the Castle rung with oaths and execrations: A Moment after She
repeated her Paternoster: Now She howled out the most horrible
blasphemies, and then chaunted De Profundis, as orderly as if
still in the Choir. In short She seemed a mighty capricious
Being: But whether She prayed or cursed, whether She was impious
or devout, She always contrived to terrify her Auditors out of
their senses. The Castle became scarcely habitable; and its Lord
was so frightened by these midnight Revels, that one fine morning
He was found dead in his bed. This success seemed to please the
Nun mightily, for now She made more noise than ever. But the
next Baron proved too cunning for her. He made his appearance
with a celebrated Exorciser in his hand, who feared not to shut
himself up for a night in the haunted Chamber. There it seems
that He had an hard battle with the Ghost, before She would
promise to be quiet. She was obstinate, but He was more so, and
at length She consented to let the Inhabitants of the Castle take
a good night's rest. For some time after no news was heard of
her. But at the end of five years the Exorciser died, and then
the Nun ventured to peep abroad again. However, She was now
grown much more tractable and well-behaved. She walked about in
silence, and never made her appearance above once in five years.
This custom, if you will believe the Baron, She still continues.
He is fully persuaded, that on the fifth of May of every fifth
year, as soon as the Clock strikes One, the Door of the haunted
Chamber opens. (Observe, that this room has been shut up for
near a Century.) Then out walks the Ghostly Nun with her Lamp
and dagger: She descends the staircase of the Eastern Tower;
and crosses the great Hall! On that night the Porter always
leaves the Gates of the Castle open, out of respect to the
Apparition: Not that this is thought by any means necessary,
since She could easily whip through the Keyhole if She chose it;
But merely out of politeness, and to prevent her from making her
exit in a way so derogatory to the dignity of her Ghost-ship.'
'And whither does She go on quitting the Castle?'
'To Heaven, I hope; But if She does, the place certainly is not
to her taste, for She always returns after an hour's absence.
The Lady then retires to her chamber, and is quiet for another
five years.'
'And you believe this, Agnes?'
'How can you ask such a question? No, no, Alphonso! I have too
much reason to lament superstition's influence to be its Victim
myself. However I must not avow my incredulity to the Baroness:
She entertains not a doubt of the truth of this History. As to
Dame Cunegonda, my Governess, She protests that fifteen years ago
She saw the Spectre with her own eyes. She related to me one
evening how She and several other Domestics had been terrified
while at Supper by the appearance of the Bleeding Nun, as the
Ghost is called in the Castle: 'Tis from her account that I drew
this sketch, and you may be certain that Cunegonda was not
omitted. There She is! I shall never forget what a passion She
was in, and how ugly She looked while She scolded me for having
made her picture so like herself!'
Here She pointed to a burlesque figure of an old Woman in an
attitude of terror.
In spite of the melancholy which oppressed me, I could not help
smiling at the playful imagination of Agnes: She had perfectly
preserved Dame Cunegonda's resemblance, but had so much
exaggerated every fault, and rendered every feature so
irresistibly laughable, that I could easily conceive the Duenna's
anger.
'The figure is admirable, my dear Agnes! I knew not that you
possessed such talents for the ridiculous.'
'Stay a moment,' She replied; 'I will show you a figure still
more ridiculous than Dame Cunegonda's. If it pleases you, you
may dispose of it as seems best to yourself.'
She rose, and went to a Cabinet at some little distance.
Unlocking a drawer, She took out a small case, which She opened,
and presented to me.
'Do you know the resemblance?' said She smiling.
It was her own.
Transported at the gift, I pressed the portrait to my lips with
passion: I threw myself at her feet, and declared my gratitude
in the warmest and most affectionate terms. She listened to me
with complaisance, and assured me that She shared my sentiments:
When suddenly She uttered a loud shriek, disengaged the hand
which I held, and flew from the room by a door which opened to
the Garden. Amazed at this abrupt departure, I rose hastily from
my knees. I beheld with confusion the Baroness standing near me
glowing with jealousy, and almost choaked with rage. On
recovering from her swoon, She had tortured her imagination to
discover her concealed Rival. No one appeared to deserve her
suspicions more than Agnes. She immediately hastened to find her
Niece, tax her with encouraging my addresses, and assure herself
whether her conjectures were well-grounded. Unfortunately She
had already seen enough to need no other confirmation. She
arrived at the door of the room at the precise moment, when Agnes
gave me her Portrait. She heard me profess an everlasting
attachment to her Rival, and saw me kneeling at her feet. She
advanced to separate us; We were too much occupied by each other
to perceive her approach, and were not aware of it, till Agnes
beheld her standing by my side.
Rage on the part of Donna Rodolpha, embarrassment on mine, for
some time kept us both silent. The Lady recovered herself first.
'My suspicions then were just,' said She; 'The Coquetry of my
Niece has triumphed, and 'tis to her that I am sacrificed. In
one respect however I am fortunate: I shall not be the only one
who laments a disappointed passion. You too shall know, what it
is to love without hope! I daily expect orders for restoring
Agnes to her Parents. Immediately upon her arrival in Spain, She
will take the veil, and place an insuperable barrier to your
union. You may spare your supplications.' She continued,
perceiving me on the point of speaking; 'My resolution is fixed
and immoveable. Your Mistress shall remain a close Prisoner in
her chamber till She exchanges this Castle for the Cloister.
Solitude will perhaps recall her to a sense of her duty: But to
prevent your opposing that wished event, I must inform you, Don
Alphonso, that your presence here is no longer agreeable either
to the Baron or Myself. It was not to talk nonsense to my Niece
that your Relations sent you to Germany: Your business was to
travel, and I should be sorry to impede any longer so excellent a
design. Farewell, Segnor; Remember, that tomorrow morning we
meet for the last time.'
Having said this, She darted upon me a look of pride, contempt,
and malice, and quitted the apartment. I also retired to mine,
and consumed the night in planning the means of rescuing Agnes
from the power
of her tyrannical Aunt.
After the positive declaration of its Mistress, it was impossible
for me to make a longer stay at the Castle of Lindenberg.
Accordingly I the next day announced my immediate departure. The
Baron declared that it gave him sincere pain; and He expressed
himself in my favour so warmly, that I endeavoured to win him
over to my interest. Scarcely had I mentioned the name of Agnes
when He stopped me short, and said, that it was totally out of
his power to interfere in the business. I saw that it was in
vain to argue; The Baroness governed her Husband with despotic
sway, and I easily perceived that She had prejudiced him against
the match. Agnes did not appear: I entreated permission to take
leave of her, but my prayer was rejected. I was obliged to
depart without seeing her.
At quitting him the Baron shook my hand affectionately, and
assured me that as soon as his Niece was gone, I might consider
his House as my own.
'Farewell, Don Alphonso!' said the Baroness, and stretched out
her hand to me.
I took it, and offered to carry it to my lips. She prevented me.
Her Husband was at the other end of the room, and out of hearing.
'Take care of yourself,' She continued; 'My love is become
hatred, and my wounded pride shall not be unatoned. Go where
you will, my vengeance shall follow you!'
She accompanied these words with a look sufficient to make me
tremble. I answered not, but hastened to quit the Castle.
As my Chaise drove out of the Court, I looked up to the windows
of your Sister's chamber. Nobody was to be seen there: I threw
myself back despondent in my Carriage. I was attended by no
other servants than a Frenchman whom I had hired at Strasbourg
in Stephano's room, and my little Page whom I before mentioned to
you. The fidelity, intelligence, and good temper of Theodore had
already made him dear to me; But He now prepared to lay an
obligation on me, which made me look upon him as a Guardian
Genius. Scarcely had we proceeded half a mile from the Castle,
when He rode up to the Chaise-door.
'Take courage, Segnor!' said He in Spanish, which He had already
learnt to speak with fluency and correctness. 'While you were
with the Baron, I watched the moment when Dame Cunegonda was
below stairs, and mounted into the chamber over that of Donna
Agnes. I sang as loud as I could a little German air well-known
to her, hoping that She would recollect my voice. I was not
disappointed, for I soon heard her window open. I hastened to
let down a string with which I had provided myself: Upon hearing
the casement closed again, I drew up the string, and fastened to
it I found this scrap of paper.'
He then presented me with a small note addressed to me. I opened
it with impatience: It contained the following words written in
pencil:
Conceal yourself for the next fortnight in some neighbouring
Village. My Aunt will believe you to have quitted Lindenberg,
and I shall be restored to liberty. I will be in the West
Pavilion at twelve on the night of the thirtieth. Fail not to be
there, and we shall have an opportunity of concerting our future
plans. Adieu. Agnes.
At perusing these lines my transports exceeded all bounds;
Neither did I set any to the expressions of gratitude which I
heaped upon Theodore. In fact his address and attention merited
my warmest praise. You will readily believe that I had not
entrusted him with my passion for Agnes; But the arch Youth had
too much discernment not to discover my secret, and too much
discretion not to conceal his knowledge of it. He observed in
silence what was going on, nor strove to make himself an Agent in
the business till my interests required his interference. I
equally admired his judgment, his penetration, his address, and
his fidelity. This was not the first occasion in which I had
found him of infinite use, and I was every day more convinced of
his quickness and capacity. During my short stay at Strasbourg,
He had applied himself diligently to learning the rudiments of
Spanish: He continued to study it, and with so much success that
He spoke it with the same facility as his native language. He
past the greatest part of his time in reading; He had acquired
much information for his Age; and united the advantages of a
lively countenance and prepossessing figure to an excellent
understanding and the very best of hearts. He is now fifteen; He
is still in my service, and when you see him, I am sure that He
will please you. But excuse this digression: I return to the
subject which I quitted.
I obeyed the instructions of Agnes. I proceeded to Munich.
There I left my Chaise under the care of Lucas, my French
Servant, and then returned on Horseback to a small Village about
four miles distant from the Castle of Lindenberg. Upon arriving
there a story was related to the Host at whose Inn I descended,
which prevented his wondering at my making so long a stay in his
House. The old Man fortunately was credulous and incurious: He
believed all I said, and sought to know no more than what I
thought proper to tell him. Nobody was with me but Theodore;
Both were disguised, and as we kept ourselves close, we were not
suspected to be other than what we seemed. In this manner the
fortnight passed away. During that time I had the pleasing
conviction that Agnes was once more at liberty. She past through
the Village with Dame Cunegonda: She seemed in health and
spirits, and talked to her Companion without any appearance of
constraint.
'Who are those Ladies?' said I to my Host, as the Carriage past.
'Baron Lindenberg's Niece with her Governess,' He replied; 'She
goes regularly every Friday to the Convent of St. Catharine, in
which She was brought up, and which is situated about a mile from
hence.'
You may be certain that I waited with impatience for the ensuing
Friday. I again beheld my lovely Mistress. She cast her eyes
upon me, as She passed the Inn-door. A blush which overspread
her cheek told me that in spite of my disguise I had been
recognised. I bowed profoundly. She returned the compliment by
a slight inclination of the head as if made to one inferior, and
looked another way till the Carriage was out of sight.
The long-expected, long-wished for night arrived. It was calm,
and the Moon was at the full. As soon as the Clock struck eleven
I hastened to my appointment, determined not to be too late.
Theodore had provided a Ladder; I ascended the Garden wall
without difficulty; The Page followed me, and drew the Ladder
after us. I posted myself in the West Pavilion, and waited
impatiently for the approach of Agnes. Every breeze that
whispered, every leaf that fell, I believed to be her footstep,
and hastened to meet her. Thus was I obliged to pass a full
hour, every minute of which appeared to me an age. The
Castle Bell at length tolled twelve, and sca
rcely could I believe
the night to be no further advanced. Another quarter of an hour
elapsed, and I heard the light foot of my Mistress approaching
the Pavilion with precaution. I flew to receive her, and
conducted her to a seat. I threw myself at her feet, and was
expressing my joy at seeing her, when She thus interrupted me.
'We have no time to lose, Alphonso: The moments are precious,
for though no more a Prisoner, Cunegonda watches my every step.
An express is arrived from my Father; I must depart immediately
for Madrid, and 'tis with difficulty that I have obtained a
week's delay. The superstition of my Parents, supported by the
representations of my cruel Aunt, leaves me no hope of softening
them to compassion. In this dilemma I have resolved to commit
myself to your honour: God grant that you may never give me
cause to repent my resolution! Flight is my only resource from
the horrors of a Convent, and my imprudence must be excused by
the urgency of the danger. Now listen to the plan by which I
hope to effect my escape.
'We are now at the thirtieth of April. On the fifth day from
this the Visionary Nun is expected to appear. In my last visit
to the Convent I provided myself with a dress proper for the
character: A Friend, whom I have left there and to whom I made
no scruple to confide my secret, readily consented to supply me
with a religious habit. Provide a carriage, and be with it at a
little distance from the great Gate of the Castle. As soon as
the Clock strikes 'one,' I shall quit my chamber, drest in the
same apparel as the Ghost is supposed to wear. Whoever meets me
will be too much terrified to oppose my escape. I shall easily
reach the door, and throw myself under your protection. Thus far
success is certain: But Oh! Alphonso, should you deceive me!
Should you despise my imprudence and reward it with ingratitude,
the World will not hold a Being more wretched than myself! I
feel all the dangers to which I shall be exposed. I feel that I
am giving you a right to treat me with levity: But I rely upon
your love, upon your honour! The step which I am on the point of
taking, will incense my Relations against me: Should you desert
me, should you betray the trust reposed in you, I shall have no
friend to punish your insult, or support my cause. On yourself
alone rests all my hope, and if your own heart does not plead in
The Monk - A Romance Page 16