Page:The International - Volume 1.djvu/165

steam engines with fear. So Phenicia preferred to intrust herself to the quiet, patient beast, and rode through the burning heat of the sun, along the highway lying between the sea and the hill slopes, which were cut by deep gullies, and covered with vineyards and orchards, above which, in the back ground now dark, now lighted by the sun, and overhung with eternal clouds of smoke, could be seen Mount Ætna, large and terrible as fate.

Phenicia returned from Messina a shade paler than she had been before. Her eyes, larger than ever, seemed to glow with some hidden fire. Indeed, they looked like live coals. The moment she entered the Corvejo palace, they sought the face of the rucified Savior, while her lips twitched convulsively, but she did not utter a word.

"My son is condemned!" exclaimed Venera, thrusting her bony fingers into her gray hair. "Do not keep me in suspense, but tell me all at once."

Phenicia sat down wearily upon the bed, as she replied:

"There has been no trial yet, and we must never give up all hope."

"Why, then, do you look like the Mater Dolorosa?" asked Venera. "What did that attorney want of you?"

Phenicia bowed her head and began to relate in a low voice: "The attorney said to me, ′Mistress Phenicia, your husband could not escape a long, long imprisonment; for many years he would eat the king's coarsest bread, on the island of Pantellarie, suffering like the souls in purgatory . . .′"

"Damn them!" hissed Venera, waving her hands wildly.

″′like the souls in purgatory,′ continued Phenicia, heedless of the interruption, ′if it were not for the otherwise sad circumstance, that for a long time, although unnoticed, he has been subject to fits of insanity, and if on that unhappy day he had not drank so hard . . .′″

Phenicia was silent for some moments, her eyes fixed upon the ground.

"What are you mumbling about?" asked Venera, indignantly. "Is that attorney of

yours a fool or a devil, that he lies and slanders people so? Archangelo has a mind as clear as the sun, and you well know that he never drinks, and did not drink on that day."

After another brief silence, Phenicia continued: "The attorney also said to me: ′Unfortunately, the court refuses to believe your husband. It argues most inhumanly, that the madness that he exhibits here is not real, but assumed. Think how wickedly-disposed people are; it is even said that he does this at my advice.′″

Phenicia again relapsed into silence; but now Venera smiled craftily; she began to comprehend what was the question at issue.

"A Solomon, a very Solomon, that attorney of yours! "she exclaimed." What more did he say?"

"′A witness was needed,′ went on Phenicia, in a voice almost inaudible. ′No one but yourself can be that important witness, Mistress Phenica. According to law, no one can compel you to testify in your husband's suit; no one can make you take the oath; but the law will admit your testimony, if you offer it of your own accord. If you wish, you will be taken under oath′ . . . thus spoke that attorney, and every word was impressed into my memory as if it were cut there with a knife."

She said no more, but remained sitting there, her eyes still fixed upon the ground.

"You will not swear—of course, you will not!" cried Venera excitedly. "You knew how to bring my son into misfortune—yes, you—do not stare at me so astonished! With you misfortune moved under our roof. How can I tell what curse may be attached to you, and why? But this much I do know, you will never save Archangelo."

Phenicia sighed. Her eyes turned away from the hard, unjust old woman and sought the face of the pale Christ, but she said no more, and Venera remained silent.

Time passed on, and in the Corvejo palace all was silent as the grave. No one was either seen or heard there except poor Carmenio, who sat at work before the portal.