Authors: George W. M. Reynolds,James Malcolm Rymer
LOMELLINO’S ESCAPE—STEPHANO’S
INTENTIONS
Stephano Verrina
was not the man to allow his
energies to be paralyzed by the reverse he had just sustained. He immediately
commanded a general muster of his men to be held in the banqueting-hall, that
he might accurately ascertain the loss his corps had sustained.
Giulia and Flora were left in the
treasure-chamber to snatch a few hours’ repose, if they could, as it was now
past two o’clock in the morning, and the marquis accompanied Stephano to the
banqueting-hall. Scarcely were the men mustered, when the usual signals
announcing the approach of a member of the band were heard, and in a few
moments Lomellino appeared amongst the troop.
All crowded round him to hear the
account which he had to give of his expedition and its failure.
His tale was soon told. It seemed
that on reaching what
might
be properly termed the main building of the convent, he found the greatest
alarm and confusion prevailing amongst the nuns, the shrieks of the abbess,
Sister Alba, and the penitents, and the alarm of the bell, having reached the
ears of the recluses. Their consternation was increased almost to madness when
they suddenly perceived several armed men emerging from the private staircase
leading to the subterranean department, and Lomellino found it impossible to
tranquilize them either by threats or fair speaking. A guard of sbirri must have
been passing at the time, for loud knocks resounded at the gate, which the old
portress immediately opened before Lomellino or any of his men could interfere
to prevent her. A number of police officers rushed in, and then commenced a
terrific combat between the banditti and the sbirri, the former of whom were
forced into an apartment, the door of which was originally locked, but was
burst open in the deadly struggle. There the strife was continued, when
suddenly the cry of “Fire” arose, and the flames, which had caught a bed in the
apartment, spread rapidly to the cumbrous and time-worn woodwork that supported
the ceiling. How the fire originated, Lomellino knew not, but as some of the
nuns carried lamps in their hands, and rushed wildly about in all directions in
their terror, it was not very difficult to hazard a conjecture as to the cause
of the conflagration. From that apartment, where the fire began, the flames
drove the combatants into an inner room, and there Lomellino saw his comrade
Piero hurled down some steep place, he himself being too sorely pressed by his
assailants to be able to repair to his assistance.
At length, seeing that all his
companions were slain, Lomellino had fought his way desperately through the
police-officers, and had succeeded in escaping from the convent, though closely
pursued by three of the sbirri. They were rapidly gaining upon him, when an
awful crash suddenly met their ears, as they were hurrying along the street
leading to the wood; and, looking back, Lomellino beheld a tremendous pillar of
flame shoot up from the place where the convent had stood, to the very sky,
rendering for the space of a minute everything as light as day around. The
building had fallen in, and Heaven only knows how many of the nuns and sbirri had
escaped, or how many had perished beneath the ruins! Those officers who were in
pursuit of Lomellino were so astounded by the sudden din and the column of
flame, that they remained rooted to the spot where they had turned to gaze on
the evidence of the catastrophe: and Lomellino had succeeded in effecting a
safe and unobserved return to the stronghold.
This account was particularly
welcome to the robbers, inasmuch as it convinced them that the sbirri had no
clew to the secret entrance of their stronghold, and that none of their band
had been captured in the conflict: for they would rather hear of the death of
their comrades than that they had been taken prisoners; because, were the
latter the case, the tortures of the rack or the exhortations of the priest
might elicit confessions hostile to the interests of the corps.
Stephano Verrina now proceeded to
count his men, who had
mustered
fifty strong previously to the expedition of that fatal night, which, it was
ascertained, had reduced the number to thirty-six—seven, including Piero,
having been slain by the sbirri, and as many having perished by the falling in
of the chamber of penitence.
The captain then addressed the
troop in the following manner:
“Worthy comrades,—our number is
sadly reduced; but regrets will not bring back those gallant fellows who are
gone. It, therefore, behooves us to attend to our own interests; and, for that
purpose, I demand your attention for a few minutes. In pursuance of the
resolution to which we came the night before last at the general council that
was held, the treasures and possessions amassed during many years of adventure
and peril have been fairly divided, and each man’s portion has been settled by
lot. The fourteen shares that revert to us by the death of our comrades shall
be equally subdivided to-morrow; and the superintendence of that duty, my
friends, will be the last act in my chieftainship. Yes, brave comrades,—I shall
then leave you, in accordance with the announcement I made the night before
last. It will grieve me to part with you; but you will choose another
captain——”
“Lomellino! Lomellino!” exclaimed
the banditti with one accord; “he shall succeed our gallant Verrina!”
“And you could not make a better
choice,” continued Stephano. “Lomellino——”
“Pardon me, captain,” interrupted
the individual thus alluded to: “but is not that little expedition to take
place on Monday, in case the lady requires it? We have received her gold as an
earnest——”
“And double that amount was
promised if the affair should turn out successful,” added Stephano. “But I have
reasons of my own, which you may perhaps understand, Lomellino, for desiring
that all idea of that business should be abandoned. And in order that the band
may not be losers by this change of intentions, I will give you from my own
share of our long accumulated treasures——”
“No! no!” cried the banditti,
enthusiastically; “we will not receive our gallant Stephano’s gold! Let him act
according to his own wishes!”
“I thank you, my friends, for
this generosity on your part,” said Stephano.
Their meeting then broke up; and
the robbers sat down to the banqueting table, to luxuriate in the rich wines
with which the stronghold was well stored.
The Marquis of Orsini was
compelled, through fear of giving offense, to share in the festival.
“This resolution to abandon the
command of your gallant band is somewhat sudden, meseems, Signor Stephano,” he
said: for not having been present at the council held two nights previously, he
was unaware of the captain’s intention until it was alluded to in that
individual’s speech on the present occasion.
“Yes, my lord,” was the reply;
“the resolution
is
sudden,
But,” he added, sinking his
voice to a whisper, “a certain little blind god is at the bottom of it.”
“Ah! signor, you are in love!”
said the marquis, laughing.
“And therefore, I mean to turn
honest man,” observed Verrina, also laughing. “In truth, I am not sorry to have
found a good excuse to quit a mode of life which the headsman yearns to cut
short. Not that I reck for peril; but, methinks, twenty years of danger and
adventure ought to be succeeded by a season of tranquillity.”
“Love has a marvelous influence
over you, Signor Verrina,” said the marquis; “for love alone could have
inspired such sentiments in
your
breast.”
“I am fain to confess that your
lordship is not far wrong,” returned the bandit. “I have discovered a woman who
is worthy of me—although she may not consider me to be altogether deserving of
her. But of that no matter; for I am not accustomed to consult the inclinations
of others, when mine own are concerned. And now a word in respect to yourself,
my lord. When do you propose to quit this place? for according to my promise,
you are now the master of your own actions.”
“The mysterious assault made upon
the convent—the destruction of the entire establishment—and the lives that have
been lost, will doubtless create a terrible sensation in Florence,” replied the
nobleman; “and should it transpire that I was in any way implicated——”
“That is impossible, my lord,”
interrupted Stephano. “These men whom you behold around you could alone betray
that secret; and you must have seen enough of them——”
“To know that they are stanch and
true,” added the marquis. “Yes, on reflection, I perceive that I have nothing
to fear; and therefore, with your leave, the countess, her young companion, and
myself will take our departure to-morrow.”
“In the evening, when it is
dusk,” said Stephano. “But your lordship will not remain in Florence?”
“The news which you brought me, a
few days ago, of the arrest of that poor Israelite on a ridiculous but most
monstrous charge, has affected me strangely,” observed Manuel; “and as it is in
my power to explain away that charge, I must tarry in Florence the necessary
time to accomplish this object. The Count of Arestino will imagine that his
wife has perished in the ruins of the convent; and hence her temporary
concealment in the city will be easily effected.”
“Well, my lord,” said Stephano,
“it is not for me to dictate nor to advise. But as I always entertain an esteem
for a man with whom I have measured weapons—and as I have somehow formed a
liking for your lordship—pardon my boldness—I should recommend you not to
remain in Florence on account of the Jew. The Lady Giulia might be discovered
by her husband, and you would lose her again. To tell your lordship the truth,”
he added, in a low and confidential tone, “a friend of mine, who commands a
trading vessel, sails in a few days from Leghorn for the Levant; and I intend
to be a passenger on board, in company with the sweet lady whom I have honored
with my
affections. What
says your lordship? will it suit you to embark in that vessel?”
“A thousand thanks, Signor
Verrina,” replied the marquis; “but I must remain at Florence to prove the
innocence of that poor, persecuted Jew.”
Stephano offered no further
remonstrance; and the conversation which ensued possessed not the least
interest for our readers.
On the following evening the
Marquis, Giulia, and Flora quitted the robbers’ stronghold—all three were
carefully blindfolded, and safely conducted amidst the dangers of the egress by
Stephano, Lomellino, and another bandit. When in the grove with which the
entrance of the stronghold communicated, the bandages were removed from their
eyes, and the two ladies, as well as the marquis, were once more enabled to
rejoice in their freedom.
According to a previous
arrangement between them, and in consequence of the intention of the marquis to
remain a few days in Florence, Giulia accompanied Flora to the dwelling of the
young maiden’s aunt, who was rejoiced to behold the reappearance of her niece,
and who willingly afforded an asylum to the countess.
The marquis, having conducted the
two ladies to the hospitable cottage of this good woman, returned to his own
dwelling, his protracted absence from which had caused serious apprehensions
amongst the few domestics whom his means permitted him to maintain. Ere we
conclude this chapter, we shall observe in a few words that the greatest
excitement prevailed in Florence relative to the attack on the convent and its
destruction. Many of the nuns had escaped from the building at the commencement
of the fire; and these took up their abode in another institution of the same
order. But the thrilling events which occurred in the chamber of penitence did
not transpire; nor was it ascertained who were the sacrilegious invaders of the
establishment, nor by what means they had obtained an entry.
It
was originally Stephano Verrina’s
intention to observe good faith with Nisida in respect to the service on which
she had intimated her desire to employ him and his band. But so dazzled was he
by her almost supernatural majesty of beauty on that night when he and his
companions encountered her in the Riverola palace, that he would have promised,
or indeed undertaken, anything calculated to please or benefit her.
When, however, he came to reflect
calmly upon the service in which Nisida had enlisted him, he began to suspect
that some motive more powerful than the mere desire to effect the liberation of
an innocent man influenced that lady. Had she not put to death a beautiful
creature who had resided in the same dwelling with Fernand Wagner? and did not
that deed bear upon its
aspect
the stamp of an Italian woman’s vengeance? Thus thought Stephano, and he soon
arrived at the very natural conclusion that Nisida loved Fernand Wagner. Wagner
was therefore his rival; and Verrina did not consider it at all in accordance
with his own particular views in respect to Nisida, to aid in effecting that rival’s
liberation, should he be condemned by the tribunal.
Again Stephano reflected that as
Wagner’s acquittal was within the range of probability, it would be expedient
to possess himself of Nisida
before
the trial took place;—and what
opportunity could be more favorable than the one which that lady herself
afforded by the appointment she had given him for the Sunday evening at the
gate of Saint Mary’s Cathedral?
All these considerations had
determined the bandit to adopt speedy and strenuous measures to possess himself
of Nisida, of whom he was so madly enamored that the hope of gratifying his
passion predominated even over the pride and delight he had hitherto
experienced in commanding the Florentine robbers.
The appointed evening came; and
Stephano, disguised in his black mask, repaired a few minutes before ten to the
immediate vicinity of the old cathedral. At the corner of an adjacent street,
two men, mounted on powerful horses, and holding a third steed by the bridle,
were in readiness; and, crouched in the black darkness formed by the shade of a
huge buttress of the cathedral, two members of the troop which Lomellino now
commanded lay concealed—for the new captain of banditti had lent some of his
stanchest followers to further the designs of the ex-chieftain.
A heavy rain had fallen in the
early part of the day; but it ceased ere the sun went down; and the stars shone
forth like beauty’s eyes when the tears of grief have been wiped away by the
lips of the lover.
Stephano paced the arena in front
of the sacred edifice; and at length a gentle tread and a rustling of velvet
met his ears. Then, in a few moments, as if emerging from the darkness, the
majestic form of Nisida appeared; and when Stephano approached her, she drew
aside her veil for an instant—only for a single instant, that he might convince
himself of her identity with the lady for whom he was waiting.
But as the light of the silver
stars beamed for a moment on the countenance of Nisida, that mild and placid
luster was out-vied by the dazzling brilliancy of her large black eyes: and
mental excitement had imparted a rich carnation hue to her cheek, rendering her
so surpassingly beautiful that Stephano could almost have fallen on his knees
to worship and adore her. But, oh! what lovely skins do some snakes wear!—and
into what charming shapes does satan often get!
Nisida had replaced her veil
while yet Verrina’s eyes were fixed on her bewitching countenance; then,
placing her finger lightly upon his arm—oh! how that gentle touch thrilled
through him!—she made a sign for him to follow her toward a niche in the deep
gateway of the cathedral: for in that niche was an image of the Madonna, and
before it burnt a lamp night
and
day. To gain that spot it was necessary to pass the buttress in whose shade the
two banditti lay concealed.
Stephano trembled as he followed
that lady whom he knew to be as intrepid, bold, and desperate as she was
beautiful:—he trembled, perhaps for the first time in his life, because never
until now had he felt himself overawed by the majesty of loveliness and the
resolute mind of a woman. But he had gone too far to retreat—even if that
temporary and almost unaccountable timidity had prompted him to abandon his
present design;—yes, he had gone too far—for at that moment when Nisida was passing
the huge buttress, the two brigands sprung forth: and though her hand instantly
grasped her dagger, yet so suddenly and effectually was she overpowered that
she had not even time to draw it from its sheath.
Fortunately for the scheme of
Stephano, the great square in front of the cathedral was at that moment
completely deserted by the usual evening loungers; and thus did he and his
companions experience not the slightest interruption as they bore Nisida firmly
and rapidly along to the corner of the street where the horses were in
attendance.
The lady’s hands were already
bound, and her dagger had been taken from her; and thus the resistance she was
enabled to make was very slight, when Stephano, having sprung upon one of the
horses, received the charming burden from the banditti, and embraced that fine
voluptuous form in his powerful arms.
The two men who had waited with
Stephano’s horse were already mounted on their own, as before stated, and the
little party was now in readiness to start.
“No further commands, signor?”
said one of the banditti who had first seized upon Nisida.
“None, my brave fellow. Tell
Lomellino that I sent him my best wishes for his prosperity. And now for a
rapid journey to Leghorn!”
“Good-night, signor.”
“Good-night. Farewell—farewell,
my friends!” cried Verrina; and clapping spurs to his steed, he struck into a
quick gallop, his two mounted companions keeping pace with him, and riding one
on either side, so as to prevent any possibility of escape on the part of Donna
Nisida of Riverola.
In a few minutes the little party
gained the bank of the Arno, along which they pursued their rapid way, lighted
by the lovely moon, which now broke forth from the purple sky, and seemed, with
its chaste beams playing on the surface of the water, to put a soul into the
very river as it ran!