He carried out his part with such bounce that he was completely successful; between him and the landlord and his crew I was hustled into the kitchens where I found the preparations for the cavaliere's supper in full blast.

CHAPTER x.x.xI

MY ADVENTURES AT THE INN

I hope I may say that, in the painful position in which I found myself, I did what was becoming to a man of honour more jealous of his wife's than of his own. I reasoned with myself that a scandal, an uproar, an exhibition of my resentment would not only be no protection to Virginia, but would be, on the other hand, the clearest evidence that I doubted her. It could only end in my being turned out of the inn and in her being held by every man and woman of the place for what she was not. I remembered here with admiration the conduct of Father Carnesecchi, who, having on one occasion conducted two ladies and their cavaliers about the church of San Giovannino, and pointed out what beauties it possessed--and many which it did not--was mistaken by them for the sacristan and offered a small gratuity at the door. He thanked them and humbly accepted it, and (as I think), did well; for, as he said afterwards, it would have hurt their esteem much more to have been refused than it could possibly hurt his to have been offered the gift.

It was in the spirit of this that I acted in the present state of my affairs. Virginia was undoubtedly my wife, and therefore of my own rank.

To doubt a gentleman in any situation, however delicate, were to be offensive; it could not therefore be less offensive, but must needs be more, to doubt a gentlewoman. Not only did I not doubt her in truth, but I would not let it be supposed by any one that I did. There then, in that steaming kitchen, among sweating cooks and greasy cook-aids did I stand, with what countenance I had.

They were too busy just then for any notice to be thrown my way. I sat in a corner out of sight and watched their preparations for a superb banquet. It might have seemed that the cavaliere was going to entertain all the Ancients of the Republic, to judge by the capons and turkeys, the strings of ortolans, the quails, the partridges, roasting, basting or getting trussed. There was a cygnet, I remember; there were large fish stuffed with savoury herbs, crawfish, lampreys, eels in wine; there were pastry, shapes of cream, jellies, custards: you never saw such a feast--and I am sure there were a score of persons of both s.e.xes busy about it. The maids flew from saucepan to stewpan, the boys staggered under piles of plates; the dressers and servers were always in and out, carrying dishes to the lacqueys of the table or coming back for more.

The head-cook, a mountain of brawn and lard, seemed fresh from the bath-- so he dripped and shone. The hubbub, bustle, heat and worry are not to be described by me.

When the dinner was at last completed and sent to table, the master-cook straightened himself and gave a short order, which was immediately obeyed. I saw him go into the scullery near by and souse his head and neck in a bucket of cold water. In a trice the tables of his late business were cleared, and the scullions laid out the materials for supper. These were, as may be supposed, distinguished by abundance rather than refinement: a dish of tripe, a chine of beef, spaghetti in wash-hand basins, onion salad with garlic, sausages, blood-puddings, pigs' feet in vinegar. High wicker flasks of wine stood in iron cages, to be swung down by the finger; there was one bottle of water: all was ready. But n.o.body sat down until the master-cook appeared. The men stood on one side of the table, the maids on the other, like soldiers on parade. He entered, the huge fellow, red from his cold douche, his hair all rumpled from the rude embraces of the jack-towel, and walked over to the men's side, wiping the wet from his ears as he went. He stood--this captain of the kitchen--in front of his company, and with a sweeping and appraising eye surveyed the ordered nymphs. He selected the partner of his choice, a modest-mannered creature who answered to the name of Gentucca; she came forward and stood by his side. With no more waiting he took his seat at the head of the board, and, plunging his fingers into a steaming bowl of spaghetti, began to gobble at it in the unedifying way which his nation have--and which, indeed, the dish demands. Gentucca sat at his right hand, but took nothing until she had helped him to drink. Meantime the others had made their arrangements-- from the second in command down to the merest pot-boy selections had been made from among the maids. I heard, "Lisabetta, come here," or, "No, no, Liperata, I have chosen you"--or it was Caterina, or Giocosa, or Bettina, as the case may have been. To be brief, down sat everybody in the kitchen, Jack by his Gill, save my unhappy self.

It was the highly favoured Gentucca who pointed me out to the Grand Master of the Cooks. As I still wore the cape and long coat of Aquamorta's servant I was naturally accepted as such. The master-cook, who saw directly that I was a foreigner, courteously invited me to the right hand of Gentucca, ordering a bouncing girl of the name of Maria- Maddelena to make room for me. She very pleasantly did so; my plate was heaped, my cup was filled; all the company stood up and drank my health.

Nothing could have been kinder than this humble society. My eyes clouded more than once to recognise it.

My host exerted himself to entertain me, though he tried (and I cannot blame him) to entertain the company at the same time. Perhaps his curiosity got the better of his good nature; certainly he pumped me as dry as I could be induced to go, and it was not until he had learned everything I cared to tell him that he remembered that he could impart as well as receive. He discussed my master (as he supposed him to be), the cavaliere, and by what he told me gave me some entertainment not unmixed with anxiety. That obliging and imperturbable person was, I found out, a gentleman of fortune--a term which implies that he was not a gentleman at all and had no kind of fortune but what he could secure of his neighbours. He travelled like a prince, and spent his money freely, but all was, as my host said, a case of casting nets. "Not but what my gentleman loves his belly as much as you or I," said the master- cook; "and small blame to him if he do. A man's head has no more stout ally than his paunch, while it is well lined, and no more arrant deserter if he cut short the supplies. But if you suppose, sir, that the banquet which I have sent upstairs is all for Aquamorta and his lady to consume en tete-a-tete, you know very little about him. Why, I'll wager that demirep of a valet of his has collected half our young blades to the board. Good food, good wine, good talk there will be, never fear.

And afterwards--what follows? So soon as the tables are cleared out come the cards and the fishes. His Excellency, to oblige the company, will make a faro-bank; the company--well fed and well drunken--to oblige his Excellency, will punt. The signora will do the same for the ladies, the ladies for the signora. Now do you see the drift of his net? Should any little dispute arise--as will be on occasion--the cavaliere's sword is at the disposition of the gentleman offended. He is something of a marksman, too, as you cannot fail to have heard if you are a traveller.

He has killed a man and undone a couple of ladies in every Court of Europe. He has been under the leads at Venice, and out again, deuce knows how. He has been expelled from half the cities of Italy, and has turned the story into capital in the other half. A most exorbitant, irresistible droll of a master you have there, sir; but who his decoy- duck of the moment may be, I dare say you can tell better than I. A fine young woman, and a cool hand, I could see for myself. I thought she looked waspish and gave herself more graces than were hers by nature. He has a taste for a bitter with his food, it appears; something tart and sharp to give an edge to his palate, perhaps. Do you happen to know her name?"

I said she was known to me as Donna Virginia, whereat he laughed gaily, and taking Gentucca round the waist, kissed her heartily, saying that she was the virgin for him.

Shortly after this, with a few words of polite excuse, he broke up the table and retired with his partner. The rest of the company gave itself up to pleasures which were as zestful as they were free. It may be imagined that I had little taste for such simple sports as these worthy persons could devise. I sat, an unhappy spectator of their gambols--but a diversion of a vigorous kind was at hand. In the midst of the scuffling and babel of voices in the kitchen I heard the strident tones of the cavaliere, evidently in a great rage.

"Where is that dastardly dog? Where is that villain of a cook?" I heard him roar on the stairs. "Bring me that scoundrel that I may slit his ears!" At this moment he burst through the doors, a terrific spectacle of fury, his eyes burning like fires, his face inflamed, his drawn sword in his hand. The company scattered to the walls or dived beneath the tables, chairs were overturned, the maids began to scream.

He glared about him at the desert he had made. "Produce me the cook, you knaves," cried he, "or I mow you down like thistles." The master-cook's face peeped through the gently opened door, and the cavaliere, across the room in two strides, seized his victim by the ear and pulled him headlong into the kitchen. "Hound!" he roared, "and son of a hound! Take the punishment you have earned."

"Sir, sir!" says the unhappy cook, "what have I done?"

"Done!" cries the cavaliere, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g him unmercifully by the ear, "you have compa.s.sed my death by your infernal arts. I am poisoned--a dying man, but my last ounce of strength shall be enough to avenge me." So said, he began to belabour the wretch with the flat of his sword, and at each stroke the cook gave a howl of terror. His poor little mistress ran out of her concealment and clung to his helpless person, seeking to receive upon hers the blows as they fell. It was then that I interposed.

"Cavaliere," I said, "you are acting, with I know not what justice, against a man who has just proved more hospitable to me than yourself has thought fit to do. I must now tell you that any further indignity offered to him must be considered as done to me."

He paused in his furious attack, and "Ha!" says he, "here's the husband." He began to laugh; he laughed with such gusto and abandoned himself to such uproarious mirth that very soon all the company except myself was laughing with him. All of a sudden he stopped, with a mighty serious face. "Harkee, my friend," says he to me, "upon reflection I do believe that I have been hasty. The spasm pa.s.ses. It may well be that it was the excellence of this honest man's catering which betrayed me, and not any infernal design. A pa.s.sing cholic, after all!" He smiled benevolently upon his recent prisoner. "Rise, my worthy friend," said he, "and receive a pardon from the right hand of fellowship, sugared, as I hope, to your liking." His hand was full of gold pieces. "n.o.body shall say," he added proudly, "that Aquamorta cannot requite good service, because he knows so well how to reprimand bad service." The cook humbly thanking his Excellency, the storm was over.

But I had another brewing, or thought that I should have. As the cavaliere was about to retire, I stopped him and said that I wished to accompany him. He scratched his head.

"Why, my dear sir," says he, "that will be plaguily inconvenient at this moment. My rooms are full of guests, d'ye see? Your charming lady is entertaining all the Senators' mistresses, and I am in the midst of a carouse with their Serenities. I am not one for hard-and-fast categories, as you know. Your dirty shirt and ragged elbows are nothing to me--but zounds! I can't answer for the most Serene Ancients."

I said then that I would retire to my room and wait for my wife--but to that he objected that, in strict truth, and to keep up the fiction upon which my safety depended, I had no room, at all. My wife was considered to be his wife, while I was supposed to be what I had professed myself, his servant. Would I, he asked me, for the sake of a night's gratification, imperil the many happy years which, he hoped and would take care, should be in store for me?

I was somewhat slow in meeting this preposterous question as it deserved, and when I opened my lips to speak he stopped me with, "Say no more. I don't ask your thanks. Your safety is as dear to me as my own."

He beckoned to one of the scullions, and "Hi, you," says he, "show this fellow of mine where he can sleep, and see to it that his company be honest." With that he ruffled upstairs with the airs of a grand duke, and left me once more stranded with the cooks. To come to an end of this humiliating page, rejecting all offers of company, I was accommodated with a wretched cupboard below the stairs, which smelt vilely of sour wine and mildewed cheese, and ruefully prepared to spend what sort of night I could, with my thoughts for bedfellows.

I know not what hour of the night it was when I was roused out of a dream-tortured sleep by the creaking of my cupboard door. Looking up, the light of a candle which she held showed me Virginia.

"Behold Virginia," she said. "Did you doubt whether I should come?"

"I never doubted but you would come if you could," I replied, "but I did not see how it was possible." She blew out the candle and crept to my side. "The cavaliere, by diverting his friends with your plight," she said, "revealed to me where he had left you. I excused myself to the company and retired. I think he will be disagreeably surprised before morning."

I was much touched by her devotion and wifely duty, and a.s.sured her of it by every means in my power.

CHAPTER x.x.xII

WE LIVE HAPPILY IN LUCCA

Whatever trick Virginia may have designed for the humiliation of the cavaliere--and I never inquired of her what it was--it failed of any apparent effect. He presented himself before us in the morning with undisturbed serenity, and the same elaborate professions of good-will.

He was going, he said, to spend the day in my rehabilitation. "Be of good cheer, my dear Don Francis," were his comfortable words, "for I never yet failed a friend. It would, indeed--to put it at its lowest--be a deplorable want of policy on my part, for since I wish to be thought a gentleman, every act of my life must be more gentlemanlike than that of the greatest gentleman in Europe. As you have found me hitherto, so you shall find me now. Make me your banker at the tailor's, the perruquier's, the barber's, the shirtmaker's, the hosier's, and the hatter's. Add the shoemaker to your list, to oblige me. I go out to beat at every influential door in Lucca in your favour. Before nightfall, you shall have papers of ident.i.ty and safe-conduct which will take you all over our peninsula."

I thanked him, but declined any a.s.sistance whatsoever. I had money enough for my needs; my wife was prepared to share the fortunes of her husband. I said that I intended to take a small lodging, to settle myself there, and by honest industry to make my way in the world. Both of us could work; we had no desire for fine society; and as for credentials, the excellency of our handiwork and our obedience to the laws would be the best in the world.

He was vexed, and showed that he was. "As for your handiwork, my dear sir," says he, "all that I have seen of it is that it has left you with scarce a shirt to your back. Your respect for the law has induced you to shoot a Capuchin in broad daylight, and forced you to leave Florence disguised as a manservant. However, these things are no concern of mine.

Go your own way, young gentleman, consider me your friend, and permit me to kiss your lady's hand, vowing myself her grateful and obliged servant for more favours than perhaps you would care to hear recounted."

Scorning such insinuations as they deserved, Virginia held him out her hand, which he kissed as if he would have bitten it. I ought to have been warned by the glitter in his hard black eyes, but being conscious of my moral alt.i.tude above the base wretch, I took no further notice of him.

I had still in my possession my fifty guineas, with which, judiciously laid out, I had no doubt but that we could make our way good in Lucca.

Full of hope, and fortified by all the privileges which the Church can bestow upon a Christian, or a complaisant wife upon her husband, I set about my business, which was to secure honourable employment for both of us. After much discussion with Virginia and the exhibition of reasons on my part with which I shall be less particular to trouble the reader, since I have dwelt upon them more than once already, I decided to begin in one of the humblest positions a man can take up. I would do journeyman's work of any sort or kind until I had won what in the finer walks of life we call the spurs. Not to be behind me in effort, Virginia would work also. I hesitated for some time between the carpenter's and the gardener's profession, for both of which I had always had an apt.i.tude; but the former had my choice. Virginia ultimately chose for laundry-work, because that took her more into the open air, which she dearly loved.

I remember that we came to these decisions, after a day or two of talk about them, upon the gra.s.sy ramparts which overlooked the beautiful city on one side and the green meads of the Serchio, with their background of purple hills, on the other. It was there that Virginia, holding my hand in hers, spoke in this manner. "Francis," said she, "my lord and master, I have never yet asked you why you paid me the extreme honour of making me your wife, when, as you know very well, I was yours to dispose of in any other way you pleased; and I shall never ask you. It is enough for me that you have raised a poor girl out of the mire and made her a proud woman. But proud as I am--or because I am proud--I shall not forget to be humble. Don't suppose that I think myself raised to your degree because you have taken me in your arms; no, indeed, I am a little peasant and shall always be a little peasant. If I was found good in your eyes--as I am bound to believe I was--it was for that reason. Such as I am, for such as you have taken me, I shall never fail you. I will work the flesh off my bones for you, I will lie, cheat, steal, commit any sin under the sky if you bid me. I am utterly yours to take or put away, to live or die, for Heaven or h.e.l.l--you have only to require of me. It is in my power to sink for your pleasure, for we can always go lower than our best; but I cannot rise without you. If you ask me to set up for a lady, I tell you plainly I cannot. Have patience with me, Francis; do not condemn me to fail you. If I cannot rise, you must stoop. If I cannot be a fine lady, you must be content to do without your gentlehood. If I am a peasant, you must be a peasant. As such I shall please you--I am certain of it. In any other way you will stab me at every turn of your head. I shall break my back for you--and do well in my own way; but in yours I shall break my heart--and not advantage you one inch. Remember this too, that you may abandon me whenever you please, and get no reproaches from me."

She spoke modestly, courageously, and well. I kissed her, saying, "You are a good wife to me, Virginia. I agree with everything you say. Come, my dear, kiss me. I think we shall be happy."

She dashed her hand across her eyes as if to fend off a sudden storm of tears; then threw her arms round my neck and pressed me close to her bosom. She kissed me a thousand times, eagerly and warmly. "I love you, my lord, I love you, my saviour and king. If you are kind to me, I shall die. Beat me, misuse me, neglect me, be unfaithful--it is your right-- and I shall serve you the better for it. But if you love me I cannot bear it. I shall suffocate with joy--my heart will crack. O Francis, Francis, wilt thou never understand thy poor girl?" All this time she was straining me to her with frenzy, kissing me, almost blind with tears. She was frantic, panting and struggling for breath. I had seen her before in possession of this dangerous ecstasy of love, and though I could not but love her for it in my turn, it was not the kind of happiness I wished her to enjoy. Her scene ended in a very pa.s.sion of weeping, distressing to witness, but no doubt soothing; after which, moaning like one sore beaten, she lay lax and languid in my arms. Deeply touched, I laid her down upon the gra.s.s and watched her fade off into a quieter sleep. In this state she lay for an hour of more, and awoke refreshed, her usual shrewd and reticent self.

Therefore, loving, and being pa.s.sionately loved in return, working diligently at a clean trade, living in the sweat of my brow, owing no man anything, the next few months of my life--few as they were, not more than six all told--were some of the happiest I have ever spent. They recalled those weeks at Pistoja, but only to excel them; for then I was idle and Virginia not satisfied. Then I had none of the sweet uses of domestic life--the hearth in common, and the heart too; the nuptial sacraments of kiss and embrace, the united outlook, the rational hope of increase. We forgot the world, which had forgotten us; our appet.i.tes were simple and easily satisfied; we fed each other and knew deep content. Happy, happy days at Lucca, too soon ended! We shared the uses of a single room with a couple as young and newly wedded as ourselves, rose at five in the morning, and worked at our employment until late in the evening. We ate frugally, drank a little wine and water, loved temperately, and slept profoundly. On Sundays and festivals we went to Ma.s.s together, and spent our leisure in excursions in the fields and pleasant groves with which Lucca is engirdled. We never ventured outside the territory of the Republic, but felt secure within it, trusting to our honest intentions, our simplicity and complete insignificance. Ah, blessed content! Blessed, thrice blessed obscurity! Would to G.o.d that you had been a.s.sured to us for ever! On rare occasions one or other of us had sight of the Cavaliere Aquamorta, who maintained the same magnificence at the Albergo del Sole, and was reputed to be making large sums with his faro-bank. A new scheme of his for a State lottery upon a scale never before conceived by this thrifty little State was said to be under the consideration of the Senators. Working in my master's yard, I used to see him now and again being carried in his chair to this great house or that, half a dozen link-boys before him, and his valet behind carrying his sword and gloves. Virginia often met him in the course of her errands, but, as she said, was never recognised by him. We nattered ourselves that he had forgotten our co-existence with him upon this planet. Hope never stooped to falser cozenage; we were to be rudely undeceived.

CHAPTER x.x.xIII

TREACHERY WORKS AGAINST US

One evening--I believe, as I said, that it was after nearly six months'

calm and temperate life that our troubles began--upon returning from my day's work, I found Virginia in a pensive mood. She accepted, but hardly returned, my salute, was very silent throughout the preparation and eating of our supper; now and then, glancing at her, I caught her gaze fixed upon me, and fancied that there was a hard light in her eyes. Our companions, Gioiachino and his wife Teresa, rallied us on what they thought to be one of those domestic differences common to the most affectionate couples. "A tiff, a tiff!" said they, nudging each other.

"Virginia has caught him with the gardener's wife. We shall get no sleep to-night." This gardener's wife was an obese and asthmatic matron of some two-score years; who occupied a room in our little house, and was kinder to me than I cared for. It was not until Gioiachino and his Teresa were asleep that I could hope to discover what had affected Virginia. She then told me that, as she had been at work that afternoon, kneeling on the boards by the river with the other women, the Cavaliere Aquamorta with a party of gentlemen had come by the meadows and stopped to jest and bandy familiarities with the laundresses. Although he had pretended not to recognise her, Virginia was not deceived. Finding his opportunity, he drew near to her side, and whispered in her ear, "Can I believe my senses? You, my charming consort of a few weeks ago, in such a plight, in such a company!" Virginia had replied that the company had been of her own choosing up to this hour, and that what he complained of now could be remedied very easily, and by himself only. He said, "No, my honour will not allow it. I must needs remember what I might have made you, and what you have become. Count upon Aquamorta, who has never yet failed his friends. Count upon his memory and pa.s.sionate aspirations."