THE LAWYER BAFFLED.
At that moment Fra Pacifico's tall figure barred the doorway. He
seemed to have risen suddenly out of the darkness. Nobili started back
and changed color. Of all living men, he most dreaded the priest at
that particular moment. The priest was now before him, stern, grave,
authoritative; searching him with those earnest eyes--the priest--a
living protest against all he had done, against all he was about to
do!
The agile lawyer darted forward. He was about to speak. Fra Pacifico
waved him into silence.
"Maestro Guglielmi," he said, with that sonorous voice which lent
importance to his slightest utterances, "I am glad to find you here.
You represent the marchesa.--My son," he continued, addressing Count
Nobili (as he did so, his face darkened into a look of mingled pain
and displeasure), "I come from your wife."
At that word Fra Pacifico paused. Count Nobili reddened. His eyes fell
upon the floor; he dared not meet the reproving glance he felt was
upon him.
"My son, I come from your wife," repeated Fra Pacifico.
There was a dead silence.
"You saw your wife borne from the altar fainting. She was mercifully
spared, therefore, hearing from your own lips that you repudiated her.
She has since been informed by Cavaliere Trenta that you did so. I am
here as her messenger. Your wife accepts the separation you desire."
As each sentence fell from the priest's lips his countenance grew
sterner.
"Accepts the separation! Gives me up!" exclaimed Nobili, quite taken
aback. "So much the better. We are both of the same mind."
But, spite his words, there were irritation and surprise in Nobili's
manner. That Enrica herself should have consented to part from him was
altogether an astonishment!
"If Countess Nobili accepts the separation"--and he turned sharply
upon Guglielmi--"nothing need detain you here, Signore Avvocato. You
hear what Fra Pacifico says. You have only, therefore, to inform the
Marchesa Guinigi. Probably her niece has already done so. We know that
they act in concert." Count Nobili laughed bitterly.
"The marchesa is not even aware that I am here," interposed Fra
Pacifico. "Enrica is now married--she acts for herself. Her first act,
Count Nobili, is one of obedience--she sacrifices herself to you."
Again the priest's deep-set eyes turned reprovingly upon Count Nobili.
Dare the headstrong boy affect to misunderstand that he had driven
Enrica to renounce him? Guglielmi remained standing near the
door--self-possessed, indeed, as usual, but utterly crestfallen. His
very soul sank within him as he listened to Fra Pacifico. Every thing
was going wrong, the judgeship in imminent peril, and this devil of a
priest, who ought to know better, doing every thing to divide them!
"Signore Guglielmi," said Nobili, with a significant glance at the
open door, "allow me to repeat--we need not detain you. We shall now
act for ourselves. Without reference to the difficulties you have
raised--"
"The difficulties I have raised have been for your own good, Count
Nobili," was Guglielmi's indignant reply. "Had I been supported
by"--and he glanced at Fra Pacifico--"by those whose duty teaches
them obedience to the ordinances of the Church, you would have saved
yourself and others the spectacle of a matrimonial scandal that will
degrade you before the eyes of all Italy."
Count Nobili was rushing forward, with some undefined purpose of
chastising Guglielmi, when Fra Pacifico interposed. A quiet smile
parted his well-formed mouth; he shrugged his shoulders as he eyed the
enraged lawyer.
"Allow me to judge of my duty as a priest. Look to your own as a
lawyer, or it may be the worse for you. What says the motto?--'Those
who seek gold may find sand.'"
Guglielmi, greatly alarmed at what Fra Pacifico might reveal of their
previous conversation, waited to hear no more; he hastily disappeared.
Fra Pacifico watched the manner of his exit with silence, the quiet
smile of conscious power still on his lips. When he turned and
addressed Count Nobili, the smile had died out.
Before Fra Pacifico can speak, the whole pack of dogs, attracted by
the loud voices, gather round the steps before the open window. They
are barking furiously. The smooth-skinned, treacherous bull-dog is
silent, but he stands foremost. True to his breed, the bull-dog is
silent. He creeps in noiselessly--his teeth gleam within an inch of
Nobili. Fra Pacifico spies him. With a furious kick he flings him out
far over the heads of the others. The bull-dog's howl of anguish rouses
the rest to frenzy. A moment more, and Fra Pacifico and Count Nobili
would have been attacked within the very room, but again footsteps are
heard passing in the shadow. A shot is fired close at hand. The dogs
rush off, the bull-dog whining and limping in the rear.
Count Nobili and Fra Pacifico exchange glances. There is a knock at
the door. Pipa enters carrying a lighted lamp which she places on the
table. Pipa does not even salute Fra Pacifico, but fixes her eyes,
swollen with crying, upon Count Nobili.
"What is the matter?" asks the priest.
"Riverenza, I do not know. Adamo and Angelo are out watching."
"But, Pipa, it is very strange. A shot was fired. The dogs, too, are
wilder than ever."
"Riverenza, I know nothing. Perhaps there are some deserters about.
We are used to the dogs. I never hear them. I am come from the
signorina."
At that name Count Nobili looks up and meets Pipa's gaze. If Pipa
could have stabbed him then and there with the silver dagger in her
black hair she would have done it, and counted it a righteous act. But
she must deliver her message.
"Signore Conte"--Pipa flings her words at Nobili as if each word
were a stone, with which she would have hit him--"Signore Conte, the
marchesa has sent me. The marchesa bids me salute you. She desired
me to bring in this light. I was to say supper is served in the great
sala. She eats in her own room with the cavaliere, and hopes you will
excuse her."
Before the count could answer, Pipa was gone.
"My son," said Fra Pacifico, standing beside him in the dimly-lighted
room, "you have now had time to reflect. Do you accept the separation
offered to you by your wife?"
"I do, my father."
"Then she will enter a convent." Nobili sighed heavily. "You have
broken her heart."
There was a depth of unexpressed reproach in the priest's look. Tears
gathered in his eyes, his deep voice shook.
"But why if she ever loved me"--whispered Nobili into Fra Pacifico's
ear as though he shrank from letting the very walls hear what he was
about to say--
"If she loved you!" burst out Fra Pacifico with rising passion--"if
she loved you! You have my word that she loved you--nay, God help her,
that she loves you still!"
Fra Pacifico drew back from Nobili as he said this. Again Nobili
approached him, speaking into his ear.
"Why, then, if she loved me, could she join with the marchesa against
me? Was I not induced by my love for her to pay her aunt's debts?
Answer me that, my father. Why did she insist upon this ill-omened
marriage?--a proceeding as indelicate as it is--"
"Silence!" thundered Fra Pacifico--"silence, I command you! What you
say of that pure and lovely girl whose soul is as crystal before me,
is absolute sacrilege. I will not listen to it!"
Fra Pacifico's eyes flashed fire. He looked as if he would strike
Count Nobili where he stood. He checked himself, however; then he
continued with more calmness: "To become your wife was needful for the
honor of Enrica's name, which you had slandered. The child put herself
in my hands. I am responsible for this marriage--I only. As to the
marchesa, do you think she consults Enrica? The hawk and the dove
share not the same nest! No, no. Did the marchesa so much as tell
Enrica, when she offered her as wife to Count Marescotti?"
At the sound of Marescotti's name Nobili's assumed composure utterly
gave way. His whole frame stiffened with rage.
"Yes--Marescotti--curse him! And I am the husband of the woman he
refused!"
"For shame, Count Nobili!--you have yourself exonerated her."
"Enrica must have been an accomplice!" cried Nobili, transported
out of himself. Count Marescotti's name had exasperated him beyond
control.
"Fool!" exclaimed Fra Pacifico. "Will you not listen to reason? Has
not Enrica by her own act renounced all claim to you as a wife? Is not
that enough?"
Nobili was silent. Hitherto he had been driven on, goaded by the
promptings of passion, and the firm belief that Enrica was the mere
tool of her aunt. Now the same facts detailed by the priest placed
themselves in a new light. For the first time Nobili doubted whether
he was entirely justified in all that he had done--in all that he was
about to do.
Meanwhile Fra Pacifico was losing all patience. His manly nature
rose within him at what he considered Nobili's deliberate cruelty.
Inflexible in right, Fra Pacifico was violent in face of wrong.
"Why did you not let her die?" he exclaimed, bitterly. "It would
have saved her a world of suffering. I thought I knew you, Mario
Nobili--knew you from a boy," he added, contemplating him with a dark
scowl. "You have deceived me. Every word you utter only sinks you
lower in my esteem."
"It would indeed have been better had we both perished in the flames!"
cried Nobili in a voice full of anguish--"perished--locked in each
other's arms! Poor Enrica!" He turned away, and a low sob burst from
his heart of hearts. "The marchesa has destroyed my love!--She has
blighted my life!" Nobili's voice sounded hollow in the dimly-lighted
room. At last Nobili was speaking out--speaking, as it were, from the
grave of his love! "Yes, I loved her," he continued dreamily--"I loved
her! How much I did not know!"
He had forgotten he was not alone. The priest was but dimly visible.
He was leaning against the wall, his massive chin resting on his hand,
listening to Nobili. Now, hearing what he said, Fra Pacifico's anger
had vanished. After all, he had not been mistaken in his old pupil!
Nobili was neither cruel nor heartless; but he had been driven to bay!
Now he pitied him, profoundly. What could he say to him? He could urge
Nobili no more. He must work out his own fate!
Again Nobili spoke.
"When I saw her sweet face turned toward me as she entered the chapel,
I dared not look again! It was too late. My pride as a man, all that
is sacred to me as a gentleman, has been too deeply wounded. The
marchesa has done it. She alone is responsible. _She_ has left me
no alternative. I will never accept a wife forced upon me by
_her_--never, by Heaven! My father, these are my last words. Carry
them to Enrica."
Count Nobili's head dropped upon his breast. He covered his face with
his hands.
"My son, I leave you in the hands of God. May He lead you and comfort
you! But remember, the life of your wife is bound up in _your_ life.
Hitherto Enrica has lived upon hope. Deprived of hope, _she will
die_."
When Nobili looked up, Fra Pacifico was gone.