It was verging toward midnight, and the moon was concealed behind dark
clouds, when a tall figure, muffled in a cloak, climbed over the railing
which inclosed one portion of the spacious garden attached to the
Riverola Palace. That person was Fernand Wagner. He had arrived in
Florence two days before that on which Nisida returned to the ancestral
dwelling:--he had entered the city boldly and openly in the joyous
sun-light--and yet no one molested him. He even encountered some of the
very sbirri who had arrested him in the preceding month of February;
they saluted him respectfully--thus showed that they recognized him--but
offered not to harm him. His trial, his condemnation, and his escape
appeared all to have been forgotten. He repaired to his mansion; his
servants, who had remained in possession of the dwelling, received him
with demonstrations of joy and welcome as if he had just returned under
ordinary circumstances from a long journey. Truly, then, he was blessed
by the protection of Heaven. And--more wondrous still--on entering his
favorite room he beheld all his pictures in their proper places, as if
none of them had ever been removed--as if the confiscation of several by
the criminal tribunal had never taken place. Over the one which had
proclaimed the secret of his doom to the judges and the audience on the
occasion of his trial, still hung the black cloth; and an undefinable
curiosity--no, not a sentiment of curiosity, but one of hope--impelled
him to remove the covering. And how exquisite was his joy, how great his
amazement, how sincere his thanksgivings, when he beheld but a blank
piece of canvas. The horrible picture of the Wehr-Wolf, a picture which
he had painted when in a strangely morbid state of mind--had
disappeared. Here was another sign of Heaven's goodness--a further proof
of celestial mercy.
On instituting inquiries, Fernand had learnt that Donna Nisida had not
yet come back to Florence: but he employed trusty persons to watch and
give him notice of her arrival the instant it should occur. Thus Nisida
had not been half an hour at the Riverola mansion when Fernand was made
acquainted with her return. From the conversation which had taken place
between them at various times on the island, and as the reader is well
aware, Wagner felt convinced that Nisida would again simulate deafness
and dumbness; and he was therefore desirous to avoid giving her any
surprise by appearing abruptly before her--a proceeding which might
evoke a sudden ejaculation, and thus betray her secret. Moreover, he
knew not whether circumstances would render his visits, made in a public
manner, agreeable to her: and, perhaps--pardon him, gentle
reader--perhaps he was also curious to learn whether she still thought
of him, or whether the excitement of her return had absorbed all tender
feelings of that nature.
Influenced by these various motives, Wagner muffled himself in a long
Tuscan cloak and repaired to the vicinity of the Riverola mansion. He
passed through the gardens without encountering any one, and, perceiving
a side door open, he entered the building. Ascending the stairs, he
thought that he should be acting in accordance with the advice given him
by Rosencrux, and also consistent with prudence, were he at once to seek
an interview with Nisida privately. He therefore repaired in the
direction of the principal saloons of the palace; but losing his way
amidst the maze of corridors, he was about to retire, when he beheld the
object of his search, the beautiful Nisida, enter a room with a lamp in
hand. He now felt convinced that he should meet her alone, and he
hurried after her. In pursuance of his cautious plan, he opened the door
gently, and was already in the middle of the apartment, when he
perceived Nisida standing by the side of a bed, and with her head fixed
in that immovable manner which indicates intent gazing upon some object.
Instantly supposing that some invalid reposed in that couch, and now
seized with a dreadful alarm lest Nisida, on beholding him, should utter
a sudden ejaculation which would betray the secret of her feigned
dumbness, Fernand considerately retreated with all possible speed: nor
was he aware that Nisida had observed him, much less that his appearance
there had excited such fears in her breast, those fears being greatly
enhanced by his negligence in leaving the door open behind him.
Oh! had Nisida known it was thou, Fernand Wagner, how joyous, how happy
she would have been; for the conviction that she bore the pledge of your
mutual passion had made her heart yearn that eve to meet with thee
again. And was it a like attraction on thy part, or the mysterious
influence that now guided all thy movements, which induced thee at
midnight to enter the Riverola gardens again, that thou mightest be, as
it were, upon the same spot where she dwelt, and scent the fragrance of
the same flowers that perfumed the atmosphere which she breathed? Oh!
doubtless it was that mysterious influence; for thou hast now that power
within thee which made thee strong to resist all the blandishments of
the siren, and to prefer the welfare of thine own soul to aught in this
world beside!
We said, then, at the commencement of this chapter that Fernand entered
the Riverola gardens shortly after midnight. But scarcely had he crossed
the iron railings, turned into the nearest path formed by shrubs and
evergreens, when he was startled by hearing another person enter the
grounds in the same unceremonious manner. Fernand accordingly stood aside
in the deep shade of the trees; and in a few moments a figure, muffled
like himself in a cloak, passed him rapidly by. Wagner was debating in
himself what course he should pursue--for he feared that some treachery
was intended toward Nisida--when to his boundless surprise, he heard the
mysterious visitant say in a low tone. "Is it you, lady?"--to which
question the unmistakable and never-to-be-forgotten voice of his Nisida
answered, "'Tis I, Demetrius. Follow me noiselessly, and breathe not
another word for the present!"
Fernand was shocked and grieved at what he had just heard, and which
savored so strongly of an intrigue. Had not his ears deceived him? was
this the Nisida from whom he had parted but little more than three weeks
back, and who had left him that tender note which he had found in the
hut on the island? But he had no time for reflection; the pair were
moving rapidly toward the mansion--and Wagner unhesitatingly followed,
his footsteps being soundless on the damp soil of the borders of
flowers, and his form being concealed by the shade of the tall
evergreens which he skirted.
He watched Nisida and her companion until they disappeared by a small
private door at the back of the mansion; and this door was by them
incautiously left unlocked, though shut close. It opened rapidly to
Wagner's hand, and he found himself at the foot of a dark staircase, the
sound of ascending steps on which met his ears. Up that narrow flight he
sped, noiselessly but hastily; and in a few moments he was stopped by
another door which had just closed behind those whom he was following.
Here he was compelled to pause, in the hope that the partition might not
be so thick as completely to intercept the sounds of the voices in the
chamber; but after listening with breathless attention for a few
minutes, he could not catch even the murmuring of a whisper. It now
struck him that Nisida and her companion might have passed on into a
room more remote than the one to which that door had admitted them; and
he resolved to follow on. Accordingly, he opened the door with such
successful precaution that not a sound--not even the creaking of the
hinge was the result; and he immediately perceived that there was a
thick curtain within; for it will be recollected that this door was
behind the drapery of Nisida's bed. At the same time, a light, somewhat
subdued by the thick curtain, appeared; and the sound of voices met
Fernand's ears.
"Signor," said the melodious voice of Nisida, in its sweetest, softest
tones, "it is due to myself to tender fitting excuse for introducing you
thus into my private chamber; but the necessity of discoursing together
without fear of interruption, and in some place that is secure from the
impertinence of eavesdroppers, must serve as an apology."
"Lady," replied Demetrius, "it needed no explanation of your motive in
bringing me hither to command on my part that respect which is due to
you."
A weight was removed from Wagner's mind: it was assuredly no tender
sentiment that had brought Nisida and the Greek together this night; and
the curiosity of Fernand was therefore excited all the more strongly.
"We will not waste time in unnecessary parlance," resumed Nisida, after
a short pause; "nor must you seek to learn the causes--the powerful
causes, which have urged me to impose upon myself the awful sacrifice
involved in the simulation of loss of speech and hearing. Suffice it for
you to know that, when on board the kapitan-pasha's ship, I overheard
every syllable of the conversation which one day took place between the
apostate Ibrahim and yourself,--a conversation wherein you gave a
detailed account of all your proceedings at Florence, and in the course
of which you spoke feelingly of your sister Calanthe."
"Alas! poor Calanthe!" exclaimed Demetrius, in a mournful tone; "and is
she really no more?"
"Listen to me while I relate the manner in which I became aware of her
fate," said Nisida.
She then explained the treacherous visit of the grand vizier to the
cabin wherein she had slept on board the Ottoman admiral's ship--the way
in which the Ethiopian slave had interfered to save her--and the
conversation that had taken place between Ibrahim and the negro,
revealing the dread fate of Calanthe.
"Is it possible that I have served so faithfully a man possessed of such
a demon-heart?" cried Demetrius. "But I will have vengeance, lady; yes,
the murdered Calanthe shall be avenged!"
"And I too must have vengeance upon the proud and insolent vizier who
sought to violate all the laws of hospitality in respect to me,"
observed Nisida, "and who seeks to marry his sister, the low-born Flora,
the sister of the base renegade, to the illustrious scion of the noble
house of Riverola! Vengeance, too, must I have upon the wretch Antonio,
the panderer to my father's illicit and degrading _amours_--the
miscreant who sought to plunder this mansion, and who even dared to
utter threats against me in that conversation with his accomplice
Venturo, which you, signor, overheard in the streets of Florence. This
game wretch it is, too, who consigned my brother to the custody of
banditti; and though, for certain reasons, I deplore not that captivity
which Francisco has endured, inasmuch as it has effectually prevented
him from interesting himself on behalf of Flora Francatelli, yet as
Antonio was animated by vengeance only in so using my brother, he shall
pay the penalty due on account of all his crimes!"
"And in the task of punishing Antonio, lady," said Demetrius, "shall I
be right glad to aid--for did not the villain deceive me infamously in
respect to the dispatches which I sought to forward to Constantinople
when last I was at Florence? and, not contented with that vile
treachery, even plotted with his accomplice Venturo against my life."
"Vengeance, then, upon our enemies, Demetrius!" exclaimed Nisida. "And
this is how our aims shall be accomplished," she continued, in a lower
and less excited tone: "The ambitious views of Ibrahim Pasha must
experience a signal defeat; and as he is too powerful to be personally
injured by us, we must torture his soul by crushing his relations--we
must punish him through the medium of his sister and his aunt. This
evening I had a long discourse with Dr. Duras, who is devoted to my
interests, and over whom I wield a wondrous power of persuasion. He has
undertaken to induce his brother, Angelo Duras, to abandon the cause of
the Francatellis; and the inquisition will, therefore, deal with them as
it lists. Father Marco I can also manage as I will; he understands the
language in which the deaf and dumb converse, for he has so long been
confessor to our family. To-morrow I will undertake to send him to Rome
on some charitable mission connected with the church. Thus the only
persons whom you secured when last you were in Florence, in the
interests of the Francatellis, will cease to watch over them; and, as
they are accused of being accomplices in the sacrilege perpetrated in
the Carmelite Convent, naught will save them from the flames of the
_auto-da-fe_."
"Oh! spirit of the murdered Calanthe," exclaimed Demetrius, with savage
joy, "thou wilt be avenged yet! And thou, false vizier, shalt writhe in
the flames at the stake!"
"Now, as for Antonio, and the rest of the banditti who stormed the
convent and gave freedom to the hated Flora--who have likewise captured
my brother--and who have so long been a terror to Florence," continued
Nisida; "we must annihilate them all at one blow; not a soul of the gang
must be spared!"
Nisida knew full well that at least some of the banditti were acquainted
with the fact that she was the murderess of Agnes, and that they could
also tell an awkward tale of how she sought to bribe them to rescue
Fernand Wagner in case of an adverse judgment on the part of the
criminal tribunal. The total annihilation of the horde was consequently
the large aim at which she aspired, and her energetic mind shrunk not
from any difficulties that might appear in the way toward the execution
of that object.
"The design is grand, but not without its obstacles," observed
Demetrius. "Your ladyship will moreover adopt measures to rescue the
Lord Count of Riverola first."
"By means of gold everything can be accomplished amongst villains,"
returned Nisida, "and the necessary preliminaries to the carrying out of
our object rest with you, signor. To-morrow morning must you seek
Antonio. He knows not that you suspect his villainy and, as you will say
nothing relative to the failure in the arrival of your dispatches at
Constantinople, he will rest secure in the belief that you have not yet
discovered that deed of treachery. You must represent yourself as the
mortal enemy of the Count of Riverola, and so speak as to lead Antonio
to confess to you where he is and offer to become the instrument of your
vengeance. Then bribe Antonio heavily to deliver up Francisco into your
power to-morrow night at a particular hour, and at a place not far from
the spot where you know the secret entrance of the banditti's stronghold
to be."
"All this, lady," said Demetrius, "can be easily arranged. Antonio would
barter his soul for gold; much more readily, then, will he sell the
Count of Riverola to one who bids high for the possession of the noble
prisoner."
"But this is not all," resumed Nisida, "'tis merely the preface to my
plan. So soon as the shades of to-morrow's evening shall have involved
the earth in obscurity, a strong party of your soldiers, properly
disguised, but well armed, must repair in small sections, or even
singly, to that grove where you have already obtained a clew to the
entrance of the robbers' stronghold. Let them conceal themselves amongst
the trees in the immediate vicinity of the enormous chestnut that
overhangs the precipice. When the robbers emerge from their
lurking-place with Francisco, your soldiers will immediately seize upon
them. Should you then discover the secret of the entrance to the
stronghold, the object will be gained,--your men will penetrate into the
subterranean den,--and the massacre of the horde will prove an easy
matter. But should it occur that those banditti who may be employed in
leading forth my brother, do shut up the entrance of their den so
speedily that your dependents discover not its secrets, then must we
trust to bribery or threats to wrest that secret from the miscreants. At
all events Antonio will be present to accompany Francisco to the place
which you will appoint to meet them; and as the villain will fall into
your power, it will perhaps prove less difficult to induce him to betray
his comrades, than it might be to persuade any of the banditti
themselves."
"Lady, your plan has every element of success," observed Demetrius; "and
all shall be done as you suggest. Indeed, I will myself conduct the
expedition. But should you thus at once effect the release of Don
Francisco, will he not oppose your designs relative to the condemnation
of Flora Francatelli by the inquisition?"
"Dr. Duras is well acquainted with the precise process," answered
Nisida; "and from him I learnt that the third examination of the
prisoners will take place to-morrow, when judgment will be pronounced
should no advocate appear to urge a feasible cause of delay."
"The arrests took place on the 3d of July," said Demetrius; "and Angelo
Duras undertook to obtain a postponement for three months. To-morrow,
lady, is but the 26th of September."
"True," responded Nisida; "but were a delay granted, it would be for
eight days--and thus you perceive how nicely Angelo Duras had weighed
all the intricacies of the case, and how accurately he had calculated
the length of the term to be gained by the exercise of the subtleties of
the inquisitorial law. Therefore, as no advocate will appear to demand
delay, Flora is certain to be condemned to-morrow night, and the release
of Francisco may take place simultaneously--for when once the grand
inquisitor shall have pronounced the extreme sentence, no human power
can reverse it. And now," added Nisida, "but one word more. The grand
vizier commanded you to dispatch a courier daily to Leghorn with full
particulars of all your proceedings; see that those accounts be of a
nature to lull the treacherous Ibrahim into security--for, were he to
learn that his aunt and sister are in dread peril, he would be capable
of marching at the head of all his troops to sack the city of Florence."
"Fear not on that subject, lady," answered Demetrius. "I will so amuse
the demon-hearted grand vizier by my dispatches, that he shall become
excited with joyous hopes--so that the blow--the dread blow which we are
preparing for him--may be the more terribly severe."
The Greek then rose to take his leave of Donna Nisida; and Wagner,
having closed the secret door as noiselessly as he had opened it,
hurried away from the Riverola mansion bewildered and grieved at all he
had heard--for he could no longer conceal from himself that a very fiend
was incarnate in the shape of her whom he had loved so madly.
Having tossed on a feverish couch for upward of an hour,--unable to
banish from his mind the cold blooded plot which Nisida and Demetrius
had resolved upon in order to consign Flora Francatelli and her equally
innocent aunt to the stake,--Wagner at last slept through sheer
exhaustion. Then Christianus Rosencrux appeared to him in a dream and
said:--"Heaven hath chosen thee as the instrument to defeat the
iniquitous purposes of Riverola in respect of two guiltless and
deserving women. Angelo Duras is an upright man; but he is deluded and
misled by the representations made to him by Nisida, through his
brother, the physician, relative to the true character of Flora. In the
evening at nine o'clock, hie to Angelo Duras--command him in the name of
justice and humanity, to do his duty toward his clients--and he will
obey thee. Then, having performed this much, speed thou without delay to
Leghorn, and seek the grand vizier, Ibrahim Pasha. To him shalt thou
merely state that Demetrius is a traitor, and that tremendous perils
hang over the heads of the vizier's much-loved relatives. Manifest no
hatred to the vizier on account of his late treacherous intention with
regard to the honor of Nisida: for vengeance belongeth not to mortals.
And in these measures only, of all the deeply ramified plots and designs
which thou didst hear discussed between Nisida and Demetrius, shall thou
interfere. Leave the rest to Heaven."
The founder of the Rosicrucians disappeared: and when Fernand awoke late
in the day--for his slumber had been long and deep--he remembered the
vision which he had seen, and resolved to obey the order he had
received.
Beneath the massive and heavy tower of the Palazzo del Podesta, or Ducal
Palace of Florence, was the tribunal of the holy inquisition. Small,
low, and terribly somber in appearance was this court--with walls of the
most solid masonry, an arched roof, and a pavement formed of vast blocks
of dark-veined marble. Thither the light of heaven never penetrated; for
it was situate far below the level of the earth, and at the very
foundation of that tower which rose, frowning and sullen, high above.
Iron lamps diffused a lurid luster around, rendering ghastly the
countenance alike of the oppressors and the oppressed; and when it was
deemed necessary to invest the proceedings with a more awe-inspiring
solemnity than usual, torches, borne by the familiars or officers of the
inquisition, were substituted for these iron lamps. Over the
judgment-seat was suspended a large crucifix. On one side of the court
were three doors,--one communicating with the corridor and flight of
stone steps leading to and from the tribunal; the second affording
admission into the torture-chamber and the third opening to the prisons
of the inquisition.
It was about seven o'clock in the evening, on the 26th of September,
that Flora Francatelli and her aunt were placed before the grand
inquisitor, to be examined for the second time. When the familiars,
habited in their long, black, ecclesiastical dresses with the strange
cowls or hoods shading their stern and remorseless countenances, led in
the two females from the separate cells in which they had been confined,
the first and natural impulse of the unhappy creatures was to rush into
each other's arms;--but they were immediately torn rudely asunder, and
so stationed in the presence of the grand inquisitor as to have a
considerable interval between them.
But the glances which the aunt and niece exchanged, gave encouragement
and hope to each other, and the sentiments which prompted those glances
were really cherished by the persecuted females; inasmuch as Father
Marco, who had been permitted to visit them occasionally, dropped sundry
hints of coming aid, and powerful, though invisible, protection--thereby
cheering their hearts to some little extent, and mitigating the
intensity of their apprehensions. Flora was very pale--but never,
perhaps, had she appeared more beautiful--for her large blue eyes
expressed the most melting softness, and her dark brown hair hung
disheveled over her shoulders, while her bosom heaved with the agitation
of suspense.
"Woman," said the grand inquisitor, glancing first to the aunt and then
to the niece, his eyes, however, lingering upon the latter, "know ye of
what ye are accused? Let the younger speak first."
"My lord," answered Flora, in a firmer tone than might have been
expected from the feelings indicated by her outward appearance, "when on
a former occasion I stood in the presence of your eminence, I expressed
my belief that secret enemies were conspiring, for their own bad
purposes, to ruin my beloved relative and myself; and yet I call Heaven
to witness my solemn declaration that knowingly and willfully we have
wronged no one by word or deed."
"Young woman," exclaimed the grand inquisitor, "thou hast answered my
questions evasively. Wast thou not an inmate of that most holy
sanctuary, the convent of Carmelite nuns? wast thou not there the
companion of Giulia of Arestino? did not a sacrilegious horde of
miscreants break into the convent, headed or at least accompanied by a
certain Manuel d'Orsini who was the lover of the countess? was not this
invasion of the sacred place undertaken to rescue that guilty woman? and
did she not find an asylum at the abode of your aunt, doubtless with
your connivance, until the day of her arrest?"
"None of those circumstances, my lord," replied Flora, "do I attempt to
deny: but it is so easy to give them a variety of colorings, some of
which, alas! may seem most unfavorable to my venerable relative and to
myself. Oh, my lord, do with me what thou wilt," exclaimed Flora,
clasping her hands together in a single paroxysm of anguish; "but
release that aged woman, suffer not my beloved aunt--my more than mother
to be thus persecuted! have mercy, my lord, upon _her_--oh! have mercy,
great judge, upon her."
"Flora--dearest Flora," cried Dame Francatelli, the tears trickling fast
down her countenance, "I do not wish to leave you--I do not seek to be
set free--I will stay in this dreadful place so long as you remain a
prisoner also; for though we are separated----"
"Woman," exclaimed the grand inquisitor, not altogether unmoved by this
touching scene, "the tribunal cannot take heed of supplications and
prayers of an impassioned nature. It has to do with facts, not
feelings."
At this moment there was a slight sensation amongst the familiars
stationed near the door of the judgment-hall; and an individual who had
just entered the court, and who wore the black robe and the cap or toque
of a counselor, advanced toward the grand inquisitor.
"My lord," said the advocate, with a reverential bow, "the day after the
arrest of these females, I submitted to the council of state a memorial,
setting forth certain facts which induced the president of the council
to issue his warrant to order the postponement of the second examination
of the two prisoners now before your eminence, until this day."
"And the case has been postponed accordingly," answered the grand
inquisitor. "It will now proceed, unless reasonable cause be shown for
further delay. The prisoners are obstinate. Instead of confessing their
heinous crimes, and throwing themselves on the mercy of Heaven--for past
the hope of human mercy they are--they assuredly break forth into
impassioned language, savoring of complaint. Indeed, the younger
attributes to the machinations of unknown enemies the position in which
she is placed. Yet have we positive proof that she was leagued with
those who perpetrated the sacrilege which ended in the destruction of
the Carmelite Convent; and the elder prisoner gave refuge not only to
the young girl, her niece, but also to a woman more guilty still--thus
rendering herself infamous as one who encouraged and concealed the
enemies of the church, instead of giving them up to the most holy
inquisition. Wherefore," continued the grand inquisitor, "it remaineth
only for me to order the prisoners to be put to the torture, that they
may confess their crimes and receive the condemnation which they merit."
At the terrible word "_torture_," Dame Francatelli uttered a cry of
agony--but it was even more on account of her beloved niece than
herself; while Flora, endowed with greater firmness than her aunt, would
have flown to console and embrace her, had not the familiars cruelly
compelled the young maiden to retain her place.
"My lord," said Angelo Duras--for he was the advocate who appeared on
behalf of the prisoners--"I formally and earnestly demand a delay of
eight days ere this final examination be proceeded with."
"It is impossible," returned the grand inquisitor, while his words went
like ice-shafts to the hearts of the unhappy women. "In addition to the
charges against them which I have already glanced at, it appeareth that
one Alessandro Francatelli, who is nearly related to them both, hath
abjured the Christian faith and become a Mussulman. This fact was
reported many months ago to the council of state: and in the cottage
lately habited by the prisoners was found a costly set of jewels,
ornamented with sundry Moslem devices and symbols, all of which are
hateful to the true Catholic. It is therefore natural to suppose that
they themselves have secretly abjured their country's religion, and have
already received the reward of their apostasy."
"No--never, never!" exclaimed the aunt, clasping her hands together, and
showing more anguish by this cruel suspicion than by any other portion
of the treatment which she had received at the hands of the inquisition.
On her side, Flora appeared to be astounded at the accusation made
against her aunt and herself by the grand inquisitor.
"My lord," said Angelo Duras, "the very statement which has just been
put forth by your eminence furnishes a new ground whereon I base my
requisition for a delay of eight days, in order to prepare a fitting
defense on behalf of the prisoners. The council of state is now sitting
in deliberation on certain demands made by the newly arrived Ottoman
envoy, and should your eminence refuse my requisition for a delay, it
will be my duty forthwith to apply to that august body."
The grand inquisitor endeavored to reason with the advocate on the
inconvenience of obstructing the business of the tribunal--but Angelo
Duras, knowing that he had the law on his side, was firm; and the judge
was finally compelled to accord the delay. Flora and her aunt were
accordingly conveyed back each to her separate cell; while Angelo Duras
retired, murmuring to himself, "I shall doubtless offend my brother by
my conduct in this respect, after my solemn promise to him to abandon
the cause of the Francatellis; but I prefer having obeyed that young man
of godlike aspect and persuasive manner who visited me ere now to abjure
me not to neglect my duty."
The next case that occupied the attention of the grand inquisitor on the
present occasion was that of the Jew Isaachar ben Solomon. The old man
was indeed a miserable spectacle. His garments hung loosely about his
wasted and attenuated form--his countenance was wan and ghastly--but the
fire of his eyes was not altogether quenched. He was heavily
chained--and, as he walked between the two familiars who led him into
the tribunal, he could scarcely drag himself along. For the persecuted
old man had been confined for nearly seven months in the prison of the
inquisition; and during that period he had suffered acutely with the
damps of his dungeon--the wretched food doled out to him--and the
anguish occasioned by conscious innocence unjustly accused of a dreadful
crime.
"Jew," said the grand inquisitor, "when last thou wast examined by me,
thou didst obstinately refuse to confess thy grievous sins. This is the
day for the final investigation of thy case: and thou may'st produce
witnesses in thy favor, if thou canst."
"My lord," replied Isaachar ben Solomon, in a weak and tremulous voice,
"unless Heaven should work a miracle in my favor, I have no hope in this
life. I do not fear death, my lord; for, persecuted, reviled, despised,
accused as I am, I can yet lay my hand on my heart and say I have never
injured a fellow-creature. But, my lord," he continued, his voice
growing stronger with excitement, "it is sufficient that I am a Jew to
insure my condemnation; and yet strange indeed is that Christian faith,
or rather should I say, most inconsistent is the conduct of those who
profess it, in so far as this ruthless persecution of my race is
concerned. For where, my lord, is your charity, where is your tolerance,
where is your mercy? If I be indeed involved in mental darkness, 'tis
for you to enlighten me with argument, not coerce me with chains. Never
have I insulted a Christian on account of his creed: wherefore should I
be insulted in mine? Granting that the Jew is in error, he surely
deserves pity, not persecution. For how came I by the creed which I
profess? Even as your lordship obtained yours, which is that of
Christian. Our parents reared us each in the belief which they
respectively professed; and there is no more merit due to your eminence
for being a Christian, than there is blame to be attached to me for
being a Jew. Had all the religions of the earth been submitted to our
consideration when we were children, and had it been said to each of us,
'Select a faith for yourself,' then there might be some merit in
choosing the one most popular and the most assuredly conducive to
personal safety. But such was not the case, my lord; and I am a Jew for
the same reason that you are a Christian--and I cling to the creed of my
forefathers even as you adhere tenaciously to that faith which your
ancestors have handed down to you. Reproach me not, then, because I am a
Jew. And now I will pass to another subject, my lord," continued
Isaachar, becoming more and more animated as he proceeded.
"I am accused of a fearful crime, of murder. The evidence rests upon the
fact that stains of blood were observed upon the floor of a room in my
house. The answer is simple. Two men--one of noble birth, the other a
robber, fought in the room; and the blood of one of them flowed from a
slight wound. This is the truth--and yet I know that I am not believed.
Merciful heavens! of what would you accuse me? Of murder!--and it was
hinted, when last I stood before your eminence, that the Jews have been
known to slay Christian children as an offering to Heaven. My lord, the
Jews worship the same God as the Christians--for the Christians adopt
that book in which the Jews put faith. Then I appeal to your eminence
whether the God whom the Christians worship would delight in such
sacrifices?--and as you must answer 'Nay,' the reply acquits the Jews
also of the hideous calumny sought to be affixed upon us. The Jews, my
lord, are a merciful and humane race. The records of your tribunals will
prove that the Jews are not addicted to the shedding of blood. They are
too patient--enduring--and resigned, to be given to vengeance. Behold
how they cling to each other--how they assist each other in
distress;--and charity is not narrowed to small circles, my lord, it is
a sentiment which must become expansive, because it nourisheth itself
and is cherished by those good feelings which are its only reward. Think
you, my lord, that if I saw a fellow-creature starving in the street, I
should wait to ask him whether he were a Christian, a Jew, or a
Mussulman? Oh! no--no; the world's bread was given for men of all
nations and all creeds!"
Isaachar would have continued his address to the grand inquisitor; but
sheer exhaustion compelled him to desist--and he would have sunk upon
the cold marble, had not the familiars supported him.
"By his own words is he convicted of disbelief in the most holy Catholic
faith," said the grand inquisitor. "But I find, by a memorial which was
addressed to me many mouths ago--indeed, very shortly after the arrest
of this miserable unbeliever--and signed by Manuel Marquis of Orsini,
that the said marquis hath important evidence to give on behalf of the
Jew. Now, though Manuel d'Orsini be himself a prisoner of the holy
office, yet as he hath not yet been judged, he is a competent witness."
Orders were then given to introduce the marquis; and Isaachar ben
Solomon murmured to himself, "Is it possible that the young man can have
felt sympathy for me? Ah, then I was not mistaken in him; in spite of
his dissipation and his wildness he possesses a generous heart."
In a few minutes the Marquis of Orsini was led into the judgment-hall.
He was chained;--but he carried his head erect--and, though his
countenance was pale and careworn, his spirit was not crushed. He bowed
respectfully, but not cringingly, to the grand inquisitor, and bestowed
a friendly nod of recognition upon the Jew.
"This memorial, dated in the month of March last, was signed by you?"
said the grand inquisitor interrogatively, as he displayed a paper to
the marquis.
"That memorial was signed by me," answered Orsini, in a firm tone, "and
I rejoice that your eminence has at length granted me an opportunity of
explaining the matter hinted at therein. Your eminence sits there, it is
presumed, to administer justice; then let justice be done toward this
innocent man--albeit that he is a Jew--for solemnly do I declare that
the blood which stained the floor in Isaachar's house flowed from my
right arm. And it may not be amiss to observe," continued the marquis,
"that the worthy Jew there did not only bind the wound for me with as
much care as if I myself had been an Israelite, or he a Christian--but
he moreover offered me the aid of his purse; and therefore am I under
obligations to him which I can never wholly discharge. In good sooth, my
lord," added Manuel, in whom neither a lengthened imprisonment nor the
awful solemnity of the present scene could entirely subdue the flippancy
which was habitual to his speech,--"in good sooth, my lord, he is a
splendid specimen of a Jew--and I pray your eminence to discharge him
forthwith."
"This levity ill becometh you, Manuel d'Orsini," said the grand
inquisitor; "for you yourself are in terrible danger."
Then, upon a signal given, the familiars conveyed the marquis back to
his dungeon: but ere he left the judgment-hall, he had the satisfaction
of beholding the Jew's eyes fixed upon him with an expression of
boundless gratitude and deep sympathy. Tears, too, were trickling down
the cheeks of the Israelite: for the old man thought within himself,
"What matters it if the rack dislocate my limbs? But it is shocking--oh!
it is shocking to reflect that thy fellow-creatures, noble youth, shall
dare to deface and injure that godlike form of thine!"
"Jew," suddenly exclaimed the grand inquisitor, "I put no faith in the
testimony of the witness who has just appeared in thy favor. Confess thy
sins--avow openly that thou hast murdered Christian children to obtain
their blood for use in thy sacrifices--and seek forgiveness from Heaven
by embracing the faith of Jesus!"
The unhappy Israelite was so appalled by the open, positive, and
undisguised manner in which an atrocious charge was revived against him,
that he lost all power of utterance, and stood stupefied and aghast.
"Away with him to the torture-chamber!" cried the grand inquisitor, in a
stern and remorseless tone.
"Monster!" exclaimed the Jew, suddenly recovering his speech, as that
dreadful mandate warned him that he would now require all his
energy--all his presence of mind:--"monster!" he repeated, in a voice
indicative of loathing and contempt;--"and thou art a Christian!"
The familiars hurried Isaachar away to the torture-chamber, which, as we
before stated, opened upon the tribunal. And terrible, indeed, was the
appearance of that earthly hell--that terrestrial hades, invented by
fiends in human shape--that den of horrors constituting, indeed, a
fitting foretaste of trans-stygian torment! The grand inquisitor
followed the victim and the familiars into this awful place: and, on a
signal being given by that high functionary, Isaachar was stripped of
all his upper clothing, and stretched on the accursed rack. Then
commenced the torture--the agonizing torture by means of that infernal
instrument, a torture which dislocated the limbs, appeared to tear the
members asunder, and produced sensations as if all the nerves of the
body were suddenly being drawn out through the brain.
"Dost thou confess? and wilt thou embrace the Christian faith?" demanded
the grand inquisitor from time to time.
"I have nothing to confess--I will not renounce the creed of my
forefathers!" answered Isaachar in a tone of bitter agony, as he writhed
upon the rack, while every fresh shock and jerk of the infernal engine
seemed as if it would tear the very life out of him. But the old man
remained firm in the declaration of his innocence of the dreadful crime
imputed to him: stanch also to his creed did he remain; and having
endured the full extent of that special mode of torture, he was borne
back to his dungeon, cruelly injured, with dislocated limbs, blood
streaming from his mouth and nostrils, and these terrible words of the
grand inquisitor ringing in his ears--"Obstinate and impenitent one,
Satan claims thee as his own; therefore art thou condemned to death by
fire at the approaching _auto de-fe_!"
Half an hour afterward another human being lay stretched upon that
accursed rack, and agonizing--oh! most agonizing were the female shrieks
and rending screams which emanated from the lips of the tortured victim,
but which reached not beyond the solid masonry of those walls and the
massive iron-plated door. The white and polished arms were stretched out
in a position fearfully painful beyond the victim's head, and the wrists
were fastened to a steel bar by means of a thin cord, which cut through
flesh, muscle and nerve to the very bone! The ankles were attached in a
similar manner to a bar at the lower end of the rack, and thus from the
female's hands and feet thick clots of gore fell on the stone pavement.
But even the blood flowed not so fast from her lacerated limbs as
streamed the big drops of agony from her distorted countenance--that
countenance erst so beautiful, and so well beloved by thee, Manuel
d'Orsini! For, oh! upon that rack lay stretched the fair and half-naked
form of Giulia of Arestino, its symmetry convulsing in matchless
tortures, the bosom palpitating awfully with the pangs of that earthly
hell, and the exquisitely-modeled limbs enduring all the hideous pains
of dislocation, as if the fibers that held them in their sockets were
drawn out to a tension at which they must inevitably snap in halves!
But who gazes on that awful spectacle? whose ears drink in those
agonizing screams, as if they made a delicious melody? With folded arms,
compressed lips, and remorseless, though ashy pale countenance, the old
Lord of Arestino stands near the rack; and if his eyes can for a moment
quit that feast which they devour so greedily, it is but to glance with
demoniac triumph toward Manuel d'Orsini, whom an atrocious refinement of
cruelty, suggested by the vengeful count himself, has made a spectator
of that appalling scene! And terrible are the emotions which rend the
heart of the young marquis! But he is powerless--he cannot stretch forth
a hand to save his mistress from the hellish torments which she is
enduring, nor can he even whisper a syllable to inspire her with courage
to support them. For he is bound tightly--the familiars, too, have him
in their iron grasp, and he is gagged! Nevertheless he can see, and he
can hear; he can behold the rending tortures of the rack--and he is
compelled to listen to the piercing screams which the victim sends
forth. If he close his eyes upon the horrible spectacle, imagination
instantly makes it more horrible even still; and, moreover, in the true
spirit of a chivalrous heart, he seeks by the tenderness of his glances
to impart at least a gleam of solace to the soul of her who has
undergone so much, and is suffering now so much more, through her fatal
love of him! The grand inquisitor, who is an intimate friend of the
Count of Arestino, ministers well and faithfully to the infernal
vengeance of that old Italian noble: for the remorseless judge urges on
the torturers to apply the powers of the rack to the fullest extent; and
while the creaking sound of wheels mingles with the cracking noise of
dislocating limbs, the Count of Arestino exclaims, "I was once humane
and benevolent, Giulia, but thy conduct has made me a fiend!"
"A fiend!" shrieked the tormented woman: "Oh! yes--yes--thou art a
fiend--a very fiend--I have wronged thee--but this vengeance is
horrible--mercy--mercy!--oh! for one drop of water--mercy--mercy!"
The rack gave the last shock of which its utmost power was capable--a
scream more dreadful, more agonizing, more piercing than any of its
predecessors, rent this time the very walls of the torture-chamber: and
with this last outburst of mortal agony, the spirit of the guilty Giulia
fled forever! Yet was not the vengeance of the Count of Arestino
satisfied; and the grand inquisitor was prepared to gratify the hellish
sentiment to the fullest extent. The still warm and palpitating corpse
of the countess was hastily removed from the rack: and the familiars
stripped--nay, tore off the clothing of Manuel d'Orsini. The countenance
of the young nobleman was now terribly somber, as if the darkest
thoughts were occupying his inmost soul, and his eyes were bent fixedly
on the dreadful engine, to the tortures of which it appeared to be his
turn to submit.
The familiars, in order to divest him of his garments, and also to
stretch him in such a way on the rack that his arms might be fastened
over his head to the upper end of that instrument, had removed the
chains and cords which had hitherto bound him. And now the fatal moment
seemed to be at hand, and the familiars already grasped him rudely to
hurl him on the rack, when, as if suddenly inspired by a superhuman
strength, the young nobleman dashed the men from him; then, with
lightning speed, he seized a massive iron bar that was used to move the
windlass of the rack, and in another instant, before a saving arm could
intervene, the deadly instrument struck down the Count of Arestino at
the feet of the grand inquisitor, who started back with a cry of horror!
The next moment the marquis was again powerless and secure in the grasp
of the familiars--but he had accomplished his purpose, he had avenged
his mistress and himself--and the old Lord of Arestino lay, with
shattered skull, a corpse upon the cold pavement of the torture-chamber!
"Back--back with the murderer to his dungeon!" exclaimed the grand
inquisitor, in a tone of fearful excitement and rage. "We must not
afford him a chance of dying upon that engine of torture. No--no: the
lingering flames of the _auto-da-fe_ are reserved for the Marquis
d'Orsini!"
And in pursuance of the sentence thus pronounced, Manuel was hurried
away to his dark and solitary cell, there to remain a prey to all the
dreadful thoughts which the occurrences of that fatal evening were so
well calculated to marshal in horrible array to his imagination.