The Circassian Chief: A Romance of Russia. Kingston William Henry Giles

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      For a moment, a gleam of satisfaction passed through the murderer’s bosom that his work was accomplished, and his reward gained; but an instant afterwards, and oh! for ten thousand worlds would none have exchanged the most wretched poverty for the feelings which possessed him. It was his first cold, deliberate, mercenary shedding of blood; he felt himself to be an accursed wretch on the earth.

      He could not fly, a fascination chained him to the spot; his fingers were clammy with blood, thick clotted to his dagger’s handle. He sought for a pool that he had stepped in near the spot; he tried to wash away the damning stains, but he knew that to be impossible.

      In the exciting moment of the murder, he had been thoughtless of the blood which flowed over him, but he now observed that he was covered with it. The rain again fell in torrents, he stood exposed to its fury, to let it wash away the stain. It revived him; his thoughts again returned to their accustomed channel. The recollection of the money, for which he had done the deed, recurred to him; avarice seized his heart, and he remembered that, perchance, the murdered man might have gold about him.

      He now neither trembled nor hesitated, as he felt about the body of his victim. With joy he clutched a purse, by the size and weight of which he knew it must contain gold; he felt in the breast, he drew from thence a packet of letters; a thought struck him that they might be of use to his master; he also possessed himself of watch and jewels. He was satisfied: no regret, no compunction for the deed oppressed him. His callous indifference had returned; an idea then occurred to him – horrid – diabolical. He searched around, to find some large stones, and with all his force he dashed one on the head of the murdered man; he seized another, and another, and hurled them with fury on the head of his victim, till he knew that every feature must be obliterated.

      Again the lightning flashed brightly, and shewed him his work. He gazed on the ghastly spectacle; the thunder rolled terrifically, and seemed about to cast its bolts on his head. Even the assassin, callous and hardy as he was, now trembled, he could stand no more, and fled hastily from his cursed work. On – on – he went, nor dared to look behind him, for he felt himself pursued by some phantom of tremendous, of horrid aspect. There was a weight at his breast, his brain burned; he longed to shriek, to give vent to his feelings; but his voice seemed choked, he could utter no sound. He felt a longing desire to rush into fierce strife, to find more and more to slay, more to destroy. He was like the tiger who has once tasted of blood; nothing could slake his thirst; blood – blood he longed for, and still he fled away from that he had first spilled; but he thought he could blot out, with fresh blood, the remembrance of that dreadful deed.

      He was flying on, a sort of brute instinct guiding his way, when he was called to his senses, by the loud challenge of a sentry from some government building. In a moment, he was again himself, the bold, careless ruffian; he answered calmly to the challenge, and was allowed to proceed onward; he drew his cloak closely around him, and walked towards the palace of his master, with a steady step; but it still required some exertion over his nerves, to prevent himself from rushing onward at his former pace.

      At length he reached the palace, and knocked at a side door, where Kruntz was in waiting for him. His fellow ruffian started, as holding up a light, he caught sight of his pale, haggard cheek, his starting eye, and the dark red stains with which, as his cloak fell off, his dress was besmeared.

      “What work hast thou been about now, Groff?” asked the man, “thou look’st like some wandering ghost.”

      “A butcher’s!” answered Groff, in a thick husky voice; “but ask me no questions. Where is our lord? I must see him directly; I have matters of importance to communicate.”

      “Would’st go to him in that pretty guise, friend?” said Kruntz; “truly it would please him much to see thee thus. Look at thyself in a glass, man, and thou would’st not much admire thine own countenance; if thou didst look always thus, thou would’st have but poor chance with the fair damsels thou seekest to captivate, and even men would be apt to shun thy company. I, for one, should not much like to be as near thee always as I now am. Get thee in, man, and change thy draggled garments.”

      “Aye, I forgot me,” answered Groff. “Say not a word, Kruntz, nor rouse the other knaves. I’ll go change these wet garments, and then present me to our Lord; here, give me thy lamp.”

      Thus saying, Groff seized the lamp from Kruntz’s hand, and turned the light away from himself. “Go, tell the Count, that I have returned and will give my news, when I am fit to appear before him.”

      While Kruntz went to report the return of Groff, the assassin hastened to throw off his blood-stained garments, which he carefully tied up in a bundle, and hid them away together with his dagger; then having washed all stains from his cheeks and hands, he presented himself before the Count Erintoff.

      He entered the room abruptly. “The deed is done which you required,” he said; “to-morrow morning the whole city will ring with it, and I may then claim my reward. I made sure work, and the youth will never more stand in your way.”

      “Good,” answered the Count, “you shall have your reward. Come to-morrow to claim it.”

      “It is well and hardly earned, let me say; and here is something that I found in the breast of the youth; these papers may give you some information,” said Groff.

      “Let me have them,” said the Count. “Is this all you found upon him, knave, eh?”

      “Nothing farther; I stayed not to search him,” answered the ruffian.

      “Well, well, it matters not,” said the Count; “leave me, I will examine these papers.”

      The murderer gladly withdrew from the presence of his instigator to crime, to join his companion, and to drown his conscience with wine; first examining and then carefully hiding the spoils he had taken from his victim.

      The Count, when left alone, eagerly tore open the papers he had received, though he shuddered as on the outer packet, he caught sight of the stains of blood; the blood of the youth he had so heartlessly, so revengefully consigned to an early death; but all thoughts of remorse for the deed were forgotten, as he glanced his eye over the documents. Some were in cypher, but others he perused with the deepest interest. As he read, he exclaimed aloud: “Ah, this is a fortunate discovery! How many do I now hold in my power! Ah, and you too! The man I hate! I shall be amply revenged on him! My fortune is on the ascendant! By Heavens! this information is worth a princedom to me! Ay, and I will gain it too! I would have sacrificed a thousand lives to have gained it! My revenge satisfied, now for love! Ah, beautiful but haughty girl, your lover dead, you will now become mine; you will soon willingly come to my arms. Fortunately, that villain cannot read, nor has he even looked at these papers; I must not let him guess at their contents, or he may make higher demands on me. I trust he has not kept back any other papers; but no, he has given these as my share, and has kept the youth’s gold, if he had any, to himself: – he is welcome to it. But if I give information of this affair, may I not be suspected of the murder? However, that matters nothing; the government will be too well pleased to gain the information, to inquire very minutely how I came by it, or, if they should, I may easily invent a tale to account for it. I must see to this.”

      Volume One – Chapter Twelve

      We must now turn our view to a chamber in the chateau of the Baron Galetzoff. It was furnished with heavy and old fashioned hangings which gave it a solemn and sombre air, increased by the windows being closed to exclude the glare of day; one stream of light alone entering through the curtains, and throwing a still darker shade into the rest of the room. Two female attendants stood by the side of a couch, on which reclined, now wan and emaciated, that unhappy and mysterious lady, whom Ivan had so short a time before left in health, and all the majesty СКАЧАТЬ