In the meantime, Ugo, who had received orders from Zastrozzi not to
allow Verezzi to die, came at the accustomed hour to bring provisions,
but finding that, in the last night’s storm, the rock had been struck
by lightning, concluded that Verezzi had lost his life amid the
ruins, and he went with this news to Zastrozzi. Zastrozzi, who, for
inexplicable reasons, wished not Verezzi’s death, sent Ugo and Bernardo
to search for him.
After a long scrutiny they discovered their hapless victim. He was
chained to the rock where they had left him, but in that exhausted
condition which want of food and a violent fever had reduced him to.
They unchained him, and lifting him into a chariot, after four hours’
rapid travelling, brought the insensible Verezzi to a cottage,
inhabited by an old woman alone. The cottage stood on an immense heath,
lonely, desolate, and remote from other human habitation.
Zastrozzi waited their arrival with impatience. Eagerly he flew to meet
them, and, with a demoniac smile, surveyed the agonised features of his
prey, who lay insensible and stretched on the shoulders of Ugo.
“His life must not be lost,” exclaimed Zastrozzi; “I have need of it.
Tell Bianca, therefore, to prepare a bed.”
Ugo obeyed, and Bernardo followed, bearing the emaciated Verezzi. A
physician was sent for, who declared that the crisis of the fever which
had attacked him being past, proper care might reinstate him; but that
the disorder having attacked his brain, a tranquillity of mind was
absolutely necessary for his recovery.
Zastrozzi, to whom the life, though not the happiness of Verezzi was
requisite, saw that his too eager desire for revenge had carried
him beyond his point. He saw that some deception was requisite; he
accordingly instructed the old woman to inform him, when he recovered,
that he was placed in this situation because the physician had asserted
that the air of this country was necessary for a recovery from a brain
fever which attacked him.
It was long before Verezzi recovered--long did he languish in torpid
insensibility, during which his soul seemed to have winged its way to
happier regions.
At last, however, he recovered, and the first use he made of his senses
was to inquire where he was.
The old woman told him the story which she had been instructed in by
Zastrozzi.
“Who ordered me to be chained in that desolate and dark cavern?”
inquired Verezzi, “where I have been for many years, and suffered most
insupportable torments?”
“Lord bless me!” said the old woman; “why, baron, how strangely you
talk! I begin to fear you will again lose your senses, at the very time
you ought to be thanking God for suffering them to return to you. What
can you mean by being chained in a cavern? I declare I am frightened at
the very thought; pray do compose yourself.”
Verezzi was much perplexed by the old woman’s assertions. That Julia
should send him to a mean cottage, and desert him, was impossible.
The old woman’s relation seemed so well connected, and told with such
an air of characteristic simplicity, that he could not disbelieve her.
But to doubt the evidence of his own senses, and the strong proofs of
his imprisonment, which the deep marks of the chains had left till now,
was impossible.
Had not those marks remained, he would have conceived the horrible
events which had led him thither to have been but the dreams of his
perturbed imagination. He, however, thought it better to yield, since,
as Ugo and Bernardo attended him in the short walks he was able to
take, an escape was impossible, and its attempt would but make his
situation more unpleasant.
He often expressed a wish to write to Julia, but the old woman said
she had orders neither to permit him to write nor receive letters--on
pretence of not agitating his mind--and, to avoid the consequences of
despair, knives were denied him.
As Verezzi recovered, and his mind obtained that firm tone which it was
wont to possess, he perceived that it was but a device of his enemies
that detained him at the cottage, and his whole thoughts were now bent
upon the means for effecting his escape.
It was late one evening, when, tempted by the peculiar beauty of the
weather, Verezzi wandered beyond the usual limits, attended by Ugo
and Bernardo, who narrowly watched his every movement. Immersed in
thought, he wandered onwards, till he came to a woody eminence, whose
beauty tempted him to rest a little, in a seat carved in the side of an
ancient oak. Forgetful of his unhappy and dependent situation, he sat
there some time, until Ugo told him that it was time to return.
In their absence Zastrozzi had arrived at the cottage. He had
impatiently inquired for Verezzi.
“It is the baron’s custom to walk every evening,” said Bianca; “I soon
expect him to return.”
Verezzi at last arrived.
Not knowing Zastrozzi as he entered, he started back, overcome by the
likeness he bore to one of the men he had seen in the cavern.
He was now convinced that all the sufferings he had undergone in that
horrible abode of misery were not imaginary, and that he was at this
instant in the power of his bitterest enemy.
Zastrozzi’s eyes were fixed on him with an expression too manifest to
be misunderstood; and, with an air in which he struggled to disguise
the natural malevolence of his heart, he said, that he hoped Verezzi’s
health had not suffered from the evening air.
Enraged beyond measure at this hypocrisy, from a man whom he now no
longer doubted to be the cause of all his misfortunes, he could not
forbear inquiring for what purpose he had conveyed him hither, and told
him instantly to release him.
Zastrozzi’s cheeks turned pale with passion, his lips quivered, his
eyes darted revengeful glances, as thus he spoke:--
“Retire to your chamber, young fool, which is the fittest place for you
to reflect on, and repent of, the insolence shown to one so much your
superior.”
“I fear nothing,” interrupted Verezzi, “from your vain threats and
empty denunciations of vengeance. Justice--Heaven! is on my side, and I
must eventually triumph.”
What can be a greater proof of the superiority of virtue, than that
the terrible, the dauntless Zastrozzi trembled? for he did tremble;
and, conquered by the emotions of the moment, paced the circumscribed
apartment with unequal steps. For an instant he shrunk within himself;
he thought of his past life, and his awakened conscience reflected
images of horror. But again revenge drowned the voice of virtue--again
passion obscured the light of reason, and his steeled soul persisted in
its scheme.
Whilst he still thought, Ugo entered. Zastrozzi, smothering his
stinging conscience, told Ugo to follow him to the heath. Ugo obeyed.