Page:Lippincotts Monthly Magazine-34.djvu/221

SEPTEMBER, 1884.

ON ROBERTO D'RUBIERA, Duke of Cagliostro and Marquis of Subvite, had a man-servant, Michele, who never called him anything but "Il Signor Colonello," though the colonel had left the army on coming into possession of his title.

When he was but a poor Piedmontese lieutenant, with no expectation of any fortune outside the army, but with a most firm intention of rising there, Michele had blacked his boots, run his errands, and adored him with his whole heart. A mountain-lad with an ugly, intelligent face, a small body as tough as a block of oak wood, a courageous heart, and no more idea of rising above the station to which he was born than be had of dissolving into mist, all that he felt of ambition was centred in his master. It might be said that he was in love with the young lieutenant. His delight was to serve him, to gaze at him as he mounted his horse to ride away, and to watch for his return. He treasured his cast-off garments as a lover treasures his lady's glove; and woe to the fellow ordinanza who should dare to intimate that his master was a more gallant soldier, a handsomer man, or a more accomplished gentleman than the Signor Don Roberto!

D'Rubiera had risen as he intended,—the first steps rapidly made; but the grade of colonel had been delayed, contested, and for a time doubtful of attainment. While it remained so, Michele lost his appetite, his sleep, and his healthy color, and finally, when the promotion was obtained, nearly fainted with the sudden delight and triumph.

"Now I am content, Michele," his master said joyously. "I don't want to make another step till my hair begins to be gray. It's a fine title, that of colonel. It means a column, you know. I have become a column in our defensive structure. Before, I was only a stone in the wall. Why, what's the matter, boy? What are you crying for?"

"I'm—I'm—I'm so glad, Signor Colonello!" said poor Michele, wiping his tears away with both coat-sleeves and trying not to sob.

The handsome young officer stared, and stood for a moment serious and thoughtful, a softer light than that of gratified pride dawning in his face. Then he took a step forward, put his arm around Michcle's shoulder, and kissed him on both checks.

"Stand by me, and I'll stand by you as long as I live," he said. " When you