_Speed._--"Sir, we are undone! these are the villains
That all the travellers do fear so much."
_Two Gentlemen of Verona._
Mr. Lennox, about seven years after the events we narrated in the last
chapter, was sitting in his drawing-room with several of his children,
as well as his grandchildren, around him. Louisa, whom we recollect at
the picnic, we should have before stated had succeeded in captivating
our friend Mr. Scroop, of Scroop Hall, and rejoiced her lord's heart
already with two little Scroops, who promised to prove chips off the old
block. Both she, her husband, and the two boys were present, as were
also two other married daughters, and the only son, a wild but amiable
young fellow at Cambridge.
Although Mr. Lennox had lost his partner in life since we last saw him,
the world evidently had run smoothly with him. Through the Earl's
interest he had obtained a very lucrative appointment in the Register
House, in the Sasines office, and though his hair was sprinkled with
snow, otherwise he was the same comfortable looking, self-satisfied man;
proud of himself, his house, his hospitality, his children and now
grandchildren. He had managed to get off three of his six daughters, one
had died a few years ago, and one was engaged to a young Baronet; the
youngest, and best looking he destined for some still higher lover!
Indeed, Caroline was worthy a better lot than awaited her. She was tall
and elegant in figure; her dark hair almost black, brilliant eyes and
high colour gave an air of more than dashing beauty to her face. To this
she added the accomplishments of singing and requisite artistic talents,
besides possessing winning manners, wit and talent in conversation. Mr.
Lennox considered her the flower of his family, the golden cord to his
seven-stringed lyre, of which one string was only as yet broken; he was
never tired of showing off the painting and drawings of his
daughter,--he was anxious to bring her out on every occasion, and took
care that everybody heard and admired her singing, her conversation, and
her personal charms. Of William his son he was also vain to a degree,
and in his bringing up had totally neglected all proper discipline, or
inculcating a style of economy in living at all commensurate with his
means. The consequence was at seventeen young Lennox was a
conglomeration of personal conceit--vanity of dress--and dogmatical
pedantry. From his father he had inherited a pleasing exterior, had been
crammed with learning from his infancy; and, from all he had heard of
the way the young De Veres had behaved when they excited the wonder and
envy of all the country round, he had imbibed the idea it was a grand
thing to be fast, and so he had shaped his course, quite forgetting he
wanted the means to be so, and already he was deep in the secrets of the
Jews, and all the vices of juvenile depravity. When his follies were
told to his father he would say, "William is adolescent yet--when he
grows matured in years he will become wiser. The Earl of Wentworth was
also fast when young, but he is now quite sobered down--every young man
must sow his wild oats."
"Yo, ho! what a dull hole this is!" exclaimed William Lennox, yawning.
"What on earth shall I do with myself? Ha! I know, I shall go and see
Mrs. Siddons act."
"William, my son, I fear the stage has too great allurements for your
mind! but still I can fancy you must find this dulness intolerable. At
any rate you will be earlier to-night, won't you, my boy?"
"I'll see, governor--don't wait up for me; I've got a pass key," and the
young man sauntered from the room, leaving the rest to amuse themselves
without him.
"I am afraid William gets to no good at that theatre," said Scroop.
"What a state he came home in last night! he'll ruin his constitution if
he goes on so."
"He is but a boy--he will grow wiser in time--poor fellow, I do feel for
him!" said his father.
"You should check it while he is young; look at John de Vere: it was
just that way he began his course," said Scroop again.
"I hope you do not think my dear William will turn out so utterly
degraded as that most unfortunate and evil principled young man! Poor
William! it is only a little harmless extravagance I can blame him for
yet."
"Little beginnings you know; watch the first sign of decay, stop the
earliest symptoms of decline."
"Have you ever heard any tidings of that singular character?--he was the
most dark-minded, mysterious man I ever met in all my travels," said Mr.
Lennox, anxious to change the conversation.
"The Earl has I believe caused every inquiry to be made, but up till now
without any result. The last, you know, that was ever heard of them was
their sailing in a terrific snow-storm from Leith. I say them, for I
need no longer hide the fact that the Count Czinsky was none other than
Edward L'Estrange."
"You astonish me. Why did you never let this transpire before? does the
Earl know it?"
"He does not; to tell the truth my promise not to let this out was an
extorted one, and I consider myself no longer bound to keep it,
especially as there is little doubt that both of them have long since
paid the debt of nature, and no doubt secured a fearful reckoning with
their Maker. Certainly that Weird in the family is a wonderful thing! At
first I doubted it--but now we have the evidence of our own senses! Only
the Earl left! Lady Arranmore burned at nineteen, Lady Florence dead of
consumption at almost the same age, Frank de Vere killed in India at the
head of his men gallantly cutting his way through the enemy, and the
Captain, as far as we know, drowned years ago! The Earl is young yet,
and if he does die so I shall think it the most marvellous curse."
"The untimely fates of that family," said Louisa, "have quite cast a
gloom on the Old Towers: the Earl has not been there since the funeral
of his son: he has become quite a foreigner. I think he always lives at
Naples now."
"How I should like to do so," said Caroline; "that charming Naples--it
is my day dream to see it some day. Do you not think, papa, we should
make the tour some winter when you have your leave?"
"I should certainly like nothing better, Carry. We have travelled--let
me see--through France, Germany, Prussia, the Rhine and Switzerland,
Italy alone remains; we shall see, darling. Some day perhaps I may take
my Caroline to show the Italian donnas what an English beauty is."
"Louisa, love," said Scroop, "our little boys should be off to
bed--shouldn't they?"
"I will take them upstairs, and then we can have some music or play
cards. I wish William would stay more at home! Come, dears, it's time to
say good-night to grandpapa."
Scarcely had the young Hopefuls departed with their mother than the post
came in, and a foreign letter arrived for Mr. Lennox. He broke the seal,
and read it with an expression of great joy on his face.
"Whenever we converse about our friends we are sure to hear about them.
Here's a letter from Lord Wentworth, in which he says, as he knows I
generally take a tour during my winter's vacation, he hopes I will pay
him a visit at Foggia, where he is now residing, a lovely place in
Capitanata. He wishes us to come by Naples, as he trusts I will bring
one or more of my family. I am sure this is most considerate and kind.
As I require amusement after my toilsome labours as much as William does
after his Cambridge term, I shall most decidedly accept for myself,
William, who must see the world, and my little Carry; you will come,
won't you, my darling?"
"Oh, I shall be so delighted--I did so wish to see Italy!"
"And then, my love, think under what auspicious circumstances we shall
see it with the Earl, and that will give us an introduction to the best
society there!"
"I fancy Foggia cannot boast of much society--the Earl is quite retired
now I hear," said Scroop. "However, it is an interesting town--there is
the Cathedral, with the famous image of the Virgin, the gates of
Frederick's palace, and there Manfred won his victory. Then, on the way,
you see Naples. By-the-by though, you pass the Val di Bovino--the haunt
of all the brigands! you will have to take care of them!"
"Oh! we shall have no need to fear them. I and William armed
cap-a-pie--and the postilions and all, will be enough to scare them."
"Don't be over sure, and take some sbirri with you, I advise you; there
is Luigi Vardarelli, the great chief there, and his band is so powerful
he will stop whole tribes of peasants, and rob them of their cattle and
gold."
"Ha! he will find William and me different metal, if the rascal tries to
stop us!"
In this way they all talked on till late. William Lennox was still
absent, and the lady part of the family retired, whilst Mr. Lennox and
Scroop sat up to let him in. They had a long watch, for it was only
after three had struck the young worthy made his appearance in a horrid
state of intoxication. Mr. Lennox was really much concerned, and annoyed
at this _expose_ of his favourite to his own son-in-law, however, he got
his poor boy to bed as quietly as possible, and himself sought
Morpheus's charms.
Young Lennox was well pleased when he next morning heard the plan, and
declared he would give the Italian robbers cause to know he had not been
under Angelo in vain, should they risk an encounter. In a few weeks
another letter in answer to Mr. Lennox's acceptance was received, in
which the Earl pressed him to come immediately; they were quite alone,
excepting the Marquis, who was paying the Countess and himself a visit.
In conclusion, he begged Mr. Lennox to call at the Towers and give an
enclosed note to old Andrew, who would give him a jewel-case of the
Countess's, who was anxious to have them for the spring at Rome; he
begged him not to let Luigi, the terror of the Capitanata, get hold of
the jewels, and also impressed on his friend the necessity of taking an
escort of sbirri on the road from Naples to Foggia. Mr. Lennox was
certainly somewhat alarmed at these notices, and almost determined to
leave Caroline behind; but the young lady so coaxed her father to let
her go, he at last consented, saying only, if she was run off with, and
became Luigi's bride, it was not his fault. The romantic girl was quite
ready to run any risk for the pleasure of seeing Naples and Italy, and
William was quite wild in his anxiety to show off his fencing, and
almost began to wish an encounter with this celebrated bandit.
Early in December, Mr. Lennox, his son, and youngest daughter started in
a vessel from Leith bound for Naples, carrying with him the case of
jewellery, which was somewhat larger than he imagined, and from old
Andrew's special caution not to let his eye off it, seemed to be of
immense value. He was rather sorry he had been chosen to carry them, and
could not help wishing the Earl had selected any other person in the
world but himself. Nothing unusual happened on their voyage. They had
rough weather in the Channel, rougher in the Bay of Biscay, and roughest
in the Mediterranean, which Mr. Lennox had assured his children would be
like a millpond. None of them proved very good sailors, and they were
all delighted when Vesuvius appeared and they came to rest in the Porto
Grande. Two or three days at Naples quite re-invigorated them after
their stormy passage, and they made all the excursions that travellers
generally make; saw the galleries, the lions of the city, walked every
evening along the Villa Reale, and were quite charmed with the foreign
aspect of the place, the costumes of the peasants, and white houses
along the whiter sands edging the dark blue Mediterranean. They were
also disgusted with the lazzaroni beggars, passport officials, and the
extreme dirtiness of the back streets, as well as broiled by the sun.
The vettura corriere, or mail coach, started at midnight for Otranto,
and as it passed Foggia, Mr. Lennox determined to take it so far. At
midnight, accordingly, he and his party appeared at the coach office to
secure places; unfortunately, though they got their places and were
comfortably settled, some passengers for Taranto, Bari, and other places
still further on the route, also arrived, and they were accommodated
with seats, whilst Mr. Lennox, his son, and Caroline in the most surly
manner were bid to alight and informed they could not be taken. Mr.
Lennox stormed, swore, and threatened the English ambassador should be
consulted, and a hundred other calamities occur for stopping him and
turning him out in this unjustifiable way. It was all to no
purpose,--their baggage was tossed out, and the mail drove off. After a
good deal of fighting, Mr. Lennox managed to get his fares refunded, and
a couple of hours later drove off in a hired vehicle with four horses
and two postilions. At Marigliano our travellers stopped for breakfast,
spending a couple of hours in seeing what was to be seen. They again
started off with fresh horses to Cardinale, a small village at the foot
of the mountains; here they took advantage of a miserable table d'hote,
and gladly set off again up the steep hill-side. First a valley was
crossed full of vineyards and nut trees, besides orchards filled with
apples and other fruits, above them spread dense chestnut forests.
Crossing a deep ravine, their carriage slowly climbed a tremendous
ascent, from the top of which they commanded a grand view of the wide
plains of Lavoro, till at last they rested half an hour at Monteforte,
and thence began the descent to Avellino through a narrow valley, with
the hills on either side thickly wooded with nut trees. Soon they saw
the poplar rows which told them their first day's labours were over, and
they gladly put up at a far more comfortable inn than they had yet seen
since they left Naples. Young Lennox took a stroll through the town, and
declared he saw more beauty than he had ever seen in one evening before
all his life. Indeed they had an excellent example of the famous beauty
of the women of Avellino in the daughter of their host, a most perfect
Italian beauty, who might have sat for the Madonna della Seggiola. Early
next morning they breakfasted with all the travellers by the vettura,
which had also rested there the first night. During the meal a good deal
was said about the celebrated banditti that then haunted the Val di
Bovino.[C] The most wondrous stories of the power and prowess of Luigi
Vardarelli were freely conversed on, and Mr. Lennox began quite to wish
himself at home again. His son professed to discredit them, and declared
his feats must be grossly exaggerated. After their morning meal, a smart
drive up the hilly but romantic road brought them to Dentecane; thence
they drove to the Grotto Minarda, situate in the middle of cornfields,
where they lunched, and then passed on past Ariano, also celebrated for
its female beauty, to Savignano, which they reached as the light began
to decline, having loitered a good deal by the road. Here nothing but
the name of Luigi filled every mouth, and the landlord, anxious to
detain customers, assured them it was madness to think of passing
through the Val di Bovino that night, as they would certainly be
attacked. Having no wish to come to close quarters with the desperados,
Mr. Lennox and his daughter readily obliged their host by staying, and
William was fain, much against his will, to rest there too. It was a
miserable post house--one which is now totally disused,--but the Italian
landlord did everything to try and make the evening pleasant, and his
daughter, a fine, handsome young girl of twenty, was quite in William's
way, and he talked his best Italian to her, whilst his father and sister
listened to their host's tales of horror about the two Vardarelli, till
they almost trembled with fear. Shortly after their dinner a horseman
rode up to the inn, and, dismounting, said he would stay there for the
night. Our host left his friends, and was busy introducing his new
arrival to the remains of the table d'hote served up as new. The
traveller, however, appeared exceedingly moderate in his tastes, and
hardly touched anything. Mr. Lennox and Caroline could not help
occasionally turning their eyes on the new guest; he was short and very
slight in form, but his face was perfect; a slightly arched, finely
chiselled nose, dark, piercing eyes, and well-made mouth, gave quite a
poetic cast to his features, which his long black hair and melancholy
countenance fully kept up. He seemed agitated and flushed, as if he had
either met with some disaster, or was travelling at an unwonted speed.
Mr. Lennox, after he had seen his wants satisfied, with English bonhomie
asked him if he would not join their table, and drink wine together?
After a little hesitation the invitation was accepted, the young man's
melancholy quickly passed away before the social glass, and he began
laughing and talking like any of them. He seemed well-educated and
connected, and by-and-by let out he was a Count Cesare, who lived near
Foggia, knew the Wentworths well, and had just started from their villa
at Foggia towards Naples. He said he had been chased by some of the
notorious brigands nearly up to the inn yard, and that might account for
his excited conduct when he first arrived. The ice being once broken,
Mr. Lennox, like all Englishmen, told his new acquaintance his whole
history in a couple of hours; how he was an intimate friend of Lord
Wentworth; was then going to see him, and carrying valuable jewellery.
The Count praised his judgment in not proceeding further that night,
advised him to place the jewellery in the trunk-box of his carriage, and
not to carry it inside as he had been doing, and, above all, charged him
not to trust the sbirri, who, he said, were usually confederate with the
banditti, and even if not were worthless cowards. He said he could
recommend two young men who were relatives of their host, who would
accompany them next day through the valley into the Apulian plains as
far as Pozzo d'Alberto; thence it was only ten miles to their
destination. Mr. Lennox thanked his friend much, and willingly followed
his advice. The two young men were introduced by their host, and looked
well able to defend their charge, armed as they were with pistols and
stilettos. Mr. Lennox also took pistols, and his son carried a sword, so
they were well prepared at least, and the Count told them they would
probably have no need of weapons, only prevention was better than cure.
Mutually pleased, they separated for their different apartments,
bestowing their praises on the accommodation, Mr. Lennox to dream of the
Earl's reception of him and his children, William of the fair Giulia
with whom he had lost his heart, Caroline of brigands, and the Count, as
he called himself, not to dream, but to think what a gull he had got
hold of in Mr. Lennox! Count Cesare was in fact only a member of the
Vardarelli's band, who had thus gleaned all the information he wanted
for Luigi, and left two of his men to act the part of guardians. The
landlord and his daughter Giulia were old hands at their trade, and
would probably share their guest's plunder.
Early next morning, after a most unpleasant night, owing to the
musquitoes and other insects that prevented them from almost closing
their eyes, our travellers arose, little dreaming what was in store for
them. They were disappointed to find that their friend, the Count, had
left for Naples at an early hour--so he bade the inn-keeper say--as they
had anticipated his pleasant company at breakfast. Mr. Lennox then had
to pay a most extortionate charge, notwithstanding his utmost efforts to
reduce it. William after actually prevailing on his inamorata to bestow
a parting salute, buckled on his sword, loosened it in the scabbard, and
felt himself a hero. The two false guards mounted behind. Mr. Lennox
handed his daughter into the carriage, and after his son, who talked
loud of his hopes for a brush with the miscreants, got in himself also,
the postilions whipped up and began the steep descent into the Val di
Bovino, shortly after leaving Montaguto.
The early sun was bright and warm, the air clear, the scenery exquisite;
every one felt in grand spirits as they trotted down the narrow defile
through cornfields and hemp-fields, with the river Cervaro gushing by.
Soon the mountains, so steep as to seem inaccessible, closed nearer in,
dense woods on either side of acacia and other trees almost shut out the
daylight. When they were perhaps more than half way through, a
pistol-shot resounded through the woods! In an instant the postilions
drew up their horses with a loud cry--"The bandits--the bandits--the
Vardarelli--we are undone!"[D]
"Drive on, drive on, for the love of heaven," cried Mr. Lennox, pale
with fear--but his voice was unheard.
Another pistol-shot resounded, and this close by; its aim was fatal to
the foremost postilion, who fell a corpse off his terrified horse. The
other man leapt down and fled into the woods like a hare. William leapt
out too, and drawing his sword whirled it round his head, crying to
their guards to fight, to do their duty, and defend his sister! Alas!
the guards were not there--they too had disappeared! He now looked
despairingly for aid; his father, poor old man, was white as a sheet,
and trembling with fear held the pistol cocked in one hand, and
supported Caroline, who was in a dead swoon, in the other. The
postilions--one was dead, the other flown! What should he do to save his
family from their as yet unseen foe? A thought struck him, he would
drive on! Just as he was about to put his thought into execution, and
drive on the horses, which stood as if petrified too--a confused sound
of trampling of steeds--oaths of men, clashing of arms--rose on every
side, and as if by magic the carriage was surrounded by at least forty
brigands. One, a dark-looking man, but evidently not a native, was
conspicuous from the coal-black steed he bestrode, and his commanding
manner. This was Luigi Vardarelli. Near him rode another singularly
resembling him: this was Adrian Vardarelli; he saw another there he
least expected to see--their friend the Count, of last evening! Close to
this man rode two others, their quondam guardians! The remaining robbers
were all fierce, bloodthirsty looking men. All this was seen in a moment
by the unfortunate youth. He saw they were betrayed--he saw his death
was near--and with a high resolve we could scarcely have thought the
young man capable of feeling, he determined to try and save his father
and sister by self-devotion.
"Gentlemen," he cried in Italian, "you could not hurt my aged parent,
nor helpless sister! I think too highly of you--you are too noble to do
so! take all we have--take me--and have your vengeance on my head, but
spare my father,--spare my sister! You too, sir," addressing the false
Count, "who have shared our hospitality, turn not your hand against
them."
Adrian Vardarelli seemed moved by the young man's speech, and said
something in his favour to the chieftain; but alas! in his face there
was not the shadow of mercy. He said something aside to the false Count,
who advancing, leapt off his horse and gave a command in Italian to the
two who had been their guards, who instantly cutting the traces, smote
the liberated horses, which set off at full speed, leaving the carriage
alone on the road. The bandit then walking up struck the unfortunate
young Lennox a blow on his cheek with the side of his sword, and
commanded him to draw. Smarting with the blow, which drew blood, and
still more with the insult, William rushed on his cool, wary antagonist
with blind fury. The conflict was short; all Angelo's tuition went for
nothing against the robber, who was a master in the art of fencing. In
less than three passes he disarmed his foe, and stepping forward ran his
vengeful blade through and through William Lennox's heart! Then wiping
the blade on his fallen victim's clothes, he walked to his captain for
further orders.