The town of Val di Orno was now in military possession, and there was no
longer any fear of a revisit from the bandits.
The soldiers, in all about a hundred, were distributed by billet into
the best houses while the officers took possession of the inn.
The captain, however, not contented with such shelter as the humble
hostelry afforded contrived to insinuate himself into more comfortable
quarters, in the house of the chief magistrate of the town, who, as
already known, was the _sindico_ himself.
It was a hospitality somewhat reluctantly offered; and, under other
circumstances, the offer might not have been made. But the times were
troublous, the brigands were "abroad," and people could not well act
with churlishness towards their professed protectors.
Besides, Francesco Torreani, on his own account, had need to show
courtesy, or pretend it, to the soldiers of the Pope. It was suspected
that he sympathised with that party of liberal views, fast growing in
influence, and who, under the inspiration of Mazzini, was threatening an
Italian republic.
Compromised by this suspicion, the _sindico_ of Val di Orno required to
act with circumspection in the presence of the Pope's officer.
The proposal for quarters in his house had come from the latter. It was
made deferentially, and under some trifling excuse, but in a way to make
refusal a delicate and difficult matter. The _sindico_ was constrained
to give consent; and the officer brought his luggage, along with his
body servant, from the inn, leaving more room for his subalterns.
The _sindico_ thought it strange, but said nothing. The explanation he
gave to himself was not very consolatory. "To act as a spy upon me, I
suppose. No doubt he has his orders from Antonelli."
Though plausible to him who made it, the conjecture was not true.
Captain Count Guardioli had received no orders of the kind; though,
likely enough, he had given the Vatican some hints of the political
proclivities of the _sindico_ of Val di Orno.
His desire to share the hospitality of the magistrate's mansion was a
thought that came, after his entering the house on that first merely
official visit. The cause was simple enough. He had caught sight of
the _sindico's_ fair daughter as she was crossing one of the corridors,
and Captain Count Guardioli was not the man to close his eyes against
such attractions as Lucetta possessed.
Poor girl! To be assailed on every side--on one by a _capo_ of bandits,
on the other a captain of Papal soldiers. In truth, was she in danger?
Fortunately for her peace of mind, she knew nothing of the designs of
Corvino; though she was not long in discovering the inclinations of
Captain Count Guardioli.
His countship was one of those men who believe themselves irresistible--
a true Italian lady-killer, with a semi-piratical aspect, eyes filled
with intellectual fire, teeth of snowy whiteness, and coal-black
moustaches, turning spirally along his cheeks. A maiden must have her
mind powerfully preoccupied who could withstand his amorous assaults.
So was he accustomed to declare in the ears of his military associates--
boasting his irresistibility.
No doubt, in the corrupt circles of the Apostolic city, he had had his
successes. Count, captain, and cavalier, above all, an ardent pursuer
of love adventures, it could scarce be otherwise.
At first sight of Lucetta Torreani the Captain Count experienced a
sensation akin to ecstasy. It was like one who has discovered a
treasure, hitherto unseen by the eyes of man. What a triumph there
would be in revealing it! To obtain it could be no great difficulty. A
village damsel, a simple country girl, she would not be likely to resist
the fascinations of one who brought along with him the accomplishments
of the court, backed by the prestige of title and position.
So reasoned Captain Count Guardioli; and, from that moment, commenced to
lay siege to the heart of Lucetta Torreani. But, although from the city
of Caesars, he could not say, as the first Caesar had done, "_Veni--
vidi--vici_!" he came, and saw; but, after residing a week under the
same roof with the "simple village damsel," he was so far from having
subdued her heart, that he had not made the slightest impression upon
it; on the contrary, he had himself become enslaved by her charms. He
had grown so enamoured of the beautiful Lucetta, that his passion was
apparent to every one in the place, his own soldiers and subalterns
included.
Blinded by his ill-starred idolatry, he had abandoned even the dignity
of concealing it; and followed his _ignis fatuus_ about--constantly
forcing his company upon her in a manner that rendered him ridiculous.
All this the father saw with chagrin, but could not help it. He
consoled himself, however, with the reflection that Lucetta was safe, so
far as her heart was concerned. And yet every one did not believe this.
In the character of the _sindico's_ daughter there was nothing that
could be called coquetry. It was rather an amiability, that hesitated
about giving pain; and, influenced by this, she listened to the
solicitations and flatteries of the Captain Count almost as if she
relished them. It was only her father who thought otherwise. Perhaps
he might be mistaken.
As usual, the soldiers did but little service--none at all that was of
any avail towards clearing the country of the bandits. They made
occasional excursions to the neighbouring valleys, where the outlaws had
been heard of, but where they could never be found. In these
expeditions they were never accompanied by their _commandante_. He
could not tear himself away from the side of Lucetta Torreani, and the
field duty was left to his lieutenants. By night the soldiers strayed
about the town, got drunk in the liquor-shops, insulted the townsmen,
took liberties with their women, and made themselves so generally
disagreeable, that before a week had elapsed, the citizens of Val di
Orno would have gladly exchanged their military guests for Corvino and
his cut-throats.
About ten days after their entry into the place, there came a report,
which by the townspeople was received with secret satisfaction, not the
less from their having heard a whisper as to the cause. The soldiers
were to be recalled to Rome, to protect the Holy See from the approaches
of the Republic.
Even to that secluded spot had rumours reached, that a change was
coming, and there were men in Val di Orno--where it might be supposed
such an idea could scarce have penetrated--men ready to vociferate,
"_Eviva la Republica_!" Its _sindico_ would have been among the
foremost to have raised this regenerating cry.