Diverging from the high-road, they now entered a pathway which led through the vineyards and the olive groves, and, being narrow, Gerald found himself side by side with the Marquise, without any other near. Here, at length, his curiosity mastered all reserve, and plucking up courage for the effort, he said—
‘If my presumption were not too bold, madame, I would deem it a great favour to be permitted to ask you something of this Signor Gabriel. I know and feel that, do what I will, reason how I may, reject what I can, yet still his words have eaten down deep into my heart; and if I cannot put some antidote there against their influence, that they will sway me even against myself,’
‘First, let me hear how he represented himself to you. Was he as a good man grossly tricked and cheated by the world, his candour imposed on, his generosity betrayed? Did he picture a noble nature basely trifled with?’
‘No, no,’ broke in Gerald; ‘he said, indeed, at first he felt disposed to like his fellow-men, but that the impulse was unprofitable; that the true philosophy was unbelief. Still he avowed that he devoted himself to every indulgence; that happiness meant pleasure, pleasure excess; that out of the convulsive throes of the wildest debauchery, great and glorious sensations, ennobling thoughts spring—just as the volcano in full eruption throws up gold amid the lava: and he bade me, if I would know myself, to taste of this same existence.’
‘Poor boy, these were trying temptations,’
‘Not so,’ broke in Gerald proudly; ‘I wanted to be something better and greater than this,’
‘And what would you be?’ asked the Marquise, as she turned a look of interest on him.
‘Oh, if a heart’s yearning could do it,’ cried Gerald warmly, ‘I would be like him who rides yonder; I would be one whose words would give voice to many an unspoken emotion—who could make sad men hopeful, and throw over the dreariest waste of existence the soft, mild light of ideal happiness.’
She shook her head, half-sorrowfully, and said, ‘Genius is the gift of one, or two, or three, in a whole century!’ ‘Then I would be a soldier,’ cried the boy; ‘I would shed my blood for a good cause. A stout heart and a strong arm are not rare gifts, but they often win rare honours.’
‘Count Alfieri has been thinking about you,’ said she, in a tone half confidential. ‘He told me that, if you showed a disposition for it, he would place you at the University of Sienna, where you could follow your studies until such time as a career should present itself.’