a mortal antipathy-第46章

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There　was　an　old　gypsy　who　had　the　reputation　of　knowing　more　of

futurity　than　she　had　any　right　to　know。　　The　story　was　that　she　had

foretold　the　assassination　of　Count　Rossi　and　the　death　of　Cavour。



However　that　may　have　been；　I　was　persuaded　to　let　her　try　her　black

art　upon　my　future。　　I　shall　never　forget　the　strange；　wild　look　of

the　wrinkled　hag　as　she　took　my　hand　and　studied　its　lines　and　fixed

her　wicked　old　eyes　on　my　young　countenance。　　After　this　examination

she　shook　her　head　and　muttered　some　words；　which　as　nearly　as　I

could　get　them　would　be　in　English　like　these：



　　　　　Fair　lady　cast　a　spell　on　thee；

　　　　　Fair　lady's　hand　shall　set　thee　free。



Strange　as　it　may　seem；　these　words　of　a　withered　old　creature；　whose

palm　had　to　be　crossed　with　silver　to　bring　forth　her　oracular

response；　have　always　clung　to　my　memory　as　if　they　were　destined　to

fulfilment。　　The　extraordinary　nature　of　the　affliction　to　which　I

was　subject　disposed　me　to　believe　the　incredible　with　reference　to

all　that　relates　to　it。　　I　have　never　ceased　to　have　the　feeling

that；　sooner　or　later；　I　should　find　myself　freed　from　the　blight

laid　upon　me　in　my　infancy。　　It　seems　as　if　it　would　naturally　come

through　the　influence　of　some　young　and　fair　woman；　to　whom　that

merciful　errand　should　be　assigned　by　the　Providence　that　governs　our

destiny。　　With　strange　hopes；　with　trembling　fears；　with　mingled

belief　and　doubt；　wherever　I　have　found　myself　I　have　sought　with

longing　yet　half…averted　eyes　for　the　〃elect　lady；〃　as　I　have　learned

to　call　her；　who　was　to　lift　the　curse　from　my　ruined　life。



Three　times　I　have　been　led　to　the　hope；　if　not　the　belief；　that　I

had　found　the　object　of　my　superstitious　belief。　Singularly　enough

it　was　always　on　the　water　that　the　phantom　of　my　hope　appeared

before　my　bewildered　vision。　　Once　it　was　an　English　girl　who　was　a

fellow　passenger　with　me　in　one　of　my　ocean　voyages。　　I　need　not　say

that　she　was　beautiful；　for　she　was　my　dream　realized。　　I　heard　her

singing；　I　saw　her　walking　the　deck　on　some　of　the　fair　days　when

sea…sickness　was　forgotten。　　The　passengers　were　a　social　company

enough；　but　I　had　kept　myself　apart；　as　was　my　wont。　　At　last　the

attraction　became　too　strong　to　resist　any　longer。　　〃I　will　venture

into　the　charmed　circle　if　it　kills　me；〃　I　said　to　my　father。　　I　did

venture；　and　it　did　not　kill　me；　or　I　should　not　be　telling　this

story。　　But　there　was　a　repetition　of　the　old　experiences。　　I　need

not　relate　the　series　of　alarming　consequences　of　my　venture。　　The

English　girl　was　very　lovely；　and　I　have　no　doubt　has　made　some　one

supremely　happy　before　this；　but　she　was　not　the　〃elect　lady〃　of　the

prophecy　and　of　my　dreams。



A　second　time　I　thought　myself　for　a　moment　in　the　presence　of　the

destined　deliverer　who　was　to　restore　me　to　my　natural　place　among　my

fellow　men　and　women。　　It　was　on　the　Tiber　that　I　met　the　young

maiden　who　drew　me　once　more　into　that　inner　circle　which　surrounded

young　womanhood　with　deadly　peril　for　me；　if　I　dared　to　pass　its

limits。　　I　was　floating　with　the　stream　in　the　little　boat　in　which　I

passed　many　long　hours　of　reverie　when　I　saw　another　small　boat　with

a　boy　and　a　young　girl　in　it。　　The　boy　had　been　rowing；　and　one　of

his　oars　had　slipped　from　his　grasp。　　He　did　not　know　how　to　paddle

with　a　single　oar；　and　was　hopelessly　rowing　round　and　round；　his　oar

all　the　time　floating　farther　away　from　him。　　I　could　not　refuse　my

assistance。　　I　picked　up　the　oar　and　brought　my　skiff　alongside　of

the　boat。　　When　I　handed　the　oar　to　the　boy　the　young　girl　lifted　her

veil　and　thanked　me　in　the　exquisite　music　of　the　language　which



　　　　　'Sounds　as　if　it　should　be　writ　on　satin。〃



She　was　a　type　of　Italian　beauty；a　nocturne　in　flesh　and　blood；　if

I　may　borrow　a　term　certain　artists　are　fond　of；　but　it　was　her　voice

which　captivated　me　and　for　a　moment　made　me　believe　that　I　was　no

longer　shut　off　from　all　relations　with　the　social　life　of　my　race。

An　hour　later　I　was　found　lying　insensible　on　the　floor　of　my　boat；

white；　cold；　almost　pulseless。　　It　cost　much　patient　labor　to　bring

me　back　to　consciousness。　　Had　not　such　extreme　efforts　been　made；　it

seems　probable　that　I　should　never　have　waked　from　a　slumber　which

was　hardly　distinguishable　from　that　of　death。





Why　should　I　provoke　a　catastrophe　which　appears　inevitable　if　I

invite　it　by　exposing　myself　to　its　too　well　ascertained　cause？　　The

habit　of　these　deadly　seizures　has　become　a　second　nature。　　The

strongest　and　the　ablest　men　have　found　it　impossible　to　resist　the

impression　produced　by　the　most　insignificant　object；　by　the　most

harmless　sight　or　sound　to　which　they　had　a　congenital　or　acquired

antipathy。　　What　prospect　have　I　of　ever　being　rid　of　this　long　and

deep…seated　infirmity？　　I　may　well　ask　myself　these　questions；　but　my

answer　is　that　I　will　never　give　up　the　hope　that　time　will　yet　bring

its　remedy。　　It　may　be　that　the　wild　prediction　which　so　haunts　me

shall　find　itself　fulfilled。　　I　have　had　of　late　strange

premonitions；　to　which　if　I　were　superstitious　I　could　not　help

giving　heed。　　But　I　have　seen　too　much　of　the　faith　that　deals　in

miracles　to　accept　the　supernatural　in　any　shape；assuredly　when　it

comes　from　an　old　witch…like　creature　who　takes　pay　for　her

revelations　of　the　future。　　Be　it　so：　though　I　am　not　superstitious；

I　have　a　right　to　be　imaginative；　and　my　imagination　will　hold　to

those　words　of　the　old　zingara　with　an　irresistible　feeling　that；

sooner　or　later；　they　will　prove　true。



Can　it　be　possible　that　her　prediction　is　not　far　from　its

realization？　　I　have　had　both　waking　and　sleeping　visions　within

these　last　months　and　weeks　which　have　taken　possession　of　me　and

filled　my　life　with　new　thoughts；　new　hopes；　new　resolves。



Sometimes　on　the　bosom　of　the　lake　by　which　I　am　dreaming　away　this

season　of　bloom　and　fragrance；　sometimes　in　the　fields　or　woods　in　a

distant　glimpse；　once　in　a　nearer　glance；　which　left　me　pale　and

tremulous；　yet　was　followed　by　a　swift　reaction；　so　that　my　cheeks

flushed　and　my　pulse　bounded；　I　have　seen　her　whohow　do　I　dare　to

tell　it　so　that　my　own　eyes　can　read　it？…I　cannot　help　believing　is

to　be　my　deliverer；　my　saviour。



I　have　been　warned　in　the　most　solemn　and　impressive　language　by　the

experts　most　deeply　read　in　the　laws　of　life　and　the　history　of　its

disturbing　and　destroying　influences；　that　it　would　be　at　the

imminent　risk　of　my　existence　if　I　should　expose　myself　to　the

repetition　of　my　former　experiences。　　I　was　reminded　that　unexplained

sudden　deaths　were　of　constant；　of　daily　occurrence；　that　any　emotion

is　liable　to　arrest　the　movements　of　life：　terror；　joy；　good　news　or

bad　news；anything　that　reaches　the　deeper　nervous　centres。　　I　had

already　died　once；　as　Sir　Charles　Napier　said　of　himself；　yes；　more

than　once；　died　and　been　resuscitated。　　The　next　time；　I　might　very

probably　fail　to　get　my　return　ticket　after　my　visit　to　Hades。　　It

was　a　rather　grim　stroke　of　humor；　but　I　understood　its　meaning　full

well；　and　felt　the　force　of　its　menace。



After　all；　what　had　I　to　live　for　if　the　great　primal　instinct　which

strives　to　make　whole　the　half　life　of　lonely　manhood　is　defeated；

suppressed；　crushed　out　of　existence？　　Why　not　as　well　die　in　the

attempt　to　break　up　a　wretched　servitude　to　a　perverted　nervous

movement　as　in　any　other　way？　　I　am　alone　in　the　world；alone　save

for　my　faithful　servant；　through　whom　I　seem　to　hold　to　the　human

race　as　it　were　by　a　single　filament。　　My　father；　who　was　my

instructor；　my　companion；　my　dearest　and　best　friend　through　all　my

later　youth　and　my　earlier　manhood；　died　three　years　ago　and　left　me

my　own　master；　with　the　means　of　living　as　might　best　please　my

fancy。　　This　season　shall　decide　my　fate。　　One　more　experiment；　and　I

shall　find　myself　restored　to　my　place　among　my　fellow…beings；　or；　as

I　devoutly　hope；　in