CHAP. X. -Why is remembrance Rich with a thousand pleasing images Of past enjoyment, since 'tis but to plague me! ROWE. It is a strange disposed time; But men may construe things after their fashion, SHAKESPEARE. "JESU Maria!" shrieked Vannina," is it you, Signor? Oh, that dreadful, dreadful oratory!" clinging, pale and trembling, to the arm of Di Rinaldini. "It was but the night before my blessed lady died, I heard it, as it were, echo the word murder; and VOL. I. K to to-night, almost before she is seared in the tomb-" The thrilling chords of the organ again clashed, and Vannina sunk, horror-struck, cern. upon her knees. Impulsively Huberto darted across the oratory; he looked fearfully around, all was still; he drew aside the curtain, but no object could he dis"Mysterious Heaven!" he aspirated, bending his knee in pious reverence, "if, through the intricacy of thy wisdom, thou permittest the departed to revisit their mortal haunts; if, to arraign the guilty, or uphold the afflicted, the gentle spirit of my Adelheida lingers, teach me, enable me to remove the barrier of perturbed disquiet, to smooth the road to mercy!" Deep was the silence which succeeded. Huberto, with anticipating apprehension, listened, but the mysterious sounds were no more repeated; he heard nought, save the convulsive sobs of Vannina, whose superstitious terrors, amount ing ing to agony, called upon the exertions of compassion. Bred in the sombre gloom of fanatic strictness, where duty and example alike tended to enervate the mind, and jaundice it with the sickly hue of credulity, Vannina had oft conjured up the midnight spectre to haunt her solitude. Oft had she listened to the "legendary lore" of many a deathful tale, fraught with the traditionary horror of long-perpetrated murders; and, as the cricket chirped, or the night-watch ticked, crept closer to the side of her informer, fearful of beholding the airy semblance of bodies long entombed. Her heart was good, but her judgment weak: she had loved her departed mistress with a sister's fondness; but the mysterious close of the lady Adelheida's existence, and the incongruous horrors which succeeded, had tinged every sensation with superstitious dread. When, from necessity, she fled through the arched passages of Montranzo; when the wind whistled K 2 < whistled "music of the night, that makes the teeth chatter and the nails turn blue," the voice she had heard from the oratory seemed to echo from the darkened corners, confirming, to her panic-struck heart, the horror of her mistress's fate. "Too sure she was murdered!" she would exclaim; and then, trembling, hide her eyes, lest they should encounter a confirmation of her assertion. "Oh, take me hence!" she articulated, as Di Rinaldini kindly attempted to restore her to composure; "take me hence, Signor, or I shall die. The holy saints guard us!" crossing her bosom; " 'twas no fancy, 'twas the ghost!" "The ghost, Vannina! what ghost?" "How can you ask, Signor? you came from the oratory, you must have seen it." "Seen what? seen who?" demanded Huberto. "Weak girl, your woman's heart misgives you." "No, no, 'twas a requiem to my lady mistress; so melancholy, so solemn! She loved foved to chant with the organ, sweet soul! and her spectre--alas! alas! the murdered cannot rest in their graves." "The murdered, Vannina!" repeated the almost convulsed Di Rinaldini. "Murdered," lingered a hollow voice; and Vannina, shrieking, fled from the oratory. Huberto paused for a moment; a shuddering sensation pressed upon his heart, and his cheek grew pale with contending emotions; it was but for a moment; quickly regaining his self-command, he bent his knee before the altar, nor rose till piety had subdued every superstitious fear, every hostile weakness. The drear hours of night rolled on unbroken; the mysterious voice spoke no more; neither, from the slightest touch, did the organ send forth its tremulous vibrations: but the stream of sorrow was exhaustless; the drooping mourner revised the occurrences of the past week-the death of his Adel heida K 3 |