Sant' Ilario

by F. Marion Crawford

  CHAPTER XXI.

  Giovanni came home late in the afternoon and found Corona sitting bythe fire in her boudoir. She had known that he would return beforelong, but had not anticipated his coming with any pleasure. When heentered the room she looked up quietly, without a smile, to assureherself that it was he and no one else. She said nothing, and he satdown upon the other side of the fireplace. There was an air ofembarrassment about their meetings, until one or the other had madesome remark which led to a commonplace conversation. On the presentoccasion neither seemed inclined to be the first speaker and for someminutes they sat opposite to each other in silence. Giovanni glanced athis wife from time to time, and once she turned her head and met hiseyes. Her expression was cold and grave as though she wished him tounderstand that she had nothing to say. He thought she had never beenso beautiful before. The firelight, striking her face at an upwardangle, brought out clearly the noble symmetry of her features, thelevel brow, the wide, delicate nostrils, the even curve of her lips,the splendid breadth of her smooth forehead, shaded by her heavy blackhair. She seemed to feel cold, for she sat near the flames, resting onefoot upon the fender, in an attitude that threw into relief the perfectcurves of her figure, as she bent slightly forward, spreading her handsoccasionally to the blaze.

  "Corona--" Giovanni stopped suddenly after pronouncing her name, asthough he had changed his mind while in the act of speaking.

  "What is it?" she asked indifferently enough.

  "Would you like to go away? I have been wondering whether it would notbe better than staying here."

  She looked up in some surprise. She had thought of travelling more thanonce of late, but it seemed to her that to make a journey togetherwould be only to increase the difficulties of the situation. Therewould be of necessity more intimacy, more daily converse than the lifein Rome forced upon her. She shrank from the idea for the very reasonwhich made it attractive to her husband.

  "No," she answered. "Why should we travel? Besides, with a child soyoung--"

  "We might leave Orsino at home," suggested Giovanni. He was notprepared for the look she gave him as she replied.

  "I will certainly not consent to that."

  "Would you be willing to take him with you, and leave me here? Youcould easily find a friend to go with you--even my father. He wouldenjoy it immensely."

  There was the shortest possible pause before she answered him thistime. It did not escape him, for he expected it.

  "No. I will not do that, either. I do not care to go away. Why shouldI, and at such a time?"

  "I think I will go alone, in that case," said Giovanni quietly, butwatching her face. She made no reply, but looked at him curiously asthough she suspected him of laying a trap for her.

  "You say nothing. Is silence consent?"

  "I think it would be very unwise."

  "You do not answer me. Be frank, Corona. Would you not be glad to beleft alone for a time?"

  "Why do you insist?" she asked with a little impatience. "Are youtrying to make me say something that I shall regret?"

  "Would you regret it, if it were said? Why not be honest? It would bean immense relief to you if I went away. I could find an excellentexcuse and nobody would guess that there was anything wrong."

  "For that matter--there is nothing wrong. Of course no one would sayanything."

  "I know you will think that I have no tact," Giovanni observed withconsiderable justice.

  Corona could not repress a smile at the remark, which expressed mostexactly what she herself was thinking.

  "Frankly--I think it would be better to leave things alone. Do you notthink so, too?"

  "How coolly you say that!" exclaimed Giovanni. "It is so easy foryou--so hard for me. I would do anything you asked, and you will notask anything, because you would make any sacrifice rather than acceptone from me. Did you ever really love me, Corona? Is it possible thatlove can be killed in a day, by a word? I wonder whether there is anywoman alive as cold as you are! Is it anything to you that I shouldsuffer as I am suffering, every day?"

  "You cannot understand--"

  "No--that is true. I cannot understand. I was base, cowardly, cruel--Imake no defence. But if I was all that, and more too, it was because Iloved you, because the least suspicion drove me mad, because I couldnot reason, loving you as I did, any more than I can reason now. Oh, Ilove you too much, too wholly, too foolishly! I will try and change andbe another man--so that I may at least look at you without going mad!"

  He rose to his feet and went towards the door. But Corona called himback. The bitterness of his words and the tone in which they werespoken hurt her, and made her realise for a moment what he wassuffering.

  "Giovanni--dear--do not leave me so--I am unhappy, too."

  "Are you?" He had come to her side and stood looking down into her eyes.

  "Wretchedly unhappy." She turned her face away again. She could nothelp it.

  "You are unhappy, and yet I can do nothing. Why do you call me back?"

  "If I only could, if I only could!" she repeated in a low voice.

  There was silence for a few seconds, during which Giovanni could hearhis heart beat loudly and irregularly.

  "If I could but move you a little!" he said at last, almost inaudibly."If I could do anything, suffer anything for you--"

  She shook her head sorrowfully and then, as though afraid that she hadgiven him pain, she took his hand and pressed itaffectionately--affectionately, not lovingly. It was as cold as ice. Hesighed and once more turned away. Just then the door opened, and oldPasquale appeared, his face pale with fright.

  "Eccellenza, a note, and the man says that Prince Montevarchi has justbeen murdered, and that the note is from Donna Faustina, and the policeare in the Palazzo Montevarchi, and that the poor princess is dying,and--"

  Corona had risen quickly with a cry of astonishment. Giovanni had takenthe letter and stood staring at the servant as though he believed thatthe man was mad. Then he glanced at the address and saw that it was forhis wife.

  "Faustina is accused of the murder!" she exclaimed. "I must go to herat once. The carriage, Pasquale, instantly!"

  "Faustina Montevarchi--killed her own father!" cried Giovanni in theutmost astonishment.

  Corona thrust the note into his hands. It only contained a few wordsscrawled in an irregular hand as though written in great emotion.

  "Of course it is some horrible mistake," said Corona, "but I must go atonce."

  "I will go with you. I may be able to give some help."

  Five minutes later, they were descending the stairs. The carriage wasnot ready, and leaving orders for it to follow them they went out intothe street and took a passing cab. Under the influence of theexcitement they acted together instinctively. During the short drivethey exchanged but few words, and those only expressive of amazement atthe catastrophe. At the Palazzo Montevarchi everything was already inconfusion, the doors wide open, the servants hurrying aimlessly hitherand thither with frightened faces. They had just been released from thepreliminary examination held by the prefect of police. A party ofgendarmes stood together in the antechamber talking, while one of theirnumber mounted guard at the door with a drawn sabre, allowing no one toleave the house. A terrified footman led Giovanni and Corona to thegreat drawing-room.

  The vast chamber was lighted by a single lamp which stood upon a yellowmarble pier-table, and cast dim shadows on the tapestry of the walls.The old-fashioned furniture was ranged stiffly around the room asusual; the air was damp and cold, not being warmed even by thetraditional copper brazier. The voices of the group of personscollected within the circle of the light sounded hollow, and echoedstrangely in the huge emptiness. Dominant above the rest were heard thehard tones of the prefect of police.

  "I can assure you," he was saying, "that I feel the greatest regret inbeing obliged to assert my decision."

  Giovanni and Corona came forward, and the rest made way for them. Theprefect stood with his back to the light and to the table, like a
manwho is at bay. He was of middle height, very dark, and inclining tostoutness. His aquiline features and his eyes, round in shape, but halfveiled by heavy lids, gave him something of the appearance of an owl.When he spoke, his voice was harsh and mechanical, and he always seemedto be looking just over the head of the person he addressed. He made nogestures and held himself very straight.

  Opposite him stood Faustina Montevarchi, her face luminously pale, hereyes almost wild in their fixed expression. She held her hands claspedbefore her, and her fingers worked nervously. Around her stood herbrothers and their wives, apparently speechless with horror, crowdingtogether like frightened sheep before the officer of the law. Neitherher mother, nor Flavia, nor San Giacinto accompanied the rest. It wouldbe impossible to imagine a number of persons more dumb and helplesswith fear.

  "Oh Corona, save me!" cried Faustina, throwing herself into herfriend's arms as soon as she saw her face.

  "Will you be good enough to explain what has occurred?" said Giovanni,confronting the prefect sternly. "Do you mean to tell me that you haveaccused this innocent child of murdering her father? You are mad, sir!"

  "Pardon me, Signor Principe, I am not mad, and no one can regret morethan I what has occurred here," replied the other in loud, metallictones. "I will give you the facts in two minutes. Prince Montevarchiwas found dead an hour ago. He had been dead some time. He had beenstrangled by means of this pocket handkerchief--observe the stains ofblood--which I hold as part of the evidence. The Signora Donna Faustinais admitted to be the last person who saw the prince alive. She admits,furthermore, that a violent scene occurred between her and her fatherthis afternoon, in the course of which his Excellency struck hisdaughter, doubtless in the way of paternal correction--observe thebruise upon the young lady's mouth. There is also another upon her arm.It is clear that, being young and vigorous and remarkably well grown,she opposed violence to violence. She went behind him, for the princewas found dead in his chair, leaning forward upon the table, and shesucceeded in knotting the handkerchief so firmly as to produce asphyxiasuperinduced by strangulation without suspension. All this is veryclear. I have examined every member of the household, and havereluctantly arrived at the conclusion, most shocking no doubt to thesepacifically disposed persons, that this young lady allowed herself tobe so far carried away by her feelings as to take the life of herparent. Upon this charge I have no course but to arrest her person, thecase being very clear, and to convey her to a safe place."

  Giovanni could scarcely contain his wrath while the prefect made thislong speech, but he was resolved to listen to the account given withoutinterrupting it. When the man had finished, however, his anger burstout.

  "And do you take nothing into consideration," he cried, "but the factthat the prince was strangled with that handkerchief, and that therehad been some disagreement between him and his daughter in the courseof the day? Do you mean to say, that you, who ought to be a man ofsense, believe it possible that this delicate child could take a haleold gentleman by the throat and throttle him to death? It is madness, Isay! It is absurd!"

  "It is not absurd," answered the prefect, whose mechanical tone neverchanged throughout the conversation. "There is no other explanation forthe facts, and the facts are undeniable. Would you like to see thebody?"

  "There are a thousand explanations each ten thousand times asreasonable as the one you offer. He was probably murdered by a servantout of spite, or for the sake of robbing him. You are so sure of youridea that I daresay you did not think of searching the room to seewhether anything had been taken or not."

  "You are under a delusion. Everything has been searched. Moreover, itis quite well known that his deceased Excellency never kept money inthe house. There was consequently nothing to take."

  "Then it was done out of spite, by a servant, unless some one got inthrough the window."

  "No one could get in through the window. It was done out of anger bythis young lady."

  "I tell you it was not!" cried Giovanni, growing furious at the man'sobstinacy.

  "There is reason to believe that it was," returned the prefect,perfectly unmoved.

  Giovanni stamped his foot upon the floor angrily and turned away.Faustina had drawn back a little and was leaning upon Corona's arm forsupport, while the latter spoke words of comfort in her ear, such wordsas she could find at such a time. A timid murmur of approval arose fromthe others every time Giovanni spoke, but none of them ventured to sayanything distinctly. Giovanni was disgusted with them all and turned tothe young girl herself.

  "Donna Faustina, will you tell me what you know?"

  She had seemed exhausted by the struggle she had already endured, butat Sant' Ilario's question, she straightened herself and came forwardagain one or two steps. Giovanni thought her eyes very strange, but shespoke collectedly and clearly.

  "I can only say what I have said before," she answered. "My father sentfor me this afternoon, I should think about three o'clock. He spoke ofmy marriage, which he has been contemplating some time. I answered thatI would not marry Prince Frangipani's son, because--" she hesitated.

  "Because?"

  "Because I love another man," she continued almost defiantly. "A manwho is not a prince but an artist."

  A murmur of horror ran round the little group of the girl's relations.She glanced at them scornfully.

  "I am not ashamed of it," she said. "But I would not tell you unless itwere necessary--to make you understand how angry he was. I forgot--hehad called my mother, and she was there. He sent her away. Then he cameback and struck me! I put my handkerchief to my mouth because it bled.He snatched it away and threw it on the floor. He took me by thearm--he was standing--I wrenched myself out of his hands and ran away,because I was afraid of him. I did not see him again. Beyond this Iknow nothing."

  Giovanni was struck by the concise way in which Faustina told herstory. It was true that she had told it for the second time, but, whilebelieving entirely in her innocence, he saw that her manner mighteasily have made a bad impression upon the prefect. When she had done,she stood still a moment. Then her hands dropped by her sides and sheshrank back again to Corona who put her arm round the girl's waist andsupported her.

  "I must say that my sister's tale seems clearly true," said the feeblevoice of Ascanio Bellegra. His thin, fair beard seemed to tremble as hemoved his lips.

  "Seems!" cried Corona indignantly. "It is true! How can any one be somad as to doubt it?"

  "I do not deny its truth," said the prefect, speaking in the air. "Ionly say that the appearances are such as to oblige me to take steps--"

  "If you lay a hand on her--" began Giovanni.

  "Do not threaten me," interrupted the other calmly. "My men areoutside."

  Giovanni had advanced towards him with a menacing gesture. ImmediatelyFaustina's sisters-in-law began to whimper and cry with fright, whileher brothers made undecided movements as though wishing to part the twoangry men, but afraid to come within arm's length of either.

  "Giovanni!" exclaimed Corona. "Do not be violent--it is of no use. Hearme," she added, turning towards the prefect, and at the same timemaking a gesture that seemed to shield Faustina.

  "I am at your service, Signora Principessa, but my time is valuable."

  "Hear me--I will not detain you long. You are doing a very rash anddangerous thing in trying to arrest Donna Faustina, a thing you mayrepent of. You are no doubt acting as you believe right, but your heartmust tell you that you are wrong. Look at her face. She is a delicatechild. Has she the features of a murderess? She is brave against you,because you represent a horrible idea against which her whole naturerevolts, but can you believe that she has the courage to do such adeed, the bad heart to will it, or the power to carry it out? Think ofwhat took place. Her father sent for her suddenly. He insisted roughlyon a marriage she detests. What woman would not put out her wholestrength to resist such tyranny? What woman would submit quietly to bematched with a man she loathes? She said, 'I will not.' She even toldher father and mothe
r, together, that she loved another man. Her motherleft the room, her mother, the only one from whom she might haveexpected support. She was alone with her father, and he was angry. Washe an enfeebled invalid, confined to his chair, broken with years,incapable of an effort? Ask his children. We all knew him well. He wasnot very old, he was tall, erect, even strong for his years. He wasangry, beside himself with disappointment. He rises from his chair, heseizes her by the arm, he strikes her in the face with his other hand.You say that he struck her when he was seated. It is impossible--couldshe not have drawn back, avoiding the blow? Would the blow itself havehad such force? No. He was on his feet, a tall, angry man, holding herby one arm. Is it conceivable that she, a frail child, could have hadthe physical strength to force him back to his seat, to hold him therewhile she tied that handkerchief round his neck, to resist and suppresshis struggles until he was dead? Do you think such a man would dieeasily? Do you think that to send him out of the world it would beenough to put your fingers to his throat--such little fingers asthese?" she held up Faustina's passive hand in her own, before theireyes. "A man does not die in an instant by strangling. He struggles, hestrikes desperate blows, he turns to the right and the left, twistinghimself with all his might. Could this child have held him? I ask it ofyour common sense. I ask of your heart whether a creature that God hasmade so fair, so beautiful, so innocent, could do such terrible work.The woman who could do such things would bear the sign of her badnessin her face, and the fear of what she had done in her soul. She wouldtremble, she would have tried to escape, she would hesitate in herstory, she would contradict herself, break down, attempt to shed falsetears, act as only a woman who has committed a first great crime couldact. And this child stands here, submitted to this fearful ordeal,defended by none, but defending herself with the whole innocence of hernature, the glory of truth in her eyes, the self-conscious courage of astainless life in her heart. Is this assumed? Is this put on? You haveseen murderers--it is your office to see them--did you ever see onelike her? Do you not know the outward tokens of guilt when they arebefore your eyes? You would do a thing that is monstrous in absurdity,monstrous in cruelty, revolting to reason, outrageous to every instinctof human nature. Search, inquire, ask questions, arrest whom you will,but leave this child in peace; this child, with her angel face, herfearless eyes, her guiltless heart!"

  Encouraged by Corona's determined manner as well as by the good senseof her arguments, the timid flock of relations expressed their approvalaudibly. Giovanni looked at his wife in some surprise; for he had neverheard her make so long a speech before, and had not suspected her ofthe ability she displayed. He was proud of her in that moment and movednearer to her, as though ready to support every word she had uttered.The prefect alone stood unmoved by her eloquence. He was accustomed inhis profession to hear far more passionate appeals to hissensibilities, and he was moreover a man who, being obliged generallyto act quickly, had acquired the habit of acting upon the first impulseof his intelligence. For a moment his heavy lids were raised a little,either in astonishment or in admiration, but no other feature of hisface betrayed that he was touched.

  "Signora Principessa," he said in his usual tone, "those are argumentswhich may be used with propriety by the persons who will defend theaccused before the tribunals--"

  Giovanni laughed in his face.

  "Do you suppose, seriously, that Donna Faustina will ever be brought totrial?" he asked scornfully. The prefect kept his temper wonderfullywell.

  "It is my business to suppose so," he answered. "I am not the law, norhis Eminence either, and it is not for me to weigh the defence or tolisten to appeals for mercy. I act upon my own responsibility, and itis for me to judge whether the facts are likely to support me. Myreputation depends upon my judgment and upon nothing else. The fate ofthe accused depends upon a number of considerations with which I havenothing to do. I must tell you plainly that this interview must come toan end, I am very patient. I wish to overlook nothing. Arguments are ofno avail. If there is any better evidence to offer against any one elsein this house, I am here to take note of it."

  He looked coolly round the circle of listeners. Faustina's relationsshrank back a little under his glance.

  "Not being able to find any person here who appears more likely to beguilty, and having found enough to justify me in my course, I intend toremove this young lady at once to the Termini."

  "You shall not!" said Giovanni, placing himself in front of him in athreatening attitude. "If you attempt anything of the sort, I will haveyou in prison yourself before morning."

  "You do not know what you are saying, Signor Principe. You cannotoppose me. I have an armed force here to obey my orders, and if youattempt forcible opposition I shall be obliged to take you also, verymuch against my will. Donna Faustina Montevarchi, I have the honour toarrest you. I trust you will make no resistance."

  The semi-comic phrase fell from his lips in the professional tone; inspeaking of the arrest as an honour to himself, he was making anattempt to be civil according to his lights. He made a step forward inthe direction of the young girl, but Giovanni seized him firmly by thewrist. He made no effort to release himself, however, but stood still.

  "Signor Principe, be good enough to let go of my hand."

  "You shall not touch her," answered Giovanni, not relinquishing hisgrasp. He was beginning to be dangerous.

  "Signor Principe, release me at once!" said the prefect in a commandingtone. "Very well, I will call my men," he added, producing a smallsilver whistle with his free hand and putting it to his lips. "If Icall them, I shall have to send you to prison for hindering me in theexecution of my duty," he said, fixing his eyes on Giovanni andpreparing to sound the call.

  Giovanni's blood was up, and he would not have let the man go. At thatmoment, however, Faustina broke from Corona's arms and sprang forward.With one hand she pushed back Sant' Ilario; with the other she seizedthe whistle.

  "I will go with you!" she cried, speaking to the prefect. "I will gowith him!" she repeated, turning to Giovanni. "It is a horriblemistake, but it is useless to oppose him any longer. I will go, I say!"An hysterical chorus of cries from her relations greeted thisannouncement.

  Giovanni made a last effort to prevent her from fulfilling herintention. He was too much excited to see how hopeless the situationreally was, and his sense of justice was revolted at the thought of theindignity.

  "Donna Faustina, I implore you!" he exclaimed. "I can still preventthis outrage--you must not go. I will find the cardinal and explain themistake--he will send an order at once."

  "You are mistaken," answered the prefect. "He will do nothing of thekind. Besides, you cannot leave this house without my permission. Thedoors are all guarded."

  "But you cannot refuse that request," objected Corona, who had notspoken during the altercation. "It will not take half an hour for myhusband to see his Eminence and get the order--"

  "Nevertheless I refuse," replied the official firmly. "Donna Faustinamust go with me at once. You are interfering uselessly and making auseless scandal. My mind is made up."

  "Then I will go with her," said Corona, pressing the girl to her sideand bestowing a contemptuous glance on the cowering figures around her.

  By this time her sisters-in-law had fallen into their respectivehusband's arms, and it was hard to say whether the men or the womenwere more hopelessly hysterical. Giovanni relinquished the contestreluctantly, seeing that he was altogether overmatched by the prefect'ssoldiers.

  "I will go too," he said. "You cannot object to our taking DonnaFaustina in our carriage."

  "I do not object to that. But male visitors are not allowed inside theTermini prison after dark. The Signora Principessa may spend the nightthere if it is her pleasure. I will put a gendarme in your carriage toavoid informality."

  "I presume you will accept my promise to conduct Donna Faustina to theplace," observed Giovanni. The prefect hesitated.

  "It is informal," he said at last, "but to oblige you I will do
it. Yougive your word?"

  "Yes--since you are able to use force. We act under protest. You willremember that."

  Faustina's courage did not forsake her at the last moment. She kissedeach of her brothers and each of her sisters-in-law as affectionatelyas though they had offered to bear her company. There were many loudcries and sobs and protestations of devotion, but not one proposed togo with her. The only one who would have been bold enough was Flavia,and even if she had been present she would not have had the heart toperform such an act of unselfishness. Faustina and Corona, Giovanni andthe prefect, left the room together.

  "I will have you in prison before morning," said Sant' Ilario fiercely,in the ear of the official, as they reached the outer hall.

  The prefect made no reply, but raised his shoulders almostimperceptibly and smiled for the first time, as he pointed silently tothe gendarmes. The latter formed into an even rank and tramped down thestairs after the four persons whom they accompanied. In a few minutesthe whole party were on their way to the Termini, Faustina with herfriends in Sant' Ilario's carriage, the prefect in his little brougham,the soldiers on their horses, trotting steadily along in a close squad.

  Faustina sat leaning her head upon Corona's shoulder, while Giovannilooked out of the window into the dark streets, his rage boiling withinhim, and all the hotter because he was powerless to change the courseof events. From time to time he uttered savage ejaculations whichpromised ill for the prefect's future peace, either in this world or inthe next, but the sound of the wheels rolling upon the unevenpaving-stones prevented his voice from reaching the two women.

  "Dear child," said Corona, "do not be frightened. You shall be freeto-night or in the morning--I will not leave you."

  Faustina was silent, but pressed her friend's hand again and again, asthough she understood. She herself was overcome by a strange wondermentwhich made her almost incapable of appreciating what happened to her.She felt very much as she had felt once before, on the night of theinsurrection, when she had found herself lying upon the pavement beforethe half-ruined barracks, stunned by the explosion, unable for a timeto collect her senses, supported only by her physical elasticity, whichwas yet too young to be destroyed by any moral shock.