Penny Dreadful Multipack Vol. 1 (Illustrated. Annotated. 'Wagner The Wehr-Wolf,' 'Varney The Vampire,' 'The Mysteries of London Vol. 1' + Bonus Features) (Penny Dreadful Multipacks) (53 page)

BOOK: Penny Dreadful Multipack Vol. 1 (Illustrated. Annotated. 'Wagner The Wehr-Wolf,' 'Varney The Vampire,' 'The Mysteries of London Vol. 1' + Bonus Features) (Penny Dreadful Multipacks)
13.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“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.”

Other books

The Two Admirals by James Fenimore Cooper
PS02 - Without Regret by R.L. Mathewson
In the Slammer With Carol Smith by Hortense Calisher
Spira Mirabilis by Aidan Harte
Rebels (John Bates) by Powell, Scott, Powell, Judith
Falling Star by Olivia Brynn
Arcadia by Jim Crace
Alien Assassin by T. R. Harris
In My Dreams by Renae, Cameo