Night had just closed in over the Lake of Como; and if the character
of the scene in daylight had been such as to suggest ideas of dramatic
effect, still more was this the case as darkness wrapped the whole
landscape, leaving the great Alps barely traceable against the starry
sky, while faintly glimmering lights dotted the dark shores from villa
and palace, and soft sounds of music floated lazily on the night air,
only broken by the plashing stroke of some gondolier as he stole across
the lake.
The Villa d'Este was a-glitter with light. The great saloon which opened
on the water blazed with lamps; the terraces were illuminated with
many-colored lanterns; solitary candles glimmered from the windows
of many a lonely chamber; and even through the dark copses and leafy
parterres some lamp twinkled, to show the path to those who preferred
the scented night air to the crowded and brilliant assemblage within
doors. The votaries of hydropathy are rarely victims of grave
malady. They are generally either the exhausted sons and daughters of
fashionable dissipation, the worn-out denizens of great cities, or
the tired slaves of exciting professions,--the men of politics, of
literature, or of law. To such as these, a life of easy indolence, the
absence of all constraint, the freedom which comes of mixing with a
society where not one face is known to them, are the chief charms; and,
with that, the privilege of condescending to amusements and intimacies
of which, in their more regular course of life, they had not even
stooped to partake. To English people this latter element was no
inconsiderable feature of pleasure. Strictly defined as all the ranks of
society are in their own country,--marshalled in classes so rigidly that
none may move out of the place to which birth has assigned him,--they
feel a certain expansion in this novel liberty, perhaps the one sole
new sensation of which their natures are susceptible. It was in the
enjoyment of this freedom that a considerable party were now assembled
in the great saloons of the villa. There were Russians and Austrians
of high rank, conspicuous for their quiet and stately courtesy; a noisy
Frenchman or two; a few pale, thoughtful-looking Italians, men whose
noble foreheads seem to promise so much, but whose actual lives appear
to evidence so little; a crowd of Americans, as distinctive and as
marked as though theirs had been a nationality stamped with centuries of
transmission; and, lastly, there were the English, already presented
to our reader in an early chapter,--Lady Lackington and her friend Lady
Grace,--having, in a caprice of a moment, descended to see “what the
whole thing was like.”
[Illustration: 98]
“No presentations, my Lord, none whatever,” said Lady Lackington, as
she arranged the folds of her dress, on assuming a very distinguished
position in the room. “We have only come for a few minutes, and don't
mean to make acquaintances.”
“Who is the little pale woman with the turquoise ornaments?” asked Lady
Grace.
“The Princess Labanoff,” said his Lordship, blandly bowing.
“Not she who was suspected of having poisoned--”
“The same.”
“I should like to know her. And the man,--who is that tall, dark man,
with the high forehead?”
“Glumthal, the great Frankfort millionnaire.”
“Oh, present him, by all means. Let us have him here,” said Lady
Lackington, eagerly. “What does that little man mean by smirking in that
fashion,--who is he?” asked she, as Mr. O'Reilly passed and repassed
before her, making some horrible grimaces that he intended to have
represented as fascinations.
“On no account, my Lord,” said Lady Lackington, as though replying to a
look of entreaty from his Lordship.
“But you 'd really be amused,” said he, smiling. “It is about the best
bit of low comedy--”
“I detest low comedy.”
“The father of your fair friends, is it not?” asked Lady Grace,
languidly.
“Yes. Twining admires them vastly,” said his Lordship, half maliciously.
“If I might venture--”
“Oh dear, no; not to me,” said Lady Grace, shuddering. “I have little
tolerance for what are called characters. You may present your Hebrew
friend, if you like.”
“He's going to dance with the Princess; and there goes Twining, with one
of my beauties, I declare,” said Lord Lackington. “I say, Spicer, what
is that dark lot, near the door?”
“American trotters, my Lord; just come over.”
“You know them, don't you?”
“I met them yesterday at dinner, and shall be delighted to introduce
your Lordship. Indeed, they asked me if you were not the Lord that was
so intimate with the Prince of Wales.”
“How stupid! They might have known, even without the aid of a Peerage,
that I was a schoolboy when the Prince was a grown man. The tall girl is
good-looking; what's her name?”
“She's the daughter of the Honorable Leonidas Shinbone, that's all I
know,--rather a belle at Saratoga, I fancy.”
“Very dreadful!” sighed Lady Grace, fanning herself; “they do make such
a mess of what might be very pretty toilette. You could n't tell her,
perhaps, that her front hair is dressed for the back of the head.”
“No, sir; I never play at cards,” said Lord Lackington, stiffly, as an
American gentleman offered him a pack to draw from.
“Only a little bluff or a small party of poker,” said the stranger, “for
quarter dollars, or milder, if you like it.”
A cold bow of refusal was the reply.
“I told you he was the Lord,” said a friend, in a drawling accent “He
looks as if he 'd 'mow us all down like grass.'”
Dr. Lanfranchi, the director of the establishment, here interposed, and,
by a few words, induced the Americans to retire and leave the others
unmolested.
“Thank you, doctor,” said Lady Lackington, in acknowledgment; “your tact
is always considerate,--always prompt.”
“These things never happen in the season, my Lady,” said he, with a very
slight foreign accentuation of the words. “It is only at times like this
that people--very excellent and amiable people, doubtless--”
“Oh, to be sure they are,” interrupted she, impatiently; “but let us
speak of something else. Is that your clairvoyant Princess yonder?”
“Yes, my Lady; she has just revealed to us what was doing at the Crimea.
She says that two of the English advanced batteries have slackened their
fire for want of ammunition, and that a deserter was telling Todleben of
the reason at the moment She is _en rapport_ with her sister, who is now
at Sebastopol.”
“And are we to be supposed to credit this?” asked my Lord.
“I can only aver that I believe it, my Lord,” said Lanfranchi,
whose massive head and intensely acute features denoted very little
intellectual weakness.
“I wish you 'd ask her why are we lingering so long in this dreary
place?” sighed Lady Lackington, peevishly.
“She answered that question yesterday, my Lady,” replied he, quietly.
“How was that? Who asked her? What did she say?”
“It was the Baron von Glum that asked; and her answer was, 'Expecting a
disappointment.'”
“Very gratifying intelligence, I must say. Did you hear that, my Lord?”
“Yes, I heard it, and I have placed it in my mind in the same category
as her Crimean news.”
“Can she inform us when we are to get away?” asked her Ladyship.
“She mentioned to-morrow evening as the time, my Lady,” said the doctor,
calmly.
A faint laugh of derisive meaning was Lady Lackington's only reply; and
the doctor gravely remarked: “There is more in these things than we like
to credit; perhaps our very sense of inferiority in presence of such
prediction is a bar to our belief. We do not willingly lend ourselves to
a theory which at once excludes us from the elect of prophecy.”
“Could she tell us who'll win the Derby?” said Spicer, joining the
colloquy. But a glance from her Ladyship at once recalled him from the
indiscreet familiarity.
“Do you think she could pronounce whose is the arrival that makes such
a clatter outside?” said Lord Lackington, as a tremendous chorus of
whip-cracking announced the advent of something very important; and
the doctor hurried off to receive the visitor. Already a large
travelling-carriage, drawn by eight horses, and followed by a “fourgon”
with four, had drawn up before the great entrance, and a courier,
gold-banded and whiskered, and carrying a most imposingly swollen
money-bag, was ringing stoutly for admittance. When Dr. Lanfranchi had
exchanged a few words with the courier, he approached the window of the
carriage, and, bowing courteously, proceeded to welcome the traveller.
“Your apartments have been ready since the sixteenth, sir; and we hoped
each day to have seen you arrive.”
“Have your visitors all gone?” asked the stranger, in a low quiet tone.
“No, sir; the fine weather has induced many to prolong their stay. We
have the Princess Labanoff, Lord Lackington, the Countess Grembinski,
the Duke of Terra di Monte, the Lady Grace--”
The traveller, however, paid little attention to the Catalogue, but with
the aid of the courier on one side and his-valet on the other, slowly
descended from the carriage. If he availed himself of their assistance,
there was little in his appearance that seemed to warrant its necessity.
He was a large, powerfully built man, something beyond the prime of
life, but whose build announced considerable vigor. Slightly stooped in
the shoulders, the defect seemed to add to the fixity of his look,
for the head was thus thrown more forward, and the expression of the
deep-set eyes, overshadowed by shaggy gray eyebrows, rendered more
piercing and direct His features were massive and regular, their
character that of solemnity and gravity; and as he removed his cap,
he displayed a high, bold forehead with what phrenologists would have
called an extravagant development of the organs of locality. Indeed,
these overhanging masses almost imparted an air of retreating to a head
that was singularly straight.
“A number of letters have arrived for you, and you will find them in
your room, sir,” continued Lanfranchi, as he escorted him towards the
stairs. A quiet bow acknowledged this speech, and the doctor went on: “I
was charged with a message from Lord Lackington, too, who desired me to
say that he hoped to see you as soon as possible after your arrival. May
I inform him when you could receive him?”
“Not to-night; some time to-morrow, about twelve o'clock, or half-past,
if that will suit him,” said the stranger, coldly. “Is Baron Glumthal
here? Well, tell him to come up to me, and let them send me some tea.”
“May I mention your arrival to his Lordship, for I know his great
anxiety?”
“Just as you please,” said the other, in the same quiet tone; while he
bowed in a fashion to dismiss his visitor.
Having glanced casually at the addresses of a number of letters, he only
opened one or two, and looked cursorily over their contents; and then
opening a window which looked over the lake, he placed a chair on the
balcony and sat down, as if to rest and reflect in the fresh and still
night air. It was a calm and quiet atmosphere,--not a leaf stirred, not
a ripple moved the glassy surface of the lake; so that, as he sat, he
could overhear Dr. Lanfranchi's voice beneath announcing his arrival to
Lord Lackington.
“If he can receive Glumthal, why can't he see _me?_” asked the Viscount,
testily. “You must go back and tell him that I desire particularly to
meet him this evening.”
“If you wish, my Lord--”
“I do, sir,” repeated he, more peremptorily. “Lady Lackington and myself
have been sojourning here the last three weeks, awaiting this arrival,
and I am at a loss to see why our patience is to be pushed further. Pray
take him my message, therefore.”
The doctor, without speaking, left the room at once.
Lanfranchi was some minutes in the apartment before he discovered
where the stranger was sitting, and then approaching him softly he
communicated his Lordship's request.
“I am afraid you must allow me to take my own way. I have contracted
an unfortunate habit in that respect,” said the stranger, with a quiet
smile. “Give my compliments to his Lordship, and say that at twelve
to-morrow I am at his orders; and tell Baron Glumthal that I expect him
now.”
Lanfranchi withdrew; and having whispered the message to the Baron,
proceeded to make his communication to the Viscount.
“Very well, sir,” said Lord Lackington, haughtily interrupting;
“something like an apology. Men of this sort have a business-like
standard even for their politeness, and there is no necessity for me to
teach them something better;” and then, turning to Twining, he added,
“That was Dunn's arrival we heard awhile ago.”
“Oh, indeed! Very glad,--quite rejoiced on your account more than my
own. Dunn--Dunn; remarkable man--very,” said Twining, hurriedly.
“Thank Heaven! we may be able to get away from this place to-morrow or
next day,” said Lord Lackington, sighing drearily.
“Yes, of course; very slow for your Lordship--no society--nothing to
do.”
“And the weather beginning to break?” said Lord Lackington, peevishly.
“Just so, as your Lordship most justly observes,--the weather beginning
to break.”
“Look at that troop of horses,” said the Viscount, as the postilions
passed beneath the window in a long file with the cattle just released
from the travelling-carriages. “There goes ten--no, but twelve posters.
He travels right royally, doesn't he?”
“Very handsomely, indeed; quite a pleasure to see it,” said Twining,
gleefully.
“These fellows have little tact, with all their worldly shrewdness, or
they 'd not make such ostentatious display of their wealth.”
“Quite true, my Lord. It _is_ indiscreet of them.”
“It is so like saying, 'This is _our_ day! '“ said the Viscount.
“So it is, my Lord; and a very pleasant day they have of it, I must say;
clever men--shrewd men--know the world thoroughly.”
“I 'm not so very sure of that, Twining,” said his Lordship, smiling
half superciliously. “If they really had all the worldly knowledge you
attribute to them, they 'd scarcely venture to shock the feelings of
society by assumptions of this sort They would have more patience,
Twining,--more patience.”
“So they would, my Lord. Capital thing,--excellent thing, patience;
always rewarded in the end; great fun.” And he rubbed his hands and
laughed away pleasantly.
“And they'll defeat themselves, that's what will come of it, sir,” said
Lord Lackington, not heeding the other's remark.
“I quite agree with your Lordship,” chimed in Twining.
“And shall I tell you why they 'll defeat themselves, sir?”
“Like it of all things; take it as a great favor on your Lordship's
part.”
“For this reason, Twining, that they have no 'prestige,'--no, Twining,
they have no prestige. Now, sir, wealth unassociated with prestige
is just like--what shall I say?--it is, as it were, a sort of local
rank,--a kind of thing like being brigadier in the Bombay Army, but only
a lieutenant when you 're at home; so long, therefore, as these fellows
are rich, they have their influence. Let them suffer a reverse of
fortune, however, and where will they be, sir?”
“Can't possibly say; but quite certain your Lordship knows,--perfectly
sure of it,” rattled out Twining.
“I do, sir. It is a subject on which I have bestowed considerable
thought. I may go further, and say, one which I have reduced to a sort
of theory. These men are signs of the times,--emblems of our era;
just like the cholera, the electric telegraph, or the gold-fields of
Australia. We must not accept them as normal, do you perceive? They are
the abnormal incidents of our age.”
“Quite true, most just, very like the electric telegraph!” muttered
Twining.
“And by that very condition only exercising a passing influence on our
society, sir,” said his Lordship, pursuing his own train of thought.
“Perfectly correct, rapid as lightning.”
“And when they do pass away, sir,” continued the Viscount, “they leave
no trace of their existence behind them. The bubble buret, the surface
of the stream remains without a ripple. I myself may live to see; you,
in all probability, will live to see.”
“Your Lordship far more likely,--sincerely trust as much,” said Twining,
bowing.
“Well, sir, it matters little which of us is to witness the extinction
of this Plutocracy.” And as his Lordship enunciated this last word, he
walked off like one who had totally exhausted his subject.