It was the eve of the Duke's birthday. A cabinet council had been calledin the morning, and his Highness's ministers had submitted to him therevised draft of the constitution which was to be proclaimed on themorrow.
Throughout the conference, which was brief and formal, Odo had beenconscious of a subtle change in the ministerial atmosphere. Instead ofthe current of resistance against which he had grown used to forcing hisway, he became aware of a tacit yielding to his will. Trescorre hadapparently withdrawn his opposition to the charter, and the otherministers had followed suit. To Odo's overwrought imagination there wassomething ominous in the change. He had counted on the goad ofopposition to fight off the fatal languor which he had learned to expectat such crises. Now that he found there was to be no struggle heunderstood how largely his zeal had of late depended on such factitiousincentives. He felt an irrational longing to throw himself on the otherside of the conflict, to tear in bits the paper awaiting his signature,and disown the policy which had dictated it. But the tide ofacquiescence on which he was afloat was no stagnant back-water ofindifference, but the glassy reach just above the fall of a river. Thecurrent was as swift as it was smooth, and he felt himself hurriedforward to an end he could no longer escape. He took the pen whichTrescorre handed him, and signed the constitution.
The meeting over, he summoned Gamba. He felt the need of suchencouragement as the hunchback alone could give. Fulvia's enthusiasmswere too unreal, too abstract. She lived in a region of ideals, whenceugly facts were swept out by some process of mental housewifery whichkept her world perpetually smiling and immaculate. Gamba at least fedhis convictions on facts. If his outlook was narrow it was direct: noroseate medium of fancy was interposed between his vision and the truth.
He stood listening thoughtfully while Odo poured forth his doubts.
"Your Highness may well hesitate," he said at last. "There are alwaysmore good reasons against a new state of things than for it. I am notsurprised that Count Trescorre appears to have withdrawn his opposition.
I believe he now honestly wishes your Highness to proclaim theconstitution."Odo looked up in surprise. "You do not mean that he has come to believein it?"Gamba smiled. "Probably not in your Highness's sense; but he may havefound a use of his own for it.""What do you mean?" Odo asked.
"If he does not believe it will benefit the state he may think it willinjure your Highness.""Ah--" said the Duke slowly.
There was a pause, during which he was possessed by the same shudderingreluctance to fix his mind on the facts before him as when he hadquestioned the hunchback about Momola's death. He longed to cast thewhole business aside, to be up and away from it, drawing breath in a newworld where every air was not tainted with corruption. He raised hishead with an effort.
"You think, then, that the liberals are secretly acting against me inthis matter?""I am persuaded of it, your Highness."Odo hesitated. "You have always told me," he began again, "that the loveof dominion was your brother's ruling passion. If he really believesthis movement will be popular with the people, why should he secretlyoppose it, instead of making the most of his own share in it as theminister of a popular sovereign?""For several reasons," Gamba answered promptly. "In the first place, thereforms your Highness has introduced are not of his own choosing, andTrescorre has little sympathy with any policy he has not dictated. Inthe second place, the powers and opportunities of a constitutionalminister are too restricted to satisfy his appetite for rule; andthirdly--" he paused a moment, as though doubtful how his words would bereceived-- "I suspect Trescorre of having a private score against yourHighness, which he would be glad to pay off publicly."Odo fell silent, yielding himself to a fresh current of thought.
"I know not what score he may have against me," he said at length; "butwhat injures me must injure the state, and if Trescorre has any suchmotive for withdrawing his opposition, it must be because he believesthe constitution will defeat its own ends.""He does believe that, assuredly; but he is not the only one of yourHighness's ministers that would ruin the state on the chance of findingan opportunity among the ruins.""That is as it may be," said Odo with a touch of weariness. "I have seenenough of human ambition to learn how limited and unimaginative apassion it is. If it saw farther I should fear it more. But if it isshort-sighted it sees clearly at close range; and the motive you ascribeto Trescorre would imply that he believes the constitution will be afailure.""Without doubt, your Highness. I am convinced that your ministers havedone all they could to prevent the proclamation of the charter, andfailing that, to thwart its workings if it be proclaimed. In this theyhave gone hand in hand with the clergy, and their measures have beenwell taken. But I do not believe that any state of mind produced byexternal influences can long withstand the natural drift of opinion; andyour Highness may be sure that, though the talkers and writers aremostly against you in this matter, the mass of the people are with you."Odo answered with a despairing gesture. "How can I be sure, when thepeople have no means of expressing their needs? It is like trying toguess the wants of a deaf and dumb man!"The hunchback flushed suddenly. "The people will not always be deaf anddumb," he said. "Some day they will speak.""Not in my day," said Odo wearily. "And meanwhile we blunder on, withoutever really knowing what incalculable instincts and prejudices arepitted against us. You and your party tell me the people are sick of theburdens the clergy lay on them--yet their blind devotion to the Churchis manifest at every turn, and it did not need the business of theVirgin's crown to show me how little reason and justice can availagainst such influences."Gamba replied by an impatient gesture. "As to the Virgin's crown," hesaid, "your Highness must have guessed it was one of the friars' tricks:
a last expedient to turn the people against you. I was not bred up by apriest for nothing; I know what past masters those gentry are in raisingghosts and reading portents. They know the minds of the poor folk as theherdsman knows the habits of his cattle; and for generations they haveused that knowledge to bring the people more completely under theircontrol.""And what have we to oppose to such a power?" Odo exclaimed. "We arefighting the battle of ideas against passions, of reflection againstinstinct; and you have but to look in the human heart to guess whichside will win in such a struggle. We have science and truth andcommon-sense with us, you say--yes, but the Church has love and fear andtradition, and the solidarity of nigh two thousand years of dominion."Gamba listened in respectful silence; then he replied with a faintsmile: "All that your Highness says is true; but I beg leave to relateto your Highness a tale which I read lately in an old book of yourlibrary. According to this story it appears that when the earlyChristians of Alexandria set out to destroy the pagan idols in thetemples they were seized with great dread at sight of the god Serapis;for even those that did not believe in the old gods feared them, andnone dared raise a hand against the sacred image. But suddenly a soldierwho was bolder than the rest flung his battle-axe at the figure--andwhen it broke in pieces, there rushed out nothing worse than a greatcompany of rats."...
***The Duke had promised to visit Fulvia that evening. For several days hisstate of indecision had made him find pretexts for avoiding her; but nowthat the charter was signed and he had ordered its proclamation, hecraved the contact of her unwavering faith.
He found her alone in the dusk of the convent parlour; but he had hardlycrossed the threshold before he was aware of an indefinable change inhis surroundings. She advanced with an impulsiveness out of harmony withthe usual tranquillity of their meetings, and he felt her hand trembleand burn in his. In the twilight it seemed to him that her very dresshad a warmer rustle and glimmer, that there emanated from her glance andmovements some heady fragrance of a long-past summer. He smiled to thinkthat this phantom coquetry should have risen at the summons of anacademic degree; but some deeper sense in him was stirred as by a visionof waste riches adrift on the dim seas of chance.
For a moment she sat silent, as in the days when they had been too neareach other for many words; and there was something indescribablysoothing in this dreamlike return to the past. It was he who rousedhimself first.
"How young you look!" he said, giving involuntary utterance to histhought.
"Do I?" she answered gaily. "I am glad of that, for I feelextraordinarily young tonight. Perhaps it is because I have beenthinking a great deal of the old days--of Venice and Turin--and of thehigh-road to Vercelli, for instance." She glanced at him with a smile.
"Do you know," she went on, moving to a seat at his side, and laying ahand on the arm of his chair, "that there is one secret of mine you havenever guessed in all these years?"Odo returned her smile. "What is it, I wonder?" he said.
She fixed him with bright bantering eyes. "I knew why you deserted us atVercelli." He uttered an exclamation, but she lifted a hand to his lips.
"Ah, how angry I was then--but why be angry now? It all happened so longago; and if it had not happened--who knows?--perhaps you would neverhave pitied me enough to love me as you did." She laughed softly,reminiscently, leaning back as if to let the tide of memories rippleover her. Then she raised her head suddenly, and said in a changedvoice: "Are your plans fixed for tomorrow?"Odo glanced at her in surprise. Her mind seemed to move as capriciouslyas Maria Clementina's.
"The constitution is signed," he answered, "and my ministers proclaim ittomorrow morning." He looked at her a moment, and lifted her hand to hislips. "Everything has been done according to your wishes," he said.
She drew away with a start, and he saw that she had turned pale. "No,no--not as I wish," she murmured. "It must not be because _I_ wish--"she broke off and her hand slipped from his.
"You have taught me to wish as you wish," he answered gently. "Surelyyou would not disown your pupil now?"Her agitation increased. &............