Penny Dreadfuls, 1850 · page 160 of 400
The Bronze Statue, or, The Virgin's Kiss — page 160: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Penny Dreadfuls, 1850. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
- .-* we ‘ — ant ——— _— ~~ - «© ee ~~ - — bp ie Se a a Oem 6 ~~ ees — — wp - —? — a e. P =— = - “7? - yw 7 4 - - . a —_ = A OE ty A a Sere oe —— a ee - * — - —>- - [eee © % a” 7 * 3 - a * : 158 THE BRONZE STATUE, in the same manner as the bird or the | sage with which that door communicat- mouse is transfixed by the eyes of the serpent; but the armed men urged them on, and Hubert led the way along & marrow passage, then up a flight of granite steps, to a room of moderate di- mensions, where numerous jars, bottles, and implements stood upon a table. ‘This chamber was hastily traversed : another short, low, and vaulted passage was threaded, and a door admitted the party into a spacious place where the light of the lamp borne by Hubert brought out as it were from the dark- ness the gleaming outlines of a vast co- lossal figure ! Powers of heaven! with reeling brains and hearts that sickened as if the very life were shrinking from them, did the unhappy youths thus find themselves at length in the presence of the Bronze Statue ! With wild looks and choking accents did they endeavor to murmur a prayer the instant the conviction reached their souls that the giant-image was a repre- sentative of the Blessed Virgin; but the armed men forced them rudely away traverse the spacious apartment, and forced them to follow Hubert into a small circular chamber, where a block of granite served for a hassock in front of a crucifix standing in a niche. ‘ Kneel, young men—knee!l !’ said the old steward, in a solemn tone; ‘ kneel. and make your peace with heaven, for ed, three tall figures, completely muf- fled in black gowns, and with their faces wrapped in the funereal cowls, appeared upon the threshold. ‘Wherefore were we summoned? ‘demanded the foremost, in a deep se- | pulchral voice which sounded as if spo- ken by a corpse ascending a grave. | ¢ Po jnflict the vengeance of the | Bronze Statue and the Virgin’s Kiss? was Hubert’s solemn response. The youths heard and saw no more; stricken senseless with ineffable terror, ; they fell back from the granite block on | | : ee which they were kneeling, and dropped heavily upon the stone-paved floor. CHAPTER XXXVII. THE STEWARD AND THE FIGURES. MUF FLED When Lionel and Konrad awoke to ‘consciousness again, they found them | selves supported in the arms of the three from its vicinage, compelled them to. tall figures muffled in black gowns; and the shuddering looks which the unhap- —— SS in afew minutes your career will close | upon earth !’ Stupified with the numbness of an unspeakable terror, the unhappy youths mechanically obeyed the directions of granite block, they endeavored to pray in the presence of that rude stone cru- cifix. But their tongues clave to the roofs | of their mouths, and their throats were parched as if they had swallowed ashes. Suddenly a bell rang in some distant passage or vault, and in a few minutes a door opened opposite to the one by which the party had entered the circu- lar chamber: Lhe dismal sound of the bell had startled the youths somewhat from that stupefaction of the ‘senses into which they had fallen; and hearing the door open, they turned their eyes in that di- rection with a fearful presentiment that new horrors were in store for them. Nor were they mistaken ; for, slowly emerging from the darkness of a pas- tS ————— | the steward ; and kneeling down on the | py youths cast about them, showed that they were still in the circular chamber. Hubert, holding the lamp up, was gaz- ing upon them with an indefinable ex- pression : it might be compassion, or it might be a deeply concentrated gloating over their wretchedness, they knew not which ! | On one side stood the two armed men who had followed them down into the dread subterraneans of Altendorf Cas- tle: on he other was the stone cruci- fix in the niche, with the granite has- sock near. It was not, then, a hideous dream through which the pages had passed: no, Oh! no, it was an appalling reality 3 and they had indeed beheld that ac- cursed machinery, yes, and looked like- wise upon the Bronze Statue! Oh! language has power to concen- trate all the force of emphasis and all the meaning of epithets sternly strong, and the artist’s pencil may depict the most harrowing scenes which the hu- man imagination can conjure up: but the world has no tongue and the limner has no ability to convey an adequate por- traiture of that tearless horror and im- measurable despair which fastened up- on and enwrapt the youths as their eyes thus opened again and memory resum- od its empire. comicbooks.com