“This man, did you say? That cannot be.”
“I will tell your highness more. It was upon his information that I have been sent here to arrest the sorcerer.”
We looked at each other in the utmost astonishment.
“Now we know,” said the English lord at length, “why the poor devil of a sorcerer started in such a terror when he looked more closely into his face. He knew him to be a spy, and that is why he uttered that shriek, and fell down before him.”
“No!” interrupted the prince. “This man is whatever he wishes to be, and whatever the moment requires him to be. No mortal ever knew what he really was. Did you not see the knees of the Sicilian sink under him, when he said, with that terrible voice: ‘Thou shalt summon no more ghosts?’ There is something inexplicable in this matter. No person can persuade me that one man should be thus alarmed at the sight of another.”
“The sorcerer himself will probably explain it the best,” said the English lord, “if that gentleman,” pointing to the officer, “will afford us an opportunity of speaking with his prisoner.”
The officer consented to it, and, having agreed with the Englishman to visit the Sicilian in the morning, we returned to Venice.
[The Count O———, whose narrative I have thus far literally
copied, describes minutely the various effects of this adventure
upon the mind of the prince and of his companions, and recounts a
variety of tales of apparitions which this event gave occasion to
introduce. I shall omit giving them to the reader, on the
supposition that he is as curious as myself to know the conclusion
of the adventure, and its effect on the conduct of the prince. I
shall only add that the prince got no sleep the remainder of the
night, and that he waited with impatience for the moment which was
to disclose this incomprehensible mystery, Note of the German
Editor.]
Lord Seymour (this was the name of the Englishman) called upon us very early in the forenoon, and was soon after followed by a confidential person whom the officer had entrusted with the care of conducting us to the prison.
I forgot to mention that one of the prince’s domestics, a native of Bremen, who had served him many years with the strictest fidelity, and had entirely gained his confidence, had been missing for several days. Whether he had met with any accident, whether he had been kidnapped, or had voluntarily absented himself, was a secret to every one. The last supposition was extremely improbable, as his conduct had always been quiet and regular, and nobody had ever found fault with him. All that his companions could recollect was that he had been for some time very melancholy, and that, whenever he had a moment’s leisure, he used to visit a certain monastery in the Giudecca, where he had formed an acquaintance with some monks. This induced us to suppose that he might have fallen into the hands of the priests and had been persuaded to turn Catholic; and as the prince was very tolerant, or rather indifferent about matters of this kind, and the few inquiries he caused to be made proved unsuccessful, he gave up the search. He, however, regretted the loss of this man, who had constantly attended him in his campaigns, had always been faithfully attached to him, and whom it was therefore difficult to replace in a foreign country. The very same day the prince’s banker, whom he had commissioned to provide him with another servant, was announced at the moment we were going out. He presented to the prince a middle-aged man, well-dressed, and of good appearance, who had been for a long time secretary to a procurator, spoke French and a little German, and was besides furnished with the best recommendations. The prince was pleased with the man’s physiognomy; and as he declared that he would be satisfied with such wages as his service should be found to merit, the prince engaged him immediately.