Consuelo, p.55
Consuelo, page 55
"And you, sir?" said Joseph. "Are you not a musician? I wager you are! Devil take me if I don't think you are chapel-master to some Saxon prince!"
"Perhaps I am," replied Mayer, smiling, "and hence the sympathy which I feel for you, my children."
"If you be a chapel-master, sir," replied Consuelo, "there is too great a distance between your powers and ours—poor wandering singers that we are—to interest you much."
"There is many a wandering singer who has more talent than one might imagine," said Mayer, "and there are very great masters—even the chapel-masters of the first sovereigns in the world—who have begun in this manner. What if I were to tell you that I heard this morning on the mountain's brow, on the left bank of the Moldau, two charming voices, which performed a pretty Italian duet, accompanied with delightful and even scientific ritornellas on the violin? Well! this is what happened to me while I breakfasted this morning between nine and ten on a green slope with my friends. But when the musicians who thus delighted me descended the hill, what was my surprise to see two young people, one dressed as a peasant, the other plainer and simpler, and without much distinction in his appearance! Do not be ashamed or surprised then at the goodwill which I have displayed toward you, but do me the favor to drink to the muses, our mutual and divine patronesses."
"Sir!—maestro!" exclaimed the happy Joseph, quite won over, "let me pledge you. Oh! you are a real musician, I am certain, since you have been delighted with the talent of Signor Bertoni, my companion."
"No, you shall drink no more," said Consuelo, impatiently snatching away his glass, "nor I either," added she, turning her own down also. "We have only our voices to trust to for our support, Herr Professor, and wine spoils the voice; you should encourage us to keep sober, instead of endeavoring to intoxicate us."
"You speak reasonably," said Mayer, replacing the decanter on the table. "Yes, let us take care of the voice. It was well said. You have more prudence than your age would lead one to expect, friend Bertoni; and I am delighted to have witnessed this proof of your self-denial. You will get on well, I see, not only from your prudence, but your talents. You will succeed triumphantly, and I shall have the honor and the pleasure of contributing to your success."
Hereupon the pretended professor, throwing himself back into his chair in an easy position, and speaking with an air of the utmost sincerity and good nature, offered to bring them to Dresden, where he would procure them lessons from the celebrated Hasse, and the protection of the Queen of Poland and the electoral Princess of Saxony.
This Princess, Maria Antoinette of Austria, daughter of the Emperor Joseph I and married to Augustus III, King of Poland, had been a pupil of Porpora's. There was a rivalry existing between his master and the Saxon (as Hasse was named), for the favors of the dilettante sovereign, which was the original cause of their deep enmity. Even had Consuelo been inclined to seek preferment in the north of Germany, she certainly would not have chosen to appear at this court, where she would have been opposed to the school and the coterie which had triumphed over her master. She had heard enough from the latter in his moments of bitterness and resentment, to have little inclination in any case to follow the advice of Professor Mayer.
As to Joseph, his position was very different. Intoxicated by the good cheer, he imagined he had discovered in Herr Mayer a powerful protector and the promoter of his future fortune. He did not indeed for a moment dream of abandoning Consuelo to follow this new friend, but, excited as he was, he gave himself up to the hope of one day meeting him again. He trusted firmly in his benevolent intentions, and warmly thanked him. Then led away by his extravagant joy, he took his violin, and played completely at random. Herr Mayer, whether unwilling to annoy him by observing his false notes, or whether, as Consuelo thought, he was so indifferent a musician as not to observe them, only applauded him the more. Indeed his error with regard to her sex, though he had heard her sing, showed her clearly that he had not a very correct ear, since he had been as easily imposed upon as some village trumpeter or player on the trombone.
Herr Mayer still continued to press them to accompany him to Dresden! Joseph, though he refused, indeed appeared highly flattered at the offers, and promised so warmly to go there as soon as possible, that Consuelo was forced to undeceive Herr Mayer respecting the possibility of such an arrangement. "He cannot think of it at present," said she in a very decided tone. "You know, Joseph," she added, "that cannot be, as you have other designs in view." Herr Mayer repeated his seductive offers, and was surprised to find her unassailable, as well as Joseph, whose reason returned the moment Signor Bertoni opened his lips.
While this conversation was going on, the silent traveler, who had joined them but for a short time at supper, appeared at the door, and called Herr Mayer, who left the room with him; and Consuelo took advantage of his absence to scold Joseph for his easy credulity in listening, under the influence of wine, to the fine words of any chance companion.
"What! have I done any thing wrong, then?" said Joseph, frightened.
"No," replied she; "but it is wrong to be so intimate with strangers. By dint of staring at me they will soon perceive, or at least suspect, that I am not what I appear; although I rubbed my hands with crayons to darken them, and endeavored to keep them as much as possible under the table, it would have been easy to see how weak they were, if happily these two gentlemen had not been so absorbed, one by his bottle and the other by his talk. The most prudent thing we can now do, is to remove to some other inn, for I feel any thing but comfortable with these new acquaintances who seem to dog our steps."
"What!" said Joseph, "would you have us be so ungrateful as to leave this worthy man, and perhaps illustrious professor, without thanking or bidding him adieu? Who knows that it is not the great Hasse himself?"
"I will answer for it, he is no such thing; and if your wits had not been wool-gathering, you would have observed his miserable remarks on music. No master would thus express himself. He is at best some good-natured musician of the lowest ranks of the orchestra—a babbler, and a good deal of the sot to boot. It is plain from his countenance that he has never blown on anything but brass, and one would say from his look, that his eyes had never taken a higher flight than the footlights.
"Corno or Clarino secondo!" exclaimed Joseph, bursting into a laugh. "well, he is a pleasant fellow at any rate."
"It is more than you can say for yourself at any rate," replied Consuelo, a little out of temper. "Sober yourself, and bid good-by if you choose, but let us go."
"The rain is falling in torrents; do you hear how it dashes against the panes?"
"I hope you are not going to fall asleep on the table," said Consuelo, shaking him.
At this moment Herr Mayer returned.
"Here is a complete change in our plans," cried he, gaily. I expected to be able to sleep here, and set out in the morning for Chamb; but, behold! my friends will not permit me to proceed, alleging that my presence is necessary on some business of theirs at Passau. I must yield the point. By my faith, my children, if I might offer you a piece of advice, it is since I cannot have the pleasure of bringing you to Dresden, that you will take advantage of this opportunity. I have always two seats for you in my carriage, as these gentlemen have one of their own. Tomorrow we shall be at Passau, about thirty miles from this, and then I shall bid you farewell; you will then be near the Austrian frontier, and you can descend the Danube in boats as far as Vienna, with little expense or difficulty."
Joseph thought it an admirable proposal, as it would rest poor Consuelo. It certainly seemed a favorable opportunity, and the navigation on the Danube was an expedient which had not occurred to them. Consuelo agreed, therefore, seeing plainly besides that Joseph was incapable for that evening of taking any precautions for the security of their quarters. Once in the carriage, she had nothing to fear from the observations of her traveling companions, and Herr Mayer declared that they would arrive at Passau before daybreak. Joseph was delighted with her determination; nevertheless Consuelo experienced an indefinable repugnance to the arrangement, and the appearance of Herr Mayer's friends dissatisfied her more and more. She asked him if they also were musicians.
"All more or less," he replied drily.
They found the carriages ready, the drivers on their seats, and the servants of the inn well pleased with Herr Mayer's liberality, bustling about to serve him till the last moment. During an interval of silence, in the midst of this confusion, Consuelo heard a groan which seemed to issue from the middle of the court. She turned toward Joseph, who heard nothing, and the groan being again repeated, she felt a shudder run through her frame. However, as no one appeared to observe it, she fancied it might be some dog pining on his chain. But whatever effort she made to distract her thoughts, the unpleasant impression remained. This stifled cry, proceeding, amid the darkness, wind, and rain, from among a group of animated and indifferent persons, without her being able to ascertain precisely whether it was an imaginary noise or a human voice, struck her with terror and sadness. Her thoughts instantly reverted to Albert, and, as if she could have shared in the mysterious power with which he seemed endowed, she trembled at the idea of some danger impending over Albert or to herself.
In the meantime the carriage was already in motion. A fresh horse, still stronger than the first, drew it quickly along, while the other carriage, moving on with equal rapidity, was sometimes before and sometimes behind. Joseph chattered afresh with Herr Mayer, and Consuelo endeavored to sleep, pretending indeed to be so already, in order to furnish a pretext for her silence.
Fatigue at last overcame her sadness and disquietude, and she fell into a profound sleep. When she awoke she found that Joseph had fallen asleep also, and that Mayer was at last silent. The rain had ceased, the sky was clear, and the day commenced to dawn. The country was quite strange to Consuelo, except that she saw from time to time the summit of a chain of mountains that resembled the Böehmer Wald.
As the heaviness of sleep wore off, Consuelo remarked with surprise the position of these mountains, which should have been on her left hand, whereas they were to the right. The stars had now disappeared, and the sun, which she expected to see rise in front of her, was not yet visible. She thought that the range which she saw must be another chain than that of the Böehmer Wald, but Herr Mayer was snoring, and she dared not address the driver, who was the only one awake at the time.
The horse now slackened his pace to mount a steep ascent, and the noise of the wheels died away in the moist sand of the road. It was then that Consuelo plainly perceived the same low groan that she had already heard in the inn at Biberach. The voice seemed to come from behind; she turned around mechanically, and saw nothing but the leathern cushion against which she leaned. She imagined herself the sport of some hallucination, and her thoughts always reverting to Albert, she was certain that he was dying, and that the sounds which she heard were his last sighs. This idea so seized upon her imagination that she was very nearly fainting, and, fearing to be suffocated, she asked the driver, who had stopped to breathe his horses, to allow her to walk up the rest of the hill. He nodded assent, and, getting down himself, walked whistling behind the horses.
This man was too well-dressed to be the driver of a vehicle by profession, and as he moved Consuelo thought she saw pistols in his belt, This precaution in so wild and uninhabited a country seemed perfectly natural, and besides, the form of the carriage, which Consuelo examined as she walked beside the wheel, denoted that it carried merchandise. It was wide enough to afford space to a coffer behind, such as is generally employed to hold dispatches or valuables. But the conveyance did not seem heavily laden, since it was drawn without difficulty by one horse. But what surprised Consuelo much more was to see her shadow project before her, and, turning round, she saw that the sun had risen, and in a part of the horizon opposite to that in which it ought to have been if the vehicle had been proceeding in the direction of Passau.
"Where are we going now?" said she hastily, "we are turning our backs on Austria."
"Yes, for half an hour," he quietly replied. "We are retracing our steps because the bridge over which we had to cross is broken, and we are obliged to make a detour of a few miles to find another."
Consuelo, somewhat reassured, got into the carriage, and exchanged a few unimportant observations with Mayer, who was awake, but who soon slept again. Joseph had not moved all the time. They soon gained the summit, and Consuelo now saw before her a long, winding, and somewhat steep road, and the river of which the driver had spoken at the bottom. But as far as the eye could reach she could see no bridge, and they were still going northward. Consuelo, surprised and disturbed, could sleep no more.
A second hill soon presented itself, which the horse seemed too tired to ascend. The travelers all got down except Consuelo, who still suffered from her feet. Again the sobs struck her ear, but now so distinctly and so often repeated that she could no longer ascribe them to any trick of her imagination. The noise undoubtedly came from the back division of the carriage. She examined it attentively, and saw in the corner where Herr Mayer always sat, a little opening of leather, in the form of a wicket, which communicated with this recess. She tried to push it open but did not succeed. It had a lock, of which the key was probably in the pocket of the pretended professor.
Consuelo, at once ardent and courageous in such adventures, drew from a pocket in her dress, a sharp and strong bladed knife, which she had procured on setting out, perhaps with some vague idea of defending herself against the dangers of the road. Embracing an opportunity when her fellow-travelers, and even the driver, whose horse was now in no danger of running off, were in advance, she opened a slit in the panel with a steady hand, so as to obtain a glance at the contents of this mysterious case. But what was her surprise and terror when she saw in the narrow cell, which only received air and light from above, a man of athletic proportions, gagged, bound hand and foot, lying covered with blood, and evidently in a state of dreadful suffering and constraint! His face was livid, and he seemed at the point of death.
CHAPTER LXXII
HORROR-STRUCK, Consuelo jumped down, and, joining Joseph, pressed his arm without being observed, as a sign to draw apart from their companions. When the rest had gone on a little, she exclaimed in a low voice, "We are lost if we do not instantly fly. These people are robbers—murderers. The proof is at hand. Let us quicken our pace and make off through the fields, for they have good reasons for deceiving us as they do."
Joseph thought that some hideous dream had disturbed his companion's imagination. He scarcely understood what she said. For his own part, he felt oppressed by unusual languor, and the pains which he experienced in his stomach led him to believe that the wine he had drank must have been drugged. Assuredly he had not so far infringed on sobriety as to feel himself affected to such an extent.
"Dear signora," said he, "you have had the nightmare, and I almost imagine that I am suffering from it in listening to you. Were these honest fellows banditti, as you fancy, what could they hope to gain from seizing us?"
"I know not, but I feel terrified; and if you had seen a murdered man in yonder carriage, as I have done——"
Joseph could not help laughing, for this assertion of Consuelo's seemed like a dream.
"But don't you see," said she, earnestly, "that they are leading us to the north, while Passau and the Danube are to the south? Look where the sun is, and see what sort of a desert we are now in, in place of approaching a great city!"
The correctness of these remarks struck Joseph, and began to dissipate the dreamy security into which he had fallen.
"Well," said he, "let us go on, and if they attempt to detain us, we shall then see plainly their intentions."
"And if we cannot escape all at once, let us be cool, Joseph, do you hear? We must have our wits about us, so as to be always ready to escape in an instant."
Then she began to lean on his arm, pretending to limp worse than ever, but gaining ground notwithstanding.
But they had not advanced ten paces before they were called back by Herr Mayer, at first in mild terms, then in a sharper tone, and lastly, as they paid no attention, with oaths. Joseph looked back, and saw with terror a pistol leveled at their heads.
"They are going to kill us," said he to Consuelo, slackening his pace.
"Are we beyond pistol range?" said she coolly, pulling him on, and beginning to run.
"I do not know," said Joseph, trying to stop her. "Do not fly yet; the time is not yet come. They are going to fire.
"Halt, or you die!" exclaimed the driver, running faster than they did, and keeping them within his fire.
"Now for assurance," said Consuelo, stopping. "Do as I do, Joseph. By my faith!" she exclaimed, turning and laughing with all the self-possession of a finished actor, "if I were not so lame, you would not have had your joke for nothing."
And looking at Joseph, who was pale as death, she laughed loud and long, pointing him out to the travelers as they came up.
"He believed it all!" said she, with a gaiety perfectly acted. "Ah, my poor Beppo, I did not think you were such a coward! Do, Mr. Professor, look at Beppo; you would think he had a ball through him already!"
Consuelo spoke in the Venetian dialect, and the man with the pistol, not knowing what she said, did not venture to take any step with regard to them. Herr Mayer pretended to laugh likewise, and turning to the driver:
"What do you mean," said he, with a wink that did not escape Consuelo, "by such stupid jokes? Why did you terrify these poor children?"
"I wanted to see if they had courage," replied the man, replacing his pistol in his belt.
"Ah!" said Consuelo, "they will have a poor opinion of you, friend Beppo! For my part, I was not a bit afraid: I appeal to you, Mr. Pistol."
"You are a brave fellow," replied Herr Mayer, "and would make a famous drummer at the head of a regiment, with grape shot whistling round you."
