"It was about six months ago that I repaired as usual on the Sabbath morning to ma.s.s, accompanied by Dame Margaretha, when I found myself the object of some attention on the part of a lady, who was kneeling at a short distance from the place which I occupied in the church. The lady was enveloped in a dark, thick veil, the ample folds of which concealed her countenance, and meandered over her whole body's splendidly symmetrical length of limb in such a manner as to aid her rich attire in shaping, rather than hiding, the contours of that matchless form. I was struck by her fine proportions, which gave her, even in her kneeling att.i.tude, a queen-like and majestic air; and I longed to obtain a glimpse of her countenance--the more so as I could perceive by her manner and the position of her head that from beneath her dark veil her eyes were intently fixed upon myself. At length the scrutiny to which I was thus subjected began to grow so irksome--nay, even alarming, that I hurriedly drew down my own veil, which I had raised through respect for the sacred altar whereat I was kneeling. Still I knew that the stranger lady was gazing on me; I _felt_ that she was. A certain uneasy sensation--amounting almost to a superst.i.tious awe--convinced me that I was the object of her undivided attention. Suddenly the priests, in procession, came down from the altar; and as they pa.s.sed us, I instinctively raised my veil again, through motives of deferential respect. At the same instant I glanced toward the stranger lady; she also drew back the dark covering from her face. Oh! what a countenance was then revealed to me--a countenance of such sovereign beauty that, though of the same s.e.x, I was struck with admiration; but, in the next moment, a thrill of terror shot through my heart--for the fascination of the basilisk could scarcely paralyze its victim with more appalling effect than did the eyes of that lady. It might be conscience qualms, excited by some unknown influence--it might even have been imagination; but it nevertheless appeared as if those large, black, burning orbs shot forth lightnings which seared and scorched my very soul! For that splendid countenance, of almost unearthly beauty, was suddenly marked by an expression of such vindictive rage, such ineffable hatred, such ferocious menace, that I should have screamed had I not been as it were stunned--stupefied!

"The procession of priests swept past. I averted my head from the stranger lady. In a few moments I again glanced hurriedly at the place which she had occupied--but she was gone. Then I felt relieved! On quitting the church, I frankly narrated to old Margaretha these particulars as I have now unfolded them to you; and methought that she was for a moment troubled as I spoke! But if she were, she speedily recovered her composure--endeavored to soothe me by attributing it all to my imagination, and earnestly advised me not to cause any uneasiness to the count by mentioning the subject to him. I readily promised compliance with this injunction; and in the course of a few days ceased to think upon the incident which has made so strange but evanescent an impression on my mind."

"Doubtless Dame Margaretha was right in her conjecture," said Wagner; "and your imagination----"

"Oh, no--no! It was not fancy!" interrupted Agnes, hastily. "But listen, and then judge for yourself. I informed you ere now that it was about six months ago when the event which I have just related took place. At that period, also, my n.o.ble lover--the ever-to be lamented Andrea--first experienced the symptoms of that internal disease which has, alas!

carried him to the tomb."

Agnes paused, wiped away her tears, and continued thus:

"His visits to me consequently became less frequent;--I was more alone--for Margaretha was not always a companion who could solace me for the absence of one so dearly loved as my Andrea; and repeated fits of deep despondency seized upon my soul. At those times I felt as if some evil--vague and undefinable, but still terrible--were impending over me.

Was it my lord's approaching death of which I had a presentiment? I know not! Weeks pa.s.sed away; the count's visits occurred at intervals growing longer and longer--but his affection toward me had not abated. No: a malady that preyed upon his vitals retained him much at home;--and at last, about two months ago, I received through Antonio the afflicting intelligence that he was confined to his bed. My anguish now knew no bounds. I would fly to him--oh! I would fly to him:--who was more worthy to watch by his couch than I, who so dearly loved him! Dame Margaretha represented to me how painful it would be to his lordship were our _amour_ to transpire through any rash proceeding on my part--the more so, as I knew that he had a daughter and a son! I accordingly restrained my impetuous longing to hasten to his bedside:--I could not so easily subdue my grief!

"One night I sat up late in my lonely chamber--pondering on the melancholy position in which I was placed,--loving so tenderly, yet not daring to fly to him whom I loved,--and giving way to all the mournful ideas which presented themselves to my imagination. At length my mind grew bewildered by those sad reflections; vague terrors gathered around me--multiplying in number and augmenting in intensity,--until at length the very figures on the tapestry with which the room was hung appeared animated with power to scare and affright me. The wind moaned ominously without, and raised strange echoes within; oppressive feelings crowded on my soul. At length the gale swelled to a hurricane--a whirlwind, seldom experienced in this delicious clime. Howlings in a thousand tones appeared to flit through the air; and piercing lamentations seemed to sound down the black clouds that rolled their mighty volumes together, veiling the moon and stars in thickest gloom. Overcome with terror, I retired to rest--and I slept. But troubled dreams haunted me throughout the night, and I awoke at an early hour in the morning. But--holy angels protect me!--what did I behold? Bending over me, as I lay, was that same countenance which I had seen four months before in the church,--and now, as it was _then_, darting upon me lightning from large black eyes that seemed to send shafts of flame and fire to the inmost recesses of my soul! Yet--distorted as it was with demoniac rage--that face was still endowed with the queen-like beauty--the majesty of loveliness, which had before struck me, and which even lent force to those looks of dreadful menace that were fixed upon me. There were the high forehead--the proud lip, curled in scorn,--the brilliant teeth, glistening between the quivering vermilion,--and the swan-like arching of the dazzling neck; there also was the dark glory of the luxuriant hair!

"For a few moments I was spell-bound--motionless--speechless. Clothed with terror and sublimity, yet in all the flush of the most perfect beauty, a strange--mysterious being stood over me: and I knew not whether she were a denizen of this world, or a spirit risen from another. Perhaps the transcendent loveliness of that countenance was but a mask and the wondrous symmetry of that form but a disguise, beneath which all the pa.s.sions of h.e.l.l were raging in the brain and in the heart of a fiend. Such were the ideas that flashed through my imagination; and I involuntarily closed my eyes, as if this action could avert the malignity that appeared to menace me. But dreadful thoughts still pursued me--enveloping me, as it were, in an oppressive mist wherein appalling though dimly seen images and forms were agitating; and I again opened my eyes. The lady--if an earthly being she really were--was gone.

I rose from my couch and glanced nervously around--expecting almost to behold an apparition come forth from behind the tapestry, or the folds of the curtains. But my attention was suddenly arrested by a fact more germane to worldly occurrences. The casket wherein I kept the rich presents made to me at different times by my Andrea had been forced open and the most valuable portion of its contents were gone. On a closer investigation I observed that the articles which were left were those that were purchased new; whereas the jewels that had been abstracted were old ones, which, as the count had informed me, had belonged to his deceased wife.

"On discovering this robbery, I began to suspect that my mysterious visitress, who had caused me so much alarm, was the thief of my property; and I immediately summoned old Margaretha. She was of course astounded at the occurrence which I related; and, after some reflection, she suddenly remembered that she had forgotten to fasten the house-door ere she retired to rest on the preceding evening. I chided her for a neglect which had enabled some evil-disposed woman to penetrate into my chamber, and not only terrify but also plunder me. She implored my forgiveness, and besought me not to mention the incident to the count when next we met. Alas! my n.o.ble Andrea and I never met again.

"I was sorely perplexed by the event which I have just related. If the mysterious visitress were a common thief, why did she leave any of the jewels in the casket? and wherefore had she on two occasions contemplated me with looks of such dark rage and infernal menace? A thought struck me. Could the count's daughter have discovered our _amour_? and was it she who had come to gain possession of jewels belonging to the family? I hinted my suspicions to Margaretha; but she speedily convinced me that they were unfounded.

"'The Lady Nisida is deaf and dumb,' she said, 'and cannot possibly exercise such faculties of observation, nor adopt such means of obtaining information as would make her acquainted with all that has occurred between her father and yourself. Besides--she is constantly in attendance on her sire, who is very, very ill.

"I now perceived the improbability of a deaf and dumb female discovering an _amour_ so carefully concealed; but to a.s.sure myself more fully on that head, I desired Margaretha to describe the Lady Nisida. This she readily did, and I learnt from her that the count's daughter was of a beauty quite different from the lady whom I had seen in the church and in my own chamber. In a word, it appears that Nisida has light hair, blue eyes and a delicate form: whereas, the object of my interest, curiosity, and fear, is a woman of dark Italian loveliness.

"I have little more now to say. The loss of the jewels and the recollection of the mysterious lady were soon absorbed in the distressing thoughts which the serious illness of the count forced upon my mind. Weeks pa.s.sed away, and he came not; but he sent repeated messages by Antonio, imploring me to console myself, as he should soon recover, and urging me not to take any step that might betray the existence of our _amour_. Need I say how religiously I obeyed him in the latter respect? Day after day did I hope to see him again, for I knew not that he was dying: and I used to dress myself in my gayest attire--even as now I am appareled--to welcome his expected visit. Alas!

he never came; and his death was concealed from me, doubtless that the sad event might not be communicated until after the funeral, lest in the first frenzy of anguish I should rush to the Riverola palace to imprint a last kiss upon the cheek of the corpse. But a few hours ago, I learned the whole truth from two female friends of Dame Margaretha who called to visit her, and whom I had hastened to inform that she was temporarily absent. My n.o.ble Andrea was dead, and at that very moment his funeral obsequies were being celebrated in the neighboring church--the very church in which I had first beheld the mysterious lady! Frantic with grief--unmindful of the exposure that would ensue--reckless of the consequences, I left the house--I hastened to the church--I intruded my presence amidst the mourners. You know the rest, Fernand. It only remains for me to say that the countenance which I beheld ere now at the window--strongly delineated and darkly conspicuous amidst the blaze of light outside the cas.e.m.e.nt--was that of the lady whom I have thus seen for the third time! But, tell me, Fernand, how could a stranger thus obtain admission to the gardens of your mansion?"

"You see yon lights, Agnes!" said Wagner, pointing toward the mansion which, as we stated at the commencement of that chapter, was situated at a distance of about two hundred yards from Fernand's dwelling, the backs of the two houses thus looking toward each other. "Those lights," he continued, "are shining in a mansion the gardens of which are separated from my own by a simple hedge of evergreens, that would not bar even the pa.s.sage of a child. Should any inmate of that mansion possess curiosity sufficient to induce him or her to cross the boundary, traverse my gardens, and approach the cas.e.m.e.nts of my residence, that curiosity may be easily gratified."

"And to whom does yon mansion belong?" asked Agnes.

"To Dr. Duras, an eminent physician," was the reply.

"Dr. Duras, the physician who attended my n.o.ble Andrea in his illness!"

exclaimed Agnes. "Then the mysterious lady of whom I have spoken so much, and whose countenance ere now appeared at the cas.e.m.e.nt, must be an inmate of the house of Dr. Duras; or at all events, a visitor there! Ah!

surely there is some connection between that lady and the family at Riverola?"

"Time will solve the mystery, dearest sister, for so I am henceforth to call you," said Fernand. "But beneath this roof, no harm can menace you.

And now let me summon good Dame Paula, my housekeeper, to conduct you to the apartments which have been prepared for your reception. The morning is far advanced, and we both stand in need of rest."

Dame Paula, an elderly, good-tempered, kind-hearted matron, shortly made her appearance; and to her charge did Wagner consign his newly-found relative, whom he now represented to be his sister.

But as Agnes accompanied the worthy woman from the apartment, she shuddered involuntarily as she pa.s.sed the frame which was covered with the black cloth, and which seemed ominous amidst the blaze of light that filled the room.

CHAPTER X.

FRANCISCO, WAGNER AND NISIDA.

On the ensuing evening, Francisco, Count of Riverola, was seated in one of the splendid saloons of his palace, pondering upon the strange injunction which he had received from his deceased father, relative to the mysterious closet, when Wagner was announced.

Francisco rose to receive him, saying in a cordial though melancholy tone, "Signor, I expected you."

"And let me hasten to express the regret which I experienced at having addressed your lordship coldly and haughtily last night," exclaimed Wagner. "But, at the moment, I only beheld in you the son of him who had dishonored a being very dear to my heart."

"I can well understand your feelings on that occasion, signor," replied Francisco. "Alas! the sins of the fathers are too often visited upon the children in this world. But, in whatever direction our present conversation may turn, I implore you to spare as much as possible the memory of my sire."

"Think not, my lord," said Wagner, "that I should be so ungenerous as to reproach you for a deed in which you had no concern, and over which you exercised no control. Nor should I inflict so deep an injury upon you, as to speak in disrespectful terms of him who was the author of your being, but who is now no more."

"Your kind language has already made me your friend," exclaimed Francisco. "And now point out to me in what manner I can in any way repair--or mitigate--the wrong done to that fair creature in whom you express yourself interested."

"That young lady is my sister," said Wagner, emphatically.

"Your sister, signor! And yet, meseems, she recognized you not----"

"Long years have pa.s.sed since we saw each other," interrupted Fernand; "for we were separated in our childhood."

"And did you not both speak of some relative--an old man who once dwelt on the confines of the Black Forest of Germany, but who is now in Florence?" asked Francisco.

"Alas! that old man is no more," returned Wagner. "I did but use his name to induce Agnes to place confidence in me, and allow me to withdraw her from a scene which her wild grief so unpleasantly interrupted; for I thought that were I then and there to announce myself as her brother, she might not believe me--she might suspect some treachery or snare in a city so notoriously profligate as Florence. But the subsequent explanations which took place between us cleared up all doubts on that subject."

"I am well pleased to hear that the poor girl has found so near a relative and so dear a friend, signor," said Francisco. "And now acquaint me, I pray thee, with the means whereby I may, to some extent, repair the injury your sister has sustained at the hands of him whose memory I implore you to spare!"

"Wealth I possess in abundance--oh! far greater abundance than is necessary to satisfy all my wants!" exclaimed Wagner, with something of bitterness and regret in his tone; "but, even were I poor, gold would not restore my sister's honor. No--let that subject, however, pa.s.s. I would only ask you, count, whether there be any scion of your family--any lady connected with you--who answers this description?"

And Wagner proceeded to delineate, in minute terms, the portraiture of the mysterious lady who had inspired Agnes on three occasions with so much terror, and whom Agnes herself had depicted in such glowing language.

"Signor! you are describing the Lady Nisida, my sister!" exclaimed Francisco, struck with astonishment at the fidelity of the portrait thus verbally drawn.

"Your sister, my lord!" cried Wagner. "Then has Dame Margaretha deceived Agnes in representing the Lady Nisida to be rather a beauty of the cold north than of the sunny south."

"Dame Margaretha!" said Francisco; "do you allude, signor, to the mother of my late father's confidential dependent, Antonio?"

"The same," was the answer. "It was at Dame Margaretha's house that your father placed my sister Agnes, who has resided there nearly four years."

"But wherefore have you made those inquiries relative to the Lady Nisida?" inquired Francisco.

"I will explain the motive with frankness," responded Wagner.

He then related to the young count all those particulars relative to the mysterious lady and Agnes, with which the reader is already acquainted.

"There must be some extraordinary mistake--some strange error, signor, in all this," observed Francisco. "My poor sister is, as you seem to be aware, so deeply afflicted that she possesses not faculties calculated to make her aware of that _amour_ which even I, who possess those faculties in which she is deficient, never suspected, and concerning which no hint ever reached me, until the whole truth burst suddenly upon me last night at the funeral of my sire. Moreover, had accident revealed to Nisida the existence of the connection between my father and your sister, signor, she would have imparted the discovery to me, such is the confidence and so great is the love that exists between us. For habit has rendered us so skillful and quick in conversing with the language of the deaf and dumb, that no impediment ever exists to the free interchange of our thoughts."

"And yet, if the Lady Nisida _had_ made such a discovery, her hatred of Agnes may be well understood," said Wagner; "for her ladyship must naturally look upon my sister as the partner of her father's weakness--the dishonored slave of his pa.s.sions."