Beati Paoli
by Luigi Natoli
part four, chapter 17
| Italiano | English |
Donna Gabriella waited in vain for the steering wheel, not only all night, but also the next day and did not know what to attribute her disappearance. Instead, she received another anonymous note, which put her on top.
"It is useless for you to wait for your steering wheel. People interested in suppressing your espionage made it disappear: Remember how much you know and trust in who is your friend, and pray for you... Holy Souls."
It was the same hand as before. Tomorrow after lunch the Duchess was set to go out in a carriage to go to the appointment of the hooded man, when at the point of descent the staircase presented Coriolano.
"Are you going out?" she asked. "I'm sorry.... I came to ask your permission to kiss your hand..."
Donna Gabriella was embarrassed; Coriolano's eye looked at her and seemed to read them at the bottom. She didn't dare dismiss him or tell him to come in. The knight of Floresta then smiled kindly and said to her:
"I realize I've gotten to a bad point, but I had something to tell you... If you'll allow me, I'll drive you in a carriage... unless it's annoying..."
"No, no... don't doubt it," he stammered a little confused, not wanting to commit a rude, but certainly not satisfied.
"So let's go."
When they were in a carriage, Coriolano asked her:
"Forgive, Duchess, my indiscretion; but it is in your interest... Where are you going?"
Donna Gabriella blushed without answering.
"I'll tell you then: You go to the confrere of the Holy Souls..."
"What can you suppose?"
"Your own embarrassment and the worthy confrere waiting for you..."
"Oh! how do you know?"
"I know. It doesn't matter how. I know a lot more. For example, this, that you had your poor steering wheel arrested for a... I don't know what to call it..."
"Arrested Peter?" exclaimed Gabriella.
"If you call Peter I don't know, but he is at the Vicaria, accused of seditious cries and speeches!."
"Him! Pietro!..."
"And this to send him around to spy at what time Mr. Don Blasco would return home, having not been able to follow him soon enough, to know where he had gone in the company of Mr. Knight of Floresta..."
Donna Gabriella blushed, paled, looked frightened Coriolano smiling with her sweet and fine smile, correct and measured in the expression of the face, in the gesture, in the attitude.
"Who told you all this?..." he murmured trembling.
"I know, Mrs. Duchess; I promised you that I would be aware of something that interests you and, as you see, I have gathered many news of whose truth you can guarantee yourself..."
The Duchess trembled with dismay, looking with a superstitious amazement at that man who spoke so quietly. Coriolano continued:
"Well, I can tell you who the confrere of the Holy Souls is."
"Who is it?" asked the Duchess.
"Matteo Lo Vecchio!..."
"He!" he exclaimed terrified.
"Surely. And I'll also tell you who had your steering wheel arrested tonight, by the round, with that silly accusation..."
"Who then?"
"Matthew the Old."
Little woman Gabriella was not caught by a fainting. He stuttered with a bewilderment that made Coriolan smile:
"Matthew the Old... Matteo Lo Vecchio!"
So she was in the hands of that birro! What did he want with you? Why did he tell you all those stories about Blasco? Why did you arrest the steering wheel? He was lost! His hands came in desperate and at the same time begging, murmuring:
"I'm crazy! I'm crazy!..."
Then, as taken from a doubt, he asked:
"Are you sure what you're telling me?"
"Do you still doubt? Then I'll tell you everything you did last night..."
"No, I believe you... Oh, God! God!... I'm lost in it..."
"Don't be afraid, that's why I'm here."
"Does Blasco know everything?"
"Everything."
"Oh God, what will he say?... Did he get angry? Did he grieve? Tell me the truth."
"Beloved, no; grieved, very..."
Donna Gabriella was a little quiet. The carriage came out of Porta Felice and the view of the sea called the Duchess to the appointment.
"What shall I do and what shall I say?" she asked how to speak to herself.
"You pretend to ignore who the confrere is and to agree with him..."
"What if you ask me the cards?"
"Here they are."
He pulled a roll tied with a ribbon out of his pocket, handed it over to Gabriella, adding:
"Give him these; they are precisely cards of adjuries and spells. You'll tell him you took them off Blasco while he was sleeping. When you give them to him, ask him what to do. Then I'll come and inform myself, if you'll allow me..."
Donna Gabriella took the envelope. Actually, she was moved by the meeting with Matteo Lo Vecchio and the part she had to play...
The birro was there, under the bastion, covered by the hood, with the box in his hand, scorching shouting:
"Saint Souls!..."
As soon as he saw the carriage of woman Gabriella, he came as if to ask for alms and repeating his cry:
"Saint Souls!..."
Then, as he was carrying the tape, he added in a compassionate tone:
"Your lordship has been in pain!... poor young man!... I saw him this morning..."
"Who are you talking about?"
"On his steering wheel... poor man, he's compassionate!..."
"Where did you see him?"
"To Vicaria. I went by divorce and recognized him. The poor guy came from torture... Ten strokes of rope! Don't joke..."
"What do you say?"
"The truth!... He was defending himself as a poor man!... But you knew it had to be this way!... Don't you guess who the shot comes from?"
"Who from?"
"Who did you have followed?"
In spite of her, Gabriella turned: Blasco? Would it be Blasco?
Didn't he lie to that birro? Although she knew how things had gone, she for a moment doubted. Matteo Lo Vecchio added:
"But now we're gonna fix everything. Did your Lordship know anything about those cards?"
"Yes," answered Gabriella, called back to the part she was supposed to play, "I already did..."
"Really?" exclaimed the birro bouncing for joy.
"Yes, I could take them on a case. He was wearing them..."
"Oh, that's it! I said it right!"
Words could sound in one sense, but they had another in the mind of Matteo Lo Vecchio. He responded to an intimate thought, and he wanted to say: "That's why one couldn't know where they were; he carried them on him."
And he added louder:
"Well, if your Lordship wants to give them to me, we'll make a reverse begging."
"Here they are."
Matteo Lo Vecchio recognized the ribbon, he recognized the outer paper, while noting that at the corners it was a bit burned. A heartfelt pleasure spread over his face; he took those cards and threw them into his chest and said:
"When your lordship allows me, I will come and bring you the other prayers, and I will be able to tell you who Mr. Blasco loves, and what must be done..."
Donna Gabriella had a brilliant flash.
"Come to my house tomorrow night."
If the hood hadn't hidden Matteo Lo Vecchio's face, the Duchess would have seen the mocking smile he made at that proposal.
"Excellency," he said, "these things are not said in the house: The walls don't have ears, but they hear. Rather, if your lordship deserves to be seen here, or in Middle Monreale or where it will command me, I will come and bring her whatever she needs..."
"In my house, it's like a church, but I'm gonna be happy: tomorrow, at this hour, I'm going to the Red Lands..."
"Go to the Red Lands. He's fine. I kiss the hands of your lordship..."
As Gabriella's carriage strayed in one direction, Matteo Lo Vecchio hurried from the other. He took the road of Porta di Termini - as it was then called the road that from the marina, along the walls, went to the Porta di Termini, now known as via Lincoln. - When he arrived under the arch of the door, he took the plico, eager to review the papers so much sought and obtained so cheaply; he loosed the string, carried out the paper that served as a wrapping and got a piece of paper; but as soon as he opened it, he threw a cry of astonishment.
It was a sheet full of cabalistic signs, triangles, circles, barred eyes, monstrous animals, a cross and strange formulas written in an illegible way and some in a ridiculous Latin.
After looking at him and looking at him slowly folded the paper, took another, explained it and made a motion of spite. There were more funny drawings than the ones on the first sheet...
He didn't want to look any further; he made the envelope angryly, muttering between his teeth: "He did it to me! He did it to me! But there's someone else's paw here. Who? Don Blasco? The knight of Floresta? Who? But for Christ's sake, they'll have to do it with me! My name is not Matteo Lo Vecchio unless I give the Duchess a bitter bite!..."
He definitely went to Motta's palace.
In the evening Blasco said to Gabriella:
"Why, then, are you wary of me and tormenting you? Is it possible that you expose yourself to the deception of a rascal, who will have ends to reach? And in the meantime, that poor devil of a steering wheel..."
Donna Gabriella dropped on a stool, murmuring:
"Forgive me! I'm crazy... but I love you so much!..."
"I want you to see how suspicious you've been... Those cards that the birro had asked of you, do not belong to me, nor to you, nor to anyone else: Matteo Lo Vecchio had taken them from a man who had dedicated his life to give back to Emanuele, whom he collected, the rank and the heritage..."
"Don Girolamo Admired!..."
"Don Girolamo. They contain a crime story..." Donna Gabriella lowered her head darkly: "I know them," he said.
Blasco remained silent for a moment and it seemed that the terrible past, of which they had the secret, weighed upon them. He took a burnt roll out of his bosom and resumed:
"Matthew the Elder, I do not know what ends, but of course ignoble, had stolen these cards; I took them away from him on a case and kept them. I was about to destroy them, but I was prevented. Now that the man they condemned is dead, there is no reason to keep them... They could only offend an innocent person in purer affections, for the benefit of no one. That birro trying to get them back through you would certainly make you an accomplice to infamy. Do you want this complicity?"
Donna Gabriella raised her head with furious pride. Blasco continued:
"I knew it well... Here are your cards; you destroy them!..."
"Oh no!..." she said with an expression of rebuke...
Then Blasco approached a candle and lit a strip of paper, holding the envelope so as to envelop and consume it from the flames.
Donna Gabriella felt an impulse to tear those cards and save them from the fire; an inner voice whispered to her:
"Those cards are a weapon against Violante" but something indefinite, obscure, stronger, prevented her from moving and the same voice murmured with an accent of regret and regret: "You save Violante, and you lose yourself!"
The flames consumed the cards to the last edge, Blasco threw on the ground some black leaves crumpled, very light, that blew at a breath, then, passing his hands on his face almost to cast out a shadow took a playful air and approaching woman Gabriella sat next to her and, shaking her hands in her, said to her with her beautiful vibrant youthful voice of joy:
"Well? Why don't you smile at me? Why are you silent?"
Donna Gabriella heard the sad inner voice murmuring again: "He is cheerful because he saved Violante!" And he felt his heart pressed and his eyes moistened, but suddenly, in a wild rush of passion, he tied Blasco's neck with his arms, drawn him to himself, shouting:
"No!... you are mine! only mine!"
