Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 295: what you’re looking at

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

2 ee ee “74% ws re APACE NENT a 282 JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. across bis chest, said with a sort of mournful cold- | that you, Mr, Wilmot, with your generous heart’ ness, “ But I had forgotten! Signor Castelli told ; should believe us guilty !” me that you believed me guilty !” | I was staggered by this species of appeal, which “ IT do not ask you to make me your confessor,” | was conveyed with a look and tone of perfect in- I replied far more sadly than he himself had | nocence; and turning qaickly to Durazzo, I said spoken, and with none of the same haughty cold- | to him, “ Would to heaven that I could believe ness in my own voice or manner: “but at least, | youinnocent! But would it not be believing in Durazzo, I expect that you will not adopt an air | that which unfortunately is impossible ?” of useless and ill-becoming bravado.” * Wilmot,” answered Constantine, “I feel—I It would be impossible to deseribe the brilliancy | know that naught but a miracle can prove my in- of the lightning which flashed from his eyes, nor | nocence, and that of this youth whom [ love as if the look of scornful rage that for an instant swept | he were my brother. I know likewise that in all over his countenance: but the next moment his | ages and in all countries of the world men have mien so completely altered that I was at a loss to | suceumbed beneath the overwhelming weight of conceive his features had expressed that lofty | cireumstantial evidence: in some instances their haughty anger at all. His air became so sad—jinnocenee may neyer have transpired—but in | Oh! so sad; and he bent his eyes with sueh de-/| others it has been made apparent and s0 it precating mournfulness upon me that I felt my | may in mine!” heart was weeping inwardly, While he was thus speaking, I was smitten with “And my Leonora?” he said. “ You have seen | the recollection of how an innocent person was her—and Castelli, who visited me last evening, | first of all accused of the murder of the Duchesse prepared me to hear tidings of her illness. But | de Paulia, and how the evidence had taken a turn he assured me that it was not severe—and you are | to bring the erime fearfully home to the Duke come to confirm me in that belief 2” himself. But, alas! a second thought showed me “The medical attendant upon the judge’s niece | that the eireumstances were here very different ; has no fears as to the result,” was my cautiously | and the hope that Durazzo might be speaking the worded response. truth died quickly out of me. | “Heaven be thanked!” exclaimed Constantine *T see that nothing can shake the conviction fervidly. ‘“ But tell me—and, oh! tell me truly -| which is in your mind,” proceeded Constantine does she—does she believe that Tam guilty ?” mournfully ; * aud everything considered, I ought “The judge assured me,” I answered, “that; not to blame you. Yet hear me, Wilmot! if Tl although it were impossible for his niec? to re- | cannot conyert you, you may at least listen to the sist the evidence that you had been a eorsgir- | few words I have to say upon the subject. I have chieftain,—yet that never, never would she be-| been a corsair-chief; and you yourself know lieve you guilty of this crime which is imputed to | whether [I have hesitated to fight in a bold and you!” open cause. But on the other hand [I am as in- A wild ery of joy thrilled from Durazzo’s lips:| capable as yourself ot becoming a cold-blooded his strikingly handsome countenance became ani- | assassin, What was that poor youth’s life to me? mated with a kindred expression; and clasping his | We saw him not in the ruins at all; and even if hands together, he said with a world of feeling in | we had But it is unnecessary,’ he suddenly his looks and voice, “Oh! may heayen shed its | interrupted himself, “to add another syllable! lt choicest blessings upon the head of my worshipped | is unnecessary, because it is useless! You be- Leonora!” lier me guilty; and I repeat, I dare not blame I was profoundly affected: I hastily passed my | you,” kerchief across my eyes; and now I perceived that ws Rest assured, Durazzo,” I answered, “that no the young nage had glided towards us. He listened | one in the whole world—no, not even your Leonora with a deep and evidently heartfelt interest—but | herself—would with greater joy hail the proof of without amazement at what was said; and [| your mnocence !” therefore comprehended that he was now entirely} At this moment the door of the court-yard in Durazzo’s confidence in respect to all that con- | opened; and the turnkey made his appearance, cerned his love for the judge’s niece. | to intimate that my stay had been long enough. “ And Signor Portici himself?” said Constantine | “Ido not ask you to visit me again,” said Du- inquiringly. “But no—I need not ask you! He | razzo: “indeed I would rather that you should considers me guilty? Ah! but never, never will| not, since you believe me guilty. Where there he infect the trustful Leonora with the same belief! | has been such friendship, there would now bea I may go out of this world branded with a erime | proportionate constraint. Yet if you receive any which I never perpetvated: but still there sha‘l be | tidings y one heart that will throb with the holy conviction; “I know to whom you allude,” I interrupted of mine innocence, Yes!—the rank grass may | him; “and rest assured I should not fail to come grow over my grave in some unhallowed spot: but | and impart any such intelligence. It is my pur- yet may a single flower peep forth from the midst | pose to remain awhile at Ajaccio; and if I can be and shed its perfume around, like sacred frankin- | of service to you : cense over the tomb of the mouldering dead!” The turnkey grew impatient; and I was com- For a few moments Durazzo fell into a deep | pelled to hurry away,—neither of the Greeks reverie; and as I glanced towards the page, I per- | offering to take my hand, but both following me ceived him studying my countenance with a timid | with mournful looks; for I perceived them thus anxiety. For an instant his looks fell: then he | gazing after me as | glanced back on gaining the glided towards me; and laying his hand lightly | massive door. When outside the prison, I walked upon my arm, he said in the soft sadness of his | slowly away, reflecting sadly upon the interview. musical voice, “Oh! it is worse than anything | How was it, I asked myself, that they beth so GOMIGDOOKS:GO ee ,