CHAPTER X.
"Who times gallops withal!" Alas! dear Rosalind, you might have founda sweeter illustration than that which you give. Doubtless "he gallopswith a thief to the gallows," but I fear me, impatient joy andreluctant fear, like most opposites in the circle of all things, meetand blend into each other. Time gallops full as fast when he carriesalong two lovers, and between the hours of meeting and parting hispace is certainly of the quickest.
Never, perhaps, did he travel so fast as with Leonora and Lorenzo.Their feelings were so new; they were so eager and so warm; they wereso full of youth and youth's impetuous fire, that----smouldering aslove had been for the last ten days, unseen even by their own eyes,and only lighted into a blaze by the events of the night before--wemight pursue the image of a great conflagration, and say, both wereconfused and dazzled by the light, and hardly felt or knew the rapidpassing of the quick-winged moments.
Blanche Marie might perhaps have estimated the passage of time morejustly; for the unhappy third person--however he may love the twoothers, and whatever interests he may feel in their happiness--has,after all, but a sorry and a tedious part to play; and although thefairer and the milder of the two girls was not yet more than fourteen,she might long--while she sat there, silent, and striving not tolisten to the murmured words of the two lovers--she might long for theday when her happy hour would come, and when the whole heart'streasury would be opened for her to pick out its brightest gems. Nay,perhaps, I might go even a little farther, and remind the reader thatlife's earlier stage is shorter in Italy than in most other Europeancountries; that the olive and the orange ripen fast; and that thefruits of the heart soon reach maturity in that land. Juliet--allItalian, impassioned Juliet--was not yet fourteen--not till "LammasEve"--when the consuming fire took possession of her heart, and LadyCapulet herself was a mother almost at the years of Blanche Marie.
But it is an hour----that at which she had now arrived in life's shortday--it is an hour of dreams and fairy forms, in the faint, vapourytwilight which lies between the dawn and the full day, when the risingsun paints every mist with gold and rose-colour, and through the veryair of your existence spreads a purple light. The tears of that sweettime are but as early dew-drops brightened into jewels by the light ofyouthful hope, and the onward look of coming years, though kindledwith the first beams of passion, knows not the fiery heat of noon, norcan conceive the arid dryness of satiety.
Blanche Marie sat and dreamed near her two cousins. At first, sheheard some of the words they spoke; but then she listened more to thespeakers in her own heart; and then she gave herself up to visions ofthe future; and the outward creature remained but a fair, motionlessstatue, unconscious of aught that passed around her, but full of lightand ever-varying fancies.
How passed the time none of the three knew, but it passed rapidly, andBianca was awakened from her reveries by the sound of a strange voice,saying, "Pardon, sweet lady," as some one passed her, brushing lightlyagainst her garments, which he could not avoid touching, on his way toLorenzo's bedside.
"Why, how now, Visconti!" exclaimed the new-comer, "What! made aleader, assaulted by an assassin, wounded with a poisoned weapon,vanquisher in the fight, saved by a miracle, and nursed by twobeautiful ladies--all in twenty-four hours? By my fay, thou art afavoured child of chivalry indeed!"
Blanche Marie looked round at the speaker, roused from her reveriesuddenly, but not unpleasantly. There was something joyous,light-hearted, and musical in the voice that spoke, which won favourby its very tone. Oh! there is a magic in the voice, of which we takenot account enough. Have you not often marked, reader, how one man ina mixed company will win attention in an instant, not by the matter ofhis words, not by the manner, but by the mere tone in which they arespoken? Have you not sometimes seen two men striving to gain the earof a fair lady, and eloquence, and sense, and wit all fail, whilesweet tones only have prevailed? The eye and the ear are but sentrieson guard, and the fair form and the sweet tone are but as passwords tothe camp. Nay, more: some voices have their peculiar harmonies withthe hearts of individuals. One will have no sweetness in its tone tomany, while to another it will be all melody; and all this is nostrange phenomenon; it is quite natural that it should be so. Where isthe man to whom the owlet is as sweet a songster as the lark! and whocan pass the nightingale on his spray, though he may not pause amoment by the gaudy paroquet? The blackbird's sweet, round pipe, thethrush's evening welcome to the approaching spring, the lark'srejoicing fugue in the blue sky, are all sweet to well-tuned ears; buteach finds readier access to some hearts than to others.
The voice which awoke Bianca Maria from her reverie was very pleasantto her ear. There was an unaffected frankness in it--as if welling upclear from the heart-which was prepossessing to a pure, young,innocent mind like hers.
"Ah! Signor De Vitry," replied Lorenzo, "I have, indeed, had goodfortune in many ways; and I suppose I ought in common gratitude toHeaven, to think it all unmixed good. But I have somewhat suffered inbody, and now I am troubled to think what is to become of my troopwhile I lie here useless. I would the king would bestow it upon DeTerrail, and let me have another chance."
"Think not of it," answered De Vitry; "we will arrange all things foryou. Bayard is a noble fellow, who will win high fame some day, but wemust obey the king. I find De Terrail has been here, and suppose youhave seen him, for they tell me he went on two hours ago."
"Two hours!" exclaimed Lorenzo; "hardly so much, I think."
"Ay! time flies fast under bright eyes," answered De Vitry, with alaugh. "Two hours the servants below tell me, and no less. However, Imust on my way. I only stopped to inquire what had happened, for nonews had reached me when I marched; and I found a prisoner below whomBayard left for me--a man who waited without, it seems, while MonsieurBuondoni busied himself with you within. I had three others of thevillains in my power before, but they do not seem to be as deep intheir master's secrets as this gentleman. But my provost must havefinished the work I gave him by this time, and so I must on. Yourpardon, sweet young lady, will you give me leave just to look forthfrom this window?"
He passed Blanche Marie with a courteous inclination of the head, andgazed forth toward the high road, and then, turning to Lorenzo, added:
"Ay, it is all right. Farewell for the present, Visconti. Rest quietlytill you are quite well. We shall halt at Pavia for two or three daystill the king comes on, and then probably for some days more. But Iwill come and see you from time to time, and we will make all needfularrangements. Shall I be welcome, sweet lady?"
"Oh, right welcome, noble sir," replied Bianca Maria, to whom hiswords were addressed; "but you must not go without tasting somerefreshment, and you must see the Count Rovera, my grandsire."
"Nay, I have but little time," answered De Vitry; "and yet a cup ofwine from such fair hands were mightily refreshing after a dusty ride.Your grandsire I will see when I am in a more fitting attire. 'Tis butsix miles to Pavia, I am told; and I will soon ride over again, wereit but to make excuse to the old count for hanging an assassin justbefore his gates. However, it may chance to warn others of the samecloth to venture here no more."
Bianca Maria's cheek turned somewhat pale, and she suddenly turned hereyes in the direction toward which De Vitry had been looking from thewindow a moment or two before. There was a dark object hanging amongthe bare branches of a mulberry-tree long divested of its leaves. Shecould not exactly distinguish what that object was, but she divined;and, turning away with a shudder, she murmured:
"For Heaven's sake, my lord, have him cut down."
"Certainly, if you wish it," replied De Vitry; "but, dear lady, it isneedful to punish such villains, or we should soon have but few of ourFrench nobles, or those who hold with us, left alive. However, therecan be no great harm in cutting him down now, for my provost does notdo any such things by halves."
He took a step toward the door, and then paused for a moment, as ifnot quite certain of the fair young girl's wishes.
"You know
, I suppose," he said, in a tone of inquiry, "that this manwhom they have just hanged, is one of those who came to assassinateSignor Visconti here?"
"My cousin has avenged himself in defending himself," answered BiancaMaria. "I am sure he does not wish any others to suffer."
"Well," answered De Vitry, with a laugh; "I thought myself mightilycompassionate that I did not hang the other three, as, I dare say,they all well deserved; but this fellow was caught waiting forBuondoni, and was, we found, in the whole secret. However, we willhave him cut down, if such be your pleasure."
"Oh, pray do, my lord--pray do, at once!" cried Bianca; "perhaps theremay be life in him yet."
"Now Heaven forbid!" cried De Vitry; "but come with me, sweet lady,and you shall hear the order given instantly. Adieu, Visconti!Farewell, beautiful lady with the dark eyes! You have not bestowed oneword upon me; but, nevertheless, I kiss your hand."
Thus saying, he left the room with Blanche Marie, who led him by astaircase somewhat distant from that which conducted to the greathall, where the body of Buondoni still lay, to a vestibule, whereseveral of the marquis's attendants were waiting. There the orderswhich De Vitry had promised were soon given, and a cup of wine wasbrought for his refreshment. He lingered over it for a longer space oftime than he had intended, and while he did so, he contrived to wileBianca Maria's thoughts away from the event that had saddened them.Indeed, though the young girl was less light and volatile than sheseemed to be, and many of her age really were, he effected hisobject--if it was an object--far more readily than could have beensupposed. There was something in his manner toward her which amusedand yet teased her, which pleased but did not frighten her. There wasa certain touch of gallantry in it, and evidently no small portion ofadmiration; and yet it was clear he looked upon her as a child, andthat in all his civil speeches there was at least as much jest asearnest. Nevertheless, every now and then there was a serious tonewhich fell pleasantly upon the young girl's ear, and was thought of inafter hours.
"I trust the count will soon be here," she said, at length; "you hadbetter stay, Signor de Vitry, and see him. He sat up during thegreater part of the night, I am told, anxious about my cousin. But hemust rise soon."
"My sweet lady," answered the soldier, "I must not stay. I havetwo--nay, three good reasons for going: first that a beautiful younglady has already beguiled me to stay longer than I should; secondly,that a pleasant old gentleman might beguile me to stay still longer;and, thirdly, that, as I intend to come back again often, I musthusband excuses for my visits, and one shall be to see the count, andto apologize in person for acting high justiciary upon his lands. Youhave forgiven me already, I think, else there in no truth is thoseblue eyes; and so I kiss your hand, and promise to behave better whennext I come."
Blanche Marie had ample matter for meditation during the rest of thatday, at least.
Leonora D'Orco: A Historical Romance Page 10