Wagner, the Wehr-Wolf. George W. M. Reynolds

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СКАЧАТЬ last long; the natural energy of her character speedily asserted its empire over the intellectual lethargy which had seized upon her, and, awakening from her stupor, she resolved to waste not another instant in useless conjecture as to the cause of her lover’s conduct.

      Hastening to her own apartments, she dismissed Flora Francatelli, whom she found there, with an abruptness of gesture and a frowning expression of countenance amounting to an act of cruelty toward that resigned and charming girl; so that as the latter hastened from the room, tears started from her eyes, and she murmured to herself, “Can it be possible that Donna Nisida suspects the attachment her brother has formed toward me? Oh! if she do, the star of an evil destiny seems already to rule my horoscope!”

      Scarcely had Flora disappeared in this sorrowing manner, when Nisida secured the outer door of her own suit of apartments, and hurried to her bed-chamber. There she threw aside the garb belonging to her sex, and assumed that of a cavalier, which she took from a press opening with a secret spring. Then, having arranged her hair beneath a velvet tocque shaded with waving black plumes, in such a manner that the disguise was as complete as she could render it, she girt on a long rapier of finest Milan steel, and throwing the short cloak edged with costly fur, gracefully over her left shoulder, she quitted her chamber by a private door opening behind the folds of the bed curtains.

      A narrow and dark staircase admitted her into the gardens of the Riverola mansion. These she crossed with a step so light and free, that had it been possible to observe her in the darkness of the evening, she would have been taken for the most elegant and charming cavalier that ever honored the Florentine Republic with his presence.

      In about a quarter of an hour she reached the abode of Dr. Duras; but instead of entering it, she passed round one of its angles, and opening a wicket by means of a key which she had about her, gained access to the gardens in the rear of the mansion.

      She traversed these grounds with hasty steps, passing the boundary which separated them from the gardens of Wagner’s dwelling, and then relaxing her pace, advanced with more caution to the windows of this very apartment where Agnes had been so alarmed two months previously, by observing the countenance at the casement.

      But all was now dark within. Wagner was not in his favorite room—for Nisida knew that this was her lover’s favorite apartment.

      Perhaps he had not yet returned?

      Thus thought the lady; and she walked slowly round the spacious dwelling, which, like the generality of the patrician mansions of Florence in those times—as indeed is now the case to a considerable extent—stood in the midst of extensive gardens.

      There were lights in the servants’ offices; but every other room seemed dark. No; one window in the front, on the ground-floor, shone with the luster of a lamp.

      Nisida approached it, and beheld Agnes reclining in a pensive manner on a sofa in a small but elegantly-furnished apartment. Her countenance was immediately overclouded; and for an instant she lingered to gaze upon the sylph-like form that was stretched upon that ottoman. Then she hastily pursued her way; and, having perfected the round of the building, once more reached the windows of her lover’s favorite room.

      Convinced that he had not returned, and fearful of being observed by any of the domestics who might happen to pass through the gardens, Nisida retraced her way toward the dwelling of Dr. Duras. But her heart was now heavy, for she knew not how to act.

      Her original object was to obtain an interview with Wagner that very night, and learn, if possible, the reason of his extraordinary conduct toward her: for the idea of remaining in suspense for many long, long hours, was painful in the extreme to a woman of her excitable nature.

      She was, however, compelled to resign herself to this alternative; and, having let herself through the wicket belonging to the physician’s gardens, she directed her steps homeward.

      On her way she passed by the gate of the Convent of Carmelite Nuns—one of the wealthiest, most strictly disciplined, and celebrated monastic establishments in the Florentine Republic.

      It appeared that a sudden thought here struck her; for ascending to the steep leading to the gate, she paused beneath the lamp of the deep Gothic portico, took out her tablets, and hastily wrote the following words:

      “Donna Nisida of Riverola requests an interview with the Lady Abbess Maria to-morrow at midday, on a matter seriously regarding the spiritual welfare of a young female who has shown great and signal disregard for the rites and ordinances of the most Holy Catholic Church: and in respect to whom the most severe measures must be adopted. Donna Nisida will visit the holy mother to-morrow at midday.”

      Having written these words, Nisida tore off the leaf and thrust it through a small square grating set in the massive door of the convent. Then ringing the bell to call attention to the gate, she hastily pursued her way homeward.

      She had gained the gardens of the Riverola mansion, and was advancing toward the door of the private staircase leading to her chamber, when she suddenly perceived two dark figures standing within a few yards of her. Fearful that they might be domestics belonging to the household, she hastily and noiselessly retreated within the deep shade of the wall of the mansion, and there she remained motionless.

      We must now detail the conversation which passed between the two individuals whose presence in the garden had thus alarmed the Lady Nisida.

      “But are you sure of what you say, Antonio?” demanded one of the men.

      “By Saint Jacopo! I cannot be mistaken,” was the reply. “The closet has been locked up for years and years, and the old count always used to keep the keys in an iron chest, which was also carefully locked and chained round. What can the place possibly contain but a treasure?”

      “After all it is only conjecture on your part; and that being the case, it is not worth while to risk one’s life——”

      “You are a coward, Stephano!” exclaimed Antonio, angrily. “The closet has got a heavy, massive door, and a prodigiously strong lock; and if these precautions were not adopted to protect a hoard of wealth, why were they taken at all, let me ask you?”

      “There is something in what you say,” replied Stephano; “but you do wrong to call me a coward. If it were not that we were cousins, and linked by a bond of long maintained friendship, I would send my rapier through your doublet in a twinkling.”

      “Nay; I do not mean to anger thee, Stephano,” cried the valet. “But let us speak lower: chafe not, I pray thee!”

      “Well—well!” said the other, gloomily; “go on, in the name of your patron saint! Only keep a guard upon your tongue, for it wags somewhat too freely; and remember that a man who has been for fifteen years the captain of as gallant a band as ever levied contributions on the lieges of the republic, is not to have ‘coward’ thrown in his teeth.”

      “Let it pass, good Stephano!” urged the valet. “I tell thee that a closet whereof I have spoken, can contain naught save a treasure—perhaps in gold—perhaps in massive plate.”

      “We can dispose of either to our advantage,” observed the bandit, with a coarse chuckle.

      “Will you undertake the business?” demanded Antonio.

      “I will,” was the resolute answer; “and as much to convince you that Stephano is not a coward, as for any other reason. But when is it to be done? and why did you make an appointment to meet me here, of all places in Florence?”

      “It СКАЧАТЬ