“You are a strange fellow, Ravitzky, and I scarcely understand you.”
“And yet there is nothing less a mystery than my conduct or my motives,” rejoined he, proudly. “My father is a noble, high in the service and confidence of the Emperor, and although a Magyar by birth, is Austrian by choice and predilection. My sympathies are with my countrymen. In obedience to his wishes I have entered this service; in justice to myself, I mean to quit it when I can with honor.”
“And for what, or where?” asked Frank.
“Who knows?” said he, sorrowfully. “Many of our nation have gone over the seas in search of a new land. Already we are almost as destitute of a home as the Poles. But why talk of these things, Herr Lieutenant? I may be led to say that which it would be your duty to report; you ought, perhaps, as it is, to denounce me. Have no fears; my life would always be spared; my family's fidelity would save me. This is one of the glorious privileges of birth,” cried he, scornfully. “The 'fusillade' will be the sentence for one of those poor fellows yonder; but you and I are too well born for justice to reach.”
“Assuredly, I 'll not quarrel with the privilege!” said Frank, laughing.
“And yet, if I were as rich and as great as you are,” said Ravitzky, “it is exactly what I should do! With your fortune and your rank you want nothing from king or kaiser. Who, then, would not strive for the higher rewards that only a whole nation can confer?”
Frank blushed deeply at the allusion to his supposed wealth, but had not the courage to refute it. He, however, sought an opportunity to turn the conversation to other channels, and avoided, for the future, all mention of every theme of politics or party. The mischief, however, was done. He brooded forever in secret over all the Hungarian had told him; while old memories of fresh wrongs, as narrated by his father long ago, kept recurring and mingling with them, till not only the themes excluded other thoughts, but that he felt the character of his own ambition changing, and new and very different hopes succeeding to his former ones.
CHAPTER XIV. THE SKIRMISH.
At last they reached the summit of the Stelvio, and began the descent of the mountain; and what a glorious contrast does the southern aspect of an Alpine range present to the cold barrenness of the north! From the dreary regions of snow, they came at length to small patches of verdure, with here and there a stunted pine-tree. Then the larches appeared, their graceful feathery foliage checkering the sunlight into ten thousand fanciful shapes; while streams and rivulets bubbled and rippled on every side,—not icebound as before, but careering along in glad liberty, and with the pleasant music of falling water. Lower down, the grass was waving as the wind moved on, and cattle were seen in herds revelling in the generous pasture, or seeking shelter beneath the deep chestnut-trees; for, already, even here, the Italian sun was hot. Lower again came dark groves of olives and trellised vines; long aisles of leafy shade traversing the mountain in every direction, now curving in graceful bends, now in bold zigzags, scaling the steep precipices, and sometimes hanging over cliffs and crags, where not even the boldest hand would dare to pluck the ruddy bunches.