'He that would live in peace and rest,Must hear, and see, and say the best.'33All Piedro's neighbours did not follow this peaceable maxim; for when he and his father began to circulate the story of the treasure found in the garden, the village of Resina did not give them implicit faith. People nodded and whispered, and shrugged their shoulders; then crossed themselves anddeclared that they would not, for all the riches of Naples, change places with either Piedro or his father. Regardless, or pretending to be regardless, of these suspicions, Piedro and his father persisted in their assertions. The fishing-nets were sold, and everything in their cottage was disposed of; they left Resina, went to live at Naples, and, after a few weeks, the matter began to be almost forgotten in the village.The old gardener, Francisco's father, was one of those who endeavoured tothink the best; and all that he said upon the subject was, that he would not exchange Francisco the Honest for Piedro the Lucky; that one can't judge of the day till one sees the evening as well as the morning.34Not to leave our readers longer in suspense, we must inform them that the peasants of Resina were right in their suspicions. Piedro had never found any treasure in his father's garden, but he came by his gold in the following manner:—After he was banished from the little wood-market for stealing Rosetta's basketful of wood, after he had cheated the poor woman, who let glasses out to hire, out of the value of the glasses which he broke, and, in short, after he had entirely lost his credit with all who knew him, he roamed about the streets of Naples, reckless of what became of him.He found the truth of the proverb, 'that credit lost is like a Venice glass broken—it can't be mended again.' The few shillings which he had in his pocket supplied him with food for a few days. At last he was glad to be employed by one of the peasants who came to Naples to load their asses with manure out of the streets. They often follow very early in the morning, or during the night-time, the trace of carriages that are gone, or that are returning from the opera; and Piedro was one night at this work, when the horses of a nobleman's carriage took fright at the sudden blaze of some fireworks. The carriage was overturned near him; a lady was taken out of it, and was hurried by her attendants into a shop, where she stayed till her carriage was set to rights. She was too much alarmed for the first ten minutes after her accident to think of anything; but after some time, she perceived that she had lost a valuable diamond cross, which she had worn that night at the opera. She was uncertain where she had dropped it;the shop, the carriage, the street were searched for it in vain.Piedro saw it fall as the lady was lifted out of the carriage, seized upon it, and carried it off. Ignorant as he was of the full value of what he had stolen, he knew not how to satisfy himself as to this point, without trusting some one with the secret.After some hesitation, he determined to apply to a Jew, who, as it was whispered, was ready to buy everything that was offered to him for sale, without making anytroublesomeinquiries. It was late; he waited till the streets were cleared, and then knocked softly at the back door of the Jew's house. The person who opened the door for Piedro was his own father. Piedro started back; but his father had fast hold of him.'What brings you here?' said the father, in a low voice, a voice which expressed fear and rage mixed.'Only to ask my way—my shortest way,' stammered Piedro.'No equivocations! Tell me what brings you here at this time of the night? Iwillknow.'Piedro, who felt himself in his father's grasp, and who knew that his father would certainly search him, to find out what he had brought to sell, thought it most prudent to produce the diamond cross. His father could but just see its lustre by the light of a dim lamp which hung over their heads in the gloomy passage in which they stood.'You would have been duped, if you had gone to sell this to the Jew. It is well it has fallen into my hands. How came you by it?' Piedro answered that he had found it in the street. 'Go your ways home, then,' said the father; 'it is safe with me. Concern yourself no more about it.'Piedro was not inclined thus to relinquish his booty, and he now thought proper to vary in his account of the manner in which he found the cross. He now confessed that it had dropped from the dress of a lady, whose carriage was overturned as she was coming home from the opera, and he concluded by saying that, if his father took his prize from him without giving him his share of the profits, he would go directly to the shop where the lady stopped whilst her servants were raising the carriage, and that he would give notice of his having found the cross.Piedro's father saw that hissmartson, though scarcely sixteen years of age, was a match for him in villainy. He promised him that he should have half of whatever the Jew would give for the diamonds, and Piedro insisted upon being present at the transaction.i037The Jew, who was a man old in all the arts of villainy, contrived to cheat both his associates.We do not wish to lay open to our young readers scenes of iniquity. It is sufficient to say that the Jew, who was a manold in all the arts of villainy, contrived to cheat both his associates, and obtained the diamond cross for less than half its value. The matter was managed so that the transaction remained undiscovered. The lady who lost the cross, after making fruitless inquiries, gave up the search, and Piedro and his father rejoiced in the success of their manœuvres.It is said that 'Ill-gotten wealth is quickly spent';35and so it proved in this instance. Both father and son lived a riotous life as long as their money lasted, and it did not last many months. What his bad education began, bad company finished, and Piedro's mind was completely ruined by the associates with whom he became connected during what he called hisprosperity. When his money was at an end, these unprincipled friends began to look cold upon him, and at last plainly told him—'If you mean tolive with us, you mustlive as we do.' They lived by robbery.Piedro, though familiarised to the idea of fraud, was shocked at the thought of becoming a robber by profession. How difficult it is to stop in the career of vice! Whether Piedro had power to stop, or whether he was hurried on by his associates, we shall, for the present, leave in doubt.CHAPTER IVWeturn with pleasure from Piedro the Cunning to Francisco the Honest. Francisco continued the happy and useful course of his life. By his unremitting perseverance he improved himself rapidly under the instructions of his master and friend, Signor Camillo; his friend, we say, for the fair and open character of Francisco won, or rather earned, the friendship of this benevolent artist. The English gentleman seemed to take a pride in our hero's success and good conduct. He was not one of those patrons who think that they have done enough when they have given five guineas. His servant Arthur always considered every generous action of his master's as his own, and was particularly pleased whenever this generosity was directed towards Francisco.As for Carlo and the little Rosetta, they were the companions of all the pleasant walks which Francisco used to take in the cool of the evening, after he had been shut up all day at his work. And the old carpenter, delighted with the gratitude of his pupil, frequently repeated—'That he was proud to have given the first instructions to such agenius; and that he had always prophesied Francisco would be agreatman.' 'And a good man, papa,' said Rosetta; 'for though he has grown so great, and though he goes into palaces now, to say nothing of that place underground, where he has leave to go, yet, notwithstanding all this, he never forgets my brother Carlo and you.''That's the way to have good friends,' said the carpenter. 'And I like his way; he does more than he says. Facts are masculine, and words are feminine.'36These good friends seemed to make Francisco happier than Piedro could be made by his stolen diamonds.One morning, Francisco was sent to finish a sketch of the front of an ancient temple, amongst the ruins of Herculaneum. He had just reached the pit, and the men were about to let him down with cords, in the usual manner, when his attention was caught by the shrill sound of a scolding woman's voice. He looked, and saw at some paces distant this female fury, who stood guarding the windlass of a well, to which, with threatening gestures and most voluble menaces, she forbade all access. The peasants—men, women, and children, who had come with their pitchers to draw water at this well—were held at bay by the enraged female. Not one dared to be the first to advance; whilst she grasped with one hand the handle of the windlass, and, with the other tanned muscular arm extended, governed the populace, bidding them remember that she was padrona, or mistress of the well. They retired, in hopes of finding a more gentle padrona at some other well in the neighbourhood; and the fury, when they were out of sight, divided the long black hair which hung over her face, and, turning to one of the spectators, appealed to them in a sober voice, and asked if she was not right in what she had done. 'I, that am padrona of the well,' said she, addressing herself to Francisco, who, with great attention, was contemplating her with the eye of a painter—'I, that am padronaof the well, must in times of scarcity do strict justice, and preserve for ourselves alone the water of our well. There is scarcely enough even for ourselves. I have been obliged to make my husband lengthen the ropes every day for this week past. If things go on at this rate, there will soon be not one drop of water left in my well.''Nor in any of the wells of the neighbourhood,' added one of the workmen, who was standing by; and he mentioned several in which the water had lately suddenly decreased; and a miller affirmed that his mill had stopped for want of water.Francisco was struck by these remarks. They brought to his recollection similar facts, which he had often heard his father mention in his childhood, as having been observed previous to the last eruption of Mount Vesuvius.37He had also heard from his father, in his childhood, that it is better to trust to prudence than to fortune; and therefore, though the peasants and workmen, to whom he mentioned his fears, laughed, and said, 'That as the burning mountain had been favourable to them for so many years, they would trust to it and St. Januarius one day longer,' yet Francisco immediately gave up all thoughts of spending this day amidst the ruins of Herculaneum. After having inquired sufficiently, after having seen several wells, in which the water had evidently decreased, and after having seen the mill-wheels that were standing still for want of their usual supply, he hastened home to his father and mother, reported what he had heard and seen, and begged of them to remove, and to take what things of value they could to some distance from the dangerous spot where they now resided.Some of the inhabitants of Resina, whom he questioned, declared that they had heard strange rumbling noises underground; and a peasant and his son, who had been at work the preceding day in a vineyard, a little above the village, related that they had seen a sudden puff of smoke come out of the earth, close to them; and that they had, at the same time, heard a noise like the going off of a pistol.38The villagers listened with large eyes and open ears tothese relations; yet such was their habitual attachment to the spot they lived upon, or such the security in their own good fortune, that few of them would believe that there could be any necessity for removing. 'We'll see what will happen to-morrow; we shall be safe here one day longer,' said they.Francisco's father and mother, more prudent than the generality of their neighbours, went to the house of a relation, at some miles' distance from Vesuvius, and carried with them all their effects.In the meantime, Francisco went to the villa where his English friends resided. The villa was in a most dangerous situation, near Torre del Greco—a town that stands at the foot of Mount Vesuvius. He related all the facts that he had heard to Arthur, who, not having been, like the inhabitants of Resina, familiarised to the idea of living in the vicinity of a burning mountain and habituated to trust in St. Januarius, was sufficiently alarmed by Francisco's representations. He ran to his master's apartment, and communicated all that he had just heard. The Count de Flora and his lady, who were at this time in the house, ridiculed the fears of Arthur, and could not be prevailed upon to remove even as far as Naples. The lady was intent upon preparations for her birthday, which was to be celebrated in a few days with great magnificence at their villa; and she observed that it would be a pity to return to town before that day, and they had everything arranged for the festival. The prudent Englishman had not the gallantry to appear to be convinced by these arguments, and he left the place of danger. He left it not too soon, for the next morning exhibited a scene—a scene which we shall not attempt to describe.We refer our young readers to the account of this dreadful eruption of Mount Vesuvius, published by Sir W. Hamilton in thePhilosophical Transactions. It is sufficient here to say that, in the space of about five hours, the wretched inhabitants of Torre del Greco saw their town utterly destroyed by the streams of burning lava which poured from the mountain. The villa of Count de Flora, with some others, which were at a little distance from the town, escaped; but they were absolutely surrounded by the lava. The count and countess were obliged to fly from their house with the utmost precipitationin the night-time; and they had not time to remove any of their furniture, their plate, clothes, or jewels.A few days after the eruption, the surface of the lava became so cool that people could walk upon it, though several feet beneath the surface it was still exceedingly hot. Numbers of those who had been forced from their houses now returned to the ruins to try to save whatever they could. But these unfortunate persons frequently found their houses had been pillaged by robbers, who, in these moments of general confusion, enrich themselves with the spoils of their fellow-creatures.'Has the count abandoned his villa? and is there no one to take care of his plate and furniture? The house will certainly be ransacked before morning,' said the old carpenter to Francisco, who was at his house giving him an account of their flight. Francisco immediately went to the count's house in Naples, to warn him of his danger. The first person he saw was Arthur, who, with a face of terror, said to him, 'Do you know what has happened? It is all over with Resina!' 'All over with Resina! What, has there been a fresh eruption? Has the lava reached Resina?' 'No; but it will inevitably be blown up. There,' said Arthur, pointing to a thin figure of an Italian, who stood pale and trembling, and looking up to heaven as he crossed himself repeatedly—'There,' said Arthur, 'is a man who has left a parcel of his cursed rockets and fireworks, with I don't know how much gunpowder, in the count's house, from which we have just fled. The wind blows that way. One spark of fire, and the whole is blown up.'Francisco waited not to hear more; but instantly, without explaining his intentions to any one, set out for the count's villa, and, with a bucket of water in his hand, crossed the beds of lava with which the house was encompassed; when, reaching the hall where the rockets and gunpowder were left, he plunged them into the water, and returned with them in safety over the lava, yet warm under his feet.What was the surprise and joy of the poor firework-maker when he saw Francisco return from this dangerous expedition! He could scarcely believe his eyes, when he saw the rockets and the gunpowder all safe.i038Returned in safety over the lava, yet warm under his feet.The count, who had given up the hopes of saving hispalace, was in admiration when he heard of this instance of intrepidity, which probably saved not only his villa, but the whole village of Resina, from destruction. These fireworks had been prepared for the celebration of the countess's birthday, and were forgotten in the hurry of the night on which the inhabitants fled from Torre del Greco.'Brave young man!' said the count to Francisco, 'I thank you, and shall not limit my gratitude to thanks. You tell me that there is danger of my villa being pillaged by robbers. It is from this moment your interest as well as mine to prevent their depredations; for (trust to my liberality) a portion of all that is saved of mine shall be yours.''Bravo! bravissimo!' exclaimed one who started from a recessed window in the hall where all this passed. 'Bravo! bravissimo!' Francisco thought he knew the voice and the countenance of this man, who exclaimed with so much enthusiasm. He remembered to have seen him before, but when, or where, he could not recollect. As soon as the count left the hall, the stranger came up to Francisco. 'Is it possible,' said he, 'that you don't know me? It is scarcely a twelvemonth since I drew tears from your eyes.' 'Tears from my eyes?' repeated Francisco, smiling; 'I have shed but few tears. I have had but few misfortunes in my life.' The stranger answered him by two extempore Italian lines, which conveyed nearly the same idea that has been so well expressed by an English poet:—To each their sufferings—all are menCondemn'd alike to groan;The feeling for another's woes,Th' unfeeling for his own.'I know you now perfectly well,' cried Francisco; 'you are the Improvisatore who, one fine moonlight night last summer, told us the story of Cornaro the Turk.''The same,' said the Improvisatore; 'the same, though in a better dress, which I should not have thought would have made so much difference in your eyes, though it makes all the difference between man and man in the eyes of the stupid vulgar. My genius has broken through the clouds of misfortune of late. A few happy impromptu verses I made on the Count de Flora's fall from his horse attracted attention.The count patronises me. I am here now to learn the fate of an ode I have just composed for his lady's birthday. My ode was to have been set to music, and to have been performed at his villa near Torre del Greco, if these troubles had not intervened. Now that the mountain is quiet again, people will return to their senses. I expect to be munificently rewarded. But perhaps I detain you. Go; I shall not forget to celebrate the heroic action you have performed this day. I still amuse myself amongst the populace in my tattered garb late in the evenings, and I shall sound your praises through Naples in a poem I mean to recite on the late eruption of Mount Vesuvius. Adieu.'The Improvisatore was as good as his word. That evening, with more than his usual enthusiasm, he recited his verses to a great crowd of people in one of the public squares. Amongst the crowd were several to whom the name of Francisco was well known, and by whom he was well beloved. These were his young companions, who remembered him as a fruit-seller amongst the little merchants. They rejoiced to hear his praises, and repeated the lines with shouts of applause.'Let us pass. What is all this disturbance in the streets?' said a man, pushing his way through the crowd. A lad who held by his arm stopped suddenly on hearing the name of Francisco, which the people were repeating with so much enthusiasm.'Ha! I have found at last a story that interests you more than that of Cornaro the Turk,' cried the Improvisatore, looking in the face of the youth who had stopped so suddenly. 'You are the young man who, last summer, had liked to have tricked me out of my new hat. Promise me you won't touch it now,' said he, throwing down the hat at his feet, 'or you hear not one word I have to say. Not one word of the heroic action performed at the villa of the Count de Flora, near Torre del Greco, this morning, by Signor Francisco.''SignorFrancisco!' repeated the lad with disdain. 'Well, let us hear what you have to tell of him,' added he. 'Your hat is very safe, I promise you; I shall not touch it. What ofSignorFrancisco?''SignorFrancisco I may, without impropriety, call him,' said the Improvisatore, 'for he is likely to become rich enough to command the title from those who might not otherwise respect his merit.''Likely to become rich! how?' said the lad, whom our readers have probably before this time discovered to be Piedro. 'How, pray, is he likely to become rich enough to be a signor?''The Count de Flora has promised him a liberal portion of all the fine furniture, plate, and jewels that can be saved from his villa at Torre del Greco. Francisco is gone down hither now with some of the count's domestics to protect the valuable goods against those villainous plunderers, who robbed their fellow-creatures of what even the flames of Vesuvius would spare.''Come, we have had enough of this stuff,' cried the man whose arm Piedro held. 'Come away,' and he hurried forwards.This man was one of the villains against whom the honest orator expressed such indignation. He was one of those with whom Piedro got acquainted during the time that he was living extravagantly upon the money he gained by the sale of the stolen diamond cross. That robbery was not discovered; and hissuccess, as he called it, hardened him in guilt. He was both unwilling and unable to withdraw himself from the bad company with whom his ill-gotten wealth connected him. He did not consider that bad company leads to the gallows.39The universal confusion which followed the eruption of Mount Vesuvius was to these villains a time of rejoicing. No sooner did Piedro's companion hear of the rich furniture, plate, etc., which the imprudent orator had described as belonging to the Count de Flora's villa, than he longed to make himself master of the whole.'It is a pity,' said Piedro, 'that the count has sent Francisco with his servants down to guard it.' 'And who is this Francisco of whom you seem to stand in so much awe?' 'A boy, a young lad only, of about my own age; but I know him to be sturdily honest. The servants we might corrupt; but even the old proverb of "Angle with a silver hook,"40won't hold good with him.''And if he cannot be won by fair means, he must be conquered by foul,' said the desperate villain; 'but if we offer him rather more than the count has already promised for hisshare of the booty, of course he will consult at once his safety and his interest.''No,' said Piedro; 'that is not his nature. I know him from a child, and we'd better think of some other house for to-night's business.''None other; none but this,' cried his companion, with an oath. 'My mind is determined upon this, and you must obey your leader: recollect the fate of him who failed me yesterday.'The person to whom he alluded was one of the gang of robbers who had been assassinated by his companions for hesitating to commit some crime suggested by their leader. No tyranny is so dreadful as that which is exercised by villains over their young accomplices, who become their slaves. Piedro, who was of a cowardly nature, trembled at the threatening countenance of his captain, and promised submission.In the course of the morning, inquiries were made secretly amongst the count's servants; and the two men who were engaged to sit up at the villa that night along with Francisco were bribed to second the views of this gang of thieves. It was agreed that about midnight the robbers should be let into the house; that Francisco should be tied hand and foot, whilst they carried off their booty. 'He is a stubborn chap, though so young, I understand,' said the captain of the robbers to his men; 'but we carry poniards, and know how to use them. Piedro, you look pale. You don't require to be reminded of what I said to you when we were alone just now?'Piedro's voice failed, and some of his comrades observed that he was young and new to the business. The captain, who, from being his pretended friend during his wealthy days, had of late become his tyrant, cast a stern look at Piedro, and bid him be sure to be at the old Jew's, which was the place of meeting, in the dusk of the evening. After saying this he departed.Piedro, when he was alone, tried to collect his thoughts—all his thoughts were full of horror. 'Where am I?' said he to himself; 'what am I about? Did I understand rightly what he said about poniards? Francisco; oh, Francisco! Excellent, kind, generous Francisco! Yes, I recollect your look when you held the bunch of grapes to my lips, as I sat by the sea-shore deserted by all the world; and now, what friends have I? Robbers and——' The wordmurderershecould not utter. He again recollected what had been said about poniards, and the longer his mind fixed upon the words, and the look that accompanied them, the more he was shocked. He could not doubt that it was the serious intention of his accomplices to murder Francisco, if he should make any resistance.Piedro had at this moment no friend in the world to whom he could apply for advice or assistance. His wretched father died some weeks before this time, in a fit of intoxication. Piedro walked up and down the street, scarcely capable of thinking, much less of coming to any rational resolution.The hours passed away, the shadows of the houses lengthened under his footsteps, the evening came on, and when it grew dusk, after hesitating in great agony of mind for some time, his fear of the robbers' vengeance prevailed over every other feeling, and he went at the appointed hour to the place of meeting.The place of meeting was at the house of that Jew to whom he, several months before, sold the diamond cross. That cross which he thought himself so lucky to have stolen, and to have disposed of undetected, was, in fact, the cause of his being in his present dreadful situation. It was at the Jew's that he connected himself with this gang of robbers, to whom he was now become an absolute slave.'Oh that I dared to disobey!' said he to himself, with a deep sigh, as he knocked softly at the back door of the Jew's house. The back door opened into a narrow, unfrequented street, and some small rooms at this side of the house were set apart for the reception of guests who desired to have their business kept secret. These rooms were separated by a dark passage from the rest of the house, and numbers of people came to the shop in the front of the house, which looked into a creditable street, without knowing anything more, from the ostensible appearance of the shop, than that it was a kind of pawnbroker's, where old clothes, old iron, and all sorts of refuse goods might be disposed of conveniently.At the moment Piedro knocked at the back door, the front shop was full of customers; and the Jew's boy, whose office it was to attend to these signals, let Piedro in, told him that none of his comrades were yet come, and left him in a room by himself.He was pale and trembling, and felt a cold dew spread over him. He had a leaden image of Saint Januarius tied round his neck, which, in the midst of his wickedness, he superstitiously preserved as a sort of charm, and on this he kept his eyes stupidly fixed, as he sat alone in this gloomy place.He listened from time to time, but he heard no noise at the side of the house where he was. His accomplices did not arrive, and, in a sort of impatient terror, the attendant upon an evil conscience, he flung open the door of his cell, and groped his way through the passage which he knew led to the public shop. He longed to hear some noise, and to mix with the living. The Jew, when Piedro entered the shop, was bargaining with a poor, thin-looking man about some gunpowder.'I don't deny that it has been wet,' said the man, 'but since it was in the bucket of water, it has been carefully dried. I tell you the simple truth, that so soon after the grand eruption of Mount Vesuvius, the people of Naples will not relish fireworks. My poor little rockets, and even my Catherine-wheels, will have no effect. I am glad to part with all I have in this line of business. A few days ago I had fine things in readiness for the Countess de Flora's birthday, which was to have been celebrated at the count's villa.''Why do you fix your eyes on me, friend? What is your discourse to me?' said Piedro, who imagined that the man fixed his eyes upon him as he mentioned the name of the count's villa.'I did not know that I fixed my eyes upon you; I was thinking of my fireworks,' said the poor man, simply. 'But now that I do look at you and hear your voice, I recollect having had the pleasure of seeing you before.''When? where?' said Piedro.'A great while ago; no wonder you have forgotten me,' said the man; 'but I can recall the night to your recollection. You were in the street with me the night I let off that unlucky rocket which frightened the horses, and was the cause of overturning a lady's coach. Don't you remember the circumstance?''I have a confused recollection of some such thing,' said Piedro, in great embarrassment; and he looked suspiciously at this man, in doubt whether he was cunning, and wanted to sound him, or whether he was so simple as he appeared.'You did not, perhaps, hear, then,' continued the man 'that there was a great search made, after the overturn, for a fine diamond cross belonging to the lady in the carriage? That lady, though I did not know it till lately, was the Countess de Flora.''I know nothing of the matter,' interrupted Piedro, in great agitation. His confusion was so marked that the firework-maker could not avoid taking notice of it; and a silence of some moments ensued. The Jew, more practised in dissimulation than Piedro, endeavoured to turn the man's attention back to his rockets and his gunpowder—agreed to take the gunpowder—paid for it in haste, and was, though apparently unconcerned, eager to get rid of him. But this was not so easily done. The man's curiosity was excited, and his suspicions of Piedro were increased every moment by all the dark changes of his countenance. Piedro, overpowered with the sense of guilt, surprised at the unexpected mention of the diamond cross, and of the Count de Flora's villa, stood like one convicted, and seemed fixed to the spot, without power of motion.'I want to look at the old cambric that you said you had—that would do for making—that you could let me have cheap for artificial flowers,' said the firework-maker to the Jew; and as he spoke, his eye from time to time looked towards Piedro.Piedro felt for the leaden image of the saint, which he wore round his neck. The string which held it cracked, and broke with the pull he gave it. This slight circumstance affected his terrified and superstitious mind more than all the rest. He imagined that at this moment his fate was decided; that Saint Januarius deserted him, and that he was undone. He precipitately followed the firework-man the instant he left the shop, and seizing hold of his arm, whispered, 'I must speak to you.' 'Speak, then,' said the man, astonished. 'Not here; this way,' said he, drawing him towards the dark passage; 'what I have to say must not be overheard. You are going to the Count de Flora's, are not you?' 'I am,' said the man. He was going there to speak to the countess about some artificial flowers; but Piedro thought he was going to speak to her about the diamond cross. 'You are going to give information against me? Nay, hear me, I confess that I purloined that diamond cross; but I can do the count a great service, uponcondition that he pardons me. His villa is to be attacked this night by four well-armed men. They will set out five hours hence. I am compelled, under the threat of assassination, to accompany them; but I shall do no more. I throw myself upon the count's mercy. Hasten to him—we have no time to lose.'The poor man, who heard this confession, escaped from Piedro the moment he loosed his arm. With all possible expedition he ran to the count's palace in Naples, and related to him all that had been said by Piedro. Some of the count's servants, on whom he could most depend, were at a distant part of the city attending their mistress, but the English gentleman offered the services of his man Arthur. Arthur no sooner heard the business, and understood that Francisco was in danger, than he armed himself without saying one word, saddled his English horse, and was ready to depart before any one else had finished his exclamations and conjectures.'But we are not to set out yet,' said the servant; 'it is but four miles to Torre del Greco; the sbirri (officers of justice) are summoned—they are to go with us—we must wait for them.'They waited, much against Arthur's inclination, a considerable time for these sbirri. At length they set out, and just as they reached the villa, the flash of a pistol was seen from one of the apartments in the house. The robbers were there. This pistol was snapped by their captain at poor Francisco, who had bravely asserted that he would, as long as he had life, defend the property committed to his care. The pistol missed fire, for it was charged with some of the damaged powder which the Jew had bought that evening from the firework-maker, and which he had sold as excellent immediately afterwards to his favourite customers—the robbers who met at his house.Arthur, as soon as he perceived the flash of the piece, pressed forward through all the apartments, followed by the count's servants and the officers of justice. At the sudden appearance of so many armed men, the robbers stood dismayed. Arthur eagerly shook Francisco's hand, congratulating him upon his safety, and did not perceive, till he had given him several rough friendly shakes, that his arm was wounded, and that he was pale with the loss of blood.'It is not much—only a slight wound,' said Francisco; 'one that I should have escaped if I had been upon my guard; but the sight of a face that I little expected to see in such company took from me all presence of mind; and one of the ruffians stabbed me here in the arm, whilst I stood in stupid astonishment.''Oh! take me to prison! take me to prison—I am weary of life—I am a wretch not fit to live!' cried Piedro, holding his hands to be tied by the sbirri.The next morning Piedro was conveyed to prison; and as he passed through the streets of Naples he was met by several of those who had known him when he was a child. 'Ay,' said they, as he went by, 'his father encouraged him in cheating when he wasbut a child; and see what he is come to, now he is a man!' He was ordered to remain twelve months in solitary confinement. His captain and his accomplices were sent to the galleys, and the Jew was banished from Naples.And now, having got these villains out of the way, let us return to honest Francisco. His wound was soon healed. Arthur was no bad surgeon, for he let his patient get well as fast as he pleased; and Carlo and Rosetta nursed him with so much kindness, that he was almost sorry to find himself perfectly recovered.'Now that you are able to go out,' said Francisco's father to him, 'you must come and look at my new house, my dear son.' 'Your new house, father?' 'Yes, son, and a charming one it is, and a handsome piece of land near it—all at a safe distance, too, from Mount Vesuvius; and can you guess how I came by it?—it was given to me for having a good son.''Yes,' cried Carlo; 'the inhabitants of Resina, and several who had property near Torre del Greco, and whose houses and lives were saved by your intrepidity in carrying the materials for the fireworks and the gunpowder out of this dangerous place, went in a body to the duke, and requested that he would mention your name and these facts to the king, who, amongst the grants he has made to the sufferers by the late eruption of Mount Vesuvius, has been pleased to say that he gives this house and garden to your father, because you have saved the property and lives of many of his subjects.'The value of a handsome portion of furniture, plate, etc., in the Count de Flora's villa, was, according to the count's promise,given to him; and this money he divided between his own family and that of the good carpenter who first put a pencil into his hands. Arthur would not accept of any present from him. To Mr. Lee, the English gentleman, he offered one of his own drawings—a fruit-piece. 'I like this very well,' said Arthur, as he examined the drawing, 'but I should like this melon better if it was a little bruised. It is now three years ago since I was going to buy that bruised melon from you; you showed me your honest nature then, though you were but a boy; and I have found you the same ever since. A good beginning makes a good ending—an honest boy will make an honest man; and honesty is the best policy, as you have proved to all who wanted the proof, I hope.''Yes,' added Francisco's father, 'I think it is pretty plain that Piedro the Cunning has not managed quite so well as Francisco the Honest.'TARLTONDelightful task! to rear the tender thought,—To teach the young idea how to shoot,—To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind,—To breathe th' enlivening spirit,—and to fixThe generous purpose in the glowing breast.Thomson.Young Hardywas educated by Mr. Trueman, a very excellent master, at one of our rural Sunday schools. He was honest, obedient, active, and good-natured, hence he was esteemed by his master; and being beloved by all his companions who were good, he did not desire to be loved by the bad; nor was he at all vexed or ashamed when idle, mischievous, or dishonest boys attempted to plague or ridicule him. His friend Loveit, on the contrary, wished to be universally liked, and his highest ambition was to be thought the best-natured boy in the school—and so he was. He usually went by the name ofPoor Loveit, and everybody pitied him when he got into disgrace, which he frequently did, for, though he had a good disposition, he was often led to do things which he knew to be wrong merely because he could never have the courage to say 'No,' because he was afraid to offend the ill-natured, and could not bear to be laughed at by fools.One fine autumn evening, all the boys were permitted to go out to play in a pleasant green meadow near the school. Loveit and another boy, called Tarlton, began to play a game at battledore and shuttlecock, and a large party stood by to look on, for they were the best players at battledore and shuttlecock in the school, and this was a trial of skill between them. When they had got it up to three hundred and twenty, the game became very interesting. The arms of the combatantsgrew so tired that they could scarcely wield the battledores. The shuttlecock began to waver in the air; now it almost touched the ground, and now, to the astonishment of the spectators, mounted again high over their heads; yet the strokes became feebler and feebler; and 'Now, Loveit!' 'Now, Tarlton!' resounded on all sides. For another minute the victory was doubtful; but at length the setting sun, shining full in Loveit's face, so dazzled his eyes that he could no longer see the shuttlecock, and it fell at his feet.After the first shout for Tarlton's triumph was over, everybody exclaimed, 'Poor Loveit! he's the best-natured fellow in the world! What a pity that he did not stand with his back to the sun!''Now, I dare you all to play another game with me,' cried Tarlton, vauntingly; and as he spoke, he tossed the shuttlecock up with all his force—with so much force that it went over the hedge and dropped into a lane which went close beside the field. 'Heyday!' said Tarlton, 'what shall we do now?'The boys were strictly forbidden to go into the lane; and it was upon their promise not to break this command, that they were allowed to play in the adjoining field.No other shuttlecock was to be had, and their play was stopped. They stood on the top of the bank, peeping over the hedge. 'I see it yonder,' said Tarlton; 'I wish somebody would get it. One could get over the gate at the bottom of the field, and be back again in half a minute,' added he, looking at Loveit. 'But you know we must not go into the lane,' said Loveit, hesitatingly. 'Pugh!' said Tarlton, 'why, now, what harm could it do?' 'I don't know,' said Loveit, drumming upon his battledore; 'but——' 'You don't know, man! why, then, what are you afraid of, I ask you?' Loveit coloured, went on drumming, and again, in a lower voice, said 'he didn't know.' But upon Tarlton's repeating, in a more insolent tone, 'I ask you, man, what you're afraid of?' he suddenly left off drumming, and looking round, said, 'he was not afraid of anything that he knew of.' 'Yes, but you are,' said Hardy, coming forward. 'Am I?' said Loveit; 'of what, pray, am I afraid?' 'Of doing wrong!' 'Afraidof doing wrong!' repeated Tarlton, mimicking him, so that he made everybody laugh. 'Now, hadn't you better say afraid of being flogged?' 'No,' said Hardy, coolly, after the laugh had somewhat subsided,'I am as little afraid of being flogged as you are, Tarlton; but I meant——' 'No matter what you meant; why should you interfere with your wisdom and your meanings; nobody thought of askingyouto stir a step for us; but we asked Loveit, because he's the best fellow in the world.' 'And for that very reason you should not ask him, because you know he can't refuse you anything.' 'Indeed, though,' cried Loveit, piqued, 'thereyou're mistaken, for I could refuse if I chose it.'Hardy smiled; and Loveit, half afraid of his contempt, and half afraid of Tarlton's ridicule, stood doubtful, and again had recourse to his battledore, which he balanced most curiously upon his forefinger. 'Look at him!—now do look at him!' cried Tarlton; 'did you ever in your life see anybody look so silly!—Hardy has him quite under his thumb; he's so mortally afraid of Parson Prig, that he dare not, for the soul of him, turn either of his eyes from the tip of his nose; look how he squints!' 'I don't squint,' said Loveit, looking up, 'and nobody has me under his thumb! and what Hardy said was only for fear I should get in disgrace; he's the best friend I have.'Loveit spoke this with more than usual spirit, for both his heart and his pride were touched. 'Come along, then,' said Hardy, taking him by the arm in an affectionate manner; and he was just going, when Tarlton called after him, 'Ay, go along with its best friend, and take care it does not get into a scrape;—good-bye, Little Panado!' 'Whom do they call Little Panado?' said Loveit, turning his head hastily back. 'Never mind,' said Hardy, 'what does it signify?' 'No,' said Loveit, 'to be sure it does not signify; but one does not like to be called Little Panado; besides,' added he, after going a few steps farther, 'they'll all think it so ill-natured. I had better go back, and just tell them that I'm very sorry I can't get their shuttlecock;—do come back with me.' 'No,' said Hardy, 'I can't go back; and you'd better not.' 'But, I assure you, I won't stay a minute; wait for me,' added Loveit; and he slunk back again to prove that he was not Little Panado.Once returned, the rest followed, of course; for to support his character of good nature he was obliged to yield to the entreaties of his companions, and, to show his spirit, leapt over the gate, amidst the acclamations of the little mob:—he was quickly out of sight.'Here,' cried he, returning in about five minutes, quite out of breath, 'I've got the shuttlecock; and I'll tell you what I've seen,' cried he, panting for breath. 'What?' cried everybody, eagerly. 'Why, just at the turn of the corner, at the end of the lane'—panting. 'Well,' said Tarlton, impatiently, 'do go on.' 'Let me just take breath first.' 'Pugh—never mind your breath.' 'Well, then, just at the turn of the corner, at the end of the lane, as I was looking about for the shuttlecock, I heard a great rustling somewhere near me, and so I looked where it could come from; and I saw, in a nice little garden, on the opposite side of the way, a boy, about as big as Tarlton, sitting in a great tree, shaking the branches; so I called to the boy, to beg one; but he said he could not give me one, for that they were his grandfather's; and just at that minute, from behind a gooseberry bush, up popped the uncle; the grandfather poked his head out of the window; so I ran off as fast as my legs would carry me, though I heard him bawling after me all the way.''And let him bawl,' cried Tarlton; 'he shan't bawl for nothing; I'm determined we'll have some of his fine large rosy apples before I sleep to-night.'At this speech a general silence ensued; everybody kept his eyes fixed upon Tarlton, except Loveit, who looked down, apprehensive that he should be drawn on much farther than he intended. 'Oh, indeed!' said he to himself, 'as Hardy told me, I had better not have come back!'Regardless of this confusion, Tarlton continued, 'But before I say any more, I hope we have no spies amongst us. If there is any one of you afraid to be flogged, let him march off this instant!'Loveit coloured, bit his lips, wished to go, but had not the courage to move first. He waited to see what everybody else would do: nobody stirred; so Loveit stood still.'Well, then,' cried Tarlton, giving his hand to the boy next him, then to the next, 'your word and honour that you won't betray me; but stand by me, and I'll stand by you.' Each boy gave his hand and his promise, repeating, 'Stand by me, and I'll stand by you.'Loveit hung back till the last; and had almost twisted off the button of the boy's coat who screened him, when Tarlton came up, holding out his hand, 'Come, Loveit, lad, you're in forit: stand by me, and I'll stand by you.' 'Indeed, Tarlton,' expostulated he, without looking him in the face, 'I do wish you'd give up this scheme; I daresay all the apples are gone by this time; I wish you would. Do, pray, give up this scheme.' 'What scheme, man? you haven't heard it yet; you may as well know your text before you begin preaching.'The corners of Loveit's mouth could not refuse to smile, though in his heart he felt not the slightest inclination to laugh.'Why, I don't know you, I declare I don't know you to-day,' said Tarlton; 'you used to be the best-natured, most agreeable lad in the world, and would do anything one asked you; but you're quite altered of late, as we were saying just now, when you skulked away with Hardy; come,—do, man, pluck up a little spirit, and be one of us, or you'll make us allhate you.' 'Hateme!' repeated Loveit, with terror; 'no, surely, you won't allhateme!' and he mechanically stretched out his hand, which Tarlton shook violently, saying, 'Ay, now, that's right.' 'Ay, now, that's wrong!' whispered Loveit's conscience; but his conscience was of no use to him, for it was always overpowered by the voice of numbers; and though he had the wish, he never had the power, to do right. 'Poor Loveit! I knew he would not refuse us,' cried his companions; and even Tarlton, the moment he shook hands with him, despised him. It is certain that weakness of mind is despised both by the good and the bad.The league being thus formed, Tarlton assumed all the airs of commander, explained his schemes, and laid the plan of attack upon the poor old man's apple-tree. It was the only one he had in the world. We shall not dwell upon their consultation; for the amusement of contriving such expeditions is often the chief thing which induces idle boys to engage in them.There was a small window at the end of the back staircase, through which, between nine and ten o'clock at night, Tarlton, accompanied by Loveit and another boy, crept out. It was a moonlight night, and after crossing the field, and climbing the gate, directed by Loveit, who now resolved to go through the affair with spirit, they proceeded down the lane with rash yet fearful steps.At a distance Loveit saw the whitewashed cottage, andthe apple-tree beside it. They quickened their pace, and with some difficulty scrambled through the hedge which fenced the garden, though not without being scratched and torn by the briers. Everything was silent. Yet now and then, at every rustling of the leaves, they started, and their hearts beat violently. Once, as Loveit was climbing the apple-tree, he thought he heard a door in the cottage open, and earnestly begged his companions to desist and return home. This, however, he could by no means persuade them to do, until they had filled their pockets with apples; then, to his great joy, they returned, crept in at the staircase window, and each retired, as softly as possible, to his own apartment.Loveit slept in the room with Hardy, whom he had left fast asleep, and whom he now was extremely afraid of awakening. All the apples were emptied out of Loveit's pockets, and lodged with Tarlton till the morning, for fear the smell should betray the secret to Hardy. The room door was apt to creak, but it was opened with such precaution that no noise could be heard, and Loveit found his friend as fast asleep as when he left him.'Ah,' said he to himself, 'how quietly he sleeps! I wish I had been sleeping too.' The reproaches of Loveit's conscience, however, served no other purpose but to torment him; he had not sufficient strength of mind to be good. The very next night, in spite of all his fears, and all his penitence, and all his resolutions, by a little fresh ridicule and persuasion he was induced to accompany the same party on a similar expedition. We must observe that the necessity for continuing their depredations became stronger the third day; for, though at first only a small party had been in the secret, by degrees it was divulged to the whole school; and it was necessary to secure secrecy by sharing the booty.Every one was astonished that Hardy, with all his quickness and penetration, had not yet discovered their proceedings; but Loveit could not help suspecting that he was not quite so ignorant as he appeared to be. Loveit had strictly kept his promise of secrecy; but he was by no means an artful boy; and in talking to his friend, conscious that he had something to conceal, he was perpetually on the point of betraying himself; then, recollecting his engagement, he blushed, stammered, bungled; and upon Hardy's asking what he meant, wouldanswer with a silly, guilty countenance that he did not know; or abruptly break off, saying, 'Oh, nothing! nothing at all!'It was in vain that he urged Tarlton to permit him to consult his friend. A gloom overspread Tarlton's brow when he began to speak on the subject, and he always returned a peremptory refusal, accompanied with some such taunting expression as this—'I wish we had nothing to do with such a sneaking fellow; he'll betray us all, I see, before we have done with him.' 'Well,' said Loveit to himself, 'so I am abused after all, and called a sneaking fellow for my pains; that's rather hard, to be sure, when I've got so little by the job.'In truth he had not got much; for in the division of the booty only one apple, and half of another which was only half ripe, happened to fall to his share; though, to be sure, when they had all eaten their apples, he had the satisfaction to hear everybody declare they were very sorry they had forgotten to offer some of theirs to 'poor Loveit.'In the meantime, the visits to the apple-tree had been now too frequently repeated to remain concealed from the old man who lived in the cottage. He used to examine his only tree very frequently, and missing numbers of rosy apples, which he had watched ripening, he, though not prone to suspicion, began to think that there was something going wrong; especially as a gap was made in his hedge, and there were several small footsteps in his flower-beds.The good old man was not at all inclined to give pain to any living creature, much less to children, of whom he was particularly fond. Nor was he in the least avaricious, for though he was not rich, he had enough to live upon, because he had been very industrious in his youth; and he was always very ready to part with the little he had. Nor was he a cross old man. If anything would have made him angry, it would have been the seeing his favourite tree robbed, as he had promised himself the pleasure of giving his red apples to his grandchildren on his birthday. However, he looked up at the tree in sorrow rather than in anger, and leaning upon his staff, he began to consider what he had best do.'If I complain to their master,' said he to himself, 'they will certainly be flogged, and that I should be sorry for; yet they must not be let to go on stealing; that would be worsestill, for it would surely bring them to the gallows in the end. Let me see—oh, ay, that will do; I will borrow farmer Kent's dog Barker, he'll keep them off, I'll answer for it.'Farmer Kent lent his dog Barker, cautioning his neighbour, at the same time, to be sure to chain him well, for he was the fiercest mastiff in England. The old man, with farmer Kent's assistance, chained him fast to the trunk of the apple-tree.Night came; and Tarlton, Loveit, and his companions returned at the usual hour. Grown bolder now by frequent success, they came on talking and laughing. But the moment they had set their foot in the garden, the dog started up; and, shaking his chain as he sprang forward, barked with unremitting fury. They stood still as if fixed to the spot. There was just moonlight enough to see the dog. 'Let us try the other side of the tree,' said Tarlton. But to whichever side they turned, the dog flew round in an instant, barking with increased fury.'He'll break his chain and tear us to pieces,' cried Tarlton; and, struck with terror, he immediately threw down the basket he had brought with him, and betook himself to flight, with the greatest precipitation. 'Help me! oh, pray, help me! I can't get through the hedge,' cried Loveit, in a lamentable tone, whilst the dog growled hideously, and sprang forward to the extremity of his chain. 'I can't get out! Oh, for God's sake, stay for me one minute, dear Tarlton!' He called in vain; he was left to struggle through his difficulties by himself; and of all his dear friends not one turned back to help him. At last, torn and terrified, he got through the hedge and ran home, despising his companions for their selfishness. Nor could he help observing that Tarlton, with all his vaunted prowess, was the first to run away from the appearance of danger.The next morning Loveit could not help reproaching the party with their conduct. 'Why could not you, any of you, stay one minute to help me?' said he. 'We did not hear you call,' answered one. 'I was so frightened,' said another, 'I would not have turned back for the whole world.' 'And you, Tarlton?' 'I,' said Tarlton; 'had not I enough to do to take care of myself, you blockhead? Every one for himself in this world!' 'So I see,' said Loveit, gravely. 'Well, man! is there anything strange in that?' 'Strange! why, yes; Ithought you all loved me!' 'Lord love you, lad! so we do; but we love ourselves better.' 'Hardy would not have served me so, however,' said Loveit, turning away in disgust. Tarlton was alarmed. 'Pugh!' said he; 'what nonsense have you taken into your brain? Think no more about it. We are all very sorry, and beg your pardon; come, shake hands,—forgive and forget.'Loveit gave his hand, but gave it rather coldly. 'I forgive it with all my heart,' said he; 'but I cannot forget it so soon!' 'Why, then, you are not such a good-humoured fellow as we thought you were. Surely you cannot bear malice, Loveit.' Loveit smiled, and allowed that he certainly could not bear malice. 'Well, then, come; you know at the bottom we all love you, and would do anything in the world for you.' Poor Loveit, flattered in his foible, began to believe that they did love him at the bottom, as they said, and even with his eyes open consented again to be duped.'How strange it is,' thought he, 'that I should set such value upon the love of those I despise! When I'm once out of this scrape, I'll have no more to do with them, I'm determined.'Compared with his friend Hardy, his new associates did indeed appear contemptible; for all this time Hardy had treated him with uniform kindness, avoided to pry into his secrets, yet seemed ready to receive his confidence, if it had been offered.After school in the evening, as he was standing silently beside Hardy, who was ruling a sheet of paper for him, Tarlton, in his brutal manner, came up, and seizing him by the arm, cried, 'Come along with me, Loveit, I've something to say to you.' 'I can't come now,' said Loveit, drawing away his arm. 'Ah, do come now,' said Tarlton, in a voice of persuasion. 'Well, I'll come presently.' 'Nay, but do, pray; there's a good fellow, come now, because I've something to say to you.' 'What is it you've got to say to me? I wish you'd let me alone,' said Loveit; yet at the same time he suffered himself to be led away.Tarlton took particular pains to humour him and bring him into temper again; and even, though he was not very apt to part with his playthings, went so far as to say, 'Loveit, the other day you wanted a top; I'll give you mine if you desireit.' Loveit thanked him, and was overjoyed at the thoughts of possessing this top. 'But what did you want to say to me just now?' 'Ay, we'll talk of that presently; not yet—when we get out of hearing.' 'Nobody is near us,' said Loveit. 'Come a little farther, however,' said Tarlton, looking round suspiciously. 'Well now, well?' 'You know the dog that frightened us so last night?' 'Yes.' 'It will never frighten us again.' 'Won't it? how so?' 'Look here,' said Tarlton, drawing something from his pocket wrapped in a blue handkerchief. 'What's that?' Tarlton opened it. 'Raw meat!' exclaimed Loveit. 'How came you by it?' 'Tom, the servant boy, Tom got it for me, and I'm to give him sixpence.' 'And is it for the dog?' 'Yes, I vowed I'd be revenged on him, and after this he'll never bark again.' 'Never bark again! What do you mean? Is it poison?' exclaimed Loveit, starting back with horror. 'Only poison fora dog;' said Tarlton, confused; 'you could not look more shocked if it was poison for a Christian.'Loveit stood for nearly a minute in profound silence. 'Tarlton,' said he at last, in a changed tone and altered manner, 'I did not know you; I will have no more to do with you.' 'Nay, but stay,' said Tarlton, catching hold of his arm, 'stay; I was only joking.' 'Let go my arm—you were in earnest.' 'But then that was before I knew there was any harm. If you think there's any harm?' 'If,' said Loveit. 'Why, you know, I might not know; for Tom told me it's a thing that's often done. Ask Tom.' 'I'll ask nobody! Surely we know better what's right and wrong than Tom does.' 'But only just ask him, to hear what he'll say.' 'I don't want to hear what he'll say,' cried Loveit, vehemently; 'the dog will die in agonies—in agonies! There was a dog poisoned at my father's—I saw him in the yard. Poor creature! He lay and howled and writhed himself!' 'Poor creature! Well, there's no harm done now,' cried Tarlton, in a hypocritical tone. But though he thought fit to dissemble with Loveit, he was thoroughly determined in his purpose.Poor Loveit, in haste to get away, returned to his friend Hardy; but his mind was in such agitation, that he neither talked nor moved like himself; and two or three times his heart was so full that he was ready to burst into tears.
'He that would live in peace and rest,Must hear, and see, and say the best.'33
'He that would live in peace and rest,Must hear, and see, and say the best.'33
All Piedro's neighbours did not follow this peaceable maxim; for when he and his father began to circulate the story of the treasure found in the garden, the village of Resina did not give them implicit faith. People nodded and whispered, and shrugged their shoulders; then crossed themselves anddeclared that they would not, for all the riches of Naples, change places with either Piedro or his father. Regardless, or pretending to be regardless, of these suspicions, Piedro and his father persisted in their assertions. The fishing-nets were sold, and everything in their cottage was disposed of; they left Resina, went to live at Naples, and, after a few weeks, the matter began to be almost forgotten in the village.
The old gardener, Francisco's father, was one of those who endeavoured tothink the best; and all that he said upon the subject was, that he would not exchange Francisco the Honest for Piedro the Lucky; that one can't judge of the day till one sees the evening as well as the morning.34
Not to leave our readers longer in suspense, we must inform them that the peasants of Resina were right in their suspicions. Piedro had never found any treasure in his father's garden, but he came by his gold in the following manner:—
After he was banished from the little wood-market for stealing Rosetta's basketful of wood, after he had cheated the poor woman, who let glasses out to hire, out of the value of the glasses which he broke, and, in short, after he had entirely lost his credit with all who knew him, he roamed about the streets of Naples, reckless of what became of him.
He found the truth of the proverb, 'that credit lost is like a Venice glass broken—it can't be mended again.' The few shillings which he had in his pocket supplied him with food for a few days. At last he was glad to be employed by one of the peasants who came to Naples to load their asses with manure out of the streets. They often follow very early in the morning, or during the night-time, the trace of carriages that are gone, or that are returning from the opera; and Piedro was one night at this work, when the horses of a nobleman's carriage took fright at the sudden blaze of some fireworks. The carriage was overturned near him; a lady was taken out of it, and was hurried by her attendants into a shop, where she stayed till her carriage was set to rights. She was too much alarmed for the first ten minutes after her accident to think of anything; but after some time, she perceived that she had lost a valuable diamond cross, which she had worn that night at the opera. She was uncertain where she had dropped it;the shop, the carriage, the street were searched for it in vain.
Piedro saw it fall as the lady was lifted out of the carriage, seized upon it, and carried it off. Ignorant as he was of the full value of what he had stolen, he knew not how to satisfy himself as to this point, without trusting some one with the secret.
After some hesitation, he determined to apply to a Jew, who, as it was whispered, was ready to buy everything that was offered to him for sale, without making anytroublesomeinquiries. It was late; he waited till the streets were cleared, and then knocked softly at the back door of the Jew's house. The person who opened the door for Piedro was his own father. Piedro started back; but his father had fast hold of him.
'What brings you here?' said the father, in a low voice, a voice which expressed fear and rage mixed.
'Only to ask my way—my shortest way,' stammered Piedro.
'No equivocations! Tell me what brings you here at this time of the night? Iwillknow.'
Piedro, who felt himself in his father's grasp, and who knew that his father would certainly search him, to find out what he had brought to sell, thought it most prudent to produce the diamond cross. His father could but just see its lustre by the light of a dim lamp which hung over their heads in the gloomy passage in which they stood.
'You would have been duped, if you had gone to sell this to the Jew. It is well it has fallen into my hands. How came you by it?' Piedro answered that he had found it in the street. 'Go your ways home, then,' said the father; 'it is safe with me. Concern yourself no more about it.'
Piedro was not inclined thus to relinquish his booty, and he now thought proper to vary in his account of the manner in which he found the cross. He now confessed that it had dropped from the dress of a lady, whose carriage was overturned as she was coming home from the opera, and he concluded by saying that, if his father took his prize from him without giving him his share of the profits, he would go directly to the shop where the lady stopped whilst her servants were raising the carriage, and that he would give notice of his having found the cross.
Piedro's father saw that hissmartson, though scarcely sixteen years of age, was a match for him in villainy. He promised him that he should have half of whatever the Jew would give for the diamonds, and Piedro insisted upon being present at the transaction.
i037The Jew, who was a man old in all the arts of villainy, contrived to cheat both his associates.
The Jew, who was a man old in all the arts of villainy, contrived to cheat both his associates.
We do not wish to lay open to our young readers scenes of iniquity. It is sufficient to say that the Jew, who was a manold in all the arts of villainy, contrived to cheat both his associates, and obtained the diamond cross for less than half its value. The matter was managed so that the transaction remained undiscovered. The lady who lost the cross, after making fruitless inquiries, gave up the search, and Piedro and his father rejoiced in the success of their manœuvres.
It is said that 'Ill-gotten wealth is quickly spent';35and so it proved in this instance. Both father and son lived a riotous life as long as their money lasted, and it did not last many months. What his bad education began, bad company finished, and Piedro's mind was completely ruined by the associates with whom he became connected during what he called hisprosperity. When his money was at an end, these unprincipled friends began to look cold upon him, and at last plainly told him—'If you mean tolive with us, you mustlive as we do.' They lived by robbery.
Piedro, though familiarised to the idea of fraud, was shocked at the thought of becoming a robber by profession. How difficult it is to stop in the career of vice! Whether Piedro had power to stop, or whether he was hurried on by his associates, we shall, for the present, leave in doubt.
Weturn with pleasure from Piedro the Cunning to Francisco the Honest. Francisco continued the happy and useful course of his life. By his unremitting perseverance he improved himself rapidly under the instructions of his master and friend, Signor Camillo; his friend, we say, for the fair and open character of Francisco won, or rather earned, the friendship of this benevolent artist. The English gentleman seemed to take a pride in our hero's success and good conduct. He was not one of those patrons who think that they have done enough when they have given five guineas. His servant Arthur always considered every generous action of his master's as his own, and was particularly pleased whenever this generosity was directed towards Francisco.
As for Carlo and the little Rosetta, they were the companions of all the pleasant walks which Francisco used to take in the cool of the evening, after he had been shut up all day at his work. And the old carpenter, delighted with the gratitude of his pupil, frequently repeated—'That he was proud to have given the first instructions to such agenius; and that he had always prophesied Francisco would be agreatman.' 'And a good man, papa,' said Rosetta; 'for though he has grown so great, and though he goes into palaces now, to say nothing of that place underground, where he has leave to go, yet, notwithstanding all this, he never forgets my brother Carlo and you.'
'That's the way to have good friends,' said the carpenter. 'And I like his way; he does more than he says. Facts are masculine, and words are feminine.'36
These good friends seemed to make Francisco happier than Piedro could be made by his stolen diamonds.
One morning, Francisco was sent to finish a sketch of the front of an ancient temple, amongst the ruins of Herculaneum. He had just reached the pit, and the men were about to let him down with cords, in the usual manner, when his attention was caught by the shrill sound of a scolding woman's voice. He looked, and saw at some paces distant this female fury, who stood guarding the windlass of a well, to which, with threatening gestures and most voluble menaces, she forbade all access. The peasants—men, women, and children, who had come with their pitchers to draw water at this well—were held at bay by the enraged female. Not one dared to be the first to advance; whilst she grasped with one hand the handle of the windlass, and, with the other tanned muscular arm extended, governed the populace, bidding them remember that she was padrona, or mistress of the well. They retired, in hopes of finding a more gentle padrona at some other well in the neighbourhood; and the fury, when they were out of sight, divided the long black hair which hung over her face, and, turning to one of the spectators, appealed to them in a sober voice, and asked if she was not right in what she had done. 'I, that am padrona of the well,' said she, addressing herself to Francisco, who, with great attention, was contemplating her with the eye of a painter—'I, that am padronaof the well, must in times of scarcity do strict justice, and preserve for ourselves alone the water of our well. There is scarcely enough even for ourselves. I have been obliged to make my husband lengthen the ropes every day for this week past. If things go on at this rate, there will soon be not one drop of water left in my well.'
'Nor in any of the wells of the neighbourhood,' added one of the workmen, who was standing by; and he mentioned several in which the water had lately suddenly decreased; and a miller affirmed that his mill had stopped for want of water.
Francisco was struck by these remarks. They brought to his recollection similar facts, which he had often heard his father mention in his childhood, as having been observed previous to the last eruption of Mount Vesuvius.37He had also heard from his father, in his childhood, that it is better to trust to prudence than to fortune; and therefore, though the peasants and workmen, to whom he mentioned his fears, laughed, and said, 'That as the burning mountain had been favourable to them for so many years, they would trust to it and St. Januarius one day longer,' yet Francisco immediately gave up all thoughts of spending this day amidst the ruins of Herculaneum. After having inquired sufficiently, after having seen several wells, in which the water had evidently decreased, and after having seen the mill-wheels that were standing still for want of their usual supply, he hastened home to his father and mother, reported what he had heard and seen, and begged of them to remove, and to take what things of value they could to some distance from the dangerous spot where they now resided.
Some of the inhabitants of Resina, whom he questioned, declared that they had heard strange rumbling noises underground; and a peasant and his son, who had been at work the preceding day in a vineyard, a little above the village, related that they had seen a sudden puff of smoke come out of the earth, close to them; and that they had, at the same time, heard a noise like the going off of a pistol.38
The villagers listened with large eyes and open ears tothese relations; yet such was their habitual attachment to the spot they lived upon, or such the security in their own good fortune, that few of them would believe that there could be any necessity for removing. 'We'll see what will happen to-morrow; we shall be safe here one day longer,' said they.
Francisco's father and mother, more prudent than the generality of their neighbours, went to the house of a relation, at some miles' distance from Vesuvius, and carried with them all their effects.
In the meantime, Francisco went to the villa where his English friends resided. The villa was in a most dangerous situation, near Torre del Greco—a town that stands at the foot of Mount Vesuvius. He related all the facts that he had heard to Arthur, who, not having been, like the inhabitants of Resina, familiarised to the idea of living in the vicinity of a burning mountain and habituated to trust in St. Januarius, was sufficiently alarmed by Francisco's representations. He ran to his master's apartment, and communicated all that he had just heard. The Count de Flora and his lady, who were at this time in the house, ridiculed the fears of Arthur, and could not be prevailed upon to remove even as far as Naples. The lady was intent upon preparations for her birthday, which was to be celebrated in a few days with great magnificence at their villa; and she observed that it would be a pity to return to town before that day, and they had everything arranged for the festival. The prudent Englishman had not the gallantry to appear to be convinced by these arguments, and he left the place of danger. He left it not too soon, for the next morning exhibited a scene—a scene which we shall not attempt to describe.
We refer our young readers to the account of this dreadful eruption of Mount Vesuvius, published by Sir W. Hamilton in thePhilosophical Transactions. It is sufficient here to say that, in the space of about five hours, the wretched inhabitants of Torre del Greco saw their town utterly destroyed by the streams of burning lava which poured from the mountain. The villa of Count de Flora, with some others, which were at a little distance from the town, escaped; but they were absolutely surrounded by the lava. The count and countess were obliged to fly from their house with the utmost precipitationin the night-time; and they had not time to remove any of their furniture, their plate, clothes, or jewels.
A few days after the eruption, the surface of the lava became so cool that people could walk upon it, though several feet beneath the surface it was still exceedingly hot. Numbers of those who had been forced from their houses now returned to the ruins to try to save whatever they could. But these unfortunate persons frequently found their houses had been pillaged by robbers, who, in these moments of general confusion, enrich themselves with the spoils of their fellow-creatures.
'Has the count abandoned his villa? and is there no one to take care of his plate and furniture? The house will certainly be ransacked before morning,' said the old carpenter to Francisco, who was at his house giving him an account of their flight. Francisco immediately went to the count's house in Naples, to warn him of his danger. The first person he saw was Arthur, who, with a face of terror, said to him, 'Do you know what has happened? It is all over with Resina!' 'All over with Resina! What, has there been a fresh eruption? Has the lava reached Resina?' 'No; but it will inevitably be blown up. There,' said Arthur, pointing to a thin figure of an Italian, who stood pale and trembling, and looking up to heaven as he crossed himself repeatedly—'There,' said Arthur, 'is a man who has left a parcel of his cursed rockets and fireworks, with I don't know how much gunpowder, in the count's house, from which we have just fled. The wind blows that way. One spark of fire, and the whole is blown up.'
Francisco waited not to hear more; but instantly, without explaining his intentions to any one, set out for the count's villa, and, with a bucket of water in his hand, crossed the beds of lava with which the house was encompassed; when, reaching the hall where the rockets and gunpowder were left, he plunged them into the water, and returned with them in safety over the lava, yet warm under his feet.
What was the surprise and joy of the poor firework-maker when he saw Francisco return from this dangerous expedition! He could scarcely believe his eyes, when he saw the rockets and the gunpowder all safe.
i038Returned in safety over the lava, yet warm under his feet.
Returned in safety over the lava, yet warm under his feet.
The count, who had given up the hopes of saving hispalace, was in admiration when he heard of this instance of intrepidity, which probably saved not only his villa, but the whole village of Resina, from destruction. These fireworks had been prepared for the celebration of the countess's birthday, and were forgotten in the hurry of the night on which the inhabitants fled from Torre del Greco.
'Brave young man!' said the count to Francisco, 'I thank you, and shall not limit my gratitude to thanks. You tell me that there is danger of my villa being pillaged by robbers. It is from this moment your interest as well as mine to prevent their depredations; for (trust to my liberality) a portion of all that is saved of mine shall be yours.'
'Bravo! bravissimo!' exclaimed one who started from a recessed window in the hall where all this passed. 'Bravo! bravissimo!' Francisco thought he knew the voice and the countenance of this man, who exclaimed with so much enthusiasm. He remembered to have seen him before, but when, or where, he could not recollect. As soon as the count left the hall, the stranger came up to Francisco. 'Is it possible,' said he, 'that you don't know me? It is scarcely a twelvemonth since I drew tears from your eyes.' 'Tears from my eyes?' repeated Francisco, smiling; 'I have shed but few tears. I have had but few misfortunes in my life.' The stranger answered him by two extempore Italian lines, which conveyed nearly the same idea that has been so well expressed by an English poet:—
To each their sufferings—all are menCondemn'd alike to groan;The feeling for another's woes,Th' unfeeling for his own.
To each their sufferings—all are menCondemn'd alike to groan;The feeling for another's woes,Th' unfeeling for his own.
'I know you now perfectly well,' cried Francisco; 'you are the Improvisatore who, one fine moonlight night last summer, told us the story of Cornaro the Turk.'
'The same,' said the Improvisatore; 'the same, though in a better dress, which I should not have thought would have made so much difference in your eyes, though it makes all the difference between man and man in the eyes of the stupid vulgar. My genius has broken through the clouds of misfortune of late. A few happy impromptu verses I made on the Count de Flora's fall from his horse attracted attention.The count patronises me. I am here now to learn the fate of an ode I have just composed for his lady's birthday. My ode was to have been set to music, and to have been performed at his villa near Torre del Greco, if these troubles had not intervened. Now that the mountain is quiet again, people will return to their senses. I expect to be munificently rewarded. But perhaps I detain you. Go; I shall not forget to celebrate the heroic action you have performed this day. I still amuse myself amongst the populace in my tattered garb late in the evenings, and I shall sound your praises through Naples in a poem I mean to recite on the late eruption of Mount Vesuvius. Adieu.'
The Improvisatore was as good as his word. That evening, with more than his usual enthusiasm, he recited his verses to a great crowd of people in one of the public squares. Amongst the crowd were several to whom the name of Francisco was well known, and by whom he was well beloved. These were his young companions, who remembered him as a fruit-seller amongst the little merchants. They rejoiced to hear his praises, and repeated the lines with shouts of applause.
'Let us pass. What is all this disturbance in the streets?' said a man, pushing his way through the crowd. A lad who held by his arm stopped suddenly on hearing the name of Francisco, which the people were repeating with so much enthusiasm.
'Ha! I have found at last a story that interests you more than that of Cornaro the Turk,' cried the Improvisatore, looking in the face of the youth who had stopped so suddenly. 'You are the young man who, last summer, had liked to have tricked me out of my new hat. Promise me you won't touch it now,' said he, throwing down the hat at his feet, 'or you hear not one word I have to say. Not one word of the heroic action performed at the villa of the Count de Flora, near Torre del Greco, this morning, by Signor Francisco.'
'SignorFrancisco!' repeated the lad with disdain. 'Well, let us hear what you have to tell of him,' added he. 'Your hat is very safe, I promise you; I shall not touch it. What ofSignorFrancisco?'
'SignorFrancisco I may, without impropriety, call him,' said the Improvisatore, 'for he is likely to become rich enough to command the title from those who might not otherwise respect his merit.'
'Likely to become rich! how?' said the lad, whom our readers have probably before this time discovered to be Piedro. 'How, pray, is he likely to become rich enough to be a signor?'
'The Count de Flora has promised him a liberal portion of all the fine furniture, plate, and jewels that can be saved from his villa at Torre del Greco. Francisco is gone down hither now with some of the count's domestics to protect the valuable goods against those villainous plunderers, who robbed their fellow-creatures of what even the flames of Vesuvius would spare.'
'Come, we have had enough of this stuff,' cried the man whose arm Piedro held. 'Come away,' and he hurried forwards.
This man was one of the villains against whom the honest orator expressed such indignation. He was one of those with whom Piedro got acquainted during the time that he was living extravagantly upon the money he gained by the sale of the stolen diamond cross. That robbery was not discovered; and hissuccess, as he called it, hardened him in guilt. He was both unwilling and unable to withdraw himself from the bad company with whom his ill-gotten wealth connected him. He did not consider that bad company leads to the gallows.39
The universal confusion which followed the eruption of Mount Vesuvius was to these villains a time of rejoicing. No sooner did Piedro's companion hear of the rich furniture, plate, etc., which the imprudent orator had described as belonging to the Count de Flora's villa, than he longed to make himself master of the whole.
'It is a pity,' said Piedro, 'that the count has sent Francisco with his servants down to guard it.' 'And who is this Francisco of whom you seem to stand in so much awe?' 'A boy, a young lad only, of about my own age; but I know him to be sturdily honest. The servants we might corrupt; but even the old proverb of "Angle with a silver hook,"40won't hold good with him.'
'And if he cannot be won by fair means, he must be conquered by foul,' said the desperate villain; 'but if we offer him rather more than the count has already promised for hisshare of the booty, of course he will consult at once his safety and his interest.'
'No,' said Piedro; 'that is not his nature. I know him from a child, and we'd better think of some other house for to-night's business.'
'None other; none but this,' cried his companion, with an oath. 'My mind is determined upon this, and you must obey your leader: recollect the fate of him who failed me yesterday.'
The person to whom he alluded was one of the gang of robbers who had been assassinated by his companions for hesitating to commit some crime suggested by their leader. No tyranny is so dreadful as that which is exercised by villains over their young accomplices, who become their slaves. Piedro, who was of a cowardly nature, trembled at the threatening countenance of his captain, and promised submission.
In the course of the morning, inquiries were made secretly amongst the count's servants; and the two men who were engaged to sit up at the villa that night along with Francisco were bribed to second the views of this gang of thieves. It was agreed that about midnight the robbers should be let into the house; that Francisco should be tied hand and foot, whilst they carried off their booty. 'He is a stubborn chap, though so young, I understand,' said the captain of the robbers to his men; 'but we carry poniards, and know how to use them. Piedro, you look pale. You don't require to be reminded of what I said to you when we were alone just now?'
Piedro's voice failed, and some of his comrades observed that he was young and new to the business. The captain, who, from being his pretended friend during his wealthy days, had of late become his tyrant, cast a stern look at Piedro, and bid him be sure to be at the old Jew's, which was the place of meeting, in the dusk of the evening. After saying this he departed.
Piedro, when he was alone, tried to collect his thoughts—all his thoughts were full of horror. 'Where am I?' said he to himself; 'what am I about? Did I understand rightly what he said about poniards? Francisco; oh, Francisco! Excellent, kind, generous Francisco! Yes, I recollect your look when you held the bunch of grapes to my lips, as I sat by the sea-shore deserted by all the world; and now, what friends have I? Robbers and——' The wordmurderershecould not utter. He again recollected what had been said about poniards, and the longer his mind fixed upon the words, and the look that accompanied them, the more he was shocked. He could not doubt that it was the serious intention of his accomplices to murder Francisco, if he should make any resistance.
Piedro had at this moment no friend in the world to whom he could apply for advice or assistance. His wretched father died some weeks before this time, in a fit of intoxication. Piedro walked up and down the street, scarcely capable of thinking, much less of coming to any rational resolution.
The hours passed away, the shadows of the houses lengthened under his footsteps, the evening came on, and when it grew dusk, after hesitating in great agony of mind for some time, his fear of the robbers' vengeance prevailed over every other feeling, and he went at the appointed hour to the place of meeting.
The place of meeting was at the house of that Jew to whom he, several months before, sold the diamond cross. That cross which he thought himself so lucky to have stolen, and to have disposed of undetected, was, in fact, the cause of his being in his present dreadful situation. It was at the Jew's that he connected himself with this gang of robbers, to whom he was now become an absolute slave.
'Oh that I dared to disobey!' said he to himself, with a deep sigh, as he knocked softly at the back door of the Jew's house. The back door opened into a narrow, unfrequented street, and some small rooms at this side of the house were set apart for the reception of guests who desired to have their business kept secret. These rooms were separated by a dark passage from the rest of the house, and numbers of people came to the shop in the front of the house, which looked into a creditable street, without knowing anything more, from the ostensible appearance of the shop, than that it was a kind of pawnbroker's, where old clothes, old iron, and all sorts of refuse goods might be disposed of conveniently.
At the moment Piedro knocked at the back door, the front shop was full of customers; and the Jew's boy, whose office it was to attend to these signals, let Piedro in, told him that none of his comrades were yet come, and left him in a room by himself.
He was pale and trembling, and felt a cold dew spread over him. He had a leaden image of Saint Januarius tied round his neck, which, in the midst of his wickedness, he superstitiously preserved as a sort of charm, and on this he kept his eyes stupidly fixed, as he sat alone in this gloomy place.
He listened from time to time, but he heard no noise at the side of the house where he was. His accomplices did not arrive, and, in a sort of impatient terror, the attendant upon an evil conscience, he flung open the door of his cell, and groped his way through the passage which he knew led to the public shop. He longed to hear some noise, and to mix with the living. The Jew, when Piedro entered the shop, was bargaining with a poor, thin-looking man about some gunpowder.
'I don't deny that it has been wet,' said the man, 'but since it was in the bucket of water, it has been carefully dried. I tell you the simple truth, that so soon after the grand eruption of Mount Vesuvius, the people of Naples will not relish fireworks. My poor little rockets, and even my Catherine-wheels, will have no effect. I am glad to part with all I have in this line of business. A few days ago I had fine things in readiness for the Countess de Flora's birthday, which was to have been celebrated at the count's villa.'
'Why do you fix your eyes on me, friend? What is your discourse to me?' said Piedro, who imagined that the man fixed his eyes upon him as he mentioned the name of the count's villa.
'I did not know that I fixed my eyes upon you; I was thinking of my fireworks,' said the poor man, simply. 'But now that I do look at you and hear your voice, I recollect having had the pleasure of seeing you before.'
'When? where?' said Piedro.
'A great while ago; no wonder you have forgotten me,' said the man; 'but I can recall the night to your recollection. You were in the street with me the night I let off that unlucky rocket which frightened the horses, and was the cause of overturning a lady's coach. Don't you remember the circumstance?'
'I have a confused recollection of some such thing,' said Piedro, in great embarrassment; and he looked suspiciously at this man, in doubt whether he was cunning, and wanted to sound him, or whether he was so simple as he appeared.
'You did not, perhaps, hear, then,' continued the man 'that there was a great search made, after the overturn, for a fine diamond cross belonging to the lady in the carriage? That lady, though I did not know it till lately, was the Countess de Flora.'
'I know nothing of the matter,' interrupted Piedro, in great agitation. His confusion was so marked that the firework-maker could not avoid taking notice of it; and a silence of some moments ensued. The Jew, more practised in dissimulation than Piedro, endeavoured to turn the man's attention back to his rockets and his gunpowder—agreed to take the gunpowder—paid for it in haste, and was, though apparently unconcerned, eager to get rid of him. But this was not so easily done. The man's curiosity was excited, and his suspicions of Piedro were increased every moment by all the dark changes of his countenance. Piedro, overpowered with the sense of guilt, surprised at the unexpected mention of the diamond cross, and of the Count de Flora's villa, stood like one convicted, and seemed fixed to the spot, without power of motion.
'I want to look at the old cambric that you said you had—that would do for making—that you could let me have cheap for artificial flowers,' said the firework-maker to the Jew; and as he spoke, his eye from time to time looked towards Piedro.
Piedro felt for the leaden image of the saint, which he wore round his neck. The string which held it cracked, and broke with the pull he gave it. This slight circumstance affected his terrified and superstitious mind more than all the rest. He imagined that at this moment his fate was decided; that Saint Januarius deserted him, and that he was undone. He precipitately followed the firework-man the instant he left the shop, and seizing hold of his arm, whispered, 'I must speak to you.' 'Speak, then,' said the man, astonished. 'Not here; this way,' said he, drawing him towards the dark passage; 'what I have to say must not be overheard. You are going to the Count de Flora's, are not you?' 'I am,' said the man. He was going there to speak to the countess about some artificial flowers; but Piedro thought he was going to speak to her about the diamond cross. 'You are going to give information against me? Nay, hear me, I confess that I purloined that diamond cross; but I can do the count a great service, uponcondition that he pardons me. His villa is to be attacked this night by four well-armed men. They will set out five hours hence. I am compelled, under the threat of assassination, to accompany them; but I shall do no more. I throw myself upon the count's mercy. Hasten to him—we have no time to lose.'
The poor man, who heard this confession, escaped from Piedro the moment he loosed his arm. With all possible expedition he ran to the count's palace in Naples, and related to him all that had been said by Piedro. Some of the count's servants, on whom he could most depend, were at a distant part of the city attending their mistress, but the English gentleman offered the services of his man Arthur. Arthur no sooner heard the business, and understood that Francisco was in danger, than he armed himself without saying one word, saddled his English horse, and was ready to depart before any one else had finished his exclamations and conjectures.
'But we are not to set out yet,' said the servant; 'it is but four miles to Torre del Greco; the sbirri (officers of justice) are summoned—they are to go with us—we must wait for them.'
They waited, much against Arthur's inclination, a considerable time for these sbirri. At length they set out, and just as they reached the villa, the flash of a pistol was seen from one of the apartments in the house. The robbers were there. This pistol was snapped by their captain at poor Francisco, who had bravely asserted that he would, as long as he had life, defend the property committed to his care. The pistol missed fire, for it was charged with some of the damaged powder which the Jew had bought that evening from the firework-maker, and which he had sold as excellent immediately afterwards to his favourite customers—the robbers who met at his house.
Arthur, as soon as he perceived the flash of the piece, pressed forward through all the apartments, followed by the count's servants and the officers of justice. At the sudden appearance of so many armed men, the robbers stood dismayed. Arthur eagerly shook Francisco's hand, congratulating him upon his safety, and did not perceive, till he had given him several rough friendly shakes, that his arm was wounded, and that he was pale with the loss of blood.
'It is not much—only a slight wound,' said Francisco; 'one that I should have escaped if I had been upon my guard; but the sight of a face that I little expected to see in such company took from me all presence of mind; and one of the ruffians stabbed me here in the arm, whilst I stood in stupid astonishment.'
'Oh! take me to prison! take me to prison—I am weary of life—I am a wretch not fit to live!' cried Piedro, holding his hands to be tied by the sbirri.
The next morning Piedro was conveyed to prison; and as he passed through the streets of Naples he was met by several of those who had known him when he was a child. 'Ay,' said they, as he went by, 'his father encouraged him in cheating when he wasbut a child; and see what he is come to, now he is a man!' He was ordered to remain twelve months in solitary confinement. His captain and his accomplices were sent to the galleys, and the Jew was banished from Naples.
And now, having got these villains out of the way, let us return to honest Francisco. His wound was soon healed. Arthur was no bad surgeon, for he let his patient get well as fast as he pleased; and Carlo and Rosetta nursed him with so much kindness, that he was almost sorry to find himself perfectly recovered.
'Now that you are able to go out,' said Francisco's father to him, 'you must come and look at my new house, my dear son.' 'Your new house, father?' 'Yes, son, and a charming one it is, and a handsome piece of land near it—all at a safe distance, too, from Mount Vesuvius; and can you guess how I came by it?—it was given to me for having a good son.'
'Yes,' cried Carlo; 'the inhabitants of Resina, and several who had property near Torre del Greco, and whose houses and lives were saved by your intrepidity in carrying the materials for the fireworks and the gunpowder out of this dangerous place, went in a body to the duke, and requested that he would mention your name and these facts to the king, who, amongst the grants he has made to the sufferers by the late eruption of Mount Vesuvius, has been pleased to say that he gives this house and garden to your father, because you have saved the property and lives of many of his subjects.'
The value of a handsome portion of furniture, plate, etc., in the Count de Flora's villa, was, according to the count's promise,given to him; and this money he divided between his own family and that of the good carpenter who first put a pencil into his hands. Arthur would not accept of any present from him. To Mr. Lee, the English gentleman, he offered one of his own drawings—a fruit-piece. 'I like this very well,' said Arthur, as he examined the drawing, 'but I should like this melon better if it was a little bruised. It is now three years ago since I was going to buy that bruised melon from you; you showed me your honest nature then, though you were but a boy; and I have found you the same ever since. A good beginning makes a good ending—an honest boy will make an honest man; and honesty is the best policy, as you have proved to all who wanted the proof, I hope.'
'Yes,' added Francisco's father, 'I think it is pretty plain that Piedro the Cunning has not managed quite so well as Francisco the Honest.'
Delightful task! to rear the tender thought,—To teach the young idea how to shoot,—To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind,—To breathe th' enlivening spirit,—and to fixThe generous purpose in the glowing breast.Thomson.
Delightful task! to rear the tender thought,—To teach the young idea how to shoot,—To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind,—To breathe th' enlivening spirit,—and to fixThe generous purpose in the glowing breast.
Thomson.
Young Hardywas educated by Mr. Trueman, a very excellent master, at one of our rural Sunday schools. He was honest, obedient, active, and good-natured, hence he was esteemed by his master; and being beloved by all his companions who were good, he did not desire to be loved by the bad; nor was he at all vexed or ashamed when idle, mischievous, or dishonest boys attempted to plague or ridicule him. His friend Loveit, on the contrary, wished to be universally liked, and his highest ambition was to be thought the best-natured boy in the school—and so he was. He usually went by the name ofPoor Loveit, and everybody pitied him when he got into disgrace, which he frequently did, for, though he had a good disposition, he was often led to do things which he knew to be wrong merely because he could never have the courage to say 'No,' because he was afraid to offend the ill-natured, and could not bear to be laughed at by fools.
One fine autumn evening, all the boys were permitted to go out to play in a pleasant green meadow near the school. Loveit and another boy, called Tarlton, began to play a game at battledore and shuttlecock, and a large party stood by to look on, for they were the best players at battledore and shuttlecock in the school, and this was a trial of skill between them. When they had got it up to three hundred and twenty, the game became very interesting. The arms of the combatantsgrew so tired that they could scarcely wield the battledores. The shuttlecock began to waver in the air; now it almost touched the ground, and now, to the astonishment of the spectators, mounted again high over their heads; yet the strokes became feebler and feebler; and 'Now, Loveit!' 'Now, Tarlton!' resounded on all sides. For another minute the victory was doubtful; but at length the setting sun, shining full in Loveit's face, so dazzled his eyes that he could no longer see the shuttlecock, and it fell at his feet.
After the first shout for Tarlton's triumph was over, everybody exclaimed, 'Poor Loveit! he's the best-natured fellow in the world! What a pity that he did not stand with his back to the sun!'
'Now, I dare you all to play another game with me,' cried Tarlton, vauntingly; and as he spoke, he tossed the shuttlecock up with all his force—with so much force that it went over the hedge and dropped into a lane which went close beside the field. 'Heyday!' said Tarlton, 'what shall we do now?'
The boys were strictly forbidden to go into the lane; and it was upon their promise not to break this command, that they were allowed to play in the adjoining field.
No other shuttlecock was to be had, and their play was stopped. They stood on the top of the bank, peeping over the hedge. 'I see it yonder,' said Tarlton; 'I wish somebody would get it. One could get over the gate at the bottom of the field, and be back again in half a minute,' added he, looking at Loveit. 'But you know we must not go into the lane,' said Loveit, hesitatingly. 'Pugh!' said Tarlton, 'why, now, what harm could it do?' 'I don't know,' said Loveit, drumming upon his battledore; 'but——' 'You don't know, man! why, then, what are you afraid of, I ask you?' Loveit coloured, went on drumming, and again, in a lower voice, said 'he didn't know.' But upon Tarlton's repeating, in a more insolent tone, 'I ask you, man, what you're afraid of?' he suddenly left off drumming, and looking round, said, 'he was not afraid of anything that he knew of.' 'Yes, but you are,' said Hardy, coming forward. 'Am I?' said Loveit; 'of what, pray, am I afraid?' 'Of doing wrong!' 'Afraidof doing wrong!' repeated Tarlton, mimicking him, so that he made everybody laugh. 'Now, hadn't you better say afraid of being flogged?' 'No,' said Hardy, coolly, after the laugh had somewhat subsided,'I am as little afraid of being flogged as you are, Tarlton; but I meant——' 'No matter what you meant; why should you interfere with your wisdom and your meanings; nobody thought of askingyouto stir a step for us; but we asked Loveit, because he's the best fellow in the world.' 'And for that very reason you should not ask him, because you know he can't refuse you anything.' 'Indeed, though,' cried Loveit, piqued, 'thereyou're mistaken, for I could refuse if I chose it.'
Hardy smiled; and Loveit, half afraid of his contempt, and half afraid of Tarlton's ridicule, stood doubtful, and again had recourse to his battledore, which he balanced most curiously upon his forefinger. 'Look at him!—now do look at him!' cried Tarlton; 'did you ever in your life see anybody look so silly!—Hardy has him quite under his thumb; he's so mortally afraid of Parson Prig, that he dare not, for the soul of him, turn either of his eyes from the tip of his nose; look how he squints!' 'I don't squint,' said Loveit, looking up, 'and nobody has me under his thumb! and what Hardy said was only for fear I should get in disgrace; he's the best friend I have.'
Loveit spoke this with more than usual spirit, for both his heart and his pride were touched. 'Come along, then,' said Hardy, taking him by the arm in an affectionate manner; and he was just going, when Tarlton called after him, 'Ay, go along with its best friend, and take care it does not get into a scrape;—good-bye, Little Panado!' 'Whom do they call Little Panado?' said Loveit, turning his head hastily back. 'Never mind,' said Hardy, 'what does it signify?' 'No,' said Loveit, 'to be sure it does not signify; but one does not like to be called Little Panado; besides,' added he, after going a few steps farther, 'they'll all think it so ill-natured. I had better go back, and just tell them that I'm very sorry I can't get their shuttlecock;—do come back with me.' 'No,' said Hardy, 'I can't go back; and you'd better not.' 'But, I assure you, I won't stay a minute; wait for me,' added Loveit; and he slunk back again to prove that he was not Little Panado.
Once returned, the rest followed, of course; for to support his character of good nature he was obliged to yield to the entreaties of his companions, and, to show his spirit, leapt over the gate, amidst the acclamations of the little mob:—he was quickly out of sight.
'Here,' cried he, returning in about five minutes, quite out of breath, 'I've got the shuttlecock; and I'll tell you what I've seen,' cried he, panting for breath. 'What?' cried everybody, eagerly. 'Why, just at the turn of the corner, at the end of the lane'—panting. 'Well,' said Tarlton, impatiently, 'do go on.' 'Let me just take breath first.' 'Pugh—never mind your breath.' 'Well, then, just at the turn of the corner, at the end of the lane, as I was looking about for the shuttlecock, I heard a great rustling somewhere near me, and so I looked where it could come from; and I saw, in a nice little garden, on the opposite side of the way, a boy, about as big as Tarlton, sitting in a great tree, shaking the branches; so I called to the boy, to beg one; but he said he could not give me one, for that they were his grandfather's; and just at that minute, from behind a gooseberry bush, up popped the uncle; the grandfather poked his head out of the window; so I ran off as fast as my legs would carry me, though I heard him bawling after me all the way.'
'And let him bawl,' cried Tarlton; 'he shan't bawl for nothing; I'm determined we'll have some of his fine large rosy apples before I sleep to-night.'
At this speech a general silence ensued; everybody kept his eyes fixed upon Tarlton, except Loveit, who looked down, apprehensive that he should be drawn on much farther than he intended. 'Oh, indeed!' said he to himself, 'as Hardy told me, I had better not have come back!'
Regardless of this confusion, Tarlton continued, 'But before I say any more, I hope we have no spies amongst us. If there is any one of you afraid to be flogged, let him march off this instant!'
Loveit coloured, bit his lips, wished to go, but had not the courage to move first. He waited to see what everybody else would do: nobody stirred; so Loveit stood still.
'Well, then,' cried Tarlton, giving his hand to the boy next him, then to the next, 'your word and honour that you won't betray me; but stand by me, and I'll stand by you.' Each boy gave his hand and his promise, repeating, 'Stand by me, and I'll stand by you.'
Loveit hung back till the last; and had almost twisted off the button of the boy's coat who screened him, when Tarlton came up, holding out his hand, 'Come, Loveit, lad, you're in forit: stand by me, and I'll stand by you.' 'Indeed, Tarlton,' expostulated he, without looking him in the face, 'I do wish you'd give up this scheme; I daresay all the apples are gone by this time; I wish you would. Do, pray, give up this scheme.' 'What scheme, man? you haven't heard it yet; you may as well know your text before you begin preaching.'
The corners of Loveit's mouth could not refuse to smile, though in his heart he felt not the slightest inclination to laugh.
'Why, I don't know you, I declare I don't know you to-day,' said Tarlton; 'you used to be the best-natured, most agreeable lad in the world, and would do anything one asked you; but you're quite altered of late, as we were saying just now, when you skulked away with Hardy; come,—do, man, pluck up a little spirit, and be one of us, or you'll make us allhate you.' 'Hateme!' repeated Loveit, with terror; 'no, surely, you won't allhateme!' and he mechanically stretched out his hand, which Tarlton shook violently, saying, 'Ay, now, that's right.' 'Ay, now, that's wrong!' whispered Loveit's conscience; but his conscience was of no use to him, for it was always overpowered by the voice of numbers; and though he had the wish, he never had the power, to do right. 'Poor Loveit! I knew he would not refuse us,' cried his companions; and even Tarlton, the moment he shook hands with him, despised him. It is certain that weakness of mind is despised both by the good and the bad.
The league being thus formed, Tarlton assumed all the airs of commander, explained his schemes, and laid the plan of attack upon the poor old man's apple-tree. It was the only one he had in the world. We shall not dwell upon their consultation; for the amusement of contriving such expeditions is often the chief thing which induces idle boys to engage in them.
There was a small window at the end of the back staircase, through which, between nine and ten o'clock at night, Tarlton, accompanied by Loveit and another boy, crept out. It was a moonlight night, and after crossing the field, and climbing the gate, directed by Loveit, who now resolved to go through the affair with spirit, they proceeded down the lane with rash yet fearful steps.
At a distance Loveit saw the whitewashed cottage, andthe apple-tree beside it. They quickened their pace, and with some difficulty scrambled through the hedge which fenced the garden, though not without being scratched and torn by the briers. Everything was silent. Yet now and then, at every rustling of the leaves, they started, and their hearts beat violently. Once, as Loveit was climbing the apple-tree, he thought he heard a door in the cottage open, and earnestly begged his companions to desist and return home. This, however, he could by no means persuade them to do, until they had filled their pockets with apples; then, to his great joy, they returned, crept in at the staircase window, and each retired, as softly as possible, to his own apartment.
Loveit slept in the room with Hardy, whom he had left fast asleep, and whom he now was extremely afraid of awakening. All the apples were emptied out of Loveit's pockets, and lodged with Tarlton till the morning, for fear the smell should betray the secret to Hardy. The room door was apt to creak, but it was opened with such precaution that no noise could be heard, and Loveit found his friend as fast asleep as when he left him.
'Ah,' said he to himself, 'how quietly he sleeps! I wish I had been sleeping too.' The reproaches of Loveit's conscience, however, served no other purpose but to torment him; he had not sufficient strength of mind to be good. The very next night, in spite of all his fears, and all his penitence, and all his resolutions, by a little fresh ridicule and persuasion he was induced to accompany the same party on a similar expedition. We must observe that the necessity for continuing their depredations became stronger the third day; for, though at first only a small party had been in the secret, by degrees it was divulged to the whole school; and it was necessary to secure secrecy by sharing the booty.
Every one was astonished that Hardy, with all his quickness and penetration, had not yet discovered their proceedings; but Loveit could not help suspecting that he was not quite so ignorant as he appeared to be. Loveit had strictly kept his promise of secrecy; but he was by no means an artful boy; and in talking to his friend, conscious that he had something to conceal, he was perpetually on the point of betraying himself; then, recollecting his engagement, he blushed, stammered, bungled; and upon Hardy's asking what he meant, wouldanswer with a silly, guilty countenance that he did not know; or abruptly break off, saying, 'Oh, nothing! nothing at all!'
It was in vain that he urged Tarlton to permit him to consult his friend. A gloom overspread Tarlton's brow when he began to speak on the subject, and he always returned a peremptory refusal, accompanied with some such taunting expression as this—'I wish we had nothing to do with such a sneaking fellow; he'll betray us all, I see, before we have done with him.' 'Well,' said Loveit to himself, 'so I am abused after all, and called a sneaking fellow for my pains; that's rather hard, to be sure, when I've got so little by the job.'
In truth he had not got much; for in the division of the booty only one apple, and half of another which was only half ripe, happened to fall to his share; though, to be sure, when they had all eaten their apples, he had the satisfaction to hear everybody declare they were very sorry they had forgotten to offer some of theirs to 'poor Loveit.'
In the meantime, the visits to the apple-tree had been now too frequently repeated to remain concealed from the old man who lived in the cottage. He used to examine his only tree very frequently, and missing numbers of rosy apples, which he had watched ripening, he, though not prone to suspicion, began to think that there was something going wrong; especially as a gap was made in his hedge, and there were several small footsteps in his flower-beds.
The good old man was not at all inclined to give pain to any living creature, much less to children, of whom he was particularly fond. Nor was he in the least avaricious, for though he was not rich, he had enough to live upon, because he had been very industrious in his youth; and he was always very ready to part with the little he had. Nor was he a cross old man. If anything would have made him angry, it would have been the seeing his favourite tree robbed, as he had promised himself the pleasure of giving his red apples to his grandchildren on his birthday. However, he looked up at the tree in sorrow rather than in anger, and leaning upon his staff, he began to consider what he had best do.
'If I complain to their master,' said he to himself, 'they will certainly be flogged, and that I should be sorry for; yet they must not be let to go on stealing; that would be worsestill, for it would surely bring them to the gallows in the end. Let me see—oh, ay, that will do; I will borrow farmer Kent's dog Barker, he'll keep them off, I'll answer for it.'
Farmer Kent lent his dog Barker, cautioning his neighbour, at the same time, to be sure to chain him well, for he was the fiercest mastiff in England. The old man, with farmer Kent's assistance, chained him fast to the trunk of the apple-tree.
Night came; and Tarlton, Loveit, and his companions returned at the usual hour. Grown bolder now by frequent success, they came on talking and laughing. But the moment they had set their foot in the garden, the dog started up; and, shaking his chain as he sprang forward, barked with unremitting fury. They stood still as if fixed to the spot. There was just moonlight enough to see the dog. 'Let us try the other side of the tree,' said Tarlton. But to whichever side they turned, the dog flew round in an instant, barking with increased fury.
'He'll break his chain and tear us to pieces,' cried Tarlton; and, struck with terror, he immediately threw down the basket he had brought with him, and betook himself to flight, with the greatest precipitation. 'Help me! oh, pray, help me! I can't get through the hedge,' cried Loveit, in a lamentable tone, whilst the dog growled hideously, and sprang forward to the extremity of his chain. 'I can't get out! Oh, for God's sake, stay for me one minute, dear Tarlton!' He called in vain; he was left to struggle through his difficulties by himself; and of all his dear friends not one turned back to help him. At last, torn and terrified, he got through the hedge and ran home, despising his companions for their selfishness. Nor could he help observing that Tarlton, with all his vaunted prowess, was the first to run away from the appearance of danger.
The next morning Loveit could not help reproaching the party with their conduct. 'Why could not you, any of you, stay one minute to help me?' said he. 'We did not hear you call,' answered one. 'I was so frightened,' said another, 'I would not have turned back for the whole world.' 'And you, Tarlton?' 'I,' said Tarlton; 'had not I enough to do to take care of myself, you blockhead? Every one for himself in this world!' 'So I see,' said Loveit, gravely. 'Well, man! is there anything strange in that?' 'Strange! why, yes; Ithought you all loved me!' 'Lord love you, lad! so we do; but we love ourselves better.' 'Hardy would not have served me so, however,' said Loveit, turning away in disgust. Tarlton was alarmed. 'Pugh!' said he; 'what nonsense have you taken into your brain? Think no more about it. We are all very sorry, and beg your pardon; come, shake hands,—forgive and forget.'
Loveit gave his hand, but gave it rather coldly. 'I forgive it with all my heart,' said he; 'but I cannot forget it so soon!' 'Why, then, you are not such a good-humoured fellow as we thought you were. Surely you cannot bear malice, Loveit.' Loveit smiled, and allowed that he certainly could not bear malice. 'Well, then, come; you know at the bottom we all love you, and would do anything in the world for you.' Poor Loveit, flattered in his foible, began to believe that they did love him at the bottom, as they said, and even with his eyes open consented again to be duped.
'How strange it is,' thought he, 'that I should set such value upon the love of those I despise! When I'm once out of this scrape, I'll have no more to do with them, I'm determined.'
Compared with his friend Hardy, his new associates did indeed appear contemptible; for all this time Hardy had treated him with uniform kindness, avoided to pry into his secrets, yet seemed ready to receive his confidence, if it had been offered.
After school in the evening, as he was standing silently beside Hardy, who was ruling a sheet of paper for him, Tarlton, in his brutal manner, came up, and seizing him by the arm, cried, 'Come along with me, Loveit, I've something to say to you.' 'I can't come now,' said Loveit, drawing away his arm. 'Ah, do come now,' said Tarlton, in a voice of persuasion. 'Well, I'll come presently.' 'Nay, but do, pray; there's a good fellow, come now, because I've something to say to you.' 'What is it you've got to say to me? I wish you'd let me alone,' said Loveit; yet at the same time he suffered himself to be led away.
Tarlton took particular pains to humour him and bring him into temper again; and even, though he was not very apt to part with his playthings, went so far as to say, 'Loveit, the other day you wanted a top; I'll give you mine if you desireit.' Loveit thanked him, and was overjoyed at the thoughts of possessing this top. 'But what did you want to say to me just now?' 'Ay, we'll talk of that presently; not yet—when we get out of hearing.' 'Nobody is near us,' said Loveit. 'Come a little farther, however,' said Tarlton, looking round suspiciously. 'Well now, well?' 'You know the dog that frightened us so last night?' 'Yes.' 'It will never frighten us again.' 'Won't it? how so?' 'Look here,' said Tarlton, drawing something from his pocket wrapped in a blue handkerchief. 'What's that?' Tarlton opened it. 'Raw meat!' exclaimed Loveit. 'How came you by it?' 'Tom, the servant boy, Tom got it for me, and I'm to give him sixpence.' 'And is it for the dog?' 'Yes, I vowed I'd be revenged on him, and after this he'll never bark again.' 'Never bark again! What do you mean? Is it poison?' exclaimed Loveit, starting back with horror. 'Only poison fora dog;' said Tarlton, confused; 'you could not look more shocked if it was poison for a Christian.'
Loveit stood for nearly a minute in profound silence. 'Tarlton,' said he at last, in a changed tone and altered manner, 'I did not know you; I will have no more to do with you.' 'Nay, but stay,' said Tarlton, catching hold of his arm, 'stay; I was only joking.' 'Let go my arm—you were in earnest.' 'But then that was before I knew there was any harm. If you think there's any harm?' 'If,' said Loveit. 'Why, you know, I might not know; for Tom told me it's a thing that's often done. Ask Tom.' 'I'll ask nobody! Surely we know better what's right and wrong than Tom does.' 'But only just ask him, to hear what he'll say.' 'I don't want to hear what he'll say,' cried Loveit, vehemently; 'the dog will die in agonies—in agonies! There was a dog poisoned at my father's—I saw him in the yard. Poor creature! He lay and howled and writhed himself!' 'Poor creature! Well, there's no harm done now,' cried Tarlton, in a hypocritical tone. But though he thought fit to dissemble with Loveit, he was thoroughly determined in his purpose.
Poor Loveit, in haste to get away, returned to his friend Hardy; but his mind was in such agitation, that he neither talked nor moved like himself; and two or three times his heart was so full that he was ready to burst into tears.