Is it wonderful that Don Fernando escorted her to the gate of the castle? Or that proud Don Alphonso did not invite him in, notwithstanding his daughter's imploring looks, even after he had heard from her lips of her deliverance? Are my daughters very much astonished that little perfumed notes, exquisitely written, doubtless with little kissing doves stamped in the corners, and signed 'Yours till death,' passed between the two castles? There was a prodigious waste of sentiment on the occasion, quite enough to set up twenty pairs of well-behaved, proper, respectable lovers. It came to such a pass that Fernando declared, and I believe the fellow was in earnest, that existence would be intolerable to him unless he could meet his Isabel; and the lady, although feeling some qualms of conscience about the matter, agreed to see him daily, when the evening star rose in the sky. So, while her poor old father—good easy man! thought that his daughter was in her chamber, or piously engaged in the oratory saying her Ave Marias and Pater Nosters, and singing a vesper hymn to the Virgin, the naughty girl had gone by a secret passage underground to a wood at some distance, where she met her betrothed.
This passage is said to begin in one of the chambers of the castle, and winding along in the wall, to proceed downward towards the dungeons underground, and then to pass away to the wood already mentioned. It was originally intended, no doubt, as a means of escape, or of communication with the outer world, in case of a siege; but, at that time, it had almost passed into oblivion. After the events I am relating, the outlet into the wood was stopped up, and where the passage is to be found no one knows: so that if Clara wishes to imitate the conduct of her beautiful kinswoman, and to arrange clandestine meetings, she will have to spoil the romance of the proceeding by quietly walking through the open gate.
But at length, some prying eyes found out these nocturnal interviews, and great was the rage of Don Alphonso. The lovers were seized, brought back in tribulation to the castle, and imprisoned, one in her chamber, the other in a dungeon. But love finds many devices: whether it was a golden key that opened her door, or whether it was her eloquent tongue and pleading looks, I know not, but certain it is that in the dead of night, when all but two in the castle were sunk in profound slumber, a fair lady softly stepped into her father's apartment, drew a large bunch of keys from under his pillow, and proceeding down to the dungeons by the secret passage, set Don Fernando at liberty! Soon did they breathe the sweet, fresh air of freedom: soon did they find their way to the territory of the Count de Velasquez, and to the chapel where an obedient priest spoke over their kneeling forms those words which can never be unsaid, by which Holy Mother Church sanctions the union of loving hearts.
And the father? He stormed considerably—we fathers generally do in such cases. But, upon mature consideration, he concluded that amiability was, under the circumstances, the best policy: and being in reality a kind-hearted man, he forgave the young couple, and invited them to dinner! And thus ended the ancient feud between the houses of Alcantra and Velasquez!
After the termination of the tale, Señor Baptista retired, and the Conde and his daughters remained chatting by the fire for some time; at length the wasting embers, and the increasing chilliness of the air, warned them that it was time to seek repose. With a reverence unhappily too much wanting in our land of youthful independence, Clara and Magdalena knelt before their father, and as he imprinted the warm kiss upon their brows, and uttered the heart-felt "God bless you, my daughters!" their feelings, both of piety and of filial love, feelings, how closely united! were certainly freshened.
Taking their little night-lamps, they proceeded up the staircase, but soon parted, as their rooms were situated in different galleries. From the dim light, and the many branching corridors, Magdalena mistook her way, and was just convinced of her mistake, when a sudden puff of wind put out her lamp. Feeble glimmering as it gave, it yet would have enabled her to find her way, and she was just on the point of calling out for aid, when she perceived a light approach from an adjacent gallery. She thought it must be a servant, but upon stepping where she could command a better view of it, what was her horror to see a form advance like that described in the story of the castellan! It appeared to be a tall man, clad in complete armor, with visor down: in one hand he bore a torch, which seemed to emit a supernatural light and in the other, a bunch of keys, and a long chain, dragging upon the ground. She distinctly heard the clanking sound of the chain, and the ringing noise of his footstep upon the stone, ere she distinguished the figure, so exactly similar to that of the spectre of Alcantra, the vengeful Don Pedro which was so vividly impressed upon her imagination. She did not shriek, she did not faint; but quickly bounding along the corridor, she flew like lightning down the broad staircase, and found herself in the hall. She had hoped to find her father still there, but it was dark and deserted, and looked so vast and so gloomy, by the cold light of the moon, which streamed in at the furthest windows, that she felt a cold chill creep over her. At this moment the clock struck twelve: as she counted the strokes, which seemed to her excited fancy as if they would never cease tolling, she thought she heard the ringing footsteps approach: in an agony of terror, she rushed through the darkness, which was indeed to her a darkness which could be felt, a palpable thing, towards the chimney place, hoping to find enough of flame to light her lamp; but in vain. The air felt to her so thick and heavy, as if her lungs could scarcely breathe it: she listened for the sound of a step, but heard only the beating of her own heart. At length she summoned courage to retrace her steps, to find either her own room or her sister's, for the silence and solitude of that vast hall were too oppressive to be endured. Softly and slowly she crept up the staircase, when suddenly she felt her wrist clasped by a cold iron hand: she gave one piercing shriek, and fell senseless to the ground.
When she came to herself, she was lying upon her bed, in the same clothes she wore the preceding day, and the bright sun was streaming in at the windows. She arose, with a sense of pain and confusion, as if some dreadful thing had happened, which she could not recall to her mind; but suddenly the whole scene of the preceding night flashed upon her. She thought, it is impossible: certainly it was a painful dream, caused by the exciting conversation of last evening, and by my impressions of the castle. But all the minute circumstances crowded so vividly into her mind, that she thought it could not be that a mere vision of the night should produce so powerful an effect. But what convinced her of the reality of these occurrences, was the fact that she had not undressed for the night: casting her eyes down upon her person, as she thought this, they fell upon her hand; and there she distinctly saw the marks left upon her delicate skin by that iron grip to which she had been subjected! As she saw this, all the crawling horror and choking fear of the preceding evening came back thick upon her, and a feeling of faintness which she could scarcely resist: but just then her eye fell upon the crucifix, and with a sensation of self-reproach that she had so long forgotten the supports and comforts of religion, she knelt down, and fervently besought aid from on high. And never, under any circumstances, is such a prayer in vain: her mind, so fearfully tried, resumed its self-command, and calmness and peace stole back again into her heart. She opened her window: it was a lovely day, and the mountain air, so bracing and reviving, so deadly to sickly fears and nervous sentimentalities, had an inspiring effect upon her; she laved herself in the cold spring water, arranged her dress, and sought her sister's room.
When there, she felt her tremors return, as she related to her the events of the night; but Clara's brave and joyous spirit was not of the kind to yield, even for a moment, to supernatural terrors. With her arm around her sister, as if to shield her from all harm, she told her that the first thing to do was to remove all Magdalena's effects to her chamber, as she did not think she could trust her out of her sight for one moment, after such an adventure.
"But, surely, it must have been your excited imagination!"
"How then do you account for my finding myself on top of my bed, and dressed? And how do you make out these purple marks?"