I am remanded for trial.
There is a depth below all possibilities
of pain and grief, even before one reaches the grave.
I am in that depth already, and I do not believe that
there is anything in the world which could touch me
with sympathy or with sorrow. I am not even annoyed
at myself and my own mental condition, as I surely
have a right to be. My bodily health is tolerable.
I sleep well at night, and during the day I eat with
fair appetite. Some of my belongings have been
brought from Posilipo here; amongst them a small mirror.
I am so much a stranger to myself in this new-found
calm and indifference, that I am almost surprised to
find myself unaltered outwardly. I am a little
paler than common-that is all. My
mind finds natural employment in the most trivial speculations
and fancies, and it is chiefly to save myself from
this vanity of thought that I write now of myself
and my own concernings.
I have written at this little story
of my own in poverty and in success, in happiness
and in sorrow, and it has come at last to seem that
the plain white paper before me is my only fitting
confidant. Will there ever come a day when I
shall be able to read all its record gladly? Past
joys are a grief-griefs gone by are a joy
to us. Who knows what may come?
And so, poor Hope, you would spread
your peacock wings even here? Ah, go your way!
You forget. Our companionship is dissolved.
We are not on speaking terms any longer.
I have not been plagued with any official
severities, for Ratuzzi is mindful of old favours.
He has told me only this morning that my father extended
some such kindness to his father as that for which
he bears such grateful memory to me. It was a
small affair; a mere matter of money. Against
my wish he brought to me a doctor and an advocate.
I submitted myself to the first, but to the advocate
I declined to listen.
He is a pale young man of five-and-twenty
or thereabouts, this advocate. He has a cleanshaven
face of rare mobility, a mouth of remarkable decision
and sweetness, and eyes of black fire. The most
noticeable thing about him is his voice, which is
not easily to be characterised. You know the
sub-acid flavour in a generous Burgundy-so
nicely proportioned that it does but give the wine
a grip on the tongue and palate. That is the
nearest thing I can think of to the singular quality
of this man’s voice. The voice is rich and
full; but there is a tart flavour in it which emphasises
all it says just as the acid emphasises the riper
flavours of wine. It takes the kind of grip upon
the ear that a file takes upon steel. Or, better
than all, it takes just that hold upon the ear which
the violin bow takes upon the strings. Ecco.
There is my meaning at last. It is not possible
that you should escape from listening to this young
man when he speaks. He is, further, a young man
whom nothing can abash. It is not singular, then,
since I am indifferent to all things now that although
I declined to listen to him, he stayed and talked,
and after much trouble brought me to talk with him.
He was right, after all.
’You are innocent, signor,
and you decline to do anything to help yourself?
Permit me. No man ever did God’s work in
the world by refusing to help himself. You have
some reason for your refusal? What possible reasons
exist? Guilt? We will dismiss that at once.
Despair of establishing innocence?
No. When the salt mines of Sardinia are on one
side a man and liberty is on the other, he does not
yield to despair. Ha! The impossibility,
signor, of defending oneself unless one criminates
another? And that other a friend-a
lover? I am right, signor. No gestures
of denial can throw down a conclusion so obviously
firm. And now, suppose that it should not be necessary
to criminate another. Would you then consent
to be defended? No? Well, signor, I
am not the accusatore pubblico, and it is
no business of mine to hunt down criminals. But,
whether you will or not, I will get to the bottom of
this matter.’
‘Are you so eager for a case,
signor?’ I asked him. ’I will
pay you more to leave me alone than you can ask if
you defend me.’
I had meant to sting him into leaving
me. But his pale face did not even flush at the
insult.
’I am engaged by my friend Ratuzzi,
signor. Ratuzzi tells me it is beyond dreaming
that you should be guilty of murder and theft.
He came to me and besought me to make him grateful
for all eternity by taking up this case and clearing
you from the suspicions which rest upon you.
I have promised him that I will do all in my power,
and I will. You will observe, therefore, signor,
that whatsoever is done in this matter is independent
of your will, if you choose to have it so. I shall
know who committed this murder in a fortnight from
now, and I shall only retire from your defence if
I prove you guilty in my own mind.’
‘Signor,’ I said in answer,
’I apologise for the insult I offered you just
now. But in this matter I am resolute. If
it be the will of God that I suffer innocently, I
suffer. I am not anxious on that score. It
is not at all a matter for my consideration. I
do not care whether I am acquitted or found guilty.’
’Is it your wish that I should
consult the other prisoner’s interest at all?’
I looked at him blankly, whilst my heart stood still.
‘The other prisoner?’ I asked.
‘The other prisoner,’
he answered calmly. ’Is it he whom you desire
to shield?’
‘Who is he?’
The advocate drew forth a bundle of
memoranda, and turned them over carefully and at his
leisure. I did not dare to question him further,
and waited in an agony of suspense.
‘That is the name,’ he said-’an
English name.’
He placed his thumb and leisurely
turned round the paper to me on the table which stood
before us. I tried to read, but all my pulses
seemed throbbing round my eyes, and I was dazzled
and blind. He took the paper up again, but I
reached out my hand for it.
‘I did not read the name,’ I said.
‘Permit me once more.’
He passed the paper again towards me, and I read-
’John Baker. Claims to
be an Englishman, and speaks in English only.
Is believed to be by birth an Italian, but a naturalised
British subject. A person of notoriously evil
character.’
This at least was not Arthur.
I breathed again, and for a moment a wild hope sprang
up in my heart. It died again directly. Ah,
if I could have believed that he was innocent!
But the evidence of which I was the sole repository
was beyond all doubt, beyond all hope.
‘No,’ I said. ’I
know nothing of this man. What is the evidence
against him?’
’The evidence against him is
the knowledge that he was poor until the night of
the murder, and has since suddenly become rich.
Further, that a pocket-book found in his possession
was smeared with blood. The book contains a large
sum of money in English notes, and is believed to have
belonged to the murdered man.’
I had never supposed that Arthur had
robbed the body of his dead enemy.
‘If this be proved, Signor l’Avvocato,’
I said, after some time of silence, ‘what punishment
will fall upon this man?’
‘The salt mines will not be
enough for him,’ the advocate answered.
’He will probably be shot. You see, signor,
he has denied his nationality, and that of itself
will embitter the national feeling against him.’
‘Then,’ I answered, ’these
suspicions must not be bolstered by false proofs.
This man has, perhaps, robbed a dead body, but he has
not committed murder.’
‘Signor Calvotti,’ said
the advocate, the black fire burning slowly in his
eyes, and a slow flush creeping to his pale forehead
whilst he spoke, ’what mystery surrounds your
share of this matter I can only faintly guess.
But I know that it is not a mystery to you. I
have found out this, at least, since I have been here-that
you know the murderer, and that you determine to shield
him, even at your own expense. Now, I warn you
that if you deny me your confidence, I will convict
the real man, whosoever he may be.’
He fixed those slow-burning eyes upon
me as he said this, and waited for an answer.
I responded to his words and to the fixity of his gaze
by silence.
‘Give me your confidence, and
I will serve your turn,’ he said again.
‘Are you the guilty man?’
‘I? No.’
‘Signor Calvotti,’ he
began again, after another pause, during which his
eyes were shadowed by his drooping brows, ’you
shall trust me yet. Any secret suspicion given
to me is buried in the grave. Any secret certainty
of knowledge is buried equally. A confession of
your own guilt, the declaration of a friend’s,
shall be entombed here’-he laid his
hand upon his breast-’and know no
resurrection.’
I answered nothing, and he rose to go.
‘That which you hide,’
he said as a last word,’ I will discover for
myself. Given freely, it would be used for your
own cause. Wrested from mystery, it shall be
used for mine.’
‘Come here again,’ I answered,
’three hours later, and I will answer you in
one way or the other.’
‘Good,’ he responded,
and signalled for the door to be opened. Ratuzzi
himself answered the loud knock he gave, and my friendly
gaoler asked me how I fared, and if I stood in need
of anything.
‘Nothing just now but time to think a little.’
He closed the door, and locked and
chained and bolted it, and then I heard the footsteps
of the two grow fainter and fainter until silence
came. Then I lit my pipe and poured out a glass
of wine-for in these respects I am allowed
what I choose-and sat down to think.
But I found it hard to give my thoughts to anything.
There was a hollow somewhere in my mind into which
all serious thoughts fell jumbled. I felt neither
pained nor confused, but only vacuous. I battled
with this feeling until I subdued it. Then I
grasped the situation firmly. What object have
I, here and now, and everywhere and always, next to
the rectitude of my own soul? There is only one
answer to that question: Cecilia’s happiness!
How to secure that here?-how to save it
from the horrible perils which everywhere surround
it? Is it to be done by securing her union for
life with her brother’s murderer? If I
know one thing of Arthur Clyde-whom I know
well-it is this: that such a crime
as that I charge him with, committed under whatsoever
provocation, will weigh him down for ever, and make
life a perpetual hell to him. The hideous injustice
of a union with such a man she must not suffer, whatsoever
else she suffer. And that she, like the rest
of us, must suffer, is too clear. But of
this I am assured: To learn that her lover is
her brother’s murderer, and not only that, but
that by his silence he accuses a friend who is innocent,
would break her heart beyond all the remedy of hope
and years. That shall not be.
It seemed little more than an hour
when I heard footsteps again approaching my door.
They paused on reaching it, and the jar of bolt and
chain and lock succeeded. The door opened and
closed again. I did not turn or look round until
a hand was laid on me, and a voice, strange to me
for a year, called me by my name. Then I was indeed
amazed.
‘Mr. Gregory! You here?’
’My poor fellow! I reached
Naples last night, and found the town ringing with
the news of an arrest for murder. But what I can’t
understand is, that now they’ve got the real
fellow, they don’t let you go.’
‘Never mind me,’ I answered.
’Do they know in England-Miss Grammont
and Cecilia?’
‘They are with me here,’
he answered quickly. ’They know that you
are arrested for murder, and scout the idea, of course.
But they don’t know of their brother’s
death yet. I want to run them both away and let
them learn the news more tenderly than they will do
here, but I must see you through this miserable business.
How did the fools come to suspect you, of all
men in the world?’
‘Suspicion was natural,’
I answered. ’I was found near the spot directly
after the discovery of the body.’
‘What brought you there?’
’I was on my way home to Posilipo.
The night was fine, and I was in a mood for walking.’
‘But you were found insensible,
or something of the sort, weren’t you?’
’I was standing still in the
road, looking at the moonlight on the bay, when I
heard a terrible cry. Before I could move, a man
came racing down the road as if he were flying for
his life. He ran against me, and we fell together.
I fainted, and never fully recovered consciousness
until I found myself here.’
’Who do you suppose the man
to be? No clue to him, I suppose, in your own
mind? What do the authorities say to this?’
‘I have offered no defence, and made no statement.’
’God bless my soul, what folly!
When you might have been out of custody the next day!
How very absurd!’
’I was stunned, remember.
There were good reasons for silence. The trial
takes place in a fortnight.’
‘A fortnight! But you can’t stop
here a fortnight!’
‘I must!’ I answered,
smiling even then at his impetuosity. ’I
am remanded for trial.’
‘You bear it well, Calvotti,’
he said, taking me by both shoulders, and looking
kindly at me.
‘I do not feel my own share
much,’ I told him truly. ’I am most
aggrieved for the others. It is a terrible business.’
’Give me young Clyde’s
address. I must bring him to comfort Cecilia when
she learns the truth. She was fond of that poor
scapegrace, with all his faults and follies.
He paid bitterly for em’-poor ne’er-do-weel!-very
bitterly.’
‘Bitterly, indeed,’ I
answered absently, looking for a way to escape from
a renewed mention of Clyde’s name, and finding
none.
’I shall come to see you as
often as they’ll let me, and stay as long as
I can. But now I must go for the present.
Let me see-Clyde’s living at your
place, isn’t he?’
‘Yes,’ I answered, ’he
was living at the address from which I always dated.’
‘Has he been here to-day?’ Oh! It
was all too bitter, and I could endure no longer.
I turned my face away. My old patron laid a gentle
hand upon my shoulder, and strove to turn me round.
I cast myself upon the bed, and broke into tears.
Gran Dio! I am not ashamed. But that outbreak
cost me bodily agony, and I wept and sobbed whilst
I cursed myself for weeping. Sacred Heaven! how
I wrestled with this devil of weakness, which held
me so strongly. When I had fought him down, he
leapt upon me afresh, and subdued me by sheer torture
until I let nature take her way, and cried like a
woman! Then, when it was all over, I stood up
and spoke with a new resolve.
’Sir, you are a just man and
a wise man, and you shall know the whole truth.
But first you shall swear to me that what I tell you
is for ever buried in your own heart!’
He looked at me with stern inquiry.
‘I am not an informer,’ he said, ‘and
you may speak safely.’
I stepped towards him, but he waved
me back, and himself took a backward step.
’There is a reason for my silence,
but with you that reason dies. I have your promise,
and I trust it. The man who overthrew me in the
lane, whose hands and face were red with Grammont’s
blood, was-’
‘Go on,’ he said, standing
there still in rough-hewn dignity, though his lips
trembled and his face was pale.
‘That man,’ I said, ‘was Arthur
Clyde.’
‘Ah!’ The sound escaped
him without his knowing it. A minute later he
asked, ‘What was the ground of quarrel?’
I told him then the story of Clyde’s
meeting with Grammont, and of Arthur’s passion
afterwards, and of our next encounter with Grammont
at the end of the Chiaja on the day of the murder.
’And you are sacrificing yourself
that Clyde may escape, trusting to chances to clear
yourself?’
I answered nothing.
‘What is your motive in all this?’ he
asked me.
What right had I to withhold it, then?
what right to be ashamed of the truth? Yet I
paused.
‘It is not friendship for Clyde. What is
the motive?’
’I was silent because I waited
here for events to decide what I could not decide
for myself.’
‘And what was that?’
‘How to give Cecilia least pain.’
‘Are you in love with Cecilia?’ he asked
me.
‘No,’ I answered honestly,
’I am not in love with Cecilia, but she is dearer
to me than anybody in the world. I could not love
my sister or my mother more tenderly.’
‘H’m!’ he said in
his old way, when thinking. ’And what have
events led you to?’
‘They lead me nowhere,’ I cried; ‘I
am helpless.’
‘And so Clyde has never been here, of course.
Has he escaped?’
‘I cannot say.’
’It is a terrible business,
Calvotti, but it is better so. You have done
right. You have done well. You have done
nobly. There is no evidence against you which
is not so flimsy that a fly could break through it.
Clyde will disappear. If he should come back again,
I will warn him off-trust me. Time
will console Cecilia, and you will have averted a
tragedy. Here is somebody at the door.’
Chain and lock creaked and jangled.
The door swung inwards, and Ratuzzi appeared with
the advocate.
‘Signor l’Avvocato,’
I said, ’this gentleman will tell you everything
it concerns you to know. Or-stay.
Do you speak English?’
‘I speak no language but my
own,’ said the young advocate.
‘My dear Calvotti,’ said
my old patron, in Italian smoother and more choicely
worded than his English, one language is pretty much
the same to me as another, so long as it is
a language, and is spoken in Europe. I have been
a mercantile adventurer in Europe for more than thirty
years, and have found a knowledge of languages a necessity.’
‘Then, sir,’ I said in
English, ’deal with this gentleman according
to your discretion. If you think it wise, let
him know all.’
‘Trust to me,’ he answered, and bade me
a cheery adieu.
In another hour the advocate was back, again.
‘Signor Calvotti,’ he
exclaimed, holding out his hand for mine, ’I
did not know that I had a hero to defend. But
I know it now. You are in no danger. It
is weary waiting, but two weeks do not make up eternity;
and we shall march out of the court with the drums
beating.’
I could not share his joy. The
weight which is upon me now oppressed me then; and
when the door closed upon the advocate, I could only
sit upon my bed and think, with a heart that ached
and burned, of the terror which waited on Cecilia.