The Genius (Carl Grosse)/Chapter 3
CHAP. III.
On my arrival I went straight to the church, and approached the little chapel, pointed out to me at the hovel. Looking through the bars, I saw Elmira prostrate before the altar. Her face was half veiled; I heard her sob; and her eyes instead of being fixed on the crucifix, frequently roamed with a kind of inquietude through the church, as if she expected somebody to whom she wished to devote her whole being.
Divine service was now over, and the devout flock thronged through the gates. At last, the door of the chapel opened, and Elmira also came forth. I ran behind the door, and she was going to shut it, when pausing, as if she recollected something she had forgotten, she stept back once more, to fetch a prayer-book, which she had left on her seat. She anxiously searched its leaves for something, and did not perceive me, I observed a little paper drop down on the ground, which I dexterously pickt up undiscovered. She went away seemingly vexed, when I called out without looking at the paper which had some writing on it: "Elmira, you have lost a paper here!"
She turned round; her knees began to totter, and rushing forwards to support her in my arms, she even forgot the fainting of terror and surprise, to snatch the paper from my hands, and carefully concealed it. "Have you read this paper?" asked she.
"No, Elmira."
"Are you sure of it?"
"Positively sure."
"This is exactly what I wished.—It was a letter from my aunt. I hope," added she with more composure, "you are not unwell? It has been a shocking night; you look paler than usual."
"A man should not mind trifles," answered I.
"Trifles?—Your mien and voice speak quite the reverse. For the present, Don Carlas, leave me alone. There arc some people in yonder aisle, that might watch us. Go behind the convent-garden; in a quarter of an hour my maid shall conduct you to my apartment in the outbuildings."
I bowed, and obsequiously retired to the assigned place, where in a short time, the soubrette came to me and in a much shorter still, I was in Elmira's drawing-room at her feet.
"It is well!" exclaimed she, "you are very hasty, Don Carlos."—The waiting-maid had just left the apartment.—"But how imprudent! When will you be more discreet. I don't like kneeling before me in a convent."
"Why, charming Elmira, not permit your confessor, to receive the sweet confession of your sins on his knees?"
"You are dreaming Carlos," replied she with a smile, "what do you mean by prating about a confessor and sins? Sure you don't imagine, that I have any thing to confess to you?"
"What a misunderstanding, Elmira! Yes, I own, that I thought as much. Do you only mean to divert yourself at my expence? Else, why this assignation, this mysterious visit?"
"Not so fast, Carlos, but wait the time with patience. Yours it is to protect distressed damsels, and you don't know, in what manner I wish to avail myself of your protection?"
"Is it so? Tell me then, Madonna, how I can be of use to you?" Here I rose coolly, and negligently placed myself by her side on the sopha.
"O could I but bend your stubbornness," continued she, "but I despair of it.—Hear then, Don Carlos, my secret—but first tell me, is your heart free still?"
"My heart free still?" replied I with melting accents: "who could ask such a question with less reason than Elmira? Have not you read in my eyes—in my language—that it doats on you? Be not cruel, but for one property lost return me another!"
"There—there—you mistake me again, It is not love I want; but only a little pity, a little sympathy. I wish to devote you to my interest. You are a frank and generous young man, who always felt friendship enough, not to deny me his assistance."
"You may rely on it, Madam; but you speak so problematically—I love plain-dealing!"
"Then learn the great secret: Carlos! I do love—" here she modestly fixed her eyes on the ground, and hid her face in her handkerchief, as if she wanted to conceal the rising blush.
"And whom do you love?"
"Alas! A young man."
"No doubt of that, Elmira," returned I with a forced laugh; "by the stars! you are very unfortunate."
"And he is a person accomplished too.—"
"The sadder still."
"Don't sport with me, Carlos, for my passion is unrequited,"
"That's the worst of all —But you should hope, Elmira; what influence soever I may have over him, I'll bestow it for your sake. But who is it? What's his name?" With all the rapture of eager expectation I kissed her hand, and hoped instantly to hear myself named. But what was my disappointment when she whispered in a serious tone:
"It is Don Antonio, your friend! Exercise for my sake all the influence you possess over him—but spare my honor."
This confession was a thunderstroke to me. My former loves had only been a struggle between caprice and vanity. The ladies had always more than half way met my advances, I had never experienced true resistance, and conscious of the impressions which I was able to make upon willing objects, my endeavours had savored of indifference, and my heart never opened to real tenderness, had thus far floated superficially on the level of short-lived desire. Thus the secure rose-bud, which frolicks wanton and wavering, for a while, in the caresses of kissing zephyrs, droops at last, an expanded flower, under the fading embraces of the sun.
Overwhelmed with sentiment, I bowed my head low to the ground: "Ah!" exclaimed I, Elmira, this is too much to bear!"
Her beauteous eyes dwelt on me for a moment: "be comforted," said the, I solemnly vow you friendship and esteem. Can you desire more?"
"Give me death," answered I, "I shall not live to see you in another's arms. Your pity or destruction!"
"Take courage, Sennor; your heart is noble. It cannot value friendship-less than love."
"I reject friendship; I abhor it; I scorn the remains of another's pity." Here I rose.—"One word more, Elmira, was the paper you dropt to day from Antonio?"
"No, Carlos, it was not.—Be a man; be my friend, I have offered you all I dare."
"That's too much, Elmira. What can life be to me deprived of all hope. Farewell, and live happy! I cannot think of persuading another to accept a heart, which to me alone would have been an eternity of bliss! Adieu, Elmira!" I kissed her hand, without being able to behold her face. Her heart beat audibly; her hand was in a violent tremor; I gently put it on her lap, and went to the door.
"How much am I mistaken in you, Don Carlos; but if you insist on going, come hither once more," I obeyed. "Kneel down." I fell in deep prostration at her feet. She clasped one of her hands about my neck, and, in roseate blushes, her angel's face inclined to mine. Her eyes swam in liquid fire. "One word more Carlos; pardon me! That Antonio is no other than thyself."—My senses vanished, I felt nothing more than a stormy bosom pressed convulsive on mine, two ardent lips, and glowing tears which bathed my cheeks.
When I recovered, her love-beaming eyes were fondly fixed on me. "Enchantress!" cried I, "how sweetly you compensate the anguish you made me endure."
"Always think so Carlos; I have sold thee my heart, but I hope not too dearly."
"Elmira; my whole being is thine. Each sentiment bears thy image. But pardon my diffidence. Can you tell me what the paper contains which you keep so anxiously concealed?"
"I can tell you, but will it avail to give you uneasiness? You had better let it rest."
"Your wish is my law; but I must confess, that I felt some curiosity of seeing it."
"Just as you please Carlos; but don't be agitated; I have more faith in my eyes and thee, than in this wretched paper."—She now produced it. It was either written with red ink or blood. These were its contents, with three crosses in lieu of signature:
"Countess Elmira Dacosta is hereby warned against Don Carlos de Leranden, who means to seduce her."
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"Where did you find it?" asked I somewhat alarmed.
"In my prayer-book."
"Do you know the hand?"
"No, but I suspect it. Let me tell thee a secret, Carlos. It is long since such mysterious papers have been circulating throughout Spain. Nobody knows the writing, and the writers interfere and govern all private transactions. You must, doubtless, have heard the story of Count Orello, who eloped with a young lady, without the consent of her parents, and those unknown Caballists. A week after, they were both found lifeless in the nuptial bed. Don Hermez disagreed with his father, and disappeared after having murdered him by command of that dread cabal. They only write with blood, and three crosses are their signet.
My astonishment naturally led me to ask Elmira, how she came to know all this?
"It has already been my lot," said she, "to feel their fatal influence; to relate the particulars now, would cost me my life; but depend on hearing them fully some day, and be not alarmed, as it has nothing to do with you or our reputation."
I now told her my adventure on the preceding night. She exclaimed marvelling: "I think the whole is a plot to part us. They could not foresee, that our meeting would terminate in this manner. They speculated rather upon my fear than the strength of my affection. Give me thy hand, Carlos, and let us swear, that nothing, not even death itself shall ever disunite us."
We both took the oath, with enthusiastic rapture, and dwelt, for some minutes, tranced with delight, in each other's arms.
"I have a proposal to make Carlos," whispered Elmira, with a look of celestial of frankness. "Let us now join these hands for ever. I have plenty of jewels and dresses; I'll follow thee any where, nay to the world's end if you desire it. No country is too remote, no cottage too humble for thy Elmira. I will henceforth know no other duty but that of pleasing my Carlos and sweetening his hours. Shall it be so?"
I was holding the adorable creature fast to my beating heart, and had only power to utter faltering these words: "Ah! Elmira, I do not deserve thee,"
"And why should you not? Come, come. 'Tis love for love. In half an hour, the priest will be ready to unite us in everlasting bliss."
My heart was too big with joy. I could only lisp my soul-felt consent.
"Now, come!" said she, leading me down a secret flight of steps. We passed through a long winding gallery, till the stopt at a door, and giving a gentle knock, cried: "Holy father, I am ready." A friar came out, and silently led the way to the altar, where he Joined our hands and gave us the usual blessing.
I cannot forbear to mention one circumstance, which very much alarmed me during the performance of the ceremony. Thrice a shrill whistling pierced the echoing porch, like the redoubled shriek of the nightly bat. Thrice Elmira turned pale, and at the fourth time, she fainted. Soon the vital spirits revived her shaken frame, she kissed me, and said, "Carlos, withdraw for the present, and meet me at night in my apartment."
The sun had already passed the meridian in his course; the day was sultry, and I sought the lonely shades of the grove. Some fresh breezes from the West braced my languid nerves, and the beautiful prospect of nature exhilarated the gloom of my agitated mind. The limpid rill appeared to me the emblem of a gladsome futurity; I only saw the rose-trees that nodded over its banks, without discovering the rocky bed, through which it painfully wrought its stream.
Evening came, and I found Elmira on her sopha, blooming in all the renewed charms of health and youthful fondness. Her bridal arms soon entwined my form, and gently pressed me close to her side. The hours glided away in ecstatic delight; we counted each minute lest it should steal away too fast, and yet they insensibly glided away. Midnight drew near, and we began to think more seriously of the preparations for enjoying the the first hymeneal repose. Elmira made an hundred proposals, each did away each, and we agreed on none. I was all compliance, and feasted my ravished eyes with the spectacle of the rich treasure, that had crowned my fervent passion.
Quite lost in contemplating the graces and attractions of my heavenly consort, I remarked, that she became somewhat pale; her eyes grew languid, and the ruby of her lips began to lose its incarnate hue. I gazed on her with astonishment, but ascribed this change, either to the reverberation of the tapers, or to my own illusion. Soon, however, the paleness augmented visibly, the fire of her eyes became suddenly extinct, her upper lip moved in convulsive tremor, her whole face seered to lengthen, and I exclaimed in broken and incoherent words, Heavens! Elmira, what ails thee?"—"I'm very well, my love:" returned she faltering. At the same moment her eyes grew quite dim, her teeth gnashed, and she wound herself towards me, in an agony of convulsions, a distorted mouth, and a ghastly stare—her ice-cold face sunk over mine, and her hands seized my arms with twitching violence. Terrified I rose, and could hardly get loose from her hold; I gently laid her on the sopha, when she uttered a loud groan, and instantly expired. I had lost the very power to call for help, but at last her woman entered the room.
No sooner did she see me in mute sorrow and despair at the feet of her beloved and now lifeless mistress, than a fresh scene of distress ensued, In such dreadful moments there is no distinction of birth or rank. The poor girl had lost a mother in her benefactress; a torrent of impetuous feelings made her fall half-senseless on the corpse; pouring out a thousand lamentations, and embracing with distracted tenderness its pallid cheeks and chilled limbs. Her attachment to Elmira had been invariable, no wonder therefore that her grief was boundless. Orphan-like she bemoaned a parent gone, and ultimately overpowered, by the weight of her doleful sensations, she, too,—sunk unconscious on the floor.
It was long before she recovered her reason. She ran for help; the body was diligently rubbed and warmed; but no art could bring back the ethereal spirit to its deserted mansion. The great heat of the weather soon filled the place with the offensive symptoms that follow dissolution, and after paying the solemn obsequies to her memory, the last requiem was chanted, and her remains committed to the family-vault.
Who can conceive my condition, that has not felt it? What language can describe the situation of a wretch, who at the moment he tastes supreme happiness, is hurled down into the deepest abyss of sorrow, suffering, and despair? Isolated, widowed, for ever separated from all I hold dear, in the fever of my delirious brain, I made many an attempt to rid myself of that being which was now insupportable; but the hand which spins and cuts off the thread of human life, arrested mine, by the vigilance of my keepers. It was in vain for me to seek destruction in every breath; fate had decreed that I should live.