Penny Dreadful Multipack Vol. 1 (Illustrated. Annotated. 'Wagner The Wehr-Wolf,' 'Varney The Vampire,' 'The Mysteries of London Vol. 1' + Bonus Features) (Penny Dreadful Multipacks) (19 page)

A COMBAT—THE DESPISED AND PERSECUTED
ISRAELITE

Isaachar
 
had taken away the lamp with him
to give admission to the bandit, and the marquis had remained for a few
instants in the dark.

When the Jew reappeared, bearing
the light, Orsini’s first and natural impulse was to cast a rapid, searching
glance at the brigand captain. At the same moment this individual burst into a
loud, coarse, joyous laugh; and the marquis, to his profound surprise,
recognized in Stephano Verrina the person with whom he had twice played so
unsuccessfully at the gambling house.

“Good, my lord!” exclaimed
Verrina, flinging himself upon the ottoman which the Jew had ere now occupied;
“there is not in all Florence a man whom I would rather have encountered than
yourself.”

“You are somewhat pressing for
the trifle—the miserable trifle in which I am indebted to you, signor,” said
the marquis haughtily; “seeing that scarce two hours have elapsed since I lost
the amount at the casino.”

“Pshaw! who alluded to the
affair, save yourself?” cried Stephano. “It was for another motive——”

“Yes; and I also wished to see
Signor Stephano Verrina for another motive,” exclaimed Manuel emphatically.

“Ah! then you know me, my lord?”
said the bandit. “And yet methought I was a stranger to you, although you were
none to me at the casino.”

“You were a stranger until now,”
continued Orsini; “but Isaachar knew by the knock which you dealt so lustily on
his door, who was his visitor.”

“And your lordship was desirous
to see me?”

“Very much so. I believe you
expressed a similar wish?”

“Precisely, my lord,” returned
Stephano. “But as you hold the higher rank in the world, precedence in the way
of explanation belongs to your lordship.”

“It is rather an explanation
which I seek, than one which I have to give,” rejoined Manuel, in a cold but
resolute manner. “In a word, my business with thee is touching the diamonds of
the Duchess of Arestino.”

“And my business with your
lordship is touching the countess herself,” observed Verrina, also in a cool
and deliberate manner.

“Ah!” cried the marquis, with a
sudden start.

“Yes, my lord. But this is no
place for explanations on that head,” added Stephano, glancing toward the Jew.

“I understand you, signor; we
must confer alone,” said the marquis. “We will go out together presently; but
in the meantime, one word concerning the diamonds which the Countess of
Arestino——”

 “Employed me to procure for
her,” exclaimed Stephano, finishing the nobleman’s sentence for him. “I presume
that old Isaachar here has informed you of the particulars of my previous visit
to him this night—or rather last night, for it is now the Sabbath morning.”

“I am well informed of those
particulars, Sir Captain,” returned Manuel; “but I would fain know what has
become of the jewels which you obtained from Isaachar.”

“I might with reason question
your lordship’s right to catechise me——”

“Ah! villain—would you dare?”
exclaimed the marquis, his countenance becoming flushed with rage: for he
imagined that the robber chief was trifling with him. “Far as you are beneath
me—wide as is the gulf that separates the Marquis of Orsini from the proscribed
bravo—yet will I condescend to wreak upon thee, base-born as thou art, that
vengeance which the law has not yet been able to inflict.”

And Manuel unsheathed his weapon
with such rapidity that the polished blade of Milan steel flashed like
lightning in the glare of the lamp.

“Since this is your object, I
will bear with your humor,” muttered Stephano, starting from his seat and
drawing his heavy sword.

“My lord—good Signor Verrina—in
mercy—not here—I implore——” ejaculated the Jew, speaking in a piteous tone, and
wringing his hands in alarm at this hostile demonstration.

“Stand back!” thundered the bandit
chief; and the Jew retreated to the most remote corner of the room, where he
fell upon his knees and began to offer up prayers that no blood would be
spilt—for he was a humane and kind-hearted man.

The marquis and the captain of
banditti crossed their weapons; and the combat began. The former was lighter,
younger, and therefore, more active than his opponent; but the latter was far
more experienced in the use of his sword; and, moreover, the space was too
narrow to enable the marquis to gain any advantage from his superior agility.
The fight lasted about ten minutes, when the bandit parried a desperate thrust
that was made at him by his opponent, and at the next moment wounded the
marquis in the sword arm. The weapon fell from Manuel’s hand, and he stood at
the mercy of his conqueror.

“You are wounded, my lord—and the
blood is flowing!” cried Stephano. “Hasten, friend Isaachar—and fetch water,
bandages——”

“It is nothing—a mere scratch,”
exclaimed the marquis, tearing away with his left hand the right sleeve of his
doublet, and displaying a tolerably severe gash, which ran down the forearm
lengthwise, and from which the blood trickled on the floor. “Be kind enough to
bind it with my scarf, Signor Verrina, and let us continue in a more peaceful
manner the discourse which has been somewhat rudely interrupted.”

Isaachar, however, supplied water
in an ewer, and linen bandages; and the old man, forgetting the object of
Manuel’s predatory
 
 visit to
his abode, hastened himself to wash and bind up the wounded arm.

“Thou art a good Jew—and hast
something of the feeling of the Christian in thee,” said the marquis, when the
operation was completed.

“Didst thou ever suppose that
different creeds made different hearts, my lord?” asked the old man, in a half
melancholy, half reproachful tone.

“Isaachar, I shall not forget
this kindness on your part,” said the marquis, blushing with shame at himself,
when he reflected on the purpose for which he had sought the Jew’s dwelling.
“Heaven knows it is not in my power to reward you with gold; but whenever I may
henceforth hear your race traduced, reckon upon me as its champion.”

The old man cast a look of
gratitude upon the marquis; and, after some little hesitation, he said in a
tremulous tone, “Your lordship hinted ere now—at least methought I understood
as much—that you required gold. I take Father Abraham above to witness that I
am not so rich as ye Christians deem me to be; but—since your lordship can say
a kind word of the Jew—I—I will lend you such sum as you may need—without interest—without
bond——”

Orsini, in whose breast all
generous feeling had not been entirely crushed by the vices which had proved
his ruin, extended his left hand—for his right now hung in a sling—to the
kind-hearted Jew, exclaiming, “There is the signor to whom I am indebted,
worthy Isaachar; it is for him to say whether he will press me immediately for
the sum that I have fairly lost to him with the dice.”

“Not I!” ejaculated Stephano, in
his blunt, coarse manner. “And therefore your lordship need not lay yourself
under any obligation to the Jew, who, after all, is a worthy signor in his
way.”

“Yes,” exclaimed the marquis, “I
shall ever lie under an obligation to him; nor shall I be ashamed to proclaim
the fact in the presence of all Florence.”

“And now, my lord,” resumed
Stephano, “I will give you that explanation relative to the diamonds which you
might have had without bloodshed; but patience and aristocracy are as much at
variance as a thief and the headsman. Read this paper, my lord; it is not the
worst testimonial which I could produce in proof of good character.”

And he handed to the marquis the
document which he had compelled the Countess of Arestino to sign.

Manuel read it with astonishment.

“Then she
 
has
 
the diamonds in her possession!” he
exclaimed; “and you must have seen her since I was there!”

“My lord,” replied Stephano, as
he received back the paper, “I was at the Arestino Palace ere now, at the same
time, and in the same room, as yourself. But this is a mystery I will explain
presently. As for the diamonds—Isaachar here can tell your lordship what he has
done with the
 
real
 
stones, for those
 
 that I received from him which I
handed to her ladyship were
 
false
.”

Orsini glanced toward the Jew,
who was now pale and trembling.

“It was to make inquiries on this
point,” continued Stephano, “that I came here on the present occasion. And to
speak truly, it was also with the intention of making the old Israelite
disgorge his plunder.”

“Plunder!” repeated the Jew, in a
tone almost of indignation, in spite of the terror with which the
bandit-captain inspired him. “Did I not lend my good golden ducats upon those
diamonds? and must I be blamed, if knowing—ah! knowing too well, the base
artifices of which many of even the best-born Florentine nobles and great ladies
are capable, must I be blamed, I say, if aware of all this, I adopted a device
which the wickedness of others, and not our own, has rendered common amongst
those of our race who traffic in loans upon jewels and precious stones.”

“Isaachar speaks naught save the
pure truth,” remarked Orsini, blushing at the justice which dictated these
reproaches against the aristocracy whereof he was a member. “Signor Verrina,”
he continued, “you are a brave man—and I believe you to be a generous one.
Confirm this opinion on my part, by refraining from further molestation toward
the Jew, and thou wilt doubly render me thy debtor.”

“Be that as you will, my lord,”
grumbled the bandit-chief. “And now let us depart—for I have much to
communicate to your lordship.”

“I am ready to accompany you,”
returned the marquis, putting on his plumed hat, and settling his cloak with
his left hand.

“One word, my lord,” said
Isaachar, in his habitual nervous and trembling tone. “Should the Countess of
Arestino
 
really
 
need her diamonds—
really
 
need them, my lord—I—should
not—object—that is, my lord,” he added in a firmer voice, as if ashamed at the
hesitation with which he was expressing his readiness to do a good action, “I
will at once give them up to her, trusting to her ladyship’s honor to pay me my
moneys at her most befitting convenience.”

“Her ladyship does not require
them now!” exclaimed the bandit-chief, emphatically.

The marquis looked at Stephano
inquiringly, for there was something ominously mysterious in his words; but the
brigand stalked in a dogged manner toward the door, as if anxious to hurry the
departure so long protracted, and Manuel, having renewed the expressions of his
gratitude toward Isaachar ben Solomon, hastily followed Verrina from the house.

STEPHANO AND THE MARQUIS—THE
STRONGHOLD OF THE BANDITTI

The
 
moment Stephano and the marquis
were alone together in the open street the former related all the incidents
which had occurred at the Arestino Palace after the departure of Manuel
himself; and the young nobleman now learned, with feelings of remorse and
sorrow, that the unfortunate countess had been hurried away to the convent of
the Carmelites—that species of inquisition the gates of which so seldom opened
more than once for each new female victim.

“But you promised to save her,
signor!” he exclaimed, with enthusiastic warmth.

“I gave this pledge in the manner
described to your lordship,” returned Verrina, “and I shall not swerve from
it.”

“Think you that her liberation
can be effected?” demanded Manuel. “Remember that the convent is protected by
the highest personages in the state—that violence never will succeed in
accomplishing the object—for should an armed man dare to pass that sacred
threshold, every sbirro in Florence would fly to the spot——”

“It is, then, your lordship who
is afraid of attempting the rescue of the countess!” interrupted Stephano, in a
contemptuous tone.

“That observation is hardly fair,
Signor Verrina,” said the young nobleman; “considering that my right arm is
disabled, and that the wound was received in combat with yourself.”

“I crave your lordship’s pardon,”
exclaimed the bandit-captain. “My remark was most uncourteous—particularly to
one who has ere now given no equivocal proof of his valor. But I pretend not to
courtly manners; and such as I am you will find me faithfully devoted to your
service and that of the Lady Giulia. The attempt to rescue her will be somewhat
hazardous; it is, however, tolerably sure of success. But it can only be
undertaken on certain conditions; and these regard your lordship’s self.
Indeed, had I not so opportunely met you at the Jew’s house, I should have sent
one of my fellows to you to-morrow.”

“In what way do the conditions
that you speak of, regard myself?” inquired the marquis.

“To this extent,” returned the
robber-chief; “that you accompany me to my stronghold, wherever it may be; that
you join us in any project or plan that may be undertaken with a view to
liberate the Countess of Arestino; and that you remain with us until such
project or plan be attempted; then, whether it succeed or fail, you shall be at
liberty to take your departure.”

“Agreed!” exclaimed Manuel; “and
now permit me to ask you one question:—On what ground do you manifest this
interest in behalf of the countess and myself? You are well aware that from me
you have little to hope in the shape of reward;
 
 and that the countess will be in
no better condition than myself to recompense you, even if you succeed in
effecting her rescue.”

“I am well aware of this, my
lord,” answered Stephano; “and I will give you an explanation of my motives as
frankly as you solicit it. In the first place it suits my projects to make
friends as much as possible with nobles and great ladies; as no one can say how
or when such interest may be available to me or to those connected with me.
Secondly, I am not sorry to have an excuse for paying a visit to the Carmelite
Convent; and in case of failure, it will be as well to have a Florentine noble
amongst us. Because the statutes of our glorious Republic are somewhat unequal
in their application; thus, for instance, if a plebeian commit sacrilege, he is
punished with death; but a patrician is merely reprimanded by the judge and
mulcted in a sum which is devoted to religious purposes. In this latter case,
too, the companions of the patrician are punished only as he himself is. Now,
therefore, your lordship’s presence amongst us will be a guarantee for our
safety. Lastly, for I have another and less selfish motive, I admire the spirit
with which your lordship spends money, drinks a flagon of good wine, and loses
your thousands at dice; for saving your lordship’s presence, there is much in
all those facts which finds sympathy with my own inclinations. Thus, everything
considered, Stephano Verrina and fifty as gallant fellows as ever bore the name
of banditti, are completely at your lordship’s service, and that of the dear
lady who has the good taste to prefer a dashing roistering blade like yourself,
to a gentleman no doubt very worthy of esteem, but certainly old enough to be
her father.”

The marquis made no reply to this
tirade; but he reflected profoundly upon all that the robber-chieftain said as
they walked leisurely along through the suburb of Alla Croce, and toward the
city.

He reflected because he now saw
all the dangers that were associated with the step he was taking, the chance of
being arrested with the whole band of lawless freebooters, and the dishonor
that would attach itself to his name, were such an event to occur. But on the
other hand, Giulia was immured in consequence of her love for him; and his
naturally chivalrous disposition triumphed over selfish considerations. Could
her liberation be effected, he would fly with her into another state; and the
revenues arising from her own little patrimony which had been settled on
herself at her marriage would enable them to live comfortably, if not
affluently. And who could tell but that her husband might die intestate? and
then all his wealth would become hers by law.

Thus did he reason with himself.

“Well, my lord—you do not reply?”
exclaimed the robber-captain, impatient of the long silence which had followed
his explanations. “Are you content to abide by the conditions I ere now
proposed?”

“Perfectly content,” answered the
marquis.

He knew that it was useless to
reason with the brigand against the spoliation of the convent, which he had
more than
 
 hinted at; for it
was not likely that the robbers would incur so great a risk as that involved in
the sacrilegious invasion of the sacred establishment, unless it were with the
hope of reaping an adequate reward.

The bandit-chief and the young
nobleman had now reached the boundary of the city; but instead of entering the
streets, they turned abruptly to the right, Stephano acting as guide, and
plunged into a thick grove of evergreens.

“Here, my lord,” said Stephano,
stopping short, “you must consent to be blindfolded.”

“And wherefore?” demanded Manuel,
indignantly. “Think you that I shall betray the secrets of your dwelling,
wherever and whatever it may be?”

“I entertain no such base
suspicion,” returned Verrina. “But we banditti are governed by a code of laws
which none of us—not even I, the chief—dare violate. To the observance of this
code we are bound by an oath of so deadly—so dreadful a nature, that bold and
reckless as we are, we could not forget
 
that
. And I should alike break
our laws and depart from my oath, were I to conduct an uninitiated stranger to
our stronghold otherwise than blindfolded.”

“I offer no further opposition,
Signor Verrina,” said the marquis. “Fix on the bandage.”

Stephano tied his scarf over the
nobleman’s eyes, and then conducted him slowly through the mazes of the grove.

In this manner they proceeded for
nearly a quarter of an hour, when they stopped, and Stephano, quitting Manuel’s
hand, said in a low tone, “Stand still just where you are for a moment, while I
give the signal, and do not move a single step—for it is a dangerous
neighborhood.”

About half a minute elapsed,
during which it struck Manuel that he heard a bell ring far—far under ground.
The sound was very faint: but still he felt convinced that he did hear it, and
that it appeared to come from the bowels of the earth.

But he had not much time for
reflection; for Stephano once more took his hand, saying, “You are now about to
descend a flight of steps.”

They proceeded downward together
for some distance, when the steps ceased, and they pursued their way on a flat
surface of pavement; but the echoes of their footsteps convinced the marquis
that he was treading a subterranean cavern or passage.

Presently a huge door, sounding
as if it were made of iron, was closed behind them, and Stephano exchanged a
few words in a whisper with some one who spoke to him at that point. Then they
descended a few more steps, and at the bottom another door was banged heavily,
when they had passed its threshold,—the echoes resounding like pistol-shots
throughout the place.

For a few minutes more did they
proceed on another level-paved floor: and then the gurgling rush of a rapid
stream met the ears of the marquis.

“Be careful in following me,”
said Stephano; “for you are about to cross a narrow bridge, my lord—and one
false step is destruction.”

 Slowly they passed over the
bridge, which seemed to be a single plank of about thirty feet in length and
excessively narrow, he had no doubt, both from the caution which he had
received and the elasticity of that dangerous pathway.

On the opposite side, the
level-paved surface was continued; and at the expiration of another minute,
heavy folding-doors closed behind them.

“Take off the bandage, my lord,”
said Stephano, as he untied the knot which fastened the scarf at the back of
the young nobleman’s head.

The Marquis of Orsini gladly
availed himself of this permission; and when the bandage fell from his eyes, he
found himself in a spacious cavern, paved with marble, hung with rich tapestry,
and lighted by four chandeliers of massive silver.

Six pillars of crystal supported
the roof, and rendered the luster of the chandeliers almost insupportably
brilliant by means of reflection.

In the midst of this subterranean
apartment stood a large table, covered with flagons, empty wine flasks, and
drinking-cups; but the revelers had retired to rest—and the marquis and
Stephano were alone in that banqueting-hall.

“Follow me, my lord,” said the
bandit-captain; “and I will conduct you to a place where you will find as
dainty a couch as even a nobleman so accustomed to luxury as your lordship need
not despise.”

Thus speaking Stephano opened an
iron door at the end of the hall, and led the way along a narrow and low
corridor, lighted by lamps placed in niches at short intervals. At the end of
this corridor he knocked at another door, which was opened in a few moments by
a man who had evidently been aroused from his slumber.

“I bring a guest, Lomellino,”
said Verrina. “See that his lordship be well cared for.”

Stephano then retraced his way
along the corridor, and Lomellino closed and bolted the iron door.

But no pen can describe the
astonishment of the marquis when he found himself in a spacious room, heaped
all around with immense riches. Massive plate, splendid chandeliers, gorgeous
suits of armor and martial weapons incrusted with gold or set with precious
stones, chalices and dishes of silver, bags of money piled in heaps, an immense
quantity of jewelry spread upon shelves, and an infinite assortment of the
richest wearing apparel—all these, suddenly bursting upon the young nobleman’s
view by the light of a lamp suspended to the roof, produced an effect at once
brilliant and astounding.

When Lomellino addressed him with
a request to follow whither he should lead, it seemed as if some rude voice
were suddenly awaking him from a delicious dream—save that the cause of his
pleasure and wonder was still present. Then, ashamed at having allowed himself
to be so attracted by the spectacle of boundless wealth around him, he followed
Lomellino to an alcove at the further end of the caverned room, and
 
 the entrance of which was
covered by a purple velvet curtain, richly fringed with gold.

Within were two beds, having a
screen between them. These couches were of the most comfortable description,
and such as in those times were not usually seen elsewhere than in the
dwellings of the wealthy. Near each bed stood a toilet-table and wash-stand,
with ewers of massive silver and towels of fine linen; and to the walls hung
two large mirrors—articles of exclusive luxury at that period. The floor was
richly carpeted, and a perfumed lamp burned in front of the dial of a
water-clock.

Lomellino respectfully informed
the marquis that one division of the alcove was at his service; and Manuel was
too much wearied by the adventures of the evening not to avail himself of the
information.

The brigand seeing that he was
wounded, but without asking any questions as to the cause, proffered his aid to
divest the marquis of his upper clothing; and at length the young nobleman was
comfortably stretched in one of the voluptuous beds.

Sleep had just closed his
eyelids, and he had even already entered upon a vision of fairy enchantment,—doubtless
conjured up to his imagination by the gorgeous spectacle of the
treasure-room,—when he was startled by screams which appeared to issue from the
very wall of the alcove, at the head of his bed.

He listened—and those screams
became more and more piercing in their nature, although their tone was subdued,
as if by the existence of a thick intervening partition.

“Holy Virgin! what sounds are
those?” he exclaimed, more in pity than in fear—for they were unmistakably
female shrieks which he heard.