Annette presently came, and, as usual, was full of alarm; to her lady’s eager enquiries of what she had heard among the servants, she replied:
“Ah, madam! nobody knows what it is all about, but old Carlo; he knows well enough, I dare say, but he is as close as his master. Some say the Signor is going out to frighten the enemy, as they call it: but where is the enemy? Then others say, he is going to take away somebody’s castle: but I am sure he has room enough in his own, without taking other people’s; and I am sure I should like it a great deal better, if there were more people to fill it.”
“Ah! you will soon have your wish, I fear,” replied Madame Montoni.
“No, madam, but such ill-looking fellows are not worth having. I mean such gallant, smart, merry fellows as Ludovico, who is always telling droll stories, to make one laugh. It was but yesterday, he told me such a humoursome tale! I can’t help laughing at it now.—Says he—”
“Well, we can dispense with the story,” said her lady.
“Ah!” continued Annette, “he sees a great way further than other people! Now he sees into all the Signor’s meaning, without knowing a word about the matter!”
“How is that?” said Madame Montoni.
“Why he says—but he made me promise not to tell, and I would not disoblige him for the world.”
“What is it he made you promise not to tell?” said her lady, sternly. “I insist upon knowing immediately—what is it he made you promise?”
“O madam,” cried Annette, “I would not tell for the universe!”
“I insist upon your telling this instant,” said Madame Montoni.
“O dear madam! I would not tell for a hundred sequins! You would not have me forswear myself madam!” exclaimed Annette.
“I will not wait another moment,” said Madame Montoni. Annette was silent.
“The Signor shall be informed of this directly,” rejoined her mistress; “he will make you discover all.”
“It is Ludovico, who has discovered,” said Annette: “but for mercy’s sake, madam, don’t tell the Signor, and you shall know all directly.” Madame Montoni said, that she would not.
“Well then, madam, Ludovico says, that the Signor, my master, is—is—that is, he only thinks so, and anybody, you know, madam, is free to think—that the Signor, my master, is—is—”
“Is what?” said her lady, impatiently.
“That the Signor, my master, is going to be—a great robber—that is—he is going to rob on his own account;—to be, (but I am sure I don’t understand what he means) to be a—captain of—robbers.”
“Art thou in thy senses, Annette?” said Madame Montoni; “or is this a trick to deceive me? Tell me, this instant, what Ludovico did say to thee;—no equivocation;—this instant.”
“Nay, madam,” cried Annette, “if this is all I am to get for having told the secret—” Her mistress thus continued to insist, and Annette to protest, till Montoni, himself, appeared, who bade the latter leave the room, and she withdrew, trembling for the fate of her story. Emily also was retiring, but her aunt desired she would stay; and Montoni had so often made her a witness of their contention, that he no longer had scruples on that account.
“I insist upon knowing this instant, Signor, what all this means:” said his wife—“what are all these armed men, whom they tell me of, gone out about?” Montoni answered her only with a look of scorn; and Emily whispered something to her. “It does not signify,” said her aunt: “I will know; and I will know, too, what the castle has been fortified for.”
“Come, come,” said Montoni, “other business brought me here. I must be trifled with no longer. I have immediate occasion for what I demand—those estates must be given up, without further contention; or I may find a way—”
“They never shall be given up,” interrupted Madame Montoni: “they never shall enable you to carry on your wild schemes;—but what are these? I will know. Do you expect the castle to be attacked? Do you expect enemies? Am I to be shut up here, to be killed in a siege?”
“Sign the writings,” said Montoni, “and you shall know more.”
“What enemy can be coming?” continued his wife. “Have you entered into the service of the state? Am I to be blocked up here to die?”
“That may possibly happen,” said Montoni, “unless you yield to my demand: for, come what may, you shall not quit the castle till then.” Madame Montoni burst into loud lamentation, which she as suddenly checked, considering, that her husband’s assertions might be only artifices, employed to extort her consent. She hinted this suspicion, and, in the next moment, told him also, that his designs were not so honourable as to serve the state, and that she believed he had only commenced a captain of banditti, to join the enemies of Venice, in plundering and laying waste the surrounding country.
Montoni looked at her for a moment with a steady and stern countenance; while Emily trembled, and his wife, for once, thought she had said too much. “You shall be removed, this night,” said he, “to the east turret: there, perhaps, you may
