Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 288: what you’re looking at

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

JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. 275 and that they had not so much as commenced the | countryman in all things. important work which brought them thither. For if the mouth of the cavern had been disturbed, re- searches would have followed by the parties in- vading the ruins, and the treasure would have been discovered: whereas not a whisper had been circulated that any stitch discovery was made at all. Then where the necessity for that fearful crime? Alas! was it that Durazzo, greedy of the precious ore, trembling with suspicion lest anybody should wrest it from him, and desperate in his tenacious clinging to this last hope that remained to him,— was it under such influences that he had stricken down the unfortunate youth whose visit to those ruins he might have dreaded? Yes, this seenied to be the only solution of the mystery: bat with- out perplexing myself with such details, I could only look upon the guilt of Durazzo and the com- plicity of his page as too certain. While I lay awake reflecting upon all these things, the thought occurred to me that if the in- telligence of Durazzo’s turpitude reached Leonora’s ears all in a momert—if when totally unprepared, the unfortunate young lady should be doomed to receive the double tidings that her aflianced hus- band was a pirate and a murderer, she would either be smitten dead upon the spot or else shriek forth her agony in the wild ravings of a maniac. What was to be done ? Would it not be perform- ing a true Christian part for me to hasten to Civita Vecchia and gradually break the awful news to Signor Portici in the first instance, so that he might use his own discretion in communicating them to his unhappy niece? But then, on the other hand, I had faithfully pledged myself to Durazzo to abstain from giving any information concerning him to the Judge and Leonora. Nevertheless, had not circumstances altered? And then too, perhaps Durazzo himself would now gratefully accept the friendly service which I felt disposed to render on the occasion. I almost made up my mind tovisit him on the ensuing day: but while I was yet bewildering myself with reflections and reasonings on the point, slumber stole upon me. When I awoke in the morning, everything I had learnt on the preceding day appeared to be the faintly lingering recollections of a horribly wild fantastic dream. But not many moments elapsed ere its reality dawned upon my convic- tions; and hastily reviewing the arguments I had held with myself on the previous evening, I de- cided upon visiting Durazzo, or at least communi- cating with him by letter, if the prison regulations would permit. On this point I thought of eon. sulting the Corsican gentleman; and my toilet being finished, I descended to the coffee-room. I found this gentleman about to sit down to breakfast ; and I joined him in my own repast at the same table. He directed my attention to a paragraph in that morning’s impression of the Ajaccio newspaper; and I read that Signor Cas- telli had been retained to conduct the defence of Durazzo and the young page. It was therefore tolerably clear that there was no design to make a confession of their guilt—or at least not on the part of Durazzo himself; and I felt pretty sure ‘that no matter how great the remorse or the mental agony of the youthful page might be, he would remain faithtully staunch to his elder fellow- a REL ee This Signor Castelli, I must observe, was the same individual who had been interesting himself so actively and so exten- sively in respect to the claimants of disputed estates, especially in the case of the Monte d’Oro property.: I represented to my Corsiean friend that being acquainted with persons who were deeply inte- rested in Durazzo, I thought it would be a friendly act to anticipate the rude tongue of public report and hasten to break to them the distressing intel- ligence of what had occurred: but I added that I did not feel disposed to behave too officiously in the matter, and that I should therefore like to obtain Durazzo’s consent; for notwithstanding the heinous crime laid to his charge, his feelings were not to be placed beyond the pale of due considera- tion—-and moreover it was a good moral maxim that every one should be considered innocent until proved guilty. The Corsican recommended me to apply to Signor Castelli—observing that he would show me the way to his office after breakfast. We set out together when the repast was ended; and as we were proceeding along the street, I beheld a gentleman advancing whom I thought I knew; and the next instant I recol- lected that it was Signor Turano who had so politely shared his luncheon with myself and the Greeks amongst the ruins of Monte d’Oro castle. He stopped and shook me by the hand—inquiring how long I had been at Ajaccio? I auswered the question, adding, “ I presume you have heard of the dreadful circumstances which have hap- pened, and in which those two Greeks whom you saw with me the other day are so deeply impli- cated ?” “ You surely cannot mean that dreadful mur- der,” said Signor Turano, with an air of astonish- ment, “of which some vague report has just reached my ears?—for I only arrived at Ajaccio late last evening.” “I do indeed allude to that shocking crime,” was my response. “ Accident had thrown me in the way of those Greeks : but you will believe me when I declare I considered it impossivle they could have been capable of such an enormity.” “I can most readily believe you,” answered Signor Turano, “because I myself am lost in asto- nishment at the thought that those two young men—one indeed a mere boy—could have done such a deed. But is it possible that they are the Greeks of whom rumour is speaking ?” “They are aceused of this crime,” I answered; “and § am sorry to add that the circumstances of the ease scarcely admit a doubt as to their guilt.” “Good heavens! can it be ?” exclaimed Turano,. “ Little as I saw of yourself and those young men on the recent occasion when we met, I was consi- derably prepossessed in their favour. I thought them both interesting and well-mannered: there appeared to be about the elder a certain chivalrous heroism of character totally forbidding the idea that beneath so promising an exterior was hidden the capacity for an assassin’s deed! Good heavens, 1 can scarcely believe it even now!” Signor Turano appeared much distressed as well as amazed at the intelligence which I had imparted to him; and he spoke in so feeling a manner that my previously conceived good opinion of him was considerably enhanced. He told me where ke was slaying—namely, at an adjacent hotel—and inyited DOOK (CO)