by M. G. Lewis
CHAPTER II
Tell us, ye Dead, will none of you in pity To those you left behind disclose the secret? O! That some courteous Ghost would blab it out, What 'tis you are, and we must shortly be. I've heard that Souls departed have sometimes Fore-warned Men of their deaths: 'Twas kindly done To knock, and give the alarum. Blair.
Ambrosio shuddered at himself, when He reflected on his rapid advancesin iniquity. The enormous crime which He had just committed filled himwith real horror. The murdered Elvira was continually before his eyes,and his guilt was already punished by the agonies of his conscience.Time, however, considerably weakened these impressions: One day passedaway, another followed it, and still not the least suspicion was thrownupon him. Impunity reconciled him to his guilt: He began to resumehis spirits; and as his fears of detection died away, He paid lessattention to the reproaches of remorse. Matilda exerted herself toquiet his alarms. At the first intelligence of Elvira's death, Sheseemed greatly affected, and joined the Monk in deploring the unhappycatastrophe of his adventure: But when She found his agitation to besomewhat calmed, and himself better disposed to listen to herarguments, She proceeded to mention his offence in milder terms, andconvince him that He was not so highly culpable as He appeared toconsider himself. She represented that He had only availed himself ofthe rights which Nature allows to every one, those ofself-preservation: That either Elvira or himself must have perished,and that her inflexibility and resolution to ruin him had deservedlymarked her out for the Victim. She next stated, that as He had beforerendered himself suspected to Elvira, it was a fortunate event for himthat her lips were closed by death; since without this last adventure,her suspicions if made public might have produced very disagreeableconsequences. He had therefore freed himself from an Enemy, to whomthe errors of his conduct were sufficiently known to make herdangerous, and who was the greatest obstacle to his designs uponAntonia. Those designs She encouraged him not to abandon. She assuredhim that, no longer protected by her Mother's watchful eye, theDaughter would fall an easy conquest; and by praising and enumeratingAntonia's charms, She strove to rekindle the desires of the Monk. Inthis endeavour She succeeded but too well.
As if the crimes into which his passion had seduced him had onlyincreased its violence, He longed more eagerly than ever to enjoyAntonia. The same success in concealing his present guilt, He trustedwould attend his future. He was deaf to the murmurs of conscience, andresolved to satisfy his desires at any price. He waited only for anopportunity of repeating his former enterprize; But to procure thatopportunity by the same means was now impracticable. In the firsttransports of despair He had dashed the enchanted Myrtle into athousand pieces: Matilda told him plainly that He must expect nofurther assistance from the infernal Powers unless He was willing tosubscribe to their established conditions. This Ambrosio wasdetermined not to do: He persuaded himself that however great might behis iniquity, so long as he preserved his claim to salvation, He neednot despair of pardon. He therefore resolutely refused to enter intoany bond or compact with the Fiends; and Matilda finding him obstinateupon this point, forbore to press him further. She exerted herinvention to discover some means of putting Antonia into the Abbot'spower: Nor was it long before that means presented itself.
While her ruin was thus meditating, the unhappy Girl herself sufferedseverely from the loss of her Mother. Every morning on waking, it washer first care to hasten to Elvira's chamber. On that which followedAmbrosio's fatal visit, She woke later than was her usual custom: Ofthis She was convinced by the Abbey Chimes. She started from her bed,threw on a few loose garments hastily, and was speeding to enquire howher Mother had passed the night, when her foot struck against somethingwhich lay in her passage. She looked down. What was her horror atrecognizing Elvira's livid Corse! She uttered a loud shriek, and threwherself upon the floor. She clasped the inanimate form to her bosom,felt that it was dead-cold, and with a movement of disgust, of whichShe was not the Mistress, let it fall again from her arms. The cry hadalarmed Flora, who hastened to her assistance. The sight which Shebeheld penetrated her with horror; but her alarm was more audible thanAntonia's. She made the House ring with her lamentations, while herMistress, almost suffocated with grief, could only mark her distress bysobs and groans. Flora's shrieks soon reached the ears of the Hostess,whose terror and surprize were excessive on learning the cause of thisdisturbance. A Physician was immediately sent for: But on the firstmoment of beholding the Corse, He declared that Elvira's recovery wasbeyond the power of art. He proceeded therefore to give his assistanceto Antonia, who by this time was truly in need of it. She was conveyedto bed, while the Landlady busied herself in giving orders for Elvira'sBurial. Dame Jacintha was a plain good kind of Woman, charitable,generous, and devout: But her intellects were weak, and She was aMiserable Slave to fear and superstition. She shuddered at the idea ofpassing the night in the same House with a dead Body: She was persuadedthat Elvira's Ghost would appear to her, and no less certain that sucha visit would kill her with fright. From this persuasion, She resolvedto pass the night at a Neighbour's, and insisted that the Funeralshould take place the next day. St. Clare's Cemetery being the nearest,it was determined that Elvira should be buried there. Dame Jacinthaengaged to defray every expence attending the burial. She knew not inwhat circumstances Antonia was left, but from the sparing manner inwhich the Family had lived, She concluded them to be indifferent.
Consequently, She entertained very little hope of ever beingrecompensed; But this consideration prevented her not from taking carethat the Interment was performed with decency, and from showing theunfortunate Antonia all possible respect.
Nobody dies of mere grief; Of this Antonia was an instance. Aided byher youth and healthy constitution, She shook off the malady which herMother's death had occasioned; But it was not so easy to remove thedisease of her mind. Her eyes were constantly filled with tears: Everytrifle affected her, and She evidently nourished in her bosom aprofound and rooted melancholy. The slightest mention of Elvira, themost trivial circumstance recalling that beloved Parent to her memory,was sufficient to throw her into serious agitation. How much would hergrief have been increased, had She known the agonies which terminatedher Mother's existence! But of this no one entertained the leastsuspicion. Elvira was subject to strong convulsions: It was supposedthat, aware of their approach, She had dragged herself to herDaughter's chamber in hopes of assistance; that a sudden access of herfits had seized her, too violent to be resisted by her alreadyenfeebled state of health; and that She had expired ere She had time toreach the medicine which generally relieved her, and which stood upon ashelf in Antonia's room. This idea was firmly credited by the fewpeople, who interested themselves about Elvira: Her Death was esteemeda natural event, and soon forgotten by all save by her, who had but toomuch reason to deplore her loss.
In truth Antonia's situation was sufficiently embarrassing andunpleasant. She was alone in the midst of a dissipated and expensiveCity; She was ill provided with money, and worse with Friends. Heraunt Leonella was still at Cordova, and She knew not her direction. Ofthe Marquis de las Cisternas She heard no news: As to Lorenzo, She hadlong given up the idea of possessing any interest in his bosom. Sheknew not to whom She could address herself in her present dilemma. Shewished to consult Ambrosio; But She remembered her Mother's injunctionsto shun him as much as possible, and the last conversation which Elvirahad held with her upon the subject had given her sufficient lightsrespecting his designs to put her upon her guard against him in future.Still all her Mother's warnings could not make her change her goodopinion of the Friar. She continued to feel that his friendship andsociety were requisite to her happiness: She looked upon his failingswith a partial eye, and could not persuade herself that He really hadintended her ruin. However, Elvira had positively commanded her todrop his acquaintance, and She had too much respect for her orders todisobey them.
At length She resolved to a
ddress herself for advice and protection tothe Marquis de las Cisternas, as being her nearest Relation. She wroteto him, briefly stating her desolate situation; She besought him tocompassionate his Brother's Child, to continue to her Elvira's pension,and to authorise her retiring to his old Castle in Murcia, which tillnow had been her retreat. Having sealed her letter, She gave it to thetrusty Flora, who immediately set out to execute her commission. ButAntonia was born under an unlucky Star. Had She made her applicationto the Marquis but one day sooner, received as his Niece and placed atthe head of his Family, She would have escaped all the misfortunes withwhich She was now threatened. Raymond had always intended to executethis plan: But first, his hopes of making the proposal to Elvirathrough the lips of Agnes, and afterwards, his disappointment at losinghis intended Bride, as well as the severe illness which for some timehad confined him to his Bed, made him defer from day to day the givingan Asylum in his House to his Brother's Widow. He had commissionedLorenzo to supply her liberally with money: But Elvira, unwilling toreceive obligations from that Nobleman, had assured him that She neededno immediate pecuniary assistance. Consequently, the Marquis did notimagine that a trifling delay on his part could create anyembarrassment; and the distress and agitation of his mind might wellexcuse his negligence.
Had He been informed that Elvira's death had left her DaughterFriendless and unprotected, He would doubtless have taken suchmeasures, as would have ensured her from every danger: But Antonia wasnot destined to be so fortunate. The day on which She sent her letterto the Palace de las Cisternas was that following Lorenzo's departurefrom Madrid. The Marquis was in the first paroxysms of despair at theconviction that Agnes was indeed no more: He was delirious, and hislife being in danger, no one was suffered to approach him. Flora wasinformed that He was incapable of attending to Letters, and thatprobably a few hours would decide his fate. With this unsatisfactoryanswer She was obliged to return to her Mistress, who now found herselfplunged into greater difficulties than ever.
Flora and Dame Jacintha exerted themselves to console her. The Latterbegged her to make herself easy, for that as long as She chose to staywith her, She would treat her like her own Child. Antonia, finding thatthe good Woman had taken a real affection for her, was somewhatcomforted by thinking that She had at least one Friend in the World. ALetter was now brought to her, directed to Elvira. She recognizedLeonella's writing, and opening it with joy, found a detailed accountof her Aunt's adventures at Cordova. She informed her Sister that Shehad recovered her Legacy, had lost her heart, and had received inexchange that of the most amiable of Apothecaries, past, present, andto come. She added that She should be at Madrid on the Tuesday night,and meant to have the pleasure of presenting her Caro Sposo in form.Though her nuptials were far from pleasing Antonia, Leonella's speedyreturn gave her Niece much delight. She rejoiced in thinking that Sheshould once more be under a Relation's care. She could not but judgeit to be highly improper, for a young Woman to be living among absoluteStrangers, with no one to regulate her conduct, or protect her from theinsults to which, in her defenceless situation, She was exposed. Shetherefore looked forward with impatience to the Tuesday night.
It arrived. Antonia listened anxiously to the Carriages, as theyrolled along the Street. None of them stopped, and it grew latewithout Leonella's appearing. Still, Antonia resolved to sit up tillher Aunt's arrival, and in spite of all her remonstrances, DameJacintha and Flora insisted upon doing the same. The hours passed onslow and tediously. Lorenzo's departure from Madrid had put a stop tothe nightly Serenades: She hoped in vain to hear the usual sound ofGuitars beneath her window. She took up her own, and struck a fewchords: But Music that evening had lost its charms for her, and Shesoon replaced the Instrument in its case. She seated herself at herembroidery frame, but nothing went right: The silks were missing, thethread snapped every moment, and the needles were so expert at fallingthat they seemed to be animated. At length a flake of wax fell fromthe Taper which stood near her upon a favourite wreath of Violets: Thiscompleatly discomposed her; She threw down her needle, and quitted theframe. It was decreed that for that night nothing should have thepower of amusing her. She was the prey of Ennui, and employed herselfin making fruitless wishes for the arrival of her Aunt.
As She walked with a listless air up and down the chamber, the Doorcaught her eye conducting to that which had been her Mother's. Sheremembered that Elvira's little Library was arranged there, and thoughtthat She might possibly find in it some Book to amuse her till Leonellashould arrive. Accordingly She took her Taper from the table, passedthrough the little Closet, and entered the adjoining apartment. As Shelooked around her, the sight of this room brought to her recollection athousand painful ideas. It was the first time of her entering it sinceher Mother's death. The total silence prevailing through the chamber,the Bed despoiled of its furniture, the cheerless hearth where stood anextinguished Lamp, and a few dying Plants in the window which, sinceElvira's loss, had been neglected, inspired Antonia with a melancholyawe. The gloom of night gave strength to this sensation. She placedher light upon the Table, and sank into a large chair, in which She hadseen her Mother seated a thousand and a thousand times. She was neverto see her seated there again! Tears unbidden streamed down her cheek,and She abandoned herself to the sadness which grew deeper with everymoment.
Ashamed of her weakness, She at length rose from her seat: Sheproceeded to seek for what had brought her to this melancholy scene.The small collection of Books was arranged upon several shelves inorder. Antonia examined them without finding any thing likely tointerest her, till She put her hand upon a volume of old SpanishBallads. She read a few Stanzas of one of them: They excited hercuriosity. She took down the Book, and seated herself to peruse itwith more ease. She trimmed the Taper, which now drew towards its end,and then read the following Ballad.
ALONZO THE BRAVE, AND FAIR IMOGINE
A Warrior so bold, and a Virgin so bright Conversed, as They sat on the green: They gazed on each other with tender delight; Alonzo the Brave was the name of the Knight, The Maid's was the Fair Imogine.
'And Oh!' said the Youth, 'since to-morrow I go To fight in a far distant land, Your tears for my absence soon leaving to flow, Some Other will court you, and you will bestow On a wealthier Suitor your hand.'
'Oh! hush these suspicions,' Fair Imogine said, 'Offensive to Love and to me! For if ye be living, or if ye be dead, I swear by the Virgin, that none in your stead Shall Husband of Imogine be.
'If e'er I by lust or by wealth led aside Forget my Alonzo the Brave, God grant, that to punish my falsehood and pride Your Ghost at the Marriage may sit by my side, May tax me with perjury, claim me as Bride, And bear me away to the Grave!'
To Palestine hastened the Hero so bold; His Love, She lamented him sore: But scarce had a twelve-month elapsed, when behold, A Baron all covered with jewels and gold Arrived at Fair Imogine's door.
His treasure, his presents, his spacious domain Soon made her untrue to her vows: He dazzled her eyes; He bewildered her brain; He caught her affections so light and so vain, And carried her home as his Spouse.
And now had the Marriage been blest by the Priest; The revelry now was begun: The Tables, they groaned with the weight of the Feast; Nor yet had the laughter and merriment ceased, When the Bell of the Castle told,--'One!'
Then first with amazement Fair Imogine found That a Stranger was placed by her side: His air was terrific; He uttered no sound; He spoke not, He moved not, He looked not around, But earnestly gazed on the Bride.
His vizor was closed, and gigantic his height; His armour was sable to view: All pleasure and laughter were hushed at his sight; The Dogs as They eyed him drew back in affright, The Lights in the chamber burned blue!
His presence all bosoms appeared to dismay; The Guests sat in silence and fear. At length spoke the Bride, while She trembled; 'I pray, Sir Knight, that your Helmet aside you would lay, And
deign to partake of our chear.'
The Lady is silent: The Stranger complies. His vizor lie slowly unclosed: Oh! God! what a sight met Fair Imogine's eyes! What words can express her dismay and surprize, When a Skeleton's head was exposed.
All present then uttered a terrified shout; All turned with disgust from the scene. The worms, They crept in, and the worms, They crept out, And sported his eyes and his temples about, While the Spectre addressed Imogine.
'Behold me, Thou false one! Behold me!' He cried; 'Remember Alonzo the Brave! God grants, that to punish thy falsehood and pride My Ghost at thy marriage should sit by thy side, Should tax thee with perjury, claim thee as Bride And bear thee away to the Grave!'
Thus saying, his arms round the Lady He wound, While loudly She shrieked in dismay; Then sank with his prey through the wide-yawning ground: Nor ever again was Fair Imogine found, Or the Spectre who bore her away.
Not long lived the Baron; and none since that time To inhabit the Castle presume: For Chronicles tell, that by order sublime There Imogine suffers the pain of her crime, And mourns her deplorable doom.
At midnight four times in each year does her Spright When Mortals in slumber are bound, Arrayed in her bridal apparel of white, Appear in the Hall with the Skeleton-Knight, And shriek, as He whirls her around.
While They drink out of skulls newly torn from the grave, Dancing round them the Spectres are seen: Their liquor is blood, and this horrible Stave They howl.--'To the health of Alonzo the Brave, And his Consort, the False Imogine!'
The perusal of this story was ill-calculated to dispel Antonia'smelancholy. She had naturally a strong inclination to the marvellous;and her Nurse, who believed firmly in Apparitions, had related to herwhen an Infant so many horrible adventures of this kind, that allElvira's attempts had failed to eradicate their impressions from herDaughter's mind. Antonia still nourished a superstitious prejudice inher bosom: She was often susceptible of terrors which, when Shediscovered their natural and insignificant cause, made her blush at herown weakness. With such a turn of mind, the adventure which She hadjust been reading sufficed to give her apprehensions the alarm. Thehour and the scene combined to authorize them. It was the dead ofnight: She was alone, and in the chamber once occupied by her deceasedMother. The weather was comfortless and stormy: The wind howledaround the House, the doors rattled in their frames, and the heavy rainpattered against the windows. No other sound was heard. The Taper,now burnt down to the socket, sometimes flaring upwards shot a gleam oflight through the room, then sinking again seemed upon the point ofexpiring. Antonia's heart throbbed with agitation: Her eyes wanderedfearfully over the objects around her, as the trembling flameilluminated them at intervals. She attempted to rise from her seat;But her limbs trembled so violently that She was unable to proceed.She then called Flora, who was in a room at no great distance: Butagitation choaked her voice, and her cries died away in hollow murmurs.
She passed some minutes in this situation, after which her terrorsbegan to diminish. She strove to recover herself, and acquire strengthenough to quit the room: Suddenly She fancied, that She heard a lowsigh drawn near her. This idea brought back her former weakness. Shehad already raised herself from her seat, and was on the point oftaking the Lamp from the Table. The imaginary noise stopped her: Shedrew back her hand, and supported herself upon the back of a Chair.She listened anxiously, but nothing more was heard.
'Gracious God!' She said to herself; 'What could be that sound? Was Ideceived, or did I really hear it?'
Her reflections were interrupted by a noise at the door scarcelyaudible: It seemed as if somebody was whispering. Antonia's alarmincreased: Yet the Bolt She knew to be fastened, and this idea in somedegree reassured her. Presently the Latch was lifted up softly, andthe Door moved with caution backwards and forwards. Excess of terrornow supplied Antonia with that strength, of which She had till thenbeen deprived. She started from her place and made towards the Closetdoor, whence She might soon have reached the chamber where She expectedto find Flora and Dame Jacintha. Scarcely had She reached the middleof the room when the Latch was lifted up a second time. An involuntarymovement obliged her to turn her head. Slowly and gradually the Doorturned upon its hinges, and standing upon the Threshold She beheld atall thin Figure, wrapped in a white shroud which covered it from headto foot.
This vision arrested her feet: She remained as if petrified in themiddle of the apartment. The Stranger with measured and solemn stepsdrew near the Table. The dying Taper darted a blue and melancholyflame as the Figure advanced towards it. Over the Table was fixed asmall Clock; The hand of it was upon the stroke of three. The Figurestopped opposite to the Clock: It raised its right arm, and pointed tothe hour, at the same time looking earnestly upon Antonia, who waitedfor the conclusion of this scene, motionless and silent.
The figure remained in this posture for some moments. The clock struck.When the sound had ceased, the Stranger advanced yet a few steps nearerAntonia.
'Yet three days,' said a voice faint, hollow, and sepulchral; 'Yetthree days, and we meet again!'
Antonia shuddered at the words.
'We meet again?' She pronounced at length with difficulty: 'Where shallwe meet? Whom shall I meet?'
The figure pointed to the ground with one hand, and with the otherraised the Linen which covered its face.
'Almighty God! My Mother!'
Antonia shrieked, and fell lifeless upon the floor.
Dame Jacintha who was at work in a neighbouring chamber, was alarmed bythe cry: Flora was just gone down stairs to fetch fresh oil for theLamp, by which they had been sitting. Jacintha therefore hastenedalone to Antonia's assistance, and great was her amazement to find herextended upon the floor. She raised her in her arms, conveyed her toher apartment, and placed her upon the Bed still senseless. She thenproceeded to bathe her temples, chafe her hands, and use all possiblemeans of bringing her to herself. With some difficulty She succeeded.Antonia opened her eyes, and looked round her wildly.
'Where is She?' She cried in a trembling voice; 'Is She gone? Am Isafe? Speak to me! Comfort me! Oh! speak to me for God's sake!'
'Safe from whom, my Child?' replied the astonished Jacintha; 'Whatalarms you? Of whom are you afraid?'
'In three days! She told me that we should meet in three days! I heardher say it! I saw her, Jacintha, I saw her but this moment!'
She threw herself upon Jacintha's bosom.
'You saw her? Saw whom?'
'My Mother's Ghost!'
'Christ Jesus!' cried Jacintha, and starting from the Bed, let fallAntonia upon the pillow, and fled in consternation out of the room.
As She hastened down stairs, She met Flora ascending them.
'Go to your Mistress, Flora,' said She; 'Here are rare doings! Oh! I amthe most unfortunate Woman alive! My House is filled with Ghosts anddead Bodies, and the Lord knows what besides; Yet I am sure, nobodylikes such company less than I do. But go your way to Donna Antonia,Flora, and let me go mine.'
Thus saying, She continued her course to the Street door, which Sheopened, and without allowing herself time to throw on her veil, Shemade the best of her way to the Capuchin Abbey. In the meanwhile,Flora hastened to her Lady's chamber, equally surprized and alarmed atJacintha's consternation. She found Antonia lying upon the bedinsensible. She used the same means for her recovery that Jacintha hadalready employed; But finding that her Mistress only recovered from onefit to fall into another, She sent in all haste for a Physician. Whileexpecting his arrival, She undrest Antonia, and conveyed her to Bed.
Heedless of the storm, terrified almost out of her senses, Jacintha ranthrough the Streets, and stopped not till She reached the Gate of theAbbey. She rang loudly at the bell, and as soon as the Porterappeared, She desired permission to speak to the Superior. Ambrosiowas then conferring with Matilda upon the means of procuring access toAntonia. The cause of Elvira's death remaining unknown, He wasconvince
d that crimes were not so swiftly followed by punishment, ashis Instructors the Monks had taught him, and as till then He hadhimself believed. This persuasion made him resolve upon Antonia'sruin, for the enjoyment of whose person dangers and difficulties onlyseemed to have increased his passion. The Monk had already made oneattempt to gain admission to her presence; But Flora had refused him insuch a manner as to convince him that all future endeavours must bevain. Elvira had confided her suspicions to that trusty Servant: Shehad desired her never to leave Ambrosio alone with her Daughter, and ifpossible to prevent their meeting altogether. Flora promised to obeyher, and had executed her orders to the very letter. Ambrosio's visithad been rejected that morning, though Antonia was ignorant of it. Hesaw that to obtain a sight of his Mistress by open means was out of thequestion; and both Himself and Matilda had consumed the night, inendeavouring to invent some plan, whose event might be more successful.Such was their employment, when a Lay-Brother entered the Abbot's Cell,and informed him that a Woman calling herself Jacintha Zuniga requestedaudience for a few minutes.
Ambrosio was by no means disposed to grant the petition of his Visitor.He refused it positively, and bad the Lay-Brother tell the Stranger toreturn the next day. Matilda interrupted him.
'See this Woman,' said She in a low voice; 'I have my reasons.'
The Abbot obeyed her, and signified that He would go to the Parlourimmediately. With this answer the Lay-Brother withdrew. As soon asthey were alone Ambrosio enquired why Matilda wished him to see thisJacintha.
'She is Antonia's Hostess,' replied Matilda; 'She may possibly be ofuse to you: but let us examine her, and learn what brings her hither.'
They proceeded together to the Parlour, where Jacintha was alreadywaiting for the Abbot. She had conceived a great opinion of his pietyand virtue; and supposing him to have much influence over the Devil,thought that it must be an easy matter for him to lay Elvira's Ghost inthe Red Sea. Filled with this persuasion She had hastened to theAbbey. As soon as She saw the Monk enter the Parlour, She dropped uponher knees, and began her story as follows.
'Oh! Reverend Father! Such an accident! Such an adventure! I knownot what course to take, and unless you can help me, I shall certainlygo distracted. Well, to be sure, never was Woman so unfortunate, asmyself! All in my power to keep clear of such abomination have I done,and yet that all is too little. What signifies my telling my beadsfour times a day, and observing every fast prescribed by the Calendar?What signifies my having made three Pilgrimages to St. James ofCompostella, and purchased as many pardons from the Pope as would buyoff Cain's punishment? Nothing prospers with me! All goes wrong, andGod only knows, whether any thing will ever go right again! Why now,be your Holiness the Judge. My Lodger dies in convulsions; Out of purekindness I bury her at my own expence; (Not that She is any Relation ofmine, or that I shall be benefited a single pistole by her death: Igot nothing by it, and therefore you know, reverend Father, that herliving or dying was just the same to me. But that is nothing to thepurpose; To return to what I was saying,) I took care of her funeral,had every thing performed decently and properly, and put myself toexpence enough, God knows! And how do you think the Lady repays me formy kindness? Why truly by refusing to sleep quietly in her comfortabledeal Coffin, as a peaceable well-disposed Spirit ought to do, andcoming to plague me, who never wish to set eyes on her again.Forsooth, it well becomes her to go racketing about my House atmidnight, popping into her Daughter's room through the Keyhole, andfrightening the poor Child out of her wits! Though She be a Ghost, Shemight be more civil than to bolt into a Person's House, who likes hercompany so little. But as for me, reverend Father, the plain state ofthe case is this: If She walks into my House, I must walk out of it,for I cannot abide such Visitors, not I! Thus you see, your Sanctity,that without your assistance I am ruined and undone for ever. I shallbe obliged to quit my House; Nobody will take it, when 'tis known thatShe haunts it, and then I shall find myself in a fine situation!Miserable Woman that I am! What shall I do! What will become of me!'
Here She wept bitterly, wrung her hands, and begged to know the Abbot'sopinion of her case.
'In truth, good Woman,' replied He, 'It will be difficult for me torelieve you without knowing what is the matter with you. You haveforgotten to tell me what has happened, and what it is you want.'
'Let me die' cried Jacintha, 'but your Sanctity is in the right! Thisthen is the fact stated briefly. A lodger of mine is lately dead, avery good sort of Woman that I must needs say for her as far as myknowledge of her went, though that was not a great way:
She kept me too much at a distance; for indeed She was given to be uponthe high ropes, and whenever I ventured to speak to her, She had a lookwith her which always made me feel a little queerish, God forgive mefor saying so. However, though She was more stately than needful, andaffected to look down upon me (Though if I am well informed, I come ofas good Parents as She could do for her ears, for her Father was aShoe-maker at Cordova, and Mine was an Hatter at Madrid, aye, and avery creditable Hatter too, let me tell you,) Yet for all her pride,She was a quiet well-behaved Body, and I never wish to have a betterLodger. This makes me wonder the more at her not sleeping quietly inher Grave: But there is no trusting to people in this world! For mypart, I never saw her do amiss, except on the Friday before her death.To be sure, I was then much scandalized by seeing her eat the wing of aChicken! "How, Madona Flora!" quoth I; (Flora, may it please yourReverence, is the name of the waiting Maid)--"How, Madona Flora!"quoth I; "Does your Mistress eat flesh upon Fridays? Well! Well!See the event, and then remember that Dame Jacintha warned you of it!"These were my very words, but Alas! I might as well have held mytongue! Nobody minded me; and Flora, who is somewhat pert andsnappish, (More is the pity, say I) told me that there was no more harmin eating a Chicken than the egg from which it came. Nay, She evendeclared that if her Lady added a slice of bacon, She would not be aninch nearer Damnation, God protect us! A poor ignorant sinful soul! Iprotest to your Holiness, I trembled to hear her utter suchblasphemies, and expected every moment to see the ground open andswallow her up, Chicken and all! For you must know, worshipful Father,that while She talked thus, She held the plate in her hand, on whichlay the identical roast Fowl. And a fine Bird it was, that I must sayfor it! Done to a turn, for I superintended the cooking of it myself:It was a little Gallician of my own raising, may it please yourHoliness, and the flesh was as white as an egg-shell, as indeed DonnaElvira told me herself. "Dame Jacintha," said She, verygood-humouredly, though to say the truth, She was always very polite tome .....'
Here Ambrosio's patience failed him. Eager to know Jacintha's businessin which Antonia seemed to be concerned, He was almost distracted whilelistening to the rambling of this prosing old Woman. He interruptedher, and protested that if She did not immediately tell her story andhave done with it, He should quit the Parlour, and leave her to get outof her difficulties by herself. This threat had the desired effect.Jacintha related her business in as few words as She could manage; Buther account was still so prolix that Ambrosio had need of his patienceto bear him to the conclusion.
'And so, your Reverence,' said She, after relating Elvira's death andburial, with all their circumstances; 'And so, your Reverence, uponhearing the shriek, I put away my work, and away posted I to DonnaAntonia's chamber. Finding nobody there, I past on to the next; But Imust own, I was a little timorous at going in, for this was the veryroom where Donna Elvira used to sleep. However, in I went, and sureenough, there lay the young Lady at full length upon the floor, as coldas a stone, and as white as a sheet. I was surprized at this, as yourHoliness may well suppose; But Oh me! how I shook when I saw a greattall figure at my elbow whose head touched the ceiling! The face wasDonna Elvira's, I must confess; But out of its mouth came clouds offire, its arms were loaded with heavy chains which it rattledpiteously, and every hair on its head was a Serpent as big as my arm!At this I was frightened enough, and began to say my Ave-Maria: Butthe G
host interrupting me uttered three loud groans, and roared out ina terrible voice, "Oh! That Chicken's wing! My poor soul suffers forit!" As soon as She had said this, the Ground opened, the Spectresank down, I heard a clap of thunder, and the room was filled with asmell of brimstone. When I recovered from my fright, and had broughtDonna Antonia to herself, who told me that She had cried out uponseeing her Mother's Ghost, (And well might She cry, poor Soul! Had Ibeen in her place, I should have cried ten times louder) it directlycame into my head, that if any one had power to quiet this Spectre, itmust be your Reverence. So hither I came in all diligence, to beg thatyou will sprinkle my House with holy water, and lay the Apparition inthe Red Sea.'
Ambrosio stared at this strange story, which He could not credit.
'Did Donna Antonia also see the Ghost?' said He.
'As plain as I see you, Reverend Father!'
Ambrosio paused for a moment. Here was an opportunity offered him ofgaining access to Antonia, but He hesitated to employ it. Thereputation which He enjoyed in Madrid was still dear to him; and sinceHe had lost the reality of virtue, it appeared as if its semblance wasbecome more valuable. He was conscious that publicly to break throughthe rule never to quit the Abbey precincts, would derogate much fromhis supposed austerity. In visiting Elvira, He had always taken care tokeep his features concealed from the Domestics. Except by the Lady,her Daughter, and the faithful Flora, He was known in the Family by noother name than that of Father Jerome. Should He comply withJacintha's request, and accompany her to her House, He knew that theviolation of his rule could not be kept a secret. However, hiseagerness to see Antonia obtained the victory: He even hoped, that thesingularity of this adventure would justify him in the eyes of Madrid:But whatever might be the consequences, He resolved to profit by theopportunity which chance had presented to him. An expressive look fromMatilda confirmed him in this resolution.
'Good Woman,' said He to Jacintha, 'what you tell me is soextraordinary that I can scarcely credit your assertions. However, Iwill comply with your request. Tomorrow after Matins you may expect meat your House: I will then examine into what I can do for you, and ifit is in my power, will free you from this unwelcome Visitor. Now thengo home, and peace be with you!'
'Home?' exclaimed Jacintha; 'I go home? Not I by my troth! exceptunder your protection, I set no foot of mine within the threshold. Godhelp me, the Ghost may meet me upon the Stairs, and whisk me away withher to the devil! Oh! That I had accepted young Melchior Basco'soffer! Then I should have had somebody to protect me; But now I am alone Woman, and meet with nothing but crosses and misfortunes! ThankHeaven, it is not yet too late to repent! There is Simon Gonzalez willhave me any day of the week, and if I live till daybreak, I will marryhim out of hand: An Husband I will have, that is determined, for nowthis Ghost is once in my House, I shall be frightened out of my wits tosleep alone. But for God's sake, reverend Father, come with me now. Ishall have no rest till the House is purified, or the poor young Ladyeither. The dear Girl! She is in a piteous taking: I left her instrong convulsions, and I doubt, She will not easily recover herfright.'
The Friar started, and interrupted her hastily.
'In convulsions, say you? Antonia in convulsions? Lead on, goodWoman! I follow you this moment!'
Jacintha insisted upon his stopping to furnish himself with the vesselof holy water: With this request He complied. Thinking herself safeunder his protection should a Legion of Ghosts attack her, the oldWoman returned the Monk a profusion of thanks, and they departedtogether for the Strada di San Iago.
So strong an impression had the Spectre made upon Antonia, that for thefirst two or three hours the Physician declared her life to be indanger. The fits at length becoming less frequent induced him to alterhis opinion. He said that to keep her quiet was all that wasnecessary; and He ordered a medicine to be prepared which wouldtranquillize her nerves, and procure her that repose which at presentShe much wanted. The sight of Ambrosio, who now appeared with Jacinthaat her Bedside, contributed essentially to compose her ruffled spirits.Elvira had not sufficiently explained herself upon the nature of hisdesigns, to make a Girl so ignorant of the world as her Daughter awarehow dangerous was his acquaintance. At this moment, when penetratedwith horror at the scene which had just past, and dreading tocontemplate the Ghost's prediction, her mind had need of all thesuccours of friendship and religion, Antonia regarded the Abbot with aneye doubly partial. That strong prepossession in his favour stillexisted which She had felt for him at first sight: She fancied, yetknew not wherefore, that his presence was a safeguard to her from everydanger, insult, or misfortune.
She thanked him gratefully for his visit, and related to him theadventure, which had alarmed her so seriously.
The Abbot strove to reassure her, and convince her that the whole hadbeen a deception of her overheated fancy. The solitude in which Shehad passed the Evening, the gloom of night, the Book which She had beenreading, and the Room in which She sat, were all calculated to placebefore her such a vision. He treated the idea of Ghosts with ridicule,and produced strong arguments to prove the fallacy of such a system.His conversation tranquillized and comforted her, but did not convinceher. She could not believe that the Spectre had been a mere creatureof her imagination; Every circumstance was impressed upon her mind tooforcibly, to permit her flattering herself with such an idea. Shepersisted in asserting that She had really seen her Mother's Ghost, hadheard the period of her dissolution announced and declared that Shenever should quit her bed alive. Ambrosio advised her againstencouraging these sentiments, and then quitted her chamber, havingpromised to repeat his visit on the morrow. Antonia received thisassurance with every mark of joy: But the Monk easily perceived thatHe was not equally acceptable to her Attendant. Flora obeyed Elvira'sinjunctions with the most scrupulous observance. She examined everycircumstance with an anxious eye likely in the least to prejudice heryoung Mistress, to whom She had been attached for many years. She wasa Native of Cuba, had followed Elvira to Spain, and loved the youngAntonia with a Mother's affection. Flora quitted not the room for amoment while the Abbot remained there: She watched his every word, hisevery look, his every action. He saw that her suspicious eye wasalways fixed upon him, and conscious that his designs would not bearinspection so minute, He felt frequently confused and disconcerted. Hewas aware that She doubted the purity of his intentions; that She wouldnever leave him alone with Antonia, and his Mistress defended by thepresence of this vigilant Observer, He despaired of finding the meansto gratify his passion.
As He quitted the House, Jacintha met him, and begged that some Massesmight be sung for the repose of Elvira's soul, which She doubted notwas suffering in Purgatory. He promised not to forget her request; ButHe perfectly gained the old Woman's heart by engaging to watch duringthe whole of the approaching night in the haunted chamber. Jacinthacould find no terms sufficiently strong to express her gratitude, andthe Monk departed loaded with her benedictions.
It was broad day when He returned to the Abbey. His first care was tocommunicate what had past to his Confident. He felt too sincere apassion for Antonia to have heard unmoved the prediction of her speedydeath, and He shuddered at the idea of losing an object so dear to him.Upon this head Matilda reassured him. She confirmed the argumentswhich Himself had already used: She declared Antonia to have beendeceived by the wandering of her brain, by the Spleen which opprest herat the moment, and by the natural turn of her mind to superstition, andthe marvellous. As to Jacintha's account, the absurdity refuteditself; The Abbot hesitated not to believe that She had fabricated thewhole story, either confused by terror, or hoping to make him complymore readily with her request. Having overruled the Monk'sapprehensions, Matilda continued thus.
'The prediction and the Ghost are equally false; But it must be yourcare, Ambrosio, to verify the first. Antonia within three days mustindeed be dead to the world; But She must live for you.
Her present illness, and this fancy which Sh
e has taken into her head,will colour a plan which I have long meditated, but which wasimpracticable without your procuring access to Antonia. She shall beyours, not for a single night, but for ever. All the vigilance of herDuenna shall not avail her: You shall riot unrestrained in the charmsof your Mistress. This very day must the scheme be put in execution,for you have no time to lose. The Nephew of the Duke of Medina Celiprepares to demand Antonia for his Bride: In a few days She will beremoved to the Palace of her Relation, the Marquis de las Cisternas,and there She will be secure from your attempts. Thus during yourabsence have I been informed by my Spies, who are ever employed inbringing me intelligence for your service. Now then listen to me.There is a juice extracted from certain herbs, known but to few, whichbrings on the Person who drinks it the exact image of Death. Let thisbe administered to Antonia: You may easily find means to pour a fewdrops into her medicine. The effect will be throwing her into strongconvulsions for an hour: After which her blood will gradually cease toflow, and heart to beat; A mortal paleness will spread itself over herfeatures, and She will appear a Corse to every eye. She has no Friendsabout her: You may charge yourself unsuspected with thesuperintendence of her funeral, and cause her to be buried in theVaults of St. Clare. Their solitude and easy access render theseCaverns favourable to your designs. Give Antonia the soporific draughtthis Evening: Eight and forty hours after She has drank it, Life willrevive to her bosom. She will then be absolutely in your power: Shewill find all resistance unavailing, and necessity will compel her toreceive you in her arms.'
'Antonia will be in my power!' exclaimed the Monk; 'Matilda, youtransport me! At length then, happiness will be mine, and thathappiness will be Matilda's gift, will be the gift of friendship!
I shall clasp Antonia in my arms, far from every prying eye, from everytormenting Intruder! I shall sigh out my soul upon her bosom; Shallteach her young heart the first rudiments of pleasure, and reveluncontrouled in the endless variety of her charms! And shall thisdelight indeed by mine? Shall I give the reins to my desires, andgratify every wild tumultuous wish? Oh! Matilda, how can I express toyou my gratitude?'
'By profiting by my counsels. Ambrosio, I live but to serve you:
Your interest and happiness are equally mine. Be your person Antonia's,but to your friendship and your heart I still assert my claim.Contributing to yours forms now my only pleasure. Should my exertionsprocure the gratification of your wishes, I shall consider my troubleto be amply repaid. But let us lose no time. The liquor of which Ispoke is only to be found in St. Clare's Laboratory. Hasten then tothe Prioress; Request of her admission to the Laboratory, and it willnot be denied. There is a Closet at the lower end of the great Room,filled with liquids of different colours and qualities. The Bottle inquestion stands by itself upon the third shelf on the left. Itcontains a greenish liquor: Fill a small phial with it when you areunobserved, and Antonia is your own.'
The Monk hesitated not to adopt this infamous plan. His desires, buttoo violent before, had acquired fresh vigour from the sight ofAntonia. As He sat by her bedside, accident had discovered to him someof those charms which till then had been concealed from him: He foundthem even more perfect, than his ardent imagination had pictured them.Sometimes her white and polished arm was displayed in arranging thepillow: Sometimes a sudden movement discovered part of her swellingbosom: But whereever the new-found charm presented itself, thererested the Friar's gloting eyes. Scarcely could He master himselfsufficiently to conceal his desires from Antonia and her vigilantDuenna. Inflamed by the remembrance of these beauties, He entered intoMatilda's scheme without hesitation.
No sooner were Matins over than He bent his course towards the Conventof St. Clare: His arrival threw the whole Sisterhood into the utmostamazement. The Prioress was sensible of the honour done her Convent byhis paying it his first visit, and strove to express her gratitude byevery possible attention. He was paraded through the Garden, shown allthe reliques of Saints and Martyrs, and treated with as much respectand distinction as had He been the Pope himself. On his part, Ambrosioreceived the Domina's civilities very graciously, and strove to removeher surprize at his having broken through his resolution. He stated,that among his penitents, illness prevented many from quitting theirHouses. These were exactly the People who most needed his advice andthe comforts of Religion: Many representations had been made to himupon this account, and though highly repugnant to his own wishes, Hehad found it absolutely necessary for the service of heaven to changehis determination, and quit his beloved retirement. The Prioressapplauded his zeal in his profession and his charity towards Mankind:She declared that Madrid was happy in possessing a Man so perfect andirreproachable. In such discourse, the Friar at length reached theLaboratory. He found the Closet: The Bottle stood in the place whichMatilda had described, and the Monk seized an opportunity to fill hisphial unobserved with the soporific liquor. Then having partaken of aCollation in the Refectory, He retired from the Convent pleased withthe success of his visit, and leaving the Nuns delighted by the honourconferred upon them.
He waited till Evening before He took the road to Antonia's dwelling.Jacintha welcomed him with transport, and besought him not to forgethis promise to pass the night in the haunted Chamber: That promise Henow repeated. He found Antonia tolerably well, but still harping uponthe Ghost's prediction. Flora moved not from her Lady's Bed, and bysymptoms yet stronger than on the former night testified her dislike tothe Abbot's presence. Still Ambrosio affected not to observe them.The Physician arrived, while He was conversing with Antonia. It wasdark already; Lights were called for, and Flora was compelled todescend for them herself. However, as She left a third Person in theroom, and expected to be absent but a few minutes, She believed thatShe risqued nothing in quitting her post. No sooner had She left theroom, than Ambrosio moved towards the Table, on which stood Antonia'smedicine: It was placed in a recess of the window. The Physicianseated in an armed-chair, and employed in questioning his Patient, paidno attention to the proceedings of the Monk. Ambrosio seized theopportunity: He drew out the fatal Phial, and let a few drops fallinto the medicine. He then hastily left the Table, and returned to theseat which He had quitted. When Flora made her appearance with lights,every thing seemed to be exactly as She had left it.
The Physician declared that Antonia might quit her chamber the next daywith perfect safety. He recommended her following the sameprescription which, on the night before, had procured her a refreshingsleep: Flora replied that the draught stood ready upon the Table: Headvised the Patient to take it without delay, and then retired. Florapoured the medicine into a Cup and presented it to her Mistress. Atthat moment Ambrosio's courage failed him. Might not Matilda havedeceived him? Might not Jealousy have persuaded her to destroy herRival, and substitute poison in the room of an opiate? This ideaappeared so reasonable that He was on the point of preventing her fromswallowing the medicine. His resolution was adopted too late: The Cupwas already emptied, and Antonia restored it into Flora's hands. Noremedy was now to be found: Ambrosio could only expect the momentimpatiently, destined to decide upon Antonia's life or death, upon hisown happiness or despair.
Dreading to create suspicion by his stay, or betray himself by hismind's agitation, He took leave of his Victim, and withdrew from theroom. Antonia parted from him with less cordiality than on the formernight. Flora had represented to her Mistress that to admit his visitswas to disobey her Mother's orders: She described to her his emotionon entering the room, and the fire which sparkled in his eyes while Hegazed upon her. This had escaped Antonia's observation, but not herAttendant's; Who explaining the Monk's designs and their probableconsequences in terms much clearer than Elvira's, though not quite sodelicate, had succeeded in alarming her young Lady, and persuading herto treat him more distantly than She had done hitherto. The idea ofobeying her Mother's will at once determined Antonia. Though Shegrieved at losing his society, She conquered herself sufficiently toreceive the Monk wi
th some degree of reserve and coldness. She thankedhim with respect and gratitude for his former visits, but did notinvite his repeating them in future. It now was not the Friar'sinterest to solicit admission to her presence, and He took leave of heras if not designing to return. Fully persuaded that the acquaintancewhich She dreaded was now at an end, Flora was so much worked upon byhis easy compliance that She began to doubt the justice of hersuspicions. As She lighted him down Stairs, She thanked him for havingendeavoured to root out from Antonia's mind her superstitious terrorsof the Spectre's prediction: She added, that as He seemed interestedin Donna Antonia's welfare, should any change take place in hersituation, She would be careful to let him know it. The Monk inreplying took pains to raise his voice, hoping that Jacintha would hearit. In this He succeeded; As He reached the foot of the Stairs withhis Conductress, the Landlady failed not to make her appearance.
'Why surely you are not going away, reverend Father?' cried She; 'Didyou not promise to pass the night in the haunted Chamber? Christ Jesus!I shall be left alone with the Ghost, and a fine pickle I shall be inby morning! Do all I could, say all I could, that obstinate old Brute,Simon Gonzalez, refused to marry me today; And before tomorrow comes, Isuppose, I shall be torn to pieces, by the Ghosts, and Goblins, andDevils, and what not! For God's sake, your Holiness, do not leave me insuch a woeful condition! On my bended knees I beseech you to keep yourpromise: Watch this night in the haunted chamber; Lay the Apparitionin the Red Sea, and Jacintha remembers you in her prayers to the lastday of her existence!'
This request Ambrosio expected and desired; Yet He affected to raiseobjections, and to seem unwilling to keep his word. He told Jacinthathat the Ghost existed nowhere but in her own brain, and that herinsisting upon his staying all night in the House was ridiculous anduseless. Jacintha was obstinate: She was not to be convinced, andpressed him so urgently not to leave her a prey to the Devil, that atlength He granted her request. All this show of resistance imposed notupon Flora, who was naturally of a suspicious temper. She suspectedthe Monk to be acting a part very contrary to his own inclinations, andthat He wished for no better than to remain where He was. She evenwent so far as to believe that Jacintha was in his interest; and thepoor old Woman was immediately set down, as no better than a Procuress.While She applauded herself for having penetrated into this plotagainst her Lady's honour, She resolved in secret to render itfruitless.
'So then,' said She to the Abbot with a look half-satirical and halfindignant; 'So then you mean to stay here tonight? Do so, in God'sname! Nobody will prevent you. Sit up to watch for the Ghost'sarrival: I shall sit up too, and the Lord grant that I may see nothingworse than a Ghost! I quit not Donna Antonia's Bedside during thisblessed night: Let me see any one dare to enter the room, and be Hemortal or immortal, be He Ghost, Devil, or Man, I warrant his repentingthat ever He crossed the threshold!'
This hint was sufficiently strong, and Ambrosio understood its meaning.But instead of showing that He perceived her suspicions; He repliedmildly that He approved the Duenna's precautions, and advised her topersevere in her intention. This, She assured him faithfully that Hemight depend upon her doing. Jacintha then conducted him into thechamber where the Ghost had appeared, and Flora returned to her Lady's.
Jacintha opened the door of the haunted room with a trembling hand:She ventured to peep in; But the wealth of India would not have temptedher to cross the threshold. She gave the Taper to the Monk, wished himwell through the adventure, and hastened to be gone. Ambrosio entered.He bolted the door, placed the light upon the Table, and seated himselfin the Chair which on the former night had sustained Antonia. In spiteof Matilda's assurances that the Spectre was a mere creation of fancy,his mind was impressed with a certain mysterious horror. He in vainendeavoured to shake it off. The silence of the night, the story ofthe Apparition, the chamber wainscotted with dark oak pannells, therecollection which it brought with it of the murdered Elvira, and hisincertitude respecting the nature of the drops given by him to Antonia,made him feel uneasy at his present situation. But He thought muchless of the Spectre, than of the poison. Should He have destroyed theonly object which rendered life dear to him; Should the Ghost'sprediction prove true; Should Antonia in three days be no more, and Hethe wretched cause of her death ...... The supposition was toohorrible to dwell upon. He drove away these dreadful images, and asoften they presented themselves again before him. Matilda had assuredhim that the effects of the Opiate would be speedy. He listened withfear, yet with eagerness, expecting to hear some disturbance in theadjoining chamber. All was still silent. He concluded that the dropshad not begun to operate. Great was the stake, for which He nowplayed: A moment would suffice to decide upon his misery or happiness.Matilda had taught him the means of ascertaining that life was notextinct for ever: Upon this assay depended all his hopes. With everyinstant his impatience redoubled; His terrors grew more lively, hisanxiety more awake. Unable to bear this state of incertitude, Heendeavoured to divert it by substituting the thoughts of Others to hisown. The Books, as was before mentioned, were ranged upon shelves nearthe Table: This stood exactly opposite to the Bed, which was placed inan Alcove near the Closet door. Ambrosio took down a Volume, andseated himself by the Table: But his attention wandered from the Pagesbefore him. Antonia's image and that of the murdered Elvira persistedto force themselves before his imagination. Still He continued toread, though his eyes ran over the characters without his mind beingconscious of their import. Such was his occupation, when He fanciedthat He heard a footstep. He turned his head, but nobody was to beseen.
He resumed his Book; But in a few minutes after the same sound wasrepeated, and followed by a rustling noise close behind him. He nowstarted from his seat, and looking round him, perceived the Closet doorstanding half-unclosed. On his first entering the room He had tried toopen it, but found it bolted on the inside.
'How is this?' said He to himself; 'How comes this door unfastened?'
He advanced towards it: He pushed it open, and looked into the closet:No one was there. While He stood irresolute, He thought that Hedistinguished a groaning in the adjacent chamber: It was Antonia's,and He supposed that the drops began to take effect: But uponlistening more attentively, He found the noise to be caused byJacintha, who had fallen asleep by the Lady's Bedside, and was snoringmost lustily. Ambrosio drew back, and returned to the other room,musing upon the sudden opening of the Closet door, for which He strovein vain to account.
He paced the chamber up and down in silence. At length He stopped, andthe Bed attracted his attention. The curtain of the Recess was buthalf-drawn. He sighed involuntarily.
'That Bed,' said He in a low voice, 'That Bed was Elvira's! There hasShe past many a quiet night, for She was good and innocent. How soundmust have been her sleep! And yet now She sleeps sounder! Does Sheindeed sleep? Oh! God grant that She may! What if She rose from herGrave at this sad and silent hour? What if She broke the bonds of theTomb, and glided angrily before my blasted eyes? Oh! I never couldsupport the sight! Again to see her form distorted by dying agonies,her blood-swollen veins, her livid countenance, her eyes bursting fromtheir sockets with pain! To hear her speak of future punishment,menace me with Heaven's vengeance, tax me with the crimes I havecommitted, with those I am going to commit ..... Great God! What isthat?'
As He uttered these words, his eyes which were fixed upon the Bed, sawthe curtain shaken gently backwards and forwards. The Apparition wasrecalled to his mind, and He almost fancied that He beheld Elvira'svisionary form reclining upon the Bed. A few moments considerationsufficed to reassure him.
'It was only the wind,' said He, recovering himself.
Again He paced the chamber; But an involuntary movement of awe andinquietude constantly led his eye towards the Alcove. He drew near itwith irresolution. He paused before He ascended the few steps which ledto it. He put out his hand thrice to remove the curtain, and as oftendrew it back.
'Absurd terrors!' He
cried at length, ashamed of his own weakness----
Hastily he mounted the steps; When a Figure drest in white started fromthe Alcove, and gliding by him, made with precipitation towards theCloset. Madness and despair now supplied the Monk with that courage,of which He had till then been destitute. He flew down the steps,pursued the Apparition, and attempted to grasp it.
'Ghost, or Devil, I hold you!' He exclaimed, and seized the Spectre bythe arm.
'Oh! Christ Jesus!' cried a shrill voice; 'Holy Father, how you gripeme! I protest that I meant no harm!'
This address, as well as the arm which He held, convinced the Abbotthat the supposed Ghost was substantial flesh and blood. He drew theIntruder towards the Table, and holding up the light, discovered thefeatures of ...... Madona Flora!
Incensed at having been betrayed by this trifling cause into fears soridiculous, He asked her sternly, what business had brought her to thatchamber. Flora, ashamed at being found out, and terrified at theseverity of Ambrosio's looks, fell upon her knees, and promised to makea full confession.
'I protest, reverend Father,' said She, 'that I am quite grieved athaving disturbed you: Nothing was further from my intention. I meantto get out of the room as quietly as I got in; and had you beenignorant that I watched you, you know, it would have been the samething as if I had not watched you at all. To be sure, I did very wrongin being a Spy upon you, that I cannot deny; But Lord! your Reverence,how can a poor weak Woman resist curiosity? Mine was so strong to knowwhat you were doing, that I could not but try to get a little peep,without any body knowing any thing about it. So with that I left oldDame Jacintha sitting by my Lady's Bed, and I ventured to steal intothe Closet. Being unwilling to interrupt you, I contented myself atfirst with putting my eye to the Keyhole; But as I could see nothing bythis means, I undrew the bolt, and while your back was turned to theAlcove, I whipt me in softly and silently. Here I lay snug behind thecurtain, till your Reverence found me out, and seized me ere I had timeto regain the Closet door. This is the whole truth, I assure you, HolyFather, and I beg your pardon a thousand times for my impertinence.'
During this speech the Abbot had time to recollect himself: He wassatisfied with reading the penitent Spy a lecture upon the dangers ofcuriosity, and the meanness of the action in which She had been justdiscovered. Flora declared herself fully persuaded that She had donewrong; She promised never to be guilty of the same fault again, and wasretiring very humble and contrite to Antonia's chamber, when the Closetdoor was suddenly thrown open, and in rushed Jacintha pale and out ofbreath.
'Oh! Father! Father!' She cried in a voice almost choaked withterror; 'What shall I do! What shall I do! Here is a fine piece ofwork! Nothing but misfortunes! Nothing but dead people, and dyingpeople! Oh! I shall go distracted! I shall go distracted!'
'Speak! Speak!' cried Flora and the Monk at the same time; 'What hashappened? What is the matter?'
'Oh! I shall have another Corse in my House! Some Witch has certainlycast a spell upon it, upon me, and upon all about me! Poor DonnaAntonia! There She lies in just such convulsions, as killed herMother! The Ghost told her true! I am sure, the Ghost has told hertrue!'
Flora ran, or rather flew to her Lady's chamber: Ambrosio followed her,his bosom trembling with hope and apprehension. They found Antonia asJacintha had described, torn by racking convulsions from which they invain endeavoured to relieve her. The Monk dispatched Jacintha to theAbbey in all haste, and commissioned her to bring Father Pablos backwith her, without losing a moment.
'I will go for him,' replied Jacintha, 'and tell him to come hither;But as to bringing him myself, I shall do no such thing. I am sure thatthe House is bewitched, and burn me if ever I set foot in it again.'
With this resolution She set out for the Monastery, and delivered toFather Pablos the Abbot's orders. She then betook herself to the Houseof old Simon Gonzalez, whom She resolved never to quit, till She hadmade him her Husband, and his dwelling her own.
Father Pablos had no sooner beheld Antonia, than He pronounced herincurable. The convulsions continued for an hour: During that timeher agonies were much milder than those which her groans created in theAbbot's heart. Her every pang seemed a dagger in his bosom, and Hecursed himself a thousand times for having adopted so barbarous aproject. The hour being expired, by degrees the Fits became lessfrequent, and Antonia less agitated. She felt that her dissolution wasapproaching, and that nothing could save her.
'Worthy Ambrosio,' She said in a feeble voice, while She pressed hishand to her lips; 'I am now at liberty to express, how grateful is myheart for your attention and kindness. I am upon the bed of death; Yetan hour, and I shall be no more. I may therefore acknowledge withoutrestraint, that to relinquish your society was very painful to me: Butsuch was the will of a Parent, and I dared not disobey. I die withoutrepugnance: There are few, who will lament my leaving them; There arefew, whom I lament to leave. Among those few, I lament for none morethan for yourself; But we shall meet again, Ambrosio! We shall one daymeet in heaven: There shall our friendship be renewed, and my Mothershall view it with pleasure!'
She paused. The Abbot shuddered when She mentioned Elvira: Antoniaimputed his emotion to pity and concern for her.
'You are grieved for me, Father,' She continued; 'Ah! sigh not for myloss. I have no crimes to repent, at least none of which I amconscious, and I restore my soul without fear to him from whom Ireceived it. I have but few requests to make: Yet let me hope thatwhat few I have shall be granted. Let a solemn Mass be said for mysoul's repose, and another for that of my beloved Mother. Not that Idoubt her resting in her Grave: I am now convinced that my reasonwandered, and the falsehood of the Ghost's prediction is sufficient toprove my error. But every one has some failing: My Mother may havehad hers, though I knew them not: I therefore wish a Mass to becelebrated for her repose, and the expence may be defrayed by thelittle wealth of which I am possessed. Whatever may then remain, Ibequeath to my Aunt Leonella. When I am dead, let the Marquis de lasCisternas know that his Brother's unhappy family can no longerimportune him. But disappointment makes me unjust: They tell me thatHe is ill, and perhaps had it been in his power, He wished to haveprotected me. Tell him then, Father, only that I am dead, and that ifHe had any faults to me, I forgave him from my heart. This done, I havenothing more to ask for, than your prayers: Promise to remember myrequests, and I shall resign my life without a pang or sorrow.'
Ambrosio engaged to comply with her desires, and proceeded to give herabsolution. Every moment announced the approach of Antonia's fate:Her sight failed; Her heart beat sluggishly; Her fingers stiffened, andgrew cold, and at two in the morning She expired without a groan. Assoon as the breath had forsaken her body, Father Pablos retired,sincerely affected at the melancholy scene. On her part, Flora gaveway to the most unbridled sorrow.
Far different concerns employed Ambrosio: He sought for the pulsewhose throbbing, so Matilda had assured him, would prove Antonia'sdeath but temporal. He found it; He pressed it; It palpitated beneathhis hand, and his heart was filled with ecstacy. However, He carefullyconcealed his satisfaction at the success of his plan. He assumed amelancholy air, and addressing himself to Flora, warned her againstabandoning herself to fruitless sorrow. Her tears were too sincere topermit her listening to his counsels, and She continued to weepunceasingly.
The Friar withdrew, first promising to give orders himself about theFuneral, which, out of consideration for Jacintha as He pretended,should take place with all expedition. Plunged in grief for the lossof her beloved Mistress, Flora scarcely attended to what He said.Ambrosio hastened to command the Burial. He obtained permission fromthe Prioress, that the Corse should be deposited in St. Clare'sSepulchre: and on the Friday Morning, every proper and needful ceremonybeing performed, Antonia's body was committed to the Tomb.
On the same day Leonella arrived at Madrid, intending to present heryoung Husband to Elvira. Various circumstances had obliged her todefer her jou
rney from Tuesday to Friday, and She had no opportunity ofmaking this alteration in her plans known to her Sister. As her heartwas truly affectionate, and as She had ever entertained a sincereregard for Elvira and her Daughter, her surprize at hearing of theirsudden and melancholy fate was fully equalled by her sorrow anddisappointment. Ambrosio sent to inform her of Antonia's bequest: Ather solication, He promised, as soon as Elvira's trifling debts weredischarged, to transmit to her the remainder. This being settled, noother business detained Leonella in Madrid, and She returned to Cordovawith all diligence.
