Page:Blackwood's Magazine volume 046.djvu/246

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
232
Pietro d'Abano.
[Aug.


"If I stir a step," said Berecynth in perplexity, "I shall trample on the heads of these good people here. They are writhing on all sides of me like snakes and laughing scornfully in my face. Are they spirits—real substantial goblins, or mere empty phantoms? I say, you devils, unless you get out of my way, I shall certainly tread on the green or blue snouts of some of you. Let every one look out for himself!" So saying, he dashed into the midst of them.

All was now still, and Pietro stood up. He made a sign, and the whole spectre host vanished from the place. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, and drew his breath more freely. Here his servant returned, and said, "Master, every thing is now quiet and gracious. At first, light phantoms went flying past me, and vanished in the dark sky; and then, when I had fixed my eyes on the Cathedral, a mighty peal arose, as if all the chords of a giant's harp had at once been made shiver, while, at the stroke, every street and house trembled. Then the great door of the cathedral flew open; sweet flutings arose upon the air, and a soft serene light flooded the interior of the church. A female form came forth into the beams, pale, but radiant as an angel, and crowned with a coronet of flowers. She stepped out of the church door, and an escort of gentle lights guided her steps along the streets through which she had to pass. With erect head and folded hands she glided on towards our dwelling. Is this she whom you expect?"

"Take this golden key," answered Pietro, "and open with it the innermost and most sumptuous apartment in my house. The purple couch is spread, and the perfumes are burning. Then betake yourself to rest. Make no further inquiries about what you have witnessed tonight. Be silent and obedient as you value your life."

"I know my own place, I believe," said the dwarf, taking himself off with the key, and darting a malicious glance behind him as he went. Meanwhile gentle strains were heard coming nearer and nearer. Pietro went down into his entrance-hall, and at the same moment there glided into it the pale corpse of Crescentia, dressed in her winding-sheet, and still holding the crucifix in her folded hands. The magician placed himself before her; she opened her eyes wide, and, trembling from head to foot, started back from him in horror, so that the crown of flowers was shaken from her head. In silence he parted her folded hands; but in the left she still held fast the cross. Taking her by the right, he led her through the range of his apartments; and she went with him—a rigid and unconscious form that regarded him not.

At length they reached a remote chamber, in which they halted. It was most sumptuously adorned with purple and gold, silk and satin, and the light even of broad day tell with faint and deadened rays through the heavy curtains. The sorcerer motioned his victim towards the couch, and the unconscious being, filled so strangely with life, lifted and let fall her fair head, like a lily stirred by the wind, as she sank down on the purple coverlet, breathing as if in agony. The old man poured a precious essence from a golden flask into a small crystal saucer, and held it to her lips. The maiden swallowed the miraculous draught, opened her eyes once more, and gazed upon him whom in life she had regarded as her friend; she then turned from him with an expression of abhorrence, and sank into a deep slumber.

The magician now retired, locking the apartment. The whole house was buried in profound repose. He betook himself to his own chamber, there, amid his books and magical instruments, to await the sunrise and the business of the day.

Chap. V.

The Search.

When the unhappy youth Antonio was sufficiently rested, Podesta and a large troop of armed followers rode out with him on the following day, to search for the hut and to capture the hateful hag and her banditti. The account given by Antonio had made the disconsolate father very anxious to behold the maiden who so closely resembled his dead daughter.

"Is it possible," said the old man as he rode along, "that a dream I have often had should turn out to be really true?"