Chapter 11
Chapter 11 A Farewell Nicola by Guy Boothby This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 11 When I had picked up Nicola we continued our voyage. Dawn was just breaking and Venice appeared very strange and uncanny in the weird morning light.
A cold wind was blowing in from the sea, and when I experienced its sharpness I could not help feeling thankful that I had the foresight to bring my cloak. How do you know where the meeting is to take place? I asked after we had been travelling for a few minutes. Because when I am unable to find things out for myself I have agents who can do it for me, he replied. What would appear difficult in reality is very simple.
To reach the place in question it would be necessary for them to employ gondolas, and for the reason that, as you are aware, there are not many plying in the streets of Venice at such an early hour. It would be incumbent upon them to bespeak them beforehand. Few inquiries among the gondoliers elicited the information I wanted. That point satisfactorily settled, the rest was easy.
And do you think we should be there in time to prevent the meeting, I asked? We should be at the rendezvous before they are, he answered, and I have promised you they shall not fight. Comforted by this reassuring news, I settled myself down to watch the tortuous thoroughfares through which we will panel soon. Presently we passed the church of St Maria di Formosa, and later the Ducal Palace, bent out into the commencement at the Grand Canal itself.
It was then that Nicola urged the gondoliers, for we had two, to greater speed. Under their powerful strokes the light little craft sped over the smooth bay, past the island of St Giorgio Maggiore, and then turned almost due south. I thought of Glenn Bath and wondered what his feelings were at that moment. At last I began to have an inkling of our destination.
We were proceeding in the direction of the Lido, and it was upon the sandy beach that separates the lagoons and Venice from the open sea that the duel was to be fought. Presently we landed, and Nicola said something to the gondoliers, who turned their craft and moved slowly away. After walking along the sands for some distance, we hid ourselves at a place where it was possible to see the strip of beach, where we ourselves remained hidden.
They will not be here before another ten minutes, said Nicola, consulting his watch. We had a good start of them. Seating ourselves, we awaited their arrival, and while we did so, Nicola talked of the value set upon human life by the inhabitants of different countries. No one was more competent to speak on such a subject than he. We had seen it in every climb, in every phase.
He spoke with a bitterness and a greater scorn for the petty vanities and aims of men than I had ever noticed in him before. Suddenly he stopped, and looking towards the left said, If I'm not mistaken, the Duke of Glen Bath has arrived. I looked in the direction indicated, and was able to describe the tall figure of the Duke coming along the sands. A little later two other persons made their appearance and followed him.
One was undoubtedly the don, but who was the third? As they drew closer, I discovered that he was unknown to me. Not so to Nicola, however. Burma cedar, he said to himself, and there was an ugly sneer upon his face. The Duke bowed ceremoniously to the two men, and the stranger having returned his salute, knelt upon the sand,
and proceeded to open a box he had brought with him. From it he produced a pair of pistols which he loaded with ostentatious care. The work finished, he took them by their barrels, and gave Glen Bath his choice. The Spaniard, I noticed, was dressed entirely in black, not showing a particle of white. The Duke was a time very much as usual.
When each had taken a pistol, the stranger measured the distance upon the sands, and allotted them their respective positions. By this time I was in such a fever of excitement that Nicola laid his hand upon my arm to restrain me. Wait, he whispered. I have not pledged you my word that your friend shall not be hurt. Do not interrupt them yet.
I have my suspicions, and I am anxious to confirm them. I accordingly waited. But though it was only for a few seconds, it seemed to me an eternity. The two men were in position, and the stranger I gathered was giving in their final instructions. They were to stand with their faces turned for each other, and at the word of command would he wheel round and fire.
In a flash I saw what Nicola had in his mind. The stranger was favouring the don, for while Glen Bath would have faithfully carried out his portion of the contract, the spaniard did not turn at all, a fact which his opponent was scarcely likely to become aware of, seeing that he would in all probability have a bullet in his heart before he had had time to realise the trick that had been played upon him. The stranger raised his hand above his head and was about to give the signal when Nicola sprang from beside me, and a loud voice called them to stop.
I rose to my feet at the same instant and followed him across the sands to where the men stood. I shall do nothing of the kind, the duke returned. On learning this Nicola took him to one side and talked earnestly with him for a few minutes, then stood with his hand upon the other's arm, leading back to where we were standing. I expressed my regret for having challenged you, said Glen Bath, but with no good grace.
I thank you, your grace, said Nicola. And then turning to the don he went, and now, Don Martinez, I hope you will apologise to the duke for the insults that occasioned the challenge. With an oath the spaniard vowed that he was the last man to do anything of the kind. He had never apologised to any man in his life and he was not going to do so now. With more to the same effect, then Nicola fixed his glittering eyes upon him.
His voice, however, when he spoke, was as conciliatory as ever. To oblige me you will do it, he said, and drawing a little closer to him he murmured something that we could not hear. The effect upon the don was magical. His face turned a leaden hue, and for a moment I thought he would have fallen, but he recovered his self-possession with an effort and muttered the apology Nicola had demanded of him.
I thank you, gentlemen, said Nicola. Now, with your permission, we will return to the city. Here he wheeled round upon the stranger and continued, This is not the first of these little affairs which you have played a part. You have been warned before, or profited by it, for the time may come when it will be too late.
Remember Pietro Salomi. I don't know who Pietro Salomi may have been, but I know that the mere mention of his name was sufficient to take all the swagger out of the stranger. He felt it pieces like a house of cards. Now, gentlemen, let us be moving, said Nicola, and taking the don with him he set off quickly
in the direction of the spot where we had disembarked from the gondola. I followed with the duke. My dear boy, I said as we walked along, Why on earth did you do it? Is your life so little value to yourself or to your friends
that you try to throw it away in this reckless fashion? I am the most miserable brute on the face of the earth, he replied. I think it would have been far better for me had I been shot back there. Look here, Gran Bath, I said with some anger. If you talk nonsense in this manner, I shall begin to think you are not accountable for your actions.
On earth have you got to be so unhappy about? You know very well, he answered gloomily. You're making yourself miserable because Miss Trevor will not marry you, I said. Even I asked her. How therefore can you tell? She seems to prefer Don Martino's, he went on.
Oh, fiddle-sticks, I answered. I thought you said she hasn't thought of him in that way. Now I'm going to talk plainly to you. I've made up my mind that we leave for Rome today. We shall spend a fortnight there.
And you should have a fair opportunity of putting the question to Miss Trevor. If you can't do it in that time, well, all I can say is you're not the man I took you for. You must remember one thing, however. I'll have no more of this nonsense. It's all very well for a Spanish braggart to go swaggering about the world,
endeavoring to put bullets into inoffensive people. But it's not the thing for an English gentleman. I'm sorry, Dick. Try to forgive me. You won't tell Lady Hatteras, will you? She knows already, I answered.
I don't fancy you'd get much sympathy from her. Try for a moment to picture what their feelings would have been. Mine may be left out of the question. If you'd been lying dead on the beach yonder, think of your relations at home. What would they have said and thought? And for what?
Because he insulted me, Glen Bartholomew, was I to put up with that? You should have treated him with a contempt he merited. There, do not let us discuss the matter any further. All's well that ends well. I don't think we shall see much more of the Don.
When we reached the gondolas, Nicola took me aside. He'd better return to the city with the duke in one, he said. I will take the Don back in another. What about the other fellow, I inquired? Let him swim, if he likes, said Nicola with a shrug of his shoulders.
By the way, I suppose you saw what took place back yonder. I nodded. And say nothing about it, he replied. Such matters are best kept to oneself. There's a very sober-minded and reflective young man that sat down to breakfast with us that morning.
My wife, seeing her matter stood, laid herself out to be especially kind to him. So affable indeed was she that Miss Trevor regarded her with considerable surprise. During the meal, the journey to Rome was discussed, and it was decided that I should telegraph for our old rooms, and that we should leave Venice at half past two.
This arrangement was duly carried out, and Nightfall saw us well advanced on our journey to the capital. The journey is so well known that I need not attempt to describe it here. Only one incident struck me as remarkable about it. No sooner had we crossed the railway bridge that unites Venice with the mainland,
than Miss Trevor's lethargy, if I may so describe it, suddenly left her. She seemed to be her old self instantly. It was though she had at last thrown off the load under which she had so long been staggering. She laughed and joked with my wife, teased her father, was even inclined to be flippant with the head of the family.
After the events of the morning, the effect upon the Duke was just what was wanted. In due course we reached Rome, and restored ourselves at our old quarters in the Piazza Babarini. From that moment the time had allowed ourselves sped by on lightning wings. It seemed scarcely to have got there before it was time to go back to Venice. It was unfortunately necessary for the Dean to return to England at the end of our stay in Rome,
and though it was considerably out of his way, he proposed journeying thither by way of Venice. The change had certainly done his daughter good, she was quite her old self once more, and the listless preoccupied air that had taken such a hold upon her in Venice had entirely disappeared. Make the most of the eternal city, my wife announced at dinner on the eve of our departure, for tomorrow morning you will look your last upon it.
The dragon who has us in his power has issued his decree, and like the laws of the Medes and Persians change is not. A dragon, I answered, you should say the family scapegoat. I protest you, my dear Dean, that it is most unfair. If it is some disagreeable duty to be performed, then it is by my order.
If it is something that will bestow happiness upon another, then it is my lady that gets the credit. A very proper arrangement, said my wife, as I am sure the Dean will agree with me. I agree with you in everything, replied the polite old gentleman, because I do otherwise. I appealed to the Duke then, is it your gracious opinion that a husband should have necessity take upon himself the properties of a dragon?
I am not going to be drawn into an argument with you, he said, if Lady Hatteras calls you a dragon, then a dragon you must remain until the end of the chapter, as far as I am concerned. Phyllis is always right, answered Miss Trevor unblushingly. I give in, I said in mock despair. If all of you are against me, I am undone. It was a beautiful moonlit night when we rose from dinner,
and it was arranged that the last evening in Rome should be spent in a visit to the Colosseum. Carriage was immediately ordered, and when the ladies had wrapped themselves up warmly, we set off. To those unfortunate individuals who have not had an opportunity visiting that ancient structure, I can only justify my incompetency by saying that it would be well nigh impossible to furnish a description that would give them an adequate idea of the feeling of awe it inspires in one.
By moonlight it presents a picture that for solemn grandeur is to my thinking without as equal in the world. Pompeii by moonlight suggests reflections. The great square of St Mark's in Venice, seen by the same mellow light, is a sight never to be forgotten. But in my humble opinion the Colosseum eclipses them all. We entered it and stood in the great ring, looking up at the tears of seats and recalling its past.
The dean was profoundly impressed and spoke of the men who had given up their lives in martyrdom within those great walls. How many of the crowd gathered here to witness the agony of the tortured Christians, he said, believed that the very religion which they so heartily despised was destined to sway the world and to see the mighty Colosseum and the mighty power that built it a ruin. It is a wonderful thought.
After the dean's speech we crossed to a spot where the better view was obtainable. It was only then that we discovered that the Duke and Miss Trevor were not of our party. When, however, it was time to return they emerged from the shadow and followed us out. Both were unusually silent and my wife, putting two and two together in her own fashion, came to the conclusion they had quarrelled.
When later on the Duke and I were alone together and the ladies and the dean had retired to their respective rooms, I was about to take him to task when he stopped me. Dick old man, he said with a solemnity that could not have been greater had he been telling me of some great tragedy, I want you to give me your congratulations. Miss Trevor has consented to become my wife. I was so surprised I scarcely knew what to do or say.
Gracious man, why are you so downcast? I replied. I had made up my mind that she had refused you. I am far from being downcast, he said as solemnly as before. I am the happiest man in the world. Can't you understand how I feel?
Somehow, now that it is over and I have won her, it seems so great a thing that it almost overwhelms me. You don't know, Dick, how proud I am that she should have taken me. And so you ought to be, I said enthusiastically. I have a splendid wife and I know you will make a good husband. I don't deserve it, Dick, he continued in humiliating self-abasement.
She's too good for me, much too good. I remember that I said the same thing myself, I replied. Come to me in five years' time and let me hear what you have to say then. Confound you, he answered. Why do you talk like that? Because it's the way of the world, my lad, I answered.
But there you'll learn all for yourself soon enough. And let me order a whisky and potash for you and then off you go to bed. A whisky and potash, he cried with a heart that depicted on his face. Do you think I'm going to drink whisky on a night that she's accepted me? You must be mad. Well, have it your own way, I answered. For my own part I have no such scruples.
I have been married too long. I rang the bell and when my refreshment was brought to me, drank it slowly as became a philosopher. It would appear that Miss Trevor had already told my wife, for I was destined to listen to a considerable amount of information concerning it before I was allowed to close my eyes that night. I always said they were suited to each other, she observed. She will make an ideal duchess.
I think he may consider himself a very lucky fellow. What did he say about it? He admitted that he was not nearly good enough for her. That was nice of him, but what did you say? I told him to come to me in five years' time and let me hear what he had to say then, I answered with a yawn.
I had no idea that I should get into trouble over that remark. I was not mistaken. I was told that as it was an unfeeling thing to have said, that it was not the sort of idea to put it to a young man's head at such a time. And that if everyone had such a good wife as some other people she could name, they would have reason to thank their good fortune. I'm not mistaken.
You told me you were not good enough for me when I accepted you, she retorted. What do you say now? Exactly what I said then, I answered diplomatically. I am not good enough for you. You should have married the Dean.
He will be Glenbeth's father-in-law directly, I said with a chuckle. And then that young man will have to drink his clout and listen to his sermons. In consideration of that, I will forgive him all his sins against me. Then I fell asleep to dream that I was a rival of St George chasing a dragon over the seats of the Coliseum. Defied when I had run into Earth that he had assumed human shape, I was no other than my old friend the Dean of Bedminster.
Next morning the young couple's behaviour at breakfast was circumspection itself. The worthy old Dean ate his breakfast, unconscious of the shell that was to be dropped into his camp an hour later, while my wife purred approval over the teapot. Meanwhile, I wondered what Nicola would have to say when he heard of the engagement. After the meal was over, we left the Duke and Dean together. Somehow I don't think Glenbeth was exactly at his ease.
When he reappeared half an hour later and shook me by the hand, he vowed that the old gentleman was the biggest Trump in the world, and that I was the next. From this I gathered that the matter had been satisfactorily settled, and that so far as his parental consent was concerned, Miss Gertrude Trevor was likely to become the Duchess of Glenbeth, without any unnecessary delay. Though there was not much time to spare before our train started,
it was still sufficient for the lovers to make a journey to the Piazza di Trevi, where the magnificent diamond ring was purchased to celebrate the engagement. A bracelet would have made any woman's mouth water, was also dedicated for the same purpose. A memorial bracelet in the Etruscan model was next purchased for my wife, and was handed to her later on by her grateful friends.
You did so much for us, said the Duke simply when Miss Trevor made the presentation. My lady thereupon kissed Miss Trevor and thanked the Duke while I looked on in amazement. Come now, I said, I call that scarcely fair. Is the poor dragon to receive nothing? I was under the impression I had done more than anyone to bring about this happy result. You shall have our gratitude, Miss Trevor replied. That would be so nice, wouldn't it?
I see what the Duke says in five years I answered, and with this Parthian shot I left them. Next morning we reached Venice. The journey had been a very pleasant one, but I must say that I was not sorry when it was over. The picture of two young lovers gazing with devotion into each other's eyes hour after hour is apt to pile upon one.
When we had left Mestere behind us and were approaching the bridge I have described before as connecting Venice with the mainland, when I noticed that Gertrude Trevor had suddenly become silent and preoccupied. She had a headache, she declared to my wife, but thought it would soon pass off. Enriching the railway station we charted a barcode to take us to our hotel.
When we reached it, Gallagherti was on the steps to receive us, his honest face beamed with satisfaction. The compliments he paid my wife when she set foot upon the steps were such as to cover her with confusion. I directed my party to go upstairs and then drew the old man on one side.
Don Jose di Martino, I asked, knowing that it was sufficient merely to mention his name. He's gone, my lord, Gallagherti replied. Since he was a friend of yours, I am sorry I could not keep him no longer. Perhaps your lordship does not know that he has gambled all his money away and that he has not even enough left to discharge his indebtedness to me.
I certainly did not know, I replied. I am sorry to hear it. Where is he now? I could not say, Gallagherti replied, but doubtless I could find out if your lordship desires to know. When bidding him good day, I made my way up the stairs, turning over in my mind what I had heard. I was not at all surprised to hear that the dawn had come to grief, though I had not expected that the catastrophe would happen in so short a time.
It was satisfactory to know, however, that in all probability he would never trouble us again. In the afternoon, according to custom, we spent an hour at Florian's Caffe. The Duke and Goethe had strolled up and down, while my wife drew my attention to their happiness. I had on several occasions sang Glen Bath's praises to the Dean, and as a result the old gentleman was charmed with his future son-in-law
and seemed to think that the summer of his ambition had been achieved. During our sojourn on the piazza I kept my eyes open, for I was in hopes of seeing Nicola, but I saw nothing of him. If I was not successful in that way, however, I was more so in another. I had found a budget of letters awaiting me on my return from Rome, and as two of them necessitated my sending telegrams to England,
I allowed the rest of the party to return to the Hotel Boy boat, while I made my way to the Telegraph office. Having sent them off, I walked on to the Rio del Barcolli. I gauged a gondola there and was about to step into it when I became aware of a man watching me. He proved to be no other than the Spaniard Don Martinez. But so great was the change in him that for a moment I scarcely recognized him.
Though only a fortnight had elapsed since I had last seen him, he had shrunk to what was only a shadow of his former self. His face was of a pasty, fishy whiteness. His eyes had a light in them that I had not seen there before. For a moment I thought he had been drinking, and this unnatural appearance was the result.
Remembering his murderous intention on the morning of the frustrated duel, I felt inclined not to speak to him. My pity, however, got the better of me, and I bade him good day. He did not return my salutation, however, but looked at me as if I was someone he had seen before, but could not remember where. I then addressed him by name. In reply he beckoned me to follow him out of Earshot and the Gondolier.
I cannot remember your name, he said, gripping me by the arm. But I know that I have met you before. I cannot remember anything now, because, because... Here he paused and put his hand to his forehead as if he were in pain. I endeavored to make him understand who I was, but without success.
He shook his head and looked at me, talking for a moment in Italian, then in Spanish, with interludes of English. A more pitiable condition for a man to get into could scarcely be imagined. At last I tried him with a question that I thought might have some effect upon him. Have you met Dr Nicola lately, I inquire? The effect it produced upon him was instantaneous.
He shrunk from me as if he had been struck, and leaning against the wall of the house behind him, trembled like an aspen leaf. For a man usually so self-assertive, one might almost say so aggressive, here was a terrible change. I was more than ever at a loss to account for it. He is the last man I should have thought would have been taken in such a way. Don't tell him, you must not tell him, promise me that you will not do so, he whispered in English.
He would punish me if he knew, and here he felt a whimpering like a child who feared chastisement. It was not a pretty exhibition, and I was more shocked by it than I can say. At this juncture I remembered the fact that it was without means, and as my heart had been touched by his pathetic condition, I was anxious to render him such assistance as was in my power. For this reason I endeavoured to press a loan upon him, telling him that he could repay me when things brightened. I know, he answered, with a flash of his old spirit.
He then uttered in a whisper, he would know of it. Who would know of it, I asked. Dr Nicola, he answered. Then laying his hand upon my arm again, and placing his mouth close to my ear, as if he were anxious to make sure that no one else should hear, he went on. I would rather die of starvation in the streets than fall into his hands. Look at me, he continued after a moment's pause.
Look at what I am. I tell you he's got me body and soul. I cannot escape from him. I have no will but his, and he is killing me inch by inch. I've tried to escape, but it's impossible. If I were on the other side of the world and he wanted me, I should be obliged to come. Then with another change, as swift as he thought, he began to defy Nicola, bearing that he would go away, that nothing should ever induce him to see him again.
But a moment later he was back in his old condition once more. Farewell, Signor, he whispered. I must be going. There is no time to lose. He is awaiting me. But you've not told me where you're living now. Cannot you guess, he answered, still in the same curious voice. My home is the palace of Avicii in the Rio del Consiglio.
It was a surprise indeed that Don had gone to live with Nicola. Was it kindness that had induced the latter to take him in? If not, what were his reasons for so doing? End of chapter 11
