The Wing-and-Wing Part 40

Raoul Yvard was indebted to a piece of forethought in Clinch for his life. But for the three guns fired so opportunely from the Foudroyant, the execution could not have been stayed; and but for a prudent care on the part of the master's-mate, the guns would never have been fired. The explanation is this: when Cuffe was giving his subordinate instructions how to proceed, the possibility of detention struck the latter, and he bethought him of some expedient by which such an evil might be remedied.

At his suggestion then, the signal of the guns was mentioned by the captain, in his letter to the commander-in-chief, and its importance pointed out. When Clinch reached the fleet, Nelson was at Castel a Mare, and it became necessary to follow him to that place by land. Here Clinch found him in the palace of Qui-Si-Sane, in attendance on the court, and delivered his despatches. Nothing gave the British admiral greater pleasure than to be able to show mercy, the instance to the contrary already introduced existing as an exception in his private character and his public career; and it is possible that an occurrence so recent, and so opposed to his habits, may have induced him the more willingly now to submit to his ordinary impulses, and to grant the respite asked with the greater prompt.i.tude.

"Your captain tells me here, sir," observed Nelson, after he had read Cuffe's letter a second time, "little doubt exists that Yvard was in the Bay on a love affair, and that his purposes were not those of a spy, after all?"

"Such is the, opinion aboard us, my lord," answered the master's-mate.

"There are an old man and a very charming young woman in his company, who Captain Cuffe says were in the cabin of this s.h.i.+p, on a visit to your lords.h.i.+p, only a few days since."

Nelson started, and his face flushed. Then he seized a pen, and, with the only hand he had, scratched a letter, directing a reprieve until further orders. This he signed and handed to Clinch, saying, as he did so:

"Get into your boat, sir, and pull back to the frigate as fast as possible; G.o.d forbid that any man suffer wrongfully!"

"I beg your pardon, my lord--but there is not time, now, for me to reach the s.h.i.+p before the sun set. I have a signal prepared in the boat, it is true; but the frigate may not come round Campanella before the last moment, and then all these pains will be lost. Does not Captain Cuffe speak of some guns to be fired from the flag-s.h.i.+p, my lord?"

"He does, sir; and this may be the safest mode of communicating, after all. With this light westerly air, a gun will be heard a long distance at sea. Take the pen, and write as I dictate, sir."

Clinch seized the pen, which the admiral, who had lost his right arm only a few years before, really felt unable to use, and wrote as follows:

"Sir--Immediately on the receipt of this, you will fire three heavy guns, at intervals of half a minute, as a signal to the Proserpine to suspend an execution.

"To the Commanding Officer of His Majesty's s.h.i.+p Foudroyant."

As soon as the magical words of "Nelson and Bronte" were affixed to this order, with a date, Clinch rose to depart. After he had made his bows, he stood with his hand on the lock of the door, as if uncertain whether to prefer a request or not.

"This is a matter of moment, sir, and no time is to be lost," added Nelson. "I feel great anxiety about it, and wish you to desire Captain Cuffe to send you back with a report of all that has pa.s.sed, as soon as convenient."

"I will report your wishes, my lord," answered Clinch, brightening up; for he only wanted an opportunity to speak of his own promotion, and this was now offered in perspective. "May I tell the commanding officer of the flag-s.h.i.+p to use the lower-deck guns, my lord?"

"He will do that of his own accord, after reading those orders; heavy guns mean the heaviest. Good afternoon, sir; for G.o.d's sake, lose no time."

Clinch obeyed this injunction to the letter. He reached the Foudroyant some time before sunset, and immediately placed the order in her captain's hands. A few words of explanation set everything in motion, and the three guns were fired on the side of the s.h.i.+p toward Capri, most opportunely for our hero.

The half hour that succeeded, on board the Proserpine, was one of gayety and merriment. Every person was glad that the s.h.i.+p had escaped an execution; and then it was the hour for piping down the hammocks, and for s.h.i.+fting the dogwatches. Cuffe recovered all his animation, and conversed cheerfully, having Griffin for an interpreter, with his two Italian guests. These last had been prevented from paying their visit to the prisoner, on account of the latter's wish to be alone; but the intention was now renewed; and sending below, to ascertain if it would be agreeable, they proceeded together on their friendly mission. As the two worthies, who had not altogether got their sea-legs, slowly descended the ladder, and threaded their way among the throng of a s.h.i.+p, the discourse did not flag between them.

"Cospetto!" exclaimed the podesta; "Signor Andrea, we live in a world of wonders! A man can hardly say whether he is actually alive or not. To think how near this false Sir Smees was to death, half an hour since; and now, doubtless, he is as much alive, and as merry as any of us."

"It would be more useful, friend Vito Viti," answered the philosophical vice-governatore, "to remember how near those who live are always to death, who has only to open his gates to cause the strongest and fairest to pa.s.s at once into the tomb."

"By San Stefano, but you have a way with you, vice-governatore, that would become a cardinal! It's a thousand pities the church was robbed of such a support; though I do think, Signor Andrea, if your mind would dwell less on another state of being, it would be more cheerful; and I may say, more cheering to those with whom you discourse. There are evils enough in this life, without thinking so much of death."

"There are philosophers who pretend, good Vito, that nothing that we see around us actually has an existence: that we _fancy_ everything; fancy that this is a sea, called the Mediterranean; fancy this is a s.h.i.+p--yonder is the land; fancy that we live; and even fancy death."

"Corpo di Bacco! Signor Andrea," exclaimed the other, stopping short at the foot of the ladder, and seizing his companion by a b.u.t.ton, afraid he would desert him in the midst of a strange delusion, "you would not trifle in such a matter with an old friend; one who has known you from childhood? _Fancy_ that I am alive!"

"_Si_--I have told you only the truth. The imagination is very strong, and may easily give the semblance of reality to unreal things."

"And that I am not a podesta, in fact, but one only in fancy!"

"Just so, friend Vito; and that I am only a vice-governatore, too, in the imagination."

"And that Elba is not a real island, or Porto Ferrajo a real town; and that even all our iron, of which we _seem_ to send so much about the world, in good, wholesome s.h.i.+ps, is only a sort of ghost of solid, substantial metal!"

"_St, si_--that everything which appears to be material is, in fact, imaginary; iron, gold, or flesh."

"And then I am not Vito Viti, but an impostor? What a rascally philosophy is this! Why, both of us are as bad as this Sir Smees, if what you say be true, vice-governatore--or make-believe vice-governatore."

"Not an impostor, friend Vito; for there is no real being of thy name, if thou art not he."

"Diavolo! A pretty theory this, which would teach the young people of Elba that there is no actual podesta in the island, but only a poor, miserable, sham one; no Vito Viti on earth. If they get to think this, G.o.d help the place, as to order and sobriety."

"I do not think, neighbor, that you fully understand the matter, which may be owing to a want of clearness on my part; but, as we are now on our way to visit an unfortunate prisoner, we may as well postpone the discussion to another time. There are many leisure moments on board a s.h.i.+p, to the language of which one is a stranger, that might be usefully and agreeably relieved by going into the subject more at large."

"Your pardon, Signor Andrea; but there is no time like the present.

Then, if the theory be true, there is no prisoner at all--or, at the most, an imaginary one--and it can do Sir Smees no harm to wait; while, on the other hand, I shall not have a moment's peace until I learn whether there is such a man as Vito Viti or not, and whether I am he."

"Brother Vito, thou art impatient; these things are not learned in a moment; moreover, every system has a beginning and an end, like a book; and who would ever become learned, that should attempt to read a treatise backward?"

"I know what is due to you, Signor Andrea, both on ac count of your higher rank, and on account of your greater wisdom, and will say no more at present; though to keep from _thinking_ on a philosophy that teaches I am not a podesta, or you a vice-governatore, is more than flesh and blood can bear."

Andrea Barrofaldi, glad that his companion was momentarily appeased, now proceeded toward Raoul's little prison, and was immediately admitted by the sentry, who had his orders to that effect. The prisoner received his guests courteously and cheerfully; for we are far from wis.h.i.+ng to represent him as so heroic as not to rejoice exceedingly at having escaped death by hanging, even though it might prove to be a respite, rather than a pardon. At such a moment, the young man could have excused a much more offensive intrusion, and the sudden change in his prospects disposed him a little to be jocular; for truth compels us to add that grat.i.tude to G.o.d entered but little into his emotions. The escape from death, like his capture, and the other incidents of his cruise, was viewed simply as the result of the fortune of war.

Winchester had directed that Raoul's state-room should be supplied with every little convenience that his situation required, and, among other things, it had two common s.h.i.+p's stools. One of these was given to each of the Italians, while the prisoner took a seat on the gun-tackle of one of the two guns that formed the sides of his apartment. It was now night, and a mist had gathered over the arch above, winch hid the stars, and rendered it quite dark. Still, Raoul had neither lamp nor candles; and, though they had been offered him, he declined their use, as he had found stranger eyes occasionally peeping through the openings in the canvas, with the idle curiosity of the vulgar, to ascertain the appearance and employments of one condemned to die. He had experienced a good deal of annoyance from this feeling the previous night; and the same desire existing to see how a criminal could bear a respite, he determined to pa.s.s his evening in obscurity. There was a lantern or two, however, on the gun-deck, which threw a dim light even beyond the limits of the canvas bulkheads. As has been said already, these bulkheads extended from gun to gun, so as to admit light and air from the ports. This brought the tackles on one side into the room; and on one of these Raoul now took his seat.

Andrea Barrofaldi, from his superior condition in life, as well as from his better education and nicer natural tact, far surpa.s.sed his companion in courtesy of demeanor. The latter would have plunged _in medias res_ at once, but the vice-governatore commenced a conversation on general matters, intending to offer his congratulations for the recent respite when he conceived that a suitable occasion should arise. This was an unfortunate delay in one respect; for Vito Viti no sooner found that the main object of the visit was to be postponed, than he turned with eagerness to the subject in discussion, which had been interrupted in order to enter the state-room.

"Here has the vice-governatore come forward with a theory, Sir Smees,"

he commenced, the moment a pause in the discourse left him an opening--"here has the vice-governatore come forward with a theory that I insist the church would call d.a.m.nable, and at which human nature revolts----"

"Nay, good Vito, thou dost not state the case fairly," interrupted Andrea, whose spirit was a little aroused at so abrupt an a.s.sault. "The theory is not mine; it is that of a certain English philosopher, in particular, who, let it be said, too, was a bishop."

"A Lutheran!--was it not so, honorable Signor Andrea?--a bishop so called?"

"Why, to confess the truth, he _was_ a heretic, and not to be considered as an apostle of the true church."

"Aye--I would have sworn to that. No true son of the church would ever broach such a doctrine. Only fancy, signori, the number of imaginary fires, tongues, and other instruments of torture that would become necessary to carry on punishment under such a system! To be consistent, even the devils ought to be imaginary."

"_Comment, signori!"_ exclaimed Raoul, smiling, and arousing to a sudden interest in the discourse; "did any English bishop ever broach such a doctrine? Imaginary devils, and imaginary places of punishment, are coming near to our revolutionary France! After this, I hope our much-abused philosophy will meet with more respect."

"My neighbor has not understood the theory of which he speaks," answered Andrea, too good, a churchman not to feel uneasiness at the direction things were taking: "and so, worthy Vito Viti, I feel the necessity of explaining the whole matter at some length. Sir Smees," so the Italians called Raoul, out of courtesy still, it being awkward for them, after all that had pa.s.sed, to address him by his real name--"Sir Smees will excuse us for a few minutes; perhaps it may serve to amuse him to hear to what a flight the imagination of a subtle-minded man can soar."

Raoul civilly expressed the satisfaction it would give him to listen, and stretching himself on the gun-tackle, in order to be more at ease, he leaned back with his head fairly within the port, while his feet were braced against the inner truck of the gun-carriage. This threw him into a somewhat rec.u.mbent att.i.tude, but it being understood as intended to render what was but an inconvenient seat at the best tolerably comfortable, no one thought it improper.

It is unnecessary for us to repeat here all that Andrea Barrofaldi thought proper to say in his own justification, and in explanation of the celebrated theory of Bishop Berkeley. Such a task was not performed in a minute; and, in truth, prolixity, whenever he got upon a favorite theme, was apt to be one of the vice-governatore's weaknesses. He was far from acquiescing in the doctrine, though he annoyed his old neighbor exceedingly, by presenting the subject in such a way as to render it respectable in appearance, if not conclusive in argument. To the latter it was peculiarly unpleasant to imagine, even for the sake of argument, that there was no such island as Elba, and that he was not its podesta; and all his personal and egotistical propensities came in aid of his official reluctance, to disgust him thoroughly with a theory that he did not hesitate to say "was an outrage on every honest man's nature."

"There are fellows in the world, Signor Andrea," the straightforward podesta urged, in continuation of his objections, "who might be glad enough to find everything imaginary, as you say--chaps that cannot sleep of nights, for bad consciences, and to whom it would be a great blessing if the earth would throw them overboard, as they say in this s.h.i.+p, and let them fall into the great ocean of oblivion. But they are baroni in grain, and ought not to pa.s.s for anything material, among honest people.

I've known several of those rogues at Livorno, and I dare say Napoli is not altogether without them; but that is a very different matter from telling a handsome and virtuous young maiden that her beauty and modesty are both seeming; and respectable magistrates that they are as great impostors as the very rogues they send to the prisons; or, perhaps, to the galleys."

To speeches like these, Andrea opposed his explanations and his philosophy, until the discussion became animated, and the dialogue loud.

It is rather a peculiarity of Italy, that one of the softest languages of Christendom is frequently rendered harsh and unpleasant by the mode of using it. On this occasion, certainly, the animation of the disputants did not mitigate the evil. Griffin happened to pa.s.s the spot, on the outside of the canvas, just at this moment, and, catching some of the words, he stopped to listen. His smiles and translations soon collected a group of officers, and the sentry respectfully dropping a little on one side, the deck around the state-room of the prisoner became a sort of parquet to a very amusing representation. Several of the young gentlemen understood a little Italian, and Griffin translating rapidly, though in an undertone, the whole affair was deemed to be particularly diverting.