THE FOOL ERRANT - World eBook Library - World Public Library

"Well?" I asked her.
"And he said that he was sure I was as good as I was good-looking, and gave your honour every satisfaction. And then he gave
me a gold piece and a salutation and was going away, when—-"
"Well, well? Let me have the whole story."
"I shall vex you—but not more than I was vexed, I assure you. No harm had been done—for you don't suppose that I wanted
his money, serving your honour. But just as he was going out what must that daughter of mischief—Scipione's sister—do but
blurt out that she had seen me with your honour not near so well dressed at the fair at Prato. The count started and looked very
much intrigued. He asked me a score of questions—artfully, you may be sure, as if to idle away the time. But I told him nothing
at all, and he presently was tired of working a dry pump. He took his leave, and that Sataness went with him. God knows what
she knows! If I come within distance of her I shall drag her tongue out of her throat, I promise you."
I told her not to trouble herself with what could not be helped. I did not see how she could be blamed, and after all the count
was my friend and a man of honour. But I relieved my feelings by bestowing upon Master Scipione one of the handsomest
drubbings his oily skin had ever received. I little knew then how richly he deserved it; but I found out before long, and then if I
could have killed him I am sure I would have done it.
CHAPTER XXV. I PREPARE FOR BLISS
I must return to the natural order of my history, and relate my first interview with Aurelia in order that I may prepare the reader
for the last. It was brought about by Father Carnesecchi, to whom I applied for it after my visit to the convent and reception of
the note of forgiveness. I had a great respect for the good man, and owed him much for his kindness to me in my hour of need,
but, as I never had the knack of concealing my feelings, I could not help showing him, I suppose, that I was aware that my
mistress had been a week in Florence without my suspecting it. If I had thought to confuse him by any such reproach— which I
had not—I should have been quickly undeceived.
Father Carnesecchi at once admitted that he had withheld, for what seemed very proper reasons, the fact of Aurelia's arrival.
"The poor little lady," he said, "when she had recovered from fatigues which (without being harsh), I must say, were not brought
upon her entirely unassisted, developed a very becoming and dutiful state of the soul. I have seldom been more hopeful of a
case of conscience. But it is a sensitive plant, the soul of a young and naturally amiable girl; rough blasts may bruise it; even
excessive nurture may cause an exuberance of growth and weaken the roots. I do not doubt your real repentance, my Francis
—Heaven forbid it me, but I confess I do gravely doubt the expediency of your assuring Donna Aurelia of it otherwise than by
a letter which I shall willingly convey to her. May I ask you now—since I stand to you in loco parentis; yes, yes, in loco parentis
—how it was that you became acquainted with the fact of her having been a week in the Sienese convent?"
I told him the truth; and if the father was vexed he was not surprised.
"Beware," he said, "of that little parasite. You have a dangerous liking for female society, as I have told you before. Of your two
intimacies, I much prefer that of Donna Aurelia for you. There, now, is a girl naturaliter Christiana—but that is characteristic of
her nation: the elect city of Mary, indeed, as the pious Gigli has observed in a large volume. Come," he said suddenly, "come,
Francis, I will take you to see Donna Aurelia this moment. There shall be no drawbacks to our mutual affection. What do you
say?"
I stammered my thanks, shed tears and kissed my director's hands. The acts of the next half-hour were done to a wild and
piercing music. I could scarcely breathe, let alone think or speak. I was swept along the streets, I achieved the portal, I
achieved the parlour. Pictures of saints, wholly Sienese, reeled from the walls: a great white crucifix dipped and dazzled. Father
Carnesecchi, after a time of shrill suspense, came in to fetch me, took me tottering up the stairs. My heart stood still; but the
door was open. I blundered in, I saw her again—her lovely childish head, her innocent smile, her melting eyes, her colour of
pale rose, her bounty, her fragrance, her exquisite, mysterious charm! Blushes made her divine; she curtseyed deeply to me; I
fell upon my knee; and Count Giraldi rose from his seat and performed a graceful salute.
67