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Updated: May 7, 2025
It was then that Cesarini drew from under his pillow a long-cherished and carefully-concealed treasure. Oh, with what rapture had he first possessed himself of it! with what anxiety had it been watched and guarded! how many cunning stratagems and profound inventions had gone towards the baffling, the jealous search of the keeper and his myrmidons!
The world which she had built upon the faith and heart of Maltravers crumbled away at her feet. The letter dropped from her hands; her whole form seemed to shrink and shrivel up; her teeth were set, and her cheek was as white as marble. "O God!" cried Cesarini, stung with remorse. "Speak to me, speak to me, Florence! I did wrong; forget that hateful letter! I have been false false!"
"To your arts I owe the exile of years that should have been better spent; to those arts Cesarini owes the wreck of his reason, and Florence Lascelles her early grave! Ah, you are pale now; your tongue cleaves to your mouth! And think you these crimes will go forever unrequited; think you that there is no justice in the thunderbolts of God?"
"And am I never to set a free foot on that soil again?" he muttered indignantly, as he broke from his revery. Cesarini turned round and scowled upon the latter; the surgeon, after a few words of salutation, withdrew to a corner of the room, and appeared absorbed in a book.
"She dies and I cannot see her! and you are permitted that last glimpse of human perfectness; you who never loved her as I did; you hated and detested! you " Cesarini paused, and his voice died away, choked in his own convulsive gaspings for breath.
She had come with a slender but well appointed retinue from Florence, but declared herself of Neapolitan birth; the widow of a noble of the brilliant court of the unfortunate Jane. Her name was Cesarini.
I finished an edition of the Physical Sciences, at which I had been working, and in spring Somerville hired a small house belonging to the Duca Sforza Cesarini, at Genzano, close to and with a beautiful view of the Lake of Nemi; but as I had not seen my son for some time, I now availed myself of the opportunity of travelling with our friend Sir Frederick Adam to England.
He saw, at once, that Cesarini had dogged him; he resolved the next morning to change his hotel, and to apply to the police. It was strange how sudden and keen a fear had entered the breast of this callous and resolute man! On arriving at Lady Doltimore's, he found Caroline alone in the drawing-room. It was a tete-a-tete that he by no means desired.
"Take up your home with me for a few days. I cannot trust you out of my sight. Send for your luggage; I have a room at your service." Cesarini at first refused; but a man who resolves on a crime feels the awe of solitude, and the necessity of a companion. He went himself to bring his effects, and promised to return to dinner.
Maltravers rose and dressed himself; and while De Montaigne was yet listening to the account which his friend gave of his adventure with Cesarini, and the unhappy man's accusation of his accomplice, Ernest's servant entered the room very abruptly. "Sir," said he, "I thought you might like to know. What is to be done? The whole hotel is in confusion, Mr.
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