After receiving the more formal salutations of Attilio and Orazio, Julia
did not forget to turn for a little towards her lover, who had remained
during all these demonstrations somewhat eclipsed and confused.
Muzio, even when a child of the streets, had always maintained that
decorum of person and propriety of manner which the remembrance of his
noble birth imposed upon him; and now Julia had reason indeed to admire
the change wrought in him by his life in the forest.
The position of the last scion of the house of Pompeo had truly improved
of late. Scipio, the faithful and devoted servant who had voluntarily
taken charge of him when a baby, and tended him with such devoted
affection, was dead; but before dying, he imparted, by writing, to
Cardinal S------, Muzio s maternal uncle, the history of his young
master's life, and a statement of his family property. The prelate gave
his solicitor orders to put himself in communication with Muzio, to
supply him with all he needed, and to endeavor to bring him back into
the sheepfold of respectability.
The prelate, moreover, had kindly intentions towards his nephew on his
own part, and meditated adding something from his own possessions to
the paternal estates which had passed so fraudulently into the hands of
Paolotti's vultures, and which he saw the way to recover.
This sudden change of fortune happened to Muzio about the end of the
year 1866, in which the Italians, in spite of the undesirable means
used, gained re-possession of their own soil, and got rid of the foreign
friends of the priesthood.
It was, therefore, not an untimely thing for
Cardinal S------ to be able to say, "I have a nephew who is a Liberal,
and one of the first temper, too." It was become of consequence, even to
a prelate, to be on friendly terms with such a nephew.
Julia contemplated the transformation of Muzio's appearance and apparel
with natural pleasure, yet she had loved him so much as a wanderer of
the city, that she almost wished him back again in the poor but graceful
cloak of a Trastevere model.
Muzio made no audible reply to his lady's gentle words of recognition,
but kissed her hand with a devotion that needed no speeches to mark its
intensity, and which could not be better translated than by his enamored
mistress's heart.
And Clelia and Irene were, of course, happy at being once more safe
in the society of their chosen. Happiness was depicted upon all these
youthful faces; and, in truth, it is necessary to; confess that, opposed
as all good hearts are to bloodshed, the hour of victory is a glorious
one, and we, like many others, have enjoyed that wild and stem delight.
At that moment the mind does not much reflect that the field is covered
with the wounded and the dying. Their cries and our own exhaustion are
alike unheeded. We are victorious; our cause has conquered. We have
routed the enemies. All meetings on the field take a joyous tone from
that proud thought, and every fresh friend, as he comes up, receives a
hearty squeeze of the hand, and is a centre of fresh congratulations.
Brothers have killed brothers. Yes, alas! Manzoni is right! but the
heart of man forgets that sad verity so long as the flush of victory
is cast upon it. Ah! when will the people become brethren indeed, and
exchange the savage bliss of triumph for the noble and placid joys of
peace? Ere long, let us hope! So, be sure, hoped and prayed that band,
under an ancient oak upon the emerald sod of the forest, where the
chiefs of the proscribed sat with those noble and tender women whose
strange fate had brought them together on the field of conflict. They
were so beautiful, so attractive to be in such a place! With faces
kindled by pride and love, they spread around them a light of joy and
a sense of praise and sanction; an atmosphere of grace mingled with
gallant spirit, which almost rendered their companions eager to fight
again and again under such glorious eyes.
Silvia was the first to break the thread of felicitations, and said to
Julia, "But Manlio, where did you leave him?"
"Manlio," replied the English woman, "is with the Recluse on the island;
I left him in excellent health, and promised to take him news of you."
"And what is the General's opinion concerning affairs in Rome?" asked
Attilio.
"He," replied Julia, "approves of the noble conduct of the few Romans
who harass the Papal Government, and who protest by their rebellion to
the world that that abomination is no longer compatible with the age;
yet he applauds also the endurance with which you have waited for a
general movement until now, so as not to trouble the advancement of
national unity, thus depriving the foreigner of a pretext to create
further obstacles. But at the same time he is of opinion that as long as
the Italian Government continues to remain kneeling at the feet of the
Master of France, and, to please him, renounces Rome as the capital of
our fatherland--while it supports the wicked priesthood, you must be
ready to decide these questions by arms, and that every man-in Italy who
possesses an Italian heart ought to be prepared to support you."
"Yes," said Muzio, who had been muttering the word "endurance" ever
since it was spoken by Julia--"yes, but patience is the virtue of the
ass. We Romans have had too much of it; we have been, and still are
superabundantly asinine. It is a disgrace to us that we still tolerate
the roost iniquitous and degrading of human tyrannies, and suffer the
priests to be our jailers."
"And is this island from which you come far off?" inquired the gentle
Silvia, who was thinking most about the dear companion of her life.
"Could we not go and pass a few days there?"
"Nothing is easier," answered Julia, to whom the question was put. "We
are close to the frontier, we have only to cross it, and make our way
to Leghorn, where the _Seagull_ is lying, and sail from thence to the
island, which is not far distant. But you must also know of the marriage
of Captain Thompson and your friend Aurelia, which took place lately in
that solitary retreat in the simple patriarchal manner, for there are no
priests there."
"Per _la grazia di Dio!_" here exclaimed Orazio to himself, rising and
stretching his athletic figure to its full height, as he cast a look
to the western extremity of the wood. "What are these fresh arrivals?"
whereupon they all saw advancing towards them a robust youth,
accompanied by a beautiful girl, not much his junior, but upon whose
melancholy face the traces of suffering and misfortune were too plainly
visible.
The new-comers were quickly perceived to be Silvio and Camilla; and here
it should be known that our hunter, after the decision of the Liberals
to abandon the Roman suburbs, went to bid farewell to his unhappy
mistress, whom he could not cease to love, before setting out for the
north.
Arriving at Marcello's house, he was welcomed as usual by Fido and
Marcellino, and found Camilla kneeling, as was her daily habit, beside
her father's grave.
"Just God! can another's crime plunge a simple and innocent soul
into misery and madness for life?" thought Silvio, as he regarded the
prostrate girl, and almost unconsciously he prayed aloud, "Oh, heaven!
restore her reason, and to me the star of my life!"
Camilla turned at these words with a look first of fright, then of a
new and wonderful tenderness. It was plain that that compassionate and
forgiving prayer had caused the inmost fibres of her heart to vibrate,
and, obeying a mighty and impulsive instinct, she sank into the old
sweet sanctuary of her lover's arms. With their heads hidden on each
other's breasts, they dispensed with explanations--they made no new
vows--mighty love was healer and interpreter. Tears fell fast from
Camilla's eyes, but not sad tears now. A great sorrow and a bitter sin
had dethroned her reason--a great pardon and a noble love set it back
again in its happy seat.