Page:Blackwood's Magazine volume 046.djvu/243

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1839.]
Pietro d'Abano.
235

said Crescentia, with a sigh—and now for the first time he remarked that she had been weeping bitterly. She trimmed the lamp, and preceded him in silence. He followed her up the narrow steps; and when they had entered the small dark chamber, the maid placed the lamp on a table, and was in the act of retiring. However, when she got to the door, she turned round and surveyed the young man with a death-like glance; she stood for a moment trembling before him, and then, uttering a loud shriek, fell in convulsions at his feet. "What ails you, my dear child!" said he, lifting her up. "Be composed, and tell me your affliction." "No," cried the weeping damsel, "let me lie where I am. Would to God that I could die this moment at your feet! This is too dreadful. And I can do nothing. I cannot prevent it. Dumb and powerless, I must be a spectator of the infernal deed. Alas! You are a doomed man."

"Collect yourself," said Antonio, comforting her, "and tell me plainly what is the meaning of all this."

"I resemble," said she, in a voice broken by violent sobs—"I resemble, you say, your dead love, and yet I am she whose hand must lead you to a murder-grave. It is easy for my mother to foretell that some terrible danger is near you, knowing as she does the company—that harbour nightly in this den. No man ever went forth alive out of this hell. Every moment brings nearer and nearer the steps of the dreadful Ildefons and the accursed Andrea, with their helpmates and followers. And yet I can do nothing but be the herald of your death. I can afford you no help, and no means of escape."

Antonio became alarmed. In considerable agitation, he groped for his sword, and examined the point of his dagger: and then he felt his courage and determination revive. Ardently as he had wished for death, he now felt that there was something too dreadful in meeting it in a robber's den. "But you, my girl," said he—"you, with such a countenance, and such a form—how can you consent to be the companion and helpmate of these murderous ruffians?"

"I cannot escape," answered she, "otherwise how gladly would I fly this house. And, alas! it has been determined that to-morrow I shall be carried away across the sea—the wife of Andrea or Ildefons. Would to God that I might perish now!"

"Come," cried Antonio, "the door is open. Fly with me—the night—the wood will protect us."

"Behold," said the maiden, "how strongly the windows are secured by thick iron stanchels. The door of the house is fastened with a great lock, the key of which my mother never parts with. Did you not observe how she turned the bolt immediately after you bad entered the house?"

"We might despatch the old hag," said Antonio, "and then obtain possession of her key."

"Murder my mother!" cried the maiden, turning pale, and clinging to Antonio, so that he could not stir hand or foot.

The young man quieted her apprehensions. He then proposed, that as the old woman was intoxicated and fast asleep, they could softly abstract the key from her side, then open the door and escape. Crescentia appeared to have some hopes of the success of this plan. They therefore descended gently into the lower chamber, in which they found the old woman still sleeping soundly. Crescentia, with trembling hands, sought and found the key, and after some time, succeeded in loosening it from her girdle. She made a sign to the youth: they softly approached the door, and cautiously inserted the key into the lock: Antonio was in the act of forcing back the bolt with a firm noiseless hand, when he found that another person was, at the same moment, turning the lock from the outside. The door opened, and there stood before him, face to face, a huge savage-looking man. "Ildefonso!" shrieked the maiden; and the youth recognised, at the first glance, the murderer of his father—Roberto.

"What is the meaning of this!" said the robber, in a hoarse voice, "How came you by the key!"

"Roberto!" exclaimed. Antonio. seizing the ruffian furiously by the throat. They struggled violently together; but the strength and activity of the youth at length prevailed: he hurled the miscreant to the earth, and planting his knee upon his breast, plunged his dagger into his heart. Meanwhile the old dame awoke with loud cries: she sprang up, and tore away her daughter from the scene of strife, with shrieks and