While those awful scenes were being
enacted in the subterranes of the holy inquisition,
Demetrius was actively engaged in directing those
plans and effecting those arrangements which the scheming
disposition of Nisida of Riverola had suggested.
We should observe that in the morning he had sought
and found Antonio, with whom he had so expertly managed
that the villain had fallen completely into the snare
spread to entrap him, and had not only confessed that
he held at his disposal the liberty of the Count of
Riverola, but had also agreed to deliver him up to
the Greek. In a word, every thing in this respect
took place precisely as Nisida had foreseen.
Accordingly, so soon as it was dark in the evening,
sixty of the Ottoman soldiers quitted by two and threes
the mansion which the Florentine Government had appropriated
as a dwelling for the envoy and his suit. The
men whom Demetrius thus intrusted with the execution
of his scheme, and whose energy and fidelity he had
previously secured by means of liberal reward and
promise of more, were disguised in different ways,
but were all well armed. To be brief, so well
were the various dispositions taken, and so effectually
were they executed, that those sixty soldiers had
concealed themselves in the grove indicated by their
master, without having excited in the minds of the
Florentine people the least suspicion that anything
unusual was about to take place. It was close
upon eleven o’clock at night, when Demetrius,
after having obtained a hasty interview with Nisida,
whom he acquainted with the progress of the plot,
repaired to the grove wherein his men were already
distributed, and took his station in the midst of the
knot of olives on the right of the huge chestnut tree
which overhung the chasm.
Nearly a quarter of an hour elapsed,
and naught was heard save the waving of the branches
and the rustling of the foliage, as the breeze of
night agitated the grove; but at the expiration of
that brief period, the sound of voices was suddenly
heard close by the chestnut tree not preceded
by any footsteps nor other indication of the presence
of men and thus appearing as if they had
all at once and in an instant emerged from the earth.
Not a moment had elapsed no,
not a moment ere those individuals whose
voices were thus abruptly heard, were captured and
secured by a dozen Ottoman soldiers, who sprung upon
them from the dense thickets around or dropped amongst
them from the branches overhead and so admirably
was the swoop made, that five persons were seized,
bound and held powerless and incapable of resistance
ere the echo of the cry of alarm which they raised
had died away in the maze of the grove. And simultaneously
with the performance of this skillful maneuver, a
shrill whistle was wafted from the lips of Demetrius
through the wood, and as if by magic, a dozen torches
were seen to light up and numbers of men, with naked
scimiters gleaming in the rays of those firebrands,
rushed toward the spot where the capture had been
made. The effect of that sudden illumination those
flashing weapons and that convergence of
many warriors all toward the same point, was striking
in the extreme, and as the glare of the torches shone
on the countenances of the four men in the midst of
whom was Francisco (the whole five, however, being
held bound and powerless by the Ottoman soldiers),
it was evident that the entire proceeding had inspired
the guilty wretches with the most painful alarm.
Demetrius instantly knew that the handsome and noble-looking
young man in the midst of the group of captives and
captors, must be Don Francisco of Riverola, and he
also saw at a glance that one of the ruffians with
him was Antonio. But he merely had leisure at
the moment to address a word of reassurance and friendship
to Nisida’s brother for, lo! the secret
of the entrance to the robbers’ stronghold was
revealed discovered! Yes there,
at the foot of the tree, and now rendered completely
visible by the glare of the torch-light, was a small
square aperture, from which the trap door had been
raised to afford egress to the captured party.
“Secure that entrance!”
cried Demetrius, hastily; “and hasten down those
steps, some dozen of you, so as to guard it well!” then,
the instant this command was obeyed he turned toward
Francisco, saying, “Lord of Riverola am
I right in thus addressing you?”
“Such is my name,” answered
Francisco; “and if you, brave chief, will but
release me and lend me a sword, I will prove to thee
that I have no particular affection for these miscreants.”
Demetrius gave the necessary order and
in another moment the young Count of Riverola was
not only free, but with a weapon in his hand.
The Greek then made a rapid, but significant fatally
significant sign to his men; and quick
as thought, the three robbers and their
confederate Antonio were strangled by the bowstrings
which the Ottomans whipped around their necks.
A few stifled cries and all was over!
Thus perished the wretch Antonio one of
those treacherous, malignant, and avaricious Italians
who bring dishonor on their noble nation, a
man who had sought to turn the vindictive feelings
of the Count of Arestino to his own purposes, alike
to fill his purse and to wreak his hateful spite on
the Riverola family! Scarcely was the tragedy
enacted, when Demetrius ordered the four bodies to
be conveyed down the steps disclosed by the trap-door;
“for,” said he, “we will endeavor
so to direct our proceedings that not a trace of them
shall be left upon ground; as the Florentines would
not be well-pleased if they learnt that foreign soldiers
have undertaken the duties which they themselves should
perform.” Several of the Ottomans accordingly
bore the dead bodies down the steps; and Demetrius,
accompanied by Francisco, followed at the head of
the greater portion of the troops, a sufficient number,
however, remaining behind to constitute a guard at
the entrance of the stronghold.
While they were yet descending the
stone stairs, Demetrius seized the opportunity of
that temporary lull in the excitement of the night’s
adventures, to give Francisco hasty but welcome tidings
of his sister; and the reader may suppose that the
generous-hearted young count was overjoyed to learn
that Nisida was not only alive, but also once more
an inmate of the ancestral home. Demetrius said
nothing relative to Flora; and Francisco, not dreaming
for a moment that his deliverer even knew there was
such a being in existence, asked no questions on that
subject. His anxiety was not, however, any less
to fly to the cottage; for it must be remembered that
he was arrested first, on the 3d of July, and had
yet to learn all the afflictions which had fallen upon
Flora and her aunt afflictions of the existence
whereof he had been kept in utter ignorance by the
banditti during his long captivity of nearly three
months in their stronghold. But while we are thus
somewhat digressing, the invaders are penetrating
further into the stronghold. Headed by Demetrius
and Francisco, and all carrying their drawn scimiters
in their hands, the corps proceeded along a vast vaulted
subterrane, paved with flag-stones, until a huge iron
door, studded with nails, barred the way.
“Stay!” whispered Francisco,
suddenly recollecting himself, “I think I can
devise a means to induce the rogues to open this portal,
or I am much mistaken.”
He accordingly seized a torch and
hurried back to the foot of the stone-steps; in the
immediate vicinity of which he searched narrowly for
some object. At last he discovered the object
of his investigation namely a large bell
hanging in a niche, and from which a strong wire ran
up through the ground to the surface. This bell
Francisco set ringing, and then hurried back to rejoin
his deliverers. Scarcely was he again by the
side of Demetrius, when he saw that his stratagem
had fully succeeded; for the iron door swung heavily
round on its hinges and in another moment
the cries of terror which the two robber-sentinels
raised on the inner side, were hushed forever by the
Turkish scimiters. Down another flight of steps
the invaders then precipitated themselves, another
door, at the bottom, having been opened in compliance
with the same signal which had led to the unfolding
of the first and now the alarm was given
by the sentinels guarding the second post those
sentinels flying madly on, having beholden the immolation
of their comrades. But Demetrius and Francisco
speedily overtook them just as they emerged from another
long vaulted and paved cavern-passage, and were about
to cross a plank which connected the two sides of a
deep chasm in whose depths a rapid stream rushed gurgling
on.
Into the turbid waters the two fugitive
sentinels were cast: over the bridge poured the
invaders, and into another caverned corridor, hollowed
out of the solid rock, did they enter, the torch-bearers
following immediately behind the Greek and the young
count. It was evident that neither the cries
of the surprised sentinels nor the tread of the invaders
had alarmed the main corps of the banditti; for, on
reaching a barrier formed by massive folding doors,
and knocking thereat, the portals instantly began
to move on their hinges and in rushed the
Ottoman soldiers, headed by their two gallant Christian
leaders. The robbers were in the midst of a deep
carouse in their magnificent cavern-hall, when their
festivity was thus rudely interrupted.
“We are betrayed!” thundered
Lomellino, the captain of the horde; “to arms!
to arms!”
But the invaders allowed them no time
to concentrate themselves in a serried phalanx, and
tremendous carnage ensued. Surprised and taken
unaware as they were, the banditti fought as if a spell
were upon them, paralyzing their energies and warning
them that their last hour was come. The terrible
scimiters of the Turks hewed them down in all directions;
some, who sought to fly, were literally cut to pieces.
Lomellino fell beneath the sword of the gallant Count
of Riverola; and within twenty minutes after the invaders
first set foot in the banqueting hall, not a soul
of the formidable horde was left alive!
Demetrius abandoned the plunder of
the den to his troops; and when the portable part
of the rich booty had been divided amongst them, they
returned to their own grove, into which the entrance
of the stronghold opened. When the subterrane
was thus cleared of the living, and the dead alone
remained in that place which had so long been their
home, and was now their tomb, Demetrius ordered his
forces to disperse and return to their quarters in
Florence in the same prudent manner which had characterized
their egress thence a few hours before. Francisco
and Demetrius, being left alone together in the grove,
proceeded by torchlight to close the trap-door, which
they found to consist of a thick plate of iron covered
with earth, so prepared, by glutinous substances no
doubt, that it was hard as rock; and thus, when the
trap was shut down, not even a close inspection would
lead to a suspicion of its existence, so admirably
did it fit into its setting and correspond with the
soil all around.
It required, moreover, but a slight
exercise of their imaginative powers to enable Demetrius
and Francisco to conjecture that every time any of
the banditti had come forth from their stronghold they
were accustomed to strew a little fresh earth over
the entire spot, and thus afford an additional precaution
against the chance of detection on the part of any
one who might chance to stray in that direction.
We may also add that the trap-door was provided with
a massive bolt which fastened it inside when closed,
and that the handle of the bell-wire, which gave the
signal to open the trap, was concealed in a small
hollow in the old chestnut-tree. Having thus
satisfied his curiosity by means of these discoveries,
Demetrius accompanied Francisco to the city; and during
their walk thither, he informed the young count that
he was an envoy from the Ottoman Grand Vizier to the
Florentine Government that he had become
acquainted with Nisida on board the ship which delivered
her from her lonely residence on an island in the
Mediterranean and that as she had by some
means or other learnt where Francisco was imprisoned,
he had undertaken to deliver him. The young count
renewed his warmest thanks to the chivalrous Greek
for the kind interest he had manifested in his behalf;
and they separated at the gate of the Riverola mansion,
into which Francisco hurried to embrace his sister;
while Demetrius repaired to his own abode.
The meeting between Nisida and her
brother Francisco was affecting in the extreme; and
for a brief space the softer feelings in the lady’s
nature triumphed over those strong, turbulent, and
concentrated passions which usually held such indomitable
sway over her. For her attachment to him was
profound and sincere; and the immense sacrifice she
had made in what she conceived to be his welfare and
interests had tended to strengthen this almost boundless
love.
On his side, the young count was rejoiced
to behold his sister, whose strange disappearance
and long absence had filled his mind with the worst
apprehensions. Yes, he was rejoiced to see her
once more beneath the ancestral roof; and, with a
fond brother’s pride, he surveyed her splendid
countenance, which triumph and happiness now invested
with an animation that rendered her surpassingly beautiful!
A few brief and rapidly-given explanations
were exchanged between them, by means of the language
of the fingers, Francisco satisfying Nisida’s
anxiety in respect to the success of her project, by
which the total extermination of the banditti had
been effected, and she conveying to him
as much of the outline of her adventures during the
last seven months as she thought it prudent to impart.
They then separated, it being now very late; and,
moreover, Nisida had still some work in hand for that
night. The moment Francisco was alone, he exclaimed
aloud, “Oh! is it possible that this dear sister
who loves me so much, is really the bitter enemy of
Flora? But to-morrow to-morrow I must
have a long explanation with Nisida; and Heaven grant
that she may not stand in the way of my happiness!
Oh, Flora dearest Flora, if you knew how
deeply I have suffered on your account during my captivity
in that accursed cavern! And what must you have
thought of my disappearance my absence!
Alas! did the same vengeance which pursued me wreak
its spite also on thee, fair girl? did
the miscreant, Antonio, who boastingly proclaimed
himself to my face the author of my captivity, and
who sullenly refused to give me any tidings of those
whom I cared for, and of what was passing in the world
without, did he dare to molest thee?
But suspense is intolerable, I cannot endure it even
for a few short hours! No I will speed
me at once to the dwelling of my Flora, and thus assuage
her grief and put an end to my own fears at the same
time!”
Having thus resolved, Francisco repaired
to his own apartment, enveloped himself in a cloak,
secured weapons of defense about his person, and then
quitted the mansion, unperceived by a living soul.
Almost at the same time, but by another mode of egress namely,
the private staircase leading from her own apartments
into the garden, and which has been so often mentioned
in the course of this narrative Donna Nisida
stole likewise from the Riverola palace. She
was habited in male attire; and beneath her doublet
she wore the light but strong cuirass which she usually
donned ere setting out on any nocturnal enterprise,
and which she was now particularly cautious not to
omit from the details of her toilet, inasmuch as the
mysterious appearance of the muffled figure, which
had alarmed her on the previous evening, induced her
to adopt every precaution against secret and unknown
enemies. Whither was the Lady Nisida now hurrying,
through the dark streets of Florence? what
new object had she in contemplation?
Her way was bent toward an obscure
neighborhood in the immediate vicinity of the cathedral;
and in a short time she reached the house in which
Dame Margaretha, Antonio’s mother, dwelt.
She knocked gently at the door, which was shortly
opened by the old woman, who imagined it was her son
that sought admittance; for, though in the service
of the Count of Arestino, Antonio was often kept abroad
late by the various machinations in which he had been
engaged, and it was by no means unusual for him to
seek his mother’s dwelling at all hours.
Margaretha, who appeared in a loose
wrapper hastily thrown on, held a lamp in her hand;
and when its rays streamed not on the countenance of
her son, but showed the form of a cavalier handsomely
appareled, she started back in mingled astonishment
and fear. A second glance, however, enabled her
to recognize the Lady Nisida; and an exclamation of
wonder escaped her lips. Nisida entered the house,
closed the door behind her, and motioned Dame Margaretha
to lead the way into the nearest apartment. The
old woman obeyed tremblingly; for she feared that the
lady’s visit boded no good; and this apprehension
on her part was not only enhanced by her own knowledge
of all Antonio’s treachery toward Count Francisco,
but also by the imperious manner, determined looks,
and strange disguise of her visitress. But Margaretha’s
terror speedily gave way to indescribable astonishment
when Nisida suddenly addressed her in a language which
not for many, many years, had the old woman heard flow
from that delicious mouth!
“Margaretha,” said Nisida,
“you must prepare to accompany me forthwith!
Be not surprised to hear me thus capable of rendering
myself intelligible by means of an organ on which
a seal was so long placed. A marvelous cure has
been accomplished in respect to me, during my absence
from Florence. But you must prepare to accompany
me, I say; your son Antonio ”
“My son!” ejaculated the
woman, now again trembling from head to foot, and
surveying Nisida’s countenance in a manner denoting
the acutest suspense.
“Your son is wounded mortally
wounded in a street skirmish ”
“Wounded!” shrieked Margaretha.
“Oh, dear lady tell me all tell
me the worst! What has happened to my unfortunate
son? He is dead he is dead! Your
manner convinces me that hope is past!”
And she wrung her hands bitterly,
while tears streamed down her wrinkled cheeks.
“No, he is not dead, Margaretha!”
exclaimed Nisida; “but he is dying and
he implored me, by everything I deemed sacred, to hasten
thither and fetch you to him, that he may receive your
blessing and close his eyes in peace.”
“In peace!” repeated the
old woman bitterly: then, to herself she said,
“Donna Nisida suspects not his perfidy knows
not all his wickedness.”
“Delay not,” urged the
lady, perceiving what was passing in her mind.
“You are well aware that my brother, who, alas!
has disappeared most mysteriously, dismissed Antonio
abruptly from his service many months ago; but, whatever
were the cause, it is forgotten, at least by me.
So tarry not, but prepare to accompany me.”
Margaretha hastened to her bedroom,
and reappeared in a few minutes, completely dressed
and ready to issue forth.
“Keep close by me,” said
Nisida, as she opened the house-door; “and breathe
not a word as we pass through the streets. I have
reasons of my own for assuming a disguise, and I wish
not to be recognized.”
Margaretha was too much absorbed in
the contemplation of the afflicting intelligence which
she had received, to observe anything at all suspicious
in these injunctions; and thus it was that the two
females proceeded in silence through the streets leading
toward the Riverola mansion.
By means of a pass-key Nisida opened
the wicket-gate of the spacious gardens, and she traversed
the grounds, Margaretha walking by her side.
In a few minutes they reached a low door, affording
admission into the basement-story of the palace, and
of which Nisida always possessed the key.
“Go first,” said the lady,
in a scarcely audible whisper; “I must close
the door behind us.”
“But wherefore this way?”
demanded Margaretha, a sudden apprehension starting
up in her mind. “This door leads down to
the cellars.”
“The officers of justice are
in search of Antonio and I am concealing
him for your sake,” was the whispered and rapid
assurance given by Nisida. “Would you have
him die in peace in your arms, or perish on the scaffold?”
Margaretha shuddered convulsively,
and hurried down the dark flight of stone steps upon
which the door opened. Terrible emotions raged
in her bosom indescribable alarms, grief,
suspicion, and also a longing eagerness to put faith
in the apparent friendship of Nisida.
“Give me your hand,” said
the lady; and the hand that was thrust into hers was
cold and trembling.
Then Nisida hurried Margaretha along
a narrow subterranean passage, in which the blackest
night reigned; and, though the old woman was a prey
to apprehensions that increased each moment to a fearful
degree, she dared not utter a word either to question to
implore or to remonstrate. At length
they stopped; and Nisida, dropping Margaretha’s
hand, drew back heavy bolts which raised ominous echoes
in the vaulted passage. In another moment a door
began to move stubbornly on its hinges; and almost
at the same time a faint light gleamed forth increasing
in power as the door opened wider, but still attaining
no greater strength than that which a common iron lamp
could afford. Margaretha’s anxious glances
were plunged into the cellar or vault to which the
door opened, and whence the light came: but she
saw no one within. It, however, appeared as if
some horrible reminiscence, connected with the place,
came back to her startled mind; for, falling on her
knees, and clinging wildly to her companion, she cried
in a piercing tone, “Oh! lady, wherefore have
you brought me hither? where is my son? what
does all this horrible mystery mean? But, chiefly
now of all why, why are we here at
this hour?”
“In a few moments you shall
know more!” exclaimed Nisida; and as she spoke,
with an almost superhuman strength she dragged, or
rather, flung the prostrate woman into the vault,
rushing in herself immediately afterward, and closing
the door behind her.
“Holy God!” shrieked Margaretha,
gazing wildly round the damp and naked walls of solid
masonry, and then up at the lamp suspended to the arched
ceiling, “is this the place? But no! you
are ignorant of all that; it was not for that you
brought me hither! Speak, lady, speak! Where
is Antonio? What have I done to merit your displeasure?
Oh, mercy! mercy! Bend not those terrible glances
upon me! Your eyes flash fire! You are not
Nisida you are an evil spirit! Oh,
mercy! mercy!”
And thus did the miserable woman rave,
as, kneeling on the cold, damp ground she extended
her tightly-clasped hands in an imploring manner toward
Nisida, who, drawn up to her full height, was contemplating
the groveling wretch with eyes that seemed to shoot
forth shafts of devouring flame! Terrible, indeed,
was the appearance of Nisida! Like to an avenging
deity was she no longer woman in the glory
of her charms and the elegance of her disguise, but
a fury a very fiend, an implacable demoness,
armed with the blasting lightnings of infernal malignity
and hellish rancor!
“Holy Virgin, protect me!”
shrieked Margaretha, every nerve thrilling with the
agony of ineffable alarm.
“Yes, call upon Heaven to aid
you, vile woman!” said Nisida, in a thick, hoarse,
and strangely altered voice, “for you are beyond
the reach of human aid! Know ye whose remains or
rather the mangled portions of whose remains lie
in this unconsecrated ground? Ah! well may you
start in horror and surprise, for I know all all!”
A terrific scream burst from the lips
of Margaretha; and she threw her wild looks around
as if she were going mad.
“Detestable woman!” exclaimed
Nisida, fixing her burning eyes more intently still
on Margaretha’s countenance: “you
are now about to pay the penalty of your complicity
in the most odious crimes that ever made nights terrible
in Florence! The period of vengeance has at length
arrived! But I must torture ere I slay ye!
Yes, I must give thee a foretaste of that hell to
which your soul is so soon to plunge down! Know,
then, that Antonio your son Antonio is
no more. Not three hours have elapsed since he
was slain assassinated murdered,
if you will so call it and by my commands.”
“Oh! lady, have pity upon me pity
upon me, a bereaved mother!” implored the old
woman, in a voice of anguish so penetrating, that vile
as she was, it would have moved any human being save
Nisida. “Do not kill me and
I will end my miserable days in a convent! Give
me time to repent of all my sins for they
are numerous and great! Oh! spare me, dear lady have
mercy upon me have mercy upon me!”
“What mercy had you on them
whose mangled remains are buried in the ground beneath
your feet?” demanded Nisida, in a voice almost
suffocated with rage. “Prepare for death your
last moment is at hand!” and a bright dagger
flashed in the lamp-light.
“Mercy mercy!”
exclaimed Margaretha, springing forward, and grasping
Nisida’s knees.
“I know not what mercy is!”
cried the terrible Italian woman, raising the long,
bright, glittering dagger over her head.
“Holy God! protect me!
Lady dear lady, have pity upon me!”
shrieked the agonized wretch, her countenance hideously
distorted, and appallingly ghastly, as it was raised
in such bitterly earnest appeal toward that of the
avengeress. “Again I say mercy mercy!”
“Die, fiend!” exclaimed
Nisida; and the dagger, descending with lightning
speed, sunk deep into the bosom of the prostrate victim.
A dreadful cry burst from the lips of the wretched
woman; and she fell back a corpse!
“Oh! my dear my well-beloved
and never-to-be-forgotten mother!” said Nisida,
falling upon her knees by the side of the body, and
gazing intently upward as if her eyes could
pierce the entire building overhead, and catch a glimpse
of the spirit of the parent whom she thus apostrophized “pardon
me pardon me for this deed! Thou didst
enjoin me to abstain from vengeance but
when I thought of all thy wrongs, the contemplation
drove me mad and an irresistible power a
force which I could not resist has hurried
me on to achieve the punishment of this wretch who
was so malignant an enemy of thine; dearest mother,
pardon me look not down angrily on thy
daughter!”
Then Nisida gave way to all the softer
emotion which attended the reaction that her mind
was now rapidly undergoing, after being so highly
strung, as for the last few hours it was and
her tears fell in torrents. For some minutes
she remained in her kneeling position, and weeping,
till she grew afraid yes, afraid of being
in that lonely place, with the corpse stretched on
the ground a place, too, which for other
reasons awoke such terrible recollections in her mind.
Starting to her feet and
neither waiting to extinguish the lamp, which she
herself had lighted at an early period of the night,
nor to withdraw her dagger from the bosom of the murdered
Margaretha Nisida fled from the vault,
and regained her own apartment in safety, and unperceived.
When morning dawned, Nisida rose from
a couch in which she had obtained two hours of troubled
slumber, and, having hastily dressed herself, proceeded
to the chamber of her brother Francisco.
But he was not there nor
had his bed been slept in during the past night.
“He is searching after his Flora,”
thought Nisida. “Alas, poor youth how
it grieves me thus to be compelled to thwart thee in
thy love! But my oath and thine interests,
Francisco, demand this conduct on my part. And
better better it is that thou shouldst hear
from strangers the terrible tidings that thy Flora
is a prisoner in the dungeon of the inquisition, where
she can issue forth only to proceed to the stake!
Yes and better, too, is it that she should
die, than that this marriage shall be accomplished!”
Nisida quitted the room, and repaired
to the apartment where the morning repast was served
up.
A note, addressed to herself, lay
upon the table. She instantly recognized the
handwriting of Dr. Duras, tore open the billet, and
read the contents as follows:
“My brother Angelo came to me
very late last night and informed me that a sense
of imperious duty compelled him to change his mind
relative to the two women Francatelli. He accordingly
appeared on their behalf, and obtained a delay
of eight days. But nothing can save them
from condemnation at the end of this period, unless
indeed immense interests be made on their account
with the duke. My brother alone deserves your
blame, dear friend; let not your anger fall on
your affectionate and devoted servant.
“JERONYMO
DURAS.”
Nisida bit her lips with vexation.
She now regretted she had effected the liberation
of Francisco before she was convinced that Flora was
past the reach of human mercy; but, in
the next moment she resumed her haughty composure,
as she said within herself, “My brother may essay
all his influence: but mine shall prevail!”
Scarcely had she established this
determination in her mind, when the door was burst
open, and Francisco pale, ghastly, and with
eyes wandering wildly staggered into the
apartment.
Nisida, who really felt deeply on
his account, sprung forward received him
in her arms and supported him to a seat.
“Oh! Nisida, Nisida!”
he exclaimed aloud, in a tone expressive of deep anguish;
“what will become of your unfortunate brother?
But it is not you who have done this! No for
you were not in Florence at the time which beheld
the cruel separation of Flora and myself!”
And, throwing himself on his sister’s
neck, he burst into tears. He had apostrophized
her in the manner just related, not because he fancied
that she could hear or understand him; but because
he forgot, in the maddening paroxysms of his grief,
that Nisida was (as he believed) deaf and dumb!
She wound her arms round him she pressed
him to her bosom she covered his pale forehead
with kisses; while her heart bled at the sight of
his alarming sorrow.
Suddenly he started up flung
his arms wildly about and exclaimed, in
a frantic voice, “Bring me my steel panoply!
give me my burgonet my cuirass and
my trusty sword; and let me arouse all Florence
to a sense of its infamy in permitting that terrible
inquisition to exist! Bring me my armor, I say the
same sword I wielded on the walls of Rhodes and
I will soon gather a trusty band to aid me!”
But, overcome with excitement, he
fell forward dashing his head violently
upon the floor, before Nisida could save him.
She pealed the silver bell that was placed upon the
breakfast-table, and assistance soon came. Francisco
was immediately conveyed to his chamber Dr.
Duras was sent for and on his arrival,
he pronounced the young nobleman to be laboring under
a violent fever. The proper medical precautions
were adopted; and the physician was in a few hours
able to declare that Francisco was in no imminent
danger, but that several days would elapse ere he
could possibly become convalescent. Nisida remained
by his bedside, and was most assiduous most
tender most anxious in her attentions toward
him; and when he raved, in his delirium, of Flora and
the inquisition, it went to her very heart to think
that she was compelled by a stern necessity to abstain
from exerting her influence to procure the release
of one whose presence would prove of far greater benefit
to the sufferer than all the anodynes and drugs which
the skill of Dr. Duras might administer!