Agnes, or, Beauty and Pleasure — page 352: what you’re looking at

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

844 AGNES; OR, BEAUTY AND PLEASURE. on it like one annihilated. The military secretary now placed a document before General Germini ; and this personage, after having looked over it, said, “I have under my eyes a report of the whole proceedings at Leghorn. It is drawn up by the Colonel who commanded the ducal troops on the occasion. From this report it appears that amongst the conspirators there was one who raising his voice, cried on behalf of an Italian Republic. From other information which is herein given,” added the General, pointing to the report, “I am led to believe that it was your voice, prisoner, which raised that most treasonable, villanous, and obnoxious cry.” Charles De Vere remained silent: he of course would not inculpate himself—but on the other hand he would not give utterance to a falsehood. “Very well,’ continued the General; “I take it for granted that it was your tongue which gave utterance to that shout. Iam not at all aston- ished to find men of different shades of opinion embarked in the same cause, when all those opinions sre alike treasonable and detestable. It is thus that desperadoes of different aims band together for a common object—though each one hopes that the result will be to bring his own particular views uppermost. But enough of comment! [I think, prisoner, it can scarcely be needful for me to call upon you for your defence: for you can have none to offer in the face of the established fact that you were amongst the horde of desperate adventurers who landed at Leghorn.” “ And yet, your Excellency,” said De Vere, “I will exercise my right, if this be the opportunity, to make a few observations. Had you permitted either of these ladies to continue the explanations on which they entered re “But you saw that we could not,” interrupted the General. “Then I must embody them in my own de- fence,” resumed Charles. “ But that is a line of defence,” again inter- rupted the General, “which you cannot be per- mitted to pursue.” “Then is it not a mockery,” exclaimed Charles, with an indignant flush upon his countenance, “ to call upon me for a defence at all P” “If you choose to adopt such terms, my lord,” said the General, “I cannot prevent you: but your own good sense ought to teach you that you are insulting this tribunal.” “Far be it from me,” interposed our hero, “to treat any assemblage of gentlemen with insult : but as I perceive that my doom is already sealed, perhaps you will permit me, as a man standing tace to face with death, to say a few last words on his own behalf. It is not that for a moment I suppose whatsoever I may now say will alter the sentence you are about to pronounce upon me, But I would have it go forth to the world that I did not join those men willingly in their attack upon Leghorn. I could not unite in the cry of the Solidarity of Italy, because it meant the per- petuation of monarchical Government: therefore, when | found myself perforce necessitated to take @ part in that enterprise, I entered a protest against its object, at the same time that I gave vent to the freedom of my own sincere opinion, by declaring for the Republic. I found myself in front of an array of soldiery; and not merely by way of putting myself right with the world in case of whatsoever might happen, but likewise as & last desperate resource to retrieve the fortunes of the party with whom I had perforce become embarked, I raised the cry which I thought would put the hearts of those Tuscan soldiers to the test and take the only step, which could possibly save a cause that otherwise was lost. I failed: and then I was led by a variety of circumstances to a man- sion which I found to be my own, and to the as- sumption of a title which I little expected ever to be in store for me. It was then my purpose to swear allegiance to the Grand Duke’s Government as speedily as possible. Not through fear !—not through cowardice !—but becauee I had become a Tuscan subject, and I held myself bound to recog- nise the powers which exist in this State. That such were my intentions, this worthy gentleman” —and Charles pointed to Signor Palmas—‘‘can attest,” **T do,” said the notary, in a solemn tone. Hitherto the young Count of Camerino had gone on speaking in a strain which so riveted the attention of his audience, that not even General Germini himself had dared to interrupt it. But now the charm was broken; and that stern war- rior said in & harsh tone, “ Your lordship has been already allowed a far greater license than I could ever have thought ofpermitting. You have stolen upon us as it were; and here must be an end of it.” “ Nevertheless,” the Colonel who formed a member of the tribunal, ventured to suggest, “as it is a dying man who is speaking, let him in the name of heaven say anything more, if aught more remain to be said!” The General looked fierce and threatening: but perceiving by the countenances of the other members of the tribunal that they shared in the sympathy just expressed by the Colonel, he thought it more prudent to let the prisoner continue. “ And now,” said Charles, “I have but little to add to the words which I have already spoken. Young as I am, I have already looked death too often in the face to be daunted by his presence now. At the same time, hovering asI am upon the brink of one world and upon the verge of another—the one known, and the other unknown —I feel a religious awe, but not a coward dread. I have nothing wherewith to reproach myself: but being so young to die—Oh, so young!—I have an immensity of cause for regret. The time must come when it will be proved that I have been a victim, and not a criminal. I presume, sir, that between the passing of the sentence and the execu- tion of it, I shall be allowed a little leisure to write a few letters containing my final adieus ¥ here his voice faltered for a moment, and then in- stantaneously became firm again, as he repeated, “my final adieus to those whom [ love?” ‘‘The sentence which I am about to pronounce,” answered General Germini, “ will not be executed until daybreak.” The young Count bowed. It was a relief for one in his desperate position, dauntless though he were, to find that he had yet so many hours to live. “And now, your Excellency,” he added, “ I have finished.” The Countess of Milazzo was weeping bite 6)(0K) — 5} cen ey a an i ee Ree