Penny Dreadful Multipack Vol. 1 (Illustrated. Annotated. 'Wagner The Wehr-Wolf,' 'Varney The Vampire,' 'The Mysteries of London Vol. 1' + Bonus Features) (Penny Dreadful Multipacks) (18 page)

And the old lord’s tone changed
suddenly from the deep, touching pathos of tremulousness to a stern, fixed,
cold severity, which stifled the germs of hope that had taken birth in the
heart of his guilty wife.

“Mercy! mercy!” she shrieked,
endeavoring to grasp his hand.

“No!” thundered the Count of
Arestino; and he rang violently a silver bell which stood upon the table.

“Holy Virgin, what will become of
me? For what fate am I destined?” implored Giulia, frantically.

The old nobleman approached her,
gazed on her sternly for nearly a minute, then bending down said, in a hollow,
sepulchral tone:

“Thou art doomed to eternal
seclusion in the convent of the Carmelites!”

He then turned hastily round and
advanced to the door, to which steps were already distinctly heard drawing near
in the corridor.

For an instant Giulia seemed
paralyzed by the dreadful announcement that had been made to her; but suddenly
a ray of hope flashed on her mind, and darting toward that part of the tapestry
behind which the robber was concealed, she said, in a low and rapid tone:

“Thou hast heard the fate that
awaits me. I charge thee to seek Manuel d’Orsini, and let him know all.”

“Fear not, lady; you shall be
saved!” answered Stephano, in a scarcely audible but yet profoundly emphatic
whisper.

She had only just time to turn
away when the count’s faithful valet, accompanied by three nuns, wearing their
black veils over their faces, entered the room.

Half an hour afterward the
Carmelite Convent received another inmate.

THE MARQUIS OF ORSINI

Upon
 
quitting the Arestino palace, the
Marquis of Orsini suddenly lost that bold, insolent, self-sufficient air with
which he had endeavored to deceive the venerable count, whose wife he had
dishonored.

For dishonor now menaced
 
him
!

Where could he raise the sum
necessary to liquidate the debt which he had contracted with the stranger at
the Casino, or gaming-house? And as the person to whom he found himself thus
indebted
 
was
 
a stranger—a total stranger to him, he
had no apology to offer for a delay in the payment of the money due.

“Perdition!” he exclaimed aloud,
as he issued rapidly from the grounds attached to the Arestino mansion; “is
there no alternative save flight? Giulia cannot assist me—her jewels are gone,
they are pledged to the Jew Isaachar—she was telling me so when the count broke
in upon us. What course can I adopt? what plan pursue? Shall the name of Orsini
be dishonored—that proud name which for three centuries has been maintained
spotless? No, no—this must not be!”

And in a state of most painful
excitement—so painful, indeed, that it amounted almost to a physical agony—the
marquis hastened rapidly through the mazes of the sleeping city, reckless
whither he was going, but experiencing no inclination to repair to his own
abode.

The fact of the diamonds of his
mistress having been pledged to Isaachar ben Solomon was uppermost in his mind:
for the reader must remember that he was unaware of the circumstance of their
restoration to Giulia—as it was at the moment when she was about to give him
this explanation that the old Lord of Arestino had interrupted their discourse.

The diamonds, then, constituted
the pivot on which his thoughts now revolved. They seemed to shine like stars
amidst the deep haze which hung upon his mind. Could he not possess himself of
them? The name of Orsini would be dishonored if the gambling debt were not
paid; and one bold—one desperate step might supply him with the means to save
himself from the impending ruin—the imminent disgrace.

But as the thoughts encouraged by
those simple words—“the diamonds”—assumed a more palpable shape in his
imagination, he shrank back dismayed from the deed which they suggested: for
gamester, debauchee, spendthrift as he was, he had never yet perpetrated an act
that could be termed a crime. The seduction of the Countess of Arestino was not
a crime in his estimation—oh! no, because man may seduce, and yet may not be
dishonored in the eyes of the world. It is his victim, or the partner of his
guilty pleasure, only, who is dishonored. Such is the law written in society’s
conventional code. Vile, detestable, unjust law!

To weigh and balance the reasons
for or against the perpetration
 
 of
a crime, to pause only for an instant to reflect whether the deed shall or
shall not be done—this is to yield at once to the temptation. The desperate man
who hovers hesitatingly between right and wrong, invariably adopts the latter
course.

And Manuel of Orsini was not an
exception to the general rule.

Silence, and calmness, and
moonlight were still spread over the City of Flowers, while the marquis pursued
the path leading to the suburb of Alla Droce. And the silver-faced stars shone
on—shone on, brightly and sweetly, as the young nobleman knocked at the
well-protected door of Isaachar ben Solomon.

For a long time his summons
remained unanswered; and he repeated it several times ere it received the
slightest attention.

At last a casement was opened
slowly on the upper story; and the Jew demanded who sought admittance at that
hour.

“’Tis I, the Marquis of Orsini!”
exclaimed the nobleman.

“A thousand pardons, my lord; I
come directly,” answered the Jew, not daring to offend a scion of the
omnipotent aristocracy of Florence, yet filled with some misgivings, the more
painful because they were so vague and undefined.

In a few moments Manuel was
admitted into the abode of Isaachar ben Solomon, who carefully barred and
bolted the door again, ere he even thought of alleviating his acute suspense by
inquiring the nobleman’s business.

“Deign to enter this humble
apartment, my lord,” said the Jew, at length, as he conducted the marquis into
the same room where he had a few hours previously received the bandit-captain.

“Isaachar,” exclaimed Manuel,
flinging himself upon a seat, “you behold a desperate man before you!”

“Alas! my lord, what can a poor,
aged, and obscure individual like myself do to assist so great and powerful a
noble as your lordship?” said the Jew in a trembling tone.

“What can you do?” repeated the
marquis: “much—everything, old man! But listen patiently, for a few moments
only. A noble lady’s fame, honor, reputation are at stake; and I am the guilty,
unhappy cause of the danger that threatens her. To minister to my necessities
she has pledged her jewels——”

“Yes, yes, my lord—I understand,”
said Isaachar, trembling from head to foot, “’tis a plan by no means unusual
nowadays in Florence.”

“Her husband suspects the fact,
and has commanded her to produce her diamonds to-morrow——”

“Her diamonds!” articulated the
Jew in a stifling tone.

“Yes,
 
her
diamonds
,” exclaimed Manuel emphatically; “and they are in your
possession. Now do you understand me?”

“I—I—my lord——”

“Let us not waste time in idle
words, Isaachar,” cried the marquis. “Will you permit this scandal to be
discovered, and involve the Countess of Arestino—myself—ay, and
 
yourself
,
old man, in danger, and perhaps ruin? Perhaps, did I say? Nay, that ruin is
certain to fall upon
 
her
—certain also to overwhelm
 
you
—for
the Count of Arestino is a councilor of state, and,”
 
 added Manuel, with slow,
measured emphasis, “
the dungeons of
the inquisition open at his commands
 
to receive the heretic or the Jew!”

Isaachar ben Solomon vainly
endeavored to reply; fear choked his utterance; and he sank trembling and faint
upon a low ottoman, where he sat, the picture of dumb despair.

“Ruin, then, awaits the countess,
ruin, and the inquisition yawn to ingulf you; and dishonor in having involved
that noble lady in such a labyrinth of perils attends upon me,” continued
Orsini, perceiving that his dark threats had produced the effect which he
desired.

“My lord—my lord,” gasped the
unfortunate Israelite, who could not close his eyes against the truth, the
terrible truth of the prospect submitted to his contemplation.

“It is for you to decide against
the ruin of one, two, three persons, yourself being he who will, if possible,
suffer most,” resumed the marquis, impressively—“it is, I say, for you to
decide between exposure and the inquisition on one hand, and the surrender of
those paltry diamonds on the other!”

“The diamonds, the diamonds, they
are gone!” exclaimed the Jew, his voice becoming almost frantic with the wild
hope that suddenly struck him of being able to shift the danger from his own head
to that of another. “The captain of banditti, Stephano Verrina, was here a few
hours ago, here, in this very room, and he sat where your lordship now sits!”

“Well, well?” cried the marquis,
impatiently; for his heart began to grow sick with the fear of disappointment
in respect to his plan of obtaining the diamonds of his mistress.

“And Stephano Verrina took them
from me—basely, vilely, wrenched them as it were from my grasp!” continued the
Jew.

“’Tis false! a miserable
subterfuge on your part!” ejaculated the marquis, starting from his seat and
striding in a menacing manner toward Isaachar ben Solomon.

“’Tis true!—I will give your
lordship the proof!” cried the Jew: and Manuel fell back a few paces. “Stephano
came and told me all. He said that the countess had pledged her jewels for the
sake of her lover—of you, my lord—you, the Marquis of Orsini. ’Twas to pay a
gambling debt which your lordship had contracted; and that debt was paid within
an hour or two from the moment when the sum was advanced on the diamonds.
Moreover,” continued Isaachar, still speaking in a rapid, excited
tone—“moreover, Stephano was hired by the countess to regain them from me!”

“Liar!” thundered the marquis,
again rushing toward the defenseless old man.

“Patience, my lord—patience for
an instant—and you will see that I am no utterer of base falsehoods. The
robber-captain examined the diamonds carefully—yes, most carefully—and, while
occupied in the scrutiny, he let drop expressions which convinced me that he
was hired by the countess. ‘The inventory is complete,’ he said, ‘just as it
was described to me by her ladyship. You are a worthy man, Isaachar,’ he added;
‘you will have restored tranquillity to the mind of this beautiful
 
 countess; and she will be
enabled to appear at court to-morrow with her husband.’ Now does your lordship
believe me?”

The marquis was staggered; for
several minutes he made no answer. Was it possible that the Countess of
Arestino could have employed the dreaded chieftain of the Florentine banditti
to wrest her diamonds from the possession of Isaachar? or had the Jew invented
the tale for an obvious purpose? The latter alternative scarcely seemed
feasible. How could Isaachar have learned that the sum raised was for the
payment of a gambling debt? Giulia would not have told him so. Again, how had
he learned that this debt had been paid within an hour or two after the money
was procured? and how had he ascertained that the countess had actually
required her diamonds to accompany her husband the count?

“Perdition!” ejaculated Orsini,
bewildered by conflicting ideas, suspicions, and alarms: and he paced the room
with agitated steps.

Nearly a quarter of a hour
elapsed—the silence being occasionally broken by some question which the
marquis put to the Jew, and to which the latter had his reply ready. And each
question thus put, and every answer thus given, only served to corroborate
Isaachar’s tale, and banish hope still further from the breast of the ruined
nobleman.

At length the latter stopped
short—hesitated for a few moments, as if wrestling with some idea or scheme
that had taken possession of his mind;—then turning abruptly toward the Jew, he
said in a deep, hollow tone—“Isaachar, I need gold!”

“Gold—gold, my lord!” ejaculated
the Jew, all his fears returning; “surely—surely, my lord, her ladyship will
supply you with——”

“Fool—dolt!” cried the marquis,
terribly excited; “do you not see that she herself is menaced with ruin—that
the villain Stephano must have kept the diamonds for himself? that is, granting
your tale to be true——”

At this moment there was an
authoritative knock at the house-door.

“This is Stephano Verrina
himself!” exclaimed the Jew. “I know his manner of knocking with the rude
handle of his sword. What can he want? What will become of me?”

“Stephano Verrina, say you?”
cried the marquis, hastily. “Then admit him by all means; and the possession of
the diamonds of the countess shall be disputed between him and me at the
sword’s point.”

Manuel d’Orsini was naturally
brave, and the desperate position in which he was placed, rendered his tone and
bearing so resolute—so determined, that Isaachar feared lest blood should be
shed in his dwelling.

“My lord—my lord,” he said in an
imploring tone, “depart, or conceal yourself——”

“Silence, signor!” ejaculated the
marquis; “and hasten to admit the captain of banditti. I have heard much of
Stephano Verrina, and would fain behold this formidable chieftain.”

The Jew proceeded, with trembling
limbs and ghastly countenance,
 
 to
obey the orders of the marquis; and in a few moments he returned to the room,
accompanied by Stephano Verrina.