At this moment, Agnes’ narrative was interrupted by a piercing shriek which burst from her lips; and extending her arms toward the window of the apartment, she screamed hysterically, “Again that countenance!” and fell back on the ottoman.
CHAPTER IX.
CONCLUSION OF THE HISTORY OF AGNES.
In order that the reader may understand how Agnes could perceive any object outside the window, in the intense darkness of that tempestuous night—or rather morning, for it was now past one o’clock—we must observe that not only was the apartment in which Wagner and herself were seated brilliantly lighted by the silver lamps, but that, according to Florentine custom, there were also lamps suspended outside to the veranda, or large balcony belonging to the casements of the room above.
Agnes and Wagner were, moreover, placed near the window which looked into a large garden attached to the mansion; and thus it was easy for the lady, whose eyes happened to be fixed upon the casement in the earnest interest with which she was relating her narrative, to perceive the human countenance that appeared at one of the panes.
The moment her history was interrupted by the ejaculation of alarm that broke from her lips, Wagner started up and hastened to the window; but he could see nothing save the waving evergreens in his garden, and the light of a mansion which stood at a distance of about two hundred yards from his own abode.
He was about to open the casement and step into the garden, when Agnes caught him by the arm, exclaiming wildly, “Leave me not—I could not—I could not bear to remain alone!”
“No, I will not quit you, Agnes,” replied Wagner, conducting her back to the sofa and resuming his seat by her side. “But wherefore that ejaculation of alarm? Whose countenance did you behold? Speak, dearest Agnes!”
“I will hasten to explain the cause of my terror,” retorted Agnes, becoming more composed. “Ere now I was about to detail the particulars of my journey to Florence, in company with the Count of Riverola, and attended by Antonio; but as those particulars are of no material interest, I will at once pass on to the period when we arrived in this city.”
“But the countenance at the window?” said Wagner, somewhat impatiently.
“Listen—and you will soon know all,” replied Agnes. “It was in the evening when I entered Florence for the first time. Antonio had proceeded in advance to inform his mother—a widow who resided in a decent house, but in an obscure street near the cathedral—that she was speedily to receive a young lady as a guest. This young lady was myself; and accordingly, when the count assisted me to alight from my horse at the gate of Dame Margaretha’s abode, the good widow had everything in readiness for my reception. The count conversed with her apart for a few minutes; and I observed that he also placed a heavy purse in her hand—doubtless to insure her secrecy relative to the amour, with the existence of which he was of course compelled to acquaint her. Having seen me comfortably installed in Dame Margaretha’s best apartment, he quitted me, with a promise to return on the morrow.”