Historical fiction; Italy -- History -- Revolution of 1848 -- Fiction; War stories
'My pretty sweet! are you not tired? We have not seen one another for
days! Can you have forgotten the enthusiastic Herr Johannes? You have
been in pleasant company, no doubt; but I have been all--all alone.
Think of that! What an exceedingly fortunate chance this is! I was
smoking dolefully, and imagining anything but such a rapture.--No, no,
mademoiselle, be mannerly.' The captain blocked her passage. 'You must
not leave me while I am speaking. A good governess would have taught you
that in the nursery. I am afraid you had an inattentive governess, who
did not impress upon you the duty of recognizing friends when you meet
them! Ha! you were educated in England, I have heard. Shake hands.
It is our custom--I think a better one--to kiss on the right cheek and
the left, but we will shake hands.'
'In God's name, sir, let me go on,' Vittoria could just gather voice to
utter.
'But,' cried the delighted captain, 'you address me in the tones of a
basso profundo! It is absurd. Do you suppose that I am to be deceived
by your artifice?--rogue that you are! Don't I know you are a woman?
a sweet, an ecstatic, a darling little woman!'
He laughed. She shivered to hear the solitary echoes. There was
sunlight on the farthest Adige walls, but damp shade already filled the
East-facing hollows.
'I beg you very earnestly, to let me go on,' said Vittoria.
'With equal earnestness, I beg you to let me accompany you,' he replied.
'I mean no offence, mademoiselle; but I have sworn that I and no one but
I shall conduct you to the Castle of Sonnenberg, where you will meet the
Lenkenstein ladies, with whom I have the honour to be acquainted. You
see, you have nothing to fear if you play no foolish pranks, like a
kicking filly in the pasture.'
'If it is your pleasure,' she said gravely; but he obtruded the bow of an
arm. She drew back. Her first blank despair at sight of the trap she
had fallen into, was clearing before her natural high courage.
'My little lady! my precious prima donna! do you refuse the most trifling
aid from me? It's because I'm a German.'
'There are many noble gentlemen who are Germans,' said Vittoria.
'It 's because I'm a German; I know it is. But, don't you see, Germany
invades Italy, and keeps hold of her? Providence decrees it so--ask the
priests! You are a delicious Italian damsel, and you will take the arm
of a German.'
Vittoria raised her face. 'Do you mean that I am your prisoner?'
'You did not look braver at La Scala'; the captain bowed to her.
'Ah, I forgot,' said she; 'you saw me there. If, signore, you will do me
the favour to conduct me to the nearest inn, I will sing to you.'
'It is precisely my desire, signorina.
You are not married to that man Guidascarpi, I presume? No, no: you are
merely his . . . friend. May I have the felicity of hearing you call
me your friend? Why, you tremble! are you afraid of me?'
'To tell the truth, you talk too much to please me,' said Vittoria.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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