Beautiful Rienzi; or, The secret vendetta — page 256: what you’re looking at

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

BEAUTIFUL RIENZL 251 signal for me to go, I dared to disobey, but her vengeful looks almost petrified me. At last, by intense watchfulness, I saw her shake some white powders into two of the glasses of wine, and she dared to designate with a threatening ex- pression which glass I was to take. ~ Tt was too much; even the dreadful spell which bound me silent broke when you lifted the poisoned glass to your lips. I dashed it to atoms, and saved you. ‘“When I recovered from my long swoon I found Dr. Pemberton with me; he soothed and quieted me, and said he would soon see me all right and happy, and joined to Victor again. I can tell you little more. ‘‘Weak and outraged at heart, and hopeless, I took the cars to Greely’s Mills, and hired a horse and carriage to take me as far as a gipsy camp, when I paid the boy and got the gipsy chief to take me on his best horse to this miserable den. | ‘Here I found my poor mother in the first paroxysms of the disease, with no attendant but her faithful seryant More- combe, whose proper name is Rinaldo Moresco, a servitor of the Lancinetto family all his life, and devotedly attached to its interests. | ‘Now, my darling, I have told you all plainly and care- fully what power moves me from all I love to an.exile terri- ble as death; much I dared to see you once more and tell rou what would set your gnawing hopes at rest. ‘The time foe come that we must part. | ‘You weep, my sister—ah, hush, my sister! Comfort yourself. Never weep that your power was overruled by Heaven. | «< And now, receive my last charges. ‘<T give this withered rose into your hands for Victor J ose- lyn; tell him it isthe marriage rose that nestled inthe bosom of a wife who was never a wife, and whose right to his name has wrecked her happiness. ‘©T will be humble, and sue even for a brother’s tender- ness, since nature has denied me more; in heaven our love will be pure enough even for this restless and weak heart. ‘¢Give the last of my love to your sweet mother; she was too pure to retain the offspring of Gemma Lancinetto. Ask her to meet poor Isolina up yonder, where the blessed never weep, and where the broken heart may ache no more. CORNUCG OOO S (©)