He gazed wistfully at the working features of the fine old man who stood before him, and though memory seemed to flit around the truth, it was in gleams so transient as completely to baffle his wishes.
"Dost thou deny me, de Willading?--dost thou refuse to own the friend of thy youth--the companion of thy pleasures--the sharer of thy sorrows--- thy comrade in the wars--nay, more--thy confidant in a dearer tie?"
"None but Gaetano Grimaldi himself can claim these titles!" burst from the lips of the trembling baron.
"Am I aught else?--am I not this Gaetano?--that Gaetano--thy Gaetano,--old and very dear friend?"
"Thou Gaetano!" exclaimed the Bernois, recoiling a step, instead of advancing to meet the eager embrace of the Genoese, whose impetuous feelings were little cooled by time--"thou, the gallant, active, daring, blooming Grimaldi! Signore, you trifle with an old man's affections."
"By the holy mass, I do not deceive thee! Ha, Marcelli, he is slow to believe as ever, but fast and certain as the vow of a churchman when convinced. If we are to distrust each other for a few wrinkles, thou wilt find objections rising against thine own identity as well as against mine, friend Melchior. I am none other than Gaetano--the Gaetano of thy youth--the friend thou hast not seen these many long and weary years."
Recognition was slow in making its way in the mind of the Bernese. Lineament after lineament, however, became successively known to him, and most of all, the voice served to awaken long dormant recollections. But, as heavy natures are said to have the least self-command when fairly excited, so did the baron betray the most ungovernable emotion of the two, when conviction came at last to confirm the words of his friend. He threw himself on the neck of the Genoese, and the old man wept in a manner that caused him to withdraw aside, in order to conceal the tears which had so suddenly and profusely broken from fountains that he had long thought nearly dried.
Chapter III.
Ha, cousin Silence, that thou hadst seen
That, that this knight and I have seen!
King Henry IV.
The calculating patron of the Winkelried had patiently watched the progress of the foregoing scene with great inward satisfaction, but now that the strangers seemed to be assured of support powerful as that of Melchior de Willading, he was disposed to turn it to account without farther delay. The old men were still standing with their hands grasping each other, after another warm and still closer embrace, and with tears rolling down the furrowed face of each, when Baptiste advanced to put in his raven-like remonstrance.
"Noble gentlemen," he said, "if the felicitations of one humble as I can add to the pleasure of this happy meeting, I beg you to accept them; but the wind has no heart for friendships nor any thought for the gains or losses of us watermen. I feel it my duty, as patron of the bark, to recall to your honors that many poor travellers, far from their homes and pining families, are waiting our leisure, not to speak of foot-sore pilgrims and other worthy adventurers, who are impatient in their hearts, though respect for their superiors keeps them tongue-tied, while we are losing the best of the breeze."
"By San Francesco! the varlet is right;" said the Genoese, hurriedly erasing the marks of his recent weakness from his cheeks. "We are forgetful of all these worthy people while joy at our meeting is so strong, and it is time that we thought of others. Canst thou aid me in dispensing with the city's signatures?"
The Baron de Willading paused; for well-disposed at first to assist any gentlemen who found themselves in an unpleasant embarrassment, it will be readily imagined that the case lost none of its interest, when he found that his oldest and most tried friend was the party in want of his influence. Still it was much easier to admit the force of this new and unexpected appeal than to devise the means of success. The officer was, to use a phrase which most men seem to think supplies a substitute for reason and principle, too openly committed to render it probable he would easily yield. It was necessary, however, to make the trial, and the baron, therefore, addressed the keeper of the water-gate more urgently than he had yet done in behalf of the strangers.
"It is beyond my functions; there is not one of our Syndics whom I would more gladly oblige than yourself, noble baron," answered the officer; "but the duty of the watchman is to adhere strictly to the commands of those who have placed him at his post."
"Gaetano, we are not the men to complain of this! We have stood together too long in the same trench, and have too often slept soundly, in situations where failure in this doctrine might have cost us our lives, to quarrel with the honest Genevese for his watchfulness. To be frank, 'twere little use to tamper with the fidelity of a Swiss or with that of his ally."
"With the Swiss that is well paid to be vigilant!" answered the Genoese, laughing in a way to show that he had only revived one of those standing but biting jests, that they who love each other best are perhaps most accustomed to practice.
The Baron de Willading took the facetiousness of his friend in good part, returning the mirth of the other in a manner to show that the allusion recalled days when their hours had idly passed in the indulgence of spontaneous outbreakings of animal spirits.
"Were this thy Italy, Gaetano, a sequin would not only supply the place of a dozen signatures, but, by the name of thy favorite, San Francesco! it would give the honest gate-keeper that gift of second-sight on which the Scottish seers are said to pride themselves."
"Well, the two sides of the Alps will keep their characters, even though we quarrel about their virtues--but we shall never see again the days that we have known! Neither the games of Vévey, nor the use of old jokes, will make us the youths we have been, dear de Willading!"
"Signore, a million of pardons," interrupted Baptiste, "but this western wind is more inconstant even than the spirits of the young."
"The rogue is again right, and we forget yonder cargo of honest travellers, who are wishing us both in Abraham's bosom, for keeping the impatient bark in idleness at the quay. Good Marcelli, hast thou aught to suggest in this strait?"
"Signore, you forget that we have another document that may be found sufficient"--the person questioned, who appeared to fill a middle station between that of a servant and that of a companion, rather hinted than observed:
"Thou sayest true--and yet I would gladly avoid producing it--but anything is better than the loss of thy company, Melchior."
"Name it not! We shall not separate, though the Winkelried rot where she lies. 'Twere easier to separate our faithful cantons than two such friends."
"Nay, noble baron, you forget the wearied pilgrims and the many anxious travellers in the bark."
"If twenty crowns will purchase thy consent, honest Baptiste, we will have no further discussion."
"It is scarce in human will to withstand you, noble Sir!--Well, the pilgrims have weary feet, and rest will only fit them the better for the passage of the mountains; and as for the others, why let them quit the bark if they dislike the conditions. I am not a man to force my commerce on any."
"Nay, nay, I will have none of this. Keep thy gold, Melchior, and let the honest Baptiste keep his passengers, to say nothing of his conscience."
"I beseech your excellency," interrupted Baptiste, "not to distress yourself in tenderness for me. I am ready to do far
