"Against the unmeasured praise of the Baron," continued the old man, "I had indeed nothing to offer, but my own physiognomical observations, to which he did not allow the slightest importance; but, on the contrary, perceived in my dislike of Euphemia only a highly absurd species of idiosyncrasy. He even confessed to me, that the young lady would soon become one of his family, as he would do all in his power to bring about a marriage betwixt her and Hermogen.
"The latter happened to come into the room just as we spoke with considerable warmth on this subject, and when I was endeavouring to defend my notions about Euphemia. The Baron, accustomed always to act openly, and on the spur of the moment, made his son instantly acquainted with all his plans and wishes.
"Hermogen very quietly listened to his father's enthusiastic praises of the young lady; and when the eulogy was ended, answered that he did not feel himself in the least attracted towards Euphemia; that he could never love her; and therefore earnestly begged that any schemes for a marriage between her and himself might be given over.
"The Baron was not a little confounded, when all his favourite projects were thus at once set aside, but at the same time, said the less to Hermogen, as he recollected that Euphemia herself had never been consulted on the subject. With a cheerfulness and good humour which are indeed quite his own, he soon began to jest over the complete failure of his endeavours, and said that Hermogen evidently shared in my idiosyncrasy; though, for his part, how a beautiful young woman could inspire such dislike, he was quite unable to perceive.
"His own intercourse with Euphemia of course remained the same as before. He had been so accustomed to her society, that he was unable to spend any day without seeing her.
"Consequently, it soon after happened, that one day, in a careless and cheerful humour, he remarked to her, that there was butoneindividual within her enchanted circle, who had not become enamoured, and that was Hermogen. The latter, he added, had flatly refused to listen to a plan of marriage, which his father had wished to set on foot for him.
"Euphemia, in the same style of badinage, replied, that it might have been as well to consult her also on the subject, and that although she would gladly be more nearly allied to the Baron, yet this must by no means take place through Hermogen, who was for her far too serious, and too particular in his humour.
"From the time that this discourse took place with the Baron, (who immediately communicated it to me,) Euphemia continued, even in an unusual degree, her attentions towards him and Aurelia. At last, by many slight but intelligible hints, she gradually brought the Baron to the idea that a union with herself would exactly realize thebeau idealwhich she had formed of happiness in marriage. Every objection which could be urged on the score of years, or otherwise, she was able in the most convincing manner to refute, and with-all, advanced in her operations so gradually, delicately, and imperceptibly, that the Baron believed all the ideas which she directly put into his head to be the growth of his own feelings and his own ingenuity.
"Still sound and unbroken in health, and by nature lively and energetic, he now felt himself inspired, even like a young man, by a glowing and fervent passion. I could no longer damp nor restrain this wild flight, for it was already too late. In short, not long afterwards, to the astonishment of all theresidenz, Euphemia became the wife of the Baron!!
"It seemed to me now, as if this formidable being, whom even I had before regarded with such distrust, having thus stepped at last into our very domestic circle, I must now be doubly and trebly on the watch for my friend and for myself. Hermogen attended the marriage of his father with the coldest indifference, but Aurelia, the dear child, who was haunted with a thousand indefinable apprehensions, burst into tears.
"Soon after the marriage, Euphemia longed to visit the Baron's castle here among the mountains. Her wish was gratified accordingly, and I must confess, that her whole behaviour was, for a long time, so consistent and correct, that she extorted from me involuntary admiration. Thus, two years flowed on in perfect quietness and domestic enjoyment. Both winters we spent in theresidenz, but even there too, the Baroness shewed towards her husband so much unfeigned respect, and such attention even to his slightest wishes, that even the voice of envy and detraction were at last put to silence, and not one of the young libertines who thought that they would here have sufficient scope for their gallantry, allowed themselves even the least freedom in her presence. During the last winter, I was probably the only one left, who, still influenced by the oldidiosyncrasy, ventured to cherish doubts and mistrust against her.
"Before the Baron's marriage, a certain Count Victorin, major in the Prince'sGarde d'Honneur, and only now and then professionally established at theresidenz, was one of Euphemia's regular suitors, and the only one of whom it could ever have been said, that he at times appeared to be honoured by her particular regard. It had once been whispered indeed, that a much nearer and more intimate acquaintance existed between them, than was yet indicated by their outward behaviour. But the rumour immediately died away, as obscurely as it had arisen.
"Be that as it may, the Count Victorin was again this last winter in theresidenz, and of course, made his appearance in the circles of the Baroness. He seemed, however, not in the least to concern himself about her, but rather even to avoid her conversation. Notwithstanding all this, I imagined that frequently their looks met, when they believed themselves unobserved; and that in these looks—but I shall not describe more particularly—suffice it to say, that their expression was such, as in my opinion could not be misunderstood, and such as to cause to me the utmost disquietude.
"More especially, it happened one night at the house of the Governor, where a large party was assembled, that I stood crowded and squeezed up into a window, where I was more than half concealed by the furniture drapery, and only two or three steps before me was the Count Victorin.
"Then Euphemia, more than ever brilliant and tasteful in her dress, and beaming in luxuriant beauty, swept up to him as if to pass by. No one, probably, remarked them but myself. He seized her arm, with a kind of passionate vehemence, but so that it was observed by me alone. Their eyes met; her expressive looks were turned directly and full upon him. She whispered some words, of which I could not seize the import. Euphemia must have seen me. She turned round quickly; but I distinctly heard the words, 'We are observed!'
"I stood as if petrified by the shock of this discovery. Alas! reverend sir, think of my conflicting feelings at that moment—think of my gratitude and respect—of that faithful attachment with which I was devoted to the Baron—and recollect, too, the apprehensions by which I had been so long persecuted, and which were thus so cruelly and unequivocally realized!
"These few words, however unimportant in themselves, had completely revealed to me that there was a secret understanding between the Baroness and the Count! For the present I was obliged to be silent; but I was resolved to watch Euphemia with Argus eyes, and then, as soon as I had obtainedproofsof her crime, to break asunder at once the disgraceful bands in which she had fettered my unhappy friend.
"Yet who is able to counteract successfully the contrivances of devilish cunning and hypocrisy?Myendeavours, at least, were all utterly in vain, and it would only have been absurd to impart to the Baron what I had seen and heard. My opponents would directly have found ways and means to represent me as a half-witted, tiresome visionary.
"The snow still lay upon the mountains, when we came, last spring, over to the castle; but I made my usual excursions over all the grounds. One morning I met, in a neighbouring village,a bauer, who had something odd in his walk and gestures. Happening to turn round his head, he betrayed to me, on the first glance, the features of the Count Victorin! However, in the same moment he had vanished among the houses, and was no more to be seen.
"Any mistake on my part was here impossible. And what could have led him to this disguise, but the continuance of his old intrigue with the Baroness? Even now, I know for certain that he is again in this neighbourhood, for I have seen hischasseurriding past; and yet it is inexplicable to me how it happened that he did not rather attend the Baroness in town.
"It is now three months since we received intelligence that her uncle the Governor was attacked by severe and dangerous illness. Without delay, therefore, she obtained the Baron's consent to visit her relation, and set off, taking only Aurelia with her, indisposition preventing the Baron from accompanying her at that time; and he has since chosen to remain here.
"Now, however, misfortune had begun to make determined inroads into our house; for the Baroness had not been long absent before she wrote home, that Hermogen was suddenly seized by a melancholy, on which no society or advice of physicians seemed to have any beneficial influence; and that this even broke out oftentimes into fits of delirious rage. Day after day he wandered about all alone, cursing and denouncing himself and his cruel destiny; while all endeavours of his friends to recover him from this frightful state had been hitherto ineffectual.
"You may suppose, reverend sir, how painful and distressing was the impression that all this made upon the Baron. The sight of his son under such a fearful malady, would, in his present state, have agitated him too much. I therefore went to town alone.
"By the strong measures that had been adopted, Hermogen was already cured of these violent out-breakings of madness described by the Baroness; but a settled melancholy had fallen upon him, against which the physicians seemed to think that all aid would be unavailing.
"On seeing me, he was deeply moved. He told me that an unhappy destiny, with which it was in vain to struggle, drove him to renounce for ever the station which he had till then held; and that only as a monk could he hope for tranquillity in this world, or rescue his soul from eternal destruction. Accordingly, I found him already in the dress, in which you, reverend sir, may have observed him this morning; but notwithstanding his resistance, I succeeded in bringing him hither.
"He is now tranquil, but never for a moment relinquishes theoneinsane idea which has taken possession of him; and all attempts to extort a disclosure of the event which has brought him into his misery remain fruitless, though the revealing of this secret would probably afford the first means of contributing to its alleviation.
"Some time ago the Baroness wrote, that, by advice of her confessor, she would send hither a monk of his acquaintance, whose intercourse and consoling admonitions would probably have more influence than anything else on Hermogen, as his madness had evidently taken a devotional turn. I am greatly rejoiced, sir, that the choice has fallen on you, whom a chance the most fortunate for us had led to theresidenz. By attending to the directions that I now give you, I trust that you may restore to a broken-hearted and deeply-afflicted family, that repose which they have so long lost.
"Your endeavours ought, in my opinion, to be directed totwoespecial objects. In the first place, inquire out this horrible secret, by which Hermogen is oppressed. His bosom will be lighter if it is once disclosed, whether in ordinary conversation, or in the confessional; and the church, instead of burying him within its walls, will again restore him to the world.
"In the second place, you should make yourself better acquainted with the Baroness. You know all that I have to communicate—You are probably already of my opinion, though I have not sufficientproofsfor entering into an open accusation; but I know, that when you see, and become intimate with Euphemia, you will entertain the same conviction that I do. She is, however, by temperament, inclined to religion, at least her imagination is easily roused. Perhaps, therefore, by your extraordinary gifts of eloquence, you may penetrate deeply into her heart. You may agitate and terrify her into repentance of her crimes, and of that treachery against her best friends, by which, of necessity, she must work for herself everlasting torments.
"Yet one remark more, reverend sir, I must hazard. Many times it has appeared to me as if the Baron, too, had on his mind some secret grief, of which he conceals from me the cause. Besides his openly declared anxiety on account of Hermogen, he contends visibly with painful thoughts, which constantly harass him. It has often suggested itself to me, that he may perhaps, by some evil chance, have discovered the Baroness's criminality, and this by traces more certain and unambiguous than those which have occurred to me. Therefore, reverend sir, I must finally recommend also the Baron to your spiritual care and attention."
With these words Reinhold closed his long narrative, which had, meanwhile, in a hundred different ways, tormented me. The most extraordinary and irreconcilable contradictions laboured, crossing and re-crossing each other, through my brain.
My very identity, my individuality, was cruelly become the game—the mere plaything, of chance, while as it were, losing myself, and melting away into forms and features not my own, I swam, without hold or stay, upon that wild sea of events, which broke in upon me like raging waves.
I had, indeed, virtually lost myself, for I could no longer recover any power of voluntary action. It was through the interference of my arm that Victorin had been hurled into the abyss; but it was chance, and no impulse of volition, by which I was guided on that occasion. "Now," said I to myself, "I come into his place; but then Reinhold knows Father Medardus, the preacher in the Capuchin Convent, and thus in his estimation I appear only that which I truly am. On the other hand, the adventure with the Baroness, which the Count had in contemplation, falls upon my shoulders, so that in this respect I become again Victorin! To myself an inexplicable riddle, thought becomes a mere chaos. Like the fabulous knight, who fought with his DOUBLE in the dark forest, I am at variance, and combating with myself."
Notwithstanding these internal commotions, I succeeded in counterfeiting tolerably well such composure as is becoming to a priest; and in this mood I came for the first time into the presence of the Baron.
I found him a man advanced in years; but in his now shrunk features, lay yet the evidences of the strength and vivacity which he had once possessed. Not age, indeed, but grief, had ploughed wrinkles in his forehead, and blanched his hair. Notwithstanding this, there prevailed in all that he said, and in his whole behaviour, a cheerfulness and good humour, by which every one must be attracted, and prepossessed in his favour.
When the old steward presented me to him as the monk, whose intended arrival had been noticed by the Baroness, his looks, at first rather doubtful and suspicious, became always more friendly, as, in the meanwhile, Reinhold related how he had heard me preach in the Capuchin Convent of Königswald, and had there convinced himself of my extraordinary gifts of piety and eloquence.
"I know not, my dear Reinhold," said the Baron, "how, or for what reason, the features of this reverend gentleman interest me so much at our first meeting. They certainly awake some remembrance, which yet struggles in vain to come clearly and fully into light."
It seemed to me, as if he would, in that very moment, break out with the name "Count Victorin!"—In truth, however miraculous it may appear, I had now become actually persuaded that I was the Count; and thereby (aided perhaps by the wine at breakfast, not to speak of the draught from the basket bottle,) I felt the circulation of the blood more powerfully in every vein, and colouring my cheeks with a deeper crimson.
I depended, however, upon Reinhold, who indeed knew me as Brother Medardus, though this now appeared to myself a mere fiction! Nothing could untie or unravel those intricate knots, by which the strange web of my destiny was thus bound together.
According to the Baron's wishes, I was immediately to make acquaintance with Hermogen; but he was nowhere to be found. He had been seen wandering towards the mountains; but the family were on that score quite unconcerned, as he had frequently for days together absented himself in that manner. Accordingly, through the whole afternoon, I remained in the society of the Baron and Reinhold, and by degrees recollected myself so completely, that towards evening I became quite calm, and courageous enough to grapple with the wonderful events and difficulties which now seemed to lie in wait for me.
In the solitude of the night, I opened the Count's portfolio, and convinced myself more particularly that it was Count Victorin who had been hurled into the abyss; yet the letters addressed to him were but of indifferent import, and not one of them gave me any very clear insight as to his real circumstances and condition in life.
Without, therefore, harassing my brain any farther about the matter, I resolved to accommodate myself as skilfully as I could to whatever coursechancemight point out for me; especially, it was requisite that I should wait the issue of my first interview with the mysterious Euphemia.
On the very next day, the Baroness, with Aurelia, unexpectedly made her appearance. I saw them alight from their carriage, and, received by the Baron, entering the gates of the castle. Unnerved and disquieted, I stepped restlessly up and down in my chamber, under a tempest of extraordinary anticipations. This, however, did not continue long, ere I was summoned down stairs.
The Baroness came forward to meet me. She was an eminently beautiful woman, still in the full bloom of her charms. There was in her countenance andtout ensemblea voluptuous tranquillity, diversified only by the restless gleam of her eyes, which were to an unparalleled degree fiery and expressive.
As soon as she beheld me she seemed involuntarily to start, and betrayed extraordinary emotion. Her voice faltered, she could scarcely command words.
This visible embarrassment on her part gave me courage. I looked her boldly in the face, and, in the conventual manner, gave her my blessing. Hereupon she became all at once deadly pale, and was obliged to seat herself on a sofa. Reinhold meanwhile looked on me as if quite satisfied, and even with smiles of good humour.
At that moment the door opened, and the Baron entered with Aurelia.
As soon as I had set eyes on this girl, it seemed as if a gleam of light from heaven flashed around me, and penetrated to my very heart, kindling up mysterious and long-lost emotions—the most ardent longings—the raptures of the most fervent love. All indeed that I had formerly felt seemed only like obscure and shadowy indications of that which now stepped forth at once into reality and life. Nay, life itself dawned for the first time, glittering, variegated, and splendid before me, and all that I had known before lay cold and dead, as if under the desolate shadows of night.
It was she herself—the same mysterious unknown whom I had beheld in the vision of the confessional. The melancholy, pious, childlike expression of the dark blue eyes—the delicately formed lips—the neck gently bent down, as if in devout prayer—the tall, slender, yet voluptuous form; all these—they belonged not to Aurelia—it was herself, the blessed St Rosalia! Even the minutest particulars of dress—for example, the sky-blue shawl, which the young Baroness had now thrown over her shoulders, was precisely the same worn by the saint in the picture, and by the unknown of my vision.
What was now the luxuriant beauty of Euphemia compared with the divine charms of this celestial visitant? Onlyher, heralone could I behold, while all around was faded into coldness and obscurity.
It was impossible that my inward emotion could escape the notice of the by-standers.
"What is the matter with you, reverend sir?" said the Baron; "you seem agitated in an extraordinary degree."—By these words I was directly brought to myself, and I felt rising up within me a supernatural power,—a courage till then unknown,—to encounter all obstacles, ifshe—ifAureliawere to be the prize to reward me for the combat.
"Rejoice,Herr Baron!" cried I, as if seized by a sudden fit of inspiration—"rejoice, for a female saint is sent down from heaven among us. The heavens, too, will soon be opened in cloudless serenity, and the immaculate St Rosalia will diffuse blessings and consolation on the devout souls who humbly and faithfully pay to her their homage and adoration. Even now I hear the anthem,—the choral notes of glorified spirits, who long for the society of the saint, and who, calling on her in song, hover down from their resplendent thrones. I see her features, beaming in the divinehaloof beatification, lifted up towards the seraphic choir, that are already visible to her eyes.Sancta Rosalia, ora pro nobis!"
Hereupon I fell on my knees, with mine eyes uplifted to heaven, my hands folded in prayer, and all present mechanically followed my example. No one ventured to question me any farther. This sudden ebullition was imputed to some extraordinary inspiration, and the Baron gravely resolved to have mass said at the altar of St Rosalia in theresidenz.
In this manner I had completely rescued myself from my present embarrassment; and I was resolved from henceforward to venture all things, for Aurelia was at stake, who was now far dearer to me than life.
The Baroness meanwhile appeared in a very strange and inexplicable mood. Her looks followed me; but when I met them, quite composedly and unconcerned, she averted her eyes, which then wandered about unsteadily and wildly. As for Aurelia, I could only guess at her agitation; for she had drawn down her veil, and gazed stedfastly on a cross which was hung by a rosary from her neck. At last the family retired into another chamber. I made use of the opportunity, and hastened down into the garden, where, in a state of the wildest excitement, I rushed through the walks, labouring with, and revolving a thousand resolutions, ideas, and plans, for my future life in the castle.
Through this day I did not again meet Aurelia. It was already evening, when Reinhold appeared, and said that the Baroness, who had been deeply affected by my pious and inspired discourse of that morning, wished to speak with me alone in her chamber.
When I had entered the room, and had, by her directions, closed and bolted the door, she advanced a few steps towards me, then taking me by both arms, and looking fixedly in my face, "Is it possible?" said she—"art thou Medardus, the Capuchin monk?—But the voice—the figure—your eyes—your hair,—speak, or I shall perish in this torment of suspense and apprehension!"
"Victorin!" replied I, in a whisper; and again this word was not mine, but suggested to me by some unknown and supernatural power;—then, to my utter astonishment and consternation——
[There is a hiatus in the MS. at this place.]
[There is a hiatus in the MS. at this place.]
It was in my power, doubtless, to have fled from the castle, but in doing so—in saving myself from new crimes—I must have fled alsofrom Aurelia. I had made the resolution (in which I was determined to persevere) to venture all things forhersake, and especially for the chance of renewing that conversation which the sanctity of the confessional wholly prohibited.
It was on her account, therefore, that I had now involved myself in enormous guilt; but though conscious of this as the cause, I did not escape the torments of remorse and the bitterest self-condemnation. A kind of horror seized on me when I thought of meeting Aurelia again, which, however, was very soon to happen, namely, at the supper-table. It seemed as if her pious angelic looks would directly accuse me of mortal sin, and as if, unmasked and detected, I should sink into utter disgrace and annihilation. From similar reasons, also, I could not bear to see the Baroness immediately after that interview, and all this induced me, under the pretext of having my devotions to perform, to shut myself up in my room, and remain there, when intimation was sent to me that supper was ready.
Only a few days, however, were required in order to banish all fear and embarrassment. The outward behaviour of the Baroness was in the highest degree guarded and amiable; and the more that, in my character of Count Victorin, I acquired ascendancy over her, the more she seemed to redouble her attention and affectionate solicitude for the Baron.
She confessed to me, however, that she many times laboured under the most fearful perplexity; that mytonsure, my long beard, and my genuine conventual gait, (which last, however, I did not now keep up so strictly as before,) had caused to her a thousand indefinable apprehensions; nay, upon my sudden inspired invocation of St Rosalia, she had become almost persuaded that some extraordinary fatality had annihilated the plan which, along with Victorin, she had so admirably laid, and had brought a miserable Capuchin monk into his place.
She admired, however, the extent of my precautions in actually taking the tonsure, in allowing my beard to grow, and in having studied my part so exactly, that, even now, she was obliged often to look me sharply in the face, to avoid falling again into painful doubts.
Meanwhile, Victorin'schasseur, disguised as abauer, made his appearance now and then at the end of the park, and I did not neglect to speak with him privately, and admonish him to hold himself in readiness for momentary flight, if any evil chance should render this necessary.
As for the Baron and Reinhold, they seemed, on the whole, perfectly satisfied, yet frequently troubled me with urgent suggestions that I should direct the best energies of my mind to acquire an influence over the deeply pensive and obstinate Hermogen.
On the contrary, however, I had never been able to interchange with him a single word, so sedulously did he avoid every opportunity of being alone with me; and if by chance we met in the society of his father and the steward, he looked upon me with an expression so marked and extraordinary, that I had considerable difficulty in avoiding obvious embarrassment. It seemed almost as if he could read my very soul, and spy out my most secret thoughts; and as often as he was thus forced into my presence, an unconquerable ill-humour, a malicious irony, and indeed rage, with difficulty restrained, were visible on his pale features.
It happened that once when I was taking a walk in the park, I perceived him, quite unexpectedly, coming up to meet me. I held this for the fittest possible moment to clear up the painful circumstances in which I was placed with regard to him; and accordingly, when, as usual, he wished to escape, I ventured to take him by the arm, and my old talent of eloquence enabled me now to speak so impressively, and with so much energy, that at last he could not help being attentive, and shewed, as I thought, some favourable symptoms of emotion.
We had seated ourselves on a stone bench at the end of a walk which led towards the castle. In discourse, my inspiration, as usual, increased. I maintained, that it was in the highest degree sinful for a man, thus devoured by inward grief, to despise the consolation and assistance of the church, which can raise up the fallen, and might enable him to fulfil all purposes and duties of this life, which, by the goodness of the Supreme Power, were yet held invitingly before him.
I insisted, that even the most depraved criminal need not doubt of the grace and favour of Heaven, and that the indulgence of such doubts might alone deprive him of the temporal happiness, and salvation hereafter, which he would otherwise obtain. At last I demanded that he should directly unload his conscience by confessing to me, promising him, at the same time, on the usual conditions of contrition, penance, and amendment, absolution for every sin that he might have committed.
Hereupon he rose up. His frame seemed to heave and dilate with indignation;—his brows were contracted—his eyes glared—a burning red flew at once over his before pale countenance.
"Art thou," cried he, with a voice, by the depth and wildness of whose tones I was involuntarily agitated,—"art thou then thyself free from sin, that thou venturest, like the most pure—nay, like the Divinity whom thou blasphemest, to look into the secrets of my bosom?—Thou, forsooth, would'st promise me forgiveness—thou, who for thyself wilt vainly strive for pardon, and against whom the regions of the blest are for ever closed!—Miserable hypocrite! soon will the hour of retribution be at hand, and trodden into the dust like a poisonous reptile, shalt thou writhe in misery and death, struggling in vain for aid and release from thy nameless torment, till thou perishest in madness and despair!"
Hereupon he turned round, and quickly disappeared. I had no power to detain him—I was, indeed, utterly crushed and annihilated. All my composure and courage had fled, and I saw no means by which confidence and safety could again be recovered.
At length I observed the Baroness coming out of the castle, dressed as if for a walk. With her only, in this difficulty, could I hope to find assistance or consolation. I hastened, therefore, to meet her.
At first she seemed terrified at my disordered appearance—inquired after the cause of it; and I described to her the whole scene which I had just now encountered with the insane Hermogen, expressing also my terror and apprehension, lest he might, perhaps, by some inexplicable chance, have got possession of, and might betray, our secret intercourse.
By all this Euphemia did not appear in the least moved. On the contrary, she smiled with an expression of irony and malice so extraordinary, that I was seized with involuntary horror.
"Let us go deeper into the park," said she, "for here we might be observed, and it might be deemed mysterious if the reverend Father Medardus were to speak to me with such vehemence."
[A few sentences are here left out by the Editor.]
[A few sentences are here left out by the Editor.]
"Be composed then, Victorin," said Euphemia; "you may make yourself perfectly tranquil as to all this, which has brought you into such fear and trouble. Indeed, it is on the whole fortunate, that this adventure has happened with Hermogen; for I have thus an opportunity of speaking to you on many things of which I had too long been silent.
"You must confess, that I wield a strange kind of intellectual supremacy over all those by whom I am in this life surrounded; and to possess and exercise this privilege, is, I believe, much more easy for a woman than for a man. Not only, however, must we for this purpose enjoy that superiority of personal beauty which Nature has granted to us, but also many peculiar attributes of mind. Above all, the individual, who, in such undertakings, expects to succeed, must possess the power of stepping, as it were, out of herself,—of contemplating herown individualityfrom an external point, (that is to say, as it is beheld by others;) for our own identity, when viewed in this manner, serves like an obedient implement—a passive means of obtaining whatever object we have proposed to ourselves, as the highest and most desirable in life.
"Can there be anything more admirable than an existence which rules over that of others, so that we may exert perfect empire over the insipid beings—the phantom shapes, by which we are here surrounded, and command them, as if by magic spells, to minister to our enjoyments?
"You, Victorin, belong to the few who have hitherto understood me. You had also acquired this power of looking, as if with others' eyes, upon yourself; and I have therefore judged you not unworthy to be raised as my partner on the throne of this intellectual kingdom. The mystery which we were obliged to keep up, heightened the charm of this union; our apparent separation only gave wider scope for our fantastic humour, which played with and scorned the conventional laws of ordinary life.
"Do not our present meetings constitute the boldest piece of adventure, that spirits, mocking at all conventional limitations, ever dared to encounter? Even in this new character which you have assumed, the metamorphosis depends not on your dress merely. It seems, also, as if the mind, accommodating itself to the ruling principle, worked outwardly in such a manner, that even the bodily form becomes plastic and obedient, moulding itself in turns, according to that plan and destination which the higher powers of volition had conceived and laid down.
"How completely I myself despise all ordinary rules, you, Victorin, are already aware. The Baron has now become, in my estimation, a disgusting, worn-out implement, which, having been used for my past purposes, lies dead, like a run-down piece of clock-work, before me—Reinhold is too contemptible and narrow-minded to be worthy of a thought—Aurelia is a good, pious, and simple-hearted child—We have nothing to do but with Hermogen.
"Already have I confessed to you, that the first time I saw this youth, he made on me a wonderful and indelible impression; but of what afterwards passed betwixt us, you have never yet been fully aware. I had even looked on him as capable of entering into those lofty schemes, into that higher sphere of enjoyment, which I could have opened for him; but for once, I was completely deceived. There existed within him some principle inimical and hostile towards me, which manifested itself in perpetual contradiction to my plans—nay, the very spells by which I fettered others, had on him an effect quite opposite and repelling. He remained always cold, darkly reserved, or, at best, utterly indifferent, till at last my resentment was roused; I determined on revenge, but, above all, I resolved that my former power should not be thus meanly baffled and subdued, and that his indifference should sooner or later be fearfully overcome.
"On this combat I had already decided, when the Baron happened to say, that he had proposed for me a marriage with Hermogen, to which the latter would by no means agree. Like a gleam of inspiration, the thought at that moment rose within me, that I might myself, by a marriage with the Baron, at once clear away those conventional limitations which had hitherto at times disgustingly forced themselves in my way.
"But as to that marriage, Victorin, I have already frequently spoken with you. To your doubts, as to whether it could ever take place, I soon opposed actual performance. In short, as you know, in the course of a few days, I succeeded in transforming the grave old gentleman into a silly tender lover. Nay, he was forced to look on those plans which wholly originated from my agency, (and to which he scarcely dared to give utterance,) as the offspring of his own foolish brain, and the fulfilment of his own heartfelt wishes. Still, in the back ground, concealed indeed, but not less deeply traced, lay the thoughts of my revenge on Hermogen, which would now be more easy, and in execution far more perfect.
"If I knew less of your character, if I were not aware that you are fully capable of entering into my views, I would no doubt hesitate to inform you of what afterwards occurred.
"I took various opportunities of attracting Hermogen's attention. When in theresidenz, I appeared gloomy and reserved—and afforded, in this respect, a powerful contrast with himself, for he was then cheerful and active in his own pursuits, and, to most people, frank and disengaged in manner. The interval was long and tedious, however, before my designs could be brought into execution.
"During my last visit in town, my uncle's illness forbade all brilliant assemblies, and I was obliged even to decline the visits of my nearest acquaintance. Hermogen called upon me, perhaps only to fulfil the duty which he owed to a step-mother. He found me sunk in the most gloomy reflections; and when, astonished at this sudden revolution, he anxiously inquired the cause, I confessed to him that the Baron's infirm state of health, which he only with difficulty concealed, made me afraid that I should soon lose him, which idea was to me terrible and insupportable.
"On hearing this, he was obviously affected; and when I went on to paint to him, in the liveliest colours, the happiness of my domestic circumstances with the Baron, entering into minute details of our mode of life in the country—when, moreover, I spoke at greater length of the Baron's admirable disposition, and represented his whole character in the most glowing terms, so that it always appeared more and more how deeply I honoured him, nay, how my very existence depended on his,—then, obviously, Hermogen's astonishment and perplexity increased to an even unexpected degree. He visibly struggled and contended with himself, but I had already triumphed. The principle, whatever it was, that lived within him, and had hitherto so hostilely acted against me, was overcome—he had spoken with me alone, and was deeply moved—he had beheld me in a new light—his indifference was subdued, and his tranquillity lost. My triumph became the more certain, when, on the following evening, he came again to visit me.
"He found me alone, still more gloomy and more agitated than on the preceding night. I spoke as before of the Baron, and of my inexpressible longing to return to the country, and to see him again. Hermogen soon lost all self-possession—he hung enraptured on my looks, and their light fell like consuming fire into his heart.
"In a word, I succeeded. The consequences were more horrible than I had supposed; yet on this account my victory was the more brilliant. The dominion which I had now so unequivocally gained over Hermogen had utterly broken his spirit. He fell, as you know, into madness, though till now you were not aware of the exact reason of this.
"It is a peculiar attribute of madmen, that they can often look more deeply than others into the hearts of those by whom they are surrounded. It seems as if their own minds, being free from rational control, stand in nearer relationship with the spiritual world, and are more liable to be excited sympathetically by the emotions of another. Thus oftentimes they pronounce aloud our own thoughts, like a supernatural echo, whence we are startled as if we heard the voice even of a second self.
"On these principles, it may indeed have happened that Hermogen, considering the peculiar footing on which we stand, has actually looked through your disguise, and on this account is hostilely disposed toward us; but as to any danger from him on this account, that is by no means to be apprehended. Suppose even that he were to break out into open enmity—should proclaim aloud, 'Trust not this cowled priest—he is not what he seems!' yet who would look upon this as less or more than a delirious phantasm of his malady, more especially as Reinhold has been so good as to recognize in you the reverend Father Medardus?
"In the meanwhile, however, it remains certain, that you cannot, as I had hoped, gain a favourable influence over Hermogen. My revenge, however, is fulfilled, and I now look upon him, even as I regard the Baron, like a brokenmarionette—a worn-out plaything; become, at last, so much the more tiresome, as he probably considers his meeting with me here as an act of penitence, and, on this account, haunts and persecutes me, as you must have observed, with his dead-alive, staring, and spectral eyes.
"In short, he must, in one way or another, be got rid of; and I thought, by your acquiring an influence over him, he might have been confirmed in his notions of going into a convent, and to have contrived, that the Baron and Reinhold should be persuaded of the propriety of this design. Hermogen, to say the truth, is to me, in the highest degree, intolerable. His looks often agitate me, so that I can hardly command myself; and, for certain, he must, by some means or other, be removed.
"The only person before whom he appears quite in a different character, is Aurelia. By means of that girl only, can you gain any influence over Hermogen; for which reason, I shall take care that, for the future, you may to her also obtain nearer access.
"If you find a suitable opportunity, you may communicate to the Baron and Reinhold, that Hermogen has disclosed to you, in confession, a heavy crime, which, according to your religious vows, you are obliged to conceal. But of this, more at another time: act for the best, and only be stedfast and faithful. Let us reign together over this contemptible world of puppets, which move around us only according to our sovereign will and pleasure. This life must bestow on us its best enjoyments, without forcing on our necks the yoke of its narrow and despicable laws!"
We now saw the Baron at a distance, and went towards him, as if occupied in pious and edifying discourse.
There had been nothing wanting, perhaps, but this explanation from Euphemia, to render me fully sensible of my own powers and advantages. I was now placed in a situation from which all things appeared in wholly new colours. As to Euphemia's boast of her mental energy and power over the conduct of others, it only rendered her, in my estimation, worthy of utter contempt. At the very moment when this miserable woman believed that she sported in safety with all laws and regulations of this life, she was in reality given up a helpless victim to that destiny, which my hand might in a moment wield against her.
It was, indeed, only by means of that spiritual influence and empire lent to me by the powers of darkness, that she could have been led to look onthat beingas a friend and trust-worthy companion, who, wearing only for her destruction the countenance and figure of her former lover, held her like a demon in his relentless grasp, so that liberation and escape were for her no longer possible.
Euphemia, under the dominion of this wretched illusion, became every moment more despicable in my estimation, and the intercourse which I was obliged to keep up with her, became so much the more disgusting, as Aurelia's image had every day acquired more and more power over my heart;—and it was for her sake only, that I had involved myself in society and in crimes, from which I should otherwise have fled with horror.
I resolved, therefore, from henceforth, to exercise, in the fullest extent, the powers that I now felt were given to me; to seize with mine own hands, that enchanter's rod, of which Euphemia so vainly boasted the possession; and with it, to describe the magic circle, in which the beings around me should move only according to my sovereign wishes.
The Baron and Reinhold were still void of all suspicions, and continued to vie with each other in their endeavours to render my abode at the castle as agreeable as possible. They had not the most distant apprehensions of the circumstances in which I stood with regard to Euphemia. On the contrary, the Baron frequently became eloquent in expressions of gratitude, even assuring me in confidence, that by my interference her affections had been completely restored to him; whereupon I recollected Reinhold's notion, that the Baron, by some means or other, had received intimation of his wife's former infidelity.
Hermogen I now saw but very seldom. He visibly avoided me with fear and trembling, which the Baron and Reinhold very kindly interpreted into devoted awe and reverence for the sanctity and intuitive energy of my character, of which he could not bear the scrutiny.
Aurelia, too, appeared to avoid me as much as possible; and if, by chance, I spoke with her, she was, like Hermogen, timid and embarrassed. I had, therefore, no doubt that the latter had imparted to his sister those apprehensions by which I had been so much alarmed; and yet it seemed to me by no means impracticable to counteract their evil influence.
Probably by the instigation of the Baroness, who wished to bring me nearer to Aurelia, in order that, through her, I might acquire an ascendancy over Hermogen, the Baron requested, that I would give a share of my time to the instruction of his daughter in the higher mysteries of religion. Thus Euphemia herself unconsciously supplied me with the means of arriving at that wished-for goal, which formed the climax of all my most sanguine prospects, and which imagination had so often painted in the most glowing colours.
I shall pass rapidly over the rest of my adventures during my residence in the Baron's castle, the impression of which remains like that of an hideous dream, on which I have no desire to dwell longer than is requisite to preserve connection in the narrative.
For some days, indeed, I remained influenced, for the most part, by the most sanguine hopes, which were yet constantly liable to disappointment. I had hitherto seen Aurelia only at short intervals, and in the society of others;—then, at every meeting, her beauty appeared more and more heavenly; her voice breathed more exquisite music; and the passionate impressions under which I laboured, were such, that I used, after these interviews, to run forth, if possible, into the park—search out some covert the wildest and most secluded, where I threw myself on the ground, and gave up my whole soul to the delirium of love.
At other times, I sought in meetings with the Baroness a temporary refuge from agitations, with which I could scarcely contend. I formed a thousand plans for leaving the castle, and of inducing Aurelia to be the companion of my flight; but all were one by one renounced as hopeless.
Now, however, I was to meet her frequently—andalone. I summoned, therefore, all my talents of eloquence and energies of mind, to clothe my religious instructions in such language, that I might by this means direct her affections to her instructor, until, overpowered by her own feelings, she should at last throw herself into my arms.
Instead, however, of succeeding in my designs against Aurelia, the only consequence of my endeavours was to augment tenfold my own intolerable disquietude. A thousand times did I say to myself, How is this possible? Can Aurelia be the same Unknown—the visitant of the confessional? Devoutly, with folded hands and downcast eyes, she listened to me; but not one symptom of emotion, not the slightest sigh, betrayed any deeper operation of my words. Even if I dropt obscure hints of our former meeting, she remained unmoved.
I was therefore, of necessity, brought back to the belief and conviction, that the adventure of the confessional was but a dream. Yet if so, what import could be attached to the supernatural liveliness of that vision, except that it must have been an anticipation of what was now to come—the promise of a higher power, that Aurelia—the living realization of that phantom—was yet to be mine?
Baffled, however, in all my attempts,—driven oftentimes to rage and despondency,—I brooded over new plans; and while obliged to counterfeit pleasure in the society of Euphemia, and feeling only hatred and impatience, my looks and behaviour assumed a horrible expression, at which she seemed involuntarily to tremble. Still, of therealmystery concealed in my bosom, she had no suspicion, but gave way without a struggle to that supremacy which I exerted over her, and which daily continued to increase.
Frequently the thought occurred to my mind, that, by assuming proper courage, by one decisive step, however violent, I might put an end to the torments of suspense under which I laboured,—that on my very next meeting with Aurelia, I might cast off the mask, and renounce all subterfuge and stratagem. I went to her more than once,resolvedto carry some plan of this kind into effect; but when I looked at Aurelia, and beheld the calm piety, the energy of innocence in her seraphic features, it seemed as if an angel stood by her, protecting her, and bidding defiance to the power of the enemy. At such times, a cold shuddering vibrated through my limbs, and my former resolutions were completely broken.
At last, the thought occurred to me of joining with her more frequently in prayer.