'Otto now succeeded to the Barony of Lindenberg. The murder was
attributed solely to the fugitive Nun, and no one suspected him
to have persuaded her to the action. But though his crime was
unpunished by Man, God's justice permitted him not to enjoy in
peace his blood-stained honours. Her bones lying still unburied
in the Cave, the restless soul of Beatrice continued to inhabit
the Castle. Drest in her religious habit in memory of her vows
broken to heaven, furnished with the dagger which had drank the
blood of her Paramour, and holding the Lamp which had guided her
flying steps, every night did She stand before the Bed of Otto.
The most dreadful confusion reigned through the Castle; The
vaulted chambers resounded with shrieks and groans; And the
Spectre, as She ranged along the antique Galleries, uttered an
incoherent mixture of prayers and blasphemies. Otto was unable
to withstand the shock which He felt at this fearful Vision:
Its horror increased with every succeeding appearance: His alarm
at length became so insupportable that his heart burst, and one
morning He was found in his bed totally deprived of warmth and
animation. His death did not put an end to the nocturnal riots.
The bones of Beatrice continued to lie unburied, and her Ghost
continued to haunt the Castle.
'The domains of Lindenberg now fell to a distant Relation. But
terrified by the accounts given him of the Bleeding Nun (So was
the Spectre called by the multitude), the new Baron called to his
assistance a celebrated Exorciser. This holy Man succeeded in
obliging her to temporary repose; But though She discovered to
him her history, He was not permitted to reveal it to others, or
cause her skeleton to be removed to hallowed ground. That Office
was reserved for you, and till your coming, her Ghost was doomed
to wander about the Castle and lament the crime which She had
there committed. However, the Exorciser obliged her to silence
during his lifetime. So long as He existed, the haunted chamber
was shut up, and the Spectre was invisible. At his death which
happened in five years after, She again appeared, but only once
on every fifth year, on the same day and at the same hour when
She plunged her Knife in the heart of her sleeping Lover: She
then visited the Cavern which held her mouldering skeleton,
returned to the Castle as soon as the Clock struck 'Two,' and was
seen no more till the next five years had elapsed.
'She was doomed to suffer during the space of a Century. That
period is past. Nothing now remains but to consign to the Grave
the ashes of Beatrice. I have been the means of releasing you
from your visionary Tormentor; and amidst all the sorrows which
oppress me, to think that I have been of use to you, is some
consolation. Youth, farewell! May the Ghost of your Relation
enjoy that rest in the Tomb, which the Almighty's vengeance has
denied to me for ever!'
Here the Stranger prepared to quit the apartment.
'Stay yet one moment!' said I; 'You have satisfied my curiosity
with regard to the Spectre, but you leave me in prey to yet
greater respecting yourself. Deign to inform me, to whom I am
under such real obligations. You mention circumstances long
past, and persons long dead: You were personally acquainted with
the Exorciser, who by your own account has been deceased near a
Century. How am I to account for this? What means that burning
Cross upon your forehead, and why did the sight of it strike
such horror to my soul?'
On these points He for some time refused to satisfy me. At
length overcome by my entreaties, He consented to clear up the
whole, on condition that I would defer his explanation till the
next day. With this request I was obliged to comply, and He left
me. In the Morning my first care was to enquire after the
mysterious Stranger. Conceive my disappointment when informed
that He had already quitted Ratisbon. I dispatched messengers in
pursuit of him but in vain. No traces of the Fugitive were
discovered. Since that moment I never have heard any more of
him, and 'tis most probable that I never shall.'
(Lorenzo here interrupted his Friend's narrative.
'How?' said He; 'You have never discovered who He was, or even
formed a guess?'
'Pardon me,' replied the Marquis; 'When I related this adventure
to my Uncle, the Cardinal-Duke, He told me that He had no doubt
of this singular Man's being the celebrated Character known
universally by the name of 'the wandering Jew.' His not being
permitted to pass more than fourteen days on the same spot, the
burning Cross impressed upon his forehead, the effect which it
produced upon the Beholders, and many other circumstances give
this supposition the colour of truth. The Cardinal is fully
persuaded of it; and for my own part I am inclined to adopt the
only solution which offers itself to this riddle. I return to
the narrative from which I have digressed.')
From this period I recovered my health so rapidly as to astonish
my Physicians. The Bleeding Nun appeared no more, and I was soon
able to set out for Lindenberg. The Baron received me with open
arms. I confided to him the sequel of my adventure; and He was
not a little pleased to find that his Mansion would be no longer
troubled with the Phantom's quiennial visits. I was sorry to
perceive that absence had not weakened Donna Rodolpha's
imprudent passion. In a private conversation which I had with
her during my short stay at the Castle, She renewed her attempts
to persuade me to return her affection. Regarding her as the
primary cause of all my sufferings, I entertained for her no
other sentiment than disgust. The Skeleton of Beatrice was found
in the place which She had mentioned. This being all that I
sought at Lindenberg, I hastened to quit the Baron's domains,
equally anxious to perform the obsequies of the murdered Nun, and
escape the importunity of a Woman whom I detested. I departed,
followed by Donna Rodolpha's menaces that my contempt should not
be long unpunished.
I now bent my course towards Spain with all diligence. Lucas
with my Baggage had joined me during my abode at Lindenberg. I
arrived in my native Country without any accident, and
immediately proceeded to my Father's Castle in Andalusia. The
remains of Beatrice were deposited in the family vault, all due
ceremonies performed, and the number of Masses said which She had
required. Nothing now hindered me from employing all my
endeavours to discover the retreat of Agnes. The Baroness had
assured me that her Niece had already taken the veil: This
intelligence I suspected to have been forged by jealousy, and
hoped to find my Mistress still at liberty to accept my hand. I
enquired after her family; I found that before her Daughter could
reach Madrid, Donna Inesilla was no more: You, my dear Lorenzo,
were said to be abroad, but where I could not discover: Your
Father was in a distant Provinc
e on a visit to the Duke de
Medina, and as to Agnes, no one could or would inform me what was
become of her. Theodore, according to promise, had returned to
Strasbourg, where He found his Grandfather dead, and Marguerite
in possession of his fortune. All her persuations to remain with
her were fruitless: He quitted her a second time, and followed
me to Madrid. He exerted himself to the utmost in forwarding my
search: But our united endeavours were unattended by success.
The retreat, which concealed Agnes remained an impenetrable
mystery, and I began to abandon all hopes of recovering her.
About eight months ago I was returning to my Hotel in a
melancholy humour, having past the evening at the Play-House.
The Night was dark, and I was unaccompanied. Plunged in
reflections which were far from being agreeable, I perceived not
that three Men had followed me from the Theatre; till, on turning
into an unfrequented Street, they all attacked me at the same
time with the utmost fury. I sprang back a few paces, drew my
sword, and threw my cloak over my left arm. The obscurity of the
night was in my favour. For the most part the blows of the
Assassins, being aimed at random, failed to touch me. I at
length was fortunate enough to lay one of my Adversaries at my
feet; But before this I had already received so many wounds, and
was so warmly pressed, that my destruction would have been
inevitable, had not the clashing of swords called a Cavalier to
my assistance. He ran towards me with his sword drawn: Several
Domestics followed him with torches. His arrival made the combat
equal: Yet would not the Bravoes abandon their design till the
Servants were on the point of joining us. They then fled away,
and we lost them in the obscurity.
The Stranger now addressed himself to me with politeness, and
enquired whether I was wounded. Faint with the loss of blood, I
could scarcely thank him for his seasonable aid, and entreat him
to let some of his Servants convey me to the Hotel de las
Cisternas. I no sooner mentioned the name than He profest
himself an acquaintance of my Father's, and declared that He
would not permit my being transported to such a distance before
my wounds had been examined. He added that his House was hard
by, and begged me to accompany him thither. His manner was so
earnest, that I could not reject his offer, and leaning upon his
arm, a few minutes brought me to the Porch of a magnificent
Hotel.
On entering the House, an old grey-headed Domestic came to
welcome my Conductor: He enquired when the Duke, his Master,
meant to quit the Country, and was answered that He would remain
there yet some months. My Deliverer then desired the
family Surgeon to be summoned without delay. His orders were
obeyed. I was seated upon a Sopha in a noble apartment; and my
wounds being examined, they were declared to be very slight. The
Surgeon, however, advised me not to expose myself to the
night air; and the Stranger pressed me so earnestly to take a bed
in his House, that I consented to remain where I was for the
present.
Being now left alone with my Deliverer, I took the opportunity of
thanking him in more express terms, than I had done hitherto:
But He begged me to be silent upon the subject.
'I esteem myself happy,' said He, 'in having had it in my power
to render you this little service; and I shall think myself
eternally obliged to my Daughter for detaining me so late at the
Convent of St. Clare. The high esteem in which I have ever held
the Marquis de las Cisternas, though accident has not permitted
our being so intimate as I could wish, makes me rejoice in the
opportunity of making his Son's acquaintance. I am certain that
my Brother in whose House you now are, will lament his not being
at Madrid to receive you himself: But in the Duke's absence I am
Master of the family, and may assure you in his name, that every
thing in the Hotel de Medina is perfectly at your disposal.'
Conceive my surprize, Lorenzo, at discovering in the person of my
Preserver Don Gaston de Medina: It was only to be equalled by my
secret satisfaction at the assurance that Agnes inhabited the
Convent of St. Clare. This latter sensation was not a little
weakened, when in answer to my seemingly indifferent questions He
told me that his Daughter had really taken the veil. I suffered
not my grief at this circumstance to take root in my mind: I
flattered myself with the idea that my Uncle's credit at the
Court of Rome would remove this obstacle, and that without
difficulty I should obtain for my Mistress a dispensation from
her vows. Buoyed up with this hope I calmed the uneasiness of my
bosom; and I redoubled my endeavours to appear grateful for the
attention and pleased with the society of Don Gaston.
A Domestic now entered the room, and informed me that the Bravo
whom I had wounded discovered some signs of life. I desired
that He might be carried to my Father's Hotel, and that as soon
as He recovered his voice, I would examine him respecting his
reasons for attempting my life. I was answered that He was
already able to speak, though with difficulty: Don Gaston's
curiosity made him press me to interrogate the Assassin in his
presence, but this curiosity I was by no means inclined to
gratify. One reason was, that doubting from whence the blow
came, I was unwilling to place before Don Gaston's eyes the guilt
of a Sister: Another was, that I feared to be recognized for
Alphonso d'Alvarada, and precautions taken in consequence to keep
me from the sight of Agnes. To avow my passion for his Daughter,
and endeavour to make him enter into my schemes, what I knew of
Don Gaston's character convinced me would be an imprudent step:
and considering it to be essential that He should know me for no
other than the Conde de las Cisternas, I was determined not to
let him hear the Bravo's confession. I insinuated to him, that
as I suspected a Lady to be concerned in the Business, whose name
might accidentally escape from the Assassin, it was necessary for
me to examine the Man in private. Don Gaston's delicacy would
not permit his urging the point any longer, and in consequence
the Bravo was conveyed to my Hotel.
The next Morning I took leave of my Host, who was to return to
the Duke on the same day. My wounds had been so trifling that,
except being obliged to wear my arm in a sling for a short time,
I felt no inconvenience from the night's adventure. The Surgeon
who examined the Bravo's wound declared it to be mortal: He had
just time to confess that He had been instigated to murder me by
the revengeful Donna Rodolpha, and expired in a few minutes
after.
All my thoughts were now bent upon getting to the speech of my
lovely Nun. Theodore set himself to work, and for this time with
better success. He attacked the Gardener of St. Clare so
forcibly with bribes and promises that the Old Man wa
s entirely
gained over to my interests; and it was settled that I should be
introduced into the Convent in the character of his Assistant.
The plan was put into execution without delay. Disguised in a
common habit, and a black patch covering one of my eyes, I was
presented to the Lady Prioress, who condescended to approve of
the Gardener's choice. I immediately entered upon my employment.
Botany having been a favourite study with me, I was by no means
at a loss in my new station. For some days I continued to work
in the Convent Garden without meeting the Object of my disguise:
On the fourth Morning I was more successful. I heard the voice
of Agnes, and was speeding towards the sound, when the sight of
the Domina stopped me. I drew back with caution, and concealed
myself behind a thick clump of Trees.
The Prioress advanced and seated herself with Agnes on a Bench
at no great distance. I heard her in an angry tone blame her
Companion's continual melancholy: She told her that to weep the
loss of any Lover in her situation was a crime; But that to weep
the loss of a faithless one was folly and absurdity in the
extreme. Agnes replied in so low a voice that I could not
distinguish her words, but I perceived that She used terms of
gentleness and submission. The conversation was interrupted by
the arrival of a young Pensioner who informed the Domina that
She was waited for in the Parlour. The old Lady rose, kissed the
cheek of Agnes, and retired. The newcomer remained. Agnes spoke
much to her in praise of somebody whom I could not make out, but
her Auditor seemed highly delighted, and interested by the
conversation. The Nun showed her several letters; the Other
perused them with evident pleasure, obtained permission to copy
them, and withdrew for that purpose to my great satisfaction.
No sooner was She out of sight, than I quitted my concealment.
Fearing to alarm my lovely Mistress, I drew near her gently,
intending to discover myself by degrees. But who for a moment
can deceive the eyes of love? She raised her head at my
approach, and recognised me in spite of my disguise at a single
glance. She rose hastily from her seat with an exclamation of
surprize, and attempted to retire; But I followed her, detained
her, and entreated to be heard. Persuaded of my falsehood She
refused to listen to me, and ordered me positively to quit the
The Monk - A Romance Page 20