The Complete Northanger Horrid Novel Collection (9 Books of Gothic Romance and Horror)

by Eliza Parsons

  No sooner had the Count pronounced these words, than a side door opened, and an old man, of a striking beauty, and an elegant carriage, entered the apartment. I bowed respectfully, and was going to thank him for his kind invitation, when he ran towards me, pressing me tenderly to his bosom.

  "I know you Don Carlos," he added; "and the discovery you have made just now saves me a farther elucidation. You have preserved my son's life; receive the grateful effusions of a father's heart; but, at the same time, lament with me his untimely death." With these words a torrent of tears gushed down his cheeks.

  "Gracious Heaven!" I exclaimed, kissing the tears from his cheeks, "is it possible?" A violent emotion, which had been preparing all the morning, and only had waited for a pretext of growing loud, interrupted me here. A copious stream of tears relieved my heart; I pressed him to my bosom, and reclined my face on his shoulder.

  "Yes, you are quite that sensible, excellent man," he resumed, "whose picture my son has so frequently drawn to us with enthusiastic warmth. Alas! his fate envied him the happiness of seeing you once more. He went into the army some years since; a few months ago he was thrown off his horse, and died of the fall." Here he paused a few moments, and then continued, "Yet you have lost nothing by his death; the son's friendship for you has devolved to the father. I do not love mankind; yet I wish you would accept of his place in my heart, and bestow, at least, a part of your affection for my unhappy boy upon his father." It was very natural that I replied I had loved him long since, and that I would endeavour to deserve his kind opinion. He now left me reluctantly, turning to the Count. I told him his name; and it fortunately happened that he was an intimate friend of the Baron in his younger years. Our reverend host was rejoiced to renew an old acquaintance, and we began soon to converse so cordially as if we had known one another for years, and were members of the same family.

  Having spent about half an hour in the most agreeable manner, the Baron said to me, "I now will conduct you to my daughter, who has seen you already this morning, and instantly recollected your features. You see," he added, smiling, "how strongly your image is imprinted on our hearts,"

  "Our affairs are in an excellent train!" the Count whispered to me, while our kind host opened the door.

  "Here, Adelheid, I bring you the friend of our Adolf!" the Baron said, on our entering his daughter's apartment. "He has promised me to be my son and your brother."

  The sweet girl sat upon the sofa, holding a book in her hand. She laid it down on our entrance, and rose to meet us. She had exchanged her green hat with a ribbon of the same colour, and her bosom was adorned with a white rose. The rest of her dress was nearly the same as in the morning; her hair was in the same charming disorder, and a miniature picture de-pended from her swelling bosom. It was a manly face; but fortunately I thought that it was the picture of her brother.

  An amiable confusion blushed on her beautiful countenance. My secret agitation did, indeed, render me very unfit for close observation: yet I perceived in her timid looks, and on the faint blushes of her dimpled cheeks, certain symptoms which gave nourishment to my hopes.

  An innocent girl is chiefly swayed by instinct, when she meets the man whom her artless heart has chosen without being conscious of it. The most consummate art could not have invented a more charming reception than simple nature effected here. The visible tremour which glided through her frame was a silent confession that something more than the request of her father prompted her to do what she did afterwards. Her heart spoke through her looks, though it was afraid of being understood. The image and, if I do not flatter myself too much, the beautified image, of her secret dreams was led into her arms by her own father, to cherish it as a brother. But who can force the human heart not to overstep the limits prescribed by parental authority?

  The father did not understand his daughter completely. He imagined that she did not answer his wishes, and his tenderness for me, as much as he had expected. "How!" said he, "does Adelheid thus coldly receive the friends of her father, and her second brother?" Her looks could, however, have made him sensible of his mistake; they intreated for indulgence, and at the same time made the sweetest confession. He smiled benevolently at her confusion; and encircling his daughter with his arm, pressed her to my bosom, requesting me to embrace my sister. Her cheeks burned, and my lips quivered. This was all that I was able to observe.

  I now led her to her sofa, presenting the Count to her; and she returned his courtly civility in a manner which betrayed the most accomplished education. I now was more at leisure to make observations, and my eager soul was absorbed in the contemplation of her exquisite charms. I had travelled much, and seen a great many beautiful women; I even had possessed a wife adorned with heavenly charms; and my imagination added to her image, which was deeply engraven in my soul, perfections which the original, perhaps, never had; but here my boldest dreams were more than realized; I frequently doubted that I was awake.

  Her soul, which soon recovered its wonted flight, to unfold all its perfections, enchanted me irresistibly by its romantic turn. I never should have thought it possible that such pure and just notions of human life could be treasured up in that beautiful mind, which evidently had received rather a singular turn. Even the prejudices of education, the national notions of her country, and the frailties of the human heart, had, either by accident, or by an innate talent, given birth to adorable virtues. What an angelic, heart was here to gain!

  A walk in the garden being proposed, she took hold of my arm with the innocent familiarity of a sister; stopped at her favourite spots, and informed me, with an inchanting simplicity, where she sometimes had thought of me. "Don't be angry, dear Marquis," she added, "if I now and then, perhaps, have intruded upon your dreams by an obscure omen; for I really believe that this is possible; and Adolf repeated your name constantly towards the end of his life."

  How swiftly did the hours elapse in the company of that angel! The Count, who was elated with joy at my happiness, completely accommodated himself to the nature of her ideas, and in a short time spoke in the same enthusiastic strain that was so peculiar to her. Adelheid found him very amiable, and told it him without reserve. I was several times in danger of giving way to jealousy; yet she always reconciled me again by the tenderness she evinced for me, and by numberless little endearments. The father took an artless and cordial share in the innocent flow of our spirits. The first rapture of joy was, however, of no long duration,

  CHAPTER IX

  THE Baron had made us promise, the first evening after our our arrival, to stay some weeks with him; and these weeks were gradually extended to months. Adelheid's natural seriousness returned by degrees. The Baron was fond of hunting, notwithstanding his age and infirmity; it being likewise the favourite diversion of the Count, they were almost the whole day in the forest; and I was fond of nothing. A small, well selected library did, indeed, agreeably fill up many of my hours; yet still many dreadful chasms were left, and I was obliged to have re-course to walking to shake off the heaviness of time.

  Adelheid being fond of exercise, we frequently met in the garden, where we were least disturbed. She seemed to have dedicated the morning so religiously to serious occupations, that I would have intruded upon her on no account. I was, besides, in a very anxious situation. I was sensible of her attachment to me; but could I venture to presume that this was any thing else than a sister's love?

  As for myself, I loved her with an unspeakable ardour, with an uncommon patience, and an unexampled resignation. I was formerly too proud to receive laws from the female sex, but now saw myself at once reduced to the most obedient submission. A young girl directed the course of my thoughts at pleasure, and guided the current of my ideas. I had completely lost the dominion over myself, was unexpectedly deprived of what formerly constituted my greatest pride, and there were hours when I shed tears at that loss. The name of a sister entitled her to many innocent familiarities which transported me beyond myself. The language of friendship f
lowed from her lips, and I was sure her heart did not give them the lie; yet she never displayed one of those finer symptoms of a strong, over-powering passion; appeared to apprehend and to divine nothing; was always of the same temper, without either reserve or caprice. I did not know that there are female hearts of a nature different from that of the generality. What Adelheid had in common with the rest of her sex, with respect to love, I mistook for a peculiarity of all passions, and tormented myself with my own feelings at a time when I could have been completely happy. We generally took a walk when the day began to decline. She took familiarly hold of my arm when we were alone; we rambled through different parts of the garden, and a large seat of turf, in the most distant corner, was commonly the spot to which we resorted at last. Adelheid always grew more serious, and at length even melancholy, when we approached it, and I was taken with the same mood. The compass of this world was too narrow for her soul; she gathered matter for new images in other regions: night stole upon us, and threw a deeper gloom over our dreams. A sweet melancholy frequently made us weep, without our being able to account for it. I was generally so much agitated, that the power of utterance failed me. She then reclined upon my shoulder, and looked at me with eyes full of benign tenderness. One evening, when we were in the same melancholy disposition, she took hold of my hand, and pressing it with affection, said, "Dear Carlos, the disposition of your sister renders her very unhappy: it would be very well if she were not to sojourn much longer in this world. But would you then continue to remember me; and do you think you will know me again in another world?"

  This and similar scenes overwhelmed me with a speechless melancholy, which gradually began to prey on my vitals. She perceived it, and caught the contagion. The Baron, too, was grieved at my alarming situation. The Count asked me, with tender sympathy, what ailed me? But what could I reply? He imagined that I was happy.

  We met one evening in the garden, equally immersed in that gloomy melancholy. I had been in a violent agony of mind all the day long, and almost distracted. Being impatient to get rid of that desponding mood, I took up my gun and went into the park, where I wandered about till evening was already far advanced. No one knew where I was; and when I was returning to the castle, I met some servants, who had been sent in search of me. Having sent them back, I climbed over the wall of the park, to come to the castle by a shorter way, and, to confess the truth, to meet Adelheid, who generally took a walk at that time.

  I really met her, after a short ramble through the garden, absorbed in profound reverie, and walking with trembling steps. She did not observe me, although I was only a few paces distant from her, being occupied with a rose, which she alternately took from her bosom and replaced again. She was pale and dejected, carrying my cane in her hand, upon which she reclined, and frequently fixed her looks, I saw her start several times, looking around with a ghastly aspect, and moving her hand as if speaking with some person. At length she saw me standing close by her side, began to stagger, and I had scarcely time enough to receive her in my arms.

  "Good God! Marquis, where have you been?" she said, collecting herself immediately; but that very moment a new misfortune happened. My gun being suspended round my shoulder by a strap, I pulled it back to be better able to support Adelheid; but it was unhappily cocked; the trigger came against the branch of a small tree, the fusil went off, and the ball wounded one of my fingers. It bled copiously; and my hand being lifted up, the blood streamed into the face and on the bosom of the Baroness.

  This accident restored her entirely to the full use of her senses, instead of depriving her of it. "Eternal God! what have you done?" she exclaimed, terrified, and instantly pulled me towards an adjacent arbour, to examine my wound, poured the contents of her smelling bottle upon her handkerchief, and tied it carefully up. Having dressed my wound with anxious alacrity, she asked me tenderly. Do you suffer great pains, dear Marquis?" Very little on my hand," I replied. "Good God! are you wounded in another place besides?" "Alas! here, here I have violent pains!" pointing at my heart. "What pains you there? Will you not tell it your sister?" she resumed, taking hold of my hand. "Dearest Adelheid, how can I deserve that angelic goodness, how can I make amends for your uncommon tenderness?" "Is this all that pains you? Have you not deserved my love long since? The best amends you can make for my tenderness is to return my love."

  "O, then, I have deserved it, and made ample amends; and you, Adelheid, are in my debt. After this poor heart of mine has wasted almost all its vital powers in a nameless grief, you ask why it bleeds? Oh! it is dreadful to love without hope; and a tranquil return of a violent passion is more galling to a spoiled, insatiable heart, than the most rancorous hatred."

  A torrent of tears gushed from her eyes and she began, after a short pause, "You are very unhappy, Carlos, if my tenderness does not suffice you. I have frequently asked myself, in the hours of silent melancholy, whether I am capable of a more ardent love than that which my heart feels for you? I do not think I am. Tell me, dear Carlos, what do you desire me to do?" "What I desire? Can words describe that? I wish that Adelheid would live only for her Carlos, who knows no other happiness but that of thinking of his sweet sister, and would shed his last drop of blood to purchase her felicity."

  "Is that all my Carlos wishes? Is not your image the sweetest and the only object of my dreams and of my happiest hours? Does not every blessing of my life depend upon your affection? Does not my heart beat stronger, and my countenance assume a deeper hue, when I see you? Does not your image follow me every where like my shadow? Are you not the only object of my pride, and the sole arbiter of my happiness? Shall I quit, for your sake, father, family, and friends; or live with you in a dreary solitude upon roots? Speak only, Carlos, and your Adelheid will cheerfully obey. The world, nay eternity itself, would be a lonely desert to me without you!"

  "Then you consent to become my wife; my faithful, ever adored wife?"

  "Wife, or sister. Is there any difference? Or do you think I have a stronger claim to your love as wife? Here is my hand; I will be any thing you wish me to be."

  On our return to the castle, we met the Baron, and the Count, who also had gone in quest of me, and with rapture embraced the recovered son and friend. I was happier than words can describe, but found it impossible to join in the lively follies of their sportive humour. Adelheid was in the same predicament. The Baron perceived our mutual transport, and his cheerfulness increased.

  I went, on the subsequent morning, to the Baron, as soon as he got up, and discovered the whole to him. He conducted me silently to his daughter, who, as well as myself, encircled his knees, and lifting us up with tears of affection in his eyes, said kindly, "God bless you, my children: you have prevented me." S******i at most was frantic with joy. Before a month elapsed Adelheid was my wife.

  We resolved to spend the summer in the country, and to go to Paris the ensuing winter. We were unanimous in all our resolutions. The Count was looked upon as a member of our family, and had rendered himself as necessary to the Baron and Adelheid as he was to myself. How unspeakably charming was the summer to me! I never had enjoyed the fine season with so much hilarity and unclouded contentment. We became every day more susceptible of the blessings of a domesticated life; and our sociable happiness assumed a livelier complexion and increased with every hour. I generally spent the morning in private with my wife; the dinner bell summoned us to more common pleasures. Every one of us regaled our sociable circle, after dinner, with the new ideas and observations he had gathered in the course of his activity in the house and abroad.

  Adelheid was of a very serious character, and my joviality was gradually mellowed by her turn of thinking, She soon desired me to relate my history, and loved to hear me speak of Elmira. She was pleased with her melancholy disposition, and lamented her misfortunes; but conceived more predilection for the spirit of the confederation, in which they originated, than I wished: she found its principles good, and censured me now and then for having acted with too much imp
etuosity of passion. We discoursed on this subject every evening which found us alone. While she attempted to penetrate deeper into the character of the different circumstances, she did, indeed, not reconcile me to a society that had caused me so many sufferings, but, nevertheless, subdued my aversion from its principles. The choice of our sociable pleasures depended on our humour and on circumstances. Adelheid hunted, fished, or walked, with us in the park. She sang uncommonly well, and played the pianoforte to perfection. I played the flute tolerably well: the Count was an adept on several instruments and the old Baron was delighted with our little concerts. Reading, and the mutual relation of our adventures, filled up the hours which were not dedicated to these and to more serious occupations. None of us had ever enjoyed so much unclouded happiness for so long a period and none of our sociable circle had ever been so completely sensible of his felicity.