be trusted, and likely to be useful iu many ways ; and so in fact he proved. Added to this, Lazzarino's brother, Adriano, was an extremely influential person among men on 'change, and those connected with shipping, and altogether a most valuable acquisition. Then followed a complete plan of the new society, descend- ing even to the most trifling details ; as to the form of the administration of the oath, the manner of affiliation, the words and signs of recognition, etc. The principal outlines of the association may be summed up as follows : A central com- mittee at Genoa, in direct communication with the directing one at Marseilles ; provincial committees in all the principal towns, in communication with the central one; and propa- gandist leaders in every minor town or village, in communi- cation with the provincial committees; the adepts were of two sorts, simple members and propagandists, the latter only having the right of initiation. A series of very minute and very judicious rules was then agreed on, intended to regulate and limit the intercourse of members with each other. Everything in order to secure secrecy and to prevent indiscretion, was so nicely calculated, and so cleverly arranged, as to render detection next to impossible. All this looked very well on paper; it only remained to be seen whether it would answer as well in practice. When we had perused the whole our eyes met in sUence. Caesar looked very grave. " What do you say to this, Caesar 1" " Why, my only fear is that we should prove unequal to the trust; yet," pursued he, after a pause, "it is tempting, it assigns to us a noble part, to stand foremost in devotion and danger." " Had we not better see our friends," said I, " and hear their opinion 1" "I was just thinking so," was his reply. CONSULTATION. 283 CHAPTEE XXX. WE ENTER INTO PANTASlo's VIEWS, AND SET TO WORK ACCORD- INGLY RISE AND PROGRESS OF THE NEW ASSOCIATION. On the evening of that very day, at our request, Alfred, Sforza, and the prince, assemhled at our house, and we com- municated to them Fantasio's letter. On Sforza^nd the prince it had the effect which the smell of gunpowder is said to have on veteran soldiers. They clapped their hands in applause, and said it was the " very thing !" Alfred looked puzzled as usual, when something hold and extraordinary suddenly pre- sented itself hefore him. " I admire your readiness, my dear friends," said Osesar. " I know of old that yoUrs is the faith that levels mountains. Yet you will not, I hope, take it amiss, if I say two words to point out clearly the precise nature of the proposed undertaking. Here are we, five young, very young men, with but limited means, and we are called upon to do nothing less than to over- throw an established government. We have no resources to rely upon but those which we shall be able to create for our- selves. Consider then, we have everything to do. This is the long and the short of the matter. Will you undertake this in the face of such difficulties V " We will V shouted Sforza and the prince in a breath. " So be it, then !" resumed Caesar, " and so God help us ! That our efforts may be blessed, let us set to our task honestly and with straightforwardness. Let there he no humbug — no phantasmagoria — we have had more than enough of that — no seductive hints about illustrious names, kept discreetly in- cog. — no imaginary princes of the blood in the back-ground. 284: LOEKNZO BENONI. Let any one who joins us know that he joins a set of men, whose power rests neither on high connections, nor on the sup- port of any one of rank or station, but whose dependence is on their pure devotion, and indomitable will. On this under- standing, I am your man !" "And our leader for ever!" cried at once Sforza and the prince, rising and embracing Csesar. Alfred, spurred by their example, did the same. " Thank you, my friends," said Caesar ; " but enough of this, and now to business. I have a presentiment that few of us will live to see the final results of our labors, but the seed we have sown will shoot forth after us, and the bread we have cast upon the waters will be found again." How many times in after-days have I recalled these words, and the melancholy smile that accompanied them ! On the morrow, according to previous agreement, the prince started for Turin, Sforza for Nice, and Alfred for Sarzana, for all of which places Fantasio had furnished us with letters of introduction. Nice being situated on the borders of Prance, at no great distance from Marseilles, and smuggling upon a large scale being carried on along the coast between the two countries, Fantasio had dwelt upon the paramount importance of establishing there, as soon as possible, a nucleus of sure adherents, willing to receive and forward such political books or printed papers as he might have occasion to ^end. Sforza, though poor as a rat, could not be prevailed upon to accept any money for his travelling expenses, which Alfred and the prince repeatedly oifered him. He had savings enough, he said (God knows what they were !) to undertake the jour- ney, and having an economical travelling system of his own, a little money went a great way. His boasted system, poor fellow, was travelling on foot. His expulsion from college had not only debarred him from entering the army, for which he had a decided taste, but had also precluded his following any of the liberal professions. His father, who farmed a little estate of his own some leagues from Genoa, and contrived to maintain himself by it, lacked the means, in spite of the best will, to support his son in the capital ; and Sforza, though an THE CONSPIEACT. 285 affectionate son, was too much engrossed by politics to prevail upon himself to settle in a small hamlet, cut off from all intel- lectual and political communication. His only means of sup- port was giving a few cheap drawing-lessons, by which indeed he earned little ; but his habits were so frugal, and his wants so few, that he contrived with that little to make a decent figure. OsEsar and I remained in town, and took upon ourselves the delivery of those of Fantasio's letters that were destined for Genoa, and to effect and superintend the transformation of the federating scheme into a regular secret association. But first of all we let Fantasio know, by the safe means of correspond- ence he had suggested, that his plan was accepted, and that a provisional central committee had been constituted, composed of Csesar, Sforza, the prince, and myself. Alfred, always timid and self-diffident, could not be prevailed upon to make part of it nominally, though he did so in point of fact. We re- served a place for Adriano, Lazzarino's brother, who, on his arrival a few days afterward, accepted it ; and one for Count Alberto, to whom one of Fantasio's letters was addressed. But Count Alberto declined, on the plea that, as a Carbonaro, he did not feel himself free to belong to any other sect. This was a reasonable scruple, and we urged the matter no further. But Count Alberto volunteered his services and his earnest co- operation, so as to become a. valuable link between us and the Carbonari, if ever they should resume activity. There was no difficulty in transforming the federates into regular associates. Nine out of ten most willingly joined the new sect. The adoption of a republican creed met with few if any objections. If there was to be a creed, it was a neces^ sity, acknowledged even by the partisans of constitutional monarchy, that it should be the republican. Representative monarchy lacked a plausible candidate for the crown of Italy. National pride, of course, would not admit of a foreign mon- arch, and the personal antecedents of all the little Italian princes were so deplorably bad and anti-national, that no per- son in his senses would have thought of offering the crown of Italy to any of them. The pope, of course, was out of the 286 LOKENZO BENONI. question. The Bourbons of Naples, not to speak of tlieir not being considered as Italians, had, since the perjury of Ferdi- nand I. — who had sworn to the constitution of 1820, and then destroyed it — lost all credit, and were looked upon as regular swindlers. The prince of Lucca, as a Bourbon, was in the same predicament. The duke of Tuscany was an Austrian. An Austrian too, in heart, if not by birth, was the duke of Modena, whose mild rule had won for him the surname of the Executioner. The ex-prince of Carignano, then king of Sar- dinia, under the name of Carlo Alberto, was just at that time most unpopular. The Piedmontese, and indeed- the whole peninsula, had hailed his accssion to the throne, six months previously, with high-wrought anticipation. They seemed to have forgotten — to their credit be it said — that there were dark spots on this prince's career since 1821, and only to re- member that it was in the name of Carlo Alberto, then regent, that, in that memorable year, constitutional liberty, however short-lived, had been inaugurated in Piedmont. But as time went on without bringing any change for the better — as the Jesuits continued all-powerful, and not even an amnesty was granted to the prince's old associates in the constitutional movement — a reaction had taken place in public opinion, and the disappointment was proportionate to the preceding expec- tation — that is, excessive. This accounts for the ease with which we got the republican principle accepted by the rising association. But all who made part of it were not republicans from conviction. Many among them, on the contrary, especially among those who in course of time joined it, would have preferred a representative mon- archy to a republic ; and if they accepted the latter, it was from a feeling of the practical impossibility of bringing any- thing else to bear. Others cared only for the one great point, the independence of Italy, and, to secure that, were ready to accede to any form of government. Hence it may easily be understood how it happened that, when in 1848 Carlo Alberto bestowed a constitution, and came to an open rupture with Austria, what remained of the association split into two frac- tions, of which one, composed of the two elements we have GENOKSB AND PIEDM0KTE8B. 287 just mentioned, rallied round the standard of the constitutional king, the champion of national independence ; while the other, the republican party, abstained from taking part in, or de- clared against the movement, because originating with and headed by"a king. A sect starting at once with a social capital of a hundred well-educated, gentlemanly, intelligent, active members, three fourths of whom had a right to initiate others — and how re- fuse this right to such fellows ! — a sect so constituted, I say, could scarcely fail to carry on matters rapidly ; the more so if •w» take into account the richness of the soil on which it was called to labor. The elements of dissatisfaction were perhaps more abundant in the ancient Genoese territory than in any other Italian province. First, there existed there, as in every other part of the mother-country, the purely Italian, or anti- Austrian feeling, the bent and aim of which was the expulsion of the foreigner, and consequent national independence ; and, secondly, the Genoese, or purely municipal feeling, which looked simply to the overthrow of the intruding Piedmontese government. The first of these elements was predominant to a certain degree in the enlightened and cultivated classes, and a part of the young nobles ; but in the popular classes, and among the old patri- cians, the anti-Piedmontese spirit was predominant. The hostile feeling between the Genoese and Piedmontese could be traced very far back, and had its source in the end- less feuds which had existed for ages between the Piedmont- ese monarchy and the republic of Genoa. So when the con- gress of Vienna, in 1815, with one stroke of the pen, struck the proud republic from the map of Europe, to give it up and incorporate it with the kingdom of Piedmont, its old and mor- tal foe, the national pride of classes smarted cruelly, and the Piedmontese were looked upon in the light of intmders and usurpers. Nor can it be denied, consistently with truth, that the new governors did nothing to allay this wounded feeling; on the contrary, they treated Genoa like a conquered country. Nevertheless, as time ran on, the spirit of animosity began to subside ; and in spite of the mismanagement of the new gov- 288 LORENZO BENONI. ernment, the act of incorporation not only came to be accepted with a certain degree of resignation, but even to be looked upon as a step toward the so-desired unity, and an increase of strength, which might one day be turned against the common enemy. Unfortunately, this view, which was pretty general among the enlightened and liberal portion of society, did not extend beyond the circles in which it had origina\;ed, and, with a few exceptions, did not penetrate into the popular clas- ses, who still nursed their resentments, and remained stanchly anti-Piedmontese. Our task among this latter portion of society, rich in its ele- ments of strength and intelligence, was necessarily a task of conciliation fraught with many a difficulty, and requiring a good deal of tact; for if, on the one hand, we could not foster and encourage feelings that were opposed to our own, and to the object we had in view, so, on the other, we could not openly assault prejudices deeply rooted, and to a certain extent re- spectable, and thus estrange from the cause well-meaning and devoted hearts. Have you ever been near to one of those stage decorations, the effect of which is so striking at a distance, and seen how . on a close view the illusion vanishes, and you have nothing before you but gaps, misshapen blots, and strokes seemingly thrown about by chance ? So, to a certain extent, it fares with a conspiracy. Seen from a distance, and viewed as a whole, nothing more striking and full of poetry than the mighty compendium of so many wills and forces moved by one spring, and working its way in the dark, through difficulty and danger of every description, toward the noblest and most legitimate of. conquests, that of liberty and independence ! But if, from the contemplation of this whole, you descend to observe the details — farewell poetry, and hail to very com- monplace prose ! How much egotism, how much littleness, clog the springs of this multifarious machinery ! Verily, Lassure you, the path of a conspirator is not strewn with roses, least of all of conspirators situated as we were, viz., known by and accessible to everybody. I know of no exist- ence which requires such continual self-abnegation and endu- BAD NKWS FKOM TUKIN. 289 ance. A conspirator has to listen to all sorts of gossip, to soothe every variety of vanity, discuss nonsense jseriously, feel sick and stifling under the pressure of empty talk, idle boast- ing, and vulgarity, and yet maintain an unmoved and compla- cent countenance. A conspirator ceases to belong to himself, a,nd becomes the toy of any one he may meet ; he must go out when he would rather stay at home, and stay at home when he would rather go out ; he has to talk when he would be silent, and to hold vigils when longing to be in bed. Verily, I say, it is a miserable life. It has, it is true, its compensa- tions, few but sweet : the occasional intercourse with lofty minds and devoted souls ; the glimpse of the silver lining of the dark cloud, and the conviction that all this wear and tear is smoothing the way, inch by inch, toward a noble and holy end. This conviction we had, and it kept us up on our weary way. In six months of incessant labor, we had obtained re- sults, at which we were ourselves astonished. Not a single town of any importance in the. kingdom but had its committee at work ; not a considerable village that lacked its propagand- ist leader. We had succeeded in establishing regular and sure means of communication between the several committees in the interior, and we corresponded abroad, through affiliated trav- ellers, with Tuscany and Home, through Leghorn and Civita Vecchia, and so on to Naples. The number of adepts, had multiplied to such an extent, that we soon felt the neeessity of slackening the impulse. People of all classes joined us — nobles, commoners, lawyers, men employed under government, merchant-captains, sailors, artisans, priests, and monks. Among these last-named, my, old friend Vadoni, now one of our sect, pushed on propagandism indefatigably, as did our colleagues Adriano Stella and the prince — the first among the seafaring class, the second among the nobility. Things were going on thus prosperously, when a traveller arrived from Turin with a piece of bad news. A disagree- ment about some unimportant point had arisen in the com- mittee at Turin, in consec[uence of which two of its most influ- ential members had given in their resignation. We instantly 13 290 LORENZO BKNONI. made up our minds to despatch a confidential person to Turin, witli instructions to use Lis Le&t endeavors to restore a good understanding among our friends there. This trust was com- mitted to me ; and I undertook it the more readily, as I hoped to make the journey serve for the attainment of another ohjecl which we had much at heart. To obviate the want of arms, of which we had none, and the introduction of which offered such difficulties as amounted to positive impossibility, we had thought of making some pros- elytes in the corps of artillery which guarded the arsenal, so as to gain access to it when occasion might require, and pos- sess ourselves of the arms which we needed. The artillery was reputed, and was, in fact, a well-informed and liberal corps, and we might reasonably reckon upon finding in its ranks a number of sympathizing adherents. But hitherto all our endeavors to establish any communications in that quarter had proved fruitless, partly owing to the extreme caution ne- cessary in so delicate an attempt, and partly to the circum- stance of the artillery being almost all Piedmontese, far from their homes, and consequently ofiering none of those opportu- nities for acquaintanceship which spring from the intercourse of families inhabiting the same town. At Turin, perhaps, by the help of our friends there, I might succeed, through mutual acquaintances, in getting a letter of introduction to some officer of the corps stationed at Genoa, or at least some useful infor- mation on the subject. My father oifered no objection to my going to spend a few days, as I told him, at the house of an old fellow-student. So I went and took a place in the coach, which was to start next morning at seven. THE OPEEA — LILLA AGATN. 291 CHAPTER XXXI. I ANTICIPATE AN EVENING OP QUIET ENJOYMENT, AND MEET WITH NOTHING BUT VEXATION, AND WHAT COMES OP IT. Returning that same evening from the coach-office, to which my portmanteau had been carried, I happened to pass before the Carlo Felice theatre. ' My eye was by chance attracted to the play-bill, and I saw Bellini's Sonnambula advertised, in which a new prima donna was to make her first appearance. It was very long since I had entered a theatre ; the Sonnam- bula was a great favorite of mine, two circumstances which, uniting to a third — that I had nothings better to do, decided me to go in. The house was crowded, and it was with some difficulty I got a place, the last and not a very comfortable one, at the furthest end of a row of orchestra seats. The delicious taran- tella of the first scene was being performed amid universal silence, when the door of a box on my left, just above my head, opened noisily. All eyes turned that way, and so did mine. Presently, in came a tall, elderly lady, with white feathers on her head, followed by Count Alberto, leading in — Lilla ! My heart gave a bound. I had never seen her since the stdi-my meeting at San Secondo, She took her seat with her back to the stage, almost opposite to me, only a little sidewise. There she was in all the brilliancy of youth and beauty, set off by a splendid and very tasteful dress, so "near me that I could hear her rich Italian, and that, had I stood up and stretched out my hand, I could have touched her. I would have given a good deal to have been somewhere 292 LORENZO BENONI. else, but there I was, and there I must remain, and look as unconcerned as I could. Never did spectator appear more engrossed and interested by what was passing on the stage, yet no spectator ever heard or saw less than I did of what was going on. My whole attention was concentrated, and, as it were, riveted on the box above me, and from my, seat being a little further back, I was admirably placed for follow- ing, with the corner of my eye, every the slightest motion of its occupants, without appearing to do so. For a time she was quiet. I suppose she had not discovered me : but her de- meanor soon altered. She became restless, talked much, laughed, and fanned herself incessantly. After the cavatina of the prima donna, there came into the box s, garde du corps, as well as I could guess — but I could not be sure, who was received with demonstrations of high glee. Count Alberto went out, and the new-comer sat by Lilla's side. A flirtation was evidently going on between her and this officer. Presently she whispered something in his ear. The garde du corps, or whoever he might be, took out his opera-glass, leant over the front of the box, and looked down at me ; I was sure of this. The first act being over, there was a change of places between Lilla and the elderly lady in white feathers, and the officer stood up, and used his operajglass pretty freely. I took advantage of that moment to cast a glance into the box. He perceived it, and looked hard at me. I returned his look with usury. This sort of by-play recun-ed two or three times in the course of the evening. Whenever I looked at the box, that man was staring at me. I now distinctly saw that he was an officer of the garde du corps. I was certain I had seen his ugly face before, but I could not give a name to it. To whom did those mustaches — so very fair that they appeared white, and which he was continually twisting and caressing with such insolent foppery — belong? Lilla resuBaed her former seat ; the officer went in and out of the box, apparently quite at home. Nothing remarkable occurred during the remainder of the evening. Toward the end of the opera, Count Alberto reappeared, and the garde KECOGNITION — ANASTASIITS. 293 du corps took his leave, not without sending me a parting glance. At last the curtain fell, and there was an end of it. I was as weary and worn out with the long and painfully anxious restraint I had endured, as if I had been rolling the stone of Sisiphus all day. As I came out, I vowed internally that I would not he caught at the theatre again in a hurry, and, as a consolation lighted a cigar. I had stopped for this purpose, when I felt a tap on the shoulder. Thinking it was somebody who wanted to light his cigar from mine, I tui-ned round, and found myself face to face with the officer. " What do you want 1" said I. . " I want to know," returned he, " what you meant hy look- ing at me so intently ?" " Since you saw I was looking at you, I suppose you were looking at me," was my reply. " Suppose I was, what of that ?" insisted he, twisting his mustache. " A liberty you chose to take with me, sir, I should imagine I might take with you — that's all." " That is not all," returned hei "if I gave offence " " Not in the least," interrupted I, " a cat may look at a king," and I moved on. " The matter can not end in this way," continued my interlocutor, following me ; " if you choose not to be offended, well and good; but I am, and — you know what that means." I thought of the fable of the wolf and the lamb ; only my man looked more like a cat than a wolf. " You mean that you wish to pick a quarrel with me ; that is what you mean," said I, warmly. " Take it as you please," retorted he ; " hut I must have that satisfaction which men of honor give each other. We are not at college now." The word " college" was a revelation to me. Why, it was Anastasius, no other than Anastasius, covered with gold lace, and looking fierce ! How was it that I had not at once recog- nised him ? All my anger vanished at the discovery. Really, the idea of fighting my ex-tyrant had soiiething ludicrous in it. 294 LOEENZO BENONI. " It is you then," said I, with unfeigned surprise ; " how extremely hot you are grown." "No nonsense !" interrupted Anastasius ; " please to name your time." " Faith, I have no time left ; I am off to-morrow at seven on pressing business." " Am I to understand by this that you refuse me satisfac- tion ?" " Understand what you please," said I ; " the fact is, that I set off to-morrow morning for Turin, and I can not be here .and there at the same time." " D — '— me if I don't horsewhip you in the street some day!" " D me if I don't kill you like a dog if you dare !" With this gracious leave-taking we separated, and I went home to bed. That the provocation I had just received was at Lilla's in- stigation — the realization of her threat — that Anastasius was but an unconscious tool in the vindictive lady's hand, was too evident to admit of a doubt. Anastasius was not naturally a lion ; he knew too well that I was a match for him, to have sought to provoke a quarrel with me on such an idle pretext, unless worked up to do so by some foreign influence. Would he persist 1 That remained to be seen. At all events, I was not sorry to have been able to take advantage of the fact of my departure, to give him a little time to cool. I had never reflected deeply on the subject of duelling. All I can say is, that I had no objection to the practice. I con- sidered it as an unpleasant extremity, not to be had recourse to without strong and serious motives, just like the drawing of a tooth ; still, in some cases justifiable, and even necessary. What made me wish to avoid a hostile meeting with Anasta- sius, was the non-existence of any sufficient cause for it. I could not even work myself up to be angry with that fool, and could as little reconcile myself to the chance of killing a fellow- creature, or being killed by him in cool blood. Anastasius had never forgiven me for the part I had taken in his downfall and disgrace at college. Since then we had THE GAKDE DU OOKPS. 295 never met in the street or in a public place (in company wo never met) without exchanging looks but little friendly. La- ter, some three or four years after leaving college, I had heard it publicly rumored that he had lost a considerable sum at the gaming-table, which not being able to pay, he had gone abroad and scandal whispered that he had followed the fortunes of an opera-dancer. Be this as it may, I had heard nothing more of him since then, either of good or evil report, till this very evening, full five years after his disappearance, when, quite unexpectedly, I met him at the opera, transformed into a, garde du corps. The reader may see that his boyish ill-will toward me had had time enough to subside. The garde du carps was composed of tall, young, handsome fellows, of good family (how that ape Anastasius had been admitted among them, I can not guess), who had the privilege of keeping guard about the royal person, and in the royal apartments. As a corps, they did not enjoy the very best moral reputation, and there were fathers and husbands who had the bad taste not to allow their wives and daughters to frequent the society to which these privileged officers were admitted. But, by way of compensation, they were said to be the pets of usui-ers and money-lenders. That they were quarrelsome, fond of fighting, and not a little impertinent to- ward the peaceful burghers, was an opinion generally current, and unfortunately founded on fact. My stay in Turin was short. A fortnight sufficed to accom- plish in the most satisfactory manner the double object of my journey thither. I had succeeded in settling all differences between the members of the committee, and I brought back with me a letter of introduction to a young artillery officer, then quartered at Genoa, who would prove indeed a valuable acquisition, if only one half of the praise I had heard of him was deserved. I returned, therefore, in high spirits, which, however, were soon damped. OiBsar took me almost immediately aside, and asked me, with a certain solemnity, to tell him what had passed between Anastasius and myself. I told him. Gsesar then informed me how Anastasius went about saying on all hands, that he had 296 LOEENZO BENONI. challenged me, and I had refused ; in short, that I had shown the white feather. In one way or another, it was quite neces' sary to put a stop to the report, and to the braggart's boastings. Sforza and the prince would give me more minute details ; they were to come and see me the very evening of my arrival to talk the matter over. In fact they did come, and the prince related all the par- ticulgjTS of a conversation about me which had taken place at Count Alberto's, in his presence, and the account of which made my blood boil. Anastasius had related what passed between us a fortnight before — embellishing the theme with jokes, which occasioned much laughter at my expense, espe- cially on the part of Count Alberto's sister — and had ended by saying that, to infuse a little spirit into me, he was deter- mined to horsewhip me in public. The prince of course took up my cause with much warmth, and if Count Alberto had not interfered, observing, that it was necessary to await my return, things would have gone further between Anastasius and the prince. At all events, he was fully determined, he said, upon pursuing the affair on his own account, if I had any motives, which he was not aware of, for not taking it up myself. While the prince was speaking, I had already made tip my mind as to what was to be done. I had instantly felt that all thoughts of conciliation must be relinquished, and that if I did not quickly bow to public opinion on such a matter, I should at once lose the estimation and influence I possessed among my friends. " Would Sforza and the prince be my seconds ]" — "Of course they would." — "Well, then, they must be so good as to go instantly to Anastasius, and tell him from me, that I had returned, and was quite at his service. As to the conditions of the meeting — the place, the hour, and all par- ticulars — I put myself entirely in their hands, and gave them earte hlanche." Anastasius was not to be found till next morning, and the day was far advanced before all preliminaries were settled. Sforza and the prince brought me word that the meeting was arranged for the following morning at five o'clock. Lest any of us should oversleep ourselves they proposed to spend the A SOLILOQUY. 297 night in my room ; a proposal to which I readily assented, only regretting the scantiness of the accommodation I could offer, The prince went to fetch a case of pistols, they being the weapons which had been agreed upon. On his return about ten o'clock, we had a little supper, a little talk, and a cigar. At twelve o'clock, Caesar had retired to his room ; my two seconds were snoring most comfortably, the prince on a sofa, and Sforza in an arm-chair ; and I was in bed soliloqui- zing. " How strange that this Anastasius, who had cost me many a sleepless night when a boy, should start up now after the lapse of ten years, and again interfere with my rest ! — that a being morally inferior to me, as he was, could have any sort of influence over my destiny ! " Again, how odd that any man's honor should be at the mercy of the first passer-by ; that any chance individual could impeach it, leaving no alternative but to redeem it by fight' ing ! That a scoundrel, a bankrupt, a maniac — such things have been — who might take it into his head to do so, could tear you from your affections, your pursuits, even from the guidance of your own moral sense, and force you to kill or to be killed ! " Suppose I had spoken to Anastasius thus : ' My honor, thank God ! is not dependent upon what a blackguard like you may say or think about it, consequently I do not see why I should fight in defence of that which is not in jeopardy. If. you are tired of life, it is not for me to help you out of it, go and hang yourself!' Now, would there not have been some sense in this, and some courage also 1 So much, indeed, that I dared not do it. Nay, if I had said so, and acted accord- ingly, what a unanimous storm of hisses would my sense and courage have raised ! Those very young men, who were at that moment snoring beside me, and who truly loved me, would have looked upon me as a madman, or as a degraded being. Surely man's brain is at times a curiously-reasoning apparatus !" I kept thus soliloquizing till at last I fell asleep. I was dreaming that I stood face to face with my adversary, ready to 13* 298 LOEKNZO BENONI. fire, and that yet, in spite of all my efforts, I could not get my hand to pull the trigger, when the prince awoke me. I found that my right arm, upon which the weight of my body had been resting, was asleep. In a few minutes we were dressed, and sallied forth. Cassar came out with us, but left us at the corner of the street, to go in search of a young surgeon, one of our friends, with whom he had made an appointment, and who was to remain at a little distance from the ground, to give assistance if required. It was a calm, serene, lovely morning. When we came upon the bridge of Oarignano, the first rays of the sun just tinged the summits of the Apennines, which spread their gracefully indented line in bright relief against the eastern sky. Some fishing boats were gliding along the sea below, which was calm and shining as a mirror. A few trees on the left of the church, in front of which we halted, swarmed with merry birds, hopping to and fro, and chirping joyously. Presently we saw three persons cross the bridge, and come toward us. It was- Anastasius and his seconds, two of his brother officers. Shortly afterward we could hear the rattle of their spurs against the sounding flagstones. Anastasius had a braggadocio air about him which we heartily enjoyed. He was majestically wrapped in a cloak, though there was no need for it, his foraging cap was cocked on one side, and his mus- taches had a knowing twist. He and his companions had long cigars in their mouths. A little to the left of the church opened a narrow lane, soli- tary at all times, but especially at so early an hour. We went a little way into it, and then stopped. The ground was soon measured, his place assigned to each of the combatants, and we only awaited the signal. I could not help thinking of the duel of a less dangerous kind I had fought with the prince — backed by Anastasius — just ten years before; and how odd it was that the actors in that childish drama should have their parts, though differently distributed, in this new and more serious one. The signal was given, and the two pistols were discharged. At the same instant I felt a blow on my side. " D the A DUEL — A FLESH-WOUND. 299 rascal, he has hit him !" cried the prince, passing his arm round my body to support me. In fact, I bled copiously, and felt faint. In a few seconds all the company were assembled round me, including the surgeon, and Osesar, who looked so pale that my first thought was to address some words of comfort to him. They laid me gently on the ground, while the «iedical man examined the wound. "It was nothing," he said, "a mere flesh-wound, but somebody must run for a sedan-chair, as walking was out of the question for me." Sforza went to fetch the chair, a usual conveyance at Genoa, and in the meantime the surgeon applied bandages dipped in water to stop the bleeding, while the prince, as directed, wetted my temples and my lips with eau de Cologne. I ob- served that the prince then took Anastasius and his companions aside, and I supposed that he urged them to retire, which they did soon afterward. I saw that Anastasius was dread- fully pale. The sedan-chair having been brought, I was carried home in it, and, to avoid attracting attention, accom- panied by Csesar only. Sforza, the prince, and the surgeon, had preceded us, and waited at the street door to carry me up stairs and put me to bed. Being scarcely six o'clock, nobody in the house was up, and we were able to steal in unawares, owing to a precaution of Osesar's, who had taken a pass-key with him. The surgeon then proceeded to extract the ball. The ope- ration was short and skilfully performed, but so cruelly painful that I fainted. He reiterated his assurance that no vital organ had been injured, but the flesh, he said, was shockingly lacerated. The ball had lodged above the hip, just under the false ribs. Had I stood more sidewise, as is customary in duels with pistols, the wound would most likely have proved fatal. So that I owed my life to my inexperience in such matters. The wound having been dressed I was left alone, according to the directions of the surgeon ; and Csesar went to break the matter as gently as possible to my mother, who was made to believe at first that I had had a fall, and met with an injury, but so slight as to give no cause for uneasiness. The first three days passed favorably ; but on tlie fourth. I 300 LORENZO BENONI. ■was restless and feverish, and the wound gave me great pain. Something went wrong with it, suppuration had commenced, and a second operation became necessary, in order to enlarge the orifice of the wound. I suffered cruelly again, but was much relieved when it was over. There followed other compli- cations, and several ups and downs. How I grumbled and fretted, and how tenderly, good-humoredly, and patiently, my mother, "Uncle John, Caesar, Alfred, and Santina nursed and petted me, it is scarcely possible to say. To make along story short, at the end of three-and-twenty interminable days, I was only allowed to leave my bed for an hour or so. What with loss of blood, the fever, pain, and low diet — I scarcely ate anything, and had no appetite — I was extremely weak, and reduced to a skeleton. Country air was recommended, and, so soon as it could be done with safety, I was put into a sedan- chair, and despatched to San Secondo, where my mother had preceded me to prepare all things for my reception, and where I was to remain till I was perfectly recovered. Before dismissing this matter, I must acquaint the reader with some circumstances connected with it. First, that on the very afternoon of the day in which I was wounded, there came two unknow,n ladies, closely veiled, to inquire after me, the taller of whom evinced symptoms of the greatest agitation. She asked most particularly whether there were any danger, and seemed greatly comforted on being answered in the nega- tive. The reader may give to whom he pleases the credit of this solicitous attention. Secondly : that owing to the length of my illness, Csesar went instead of me to present the letter of introduction I had brought with me from Turin, to the artillery officer to whom it was addressed. He was enchanted with this young man and the reception he met with from him, and a real friendship soon sprung up between them. Thirdly : that though my duel had been a matter of publi- city, and the laws against duelling were very severe, I was neither prosecuted nor troubled in any way for the affair. The government, I suppose, thought me sufficiently punished by the wound I had received. Probablv it was the same reason that AT SAN STCCONDO CONVALESCENCE. 301 made my father spare me any remonstrance on the subject Anastasiiis, who had been on leave, was recalled to Turin, and there the affair ended. The time of my convalescence at San Secondo was perhaps the happiest in my life. I never enjoyed existence itself so much. How sweet to be awakened by the song of birds, to hear the rustling of the leaves against my window, to sit for hours in the sun, and gaze upon the peaceful landscape ! What a new and deep interest there was in each blade of grass — in each drop of dew — in every flower — in the most tiny insect ! With what relish I ate my coffee and toast, and asked for more, until it was positively refused ! What a peculiar charm there was in feeling once more like a child, and being kept in order as such ! How pleasant to have my mother come and offer me her arm for a walk — a very short one to be sure — only to the large chestnut-tree, and no farther ! Then a second walk a little before sunset. Then supper and a siesta on the sofa; and how sweet on awaking to see my moth- er working quietly with her knitting-needles, and to listen to Caesar, to Alfred, or to Uncle John, who came often, relating the news from town ! And then to bed, to awake in the morn- ing refreshed, and enjoy anew the sun, the flowers, the green fields, the walks, and last, but not least, my coffee and my toast. Ah ! what inexhaustible sources of enjoyment has God laid before man, if he would only recognise them, love him, and bo .happy ! 302 LORENZO BENONI. CHAPTER XXXII. MUCH TO HOPE, MUCH TO FEAR SUDDEN ALARM DECEITFUL CALM CATASTROPHE. I COME now to the most painful part of my task. I feel like a belated traveller, who as he passes before a cross erected on •the road-side in memory of some frightful catastrophe, turns his eyes away, and hastens by. So I, in sight df the rock against which struck and perished all the hopes and joys of my life, feel a shudder in my heart, and am fain to hurry on. Months and months had worn away, during which our sub- terranean work had proceeded with giant strides. How, indeed, could it be otherwise with such coadjutors (Alfred included) as I possessed t A bolder, more steadfast, devoted, indefatigable set of fine young fellows than these five were, it would be diffi- cult to imagine. Truth to say, they were admirably seconded by many an intelligent enterprising agent, who had been formed under the guidance, and had caught in full the passion of the leaders. The most delicate commissions, the most dan-^ gerous undertakings were eagerly sought after and contended for. In a word, and to render justice to every one, I must say that devotion and self-sacrifice were the order of the day in all ranks. Surely the hour appointed by Providence for the deliverance of Italy was not yet at hand, since such a com- bination of perseverance, self-denial, intelligence, and activity, in its cause were destined to fail in the attempt ! It must also be allowed that the directing committee at Mar- seilles gave us good assistance. Thanks to their agency, the crews of our merchant-vessels which traded to Marseilles re- turned well indoctrinated and enthusiastic ; and in almost all vriTOKio. 303 tbi3 steamboats that plied along the coast of the Mediterranean we had confidential agents, charged to carry to the diflferent ports along their line, not only letters, but bales of printed political papers, which were thus introduced to be afterward distributed inland. These papers, consisting chiefly of elementary political tracts, written with simplicity, and adapted to the intelligence of the popular classes, were safely and regularly circulated throughout the state by means of our travellers, or through coach and carriers' offices, in most of which we had adherents ; and there was no lack of associates ready, and willing to read and explain these little books to those who were not them- selves able to read or understand them. This kind of oral propagandism was our friend Lazzarino's forte. But it ivas specially in a line hitherto unexplored — I mean in the anny — that the progress of the association was most marked. Vittorio, the young artillery officer to whom Caesar during my illness had presented the letter of introduction, had proved an inestimably precious acquisition. He was a young man of two and twenty, strikingly handsome. * No man ever realized in my eyes, as he did, the type of a hero, both in Lody and in mind. He was taller by a head than the tallest of us, and erect as a tower, and though a youthful down barely shaded his lip, his broad chest and shoulders bespoke the full development of manhood ; yet so finely and harmoniously was he proportioned, that he did not strike you as being much above the ordinary size. The lines of his spacious forehead, and of his whole countenance were of that pure cast that we so much admire in ancient Grecian statues ; and his every motion and gesture bore that stamp of nobility and easy elegance with which Nature endows her most favored children. When looking at him in his simple but handsome uniform, leaning on his long sword, I could not help thinking of Achilles. The inward was in keeping with the outward man. Vittorio had an ardent spirit, enthusiastic'ally devoted to all that is good and noble, a mild and affectionate disposition, and un- common capacity and activity. He was a fervent Christian, 30i LOEENZO BENONI. and as such his ideal of perfection was to realize and estahlish on earth those principles of equality and fraternity proclaimed in the New Testament. Such a man, it will be readily conceived, could not do things r.j halves. He first of all secured the cooperation of two of his comrades and friends — his staff", as he jocularly called them — and then went to work in right earnest. The success he met with exceeded his most sanguine expectations, and in a short time he was at the head of a respectable number of adepts. We were thus secure of access to the arsenal, and of finding there not only the arms which we wanted, but a body of men ready to join and march with us. From the artillery, to wiiich it had been at first confined, the work of propagandism soon spread to the other military corps of the town. There could be no lack of elements of dissatisfaction in an army aristocratically constituted as ours was (though by the law of conscription service was obligatory on all classes), and in many corps of which merit was precluded from all advance- ment, if unaccompanied by pedigree or title. Now this was the case with nine tenths of the numerous and well-instructed class of non-commissioned officers. Let us add, with honest pride, the Piedmontese uniform covered many a brave heart, that beat high and fast at the words "Italy" and "National Independence." Such was the state of our affairs in the beginning of the month of February, 1833 — just fourteen months from the first establishment of the new association — a state full of hope, but also full of danger. Those who talk of secret societies so managed as to render detection impossible, talk nonsense. Undiscoverable secret societies have no existence but in the fancy of some over- credulous people. They are like those armies that exist only on paper, and run no chance of ever being beaten. An asso- ciation comprising a considerable number of members, and which bestirs itself, is a mine ever within an ace of blowing up. In its ranks will be found boasters, zealots, and imprudent ■ spirits, who are in themselves a perpetual daneer: and then DANGERS. 305 sucli is human nature, that even among those associates who may be best disposed to keep within the limits of prudence, impunity in the long run will generate a sort of false security, which leads to ruin. Conspirators may be likened to those who work with inflammable materials. At first they surround themselves with every possible precaution ; but soon, and by insensible gradations, a trifle to-day, another to-morrow, and so on, is neglected or overlooked, till they become familiarized with danger; and, seeing that the inflammable materials have not yet exploded; they end by feeling as if they never would. Beside these sources of danger common to all secret asso- ciations, and constantly threatening their existence, ours had some causes of peril peculiar to itself, which increased its chances of detection; such as — to mention only the most prominent — the spreading of the sect among the military, in whose ranks a system of espionage was organized on a great scale, and the regular and constant dissemination of printed political papers. The usefulness" of this sort of propaganda was incontestably great, but its fl^ngers were, to say the least, in an equal ratio with its usefulness. The simultaneous appearance, at all points of the kingdom, of publications exciting to discontent, clearly indicated the existence of a permanent conspiracy, and was a continual challenge to the government. Vittorio was foremost in raising a warning voice as to the danger of this state of things, as well as to the positive neces- sity of prompt action. To such a degree had he pushed the work in the corps to which he belonged, that, according to him, discovery was inevitable if we still delayed. " If we do not apply the match," he would say, " others will blow us up with our own mine." We felt no less than Vittorio the preca- riousness'of our situation, but we felt at the same time the great responsibility attaching to a premature movement, which might remain isolated, and so be the ruin of everything. We were in a state of the utmost perplexity. For an Italian insun-ection to have any chance of success, it was indispensable that measures should be so combined as to 306 LOEENZO BENONI. divide the force of Austria. In pursuance of this object, the plan of the directing committee was, that the rising should he simultaneous in the two Sicilies and Piedmont. Unfortunately Naples was not yet ready, and required a little more time. In Piedmont itself, at least in several of the important points in the kingdom, the work was not so far. advanced as in the Genoese territory, properly so called. All that we could do under these circumstances, and this we did, was to lay before our friends at Marseilles a faithful account of the state of affairs with us, and of the perils attend- ing further delay. At the same time we sent Alfred and Sforza into Piedmont, with positive instructions to communicate per- sonally with the provincial committees, and with the propa- gandist leaders of the most important secondary towns, to lay before them the two following questions ; " Are you ready ?" " If not, when do you expect to be so V and to bring back categorical answers. Although the two travellers, in order to save time, divided the business between them, their tour occupied the greater part of the month of Pebruarj^ ; and the result, I aia sorry to say, fell short of our expectation. Positive answers to our two queries were in great minority. Most of the committees and leaders, when brought to the point, had in an indefinite way asked for time. Situated as we were, it was impossible for us to remain in this state of uncertainty. We requested, therefore, and easily obtained from the directing committee, a circular convoking a general assembly of delegates of the asso^siation. This meet- ing was to be held at Locarno, a Swiss town on the Lago Maggiore, on the tenth day of the approaching March ; but some difficulties of detail put it off till the last week of the month. Csesar on this occasion was to represent the committee of Genoa. The delegates assembled in numbers at the place and time appointed. Not a single representative of the large towns was missing, and some cities had even sent several. Of the minor towns, about a fourth had failed. There were also some delegates from Lombardy, and some Lombard and Piedmont- DOUBTS AND DELAYS. 307 ese refugees. The assembly chose for its president one of the riedmontese refugees of 1821, a very old and influential man, and held two sittings, in which three ^[uestions were dis- cussed : — 1st. The proposal of immediate action, which was thrown out by a great majority. 2d. The proposal of an indefinite adjournment, which was negatived by an inconsiderable majority. And 3dly, and lastly, the proposal of an adjournment of two months from that time, which was carried by a majority of four or five votes. The movement was then fixed on, nem,. con., for the first days of the following June. Offisar returned, and gave us an account of his mission. "When he named the month of Jvme, Vittorio, who was pres- ent, started and said : " We shall never go on to that time ; we shall die of a plethora before it arrives. As to me, come what may, they shall not take me alive ; on that I am deter- mined." It was not long before events seemed to confirm Vittorio's sad forebodings. A few days afterward, he came to us in great agitation. " Did I not tell you so 1" said he ; " two of my men are arrested. We must act now, or we are lost !" We were stunned by this intelligence. To be wrecked in sight of port was cruel indeed. On inquiring further into the particulars of the case, however, we found, to our indescribable relief, that it was not so bad as Vittorio's alarm portended. The fact was simply this : two sergeants, one of whom be- longed to our association, being probably excited by drink, had quarrelled and fought, and had been sent to prison. Vit- torio took occasion from this to press upon us the expediency of immediate action. " If you still delay," said he, " you will be taken one by one. A conspiracy, once tampered with, is lost. Machiavelli himself says so." Now, the case, even as stated by Vittorio, did not seem to justify our resorting to so extreme a remedy as that which he proposed. Too many interests, we observed, and of too im- portant a nature, were involved, to hazard them on a random cast without inevitable necessity. Now, did this necessity 308 LOEENZO BENONI. eiist ? It was far from proved that politics hail anything to do with the arrest of the two sergeants. At all events, it was not rational to come to a precipitate decision, before having ascertained the extent of the danger that threatened our asso- ciation. We would make inquiries in some quarter which might be relied on, and, according to the result, determine or not on any ulterior measures. Among the many letters of introduction sent us by Fantasio through Lazzarino, there was one from Nasi to a friend of his, an old Freemason and Carbonaro — a sure man, as Nasi styled him. This gentleman, of about sixty years of age, held an important office in the police department. He had, when first applied to by me, flatly refused to make part of our associa- tion, but volunteered his services just as if he were one of us ; on the condition, however, that I alone of all the sect should know this, or have any communication with him. To this I openly objected, that Caesar already knew all about Nasi's let- ter, and of my visit to him, and that I could not keep back from my brother the result of my present application. The old man was so well pleased with my frankness, that he" de- clared himself satisfied that Csesar also should know of his participation in our affairs ; but no one else. From that time, Caesar and I had maintained regular intercourse with our new friend, and jreceived from him many a useful hint and direc- tion. To him, then, we immediately repaired, and told him the long and short of the matter, with the fears to which it gave rise. Personally acquainted as he was^with all the police officials, high and low — on intimate ternjs with the director of police himself — nobody, we said, was better situated than he to extricate us from our present perplexity ; nobody could better ascertain the real state of things. It was easy for him to observe whether there was any unusual movement in the police department; whether those employed in it betrayed any symptom of alarm, disquiet, or preoccupation ; or whether there was any show of affected security among them. We charged him to take note of every, the most trifling circum- stance ; to study countenances, to interpret the very silence ; FALSE SECUKITY. 309 even to put liimself into the frame of mind of one who was distrusted, and whom, perhaps, the other police officials might have an interest in lulling into confidence, or imposing upon. In short, we urged the matter with all the warmth and ear- nestness which the gravity of our situation suggested. The good old gentleman as warmly and earnestly expressed his readiness to carry through a strict and most minute investi- gation of the subject, and to report the result as soon as pos- sible. Nor was this the only step we took. In the afternoon of this same daj^, a few hours after receiving Vittorio's alarming communication, and even hefore pur meeting with Nasi's friend, which took place in the evening, the prince was despatched post-haste to Turin, to apprize oux friends there of the new face affairs had assumed, and to secure, if need were, the co- operation of the capital without delay. We volunteered to take the initiative, but on condition that Turin should follow our example. The salvation of the association depended upon this. Three long days passed. By appointment, on the morning of the fourth, we met our friend in the police. The account he gave us was most reassuring. Everything was going on just as usual in the police department. Not a single official evinced the slightest sign of uneasiness or excitement. The affair of the two sergeants was scarcely spoken of. It was looked upon merely as a pothouse quarrel. Once more we breathed freely. The next day the prince returned with the intelligence that our friends in Turin positively refused to move at present. They did not lack the will, but the power to do so. The regi- ment on which they most relied had just been replaced by another. Nobody, they- said, could foresee the moral effect on the capital of a successful insurrection in Genoa. Should any lucky chance offer, they would grasp at it ; but, while things remained as they were, they could by no means engage to join a premature movement. How we rejoiced, on hearing this, that we had done nothing precipitately ! 310 LOKICKZO BENONI. Things went on quietly for some weeks, and we had gradu- ally subsided into a state of comparative tranquillity, when one night, toward tw.elve o'clock, we heard a violent ringing at the door. Who could it he at so late an hour? Not proba- bly a bearer of good news ; but that our personal safety could be in danger, not even the shadow of a suspicion crossed our minds. Nobody was up in the house but Osesar and I, so we went and opened the door. In came a body of carabineers, headed by a commissary of police, who exhibited a waiTant to secure the person of Caesar Benoni, and search his papers. What a thunderbolt ! The household was soon assembled, and the examination of the papers began ; very long and minute it was, and conducted in a spirit of annoyance and hostility quite remarkable ; but, perhaps, only what might be expected, considering that the man who directed the business owed a debt of gi-atitude to the family, from whom he had formerly received many benefits, nay, had been literally rescued from starvation. Some of the papers were taken away. A last farewell, a squeeze of the hand, and Osesar was marched oflf ! That my brother's capture was not an isolated fact, that it formed part of a whole set of measures of the same description, my heart told me but too truly. " If only Vittorio is safe, all may yet be well." This thought haunted me, and I kept mut- tering to myself, " If only Vittorio is safe !" I comforted my mother as well as I could, and by break of day went out, first to Alfred — he, thank God, was safe in bed. A few words of explanation, and we hun-ied away to Sforza. Poor Sforza i he had already been seized. The prince was safe. Adriauo Stella we knew to be at Leghorn. We then took our way to the arsenal, where Vittorio and his friends had their quarters. Some.of the artillery, headed by a sergeant, were posting a cannon at the gate of the arsenal. The sentry refused us entrance. We pleaded that we came to see an officer, but the man had orders, and stuck to them. We were just going to retire, when the sergeant, whom I knew, came up to me, and whispered hurriedly, " Make off, make off, for God's sake! many of our men have been an-ested !" — he LOST PAST K15DEMPTI0N. 311 named some, among whom were Vittorio's two intimate asso- ciates, " and we are all confined to quarters." " And Vittorio V faltered I. " Vittorio has not been seen since yesterday morning, nobody knows what is become of him." My hair stood on end. I received as vivid an impression of Vittorio having been killed while attempting resistance, as if I had seen it with my own eyes. — Vittorio vanished ! our tower of strength gone ! We were lost, indeed, past re- demption. The arrests, chiefly among the military, that had been simultaneously effected during the night, were not many in number, but the choice of individuals on whom they had fallen, had struck the association to the heart. Deprived of Vittorio, the soul of the military conspiracy ; of his two coadjutors, and of some others of our best artillerymen ; with no communication possible with the rest of our friends in the corps, who were strictly watched, and confined to their barracks, we were cut off from the arsenal ; and what could be attempted without arms ? What chance had we against a soldiery inflamed to a pitch of frenzy by reports and tales of blood and murder, as absurd as they were atrocious ? such as a plan for Genoese vespers, of barracks to be fired, and a general massacre of the Piedmontese in them, of bands of galley-slaves to be let loose to do their will on the city : these, and such like statements, which the local authorities had the impudence shortly after to confirm in a public proclamation, were widely circulated by police agents and spies, and found credence. All the guards at the different posts were at the same time doubled, cannon planted on all the important points, troops marshalled in every direction, the forts of Castelletto and San Giorgio prepared to batter down the town at a moment's warning. Our time for action was past beyond recall. What circumstance, or rather, what chain of circumstances, had led to the deplorable consequences we have just related ? We Avill state the facts in a few words. Politics had had no share whatever in the imprisonment of the two sergeants. The government, as we said, was on the watch, but had not the 312 LOKKNZO BENONI. least idea that one of the men in their grasp belonged to that very association they were searching after. The one of the two who had wounded the other pretty seriously, was a step lon-er in rank, a circumstance which aggravated his situation veiy considerably. Being made aware of this in the course of his examinations, he determined to take advantage of a confidential communication which his comrade, in an open- hearted moment had made to him, to establish a claim, if not to impunity, at least to leniency. He deposed therefore, that his companion had formally given him significant hints, con- cerning a secret society, to which he — the wounded companion — belonged, and to which he had offered to get the deponent admitted. I leave the reader to imagine all that was done in consequence of this deposition with the implicated sergeant, to get him to make some disclosures. He was a stout-hearted man, and held out bravely at first, against both promises and threats. An infamous artifice, as old as despotism itself, but one which seldom fails in its efiect on uncultivated minds, was then had recourse to. Forged depositions were read to the man, supposed to be from his most intimate friends, in which they accused him withoul'pity or reserve, and then it was said to him, " See no\v, do men who have so little consideration foi you deserve that you should sacrifice yourself for them?" The poor fellow swallowed the bait, and made a complete con- fession, giving the names of all the persons he knew, and even of some whom he only suspected of belonging to the associa- tion. Among these last was my brother, whom he had seen more than oiice in Vittorio's rooms, and whose name he must have picked up by chance. Imagine a sportsman going out to start a fox, and finding himself suddenly face to face with a bear. The government on this occasion was precisely in such a predicament. They had found more than they had looked for. The army itself, that palladium of the ruling powers, and bulwark of the state, was undermined to an alarming extent ! The men at the head of affairs felt the serious importance of the crisis, and acted accordingly. A plan was conceived and carried into execu- tion with such secresy, that even our friend in the police had MOVEMENTS OF GOVERNMENT. 313 not the slightest scent of it. Care was taken Jiot to alarm the conspirators, or to put them on their guard by any partial measures ; on the contrary, it was so contrived that it should be rumored, both in the coi-ps to which the two sergeants belonged, and through the town, that they would soon be set at liberty. A strict watch was in the meanwhile set upon the parties informed against, and strict note taken of the persons with whom they had intercourse. To this list were added the names of several citizens known for their hostility to the govern- ment, and then at a given time all were seized at one stroke. But this was not all. It was of paramount importance to set the soldiers against the citizens, so as to secure the co- operation of the former. This task was easy enough. The old grudge between the Genoese and Piedmontese was smoul- dering, but not extinguished : it was thought advisable to use every means to rekindle this animosity. By what infernal arts this object was attained, the reader is aware. The association, although stunned, held together courage- ously for a time. But when it came to be known that arrests had taken place in every part of the kingdom ; when impris- onments, far from slackening, became more frec[uent every day ; when rumors were rife on every side of important reve- lations having been obtained from some of the prisoners, (ru- mors in part well-founded, in part purposely exaggerated), distrust crept in among its members, then discouragement, and at last, terror. Some of our friends concealed themselves, some took to flight. Many came to us and asked for means to place themselves in safety. How could we provide for the safety of every one 1 We aided, however, in as far as we could, the escape of the most deeply compromised. We urged upon the rest the necessity of avoiding to draw down by a rash step, the vengeance of the government upon the relations and friends they left behind. We had many losses to deplore in our ranks, it was true ; those whom we might term our officers had been cruelly decimated ; but the bulk of our army was safe, and we must reserve it for better days. We were as much implicated, to say the least, as any of them, and yet we remained at our post. Let them do the same. 14 314 LOEENZO BENONI. Alas ! we had done to the best of our powers to guide the vessel into a safe port; but it was otherwise ordained, the vessel was sinking fast. What more could we do than sink along with it ? This we conceived to be our duty, and we stuck to it. Oh ! what days \)f intense agony were those ! I can not think of them without shuddering, even now. How often did I envy the fate of Osesar ! How often at night, when I laid me down, weary and despairing, did I hope, earnestly hope, that the carabineers would come for me, and end my misery ! I have said above, that the rumors of revelations made by some of the prisoners were well-founded. Alas ! it was but too true ; some of our friends had not been proof against the tortures inflicted upon them. Honor to those who were enabled to resist ! but let us not be too severe upon those who yielded. Let us rather reserve our indignation for that immoral government, whose agents did not hesitate to act the part of inquisitors and torturers toward their fellow- creatures. I shall borrow some details illustrative of this subject from a work already cited.* The unhappy prisoners were systematically weakened by insufficient and unhealthy food. They were startled from their sleep at night by appalling and lugubrious sounds. Voices called out under their windows, " One of your companions has been shot to-day, and to-morrow it will be your turn." When their physical strength had thus been reduced, and their ima- gination wrought upon, they were either suddenly brought up for examination, or a daughter, a sister, or a mother in tears, was admitted. Sometimes two friends were placed in contiguous cells, and permitted to communicate with one another. Several days would elapse, during which certain ill-boding hints would be dropped to the one whom it was wished to impress, concerning the impending fate of his friend and fellow-prisoner. Shortly afterward the door of the neighboring cell would be noisily * Storia del Piemonte, di A. Brofferio. Parte terza. Capo terzo. MIGLIO AND VOCHIEKI. 315 opcnetl, a sound of steps would be heard, followed by a death- like silence, and presently a discharge of musketry in the court of the prison ! By such means was it that avowals or revelations, often false, were extorted. Francesco Miglio, a sergeant of the pioneers in the regiment of the guards, had eluded by his firmness and presence of mind all the insidious inquisitorial attempts to which he had been subjected. He' was then shut up with a pretended fellow-prisoner, who confided to him with tears his participa- tion in the sect, and the terror he was in. Miglio was struck with pity, and a certain friendship sprang up between him and tlio new-comer. A few days afterward this new friend assured Miglio, that he had a means of correspondence with some of his own relations. Miglio allowed himself to be induced to intrust him with a note for one of his friends. There being no ink, he opened a vein and wrote a few lines in his blood. This scrap of paper was produced against him, and decided his fate. Poor Miglio was shot ! One prisoner condemned at Alexandria, and who survived a long confinement in the fort of Fenestrelle, left in his memoirs the following passage : " First of all, my books were taken from me, viz., a bible, a collection of prayers, and the history of the celebrated capuchins of Piedmont. They then put a chain round my ankle, and I was led into a cell still darker, damper, and more sq[ualid than the .one I had hitherto occu- pied, with a double-barred window, and a door with a double lock. Opposite to this was the cell of the unfortunate Vochieri, another political prisoner. As his door was left open, I could see through a chink in mine what went on there. Vochieri was seated upon a wooden stool, with a heavy chain round his ankle, and two guards, one on each side, with drawn swords ; a third, with his firelock, was stationed before the door. The profound silence kept was painful. The soldiers seemed in greater consternation than the prisoner himself. From time to time an old capuchin came to visit him. Thus did this unfortunate man pass a whole week. His dying agonies were indeed long and frightful. At last he was led to execution. 316 LORENZO BENONI. General Gralateri, the governor of Alexandria, persisted up to the last moment, in efforts to obtain revelations from him, holding out the lure of a possible pardon. " Deliver me from your odious presence," answered Vochieri ; " this is the only favor I request." The enraged governor gave him a violent kick in his belly. Vochieri, bound as he was, spit in his face. Through a refinement of cruelty almost incredible, he was made to pass on his way to exedution under the windows of his own home, that his wife, his sister, and his two young sons, might witness the heartrending sight. Not soldiers, but guardaciurme, the guards of the galley-slaves, were chosen to shoot him, and the governor, in full uniform, thought fit to be present at the execution, seated on a cannon. But I perceive I am anticipating events. Let us turn our eyes from these horrors, and pray to God that the times in which they could be committed may never more return. FEESH CALAMITIES. 317 CHAPTER XXXIII. NARROW ESCAPE 1 AM PREVAILED UPON TO LOOK TO MY SAFETY. One evening in the beginning of June I was returning home — it could not have been ten o'clock, and yet the streets were nearly empty, the shops all closed, and the dismal loneliness unbroken, save by the frequent challenge of the sentinel, and the measured tread of carabineers patrolling in pairs. I went on with heavy step, and a still heavier heart. Each of the days of the preceding month had brought with it a new load of evil. Fresh imprisonments had taken place in Genoa, Turin, Alexandria, Chambery, Nice, Mondovi, and Ooni. The commission of inquiry appointed by the king had determined that the prisoners should be tried by court-martial. The Prince d'Urbino had had a very narrow escape. Going home a few evenings previously, he had found his house full of carabineers, sent to arrest him. With gi-eat presence of mind he re-closed the door, thus shutting them in, and made with all speed for the port ; finding himself, however, hotly pursued, he leaped into the sea, and swam out to an English vessel lying at anchor. Another of our friends when about to be seized swallowed poison, and left only a corpse to be carried away. Lost in the sad thoughts suggested by these gloomy events, I took the turning that led into the street of San Luca, one of the narrowest and busiest of the town during the day, but solitary enough at night, intending to pass by Banchi. During the last few minutes I had heard a step behind me, but paid no attention to it until the pertinacity of my follower, 318 LORENZO BENONI. in always keeping at the same pace with myself, whether I went fast or slow, began to arouse my suspicion. Anxious to ascertain if there really was some one dogging me, I turned suddenly back; not (juickly enough, however, to overtake or even catch a glimpse of my pursuer, who in the meantime seemed to have vanished. I resumed my walk, now quite on the qui vive, and on reaching the piazza of San Griorgio, I saw a group of people standing there, whom I made out to be four carabineers, with two persons in plain clothes. I no sooner saw these men, than the conviction flashed on me that they were looking out for me ; in short, I felt that my hour had come. Not that I expected to be taken on the spot. As yet there had been no instance of any one being arrested in the open street. What I made sure of was, that these very men would be at our house almost as soon as myself, and with the undoubted purpose of seizing my person. In fact, they did allow me to pass unquestioned and unmolested. If, in the interval between seeing them and reaching home, any transient doubt of their purpose had crossed my mind, the sight of persons standing in every doorway of the street in which we lived — evidently on the watch for something or some one, woiild have dispelled it. The recollection was fresh in my memory, that just such had been the case on the night of my brother Osesar's arrest, and I remembered hearing a neighbor relate, that he had overheard one of the police scouts say to the other, "He's gone in!" and that almost imme- diately afterward the emissaries of the law had crowded into our house. One of those childish whimsical impulses which do sometimes so unaccountably rise and govern men's minds, even on the most solemn occasions, seized upon me at that moment ; and, amid a confusion of painful and exciting thoughts, I must con- fess that the uppermost was, how I could prevent the success of the same manoeuvre a second time. Full of this idea, when I came to my own door, instead of going in, I passed it, and went on to where I knew there was a dark archway, through which I suddenly darted, rushing down first one turning and then another. In the labyrinth NOCTaENAL CHASE A MOTHKr's HEAET. 319 of ill-lighted narro-w streets, that characterize all the ancient cities of Italy, I soon distanced the persons who, upon seeing me pass the house, had begun to pursue me. I heard one step, however, gaining on me, and being by this time too much out of breath to run any farther, I slipped qaiietly into one of the pitch-dark doorways at hand. My pursuers passed close by, but never thought of looking into my hiding-place. I waited patiently until even the faint echo of footsteps had died away, and only then venturing cautiously out, in little more than a minute reached our own house, round which I had described a semicircle, and stole in unperceived. I went at once to my mother's room, for it was my invariable custom to see her before going to bed, and to talk over with her the occurrences of the day. Anxiety and sadness had indeed long usurped the place of the cheerfulness that once used to brighten that hour, but it was nevertheless as dear to us in sorrow as it had been in gladness. How was I to tell my poor mother that even this consolation was to be taken from her ? how prepare her to see another son dragged to prison ? There was no help for it, however, and I must behold her agony. The smile with which she welcomed me very nearly upset all the fortitude I had been striving to gain. I scarcely know what I said, or what passed between us. Who can remember the broken words of such bitter mo- ments ? Every mother's heart at least will understand, and throb with sympathy for the anguish of that hour. Let me say it with filial pride, my mother's character was no common one. Its distinguishing feature was a piety so true, so real, so humble, that she scarcely knew herself to he pious. Hers was a spirit that never flinched before daily self- sacrifice. Such a woman, after the first outburst of agony, would know how to control the evidences of the emotions of a heart as tender as ever beat in woman's breast ; and so indeed she did. Since I had resolved at making no attempt at either con- cealment or flight, she sought, hy lavishing on me all that divine tenderness with which God has gifted a mother's heart, 320 LOEENZO BENONI. to strengthen and console me. All that her too sad experience could suggest for my future comfort, was done q[uiet]y and unobtrusively. I knew that she put into my purse all the little gold that was in the "house, and, mindful even of my habit of smoking, she gave me the requisites for striking a light. Trifles ! but proofs of a mighty self-control in a mother so situated. Vain cares they would be, alas ! for a poor prisoner was allowed no money, no smoking, and everything that could in the least administer to his comfort was pitilessly snatched from him. At her suggestion, I took a crust of bread and a glass of wine, and then we sat down side by side to await the issue. Moments of such intense thought and emotion rarely give birth to outward demonstrations. "We were not left long in suspense. A loud ringing at the door soon startled us. " Courage, my mother !" I exclaimed, clasping her in my arms, " the moment of trial is come !" She broke from my hold, and throwing herself on her knees before a picture of the Madonna and her holy child, which hung from the wall, " Mother of mercy," she cried, with a fervency most touching to witness, " spare me, oh, spare me this one ! but now and ever, the will of God be done !" By the time we reached the hall, my mother had recovered her composure. Old Oaterina, aghast at the sight of the unexpected and unwelcome visiters, crept softly and slowly to our side. Santina, on the contrary, nothing daunted, with fierce distended eyes, and inflated nostrils, stood erect, con- fronting the two commissaries of police, who were a little in advance of four carabineers. I myself, my mother, and my youngest brother, stopped opposite to them ; the dead, threat- ening silence broken only by the unconnected words of prayer which Oaterina kept murmuring. As far as the faint glare of two small brass lamps would allow me to see, the counte- nances of the carabineers and their companions were strikingly pale. Probably some of the former (the latter were both new faces) had, not many nights previously come on a similar er- rand ; and it is only justice to humanity to suppose, that even in hearts hardened by long habit to look on misery unmoved, god's riNGKE. 321 there may have vibrated some chord of sympathy for the ago- nized mother they saw before them for the second time. Be this as it may, we remained for some minutes facing each other in utter silence, like hostile armies awaiting the signal of attack. My father now joined us, evidently much alarmed. I did succeed at last in making him understand, by several expressive gestures, that it was his part to speak. He then addressed the elder of the two civil officers, and demanded to be informed of the reason of this domiciliary visit. Like a ghost, who, it is said, must be spoken to ere it can speak, the commissary advanced a step or two, drew forth a long paper, and began to read as follows : — " By order of his excellency the governor of Genoa, the commissary of police of the second division is desired to pro- ceed to the immediate arrest of the person of Signer Oamillo Benoni, barrister-at-law.'' The half-suppressed cry which involuntarily burst from my mother's lips interrupted the reader, who looked round some- what perplexed. I had already stepped forward, and was about to speak, when the younger of the police-officers passed quickly behind me, and said, in so low and rapid a whisper, that I rather guessed than heard the words, " Tacete, ne va la vita !" — " Hush ! your life is at stake !" One moment before, my situation had been so desperate, that to have entertained a thought or hope of escape, would have been pronounced insanity ; and now, by a lucky chance, or I ought rather to say through the mercy of God, a door of safety was opened to me. My eldest brother's name (I have already mentioned his being also a barrister) had, by some inexplica- ble blunder, been substituted for mine. As he had ever been a stranger to all our plots and conspiracies, though he might be detained in prison till the mistake of names had been veri- fied, no serious danger was to be apprehended for him. This consideration, and my mother's eloquent though "mute entreaties, shut my mouth, and induced me to let matters take their course. My brother's bedroom being at the farthest end of an upper story, he had heard no noise, and was sleeping quiety, when my father, closely followed by two carabineers, 14* 322 LOKENZO BENONI. and the younger of the police-officers, went to him, and de- sired him to get up. In spite of the sharp watch kept over them, my father managed to let him know, in a few hurried words, tlie mistake which, for the present, was to cost him his liberty. Camillo willingly obeyed the summons, gave up all his pa- pers, in which he knew that nothing could be found to incrimi- nate him, and, with a heart lighter than prisoners can usually boast, went off to prison in my stead. I may as well mention here that he remained in confinenent much longer, than we had anticipated. Some months indeed elapsed before he was set at liberty. This incident had fullj'^ awakened my mother to a sense of the dangers which menaced me, and the next morning she spoke to me — oh, so earnestly ! She represented that, still to persist in remaining in Genoa after what had happened, was more than madness ; it was opposing the will of God, who had blinded my enemies to save me ; that what I considered my duty toward my companions in danger and misfortune, ought not to make me entirely overlook what I owed to a mother already more than sufficiently tried, and to the rest of my family. Her arguments, but still more the tears and supplications with which they were seconded, had already, to a certain de- gree, shaken my resolution, when in came Uncle John, who, to my mother's prayers and remonstrances, added his own. He had that morning seen one of his friends, the magistrate of whom I have once before spoken. This gentleman had called on my uncle for the express purpose of informing him that the police had already got scent of the mistake of the pre- ceding evening. If I did not get out of the way without de- lay, I was lost past redemption. Alfred, and a few more friends who had the coiirage to gather round us in this hour of peril, pressed me earnestly to go. " Would the sacrifice of my life," they urged, " in any way benefit or tend to the safety of those for whose sake I considered it my duty to remain ? I had given ample proofs of courage and devotedness to the cause for which we had LILLA. 323 joined together, No shadow of hlame could attach to me if I yielded to the prayers of my mother, and to the wishes of my friends." I was still hesitating, when I was told that a lady desired to see me on pressing business. I gave orders that she should he shown into my little study, and went at once to see who it could he. As I entered the room, the lady took off her veil. It was Lilla, as my heart had already guessed. I could not suppress a hasty exclamation of surprise, not at her unexpected visit, but at the alteration in her looks. She was pale, haggard, emaciated, lo6king ten years older than when I had last seen her. " I hope you will excuse my intrusion," she began in a hur- ried voice, " on account of the motive that brings me. There is no time for either ceremony or reserve. You are to be ar- rested this very evening ; Alberto heard it from the governor's own lips not half .an hour ago. There is no time to lose 1 I have brought my servant with me on purpose. You must change clothes with him, and come home with me. For a short while you will be safe with us." All this had been uttered in a breath. I was going to an- swer, but- she gave me no time. " For God's sake, make no objections, or — Lorenzo ! have mercy on me, for I am in utter despair !" She burst into tears, and sobbed aloud. I took advantage of the moment of calm which followed this passionate outbreak, and said : " Listen to me, Lilla. At the very moment you came, I had almost consented to leave Genoa. The news you bring decides me. I promise you faithfully that before dark this evening I will leave this house. I have thought of a place where I shall be tolerably safe, until I can manage to quit the city altogether. Do not think that I refuse your assistance because it is you who offer it ; believe me, there is no one from whom I would so willingly accept a favor or kindness as from yourself; but what I neither ought to do nor will do is, to run the risk of bringing you or your noble brother into danger or difficulty on my account." 324 lOEENZO UEJSONI. I saw that she was ahout to remonstrate, so I hastily added : "No, no, Lilla — say no more on this subject; do not agitate yourself and me by a useless discussion. I again repeat my promise of seeking some safer abode than this house, and that before dark. My poor, suffering child" — I could not forbear the words, as she turned her piteous, pale face toward me — "spare me a little in your turn : this is a moment of bitter agony to me, to us both ; do not unman me, and make me un- able for the terrible struggle that is before me. Think of my poor mother, Lilla." She bowed her head over her hands : then made me promise to send Alfred to her the next morning, that she might have some tidings of me. " God bless you, Lilla ! For my sake remember my many unfortunate fellow-sufferers ; many need help." By this time I had supported her to the door. She turned to me, while a shudder ran through her whole frame, saying, " Ah, Lorenzo, this is more than a bad dream !" I just caught the sound of — "Farewell, Lorenzo," and she was gone — my poor Lilla! A few hours afterward I left home to take refuge in the house of Santina's eldest sister, who was married to a Genoese, and lived in the populous Quartiere of Pri. To eke out their means, they let some of their spare rooms to work-people and day-laborers, and we considered it as a place in which a new lodger was not likely to attract attention or excite suspicion. It afforded me, besides, the advantage. of a safe- mode of com- munication with my family through Santina, who was in the habit of frequently visiting her sister. I knew that I might depend on the fidelity of the whole family ; an'd I decided, therefore, to remain with them until the necessary measures could be taken for my escape. Of the anguish of the parting hour I shall not say a word. Certainly the human heart is a wonderful piece of workman- ship, to stand such ^hopks without going to pieces. PKEPAKATIONS FOR FLIGHT 325 OHAPTEE XXXIV. AFTER BEING TRIED IN MORE WAYS THAN ONE, THE FUGITIVE EMBARKS FOR THE COAST OP FRANCE. During tte first day of my concealment I received a letter and a purse of gold, both from Lilla. The letter was a long and most touching one, in which she frankly acknowledged all her faults toward me, and prayed for pardon, in token of my granting which she begged me to accept the money which she sent. " It may be of use to you," she wrote, " in the new and precarious situation in which you are about to be placed." I answered this letter in words prompted by my heart — gratefully and affectionately— but I declined the money, al- leging the truth, that my father and Uncle John had supplied me with a sum far beyond my need. I prayed Lilla not to forget my parting recommendation of those of my fellow-suf- ferers who might be in a position to require pecuniary aid. I told her also not to attribute my refusal to pride or resentment ; " I would keep the purse and one of the gold pieces in remem- brance of her." It took three days to find men willing and able to convey me out of the country, even with the certainty of receiving a good round sum for their services. A passport also having been procured under a false name, other minor difficulties being overcome, and the few preparations for my comfort that my perilous situation permitted being concluded, late in the afternoon of the third day, the person who had undertaken to land me safely on the French coast came to me with a bun- dle of sailor's clothes, this being the disguise which had been chosen. 326 LOEENZO BEKONI. He told me it had been agreed upon between himself and his men, that in any danger — whether of discovery or only of suspicion — I was to pass for an English gentleman bent on a fishing-excursion ; to corroborate which assertion suita- ble clothes were to be placed in the boat in which I was to embark. This man, whom, as he commanded our expedition, I shall in future always call the captain, is worthy of a few words of description. He was a tall, sun-burnt, fine-looking fellow, about thirty years of age, with a profusion of black hair and whiskers, and would have been decidedly handsome but for a cast in one eye. His whole person, voice, attitude, and ges- ture, bespoke energy, resolution, and indifference to danger, which, indeed, in his adventurous life — that of a smuggler — he had so often been called on to face, as to have grown some- what reckless and defiant of it. To complete my sketch, I must add that he was never seen without a cigar between his lips. When not lighted, he held it caressingly, as it had been a flower, in the left corner of his mouth, amusing himself by alternate chewing and spitting. I dressed myself, as he directed, in a checked shirt, white trousers, and glazed hat, and hastened back to the room in which I had left him with my host and hostess, and Santina, who had come to see me off. The captain was in a hurry, and my parting words were few. " Thank you, Maria — thank you.Xuigi — God bless you — and good-by, Santina !" I stooped down to embrace her, as I had done the others ; but Santina pushed me violently back, saying, " Do you think you can break a heart, and heal it with a kiss and a ' God bless you V " "Why, what is the matter with you, Santina?" I asked, startled, and only then noticing her wild looks and quiver- ing lip. " You are not ^eally going away, are you 1" For answer, I pointed to my new equipment. " Why need you go 1" she continued in a higher tone ; " can't you stay here? Who will think of looking for you here? We will take care no harm comes to you; and if it comes to LOGIC OF THK HEAHT. 327 the worst, you have committed no crime ; they can do nothing to you." " Oh, nothing but hang him !" aaid the captain, bluntly. Santina started, and then, after a pause, muttered : " Well, let him go, then — let him go; the sooner the better. Go!" she said, turning to me, and she sank upon a stool, staring at the wall with vacant eyes, the very picture of despair. The captain motioned to me to go at once. I felt that time pressed ; still I could not resolve to leave the poor girl without a word of consolation. I was dreadfully perplexed at this un- foreseen difficulty. " Why can't I go with you V said Santina, suddenly jump- ing up, her features brightening; " why can't I go with you?" You can not do without a servant, go where you will ; and suppose you were ill, who is to take care of you, and to nurse you? Oh, do let me go with you !" I had to argue the matter with her, and, in point of logic, very often had the worst of the argument. I pleaded her youth, my youth, the talk of the world, the certain loss of her character. She did not understand, poor soul, how and why being young, and staying with me, could injure her reputation. " Was I not her master ? was she not my servant ? had she not been so for years 1 Well, then, if she did lose her char- acter, she should care very little. Let people think what they liked : where there was no harm, there was no shame. Was it not so ?" Another of my objections was the scantiness of my means. I should have scarcely enough for one ; how, then, provide for two ? Even as I uttered the words, I felt how paltry they .sounded, used as an argument against a warm and disinterested affection like hers. God knows they were dictated by a sense of duty to this innocent, loving heart. Santina had her answer ready. " She wanted no wages ; she could cook, mend my linen, be useful in a hundred ways ; she was sure she should be a saving to me." I spoke to her of my mother. I told her what confidence I had in her affection and devotion to that poor bereaved mother I prayed her not to desert the afflicted woman. 328 LORENZO BENONt. These •words seemed to have some effect upon her. She lis- tened attentively, and without answering. The thought of my mother in her loneliness made her waver. The captain again whispered to me that we must go, or we should miss the men he had hired. Santina looked so calm and collected, that I thought I had better take advantage of the moment, and be gone. A few hurried words, a parting kiss, and I walked toward the door. But before I had reached it, Santina was on the floor in strong convulsions. The long pent-up passion of her nature burst forth with fear- ful intensity. The combined efforts of the four persons pres- ent, three of whom were strong young men, could hardly con- trol the frantic movements of this slender girl. It was frightful to see the clenched teeth, the distorted features, of the poor thing — to see her body writhe and twist,'the veins of her throat and face swelled to bursting; but more frightful to re- member that all this physical suffering arose from a moral cause. Now and then exhausted nature would grant a respite, and then the poor sufferer would bemoan herself in such touching words, that every eye — even those of the captain, though all unused to the mfelting mood — were moist with tears. " Ah me ! ah me !" she said, " what have I done to deserve this great pain ? Madonna Santa ! is it a sin to love one's own master 1 It is not my fault if I can not bear to see him go away. It breaks my heart ; it does indeed. He was such a good master — so gentle! He taught me to read and write ; he was never harsh to me, never scolded me, never so much as frowned upon me. His voice was like music to me. What wonder, then, that I learned to love him ? I must have had no heart! I know that he is a gentleman, and that I am only a poor servant ; but what of that ? Such as I am I can serve and love him. All I ask is, only to see him — yes, to see him every day. That is not much, but it is everything to me !" And in this strain she would go on until the fit again seized her. I profited by the first interval of calmness to take the cap- SOOTHING DEAUGHT. 329 tain aside, and tell him that my leaving the poor creature in this state was out of flie question, but that I would go on the morrow if circumstances would allow me ; that he must have everything in readiness, and call for me again at dusk. He made no objection, and shortly after took his leave. I then ■went to Santina, and told her that I had given up all thoughts for the present of" going away — indeed, of going at any time, unless she gave her consent. The effect of this announcement was instantaneous. Her features, hitherto so contracted by spasms, at once relaxed. She said not a word, but she took my hand, kissed it, and looked up thankfully in my face. The paroxysms having ceased, we made her a little couch with chairs and pillows ; and there she lay with her eyes closed, weeping silently. Once or twice her sister remonstrated with her for crying, but Santina answered : " Let me cry ; it does me good. I shall be more reasonable by-and-by." So she went on weeping and slumbering, ever and anon starting up with the question, " Is he gone ?" but, on hearing my voice, relapsing again into her quiet mood. A little after twelve o'clock, she fell asleep, and slept for nearly two hours. Her sister and her sister's husband had long been fast asleep on a mattress on the floor. When she awoke, she asked what o'clock it was. I told her ; and then she begged me to come to her, and in a whisper that was scarcely audible — she was so worn out, poor young thing! — she said : — " You must go. I should never forgive myself if, on my ac- count " She did not complete the sentence, but a shudder that came over her showed the current of her thoughts. " You mu%t go, and M'ithout any more delay. Promise me that you will." I promised. '' I know you will forgive me for having been so foolish, and you will pardon, too, all the trouble I have given you ; indeed, I could not help it — I knew not what I was doing. As for your dear mother, do not be uneasy. I will stay with her, and will do for her all that I would do for yourself. God for ever bless you for all your kindness to me. Now, go and take some rest." 330' LOEENZO BENONI. I said I felt no inclination to sleep, and would rather remain with her ; but she insisted, and I went &way to my own little room. It was long before I could close my eyes. When I got up in the morning at seven o'clock, Santina was gone — had been gone for hours : she had walked home, accompanied by her sister and brother-in-law. " She was still weak," they said, "but calm." Gentle, devoted, self-controlling Santina? May God tem- per the wind to thee, poor shorn lamb ! ' At dusk the captain reappeared, and, leaving the house arm-in-arm, we soon reached " SottoiSpa." This species of tunnel, into which light is admitted only through loopholes small and far between, is dismal and gloomy enough even at mid- day, but, at the hour at which we entered, it was pitch-dark. We were groping our way along, quickly enough, when we stumbled against a figure standing in the middle of our path. " Whoever you may be, get out of the way !" growled the captain. " It is I !" exclaimed a voice well known to me. " You, Alfred 1" I excla'med ; " how kind of you !" " Yes, it is I," he whispered ; " but I am not alone." At the same time, I felt two small, cold hands seeking mine, and a voice, inarticulate with sobs, that came from the level of my knees, and went straight to my heart, murmured, " Oh, say that you forgive me ! say that you forgive me !" " I do forgive you, and with all my heart," whispered I, raising her gently, and pressing her to my bosom. It was Lilla. "God bless you, my child, as I bless you from my soul !" and as I said so, I parted her ringlets, and kissed her forehead. It was the first kiss I had ever given her. The captain began to show visible symptoms of impatience j he urged me forward, and we passed on. By the time we reached Ponte Eeale, it was quite dusk. To get to the place of embarkation we had to pass through a narrow wicket, close to a customhouse officer, and to do this it was necessary to step over a high board. Preoccupied and THE KEVriNUK-CUTTKE. 331 anxious as I was, I did not observe this obstacle, and conse- qtxently stumbled over it. "A bad omen, sir!" exclaimed the ofEcer, little suspecting how laden with sad meaning his words sounded in the ear of the fugitive. ' Somewhat vexed, but now thoroughly roused from my torpor, T hastened after the captain, who, just as we were stepping into the small boat that was waiting for us, whispered to me, " Always speak Italian, never Genoese." These words seemed to imply such a want of confidence in his crew, that they made an unfortunately sinister impression on me ; and I set out, not only much depressed, but tormented by a new and vague suspicion. The wide expanse of the port and all that part of the city which crowds round its vast semicircle lay hid in deep shade, but the high towers of Oarignano and the ramparts of Santa Chiara rose vividly before me, bathed in the warm and glori- ous light of an Italian moon. I fixed my eyes on these famil- iar objects with the intense gaze and all the feelings of a man who was to look on them no more. The boat had been provided with fishing-tackle, to give a color of truth to the story of my pretended whim for a fishing- excursion. Outside the port a larger and faster boat was to meet us, furnished with provisions for our voyage to France. By some blunder or accident the boat was not waiting for us ; and, in this unforeseen dilemma, we had no better alter- native than to keep tacking, in the hope that it might soon make its appearance. Unfortunately our manoeuvres attracted th§ attention of the guarda-costa or revenue-cutter, always on the lookout for smugglers, and I was not a little alarmed at seeing her bear down upon us. When sufiiciently near,, the officer on duty ordered us to lie to, and sent some of the cus- tomhouse men, armed with enormous trombones, on board of us. They searched each hole and corner, overhauling every- thing they could lay their hands on ; but finding nothing to warrant their detaining us, they returned to the cutter, leaving us free to follow our own course. The boat, however, without which it was impossible to carry through our project, was nowhere to be seen, and the captain 332 LOEENZO BENONI. was consulting ■with me as to what was to be done in this emergency, when, lo and behold, our customhouse enemy again appeared close to us. In spite of the visit and examination to which we had already been, subjected, the revenue oflScer, who had recog- nised in the captain a notorious smuggler, could not divesi himself of suspicions, excited by our unaccountable manoeu- vres, and acting on the strength of these doubts, he commanded us, in terms that admitted of neither reply nor delay, to return to shore. In the short interval that occurred, the captain did his best to keep up my courage, protesting that there was no danger if I would trust entirely to his management, and remain silent and passive ; which my character as a stranger, almost alto- gether ignorant of the language of the country, authorized and rendered natural. Not to speak was easy enough, bixt to pre- vent my countenance from betraying the feelings that agitated me, was a sufficiently difficult task. Fortunately I was not required to appear, and could remain in the boat with the man and boy, who for the present constituted our crew. The captain went alone to the inspecting officer ; and we were so near the shore that I could hear my friend expostu- lating, remonstrating, and explaining with a bold volubility that began to reanimate my hope of escape. It was on this occasion that I iirst discovered the captain's peculiar talent for swearing ; indeed, in the course of our further acquaint- ance, I found that he could not say four successive words on any subject — love, war, or commerce — without interlarding them with oaths, that would have been ridiculous if they had not been frightful. In this case his peculiar eloquence succeeded, for he returned to us with the news that we were at liberty to pursue our course. The two circumstances — first, that of the non-appear- ance of the larger boat, and, secondly, our compulsory return to land, had evidently determined the captain to make some change in his plans ; so at least I judged from the whispering that took place between him and the man he had left in the boat with me, who immediately afterward leaped on shore, and ON THE BEACH. 333 was soon out of sight. The boy was desired to row us to the landing-place of the lanterna or lighthouse. When we got there the captain told me we had better walk to San Pier d'Arena, a large suburb of Genoa, about half a mile from where we then were. I made no remark, nor did I ever ask for any explanation. My mind was in that state which made me feel it a relief to be treated as if I were a machine or bale of goods. "We walked on in silence to San Pier d'Arena, and when the captain sat down on the beach, I followed his example with the same lethargic resignation I had shown and felt as to everything since leaving Genoa. Thick-coming thoughts coursed through my brain, graven still on my memory, but incapable of being rendered into words, like the multitude of faces one sees pass- ing in a crowd, or peopling our dreams, distinctly present to our inward sense, but which, when we attempt to delineate them for others, elude our grasp as shadows which a child seeks to catch. Home, country, friends, all so dear and yet BO distant ! The soil that I trode once more, and which I thought I had left for ever, burned my feet. There was no repose, no rest for me, as I lay stretched on the bosom of my native land ; there was only a voice of wo echoing through my soul, like the wind as it sighs and wails through the forest on its errand of desolation. From this sad and bitter state I was roused by the captain, who pointed out to me the little boat we had left at the lan- terna, close, into the beach in front of us, with a person stand- ing up in it making signals to us. " There is no time to lose L!i said he. We both ran as fast as w6 could, and stepped in ; the captain himself taking a pair of oars we were soon along- side of the cutter, which had so disappointed us, and, leaping on board, at length set out for our destined port in France. In spite of all these delays and interruptions it was not much past eleven o'clock when we left San Pier d'Arena. The night was so calm, that there was scarce a ripple on the sea ; it was therefore of no use to set the sails, and the men continued to row, keeping very close to the shore. Toward dawn we began to feel the breeze coming up ; the sails were 334 LORENZO BKNONI. hoisted, and very soon I became sensible of the accelerated motion of the boat. The moon had shone brightly through- out the night, and the tall column of the lanterna, hitherto distinctly visible to me, now gradually faded from before my eyes, which strained to see it long after it had quite vanished from sight. It was then that I felt in its full entireness that I was a fugitive. So long as I saw that well-known object, I certainly had not realized the idea that I was absolutely and utterly without either home or country ; that perhaps I should never again behold my mother's face. Till one has experienced it, one knows not all the consoling power of association that lies in familiar inanimate objects. When I lost sight of the lanterna, it was as if I had again been torn from the arms of those so dear to me, and a host of recollections crowded round me of past happy days, days of youth, of joy, of hope, such as could never more return for the exiled man. The die was cast ; I was proscribed, a wan- derer on the wide world ; nay, my very life and liberty were no longer in my own power, they were in the hands of the men before me. As this thought crossed me, I turned to observe them more narrowly than I had yet done. Beside the captain, there were two men and the boy I have already mentioned. Only one of these persons made any unpleasant impression on me ; the boy and one of the men had insignificant commonplace coun- tenances, but the other was not one to be overlooked, even in a crowd. He was on the foremost thwart, and consequently directly opposite and very near to me. Who has not at one period or other of his life, felt a serious and unaccountable discomfort in the presence of a person seen for the first time? — a discomfort felt before one has had time for even the most rapid analysis of physiognomy or manner 1 Who does not understand those instinctive repugnances, car- ried sometimes so far that our mental faculties are paralyzed if we are compelled to remain long in the society of certain individuals, though we avoid either intercourse or contact with them? This was my case, when, awaking from the thoughts that SPALATUO. 335 had till then absorbed me, I began to examine my companions, and my eyes fell on this man. His low, retiring forehead, his bi'istling red hair, his mouth, on which a continual sneer seemed chiselled, brought back to my recollection a bravo in one of Mrs. Radcliffe's romances, "The Black Confessional," the de- light of my boj-hood. The name of this bravo was Spalatro, and I at once baptized the man before me by that name. From the expression of his cruel eye as it met mine, I am sure that my instinctive feeling of antipathy was more than fully returned. After that first glance, he always avoided look- ing at me, except when he thought I was otherwise engaged. We had sailed on for some time in silence, when, from some accidental movement of mine, my purse, which was full of gold, fell out of my pocket, and some of the money was scattered about the boat. A general scramble ensued to catch the coin before it should roll under the planks ; it was all found and given back to me with good-natured alacrity, except by Spalatro, on whose face there was an expression not to be mistaken, of avarice and covetousness, as he handed me what he had picked up. The bustle occasioned by this little inci- dent soon subsided, and the silence was unbroken save by the creaking of the mast, the straining of the ropes, or -an occa- sional ominous flap of one or other of the sails. The weather was evidently changing, and that for the worse. The boat before long began to pitch, and reel, and rock, quivering as the waves came with a thud against its low sides ; yet I, who all my life had been a martyr to sea-sickness, felt in this instance perfectly well, and able to smoke with the same tran- quillity as these veteran sea-dogs my companions. I must have owed this exemption from bodily suffering to the extreme tension and pre-occupation of my mind. After some time, however, I began to observe that the faces around me wore signs of some uneasiness ; there were eager- looks at the sky, then at the waves, over which we were literally bounding, and most anxious glances at the captain — a sort of silent appeal that remained apparently unnoticed, certainly unanswered, for he continued to smoke as if uncon- scious that there were such things as threatening clouds, 336 LOEKNZO BENONI. howling -winds, and raging seas. At length, after we had been for some minutes scudding before the wind with alarming velo- city, he ordered the sails to be lowered, and the men to take to their oars. This order seemed to break the spell, which until now had kept the men silent. Spalatro was the spokesman, asking in a voice lowered to a whisper in concentrated passion, why we were_ not to endeavor to land until the squall had blown over. The captain for all answer, desired him to mind his oars and wait for orders ; that it was his way to command, and not to be commanded by his men. The liubicon was passed, and urged on by the instinct of self-preservation, now roused in all its intensity by the sight of our perilous situation, Spalatro, in a loud voice, and his eyes red with hatred and vengeance fixed on me, swore he would not risk his life without knowing a reason why. The captain was now in a passion also. He rose up, made a cross of his two thumbs, kissed it fervently, and said : "By this holy sign, you shall obey me; you agreed to go with me to France ; you have received half the sum for which yom hired yourself, and go you shall. It is a matter of life and death to this gentleman," pointing to me, " and that's the reason we can not go on shore." " You said when you engaged me," retorted Spalatro, glaring fiercely at me, "that he was a bankrupt escaping from his creditors. I guess the truth now ; better that one perish than four." As he said these words, he flung down his oars, and the other two seemed about to follow his example ; but before they had time to do so, the captain had sprung from my side, seized Spalatro by his collar, thrown him with a jerk fit to break his back into the bottom of the boat, and, taking the pair of oars himself, began to row, making the boat bound at each stroke as if he had combined the strength of ten men in his two arms. The other sailors were cowed, and remained silent and active at their oars. Tor more than two hours did this struggle continue between the tempest's force and the energy of man. At the end of that time the wind lulled, and though the waves still rose mena- cingly around us, it was clear that all immediate risk was over. MUTINY MASTEEED. 337 The captain resumed his former place hy me, motioning to Spalatro, who was sitting sulky and silent in the bottom of the boat, where he had fallen, to return to his duty. He obeyed with the dogged look of a cur that has been chastised by his master. This disturbance caused a painful feeling of restraint among us, and clothed with a substantial form the vague suspicions which had assailed me on first entering the boat. 15 i38 LOKENZO BENONI. CHAPTER XXXV. THE FUGITIVE. The day wore tediously on in a monotony most trying to the spirits, even if body and mind be in a "cheerful, healthy state. To me it gave time to dwell exclusively on my many subjects of grief and dread. As the shades of evening closed over us, the feeling of dis- comfort which had harassed me during the day began to deepen into something more alarming and acute. My head was burn- ing hot ; my temples beat as if they would burst ; convulsive shiverings shook my frame ; my diseased imagination called up all sorts of fantastic and revolting pictures, on which my thoughts fixed themselves with gloomy pertinacity. In vain did I try to reason with myself — iif vain did I exert myself to chase away those haunting demons — monstrous creations of a tottering brain. I had completely lost all control over myself. But, to understand how I had been brought to this state, without any sufficiently-exciting cause since leaving Genoa, I must revert in a few words to the past. The passiveness of my conduct from the night of my in- tended arrest up to the present moment must have struck ev- ery one. My anguish of heart and mind had, indeed, given few visible signs, but my emotions had only been smothered ; they had been working painfully and strongly under this coat- ing of ice. The moment must inevitably come when these bitter waters of the soul would crack their brittle, fragile cov- ering, and, like the terrible debacles of the physical world, ruin and ravage the territory of my reason. This was the fifth night I had passed without sleep. Tho BOEDICRI^'Q ON DELIRIUM. 339 fonr days and nights I had been in concealment had been spent in that state of restlessness peculiar to persons who, un- der very exciting circumstances, such as would naturally call forth immediate action, are condemned to remain passive in- struments in the hands of others. Almost all the hours of those veary days and nights I kept pacing up and down, to and fro, .in the little room that had been assigned to me. Scarcely any solid food had passed my lips ; I was too sick at heart to eat. To support my strength I now and then took a sip of white wine. How well I remember the little table pn which the decanter" and glass were placed, the scanty odd fur- niture, and the quaint, mystical picture of the Madonna hang- ing at the head of the bed. My position was far from being a safe one ; the merest trifle might render all our precautions useless ; every fibre of my heart was thrilling with the agony of the farewell to my mother, added to which were grief and vexation at having been, however innocently, the cause of my brother Camillo's arrest — and that, too, at a moment when arrests were more frequent than liberations. I was, besides, uneasy about many dear friends and associates already impris- oned, or liable to be so at any moment. But all these conflicting thoughts and soitows were forgot- ten in the gnawing anxiety and terror that filled my heart on account of Caesar, my friend and beloved companion from my boyhood until now. I had the most horrible presentiment as to his fate — presentiment is often but the prescience of love ; and did I not too cruelly prove it so 1 Let the reader bear in mind all this mental torture ; let him recall the uninterrupted series of agitations I had endured within so short a period ; let him consider the physical ex- haustion in which I was from want of food and sleep — and he will not be astonished if, at the moment of which I write, a hot fever was scorching up the life in my veins, and I was in a state bordering on delirium. The thought which amid the feverish confusion of my mind mastered all others was this — how easy it would be for the men in whose hands I was to get rid of me. Where was the obstacle to theit robbing and then destroying me, if it pleased 340 LOEENZO BENONI. them so to do 1 "Who was there to question their assertions that they had landed me in safety 1 I reasoned with curious, tormenting ingenuity to prove to myself that I had less chance of reaching my destination than if I had been a bale of goods. For that there would have been a bill of lading ; and if it did not come to hand, the person to whom it had been consigned would institute a search for it. But who would seek for me ? Who expected me 1 Where was the proof of my having ever been in the boat with these men 1 We had neither seen nor spoken with any one since leaving San Pier d'Arena. The crew knew that I had a tempting quantity of gold about me ; they had already received half of the sum stipulated for the voyage, and did they not very well know that when, on their return to Genoa, they claimed the other moiety, my family would not dare to enter into any minute investigation as to my safety, and that in all probability years would elapse be- fore my fate could be ascertained 1 Every trifle added fresh fuel to this nervous excitement. There was a large stone in the stern of the boat, possibly to serve as ballast. As my eye chanced to alight on it, I thought — that stone round my neck — a hole in the water, followed by a gurgling, hollow sound, and then silence, a dead, mournful si- lence — horrible, horrible ! all looks as it did — there is nothing to bear witness that crime has been busy here. A day comes at last — a week, nay, perhaps a month hence — and some wave washes on the beach a swollen corpse, not to be recog- nised even by the tender mother herself. A crowd gathers, looking with horror and disgust, at what? — for that frightful object has almost lost all traces of humanity. I saw the whole scene from beginning to end enacted before me with all the vividness of reality. I did not spare myself one detail ; there was a gloomy fascination in it. I must beg the reader to understand that it is with the grea:t- est difficulty I can put my recolleetions of that frightful night into any kind of order. The various mental phases through which I passed are sufficiently present to my memory ; but the order in which they succeeded one another, the connecting links, are entirely obliterated. However this may he, I re- STATE OF DUALITY. .3il member one circumstance ■which at another time might have passed unnoticed, but which then appeared to me full of dire- ful meaning. At one particular moment of the night I saw Spalatro lean toward his comrade and whisper something, to which the other gave an assenting nod. This was sufficient to turn the current of my thoughts into a fresh channel, and became, so to speak, the starting-point for new and more definite terrors. " These men," thought I, " are then actually plotting against me.'' Once upon this track, I kept on it, full gallop. To be sure they were : had I not felt all along how easy it would bo for them to get rid of me — to murder me ? Some time afterward, Spalatro laid down his oars and drew something out of his pocket, struck fire, and lighted his pipe. I followed his every motion and gesture with the thrilling ear- nestness of one who believed his life or death hung on a thread. Spalatro's neighbor in his turn spoke in a whisper. " A little later," was the answer. I heard the words distinctly. This put an end to my doubts ; it was a clear case. Let Vio one imagine that I yielded myself a willing victim to these terrors : on the contrary, the little reason still left me made desperate efforts to take the upper hand, but in vain. More than once I said to myself, " This is all the work of a diseased imagination ;" and yet the moment afterward a word, a movement, or look of Spalatro's, was sufficient to reawaken all my fears. In short, two distinct beings seemed to exist in me : one frantic, raving mad, the other in possession of his reason, watching, pitying, and striving to set the former to rights ; a sort of chorus, like that of the Greek tragedies, which, always offering good advice, is never even listened to. " How thankful should I be," thought I, " if I could fall asleep — ay, and never open my eyes again — if these men really mean to injure me, or else to sleep on till we have fairly reached France !" But to have to think a^d argTie with myself, to seek an issue from an inextricable position ; to have to do this, weary to death in mind and body as I was, with the consciousness of inability to cope with my difficulties, oh ! words can not de- 342. LOEENZO BEN ONI. scribe the horror of such a situation. Unluckilj the outward world hut too well harmonized with my gloomy, foreboding thoughts. Masses of black clouds were careering wildly through the sky, entirely veiling the hazy moon ; rain fell at intervals ; it was a dreary scene. The night must have been far ad- vanced ; for the captain, who was seated at the poop by my side, was ready to drop with sleep. He had several times en- deavored to persuade me to lie down in the bottom of the boat and try to rest, but all in vain ; I dared not ! At last, after another refusal, the motive of which he was certainly very far from suspecting, he himself took the advice he had given me : he lay down, and a moment afterward was snoring gloriously. The presence of this man, who had won my entire confi- dence by his firm and loyal conduct through the squall of the preceding day, had, unknown to myself, exercised a salutary influence over me. With him departed the little ray of reason still left to me, and I gave myself up for lost. From that moment I ceased all struggle with the phantoms that so har- assed me, and became the unresisting prey of horrible hallu- cinations. At one moment Spalatro's figure expanded to such gigantic dimensions that it reached the clouds; at another his arms and the oars he held united themselves into one frightfiil whole, and stretched themselves out to seize me ; or else his eyes glowed like red-hot charcoal, and I saw him grin and shake his fist at me. Once during the night he spoke to me, and his voice sounded in my ears like a death-knell. " Had you not better lie down and try to sleep 1" he said. Had he told me in the most distinct manner, " Lie down and be killed !" such words could not have conveyed to my mind a clearer and more complete impression that such was his meaning, than those be had really pronounced. But it is time to put an end to this long death-struggle of reason. There is something both revolting and degrading to human nature in the sight of a darkened intellect wrestling with imaginary dangers ; and I say designedly imaginary dangers ; for I wish it to be well understood, that, excepting a certain grudge that Spalatro bore me, and which he did not seek to HALLUCINATIONS. 343 disguise, all the rest was merely the -work of an over-excited brain. A faint streak of light on the horizon made the few stars visible look pale, and a white mist began to spread itself over the sea. It was no longer night, and yet it could scarcely be called day. Spalatro, leaning back over his neighbor's shoulder, spoke in a very low voice to the lad seated behind them. The boy immediately put his hand in his pocket, and then handed something across to Spalatro. This something, I saw it clear ly defined against the sky, was an open knife ; a poor inno cent knife, meant probably to cut a slice of bread. This was my finishing stroke. To rise and leap into the water was the work of an instant. " He is mad ! he is mad !" shouted Spa- latro. Ten seconds afterward the boat had reached me, and six strong arms lifted me again on board. Not a word was uttered. The two men and the boy stood motionless, with their eyes fixed on me. The captain, still holding me by the collar, by which he had helped to pull me out of the sea, bent over me, and gazed intently into my eyes, as if seeking from them an explanation of my strange conduct. After a minute of close scrutiny, he let go his hold of me, and clutching his hair with both hands, cried out in a tone of de- spair, " He is mad ! he is mad !" " I am not quite mad yet," I replied, endeavoring to appear calm, " but I shall very soon be so, unless you put me on shore." " Put you on shore !" repeated the captain ; " that's a good idea. Do you not know that I might as well throw you back into the sea 1 On shore ! why, it is certain death. Think of your poor mother. What would she say, after all the promises I made to take you safely to France? — Gracious God ! what is the matter with you V seeing that I little heeded his words; "what is the matter? — what are you afraid of here? — what does all this mean!" he asked in a state of great agitation. " Do you take us for assassins ?" inquired Spalatro with a bitterness most alarming. How he had guessed what was passing within me, I know not ; but that he had done so, I was quite sure. 344 LORENZO BBNONI. " For mercy's sake, do not take ofiPence !" said I ; " you may easily see that I am not quite myself, and I feel that if I do not quit this boat I shall go mad. Put me on shore — pray, put me on shore !" The contest lasted some time. I owe it in justice to the captain to say that he did and said everything humanly possible, to deter me from my rash purpose. Expostulations and entreaties were followed by appeals, not only to my reason, but to my softer and better feelings : he left nothing untried. More than once I felt touched ; more than pnce I wavered in my resolution ; but each time, by some inexpli- cable fatality, Spalatro's voice would suddenly join in the conversation, and never failed to reawaken my misgivings. To such an extent did this shrill, yet drawling voice, in the intonations of which thrilled forth deep resentment, give the lie, or seem to do so, to the sense of the words he uttered, which were not only those of encouragement, but often of entreaty. At last I said — " You have strength on your side : you can master me, and force me to remain, if you choose ; but I warn you of the con- sequences. I shall lose the little reason I have left, and you will have a madman to deal with. Put me on shore, and let me shift for myself." I had no other argument to use, and I used no other, repeating the same words over and over again. The very effort I was making to appear calm was fanning the volcano within me. I well remember being more than once within an ace of throwing myself again into the sea. The perplexed captain now got very angry. " Tou shall go with us, whether you like it or not. I will have you bound hand and foot, and we'll land you safely in France, in spite of yourself!" There must have come some terrific change over my features at these words, for the captain hastened to add, in quite an- other tone, " No, no, don't be afraid. I don't mean what I say ; I won't do it. You shall do anything you please." " Put me on shore, then." " Very well ; and your blood be on your own Lead. God is my witness, and these men too, that had you teen my own HOEEIBLE ! 345 mother's son I could not have meant better by you, or done and said more to prevent your taking this wild step." " I know it, I know it !" was my reply. We were, as far as I could judge, about a mile from land. By this time the sun was high in the heavens, and shone brightly upon a little town most picturesquely perched on an eminence of the rock-bound .coast. It was agreed that I should be landed a short way below the town, and the boat was accordingly put about in that direction. In the mean- while, I took off my wet clothes, and put on the suit which I had most fortunately brought away with me. This operation was rather a slow one ; so that, when it was finished, we were within a couple of hundred yards of the shore. I raised my eyes, and lo ! my hair stood on end at the sight I beheld. I rose to my feet, and cried with outstretched hands, " Don't you see 1 don't you ? — they have hanged them !" In fact, I saw, as clearly as I see these characters I am now tracing on this paper, three gibbets standing on the shore, each supporting a blackened corpse, and at the foot of each, a woman kneeling in deep mourning garments. The men in the boat, ashy pale, watched all my movements in mute terror; their eyes wandering from me to the shore, where, in all prob- ability, they perceived only some rocks, which my delirious imagination had distorted into the awful shapes I have de- scribed. As we neared the shore, the vision became less dis- tinct, and when we touched land, I saw in its place only a dark, confused mass. This may easily be accounted for. The objects which I had dressed with such terribly significant shapes were a little to our right, and at a certain distance we ' got a front view of them ; but, as the boat approached, I could only see them sidewise; thence the gradual change in their appearance. I was just leaving the boat, when I heard Spalatro say, "Who is to pay us?" This reminded me of a bit of paper, which, when I reached my destination, I was to give the cap- tain, and upon the presenting of which he would receive the second half of the sum of money agreed on for my voyage. I looked for it, and in doing so found my passport. Lest, if 346 LOEKNZO BENONI. I were taken, I should bring the friend who had procured it for me, in his own name, into trouble, I tore it into small pieces, and threw them into the sea. This done, I handed the paper I had first sought for to the captain, and said, " Here is the check for your money. Thank you. Good- by, and forgive me !" With these hurried words, I leaped on shore. Strange phenomena of that duality to which I have already alluded ! one moment previous, I was the sport of the most frantic delusion, and the next I was giving proofs of a pru- dence and foresight that would have done honor to the most cool-headed individual. Again, to such a degree did I distrust these men, that, in preference to remaining with them, I wit- tingly exposed myself to the greatest danger ; and yet, in the act of parting with them, I had the consciousness that I did them wrong, and entreated their forgiveness. OCT OF THE BOAT. 347 CHAPTER XXXVI. THE FUGITIVE CONTINUED. It was with a feeling almost of joy that I leaped from the boat upon the sandy beach. The perpendicular line of cliffs on which runs the famous Cornice road, towered above me, and higher still rose mountain upon mountain. I ran like a wounded hart up the steep path cut on the face of the cliff. About half way up there was a hut, the door of which a man opened just as I was passing. I was burning with thirst, and stopped to ask him if he would give me some wine or a drink of milk. He stared at me for a moment, then hastily retreated, and shut the door in my face. I believe I was a frightful, haggard- looking creature. I made no further effort to get the refresh- ment I so much needed, but continued my hurried course ; and when I reached the high road, turned mechanically to the right, in the direction of the town, which I saw not far off. I had not gone a hundred paces when I perceived a group of persons coming toward me, and an instinctive feeling prompted me to shun them. Looking about foi the means of doing so, I saw on my left a path which led up the mountain. I instantly took it, and with a feverish eagerness that rendered me insensible to its ruggedness — up, up I crept, till I had left far behind me all the villas which lie scattered over the sides of the olive-covered mountains of Liguria. Nor did I stop till I had reached the height where cultiva- tion ended. The sun was scorching ; I was dreadfully thirsty, and quite out of breath ; so I sat down and began io consider 848 LORENZO BKNONI. what would be my most prudent course. I felt the necessity of forming some plan, and, at the same time, my utter inability to do so. I was like a man in a dream, on whom the most instant danger presses, and who is yet incapable of making the slightest motion to avert it. The instinct of self-preserva- tion called loudly and imperiously on me to gather up the reins of reason, to bridle my thoughts ; but do what I would — and what a labor, what a struggle it was — I could not manage it. Words can not give an idea of the gloomy despair which the knowledge of my helplessness brought with it. Had a carabineer appeared at that moment, and seized me by the collar, I could have thanked him for putting an end to my mental agony. I was startled from this mood by the barking of dogs below me. There was in a corner of my brain an indistinct notion of having read or heard that it was the practice in the south of France to hunt men with dogs. And though I knew very well that I was not in France, it immediately struck my fancy that I had been seen and recognised, and that the dogs were out to track me. Springing to my feet, I rushed on as chance directed, like a hunted wild beast, till I came to the brink of a deep quarry, that stopped my onward course. " Would it not be as well to throw myself over, head foremost, and so make an end to earthly troubles ?" The sight of the deep gulf had a fascination for me, — there would be rest at the bottom! "And thy mother!" I looked round to see who had spoken ; there was no one of course. The filial recollec- tion, however, had come in time to save me, and I now recoiled with horror from the edge of the precipice. The barking had ceased. Let me try to sleep ; it will do me good. I doubled up my coat to serve as a pillow, and laid myself down. For some time I remained quite still, with my eyes closed, without moving hand or foot, but it would not do. Sleep would not answer my call. The restless activity of my mind overpowered even the weariness of my body, and there was a sound of rushing waters in my ears, which banished sleep. My thirst also had by this time become unbearable, and I ventured down from the height to which I had climbed, A DEEAJMC. 349 to the lower and more cultivated belt of the mountain, in search of water. Luckily it was not long before I lighted on a spring. I drank eagerly, and washed my hands and face with delight, and then once more lay down under a tree close by, to rest, if not to sleep. Before me sparkled the immense expanse of the Medi- terranean, of a blue deeper and brighter than the sky that shone above it. There I lay — how long I know not, but certainly for hours. I did not sleep that I remember, but I fell into a state between sleeping and waking, during which I had a dream, or rather another vision. To this day I am ignorant if there really were an island in the sea before me. I either saw, or dreamed I saw, that there was one, and as clearly did I see the Emperor NapoleoH lying there dead, but dressed as he is always represented, and with a cocked hat and boots. I knew not why I should dream or have visions of Napoleon, with whom I had neverheld the slight- est communication, and whom I had never even seen. There he lay, however,' distinctly before me. All his relatives and marshals, as we see them in engravings, were there, walking in procession, each as he passed bowing reverently to the august dead, and then all crowding round him with acts of adoration. Wliat roused me from this dream I can not tell. This I know, I went again to the spring, and once more washed my face and hands ; and then I began to wander about without any plan. In course of time I got to a little promontory, whence I discovered the town below, not far off. The sight made me think of some friends I had there, on whose help ant! kindness I knew I might depend. Suppose I ventured down and tried to find them out. I instantly resolved to make the experiment. The mountain was crossed in almost every direction bypaths regularly cut, and by one of these I hoped to reach the town without being obliged to go on the high road. As I walked along, my attention was caught by a small house, or rather cot- tage, whose white walls, green jalousies, and the snowy curtains peeping forth, gave it an air of comfort quite captivating to a dOO LOKENZO BENONI. weary wanderer, wlo knew not where to look*for food or shelter ; and it was with reluctant steps, and with more than one sigh, that I left it behind. The path I was in followed a gradual slope, and at last I perceived, to my great mortification, that it led into the high- way, which, to reach the town, I must walk along for some considerable distance ; a necessity I greatly regretted, but I knew not how to avoid it. As I emerged therefore into the road, I put on the most unconcerned air I could assume, and walked forward leisurely ; but I very soon began to entertain serious misgivings as to the possibility of carrying through my project safely. In fact, I observed that the few persons I met eyed me with surprise and attention ; from which I concluded that there was something in my appearance calculated to excite suspicion. The feeling of discomfort arising from this discovery in- creased immeasurably when I was within view of the town gates, and perceived two carabineers standing there like sen- tinels. The sight of their odious uniform cut short all hesita- tion, and back I turned instantly. In a little town, where everybody knows everybody, my being a stranger would have been found out immediately, and, joined to the evident fact of my rather suspicious appearance, might have led not only to the asking of very ticklish q[uestions, but to the discovery of who I actually was. So by the same path by which I had come down the moun- tain, I returned — like the king of France and his renowned army — and began my wanderings without end or aim, till I -found myself once more in the neighborhood of the dear little cottage with the green shutters, which had so taken my fancy. With what eager eyes did I look at it ! What a craving desire I felt to lay my head under the shadow of its roof! There was a magnificent fig-tree close by, and as the day was now on the wane, I made up my mind to lie down under its shade, and spend the night there as best I could. " If T can only get some sleep," thought I, " my head will be clearer to-morrow, and then I shall be able to think of some practicable means of getting out of this scrape. Thereupon I HOST AND UOSTESS. 351 Stretched myself on tlie ground, and settled myself in an atti- tude of repose, though the cravings of hunger which I now felt gave me little prospect of a tolerable night. " What are you doing here ?" said a gruff voice on a sudden, close to my ear. Opening my eyes, I saw a countryman standing by me, and looking hard at me. I did not rise to toy feet, but sat up very quietly, so as not to scare him or make him afraid of me ; and taking my purse out of my pocket, so that he should not take me for a common vagrant, I held it up before him, and said, " I have lost my way, good man ; I am very tired, and I do not wish to go all the way to the town ; if you will give me something to eat and drink, and a place to lie down in till the morning, you shall have some of this money." The man looked half stupid, half unwilling ; nevertheless, tempted by the sight of the gold, he bade me follow him, and led the way to the captivating cottage that stood close by. How lucky and how odd, thought I, that I should find a, resting-place in the very house which I have all day been look- ing upon with such longing, and within whose walls I have so yearned to be. However, I had been reckoning without my host in every sense of the word ; for, when we got to the door, he bade me stop and sit down on the stone bench at the side of it, while he went to fetch me something to eat. He very soon returned with some bread and a basket of cherries. I was rather dis- appointed, and asked- if he had nothing more substantial to give me. He shook his head, without taking the trouble to speak ; so, as I was faint for want of food, I was fain to be thankful even for this small supply. While I was still eating, a woman came up to us, younger and better looking than the man. She was fresh-colored and smiling, and if not handsome, had a good-natured, intelligent look, that made up for the absence of actual beauty ; whereas the man, who, as I quickly discovered, was her husband, was one of those unhappily-constituted beings who seem as if they could neither be good nor bad. The woman at first looked Bui-priseA-; but when she heard how it was that I happened to 352 LOEENZO BENONI. be there, the surprise turned to anger at the way her husband had treated me. Women are gifted with finer and nicer per- ceptions than men : dusty and travel-worn as I was, this peas- ant-woman at once guessed my social position ; for she said, with no little asperity, to her stolid helpmate, " Is this the way you treat a gentleman V Then turning to me, she begged me to go in and rest in the house. The room into which she ushered me was on the ground-floor, small and scantily fur- nished, but neatly kept. The kind hostess gave me the largest and most comfortable chair, and began at once to busy herself in the preparation of a repast sAmewhat more in accordance with my wants. * She brought me, with a good-will that had something invig- orating in itself, some cold meat, and very tolerable wine, though the man had told me there was none ; and then, after asking me if I would like to remain during the night, she be- gan to arrange a bed, for -wliifli no one could doubt I had great need. Refreshed and strengthened by the wine and food I had taken, comforted by feeling myself once more under shelter of a roof, and cheered by the hearty kindness of my good hostess, the excitement of my mind began to subside, and I felt able to consider with comparative coolness what I ought to do. Was it not possible, through this kind-hearted, active wo- man, to open some communication with either of the two sure friends I had in Ventimiglia? If I should succeed in this, it might prove my salvation. Pursuant to this plan, with great caution I made some inquiries about diflFerent persons in the town, whom I knew only by name, mentioning in a casual manner that I had some friends there. Prom one thing to an- other I at last got courage enough to put the direct question — " Do you know Mr. Botta ?" He was one of the two on whose aid I knew I could reckon. " Oh, to be sure,'' replied the man, " but it is long since Mr. Botta left this ; he has been settled at Nice for some time." This answer deprived me of the half of my little capital of hope. It was then with a throbbing heart and faltering voice that I risked the other half. WONDEEFUL COmClDENOE. 353 "And can you tell me anything of Doctor Palli?" "fer bacco !" replied the woman with a merry laugh — " know Doctor Palli ? Why, you are in his house at this mo- ment !" I fairly started up from my chair. Here was indeed a piece of unexpected luck : almost within my reach the very man I wanted — the man to communicate with whom I would have willingly given all I was worth in the world at that time ! However, I controlled my joy as well as I could, and turning to the man, said : " Ah ! indeed, that is lucky, for Doctor Palli is one of my most intimate friends, and I am extremely anx- ious to see him with as little delay as possible. Can you carry a note to him this evening 1" The man having willingly agreed to do so, I tore a leaf out of my pocket-book, and wrote a few guarded words, which I delivered to my messenger, and, with a feeling of relief from a heavy burden, saw him hasten on his errand. Meanwhile the good woman continued her preparations. There was evidently but one bed in the little household, and this she did not hesitate for a moment to prepare for me, only removing one of the mattresses for her own use. " She was sorry," she said, " that the small ground-floor which she and her husband occupied could not afford me bet- ter accommodation. The two upper stories would certainly answer much better, but they were never used without express orders from her landlord, for the use of whose family they were kept." I thanked my kind hostess warmly for her attention, pro- testing that I needed and wished for nothing better than what she offered with such cordiality. I was most eager to lay my head once more on a pillow, and awaited the return of the man with great impatience. At length he came back, and assured me that he had placed my note in Doctor Palli's own hands. I was in the very act of going to bed, when a well-known voice sounded in my ear ; and, turning, I found myself in the arms of my friend. 354 LORENZO BENONI. CHAPTER XXXVII. THE FUGITIVE CONTINUED. The sight of a familiar face, the sound of a familiar voice, are cordials which a man situated as I then was can thoroughly appreciate. The first thing the doctor said was rather disap- pointing, however, to One whose most earnest desire was to be in bed. The house I was in, according to the doctor, was not a safe place for me. The fact of a stranger having landed from a boat in the morning, and having afterward been seen on the mountain, was already talked of in the town, and it was not possible that what everybody knew, the police alone should be ignorant of. Now should any search be made, it would of course be in the neighborhood of where the stranger had been seen. " Don't be alarmed," said the doctor kindly, mistaking for uneasiness the vexation that appeared on my countenance ; " we will get you out of this scrape ; but you must have pa- tience, and submit to the guidance of others." I offered no remark — what could I say ? — and made myself ready to go. My poor landlady, who found that all her benevolent bustle and hospitable preparations were to b^ thrown away, looked ready to cry. I did not offer Tier any money. I was con- vinced that all she had done had been from real benevolence and good feeling ; and actions taking their rise from such mo- tives are beyond payment. As I shook her rough hand most cordially, I hope I made her feel that I was really grateful ; I then held out my han3 to her husband, leaving within his palm a small sum to which MY NEW EEFUQE. 36S I knew he would have no objection, at the same time that it was an acknowledgment of his services. Outside the door we found several persons waiting, who fell into the rear as we turned our backs on what I had looked upon as a haven of rest and security. The night was dark, the sky was overcast, and I was so sleepy that I could distin- guish but little of the road we were traversing : all I can rec- ollect is, that we skirted the hill in. the direction of the town, which, however, we avoided entering; and that after walking some time we came to a round tower, which I found Was for the present to be my hiding-place. The doctor introduced me to a man he called Pietro, who had the appearance of a laborer, and who was to have charge of me. I then received several instructions : among others, I was charged only to open my door to one peculiar knock, which the doctor repeated over and over again ; and when he had satisfied himself that I could make no mistake, we entered the tower. The room I was to occupy, and which took up all the ground-floor of my new abode, contained no other furniture than a bed, a table, and a few chairs. Here Doctor Palli, whom I had briefly informed as we went along, of the cii-cumstances connected with my landing in this neighborhood, not without expressing strong doubts as to there being any foundation for my fears, felt my pulse, bade me go to bed, and then bled me freely. Thereupon he wished me " Good-night." I fell asleep at once, and did not awake till the sun was high above the horizon. I was myself again — calm, almost cheerful, though rather weak. The events of the last two days were like a dream ; yet what I could distinguish through the mist in which they were enveloped, was sufficient to fill me with shame and remorse — shame at the deplorable part I had involuntarily enacted ; remorse at the unworthy manner in which I had treated the captain and his crew. But what could I do now? Nothing, except seize the first opportunity to clear them of any imputa- tion, and to manage that they should one day hear of my re- gret ; and this was done, so soon as in my power. After breakfast, to while away the tedium of the long hours S56 LOEENZO BENONI. — for I had neither book nor pen and ink — -I began to exam- ine my new abode. The room in which I bad passed the night was as dull as a convent-cell ; it had no other light, so far as I can remember, but that which it received from the window of a small, winding staircase, that led to an upper room, exactly similar to the one below in point of size and furniture, except that there was no bed in it, but with the in- calculable advantage — to a poor prisoner — of a window, com- manding a fine view of the surrounding country. Here I spent hour after hour ; the only interruption to my solitary reflec- tions being breakfast and dinner. I did not see the person who brought my provisions ; they were always given to Pietro, the man I had seen on the night of my arrival. In the evening the doctor came to see me, but Avith the greatest precaution. Like sleuth-hounds, the police scented their victim in the air : it was most material to my safety that they should not be roused to the chase. Two days passed in this alternation of speculation and alarm. Situated as I was, there could be nothing more trying than inaction. In a struggle, there is vitality and hope ; but it is killing to sit day after day watching the rising and the setting of the snn ; to feel the blood stagnating in your veins, without being able to move hand or foot to help yourself, bound down by the iron chain of circumstance. An incident, however, which I must not omit, soon happened, and broke the monot- ony of the life I was leading in a manner as abrupt as it was disagreeable. On the forenoon of the third day, I had gone as usual to the upper room, and taken my accustomed place opposite but at a certain distance from the window, so that I could enjoy look- ing out on the fine scenery without myself being seen from out of doors. The hours went slowly by ; the time for dinner came, but none appeared. I waited one hour, then another, when I did not doubt that the doctor had found some cause of alarm which had prevented bis sending my provisions as usual. I knew afterward that I was mista,ken in this supposition : some accident — I forgot what — bad happened to the bearer. I therefore returned to my bedroom, and threw myself on the WHAT NEXT? 357 bed, in the hope of sleeping off my hunger. In fact, I did fall into a light slumber, out of which I was startled by a noise like the roar of a cannon, and in an instant the room was full of dust, so that I was almost smothered. I was wondering what it could be, when Pietro, who had also heard the noise, came in to see what was the matter ; and on our going to the upper room, we found that the ceiling had partially fallen, ex- actly over the spot in which I always sat at dinner. A narrow escape it was. Had my dinner come at the usual hour, I must have been either killed or maimed for life. The following morning I was awakened by Pietro rapping violently. I leaped out of bed, and unbolted the door. He came in, in great alarm. " The carabineers ! the carabineers !" began he, in a loud quaking whisper ; and " the carabineers" were the only words I could make out of what he said. With- out seeking any further explanation, I dressed myself hur- riedly, and made for the door, where Pietro pointed out a vine-covered wall, and a hedge, on the oth^r side of which, he muttered rather than said, I should find a person waiting, in whose hands I must place myself. There was, of course, neither time nor room for discussion or hesitation. I ran to the hedge, scrambled over it, and, sure enough, found a man waiting for me. This man, whom we shall call Ercole, was a person that would have been remarkable in any country. He was an extremely well-proportioned man, though much above the ordinary height ; and the expression of his face, denoting almost brutal energy of will, corresponded well with the vigor and activity of his body. He somewhat allayed the alarm which my guardian Pietro had excited. Doctor Palli, he told me, had been summoned to the presence of the commandant of the town. Greatly alarmed at this summons, he had, previous to obeying it, sent for Ercole, and intrusted to him the care of removing me from what could no longer be considered a place of safety, to one more secure. Here Ercole stopped, and drew my attention to a couple of carabineers, who were going up a hill opposite to where we 358 LORENZO BENONI. stood. " The police are evidently on the look-out," he said, " for they are quite off the usual beat." Then turning to me, he continued : " Do not be alarmed, sir. I will bring you through safe enough ; only you must trust me, and do whatever I say, however odd it may seem." In the plight in which I was, I must perforce trust him, or indeed the first comer who promised me fairly. He moved on, and I followed. It appeared to me, ignorant as I was of the outskirts of Ventimiglia, that we kept wandering backward and forward, up and down the hill, close to the town. At length, after what seemed to me hours, we suddenly came to a sheltered little valley, apparently out of all risk of intruding carabineers. Here, Ercole told me, I must submit to lie con- cealed till dusk, for there really would be imminent danger should I be seen near any high road, dressed as I was. It may be remembered, that before quitting the boat I had thrown off the sailor's disguise, and resumed my customary dress. Submission was the order of the day. I therefore lay down on the ground, as my guide directed, and suffered myself to be carefully covered with grass, brushwood, and dead leaves — in short, with anything that came to hand. This done, Ercole desired me, happen what might, not to stir, and left me in a very novel, and not very agreeable or heroic situation; nor was it one very easy to be long maintained. At first I managed pretty well ; but judge of my horror when two men came to hoe a piece of ground close by. I dared not make the slightest motion, and scarcely ventured to draw my breath, for fear of attracting attention. The sound of their hoes seemed to come nearer to me. Every minute I dreaded some unlucky stroke which should betray me to their wondering eyes. My body was literally on the rack, and I may say I was scarcely more at ease in mind. The summons received by Dr. Palli, and its possible consequences, constantly and exclusively occupied my thoughts. The precariousness of my own situation, and anxiety for my personal safety, dwindled into nothing before the idea of the trouble and danger I had possibly brought on my friend. CAKCKEE DUEO A BBAECH. 369 This sort of carcere duro lasted from mid-day to sunset. At length I had the happiness of hearing the retreating steps of the two men, who had been working, as it were, all round me ; but it was some time before I could muster courage to peep out of my hiding-place. It was nearly dusk, and presently Ercole's large form reappeared. " "What of the doctor ?" said I eagerly ; " is he safe 1" " The doctor is safe at home," was the reply. What a relief it was to hear such blessed words ; and what a relief also to stretch my cramped limbs ! Ercole added, that the interview between the doctor and the commandant had gone off pretty well. The circumstance of a mysterious stranger, who had landed some days ago, having been seen wandering in the vicinity of Dr. Palli's cottage, had led the police, who could hear nothing of the new arrival in the town, to suspect that he might have found a refuge there. There seemed to be no shadow of doubt in the minds of the author- ities, that the stranger, whoever he might be, was a suspicious character, and ought to be looked after. The matter had been referred to the commandant, before the police took the rather adventurous step of ordering a search to be made in the house of so respectable and influential a person as Doctor Palli, who had never hitherto incurred even a shadow of suspicion. As a preliminary measure, the commandant had sent for Dr. Palli, and warned him that it was his duty to make it known if there were any stranger 'at present within his premises. The doctor, of course, stoutly denied the fact of any one having found shelter or concealment in hia cottage ; upon Avhieh he was allowed to retire. On the morrow, however, the suspected house was searched from top to bottom, from cellar to attic. Ercole had brought with him a basket containing cold meat, bread, aud a bottle of wine ; and it was wellj for I was almost starving. The hasty meal over, he said that now I could accompany him to where he was going without much risk. A long walk round the outside of the town brought us to what I knew afterward to be the abode of my new protector. 360 LOEENZO BENONI. This was a small house close to the sea ; the back-door, indeed, opened on the beach. He led me to a room on the first Story which he told me was for the present appropriated -to me. I received pretty nearly the same instructions from him as I had done from the doctor on the night I went to the round tower. I was to open the door only at a particular sigaal. In case of any pressing danger occurring when he might be absent, he taught me the management of a very simple, but clever enough mechanical contrivance, by which I could effect my escape from the window, without the risk of breaking my neck. This contrivance was a large shutter, which by means of strong and specially adapted hinges, fell downward from the side of the window, forming a slanting platform by which a person could slide without difficulty to the ground. Ercole added, " In case of a surprise do not attempt to escape by flight — it would be useless — but make for the trees you see yonder," pointing to some not far off; " climb up any one of them, and remain there quietly : whenever I find you missing I shall seek you there, and provide for your safety." The prospect of having to, slide from a window, and then to climb up a tree was not very reassuring, certainly ; but the precautions against danger, and the earnest tone in which the instructions were spoken, gave me a strong impression of the man's- sincerity and good will. In the days of which I am writing, it must be remembered how a despotic government, wielded by the hands of prejudiced men, trembling for their privileges, had demoralized all classes, and that I had some cause to thank God, as I did, that I had to do with a person of whose good faith and deliberate purpose to save me I could not doubt. I must now say a few words of the captain. So soon as I had left the boat he set out on his return to Genoa, where he at once went to my family, not a little mortified and distressed at the story he had to relate. His report was, that I had gone mad, and probably by the time'he Was speaking had either fallen a victim to my own frenzy, or been laid hold of by the police. The consternation of the whole family, the anguish and despair of my mother, may easily be conceived. LEAVE-TAKING. 361 My youngest brother, however, having procured another passport instead of the one the captain told him I had torn to pieces, immediately set out for the town near which I had landed, to try aAd find out what had become of me, and to see if there was still a possibility of doing me any good. On his way he paid a visit to my uncle the canon, whose res- idence was only a few hours distant from Ventimiglia, in- tending to make the old man accompany him thither. What was my brother's surprise and gratification when he found that our uncle had already been made fully acquainted, by my friend Dr. Palli, with all the circumstances that had taken place since I left the captain. What a relief to hear that I was free — that I was sane, and in comparative safety ! My brotheT's journey to Ventimiglia seeming now to be useless, he readily acquiesced in Dr. Palli's recommendation that as little stir as possible should be made about me, and that any meeting between us had better be avoided ; he therefore contented himself with remaining at my uncle's, to be on the spot if required. A sure messenger was despatched to Dr. Palli with the fresh passport, which eventually reached me through Ercole. For the second time, with the help of the doctor, means were arranged for my escape to France. Ercole hired a boat, and two men in whom he said we might have perfect confi- dence ; but the police keeping a stricter watch than ever on all arrivals and departures, it was decided that I should go on foot to Mentone, and get on board the boat there. Mentone is one of the three towns of the principality of Monaco, a Lil- liputian independent state, set, as it is, like a jewel in the Sardinian dominions. On the evening of the day previous to the one fixed for my second departure from my native country. Dr. Palli came to wish me good-by. I had thus an opportunity of thanking him to my heart's content, and of giving him the sum ho had agreed to pay the men hired for this occasion, when they should return with a certificate of my being in safety. It was well we met "that evening, and that I had an opportunity of expressing my gratitude to one who had been as a second 16 362 LOBENZO SEKOXI. providence to me, for I never saw him again. Peace be to his memory! Everything was ready, the men and boat were waiting at Mentone, and by the high road it would take me only an hour or so to join them ; but we had forgotten to take wind and weather into calculation ; and as ill-luck would have it, a gale arose, and blew furiously without intermission, for three entire days. On the fourth morning it abated, and Ercole told me he thought we might depart. To avoid any danger which a chance rencontre might occa- sion if I accompanied him dressed as a gentleman, he brought me a very old straw hat, a fustian jacket, and a pair of trousers originally white, but now of a nondescript color, and pieced and patched in every direction. I was to pass for his nephew, going with him to Nice to buy young olive plants, which would be a plausible reason for our being on the mountain ; for, in his great prudence, Ercole had planned that we should quit the highway as soon as possible, for a cross-cut, longer than the public road, but more eligible for me. We set out about mid-day, and after a fatiguing walk of nine hours we reached Mentoue. Although it was evening we had still some daylight. Ercole bade me wait in a copse of young olive- trees near the beach, and once more hiding me under some brushwood, he went by himself to reconnoitre, and to see if all was in readiness. I had not long to wait this time, for he returned almost instantly to say that all was safe, and the men and the boat waiting a few yards off. We ran down to the beach, and in a few minutes I was on board. I had not done with acci- dents and omens, however ; for in my haste my foot slipped, and stumbling forward I was so unlucky as to break a demi- john of wine, which the men had placed in the boat for their own use. A second time, in the very moment of embarkation, these words were addressed to me, " A bad omen, sir !" — " On the contrary," said the other man, " they say in these parts that to spill wine is a sign of good luck.'' I was very much annoyed at this accident, because the loss of the wine could not at the moment be repaired, and I knew KMBAKKATION. 863 the men would feel the want of it during the several hours they had to row. There was no help for it, however, as time pressed, and Ercole insisted on the necessity of no further de- lay. I took leave of this man, who though a perfect stranger to me and mine, had shown me the unwearied attention and devotion of a friend. My heart swelled as I pressed his hard hand within my own, leaving in it a token, not of my feelings, nor yet as meant to repay him for services which money alone can neither purchase nor remunerate, but to indemnify him, as he was a man who had to work for daily bread, for his loss of time on, my account. In this slight sketch of one of the most trying episodes of my life, I can not afford to'do more than touch lightly on the characters of the several persons with whom I came in contact. There is certainly much of cold-heartedness, of want of good faith, of selfishness, in the world. Thank God, there is, how- ever, no lack of warm and generous hearts to cheer our many hours of sorrow, and to help us in our difficulties. Such at least has been my experience, and I tell it with a grateful heart. 364 LOKENZO BKNONI. CHAPTER XXXVIII. THE FUGITIVE CONTINUED. The night was beautiful; one of those nights in which everything is in repose, when the splendors of the sky are veiled by soft fleecy clouds, when from the delicate crescent of the new-born moon there descends on the wide ocean a thin line of glittering light, looking like a path to a brighter world. " Fine weather!" said I, addressing the man who was near- est to me. " Sorry to say it won't last," answered he ; " do you see that long white line yonder like the back-bone of a fish 1 We shall have more wind than we shall like very soon." The regular sound of the oars as they dipped in the water tuned my thoughts, as it were, and they took a gentler and less depressing bent than might have been expected at this mo- ment, when I was consummating my farewell to my native land. We had been gliding on in silence for two hours or more, when the prophecy of the boatman seemed about to be verified. Dark threatening clouds had gathered by this time, and there were occasional fierce gusts of wind. The sea, too, began to froth and foam. Another hour had passed before the man opposite to me broke the long silence. " We havb arrived at last," said he. '' Have we ?" exclaimed I in some surprise. " Thank God, we have !" resumed he, pointing out to me, a short distance ahead of us, a river flowing into the sea. THE VAR. 365 " Don't you see it, sir ? That is tlie Var, and you are now in safety." I strained my eyes to penetrate the darkness. I did see the river distinctly. We passed the mouth of it j the strong current rendered it difficult to land there. But a few strokes more, and they ran the boat upon the shore. My voyage, then, was really over ; I was safe : and now I had only to settle with the boatmen, and go as fast as I could to Antibes. No further concealment was necessary — I might once more walk erect, choose my own path, and resume my own name. As I was thinking of all this, I gave the men a paper signed by me, declaring that they had fulfilled their engagement, and on the presentation of which they would be paid the sum stipulated for their services. I had already one foot on land, and one still in the boat, when I suddenly said with a feeling of new-born doiibt — "Are you quite sure that this is French ground?" "Would to God," replied the man who had not yet spoken, pointing to the sky now ominously overcast, and then to the swelling sea, " Would to God that we were as safe at home, as it is true that you are on Tiench ground !" " Which way must I go V I asked, now quite reassured. " After leaving the beach," said the same man, " turn to your left hand, and go straight on till you come to a clump of olive-trees ; the high road to Antibes is close by." I took a piece of gold out of my purse, and gave it to him, saying, " God bless you, and grant you a safe voyage. When you reach home drink to my health and safety." I turned away with my heart quite full ; they were my countrymen : hence forth I should be among strangers. What the hour was I can not say with certainty. Perhaps twelve o'clock, or a little later. All around was dark and dismal, and the rays of the fast sinking moon were so faint, that they only rendered darkness visible. I walked on for some time, anxiously looking for the tuft of olive-trees ; and thinking I had at last descried them, I hastily made my way thither. It was not without some astonishment I remarked, that the ground was so wet that I sank over my shoes at eveiy 366 LOEBNZO BBNONI. step. "When I reached the trees, I found that they were tamarisks, and not olives. In another moment the sea was before me, close to me. I stopped, quite dumbfoundered. "How was this?" I must have kept too much to the left. Retreating from the sea in an oblique direction, I pushed on to the right, and in a few seconds came to the river. How very strange that I should come to the river, which I had. certainly just left behind me ! There was but one explanation possible, and in spite of the evidence of my senses, I satisfied myself with it. In all this turning and re-turning, thought I, I must have entirely deviated from the course pointed out to me, and have come back una- wares to the very spot from which I started. If now I turn my back to the river, and walk on in a diagonal line, I must naturally be going toward France. I did so ; but lo ! in a few minutes, there was the river again in front of me. " Good God ! am I the sport of a delusion ? There are then two rivers here !" And in a state of mind bordering on distraction, I ran to the right, and then to the left, and up and down, pacing twenty times over every inch of ground in every direction. Water, water — everywhere water! Doubt was no longer possible. " The false rufiians ! how they have betrayed me !" A few hundred paces from the sea the Var divides itself, and forms a small island, as far as I can remember, in the shape of an acute triangle, of which the sea is the basis, and the two branches of the river the two sides. On this piece of land I was, encompassed by water alone, and helpless enough, God knows. A ray of hope shot suddenly across my mind, — there must be a bridge or ferry ; the boatmen had possibly forgotten to tell me of it, and in my huny and confusion I had over- looked it. But a most minute search from the sea up to the very junction of the two branches of the river soon convinced me that there was at least no bridge. Far ofiP, however, close to the opposite shore, I saw something black moving on the water. My heart gave a bound, "Hallo! boat here!" No answer broke the silence. I then strained my eyes to make out what it really was that I saw moving, and ended by dis- covering that what I had taken for a boat was nothing more TEKACHEBT — A PLUNGE. 367 tlian the reflection in the river of a tree on the opposite bank, the branches of which the wind was waving to and fro. There was neither bridge nor ferry, and before me a foaming river. The naked reality stared me in the face ! Ah ! how heartlessly had these men deceived me ! Could it have been through ignorance of the locality 1 It was im- possible to believe this of men whose trade, as smugglers, brought them constantly to this part of the coast, and to whom, consequently, every inch of it must be familiar. No, they had acted thus with the full consciousness of what they were doing; these heartless men, in order to hasten by half an hour their return to their homes, 'had not hesitated to place the life of one of their fellow-creatures in fearful jeopardy. This was a terrible moment. " Those who do injury to others," says Manzoni somewhere, " are not only accountable for the actual evil they inflict, but also for the perversion of feeling which they give rise to in their victims." I experienced the truth of the remark on this occasion, as I felt all the worst passions of human nature kindling within my breast : floods of bitter hatred gushed into my heart; wild curses and impre- cations rose to my lips ; I turned round and round in my strange prison, like a wild beast in its cage, and addressed the traitors as if they had been present. How well they had earned the blessing I had bestowed upon them ! and I laughed aloud, and my laugh sounded strange and fearful in my own ears. The thoughts I thought, the words I spoke, are better left untold. Suffice it to say, that I hated and despised myself as belonging to the same race with such vile wretches. To wait patiently till morning in this state of restlessness, between life and death, became qiiite impossible. Come what would of it, I must get out of this suspense ; I must try to cross the river. Should I perish in the attempt — well, I should at least have done with suffering. Without further con- sideration, I plunged at once into the boiling torrent. The cm-rent was excessively .strong, and in spite of all tny efibrts, when at a very short distance from the bank, I felt I was about to lose my footing. The love of life, which clings to men even under the most desperate suffering, spoke aloud iii 368 LOEBNZO BENONI. that moment, and suggested that I was setting my life oi a desperate cast, and that this was not the moment, when \.l\ around lay shrouded in darkness, to attempt to pass such a river. I therefore, not without difficulty, made my way hack to the hank, and there sat down to await the dawn of day. My hath, however — the water heing extremely cold — acted beneficially on mind and body, and restored my self-possession. My thoughts in that dismal hour were solemn, such as be- came a man on the brink of the grave. I thought earnestly of all those I had loved so dearly j I evoked their forms, I addressed to them all a silent and tender farewell. I strove to bring myself into the frame of mind appropriate to my situation, that is to say, I strove, as a dying man can do, to feel at peace with all the world — to be at peace with God ! I tried to forgive even those who had, so entirely without any justifiable motive, condemned me to this agony, and I honestly believe that I did pardon them. Such was the mood in which I passed the remainder of the night; the wind blew high, and there were showers of rain, which, wet as I was already high above the knees, chilled me to death. From time to time a great sea-gull would sail so closely over my head as to fan my hair with its heavy wings, while it uttered a savage cry, as if in wonder or anger at the creature who had thus invaded its peculiar domain. Luckily I had some cigars with me, which, being in a breast pocket, had escaped the water ; and I smoked almost inces- santly. No one but a hardened habitual smoker can under- stand the comfort which this occupation gave me. With the cigar I felt less alone in that lugubrious place ; it warmed me, and was — I may as well say it — like a friend. By degrees, the deep dark loneliness began to give way before the misty gray which precedes the earliest dawn ; the gray mist in its turn faded away, and a long line of yellowish white marked out the horizon to the eastward. A chilly breeze fluttered the leaves of the trees ; the twittering of the birds, and the busy hum of insects — so grateful to the ear in that solitude — gave token that all nature was awaking to hail the coming of the new-born day. REVIVING SPIRITS. 369 Who has not experienced how the gloom that has weighed heavily on us, and colored all our meditations during the night, gradually disappears before the light of day, and how, with the splendors of the rising sun, the early song of birds, the bracing morning breeze, there is born within us a new spirit of hope and love, and of energy to contend and conquer ? Thus it was with me', and with renewed courage I prepared a second time to try the passage of the river. It would be a desperate attempt, but, all things considered, my only chance of salvation. There was, indeed, a remote chance of a boat passing near enough to see my signals ; or I might make my- self seen or heard by some one on the other side of the river. But I was absolutely deterred from either of these attempts, by the reflection that one or other might prove a two-edged sword in my hand, as I had an equal chance of being seen and heard by those on the Sardinian, as by those on the French side. Indeed, the one might be more eager to capture, than the other to liberate me. Besides, was I even sure that the ground on which I stood was not Sardinian? This conside- ration was effectual in deciding me to remain no longer where I was. So, in spite of the danger involved in the endeavor to cross that impetuous river, inexperienced as I was, I made up my mind to try it, as the only chance of escape that was left to me. Having thus decided, I did my best, by a careful survey of the river, from where it entered the sea up to the junction of the two branches, to make myself master of its peculiarities, of its most dangerous points, and of the aid to be derived from adventitious circumstances. The bed of the Var was very wide, but nearly the half of it a dry course. What might strictly be called the river, lay in it like a long sinuous serpent, or rather serpents, and the water thus collected and drawn together had all the force and danger of torrents. They rushed with frightful velocity past the bank where I was standing, and I judged, by what I could see of the opposite bank, that it was the same there. I chose my spot as near as possible to where the river separated into two, this being the point most remote from the sea, being swept into which was my greatest danger. 16» 370 LOEENZO BENONI. To think of crossing in a direct line against such a terrific current, was entirely out of the question. My plan, therefore, was to take an oblique line, which, I expected, would enable me to gain one or other of the strips of dry land separating the streams. My idea was, that I should thus be able to recruit my strength, and recover breath to accomplish the rest of the passage. I was prepared to expect a struggle, and no trifling one. I therefore took some preliminary measures. I placed my purse and passport in my hat, which I then secured on my head as firmly as I could with my cravat, tied under my chin ; and lest my trousers, which were very wide, should impede me, I turned them up above the knees, tying a handkerchief round each leg. Alive now to the danger of my precipitation the evening before, I stepped, with the greatest precaution, into the bound- ing river. I thought I had appreciated its strength and rapidity ; but when I actually experienced its power, my heart quailed within me. The water had scarcely reached to my knees, when I felt that I was losing my footing. I made almost superhuman efforts to maintain it, but in vain ; the river swelled and deepened around me. I then gathered together all my strength, and plunged resolutely forward, trying to swim. But I did not gain an inch of way in the direction I wished to take. Another instant, and I was whirling and tossing along, as if I had been a straw on the surface of the water. I still preserved my presence of mind ; and seeing that I was approaching a small patch of land, or rather a pyramidal mound of stones, which I had remarked from the bank, I made a desperate effort to grasp at it. It was within an arm's length. I strained every nerve, every sinew and muscle, to reach it. Vain struggle, vain hope ! The water lashed me madly along, as it tore onward in its headlong course. I saw the sea at no great distance ; and crying out, " Oh, my mother !" I gave myself up for lost. As far as I can recollect, I was, after that one cry of anguish, in a state of half unconsciousness, and did not suffer. Sud- denly I felt a shock, that thrilled from the soles of my feet to the crown of my head. I opened my eyes. I was on tli^ A STRUGGLE FOK LIFE. 371 very uttermost verge, I may say, of a furious ■whirlpool. I tried to rise, but J;he rush of water, even there, beat me down again.- Animated by new hope, I strove, again and again, to withdraw myself from the dangerous vicinity. I was repeat- edly baffled ; but as I felt, at each new failure, that there was solid ground beneath me, I struggled on until I had worked myself fairly into shallow water. When I was at last able to stand up, I saw that the bank I had been aiming at was within a few yards of me, and made my way thither with comparative ease. I flung myself out of the water, and breathing out, "I thank thee, my God !" sank down exhausted. 372 LOKENZO BENONI. CHAPTEE XXXIX. I CONCLUSION OP THE VOYAGE AND OF THE TALE. The first thing I did when I recovered, was to feel for my hat. Luckily, the cravat with which I had tied it on had not given way, lilie those round my knees, and I still had, what was of most consequence to me, my purse and my passport. My shoes were gone, and^ a good half of my stockings along with them. My feet and hands were sadly cut and bleeding. 1 was curious to know how, when all had seemed so hopeless, I had escaped. With a little reflection,! understood what had at first seemed little short of a miracle. I saw that the river made a sharp elbow at the point where I had felt the shock of the ground, and that it was even to the fury and impetuosity- of the current, as it whirled round this obstacle, that I owed my life. In fact, I had been flung out of its course, as a stone from under the foot of a horse in full career. I perceived, also, that in five minutes morel must have been carried into the sea. But very soon the sight and sound of the rushing waters be- came insupportable to me (a feeling that lasted many long years after), and I fled from it with precipitation, as from an enemy whose murderous grasp I had still to fear. My clothes, as may be supposed, were in a pitiable state ; wet, torn, and muddy. There were some bushes and young trees near, on which I hung some of my garments to dry ; but alas ! down came a lieavy shower, and as my object did not seem likely to be attained, I resumed my wet dress, and stood for several minutes under the branches of some trees, which had been interlaced so as to form a kind of shelter from rain or THE COAST GrAED. 373 sunshine. This circumstance comforted me, as an indication that I was not far from the habitations of men. The shower being over, I walked on a short way, when I observed, at a little distance from me, a man with a gun in his hand, whom, from his attitude and dress, I concluded to be a sportsman. My first impulse would have been to go toward him, and ask his assistance ; but my experience of the day before had made me distrustful, and I stood hesitating. The man, however, had also seen me, and coming hastily toward me, he said — " Who are you 1 what are you doing here ? and pray, Tvhere are your companions 1" " What companions ?" said I, amazed at his roughness ; " I have no companions. As for what I am doing, you may see yourself. I am shaking with cold and hunger." The man did not answer me at once, but stood with his gun full cocked, peering round and into the bushes and brush- wood, as if he expected to discover somebody or something hidden there. " But how did you come here ?" asked he, returning to me after his useless search. " I crossed the Var." " You could not do that alone.'' " I certainly did," retorted I. "And what was your motive for running such a riskl" I now guessed that, instead of a sportsman, I had fallen in with one of the men of the coast-guard. " I have fled from the other side," said I, " on account of political motives." To all appearance, the coast-guard was far from satisfied with my answers, as he surveyed me with suspicious eyes. To tell the truth, there must have been a Robinson Crusoe look about me, that might justify some mistrust. '' Come along with me !" said he at last, in no courteous tone, beginning to walk away pretty briskly; and with my bruised and bleeding feet, of which he had either taken no notice, or for which he had no compassion, I followed him. After about a quarter of an hour's walking over marshy 374 LOEENZO BENONI. ground, but which was covered with low bushes and verdure, we entered a high road, and I saw before me the little French village of Pont St. Laurent, and also the bridge over the Var, which is the line of demarkation between France and Sardinia.- It was with a strange mixture of pleasure and fear, that I con- sidered the short distance which separated me from the scaffold. After all, thought I, there is some good in conventionality. We went into a small wooden building, in which there were four or five customhouse officers, one of whom offered me some brandy- out of a gourd, an offer I accepted with alacrity. My guide spoke to one of them, who seemed the superior, and who, after hearing the account of my capture, replied in a loud voice — " This is no business of mine. Go to the quartermaster." We then took our way to the barracks of the gens d'armes. As we went along, we met several pei'sons, principally day- laborers and soldiers ; and I remarked with surprise and morti- fication, that I was an object of curiosity to all, of sympathy to none. The quartermaster was standing at the door of the barracks. So soon as he saw us approaching, he called out — " An early prize ! of course another smuggler." " The gentleman gives himself out to be a political refugee," replied my conductor. " Likely enough," replied the quartermaster, shrugging his shoulders. " I see how it is — more food for powder and Algiers." Deserters who fled to France were at that epoch sent to Africa, and incorporated in the foreign legion. I did not at that moment understand what was meant, and therefore took no notice of the words. The coast-guard man then went away, and the quarter- master became my escort. I at once classed him among that species of functionaries who think by arrogance and surliness to add importance to their office. We soon reached and entered a mean-looking house of one story. " You must now be pleased to give an account of yourself to the mayor," said my new guide, addressing me in a most consequential tone. OEOSS-QUKSTIONED. 375 The worshipful mayor was occupied mending a bird-cage. "What's the matter now?" said he, putting on an ofiScial frown as he saw me enter the room. "A deserter !" unhesitatingly replied the quartermaster. This time the words were plain enough. I could no longer doubt that they were applied to me. " Mr. Mayor," cried I warmly, "' I am no deserter ; of which you may easily convince yourself, if you will take the trouble to look at my passport." The quartermaster looked both surprised and disappointed at my having one. The mayor read and examined the pass- port with much attention, raising his eyes from time to time, to compare my appearance with the description it contained. " This passport is not according to rule," said he at last ; " I do not see the signature of the French consul at Nice." The objection was ridiculous. " If I had had time and leisure to go to Nice, and to have my .passport signed there," I replied, " it is not likely that I should have crossed the Var a^; the risk of my life." " Your passport says ' fresh-colored,' " interrupted the quartermaster, who had been looking at it over the mayor's shoulder, " and you are as yellow as a canary-bird. You need not try to deceive us ; as sure as I'm alive you are a deserter." , The description of the friend who had procured the pass- port at Genoa answered very well for me, excepting as to com- plexion. I would not give a direct answer to the quarter- master, but turning to the mayor I said : — " Have the goodness to consider that the danger I have just escaped is a tolerably good reason for my not being 'fresh- colored' at this moment, without taking into account my not having tasted food for twenty-four hours, and that I am dripping wet. It is no great wonder, I think, if I do look rather pale." My arguments, and the tone in which I uttered them, seemed to make some impression on the mayor ; but he was evidently intimidated by the presence of the quartermaster. !' Write your name," said he gruffly, giving me a pen and 376 LOEENZO BBNONI. piece of paper. I wrote my name, ■which he compared closely with the signature I had myself put to the passport on re- ceiving it. " Now," said the mayor, " relate to me, and circumstantially, all the particulars which have caused you to leave your native country." I said that one of my brothers and several of my intimate friends having been thrown into prison on account of their political opinions, which had given umbrage to the government, I had been advised to get out of the way for a short time. The mayor made note of all I said. " It appears to me that, under these circumstances, I can not refuse my signature," said he at last with a sigh and a deprecatory look at the quartermaster. " If you are satis- fied to do so," replied the latter, " in spite of the difference of complexion, why, of course, I have nothing to say to it." " Let me see your hands," said the mayor suddenly. I held them out; he examined them, inside and out; felt them, and then made the quartermaster do the same. They were search- ing, I suppose, for the corns which the use of the musket always causes. " Are your pockets well lined, my man 1" asked the mayor, with a knowing look at the quartermaster. I stared at him without answering. " Have you any money 1" persisted he. " Yes." " Well, let me see." I drew out my purse, which, notwithstanding the several attacks I had made on it, was still pretty full, and poured out the contents on the table before which the mayor was seated. The mayor raised his hands, as if to say, "That's enough !" signed my passport at once ; and added, " You may boast of your good luck as long as you live. A man who has escaped the gibbet in Piedmont, and who at this season could swim across the Var in safety, must have been born under a lucky star." He then made a low bow, which I duly returned, and gladly left hia presence. A FEIEND IN NEED. 377 The sudden politeness of the mayor, the friendly, almost playful tone of his last words, formed a pretty strong contrast to his gruff unceremonious manner during the first part of our interview ; and I confess I could iipt help laughing in my sleeve, and inwardly humming Figaxo's song, " AW idea di quelMetalh!" \ During the scene which I have just sketched, and which passed in a room on the ground floor, with open windows looking out on the street, a crowd of persons had gathered round. In the midst of this throng was a customhouse officer, whose physiognomy and gestures showed him to be in a state of great excitement. The few of his ejaculations which I could hear were highly expressive of his indignation at the treatment I had received, and of his sympathy for me. As aoon as I went out this man came up to me, shook me heartily by the hand, and bade me cheer up. We were friends at once. Tenouil (that was his name) was a warm-hearted, good-natured fellow, about fifty years of age ; one of those happily-organized creatures, with whom to be unfortunate and in need of help was the strongest recommendation. He prof- fered me his services with a look and accent which made me feel that the best acknowledgment of his kindness was to ac- cept and make use of it. " First of all," said I, " I want a pair of shoes." " "We will soon get them," answered Fenouil. I expected of course that he would take me to a shop ; but instead of that it was to his own poor little dwelling that we went ; and do or say what I would I was compelled to accept a pair of his own shoes, and to put them on immediately. They were a pair of reddish thick-soled shoes, which certainly did not suit me very well, and yet I liked them better than the- costliest and most irreproachable pair I have ever worn since. I should have been glad to buy a pair of stockings, and some other clothes, but dared not speak of such a thing, lest my naw friend should insist on dressing me in one of his customhouse greatcoats. Being thus provided with what was most indispensable, Fenouil took me to the best public-house in the village, and 378 LORENZO BENONI. while the " Omelette au lard" was preparing, I wrote a few most guarded lines to Alfred — not to his address, however — to make known that I had at last accomplished my escape to France. It was lucky that Eenouil and myself were pro- vided with excellent appetites, otherwise we could not have relished as we did the very fnigal breakfast we partook of together. As I found that the diligence or stage-coach from Nice to Antibes would not pass for another hour, I thought it would be as well to go and dry myself and my still damp garments in the sun on the high road, as to remain chilled in the miser- able room of a miserable tavern. As soon as I reached the road a group of persons assembled round me full of curiosity to hear my adventures, and to get at the details of my passage of the Var. I found, however, that almost all my listeners were incredulous as to my having achieved that feat alone and unassisted. Some, indeed, did not hesitate openly to express that opinion. How could they bring themselves to , believe that I who knew nothing about the river, should not only have ventured but accomplished that which the boldest among the smugglers would shrink from attempting at this season of the year ! Fenouil, surveying these unbelievers with undisguised con- tempt, asked them, if they took the gentleman for a milk-sop : and as I listened to their discussion, I felt a retrospective panic thrill through me at my narrow escape. While we were thus engaged, who should come up smiling and hat in hand, but my persecutor the quartermaster ; he said he had come to congratulate me on my safety, and to beg me to forgive him for the disagreeable part he had been con- strained by his sense of duty to act ; winding up his oration with a request that I would give him gold in exchange for two hundred francs in silver. I complied without hesitation ; but I became really alarmed lest I should be deprived of all my gold, when there came similar applications from two others of the government officers. Fenouil gave me an explanation of this somewhat strange eagerness after gold on the part of the government employes FANTASIO. 379 of Pont Saint Laurent, which I have utterly forgotten. Luckil)'- the arrival of the diligence cut short this new species of traffic. Fenouil wrote in pencil, on a piece of paper, " Fenouil Pierre, prepose des Douanes de la Brigade de St. Laurent, Var." " If a poor customhouse officer can ever be of any use to you," he began, presenting me with the bit of paper — but he could not add another word. I pressed his hand in mine, too much touched by his genuine kindness of heart to be able to speak. " Farewell, farewell !" and the diligence rolled away. God bless thee, poor customhouse officer ; for thy heart would have done honor to a. marshal of France. Thy auto- graph is more precious -to me than were that of the greatest of European celebrities, and I shall keep it religiously to the last day of my life. At Antibes I was able to get myself some stockings and a blouse, thanks to the good landlady of the Hotel de la Poste, who acted the part of a mother to me. What she thought or suspected she kept to herself; and she bathed my torn and bleeding feet, like a true woman, full of ready sympathy and tenderness for suffering, let it come in what shape it would ! My dress, however, must have had something grotesque and droll in its arrangements ; for the next day, when I got down from the coach at Marseille's, my appearance excited a good deal of mirth among the bystanders, one of whom pointing to me, said, " What a smart fellow ! I wager anything he is come to be married. — Parlors qu'il va se marier.". The reception I met with at the Hotel du Midi, where I went for rooms, confirmed me in this belief, and made me sensible of the necessity of providing myself immediately with a less remarkable costume. So I sent forthwith for a hatter and a bootmaker, and also to a warehouse for ready-made clothes. An hour later I was once more dressed as a gentleman. As it happened, the suit that fitted me best was a black one: I looked as if I were in mourning. I made haste to Fantasio, who received me as a friend would a dear, dear friend he had despaired of ever seeing again on 380 . LORENZO BENOUr. this side of the grave. Previous to leaving Grenoa I had con- trived to inform him of my possible arrival at Marseilles with- in a few days ; but as more than a week had elapsed without his seeing me, or receiving any tidings, he had concluded that my attempt at flight had been foiled ; and that I had fallen into the hands of the police. Great therefore was his joy to behold me safe and well ; and great was mine to find myself once more by the side of an affectionate friend. But my joy was soon damped at the sight of the dreadful change that had come over Fantasio's appearance. He looked so pale, so careworn, so haggard — the shadow of himself. " What is the matter with you V said I ; " you look very ill."' " Oh ! nothing at all," stammered Qut Fantasio ; " I have been very uneasy about you, and — —" He stopped. I hes- itated also to speak. At Ijist I said, " Any bad news from home ?" Fantasio at- tempted to reply, but could not, and turned away. " For Heaven's sake," I cried, " do not try to deceive me ; — tell me what has happened. What — of — Caesar 1" Fantasio hid his face and sobbed aloud. I understood it all. Merciful God ! Osesar was no more ! NOTE BY THE EDITOK. Lorenzo's presentiment as to ^lis brother's fate had proved but too true. Nor was Osesar the only one among the reader's acquaintances — the single victim. Poor Sforza had been shot ; the two associates of Vittorio, Miglio was one of them, were also shot. Vadoni was condemned to imprisonment for life. Lazzarino to ten years' solitary confinement in a fortress. The mystery that enveloped Vittorio's fate was not cleared till some months afterward, when it was ascertained that he was at Bologna, a prisoner. To explain: — On the morning THE END. 381 of the day previous to the capture of the chief conspirators, Vittorio was summoned before his colonel, seized on while off his guard, thrown into a post-chaise, and conveyed under es- cort to the frontier of the Roman states, of which he was a native. By this summary, and apparently rigorous proceeding, had the gallant officer contrived, without committing himself too far, to save at least the life of his young subordinate, for whom he was known to entertain a special regard. Count Alberto and Alfred were left unmolested. Adriano Stella, who was absent from home at the time when the arrests- began, took good care to keep out of the way. Many a fine fellow, chiefly among the military, whose name has not appeared in the foregoing pages — Vochieri was one — was shot at Alexandria and Ohambery ; some were confined for life, or for periods varying from ten to twenty years ; a still greater number succeeded in efiecting their escape abroad. 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