But, signora, do you see that all concert about the signal is lost?
My friend, I see something; Laura nodded a significant half-meaning at him. And perhaps it will be as well. Go at once. See that another signal is decided upon. Oh! because we are readyready. Inaction now is uttermost anguishkills the heart. What number of the white butchers have we in the city to-night?
They are marching in at every gate. I saw a regiment of Hungarians coming up the Borgo della Stella. Two fresh squadrons of Uhlans in the Corso Francesco. In the Piazza dArmi artillery is encamped.
The better for Brescia, for Bergamo, for Padua, for Venice! exclaimed Laura. There is a limit to their power. We Milanese can match them. For days and days I have had a dream lying in my bosom that Milan was soon to breathe. Go, my brother; go to Barto Rizzo; gather him and Count Medole, Agostino, and Colonel Corteto whom I kiss my fingersgather them together, and squeeze their brains for the one spark of divine fire in this darkness which must exist where there are so many thorough men bent upon a sacred enterprise. And, Carlo,Laura checked her nervous voice, dont think I am declaiming to you from one of my Midnight Lamps. (She spoke of the title of her pamphlets to the Italian people.) You feel among us women very much as Agostino and Colonel Corte feel when the boy Carlo airs his impetuosities in their presence. Yes, my fervour makes a philosopher of you. That is human nature. Pity me, pardon me, and do my bidding.
The comparison of Ammianis present sentiments to those of the elders of the conspiracy, when his mouth was open in their midst, was severe and masterful, for the young man rose instantly without a thought in his head.
He remarked: I will tell them that the signorina does not give the signal.
Tell them that the name she has chosen shall be Vittoria still; but say, that she feels a shadow of suspicion to be an injunction upon her at such a crisis, and she will serve silently and humbly until she is rightly known, and her time comes. She is willing to appear before them, and submit to interrogation. She knows her innocence, and knowing that they work for the good of the country, she, if it is their will, is content to be blotted out of all participation:all! She abjures all for the common welfare. Say that. And say, to-morrow night the rising must be. Oh! to-morrow night! It is my husband to me.
Laura Piaveni crossed her arms upon her bosom.
Ammiani was moving from them with a downward face, when a bell-note of Vittorias voice arrested him.
Stay, Signor Carlo; I shall sing to-morrow night.
The widow heard her through that thick emotion which had just closed her speech with its symbolical sensuous rapture. Divining opposition fiercely, like a creature thwarted when athirst for the wells, she gave her a terrible look, and then said cajolingly, as far as absence of sweetness could make the tones pleasant, Yes, you will sing, but you will not sing that song.
It is that song which I intend to sing, signora.
When it is interdicted?
There is only one whose interdict I can acknowledge.
You will dare to sing in defiance of me?
I dare nothing when I simply do my duty.
Ammiani went up to the window, and leaned there, eyeing the lights leading down to the crowding Piazza. He wished that he were among the crowd, and might not hear those sharp stinging utterances coming from Laura, and Vittorias unwavering replies, less frequent, but firmer, and gravely solid. Laura spent her energy in taunts, but Vittoria spoke only of her resolve, and to the point. It was, as his military instincts framed the simile, like the venomous crackling of skirmishing rifles before a fortress, that answered slowly with its volume of sound and sweeping shot. He had the vision of himself pleading to secure her safety, and in her hearing, on the Motterone, where she had seemed so simple a damsel, albeit nobly enthusiastic: too fair, too gentle to be stationed in any corner of the conflict at hand. Partly abased by the remembrance of his brainless intercessions then, and of the laughter which had greeted them, and which the signora had recently recalled, it was nevertheless not all in self-abasement (as the momentary recognition of a splendid character is commonly with men) that he perceived the stature of Vittorias soul. Remembering also what the Chief had spoken of women, Ammiani thought Perhaps he has known one such as she. The passion of the young mans heart magnified her image. He did not wonder to see the signora acknowledge herself worsted in the conflict.
She talks like the edge of a sword, cried Laura, desperately, and dropped into a chair. Take her home, and convince her, if you can, on the way, Carlo. I go to the Duchess of Graatli to-night. She has a reception. Take this girl home. She says she will sing: she obeys the Chief, and none but the Chief. We will not suppose that it is her desire to shine. She is suspected; she is accused; she is branded; there is no general faith in her; yet she will hold the torch to-morrow night:and what ensues? Some will move, some turn back, some run headlong over to treachery, some hang irresolute all are for the shambles! The blood is on her head.
I will excuse myself to you another time, said Vittoria. I love you, Signora Laura.
You do, you do, or you would not think of excusing yourself to me, said Laura. But now, go. You have cut me in two. Carlo Ammiani may succeed where I have failed, and I have used every weapon; enough to make a mean creature hate me for life and kiss me with transports. Do your best, Carlo, and let it be your utmost.
It remained for Ammiani to assure her that their views were different.
The signorina persists in her determination to carry out the programme indicated by the Chief, and refuses to be diverted from her path by the false suspicions of subordinates. He employed a sententious phraseology instinctively, as men do when they are nervous, as well as when they justify the cynics definition of the uses of speech. The signorina is, in my opinion, right. If she draws back, she publicly accepts the blot upon her name. I speak against my own feelings and my wishes.
Sandra, do you hear? exclaimed Laura. This is a friends interpretation of your inconsiderate wilfulness.
Vittoria was content to reply, The Signor Carlo judges of me differently.
Go, then, and be fortified by him in this headstrong folly. Laura motioned her hand, and laid it on her face.
Vittoria knelt and enclosed her with her arms, kissing her knees.
Beppo waits for me at the house-door, she said; but Carlo chose not to hear of this shadow-like Beppo.
You have nothing to say for her save that she clears her name by giving the signal, Laura burst out on his temperate Addio, and started to her feet. Well, let it be so. Fruitless blood again! A rivederla to you both. To-night I am in the enemys camp. They play with open cards. Amalia tells me all she knows by what she disguises. I may learn something. Come to me to-morrow. My Sandra, I will kiss you. These shudderings of mine have no meaning.
The signora embraced her, and took Ammianis salute upon her fingers.
Sour fingers! he said. She leaned her cheek to him, whispering, I could easily be persuaded to betray you.
He answered, I must have some merit in not betraying myself.
At each elbow! she laughed. You show the thumps of an electric battery at each elbow, and expect your Goddess of lightnings not to see that she moves you. Go. You have not sided with me, and I am right, and I am a woman. By the way, Sandra mia, I would beg the loan of your Beppo for two hours or less.