“You will recollect, my Lord, that I told you the _Unknown_, had given
up all hope of seducing your servant; and yet he stood in need of a man
who enjoyed your confidence, in order to be informed by him of all your
actions, wishes and sentiments, and to govern you at his pleasure by his
assistance, without your perceiving it. The Count offered to attempt to
get acquainted with you. In order to deceive the keen-sightedness of
your tutor, who was a principal obstacle to the execution of his
designs, he pretended to join with him in his hatred against the
_Unknown_, whom he declared to be an impostor, and thus made your
governor believe that he was an unprejudiced honest man. For that very
reason he persisted in his declaration, accepted your challenge, and
produced the letter by which Amelia had informed him of the particulars
of her recovery, and proved my letter to be a forgery. He even accused
the _Unknown_ of acting in concert with me, with the view to remove the
most distant suspicion of being connected with either of us. The Count
would certainly not have hazarded to push matters so far, if he had not
foreseen that a scene like that which I acted in the wood near
****n would retrieve every thing, and clear the _Unknown_ of the
suspicion of having acted in concert with me. The event has proved that
he had not been mistaken, and now he thought it seasonable to change the
scene. Till then the Count had appeared to counteract him, though he had
rendered him the most important services; but now, thinking to have
gained a firm footing in your confidence, he began to declare openly for
the _Unknown_. He could easily foresee what a seducing effect this
seeming change of opinion would have upon you. For it was natural you
should conceive the idea, that the unfavourable prejudice which the
Count had manifested against the _Unknown_, had been conquered by the
reality and greatness of his miracles; and supposing this, you could not
but think to have an additional motive for yielding without reserve to
the sublime notion of the power of the _Unknown_, which you till then
frequently had entertained reluctantly. However the Count could not
change his tone before the _Unknown_ appeared justified, as well in his
as in your opinion, if he would not expose himself to the danger of
exciting your suspicion, and for that reason the farce in the wood near
***n was acted.”
“I comprehend you!” said I, grinding my teeth with anger. “But what of
the farce?”
“It was partly of my, and partly of the Count’s invention. I had kept
myself concealed in the wood of ****n, some days previous to that farce,
and carefully consulted with the Count, what I should do and say in your
presence. We fixed on purpose on an evening on which we had just reason
to expect a thunder storm, in order to give the whole scene more
solemnity. We chose an unfrequented, solitary spot of the wood, for the
scene of action, where I disguised myself in the ruins of an old house,
and awaited your arrival without being observed. I painted my face with
a light yellow, and my feet with a red colour, and rushed from my ambush
with loud screams, as soon as I saw you at a distance.”
“You dropped senseless to the ground, and behaved like a maniac; what
view had you by doing so?”
“I only wanted to strengthen the impression of my tale.”
“You pretended to see the _Unknown_; was he really not far off, or did
you only deceive me?”
“It was mere deception, for he was then many miles distant from ****n.”
“But what you told me of the hermit was true? or was it also a
preconcerted tale?”
He was prevented from returning an answer by a sudden fainting fit,
which probably was the consequence of his having talked too much. I rang
the bell for the nurse and retired with the intention of hearing the
next morning the continuation of Paleski’s confession. A nameless
sensation thrilled my whole frame when I went home. I wished and dreaded
to find the Count at our hotel, being enraptured at the idea of treating
the unmasked impostor with that humiliating contempt which he so well
deserved; but shuddering at the thirst for revenge which I felt in my
bosom, and that animated me to take a satisfaction against which my good
genius warned me. However, to my and his fortune, he was not at home. He
had, as Pietro told me, taken some papers out of his trunk, during my
absence and left the house suddenly. The evening and the night passed
without his being returned, and he was not come back in the morning when
I went to the hospital.
I entered Paleski’s apartment, burning with impatience to hear his
farther discoveries. But alas! he was on the brink of eternity, and died
a few minutes after my arrival.
I would have given worlds if I could have prolonged the life of this man
only for a few hours. His relation had thrown a light only over a part
of my mysterious history, and a far greater part was still surrounded
with impenetrable darkness. I have never been so sensible how much more
painful half satisfied curiosity is, than utter ignorance or the most
dreadful certainty. How much did I now repent that I had not
interrogated Paleski the day before, on the fate of my tutor, Amelia’s
sentiments for me and her abode. The _Unknown_ had indeed given me very
flattering hopes, with regard to these dear people; however, what
reliance could I have on the promises of an impostor? Entirely left to
myself, I was obliged to leave it to some fortunate accident, or to his
generosity, whether I ever should have the happiness of meeting them
again? Frail hope! and yet it was my only support in my friendless,
distressing situation, the only prop on which I could lean. Being in a
world to which I was almost an utter stranger, without a friend or
guide, surrounded with the invisible snares of two impostors, threatened
by an uncertain and gloomy futurity, I readily gave myself up to the
sweet ideas of possibility, in order to console myself for the
melancholy reality.
Two days were now elapsed, and the Count was not yet returned, which
confirmed my apprehensions that he had fled. A look at his trunk
suggested a thought to me which I could not shake off; the consequence
was that I opened it with a master-key, with an intention to search
whether I could not find some papers, which would throw a light upon
several dark parts of my history.
(_To be continued._)
* * * * *
* * * *
_For the +New-York Weekly Magazine+._
* * *