Sunrise Part 82

Calabressa calmly waited for him; but in his heart he was saying exultingly, "_Ha! the dagger quivers in the board: his eyes are starting from his head; is it Calabressa or Cagliostro that has paralyzed him?_"

At length the wretched creature opposite him gasped out,

"Beratinsky--"

But he could say no more. He motioned to a waiter to bring him some soda-water.

"Yes, Beratinsky?" said Calabressa, calmly regarding the livid face.

"--has betrayed us!" he said, with trembling lips. In fact, there was no fight in him at all, no angry repudiation; he was helpless with this sudden bewilderment of fear.

"Not quite," said Calabressa; and he now spoke in a low, eager voice.

"It is for you to save yourself by forestalling him. It is your one chance; otherwise the decree; and good-bye to this world for you!

See--look at this card--I say it is your only chance, friend Reitzei--for I am empowered by the Council to promise you, or Beratinsky, or any one, a free pardon on confession. Oh, I a.s.sure you the truth is clear: has not one eyes? You, poor devil, you cannot speak: shall I go to Beratinsky and see whether he can speak?"

"What must I do--what must I do?" the other gasped, in abject terror.

Calabressa, regarding this exhibition of cowardice, could not help wondering how Lind had allowed such a creature to a.s.sociate with him.

Then Calabressa, sure of victory, began to breathe more freely. He a.s.sumed a lofty air.

"Trust in me, friend Reitzei. I will instruct you. If you can persuade the Council of the truth of your story, I promise you they will absolve you from the operations of a certain Clause which you know of. Meanwhile you will come to my lodgings and write a line to Lind, excusing yourself for the day; then this evening I dare say it will be convenient for you to start for Naples. Oh, I a.s.sure you, you owe me thanks: you did not know the danger you were in; hereafter you will say, 'Well, it was no other than Calabressa who pulled me out of that quagmire.'"

A few minutes thereafter Calabressa was in a telegraph-office, and this was the message he despatched:

"Colonna, London: to Bartolotti, Vicolo Isotta, No. 15, Naples. Ridotto will arrive immediately, colors down. Send orders for Luigi and Ba.s.sano to follow."

"It is a bold stroke," he was saying to himself, as he left the office, "but I have run some risks in my time. What is one more or less?"

CHAPTER LII.

FIAT JUSt.i.tIA.

This scheme of Calabressa's had been so rapidly conceived and put in execution, that he had had no time to think of its possible or certain consequences, in the event of his being successful. His immediate and sole anxiety was to make sure of his captive. There was always the chance that a frightened and feeble creature like Reitzei might double back; he might fly to Lind and Beratinsky, and seek security in a new compact; for who could prove any thing if the three were to maintain their innocence? However, as Calabressa shrewdly perceived, Reitzei was in the dark as to how much the Council knew already. Moreover, he had his suspicions of Beratinsky. If there was to be a betrayal, he was clearly resolved to have the benefit of it. Nevertheless, Calabressa did not lose sight of him for a moment. He took him to his, Calabressa's lodgings; kept a.s.suring him that he ought to be very grateful for being thus allowed to escape; got him to write and despatch a note to Lind, excusing himself for that day and the next, and then proceeded to give him instructions as to what he should do in Naples. These instructions, by-the-way, were entirely unnecessary; it is no part of Calabressa's plan to allow Reitzei to arrive in Naples alone.

After a mid-day meal, Calabressa and Reitzei walked up to the lodgings of the latter, where he got a few travelling things put together.

By-and-by they went to the railway station, Calabressa suggesting that it was better for Reitzei to get away from London as soon as possible.

The old albino saw his companion take his seat in the train for Dover, and then turned away and re-entered the busy world of the London streets.

The day was fine after the rain; the pavements were white and dry; he kept in the sunlight for the sake of the warmth; but he had not much attention for the sights and sounds around him. Now that this sudden scheme promised to be entirely successful, he could consider the probable consequences of that success; and, as usual, his first thought was about Natalie.

"Poor child--poor child!" he said to himself, rather sadly. "How could she tell how this would end? If she saves the life of her lover, it is at the cost of the life of her father. The poor child!--must misfortune meet her whichever way she turns?"

And then, too, some touch of compunction or even remorse entered into his own bosom. He had been so eager in the pursuit? he had been so anxious to acquit himself to the satisfaction of the Council, that he had scarcely remembered that his success would almost certainly involve the sacrifice of one who was at least an old colleague. Ferdinand Lind and Calabressa had never been the very best of friends; during one period, indeed, they had been rivals; but that had been forgotten in the course of years, and what Calabressa now remembered was that Lind and he had at least been companions in the old days.

"Seventeen years ago," he was thinking, "he forfeited his life to the Society, and they gave it back to him. They will not pardon him this time. And who is to take the news to Natalie and the beautiful brave child? Ah, what will she say? My G.o.d, is there no happiness for any one in this world?"

He was greatly distressed; but in his distress he became desperate. He would not look that way at all. He boldly justified himself for what he had done, and strove to regard it with satisfaction. What if both Lind and Beratinsky were to suffer; had they not merited any punishment that might befall them? Had they not compa.s.sed the destruction of an innocent man? Would it have been better, then, that George Brand should have become the victim of an infamous conspiracy? _Fiat just.i.tia!_--no matter at what cost. Natalie must face the truth. Better that the guilty should suffer than the innocent. And he, Calabressa, for one, was not going to shirk any responsibility for what might happen. He had obeyed the orders of the Council. He had done his duty: that was enough.

He forced himself not to think of Natalie, and of the dismay and horror with which she would learn of one of the consequences of her appeal.

This was a matter between men--to be settled by men: if the consciences of women were tender, it could not be helped. Calabressa walked faster and faster, as it he were trying to get away from something that followed and annoyed him. He pretended to himself that he was deeply interested in a shop-window here or there; occasionally he whistled; he sung "Vado a Napoli in barchetta" with forced gayety; he twisted his long white moustache, and then he made his way down to Brand's rooms.

Here he was also very gay.

"Now, my dear Monsieur Brand, to-day I have idleness; to-day I will talk to you; yesterday I could not."

"Unfortunately," said Brand, "our positions are reversed now, for here is a letter from Lind wanting me to go up to Lisle Street. It seems Reitzei has had to go off into the country, leaving a lot of correspondence--"

"You are, then, on good terms with Lind?" Calabressa interposed, quickly.

"Yes; why not?" said Brand, with a stare.

"I, also--I say, why not? It is excellent. Then you have no time for my chatter?" said Calabressa, carelessly regarding the open letter.

"At least you can tell me something about Natalie and her mother. Are they well? What hotel are they at?"

Calabressa laughed.

"Yes, yes, my friend Monsieur Brand, you say, 'Are they well?' What you mean is, 'What has taken them to Naples?' _Bien_, you are right to wonder; you will not have to wonder long. A little patience; you will hear something; do not be surprised. And you have no message, for example, by way of reply to the letter I brought you?"

"You are returning to Naples, then?"

"To-night. I will take a message for you: if you have no time now, send it to me at Charing Cross. Meanwhile, I take my leave."

Calabressa rose, but was persuaded to resume his seat.

"I see," said he, again laughing, "that you have a little time to hear about the two wanderers. Oh, they are in a good hotel, I a.s.sure you; pretty rooms; you look over to Capri; quite near you the Castello dell'

Ovo; and underneath your windows the waves--a charming view! And the little Natalushka, she has not lost her spirits: she says to me, 'Dear Mr. Calabressa, will you have the goodness to become my champion?' I say to her, 'Against all the world!' 'Oh no,' she answers, 'not quite so much as that. It is a man who sells agates and pebbles, and such things; and no matter when I go out, he will follow me, and thrust himself before me. Dear Mr. Calabressa, I do not want agates and pebbles, and he is more importunate than all the others put together; and the servants of the hotel can do nothing with him.' Oh, I a.s.sure you, it would have made you laugh--her pretence of gravity! I said nothing--not I; what is the use of making serious promises over trifles? But when I went out I encountered the gentleman with the agates and pebbles. 'Friend,' said I, 'a word with you. Skip, dance, be off with you to the steps of some other hotel; your presence is not agreeable here.' 'Who are you?' said he, naturally. 'No matter,' said I; 'but do you wish to be presented with two dozen of the school-master's sweetmeats?' 'Who are you?' said he again. Then I took him by the ear and whispered something to him. By the blood of Saint Peter, Monsieur Brand, you should have heard the quick snap of his box, and seen the heels of him as he darted off like an antelope! I tell you the grave-faced minx, that mocking Natalushka, who makes fun of old people like me--well, she shall not any more be troubled with agates and pebbles!"

"Then she is quite cheerful and happy?" said Brand, somewhat wondering.

"Sometimes," Calabressa said, more gravely. "One cannot always be anxious; one has glimpses of hope; then the spirit rises; the eyes laugh. You, for example, you do not seem much cast down?"

Brand avoided his inquisitive look, and merely said,

"One must take things as one finds them. There is no use repining over what happens."

Calabressa now rose and took his cap; then he laid it down on the table again.

"One moment before I go, my dear Monsieur Brand. I told you to expect news; perhaps you will not understand. Shall I show you something to help? Regard this: it is only a little trick; but it may help you to understand when the news comes to you."