THE CHANGED MASK.

Waikato Times, Volume XXIX, Issue 2346, 23 July 1887, Page 1 (Supplement)

THE CHANGED MASK.

[A STORY OF THE EARTHQUAKE.] ‘ So, carina mia, you really will not tell me the costume you intend wearing at the ball ?” queried Tito Fadello of Stella Randolini, as together they paced the garden. 1 Really, how persistent you are ; I have said No a dozen times at least,’ she answered with an accent of impatience ; hut seeing a shade of disappointment cross her companion’s face, laughingly added, “I want to have as much fun as possible ; who knows, I might hear some of your pretty speeches intended for others ; besides,” with an arch smile, ■ have you not said you would recognise me under any disguise?” 1 True, provided I heard your natural voice ; hut you know at these junketings —where we feign to be what we are not special care is given to the voice lest it betray identity. Do tell me, dear. I have a feeling as though I should like to he quite sure which masquerader is my Stella to-night, Next week I sail with my regiment; it may be the last favour I ever ask ; give me a sign.” ‘ Something in his tone struck her ; glancing quickly into Tito’s face, she met his eyes, with a mingled expression of sorrow, hope and intense love in their blue depths, fixed imploringly upon her. Fora second she wavered ; but aware of her power, and unused to having her slightest whim crossed, she allowed the moment to pass, and answered, ‘No, no, no a thousand times no 1” thereby sealing the fate of both. The tide of her better impulse had turned, and silently, without warning, the hour of doom approached.

The scene of the above conversation was the palm-shaded terrace of a pretty villa, situated in one of the most delightful parts of the Italian Riviera. Like eagles’ nests, picturesque villairesperched upon projecting crags dotted the surrounding mountains ; stretching away right and left, in sweeping curves and beautiful little bays, edged in by fantastic jagged rocks, shone and glittered the sapphire ocean in ripples of opaline splendour. On this fair landscape of mount, stream, and sea, so soon to become a human sepulchre —a desolate waste of misery, want, and woe —the glorious sun of a southern spring shone down from a foam-flecked azure sky. Away from the toil and strife of great cities, all looked so calm and

restful ; as if sorrow', sighing, and mourning never had had, or could have, part or portion there. And thus thought the young lovers, who, for a while longer, remained conversing about their personal affairs —Tito’s coming departure, what they would do in the future, that rosytinted, golden future which seemed so near to them then, and ol their love which W'as to endure till death. Then they separated to prepare for the last Battle of Flowers.

As all her friends knew, Stella was a flirt and ooqucttto. An only child, idolised by indulgent parents, her caprice was law. Until the fair-haired young officer, Fadollo, appeared, her wayward fancy had been fettered by none, save for the moment, and for amusement; but he, loving her with a passionateTervour amounting to adoration, was blind to her faults, which, to an impartial outsider, were somewhat pronounced, and it was unanimously agreed among Tito’s messmates and friends that Stella Randolini was unworthy of such devotion. To do Stella justice, however, she returned Fadello’s love with all the affection she was capable of feeling for any other object save self, and when he asked her to bo Ills wife he won her consent. Such was the state of affairs when Tito received orders to join his regiment, and embark on a given date for Africa. Fadello, although a soldier, was Italian and a Catholic ; by nature somewhat dreamy and superstitious. On leaving his fiancee, Tito, instead of joining his comrades, turned abruptly into a mountain road, and made straight for a little pilgrimage chapel, standing high on the hillside, and which contained a dusky Madonna, an object of much veneration. Having finished his orisons, and left an offering for the propitiation of the Virgin, he paused outside the oratory. Glancing round at the magnificent prospect, his eyes dwelt lingeringly upon many a wellremembered nook, made sacred by associations with his love. ‘Ah me !’ he murmured, sighing heavily, “shall I over see this again? perhaps ” At this point his unspoken thoughts were cut short by a voice saying, ’ Will the signor pardon a distressed widow troubling him ? They tell me he is going to Africa : my son went there with the first detachment; tidings have I had none, and know not if he be living or dead. He is the only one left me out of eight children, who died of cholera in two days. If the signor sees my Pietro, will he tell him I am grieving for news? Costa is the name.’

‘ Willingly, my good woman, if I see him, and if not I will make inquiries; yon shall know his fate from the signorina. Keep a good heart, and take this to drink to-night to our safe return.’ So speaking, the young man handed her a few silver coins ; then, as though suddenly recollecting something, asked with a smile, ‘Ah! Costa you said, are yon then the Madalena Costa to whom the girls all come to have their fortunes told ?’

‘ Signor, I am.’ 1 Well, I hope yon give them good ones, and plenty of sweethearts.’ 1 Fortunes,’ she replied, raising her large melancholy dark eyes to his, ‘are not mine to make or mar ; I employ no black art or witches’ devices, but simply tell "what is written in their hands ; and, with thesignor’s permission,’ she continued, ‘ I will look at his.’ Without waiting for leave, Madelena took Fadello’s unresisting hand, gazing silently at the lines for a few seconds. An anxious look passed over her expressive face, as she dropped it without speak-

1 Ehbene Madalena ?’ he questioned jokingly, ‘ Is it good or bad ? am I to remain in Africa to become food for wild beasts or savages ?’

‘Dio tnio,? Signor do not jest, the signs are ’ ‘Bad,’ he interrupted, ‘by all means though, let mo know the best and the worst. We soldiers da not fear death, and what is to bo, must he. Come, out with it,’ seeing she still hesitated. Slowly, regretfully, Madalena then uttered the all too true prophetic words, ‘ A life cut short in its prime by a death sudden and violent.’ Fora moment exclaimed, ‘Listen? That low rumbling noise again 1 What can it he?’ ‘ Why, what should it be but the little folks underground, following the ex-

ample of their betters above, are revelling in their last carnival Battle. Hallo 1 though,’ looking at his watch, ‘how late it is ! I must run, or the signorina will be impatient. Good-bye, Madalena, I won’t forget Pietro ; mind, let your next predicition be a brighter one., With this parting injunction Tito, hurriedly descending the steep hill, was soon out of sight. Little thought either that Madalena Costa had told her last fortune.

An hour later the chief promenade was thronged with a double row of gailydecorated vehicles of every description, and pedestrians, masked or otherwise, all of wliotn were laden with posies or baskets of flowers. The carriage which attracted most attention was literally shrouded iu white lilac, ou a groundwork of moss. It contained the Randolinis, pere el mere, Stella, and her cousin. Much resembling each other, the two girls were dressed alike in costumes of green and white, hats trimmed with moss-green ribbons, and wreaths of natural white lilac, while they warded off old Sol’s bright rays with screens of the fan palm, knotted with bunches of lilac fastened by green and white steamers. Many other carriages, tastefully decorated, containing merry freights of dominoes and parti-coloured masqueraders, were also much admired, but with them wo have nothing to do. No shadow of the coming parting rested ou Stella’s brow, as with sparkling eyes and flushed checks, she, the gayest of that joyous crowd, east her favours right and left with unweaving animation, a direct contrast to Tito, who wore a melancholy air of pre-occupation. A group of young fellows, with whom he stopped to apeak, rallied him about his downcast looks, laughingly suggesting some lover’s quarrel as the reason. Their goodhumoured banter, however, failed to rouse him ; he strolled listlessly along, heedless of showers of floral missiles aimed by fair maidens and goodly matrons at his handsome self. W iirfare he waged with none except Stella, whom alone he appeared to see, and who each time she passed him, received a deluge of choice flowers. In vain he tried to shake off his depression, he knew not what, seemed to haunt and weigh him down. On went the mimic battle until sunset, when all turned homo ward. With coquettish glance Stella threw her last nosegay at Fadello, who caught it with brightening smile, and, ns is customary, raised it to his lips. Was it chance or fate, that the posey was a bunch of what the country people call the ‘ Flower of Death ?’ * * * »

‘Come, bestir thee, man ! What ails thee to let the silly caprice of a girl spoil thus thy pleasure? Throw care to the winds and be thyself again for to-night a least ; thou wilt soon get carnival of another sort in Africa, I warrant.’ Thus argued Fadello with himself as he proceeded to join some friends, but to no purpose. Passing a shop filled with masqnording costumes he abruptly entered, muttering, T must try once more; she cannot refuse me this.’ Selecting a white satin mask, ho wrote upon the left sido the let ters I E. T. F.’ and also a short note, bogging her, for his sake, to wear the accompanying mask in preference to any other. To avoid delay or mistake he retraced his steps, leaving it in person at the Villa Bernado. Stella received the parcel while ocou-

pied with her toilet, and hurriedly opened it. A smile of triumph flitted across her face as she glanced over her lover’s letter. Carelessly tossing it into a drawer, she impatiently exclaimed, ‘ Why on earth he does he want to be so sure which masquerader is me ? Ah ’ I have it. The solution is not far to seek. He is jealou-q and thinks it will prevent me flirting' with others. What a foolish Tito to be sure ! Well, I don’t feel inclined to humour you, et vuliatout!’ Opening the folding door, she called, ‘ Here, Rita, I want you to change masks.’ ‘Why? Does yours not fit:’

‘Oh yes, but .someone has sent this marked, asking mo to wear it so that ho may know mu which I don’t choose he should. What fnu it will be his mistaking you for me; mind you carry out the deception and tell me all the pretty things be whispers.’ Little dreaming who had sent it, Rita consented and donned the mask, her frivolous, light.-hcaated cousin the while laughing heartily at the fun iu prospect.

Entertainments at the Randoliuis were always most pleasant, and to young' 'oiks their carnival balls specially amusing. On this particular evening' the ballroom, profusely decorated with flowers, presented a brilliant coup d’eoil as the lively company, in every variety of costume danced far into the small hours of Ash Wednesday. Cases of mistaken identity, love made to wrong persons, together with various minor little intrigues all added ze.-t to theen tertaimnent. Tito Fadello, clad in white cowl and habit, was an object, of considerable interest and speculation ; but to the chagrin of many a fair masque, ho remained utterly impervious to their fascinations. One alone fixed his attention—namely, the white satin masque, whom ho followed like a shadow, hovering about her person like a moth round a candle, for he uc-ver doubted Stella’s compliance with his last entreaty ; but Rita, for she it was, always contrived with ready wit and adroitess to avoid what might prove an embarrassing tete-a-teto. Poor Tito’s state of mind, therefore, may bo better imagined than described. After supper dancing was renewed with increased spirit, and the young votaries of Terpsichore showed little sign of flagging', when, ore it was dawn, bells clanged out, warning the faithful the hour had come when in duty bound they ought to repair to church and receive the brand of ashes ou their foreheads, accompanied by the gruesome injunction, ‘Remember, then art but du-t.’ Many responded to the call; others, roused from slumber, muttered uncomplimentary remarks concerning church bells in general, and about those within hearing in particular, turned over and s'opt again; some, heedless, danced on the while.

Mother Earth, however, when she quakes and trembles, is no respecter of persons or occupations. Sleepers, dancers, prayers alike shared the same fate. Jt was between live and six o’clock. Rita, for the moment alone, bent over a (lowering shrub, inhaling its refreshing fragrance. Close behind her in the wall was a sliding panel, which conducted into a spacious summer apartment, having a double exit. Tito, who from tlie further side of the room had been watching, as he fondly imagined, Stella, hoping to catch her for a few moments alone at the last, was darting across to join her, when a loud explosion, similar to the bursting of a bomb, accompanied by a rattling sound as of huge hailstones pattering unou a glass roof, caused the greatest consternation amongst the guests. “Good heavens! What is that ?” each asked the other in awed tones. Ere words could he framed for answer, the ground trembled beneath their feet, and the house rocked to and fro like a ship on a stoi my sea. Minors dashed from the walls, persons, scats, and ornaments were knocked down ; windows shivered to atoms. Then followed a scene of the wildest confusion. With one accord the musicians threw aside their instruments, rushed from tire platform, swelling the crowd of terrorstricken people massed together, all struggling to reach the exit leading into the hall. Ah 1 merciless fate ! The door had jammed ; to wrench it open was impossible. Was there no hope? no reprieve ? None ; The kicks and blows rained upon it only served to hasten destruction. Tearing oIF their masks, shrieking wildly, the women, with blanched faces, fell on their knees beseeching mercy, crying out the Day of Doom was upon them. Some of the men uttered imprecations against the presiding Genius of earthquakes for spoiling the last hour of merry-making, the while renewing their frantic endeavours to force open the door. Crack, crack, crack on all sides, and the alarmed multitude saw with starting eyes great gaping rents running down the walls from top to bottom. With a crash the ceiling gave way; the tottering walls fell, burying beneath their ruins the late gay company of carnival revellers. Ere half-uttered, shrieks and groans were stifled as a cloud of dost arose ; fragments of falling plaster and masonry alone broke the stillness of that living tomb. Meanwhile Fadello reached Rita, who fainted at the first sign of alarm, and seizing, as he supposed, Steila in his arms, forced back the panel, swiftly bore her out through the inner apartment into the hall, and was rushing through the entrance-door, which, fortunately, at the first shock, had been flung wide open, when a voice, which made his heart almost stop beating, wailed out, “0, Tito, Tito, where are you ? Why don’t you come to save me? Help, Tito, help ! Don’t leave me here to die.” Looking upwards whence the voice proceeded, Fadello saw, with mask thrown off, the white, terror-stricken face of his Jimiae , who, clinging to the balustrade of the upper gallery, seemed paralysed with fear and incapable of moving. Reproach shone in hjs eyes as he looked at Stella, hut the words which rose to his lips ho never uttered. Honour and chivalry alike forbade him desert the unconscious girl whom he had unwittingly rescued ; so hastily saying “ I will come directly,” he dashed into the garden, placed the still senseless Rita in safety away from the falling house, and, like a flash, was again hounding upstairs. Stella, to whom the moments seemed hours, had in that brief space fully recognised Fadello’s absorbing love and devotion ; with it came also the knowledge of her own umvorthiness, selfishness, and folly. If she never really loved him before, she did then, and mentally resolved to be a different woman in future. In the future? How much better are not many of us going to he in that charmed coming time? Like others in this life, Stella's good resolution came too late. Too late! What agony those two little words, the saddest refrain of all, often convey ! Tito was already half-way upstairs, when Stella, in a hoarse voice, shouted out, 11 Keep hack ! Oh. keep hack ! The stairs are giving way, try the spiral.' Alas ! Her warning came ton late. A second shook, following on the first, caused the bulging wall to collapse, and with a fearful noise the marble staircase crashed down, hurling Tito backwards. An awful silence followed, broken by a piercing scream from Stella. “I have killed him, I have killed him.” she cried. “ Help ! help ! With a courage born of despair she crept along over fallen rubbish, scarcely daring to breathe, to the far end of the tottering but still erect gallery, to the balcony from which descended the spiral stairs. The steps

and balcony were shattered to pieces, but, by the aid of projecting spikes and irons, she reached the ground with lacer ated hands, but in safety. Kiinniu,' quickly round the garden, she encountered Rita, now recovered, and who was going, she knew not whither. Grasping her arm, Stella said in an unnatural whisper, “ I have killed Tito; he is in there, ’ pointing to the wrecked home, “we must get him out. Gome." Together they passed out of the garden, and a strange scene met their view. Hundreds of people, men, women, and children, in every stage of dress and undress, overcome with dismay, were Hying in every direction, anywhere away from buildings. In vain -Stella implored aid, none would venture near the ruined dwelling then ; most were intent on saving themselves or those dear to them. Dragging Rita hack to the villa, Stella began with supernatural strength removing stones and ihbris from the spot where her lover was entombed. Regardless of bleeding hands, bruised feet, or Rita’s entreaties, she continued her self-imposed task, calling the while most endearingly on her lost lover. In a state bordering on madxess, hearing, as she fancied, a faint groan, poor -Stella redoubled her endeavours to raise a beam, but the strain proved too great, and with one final, supreme effort to remove the obstacle, she dropped senseless to the ground. Rita’s homo was at Oneglia, two or three -stations further up the hue. Hirdly stopping to think how it might have fared with her parents, she determined at all hazards to transport her nnfortnii ite cousin thither. As far as she kn-w no one else had escaped. Raising the exhausted girl, she half earri- -1, half dragged her into the open, and, with kindly aid hole and there, succeeded in gaining the station. For some hours tietrains wen.- interrupted, but tie- first which went on took Kit i and her still helpless companion to Oneglia, where the same consternation prevailed. The station was in pieces. Roofs torn off, windows blown out; the town looked as if it had been newly bombarded. Dead, wounded, and dying, cacdi encountered in turn, did nut tend to reassure Rita, who, leaving Stella in the care of someone, hastened with faltering steps to her home, fearing the worst. Continual tremors and vibrations keptu the affrighted population, who dared not return to their houses, in everincreasing agitation. Trembling in cveiy litn’o, she at length reached home, to find the house, with the exception of sundry cracks, but slightly damaged, and to her intense joy both father and mother uninjured. Having related 5.- freely -as possible the terrible events of th- past, few hours, she returned with them to-Stella, who in the interval had regained consciousness, hut whose reason had H-.-d. With eyes starling from their sockets, she p-n-i-d to and fro, wringing her hands, morning, ‘ Will no one ever come to get him --: p. 11 loved me so dearly, and 1 eav- kiii- i him. Dick, Tito, ha-k ! The .-t;irs going/ and, with a h—.rtrei.ding 'ay ~f pain, she shin!-leriugiy cov red le-r fine, as if to shut oat the awful sight. Tims Rita and her parent- f-.an d :h----hapless Stella, who knew them not. A couple of days or so later, the bulbs of that ill-fated company were being brought to light in all their grotesque carnival finery. It was a ghastly, mocking scene, and one which tho-e wh > witnessed it will never be able totally to efface. Rita,."stella, and one other alone escaped. Hippier in his fate than so many, Tito must have died instantly. A marble Stair, falling across his face, had crushed out all traces of recognition ; by the contents of his pockets eoul-1 he alone be identified. The marked mask, which had become detached during that momentary halt in the hall, was found close to where he had fallen.

Hopelessly insane, Stella is now in an asylum ; lier hair is almost white, an I h.-r ceaseless lay, as she (liars with hernial.at sonic imaginary object, is, Li 11 ip, help ! I have kill' d bin ! I have killed him ! The stairs, I'i'o, pi hack, a'" hack! On that crash! Too late! Toe late! Of the terrible time during that fatal Ash-Wednesday, of the following anxious days and nights spent in tie* open, the agitation of reps ate 1 .-hocks, the devastated district, and the house!—s, starvin'? population, destitute of ev-ry-thiug, it is not the writer's intention h-rc to speak. Hither she would hlot the whole of that dreadful period from memory, hut so to do is impossible without a draught from the coveted waters of Lethe. QfEEx Mae.