Every word uttered by this judge had penetrated to my very heart, and I
was unable to subdue my vehement agitation. All the fictions that I had
invented seemed to me utterly absurd and insipid. That the chief person
who was to appear as my accuser, (and who was said to entertain such
fears of me if left at liberty,) was Aurelia, I could have no doubt. How
could I bear this, and how counteract her influence?
I considered afterwards what might have been suspicious among my
travelling effects, and was much vexed by the recollection, that since
my residence at the castle of the Baron von F----, I had retained in my
_portefeuille_, a hair ring, on which Euphemia's name was enwoven, and
which, perhaps, might be recognized by Aurelia. Besides, it had
unfortunately occurred, that in the forest I had bound up Victorin's
portmanteau with the knotted cord, which is part of the dress of our
order; and this had still remained in my possession.
Tormented by these thoughts, I gave myself up for lost; and unconscious
what I did, paced backwards and forwards in despair, through my narrow
chamber. Then it seemed as if there was a rushing and whispering in mine
ears,--"Thou fool," said a voice, "why should'st thou despair? Canst
thou not think on Victorin?" Hereupon, in a loud voice, I called
out--"Ha! the game is not lost!--Nay, it may yet be won!"
My heart beat, and my bosom heaved with new impulses. I had already
thought, that among Euphemia's papers there must, of necessity, be found
something which would point to Victorin's appearance at the castle as a
monk. Resting on this assumption, (or probability,) I would, at my next
examination, amplify on my former deposition as to the meeting with
Victorin; nay, why should I not also have met with the monk Medardus? I
could plead knowledge, also, of those adventures at the castle which
ended so frightfully, and repeat them as if they came to me by hearsay.
With such stories I could interweave references to myself, and to my
resemblance with both these people.
In order to attain my object, however, the most trifling circumstances
must be maturely weighed. I resolved, therefore, that I would commit to
writing the romance, by the incidents of which I was to be rescued. The
gaoler supplied me with the requisite materials, and I laboured with
great zeal till late in the night. In writing, my imagination was
roused, until I almost actually believed whatever I had set down to be
the truth; and I had in the closest manner spun together a web of
falsehood, wherewith I expected completely to blind the eyes of the
judge.
The prison-clock had struck twelve, when I again heard softly,
and as if from a distance, the knocking which, on the preceding day,
so much disturbed me. I had resolved that I would pay no attention
to this noise; but it approached nearer, and became louder. There
were again, at measured intervals, the same divertisements of
knocking, laughing, and groaning. I struck my hand with great vehemence
on the table--"Be quiet!" cried I--"Silence below there!" Thus I
thought that I should banish my persecutor, and recover my composure,
but in vain! On the contrary, there arose instantly a sound of
shrill discordant laughter, and once more the same detestable
voice--"_Brued-er-lein!--Brued-er-lein!_[2] Up to thee! Open the door!
Open the door!"
[Footnote 2: Little brother. One of the German diminutives of
familiarity or endearment.]
Then right under me commenced a vehement rasping and scratching in the
floor, accompanied by continuous groans and cachinnation. In vain did I
try to write, and persuading myself that these were but illusions of the
arch enemy, determined to hold them in contempt. The noise always became
more intolerable, and was diversified occasionally by ponderous blows,
so that I momentarily expected the gaolers to enter in alarm.
I had risen up, and was walking with the lamp in my hand, when suddenly
I felt the floor shake beneath my tread. I stepped aside, and then saw,
on the spot whereon I had stood, a stone lift itself out of the
pavement, and sink again. The phenomenon was repeated, but at the second
time I seized hold of the stone, and easily removed it from the
flooring.
The aperture beneath was but narrow, and little or no light rose from
the gulf. Suddenly, however, as I was gazing on it, a naked arm,
emaciated, but muscular, with a knife, or dagger, in the hand, was
stretched up towards me. Struck with the utmost horror, I recoiled from
the sight. Then the stammering voice spoke from below--"Brother--brother
Me-dar-dus is there--is there!--Take--take!--Break--break!--To the
wood!--To the wood!"
Instantly all fear and apprehension were lost. I repeated to myself,
"Take--take!--Break--break!" for I thought only of the assistance thus
offered me, and of flight! Accordingly I seized the weapon, which the
hand willingly resigned to me, and began zealously to clear away the
mortar and rubbish from the opening that had been made.
The spectral prisoner below laboured also with might and main, till we
had dislodged four or five large stones from the vault, and laid them
aside. I had been occupied in this latter purpose, that is, in placing
the large stones in a corner of my room, that they might not interrupt
my work; when, on turning round, I perceived that my horrible assistant
had raised his naked body as far as the middle, through the aperture
that we had made. The full glare of the lamp fell on his pale features,
which were no longer obscured as formerly, by long matted locks, or the
overgrown grizzly beard, for these had been closely shaven. It could no
longer be said that I was in vigorous health, while he was emaciated,
for in that respect we were now alike. He glared on me with the grin,
the ghastly laughter, of madness on his visage. At the first glance I
RECOGNIZED MYSELF, and losing all consciousness and self-possession,
fell in a deadly swoon on the pavement.
From this state of insensibility I was awoke by a violent pain in the
arm. There was a clear light around me; the rattling of chains, and
knocking of hammers, sounded through the vault. The gaoler and his
assistants were occupied in loading me with irons. Besides handcuffs and
ankle-fetters, I was, by means of a chain and an iron hoop, to be
fastened to the wall.
"Now," said the gaoler, in a satisfied tone, when the workmen had
finished, "the gentleman will probably find it advisable to give over
troubling us with his attempts to escape for the future!"
"But what crimes, then," said the blacksmith, in an under tone, "has
this obstreperous fellow committed?"
"How?" said the gaoler, "dost thou not know that much, Jonathan? The
whole town talks of nothing else. He is a cursed Capuchin monk, who has
murdered three men. All has been fully proved. In a few days there is to
be a grand gala; and among other diversions, the scaffold and the wheel
will not fail to play their part!"
I heard no more, and my senses were again lost. I know not how long I
remained in that state, from which I only painfully and with difficulty
awoke. I was alone, and all was utter darkness; but, after some
interval, faint gleams of daylight broke into the low deep vault,
scarcely six feet square, into which I now, with the utmost horror,
perceived that I had been removed from my former prison. I was tormented
with extreme thirst, and grappled at the water-jug which stood near me.
Cold and moist, it slipped out of my numbed hands before I had gained
from it even one imperfect draught, and, with abhorrence, I saw a large
overgrown toad crawl out of it as it lay on the floor. "Aurelia!" I
groaned, in that feeling of nameless misery into which I was now
sunk--"Aurelia!--and was it for this that I have been guilty of
hypocrisy and abominable falsehood in the court of justice--for this
only, that I might protract, by a few hours, a life of torment and
misery? What would'st thou," said I to myself, "delirious wretch, as
thou art? Thou strivest after the possession of Aurelia, who could be
thine only through an abominable and blasphemous crime; and however thou
might'st disguise thyself from the world, she would infallibly recognize
in thee the accursed murderer of Hermogen, and look on thee with
detestation. Miserable deluded fool, where are now all thy high-flown
projects, thy belief and confidence in thine own supernatural power, by
which thou could'st guide thy destiny even as thou wilt? Thou art wholly
unable and powerless to kill the worm of conscience, which gnaws on the
heart's marrow, and thou wilt shamefully perish in hopeless grief, even
if the arm of temporal justice should spare thee!"
Thus I complained aloud, but at the moment when I uttered these words, I
felt a painful pressure on my breast, which seemed to proceed from some
hard substance in my waistcoat pocket. I grappled with it accordingly,
and drew out, to my surprise, a small stiletto. Never had I worn any
such implement since I had been in the prison. It must, of necessity, be
the same which had been held up to me by my mysterious _double_. I
recognized the glittering heft. It was the identical stiletto with which
I had killed Hermogen, and which, for many weeks, I had been without!
Hereupon there arose in my mind an entire revolution. The inexplicable
manner in which this weapon had been returned to me, seemed like a
warning from supernatural agents. I had it in my power to escape at will
from the ignominious death that awaited me. I had it in my power to die
voluntarily for the sake of Aurelia. It seemed again as if there was a
rushing and whispering of voices around me; and among them Aurelia's
accents were clearly audible. I beheld her as when formerly she appeared
to me in the church of the Capuchin Convent. "I love thee, indeed,
Medardus," said she; "but hitherto thou understandest me not. In this
world there is for us no hope of enjoyment; the true festival and
solemnization of our love is--death." I now firmly resolved that I would
demand a new audience--that I would confess to the judge, without the
least reserve, the whole history of my wanderings, after which I would,
in obedience to the supposed warning, have recourse to suicide.
The gaoler now made his appearance, bringing me better food than usual,
with the addition of a bottle of wine. "It is by the command of the
Prince," said he, covering a table which his servant brought in after
him. He then proceeded to unlock the chain by which I was bound to the
wall.
Remaining firm in my determination, I took but little notice of this,
and earnestly requested that he would communicate to the judge my wish
for an audience that very afternoon, as I had much to disclose that lay
heavy on my conscience. He promised to fulfil my commission, and
retired.
Meanwhile, I waited in vain to be summoned to my trial. No one appeared
until such time as it was quite dark, when the gaoler's servant entered
and lighted my lamp as usual. Owing to the fixed resolution which I had
adopted, I felt much more tranquil than before; and, as the night wore
on, being greatly exhausted, I fell into a deep sleep.
My slumber was haunted, however, by a strange and very vivid dream.
Methought I was led into a high, gloomy, and vaulted hall, wherein I
saw, ranged along the walls, on high-backed chairs, a double row of
spectral figures, like clergymen, all habited in the black _talar_,[3]
and before them was a table covered with red cloth. At their head sat a
judge, and near him was a Dominican friar, in the full habit of his
order.
[Footnote 3: Long black robe.]
"Thou art now," said the judge, in a deep solemn voice, "given over to
the spiritual court; forasmuch as thou, obstinate and criminal as thou
art, hast attempted to deny thy real name, and the sacred profession to
which thou belongest. Franciscus, or, according to thy conventual name,
Medardus, answer, Dost thou plead guilty, or not guilty, to the crimes
of which thou hast been accused?"
Hereupon I wished to confess all that I had done, which, in my own
estimation, was sinful or blame-worthy. But, to my great horror, that
which I uttered was not the thoughts that existed in my mind, and which
I intended to deliver. On the contrary, instead of a sincere and
repentant confession, I lost myself in wandering desultory gibberish,
which sounded even in my own ears quite unpardonable.
Then the Dominican rose up, and, with a frightful menacing
look--"Away--to the rack with him," cried he, "the stiff-necked obdurate
sinner--to the rack with him--he deserves no mercy!" The strange figures
that were ranged along the wall rose up, stretched out their long
skeleton arms towards me, and repeated, in a hoarse horrible
unison--"Ay, ay!--to the rack with him--to the rack--to the rack!"
Instantly I drew out my stiletto and aimed it violently towards my
heart, but, involuntarily, it slid upwards to my throat, and striking on
that part wherein the diamond necklace of the Abbess had left the sign
of the cross, the blade broke in pieces as if it were made of glass, and
left me unwounded! Then the executioner seized me, removed me from the
audience-hall, and dragged me down into a deep subterranean vault.
_There_, however, my persecutions did not cease. The man once more
demanded of me whether I would not make a true confession? Accordingly,
I again made an attempt to do so, but my thoughts and words, as before,
were at variance. Deeply repentant, torn equally by shame and remorse,
I confessed all inwardly and in spirit; but whatever my lips brought
forth audibly, was confused, senseless, unconnected, and foreign from
the dictates of my heart. Hereafter, upon a sign received from the
Dominican, the executioner stripped me naked, and tied my wrists
together behind my back. How he placed me afterwards, I know not, but I
heard the creaking of screws and pulleys, and felt how my stretched
joints cracked, and were ready to break asunder. In the agony of
superhuman torture, I screamed loudly and awoke.
The pain in my hands and feet continued as if I had been really on the
rack, but this proceeded from the heavy chains which I still carried;
yet, besides this, I found a strange pressure on my eye-lids, which, for
some time, I was unable to lift up. At last, it seemed as if a weight
were taken from my forehead, and I was able to raise myself on my couch.
Here my nightly visions once more stepped forth into reality, and I felt
an ice-cold shivering through every vein. Motionless like a statue, with
his arms folded, the monk--the Dominican whom I had seen in my
dream--stood there, and glared on me with his hollow black eyes. In
that look, I at once recognized the expression of the horrible painter,
and fell, half fainting, back upon my straw-bed.
Yet, perhaps, thought I to myself, all this was but a delusion of my
senses, which had its origin from a dream. I mustered courage,
therefore--but the monk was there! He stood, as the painter had ever
done, calm and motionless, with his relentless dark eyes fixed upon me.
"Horrible man!" cried I, "Avaunt!--Away!--But no! Man thou art not. Thou
art the devil himself, who labours to drag me into everlasting
destruction!--Away!--I conjure thee, in the name of God, begone!"
"Poor, short-sighted fool!" answered the Dominican, "I am not the fiend
who endeavours to bind thee with his iron fetters; who seeks to turn thy
heart from those sacred duties to which thou hast, by Divine Providence,
been appointed!--Medardus, poor insane wanderer! I have indeed appeared
frightful to thee, even at those moments when thou should'st have
recognized in me thy best friend--when thou wert tottering within a
hair's-breadth of being hurled into the eternal gulf of destruction, I
have appeared and warned thee; but my designs have ever been perverted
and misunderstood. Rise up, and listen to what I would now say!"
The Dominican uttered this in a tone of deep melancholy and complaint.
His looks, which I had before contemplated with such affright, were
become relaxed and mild. My heart was roused by new and indescribable
emotions. This painter, who had haunted me like a demon, now appeared to
me almost like a special messenger of Providence, sent to console me in
my extreme misery and despair.
I rose from my bed, and stepped towards him. It was no phantom! I
touched his garments. I kneeled down involuntarily, and he laid his hand
on my head as if to bless me. Then, in the brightest colouring of
imagination, a long train of beautiful and cherished images rose on my
mind. I was once more within the consecrated woods of the Holy
Lime-Tree. I stood on the self-same spot of that favourite grove, where
the strangely-dressed pilgrim brought to me the miraculous boy. From
hence I wished to move onwards to the church, which I saw also right
before me. There only it appeared to me, that I might now, penitent and
repentant, receive at last absolution of my heavy crimes. But I remained
motionless; my limbs were powerless, and I could scarcely retain the
feeling of self-identity.--Then a hollow voice pronounced the words,
"The will suffices for the deed!"
The dream vanished. It was the painter who had spoken these words.
"Incomprehensible being!" said I, "was it then thou, who art here with
me as a friend, who appeared leaning on the pillar on that unhappy
morning in the Capuchin church at Koenigswald? At night, in the trading
town of Frankenburg? And now----"
"Stop there," said the painter; "it was I indeed who have been at all
times near to thee, in order, if possible, to rescue thee from
destruction and disgrace; but thy heart was hardened; thy senses were
perverted. The work to which thou wert chosen, must, for thine own weal
and salvation, be fulfilled."
"Alas!" cried I, in a voice of despair, "why, then, didst thou not
withhold mine arm from that accursed deed, when Hermogen----"
"That was not allowed me," said the painter. "Ask no farther. The
attempt to resist the eternal decrees of Omnipotence is not only sinful,
but hopeless presumption. Medardus, thou now drawest near to thy
appointed goal--_To-morrow_!"
At these words I shuddered; for I thought that I completely understood
the painter. I believed that he knew and approved my premeditated
suicide. He now retreated towards the door of my prison.--"When," said
I, with great earnestness, "when shall I see you again?"--"AT THE GOAL,"
said he, in a deep, solemn tone, that reverberated through the
vault.--"So then--_to-morrow_?" He would not answer. The door
opened--turned silently on its hinges--and the painter had vanished.