James De Mille

“ But at last Dacres staked every thing on the issue, and asked it:
"Arethusa! oh, Arethusa! do you—do you love—the—the Italian?"
"The Italian!" said Mrs. Willoughby—"love the Italian! me!" and then in a moment she thought that this was his delirium, and she must humor it. "Poor fellow!" she sighed again; "how he fought them! and no doubt he has had fearful blows on his head."
"Do you? do you? Oh, answer, I implore you!" cried Dacres.
"No!" said Mrs. Willoughby, solemnly. "I hate him as I never hated man before." ”

“ Willoughby.
"What's the matter, Kitty dearest?"
"Another man!" groaned her sister.
"Well, and how could I help it?" said Minnie. "I'm sure I didn't want him. I'm sure I think he might have let me alone. I don't see why they all act so. I wish they wouldn't be all the time coming and saving my life. If people will go and save my life, I can't help it. I think it's very, very horrid of them."
"Oh dear! oh dear!" sighed her sister again.
"Now, Kitty, stop."
"Another man!" sighed Mrs. Willoughby.
"Now, Kitty, if you are so unkind, I'll cry. You're always teasing me. ”

“ In a carriage by the way of Civita Castellana! Darn that old idiot of a woman! what's she up to now? If she's running away from me, she'll wish herself back before she gets far on that road. Why, there's an infernal nest of brigands there that call themselves Garibaldians; and, by thunder, the woman's crazy! They'll be seized and held to ransom—perhaps worse. Heavens! I'll go mad! I'll run and tell them. But no; they won't see me. What'll I do? And Minnie! I can't give her up. She can't give me up. She's a poor, trembling little creature; her whole life hangs on mine. ”

“ She lay there before my eyes a picture of loveliness beyond imagination—as beautiful as a dream—more like a child-angel than ever. Her hair clustered in golden curls over her white brow, her little hands were folded meekly over her breast, her lips were parted into a sweet smile, the gentle eyes no longer looked at me with the piteous, pleading, trustful, innocent expression which I had noticed in them before, and her hearing was deaf to the words of love and tenderness that I lavished upon her."
"Good!" muttered Hawbury; "you talk like a novel. Drive on, old man. ”

“ At any rate, you are altogether in the wrong when you say he is dead."
"Dead! He is dead! I swear it!" cried Girasole, whose manner was a little toned down by Minnie's coolness.
"This is getting to be awfully funny, you know," said Minnie. "I really think we don't know what one another is talking about. I'm sure I don't, and I'm sure he don't, either; does he, Ethel darling?"
"De Inglis milor," said Girasole. "He is dead."
"Well, but I don't mean him at all," said Minnie.
"Who—who?" gasped Girasole. "Who—who—who?"
"Why, the person I mean," said Minnie, very placidly, "is Rufus K. Gunn." ”

“ Kitty, why don't you say something?"
"Why, Minnie dearest, I really don't know what to say."
"But, darling, you must say something. And then that Scone Dacres. I'm more afraid of him than any body. Oh, I know he's going to kill some one. He is so big. Oh, if you had only been on his back, Kitty darling, and had him run down a steep mountain-side, you'd be as awfully afraid of him as I am. Oh, how I wish Lord Hawbury would drive them off, or somebody do something to save me." ”

“ Minnie felt her sister's hand throb at the quick movement of her heart, and heard her short, quick breathing.
"Who can it be, I wonder?" said Minnie, full of curiosity, but without any excitement at all.
"Oh, Minnie!"
"What's the matter, darling?"
"It's so terrible."
"What?"
"This suspense. Oh, I'm so afraid!"
"Afraid! Why, I'm not afraid at all."
"Oh! he'll be caught."
"No, he won't," said Minnie, confidently. "I knew he'd come. They always do. Don't be afraid that he'll be caught, or that he'll fail. They never fail. They always will save me. ”

“ And now what was the injured husband doing with his demon wife? Doing! why, doing the impassioned lover most vigorously; sustaining her steps most tenderly; grasping her hand; pushing aside the bushes; assisting her down the slope; overwhelming her, in short; hovering round her, apparently unconscious that there was in all the wide world any other being than Mrs. Willoughby. And as Hawbury looked upon all this his eyes dilated and his lips parted involuntarily in utter wonder; and finally, as Dacres reached the spot, the only greeting which he could give his friend was,
"By Jove!" ”

“ Tozer sighed.
"I'm very happy," continued Minnie, "very, very happy—that is, when I'm with dear, darling Kitty, and dear, dear Ethel, and my darling old Dowdy, and dear, kind papa."
Tozer sighed again.
"You can't be truly happy thus," he said, mournfully. "You may think you are, but you ain't. My heart fairly yearns over you when I see you, so young, so lovely, and so innocent; and I know you can't be happy as you are. You must live otherwise. ”

“ What have you against me?"
"Inglis milor," cried Girasole, who was stung to the quick by a certain indescribable yet most irritating superciliousness in Hawbury's tone—"Inglis milor, you sall see what you sall soffair. You sall die! Dere is no hope. You are condemn by de brigand. You also are condemn by me, for you insult me."
"Well, of all the beastly rot I ever heard, this is about the worst! What do you mean by all this infernal nonsense? Insult you! What would I insult you for? Why, man alive, you're as mad as a March hare! If I thought you were a gentleman, I'd—by Jove, I will, too! ”

“ When Dacres had sprung aside into the woods in the moment of his fierce rush upon Girasole, he had been animated by a sudden thought that escape for himself was possible, and that it would be more serviceable to his friends. 96 Thus, then, he had bounded into the woods, and with swift steps he forced his way among the trees deeper and deeper into the forest. Some of the brigands had given chase, but without effect. Dacres's superior strength and agility gave him the advantage, and his love of life was a greater stimulus than their thirst for vengeance. ”

“ The priest made no attempt at denial or equivocation. He knew that this would be useless. He waited for an opportunity to excuse himself, and to explain rather than to deny. But every answer of his only served to increase the fury of Girasole, who seemed determined to visit upon the head of the priest and Ethel the rage that he felt at his last interview with Minnie.
"Then why," cried Girasole, "did you try to trick us? Don't you know the punishment we give to spies and traitors?"
"I have nothing to do with spies and traitors."
"You are one yourself." ”

“ Hawbury encountered his glance without any expression. He merely sat and smoked and passed his fingers through his pendent whiskers.
"Excuse me," said Dacres, abruptly.
"Certainly, my dear boy, a thousand times; only I hope you will allow me to remark that your style is altogether a new one, and during the whole course of our acquaintance I do not remember seeing it before. You have a melodramatic way that is overpowering. Still I don't see why you should swear at yourself in a place like Naples, where there are so many other things to swear at. ”

“ Whereupon Dacres stopped, and, without a word, raised her in his arms as though she were a little child, and ran up the bank. He plunged into the woods. Then he ran on farther. Then he turned and doubled.
Mrs. Willoughby begged him to put her down.
"No," said he; "they are behind us. You can not go fast enough. I should have to wait and defend you, and then we would both be lost."
"But, oh! we are losing Minnie."
"No, we are not," cried Dacres; "that man is ten times stronger than I am. He is a perfect elephant in strength. ”

“ Not she, by Jove!"
"I must go. I must follow her," continued Dacres. "The sight of her has roused a devil within me that I thought was laid. I'm a changed man, Hawbury."
"I should think so, by Jove!"
"A changed man," continued Dacres. "Oh, Heavens, what power there is in a face! What terrific influence it has over a man! Here am I; a few days ago I was a free man; now I am a slave. But, by Heaven! I'll follow her to the world's end. She shall not shake me off. She thinks to be happy without me. She shall not. I will silently follow as an avenging fate. ”

“ Besides, I feel that I am far more to her than any other man. No other man has stood to her in the relation in which I have stood. Recollect how I saved her from death. That is no light thing. She must feel toward me as she has never felt to any other. She is not one who can forget how I snatched her from a fearful death, and brought her back to life. Every time she looks at me she seems to convey all that to me in her glance."
"Oh, well, my dear fellow, really now," said Hawbury, "just think. You can't do any thing." ”

“ You can't do any thing."
"I'm going to Rome," repeated Dacres, stolidly. "I've made up my mind."
"But, really," remonstrated Hawbury. "See here now, my dear fellow; look here, you know. By Jove! you don't consider, really."
"Oh yes, I do. I know every thing; I consider every thing."
"But what good will it do?"
"It won't do any good; but it may prevent some evil."
"Nothing but evil can ever come of it."
"Oh, no evil need necessarily come of it."
"By Jove!" exclaimed Hawbury, who began to be excited. "Really, my dear fellow, you don't think. You see you can't gain any thing. ”

“ Hawbury's chin was in the air, his eyes rested languidly upon the stranger, and his left hand toyed with his left whisker. He really meant no offense whatever. He knew absolutely nothing about the stranger, and had not the slightest intention of giving offense. It was simply a way he had. It was merely the normal attitude of the English swell before he is introduced. As it was, that first glance which Girasole threw at the English lord inspired him with the bitterest hate, which was destined to produce important results afterward. ”

“ Willoughby and Lady Dalrymple than they had known since they had been aware that the Baron had followed them. They felt that they had grappled with the difficulty. They had met the enemy and defeated him. Besides, the presence of Hawbury was of itself a guarantee of peace. There could be no further danger of any unpleasant scenes while Hawbury was with him. Girasole's presence, also, was felt to be an additional guarantee of safety.
It was felt by all to be a remarkable circumstance that so many men should have followed them on what they had intended as quite a secret journey. ”

“ Minnie walked on lightly, and with an elastic step, looking around with evident interest upon the forest. Once a passing lizard drew from her a pretty little shriek of alarm, thus showing that while she was so calm in the face of real and frightful danger, she could be alarmed by even the most innocent object that affected her fancy. Mrs. Willoughby thought that she understood Minnie before, but this little shriek at a lizard, from one who smiled at the brigands, struck her as a problem quite beyond her power to solve. ”

“ No; it's impossible! It can't be! Don't I know her? Can't I remember her? Is my memory all a dream? No, it's real; and it's marked deep by this scar that I wear. Never till that scar is obliterated can that woman change."
Dacres had been speaking, as he often did now, half to himself; and as he ended he rubbed his hand over the place where the scar lay, as though to soothe the inflammation that arose from the rush of angry blood to his head. ”

“ Dacres turned, and Mrs. Willoughby had just grasped Minnie's hand to follow, when suddenly they heard footsteps below.
They stopped, appalled.
The robbers had not all gone, then. Some of them must have remained on guard. But how many?
Dacres listened and the ladies listened, and in their suspense the beating of each heart was audible. The footsteps below could be heard going from room to room, and pausing in each.
"There seems to be only one man," said Dacres, in a whisper. "If there is only one, I'll engage to manage him. While I grapple, you run for your lives. ”

“ This change took place when Girasole, after visiting the ladies, came, with Mrs. Willoughby, to his room. As Dacres lay on the floor he heard the voice of the Italian, and the faint, mournful, pleading tones of a woman's voice, and, finally, he saw the flash of a light, and knew that the Italian was coming to his room, and perhaps this woman also. He held his breath in suspense. What did it mean? The tone of Girasole was not the tone of love. The light drew nearer, and the footsteps too—one a heavy footfall, the tread of a man; the other lighter, the step of a woman. ”