Complete Works of F Marion Crawford

by F. Marion Crawford

  “Pasquale,” she said, “I can trust you, I am sure. You are a good friend to Zorzi.”

  The porter growled something incoherent, but she understood what he meant.

  “Yes,” she continued, “I trust you, and you must trust me. It is absolutely necessary that I should speak with Zorzi alone to-night. No one knows that I have left the house, and no one must know that I have been here.”

  The old sailor had seen much in his day, but he was profoundly astonished at Marietta’s audacity.

  “You are the mistress,” he said in a grave and quiet voice that Marietta had never heard before. “But I am an old man, and I cannot help telling you that it is not seemly for a young girl to be alone at night with a young man, in the place where he lives. You will forgive me for saying so, because I have served your father a long time.”

  “You are quite right,” answered Marietta. “But in matters of life and death there is nothing seemly or unseemly. I have not time to explain all this. Zorzi is in great danger. For my father’s sake I must warn him, and I cannot stay out long. Not even Nella must know that I am here. Be ready to let me out.”

  She almost ran down the corridor to the garden. The moon was already too low to shine upon the walk, but the beams silvered the higher leaves of the plane-tree, and all was clear and distinct. Even in her haste, she glanced at the place where she had so often sat, before her life had began to change.

  There was a strong light in the laboratory and the window was open. She looked in and saw Zorzi sitting in the great chair, his head leaning back and his eyes closed. He was so pale and worn that, she felt a sharp pain as her eyes fell on his face. His crutch was beside him, and he seemed to be asleep. It was a pity to wake him, she thought, yet she could not lose time; she had lost too much already in talking with Pasquale.

  “Zorzi!” She called him softly.

  He started in his sleep, opened his eyes wide, and tried to spring up without his crutch, for he fancied himself in a dream. She had thrown back the drapery that covered her head and the bright light fell upon her face. It hurt her again to see how he staggered and put out his hand for his accustomed support.

  “I am coming in,” she said quietly. “Do not move, unless the door is locked.”

  She met him before he was half across the room. Instinctively she put out her hand to help him back to his chair. Then she understood that he did not need it, for he was much better now. She saw that he looked to the window, expecting to see Nella, and she smiled.

  “I am alone,” she said. “You see how I trust you. Only Pasquale knows that I am here. You must sit down, and I will sit beside you, for I have much to say.”

  He looked at her in silent wonder for a moment, happy beyond words to be with her, but very anxious as to the reasons which could have brought her to him at such an hour and quite alone. Her manner was so quiet and decided that it did not even occur to him to protest against her coming, and he sat down as she bade him, but on the bench, and she seated herself in the chair, turning in it so that she could see his face. They were near enough to speak in low tones.

  “My brother Giovanni hates you,” she began. “He means to ruin you, if he can, before my father comes home.”

  “I am not afraid of him,” said Zorzi, speaking for the first time since she had entered. “Let him do his worst.”

  “You do not know what his worst is,” answered Marietta, “and he has got Messer Jacopo Contarini to help him. You are surprised? Yes. My betrothed husband has promised to speak with his father against you, at once. You know that he is of the Council.”

  Zorzi’s face expressed the utmost astonishment.

  “Are you quite sure that it is Jacopo Contarini?” he asked, as if unable to believe what she said.

  “Is it likely that I should be mistaken? My brother was with him this afternoon at the palace, our gondolier heard them talking on the stairs as they came down. He told Nella, and she has just told me. Giovanni heaped all sorts of abuse on you, and Messer Jacopo agreed with all he said. Then they spoke of arresting you and bringing you to justice, and they talked of the Council. After that Giovanni met the Governor of Murano and got into his gondola, and they talked in a low tone. My brother gave him a sealed document, and the Governor said that it should not be to-night, but to-morrow. That is all I know, but it is enough.”

  Zorzi half closed his eyes for a moment, in deep thought; and in a flash he understood that Contarini wished him out of the way, and was taking the first means that offered to get rid of him. To keep faith with such a man would be as foolish as to expect any faithfulness from him. Zorzi opened his eyes again, and looked at the face of the woman he loved. His oath to the society had stood between him and her, and he knew that it was no longer binding on him, since Jacopo Contarini was helping to send him to destruction. Yet now that it was gone, he saw also that it had been the least of the obstacles that made up the barrier.

  “Of what do they accuse me?” he asked, after a moment’s silence. “What can they prove against me?”

  “I cannot tell. It matters very little. Do you understand? To-morrow, if not to-night, the Governor’s men will come here to arrest you, and if you have not escaped, you will be imprisoned and taken before the Council. They may accuse you of being involved in a conspiracy — they may torture you.”

  She shivered at the thought, and looked into his dark eyes with fear and pity. His lip curled a little disdainfully.

  “Do you think that I shall run away?” he asked.

  “You will not stay here, and let them arrest you!” cried Marietta anxiously.

  “Your father left me here to take care of what belongs to him, and there is much that is valuable. I thank you very much for warning me, but I know what your brother means to do, and I shall not go away of my own accord. If he can have me taken off by force, he will come here alone and search the place. If he searches long enough, he may find what he wants.”

  “Is Paolo Godi’s manuscript in this room?” asked Marietta quietly.

  Zorzi stared at her in surprise.

  “How did you know that your father left it with me?” he asked.

  “He would not have entrusted it to any one else. That is natural. My brother wants it. Is that the reason why you will not escape? Or is there any other?”

  “That is the principal reason,” answered Zorzi. “Another is that there is valuable glass here, which your brother would take.”

  “Which he would steal,” said Marietta bitterly. “But Pasquale can bury it in the garden after you are gone. The principal thing is the book. Give it to me. I will take care of it till my father comes back. Until then you must hide somewhere, for it is madness to stay here. Give me the book, and let me take it away at once.”

  “I cannot give it to you,” Zorzi said, with a puzzled expression which Marietta did not understand.

  “You do not trust me,” she answered sadly.

  He did not reply at once, for the words made no impression on him when he heard them. He trusted her altogether, but there was a material difficulty in the way. He remembered how long it had taken to hide the iron box under broken glass, and he knew how long it would take to get it out again. Marietta could not stay in the laboratory, late into the night, and yet if she did not take the box with her now, she might not be able to take it at all, since neither she nor Nella could have carried it to the house by day, without being seen.

  Marietta rested her elbow on the arm of the big chair, and her hand supported her chin, in an attitude of thought, as she looked steadily at Zorzi’s face, and her own was grave and sad.

  “You never trusted me,” she said presently. “Yet I have been a good friend to you, have I not?”

  “A friend? Oh, much more than that!” Zorzi turned his eyes from her. “I trust you with all my heart.”

  She shook her head incredulously.

  “If you trusted me, you would do what I ask,” she said. “I have risked something to help you — perhaps to save your
life — who knows? Do you know what would happen if my brother found me here alone with you? I should end my life in a convent. But if you will not save yourself, I might as well not have come.”

  “I would give you the book if I could,” answered Zorzi. “But I cannot. It is hidden in such a way that it would take a long time to get it out. That is the simple truth. Your father and I had buried it here under the stones, but somehow your brother suspected that, and I have changed the hiding-place. It took a whole morning to do it.”

  Still Marietta did not quite believe that he could not give it to her if he chose. It seemed as if there must always be a shadow between them, when they were together, always the beginning of a misunderstanding.

  “Where is it?” she asked, after a moment’s hesitation. “If you are in earnest you will tell me.”

  “It is better that you should know, in case anything happens to me,” answered Zorzi. “It is buried in that big jar, in some three feet of broken glass. I had to take the glass out bit by bit, and put it all back again.”

  As Marietta looked at the jar, a little colour rose in her face again.

  “Thank you,” she said. “I know you trust me, now.”

  “I always have,” he answered softly, “and I always shall, even when you are married to Jacopo Contarini.”

  “That is still far off. Let us not talk of it. You must get ready to leave this place before morning. You must take the skiff and get away to the mainland, if you can, for till my father comes you will not be safe in Venice.”

  “I shall not go away,” said Zorzi firmly. “They may not try to arrest me after all.”

  “But they will, I know they will!” All her anxiety for him came back in a moment. “You must go at once! Zorzi, to please me — for my sake — leave to-night!”

  “For your sake? There is nothing I would not do for your sake, except be a coward.”

  “But it is not cowardly!” pleaded Marietta. “There is nothing else to be done, and if my father could know what you risk by staying, he would tell you to go, as I do. Please, please, please—”

  “I cannot,” he answered stubbornly.

  “Oh, Zorzi, if you have the least friendship for me, do what I ask! Do you not see that I am half mad with anxiety? I entreat you, I beg you, I implore you—”

  Their eyes met, and hers were wide with fear for him, and earnestness, and they were not quite dry.

  “Do you care so much?” asked Zorzi, hardly knowing what he said. “Does it matter so much to you what becomes of me?”

  He moved nearer on the bench. Leaning towards her, where he sat, he could rest his elbow on the broad arm of the low chair, and so look into her face. She covered her eyes, and shook a little, and her mantle slipped from her shoulders and trembled as it settled down into the chair. He leaned farther, till he was close to her, and he tried to uncover her eyes, very gently, but she resisted. His heart beat slowly and hard, like strokes of a hammer, and his hands were shaking, when he drew her nearer. Presently he himself sat upon the arm of the chair, holding her close to him, and she let him press her head to his breast, for she could not think any more; and all at once her hands slipped down and she was resting in the hollow of his arm, looking up to his face.

  It seemed a long time, as long as whole years, since she had meant to drop another rose in his path, or even since she had suffered him to press her hand for a moment. The whole tale was told now, in one touch, in one look, with little resistance and less fear.

  “I love you,” he said slowly and earnestly, and the words were strange to his own ears.

  For he had never said them before, nor had she ever heard them, and when they are spoken in that way they are the most wonderful words in the world, both to speak and to hear.

  The look he had so rarely seen was there now, and there was no care to hide what was in her eyes, for she had told him all, without a word, as women can.

  “I have loved you very long,” he said again, and with one hand he pressed back her hair and smoothed it.

  “I know it,” she answered, gazing at him with lips just parted. “But I have loved you longer still.”

  “How could I guess it?” he asked. “It seems so wonderful, so very strange!”

  “I could not say it first.” She smiled. “And yet I tried to tell you without words.”

  “Did you?”

  She nodded as her head lay in his arm, and closed her smiling lips tightly, and nodded again.

  “You would not understand,” she said. “You always made it hard for me.”

  “Oh, if I had only known!”

  She lay quietly on his arm for a few seconds, and neither spoke. Only the low roar of the furnace was heard in the hot stillness. Marietta looked up steadily into his face, with unwinking eyes.

  “How you look at me!” he said, with a happy smile.

  “I have often wanted to look at you like this,” she answered gravely. “But until you had told me, how could I?”

  He bent down rather timidly, but drawn to her by a power he could not resist. His first kiss touched her forehead lightly, with a sort of boyish reverence, while a thrill ran through every nerve and fibre of his body. But she turned in his arms and threw her own suddenly round his neck, and in an instant their lips met.

  Zorzi was in a dream, where Marietta alone was real. All thought and recollection of danger vanished, the very room was not the laboratory where he had so long lived and worked, and thought and suffered. The walls were gold, the stone pavement was a silken carpet, the shadowy smoke-stained beams were the carved ceiling of a palace, he was himself the king and master of the whole world, and he held all his kingdom in his arms.

  “You understand now,” Marietta said at last, holding his face before her with her hands.

  “No,” he answered lovingly. “I do not understand, I will not even try. If I do, I shall open my eyes, and it will suddenly be daylight, and I shall put out my hands and find nothing! I shall be alone, in my room, just awake and aching with a horrible longing for the impossible. You do not know what it is to dream of you, and wake in the grey dawn! You cannot guess what the emptiness is, the loneliness!”

  “I know it well,” said Marietta. “I have been perfectly happy, talking to you under the plane-tree, your hand in mine, and mine in yours, our eyes in each other’s eyes, our hearts one heart! And then, all at once, there was Nella, standing at the foot of my bed with a big dish in her hands, laughing at me because I had been sleeping so soundly! Oh, sometimes I could kill her for waking me!”

  She drew his face to hers, with a little laugh that broke off short. For a kiss is a grave matter.

  “How much time we have wasted in all these months!” she said presently. “Why would you never understand?”

  “How could I guess that you could ever love me?” Zorzi asked.

  “I guessed that you loved me,” objected Marietta. “At least,” she added, correcting herself, “I was quite sure of it for a little while. Then I did not believe it all. If I had believed it quite, they should never have betrothed me to Jacopo Contarini!”

  The name recalled all realities to Zorzi, though she spoke it very carelessly, almost with scorn. Zorzi sighed and looked up at last, and stared at the wall opposite.

  “What is it?” asked Marietta quickly. “Why do you sigh?”

  “There is reason enough. Are you not betrothed to him, as you say?”

  Marietta straightened herself suddenly, and made him look at her. A quick light was in her eyes, as she spoke.

  “Do you know what you are saying? Do you think that if I meant to marry Messer Jacopo, I should be here now, that I should let you hold me in your arms, that I would kiss you? Do you really believe that?”

  “I could not believe it,” Zorzi answered. “And yet—”

  “And yet you almost do!” she cried. “What more do you need, to know that I love you, with all my heart and soul and will, and that I mean to be your wife, come what may?”

  “How is
it possible?” asked Zorzi almost disconsolately. “How could you ever marry me? What am I, after all, compared with you? I am not even a Venetian! I am a stranger, a waif, a man with neither name nor fortune! And I am half a cripple, lame for life! How can you marry me? At the first word of such a thing your father will join his son against me, I shall be thrown into prison on some false charge and shall never come out again, unless it be to be hanged for some crime I never committed.”

  “There is a very simple way of preventing all those dreadful things,” answered Marietta.

  “I wish I could find it.”

  “Take me with you,” she said calmly.

  Zorzi looked at her in dumb surprise, for she could not have said anything which he had expected less.

  “Listen to me,” she continued. “You cannot stay here — or rather, you shall not, for I will not let you. No, you need not smile and shake your head, for I will find some means of making you go.”

  “You will find that hard, dear love, for that is the only thing I will not do for you.”

  “Is it? We shall see. You are very brave, and you are very, very obstinate, but you are not very sensible, for you are only a man, after all. In the first place, do you imagine that even if Giovanni were to spend a whole week in this room, he would think of looking for the box amongst the broken glass?”

  “No, I do not think he would,” answered Zorzi. “That was sensible of me, at all events.” She laughed.

  “Oh, you are clever enough! I never said that you were not that. I only said that you had no sense. As for instance, since you are sure that my brother cannot find the box, why do you wish to stay here?”

  “I promised your father that I would. I will keep my promise, at all costs.”

  “In which of two ways shall you be of more use to my father? If you hide in a safe place till he comes home, and if you then come back to him and help him as before? Or if you allow yourself to be thrown into prison, and tried, and perhaps hanged or banished, for something you never did? And if any harm comes to you, what do you think would become of me? Do you see? I told you that you had no common sense. Now you will believe me. But if all this is not enough to make you go, I have another plan, which you cannot possibly oppose.”