THE CHURCH AND THE LAW.
Ten days after the departure of the marchesa, Fra Pacifico received
the following letter:
REVEREND AND ESTEEMED FATHER: I have put the matter of Enrica's
marriage into the hands of the well-known advocate, Maestro Guglielmi,
of Lucca. He at once left for Rome. By extraordinary diligence he
procured a summons for Count Nobili to appear within fifteen
days before the tribunal, to answer in person for his breach of
marriage-contract--unless, before the expiration of that time, he
should make the contract good by marriage. The citation was left with
the secretary at Count Nobili's own house. Maestro Guglielmi also
informed the secretary, by my order, that, in default of his--Count
Nobili's--appearance, a detailed account of the whole transaction with
my niece, and of other transactions touching Count Nobili's father,
known to me--of which I have informed Maestro Guglielmi--would be
published--upon my authority--in every newspaper in all the cities
throughout Italy, with such explanations and particulars as I might
see fit to insert. Also that the name of Count Nobili, as a slanderer
and a perjurer, should be placarded on all the spare walls of
Lucca, at Florence, and throughout Tuscany. The secretary denies any
knowledge of his master's present address. He declared that he was
unable, therefore, to communicate with him.
In the mean time a knowledge of the facts has spread through this
city. The public voice is with us to a man. Once more the citizens
have rallied round the great Guinigi name. Crowds assemble daily
before Count Nobili's palace. His name is loudly execrated by the
citizens. Stones have been thrown, and windows broken; indeed,
there are threats of burning the palace. The authorities have not
interfered. Count Nobili has now, I hear, returned privately to Lucca.
He dares not show himself, or he would be stabbed; but Count Nobili's
lawyer has had a conference with Maestro Guglielmi. Cavaliere Trenta
insisted upon being present. This was against my will. Cavaliere
Trenta always says too much. Maestro Guglielmi gave Count Nobili's
lawyer three days to decide. At the expiration of that time Signore
Guglielmi met him again. Count Nobili's lawyer declared that with the
utmost difficulty he had prevailed upon his client to make good
the contract by the religious ceremony of marriage. Let every thing
therefore be ready for the ceremony. This letter is private. You will
say nothing further to my niece than that Count Nobili will arrive
at Corellia at two o'clock the day after to-morrow to marry her.
Farewell.
Your friend and well-wisher,
"MARCHESA GUINIGI."
The morning of the third day rose gray and chill at Corellia. Much
rain had fallen during the night, and a damp mist streamed up from the
valleys, shutting out the mighty range of mountains. In the plains of
Pisa and Florence the October sun still blazed glorious as ever on the
lush grass and flowery meadows--on the sluggish streams and the rich
blossoms. There, the trees still rustled in green luxuriance, to
soft breezes perfumed with orange-trees and roses. But in the
mountain-fastnesses of the Apennines autumn had come on apace. Such
faded leaves as clung to the shrubs about the villa were drooping
under the weight of the rain-drops, and a few autumnal flowers that
still lit up the broad borders lay prostrate on the earth. Each tiny
stream and brawling water-course--even mere little humble rills
that dried up in summer--now rushed downward over rocks and stones
blackened with moss, to pour themselves into the river Serchio. In the
forest the turf was carpeted with yellow leaves, carried hither and
thither by the winds. The stems and branches of the chestnuts ranged
themselves, tier above tier, like silver pillars, against the red
sandstone of the rocks. The year was dying out, and with the year all
Nature was dying out likewise.
Within the villa a table was spread in the great sala, with wine and
such simple refreshments as the brief notice allowed. As the morning
advanced, clouds gathered more thickly over the heavens. The gloomy
daylight coming in at the doors, and through the many windows, caught
up no ray within. The vaguely-sailing ships painted upon the wall,
destined never to find a port in those unknown seas for which their
sails were set--and that exasperating company opposite, that
through all changes of weal or woe danced remorselessly under the
greenwood--were shrouded in misty shadows.
Not a sound broke the silence--nothing save the striking of the clock
at Corellia, bringing with it visions of the dark old church--the
kneeling women--and the peace of God within. Even Argo and his
friends--Juno and Tuzzi, and the bull-dog--were mute.
About twelve o'clock the marchesa arrived from Lucca. In her company
came the Cavaliere Trenta and Maestro Guglielmi. Fra Pacifico was in
waiting. He received them with grave courtesy. Adamo, arrayed by Pipa
in his Sunday clothes, with a flower behind his ear, and Silvestro,
stood uncovered at the entrance. Once, and once only, Silvestro
abstained from addressing his mistress with his usual question about
her health.
Maestro Guglielmi was formally presented to Fra Pacifico by the
punctilious cavaliere, now restored to his usual health and spirits.
The cavaliere had arrayed himself in his official uniform--dark-purple
velvet embroidered with gold. Not having worn the uniform, however,
for more than twenty years, the coat was much too small for him. In
his hand he carried a white staff of office. This served him as a
stick. Coming up from Lucca, the cavaliere had reflected that on him
solely must rest the care of imparting some show of dignity to the
ceremony about to take place. He resolved that he would be equal to
the occasion, whatever might occur.
There was a strange hush upon each one of the little group met in the
sala. Each was busy with his own thoughts. The marriage about to take
place was to the marchesa the resurrection of the Guinigi name. To
Fra Pacifico it was the possible rescue of Enrica from a life of
suffering, perhaps an early death. To Guglielmi it was the triumph of
the keen lawyer, who had tracked and pursued his prey until that prey
had yielded. To the cavaliere it was simply an act of justice which
Count Nobili owed to Enrica, after the explanations he (Trenta) had
given to him through his lawyer, respecting Count Marescotti--such an
act of justice as the paternal government of his master the Duke
of Lucca would have forced, upon the strength of his absolute
prerogative, irrespective of law. The only person not outwardly
affected was the marchesa. The marchesa had said nothing since her
arrival, but there was a haughty alacrity of step and movement, as she
walked down the sala toward the door of her own apartment, that spoke
more than words.
No sooner had the sound of her closing door died away in the echoes of
the sala than Trenta, with forward bows both to Fra Pacifico and the
lawyer, requested permission to leave them, in order to visit Enrica.
Guglielmi and Fra Pacifico were now alone. Guglielmi gave a cautious
glance round, then walked up to the table, and poured out a tumbler
of wine, which he swallowed slowly. As he did so, he was engaged in
closely scrutinizing Fra Pacifico, who, full of anxiety as to what was
about to happen, stood lost in thought.
Maestro Guglielmi, whose age might be about forty, was a man, once
seen, not easily forgotten--a tall, slight man of quick subtile
movements, that betrayed the devouring activity within. Maestro
Guglielmi had a perfectly colorless face, a prominent, eager nose,
thin lips, that perpetually unclosed to a ghostly smile in which the
other features took no part; a brow already knitted with those fine
wrinkles indicative of constant study, and overhanging eyebrows that
framed a pair of eyes that read you like a book. It would have been a
bold man who, with those eyes fixed on him, would have told a lie to
Maestro Guglielmi, advocate in the High Court of Lucca. If any man had
so lied, those eyes would have gathered up the light, and flashed it
forth again in lightnings that might consume him. That they were dark
and flaming, and greatly dreaded by all on whom Guglielmi fixed them
in opposition, was generally admitted by his legal compeers.
"Reverend sir," began Maestro Guglielmi, blandly, stepping up to where
the priest stood a little apart, and speaking in a metallic voice
audible in any court of law, be it ever so closely packed--"it
gratifies me much that chance has so ordered it that we two are left
alone." Guglielmi took out his watch. "We have a good half-hour to
spare."
Fra Pacifico turned, and for the first time contemplated the lawyer
attentively. As he did so, he noted with surprise the power of his
eyes.
"I earnestly desire some conversation with you," continued Guglielmi,
the semblance of a smile flitting over his hard face. "Can we speak
here securely?" And the lawyer glanced round at the various doors, and
particularly to an open one, which led from the sala to the chapel,
at the farther end of the house. Fra Pacifico moved forward and closed
it.
"You are quite safe--say what you please," he answered, bluntly. His
frank nature rose involuntarily against the cunning of Guglielmi's
look and manner. "We have no spies here."
"Pardon me, I did not mean to insinuate that. But what I have to say
is strictly private."
Fra Pacifico eyed Guglielmi with no friendly expression.
"I know you well by repute, reverend sir"--with one comprehensive
glance Guglielmi seemed to take in Fra Pacifico mentally and
physically--"therefore it is that I address myself to you."
The priest crossed his arms and bowed.
"The marchesa has confided to me the charge of this most delicate
case. Hitherto I have conducted it with success. It is not my habit
to fail. I have succeeded in convincing Count Nobili's lawyer, and
through him Count Nobili himself, that it would be suicidal to his
interests should he not make good the marriage-contract with the
Marchesa Guinigi's niece. If Count Nobili refuses, he must leave
the country. He has established himself in Lucca, and desires, as I
understand, to remain there. My noble client has done me the honor
to inform me that she is acquainted with, and can prove, some act of
villainy committed by his father, who, though he ended his life as
an eminent banker at Florence, began it as a money-lender at Leghorn.
Count Nobili's father filled in a blank check which a client had
incautiously left in his hands, to an enormous amount, or something of
that kind, I believe. I refused to notice this circumstance legally,
feeling sure that we were strong enough without it. I was also sure
that giving publicity to such a fact would only prejudice the position
of the future husband of the marchesa's niece. To return. Fortunately,
Count Nobili's lawyer saw the case as I put it to him. Count-Nobili
will, undoubtedly, be here at two o'clock." Again the lawyer took out
his watch, looked at it, and replaced it with rapidity. "A good deal
of hard work is comprised in that sentence, 'Count Nobili will be
here!'" Again there was the ghost of a smile. "Lawyers must not
always be judged by the result. In this case, however, the result is
favorable, eminently favorable."
Fra Pacifico's face deepened into a look of disgust, but he said
nothing.
"Count Nobili once here and joined to the young lady by the Church,
_we must keep him_. The spouses must pass twenty-four hours under the
same roof to complete and legalize the marriage. I am here officially,
to see that Count Nobili attends at the time appointed for the
ceremony. In reality, I am here to see that Count Nobili remains. This
must be no formal union. They must be bound together irrevocably. You
must help me, reverend sir."
Maestro Guglielmi turned quickly upon Fra Pacifico. His eyes ran all
over him. The priest drew back.
"I have already stretched my conscience to the utmost for the sake of
the lady. I can do nothing more."
"But, my father, it is surely to the lady's advantage that, if the
count marries her, they should live together, that heirs should be
born to them," pleaded Guglielmi in a most persuasive voice. "If the
count separates from his wife after the ceremony, how can this be?
We do not live in the days of miracles, though we have an infallible
pope. Eh, my father? Not in the days of miracles." Guglielmi gave an
ironical laugh, and his eyes twinkled. "Besides, there is the civil
ceremony."
"The Sindaco of Corellia can be present, if you please, for the civil
marriage."
"Unfortunately, there is no time to call the sindaco now," replied
Guglielmi. "If Count Nobili remains the night in company with his
bride, we shall have no difficulty about the civil marriage to-morrow.
Count Nobili will not object then. Not likely."
The lawyer gave a harsh, cynical laugh that grated offensively upon
the priest's ear. Fra Pacifico began to think Maestro Guglielmi
intolerable.
"That is your affair. I will undertake no further responsibility,"
responded Fra Pacifico, doggedly.
"You cannot mean, my father, that you will not help me?" And Guglielmi
contemplated Fra Pacifico fixedly with all the lightnings he could
bring to bear upon him. To his amazement, he produced no effect
whatever. Fra Pacifico remained silent. Altogether this was a priest
different from any he had ever met with--Guglielmi hated priests--he
began to be interested in Fra Pacifico.
"Well, well," was Guglielmi's reply, with an aspect of intense
chagrin, "I had better hopes. Your position, Fra Pacifico, as a
peace-maker--as a friend of the family--however"--here the lawyer
shrugged his shoulders, and his eyes wandered restlessly up and down
the room--"however, at least permit me to tell you what I intend to
do."
Fra Pacifico bowed coldly.
"As you please," was his reply.
Maestro Guglielmi advanced close to Fra Pacifico, and lowered his
voice almost to a whisper.
"The circumstances attending this marriage are becoming very public.
My client, the Marchesa Guinigi, considers her position so exalted she
dares to court publicity. She forgets we are not in the middle ages.
Ha! ha!" and Guglielmi showed his teeth in a smile that was nothing
but a grin--"publicity will be fatal to the young lady. This the
marchesa fails to see; but I see it, and you see it, my father."
Fra Pacifico shook himself all over as though silently rejecting any
possible participation in Maestro Guglielmi's arguments. Guglielmi
quite understood the gesture, but continued, perfectly at his ease:
"The high rank of the young lady--the wealth of the count--a
marriage-contract broken--an illustrious name libeled--Count Nobili,
a well-known member of the Jockey Club, in concealment--the Lucchese
populace roused to fury--all these details have reached the capital.
A certain royal personage"--here Guglielmi drew himself up pompously,
and waved his hand, as was his wont in the fervor of a grand
peroration--"a certain royal personage, who has reasons of his own
for avoiding unnecessary scandal (possibly because the royal personage
causes so much himself, and considers scandal his own prerogative)
"--Guglielmi emphasized his joke with such scintillation as would
metaphorically have taken any other man than Fra Pacifico off his
legs--even Fra Pacifico stared at him with astonishment--"a certain
royal personage, I say--earnestly desires that this affair should
be amicably arranged--that the republican party should not have the
gratification of gloating over a sensational trial between two noble
families (the republicans would make terrible capital out of
it)--a certain personage desires, I say, that the affair should be
arranged--amicably arranged--not only by a formal marriage--the
formal marriage, of course, we positively insist on--but by a complete
reconciliation between the parties. If this should not be so, the
present ceremony will infallibly lead to a lawsuit respecting the
civil marriage--the domicile--and the cohabitation--which it is
distinctly understood that Count Nobili will refuse, and that
the Marchesa Guinigi, acting for her niece, will maintain. It is
essential, therefore, that more than the formal ceremony shall take
place. It is essential that the subsequent cohabitation--"
"I see your drift," interrupted downright Fra Pacifico, in his blunt
way; "no need to go into further details."
Spite of himself, Fra Pacifico had become interested in the narrative.
The cunning lawyer intended that Fra Pacifico should become so
interested. What was the strong-fisted, simple-hearted priest beside
such a sophist as Maestro Guglielmi!
"The royal personage in question," continued Guglielmi, who read in
Fra Pacifico's frank countenance that he had conquered his repugnance,
"has done me the high honor of communicating to me his august
sentiments. I have pledged myself to do all I can to prevent the
catastrophe of law. My official capacity, however, ends with Count
Nobili's presence here at the appointed hour."
At the word "hour" Guglielmi hastily pulled out his watch.
"Only a few minutes more," he muttered. "But this is not all. Listen,
my father."
He gave a hasty glance round, then put his lips close to the priest's
ear.
"If I succeed--may I say _we_?" he added, insinuatingly--"if _we_
succeed, a canonry will be offered to you, Fra Pacifico; and I"
(Guglielmi's speaking eyes became brilliantly emphatic now)--"I shall
be appointed judge of the tribunal at Lucca."
"Pshaw!" cried Fra Pacifico, retreating from him with an expression
of blank disappointment. "I a canon at Lucca! If that is to be
the consequence of success, you must depend on yourself, Signore
Guglielmi. I decline to help you. I would not be a canon at Lucca if
the King of Italy asked me in person."
Guglielmi, whose tactics were, if he failed, never to show it, smiled
his falsest smile.
"Noble disinterestedness!" he exclaimed, drawing his delicate hand
across his brow. "Nothing could have raised your reverence higher in
my esteem than this refusal!"
To conceal his real annoyance, Maestro Guglielmi turned away and
coughed. It was a diplomatic cough, ready on all emergencies. Again he
consulted his watch.
"Five minutes more, then we must assemble at the altar. A fine will be
levied upon Count Nobili, if he is not punctual."
"If it is so near the time, I must beg you to excuse me," said Fra
Pacifico, glad to escape.
Fra Pacifico, walked rapidly toward the door opening into the corridor
leading to the chapel. His retreating figure was followed by
a succession of fireworks from Guglielmi's eyes, indicative of
indignation and contempt.
"He who sleeps catches no fish," the lawyer muttered to himself,
biting his lips. "But the priest will help me--spite of himself, he
will help me. A health to Holy Mother Church! She would not do much if
all her ministers were like this country clod. He is without ambition.
He has quite fatigued me."
Saying this, Maestro Guglielmi poured out another glass of wine. He
critically examined the wine in the light before putting it to his
lips; then he swallowed it with an expression of approbation.