Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 187: what you’re looking at

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

174 JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. —————_$:°”°”°»0—O” _=Se_=S=S lee esse, TC who bowed to me with politeness and made a sign for me to follow him. We passed out into a little yard in the rear of the guard-house, and where a couple of sentinels with shouldered muskets were pacing to and fro. Under a low colonnade, there was an array of about half-a-dozen massive doors, studded with large iron nails, and communicating with the detention-cells. The officer was imme- diately accosted by a turnkey in plain clothes, to whom some instructions were given; and then the interpreter who had followed us thither, was spoken to by both officer and gaoler in their turns. “I have to inform you, Signor,” said the busy little man, “ that these two ruffians whom you come to see, are of the most desperate character; and though they are heavily ironed, yet both the officer and the turnkey suggest the imprudence of your venturing alone into their cell ss * Am I to go alone ?” I asked of the interpreter. “T thought that you would have to accompany me to translate: for most probably the prisoners speak nothing but Italian.” On the contrary, Signor,’ responded the in- terpreter; “they both speak French; they seem to know that you do also: and they moreover in- sisted upon seeing you alone. Besides, to tell you the truth, I do not think that I should be of any great assistance to you - “True!” T ejaculated. “But I have no fear of these men, if you say they are heavily ironed @ “But those irons would constitute terrible weapons in their hands,” said the interpreter ; ‘‘and if they did happen to entertain a spite to- wards you Ms “Ask this officer,” I quickly interrupted the little man, “to lend me a brace of loaded pistols ; and then there will be no fear for my safety.” This request was speedily complied with; and earrying a pistol in each hand,—for I was now just enabled to remove my arm from the sling,—I was shown into one of the cells. The door closed behind me: but neither bolt was fastened nor key turned; and I heard the footsteps of one of the sentinels halting at a little distance. Thus I per- ceived that every precaution was being taken to guard against the consequences of any sudden attack which the two prisoners, if vindictively in- clined, might make upon me. T entered that cell, which was narrow but long: it was lighted by a grating in the roof—or rather, I should observe, was only redeemed thereby from total obscurity : for the gloom was so great that I tould scarcely distinguish the countenances of the two men, though I could more easily trace the dark outlines of their forms as they sate together upon some straw at the farther extremity. The light transiently introduced by the opening of the door under the deep colonnade, had nevertheless shown them who I was; for recognising me ina moment, they both as in one breath ejaculated my name. “TI have come,” I said, at once addressing them in the French language, “in compliance with a request you forwarded to me; and as my time is not to be wasted, I beg-that you will proceed with- out delay to the point.” “We know, sir,” answered one of the prisoners, “that you are brave as brave can be; and honour always goes with true courage. We therefore mean to trust to your honour, by telling you a little secret in respect to ourselves; and then we shall tell you something that regards yourself: so that if the information is worth anything to you, you may perhaps be inclined to do us a service in re- turn.” : “Proceed,” I said: and I had already racked my memory, but in vain, to recollect whether I had ever heard the speaker’s voice before. “In the first place, sir, the secret which regards ourselves,” continued the same man* who had al- ready spoken, “is neither more nor less than this —that we lately belonged to Marco Uberta’s band, of whose breaking-up you were the principal cause.” “Ah!” T ejaculated : for at the moment those last words were spoken I heard the felons’ chains clanking. “And you feel vindictive against me? But beware! I havea pistol in each hard; and if you attempt to leave the places where jou now are, to make a sudden spring upon me zs “We mean nothing of the sort, sir,” interrupted the spokesman. “ We have got ears—we know that the door has been merely closed, and not fast- ened—you can push if open in a moment—and the sentinels are nigh at hand outside the colon- nade.” “ Well,” I observed, “Iam glad that your inten- tions do not comprise treachery although, with my former experiences of your bitter vindictive- ness and your blood-thirsty instincts, I could searcely do otherwise than let you know how com- pletely IT am on my guard. And now proceed. You have told me that you both belonged to Marco Uberti’s band And, ah! I recognise you now !” —for by this time my vision had become accus- tomed to the obscurity of the cell. “Yes, sir—thatis the secret which we had to com. municate,” resumed the one who acted as spokes- man for them both. “Why is it asecret?” I asked, my mind still full of suspicion. ‘“ You are certain to suffer death for the offence with which you are charged: your punishment thercfore could not possibly be en- hanced if it were known that youhad formed part of the formidable gang which until recently in- fested the Appenines—and therefore you have no earthly interest in regarding that circumstance as a secret. Besides, these are the Roman States— and you cannot be here held amenable for what- soever crimes you have committed in Tuscany, which is, so to speak, another country.” ‘“‘ The explanation, sir, can be easily and promptly given,” replied the prisoner: and he spoke the whole time with the most respectful humility. “There is some reason or another, which we can- not rightly comprehend uuless if is that the old gentleman whom we attacked is some influen- tial personage who wants to hush the matter up for certain reasons of his own r “Proceed!” I said, impatiently. Well, sir, to come to the point. Our examina- tion has been conducted in private; and we are given to understand that if we sign a paper ad- mitting our guilt, and thus throw ourselves on the merey of the authorities, our lives shall be spared, but we shall be condemned to a long im- prisonment. So far, so good: loss of liberty is not so bad as loss of life. But if it were known COMmicoaoolks (c@)