"No fear of that; it is not worth stealing," replied the girl. "If it has been bestowed on every country girl you meet, it must be well nigh worn out by this time. As to the apparel, it belongs to us, now. That sweet lady's case was much of the same sort as this one's. She fled from a hard father at Venice, and came hither to meet her lover, and fly with him to Bergamo; but, by some mischance, it was nine whole days before he found her, and all that time we hid her close, though the pursuers tracked her almost to our door. We used to sit with her, too, and comfort her, and talk of love, and how fortune often favoured it at last, after having crossed it long. At the end of the nine days, the young marquis came and found her; but as they were obliged to fly for their lives on horseback, the coffre was left behind; and when she got home and was married, she wrote to bid us keep it for her love, and divide the contents between us. They are not garments fit for such as we are; long black robes, which would cover our feet and ankles, and trail upon the ground, mantles and hoods, and veils of Venice lace. We cut up one velvet cloak, to make us bodices for holidays, but that is all we have taken yet; and we can well spare the lady garments enough for her journey, and more becoming her than those which now she wears."
This was very satisfactory news to the young Earl of Gowrie, when his friend joined him at supper, after parting from the two gay girls above, with an adieu better suited to the manners of that day than to our notions in the present times. As soon as supper was over, he hastened with his friend and Julia to conclude the bargain for the contents of the Venetian lady's coffre; and, to say truth, though good-humoured, lively, and kind-hearted, the innkeeper's two daughters showed a full appreciation of that with which they were parting, and did not suffer it to go below its value. To make up, however, for this little trait of interestedness, Maria and Bianchina set instantly to work with needles and thread and scissors, to make the garments fit their new owner; and leaving Julia with them, after a whispered petition that she would join him soon in the gardens, the earl went down again to the eating room, purposing at once to enter in explanation with Mr. Rhind, in order to save grave looks or admonitions for the future.
He found his former tutor, however, sound asleep, worn out with the fatigues and anxieties of the day, and soothed to slumber by a hearty supper and a stoup of as good wine as the village could afford.
"Faith, Gowrie," said Sir John Hume, "I could well nigh follow old Rhind's example; but I may as well stroll through the village first, and see what is going on. There is nothing like keeping watch and ward. Will you come?"
The earl, however, declined, and strolled out into the gardens, which extended to the banks of that little river which, taking its rise somewhat above Nonantola, joins the Po not much higher up than Occhiobello.
CHAPTER IX.
The moon was clear in the heaven, the skies in which she shone were of that deep intense blue which no European land but Italy or Spain can display; there was an effulgence in her light, which mingled the rays with the deep blue woof of the night heavens so strongly, that the stars themselves seemed vanquished in the strife for the empire of the sky, and looked out but faint and feeble.
In a small arbour covered with vines, on the bank of the stream, sat the lady Julia and her lover. The bright rays of the orb of night floated lightly on the water, changing the dark flowing mass into liquid silver, while a hazy light poured through the olive, the fig, and the vine, giving a faint mysterious aspect to the innumerable trees, and enlivening various spots upon the dull, cold, gray earth, with the yellow radiance of the queen of night.
I believe it is as fruitless as difficult to try to analyse the feelings of the human heart, when that heart is strongly moved by the impulses implanted in it by nature, called into activity by accidental and concurring circumstances. That nature has laid down a rule, and that the heart always acts upon it with more or less energy, according to its original powers, I do strongly believe; but it seems to me fruitless, or at all events but little beneficial, to investigate why certain bosoms, especially those of southern climates, are moved by more warm and eager feelings than others. The operation of man's mind and of his heart are as yet mysteries; and no one who has ever written upon the subject has done more than take the facts as they found them, without at all approaching the causes. We talk of eager love; we speak of the warm blood of the south; we name certain classes of our fellow-beings, excitable, and others, phlegmatic; but we ourselves little understand what we mean when we apply such terms, and never try to dive into the sources of the qualities or the emotions we indicate. We ask not how much is due to education, how much to nature; and never think of the immense sum of co-operating causes which go to form that which is in reality education. Is man or woman merely educated by the lessons of a master, or the instructions and exhortations of a parent? Are not the acts we witness, the words we hear, the scenes with which we are familiar, parts of our education? Is not the Swiss or the Highlander of every land educated in part by his mountains, his valleys, his lakes, his torrents? Is not the inhabitant of cities subjected to certain permanent impressions by the constant presence of crowds and the everlasting pressure of his fellow-men? Does not the burning sun, the arid desert, the hot blast, teach lessons never forgotten, and which become part of nature to one class of men; and frozen plains, and lengthened winters, and long nights, other lessons to the natives of a different region? Give man what instruction you will, by spoken words or written signs, there is another education going on for ever, not only for individuals, but for nations, in the works of God around them, and in the circumstances with which his will has encompassed their destiny.
Perhaps no two people upon earth had ever been educated more differently than the two who sat together in that garden, and yet, strange to say, in the character of each had been produced traits which, while they left a strong distinction, disposed to the most perfect harmony. Gowrie, born amidst rich and wild scenery, had passed his earliest days in troublous and perilous events. Constant activity, manly exercises, dangerous sports, and wild adventures, had been alternated with calm study; and acting on a mind of an inquiring and philosophic turn, and a frame naturally robust, had increased and early matured the powers of each. Thus had passed his days to the age of seventeen, and then a perfect change had taken place in his course of life. Removed to Padua, he had devoted himself for some years solely to the cultivation of his understanding; and had followed eagerly, and with extraordinary success, inquiries not alone into the lore of ancient days, but into those physical sciences which were then known but to a few, and often perilous to the possessor. Love had come at length to complete the education of the heart, just when the education of body and mind was accomplished.