The Pirate of the Mediterranean Part 30

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

Zappa had hitherto contrived to prevent the meeting of Ada and Nina, by compelling both of them to remain shut up in their respective parts of the castle. The cause of this conduct it is scarcely necessary to explain. His object was to keep Nina ignorant of the presence of her rival, and he also hoped to bend Ada's haughty spirit by the confinement to which she was subject. It could not, however, be supposed that Nina should not hear rumours of the presence of a stranger in the island, although Paolo had been careful not to hurt his sister's feelings needlessly, by speaking of her. Little Mila, the only personal attendant with whom she could converse, had been warned not to mention the arrival of Ada and her attendant; and for some time she kept the secret which was burning on her tongue; but as she suffered somewhat from that infirmity which is said, I suspect unjustly, to be peculiar to her s.e.x, she at last began to think that she had kept it long enough.

She did not, however, at once announce the information she had to communicate, but reserved to herself the pleasure of giving it out by driblets.

"We shall have the whole castle built up as it used to be, one of these days, I suspect, signora," she observed, as she was a.s.sisting Nina to dress. "It would be difficult, though, to arrange a more handsome room than this."

"No, Mila, scarcely could anything be more beautiful than this. But why should you say so?" asked Nina, whose suspicions had already been aroused by her attendant's previous remarks.

"Why, signora, I was comparing it with a room I have seen elsewhere, which is also very magnificent," returned Mila.

"You have seen! Why, you have never been off this island," exclaimed Nina.

"That is true, signora," said the Greek girl; "but the room I speak of is on the island, and I confess it is at no great distance from this tower."

"I was not aware that any other part of the castle was inhabited, except the tower and the house close to it," observed Nina.

"There you are mistaken, signora. The other old tower to the east of this, has had a room lately fitted up, very much like this, and there lives there a good-natured, lively girl, who tells me--for we manage to talk very well together--that she was born in an island like this, only larger. I like her very much, though she is not at all pretty; but she has a mistress, a young lady, who also lives in the tower, who is a complete angel--so fair, and kind, and beautiful, though she does not speak much, as she does not understand a word of Romaic; but I loved her the moment I saw her, and I am sure you would do so also, signora, were you to see her."

"A lady! young, and fair, and beautiful," repeated the Italian girl, a feeling gus.h.i.+ng into her bosom which was very far from being allied to love. "Who is she? how long has she been here? what is she like?"

"As to who she is, signora, all I know is, that they say she belongs to a people who have big s.h.i.+ps, and have never been slaves to the Turks; then she has been here ever since our chief came back; for he brought her in his vessel with Signor Paolo, your brother, who knows more about her than I do; and I suspect, loves her also not a little. And with regard to what she is like--she is not so tall as you are, signora; but her skin is as clear as yours, and fair as the foam blown across the ocean in a winter's storm, with some of the hue stolen from the rose on her cheeks; and her eyes--so soft they are, and of the same tint as the brightest spot in the cloudless sky above our heads."

How long little Mila, having now ventured once to let her tongue run loose on the forbidden subject, would have continued recapitulating the praises of the stranger lady--little dreaming of the wounds she was inflicting on the feelings of her older friend and mistress--it is impossible to say, had not Nina interrupted her.

"I must go and see this stranger lady!" she exclaimed, in a tone which startled the little girl, and taught her that it would have been wiser to have obeyed orders, and not mentioned her. "Come, Mila, we will go at once, and you shall run up into her room, and announce me."

"Oh, dear! signora, that will never do," answered the Greek girl. "You forget that the directions of our chief forbid you to quit your tower; and what would he say, were he to hear that you had visited that of the stranger lady. He is certain to come back, and find you there."

Nina had, however, so determined to satisfy her jealous suspicions, that she overruled all Mila's scruples.

"If I find them fatally true, a speedy death will be my only resource, or, ah! that of my rival;" so ran the current of her thoughts. "I could not let her live in the triumphant enjoyment of what I had lost--his love. I could not bear to think that other ears but mine own hear the tender accents of his voice, which speaks so eloquently to me of love.

'Twould be madness to know that I were flung aside for one more young and beautiful, perchance, but one who could not feel for him one tenth part of the intense love I bear him. I must go and see her. If she is--oh! G.o.d, what?" And her hand touched, unconsciously, the hilt of a small dagger she wore in her girdle.

Ada Garden was sitting in her chamber when little Mila hurried into her presence, and intimated, as well as she could, that a lady desired to see her, flying out at the same speed with which she entered.

As it happened, Ada did not, in the least, understand what she meant, and supposing it was a matter of no importance, continued the perusal of a work she held in her hand. She was startled by hearing a deep sigh, and looking up, she saw a graceful female figure standing at the other end of the room, with her eyes fixed intently on her. For the first moment, the idea glanced across her mind, that her senses must have deceived her, so statue-like was the form--so rigid was the gaze; but a few seconds served to a.s.sure her that a human being was in her presence.

Her own look, as she lifted up her eyes, betokened surprise, though not alarm, and there was that sweet and tranquil expression, that purity, the consciousness of innocence, in her countenance, which the beautiful Italian--for she was the intruder--interpreted aright. Nina did not utter a word for some moments; but with the pa.s.sionate impulse which had, unhappily, too often guided her, she advanced towards her supposed rival, and knelt down before her, bending her head to the ground. She soon looked up, and gazed in her countenance with an expression of earnest inquiry, as if she would read her thoughts.

"Lady," she at length exclaimed, "I have wronged you--I feel--I know-- you cannot be the base, the cruel being I have believed you. You would not seek to estrange the affections of a husband from one who lives for him alone. Say you do not love Argiri Caramitzo, the chief of this island--you do not wish to win his love."

Astonishment prevented Ada from answering this extraordinary address, and she hesitated, while she considered in what terms she should speak, so that she might quickly tranquillise the agitated feelings of her visitor, and, at the same time, avoid wounding them.

Nina seemed to mistake her silence for an acknowledgment of guilt, for she sprang to her feet, and her dagger-blade flashed in her hand. In another moment, it would have been stained with blood, had not Ada exclaimed--

"Indeed you do me wrong, signora. I would not rob you of your husband's love, for all the world can give. I am not mistaken in supposing you to be the sister of Signor Paolo Montifalcone; and if so, I already know your history, and, far from seeking to injure you, would do all in my power to preserve you from harm."

"You can but injure me in one way, and that you might do unknowingly and unwillingly," exclaimed the Italian, still regarding her with a glance of distrust; while she clutched the weapon in her right hand, which hung down by her side, the other being stretched out before her, as if to prevent her supposed rival from approaching her.

Ada felt an unusual courage come to her aid. She neither trembled nor turned pale, nor did she show any attempt to defend herself from Nina's mistaken vengeance; but she lifted her mild blue eyes, full of commiseration, towards the now flas.h.i.+ng orbs of the Italian, and, in a sweet, calm voice, she said--

"There is a Power above, which, if we seek, will arm us both--you against such vain fears, me against the guilt, unknowing though it may be, of winning affections which should be your alone."

A fresh impulse seized the unhappy Nina; flinging away her weapon, she rushed forward, and throwing herself on her knees, clasped Ada's hand and covered it with kisses.

"I have not the heart to injure you, though you should prove my destruction," she exclaimed. "But you will not allow him to pour the words of tender endearment into those ears; nay, if he does but think or utter one word of love, remember, the time has come to act for your own safety. Here, take this weapon, and promise me to employ it, should the necessity arrive, for should you fail to do so, neither your beauty, nor his s.h.i.+elding arm could save you from the maddened impulse of my hand-- the last dying effort of my strength."

As she spoke, she rose, and lifting her dagger from the ground, she returned with it towards Ada.

"Nay, fear not, lady," she said, as she saw Ada start. "It is harmless now. Take the dagger, and keep it as remembrance of the unhappy Nina Montifalcone."

Nina presented the weapon, as she said this, with the hilt towards Ada, who considered it would be more politic to accept the gift, though, indeed, she shuddered as she did so; but she felt that she might herself unhappily be driven to the dire necessity of employing it. She took it, therefore, and placed it on the table by her. She then raised the excited and unhappy girl, who had again sunk on her knees, and placed her on a seat by her side, when, after some time, she succeeded, by slow degrees, in completely tranquillising and re-a.s.suring her mind.

"You are no stranger to me, Nina," said Ada Garden, affectionately holding her hand. "Your brother has told me the whole of your history, and his own unhappy fate. His devotion to you seems unparalleled. Do you feel that you give it a just return?"

"Alas! no," answered Nina. "He has, I fear, sacrificed himself to me from that dreadful night when I left my native home, confused, bewildered, and little dreaming that it was to be for ever. But I do not detain him; if he wishes to return he may do so."

"He came with you, and without you he will not go back," observed Ada.

"While my father lived, I would have returned to see him, at the risk of my life--at the risk of the displeasure of one dearer than life; but now that he is no more, no earthly power should make me quit my husband."

"But your brother has doubts of the truth of the report of your father's death, and would still induce you to accompany him," said Ada.

"What! and allow you to remain?" whispered Nina, her fears, in a moment, rus.h.i.+ng back to the baneful course from which they had been diverted.

"No, lady, that were folly too great even for me to commit."

Ada saw that she was touching on dangerous ground.

"Indeed, again you wrong me, Nina," she said, tenderly pressing her hand. "I did not believe my intentions could be so misconstrued; but I will not mention a subject which is so painful to you."

"There are few which are not, lady," returned Nina, again appeased; "for the very language we speak reminds me of the home I have lost, the misery I have caused--it reminds me that I may be stigmatised as a murderess; that the death of the best, the kindest of fathers, may be laid to my charge; and often would such thoughts drive me to madness, and to seek a speedy end to all my misery from the summit of yonder cliff; but for what I have lost, I have gained a prize which recompenses me for all--the love of one without which death would have been welcome; a love I value more than all the earth's brightest treasure. They say the maidens in your country are calm and cold as the snow on the Appenines, and it were in vain, therefore, for you, lady, to attempt to conceive what that love is. He might abandon me--he might forget me--he might spurn me, but still I should love him, though I slew him for his perfidy; and should die happily on the tomb to which I had consigned him. Then do not speak to me again of quitting him;--he is my world, and all else I have abandoned for him."

Ada, after this, did not again attempt to renew the subject--indeed, pirate though he was, Zappa, she remembered, was, there existed every reason to believe, the young Italian's husband; and though utterly unworthy of her devoted affection, as she had herself too strong a proof to doubt, Nina still owed to him the duty of a wife. She had severed other sacred ties, in a way they can never be severed without ultimately bringing grief and remorse to the heart of the guilty one; but she now must abide by the consequences of her fault, and had no power to quit him to whom she had bound herself, even to visit the deathbed of a father. It was painful, however, to Ada, to reflect what must be the ultimate fate of her lovely and interesting companion, when the pirate's already waning love was burnt out--when the cast on which she had staked her all on earth was lost for ever; or, should the lawless adventurer meet the fate his daring expeditions seemed to court, and when death should claim his own, she should learn that he whom she had so truly loved was a murderer, and a robber, and had died the death of a malefactor, what anguish, what shame, was in store for her--what a dreary future.

The two girls, both equally beautiful in their separate styles, sat together, without speaking, for some time, lost in their own reflections. Both were sad--for one was a prisoner, without a prospect of release: to the mind of the other, a picture of the home of her youth, and her deserted, dying father, had been conjured up with the vividness with which they had never before presented themselves, and some pangs of remorse were agitating her mind. They were startled by a loud peal of thunder, which reverberated through the sky, and looking out through the cas.e.m.e.nt they beheld the whole air of heaven covered with dark rolling clouds, and the sea a ma.s.s of white foam, which a blast, like a whirlwind, blew furiously over the surface; while the sullen roar of the lately aroused waves was heard as they lashed the rocks beneath the cliffs. One of those sudden tempests had arisen, which at times visit the sh.o.r.es of the Mediterranean with peculiar fury; their anger, like the rage of a human being, though short, yet causing havoc and destruction wherever it falls. The wind, as it increased, howled and whistled through the ruined building; the lightning darted, with vivid flashes, from the lowering sky; and the waves, worked into fury, rose every instant higher and higher, till they appeared like the water of a boiling cauldron, as their white-headed crests leaped up towards the tower, which they seemed to shake to the very base.

Marianna, followed by little Mila, rushed into the room, shrieking with alarm; crying out that the building was going to fall about their heads; at the same time, the rain descended so furiously, that they were afraid to venture into the open air.

"Oh! signora, we are all going to be washed into the sea, and we shall never more be heard of; oh! Santa Maria, have mercy on us," cried the Maltese, rus.h.i.+ng up to Ada, and crouching down by her side.

The Greek girl was not so much alarmed, as she had witnessed similar tempests before, and knew how speedily they terminated; so also had Nina, who gazed at it devoid of all fear; and whose agitated state of mind it seemed rather to allay than increase.

"Do not be alarmed, lady," she said, smiling, as she turned to Ada.

"You may also quiet the fears of your attendant, for the masonry with which we are surrounded has already stood firm for several hundred years through many a fiercer storm than this; and the shocks we now feel are not likely to shatter these old towers. They are caused by the waves das.h.i.+ng under the caverned rocks beneath our feet. How furiously the waters rage and foam at the opposition this little island makes against them. It was during a storm like this that Argiri Caramitzo was first brought to my father's castle. Heaven grant that he may not have been tempted out on the sea this morning. Mila, do you know if your chief left the harbour since I came here?"

The latter sentence she spoke in her broken Romaic, and in a tone which showed her agitation.

"Yes, lady," answered the Greek girl, "He went on board one of the misticos as soon as he reached the harbour, and immediately set sail."

"Great heaven, and is even now on yon troubled waters," exclaimed the poor girl almost fainting with agitation. "And I am here, nor even till this instant thought of him. Cannot we send out the other mistico to a.s.sist him. Surely some of his brave followers will be found ready to search for him. I myself will accompany them."