CHAPTER IV.
The room which the Earl of Gowrie entered was a small one of an octagonal shape, having tall lancet windows on every side but one. It had probably, at some period long past, been the interior of one of those small projecting turrets which we still occasionally see ornamenting the angles of the ancient castellated houses of the Italian nobility. The bridge leading towards the Treviso gate, and the small canal were underneath; the city walls rose up black beyond; but the turret was high above, and through the windows, on every side but that next to the city, were seen twinkling the bright and multitudinous stars of heaven. In the centre of the room was a large oaken table bearing a lamp, the flame of which was peculiarly bright and perfectly white in colour, and over the rest of the table were cast in strange confusion a number of curious objects. There were books--some closed, but some open, and displaying characters with which the young earl was perfectly unacquainted. One page was covered all over with cyphers alternately of red and blue; and one was traced with many mathematical figures, which, although the earl was well versed in that science, seemed to him strange and new. Another manuscript lay near, which he saw at once was written in Hebrew, but there were others in which the lines ran from corner to corner of the page, with such a multitude of strokes and flourishes, that the letters themselves could hardly be distinguished. Scientific instruments were there too, tossed about amongst the papers, with the uses of many of which the young lord was unacquainted. There were triangular glasses filled with sand, and glass globes, connected together by a tube of the same substance, half filled with mercury. Squares and triangles of brass covered over with curious signs were there likewise; and round about the room, beneath shelves loaded with ponderous volumes, were several globes, and instruments of a rude construction for observing the stars. In one corner stood a small furnace, with crucibles and retorts, and various other implements of chemical or alchemical science; and on a small pedestal of black marble between two of the windows was raised a crucifix of ebony and ivory, supported by two heads of cherubim, exquisitely sculptured in white marble, the one looking up towards the cross with a bright smile, the other with the eyes bent down, as if weeping, and the whole expression sad. At the foot of the crucifix lay a human skull.
At the moment the earl entered, the old man, Manucci, was seated on the side of the table opposite to the door, with a reading desk bearing up a large vellum-covered book before him, and a paper covered with a strange-looking diagram on the table. He had a pen in one hand, and a pair of compasses in the other; and without noticing, even by a look, the young earl's entrance, he turned his eyes from time to time to the book and then to the paper again, and once or twice inscribed a figure of a curious form at the side of the diagram. Twice he paused and listened, as if in expectation of some sound, and then laying down the pen, he leaned his head upon his hand, and remained in silent meditation.
At length the large bell of the Franciscan church of St. Antony struck the hour of midnight, and all the other clocks in the city proclaimed that a day was ending and beginning.
"Now," said Manucci, addressing the earl, "come hither, and sit beside me. Here is the scheme of your nativity, drawn out carefully according to the dates that you have given me. Of the past I will not speak; for, as you have often told me the events which have occurred to you at various periods of your life, perhaps in drawing deductions from the aspect of the stars, my judgment might be somewhat guided by the knowledge I already possessed. It is sufficient, however, that to any one who is acquainted, even superficially, with this science, it would plainly appear, that the aspect of the stars in the month of October, 1593, menaced you with great danger, and that in '94, towards the end of the year, you were clearly destined to quit your native land. Of the future, however, I must speak more strongly; for times of great trial to you are coming. Look at these menacing aspects, and judge for yourself."
"I know so little of the science," replied the earl, "that I cannot pretend to form a just opinion; but it seems to me, from the little I do know, that here," and he laid his finger on a part of the diagram, "is the promise of much happiness, honour, and peace, and love."
"Ay," said Manucci, "but look farther. Here is honour, and peace, and love, but hardly has the sun of next year touched his extreme point north, when see what menacing aspects appear. Almost every planet is in opposition in your house. Do you not see?"
"I do, indeed," answered the earl; "but yet it is nearly unintelligible to me. I beseech you read it, according to your skill."
"It is dark and yet clear," said the old man. "This, however, I can tell with certainty, that the greatest point of peril in your whole life, lies between the end of June next year and the anniversary of this day. The danger shall come upon you in the midst of peace and tranquillity, when all things seem to promise fair. If you escape that period, the rest of existence shall be bright and happy, your life shall be long and prosperous, and fortune shall smile upon you to the end; but there is great peril there."
"But how shall I avoid it?" asked the earl. "Can you give me no indication for my guidance? Can you not tell me what is the nature of the peril, from whom or whence it comes?"
Manucci mused. "It is not war," he said, "for Mars is low down. I should say that policy had to do with it, that the danger is more of conspiracy than of war."
The young earl smiled; but Manucci went on, in the same sort of musing way. "Love, too," he said, "has a share in the evil, though indirect; but conspiracy assuredly, from the menacing aspect of Saturn. Avoid, I beseech you, avoid all meddling with the politics of your native land; scrupulously and carefully eschew treason, or anything that may be so construed; listen not even to the words of conspirators, take no part in their counsels, drive them forth from your presence if they seek to tempt you, and so I trust you may escape the peril; but if not, you will certainly fall, for the anger of a king evidently threatens you; and the cause of danger is conspiracy, goaded on by love."
"Safely and surely can I promise," answered the earl, "for I have long made up my mind to avoid all plots, and to take no share of any kind in aught but the ordinary business of the day. My family have suffered too much already from their dealings with that foul fiend, Policy, which ever proves the ruin of those who give themselves up to her, who soothes them with hopes but to deceive them, and raises them up but to dash them down. Neither have I ever seen or heard of one benefit procured for the country by the blood of all the patriots who have fallen in defending their fellow citizens' rights, still less by that of those who have suffered base personal ambition to lead them into schemes of treason and disloyalty under the pretence of redressing grievances. There comes a pitch of tyranny sometimes, it is true, when it is necessary to dare all and to risk all for security, liberty, and repose; but it very, very seldom happens, in the ordinary course of events, that anything can be gained by revolt, which can compensate even for a few days of turbulence, anarchy, or civil war. Nothing of the kind exists at present, or is likely to exist, to justify anything like conspiracy or rebellion. Make your mind easy then, as far as I am concerned; for I can safely promise to avoid everything which can afford even a reasonable cause of suspicion."
"Thank God that it is so," answered Manucci, solemnly; "but ever keep in mind what I have said. Think of it every day. Remember it on every occasion; for I have told you that the peril will come suddenly, and probably, therefore, the temptation also. If you attend to my warning, and thus escape the danger, you will have to thank me for long years afterwards. Therefore now sit down here in my seat, and copy accurately that which is there written. Keep it constantly about you, refer to it often, and thus will you ever be upon your guard."
"If your warning prove effectual," replied Lord Gowrie, "I shall owe you, my dear friend, much indeed; and I only wish you would tell me how I can repay the service."
"Perhaps I may--perhaps I may," said the old man; "but copy that quickly, then we will talk more."
Lord Gowrie sat down to copy the paper; but it occupied him during a longer time than he had imagined, and in the meantime, a little scene had taken place in the kitchen of the house, which ultimately took a direction towards the same subjects which closed his conference with Manucci.
Left alone in the dark, worthy Austin Jute waited with exemplary patience till the old woman who had opened the door, returned with a lamp, and invited him to come and take some supper with her in the kitchen.
"One cannot have too much of a good thing," said the Englishman, for such he was, in his own tongue; "but then again, another proverb says, 'Enough is as good as a feast;' and to speak the truth, I have supped; but 'a full bag is better than an empty sack;' and, for that matter, no one knows when he has had enough, and therefore I cannot be supposed to be a judge in a case of conscience."
This reasoning was addressed to himself rather than to the old lady who stood by his side, listening to all he had to say with an air of the most perfect unconsciousness, waiting for the time when it should be his pleasure to explain himself in Italian.
"Well, ma'am, I will come," he replied, in the latter language, which, by the way, he spoke remarkably well. "My stomach says it would not object to any reasonable quantity of good food, and still less to a cup or two of good wine. I will follow you, and if----"
But the servant, accustomed to see many strange people, and to hear many foreign languages, seemed to comprehend his meaning as much by his looks as his words, and beckoning him to come on before he had ended his sentence, she led the way towards her refectory. The fare she spread before him was not very abundant nor very rich, but it was refreshing, for fruit was ever cheap at Padua, and of such consisted the principal part of their meal. Austin Jute was a man to make himself easily at home wherever he came, and though, to say truth, he might have been well pleased if his companion had been younger and prettier, nevertheless he was soon in full talk with the old woman; and when a little bell rang above for refreshments there, he helped her to arrange the dishes and place the glasses with their long stalks, as willingly and cheerily as if she had been sixteen.
"There now, Tita," he said, as she lifted the tray, "put the other side with the bottles next to you. Always, in life and on a tray, place the load where it is easiest borne. Two hands are enough when we know how to use them, but four are better when work is plenty: so I'll go and open the doors for you, for there seem many in your house."
As may well be supposed, Master Austin was now in high favour with the good dame; for age receives as a boon what youth exacts as a tribute; and when she rejoined him after carrying in the supper, she said, in a low voice, "Well, your lord is certainly one of the handsomest, noblest-looking cavaliers I ever saw; and so frank and friendly in his way. He always speaks to me as if I were an old friend, and not a poor servant."
"Like master, like man, my dear," replied Austin Jute; "birds of a feather flock together. Like sticks to like. That is the reason my master and I are so fond of each other; but I hope there is somebody else fond of him too, for I saw, as you came out, such a beautiful pair of eyes outshining the lamp, that I now understand very well why my lord came back to Padua, and why he used to come hither almost every night when he was here before, with that dull-looking fellow, Martini, after him, like an ill-conditioned cur running at the heels of a fine horse."
"I never liked that man," said the old woman, seating herself on her stool in the kitchen. "I am glad your lord has not brought him to-night."
"He could not bring him if he had wished it," replied Austin; "he would have tumbled to pieces by the way. He was hanged two months ago at Geneva, for robbing a gentleman who was in the same inn with us. My master would never believe he was a rogue till he saw him hanging, though, when he fell out of the ferry-boat into the Po, and floated like a bad egg, I told the noble earl, that he who is born to be hanged will never be drowned. They hanged him at last, however, and made the proverb good."
"I dare say they were quite right," said the old woman, in a moralizing mood; "though people who are set to do justice, often do great injustice. Do you know, they came and wanted to drag my good old master away, who is as honest a man and as good a Christian as any in Padua; and they would have done it, too, and most likely put him to the rack, if it had not been for the courage and kindness of one of your countrymen, a student here, called Hume, and the wit and lightness of the Signora Julia."
"Yes, I heard of all that Signor Hume did," replied Jute, "for he told my master while I was sitting in the ante-room, with nothing but a thin door between; for you know, Tita, though everything is made for one purpose, most of them will serve two. But what did the young lady do?"
"The moment she heard the noise," replied the old woman, "she ran and shut the door across the passage which leads to the study. So they found nothing but some scraps of old papers that were in the room where my poor master was ill in bed; for that door shuts so close that no one can tell it from the wainscot, and having no keyhole, but a spring lock, they thought the passage ended there. If they had got into the study there would have been fine to do, for there are all manner of strange things there, which are as innocent and as holy as the bambino, I will vow; but nobody understands them but my master, and everything people don't understand they think wicked."
This sage and just observation did not lead Austin Jute from the track he was following; for, to say sooth, curiosity was one of his failings, and the sight of so beautiful a face as he had seen in the room above, had stimulated that very ticklish quality till he could not resist it. "Ah, she is a charming creature, I am sure," he said; "it is true, all is not gold that glitters; and handsome is who handsome does. The devil will take an angel's form at times. The frock does not make the monk; but still she looked so sweet and sad, I am sure she is very amiable. Many a one, Donna Tita, looks gay and cheerful, and many a one looks pleasant and merry, and is but a sour devil after all; but it is a good heart that looks sad for other people's sorrows. Besides, my master would not be so fond of her if she were not an angel. But who is she? Is she the old signor's daughter?"
"And is your master so fond of her, then?" said the old woman, without answering his question. "Are you sure he has never been straying after other women, all this long time while he has been away?"
"Not once, upon my word," replied Austin, with a solemn air, laying his hand upon his left breast. "Lord bless you, since he knew the signora, he has become as discreet as a bell-wether. Why, he sent me out of Genoa for six weeks, just for pinching the cheek of Ninette Bar, the daughter of the innkeeper, and putting my lips too near those of Rosalie, the smith's niece. It is true that I had to break the head of Jerome, and whack Rosalie's lover in self-defence; for it came to crabstick. But as for my lord, he passed all his time at the house of an old gentleman called Beza, where fewer women got in than get into a monkery--though he used to have as gay a heart as the gayest once on a time."
"Then why did he go away, and stay away so long, if he is so fond of her?" asked the old lady, who had her own share of curiosity as well as Austin Jute.
"Nay! gads my life! you must ask that of the earl himself," replied the man, "for I am not his father confessor. Perhaps the lady was cold, for you women will have your whimsies. Dear creatures, you would not be half so charming without."
The compliment oblique is almost always sure to go deeper than the direct; and good Tita, though she had long lost any external claims to the title of a charming creature, included herself comfortably in the general category, and felt her heart open towards her companion. "No, no," she answered, "she is not cold--to him, at least; and how should she be, when she scarcely ever saw a young man before? He is not so bad looking either, and a kind heart too; and as for whimsies, dear child, she has none, and never had. She lay in my arms when she was two years old, and that is sixteen years since."
"Upon my life, the old gentleman must have taken to matrimony late in life, to have a daughter of eighteen, when he is eighty," said Austin Jute, laughing.
The shot took effect.
"His daughter, you foolish knave!" cried the old lady, "she is not his daughter!--His daughter's daughter, if you will."
"Well, there would be no great harm in it, if she were his daughter," answered Jute; "so you need not look so angry, my dear; many a man marries at sixty for the consolation of life, or at least of the little bit of life that remains. Better late than never, men say. I would rather come in at the end of the dinner than see no dinner at all. It is never too dark to see one's way, if one has but a lantern; and if we have gone on wrong from the beginning, why should we not try to get right at the end?--And so the young lady's name is not Manucci, after all?"
"Her mother's was," answered Tita. "Poor thing, I remember her well. When she gave the child into my hands," she said, "Take care of her, Tita, for she will soon have no mother to do so, and no father has she ever known."
"Oh, ho!" said Austin Jute, with a peculiar expression of countenance; but the old woman's black eyes flashed fire. "Out, knave!" she said, without allowing him to finish the sentence; "would you slander a saint in heaven?"
The next moment, however, her face resumed its ordinary expression, and she said, "I spoke foolishly. I should have told you, the babe's father died on the day that she was born. The mother never held her head up after; and she kept her word with me too truly; for scarcely four months were gone by, ere we laid her in Campo Santo."
"Poor thing!" said Austin Jute, in so natural a tone of pity, that all remains of anger were banished from Tita's heart. "How did the lady's husband die? Was it in battle or of disease?"
"By the axe, young man--by the axe," replied Tita, sharply; "a plaything with which people in your country sport even more than we do here in Italy--at least I have heard so; for I know nothing of any other land but my own; but I have heard the Signor say that there has been sufficient innocent blood shed upon the scaffold in England and Scotland to bring down a curse upon the country."
"Upon my life, he said true," replied Austin Jute; "for I have seen a few heads roll in my own day, and have always thought it a pity that people cannot find some other means of putting those out of the way who stand in their light, but by cutting them on the back of the neck. Were men's heads no better than turnips, we could not treat them more carelessly than we do in our little island. Poor child, her misfortunes came early; and I hope and trust that she got over them all at once. People must eat black bread, they say, at one time of their life; and it is better to swallow it before we have tasted any other, than to eat the white bread first, and then have the other after."
"God send that it be so with her," said the old woman, "for a dearer, sweeter girl never lived."
"And, after all, what is her name?" said Austin Jute, in that quiet sort of easy tone which so often leads on confidence; but good old Tita answered quietly, with a shrewd glance of the eye, "Julia, to be sure--the Lady Julia. That has been enough for me all my life; and it should be enough for you too, I think."
"Enough is as good as a feast," answered Austin Jute; but as he saw he could gain no more information he dropped the subject, and began to wonder at the length of his lord's visit.