Daniele Cortis. A novel. Translated from the Italian ... by S. L. Simeon

Chapter I. Wind, Rain, And Chatter

The balls knocked together sharply, twice over. "Tac, tac," said Count Perlotti, watching them atten tively, with the chalk in his right hand, and his cue in his left. "Bless my soul!" exclaimed the senator, "what cues you have, Countess Tarquinia. This one has no top to it. 'It is impossible to play." "That is the twelfth," said the countess, in a low voice, to a group of ladies. "My dear son-in-law," she added, stretching her arms, " I keep on writing for some to be sent to me." He turned to Countess Perlotti, who smiled quietly, as she stood watching the weather through the glass door. "All very well," he grumbled. "This is the twentieth time I am told that. Does she want me to make the cues myself ? " "What weather," answered the lady prudently. "It is enough to frighten one." Iu front of the glass door the great dead cypress, en veloped in wisteria to its top, raised the bright green of its burden to the sombre sky; an occasional drop of rain splashed on the gravel.

A "Yes, indeed, signora. It is enough to frighten one That is the right word." These remarks came as a chorus from four or five men and some ladies, in all their finery, who seemed very stiff and ill at ease at the great honour of being received in the house of Countess Tarquinia Carre. " Six to me ! " shouted the senator. " How many ? " inquired an invisible person. " Six, six, six ; are you deaf ? " "No, but those priests ! Listen to them." " Yes, indeed, they must be having an orgie. Do send and keep them quiet, Countess Tarquinia." The priests, who were playing at cards in a room overhead, were screaming and shouting. "My dear Grigioli," said the countess to a young man who was seated on a sofa, talking to the Baroness Elena Carrfe di Santa Giulia,_ "be so good as to go and ask those reverend gentleman, very nicely, not to make such a noise."

The latter bowed. " By-the-bye," said the countess to him quietly, "you know I expect great things of you ! " " In what, countess ? " "Where is your head ? Cortis." " Oh, he will be all right, countess. Fifty votes certain ; here. I was just saying so to Baroness Elena." "Please, my dear friend, do not talk of these things to my daughter, who does not know which is right and which left. Go up to those priests now — Where is Cortis?" she said to her daughter, when the young man had left her. "Go, go, young man, and silence those priests," said the senator to Grigiolo, as he passed through the billiard-room. " Tell them to take a lesson from these other gentlemen. Silence, Don Bartolo ! ' At the far end of the large room, near another glass door, a group of men were discussing some apparently mysterious and important question.

One of them called out : "Doctor Grigiolo ! " " What is it ? " answered the young man. " I am coming in a minute," and he went on. " Is that boy a doctor of medicine ? " asked the senator of his companion. " No, signore, a doctor of law," replied the other respect fully. The priests had finished their game. The chaplain, Don Bartolo, was reciting some verses from a paper which he had in his hand, amid the shouts of laughter of his col leagues. "Excuse me, Don Bartolo," said the ambassador. " Come in, doctor," replied Don Bartolo. " Come in, pray, and listen to this : " ' The syndic replied he wap quite in lhe right. "No, excuse me." " But you must listen to this." Doctor Grigiolo decided, with a shudder, to listen to an other verse, which ended thus : " ( Ami the syndic replied that again he was right.' " " Very good ; but permit me."

" Forgive me, why won't you listen ? I am just coming to the best part." Don Bartolo, excited by several glasses, continued to re cite his anonymous satire, of which the subject was a wrangle between some common councilmen and a syndic, who said that they were each right in turn. " The syndic remained with his bead in tbe air, And at last he replied that none was wrong there." At these lines the audience was convulsed with laughter. " Good, very good, excellent," exclaimed Doctor Grigiolo in spite of himself ; "but, my very dear chaplain, I don't see any necessity or breaking the drums of your neigh bours' ears. You see there are a good many ladies down stairs, and the countess begs you — " " Women ? " answered Don Bartolo. " But women can make noise enough too ! " " Be quiet ; let us go away ; do be quiet, chaplain," said his friends.

"Thank you, now I must go downstairs again. Be sides, for the sake of Count Lao, who is not well." Doctor Grigiolo looked at the oldest priest in the room with a face which was half laughing and half serious. "Come here," shouted the incorrigible Don Bartolo, " come here, doctor, and don't be off after those women again. Stay and have a glass with us. Why did you men tion Count Lao ? You know perfectly well that his rooms are on the other side of the house. Don't you know, too, that he is in better health than you or I ? Don't you know that he is mad ?" "Do silence Don Bartolo," shouted the senator from downstairs. "Can they have heard what you said?" asked Doctor Grigiolo in terror. " That man will be after us with his cue." " Heavens ! " ejaculated the chaplain. His disappearance, and his comic anguish, raised such unbridled hilarity amongst the others that Grigiolo fled with his hands to his head, while Don Bartolo, who had recovered himself, began to read the end of the poem, a speech to the electors : — "Choose you the man who seems to you least evil.

And banish all the others to the devil.'' " So you failed, Grigioli ! " cried Countess Tarquinia in the distance. Another voice from among the conspirators said, — " Come here, Doctor Grigiolo." The latter answered : " In a minute," and was going on, when Baron Di Santa Giulia stopped him with a heavy hand, and exclaimed in his voice of thunder, — " Answer ! Are you Grigioli or Grigiolo ? " The pleasant-looking, slender youth jumped, took one step backward, and gazed at the senator as he might have gazed at Attila. "In reality it is Grigioli," he replied, "but the people — " " All, the people ! I understand," said the baron. " So you failed to silence Bartolo." " Impossible, senator. Quite impossible, countess. Your white wine is too strong. It would take a pump and plenty of water to quiet him.

We are just going to have a deluge." " Do you think so ?" *' Yes, countess." "Don't you think the clouds are lifting?" " I don't see it, countess." " Have you really looked ? " " Yes, I really have, countess." " And you cannot see it ? " " No, I really cannot, countess." "How many more times 'countess?'" muttered the senator, leaning over the billiard-table and practising a stroke, his eyes fixed on his adversary's ball. •' It is the custom, baron," answered Perlotti humbly, standing opposite him. ■' Now do be off; the electors are expecting you," said the countess to Grigiolo, giving him a slight push. He was bored with the election, and would much rather have staved where he was. Then the countess turned to her guests and said : " I wager that this storm will come to nothing." And immediately there rose a chorus of obsequious voices.

" I quite think so, too. I am sure you are right. It will not be anything." At the same moment a peal of thunder made every window rattle. " Hulloa ! " exclaimed the senator, throwing down his cue on to the billiard-table. " Good heavens ! " ejaculated the countess. " The windows upstairs !" and she rushed to the bell. A young lady, who now opened her lips for the first time, began to groan. "What darkness!" shouted Grigiolo. "It is coming from here, countess, if you wish to see it." A tremendous gust of wind rushed through an open door, blowing the curtains about and scattering papers and letters as it tore round the billiard-room. As Perlotti went toshut thedoor,the parish priest rushed out intothestorm. "Is the priest mad?" exclaimed Perlotti, through the half-closed door. " They will want me to bless the storm," answered the priest, holding on his hat, while the tails of his coat fluttered in the wind.

The storm, coming from behind the mountains on the west, had gone round to the south. The black clouds which had collected on the summit of grey Rumano, threatened to overwhelm the wooded base of the mountain ; and the poor, scattered cottages, the newly-mown fields in front of the Villa Carre were touched by a sinister light. Countess Tarquinia, the Perlottis, and the rest of the party were huddled together at the end of the room, wdiich looked south. " Nasty weather," said old Picuti the lawyer. " I am thinking of my corn," exclaimed Signor Zirisela, one of the chief proprietors of the district. "And the grapes," added his wife. The priests had not stirred from the room, where they were making more noise than ever, as if to deaden the thunder and the wind which raged round the house, and scattered branches and leaves about the garden.

Baroness Elena alone did not seem to be disturbed by the storm. Leaning against the back of the sofa, she stood, with her head inclined forward on to her breast, and her arms tightly crossed, as though she were cold. Her large black eyes watched the branches of the young fir-trees in the garden, unceasingly shaken by the wind. From her grave and statuesque immobility, one might have thought that in those waving branches she saw some phantom, and that some voice, inaudible to the others, was speaking to her from them. Suddenly a downpour of rain beat with fury against the windows and the walls, hiding from view the sky, the mountains and the fir-trees, and appearing to lighten up all the doors and windows of the dark room. She heard Countess Tarquinia say in a loud voice : " Daniele has taken root up there.

I must go aud see what is happening." She stopped near her daughter, and said to her, in a low and complaining tone, — " You leave me entirely alone, Elena ; you do not help me in the least. I suppose your husband does not wish you to ? " The baroness scarcely raised her head, and, without looking at her mother, replied, — " My husband does not trouble himself about me." Her voice was somewhat grave, but very melodious, and she spoke in a tone of careless indifference, as of one who is buried in his own thoughts, and who, on being distracted from them for a moment, merely gives an answer with his lips, so as not to disturb their current, and then turns to rest in them once more. " That is true," answered the countess. " Oh, how tiresome, Elena ! Here is your mother," ex claimed the always amiable Perlotti, suddenly appearing at her side.

" And just as I was coming to make love to you, too ! " She raised her eyes. " Do join the rest of the party, Elena; do go and look after them," insisted her mother. " Poor thing, she is so bored with them ; small blame to her ! " observed Perlotti caressingly, and in a melancholy voice. " It is all right, Sofia is there," said the baroness. " My wife ? Yes ; but she is not the hostess." "No more am I." With this answer, given somewhat disdainfully, Elena rose and joined the guests. " I am afraid, my dear Tarquinia, that you will have to house all these people for the night," said Perlotti in the ear of the countess, gently leaning his hand upon her arm. She was still a handsome woman, and very well dressed. " Heaven forbid ! I have a feeling of Christian charity for all of them, and they come to my house twice a year ; but I hope to have done with them this evening !"

" I hope you will put me with that pretty little fair woman, Ziriseta, Zirisela — what is her name ? " " You wretch ! " said the countess, turning away laughing. " I am going up to Lao," and she moved away, followed by a laugh from Perlotti. She stopped at the far end of the room, near a door leading to the staircase. " At last ! " she said ; " how did you find him ? " " Sad," answered a masculine voice. " That is nothing new ! He is only ill because he eats and sleeps, and passes hour after hour in reading and playing. I do not say that he may not suffer sometimes, but he pays a great deal too much attention to himself. The doctor says that he must be kept amused. Well, we must do our best. But if you knew, dear, how hard it is to keep others amused ! If you knew how disgusted I feel sometimes, and how I struggle to hide it !

" " Disgusted, aunt ? " The countess was silent, bit her lips, and swallowed a sob. " Nothing, nothing," she answered nervously, closing her eyes, in which the tears were shining. " You will not go away in this storm ? Bravo, then do go and look after some of these people for me." She went upstairs, and he to whom she had been talking entered the room just as all the ladies were turning away from watching the storm, and were settling them selves on the sofa and the row of chairs between the billiard-table and the west door. Elena came round out side the chairs, in order to pass near him, and she whispered to him, — " Thank you, Daniele, for having stayed so long with my uncle." Cortis pressed her hand without speaking. Elena looked at him closely, and started. " Is anything wrong ? " she asked.

" A grave matter," he answered. " Here is our candidate," shouted the baron. " These gentlemen all want to know if you will bark at Tunis, and bite the ministry." The baron looked like an old Norman brigand, with his big person, his long yellow beard, and his loud voice. " What have we to do with Tunis ? We don't care about Tunis," said Checco Zirisela, a patriot who was afraid of nobody. " We are not in Sicily." " Long live Italy ! " answered the senator. " Think of that, all of you." And he turned away. " Let him go, that trombone," muttered Doctor Grigiolo. " Signor Cortis," said he to the new-comer, " our friends here, who belong to this division, would be glad to say a few words to you." Daniele Cortis turned towards his friends who, leaning against the door in an attitude which, although respect ful, scarcely concealed the consciousness of their power, were watching the man as he came forward into the watery light.

He was tall and slim, his well-cut features were remarkable for their dignity and soldierly resolu tion, and his blue eyes were open and intelligent. " It is nothing," said Doctor Picuti, who always began his gravest speeches with these words ; " it is nothing. Here we are all of one mind, you know, but it sometimes happens that we talk to our friends from other divisions. I, for example, or my friend Zirisela." " Quite true," said the latter, encouraging his friend to continue. " Well, then, I say that we two and some others are often frequently obliged to go amongst people belonging to other divisions, and there we hear it said that you are but little known (they are ignorant people, and one can not help that), and that they have no idea as to your opinions on certain questions ; so that we think it would be well that you should, either by means of a speech, or by means of the press, I don't know if I make myself clear — " " They want a programme," said the baron, in a some what modulated tone, from the end of the room.

" They are quite right. Who ever heard of a candidate without a programme ? It is like a house without a front to it." "That is better than having so many fronts without houses, or programmes without men behind them," said his wife hastily. " Is it true, Elena, that your cousin is called Daniele Volveno?" asked Countess Sofia Perlotti suddenly. " Yes," answered Elena drily. "What ridiculous names you people have here !" ex claimed the baron. " It is not a name of our Veneto country, baron," an swered Signora Perlotti. " It is a name of Friuli. Signor Cortis comes from Friuli." " Of course, I know that ! And, pray, where is Friuli, if not in the Veneto ? Pretty geography you are teach ing me." The lady bit her lips. " I am sorry," she said, " but: — " Here her husband thought it advisable to go and flatten his nose against the window, exclaiming, — " Oh, do look here !

Look here ! Is not this Malcanton coming ? " They saw an umbrella slowly advancing under the drip ping fir-trees. Every one rushed to the window except the baron and his wife. "Yes, it is certainly he ! Countess, here comes Mal canton ! " " Bless my heart," exclaimed the countess, re-entering at that moment, " I had forgotten all about him." She had sent this Malcanton a few hours previously to do some commissions. " I had entirely forgotten him. But what an object he is. He looks like a drowned rat." She opened the door, put on her most amiable voice, and putting out her head, cried to him : "Quick, quick ! Do come in ! " Signor Malcanton came in, and shook himself like a spaniel, holding the umbrella with outstretched arm, while the countess groaned. " Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! I have been in such distress about you all this time.

How drenched you are ! I am so sorry ! Quick, somebody, go and order some hot brandy and-water." "I have done everything !" answered the poor spaniel. " I have seen Signor Momi and Signora Ca tina. I have engaged the band, and telegraphed for the fireworks." " And taken in plenty of water into the bargain," roared the baron, who was seated behind the others, on the billiard-table, with his legs dangling, Every one laughed, except Malcanton, who stared at him open-mouthed. " Thank you, thank you a thousand times ; but, now, do go upstairs," said the countess, suppressing her laughter. " Elena, go to your uncle, and, on your way, see about that brandy-and-water." " By-the-bye," continued Malcanton, "I have written for that book about the laven-tennis, and I have asked how it should be pronounced."

" Laan-tennis," said Countess Perlotti. " Loon, loon ! " bellowed the baron. "Whether it be loan, or loon, I still say laven," maintained Malcanton. "But we shall soon hear." Countess Tarquinia had ordered a set of lawn-tennis, the first which had been seen in the neighbourhood. Nobody knew how to play, and every one pronounced it differently; but all the same, there was the lawn-tennis at Villa Carre. Even at the Italia, the cafe in the town, they had discussed at great length whether it should be laan or loon. " Now, if you will allow me," concluded Malcanton, and he disappeared behind the baroness, while the senator said in a marked voice, — " So you are going to have great doings here, Countess Tarquinia?" "Too great," muttered the wretched Malcanton to his companion, to whom he ostentatiously talked as though she were still a child.

"Do you not think, Elena, that such a washing — " But she did not wait to listen to him ; she flew up the stairs, forgetting all about the brandy, and entered the large empty room on the second floor. She heard the con fused voices of the priests, the senator and the rest of the company rise indistinctly, and the rain seemed to repeat to her, in a deep bass voice: "A grave matter." She crossed the room slowly, with her eyes fixed on the door of the room in which Daniele had spent so much time. A grave matter ! She knocked twice gently at the door; a loud voice answered, " Come in."

Chapter II

A GRAVE MATTER. " Come in," said Count Lao, "and shut the door quickly, for there is an infernal draught. So you've come at last ! And what a damnable row those priests are making : to think that I can't get at them with a stick ! What in the world does your mother mean by asking priests here? They are all drunk already ! What wine did she give them, the goose?' Elena, very "seriously, made hima deepcurtsey,andsaid, — " I will go and enquire, count." " Ah, you naughty child," he exclaimed, recovering his temper, " come here. She came up to me ten minutes ago, as fresh as a rose, to ask me if I wanted anything. She must have lost her senses. As if I wanted anything, with this hurly-burly resounding all through the house. I told her I wished she would send them all to the deuce. But I don't believe you are listening to me.

They seem not to think I have troubles enough as it is, and they want to deafen me into the bargain. Will you come in ? What are you standing at the door for ? Why are you staring at me ? Am I pale ? Am I green or yellow ? Do I look like a dead man ? " " No, no, uncle ; you look like a bear in a rage." " A white bear ? " " No, a grey bear, uncle." Instead of replying, Count Ladislao drew a looking-glass from his pocket, and approached the window. " Oh, no," he said, " I am not pale, or only verv little." But he was pale, and his pallor was heightened by two large black eyes and a black beard, which, though short, was very thick, by a high yellowish forehead, scarcely covered by bristly hair. He turned his back to his niece, and looked at his tongue. " You are looking very well, uncle," said she, " you are really, so you may be quite happy."

Her uncle turned round sharply, and drew himself up. " If only I were not ill," he said. He was tall and well-made ; a large, shapely nose did not spoil his face, which was partly sentimental and partly comic. " If only you did not think you were ill," said Elena. " So, I think, do I ! This life amuses me, does it ? I enjoy being unable to digest anything by day, or to sleep by night, do I ? I enjoy being in pain from January to December, I suppose ! Do you hear those abominable priests ? Perhaps I enjoy that, too ! Hold your tongue ; come and play me that symphony of Corelli's." He seated himself in an arm-chair behind a table, in the darkest corner of the room, the farthest from the door and from the three windows. Close beside him the upright piano, which stood against the wall, was open.

" I can't see, uncle." " Never mind ; you know it by heart." She began to hum the melody in a sweet, resonant voice, full of feeling. " I don't feel in the humour to play to-night." " Why not ? " Elena made no answer. Seated between the window and the writing-table, she watched him fidgeting with an open book that lay aslant on the very edge of the table. Count Lao evidently interpreted her silence in his own fashion, for he did not insist, but lighted a cigarette. "The fault is not with me, certainly," said he, throwing the match into the ash-tray. "What fault, uncle?" Count Lao leaned his arm on the table, and watched the match as it burned itself out. "That we have come to this," he said. Elena did not understand. "This English poet is not worth much!" exclaimed Count Lao, as though to break the thread of disagreeable thoughts.

"He is worth very little ! He is full of non sensical ideas. I expected as much. The idea of Heaven being rendered seven times more divine by the assumption of Mazzini ! Rubbish ! " " To what have we come, uncle ? " asked Elena, rising. She came and sat down on the music-stool near him. " Where is your head ? " answered Lao. " Tell me, were they playing at billiards a short time ago before the storm?" " Yes." " Was your husband playing ? " " Yes, he and Perlotti." " He is a philosopher ! " He remained in thought for a moment, then suddenly jumping up, he threw away his cigarette, and went and laid his hands on either side of Elena's head; she, with a movement of involuntary pride, tried to free herself. " Look here," said he, pulling her head forward till it rested on his chest, "you have a great scoundrel for a husband."

He placed his lips on her hair, and whispered : " I will be even with him ! " Elena contemptuously shook herself free from his embrace, and looked at him with glittering eyes. " Do you know that you pain me by saying such things?" she said. " Do you know that they offend me ? I knew about my husband before I married him. I allowed him to be engaged to me before I married him. Think what you please, but say nothing. He has never deceived me ; he has always been the same. It would be dishonourable in me to allow you to say such things to me." She turned her back upon him, and looked out of the window, while her uncle continued angrily, — " All very fine ! very fine ! But nobody knows that you were little better than a child ! Nobody knows how you were forced into it ! " "No, I was not forced!" answered Elena, turning sharply round.

" Mamma pressed me a little at first, perhaps, but poor, dear papa always repeated up to the last moment : ' Remember that you are free ; remember that there is still time !' But he need not have said that, because I was not a child. I was nineteen years old, and I quite understood what I was about." " Well, then, why in the world did you consent ? I vow that, if I had been in your place, I would not have done it." " Oh, uncle ! " she said proudly. She disdained to speak, to admit that she had accepted the first husband offered to her, because certain intrigues carried on by her mother had been distasteful to her. "And now," she exclaimed, "of what new monstrosity has my husband been guilty ? I know he has asked you for a little of your money. Is it ou that account that mamma has a fit of the blues, and you are in convulsions ?

" " Body of Bacchus ! " exclaimed Lao, turning round and slowly bowing his head towards some imaginary beings, some invisible judges of appeal, " I leave it in your hands." He raised his hands, and let them fall heavily again by his sides. " Let us say no more about it," he remarked, and seat ing himself at the piano, as if he had nothing more to do with the matter, he began to strum a noisy polka, muttering to himself as he played : " You have been well brought up, indeed ! Upon my word, you have ! A little of your money ! What would be the use of that ? A little B money, alas ! Well brought up ! By Diana ! a fine education !" " Calm yourself, calm yourself uncle," said Elena ; " how foolish you are this evening. I have never seen you like this before." "Dance, my child, dance !" said the count sarcastically.

" Don't you see that I am playing for you ? Dance, my treasure ! What do you need to worry about money for ! Dance, and be happy." " What nonsense, uncle. Do you wish me to torture my self for the sake of this money ? Do be quiet. Your music is tiresome, you know." The count seized with both hands the music-stool upon which he had been sitting, and swung himself completely round. "Oh, I know all about it," said he, "you want me to stop, so that you may give me your views. It does not matter to you that your husband, after having gambled away your money as well as his own, wants ours to gamble with, too ! It does not matter to you that he comes swaggering here, pretending to claim money that he has no right to, saying that you scatter money right and left — ' " Perhaps I do," said Elena, coldly.