A Heart-Song of To-day Part 31

"No, _ma belle_; I had intended sending a telegram from Lyons to the proprietor of my favourite hotel (securing apartments), knowing him to be a very decent fellow; but now, perforce," he added with an intent look, trying to read her, "my would-be landlord must go to the wall, while the doors of the villa obey the open sesame of yourself and its master."

"While we make our _entree_," said Vaura.

"And now as to our route," said Lady Esmondet.

"I should say," said Trevalyon, "through the Mount Cenis pa.s.s, to Turin, thence, by easy rail stages down to Rome, so that you will not be too fatigued; we should spend a day in the virgin-white, the spotless cathedral at Milan. Florence would be another rest, all among its flowers and time-honoured works of art; also resting a few days at the foot of the mountains, where we could enjoy walks and drives up the magnificent mountain slopes, and through ravines too wondrous in their beauty to be ever blotted from one's memory."

"Oh, yes; your route would be delightful," said Vaura eagerly; "by all means, G.o.d-mother dear, let us linger by the way."

"Yes, we can afford a few days to the pure loftiness of the mountains; the life of to-day is so practical, if full of shams that a day with nature is as a tonic to one's higher, inner, self."

"Just as I have felt, dear Lady Esmondet, when the social atmosphere at London has become too narrow for me; you both know, how at times, what has been sufficient for one, suddenly develops the bars, as it were, of a cage, which one must burst to breathe freely. How many months have I spent in these woods upon the mountains, with only my good dog, leaving my man domiciled at some pension below; the terrific grandeur of the peaks resting against the blue heavens, the majestic crags, restful valleys with verdure clad, or awfully steep precipices, all speaking to me of a higher power, were company enough. The beautiful lake of Bourget, has charmed me so that I must stay my steps, and did; gazing long into its mirrored surface. Then from its calm, the mighty torrents, wildly dashing and foaming, held me, when my mood was so; the many views from Chambery, too, woo one to linger.

There was one old ruin, which, if we come upon, I think you would greatly admire; it was on the ascent, down near Genoa, and where we could rest. Some Brothers of Saint Gregory, I think, is their order; such a quaint little chapel they have, which you should sketch, _ma belle_."

"I shall; and many other artist bits, I have ever longed to be so placed as to be able to do so."

"Lionel, have you ever tasted the Alpine trout? To me they are excellent."

"Yes, frequently, and always with an appet.i.te. Their home is in a lake 8,290 feet above the sea level."

"No wonder Roland Douglas has spoken so highly of them," said Vaura gaily; "their relations of the sea are quite under-bred. What stupendous pieces of work the mountain pa.s.ses are," she continued; "I wonder, could Hannibal see them, what he would think of dynamite _versus_ vinegar, to blast rocks with."

"Or poor, untiring Napoleon and his weary soldiers," said Lady Esmondet.

"What men there were in the bygone," said Lionel with twice our strength, twice our endurance; we are weary; though making the run cushion at back, stimulant in hand."

"We want backbone; our spinal column has given way, by reason of our fore-fathers' energy," said Vaura, laughingly.

"We certainly could manage an extra backbone very well," said her G.o.d-mother; "ah! what strength I had, when I journeyed South in seventy-five, I remember we went by rail from Bale to Milan, _via_ the St. Gotthard road; words are lifeless in describing the scenery along this route, being grandly, magnificent; one winds in and out among the mountains; at times in gazing out the coach windows, one's breath is a prayer, one trembles so at the terrific peaks soaring up and up so far above one."

CHAPTER XXV.

IN THE SUNBEAMS.

Our friends having reached Lyons, where they had business, and would rest for the night, we shall leave them and meet them again on the mountains. Suffice it to say they enjoyed the varied grandeur, beauty and magnificence of the scenes through which they pa.s.sed, as natures alive to the beauties of natural scenery alone can; the weather was charming, the coach not uncomfortable, and three happier in each other, or handsomer faces, had never before looked out upon the many charms of landscape. The snow-topped mountains, the small white fleecy clouds chasing each other across the blue sky, and looking as though gathered from the snow-flakes on their peaks. The varied tints of the trees, looking from a distance like a huge bouquet in the hand of Dame Nature; again, a mountain stream dashing headlong down, down, gathering strength as it rolls until lost in some sudden curve or wild projection. A gleaming crag with belts of pine now burst upon the view, in its rich dark dress, while here we have the delicate tints of the valley. Let us kneel here as we gaze on the giants of the forest, as they spread their huge arms and rear their proud heads to the sky, and thank heaven that in some favoured spots the timber is not the prey of the ruthless destroyer, man. What new country in G.o.d's world but has been shorn of its beauty to gratify man's unsatiable love of clearing; and the ignorant clod is not the only despoiler, for peer and peasant rival the great Liberal Leader in wielding the axe, the one to pay his debts, the other because he is only a clod; and Mother Earth is made barren, and her heart dry and hard, and she cannot give nourishment to the seedlings committed to her care.

For a few days of pure mountain air and scenery, we again meet Lady Esmondet and her companions, lingering at a small town east of Genoa; on the last day of their stay, they have taken a conveyance and, Sims as driver, in descending by another road they came suddenly upon one of those mediaeval castles, or rather its ruins, the greater part having fallen to decay.

"Eureka," exclaimed Lionel; "the quaint spot I have wished to see again; and which you should sketch, Miss Vernon."

The Brothers of Saint Gregory had, with tool and hammer, made the most of the ruins remaining; and here some twenty lived, sheltering the weary traveller. Our friends were almost close to the ruin ere observing it, it being hidden partly by a magnificent belt of pine, partly by a freak of nature, in shape of huge upheavals of rock, thrown up as it were from the earth's bowels, and in the clefts of which rocks, beautiful moss, hardy trailing plants, and ferns grew luxuriantly. Here the Brothers had built a tiny chapel, one side and part of roof being formed of these rocks, the other side, remainder of roof, and western entrance, were of stone and marble. The eastern end of beautiful specimens of Italian marble, the altar of pure white, its many coloured background throwing it out in all its purity; seats of rude stone; the floor strewn with sweet scented leaves and twigs, sending up when crushed by one's foot, a sweet odour as of incense. On our travellers nearing, a magnificent voice full of melody, fell upon the air.

"What a grand singer!" exclaimed Vaura, as they with one consent, deserted the carriage.

It was a Christmas anthem, "_Regina coeli loetare, alleluia, quia quem meruisti portare, alleluia, etc._"

"'Tis a beautiful spot, and a great and rich voice," said Lady Esmondet; "I wonder if petticoats are admitted."

"Even if not," said Vaura, "we can sit on the rocks or gra.s.sy seats and fill our ears with music, which, after we descend, will lift us to the heights once more."

In following a narrow, irregular path, which led to the iron gate of the garden, Lady Esmondet, becoming separated from her companions, Vaura climbed to a rock; just a foot-hold, to endeavour to ascertain her whereabouts; Lionel overtook her, as becoming dizzy, she would have fallen.

"Spring into my arms; there, that is it; do not fear," he said breathlessly.

"I was foolish to attempt it when you were not near," she said softly, as he loosened his hold on the level path.

"How glad I was to be in time, and you cannot know how my heart leaped when you had to come, to me and I held you in my arms, even for a moment," he says brokenly.

They come now to a few yards of narrow path, a steep precipice at one side. With a whispered "may I?" his arm is around her in guiding her steps; no word is spoken and we all know the silent ecstasy of such moments. A turn in the path and they come upon Lady Esmondet, seated on a rocky seat (she having taken a safer way) and listening to the sweet voice still singing.

"I wonder if they will admit us," said Lady Esmondet.

"I can try," answered Lionel, and moving down the few natural steps to the iron gate of the garden, rang the bell.

The gate was opened by a priest, an elderly man, severe of aspect, but courteous in manner, and a man of letters from his intellectual cast of countenance. In very good English, he said:

"In the name of Saint Gregory, I welcome you; whether you come for food for the soul or body, our prayers are yours, and our poor fare awaits you."

"Thank you, sir priest," said Lady Esmondet; "we shall just admire your chapel and garden and go on our way."

"We were attracted from the direct path by a magnificent voice within your walls," said Vaura.

"Yes, Brother Thomas is greatly gifted; well for him that his great powers are given to good, rather than to evil. The sacred festival of the birth of the Christ is so near, and our brother sings at Paris the joyful songs of his nativity. This being a Saint's day, some of the younger brothers of our order have begged our sweet singer of the churches to pour forth the notes of his melody, that they also, may feel as the Parisiens, the wonderful power and charm of his song."

"Such melody stirs one's very soul!" said Vaura earnestly, her large eyes full of moisture as the music thrills her.

"What a lull there seems!" said Lady Esmondet, "now that his voice is still."

"Yes!" said Vaura, "as if nature herself had been listening."

Lady Esmondet now introduced to Father Ignatius herself and companions, and as they followed the winding path from the chapel to the ruins, whither to the habitable wing they are bending their steps to partake of some slight refreshment, they come suddenly upon the owner of the throat, full of song, who is now kneeling beside a large urn, in which are some live coals, upon which he has just laid some elegantly bound volumes; he is pale and emaciated, but with the remains of wonderful beauty; with folded hands and eyes closed turned heavenward, on hearing footsteps he looks and would have started to his feet and flown, but by a visible effort restrained himself. On observing his agitation, Trevalyon suggested the turning into another path, but the stern priest objected.

"Yes! pray do," said Lady Esmondet, "there is a lovely shrub I should like a nearer view of."

"Be it so; I perceive, Monsieur, I mean," checking herself, "Brother Thomas is not yet free from the pride that lacks humility, that you being of the world he has left forever, have still power to stir his feelings, he was ashamed of his garb, but must steel his heart against such emotion."

"Poor fellow," said Vaura, in pitying tones, "he looks ill, and is perhaps weak and nervous, his habiliments look stiff and new, not seeming a part of him as yours, he has perhaps but lately joined your brotherhood, and all is strange as yet."

"You are right, Mlle. Vernon, his garb is as new as it is new for him to lift up his voice in the church, and while you partake of our poor fare, I shall pa.s.s away the time in telling you something of him."

They now enter the n.o.ble vaulted stone entrance with its ancient workmanship and ma.s.sive proportions, seeming in its substantial build to defy the destroying hand of time. The s.p.a.cious hall has been converted by the brothers into a refectory; the priest bidding them to the table on which were dried fruits from the northern, with fresh from the southern climes, English walnuts and biscuits, with a bottle of old French wine. Before his guests partook of the food, the priest kneeling, made the sign of the cross, asked a blessing, then seating himself a little apart, spoke as follows: