The Headsman | Page 9

but creatures that
come part of the water and part of the land!"
The Italian spoke loud and confidently, and to the manner of one who
addressed himself more to the humors of those near than to the
understanding of the Genevese. He laughed, and looked about him in a
manner to extract an echo from the crowd, though not one among them
all could probably have given a sufficient reason why he had so readily
taken part with the stranger against the authorities of the town, unless it
might have been from the instinct of opposition to the law.
"Thou hast a name?" continued the half-yielding, half-doubting
guardian of the port.
"Dost take me to be worse off than the bark of Baptiste, there? I have
papers, too, if thou wilt that I go to the vessel in order to seek them.
This dog is Nettuno, a brute from a far country, where brutes swim like
fishes, and my name is Maso, though wicked-minded men call me
oftener Il Maledetto than by any other title."
All in the throng, who understood the signification of what the Italian
said, laughed aloud, and apparently with great glee, for, to the grossly
vulgar, extreme audacity has an irresistible charm. The officer felt that
the merriment was against him, though he scarce knew why; and
ignorant of the language in which the other had given his extraordinary

appellation, he yielded to the contagion, and laughed with the others,
like one who understood the joke to the bottom. The Italian profited by
this advantage, nodded familiarly with a good-natured and knowing
smile, and proceeded. Whistling the dog to his side, he walked leisurely
to the bark, into which he was the first that entered, always preserving
the deliberation and calm of a man who felt himself privileged, and safe
from farther molestation. This cool audacity effected its purpose,
though one long and closely hunted by the law evaded the authorities of
the town, when this singular being took his seat by the little package
which contained his scanty wardrobe.
Chapter II.
"My nobiel liege! all my request Ys for a nobile knyghte, Who, tho'
mayhap he has done wronge, Hee thoughte ytt stylle was righte."
Chatterton.
While this impudent evasion of vigilance was successfully practised by
so old an offender, the trio of sentinels, with their volunteer assistant
the pilgrim, manifested the greatest anxiety to prevent the
contamination of admitting the highest executioner of the law to form
one of the strangely assorted company. No sooner did the Genevese
permit a traveller to pass, than they commenced their private and
particular examination, which was sufficiently fierce, for more than
once had they threatened to turn back the trembling, ignorant applicant
on mere suspicion. The cunning Baptiste lent himself to their feelings
with the skill of a demagogue, affecting a zeal equal to their own, while,
at the same time, he took care most to excite their suspicions where
there was the smallest danger of their being rewarded with success.
Through this fiery ordeal one passed after another, until most of the
nameless vagabonds had been found innocent, and the throng around
the gate was so far lessened as to allow a freer circulation in the
thoroughfare. The opening permitted the venerable noble, who has
already been presented to the reader, to advance to the gate,
accompanied by the female, and closely followed by the menials. The
servitor of the police saluted the stranger with deference, for his calm

exterior and imposing presence were in singular contrast with the noisy
declamation and rude deportment of the rabble that had preceded.
"I am Melchior de Willading, of Berne," said the traveller, quietly
offering the proofs of what he said, with the ease of one sure of his
impunity; "this is my child--my only child," the old man repeated the
latter words with melancholy emphasis, "and these, that wear my livery,
are old and faithful followers of my house. We go by the St. Bernard,
to change the ruder side of our Alps for that which is more grateful to
the weak--to see if there be a sun in Italy that hath warmth enough to
revive this drooping flower, and to cause it once more to raise its head
joyously, as until lately, it did ever in its native halls."
The officer smiled and repeated his reverences, always declining to
receive the offered papers; for the aged father indulged the overflowing
of his feelings in a manner that would have awakened even duller
sympathies.
"The lady has youth and a tender parent of her side," he said; "these are
much when health fails us."
"She is indeed too young to sink so early!" returned the father, who had
apparently forgotten his immediate business, and was gazing with a
tearful