Saracinesca Part 44

"The next day!" she exclaimed, with a happy laugh. "Do you think I am going to stay--"

"For ever," interrupted Giovanni. "We have a priest here, you know,--he can marry us to-morrow, and then you need never go away."

Corona's face grew grave.

"We must not talk of that yet," she said, gently, "even in jest."

"No; you are right. Forgive me," he answered; "I forget many things--it seems to me I have forgotten everything, except that I love you."

"Giovanni,"--she lingered on the name,--"Giovanni, we must tell your father at once."

"Are you willing I should?" he asked, eagerly.

"Of course--he ought to know; and Sister Gabrielle too. But no one else must be told. There must be no talk of this in Rome until--until next year."

"We will stay in the country until then, shall we not?" asked Giovanni, anxiously. "It seems to me so much better. We can meet here, and n.o.body will talk. I will go and live in the town at Astrardente, and play the engineer, and build your roads for you."

"I hardly know," said Corona, with a doubtful smile. "You could not do that. But you may come and spend the day once--in a week, perhaps."

"We will arrange all that," answered Giovanni, laughing. "If you think I can exist by only seeing you once a week--well, you do not know me."

"We shall see," returned Corona, laughing too. "By the bye, how long have we been here?"

"I do not know," said Giovanni; "but the view is magnificent, is it not?"

"Enchanting," she replied, looking into his eyes. Then suddenly the blood mounted to her cheeks. "Oh, Giovanni," she said, "how could I do it?"

"I should have died if you had not," he answered, and clasped her once more in his arms.

"Come," said she, "let us be going down. It is growing late."

When they reached the foot of the tower, they found the Prince walking the rampart alone. Sister Gabrielle was afraid of the evening air, and had retired into the house. Old Saracinesca faced them suddenly. He looked like an old lion, his thick white hair and beard bristling about his dark features.

"My father," said Giovanni, coming forward, "the d.u.c.h.essa d'Astrardente has consented to be my wife. I crave your blessing."

The old man started, and then stood stock-still. His son had fairly taken his breath away, for he had not expected the news for three or four months to come. Then he advanced and took Corona's hand, and kissed it.

"Madam," he said, "you have done my son an honour which extends to myself and to every Saracinesca, dead, living, and to come."

Then he laid Corona's hand in Giovanni's, and held his own upon them both.

"G.o.d bless you," he said, solemnly; and as Corona bent her proud head, he touched her forehead with his lips. Then he embraced Giovanni, and his joy broke out in wild enthusiasm.

"Ha, my children," he cried, "there has not been such a couple as you are for generations--there has not been such good news told in these old walls since they have stood here. We will illuminate the castle, the whole town, in your honour--we will ring the bells and have a Te Deum sung--we will have such a festival as was never seen before--we will go to Rome to-morrow and celebrate the espousal--we will--"

"Softly, _padre mio_," interrupted Giovanni. "No one must know as yet.

You must consider--"

"Consider what? consider the marriage? Of course we will consider it, as soon as you please. You shall have such a wedding as was never heard of-- you shall be married by the Cardinal Archpriest of Saint Peter's, by the Holy Father himself. The whole country shall ring with it."

It was with difficulty Giovanni succeeded in calming his father's excitement, and in recalling to his mind the circ.u.mstances which made it necessary to conceal the engagement for the present. But at last the old man reluctantly consented, and returned to a quieter humour. For some time the three continued to pace the stone rampart.

"This is a case of arrant cruelty to a man of my temper," said the Prince. "To be expected to behave like an ordinary creature, with grins and smiles and decent paces, when I have just heard what I have longed to hear for years. But I will revenge myself by making a noise about it by-and-by. I will concoct schemes for your wedding, and dream of nothing but illuminations and decorations. You shall be Prince of Sant'

Ilario, Giovanni, as I was before my father died; and I will give you that estate outright, and the palace in the Corso to live in."

"Perhaps we might live in my palace," suggested Corona. It seemed strange to her to be discussing her own marriage, but it was necessary to humour the old Prince. "Of course," he said. "I forgot all about it. You have places enough to live in. One forgets that you will in the end be the richest couple in Italy. Ha!" he cried, in sudden enthusiasm, "the Saracinesca are not dead yet! They are greater than ever--and our lands here so near together, too. We will build a new road to Astrardente, and when you are married you shall be the first to drive over it from Astrardente here. We will do all kinds of things--we will tunnel the mountain!"

"I am sure you will do that in the end," said Giovanni, laughing.

"Well--let us go to dinner," answered his father. "It has grown quite dark since we have been talking, and we shall be falling over the edge if we are not careful."

"I will go and tell Sister Gabrielle before dinner," said Corona to Giovanni.

So they left her at the door of her apartment, and she went in. She found the Sister in an inner room, with a book of devotions in her hand.

"Pray for me, my Sister," she said, quietly. "I have resolved upon a great step. I am going to be married again."

Sister Gabrielle looked up, and a quiet smile stole over her thin face.

"It is soon, my friend," she said. "It is soon to think of that. But perhaps you are right--is it the young Prince?"

"Yes," answered Corona, and sank into a deep tapestried chair. "It is soon I know well. But it has been long--have struggled hard--I love him very much--so much, you do not know!"

The Sister sighed faintly, and came and took her hand.

"It is right that you should marry," she said, gently. "You are too young, too famously beautiful, too richly endowed, to lead the life you have led at Astrardente these many months."

"It is not that," said Corona, an expression of strange beauty illuminating her lovely face. "Not that I am young, beautiful as you say, if it is so, or endowed with riches--those reasons are nothing. It is this that tells me," she whispered, pressing her left hand to her heart.

"When one loves as I love, it is right."

"Indeed it is," a.s.sented the good Sister. "And I think you have chosen wisely. When will you be married?"

"Hardly before next summer--I can hardly think connectedly yet--it has been very sudden. I knew I should marry him in the end, but I never thought I could consent so soon. Oh, Sister Gabrielle, you are so good--were you never in love?"

The Sister was silent, and looked away.

"No--of course you cannot tell me," continued Corona; "but it is such a wonderful thing. It makes days seem like hundreds of years, or makes them pa.s.s in a flash of light, in a second. It oversets every idea of time, and plays with one's resolutions as the wind with a feather. If once it gets the mastery of one, it crowds a lifetime of pain and pleasure into one day; it never leaves one for a moment. I cannot explain love--it is a wonderful thing."

"My dear friend," said the Sister, "the explanation of love is life."

"But the end of it is not death. It cannot be," continued Corona, earnestly. "It must last for ever and ever. It must grow better and purer and stronger, until it is perfect in heaven at last: but where is the use of trying to express such things?"

"I think it is enough to feel them," said Sister Gabrielle.

CHAPTER XXVI.