Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 169: what you’re looking at

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

| 156 J OSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. No doubt he had discovered some clue to the direc- , of Tivoli imagines that, under all circumstances, tion which his daughter had taken Aye! | the precautions for the Lady Antonia’s conceal- and more too!” I ejaculated, as another light now | ment are too well taken to be easily detected flashed in unto my mind: “he must have learnt enough to prove to him that it was I who had travelled with her! No wonder that he shunned me—no wonder that the Viscount behaved to me as he did !—and this will now explain the extraor- dinary conduct of the latter when before the ma- gistrate ! how erroveously I interpreted his allusions « What is all this, my dear friend ?” asked Avel- lino, in perfect astonishment: for I was indeed talking in a strain that was perfectly enigmatical to him. “ You speak of the Count’s shunning you— of the Viscount’s conduct to yourself—of scenes before magistrates What does it all mean? Sincerely do i hope that you have not in any way suffered on account of your generous con- duct, from first to last, towards my beloved and unhappy Antonia P” I explained to Avellino the whole transaction in respect to the assault and the magisterial investi- gation; and I frankly informed him that fora certain period of my life until very recently, I had been compelled to earn my bread in a menial capa- city. He grasped my hand with the same affec- tionate warmth as before,—assuring me that the avowal I had just made would rather strengthen than impair the friendship he experienced towards me. “TI now understand everything,” I exclaimed, “in respect to that transaction of yesterday with the Viscount. I fancied all the while that the pride of the Tivolis was offended because they had by some means discovered that I was not always what I now am: whereas it is now clear as daylight that every allusion the Viscount made, and every appeal to my honour which he put forth, in reality pointed to the fact of my having aided the flight of his sister from the convent at the time that she was his sister! Yes—lI can now make allowances for his conduct; and I can understand it in all its details.” “But it seems tolerably evident,’ observed Francesco, “ that the Count remains in ignorance of the place of his daughter’s abode: otherwise he would have proceeded thither—and, if it were practicable, he would have removed her to his own palace or elsewhere.” ** Another idea strikes me,” Iexclaimed. “The Count and his son know that I am intimate with you: perhaps they now fancy that in my friendly spirit towards you I assisted the Lady Antonia to escape, and that it is therefore you rather than myself who are acquainted with her present abode.”’. “You have seen no one espying your move- ments and keeping a watch upon you?” said Francesco, in hasty inquiry. “‘ No—nothing of the sort,’ I answered. “ And ouP” “T did not leave my house for two whole days,” rejoined Avellino: “my feelings were too much excited after having revealed to you the history of my love. Nor to-day have I as yet been out. Possibly indeed—most probably there is a spy waiting to watch me i “ Or it may be,” I suggested, “ that the Count }?? How I was mistaken in his motives ! | 2 eee by espial through the medium of his own agent ; and he may therefore be employing the secret police of Rome in the investigation.” “Yes—there is much reason in all that you suggest,” responded Avellino. “You perceive, therefore, the necessity,’ I added, “of observing the utmost caution. In a word, whatever plans you resolve upon—whatever intentions you harbour, must be carried out with the utmost delicacy.” “‘ My intentions are to make Antonia my bride so soon as circumstances will permit,’ answered Francesco: “for can I doubt that she will consent to accompany me to the altar? Oh! did she not so entreatingly implore you to bring her to Rome after her escape from the convent, that she might make me aware of her presence in this city? And you say that she bade you return to her to-morrow, when she would have a boon to beseech at your hands? And what service could she thus have to demand of you, save and except that you would become her messenger to me? Yes, ; yes—An- tonia’s love is constant and faithful: she knows— she feels, that mine is constant and faithful also! To-morrow, my dear Wilmot, you must break to — her the intelligence that you know me—that we are friends—and you must prepare her to see me with the least possible delay.” “It will be absolutely necessary,” I suggested, “for us to assure ourselves, as well as we can, whether there be spies set upon our movements. You must come and dine with me at my hotel this evening ; and during the walk thither, you can observe whether you are followed by any indivi- dual in a suspicious manner. If so, we must take our measures accordingly.” Avellino agreed; and [I then left him. On issuing from the house, I carefully looked around and yet I was absolutely ignorant | to see if my movements were espied: but I be- held no indication that such was the case. I pur- posely took a circuitous route—rather a zig-zag one,—going up one street and down another, until I nearly lost myself—but still without perceiving that I was followed, or that any particular indivi- dual hung upon my footsteps. In this manner I reached the hotel. The Dominie and Mr. Salt- coats had not as yet returned from their own ex- cursion through the city; and I therefore escaped an invitation to join my dinner with their’s— which invitation they would have been sure to give, but which I could not have accepted. I bade the waiter tell them that I dined out: but on the other hand I ordered a repast to be served in my own private rooms. Avellino came, punctual to the appointed hour; and in respect to the espial which was deemed to be probable, he had the same account to give me as I had to render unto him: namely, that he had observed no indication of his movements being watched or his footsteps dogged. Nevertheless, we settled our plans for the morrow with all suitable precaution. He was to rise early in the morning and ride his horse to a village at some few miles’ distance from Rome: there he was to hire a vehicle and return secretly into the city, which he was to reach by noon; and he was to wait for me in a private apartment at a coffee- house in the same street where Antonia lodged. a i EP —$—<— ee ee OOO) S Gom