Fernand was now at a loss how to act. He felt convinced that it was
useless to institute any further inquiries relative to the whereabouts
of the secret Order of the Rosy Cross; because, had popular rumor ever
hinted at any clew in that respect, the garrulous and inquisitive barber
would have been sure to hear of it. He was not, however, disheartened.
No--very far from that; for he was confident that the same supernal
power that had hitherto directed him, and which was rapidly clearing
away all obstacles in his path toward perfect emancipation from the
influence of the evil one, would carry him to a successful and
triumphant issue. Throwing himself, therefore, entirely on the wisdom
and mercy of Heaven, he roamed about the town of Syracuse, without any
settled object in view, until he was much wearied and it was very late.
He then entered a miserable hostel, or inn--the best, however, that he
could discover; and there, having partaken of some refreshment, he
retired to the chamber allotted to him. Sleep soon visited his eyes; but
he had not long enjoyed the sweets of slumber, when that balmy repose
was interrupted either by a touch or sound, he knew not which. Starting
up in his couch, he perceived a tall figure, muffled in a huge dark
mantle, and wearing a slouched broad-brimmed hat, standing by the side
of the bed.
"Rise, Fernand Wagner," said a mild but masculine voice, "and follow me.
He whom thou seekest has sent me to lead thee to him."
Wagner did not hesitate to obey this mandate, which he felt certain was
connected with the important business that had borne him to Syracuse.
His apparel was speedily assumed; and he said, "I am ready to follow
thee, stranger, whoever thou art, and whithersoever thou mayst lead; for
my faith is in Heaven."
"Those who have faith shall prosper," observed the stranger, in a solemn
tone.
He then led the way noiselessly down the steep staircase of the inn, and
issued forth by the front gate, closely followed by Wagner. In deep
silence did they proceed through the dark, narrow, and tortuous streets,
leaving at length the town behind them, and then entering upon a barren
and uneven waste. By degrees an object, at first dimly seen in the
distance, and by the uncertain moonlight, which was constantly
struggling with the dark clouds of a somewhat tempestuous night, assumed
a more defined appearance, until a mass of gigantic ruins at length
stood out from the somber obscurity. In a few moments the moon shone
forth purely and brightly; and its beams, falling on decayed buttresses,
broken Gothic arches, deep entrance-ways, remnants of pinnacles and
spires, massive walls of ruined towers, gave a wildly romantic and yet
not unpicturesque aspect to the remains of what was evidently once a
vast monastic institution. The muffled stranger led the way amongst the
ruins, and at last stopped at a gate opening into a small square
inclosure formed by strong iron railings, seven feet high and shaped at
the points like javelins. Passing through the gateway, the guide
conducted Wagner into a cemetery, which was filled with the marble tombs
of the mitered abbots who had once held sway over the monastery and the
broad lands attached to it.
"You behold around you," said the muffled stranger, waving his arm
toward the ruins, "all that remains of a sanctuary once the most
celebrated in Sicily for the piety and wisdom of its inmates. But a
horrible crime, a murder perpetrated under circumstances unusually
diabolical, the criminal being no less a person than the last lord abbot
himself, and the victim a beauteous girl whom he had seduced, rendered
this institution accursed in the eyes of God and man. The monks
abandoned it: and the waste over which you have passed is now the
unclaimed but once fertile estate belonging to the abbey. The
superstition of the Sicilians has not failed to invent terrific tales in
connection with these ruins: and the belief that each night at twelve
o'clock the soul of the guilty abbot is driven by the scourge of the
demon through the scene alike of his episcopal power and his black
turpitude, effectually prevents impertinent or inconvenient intrusion."
The observation with which the muffled stranger concluded his brief
narrative, convinced Wagner that it was amongst those ruins the brethren
of the Rosy Cross had fixed their secret abode. But he had no time for
reflection, inasmuch as his guide hurried him on amidst the tombs, on
which the light of the silver moon now streamed with a power and an
effect that no dark cloud for the time impaired. Stopping at the base of
one of the most splendid monuments in the cemetery, the muffled stranger
touched some secret spring, and a large marble block immediately opened
like a door, the aperture revealing a narrow flight of stone steps.
Wagner was directed to descend first, a command which he obeyed without
hesitation, his guide closing the marble entrance ere he followed. For
several minutes the two descended in total darkness. At length, a faint,
glimmering light met Wagner's view; and as he proceeded it grew stronger
and stronger, until it became of such dazzling brilliancy that his eyes
ached with the supernatural splendor. That glorious luster was diffused
from a silver lamp, hanging to the arched roof of a long passage, or
corridor of masonry, to which the stone steps led.
"Fernand Wagner," said the guide, in his mild and somewhat monotonous
voice, "thou now beholdest the eternal lamp of the Rosicrucians. For a
hundred and twenty years has that lamp burnt with as powerful a luster
as that which it now sheds forth; and never once--no, not once during
that period, has it been replenished. No human hand has touched it since
the day when it was first suspended there by the great founder of our
sect."
All doubt was now dispelled from the mind of Wagner--if a doubt he had
even for a moment entertained since the muffled stranger had summoned
him from the inn:--he was indeed in the secret abode of the holy sect of
the Rosy Cross! His guide, too, was a member of that brotherhood--and
there, almost too dazzling to gaze upon, burnt the eternal lamp which
was the symbol of the knowledge cherished by the order! Wagner turned to
gaze in wonder and admiration upon his guide: and beneath the broad brim
of the slouched hat, he beheld a countenance venerable with years,
imposing with intelligence, and benevolent with every human charity.
"Wise and philanthropic Rosicrucian!" exclaimed Wagner, "I offer thee my
deepest gratitude for having permitted me to enter this sanctuary. But
how camest thou to learn that I sought admittance hither? and unveil to
me the great mysteries of this place."
"We are the servants of holy angels, who reveal to us in visions the
will of the Most High," answered the Rosicrucian; "and they who
commanded me to bring thee hither, will induce thine heart to retain our
secret inviolable."
"Not for worlds," cried Wagner, with an enthusiasm which denoted
sincerity, "would I betray ye!"
"'Tis well," said the Rosicrucian, with philosophic calmness--as if he
put more faith in the protecting influence of Heaven than in the
promises of man. "I shall not accompany thee further. Follow that
passage: at the extremity there are two corridors branching off in
different directions; but thou wilt pursue the one leading to the right.
Proceed fearlessly, and stop not till thou shalt stand in the presence
of the founder of the sect."
Fernand hastened to obey these directions, and having threaded the two
passages, he entered a large and rudely-hollowed cavern, where the
feelings of mingled awe and suspense with which he had approached it
were immediately changed into deep veneration and wonder as he found
himself in the presence of one who, by his appearance, he knew could he
none other than Christianus Rosencrux! Never had Fernand beheld a being
of such venerable aspect; and, though old--evidently very old, as indeed
Wagner knew him to be--yet the founder of the celebrated Rosicrucians
manifested every appearance of possessing a vigorous constitution, as he
was assuredly endowed with a magnificent intellect. His beard was long
and white as snow; a century and three score years had not dimmed the
luster of his eyes; and his form, though somewhat bent, was masculine
and well-knit. He was seated at a table covered with an infinite variety
of scientific apparatus; and articles of the same nature were strewed
upon the ground. To the roof hung an iron lamp, which indeed burnt
faintly after the brilliant luster of the eternal flame that Wagner had
seen in the passage; but its flickering gleam shone lurid and ominous on
a blood-red cross suspended to the wall. Fernand drew near the table,
and bowed reverentially to the Rosicrucian chief, who acknowledged his
salutation with a benignant smile.
"Wagner," he said, in a firm but mild tone, "I have been forewarned of
thy coming, and am prepared to receive thee. Thy constant and unvarying
faith in Heaven has opened to thee the gates of salvation; and it is
mine to direct thee how to act, that the dreadful doom which thou hast
drawn upon thyself may be annihilated soon and forever."
The venerable man paused, and Fernand again bowed lowly and with
profound respect.
"So soon as the morning's sun shall have revisited this hemisphere,"
continued Rosencrux, "thou must depart for Italy. Start not,
Fernand--but prepare to obey that power which will sustain thee. On
arriving in Italy, proceed direct to Florence; and fear not to enter
that city even in the broad daylight. Thou wilt not be harmed! There
await the current of those circumstances that must lead to the grand
event which is ordained to break the spell that has cast upon thee the
doom of a Wehr-Wolf. For as thou didst voluntarily unite thyself in the
face of heaven with Donna Nisida of Riverola, so it is decreed, for the
wisest purposes, that a circumstance intimately connected with her
destiny must become a charm and a talisman to change thine own. On thine
arrival in Florence, therefore, seek not to avoid Lady Nisida; but
rather hasten at once to her presence--and again I say, a supernal power
will protect thee from any baneful influence which she might still
exercise over thee. For, the spell that the evil one hath cast upon
thee, Fernand Wagner, shall be broken only on that day and in that hour
when thine eyes shall behold the skeletons of two innocent victims
suspended to the same beam!"
Having uttered these words in a louder and hurried, but not the less
impressive tone, than he had at first used, Christianus Rosencrux
motioned impatiently for Wagner to depart. And Fernand, amazed and
horrified at the dreadful words which had met his ears, retreated from
the cavern and sped rapidly back to the spot where he had quitted his
guide, whom he found waiting his return beneath the undying lamp. The
Rosicrucian conducted Wagner in silence from that deep and subterranean
abode beneath the tomb; thence through the cemetery amidst the ruins of
the monastery--and across the wild waste, back to Syracuse; nor did the
muffled brother of the Rosy Cross take leave of Fernand until they had
reached the door of the hostel. There they parted, the Rosicrucian
invoking a blessing upon the head of Wagner, who regained his chamber
without disturbing the other inmates of the house: but with the
conflicting emotions of ardent hopes and appalling fears, and holy
aspirations, filling his breast. By degrees, however, as he was enabled
to reason to himself with increasing calmness, the fears and the doubts
became fainter and fainter, while the hopes and the aspirations grew
stronger and stronger: and at length, throwing himself upon his knees,
he exclaimed fervently, "O Lord, deal with me as thou wilt--thy will be
done!"
It was late in the afternoon of a sultry day, toward the close of
September, or, to be more particular, on the 25th of that month, that a
numerous and brilliant cavalcade, on emerging from a grove which bounded
one of the sinuosities of the Arno, came within sight of the towers and
pinnacles of Florence.
On the white felt turbans of a hundred and fifty Ottoman soldiers
glistened the crescent, the symbol of Islamism; and their steel-sheathed
scimiters and the trappings of their horses sent forth a martial din as
they were agitated by the rapidity of the march.
Forty-eight slaves, also mounted on steeds procured at Leghorn, followed
the soldiers with a short interval between the two corps, and in the
space thus left, rode the Greek Demetrius and Lady Nisida of Riverola.
The latter wore the garb of her sex, and sat upon her horse with the
grace of an amazonian queen.
The moment the cavalcade came in sight of the fair City of Flowers, a
flush of joy and triumph suddenly diffused itself over Nisida's
countenance; and her lips were simultaneously compressed to prevent the
utterance of that exclamation of gladness which her heart sent up to her
tongue.
Demetrius now commanded a temporary halt; addressing himself to a
Turkish youth, who had been attached to his person in the capacity of
secretary, he said, "Yakoub, hie thou in advance, with an escort of two
soldiers and two slaves, and push on to Florence. There seek an
immediate interview with the president of the council of state, and
acquaint that high functionary with the tidings of my approach. Thou
wilt inform him that I am about to enter Florence in the peaceful
capacity of envoy from the puissant and most glorious Ibrahim Pasha, the
vizier of the sultan, to treat on divers matters interesting to the
honor of the Ottoman Porte and the welfare of all Italy. In the
meantime, I shall so check our speed that we may not reach the city
until after sunset, which arrangement will afford you two full hours to
accomplish the mission which I now trust to thee."
Yakoub bowed, and hastened to obey the commands which he had
received--speeding toward Florence, attended by two soldiers and two
slaves. Demetrius then ordered his party to dismount and rest for a
short space upon the banks of the Arno. Some of his slaves immediately
pitched a tent, into which he conducted Nisida; and refreshments were
served to them.
When the repast was concluded, and they were left alone together for a
few minutes, Nisida's manner suddenly changed from calm patrician
reserve to a strange agitation--her lips quivered, her eyes flashed
fire;--and then, as if desperately resolved to put into execution the
idea which she had formed, she seized Demetrius by the hand, bent her
head toward him, and murmured in the faintest whisper possible, "Start
not to hear the sound of my voice! I am neither deaf nor dumb. But this
is not the place for explanations. I have much to tell, you much to
hear--for I can speak to thee of Calanthe, and prove that he whom thou
servest so zealously is a wretch meriting only thy vengeance."
"My God! my God!--what marvels are now taking place!" murmured the
Greek, surveying Nisida in profound astonishment not unmingled with
alarm.
"Silence--silence, I implore you!" continued she, in the rapid, low, and
yet distinctly audible whisper, "for _your_ sake--for _mine_, betray me
not! Deaf and dumb must I appear--deaf and dumb must I yet be deemed for
a short space. But to-night, at twelve o'clock, you will meet me,
Demetrius, in the garden of the Riverola mansion;--and then I will
conduct you to an apartment where we may confer without fear of being
overheard--without danger of interruption."
"I will not fail thee, lady," said the Greek, scarcely able to recover
from the amazement into which Nisida's sudden revelation of her power of
speech and hearing had thrown him: then, as an oppressive feeling seized
upon his soul, he demanded, "But Calanthe, lady, in the name of heaven!
one word more and let that word give me hope that I may see my sister
again!"
"Demetrius," answered Nisida, her countenance becoming ominous and
somber, "you will never behold her more. The lust of Ibrahim Pasha--nay,
start not so violently--brought destruction and death upon Calanthe!"
The features of the young Greek were at first distorted with anguish,
and tears started from his eyes: but in the next moment their expression
changed to one denoting the fiercest rage.
Nisida understood all that was passing in his soul; and she bent upon
him a significant glance, which said more eloquently than language could
have done--"Yes, vengeance thou shalt have!"
She then rose from the velvet cushions which had been spread upon the
ground within the tent, and waving her hand in token of temporary
farewell to Demetrius, hastened forth, mounted her horse, and departed,
alone and unattended, toward Florence.
Great was the surprise that evening of the numerous servants and
dependents at the Riverola mansion, when Donna Nisida suddenly
reappeared after an absence of very nearly seven months--and that
absence so unaccountable to them! Although her haughty and imperious
manner had never been particularly calculated to render her beloved by
the menials of the household, yet her supposed affliction of deafness
and dumbness had naturally made her an object of interest; and,
moreover, as close upon three months had elapsed since Count Francisco
himself had disappeared in a strange and alarming way two days only
after his return from the wars, the domestics were pleased to behold at
least one member of the lost family come back amongst them. Thus it was
with sincere demonstrations of delight that the dependents and menials
welcomed Donna Nisida at Riverola; and she was not ungracious enough to
receive their civilities with coldness. But she speedily escaped from
the ceremonies of this reception: and, intimating by signs to the female
minions who were about to escort her to her apartments that she was
anxious to be alone, she hurried thither, her heart leaping with joy at
the thought of being once more beneath the roof of the palace of her
forefathers. And, Fernand--wast thou forgotten? Oh! no--no; in spite of
all her revived schemings and new plots, Nisida, thy well-beloved
Nisida, had room in her heart for thine image! On reaching her own suit
of apartments, the key of which had been handed to her by one of the
female dependents, Nisida found everything in the same state as when she
last was there; and it appeared to her a dream, yes, a very wondrous
dream, that she had been absent for nearly seven months, and during that
period had seen and experienced such strange vicissitudes. The reader
need scarcely be informed that Nisida's first impulse, on entering her
own suit of apartments in the Riverola mansion, was to hasten and gaze
once more upon the portrait of her mother, and intent, earnest,
enthusiastic was the upraised look now fixed upon that portrait, even as
when we first saw Nisida contemplating the sweet and benignant
countenance in the second chapter of our narrative. Yes:--and again was
her gaze indicative of a devotion, an adoration, a worship.
"Oh! my sainted mother," thought Nisida within her breast, "I have not
proved ultimately faithless to the solemn vows I pledged to thee upon
thy death-bed! No; if for a time I yielded to the voluptuous idleness of
love and passion in that now far off Mediterranean isle, yet, at last
did I arouse myself to energy for young Francisco's sake, and I came
back as soon as Heaven sent me the means of return to the place where my
presence may best serve _his_ interests, and carry out _thy_ wishes!
For, oh! when thou wast alive, my worshiped, my adored mother, how good,
how kind, how affectionate wast thou toward me. And that tenderness of a
mother for her offspring, ah! how well can I comprehend it now; for I
also shall soon become a mother. Yes, Fernand! within the last week I
have received the conviction that a being bearing thine image will see
the light in due time; and the honor of the proud name of Riverola
requires that our child must not be born of an unwedded mother! But wilt
thou seek me out, Fernand? Oh! where art thou now? whither was the bark,
in which I beheld thee last, wafting thee away?"
And, all the while that these thoughts were agitating within her mind,
Donna Nisida kept her eyes intently fixed on the portrait; but on
reflecting a second time that should she fail to meet with Wagner soon
again, or should he prove faithless to her, or if, indeed, he should
nurse resentment and loathing for her on account of her unworthy conduct
toward him on the island, and that her child should be born of an
unwedded mother,--when, we say, she thought of this dread probability a
second time, she burst into tears, and turned away from the
contemplation of her mother's countenance. And Nisida so seldom wept,
that when tears did escape the usually sealed up springs of her
emotions, they came in torrents, and were most bitter and painful to
shed. But she at length triumphed over her feelings, or rather, their
outpourings relieved her; and now the remembrance of another duty which
she had resolved upon performing the moment she should reach home again
was uppermost in her mind. She contemplated a visit to the mysterious
closet--the dark cabinet of horrible secrets, in order to ascertain
whether curiosity had triumphed over Francisco's prudence, or if any one
indeed had violated the loneliness of that chamber in which the late
Count of Riverola, had breathed his last. She accordingly took a lamp in
her hand, for it was now far advanced in the evening, and proceeded to
the apartment where a father's dying injunctions had been given to her
brother, and which that father and that brother had so little suspected
to have been heard and greedily drunk in by her ears. The door of the
room was locked; Nisida accordingly proceeded forthwith to her brother's
chamber; and there, in a secret place where she knew he had been
accustomed to keep papers or valuables, she found the key of the chamber
containing the mysterious closet, but not the key of the closet itself.
Of this latter circumstance she was glad; inasmuch as she conceived that
he had adopted her counsel to carry it invariably secured about his
person, so that no prying domestics might use it in his absence.
Returning, therefore, with the one key which she had found, she entered
the apartment where her father had breathed his last.
Unchanged was its appearance, in mournfulness and gloom unchanged, in
arrangements and features precisely the same as when she last was there,
on the night when she intercepted the banditti in their predatory visit.
She drew aside the hangings of the bed, a cloud of dust flew out--and
for a few moments she stood gazing on the couch where the dark spirit of
her sire had fled from its mortal tenement! And as she still lingered
near the bed, the remembrance of the death-scene came so vividly back to
her mind, that for an instant she fancied she beheld the cold, stern,
relentless countenance of the late Count of Riverola upon the pillow;
and she turned away more in loathing and abhorrence than alarm, for
through her brain flashed in dread association with his memory, the
awful words--"And as the merciless scalpel hacked and hewed away at the
still almost palpitating flesh of the murdered man, in whose breast the
dagger remained deeply buried--a ferocious joy--a savage, hyena-like
triumph filled my soul; and I experienced no remorse for the deed I had
done!"
Yes, she turned aside, and was advancing rapidly toward the mysterious
closet, when--holy God!--was it reality or imagination? Was it a human
being or a specter from another world? For a tall, dark form, muffled
apparently in a long cowl--or it might be a cloak, but Nisida was too
bewildered to discriminate aright--glided from the middle of the room
where her eyes first beheld it, and was lost to view almost as soon as
seen. Strong minded as Nisida was, indomitable as was her courage, and
far away as she was from being superstitious, yet now she staggered,
reeled, and would have fallen had she not come in contact with the
mysterious closet, against which she leaned for support. She gasped for
breath, and her eyes were fixed wildly upon the door by which the
figures had disappeared. Nevertheless, she had so far retained her
presence of mind as to grasp the lamp firmly in her hand, for at that
moment, after such a fright, in the room where her father had died, and
in the close vicinity of the fearful cabinet, even Nisida would have
fainted with terror to be left in darkness.
"'Twas imagination--naught save imagination," she thought within
herself, as she exerted all her power to surmount the alarms that had
seized upon her. "But no! I remember to have closed the door carefully
behind me, and now it is open!"
As that reminiscence and conviction flashed to her mind, she nerved
herself to advance into the passage; but all was silent, and not a soul
was there save herself. Scarcely knowing what to think, yet ashamed to
give way to superstitious fears, Nisida retraced her steps, and
proceeded to examine the door of the closet. She was satisfied that it
had never been opened since the night of her father's death; for the
seals which she had induced Francisco to place upon the lock next day
were still there. But all the while she was thus scrutinizing the door,
the lock, and the seals, she could not help occasionally casting a
furtive glance around, to convince herself that the tall, dark, muffled
form was not standing behind her: and, as she retraced her way to her
own apartments, she stopped now and then through dread that _other_
footsteps beside her own echoed in the long and lonely corridors of the
old mansion. She, however, regained her chamber in safety, and fell into
a deep reverie respecting the tall figure she had seen. Were it not for
the fact, of which she was confident, of her having closed the door on
entering the room where her father had died, she would have concluded
that her imagination had deluded her; but she now feared lest she might
be watched by spies for some unknown and hostile purpose. It was
perplexing, to say the least of it; and Nisida determined to adopt all
possible precautions against her secret enemies, whoever they might be.
She accordingly arose from her seat--put off her upper garment--donned
her thin but strong corselet--and then assumed the black velvet robe
which reached up to her throat, concealing the armor beneath. Her
flexible dagger--that fatal weapon which had dealt death to the
unfortunate Agnes--was next thrust into the sheath formed by the wide
border of her stomacher; and Nisida smiled with haughty triumph as if in
defiance to her foes. She then repaired to one of the splendid saloons
of the mansion; and ere she sat down to the repast that was served up,
she dispatched a note acquainting Dr. Duras with her return, and
requesting his immediate presence. In about half an hour the physician
arrived, and his joy at beholding Nisida again was only equaled by his
impatience to learn the cause of her long absence and all that had
befallen her during the interval.
She made a sign for the old man to follow her to the retirement of her
own apartments; and then, having closed the door, she said to him in a
low tone, "Doctor, we will converse by means of signs no more; for,
though still forced to simulate the deaf and dumb in the presence of the
world, yet now--with you, who have all along known my terrible
secret--our discourse must be too important to be carried on by mere
signs."
"Nisida," returned Duras, also in a low and cautious tone, "thou knowest
that I love thee as if thou wast my own daughter; and thy voice sounds
like music upon my ears. But when will the dreadful necessity which
renders thee dumb before the world--when will it cease, Nisida?"
"Soon--soon, doctor--if thou wilt aid me," answered the lady.
A long and earnest conversation then ensued; but it is not necessary to
give the details to the reader, inasmuch as their nature will soon
transpire. Suffice it to say that Nisida urged a particular request,
which she backed by such explanation and we must also say
misrepresentations as she thought suitable to her purpose; and that Dr.
Duras eventually, though not without compunction and hesitation, at
length acceded to her prayer. She then gave him a brief account of her
abduction from Florence by the villain Stephano--her long residence on
the island of snakes--and her deliverance from thence by the Ottoman
fleet, which was now off the port of Leghorn. But she said nothing of
Fernand Wagner: nor did she inform the physician that she was acquainted
with the cause of Francisco's disappearance and the place where he was
detained. At length Dr. Duras took his leave; but ere he left the room
Nisida caught him by the hand, saying, in a low, yet impressive
tone--"Remember your solemn promise, my dear friend, and induce your
brother to leave Flora Francatelli to her fate."
"I will--I will," answered the physician. "And after all you have told
me, and if she be really the bad, profligate, and evil-disposed girl you
represent her, it will be well that the inquisition should hold her
tight in its grasp."
With these words Dr. Duras departed, leaving Nisida to gloat over the
success which her plans had thus far experienced.