Out with Garibaldi: A story of the liberation of Italy. Henty George Alfred

the sports vigorously, and regained the ground he had lost, and came to be regarded as likely some day to be one of the representatives of the school.

      When it seemed that the search for the body of Captain Percival had failed, Mrs. Percival wrote to the secretary of the legation in Naples, saying that she would be glad if her husband’s courier would come over to see her.

      “I naturally wish to know,” she said, “as much as I can of the last movements of my husband from the only person who was with him; and I would willingly bear the expenses of his journey both ways, and pay him fifty pounds. I did not receive any letter from my husband during the fortnight preceding his death, and want to learn as much as possible about him.”

      The secretary, on receiving the letter, sent the note to the chief of the police, in whose charge the man had been while the investigations were proceeding; an answer was returned saying that the man Beppo Paracini was not now in his charge, but that perhaps he could find him in the course of a few hours, and would, on doing so, send him to the legation at once.

      Instead of seeing the man himself, however, the officer went to the director of the secret police. “As this affair has been in your department rather than in mine, signor, I thought it best to bring you this note I have just received from the British legation before taking any steps in the matter.”

      The official read the note through. “You have done quite right,” he said. “The affair has been a very troublesome one, and now that it has practically come to an end, it would not do to take any false step in the matter. You shall hear from me in the course of the day.”

      He sat thinking deeply for some minutes after the other had left him, then he touched a bell.

      “Luigi,” he said, when a man entered, “go and fetch Beppo Paracini; if he is not in, find where he has gone and follow him.”

      Half an hour later the courier entered. When before the court he had been dressed in the fashion affected by his class; now he was in dark, quiet clothes, and might have been taken for an advocate or notary.

      “Beppo,” he said, “I thought that we had finished with that troublesome affair of the Englishman; but there is again occasion for your services in the same direction. Here is a letter from the secretary of the British legation saying that he wishes to see you, for that the Signora Percival has written to him to say that she is anxious to learn more of the last days of her husband, and is willing to pay your expenses to England and to give you fifty pounds for your services, if you would be willing to go to her for a few days. I regard this as a fortunate circumstance. The woman’s husband and her father have been constant enemies of the kingdom. Percival was a bosom friend of Garibaldi; her father was also his friend, though not to the same degree. Ever since they established themselves in England his family, who are unfortunately rich, have befriended Italian exiles.

      “Forli was acquainted with all his compatriots in London, who, like himself, were men of education and position, and had escaped from justice. In that house any plot that was on foot, especially if Garibaldi was a leading spirit in it, would certainly be known. No doubt the loss of her husband will make this woman more inveterate against us than ever. I have often wished that I could establish an agent in her house, to keep me informed of what was going on there, who visited it, whether any meetings and consultations were held there, from whom they received letters, and the purport of them, but I have never before seen my way to it. The woman Forli is herself English, and consequently since her husband’s death no Italian servants have been kept in the house. This letter gives me the opportunity I have desired. I wish you to go to the British legation, and to express your willingness to accept the offer that is made, and if possible to obtain a situation in the house.

      “You could represent that you were anxious to obtain a place of any kind in England, for that, owing to the part that you have taken in the search for Percival’s body – a search which brought about the death of the brigand Rapini and the breaking up of his band – your life was no longer safe there from the vengeance of his associates. You can say that before you became a courier you were in the service of several noble families – of course you will be provided with excellent testimonials – and as it was your zeal in her late husband’s behalf that had brought you into this strait, it is quite possible that she may offer you a post in the household. You can declare that you do not desire high wages, but simply a shelter. You will, of course, report yourself on arriving in London to the head of our secret agents there, and will act generally under his directions. I need not say that you will be well paid.”

      “I will gladly accept the mission, signor, for, to say the truth, I am not without some apprehensions such as you suggest. I have changed my appearance a good deal; still, I cannot flatter myself that I could not be detected by any one on the search for me, and I do think that some of Rapini’s band, knowing that I was with the carabinieri, may have vowed vengeance on me; and, as you know, signor, a man so threatened cannot calculate on a very long life.”

      “That is so, Beppo. Then we may consider the matter settled. If you cannot succeed in obtaining a position in the house of this family, I shall instruct my agent in London to utilise your services there, at any rate for the next six months. After that time you may return without much risk, for when it is found that you have disappeared from all your former haunts, the search for you is not likely to last long. At any rate, you might as well mention to those who have known you as a courier, that you intend to establish yourself either in Paris or Berlin. For as you speak both French and German as well as English, that would in any case be the course that a prudent man would adopt, after being mixed up in an affair that ended badly for the brigands. Well, in the first place, you had better go at once to the legation and accept their terms. Come here at eleven o’clock to-morrow, and I will give you further instructions.”

      Thus it happened that when Frank came home next time from school, he was surprised at having the door opened to him by a grave-looking servant in plain clothes, who said in English, with a very slight foreign accent: “The Signora Percival is in the drawing-room, sir. I will see to your baggage and settle with the cabman.”

      “Whom have you got hold of now, mother?” he said, after the first greeting – “an Italian? Isn’t he a fearfully respectable-looking man? Looks like a clergyman got up as a valet.”

      “He was your dear father’s courier, Frank. I sent for him to come over here, as I wished to learn all about your father’s last days. The poor fellow was in fear of his life, owing to the evidence that he had given against the brigands. William had given me notice that he was going to leave only the day before; and as Beppo had served in several noble families, who had given him splendid testimonials, and was afraid to return to Italy, I was very glad to take him in William’s place, especially as he only asked the same wages I paid before. I congratulate myself on the change, for he is quite the beau-ideal of a servant – very quiet in the house, ready to do anything, gets on well with the other servants, and is able to talk in their own language to any of his countrymen who come here, either as visitors or as exiles in need of assistance. He has, indeed, saved me more than once from impostors; he has listened to their stories, and having been a courier, and knowing every town in Italy, on questioning them he found out that their whole story was a lie.”

      “That is all right, mother; if you like him, that is everything. I own that I liked William; I am sorry that he has gone. I shall be some time getting accustomed to this chap, for he certainly is fearfully grave and respectable.”

      CHAPTER IV.

      A SUDDEN SUMMONS

      ONE Saturday early in March, 1860, Frank, now sixteen years of age, on starting for the football ground, was told that the house-master wished to see him, and he at once went into his study.

      “Percival, I have received a note from your mother, asking me to let you out till Monday morning. She says that she particularly wants to see you, and will be glad if you will start at once. Of course I will do so; you had better catch the next train, if you can.”

      “What in the world can the mater want to see me in such a hurry for?” Frank said to himself in a rather discontented tone as he left the master’s study. “It is a frightful nuisance missing the match this afternoon! I don’t know what Hawtrey will