Volume II Part 65 (1/2)
”We have other witness thou wilt not dare to gainsay,” said the presiding officer. ”This learned person is amply corroborated by evidence that must effectually silence all denial. He hath referred us to her who was present, Leonora da Rimini.”
”Leonora! what, my own--my betrothed? She my accuser?”
”Spare thy speech and listen. We could not bring the maiden hither, insomuch as the nature of her malady admits not of removal: but her evidence and accusation are duly attested, taken at her own request, not many hours ago. The substance of her deposition is as follows:--A confession to her of thine intention to murder Conrad Bergmann, the artist aforesaid, being jealous of his attentions; and furthermore, in the agony of guilt, thou didst confess in her presence, having first strangled, and afterwards thrown him into the river, hoping thereby to conceal thy crime; then forcing her to swear she would keep the matter secret, and threatening her life in case it were divulged. This outrage, and this alone, hath nigh driven her frantic; her life being in jeopardy from thy violence. What sayest thou, Sigismund de Vessey?”
”A lie, most foul and audacious, trumped up by that impostor! Leonora?
Impossible. I would not believe though it were from her own lips. Some demon hath possessed her. This disorder is more than common madness.”
He looked around. The whole was like the phantasma of some terrible dream. Bewildered, and hardly knowing what course to pursue, in vain he attempted to shake the testimony of the h.o.a.ry villain before him; and having at present none other means of reb.u.t.ting the accusation, he was ordered into close custody until the morrow.
Utterly unprepared with evidence, he knew not where to apply. That he was the victim of some foul plot so far appeared certain; but for what purpose, and at whose instigation, was inexplicable.
Ere an hour had elapsed De Vessey found himself in one of the cells of a public dungeon, with ample leisure to form plans for proving his innocence. He determined early on the morrow to acquaint his friends, and employ a celebrated advocate to expose this villainous doctor, who no doubt had designs either on his purse or person.
In a while the prisoner fell asleep from fatigue and exhaustion. He was awakened by a sudden glare across his eyelids. At first, imagining he was under the influence of some extravagant dream, he made little effort to arouse himself. A figure stood beside the couch, a lamp lifted above his head. A friar's cowl concealed his features; his person, too, was enveloped in a coa.r.s.e garment, with a huge rosary at his girdle.
”Mortal, awake and listen,” said the unknown visitor. ”Art weary of life, or does this present world content thee?”
”Who art thou?” said De Vessey, scarcely raising himself from the pallet.
”I am thy friend, thy deliverer, an' thou wilt.”
”Thanks!” said the knight, springing from his rec.u.mbent posture.
”Stay!” replied the intruder; ”there be conditions ere thou pa.s.s hence. Miserable offspring of Adam, ye still cling to your prison and your clay. Wherefore shrink from the separation, afraid to shake off your bonds, your loathsome carcase, and spring forth at once to life?
Art thou prepared to fulfil one--but one condition for thy release?”
”Name it. Manifest my innocence; and if it be gold, thou shalt have thy desire. No hired advocate e'er yet held such a fee.”
”Keep thy gold for baser uses; it buyeth not my benefits. But remember, thy life is not worth a week's purchase, neither is thy mistress's, forsooth, shouldest thou be witless enough to refuse. An ignominious death, a base exit for thyself--for her, madness and a speedy grave. One fate awaits ye both. Life and health, if thou consent, are yours.”
”Thou speakest riddles. It were vain trying to comprehend their import. Name thy conditions. Aught that honour may purchase will I give.”
The stranger threw back his cowl, displaying the features of the renowned Doctor Hermann Sichel. A gleam of lurid intelligence lighted his grim grey eyes, that might betoken either insanity or excitement.
Without reflecting for one moment on the hazard or imprudence of his conduct, De Vessey immediately rushed forward, grappled with his adversary, and threw him.
”Now will I have deadly vengeance, fiend! Take that!” said he, drawing forth a concealed poniard and thrusting with all his might. Scorn puckered the features of the pretended monk. The weapon's point was driven back, refusing to enter, as though his enemy held a charmed existence.
”Put back thy weapon; thou wilt have need of it elsewhere, silly one.”
De Vessey was confounded at this unlooked-for result. His foe seemed invulnerable, and he slunk back.
”I forgive thee, poor fool! Put it back, I say. There--there; now to work--time hastens, and there is little s.p.a.ce for parley.”
”What is thy will?”
”Thy welfare, thy life: listen. Yonder unhappy wretch I have loaden with benefits, rescued from poverty, disgrace; lifted him to the pinnacle of his ambition--the highest rank in art. Base ingrate, he threatened to betray, to denounce, and I crushed the reptile. He is now what thou shalt be shortly unless my power be put forth for thy rescue. Not all the united efforts of man can deliver thee. Beyond earthly aid, thou diest the death of a dog!”