"Hold, my lord!" cried Flora, in a beseeching tone; "perhaps you----"

And she checked herself abruptly.

"Call me not '_my lord_,' dearest maiden," said the count; "to thee I am Francisco, as thou to me art Flora--my own beloved Flora! But wherefore didst thou stop short thus? wherefore not conclude the sentence that was half uttered? Oh, Flora--a terrible suspicion strikes me! Speak--relieve me from the cruel suspicion under which I now labor; was it my sister--my much lamented sister, who did thee that foul wrong?"

"I know not," replied Flora, weeping; "but--alas! pardon me, dear Francisco--if I suspect aught so bad of any one connected with thee--and yet Heaven knows how freely, how sincerely I forgive my enemy----" Her voice was lost in sobs; and her head drooped on her lover's breast.

"Weep not, dearest one!" exclaimed Francisco. "Let not our meeting be rendered mournful with tears. Thou knowest, perhaps, that Nisida disappeared as suddenly and as mysteriously as thou didst; but could she also have become the victim of the Carmelites? And did she, alas! perish in the ruins of the convent?"

"I am well a.s.sured that the Lady Nisida was not doomed to that fate,"

answered Flora; "for had she been consigned to the convent, as a punishment for some real offense, or on some groundless charge, she must have pa.s.sed the ordeal of the chamber of penitence, where I should have seen her. Yes, Francisco--I have heard of her mysterious disappearance, and I have shed many, many tears when I have thought of her, poor lady!

although," added the maiden in a low and plaintive tone, "I fear, Francisco, that it was indeed she who doomed me to that monastic dungeon. Doubtless, her keen perception--far more keen than in those who are blessed with the faculties which were lost to her--enabled her to penetrate the secret of that affection with which you had honored me, and in which I felt so much happiness."

"I confessed my love to Nisida," interrupted Francisco; "but it was not until your disappearance I was driven to despair, Flora. I was mad with grief, and I could not, neither did I, attempt to conceal my emotion. I told Nisida all: and well--oh! well--do I recollect the reply which she gave me, giving fond a.s.surance that my happiness would alone be consulted."

"Alas! Was there no double meaning in that a.s.surance?" asked Flora, gently. "The Lady Nisida knew well how inconsistent with your high rank--your proud fortunes--your great name, was that love which you bore for a humble and obscure girl----"

"A love which I shall not be ashamed to own in the sight of all Florence," exclaimed Francisco in an impa.s.sioned tone. "But if Nisida were the cause of that cruel outrage on thee, my Flora, we will forgive her--for she could have acted only through conscientious, though most mistaken, motives. Mistaken, indeed! for never could I have known happiness again hadst thou not been restored to me. It was to wean my mind from pondering on afflictions that goaded me to despair that I embarked in the cause of Christendom against the encroachments of Moslem power. Thinking that thou wast forever lost to me--that my sister also had become the victim of some murderous hand,--hara.s.sed by doubts the most cruel--an uncertainty the most agonizing,--I sought death on the walls of Rhodes; but the destroying angel's arrow rebounded from my corselet--his sword was broken against my shield!

"During my voyage back to Italy--after beholding the crescent planted on the walls where the Christian standard had floated for so many, many years--a storm overtook the ship; and yet the destroying angel gave me not the death I courted. This evening I once more set foot in Florence.

From my own mansion Nisida is still absent: and no tidings have been received of her. Alas! is she then lost to me forever? Without tarrying even to change my travel-soiled clothes, I set out to make inquiries concerning another whom I love--and that other is thyself! Here, thanks to a merciful Heaven, my heart has not been doomed to experience a second and equally cruel disappointment; for I have found thee at last, my Flora--and henceforth my arm shall protect thee from peril."

"How have I deserved so much kindness at thine hands?" murmured the maiden, again drooping her blushing head. "And oh! what will you think, Francisco--what will you say, when you learn that I was there--there in that cottage--with my aunt--when you called the last time to inquire if any tidings had been received of me----"

"You were there!" exclaimed Francisco, starting back in surprise not unmingled with anger; "you were there, Flora--and you knew that I was in despair concerning thee--that I would have given worlds to have heard of thy safety,--I, who thought that some fiend in human shape had sent thee to an early grave?"

"Forgive me, Francisco: forgive me!" cried Flora, bursting into tears; "but it was not my fault! On the night following the one in which the banditti stormed the convent, as I ere now detailed to your ears, I returned home to my aunt. When the excitement of our meeting was past, and when we were alone together, I threw myself at her feet, confessed all that had pa.s.sed between thee and me, and implored her advice.

"'Flora,' she said, while her tears fell upon me as I knelt, 'no happiness will come to thee, my child, from this attachment which has already plunged thee into so much misery. It is beyond all doubt certain that the relations of the count were the authors of thy imprisonment; and their persecutions would only be renewed, were they to learn that the count was made aware of your reappearance in Florence. For thy sake, then, my child, I shall suffer the impression of thy continued absence and loss to remain on the minds of those who may inquire concerning thee; and should his lordship call here again, most especially to him shall I appear stricken with grief on account of thee. His pa.s.sion, my child, is one of boyhood--evanescent, though ardent while it endures. He will soon forget thee; and when he shall have learnt to love another there will no longer be any necessity for thee to live an existence of concealment.'

"Thus spoke my aunt, dear Francisco, and I dared not gainsay her. When you came the last time. I heard your voice; I listened from my chamber door to all you said to my aunt, and I longed to fly into your arms. You went away and my heart was nearly broken. Some days afterward we learnt the strange disappearance of the Lady Nisida and then knew that you must have received a severe blow, for I was well aware how much you loved her. Two or three weeks elapsed, and then we heard that you were about to depart to the wars. Oh! how bitter were the tears that I shed, how fervent were the prayers that I offered up for your safety."

"And those prayers have been heard on high, beloved one, exclaimed Francisco, who had listened with melting heart and returning tenderness to the narrative which the maiden told so simply but so sincerely, and in the most plaintive tones of her musical voice.

"Can you forgive me now?" asked the blushing maiden, her swimming eyes bending on her lover glances eloquently expressive of hope.

"I have nothing to forgive, sweet girl," replied Francisco. "Your aunt behaved with a prudence which in justice I cannot condemn; and you acted with an obedience and submission to your venerable relative which I could not be arbitrary enough to blame. We have both endured much for each other, my Flora; but the days of our trials are pa.s.sed; and your good aunt will be convinced that in giving your young heart to me, you have not confided in one who is undeserving of so much love. Let us hasten into her presence. But one question have I yet to ask you," he added, suddenly recollecting an idea which had ere now made some impression on his mind. "You informed me how you were liberated from the convent, and you mentioned the name of the Countess of Arestino, whom circ.u.mstances had made your companion in that establishment, and to whom your aunt gave an asylum. Know you not, dearest Flora, that fame reports not well of that same Giulia of Arestino--and that a woman of tarnished reputation is no fitting a.s.sociate for an innocent and artless maiden such as thou?"

"During the period that the Lady of Arestino and myself were companions in captivity," responded Flora, with a frankness as amiable as it was convincing, "she never in the most distant manner alluded to her love for the Marquis of Orsini. When the marquis appeared in the convent, in company with the robbers, I was far too much bewildered with the pa.s.sing events, to devote a thought to what might be the nature of their connection; and even when I had more leisure for reflection, during the entire day which I pa.s.sed in the stronghold of the banditti, I saw naught in it save what I conceived to be the bond of close relationship.

I offered her ladyship an asylum at the abode of my aunt, as I should have given a home, under such circ.u.mstances, to the veriest wretch crawling on the face of the earth. But in that cottage the countess and myself have not continued in close companionship; for my aunt accidentally learnt that fame reported not well of the Lady of Arestino, and in a gentle manner she begged her to seek another home at her earliest leisure. The countess implored my venerable relative to permit her to retrain at the cottage, as her life would be in danger were she not afforded a sure and safe asylum. Moved by her earnest entreaties, my aunt a.s.sented; and the countess has almost constantly remained in her own chamber. Sometimes--but very rarely--she goes forth after dusk, and in a deep disguise; the marquis has not, however, visited the cottage since my aunt made this discovery relative to the reputation of the Lady of Arestino."

"Thanks, charming Flora, for that explanation!" cried the young count.

"Let us now hasten to thine aunt; and in her presence will I renew to thee all the vows of unalterable and honorable affection which my heart suggests, as a means of proving that I am worthy of thy love."

And, hand-in-hand, that fine young n.o.ble and that beauteous, blushing maiden proceeded to the cottage.

Two persons, concealed in an adjacent grove, had overheard every syllable of the above conversation. These were the valet Antonio, and his mother, Dame Margaretha, at whose dwelling, it will be recollected, the unfortunate Agnes had so long resided, under the protection of the late Count of Riverola.

"This is fortunate, mother!" said Antonio, when Francisco and Flora had retired from the vicinity of the grove. "You are spared the trouble of a visit to the old Signora Francatelli; and I have learned sufficient to enable me to work out all my plans alike of aggrandizement and revenge.

Let us retrace our way into the city; thou wilt return to thy home--and I shall hence straight to the Lord Count of Arestino."

CHAPTER LII.

THE GREEK PAGE--SONG OF THE GREEK PAGE--A REVELATION.

Three months had now elapsed since Ibrahim-Pasha had risen to the exalted rank of grand vizier, and had married the sister of Solyman the Magnificent. The sultan daily became more attached to him; and he, on his part, acquired influence over his imperial master. Vested with a power so nearly absolute that Solyman signed without ever perusing the hatti-sheriffs, or decrees, drawn up by Ibrahim,--and enjoying the confidence of the divan, all the members of which were devoted to his interests,--the renegade administered according to his own discretion, the affairs of that mighty empire. Avaricious, and ever intent upon the aggrandizement of his own fortunes, he acc.u.mulated vast treasures; but he also maintained a household and lived in a style unequaled by any of his predecessors in office. Having married a sister of the sultan, he was not permitted a plurality of wives;--but he purchased the most beauteous slaves for his harem, and plunged headlong into a vortex of dissipation and pleasure.

For some weeks he had manifested the most ardent and impa.s.sioned attachment toward Aischa, who, during that period, was happy in the belief that she alone possessed his heart. But the customs of the East, as well as the duties of his office, kept them so much apart, that he had no leisure to discover the graces of her mind, nor to appreciate all the powers of her naturally fine, and indeed well-cultivated intellect; so that the beauty of her person const.i.tuted the only basis on which his affection was maintained. The fervor of such a love soon cooled with satiety: and those female slaves whom he had at first procured as indispensable appendages to his rank and station, were not long in becoming the sources of new pleasure and voluptuous enjoyment. Aischa beheld his increasing indifference, and strove to bind him to her by representing all she had done for him. He listened coldly at first; but when, on several occasions, the same remonstrances were repeated, he answered angrily.

"Had it not been for my influence," she said to him one day, when the dispute had become more serious than preceding quarrels of the kind, "you might still have been an humble secretary to a Christian n.o.ble."

"Not so," replied the grand vizier; "for at the very time when I first beheld thee in the Bezestein, certain offers had been secretly conveyed to me from the reis-effendi."

"In whose service you would have lingered as a mere subordinate for long, long years," returned Aischa. "It was I who urged you on. Have I not often a.s.sured you that your image dwelt in my memory after the accident which first led to our meeting--that one of my faithful women noticed my thoughtful mood--and that when I confessed to her the truth, she stated to me that, by a singular coincidence, her own brother was employed by the reis-effendi as an agent to tempt you with the offers to which you have alluded? Then, inquiries which my slave inst.i.tuted, brought to my ears the flattering tidings that you also thought of me, and I resolved to grant you an interview. From that moment my influence hurried you on to power--and when you became the favorite of the mighty Solyman, I confessed to him that I had seen and that I loved you. His fraternal attachment to me is great--greater than to any other of his sisters, seeing that himself and I were born of the same mother, though at a long interval. Thus was it that my persuasion made him think higher and oftener of you than he would else have done--and now that you have attained the summit of glory and power, she who has helped to raise you is neglected and loved no longer."

"Cease these reproaches, Aischa," exclaimed Ibrahim, who had listened impatiently to her long address, "or I will give thee less of my company than heretofore. See that the next time I visit thee my reception may be with smiles instead of tears--with sweet words instead of reproaches."

And in this cruel manner the heartless renegade quitted his beauteous wife, leaving her plunged in the most profound affliction.

But as Ibrahim traversed the corridors leading to his own apartments, his heart smote him for the harshness and unfeeling nature of his conduct; and as one disagreeable idea, by disposing the spirits to melancholy, usually arouses others that were previously slumbering in the cells of the brain, all the turpitude of his apostasy was recalled with new force to his mind.

Repairing to a small but magnificently furnished saloon in a retired part of the palace, he dismissed the slaves who were waiting at the door, ordering them, however, to send into his presence a young Greek page who had recently entered his service. In a few minutes the youth made his appearance, and stood in a respectful att.i.tude near the door.

"Come and sit at my feet, Constantine," said the grand vizier, "and thou shalt sing to me one of those airs of thy native Greece with which thou hast occasionally delighted mine ears. I know not how it is, boy--but thy presence pleases me, and thy voice soothes my soul, when oppressed with the cares of my high office."

Joy flashed from the bright black eyes of the young Greek page as he glided noiselessly over the thick carpet, but that emotion of pleasure was instantly changed to one of deep deference.

"Proceed," said his master, "and sing me that plaintive song which is supposed to depict the woes of one of the unhappy sons of Greece."

"But may not its sentiments offend your highness?" asked the page.

"It is but a song," responded Ibrahim. "I give thee full permission to sing those verses, and I should be sorry were you to subdue aught of the impa.s.sioned feelings which they are well calculated to excite within thee."

The page turned his handsome countenance up toward the grand vizier, and commenced in melodious, liquid tones, the following song--

SONG OF THE GREEK PAGE.

"Oh, are there not beings condemned from their birth, To drag, without solace or hope o'er the earth, The burden of grief and of sorrow?

Doomed wretches who know, while they tremblingly say, 'The star of my fate appears brighter to-day,'

That it is but a brief and a mocking ray, To make darkness darker to-morrow.

"And 'tis not to the vile and base alone That unchanging grief and sorrow are known, But as oft to the pure and guileless; And he, from whose fervid and generous lip, Gush words of the kindest fellowship, Of the same pure fountain may not sip In return, but it is sad and smileless!

"Yes; such doomed mortals, alas! there be And mine is that self-same destiny; The fate of the lorn and lonely; For e'en in my childhood's early day, The comrades I sought would turn away; And of all the band, from the sportive play Was I thrust and excluded only.