Beautiful Rienzi; or, The secret vendetta — page 111: what you’re looking at

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

106 BEAUTIFUL RIENZI. you love? That painted story of given and accepted love— a wife in another land—that wife’s death? Away with this ungenerous fear! She was pure, my own sweet, darling sister! Zhzs could not be the secret curse! I told all to my friend; and she solemnly declared her be- hef in Isolina’s perfect innocence, whatever appearance went against her. Such faith kept my heart from sinking utterly. When my friend went away, I wrote down all that she had told me, and then—with what poor success'—I tried to map out my sister’s life. It was an ellipsis—wild, incoherent; a riddle; a paradox; it seemed to give the lieto her pure char- acter! Loathing my involuntary thought I flung it away, and preferred impenetrable mystery, until Heaven should send us light. At last’ the authorities announced that Miss Rienzi must be ready for them, by a certain day; and good Dr. Graves applied all his skill to strengthen her for the approaching ordeal; and so well did he succeed that she was able to leave her bed, and sit—poor shadow!—in an invalid chair, two days before the time specified. Then the doctor—I do not know how—prepared her mind for what was coming; and so well and delicately did he fulfill the task that when I was permitted to join her she looked as calm and serene as ever, and even uplifted, if one could dare to trace such earthly emotions in a face which seemed etherealized until it was like a spirit’s. But the day arrived in which she passed from her cham- ber doors, leaning on the doctor’s arm, and half carried by my father, to where a carriage waited at the gate, sur- rounded by a curious crowd, all anxious to see a woman accused of murder take her first march on the road to the gallows. | I see her patient eyes raised to my father, and then aloft, to a stronger Father, whose arms cannot tremble as his does: She smile a pale, pure smile, like that brave Minerva who ever leans upon a spear, and she meekly meets the eager, gloating eyes of the mob. ‘Then the carriage is whirled away, and I stand alone with my grief and my dark, questioning heart. | About evening my father came home alone! She had been indicted to stand her trial for murder, and now was lodged in prison, where she must take her chance of life in CORNUCG OOO S (©)