Arcangelo Corelli

“ In no work produced by her busy pen has Miss Corelli given such range to her imagination, to her love of the beautiful and fantastic, as in “Ardath.” This, her fourth book, abounds in wonderful accounts of a strange people in a strange place. When she sets a scene of barbaric splendor in the city of Al-Kyris, she reaches great descriptive heights; she tells, indeed, a tale of beauty, of horror, and of extraordinary amours, whose like can nowhere be found, look where you will. “Ardath” stands alone—a prose poem and a startlingly vivid narrative in one. ”

“ It is enough for me to know that you are a child and alone in the world,—such sorrow makes me your servant."
Gently the boy loosened his clasp of the Cardinal's hands.
"Then I have found a friend!" he said,—"That is very strange!" He paused, and the smile that had once before brightened his countenance shone again like a veritable flash of sunlight—"You have the right to know my name, and if you choose, to call me by it,—it is Manuel." ”

“ You will have to wear a crown of thorns, set on your brows no doubt by those whom you most love . . . and the vinegar and gall will be very quickly mixed and offered to you by the whole world of criticism without a moment's hesitation! And will probably have to endure your agony alone,—as nearly everyone runs away from a declared Truth, orif they pause at all, it is only to spit upon it and call it a Lie!"
"Do not prophesy so cruel a fate for the child!" said the Cardinal tenderly, taking Angela's hand and drawing her towards him. "She has a great gift,—I am sure she will use it greatly. ”

“ Cyrillon smiled.
"The Church has with all due solemnity anathematized your picture as an inspiration of the Evil One! But it is better that it should be so anathematized than that it should be reported as not your own work. Between two lies, the emissaries of the Vatican have chosen the one least dangerous to themselves."
Angela sighed wearily.
"You do not care?" queried Cyrillon. "Neither anathema nor lie has any effect on you?"
She raised her left hand and looked dreamily at the circlet of rubies on it—Florian Varillo's betrothal ring.
"I care for nothing," she said slowly. ”

“ My compliments to "Gys Grandit," and to you the assurance of my devoted homage. Pietro Sovrani.'"
The Princesse folded up the letter and looked wistfully at Angela.
"You will give him the smile of welcome he asks for, will you not, little one?" she asked. "You are all he has in the world, remember!"
"I do remember," murmured Angela. "I know!"
"Aubrey and his wife are 'beginning work in real earnest'!" said Cyrillon. "And how much their work will mean to the world! More than the world can at present imagine or estimate! ”

“ Meanwhile, here's to thee!"—and bending his handsome head he readily drank a deep draught of the proffered wine.. "May all the gods hold fast our bond of friendship!"
And with a graceful salute he returned the jewelled cup half-empty. Theos at once drained off what yet remained within it, and then, leaning more confidentially over the Laureate's chair, he whispered:
"Hast thou in very truth forgotten thy rashness of last night, Sah-luma? Surely thou must guess how unquiet I have been concerning thee! Tell me, . . was thy hot pursuit in vain? ... or.. didst thou discover the King?" ”

“ She met his look with a languid indifference and a half-disdainful smile.
"Enough! restrain thine ardor!" she said coldly, her dark dilating orbs shining like steel beneath the velvet softness of her long lashes. "Thou dost speak ignorantly, unknowing what thy words involve—words to which I well might bind thee, were I less forbearing to thine inconsiderate rashness. How like all men thou art! How keen to plunge into unfathomed deeps, merely to snatch the pearl of present pleasure! How martyr-seeming in thy fancied sufferings, as though THY little wave of personal sorrow swamped the world! ”

“ Sylvie kissed her in silence,—she could not say anything, even by the way of thanks,—her heart was too full.
"We shall be very lonely without you, darling," went on Angela. "Shall we not, father?" Prince Pietro came to her side, and taking her hand patted it consolingly—"But we shall know you are happy in England—and we shall try and come and see you as soon as I get strong,—I want to join my uncle and Manuel. I miss Manuel very much,—he and my father are everything to me now!" ”

“ Quietly Miss Letty laid her two hands over the soft hair, stroking it gently,—and controlling her own tears, she made a gentle sign to the stricken Major to go. With a mute glance of farewell tenderness, that gallant officer stole out of the room on tiptoe,—and pausing in the hall outside, wiped his eyes and blew his nose guardedly lest he should make too much noise.
“God bless my soul!” he ejaculated. “These women beat everything! Break their hearts, and they say the pain shall make them better! ’Pon my soul! What brutes we men are—what revolting, dirty, selfish, downright brutes! ”

“ The woman gives all to one,—the man gives a little to many. I really am not to blame for falling in with this general course of things. You look very angry with me, Donna Sovrani, and your eyes positively abash me;—you are very loyal to your friend and I admire you for it; but after all, why should you be so hard upon me? I am no worse than Varillo."
Angela started, and her cheeks crimsoned.
"Than Varillo? What do you mean?"
"Well, Varillo has Pon-Pon,—of course she is useful—what he would do without her I am sure I cannot imagine,—still she IS Pon-Pon." ”

“ I said, and I heard myself speak as though I were somebody else at a great distance off—"I think, Signor Cellini, your Eastern wine has been too potent for me. My head is quite heavy, and I feel dazed."
"It is mere fatigue and the heat of the day," he replied quietly. "I am sure you are not too DAZED, as you call it, to see your favourite picture, are you?"
I trembled. Was not that picture veiled? I looked—there was no curtain at all, and the faces of the two Angels shone out of the canvas with intense brilliancy! ”

“ The Major pulled his white moustache thoughtfully.
“Yes, I have,” he admitted. “And why the devil—I beg your pardon!—I have done it I can’t imagine. England’s good enough for anybody. There’s too much gadding about everywhere nowadays. And the world seems to me to shrink in consequence. Shrink! by Jove!—it’s no bigger than a billiard ball!”
Miss Letty smiled, and said “Sweet!” to her bullfinch, which straightway warbled with delightful inaccuracy the quaint air of “The Whistling Coon.”
“Bravo! Bravo!” exclaimed Major Desmond, after listening attentively to the little bird’s performance. ”

“ Angela started.
"I?" she exclaimed.
"Yes—you—why not?" And the Abbe treated her to one of his particularly paternal smiles. "You are betrothed to Florian Varillo,—but no man ever had or ever could have all the virtues with which you endow this excellent Florian. He is a delightful creature,—a good artist—unique in his own particular line,—but you think him something much greater than even artist or man—a sort of god, (though the gods themselves were not impeccable) only fit to be idealised. Now, I am not a believer in the gods,—but of course it is delightful to me to meet those who are." ”

“ The Princesse D'Agramont was the first to recover her self-possession.
"Angela must not be here," she said. "She is not strong enough to stand a scene. And no doubt Gherardi has come to make one! We will leave him to you, Mr. Leigh—and to Gys Grandit!"
She withdrew at once with Angela, and in another moment Gherardi was ushered in. He glanced quickly around him as he made his formal salutation,—his eyes rested for a moment on Sylvie and Aubrey Leigh—then he addressed himself to Prince Pietro. ”

“ Something of the old steady light came back to her eyes, and Cyrillon inwardly rejoiced to see it.
"My words seem rough," he said, "but truly they are not so. I repeat, your soul is frightened—yes! frightened at the close approach of God! God is never so near to us as in a great sorrow; and when we feel His presence almost within sight and touch, we are afraid. But we must not give way to fear; we must not grovel in the dust and hide ourselves as if we were ashamed! We must rise up and grow accustomed to His glory, and let Him lead us where He will!"
He paused, for Angela was weeping. ”

“ Dearest, do not stay long away—I shall be so unhappy till you come back!”
“Absence strengthens love, they say,” I observed, with a forced smile. “May it do so in our case. Farewell, cara mia! Pray for me; I suppose you do pray a great deal here?”
“Oh, yes,” she replied, naively; “there is nothing else to do.”
I held her hands closely in my grasp. The engagement ring on her finger, and the diamond signet on my own, flashed in the light like the crossing of swords.
“Pray then,” I said, “storm the gates of heaven with sweet-voiced pleadings for the repose of poor Ferrari’s soul! ”

“ Oh, I don’t want Miss Letty to die!” he said, the colour rushing up hotly to his brows. “No—no! I don’t want any money—— I wouldn’t have it—not if Miss Letty had to die first! I would rather die myself!”
And unable to control his rising emotion, he suddenly burst into tears and ran out of the room.
Mrs. D’Arcy-Muir gazed after him helplessly. Then rising, she paced the room slowly to and fro with elephantine tread, and sniffed the air portentously.
“He’s getting quite unmanageable! I’m thankful—yes, thankful that I have decided on that school in Brittany, and the sooner he goes the better!” ”

“ A millionaire like Nugent can’t hide his light under a bushel. I will find out where he is, and see him myself, if I have to cross the ocean to do it.”
Violet looked up at him with tearful eyes.
“You are good to me, uncle!” she said; “but—you know—if he does not care for me any more——”
“You do not care for him!” finished the Major. “That’s what you must say, and that is what you must feel.”
The girl shook her head.
“Ah, you may shake your head!” said Desmond; “but I am not going to let you waste your life as Miss Letty has wasted hers, all for the love of a rascal. ”

“ And this is a mistake many men make. Fontenelle wished to treat me as Miraudin would have treated his 'leading lady';—he judged that quite sufficient for happiness. Now Aubrey treats me as his comrade,—his friend as well as his love, and that makes our confidence perfect. By the way, he spoke to me a great deal yesterday about the Abbe Vergniaud, and told me all he knew about his son Cyrillon."
"Ah, the poor Abbe!" said Angela. "They are angry with him still at the
Vatican—angry now with his dead body! But 'Gys Grandit' is not of the
Catholic faith, so they can do nothing with him." ”

“ We must do all we can to save our friends. The Cardinal must be thought of first. If we are not quick to the rescue he will be sent 'into retreat,' which can be translated as forced detention, otherwise imprisonment. He must leave Rome to-night. Now listen!"
And sitting down beside her, still holding her hand, he gave her an account of his meeting with Cyrillon Vergniaud, otherwise "Gys Grandit," and told her of the sudden passion for Angela that had fired the soul of that fiery writer of the fiercest polemics against priestcraft that had as yet startled France. ”

“ She went out to meet him, leaving Boy with his toys in her morning-room,—but one glance at his face confirmed all her worst fears.
“It’s no go, Letty!” he said regretfully, as he shook hands. “I’ve done my best. But I’ll tell you where the trouble is. It’s the woman. I could manage D’Arcy-Muir, but not that stout play-actress. When D’Arcy-Muir is sober he sees clearly enough, and realizes quite well what a capital chance it is for the little chap ”

“ It is my ambition to get into that Index,—I shall never rest till I win the honour of being beside Darwin's 'Origin of Species'!"
Angela smiled, but her thoughts were elsewhere.
"I hope the Abbe will go away at once," she said meditatively, "But you have no idea how happy and at ease he is! He seems to be ready for anything."
"What does Cardinal Bonpre think?" asked the Princesse.
"My uncle never thinks in any way except the way of Christ," replied Angela. "He says, 'Thy sins be forgiven thee; arise and walk', to every soul stricken with the palsy of pain and repentance. He helps the fallen ”

“ Varillo yawned, and flicked a grain of dust off his waistcoat with a fastidious thumb and finger.
"Impossible! No one could possibly fall in love with Angela now! She is an icicle,—no man save myself has the ghost of a chance with her!"
"Of course not," said Sylvie impatiently, "Because she is betrothed to you. But if things were not as they are—"
"It would make no difference, I assure you," laughed Varillo gaily, "Angela does not like men as a rule. ”

“ You shall know the worst at once—then you shall yourself judge the position. You shall prove for yourself the power of Rome! To escape that power you would have, as the Scripture says, to 'take the wings of the morning and fly into the uttermost parts of the sea.' Think well!—the fame and reputation of Angela Sovrani can be ruined at my command,—and equally, the sanctity and position of her uncle, Cardinal Bonpre!"
With a sudden movement Sylvie wrenched her hand away from his, and stood at bay, her eyes flashing, her cheeks crimsoning. ”

“ And as she uttered these words, in accents of dreamy delight, she ascended the first step of the Shrine. Theos, looking, held his breath in wonder and fear, while Sah-luma with a groan turned himself resolutely away, and, pressing his forehead against the great column where he stood, hid his eyes in his clasped hands.
The High Priestess continued:
"Come hither, O Maiden of chaste and patient life!
Rejoice greatly, for thy virtue hath pleased the gods:
The undiscovered marvels of the Stars are thine,
Earth has no more control over thee:
Heaven is thine absolute Heritage! ... ”