Olla Podrida

“I am so glad that you are come; we were afraid that you would not. I will see you again directly,” said the domino; and it then fell back into the crowd and disappeared.

It immediately occurred to me that it was my friend Albert who spoke to me. “Very odd,” thought I, “that he should have found me out!” And again I fell into the absurdity of imagining that because I had put on a conspicuous domino, I was sure to be recognised. “What can he want with me? We must be in some difficulty, some unexpected one, that is certain.” Such were my reflections as I slowly descended the steps, occasionally pausing for a moment on one, as I was lost in conjecture, when I was again arrested by a slight slap on the shoulder. I looked round: it was a female; and although she wore her half-mask, it was evident that she was young, and I felt convinced that she was beautiful.

“Not a word,” whispered she, putting her finger to her lip; “follow me.” Of course I followed: who could resist such a challenge?

“You are late,” said the incognito, when we had walked so far away from the palazzo as to be out of hearing of the crowd.

“I did not make up my mind to come until an hour ago,” replied I.

“I was so afraid that you would not come. Albert was sure that you would, he was right. He told me just now that he had spoken to you.”

“What! was that Albert in the rose-coloured domino?”

“Yes; but I dare not stay now—my father will be looking for me. Albert is keeping him in conversation. In half an hour he will speak to you again. Has he explained to you what has occurred?”

“Not one word.”

“If he has not had time—and I doubt if he will have, as he must attend to the preparations—I will write a few lines, if I can, and explain, or at least tell you what to do; but I am so harassed, so frightened! We do indeed require your assistance. Adieu!” So saying, the fair unknown tripped hastily away.

“What the deuce is all this?” muttered I, as I watched her retreating figure. “Albert said that he had an appointment, but he did not make me his confidant. It appears that something which has occurred this night occasions him to require my assistance. Well, I will not fail him.”

For about half an hour I sauntered up and down between the lines of orange-trees which were dressed up with variegated lamps, and shed their powerful fragrance in the air: I ruminated upon what might be my friend’s intentions, and what might be the result of an intrigue carried on in a country where the stiletto follows Love so close through all the mazes of his labyrinth, when I was again accosted by the violet-coloured domino.

“Hist!” whispered he, looking carefully round as he thrust a paper into my hand; “read this after I leave you. In one hour from this be you on this spot. Are you armed?”

“No,” replied I; “but Albert—”

“You may not need it; but nevertheless take this,—I cannot wait.” So saying, he put a stiletto into my hand, and again made a hasty retreat.

It had been my intention to have asked Albert what was his plan, and further why he did not speak English instead of Italian, as he would have been less liable to be understood if overheard by eavesdroppers; but a little reflection told me that he was right in speaking Italian, as the English language overheard would have betrayed him, or at least have identified him as a foreigner.

“A very mysterious affair this!” thought I; “but, however, this paper will, I presume, explain the business. That there is a danger in it is evident, or he would not have given me this weapon;” and I turned the stiletto once or twice to the light of the lamp next to me, examining its blade, when, looking up, I perceived a black domino standing before me.

“It is sharp enough, I warrant,” said the domino; “you have but to strike home. I have been waiting for you in the next walk, which I thought was to be our rendezvous. Here is a paper which you will fasten to his dress. I will contrive that he shall be here in an hour hence by a pretended message. After his death you will put this packet into his bosom;—you understand. Fail not: remember the one thousand sequins; and here is my ring, which I will redeem as soon as your work is done. The others will soon be here. The pass-word is ‘Milano.’ But I must not be seen here. Why a sky-blue domino? it is too conspicuous for escape;” and as I received from him the packet and ring, the black domino retreated through the orange grove which encircled us.

I was lost in amazement: there I stood with my hands full—two papers, a packet, a stiletto, and a diamond ring!

“Well,” thought I, “this time I am most assuredly taken for somebody else—for a bravo I am not. There is some foul work going on, which perhaps I may prevent.”

“But why a sky-blue domino?” said he.

I may well ask the same question. “Why the deuce did I come here in a sky-blue domino, or any domino at all?”

I put the ring on my finger, the stiletto and packet in my bosom, and then hastened away to the garden on the other side of the palazzo, that I might read the mysterious communication put into my hands by my friend Albert; and as I walked on, my love for admiration led me away so as to find myself pleased with the mystery and danger attending upon the affair; and feeling secure, now that I had a stiletto in my bosom for my defence, I resolved that I would go right through it until the whole affair should be unravelled.

I walked on till I had gained the last lamp on the other side of the palazzo. I held up to its light the mysterious paper: it was in Italian, and in a woman’s handwriting.

“We have determined upon flight, as we cannot hope for safety here, surrounded as we are by stilettoes on every side. We feel sure of pardon as soon as the papers which Albert received by this day’s mail, and which he will entrust to you when you meet again, are placed in my father’s hands. We must have your assistance in removing our treasure. Our horses are all ready, and a few hours will put us in safety; but we must look to you for following us in your carriage, and conveying for me what would prove so great an incumbrance to our necessary speed. When Albert sees you again, he will be able to tell you where it is deposited. Follow us quick, and you will always have the gratitude of—

“Viola.

“PS. I write in great haste, as I cannot leave my father’s side for a moment without his seeking for me.”

“What can all this mean? Albert told me of no papers by this day’s mail. Viola! I never heard him mention such a name. He said to me, ‘Read this, and all will be explained.’ I’ll be hanged if I am not as much in the dark as ever! Follow them in my carriage with the treasure—never says where! I presume he is about to run off with some rich heiress. Confound this sky-blue domino! Here I am with two papers, a packet, a stiletto, and a ring; I am to receive another packet, and am to convey treasure. Well, it must solve itself—I will back to my post; but first let me see what is in this paper which I am to affix upon the man’s dress after I have killed him.” I held it up to the light, and read, in capital letters, “The reward of a traitor!” “Short and pithy,” muttered I, as I replaced it in my pocket: “now I’ll back to the place of assignation, for the hour must be nearly expired.”

As I retraced my steps, I again reverted to the communication of Viola—“Surrounded as we are by stilettoes on every side!” Why, surely Albert cannot be the person that I am required by the black domino to despatch; and yet it may be so—and others are to join me here before the hour is passed. A thought struck me: whoever the party might be whose life was to be taken, whether Albert or another, I could save him.

My reverie was again broken by a tap on the shoulder.

“Am I right? What is the pass-word?”

“Milano!” replied I, in a whisper.

“All’s right, then—Giacomo and Tomaso are close by—I will fetch them.”

The man turned away, and in a minute re-appeared with two others, bending as they forced their way under the orange-trees.

“Here we all are, Felippo,” whispered the first. “He is to be here in a few minutes.”

“Hush!” replied I, in a whisper, and holding up to them the brilliant ring which sparkled on my finger.

“Ah, Signor, I cry your mercy,” replied the man, in a low voice; “I thought it was Felippo.”

“Not so loud,” replied I, still in a whisper. “All is discovered, and Felippo is arrested. You must away immediately. You shall hear from me to-morrow.”

“Corpo di Bacco! Where, Signor? at the old place?”

“Yes away—now, and save yourselves.”

In a few seconds the desperate men disappeared among the trees, and I was left alone.

“Slaves of the Ring, you have done my bidding at all events, this time,” thought I, and I looked at the ring more attentively. It was a splendid solitaire diamond, worth many hundred crowns. “Will you ever find your way back to our lawful owner?” was the question in my mind when Albert made his appearance in his violet-coloured domino.

“’Twas imprudent of you to send me the paper by the black domino,” said he, hastily. “Did I not tell you that I would be here in an hour? We have not a moment to spare. Follow me quickly, and be silent.”

I followed—the paper which Albert referred to needed no explanation; it was, indeed, the only part of the whole affair which I comprehended. He led the way to about three hundred yards of the path through the wood.

“There,” said he, “in that narrow avenue, you will find my faithful negro with his charge. He will not deliver it up without you show him this ring.” And Albert put a ring upon my finger.

“But, Albert,”—my mind misgave me—Albert never had a faithful negro to my knowledge; it must be some other person who had mistaken me for his friend,—“I am afraid,” continued I—

“Afraid!—let me not hear you say that. You never yet knew fear,” said he, interrupting me. “What have you to fear between this and Pisa? Your own horses will take you there in three hours. But here’s the packet, which you must deliver yourself. Now that you know where the negro is, return to the palazzo, deliver it into his own hands, requesting his immediate perusal. After that do not wait a moment, but hasten here to your charge. While the Grand Duke is reading it I will escape with Viola.”

“I really cannot understand all this,” said I, taking the packet.

“All will be explained when we meet at Pisa. Away, now; to the Grand Duke—I will go to the negro and prepare him for your coming.”

“But allow me—”

“Not a word more, if you love me,” replied the violet-coloured domino, who, I was now convinced, was not Albert; it was not his voice—there was a mystery and a mistake; but I had become so implicated that I felt I could not retreat without sacrificing the parties, whoever they might be.

“Well,” said I, as I turned back to the palazzo, “I must go on now; for, as a gentleman and man of honour, I cannot refuse. I will give the packet to the Grand Duke, and I will also convey his treasure to Pisa, Confound this sky-blue domino!”

As I returned to the palazzo, I was accosted by the black domino.

“Milano!” replied I.

“Is all right, Felippo?” said he, in a whisper.

“All is right, Signor,” was my answer.

“Where is he?”

I pointed with my finger to a clump of orange-trees.

“And the paper and packet?”

I nodded my head.

“Then you had better away—I will see you to-morrow.”

“At the old place, Signor?”

“Yes,” replied the black domino, cutting into a cross-path, and disappearing.

I arrived at the palazzo, mounted the steps, forced my way through the crowd, and perceived the Grand Duke in an inner saloon, the lady who had accosted me leaning on his arm. It then occurred to me that the Grand Duke had an only daughter, whose name was Viola. I entered the saloon, which was not crowded, and walking boldly up to the Grand Duke, presented the packet, requesting that his Highness would give it his immediate attention. I then bowed, and hastened away, once more passed through the thronged hall, and gained the marble steps of the palazzo.

“Have you given it?” said a low voice close to me.

“I have,” replied I; “but, Signor—”

“Not a word, Carlo: hasten to the wood, if you love me.” And the violet-coloured domino forced his way into the crown which filled the hall.

“Now for my journey to Pisa,” said I. “Here I am, implicated in high treason, perhaps, in consequence of my putting on a sky-blue domino. Well, there’s no help for it.”

In a few minutes I had gained the narrow avenue, and having pursued it about fifty yards, perceived the glaring eyes of the crouched negro. By the starlight, I could just distinguish that he had a basket, or something like one, before him.

“What do you come for, Signor?” said the negro, rising on his feet.

“For what has been placed under your charge; here is the ring of your master.”

The negro put his fingers to the ring and felt it, that he might recognise it by its size and shape.

“Here it is, Signor,” said he, lifting up the basket gently, and putting it into my arms. It was not heavy, although somewhat cumbrous from its size.

“Hark! Signor, there is confusion in the palazzo. You must be quick, and I must not be seen with you.” And away darted the negro like lightning through the bushes.

I also hastened away with the basket (contents unknown), for it appeared to me that affairs were coming to a crisis. I heard people running different ways, and voices approaching me. When I emerged from the narrow avenue, I perceived several figures coming down the dark walk at a rapid pace, and, seized with a sort of panic, I took to my heels. I soon found that they were in pursuit, and I increased my speed. In the gloom of the night, I unfortunately tripped over a stone, and fell with the basket to the ground; and then the screams from within informed me that the treasure intrusted to my safe keeping was a child. Fearful that it was hurt, and forgetting, for the time, the danger of being captured, I opened the lid, and examined its limbs, while I tried to pacify it; and while I was sitting down in my sky-blue domino, thus occupied in hushing a baby, I was seized by both shoulders, and found myself a prisoner.

“What is the meaning of this rudeness, Signors?” said I, hardly knowing what to say.

“You are arrested by order of the Grand Duke,” was the reply.

“I am arrested!—why?—I am an Englishman!”

“That makes no difference; the orders are to arrest all found in the garden in sky-blue dominos.”

“Confound the sky-blue domino!” thought I, for the twentieth time at least. “Well, Signora, I will attend you; but first let me try to pacify this poor frightened infant.”

“Strange that he should be found running away with a child at the same time that the Lady Viola has disappeared!” observed one of my captors.

“You are right, Signora,” replied I; “it is very strange; and what is more strange is, that I can no more explain it than you can. I am now ready to accompany you. Oblige me by one of you carrying the basket while I take care of the infant.”

In a few minutes we had arrived at the palazzo. I had retained my mask, and I was conducted through the crowd into the saloon into which I had previously entered when I delivered the packet to the Grand Duke.

“There he is! there he is!” was buzzed through the crowd in the hall. “Holy Virgin! he has a child in his arms! Bambino bellissimo!” Such were the exclamations of wonder and surprise as they made a lane for my passage, and I was in the presence of the Grand Duke, who appeared to be in a state of great excitement.

“It is the same person!” exclaimed the Duke. “Confess! are you not the party who put a packet into my hands about a quarter of an hour since?”

“I am the person, your Highness,” replied I, as I patted and soothed the frightened child.

“Who gave it you?”

“May it please your Highness, I do not know.”

“What child is that?”

“May it please your Highness, I do not know.”

“Where did you get it?”

“Out of that basket, your Highness.”

“Who gave you the basket?”

“May it please your Highness, I do not know.”

“You are trifling with me. Let him be searched.”

“May it please your Highness, I will save them that trouble, if one of the ladies will take the infant. I have received a great many presents this evening, all of which I will have the honour of displaying before your Highness.”

One of the ladies held out her arms to the infant, who immediately bent from mine toward her, naturally clinging to the other sex as its friend in distress.

“In the first place, your Highness, I have this evening received this ring,” taking off my finger the one given by the party in a violet-coloured domino, and presenting it to him.

“And from whom?” said his Highness, instantly recognising the ring.

“May it please your Highness, I do not know. I have also received another ring, your Highness,” continued I, taking off the ring given me by the black domino.

“And who gave you this?” interrogated the Duke, again evidently recognising it.

“May it please your Highness, I do not know. Also, this stiletto, but from whom, I must again repeat, I do not know. Also, this packet, with directions to put it into a dead man’s bosom.”

“And you are, I presume, equally ignorant of the party who gave it to you?”

“Equally so, your Highness; as ignorant as I am of the party who desired me to present you with the other packet which I delivered. Here is also a paper I was desired to pin upon a man’s clothes after I had assassinated him.”

“Indeed!—and to this, also, you plead total ignorance?”

“I have but one answer to give to all, your Highness, which is, I do not know.”

“Perhaps, Sir, you do not know your own name or profession,” observed his Highness, with a sneer.

“Yes, your Highness,” replied I, taking off my mask, “that I do know. I am an Englishman, and, I trust, a gentleman, and a man of honour. My name is Herbert; and I have more than once had the honour to be a guest at your Highness’s entertainments.”

“Signor, I recognise you,” replied the Grand Duke. “Let the room be cleared—I must speak with this gentleman alone.”

When the company had quitted the saloon, I entered into a minute detail of the events of the evening, to which his Highness paid the greatest attention; and when I had finished, the whole mystery was unravelled to me by him, and with which I will now satisfy the curiosity of my readers.

The Grand Duke had one daughter, by name Viola, whom he had wished to marry to Rodolph, Count of Istria; but Viola had met with Albert, Marquis of Salerno, and a mutual attachment had ensued. Although the Grand Duke would not force his daughter’s wishes and oblige her to marry Count Rodolph, at the same time he would not consent to her espousals with the Marquis Albert. Count Rodolph had discovered the intimacy between Viola and the Marquis of Salerno, and had made more than one unsuccessful attempt to get rid of his rival by assassination. After some time, a private marriage with the marquis had been consented to by Viola; and a year afterwards the Lady Viola retired to the country, and without the knowledge, or even suspicions, of her father, had given birth to a male child, which had been passed off as the offspring of one of the ladies of the court who was married, and to whom the secret had been confided.

At this period the secret societies, especially the Carbonari, had become formidable in Italy, and all the crowned heads and reigning princes were using every exertion to suppress them. Count Rodolph was at the head of these societies, having joined them to increase his power, and to have at his disposal the means of getting rid of his rival. Of this the Marquis of Salerno had received intimation, and for some time had been trying to obtain proof against the count; for he knew that if once it was proved, Count Rodolph would never be again permitted to appear in the state of Lucca. On the other hand, Count Rodolph had been making every arrangement to get rid of his rival, and had determined that it should be effected at this masquerade.

The Marquis of Salerno had notice given him of this intention, and also had on that morning obtained the proof against Count Rodolph, which he was now determined to forward to the Grand Duke; but, aware that his assassination by the Carbonari was to be attempted, and also that the wrath of the Grand Duke would be excessive when he was informed of their private marriage, he resolved to fly with his wife to Pisa, trusting that the proofs of Count Rodolph being connected with the Carbonari, and a little time, would soften down the Grand Duke’s anger. The marquis had arranged that he should escape from the Duke’s dominions on the night of the masquerade, as it would be much easier for his wife to accompany him from thence than from the Grand Duke’s palace, which was well guarded; but it was necessary that they should travel on horseback, and they could not take their child with them. Viola would not consent that it should be left behind; and on this emergency he had written to his friend, the Count d’Ossore, to come to their assistance at the masquerade, and, that they might recognise him, to wear a sky-blue domino, a colour but seldom put on. The Count d’Ossore had that morning left his town mansion on a hunting excursion, and did not receive the letter, of which the Marquis and Viola were ignorant. Such was the state of affairs at the time that I put on the sky-blue domino to go to the masquerade.

My first meeting with the marquis in his violet-coloured domino is easily understood: being in a sky-blue domino I was mistaken for the Count d’Ossore. I was myself led into the mistake by the Marquis Albert having the same Christian name as my English friend. The second meeting with the Count Rodolph, in the black domino, was accidental. The next walk had been appointed as the place of meeting with the Carbonari Felippo and his companions; but Count Rodolph, perceiving me examining my stiletto by the light of the lamp, presumed that I was Felippo, and that I had mistaken the one path for the other which had been agreed upon. The papers given to me by Count Rodolph were Carbonari papers, which were to be hid in the marquis’s bosom after he had been assassinated, to make it appear that he had belonged I to that society, and by the paper affixed to his clothes, that he had been murdered by the agents of the society for having betrayed them. The papers which the marquis had requested me to give to the Grand Duke were the proofs of Count Rodolph’s belonging to the secret society; and with the papers was enclosed a letter to the Grand Duke, in which they I acknowledged their secret union. And now, I believe, the reader will comprehend the whole of this mysterious affair.

After all had been explained, I ventured to ask his Highness if he would permit me to fulfil my promise of taking the child to its mother, as I considered it a point of honour that I should keep my engagement, the more so, as the delay would occasion the greatest distress to his daughter; and I ventured to add, that I trusted his Highness would pardon what could not now be remedied, and that I should have the satisfaction of being the bearer of such pleasing intelligence to his daughter and the marquis.

The Grand Duke paced the room for a minute, and then replied, “Signor Herbert, I feel so disgusted with the treachery and baseness of Count Rodolph, that I hardly need observe, if my daughter were free he never should espouse her; indeed, he will have immediate orders to quit the state. You have been instrumental in preserving the life of the Marquis of Salerno, who is my son-in-law, and as matters now stand, I am indebted to you. Your dismissal of the bravoes, by means of the count’s ring, was a masterly stroke. You shall have the pleasure of taking my forgiveness to my daughter and her husband; but as for the child, it may as well remain here. Tell Viola I retain it as a hostage for the quick return of its mother.”

I took my leave of his Highness, and hastened to Pisa, where I soon found out the retreat of the marquis and his wife. I sent up my name, requesting immediate admittance, as having a message from the Grand Duke. I found them in great distress. The Count d’Ossore had returned late on the night of the masquerade, found the letter, hastened to the Marquesa de Cesto’s, and had arrived just after the elopement had been discovered. He immediately followed them to Pisa, when an explanation took place, and they discovered that they had been communicating with some unknown person, by whom they had, in all probability, been betrayed.