Taquisara 
 
The Project Gutenberg EBook of Taquisara, by F. Marion Crawford 
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Title: Taquisara 
Author: F. Marion Crawford 
Release Date: February 12, 2004 [EBook #11050] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 
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TAQUISARA *** 
 
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[Transcriber's note: Both "Matilde" and "Matilda" appear in the source 
text.] 
TAQUISARA 
BY 
F. MARION CRAWFORD 
1895 
 
CHAPTER I.
"Where shall I sign my name?" 
Veronica Serra's thin, dark fingers rolled the old silver penholder 
nervously as she sat at one end of the long library table, looking up at 
the short, stout man who stood beside her. 
"Here, if you please, Excellency," answered Lamberto Squarci, with an 
affable smile. 
His fingers were dark, too, but not thin, and they were smooth and 
dingy and very pointed, a fact which the young princess noticed with 
dislike, as he indicated the spot on the broad sheet of rough, hand-made 
paper, where he wished her to sign. A thrill of repulsion that was strong 
enough to be painful ran through her, and she rolled the penholder still 
more quickly and nervously, so that she almost dropped it, and a little 
blot of ink fell upon the sheet before she had begun to write. 
"Oh! It is of no importance!" said the Neapolitan notary, in a reassuring 
tone. "A little ink more or less!" 
He had some pink blotting-paper ready, and was already applying a 
corner of it to the ink-spot, with the neat skill of a professional scribe. 
"I will erase it when it is dry," he said. "You will not even see it. Now, 
if your Excellency will sign--that will make the will valid." 
Three other persons stood around Donna Veronica as she set the point 
of her pen to the paper, and two of them watched the characters she 
traced, with eager, unwinking eyes. The third was a very insignificant 
personage just then, being but the notary's clerk; but his signature was 
needed as a witness to the will, and he patiently waited for his turn. The 
other two were husband and wife, Gregorio and Matilde, Count and 
Countess Macomer; and the countess was the young girl's aunt, being 
the only sister of Don Tommaso Serra, Prince of Acireale, Veronica's 
dead father. She looked on, with an eager, pleased expression, standing 
upright and bending her head in order to see the point of the pen as it 
moved over the rough paper. Her hands were folded before her, but the 
uppermost one twitched and moved once or twice, as though it would
go out to get possession of the precious document which left her all the 
heiress's great possessions in case of Donna Veronica's death. It was a 
bit of paper well worth having. 
The girl rose, slight and graceful, when she had written her name, and 
the finely chiselled lips had an upward curve of young scorn, as she 
turned from the table, while the notary and his clerk proceeded to 
witness the will. Immediately, the countess smiled, very brightly, 
showing beautiful teeth between smooth red lips, and her strong arms 
went round her young niece. She was a woman at least forty years of 
age, but still handsome. 
"I thank you with all my heart!" she cried. "It is a proof of affection 
which I shall never forget! You will live a hundred years--a thousand, if 
God will it! But the mere wish to leave me your fortune is a token of 
love and esteem which I shall know how to value." 
Donna Veronica kissed her aunt's fresh cheek coldly, and drew back as 
soon as she could. 
"I am glad that you are pleased," she answered in a cool and colourless 
voice. 
She felt that she had said enough, and, so far as she expected any 
thanks, her aunt had said too much. She had made the will and had 
signed it, for the sake of peace, and she asked nothing but peace in 
return. Ever since she had left the convent in which she had been 
educated and had come to live with her aunt, the question of this will 
had arisen at least once every day, and she knew by heart every 
argument which had been invented to induce her to make it. The 
principal one had always been the same. She had been told that if, in 
the inscrutable ways of Providence, she should chance to die young, 
unmarried and childless, the whole of the great Acireale property would    
    
		
	
	
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