She knew well, that little as Count Ethelbert loved religion, he greatly dreaded it: she therefore (previous to their marriage) insisted on his taking a most solemn oath, that however they might disagree, or however his sentiments might alter, he would never attempt her life, nor would (even in case of a divorce) make the offer of his hand to a rival, as long as she herself should still be in existence. She thus hoped to bind her inconstant lover in eternal chains; but she little dreamt of so tyrannical a subterfuge, as that by which the hypocrite contrived to evade the consequences of his oath.
Though she found all endeavours to regain his affection were vain, she still watched her husband’s conduct with jealous eyes. While he visited in turn every Italian state, whose reputation promised him new means of indulging his propensity to pleasure, her spies still pursued him wherever his footsteps strayed. Lucretia was accurately informed respecting his intrigues; and seldom did the objects of Ethelbert’s licentious passions escape without experiencing the vengeance of his wife. His short-lived inclination once gratified, the Count of Carlsheim heeded but little what became of his victim, and Lucretia was suffered to exercise her resentment unimpeded; but the case was altered, when Urania Venosta became the mistress of his heart. Her extraordinary beauty, her high rank, and her immense possessions made him at the same time desirous of becoming her husband, hopeless of gratifying the passion with which she inspired him, except by giving her his hand. It therefore became absolutely necessary, that Lucretia should be removed. He contrived by various well-imagined artifices to lure her into Germany; where she had no sooner set her foot, than he caused her to be seized privately, and confined in Ravenstein Castle. A plausible story was then spread of her having expired suddenly: no one was interested to dispute the fact, except her son, who in truth was fondly attached to her; but his youth and devoted attention to licentious pursuits prevented Donat from inquiring minutely into the circumstances, which attended his mother’s death. Lucretia was believed to be no more by all but Count Ethelbert, who was thus left at liberty to pursue his designs upon the lovely heiress of Sargans.
Adelaide had accompanied her mistress (for such she was taught to believe her mother) when she quitted Italy; she refused to be separated from her, followed her courageously to the Castle of Ravenstein, and shared with her the miseries of her long captivity. Then was it, that the mother’s heart for the first time felt a sentiment of tenderness for her rejected daughter. Adelaide learnt from Lucretia’s lips her real name and rank, and while she clasped her to her bosom, was permitted for the first time to call her mother. Yet was the severity of her fate but little alleviated by this discovery. Lucretia’s heart was naturally hard; it was incapable of harbouring so pure a sentiment as that of true parental love. Long sufferings and much disappointment had still further embittered her character. To that kind of moral delirium, which ever attends on a corrupted heart, was now frequently added a temporary alienation of the understanding; and when Adelaide reflected, that the wretched woman, whose complicated misery (both mental and corporeal) was every moment before her eyes, was her own mother, the knowledge of her birth only served to make her feel a double portion of agony.
Day and night was Lucretia employed in forming plans of revenge against her cruel husband, and the innocent usurper of her matrimonial rights. She had early taught the innocent Adelaide to hate Urania Venosta: in the eyes of that deceived girl the heiress of Sargans was nothing better than Count Ethelbert’s abandoned paramour, who had insolently forced herself into the place of his lawful wife, and had been the principal and conscious cause of her mother’s being confined in that deserted castle. But in despite of these prejudices against you, which Lucretia had infused into the heart of her daughter, she found it impossible to make her enter cheerfully into the plans, which she was continually forming for your destruction. Adelaide was well aware, that her mother was totally without the power of carrying her wicked designs into execution; but still she could not prevail on herself to assume even the appearance of giving them her approbation. This obstinacy and incessant contradiction of her hopes and views at length made her so completely the object of Lucretia’s aversion, that she insisted on her daughter’s being separated from her, and confined in the deepest dungeon, which the subterraneous caverns of the Castle could supply.
You are acquainted, Urania, with the weakness of the man, who was at that time Castellan of Ravenstein. He possessed a singular kind of conscience, which frequently made his actions contradictory. Lucretia had found means to send letters to her son in Italy, of which conduct (as it was not formally prohibited in his instructions) he affected not to take notice; but as he had been ordered to confine her rigorously, she found it impossible to obtain from him the slightest alleviation of her sufferings. Again, as Adelaide had been delivered to his custody at the same time with her mother, no entreaties could prevail on him to restore her to liberty; but it required but little persuasion to make him believe, that she ought to submit to the punishment, which the person (whom he believed to be her mistress) thought proper to inflict on her.
Adelaide therefore was separated from her unnatural mother. She was removed to a subterraneous cell, whose strength proved the means of preserving her on that dangerous night, when Lucretia in despair and frenzy enveloped the whole fortress in flames. The fire raged above her; but she knew not what occasioned the confusion, which seemed to have taken place in the Castle. Her wretched mother died without mentioning her name, and her corse was committed to the earth unknown to her daughter. The deliverance of Urania and the Countess of Mayenfield was effected; the Castellan, who alone knew the place of her confinement, had been dangerously hurt during the conflagration, and in his last moments was too much occupied by the terrors of approaching dissolution to bestow a thought on his prisoner. No one knew what was become of the poor Adelaide; no one enquired, no one cared.
Scarcely had you escaped from Ravenstein through the well-imagined device of Walter Forest and his followers, before your jailors began to suspect the truth. A variety of circumstances combined to prove that they had been over-reached, and they were enabled to see the whole adventure in its true light. In truth, nothing but the rashness of the attempt and the rapidity of its execution could have prevented them from making this discovery sooner.
They were provoked beyond measure at the contemptible part, which they had played on this occasion; too much time had already elapsed to leave them any hopes of over-taking the fugitives, and to pursue them now had been only giving themselves unavailing trouble. When they reflected on the wrath of their tyrannical lord, terror almost turned their blood into ice. It was evident, that nothing could preserve them from destruction, but immediate flight from a place, whose natural horrors were increased tenfold by the ravages of the late conflagration, and by the recollection of many a cruel action, which they had committed within those dreary walls!
Flight then was resolved upon unanimously; but they thought it as well, not to quit Ravenstein with empty hands. It’s true, the whole wealth, that was to be found there above ground, consisted in chains, rusty armour, and instruments of torture; but report had assured them, that treasures of immense value lay concealed in the subterraneous parts of the Castle, and these they determined not to leave behind them.
They tore open the bosom of the rock, on which the Castle was situated, without discovering aught but Adelaide’s dungeon, in which she was found almost at the point of death, not having tasted nourishment for several days. They were humane enough to remove the unfortunate girl into a purer atmosphere, and to exert themselves in some measure to effect her recovery. Her beauty probably was of some use in persuading the younger part of the garrison to assist her the more readily; and what little wealth she possest in jewels (the only presents of her unnatural mother) purchased for her the protection of the more ancient and flinty-hearted.