CHAPTER III.

THE INTRUDER IN THE CONVENT GARDEN.

As the hour for the evening promenade drew near, Zuleika became

painfully excited, and uneasy. She longed with all her heart to see

Giovanni Massetti again, to hear the ardent words of love he would be

sure to utter, but would she be doing right to meet him clandestinely

and alone? Her mind misgave her. Of course she could trust her young

Italian lover, for he was the very soul of chivalry and honor. But did

others know this? How would her conduct be judged should the other

pupils and Sister Agatha steal upon them unawares? Giovanni might escape

without recognition, but with her it would be altogether different. She

could escape only by coining an ingenious lie, and at that her whole

nature revolted. She could not stoop to an innocent deception, much less

to an absolute falsehood. Why had Giovanni tempted her? Why had he

sought to place her in a situation he must know would be perilous? There

was but one answer--because of his love--and that answer was sufficient

to induce her to take the risk, however great it might be. Yes, she

would meet him at the appointed time and spot.

At length the bell rang for the promenade, and Sister Agatha headed the

little procession for the garden. For a brief space Zuleika lingered

with her companions among the shady walks and gorgeous flowers, but at

the first opportunity stole away and sought the leafy elm, beneath the

friendly boughs of which she was to receive the welcome yet dreaded

visit from the Viscount Massetti. She gained the rendezvous unobserved,

with loudly beating heart. The young Italian was not there. She searched

eagerly but vainly for him in the gathering twilight. What had happened

to prevent his coming? She was on thorns of anxiety. Perhaps he had

attempted to scale the wall and had fallen, sustaining some severe

injury! Perhaps even then, while she was waiting for him, he was lying

outside the wall, bruised and bleeding! But what could she do? Only

wait, wait, with torturing thoughts seething in her troubled brain.

She listened intently. Not a sound. If Giovanni were wounded, disabled,

he was maintaining a most heroic silence. She drew a magnificent gold

watch, the exquisite case of which was thickly incrusted with diamonds,

from her belt and glanced at the dial. It was after seven o'clock, and

by eight all the scholars were required to be safely housed within the

convent. Besides, she was not sure that she would not be missed,

searched for and found. What should she do, what course should she take?

As she was debating within herself, uncertain whether to remain or

return, there was a rustle amid the foliage of the chestnut tree

immediately outside the garden enclosure, and a man's form swung from

one of the branches to the top of the wall. Zuleika's emotion well-nigh

overcame her. She had recognized Giovanni. In another instant he had

leaped from the wall to the ground and was at her side. He stretched out

his arms to her and the girl, all of a tremble, impetuously cast herself

into them.

"Oh! Giovanni!" she murmured. "At last. I feared some terrible accident

had befallen you."

"I am safe, darling Zuleika," answered the young Italian, folding her in

a close embrace and showering ardent kisses upon her forehead and lips.

"But you, dearest, you are well? You have not forgotten me, have not

ceased to love me?"

"Forgotten you, ceased to love you, Giovanni!" whispered the quivering

girl, in a tone of slight reproach, gazing fondly into his eyes. "Have I

not given you my solemn promise to love you only?"

"Forgive me, my own!" cried the youthful Viscount. "What is a lover

without fears and doubts? They are the proof of the strength of his

adoration!"

They seated themselves at the foot of the branching elm, the friendly

shelter of which shut them in. Then Zuleika said, with apprehension in

her voice:

"Why did you come here, Giovanni? Are you not aware that you are running

a great risk and putting me in peril? If we are found together, you will

be ignominiously expelled and I severely punished. Besides, think of the

disgrace for us both in such an event! The matter will get abroad,

furnish food for gossip and certainly reach the ears of my father and

brother, whose displeasure I dread more than all else! Think, too, that

Esperance will call you to account for your conduct, and I could never

bear a quarrel between you and him in which, perhaps, blood might be

shed!"

"Never fear, Zuleika," replied Massetti, gallantly. "Should we be

discovered I will shield you. As to your father and brother, they cannot

be displeased, for I will explain all to them and end by demanding you

in marriage. Why have I come here? Simply because I could hold aloof

from you no longer. I felt that I must see you, speak with you, renew my

vows of love. Oh! Zuleika, the world is all dark to me without your

smile!"

"But you promised me to wait!"

"I know it; but I miscalculated my strength when I made that promise.

Could I see you I might be patient; but to wait for weeks and weeks

without even a glimpse of your dear face, without once hearing the sound

of your beloved voice, is utterly beyond me. I cannot do it!"

"You must. Nothing else can be done. My father wishes me to remain at

the convent school for a year, and the rules positively prohibit your

visits. Be patient yet awhile, Giovanni. We both are very young and have

a life of happiness to look forward to. Besides, we can see each other

at the Palazzo Costi during vacation, and that is something."

"It is nothing to a man who wishes to see you constantly, to be always

with you. Oh! Zuleika, I cannot bear our separation, I cannot do without

you!"

The young man had risen to his feet and uttered these words loudly,

recklessly. Zuleika sprang up and caught him by the arm, her face white

with terror.

"Control yourself, Giovanni, control yourself!" she whispered, in a

frightened tone. "Speak lower, with more caution, or other ears than

mine will hear you!"

But the Viscount did not heed her. He was fearfully agitated and his

entire frame shook with excitement and emotion.

"Fly with me, Zuleika, fly with me now, this very moment, and be my

wife!" he exclaimed, in a voice so strangely altered that Monte-Cristo's

daughter scarcely recognized it. "I am rich, and my family has wealth

and power sufficient to protect us against everything and everybody,

even your father, with all his untold gold and influence! The Count of

Monte-Cristo seeks to part us; that is the reason he has sent you here,

to this convent, where you are little less than a prisoner!"

He caught her wildly in his arms and held her against his breast as if

defying fate. Zuleika, more terrified than ever, struggled in his

embrace and finally released herself. She faced Giovanni, and said,

warmly:

"You do my father injustice. He does not seek to part us. He esteems you

greatly, Viscount Massetti, loves you for the service you rendered me,

his daughter, and will reward that service with the highest recompense

in his power to bestow--my hand. But he considers me a child as yet,

wishes me to have education and experience before I marry, that I may

be a wife worth having and not a mere useless doll. Respect his wishes,

Giovanni, respect him. He is a good, kind-hearted man, and will do

right. His wisdom has been shown too often for me to doubt it!"

"His wisdom!" cried Massetti, bitterly. "Yes, he is wise, too wise to

bestow your hand upon me, a mere Viscount! What is my family in his

eyes? Nothing. What is my wealth? An utter trifle compared to his. I

tell you, Zuleika, he does not wish us to marry. He designs you for some

high potentate with riches to match the princely marriage-portion you

will have!"

"No, no!" cried the girl. "You are despondent, and in your despondency

misjudge him. He cares nothing for wealth or exalted station, but values

a good name and an unstained reputation above all else."

"But will you not be mine, will you not fly with me from this wretched

prison, in which I can see you only by stealth and like a criminal?"

The Italian's eyes sparkled in the twilight and his voice was full of

eloquent persuasion. He fell upon his knees at Zuleika's feet, and,

seizing her hand, kissed it passionately again and again. The trembling

young girl was deeply touched by his love and entreaties. For a moment

she wavered, but for a moment only; then reason asserted its sway and

cooler reflection came to her aid.

"Rise, Giovanni," she said, with comparative calmness, "rise and be a

man. This proposition is altogether unworthy of you, and, should I

accept it, we would both be disgraced. I am yours, my heart is in your

keeping, and I will be your wife at the proper time with my father's

full consent. But I cannot fly with you, I will not!"

The young man sprang to his feet as if an electric bat had struck him.

"You have no confidence in me, then!" he cried, impulsively. "You do not

love me!"

"Do not love you!" exclaimed the girl, winding her shapely arms about

his neck, as her lovely head sank upon his bosom. "I love you with all

my heart, with all my soul, and it is because I love you that I will not

fly with you!"

Giovanni kissed her hair rapturously, excitedly, and the beautiful girl,

looking ten times more beautiful in her pleading earnestness, added,

sweetly, persuasively:

"Leave me now, darling. The bell for the pupils to return to the convent

will soon ring and I must not be missed from among them. Leave me, but

remember the maxim, 'Wait and hope!'"

The lover was about to reply when the sound of footsteps suddenly broke

upon their ears. They glanced at each other, startled, uncertain what to

do. Giovanni was the first to recover self-possession. He noiselessly

parted the boughs of the elm and peered cautiously in the direction of

the sound.

"Three men are rapidly approaching," he said, hastily, in a whisper.

"They are almost here!"

Zuleika looked, in her turn, through the branches.

"The gardener and his assistants," she whispered, nearly petrified by

consternation. "They have evidently learned that you scaled the wall and

are in quest of you!"

"See," said Giovanni, breathlessly, pointing to a group behind the men.

"A number of nuns are also coming!"

"They are searching for me! Oh! Giovanni, fly, fly instantly!"

"And leave you to suffer, to bear the weight of my imprudence! Never! I

will stay and protect you!"

"You will not protect me by remaining. You will only compromise us both

the more. Go, I beseech you, go, while there is yet time!"

With tears in her imploring eyes, Zuleika pushed her lover gently

towards the wall. He gazed at her for an instant and then at the

approaching men and nuns, who were now very near.

The girl clasped her hands supplicatingly, then mutely pointed to the

wall.

"It is your wish?" asked Massetti, hurriedly.

Zuleika nodded her head affirmatively, and still more imperatively

pointed to the wall.

"I will obey you," whispered the young Italian, "and I will 'wait and

hope!'"

She had gained the victory. A joyous love-light came into her eyes, for

the moment eclipsing her terror. Giovanni could not resist the

temptation to embrace her, even in the face of the danger that

threatened him. He wound his arms about her yielding form, drew her to

him with a crushing strain, showering burning kisses upon her upturned

lips.

"Farewell," he murmured, reluctantly releasing her, "farewell, my own!"

He turned from her and ran to the wall, scaled it with the agility of a

cat and vanished.

When the gardener and his assistants reached the elm, they found Zuleika

standing there alone. Had they seen Massetti scale the wall? Had they

recognized him? These thoughts shot through the girl's agitated mind.

She gave no attention to her own peril.

The men came to a halt and stood silently by, waiting for the nuns to

arrive. Horror was pictured on their aged countenances, and they stared

at Monte-Cristo's daughter as if she had committed some heinous,

unpardonable crime.

The group of nuns speedily arrived, headed by Sister Agatha, who held an

open letter in her hand. Zuleika gazed at this letter in silent dismay.

It was hers, the one Giovanni had written her! How had it got into

Sister Agatha's possession? She mechanically felt in her bosom where she

had secreted it, as she thought, safely. Her hand touched only the empty

envelope. The note must have fallen upon the floor of the school-room

and been found by some malicious pupil, who, after reading it and

discovering its compromising contents, had surrendered it to the nun,

thus divulging the weighty secret.

Zuleika stood abashed and terror-stricken. No chance of escape now. No

chance for deception had she wished to essay it. The letter told the

whole story, and the proof of its truth was furnished, for was she not

at the appointed rendezvous, and was it not probable that the men and

the nuns had seen Giovanni quit her and scale the garden wall?

The nuns looked as horrified as the old servants, but they were more to

be dreaded; they possessed the power of reprimanding and punishing, and

what punishment would they think too severe in this extreme case? Sister

Agatha spoke. Her tone was milder than Zuleika had expected.

"Oh! mademoiselle," she said, reproachfully, "what is this? A meeting

with a lover, and within these holy precincts dedicated to celibacy,

chastity and sacred things! What will your father, the Count of

Monte-Cristo, say when your conduct is reported to him? You are young,

and allowance must be made for youthful blood and passionate impulses;

but still you have done wrong, very wrong! Is this man, who signs

himself Giovanni and who just left you, your betrothed?"

"He is," murmured Zuleika, blushing and holding down her head.

"With your father's permission, mademoiselle?"

"My father does not object to him," replied the girl evasively.

"In that case your fault is not so great as I at first supposed," said

the nun. "You are pardonable for receiving the man, who, with your

father's consent, is in time to become your husband; but, nevertheless,

in meeting him within the convent grounds you are censurable for lack of

discipline, and also for conniving at a breach of our rule which

excludes all male visitors, save parents or guardians."

Zuleika bowed her head in submission.

"The punishment," continued Sister Agatha, "shall be as light as

possible, however, if you have never before met this man within the

convent grounds."

"I have never met him here before," said Zuleika, "and I only met him in

this instance because--because--"

She hesitated and burst into tears.

"Because what, my poor child?" asked the nun, kindly.

"Because I love him so, and because I was afraid, if I did not meet him,

in his desperation he would seek me out in face of you all!"

"Have you ever written to him since you have been in this school?"

"Never!"

"Has he ever written to you before?"

"You hold his first letter to me in your hand!"

"How was this letter delivered, by what means did it reach you?"

Her face one mass of crimson, trembling from head to foot, Zuleika told

the whole story of her adventure at noon that day. How she had strayed

from her companions without any definite intention; how she had seated

herself within the screening branches of the elm to meditate; how she

had heard the singular noise in the chestnut tree, and, finally, how the

letter, fastened to a stone, had come fluttering over the wall and

fallen at her feet.

The nuns glanced at each other, horrified and amazed at the audacity of

the young Italian.

"Zuleika," said Sister Agatha, "I told you your punishment should be as

light as possible. You have been exposed and reprimanded; the blush of

shame has been brought to your cheek! This, I think, is penalty

sufficient for a first offense, considering also that it was, in a

measure, forced upon you. But beware of a second infraction of our

rules! Now, return to your companions."

So it happened that Zuleika suffered but slightly for the imprudence and

headlong devotion of her lover. Fearing gossip, the Sisterhood of the

Sacred Heart suppressed the matter, and the Count of Monte-Cristo never

heard of it. Zuleika expected ridicule from her companions, but the

warm-blooded, romantic Italian girls, instead of ridiculing her, looked

upon her as a heroine and envied her the possession of a lover daring

and devoted enough to scale the wall of a convent garden.

Monte-Cristo's Daughter · 第 3 / 30 章