Agnes, or, Beauty and Pleasure — page 381: what you’re looking at

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

—— AGNES; OF, BEAUTY AND PLEASURE. oOn7> volo gonvuleed with sobs; “ your memory will be prized as that of one who was in every respect pure- minded and noble-hearted! Yes—the lips of all epesk well of you! That amiable Countess who told me everything that had happened—the sister of the wretch who betrayed you, and who even in the very tribunal itself buoyed you up with a false hope 4 “ No, no, dear mother!” interposed Charles, © you must not speak thus bitterly! I feel con- fidest that the Princess of Spartivento experiences the utmost sorrow and remorse for all that she has done, and tbat she will leave no stone unturn d to undo the consequences of her wickedness. She did not willingly deceive me with a false hope ; but perhaps she may have buoyed herself up with one that cannot possibly be realized.” * Ob, wy dear boy, if I thought that there was the slightest chance in that quarter, I would hasten to the Princess—I would throw myself at her feet—I would pardon her for what she has dore in the bope that by her aid it might all be undone! Yes, 1 will go is “No, dearest mother—remain with me, I be- seech you!”’ said Charles. “I am inspired witb courage by your presence. I should sink into despundency i! I were left alone! Besides, 1 dare not allow myself to yield to the influence of hope, for fear it should suffer disappointment. Death would then be armed with triple terrors and in the revulsion of feeling I might die a coward! Remain with me therefore, dearest mother.” “T will remain with you, Charles,” she mur- mured, pressing him again and again to her bosom, “ Rest assured,” he resumed, “that if there be anythig to be done, the Princess will persevere through remoree, and the Countess will lend her aid tbrougb kindness. No entreaty on your part would urge tbem on more quickly than they are now likely to be proceeding !” Hours passed away ; and the unhappy mother remained with her son. The generous cunsidera- tion of Laura and Mirtilla Germini furnished ele- gant repasts; but they went away untouched from the prison chamber. The evening came—the dusk closed in—canales were placed on tie table; and when Mrs. De Vere reflected bow short the time was Dow growipg—that no message of hope or encourag+ment came from the outside—that the sentence was to be executed at daybreak—and that ip a few brief hours she might bebold her darling boy a stark cold corpse—she felt as if it were im- possible she could any longer bear up against an idea so appalling, so astuunding, so stu;en‘ous ! She sbrapk frum the immensity of such ineffable woe! And as the time went on, and the night deepened, Charles began to get frightened on bis mother’s account, She sat gazing upon him with & strange surt of vacancy, She played with his curling hair: she smiled listlessly; and she began to tell bim “ how bie bair bad curied in bis intancy, and how she bad always prophesied it would con tinue to do so as he grew up, su that sbe did vot now find herself mistaken.” Then she started suddenly—pressed ber band to ber brow- flung a quick frightened look sround—and with a sbriek caught him to ber busum. The sense of his true position had suddenly broken in upon her again; and then followed a scene of the wildest grief for the description of which we can find no possible language. And thus did the unfortunate condition of Mrs De Vere’s mind continue to exhibit itself as the night deepened,—those phases of vacancy and morbid listlessness becoming longer and longer as they alternated with the sudden outbursts of woo which followed upon a returning sense of the actual reality. Charles trembled lest bis unfortu- nate mother’s reason should abandon her; for it actually seemed as if ber brain was already giving way. And yet there were moments when he could not heip thinking that it might be a happy event if his parent should lose in mental numbness the keen sense of that position which was presently to bee come one of utter bereavement, It was past midnight : Charles had not thought of retiring to rest—indeed he did not purpose to do so—and his mother seemed to bave lost all idea of the lapse of time. Indeed, for the last hour sho had continued seated by his side, holding his hand in her own—sometimes playing with his hair— then caressing his cheek—and gazing on him the while as if she merely knew who he was, but was listlessly abstracted from all surrounding circum- stances. But all of a sudden she gave one of those starts which made her seem as if she wero abruptly galvanized: the light of intelligence flamed up in ber evyes—and with a wild shriek sho flung her arms about his neck, crying, ‘ N», so! they shall not take you from me! They shall not! Ob, my beloved boy! What! you to die! My God! no!” “* Mother, mother—I entreat and implore “Charles, Charles!” and now it was scream upon scream that thrilled from her lips; and she gave vent to a grief so passionate aud a des air s ineffable, that it seemed as if her brain must burst and her heart must break. At this crisis, when the youth himeelf felt ag if the bitterness of death were now only just bevin- ning, the key was heard to turn in the lock and the bolts were drawn back, “My God! they come to fetch you!” cried the distracted mother. “ But they shal! not !—no, they shall not! I will die for you!” “Tranquillize yourself, dear mother ! — they come not to tetch me yet! Tuere must be still ap hour or two !” Tue door opened ; and in rushed a female form, while the words, “ Saved! saved!” pealed in ecstatic accents through the prison-apartment. It was the Countess di Milazzo. “ Saved P”’ echoed Mrs. De Vere: and she stood like one bereft of reason. “ Saved! saved:” cried the Countess, panting for breath. “Life and liberty! freedom aud fur- tune! Sve! your dour stands open!—and ing few minutes others will be here besides that gaoler to confirm my words!” Ob! wild, wild indeed was now the ejaculation vf joy—the cry of thrilling rapture woich burst from the lips of Mrs De Vere; and impas- sivned, tervid, glowing was the embrace in which she strained her sun! Then she flew to the Countess — she pressed her to ber bosom — she lavished upon her the most endeuring epithets, And that the tidings wife indeed true was evinced by the entrance of the turnkey, who grasped our hero by the hand, heartily cungratulating him on 9) COMMicloo a mm <SEIGO An