So various and contradictory were the thoughts which agitated Rosalie during the night, that she found it impossible to sleep; she arose with the earliest dawn, and, though so many hours were to intervene before that of her appointment, she could not forbear going to the place she had marked to her new friend for their meeting, that she might be sure she had described it accurately. She returned, however, almost immediately to the house, for, conscious of having something to hide, she now feared Cattina might suspect her.
From the windows towards the sea she now again saw the Maltese galley, which had been some days hovering on the coast. It cast anchor near the shore, a boat put off from it, and landed behind a small promontory, which formed one side of the port. It now occurred to Rosalie, that there was some connection between the arrival of this vessel and that of her new acquaintance. He came then from Malta, and was in all probability returning thither. If such was the case, how could he charge himself with her and her child?—or, admitting he would do so, how could she expose herself to the hazard of traversing the sea in a Maltese vessel, which, she knew, was liable to be continually engaged by Turkish and Algerine pirates. These doubts, added to these she had before, served to agitate her spirits so much, that, when the hour of the appointment came, she had hardly strength to go to the fountain in the wood, where her English friend had arrived before her.
Rosalie trembled, and looked so pale as she advanced towards him, that, alarmed, he said—"I hope, Madam, nothing has happened, since I had the honour of meeting you yesterday, to give you uneasiness?—I hope the favour you do me, by thus condescending to come hither - - - - - - - - -"
Rosalie, whose heart beat so violently that she was unable to speak, interrupted him by a deep sigh, and a faint attempt to articulate "No, Sir! nothing has happened—only I am so—so—unfortunate, and so uncertain what is to become of me, that - - - - - - - - -." She could not proceed, but leaned against a tree, and tried to recover herself, while the stranger, who was apprehensive she would faint, led her towards a piece of broken marble, and entreated her to sit down upon it; she did so, and, in a short time, assured him she was better, and begged his pardon for the weakness she had betrayed.
"I own, Madam, (said the stranger), that my curiosity is very strongly excited, and that I am impatient to know how I can be servicable to you? I might claim a sort of privilege to be admitted to your confidence, because I am of the same nation; but I rather rest my pleas on the earnest inclination I feel to be employed in your service: if, as I fear, you are unhappy, and suffering from the tyranny of some relation - - - - - - - - -." The stranger hesitated, as if uncertain how to proceed on a subject that might be of a very delicate nature, and, from his manner, it struck Rosalie as if he thought she was confined by her husband—an impression which might involve her in very disagreeable consequences. She, therefore, took courage to say—"It is true I am a prisoner at this place, and am most desirous of being released, in hopes of being restored to my husband, who would, I am sure, be very grateful to any one who undertook to assist me in regaining my liberty—if (added she) he still lives—as I will not suffer myself to doubt."
"Good God! (exclaimed the English stranger), by what accident, for it is impossible it should be from choice, could a man, happy enough to be your husband, allow himself to be torn from you; and who can have authority to confine you here?"
"My story is long and extraordinary, (answered Rosalie); I can only relate now, that I was separated from my husband in consequence of the earthquake which destroyed Messina, and that his mother, averse to his marriage with a woman of another religion and country, has taken occasion to divide us, as she hopes, for ever, by confining me here, and probably by persuading him that I am no more."
"He is an Italian then?" cried the stranger.
"Born of an Italian mother, (replied Rosalie), but his father was an Englishman, and of an ancient English family."—The recollection that Montalbert might at this moment believe her dead, and even be the husband of another, added to the fear that she was perhaps doing wrong, and putting herself into the power of a man who might take base advantages of her confidence, were sensations so uneasy, that, losing the little fortitude she had collected, she burst into tears.
The gentleman appeared to be really hurt at her distress; and, lowering his voice, said—"I thank you, Madam, for the confidence you have already placed in me; perhaps I ought not to expect you to trust me farther, till I tell you who it is that you so highly honour, and by what accident I am in a part of Italy so seldom visited by English travellers. But suffer me to ask, if you are now secure from the malicious observations of this Italian woman, who exercises over you tyranny so unjustifiable?"
"There are only servants in the castle, (replied Rosalie). My persecutors deemed them sufficient for the purpose of guarding me in a place so remote, that my escape seemed impossible.......I believe they will not molest me here, as I am accustomed to walk alone of an evening."
"Since you permit me then, (said the stranger), I will relate, in a few words, what you have a right, Madam, to know, before I can expect you will rely on my assurances, of being ready to render you any service you may honour me with; and yet I am sensible that a man is never more awkwardly circumstanced than when he is obliged to speak of himself, and, above all, to tell who he is. It is particularly difficult for me to do this, (added he, in a dejected tone), since I have not unfrequently forgotten myself, or, at least, been in a disposition of mind which made me very sincerely try at it."—
He paused, but Rosalie continuing silent and attentive to him, he went on—
"Perhaps, if your residence in England was in the west, you may have heard of the family of Walsingham—I am of that family.......It is not necessary to relate to you, Madam, the particular circumstances of a life which has had nothing uncommon in it, unless it be that I lost, at an early period, the person with whom I hoped to have passed it in as much happiness as mutual affection and a coincidence of disposition could promise.—From that time, the death of my elder brother having made the pursuit of the profession to which I was brought up unnecessary, I have wandered over the world, with the hope of finding, in change of place, a temporary relief for the wounds which no time can cure; and I have succeeded so far, as to take some interest in the objects which nature, or art, present to the traveller, particularly in Italy: as I had before visited almost every part of it, except Malta and Calabria ultra, and found that my spirits once more required change of place, I left England about two months since for Leghorn, from thence I got a passage to Malta, and having a curiosity to visit that part of Calabria immediately opposite the coast of Sicily, which had been so lately the scene of one of the most tremendous convulsions of Nature on record, I embarked in a Maltese galley, commanded by the Chevalier de Montagny, a French Knight of Malta, with whom I had been fortunate enough to make an acquaintance; and we designed to have extended our cruize to the Gulph of Manfredonia, but having seen an Algerine or Turkish xebec, which the Chevalier had reason to believe was hovering about the coast with piratical intentions, he determined to attempt taking it. We were in chase for many hours; after which, the Chevalier casting anchor about a mile from hence, I inquired, as I usually do, what there was worth landing to see?—and with some difficulty discovered, that we were near the ancient port of Formiscusa, where there were a few fine remnants of Roman buildings, and where I might very probably find coins, or small pieces of sculpture. My friend de Montagny, whose intention it was to watch the xebec, which, he believed, intended to return, assured me, that I might come on shore and satisfy my curiosity without any danger of his leaving me behind. I availed myself, therefore, of occasion, and had been purchasing some antiquities, of little value to them, among the peasants of the village, when, surveying that spot where there are evidently the ruins of a temple, I was surprised to observe a lady, whom I immediately saw was very unlike the inhabitants of the surrounding country, and who, on my nearer approach, I heard speak in accents which confirmed by first idea of her being an Englishwoman.......Ah! Madam, how happy shall I esteem myself, if, in the accidental indulgence of that curiosity, where the highest gratification it can afford, is but a very transient relief to a mind incurably hurt, I should prove the means of being essentially useful to a young lady—who—I am ill at expressing what I feel, and know that you are, that you must be, superior to common-place compliments: yet I cannot refrain from saying, that, as being of the same country, you have on that score a right to my best services, though, that were you of any other, one need only behold you to be convinced that you must command the most respectful homage of every man."
Rosalie, who had rather the latter part of this speech had been spared, now hesitated, blushed, and attempted to speak, but she failed; and Walsingham, who saw her embarrassment, and appeared perfectly to understand it, resumed his discourse.
"Unless I know more of your situation, than, on so short an acquaintance, you may think it proper to entrust me with, I cannot venture to advise; but I can, with great truth, assure you, that if you will venture to put yourself under my care, I shall think it the most fortunate circumstance of my life, to be allowed to conduct you from hence, in whatever manner you think consistent with safety or propriety, and to whatever place you shall point out. I will not leave you till you are secure in the protection of some of your friends, and I will attend you either to any part of the continent, or to England."
Rosalie, now confirmed in her resolution to depart, looked as it she would express her thanks, when Walsingham, who appeared already to have acquired the art of reading her thoughts, said, "And do not, I beseech you, Madam, imagine that, by my undertaking this, you will be under the least obligation to me: far otherwise, believe me—for you will confer the greatest to possible obligations on a man, to whom life has no longer any value, but what he can derive from being serviceable to others."
Rosalie now thought herself perfectly justified in accepting an offer which threatened no inconvenience to the stranger, while it promised to restore her to liberty, and, perhaps, to felicity. Dismissing then all the objections, which still attempted to obtrude themselves on her mind, she entered into a discussion of the best means of escaping from a place, where the few precautions, that were taken to secure her stay, arose merely from the supposed impracticability of her flight.
After a long conversation it was agreed, that however desirable it might be for her to go by land, yet she would incur great risk of being pursued, and in such roads must inevitably be overtaken.—Nothing therefore remained but for her to accept what Mr. Walsingham very earnestly offered, in the name of his friend the Chevalier de Montagny, a conveyance in the Maltese galley to any port from whence it was possible a passage to England could be the most quickly obtained; Walsingham assuring her that the vessel and its commander would be entirely at her orders.
This point being settled, it was next to be considered how and when she could leave her prison with the least probability of detection. This was not difficult; but aware, from past experience, of the many inconveniences which must be encountered at sea, it was necessary that what baggage she had should go with her, she reminded Walsingham that she could not convey this herself, nor could she even carry it from her room to the lower part of the house, without hazarding a discovery. After a moment's consideration he obviated this objection, by telling her, that as, from her description, the castle was very large, and that there were only two servants and a peasant who slept there, nothing was more easy than to introduce a sailor, or more, if more were requisite, who would probably be able to pass through the house unnoticed, and convey away whatever she wished to have with her. He added, "and I will come with them myself to prevent all accidents from rashness or blunders. There is a moon, about two o'clock, which will afford us light enough; it is an hour when your keepers will be asleep, and there can be no difficulty in your then leaving a house so slightly guarded."
Rosalie now recollected that there was a very material one—that of the doors being always shut of a night with great circumspection, at least so she imagined, because she had frequently heard Cattina, after she had left her of a night, go round all that part of the building adjoining the great staircase, up which the distant noise of shutting and barring the massive doors sounded in sullen echoes. She had often listened, after all had been still, for some moments, and believed that she heard the same precautions taken in the more remote parts of the edifice; parts, indeed, where she had never been.
When she communicated this to Mr. Walsingham, be became impatient.—"If the doors are not easily opened, (cried he), we will cut them down; any, rather batter them with three or four eight pounders, from our galley, than fail."—Rosalie turned pale at the very mention of any expedient of this kind.—Ah, no! (said she); if my escape cannot be effected without the hazard of shedding blood, I must resign myself to my deplorable destiny—for I had rather perish here than be the cause of one man's death.
Ah! Sir, you do not consider, that, by the least alarm given from the castle, the village below, as well as another higher up the country, would, in an instant, send forth their inhabitants; beside there are arms kept in a lower room, which Cattina once showed me, and a subterraneous communication with the cannon you see without."—Walsingham smiled at the formidable phalanx her fancy had thus embodied, well assured that a very few resolute men would put to flight not only the inhabitants of the castle, but all the peasantry around it who could be collected, and who could have little temptation to risk their lives in defending the mansion of a woman, whom they had, perhaps, never seen, and to whom they seemed to be very little obliged. Rosalie, however, after pausing a moment; said she recollected, that, on the day when Cattina undertook to show her where she might, perhaps, find some books, she had led her along a passage adjoining to her bedchamber, and from thence down several flights of narrow stairs to the bottom of the building, whence some places, that appeared like arched vaults, led into the room where the papers were deposited, and from thence there was a door opening into the fossé next the garden. She had particularly remarked this door, because Cattina had opened it to give more light to the apartment, which was extremely obscure, from part of it being under ground.—"Cattina (continued she) left me there alone for a considerable time, and when I came out of the room, the door still remained open; it is therefore probable, that there are no fastening to it, and that I might go from thence, as well as have my clothes conveyed thither, without alarming Cattina and the other servants, who inhabit quite another part of the house."—Walsingham eagerly seized on this idea, but started a difficulty that had not occurred to Rosalie.—"How (said he) shall we, who are strangers to the castle, find this door, unless we are first shown it?"-Rosalie had nothing to propose.—"Unless, (added her new friend, after a little recollection), unless I could, before it is dark, go round the castle, when I think I could easily discover the place; there we would wait for you, or, if we found the door open, make our way up, at the hour appointed, to your apartment."
To this scheme, though she had nothing better to offer, Rosalie objected, because she dreaded, lest the sight of a stranger should raise suspicions in the servants; and she knew that Cattina, whose head was filled with ideas of pirates, since the appearance of one of their xebecs on the coast, was become more then usually vigilant in watching, at the windows, if these objects of her terror again appeared.
"What is to be done then, dearest Madam? (cried Walsingham); we have no time to lose, and it is absolutely necessary that we determine on something.—Can you not, from some place where there is no danger of our being remarked, point out the side of the building where this door opens into the fossé?" ——This appeared the least perilous plan, but it was also the most uncertain. Rosalie then led the way, along the skirts of the wood, to a rising ground, affording a view of the whole building, and bade Mr. Walsingham remark three tall cypresses near its western extremity.——"If you pass them, (said she), and walk straight on, you will come to what was once a deep fossé immediately surrounding the castle; but now it is in many places nearly filled up, and the earth and wall are fallen in, insomuch that, when I looked out for a moment at the door in question, rather for air than from any curiosity, I perceived I could have got up into the garden by this way."——Walsingham fixed his eye steadily on the place, assured Rosalie he should not fail to find it; then again repeated, that he would be punctually at the place, with his own servant and a sailor, at two o'clock in the morning, an hour when he knew the moon would afford light to facilitate their getting on board the vessel, which would immediately sail. He inquired, if Rosalie had a watch; she had lost hers in leaving Sicily; and, therefore, that no mistake might happen as to the hour, he desired she would make use of one of his, which he set by the other.
It now became time to part, for the evening was closing in. Walsingham, after a renewal of every protestation which was likely to encourage the timid adventurer, whose fears and agitation he saw painted in her countenance, took a hasty leave, was presently lost among the trees, while Rosalie slowly returned to her gloomy prison, dreading lest any accident should prevent her leaving it; yet trembling at the hazard she must incur, and the difficulties she must encounter, to regain her liberty.