Rule of the Monk; Or, Rome in the Nineteenth Century by Giuseppe Garibaldi
CHAPTER VIII. THE MENDICANT
Eighteen years had rolled by since the horrible murder of La SignoraVirginia related in the last chapter. On the same piazza which FatherIgnazio had traversed that dark night stood a mendicant, leaningmoodily, yet not without a certain grace, against a column. It wasFebruary, and the beggar lad was apparently watching the setting sun.The lower part of his face was carefully concealed in his cloak, butfrom the little that could be discerned of it, it seemed decidedlyhandsome; one of those noble countenances, in fact, that once seen,impresses its features indelibly on the beholder's memory. A well-formedRoman nose was well set between two eyes of dazzling blue; eyes thatcould look tender or stem, according to the possessor's mood. Theshoulders, even under the cloak, showed grandly, and could belong onlyto a strength which it would be dangerous to insult, or rashly attack.Poor as its garb was, such a figure would be eagerly desired by asculptor who sought to portray a young Latin athlete.
A slight touch upon the shoulder caused the young mendicant to turnsharply; but his brow cleared as he welcomed, with a beaming smile,Attilio's familiar face, and heard him saying, in a lively tone, "Ah!art thou here, brother?" And although no tie of blood was between them,Attilio and Muzio might, indeed, have been mistaken for brothers, theirnobility of feature and brave young Roman bearing being so much alike.
"Art thou armed?" inquired Attilio.
"Armed!" repeated Muzio, somewhat disdainfully. "Assuredly; is not myponiard my inheritance, my only patrimony? I love it as well as thoulov'st thy Clelia, or I mine own. But love, forsooth," continuedhe, more bitterly; "what right to love has a beggar--an outcast fromsociety? Who would believe that rags could cover a heart bursting withthe pangs of a true passion?"
"Still," replied Attilio, confidently, "I think that pretty strangerdoes, in truth, love thee."
Muzio remained silent, and his former gloomy expression returned; butAttilio, seeing a storm arising in his friend's soul, and wishing toavert it, took him by the hand, saying gently, "Come."
The young outcast followed without proffering a word. Night was rapidlyclosing in, the foot passengers were gradually decreasing in number, andfew footfalls, except those of the foreign patrols, broke the silencethat was stealing over the city.
The priests are always early to leave the streets--they love to enjoythe goods of this world at home after preaching about the glories of thenext, and care little to trust their skins in Rome after dark. May theday soon come when these mercenary cut-throats are dispensed with!
"We shall be quit of them, and that before long," answered Attiliohopefully, as they descended the Quirinal, now called Monte Cavallo, thesite of the famous horses in stone, _chefs-d'ouvre_ of Grecian art.
Pausing between two of these gigantic effigies, the young artist tookfrom his pocket a flint and steel and struck a light, the signal agreedupon between him and the three hundred, some of whom had agreed to helphim in a bold attempt to release Manlio from his unlawful imprisonment.
The signal was answered immediately from the extreme end of the Piazza;the two young men advanced towards it, and were met by a soldierbelonging to a detachment on guard at the palace, who conducted themthrough a half-concealed doorway near the principal entrance, upa narrow flight of stairs into a small room generally used by thecommander of the guard; here he left them, and another soldier steppedforward to receive the pair, who, after placing chairs for them at atable, on which burned an oil-lamp, flanked by two or three bottles andsome glasses, seated himself.
"Let us drink a glass of Orvieto, my friends," said the soldier; "itwill do us more good on a bitter night like this than the Holy Father'sblessing," handing them each, as he spoke, a goblet filled to the brim.
"Success to your enterprise!" cried Muzio.
"Amen," responded Attilio, as he took a deep draught. "So Manliohas been brought here," said he, addressing Dentato, the sergeant ofdragoons, for such was the name of their military friend..
"Yes; he was locked up last night in one of our secret cells, as if hehad been the most dangerous of criminals, poor innocent! I hear he is tobe removed shortly," added Dentato, "to the Castle of St. Angelo."
"Do you know by whose order he was arrested?" inquired Attilio.
"By the order of ins Eminence the Cardinal Procopio, it is said, who isanxious, doubtless, to remove all impediments likely to frustrate hisdesigns upon the Pearl of Trastevere."
As Dentato uttered these words, a sudden tremor shook the frame ofAttilio. "And at what hour shall we make the attempt to liberate him?"he hissed, as his hand clenched his dagger.
"Liberate him! Why, we are too few," the soldier replied.
"Not so," continued Attilio. "Silvio has given his word that he will behere shortly with ten of our own, and then we shall have no difficultyin dealing with these sbirri and monks." After a pause, Dentatoresponded, "Well, as you are, then, determined to attempt his releaseto-night, we had better wait a few hours, when jailers and director willbe asleep, or under the influence of their liquor. My lieutenant is,fortunately, detained by a delicate affair at a distance, so we willtry it if your friend turns up." Before he could well finish his speech,however, Dentato was interrupted by the entrance of the guard left atthe gate, announcing the arrival of Silvio.