Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 107: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

94 JOSEPH WILMCT; OR, THE MEMOIRSOF A MAN-SERVANT. “ All this is perfectly true,’ I answered. “But with reference to the question you ere now put to me, I will at once give you an explanation. On that night when our liberation was accomplished, Signor Volterra exacted from me a pledge that I would not name to you who our delivyerer was: but on the other hand, I insisted—as the condition of this pledge—that he should not again present himself to your family after I had thus found him in the midst of banditti.” “ Yes—if was natural that you should take that step,” observed Olivia, in a musing tone: and then she relapsed imto a profound reverie, her head drooping upon the swan-like neck whieh sustained it, like a flower upon its stalk. “I thought at first,’ she at length continued, slowly raising her looks, “that the tale which Captain Raymond told my parents, and which they repeated to me, was a wicked invention nay, more, a detestable arti- fice—until I was assured that you yourself could corroborate it ; and that you likewise could tell me how Signor Volterra fled precipitately last night from Dicomano when the dreadful cry was raised that he was one of Uberti’s band. I was therefore resolved to hear the truth from your lips, whatever it might be: but I dared not anticipate that you would be enabled to give me such cheering assur- ances as those which with a generous readiness you have afforded.” * Miss Sackville,” I replied, “as certain as it is that I have a soul to be saved, so sure am I that Signor Volterra’s statement, contained in that letter which you have about you, is based upon the strictest truth. He says that he is not what he seems; and all his conduct proves that the assertion is correct. Listen to one incident! In the obscurity of the night I was riding towards the banditti’s stronghold, when some one galloped to- wards me, with a warning not to run headlong into the lion’s den. At that moment he knew not to whom he was addressing himself——” * And it was Angelo—it was Signor Volterra ?” exclaimed Olivia, with joy depicted on her counte- nance. *“ Yes—it was he,” I answered; “and therefore it is impossible he can be a bandit !” ‘Again did Miss Sackville clasp her hands in fer- vid gratitude for the additional proof thus afforded of her lover’s integrity; and then she exclaimed, with a sudden revulsion of feeling, “ But, Oh! what perils must environ him amongst that dread- ful gang of desperadoes! If he have gone to their tower with the generous purpose of thwarting their projects—of rendering assistance to travellers or to eaptives where he safely may—and perhaps of eventually delivermg the whole band up to justice, the most trifling incident may betray his object, and how fearful would their vengeance be!” The unfortunate lady was again overwhelmed with grief: but I said all that I could to console her. Irepresented that Signor Volterra was evi- dently working out his purpose, whatever it might be, with the strictest caution, and that he con- ducted all his proceedings in a way the least caleu- lated to excite the suspicion of the outlaws amongst whom he had thrown himself. “ At the same time,” I added, “I can scarcely think, Miss Sackville, that you have fathomed all the aims which Signor Volterra has in view. If they were limited to the mere frustration of the — > + most diabolical parts of the outlaw’s proceedings, and to the intention of seeking an opportunity to surrender them up to justice, he would not have hesitated to admit me so far into his confidence, and to haye enabled me to explain that much to yourself. But there is a deeper mystery still of this I feel convinced, @ mystery which for the present he dares not reveal, and which we cannot penetrate.” “Oh! let us hope,” exclaimed Olivia, “that whatever his object be, he will succeed in its accomplishment — that no adverse circumstance may bring destruction upon his head—and that the time is not far distant when he will be enabled, as he himself expresses it, to fling off the odious veil of mystery !” “T entertain every hope!” I answered confi- dently: “for Signor Volterra possesses all those qualities of firmness, prudence, perseverance, and magnanimity, which when combined, so seldom fail in the achievement of their end.” “T have no power to convey the deep sense of my gratitude for every cheering word you have uttered, and for every generous assurance you have given:’—and as Olivia thus spoke with tears in her eyes but with smiles upon her lips, she proffered me her hand. I took it respectfully, and then quitted her pre- senee. Bessy, who had been upon the watch in the passage outside, bent an inquiring look upon me; and I whispered to her, “ Go to Miss Olivia: you will find that I have indeed been able to breathe consoling words, and to raise her up from the depth of affliction.” Not choosing to stand the chance of encounter- ing the somewhat inquisitive vaiet oftener than I could help, I issued from the hotel to take a walk through the streets of Florence. After rambling for some time, I entered areading-room—or rather a coffee-house—where English papers were taken ; and I sate down to while away an hour with those journals. Presently the door opened: I mecha- nically looked up—and for the moment I was smitten with an uneasy feeling on encountering the hideous looks of Mr. Lanover. He stopped short upon the threshold for an instant: then, as if suddenly recollecting himself, he came forward, and offering me his hand, said, “ My dear Joseph, this is indeed an unexpected pleasure !” “T do not think, Mr. Lanover,” I answered, “that my presence ever afforded you any plea- sure :’—and I did not take the outstretched hand of the miscreant who had consigned Annabel and her relatives—aye, even his own wife—to the cus- tody of the lawless bandits. “T should like to have a word or two with you,” said Mr. Lanover, after a few moments’ reflection. “ Will you step out and walk with me along the street ?” “Tt is evening,” I answered coldly and firmly ; “and I trust myself not with evil-doers in those hours of darkness which are most favourable to their treacheries and atrocities.” “You cannot conquer this habit of bitter speaking,” rejoined the humpback, with a malig- nant sneer: but that sardonic expression vanished instantaneously from his counfenance—and he added with that air of cajoling friendliness which in his villanous hypocrisy he could so well assume, Will you step with me intoa private apartment ? Gaook (EO)