"A most cruel calamity has befallen me," he went on; "and unless you will consent to help me out of it--""I am sure I shall be delighted to do anything in my power," I interrupted, apprehensively; "but I am afraid--""You cannot refuse me till you have heard what I have to say. I amaware that I have no claim whatever upon your kindness; but you are the only man in the world who can save me, and, whereas the happiness of my whole life is at stake, the utmost you can have to put up with will be a little inconvenience. Now I will explain myself in as few words as possible, because I have only a minute to spare. In fact, I ought to be out on the ramparts at this moment. You have not forgotten what I told you about myself and the Signorina Martinelli, and how we had agreed to seize the first opportunity that offered to be privately married, and to escape over the mountains to my father's house, and throw ourselves upon his mercy?""I don't remember your having mentioned any such plan.""No matter--so it was. Well, everything seemed to have fallen out most fortunately for us. I found out some time ago that the marchese would be going over to Padua this evening on business, and would be absent at least one whole day, and I immediately applied for my leave to begin to- morrow. This I obtained at once through my father, who now expects me to be with him in a few days, and little knows that I shall not come alone. Johann and the marchese's housekeeper arranged the rest between them. I was to meet my dear Bianca early in the morning on the Lido; thence we were to go by boat to Mestre, where a carriage was to be in waiting for us; and the same evening we were to be married by a priest, to whom I have given due notice, at a place called Longarone. And so we should have gone on, across the Ampezzo Pass homeward. Now would you believe that all this has been defeated by a mere freak on the part of my colonel? Only this morning, after it was much too late to make any alteration in our plans, he told me that he should require me to be on duty all to-day and to- morrow, and that my leave could not begin until the next day. Is it not maddening? And the worst of it is that I have no means of letting Bianca know of this, for I dare not send a message to the palazzo, and there is no chance of my seeing her myself; and of course she will go to the Lido to- morrow morning, and will find no one there. Now, my dear Mr. Jenkinson--my good, kind friend--do you begin to see what I want you to do for me?" "Not in the very least.""No? But it is evident enough. Now listen. You must meet Bianca to-morrow morning; you explain to her what has happened; you take her in the boat, which will be waiting for you, to Mestre; you proceed in the travelling-carriage, which will also be waiting for you, to Longarone; you see the priest, and appoint with him for the following evening; and the next day I arrive, and you return to Venice. Is that clear?"The volubility with which this programme was enunciated so took away my breath that I scarcely realised its audacity.
"You will not refuse; I am sure you will not," said the count, rising and hooking up his sword, as if about to depart.
"Stop, stop!" I exclaimed. "You don't consider what you are asking. I can't elope with young women in this casual sort of way. I have a character--and a sister. How am I to explain all this to my sister, I should like to know?""Oh, make any excuse you can think of to her. Now, Mr. Jenkinson, you know there cannot be any real difficulty in that. You consent then? A thousand, thousand thanks! I will send you a few more instructions by letter this evening. I really must not stay any longer now. Good-bye.""Stop! Why can't your servant Johann do all this instead of me?" "Because he is on duty like myself. Good-bye.""Stop! Why can't you postpone your flight for a day? I don't so much mind meeting the young lady and telling her all about it.""Quite out of the question, my dear sir. It is perfectly possible that the marchese may return from Padua to-morrow night, and what should we do then? No, no; there is no help for it. Good-bye.""Stop! Hi! Come back!"
But it was too late. My impetuous visitor was down the staircase and away before I had descended a single flight in pursuit, and all I could do was to return to my room and register a vow within my own heart that I would have nothing to do with this preposterous scheme.
Looking back upon what followed across the interval of fifteen years, I find that I can really give no satisfactory reason for my having failed to adhere to this wise resolution. I had no particular feeling of friendship for Von Rosenau; I did not care two straws about the Signorina Bianca, whom I had never seen; and certainly I am not, nor ever was, the sort of personwho loves romantic adventures for their own sake. Perhaps it was good- nature, perhaps it was only an indolent shrinking from disobliging anybody, that influenced me--it does not much matter now. Whatever the cause of my yielding may have been, I did yield. I prefer to pass over in silence the doubts and hesitations which beset me for the remainder of the day; the arrival, toward evening, of the piteous note from Von Rosenau, which finally overcame my weak resistance to his will; and the series of circumstantial false statements (I blush when I think of them) by means of which I accounted to my sister for my proposed sudden departure.
Suffice it to say that, very early on the following morning, there might have been seen, pacing up and down the shore on the seaward side of the Lido, and peering anxiously about him through an eyeglass, as if in search of somebody or something, the figure of a tall, spare Englishman, clad in a complete suit of shepherd's tartan, with a wide- awake on his head, a leather bag slung by a strap across his shoulder, and a light coat over his arm. Myself, in point of act, in the travelling-costume of the epoch.
