The Adventures of Ferdinand Count Fathom — Complete
would expose him to the insults of Trebasi, yet, as he could not
contrive a better, he acquiesced in Renaldo’s invention, with the
proviso that he would defer the execution of it until his father-in-law
should be absent in the chase, which was a diversion he every day
enjoyed.
Accordingly they set a proper watch, and lay concealed until they were
informed of Trebasi’s having gone forth; when they mounted their
horses, and rode into the neighbourhood of the castle. Having made a
small excursion in the adjoining fields, they drew nearer the walls,
and at an easy pace had twice circled them, when Farrel descried, at
the top of a tower, a white handkerchief waved by a woman’s hand
through the iron bars that secured the window. This signal being
pointed out to Renaldo, his heart began to throb with great violence;
he made a respectful obeisance towards the part in which it appeared,
and perceiving the hand beckoning him to approach, advanced to the very
buttress of the turret; upon which, seeing something drop, he alighted
with great expedition, and took up a picture of his father in
miniature, the features of which he no sooner distinguished, than the
tears ran down his cheeks; he pressed the little image to his lips with
the most filial fervour; then conveying it to his bosom, looked up to
the hand, which waved in such a manner as gave him to understand it was
high time to retire. Being by this time highly persuaded that his kind
monitor was no other than the Countess herself, he pointed to his
heart, in token of his filial affection, and laying his hand on his
sword, to denote his resolution of doing her justice, he took his leave
with another profound bow, and suffered himself to be reconducted to
his lodging.
Every circumstance of this transaction was observed by the servants of
Count Trebasi, who immediately despatched a messenger to their lord,
with an account of what had happened. Alarmed at this information, from
which he immediately concluded that the stranger was young Melvil, he
forthwith quitted the chase, and returning to the castle by a private
postern, ordered his horse to be kept ready saddled, in hope that his
son-in-law would repeat the visit to his mother. This precaution would
have been to no purpose, had Renaldo followed the advice of Farrel, who
represented the danger of returning to a place where the alarm was
undoubtedly given by his first appearance; and exhorted him to return
to Vienna for the prosecution of his suit, now that he was satisfied of
his mother’s being alive. In order to strengthen this admonition, he
bade him recollect the signal for withdrawing, which was doubtless the
effect of maternal concern, inspired by the knowledge of the Count’s
vigilance and vindictive disposition.
Notwithstanding these suggestions, Melvil persisted in his resolution
of appearing once more below the tower, on the supposition that his
mother, in expectation of his return, had prepared a billet for his
acceptance, from which he might obtain important intelligence. The
Major, seeing him lend a deaf ear to his remonstrances, was contented
to attend him in his second expedition, which he pressed him to
undertake that same afternoon, as Trebasi had taken care to circulate a
report of his having gone to dine at the seat of a nobleman in the
neighbourhood. Our knight-errant and his squire, deceived by this
finesse, presented themselves again under the prison of the Countess,
who no sooner beheld her son return, than she earnestly entreated him
to be gone, by the same sign which she had before used; and he, taking
it for granted that she was debarred the use of pen, ink, and paper,
and that she had nothing more to expect, consented to retire, and had
already moved to some distance from the house, when, in crossing a
small plantation that belonged to the castle, they were met by Count
Trebasi and another person on horseback.
At sight of this apparition, the blood mounted into Renaldo’s cheeks,
and his eyes began to lighten with eagerness and indignation; which was
not at all diminished by the ferocious address of the Count, who
advancing to Melvil, with a menacing air. “Before you proceed,” said
he, “I must know with what view you have been twice to-day patroling
round my enclosures, and reconnoitring the different avenues of my
house. You likewise carry on a clandestine correspondence with some
person in the family, of which my honour obliges me to demand an
explanation.”
“Had your actions been always regulated by the dictates of honour,”
replied Renaldo, “I should never have been questioned for riding round
that castle, which you know is my rightful inheritance; or excluded
from the sight of a parent who suffers under your tyranny and
oppression. It is my part, therefore, to expostulate; and, since
fortune hath favoured me with an opportunity of revenging our wrongs in
person, we shall not part until you have learned that the family of the
Count de Melvil is not to be injured with impunity. Here is no
advantage on either side, in point of arms or number; you are better
mounted than I am, and shall have the choice of the ground on which our
difference ought to be brought to a speedy determination.”
Trebasi, whose courage was not of the sentimental kind, but purely
owing to his natural insensibility of danger, instead of concerting
measures coolly for the engagement, or making any verbal reply to this
defiance, drew a pistol, without the least hesitation, and fired it at
the face of Renaldo, part of whose left eyebrow was carried off by the
ball. Melvil was not slow in returning the compliment, which, as it was
deliberate, proved the more decisive. For the shot entering the Count’s
right breast, made its way to the backbone with such a shock, as struck
him to the ground; upon which the other alighted, in order to improve
the advantage he had gained.
During this transaction, Farrel had well-nigh lost his life by the
savage behaviour of Trebasi’s attendant, who had been a hussar officer,
and who, thinking it was his duty to imitate the example of his patron
on this occasion, discharged a pistol at the Major, before he had the
least intimation of his design. The Hibernian’s horse being a common
hireling, and unaccustomed to stand fire, no sooner saw the flash of
Trebasi’s pistol, than, starting aside, he happened to plunge into a
hole, and was overturned at the very instant when the hussar’s piece
went off, so that no damage ensued to his rider, who, pitching on his
feet, flew with great nimbleness to his adversary, then, laying hold on
one leg, dismounted him in a twinkling, and, seizing his throat as he
lay, would have soon despatched him without the use of firearms, had he
not been prevented by his friend Renaldo, who desired him to desist,
observing that his vengeance was already satisfied, as the Count seemed
to be in the agonies of death. The Major was loth to quit his prey, as
he thought his aggressor had acted in a treacherous manner; but
recollecting that there was no time to lose, because, in all
probability, the firing had alarmed the castle, he took his leave of
the vanquished hussar, with a couple of hearty kicks, and, mounting his
horse, followed Melvil to the house of a gentleman in the
neighbourhood, who was kinsman to the Countess, and very well disposed
to grant him a secure retreat, until the troublesome consequences of
this rencontre should be overblown.
Trebasi, though to the young gentleman he seemed speechless and
insensible, had neither lost the use of his reason nor of his tongue,
but affected that extremity, in order to avoid any further conversation
with the victor. He was one of those people who never think of death
until he knocks at the door, and then earnestly entreat him to excuse
them for the present, and be so good as to call another time. The Count
had so often escaped unhurt, in the course of his campaigns, that he
looked upon himself as invulnerable, and set all danger at defiance.
Though he had hitherto taken no care of the concerns of his soul, he
had a large fund of superstition at bottom; and, when the surgeon, who
examined his wound, declared it was mortal, all the terrors of futurity
took hold on his imagination, all the misdemeanours of his life
presented themselves in aggravated colours to his recollection.
He implored the spiritual assistance of a good priest in the
neighbourhood, who, in the discharge of his own conscience, gave him to
understand that he had little mercy to expect, unless he would, as much
as lay in his power, redress the injuries he had done to his
fellow-creatures. As nothing lay heavier upon his soul than the cruelty
and fraud he had practised upon the family of Count Melvil, he
earnestly besought this charitable clergyman to mediate his pardon with
the Countess, and at the same time desired to see Renaldo before his
death, that he might put him in possession of his paternal estate, and
solicit his forgiveness for the offence he had given.
His lady, far from waiting for the priest’s intercession, no sooner
understood the lamentable situation of her husband, and found herself
at liberty, than she hastened to his apartment, expressed the utmost
concern for his misfortune, and tended him with truly conjugal
tenderness and fidelity. Her son gladly obeyed the summons, and was
received with great civility and satisfaction by his father-in-law,
who, in presence of the judge and divers gentlemen assembled for that
purpose, renounced all right and title to the fortune he had so
unjustly usurped; disclosed the name of the convent to which
Mademoiselle de Melvil had been conveyed, dismissed all the agents of
his iniquity, and being reconciled to his son-in-law, began to prepare
himself in tranquillity for his latter end.
The Countess was overwhelmed with an excess of joy, while she embraced
her long-lost son, who had proved himself so worthy of his father. Yet
this joy was embittered, by reflecting that she was made a widow by the
hands of that darling son. For, though she knew his honour demanded the
sacrifice, she could not lay aside that regard and veneration which is
attached to the name of husband; and therefore resolved to retire into
a monastery, where she could spend the remainder of her life in
devotion, without being exposed to any intercourse which might
interfere with the delicacy of her sentiments on that subject.
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
HE IS THE MESSENGER OF HAPPINESS TO HIS SISTER, WHO REMOVES THE FILM
WHICH HAD LONG OBSTRUCTED HIS PENETRATION, WITH REGARD TO COUNT FATHOM.
As the most endearing affection had always subsisted between Renaldo
and his sister, he would not one moment deny himself the pleasure of
flying to her embrace, and of being the glad messenger of her
deliverance. Soon, therefore, as he understood the place of her
retreat, and had obtained a proper order to the abbess, signed by Count
Trebasi, he set out post for Vienna, still accompanied by his faithful
Hibernian, and, arriving at the convent, found the abbess and the whole
house so engrossed in making preparations for the ceremony of giving
the veil next day to a young woman who had fulfilled the term of her
probation, that he could not possibly see his sister with that leisure
and satisfaction which he had flattered himself with enjoying at this
meeting; and therefore he was fain to bridle his impatience for two
days, and keep his credentials until the hurry should be over, that
Mademoiselle might have no intimation of her good fortune, except from
his own mouth.
In order to fill up this tedious interval, he visited his friends at
court, who were rejoiced to hear the happy issue of his excursion to
Presburg; the prince, who was his particular patron, desired he would