Penny Dreadfuls, 1850 · page 368 of 400
The Bronze Statue, or, The Virgin's Kiss — page 368: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Penny Dreadfuls, 1850. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
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I conjure you not to keep me in suspense!’ ‘Nor will I,’ said Bernard. +‘ Know, then, that the Kmperor Sigismund of Germany is no more ‘lhe emperor dead !’ cried De Col- mar, the whole couch quivering with the sudden start which he gave and which seemed to run through his form like an acute spasrn. ‘Yes, five weeks have elapsed since the venerable Sigismund breathed his last at Aix-la-Chapelle,’ continued Ber- nard, ‘and the result of the new elec- tion reached my ears yesterday.’ ‘And that result, good Bernard 7— what was it?’ demanded the knight, a strange and feverish expression of min- gled hope, suspense, and fear, glitter- ing in his eyes. ‘The result was,’ responded Ber- nard, ‘that the unanimous choice fell upon a certain great prince who had not offered himself as a candidate, nor was even present to record his own vote on the occasion.’ ‘And that prince?’ said the invalid warrior, in a voice that was breathlessly gasping with suspense. | ‘The new Emperor of Germany,’ rejoined Bernard, ‘is the mighty and chivalrous, the brave and generous Al- bert Duke of Austria.’ De Colmar endeavored to raise him- self up in his couch, but he could not. The color rushed to his cheeks like blood poured out upon snow; then the living crimson died as suddenly away, leaving that countenance more pallid than before. He strove to speak; but his tongue refused to give utterance to the words that rose to it. Gasping, suffocating, fainting, the warrior seem- ed as if the excitement produced by Bernard’s last intelligence would over- power him altogether. _But Angela was ready, that dear mi- nistering angel!—to bathe his brow, to ‘pour cordials down his throat, to apply strong essences to his nostrils. And in a short time De Colmar regained his consciousness and slowly turning his (5 THE BRONGE STATUE. head, he fixed upon the forest-maiden one of those looks, and bestowed upon her one of those smiles in which there is more gratitude, more friendship, and perhaps even more love, than in the softest words ! Bernard now administered a gentle opiate, slumber soon stole over the in- valid warrior, and he slept for many hours. CHAPTER XC, THE FAREWELL. It was night, and the lamp burnt upon the rude table in the turret cham- ber, when Sir Ernest de Colmar opened his eyes again. Angela—the charming, lovely, pure- miaded Angela—was seated by. his couch; and the moment the invalid warrior awoke, she bade him partake of a strengthening broth which she had prepared for him. He complied with her request, and he then said, ‘ Dearest sister—for such you must permit me henceforth to call you—tell me whether I have been dreaming, or whether it be really true that the Emperor Sigismund is no more, and that the Sovereign- Duke of Austria has been elected to the imperial throne 2’ ‘Such, your excellency, was the ven- erable Bernard’s report,’ answered the forest maiden. ‘ But you must not per- mit these and other incidents to occupy your attention to such a degree as to produce an excitement that may be ac- companied with danger.’ ‘Would that I were able to follow your counsel, my kind and _ gentle nurse !’ said De Colmar; then, after a long pause, he observed, ‘ It would prove a great relief to my mind if I were able to despatch one of my grooms forthwith to Vienna. ‘ What is the hour, sweet Angela ?’ ‘It must be verging towards midnight,’ she responded. ‘But I will hasten to arouse Messer Bernard, and he will summon hither one of your excellency’s dependants.’ ‘No, let the matter rest until morn- ing,’ said De Colmar. ‘I would rather endure all the pangs of impatience than permit you to go wandering about these ruins at such an hour:’ ‘Is that the only reason wherefore your excellency would postpone until the morrow a matter which your inter- — comicbooks.com