Sant' Ilario Part 8

"Is he not beautiful?" exclaimed Corona, pa.s.sing her arm affectionately through her husband's, and leaning her cheek on his shoulder.

"He is a fine baby," replied Giovanni, his voice expressing more satisfaction than his words. "He will look like my father when he grows up."

"I would rather he should look like you," said Corona.

"If he could look like you, dear, there would be some use in wis.h.i.+ng."

Then they both gazed for some seconds at the swarthy little boy, who lay on his pillows, his arms thrown back above his head and his two little fists tightly clenched. The rich blood softly coloured the child's dark cheeks, and the black lashes, already long, like his mother's, gave a singularly expressive look to the small face.

Giovanni tenderly kissed his wife and then they softly left the room. As soon as they were outside Sant' Ilario's thoughts returned to Faustina.

"She was certainly not in the drawing-room," he said, "I am quite sure. It was her mother who asked for her and everybody heard the question. I dare not go back without her."

They stopped together in the corridor, looking at each other with grave faces.

"This is very serious," said Corona. "We must search the house.

Send the men. I will tell the women. We will meet at the head of the stairs."

Five minutes later, Giovanni returned in pursuit of his wife.

"She has left the house," he said, breathlessly. "The porter saw her go out."

"Good Heavens! Why did he not stop her?" cried Corona.

"Because he is a fool!" answered Sant' Ilario, very pale in his anxiety. "She must have lost her head and gone home. I will tell her mother."

When it was known in the drawing-room that Donna Faustina Montevarchi had left the palace alone and on foot every one was horrorstruck. The princess turned as white as death, though she was usually very red in the face. She was a brave woman, however, and did not waste words.

"I must go home at once," said she. "Please order my carriage and have the gates opened."

Giovanni obeyed silently, and a few minutes later the princess was descending the stairs, accompanied by Flavia, who was silent, a phenomenon seldom to be recorded in connection with that vivacious young lady. Giovanni went also, and his cousin, San Giacinto.

"If you will permit me, princess, I will go with you," said the latter as they all reached the carriage. "I may be of some use."

Just as they rolled out of the deep archway, the explosion of the barracks rent the air, the tremendous crash thundering and echoing through the city. The panes of the carriage-windows rattled as though they would break, and all Rome was silent while one might count a score. Then the horses plunged wildly in the traces and the vehicle struck heavily against one of the stone pillars which stood before the entrance of the palace. The four persons inside could hear the coachman shouting.

"Drive on!" cried San Giacinto, thrusting his head out of the window.

"Eccellenza--" began the man in a tone of expostulation.

"Drive on!" shouted San Giacinto, in a voice that made the fellow obey in spite of his terror. He had never heard such a voice before, so deep, so strong and so savage.

They reached the Palazzo Montevarchi without encountering any serious obstacle. In a few minutes they were convinced that Donna Faustina had not been heard of there, and a council was held upon the stairs. Whilst they were deliberating, Prince Montevarchi came out, and with him his eldest son, Bellegra, a handsome man about thirty years old, with blue eyes and a perfectly smooth fair beard. He was more calm than his father, who spoke excitedly, with many gesticulations.

"You have lost Faustina!" cried the old man in wild tones. "You have lost Faustina! And in such times as these! Why do you stand there? Oh, my daughter! my daughter! I have so often told you to be careful, Guendalina--move, in the name of G.o.d--the child is lost, lost, I tell you! Have you no heart? no feeling? Are you a mother? Signori miei, I am desperate!"

And indeed he seemed to be, as he stood wringing his hands, stamping his feet, and vociferating incoherently, while the tears began to flow down his cheeks.

"We are going in search of your daughter," said Sant' Ilario.

"Pray calm yourself. She will certainly be found."

"Perhaps I had better go too," suggested Ascanio Bellegra, rather timidly. But his father threw his arms round him and held him tightly.

"Do you think I will lose another child?" he cried. "No, no, no-- figlio mio--you shall never go out into the midst of a revolution."

Sant' Ilario looked on gravely, though he inwardly despised the poor old man for his weakness. San Giacinto stood against the wall, waiting, with, a grim smile of amus.e.m.e.nt on his face. He was measuring Ascanio Bellegra with his eye and thought he would not care for his a.s.sistance. The princess looked scornfully at her husband and son.

"We are losing time," said Sant' Ilario at last to his cousin. "I promise you to bring you your daughter," he added gravely, turning to the princess. Then the two went away together, leaving Prince Montevarchi still lamenting himself to his wife and son. Flavia had taken no part in the conversation, having entered the hall and gone to her room at once.

The cousins left the palace together and walked a little way down the street, before either spoke. Then Sant' Ilario stopped short.

"Does it strike you that we have undertaken rather a difficult mission?" he asked.

"A very difficult one," answered San Giacinto.

"Rome is not the largest city in the world, but I have not the slightest idea where to look for that child. She certainly left our house. She certainly has not returned to her own. Between the two, practically, there lies the whole of Rome. I think the best thing to do, will be to go to the police, if any of them can be found."

"Or to the Zouaves," said San Giacinto.

"Why to the Zouaves? I do not understand you."

"You are all so accustomed to being princes that you do not watch each, other. I have done nothing but watch, you all the time. That young lady is in love with Monsieur Gouache."

"Really!" exclaimed Sant' Ilario, to whom the idea was as novel and incredible as it could have been to old Montevarchi himself, "really, you must be mistaken. The thing is impossible."

"Not at all. That young man took Donna Faustina's hand and held it for some time there by the piano while I was shutting the windows in your drawing-room." San Giacinto did not tell all he had seen.

"What?" cried Sant' Ilario. "You are mad--it is impossible!"

"On the contrary, I saw it. A moment later Gouache left the room.

Donna Faustina must have gone just after him. It is my opinion that she followed him."

Before Sant' Ilario could answer, a small patrol of foot-gendarmes came up, and peremptorily ordered the two gentlemen to go home.

Sant' Ilario addressed the corporal in charge. He stated his name and that of his cousin.

"A lady has been lost," he then said. "She is Donna Faustina Montevarchi--a young lady, very fair and beautiful. She left the Palazzo Saracinesca alone and on foot half an hour ago and has not been heard of. Be good enough to inform the police you meet of this fact and to say that a large reward will be paid to any one who brings her to her father's house--to this palace here."

After a few more words the patrol pa.s.sed on, leaving the two cousins to their own devices. Sant' Ilario was utterly annoyed at the view just presented to him, and could not believe the thing true, though he had no other explanation to offer.

"It is of no use to stand here doing nothing," said San Giacinto rather impatiently. "There is another crowd coming, too, and we shall be delayed again. I think we had better separate. I will go one way, and you take the other."

"Where will you go?" asked Sant' Ilario. "You do not know your way about---"

"As she may be anywhere, we may find her anywhere, so that it is of no importance whether I know the names of the streets or not.

You had best think of all the houses to which she might have gone, among her friends. You know them better than I do. I will beat up all the streets between here and your house. When I am tired I will go to your palace."

"I am afraid you will not find her," replied Sant' Ilario. "But we must try for the sake of her poor mother."

"It is a question of luck," said the other, and they separated at once.