The Corsican Brothers Part 11

"I was suddenly awakened by three violent blows upon the door of the chamber; I got out of bed and walked across the floor to open it.

"'Where are you going?' asked my cousin.

"She had herself been awakened by the noise, but could not overcome her terror, knowing very well that as the front door was fastened no one would be likely to come to the room in which we were sleeping.

"'I am going to open the door to my father, who has come to bid me adieu,' I replied.

"It was then she jumped out of bed and insisted upon my lying down again. I cried for a long time and very bitterly, saying, 'Papa is at the door, and I want to see papa again before he goes away for ever.'"

"And has the apparition ever returned since?" asked Lucien.

"No, although I have often called upon it; but, perhaps, Providence permitted to the innocence and purity of the child what it declines to accord to the sinfulness of the man."

"Well, then," said Lucien smiling, "in our family we are more fortunate than you."

"Then you are enabled to see your deceased parents?"

"Yes, always when any great event is about to happen or has been accomplished."

"And to what do you attribute this privilege?"

"I will tell you the tradition that has been handed down. You remember that I told you that Savilia died leaving two sons."

"Yes, I recollect."

"Well, these children grew up concentrating on each other the affection they would have bestowed on other relatives had any been alive. They swore nothing should separate them, not even death, and after some incantation or other they wrote with their blood on two pieces of parchment, which they exchanged, the reciprocal oath that whichever died first should appear to the other at the moment of his own death, and, subsequently, at every important epoch of his brother's life. Three months afterwards one of the two brothers was killed in an ambuscade at the moment when the survivor was sealing a letter addressed to him. Just as he was pressing the signet upon the burning wax he heard a sigh behind him, and, turning round, perceived his brother standing behind him, and touching his shoulder, although he felt no pressure from the hand. Then, by a mechanical movement, he held out the letter that was destined for his brother, the spirit took the letter and disappeared. On the night before the survivor's death, the ghost appeared again.

"There is no doubt that the brothers not only made this engagement for themselves, but it applies also to their descendants, for spirits have appeared not only at the moment of the death of those who had pa.s.sed away, but also on the eve of any great event in their lives."

"And have you never seen any apparition?"

"No; but like my father, who, during the night preceding his death, was warned by his father that he was about to die, so I presume my brother and I inherit the privilege of our ancestors, not having done anything to forfeit it."

"And is this privilege accorded to the males of the family only?"

"Yes."

"That is strange."

"It is as I say."

I looked at the young man as he was speaking to me. He was cool, calm, and grave, and I could not help repeating with Hamlet--

"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

In Paris I should have thought that this young man was hoaxing me; but here in Corsica, in a little unknown village, one must look upon him either as a foolish person endeavouring to deceive one for his own purposes, or as a privileged being amongst other men.

"And now," he said, after a long silence, "are you satisfied?"

"Yes, thank you," I answered. "I appreciate your confidence, and will promise to keep your secret."

"Oh, goodness," he said, laughing, "there is no secret in the matter--the first peasant you meet would tell you all I have told you; I only hope that in Paris my brother has not boasted of this privilege, which would only cause men to laugh, and would frighten the ladies."

So saying, he bade me good-night, and retired to his room.

Although fatigued, I was not able to sleep for some time, and when I did at last sleep I was restless.

I appeared to see in a confused manner in my dreams all the people with whom I had come in contact that day. It was only when day broke that I fell into a sound sleep, and was awakened by the striking of a clock, close to my bed, apparently.

I rang the bell, without rising, for my lazy predecessor had provided a bell-rope close at hand, the only one probably in the village.

Griffo immediately appeared, carrying some warm water; I saw that this valet had been well drilled.

Lucien, he said, had twice inquired whether I was awake, and had told him that if I did not ring before half-past nine he would call me.

It was now twenty-five minutes past nine, so it would not be long before he came.

He soon made his appearance, dressed very elegantly in French style, with a black frock coat and white trowsers.

He noticed that I looked at him with some surprise.

"I hope you are admiring my dress," he said; "another proof that I am becoming civilized."

"Yes, indeed," I replied, "and I confess I am considerably astonished to find that you possess such a tailor in Ajaccio. I shall look quite the country b.u.mpkin beside you."

"I a.s.sure you my dress is quite Parisian, my dear friend. You see my brother and I being exactly the same height, he for a joke sent me a regular outfit, which I only wear on grand occasions, to receive the prefect, for instance, or when the commandant makes his departmental inspection; or, better still, when I receive a guest like yourself, and when that pleasure is combined with such important business as we are about to accomplish to-day."

There was in this young man's manner of speaking a polished irony, and good-nature withal, which at once set people at their ease, and never pa.s.sed the bounds of perfect politeness.

I simply bowed in reply, while he carefully inducted his hands into a pair of kid gloves of Paris manufacture.

As now attired, he looked a thorough Parisian.

All this time I was dressing rapidly.

A quarter to ten struck.

"Come along," said Lucien, "if you wish to see the play. I think it is time we took our seats, unless, indeed, you would rather have breakfast first, which appears to me only reasonable."

"Thank you, I seldom eat before eleven or twelve, so I am ready to face both operations."

"Come along, then."

I took up my hat and followed him upstairs.

CHAPTER XI.