The Daltons Volume II Part 49

"His age I should guess to be two or three and twenty,--not more, certainly, and possibly even less than that In height he is taller than I, but slighter. As to face, even with all his scars and bruises, he looked a handsome fellow, and had a clear blue eye that might have become an Englishman."

"You did not hear him speak?" asked the priest, with heightening curiosity.

"Except the few words I have mentioned, he never uttered a syllable. We learned that he had broken his arrest from one of his comrades; but the fellow, seeing our anxiety to hear more, immediately grew reserved, and would tell us nothing. I merely allude to the circ.u.mstance to show that the disaffection we trust to amongst the Hungarians is not universal; and even when they falter in their allegiance to the State, by some strange contradiction they preserve their loyalty to the 'Kaiser.'"

"I wish I could learn more about your prisoner, my Lord," said the Abbe, thoughtfully. "The story has interested me deeply."

"Midchekoff can, perhaps, tell you something, then, for he saw him later than I did. He accompanied the Duke of Genoa in an inspection of the prisoners just before we left the camp."

"And you said that he had a fair and Saxon-looking face?" said the Abbe.

"Faith, I 've told you all that I know of him," said Norwood, impatiently. "He was a brave soldier, and with ten thousand like him on our side I 'd feel far more at my ease for the result of this campaign than with the aid of those splendid squadrons they call the 'Speranza d'

Italia'."

"And the Crociati, my Lord, what are _they_ like?" said Morlache, smiling.

"A horde of robbers; a set of cowardly rascals who have only courage for cruelty; the outpourings of jails and offcasts of convents; degraded friars and escaped galley-slaves."

"My Lord, my Lord!" interrupted Morlache, suppressing his laughter with difficulty, and enjoying to the full this torrent of indignant anger.

"You are surely not describing faithfully the soldiers of the Pope,--the warriors whose banners have been blessed by the Holy Father?"

"Ask their General, Ferrari, whom they have three times attempted to murder. Ask _him_ their character," said Norwood, pa.s.sionately, "if D'Esmonde himself will not tell you."

"Has it not been the same in every land that ever struck a blow for liberty?" said the Abbe. "Is it the statesman or the philosopher who have racked their brains and wasted their faculties in thought for the good of their fellow-men that have gone forth to battle? or is it not rather the host of unquiet spirits who infest every country, and who seek in change the prosperity that others pursue in patient industry?

Some are enthusiastic for freedom, some seek a field of personal distinction, some are mere freebooters; but whatever they be, the cause remains the same."

"You may be right,----for all I know you _are_ right," said Norwood, doggedly; "but, for my own part, I have no fancy to fight shoulder to shoulder with cut-throats and housebreakers, even though the Church should have hallowed them with its blessing." Norwood arose as he said this, And walked impatiently up and down the chamber.

"When do you propose to return to the army, my Lord?" said D'Esmonde, after a pause.

"I'm not sure; I don't even know if I shall return at all!" said Norwood, hastily. "I see little profit and less glory in the service!

What say you, Morlache? Have they the kind of credit you would like to accept for a loan?"

"No, my Lord," said the Jew, laughing; "Lombardy scrip would stand low in our market. I 'd rather advance my moneys on the faith of your good friend the Lady Hester Onslow."

Norwood bit his lip and colored, but made no reply.

"She has crossed into Switzerland, has she not?" asked D'Esmonde, carelessly.

"Gone to England!" said the Viscount, briefly.

"When----how? I never heard of that," said the Abbe. "I have put off writing to her from day to day, never suspecting that she was about to quit the Continent."

"Nor did she herself till about a week ago, when Sir Stafford took an equally unexpected departure for the other world--"

"Sir Stafford dead! Lady Hester a widow!"

"Such is, I believe, the natural course of things for a woman to be when her husband dies."

"A rich widow, too, I presume, my Lord?" said the Abbe, with a quiet but subtle glance at Norwood.

"That is more than she knows herself at this moment, I fancy; for they say that Sir Stafford has involved his bequests with so many difficulties, and hampered them with such a ma.s.s of conditions, that whether she will be a millionnaire or be actually poor must depend upon the future. I can answer for one point, however, Abbe," said he, sarcastically; "neither the Sacred College nor the blessed brethren of the 'Pace' are like to profit by the banker's economies."

"Indeed, my Lord," said the Abbe, slowly, while a sickly pallor came over his countenance.

"He has left a certain Dr. Grounsell his executor," continued Norwood; "and, from all that I can learn, no-man has less taste for painted windows, stoles, or saints' s.h.i.+n-bones."

"Probably there may be other questions upon which he will prove equally obdurate," said the Abbe, in a voice only audible to the Viscount "Is her Ladys.h.i.+p at liberty to marry again?"

"I cannot, I grieve to say, give you any information on that point,"

said Norwood, growing deep red as he spoke.

"As your Lords.h.i.+p is going to England--"

"I didn't say so. I don't remember that I told you that!" cried he, hastily.

"Pardon me if I made such a palpable mistake; but it ran in my head that you said something to that purport."

"It won't do, Abbe! it won't do," said Norwood, in a low whisper. "We, who have graduated at the 'Red House' are just as wide awake as you of Louvain and St. Omer."

D'Esmonde looked at him with an expression of blank astonishment, and seemed as if he had not the most vague suspicion as to what the sarcasm referred.

"When can I have half an hour with you, Morlache?" said the Viscount

"Whenever it suits you, my Lord. What say you to to-morrow morning at eleven?"

"No, no! let it be later; I must have a ten hours' sleep after all this fatigue, and the sooner I begin the better."

"Where do you put up, my Lord,--at the Hotel de l'Arno?" asked the Abbe.

"No; I wish we were there with all my heart; but, to do us honor, they have given us quarters at the 'Crocetto,' that dreary asylum for stray archdukes and vagabond grand-d.u.c.h.esses, in the farthest end of the city.

We are surrounded with chamberlains, aides-de-camp, and guards of honor.

The only thing they have forgotten is a cook. So I 'll come and dine here to-morrow."

"You do me great honor, my Lord. I 'm sure the Abbe D'Esmonde will favor us with his company also."

"If it be possible, I will," said the Abbe. "Nothing but necessity would make me relinquish so agreeable a prospect."

"Well, till our next meeting," said the Viscount, yawning, as he put on his hat "It's too late to expect Midchekoff here to-night, and so good-bye. The streets are clear by this time, I trust."

"A shrewd fellow, too," said Morlache, looking after him.

"No, Morlache, not a bit of it!" said D'Esmonde. "Such intellects bear about the same proportion to really clever men as a good swordsman does to a first-rate operator in surgery. They handle a coa.r.s.e weapon, and they deal with coa.r.s.e antagonists. Employ them in a subtle negotiation or a knotty problem, and you might as well ask a sergeant of the Blues to take up the femoral artery. Did you not remark awhile ago that, for the sake of a sneer, he actually betrayed a secret about Sir Stafford Onslow's will?"

"And you believe all that to be true?"

"Of course I do. The only question is whether the Irish property, which, if I remember aright, was settled on Lady Hester at her marriage, can be fettered by any of these conditions? That alone amounts to some thousands a year, and would be a most grateful accession to those much-despised brethren his Lords.h.i.+p alluded to."

"You can learn something about that point to-morrow, when he dines here."