"It was one night, when I had fallen into a sleep much earlier than usual, that I thought a person approached me as I slept, and bade me to repair without delay to the castle of Elfinbach, for in that mansion the offspring of the unfortunate Conte della Care was receiving her education, and that it depended upon myself not only to reinstate her in the possessions of her ancestors, but to save her from misery and from death. This visionary address was so deeply impressed upon my mind, that it was long before I could recompose my spirits, or convince myself it was but a dream. At the same hour the next night the command was repeated; the same figure appeared to me again in the visions of my sleep, bidding me depart, and watch unobserved the movements of the present inhabitants of the castle; not openly to declare what I had been told, but to wait the effects of time, which would eventually unravel all. This repetition of the last night's adventure determined me to adhere to the advice delivered; and having procured the habit of a white Friar, the better to protect me from danger and impertinence, I commenced, in the character of a ghost, my nightly watchings. I soon, however, discovered means of informing Ambrose that I was mortal, and from him gained an accurate account of what was passing in the castle, and what had happened before I reached its boundaries. From what he affirmed, I had every reason to believe that my dream was founded on truth, though it was riot sufficient to lead to a certainty.
"To the chapel I had free access, continued the Monk, "at every hour of the night, and also to the burial-vault beneath, which I entered by means of an outward door opening behind the headless statue erected at the extremity, where I frequently spent some time in conversation with Ambrose, or, when alone, allowed myself the sad indulgence of weeping over the remains of my beloved Augusta, which were entombed in that place.
"When I beheld you, which was not, in spite of my utmost endeavours, till several weeks after my arrival, the resemblance you bore to your mother, convinced me you was her child; and thinking it necessary to warn you of your danger whilst in the power of the Marchese de Moutferrat, I delivered you her picture, and meant to have disclosed the secret of your birth, and then to have offered you my protection; but was prevented by the interference of Paoli and your sudden removal. Not knowing whither you was conveyed, till after the return of Ambrose, which did not happen till a considerable time afterwards, I suffered the most restless anxiety for your safety. His presence, however, when lie came to discharge the domestics, relieved me from apprehension, though the information he gave me determined me to go immediately in quest of you. Not knowing the exact situation of the castle in the principality of Saltzburg, I was obliged to repeat my inquiries; and being at first unsuccessful, was directed by chance, or rather by Providence, into the chapel of a forsaken abbey, which you afterwards entered, attended by a stranger of a dignified and amiable aspect, who proved to be the present Marchese. His presence prevented me from addressing you as I should otherwise have done; but by following you along the mountains, I had soon an opportunity of discovering your place of residence. After this event, I frequented the castle of Lunenburg as I had formerly done this, but without obtaining the accomplishment of my desires. Soon afterwards I learned from Ambrose, whom I largely rewarded for this intelligence, that you was sent into a convent on the borders of Italy, and that the Marchese had retired in extreme perturbation of spirits and distress of mind to the castle of Elfinbach. Knowing, if this was the ease, which I had no reason to doubt, that I might be enabled by some means, during your year of initiation, to contrive your escape, could I inform myself of your place of destination, I repaired again to this ancient and almost deserted mansion, entertaining some hopes that, with the assistance of Ambrose, I might repeat with success my supernatural appearances, and thus surprise and terrify the Marchese into confession; since it was now evident, from the whole of his conduct, that he had concealed, and usurped the rights of, a defenceless orphan. In this attempt I succeeded, and by the assistance of a trap-door, so artfully contrived as not to be perceived by the most careful observer, gained the interior of his apartment, and so well accommodated myself to his own guilty feelings, that the disorder of his mind hourly increased, and was followed by an alarming disease, attended with many dangerous symptoms. This occasioned him to send for a Confessor from the Carthusian monastery, that he might have an opportunity of unburthening his conscience.
"I was fortunately at the abbey of St Angelo at the time the message arrived, in the society of Father Benedicta, with whoni, under my assumed habit, I had accidentally formed a superficial acquaintance, and whose worth and goodness led me to esteem his character long before I was personally known to him. As to learn the substance of a confession, which appeared to promise much important information, was of the utmost consequence to my future interests, I formed the resolution of attending as Confessor, as I knew the severity of the ecclesiastical rules would effectually prevent my obtaining this knowledge, however necessary, by any other means. This induced me to make my intention known to Father Benedicta relative to my plan of personating a Carthusian, though without disclosing to him that I was not really a Friar; and with some difficulty, after making my reasons partly known, prevailed upon him to supply me with a habit of the order.
As the Marchese had not signified a desire that any particular Friar should attend, I was readily admitted, and soon learned the cause of his remorse; but the purport of this singular confession I consider myself as bound, by the strictest ties of religion, as well as of honour, strictly to conceal, and should consider myself as culpable by the laws of justice, if I suffered myself to reveal it, as if I had taken the indissoluble oath administered in the period of initiation, which binds to eternal secrecy as to the nature of confessions.
"When the Marchese had completely unburthened his conscience, which was not till my third visit, and it was proved, after the arrival of the Conte della Croisse, that you was in a place of security, which appeared to take a considerable weight from his heart, I sent one of the brotherhood to bestow absolution, not being empowered to perform this ceremony myself, to whom also the substance of the confession was repeated in the same manner as before, though from the appearance of the Monk, which perfectly corresponded with my own, the Marchese was not conscious of the deception.
"As soon as these ceremonies were properly adjusted, I informed Father Benedicta of the artifice I had employed; and having thrown aside the habit I had formerly worn, substituted that adopted by the Carthusiaris; and entering juto the convent of St Angelo, agreeable to mv former intention, took the name of Father Andrea.
"With all the rest, my dear child," rejoined the Monk, "you are already acquainted. I have now related to you all the material mcidents of my past life, which for many years has been marked with severe misfortune; but Heaven, in your preservation and happiness, has bestowed some sweeteners of my melancholy existence, and I receive them with gratitude."
CHAPTER XII
Swift o'er the lyre's harmonious strings
His magic hand the minstrel flings;
Obedient to the sprightly sound
The dancers' quivering feet rebound:
Diffusing wide their silver rays.
Aloft the sparkling lustres blare:
While milder emanations flow
From love-enkindling orbs below.
-SALMAGUNDI
The Marchesa and Laurette did not neglect, amid the newly-acquired happiness that surrounded them, to visit their amiable acquaintance, the Abbess of the Order of Penitents, who received them with every proof of the sincerest affection. To her society they devoted many of the intervening hours passed in the absence of Enrico and his venerable friend, finding in her conversation all that elegance of expression, and delicacy of sentiment, which rendered her as charming as respectable, even in the midst of age and infirmities.
It was now the latter end of May, and the season remarkably fine. The groves and the woods were again clothed in the most delightful verdure, whilst the hedgerows, which displayed that lux
uriance of foliage ever perceptible in this fertile country, were now beautifully embroidered with honeysuckles, and overhung with the blushing wreaths of the rosa canina; all Nature seemed to have awakened to joy and harmony! With what emotions of delight did Laurette now wander along the borders of that river, whose bank had formerly been the scene of infant pastime, recalling fondly to her recollection the years that were past, and alternately weeping and smiling at the vicissitudes of fortune! How charming was it to bring back, with the aid of memory, every interesting event in that uninformed period of existence, when hope revelled in the heart unchecked by disappointment, and joy suffered no decrease from gloomy retrospection! It was after one of these sweet lonely excursions, which she had commenced in the absence of the Marchesa, who had taken an early walk to the convent, that she observed at some distance four horsemen advancing towards the castle, which on a nearer view she discovered to be Enrico and the Conte della Croisse, attended by Anselmo and another of the domestics.
Tremblingly alive to every sensation of pleasure, she bounded swiftly from the mountains, and before the travellers alighted, arrived at the portico. As soon as Enrico observed her, his eyes beamed with inexpressible rapture, whilst love, in the most lively colours, was depicted on his countenance.
The usual expressions of congratulation on meeting again being over, which were accompanied, on the part of Enrico and Laurette, with those melting looks of unspeakable affection which lovers only understand, they were joined in the terrace-parlour by the Marchesa, and soon afterwards by the Signora d'Orfo.
When the travellers had partaken of a little refreshment, they were requested to relate the success of their journey, which, they soon convinced their hearers had been every way fortunate; since proofs of the legitimacy of Enrico's birth had appeared sufficient to silence the claim of any other person, should an attempt to discountenance the justice and truth of the fact be hereafter made.
"Yet my happiness is at present incomplete," cried Enrico, casting a look of tenderness upon the timid blushing Laurette; "will not she then, who has it exclusively in her power to bestow on me the felicity I ask, deign to confer it? Can she doubt the strength of my affection, or refuse to reward it, after having received so many testimonies of its permanency?"
"She does not mean to prevent, or even to procrastinate your happiness," replied the Marchesa. "She is above dissimulation; and as I have hitherto been allowed to influence her actions under the character of a preceptress, she will grant me the privilege of naming the day. Will you not, my lovely pupil," resumed the Marchesa, with a smile of ineffable tenderness, "give me this new proof of your dutiful acquiescence, the last I may have cause to demand?"
Laurette blushed deeply; and, having assured her beloved friend that any request of her's would have the force of a command, permitted her, after a little gentle reluctance, to name the same day on the following week.
Enrico's joy on this occasion could only discover itself in tears; every wish of his soul was gratified, and it now appeared impossible, to his delighted imagination, that sorrow could ever again become an inmate of his breast.
The week now passed rapidly towards the close, which was employed by the Marchesa and the Signora in preparing for the intended marriage, which was to be attended with all that diffusive hospitality, so strikingly exhibited in the character of the former, and which she had now the power, as well as the inclination, to display.
Enrico and Laurette, in the meantime, found an inexhaustible source of delight in traversing those sublimc and beautiful regions in which the castle was situated. The trackless mountain, whose rocky glens were encrusted with moss or enamelled with wildflowers; the impenetrable forest, sacred to the foot of the adventurer, were objects of curiosity and wonder, which they were never weary of contemplating or admiring, among which every day presented, from the variety of their productions, some new subject for investigation.
At last the long-expected day, which was to ratify these solemn vows already registered in heaven, arrived. The officiating priest was the Father Benedicta, who, at his own request, had the felicity of receiving the lovely bride at the hand of Father Andrea, in the chapel of the castle, by the name of Laurette Contessa della Cano, and of bestowing her upon Enrico Marchese de Montferrat.
The ceremony being performed in the morning, the remaining part of the day was dedicated to rural festivity; and every luxury was procured in honour of this event, that the country, within some leagues of the mansion, could afford. The nuptials were, indeed, not celebrated with the lofty appearance of courtly personages, as none, except the family at the castle, could boast of a noble origin; the rest of the company being composed of the tenantry and uninformed inhabitants of those humble cottages, which were—variously dispersed on the banks of the Rhine, who concluded the evening of this joyful day with a dance upon the lawn, to the lively notes of the guitar and the hautboy; each returning laden with presents to their homes, and pouring out blessings upon their hospitable entertainers.
Nothing could exceed the happiness of Father Andrea, when he beheld the felicity of his children thus hourly increasing. He seemed to have forgotten already all his sorrows, and looked up to Heaven with pious gratitude, which had thus recompensed his patience and sufferings, long after lie had ceased to expect a temporal reward.
Inured to solitude, and naturally attached to it, the young Marchesa never wished to stray beyond her native mountains; she had formed no ideas of happiness beyond them, and it was not without some reluctance that she quitted the castle of Elfinbach, the abode of her childhood, to repair to the mansion on the Saltzburg estate till the former one was rendered more habitable. This was, however, a necessary measure, as a considerable part of the fabric was so much decayed as to form but an uncomfortable asylum. On this expedition she was attended by the whole of the family, except the Conte della Croisse and the Fathers, as the former had determined upon visiting his daughter at Augsberg during their absence from the castle, and the Monks were obliged to remain in the convent of St Angelo.
In this modern and luxurious mansion, which to the elder Marchesa had all the charms of novelty to recommend it, they prolonged their stay till the castle of Elfinbach was made fit for their residence, which seemed, from having been long known as well as from the circumstance of its having been the seat of Father Andrea when dignified by the title of Baron Neuburg, and of the late Contessa della Caro, to have a prior claim to their regard. Laurette had already resolved to return to it, and quit it no more; and Enrico, whose every wish centered in her happiness, had adopted a similar resolution, being not less attached to it than the beautiful Marchesa.
During their continuance at the castle of Lunenburg, the generosity of this noble family was so unbounded, that on leaving it they were followed for a considerable way by a large number of the peasantry, who crowded about their carriages with tearful eyes, showering blessings upon them as they repeated their adieus. How delightful were these simple effusions of gratitude to those on whom they were bestowed! And who that has a mind capable of reflection, and a heart of feeling, would exchange those noble impulses of our nature, which direct us to acts of Godlike benevolence, for the chillness of unsocial grandeur? And how can it be truly estimated what they lose, who suffer themselves to be deluded into an opinion that the bold pre-eminence of rank and state can compensate for the absence of those amiable aflections, which teach us to conciliate and to deserve the love of others?
As the weather was more than usually favourable, they travelled leisurely towards the castle, Enrico and Laurette occupying one of the carriages, and the elder Marchesa and the Signora the other, frequently stopping, and sometimes alighting; when any thing particularly attracted their attention.
On the evening of the third day they arrived at the castle of Elfinbach, which wore a much more comfortable appearance than when they quitted it last. The rampart-walls, the turrets, and buttresses, were repaired, and the fallen fragments, which before were only partially remo
ved, were cleared from the courts, which, with the whole of the grounds, were new mown for their reception.
The Complete Northanger Horrid Novel Collection (9 Books of Gothic Romance and Horror) Page 375