towards which he felt himself drawn by a fascination for which he could
not account. Bastiano disappeared, and Nisida's brother, assisted by the
waves, was drawing nearer and nearer to the shore, when, at all once, he
uttered a terrible cry which sounded above the noise of the tempest.
The star had just been extinguished; the lamp had been blown out.
"My sister is dead!" cried Gabriel and, leaping into the sea, he cleft
the waves with the rapidity of lightning.
The storm had redoubled its intensity; long lines of lightning, rending
the sides of the clouds, bathed everything in their tawny and
intermittent light. The fisherman perceived a ladder leaning against the
front of his home, seized it with a convulsive hand, and in three bounds
flung himself into the room. The prince felt himself strangely moved on
making his way into this pure and silent retreat. The calm and gentle
gaze of the Virgin who seemed to be protecting the rest of the sleeping
girl, that perfume of innocence shed around the maidenly couch, that
lamp, open-eyed amid the shadows, like a soul in prayer, had inspired
the seducer with an unknown distress. Irritated by what he called an
absurd cowardice, he had extinguished the obtrusive light, and was
advancing towards the bed, and addressing unspoken reproaches to
himself, when Gabriel swooped upon him with a wounded tiger's fierce
gnashing of the teeth.
Brancaleone, by a bold and rapid movement that showed no common degree
of skill and bravery, while struggling in the grasp of his powerful
adversary, drew forth in his right hand a long dagger with a fine barbed
blade. Gabriel smiled scornfully, snatched the weapon from him, and even
as he stooped to break it across his knee, gave the prince a furious
blow with his head that made him stagger and sent him rolling on the
floor, three paces away; then, leaning over his poor sister and gazing
on her with hungry eyes, by the passing gleam of a flash, "Dead!" he
repeated, wringing his arms in despair,--"dead!"
In the fearful paroxysm that compressed his throat he could find no
other words to assuage his rage or to pour forth his woe. His hair,
which the storm had flattened, rose on his head, the marrow of his bones
was chilled, and he felt his tears rush back upon his heart. It was a
terrible moment; he forgot that the murderer still lived.
The prince, however, whose admirable composure did not for a moment
desert him, had risen, bruised and bleeding. Pale and trembling with
rage, he sought everywhere for a weapon with which to avenge himself.
Gabriel returned towards him gloomier and more ominous than ever, and
grasping his neck with an iron hand, dragged him into the room where the
old man was sleeping.
"Father! father! father!" he cried in a piercing voice, "here is the
Bastard who Has just murdered Nisida!"
The old man, who had drunk but a few drops of the narcotic potion, was
awakened by this cry which echoed through his soul; he arose as though
moved by a spring, flung off his coverings, and with that promptitude of
action that God has bestowed upon mothers in moments of danger, event up
to his daughter's room, found a light, knelt on the edge of the bed, and
began to test his child's pulse and watch her breathing with mortal
anxiety.
All! this had passed in less time than we have taken in telling it.
Brancaleone by an unheard-of effort had freed himself from the hands of
the young fisherman, and suddenly resuming his princely pride, said in a
loud voice, "You shall not kill me without listening to me."
Gabriel would have overwhelmed him with Bitter reproaches, but, unable
to utter a single word, he burst into tears.
"Your sifter is not dead," said the prince, with cold dignity; "she is
merely asleep. You can assure yourself of it, and meanwhile I undertake,
upon my Honour, not to move a single step away."
These words were pronounced with such an accent of truth that the
fisherman was struck by them. An unexpected gleam of hope suddenly
dawned in his thoughts; he cast upon the stranger a glance of hate and
distrust, and muttered in a muffled voice, "Do not flatter yourself, in
any case, that you will be able to escape me."
Then he went up to his sister's room, and approaching the old man, asked
tremblingly, "Well, father?"
Solomon thrust him gently aside with the solicitude of a mother removing
some buzzing insect from her child's cradle, and, making a sign to
enjoin silence, added in a low voice, "She is neither dead nor poisoned.
Some philtre has been given to her for a bad purpose. Her breathing is
even, and she cannot fail to recover from her lethargy."
Gabriel, reassured about Nisida's life, returned silently to the ground
floor where he had left the seducer. His manner was grave and gloomy; he
was coming now not to rend the murderer of his sister with his hands,
but to elucidate a treacherous and infamous mystery, and to avenge his
honour which had been basely attacked. He opened wide the double
entrance door that admitted daylight to the apartment in which, on the
few nights that he spent at home, he was accustomed to sleep with his
father. The rain had just stopped, a ray of moonlight pierced the
clouds, and all at once made its way into the room. The fisherman
adjusted his dripping garments, walked towards the stranger, who awaited
him without stirring, and after having gazed upon him haughtily, said,
"Now you are going to explain your presence in our house."
"I confess," said the prince, in an easy tone and with the most insolent
assurance, "that appearances are against me. It is the fate of lovers to
be treated as thieves. But although I have not the advantage of being
known to you, I am betrothed to the fair Nisida--with your father's
approval, of course. Now, as I have the misfortune to possess very
hardhearted parents, they have had the cruelty to refuse me their
consent. Love led me astray, and I was about to be guilty of a fault for
which a young man like you ought to have some indulgence. Furthermore,
it was nothing but a mere attempt at an abduction, with the best
intentions in the world, I swear, and I am ready to atone for everything
if you will agree to give me your hand and call me your brother."
"I will agree to call you a coward and a betrayer!" replied Gabriel,
whose face had begun to glow, as he heard his sister spoken of with such
impudent levity. "If it is thus that insults are avenged in towns, we
fishers have a different plan. Ah! so you flattered yourself with the
thought of bringing desolation aid disgrace into our home, and of paying
infamous assassins to come and share an old man's bread so as to poison
his daughter, of stealing by night, like a brigand, armed with a dagger,
into my sister's room, and of being let off by marrying the most
beautiful woman in the kingdom!"
The prince made a movement.
"Listen," continued Gabriel: "I could break you as I broke your dagger
just now; but I have pity on you. I see that you can do nothing with
your hands, neither defend yourself nor work. Go, I begin to understand;
you are a braggart, my fine sir; your poverty is usurped; you have
decked yourself in these poor clothes, but you are unworthy of them."
He suffered a glance of crushing contempt to fall upon the prince, then
going to a cupboard hidden in the wall, he drew out a rifle and an axe.
"Here," said he, "are all the weapons in the house; choose."
A flash of joy illuminated the countenance of the prince, who had
hitherto suppressed his rage. He seized the rifle eagerly, drew three
steps backward, and drawing himself up to his full height, said, "You
would have done better to lend me this weapon at the beginning; for then
I would have been spared from witnessing your silly vapourings and
frantic convulsions. Thanks, young-man; one of my servants will bring
you back your gun. Farewell."
And he threw him his purse, which fell heavily at the fisherman's feet.
"I lent you that rifle to fight with me," cried Gabriel, whom surprise
had rooted to the spot.
"Move aside, my lad; you are out of your senses," said the prince,
taking a step towards the door.
"So you refuse to defend yourself?" asked Gabriel in a determined voice.
"I have told you already that I cannot fight with you."
"Why not?"
"Because such is the will of God; because you were born to crawl and I
to trample you under my feet; because all the blood that I could shed in
this island would not purchase one drop of my blood; because a thousand
lives of wretches like you are not equal to one hour of mine; because
you will kneel at my name that I, am now going to utter; because, in
short, you are but a poor fisherman and my name is Prince of
Brancaleone."
At this dreaded name, which the young nobleman flung, like a
thunderbolt, at his head, the fisherman bounded like a lion. He drew a
deep breath, as though he had lifted a weight that had long rested on
his heart.
"Ah!" he cried, "you have given yourself into my hands, my lord! Between
the poor fisherman and the all-powerful prince there is a debt of blood.
You shall pay for yourself and for your father. We are going to settle
our accounts, your excellency," he added, rising his axe over the head
of the prince, who was aiming at him. "Oh! you were in too great haste
to choose: the rifle is not loaded." The prince turned pale.
"Between our two families," Gabriel continued, "there exists a horrible
secret which my mother confided to me on the brink of the grave, of
which my father himself is unaware, and that no man in the world must
learn. You are different, you are going to die."
He dragged him into the space outside the house.
"Do you know why my sister, whom you wished to dishonour, was vowed to
the Madonna? Because your father, like you, wished to dishonour my
mother. In your accursed house there is a tradition of infamy. You do
not know what slow and terrible torments my poor mother endured-torments
that broke her strength and caused her to die in early youth, and that
her angelic soul dared confide to none but her son in that supreme hour
and in order to bid me watch over my sister."
The fisherman wiped away a burning tear. "One day, before we were born,
a fine lady, richly dressed, landed in our island from a splendid boat;
she asked to see my mother, who was as young and beautiful as my Nisida
is to-day. She could not cease from admiring her; she blamed the
blindness of fate which had buried this lovely jewel in the bosom of an
obscure island; she showered praises, caresses, and gifts upon my
mother, and after many indirect speeches, finally asked her parents for
her, that she might make her her lady-in-waiting. The poor people,
foreseeing in the protection of so great a lady a brilliant future for
their daughter, were weak enough to yield. That lady was your mother;
and do you know why she came thus to seek that poor innocent maiden?
Because your mother had a lover, and because she wished to make sure, in
this infamous manner, of the prince's indulgence."
"Silence, wretch!"
"Oh, your excellency will hear me out. At the beginning, my poor mother
found herself surrounded by the tenderest care: the princess could not
be parted from her for a moment; the most flattering words, the finest
clothes, the richest ornaments were hers; the servants paid her as much
respect as though she were a daughter of the house. When her parents
went to see her and to inquire whether she did not at all regret having
left them, they found her so lovely and so happy, that they blessed the
princess as a good angel sent them from God. Then the prince conceived a
remarkable affection for my mother; little by little his manners became
more familiar and affectionate. At last the princess went away for a few
days, regretting that she could not take with her her dear child, as she
called her. Then the prince's brutality knew no further barriers; he no
longer concealed his shameful plans of seduction; he spread before the
poor girl's eyes pearl necklaces and caskets of diamonds; he passed from
the most glowing passion to the blackest fury, from the humblest prayers
to the most horrible threats. The poor child was shut up in a cellar
where there was hardly a gleam of daylight, and every morning a
frightful gaoler came and threw her a bit of black bread, repeating with
oaths that it only depended upon herself to alter all this by becoming
the prince's mistress. This cruelty continued for two years. The
princess had gone on a long journey, and my mother's poor parents
believed that their daughter was still happy with her protectress. On
her return, having; no doubt fresh sins for which she needed
forgiveness, she took my mother from her dungeon, assumed the liveliest
indignation at this horrible treatment, about which she appeared to have
known nothing, wiped her tears, and by an abominable refinement of
perfidy received the thanks of the victim whom she was about to
sacrifice.
"One evening--I have just finished, my lord--the princess chose to sup
alone with her lady-in-waiting: the rarest fruits, the most exquisite
dishes, and the most delicate wines were served to my poor mother, whose
prolonged privations had injured her health and weakened her reason; she
gave way to a morbid gaiety. Diabolical philtres were poured into her
cup; that is another tradition in your family. My mother felt uplifted,
her eyes shone with feverish brilliance, her cheeks were on fire. Then
the prince came in--oh! your excellency will see that God protects the
poor. My darling mother, like a frightened dove, sheltered herself in
the bosom of the princess, who pushed her away, laughing. The poor
distraught girl, trembling, weeping, knelt down in the midst of that
infamous room. It was St. Anne's Day; all at once the house shook, the
walls cracked, cries of distress rang out in the streets. My mother was
saved. It was the earthquake that destroyed half Naples. You know all
about it, my lord, since your old palace is no longer habitable."
"What are you driving at?" cried Brancaleone in terrible agitation.
"Oh, I merely wish to persuade you that you must fight with me,"
answered the fisherman coldly, as he offered him a cartridge. "And now,"
he added, in an excited tone, "say your prayers, my lord; for I warn
you, you will die by my hand; justice must be done."
The prince carefully examined the powder and shot, made sure that his
rifle was in good condition; loaded it, and, eager to make an end, took
aim at the fisherman; but, either because he had been so much disturbed
by his opponent's terrible tale, or, because the grass was wet from the
storm, at the moment when he put forward his left foot to steady his
shot, he slipped, lost his balance and fell on one knee. He fired into
the air.
"That does not count, my lord," cried Gabriel instantly, and handed him
a second charge.
At the noise of the report Solomon had appeared at the window, and,
understanding what was going on, had lifted his hands to heaven, in
order to address to God a dumb and fervent prayer. Eligi uttered a
frightful inprecation, and hastily reloaded his rifle; but, struck by
the calm confidence of the young man, who stood motionless before him,
and by the old man, who, impassive and undisturbed, seemed to be
conjuring God in the name of a father's authority, disconcerted by his
fall, his knees shaking and his arm jarred, he felt the chills of death
running in his veins. Attempting, nevertheless, to master his emotion,
he took aim a second time; the bullet whistled by the fisherman's ear
and buried itself in the stem of a poplar.
The prince, with the energy of despair, seized the barrel of his weapon
in both hands; but Gabriel was coming forward with his axe, a terrible
foe, and his first stroke carried away the butt of the rifle. He was
still hesitating, however, to kill a defenceless man, when two armed
servants appeared at the end of the pathway. Gabriel did not see them
coming; but at the moment when they would have seized him by the
shoulders, Solomon uttered a cry and rushed to his son's assistance.
"Help, Numa! help, Bonaroux! Death to the ruffians! They want to murder
me."
"You lie, Prince of Brancaleone!" cried Gabriel, and with one blow of
the axe he cleft his skull.
The two bravoes who were coming to their master's assistance, when they
saw him fall, took flight; Solomon and his son went up to Nisida's room.
The young girl had just shaken off her heavy slumber; a slight
perspiration moistened her brow, and she opened her eyes slowly to the
dawning day.
"Why are you looking at me in that way, father?" she said, her mind
still wandering a littler and she passed her hand over her forehead.
The old man embraced her tenderly.
"You have just passed through a great danger, my poor Nisida," said he;
"arise, and let us give thanks to the Madonna."
Then all three, kneeling before the sacred image of the Virgin, began to
recite litanies. But at that very instant a noise of arms sounded in the
enclosure, the house was surrounded by soldiers, and a lieutenant of
gendarmes, seizing Gabriel, said in a loud voice, "In the name of the
law, I arrest you for the murder that you have just committed upon the
person of his excellency and illustrious lordship, the Prince of
Brancaleone."
Nisida, struck by these words, remained pale and motionless like a
marble statue kneeling on a tomb; Gabriel was already preparing to make
an unreasoning resistance, when a gesture from his father stopped him.
"Signor tenente," said the old man, addressing himself to the officer,
"my son killed the prince in lawful defence, for the latter had scaled
our house and made his way in at night and with arms in his hand. The
proofs are before your eyes. Here is a ladder set up against the window;
and here," he proceeded, picking up the two pieces of the broken blade,
"is a dagger with the Brancaleone arms. However, we do not refuse to
follow you."
The last words of the fisherman were drowned by cries of "Down with the
sbirri! down with the gendarmes!" which were repeated in every
direction. The whole island was up in arms, and the fisher-folk would
have suffered themselves to be cut up to the last man before allowing a
single hair of Solomon or of his son to be touched; but the old man
appeared upon his threshold, and, stretching out his arm with a calm and
grave movement that quieted the anger of the crowd, he said, "Thanks, my
children; the law must be respected. I shall be able, alone, to defend
the innocence of my son before the judges."
Hardly three months have elapsed since the day upon which we first
beheld the old fisherman of Nisida sitting before the door of his
dwelling, irradiated by all the happiness that he had succeeded in
creating around him, reigning like a king, on his throne of rock, and
blessing his two children, the most beautiful creatures in the island.
Now the whole existence of this man, who was once so happy and so much
envied, is changed. The smiling cottage, that hung over the gulf like a
swan over a transparent lake, is sad and desolate; the little enclosure,
with its hedges of lilac and hawthorn, where joyous groups used to come
and sit at the close of day, is silent and deserted. No human sound
dares to trouble the mourning of this saddened solitude. Only towards
evening the waves of the sea, compassionating such great misfortunes,
come to murmur plaintive notes upon the beach.
Gabriel has been condemned. The news of the high-born Prince of
Brancaleone's death, so young, so handsome, and so universally adored,
not only fluttered the aristocracy of Naples, but excited profound
indignation in all classes of people. He was mourned by everybody, and a
unanimous cry for vengeance was raised against the murderer.
The authorities opened the inquiry with alarming promptness. The
magistrates whom their office called to judge this deplorable affair
displayed, however, the most irreproachable integrity. No consideration
outside their duty, no deference due to so noble and powerful a family,
could shake the convictions of their conscience. History has kept a
record of this memorable trial; and has, no reproach to make to men
which does not apply equally to the imperfection of human laws. The
appearance of things, that fatal contradiction which the genius of evil
so often here on earth gives to truth, overwhelmed the poor fisherman
with the most evident proofs.