RENALDO ABRIDGES THE PROCEEDINGS AT LAW, AND APPROVES HIMSELF THE SON OF
HIS FATHER.
The Major, finding him determined, insisted upon attending him in this
expedition, and they set out together for Presburg, where they privately
arrived in the dark, resolving to keep themselves concealed at the house
of a friend, until they should have formed some plan for their future
operations. Here they were informed that Count Trebasi's castle was
altogether inaccessible; that all the servants who were supposed to have
the least veneration or compassion for the Countess were dismissed; and
that, since Renaldo was known to be in Germany, the vigilance and caution
of that cruel husband was redoubled to such a degree, that nobody knew
whether his unfortunate lady was actually alive or dead.
Farrel perceiving Melvil exceedingly affected with this intimation, and
hearing him declare that he would never quit Presburg until he should
have entered the house, and removed his doubts on that interesting
subject, not only argued with great vehemence against such an attempt, as
equally dangerous and indiscreet, but solemnly swore he would prevent his
purpose, by discovering his design to the family, unless he would promise
to listen to a more moderate and feasible expedient. He then proposed
that he himself should appear in the equipage of one of the travelling
Savoyards who stroll about Europe, amusing ignorant people with the
effects of a magic lanthorn, and in that disguise endeavour to obtain
admittance from the servants of Trebasi, among whom he might make such
inquiries as would deliver Melvil from his present uneasy suspense.
This proposal was embraced, though reluctantly, by Renaldo, who was
unwilling to expose his friend to the least danger or disgrace; and the
Major being next day provided with the habit and implements of his new
profession, together with a ragged attendant who preceded him, extorting
music from a paltry viol, approached the castle gate, and proclaimed his
show so naturally in a yell, partaking of the scream of Savoy and the
howl of Ireland, that one would have imagined he had been conductor to
Madam Catherina from his cradle. So far his stratagem succeeded; he had
not long stood in waiting before he was invited into the court-yard,
where the servants formed a ring, and danced to the efforts of his
companion's skill; then he was conducted into the buttery, where he
exhibited his figures on the wall, and his princess on the floor; and
while they regaled him in this manner with scraps and sour wine, he took
occasion to inquire about the old lady and her daughter, before whom he
said he had performed in his last peregrination. Though this question
was asked with all that air of simplicity which is peculiar to these
people, one of the domestics took the alarm, being infected with the
suspicions of his master, and plainly taxed the Major with being a spy,
threatening at the same time that he should be stripped and searched.
This would have been a very dangerous experiment for the Hibernian, who
had actually in his pocket a letter to the Countess from her son, which
he hoped fortune might have furnished him with an opportunity to deliver.
When he therefore found himself in this dilemma, he was not at all easy
in his own mind. However, instead of protesting his innocence in an
humble and beseeching strain, in order to acquit himself of the charge,
he resolved to elude the suspicion by provoking the wrath of his accuser,
and, putting on the air of vulgar integrity affronted, began to reproach
the servant in very insolent terms for his unfair supposition, and
undressed himself in a moment to the skin, threw his tattered garments in
the face of his adversary, telling him he would find nothing there which
he would not be very glad to part with; at the same time raising his
voice, he, in the gibberish of the clan he represented, scolded and
cursed with great fluency, so that the whole house resounded with the
noise. The valet's jealousy, like a smaller fire, was in a trice
swallowed up in the greater flame of his rage enkindled by this abrupt
address. In consequence of which, Farrel was kicked out at the gate,
naked as he was to the waist, after his lanthorn had been broke to pieces
on his head; and there he was joined by his domestic, who had not been
able to recover his apparel and effect a retreat, without incurring marks
of the same sort of distinction.
The Major, considering the risk he must have run in being detected,
thought himself cheaply quit for this moderate discipline, though he was
really concerned for his friend Renaldo, who, understanding the
particulars of the adventure, determined, as the last effort, to ride
round the castle in the open day, on pretence of taking the air, when,
peradventure, the Countess would see him from the place of her
confinement, and favour him with some mark or token of her being alive.
Though his companion did not much relish this plan, which he foresaw
would expose him to the insults of Trebasi, yet, as he could not contrive
a better, he acquiesced in Renaldo's invention, with the proviso that he
would defer the execution of it until his father-in-law should be absent
in the chase, which was a diversion he every day enjoyed.
Accordingly they set a proper watch, and lay concealed until they were
informed of Trebasi's having gone forth; when they mounted their horses,
and rode into the neighbourhood of the castle. Having made a small
excursion in the adjoining fields, they drew nearer the walls, and at an
easy pace had twice circled them, when Farrel descried, at the top of a
tower, a white handkerchief waved by a woman's hand through the iron bars
that secured the window. This signal being pointed out to Renaldo, his
heart began to throb with great violence; he made a respectful obeisance
towards the part in which it appeared, and perceiving the hand beckoning
him to approach, advanced to the very buttress of the turret; upon which,
seeing something drop, he alighted with great expedition, and took up a
picture of his father in miniature, the features of which he no sooner
distinguished, than the tears ran down his cheeks; he pressed the little
image to his lips with the most filial fervour; then conveying it to his
bosom, looked up to the hand, which waved in such a manner as gave him to
understand it was high time to retire. Being by this time highly
persuaded that his kind monitor was no other than the Countess herself,
he pointed to his heart, in token of his filial affection, and laying his
hand on his sword, to denote his resolution of doing her justice, he took
his leave with another profound bow, and suffered himself to be
reconducted to his lodging.
Every circumstance of this transaction was observed by the servants of
Count Trebasi, who immediately despatched a messenger to their lord, with
an account of what had happened. Alarmed at this information, from which
he immediately concluded that the stranger was young Melvil, he forthwith
quitted the chase, and returning to the castle by a private postern,
ordered his horse to be kept ready saddled, in hope that his son-in-law
would repeat the visit to his mother. This precaution would have been to
no purpose, had Renaldo followed the advice of Farrel, who represented
the danger of returning to a place where the alarm was undoubtedly given
by his first appearance; and exhorted him to return to Vienna for the
prosecution of his suit, now that he was satisfied of his mother's being
alive. In order to strengthen this admonition, he bade him recollect the
signal for withdrawing, which was doubtless the effect of maternal
concern, inspired by the knowledge of the Count's vigilance and
vindictive disposition.
Notwithstanding these suggestions, Melvil persisted in his resolution of
appearing once more below the tower, on the supposition that his mother,
in expectation of his return, had prepared a billet for his acceptance,
from which he might obtain important intelligence. The Major, seeing him
lend a deaf ear to his remonstrances, was contented to attend him in his
second expedition, which he pressed him to undertake that same afternoon,
as Trebasi had taken care to circulate a report of his having gone to
dine at the seat of a nobleman in the neighbourhood. Our knight-errant
and his squire, deceived by this finesse, presented themselves again
under the prison of the Countess, who no sooner beheld her son return,
than she earnestly entreated him to be gone, by the same sign which she
had before used; and he, taking it for granted that she was debarred the
use of pen, ink, and paper, and that she had nothing more to expect,
consented to retire, and had already moved to some distance from the
house, when, in crossing a small plantation that belonged to the castle,
they were met by Count Trebasi and another person on horseback.
At sight of this apparition, the blood mounted into Renaldo's cheeks, and
his eyes began to lighten with eagerness and indignation; which was not
at all diminished by the ferocious address of the Count, who advancing to
Melvil, with a menacing air. "Before you proceed," said he, "I must know
with what view you have been twice to-day patroling round my enclosures,
and reconnoitring the different avenues of my house. You likewise carry
on a clandestine correspondence with some person in the family, of which
my honour obliges me to demand an explanation."
"Had your actions been always regulated by the dictates of honour,"
replied Renaldo, "I should never have been questioned for riding round
that castle, which you know is my rightful inheritance; or excluded from
the sight of a parent who suffers under your tyranny and oppression. It
is my part, therefore, to expostulate; and, since fortune hath favoured
me with an opportunity of revenging our wrongs in person, we shall not
part until you have learned that the family of the Count de Melvil is not
to be injured with impunity. Here is no advantage on either side, in
point of arms or number; you are better mounted than I am, and shall have
the choice of the ground on which our difference ought to be brought to a
speedy determination."
Trebasi, whose courage was not of the sentimental kind, but purely owing
to his natural insensibility of danger, instead of concerting measures
coolly for the engagement, or making any verbal reply to this defiance,
drew a pistol, without the least hesitation, and fired it at the face of
Renaldo, part of whose left eyebrow was carried off by the ball. Melvil
was not slow in returning the compliment, which, as it was deliberate,
proved the more decisive. For the shot entering the Count's right
breast, made its way to the backbone with such a shock, as struck him to
the ground; upon which the other alighted, in order to improve the
advantage he had gained.
During this transaction, Farrel had well-nigh lost his life by the savage
behaviour of Trebasi's attendant, who had been a hussar officer, and who,
thinking it was his duty to imitate the example of his patron on this
occasion, discharged a pistol at the Major, before he had the least
intimation of his design. The Hibernian's horse being a common hireling,
and unaccustomed to stand fire, no sooner saw the flash of Trebasi's
pistol, than, starting aside, he happened to plunge into a hole, and was
overturned at the very instant when the hussar's piece went off, so that
no damage ensued to his rider, who, pitching on his feet, flew with great
nimbleness to his adversary, then, laying hold on one leg, dismounted him
in a twinkling, and, seizing his throat as he lay, would have soon
despatched him without the use of firearms, had he not been prevented by
his friend Renaldo, who desired him to desist, observing that his
vengeance was already satisfied, as the Count seemed to be in the agonies
of death. The Major was loth to quit his prey, as he thought his
aggressor had acted in a treacherous manner; but recollecting that there
was no time to lose, because, in all probability, the firing had alarmed
the castle, he took his leave of the vanquished hussar, with a couple of
hearty kicks, and, mounting his horse, followed Melvil to the house of a
gentleman in the neighbourhood, who was kinsman to the Countess, and very
well disposed to grant him a secure retreat, until the troublesome
consequences of this rencontre should be overblown.
Trebasi, though to the young gentleman he seemed speechless and
insensible, had neither lost the use of his reason nor of his tongue, but
affected that extremity, in order to avoid any further conversation with
the victor. He was one of those people who never think of death until he
knocks at the door, and then earnestly entreat him to excuse them for the
present, and be so good as to call another time. The Count had so often
escaped unhurt, in the course of his campaigns, that he looked upon
himself as invulnerable, and set all danger at defiance. Though he had
hitherto taken no care of the concerns of his soul, he had a large fund
of superstition at bottom; and, when the surgeon, who examined his wound,
declared it was mortal, all the terrors of futurity took hold on his
imagination, all the misdemeanours of his life presented themselves in
aggravated colours to his recollection.
He implored the spiritual assistance of a good priest in the
neighbourhood, who, in the discharge of his own conscience, gave him
to understand that he had little mercy to expect, unless he would,
as much as lay in his power, redress the injuries he had done to his
fellow-creatures. As nothing lay heavier upon his soul than the cruelty
and fraud he had practised upon the family of Count Melvil, he earnestly
besought this charitable clergyman to mediate his pardon with the
Countess, and at the same time desired to see Renaldo before his death,
that he might put him in possession of his paternal estate, and solicit
his forgiveness for the offence he had given.
His lady, far from waiting for the priest's intercession, no sooner
understood the lamentable situation of her husband, and found herself at
liberty, than she hastened to his apartment, expressed the utmost concern
for his misfortune, and tended him with truly conjugal tenderness and
fidelity. Her son gladly obeyed the summons, and was received with great
civility and satisfaction by his father-in-law, who, in presence of the
judge and divers gentlemen assembled for that purpose, renounced all
right and title to the fortune he had so unjustly usurped; disclosed the
name of the convent to which Mademoiselle de Melvil had been conveyed,
dismissed all the agents of his iniquity, and being reconciled to his
son-in-law, began to prepare himself in tranquillity for his latter end.
The Countess was overwhelmed with an excess of joy, while she embraced
her long-lost son, who had proved himself so worthy of his father. Yet
this joy was embittered, by reflecting that she was made a widow by the
hands of that darling son. For, though she knew his honour demanded the
sacrifice, she could not lay aside that regard and veneration which is
attached to the name of husband; and therefore resolved to retire into a
monastery, where she could spend the remainder of her life in devotion,
without being exposed to any intercourse which might interfere with the
delicacy of her sentiments on that subject.