'Manfred, almost hardened to supernatural appearances, surmounted the shock of this new prodigy; and returning to the hall, where by this time the feast was ready, he invited his silent guests to take their places. Manfred, however ill at ease was his heart, endeavoured to inspire the company with mirth. He put several questions to them, but was answered only by signs. They raised their vizors but sufficiently to feed themselves, and that sparingly. During the parley Father Jerome hurried in to report the disappearance of Isabella. The knights and their retinue dispersed to search the neighbourhood, and Manfred, with his vassals, quitted the castle to confuse their movements. Theodore was still confined in the black tower, but his guards were gone. The gentle Matilda came to his assistance; she carried him to her father's armoury, and having equipped him with a complete suit, conducted him to the postern-gate. "Avoid the town," said the princess, "but hie thee to the opposite quarter; yonder is a chain of rocks, hollowed into a labyrinth of caverns that lead to the sea-coast. Go! Heaven be thy guide! and sometimes, in thy prayers, remember Matilda!" Theodore flung himself at her feet, and seizing her lily hand, which with struggles she suffered him to kiss, he vowed on the earliest opportunity to get himself knighted, and fervently intreated her permission to swear himself eternally her champion. He then sighed and retired, but with eyes fixed on the gate, until Matilda, closing it, put an end to an interview, in which the hearts of both had drunk so deeply of a passion which both now tasted for the first time.'
We must now crowd the sequel of this remarkable story into the smallest possible space. In the caverns Theodore recovered the distracted Isabella; but a knight arrived at the moment of his happy discovery, and mistrusting her deliverer, while Theodore deceived himself as to the intentions of the stranger, a desperate combat ensued, and the younger champion gained the victory. The stranger knight explained his mistake, and revealed himself as the missing Marquis of Vicenza, father to Isabella, and nearest heir to Alonzo. He anticipated his wounds were fatal, but he recovered at the castle. Manfred artfully pursued his unholy designs for a union with Isabella. He gave a great feast, with this object, but Theodore withdrew from the revelry to pray with Matilda at the tomb of Alonzo. Manfred followed him to the chapel, believing his companion was Isabella, and struck his dagger through the heart of his daughter. He was overwhelmed with remorse for his error, on discovering that he had murdered his child. Theodore revealed to Frederic that he was the real and rightful successor to Alonzo. This declaration was confirmed by the apparition of Alonzo. Thunder and a clank of more than mortal armour was heard. The walls of the castle behind Manfred were thrown down with a mighty force, and the form of Alonzo, dilated to an immense magnitude, appeared in the centre of the ruins. 'Behold in Theodore the true heir of Alonzo!' said the vision, and, ascending solemnly towards heaven, the clouds parted asunder, and the form of St. Nicholas received Alonzo's shade. Manfred confessed, in his terror, that Alonzo had been poisoned by his grandfather, and a fictitious will had accomplished his treacherous end. Jerome further revealed that Alonzo had secretly espoused Victoria, a Sicilian virgin. After the good knight's decease a daughter was born. Her hand had been bestowed on him, the disguised Count of Falconara. Theodore was the fruit of their marriage, thus establishing his direct right to the principality. Manfred and his virtuous wife, Hippolita, retired to neighbouring convents. Frederic offered his daughter to the new prince, but 'it was not until after frequent discourses with Isabella of dear Matilda that he was persuaded he could know no happiness but in the society of one with whom he could for ever indulge the melancholy that had taken possession of his soul,' with which cheerful prospect the 'Castle of Otranto' is brought to an appropriate conclusion.
On the fly-leaf at the end of this worthy novel follows a sketch suggestive of the out-of-door sports alluded to earlier.
An instance of the felicitous parodies to which the works of grave historians are liable at the hands of a budding satirist is supplied by 'Rollin's Ancient History,' one of the books of which we feel bound to give more than a passing notice; we therefore select the more tempting passages of the eight volumes forming the particular edition in question, to which a fresh interest is contributed by certain slight but pertinent pencillings probably referable to a somewhat later period.
SKETCHES ILLUSTRATIVE OF 'ROLLIN'S ANCIENT HISTORY.'
Ancient History of the Egyptians, etc. etc.
'... In the early morning and at daybreak, when their minds were clearest and their thoughts were most pure, the Egyptians would read the letters they had received, the better to obtain a just and truthful impression of the business on which they had to decide.'—Vol. I. p. 60.
