This morning I awoke almost well, and towards evening was able to
appear below. Lady Gwyn had invited several of her friends; so that I
passed a delightful afternoon; the charm, admiration, and astonishment
of all.
When I retired to rest, I found this note on my toilette.
_To the Lady Cherubina_.
_Your mother lives!_ and is confined in a subterranean vault of the
villa. At midnight two men will tap at your door, and conduct you to
her. Be silent, courageous, and circumspect.
What a flood of new feelings gushed upon my soul, as I laid down the
billet, and lifted my filial eyes to Heaven! Mother--endearing name! I
pictured that unfortunate lady stretched on a mattress of straw, her
eyes sunken in their sockets, yet retaining a portion of their
youthful fire; her frame emaciated, her voice feeble, her hand damp
and chill. Fondly did I depict our meeting--our embrace; she gently
pushing me from her, and baring my forehead, to gaze on the lineaments
of my countenance. All, all is convincing; and she calls me the
softened image of my noble father!
Two tedious hours I waited in extreme anxiety. At length the clock
struck twelve; my heart beat responsive, and immediately the promised
signal was made. I unbolted the door, and beheld two men masked and
cloaked. They blindfolded me, and each taking an arm, led me along.
Not a word passed. We traversed apartments, ascended, descended
stairs; now went this way, now that; obliquely, circularly, angularly;
till I began to imagine we were all the time in one spot.
At length my conductors stopped.
'Unlock the postern gate,' whispered one, 'while I light a torch.'
'We are betrayed!' said the other, 'for this is the wrong key.'
'Then thou beest the traitor,' cried the first.
'Thou liest, dost lie, and art lying!' cried the second.
'Take that!' exclaimed the first. A groan followed, and the wretch
tumbled to the ground.
'You have killed him!' cried I, sickening with horror.
'I have only hamstrung him, my Lady,' said the fellow. 'He will be
lame while ever he lives; but by St. Cripplegate, that won't be long;
for our captain has given him four ducats to murder himself in a
month.'
He then burst open the gate; a sudden current of wind met us, and we
hurried forward with incredible speed, while moans and smothered
shrieks were heard at either side.
'Gracious goodness, where are we?' cried I.
'In the cavern of death!' said my conductor; 'but never fear, Signora
mia illustrissima, for the bravo Abellino is your povero devotissimo.'
On a sudden innumerable footsteps sounded behind us. We ran swifter.
'Fire!' cried a ferocious accent, almost at my ear; and there came a
discharge of arms.