With these words Reinhold closed his long narrative, which had,
meanwhile, in a hundred different ways, tormented me. The most
extraordinary and irreconcilable contradictions laboured, crossing and
re-crossing each other, through my brain.
My very identity, my individuality, was cruelly become the game--the
mere plaything, of chance, while as it were, losing myself, and melting
away into forms and features not my own, I swam, without hold or stay,
upon that wild sea of events, which broke in upon me like raging waves.
I had, indeed, virtually lost myself, for I could no longer recover any
power of voluntary action. It was through the interference of my arm
that Victorin had been hurled into the abyss; but it was chance, and no
impulse of volition, by which I was guided on that occasion. "Now,"
said I to myself, "I come into his place; but then Reinhold knows Father
Medardus, the preacher in the Capuchin Convent, and thus in his
estimation I appear only that which I truly am. On the other hand, the
adventure with the Baroness, which the Count had in contemplation, falls
upon my shoulders, so that in this respect I become again Victorin! To
myself an inexplicable riddle, thought becomes a mere chaos. Like the
fabulous knight, who fought with his DOUBLE in the dark forest, I am at
variance, and combating with myself."
Notwithstanding these internal commotions, I succeeded in counterfeiting
tolerably well such composure as is becoming to a priest; and in this
mood I came for the first time into the presence of the Baron.
I found him a man advanced in years; but in his now shrunk features, lay
yet the evidences of the strength and vivacity which he had once
possessed. Not age, indeed, but grief, had ploughed wrinkles in his
forehead, and blanched his hair. Notwithstanding this, there prevailed
in all that he said, and in his whole behaviour, a cheerfulness and
good humour, by which every one must be attracted, and prepossessed in
his favour.
When the old steward presented me to him as the monk, whose intended
arrival had been noticed by the Baroness, his looks, at first rather
doubtful and suspicious, became always more friendly, as, in the
meanwhile, Reinhold related how he had heard me preach in the Capuchin
Convent of Koenigswald, and had there convinced himself of my
extraordinary gifts of piety and eloquence.
"I know not, my dear Reinhold," said the Baron, "how, or for what
reason, the features of this reverend gentleman interest me so much at
our first meeting. They certainly awake some remembrance, which yet
struggles in vain to come clearly and fully into light."
It seemed to me, as if he would, in that very moment, break out with the
name "Count Victorin!"--In truth, however miraculous it may appear, I
had now become actually persuaded that I was the Count; and thereby
(aided perhaps by the wine at breakfast, not to speak of the draught
from the basket bottle,) I felt the circulation of the blood more
powerfully in every vein, and colouring my cheeks with a deeper crimson.
I depended, however, upon Reinhold, who indeed knew me as Brother
Medardus, though this now appeared to myself a mere fiction! Nothing
could untie or unravel those intricate knots, by which the strange web
of my destiny was thus bound together.
According to the Baron's wishes, I was immediately to make acquaintance
with Hermogen; but he was nowhere to be found. He had been seen
wandering towards the mountains; but the family were on that score quite
unconcerned, as he had frequently for days together absented himself in
that manner. Accordingly, through the whole afternoon, I remained in the
society of the Baron and Reinhold, and by degrees recollected myself so
completely, that towards evening I became quite calm, and courageous
enough to grapple with the wonderful events and difficulties which now
seemed to lie in wait for me.
In the solitude of the night, I opened the Count's portfolio, and
convinced myself more particularly that it was Count Victorin who had
been hurled into the abyss; yet the letters addressed to him were but
of indifferent import, and not one of them gave me any very clear
insight as to his real circumstances and condition in life.
Without, therefore, harassing my brain any farther about the matter, I
resolved to accommodate myself as skilfully as I could to whatever
course _chance_ might point out for me; especially, it was requisite
that I should wait the issue of my first interview with the mysterious
Euphemia.
* * * * *
On the very next day, the Baroness, with Aurelia, unexpectedly made her
appearance. I saw them alight from their carriage, and, received by the
Baron, entering the gates of the castle. Unnerved and disquieted, I
stepped restlessly up and down in my chamber, under a tempest of
extraordinary anticipations. This, however, did not continue long, ere I
was summoned down stairs.
The Baroness came forward to meet me. She was an eminently beautiful
woman, still in the full bloom of her charms. There was in her
countenance and _tout ensemble_ a voluptuous tranquillity, diversified
only by the restless gleam of her eyes, which were to an unparalleled
degree fiery and expressive.
As soon as she beheld me she seemed involuntarily to start, and betrayed
extraordinary emotion. Her voice faltered, she could scarcely command
words.
This visible embarrassment on her part gave me courage. I looked her
boldly in the face, and, in the conventual manner, gave her my blessing.
Hereupon she became all at once deadly pale, and was obliged to seat
herself on a sofa. Reinhold meanwhile looked on me as if quite
satisfied, and even with smiles of good humour.
At that moment the door opened, and the Baron entered with Aurelia.
As soon as I had set eyes on this girl, it seemed as if a gleam of light
from heaven flashed around me, and penetrated to my very heart, kindling
up mysterious and long-lost emotions--the most ardent longings--the
raptures of the most fervent love. All indeed that I had formerly felt
seemed only like obscure and shadowy indications of that which now
stepped forth at once into reality and life. Nay, life itself dawned for
the first time, glittering, variegated, and splendid before me, and all
that I had known before lay cold and dead, as if under the desolate
shadows of night.
It was she herself--the same mysterious unknown whom I had beheld in the
vision of the confessional. The melancholy, pious, childlike expression
of the dark blue eyes--the delicately formed lips--the neck gently bent
down, as if in devout prayer--the tall, slender, yet voluptuous form;
all these--they belonged not to Aurelia--it was herself, the blessed St
Rosalia! Even the minutest particulars of dress--for example, the
sky-blue shawl, which the young Baroness had now thrown over her
shoulders, was precisely the same worn by the saint in the picture, and
by the unknown of my vision.
What was now the luxuriant beauty of Euphemia compared with the divine
charms of this celestial visitant? Only _her, her_ alone could I behold,
while all around was faded into coldness and obscurity.
It was impossible that my inward emotion could escape the notice of the
by-standers.
"What is the matter with you, reverend sir?" said the Baron; "you seem
agitated in an extraordinary degree."--By these words I was directly
brought to myself, and I felt rising up within me a supernatural
power,--a courage till then unknown,--to encounter all obstacles, if
_she_--if _Aurelia_ were to be the prize to reward me for the combat.
"Rejoice, _Herr Baron_!" cried I, as if seized by a sudden fit of
inspiration--"rejoice, for a female saint is sent down from heaven among
us. The heavens, too, will soon be opened in cloudless serenity, and the
immaculate St Rosalia will diffuse blessings and consolation on the
devout souls who humbly and faithfully pay to her their homage and
adoration. Even now I hear the anthem,--the choral notes of glorified
spirits, who long for the society of the saint, and who, calling on her
in song, hover down from their resplendent thrones. I see her features,
beaming in the divine _halo_ of beatification, lifted up towards the
seraphic choir, that are already visible to her eyes. _Sancta Rosalia,
ora pro nobis!_"
Hereupon I fell on my knees, with mine eyes uplifted to heaven, my hands
folded in prayer, and all present mechanically followed my example. No
one ventured to question me any farther. This sudden ebullition was
imputed to some extraordinary inspiration, and the Baron gravely
resolved to have mass said at the altar of St Rosalia in the _residenz_.
In this manner I had completely rescued myself from my present
embarrassment; and I was resolved from henceforward to venture all
things, for Aurelia was at stake, who was now far dearer to me than
life.
The Baroness meanwhile appeared in a very strange and inexplicable mood.
Her looks followed me; but when I met them, quite composedly and
unconcerned, she averted her eyes, which then wandered about unsteadily
and wildly. As for Aurelia, I could only guess at her agitation; for she
had drawn down her veil, and gazed stedfastly on a cross which was hung
by a rosary from her neck. At last the family retired into another
chamber. I made use of the opportunity, and hastened down into the
garden, where, in a state of the wildest excitement, I rushed through
the walks, labouring with, and revolving a thousand resolutions, ideas,
and plans, for my future life in the castle.
* * * * *
Through this day I did not again meet Aurelia. It was already evening,
when Reinhold appeared, and said that the Baroness, who had been deeply
affected by my pious and inspired discourse of that morning, wished to
speak with me alone in her chamber.
* * * * *
When I had entered the room, and had, by her directions, closed and
bolted the door, she advanced a few steps towards me, then taking me by
both arms, and looking fixedly in my face, "Is it possible?" said
she--"art thou Medardus, the Capuchin monk?--But the voice--the
figure--your eyes--your hair,--speak, or I shall perish in this torment
of suspense and apprehension!"
"VICTORIN!" replied I, in a whisper; and again this word was not mine,
but suggested to me by some unknown and supernatural power;--then, to
my utter astonishment and consternation----
[There is a hiatus in the MS. at this place.]