Ugo and Zastrozzi proceeded along the heath, on the skirts of which
stood the cottage. Verezzi leaned against the casement, when a low
voice, which floated in indistinct murmurs on the silence of the
evening, reached his ear. He listened attentively. He looked into
the darkness, and saw the towering form of Zastrozzi, and Ugo, whose
awkward, ruffian-like gait could never be mistaken. He could not
hear their discourse, except a few detached words which reached his
ears. They seemed to be denunciations of anger: a low tone afterwards
succeeded, and it appeared as if a dispute, which had arisen between
them, was settled: their voices at last died away in distance.
Bernardo now left the room. Bianca entered; but Verezzi plainly heard
Bernardo lingering at the door.
The old woman continued sitting in silence at a remote corner of the
chamber. It was Verezzi’s hour for supper: he desired Bianca to bring
it. She obeyed, and brought some dried raisins in a plate. He was
surprised to see a knife was likewise brought; an indulgence he imputed
to the inadvertency of the old woman. A thought started across his
mind--it was now time to escape.
He seized the knife--he looked expressively at the old woman--she
trembled. He advanced from the casement to the door: he called for
Bernardo--Bernardo entered, and Verezzi, lifting his arm high, aimed
a knife at the villain’s heart. Bernardo started aside, and the knife
was fixed firmly in the door-case. Verezzi attempted by one effort to
extricate it. The effort was vain. Bianca, as fast as her tottering
limbs could carry her, hastened through the opposite door, calling
loudly for Zastrozzi.
Verezzi attempted to rush through the open door, but Bernardo opposed
himself to it. A long and violent contest ensued, and Bernardo’s
superior strength was on the point of overcoming Verezzi, when the
latter, by a dexterous blow, precipitated him down the steep and narrow
staircase.
Not waiting to see the event of his victory, he rushed through the
opposite door, and meeting with no opposition, ran swiftly across the
heath.
The moon, in tranquil majesty, hung high in air, and showed the immense
extent of the plain before him. He continued rapidly advancing, and the
cottage was soon out of sight. He thought that he heard Zastrozzi’s
voice in every gale. Turning round, he thought Zastrozzi’s eye glanced
over his shoulder. But even had Bianca taken the right road, and found
Zastrozzi, Verezzi’s speed would have mocked pursuit.
He ran several miles, still the dreary extent of the heath was before
him: no cottage yet appeared, where he might take shelter. He cast
himself for an instant on the bank of a rivulet, which stole slowly
across the heath. The moonbeam played upon its surface--he started at
his own reflected image--he thought that voices were wafted on the
western gale, and, nerved anew, pursued his course across the plain.
The moon had gained the zenith before Verezzi rested again. Two
pine-trees, of extraordinary size, stood on a small eminence: he
climbed one, and found a convenient seat in its immense branches.
Fatigued, he sank to sleep.
Two hours he lay hushed in oblivion, when he was awakened by a noise.
It is but the hooting of the night-raven, thought he.
Day had not yet appeared, but faint streaks in the east presaged the
coming morn. Verezzi heard the clattering of hoofs. What was his horror
to see that Zastrozzi, Bernardo, and Ugo, were the horsemen! Overcome
by terror, he clung to the rugged branch. His persecutors advanced to
the spot--they stopped under the tree wherein he was.
“Eternal curses,” exclaimed Zastrozzi, “upon Verezzi! I swear never to
rest until I find him, and then I will accomplish the purpose of my
soul. But come, Ugo, Bernardo, let us proceed.”
“Signor,” said Ugo, “let us the rather stop here to refresh ourselves
and our horses. You, perhaps, will not make this pine your couch, but I
will get up, for I think I spy an excellent bed above there.”
“No, no,” answered Zastrozzi; “did not I resolve never to rest until I
had found Verezzi? Mount, villain, or die.”
Ugo sullenly obeyed. They galloped off and were quickly out of sight.
Verezzi returned thanks to Heaven for his escape; for he thought that
Ugo’s eye, as the villain pointed to the branch where he reposed, met
his.
It was now morning. Verezzi surveyed the heath, and thought he saw
buildings at a distance. Could he gain a town or city, he might defy
Zastrozzi’s power.
He descended the pine-tree, and advanced as quickly as he could towards
the distant buildings. He proceeded across the heath for half an hour,
and perceived that, at last, he had arrived at its termination.
The country assumed a new aspect, and the number of cottages and villas
showed him that he was in the neighbourhood of some city. A large road
which he now entered confirmed his opinion. He saw two peasants, and
asked them where the road led,--“To Passau,” was the answer.
It was yet very early in the morning, when he walked through the
principal street of Passau. He felt very faint with his recent and
unusual exertions; and, overcome by languor, sank on some lofty stone
steps, which led to a magnificent mansion, and, resting his head on
his arm, soon fell asleep.
He had been there nearly an hour, when he was awakened by an old
woman. She had a basket on her arm, in which were flowers, which it
was her custom to bring to Passau every market-day. Hardly knowing
where he was, he answered the old woman’s inquiries in a vague and
unsatisfactory manner. By degrees, however, they became better
acquainted; and, as Verezzi had no money, nor any means of procuring
it, he accepted of an offer which Claudine (for that was the old
woman’s name) made him, to work for her, and share her cottage, which,
together with a little garden, was all she could call her own. Claudine
quickly disposed of her flowers, and, accompanied by Verezzi, soon
arrived at a little cottage near Passau. It was situated on a pleasant
and cultivated spot; at the foot of a small eminence, on which it was
situated, flowed the majestic Danube, and on the opposite side was a
forest belonging to the Baron of Schwepper, whose vassal Claudine was.
Her little cottage was kept extremely neat; and, by the charity of the
Baron, wanted none of those little comforts which old age requires.
Verezzi thought that, in so retired a spot, he might at least pass his
time tranquilly, and elude Zastrozzi.
“What induced you,” said he to Claudine, as in the evening they sat
before the cottage door, “what induced you to make that offer this
morning to me?”
“Ah!” said the old woman, “it was but last week that I lost my dear
son, who was everything to me; he died by a fever which he caught by
his too great exertions in obtaining a livelihood for me; and I came to
the market yesterday, for the first time since my son’s death, hoping
to find some peasant who would fill his place, when chance threw you in
my way.
“I had hoped that he would have outlived me, as I am quickly hastening
to the grave, to which I look forward as to the coming of a friend, who
would relieve me from those cares which, alas! but increase with my
years.”
Verezzi’s heart was touched with compassion for the forlorn situation
of Claudine. He tenderly told her that he would not forsake her; but if
any opportunity occurred for ameliorating her situation, she should no
longer continue in poverty.