Adrift in Pacific and Other Great Adventures – 17 Titles in One Volume (Illustrated Edition). Jules Verne
Читать онлайн книгу.
had to admit it. Hatred and jealousy arose against the young count who was to take her away from her art, her success, the idolatry of the dilettanti, the greatest singer of her age. Even personal threats were directed against Franz de Télek—which threats in no way troubled him.
But if it was thus with the public, we can imagine what Rodolphe de Gortz felt at the thought of losing La Stilla, and that he would lose with her all that was life to him. There was a rumour that he was about to commit suicide. It was certain that from this day Orfanik was not seen in the streets of Naples. He never left Baron Rodolphe. Many times he was with him in the box which the baron occupied at every performance—and that he had never done before, being, like other learned men, absolutely refractory to the sensual charm of music.
The days, however, went by; the excitement did not subside, and it was at its height the last time La Stilla was to appear on the stage. It was in the superb character of Angelica in “Orlando,” the masterpiece of Arconati, that she was to bid her farewell to the public.
That night San Carlo was but a tenth large enough to hold the people who crowded at its doors and for the most part remained outside. It was feared that there would be a manifestation against Count de Télek, if not while La Stilla was on the stage, at least when the curtain fell on the last act.
The Baron de Gortz had taken his place in his box, and this time Orfanik was again with him.
La Stilla appeared, more agitated than she had ever been. She recovered herself, however; she abandoned herself to her inspiration, and sang with such perfection, such ineffable talent, that the indescribable enthusiasm she excited among the audience rose almost to delirium.
During the performance the young count waited at the wing, impatient, nervous, feverish, cursing the length of the scenes, and angry at the delays provoked by the applause and recalls. Ah! how they hindered him from carrying off from this theatre her who was to be the Countess of Télek; the adored woman he would take far, far away, so far that she would belong but to him, to him alone.
At last came the final most dramatic scene, in which the heroine of Orlando dies. Never had the admirable music of Arconati appeared more impressive, never had La Stilla interpreted it with more impassioned emphasis. All her soul seemed to distil itself through her lips. And yet one would have said that this voice was about to break, for it was to be no longer heard.
At this moment the railing of the Baron de Gortz’s box was lowered. Over it there appeared that strange head with the long grizzly hair and the eyes of flame. It showed itself, that ecstatic face, frightful in its pallor, and from the wing Franz saw it in the light for the first time.
La Stilla was then revelling in the full power of that ravishing stretto of the final air. She had just repeated that phrase with the sublime sentiment,—
“Inamorata, mio cuore tremante Voglio morire.”
Suddenly she stopped.
Baron de Gortz’s face terrified her. An inexplicable terror paralyzed her. She put her hand to her mouth; it reddened with blood. She staggered; she fell—
The audience rose, trembling, bewildered, distracted.
A cry escaped from Baron de Gortz’s box.
Franz rushed on to the stage; he took La Stilla in his arms; he lifted her, he looked at her, he called her.
“Dead! dead!” he cried. “She is dead!”
Yes! La Stilla was dead. A blood-vessel had broken. Her song died with her last sigh.
The young count was taken back to his hotel in such a state that his reason was despaired of. He was unable to be present at La Stilla’s funeral, which took place amid an immense crowd of the Neapolitan population.
It was at the cemetery of Campo Santo Nuovo that the singer was buried, and all that could be read on the marble was—
Stilla.
The night of the funeral a man went to the Campo Santo Nuovo. There with haggard eyes, bowed head, and lips clenched as if they had been sealed by death, he looked for a long time at the spot where La Stilla lay; and he seemed to listen as if the voice of the great artiste was to be heard for the last time from her grave.
It was Rodolphe de Gortz.
That very night the Baron de Gortz, accompanied by Orfanik, left Naples, and no one knew what became of him. But the next morning a letter was received by the young count. The letter contained but these words:—
It is you who have killed her. Woe to you, Count de Télek!
Rodolphe de Gortz
CHAPTER X.
Such had been this lamentable history.
For a month Franz de Télek’s life was in danger. He recognized nobody—not even his man Rotzko. In the height of his fever but one name escaped his lips, which were ready to part with their last breath: it was that of La Stilla.
The young count did not die. The skill of the doctors, the incessant care of Rotzko, together with his own youth and constitution, saved Franz de Télek. His reason emerged uninjured from this terrible struggle. But when memory returned to him, when he recalled the final tragic scene in “Orlando,” in which the soul of the artiste had left her,—
“Stilla! my Stilla!” he cried, stretching out his hands as if he were applauding.
As soon as his master could leave his bed, Rotzko persuaded him to leave this accursed town, and allow himself to be carried home to the Castle of Krajowa. But before he left Naples the young count wished to go and pray over the grave of the dead, and bid her a last and eternal farewell.
Rotzko accompanied him to Campo Santo Nuovo. There Franz threw himself on the cruel ground—he would have torn it up with his finger-nails to bury himself by her side. Rotzko at last managed to get him away from the grave, where he had left all his life and all his happiness.
A few days afterwards Franz de Télek had returned to Krajowa, to his old family estate. Here he lived for four years in absolute retirement, never leaving the castle. Neither time nor distance could alleviate his grief. He would have forgotten, but it was impossible. The remembrance of La Stilla, vivid as on the first day was bound up with his life, and the wound would close only with death.
At the time our story begins the young count had left the castle for some weeks. What long and pressing arguments Rotzko had had to prevail on his master to abandon the solitude in which he was wasting away! Consolation might be impossible, but an attempt at distraction might at least be made.
A plan of a tour was then decided on, which consisted in first visiting the Transylvanian provinces. Later, Rotzko hoped that the young count would agree to resume the European journey which had been interrupted by the sad events at Naples.
Franz de Télek had set out for only a short exploration. He and Rotzko had crossed the Wallachian plains up to the imposing mass of the Carpathians; they had been among the Vulkan defiles, and after an ascent of Retyezat and an excursion across the valley of the Maros, they had come for a rest to the village of Werst, to the “King Mathias” inn.
We know the state of affairs when Franz de Télek arrived, and how he had been informed of the incomprehensible occurrences of which the castle had been the scene. We also know how he had ascertained that the castle belonged to Baron Rodolphe de Gortz.
The effect produced by this name was too apparent for Master Koltz and the other notables not to notice it. And