First Performed at the Royal Grecian Theatre, 1859.
—Coloured coat and cape, grey pants, drab conical hat, hessian boots. 2nd dress —Black coat with cape, white vest, pants, black hat, hessian boots, travelling cloak, with hood.
—Ibid, in various colours.
— Black velvet suit of period, large cloak, conical hat.
—Ibid, trimmed with silver, blue silk stockings, shoes and buckles.
—Net cap, brown Spanish suit of period, blue stockings,
shoes, drab felt conical shaped hat. 2nd dress —Blue jacket, red under vest,
blue
—Striped shirts, petticoat trousers, belts, net caps.
— Old-fashioned liveries.
—White drapery, white cloth for head dress, so as to hide every portion of hair.
—The same as Juauna, in various colours.
—Green velvet dress of period, a long black veil, fastened to the back of head.
—White lace dress, straw hat, trimmed with flowers. 2nd dress —White satin, white wreath.
—White dress. 2nd dress —White wreath and long veil.
—2nd dress- -Grey petticoat, dark body, red handkerchief to cover head. 3rd dress— Greek dress.
Will be Performed a New Powerful Legendary Drama, in Four Paris, from the Pen of A. Harris, Esq., produced on a Scale of Unparalleled Splendour, aud entitled
The Wedding—the Unlucky Servant—the Lonely Traveller—Ten Louis for a Guide—More Travellers—a Pic-nic Party—Storming thePosada—the Unknown—the Fearful History of Tormenar—the Expedition—Supper, Supper.
Interior Of The Castle Of Tormenar.
The Ghoule’s Victim—the Arrival of the Pic-nic at their Destinations—the Preparations for Supper—Fires Lighted—Boom well Lit—Ghost Stories over Supper—Sudden and Unexpected Appearance of Ruthven—the Alarm—Supper Finished—a Resting Place for the Night—the Discovery of the Dead Body—Death of Juanna and Ruthven—Ruthven’s Last Request.
The Heights Of Tormenar.
The Moonbeams... “Thanks, Gilbert, thon hast kept thy Oath.’’
A Sister’ Love—the Return of Gilbert—the Betrothed—the Recognition and supposed Madness of Gilbert—the Marriage— Interview between the Unknown and Ruthven—the Warning.
Rustic Fete by Mrs.
Love—the Faithful Servant—Revelations—Too Late—the Vampire’s Bride—the Death Kiss—Arrival of Gilbert—the Fall fromthe Turret.
The Turret Moat-Discovery of the Body.
—An Apartment overlooking the Bay of Naples.
The Unknown and her Rival—Gilbert and his Bride—the Interview and Threat of the Unknown—the Storm— Lazare out Fishing—the Sacrifice of the Unknown.
The Chapel!!
Abduction of Antonia—the Vampire’s Revenge—Midnight—the Charmed Amulet.
Death Of Ruthven.
The Ascension Of The Ghoule!
The Lime Light By Mr. Morgan.
Come come, there's enough of dancing and singing
The day I marry my daughter, my inn for twenty-four hours dissolves itself into my mansion—so much the worse for the travellers. They were at liberty to come yesterday—they are again at liberty to come to-morrow. Those that were already installed of course I could not turn out; however, they only consisted of a solitary female, and a strange sort of female too—she's a Turk, or a Greek, or from some other out landish place; besides, she's not very extravagant in her living —all she consumes is a few grains of rice daily.
Father-in-law, remember I have your word, that the day I married Petra, that sluggard Lazare should trot, and trot he must.
My son-in-law, you see, demands it.
I never spoke a dozen words to him in my life.
But it seems he has remarked you have been too forward with my daughter.
I said what I've said, and I've seen what I've seen.
I know what he means, because one day a little dust flew into the Senora Petra's eyes, and he just come in as I was blowing it out.
That will do! that will do !
Now, just ask your wife if I kissed her, and I'm sure she will say no!
Come, there's quite enough of this—there's your wages, pack up your bundle
and be off.
Oh, certainly.
Holloa! there's our strange acquaintance who exists upon the rice. What a
strange look she has got—it makes me feel chilly all over.
This is an inn, is it not?
Why yes, senora, it is a sort of inn—it was one yesterday, and it will be one again to-morrow.
I have no intention of stopping here—I require but a guide.
Then I'm your man.
Thank Heaven! then we can start at once! I cannot delay a moment; before nightfall we must reach the Castle of Tormenar.
It is near here, is it not ?
Much too near, but you'll not catch me there.
Why not ?
Why not ? why, because an honest Christian does not even pronounce its name without a shudder.
But should I have business there!
With all my heart, senora ; and I'll help you to find him.
Will any of you be this lady's guide ? she'll give ten piastres.
You'll have to show her the way to Tormenar, though.
Come, now, don't quarrel among yourselves who it is to be, or the lady will be at a loss who to choose—now ain't any of ye going to accept ?
Of course not!
House, there—house!
What's all this noise at the gate ? more travellers!
It seems we shall not have a moment's peace to eat the wedding supper.
Run and tell them, Lazare, there's no room.
Why, senor, there can be no use of our opening the gate to you, as we have no accommodation—we are too full already.
A lame excuse! We comprise a party of twelve, who have started for a romantic
Most firmly.
Indeed—but if you don't open these gates, we intend to knock them down.
Knock them down ! commit burglary!
My good landlord, do you refuse again ? if so, I take the law in my own
hands. Is it to be or not? Once— twice— thrice! no answer! Well, then,
gentlemen, to the breach !
The stronghold being ours, and the enemy having capitulated, walk in, ladies, walk in.
That's the style of master for me.
Oh no, it's an outlandish lady that has been here these three days, and of course, you know, I could not turn her out.
Come, since you have changed your tone, and speak a little civilly, I am open
to be convinced that there really is no room. What can we do, Ladies? we have
already taxed your strength a great deal to-day.
So much the better!
So much the worse, I say, for if you ever went there once, you'd never come back.
Why ? is it inhabited by an ogre, who would swallow me up ?
That I don't know, senor, but when anyone ventures there, some one or other settles their business for them.
Quite a romantic legend !
Three years ago, an Englisa gentleman, a foolhardy stripling, would pass the night there ; the next morning he was found nearly dashed to pieces among the rocks, his heart open, and stone cold.
Indeed!
Why, only last year two captains of the garrison of Seville, a young man about twenty-five, and another about, fifty or sixty, went out of Aravura to Tormenar ; (that's the name of the place) through fatigue they fell asleep side by side. The next day the old one came back haggard and nearly a maniac, for on awaking he found his companion laying by his side dead, with a small wound in the artery of his throat. It's quite true—everybody here present, I am sure, must have seen it.
I saw him buried—oh, bu-r-i-e-d!
Good heaven !
What does it prove ? But that the place is inhabited by robbers and cut throats, like most places in this beautiful country of yours.
There you are wrong, senor, for the young Englishman had his rings still on his fingers, and a well filled purse was found in the pockets of the officer.
What say you, gentlemen, to these fine tales ?
Why, count, why—
If you had no greater fear than I have, we'd pay a visit to this Tormenar, that's the name I believe, and see if we should be dashed over the rocks, or have our veins opened. What says our little army? we have six pistols, four rifles, and enough ammunition to last us for half an hour. Is Tormenar our destination or not ?
Ay, Tormenar!
What noodles!
Might I beg a few moments' conversation ?
I am all attention.
I believe you are about to visit the chateau of Tormenar. Might I entreat you to let me join your party ?
But have you heard the stories of our worthy host ?
Senor, what could I have to fear in such company as yours.
Senora, I am convinced our ladies will be delighted with the acquisition. What did the host say, that Tormenar brought ill-luck—in my case, at least, there must be an exception.
I have, then, the honour to address—
Count Gilbert de Tiffanges, and your most devoted slave—
Count, I am the youngest daughter of the Marquis de Tarillas—my father had placed me in the Convent de Huescana, in order to prevent my marriage with Don Luis de Rigoro, who is devotedly attached to me, and to whom I am affianced before heaven. A few days since, I received a letter from Don Luis appointing to meet me at the Castle of Tormenar. I answered him that wherever he went I should follow —and named this evening for our meeting ; yesterday, by aid of the superior (who is an old friend), I escaped from the convent—as soon as I reach Don Luis we will try and gain the nearest port, and then immediately set sail for America. That, count, is the reason why I have begged of you to let me join your party, and once at Tormenar, Don Luis will, in person, thank you for having brought him his affianced bride. I am now convinced that I have spoken to a loyal cavalier who will respect the position in which I am placed.
Senora, I have left a sister in Brittany whom I dearly love, she is about to
be wedded to a noble heart, but should she ever need a friend or protector I
trust she will but meet one to offer her such a sincere and disinterested
friendship as that I now tender you, and which, I trust, may be soon put to the
test. Come, senora, deign to accept my arm; if to merit the gratitude of Don
Luis is but to be your affectionate brother and stern defender, before many
hours are past, believe me, senora, I shall have gained it.
Well, then, senor, come in and take your choice— it's impossible to refuse you anything, you have such winning ways.
I only wish he'd left the choice of his viands to me,
Now, Marquis Marino, and you, count, to the Avant Garde, the rest with the ladies will occupy the centre, and if you permit, senora, we will bring up the rear. How long does it take to reach the renowned spot ?
It will be but a pleasant promenade, and we shall arrive there before the rain. Come, senora, in an hour and a half I shall have the pleasure of handing you over to Don Luis —his charming bride.
Yes, and in a couple of hours they'll all have their necks wrung, just in the way I did the chickens this morning.
At last! better late than never!
Ay, supper, supper!
It will take thee two hours, Juanna, before you can be in the arms of your affianced husband—he shall be in mine long ere that.
He was young and handsome—no matter, I have once more a new lease of existence! Gilbert, it is thou that art next doomed.
Well, senora—well, companions in arms—I do not think we can find anything better than this for a dining room.
And now for the provisions !
And see, our wishes are anticipated—a fine piece of old furniture.
Chairs too why, we are more likely in the habitation of some kind fairy, than an old haunted turret. But, senora, why look with such dread around ?
Did you not hear it strike eleven as we entered these dark portals ?
Certainly, it was eleven.
And Don Luis is not arrived!
The late rains have made the roads hardly practicable ; besides, he bears a brave sword, and has no fear of robbers!
Ay, count, but there are dangers against which mortal power has no defence!
What, senora, can you speak thus—you, who but half an hour since braved with such heart the fury of the storm, and the dangers of the road we have passed.
True, but for some minutes, ever since I have passed the threshold of this
place, I have felt an unwilling dread
Accursed be these walls, that can inspire you with such feeling.
Oh, that Don Luis were but here to join me in my heartfelt and sincere thanks to you, count.
Now, ladies, if you have sufficiently dried your mantillas, we'll commence operations on the supper, which has a very inviting aspect.
Supper, supper!
Mind that we keep a place vacant next to the senora.
Be assured, friends, the fowls will be more tender, and the wine will have a finer flavour here in our rude way, than if we had joined the bridal supper down below. Permit me, senora, to offer a little of this pate—it looks exquisite.
Pray, count, excuse me, I cannot eat a morsel of anything. Believe me, I sincerely grieve to so unwillingly cast a gloom over your jovial party.
Mention it not, my dear sister, but what say you to our illumination, which, peering from this old turret window, will serve as a beacon to the traveller below ?
At least, if there be any phantoms here, we shall be able to get a glimpse of them.
Well, then, you must believe in supernatural beings, such as sylphs, will-o'-the-wisps, ghoules, vampires, &c.—rustic superstition merely.
Nay, rail not at it, count, I have much faith in such superstitions.
Those who have travelled will find the superstition change with the character of the country—in some places it is a good spirit—in others an inoffensive will-o'-the-wisp, whilst in others it becomes the female spectre bearing the form of youth and beauty to more easily entice victims into their grasp, which they destroy by drinking their blood.
Horrible!
Nay, if the senora had read our poet, Gallau, he tells the story of a ghoule, who, having married a young nobleman, never touched food, but a few grains of rice. Having followed her one night, he was unwillingly obliged to witness one of the sanguinary repasts which the marquis has just explained.
The existence of ghoule's my dear Gilbert, in spite of all your poets may write about them, has never been an authenticated fact. Now, as regards vampires, I myself have every reason to believe the romance more truthful.
Did you ever meet with one, then?
Not exactly, but in my last journey to Peru, I lodged in a house which a vampire had once honoured with his presence. It was that of a rich Jew broker, there were many daughters, amongst whom was an adorable young creature of between sixteen and seventeen years of age. I saw her portrait, and she must have been a marvel of beauty.
Oh, go on—go on !
Well, then, at night, when all had retired to rest, and the moon was hid
behind the dark clouds, on the stroke of midnight.
Just the thing, for midnight is striking now.
A sort of noise like the whistling winds was heard in the corridors, an unearthly light seemed to illumine them, and on the last stroke of the clock, the door opened, and slowly the pale and lurid form of the vampire stood before—
What seek you here ?
Nay, 'tis we, my lord, who have to beg your indulgence for the strange
reception we gave you; but you arrived so suddenly and unexpectedly, and at such
an hour, that I must confess you did in some way startle the ladies.
I, then, interrupted one of these gentlemen in the recital of some interesting tale?
They were but amusing the ladies with the legend—
A legend!
Of a vampire!
Of a vampire ?
I was but telling the ladies that in Hungary it was a common incident to hear mention of these beings.
Doubtless! but very uncommon ever to chance to meet with one. I have travelled in Hungary, ladies, and although a great sight seeker, have never been able to get a glimpse at such a supernatural object.
But surely you must have heard mention—
Excuse me, senor, but I am convinced these ladies would far prefer some other theme of conversation.
No doubt, my lord; but I believe you stated you had both arms and provisions; I do not see them.
They are in charge of my valet, whom I left struggling with the mule at the gate. Come, Lazare, this way—here!
Here I am, master—that is, all that is left of me. I really could not believe a man could be so courageous as not to die of fright.
Why, I declare, it's that poltroon, Lazare!
Can you consider where I am, and call me a poltroon ? Well, I declare! there they are, all alive and kicking!
My good friend !
Ah, senora—so here you are!
Did no other person call at the hostelry, except your master ?
Not a living soul. If there had, believe me, it's ten to one I should not be serving whom I am now!
You do not eat, my lord.
The fact is, the cold has taken away all my appetite.
I should only wonder if any one could have any appetite up here!
Why not? I see no difference between this castle and any other.
That's because you don't know what once took place here.
What, at Tormenar ?
Well, then, as each person has told some tale or other, we'll now here that of Lazare's.
What, tell the story of Tormenar at Tormenar! Catch me at it!
Why not ?
Why not ? Why, because before it was half over, some hobgoblins would come down the chimney, or through the keyhole, and tell me to mind my own business.
Come, a few mouthfulls of wine will give you confidence.
That I won't refuse.
Thank you. Well, then, her goes. Once upon a time—another drop if you please.
There, take the bottle.
Just the thing, senor—I then shall be able to add fuel to the fire, when it
gets low. As I have already remarked, ladies and gentlemen, once upon a time,
there was a Baron of Tormenar—well, this Baron of Tormenar was a great rogue,
Not a bit—for he never expected them when he invited them.
How can that be ?
Why, because he had taken good care they should never arrive, for he had arranged that their throats should be cut on the road; he therefore inherited all their property, as he had both them and their children murdered.
This is the first we hear of the children!
Oh, I forgot them. Well, never mind—he therefore inherited the three castles.
Two you mean, as one belonged to him already.
Of course ; but it was fated he never was to enjoy his illgotten wealth, for each time he went to sit at table, the shadow of one of his brothers, with his throat cut, sat opposite him, and when he wanted to go to bed he found the shadow of the other tucked up under the clothes there before him.
The senor has an amazing susceptibility. So our Baron of Tormenar, not daring to visit any of his castles, and no doubt, having no other castle to go to except his his three castles, made up, all at once, his mind to become religious ; so he confessed his sins, made a monk of himself, and died in holy sanctity, leaving a nephew, twenty times removed, heir to the property. Since that time, the castle has been abandoned, and has fallen in ruins, and if ever, by chance, any travellers attempted to pass the night in it, the next morning one or two were safe to be found done for.
Why so, my lord ?
Why, generally the last comer is the doomed one, and as I was the last to enter the castle. If any harm is to happen, I suppose the preference will be given to me.
I think I've said quite enough.
But this nephew, twenty times removed, whom you spoke of—why does he not visit the place, and have it put in some repair.
Why, because he'd rather not, for they whenever the owner of Tormenar shall cross it's threshold, he'll never cross it again, except to be carried to his grave.
Don Luis!
I've got it! Don Luis de Rigoro.
Oh, lord ! how you frightened me !
Silence—not another word!
What have I done? You would force me to tell all I knew !
Oh, I'm as dumb as an oyster.
Did you not hear, count, Don Luis de Rigoro, and each time the heir to these domains crosses the threshold of this place he dies !
Do you not think, count, that it would be better for us to seek out some
place where the ladies could pass the night ?
True, my lord. Now, marquis, will you aid me in searching for some spacious bedroom for the ladies ?
Capital—and you, senora ?
I will pass the night here, on a chair.
Nay, here it would be be impossible, with the draught from yonder broken
window.
Shall I watch while you slumber ?
No, count, these are childish follies, which I must conquer. I will occupy the room.
'Tis my lord, taking leave of you, senora.
Where does your lordship intend to pass the night ?
Think not of me; no doubt I shall find some place or other.
Well, then, so we are settled. That special hour of ghosts and phantoms has passed without any accident, except the arrival of a new and welcome companion. The cut-throats and robbers seem inclined to leave us in tranquil possession of Tormenar, and as for the ghoules and vampires, we seem to be beneath their notice.
Goodnight—good night.
Count, and fair senora, farewell till morning.
At his peril!
He need not be so peremptory about it, for if he'd ordered me to follow, I don't think I should have done it.
Why not ?
Pass the night here, if you like—I have no objection.
It seems there can be no choice in the matter.
I shall be here, quite near, and you will not be even able to utter a sigh without me hearing.
My generous protector! Heaven bless you, brother.
I place my faith above. What he decrees must—
Poor thing! she struggles hard to keep up her spirits. This continued absence
of Don Luis is indeed strange !
Leave her alone, senor, it will do her good. I only wish I could have a good
cry, then I should be all right.
Oh, oh! San-ta Ma-ri-a!
What is it ? speak!
Oh, oh, oh! there's something or somebody in that room—
How know you that?
Because I tumbled over it.
Silence, for your life ! show a light!
Not if I know it.
Why did I ever come a ghost hunting—it will be my turn next!
Lord Ruthven ! in Juanna's room!
And the assassin !
Has escaped by the window, no doubt! Marquis.
I swear it!
But is there no hope ?
None. Do you swear ?
I do, most sincerely.
Thanks. Remember, Count Gilbert, the moon beams—your oath!
Thanks, Gilbert, thou hast kept thy word.
Come, friends, we must lose no time, for ma'amselle will soon be stirring. Everything must be in good order, to welcome home our young master, Count Gilbert, after his absence of two years. But here comes Ma'amselle Helene.
Thanks, my kind friends—not for myself, but for my dear brother, whom I see you have not forgotten, and who, though absent for now some long period, has never neglected to recommend the welfare of his tenantry to my earnest care.
Long life to Monsieur Gilbert.
Certainly, ma'amselle—but he had already left home, his valet told me that in the middle of the night a messenger on horseback had arrived from Nantes, and forced them to awake his master, and after a conversation of a few minutes with him, his lordship had ordered one of his horses, and had started off where he was ignorant of.
Without leaving a note or a message for me?
Oh, yes, he begged them to acquaint you of his departure, and to say he should return by mid-day, and the valet was just coming over when I arrived there.
Then he will not fail—I know him well.
My dear, long wished for brother!
Escape! In heaven's name, dear Gilbert, explain! Have you been in danger ?
Calm those fears, my dear, little, affectionate sister, the danger's past, and being a mystery to me, would for ever have been a secret to all, but for my good Lazare here, whose prudence almost equals his courage.
Courage is all very well, but when one's had a very narrow escape of one's life, it's a commodity not always within on's reach.
Believe me, dear Helene, you as well as Lazare greatly exaggerate the whole matter, although I confess it smacks both of romance and mystery. The facts are, that we had just got to the cross roads, when I perceived a poor beggar woman dressed as one of our old Bretons—I stopped my horse, and held out my hand to her with a few coins, when she suddenly caught hold of my cloak, drew me down towards her, and I believe she really kissed me!
But what is stranger still, as she drew me towards her, I heard the explosion of a fire arm, and a bullet whistled past my ear—so had it not been for this good woman I should have been a dead man.
Oh, heaven!
My first instinct was to turn towards where the shot came from, but my unknown protector, striking my horse, with a branch, exclaimed "Fly for your life !" Off darted my horse over hedge and ditch, like a fury, it was impossible to keep him back—I heard a second shot, but I was out of all danger.
And this woman, who had saved you?
I turned round to try to get a glimpse of her, but she had vanished.
And so had I—I never had such a gallop in my life; that I've a morsel of
breath left in my body is a phenomenon not to be accounted for ; besides—
However, I'll not enter into details.
We will have this female sought after. I am certain that every one will love and cherish her for having saved the life of one so dear to us all.
My good sister !
So Monsieur Lazare is in your service?
Partly so—he has followed me out of pure affection.
And no other earthly motive, believe me, ma'amselle—for I'm well to do in the world.
He inherited from a former master—
Who met with a slight accident, and died from its consequences—a most respectable individual, for he kept his breath in his body especially to tell Monsieur le Comte I was to be sole heir and legatee ; for I am convinced, Monsieur Gilbert, what he whispered to you when he fell by that fatal door, was, "I haven't time to make a will, but yonder is my good Lazare, who has faithfully served me during— during—" in fact, I did faithfully serve him, although I was in his service but an hour and a half. "I bequeath to that estimable domestic all I possess; and the only regret is, that I haven't more to leave him." Now wasn't that, monsieur, what he told you, when you held him expiring in your arms ?
Did he then, meet his death by accident or treachery ?
Of course not, monsieur, but as you said to me on our travels, just six months ago to-day, if within six months no one claims the valise and money of your late master, it is yours. I now therefore, make my claim in due form.
True—true. Take the valise, it is yours—but leave me for a few moments.
Oh, thanks, my dear Monsieur Gilbert. How right I am to be attached to you—I
follow you everywhere. I am now rich, but although I can no longer remain your
valet, believe me you will ever find me a sincere friend.
He seems melancholy. I am now, indeed, glad that he has not seen George before learning the whole truth from my lips.
Come, my good little sister, and sit here by my side.
As an only sister can love!
What did you say, Gilbert ?
Nothing—nothing, dear Helene! So, then, at last you have consented to reward our good Philippe for the love and devotion he has shown us both since infancy.
Dear Gilbert, I have at last been taught the difference between affection and friendship.
But Philippe!
Like the true and loyal heart you had ever known him, has quitted Brittany till he can look on me, dear Gilbert, as a sincere and attached friend. Nay, do not frown ; for months have I vainly endeavoured to shake off the influence that another has gained over me.
But dear Helene, is this affection of yours reciprocated?
Indeed it is! and by one who is fully worthy of my affection, and for whom, dear brother, you will have no cause to blush.
But his name !
The Earl of Marsden, an English nobleman. Gilbert. Is he handsome ?
Of course it is but natural that I should think him so, but you will be able to judge for yourself, for he will be here at midday.
Well, since my own dear Helene has given him all her heart, I suppose I must manage to spare him part of mine ; but see, here are all the villagers in their holiday clothes.
Pardon, Monsieur and Ma'amselle, the lads and girls of the village have got up a little fete in honour of Monsieur Gilbert's return, if you will do them the honour to witness it.
Certainly; let them proceed at once!
At last! You will receive him kindly, Gilbert, will you not, for my sake?
Fear not, dear sister!
Good Heavens!
Good morning, count!
You the Earl of Marsden!
And your most humble servant.
Gilbert! George! what does this mean ?
Doubtless the recollection of an incident that once happened to us.
You, then, know my brother!
I do!
You are acquainted with the Earl of Marsden?
Dear Helene, leave us for a few moments, I would exchange a few words with this gentleman !
Do not forget what you promised me !
Real flesh and blood—do you regret it?
I who saw you lay weltering in your blood, who laid you a corpse on the cold earth! impossible!
Why so, my dear count ? This is not the first time a deep wound has not proved mortal. Have you never heard of a death-like trance ? I was deeply wounded, and in a trance which to all appeared as if life were extinct, the morning breeze revived me, and on my recovering my senses, I found myself alone. I cried for help! luckily I was heard by a mountain guide, who carried me to his cottage ; and, thanks to the assiduous care of his wife and daughter, I was restored to life. No sooner could I move out, but I tried to find and acquaint you with my miraculous escape, but as it was impossible to get any tidings of you, I determined to start at once for Brittany, feeling sure that sooner or later you would return to your native home. It was a debt of gratitude I was bound to fulfil, for had it not been for you, I might have been buried and suffocated while in my trance. Fate ordained that I should meet your lovely sister. I loved her and was happy enough to create a sympathetic feeling between us, and to-day I am most happy once again to meet and ask you for that hand which her heart has already freely granted me.
But at Tormenar you called yourself Lord Ruthven—how is it I find you here, under another name.
Since our last meeting, count, my elder brother has died! I have therefore inherited both his title and estates.
Pray excuse me, my lord, for my questions, which must doubtless weary your patience.
Proceed, count—satisfy yourself.
Why, then, did you hide from Helene that we were acquainted?
Why, our acquaintance was but of short duration ; besides, count, you accidentally assailed my life! Not knowing if you wished your sister to be made aware of this, I thought it was best to be silent until your return.
Everything, dear Helene! the count could not
Yes, Helene, for I feel a cold shudder all over me.
Yes, ma'amselle!
The woman who saved my life.
Dear Gilbert!
My dear sister ! Come—come, do not leave me!
Does he suspect ? Ay, he does ! I must be convinced who that woman is, and
what she said to him—she shall not cross his path again.
Well, I never passed a more pleasant day in all my life ! What unknown
delight it is to count over one's riches. I feel myself a person of
importance—and of course I am an
I see that like a good and faithful servant, you have taken care of your master's property. I shall, for the future hold you up as a model to all confidential valets. You can convey the valise you have in your hand, there, to my apartment.
Saint Dominic help me!
I shall have to silence that idiot's tongue—but that will be an easy task—and now to seek out this unknown protector of Gilbert, if she be mortal she shall not escape my revenge !
Ah, my dearest betrothed! thanks for this speedy return to the arms of your
devoted slave!
Oh, George! Some supernatural power, the same you ever seem to have over me, seems to drag me back to this spot —this spot where we first met, and where we first exchanged our vows of love and constancy.
Dear Helene, my heart sinks within me when I think I may lose that happiness so nearly within my grasp. Did the cold reception I received from your brother pass unobserved by you ?
Nay, fear him not; Gilbert has always left me free mistress of my heart and hand. Perhaps at first he might have been a little disappointed—you know he had set his heart on my marrying Philippe—but I thought you perfectly understood each other ?
True—he shook my hand cordially, and all seemed amicably arranged—when suddenly his manner altered to one of freezing coldness. A single word, whispered by some one to him, had sufficed to create this change !
But who could have spoken to him?
Did you not observe an old beggar woman, who whispered to him ?
Doubtless the very person who this very morning saved his life!
Saved his life ?
I forget—you are not aware that Gilbert was fired at on his road hither; and had it not been for an old beggar woman, who catching hold of his cloak, drew him towards her, he would have been killed. Why do you smile ?
Then you really believe in this attempted murder ?
Why not?
Why ? But no, let us drop the subject altogether !
Do you think that Gilbert imagined it all ?
My dear Helene, have you well remarked the conduct of your brother since his return ?
Certainly—why do you ask?
I thought you might have remarked his strange manner—as for myself, save this wild story of attempted murder, I think him much better—in fact, entirely cured.
Cured ! Pray explain yourself.
I sincerely regret, my dear Helene, to be first to announce such unwelcome news, but sooner or later you must have heard it. Know, then, that your brother has for months been bereft of his senses.
Mad! Gilbert mad!
Be not alarmed—he is now perfectly cured, and the best proof is, that you, his own sister, did not remark it.
But to what cause did you attribute it ?
To a terrible accident. Gilbert labours under a delusion that he has killed one of his friends.
For heaven's sake tell me how.
The facts are these—about six months ago, we happened to meet at an old
deserted castle in Spain, where several benighted travellers had sought refuge
from the inclemency of the weather; suddenly we were all awoke by the screams of
a young Spanish senora, named Juanna—I instantly rushed to her aid, but through
some unaccountable accident, received, full in my chest, the contents of a
pistol, fired by your brother. I instantly fainted, and I believe, was carried
Oh, my poor brother !
You can now fully comprehend in what an awkward position I stand with him, and how right my apprehensions are that he may oppose our union.
George, you know how dearly and faithfully I am devoted to you—I have promised to be yours, and yours only, and my word is sacred—let there be no delay—fix the hour at once! Does not that suffice ?
Thanks, my dear Helene! I will instantly seek the priest, and give orders to
prepare the chapel. Farewell, dearest, till we again meet to part no more.
What have I just heard ? My dear Gilbert stricken with such a calamity ! I
now remember his manner on seeing George was most strange—besides, he appeared
pale and careworn. Henceforth, it shall be the task of myself and husband to
alleviate his sufferings, and restore him to reason.
Safe! thank Heaven!
Where is this Ruthven—this Earl of Marsden ?
He has this instant left me.
The wretch!
Gilbert!
Where is he now ?
Doubtless in the chapel with the priest.
In the chapel! He would never dare darken the door of its holy precincts.
You forget this is our marriage day !
Marriage! My dear sister, you, an angel, unite yourself to this accursed demon !
For Heaven's sake speak not thus—consider, he is my husband.
Your husband ! Rather would I see you in your grave—I must and will see him!
At last! Leave us, Helene!
Stay, ma'amselle, I beg; I have nothing to conceal from my affianced wife, count!
Why, Gilbert ?
He knows too well. You see he dare not ask.
You wish it—be it so. Remain, Helene, and hear for whom you have slighted the noble heart of the companion of your childhood, and to whom you have plighted your virgin faith.
What will he say ?
Murderer of Juanna! whose blood seek you here ?
Murderer! Really, count, if either of us deserves that title, 'tis rather yourself than I. Who of us two was it, that fell nearly expiring to the ground, struck by the murderous arm of the other ?
Ay, answer that! I own that a bullet of mine pierced your heart, and that I laid you a lifeless corpse on the cold earth; answer—how is it then, that I find you here, standing alive before me ?
Good heavens !
I believe I explained that fully.
Yes, but what you did not explain was, why my life was attempted, and who was the being that sought it.
Count, this sounds very like an accusation.
It does—you know 'twas yourself.
Me ! Why should I seek your life ?
Ay, Gilbert, why?
Why, to sever from an innocent girl her only protector and adviser, that you might make her an easier prey, as one of your yearly victims. Shall I explain my meaning more fully ?
But dear brother, what can induce you to make such an accusation ?
A vision sent from Heaven.
By Heaven!
You are silent, Lord Ruthven !
What can I say, count?
Dear brother, calm yourself.
Coward! defend yourself, or this hand shall strike you down.
Help—help! Guillaume.
Monsieur Gilbert mad!
Yes, friends, that is what we sought to hide from you all, but the count himself has forced us to divulge the truth!
Mad or not, I will rid the earth of such a fiend !
My good friends, for your mistress's sake treat him gently, but do not lose sight of him for an instant, or he might attempt his life.
Dear Gilbert, for Heaven's sake remain not here!
Follow him, my dear bride—a sister's care may be more beneficial than any
surgical aid. Besides, 'twere as well, while such thoughts run through his
brain, that he be in close confinement, and that no stranger may have converse
Heaven bless you for it, dear George.
Now to hasten the nuptials! Fate itself shall not wrest her from my arms; and as for the demon who has denounced me to Gilbert, I have recognised her in spite of her disguise. By the master we both serve—wherever thou art, appear—appear!
I am here—what would you?
You have forfeited your existence—you have betrayed me.
I have not.
'Tis false. In the disguise of an old Breton— you saved Gilbert's life by the cross road.
Well, is not this my right ?
Why have you acted thus?
Because I love him.
Love him! Can such as we love ?
I love him.
And you expect to have your affection returned?
I hope so.
Then you know not that he is betrothed?
I care not ; when time requires it, I shall know how to act; in the meanwhile, I watch over Gilbert's happiness ; his sister's death would break his heart—Gilbert must live!
I will reveal to him who and what you are.
And that moment be exterminated for ever.
Do you then brave me?
No, I seek but to win Gilbert's heart by saving one who is dear to him from thy deathly embrace!
You know not what I am, when I hate !
Nor do you what I can be, when I love! Therefore, beware!
How beautiful she looks! I would spare her! But no, to encourage such a
feeling might lead to my own ruin.
I have faithfully kept my promised word, George, have I not ?
You have, indeed, dear Helene. I am the happiest of men.
Are you quite sure of that ?
Do you doubt me?
No, indeed, George, no woman can more fondly love than I do. Yet if a cloud now and then does overshadow my happiness, you must forgive me. I cannot forget that beneath this roof there is another being as wretched as we are happy.
Poor Gilbert!
Whom we have been obliged to confine, lest he should attempt your life. I should not like to retire for the night without seeing my poor brother again—let me go to him; dear George, to calm and soothe him by telling him how happy I am.
Your wishes are my commands, dear Helene— you are sovereign mistress here, yet—
Speak, George, speak.
I think it would be better for me to go to your brother, and try a last effort to reconcile him to our union—if it should fail, I will tell him, in order to bring tranquility for a short time to his fevered brain, that I resign all pretensions to you, and will depart.
But should you not succeed in restoring him to tranquility.
You shall then go yourself.
Be it so.
You do love me ?
Where I gave my hand, I gave my heart.
Thanks. I shall not be long.
Who could have been that old woman on whom I bestowed charity as we left the
chapel, who whispered to me these words—" Try and be alone for a few minutes,
for there is some one who would reveal a matter of great import to you." Heaven
is my witness that I do not doubt my husband, yet I cannot entirely chase
Gilbert's words from my mind. Oh, my dear mother, look down from above, and
guide your child how to act.
Lazare! what means this mystery ?
Extinguish the candles!
Yes.
Wherefore?
Because I've discovered there is such a thing as a conscience.
Conscience ! have you, then, any avowal to make to me?
Rather.
Approach, then.
There.
Ever since this morning I've been a dead man— I've been hid up in a garret, lest he should insist on taking me into his service again. But when I, by chance, heard by one of the servants who was kindly trying to comfort me, that poor Monsieur Gilbert was confined as mad, and that you, my dear young lady were to be united to the individual, although I'm a great coward, I plucked up courage, which I am sure my patron saint herself inspired me with—and left my hiding place. I determined to watch for the moment when you would be alone—
Well!
And as I saw my lord go down to your brother, so I popped up.
For what reason ?
To tell you your brother is no more mad than I am. In fact not so much.
What mean you?
I could not swear that my lord murdered Senora Juanna, because I didn't see
him do it—but that he was as dead as a door nail, and come back to life again by
some unaccountable patent, that I
Dead !
And no mistake—for I helped to carry his corpse out of the Castle of Tormenar, and what he whispered to Monsieur Gilbert just before giving up the ghost, I distinctly heard, although I've never said so before—it was "Count, I belong to a sect who never bury the dead."
Great Heaven!
"Promise, that as soon I shall be quite gone, place me on a rock, in the beams of the rising moon." And that's exactly what we foolishly did, instead of burying him fifty feet underground, and piling all the ruins of Tormenar on the top of him.
Then you believe, like Gilbert, that he was really dead ?
Most emphatically.
And that he was resuscitated through some supernatural power?
Exactly.
And the man who yesterday attempted Gilbert's life—
I'm confident was he; and I've no doubt I shall be the next one he'll want to
put out of the way, in spite of all his gammon about my integrity. The purse he
gave me—
Then Gilbert was right—I am lost. Let us fly!
He's coming back.
Heaven protect me!
No chance of the door—I'll try the window.
You see I have soon returned, dear Helene. Your brother was asleep, and I
would not disturb him.
Dearest, I never had much colour, through the quantity of blood I lost by the wound I received from your brother.
But your pallor, George, appears more like that of a corpse than a human being.
What mean you, Helene ?
I can hardly say, but for the first time you seem to inspire me with a secret dread.
Why do you tremble—give me your hand.
Yours has the icy grasp of death !
Speak not thus, my dear wife! Let this fond embrace reassure you.
Touch me not, for Heaven's sake! It seems to me as if the grasp of death was on me.
Helene, who has been here during my absence ?
No one—no one!
Not a moment then is to be lost?
Why do you close the door ?
Are we not united for ever—are you not my bride?
For Heaven's sake, my lord—
We were not alone, then ?
Save me—save me! Help—help!
Your cries are useless—you are Ruthven's bride.
Help—help!
'Tis too late—none can tear you from my grasp.
He had me bound, but I burst my bonds—I darted past the four men who tried to hold me back. My unknown friend, the gipsey, again warned me of my sister's danger. Where is Helene ?
Oh, Helene, my dear sister!
This time I'll do for him, and no mistake.
What can be the meaning of the noise, and that piercing scream which came from the bridal chamber, ringing through the whole castle !
Monsieur Gilbert has escaped from his keepers, and burst his chains.
Dead! I was too late!
What can have happened?
Lazare! what does all this mean ?
Follow me, my friends, to Ma'amselle Helene's apartment. Heaven grant that my fears may prove unfounded !
I could but avenge you, Helene!
This time I will inherit, and no mistake !
There, ma'amselle, the passengers are landing from the vessel we first saw but as a speck on the horizon this morning, and the other is standing for the harbour. I'd lay something handsome that Monsieur Gilbert is in one of them.
You're right there, Ziska, for if you knew Count Gilbert, you'd know he never
fails when he has given
Lor, ma'amselle, I had very little to do with it. If any thanks are due it is to Ziska yonder, who merits them all.
I seek not for thanks—I have but followed the dictates of my heart.
What a strange being!
And what eyes! there's no mistake about them! I'm sure I've seen those eyes somewhere before !
But how did you first meet her ?
Why, you see, ma'amselle, Monsieur Gilbert said to me, "Lazare, my friend," for since I have inherited, we are on terms of great intimacy. " Lazare, my friend, start instantly for Naples, and prepare a suitable abode to receive my dear affianced bride, according, therefore, for Naples I started, and on arriving here I saw this little villa, situated on a rock, overlooking the bay, which I thought was just the thing, and, therefore I settled on it at once—this done, Ziska suddenly appeared, and informed me she had served the former tenants; liking her appearance, and thinking she'd form a very good companion for me to have a sentimental walk with by the seaside in a summer evening, I instantly engaged her, and she has turned out a first rate acquisition.
Indeed she has—she anticipates my slightest wishes. But why did Gilbert entreat me to leave France, and come here ?
Doubtless he has some private reason.
I can fully understand, that after the sudden death of his dearly beloved sister, France should have become hateful to him—but why not let me return to Spain, my native country, instead of coming to Italy, where I have neither friends nor relations.
Why ? why, because it's in Spain where we first met
Well, then, England ?
No, that's where
Of whom are you speaking, Lazare?
Why, of Monsieur Gilbert's mortal enemy.
Has Gilbert an enemy ?
And such an one too! And so should I have, if he came back again—for I've spent nearly half my inheritance.
What do you mean by—If he came back again ?
Why, he's already been back once, although my lord Gilbert killed him quite as well the first time as he did the second.
Gilbert take the life of a fellow being!
But he wasn't a fellow being, so that makes all the difference. But I was wrong to mention the matter to you at all, so please ma'amselle, never let out the name of Ruthven to Monsieur Gilbert, if you don't hear it first from him.
Ruthven!
That's how he was called.
I hope she you choose may prove worthy of you.
Thank you, ma'amselle—I've no doubt she will, for I intend to well look before I leap. Besides, I flatter myself of being a fair physiognomist, and a perfect judge of the opposite sex. Well, I sincerely hope to see Count Gilbert back soon, and with an object, the loss of which seems to prey so heavily upon his mind.
What object do you allude to ?
Why, a certain amulet that had been in the family for years, which poor
Ma'amselle Helene had on the night of his death, and which disappeared in a most
mysterious way, and was never since heard of, although Monsieur Gilbert has
offered fabulous sums for its recovery. But time fleets on, and my dear little
Fenella will be waiting for me.
Dear Antonia!
Thanks, my dear affianced bride, for yielding to my entreaties.
Did you for a moment doubt I should ? But why all these measures?
After the death of my dear Helene, you know I left France, and passed nine months with you at Cadiz ; having gained your parents' consent to our union, I returned to Brittany, to prepare the home of my ancestors for the reception of my future bride; having arrived there, I determined to pass a night in the chamber where I had been once warned of danger threatening those dear to me. Heaven must have given me inspiration, for again a vision appeared, warning me that the fiend followed my steps, and but sought the opportunity of discovering the idol of my heart to destroy it. I then instantly wrote, begging you not to come to Tiffanges, but instantly proceed to Naples, and now I have you in these arms, I will lose not a moment in calling you mine, and this very night all is prepared for me to lead you to the altar.
To be united to part no more.
I thank Heaven that you are out of the reach of all danger.
Ah, Ziska, my faithful friend ! I know you will be rejoiced to hear my approaching happiness.
Who is that female ?
A faithful attendant, who has zealously served me since my arrival here.
Doubtless such a traveller as you have been may have met her before. However, I'll leave you for a short time, so you may converse together about the scenery of her native Africa.
Why leave me, dear Antonia ?
The bride of Gilbert requires another dress than this for her wedding garb. I shall not keep you long waiting ; a plain wreath is all I require—for the brightest gem I bring Gilbert is the purity of the love I bear him.
Why cast that menacing look at Antonia—it did not escape me ?
I hate her.
We have met before, have we not? —but where?
Ingrate.
I now remember—you bear the features of the old Breton that saved my life, and who warned me of the fate of my poor sister.
I am glad to see you do not forget me!
What being are you who can thus change form and visage at your pleasure ?
Would that I could change my heart too!
Why thus follow my steps ?
Can you not guess ?
No.
I love you, Gilbert.
Has your heart no answer to me for those words ?
None—your manner makes me tremble.
And that is your only reply to me who has watched over you like a guardian spirit, and done all that a loving heart could do!
Yet you did not save my sister.
I dared not—I would have saved her had it been in my power. Look at me, Gilbert, and read from the depths of your heart if you could not love me!
How can you ask, when you know I am betrothed to Antonia ?
Gilbert, I am immortal, but for your love would willingly sacrifice all—cast me not from you.
Your happiness is but a dream—beware, lest I should wake you from it.
Indeed! then you have sealed her fate. Farewell! you will remember me when I
am no longer here to shield those you hold dear. Gilbert, your dream of
happiness is at an end—let destiny take its course.
What dreadful words are those? Antonia! Antonia!
What a noble sentiment valour is!
Help! murder! Santa Maria! murder !
What is the matter?
You're lost—I've seen him.
Him! who?
Bogy—old Nick—my Lord!
Ruthven! Impossible!
Not at all impossible—I've seen him as I now see
She was right—the dream of happiness has past, indeed ! Leave me !
Most willingly. I only wish I could find a place to hide myself out of his
way. I wouldn't mind the bottom of the crater of Vesuvius, only I'm afraid it
would be too hot to hold me. I wonder what's the matter with my teeth—they will
keep chattering against each other, and won't keep quiet— I'm sure I shall bite
off the top of my tongue in a minute. Oh, Santa Maria! where shall I be this
time to-morrow ? no doubt a piteously mangled object.
Well, Gilbert, spoke I the truth ?
Woman, being, or whatever thou art—for I have of late seen things so strange
and incredible, that I have no longer faith in my own reason. Forgive my late
folly in disbelieving you—behold me a suppliant at your feet. Save her, and I am
yours—your slave for ever.
At last!
'Tis impossible.
Tis beyond my power to grant it.
I'm here, dear Gilbert—see my wedding wreath !
A funeral one would be more suited now.
What mean these words, Gilbert—you are pale!
Ay, dear girl, curse me, for I have linked you to my fatal destiny.
But we will fly if danger menaces. Besides, are you not at my side to protect me ? What, then, have I to fear ?
But he would seek us in the remotest corner of the universe. Has not this hand thrice laid him low ? Oh, torture! but rather than see you fall a victim to his embrace of death, this hand shall rid this earth of both.
I know not what you mean, Gilbert—but in life and death I am yours, and yours only.
Heaven bless thee!
And now, dearest, let us offer up one last prayer, and then bid farewell to this accursed life for ever ! I have here a deadly poison, which has never quitted me for years.
Stay!
You still here to gloat on our misery !
Gilbert, judge me not too hastily. Girl, leave us for awhile.
If you would see her saved, bid her leave us!
But should he—
I swear, by the love I bear you, she shall be saved !
Can I trust you ?
Can you still doubt me? Bid her go or it will be too late!
Leave us, dearest!
Oh, Gilbert!
Fear not, Antonia, we can but die together.
Ay, with Antonia.
You can save her ?
I can.
Why, then, allow my poor sister to be sacrificed ?
I had not then the power I now have.
What means can be employed to preserve Antonia ?
The only safeguard against the fiend, Ruthven, is to possess an amulet, a cross worn by one of his former victims. Behold it!
My sister's long lost amulet.
On the night of her death, I stealthily snatched it from her corse; I took
it, thinking I might some day save an innocent virgin, and exterminate Ruthven—I
little dreamt it would serve to save my own rival—but not a moment is to be
lost.
Run instantly, and place this round Antonia's neck !
But—
On your life lose not an instant.
What does all this mean ?
Ruthven's term of existence terminates this night at the stroke of twelve. Actuated by a feeling of revenge, he has but sought to make your bride his yearly victim—he waited for you at Tiffanges, feeling sure you would return there ere your wedding. He has followed your steps—and has her now, as he thinks, in his grasp—should he not discover his mistake till too late to seek for another victim, ere the clock strikes midnight, he is exterminated for ever.
Thanks—thanks! Heaven will reward you.
No, no—I dare not hope it!
What means this weakness—this pallor ?
Can you not guess?
I will fly for aid.
No mortal aid can save me. In giving your bride life I sacrifice my own ?
Beings like us are bound by terrible bonds! In giving means to exterminate
another, and betraying him, I but condemn myself to everlasting torture. I could
have saved her, and yet have not sacrificed myself, had I not divulged who
Ruthven was—but then, Gilbert, not knowing the obligation, you would not have
cherished my memory as I trust you now will. Besides, I could not exist to see
you in another's arms.
Oh, Ziska!
I die happy, for I ensure your happiness, although it be with a rival—you,
then, can judge if I did not love you!
Well, Matteo, but what does all this mean ?
Why, it's strange enough. First, down comes the Signor Lazare, and tells me
to shut up all the doors and barricade all the windows, and to fire upon the
first person who approached. No sooner had I posted myself in the garden, than a
strange sort of gentleman hails me, and says, "Should you like to make your
fortune ?" "Of course I should," says I. "Well, then," he says, throwing this
purse—
But should this young Frenchman, the affianced husband, try to prevent our carrying out our plan!
Why, then, if words won't settle him, our stilettos must.
Nonsense, man, everything has its price, and ten purses of gold would buy all the consciences in Naples. So come along, and let's gain our money in a business-like way.
I can hardly believe my senses at what has just past. Poor Ziska ! thou hast,
indeed, proved thyself a martyr to thy affection—for no sooner had she breathed
her last, than her form seemed to melt into air, and left but a shapeless mass
of clothing in its place. I will pray for you, poor martyr, and cherish your
memory for having saved her whose existence was all to me on earth!
Oh, oh ! Oh, it's all over with us ! there are more of them now, although I should never have dreamt that they belonged to the sect.
Explain yourself.
Why, no sooner had I done what Ziska told me, and placed that amulet round
Ma'amselle Antonia's neck— By
Yes—go on !
Well, I had no sooner placed it round her neck— now what a sly minx Ziska was, never to tell me that she had it—than in walked those two scoundrels, our two servants, Scopetto and Matteo, whom I'd engaged for their good looks— they knocked me down, took up Ma'amselle Antonia in their arms, and off they bolted with her.
And you not to prevent them! Follow me! the fiend has not dared show himself.
Heaven grant that Ziska has not deceived me!
Will they come ? If not, I am lost. This feeling of revenge towards Gilbert, to snatch his bride from his arms at the very nuptial hour has made me forget all else. But thanks to fate, she will be mine, and the year I wasted in seeking for her, and her alone, which has endangered my whole existence, will not have been idly spent. The chapel is prepared for Gilbert and Antonia's wedding—in a short time it will be a funeral, and not nuptial service, that will be required.
Here, signor—you see we've kept our word.
You mean the young signora no harm, do you? I should be sorry to see her injured, for she's a regular angel!
His voice ! then not a moment is to be lost!
What fiend of hell has done this ? She bears an amulet, which annihilates my
power. Who has done this? I am betrayed — she is beyond my reach ! Curse on this
infatuated feeling of revenge, which made me neglect my own safety. I will
hence-some other victim must be found ere the hour strikes, or I am lost for
ever.
Let me pass, I say!
Fiend, repent! for your hour is at hand!
Never—let me pass! or this moment is your last!
Repent, ere it be too late!