Agnes, or, Beauty and Pleasure — page 164: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

156 “ Where shall I put them, my lord?” inquired the domestic. ' Ramorino hastily reflected that there was a spy belonging to the French Embassy watching in the street; and for anything he knew to the contrary, there might also be spies posted by the Minister of the Interior in the neighbourhood, so that the movements of lLucrezia should be effectually watched. Now, for obvious reasons, it by no means suited Ramorino that it should become known that he was receiving or making away with any of the goods contained in the Mirano man- gion. “ You will not bring those pictures to the front gate at all,” he said to his confidential domestic ; “but you will take them round to the back en- trance — you will convey them up the private staircase—and you will place them in the room which is most convenient for their reception.” AGNES ; OB, BEAUTY AND PLEASURE, Ea aa _ was able, she said, “‘ Father Falconara is of course | welcome. But you, my husband—have you nothing to communicate ?” she demanded in a low whisper. “Nothing for the present,” he replied, some- what abruptly —but likewise speaking in a low tone. “See what this young priest wants with ou !” : With these words the Count of Ramorino quit- ted the apartment: Lucrezia and the ecclesiastic _ were left alone together. The lady bent her eyes earnestly and anxiously upon the pale handsome countenance of Father Falconara, as if to probe the very purposes of his soul ere he began to re- veal them; and she was struck by observing that it was with an air of mingled pity, surprise, and severity, all strangely blended together, that he gazed upon her. “What require you with me, holy father ?” she asked, and her mind was tortured with the most “Tt shall be done, my lord!” and the domestic | lancmating suspense. went forth from the Count’s presence. “Now,” thought Ramorino to himself, with * Lady,” said the priest, raising his right hand in a half warning, half adjuring manner, “I would exultation in his heart, “there may yet be safety | beseech you to reveal all your misdeeds! — not for me! self! ward off the shame that must more or less redound upon me But no! no!” he thus suddenly Yes—the storm will be averted from my-| merely to confess them unto me who am the Would that I could save Lucrezia also, to | minister of heaven, but to those who are the ministers of the earthly law!” “What mean you ?” asked Lucresia, in a faint interrupted himself in the current of his thoughts: | and almost dying tone; for she had not now the “no shame need redound upon myself! not boldly proclaim that when I espoused Lucrezia di Mirano it was in ignorance that she was stained with crime ?—yes, in ignorance that she was even suspected of it? Ah! there are yet many, many means by which my own position may possibly be rendered safe !” Just at the moment when the Minister of Police arrived at this reassuring climax in his thoughts, there was another ring at the gate of his mansion; azain he lingered to learn who might be calling at that late hour; and again he recognised the voice which was inquiring for him—for it was now the young priest Father Falconara. “What can he require ?” mentally ejaculated Ramorino. “ But I will see him.” Stepping forward accordingly, the Minister of Police invited Falconara to walk into the waiting- room; and when they were there together, he in- quired, “‘ What has brought your reverence hither again this night ?” ‘My lord,” replied Falconara, “I would fain speak to the lady that has become your wife.” “ Speak to Lucrezia ?” ejaculated Ramorino, surprised at the demand. “Yes, my lord,” answered Falconara solemnly ; “ an ecclesiastic may proffer such a request.” Ramorino hesitated for a few moments; and then suddenly making up his mind, he said, “ Yes —your reverence has that claim which every priest under certain circumstances may assert. You shall see her ladyship; follow me.” The Minister of Police accordingly led the way upstairs to the apartment where he had left his bride; and opening the door, he said, “ My dear Lucresia, this excellent young ecclesiastic who just now united our hands, craves a few minutes’ audience with you.” “Indeed!” exclaimed Lucrezia, who, as we have already said, beheld some fresh calamity in every new circumstance, even the most trivial ;—but in- stantaneously composing herself as well as she ee eee eee May I | courage to play a part of indignation or defiance. ‘© T mean, lady,” replied Faleonara, “ that your iniguities are great, and that they cry up to heaven itself for vengeance! I mean moreover that if I could have possibly suspected that you were the guilty being you are, I should not have ere now pronounced the marriage-benediction! For mar- riage is asacrament wherein only those who stand well with heaven and their own consciences, ought to be the partakers !” “Tell me at once what you mean, holy father P” murmured Lucrezia; “and [I shall know how to answer you. Qh, do not speak to me with severity ——"” “No, erring woman!” interrupted Falconara 3 “T speak to you with mercy and with compassion! It is my mission to absolve and to console — to pour balm into the wounds of the contrite heart, and to raise up the bruised spirit that is penitent !” The tears trickled down Lucresia’s countenance; and it was under the influence of some irresistible feeling now powerfully excited by the young priest’s words, that she sank down at his feet. “Oh, holy father,” she murmured, “I am very, very unhappy, and if would be impossible to deny that I have also been guilty of many misdeeds. And there is such kindness in your tone and look——”’ “ Alas, erring woman!” interrupted Father Fal- conara, “would that by my own wailings and sorrowings, or my own prayers and intercessions, I might be able to restore you to a state of inno- cence and happiness! But this may not be, Prayers must come from your own lips “Good heaven, what is he saying? and what am I doing?” murmured Lucrezia, pressing her hand to her feverish brows, and wondering whether she were awake or whether she were in the midst of a dream. “Am I betraying myself?” “Ab, lady!” responded Father Falconara, “ those self-condemnatory words were not requisite (© book (Q) 3