Agnes, or, Beauty and Pleasure — page 76: what you’re looking at

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

SSS ss ss sss > 68 AGNES; OR, BEAUTY AND PLEASURE. soner! And the lady-captive too, by all that is fortunate !”’ he added, as his look travelled with lightning rapidity from the countenance of Charles in the midst of the sbirri, to the veiled and cloaked form of Ciprina inside the vehicle. A subdued moan indicated the despair of the young lady as she sank back in the chaise; while Charles De Vere knew not how to make another effort of any kind to save himself and Ciprina. Hasty explanations took place between the newly arrived sbirvo and the officials who were pre- viously on the spot—the result of which was that Charles in a few minutes found himself again seated by Ciprina’s side in the chaise. “To which place were you proceeding with the lady P” inquired one of the sbirri of the driver of the vehicle. “T was going to tske her to the next town, on the way to Bagno # “ Ab, Bagno!” ejaculated the official- whose arrival had so utterly defeated the last chance that remained for the unfortunate fugitives. ‘“ And did the signora say that she meant to proceed as far as Bagno P” “ Yes—and farther on still—into the Roman States, I believe,” was the response, “Ah, well! she will be so far gratified that she will presently see Bagno! And now drive on.” The chaise accordingly continued its way—the whole troop of sbir7t keeping guard over it, some riding on one side and some on the other. “ Madam,” said Charles, in a voice of the deepest-affliction, “1 must again repeat my sor- row that I should have become the cause of your recapture!” We should observe that he spoke now, as he had all along done, in the French language to Ciprina; for it was that which she herself had adopted when first he met her in the ante-room of her own suite of apartments at the Mirano mansion. “ Pray, sir,’ she responded, still maintaining a certain disguise in her voic¢é, and speaking in a low subdued tone,—“ pray, sir, I beseech you, re- proach not yourself! We are evidently the vic- tims of stars the most unlucky that ever ruled the destiny of mortals! But what meant the signifi- cant accent and leer with which that ruffian sbirro alluded just now to Bagno?” “ Alas, madam,” answered De Vere, “ Bagno is one of the Apennine fortresses in which Tuscan prisoners are confined !” “Heavens! And I who was rushing headiong into the lion’s mouth!” ejaculated Ciprina, “ But, good God! can our persecutors mean to imprison us for any length of time?” * Ah, madam,” interjected Charles, who from a generous feeling was naturally anxious to ab- stain from telling her the very worst,—“ it is use- less to waste time in speculation and conjecture. Let us talk of something else. There are certain explanations which you may possibly be enabled to give 2 “Oh! you mean to ask me,” interrupted Ci- prina, “whether I can tell you who is at the bottom of this odious proceeding, I have no doubt it was that vile woman, the living counter- part of that perished princess of infamous me- mory = “You mean the Marchioness of Mirano ?” said Charles. “Yes! I have heard that she exactly resembles all the known portraits of Lucrezia Borgia; and every circumstance now tends to prove that the resemblance is not merely confined to features and figure, but that the character is the same! Yes, madam, I had already conjectured nay, more, I had felt convinced that the in- stigatrix of the outrage whereof we are the vic- tims, was the Marchioness di Mirano! But how was it that at your mansion—beneath your roof— such an irruption of the myrmidons of the law could take place so unexpectedly and with such mysterious suddenness? Methinks I beheld the abrupt opening of a door in the midst of a wall where I had seen no traces of any door until that moment Ah!” ejaculated Charles, as a light seemed to flash in unto his brain; “ perhaps, after all, it was not I whom the police-officials purposed to arrestP It may have been M, Mar. cellin himself!” “‘Yes—there can be no doubt,” rejoined Ciprina, “that this idea on your part is the correct one, But I will tell you a little secret, Mr. De Vere— one that it is now ne longer of any use to con ceal i ““And that secret?” demanded our young hero hastily. “It was into the mansion of the Marchioness di Mirano that you were introduced last night i— it was within the walls of her palatial residence that we were both seized upon and carried off!” Charles De Vere was confounded at this piece of intelligence; and for nearly a minute he sat speechless with the astonishment which had seized upon him. ‘“Good heavens! mystery is piled upon mys- tery!” he at length ejaculated. ‘‘ You in the Mirano mansion! and yet not an accomplice in the odious treachery which has thus made mea prisoner, and which, whether intended for myself or another, is nevertheless hurrying me all the same toa fortress in the Apennines! And Edgar Marcellin too beneath that roof?—unless for any reason you deceived me y *“No—I did not deceive you,” responded Ci- prina; “and under all circumstances I pardon you the insult conveyed by the imputation. Edyar Marcellin was beneath that roof—is perhaps there now a “And you, lady—who are you?” demanded Charles De Vere. ‘“ At least there ought to be no longer any mystery on your part towards mes but, on the contrary, if you be really the friend of Marceilin—if you be an enemy of the Marchioness of Mirano “T am both!” interjected Ciprina. “I found an asylum with the Marchioness di Mirano=— Edgar Marcellin loved me ¥ ** And is he really ill?” demanded our hero. “He is wounded! The wretched Marchioness sought his life—and but for me he would have died! I deemed him safe in my suite of apart- ments—I considered myself so far safe likewise that Lucrezia di Mirano would never have recourse to any open violence: and as for entertaining an idea at all treacherous towards yourself, Mr. De Vere Oh, no! I was incapable of it!—believe me, I was incapable of it! But I did desire to keep my amour with Kdgar Marcellin un- known x book (©) |