Part 8 (2/2)
”And Manlio, Julia, Aurelia, where are they?” ”Probably far out at sea,”
he replied; ”and let us only hope it, for so they will be safe; but it would be well before we strike out into the woods once more to examine the beach. G.o.d grant we may not find any more bodies there.”
”G.o.d grant they may not have been cast upon the coast during this fearful storm,” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Silvia, with clasped hands and raised eyes.
A mournful silence fell upon them, broken at last by Orazio, who had been looking out for the first streak of light in the leaden sky.
”Signora, it is time we were off.”
Silvia shook her daughter gently to arouse her, and Clelia got up, feeling greatly restored by her peaceful slumber, while Orazio, touching John with the b.u.t.t-end of his carbine, awoke him.
Then, for the first time, the sailor-boy was able to tell how he was washed overboard, and his account gave hopes to the listeners that the _Seagull_ was safe.
Our bandit, going first, led his party in the direction of the coast; but, although the rain had ceased, the wind had not subsided, and the women made their way with difficulty along the rough, uneven pathway, the spray from the sea beating in their faces. Orazio and John, who was now nearly recovered, searched for the tokens of a wreck, but, happily, none were found, and they returned to Silvia and Clelia, whom they had left in a sheltered place, with relieved countenances and cheerful voices, saying, ”Our friends are out of danger.” Orazio added, ”And now, ladies, we will begin our own journey,” turning at the same time to the right, and taking a narrow footpath through the wood well known to him.
His charges, attended by John the English boy, followed in silence.
CHAPTER XXVII. THE WITHDRAWAL
After the affair at the Baths of Caracalla, the position of Attilio and his companions became very much compromised. The traitor had, indeed, paid for his infamy with his life; but
though the Government's mercenaries had had the worst of it, the police were now on the alert, and, if not quite certain, could make a shrewd guess as to who were the leaders of the conspiracy.
If, however, the friends of liberty from outside had been as ready as the Romans, the conspirators might yet have had it all their own way on the 15th of February, or, indeed, at any other time. But the ”Moderates,” always indissolubly bound to the chariots of selfishness, would not hear the words ”To arms!” They preferred waiting, at whatever cost, until the manna of freedom fell from heaven into their mouths, or the foreigner should come to their relief, and set their country free.
What cared they for national dignity, or the contemptuous smile of all other European nations at the open buying and selling of provinces!
They were thinking first of gain and remunerative employment, and were consequently deaf to all generous propositions likely to set in risk their Eldorado of profits, though they would, if successful, procure national unity and prosperity by energetic action.
This middle-cla.s.s cowardice is the cause of Italy's degradation at the present day, and were it not for that, the kissing of the slipper would be an infamy of the past. It is the reason, too, why Italy's soil is so often vainly wet with the blood of her n.o.bler, braver sons; and why those who escape the sword wander in forests to avoid the vengeance of those robed hyenas; and why the poor remain in abject misery.
Such was the condition of Rome at the beginning of the year 1867. She might have been happy, regenerated, and powerful, crowned with glorious liberty and independence, had not the foreigner come to the aid of the falsely-called ”father of his people.” Now she grovels in bondage, loaded with French chains.
One evening, early in March, Attilio, Muzio, and Silvio met at Manlio's house to discuss their future movements. They had remained in Rome in the hope of achieving something, but the labyrinth was far too intricate to allow our youthful and inexperienced heroes to extricate themselves, and the Three Hundred to extricate themselves and their countrymen from it.
”There is no use,” spoke Attilio, bitterly, ”in dedicating one's life to the good of one's country in these days, when the 'Moderates,' check all our efforts, and basely reconcile themselves with the enemies of Italy.
_Ohime!_ How can Romans ever do so! How can they ever live in harmony with those who have sold them and theirs so many times! who have precipitated us from the first rank among the nations to the lowest! who have corrupted and polluted our city! who have tortured our fathers and violated our virgins!”
In his wrath Attilio's voice had risen until he literally shouted.
Silvio, more composed, said, ”Speak lower, brother, thou knowest how we are pursued; perchance there may even now be some accursed spy near.
Be patient, and for the present let us leave Regola in charge of our affairs, and quit the city. In the country we have true and courageous friends. Let us leave Rome until she is tired of being the laughing stock of these leeches, who live by imposture and tyranny. Let us go.
Our generous countrymen will call us brigands, adventurers, as they did the Thousand during the glorious expedition of Marsala, which astonished the world. What matters it to us? Now, as then, we will work and watch for the liberty of this our unhappy country. When she is willing to emanc.i.p.ate herself, we will fly to her rescue.”
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