Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 131: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

—_— 118 JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. | reckoning by the equivalent of English money, amounted to eight hundred pounds. It was now the middle of January, 1842; and it was until the 15th of November of the same year that my pro- bationary period extended—an interval of ten months. I had therefore ample funds—thanks to the noble generosity of the Count of Livorno—for passing this period in the manner which Sir Matthew Heseltine had originally sketched forth. Deeply, deeply grateful was I to the Italian noble- man for the kindness which had thus placed me in a position of independence once more: I was that day supremely happy. I had seen the successful issue of a love-affair in which I had become more and more interested from the moment if first came to my knowledge—I found that I had been fully justified in placing confidence in Olivia’s lover since I had begun to know him well—and I my- self was rewarded for whatever succour I had ren- dered him. I proceeded to the banker on whom the cheque was drawn—had the sum duly entered in my own name—opéned a small account for my present pur- poses—and obtained a circular letter of credit available on presentation at the banking firms of all the principal cities and towns of Italy. I was resolved upon this occasion that I would not suffer myself to be again swindled by any such adven- turer as the villain Dorchester: but 1 was now rejoiced rather than otherwise that I had fallen a prey to his duplicity in Paris upwards of a twelve- month back, inasmuch as I had thus gleaned expe- rience and caution for the future. Before return- ing to the hotel, I made sundry purchases of articles which were indispensable for that position of a gentleman to which I had once more risen; and then I deliberated what course I should now adopt. I did not choose to remain as a gentleman at an hotel where I had previously been regarded as a menial: neither did I intend to continue much longer in Florence. I knew that the Count of Livorno’s good feeling, as well as that of Olivia Sackville—shortly no doubt to become his wife— would prompt them to regard and treat me as an equal: hut I appreciated all the inconvenience that would arise from such a demonstration to- wards one who had recently figured as a gentle- man’s dependent. I therefore determined, as the result of these reflections, to remove at once to another hotel, and only to remain in Florence until I saw the termination of Marco Uberti’s trial, and learnt the issue of the military expedition into the Apennines. Fortunately, on regain- ing the hotel where I had hitherto been living, I did not happen to encounter the garrulous valet attached to Lord Ringwold ; and thus I was saved the necessity of much tedious explanations. But I did meet Bessy, who had learnt everything which had taken place at the ducal palace; and who with heartfelt sincerity congratulated me on my own change of position. She informed me that Captain Raymond, on returning to the hotel, had found a letter waiting for him, which necessitated his im- mediate departure from Florence on his way back to England—and I learnt that he had already set off. I was glad to hear this, although I thought the letter was a mere pretext tv enable him to hurry away after the turn that matters had taken in respect to his love-affair: but I considered his conduct to be fraught with much delicacy and pro- | priety under the circumstances. In less than an hour I was installed in comfortable apartments at an hotel quite at the opposite extremity of Florence. On the following day the trial of Marco Uberti took place. I was present, for two reasons: in the first place, because I was anxious to see how the forms of justice were conducted in the Tuscan tribunals—and in the second place, because I wished to observe how Marco Uberti deported himself. The court was crowded to excess: mul- titudes were gathered outside: the excitement was immense. I however obtained a good seat, and stayed ‘hroughout the proceedings, which lasted from ten in the morning until six in the evening. Witness after witness appeared against him, each detailing a history of outrage and plunder sustained at the hands of the prisoner and his bandit-horde. As for the culprit himself, his. demeanour was that of a ferocious sullenness throughout: but sometimes his countenance relaxed into a grimly fierce smile at any particular salient point of the testimony adduced against him. He knew that the talisman of his safety was gone—he knew that his doom was sealed ; and as he had lived reck- lessly, so had he evidently made up his mind to die with a brutal indifference as to his fate. At length a little before six o’clock in the evening, sen- tence of death was pronounced upon him ; and when the presiding judge had finished a brief but im- pressive address, in which his doom was conveyed, Marco Uberti looked round him with an air of fierce defiance. He was conducted back to the gaol amidst the execrations of the assembled popu- lace. Three or four days afterwards some of the troops who had been despatched into the Apennines, re- turned with three prisoners—all the remainder of the banditti having contrived to escape : indeed these three prisoners were not captured at the stronghold. but were caught lurking amidst the fastnesses of the mountains: One of them was Philippo. As for Mr. Dorchester, his caye had been found deserted; and doubtless the villain had fled thence on the first receipt of the intelligence of Marco Uberti’s capture. The tower and the ad- jacent huts had been razed to the ground by the Tuscan troops—so that the dispersed gang might not after a time reconstitute its formidable head- quarters there. Another trial now took place: but I did not attend it—I had sufficient of the former one. The result was the same as in Marco Uberti’s case; namely, the condemnation of the accused to death, It soon became known that the execution of the four culprits was to take place in the great square on the fifth day after the second trial,—an appeal which the prisoners had made tu some superior court having been rejected by the judges there after a deliberation of only a very few minutes. [I at first hesitated whether I should become a spec- tator of the horrible scene: but I at length de- termined that I could witness it. It was not that I experienced what may be termed a mere morbid curiosity—much less was I desirous to gloat over the supreme fate of these wretches, even though they had twice meditated my own death: but the same feeling which had led me to attend at Marco Uberti’s trial, decided me in being present at the execution of himself and his three followers. On CORNICE OOOKSse®