TO BE, OR NOT TO BE?
When Angelo knocked at Enrica's door, Pipa, who was with her, opened
it, and gave her Fra Pacifico's message. The summons was so sudden
Enrica had no time to think, but a wild, unmeaning delight possessed
her. It was so rare for her aunt to send for her she must be going to
tell her something about Nobili. With his name upon her lips, Enrica
started up from the chair on which she had been half lying, and ran
toward the door.
"Softly, softly, my blessed angel!" cried Pipa, following her with
outstretched arms as if she were a baby taking its first steps. "You
were all but dead this morning, and now you run like little Gigi when
I call to him."
"I can walk very well, Pipa." Enrica opened the door with feverish
haste. "I must not keep my aunt waiting."
"Let me put a shawl round you," insisted kind Pipa. "The evening is
fresh."
She wrapped a large white shawl about her, that made Enrica look paler
and more ghost-like than before.
"Nobody loves me like you, Pipa--nobody--dear Pipa!"
Enrica threw her soft arms around Pipa as she said this. She felt so
lonely the tears came into her eyes, already swollen with excessive
weeping.
"Who knows?" was Pipa's grave reply. "It is a strange world. You must
not judge a man always by what he does."
Enrica gave a deep sigh. She had hurried out of her room into the sala
with a headlong impulse to rush to her aunt. Now she dreaded what her
aunt might have to say to her. The little strength she had suddenly
left her. The warm blood that had mounted to her head chilled within
her veins. For a few moments she leaned against Pipa, who watched her
with anxious eyes. Then, disengaging herself from her, she trod feebly
across the floor. The sala was in darkness. Enrica stretched out
her hands before her to feel for the door. When she had found it she
stopped terrified. What was she about to hear? The deep voice of Fra
Pacifico was audible from within. Enrica placed her hand upon the
handle of the door--then she withdrew it. Without the autumn wind
moaned round the corners of the house. How it must roar in the abyss
under the cliffs! Enrica thought. How dark it must be down there in
the blackness of the night! Like letters written in fire, Nobili's
words rose up before her--"I am gone from you forever!" Oh! why was
she not dead?--Why was she not lying deep below, buried among the cold
rocks?--Enrica felt very faint. A groan escaped her.
Fra Pacifico, accustomed to listen to the almost inaudible sounds of
the sick and the dying, heard it.
The door opened. Enrica found herself within the room.
"Enrica," said the marchesa, addressing her blandly (did not all now
depend upon her?)--"Enrica, you look very pale."
She made no reply, but looked round vacantly. The light of the lamp,
coming suddenly out of the darkness, the finding herself face to face
with the marchesa, dazzled and alarmed her.
Fra Pacifico took both Enrica's hands in his, drew an arm-chair
forward, and placed her in it.
"Enrica, I have sent for you to ask you a question," the marchesa
spoke.
At the sound of her aunt's voice, Enrica shuddered visibly. Was it
not, after all, the marchesa's fault that Nobili had left her? Why had
the marchesa thrown her into Count Marescotti's company? Why had the
marchesa offered her in marriage to Count Marescotti without telling
her? At this moment Enrica loathed her. Something of all this passed
over her pallid face as she turned her eyes beseechingly toward Fra
Pacifico. The marchesa watched her with secret rage.
Was this silly, love-sick child about to annihilate the labors of her
life? Was this daughter of her husband's cousin, Antonio--a collateral
branch--about to consign the Guinigi name to the tomb? She could have
lifted up her voice and cursed her where she stood.
"Enrica, I have sent for you to ask you a question." Spite of her
efforts to be calm, there was a strange ring in her voice that made
Enrica look up at her. "Enrica, do you still love Count Nobili?"
"This is not a fair question," interrupted Fra Pacifico, coming to
the rescue of the distressed Enrica, who sat speechless before her
terrible aunt. "I know she still loves him. The love of a heart like
hers is not to be destroyed by such a letter as that, and the unjust
accusations it contains."
Fra Pacifico pointed with his finger to Nobili's letter lying where he
had placed it on the table. Seeing the letter, Enrica started back and
shivered.
"Is it not so, Enrica?"
The little blond head and the sad blue eyes bowed themselves gently in
response. A faint smile flitted across Enrica's face. Fra Pacifico had
spoken all her mind, which she in her weakness could not have done,
especially with her aunt's dark eyes riveted upon her.
"Then you still love Count Nobili?" The marchesa accentuated each word
with bitter emphasis.
"I do," answered Enrica, faintly.
"If Count Nobili returns here, will you marry him?"
As the marchesa spoke, Enrica trembled like a leaf. "What was she
to answer?" The little composure she had been able to assume utterly
forsook her. She who had believed that nothing was left but to die,
was suddenly called upon to live!
"O my aunt," Enrica cried, springing to her feet, "how can I look
Nobili in the face after that letter? He thinks I have deceived him."
Enrica stopped; the words seemed to choke her. With an imploring look,
she turned toward Fra Pacifico. Without knowing what she did Enrica
flung herself on the floor at his feet; she clasped his knees--she
turned her beseeching eyes into his.
"O my father, help me! Nobili is my very life. How can I refuse what
is my very life? When Nobili left me, my first thought was to die!"
"Surely, my daughter, not by a violent death?" asked Fra Pacifico,
stooping over her.
"Yes, yes," and Enrica wrung her hands, "yes, I would have done it--I
could not bear to live without him."
A look of sorrow and reproach darkened Fra Pacifico's brow. He crossed
himself. "God be praised," he exclaimed, "you were saved from that
wickedness!"
"My father"--Enrica extended her arms toward him--"I implore you, for
the love of Jesus, let me enter a convent!"
In these few and simple words Enrica had tried all her powers of
persuasion. The words were addressed to the priest; but her blue eyes,
filled with tears, gathered themselves upon the marchesa imploringly.
Enrica awaited her fate in silence. The priest rose and gently
replaced her on her chair. All the benevolence of his manly nature
was called forth. He cast a searching glance at the marchesa. Nothing
betrayed her feelings.
"Calm yourself, Enrica," Fra Pacifico said, soothingly. "No one seeks
to hurry or to force you. But I could not for a moment sanction your
entering a convent. In your present state of mind it would be an
unholy and an unnatural act."
Although outwardly unmoved, never in her life had the marchesa felt
such exultation. Had Fra Pacifico seconded Enrica's proposal to enter
a convent, all would have been lost! Still nothing was absolutely
decided. It was possible Fra Pacifico might yet frustrate her plans.
She ventured another question.
"If Count Nobili meets you at the altar, you will not then refuse to
marry him?"
There was an imperceptible tremor in the marchesa's voice. The
suspense was becoming intolerable to her.
"Refuse to marry him? Refuse Nobili? No, no, I can refuse Nobili
nothing," answered Enrica, dreamily. "But he will not come!--he is
gone forever!"
"He will come," insisted the marchesa, pushing her advantage
skillfully.
"But will he love me?" asked the tender young voice. "Will he believe
that I love him? Oh, tell me that!--Father Pacifico, help me! I cannot
think." Enrica pressed her hands to her forehead. She had suffered so
much, now that the crisis had come she was stunned, she had no power
to decide. "Dare I marry him?--Ought we to part forever?" A flush
gathered on her cheek, an ineffable longing shone from her eyes.
More than life was in the balance--not only to Enrica, but to
the marchesa--the marchesa, who, wrapped within the veil of her
impenetrable reserve, breathlessly awaited, an answer.
Fra Pacifico showed unmistakable signs of agitation. He rose from his
chair, and for some minutes strode rapidly up and down the room, the
floor creaking under his heavy tread. The life of this fragile girl
lay in his hands. How could he resist that pleading look? Enrica had
done nothing wrong. Was Enrica to suffer--die, perhaps--because Nobili
had wrongfully accused her? Fra Pacifico passed his large, muscular
hand thoughtfully over his clean-shaven chin, then stopped to gaze
upon her. Her lips were parted, her eyes dilated to their utmost
limit.
"My child," he said at last, laying his hand upon her head with
fatherly tenderness--"my child, if Count Nobili returns here, you will
be justified in marrying him."
Enrica sank back and closed her eyes. A great leap of joy overwhelmed
her. She dared not question her happiness. To behold Nobili once
more--only to behold him--filled her with rapture.
"What is your answer, Enrica? I must hear your answer from yourself."
The marchesa spoke out of the darkness. She shrank from allowing Fra
Pacifico to scrutinize the exultation marked on her every feature.
"My aunt, if Nobili comes here to claim me, I will marry him,"
answered Enrica, more firmly. "But stop"--her eye had meanwhile
traveled to the letter still lying on the table--a horrible doubt
crossed her mind. "Will Nobili know that I am not what he says
there--in that letter?"
Enrica could bring herself to say no more. She longed to ask all that
had happened about Count Marescotti, and how her name had been mixed
up with his, but the words refused to come.
"Leave that to me," answered the marchesa, imperiously. "If Count
Nobili comes to marry you, is not that proof enough that he is
satisfied?"
Enrica felt that it must be so. A wild joy possessed her. This joy was
harder to bear than the pain. Enrica was actually sinking under the
hope that Nobili might return to her!
Fra Pacifico noticed the gray shadow that was creeping over her face.
"Enrica must go at once to her room," he said abruptly, "else I cannot
answer for the consequences. Her strength is overtaxed."
As he spoke, Fra Pacifico hastily opened the door leading into the
sala. He took Enrica by the hand and raised her. She was perfectly
passive. The marchesa rose also; for the first time she came into
the full light of the lamp. Enrica stooped and kissed her hand
mechanically.
"My niece, you may prepare for your approaching marriage. Count Nobili
will be here shortly--never fear."
The marchesa's manner was strange, almost menacing. Fra Pacifico led
Enrica across the sala to her own door. When he returned, the marchesa
was again reading Count Nobili's letter.
"A love-match in the Guinigi family!" She was laughing with derision.
"What are we coming to?"
She tore the letter into innumerable fragments.
"My father, I shall leave for Lucca early to-morrow. You must look
after Enrica. I am satisfied with what has passed."
"God send we have done right!" answered the priest, gloomily. "Now at
least she has a chance of life."
"Adieu, Fra Pacifico. When next we meet it will be at the marriage."
Fra Pacifico withdrew. Had he done his duty?--Fra Pacifico dared not
ask himself the question.