Part 29 (1/2)
There was a pause. Ferrari raised himself slightly from his reclining position and seemed about to speak, but apparently changing his mind he remained silent--his face had somewhat paled. The momentary hesitation among my guests pa.s.sed quickly. All present, except Guido, broke out into a chorus of congratulations, mingled with good-humored jesting and laughter.
”Say farewell to jollity, conte!” cried Chevalier Mancini; ”once drawn along by the rustling music of a woman's gown, no more such feasts as we have had to-night!”
And he shook his head with tipsy melancholy.
”By all the G.o.ds!” exclaimed Gualdro, ”your news has surprised me! I should have thought you were the last man to give up liberty for the sake of a woman. ONE woman, too! Why, man, freedom could give you twenty!”
”Ah!” murmured Sal.u.s.tri, softly and sentimentally, ”but the one perfect pearl--the one flawless diamond--”
”Bah! Sal.u.s.tri, caro mio, you are half asleep!” returned Gualdro. ”'Tis the wine talks, not you. Thou art conquered by the bottle, amico. You, the darling of all the women in Naples, to talk of one! Buona notte, bambino!”
I still maintained my standing position, leaning my two hands on the table before me.
”What our worthy Gualdro says,” I went on, ”is perfectly true. I have been noted for my antipathy to the fair s.e.x. I know it. But when one of the loveliest among women comes out of her way to tempt me--when she herself displays the matchless store of her countless fascinations for my attraction--when she honors me by special favors and makes me plainly aware that I am not too presumptuous in venturing to aspire to her hand in marriage--what can I do but accept with a good grace the fortune thrown to me by Providence? I should be the most ungrateful of men were I to refuse so precious a gift from Heaven, and I confess I feel no inclination to reject what I consider to be the certainty of happiness. I therefore ask you all to fill your gla.s.ses, and do me the favor to drink to the health and happiness of my future bride.”
Gualdro sprung erect, his gla.s.s held high in the air; every man followed his example, Ferrari rose to his feet with some unsteadiness, while the hand that held his full champagne gla.s.s trembled.
The Duke di Marina, with a courteous gesture, addressed me: ”You will, of course, honor us by disclosing the name of the fair lady whom we are prepared to toast with all befitting reverence?”
”I was about to ask the same question,” said Ferrari, in hoa.r.s.e accents--his lips were dry, and he appeared to have some difficulty in speaking. ”Possibly we are not acquainted with her?”
”On the contrary,” I returned, eying him steadily with a cool smile.
”You all know her name well! Ill.u.s.trissimi Signori!” and my voice rang out clearly--”to the health of my betrothed wife, the Contessa Romani!”
”Liar!” shouted Ferrari--and with all a madman's fury he dashed his br.i.m.m.i.n.g gla.s.s of champagne full in my face! In a second the wildest scene of confusion ensued. Every man left his place at table and surrounded us. I stood erect and perfectly calm--wiping with my handkerchief the little runlets of wine that dripped from my clothing--the gla.s.s had fallen at my feet, striking the table as it fell and splitting itself to atoms.
”Are you drunk or mad, Ferrari?” cried Captain de Hamal, seizing him by the arm--”do you know what you have done?”
Ferrari glared about him like a tiger at bay--his face was flushed and swollen like that of a man in apoplexy--the veins in his forehead stood out like knotted cords--his breath came and went hard as though he had been running. He turned his rolling eyes upon me. ”d.a.m.n you!” he muttered through his clinched teeth--then suddenly raising his voice to a positive shriek, he cried, ”I will have your blood if I have to tear your heart for it!”--and he made an effort to spring upon me. The Marquis D'Avencourt quietly caught his other arm and held it as in a vise.
”Not so fast, not so fast, mon cher” he said, coolly. ”We are not murderers, we! What devil possesses you, that you offer such unwarrantable insult to our host?”
”Ask HIM!” replied Ferrari, fiercely, struggling to release himself from the grasp of the two Frenchmen--”he knows well enough! Ask HIM!”
All eyes were turned inquiringly upon me. I was silent.
”The n.o.ble conte is really not bound to give any explanation,” remarked Captain Freccia--”even admitting he were able to do so.”
”I a.s.sure you, my friends,” I said, ”I am ignorant of the cause of this fracas, except that this young gentleman had pretensions himself to the hand of the lady whose name affects him so seriously!”
For a moment I thought Ferrari would have choked.
”Pretensions--pretensions!” he gasped. ”Gran Dio! Hear him!--hear the miserable scoundrel!”
”Ah, basta!” exclaimed Chevalier Mancini, scornfully--”Is that all? A mere bagatelle! Ferrari, you were wont to be more sensible! What!
quarrel with an excellent friend for the sake of a woman who happens to prefer him to you! Ma che! Women are plentiful--friends are few.”
”If,” I resumed, still methodically wiping the stains of wine from my coat and vest--”if Signor Ferrari's extraordinary display of temper is a mere outcome of natural disappointment, I am willing to excuse it. He is young and hotblooded--let him apologize, and I shall freely pardon him.”
”By my faith!” said the Duke di Marina with indignation, ”such generosity is unheard of, conte! Permit me to remark that it is altogether exceptional, after such ungentlemanly conduct.”