chamber by means of the secret staircase. The hour for vengeance had at length come. Margaretha was instantly dispatched to advise two bravoes whose services I had long secured for the occasion, that the moment had arrived when they were to do the work for which they had been so well paid in advance, and by the faithful performance of which they would still further enrich themselves. Within half an hour all the arrangements were completed. Margaretha had retired to her own chamber and the bravoes were concealed with me in the garden. Nor had we long to wait. The private door opened shortly, and two persons appeared on the threshold. The night was clear and beautiful, and from my hiding-place I could discern the fondness of the embrace that marked their parting. And they parted, too, never to meet again in this life!

"Vitangela closed the door--and her lover was pa.s.sing rapidly along amidst the trees in the garden, when a dagger suddenly drank his heart's blood. That dagger was mine, and wielded by my hand! He fell without a groan--dead, stone-dead at my feet. Half of my vengeance was now accomplished; the other half was yet to be consummated. Without a moment's unnecessary delay the corpse was conveyed to a cellar beneath the northern wing of the mansion: and the two bravoes then hastened, to Vitangela's chamber, into which they obtained admission by forcing the door of the private staircase. In pursuance of the orders which they had received from me, they bound and gagged her, and conveyed her through the garden to the very cellar where, by the light of a gloomy lamp, she beheld her husband standing close by a corpse!

"'Bring her near!' I exclaimed, unmoved by the looks of indescribable horror which she threw around.

"When her eyes caught sight of the countenance of that lifeless being, they remained fixed with frenzied wildness in their sockets, and even if there had been no gag between her teeth, I do not believe that she could have uttered a syllable. And now commenced the second act in this appalling tragedy! While one of the bravoes held the countess in his iron grasp, in such a manner that she could not avert her head, the other, who had once been a surgeon, tore away the garments from the corpse, and commenced the task which I had before a.s.signed to him. And as the merciless scalpel hacked and hewed away at the still almost palpitating flesh of the murdered man, in whose breast the dagger remained deeply buried,--a ferocious joy--a savage, hyena-like triumph filled my soul; and I experienced no remorse for the deed I had done!

Far--very far from that--for as the work progressed, I exclaimed--

"'Behold, Vitangela, how the scalpel hews that form so loved by thee!

Now hack away at the countenance--deface that beauty--pick out those mild blue eyes!'--and I laughed madly!

"The countess fainted, and I ordered her to be carried back to her apartment, where Margaretha awaited her. Indeed I had naturally foreseen that insensibility would result from the appalling spectacle which I compelled my wife to witness: and Margaretha was prepared to breathe dreadful menaces in her ears the moment she should recover--menaces of death to herself and both her children if she should reveal, even to her father confessor, one t.i.ttle of the scene which that night had been enacted! The surgeon-bravo did his work bravely; and the man who had dishonored me was reduced to naught save a skeleton! The flesh and the garments were buried deep in the cellar; the skeleton was conveyed to my own chamber, and suspended to a beam in the closet where you, Francisco, and your bride, are destined to behold it--ALONG WITH ANOTHER!

"My vengeance was thus far gratified--the bravos were dismissed, and I locked myself up in my chamber for several days, to brood upon all I had done, and occasionally to feast my eyes with the grim remains of him who had dared to love my wife. During those days of seclusion I would see no one save the servant who brought me my meals. From him I learnt that the countess was dangerously ill--that she was indeed dying, and that she besought me to visit her if only for a moment. But I refused--implacably refused. I was convinced that she craved my forgiveness; and that I could not give.

"Dr. Duras, who attended upon her, came to the door of my chamber and implored me to grant him an interview:--then Nisida sought a similar boon; but I was deaf to each and all.

"Yes--for there was still a being on whom I yet longed to wreak my vengeance;--and that being was yourself, Francisco? I looked upon you as the living evidence of my dishonor--the memorial of your mother's boundless guilt. But I recoiled in horror from the idea of staining my hands with the blood of a little child--yet I feared if I came near you--if I saw your clinging affectionately to Vitangela--if I heard you innocently and unconsciously mock me by calling me 'father!'--I felt I should be unable to restrain the fury of my wrath!

"I know not how long I should have remained in the seclusion of my own chamber--perhaps weeks and months, but one morning shortly after daybreak, I was informed by the only servant whom I would admit near me, that the countess had breathed her last during the night, and that Nisida was so deeply affected by her mother's death, that she, poor girl, was dangerously ill. Then I became frantic on account of my daughter; and I quitted my apartment, not only to see that proper aid was administered to her, but to complete the scheme of vengeance which I had originally formed. Thus, in the first place, Dr. Duras was enjoined to take up his abode altogether in the Riverola Palace, so long as Nisida should require his services; and, on the other hand, a splendid funeral was ordered for the Countess Riverola. But Vitangela's remains went not in the velvet-covered coffin to the family vault;--no--her flesh was buried in the same soil where rotted the flesh of her paramour--and her skeleton was suspended from the same beam to which his bones had been already hung. For I thought within myself: 'This is the first time that the wife of a Count of Riverola has ever brought dishonor and disgrace upon her husband; and I will take care that it shall be the last. To Nisida will I leave all my estates--all my wealth, save a miserable pittance as an inheritance for the b.a.s.t.a.r.d Francisco.

She shall inherit the t.i.tle, and the man on whom she may confer her hand shall be the next Count of Riverola. The wedding-day will be marked by a revelation of the mystery of this cabinet; and the awful spectacle will teach him, whoever he may be, to watch his wife narrowly--and will teach _her_ what it is to prove unfaithful to a fond husband! To both, the lesson will be as useful as the manner of conveying it will be frightful, and they will hand down the tradition to future scions of the Riverola family. Francisco, too, shall learn the secrets of the cabinet; he shall be taught why he is disinherited--why I have hated him: and thus even from the other world shall the spirits of the vile paramour and the adulterous wife behold the consequences of their crime perpetuated in this.'

"Such were my thoughts--such were my intentions. But an appalling calamity forced me to change my views. Nisida, after a long and painful illness, became deaf and dumb; and Dr. Duras gave me no hope of the restoration of her lost faculties.

"Terrible visitation! Then was it that I reasoned with myself--that I deliberated long and earnestly upon the course which I should pursue. It was improbable that, afflicted as Nisida was, she would ever marry; and I felt grieved, deeply grieved, to think that you, Francisco, being disinherited, and Nisida remaining single, the proud t.i.tle of Riverola would become extinct; I therefore resolved on the less painful alternative of disinheriting you altogether; and I accordingly made a will by which I left you the estates, with the contingent t.i.tle Count of Riverola, under certain conditions which might yet alienate both property and rank from you, and endow therewith your sister Nisida. For should she recover the faculties of speech and hearing by the time she shall have attained the age of thirty-six, she will yet be marriageable and may have issue; but should that era in her life pa.s.s, and she still be deaf and dumb, all hope of her recovery will be dead!

"Thus if she still be so deeply afflicted at that age, you, Francisco, will inherit the vast estates and the lordly t.i.tle which, through the circ.u.mstances of your birth, it grieves me to believe will ever devolve upon you.

"Such were my motives for making that will which you are destined to hear read, doubtless before the time comes for you to peruse this ma.n.u.script. And having made that will, and experiencing the sad certainty that my unfortunate daughter will never become qualified to inherit my t.i.tle and fortune, but that the name of Riverola must be perpetuated through your marriage, I have determined that to you and to your bride alone shall the dread secrets of the cabinet be revealed."

Thus terminated the ma.n.u.script.

Powerful in meaning and strong in expression as the English language may be rendered by one who has the least experience in the proper combination of words, yet it becomes totally inadequate to the task of conveying an idea of those feelings--those harrowing emotions--those horrifying sentiments, which were excited in the b.r.e.a.s.t.s of Francisco di Riverola and the beautiful Flora by the revolution of the ma.n.u.script. At first the doc.u.ment begat a deep and mournful interest, as it related the interviews of the late count with Vitangela in the streets of Naples; then amazement was engendered by the announcement of that lovely and unhappy being's ignominious parentage--but a calmness was diffused through the minds of Flora and Francisco, as if they had found a resting place amidst the exciting incidents of the narrative when they reached that part which mentioned the marriage.

Their feelings were, however, destined to be speedily and most painfully wrung once more; and Francisco could scarcely restrain his indignation--yes, his indignation even against the memory of his deceased father--when he perused those injurious suspicions which were recorded in reference to the honor of his mother. Though unable to explain the mystery in which all that part of the narrative was involved, yet he felt firmly convinced that his mother was innocent; and he frequently interrupted himself in the perusal of the ma.n.u.script to give utterance to pa.s.sionate e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns expressive of that opinion.

But it was when the hideous tragedy rapidly developed itself, and the history of the presence of two skeletons in the closet was detailed, it was then that language became powerless to describe the mingled wrath and disgust which Francisco felt, or to delineate the emotions of boundless horror and wild amazement that were excited in the bosom of Flora. In spasmodic shuddering did the young countess cling to her husband when she had learned how fearfully accurate was the manner in which the few lines of the ma.n.u.script which she had read many months previously in Nisida's boudoir, fitted in the text, and how appalling was the tale which the entire made. She was cruelly shocked, and her heart bled for that fine young man whom she was so proud to call her husband, but whom his late father had loathed to recognize as a son. And Nisida--what were her feelings as she lay stretched upon a couch, listening to the contents of the ma.n.u.script which she had read before?

At first one hope--one idea was dominant in her soul, the hope that Flora would be crushed even to death by revelations which were indeed almost sufficient to overwhelm a gentle disposition and freeze the vital current in the tender and compa.s.sionate heart.

But as Francisco read on, and when he came to those pa.s.sages which described the sufferings and the cruel fate of her mother, then Nisida became a prey to the most torturing feelings--dreadful emotions were expressed by her convulsed countenance and wildly-glaring eyes--and she muttered deep and bitter anathemas against the memory of her own father.

For well does the reader know that she had loved her mother to distraction; and thus the horrifying detail of the injuries heaped upon the head and on the name of that revered parent aroused all her fiercest pa.s.sions of rage and hate as completely as if that history had been new to her, and as if she were now becoming acquainted with it for the first time. Indeed, so powerful, so terrible, was the effect produced by the revival of all those dread reminiscences and heart-rending emotions on the part of Nisida that, forgetting her malignant spite and her infernal hope with regard to Flora, she threw her whole soul into the subject of the ma.n.u.script: and the torrent of feelings to which she thus gave way was crushing and overwhelming to a woman of such fierce pa.s.sions, and who had received so awful a shock as that which had stretched her on the couch where she now lay. For the fate of him whom she had loved with such ardor, and the revulsion that her affection experienced on account of the ghastly spectacle which Wagner presented to her view in his dying moments--the disgust and loathing which had been inspired in her mind by the thought that she had ever fondled that being in her arms and absolutely doted on the superhuman beauty that had changed to such revolting ugliness, it was all this that had struck her down--paralyzed her--inflicted a mortal, though not an instantaneous blow upon that woman so lately full of energy, so strong in moral courage, and so full of vigorous health. Thus impressed with the conviction that her end was approaching, the moment the perusal of the ma.n.u.script was concluded the Lady Nisida said, in a faint and dying tone of voice:

"Francisco, draw near--as near as possible--and listen to what I have now to communicate, for it is in my power to clear up all doubt, all mystery relative to the honor of our sainted mother, and convince thee that no stigma, no disgrace attaches itself to thy birth!"

"Alas! my beloved sister," exclaimed the young count, "you speak in a faint voice, you are very ill! In the name of the Holy Virgin! I conjure you to allow me to send for Dr. Duras!"

"No, Francisco," said Nisida, her voice recovering somewhat of its power as she continued to address him: "I implore you to let me have my own way, to follow my own inclinations! Do not thwart me, Francisco; already I feel as if molten lead were pouring through my brain, and a tremendous weight lies upon my heart! Forbear, then, from irritating me, my well-beloved Francisco----"

"Oh! Nisida," cried the young count, throwing his arms around his sister's neck and embracing her fondly; "if you love me now, if you ever loved me, grant me one boon! By the memory of our sainted mother I implore you, by your affection for her I adjure you, Nisida----"

"Speak, speak, Francisco," interrupted his sister, hastily: "I can almost divine the nature of the boon you crave--and--my G.o.d!" she added, tears starting from her eyes, as a painful thought flashed across her brain,--"perhaps I have been too harsh--too severe! At all events, it is not now--on my death-bed--that I can nurse resentment----"

"Your death-bed!" echoed Francisco, in a tone or acute anguish, while the sobs which convulsed the bosom of the young countess were heard alike by him and his sister.

"Yes, dearest brother, I am dying," said Nisida, in a voice of profound and mournful conviction; "and therefore let me not delay those duties and those explanations which can alone unburden my heart of the weight that lies upon it! And first, Francisco, be thy boon granted--for I know that thou wouldst speak to me of her who is now thy bride. Come to my arms, then. Flora, embrace me as a sister, and forgive me if thou canst, for I have been a fierce and unrelenting enemy to thee!"

"Oh, let the past be forgotten, my friend, my sister!" exclaimed the weeping Flora, as she threw herself into Nisida's outstretched arms.

And the young wife and the young woman embraced each other tenderly--for deep regrets and pungent remorse at last attuned the mind of Nisida to sweet and holy sympathy.

"And now," said Nisida, "sit down by my side, and listen to the explanations which I have promised. Give me your hand. Flora, dear Flora, let me retain it in mine; for at the last hour, and when I am about to leave this fair and beauteous earth, I feel an ardent longing to love those who walk upon its face, and to be loved by them in return.

But, alas, alas!" she added, somewhat bitterly, "reflections and yearnings of this nature come too late! O Flora! the picture of life is spread before you--while from me it is rapidly receding, and dissolving into the past. Like our own fair city of palaces and flowers, when seen from a distance beneath the glorious lights of the morning, may that glorious picture continue to appear to thee; and may'st thou never draw near enough to recognize the false splendors in which gorgeous hues may deck the things of this world; may'st thou never be brought so close to the sad realities of existence as to be forced to contemplate the breaking hearts that dwell in palaces, or to view in disgust the slime upon flowers."

"Nisida," said Francisco, bending over his sister, and speaking in a voice indicative of deep emotion, "the kind words you utter to my beloved Flora shall ever--ever remain engraven upon my heart."

"And on mine also," murmured the young countess, pressing Nisida's hand with grateful ardor, while her eyes, radiant with very softness, threw a glance of pa.s.sionate tenderness upon her generous-hearted and handsome husband.

"Listen to me," resumed Nisida, after a short pause, during which she gave way to all the luxury of those sweet and holy reflections which the present scene engendered: and these were the happiest moments of the lady's stormy life. "Listen to me," she repeated; "and let me enter upon and make an end of my explanations as speedily as possible. And first, Francisco, relative to our sainted--our innocent--our deeply-wronged and much-injured mother. You have already learned that she was the daughter of the public executioner of Naples; and you have heard that ere she became our father's wife she swore a solemn oath--she pledged herself in the most solemn manner that she would never even allude to her family--that she would not communicate to them the name of her husband nor the place of his abode, under any circ.u.mstances--in a word, that she would consider her father and brother as dead to her! And yet she had a tender heart; and after she became the Countess of Riverola she very often thought of the parent who had reared her tenderly and loved her affectionately; she thought also of her brother Eugenio, who had ever been so devoted to his sister. But she kept her promise faithfully for five years; until that fatal day of April, 1500, which our father has so emphatically mentioned in his narrative. It was in the garden belonging to the ducal palace that she suddenly encountered her brother Eugenio----"

"Her brother!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Francisco, joyfully. "Oh! I knew, I felt certain that she was innocent."

"Yes, she was indeed innocent," repeated Nisida, "But let me pursue my explanations as succinctly as possible. It appeared that the old man--the executioner of Naples--was no more; and Eugenio, possessing himself of the h.o.a.rdings of his deceased father, had fled from his native city to avoid the dread necessity of a.s.suming the abhorrent office. Accident led the young adventurer to Florence in search of a more agreeable employment as a means whereby to earn his livelihood, and having formed the acquaintance of one of the duke's valets, he obtained admittance to the gardens on that memorable evening when the grand entertainment was given. In spite of the strict injunctions he had received not to approach the places occupied by the distinguished guests, he drew near the arbor in which our mother had been conversing with other ladies, but where she was at that moment alone. The recognition was immediate, and they flew into each other's arms. It would have been useless, as well as unnatural, for our mother to have refused to reveal her rank and name; her brilliant attire was sufficient to convince her brother that the former was high, and inquiry would speedily have made him acquainted with the latter. She accordingly drew him apart into a secluded walk and told him all; but she implored him to quit Florence without delay, and she gave him her purse and one of her rich bracelets, thereby placing ample resources at his disposal. Five years pa.s.sed away, and during that period she heard no more of her brother Eugenio. But at the expiration of that interval she received a note stating that he was again in Florence--that necessity had alone brought him hither, and that he would be at a particular place at a certain hour to meet either herself or some confidential person whom she might instruct to see him. Our mother filled a bag with gold, and put into it some of her choicest jewels, and thus provided, she repaired in person to the place of appointment. It grieved her generous heart thus to be compelled to meet her brother secretly, as if he were a common robber or a midnight bravo; but for her husband's peace, and in obedience to the spirit of the oath which imperious circ.u.mstances had alone led her in some degree to violate, she was forced to adopt that sad and humiliating alternative."

"Alas! poor mother!" sobbed Francisco, deeply affected by this narrative.

"Again did five years elapse without bringing tidings to our mother of Eugenio," continued Nisida, "and then he once more set foot in Florence.

The world bad not used him well--Fortune had frowned upon him--and, though a young man of fine spirit and n.o.ble disposition, he failed in all his endeavors to carve out a successful career for himself. Our mother determined to accord him an interview in her own apartment. She longed to converse with him at her ease--to hear his tale from his own lips--to sympathize with and console him. Oh! who could blame her if in so doing she departed from the strict and literal meaning of that vow which had bound her to consider her relations as dead to her? But the fault--if fault it were--was so venial, that to justify it is to invest it with an importance which it would not have possessed save for the frightful results to which it led. You have already heard how foully he was waylaid, how ruthlessly he was murdered! Holy Virgin! my brain whirls when I reflect upon that hideous cruelty which made our mother the spectator of his dissection; for, even had he been a lover--even were she guilty--even if the suspicions of our father had all been well-founded----"

"Dwell not upon this frightful topic, my beloved Nisida!" exclaimed Francisco, perceiving that she was again becoming greatly excited, for her eyes dilated and glared wildly, her bosom heaved in awful convulsions, and she tossed her arms frantically about.

"No, I will not--I dare not pause to ponder thereon," she said, falling back upon the pillow, and pressing her hands to that proud and haughty brow behind which the active, racking brain appeared to be on fire.

"Tranquilize yourself, dearest sister," murmured Flora, bending over the couch and pressing her lips on Nisida's burning cheek.

"I will, I will, Flora, whom I now love as much as I once hated!"

exclaimed the dying lady. "But let me make an end of my explanations.

You already know that our dear mother was gagged when she was compelled to witness the horrible deeds enacted in the subterranean charnel-house by the dim light of a sickly lamp; but even if she had not been, no word would have issued from her lips, as the ma.n.u.script justly observes.

During her illness, however, she sought an interview with her husband for the purpose of proving to him her complete innocence, by revealing the fact that his victim was her own brother! But he refused all the entreaties proffered with that object, and our unfortunate mother was forced to contemplate the approach of death with the sad conviction that she should pa.s.s away without the satisfaction of establishing her guiltlessness in the eyes of our father. Then was it that she revealed everything to me--to me alone--to me, a young girl of only fifteen when those astounding facts were breathed into my ears. I listened with horror, and I began to hate my father, for I adored my mother. She implored me not to give way to any intemperate language or burst of pa.s.sion which might induce the inmates of the mansion to suspect that I was the depositary of some terrible secret.

"'For,' said our mother, when on her death-bed, 'if I have ventured to shock your young mind by so appalling a revelation, it is only that you may understand wherefore I am about to bind you by a solemn vow to love, protect, and watch over Francisco, as if he were your own child, rather than your brother. His father, alas! hates him. This I have observed ever since the birth of that dear boy, but it is only by means of the dread occurrence of the other night that I have been able to divine the origin of that dislike and unnatural loathing. Your father, Nisida,'

continued my mother, 'believes that I have been unfaithful, and suspects that Francisco is the offspring of a guilty _amour_. With this terrible impression upon his mind, he may persecute my poor boy; he may disinherit him; he may even seek to rid him of life. Kneel, then, by my bedside, Nisida, and swear by all you deem sacred--by the love you bear for me--and by your hopes of salvation, that you will watch unweariedly and unceasingly over the welfare and the interests of Francisco--that you will make any sacrifice, incur any danger, or undergo any privation, to save him from the effects of his father's hate--that you will exert all possible means to cause the t.i.tle and fortune of his father to descend to him, and that you will in no case consent to supplant him in those respects--and lastly, that you will keep secret the dread history of my brother's fate and your knowledge of your father's crime.' To all these conditions of the vow I solemnly and sacredly pledged myself, calling Heaven to witness the oath. But I said to our mother, 'My father will not forever remain locked up in his own apartment; he will come forth sooner or later, and I must have an opportunity of speaking to him. May I not justify you, my dear mother, in his eyes? May I not a.s.sure him that Eugenio was your brother? He will then cease to hate Francisco, and may even love him as he loves me; and you may then have no fears on his account."

"'Alas! the plan which you suggest may not be put into execution,'

replied our dying mother; 'for were your father to be aware that I had revealed the occurrences of that dread night to you, Nisida, he would feel that he must be ever looked upon as a murderer by his own child!

Moreover, such appears to be the sad and benighted state of his mind, that he might peradventure deem the tale relative to Eugenio a mere excuse and vile subterfuge. No; I must perish disgraced in his eyes, unless he should accord ere I die, the interview which yourself and the good Dr. Duras have so vainly implored him to grant me.'

"Our dear mother then proceeded to give me other instructions, Francisco, relative to yourself; but these," added Nisida, glancing toward Flora, "would _now_ be painful to unfold. And yet," she continued, hastily, as a second thought struck her, "it is impossible, my sweet Flora, that you can be weak-minded--for you have this day seen and heard enough to test your mental powers to the extreme possibility of their endurance. Moreover, I feel that my conduct toward you requires a complete justification; and that justification will be found in the last instructions which I received from the lips of my mother."