The Complete Short Stories of Wilkie Collins. Уилки Коллинз

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СКАЧАТЬ expected to receive a severe reprimand.

      But Father Rocco said nothing. He was thinking. Who could she have written to? If to Fabio, why should she have waited for months and months, after she had learned how to use her pen, before sending him a letter? If not to Fabio, to what other person could she have written?

      “I regret not discovering the address — regret it most deeply,” said the little man, with a low bow of apology.

      “It is too late for regret,” said Father Rocco, coldly. “Tell me how she came to leave your house; I have not heard that yet. Be as brief as you can. I expect to be called every moment to the bedside of a near and dear relation, who is suffering from severe illness. You shall have all my attention; but you must ask it for as short a time as possible.”

      “I will be briefness itself. In the first place, you must know that I have — or rather had — an idle, unscrupulous rascal of an apprentice in my business.”

      The priest pursed up his mouth contemptuously.

      “In the second place, this same good-for-nothing fellow had the impertinence to fall in love with Nanina.”

      Father Rocco started, and listened eagerly.

      “But I must do the girl the justice to say that she never gave him the slightest encouragement; and that, whenever he ventured to speak to her, she always quietly but very decidedly repelled him.”

      “A good girl!” said Father Rocco. “I always said she was a good girl. It was a mistake on my part ever to have distrusted her.”

      “Among the other offenses,” continued the little man, “of which I now find my scoundrel of an apprentice to have been guilty, was the enormity of picking the lock of my desk, and prying into my private papers.”

      “You ought not to have had any. Private papers should always be burned papers.”

      “They shall be for the future; I will take good care of that.”

      “Were any of my letters to you about Nanina among these private papers?”

      “Unfortunately they were. Pray, pray excuse my want of caution this time. It shall never happen again.”

      “Go on. Such imprudence as yours can never be excused; it can only be provided against for the future. I suppose the apprentice showed my letters to the girl?”

      “I infer as much; though why he should do so — ”

      “Simpleton! Did you not say that he was in love with her (as you term it), and that he got no encouragement?”

      “Yes; I said that — and I know it to be true.”

      “Well! Was it not his interest, being unable to make any impression on the girl’s fancy, to establish some claim to her gratitude; and try if he could not win her that way? By showing her my letters, he would make her indebted to him for knowing that she was watched in your house. But this is not the matter in question now. You say you infer that she had seen my letters. On what grounds?”

      “On the strength of this bit of paper,” answered the little man, ruefully producing a note from his pocket. “She must have had your letters shown to her soon after putting her own letter into the post. For, on the evening of the same day, when I went up into her room, I found that she and her sister and the disagreeable dog had all gone, and observed this note laid on the table.”

      Father Rocco took the note, and read these lines:

      “I have just discovered that I have been watched and suspected ever since my stay under your roof. It is impossible that I can remain another night in the house of a spy. I go with my sister. We owe you nothing, and we are free to live honestly where we please. If you see Father Rocco, tell him that I can forgive his distrust of me, but that I can never forget it. I, who had full faith in him, had a right to expect that he should have full faith in me. It was always an encouragement to me to think of him as a father and a friend. I have lost that encouragement forever — and it was the last I had left to me!

      “NANINA.”

      The priest rose from his seat as he handed the note back, and the visitor immediately followed his example.

      “We must remedy this misfortune as we best may,” he said, with a sigh. “Are you ready to go back to Florence tomorrow?”

      The little man bowed again.

      “Find out where she is, and ascertain if she wants for anything, and if she is living in a safe place. Say nothing about me, and make no attempt to induce her to return to your house. Simply let me know what you discover. The poor child has a spirit that no ordinary people would suspect in her. She must be soothed and treated tenderly, and we shall manage her yet. No mistakes, mind, this time! Do just what I tell you, and do no more. Have you anything else to say to me?”

      The little man shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

      “Goodnight, then,” said the priest.

      “Goodnight,” said the little man, slipping through the door that was held open for him with the politest alacrity.

      “This is vexatious,” said Father Rocco, taking a turn or two in the study after his visitor had gone. “It was bad to have done the child an injustice — it is worse to have been found out. There is nothing for it now but to wait till I know where she is. I like her, and I like that note she left behind her. It is bravely, delicately, and honestly written — a good girl — a very good girl, indeed!”

      He walked to the window, breathed the fresh air for a few moments, and quietly dismissed the subject from his mind. When he returned to his table he had no thoughts for any one but his sick niece.

      “It seems strange,” he said, “that I have had no message about her yet. Perhaps Luca has heard something. It may be well if I go to the studio at once to find out.”

      He took up his hat and went to the door. Just as he opened it, Fabio’s servant confronted him on the thresh old.

      “I am sent to summon you to the palace,” said the man. “The doctors have given up all hope.”

      Father Rocco turned deadly pale, and drew back a step. “Have you told my brother of this?” he asked.

      “I was just on my way to the studio,” answered the servant.

      “I will go there instead of you, and break the bad news to him,” said the priest.

      They descended the stairs in silence. Just as they were about to separate at the street door, Father Rocco stopped the servant.

      “How is the child?” he asked, with such sudden eagerness and impatience, that the man looked quite startled as he answered that the child was perfectly well.

      “There is some consolation in that,” said Father Rocco, walking away, and speaking partly to the servant, partly to himself. “My caution has misled me,” he continued, pausing thoughtfully when he was left alone in the roadway. “I should have risked using the mother’s influence sooner to procure the righteous restitution. All hope of compassing it now rests on the life of the child. Infant СКАЧАТЬ