Part 38 (1/2)
”The family felt convinced that Jeronymo was no more. From that day forward they publicly announced his death, and went into mourning. The circ.u.mstance of the ring left no doubt, even in the mind of Antonia, and added a considerable weight to the addresses of the chevalier.
”In the meantime the violent shock which the young countess had received from the sight of the apparition brought on her a disorder so dangerous that the hopes of Lorenzo were very near being destroyed forever. On her recovery she insisted upon taking the veil; and it was only at the most serious remonstrances of her confessor, in whom she placed implicit confidence, that she was induced to abandon her project. At length the united solicitations of the family, and of the confessor, forced from her a reluctant consent. The last day of mourning was fixed on for the day of marriage, and the old marquis determined to add to the solemnity of the occasion by making over all his estates to his lawful heir.
”The day arrived, and Lorenzo received his trembling bride at the altar.
In the evening a splendid banquet was prepared for the cheerful guests in a hall superbly illuminated, and the most lively and delightful music contributed to increase the general gladness. The happy old marquis wished all the world to partic.i.p.ate in his joy. All the entrances of the palace were thrown open, and every one who sympathized in his happiness was joyfully welcomed. In the midst of the throng--”
The Sicilian paused. A trembling expectation suspended our breath.
”In-the midst of the throng,” continued the prisoner, ”appeared a Franciscan monk, to whom my attention was directed by the person who sat next to me at table. He was standing motionless like a marble pillar.
His shape was tall and thin; his face pale and ghastly; his eyes were fixed with a grave and mournful expression on the new-married couple.
The joy which beamed on the face of every one present appeared not on his. His countenance never once varied. He seemed like a statue among the living. Such an object, appearing amidst the general joy, struck me more forcibly from its contrast with everything around. It left on my mind so indelible an impression that from it alone I have been enabled (which would otherwise have been impossible) to recollect the features of the Franciscan monk in the Russian officer; for, without doubt, you must have already conceived that the person I have described was no other than your Armenian.
”I frequently attempted to withdraw my eyes from this terrible figure, but they wandered back involuntarily, and found his countenance unaltered. I pointed him out to the person who sat nearest to me on the other side, and he did the same to the person next to him. In a few minutes a general curiosity and astonishment pervaded the whole company.
The conversation languished; a general silence succeeded; the monk did not heed it. He continued motionless as before; his grave and mournful looks constantly fixed upon the new-married couple; his appearance struck every one with terror. The young countess alone, who found the transcript of her own sorrow in the fact of the stranger, beheld with a melancholy satisfaction the only object that seemed to understand and sympathize in her sufferings. The crowd insensibly diminished. It was past midnight; the music became fainter and more languid; the tapers grew dim, and many of them went out. The conversation, declining by degrees, lost itself at last in secret murmurs, and the faintly illuminated hall was nearly deserted. The monk, in the meantime, continued motionless, with the same grave and mournful look still fixed on the new-married couple. The company at length rose from the table; the guests dispersed; the family a.s.sembled in a separate group, and the monk, though uninvited, continued near them. How it happened that no person spoke to him I cannot conceive.
”The female friends now surrounded the trembling bride, who cast a supplicating and distressed look on the venerable stranger; he did not answer it. The gentlemen a.s.sembled in the same manner around the bridegroom. A solemn and anxious silence prevailed among them. 'That we should be so happy here together,' began at length the old marquis, who alone seemed not to behold the stranger, or at least seemed to behold him without dismay. 'That we should be so happy here together, and my son Jeronymo cannot be with us!'
”'Have you invited him, and has he failed to come?' asked the monk.
It was the first time he had spoken. We looked at him in alarm.
”'Alas! he is gone to a place from whence there is no return,' answered the old man. 'Reverend father I you misunderstood me. My son Jeronymo is dead.'
”'Perhaps he only fears to appear in this company,' replied the monk.
'Who knows how your son Jeronymo may be situated? Let him now hear the voice which he heard the last. Desire your son Lorenzo to call him.'
”'What means he?' whispered the company to one another. Lorenzo changed color. I will not deny that my own hair began to stand on end.
”In the meantime the monk approached a sideboard; he took a gla.s.s of wine and carried to his lips. 'To the memory of our dear Jeronymo!'
said he. 'Let every one who loved the deceased follow my example.'
”'Be you who you may, reverend father!' exclaimed the old marquis, 'you have p.r.o.nounced a name dear to us all, and you are heartily welcome here;' then turning to us, he offered us full gla.s.ses. 'Come, my friends!' continued he, 'let us not be surpa.s.sed by a stranger. The memory of my son Jeronymo!
”Never, I believe, was any toast less heartily received.
”'There is one gla.s.s still unemptied,” said the marquis. 'Why does my son Lorenzo refuse to drink this friendly toast?'
”Lorenzo, trembling, received the gla.s.s from the hands of the monk; tremblingly he put it to his lips. 'To my dearly-beloved brother Jeronymo!' he stammered out, and replaced the gla.s.s with a shudder.
”'That was my murderer's voice!' exclaimed a terrible figure, which appeared suddenly in the midst of us, covered with blood, and disfigured with horrible wounds.
”Do not ask me the rest,” added the Sicilian, with every symptom of horror in his countenance. ”I lost my senses the moment I looked at this apparition. The same happened to every one present. When we recovered the monk and the ghost had disappeared; Lorenzo was writhing in the agonies of death. He was carried to bed in the most dreadful convulsions. No person attended him but his confessor and the sorrowful old marquis, in whose presence he expired. The marquis died a few weeks after him. Lorenzo's secret is locked in the bosom of the priest who received his last confession; no person ever learnt what it was.
”Soon after this event a well was cleaned in the farmyard of the marquis' villa. It had been disused for many years, and was almost closed up by shrubs and old trees. On digging among the rubbish a human skeleton was found. The house where this happened is now no more; the family del M-----nte is extinct, and Antonia's tomb may be seen in a convent not far from Salerno.
”You see,” continued the Sicilian, seeing us all stand silent and thoughtful, ”you see how my acquaintance with this Russian officer, Armenian, or Franciscan friar originated. Judge now whether I had not good cause to tremble at the sight of a being who has twice placed himself in my way in a manner so terrible.”
”I beg you will answer me one question more,” said the prince, rising from his seat. ”Have you been always sincere in your account of everything relating to the chevalier?”