Tales for Young and Old | Page 2

bargain with the treacherous De Monge was, that if he made
away with the life of Madame Louison while on the journey, and before
she could communicate with her husband, he was to be at liberty to
carry off all her baggage, which contained valuable articles to a large
amount. The Italian stipulated that his wife, dressed in male attire, and
a lad on whom he could depend, should accompany him.
Everything being settled, the morning of departure arrived. Adelaide
had not seen her travelling companions till they with the carriage, into
which she was handed by Mazzuolo, with all the deference that her
beauty and elegant attire might naturally command. She wore a black
velvet bonnet and Chantilly veil, a crimson silk pelisse trimmed with
rich furs, a boa of Russian sable; and, over all, a loose pelisse, lined
with fur. Mazzuolo and his wife thought that this augured well for the
contents of her trunks.

The length of the journey, the dangers of the road, and the goodness or
badness of the inns they should have to rest at, formed the subjects of
conversation for the first hour or two. The stage was very long, and it
was eleven o'clock before they reached their first relay of horses, by
which time the young traveller had decided that she had great reason to
be satisfied with her companions. The Italian was polite and
entertaining; he had travelled a great deal, and was full of anecdote; and
being naturally lively and garrulous, the design he entertained of taking
away the life of his charge did not prevent his making himself
agreeable to her in the meantime. With his well-seared conscience, he
neither felt nervous nor saturnine at the prospect of what was before
him--why should he indeed?--for the only part of the prospect he fixed
his eye upon was the gain; the little operation by means of which it was
to be acquired, he did not think very seriously of; besides, he did not
intend to perform it himself.
When they stopped to change horses, a lad of about seventeen years of
age, named Karl, nephew of Mazzuolo's wife, came to the carriage door:
he seemed to have been waiting for them. Mazzuolo spoke to him aside
for some minutes, and when they started again, the youth mounted in
front of the carriage. The Italian said he was a lad they had engaged to
look after the luggage, and be useful on the journey. He was, in fact,
one who was hired to do any piece of work, good or bad. He possessed
no moral strength, could be easily led by the will of his employers; in
short, was a very useful ally. He had a broad, fair, stolid German face;
and from the glimpse she had of him, Adelaide thought she had seldom
seen a more unprepossessing-looking person. His home had been a rude
and unhappy one; his manners were coarse and unpolished, and his
dress shabby.
The first day's journey passed agreeably enough. When they arrived at
their night's station, Mazzuolo having handed out the ladies, bade them
go up stairs and order supper, whilst he and Karl looked to the
putting-up of the carriage. Agostina, or Tina, as her husband commonly
called her, insisted very much on having a room for Adelaide adjoining
her own, alleging as her reason that they were answerable for her safety.
The bride thanked her for her caution, but added, laughingly, that she
did not think she had much to fear. It was some time before the two
men joined them; and then they sat down to supper, the lad Karl acting

as waiter. As he stood beside his aunt's chair, and exactly opposite
Adelaide, he appeared much affected by her beauty; but of this, of
course, the lady took no notice. When supper was over, being fatigued,
she retired to her room; and then the party that remained closed the
door, and bidding Karl sit down and eat his supper, they held a council
on her fate.
Mazzuolo opened the conference by mentioning that he had already
given the lad a hint of what was expected of him, and Tina asked him if
he thought he was equal to the undertaking. Karl said he did not know;
whereupon they encouraged him with promises of a handsome share of
the booty, telling him also that they would stand by him, and help him
if necessary. But the question was, how was the thing to be done, and
where? Whether on the road by day, or in the night where they stopped?
In either case, there were difficulties; many parts of the road they had
to pass were extremely lonely, and fit for the purpose; but then, how
were they to get rid of the