Lamberti

“ Guido asked, with a little sadness. "After what you have done, too?"
"I am afraid my mere existence has broken up your life, after all," Lamberti answered.
"You must not think that. Please do not, my friend. There is only one thing that could hurt me now that it is all over."
"What is that?"
"I am not afraid that it will happen. You are not the kind of man to break her heart."
"No," Lamberti answered very quietly. "I am not."
"It was only a dream for me, after all," Guido said, after a little while. "You have the reality. ”

“ There was something in the thought of not having told Guido all before the delirium seized him, that still offended Lamberti's scrupulous loyalty. It would be almost horrible if Guido should die without knowing the truth. Somehow, his consent still seemed needful to Lamberti's love, and it seemed so to Cecilia, too, and there was no denying that he was now in danger of his life. If he was to die, there would probably be a lucid hour before death, but what right would his best friend have to embitter those final moments for one who would certainly go out of this world with no hope of the next? ”

“ If you do not tell me who the man is, some one else will."
"No one else can," Lamberti answered, with emphasis.
"Why not? I would rather speak of her with you, if I must speak of her at all, of course. But some obliging person is sure to tell me, or write to me about it, as soon as the engagement is announced. 'My dear d'Este, do you remember that girl you were engaged to last spring?' And so on. Remember her!"
"There is no engagement," Lamberti said. "No one will write to you about it, and no one knows who the man is, except the Contessina and the man himself."
"And you," corrected Guido. ”

“ Yet, when he was gone at last, would it be no slur on the memory of such true friendship to do what would have hurt him, if he could have known of it? Lamberti was not sure. Like some strong men of rough temperament, he had hidden delicacies of feeling that many a girl would have thought foolish and exaggerated, and they were the more sensitive because they were so secret, and he never suffered outward things to come in contact with them, nor spoke of them, even to Guido. ”

“ Lamberti's lids drooped as if he were concentrating his attention on the remembered vision.
"I dreamt," he said, "that I saw a veiled woman in white come out of the temple door straight into the sunlight, and though I could not see the face, I knew who she was. She went down the steps and then up the others to the house of the Vestals, and entered in without looking back. I followed her. The door was open, and there was no one to stop me."
"That is very improbable," observed Guido. "There must have always been a slave at the door." ”

“ Guido was silent for a while, leaning over the balcony and looking down, while Lamberti stood upright and waited for his answer.
"How can I act otherwise?" asked Guido, at last, without looking up. "You would do the same in my place. So would any man of honour."
"I should try to believe you, whatever you said."
"And if you could not?" Guido enquired almost fiercely.
It was very nearly an insult, but Lamberti answered quietly and firmly.
"Before refusing to believe me, merely on apparent evidence, you can ask the Contessina herself."
"As if a woman could tell the truth when a man will not!" ”

“ Lamberti was a man who had the most profound respect for every woman who deserved to be respected ever so little, and a good-natured contempt for all the rest, together with a careless willingness to be amused by them. And of all the women in the world, next to his own mother, the one whom he would treat with something approaching to veneration would be Guido's wife, if Guido married. ”

“ She spoke rather bitterly now. "My reputation is damaged, I fancy, because I have refused to marry a man I do not love!"
"I will take care of your reputation," Lamberti answered, as if he were saying the most natural thing in the world.
"It is hardly your place to do that," Cecilia answered, much surprised.
"It may not be my right," Lamberti said, "as people consider those things. But it is my place, as Guido's friend and yours, as the only man alive who is devoted to you both." ”

“ It does not matter. We must never meet again like that—never. Do you understand? We must promise never to try and find each other in our dreams. Will you promise?"
"Yes; I promise." Lamberti spoke gravely.
"I promise, too," Cecilia said.
Then they were both silent for a time. It was like a real parting, and they felt it, and for a few moments each was thinking of the bench by the fountain in the Villa Madama.
"We owe it to Guido," Lamberti said at last, almost unconsciously.
"Yes," the girl answered; "and to ourselves. Thank you." ”

“ Lamberti told the doctor the story of his meeting Cecilia at the house of the Vestals. The specialist listened attentively, for he was already convinced that Lamberti was a man of solid reason and practical good sense, probably the victim of a series of coincidences that had made a strong impression on his mind. When Lamberti paused, there was a moment's silence.
"What do you yourself think was the cause of the lady's fright?" asked the doctor at last.
"I believe that she had dreamed the same dream," Lamberti answered without hesitation.
"What makes you believe anything so improbable?" ”

“ Many and many a time she had heard the dying declare quietly that they were out of danger. Lamberti stood motionless by the bedside, thinking much the same things and feeling as if his own heart were slowly turning into lead.
He stood there a long time, convinced that it was useless to send for the doctor, who always came about midnight, for Guido would probably be dead before he came. He would stop breathing presently, and that would be the end. The lids would open a little, but the eyes would not see, there would be a little white froth on the parted lips, and that would be the end. ”

“ Guido tossed on his pillows, turned his head, and stared at Lamberti, hoping to be contradicted.
"It is of no use to go to bed because a woman is faithless," answered Lamberti rather savagely. Guido almost laughed. ”

“ Most seafaring men do absurdly sentimental things sometimes. Lamberti's expression had neither softened nor changed while he was scratching the mark, and when he went on his way he looked precisely as he did when he was going up the steps of the Ministry to attend a meeting of the Commission. He had good nerves, as he had told the specialist whom he had consulted in the spring.
But he would have given much not to meet Guido for a day or two, though he did not in the least mind meeting the Countess. ”

“ She was very fair, but her eyes were not blue; it would have been hard to define their colour, and sometimes there seemed to be golden lights in them. While she was standing, Lamberti had seen that she was almost as tall as himself, and therefore taller than most women; and she was slender, and moved like a very perfectly proportioned young wild animal, continuously, but without haste, till each motion was completed in rest. Most men and women really move in a succession of very short movements, entirely interrupted at more or less perceptible intervals. ”

“ Never again would she sit alone at night and look for her image in the shadow, since such things could come of playing with visions; and she trusted that she might never again set eyes upon Lamberto Lamberti. She was alone, but at the thought of meeting him she blushed and bit her lip angrily. How was it possible that he should know what she had dreamt? For years, in that dream of the Vestal, a being had played a part, a being too like him in face to be another man, but who had loved her as a goddess, and whom she had loved for his matchless bravery and his glorious strength over himself. ”

“ She went to the tall mirror in the door of the wardrobe and began to arrange her veil, expecting Lamberti every moment. She had hardly finished when he entered and beckoned to her. She caught up her parasol by the middle so as to hold its contents safely, and in a few seconds she was outside the front door of the apartment. Lamberti drew a breath of relief.
"Take those!" she said quickly, producing the pistol and the cartridges. "He must not have them." ”

“ If I have not succeeded in making her love me yet, I shall never succeed at all! It is better to bear it as if I had never expected anything else."
"Is there any reason why a woman should be allowed to do with impunity what one man would shoot another for doing?" asked Lamberti, roughly. "She has changed her mind once, she can be made to change it again."
The more he thought of what had happened the angrier he grew, and his jealousy against the unknown man who had caused the trouble was boiling up.
Guido caught at the straw like a drowning man, and raised himself on his elbow. ”

“ Lamberti was standing by the bedside, and he saw the serious and almost timid look in his friend's eyes. But he had not expected the request, and he hesitated a moment.
"You would rather not," said Guido, disappointed. "I suppose I must wait till I am well. Only it may be too late then. She will tell every one that she has broken off the engagement." ”

“ Guido foresaw no difficulties in the future, but he anticipated no happiness, and his life stretched before him, colourless, blank, and idle.
Since his delirium had ceased, he had not once spoken of Cecilia, and Lamberti began to fear that he would not allude to her for a long time. That did not make it easier to tell him the story he must hear, and the time had come when he must hear it, come what might, lest he should ever think that he had been intentionally kept in ignorance of the truth. ”

“ Cecilia had not been at the villa since the afternoon before Guido fell ill, and Lamberti had never come there since the garden party in May.
They stood still before the low wall and looked across the shoulder of the hill. Saving commonplace words at meeting, they had not spoken yet. Cecilia broke the silence at last, looking straight before her, her lids low, her face quiet, almost as if she were in a dream.
"Have we done all that we could do, all that we ought to do for him?" she asked. "Are you sure?"
"We can do nothing more," Lamberti answered gravely. ”

“ Lamberti spoke the name with contempt, but Guido said nothing, for, after all, the high and mighty lady about whom they were talking was his father's sister, and he preferred not to talk scandal about her, even with his intimate friend.
"If matters grow worse," said Lamberti, "there are at least the worthless securities in her name, to prove that you acted for her." ”

“ She was playing a part with Lamberti, too, and that was no better. She had fallen low enough to love a man who did not care a straw for her, and it needed all the energy of character she had left to keep him from finding it out. Nothing could be more contemptible. If any one but he had told her that she ought to go back to the appearance of an engagement with Guido, she would have refused to do it. But Lamberti dominated her ”

“ As she is only just eighteen, that is impossible."
"Excuse me, my dear sir, nothing is impossible. Every one is absent-minded sometimes. You may have seen the young lady in the street, or at the theatre. You may have stared at her quite unconsciously while you were thinking of something else, and her features may have so impressed themselves upon your memory, without your knowing it, that you actually recognised her when you met her in a drawing-room."
"I daresay," admitted Lamberti, indifferently. "But that is no reason why I should dream of her every night." ”

“ Lamberti went on. "The cheeks get hollow all at once, the eyes are wide open, with black rings round them, the face turns a greenish grey, and the sweat runs down the forehead into the eyebrows. Men totter with fear, too, as if their joints were unstrung. But I never saw a woman really terrified before. There was a sort of awful tension of all her features, as though they were suddenly made brittle, like beautiful glass, and were going to shiver into fragments. And her eyes had no visible pupils—her lips turned violet. ”

“ In agreeing to the dangerous scheme, Lamberti had yielded to an impulse founded upon his intuitive knowledge of women, and not at all upon his inborn love of anything in which there was risk. The danger was for Cecilia, not for himself, in any case; and it was real, for, if it should ever be known that she had gone to Guido's rooms, nothing but her marriage with him would silence the gossips. Society cannot be blamed for drawing a line somewhere, considering how very far back it sets the limit. ”

“ Lamberti, without reasoning about it, knew that no woman ever does well what she does not like doing. If he persisted in making Cecilia attempt to break gradually with Guido, she would soon make mistakes and spoil everything. ”

“ Guido had never mentioned them, of course, and Lamberti explained in a few words exactly what had happened, and the nature of the receipts Guido had given to his aunt.
"I daresay you are right about Monsieur Leroy," he concluded, "for the old lady is far too clever to have done such an absurd thing as this, and it is just like his blundering hatred of Guido."
"I wish he were here," said Cecilia, looking at Lamberti's hands. "I wonder what you would do to him."
"The lawyer is here, which is more to the purpose," Lamberti answered.
"You cannot fight a lawyer, can you?" asked the young girl. ”

“ Lamberti read the telegram to the Countess, who seemed satisfied, but not very hopeful about the result.
"I never could understand what financiers and newspapers have to do with each other," she observed. "They seem to me so different."
"There is not often any resemblance between a horse and his rider," said Lamberti, enigmatically.
"Will you come this evening and tell us what the lawyer says?" Cecilia asked.
"Yes, if I may."
"Pray do," said the Countess. "We should so much like to know. Poor Guido! Good-bye!" Lamberti left the room. ”