"You,--and you alone, Eustace. In reading _your_ nature I unread my own faith. In seeing your falsehood, I learned to believe there was no truth anywhere. I asked myself, what must be the religion if this man be its interpreter?"
"Hold,----hold!" cried D"Esmonde, pa.s.sionately. "It is not to such as you I can render account of my actions, nor lay bare the secret workings of my heart. Know this much, however, woman, and ponder over it well; that if a man like me can make shipwreck of his whole nature, crush his hopes, and blast his budding affections, the cause that exacts the sacrifice must needs be holy. Bethink you that my goal is not like _yours_. I have not plotted for a life of inglorious ease. I have not schemed to win a pampered and voluptuous existence. It is not in a whirlwind of pa.s.sionate enjoyment I have placed the haven of my hopes.
you see me--as I have ever been--poor, meanly housed, and meanly fed; not repining at my lot either, not deeming my condition a hard one. Why am I thus, then? Are the prizes that worldly men contend for above _my_ reach? Am I the inferior of those who are carrying away the great rewards of life? Where is the stain of falsehood in all this?"
"Were I to copy the picture and paint myself in the same colors,"
said Lola,----"were I to show what I have stooped to,--a scoff and a shame!--how I neither faltered at a crime nor trembled before exposure----all that I might be--what I now am--"
"The mistress of a Prince!" said D"Esmonde, with a contemptuous smile.
"Was it a prouder fortune when my lover was the serge-clad seminarist of Salamanca?" said she, laughing scornfully.
"I linked you with a higher destiny, Lola," said D"Esmonde, deliberately.
"Again you refer to this pretended marriage. But I put no faith in your words; nor, were they even true, should they turn me from my path."
"At least you should confirm your claim to his name and t.i.tle," said D"Esmonde. "The rank you will thus attain will but strengthen your position in the world; and they who would treat contemptuously the Toridor"s daughter will show every courtesy and deference to the English peeress."
"I will hazard nothing on your advice, priest!" said she, proudly.
"I know you as one who never counselled without a scheme of personal advantage. This Acton has injured you. You desire his ruin; or, perhaps, some deep intrigue awaits myself. It matters not; I will not aid you."
"How you misjudge me, Lola!" said he, sorrowfully. "I meant by this act to have repaired many an unconscious wrong, and to have vindicated an affection which the troubled years of life have never been able to efface. Amidst all the cares of great events, when moments are precious as days of ordinary existence, I have come to offer you this last reparation. Think well ere you reject it."
"Not for an instant!" cried she, pa.s.sionately. "Make weaker minds the tools of your subtle artifices, and leave _me_ to follow my own career."
"I will obey you," said D"Esmonde, with an air of deep humility. "I ask but one favor. As this meeting is unknown to all, never speak of it to Midchekoff. My name need never pa.s.s your lips, nor shall my presence again offend you. Adieu forever!"
Whether some pa.s.sing pang of remorse shot through her heart, or that a sudden sense of dread came across her, Lola stood unable to reply; and it was only as he moved away towards the door that she found strength to say, "Goodbye."
"Let me touch that hand for the last time, Lola," said he, advancing towards her.
"No, no,--leave me!" cried she, with a sick shudder, and as though his very approach suggested peril.
D"Esmonde bowed submissively, and pa.s.sed out. With slow and measured steps he traversed the alleys of the garden; but once outside the walls, he hastened his pace. Descending the mountain with rapid strides, he gained the road where the carriage waited in less than half an hour.
"To the city!" said he; and, throwing himself back in his seat, drew down the blinds, while, with folded arms and closed eyes, he tasted of what habit enabled him at any moment to command,--a refreshing sleep.
CHAPTER XXVII. VALEGGIO.
The little village of Valeggio, near the Lago di Guarda, was fixed upon as the spot where the commissaries of both armies should meet to arrange on the exchange of prisoners. It stood at about an equal distance from their headquarters, and, although a poor and insignificant hamlet, was conveniently situated for the purpose in hand. Soon after daybreak, the stirring sounds of marching troops awoke the inhabitants, and a half-squadron of Piedmontese lancers were seen to ride up the narrow street, and, dismounting, to picket their horses in the little Piazza of the market. Shortly after these came an equal number of Hungarian hussars, "Radetzky"s Own," who drew up in the square before the church; each party seeming carefully to avoid even a momentary contact with the other. Several country carts and wagons lined the street, for a number of prisoners had arrived the preceding evening, and taken up their quarters in the village, who might now be seen projecting their pale faces and bandaged heads from many a cas.e.m.e.nt, and watching with eager curiosity all that was going forward. About an hour later, an Austrian General, with his staff, rode in from the Peschiera road, while, almost at the very instant, a caleche with four horses dashed up from the opposite direction, conveying the Piedmontese "Commissary."
So accurately timed was the arrival, that they both drew up at the door of the little inn together, and as the one dismounted, the other alighted from his carriage.
The etiquette of precedence, so easily settled in the ordinary course of events, becomes a matter of some difficulty at certain moments, and so the two Generals seemed to feel it, as, while desirous of showing courtesy, each scrupled at what might seem a compromise of his country"s dignity.
The Austrian officer was a very old man, whose soldierlike air and dignified deportment recalled the warriors of a past century. The other, who was slighter and younger, exhibited an air of easy unconcern, rather smacking of courts than camps, and vouching for a greater familiarity with _salons_ than with soldier life.
They uncovered and bowed respectfully to each other, and then stood, each waiting, as it were, for the initiative of the other.
"After you, General," said the younger, at length, and with a manner which most courteously expressed the deference he felt for age.
"I must beg _you_ to go first, sir," replied the Austrian. "I stand here on the territory of my master, and I see in you all that demands the deference due to a guest."
The other smiled slightly, but obeyed without a word; and, ascending the stairs, was followed by the old General into the little chamber destined for their conference. Slight and trivial as this incident was, it is worth mention, as indicating the whole tone of the interview,--one characterized by a proud insistence on one side, and a certain plastic deference on the other. The Austrian spoke like one who felt authorized to dictate his terms; while the Piedmontese seemed ready to acquiesce in and accept whatever was proffered. The letters which accredited them to each other lay open on the table; but as this preliminary conversation had not a.s.sumed the formal tone of business, neither seemed to know the name or t.i.tle of the other. In fact, it appeared like a part of the necessary etiquette that they were simply to regard each other as representatives of two powers, neither caring to know or recognize any personal claims.
Lists of names were produced on both sides. Master-rolls of regiments, showing the precise ranks of individuals, and their standing in the service, all arranged with such care and accuracy as to show that the conference itself was little more than a formality. A case of brevet-rank, or the accident of a staff appointment, might now and then call for a remark or an explanation, but, except at these times, the matter went on in a mere routine fashion; a mark of a pencil sufficing to break a captivity, and change the whole fate of a fellow-man!
"Our task is soon ended, sir," said the Austrian, rising at last. "It would seem that officers on both sides prefer death to captivity in this war."
"The loss has been very great indeed," said the other. "The peculiar uniform of your officers, so distinct from their men, has much exposed them."
"They met their fate honorably, at least, sir; they wore the colors of their Emperor."
"Very true, General," replied the other, "and I will own to you our surprise at the fact that there have been no desertions, except from the ranks. The popular impression was, that many of the Hungarians would have joined the Italian cause. It was even said whole regiments would have gone over."
"It was a base calumny upon a faithful people and a brave soldiery,"
said the other. "I will not say that such a falsehood may not have blinded their eyes against their truth in their national struggle,--the love of country might easily have been used to a base and treacherous purpose,--but here, in this conflict, not a man will desert the cause of the Emperor!" The emotion in which he spoke these words was such that he was obliged to turn away his face to conceal it.
"Your words have found an ill.u.s.tration amongst the number of our wounded prisoners, General," said the other--"a young fellow who, it was said, broke his arrest to join the struggle at Goito, but whose name or rank we never could find out, for, before being taken, he had torn every mark of his grade from cuff and collar!"
"You know his regiment, perhaps?"
"It is said to be Prince Paul of Wurtemberg"s."
"What is he like,--what may be his age?" asked the General, hastily.
"To p.r.o.nounce from appearance, he is a mere boy,--brown-haired and blue-eyed, and wears no moustache."
"Where is he, sir?" asked the old man, with a suppressed emotion.
"In this very village. He was forwarded here last night by a special order of the Duke of Savoy, who has taken a deep interest in his fate, and requested that I should take measures, while restoring him, without exchange, to mention the signal bravery of his conduct."
"The Duke"s conduct is worthy of a soldier Prince!" said the General, with feeling, "and, in my master"s name, I beg to thank him."
"The youth is at the temporary hospital, but knows nothing of these arrangements for his release. Perhaps the tidings will come more gratefully to his ears from his own countryman."
"It is kindly spoken, sir. May I have the honor of knowing the name of one who has made this interview so agreeable by his courtesy?"
"My name at this side of the Alps, General, is Count de Valetta; but I have another and better known designation, before I p.r.o.nounce which, I would gladly enlist in my favor whatever I might of yonr good opinion."
"All this sounds like a riddle to me, Signor Conte," said the General, "and I am but a plain man, little skilled at unravelling a difficulty."
"I am addressing the General Count von Auersberg," said the other.
"Well, sir, it was hearing that you were the officer selected for this duty that induced me to ask I might be appointed also. I have been most anxious to meet you, and, in the accidents of a state of war, knew not how to compa.s.s my object."
The old General bowed politely, and waited, with all patience, for further enlightenment.