STRANGE STORY OF SILVA, DUKE DE LUNA.
They found the doctor waiting at the door of the hotel at Mola di Gaeta,
for he had not been able to find any horses to take him on the road to
Forli. He helped Valentino to carry the Duke into a room on the
ground-floor, looking into the garden, from whence was the loveliest
view in all Italy. Mr. Chandos saw the sufferer laid on the bed near the
window, and then left him in the doctor’s hands, who promised to come
and inform him how the Duke was as soon as he had examined the wounds.
The other carriage had arrived first, and they found Mrs. Chandos and
the rest of the party in a set of luxurious rooms on the next floor,
commanding the same lovely view. Mrs. Chandos was still very ill and
nervous, and very much puzzled to know how it happened that the Duke of
Luna, of all people in the world, had chanced to appear just at that
moment. She also reproached herself when she found that her husband and
his daughters were actually shut up in the carriage with him. She
regretted that she had not told Mr. Chandos of the Duke’s impertinence
to her at the ball.
Her first impulse had been to tell him as soon as she got safe home, on
the night of the D---- Palace ball, but he was asleep, and she
remembered that Norah, and that beautiful Princess C----, had not seemed
to be so deeply impressed with the heinousness of his offence; so her
second determination had been to say nothing about it, for it might only
make her husband angry or annoyed.
On their arrival at the hotel, Mrs. Chandos was surprised to see the
great anxiety they evinced about the Duke, for Mr. Chandos could think
and talk of nothing else. He inquired of the landlord about the
capabilities of the Italian doctor, and expressed a wish to send at once
to Naples for an English physician who lived there.
The landlord declared that Dr. Mangello was most able and
conscientious, that many English families had approved of his treatment,
and he felt sure that if the case was a difficult one, he would be
certain to ask for assistance. A few minutes after this conversation Dr.
Mangello knocked at the door, and, with a face of alarm, begged that
another doctor should be sent for immediately. He had extracted one ball
successfully, but he found there was another in a very dangerous place,
and he could not venture to operate without the sanction of a first-rate
surgeon.
On hearing this, Valentino offered to ride off immediately to Naples,
and, if possible, bring back Dr. Nelson before the next morning. Dr.
Mangello then expressed a hope that Mr. Chandos and the young lady
would go down and sit with his patient after they had dined, as he was
in a most desponding state of mind, and was possessed with the idea that
he should not live through the night.
“He seems to have no hope, either in this world or the next; no faith, I
fear,” said Dr. Mangello, with an anxious and pained look, which Mr.
Chandos and his daughter both observed, and which tended to give them
confidence in the doctor’s good feeling.
He was obliged to go and see another patient, but would return in an
hour or two, and bring a nurse to attend upon the Duke through the
night.
Norah happened to have heard rumours of some strange events which had
befallen the Spanish grandee in his early youth, before she saw him for
the first time at Princess D----’s ball; and when she heard him speak
Spanish to a lady who was standing near her, and saw his extraordinarily
handsome face, she immediately fancied that it was the Duke de Luna.
The romantic story of his early life had, in fact, been related to her
by Sir Alfred Rivers several years ago, and when she heard that he was
in Rome, it reminded her of the strange history. The details of it were
partly confirmed by Countess Donati, whose grandmother was a Spaniard,
and had been educated in the same convent with the Duke’s mother.
Norah had been glad to hear her version of it, as it showed the Duke’s
character to less disadvantage than the current report which was afloat
in the world.
Before they went down to see the Duke that evening, Norah related to her
father and Mrs. Chandos what she had heard, as she thought, if now the
sufferer were really in danger, her father could be of more use if he
knew his history.
Silva, Duke de Luna, was the second son of a rich and powerful grandee,
and in early childhood he and his elder brother were betrothed to two
sisters--nieces of his mother. Silva’s intended was the eldest of the
sisters, Clotilda, and heiress to very large estates; while Bianca, the
youngest, was affianced to the eldest, Luna. By this means it was
intended that both brothers should inherit princely fortunes, and all
the vast possessions would be kept in the same family.
The children were all brought up together, until the brothers went to
the University; and on their return home after their education was
finished, they found their two _fiancées_ still living in the Luna
Palace with their father, for the sisters’ parents were dead. Bianca,
the younger sister, had grown up to be far the most beautiful of the
two; and Silva de Luna, unfortunately for himself and the whole family,
fell in love with his brother’s betrothed; and his love was of the true
Spanish kind--vehement and all-powerful, and, what was still worse,
unluckily it was returned.
Don Silva did not discover this at first, and Countess Donati mentioned
that he endeavoured to keep his faith with the elder sister for some
weeks after his return. But about a month before the day fixed for the
two marriages, Don Silva met Bianca by chance one evening in the palace
gardens, unattended by her usually inseparable duenna.
It was the only time since their early childhood that he had seen her
alone. The opportunity was irresistible, and under the moonlit
orange-groves of Granada he declared his love. Donna Bianca endeavoured
to remind him that she was his brother’s betrothed; but her words were
contradicted by her beautiful eyes and the blushes on her glowing
cheeks.
He saw that her heart was his, and, unable any longer to control his
feelings, he pressed her in his arms. The next moment his brother’s
voice was heard, and a fearful scene ensued. Some reports were to the
effect that the brothers fought on the spot, and that the eldest, Don
Fernando, was badly wounded, and that Bianca ran into the house
shrieking for help. The result seemed to be that Don Fernando
immediately left home and joined the army in Cuba, where he was soon
afterwards killed in some engagement. The two sisters retired into a
convent, for poor Bianca found that Clorinda was broken-hearted at the
desertion of her betrothed. So Bianca resolved to sacrifice her love for
her sister’s sake, and they both took the veil on the very day which had
been fixed for their bridal.
Don Silva was said to have been deeply attached to his brother before
the fatal love for the wrong sister nearly extinguished all his better
feelings, and when the news of Don Fernando’s untimely end arrived, the
anguish of remorse for having been the cause of his brother’s death
became unbearable. He sought every kind of distraction that could afford
a temporary forgetfulness, and plunged into dissipation and gambling. He
visited all the great European capitals in search of change and
amusement, totally neglecting his father and all the duties of his high
position.
At last the news of his father’s dangerous illness reached him during a
gay Winter season in Paris; and a letter from the family doctor and
priest implored him to return home, and see his father before his
death. He went, but he only arrived in time to attend the old Duke’s
funeral; and afterwards he became more reckless and broken-hearted than
ever. He quitted his ancestral home and great possessions, and had never
returned there since.
Mr. Chandos was deeply touched at the history; and he gathered some
hopes from it that the Duke’s present suffering and dangerous state
might be the means of awakening the better feelings of his nature, and
lead to ultimate peace, if not happiness.