Vittoria — Complete

by George Meredith

  CHAPTER XXIII

  FIRST HOURS OF THE FLIGHT

  Vittoria slept on like an outworn child, while Giacinta nodded over her,and started, and wondered what embowelled mountain they might be passingthrough, so cold was the air and thick the darkness; and wonderedmore at the old face of dawn, which appeared to know nothing of heragitation. But morning was better than night, and she ceased countingover her sins forward and backward; adding comments on them, excusingsome and admitting the turpitude of others, with 'Oh! I was naughty,padre mio! I was naughty--she huddled them all into one of memory'sspare sacks, and tied the neck of it, that they should keep safe for herfather-confessor. At such times, after a tumult of the blood, women havetender delight in one another's beauty. Giacinta doted on the marblecheek, upturned on her lap, with the black unbound locks slipping acrossit; the braid of the coronal of hair loosening; the chance flittingmovement of the pearly little dimple that lay at the edge of the bow ofthe joined lips, like the cradling hollow of a dream. At whiles it wouldtwitch; yet the dear eyelids continued sealed.

  Looking at shut eyelids when you love the eyes beneath, is more or lessa teazing mystery that draws down your mouth to kiss them. Their lashesseem to answer you in some way with infantine provocation; and fineeyelashes upon a face bent sideways, suggest a kind of internal smiling.Giacinta looked till she could bear it no longer; she kissed the cheek,and crooned over it, gladdened by a sense of jealous possession when shethought of the adored thing her mistress had been overnight. One of herhugs awoke Vittoria, who said, 'Shut my window, mother,' and sleptagain fast. Giacinta saw that they were nearer to the mountains.Mountain-shadows were thrown out, and long lank shadows of cypressesthat climbed up reddish-yellow undulations, told of the sun coming.The sun threw a blaze of light into the carriage. He shone like a goodfriend, and helped Giacinta think, as she had already been disposed toimagine, that the machinery by which they had been caught out of Milanwas amicable magic after all, and not to be screamed at. The soundmedicine of sleep and sunlight was restoring livelier colour to hermistress. Giacinta hushed her now, but Vittoria's eyes opened, andsettled on her, full of repose.

  'What are you thinking about?' she asked.

  'Signorina, my own, I was thinking whether those people I see on thehill-sides are as fond of coffee as I am.'

  Vittoria sat up and tumbled questions out headlong, pressing her eyesand gathering her senses; she shook with a few convulsions, but shed notears. It was rather the discomfort of their position than any vestigeof alarm which prompted Giacinta to project her head and interrogatethe coachman and chasseur. She drew back, saying, 'Holy Virgin! they areGermans. We are to stop in half-an-hour.' With that she put her hands touse in arranging and smoothing Vittoria's hair and dress--the dress ofCamilla--of which triumphant heroine Vittoria felt herself an odd littleghost now. She changed her seat that she might look back on Milan. Aletter was spied fastened with a pin to one of the cushions. She openedit, and read in pencil writing:

  'Go quietly. You have done all that you could do for good or for ill.The carriage will take you to a safe place, where you will soon see yourfriends and hear the news. Wait till you reach Meran. You will seea friend from England. Avoid the lion's jaw a second time. Here youcompromise everybody. Submit, or your friends will take you for a madgirl. Be satisfied. It is an Austrian who rescues you. Think yourselfno longer appointed to put match to powder. Drown yourself if a secondfrenzy comes. I feel I could still love your body if the obstinate soulwere out of it. You know who it is that writes. I might sign "Michiella"to this: I have a sympathy with her anger at the provoking Camilla.Addio! From La Scala.'

  The lines read as if Laura were uttering them. Wrapping her cloak acrossthe silken opera garb, Vittoria leaned back passively until the carriagestopped at a village inn, where Giacinta made speedy arrangements tosatisfy as far as possible her mistress's queer predilection for bathingher whole person daily in cold water. The household service of the innrecovered from the effort to assist her sufficiently to produce hotcoffee and sweet bread, and new green-streaked stracchino, the cheese ofthe district, which was the morning meal of the fugitives. Giacinta, whohad never been so thirsty in her life, became intemperately refreshed,and was seized by the fatal desire to do something: to do what she couldnot tell; but chancing to see that her mistress had silken slippers onher feet, she protested loudly that stouter foot-gear should be obtainedfor her, and ran out to circulate inquiries concerning a shoemaker whomight have a pair of country overshoes for sale. She returned to saythat the coachman and his comrade, the German chasseur, were drinkingand watering their horses, and were not going to start until after arest of two hours, and that she proposed to walk to a small Bergamasctown within a couple of miles of the village, where the shoes could beobtained, and perhaps a stuff to replace the silken dress. Receivingconsent, Giacinta whispered, 'A man outside wishes to speak to you,signorina. Don't be frightened. He pounced on me at the end of thevillage, and had as little breath to speak as a boy in love. He wasbehind us all last night on the carriage. He mentioned you by name. Heis quite commonly dressed, but he's a gallant gentleman, and exactlylike our Signor Carlo. My dearest lady, he'll be company for you while Iam absent. May I beckon him to come into the room?'

  Vittoria supposed at once that this was a smoothing of the way forthe entrance of her lover and her joy. She stood up, letting all herstrength go that he might the more justly take her and cherish her. Butit was not Carlo who entered. So dead fell her broken hope that her facewas repellent with the effort she made to support herself. He said, 'Iaddress the Signorina Vittoria. I am a relative of Countess Ammiani. Myname is Angelo Guidascarpi. Last night I was evading the sbirri in thisdisguise by the private door of La Scala, from which I expected Carlo tocome forth. I saw him seized in mistake for me. I jumped up on theempty box-seat behind your carriage. Before we entered the village I letmyself down. If I am seen and recognized, I am lost, and great evil willbefall Countess Ammiani and her son; but if they are unable to confrontCarlo and me, my escape ensures his safety!

  'What can I do?' said Vittoria.

  He replied, 'Shall I answer you by telling you what I have done?'

  'You need not, signore!

  'Enough that I want to keep a sword fresh for my country. I am at yourmercy, signorina; and I am without anxiety. I heard the chasseur sayingat the door of La Scala that he had the night-pass for the city gatesand orders for the Tyrol. Once in Tyrol I leap into Switzerland. Ishould have remained in Milan, but nothing will be done there yet, andquiet cities are not homes for me.'

  Vittoria began to admit the existence of his likeness to her lover,though it seemed to her a guilty weakness that she should see it.

  'Will nothing be done in Milan?' was her first eager question.

  'Nothing, signorina, or I should be there, and safe!'

  'What, signore, do you require me to help you in?'

  'Say that I am your servant.'

  'And take you with me?'

  'Such is my petition.'

  'Is the case very urgent?'

  'Hardly more, as regards myself, than a sword lost to Italy if I amdiscovered. But, signorina, from what Countess Ammiani has told me,I believe that you will some day be my relative likewise. Therefore Iappeal not only to a charitable lady, but to one of my own family.'

  Vittoria reddened. 'All that I can do I will do.'

  Angelo had to assure her that Carlo's release was certain the moment hisidentity was established. She breathed gladly, saying, 'I wonder at itall very much. I do not know where they are carrying me, but I think Iam in friendly hands. I owe you a duty. You will permit me to call youBeppo till our journey ends.'

  They were attracted to the windows by a noise of a horseman drawing reinunder it, whose imperious shout for the innkeeper betrayed the soldier'shabit of exacting prompt obedience from civilians, though there was nomilitary character in his attire. The innkeeper and his wife came outto the summons, and then both made way for the chasseur in attendan
ce onVittoria. With this man the cavalier conversed.

  'Have you had food?' said Vittoria. 'I have some money that will servefor both of us three days. Go, and eat and drink. Pay for us both.'

  She gave him her purse. He received it with a grave servitorial bow, andretired.

  Soon after the chasseur brought up a message. Herr Johannes requestedthat he might have the honour of presenting his homage to her: it wasimperative that he should see her. She nodded. Her first glance at HerrJohannes assured her of his being one of the officers whom she had seenon the stage last night, and she prepared to act her part. Herr Johannesdesired her to recall to mind his introduction to her by the SignorAntonio-Pericles at the house of the maestro Rocco Ricci. 'It is true;pardon me,' said Vittoria.

  He informed her that she had surpassed herself at the opera; so muchso that he and many other Germans had been completely conquered by her.Hearing, he said, that she was to be pursued, he took horse and gallopedall night on the road toward Schloss Sonnenberg, whither, as it had beenwhispered to him, she was flying, in order to counsel her to lie 'perdu'for a short space, and subsequently to conduct her to the schloss ofthe amiable duchess. Vittoria thanked him, but stated humbly that shepreferred to travel alone. He declared that it was impossible: that shewas precious to the world of Art, and must on no account be allowedto run into peril. Vittoria tried to assert her will; she found itunstrung. She thought besides that this disguised officer, with theill-looking eyes running into one, might easily, since he had heard her,be a devotee of her voice; and it flattered her yet more to imagine himas a capture from the enemy--a vanquished subservient Austrian. She hadseen him come on horseback; he had evidently followed her; and he knewwhat she now understood must be her destination.

  Moreover, Laura had underlined 'it is an Austrian who rescues you.' Thisman perchance was the Austrian. His precise manner of speech demanded anextreme repugnance, if it was to be resisted; Vittoria's reliance uponher own natural fortitude was much too secure for her to encourage thephysical revulsions which certain hard faces of men create in the heartsof young women.

  'Was all quiet in Milan?' she asked.

  'Quiet as a pillow,' he said.

  'And will continue to be?'

  'Not a doubt of it.'

  'Why is there not a doubt of it, signore?'

  'You beat us Germans on one field. On the other you have no chance. Butyou must lose no time. The Croats are on your track. I have ordered outthe carriage.'

  The mention of the Croats struck her fugitive senses with a panic.

  'I must wait for my maid,' she said, attempting to deliberate.

  'Ha! you have a maid: of course you have! Where is your maid?'

  'She ought to have returned by this time. If not, she is on the road.'

  'On the road? Good; we will pick up the maid on the road. We have not aminute to spare. Lady, I am your obsequious servant. Hasten out, I begof you. I was taught at my school that minutes are not to be wasted.Those Croats have been drinking and what not on the way, or they wouldhave been here before this. You can't rely on Italian innkeepers toconceal you.'

  'Signore, are you a man of honour?'

  'Illustrious lady, I am.'

  She listened simply to the response without giving heed to theprodigality of gesture. The necessity for flight now that Milan wasannounced as lying quiet, had become her sole thought. Angelo wasstanding by the carriage.

  'What man is this?' said Herr Johannes, frowning.

  'He is my servant,' said Vittoria.

  'My dear good lady, you told me your servant was a maid. This will neverdo. We can't have him.'

  'Excuse me, signore, I never travel without him.'

  'Travel! This is not a case of travelling, but running; and when yourun, if you are in earnest about it, you must fling away your baggageand arms.'

  Herr Johannes tossed out his moustache to right and left, and stampedhis foot. He insisted that the man should be left behind.

  'Off, sir! back to Milan, or elsewhere,' he cried.

  'Beppo, mount on the box,' said Vittoria.

  Her command was instantly obeyed. Herr Johannes looked her in the face.'You are very decided, my dear lady.' He seemed to have lost hisown decision, but handing Vittoria in, he drew a long cigar from hisbreastpocket, lit it, and mounted beside the coachman. The chasseur haddisappeared.

  Vittoria entreated that a general look-out should be kept for Giacinta.The road was straight up an ascent, and she had no fear that her maidwould not be seen. Presently there was a view of the violet domes of acity. 'Is it Bergamo?--is it Brescia?' she longed to ask, thinking ofher Bergamasc and Brescian friends, and of those two places famous forthe bravery of their sons: one being especially dear to her, as thebirthplace of a genius of melody, whose blood was in her veins. 'Didhe look on these mulberry trees?--did he look on these green-grassedvalleys?--did he hear these falling waters?' she asked herself, andclosed her spirit with reverential thoughts of him and with his music.She saw sadly that they were turning from the city. A little ball ofpaper was shot into her lap. She opened it and read: 'An officer of thecavalry.--Beppo.' She put her hand out of the window to signify thatshe was awake to the situation. Her anxiety, however, began to fret. Nosight of Giacinta was to be had in any direction. Her mistress commencedchiding the absent garrulous creature, and did so until she pitied her,when she accused herself of cowardice, for she was incapable of callingout to the coachman to stop. The rapid motion subdued such energy asremained to her, and she willingly allowed her hurried feelings to reston the faces of rocks impending over long ravines, and of perchedold castles and white villas and sub-Alpine herds. She burst from thefascination as from a dream, but only to fall into it again, reproachingher weakness, and saying, 'What a thing am I!' When she did make hervoice heard by Herr Johannes and the coachman, she was nervous andashamed, and met the equivocating pacification of the reply with anassent half-way, though she was far from comprehending the consolationshe supposed that it was meant to convey. She put out her hand tocommunicate with Beppo. Another ball of pencilled writing answered toit. She read: 'Keep watch on this Austrian. Your maid is two hoursin the rear. Refuse to be separated from me. My life is at yourservice.--Beppo.'

  Vittoria made her final effort to get a resolve of some sort; ending itwith a compassionate exclamation over poor Giacinta. The girl could soonfind her way back to Milan. On the other hand, the farther from Milan,the less the danger to Carlo's relative, in whom she now perceived astronger likeness to her lover. She sank back in the carriage and closedher eyes. Though she smiled at the vanity of forcing sleep in this way,sleep came. Her healthy frame seized its natural medicine to rebuild herafter the fever of recent days.

  She slept till the rocks were purple, and rose-purple mists were inthe valleys. The stopping of the carriage aroused her. They were at thethreshold of a large wayside hostelry, fronting a slope of forest and aplunging brook. Whitecoats in all attitudes leaned about the door; shebeheld the inner court full of them. Herr Johannes was ready to hand herto the ground. He said: 'You have nothing to fear. These fellows are onthe march to Cremona. Perhaps it will be better if you are served up inyour chamber. You will be called early in the morning.'

  She thanked him, and felt grateful. 'Beppo, look to yourself,' she said,and ran to her retirement.

  'I fancy that 's about all that you are fit for,' Herr Johannesremarked, with his eyes on the impersonator of Beppo, who bore thescrutiny carelessly, and after seeing that Vittoria had left nothingon the carriage-seats, directed his steps to the kitchen, as became hisfunctions. Herr Johannes beckoned to a Tyrolese maid-servant, of whomBeppo had asked his way. She gave her name as Katchen.

  'Katchen, Katchen, my sweet chuck,' said Herr Johannes, 'here are tenflorins for you, in silver, if you will get me the handkerchief of thatman: you have just stretched your finger out for him.'

  According to the common Austrian reckoning of them, Herr Johannes hadadopted the right method for ensuring the devotion of the maid
ens ofTyrol. She responded with an amazed gulp of her mouth and a grimace ofacquiescence. Ten florins in silver shortened the migratory term of themountain girl by full three months. Herr Johannes asked her the hourwhen the officers in command had supper, and deferred his own meal tillthat time. Katchen set about earning her money. With any common Beppo itwould have been easy enough--simple barter for a harmless kiss. But thisBeppo appeared inaccessible; he was so courtly and so reserved; nor isa maiden of Tyrol a particularly skilled seductress. The supper of theofficers was smoking on the table when Herr Johannes presented himselfamong them, and very soon the inn was shaken with an uproar of greeting.Katchen found Beppo listening at the door of the salle. She clapped herhands upon him to drag him away.

  'What right have you to be leaning your head there?' she said, andthreatened to make his proceedings known. Beppo had no jewel to give,little money to spare. He had just heard Herr Johannes welcomed amongthe officers by a name that half paralyzed him. 'You shall have anythingyou ask of me if you will find me out in a couple of hours,' hesaid. Katchen nodded truce for that period, and saw her home in theOberinnthal still nearer--twelve mountain goats and a cow her undisputedproperty. She found him out, though he had strayed through the courtof the inn, and down a hanging garden to the borders of a torrentthat drenched the air and sounded awfully in the dark ravine below. Heembraced her very mildly. 'One scream and you go,' he said; she felt thesaving hold of her feet plucked from her, with all the sinking horror,and bit her under lip, as if keeping in the scream with bare stitches.When he released her she was perfectly mastered. 'You do play tricks,'she said, and quaked.

  'I play no tricks. Tell me at what hour these soldiers march.'

  'At two in the morning.'

  'Don't be afraid, silly child: you're safe if you obey me. At what timehas our carriage been ordered?'

  'At four.'

  'Now swear to do this:--rouse my mistress at a quarter past two: bringher down to me.'

  'Yes, yes,' said Kitchen, eagerly: 'give me your handkerchief, and shewill follow me. I do swear; that I do; by big St. Christopher! who'spainted on the walls of our house at home.'

  Beppo handed her sweet silver, which played a lively tune for hertemporarily--vanished cow and goats. Peering at her features in thestarlight, he let her take the handkerchief from his pocket.

  'Oh! what have you got in there?' she said.

  He laid his finger across her mouth, bidding her return to the house.

  'Dear heaven!' Katchen went in murmuring; 'would I have gone out to thatsoft-looking young man if I had known he was a devil.'

  Angelo Guidascarpi was aware that an officer without responsibilitynever sleeps faster than when his brothers-in-arms have to be obedientto the reveillee. At two in the morning the bugle rang out: many lightedcigars were flashing among the dark passages of the inn; the whitecoatswere disposed in marching order; hot coffee was hastily swallowed; thelast stragglers from the stables, the outhouses, the court, and thestraw beds under roofs of rock, had gathered to the main body. The marchset forward. A pair of officers sent a shout up to the drowsy windows,'Good luck to you, Weisspriess!' Angelo descended from the concealmentof the opposite trees, where he had stationed himself to watch thedeparture. The inn was like a sleeper who has turned over. He madeKatchen bring him bread and slices of meat and a flask of wine, whichthings found a place in his pockets: and paying for his mistress andhimself, he awaited Vittoria's foot on the stairs. When Vittoria cameshe asked no questions, but said to Katchen, 'You may kiss me';and Kitchen began crying; she believed that they were lovers daringeverything for love.

  'You have a clear start of an hour and a half. Leave the high-road then,and turn left through the forest and ask for Bormio. If you reach Tyrol,and come to Silz, tell people that you know Katchen Giesslinger, andthey will be kind to you.'

  So saying, she let them out into the black-eyed starlight.