Ripperda was gone. Day rolled over day; and the most splendid
preparations continued to be privately made for the betrothment of
Maria Theresa, and the marriage of Otteline; but the Empress had still
to count the hours with impatience, until the ceremonial consent should
arrive.
Meanwhile, the conduct of Louis, in the management of the intricate
affairs confided to him, gained the universal suffrage of the foreign
ministers with whom he conferred; who united in saying, that had he
been the son of the obscurest individual, his talents and strict fair
dealing, would have ensured him every honour that he now received as
the son of Ripperda.
Routemberg, the prime minister, affected to treat him with peculiar
confidence; and he was with him when a packet arrived from his father.
He opened it; and it contained the very dispatches which had been
taken by the robbers from Castanos. The Duke accompanied them with a
few lines, dated from a post-house in Carinthia, saying, that he had
recovered them in a very extraordinary manner, which he should describe
in his first letters from Spain; but he now lost no time in dispatching
them forward to Vienna, under the care of Martini.
Subsequent considerations made Ripperda withhold this adventure; but it
was briefly as follows.
Just as the Spanish suite had passed into the mountainous tracks of
Carinthia, and Ripperda had entered the solitary post-house in the
forest of Clagenfurt, he was followed into his apartment by the master
of the house. The man told him in a mysterious manner, that a person
in a strange foreign habit, had waited for His Excellency some hours
in an upper chamber; and he now requested to speak with the Duke for a
few minutes on a subject of consequence; but that it must be in a room
without light.
Ripperda desired that the person might be told, it was not his custom
to admit strangers to his presence, and never to suffer dictation in
the manner he was to receive them.
In a few seconds the innkeeper returned with a charged pistol, which
he presented to Ripperda, with this message. "The person who sent
that, was as little accustomed to arbitrary decisions as the Duke de
Ripperda. He had matters of moment to impart to him. If he did not
chuse to receive them on the stranger's terms,--well,--and they should
rest with himself; but if he decided otherwise, he must admit the
communication under the obscurity of total darkness. If he suspected
personal danger, he was at liberty to stand on his guard during the
interview, either with his sword or that pistol."
There was something in the boldness of the demand, and the gift of the
pistol, that stimulated the curiosity of Ripperda. He could protect his
life from a single arm; and from a more supported treachery he had an
armed guard in his suite.
Without further hesitation, he told the innkeeper to return the pistol
to him from whom he had brought it; to take the lamp from the room, and
to introduce the stranger.
When the door re-opened, a man was let in, the outline of whose figure
and apparel the Duke caught a glimpse of, in the reflected light from
the outer chamber. The person was tall, seemed in a military garb, by
the clangor of a heavy sword, in an iron scabbard, striking against
the door-post as he approached. But there was a great involvement
of drapery about him; and the black plumage of his head brushed the
door-top, as he stooped and entered. The door closed on his back; and
the twain were in total darkness.
"Your business, Sir?" demanded Ripperda, with a tone of superiority.
"It is to confer an obligation on the proudest man in Christendom,"
returned a hoarse and rough voice, in as lofty a strain. "Ten days
ago your courier was stopped in these mountains, and robbed of his
travelling case. The contents are a padlocked casket and a sealed bag.
It fell in my way; and I restore them to you."
"Brave stranger!" returned Ripperda, "whoever you are, accept my
thanks. Point but the way, and the proudest man in Christendom would
feel himself prouder in being allowed to repay such an obligation."
"I doubt it not," replied the stranger, sarcastically; "but my taste is
not man's gratitude. If it were, I should starve in this generation."
"Try the man on whom you have just conferred this favour! Pardon me,
but by your language, you appear to have been outraged by mankind? Let
me make restitution? I love a brave spirit, and could employ and reward
it."
The stranger laughed scornfully.
"Mine is Esau's birth-right, and I have employed it manfully; witness
this sword!" cried he, striking it down with his hand upon the hilt,
and rattling its steel against the floor; "witness that bag of policy
and riches I despise; which the Duke de Ripperda now holds in his hand
as the gift of an outlaw and an enemy!"
"You are a fearless man," returned the Duke, "and have proved yourself
an honourable one! You know my power. Name the country that has
outlawed you, and I will obtain your pardon. Name the price to make
you my friend, and I will pay it."
"Ripperda," replied the stranger, "I leave that behind, which will
direct you where to find its owner. If you use it wisely, it may be
Ulysses' hauberk; if you reject it, the shirt of Nessus were a cooler
winding-sheet!--Farewell."
Before Ripperda could unclasp his lips to reply, the stranger had
opened the door, and passed through it like a gliding shadow.
The moment he had disappeared, the Duke called for lights, and the
landlord brought them in.
When Ripperda was alone, he examined the case his rugged visitor had
put into his hand. He broke the seals of the bag, in which he found
the key of the casket; and on looking over the contents of both,
missed none of the jewels, whose answering list was amongst the
dispatches. The jewels were a magnificent present from Don Carlos
to the Arch-duchess Maria Theresa; and a necklace, inscribed by the
Queen's own hand for Countess Otteline Altheim; but amongst none of the
papers was there any trace of the expected consent. The present of the
necklace seemed a presumptive proof that Her Majesty did not intend to
withhold it; but, until it was formally given, Ripperda could add no
further sanction from himself. However, to inform the Empress, as soon
as possible, of even this promise of Isabella's acquiescence, he lost
no time in summoning two or three of the young noblemen, who, wearied
of Vienna, had chosen to return with him to Spain. He told them of
his having recovered the dispatches, by the gift of the leader of the
banditti he believed; and of his intention to forward them that night
to Vienna, if they had any commands to send by the messenger he should
dispatch.
Don Baptista Orendayn, who was present, eagerly offered a suggestion
that Martini ought to be the messenger, as the most trusty person; and
Ripperda, pleased with his zeal, having ordered a sufficient suite
to attend whomever he should select, adopted his advice, and saw the
faithful Italian set off on his return to the Austrian capital, just as
the dawn opened behind the farthest mountains.
His equipages were getting ready for the prosecution of his own
journey; and, not having found any letter or memorandum from the
stranger himself, in the case which had held the casket; he was
wondering to what mysterious manner of tracing him he could have
referred, since none certainly had presented itself, when the landlord
entered the apartment; he carried a scarlet mantle in his arms, and
laying it on the table before the Duke.
"My Lord," said he, "the person you saw last night, left this cloak in
the chamber where he waited for you. He told me to bring it to Your
Excellency in the morning."
Ripperda's eye fell upon the mantle,--it was discoloured a dark red
in many places, he nodded his head, and the man withdrew. Ripperda
then took it from the table, supposing a name or a direction might
be affixed to it; but on the ample folds disengaging themselves, he
started with a shudder.--He had seen it before!--It was marked with the
keys of Saint Peter!--It was embroidered on the shoulder with the arms
of Giovenozzo!--It was stained with the blood of Duke Wharton!
Ripperda dropped it from his hand.
"Accursed Wharton!" exclaimed he, now recollecting, in the disguised
tones of the stranger's voice, some notes of the Duke's, "this insult
shall not be pardoned! I am not to be cajoled nor menaced into peace
with you, my most detested, most insolently triumphing enemy. We have
once measured swords!" and his eye glanced on the blood-stained scarf;
"when they next meet, the blow may be surer!"
Wharton's graces of mind, body, and political management, formed the
only character which had ever peered with that of his haughty rival. He
was the only man who had ever foiled Ripperda by secret machination. He
had made him feel that he had an equal, that he might have a superior.
He had discovered that the all-glorious boast of Spain was not exempt
from the infirmities of common men. He had wrought him to commit an
injury, and he had stood between him and the world's cognizance. To
be so humbled in the knowledge of any living being, was the vultures
of Prometheus to the proud heart of Ripperda. Wharton, by the present
action, had declared his triumph,--had presumed to promise, or to
threat! and the hatred of his enemy was now wound up to a height that
could know no declension, till its cause was laid low in the silence
of death.
A wood-fire burnt on the hearth of the room Ripperda occupied. He
thrust the Cardinal's mantle into it, and stood over the smouldering
cloth, till the whole was consumed to ashes.
Comprehending that Wharton must have set his emissaries to way-lay
the Spanish dispatches, merely to afford him the opportunity he had
boasted, of conferring an obligation on his rival, Ripperda assuaged
his enraged thoughts by devising schemes of revenge as he rapidly
pursued his journey towards the seat of his power.
He met with no accident nor obstacle, till on the night of the 25th of
July. The tops of the hills were laden with thunder-clouds, and the
turbid atmosphere laboured with the stifling Sirocco. His long train
of attendants had dispersed themselves amongst the narrow and shelving
roads, which traverse that line of the Appenines, which form the mural
diadem of the gulph of Genoa. Ripperda's equipage wound down a long
and twisting defile between two precipitous rocks. The intricacies and
abrupt turns in the road separated him from his immediate followers. It
was the darkest hour of twilight, when there was just enough of gleam
from the lurid sky, to shew the outline of objects.
As the Duke's carriage turned a jutting cliff, he found it suddenly
stop, and then heard a volley of oaths from his drivers, mingled with
more direful imprecations from strange voices. While he was letting
down the glass to enquire the cause, the lash of whips accompanied the
mutual swearing, and he felt the struggle of his horses to force their
way forward. The next moment a pistol was fired at their head, and a
deep groan shewed it had taken too true an aim. As the window dropped,
Ripperda saw the wounded postilion fall on the neck of his horse. But
he saw no more. The carriage door was instantly opened, and before he
could snatch a pistol from his own belt, he was dragged from the seat
by the collected strength of several arms. Having thrown him upon the
flinty way, one man of colossal bulk, cast himself upon the prostrate
and struggling Duke, and kneeling upon his body, with both his knees,
coolly and determinately put a pistol close to the temple of his
victim. Ripperda had now grasped his own weapon, and with one hand,
striking aside the arm of his antagonist, the pistol went off; where
that ball fell he knew not, but with his other hand, at the same moment
he lodged the contents of his own pistol in the heart of the ruffian.
The wretch tumbled aside, with a convulsive recoil, and was no more.
His comrades, deeming the Duke's destruction sure, were rifling the
carriage, while others were posted at the entrance of the defile, to
prevent a rescue from his attendants. One of them turning round at
the double report of the pistols, and seeing his coadjutor thrown
motionless off the body of Ripperda, who sprang on his legs, alarmed
his fellows, and rushed towards their prey. The Duke saw he must sell
his life dearly, for he was determined never to yield it to such base
assailants, and drawing his sword, set his back against the precipice,
and held them at bay. But the strength of his arm, and the bravery of
his heart could not have defended him long against their determined
attack.
The men, whose poniards his sword parried, had recourse to fire-arms,
and two pistols were fired at him.
"He stands yet!" cried one of the ruffians, "give him another volley."
A volley did sound, and instantly; but it came from the rocks above,
and three of the villains fell. The rest drew back a few paces in
surprise, and in the moment several men jumped from the shelving
precipice to the side of the Duke. The conflict closed, and became
desperate. Ripperda was bleeding fast from the graze of a ball on his
head; and though he assisted his defenders with a resolute heart,
he was nearly fainting. A party of his new friends had cleared the
entrance of the road, for the approach of his followers; and the
discomfited ruffians, foreseeing further contention must end in their
utter destruction, laid hands suddenly on their wounded and dead;
and throwing them over a chasm in the precipice, were presently lost
themselves amongst the bushy recesses of the perpendicular rocks.
The persons who had come thus opportunely to the rescue of Ripperda,
assisted his servants to bind his wound; and to place him, now as
insensible as his lifeless postillion, in the carriage. Martini was on
his mission to Vienna; but another valet was put into the chariot to
support the Duke. The man respectfully enquired of him who appeared the
superior of the group, what name he should say, when his master should
ask for his brave deliverer?
"Some day, I will tell it to him, myself;" returned he, "meanwhile I
shall exchange swords, as a memento of this hour."
He closed the carriage door, and ordered the trembling postilions to
drive on. The valet, calling from the chariot window, implored his
further protection; he nodded his head in acquiescence; and, with his
train, escorted the alarmed party safe through the defile. As it opened
into the champaigne country, the remainder of the suite, under the
leading of Don Baptista Orendayn, approached from another road. At this
sight, the gallant travellers turned their horses' heads, and leaving
Ripperda to his friends, galloped across the plain in an opposite
direction. The Duke had recovered only to a dreamy recollection. But
his medical staff having gone before him to Genoa, when he arrived
there, his wound was properly dressed; and a day's repose left him no
apparent effects of his adventure, but the bandage on his head; and
his regret, that such immediate insensibility had deprived him of the
opportunity of thanking his deliverer. He spoke to Orendayn about his
gallant preserver: but the young Spaniard could give no account of
him; as he was lost among the mountains at the time of the attack. He,
however, informed Ripperda, that while enquiring his way, the Alpine
cottagers had told him of a noted banditti, which prowled in their
neighbourhood in search of prey; and he did not doubt these assailants
were the very troop. He lamented with great bitterness, that the
stupidity of his guides, should have led him so far astray, when his
patron was in danger; and envied those who had come to his rescue,
with many encomiums on their timely valour.
Ripperda was pleased with the exchange of the swords; as the fabrick of
the one which had been left in the place of his, was of a fashion that
proved its owner to be a gentleman, as well as a brave man. Strange as
it may seem, the former citizen of Groningen, had now imbibed so much
of Spanish prejudice, he would have been sorry to have thought that his
eagle-crested rapier, might now be suspended at the side of a man of
ignoble blood, even though the hand that hung it there was that of his
deliverer.
On the morning of Ripperda's recommencing his journey, he put the sword
into his belt. It had once saved his life! And he wore, and wielded it
hereafter, in many a menacing and perilous scene.