Volume Iii Part 8 (1/2)

'I know not; and the father is dead.'

'Oh,' said the priest, 'you should have brought him to Italy and placed him in the school of the Monastery of St. Joseph.'

'Yes, holy father, I ought to have brought him up in the true faith. I hear his father is dead; I hear they believe there is no heir; I hear the brother and his family are now in possession of the estate. I know all about them. They are of the Low Church school which hates our faith, abuses its priests, and even the Holy Father-'

'Hus.h.!.+' said the priest, 'do not sully your lips with the foolishness and wickedness of these poor Protestants. I have heard them talk their blasphemies in Naples, and even at Rome itself. It is the holy Inquisition that we need to put a stop to such vile calumnies.'

'I had my revenge; but I know not what became of the boy. If we could gain his rights we could make a Catholic of him. I am no longer a penitent, holy father. I feel as if I had been a mighty instrument in paving the way for the return of the true religion to that unhappy land.

Here,' placing in the priest's hand a handsome casket, 'are the doc.u.ments which will establish his claim. You go to London. You will see the lawyer of the family; he cannot deny the claim. Oh, I feel so joyful!

I've gained my revenge! and is it not a sanctified one, as it is for the good of the Church?'

'Daughter,' said the priest, 'I would fain say in the language of the Holy Book, ”Many daughters have done well, but thou hast surpa.s.sed them all.” Still, it seems to me so marvellous, I can scarcely understand it.'

'The mystery is being cleared up. I saw an English actress in the street yesterday, who I believe can help us in the matter. But in the meanwhile let us see these doc.u.ments. We shall have done a great work for the Church if we can take these doc.u.ments, find the child, establish his claims in a court of law, and secure him as a true son of the Church.

Ah, that will be grand!' said the Countess joyfully. 'I gain a son for the Church.'

'Heaven will reward you, daughter,' said the priest; 'but hasten and fetch the casket.'

The Countess left the room to find it. In a little while she returned with it in her hands.

'There it is,' said she, as she handed it to the priest.

'What a lovely casket!' said the priest.

'Ah, one thinks of what it contains,' said the lady; 'a t.i.tle-an estate-a life, which will all be handed over to the Church.'

With a trembling hand the priest opened it; the Countess in an equally excited state looking on.

In the casket was an official-looking wrapper.

'It is all right,' said the Countess; 'break the seal and master its contents.'

'All in good time,' said the priest. 'Don't agitate yourself; be calm.'

'I am,' said the Countess; 'but delay not. Secure the prize; the hour has come.'

Suddenly the priest turned red and white. 'In the name of the Holy Father,' he said, 'what have we here?'

'Why, doc.u.ments of the highest importance.'

'Nothing of the kind,' exclaimed the priest in a rage. 'Nothing but an old English newspaper,' as he threw it on the ground, with something that sounded like a rather expressive Italian oath.

The lady shrieked and nearly fainted away, only she thought better of it.

The situation, it occurred to her, would be neither interesting nor picturesque. Alas! she had no help for it. That English maid-servant, of whom she fancied she had made a dupe, was more than a match for her after all, and had tampered with the doc.u.ments she had carefully sealed and religiously guarded these many years.

All she could do was weep, and weep she did, till she nearly wept herself to death, failing of her long-treasured scheme of revenge. Of her servant she had lost all trace. To find her was out of the question; her only hope was in Miss Howard.

But they never met. The Countess and the priest could do nothing; and Rose and her husband soon tired of the fruitless search and returned, to remember in after years the delights of the Bay of Naples-'the most beautiful spot in the world,' writes George Eliot. Everything takes us back to the past. It was in the bay that pious aeneas landed. Caligula, and Nero, and Tiberius, all loved the spot. The grotto of the Sybil was near, too; the tomb of Virgil is yet shown in that neighbourhood. Capua, famed for its luxury and ease, was not far off. No wonder the world flocks to the Bay of Naples. I stay at the Hotel de Vesuve, kept by Mr.