I trust a time will come when I may reveal to you the whole history of my sorrows; at present I can only repeat my warning. Yet surely some invisible power was disposed last night to give that warning in my stead! What could be the cause of that singular and terrific sensation, which we all felt at that moment, when Mellusina’s sleep at length left me at liberty to afford you the information, which this letter contains? What was it that startled us all at the same instant, and made us utter a scream of fear? What form was it that passed before us so swiftly? Whence came that sound, which seemed like a distant bell tolling? Whose were the cold fingers which seemed to grasp my neck?——Struck with an universal terror, we sprang from our seats at once, and asked each other—“What was that?”—Even the slumbering Mellusina was rouzed from her insensibility by alarm, and the hand with which she drew me from your tent was cold and trembling!
Surely, Urania, this must have been the warning of your guardian angel, who wished to accomplish that which Mellusina’s presence forbad my performing without danger ... unless indeed I were to give this mysterious event a different, and a more dreadful meaning! I know not why, but since that moment of terror in which we parted, the thought of my father never quits me for an instant! I trust no misfortune has befallen him.—Is he not in the hands of his son?—Alas! alas! and is not Donat capable of violating even the first and most sacred rights of Nature?
Oh! good, good father! since I have seen Urania Venosta, how much more warmly does my heart glow towards you with filial affection! How despicable, how execrable was she described to be, for whose sake my mother was sacrificed; and how different did I find her from the description! Her dignified air, her interesting countenance, inspired even the savage Donat with respect! Oh! surely I have been equally deceived respecting Count Ethelbert; surely I shall still enjoy the blessing of being clasped to the bosom of a virtuous father!
Once again, beloved Urania, be cautious both with regard to your own proceedings and Minna’s.—Fail not to let me know, as soon as possible, what passes at the Castle, if your evil genius decrees that you should be brought thither, and if an opportunity is afforded you of answering me by the faithful messenger, by whom this letter will be delivered. With regard to myself, I shall only inform you briefly, that my intention of warning you was suspected. Mellusina was commissioned to watch over me last night, as soon as it was discovered, that I had stolen to your tent unknown to my brother and his wife. In order to prevent the execution of my good design this morning, I was forcibly compelled to suffer you to depart without me for the Castle of Sargans; and I understand, that my absence was accounted for to you by the pretence of sudden illness. I am now setting out, by Donat’s orders, for the convent of St. Mary, at Basle: the Abbess is my secret friend, and soon after my arrival you shall hear from me. I trust, that I shall learn what has happened to you at the return of my messenger; and I need not assure you, that nothing in my power to assist you shall be neglected for a moment. Farewell!
Urania Venosta to the Abbess of St. Mary’s.
The explanation which you demand of me, dear mother, would be very painful to make. For the benefit of my husband’s grand-daughters, I have confided to paper the whole history of my misfortunes; and the first time that you visit our Domina, the manuscript shall be laid before you. For the present I shall only tell you thus much: From that fearful moment when an invisible agent warned me, that misfortune was at hand; when we all felt, saw, heard something, which even yet none of us have been able to describe or understand; when I saw my earthly guardian angel, your Adelaide and mine, torn from me, and felt (yet knew not wherefore) that a separation from her was the signal for robbing me of all my hopes; from that moment was I doomed to experience sorrows, whose bitterness was till then unknown to me, practised as I was in the school of suffering.
The morning had scarcely broken, when we set forward for the Castle of Sargans; illness, as it was said, compelled Adelaide to remain behind, and her letter was not delivered till too late to be of use. Ere we reached the fortress, intelligence arrived that my unfortunate husband was no more. Guiderius, to whom the charge of him had been committed, had either been too remiss in watching him, or had trembled for his own miserable existence while exposed to a madman’s fury; or, as his enemies scrupled not to whisper (though the fact seems too atrocious for me to give it credit), had himself been the means of “ridding the world of an useless creature.” Such was the expression used by the insolent vassal, who informed Count Donat that his father had perished by an untimely death: I had the satisfaction of seeing, that the Count of Carlsheim rewarded the base wretch as he deserved!
The body of Count Ethelbert was found in the ruined well, into which (so said the Abbot) he had precipitated himself in a fit of frantic passion. This story did not meet with implicit belief; even Count Donat was openly among the disbelievers. Yet (after I had passed some time in the prison, which I was compelled to enter on the very evening of my arrival at that castle, of which I was the rightful owner) I was assured by my jailors that the Abbot of Curwald was fully reinstated in Count Donat’s favour, and constantly partook of the licentious feasts, the noise of whose riotous pleasures penetrated even to the depth of my subterraneous dungeon.
Yet I was not entirely forsaken. My guardian angel, my kind protecting Adelaide suffered no circumstance to escape her, that might tend to my relief. On the first evening of our acquaintance (alas! it was the first and last, for never since have I been permitted to embrace the dear one!) I mentioned accidentally that the daughters of the Emperor Rudolf had been my earliest friends and playmates: from this trifling hint did Adelaide derive means for effecting my deliverance. No sooner was she permitted to leave the convent, in which her brother at first caused her to be confined, than she made use of her liberty to procure mine; and (since she knew that gentle means would be of no avail) she endeavoured with the strong arm of authority to force me out of the power of my inhuman jailor.