"'I was placed here to hold this post,' was the gallant reply; 'and till I receive orders from my leader to quit it, here I am bound to remain. It is his office to command, and mine to obey.'
"The men," continued Raphael with emotion, "were not inspired by their captain's heroism. False to their trust, one by one they deserted their banners. A single brave man remained firm as a rock at the post of duty; where my father had planted his colors, there he fought, and there—he fell!"
"And did not your king reward such generous devotion by caring for the fatherless children of such a man?" exclaimed Horace, as Raphael with a deep sigh closed his brief account.
"Earthly princes do not resemble Him who keeps a record of every act of obedience," replied Raphael. "There were a few words of praise, a ribbon, and a cross, and then all appeared to be forgotten. My brother and I might have starved in the streets of Naples but for the kindness of our mother's father, a physician, who supported and educated us for the sake of a daughter whose loss he yet mourned.
"Enrico became weary of the monotony and restraint of the life which he led in the good old man's home. He spent much of his time away from it, and became acquainted with some who made no good use of the influence which they acquired over his generous and confiding nature.
"When I had reached the age of fifteen, my grandfather died; I was with him at the last, received his parting blessing, and closed his eyes. All my earthly comfort was buried in his grave. I will not dwell on the events of the following year."
Raphael chose not to unveil to the eye of a stranger scenes of riot and selfish profusion in the house which the memory of a venerable relative had to him rendered sacred. He would not relate how Enrico had recklessly squandered his young brother's inheritance as well as his own, exposing the orphan left to his guidance to the contamination of such society as might have ruined his soul as well as his fortunes. Raphael was tender of the reputation of a brother whom he yet loved with the strength of that affection which can bear all, hope all, endure all. But though the Rossignol purposely left out all the darker shades of the picture, Horace had already seen enough of Enrico to fill up the outlines for himself. After a brief pause, Raphael continued his narration:
"I was sleeping one night in my chamber, when I was startled from slumber by the sudden entrance of my brother. It was the hour before dawn, when darkness is deepest; I could not see his face, but I was alarmed by the grasp of his icy hand, and the strange, altered tone of his voice.
"'Raphael,' he exclaimed, 'we must fly! I am a ruined man! The bloodhounds are already on my track!'
"I found afterwards that my unfortunate brother had been mixed up in a night brawl, in which a man of high rank had been killed, and that Enrico was suspected—falsely suspected—" Raphael laid strong emphasis on the word—"of having dealt the fatal blow. Enrico had no means of proving his innocence; he had little money left, and no friends. He had been the victim of men more unscrupulous and reckless than himself, who were willing to screen their own guilt by sacrificing their dupe.