CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

[Pg 1]

THE DUCHESS IN DANGER.

It was night—the Duchess was in bed. Her hand shaded her wakeful eyes from the light of a silver lamp fed with perfumed oil, which shone only on what was calculated to please the taste, minister to the luxury, and display the wealth of the owner. Rare paintings of Scriptural and mythological subjects decorated the walls, the ceiling was richly moulded and gilt, the floor of polished marble was only partially covered with fine matting, a few choice statuettes and vases occupied brackets and niches; the massive toilette service and [Pg 2]mirror-frame of precious metal were shaded by some texture of light silvery tissue; while half-open cabinets and caskets revealed priceless jewels and fragrant perfumes. On a velvet cushion lay an illuminated missal and a rosary.

Here was every outward appliance, one might think, to make a favourite of fortune happy; but the good and honest face of the Duchess, which spoke her every thought, did not look so. The night was sultry; she had tried to sleep, but could not; and now she was feverishly endeavouring to think of something pleasant, without success.

The deep stone windows of her apartment, which were open, commanded a small garden sleeping in the moonlight, where terraces were cut on a declivity; and where Cupid and Psyche, Diana with her hounds, and Apollo with his bow, gleamed white among orange, lemon, and myrtle. This little pleasaunce was [Pg 3]shut in within the walls of a strong baronial castle; and beyond them lay the little town of Fondi, consisting of a single street built on the Appian Way. Beyond it, a lake, a forest, a marsh, stretching down to the blue brimming Mediterranean. The little town seemed steeped in sleep: the silence was intense.

All at once, a low, regular sound jarred on the Duchess's quickened ear.

"That's a very unaccountable noise," thought she to herself. "I wonder what it is. People are about, who ought to be in their beds. If it continues, I shall ring up the Mother-of-the-maids. Now it has stopped. I wish I were not so wakeful—how tiresome it is!

"What could induce Isabella to write me that disagreeable letter? I fancy the Prince of Sulmona had a hand in it. It is very hard, after the Pope's substantiating my rights as he has done, and bringing me through with a high hand, that I should be assailed in a fresh [Pg 4]quarter. How sorry Rodomonte would have been! Poor fellow, he loved us both so dearly! And if ever a step-mother did her duty by a step-daughter, I did mine by Isabella. But there was too little difference in our ages. She presumed on my forbearance, and tried to domineer over me. I dare say many people fancy the life of a rich young widow must needs be very happy. Some were even stupid enough to think my dear Duke and I could not be as happy as we seemed. Oh, yes, we were!—though he was forty and I but thirteen.

"Supposing I had been over-persuaded to have Ippolito, how different would have been the story of our lives! Happier for him, possibly, but he may be very well content to be a cardinal. At the same time I have somehow suspected that if ever any one really valued me for myself, he did. They all flatter too much. A flattered person is the tool of the flatterer. It hurts one's mind——

[Pg 5]

"That noise again! Can it be Caterina snoring? She says she never does: just as if she could hear herself! Whatever it is, I'll have it inquired into. Caterina! Caterina! Cynthia! Cynthia!"

At the sound of the Duchess's voice, two of her attendants came running in from the antechamber. One of them was a withered old woman with a very benevolent face and thin grey hair fastened at the top of her head in a little knot about as big as an egg, with a bodkin: the other a Moorish girl, with large, startled, lustrous eyes, and symmetrical as one of Calypso's nymphs moulded in bronze. She was in a single white garment, but had caught up a striped goat's hair haik, which by day formed the upper part of her attire.

"Did Leila call?" "What will your Vossignoria?"

"I called because I could bear your snoring no longer, Caterina."

[Pg 6]

"I snore?" repeated Caterina, with a look of injured innocence. "Vossignoria must surely be mistaken; for I was lying wide awake, with Cynthia sleeping beside me, as quiet as a lamb."

"You were dreaming that you were awake," said the Duchess. "I have not once closed my eyes, nor has it been possible—Hark! there is the noise again!" cried she, excitedly. "What on earth can it be?"

They remained transfixed, with suspended breath, in various attitudes of surprise and affright; each of them intently listening.

"I hear nothing, Eccellenza," began Caterina.

"There! there!" exclaimed the Duchess.

Cynthia suddenly sprang to one of the open windows, and looked out—then, clapped her hands to her head, and gave an unearthly yell.

"What is it?" cried Caterina, hastening towards her, and peering forth into the darkness. Then, shrieking, she exclaimed,——"The pirates are upon us!"

[Pg 7]

"Balzo dal letto."[1]—The Duchess sprang from her bed, and took one hasty glance from the window. She could discern a string of turbaned figures with gleaming scimitars swarming up the walls, and leaping down on the inner side.

[1] "Come lupi famelici entrarono in Fondi que' barbari, destandovi tra gli ululati degli abitanti un tumulto indicibile. Il fremito de' ribaldi assalitori, le grida degli assaliti che assordavano l' aria, ruppero a Giulia il sonno, e mentre palpitando e incerta iva pensando qual potesse essere la cagione di tanto rumore, eccole i pallidi famiglieri col tristo annunzio che i Turchi scorrevano l' occupata città, e che non vi era tempo a perdere se bramava salvarsi dalle indegne loro mani. Balzo dal letto," &c., &c.—Ireneo Affo, Memorie di tre Principesse, &c.

"We are undone!" exclaimed she, desperately. "Caterina! arouse the men! Cynthia, help me to dress."

Wild sounds were already heard on every side, both in the town and the castle—alarm-bells ringing, hoarse war-cries, piercing screams—Hayraddin Barbarossa was upon them!

What a plunder! There was the town, to [Pg 8]begin with; then, there was the castle; and within the castle, the most beautiful and beloved lady in all Italy! the friend and favourite of popes and princes; a princess herself, enormously rich! What a ransom!

But no ransom was the object of Hayraddin Barbarossa, the scourge of the seas. He meant to carry her away captive to Solyman the Magnificent, Emperor of the Turks. With this purpose, and no less, had Hayraddin been hovering off the coast with a hundred galleys and two thousand Turks on board,[2] terrifying the Neapolitans out of their wits at the very thought of his red beard and red flag—he, who avowed himself "the friend of the sea, and the foe of all who sailed upon it"—whose very name was a word of fear from the Straits of Gibraltar to the Dardanelles![3]

[2] "Piena l' Italia e l' Europa fosse di quanto iva spargendo la fama intorno le singolare bellezze di Giulia; erane passato anche il grido ai molli regni dell' Asia. Solimano II., Imperadore de' Turchi, non ignorava quanto ella fosse avvenente; onde giacchè avea guerra coll' Imperador Carlo V., fornito Ariadene Barbarossa di cento galere, con ciu potesse trascorrere i mari nostri, e battere le coste de paesi Christiani, gl' ingiunse che tra le spoglie più rieche, onde carico lo attendeva, dovesse aver luogo la vagha Signora di Fondi. Fece plauso al comando il baldanzoso corsaro, che, avido di riportar gloria, al mare affidosi pien di si audace pensiero," &c.—Idem.

[Pg 9]

[3] Robertson's "Charles the Fifth."

"They will be upon us directly, Signora," said her trembling, grey-haired seneschal, who had hastened to her at the first alarm. "Lose no time in escaping. The pirates will never content themselves with the town—rely on it, you are their object. We will lower you from the window—you must then cross the draw-bridge, and pass through the gallery cut in the rock. It will bring you out on the hill-side, where Tiberio shall join you with horses—"

"Come, then, Caterina—"

"Alas, Madama, I am too old for jumping out of windows—I will remain to secrete the [Pg 10]jewels, and look after the maids. We will lock ourselves in the cellars."

"Come then, Cynthia. Be quick."

Cynthia, who was wrapping herself in her haik, looked unwilling, and said:

"May I not remain with Caterina, Leila?"

"Certainly not. Jump out of window this instant, and then you can help me down."

The Duchess accelerated her by a slight push, on which she sprang lightly as a chamois to the ground, which was not far below; and the Duchess, seeing she came to no harm, called on the saints, and did the same. Caterina lowered them a lamp, which they covered, and soon they were in the rocky passage, while the Turks in the distance were howling like hungry wolves or mad dogs.[4]

[4] "Lupi famelici," "colla rabbia d' affamati cani."

"How cold it is!" complained the Duchess, shivering and drawing closer the richly furred velvet mantle in which she was enveloped.

[Pg 11]

"And you gave me no stockings, Cynthia, only slippers. How could you be so foolish?"

"You must not mind that, Leila, since you are safe," said Cynthia, bluntly. "Think what horrors are going on in the town. Holy prophet! it reminds me of the night when my parents fled from the Spaniards!"

"Cynthia, it is very wicked of you to use those heathenish imprecations, now that I have taken the trouble to have you baptised. Your prophet was not holy, nor a prophet at all, but a very bad man, as I have told you several times, and you must not be so benighted any more."

Cynthia's eyes flashed fire, but she held her peace.

"If you call any one holy," continued the Duchess, "it should be the blessed Virgin and holy saints. You ought to consider it a great mercy that you have been led to the service of [Pg 12]a Christian mistress who cares for your soul. Don't you feel this?"

"No," said Cynthia, stoutly; "I do not feel grateful that I was torn from my home and country, and that my father was cut down on his own doorstep, and my mother dragged along the ground by the hair of her head. Could you feel grateful, Leila?"

"Not for those things, certainly; but misfortunes are often blessings in disguise, and the Moors are very wicked people, and—"

"They are doing those very things, just now, to your people," said Cynthia, expressively, and stretching out her arm towards the town.

"Ah! Heaven forbid!" said the Duchess.

"Heaven does not forbid, though," said Cynthia, sorrowfully, "and I cannot think why Heaven only looks on."

"Cynthia!" cried the Duchess, suddenly stopping short, and fixing a piercing look [Pg 13]on her, "did you bring these people on us?"

"What people, Leila?"

"These pirates!—these Moors!"

"Take the lamp!" cried Cynthia, thrusting it into her hand, and stamping passionately. "Kill me if you will, since you can suspect me! Here's a dagger—I brought it to defend you and myself."

"Nay, but I do not want to suspect you. Put up your dagger, foolish girl. Who talks about killing?" said the Duchess, shrinking from the gleaming steel. "Speak but the word and I will believe you; only, as they are countrymen of yours, and as you so hate the Christians, the thought just crossed me."

"I'll never speak the word," said Cynthia, stubbornly. "You may kill me if you will, but I'll never say!"

And with dilated nostrils, quivering lips, and [Pg 14]flaming eyes, she strode on before her mistress. It was not a time or place for the Duchess to take notice of it—to a woman with a dagger!

[Pg 15]

CHAPTER II.

THE DUCHESS IN SAFETY.

Emerging from the gallery, the Duchess uttered a faint cry, and would have shrunk back again on seeing some dark figures stealthily approaching; but they proved to be only two of her own servants, each with a led horse, on which she and Cynthia were speedily mounted, and on their way to Vallecorsa.

Meantime a desperate conflict was raging in the town and castle, led on by the fiery Barbarossa himself, his lieutenant Dragut, and the renegade Sinan, the most relentless of his corsairs. Again and again resounds the cry "Where is the Duchess, ye Christian dogs?"—"Out of your reach!" they shout back; and a volley of stones descends from the battlements. [Pg 16] Defence is vain; the gates are forced in, the assailants pour through the rooms, and, disappointed of their prey, hack and spoil the rich furniture, and carry off what comes ready to hand. Faithful retainers are cut down; others have their hands tied and are carried off to be sold into slavery; among them, a youth called Tebaldo Adimari, the pride and hope of Fondi.

Day was breaking when the corsairs, laden with booty, drew off from the town in good order and formidable numbers, leaving very few of their party behind them. The little town was sick and gasping. Here and there were low wails and continuous sobbings in-doors. Here and there a hollow groan from some ditch. Here and there a broken scimitar, an unrolled turban, a pool of blood. Monks now began to steal forth in couples from the Dominican convent in which St. Thomas Aquinas had taught theology. They [Pg 17]went to shrive the dying, bury the dead, and console the bereaved. A Jewish physician, with a couple of Hebrew servants, was also engaged in offices of benevolence; causing some to be carefully removed; binding up the wounds of others on the spot. The peril of the Duchess—though she escaped unscathed—caused great commiseration and excitement at the time. The death and captivity of the nobodies elicited a slight shudder or a shrug, and was passed over.

Cautiously the withered face of the Mother-of-the-maids peered forth from the cellar-door when all was quiet; and fearfully issued forth the train of scared, bewildered females who had taken shelter under her wing. They were relieved to find themselves alive and safe; but lamentations soon succeeded gratulations. Isaura's betrothed had been carried away captive; Tonina's father lay stark and stiff. As for the cameriera, she was weeping herself [Pg 18]blind to find the Duchess's room ransacked, the mirror smashed, the gowns tossed like hay, the pictures stabbed, and many of the properties made booty of. She smote her breast and wrung her hands to that degree that it was dreadful to see her.

The news of the attack reaching Rome, Cardinal Ippolito de' Medici, who was much more of a warrior than a churchman, hastened to the rescue with a troop of horse.

Meanwhile, a messenger from Vallecorsa brought a billet from the Duchess.

"Are the wretches gone? Have they done much harm? I have nothing to put on. Is anybody hurt? I suppose I may come back?"

As everybody was at sixes and sevens without the Duchess, a council was held, the Dominican prior was consulted, evidence was heard, and it was finally reported that the Paynims had made off, viâ Itri, and put to sea.

[Pg 19]

On this, back came the Duchess, in very miscellaneous toilette; and she was met by a general turn-out of the people of Fondi—a rough, wild-looking set at their best, poor creatures! furnishing more than their due quota, then as now, to the briganti. In the midst were two biers, supporting the corpses of men who had been slain in the late attack, and borne by monks, while the populace confusedly pressed around them, beating their breasts, tearing their hair, and filling the air with their lamentations. These were redoubled at sight of the Duchess, whose tender heart melted at the scene. The sight of their liege-lady in tears redoubled their woe; they closed round her, kissing her dress, hands, and feet, recounting their losses, and each doing his possible to prove himself more in want of solace than the rest. She condoled with all, promised monetary restitution to the living and masses for the dead; and, to crown all, [Pg 20]proceeded straight to church to give thanks for her deliverance and pray for the souls of the slain. Then she

re-entered her castle in a chastened frame of mind.

"Caterina," said she to her old nurse, "how little we know what a few hours may bring forth! It seems an age since yesterday. What a turn it gave me when Cynthia first shrieked out! By the way, do you think she was really frightened?"

"Really frightened, Eccellenza?"

"Yes. Do you not think it possible she might be glad the Moors were landing and might carry her off?"

"Barbarossa, Signora?"

"Well, I know it was Barbarossa; but still he was her own countryman, and—"

"I do not think she would acknowledge Barbarossa for a countryman, Illustrissima. She claims descent from the old Moors of Grenada—from the Abencerrages."

[Pg 21]

"Oh, yes, she may claim descent, and call herself a princess and all that. They all do, I believe. You should have seen her look when I told her Mahound was a false prophet—"

"She's very touchy about that, I well know," said Caterina.

"Touchy? Why, I believe she prays to him still—swears by him at any rate. There is no sounding the depths of these Paynims."

"I believe you would find great love for yourself in the depths of Cynthia's heart,—poor, darkened young thing—if you could sound it, Signora."

"Ah, but unfortunately, I cannot; and she behaved very improperly to me in the cavern."

"You shock me, Illustrissima!"

"She thrust the lamp into my hand, saying: 'Hold the light!' and stamped!"

"Inconceivable! Abominable!" ejaculated Caterina. "What could she have been thinking of?"

[Pg 22]

"And she brandished a dagger! Not to kill me, but telling me to kill her. So uncalled for!"

"I fear I must give her up," said Caterina, "though Perez lent her the dagger to defend you, and she has returned it. I was beginning to grow fond of her. She must be corrected, Signora."

"Well, truly, I think she must. Let me speak to her first. I dare say she is as hard as a stone. Call her."

To the Duchess's surprise, when Cynthia was brought to the bar of justice, and accused of lèse-majesté, she at once pleaded guilty, saying her proud heart sometimes got the better of her; and kneeling down, kissed the hem of her mistress's garment, in token of submission. This appeased the placable Giulia, who contented herself with asking what business she had with pride.

"You doubted my fidelity, Leila," said [Pg 23]Cynthia. "No one must doubt the fidelity of an Abencerrage."

"Tut! how do I know that you are an Abencerrage?" said the Duchess lightly. "And what are the Abencerrages, or any other Moors, in the eyes of Christians?"

"They may be nothing now, but they were something once," said Cynthia proudly; without rising, however, from her knees; or rather, sitting upon her heels. "While the western Caliphate lasted, the Christians were few and straggling in the land; and the mountains of Spain echoed back the cry of the muezzins: 'There is no God but God, and Mahomet is his prophet!'"

"Ah, profanity!" exclaimed the Duchess, in disgust; and at the same instant, her seneschal, bowing low, announced to her the arrival of Cardinal Ippolito de' Medici. The Cardinal was already standing in the doorway, noting at his leisure, and with admiration, [Pg 24]the contrast between Giulia's high-born beauty and that of the dusky Moorish girl at her feet.

He then advanced, with the mien of a prince and the tread of a soldier, and said:

"Your peril compelled me to fly to your succour. I have brought a troop of horse, and will not leave you till danger and alarm be past."

"How very good of you!" said the Duchess. "I was, indeed, sorely scared—"

"Fear no more," said he. "No harm shall reach you but through myself."

"How very good of you," repeated the Duchess. "I was, indeed, as I said, sorely scared; but all danger, and even the fear of it, is now over—"

"That is more than you can tell," interrupted the Cardinal, "and since you, the noblest and fairest lady in Italy, are so utterly unprotected, I shall make your [Pg 25]safety my care as long as Barbarossa is off the coast."