Agnes, or, Beauty and Pleasure — page 307: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

—— wee ne AGNES; OR, BEAUTY AND PLEASURE. * Yes !’’ exclaimed the priest! “ it shall be done ‘speedily !”—and he rushed away, leaving Charles standing in the middle of the street, trans- fixed to the spot, wondering whether Falconara had really any plan in his mind, or whether he were altogether demented. But in a few moments our hero beheld the priest rapidly emerging again from the obscurity into which he had seemed to plunge as he rushed in that frantic manner along the street. He was now walking at a slower pace in comparison ; but still it was a hurried one. As he accosted Charles the latter saw that his face was more than usually pale: indeed it was of a deadly whiteness; and his large black eyes were shining with an unnatural brilliancy, * I’m going to the Prefecture of Police,” he said, in a deep hollow tone. ‘‘Those who penetrate thither, are not always certain of coming forth again at will, Go to the Marquis of Ortona—he is afriend of the Count’s—and he will befriend me if you assure him that the enterprise in which I am embarking has for its object the salvation of the Count’s life!” * And what do you wish the Marquis to do?” inquired Charles anxious!y. * 7 wish you and the Marquis to proceed pre- eently together into the neighbourhood of the Pre- fecture. If at the expiration of one hour I do not rejoin you there, you may conclude that I have experienced treacherous treatment—that I am a captive and destined for eternal immurement in a dungeon, unless you both hasten forward to deliver me. Therefore, I say, if at the expiration of one hour from this moment I do not join the Marquis and yourself in the neighbourhood of the gate of the Prefecture, do you ring at that gate and de. mand that Father Falconara be at once set at liberty! The Chief of the Police will not dare re- fuse; and thus my safety will be assured. And in assuring my safety, you will secure the life and liberty of the Count of Camerino! I trust to you, Signor De Vere, to fulfil my instructions precisely as I have given them.” *T will—Ob, believe me I will!” cried our hero, overjoyed at the hope which had been held out in reference to the unfortunate Count. Father Falconara wrung De Vere’s hand with the convulsive violence which emanated from the strength of his emotions; and he again hurried away—while Charles began to retrace his steps to- wards the Marquis of Ortona’s mansion. Meanwhile the Chief of Police, triumphant in the night’s work which he had accomplished, was sitting down to supper in his luxuriantly furnished apartment. He had no guests at his table on the occasion: he ate and drank like a man bent upon enjoying himself after having satisfactorily disposed of a considerable amount of business. He quaffed the sparkling champagne; and ever and anon he muttered to himself, “I care not for the loss of my beautiful mistress, since [ am so signully avenged upon him who eloped with ber! But I must be cau- tious in the presence of this fascinating beverage,” he preseutly added, as he held his glass up to the light so as to observe the colour and clearness of the wine; “or it will do me a mischief as last year it did,” We must here explain that some eighteen months back the Chief of the Police had indulged 299 so deeply in the juices of the grape, that a serious illness was the consequence; and at one time it was thought that he could not possibly survive it. Then, deeming himself to be on his death-bed, he was haunted by all the terrors arising from an ill-spent life—a life that had been marked by more than one deed of turpitude only too well calculated thus to trouble his conscience, But he had re- covered ; and instead of taking warning from the remorseful feelings which had then agitated him and rendered the prospect of death terrible, he had gradually glided again into his iniquitous career. To return to the immediate thread of our story. The Chief of Police, having quaffed as much champagne as he fancied that he dare drink, rose from the table and was about to seek his couch, when the ringing of the bell at the gate of the Prefecture made him linger with the idea that some new call upon his attention might possibly be about to transpire. A domestic presently en- tered, to announce that a priest who gave the name of Father Falconara, desired an interview with his Excellency, “Wather Faleonara!” echoed the Minister, for a moment looking surprised: but instantaneously recovering himself, he added, * Let the reverend gentleman be introduced.” The ecclesiastic was accordingly conducted into the Minister’s presence; and he gave the usual benediction, which the great official received with an air of assumed humility. “Be seated, holy sir,” said the Chief of the Police; “‘and tell me for what purpose I am favoured with a visit from your reverence at tunis hour.” ‘Let me crave your attention for a short time,” said Father Falconara. ‘I have just been attend- ing the death-bed of a penitent sinner of whom your lordship has some knowledge { mean the man Bardi.” “Indeed!” said the Chief of the Police; and his countenance became for a moment pale, “ You surely do not mean that the unfortunate man who was just now so seriously wounded by a prisoner while effecting his escape “Yes, my lord—I allude to that man,” re- sponded Father Falconara. “And you were called in to give him absolu- tion?” exclaimed the Minister, becoming still more pale than before. ‘The circumstance is remarkable! The coincidence extraordinary !” “ Perhaps, my lord, it was providential!” said the ecclesiastic impressively: and the Chief of the Police evidently understood his meanixg, for he trembled for a moment. Tien there was silence for nearly a minute in that room. And the poor fellow is dead?” observed the Minister, regaining his self possession. “I knew that the injury he had sustained was very serious: but still, when he came to his senses and be- sought that he might be taken home to hia wile and children—and when the surgeon gaye his assent to the removal—lI certainly fancied there was achauce of his recovery vd “No, my lord,’ interrupted the ecclesiastic : that man is no more! Searcely half-an-hour has elapsed since Bardi breathed his last, having con- fessed all his sins and received absolutiun!” * And thus, Father Falconara,” said the Minis- re rr er we ee Comicloools ns Onn