CHAPTER LII. ON THE CHIAJA AT NIGHT
The night had just closed in after a hot sultry day of autumn in Naples, as Maitland and Caffarelli sat on the sea-wall of the Chiaja, smoking their cigars in silence, apparently deep in thought, or sometimes startled by the distant shouts and cries of the populace who crammed the Toledo or the Quarter of St Lucia; for all Naples was now in the streets, and wild songs and yells resounded on every side.
In the bay the fleet lay at anchor; but the rapid flash of lanterns, as they rose and fell in the riggings, showed that the signalman was at work, and that messages were being transmitted and replied to throughout the squadron. A like activity seemed to prevail in the forts above the city, and the roll of the drum and the bugle-call occasionally could be heard overtopping all other sounds.
“What would a newly come traveller say to all this?” said Caffarelli, at last. “Would he think it was a city about to be attacked by an enemy, or would he deem it a town in open revolt, or one given up to pillage after the assault? I have seen to-night what might confirm any of these impressions.”
“And all three are present,” said Maitland, moodily. “Your traveller could scarcely be more puzzled than we are.”
The other sighed wearily, and Maitland went on. “What do you trust, or whom? Is it those noisy legions up there, who only muster to disband; or that gallant fleet that has come to anchor, only the more easily to surrender and change its flag?”
“There may be some traitors, but the great majority, I 'll swear, will stand by the King.”
“No; not one in fifty,—not one in a hundred. You don't seem to apprehend that loyalty is not a sudden instinct. It is a thing a man inherits. Take my word for it, Carlo, these men will not fight to keep a certain set of priests around a bigoted old Queen, or support a King whose highest ambition is to be a Jesuit.”
“And if you thought so meanly of the cause, why have you adopted it?”
“Because, ill as I think of the Court, I hate the rabble more. Remember, Carlo,”—and now he spoke in a rapid and marked tone,—“remember that, when I joined you, I deemed myself a rich man, and I had my ambitions, like the rest of you. Had I known what I now know,—had I foreseen that the day was so near wherein I was to find myself a beggar—”