THE INJURED HUSBAND--THE GUILTY WIFE--AND THE INSOLENT LOVER.
In fury of heart and agony of mind, rushed the old lord into that
apartment. Oh! how had he even been able to restrain himself so long,
while listening at the door? It was that the conversation between his
wife and the marquis had, as the reader is aware, been carried on in so
low a tone--especially on the side of the countess, that he had not been
able to gather sufficient to place beyond all doubt the guilt of that
fair creature; and even in the midst of his Italian ire, he had clung to
the hope that she might have been imprudent--but not culpable, as yet!
Oh! in this case, how gladly would that old lord have forgiven the past,
on condition of complete reformation for the future! He would have
removed his young wife afar from the scene of temptation--to a distant
estate which he possessed; and there by gentle remonstrances and
redoubled attention, he would have sought to bind her to him by the
links of gratitude and respect, if not by those of love.
But this dream--so honorable to that old man's heart--was not to be
realized; for scarcely was it conceived, when the discourse of the
youthful pair turned upon the diamonds--those diamonds which he had
given her on the bridal day!
Giulia spoke clearly and plainly enough _then_--in spite of the presence
of the bandit in that chamber; for she was about to explain to her lover
how willingly she would comply with his suggestion to raise upon the
jewels the sum he again required--a readiness on her part which might be
corroborated by the fact that she had already once had recourse to this
expedient, and for _him_--but she dared not adopt the same course again,
as her husband might detect the absence of the valuables ere she could
obtain funds to redeem them.
When she acknowledged to her lover that "these diamonds were pledged to
the Jew Isaachar ben Solomon, to raise the sum with which his last debt
was paid," it flashed to the old nobleman's mind that his wife had
exhibited some little confusion when he had spoken to her a day or two
previously concerning her jewels: and now it was clear that they had
been used as the means to supply the extravagances of an unprincipled
spendthrift. How could he any longer cling to the hope that Giulia was
imprudent only, and not guilty? Must she not be guilty, to have made so
large a sacrifice and run so great a risk for the sake of the Marquis of
Orsini?
It was under the influence of these excited feelings that the Count of
Arestino burst into the room.
Fortunately--so far as outward appearance went--there was nothing more
to confirm the old nobleman's suspicions; the youthful pair were not
locked in each other's arms; their hands were not even joined. Manuel
was seated on the sofa, and Giulia was standing at a short distance from
him.
But conscious guilt elicited a faint scream from her lips; and the
boiling blood, after rushing to her countenance, seemed to ebb away as
rapidly again--leaving her beauteous face as pale as marble; while she
clung to the mantel-piece for support.
"I am glad that your lordship is returned," said the marquis, rising
from his seat and advancing toward the count in a manner so insolently
cool and apparently self-possessed, that Giulia was not only astonished
but felt her courage suddenly revive: "I was determined--however
uncourteous the intrusion and unseemly the hour--to await your
lordship's coming; and as her ladyship assured me that you would not
tarry late----"
"My lord marquis," interrupted the old nobleman, who was himself so
taken by surprise at this unembarrassed mode of address, that he began
to fancy his ears must have deceived him and his suspicions beguiled
him; "on what business could you possibly have needed my services at
this late hour?"
"I will explain myself," returned Orsini, who was a perfect adept in the
art of dissimulation, and who, never losing his presence of mind,
embraced at a glance the whole danger of Giulia's position and his own,
and the probability that their conversation might have been overheard;
"I was explaining to her ladyship the temporary embarrassment under
which I lay, and from which I hoped that your friendship might probably
release me----"
"And her ladyship spoke of her diamonds--did she not?" demanded the
count, addressing himself to the marquis, but fixing a keen and
penetrating glance on Giulia.
"Her ladyship was remonstrating with me on my extravagancies," hastily
replied the marquis, "and was repeating to me--I must say in a manner
too impressive to be agreeable--the words which my own sister had used
to me a few days ago, when explaining, as her motive for refusing me the
succor which I needed, that she actually had been compelled to pledge
her diamonds----"
"Ah! they were your sister's diamonds that were pledged to Isaachar the
Jew?" said the count, half ironically and half in doubt; for he was
fairly bewildered by the matchless impudence of the young marquis.
"Yes, my lord--my dear sister, who, alas! is ruining herself to supply
me with the means of maintaining my rank. And as my sister and her
ladyship, the countess, are on the most friendly terms, as you are well
aware, it is not surprising if she should have communicated the secret
of the diamonds to her ladyship, and also beg her ladyship to
remonstrate with me----"
"Well, my lord," interrupted the count impatiently, "your own private
affairs have no particular interest for me--at this moment; and as for
any business on which you may wish to speak to me, I shall be pleased if
you postpone it till to-morrow."
"Your lordship's wishes are commands with me," said Manuel, with a
polite salutation. And having made a low bow to Giulia, he quitted the
room--not by the private door, be it well understood, but by that which
had ere now admitted the Count of Arestino.
The moment the door had closed behind the Marquis of Orsini, the count
approached his wife, and said in a cold, severe manner: "Your ladyship
receives visitors at a late hour."
He glanced as he spoke toward the dial of the clepsydra, and Giulia
followed his look in the same direction; it was half an hour after
midnight.
"The marquis explained to your lordship, or partially so, the motive of
his importunate visit," said Giulia, endeavoring to appear calm and
collected.
"The marquis is an unworthy--reckless--unprincipled young man,"
exclaimed the count, fixing a stern, searching gaze upon Giulia's
countenance, as if with the iron of his words he would probe the depths
of her soul. "He is a confirmed gamester--overwhelmed with debts--and
has tarnished, by his profligacy, the proud name that he bears. Even the
friendship which existed for many, many years between his deceased
father and myself, shall no longer induce me to receive at this house a
young man whose reputation is all but tainted, even in a city of
dissipation and debauchery, such as, alas! the once glorious Florence
has become! For his immorality is not confined to gaming and wanton
extravagance," continued the count, his glance becoming more keen, as
his words fell like drops of molten lead upon the heart of Giulia; "but
his numerous intrigues amongst women--his perfidy to those confiding and
deceived fair ones----"
"Surely, my lord," said the countess, vainly endeavoring to subdue the
writhings of torture which this language excited,--"surely the Marquis
d'Orsini is wronged by the breath of scandal?"
"No, Giulia, he is an unprincipled spendthrift," returned the count, who
never once took his eyes off his wife's countenance while he was
speaking:--"an unprincipled spendthrift," he added emphatically,--"a man
lost to all sense of honor--a ruined gamester--a heartless seducer--a
shame, a blot, a stigma upon the aristocracy of Florence;--and now that
you are acquainted with his real character, you will recognize the
prudence of the step which I shall take to-morrow--that is, to inform
him that henceforth the Count and Countess of Arestino must decline to
receive him again at their villa. What think you, Giulia?"
"Your lordship is the master to command, and it is my duty to obey,"
answered the countess; but her voice was hoarse and thick, the acutest
anguish was rending her soul, and its intensity almost choked her
utterance.
"She is guilty!" thought the count within himself; and to subdue an
abrupt explosion of his rage, until he had put the last and most certain
test to his lady's faith, he walked twice up and down the room; then,
feeling that he had recovered his powers of self-control, he said,
"To-morrow, Giulia, is the reception day of his highness the duke, and I
hope thou hast made suitable preparations to accompany me in the manner
becoming the wife of the Count of Arestino."
"Can your lordship suppose for an instant that I should appear in the
ducal presence otherwise than is meet and fitting for her who has the
honor to bear your name?" said Giulia, partially recovering her presence
of mind, as the conversation appeared to have taken a turn no longer
painful to her feelings--for, oh! cannot the reader conceive the
anguish, the mortal anguish, she had ere now endured when her husband
was heaping ashes on the reputation of her lover!
"I do not suppose that your ladyship will neglect the preparations due
to your rank and to that name which you esteem it an honor to bear, and
which no living being should _dishonor_ with impunity!"
Giulia quailed--writhed beneath the searching glance which now literally
glared upon her.
"Nevertheless," continued the count, "I was fearful you might have
forgotten that to-morrow is the reception day. And while I think of it,
permit me to examine your diamonds for a few minutes--to convince myself
that the settings are in good order, as you know," he added, with a
strange, unearthly kind of laugh, "that I am skilled in the jewelers'
craft."
The old man paused; but he thought within himself, "Now what subterfuge
can she invent if my suspicions be really true, and if my ears did not
ere now deceive me?"
How profound then was his astonishment, when Giulia, with the calm and
tranquil demeanor which innocence usually wears, but with the least,
least curl of the upper lip, as if in haughty triumph, leisurely and
deliberately drew the jewel-case from beneath the cushion of the ottoman
whereon she was seated, and, handing it to him, said, "Your lordship
perceives that I had not forgotten the reception which his highness
holds to-morrow, since I ere now brought my diamonds hither to select
those which it is my intention to wear."
The count could have pressed her hand as he took the case in his own--he
could have fallen at her feet and demanded pardon for the suspicions
which he had entertained, for it now seemed certain beyond all
possibility of doubt, that the explanation volunteered by the marquis
was a true one--yes, he could have humbled himself in her presence--but
his Italian pride intervened, and he proceeded to examine the diamonds
with no other view than to gain time to reflect how he should account
for the abrupt manner in which he had entered the room ere now, and for
the chilling behavior he had maintained toward his wife.
On her side Giulia, relieved of a fearful weight of apprehension, was
only anxious for this scene to have a speedy termination, that she might
release the robber-captain from his imprisonment behind the tapestry.
Three or four minutes of profound silence now ensued.
But suddenly the count started, and uttered an ejaculation of mingled
rage and surprise.
Giulia's blood ran cold to her very heart's core, she scarcely knew why.
The suspense was not, however, long--though most painful; for, dashing
the jewel-case with its contents upon the table, the old nobleman
approached her with quivering lips and a countenance ghastly white,
exclaiming, "Vile woman! thinkest thou to impose upon me thus? The
diamonds I gave thee are gone--the stones set in their place are
counterfeit!"
Giulia gazed up toward her husband's countenance for a few moments in a
manner expressive of blank despair; then falling on her knees before
him, clasping her hands together, she screamed frantically, "Pardon!
pardon!"
"Ah! then it is all indeed too true!" murmured the unhappy nobleman,
staggering as if with a blow: but, recovering his balance, he stamped
his foot resolutely upon the floor, and drawing himself up to his full
height, while he half averted his eyes from his kneeling wife, he
exclaimed: "Lost--guilty--abandoned woman, how canst thou implore pardon
at my hands? For pardon is mercy, and what mercy hast thou shown to me?
Giulia, I am descended from an old and mighty race, and tradition
affords no room to believe that any one who has borne the name of
Arestino has dishonored it--until now! Oh! fool--dotard--idiot that I
was to think that a young girl could love an aged man like me! For old
age is a weed, which, when twined round the plant of love, becomes like
the deadly nightshade, and robs the rose-bush of its health! Alas! alas!
I thought that in my declining years, I should have one to cheer me, one
who might respect me, if she could not love me--one who would manifest
some gratitude for the proud position I have given her--and the
boundless wealth that it would have been my joy to leave her. And now
that hope is gone--withered--crushed--blighted, woman, by thy perfidy!
Oh! wherefore did you accompany the old man to the altar, if only to
deceive him? Wherefore did you consent to become his bride, if but to
plunge him into the depth of misery? You weep! Ah! weep on; and all
those tears, be they even so scalding as to make seams on that too fair
face, cannot wipe away the stain which is now affixed to the haughty
name of Arestino! Weep on, Giulia; but thy tears cannot move me now!"
And the old lord's tone changed suddenly from the deep, touching pathos
of tremulousness to a stern, fixed, cold severity, which stifled the
germs of hope that had taken birth in the heart of his guilty wife.
"Mercy! mercy!" she shrieked, endeavoring to grasp his hand.
"No!" thundered the Count of Arestino; and he rang violently a silver
bell which stood upon the table.
"Holy Virgin, what will become of me? For what fate am I destined?"
implored Giulia, frantically.
The old nobleman approached her, gazed on her sternly for nearly a
minute, then bending down said, in a hollow, sepulchral tone:
"Thou art doomed to eternal seclusion in the convent of the Carmelites!"
He then turned hastily round and advanced to the door, to which steps
were already distinctly heard drawing near in the corridor.
For an instant Giulia seemed paralyzed by the dreadful announcement that
had been made to her; but suddenly a ray of hope flashed on her mind,
and darting toward that part of the tapestry behind which the robber was
concealed, she said, in a low and rapid tone:
"Thou hast heard the fate that awaits me. I charge thee to seek Manuel
d'Orsini, and let him know all."
"Fear not, lady; you shall be saved!" answered Stephano, in a scarcely
audible but yet profoundly emphatic whisper.
She had only just time to turn away when the count's faithful valet,
accompanied by three nuns, wearing their black veils over their faces,
entered the room.
Half an hour afterward the Carmelite Convent received another inmate.