FRA PACIFICO AND THE MARCHESA.
On the evening of that day the marchesa was in her own room, opening
from the sala. The little furniture the room contained was collected
around the marchesa, forming a species of oasis on the broad desert
of the scagliola floor. A brass lamp, placed on a table, formed the
centre of this habitable spot. The marchesa sat in deep shadow, but
in the outline of her tall, slight figure, and in the carriage of
her head and neck, there was the same indomitable pride, courage, and
energy, as before. A paper lay on the ground near her; it was Nobili's
letter. Fra Pacifico sat opposite to her. He was speaking. His
deep-set luminous eyes were fixed on the marchesa. His straight,
coarse hair was pushed up erect upon his brow; there was at all times
something of a mane about it. His cassock sat loosely about his big,
well-made limbs; his priestly stock was loosed, showing the dark skin
of his throat and chin. In the turn of his eye, in the expression of
his countenance, there were anxiety, restlessness, and distrust.
"Yes--Enrica has recovered for the present," he was saying, "but such
an attack saps and weakens the very issues of life. Count Nobili, if
not brought to reason, would break her heart." She was obstinately
silent. The balance of her mind was partially upset. "'I shall never
see Nobili again,' was all she would say to me. It is a pity, I think,
that you sent the cavaliere away to Lucca. Enrica might have opened
her mind to him."
As he spoke, Fra Pacifico crossed one of his legs over the other, and
arranged the heavy folds of his cassock over his knees.
"And who says Enrica shall not see Nobili again?" asked the marchesa,
defiantly. "Holy saints! That is my affair. I want no advice. My honor
is now as much concerned in the completion of this marriage as it was
before to prevent it. The contract has been signed in my presence.
The money agreed upon has been paid over to me. The marriage must take
place. I have sent Trenta to Lucca to make preliminary arrangements."
"I rejoice to hear it," answered Fra Pacifico, his countenance
brightening. "There must be some extraordinary mistake. The cavaliere
will explain it. Some enemies of your family must have misled Count
Nobili, especially as there was a certain appearance of concealment
respecting Count Marescotti. It will all come right. I only feared
lest the language of that letter would have, in your opinion, rendered
the marriage impossible."
"That letter does not move me in the least," answered the marchesa
haughtily, speaking out of the shadow. She gave the letter a kick,
sending it farther from her. "I care neither for praise nor insult
from such a fellow. He is but an instrument in my hand. He has,
however, justified my bad opinion of him. I am glad of that. Do you
imagine, my father," she added, leaning forward, and bringing her head
for an instant within the circle of the light--"do you imagine any
thing but absolute necessity would have induced me to allow Count
Nobili ever to enter my presence?"
"I am bound to tell you that your pride is un-Christian, my daughter."
Fra Pacifico spoke with warmth. "I cannot permit such language in my
presence."
The marchesa waved her hand contemptuously, then contemplated him, a
smile upon her face.
"I have long known Count Nobili. He has the faults of his age. He
is impulsive--vain, perhaps--but at the same time he is loyal and
generous. He was not himself when he wrote that letter. There is a
passionate sorrow about it that convinces me of this. He has been
misled. The offer you sanctioned of Enrica's hand to Count Marescotti,
has been misrepresented to him. Undoubtedly Nobili ought to have
sought an explanation before he left Lucca; but, the more he loved
Enrica, the more he must have suffered before he could so address
her."
"You justify Count Nobili, then, my father, not only for abandoning
my niece, but for endeavoring to blast her character? Is this your
Christianity?" The marchesa asked this question with bitter scorn;
her keen eyes shone mockingly out of the darkness. "I told you what he
was, remember. I have some knowledge of him and of his father."
"My daughter, I do not defend him. If need be, I have sworn to punish
him with my own hand. But, until I know all the circumstances, I pity
him; I repeat, I pity him. Some powerful influence must have been
brought to bear upon Nobili. It may have been a woman."
"Ha! ha!" laughed the marchesa, contemptuously. "You admit, then,
Nobili has a taste for women?"
Fra Pacifico rose suddenly from his chair. An expression of deep
displeasure was on his face, which had grown crimson under the
marchesa's taunts.
"I desire no altercation, marchesa, nor will I permit you to address
such unseemly words to me. What I deem fitting I shall say, now and
always. It is my duty. You have called me here. What do you want? How
can I help you? In all things lawful I am ready to do so. Nay, I will
take the whole matter on myself if you desire."
As he spoke, Fra Pacifico stooped and raised Nobili's crumpled letter
from the floor. He spread it out open on the table. The marchesa
motioned to him to reseat himself. He did so.
"What I want?" she said, taking up the priest's words. "I will tell
you. When I bring Count Nobili here"--the marchesa spoke very slowly,
and stretched out her long fingers, as though she held him already in
her grasp--"when I bring Count Nobili here, I want you to perform
the marriage ceremony. It must take place immediately. Under the
circumstances the marriage had better be private."
"I shall not perform the ceremony," answered Fra Pacifico, his full,
deep voice ringing through the room, "at your bidding only. Enrica
must also consent. Enrica must consent in my presence."
As the light of the lamp struck upon Fra Pacifico, the lines about his
mouth deepened, and that look of courage and of command the people of
Corellia knew so well was marked upon his countenance. A rock might
have been moved, but not Fra Pacifico.
"Enrica shall obey me!" cried the marchesa. Her temper was rising
beyond control at the idea of any opposition at such a critical
moment. She had made her plan, settled it with Trenta; her plan must
be carried out. "Enrica shall obey me," she repeated. "Enrica will
obey me unless instigated by you, Fra Pacifico."
"My daughter," replied the priest, "if you forget the respect due to
my office, I shall leave you."
"Pardon me, my father," and the marchesa bowed stiffly; "but I appeal
to your justice. Can I allow that reprobate to break my niece's
heart?--to tarnish her good name? If there were a single Guinigi left,
he would stab Nobili like a dog! Such a fellow is unworthy the name
of gentleman. Marriage alone can remove the stain he has cast upon
Enrica. It is no question of sentiment. The marriage is essential
to the honor of my house. Enrica must be _called_ Countess Nobili,
whether Nobili pleases it or not. Else how can I keep his money? And
without his money--" She paused suddenly. In the warmth of speech the
marchesa had been actually led into the confession that Nobili was
necessary to her "I have the contract," she added. "Thank Heaven, I
have the contract! Nobili is legally bound by the contract."
"Yes, that may be," answered Fra Pacifico, reflectively, "if you
choose to force him. But I warn you that I will put no violence on
Enrica's feelings. She must decide for herself."
"But if Enrica still loves him," urged the marchesa, determined if
possible to avoid an appeal to her niece--"if Enrica still loves him,
as you assure me she does, may we not look upon her acquiescence as
obtained?"
Fra Pacifico shook his head. He was perfectly unmoved by the
marchesa's violence.
"Life, honor, position, reputation, all rest on this marriage. I have
accepted Count Nobili's money; Count Nobili must accept my niece."
"Your niece must nevertheless consent. I can permit no other
arrangement. Then you have to find Count Nobili. He must voluntarily
appear at the altar."
Fra Pacifico turned his resolute face full upon the marchesa. Her
whole attitude betrayed intense excitement.
"Your niece must consent, Count Nobili must appear voluntarily before
the altar, else the Church cannot sanction the union. It would be
sacrilege. How do you propose to overcome Count Nobili's refusal?"
"By the law!" exclaimed the marchesa, imperiously.
Fra Pacifico turned aside his head to conceal a smile. The law had not
hitherto favored the marchesa. Her constant appeal to the law had been
the principal cause of her present troubles.
"By the law," the marchesa repeated. Her sallow face glowed for a
moment. "Surely, Fra Pacifico--surely you will not oppose me? You
talk of the Church. The Church, indeed! Did not the wretch sign the
marriage-contract in your presence? The Church must enable him to
complete his contract. In your presence too, as priest and civil
delegate; and you talk of sacrilege, my father! Che! che! Dio buono!"
she exclaimed, losing all self-control in the conviction her own
argument brought to her--"Fra Pacifico, you must be mad!"
"I only ask for Enrica's consent," answered the priest. "That given,
if Count Nobili comes, I will consent to marry them."
"Count Nobili--he shall come--never fear," and the marchesa gave a
short, scornful laugh. "After I have been to Lucca he will come. I
shall have done my duty. It is all very well," added the marchesa,
loftily, "for low people to pair like animals, from inclination. Such
vulgar motives have no place in the world in which I live. Persons
of my rank form alliances among themselves from more elevated
considerations; from political and prudential motives; for the sake
of great wealth when wealth is required; to shed fresh lustre on
an historic name by adding to it the splendor of another equally
illustrious. My own marriage was arranged for this end. Again I remind
you, my father, that nothing but necessity would have forced me to
permit a usurer's son to dare to aspire to the hand of my niece. It is
a horrible degradation--the first blot on a spotless escutcheon."
"Again I warn you, my daughter, such pride is unseemly. Summon Enrica
at once. Let us hear what she says."
The marchesa drew back into the shadow, and was silent. As long as she
could bring her battery of arguments against Fra Pacifico, she felt
safe. What Enrica might say, who could tell? One word from Enrica
might overturn all her subtle combinations. That Fra Pacifico should
assist her was indispensable. Another priest, less interested in
Enrica, might, under the circumstances, refuse to unite them. Even if
that difficulty could be got over, the marchesa was fully alive to the
fact that a painful scene would probably occur--such a scene as ought
not to be witnessed by a stranger. Hence her hesitation in calling
Enrica.
During this pause Fra Pacifico crossed his arms upon his breast and
waited in silence.
"Let Enrica come," said the marchesa at last; "I have no objection."
She threw herself back on her seat, and doggedly awaited the result.
Fra Pacifico rose and opened a door on the other side of the room,
communicating with the vaulted passage which had connected the villa
with the tower.
"Who is there?" he called. (Bells were a luxury unknown at Corellia.)
"I," answered Angelo, running forward, his eyes gleaming like two
stars. Angelo sometimes acted as acolyte to Fra Pacifico. Angelo was
proud to show his alacrity to his reverence, who had often cuffed
him for his mischievous pranks; specially on one occasion, when Fra
Pacifico had found him in the act of pushing Gigi stealthily into the
marble basin of the fountain, to see if, being small, Gigi would swim
like the gold-fish.
"Go to the Signorina Enrica, Angelo, and tell her that the marchesa
wants her."
As long as Enrica was ill, Fra Pacifico went freely in and out of her
room; now that she was recovered, and had risen from her bed, it was
not suitable for him to seek her there himself.