The Weird Of The Wentworths Volume Ii Part 17

"Ay, he is gone; wild and bad he was, yet he was a fine fellow. I have had my revenge. The last act remains only to be played out, but his murder must e'en be avenged," said old Bill, as he lifted the dead man's hand and let it fall nerveless again by his side. At that moment Pedro and a youth of eleven or twelve, though he looked much older, entered the chamber of death.

"How is Luigi? Where is our Captain?" asked Pedro.

"Luigi is where we shall all be one day, with the master he served!"

"Alas!" said Pedro, as he approached the bed on which all that was once his chief lay. "Alas! my brave Captain, my true friend, thou art laid low by a felon hand! Thou wert a true brigand,--a bold, fearless leader,--and what art thou now? inanimate clay--soulless dust! Farewell, Luigi, foreigner though thou wert,--the pride of the banditti, the terror of the Capitanata, the scourge of the Abruzzi! Thou art lost now; dull is the eagle eye--cold the impa.s.sioned cheek--nerveless the strong arm--still the high heart. Woe to us now! Who shall lead our bands? who shall think, plan, fight, and divide the prey? Woe to the hand that spilt thy blood! We have lost our head to-day; I have lost my friend--my boonfellow! Alas! woe is me!"

Tears stood in the robber's eyes, to whom the late Captain had been a guiding star and friend--even in crime there is a sort of false glory--even among robbers a sort of friends.h.i.+p!

The boy Giovanni, too, leaned over the death-bed.

"Alas! thou art low, high heart, brave soul! But, like the rays of the setting sun, a twilight glory lingers yet. Thy life is gone; not so thy example. The fiery soul lingers still. I feel it swell within me! Our Captain is gone. I will be leader now. I am young; but it was his will.

I am a boy in years--a man in soul. This sword," taking the late Captain's blade, "shall not lose its l.u.s.tre. Call our men in; let them own their chieftain."

Pedro blew a blast. Silently and sadly the whole band a.s.sembled. They filled the room; there were at least seventy bold spirits besides Bill, Giovanni, and Pedro; there was only one of the other s.e.x; she wept bitterly, as she pressed the cold hand of Luigi.

"Comrades," said Bill, "our gallant Captain is dead!" A groan of rage and sorrow arose from all. "He named Giovanni as his successor. He is a stripling--a youth in age; but he will make a worthy Captain. I will train him up. Will you acknowledge him? Let those who will hold up their swords."

An instant clash of steel took place; not a sword was lacking.

"Then swear allegiance by your swords; and let the spirit of the dead be witness!"

The oath was taken. A sullen silence reigned for an instant.

"Leonora," said old Bill, "come here."

The maiden came. He whispered something in her ear. She was about to depart when a noise was heard in the bed where the dead lay. Every eye turned towards the place. He had been now dead for half an hour at least, and a shudder thrilled every soul as they saw a faint movement take place on the lips of the dead. Then two long, harrowing shrieks of agony rose from the blue lips, and echoed with fearful tones through the cavern! There was not a faint heart there, nor a coward soul; yet when they heard that scream twice repeated from the lips of the corpse, not a heart but sunk, nor a cheek but paled! It was a cry as if a hundred demons seized on the departed, and he yelled as their fiendish grip encircled him!

Many of the bandits fled in dismay, and hurried in confusion from the inner cave to drown their terror in ardent spirits.

Old Bill alone approached the body, and pressed his hand on the death-cold brow. It was icy. He had been dead long ago!

"Perhaps," said Pedro, "the incarnate fiend has taken possession of the body. It were well to get priestly aid, and exorcise him to depart."

"Perhaps," said Bill, in Italian, "the devil has got into your own head.

Tut! it was but the air a rus.h.i.+ng from his body. I've heard the like before."

"They were the most awful sounds I ever heard. I shall never forget their terror," said Pedro, shaking his head.

"Thou art a superst.i.tious dog, and frightened by a sound. What if the carcase itself arose? Could not we fight it as well as a living man?"

"Old man, you believe in nothing, fear nothing! You English are afraid of neither spirit nor demon. I fear nothing mortal; but spirits from beyond the grave I do fear; and I care not to say so!"

"You had better drink another kind of spirit to drive such trash from your head," replied Bill, in English, as Pedro had used that tongue, thus giving force to the play on the word. "And, Pedro, see if Leonora be gone; and get a coffin to stow away our late Luigi in; and leave me here to lay out the corpse. I'se warrant not one of you cowardly dogs would lay claws on him now."

"Santa Maria! no! I am well pleased to be away."

Pedro, Giovanni, and the few remaining brigands then left the old man and the corpse together, and broached a cask of Falernian to drive away their terrors. In silver goblets they drank their late Captain's health; his quick delivery from purgatory; and vowed gold to purchase his redemption; as well as swore to avenge his death, if they got hold of the slayer; an important "if," for Adrian Vardarelli was esteemed a cunning man, who would not easily be taken.

CHAPTER XIV.

"His swarthy visage spake distress, But this might be from weariness; His garb with sanguine spots was dyed, But these might be from his courser's side; He drew the token from his vest * *

Me, not from mercy did they spare, But this empurpled pledge to bear!"--_Giaour._

The sun was setting on the Apennines, bathing them in purple, as the postilion bearing the fatal news of the tragedy of Val di Bovino neared the outskirts of Foggia.

Close to the road leading to Naples, the last of a row of villas, was the residence of the Earl of Wentworth. It was a small one compared to his villa at Naples; but sufficiently large to excite the attention of the traveller. Built on a gentle eminence, surrounded by orange groves bearing their golden burden, its front aspect faced the Apennines, embracing a fine view of the rich country around, as well as the immense _tavoliere_ of Apulia, the pasturage of numerous herds of cattle during the winter.

On the balcony looking down the high road sat the Countess, now more matured in age than when we last saw her. She was still extremely handsome, and, in the opinion of many, her ripened beauty exceeded her girlish charms. She was somewhat more inclined to _embonpoint_ than of old, but had worn remarkably well, and still possessed the same luxuriant quant.i.ty of hair, more richly brown than ever; the same winning, soft blue eye; the same clear complexion. Her countenance was saddened, but affliction had not soured; and when she smiled her smile was sweet as ever. Time had lightly laid his touch on her; she scarce looked five-and-twenty, though she was half a dozen years older at least.

A little distance from the Countess stood Lady Augusta, who was then past eleven. She was tall for her age, and built on a large scale; her eyes were her mother's, but her hair was very much fairer; her well-formed mouth betrayed the firmness of the De Veres. She was too young for us to judge of her character, or even what her appearance would yet be; but, if ever a mother's prayers and loving example are sure of a reward, doubtless Augusta would grow in beauty of mind and person all the Countess wished.

"Augusta, love, is there no sign yet of our guests? Look if you can see the carriage. They should have been here long ago."

"No, mamma dear, I see nothing. We shall hear the wheels first, for the orange-trees hide the turn in the road."

"No sign of Lennox yet?" said the Marquis, entering the verandah. "'Pon my word they are taking it easily."

"Indeed, I am beginning to feel nervous,--the roads are so unsafe. I wish they had started earlier," said the Countess.

"Pooh! you are always thinking of the brigands. I tell you Lennox wrote to say he would take guards."

"I know; but that Luigi is such a dreadful man! I quite dread going drives. And if he heard of my jewels coming,--he gets news of everything. I do hope nothing will happen."

"Never a fear. Young Lennox is a smart fellow. They will come all right.

They are armed, and the sbirri with them. Luigi knows too well to risk an attack."

"I hear the clatter of a horse, mamma," said Augusta. "Ah! see, here he comes. How he rides; and he is stopping at our gate."

"Oh! I hope there is nothing wrong. Do go and see, Arranmore. How my heart beats!"

Lord Arranmore, without waiting to be asked, had left the balcony, and at the porch learned the dreadful tidings from the postilion, who, almost dead with terror, crossing himself and calling every saint to his aid, by broken sentences told all, producing also the ensanguined scarf.

The Marquis ordered the servants to give him refreshment (but the poor man had little peace till he had told them the whole twenty times over, and each time a little more exaggerated than the last), and then returned to break the news to the Countess.

"Your fears are, alas! too true," he said. "Our friends have been attacked and fearfully murdered!"

"Merciful heavens!" exclaimed the Countess; "is this true?"

"Too true. The wretched postilion, who alone survived, told me all. Poor young Lennox attacked them boldly, but was soon overpowered; then poor Lennox! Faith! the tale is too shocking for your ears. Enough to say, he was murdered, and the heads of father and son stuck on poles! The worst part is, all your jewels are gone too!"

"Oh! Arranmore! do not say so! I would gladly have lost every trinket in the world to save one life. But, Caroline, poor girl, what has become of her?" said the Countess, whilst unfeigned tears of sorrow coursed her cheeks.

"Ah! poor girl! she was carried off by the ruffian Adrian Vardarelli.