The Bramleighs of Bishop's Folly Part 77

"To be almost on fighting terms with a man ten minutes ago, and to accept his invitation to dinner now, seemed to me one of those things perfectly beyond human accomplishment; but the way in which he tendered the invitation, and the altered tone he imparted to his manner, made me feel that not to imitate him was to stamp myself forever as one of those vulgar dogs whom he had just been ridiculing, and I a.s.sented.

"I have a perfect recollection of a superb dinner; but beyond that, and that the champagne was decanted, and that there was a large cheese stuffed with truffles, and that there were ortolans in ice, I know nothing. It was one of the pleasantest evenings I ever pa.s.sed in my life. I sang several songs, and might have sung more if a message had not come from my Lady to beg that the piano might be stopped,--an intimation which closed the _seance_; and I said good-night. The next morning Temple called to say my Lord was too much engaged to be able to receive me again; and as to that little matter I had mentioned, he had an arrangement to propose which might be satisfactory. And whether it was that my faculties were not the clearer for my previous night's convivialities, or that Temple's explanations were of the most muddled description, or that the n.o.ble lord had purposely given him a tangled skein to unravel, I don't know; but all I could make out of the proposed arrangement was that he would n't give any money back,--no, not on any terms: to do so would be something so derogatory to himself, to his rank, to his position in diplomacy, it would amount to a self-accusation of fraud; what would be thought of him by his brother peers, by society, by the world, and by The Office?

"He had, however, the alternate presentation to the living of Oxington in Herts. It was two hundred and forty pounds per annum and a house,--in fact, 'a provision more than ample,' he said, 'for any man not utterly a worldling.' He was not sure whether the next appointment lay with himself or a certain Sir Marcus Cluff,--a retired fishmonger, he thought,--then living at Rome; but as well as I could make out, if it was Lord Culduff's turn he would appoint L'Estrange, and if it was Cluff's we were to cajole, or to bully, or to persuade him out of it; and L'Estrange was to be inducted as soon as the present inc.u.mbent, who only wanted a few months of ninety, was promoted to a better place. This may all seem very confused, dim, and unintelligible, but it is a plain ungarbled statement in comparison with what I received from Temple, who, to do him justice, felt all the awkwardness of being sent out to do something he did n't understand by means that he never possessed. He handed me, however, a letter for Cluff from the n.o.ble Viscount, which I was to deliver at once; and, in fact, this much was intelligible, that the sooner I took myself away from Naples, in any direction I liked best, the better. There are times when it is as well not to show that you see the enemy is cheating you, when the shrewdest policy is to let him deem you a dupe and wait patiently till he has compromised himself beyond recall. In this sense I agreed to be the bearer of the letter, and started the same night for Rome.

"Cluff was installed at the same hotel where I was stopping, and I saw him the next morning. He was a poor broken-down creature, sitting in a room saturated with some peculiar vapor which seemed to agree with him, but half suffocated me. The Viscount's letter, however, very nearly put us on a level, for it took his breath away, and all but finished him.

"'Do you know, sir,' said he, 'that Lord Culduff talks here of a t.i.tle to a presentation that I bought with the estate thirty years ago, and that he has no more right in the matter than he has to the manor-house.

The vicarage is my sole gift, and though the present inc.u.mbent is but two-and-thirty, he means to resign and go out to New Zealand.' He maundered on about Lord Culduff's inexplicable blunder; what course he ought to adopt towards him; if it were actionable, or if a simple apology would be the best solution, and at last said, 'There was no one for whom he had a higher esteem than Mr. L'Estrange, and that if I would give him his address he would like to communicate with him personally in the matter.' This looked at least favorable, and I gave it with great willingness; but I am free to own I have become now so accustomed to be jockeyed at every step I go, that I would n't trust the Pope himself, if he promised me anything beyond his blessing.

"I saw Cluff again to-day, and he said he had half-written his letter to L'Estrange; but being his postfumigation day, when his doctor enjoined complete repose, he could not complete or post the doc.u.ment till Sat.u.r.day. I have thought it best, however, to apprise you, and L'Estrange through you, that such a letter is on its way to Cattaro, and, I trust, with satisfactory intelligence. And now that I must bring this long narrative to an end, I scarcely know whether I shall repeat a scandal you may have heard already, or, more probably still, not like to hear now; but it is the town-talk here,--that Pracontal, or Count Bram-leigh--I don't know which name he is best known by--is to marry Lady Augusta. Some say that the marriage will depend on the verdict of the trial being in his favor; others declare that she has accepted him unconditionally. I was not disposed to believe the story, but Cluff a.s.sures me that it is unquestionable, and that he knows a lady to whom Lady Augusta confided this determination. And, as Cluff says, such an opportunity of shocking the world will not occur every day, and it cannot be expected she could resist the temptation.

"I am going back to England at once, and I enclose you my town address in case you want me: '4, Joy Court, Cannon Street' The Culduff mining scheme is now wound up, and the shareholders have signed a consent.

Their first dividend of fourpence will be paid in January, future payment will be announced by notice. Tell L'Estrange, however, not to 'come in,' but to wait.

"If I can be of service in any way, make use of me, and if I cannot, don't forget me, but think of me as, what I once overheard L'Estrange's sister call me,--a well-meaning sn.o.b, and very faithfully yours,

"T. Cutbill."

CHAPTER LII. ISCHIA.

The sun had just sunk below the horizon, and a blaze of blended crimson and gold spread over the Bay of Naples, coloring the rocky island of Ischia till it glowed like a carbuncle. Gradually, however, the rich warm tints began to fade away from the base of the mountains, and a cold blue color stole slowly up their sides, peak after peak surrendering their gorgeous panoply, till at length the whole island a.s.sumed a tinge blue as the sea it stood in.

But for the memory of the former glory it would have been difficult to imagine a more beautiful picture. Every cliff and jutting promontory tufted with wild olives and myrtle was reflected in the waveless sea below; and feathery palm-trees and broad-leaved figs trembled in the water, as that gentle wash eddied softly round the rocks, or played on the golden sh.o.r.e.

It was essentially the hour of peace and repose. Along the sh.o.r.es of the bay, in every little village, the angelus was ringing, and kneeling groups were bowed in prayer; and even here, on this rocky islet, where crime and wretchedness were sent to expiate by years of misery their sins against their fellow-men, the poor galley-slaves caught one instant of kindred with the world, and were suffered to taste in peace the beauty of the hour. There they were in little knots and groups--some lying listlessly in the deep gra.s.s; some gathered on a little rocky point, watching the fish as they darted to and fro in the limpid water, and doubtless envying their glorious freedom: and others, again, seated under some spreading tree, and seeming, at least, to feel the calm influence of the hour.

The soldiers who formed their guard had piled their arms, leaving here and there merely a sentinel, and had gone down amongst the rocks, to search for limpets, or those rugged "ricci di mare" which humble palates accept as delicacies. A few, too, dashed in for a swim, and their joyous voices and merry laughter were heard amid the plash of the water they disported in.

In a small cleft of a rock overshadowed by an old ilex-tree two men sat moodily gazing on the sea. In dress they were indeed alike, for both wore that terrible red and yellow livery that marks a life-long condemnation, and each carried the heavy chain of the same terrible sentence. They were linked together at the ankle, and thus, for convenience' sake, they sat shoulder to shoulder. One was a thin, spare, but still wiry-looking man, evidently far advanced in life, but with a vigor in his look and a quick intelligence in his eye that showed what energy he must have possessed in youth. He had spent years at the galleys, but neither time nor the degradation of his a.s.sociations had completely eradicated the traces of something above the common in his appearance; for No. 97--he had no other name as a prisoner--had been condemned for his share in a plot against the life of the king; three of his a.s.sociates having been beheaded for their greater criminality.

What station he might originally have belonged to was no longer easy to determine; but there were yet some signs that indicated that he had been at least in the middle rank of life. His companion was unlike him in every way. He was a young man with fresh complexion and large blue eyes, the very type of frankness and good-nature. Not even prison diet and discipline had yet hollowed his cheek, though it was easy to see that unaccustomed labor and distasteful food were beginning to tell upon his strength, and the bitter smile with which he was gazing on his lank figure and wasted hands showed the weary misery that was consuming him.

"Well, old Nick," said the young man at length, "this is to be our last evening together; and if ever I should touch land again, is there any way I could help you--is there anything I could do for you?"

"So then you're determined to try it?" said the other, in a low growling tone.

"That I am. I have not spent weeks filing through that confounded chain for nothing: one wrench now and it's smashed."

"And then?" asked the old man with a grin.

"And then I'll have a swim for it. I know all that--I know it all,"

said he, answering a gesture of the other's hand; "but do you think I care to drag out such a life as this?"

"_I_ do," was the quiet reply.

"Then why you do is clear and clean beyond me. To me it is worse than fifty deaths."

"Look here, lad," said the old man, with a degree of animation he had not shown before. "There are four hundred and eighty of us here: some for ten, some for twenty years, some for life; except yourself alone there is not one has the faintest chance of a pardon. You are English, and your nation takes trouble about its people, and, right or wrong, in the end gets them favorable treatment, and yet you are the only man here would put his life in jeopardy on so poor a chance."

"I 'll try it, for all that."

"Did you ever hear of a man that escaped by swimming?"

"If they did n't it was their own fault--at least, they gave themselves no fair chance: they always made for the sh.o.r.e, and generally the nearest sh.o.r.e, and of course they were followed and taken. I'll strike out for the open sea, and when I have cut the cork floats off a fis.h.i.+ng-net, I'll be able to float for hours, if I should tire swimming.

Once in the open, it will be hard luck if some coasting vessel, some steamer to Palermo or Messina, should not pick me up. Besides, there are numbers of fis.h.i.+ng-boats--"

"Any one of which would be right glad to make five ducats by bringing you safe back to the police."

"I don't believe it--I don't believe there is that much baseness in a human heart."

"Take my word for it, there are depths a good deal below even that,"

said the old man, with a harsh grating laugh.

"No matter, come what will of it, I'll make the venture; and now, as our time is growing short, tell me if there is anything I can do for you, if I live to get free again. Have you any friends who could help you? or is there any one to whom you would wish me to go on your behalf?"

"None--none," said he, slowly but calmly.

"As yours was a political crime--"

"I have done all of them, and if my life were to be drawn out for eighty years longer it would not suffice for all the sentences against me."

"Still I 'd not despair of doing something--"

"Look here, lad," said the other, sharply; "it is my will that all who belong to me should believe me dead. I was s.h.i.+pwrecked twelve years ago, and reported to have gone down with all the crew. My son--"

"Have you a son, then?"

"My son inherits rights that, stained as I am by crime and condemnation, I never could have maintained. Whether he shall make them good or not will depend on whether he has more or less of _my_ blood in his veins. It may be, however, he will want money to prosecute his claim. I have none to send him, but I could tell him where he is almost certain to find not only money, but what will serve him more than money, if you could make him out. I have written some of the names he is known by on this paper, and he can be traced through Bolton, the banker at Naples. Tell him to seek out all the places old Giacomo Lami worked at.

He never painted his daughter Enrichetta in a fresco, that he didn't hide gold, or jewels, or papers of value somewhere near. Tell him, above all, to find out where Giacomo's last work was executed. You can say that you got this commission from me years ago in Monte Video; and when you tell him it was Niccolo Balda.s.sare gave it, he'll believe you.

There. I have written Giacomo Lami on that paper, so that you need not trust to your memory. But why do I waste time with these things? You'll never set foot on sh.o.r.e, lad--never."

"I am just as certain that I shall. If that son of yours was only as certain of winning his estate, I'd call him a lucky fellow. But see, they are almost dressed. They 'll be soon ready to march us home. Rest your foot next this rock till I smash the link, and when you see them coming roll this heavy stone down into the sea. I 'll make for the south side of the island, and, once night falls, take to the water. Good-bye, old fellow. I 'll not forget you--never, never," and he wrung the old man's hand in a strong grasp. The chain gave way at the second blow, and he was gone.

Just as the last flickering light was fading from the sky, three cannon shots, in quick succession, announced that a prisoner had made his escape, and patrols issued forth in every direction to scour the island, while boats were manned to search the caves and creva.s.ses along the sh.o.r.e.

The morning's telegram to the Minister of Police ran thus: "No. 11 made his escape last evening, filing his ankle-iron. The prisoner, 97, to whom he was linked, declares that he saw him leap into the sea and sink.

This statement is not believed; but up to this, no trace of the missing man has been discovered."

In the afternoon of the same day, Temple Bramleigh learned the news, and hastened home to the hotel to inform his chief. Lord Culduff was not in the best of tempers. Some independent member below the gangway had given notice of a question he intended to ask the Secretary for Foreign Affairs, and the leader of a Radical morning paper had thus paraphrased the inquiry: "What Mr. Bech.e.l.l wishes to ascertain, in fact, amounts to this,--'Could not the case of Samuel Rogers have been treated by our resident envoy at Naples, or was it necessary that the dignity and honor of England should be maintained by an essenced old fop, whose social successes--and we never heard that he had any other--date from the early days of the Regency?'"

Lord Culduff was pacing his room angrily when Temple entered, and, although nothing would have induced him to show the insolent paragraph of the paper, he burst out into a violent abuse of those meddlesome Radicals, whose whole mission in life was to a.s.sail men of family and station.

"In the famous revolution of France, sir," cried he, "they did their work with the guillotine; but our cowardly canaille never rise above defamation. You must write to the papers about this, Temple. You must expose this system of social a.s.sa.s.sination, or the day will come, if it has not already come, when gentlemen of birth and blood will refuse to serve the Crown."

"I came back to tell you that our man has made his escape," said Temple, half trembling at daring to interrupt this flow of indignation.