The Headsman - James Fenimore Cooper
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"You were near losing the last bark that sails for the Abbaye des
Vignerons, Signori," said the Genevese, recognizing the country of the
strangers at a glance, "if, as I judge from your direction and haste,
these festivities are in your minds."
"Such is our aim," returned the elder of the travellers, "and, as thou
sayest, we are, of a certainty, tardy. A hasty departure and bad roads
have been the cause--but as, happily, we are yet in time to profit by this
bark, wilt do us the favor to look into our authority to pass?"
The officer perused the offered document with the customary care, turning
it from side to side, as if all were not right, though in a way to show
that he regretted the informality.
"Signore, your pass is quite in rule as touches Savoy and the country of
Nice, but it wants the city's forms."
"By San Francesco! more's the pity. We are honest gentlemen of Genoa,
hurrying to witness the revels at Vevey, of which rumor gives an enticing
report, and our sole desire is to come and go peaceably. As thou seest, we
are late; for hearing at the post, on alighting, that a bark was about to
spread its sails for the other extremity of the lake, we had no time to
consult all the observances that thy city's rules may deem necessary. So
many turn their faces the same way, to witness these ancient games, that
we had not thought out quick passage through the town of sufficient
importance to give thy authorities the trouble to look into our proofs."
"Therein, Signore, you have judged amiss. It is my sworn duty to stay all
who want the republic's permission to proceed."
"This is unfortunate, to say no more. Art thou the patron of the bark,
friend?"
"And her owner, Signore," answered Baptiste, who listened to the discourse
with longings equal to his doubts. "I should be a great deal too happy to
count such honorable travellers among my passengers."
"Thou wilt then delay thy departure until this gentleman shall see the
authorities of the town, and obtain the required permission to quit it?
Thy compliance shall not go unrewarded."
As the Genoese concluded, he dropped into a palm that was well practised
in bribes a sequin of the celebrated republic of which he was a citizen.
Baptiste had long cultivated an aptitude to suffer himself to be
influenced by gold, and it was with unfeigned reluctance that he admitted
the necessity of refusing, in this instance, to profit by his own good
dispositions. Still retaining the money, however, for he did not well know
how to overcome his reluctance to part with it, he answered in a manner
sufficiently embarrassed, to show the other that he had at least gained a
material advantage by his liberality.
"His Excellency knows not what he asks," said the patron, fumbling the
coin between a finger and thumb; "our Genevese citizens love to keep house
till the sun is up, lest they should break their necks by walking about
the uneven streets in the dark, and it will be two long hours before a
single bureau will open its windows in the town. Besides, your man of the
police is not like us of the lake, happy to get a morsel when the weather
and occasion permit; but he is a regular feeder, that must have his grapes
and his wine before he will use his wits for the benefit of his employers.
The Winkelried would weary of doing nothing, with this fresh western
breeze humming between her masts, while the poor gentleman was swearing
before the town-house gate at the laziness of the officers. I know the
rogues better than your Excellency, and would advise some other
expedient."
Baptiste looked, with a certain expression, at the guardian of the
water-gate, and in a manner to make his meaning sufficiently clear to the
travellers. The latter studied the countenance of the Genevese a moment,
and, better practised than the patron, or a more enlightened judge of
character, he fortunately refused to commit himself by offering to
purchase the officer's good-will. If there are too many who love to be
tempted to forget their trusts, by a well-managed venality, there are a
few who find a greater satisfaction in being thought beyond its influence.
The watchman of the gate happened to be one of the latter class, and, by
one of the many unaccountable workings of human feeling, the very vanity
which had induced him to suffer Il Maledetto to go through unquestioned,
rather than expose his own ignorance, now led him to wish he might make
some return for the stranger's good opinion of his honesty.
"Will you let me look again at the pass, Signore?" asked the Genevese, as
if he thought a sufficient legal warranty for that which he now strongly
desired to do might yet be found in the instrument itself.
The inquiry was useless, unless it was to show that the elder Genoese was
called the Signer Grimaldi and that his companion went by the name of
Marcelli. Shaking his head he returned the paper in the manner of a
disappointed man.
"Thou canst not have read half of what the paper contains," said Baptiste
peevishly; "your reading and writing are not such easy matters, that a
squint of the eye is all-sufficient. Look at it again, and thou mayest yet
find all in rule. It is unreasonable to suppose Signori of their rank
would journey like vagabonds, with papers to be suspected."
"Nothing is wanting but our city signatures, without which my duty will
let none go by, that are truly travellers."
"This comes, Signore, of the accursed art of writing, which is much pushed
and greatly abused of late. I have heard the aged watermen of the Leman
praise the good old time, when boxes and bales went and came, and no ink
touched paper between him that sent and him that carried; and yet it has
now reached the pass that a christian may not transport himself on his own
legs without calling on the scriveners for permission!"
"We lose the moments in words, when it were far better to be doing,"
returned the Signore Grimaldi. "The pass is luckily in the language of the
country, and needs but a glance to get the approval of the authorities.
Thou wilt do well to say thou canst remain the time necessary to see this
little done."
"Were your excellency to offer me the Doge's crown as a bribe, this could
not be. Our Leman winds will not wait for king or noble, bishop or priest,
and duty to those I have in the bark commands me to quit the port as soon
as possible."
"Thou art truly well charged with living freight already," said the
Genoese, regarding the deeply loaded bark with a half-distrustful eye 'I
hope thou hast not overdone thy vessel's powers in receiving so many?"
"I could gladly reduce the number a little, excellent Signore, for all
that you see piled among the boxes and tubs are no better than so many
knaves, fit only to give trouble and raise questions touching the
embarkation of those who are willing to pay better than themselves. The
noble Swiss, whom you see seated near the stern, with his daughter and
people, the worthy Melchior de Willading, gives a more liberal reward for
his passage to Vevey than all those nameless rogues together."
The Genoese made a hasty movement towards the patron, with an earnestness
of eye and air that betrayed a sudden and singular interest in what he
heard.
"Did'st thou say de Willading?" he exclaimed, eager as one of much fewer
years would have been at the unexpected announcement of some pleasurable
event. "Melchior, too, of that honorable name?"
"Signore, the same. None other bears the title now, for the old line, they
say, is drawing to an end. I remember this same baron, when he was as
ready to launch his boat into a troubled lake, as any in Switzerland--"
"Fortune hath truly favored me, good Marcelli!" interrupted the other,
grasping the hand of his companion, with strong feeling. "Go thou to the
bark, master patron, and advise thy passenger that--what shall we say to
Melchior? Shall we tell him at once, who waits him here, or shall we
practise a little on his failing memory? By San Francesco! we will do
this, Enrico, that we may try his powers! 'Twill be pleasant to see him
wonder and guess--my life on it, however, that he knows me at a glance. I
am truly little changed for one that hath seen so much."
The Signor Marcelli lowered his eyes respectfully at this opinion of his
friend, but he did not see fit to discourage a belief which was merely a
sudden ebullition, produced by the recollection of younger days. Baptiste
was instantly dispatched with a request that the baron would do a stranger
of rank the favor to come to the water-gate.
"Tell him 'tis a traveller disappointed in the wish to be of his company,"
repeated the Genoese. "That will suffice. I know him courteous, and he is
not my Melchior, honest Marcelli, if he delay an instant:--thou seest! he
is already quitting the bark, for never did I know him refuse an act of
friendliness--dear, dear Melchior--thou art the same at seventy as thou
wast at thirty!"
Here the agitation of the Genoese got the better of him, and he walked
aside, under a sense of shame, lest he might betray unmanly weakness. In
the mean time, the Baron de Willading advanced from the water-side,
without suspecting that his presence was required for more than an act of
simple courtesy.
"Baptiste tells me that gentlemen of Genoa are here, who are desirous of
hastening to the games of Vevey," said the latter, raising his beaver,
"and that my presence may be of use in obtaining the pleasure of their
company."
"I will not unmask till we are fairly and decently embarked, Enrico,"
whispered the Signor Grimaldi; "nay--by the mass! not till we are fairly
disembarked! The laugh against him will never be forgotten. Signore,"
addressing the Bernese with affected composure, endeavoring to assume the
manner of a stranger, though his voice trembled with eagerness at each
syllable, "we are indeed of Genoa, and most anxious to be of the party in
your bark--but--he little suspects who speaks to him, Marcelli!--but,
Signore, there has been some small oversight touching the city
signatures, and we have need of friendly assistance, either to pass the
gate, or to detain the bark until the forms of the place shall have been
respected.'
"Signore, the city of Geneva hath need to be watchful, for it is an
exposed and weak state, and I have little hope that my influence can cause
this trusty watchman to dispense with his duty. Touching the bark, a small
gratuity will do much with honest Baptiste, should there not be a question
of the stability of the breeze, in which case he might be somewhat of a
loser."
"You say the truth, noble Melchior," put in the patron; "were the wind
ahead, or were it two hours earlier in the morning, the little delay
should not cost the strangers a batz--that is to say, nothing
unreasonable; but as it is, I have not twenty minutes more to lose, evep
were all the city magistrates cloaking to be of the party, in their proper
and worshipful persons."
"I greatly regret, Sigriore, it should be so," resumed the baron, turning
to the applicant with the consideration of one accustomed to season his
refusals by a gracious manner; "but these watermen have their secret
signs, by which, it would seem, they know the latest moment they may with
prudence delay."
"By the mass! Marcelli, I will try him a little--should have known him in
a carnival dress. Signor Barone, we are but poor Italian gentlemen, it is
true, of Genoa. You have heard of our republic, beyond question--the poor
state of Genoa?"
"Though of no great pretensions to letters, Signore," answered Melchior,
smiling, "I am not quite ignorant that such a state exists. You could not
have named a city on the shores of your Mediterranean that would sooner
warm my heart than this very town of which you speak. Many of my happiest
hours were passed within its walls, and often, even at this late day, do I
live over again my life to recall the pleasures of that merry period. Were
there leisure, I could repeat a list of honorable and much esteemed names
that are familiar to your ears, in proof of what I say."
"Name them, Signor Barone;--for the love of the saints, and the blessed
virgin, name them, I beseech you!"
A little amazed at the eagerness of the other. Melchior de Willading
earnestly regarded his furrowed face; and, for an instant, an expression
like incertitude crossed his own features.
"Nothing would be easier, Signore, than to name many. The first in my
memory, as he has always been the first in my love, is Gaetano Grimaldi,
of whom, I doubt not, both of you have often heard?"
"We have, we have! That is--yes, I think we may say, Marcelli, that we
have often heard of him, and not unfavorably. Well, what of this
Grimaldi?"
"Signore, the desire to converse of your noble townsman is natural, but
were I to yield to my wishes to speak of Gaetano, I fear the honest
Baptiste might have reason to complain."
"To the devil with Baptiste and his bark! Melchior,--my good
Melchior!--dearest, dearest Melchior! hast thou indeed forgotten me?"
Here the Genoese opened wide his arms, and stood ready to receive the
embrace of his friend. The Baron de Willading was troubled, but he was
still so far from suspecting the real fact, that he could not have easily
told the reason why. He gazed wistfully at the working features of the
fine old man who stood before him, and though memory seemed to flit around
the truth, it was in gleams so transient as completely to baffle his
wishes.
"Dost thou deny me, de Willading?--dost thou refuse to own the friend of
thy youth--the companion of thy pleasures--the sharer of thy sorrows---
thy comrade in the wars--nay, more--thy confidant in a dearer tie?"
"None but Gaetano Grimaldi himself can claim these titles!" burst from the
lips of the trembling baron.
"Am I aught else?--am I not this Gaetano?--that Gaetano--thy
Gaetano,--old and very dear friend?"
"Thou Gaetano!" exclaimed the Bernois, recoiling a step, instead of
advancing to meet the eager embrace of the Genoese, whose impetuous
feelings were little cooled by time--"thou, the gallant, active, daring,
blooming Grimaldi! Signore, you trifle with an old man's affections."
"By the holy mass, I do not deceive thee! Ha, Marcelli, he is slow to
believe as ever, but fast and certain as the vow of a churchman when
convinced. If we are to distrust each other for a few wrinkles, thou wilt
find objections rising against thine own identity as well as against mine,
friend Melchior. I am none other than Gaetano--the Gaetano of thy
youth--the friend thou hast not seen these many long and weary years."
Recognition was slow in making its way in the mind of the Bernese.
Lineament after lineament, however, became successively known to him, and
most of all, the voice served to awaken long dormant recollections. But,
as heavy natures are said to have the least self-command when fairly
excited, so did the baron betray the most ungovernable emotion of the two,
when conviction came at last to confirm the words of his friend. He threw
himself on the neck of the Genoese, and the old man wept in a manner that
caused him to withdraw aside, in order to conceal the tears which had so
suddenly and profusely broken from fountains that he had long thought
nearly dried.
Chapter III.
Ha, cousin Silence, that thou hadst seen
That, that this knight and I have seen!
_King Henry IV._
The calculating patron of the Winkelried had patiently watched the
progress of the foregoing scene with great inward satisfaction, but now
that the strangers seemed to be assured of support powerful as that of
Melchior de Willading, he was disposed to turn it to account without
farther delay. The old men were still standing with their hands grasping
each other, after another warm and still closer embrace, and with tears
rolling down the furrowed face of each, when Baptiste advanced to put in
his raven-like remonstrance.
"Noble gentlemen," he said, "if the felicitations of one humble as I can
add to the pleasure of this happy meeting, I beg you to accept them; but
the wind has no heart for friendships nor any thought for the gains or
losses of us watermen. I feel it my duty, as patron of the bark, to recall
to your honors that many poor travellers, far from their homes and pining
families, are waiting our leisure, not to speak of foot-sore pilgrims and
other worthy adventurers, who are impatient in their hearts, though
respect for their superiors keeps them tongue-tied, while we are losing
the best of the breeze."
"By San Francesco! the varlet is right;" said the Genoese, hurriedly
erasing the marks of his recent weakness from his cheeks. "We are
forgetful of all these worthy people while joy at our meeting is so
strong, and it is time that we thought of others. Canst thou aid me in
dispensing with the city's signatures?"
The Baron de Willading paused; for well-disposed at first to assist any
gentlemen who found themselves in an unpleasant embarrassment, it will be
readily imagined that the case lost none of its interest, when he found
that his oldest and most tried friend was the party in want of his
influence. Still it was much easier to admit the force of this new and
unexpected appeal than to devise the means of success. The officer was, to
use a phrase which most men seem to think supplies a substitute for reason
and principle, too openly committed to render it probable he would easily
yield. It was necessary, however, to make the trial, and the baron,
therefore, addressed the keeper of the water-gate more urgently than he
had yet done in behalf of the strangers.
"It is beyond my functions; there is not one of our Syndics whom I would
more gladly oblige than yourself, noble baron," answered the officer; "but
the duty of the watchman is to adhere strictly to the commands of those
who have placed him at his post."
"Gaetano, we are not the men to complain of this! We have stood together
too long in the same trench, and have too often slept soundly, in
situations where failure in this doctrine might have cost us our lives, to
quarrel with the honest Genevese for his watchfulness. To be frank, 'twere
little use to tamper with the fidelity of a Swiss or with that of his
ally."
"With the Swiss that is well paid to be vigilant!" answered the Genoese,
laughing in a way to show that he had only revived one of those standing
but biting jests, that they who love each other best are perhaps most
accustomed to practice.
The Baron de Willading took the facetiousness of his friend in good part,
returning the mirth of the other in a manner to show that the allusion
recalled days when their hours had idly passed in the indulgence of
spontaneous outbreakings of animal spirits.
"Were this thy Italy, Gaetano, a sequin would not only supply the place of
a dozen signatures, but, by the name of thy favorite, San Francesco! it
would give the honest gate-keeper that gift of second-sight on which the
Scottish seers are said to pride themselves."
"Well, the two sides of the Alps will keep their characters, even though
we quarrel about their virtues--but we shall never see again the days that
we have known! Neither the games of Vevey, nor the use of old jokes, will
make us the youths we have been, dear de Willading!"
"Signore, a million of pardons," interrupted Baptiste, "but this western
wind is more inconstant even than the spirits of the young."
"The rogue is again right, and we forget yonder cargo of honest
travellers, who are wishing us both in Abraham's bosom, for keeping the
impatient bark in idleness at the quay. Good Marcelli, hast thou aught to
suggest in this strait?"
"Signore, you forget that we have another document that may be found
sufficient"--the person questioned, who appeared to fill a middle station
between that of a servant and that of a companion, rather hinted than
observed:
"Thou sayest true--and yet I would gladly avoid producing it--but anything
is better than the loss of thy company, Melchior."
"Name it not! We shall not separate, though the Winkelried rot where she
lies. 'Twere easier to separate our faithful cantons than two such
friends."
"Nay, noble baron, you forget the wearied pilgrims and the many anxious
travellers in the bark."
"If twenty crowns will purchase thy consent, honest Baptiste, we will have
no further discussion."
"It is scarce in human will to withstand you, noble Sir!--Well, the
pilgrims have weary feet, and rest will only fit them the better for the
passage of the mountains; and as for the others, why let them quit the
bark if they dislike the conditions. I am not a man to force my commerce
on any."
"Nay, nay, I will have none of this. Keep thy gold, Melchior, and let the
honest Baptiste keep his passengers, to say nothing of his conscience."
"I beseech your excellency," interrupted Baptiste, "not to distress
yourself in tenderness for me. I am ready to do far more disagreeable
things to oblige so noble a gentleman."
"I will none of it! Signor officer, wilt thou do me the favor to cast a
glance at this?"
As the Genoese concluded, he placed in the hands of the watchman at the
gate, a paper different from that which he had first shown. The officer
perused the new instrument with deep attention, and, when half through its
contents, his eyes left the page to become rivetted in respectful
attention on the face of the expectant Italian. He then read the passport
to the end. Raising his cap ceremoniously, the keeper of the gate left the
passage free, bowing with deep deference to the strangers.
"Had I sooner known this," he said, "there would have been no delay. I
hope your excellency will consider my ignorance--?"
"Name it not, friend. Thou hast done well; in proof of which I beg thy
acceptance of a small token of esteem."
The Genoese dropped a sequin into the hand of the officer, passing him, at
the same time, on his way to the waterside. As the reluctance of the other
to receive gold came rather from a love of duty than from any particular
aversion to the metal itself, this second offering met with a more
favorable reception than the first. The Baron de Willading was not without
surprise at the sudden success of his friend, though he was far too
prudent and well-bred to let his wonder be seen.
Every obstacle to the departure of the Winkelried was now removed, and
Baptiste and his crew were soon actively engaged in loosening the sails
and in casting off the fasts. The movement of the bark was at first slow
and heavy, for the wind was intercepted by the buildings of the town; but,
as she receded from the shore, the canvass began to flap and belly, and
ere long it filled outward with a report like that of a musket; after
which the motion of the travellers began to bear some relation to their
nearly exhausted patience.
Soon after the party which had been so long detained at the water-gate
were embarked, Adelheid first learned the reason of the delay. She had
long known, from the mouth of her father, the name and early history of
the Signor Grimaldi, a Genoese of illustrious family, who had been the
sworn friend and the comrade of Melchior de Willading, when the latter
pursued his career in arms in the wars of Italy. These circumstances
having passed long before her own birth, and even before the marriage of
her parents, and she being the youngest and the only survivor of a
numerous family of children, they were, as respected herself, events that
already began to assume the hue of history. She received the old man
frankly and even with affection, though in his yielding but still fine
form, she had quite as much difficulty as her father in recognizing the
young, gay, gallant, brilliant, and handsome Gaetano Grimaldi that her
imagination had conceived from the verbal descriptions she had so often
heard, and from her fancy was still wont to draw as he was painted in the
affectionate descriptions of her father. When he suddenly and
affectionately offered a kiss, the color flushed her face, for no man but
he to whom she owed her being had ever before taken that liberty; but,
after an instant of virgin embarrassment, she laughed, and blushingly
presented her cheek to receive the salute.
"The last tidings I had of thee, Melchior," said the Italian, "was the
letter sent by the Swiss Ambassador, who took our city in his way as he
traveled south, and which was written on the occasion of the birth of this
very girl."
"Not of this, dear friend, but of an elder sister, who is, long since, a
cherub in heaven. Thou seest the ninth precious gift that God bestowed,
and thou seest all that is now left of his bounty."
The countenance of the Signor Grimaldi lost its joyousness, and a deep
pause in the discourse succeeded. They lived in an age when communications
between friends that were separated by distance, and by the frontiers of
different states, were rare and uncertain. The fresh and novel affections
of marriage had first broken an intercourse that was continued, under such
disadvantages as marked the period, long after their duties called them
different ways; and time, with its changes and the embarrassments of wars,
had finally destroyed nearly every link in the chain of their
correspondence. Each had, therefore, much of a near and interesting
character to communicate to the other, and each dreaded to speak, lest he
might cause some wound, that was not perfectly healed, to bleed anew. The
volume of matter conveyed in the few words uttered by the Baron de
Willading, showed both in how many ways they might inflict pain without
intention, and how necessary it was to be guarded in their discourse
during the first days of their renewed intercourse.