Wagner, the Wehr-Wolf Part 61

It required, moreover, but a slight exercise of their imaginative powers to enable Demetrius and Francisco to conjecture that every time any of the banditti had come forth from their stronghold they were accustomed to strew a little fresh earth over the entire spot, and thus afford an additional precaution against the chance of detection on the part of any one who might chance to stray in that direction. We may also add that the trap-door was provided with a ma.s.sive bolt which fastened it inside when closed, and that the handle of the bell-wire, which gave the signal to open the trap, was concealed in a small hollow in the old chestnut-tree. Having thus satisfied his curiosity by means of these discoveries, Demetrius accompanied Francisco to the city; and during their walk thither, he informed the young count that he was an envoy from the Ottoman Grand Vizier to the Florentine Government--that he had become acquainted with Nisida on board the ship which delivered her from her lonely residence on an island in the Mediterranean--and that as she had by some means or other learnt where Francisco was imprisoned, he had undertaken to deliver him. The young count renewed his warmest thanks to the chivalrous Greek for the kind interest he had manifested in his behalf; and they separated at the gate of the Riverola mansion, into which Francisco hurried to embrace his sister; while Demetrius repaired to his own abode.

The meeting between Nisida and her brother Francisco was affecting in the extreme; and for a brief s.p.a.ce the softer feelings in the lady's nature triumphed over those strong, turbulent, and concentrated pa.s.sions which usually held such indomitable sway over her. For her attachment to him was profound and sincere; and the immense sacrifice she had made in what she conceived to be his welfare and interests had tended to strengthen this almost boundless love.

On his side, the young count was rejoiced to behold his sister, whose strange disappearance and long absence had filled his mind with the worst apprehensions. Yes, he was rejoiced to see her once more beneath the ancestral roof; and, with a fond brother's pride, he surveyed her splendid countenance, which triumph and happiness now invested with an animation that rendered her surpa.s.singly beautiful!

A few brief and rapidly-given explanations were exchanged between them, by means of the language of the fingers,--Francisco satisfying Nisida's anxiety in respect to the success of her project, by which the total extermination of the banditti had been effected,--and she conveying to him as much of the outline of her adventures during the last seven months as she thought it prudent to impart. They then separated, it being now very late; and, moreover, Nisida had still some work in hand for that night. The moment Francisco was alone, he exclaimed aloud, "Oh!

is it possible that this dear sister who loves me so much, is really the bitter enemy of Flora? But to-morrow--to-morrow I must have a long explanation with Nisida; and Heaven grant that she may not stand in the way of my happiness! Oh, Flora--dearest Flora, if you knew how deeply I have suffered on your account during my captivity in that accursed cavern! And what must you have thought of my disappearance--my absence!

Alas! did the same vengeance which pursued me wreak its spite also on thee, fair girl?--did the miscreant, Antonio, who boastingly proclaimed himself to my face the author of my captivity, and who sullenly refused to give me any tidings of those whom I cared for, and of what was pa.s.sing in the world without,--did he dare to molest thee? But suspense is intolerable, I cannot endure it even for a few short hours! No--I will speed me at once to the dwelling of my Flora, and thus a.s.suage her grief and put an end to my own fears at the same time!"

Having thus resolved, Francisco repaired to his own apartment, enveloped himself in a cloak, secured weapons of defense about his person, and then quitted the mansion, unperceived by a living soul. Almost at the same time, but by another mode of egress--namely, the private staircase leading from her own apartments into the garden, and which has been so often mentioned in the course of this narrative--Donna Nisida stole likewise from the Riverola palace. She was habited in male attire; and beneath her doublet she wore the light but strong cuira.s.s which she usually donned ere setting out on any nocturnal enterprise, and which she was now particularly cautious not to omit from the details of her toilet, inasmuch as the mysterious appearance of the m.u.f.fled figure, which had alarmed her on the previous evening, induced her to adopt every precaution against secret and unknown enemies. Whither was the Lady Nisida now hurrying, through the dark streets of Florence?--what new object had she in contemplation?

Her way was bent toward an obscure neighborhood in the immediate vicinity of the cathedral; and in a short time she reached the house in which Dame Margaretha, Antonio's mother, dwelt. She knocked gently at the door, which was shortly opened by the old woman, who imagined it was her son that sought admittance; for, though in the service of the Count of Arestino, Antonio was often kept abroad late by the various machinations in which he had been engaged, and it was by no means unusual for him to seek his mother's dwelling at all hours.

Margaretha, who appeared in a loose wrapper hastily thrown on, held a lamp in her hand; and when its rays streamed not on the countenance of her son, but showed the form of a cavalier handsomely appareled, she started back in mingled astonishment and fear. A second glance, however, enabled her to recognize the Lady Nisida; and an exclamation of wonder escaped her lips. Nisida entered the house, closed the door behind her, and motioned Dame Margaretha to lead the way into the nearest apartment.

The old woman obeyed tremblingly; for she feared that the lady's visit boded no good; and this apprehension on her part was not only enhanced by her own knowledge of all Antonio's treachery toward Count Francisco, but also by the imperious manner, determined looks, and strange disguise of her visitress. But Margaretha's terror speedily gave way to indescribable astonishment when Nisida suddenly addressed her in a language which not for many, many years, had the old woman heard flow from that delicious mouth!

"Margaretha," said Nisida, "you must prepare to accompany me forthwith!

Be not surprised to hear me thus capable of rendering myself intelligible by means of an organ on which a seal was so long placed. A marvelous cure has been accomplished in respect to me, during my absence from Florence. But you must prepare to accompany me, I say; your son Antonio----"

"My son!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the woman, now again trembling from head to foot, and surveying Nisida's countenance in a manner denoting the acutest suspense.

"Your son is wounded--mortally wounded in a street skirmish----"

"Wounded!" shrieked Margaretha. "Oh, dear lady--tell me all--tell me the worst! What has happened to my unfortunate son? He is dead--he is dead!

Your manner convinces me that hope is past!"

And she wrung her hands bitterly, while tears streamed down her wrinkled cheeks.

"No, he is not dead, Margaretha!" exclaimed Nisida; "but he is dying--and he implored me, by everything I deemed sacred, to hasten thither and fetch you to him, that he may receive your blessing and close his eyes in peace."

"In peace!" repeated the old woman bitterly: then, to herself she said, "Donna Nisida suspects not his perfidy--knows not all his wickedness."

"Delay not," urged the lady, perceiving what was pa.s.sing in her mind.

"You are well aware that my brother, who, alas! has disappeared most mysteriously, dismissed Antonio abruptly from his service many months ago; but, whatever were the cause, it is forgotten, at least by me. So tarry not, but prepare to accompany me."

Margaretha hastened to her bedroom, and reappeared in a few minutes, completely dressed and ready to issue forth.

"Keep close by me," said Nisida, as she opened the house-door; "and breathe not a word as we pa.s.s through the streets. I have reasons of my own for a.s.suming a disguise, and I wish not to be recognized."

Margaretha was too much absorbed in the contemplation of the afflicting intelligence which she had received, to observe anything at all suspicious in these injunctions; and thus it was that the two females proceeded in silence through the streets leading toward the Riverola mansion.

By means of a pa.s.s-key Nisida opened the wicket-gate of the s.p.a.cious gardens, and she traversed the grounds, Margaretha walking by her side.

In a few minutes they reached a low door, affording admission into the bas.e.m.e.nt-story of the palace, and of which Nisida always possessed the key.

"Go first," said the lady, in a scarcely audible whisper; "I must close the door behind us."

"But wherefore this way?" demanded Margaretha, a sudden apprehension starting up in her mind. "This door leads down to the cellars."

"The officers of justice are in search of Antonio--and I am concealing him for your sake," was the whispered and rapid a.s.surance given by Nisida. "Would you have him die in peace in your arms, or perish on the scaffold?"

Margaretha shuddered convulsively, and hurried down the dark flight of stone steps upon which the door opened. Terrible emotions raged in her bosom--indescribable alarms, grief, suspicion, and also a longing eagerness to put faith in the apparent friendship of Nisida.

"Give me your hand," said the lady; and the hand that was thrust into hers was cold and trembling.

Then Nisida hurried Margaretha along a narrow subterranean pa.s.sage, in which the blackest night reigned; and, though the old woman was a prey to apprehensions that increased each moment to a fearful degree, she dared not utter a word either to question--to implore--or to remonstrate. At length they stopped; and Nisida, dropping Margaretha's hand, drew back heavy bolts which raised ominous echoes in the vaulted pa.s.sage. In another moment a door began to move stubbornly on its hinges; and almost at the same time a faint light gleamed forth--increasing in power as the door opened wider, but still attaining no greater strength than that which a common iron lamp could afford.

Margaretha's anxious glances were plunged into the cellar or vault to which the door opened, and whence the light came: but she saw no one within. It, however, appeared as if some horrible reminiscence, connected with the place, came back to her startled mind; for, falling on her knees, and clinging wildly to her companion, she cried in a piercing tone, "Oh! lady, wherefore have you brought me hither?--where is my son?--what does all this horrible mystery mean? But, chiefly now of all--why, why are we here--at this hour?"

"In a few moments you shall know more!" exclaimed Nisida; and as she spoke, with an almost superhuman strength she dragged, or rather, flung the prostrate woman into the vault, rushing in herself immediately afterward, and closing the door behind her.

"Holy G.o.d!" shrieked Margaretha, gazing wildly round the damp and naked walls of solid masonry, and then up at the lamp suspended to the arched ceiling, "is this the place? But no! you are ignorant of all that; it was not for that you brought me hither! Speak, lady, speak! Where is Antonio? What have I done to merit your displeasure? Oh, mercy! mercy!

Bend not those terrible glances upon me! Your eyes flash fire! You are not Nisida--you are an evil spirit! Oh, mercy! mercy!"

And thus did the miserable woman rave, as, kneeling on the cold, damp ground she extended her tightly-clasped hands in an imploring manner toward Nisida, who, drawn up to her full height, was contemplating the groveling wretch with eyes that seemed to shoot forth shafts of devouring flame! Terrible, indeed, was the appearance of Nisida! Like to an avenging deity was she--no longer woman in the glory of her charms and the elegance of her disguise, but a fury--a very fiend, an implacable demoness, armed with the blasting lightnings of infernal malignity and h.e.l.lish rancor!

"Holy Virgin, protect me!" shrieked Margaretha, every nerve thrilling with the agony of ineffable alarm.

"Yes, call upon Heaven to aid you, vile woman!" said Nisida, in a thick, hoa.r.s.e, and strangely altered voice, "for you are beyond the reach of human aid! Know ye whose remains--or rather the mangled portions of whose remains--lie in this unconsecrated ground? Ah! well may you start in horror and surprise, for I know all--all!"

A terrific scream burst from the lips of Margaretha; and she threw her wild looks around as if she were going mad.

"Detestable woman!" exclaimed Nisida, fixing her burning eyes more intently still on Margaretha's countenance: "you are now about to pay the penalty of your complicity in the most odious crimes that ever made nights terrible in Florence! The period of vengeance has at length arrived! But I must torture ere I slay ye! Yes, I must give thee a foretaste of that h.e.l.l to which your soul is so soon to plunge down!

Know, then, that Antonio--your son Antonio--is no more. Not three hours have elapsed since he was slain--a.s.sa.s.sinated--murdered, if you will so call it--and by my commands."

"Oh! lady, have pity upon me--pity upon me, a bereaved mother!" implored the old woman, in a voice of anguish so penetrating, that vile as she was, it would have moved any human being save Nisida. "Do not kill me--and I will end my miserable days in a convent! Give me time to repent of all my sins--for they are numerous and great! Oh! spare me, dear lady--have mercy upon me--have mercy upon me!"

"What mercy had you on them whose mangled remains are buried in the ground beneath your feet?" demanded Nisida, in a voice almost suffocated with rage. "Prepare for death--your last moment is at hand!" and a bright dagger flashed in the lamp-light.

"Mercy--mercy!" exclaimed Margaretha, springing forward, and grasping Nisida's knees.

"I know not what mercy is!" cried the terrible Italian woman, raising the long, bright, glittering dagger over her head.

"Holy G.o.d! protect me! Lady--dear lady, have pity upon me!" shrieked the agonized wretch, her countenance hideously distorted, and appallingly ghastly, as it was raised in such bitterly earnest appeal toward that of the avengeress. "Again I say mercy--mercy!"

"Die, fiend!" exclaimed Nisida; and the dagger, descending with lightning speed, sunk deep into the bosom of the prostrate victim. A dreadful cry burst from the lips of the wretched woman; and she fell back--a corpse!

"Oh! my dear--my well-beloved and never-to-be-forgotten mother!" said Nisida, falling upon her knees by the side of the body, and gazing intently upward--as if her eyes could pierce the entire building overhead, and catch a glimpse of the spirit of the parent whom she thus apostrophized--"pardon me--pardon me for this deed! Thou didst enjoin me to abstain from vengeance--but when I thought of all thy wrongs, the contemplation drove me mad--and an irresistible power--a force which I could not resist--has hurried me on to achieve the punishment of this wretch who was so malignant an enemy of thine; dearest mother, pardon me--look not down angrily on thy daughter!"

Then Nisida gave way to all the softer emotion which attended the reaction that her mind was now rapidly undergoing, after being so highly strung, as for the last few hours it was--and her tears fell in torrents. For some minutes she remained in her kneeling position, and weeping, till she grew afraid--yes, afraid of being in that lonely place, with the corpse stretched on the ground--a place, too, which for other reasons awoke such terrible recollections in her mind.

Starting to her feet--and neither waiting to extinguish the lamp, which she herself had lighted at an early period of the night, nor to withdraw her dagger from the bosom of the murdered Margaretha--Nisida fled from the vault, and regained her own apartment in safety, and unperceived.

When morning dawned, Nisida rose from a couch in which she had obtained two hours of troubled slumber, and, having hastily dressed herself, proceeded to the chamber of her brother Francisco.

But he was not there--nor had his bed been slept in during the past night.

"He is searching after his Flora," thought Nisida. "Alas, poor youth--how it grieves me thus to be compelled to thwart thee in thy love! But my oath--and thine interests, Francisco, demand this conduct on my part. And better--better it is that thou shouldst hear from strangers the terrible tidings that thy Flora is a prisoner in the dungeon of the inquisition, where she can issue forth only to proceed to the stake! Yes--and better, too, is it that she should die, than that this marriage shall be accomplished!"