Chapter XXI: The Masked Ball, Where I Meet Carlo

By the time we reached Castle Hall, most of the company had arrived, and dancing had already begun. I had only seen the place by daylight, and when most of the old rooms were in disorder, so that the splendid old entrance-hall, and the suite of beautiful rooms through which we passed, surprised and delighted us. As we passed through the blue drawing-room, we paused to look at our favourite picture by Vandyck, and the only person in that room was a tall man, with a handsome but pale and melancholy countenance, whom I immediately recognized as Count Rossi.

I was much re-assured by the kind manner in which he welcomed us, although he thought we were total strangers, no names having been given by the servant, according to our express orders. He said, with a foreign accent, that if we wished to remain unknown, he would show us on through the library, and pointed to a room beyond, through which we heard the music, and caught a sight of the entrance to the ball-room in the distance.

The Count’s most interesting face made me still more anxious, if possible, that the awful calamity which rumour reported was hanging over his head might be averted. When we entered the fairy scene, we could only take a quick impression of its wonderful beauty, for we were so eager to see if Carlo was there undisguised, that we could scarcely look at the flowery walls and the gorgeous colours and mystic light. In vain we looked all round the room--he was nowhere to be seen. But we saw Cunigunda dancing with a handsome man, and Aunt Jane was so fascinated by her appearance that I saw she could not take her eyes off the light and sylph-like figure.

“How strangely--how magically beautiful she is! I certainly never saw such perfect beauty,” said Aunt Jane. “Oh! if those splendid eyes could but find repose, and that beautiful mouth could but express kindness! Oh! dear, that gifted creature has every charm that can ensnare, but, alas! can never, never---- I wonder whether she is entirely irreclaimable?” added Aunt Jane, after a long pause. “If she were ever to suffer real loss, real pain, perhaps---- But I suppose she cares for no one enough to feel much if she lost him. Yet she is not fully enjoying her triumph--I see that. Ha! that’s he, is it not, now passing?” she added, soon after. “Make yourself known to him immediately--come.”

Yes, Carlo was there, not dancing, but looking round the room with a listless air; and certainly he appeared much less happy than he did in former days. Aunt Jane knew it was Carlo by the start she saw me give, and the suppressed word I was on the point of uttering.

“You will not stir, I see,” said Aunt Jane, “so I will go up to him. Stay here; do not approach till I make a sign to you; there, sit down near these beautiful roses.”

I watched anxiously as I saw her gently approach Carlo, and whisper something in his ear. He seemed to listen attentively, but he did not look so surprised as I imagined he would, so I began to think he had not received my note. She spoke for some minutes, and then I saw her point towards me. I scarcely know what passed after, for my eyes failed me, and my head swam round and round; but soon I felt the pressure of a well-known hand in mine, and the well-known voice: “Costanza, mi perdoni, vieni con me.”

I scarcely knew how I got up, and found myself drawn through the crowd, till we reached one of the small rooms in the outer part of the house, when he gently lifted my mask, and looked full in my face with the loving expression of long ago. He talked to me of old times, describing the scenes where we used to climb up the rocky heights near Sorrento, in search of flowers, and how I weaved them into beautiful garlands and long chains; and he reminded me how I made him jump across a chasm with one end of it, and then another, till the pinnacles of the rocks were decorated with the gorgeous festoons; and how one day he had a fall, and how miserable I then appeared to be at having suggested to him to make the dangerous leap.

“Ah! you cared for me then,” he said, with a sigh; “and I was more worth caring for. But I was sent to that fatal university, and I then lost you, my lovely guardian angel! And now!--The Countess told me you was going to be married to some great English milord. Is it not so?”

At that moment some people came into the room, and a bold but handsome lady, whom I recognised as Lady Selina Bugginfield, came up to him and said, with a look of extreme surprise,

“What! you here? Can you have forgotten that you were engaged for the first waltz after supper to the Countess? I heard you ask her, and know that she has refused no end of people to keep her promise to you.”

“I--I did not know that supper had even begun,” said Carlo.

“No, I suppose not,” said Lady Selina, with a mischievous and curious look at my disguise.

I whispered, in a low but disguised voice, that he had better go and fulfil his engagement.

“Come,” I added, “you must at least take me to the ball-room.”

I do not think she recognised me, for I pretended to be lame as we walked across the room; and I felt anxious that he should not appear so rude to the Countess, although I could not help feeling that some good influence might be exerted over him, which would prevent him from falling still lower. So we proceeded along the suite of rooms till just within the ball-room I descried Aunt Jane’s domino and mask. I knew it by a little mark I had placed near one of the eyes. But Cunigunda was nowhere to be seen; and several people told Carlo, in answer to his inquiries, that she had totally disappeared, or perhaps assumed some disguise.

“Pray search for her,” I whispered; “and do not remain near me, or people will begin to suspect.”

“I will seek for her, if you promise to be in that cameo-boudoir”--(the small room where I had passed the last two hours, so called from the walls being covered with casts of antique gems and cameos)--“at the end of the next dance; for I _must_ see you.”

“Yes, we will be there; if Aunt Jane likes to come,” I said.

He then went among the crowd of dominoes, to seek for the Countess; but for some time he did not appear to find any one at all resembling her.