THE NEW LAZARUS.
For the first time during the week I had a good night's rest, for ever
since my adventure the events in connection therewith had succeeded
one another so rapidly that my brain was kept in too active a state to
admit of slumber, but now that everything seemed to be at an end, that
the antidote had been found, and that Pallanza would be restored to
Bianca Angello, my mind was relieved of the strain upon it, and I
slept soundly till morning. In fact, I did not waken till nearly
eleven o'clock, and having taken my bath I dressed myself slowly, made
a good meal at midday, and altogether felt better than I had done for
the last week.
As my appointment with Beltrami was for half-past two I did not go to
Casa Angello for my usual singing lesson, not wishing to see the
Signorina until I could tell her the good news that her lover was
alive and well. It was true Beltrami had asserted that the antidote
would awaken the young man from his death-like slumber, but
remembering that he had now been in this state of catalepsy for nearly
a week, I felt doubtful as to the success of the experiment. However,
a few hours would now decide the fate of Pallanza for life or death,
and in the event of the antidote acting according to the expectations
of the Marchese, I promised myself I should be the first to carry the
joyful news of this wonderful resurrection to the Signorina Bianca.
When two o'clock struck I could no longer restrain my impatience, but
set off without further delay to see Beltrami at his apartments. He
had just returned from the barracks, and was taking some biscuits and
wine when I was announced, but jumped up when he saw me and came
forward with outstretched hand,--
"Eh! mon ami, I am delighted to see you! Sit down, while I finish this
small meal. Will you have a glass of wine?"
"No, thank you, Marchese!"
"Then take a cigarette, there are some on that table."
The Marchese returned to his wine and biscuits, while I lighted a
cigarette, and lay down On the sofa.
"Excuse me lying down, Luigi, but our last night's experience has
knocked me up terribly."
"You would never do for a soldier, Signor Hugo! I've been drilling
some stupid recruits all the morning, and I feel perfectly fresh.
Ecco! I'm glad to see you, however, as I have some news to tell you."
"About Pallanza?"
"Eh? No! About Madame Morone."
"Ah! she has found out we were at the vault?"
"Dame! not a bit of it. She left Verona by the five o'clock train last
night."
"Left Verona!" I cried, rising hastily from my recumbent position.
"Why has she gone away?"
"Eh! who knows?" replied Beltrami, shrugging his shoulders. "She
didn't even leave a message for me, her promised husband. I think,
myself, the empty pillar of yesterday startled her. She evidently
thought everything was discovered, therefore has gone to Rome so that
she Can appeal to the King in case of trouble."
"And what are you going to do, Marchese?"
"The best thing I can do under the circumstances. I have applied for,
and obtained, leave of absence, so I will give this infernal tenor the
antidote to-day, and start for Rome by the night train."
"But when you arrive at Rome?"
"I will see Madame Morone, and tell her that I removed the body of
Pallanza from the pillar."
"The body, Beltrami! You forget Pallanza is alive!"
"Of course he is, but I'm not going to tell her that. Cospetto! if she
discovered that this devil of a tenor was still in existence my power
over her would be gone, and she would not marry me. Ecco!"
"But as Pallanza will sing again, she is bound to find it out sooner
or later."
"Eh! no doubt, Signor Hugo; but by the time she finds out I hope to be
married. In that case it does not matter. Besides, I am going to make
Pallanza promise not to sing anywhere for a month."
"Suppose he refuses?"
"He won't refuse. Dame! he owes me something for bringing him into
existence again."
"And what about the doctor?"
"He will soon be here," said Beltrami, glancing at his watch; "I
expect him every minute."
"Will he keep this affair quiet?"
"Per Bacco! I should think so, mon ami. I ascertained that before I
told him anything. Not that I told him much, ma foi, no! I invented a
delightful story about Pallanza, which he swallowed as easily as I do
this wine."
"And the story?"
"I have not the time to tell it to you, but it is a beautiful story,
worthy of Boccaccio. Oh, he will keep his mouth shut, I promise you,
Hugo. He is a great friend of mine, and I never associate with those
who talk of other people's business."
"Have you the antidote, Marchese?"
"Here it is," said Beltrami, rising and taking the small bottle from
his desk near the window; "and, ma foi! here is the doctor coming up
the street."
"How fond you are of French," I remarked, laughingly. "Parisian
ejaculations are never out of your mouth."
"One must ejaculate in some language, Hugo, and I've been so often in
Paris that I've got into the trick in some way."
"What about London?"
"Your city of fogs! Eh! You know I cannot master your tongue, Signor
Hugo. 'You are a beautiful mees; I loove you'--Dio! what a difficulty
I had in learning those two sentences."
"Which are perfectly useless."
"I have not found them so. But here is Signor Avenza, the doctor I
spoke of. Good-day, for the second time, my friend. Permit me to
introduce Signor Hugo Cranston, an Englishman."
The doctor, a fat little man with a round smiling face and two
twinkling black eyes, executed an elaborate bow, for which purpose he
brought his feet smartly together in military fashion, and, having
thus saluted me, rashly entered into a contest with the English
language, which vanquished him at once.
"I spik Inglis," he said, mincingly. Then, with a gigantic effort, "Gif
me your tongue! Ah! he is bad. Dis writing is your cure. Goot-day! I
vil taake a leetle valk wis you agin."
Signor Avenza had evidently learned these choice English phrases for
the purposes of his profession.
While this lesson in philology was going on the Marchese had opened
the door leading into the room where Pallanza was concealed, and
called to us to enter. Both the doctor and myself, obeying the
summons, went through the bedroom, and soon found ourselves by the
couch, whereon lay the still form of the young man, with that terrible
death-in-life look on his white face.
"See, Avenza, this is what I spoke about," said Beltrami, holding up a
small phial filled with a red liquid. "It is the antidote to the
poison which this Pallanza was foolish enough to take."
"And all through a love disappointment," replied Avenza, lifting his
eyes. "Ah! the poor young man!"
I now began to see the kind of story Beltrami had told Avenza to
account for the condition of Pallanza, and I must say it did credit to
his powers of invention.
"The amount of the poison he took was ten drops." went on Beltrami,
uncorking the bottle, "so it will require ten drops of this antidote
to revive him, but when the life is once more in him I suppose he will
be weak."
"Most certainly," answered Avenza, nodding his head, "since you say
he has been like this for nearly a week. But proceed, Marchese, I am
anxious to see the result of this antidote."
Beltrami bent over the face of the unconscious man, and forced the
teeth slightly apart with a spoon he held in his left hand. Having
done this, he poised the bottle over the pale lips, and began to pour
the red liquid drop by drop into the mouth.
Both Avenza and myself bent forward eagerly to watch the operation,
and held our breaths with anxiety as the Marchese counted, slowly,--
"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten!"
The body made no movement, and Beltrami drew back, looking somewhat
anxious.
"Dio! I am afraid ten drops are not enough!"
"Wait," said Avenza, taking his watch out of his pocket, and placing
his fingers on the pulse of the seemingly-dead man. "You cannot expect
this antidote to act at once."
The minutes passed slowly, and we all three remained with our eyes
eagerly watching for some sign of life on that still face, while
Avenza occasionally glanced at his chronometer.
"His pulse beats," he said at length in a low voice, "faintly, it is
true, but still it beats."
I heaved a sigh of relief, but Beltrami remained silently looking at
the face of Pallanza with an anxious frown.
"She cannot have given him fifteen," he muttered under his breath, "if
So, he would have been dead by this time; but his pulse beats, so
he is alive."
He looked irresolutely at the phial in his hand, and then turned to
Avenza, who Was still counting the feeble pulsation of the blood.
"Doctor, I will give him three more drops!"
"Eh! and why not?" replied Avenza, raising his eye-brows; "as that is
an antidote a few drops more or less cannot kill him after the dose of
poison he has taken."
The Marchese made no further remark, but, bending forward again, he
held the phial over the half-open mouth for the second time.
"One, two, three!"
This time the effect was magical; for after an interval of about two
or three minutes, we saw a shudder run through the rigid body, the
left arm jerked upward in a spasmodic manner, the face flushed crimson
with the rush of blood once more flowing freely through the arteries,
and at last the heavy eyelids lifted slowly. Pallanza gazed at us with
a dazed, unseeing expression, then some tremendous force seemed to
take possession of the body, for a spasm of pain passed over his face,
a choking cry issued from his lips, and in a moment he was shrieking,
writhing, twisting, rolling and plunging about the bed like a
demoniac. All the nerves and muscles which had been dead and inert for
so many days were now waking again to life, and the agony which racked
his frame from head to foot must have been truly terrible. Both
Beltrami and myself made a step forward to hold down this agonized
body, but Avenza stopped us.
"The antidote is doing its work," he said rapidly; "the dead body is
renewing its life throughout every particle. Wait! wait! the paroxysm
will soon pass away."
The doctor was right, for in a short time the writhing stopped, the
cries grew fainter, and at last, with a heavy sigh, the young man sank
back on the pillows in a state of exhaustion, on seeing which, both
Beltrami and the doctor ran out of the room to get some brandy,
leaving me alone with this new Lazarus. During their absence he opened
his eyes, to which the light of sanity had now returned, and spoke in
a feeble voice,--
"Where am I?"
"With friends."
"And the Contessa?"
"She is not here! You are quite safe! Hush! do not speak, I beg of
you."
Pallanza gave me a look of gratitude, then, closing his eyes, relapsed
into silence. Avenza returned with a glass of weak brandy and water,
which he gave to the young man in spoonfuls, 'while I went back into
the sitting-room to see Beltrami, whom I found standing by the window
with a frown on his face.
"Ebbene?" he asked, turning round.
"He is much better, and I think will soon be all right."
"That's a blessing. But what a nuisance! I want to go to Rome to-night
by the five o'clock train, but Avenza tells me that Pallanza will have
to sleep for a few hours, so I won't have an opportunity of speaking
to him."
"Go with a light heart, my dear Beltrami; I will arrange everything."
"You will?"
"Yes; Pallanza can sleep in that room for an hour or two, then I will
get a fiacre and take him to his lodgings. No one shall come near him
but myself, and when he is quite sensible I will make him promise all
you want."
"Bene! you are a good friend, my dear Hugo," said the Marchese, in a
tone of relief; "but do you think he will do what you ask?"
"Most certainly! I can force him to obey me."
"How so?"
"By threatening to tell Signorina Angello about his affair with Madame
Morone. She knows nothing as yet, and Pallanza is afraid of her
knowing. Witness the lie he told about that note at the Ezzelino,
asking him to come to the Palazzo!"
Beltrami, with his cynical estimate of the Contessa's character, was
not at all disturbed by this somewhat blunt speech, but laughed
cheerfully.
"Eh! Hugo. I think I will make you. Italian after all. Your plan is a
good one, mon ami, so make Pallanza promise not to sing anywhere for a
month, to leave Verona and keep quiet. By that time I will be married
to the Contessa, and all will be well."
"I will arrange everything as you desire, Luigi."
"Excellent! Then that trouble is off my mind."
At this moment the doctor entered, rubbing his fat hands together with
an expression of glee.
"Eh, he sleeps, this young man," he said in a satisfied tone, "he
will sleep for one, two, three hours, then, if you like, Marchese, you
can send him to his own house."
"Signor Hugo will attend to all that, Avenza."
"Bene! Well, Marchese, à revederci! And you, Signor."
"Wait a moment, Signor Avenza; I am coming too."
"Where are you going! Hugo?" asked Beltrami, looking at me in some
surprise, and nodding his head in the direction of Pallanza. I crossed
over to him, and while Avenza was getting his hat, whispered in his
ear,--
"I am going to the Ezzelino to find out Pallanza's address, so as to
know where to take him."
"Ah! a good idea! I will wait here till you return."
I accompanied Signor Avenza to the Piazza Vittorio Emanuele, where we
parted. I then went to the Teatro Ezzelino and found out Pallanza's
address from the stage-door keeper. While I was returning to
Beltrami's rooms I saw Peppino, and arranged with him to be at the Via
Cartoni at seven o'clock that evening to take a sick gentleman away.
At first Peppino objected, being, like all Italians, terribly afraid
of disease, but I soon quieted his objections, and he promised to call
as directed.
On returning to Beltrami I found him packing up, and at five o'clock
he took his departure for Rome, promising to write me immediately he
arrived, and in return I assured him I would let him know everything
as soon as I arranged matters with Pallanza.
That young man slept until nearly seven, when he woke up and began to
ask me questions as to where he was. I insisted upon his keeping
quiet, telling him I was a doctor, and when Peppino arrived with his
fiacre I wrapped him up in his cloak so as to hide his stage costume,
and helped him downstairs to the carriage. We soon arrived at his
lodgings, where, dismissing Peppino, I made Pallanza go to bed at
once, and gave him a light supper, together with some weak brandy and
water. After this he fell asleep, and I sat watching by his bed all
night, wondering why I was such a fool as to do all this for a cynical
man of the world like Beltrami, who would probably laugh at my good
nature when all was over. Yet there was something about Luigi Beltrami
which I liked; and in spite of his affected cynicism and his
extraordinarily loose notions of right and wrong, I believe that he
had a sincere regard for me, which regard I considered not the least
curious part of his whimsical nature, seeing that my character was the
antithesis of his own in every way. Perhaps it was by the law of
contrast, or illustrated inversely the saying that "like draws to
like;" but whatever was the reason, though we had nothing in common
either in nationality or character, yet we were friends, and I leave
this problem to be worked out by those who deny that such an enigma
can exist.