Gerald Fitzgerald: The Chevalier Part 48

'So, then, he knows of your secret,' said the Cardinal with a sly malice.

'He knew of this youth's birth and station ere I did myself: he was the confessor of the Fitzgerald family, and attended Grace on her deathbed.'

'Hussey, then, believes this story?'

'He would swear to its truth, your Eminence.'

'He is a crafty fellow, and one not easily to be deceived,' said Caraffa, musing. 'Let me see his letter.'

He took the letter from the Pere, and perused it carefully.

'I see little in this,' said he, handing it back, 'that you have not already told me.'

'I have endeavoured to make your Eminence acquainted with everything that occurred,' said Ma.s.soni with downcast eyes, but yet contriving to watch the countenance of the other attentively.

'Monsignor Hussey, then, recommends in case of any backwardness--such is his phrase--that you yourself should reveal to this youth the story of his descent. Have you thought over this counsel?'

'I have, your Eminence.'

'Well, and to what conclusion has it led you?'

'That there was no other course open to me,' said Ma.s.soni firmly.

The Cardinal's brow darkened, and he turned upon the Pere a look of insolent defiance.

'So, then, Pere Ma.s.soni, this is to be a trial of skill between us; but I will not accept the challenge, sir. It is without shame that I confess myself unequal to a Jesuit in craftiness.'

The Pere never spoke, but stood with arms crossed and bent-down head as if in thought.

'It must be owned, sir,' continued Caraffa scoffingly, 'that you have no craven spirit. Most men, situated as you are, would have hesitated ere they selected for their adversary a Prince of the Church.'

Still was Ma.s.soni silent.

'While, as to your _protege_, with one word of mine to the Minister of Police, he would be driven out of Rome--out of the States of the Church--as a vagabond.'

The word had scarcely been uttered, when the door opened, and Gerald stood before them. For an instant he hesitated, abashed at his intrusion; but Ma.s.soni stepped hastily forward, and taking his hand, said--

'Your Eminence, this is the Chevalier!'

Caraffa, who had known Charles Edward in his early life, stood actually like one thunderstruck before the youth, so exactly was he his counterpart. His full and soft blue eyes, the long silky hair of a rich brown colour, falling heavily on his neck, the mouth, half pouting and half proud, and the full chin, roundly moulded as a woman's, were all there; while in his air and mien a resemblance no less striking was apparent. By artful thoughtfulness of the Jesuit father, the youth's dress was made to a.s.sist the schemes, for it was a suit of black velvet, such as Charles Edward used to wear when a young man; a blue silk under-vest, barely appearing, gave the impression that it was the ribbon of the garter, which the young Prince rarely laid aside.

Not all the eloquence and all the subtlety of Ma.s.soni could have accomplished the result which was in a moment effected by that apparition; and as Gerald stood half timidly, half haughtily there, Caraffa bowed low, and with all the deference he would have accorded to superior rank. For a second the dark eyes of the Jesuit flashed a gleam of triumph, but the next moment his look was calm and composed. The crafty Pere saw that the battle was won if the struggle could be but concluded at once, and so, addressing Gerald in a tone of marked deference, he said--

'I have long wished for the day when I should see this meeting; that its confidence may be unbroken and undisturbed, I will withdraw,' and with a separate reverence to each, the Pere backed to the door and retired.

Whatever suspicions might have occurred to the Cardinal's mind had he but time for reflection, there was now no opportunity to indulge. All had happened so rapidly, and above all there was still the spell over him of that resemblance, which seemed every moment to increase; such indeed was its influence, that it at once routed all the considerations of his prudent reserve, and made him forget everything save that he stood in the presence of a Stuart.

'If I am confused, sir, and agitated,' began he, 'at this our first meeting, lay it to the account of the marvellous resemblance by which you recall my recollection of the Prince, your father. I knew him when he was about your own age, and when he graciously distinguished me by many marks of his favour.'

'My father!' said Gerald, over whose face a deep crimson blush first spread, and then a pallor equally great succeeded--'did you say my father?'

'Yes, sir. It was my fortune to be a.s.sociated closely with his Royal Highness at St. Germains and afterward in Auvergne.'

Overcome by his feeling of amazement at what he heard, and yet unable to summon calmness to inquire further, Gerald sank into a chair, vainly trying to collect his faculties. Meanwhile Caraffa continued--

'As an old man and a priest I may be forgiven for yielding slowly to convictions, and for what almost would seem a reluctance to accept as fact the evidence of your birth and station; but your presence, sir--your features as you sit there, the image of your father--appeal to something more subtle than my reason, and I feel that I am in the presence of a Stuart. Let me, then, be the first to offer the homage that is, or at least one day will be, your right'; and so saying, the Cardinal took Gerald's hand and pressed it to his lips.

'Is this a dream?' muttered Gerald, half aloud--'is my brain wandering?'

'No, sir, you are awake; the past has been the dream--the long years of sorrow and poverty--the trials and perils of your life of accident and adventure--this has been the dream; but you are now awake to learn that you are the true-born descendant of a Royal House--a Prince of the Stuarts--the legitimate heir to a great throne!'

'I beseech you, sir,' cried Gerald, in a voice broken by emotion, while the tears filled his eyes, 'I beseech you, sir, not to trifle with the feelings of one whose heart has been so long the sport of fortune, that any, even the slightest shock, may prove too powerful for his strength.'

'You are, sir, all that I have said. My age and the dress I wear may be my guarantees that I do not speak idly nor rashly.'

A long-drawn sigh burst from the youth, and with it he fainted.

CHAPTER XIII. THE PeRE Ma.s.sONI'S MISGIVINGS

It was late at night, and all quiet and still in the Eternal City, as the Pere Ma.s.soni sat in his little study intent upon a large map which occupied the whole table before him. Strange blotches of colour marked in various places, patches of blue and deep red, with outlines the most irregular appeared here and there, leaving very little of the surface without some tint. It was a map of Ireland, on which the successive confiscations were marked, and the various changes of proprietorship indicated by different colours; a curious doc.u.ment, carefully drawn up, and which had cost the labour of some years. Ma.s.soni studied it with such deep intensity that he had not noticed the entrance of a servant, who now stood waiting to deliver a letter which he held in his hand.

At last he perceived the man, and, hastily s.n.a.t.c.hing the note, read to himself the following few lines--

'She will come to-morrow at noon. Give orders to admit her at once to him; but do not yourself be there.'

This was signed 'D' and carefully folded and sealed.

'That will do; you need not wait, said the Pere, and again he was alone.

For several minutes he continued to ponder over the scenes before him, and then, throwing them on the table, exclaimed aloud, 'And this is the boasted science of medicine! Here is the most learned physician of all Rome--the trusted of Popes and Cardinals--confessing that there are phases of human malady to which, while his art gives no clue--a certain mysterious agency--a something compounded of imposture and fanaticism, can read and decipher. What an ign.o.ble avowal is this, and what a sarcasm upon all intellect and its labours! And what will be said of me,' cried he, in a louder voice, 'if it be known that I have lent my credence to such a doctrine; that I, the head and leader of a great a.s.sociation, should stoop to take counsel from those who, if they be not cheats and impostors, must needs be worse! And, if worse, what then?'

muttered he, as he drew his hand across his brow as though to clear away some difficult and distressing thought. 'Ay, what then? Are there really diabolic agencies at work in those ministrations? Are these miraculous revelations that we hear of ascribable to evil influences?

What if it were not trick and legerdemain? What if Satan had really seized upon these pa.s.sers of base money to mingle his own coinage with theirs? If every imposture be his work, why should he not act through those who have contrived it? Oh, if we could but know what are the truthful suggestions of inspirations, and what the crafty devices of an erring brain! If, for instance, I could now see how far the great cause to which my life is devoted should be served or thwarted by the enterprise.'

He walked the room for nigh an hour in deep and silent meditation.

'I will see her myself,' cried he at length. 'All her stage tricks and cunning will avail her little with _me_; and if she really have high powers, why should they not be turned to our use? When Satan piled evil upon evil to show his strength, St. Francis made of the ma.s.s an altar?

Well, now, Giacomo, what is it?' asked he suddenly, as his servant entered.

'He has fallen asleep at last, reverend father,' answered he, 'and is breathing softly as a child. He cannot fail to be better for this repose, for it is now five days and nights since he has closed an eye.'

'Never since the night of the reception at Cardinal Abbezi's.'

'That was a fatal experiment, I much fear,' muttered Giacomo.

'It may have been so. Who knows--who ever did or could know with certainty the one true path out of difficulty?'

'When he came back on that night,' continued Giacomo, 'he would not suffer me to undress him, but threw himself down on the bed as he was, saying, "Leave me to myself; I would be alone."