Complete Story. A KING’S WORD.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXVI, Issue XVI, 20 April 1901, Page 723

Complete Story. A KING’S WORD.

Short Story

Elena, Queen of Italy.

The beautiful new Queen of Italy wants literary fame. She has written a short story under the poetic nom de plume of Farfalla Azurra—the Blue Butterfly—and this contribution will simultaneously appear in a new Russian magazine. Her Majesty was educated in Russia and can express herself most fluently in the Russian tongue- The money she receives for the story is to be given to charity. This, her first story, deals with an episode from the life of the late Humbert, who while travelling in the provinces was called from sleep at night by the father confessor of a doomed man who was about to suffer for a crime he had not committed. Humbert went to the dungeon, announced himself supreme judge of the realm, and procured a confession by the promise to pardon the real criminal, who was the father of the man about to be executed. THE QUEEN’S STORY. On Nov. 12, 1874, during a tour of the provinces, the King stopped for the night at Castelgondolfi. That small town was originally not his programme, but a washout on the road had compelled His Majesty to change his dispositions, and the railway being impassable he proceeded to Castelgondolfi in the carriage of a petty land owner, attended by a single gentleman of his suite only. Arrived in the town, the exterior aspects of the only hotel were found to be so uninviting that the King decided to try his luck with one of the local grandees, and as Castelgondolfi happens to be the seat of a bishop, he drove to his grace first. The bishop’s palace was a formidable building, where many, many years ago the tyrants of the principality used to hold forth. There was plenty of room, enough to lodge the King’s entire retinue of sixty persons. King Umberto got a fine suite of apartments and an ample supper, though a frugal one for the bishop, who was an ascetic man.

But His Majesty did not mind the severe plainness of the fare and the sour wine. He never had been a gourmet, and as there was enough to go around he was quite pleased with his experience. Supper over he sat up a while with his grace, listening to that gentleman’s historical memoirs of Castelgondolfi, and became so interested that he asked the bishop to lend him his carriage for a tour of the city. The town had no gas, and there was little illumination save th?carriage lanterns and occasional tallow dips and kerosene lamps in the shop windows; but the King was rather glad Of that, as he didn’t want to be recognised. He intended to get away at an early hour next morning, and if the city authorities learned of his presence there might be delay, owing to loyal demonstrations of the sort that bore and tantalise the recipient. So His Majesty viewed Castelgondolfi’s historical landmarks and monuments as best he could, being satisfied that neither himseif nor his good city would be benefited by a closer inspection, and then after bidding good night to his host retired to his rooms.

His long carriage ride had tired him out, and the King quickly divested himself of his clothes, hoping that his valet would arrive before morning to help him to cut a respectable appearance when he proceeded on his journey. His Majesty’s wearing apparel was well distributed over chairs, sofas and tables when the door bell of the palace rang, making a great noise in the immense hall with its bare walls and granite floor. Umberto paused in the act of blowing out the light, for he had a sort of presentiment that he was wanted, despite Ifis incognito and the unannounced suddenness of his visit, and sure enough there was shuffling of feet outside and

a feeble knock at the door of the anteroom.

“Who is there?” “If it pleases your Majesty, Mar shal Conte Rossi.”

“Wait, I will open.” The King threw his military greatcoat over his shouldeis, for the fire was low. The interruption was not to his liking, and his good-natured face probably expressed annoyance and impatience, for the Marshal wasted some minutes in excuses.

“Very well, you are forgiven, my dear Conte,” interrupted the King, “but now to the point. What brings you here and who are the people outside, for I heard other footsteps besides yours?” “The State’s Attorney of the district and the father confessor of the county prison,” reported the Marshal. “By the merest accident they have heard of your Majesty’s presence, and make bold to beg for an audience at this unseeming hour, owing to the urgency of the business they claim to have.” And as the King made a motion of impatience, probably suspecting some petty political or otficeseeker’s ruse, he continued: “They say it concerns a matter of life and death.”

King Umberto was always a merciful man, and so without furthei parley he replied: - “Take the gentlemen into the salon, and then come back and help me to dress. If you don’t, I am not sure that I will be able to find my clothes again, the candles artso few and the chairs so many.” Ten minutes later the King met his nocturnal visitors, whereupon the State’s Attorney, an elderly man of dignified mien, came forward anti spoke what follows: “Your Majesty is the most high Judge of the realm,” he said, “and, as my business concerns the administration of justice. I had to set aside, for the moment, the consideration I owe the King’s comfort.” “My Marshal tells me that it’s a case of life or death,” remarked Umberto; “that excuses everything. State your appeal for royal clemency. I will weigh it in my mind, and, if the case brooks no delay, as I understand, I promise to give a decision even before retiring.”

"May it please your Majesty,” began the State’s Attorney anew, “it’s not mercy we desire; it’s justice—justice in a case where the ordinary machinery of the law fulls short.”

The King stepped back a pace or two. “You, the public prosecutor, say that?” he demanded, in an angry voice.

“Yes, for conscience bus turned the prosecutor into a defender,” replied the official. When he heard these words the King looked even more annoyed than before, but the advocate continued his appeal. “I beseech you to be calm,” he cried with an emphasis, for your Majesty is to decide whether an innocent man is to be executed tomorrow at daybreak or not.” King Umberto took no notice of this outburst, but sat down in an armchair. “I am listening,” he said, arfter thinking long and earnestly. “State this extraordinary case in the manner you would assume before the Appellate Court.”

“Some three months ago,” began the State’s Attorney, “it became my painful duty to prosecute for murder a young farmer of this section, who up to then had borne the highest character for peacefulness, industry, and sobriety. He wtis accused of having ambushed and shot down a gamekeeper, and the proofs against him were such that I had no difficulty in persuading the juiy of his guilt. I did so because the law compelled me to act. yet, at the same time, I was morally certain of committing a great wrong. An innjer voice kept telling me that this young man was innocent despite the net of direct and circumstantial evidence woven around him, and the more evidence accumulated the more affrighted I became of my cleverness to convict.

“He was sentenced to be shot, a month after judgment had been passed—that is, to-morrow —and as soon as my public duly was discharged I began work to clear up the mystery. I have had, perhaps, twenty conversations with the doomed man since then, in all of which he repeated his declaration of innocence made at the trial, swearing on his baby’s head that he had not done the bloody deed. I Irelieve him. but that does not help matters, since Thomaso cannot or will not furnish proofs that might lead to the discovery of the real culprit.

“As a last resort I took his young wife and three children into his cell yesterday, hoping that their tears and entreaties might loosen his tongue. He cried a good deal, and I was almost persuaded that he would make a clean breast, of the whole business, but when I approached him with a demand for the name of the culprit he pulled himself together and re-

fused, as he did many times before.” I lie advocate paused for breath and then continued: our Majesty will have perceived from what I say that this young fellow is shielding some one, being willing to sutler death rather than make an exposure. It’s a heroie act, but if it were consummated I wouldn’t have another happy hour in life, for it was I who, with doubt in my heart, formulated the charge that worked Thomaso’s undoing. To-night I sought spiritual consolation with the reverend gentleman who accompanies me, when accidentally 1 learned of your Majesty’s presence in our city, ami my heart rejoiced at the thought that the good God sent you to Castelgondolfi in the nick of time. My King and Lord,” cried the advocate, raising his hands beseechingly, "you are the supreme judge of the realm; as such your Majesty’s authority is unlimited. If you will but speak to Thomaso he will give the true solution of this awful mystery and will save me from the odium of having sent an innocent man to execution. I lay the fate of this citizen and my own peace of mind in your Majesty’s hands.”

The State's Attorney withdrew into a corner of the room where, exhausted by his recital, he sank unbidden into a chair. The King smiled kindly at the liberty he was taking, but didn’t say a word, remaining in an attitude of profound meditation. Finally, the Chaplain stepped up and said: “I am the doomed man’s confessor, your Majesty—have known him as long as he lives—and subscribe every word spoken by the State's Attorney. Thomaso is innocent; my Hie upon it. He is offering up nis head for some one else, probably one he loves or one to whom he is Bound by gratitude or esteem.”

The King looked up: "And who may that be?” he asked quickly. "Unless your holy office forbids 1 command you to give me all the information you possess.”

"I can but repeat the assurances already made to your Majesty,” replied the priest.

The King rose with a determined look upon his face. "Then 1 must turn interrogator myself,” he said curtly, “attened me to the prison.” “Does Your Majesty order the carriage to be brought around?” asked Count Rossi, who was sta’nding at the door.

"No,” replied the King, “it would attract too much attention.”

"But it's raining, and the prison is at the other end of the town.” "Never mind. We will step it out,” decided Umberto. "While 1 am much interested in the ease I do not wish to have my interference known.” And turning to the advocate tie continued.

“Unless I be able to solve the mystery vmir man must die by the morrow."

“As it pleases Your .Majesty,” replied the State Attorney, with a lowbow. "I said on coming here that we did not ask for mercy. We merely meant to appeal to the supreme judge, who by virtue of his influence over men’s hearts may be able to assist the course of justice.”

"Well. I shall take you by your word,” said the King. "Go ahead, Mr State's Attorney, and that 1 may be fully posted I will trouble you to narrate the details of the murder on outway to gaol.”

The story was simple enough- Luigi Thomaso lived with his family and parents in a hamlet some ten minutes' distance from Castelgondolfi. One day at noon his neighbours were aroused by two reports of a rifle following closely one upon the other, and running out saw Soltino. the gamekeeper, lying in the road in front of Thomaso’s house. lie had two -bullets in his heart, and Luigi was bending over the body, pale as death and speechless with fright. Investigation proved that Solfino was shot by a rifle known to be Luigi's property, and as the two men had been enemies for years the assumption that Luigi had committed the crime was inevitable. He allowed himself to be arrested without protest, but later insisted that he was innocent.

"Mr State's Attorney." said the King as the little party entered the doomed man's cell, "tell Luigi that the supreme judge of Italy has given him a last chiim-e to save himself if he is innocent. but that nothing short of a full confession will satisfy us. Proceed.”

The State's Attorney spoke as follows: “Luigi Thomaso, you are con-

detuned to die for the crime of which you were convicted in accordance with ■aw. You have a good wife anif three promising sons. For their sake, if not tor your sake, I now demand for the last time that you tell the truth. If you are innocent, as you say, prove it. For my part 1 am convinced that someone else committed thd( deed, but you must give us a chance to fasten the crime upon him- So make a clean breast of it according to the law of the land and to the dictates of your conscience.”

Luigi had listened to this speech with bowed head. When the State’s Attorney finished he raised his eyes and looked his visitors straight in the face, regarding each with an honest and fearless gaze. "From the bottom of my heart,” he said. “I thank Your Honor for the statement you made in the presence of these kind strangers. If you, my prosecutor, beiieve me innocent that is satisfaction enough for me, and I have nothing more to express but sincerest thanks. With your permission I will say no more.”

“Yes, you will speak,” cried the King, advancing towards the convicted murderer. “You must speak, for I. your King, will have it so.” Umberto’s robust voice sounded mightily in the narrow- cell. “The King?” faltered Luigi. Then he fell upon his knees and buried his face in his hands. “Rise!” thundered Umberto. “It ill behoves one about to face his Creator to kneel before men. I came to hear the truth, and render justice if the lower court has erred. Accident brought me here—so I thought at first, but, perchance, it may have been God’s express will that sent me to this town.” And. in a milder voice, His Majesty continued: “Tell me the truth, my son. You don’t want to have it said of Umberto that he sent an innocent man to Execution, while allowing the guilty one to go free? Remember, it is the King’s ‘ highest duty to administer justice. In this case you may be the humble means for setting right a wrong: henee I command thee. Luigi—nay. I pray thee—to assist the King in his difficult task.”

Defiance and loyalty, sorrow and joy. were plainly pictured on Luigi’s countenance as Umberto pronounced these stirring words. Then, stepping out of the shadow and into the flickering light of the warden’s lantern, he drew himself up to his full length and replied simply, but proudly: “I have been a soldier, and know my duties toward your Majesty. Yes. I will talk, provided the real culprit gets a pardon.” “You dare make conditions?” said Count Rossi, angered by Luigi’s attitude.

“I didn t mean to be lacking in re-s|x-ct. and if I have done so I humbly beg the King’s pardon.” replied the peasant, “but 1 must insist upon my demand. You see. gentlemen,” he continued, "I am almost a dead man; I have done with life. My soul alone remains on earth, and that is equal to the King’s. Hence I dare say ‘demand’ even to a King.” King Umberto had followed the argument with every evidence of deep concern. “I concede the point,” he decided, observing the State’s Attorney’s questioning looks. “The other shall be pardoned, my royal word on it, Luigi.”

After this Luigi’s resistance was melting away. He was about to speak, yet- another objection arose in his mind.

“He will be tried first, and all shall know the secret,” he said, turning pale at the thought. “No, it’s impossible. I must not betray him.’’ “Come nearer,” cried the King. He looked the peasant full in the face and continued slowly and impressively: “Fear not, he shall not be dragged to court; his name shall be known to me and these friends only. I know who the guilty party is anyhow—it’s your father. And because he has so good a son he shall go unpunished. As for you, you are free.”

For a considerable w-hile Luigi stood petrified with joy and astonishment. “Thanks, your Majesty,” he cried at last, “for sparing me the disgrace of a confession. Yes, it was good old dad. He is 80 and has only half his wits. Knowing of my quar-

rel with Soltino, he killed him in a foolish effort to take my part. Your Majesty would have despised me, I am sure, if I had borne witness against him who gave me life.” “Let that pass,” said King Umberto, you are a dutiful son; that explains everything. Come with me.” The State’s Attorney had meanwhile notified the superintendent of prison, and a few minutes later Thomaso left the cell, and. at his confessor's side, walked behind the King to the Bishop’s palace. There his Majesty ordered all the candelabra in the parlour lit so he could have a “good look at his newly won citizen.” Then he took Luigi’s hand, and placing it in that of the priest, said: “Take him back into your fold, Mr Chaplain, and command your flock to respect and honour him, that the cloud may be lifted from his good name. If necessary. tell them that I, their King, respect and love Luigi. He has three sons, I am told. The oldest shall remain with him to help him; I shall bring up the second and make a brave soldier of him. You shall receive the third boy into your house and educate him for the priesthood. A good citizen, a fighter for his country, a servant of the Lord—thev are the pillars of the state.”

The King did not retire that night until he had signed the papers reversing Luigi’s sentence, and ordering that the case against Soltino’s murderer be quashed. Then he went to his couch, and for once, after years of protracted insomnia, slept—and “slept like a King,” as he used to say. A year later the law abolishing capital punishment in Italy received Umberto’s signature.

Luigi’s second son is now a dashin" officer in the bodyguard of the -new King of Italy, and a better one never wore the silver cuirass—his youngest son has just celebrated mass for the first time, and his eldest boy is an honest tiller of the soil, while Luigi continues to be an ornament of his community. FARFALLA AZURA. Elena, Queen of Italy.