CHAPTER XLIV

THE WIFE AND THE HUSBAND

When they were alone Merthyr said: "I cannot give many minutes, not much

time. I have to speak to your husband."

She answered: "Give me many minutes--much time. All other speaking is

vain here."

"It concerns his safety."

"It will not save him."

"But I have evidence that he is betrayed. His plans are known; a trap is

set for him. If he moves, he walks into a pit."

"You would talk reason, Merthyr," Vittoria sighed. "Talk it to me. I can

listen; I thirst for it. I beat at the bars of a cage all day. When I saw

you this afternoon, I looked on another life. It was too sudden, and I

swooned. That was my only show of weakness. Since then you are the only

strength I feel."

"Have they all become Barto Rizzos?" Merthyr exclaimed.

"Beloved, I will open my mind to you," said Vittoria. "I am cowardly, and

I thought I had such courage! Tonight a poor mad creature has been here,

who has oppressed me, I cannot say how long, with real fear--that I only

understand now that I know the little ground I had for it. I am even

pleased that one like Barto Rizzo should see me in a better light. I find

the thought smiling in my heart when every other thing is utterly dark

there. You have heard that Carlo goes to Brescia. When I was married, I

lost sight of Italy, and everything but happiness. I suffer as I deserve

for it now. I could have turned my husband from this black path; I

preferred to dream and sing. I would not see--it was my pride that would

not let me see his error. My cowardice would not let me wound him with a

single suggestion. You say that he is betrayed. Then he is betrayed by

the woman who has never been unintelligible to me. We were in Turin

surrounded by intrigues, and there I thanked her so much for leaving me

the days with my husband by Lake Orta that I did not seek to open his

eyes to her. We came to Milan, and here I have been thanking her for the

happy days in Turin. Carlo is no longer to blame if he will not listen to

me. I have helped to teach him that I am no better than any of these

Italian women whom he despises. I spoke to him as his wife should do, at

last. He feigned to think me jealous, and I too remember the words of the

reproach, as if they had a meaning. Ah, my friend! I would say of nothing

that it is impossible, except this task of recovering lost ground with

one who is young. Experience of trouble has made me older than he. When

he accused me of jealousy, I could mention Countess d'Isorella's name no

more. I confess to that. Yet I knew my husband feigned. I knew that he

could not conceive the idea of jealousy existing in me, as little as I

could imagine unfaithfulness in him. But my lips would not take her name!

Wretched cowardice cannot go farther. I spoke of Rome. As often as I

spoke, that name was enough to shake me off: he had but to utter it, and

I became dumb. He did it to obtain peace; for no other cause. So, by

degrees, I have learnt the fatal truth. He has trusted her, for she is

very skilful; distrusting her, for she is treacherous. He has, therefore,

believed excessively in his ability to make use of her, and to counteract

her baseness. I saw his error from the first; and I went on dreaming and

singing; and now this night has come!"

Vittoria shadowed her eyes.

"I will go to him at once," said Merthyr.

"Yes; I am relieved. Go, dear friend," she sobbed; "you have given me

tears, as I hoped. You will not turn him; had it been possible, could I

have kept you from him so long? I know that you will not turn him from

his purpose, for I know what a weight it is that presses him forward in

that path. Do not imagine our love to be broken. He will convince you

that it is not. He has the nature of an angel. He permitted me to speak

before these men to-night--feeble thing that I am! It was a last effort.

I might as well have tried to push a rock."

She rose at a noise of voices in the hall below.

"They are going, Merthyr. See him now. There may be help in heaven; if

one could think it! If help were given to this country--if help were only

visible! The want of it makes us all without faith."

"Hush! you may hear good news from Carlo Alberto in a few hours," said

Merthyr.

"Ask Laura; she has witnessed how he can be shattered," Vittoria replied

bitterly.

Merthyr pressed her fingers. He was met by Carlo on the stairs.

"Quick!" Carlo said; "I have scarce a minute to spare. I have my adieux

to make, and the tears have set in already. First, a request: you will

promise to remain beside my wife; she will want more than her own

strength."

Such a request, coming from an Italian husband, was so great a proof of

the noble character of his love and his knowledge of the woman he loved,

that Merthyr took him in his arms and kissed him.

"Get it over quickly, dear good fellow," Carlo murmured; "you have

something to tell me. Whatever it is, it's air; but I'll listen."

They passed into a vacant room. "You know you are betrayed," Merthyr

began.

"Not exactly that," said Carlo, humming carelessly.

"Positively and absolutely. The Countess d'Isorella has sold your

secrets."

"I commend her to the profit she has made by it."

"Do you play with your life?"

Carlo was about to answer in the tone he had assumed for the interview.

He checked the laugh on his lips.

"She must have some regard for my life, such as it's worth, since, to

tell you the truth, she is in the house now, and came here to give me

fair warning."

"Then, you trust her."

"I? Not a single woman in the world!--that is, for a conspiracy."

It was an utterly fatuous piece of speech. Merthyr allowed it to slip,

and studied him to see where he was vulnerable.

"She is in the house, you say. Will you cause her to come before me?"

"Curiously," said Carlo, "I kept her for some purpose of the sort. Will

I? and have a scandal now? Oh! no. Let her sleep."

Whether he spoke from noble-mindedness or indifference, Merthyr could not

guess.

"I have a message from your friend Luciano. He sends you his love, in

case he should be shot the first, and says that when Lombardy is free he

hopes you will not forget old comrades who are in Rome."

"Forget him! I would to God I could sit and talk of him for hours.

Luciano! Luciano! He has no wife."

Carlo spoke on hoarsely. "Tell me what authority you have for charging

Countess d'Isorella with . . . with whatever it may be."

"A conversation between Countess Anna of Lenkenstein and a Major Nagen,

in the Duchess of Graatli's house, was overheard by our Beppo. They spoke

German. The rascal had a German sweetheart with him. She imprisoned him

for some trespass, and had come stealing in to rescue him, when those two

entered the room. Countess Anna detailed to Nagen the course of your

recent plotting. She named the hour this morning when you are to start

for Brescia. She stated what force you have, what arms you expect; she

named you all."

"Nagen--Nagen," Carlo repeated; "the man's unknown to me."

"It's sufficient that he is an Austrian officer."

"Quite. She hates me, and she has reason, for she's aware that I mean to

fight her lover, and choose my time. The blood of my friends is on that

man's head."

"I will finish what I have to say," pursued Merthyr. "When Beppo had

related as much as he could make out from his sweetheart's translation, I

went straight to the duchess. She is an Austrian, and a good and

reasonable woman. She informed me that a letter addressed by Countess

Anna to Countess d'Isorella fell into her hands this night. She burnt it

unopened. I leave it to you to consider whether you have been betrayed

and who has betrayed you. The secret was bought. Beppo himself caught the

words, 'from a mercenary Italian.' The duchess tells me that Countess

Anna is in the habit of alluding to Countess d'Isorella in those terms."

Carlo stretched his arms like a man who cannot hide the yawning fit.

"I promised my wife five minutes, though we have had the worst of the

parting over. Perhaps you will wait for me; I may have a word to say."

He was absent for little more than the space named. When he returned, he

was careful to hide his face. He locked the door, and leading Merthyr to

an inner room, laid his watch on the table, and said: "Now, friend, you

will see that I have nothing to shrink from, for I am going to do

execution upon myself, and before him whom I would, above all other men,

have think well of me. My wife supposes that I am pledged to this

Brescian business because I am insanely patriotic. If I might join

Luciano tomorrow I would shout like a boy. I would be content to serve as

the lowest in the ranks, if I might be with you all under the Chief. Rome

crowns him, and Brescia is my bloody ditch, and it is deserved! When I

was a little younger--I am a boy still, no doubt--I had the honour to be

distinguished by a handsome woman; and when I grew a little older, I

discovered by chance that she had wit. The lady is the Countess Violetta

d'Isorella. It is a grief to me to know that she is sordid: it hurts my

vanity the more. Perhaps: you begin to perceive that vanity governs me.

The signora Laura has not expressed her opinion on this subject with any

reserve, but to Violetta belongs the merit of having seen it without

waiting for the signs. First--it is a small matter, but you are

English--let me assure you that my wife has had no rival. I have taunted

her with jealousy when I knew that it was neither in her nature to feel

it, nor in mine to give reason for it. No man who has a spark of his

Maker in him could be unfaithful to such a woman. When Lombardy was

crushed, we were in the dust. I fancy we none of us knew how miserably we

had fallen--we, as men. The purest--I dare say, the bravest--marched to

Rome. God bless my Luciano there! But I, sir, I, my friend, I, Merthyr, I

said proudly that I would not abandon a beaten country: and I was admired

for my devotion. The dear old poet, Agostino, praised me. It stopped his

epigrams--during a certain time, at least. Colonel Corte admired me.

Marco Sana, Giulio Bandinelli admired me. Vast numbers admired me. I need

not add that I admired myself. I plunged into intrigues with princes, and

priests, and republicans. A clever woman was at my elbow. In the midst of

all this, my marriage: I had seven weeks of peace; and then I saw what I

was. You feel that you are tired, when you want to go another way and you

feel that you have been mad when you want to undo your work. But I could

not break the chains I had wrought, for I was a chief of followers. The

men had come from exile, or they had refused to join the Roman

enterprise:--they, in fact, had bound themselves to me; and that means, I

was irrevocably bound to them. I had an insult to wipe out: I refrained

from doing it, sincerely, I may tell you, on the ground that this admired

life of mine was precious. I will heap no more clumsy irony on it: I can

pity it. Do you see now how I stand? I know that I cannot rely on the

king's luck or on the skill of his generals, or on the power of his army,

or on the spirit in Lombardy: neither on men nor on angels. But I cannot

draw back. I have set going a machine that's merciless. From the day it

began working, every moment has added to its force. Do not judge me by

your English eyes: other lands, other habits; other habits, other

thoughts. And besides, if honour said nothing, simple humanity would

preserve me from leaving my band to perish like a flock of sheep."

He uttered this with a profound conviction of his quality as leader, that

escaped the lurid play of self-inspection which characterized what he had

previously spoken, and served singularly in bearing witness to the truth

of his charge against himself.

"Useless!" he said, waving his hand at anticipated remonstrances. "Look

with the eyes of my country; not with your own, my friend. I am disgraced

if I do not go out. My friends are disgraced if I do not head them in.

Brescia--sacrificed!--murdered!--how can I say what? Can I live under

disgrace or remorse? The king stakes on his army; I on the king. Whether

he fights and wins, or fights and loses, I go out. I have promised my

men--promised them success, I believe!--God forgive me! Did you ever see

a fated man before? None had plotted against me. I have woven my own web,

and that's the fatal thing. I have a wife, the sweetest woman of her

time. Goodnight to her! our parting is over."

He glanced at his watch. "Perhaps she will be at the door below. Her

heart beats like mine just now. You wish to say that you think me

betrayed, and therefore I may draw back? Did you not hear that Bergamo

has risen? The Brescians are up too by this time. Gallant Brescians! they

never belie the proverb in their honour; and to die among them would be

sweet if I had all my manhood about me. You would have me making a scene

with Violetta."

"Set the woman face to face with me!" cried Merthyr, sighting a gleam of

hope.

Carlo smiled. "Can she bear my burden though she be ten times guilty? Let

her sleep. I have her here harmless for the night. The Brescians are

up:--that's an hour that has struck, and there's no calling it to move a

step in the rear. Brescia under the big Eastern hill which throws a cloak

on it at sunrise! Brescia is always the eagle that looks over Lombardy!

And Bergamo! you know the terraces of Bergamo. Aren't they like a morning

sky? Dying there is not death; it's flying into the dawn. You Romans envy

us. Come, confess it; you envy us. You have no Alps, no crimson hills,

nothing but old walls to look on while you fight. Farewell, Merthyr

Powys. I hear my servant's foot outside. My horse is awaiting me saddled,

a mile from the city. Perhaps I shall see my wife again at the door

below, or in heaven. Addio! Kiss Luciano for me. Tell him that I knew

myself as well as he did, before the end came. Enrico, Emilio, and the

others--tell them I love them. I doubt if there will ever be but a ghost

of me to fight beside them in Rome. And there's no honour, Merthyr, in a

ghost's fighting, because he's shotproof; so I won't say what the valiant

disembodied 'I' may do by-and-by."

He held his hands out, with the light soft smile of one who asks

forgiveness for flippant speech, and concluded firmly: "I have talked

enough, and you are the man of sense I thought you; for to give me advice

is childish when no power on earth could make me follow it. Addio! Kiss

me."

They embraced. Merthyr said no more than that he would place messengers

on the road to Brescia to carry news of the king's army. His voice was

thick, and when Carlo laughed at him, his sensations strangely reversed

their situations.

There were two cloaked figures at different points in the descent of the

stairs. These rose severally at Carlo's approach, took him to their

bosoms, and kissed him in silence. They were his mother and Laura. A

third crouched by the door of the courtyard, which was his wife.

Merthyr kept aloof until the heavy door rolled a long dull sound.

Vittoria's head was shawled over. She stood where her husband had left

her, groping for him with one hand, that closed tremblingly hard on

Merthyr when he touched it. Not a word was uttered in the house.