Do you know well, dear reader, any of those large villages which are
scattered over what may be called the Mantuan plain? They deserve not,
indeed, the name of towns, though they often approach them in size. I
mean such places as San Felice, Gonzaga, Bozzolo, Sanguinetto, and
others of that class, which now present a number of small scattered
stone houses, with gardens generally around them, and a road running
through the midst; and here and there a much larger house falling
rapidly to decay, with no windows to keep out the storm or the
tempest, and very often the roof completely off, while the tall square
tower, which is certain to be found stuck somewhere about the
building, rises one, if not two stories above the rest. The church is
generally placed upon any little rising ground, sometimes at one
extreme of the village, sometimes in the middle, with the priest's
cottage close by; but in any of these at the present day, you might as
well look for an inn as for the shop of a diamond merchant, unless you
chose to call by that name the little hovel, surrounded by a garden,
where, on festival days, the peasantry go to drink their glass of
Rosolio and water, wine, lemonade, or, since the Austrians have
bestrid the land, vermouth.
In the days I speak of, however, when journeys were almost always
performed on horseback, and cross-roads shared more liberally with
highways in the patronage of travellers, those larger houses which I
have mentioned were all inhabited by wealthy contadini, who often
combined with their ordinary occupation of farmers the more lucrative
calling of inn-keeping. The large farms which they held furnished
abundance of provisions for any accidental guests, and the upper parts
of the house, though scantily decorated, were kept ready for the
reception of travellers, in case the blessing of heaven, the plague in
a neighbouring town, or the bad reputation of the high road, brought
the wayfarers to villages in preference to cities. Very different,
indeed, were the customs and habits of such inns at that time, from
those which have prevailed within the last century, or, perhaps, even
more; for though not more than two hundred and fifty years have
passed, yet from the end of the sixteenth to the beginning of the
seventeenth century, were times of great change in the habits and
manners of all the nations of Europe; and at the small village inn in
Italy, instead of seeing waiters, tapsters, or drawers, or even
barmaids and chambermaids, all running eagerly to receive the
unexpected guest, the landlord would rise up from under his fig tree
or his olive, with a courteous salutation, and his sons and daughters
would be called upon to attend his guests.
Such was the reception of the Earl of Gowrie and his companions, at
the little inn in the village which I have described upon the banks of
the Po. One of the first houses they met with was a large building,
such as I have described, with its tall square tower of five stories
at one corner, the whole situated at the distance of a hundred yards
from the road, with a farm-yard in front. On the left of that
farm-yard was a vineyard, rich with grapes; and from a pole leaning
over the wall, hung suspended a garland, as indication sufficient that
hospitable entertainment was to be found within. The host himself was
seated under a tree in the vineyard, _pigliar la fresca_, as he called
it himself; but no sooner did he see the party enter the court-yard,
than up he started, notwithstanding his age and his fat, both of which
were considerable, and hurrying forward to do the honours to his
guests, called loudly for Bianca and Maria, and Pietronillo, to assist
in making the visitors comfortable. The whole house was bustle and
confusion in a moment; and although it could not afford accommodation
to all, yet the Earl of Gowrie and his own immediate companions found
every thing they could desire. Austin Jute was immediately sent back
to bring his fellow-servants, who were coming down the river with the
horses; and the boatmen were lodged in the neighbouring houses, to
fill the pitying ears of the villagers with moving tales of disasters
undergone.
Such details were not wanting to excite the interest, and in some
degree the wonder of the host, his daughters, and his son. There was
something in the air, the countenance, and even in the dress of the
gentlemen who made the house their temporary residence, which seemed
to show that they were foreigners; yet two of them spoke the language
with the most perfect purity even of accent, and not the slightest
tone of their fair companion indicated that she was not a native of
the country. But then, in her case, her dress was that of a mere
Paduan peasant on a gala day, while her language, her manners, and her
whole appearance, denoted a much higher station, and from time to time
she spoke to her companions in another tongue, without the slightest
appearance of difficulty or hesitation. The pretty country girl, too,
who aided her to change her wet garments for others which she kindly
and willingly supplied, brought down the report that every part of her
dress but the mere gown and bodice, were of the very finest materials,
and that she had taken from her bosom a trinket shaped like a heart,
surrounded with what seemed to her, jewels of inestimable value.
The rooms which were assigned to the travellers were somewhat
difficult to allot, for each, as was and is still very common in
Italian houses, opened into the other; and the young earl had
determined that thenceforth Julia should be guarded by himself. When
he pointed out, therefore, as they passed through them, the end
chamber of the whole suite as that which was best suited to her, and
took possession of the next for himself, good Mr. Rhind's severe
notions seemed a little shocked, and though he did not venture to make
any observation, he looked exceedingly grave.
Lord Gowrie took no notice, though he did not fail to remark the
change of expression, for from the few private words which had passed
between himself and Julia, he felt that the time had come when it
would be necessary very speedily to give whatever explanation he
thought needful. It could not, indeed, be afforded at the moment, but
a few minutes after, stopping one of the daughters of the host, he
said, "Stay a moment, Bianchina. The signora may be alarmed at
sleeping in a strange house alone. You must kindly take the other bed
in her chamber."
"With much pleasure, sir," replied the girl, and tripped away. This
being arranged to the satisfaction of Lord Gowrie, and even to that of
Mr. Rhind, there remained another feat to be accomplished, which was,
to obtain a quiet unwatched private conversation with Julia, in which
he might learn all that had befallen her. The few words which she had
spoken on the bank of the river had given him a general knowledge of
the greater misfortunes which had happened, but to a heart that loved
as his did, the smallest particular, the most minute detail was
interesting. He longed to hear her tell all, to comfort her for all,
and his imagination, which was quick and eager, painted all that she
had endured--the sorrow, the terror, the agitation. He grieved
bitterly that he had not been present to protect and to console her at
the time when such evils had over-shadowed and such difficulties
obstructed her path of life, and he thirsted to pour the balm of
sympathy and affection into the gentle heart so bruised.
Many an obstacle presented itself, however, during the next hour, to
any private communication. The whole house was in a bustle; beds were
to be made, rooms arranged, supper prepared. Julia had to change her
dripping garments and to obtain others; the earl to give various
orders, and to bestow the promised compensation upon the boatmen; the
host, his son, his daughters, and a maid were running from room to
room, and chattering with everybody; the servants who had been left to
follow with the horses arrived to increase the numbers and the
confusion, and some time after Austin Jute made his appearance,
bearing the little packet which Julia had carried with her from Padua.
"Nothing is lost," he observed, "but what is at the bottom of the sea.
Search saves seeking. All deep things have a bottom."
It was easier to obtain speech of him than of Julia at that moment,
and the earl soon learned all that Austin himself knew--the death of
good old Manucci, the wild and absurd rumours which had spread after
his decease, and the risk which the beautiful girl herself had run of
being committed to prison upon the charge of taking part in the old
man's supposed unlawful arts, and being imbued with heretical notions.
The means taken to effect her escape were then detailed, and Austin
Jute went on to say, "We got on very well that night, my lord, and
reached a little country inn which I remembered well, at Battaglia,
where, although the accommodation was poor enough, I thought we should
be in safety. I was forced to tell many a lie, it is true, and say
that the young lady was my sister, which the people believed, because
we spoke nothing but English to each other, although the family
likeness is not very great, and she was dressed like an Italian girl.
The next morning, however, I found that there were people out in
pursuit of us. One of the sparrow-hawks had stopped at the inn in the
night to refresh his horse and himself; and refreshing himself
somewhat too much, he chattered about his errand, for when the wine is
in, the wit is out, my lord. The people of the place were all agog
about it, for they had not had a bit of sorcery and heresy for a long
time; and from their talk I found that he was going towards Rovigo to
give orders at the ferries and the bridges for apprehending us. That
forced us to turn out of our way, and cross the Adige higher up; but I
made up for lost time by selling the two asses, and buying two good
horses, and we crossed the country between the Adige and the Po quick
enough. The difficulty was how to get over this great river, for I did
not doubt that our picture had been painted at every passage house;
and besides, I had seen, two or three times, a man who seemed to me
watching us. I went along the bank, therefore, till I found the boat
in which we did try to cross just ready to start with some of the
peasants. For a high bribe the man agreed to take us and our horses,
though it's against the law; but just as we were putting off, down
came the black looking fellow whom I had seen several times following,
jumped off his horse, tied the beast to the boat post, and forced his
way into the boat. All the rest you know, my lord, and all I can say
is, if he was upon a bad errand, the fellow has gone to answer for it.
He tried hard to drown me, but I would not let him."
Such was Austin Jute's brief tale; and in a few minutes after, the
boatman, Mantini, came in to receive what had been promised him. His
calculation regarding the value of the boat which had been lost seemed
to be just and even moderate; and after having paid him his demand,
the earl added ten Venetian ducats more.
"I cannot recall your brother to life, my good friend," said Gowrie,
"nor can I compensate for his loss to you and others; but if he has
left any children, distribute that small sum amongst them, on the part
of a foreign gentleman who sincerely commiserates their misfortune."
The rough boatman, with the quick emotions of the south, caught his
hand and kissed it, saying, "God bless you, sir!" He then turned away
towards the door, but paused before he reached it, and coming back, he
said in a low voice, "I hear you know the signora who was in our boat;
and I think, from the way you looked at her, that you love her. If so,
start to-morrow morning at daybreak, avoid Ferara and all this side of
Italy, and get into the Parmesan, or some place where they will not
look for you."
The earl gazed at him for a moment in silence, and then replied, "This
is indeed a valuable hint, my good friend, if you have just cause for
suspecting any evil intended against us. So far I will acknowledge you
are right: the young lady is well known to me, and her safety is
dearer to me than my own."
"I _have_ just cause, signor," replied the man. "The river has
delivered the signora from one of those who were pursuing her, but
there are others watching for her at Ferara, and all along the course
of the stream. The man who came into our boat just as we were putting
off--he who was drowned, I mean--told me, in a whisper, that he was a
messenger of the holy office, and bade me run to Occhiobello at once,
to ask the podesta for assistance to apprehend the lady and the man
who was with her, as soon as we landed from the boat. It was that made
me say he brought a curse with him, for he seemed to rejoice as much
at the thought of catching a poor young thing like that, as others
would at making her happy. I heard all about the plans they had laid
for taking her; and he said it was the duty of every one to give
instant information. I shall give none, and you are safe for me; but
there are other people here who will be chattering, and the noise of
the loss of the two boats, and the drowning of two men, will bring
plenty of inquiries to-morrow morning. If I can put them on a wrong
scent, however, I will."
The earl thanked him warmly for his information, and then held a
hurried consultation with Hume, to which, at the end of a few minutes,
Austin Jute was called. It was evident, no time was to be lost in
preparing for a very early departure on the following morning. Horses
had to be purchased, to supply the place of those which had been
drowned; and it seemed also needful to procure a different dress for
Julia, as it was now clear that the persons in pursuit of her had
obtained information of the costume in which she had left Padua; and
moreover, her travelling in the garments of a peasant girl, with three
gentlemen in a high station in society, would assuredly attract
attention at every inn where they stopped. Where or how this change of
apparel was to be obtained, proved a very puzzling question; for
although the use of ready-made garments was in that day much more
common than at present, yet it was not to be expected that the village
could supply such, nor that even Occhiobello possessed a shop where
anything of the kind could be obtained.
"I will go and talk to one of the girls of the house about it," said
Hume. "There is supper being served, I see. You go in, Gowrie, and
partake, while I seize upon Bianchina or her sister, and try to
discover what is to be done."
He was more fortunate than might have been anticipated, for he found
the two daughters of the innkeeper together, and quite willing to
enter into conversation or gossip upon any subject he chose.
Nevertheless, it was not very easy to explain to them what he wanted,
without explaining, at the same time, Julia's dangerous and painful
situation; but when he had at length accomplished the task, well or
ill, the younger girl looked at her sister with an expression of
intelligence.
"So," she said, "the lady wants a dress, does she? and that is all.
Well, I think that can be easily procured for her. Don't you remember,
Bianca, the Venetian lady who was here last year, and left a coffre
behind her?"
"Well," replied the other sister, looking shrewdly at Sir John Hume,
"I thought, when first I set eyes on her, that the signora was not
peasant born. Now, I'll warrant me, she has stolen away in disguise
from home, some dark night, to meet her lover here; and the wild river
had well nigh given them a mournful bridal bed--'tis very strange that
all the elements seem to make war against love. I never yet heard of
any of these stolen matches going forward without being crossed for a
while by storms and accidents."
Sir John Hume thought it might be no bad policy to suffer the turn
which the light-hearted girl had given to the fair Julia's flight and
disguise, to remain uncontradicted; and he replied, laughing, "Well,
thou art a little divineress. Don't you think I'm a proper man for any
fair lady to run away from home to mate with?"
"No, no," answered the girl, with a shrewd glance; "it is not you she
came to mate with; it is your friend; and you stand by, like the dog
by his master's chair, watching the good things provided for him, and
only taking what scraps he gives you--Ha! ha! gay signor, have I
touched you?"
"By my faith you have, and hit hard," replied Sir John Hume; "but I
will have a kiss for that, Bianchina, before we part."
"It must be in the dark, then," cried the girl, laughing, "for fear I
should see your face and not like it."
"But about this Venetian lady's goods and chattels, my two pretty
maids," said the young knight, recurring to the subject. "We cannot
break her coffre open and steal her apparel."
"Trouble not your brain with that, gay signor," answered the girl
Maria. "We will not make you take part in robbery."
"Unless you steal my heart, and I lose it willingly," replied the
knight.
"No fear of that; it is not worth stealing," replied the girl. "If it
has been bestowed on every country girl you meet, it must be well nigh
worn out by this time. As to the apparel, it belongs to us, now. That
sweet lady's case was much of the same sort as this one's. She fled
from a hard father at Venice, and came hither to meet her lover, and
fly with him to Bergamo; but, by some mischance, it was nine whole
days before he found her, and all that time we hid her close, though
the pursuers tracked her almost to our door. We used to sit with her,
too, and comfort her, and talk of love, and how fortune often favoured
it at last, after having crossed it long. At the end of the nine days,
the young marquis came and found her; but as they were obliged to fly
for their lives on horseback, the coffre was left behind; and when she
got home and was married, she wrote to bid us keep it for her love,
and divide the contents between us. They are not garments fit for such
as we are; long black robes, which would cover our feet and ankles,
and trail upon the ground, mantles and hoods, and veils of Venice
lace. We cut up one velvet cloak, to make us bodices for holidays, but
that is all we have taken yet; and we can well spare the lady garments
enough for her journey, and more becoming her than those which now she
wears."
This was very satisfactory news to the young Earl of Gowrie, when his
friend joined him at supper, after parting from the two gay girls
above, with an adieu better suited to the manners of that day than to
our notions in the present times. As soon as supper was over, he
hastened with his friend and Julia to conclude the bargain for the
contents of the Venetian lady's coffre; and, to say truth, though
good-humoured, lively, and kind-hearted, the innkeeper's two daughters
showed a full appreciation of that with which they were parting, and
did not suffer it to go below its value. To make up, however, for this
little trait of interestedness, Maria and Bianchina set instantly to
work with needles and thread and scissors, to make the garments fit
their new owner; and leaving Julia with them, after a whispered
petition that she would join him soon in the gardens, the earl went
down again to the eating room, purposing at once to enter in
explanation with Mr. Rhind, in order to save grave looks or
admonitions for the future.
He found his former tutor, however, sound asleep, worn out with the
fatigues and anxieties of the day, and soothed to slumber by a hearty
supper and a stoup of as good wine as the village could afford.
"Faith, Gowrie," said Sir John Hume, "I could well nigh follow old
Rhind's example; but I may as well stroll through the village first,
and see what is going on. There is nothing like keeping watch and
ward. Will you come?"
The earl, however, declined, and strolled out into the gardens, which
extended to the banks of that little river which, taking its rise
somewhat above Nonantola, joins the Po not much higher up than
Occhiobello.